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sapphim · 6 months

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Welcome to Does Varric Know Their Name? Part 2: Isabela and Merrill (and Tallis) edition.

Or, all the dialogue in DA2 in which Varric refers to Hawke’s companions; by name, nickname, or otherwise. For reasons. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Part 1: Aveline, Carver, and Bethany Part 3: Anders, Fenris, and Sebastian

Isabela

Combat barks

Varric: Don't die on me, Rivaini! You still owe me a pint!

Act 1 (Banter)

Varric: I shit you not, Rivaini, it was this big. Isabela: There's no way. Impossible! I've had hundreds of those in my hands, and they're never that size. Varric: Would I lie about something so critical? Varric: Rivaini, stop looking at my chest. My eyes are up here. Isabela: But the chest hair… Varric: Do you know how much I suffer under your gaze? I am a person, not an object! Varric: You know, Rivaini, you promised me you'd tell me how your ship wrecked. Isabela: I was drunk. I thought the reefs around the Wounded Coast were made of candy. Varric: Oh, come on.

Act 2 (A Rumour Making the Rounds)

Varric: I'm not spreading rumors. I'm just telling you which way the wind is blowing. Hawke: It fills my heart with joy to know you're not telling people I'm sleeping with an ogre. Varric: If the Rivaini were an ogre… damnation, that'd be one hot ogre.

Act 2 (Friendly Concern)

Varric: Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you. Varric: I hear you and the Rivaini have something going… Isabela: [CUT] Feeling left out, are we, Varric? If you wanted to join in, all you had to do was ask. Varric: [CUT] Isabela, you know my heart is already spoken for. Isabela: [CUT] Your heart might belong to Bianca, but I think your trousers might be up for grabs. Varric: Listen, as your friend, I feel like I'd be doing you a disservice if I didn't say something. Varric: Isabela is a great girl, but I think you're likely to get hurt. By which I mean stabbed and left for dead.

Act 2 (Banter)

Varric: You have got to tell me what was in that box, Rivaini. Isabela: Which box? I've opened so many… Varric: Well, those too. But later. Right now: that Qunari relic. Isabela: Come to me, and I'll take you to places you've never been… Varric: Isabela… Are you talking to Bianca? Isabela: I think she deserves to feel a woman's touch on her trigger, don't you? Aveline: What is that? Isabela: Shh! (Giggles.) Varric: Isabela just thought she'd celebrate your love affair with a… written dedication. Isabela: It's "friend-fiction!" I do it out of love!

Act 2 (To Catch a Thief)

Isabela: I've always known what the relic is. I just didn't want to… worry you. Varric: You're the picture of kindness, Rivaini.

Act 2 (Demands of the Qun)

Arishok: She will submit to the Qun and the Ben-Hassrath. More than that I will not say. Hawke: You have your relic. She stays with us. Varric: I'm sure he'll take that well. Rivaini? You might want to move a bit this way.

Act 3 (The Storm and What Came Before It)

Hawke: What was Anders here for? Varric: Blondie didn't tell you? He comes down here now and then. He loses at cards to Isabela, and I buy him drinks.

Act 3 (No Rest for the Wicked)

Varric: I hope Isabela leaves an obvious trail. Varric: Wait, what am I talking about? Isabela's never subtle.

Act 3 (Faith)

Isabela: "Sister Nightingale," indeed. I remember it didn't take much to make you sing. Leliana: (Laughs.) Varric: Is there anyone in Ferelden you haven't slept with, Rivaini?

Act 3 (Banter)

Isabela: Varric, how does one get made a Paragon? Varric: The Assembly votes on it. Enough votes, and—BAM!—you're a living god. Isabela: You should ask to be made a Paragon. Of manliness. Varric: I like the way you think, Rivaini, but one doesn't just ask to be made a Paragon. Varric: So… Hawke and Daisy? Isabela: I think they're darling together. Varric: Really? You're not at all jealous? Because I thought that you and Hawke… Isabela: Hawke was just a dalliance. You know I've still got my eye on you. Varric: Keep dreaming, Rivaini. Varric: You know you still owe me five sovereigns, elf. Fenris: I'm good for it. Varric: So, you think you can win the coin from Isabela? Good luck with that. Merrill: Do you ever miss her? Varric: Isabela? Of course I do. Merrill: You called her by her name. I've never heard you do that before. Varric: No fun in calling her Rivaini if she's not here to be annoyed by it.

Act 3 Climax (Banter)

Merrill: How do you do it, living in this city without picking a side? Doesn't it matter to you? Varric: Of course it does. That's why I don't take sides. Merrill: That doesn't make any sense. Varric: I’ve got you and Aveline, Fenris and Anders. Hawke. Isabela.

Legacy DLC (Banter)

Isabela: You've a nickname for everyone. Varric: That's true. Rivaini. Isabela: But everyone just calls you Varric. That's hardly fair. Varric: So, elf, what's this I've been hearing about you and the Rivaini? Fenris: None of your business, dwarf. Varric: Just be careful. I get the impression that Isabela's breakups turn into bloodbaths. Isabela: That's part of the fun. Hawke: Varric. I've heard… stories of a personal nature being spread around town. Varric: If you want your private life to stay private, maybe don't sleep with half of Kirkwall. Varric: I'm not spreading any tales about you and the Rivaini. Although she asks me every other week to start some. Isabela: It would make a great new serial. Much better than that guard one you've been writing. Carver: With passion’d breath comes darkness, but with many against Her, She finds His Light untiring as it parts the Veil. Isabela: Not sure if I'm aroused or scared. I like it. Varric: Junior took down the Rivaini? Who’s telling this story?

Mark of the Assassin DLC (Banter)

Varric: Our little Hawke is growing up, Rivaini. Isabela: I know! Burglary and espionage! I'm so proud of him right now, I could burst! Varric: Soon, he'll be sharking card games and swindling merchants all on his own! Brings a tear to my eye! Isabela: What you said earlier… about purpose. Tallis: I was like you once, Isabela. I wanted everything to be easy. Varric: As easy as Isabela? Isabela: Hush, you.

Mark of the Assassin DLC (Rescue)

Isabela: I give up! We've been through every inch of this place twice, and there's no sign of them! Varric: Or we've been through the same twenty feet of this place about a dozen times. It's hard to tell, Rivaini.

Narration / Interrogation

Cassandra: You say the Arishok left Kirkwall with the relic, but I know for a fact that's not true. Varric: Oh, he did, but Isabela stole it again three days later. Varric: I heard she jumped into the sea to get away. Might even be true. Either way, we didn't see her again. Varric: As for the rest of us? Eventually we all left the Champion's side for one reason or another. Varric: Well… all of us except for Isabela.

Merrill

Combat barks

Varric: Blast it! Daisy got herself knocked out!

Act 1 (The First Sacrifice)

Jethann: What can I say? Why work if you're not working hard? Isabela: Ooh, I like him. He reminds me of someone. Merrill: He does? Who is it? Varric: I'll tell you when you're older, Daisy.

Act 1 (Banter)

Merrill: I've never met a dwarf before. Varric: That's because you've spent too much time frolicking in the woods, Daisy. Dwarves don't frolic. Merrill: Dalish don't really frolic, either. Not in the woods, anyway. Varric: Still got that ball of twine? Merrill: I left it at my house. Don't worry! I won't get lost while we're following Hawke. Varric: Bring it next time, Daisy. Just in case. Varric: Daisy, for my sake, please quit cutting through the alleys in Lowtown alone at night. Merrill: Nothing ever happens. I'm perfectly safe, Varric. Varric: Yes, I know. And that nothing is costing me a fortune.

Act 2 (Family Matter)

Varric: I don't know if surface dwarves go back to the Stone, or hang around singing hymns with Andraste, or what. Varric: I just hope wherever he is now, Bartrand stays out of trouble. Hawke: If you're worried about it, we could ask one of the priests to pray for him. Varric: I'm pretty sure that any decent priest who prays for Bartrand would burst into flames. Merrill: But that's awful! I had no idea priesthood was so dangerous! Varric: Don't worry, Daisy. The Chantry keeps a lot of water on hand.

Act 2 (A Rumour Making the Rounds)

Varric: I’m not spreading rumors. I’m just telling you which way the wind is blowing. Hawke: It fills my heart with joy to know you’re not telling people I’m sleeping with an ogre. Varric: Don't call Daisy an ogre! You'll make her cry. Hawke: You had better not be spreading wild rumors about me. Varric: Of course not! Not wild ones, at least. I only spread those about Daisy. Varric: Anyway, all I'm saying is, don't be surprised if people look a little nervous around you.

Act 2 (Friendly Concern)

Varric: Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Varric: There definitely seems to be something between you and Daisy these days. Varric: So, what's going on, Hawke? Varric: I know you don't listen to a damned thing I say, but you might want to be careful. Varric: Merrill is a sweet girl, but there's a whole lot of crazy in that little package.

Act 2 (Banter)

Varric: So, I hear you've been visiting the viscount's gardens, Daisy. Merrill: They're enormous! And they're always empty. Why don't more people go to see them? Varric: Probably because they're private and surrounded by guards. Merrill: Bianca is a very pretty name. Varric: I'll tell her you said so, Daisy. Merrill: She can't actually hear you, can she? Varric: Of course she can. What kind of a question is that? Merrill: I'm sorry about your brother, Varric. Have you any other family? Varric: I have family like a rat has fleas, Daisy. Merrill: Does that mean you have a lot of family, or that they make you itch a lot? Varric: Both.

Act 2 (To Catch a Thief)

Hawke: Sounds like the Qunari take their reading very seriously. Isabela: Is there anything the Qunari don't take seriously? Merrill: I'm sure there's something. Maybe knock-knock jokes? Varric: You just keep working on that, Daisy. Let us know if you figure it out.

Act 3 (A Talking To)

Varric: Come on, Daisy. You shouldn't be stuck in this rat-trap. Does Hawke even know you're here? Merrill: I don't have to ask permission to come to my own house, Varric. Varric: Come on, Daisy. You've been holed up in here for days. If you don't get some sunshine, you'll wilt. Merrill: I'm not a plant, Varric. I'm fine.

Act 3 (A New Path)

Varric: Does anybody else get the feeling that this is going to end badly? Just me, huh? Merrill: It's not all bad, Varric. Think of the stories you'll be able to tell later! Varric: No offense, Daisy, but I could live without telling anyone we murdered you on some mountainside.

Act 3 (Banter)

Merrill: Is there a story behind Bianca? Varric: There's a story behind everything, Daisy. Merrill: So tell me! Varric: I can't. Varric: There was a girl, and I made a promise. Bianca is the only story I can never tell. Merrill: You can't say that! Now I want to know even more! Varric: That was the idea, Daisy. Varric: Twine? When did I loan you a ball of twine? Merrill: You gave it to me when I first moved here when I kept getting lost in Lowtown. Merrill: It drove the merchants in the market completely batty, but it did help me find my way. Varric: Keep it, Daisy. Varric: So… Hawke and Daisy? Isabela: I think they're darling together.

Act 3 Climax (Banter)

Varric: I've got you and Aveline, Fenris and Anders. Hawke. Isabela. Varric: I've got friends in the Circle and drinking buddies in the templars. All of them matter. Merrill: But you're going to fight. If it comes to that, I mean. Varric: I fought my own brother, Daisy. Nobody said this was going to be a happy story. Merrill: Varric, how does the story end? Varric: Which story, Daisy? Merrill: The big one. With us and Hawke, the mages, the templars. Everything. Varric: You want to know before it happens? You're not worried about spoiling the surprise? Merrill: I might not see it end. Varric: You have to stick with us if you want to know how it turns out, Daisy.

Legacy DLC (Banter)

Merrill: Am I in your stories, Varric? Varric: Daisy, everyone is fair game for my stories. Merrill: I never hear any stories with me in them! What sorts of things do I do? Varric: Well, you get lost a lot. You wind up in the middle of a dog-racing track in Darktown. Or in the viscount's bathing room. Merrill: So they're true stories? Varric: Daisy, I could never make that stuff up. Nobody would believe it. Merrill: Do your stories ever have griffons in them? Varric: Kind of tricky because they're extinct. You can work a griffon attack into a tale, but it takes skill. Merrill: I was thinking more like… heroic griffons. The sort that swoop in and save the day. Varric: Daisy, haven't you heard? Swooping is bad. Merrill: Do you really hate the Deep Roads? Anders: Anybody with sense would hate them. They're a darkspawn-filled pit that goes on forever. Merrill: The dwarves still live in the Deep Roads, don't they? It can't be all bad. Anders: The dwarves are crazy. Varric: He's got a point there, Daisy. Hawke: Varric. I've heard… stories of a personal nature being spread around town. Varric: You're the Champion of Kirkwall. People pay attention to everything you do. And everyone. Varric: I haven't breathed a word to anyone about you and Daisy. Maybe you'd better have a talk with Uncle Greasy?

Mark of the Assassin DLC (Banter)

Merrill: Tell me a story, Varric. Varric: Right now? I don't think we have time, Daisy. Merrill: Maybe a very short story, then? Please? Varric: Fine. "When the cards turned, he lost." Merrill: Oh. Did it have to be so sad? Merrill: I know you're in the Merchants Guild, Varric, but I've never seen your shop. Varric: We're not that kind of merchant, Daisy. Merrill: What kind are you, then? Varric: House Tethras invests in… you're not going to understand a word of this financial stuff, are you?

Mark of the Assassin DLC (Rescue)

Varric: Daisy? You don't happen to have that ball of twine, do you? Merrill: I knew I forgot something when we left Kirkwall! Varric: Don't beat yourself up over it. We'll just… wait here until I think of something. Varric: Blondie, I hate to say this, but I'm pretty sure we've been here before. Anders: Blast it! But we went left this time! We shouldn't have come full-circle again! Varric: I wish I hadn't given that ball of twine to Daisy.

Narration

Varric: As for the rest of us? Eventually we all left the Champion’s side for one reason or another. Varric: Well… all of us except for Merrill.

Tallis

Mark of the Assassin DLC (Banter)

Tallis: Thank you for deciding to do this. Hawke: I'm a sucker for hard cases. Just look at my companions. Varric: You have no idea, Tallis. Varric: All right, Shivs, I'll admit it: I'm surprised the Qunari employ thieves. They never struck me as the subtle type. Tallis: That's because you've only met the antaam. Armies aren't usually celebrated for their sneakiness. Also, "Shivs?" Varric: Yes, "Shivs." So, how does stealing valuables from a pompous Orlesian noble fit in with your Qun?

Mark of the Assassin DLC (Interrogation)

Cassandra: We had someone there, but they lacked your access. Whatever Tallis was to the Champion, it seems like it angered a nation. Varric: Thousands of lives were at stake, Seeker. Cassandra: Perhaps one still is. Varric: Nicely nonspecific. All right, let me set the scene: an ambush, an invitation, a hunting party. Varric: All because of Tallis. Varric: I don't know why Hawke didn't kill Tallis. I suppose she was pretty for a Qunari. Varric: I don't know why Hawke didn't kill Tallis. I suppose the elf did have her nose. Varric: I don't know why Hawke helped Tallis. I suppose she was pretty for a Qunari. Varric: I don't know why Hawke helped Tallis. I suppose the elf did have her nose. Varric: Whatever the reason, I doubt it's the last we've seen of her.

#canonical texts #these first two parts were already mostly done before I decided to start posting but the third part is NOT do not expect it soon

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angsty-prompt-hole · 1 year

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all of the pre-relationship bracket for an oc couple of your choosing

Oh the Haven/Liam brainrot is hitting me hard now so I'll do this for them.

How did they first meet?

Through supremely funny circumstances ngl. Liam had just ruined all of his close relationships because he had let an eldritch abomination possess him so that he had the power to go after the serial killers that had killed his sister and a handful of other people, and eldritch energy tends to linger, so he kind of reeked of eldritch.

Haven was visiting a friend of hers who just so happened to live in the same building as Liam and was friends with him, a woman named Fred (she will come up later lmao), and Haven sensed the eldritch energy radiating from Liam. She has a bit of a history with this particular creature, so she stormed down to his apartment, kicked the door in, and threatened to kill him before Fred stopped her and explained the situation.

What was their first impression of each other?

Liam was honestly just kind of bamboozled at first. This woman had just broken into his apartment and threatened to kill him, but also she was kind of hot in an unhinged way, and she was the only one who didn't treat him like a fragile glass sculpture because of what he had been through.

Haven kind of just looked at Liam and went "oh...oh he's pathetic and fucked up...I must have him." It was also very weird for her to find someone who wasn't scared of her, and that kind of infuriated her.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Oh my god Fred shipped these two so hard she could tell they liked each other and she did literally everything in her power to put them in situations where they would be trapped alone together. And considering she had taught herself magic, there was a lot she could do lmao.

Liam's found family (a group of young adults he had kind of sort of adopted: Nicholas, Patricia, and Annie) had varying opinions on this. Patricia did NOT like Haven at all, Nicholas was down with helping Fred plan her shenanigans to get them together but he didn't really have a strong opinion about it, and Annie secretly kind of liked Haven, but she was too scared of Liam to really tell him she approved.

Haven's phoenix Fenris also very much approved of their relationship, but only if he got to third wheel because he likes to be in the center of EVERYTHING.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Definitely Haven. She will deny it forever and always, but she definitely felt attraction first.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Haven fought HARD against her feelings. She had had a lot of bad, traumatic experiences with relationships in the past, and she was TERRIFIED of entering into another one. One of her past relationships had been a manipulative immortal serial killer, one of them had been killed by said serial killer before she could admit her feelings, and her last non-one night stand had ended with the other person breaking up with her because they were scared of Haven's intensity.

She crumbled almost instantly when Liam showed a single crumb of genuine affection towards her though.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Haven: What the FUCK are you on about?? That's bullshit. No one likes me that much.

Liam, very hopefully: Wait, really?

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

A big part of their relationship arc is that they would both be so much worse off without each other. Liam was quickly on his way to drinking himself to death because of how he damaged his relationships with his found family and the trauma of everything he'd been through, and Haven would have probably turned out ten times worse had Liam not become what was basically her morality pet.

Haven did have other very important relationships that might have kept her grounded (like her two children she basically adopted, Fred, and her phoenix Fenris), but none of them were romantic, and none of them ever got to know Haven as well as Liam did. Even if it hadn't been romantic, Liam was able to get close to Haven and help her heal in a way no one else had been able to do in centuries, and it was crucial for her in so many ways.

#answered #vacantgodling #i love these two so much #theyre so fucked up but theyre so good for each other #thank you for the ask!

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nikethestatue · 2 years

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The Kings’ Wife

Chapter 6

Clean Up on Aisle Seven

warnings: mostly language, sexual situations

I want to ruin you beautifully

“Where is Fenrys?” Azriel came downstairs, dressed for the day, in his suit.

Only Ruhn was in the kitchen, his sword strapped to his back, his long hair braided–the man was ready for his day, and whoever was about to cross his path would probably not live to tell the tale.

“I heard him in the morning, very briefly, and after that,” Ruhn shrugged his big shoulders and sipped his coffee.

“Any idea where my wife is?” Azriel rummaged in the cupboard and got a cereal box out.

Ruhn hid a smirk.

The great and fearsome Azriel King, the man who frightened and threatened, sitting at the counter, eating Honey Nut Cheerios with entirely too much milk, in Ruhn’s opinion.

“I am going to hazard a guess that she is with Fenrys,” he said at last, biting into his croissant.

“It’s not even eight in the morning!” Azriel grunted. It was obvious that he didn’t like not seeing Elain at the table, in the kitchen, for breakfast.

“My brother,” Ruhn said pacifically, “once Fenrys is in the game, I think you need to accept that you and I are playing second and third banana respectively,”

“She is my wife,”

“Hmmm,” Ruhn sighed, “but can any wife really be faulted for succumbing to Fenrys’s unrelenting charms? Come on now. Even if you were a wife, you’d be in the same position. He is blond, he is ripped, he is tall, he is hung like a stallion. What do you expect a girl to do?”

“This is not helping,”

“Gonna be honest with you, Az,” Ruhn continued. “That virginity thing that you are gearing to take–it might not be there by the end of the day.”

“Still not helping,” Azriel groaned into his cereal.

“Hey, it’s a Fenrys Moonbeam world and we are all just living in it,”

Having finished his croissant, Ruhn lit a cigarette and added,

“Oh, and,”

“No, I think it’s enough,” Azriel stopped him.

“I am just saying–the English accent,”

“Oh, fuck me,” Azriel moaned dramatically, burying his face in his hands. “Oh god. I forgot. I forgot about the English accent,”

“Honestly, he’s been pretty good at keeping it on the DL,” Ruhn laughed softly. “But I am guessing today is the day he will unleash it on the unsuspecting Elain,”

“Not the English accent!”

“It’s a real panty dropper,” Ruhn kept laughing. “Knickers just melt when the 6”5 English god of sex unveils his London accent. You and I stand literally no chance,”

“Why are you doing this?” Azriel demanded.

“Just preparing you for the inevitable!”

“I know, I know, she is already besotted with him. Who isn’t?”

“All the ladies, many men. He is jolly,”

“He is jolly.”

Azriel nodded and sighed.

“But you know he is going to offer her ‘a cuppa’ and she is going to go all googly eyes over it,”

“Fucking tea,” Azriel thew his bowl into the sink, probably with some unnecessary aggression. “She is Italian, why is she drinking tea?”

“The power of a hot English guy with an English accent. And a cuppa.”

Azriel got up, pulling his tie in a knot with enough strength to strangle an ordinary mortal and then barked,

“Alright, you got work to do. See ya.”

Ruhn grinned and saluted him, saying, “yes boss’.

As Azriel half-stormed out of the house, extremely unusually agitated, Ruhn couldn't help but laugh to himself. His brother definitely didn’t like his wife spending time with Fen.

Cassian Anteroga-Rossi was driving a van. A van . Through New York City, feeling and looking like an idiot. Because who actually possessed and drove a van in this city?

But, of course, Fenrys, who always tittered on the edge of reality on a good day, decided to kill someone. Before noon. On a Tuesday. In public.

When Cassian got the call, announcing that clean up was needed on ‘aisle seven’ he knew that’s what it was–a murder, in public. At least no witnesses, as far as he could tell. ‘Clean up on aisle three’ for example, meant that someone was tortured, but still alive, and needed to be dumped somewhere. ‘Aisle five’ meant tortured and killed. ‘Aisle ten’ was a FUBAR type of a situation–murder, in public, with witnesses, perhaps with face recognition. Basically the one situation no one ever wanted to be in. Thankfully, they haven’t gotten to ‘aisle ten’ ever. Or, maybe, yet.

Fenrys texted him the coordinates, and Cassian drove as fast as he could, swearing under his breath, because every minute was a minute too late. Every minute was a minute when Fenrys could be pinched. The problem with Fenrys was that he was wild and difficult to control and whenever he was the one who summoned Cassian to do a clean up job, Cassian’s heart dropped. Because Fenrys was the guy who killed someone with an orange once. As in fruit. He jammed it so hard in the guy’s mouth, he dislocated a jaw and basically suffocated him with citrus. He also killed a fella with an ice cream cone–the sugar kid, with the pointy end–by slamming it into the man’s eye until it lodged into his brain. Really, when it came to fighting and murder, Fenrys was known to utilize everything–food, household items, kitchen utensils, umbrellas, shoes, you name it, he probably used it. Unlike Ruhn, who liked to fight with his fists, those knuckles thick with scars, and trained to break jaws and withstand impacts that would otherwise shatter the hand and break the wrist, Fenrys always found more inventive ways of killing someone. Once he force-fed someone shrimp, knowing that they were allergic to shellfish and watched them die of anaphylactic shock. Azriel was the only ‘normal’ one–he detested touch, especially body fluids from random males who were bleeding or drooling or sweating. So he used knives and machetes and guns. Guns. Like a proper villain.

Yes, Fenrys was an interesting kind of a guy. As Cassian drove through Harlem, he figured that it wasn’t terribly surprising, considering that you couldn’t be normal when you watched your whole family gunned down in front of your eyes, including your little brother and your mom, when you were not yet ten years old. And then ripped away from your country and sent to your dick of an uncle.

Cassian didn’t know what to expect as he pulled up to a small ugly Chinese restaurant that’s seen better days, at least on the outside. Frankly, his favorite Chinese place had no name; they just called it Soho Chinese, you had to enter it from the alley, there were always lines half a mile long and the place had a Michelin star. So who was he to judge? He wouldn’t have even known about the Michelin star, if it hadn’t been for the owner, Harri Feng, dropping a random tidbit of information that the Vanserras were hassling him for payoffs. Well, after that, Cassian set up a little personal recon mission, eventually broke the Vanserra thug’s wrists and sent a warning to leave the restaurant alone. Harri somehow figured it out, but Cass didn’t want any payments or thanks, other than a free order of sticky spicy spareribs with every order.

So, as he stood in front of the interestingly named The Chow of Fun restaurant, he didn’t know what to expect. A restaurant full of bleeding bodies Kill Bill -style? One guy dead, with his face buried in a bowl of noodles? (Remember, Fenrys likes murdering with food) Someone with a meat cleaver protruding from their chest? Ugh, he hoped not a wok or a vat of boiling oil, and someone in it. Cassian had a delicate stomach when it came to burns.

He’d scanned the street around him, but did not notice Fen’s usual rides–fancy or overly Anglicized cars, whether a Mini with a Union Jack or a Bentley.

He entered the restaurant, which was bustling at this time–it was lunch–and looked around for Fenrys, failing to locate him. An old Asian woman came over to him and glancing conspiratorially, asked, “You for Mista Fen?”

“Yeah, I am here for Mister Fen,” he nodded.

She pointed to a side door and whispered, “Mista Fen upstairs”.

Well, there was no Kill Bill massacre that he’d have to clean up, which was a relief. But watching people slurp piping hot noodles in 90-degree heat was another kind of torture. Why people did this to themselves, he couldn’t fathom.

At least Mista Fen seemed to be a regular here. Cass was absolutely certain that Fenrys had made friends with the owners, like he made friends with everyone, and now, he could probably hide out here whenever he wanted.

Slouching, so not to hit his head, he made it up the narrow staircase and opened the door.

Stepping onto a rooftop, which had seating consisting of plastic tables and chairs and some string lights, it was currently completely empty.

Well, not empty.

It had two occupants. Mista Fen and Mrs. Azriel King.

Making out.

No.

This was way, way beyond making out. Cassian stopped in his tracks. He was rarely shocked, having served in the army, having seen people blown up and tortured and raped. This though, he wasn’t prepared for at all.

Elain sat on one of those plastic tables, with Fenrys standing between her legs. Her blue jersey dress was hiked up to her thighs, almost to her stomach, and all Cassian saw was lots of exposed skin. The stretchy dress was pulled down over her tits as well, and they were pale and creamy and pink and absolutely bare, squished within Fenrys’s massive hands. He was kissing her filthily, with tongue and smacking and complete ravenous determination. Like she was the last woman on earth. Like she was his last woman. And she was purring against him, her hand lost in his blond curls, tugging him closer, her long legs wrapped around his thighs.

“We are going to make such damn hot kids, baby pie!” Cassian overheard Fenrys exclaim excitedly.

The announcement did not surprise Elain apparently. She only laughed and started kissing him again.

What the hell was baby pie? A small pie? A pie for babies? Did babies eat pies?

Cassian’s mind ran wild and yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Couldn’t walk away from watching this–this sexy train wreck of a disaster. He thought that Fenrys was crazy before, but truly the man’s lost his mind!

Because Fenrys cupped those lovely full tits and clamped his teeth over the nipples, both at once, and pulled on them, tugging and nipping, and surely hurting her, if it weren't for her wild, desperate moan of pleasure. He sucked and sucked, and licked and chewed, his hand disappearing between her thighs and though Cassian couldn’t see it from this angle, but the explicit slurping sound that her pussy made when Fenrys sunk his finger into her told him enough.

In the middle of NYC, at lunch, on the roof of some decrepit building that now housed a Chinese restaurant, Fenrys Moonbeam was fingering his sister-in-law.

Jesus fucking Christ!

Cassian forgot all about the dead body that he was supposed to have been finding and transporting.

Because this seemed like a massive disaster in the making. Was he terribly surprised that Elain succumbed to the charms of the blond unruly Englishman? No, no he wasn’t. But that Fenrys would do this, right after the wedding? Did he really have a death wish? Because Azriel was not someone who could be toyed and played with like this.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Fenrys grunted, pressing his forehead to hers, his hand going from exploring and cautious to to full on ramming–thrusting hard and deep, the sounds juicy and obscene. Her moans turned into gasping, pathetic whimpers as she swayed against him, her tongue darting out to lick on his.

She looked a wanton, sexy mess and Cassian couldn’t help himself and licked his lips. Elain wasn’t his type, but a naked beauty in the throes of sexual pleasure was a naked beauty. He didn’t know her well–Feyre was a friend, a bohemian oddball, who somehow managed to completely bewitch his wealthy cousin Rhysand. Through her, Cassian had met the other two sisters–Nesta and Elain. Through the grapevine, he’d heard that Elain has been bounced around as a marriageable option for a number of families–the Nolans, the Vanserras, even, rumour had it, the Salvaterre don himself, Lorcan. But she ended up with Azriel. A surprising choice for all parties, though Cassian figured that it was an amicable union. Probably not a love match, but Azriel looked absolutely besotted at the wedding–happier than Cassian’s ever seen him before. And now…this. He couldn’t believe it.

He finally cleared his throat, seeing how Elain finally came. He wasn’t a monster and wasn’t going to leave the woman hanging without reaching her orgasm.

“Cass, you are here!” Fenrys turned his head and smiled. He slowly pulled his hand out of Elain and licked his fingers, giving absolutely no fucks that Cassian was watching them.

“Sorry honey,” he said to Elain, who was putting her tits back into her bra and her dress, still panting, “I was going to have you for lunch, but now, we’ll have to postpone it.” She laughed softly and kissed him on the lips, before waving to Cassian and saying, “Hi Cass!”

Cassian didn’t think that Elain was a psycho, but maybe she was.

She jumped off the table and then came over to him and gave him a hug.

“Thanks for coming!” she said excitedly. “Fen killed Vinny today. Because Vinny was very rude to me. So, where are we disposing of the body?” the big brown eyes glinted with unholy light.

Fenrys wrapped his arm around Elain and pulled her to him.

“Who the hell is Vinny?” Cassian demanded, staring dagger at both of them.

“Doesn’t matter who Vinny is,” Fenrys waved his hand, “we need to,”

At that, Cassian exploded, “What the fuck is going on Fen? Are you out of your mind?!”

Elain grimaced at the display of anger and folded her arms on her chest,

“Cassian,”

“No Elain!” he bellowed. “Are you fucking nuts? What the fuck are you doing? You literally just got married!!” He yelled, waving his arms.

“Do you know what Azriel will do when he finds out?!” he shook his finger at her, “and he will find out. Mark my words!”

“And you! You stupid idiot,” he turned to Fenrys, “you can never keep it zipped up in your pants, can you?”

“It’s trousers to you,” Fenrys corrected him dryly.

“Cassian, it’s okay,” Elain attempted to soothe him, as she lay her hand on his.

“Okay?” he threw his hands up in the air, “okay? What is okay about it, Elain? You are getting fingered in the middle of Manhattan, by your fucking bro-in-law!”

She frowned and muttered, “okay, rude,”

“Rude? I am rude? You haven’t seen Azriel ‘rude’, you stupid girl,”

“Hey, hey, that’s enough,” Fenrys stepped between the two of them, while Elain turned red and snarled angrily, “fuck you, Cassian! Who the hell do you think you are?!”

“I am not going to allow you to cuckold my cousin!”

“Not allow me?” she yelled, and then in one swift move, snatched Fenrys’s knife that was sheathed at his hip.

“Whoa, whoa!” Fen waved his arms, attempting to calm her down. “He doesn’t meant it, baby,”

“I do fucking mean it!” Cassian grunted savagely. “You have one task and one task only to accomplish, stupid little girl,” he lunged at her, trying to snatch the knife, but he was unsuccessful. In a surprisingly agile move, Elain moved and pulled the knife away from him, almost slicing his hand.

“Elain!” Fenrys barked. “We don’t need any extra DNA out there! You wanna cut him, you do that later on, love,”

“I will cut this misogynistic prick!” she vowed, scowling.

“You listen to me, you little twerp,” Cassian lunged at her again, with renewed vigour, only to be caught on the shoulder by Fen’s iron grip.

“Easy there, big fella,” Fen gritted out. “And quit calling her names!”

“She said I am misogynistic, where I fucking am not !”

Elain’s chin jutted out, but she did not release her knife.

“I am not lying to Az,” Cassian finally stopped trying to reach her and crossed his arms on his chest. “You are to give him a kid. That’s the deal. You are to fulfill the bargain and the family agreement and deliver a King heir,” he jabbed his finger into Fen’s chest. “He is not a King! He is,”

“I am too!” Fenrys laughed. “I’ve been demoted from my throne,”

“Listen you demented Englishman with a perpetual hard-on,”

“Ouch,” but Fenrys was laughing, “that’s quite the pet name, Cass! You know, you are my cousin too,”

“Shut up,”

“Baby, can I please have my knife back,” Fenrys asked, smiling at her. “You’ve got some moves, girl. We’ll have to discuss this later,”

“Are we going to get Vinny?” she finally asked, still glaring at Cassian, though she handed the knife back to Fenrys.

“Yeah, we probably should get Vinny,” Fen agreed, “or he’ll be baked into a pie soon. Also, Cass,” he clapped him on the shoulder, “Az knows. Do you think I’d be the kind of cunt who’d be diddling my sister-in-law behind my brother’s back?”

Cassian stared at them suspiciously.

“It’s an arrangement we have, Cassian ,” Elain spat at last, still seething. “And while the state of my vagina is none of your damn business, I know full well whose child I am supposed to have first. But, we’ve made a decision between the four of us,”

“What decision,”

“We all married babygirl,” Fenrys shrugged and then kissed the top of Elain’s head.

Perplexed, Cassian just stared at them.

“Gotta go, buddy,” Fen snapped his fingers. “Like now, let’s go!”

He headed toward the door, with Elain on his heels, but before she reached it, Cassian caught her by the arm. She whirled at him, ready to strike, but he said,

“Sorry, Elain. And you are in agreement? With this arrangement?”

“Of course!”

Cassian placed his hands on her shoulders and said, “Elain, I apologise for my words. But…they aren’t forcing you, are they?” his brow furrowed and she realised that he was genuinely concerned for her.

Patting his hand, Elain assured him, “No, Cass. It was my decision. No one forced me into anything. I just felt…” she sighed, “a special sort of closeness with them…like, I wanted to be with them. I, I know it’s unorthodox,”

“Quite,” he grunted.

“But I want it,” she insisted stubbornly. “It’s my life, and I want it to be what I want it to be!”

“I mean, I get it, I guess,”

“You don’t have to get it. You just have to accept it.”

She turned and eased from under his hold and went downstairs, with him following her.

They found Vinny’s body by the dumpster, covered with boxes and bags. Cassian backed the van up into the alley, and Elain watched how he opened a secret compartment in the back of the van, and he and Fenrys ably stuffed the body in there. It was obvious that it wasn't their first time doing this.

“Climb in,” Cassian instructed and Elain listened, wordlessly climbing into the front seat, only to be joined by Fenrys on the passenger side. Meanwhile, Cass poured a gallon of bleach all over the spot where Vinny was hidden on the ground, tossed the plastic jug and plastic gloves into the secret compartment and then jumped into the driver seat.

They drove onto the street and smoothly weaved into the traffic.

“Why is there a baby seat in the back?” Elain asked at last, after a good ten minutes of silence. During the time, Cass comfortably navigated the streets, knowing where he was going, and glancing in the mirror once in a while, to make sure they were not being followed.

“If it’s a normal family van with a baby seat in the back, the cops are much less likely to stop it,” he explained, glaring straight ahead, “than if it’s a white rapey murder van,”

“Makes sense,” Elain nodded thoughtfully. She was sucking on an orange lollipop which was making her tongue bright orange.

Then,

“So, where are we going?”

Then,

“What are we gonna do with Vinny?”

“Stop calling him by his name,” Cassian snapped. “It’s weird. It’s just a body. And stop asking so many questions Miss Mafia Princess,”

Elain pouted, while muttering under her breath, “I am a Queen.”

Fenrys barked a laugh and pulled her to kiss her temple. Elain licked on her lolly and then offered it to Fenrys, who latched on it like it was a tit.

Cassian gave them a side glance and then rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

She pulled the lollipop from Fenrys’s lips and swallowed it back.

“Gross,” Cass grumbled.

“You are gross,” she muttered. “Have you even been in a relationship before?”

“Have you?”

“I am in a relationship now. And in relationships, you share, Cassian .”

Fenrys was smiling at the bickering.

“God you are annoying,” she sighed. “I am not putting one good word for you to Nesta,”

At that, Cassian looked quickly at her and asked,

“What about Nesta? What did she say?”

“She didn’t say anything,” Elain continued licking on her pop and Fenrys moaned, “babygirl, quit that. Or I’ll have those lips wrapped around my dick pretty soon,”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” Cassian cried. “Get the hell out of my van. Or stop with your gross sex talk!”

“Cass, are you a virgin?” Elain asked sweetly.

“Are you?”

Then, roughly, he asked, “What did Nes say about me?”

“Nes? Nes ?” Elain almost choked on her lolly.

Fenrys cocked his brow and also wondered, “Nes is it?”

“I just didn't finish pronouncing her name,” Cassian grumbled defensively, flushing.

Elain shrugged and said, cruelly, “you aren’t her type.”

“Excuse me? And what’s wrong with me?”

“You come at Nes with ‘ I’ve travelled 500 miles to give you my seed! I am to breed my sons upon your womb, woman’ ,” Elain said in a deep voice, imitating him, while Fenrys was hollering with laughter next to her, “she’ll probably rip your nuts off.”

“Oh baby, what a visual,” Fenrys shuddered.

“You understand I'd never say that to her, right?” Cassian protested. “I don't have to travel more than like six miles tops to give her my seed,”

“Oh, good to know. So you’ll only say it me?”

“Mother’s tits you got a mouth on you,”

“She does,” Fenrys nodded, smirking meaningfully.

“Don’t need to know the details of your sexual shenanigans,” Cassian waved him off.

They drove all the way to Jersey, where Vinny was unceremoniously dumped into an incinerator at some steel plant.

“Should we say something?” Elain proposed.

“Elain, made men don’t always get pretty funerals,” Cassian told her.

“Well, I think we should,”

Cassian sighed and then began, “Our Father who art in Heaven,”

Fenrys interrupted him and quoted,

“ Here's to the bee who stung the bull that got the bull to buckin,

Here's to God for creating Adam and Eve that got the world a fuckin’! ”

Elain elbowed him and sneered, “what the hell kind of a prayer is this?”

“An English one,” he laughed and wrapping her arm around her shoulders said, “let’s go. Az is probably going to send a rescue party!”

“Where the hell have you been?”

It was around four in the afternoon by the time they actually made it back.

“Why haven’t you been picking up your phone?” Azriel ranted at them, the moment they stepped into the house. He turned to Elain, looking at her, with both fury and disappointment, “and you? Why aren’t you answering any texts?”

She stared at him, somewhat fed up with men yelling at her today and threw her bag on the floor.

“You took my phone away, Azriel–before the wedding,” she reminded him icily, while behind her, Fenrys was making big wild eyes at Az, trying to bring him down from his irritation, but Azriel didn’t look at him.

Elain added, “I am still waiting to get it back,”

“Oh, well, I,” he began explaining.

“Yeah,” she strolled to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, chugging it. “Well.”

“Where were you?” Azriel repeated his question.

He was dressed informally for once–but in all black. Black jeans, black t-shirt that stretched over his muscular torso, hugging every dent and bulge of his body, and boots.

“Fen killed Vinny and we had to dispose of the body,” Elain said like she was discussing her garden or cucumber sandwiches.

“I am sorry, what?” Azriel turned to her and stared, confusion and shock written on his handsome face.

Elain toed off her booties and then plopped on the sofa, showing him her left hand and wiggling her fingers, “And I got a ring from Fen,”

“What do you mean Fen killed someone?” Azriel’s voice sounded like death.”Were you attacked?”

“No,” Elain shrugged, “but we met with Vinny–well, Fen did, and,”

She wasn’t able to finish her tale, before Azriel flew at Fenrys and his fist connected with the blond man’s jaw. Fenrys, surprisingly, withstood the initial attack, and did not retaliate, allowing Azriel the first, brutal punch. Azriel slammed into Fen like a giant black bat, his massive shoulder pushing into the man’s gut and Fenrys skidded back, though managed the remain on his feet, grabbing Azriel’s waist and shoving him back. But a vicious punch in the kidney had Fenrys wheezing and despite Elain’s frantic shouts, and futile attempts to pull them apart, they went at each other like savages, pounding each other’s faces and bodies, blows landing all over their torsos. They were huge men and in the melee, Elain was knocked down on her ass, whipped across the floor, and slid all the way to the kitchen island, the marble finally breaking her spinning.

“Elain!” both men yelled in unison, while she looked around dazed, rubbing her head.

They crawled towards her, blood trailing them on the floor, trying to get to her first, while pushing and shoving each other.

“Elain are you okay?” Azriel cried out, horrified, “I am sorry, Elain,”

“Auuu,” she moaned, “stop fighting, you idiots!”

That, however, did not have the desired effect and only enraged Azriel further, and he flipped and pounced on Fenrys, renewing his assault.

“You stupid fuck!” he yelled, “you took her on a job?! Are you fucking nuts?”

“He did what? ”

Behind them, Ruhn’s voice boomed, angry and icy. No one even noticed him coming in.

“Noo,” Elain leapt between the charging Ruhn, who was running at them like a linebacker and for a moment, she thought ‘this is how I die’. But he vaulted over the sofa and then pulled the men apart, only to land a blow on Fenrys’s face.

“So what!?” Elain screamed, “we went on a job and it was awesome!”

Bloodied and bruised, Fenrys smiled a happy smile, his teeth red, his dark eyes glaring at her with excitement, despite Ruhn punching him in the gut.

“Awesome? Fucking awesome?” raged Azriel, this time at her. “Do you understand how stupid and dangerous this is? You have no,”

“I was with Fen!”

“I don't care who you were with. You are my fucking wife and you’ll do as I say!” he roared. “Go to your room. NOW!”

“What?” she scrambled to her feet, tears bursting out of her eyes.

“Go to your goddamn room!” he ordered. “Or I’ll drag you there myself!”

“Whoa, Az,” was the last thing Elain heard, Ruhn’s voice sharp and accusatory. “What the hell, man?”

She stormed up the stairs and went to her bedroom, slamming the door.

Downstairs, the ruckus continued, yelling and things crashing.

Elain’s heart pounded in her chest, as she tore off her dress, angrily ripping the straps and stomping on it, as she headed to the bathroom.

Fuck Azriel. Fuck him 10,000 and 3 ways to Sunday. She was enraged, her hands shaking, her breath coming in panicked gasps. The very thing that she feared the most was happening right now, all of three days after the wedding. Her husband was going to imprison her in his house, where she’d stay and do nothing. He’d sell her flower shop, or even worse, would just board it up. She didn’t have a car, didn’t have a phone, she had nowhere to go. She couldn’t even get in touch with Nesta. Feyre was already in this blasted family, so she’d be no use.

He was a damn snake, who slithered into her life with tender promises and compliments, but he was just like all of them.

Imagine! Sending her upstairs, to her room, like she was some insolent child, or an ill-behaved poodle!

As she stepped into the shower, washing off the roller-coaster of a day that she had, she kept muttering to herself in anger. She was his damn wife, just like he said, and yet he treated her like she was a four year-old who ate the birthday cake before candles. And he beat up Fenrys! And Fenrys allowed him to hit him, like he felt guilty.

They didn’t do anything wrong! Not her, and not Fen.

The door to the bathroom opened and just like he did in the morning, Fenrys strolled in. Rather, limped in.

“El, you okay?” he rasped, hobbling to the shower enclosure.

“My god, Fen!” Elain gasped, seeing him all bloodied and bruised, his lip split, his cheek swollen, half of his face covered in a blossoming bruise. She leapt out of the shower and wrapped her arms around him, fussing and not knowing where to touch him, since he kept wincing and grunting.

“That’s all, I am calling the police!” she raged, as she helped him take off his shirt. His torso was aso bruised and an angry red welt crossed his back. “I want him arrested,”

Fenrys laughed, and then moaned, “oww, oww, this is,”

“Assault!” she unbuckled his belt and he smirked, as she pulled the belt and then unzipped his jeans and had him sit down on the edge of the tub, as she squatted and began to pull his boots off. “He should be arrested!”

“El, you are naked,” he noted, rather unoriginally.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” she mumbled, “I am cold, wet and naked. And my head smacked on the island and it’s swollen,” she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her sodden head, “feel it! Feel the bump?”

“I feel the bump,” he nodded. “I am sorry,”

“You? Why are you sorry?” she exploded, “he a dickweed and an asshole and a cuntbucket!”

“Cuntbucket, huh?”

“Yes!”

“Is it like a bucket full of cunts? Or a cunt with a buck-,”

“That's not the point!” she snapped. “The point is, he is acting like he is deranged,”

“I think he is very worried about you,” Fen said softly, as she got rid of the boots, tossed them aside and began to drag his jeans down. “I think he,”

“I am sorry, I am sorry–you are defending him?” she demanded, eyes blazing with rage, looking both supremely sexy, with her soft body glistening with water and droplets running down her breasts and hips, and also frighteningly angry.

Fenrys didn’t know where to look. Also, his head swam, because he collided with the wall, when he threw Az off him, and that knocked him out a bit. But he couldn’t help but look because her nipples were delightful, and when a little droplet rolled down her breast and dangled off the plump peak, he lunged unwards, lapping on it like a dog.

“I hate him,” Elain muttered sullenly, as slipped his Calvins down his thighs and then he was naked.

Fenrys cringed, as he got up and then stumbled into the shower. Elain followed him, and he waved his hand, smirking, “You don’t hate him, babygirl,”

“I do too!”

“No you don’t,”

“You have some kind of Stockholm Syndrome,” she argued, taking a loofah and gently sponging him, trying to avoid all his cuts and bumps.

“Haha, well, he didn’t kidnap me,” Fenrys laughed, his injuries and the violent fight apparently having no real effect on his mood or his usual jovial disposition. “And I haven’t fallen in love with him either,”

“Well, neither have I!” she grumbled. “He is a nut,”

“But I do love him,” Fen assured her. “Even if he beat my face in. Maybe I deserved it,”

“No!” she yelled. “You didn’t,”

He put his hands on her hips, pulling her to him and then gently brushing his lips over hers.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken you with me…I,”

“Fenrys,” Elain grabbed his chin, squeezing it mercilessly and making him wince. “I felt…alive. Alive. For the first time in a long time! The few other times when I felt the same was when I opened my shop, and when I met,” she swallowed, “you. The three of you.”

“And I don’t want to be a housewife, who sits home and isn’t allowed to think for herself. I’ve agreed–reluctantly, mind you–to Azriel’s and Ruhn’s demands for security. But honestly, he isn’t allowed to react this way every time something is amiss,”

“It was a pretty big deal today, baby,” he argued. “We killed someone,”

Suddenly, a dark figure appeared in the doorway and Elain flinched, while Fen wrapped his arms around her and soothed her softly, just with his presence alone.

Through the drenched, fogged glass, Elain beheld her husband. His sharp handsome face was dark, no longer angry, but calm and placid. The black hair was slicked back, and he’d changed his shirt. Like Fen, he sported various injuries on his face, a cut on his forearm, a deep gash on his forehead.

He grabbed a towel from the rack and said,

“Fen, wrap your cock and give me a minute of privacy with my wife,”

Elain swallowed, nervous, already exhausted from all the fighting and feeling like she had no fight left in her. Fenrys did not argue, but wrapped a towel around his waist and padded out of the bathroom. Elain sighed and stepped out, wrapping herself in a robe. Azriel folded his arms on his chest and cocked his head, his gaze heavy and unwavering. She’d experienced that gaze before, having seen it at the wedding, when he was not entirely pleased with someone. He didn’t act, but it was unnerving, his stillness and his silence, as if he was wrapped in shadows and darkness.

“I am tired, Azriel,” Elain said honestly, “and I don’t want to argue with you.”

“I want to apologise, Elain,” he said solemnly. “What you saw today–it was not me. I am sorry, but,”

“Oh, and here is the ‘but’,” she sneered.

“Yes, there is a ‘but’,” he said coldly. “I don’t want this happening again,”

“What exactly?” she raised her brow at him, squeezing the water out of her hair.

“You gallivanting with Fenrys and going on jobs,”

“Why?”

The question seemed to take him aback for a moment, and he took a minute to respond.

“It’s…inappropriate,”

“That’s what you came up with?”

“Elain,”

“No, Azriel! You listen to me! I’ve been stifled all my life– by my father, my sister, the circumstances of my birth and my family. I was shopped around like a prized cow for someone to marry. I had no say in who I’d end up with. And as it happens, I am glad that I ended up with you!”

At that, his eyes flashed, a pleased smirk on his beautiful mouth.

“But that happiness won’t last long, if I’d just go from one jail to another. And I don’t want to hate you,”

“I think hate is a strong word,” he countered.

“I think it’s the correct word,” she insisted, sitting on the bed. “I am your wife, not some member of your organization, and not even one of your brothers. I don’t work for you. I don’t serve you,” she reminded him.

“This is not about that,” he was frustrated, threading his fingers through his hair. “It’s dangerous,”

“I know the life we live, I know what’s dangerous,”

“Elain, I said no,” his tone was firm, uncompromising. “You cannot go on jobs. Even,”

“It was the one thing that made me breathe and laugh,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “To experience that freedom…the exhilaration,”

“Fenrys killed someone, Elain!” Azriel snapped. “In front of you! And what would happen if you got caught? Fenrys is a madman–he does parkour! He can jump from a 4th story building and land on his feet, and propel himself over walls and from balcony to balcony. He runs like a fucking antelope! He also fights with fists, and knives, and daggers, and pots and pans and banana peels! There is no stopping him,”

“So,”

“So,” he snapped, “if shit hits the fan, Fen can get away!! You can’t! So, what’s he gonna do?!?! Stay with you obviously. And then I lose a brother and a wife?!?”

“You are exaggerating,” she argued feebly.

“Am I? Jobs go bad! All the time,” he said roughly, “and while I trust my brothers, I am sorry, but I don’t trust you,”

“So, that’s the end of it? You just decided for me,”

He shrugged, “it is what it is. I am the boss and the husband–that’s my decision.”

Elain bit her lip until it hurt, until it was almost blood, but she did not allow herself tears.

Azriel watched her in silence, and there was a tick in his jaw, like he was fighting with himself, but she didn’t help him in any manner. She looked up and pursed her lips and asked coldly,

“Am I still allowed to work in my shop, husband?”

His tongue ran over his teeth, as he attempted to hide his annoyance, but at last, he answered,

“I promised that you would, Elain. And I am a man of my word. You are free to work at your shop.”

“Wow, how generous of you.”

“Elain,” he grunted.

She shrugged and said,

“I thought that I married a knight in shining armour…but I married,”

“Me,” he snarled. “You married me! I never promised to be a knight! You are stuck with what you got. Your life isn’t exactly very difficult there,”

“No,” her tone was icy, “it’s delightful. Now, do take care about destroying furniture in my house. If it is, of course, my house. Or maybe I am just a roommate here, who needs to ask for permission to leave her room…or, order to go to her room,”

“Oh my god!” he threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “I am done with this conversation!”

“Well, you are the boss and the husband, so I suppose it’s your decision.”

He turned on his heel and stormed to the door. As he ripped it open, he turned around and threw,

“Suppose there is no chance of consummation tonight, is there?”

In response, Elain rolled an invisible lever, and slowly raised her middle finger to him.

“I thought so.”

When Azriel came downstairs, it was quiet and music was playing.

“Did you know that dolphins sleep with one eye open?”

He heard Fenrys ask excitedly.

To which Ruhn responded,

“So do I. Maybe I am a dolphin,”

“I went swimming with the dolphins once,” Elain interfered, “and it bit me!”

“A dolphin bit you?” Fenrys gasped.

“Sounds fake, but okay,”

“No, no really, here!”

Azriel supposed she was showing them some kind of evidence on her body–probably a scar.

“Octopuses have one arm that’s a penis!” she announced excitedly.

“Well, I have two arms and a penis,” Fenrys argued reasonably.

“Yeah, but one of your arms isn't a penis, Fen!” Elain argued.

“I can make anything into a penis,” he insisted. “Any appendage I possess can be used for pleasure,”

“Please be quiet,” Ruhn moaned.

Azriel wanted to moan with him.

When he finally made himself known, his brothers looked at him, but Elain pointedly ignored his arrival.

He was surprised to be sure, to see her here, figuring that she’d be pouting and ignoring him and his presence for at least a couple of days. But here she was. Tucked between the two towering men, leaning on Fen’s shoulder. They were looking at someone’s phone–apparently finding useful information like where squid penises were located.

Elain was dressed in her leggings and a tanktop, and a tiara on her head. Where the hell she got a tiara, he wasn’t sure, and why she decided to wear it, but here they were. He didn’t comment, more concerned about the fact that Elain had seen, and probably touched, both of his brothers’ penises by now. He was irritated by the thought. Considering how comfortable she was with Fen in the shower and his monster cock, he figured that she’d acquainted herself with it prior.

The table was set for dinner.

As they made a beeline to it, Ruhn offered, “you can sit on my lap, pretty girl”.

“She is not sitting on your lap,” Azriel gritted through his teeth.

“What did you cook, what did you cook?!” Fenrys asked excitedly. “Also, you totally don't have to cook for us, but if you wanna, do it! Your cooks are delicious!”

“My cooks?” she laughed, doing something at the stove.

“Your cooks and your bakes!”

“Cacio e pepe,” she explained. “With a fried egg!”

“Ohhh, carbtacular dinner!” Fenrys rubbed his hands.

Elain swirled the pasta into a perfect little mound on the plates, topped it with a fried egg and more black pepper and then brought it to the table on a tray. They were already helping themselves to some prosciutto and cheese and sweet baby tomatoes, while Ruhn was pouring everyone wine.

She sat a plate in front of each man and herself, before taking her place at the head of the table.

“What is this?” Fenrys asked curiously, looking at Azriel’s plate.

Everyone’s pasta glistened with a rich cheesy sauce and a luscious fried egg, where as Azriel’s pasta was decidedly more…orange.

Elain glanced at the plate innocently and shrugged,

“Oh, I ran out of cacio. And pepe. And pasta. And eggs,” she popped a piece of cheese in her mouth, while Ruhn was shaking with laughter across from her. “I found this in the cupboard. I believe it’s Kraft mac n’ cheese.”

Azriel remained completely calm and smacked his lips, squaring his shoulders in front of the orange mess on his plate, while Fenrys cut into the egg yolk and it flowed sensually over the spaghetti.

“Well, buon appetito, family!” Azriel raised his glass to them and then tucked his spoon in the quickly congealing slop. “Oh and Elain, thank you for cooking. It looks very appetising.”

He tasted the sweet-bitter-sour creature on his spoon, shuddering a bit, yet smiling gleefully.

“And this is for you,” he passed a phone across the table to her.

Elain knew what he was doing–guilting her for giving him Kraft macaroni, while feeding the rest of them a nice meal. Here was her phone, as promised.

Yet, she only shrugged and took it from him.

“Did you put a tracker in it?” she asked.

“I certainly did,” he smiled savagely.

Yes, Azriel felt that he was persona non grata for the rest of the evening, even as they wound down, went outside to sit by the pool with various libations.

Naturally, Fenrys challenged Elain to a swim-off and after a bit of whining on her part, she raised her arms, and he stepped entirely too close to her, and removed her top, tossing it on the ground. There was something hypnotically sensual about watching him work on a woman’s body, and undress her so languidly, yet so ably. Not a move out of place. A kiss on the shoulder. A peck on the lips. A swipe of his hand down her back. A cup of her bum. All harmonious and perfected, like a sexual symphony. Her bra was next. Then her leggings, along with the undies. Within a few minutes, she was completely naked.

Ruhn’s brilliantly blue eyes hooded as he watched her slender, tempting curves, as she slid into the pool.

“She is fucking sexy,” he groaned under his breath, swirling his drink in his glass.

“That she is,” Azriel agreed. They were lounging side by side, sprawled in their chaises.

He rubbed his chin, watching Elain wrapped around Fenrys’s absurdly muscular form, his arms caging her softness next to him, each bicep almost as big as her head. The two of them paid no heed to the other two men, Elain lost in Fen’s kisses, as the two of them floated on the surface, tangled together.

“Ruhn,” Azriel said thoughtfully, “I want you to teach her how to fight.”

Ruhn wasn’t outwardly surprised by the request, but he looked at his brother, clarifying,

“You run hot and cold with her, Az. What do you want to do?”

After a long pause, the answer was,

“I want to make her happy,” Azriel sighed.

Ruhn nodded.

“I know I can’t control her,” Azriel extended his hand and Ruhn knew what he was asking, and offered him a cigarette. Azriel popped it in his mouth and inhaled deeply.

He’d quit a few years back, but…not entirely.

“And if push comes to shove, I’d rather she be prepared and have some skills.”

“I get you,” Ruhn agreed. “I was going to suggest it myself…once you simmered down,”

“Oh fuck off. Like you approve of him taking her on a job.”

“It’s not about that. It’s about knowing that we can only offer her the skills to take care of herself. Some of our women were too reliant on others and their protection, and we all paid the price.”

Azriel knew that Ruhn was referring to Mor. But that was a conversation for another time.

When Elain finally climbed out of the pool, her teeth were chattering and she squealed, wrapping herself in a towel.

Ruhn had gone inside, but Azriel still remained, and as she sprinted towards the house, he caught her hand and stopped her.

“Sleep with me tonight?” he asked quietly, near begging.

“No,” she shook her head and left him.

Special thanks to @sakurakittypeach for coming up with Cassian’s last name and to @123moiaussi for the fun fact of octopus penis

It takes a village to write this!

#the kings wife #chapter 6 #Clean Up On Aisle Seven #Elriel #elriel fanfic #dark mafia romance #reverse harem #tog and acotar and hosab #acotar #my fanfiction #my writing #elriel fanfiction #elain and azriel #elain and ruhn #elain and fenrys #fenrys moonbeam #ruhn danaan

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meliia · 2 years

Text

Throne Of Glass **WITH BIG SPOILERS**

i have just finished Kingdon Of Ash and i am DEPRESSED. i have become so attached to this series that now im sad i cannot continue on with these characters.

the final book had me sobbing not stop in its final moments. even though i knew The Thirteen were going to do The Yielding i did not expect them to do it in the way they did, but im especially happy that Asterin was the one to finally end Mother Blackbeak.

but Sarah, I NEED A MANON AND DORIAN BOOK. i just want to see Manon (and Abraxos) heal from her loss and finally find peace with Dorian by her side.

i adore Aelin as a main character mainly because she reminds me so much of Villanelle from Killing Eve. her and Rowans relationship made me also emotional seeing most the things they did were things she corrected from her time with Sam. like with the soap, she never let Sam use her expensive soap but its the first thing she gives Rowan.

the graveyard scene where Rowan put the stone on Sams grave as a thank you was an attack from Sarah herself.

going into this i had never even heard of Erawan, even from the things about the series i already knew, i just always thought Maeve was the main villain, and in a way she was. Sarah did an excellent job with Maeves character because there were so many times in the final book where i question if she really was the bad guy. i believe she really did want to save Erilea and she had good intentions but after some time she started to lose her grasp on what she truly stood for and started to see alternative ways to get what she wanted, even if that made her the villain. there was a moment where i thought maybe she was going to turn good with Dorian but then i realized that damn this entire time i was being manipulated.

YRENE KILLING ERAWAN?! DIDNT SEE THAT COMING

this is completely all over the place but so this isnt massively long here are some short thoughts:

- Lysandra and Aedion are cute

-will never forgive Gavriels death

-Lorcan i warmed up to you

- Chaol your book was so boring mainly because i dont like you but i love your wife so i stuck through it

- seeing all the character from The Assassins Blade pop up made my heart soar

- Manon, Elide and Abraxos are the best charcters and i will die on that hill

- Nesryn loved you, you were fun. have fun being empress and shout out to the rukkins and Sartaq

-Manon and Elides friendship gave me butterflies

- hey Feyre nice to see you pop up, btw your child will kill you when you give birth to it, be better to Nesta

- Rysand cool to see you, thanks for slowing Aelin down but could you tell your wife that her life and the baby's life is in danger, thank you

- that fight between Manon and Aelin will always be one of the best

-Dorian finding some sort of peace with his father (also him being named after his father :') ) im happy for him but another reason i need a him and Manon book is because wtf happened with his mother and brother, do they just chill in a mountain now?

-Fenrys im glad you got your justice in killing Maeve

-every time the Thirteen showed up i lost my shit. big rest in peace i hope Asterin is with her man and baby again.

-kinda wish the guys from Mistward were at Aelins coronation

- RIP Sam hope you beat the shit out of Arobynn in the Afterworld

- Rip Elena, you kinda deserved it but not in that way

- REST IN PEACE NEHEMIA I WILL FOREVER LOVE YOU

- another example that we need a Manorian book is where the fuck did the Bluebloods Matron go?

-shout out Rolfe

- shout out Fleetfoot

my full thoughts from every book would take forever but here is my ranking (for now):

Kingdom Of Ash > Queen Of Shadows > Heir Of Fire > Empire Of Storms > Crown Of Midnight > Throne Of Glass > Assassins Blade > Tower Of Dawn

5/5

#throne of glass #rowaelin #manorian #elorcan #manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #booksbooksbooks #sarah j maas #aedion x lysandra #kingdom of ash #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #elide lochan #elide x lorcan #manon x elide #abraxos

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queentala · 3 years

Note

hii could you do a part two for the fenrys bedroom canons please <3

also could you write a enemies to lovers, fenrys x reader about them going on a mission together and finding out they are mates? :)

Hi! Of course I can write enemies to lovers because who doesn't love this trope?! And I'll probably write part two for Fen headcanons or nsfw alphabet for him in the future but at this moment I have sooo many stories already started and I need to finish them first because people are waiting so we'll see.

"Can you just fu@k off?!"

"No." 🙂

Fenrys x fem!reader

Summary: reader is Aelin's childhood best friend and helps her fight for her crown. Fenrys since the beginning of their acquaintance doesn't understand some of the reader's actions and they don't go along very well but those hateful words slowly turn into something more.

This story also has a lot of Aelin and reader’s friendship in it and probably some unnecessary scenes but I just felt like writing them but you can skip those parts.

Warnings: a lot of spoilers to EOS and KOA, a lot of time jumping, some swearing and violence

Words: a lot - I had to learn for my biology test so I decided to write 3650 words long slow-burn :)

Continuation to this fic: Wounded puppy

ENJOY KIDS <3

Since the day one you and Aelin were inseparable. The storm and the fire. You were born the same year on the court of Terrasen. She was demi - Fae princess endowed with the power of fire, you - a noble Fae with powerful water and thunder magic. Every other child in Terrasen feared both of you (expect Aedion but it’s not about him) so quickly you found common ground swearing on every star that noting will ever tear you apart. Well... Maybe expect Adarlan’s army.

Thanks to quick reaction of your parents you managed to avoid death. Unfortunately your mom and dad didn’t. You were placed under Darrow’s care as he kept you hidden from the world. As you grew older he started seeing a big potential in you and a chance to overthrow Adarlan. Every living Fae was sentenced to death and what comes with it your identify had to stay unknown. And that’s how you started your spy training.

Never you dared to think that many years later sitting on one of Rifthold’s roofs under the cover of the night and watching the glass castle you would see your queen in one of the palace windows. Using your skills you got inside within few minutes. After years of separation you stand with your best friend, sister even face to face. Smiling with tears in your eyes both of you collapsed to the floor in each others arms.

And since that day you accompanied her every minute you could. When she was sent to Wendlyn you helped Aedion with the rebels, preparing the ground for your queen for when she comes to fight for her kingdom. You helped her destroy Arobynn, you were there when she was destroying the glass castle, you accompanied her on the meeting with trusted lords of Terrasen and later in Illium. And of course as befit a good friend you sat besides her when Rolfe opened door to his office, wicked smile playing on your face.

“I like this office far better than your other one, Rolfe”

“I have a distinct memory, Caleana Sardothien, of saying that if you set foot in my territory again, your life was forfeit” Rolfe let out a snarl and his blue eyes wandered to you. “And if I remember well I promised the same thing to you, Black Mamba”

You smile got wider as you heard your name, given by people that survived encounter with you. Name given after one of the most dangerous snakes in the world. The fastest, the most venomous, the most lethal.

“I missed you Rolfie” you said with innocent eyes. “Could an old friend not be able to visit you?”

“You never mentioned that you also got under Rolfe’s skin” Aelin looked at you with a glow in her eyes.

“It’s more like he got under mine. I just got my revenge” you shrugged.

“The friend of yours is really vindictive. I would be careful around her, Caleana” Rolfe’s face contorted with fury and spite. “Who knows when she will stab you in the back.”

Snarls from your and Aelin’s mouth came out at the same time. Your eyes wandered from Rolfe to the rest of people standing in the doorway. You found one of those incredibly handsome males staring at you with his onyx eyes narrowed, clearly vigilant, probably wondering if you are worth trust. You smirked at him, slightly reveling your fangs as you played with your dagger. Right then you knew this will be an interesting experience.

And it truly was. Fenrys didn’t trusted you and he wasn’t even hiding that. With Aelin he was friendly sarcastic, they were getting along pretty well and you had to admit you felt a little left out and forgotten but you did not let it show. While speaking with you he was cold. His arrogance and sarcasm, usually playful, towards you were... You didn’t even know how to describe it. He was disgusted? His words sometimes even hurtful, mocking.

When you were a teenager girl, you were hurt by more than one man. And when you grew older you promised to yourself that never again you’ll let a man disregard or overpower you. So you decided two can play this game.

***

“And what do you need all this mystery for, hm?" Fenrys asked, irritation written in his eyes. "How I am supposed to trust you if I don't even know your name. Am I supposed to call you Black Mamba the whole time? At least those people could think of better nickname for you, this one is lame."

You were listening to his whining since an hour as you both had a watch at the same time. Sound of waves in the sea was the only thing keeping you sane. Because of your powers you always felt safe around water, you were calm and happy. Usually... This time you barely could stop yourself from breaking this man's neck.

"I bet even if you knew my name you still wouldn't trust me" you snorted without even looking at the male sitting few meters from you.

"I don't trust snakes" his eyes fell on your left forearm where your tattoo was visible. Black snake wrapped around your wrist. Mark that made grown men tremble.

"You say you don't trust snakes yet you put so much venom into your words you could easily be one" you drawled out with so much hate in your voice that Fenrys only snorted in disbelief and stood up. "Be a good puppy and sit down. Your watch isn't over yet."

He didn't even turned to look at you as he disappeared below the deck of the ship. You rolled your eyes, annoyed to the limit. You bit your lip wondering for a second if you're gonna regret this but he would know anyways.

"Y/N" you said and even though he already walked away you knew he heard you.

You didn’t really cared about his friendship or appreciation but you had to admit his aversion towards you made you wonder if there’s something wrong with you. After all you haven’t done anything that could hurt his feelings or made him form a negative opinion about you.

“What’s wrong with him?” Aedion crouched down next to you, his blonde hair flowing in all directions because of wind, Ashryver eyes focused on the door through which Fenrys had disappeared.

“I don’t know. Dude acts as if I had killed his mother with a stick.” You looked up at your friend, for a long time he was the only person you could count on. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“Yeah, I have a list. It’s alphabetized” Aedion joked and both of you laughed. He looked into your eyes. “It’ll get better, I tell you.”

“Honestly, I don’t think so...” you breathed out and once again fixed your eyes on the horizon.

***

“I swear if I’ll hear one more word from you, my boot will be kissing your face!” you shouted not even trying to hide from others how annoyed you were with this little bitch.

You were on your way back from Stone Marshes. Everybody were exhausted, bruised and drained out of power. Additionally seeing hundreds of Melisande ships on horizon didn’t helped you. Turns out your best friend hid her plans even from you.

After unintentionally hurting Elide, Fenrys has been awfully quiet, still feeling horrible. You felt a little sorry for him but at the same time you thanked gods and hoped he’d stay like this for as long as possible. Well, gods never specially like you so...

You walked towards the deck trying to dry off your wet hair as you just finished washing yourself. Hundreds of Maeve’s ships hauled against the setting sun. The view made you sick. You fought in few battles that’s true but you were a spy, not a warrior. The very thought of the hell that was about to break loose in the morning made you feel faint.

“You sure you don’t want to take the boat and run off?” You heard Fenrys walking behind you. “War is not the right place for little girls.”

You didn’t even have the strength to answer him, you just kept walking towards Aelin and the rest with tired eyes and blank face. You just wished to know the plan for tomorrow and then go to sleep.

“Do you think Maeve would have go away if we had given her you instead of Aelin?”

You broke.

You stopped and turned so fast Fenrys didn’t even had time to react. Before he could even blink he fell on the wooden floor, groaning in pain he grabbed his nose. Red blood was dripping over his mouth and chin. The whole ship went quiet. Lorcan looked like a child that just got the best Yulemas gift, Gavriel stood shocked with his eyes wide open and Aelin just raised her brow and smirked. Fenrys looked up at you from the floor, his eyes filled with surprise and... regret. He stared at your blank face not daring to even move.

“I warned you” you said, your voice calm as ocean before storm. “I keep my promises. Do not play with me Fenrys.” Your words were harsh, making sure he will remember this moment. “Do not test my patience. You don’t want to experience the storm of my fury.” With those words you turned around and walked away, heading towards Aelin. Fenrys still haven’t moved, staring at your back. You knew something in him broke as well.

***

Just as you suspected, chaos reigned the next day. You managed to refill your magic a little bit through the night. You sank enemy ships one by one while your lightnings raged across the sky. And as the battle was drawing to a close, as hope filled you again, the events on the beach felt like being stabbed in the heart with a dagger.

You lost your best friend once again. You were on the verge of a breakdown. And when you found out Fenrys was taken as well you panicked like never before. You had no idea why but you feared for his life so much probably all Faes around you could smell it. Without excess thinking you agreed to go with Rowan, Gavriel, Elide and Lorcan to Wendlyn. Finding Aelin was a priority but you truly hoped you’ll be able to save this annoying asshole as well. All of your instincts literally begged you to find him.

Not a single day could be wasted. You were so determined that more than once your companions had troubles with keeping up with you. You spent most of the nights awake, wondering why all of sudden you care so much about him, does he truly hates you and what will happen after he will be free again. If he survives at all.

After months of searching you were able to look into those beautiful black eyes again. White wolf was lying in front of you, first time ever he looked at you without hate. His gaze was filled with sadness but as you stared at him back for a moment it was replaced with gratitude and softness. Softness that made your heart ache.

From the moment he shifted back into his Fae form your relationship had improved. You started talking normally. The two of you haven’t tried to kill one another so far and that was a big success. Few times Fenrys even gave you a faint smile what was bordering on a miracle. Everything was going perfectly until the day Aelin offered Lorcan the blood oath.

Fenrys was already angry when his former friend took it but he became even more furious when you didn’t.

“Guess I won’t change your mind?” Aelin asked as she turned to face you.

You offered her a sad smile and shook your head. “I’m sorry Aelin. I love you and I’m sure you will be great queen. I’m sure you will build the best court in the whole world” you took her hand. “But I cannot be part of it.” You discussed those issues with her before even the glass castle shattered. She understood you and for that you were thankful as never. “That doesn’t mean you will get rid of me though. Someone has to be able to kick your ass if you start messing around too much.” Aelin erupted with laugh. True laugh that made your heart grow.

Fenrys wasn’t as joyful.

You were preparing yourself to sleep when Fenrys found you.

“Why?!” he took you by the arm and turned to face him. “Why you refused to take the blood oath?” You flinched under his touch and he immediately pulled his hand back.

“It’s not your business Fenrys. It’s only between me and Aelin.”

“No it’s not!” he crossed his muscular arms. “You are best friends since you were children. You risked your life to find Aelin but you don’t want to promise your loyalty to her. I don’t understand you.” You opened your mouth to answer him but he clearly hasn’t finished. “Maybe Rolfe was right that day. Maybe you should not be trusted.”

“Watch your words unless you want your nose broken once again” you shoot him a warning look but he didn’t really cared. “You know what? Actually I thought you would understand me the best. You know how does it feel to take an unwanted oath. You tried to fought it since the moment you took it but you are angry that I don’t want to bind myself to Aelin... I am the one who don’t understand YOU, Fenrys.”

“I knew Maeve is evil since the very beginning. That’s why I didn’t wanted to serve her. But Aelin is not Maeve”

“But the blood oath is still a blood oath” you looked him in the eyes. “I couldn’t stand the thought of someone having control over my life. I can’t even imagine someone being able to control my every move regardless my will.”

“Aelin would never do that and you now it!” The male standing in front of you looked offended as if you were talking about him.

“She wouldn’t but she could if she wanted and that’s enough. I just can’t...” the last words were literally choked out. Feeling tears forming in your eyes you turned around and left. He didn’t followed you.

Next weeks were silent not only between you two but between Elide and Lorcan as well. Having nothing better to do on the ship, you started training with Lorcan as you saw a perfect opportunity to improve your *already good* skills. Fenrys of course took it personally and you were back again on unfriendly relation. And you had to admit how much you hated it. Especially when it was going so well. This strange thing that pulled you towards him didn’t helped either. You wanted to be next to him as much as possible but Fenrys avoided you all the time.

“Y/N?” Aelin’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up at your friend. “I want you do something for me.”

“Yeah, sure” you nodded. “Whatever you need.”

***

The owner of the inn you were staying at had no idea how the war in Terrasen and the rest of Eirela was going. After weeks spent on the ship Aelin couldn’t stay still and asked you and Fenrys to gather as much information as possible.

You both decided you would go check north, Fenrys went west. After four days you were supposed to meet in a village where you split up the second day.

Your paws traded silently on the grass as you emerged among the bushes. Fenrys was already waiting for you, sitting against old fence and eating red apple. He lifted it to his mouth but stopped midway as he noticed your presence.

“I had no idea your animal form is black panther” he looked kinda surprised. Golden light glowed around you as you shifted to your normal form and sat beside him.

“And what did you thought it was?” you asked as he took out another apple from his bag and passed it to you.

“Honestly I forgot you have an animal form” Fenrys looked at you with a sad smile.

“Well, I weren’t able to use it for over ten years so sometimes I forget it too.” you bit into sweet apple, its juice dripping down your chin. “I rarely shift... Or use my magic in general.”

“I think I also forget that you’re only 20 years old. It’s weird for Fae to be so young...” he joked and you smiled.

“Probably I’m little baby in your eyes”

“No. Not really...” his voice was quieter now. “In my eyes you’re a young warrior who didn’t gave up even when the world took everything from her. You were just 8 and you already had to fight for your life. I look up to you” he smiled gently. “Connall and me depended on our parents till our thirties and you... You’re so smart and brave, incredibly sly and loyal. And I’m sorry for all those awful things I said.”

“You know, I always saw you as a really good person.” You looked into his eyes. You wanted him to know that you mean it. “You scarified your freedom for your brother and bear all those shit only for him. And I realized I never truly thanked you for being the reason Aelin survived all those tortures.” It was time to open up in front of him. Now or never. If this talk won’t work out, nothing will. “You always seemed so funny and charming and when you talked to Aelin and ignored me I felt so left over and jealous even...”

“I was jealous of Lorcan...” he admitted and you laughed

“I know. You made it quite obvious.”

“And of Aedion... And sometimes even Gavriel and Rowan. Or any man that talked to you in general” he shoot you apologetic look.

“When...” you breathed out wondering if you’re gonna regret this. “When they told me Maeve took Aelin I had no idea what to do, but when I realized she also took you... I don’t remember ever panicking so bad. It felt like each of my instincts begged me to find you.” You turned your head towards Fenrys and found him already staring at you, listening carefully to each word falling out of your mouth. “There were moments where it seemed like I could feel your pain and your fear and I started wondering...”

“If I am your mate?” You nodded. Fenrys took your hand gently in his big one. “When I first saw you in Rolfe’s office something told me to watch you. I had no idea if it was in good way or bad way but I felt like something was pulling me towards you.” His thumb was gently caressing your palm, his eyes fixed on yours entwined hands. “When you broke my nose...” he smiled at the memory “I wanted to stand up and kick your ass but since then the mere thought of hurting you made my blood boil and I just couldn’t move. As if I would want to protect you from me. That’s when I started suspecting something”

“Well if we both had suspicions why the bond hasn’t clicked yet?” you wondered leaning slightly towards the male.

“Sometimes it needs a stronger impulse.” He shifted his gaze from your hands to your face. “It might be a kiss or life-threatening situation or... sex” he smiled wickedly. “Who knows?” both of you erupted with laughter.

“So let’s provide this bond this stronger impulse...” you leaned in so your forehead was touching his.

“Do you want me to find an inn and book us a room for a night or...” the glow in his eyes let you know what he exactly meant and you punched him in his arm.

“Fenrys... I won’t go to bed with you yet.” You didn't wanted to refuse him anything but your past just didn’t let you do it now. “Someday yes, but not yet.” You pulled away slightly to look into his eyes. Eyes full of softness and adoration. “But we can start with kisses” you smiled at him gently. “And after this war you can take me on a date so we can start everything once again. And then... we'll see.”

“Take as much time as you need Y/N. I will wait” he pulled his hand up to your cheek. “But not for a kiss.”

Fenrys closed the distance left between you two and pushed his lips onto yours. He kissed softly, lovingly. The kiss that made you forget you’re in the middle of a war. That world might end soon. You didn’t cared. Not when you felt a new path create in your soul. A path that lead to his heart, his soul, to him.

Fenrys pulled off gently, both of you smiling like idiots. “There you are.”

“What will Aelin say when she’ll find out? We go on a mission not even talking to each other and come back as mates... She will never stop mocking us about that” you laughed. Fenrys only pulled you closer to his chest looking down at you. His hand still gently holding your face.

“To hell with all of them.” He kissed you once again. “And if they cross the line you can always use your boot in the face technique to shut them.”

#fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys moonbeam x reader #tog x reader #tog imagines #tog #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #gavriel #lorcan salvaterre #SJM #sarah j maas #throne of glass #acotar #crescent city #elide lochan

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hisfavoritewolf · 3 years

Text

Who Could Win A Rabbit

Based on this post bc I never thought to write about that in-between! Thank you @loquaciousquark for the inspiration <3

No warnings, only fluff here!~ Only under a cut bc it got long!

Fenris held his breath as he slipped silently into the barn. Not even the animals stirred at his entrance, and he was grateful for it. Now, if only he could stop shivering. The storm was still raging outside, enough that he was surprised the animals weren’t awake with alarm. Perhaps they were used to it.

He found the darkest uninhabited corner in the barn and carefully removed his sheathe. He didn’t dare place it out of reach, instead opting to lay it across his lap. He doubted he’d truly sleep, but he could close his eyes... At least for a little while.

One particularly close flash of lightning sent a jolt through him, and panic rushed to meet him as several of the mules began their braying. Of course. Had his luck always been so rotten? Would it continue to be for as long as he’d live?

He pressed himself further back into the corner as he heard footsteps- even through the noise of the rain and thunder. He’d certainly be caught and likely chased off of the property. If only he could explain that he wasn’t a horse thief. Did this barn even have horses? He didn’t see any stables...

A voice rang out through the barn. “It’s alright, I’m here! Lucky- calm down, will you?”

Fenris caught a glimpse of glowstone and cringed, but his grip on the hilt of his blade faltered. They sounded so young. He’d rather not scare them, his intent was not to harm or intimidate. Still, he could hear them getting closer.

“Is something else wrong..? Thunder don’t usually get you this bad...” They murmured to their friend, and turned to see the second problem of their night. An elf huddled in a corner with a rather large blade in hand.

The moment they locked eyes, everything seemed to stop. He felt his heart drop. He was freezing, since he was lacking any cloak to shield him from the rain, and he was exhausted. Still, he forced himself to stand. He did not brandish his sword, he didn’t look them in the eyes. He simply cleared his throat.

“I apologize... I should not have-”

“What kind of moron doesn’t have a cloak?” They interject, looking more confused than anything.

“What?”

They pointed to him in his entirety. “Yer not wearin’ nothin that could help you out there. Aren’t you freezing?”

When he didn’t answer, their confusion only grew. “Stay here, I’ll be right back. Oh, and don’t mind Lucky, he’s a bit prissy.”

Before he could try to stop them, they had left. He looked to the mule as if it could answer the questions beginning to pile up in his head. Why weren’t they angry? Being caught in a barn had happened before, but this person didn’t seem alarmed at all.

It didn’t seem long at all before the stranger was back, and carrying a few items. A large blanket, slightly damp from running in the rain, and a bowl. This night was getting more perplexing by the minute, it seemed. They huffed out a labored breath and made their way across the barn. He stepped back into his corner, eyes wide and full of confusion.

“It’s just soup, dummy.”

He stared.

“Well, a blanket, too, but soup!” They grin, sitting down and holding out the items. He sat back down as well, setting his weapon to the side without thinking much about it. Too distracted. He just kept staring at the kind offerings.

“Are you certain..?” He finally said.

“What? About the soup? Well, it probably isn’t very good, but it’s something to eat, yeah?” They push the soup across the dusty floor, still smiling.

He looked between the stranger and the offering before gently taking the blanket and wrapping it around himself. He still wasn’t too certain about the soup. That seemed to strike his host.

“So.. Uh... I’m Rowan. This is me mum’s farm. You’re definitely not from here.”

He shook his head, finally deciding to take the soup. When was the last time he’d eaten..?

Rowan cleared their throat. “Where, uh... where are you from?”

“... Far.”

“... Alright. Where are you headed?”

“Farther.”

Rowan huffed, crossing their arms. “Well, gee, you’re cheery...” They look him over, curiosity glimmering in their eyes like the glowlamp beside them. It’s likely they’ve never seen anything quite like him before. Some part of him can’t blame them, but it’s still uncomfortable.

“Do you... Have a name?” It would be an odd question if he didn’t know so many slaves without them.

“Fenris.” He muttered between sips of his soup.

“Like a wolf?”

He frowned, set the soup down, and drew the blanket closer. “Yes.”

They chuckled. “That’s funny, actually!”

That’s new. “Why?”

“Well, mum said we’d be needing to find someone to hunt some wolves nearby. I told her it wouldn’t be a problem, but here you are! A wolf right in our barn!” They laughed, and Fenris’ confusion only grew.

“It is... Just a name,” He muttered. “I am no wolf.”

Rowan blinked. “Wow, you’re a very serious man.”

Silence fell. Fenris was used to being watched, but it felt so much different now that he was free. Not to mention, being watched while you’re eating was a different feeling altogether. It felt so vulnerable.

“Hey, I have an idea!” That made him jump. “You’ve got that big sword, why don’t you hunt those wolves? My mum could pay you, and then you’d have enough coin to buy yourself a cloak! And maybe a place to stay the night that isn’t an old barn.”

That was an interesting idea. Could he? As far as his abilities went, he was certain he could hunt wolves. Not a particularly fun way to spend a day, but if it would get him some coin...

“May I... Think about it?”

“‘May you’? Well, yeah, You don’t have to if you don’t want to... It was just an idea.” Rowan tilted their head, surveying him further. All he wanted was for them to stop staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. They were only curious, right?

“I, uh... I guess I’ll let you rest, and I’ll check in with you in the morning? And if yer not here, then...” They shrug, standing up and dusting off their cloak. He could already hear the storm dimming outside. “Well, then it was nice to meet you, Ser!”

They left in a hurry. Maybe he was making them just as uncomfortable. He couldn’t blame them. He likely looked like an assassin, perhaps even a wild animal trapped in a cage. Still...

Ser.

That was the first time anyone had said anything like that to him, to his memory. He spent the remainder of his night pondering that, among plenty of other things, until he finished his soup and the exhaustion finally overcame him.

Fenris awoke with a start as the barn doors opened and streaks of morning light swept through the room. It was Rowan again, but they weren’t alone. He staggered to his feet, nearly knocking over the empty bowl, and almost drew his dagger. He decided instead to draw the blanket tighter around him.

A tall woman carrying a pail stood next to the young child, squinting suspiciously at him. He tried to stand tall, but felt absolutely dwarfed in her presence. There was no further back for him to step as she approached.

“I hear you met little Rowan last night, that they told you ‘bout our wolf issue...?”

He nodded shortly. She hummed, looking down to Rowan at her side, then she sighed. “One of these days you’re going to get yourself into trouble, going and doing things like that.”

“He was shivering!” Rowan protested. The woman just laughed and patted their head.

“Yeah, yeah,” She looked back to Fenris. “So? Can you do it?”

He blinked, looking between the two. He’d thought about it for some time, but didn’t recall ever coming to a conclusion. Now, faced with the question again, he’s at least a little quicker with his response.

“Yes I can,” He nodded, locking eyes with the woman. “I would like to repay your kindness.” He glanced to Rowan, who grinned.

“Good,” The woman nodded. “Though I’ll be paying you in more than simply kindness. You can have the furs and what coin I can spare. Sound like a fair deal?”

Fenris doubted he’d find a better one. It seemed far more than generous. He nodded. “Yes, just tell me where they are and I will take care of them.”

“I think that’s the longest sentence you’ve said!” Rowan chimed in, laughing.

“Not a man of many words? Just as well, means you’ve got focus. I’m pretty sure the wolves have been coming from the south, not far from the border of the farm.”

As she spoke, Fenris shrugged the blanket off his shoulders and slung his weapon across his back once more. He adjusted to the weight of it, taking deep breaths and a moment to focus. The mother seemed surprised.

“Well, now you look like someone who can take on a pack of wolves! Maker, you looked like a drowned rat before. I was worried Rowan was pulling a prank or somethin’!” She laughed. “Well, if that’s not the case, let me introduce myself. The name’s Ori.”

She extended a hand and Fenris jumped, causing a moment of pause between all three in the room. After a moment further of hesitation, he reached out and took her hand with a firm grip. He tried not to make his cringing seem too obvious.

“My name is Fenris.”

“A wolf who hunts wolves, so you really weren’t kidding around.” She nudged Rowan with her elbow and let her hand fall back to rest on her hip. “Good luck, Fenris. Try not to die. There should only be three of them. If you can carry them all to the farmhouse when you’re done, it’d be appreciated.”

As simple as that, they started off on their own tasks. Fenris knew what he was meant to do, and he was going to do it for himself.

—

Killing the wolves was easy. Killing was something he was good at. He was strong enough to haul all three back to the farmhouse, as well. Ori idly explained that she’d be selling the meat to the butcher, and that he could sell the fur to the tailor after cleaning it.

“I’m impressed, really. A skinny little elf turns up in my barn in the middle of a storm just as I’d intended to hire a hunter? Sounds like the Maker blessed us both.” She smiled, a genuine softness about her despite the fact that she was elbows-deep in the guts of a dead wolf.

As Fenris was sipping from the cup of water she’d given him, she stopped. The look on her face grew solemn, and she glanced up at him.

“You were a slave, weren’t you?” It wasn’t a question. It took him a moment to respond.

“Yes. I am not anymore.”

“Good,” She grunted. “Slavers are a disgusting lot. Glad you could be rid of them. But I’ll bet you they’ll be lookin’ for ya. Am I right?”

He nodded, though he didn’t feel ashamed. He felt something stronger than shame. Perhaps anger. Rage at the life they had stolen from him, from all the horrible time spent serving his master’s whims.

“Well, then, I truly hope you can find some peace.” Ori sighed, wiping her brow on the sleeve of her shirt.

Fenris took a breath and finished what was left of the water, then set the cup down nearby. The deed of skinning and gutting the animals didn’t take much longer than expected, and they spoke no more during that time. He felt there was nothing more to say, and he was grateful she didn’t decide to pry.

“Andraste guide you, Fenris,” Ori said as he left. “It’s the least anyone could do for you.”

The walk to town wasn’t terribly far, though he felt he was lucky that the tailor’s shop had a sign with an image etched onto it along with the writing. The exchange of words and coin was short, but he felt as though a weight was finally lifted off of him as he left. Everything was different.

He walked to the inn with a new sense of pride, bought himself a fresh meal from the kitchen —rabbit stew—, and a room to sleep in that night. It was all such a strange rush of emotion, one he doubted he’d ever get used to. Even if it was by pure luck he found that farm, the rest was his doing. He could have run, but he didn’t.

For the first time in his life, he'd done something for himself. He earned his own coin, his own food. No quietly sneaking through, stealing what he needed. No guilt, no shame. Only honest coin for honest work. His work.

Perhaps he should be thankful for that storm.

#Tales Spun ; One Shot

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wizardofrozz · 3 years

Text

The Perfect Pair

Warnings: swearing, violence, angst, blood

Pairing: Loki x OFC

A/N: I hope anyone reading this story is enjoying it so far! I also wanted to mention how grateful I am for the number of followers I have. You’re all wonderful and I appreciate every one of you! ❤ I didn’t even realize that I’m almost to 150 and it may not sound like a lot but it means the world to me 😘. I would love to hear from you guys more or about any ideas but more importantly I want to say thank you and you’re all amazing!

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Chapter 14: Goddess of Death

I stood behind Loki at the door of the ship, closing my eyes as the wind whipped against my face. The ship steadily crept closer to the bridge, still concealed by the thick cloud of fog rolling in; I could faintly see Asgardians fighting off the rotting soldiers. I chanced a look at Loki, a smile pulling at my lips; his battle helmet twinkled softly when any light hit it. “Your savior is here!” Loki yelled, his arms outstretched, grinning like an idiot. I shook my head, fighting off a laugh as the ship broke through the fog, jolting to a stop next to the bridge. The ramp extended to the pulsing bridge filled with Asgardians; Loki and I walked off the ship towards the frightened group. “Did you miss me?” Loki smirks, pushing into the crowd. “Everybody on the ship, now.” Asgardians start pouring onto the ship without another word, rebels attempting to direct them as they made their way up the ramp. Loki and I caught sight of Heimdall near the front of the group and quickly made our way to him. “Welcome home, you two. I saw you coming,” Heimdall smirks briefly. “Of course you did,” Loki sighs. “Let’s go,” I said, taking a step towards the hordes of Berserkers. A smile crept onto my face as a long sword materialized in my hand, reminding me of my days fighting for Asgard all those years ago. We push forward together, slashing through Hela’s army with ease. To my surprise, I notice how easily Loki and I moved around each other, having never fought side by side like this. I ducked as Loki slashed through a Berserker over my head; sliding around Loki, I sliced the knees of another minion out as I stood straight again, pressing my back against Loki’s. Our movements like a dance, dipping and spinning together in sync until we cleared the immediate area. I stood with my back to Loki, I felt the horns of his helmet brushing against my shoulder. I glancing behind me, finding him kneeling, breathing deeply. “How did we just do that?” Loki laughed, climbing to his feet. “We definitely could’ve killed each other on accident,” I laughed, taking my place at his side to continue forward. “Oh yeah, one wrong move, and I’d have impaled you,” Loki agreed, laughing. My gaze shifted towards the sky, noticing the darkening clouds steadily moving over the castle. “Loki,” I muttered, my hand shaking as I pointed at the sky. “Oh boy,” Loki mumbled. As the seconds passed, I could feel the electricity already crackling in the air intensifying; I noticed the faint funneling of electricity moving towards the outline of figures standing on a castle balcony overlooking the rainbow bridge. Come on, Thor. I stood next to Loki, tense, as I watched the billowing clouds grow darker, twisting and swirling angrily above the balcony. It was so quick and so intense, my brain couldn’t process anything other than the world-shattering lightning bolt exploding from the sky; a limp body was thrown from the castle, disappearing into the water below with a painful crack. I dared to look at Loki, my heart soaring when I saw the proud smile lighting up his face. The blinding light descending on the Bifrost bridge pulled my attention from Loki; my eyes widen when my gaze fell on the God of Thunder, wrapped in pulsing electricity, exuding power as he gracefully landed on the other end of the bridge. “Let’s go,” I managed, urging Loki forward as another hoard of Berserkers ran at us. Loki and I fell into an easy rhythm again, bobbing and weaving around each other, tearing through Hela’s minions with ease. I glanced towards the ship again, catching a glimpse of Heimdall ushering people forward; a glint of silver crossed my vision from behind the group, but the roaring below the bridge yanked my attention away. The mixed roars from Hulk and Hela’s beast, Fenris, assaulted my ears; the urge to cover them was almost too intense, but the sight of more Berserkers forced me to push on. Mercilessly slashing through Hela’s forces, we managed to help thin out the army, eventually meeting Thor halfway. I sliced through the neck of the last minion, watching its head roll away, panting; panic slammed into me when I realized Loki wasn’t standing behind me. “You’re late,” I faintly heard Thor say. I turned around, breathing a sigh of relief when my eyes landed on the dark cloak rippling softly next to Thor. “You’re missing an eye,” Loki’s faint voice soothed the worry prickling my skin. I jogged towards the brothers, panting heavily when I reached them, raising a brow at Thor’s scorched eye socket; the longer I looked, the harder it was to contain the grimace and shutter. Before I could stare at Thor’s missing eye any longer, a sharp whistle from somewhere behind me pulled my attention away. Relief washed over me when Bea walked into my line of sight, approaching slowly. A wave of nostalgia washed over me when I recognized the storm cloud shade of gray she was wearing; her Valkyrie armor reminded me just how amazing my friend is. I watched her trudge closer, limping slightly, pressing a hand to a cut on her arm. Now that the immediate attack had slowed, I started to feel the fatigue creeping in; the intensifying sting of cuts all over, the ache of muscles I didn’t know I had, and bruises forming, weighed heavily on me. My heart ached when I looked at Loki, noticing the same looking crossing his face as his body started to sting, burn, and protest. Thor was the only one that seemed to be faring better than the rest of us, and I had to refrain from cussing him out. “This isn’t over,” Bea huffed, faintly nodding towards the end of the bridge. Hela was strutting down the bridge towards us and, more importantly, towards the ship full of innocent Asgardians. I knew I should be scared or worried as she got closer, a devilish smile on her lips, but I could only manage the intense rush of irritation towards the Goddess of Death. “Fuck me, can’t she just give up,” I groaned, letting my head drop. “I think we should disband the Revengers,” Thor grunted, his eyes never leaving his sister. “Hit her with a lightning blast,” Loki offered feebly. “I just hit her with the biggest lightning blast in the history of lightning. It did nothing,” Thor panted, sounding desperate and angry. “We need to hold her off until everybody’s on board,” Bea reminded, glancing at the ship. “Heimdall’s trying to get them moving faster, but the ramps only so big,” I elaborated, dread seeping into my bones as I watched Hela continue her advance. I glanced at Thor, catching the pain look on his face as he watched the hoard of Asgardians filing onto the ship. “It won't end there. The longer Hela's on Asgard, the more powerful she grows. She'll hunt us down. We need to stop her here and now,” Thor ground out. “What’s our move?” Bea straightened her stance, wincing momentarily but rolled her shoulders, pushing through the pain. “Come on, Your Highness. What are you thinking?” I shuffled in place, shaking out the soreness, spinning my sword, preparing to fight again. “I’m not doing ‘get help,’” Loki deadpanned. Loki twisted his neck side to side, groaning at the faint popping before a full-body shiver ran through him. Thor didn’t seem to be listening, his attention flicking between Hela and the palace behind her; a few agonizing seconds passed before he finally spoke again. “Asgard’s not a place; it’s a people,” Thor mumbled, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. “This was never about stopping Ragnarok...it was about causing Ragnarok.” Thor spun on his heels, catching the rest of us off guard; Loki tensed when Thor’s gaze fell on him. “Go to the vault. Surtur’s crown. It’s the only way,” Thor ordered. “Bold move, brother. Even for me,” Loki noted, seeming almost impressed. Loki moved to walk away but stopped short, his hand gripping my upper arm tightly. “Be careful.” Loki hauled me forward, crashing his lips against mine in a bruising kiss that lasted only a few seconds. “You too,” I croaked, trying to smile at him. Loki shallowed thickly, squeezed my arm once more before taking off towards Grandmaster’s abandoned ship. “Shall we ladies?” Thor asserted. Bea and I turned at the same time, locking eyes, before nodding once, a small smile on her lips. “After you,” we chorused. Bea and I stood back, waiting to provide backup, as Thor surged forward, attacking Hela violently. Hela materialized a dangerous black sword, taking a swing at Thor with no luck. Thor pulled electricity out of thin air, landing blow after mighty blow, looking powerful and God-like. For a moment, I could swear I saw even more power building through their bodies; each attack was faster, stronger, more deadly as Asgard continued to feed them power. Bea and I jumped into action when Hela rammed a blade through Thor’s shoulder, quickly slipping around him towards the giant ship behind us. Hela blocked my swing, sending me sliding across the bridge as Bea descended on her; the hum of an engine approached, the droning noise passing under the bridge. This is madness. Loki’s thoughts suddenly bounced around my head, forcing an obscene laugh to burst from my lips. "Sorry," I mumbled when Bea shot a glare over her shoulder before blocking another hit from Hela, straining against the Goddess’s strength. I scrambled to my feet, noticing Thor joined the fight again, attacking Hela with inhuman force, yelling in frustration. My eyes widened, instincts kicking in just in time to knock the blade soaring towards the ship out of the air. I checked on the boarding progress only for my anxiety to spike when I realized Hela had been pushing us closer and closer to the ship. Heimdall and Korg, carrying another creature, scrambled up the ramp, leaving the once crowded bridge empty. Another blade flew towards me; I hissed when the edge sliced through the meat of my leg, knocking me off balance; Bea bounced off the bridge a few feet from me after being thrown. “GO! GO NOW!” Thor screamed desperately, dodging the spears cutting through the air. Bea and I wearily fought to get to our feet again, groaning in pain; Thor’s pained scream broke through the cloud of exhaustion hanging around my head. The ground beneath my feet rumbled as Hela lifted her arms, a splintering shard of something that reminded me of black tourmaline shot out of the water, piercing the platform of the ship. “No,” I croaked, stumbling towards Hela. She caught my sword mid-swing, smiling wickedly as a blade appeared in her hand. I pulled on the sword to no avail when the tip of a blue blade pierce through Hela’s chest, making her release my blade. “Not today, bitch,” Bea growled, using her foot to push Hela off her blade. My head snaps towards the ship at the eruption of gunfire; Skurge plowed through Berserkers like it was nothing, bringing a smile to my face. Hela advanced on him, leaving Bea, Thor, and I behind, panting heavily, watching the giant ship straining against the spike holding it in place. Skurge only made it a few steps before a black blade punctured his chest; I swallowed the surprised gasp threatening to burst out. Bea charged Hela again only to be backhanded away, skidding across the bridge; Hela stalked closer to Bea, who crawled towards her Dragonfang. With the Eternal Flame, you are reborn. “With the Eternal Flame, you are reborn,” I spoke allowed as I heard Loki’s thoughts push into my mind. Thor peered up at me, nodding before slowly getting to his feet, stopping on one knee to pull the spear from his shoulder. “Hela! Enough!” Thor shouted. Hela reluctantly turned, dropping Bea as she watched Thor set his sword on the Bifrost bridge. “You want Asgard? It’s yours,” Thor stated honestly. “Whatever game you're playing, it won't work. You can't defeat me,” Hela spat back, a smile forming on her face. Thor stood with his hands on his hips, his chest dramatically rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. “No…” Thor huffed, gesturing with his thumb towards the castle. “...but he can.” Surtur exploded through the castle, melting the metal with barely a touch, a wave of heat rushing across Asgard. “No, NO!” Hela screamed, rushing past me towards the castle. “Vi!” Bea shouted, getting to her feet. As she ran at me, I caught on, dropping to one knee and cupping my hands, pushing Bea higher into the air as she jumped. Bea slammed her Dragonfang through Hela’s chest, using her momentum to bury the blade into the bridge. I stumbled towards her, throwing Bea forward as Thor channels electricity through the blade, sending fissures through the bridge. Hela tumbled through the air, landing in the water below, assaulted by the falling debris on the way down. “Come on,” I groaned, teleporting myself to Bea’s side. Looping her arm over my shoulder, I helped her to her feet, squeezing her shoulder with a smile. “The people are safe. That’s all that matters,” Bea forced out, panting as she steadied on her feet. “We’re fulfilling the prophecy,” Thor mumbled, watching Surtur destroy the market. “I hate this prophecy,” I grunted, earning a laugh from Bea. “So do I, but we have no choice. Surtur destroys Asgard, and he destroys Hela so our people can live.” Thor takes a deep breath, a pained look settling on his face as the three of us watched our home be destroyed. “We need to help him finish-“ Thor broke off his eyes, following something in the sky. “No!” Hulk lands on Surtur’s face with such force he surprised Surtur, sending him stumbling back a step. “Hulk no! Stop it, you moron!” “Apparently, someone forgot to tell Hulk the plan,” I chuckled. Bea snorted, covering her mouth to hide the laughter when Thor shot us both a death glare. Hulk was thrown, bouncing a few times when he hit the bridge; ignoring his smoldering skin, Hulk tried to get to his feet again. “Hulk, just for once in your life, don't smash!” Thor bellowed. “But…big monster,” Hulk whined. “Hulk! Let’s go,” Bea called. Hulk looked back and forth between Surtur and us, deeply debating on what he should do. “Come on, big guy!” I yelled, smiling. “Friends,” Hulk hummed, pulling the three of us into a tight hug. Before I knew it, we were flying through the air towards the ship; I bit my tongue to avoid screaming in Bea’s face. We landed on the platform with a soft thud, my anxiety melting away; Hulk squeezed us one more time before releasing us. Thor stumbled into me, almost knocking me back off the ship, but somehow, he grabbed the back of my neck to pull me away from the door. “Thanks, killing your sister-in-law probably isn’t a good idea,” I jested, smiling up at Thor, who snorted around a laugh. “Loki would be pretty pissed,” he laughed, squeezing my neck before releasing me. As the adrenaline started to fade, panic set in instead; I frantically looked around, hoping to see the familiar black curls somewhere in the crowd. Loki, where are you? I reached for him, my heart pounding as the seconds flew by. My stomach was doing somersaults as I waited to hear Loki answer.

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Series Masterlist | Chapter 15

Taglist:

@criminalyetminimal @marvelfansworld

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pikapeppa · 4 years

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Fenris/Rynne Hawke: Disappointment

A (VERY late) prompt fill for @talesfromthefade, for @dadrunkwriting Friday!

Set during the later end of Act II. It’s basically a drunken conversation featuring some cuteness, but even more angst, pining, and UST. 😭

~6100 words (SORRY, MY PROMPT FILLS ARE LONG). Read on AO3 instead.

************************

Fenris was sitting at the table in his mansion and struggling with a copy of Hard in Hightown when he heard a knock at the door.

It was more of a bang than a knock, really, and the sound instantly put him on alert. Before he could reach for his sword, though, he heard the laughter.

His shoulders relaxed. Hawke, he thought ruefully, and he went to open the door.

Hawke tripped into his house with a giggle, followed closely by the scent of brandy. “Fenris!” she chirped. “I’m so glad you’re here, I was about to — hic — set up camp on your front step if you didn’t answer the door. Would you care for some wine?” She haphazardly waved a bottle of wine in his direction.

He hastily took the bottle before it could hit him in the face. “Er, thank you, but no. How much brandy have you had?”

She turned to him with wide eyes. “Brandy? Me? How did you know?”

“You smell like you were bathing in it,” he said dryly.

A beautiful grin lifted her lips. “Wouldn’t that be the dream? An entire — hic— bathtub filled with brandy, just for me. I could be persuaded to share with you, though.” She shot him a saucy wink, then began meandering toward the table. Her gait was loose and lazy with booze, yet somehow her hips were still moving with their customary alluring sway, and Fenris eyed her wistfully as he followed her to the table.

She gasped and petted the pages of his open book. “Ooh, were you reading?” she asked brightly.

He grunted and scratched the back of his head. “Trying to, in any case. It’s slow-going.”

She looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “Can I help you? I can help, if you like.”

He eyed her with a touch of exasperation and placed the wine on the table. “You’re hardly in a position to be assisting with this at the moment.”

“Oh please,” she scoffed. “I’m not that plastered. I’m only a tiny bit plastered. Look, I can absolutely help you with this.” She peered at the page. “Now if only the letters would stop moving all over the place.”

Fenris huffed and pulled out a chair for her. “Sit down, Hawke. You look as though you’re about to fall over.”

She sighed. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. Then she promptly plopped down on the floor and started pulling off her boots.

He shook his head, then sat in the chair he’d just pulled out. “What is the special occasion?”

She smiled blearily up at him. “Hm? Occasion?”

He gestured at her. “Is there a reason you’re this drunk?”

“Do I need a reason?” she said. “Maybe I’m just full of joie-de-vivre, as the Orlesians would say! But Orlesians would probably also spit on my taste in Rivaini brandy, so never mind that.”

Fenris frowned slightly. Her tone was as jocular as ever, but she wasn’t meeting his eye as she spoke. “Were you at the Hanged Man?” he asked.

“I was,” she said cheerfully. “Varric and Bels and I got into this fabulous darts tournament, and–”

She broke off suddenly and looked up at him in horror. “Oh fuck. Oh shit. Did you want to come? Oh Fenris, I’m sorry, I should have come to get you before going to the Hanged Man but I didn’t even think about it, I just went straight there, I’m sorry–”

He waved her off. “You went straight there from where?” he asked.

“From the Gallows,” she said, to his surprise. “I took Mother to visit Carver today, and–” She snorted. “Can I just say that it went swimmingly well? Swimmingly, splendidly well. It’s definitely something I’ll be doing again, perhaps in fifty years or so.” She broke off with a goofy giggle.

Ah, he thought. Now it made sense. Something unfortunate must have happened during her visit to the Gallows with her family.

“Did it truly go well?” he said quietly.

She finally met his eye, and for a brief second, her smile slipped before returning to her face. “It did!” she said. “Mother was happy to see him, even though he could just visit the house when he gets his leave days. Can you pass me that wine?”

Fenris hesitated. It was probably a bad idea for Hawke to have anything more to drink. But she was a grown woman who was free to make her own (possibly poor) decisions, and who was he to tell her what to do?

He reached across the table and picked up the bottle of wine. Then he came to join her on the floor. By the time he was settled beside on the floor, she was beaming at him with so much uninhibited fondness that it made his stomach twist.

He dropped her coppery gaze and pulled a small knife from his pocket, then pried the cork out of the bottle. But instead of offering it to her, he took three big gulps.

She laughed. “Fenris, you boozehound! I thought you didn’t want any.”

I don’t, really, he thought. But if he didn’t drink any of it, Hawke would drink the whole bottle by herself.

“I changed my mind,” he said, and he offered her the wine.

She beamed at him. “You beautiful thing, you. You’re joining in with me.” She took the bottle and took a long drink, then lowered it and gave him a quizzical look. “What were we talking about?”

“The Gallows,” he said. “Your mother.”

“Ah yes! Oh, Mother.” Rynne laughed and shook her head. “She said the funniest thing. There I was, talking to Carver and just, you know, needling him about the usual stuff. Asking about his love life, pointing out the irony of him becoming a Templar in the first place, the usual sort of thing. And my mother…” She snickered. “My mother jumps in and starts carrying on about how Carver was just trying to support the family while I went swanning off to the deep roads.” She snorted with laughter. “Can you believe that? ‘Swanning off to the deep roads’! Those are the words she used. As though—” She broke off with another giggle. “As though the deep roads are some fancy Orlesian spa that you and I and Varric and Anders just bloody decided to ‘go swanning off to’ for a few months.” She chuckled some more and lifted the bottle of wine to her lips, and Fenris watched with a pang as she took a few gulps.

When she lowered the bottle, he gently took it from her hand. “Did you set her straight?” he asked. “Remind her of the reason why we were gone so long?” Namely, that Bartrand had locked them in the ancient thaig, resulting in the need to wander even deeper into the cursed bowels of the thaig before finding a way out?

“Oh Maker, no,” Hawke said. “I never told her why we were gone that long.”

He lowered the bottle and stared at her in surprise. “You didn’t? Why not?”

Hawke snorted. “Are you kidding? She’d have a fit if she knew. She’d fuss and carry on about how dangerous it was and how she never wanted me to go in the first place, even though we needed the fucking money to get the fucking Amell estate back.” She broke off and took a deep breath, then smiled at Fenris and pointed at the wine. “Can I have some of that?”

He quickly took another big drink before handing her the bottle. She took a sip, then broke off with a snort of laughter. “She thought all this time that I swanned off for months. Can you believe that? The deep roads weren’t exactly a cake walk. D’you remember those rock wraith things that were eating the lyrium down there?”

Fenris sneered. “Ah yes. And that hunger demon.” He shot her a reproving look. “I still think it was unwise for you to offer it sandwiches.”

“And I still think it was worth a shot,” she retorted. Then she sighed and offered him the bottle. “Ah well, what’s done is done. It’s just…” She huffed in amusement and shook her head. “She wanted the fucking Amell estate, so I got it back for her. Next time she wants something, maybe I should just become a Templar too.”

Her cheeky smile was still in place, but she was too drunk for the smile to fully hide her true feelings. Fenris eyed her sympathetically, but he didn’t know what to say. He had no experience with providing any kind of comfort.

He took another sip of wine and wracked his brain for something to say. “I wasn’t aware that the Templars were accepting mages among their ranks,” he said finally. “Has Cullen found a soft spot for you that I didn’t know about?”

She grinned at him, and his heart fluttered; her smile was genuine and warm once more. “Oh Fenris, don’t be silly,” she said. “Cullen has had a soft spot for me all along. Don’t pretend you didn’t notice.”

“Hm,” he said. “I suppose all that scowling and telling you off could constitute a soft spot, according to some.”

“Exactly,” she giggled. She took another sip of wine, then gave him a pitiful look. “I know I’m barging in on you and all, but I wasn’t in the mood to go home just yet. Is it all right that I came here instead? Any safe port in a storm and all that.”

He frowned. Safe port in a storm? “Are you concerned that your mother will harm you when you return home?” he said quietly.

“No no, of course not!” she exclaimed. “It’s just a figure of speech.” She barked out a laugh. “My mother, harm anyone? Don’t be ridiculous. She couldn’t harm a wasp even if it was about to sting her.”

Fenris eyed her skeptically for a moment, then shrugged. “You can stay for a visit. I suppose it is only fair, since I…” He trailed off awkwardly. He was about to tell her that her house had become something of a safe space for him as well — a place where he felt at ease, almost at home, particularly when he and Hawke were lounging together in front of the fireplace in her study. But to admit such a thing would be veering far too close to telling her how much he still longed for her, and he didn’t dare let the conversation venture there.

It was surprising that he’d even said as much as he had, in fact. He usually did everything in his power to keep his tenderness for Hawke under wraps, for fear of letting her think there was a chance of them being together again. Why had he nearly said something now?

She offered him the bottle of wine; it was three-quarters empty. That explains it, he thought in resignation. With a small sigh, he took the bottle and drank from it once more.

Hawke stretched her legs out and leaned back on her palms. “So! What were you reading before I came bursting in to ruin your night?”

He lowered the bottle with a smirk. “You really couldn’t tell? You are that drunk?”

“I am quite spectacularly drunk, yes,” she agreed.

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were only… what was it you said? ‘A tiny bit plastered’?”

She snorted. “What is this, an interrogation in Aveline’s office?” She poked his arm. “Come on then, tell me. What were you reading up there?”

“Hard in Hightown,” he said. “Varric gave it to me. I am only on page ten or so.”

Hawke chuckled. “Of course that’s what Varric gave you to practice with. Any excuse to get more readers.” She suddenly straightened up and gasped, and Fenris recoiled slightly in surprise; her face was bright with enthusiasm.

“I just had the most fantastic idea!” she chirped. “You should write a book!”

He wrinkled his nose. “What would I write about? And besides, I can’t write.” He didn’t tell her that he’d been secretly writing terribly-spelled letters to her since the day he’d mastered the alphabet. That was one secret that even his half-drunken mouth would never spill.

She waved one hand dismissively. “You’ll be able to write in no time, you’re brilliant. And the book should be about your life, of course!”

He frowned. “My life? Why?”

“Because you’re strong and handsome and interesting. And you lived with the fog warriors!” she exclaimed. “You probably know more about them than anyone in the whole of Thedas!”

His frown deepened. “Reflecting on that time in my life is not exactly pleasant, Hawke. It did not end well, if you recall.”

She wilted. “No, I know, I just meant… oh fuck, I put my foot in it, didn’t I?” She nervously patted her cheeks. “Maker, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think about awful things. I was hoping to make you think of nice moments when you were with them since I know you liked living with them, but… ah, I’m an idiot. Don’t listen to me.” She reached for the bottle of wine.

He allowed her to take the bottle. “It’s all right. I already knew you were an idiot.”

She shot him a grateful smile. They passed the bottle back and forth for another minute, and when it was empty, Fenris placed it on the floor beside him.

“You’re not wrong. I did enjoy living with the fog warriors,” he said. “It was… unusual to spend time around people who were not afraid of me. But I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised; the fog warriors were the most courageous people I ever knew.” He draped his arms loosely around his knees and glanced at Hawke. “Even their children had no fear of me.”

She nodded and didn’t speak. Her expression was a picture of attentive focus despite the boozy flush of her cheeks, and something about her attention prompted him to go on when he usually would not.

“I remember the first time I stepped into their… settlement, for lack of a better word,” he said. “I was weak after healing from my injuries. Every step I took required a great deal of effort. But as I walked through their settlement with one of their healers at my side, a child approached me. A boy, perhaps five or six.” He grimaced. “Or maybe seven; I’m not familiar enough with children to guess their ages.”

“Five, seven, it’s all the same,” Hawke said softly. “The little boy approached you. What happened then?”

Fenris tilted his head as he remembered the moment. “He was holding a ball that looked to be made of dried branches and twine. He stopped and stared at me, and I was certain he was going to run away. Or perhaps throw the ball at me in disgust. I’ve suffered worse from children in Minrathous. But…” He slowly rubbed a hand through his hair. “He asked in Seheronese if I would play with him. The healer translated for me, and I… I didn’t believe her, and I didn’t believe the boy. I thought they were taunting me. I…” He swallowed hard. “I went back to the tent and didn’t come out again for another day. But the same boy approached me again when I emerged. He continued to approach me until I agreed.”

Hawke’s face lit up with a brilliant smile. “You played with the fog warriors’s children?”

He shrugged. “I had little choice. They are very persistent.” He gave her a tiny smile. “All of their people are persistent. Stubborn and determined. Or… they were, at least, before I…”

Blood. Screaming. Women and children fleeing, to no avail. The horrible images flashed through his mind, raw and undimmed by time, and Fenris dragged a hand through his hair as though that could pull the memories out.

The only time he had ever seen fear in the fog warriors’ faces was when he had put it there.

“Hey,” Hawke said softly. “I’m glad you were happy while you lived with them. I know it ended badly—”

“I killed them all,” he snapped. “It ended badly because of me.”

“I know,” she said. “I know you feel responsible. But I’m still glad you were happy there for a time.”

He stared hard at her for a moment, but her expression was calm and steady — surprisingly steady for someone who was so drunk.

He sighed and shifted his position on the floor. “I was happy with them; you’re right about that. The only time I could ever remember being happy, really. Before I came to Kirkwall, at least.”

Hawke perked up. “Before you came to Kirkwall? Does that mean you like living here more than being in Seheron?”

He huffed at her hopeful tone. “I don’t know that I would say that. But… this city has its charms. They may be few and far-between, but it does have them.”

“Like what?” she asked.

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Such as… that apple pie at that one particular stand in Hightown.”

Hawke nodded. “Oh yes, that pie is fantastic. What else?”

“The music at the Hanged Man isn’t completely terrible,” he said.

“I do love the music there, it’s true,” Hawke said brightly. “Anything else?”

She looked so hopeful. Fenris gave her a chiding look. “Why do I get the sense that you’re fishing for compliments?”

Her beautiful amber eyes grew wide – suspiciously wide. “Me? I never! I never ever fish for compliments. Particularly not from broody handsome elves with the sexiest voices I’ve ever heard.”

He scoffed and rubbed his mouth. “Kaffas, Hawke. You will make me blush.”

“I’m not talking about you,” she said. “I’m talking about some other elf.”

She clearly was not. Her smile was coy and warm, and it made his ears feel uncomfortably hot. “I see,” he said dryly. He absently rubbed the red scarf on his wrist and studied her from the corner of his eye. She was humming to herself now and gazing at her bare feet with the sort of vacant smile that made it clear how drunk she was.

Then he surprised himself by speaking again. “I suppose some of the people here are tolerable as well,” he said.

She perked up. “Oh really? Like who?”

Fenris shrugged and leaned back casually on one hand. “Sebastian is a fine man.”

Hawke snorted. “Perfect Sebastian. He doesn’t count. He makes everyone look bad. Who else?”

“Varric,” Fenris said. “He’s forgiven my gambling debts on more than one occasion.”

She let out a scintillating laugh. “Has he? Oh, Varric. He’s such a soft touch.”

Fenris smirked and gazed idly at her legs – lovely legs that were regrettably covered by trousers. Lovely legs with soft golden skin that was so smooth beneath his hands…

Before Fenris could stop himself, his drunken mouth was opening once more. “You are good company, as well,” he said.

Her face lit up with a slow and breathtaking smile. “Am I, now?”

He shrugged and ignored his suddenly thrumming heart. “You can be. When you aren’t aggravating me.”

She raised one hand innocently. “Those were all failed attempts at flirting, I swear.”

He gave her a chiding look. “That’s hardly a comfort, Hawke.”

“It should be,” she said. “I’m usually a very good flirt.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” he said wryly.

Her smile widened. “Maybe I should try harder, then.”

Her cheeky voice was ripe with its usual humour, but there was something more to her tone now: something husky and heated that made Fenris’s clever retort fade away on his tongue. He studied her face carefully, and his heart jolted; only now was he realizing how close she was. She was sitting right next to him, and although they weren’t touching, they were so close that they might as well have been. Her knees were almost brushing against his thigh, and she was leaning in as though to take shelter against his chest, and he… kaffas, his shoulder was curled toward her as though he wanted her to take shelter against him.

A rush of excitement filled his rib cage, followed by a surge of terror. I can’t, he thought. He couldn’t let her get any closer. Not because he didn’t want to; venhedis, there was nothing he wanted more. But the closer she got, the more she would see just how damaged he truly was, how unprepared he was for what she was trying to give, and he couldn’t… He couldn’t stand it. The thought of looking into her perfect amber eyes, of seeing their heat replaced with pity instead...

She wet her lips, and Fenris was instantly distracted by her mouth: her lush raspberry-red mouth that he vividly remembered kissing, even though it had been almost a year.

Then Hawke nibbled her lower lip, and Fenris could feel his own lips parting as though by instinct — as though the movement of her lips was a siren call, a lure drawing his own lips to react, to lean closer to her, to breathe in the wine-scented warmth of her breath…

He inhaled slowly, and his heart thudded in his ears. She smelled exactly as he remembered, of sandalwood and sweetness and a hint of sweat from dancing at the Hanged Man, and overlaid on it all was the scent of the wine she’d drunk — that they’d been drinking together.

Then Hawke’s hand rose slowly toward his face.

His breath stuttered, but his heart burst into a galloping race. Her fingers were reaching for him, reaching for his cheek, reaching so slowly that he knew she was giving him time to stop her. But he was frozen on the floor with Hawke sitting so close to him, so damned close that he could smell her intoxicating scent, and her fingers were drawing nearer still…

She stroked his cheek gently: so incredibly gently, with just the tips of her fingers. And with that one simple touch, the buzz of longing in his gut hit a fever pitch.

Fenris closed his eyes and turned his face toward her fingers, and her thumb brushed over his lower lip. He exhaled shakily, and he was distantly aware that his breath sounded far too much like a groan.

“Fenris,” Hawke breathed.

Fenris. That was all she said: just his name in her husky voice. But it was almost enough for him to come undone. His name in her voice, carried through the air on a breath of desire: fasta vass, it was too good, too evocative, too strong of a reminder of the past — of the mistake he’d callously made by going to her in a moment of anger-fuelled impulsiveness.

A mistake he was primed to repeat right now, in a moment of impulsiveness that was fuelled by alcohol instead.

He reached up and grabbed her wrist. “I can’t,” he rasped.

Her eyebrows tilted in a way that made his chest ache, but he forced himself to stay still, to not move, to not bridge the mere inches that separated his lips from hers. He held her wrist in a steady grip and stared steadily into her glittering amber eyes, and he forced himself to remember – to remember the way those same amber eyes had filled with tears when he’d walked away from her before.

The memories of their night together still tortured him, along with all the attendant reasons why he couldn't let this same mistake happen again. He was an empty shell whose history had been carved away and replaced with anger and hate, and nothing about that had changed in the year or so since he and Hawke had tumbled together into her bed. He was still the same broken man, the same ex-slave with a mind as scarred as his body, and in the time that had passed since that one glorious night in Hawke’s arms, Fenris had failed to make any changes in his life.

He hadn’t tried to find his sister. He hadn’t done anything other than take on jobs as an errand boy and follow Hawke and her friends around in their ill-advised adventures. He still sat alone in his mansion at night fuming about Danarius and Hadriana and all their misbegotten ilk. He was still just as blank and ruined as he’d always been, and he couldn’t… he didn’t dare inflict that on Hawke, not again, not even if he was drawn toward her in a way that he’d never been drawn to anyone else before.

They sat frozen on the floor for an interminable minute, Hawke’s fingers a hairsbreadth from his cheek and her wrist entrapped by his intractable grip. Fenris stared into her eyes and ignored the plumpness of her lower lip, and he prayed for the strength to move away from her now – right now, right this second now, now before his frenzied thoughts led him away from the reasons he shouldn’t touch her and brought him back to all the selfish reasons that he should.

And oh, the reasons he should, the reasons he wanted to fall into the crystal clear pools of her eyes and take what her slightly-parted lips were offering: those reasons were… fasta vass, they were far too close to the front of his mind. The pleasure of her body stretching beneath his own, of her needy gasps filling his ears, of her comforting hands cradling his face as she told him that there was nothing ruined about him–

“I can’t,” he snapped. He pulled her hand away from his face and turned away from her, dragging shaking fingers through his hair as he did.

For a brief, terrible moment, Hawke was silent. Then she laughed.

“Of course!” she said brightly. “Of course, I didn’t mean to – I was just, um – I’m terribly drunk, you know, and it’s – I should go home. I’m just about ready to fall asleep right here on your floor, which probably means I should go crawling into my bed before I end up like another one of those corpses in your corners here.” She snickered and pushed herself to her feet, and Fenris watched painfully as she stumbled toward the door.

She wasn’t wearing her boots, though. Fenris hastily pushed himself upright and ignored his own slightly spinning head. “Hawke, wait,” he said. “Your boots–”

She cut him off with a haphazard wave. “It’s okay, please, don’t say anything, it’s like it never happened.” She reached for the doorknob.

Fenris darted forward and planted one hand on the door. “You need to put on your boots,” he said. “You can’t go out without boots.”

“Why not? You do it all the time,” she said belligerently.

Fenris raised his eyebrows, but before he could reply, she sighed and sank down to the floor. “Ah, you’re right. My feet are terribly tender and delicate. Where are my bloody boots?”

Fenris silently brought her boots and socks, then waited with an ugly mixture of fondness and misery as she clumsily pulled them on. When she was finally shod once more, she stood up and did a dramatic curtsy.

“On that sparkling note, Rynne Hawke takes her leave,” she announced. She giggled and opened the door, then promptly tripped on the front step.

Fenris snatched her arm and her waist before she could hit the ground. “Fasta vass,” he complained.

She didn’t reply; she was far too busy laughing. Fenris sighed heavily, then stepped out of his mansion and pulled the door closed behind him. “Come on, Hawke,” he said wearily, and he looped his arm around her waist to guide her home.

She hiccuped and squeezed his arm. “Did you see I—” She broke off with a giggle. “I didn’t even make it one step out the door! Oh Fenris, aren’t you pleased I came to your house tonight to entertain you?”

“Not particularly,” he muttered, but not for the reasons she thought. He hadn’t had his hands on her this much since the night they’d spent together, and her drunken state wasn’t making the curve of her waist any less appealing. And his drunken state wasn’t making it easy to maintain the barriers he’d been building to keep her at bay.

She squeezed his arm again. “I know, I’m horrible, I’m a nuisance. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll — hic — bring you some of that apple pie that you like first thing in the morning, bright and early. You’ll be woken by the smell of fresh-baked— eek!” She tripped over a paving stone with a squeal, and Fenris scowled as he pulled her upright.

“Quiet,” he hissed. “If you cause a disturbance, I will be the one who’s blamed.” He scooped her up into his arms and continued in the direction of her mansion at a faster pace.

She gripped the collar of his tunic and beamed at him. “You hero. You chivalrous thing. You’re making a drunken girl’s dream come true.”

“Perhaps you can return the favour and keep your voice down,” he scolded softly. He was already on Hightown’s radar as ‘that elf of Hawke’s who squats in the derelict Vint mansion’, and he didn’t want anyone to find a reason to complain to Aveline again about his presence.

“All right, all right, I’m being quiet now,” she stage-whispered. Then, to his surprise, she actually fell silent.

He carried her in silence for a couple of minutes. She eventually rested her head against his shoulder, and he guiltily savoured the scent of her chestnut hair. But she still didn’t speak, and eventually Fenris wondered if she’d fallen asleep.

He glanced down at her, and his heart lurched; her eyes were closed, but her face was tinted with melancholy, and there were tears trickling down her cheeks.

He hastily looked up at the path ahead, but his entire rib cage was aching now, as though his heart was swelling and pushing against the walls of his chest. He ought to say something – something to soothe her, like the way she was always trying to soothe him when he was angry. But he was the cause of her distress, so what was there to say?

He swallowed the lump in his throat and didn’t speak, and they made the rest of the trip to the Amell state in silence.

As they approached the door, Hawke finally spoke. “Don’t knock. I don’t want to wake her.”

Fenris nodded. “Where are your keys?”

“In my pouch belt,” she said. “You can put me down now. I promise I won’t disgrace myself by falling onto my own front step.”

Her tone was cheeky and warm, and for some reason, this made his chest hurt even more. He shook his head slightly. “I’ll bring you safely inside.”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “All right. I won’t complain about being carried by Thedas’s most handsome elf.”

He scoffed softly, then waited as she pulled out her keys and unlocked the door. But as they were moving toward the stairs, Leandra’s bedroom door opened.

Leandra stepped out with a scowl. “Rynne, I’ve been beside myself—” She stopped short at the sight of Fenris and clutched the neckline of her dressing gown.

“Surprise!” Rynne exclaimed, and she patted Fenris’s chest. “Two for the price of one!”

Fenris cleared his throat. “Hawke, keep your voice down,” he mumbled.

She pulled a little face. “Right, right, people sleeping and all that,” she whispered. Then she blew a kiss to Leandra. “Hello, Mother! Go on back to bed, all right?”

Leandra stared at them for a moment longer, then lifted her chin and went back into her bedroom. As soon as the door was shut behind her, Hawke burst into giggles.

“Maker’s balls,” she whispered. “She’s going to be furious in the morning when you’re not here. I might not be able to bring you apple pie after all. I’ll be too busy nursing the new asshole she’s going to tear me in the morning.”

Fenris grimaced at the vivid image, then headed for the stairs. When they were in Hawke’s bedroom, he set her down on the bed.

Hawke snickered to herself as she pulled off her boots. She clumsily shucked her vest, then started pulling her shirt over her head, and Fenris hastily turned away.

He awkwardly tugged his ear. “I’ll, er. I’ll just…” He trailed off and started shifting toward the door.

“She’s disappointed,” Hawke said.

He glanced cautiously at her. She was tucked in bed and covered up to her chest, and her lips were curled in a sad sort of smile.

Fenris took a cautious step closer to the bed. “She will get over it soon enough.”

“No, I mean she’s disappointed that I’m not Bethany.” Hawke’s smile widened. “Honestly, so am I sometimes. She had the most perfect milkmaid skin. I bet you would have loved her too.”

His heart twisted painfully. Whatever Bethany’s virtues were, there was no doubt in his mind that she would never have found her way past his armour and burrowed beneath his tainted skin the way that Hawke had.

But he couldn’t tell that to Hawke. Such words meant nothing if he was incapable of backing them up with the devotion that she deserved.

He swallowed hard. “Get some sleep,” he said softly. “I will see you in the morning.” He slowly made his way to the door.

“Fenris?”

He glanced at her. “Yes?”

“Do you want to know what I like best about living in Kirkwall?”

“Half-off Tuesdays at the Hanged Man?” he suggested weakly.

She let out a bark of laughter. “Aw, half-off Tuesdays. That’s almost my favourite thing.”

He leaned against the door jamb. “I give up, then. What do you like best?”

“Running around this fucking place with you,” she replied.

In the dim lantern light of her bedroom, her smile was sweet and free of guile, and Fenris felt his throat growing thick once more. He felt the same way, of course; Kirkwall would have no value if not for her. She was the reason he had decided to stay, even after the exquisite disaster of their night together. Even knowing he was no good for her, he was incapable of leaving her side.

He gazed at her for a moment and drank in the perfect softness of her smile. It is the same for me, he thought. You are the only reason I’ve remained in this Maker-forbidden city. The confession crept close to the edge of his tongue, ready to spill into the soft and intimate atmosphere of her bedroom.

But the walk from his house to hers had cleared the booze-induced boldness from his mind, and he was no longer at the mercy of his selfish heart.

He bowed his head politely. “Get some sleep,” he said.

Her smile widened, and she snuggled down into her blankets and reached for the bedside lamp. “Goodnight, Fenris,” she said softly.

“Goodnight, Hawke,” he murmured. A moment later, her bedside lamp went out.

Fenris quietly closed her bedroom door, then padded silently downstairs. Orana was awake and waiting nervously by the door to lock it behind him, and he murmured an apology to her as he left. Then he was slipping stealthily through Hightown back to his empty mansion.

Once he was in the mansion once more, he sat at the table and stared at Hard in Hightown, but the words were meaningless on the page, unseen by his unfocused eyes.

Hawke thought she was a disappointment, but nothing was farther from the truth. Nothing about her was a disappointment — not her incessant jokes or her drunken visits to his home, not the fact that she was a mage, and the memories of her naked body bending beneath his hands… venhedis, nothing about those memories were a disappointment either.

It didn’t bear thinking about, though. Hawke might not be a disappointment, but Fenris certainly was, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

With that heavy thought, he closed his copy of Hard in HIghtown and went to bed.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenrynne #fhawris #pikapeppa writes

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fenrys-moonbeam-lochan · 4 years

Text

Our Dear Friend

Summary: Doctor Hafiza waits for someone to come and pick up Fenrys Moonbeam, dreading where the day will go. It turns out better than she expected.

Ao3

Part of my ToG Comfortember 2020 fics.

xxx

There were times when being a doctor was a wonderful thing and there were times it left a heavy feeling in your soul. Hafiza wondered which one this would be.

Doctor Hafiza had been at Torre Cesme hospital since she was an intern. Now as chief of surgery for twenty years and near retirement, she had seen it all. Death, life, cancer, fractures, crying families, celebrating families, rare disorders, infections, even a pandemic. Everything had passed in front of her eyes.

Still, the sight of the young man on the bed was sending a twisted feeling through her gut.

She wasn't even supposed to be here today but the storm outside had derailed many of their doctors, leaving them short-staffed. After putting in the necessary calls as Chief, she had decided to step into the ER and help where she could.

That was how she had ended up with Fenrys Moonbeam's chart in her hands, an Olympic swimmer.

There was nothing outwardly wrong with the man. He had collapsed at the gym and emergency services had been alerted by the establishment. He didn't have any injuries internal or external that could have caused the fall.

However, after some conversation, the reason for it had become obvious.

It was exhaustion. Physical and emotional exhaustion. From what he had told them and their consulting physiatrist, Fenrys had been working himself non-stop, most likely skipping proper meals to work-out. The lack of proper meals wasn't obvious and wouldn't cause this much trouble if he was an average person. However, for an Olympic level athlete, it was dangerous. The worst part, he didn't seem to see anything wrong with it, describing his schedule as if it was normal.

The man needed help and Hafiza wasn't sure if it was going to happen. Legally they couldn't keep him and Fenrys made no indication that he would take their advice in resting and taking care of himself. In a scenario like this, the best bet was pleading to the person's emotional side by revealing their issue, with their permission ofcourse, to their family and friends. Except, the man was under the direct care of Maeve, his coach, a woman who had a well-known reputation for being a hardass. Not to mention, the rumours of emotional abuse that had flared up a while ago before being viciously squashed.

The only hope Hafiza could see was that since it was the offseason, Fenrys's emergency contacts were two other swimmers, his twin brother and Lorcan Salvaterre. But still, Hafiza had been mentored by a doctor who had spent a lot of their time with athletes. Knowing their mentality, she didn't know if they would understand the severity of the situation. Or if Fenrys would even let her tell them.

She was shaken out of her thoughts as a nurse came up to her.

"They're here for Fenrys Moonbeam," he said gesturing behind him, "They all insisted on coming in,"

Hafiza looked up to see five men coming toward her. She recognized Connall Moonbeam and the silver-haired Rowan Whitethorn but she had no idea who the rest of them were. Probably athletes too. They were certainly built like swimmers.

"Thank you," she told the nurse, "I'll take care of them,"

"Are you his doctor? Where is he? Is everything okay with him?" rushed out Connall, the perfect picture of a concerned brother.

"Right this way," she said, gesturing to the room behind her, "We put him in here or his privacy. Too many people recognized him,"

Connall nodded and they all followed her. Both Connall and the tall blonde took either side of his bed. The big brunette man and Whitethorn opted to stay closer to her while the fifth man stood by the foot of the bed.

"Fenrys," said the blonde, "What happened? We came as soon as we got the call, took a while in this storm,"

"You didn't have to come," said Fenrys, "I just overdid it. I'm ready to go home,"

He tried to get to the blankets but his brother stopped him.

"Just wait a second. I wanna hear this from the doctor,"

He then turned towards her.

"I'm Connall. The blonde is Gavriel. Lorcan and Rowan are with you and this one over here is Vaughan. Can you tell us what's wrong with my brother?"

Hafiza looked at her patient for permission. After a moment, Fenrys sighed and nodded.

"To put it simply," said Hafiza, "The man is exhausted. His meal plans and workout routine is wearing him down-"

"Hold up- wait," said Rowan, "That doesn't make any sense. He's a professional. He knows how to take care of himself. There has to be something else wrong here,"

Hafiza tampered down her annoyance. Well, there went her hope for a smooth plan for Fenrys.

"That is what it is," said Hafiza

"Look, guys," said Fenrys, "Like I said, I overdid it a bit. Nothing special. I'm fine,"

The man most certainly was not fine. She was thinking of what else to say but Gavriel beat her to it.

"We all overdo it sometimes, doesn't make us collapse over some gym equipment. And you've been avoiding us, Fen,"

"I said I'm fine!"

"Obviously not," muttered Vaughan

"You know what, asshole-"

"Enough," said Lorcan

The room instantly got quiet.

The man turned to Fenrys, "You're lying. You know it. We know it. Now you obviously don't want the doctor saying whatever she was going to say so why don't you let us know what's going on,"

Fenrys opened his mouth but then shut it.

"The truth, Fenrys," said Lorcan

The words burst out all at once.

"I'm tired, okay?! Is that what you wanna hear, I'm tired and I'm trying to get better but I'm not getting any better, and feeling down all the time and there's this big empty hole inside of me and I- I just- I'm tired okay. I just feel really tired all the time, Food doesn't taste good and sleep is just weird. I- don't know what- I don't- don't know what-"

As his rant died down, Fenrys's eyes started to fill with tears. He ducked his face to hide them but Gavriel pulled him close instead. His brother put an arm around him from behind. The rest of the men just watched in shock as Fenrys cried into Gavriel's chest.

Hafiza waited.

"Gods," muttered Rowans. Lorcan just shook his head and sighed.

It was sinking in for them. This would be a crucial moment.

"Fenrys," murmured Rowan, "Please look at us,"

Sniffling Fenrys pulled away so everyone could see him.

"You need a break from all this, Boyo," said Rowan, "This isn't healthy. We'll change your plan so you can have some time to yourself,"

"Maeve isn't going to like that," said Fenrys, voice just a bit bitter "And anyway, what are you going to help with? You're all leaving anyway,"

"What?" asked Conall, looking around the room, "What is he talking about?"

"We've been discussing retirement," answered Gavriel, "We're a lot older than you and we just don't swim the same anymore,"

"Doesn't mean we're leaving you," said Vaughan, "We're still gonna be right here. Just not in the game,"

"Not getting rid of us that easily, Boyo," Rowan chimed in, a small grin on his face.

Good. This was good.

Fenrys was starting to look a little more hopeful, "Maeve's still not gonna like a plan change though, she already thinks I don't work hard enough,"

"That's bullshit," said Lorcan, "When did she say that?"

"A month ago,"

Lorcan and Rowan looked at each other for a few moments, seemingly holding a silent conversation between them.

"Maybe its time we got you and Connall a new coach," said Rowan once they turned back

"What?" said Fenrys, surprise etched into his face. His brother looked just as shocked.

Hafiza had to admit, she was surprised too.

"You're good, Fenrys. There are a lot of people who would jump at the chance to coach the two of you. And if there's no one else, we'll do it ourselves," said Rowan.

"What?"

"I've been assisting With the younger swimmers for a while now," said Lorcan, "And Rowan has been assisting Aelin on her come back-"

"Not the only thing he's assisting with," muttered Vaughan, causing groans and chuckles around the room.

"Point is," continued Lorcan, "We can do this,"

"Maeve will try to blacklist you," said Connall

"Let her try," said Rowan

"You would really do this?" asked Fenrys, sounding small and unsure

"Of course," said Lorcan, voice filled with conviction, "But you need help, Fen. This isn't okay,"

After a long moment, Fenrys nodded, "Alright. I'll try,"

Hafiza let out a long breath. This was good.

Rowan turned towards her, "So doctor, how do we help him?"

Hafiza straightened her notes and started to got through the treatment, "Well, to start with, his diet-"

They all listened intently as she talked, Vaughan even taking notes. They had also all gravitated towards the bed, at least one hand reaching for their friend.

Some days being a doctor was great and some days it was not. However, Hafiza could say without a doubt, at this moment it was truly wonderful

Today, it was a good day to be a doctor.

#throne of glass #Throne of Glass series #throne of glass fanfiction #lorcan #lorcan salvaterre #rowan #rowan whitethorn #gavriel #Vaughan #connall moonbeam #Fenrys #fenrys moonbeam #sarah j. maas #hafiza

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contreparry · 3 years

Note

For DADW, accidental eavesdropping!

Sure! Here’s some Isabelaxfemale!Hawke for @dadrunkwriting!

Now Isabela didn’t know normally eavesdrop (which was a lie, because she loved gossip and all sorts of tales, especially the ones she wasn’t supposed to hear). But she didn’t normally eavesdrop on her friends, and especially not on her lovers. Well, fine, she eavesdropped on them sometimes, but she wasn’t exactly proud of it! And she certainly didn’t like eavesdropping when it was a complete accident! Isabela liked to have her spying sessions planned! Then you could find a decently comfortable hiding spot, stash away some rum and a snack, and settle in for the wait. But when you were ambushed by an eavesdropping opportunity, you simply had to make the best of it, which was why she was stuck in the pantry as Varric tried to brainstorm presents for her birthday with Marian Hawke.

Well, it was more like Varric was trying to brainstorm. Hawke, her sweet, lovely, heart as big as the ocean Hawke, rejected each suggestion.

“No, Varric, I tried the ship in a bottle and it only made her sad! And Izzy’s love of jewelry is so particular, I can’t just go to a jeweler and demand a necklace without her being there!” Hawke exclaimed. “And the book thing might be a little tasteless, considering...”

“Fine, fine, no ships, no jewelry, no smut-”

“I didn’t say ‘no smut,’ I only said that books might not be a good idea right now,” Hawke sighed, and there was a dull thud in the kitchen that suggested she either smacked the table with her hand or her head. Isabela bit her lip to prevent herself from giggling up a storm. Most eavesdropping ended up being highly unpleasant- it was never nice to hear what you weren’t meant to, after all. But this was as warm and awkward and sweet as Hawke was, and Isabela wanted to shower that woman in kisses until she was a flustered mess.

“Maybe perfume?” Varric suggested.

“Allergies,” Hawke sighed. “And Fenris already gave her a fancy bottle of wine from his collection so that’s out. And you already said that my poetry is the worst-”

“Abysmal,” Varric agreed. “Don’t worry, Hawke. You’ll come up with something Rivani will love.” And Isabela smiled, her heart near to bursting even as a shelf full of preserved jellies and jams dug into her back. Whatever Hawke got her for her birthday, Isabela thought, she would treasure it forever. Even if it was a bracelet that wasn’t to her taste or a ship in a bottle.

#my writing #da drunk writing circle

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knittingdreams · 3 years

Text

Fireheart - Chapter 18

Short and sweet today because I’m drowning in work! I will update the Masterlist later, I promise! But if you jump down like 2 posts, the link will be there (I know, I’m so lazy, it would have been faster to copy the link rather than type all of this, oops! xD) I’m a weirdo, I know!

Btw, if anyone wants to be tagged when I upload a new chapter, please just say so! I’d be more than happy too! And as promise, here’s my first tag: @tillyrubes10 I hope you love this new chapter! :D

CHAPTER 18

Sidetracking

Sunday was a blurred mix of images in Celaena’s mind, and she wasn’t sure what had been real, and what had been a dream. Waking up in a stranger’s room, she started piecing all the bits of information together, trying to collect as many facts as she could about her situation.

She got up from the bed and had a drink of water from the bedside table. There were a couple of blisters with painkillers, and she decided to take just one more to blur the pain and help her focus. She was done with feeling weak and useless. Her phone was also on the night table, connected to a charger on the wall that wasn’t her own; she was surprised to find it there as she couldn’t remember asking for one.

Looking down at herself, she laughed; she was wearing a pair of male pajama pants with drawings of dinosaurs in all colors and shapes. After checking her phone, she started rushing around and picking up the few belongings that were scattered around the room, and throwing them back into her duffle bag. If she wanted to make it in time to go to school, she’d have to go back to the hotel to get her uniform, shower, get changed, and apply a ton of makeup. Probably too much makeup. Time was barely on her side.

She looked around the room until she finally found a small mirror on the inside of the closet’s door. She looked pale, and the cut on her brow was still swollen, the skin around it was a mixture of green, yellow and purple. She rolled her sore shoulders and then lifted her top to look at the long cut on top of her hip bone; the skin around it felt a little tight, but the redness had almost disappeared and the stitches looked good.

As she heard voices outside the room, she hurried to her bag, grabbed her contacts, and put them on using the small mirror again. Her eyes were still sore from wearing the contacts for way longer than she was supposed to and sleeping with them the night before, but she added some eye drops and hoped it’d do for the moment. She barely remembered taking them off on Sunday and hoped she hadn’t been stupid enough to let any of the guys see her eyes.

Not like they could make anything out of it anyway.

A knock sounded at her door, and it slid open slowly almost as soon as she reached the handle.

“You’re up early,” Fenrys said, sounding surprised.

“Yes, I’m feeling way better.”

“You’re leaving,” he said as his eyes darted around the room and focused on her bag. It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway.

“I am, I need to head to school.” She bit her tongue as soon as the words were out of her mouth. The pain was certainly still messing with her mind, she normally wouldn’t have been so stupid to let such a big piece of information slip out of her mouth.

Fenrys’ eyes didn’t give much away, but his smirk did. “School, huh? Why don’t you join us for breakfast before you go? Connall’s making eggs, and he’s a fine cook.”

“I don’t really have time for-”

“I insist,” Fenrys hooked an arm around her and ushered her out of the room. “What kind of host would I be if I didn’t feed you, right? You haven’t eaten pretty much anything in two days, you need your strength back.” He might have noticed her body going tense at the contact because he let go of her almost as fast as he had grabbed her. “Please?” He added with pleading eyes.

Begrudgingly, she walked with him down the hall and towards the kitchen. It was probably a good idea to gather some information on these people before leaving anyway, and she was famished.

The open plan lounge was small but practical. To her left, there was a couch in front of a small TV that had some blankets and a pillow on top, and two small armchairs. And to the right, a small kitchen and a table with four chairs around it. Connall was cooking on the stove, his back to them, and he barely looked over his shoulder as they walked into the room.

“Morning, brother!” Fenrys chanted happily.

“Hm, morning,” Celaena said, feeling slightly uncomfortable but slowly slipping into the character she had to play.

“Come on, let’s grab a seat,” Fenrys pointed to a chair, and she took a seat, looking around the room discreetly.

“So, it’s just the three of you living here?” She asked, pretending to make small talk.

“Yes, it is. So glad to see that you’re off your defensive horse.”

Celaena glared at him and then softened her look. “I apologize if I caused you any inconveniences or if I was rude. If I’m honest, my memories from what’s happened in the last day and a half are a bit hazy, but I know I owe you one; the stitches look great.”

Fenrys’ smile spread wide on his face as he looked at her up and down as if trying to check how well she was feeling.

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you're feeling better. You have some color back on your cheeks... If you wanted to pay me back, you could always stay for a while longer, so I can make sure you’re properly healed.”

“I do feel almost back to my normal self,” Celaena shook her head, and Fenrys sighed as he smiled warmly at her.

“You are so much stronger than what meets the eyes, you know that, right? I think you might be the bravest teen I have ever encountered, you almost had those guys back at the alley.” He said encouragingly.

Connall came over with two plates full of scrambled eggs and toast then, and put one in front of each of them, then returned to the stove and came back a moment later with his own plate, and a tray full of crispy bacon. Celaena was glad for the interruption as everybody looked at the food in awe.

“Bon appétit," Fenrys lifted a glass of orange juice as if doing a toast.

“Thanks, Connall, and thank you too, Fenrys.”

“Eat up,” Fenrys grabbed a forkful of eggs, and Celaena followed suit.

The eggs were delicious, and considering how hungry she was, she ate her whole plate without paying much attention to anything going on around her. Once she was done, she looked up, only to find both Fenrys and Connall staring at her.

“Do you want some more?” Connall asked jokingly, a half-smile showing on his face for the first time.

“Is there any more?” She asked softly, making both brothers laugh. Connall went over to the counter and returned with a new plate full of eggs and fresh bread.

“It was meant to be for Rowan, but he’s taking too long on the 24/7, so you can have it. I’ll make him more later.” He slid the plate in front of her, and Celaena grabbed a mouthful of egg, aware of Fenrys’ eyes still on her.

“So, school, huh?”

She looked up at him through her lashes and shook her head.

“I think you’re smart enough to know I won't tell you anything about it.”

Fenrys’ laughed out loud while Connall collected the empty plates and headed towards the sink. There were only a bunch of schools in the city, but they were enough for them to have to actively search if they wanted to find out which one she attended.

“Girl, I don’t even know your name.”

“And that’s how it’s meant to remain. I need to leave, and you should forget any of this ever happened.”

“Are you sure you're feeling good enough to leave? I honestly don’t think you should be going to school, you need to rest and take care of those stitches. Do I need to remind you that you lost a lot of blood?”

“Trust me, I remember.”

Her eyes dropped back down to her plate as she ate slower now, the memories of everything that had happened catching back with her. She had been careless and stupid, she should have never allowed Cain to get so close to her, to make her so vulnerable. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was lucky Fenrys had seen them and stepped in; she didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if he didn’t.

When they heard the front door open, they both turned around and found Rowan standing under the threshold, his hands full of grocery bags.

“What the fuck is this?” He dropped the bags to the floor and slammed the door shut behind him.

Celaena jumped to her feet on instinct, and Fenrys walked forward, standing almost in front of her. “What’s wrong, Rowan?”

“What’s wrong?” Rowan yelled back. He stormed towards them and pushed Fenrys with a palm against his chest. “Couldn’t you have given her any other fucking seat?”

Celaena watched them confused as Fenrys’ expression changed, his eyes dropping and his palms raising. “I’m sorry mate, I didn’t… didn’t think about it.”

Rowan’s cheeks were bright red, one fist clenched by his side, and the other grabbing a fistful of Fenrys’ shirt. Celaena cleared her throat lightly, and Rowan turned to her as if remembering she was standing there. His eyes traveled down to the pajama pants she was wearing, and if she didn’t know the guy better, she would have thought his eyes were filling up with tears. He let go of Fenrys and, pushing him to the side, stormed towards the hallway.

“Fuck.” Fenrys ran after him, leaving Celaena standing on the spot, speechless and confused. He disappeared down the hall, and then she heard the knocking on a door, a door opening and closing, and muffled yelling as Fenrys and Rowan argued behind closed doors, possibly in Rowan’s bedroom.

Connall showed up by her side, and she looked at him questioningly. “What was that about?” He shook his head and pointed to the bags by the door.

“Help me with the groceries.”

She followed him as they picked up the bags, took them to the kitchen counter, and started unpacking all the food. They worked in silence for a while, the muffled argument in the distance going quieter and quieter until Connall sighed and looked at her.

“You were sitting on her seat,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Who’s seat?”

“Rowan’s ex.”

“Oh, okay.” Confused, Celaena got a bunch of bananas out of a bag and passed them over to Connall, who set them on a fruit bowl and turned around to get some cans out of another bag.

“So, what’s the deal? Is the seat sacred or something?” She grabbed the last of the apples from the bag and set them on the fruit bowl. Connall poked his head out of the pantry, looking at her with his characteristic nonchalant expression.

“She’s dead.”

Celaena’s jaw dropped, Connall’s head disappeared back behind the pantry’s door, and as if on queue, Rowan walked into the room. There was an awkward silence as Celaena held an empty bag in her hands, and Rowan just stood there in front of the hallway door, looking at her. As she opened her mouth to say something, anything, Fenrys showed up behind Rowan and set a hand hard on his shoulder.

“My mate here wanted to apologize for overreacting,” he said, a huge smile on his face. Rowan scoffed and rolled his eyes, but then looked at her, nodding lightly.

“I’m sorry for overreacting,” Rowan said, nonchalant.

“And… for being a moody prick?” Fenrys spur him on, making Rowan roll his eyes again.

“And for being a moody prick.” Rowan’s right corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.

“Apology accepted.” Celaena had to admit, she almost liked Fenrys and his way of dealing with things. But her time was over, and she needed to hurry and head to the hotel if she wanted to have enough time to do her makeup. There was probably no useful information within the apartment, nothing worth her time. “Now, it’s my time to head out.”

“Don’t forget to return Rowan his pajamas before you go.” Fenrys winked at her, and Celaena darted out of the kitchen, pushing the guys to the side as she passed the door and headed back to the bedroom. Rowan’s pajamas? She remembered then, barely, how Rowan had given her some of his clothes the day before. Had he been in the bathroom with her? She shook her head dismissing the crazy memory of Rowan helping her, that part surely must have been a dream.

Celaena got her bag, and as she was about to head out of the room, her phone rang. It was Sam’s name on the screen.

“Cortland.”

“Hey, you’ve been MIA this weekend, I expected to hear more about the fight. Should I pop into the hotel before school?”

“I don’t think so, I’m running late and will be just in time for class.”

“Oh, okay. Any new developments I should hear about? I’ve heard from Arobynn, he’ll be out of town all week again, I think he’s headed over to Terrasen.”

“Not much, really. Look, can’t talk right now, gotta go.” She hung up, fixed her bag over her shoulder, and walked towards the lounge.

All three flatmates were sitting on the couches as she approached. “Okay, thanks for your hospitality, but I guess this is goodbye.”

As Fenrys stood up, a loud knock sounded on the front door. Fenrys’ eyes widened, Rowan jumped to his feet, and Connall raised his eyebrows.

“You,” Fenrys mouthed to Rowan as he pointed at her.

Rowan walked quickly to her side and pushed her gently with a hand in the small of her back. He led her towards the room on the back of the hall as she heard Fenrys calling ‘coming’ while he walked loudly around the lounge.

Rowan left the door ajar as he leaned in, his ear against the gap.

“Hey, how can I help you?” Fenrys’ voice reached them from the entrance.

“I have a message for you all,” an unknown male voice replied. It sounded deep but young.

“What is Lorcan Salvaterre doing here?” Rowan murmured to himself, and Celaena stepped back, the school database popping in her head as the name rang a bell.

#fireheart #chapter eighteen #tog fanfic #throne of glass fandom #aelin #rowan #fenrys #lorcan #connall

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ahrorha · 3 years

Text

The Splintered Road

Hey,

So this is my second attempt at a fanfic. This time it is about my second favourite elf Fenris. (That voice....melts)

I know Dragon Age II got a lot of hate, but I truly loved the game and its compact setting of a single city. I liked the concept of what happens if you are the town's hero and how much crap you have to deal with if you are the go-to person for everyone. I found the companions you got phenomenal, they had all their flaws, and even if the time jumps were a little awkward at times, I got really invested in their development and the many disagreements you can have as a group of friends.

This story will add another OC to the mix of friends in Kirkwall. I like to add things to stories and give them my own spin ;) I hope you will enjoy my take on Kirkwall through the eyes of one of Hawke's companions, rather than focusing on the main character himself.

Chapter 1

A forest covered the jagged landscape, its deciduous trees slowly changing colour with the onset of autumn. A shallow river rushed over rocks and fallen trees through it, carving a winding path down the Vinmark Mountains. The sun was setting, casting long shadows between the trees and the moss-covered rock formations. A halla stepped out of the brushwood, listening cautiously before lowering its horned head to drink from the river. Abruptly it raised its head again when it heard the sound of naked feet drawing closer. On the opposite side of the river, a hooded figure appeared. For a moment, they both stared at each other; not sensing any danger, the halla lowered its head again and resumed drinking from the river.

Yssil's piercing amber eyes looked carefully around before lowering her hood. Not wanting to startle the halla, she kept her movements slow and calm. Her left ear twitched as the hood's fabric slipped over the sensitive tip. Kneeling down, she washed her hands before drinking from the river. Her dark brown wavy hair dropped from behind her ear, obscuring her view. Annoyed, she pushed it back, wondering if she should cut it and make life easier for herself. But as soon as she thought it, she remembered her mother and how she combed her hair every evening and morning when she was a child. No, she wouldn't cut it. Not now; she was finally able to grow it again. With a sigh, she shook her head, shaking the memories of the past away. Now was not the time to dwell on them.

She observed her surroundings anew; the terrain had slowly changed in the last couple of days. Though the landscape was still rocky and uneven, she was clearly descending from the mountains. The pine trees had disappeared, making way for oaks and other deciduous trees, and the underbrush was becoming thicker. It was also slowly becoming warmer, though that wouldn't last. With the beginning of autumn, the nights would soon grow colder, and the weather would turn fouler, just like today. She eyed the thick clouds gathering above her head. It wouldn't stay dry much longer. At least with the lower altitude, it became easier for her to breathe.

No, Yssil felt relieved that she finally managed to pass the high peaks of the Vimmark Mountains. The journey hadn't been easy, and it had depleted the few reserves she had. She looked at her thin wrist, cursing that she again had lost some weight. With a sigh, she looked down the river; at least in this forest, she would be able to find more food. And maybe when she eventually would reach the coast of the Waking Sea, she could find a place where she could stay for a while. She sure needed it after months of travelling.

As relieved as she was that she soon would reach the coast, it was also worrisome. It had been her goal for such a long time that now she was finally near it, her nerves started to kick in. She would need to make a decision on what her next move would be. On the one hand, she could try to find a place in one of the smaller villages along the coast. It would be easy to find simple work and make a living, but villages were terrible places to hide. Gossip was ripe in those places, and she would need to be careful not to be sold out to the next slaver or templar. Like it happened in the last place she had tried to stay.

Her other option was to head east to Ostwick or west to Kirkwall and disappear in the anonymity of living in a big city. It would be more challenging to make a living, but no one in a city looked twice at a poor knife-ear. And maybe she would be lucky and find a family that needed a maid or a storekeeper looking for diligent hands. There was also the possibility to travel even farther south, to Ferelden. But that required funds to pay for a ship voyage, money that she didn't have at the moment.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a deep rumble in the sky. Above her head, the trees were swooshing by the wind that had picked up. Yssil shook her head. Here she was worrying about money when she had other problems to deal with. Soon it would start to rain, and by the sound of it, it would be an ugly night. Luckily she already had found a place to shelter, an old abandoned hut, broken and decaying, but it would keep her dry enough. The bummer was that she wouldn't have time to scout this area any further without getting wet.

“You should also find a place to stay.” Yssil murmured to the halla that had started to graze. Quickly she refilled her waterskin when she noticed a stump of a cut-down tree. She cursed silently; this was already the third one she had spotted. She must be closer to a village or a road than she thought.

Suddenly the halla raised its head, its ears twitching nervously, before it bolted, startling Yssil. She listened and could hear weapons clashing in the distance. Quickly she got to her feet, moving back into the forest, away from whoever was fighting.

“GET HIM!” someone yelled.

Yssil froze; someone was being pursued.

“Surround him!”

Shaking her head, she turned back and skipped over the rocks across the river. Berating herself that this was a terrible idea. Quietly she slipped through the trees, moving carefully closer to the fight.

“Venhedis.” Fenris cursed.

Even with the detour of not taking the direct route to Kirkwall, the hunters had found him. He shouldn't have travelled the trade route through the mountains, now the hunters had caught up with him again. In an attempt to lose them, he had abandoned the road and fled into the forest. But it hadn't helped. The hunters had moved quickly and efficiently and now were surrounding him. These were no ordinary slavers but a group of seasoned hunters. Danarius must have paid them well for them to come all the way out here.

Their leader, a broad warrior with a heavy war hammer, stepped forward. “Stand down, slave!”

The words cut Fenris deep, fuelling his anger.

How far did he need to run before they would leave him alone?

When would he finally be free?

In a smooth motion, he grabbed his greatsword.

“I am NOT a slave!” he yelled as his markings flared. Enraged, he stormed forward. His sword slashing one of the hunters, cutting him open across his chest, ending his despicable life. Without a pause, he turned towards his next target. Under Danarius, he had trained for these kinds of situations. He had fought droves of men for hours until his body gave out from exhaustion. Over and over again, he had been punished for not fighting longer. Now he would make use of that training. He would make these slavers regret the day they decided to hunt him.

“GET HIM!” their leader yelled, and the hunters stormed towards him.

With care, Yssil climbed onto a rock formation and glanced down onto the clearing. She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw an elven warrior fight against a large group of men. His markings flashing as he moved with grace and speed from foe to foe. He was wielding a sword as long as he himself was. But it didn't seem to hinder him. As if the sword weighed nothing, he swung the sword around, felling the men that opposed him.

With an open mouth, she stared at the fight. Suddenly the elf's markings flashed again, and he disappeared only to reappear again behind another foe, cutting him down. Those markings, his abilities, she recognised them from the stories she had heard. It had to be Fenris, Danarius' fabled magical creation and bodyguard.

But what was he doing here?

She watched as he spun around, swinging his sword at another opponent, a big warrior handling a war hammer. It looked like he was the group leader, and he was barking orders while fighting Fenris. Many of his men were already dead or lay wounded on the ground, but the leader managed to stand his ground against the lean elf.

Fear ran through Yssil when she noticed two men carrying mancatchers, trying to close in on Fenris. She also noticed that some of the men had shackles hanging from their belts.

They were slavers. She needed to get away from here.

“This will get him.” she heard someone muttering below her.

Slowly she looked down over the edge of the rocks she hid on and saw two archers below her. They were tipping their arrowheads into a sticky substance.

“He will never know what hit him.” one of them grinned.

His companion was laughing dirty. “He is getting tired; he can't keep this speed up for much longer.”

“The boss will keep his attention.”

With care, they both aimed their bows at Fenris.

Startled, she realised they were going to try and poison him.

“Watch out! Behind you!” she yelled without thinking, but it was too late. The arrows flew already towards their mark.

Fenris heard the unexpected yell. On instinct and after years of combat training, he turned his body slightly, dodging another sweep of the war hammer and let his marking flare. He noticed an arrow flying past him, but at the same time, he was hit by another one. A piercing pain flared up from his right shoulder, but he had no time to deal with the archers as the slave leader increased his attacks.

There was a sudden flash behind him as parts of a huge overhanging rock exploded into pieces and crashed down. Judging by the screams, several people were buried under the rubble. Distracted by the explosion, the group leader before him looked past him. In a blink of an eye, Fenris took the opportunity and punched his fist inside the man's chest, crushing his heart.

Fenris blinked and shook his head as his vision started to blur. A cold numbness was slowly spreading through him. His right shoulder and arm were slowly becoming stiff and unresponsive. Venhedis! He realised that they had used poison. Gritting his teeth, he rushed to the next hunter. He needed to finish this fight before the poison would take its full effect. Only three hunters left, but they tried to encircle him, attacking him from different sides. He parried one blow, coming from the left, leaving his right side open. With poison in his system, he wasn't quick enough to turn away and dodge the attack that came from the right.

A sharp pain erupted from his side as one of the hunter's took advantage of his weakened state. Fenris was hit by his waist, and he quickly jumped backwards. Panting heavily, he was facing his attackers, but the world looked more blurry by the minute. His movements felt sluggish. He was running out of time.

Suddenly an arrow flew past him, hitting a hunter in his chest, killing him.

Another arrow was shot; it missed but distracted the remaining two hunters. This was his chance.

Crying out, Fenris' markings flared as he leapt forward, his sword slashing through the air, hitting the remaining hunters in their chests. They flew back from his powerful attack. One hunter fell and didn't move anymore; the other managed to stay on his feet. But before he could take a step, he was hit by another arrow, ending the hunter's life.

Finally, it was over. Breathing heavily, Fenris staggered. Struggling to stay on his feet, he leaned on his sword. He blinked several times as the world started to spin. He squinted his eyes and could just make out a figure moving in the distance. But before he could focus, everything went dark, and he fell to the ground.

After Fenris fell over, Yssil slowly stepped into the clearing. Over a dozen hunters lay on the ground, some of them still moving and moaning. Drawing her dagger, she slit the throat of the first one before quickly moving to the next. She couldn't and wouldn't allow them to recover.

Having finished her bloody task, she carefully approached Fenris. She was hesitant to touch him, fearing he would jump up at any minute. His tinted skin was marked with swirling white lines that crept up his arms and neck like vines. She could only imagine he had them all over his body. She could feel the faint hum of the lyrium that was contained within them. Hesitantly she brushed her fingers over them; they were slightly raised from his skin, like faint scars imbued with lyrium. She could instantly feel the hum of the lyrium under her fingertips. She also noticed how his skin was irritated around the lyrium edges. They must hurt him constantly, she realised.

She had heard stories of his wondrous markings, but she always thought it was simply that, just stories. Now she saw those stories were genuine, making this situation only more dangerous for her. Pushing her fears aside, she checked Fenris' vitals. He was still breathing, but he was seriously injured. Yssil cursed silently. Why did she get herself involved? And what should she do now?

She looked around. What a mess she got herself into this time. Not only had she an unconscious dangerous warrior to deal with, but she was also out in the open, surrounded by corpses. She half expected more hunters to appear at any second. Looking back at Fenris, she thought of leaving him here and disappear back into the forest, where she would be safe. Why was he even here, she wondered? Had he been free since his escape? Or was he send here to find her? She shook her head, no that wasn't likely; no one knew she was here. She sighed, knowing she could hardly leave him here.

Above her head, another thunder sounded, and the first drops fell from the sky. “Great! Just what I needed.” she grumbled. “Come on! You have started this.” she said to herself and walked towards the corpse of the leader. The hole in his chest was clearly visible, and where his heart had once been was just pulp. She almost gagged at the sight but managed to strip him from his cloak.

Now, how had her father explained the construction of a stretcher again?

The downpour of rain was the first thing Fenris heard.

His head was pounding, and his body hurt, but that was nothing new. Still dazed, he felt someone touching his shoulder. His reaction was immediate. His eyes shot open, and ignoring his wounds, he twisted around. The person let out a startled yell as he grabbed and pinned whoever it was to the ground. To his surprise, it was a woman, another elf. Terrified, she stared at him.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice low and threatening. Having one hand at her throat, he squeezed.

Shaken by his abrupt use of force, Yssil stared at him. The few counts of hesitation were enough for him to get the upper hand. He used his strength and heavier body to pin her down. As he squeezed her throat shut, she panicked. Desperately she grabbed his hand and tried to pry it away, but his grip was like iron. With a deadly glare, he slowly strangled her. She couldn't breathe; she needed to get away.

A wave of force hit Fenris in the chest, and he was hurled back.

A mage!

Fenris shook his head as he tried to get up. Pain pierced through him from his wounds, agitated by his rough landing. Angry, he venomously glared at the woman, who scrambled quickly backwards until her back hit the wall. She was coughing heavily and drew an old dagger.

Of course, she is a filthy blood mage, he thought. He was about to use his markings and jump towards her. But to his surprise, she just held the dagger in front of her, pointing it towards him. Her hands were shaking.

“You lost consciousness.” she coughed. “I was treating your wounds.”

Not taking his eyes off of her, Fenris quickly scanned his surroundings. They were in what looked like an abandoned broken hut. Outside, night had already fallen, and it was raining heavily. The forest outside was occasionally illuminated by lighting, followed by the rolling sound of thunder. The hut itself was in a sore state, the wood had rotted away in several places, and the roof had several holes where the rain leaked through. A small fire burned not far from him, with a small pot hanging over it. Next to the fire, on some broad leaves, lay a collection of herbs, a bowl with steaming water, a small knife and clean strips of linen. In another corner lay his sword and armor.

“Please, we need to get the arrowhead out.”

He focussed back on her; she looked thin and exhausted like so many other elves. Her skin was olive in colour and slightly darker than his own. Her clothes were a strange mismatched mix of leather and cloth. They didn't fit her properly and were mended in several places. His first thought was that she was Dalish, but she missed the telltale vallaslin. She stared at him, and he could tell she was frightened. She was also missing the air of arrogance and confidence he expected from any mage. What was going on?

“Please, let me treat your wounds.” she lowered her dagger.

“Stay where you are, witch!”

“There is still poison in your wound. If more slavers come to search for their comrades, they will catch us. I can't fight them alone. Please let me help.”

From all the things this mage would say to him, this would have been last on his list. She pointed to the corner. “There are your things. You can hold your weapon if you want, but let me get that arrowhead out.”

Fenris couldn't deny that he was still feeling dizzy, and he could feel the warm wetness of blood seeping out from his waist. His abrupt movements must have reopened the wound. Also, his shoulder burned with pain, and he could feel the arrowhead pierce his flesh with each move he made. There was a numbness radiating down into his right arm. The witch was right; that arrowhead needed to come out.

Quickly he went to his possessions and took his dagger from his belt. He needed a more practical weapon in these close quarters if he needed to take the witch out. Then he stalked over to her, grabbed her dagger and threw it to the other side of the cottage. She flinched from his action, and he could feel the fear in her. Good! She had every reason to be afraid. He sat back down next to the bandages, pointing at her with his dagger.

“Make it quick and no sudden movements. Also, no magic!”

She nodded her head. “I promise no magic.”

Weary of him, Yssil moved closer. After washing her hands, she grabbed the small knife she had prepared.

Fenris readied himself to stab her if she made a wrong move.

“Here, chew these. It will help with the pain.” She offered him a few leaves of elfroot.

“No need.” he growled.

He needed to stay alert and watch her every move. Looking over his shoulder, he observed how she hesitantly touched him. Suppressing the revolt, he felt, from being touched by a mage again, he watched her work. With greater care than he expected, she carefully widened the wound. To her credit, her hands were more steady than he expected. He could practically feel her nervousness. Soon though, the wound was wide enough for her to get hold of the arrowhead.

“This will hurt.�� she took hold of the remaining shaft and started to pull.

Fenris gritted his teeth and groaned as the barbed arrowhead pulled free from his flesh. Immediately Yssil started to press the wound to encourage the bleeding. Then she used the elfroot tea, she had prepared, to flush the wound. Satisfied the injury was clean, and there were no traces of the poison left, she took her boiled needle and threat. Stitching evenly, she slowly closed the wound as best as she could. After that, she bandaged it with a compress of elfroot and healing moss.

“This will help close it faster and prevent an infection.” she explained.

Fenris noticed she was touching him as little as possible during the whole procedure, which he welcomed. It was already bad enough he had to accept the help of an unknown mage.

When she was finished, she moved to wash his other wound, but he grabbed the cloth out of her hands.

“Don't!”

Yssil let go of the cloth and moved back. The more distance there was between them, the better, she thought. She kept a weary eye on him as Fenris cleaned and bandaged the wound himself. The wound at his side was luckily not deep, but the cut was in an inconvenient place and would easily reopen again if he wasn't careful. When he was finished, he put his armor back on. Though she noticed, he didn't let her out of his sight.

At least he hadn't killed her …... yet, she thought.

After cleaning up her meagre healing supplies, she turned her attention to her cooking pot. Carefully she put half of the wild vegetables and some of the rabbit meat in a bowl. It wasn't much, and she hadn't expected she had to share her rations. She lifted the pot with a piece of cloth and brought it towards him.

“Here, you need to eat. I have only one bowl, so don't burn yourself.” she handed him the pot with her spoon.

Retreating back towards the other side of the fire, she sat down and began to eat.

Fenris eyed her wearily, and he waited for her to start to eat first. Occasionally she glanced at him while she ate. She was as wary of him as he was of her. Now in the light of the fire, and taking his time to observe her. He noticed that one of her ears was frayed; someone had crudely cut off the tip with what looked like a blunt knife.

“Aren't you hungry?” she asked him after having already finished half of her meal.

He watched her some more, but nothing happened to her, so he decided it was safe enough for him to eat. It was a simple but good meal. He noticed how hungry he was; with the hunters on his tail, he had little rest, and his last meal was three days ago.

Seeing Fenris finally eat calmed Yssil down. Judging by his demeanour, he was wary of her, but it didn't look like he would attack her. She shouldn't get herself involved. Now she had to deal with the dangers of him and having a group of hunters too close for comfort. Who knows if those hunters weren't also looking for her. She eyed him again; he was still watching her. Could she trust him? He looked tired but was physical in a much better shape than herself. Not that it did matter; if he wanted to harm her, she knew she was in no condition to fight him off.

You made your choice when you yelled to warn him, she reminded herself.

Having finished her bowl, she grabbed her blanket and wrapped it around herself.

“It has been a long day. Good night.” she said to him.

Hoping she would still be alive the following day, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Bewildered, Fenris watched her fall asleep. He couldn't believe she would simply go to sleep after he had attacked her. She was acting like the total opposite of what he expected from a mage. Why had she even helped him? What was her motive, her agenda? Not trusting her, he kept his sword at hand and leaned back against the cottage wall. He wouldn't sleep tonight, but he needed a place to rest, and with the storm outside, this hut was at least dry.

It was in the early morning when Fenris startled out of his sleep. He must have been more tired than he thought. Immediately he searched for the mage, but she was still bundled up in her blanket. Sunlight fell into the hut through the door opening and the holes in the roof. The storm outside had finally settled down. He wondered where in the forest he was; she couldn't have brought him far on her own. He could hear the rushing of a river close by. The mage stirred, and he whipped his head back around to watch her.

Yssil stretched and yawned before she got another coughing fit. Quickly she took a piece of the dried embrium roots she kept in her pouch. There were only a few pieces left; she needed to find another plant soon. With her cough residing, she looked at Fenris, who was staring at her. Slowly she began to pack her things.

“How is your wound?” she asked.

He moved his shoulder, it was a little stiff, but it wasn't hurting as much.

“Better.” he grumbled.

“That is good to hear. If you want, I can try to heal your shoulder.” she offered.

“No!”

Taking out a few herbs, she packed them carefully in a strip of cloth. “Here. You need to change your bandage around midday. You can use these to help with the healing process.”

Saying nothing, he took them and watched as she finished packing. Shouldering her pack and bow, she walked outside. Not wanting to leave her out of his sight Fenris grabbed his sword and bag and followed her.

She was pointing to the left. “Over there is where you were attacked.” she explained. “I hope you will find your way back and won't encounter any more trouble.” she smiled nervously at him. “Goodbye, and stay safe.”

He stared after her as she walked away until she disappeared between the trees. It was strange; she had helped him and didn't demand anything from him in return. He had checked his few belongings while she slept and had found them undisturbed. It didn't matter anyway; she was a mage and couldn't be trusted.

Weary for any signs of trouble, he walked in the direction she had pointed out. After not five minutes, he came to the clearing where the hunters lay. Moving between the corpses, he noticed a few of them had their throats slit. She must have done it, preventing any of the hunters to recover from their wounds. It dawned on him that had she not been there, he would have been captured. It confused him; why had she risked her life to help him? What was her motive? He knew his own value, especially to a mage, but she hadn't touched his lyrium nor asked for any compensation.

Leaving the clearing, he moved back to the road when the sound of a distant scream pricked his ears. He whirled around; it had come from the direction she had disappeared to. He listened but heard nothing further. The sound had been very faint, and if he hadn't been an elf, he doubted he would have heard it. Hearing nothing more, he turned back and began to walk again. Whatever it had been, it had nothing to do with him. He froze when another scream reached his ears.

It didn't take Yssil long to reach the river. She felt anxious; she needed to get deeper into the forest. There were too many traces here left by people, and when a group of slavers suddenly could show up, it was not a place she wanted to stay. If the map she had copied was correct, this forest would expand farther to the south, and any roads would lead to the villages to the west. Hoping she wouldn't encounter anything else, she decided to keep following the river; it was a valuable source of water and food.

After a few minutes, she heard the bleating sound of a deer in distress. Quickening her step, she soon found a deer lying between the trees with two arrows sticking out of its flank. It trashed around, trying to get back on its feet, but it was too weak from blood loss. Judging by the blood and the stirred up ground, it had already been here for a while, slowly succumbing to its wounds. It bleated again, panting heavily. Shocked by her find, Yssil froze and listened, but she couldn't hear anything but the deer and the rushing of the river.

She hesitated for a moment before she approached the deer; judging by its state, the hunter had lost its track. Looking around, she tried to come closer, but the deer only trashed around more. It looked at her with wide, panicked eyes. The deer was too far gone for her to help; there was nothing she could do but end its suffering. With the deer thrashing around, she didn't dare to come close enough to use her knife; she charged her hand with magic.

“At least I can give you a quick death.” she muttered.

A twig snapped behind her.

“Told you the deer had to be somewhere. Never expected to find a mage with it, though.”

Two hunters with bows came through the bushes towards her. To her horror, they both had a flaming sword engraved on their armor.

Templars!

They would catch her; she needed to get away. Springing to her feet, she ran.

Out of nowhere, a force hit Yssil. She screamed as she was knocked to the ground. She couldn't breathe, her mana, her connection to the Fade, her magic was gone. Gasping for air, she saw a third templar stepping out from the bushes in front of her. Roughly he took her left arm and twisted it behind her back; with his other hand, he grabbed her by the neck. He knelt down, placing his armored knee on her back, pinning her to the ground.

“What have we here?” he asked, his voice ice-cold. “A small, wild apostate and here I thought we were only hunting for our dinner tonight.”

With the templars weight pushing her down, Yssil struggled to breathe. She tried to push herself up, but the templar only pressed his knee down further and twisted her arm more.

“Let me go!” she called out.

“And why would we do that?”

The other templars had closed in on her; one had his sword drawn, the other grabbed her free arm and pushed up her sleeve, uncovering her scars. Disgusted, he let her arm fall again.

“A filthy blood mage, that's what she is.”

“I am not!” she shivered in fear. She was caught again. They would lock her up; she would be locked up again.

The templar, with his sword drawn, looked around. “Where there is one maleficar, there is usually more.”

The one holding her gave a hard jerk at her arm, making her scream in pain.

“Where is the rest knife-ear?”

“I am alone!” she cried out.

“You're lying!” he twisting her arm more. When she screamed out in pain, he grabbed her hair and pulled her head up, only to smack it back onto the ground. “Talk! Now!”

“There is no one.” she whimpered, feeling blood trickle down her face.

“We should just kill her and send a report. We can comb out these woods when the reinforcements arrive.”

“Good idea, but before that, let's have some fun.” the templar holding her let go of her head and slipped his hand into her leggings, grabbing her ass.

“NO!” she screamed and struggled, but the templar leaning on her had her trapped. Depleted from her magic, she had no way of escaping.

The sound of someone crashing through the bushes alerted them. The second templar also drew his sword, and they readied themselves.

Fenris jumped out from the woods and stopped, taking in the scene before him.

Two templars stood ready, their weapons drawn; a third had the mage pinned to the ground. Her forehead was bleeding, and she was struggling under the weight of the bigger and armoured man holding her.

Fenris narrowed his eyes when he saw the templars hand inside her leggings. He had always thought the south was blessed with their templars and circles, keeping magic and mages under strict control. He couldn't agree more of the necessity of their existence, but seeing the person that had helped him in pain, wounded and touched against her will gave him pause.

“Who are you!” One of the templars demanded.

“I knew it, where there is one knife-ear, there is always more. They are like rats. Take him for questioning!” the one holding the mage commanded.

“NO! Leave him alone!” Yssil yelled.

The templar holding her gave a jerk to her arm, making her whimper in pain. “Keep quiet knife-ear!”

The other two templars stepped towards Fenris. “By the templar order, you are under arrest.”

Fenris took a step back, unsure what he should do; he knew one thing, there was no way he would let himself get arrested. A sickening crack sounded, accompanied by a piercing scream as the mages arm gave way after the templar gave it another jerk. This made Fenris snap. He rushed towards the templars with a flash, cutting one down before they knew what hit them. The one holding the mage unleashed his power onto her again before jumping to his feet and storming towards him.

Fighting the other templar, Fenris watched with fascination at the effect the templar had on the mage. She was gasping for air as if an invisible fist had hit her, rendering her powerless and weak. With both templars attacking him, he shifted his attention back on his opponents. He needed to be careful, or he would open his wounds again. He jumped to the side as one of the templars tried to rush him. With ease, he swung around and cut the templar in his back. Though more seasoned than the simple bandits he often fought, he soon got the upper hand. After a few well-placed strikes, the second templar fell. What remained was the third templar, who tripped as he tried to retreat, making it easier for Fenris to kill him.

As quickly as the combat erupted, it was over. The forest turned back to its peaceful state with the singing of a few birds, the rustling of the trees and the river's rushing waters. Yssil slowly struggled to sit up, dazed by another smite. She had the feeling she was going to be sick. Whimpering, she cradled her arm that was twisted at an odd angle. She looked up at Fenris.

“Thank you.” she panted, wincing as another shot of pain went through her arm.

Fenris stood still, not knowing what he should do or feel. He wasn't expecting her thanks, nor was he expecting that he himself was helping a mage without an order nor command. He knew he didn't want the templars to take him, but it was more unsettling that he had acted because they were hurting her.

It shouldn't be that way. She was a mage; therefore, the templars had been in their right to hold her, and he had stopped them out of his own free will. Was it because he was conditioned to help a mage in need, or was it something else.

Angry and irritated, he watched as she staggered to her feet, her face twisted by pain. He readied himself when she bent down, taking a dagger from one of the templars. Only to watch her cut and break several branches from a nearby bush. Having only one arm available, it was a little difficult for her, but she managed it. Then she went to the river and submerged her broken arm in it to cool it down.

She looked back at him; her cheeks were wet with tears, and her face was pale from the pain.

“Could you help me, please? I need to set my arm.”

For a moment, he didn't move, then he stepped towards her. She had helped him when he was attacked and wounded; he owed her a favour in return. Promising himself that he would leave once her arm was taken care of, he knelt down beside her.

He took her arm in his hands and looked at her. After taking a few deep breaths, she nodded, and he pulled. She took a sharp breath and squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering. He could feel the bone slip back. Together they bound several of the straight branches against her arm, securing the break in place.

“Thank you.” she exhaled.

“You should heal yourself.” he grumbled, not believing he was suggesting a mage to use her magic.

She looked as surprised at him before shaking her head. “I... I can't.”

She must still be drained by that templar, he thought. Such a drain was a helpful ability, and he wondered how long it would last.

Yssil grabbed one of the elfroot leaves out of her pack and started to chew it to combat the pain. She was shaken, not wanting to know what may have happened if Fenris hadn't come to her aid. She could feel his eyes on her while she removed one of the fallen templars belts to make a sling for her arm. The pouches hanging from it she stuffed in her bag.

Slowly she calmed down, and she started to think. This is a problem, she thought, looking at her arm. With it broken, she would have a hard time continuing her journey through the forest. She looked at the, now bled out, deer not far from her. There was a good chance there were more templars; she needed to move fast. Knowing she had to take another risk, she turned back to Fenris, who was still watching her.

“I...” she walked towards him. “Would you please hear me out?”

He stared at her, his eyes narrowed, but slightly nodded when she waited for him to react.

“I think that we need to get out of here. With both, slavers and templars dead, there will be people coming to look for them, and I don't think those will be people you and I want to meet. I have a proposition. Judging by what I heard yesterday, those slavers were looking for you. These forests reach as far as the coast. I can guide you through them; we would be invisible from prying eyes. I won't lie to you; I will need help the next couple of days.” she gestured to her broken arm that rested in the sling. “Please, could you come with me? I can keep us invisible and fed until we reach the coast. Then we will part ways, and you don't have to see me ever again.”

He stared at her in disbelief.

With him saying nothing, she bit her lip nervously. “I... I will give you some time to think.”

She looked around; with or without him coming with her, she needed to move. Turning to the dead templars, she removed the remaining belts, stuffing them and their pouches into her bag. She would go through the pouches later. She also removed a scabbard with a shortsword and tied it around her waist. One of the templars had dropped a sack, turning it over; it contained some cooking equipment, clothing, an extra blanket and a small healing kit. She took the healing kit and rolled a shirt and the blanket up, and bound it to her own pack. All of it was done a little clumsy with having only one arm to work with, but she managed. At last, she went to the deer and roughly cut a piece of its hind legs off, putting it into her cooking pot. Afterwards, she cut into its guts, exposing them. She turned back to Fenris. “With luck, this will attract enough wildlife to cover our trail.”

Fenris had watched her quietly. He was stunned; she wasn't acting like any mage he had ever met. She said thank you and please like she meant it, and he couldn't detect any deception from her. He was also baffled how she stripped the corpses systematically, not wasting too much time. But he was wondering why she needed that sword. Her actions were so far off from what he was expecting that it threw him for a loop.

Having collected everything she needed, Yssil returned to the river and washed her hands and face. Luckily her wound on her forehead had closed, and feeling it, it wasn't too deep. She was ready to move. Fenris hadn't moved at all and was watching her like a hawk. Well, here goes nothing, she thought.

“If you want to come, then we need to leave now. It should get us enough of a head start to shake off any people that will come to investigate.”

She crossed the river and began to walk along the water to the south. After a few minutes, she turned around and smiled, relieved when she saw him following her.

Mimicking her path Fenris followed her. He didn't know exactly why, but the promise of a journey away from prying eyes was an offer he couldn't refuse. Also, he told himself it was better to keep an eye on this strange mage.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #fenris #fenris x oc #fenris dragon age #garrett hawke #fanfic #The Splintered Road

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blackypanther9 · 3 years

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Part 55 - Tempered and a Plan

To say that Loki was utterly confused was an understatement. You led Loki to the vault, the guards let you both through. He didn't stop to follow you, but still he was totally confused as to why you and him were in there.

"In the Nine Realms existed a dark time. A very dark time. As Odin had Hela as his weapon and personal executioner, no one was ever safe from her. Odin gave Hela her own little army of guards as they stormed all the Nine Realms. These dead warriors got honored and buried deep bellow this very Palace. Did you know, Loki ?", you told him.

He stared at you in shock.

"I did not.", he answered.

"I was there as they got honored here. Not every memory I had was correct. Some were...tempered with. As I got my oldest memories back, the spell broke off and I remember clearly. Still not everything is clear and back, but most. Do you remember the memory of Bor and little Odin ? And most importantly the Golden Palace ?"

"I do. It is not that long ago, that I saw them with Mother and you.", he answered.

"The Golden Palace didn't exist.", you told him.

Loki's head snapped to you in utter shock.

"What ?"

"The Golden Palace. As Bor lived...it didn't exist. It was a normal Palace, made of stone and wood. Bor called that Palace 'The Cold Heart'. He called it like that, because the wood and stones were dark. It was almost black. It gave a dark cold welcome to everything and everyone. Still...I loved that Palace. It is now abandoned. Odin built the Golden Freak show."

"What are you trying to tell me here ?"

"History, Loki. History. Odin hated Cold Heart. Not because it was uncomfortable for him and Frigga, but because he had bad memories in there. Odin...he...he is not what he seems to be. Bor never gave Odin the throne. Odin took it from the rightful King of Asgard and then told lies about him."

"What....?"

"Odin never showed you emotion, because you carry his dead brother's name. Loki. L - O - K - I. There was a Loki before you. That Loki was known as the God of Fire. He was part Frost Giant, part Asir and part Fire Giant. He made truce between these 3 Realms as he was 516 years old. He made peace and there was never war. Loki Borson was the first born of Bor and half blood brother of Odin."

Loki just stared at you in utter shock.

"What happened to Loki Borson ?"

"Odin killed him off.", you answered him simply.

He looked at you in horror.

"Loki had a brother, called Baldr. Baldr was very handsome and an undefeated warrior. He could get stabbed in the heart with a sword and he didn't die. I saw it. One day they tried to hurt him with flowers and the Mistletoe was hurting him badly. Bor instantly broke up the fights and brought Baldr to the healing wing. Loki was worried and Odin looked at Baldr emotionless."

Then you both stopped at one empty spot in the vault and you leaned on the walls with your left shoulder. Loki stood there and listened.

"Odin never showed emotion, if one of his brothers got hurt. Soon Loki and Baldr were of age for the throne, but none wanted it. Bor already chose tho. He chose Loki. Loki was wise, intelligent, sly, clever, protective, caring and strong in his mind. He was something special and far more worthy than just the throne of Asgard. Loki accepted, for his Father, to take the throne and try to be a good King. He said he makes no promises tho and if he fucks up, he will give it back to Bor. They agreed to that."

You tapped your fingers on your right arm.

"Loki did well. The Nine Realms were happy with the new King. Everything went great. Exchanges of foods and drinks, like valuables and all that stuff from all the Nine Realms. The exportations and the help was perfect too. If Jotunheim needed help, Loki instantly helped. If Midgard needed help, he also did instantly. No Realm was abandoned to all their own devices. Loki was a great King and he would still be...if the sudden tragedies wouldn't have happened..."

Loki looked at you in confusion and worry.

"What tragedies ?"

"....I saw telling Odin that Bor died and he wanted to have a funeral...That is wrong. That memory was tempered. I told Loki that he got killed. Loki set the funeral up the next few days and was in mourning. Baldr did the same, but Odin ? Odin wasn't even present. No one knew where he was. Loki and Baldr were thinking that Odin mourned in a different way and couldn't handle the pain. But he didn't mourn at all."

"What did he do then ?"

"He smiled. He was the one who killed Bor."

"Wait ! You had the memory that you did it tho !"

"Tempered, Loki. My memories were tempered."

He stared at you in utter shock and horror.

"Loki wanted to give up the throne, to Baldr. Baldr agreed that he will take over for him, until Loki recovered from the total shock and pain he received. As Loki told Baldr they even argued the first time on whose fault it was that Bor was dead now. They almost broke their passionate love for one another as brothers, but Loki stopped the silly argument and showed Baldr his vulnerability. Argument forgotten and grief and healing was the next step for both of them. Loki was also interested in Frigga and she almost chose him too, Odin hated that and drew her away from Loki. Before Baldr could take the throne...he got murdered. That blew Loki away and he couldn't deal with all the grief and pain. He needed time and foolishly gave Odin the throne."

Loki's eyes widened as he put the pieces together.

"No...", he mumbled.

"Odin was now King. Loki tried spells, Odin created one book with fake spells, tricked Loki into practicing them and he was suddenly Mother of 3 beasts. A huge snake, an 8 - legged horse and a huge wolf. Odin flirted with Frigga all that time, while Loki suffered in shame and disgust. Just what Odin wanted. I knew all of it. Loki searched help from me and Laufey. He was on the bottom of the ground. Then Odin had found a child, Hela. Odin told Loki that he raped a woman slave he enslaved as he conquered Vannaheim. Loki was in great horror. Then he put all the pieces together and knew...Odin did all of these horrors. He told us."

Loki looked at you mortified.

"Hela was always scared of Odin. He made her kill as she was a little kid. She always ran to Loki and told him and he tried to get Odin to back down, but it wasn't worth it. Odin threatened Loki with his beasty children, Odin practically forced upon Loki. What would the people think, if Odin told them about his schemes ? They would want his death. So Loki shut up and was powerless. Still, Loki was a huge danger to Odin, so he had a wicked idea. He made Loki marry Sigyn and they had 3 more children. Hel, Vali and Nari. Vali and Nari were normal and owned Loki's and Sigyn's magic. Hel...was not normal. She was half dead and half alive. That is how Helheim got created. Odin banished her on an empty planet and she made herself a home. Then he took Sleipnir, the 8 - legged horse, from Loki, then Fenris, the big wolf, and last but not least...Jormungandr, the huge snake."

Loki looked at her in horror.

"Jormungandr got banished to Midgard. Fenris gifted to Hela as pet. Sleipnir is Odin's own horse."

Loki's eyes were as wide as dinner plates of Asgard.

"THAT IS SLEIPNIR ?!", Loki yelled in utter horror.

"Hush, Loki."

He shut up and continued to listen.

"Loki was soon on the run from Odin and his very own people. Odin told them that Loki was Mother of 4 beasts. Odin told them, that he saved Asgard and that Loki murdered Baldr and Bor. They believed Odin and hunted Loki down. In the end they catched him and he received the Serpent Punishment. He was bound on rocks and before he got the snake above himself, with painful venom, Odin showed up with Sigyn, Vali and Nari. Loki knew what he will do. He begged him to leave them alone. Odin stabbed Sigyn dead, making Loki yell in agony. Then a big wolf in chains entered the cave and bit Vali and Nari in half, making Loki screech in utter agony, pain, anger and hatred. He cursed Odin and swore to make him pay for that."

Loki was staring at you utterly mortified, shocked and disgusted. He felt sick and wanted to vomit.

"Then the snake was put above him, torturing Loki until his death. The venom was so painful that when Loki writhed, the whole Nine Realms knew that he suffered. All the Nine Realms knew that Odin lied and Loki would have never done that, but he didn't care. He killed them mercilessly. The problem was...as Loki got his unfair punishment...Odin deleted all our memories and tempered with them. No one remembers Loki and Baldr. They all think that Odin was an only - child."

"But now you could kill Odin. For treason."

You shook your head.

"I can't. As soon as I kill Odin...Hela will come and cause Ragnarok upon us. We need Loki Borson back. He knows how to fix this mess."

"How do you want to resurrect someone from the dead ? That is impossible.", Loki told you.

"The 3 books are making it possible, Loki."

"The 3 books ?"

"Do you remember ? I gave you one. The book called: 'Magical book of illusions and summoning'. I thrusted it into your hands and told you to hide it good, until I or Agnus need it back. I need it back, and its brothers.", you told him serious.

"Names of those ?"

"The second one is called 'Magical book of Death' and the other is called 'Magical book of Life'. With all three of them, they combine themselves and become another book. The real book. The book called...'The magical book of the Undead.' Can you follow me, what I want from you ?"

Loki's eyes widened in great shock.

"You can resurrect with the book."

"No Loki. There are rules in that book. Rules the God of the Undead has to keep. We can summon him with those books !"

Loki just stared at her in utter shock.

"That is why they were so important ! That is why I needed you to hide one and protect it ! Odin knows about that ! He would destroy them, so Loki Borson will never return from the dead !", you told him.

Loki was gob smacked, shocked and flabbergasted at the same time, at that.

"You gave me a very powerful and dangerous artifact, to make me protect something even more dangerous and powerful...I can't believe it..."

"I trusted you enough for that, Lo. You were my last hope."

Loki looked at you in adoration, then he pulled you close to himself and kissed you. You were surprised at first, but soon kissed him back with the same carefulness and passion, Loki gave you. Soon you both parted and panted softly.

"I love you.", he said.

"I love you too.", you told him softly.

Then you summoned a pickaxe and hit the floor, until it gave out and a big hole was to see. Loki gulped.

"What is that ?"

"That is the grave of the honored soldiers of Hela. Even her fucking wolf is down there. Dead but still."

You took Loki's hand and looked at him.

"Do you trust me ?"

Loki looked at you and nodded softly. Then you pulled him to the edge and jumped, pulling Loki down with yourself. He cried out in shock, until you put a spell on yourselves, to fly down softly. Soon you touched ground, softly. Another spell and the whole grave was filled with light. Loki gasped in terror. Many dead soldiers and a huge dead wolf. Loki was terrified to say the least.

"Hela will return one day and revive them. If that happens...we will lose. She is the Goddess of Death. She can't die and as soon as she steps one foot into Asgard...her powers are limitless and she will kill everything in her path. She draws her powers right from here. And with the Eternal Flame, she will be able to revive them. Not even all the Einherjar could defeat her. She would kill them all without a second thought."

"Like the Valkyries..."

"Exactly like them. We need Loki Borson back as fast as possible. I know where he is hung. I know his grave, but we need the books."

"Where are they ?"

You looked at Loki.

"One with my long lost helmet and the other...just a pure golden soul can find."

"Well that last one will be tricky then.", Loki mumbled.

"No it will not be, Loki. You will see. Trust me."

"Fine. Then let us go and search them."

You nodded, teleported out, regenerated the floor and then took Loki's hand, storming out of the vault.

"We need our horses. I will take Blackmeane and you will take Mischief. We have to go now, before Odin will know."

"Blackmeane never liked anyone."

"Well, she is my horse. Of course she hates others trying to claim her."

Loki looked at you again in shock.

"You really need to stop to be shocked, Lo. Now hurry up and follow me."

With that you both stormed off, to the stalls.

Part 56

Masterlist with all Chapters of this Story click here !

#Marvel #Thor #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki x Reader

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nalgenewhore · 4 years

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masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The moon cut through Lorcan’s bedroom window. He shivered slightly and turned over in bed, reaching for the warm body beside him. He couldn’t feel her and fucking whined, like a gods-damned dog, when his searching motions didn’t find her. “Sweetheart,” Lorcan mumbled, “c’mere, I need you.”

He still couldn’t reach her and sighed, slowly sitting up. As he scrubbed his eyes, Lorcan half turned and lifted his hand to rest it on her back, “Elide–” he fell silent when his hand thudded dully on the mattress.

Lorcan looked more carefully, realising the space beside him was… empty.

Fuck, Elide had to have snuck out at some point. Sheets were still warm, so she couldn’t have been far. Even in the summer, Terrasen nights were cold and she’d be freezing. Lorcan figured he could catch her and convince her to come back, or at least so he could walk with her.

He got out of bed and stalked out of his bedroom. His straight path to the door was paused when he noticed a figure sitting on the windowsill. “Elide? Is that you?” His voice grated through his throat.

She sniffled, “I’m fine. Just- it was just a dream. Go back to bed, stupid.”

Lorcan didn’t listen to her - he hardly ever did - and walked over to her. He did it slowly, noticing how she had shaken when he first stormed out. When he got to her, he crouched down in front of her and pushed his hair back with one hand. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, reaching his hand up to cup her cheek. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Elide wept, resting her head in his hand.

Lorcan held in his sigh and stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, “It’s ok, Elide. No one’s gonna hurt you here, it’s just me.”

“Yeah, well,” she hiccuped, “you’re a giant. You could hurt me if you want to.”

He shook his head, “I don’t know if you know this, but you’re kinda a badass, Lochan. Even more than me, and that’s saying a lot.” Elide rolled her eyes and chuckled quietly. As he sat down, his hand dropped to her right calf. Elide tensed, but Lorcan could feel scar tissue. Swallowing once, Lorcan flicked his eyes to it. Her smooth, alabaster skin was unblemished and perfect, save for the scars that traveled across her ankle. “Did you dream about your injury?”

Elide nodded when he looked back up at her, “Yeah.”

Lorcan’s heart stuttered with guilt. If he hadn’t asked her about it the previous night, Elide would’ve been fine. But instead, he had brought up old, painful memories and put her in an unfamiliar place. He was a fucking bastard. “I’m sorry,” Lorcan whispered. “Do you want me to drive you back to the castle?”

She shook her head, sniffling once, “No. I want to go back to sleep.”

“Ok,” he said, calmly standing up. Elide flinched again and Lorcan clenched his jaw so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he chipped a tooth. Vernon Lochan was living on borrowed fucking time and Lorcan had half a mind to remind him of that. “We can do that.”

“You’ll stay with me?” Elide asked, looking up at him in… hope. It tore at his heart. Tentatively, she reached her hand out. Her fingers trembled and Lorcan took her hand.

He nodded, pushing his hair back again with his free hand, “For as long as you want, Elide.” Elide slowly stood up and Lorcan, without hesitation, scooped her up into his arms. He went to walk back, but paused, looking down at the woman he held, “Is this ok?”

Nodding, Elide rested her head against his shoulder. She didn’t say a word, but he felt her relax into him.

Lorcan walked into his bedroom. He set her down and settled beside her on his back. Lorcan didn’t move to touch her, to let her choose what she wanted to do. Elide shifted slowly and carefully. She was tense as if he would react violently to anything she did.

She turned away from him and then reached back to grip his forearm. Elide pulled it across her stomach, making him follow and curl around her. They fit effortlessly together. Elide’s head was tucked beneath his chin and as she pressed herself into his chest, Lorcan slid his arms around her. He had the urge to kiss the top of her head and he did so, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo, “You good, sweetheart?”

Elide hummed and smiled. She turned her face to kiss his shoulder, “I’m good. Now.”

He was thankful for the darkness and the fact that Elide was facing away from him as his cheeks heated, “Good.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide woke up with her face cradled in the crook of a tattooed arm. Her nose was smushed against Lorcan’s bicep and her eyelashes fluttered against his skin as she opened her eyes.

A smile grew over her face as she studied him. Lorcan was breathing evenly. His nose twitched when strands of hair slid over his face and Elide laughed softly, reaching up to push it away. Her light touch had him humming and opening his eyes.

Lorcan looked down at her, curled in his arms and quietly happy. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice lower and hoarser than usual. It had Elide curling her toes, pressing her face back into his chest.

“Hello,” she whispered. Elide smiled again, knowing she had nowhere to be. The wedding wasn’t for another four days and… the wedding. She wasn’t supposed to be here and definitely not here, waking up in another man’s bed and arms.

The realisation seemed to hit them at the same time as Lorcan stiffened and let his arm fall away. Elide slowly sat up, swinging her legs to the side of the mattress. She thought about making a joke on how her toes just barely touched the thick carpet beneath the bed, but it wasn’t the time. “I should go.”

The bed dipped as Lorcan stood, “Can I get you a coffee for your troubles?”

She chuckled, shaking her head as she too stood and turned to face him. “I shouldn’t. I’ve been away for too long now.”

“Of course,” he said. Lorcan tossed her the hoodie she was wearing the night before. Sleeping next to him was like sleeping next to a furnace so, eventually, Elide had had to rip it off and throw it onto the chair in the corner.

Elide caught her hoodie and tugged it on, pushing her hair back and redoing her ponytail. She dug her phone out of her pocket, squinting at the slew of notifications she had missed. Fenrys had called a few times, before giving up and sending her a text hoping she was safe.

Aelin had called, Lysandra too. Rowan had just texted her, telling her to call him if she needed help.

“Have they sent out a search party yet?”

She laughed, “No, not yet.” Elide pocketed the device and they both left the room.

Lorcan started making coffee as Elide used the bathroom.

By the time she was done, the rich scent of a dark roast filled the air. Elide looked forlornly towards his mug and Lorcan smirked, “You want some?”

She was already grabbing another mug and filling it halfway. Elide slid into the seat opposite his and drank deeply, sighing happily at the reviving elixir. “Oh, I love you.”

“Talking to me or the coffee there, sweetheart?”

Elide scoffed, kicking his shin hard under the table. Lorcan jolted, a hiss of pain freed from his lips. “The coffee, of course. You, I loathe.”

His eyes glowed with delight as he sipped his coffee. Elide matched his sip, blaming the warmth in her stomach on the hot drink and nothing, nothing else.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan was on his third cup as Elide slid her shoes on. He leaned against the wall next to the door, holding it open for her when she stood up.

Elide stepped out onto the little porch and spun back to face him as he leaned against the doorframe. She flashed him a blinding grin, so big her nose scrunched and her irises disappeared. Lorcan smiled, still not letting his teeth show, but his eyes said everything the grin didn’t. “Whatever will they say, sweetheart? A betrothed duchess-to-be spending her night with the man trying to steal her throne? Scandalous.”

She laughed, smacking his shoulder. On impulse, Elide rose on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. She lost her balance and quickly, Lorcan caught her with his arms around her waist. Elide rested her hands on his chest, idly tracing the line of ink that came over his shoulder, “I had a nice time, Salvaterre. You might say the same.”

Lorcan laughed and leaned down. A shiver went down her spine when his lips brushed against her cheekbone and then the shell of her ear. Elide turned her head to the side, distracted by a flash of movement that caught her eye.

He started to whisper something, but Elide was frozen. She stared, agape, directly at the camouflaged photographer and the big, black camera they carried. Immediately, her heart sunk and her throat tightened to the point of pain, “Oh my gods.”

She pushed Lorcan away, looking up at him with the most heartbroken expression he had ever seen. “You fucking bastard.”

“Sweetheart—“

Elide shoved his chest, “Don’t you dare call me that right now. How could you?” She pointed at the paparazzi, tears stinging her eyes, “You’ve ruined everything.”

Lorcan followed her pointed finger, stiffening when he saw the photographer. “El, I didn’t know—“

“Fuck you,” she whispered, slapping his arm away when he tried to reach for her.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t fucking know,” he said, “I didn’t tell anyone!”

Elide shook her head as she backed away from him, “Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t talk to me, just leave me alone.”

The light in his eyes shattered and he took one single step after her retreating form, “Elide…”

She didn’t bother sticking around for whatever bullshit he would spew. Elide took one last look at the cameraman and fled, sprinting back up the path Lorcan had led her down last night.

As she passed the curve, she almost laughed at herself for thinking what she had thought. Elide pushed herself faster, and faster, and faster still.

There were no cars on the highway as she flew down the shoulder, quickly eating up the kilometre between Lorcan’s house and the palace.

Her throat was burning, her lungs greedily gulping down any and all oxygen they could get. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she lied to herself, pretending it was because of the sting of the crisp morning air.

She cut away onto a path that wound through the wall of trees and dense forest to the back entrance. The trail was bouncy and soft beneath her feet as Elide raced through, the flora a green blur to her.

Elide held back sobs, knowing if she broke down anywhere other than her room, the media would find her and pictures of her breakdown would be splashed across every paper and magazine. She refused to give Lorcan the satisfaction.

The palace walls came into view and Elide almost collapsed in relief. She didn’t slow down at all as she neared the back gate and slammed it open. Glancing around the small courtyard, she didn’t see a single person as she sprinted through to the door.

Elide ran to the back stairs, racing up. As she neared the top step, a stabbing pain shot up her leg through her ankle and Elide tripped.

She was sent sprawling across the floor. Her chin slammed into the marble and Elide cried out in pain. Gritting her teeth against the feeling, she pushed herself up to sitting.

Elide leaned back against the wall, her vision blurring. She couldn’t hold back anymore and sobbed quietly, dropping her head into her hands. Her shoulders shook, her body racked with sobs.

“Oh gods, Elide?”

She only cried harder at Fenrys’ voice, not looking up until she felt a presence kneeling before her. There was only concern shining on her friend’s face as Fenrys reached out to gently tug Elide’s hands away, “Elide, love.”

“I got played,” Elide whispered, sniffling sadly. “He played me.” It was as if her heart literally cracked in her chest and it cracked so violently, Fenrys had to have heard it.

Fenrys pulled her up to standing, letting Elide lean against him. The young lord took most of Elide’s weight as they walked slowly down the hall to Elide’s rooms.

When they were safely inside, Elide wrapped her arms around Fenrys’ neck, pressing her face into his shoulder, “I’m such an idiot, Fen. I’m- I’m so fucking dumb.” Fenrys just held her tighter, cupping the back of Elide’s head and slowly rocking her side to side. “I- I went- and then-” Elide choked, her words tumbling over themselves as she tried to explain. She needed to explain.

Fenrys just shushed her softly and guided her to her bedroom. Elide only let go to climb into her bed, but the moment Fenrys sat down next to her, she was clinging to him like she would be forever lost without him.

“I got played,” she repeated dumbly. Tears slid down her cheeks anew, her face crumpling, “Why would he do that, I thought—” Elide cut herself off, unable to voice her foolish hopes.

He lied to me.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“El,” Fenrys said, gently nudging her.

Elide hummed, sniffling sadly, “Yeah?”

His face was tight, almost wincing in guilt, “Um, Aelin’s coming to see you. She’s… worried.”

Elide panicked, her breaths coming faster and faster. She sat up, already looking for something to hide behind, or something that would make her smaller, “Fen- I- I’m in so much trouble, I-” she cut herself off, already scratching her arm. “You have to help me leave, she’ll murder me, she’ll be so mad–”

“Hey, hey, Lochan,” Fenrys soothed her, gently gripping her hands. “Breathe in with me, love.”

He inhaled deeply, through his nose, exhaling exaggeratedly through his mouth. Elide copied him, closing her eyes and trying to focus.

“Aelin is worried, ok? She’s been worried the whole night. All she wants to do is make sure that you’re ok. That’s all.”

Elide nodded, still breathing slowly, “You’ll stay, right?”

Fenrys nodded, pulling her back into his side, “‘Course I will.” She curled into his side, grateful that he held onto her hands. When he moved slightly, Elide panicked, lifting up to stop him. Fenrys shook his head, making a soothing sound, “I’m just gonna text Aelin to let her know where we are. I’m staying the whole time, honeybunch.”

Elide smiled at the nickname, nodding as she settled back down.

“Everything will work out, Ellie,” Fenrys said, resting his chin on top of her head.

She nodded again, not saying a word.

Not even five minutes later, her bedroom door slammed open and in shot a flash of gold. Before Elide could prepare herself, Aelin had wrapped her arms around her, squeezing the breath out of Elide.

Elide hugged her back, pressing her face into Aelin’s shoulder, “Ae–”

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Aelin cried, pulling back and cupping Elide’s face. “I was so worried, love! I couldn’t sleep. Come here, let me have a look at you.” The queen twisted Elide’s head this way and that, virtually checking every strand of hair on Elide’s head. She gripped Elide’s jaw, checking over her face. “I’m so glad you’re back, oh, love.”

For the first time in hours, it seemed, Elide smiled, gently gripping Aelin’s wrists, “I’m ok, Ae. I’m not hurt.” Physically. “I’m sorry for wrecking everything.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, shaking her head, “There’s nothing I can’t fix. But,” she became serious, pulling back slightly, but still, her hands stayed on Elide’s face, gentle, soothing, “you have to tell me what happened. We all need to be on the same page, to show a united front.”

Elide nodded, blowing out a long breath.

“Good, now, let’s get to my office. We’ll meet everyone, get you some food, and figure this whole thing out, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Elide agreed, smiling when Aelin leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The footage was grainy and shaking, but Elide could still clearly see herself standing on Lorcan’s porch, smiling up at him.

Nobody made a sound as they all watched, faces set and serious. Her stomach rolled with nausea as Elide watched herself rock onto her tiptoes to kiss Lorcan’s cheek. Smoothly, almost too smoothly, when she stumbled, his arms slid around her waist.

They looked like a couple, saying good-bye in the morning. It looked natural and that was the thing that disgusted Elide the most. That she looked comforted in his arms. That she gave him a soft, shy grin.

In that grin said everything Elide would never be able to tell Fenrys. Things neither of them would be able to feel.

She fussed over her outgrown nails, steadily peeling and picking the iridescent acrylic off. Her nail artist would be irritated with her, for ruining all the hard work she’d put in and because improper removal damaged the natural nail.

Elide felt her cheeks heat as they continued watching. On screen, Lorcan leaned down and Elide turned her head to the side, her face draining of all colour as her eyes locked on the camera.

She shoved him away, snapping something harsh before slapping his hand away. Lorcan was the epitome of hurt shock, his brows furrowing in an effort to hide his pain.

When Elide backed away, he followed her for one step. She was shaking her head, her hands curled into fists to stop the shaking.

The footage ended before she could turn and run away. Images of her and Fenrys at various events, wearing bright smiles, flashed over the screen as Remelle’s affected voice rang out, “It seems not all is sunshine and smiles for the betrothed couple! Elide Lochan, Lady of Perranth, was seen looking very cozy with Lorcan Salvaterre, the man challenging her claim as the future duchess.”

The photos faded away to reveal Remelle sitting behind her desk, her hands resting clasped on the sleek glass surface. “The royal family has never been drama free, but this generation of leaders seem to have little care. The queen herself is not shy of the camera and has no doubt influenced little Elide–”

Elide reached over, turning off the TV before Remelle could pin the blame on Aelin. The others let out long breaths, nodding slightly to themselves. Lysandra spoke first, “Well. That is… something.” Elide shot her an apologetic look, but the green-eyed beauty waved her off with an excited beam, “Please, I live for this stuff! We haven’t had a scandal in quite some time.”

Elide chuckled humorlessly, “I’m glad I can be of some use.”

Lysandra nodded distractedly, getting lost in her work. “I’ve already drafted a public statement from you and Fen and called some people.”

The some people sounded ominous, but Elide didn’t comment on it.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide trudged back to her rooms, feeling… drained. She’d told her friends that she didn’t need them to stay with her and luckily, they hadn’t pushed the issue.

She just knew, that if one of them was with her, they’d try to distract her, to make her smile and Elide… she wanted to be sad. For a little while, she didn’t want to pretend that everything was alright.

Nothing was alright. She was alone and painfully reminded of that as the doors to her rooms shut, the sound seeming to echo through the emptiness of the hallway and all subsequent rooms.

She kicked off her slippers, not caring where they landed. Elide walked down to her bedroom and opened the door. For a while, she stood on the threshold, unmoving.

The ball of fur that was her dog came loping over, lovingly bumping her nose into Elide’s leg. Bear whined softly, her tail hanging low for once.

Elide idly patted Bear’s large head. As she stared into her bedroom, all she could see was his room. In the place of her bed was Lorcan’s, but instead of neat, crisp sheets and fluffed pillows, it was her wrapped up in his arms.

Eyes filling with tears, Elide blinked rapidly. She turned on her toes, pulling the door shut. Anywhere would be better than her room. She walked into her living room and grabbed the soft wool blanket tossed casually over the chair.

With the blanket wrapped securely around her shoulders, Elide curled up in the bay window, blankly staring out at the grounds. Bear hopped up, pushing her head into Elide’s lap. Elide laughed slightly, leaning down to kiss the top of Bear’s head, “Hi, bub. I’m sorry I was gone last night.” She scratched Bear’s floppy ears, “I’m happy to see you.”

The dog turned her big eyes on Elide, huffing slightly.

Elide kissed her dog’s head once more before she leaned back against the wall.

She watched the sky and after a while, she couldn’t hold back anymore. Her tears overflowed, spilling down her cheeks without a sound. Elide weeped for her parents, for her family. She cried for Ress and for Fenrys, for everything she had carelessly ruined.

Though she would never admit it, to herself or anyone else, some of her tears were for Lorcan. She knew he had lied about his motives, but his father and his mom, his sisters… none of that was false.

And because of that, maybe because of their broken stories, Elide cried for the children they had once been.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

A migraine threatened to throb behind her eyes. Elide lifted her head from the window pane she’d fallen asleep on. The movement had her wincing and hissing in discomfort.

Very carefully, she got up and walked to her bathroom for a glass of water. The cool drink helped ease the pain. Elide sighed, grabbing a cloth to run under the tap. She pressed it to her forehead, sighing again in relief.

She washed her face, cleansing away tear stains and remnants of mascara. Elide patted her face dry. As she contemplated doing a face mask, somebody knocked on her door.

Elide sniffed, quickly redoing her messy bun and fixing up her hoodie so she could at least pretend that she hadn’t been crying pathetically all day.

Bear was lying in front of the hall stand when Elide walked out. Whoever it was knocked again, harder and sharper. “Anneith above, calm yourself, I’m coming,” Elide grumbled, rubbing her eyes as she opened the door.

Her eyes landed on a black t-shirt stretched across an unfairly defined chest. The sight had her breath hitching and her throat aching with tears even before she looked up and saw Lorcan. Elide blocked out the remorse and sincerity shining in his eyes, not trusting him. “I meant what I said, Lorcan,” she snapped before he could open his mouth. “I don’t want to see you.”

“I know, but, El, please, I didn’t know they were there. I promise,” he said.

Elide shook her head, closing the door. Lorcan put his hand on it, so she couldn’t close it completely, “I would never do that to you, you- please. Believe me.”

“How am I supposed to believe you, Lorcan,” she asked, voice broken. “The first moment we met was a lie! Why should I believe anything you say to me? How can I believe anything that happened was true?” Elide was determined not to cry, but tears were brimming in her eyes. His expression changed when he saw them, something breaking.

“Sweetheart…” Lorcan said.

“Stop calling me that, you don’t get to call me that anymore,” Elide whispered, her lips trembling. “Tell me why I should believe a single word you say.”

“Because I would never do that to you. And if you think I would… you know nothing about me.”

She sniffled, wiping her eyes, “I guess I know nothing about you, then.” Without another word, Elide closed the door just as the first tears spilled down her cheeks.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan pressed his hand against the door, the other fisting by his side. He would never do that to her. He couldn’t stomach the idea of hurting her.

He didn’t want the title and Lorcan cursed himself for not telling her he was leaving last night. His flight home was booked for the day of the wedding. Elide and Fenrys’.

Lorcan had to let her go. With a deep breath, he spoke, “Sweetheart, I’m… I’m leaving. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He closed his eyes, cursing himself for being such an ass. “I meant to tell you last night, but I’m leaving. Perranth. I don’t want the title and I’m not contesting anything.”

For a second, he waited - to see if she would answer, to see if she would ask him to stay or if she would…

If she would tell him she loved him.

And she didn’t. There wasn’t a peep from inside the doors and Lorcan nodded to himself, wondering why he thought she would answer. He stepped away, his shoulders curving inwards.

When he turned to walk away, he saw Aelin standing at the end of the hall, a tray of tea and food in her hands. “Ae–”

“You love her,” she said quietly, looking between Lorcan and the door. “You’re in love with–”

“Aelin, please. Don’t,” Lorcan whispered, shaking his head as he walked down the hall. “I don’t need to ruin anything more than I already have. Elide is happy and that-” he choked slightly, clearing his throat, “and her happiness is the only thing I care about.”

The queen looked in dismay, “Lorcan, you make her happy. You do,” she insisted when Lorcan laughed humorlessly, “I have known that girl her entire life and even when she’s mad at you, you make her happy. I love her more than anything–”

“So do I,” he admitted defeatedly as he rubbed his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I get to have her, ok? She doesn’t have to love me back and why should she? Everything she just fucking said is true.”

“But–”

Lorcan shook his head, “Not buts, your Majesty. I’m letting her go. I’m letting the title go. She has Fenrys and they make each other happy–”

“You could make her happier,” Aelin said.

He gave her a look, continuing his point, “They make each other happy and that matters more than me. She matters more than me. Fenrys matters more than me.”

For his sake, Lorcan supposed, Aelin held her tongue, “When are you leaving?”

“In three days. I’m gonna go home for a while, figure some stuff out.” Lorcan was looking forward to seeing his mother, his grandma. His sisters, too, and the tribe.

“Will you come to the wedding?”

Lorcan snorted, “I don’t think either of them want me there, so no.” He shifted on his feet, looking down at the floor. “Ae… can you do something for me?”

“What is it?”

He glanced back at Elide’s doors, “Can you tell Fen I won’t be there? And say… good-bye to everyone.”

Aelin nodded tightly, “Yeah. I can.”

“Thank you,” Lorcan said. “I’ll let you go.” He went to turn and paused, “Um, last night… Elide had a nightmare. She said it was about her injury. She was pretty messed up about it, so just make sure she’s ok, please?”

“Of course. Tell your grandma hi for me. And your sisters too. And your mom.”

Lorcan nodded, stepping around her and walking away, even though every step drove the spike deeper and deeper into his heart.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“El…” Aelin started as she walked out onto the balcony. She put the tray down on the low table.

“Is he gone,” Elide asked bluntly, leaning against the railing.

Aelin sighed, “Elide.”

She turned around, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, “What?” Her cousin looked at her with an unimpressed look, the light in her eyes determined. Elide stopped her before she could say anything, “Ace, can you just… not? I can’t think or talk about him anymore.”

It would break her heart clean in two, decimating the pieces Elide had worked so hard to stitch back together. “Please,” she whispered, “Aelin, don’t make me talk about him and don’t talk about him to me, because I am barely holding it together and he’s gone now and I just… I deserve to be at peace.”

“Are you at peace, El? Without him?”

The lie tasted foul in her mouth, her body almost physically reacting to it, “Yes. I am.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an:.........would it help if i said i was sorry. i didn’t mean it.

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @ladyverena @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @januarystears @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @magicalunicorngypsy @elriel4life @sensitiveillyrian

#knowing me knowing you #kmky chapter eleven #princess diaries au #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore #oopsie daisy #....it's not over tho hehe 🤭

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