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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 4 years

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How to hold a sword - Geralt of Rivia x Reader - Part 1 of 2

Summary: You are bored with your life and want more. Luckily, Geralt of Rivia visits the town one day.

Requested by: @just-antiyou “could i request a geralt x reader where the reader is slightly wealthy but hates it and wants to be tougher than she looks so she hites geralt to teacher her and he slowly falls for her but she doesnt comprehend why HER? maybe this made no sense im so sorry i love ur writing pls an thank u stay safe” --> Hope you like it! I decided to make two parts out of the story! <3

Words: 2030 Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x fem!Reader Warnings: none

„Stop wasting my time. “

„Come on! I can pay you!”

“Sure you can.”

“Yes! Don’t you believe me?”

“Stop bothering me and go home.”

“I have coin! Here!”

Finally, the Witcher turned around when he heard the rattling of the coins in your small bag as you held it up. He quickly grabbed your hand, forcing it down. “Are you mad or do you enjoy the idea of being robbed,” he scolded you.

He was right. You were standing in the middle of a busy street, merchants and farmers passing you by as they made their way home from the market. The sun was already beginning to set and the first drunks stumbled out of the tavern to your right. Two working girls shrieked when a man fell against them, landing face down on one of the their bosoms, and angrily pushed him away.

You let the small bag slip back into the pocket of your coat. “I have coin!”, you repeated yourself.

“Where’d you get that?”, he demanded to know. “Did you steal it?”

You snorted. Asshole. “My family owns half the town. Did you not recognize this?!” You pointed at your necklace with the family emblem brightly visible.

His eyes only grazed shortly over it. “I’m not from here.”

“Right, because you’re Geralt of Rivia, a Witcher, a famous one – so give me one reason why you would decline my offer?”

“Teaching spoilt girls how to hold a sword is not in my job description.”

“First of all,” this time you pointed your finger at him. “I’m not a girl, I’m a woman, so start treating me like one! And secondly, as far as I’m concerned, there is no monster to kill for you at the moment.”

“There’s always monsters to kill.”

“Witcher!” A frustrated sigh escaped your mouth. What was his problem?

Geralt looked at you intensely, his eyes wandering from your face to your pocket, where the coins were stowed, back to your face. He pondered about what the offer would truly mean – letting another person come too close to him rarely resulted in anything good. People around him tend to end up hurt or heartbroken or dead. The last person to experience this had been Jaskier. Years of traveling together and it ended in Geralt chasing him away, blaming him for things that weren’t his fault. This happened a few years back and since then, the two of them had rekindled their friendship, but still. His point remained unchanged.

However, this could be different. You didn’t seek him out to become friends. It was nothing more than a job. Not to mention that your comment about him not having anything better to do at the moment was true. He could really use the coin. Before Geralt was able to rethink this, he wiped his eyes in a tiring and annoyed matter. “Fine.”

Your face lit up instantly and a big smile appeared on it. “Yes? Oh thank you!”

“Ten days.”

“That’s a good start!”, you exclaimed happily.

“It’s not a start, it’s all I’m offering,” he corrected you. Were you always this cheerful or just when you got your way? “What do I get out of it?”

“Three coins for each day.”

The Witcher raised an eyebrow. There was far more in that bag of yours and you both knew it. “Eight.”

“Four.”

“Seven.”

“Witcher!”

“Six then.”

“Five.”

“Deal,” he nodded.

Your smile grew even wider. “Thank you! This is fantastic!”

The only acknowledgment you got for that statement was a low grunt. He wasn’t so sure about it being a fantastic idea. “Meet me here tomorrow when the sun rises. Do you own a sword?”

He let out a sigh when you shook your head. “Of course you don’t. Doesn’t matter. Tomorrow, when the sun rises! Understood?”

“Understood!”

***

You arrived early the next morning. The excitement for the days to come was too overwhelming so after hours of tossing and turning and occasionally falling into a half slumber, you decided to cut the night short.

You nervously looked around you. Despite the late (or rather early) hour, the street was buzzing with people. Mostly drunks but no less intimidating. It was the second time you visit this part of the town as your mother would forbid you to come here. “It’s a dangerous place,” she always said, “nothing to find there except for criminals and whores.” Observing the people around you, she might had a point.

Growing up in one of the richest families of the town was a blessing and a curse at the same time. Nothing seemed to be missing from your life – dresses and jewelry, parties and royal receptions – everything was there in arm’s reach. You never had to work a day in your life and never went to bed on an empty stomach. Still, you were unhappy. You were born into this world with no purpose. All you had to do was look pretty, agree to a beneficial marriage and produce heirs. Your father didn’t allow you to be something else, something more. You never asked for much, knowing he’d deny your requests, except for learning how to fight and defend yourself. It was a simple desire but you hoped it would give you something. What, you weren’t sure. A purpose maybe? Indubitably, he refused you.

A sense of guilt and shame rushed through you. It happened every time as you were aware that the problems were nothing more than luxurary at best. After all, what gave you, a privileged girl with no troubles, the right to complain when there were people starving and dying?

“Well, ‘ello there, aren’t you a pretty one.”

You shrieked at the slurring words coming from your left. A man, smelling of beer and piss, reeled towards you. A disgusted look on your face, you took a step back.

“What’s that face, pretty one? Don’t cha think I’m pretty too?”

“Fuck off!”

A second voice made you turn around in surprise. Geralt of Rivia was standing in the doorway of the tavern, glaring at the drunk. Even in his current state of mind, the man sensed that Geralt wasn’t someone he wanted to bother, so he spit out undefinable curses and stumbled away.

“Thank you,” you said to the Witcher. He looked different this morning. Rested and bathed, you figured and realized his attractiveness for the first time since you met him. Last night you were more focused on convincing him to train you. Tall, broad, with his glooming golden eyes and white hair that fell loosely on his shoulders – only a blind person could deny his good looks.

Geralt eyed you up and down. “Now why would you wear that?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion and looked down at your blue dress and fine cloak that hugged your figure. “What?”

“You want to learn how to fight, am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not.”

“And you’re gonna do that in a dress?”

“I’ve seen women fight in dresses.”

“But not in fucking ball gowns.”

“This is not a ball gown!” You protested.

He rolled his eyes and started walking. “Whatever, come on. We have a long day ahead.”

You followed, struggling to keep up with him. He didn’t seem to care all that much. “Why do you sleep here?” You pointed back to the run-down pension.

“What do you mean?”

“With the money I’m paying, you can afford better … places.”

“I like it here.”

“You like sleeping around these creatures?”

Geralt didn’t answer instead he shot you a glance that made your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You knew exactly what he thought in this moment – he probably regretted taking the job and dreaded the fact that he was stuck with a spoilt girl like you for the next days. You didn’t blame him.

You couldn’t have known on this day but you were wrong. Geralt didn’t have any regrets – not yet however. He saw you as spoilt, yes. He also recognized your will to change – or else you wouldn’t have come to him in the first place.

***

One hour later and Geralt finally stopped in his tracks. You were more than thankful as your feet already started to hurt. The two of you had left the town far behind and had now reached a small clearing in the woods.

With a sigh you sat down and leaned against a tree. Geralt kept his gaze on the ground and walked around the clearing, looking for something.

You watched him. There was certainly something about that Witcher with his tall figure, white-hair and brooding looks. Only a blind woman would deny that. For a brief moment, you wondered if he had a companion or a consort, so to speak. What kind of woman did he desire? You had heard rumors about a mage he had taken as his lover. So probably powerful woman, fighters, he didn’t need to worry about protecting.

“Here,” a stick landing in front of you catapulted you back into reality.

You looked at the stick and back at Geralt. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Fight,” only then you noticed a second branch, resting in his hand.

“With a stick?”

“Yes.”

You grabbed it and got up in the same movement. “I’m not a child, I won’t play with sticks,” putting some force behind your words, you looked at him intensely.

His face didn’t falter. “What do you suggest instead?”

“A sword. I want to learn how to fight with a sword.”

“You’re not ready.”

“We only have two weeks though, we need to speed up this whole process,” you argued.

“You’re not ready.” He repeated sternly.

You kept staring at him, realizing that you wouldn’t win this argument. A sigh left your lips. “Fine.”

A small smile appeared on his face. “Great. Let’s get started.”

*** The first training was an absolute disaster. You were convinced that you spent the most time on the ground, face-down in the mud – the rest of the time you got your ass kicked. The exhaustion you felt when you were back in the tavern with torn clothes and leaves in your hair came close to nothing you ever experienced in your life.

Geralt sat next to you, happily eating his piece of chicken, looking like he had just returned home from a lazy and relaxed day out of town.

“You should eat something,” he said in between bites.

You looked down at your plate where the food remained untouched. “I’m not hungry.”

“Yes, you are.”

As if your stomach wanted to agree, a low growl was heard.

Geralt smirked but didn’t comment.

“Fine,” you admitted. “I’m starving.”

“But?”

“Everything hurts.” It was true, you felt too exhausted to take one bite out of the meat.

He shrugged. “Of course it does. You’ll get better though.”

“I don’t think so,” you sighed. “Did you see me today?!”

“I’ll tell you what,” Geralt said with a chuckle. “I promise that you’ll be able to fight and win against Jaskier by the end of this.”

“Is he a good fighter?” You asked with narrowed eyes.

“He’s not too bad.”

“What if I lose against him?”

“You’ll get your coin back.”

“Deal.” You nodded in contently. Then you added after a brief moment: “Wait, who’s Jaskier?”

“He’s traveling with me,” Geralt simply answered and took a sip from his beer mug. “You’ll meet him tomorrow. He knows people from this town.”

Jaskier. You were curious about the kind of person a Witcher spent his time with when he wasn’t away, hunting beasts. Was he as calm and collected as Geralt? Always so serious?

Another growl came from your stomach and you looked back at the plate. Well, maybe not eating at all would be a worse decision. After all, there were nine more days filled with exhaustion ahead of you. Slowly, you reached down to grab one of the chicken legs and bit into it.

Geralt watched you carefully and a very small part of him began to like the idea of having to spend more dinners with you in the next days. Of course, he’d never admit it. Not even to himself.

***

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

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Fight or Flight - Chapter 5: Judgement

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~3800

Rating: PG

Summary: Three hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: Remember in TRR3 when Hana planned to move in to Valtoria, even if not romanced? Well, even though canon seems to have forgotten this fact, I still remember it. Thus, in this series, Hana lives permanently at Valtoria, just in a separate wing from the Walkers.

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

“I’m sorry. But we aren’t risking coming back.”

Hana glanced up from the phone as Drake’s words cut through the room. She’d been preparing for this, mentally steeling herself for the confirmation. It still was shocking, though. How quickly everything was changing… for all of them.

She tried to read Olivia’s expression. She was expecting more fire and rage than she witnessed across her face, but instead she mainly saw exhaustion as her eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment and she let out a heavy breath through her nose. Certainly, some anger was visible. Her jaw was clenched and her red fingernails clutched the edge of Liam’s desk so tightly that Hana was concerned that she would damage the finish.

Seeing Olivia’s manicure prompted Hana to glance down at her own fingernails, painted a pale gold with just a bit of sparkle. She and Riley had watched a few rom coms last night as they did their fingers and toes, a tradition that had started back during Liam’s engagement tour. Riley had selected a shocking neon lime green this time, telling Hana she liked to keep the other nobles on their toes. Well, she had certainly done that today.

“I suppose you aren’t interested in hearing how terrible of an idea this is,” Olivia sighed out, interrupting Hana’s thoughts.

“Not really.”

“Well, I won’t be able to stop the treason charges. And you’ll be clearly guilty of the kidnapping, so I don’t know how you see this panning out here, Walker.”

There was a slight pause before Drake responded, “Uhhh… do we know who will be charging us with kidnapping yet?”

“You mean, are you going to force the hand of the man who has been with you through everything, who considers you his closest friend, or rather, who considers you to be his brother, to be the one who calls for your arrest?” Olivia’s voice was thick with malice and judgement, but her face was calm and calculated. Hana realized she wasn’t actually experiencing the emotions she was attempting to convey, at least nowhere near that intensely. She was trying to intentionally guilt Drake into agreeing to her original plan.

There was no response for several tense seconds. Hana began to wonder if Drake had hung up on them, but eventually, his voice came through the speaker of Olivia’s phone. “Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.”

Olivia grimaced slightly before answering, “We don’t know yet. A High Court justice will have to set up an emergency hearing to see who will hold power going forward. That hasn’t happened yet.”

“Okay… How’s… how’s Liam doing?”

“He’s fairly stressed, Drake. It’s a lot to handle - fighting a surprise coup, particularly when your allies start abandoning you and making a run for it.”

“Olivia… I…. I’m sorry. Can you tell him that?”

Olivia’s eyes rolled up in her head. She clearly wasn’t swaying him like she’d hoped she’d be able to do. “Tell me, Drake. Was this your brilliant plan, or was it your wife’s?”

“No.” Drake’s voice took on a sudden edge, clear even over speaker phone. “You are not going to try and divide us here. This is our family. You don’t get to judge the decisions we’ve made.”

“Okay, so obviously this was Riley’s idea. Put her on the phone.”

“No. She doesn’t have to listen to this shit.”

“She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need you to play big, strong protector here. So hand her your damn phone.”

Hana wasn’t sure what tactics Olivia was planning to use to sway Riley, but if they were anything like the ones she’d tried on Drake, she knew it could turn ugly. Drake was more likely to internalize the pain Olivia threw at him, but Riley had a tendency to lash out. The last thing that needed to happen was to have Riley and Olivia devolve into bitter screaming.

“Wait!” Hana said, “Let me talk to Riley, Drake.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, but didn’t object as a muffled, “Hana wants to talk to you,” drifted through the phone. There were a few seconds of rustling before Riley’s voice came across loud and clear.

“Hana?” She sounded a bit frail, almost as if she’d been crying. Hana couldn’t recall ever having seen her cry.

“Hi, Riley. How are you?”

“Not gonna lie; things have been better.”

Well, at least she still had some of her humor. “Look, sweetie. I just want to make sure you and Drake and Bridget are doing what’s best, okay? I want to be able to help you, in whatever ways you need.”

“Hana, I’m sorry. But we can’t come back. If Barthelemy comes out of this with the power of the Crown, there might not be a way to stop him from taking my daughter, and I can’t take that chance.”

Olivia opened her mouth to retort, but Hana shook her head vigorously. Riley fought back when she felt backed into a corner. It was essential to keep her from going on the defensive.

“Okay. Well, I don’t know how much help I’ll be able to provide you if you’re on the run. Are you sure you can’t come back and we can fight this together, like we always have done?”

She heard a little sniffle before Riley spoke again, “No… Hana, I’m sorry. She’s not your kid, and I just… I need to keep her away from all the assholes trying to take her from me.”

Hana closed her eyes and swallowed. It was obvious that Riley was not willing to consider alternatives, and she was stubborn enough that Hana knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere. With her last hope of being able to reunite their little found family completely shattered, Hana switched the focus of her conversation.

“I understand, Riley. You and Drake focus on keeping your little girl safe, okay? I’ll take care of the corgis and anything else you need me to handle at the estate.”

“Thank you, Hana,” Riley sighed, the relief evident in her voice.

“Well, I guess there’s nothing left for us to discuss at this point,” Olivia said, massaging her forehead with one hand. “Only answer your phones for either Hana or me at this point. We have to figure out how much to tell Liam, okay?”

“Why wouldn’t you tell him-”

“Riley, do you want to get charged with treason and have extradition orders sent out across the EU for your kidnapping today, or would you like a little time before that happens?”

Riley gave no response, but Olivia took her silence as agreement. “That is why Liam can’t know right now. But Hana and I will be in touch. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Do not answer your phones for anyone other than the two of us. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Excellent. Goodbye.”

“Bye, Ol-” but Olivia ended the call before Riley could even finish saying goodbye. She let out a sigh and tipped her head back in her chair.

“Well… That was about what I expected,” she breathed out before looking at Hana. “Obviously, not a word of any of this to anyone until we get through the judicial hearing and figure out how much power Liam holds here.”

Hana nodded. She understood the need for secrecy at this point. What she didn’t understand was why Olivia was including her so fully in the entire process. “Why me?”

“Hmmm?”

“Why did you want me here for this?”

“Because two of us should know. This isn’t the sort of thing that goes well with only one person scrambling to keep things covered up. It makes that person look very guilty and shady. So, I needed someone here. Liam would be obligated to act, and Maxwell is a shitty liar, so that left you.”

The implications of her statement raced through Hana’s mind. “You think I’m a good liar?”

Olivia shrugged, “I think you can keep your cool better than Maxwell, that’s for sure. And maybe a few years ago I would have said ‘no,’ but now… I think you can probably keep up a convincing enough poker face.” And at that, she picked up her phone and started typing quickly.

“What are you doing?”

Olivia didn’t take her eyes off the screen as she kept typing. “I’m telling Ray he should buy them some basic supplies, you know, clothing, food, toiletries, that sort of thing, before he heads back. I’m letting him know I’ll reimburse those expenses.”

“Seriously?”

She gave another little shrug. “You heard them. I think they are being idiots, but there’s not going to be any way to change their minds at this point. So it’s time to move on to planning next stages. Once their disappearance is fully noticed, it’ll be a lot harder to help them. But for now, we just have to do what we can.”

Hana smiled at Olivia’s generosity. She knew she was right. Going forward - if Barthelemy succeeded - their group would likely be subject to increased surveillance due to their known close connections with Drake and Riley. And while Hana hoped that Liam’s lawyers might be able to put a stop to things, waiting to find out if that was the case would likely be too late. There were steps that needed to be taken now.

“I need to get to Valtoria, don’t I?” she asked. Olivia had an employee with them now, but Hana knew that her permanent residence at Valtoria would grant her opportunities to act without much suspicion, at least at the moment.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at her. “You up for that?”

Hana gave her a crisp nod. “It will go better if I can get things taken care of before anyone official comes looking for them there, won’t it?”

“Absolutely. You have a way to get there?”

She shook her head. “I mean, I know how to drive, but I don’t have a vehicle here.”

Olivia was silent for a few seconds, her eyes rolling up and darting back and forth. “You guys came via limo, right?”

She nodded. Given that it was the start of the Social Season, they’d used a limo service, even with Drake grumbling that they should have just taken their own car. He probably wanted that car even more at the moment.

“Right,” Olivia continued, “Call up the company you used and tell them someone from the Valtoria party is ill and that you’d like to move up the pick up to as soon as possible. Make sure you act like you have a migraine or something for the ride so you don’t cause immediate suspicion with that story.

“When you get home, be subtle where you can. Don’t hide routine documents that center around Valtoria’s day to day functioning. Just grab their personal documents. And only gather up a small chunk of their personal belongings. Obviously, it’s a judgement call on what to pack away, but try not to make it obvious that items are missing - leave their quarters looking lived in. Will the staff question your presence in their private rooms?”

Hana shook her head. “The staff are all gone. Drake and Riley hate having them there, so they pretty much always give them the day off if they are coming to the capital.”

“I never thought I would say this, but god bless Drake Walker and his unrefined ways. Do you have somewhere you can stash their things where they won’t be found until we figure out how to get them to them quietly?”

“I think so.”

“No, Hana. You need to know so. Because Liam can’t afford to have any more of his allies clearly committing criminal activity today, and if you are found to have been aiding them in their ‘kidnapping,’ well then…”

“I understand, Olivia. I’ll make sure things aren’t found.”

“Good. Well, we both have jobs to do, I guess.”

Hana took that as a dismissal. She stood, smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress as she walked out of Liam’s office. “Good luck, Olivia.”

“Same to you, Hana. Same to you.”

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

By the time a justice of the High Court had been summoned, legal briefs submitted, and an emergency session called, it was nearly 10:30 pm. Liam was hungry and more than ready for this day to be over, but he sat still at the prosecution desk in the courtroom, dressed in his regalia. He hoped it sent a clear message that this title was still his.

The courthouse was eerily quiet at this hour, and both teams had brought limited personnel. At each desk were two lawyers, plus the official named parties on the case - Barthelemy and Liam himself. The gallery was nearly empty as well, with only Olivia, Bertrand, and Maxwell seated on Liam’s side of the courtroom and Adelaide and Landon on the other. Kiara was not in attendance. He wondered where she was and what she might be doing instead of coming to this hearing. He also wondered if Barthelemy’s team had noticed the absence of Drake and Riley in a similar fashion. All he could hope was that they assumed that it was too late for them to be here with Bridget.

The case was being heard by Lilith Questa, a woman in her late 60s and the second longest serving of the five justices on the High Court. High Justice Questa wasn’t the most favorable justice from Liam’s perspective, but she wasn’t the least favorable either. She had served on the High Court since Liam was a teenager, and she often took a no-nonsense stance in the decisions she wrote. She usually erred on the side of strict adherence to the letter of the law, which should help them, but had little patience for bureaucratic red tape and nobility that tried to squirm through loopholes. He wasn’t sure if that would hurt his side or Barthelemy’s side more. Realistically, it probably meant she would have limited patience for both camps.

“Please stand for High Justice Lilith Questa, Representative of Our King’s Court.”

In spite of the usher’s instructions, Liam remained firmly seated in his chair as the justice walked in, clearly still shrugging on her robes over jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail instead of her usual bun. This might be her court, but all the courts were technically his. All justices represented him and his law. Reigning monarchs were in fact the only ones not required to rise in Cordonian courtrooms, and he was not going to give so clear a visual signal that his power was in question by standing for the justice. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the defense desk. Barthelemy also remained in his chair.

“This is an emergency hearing of the High Court in the matter of His Majesty, King Liam, versus Lord Barthelemy Beaumont. All parties have been sworn in, Your Honor,” said the court’s usher.

The justice nodded as she sank into her seat, the rest of the room returning to their chairs a moment later. “Alright, let’s get things started here. It’s late, and someone needs to be running this country,” she quipped, fanning out a stack of papers on the bench in front of her. “I’ve read your briefings. His Majesty is arguing that the vote conducted by the Conventus Nobilis is invalid because it was called by an improper party, is that correct?”

Liam felt a little jolt of relief. The fact that she still referred to him as “His Majesty” was a likely indication that she was siding with him. He could tell Diana, the head of his legal team, had noticed that as well as tension fell from her shoulders as she stood to address the justice. He didn’t want to count his apples before they ripened, but this was a very good sign.

“Yes, Your Honor. The statutes pertaining to the Conventus Nobilis clearly state that only the head of a major noble house may call such a session. Lord Barthelemy Beaumont does not hold that title.”

“I’m inclined to agree with His Majesty’s lawyers here,” High Justice Questa said with a little nod, her eyes roving over papers as she spoke. “Lord Beaumont, doesn’t the fact that I am addressing you a ‘lord’ and not ‘duke’ tend to indicate that you are not the head of House Beaumont?”

“Your Honor,” said Charles, the lawyer representing Barthelemy, as he stood, “Barthelemy has been gradually resuming duties as head of House Beaumont as he has recovered his health over the past year. In fact, Duke Beaumont is set to travel to the States to visit his in-laws for the entire Social Season, and he signed documentation handing over all daily duties to my client here. I’ve included that document in my briefing.”

“Yes, I saw that. However, the fact that the Conventus Nobilis hasn’t been called in several hundred years would indicate to me that it doesn’t exactly fall under ‘daily duties,’ Charles.”

“Be that as it may, Your Honor, Cordonia has a long established precedent of dividing official duties of the noble houses between members of that house as they see fit, and that document we provided does afford Barthelemy Beaumont the powers of head of household while Duke Beaumont is unavailable.”

The justice looked up from her papers at that, eyes staring down the occupants of the defense desk with a withering intensity. “Charles, can you tell me who is the man seated behind His Majesty?” she asked, gesturing to the gallery seating behind Liam.

Charles turned and looked, pausing for a moment before he responded, “That would be Duke Beaumont, Your Honor.”

“So, he’s clearly not unavailable,” she said, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head, “but nice try.”

Liam kept his face neutral, but he wanted to grin so badly. He heard a tiny little snort behind him, likely Olivia revelling in High Justice Questa’s snide little exercise. It was becoming painfully clear that she viewed this whole endeavor as a waste of her time and resented having to appear for this emergency session at all.

“Lord Beaumont recused himself from the vote!” Charles cried out in obvious frustration with the way this hearing was proceeding.

“Yes, but the vote was never proper and should not have occurred. And in fact, Lord Beaumont wasn’t the only one who did not have the right to be there. The records submitted by both parties indicate that Lady Kiara Theron voted for House Theron, and while Duke Theron may have relinquished some of his duties to his daughter to facilitate an upcoming formal transition of power, participation in the Conventus Nobilis cannot be assigned to anyone other than the proper head of house.

“As far as I can see it, this is a clear case of an improper summoning of the Conventus Nobilis. Therefore, any actions taken by that body are not recognized by the High Court of Cordonia. I find in favor of His Majesty. This matter is now closed.” And with a bang of her gavel, High Justice Questa rose from her bench, gathered up her papers, and swept out of the courtroom. This time, Barthelemy stood with the rest of the room.

Diana turned to face Liam once the door swung shut behind the justice. “Congratulations, Your Majesty!”

He gave her a gentle smile. “It’s you and your team who deserve the congratulations. You compiled all the briefs in record time.”

She bowed her head slightly as she accepted the compliment. “Is there anything else you require from my team tonight?”

Liam glanced over to the defense team. Barthelemy was conferring with Adelaide, frantic whispers being exchanged between the two. After a moment, he gestured towards Landon, who stood up and joined them.

Liam felt a tap on his arm, so he turned his attention towards Olivia. Her eyes were locked on the same brewing conversation. “He’s still scheming,” she said, a scowl etched across her face. “I bet he’s convincing one of them to call the Conventus Nobilis again for another vote since he can’t.”

He knew she was probably right. It was unlikely, after all, that a coup would be halted this easily. “I’m inclined to agree. Bertrand, I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to postpone your trip to Texas. I need your vote.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Bertrand said with a solemn nod.

“It’ll be Hakim instead of Kiara voting. Maybe we could flip him?” mused Olivia.

Liam shook his head. “Maybe, but it seems unlikely Lady Kiara and him didn’t discuss how she would be voting for their house. It may be worth a chance, but contacting him should wait until morning at this point.”

Olivia nodded in agreement, but at that moment, Landon came over and approached Bertrand and Olivia. “Duke Beaumont, Duchess Nevrakis, I’m calling a meeting of the Conventus Nobilis tomorrow at the palace. This is your formal notification. Do you understand?”

“I do,” said Bertrand, hesitating for just a moment before shaking Landon’s offered hand.

“Oh, I’ll be there,” said Olivia, merely raising an eyebrow when Landon reached out to shake her hand, forcing him to awkwardly drop his arm and turn away after a few moments.

Liam let out a sigh. “I’m afraid I’ll still be requiring your team this evening, Diana.”

She gave him a small little smile and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty. We’ll reconvene in Lady Olivia’s quarters?”

“Sounds perfect. How about I bring some late night sustenance for your lawyers?”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that-”

“I insist. I know I’m starving, and I’m guessing your team feels similarly.”

As Diana thanked him and left to return to the palace, Liam turned to Olivia tilting his head to the side. She stepped a few meters away from Bertrand and Maxwell, watching to see if they were paying attention out of the corner of her eye, but as far as Liam could tell, they were wrapped up in their own conversation.

“Did you speak to Drake and Riley?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“I did,” she replied, but her tone and her expression revealed nothing else.

“And?”

“They are safe.”

Liam’s heart sank. The fact that she was refusing to divulge more information was essentially proof that Drake had fled the country with Riley and Bridget. A wave of loneliness and isolation washed over him, but he quickly tried to squash it down. He still had Olivia and Maxwell and Bertrand and Hana. He needed to handle this rationally. “Anything else I should know from your conversation?”

There was a brief pause before Olivia answered, “Not at this point, I don’t think. You should just focus on working with your lawyers to prepare a case for tomorrow, when the no confidence vote will likely be legitimate.”

He swallowed roughly, and she must have noticed, because she reached out and squeezed his hand while giving him a sad little smile. Taking a deep breath, he nodded at her. “Come on; we need to return to the palace. We have a Crown to save.”

Permatag: @walkerswhiskeygirl @riley--walker @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @mfackenthal @thequeenofcronuts

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

Fight or Flight: @masterofbluff @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby @shz256 @iaminlovewithtrr

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfic #trr au #trh fanfic #trh au #trr au fanfic #trh au fanfic #king liam #hana lee #olivia nevrakis #choices fanfiction

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overclockedroulette · 3 years

Text

anyone say vega mochizuki content? no? i literally haven't mentioned him on this blog once? i do not care one bit i love him

for context, he worked with avarice and fabrica when they drugged redglass and him and avarice have this? sortof rivalry?

he's from a separate (slightly more normal, but not at all less inhumane) research facility, and is fully aware that aubilon essentially raises their workers from a Very young age. he makes fun of avarice RELENTLESSLY for that. (see, his choice of insults: show animal, trained dog, circus lion, etc)

also, he was born in a cult and his sister is basically jesus. so you can imagine the kind of stress he is under.

(also, he's very scared of thunderstorms. although that might be an understatement.)

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“Stupid? It’s completely logical. Just because your halfwit mind can’t comprehend anything on a scale larger than one person-”

“At least my ‘halfwit mind’ works properly, psycho.”

“For the last time, I’m not crazy you piece of-”

“Can you two shut up?” Both scientists turned their heads to Fabrica, resting her head in one hand and rolling her eyes. “You’re both being ridiculously antagonistic. At least have the decency to put up a pretence of goodwill, for my sake. You’re acting like children.”

There was a short, surprised pause. Avarice was the first to respond: a curt nod in the royal’s direction. “Of course. My apologies.”

Vega bowed slightly, in a similar fashion, not pausing once before looking to his side and smirking. “So, the dog does know how to behave.”

“I will end your fucking bloodline, Mochizuki.”

Vega gasped falsely. “Oh, I’m so scared,” he mocked, devolving into laughter. “Least I have a family. Say, were you bred for your work, too?”

“Were you bred for your little ocean cult?” Avarice snapped, taking great satisfaction in watching Vega freeze up.

“You shouldn’t know that,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Avarice laughed.

“Oh, please. The name ‘Delta Mochizuki’ isn’t exactly underground, if you know where to look,” he teased, as if he hadn’t spent an unreasonable amount of time in Aubilon’s library trying to find something to hold over the pompous ass. “Plus, you smell of salt water all the time. I just put two and two together, but thank you for confirming my suspicions.”

He had to say, watching Vega panic internally was incredibly satisfying. Of course, Fabrica was less than amused, but he couldn’t help himself; the bastard deserved a little panic, even if the queen was now glaring daggers at the both of them.

“Did you- did you research my family? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Interesting that you assume I didn’t already know about your little cult. Why, are you supposed to be all subtle because you’re related to their messiah?”

“Shut your thrice-damned mouth before I-”

“Shh,” Avarice quieted him with a finger to his lips- which, surprisingly, actually shut him up. “Is that why you insist on acting like you’re better than me? Because your little sister was chosen by your god? Because all you’ll ever be is the saviour’s big brother?”

Vega wrenched himself away fairly quickly after that statement, slapping away Avarice’s hand and scoffing. “Oh, so now the guy who never had a family is lecturing me on mine? How the fuck would you know?”

“I’m just saying what I see,” he shrugged.

“Well, you’re seeing wrong.”

“Am I?”

“Gods, you’re a prick.”

“The sentiment is shared.”

“Asshole.”

“Insect.”

“Lunatic.”

“Coward.”

“This isn’t going to stop, is it?” Fabrica murmured to herself, drumming her fingers on the arm of her throne. “Fine, whatever,” she sighed and stood up, grabbing the side of a curtain. She was sure the others hadn’t noticed, but it was raining fairly heavily outside, interspersed with flashes of lightning or thunderclaps. It also just so happened to be a full moon.

And Avarice wasn’t the only one who had done his research.

She cleared her throat, just enough to get both of their attention for a moment, before yanking the curtain open. It took less than a second for both scientists to be brought to their knees on the tiled floor of her throne room.

It really was interesting, how such a strong-willed, stubborn pair could be reduced to the pitiful state she was witnessing in such a short amount of time. Delirious and trembling, such a juxtaposition to the contentious way they had been speaking just a moment before. Vega was barely recognisable, his hands brought together in some fearful parody of a prayer, pleading in some primordial language she didn’t recognise; the words didn’t have the same rhythm as if he were praying - she was sure she could recognise it - but instead sounded more like he was begging. For what, she didn’t know. She could guess, of course, but her information on how to break the unruly scientists didn’t extend to why they could be broken down so easily.

Avarice, on the other hand, could be understood without much extrapolation. After all, Fabrica spoke Celestial, and she recognised the old prayer that sounded as if it was being dragged forcefully from his lips. She didn’t need to know why a fallen aasimar who knew that prayer had such a fervent reaction to the full moon. She did, briefly, wonder about the bloody scratch marks on his ears, but she quickly put that thought aside. For some reason, he was uncomfortable to look at like this. The same sort of discomfort she had so thoroughly hidden with smug vindication when sending her brother to be burnt alive.

Maybe it was because they looked alike. That was probably it.

After a good while (she wasn’t sure exactly how long - she had gone to make tea after a couple minutes), Fabrica decided that this was probably enough to discourage them from fighting - at least, in front of her - and slid the curtain and window shut, muffling the sound of the rain and obscuring the moon from view, before settling herself back down to drink tea and wait for them to recover.

Vega came to his senses first - or, at least, he was the first to show it. He didn’t bother to stand up. Just stared weakly at nothing, waiting to be addressed first. He made some attempt at a muttered apology, not exactly stable enough to form coherent sentences. Fabrica sipped her tea and waited, and, sure enough, Avarice soon managed to bring himself back to a state of coherency. Well. ‘Coherency’ was probably the wrong word, all things considered. Sure, he wasn’t completely enveloped in nonstop feverish muttering as he had been for a while now, but the image of genuine fear in his eyes as he forced himself to even out his breathing and choke back the visible waves of nausea was just as off-putting, coming from him.

“Stand up,” she commanded. They both complied immediately, albeit a little shaky. “You’re going to get along now, I presume?”

She was met with unquestioning affirmation, as she had expected - both of them left unsettled and desperate to please as they were, like scared children. She didn’t expect it to last - of course not - but she was fairly sure they wouldn’t act up in front of her again, which was a relief. Their incessant bickering was starting to hurt her ears.

“Good,” she smiled, standing up to leave. “I’ll leave you both to it.”

As she left the throne room, she couldn’t help but notice that neither could meet the other’s eyes. She supposed that was to be expected, but they’d get over it. She’d talk to them tomorrow.

#i have another fic that's technically supposed to be before this one #but it isn't finished and this one is and i'm impatient #YES this is badly paced i cannot fix it i tried #also i love their dynamic so much #tw panic attack #avarice kiriatta #vega mochizuki

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justjessame · 3 years

Text

The Deal Chapter 35

Negan didn’t take Carl and me somewhere and ditch our bodies after beating our brains out with his best girl, Lucille. Sadly. Instead, he took us on a road trip. Back to Alexandria. He regaled us, the entire way there with all the ways that he COULD have killed Carl. How he could have forced me to have to watch him put down my baby brother for daring to attack as he had.

I let his bullshit roll over me. I’m learning, slowly, that Negan loves the sound of his own voice. And he truly adores putting fear into the hearts of those who allow it. Instead, I watch out the windshield as we drive along the road. Abandoned cars. A smattering of walkers. And the feeling of being fully aware of everything for the first time in a long time.

When we arrive at the gates, no one dares to stop us from coming inside. With both Carl and me at his side, Negan makes his way to Dad’s house. And, instead of walking in like he owns the place, which I’d expected, he knocks. Olivia, the woman who’d kept the inventory for the armory and pantry answered, and I wondered if she was my replacement in my former house.

I can’t remember having much interaction with her before, when I was still an Alexandrian. It doesn’t strike me as very strange how intimidated she seems by Negan. He’s a hard pill to swallow when he’s trying to play therapist, but when he’s just being himself, well then you see an asshole in full bloom. She tries to get rid of us, because whether she understands or not, Negan and I are a matched set right now. She tells Negan that Dad is out scavenging, that he probably won’t be back by the end of today. I wonder if Michonne went with him, and that’s why she’s here, to watch my baby sister.

She talks about how they’re low on supplies, how they’re practically starving, and then Negan shows just how fucking charming he is. A raised eyebrow. He looks her up and down and insults her by insinuating that since she’s curvy, that he doubts her sincerity. And, yes, I’m editing his bullshit, because it was disgustingly mean. He catches my eye, and sees my glare, so he tries his hand at apologizing.

Of course, this is Negan we’re talking about so once he tries to say sorry in his own classy way, he follows up with an offer that has me rolling my damn eyes. “I think it would be enjoyable to screw your brains out. I mean if, you know, you’re agreeable to it.” Dear fucking Christ, does he have a filter at all?

And Olivia, who I can’t recall much about, does something that has me fucking grinning from ear to ear. She slaps him straight across his smug, arrogant face. The crack makes my heart sing.

Negan ruins the fucking experience by telling her, after she rocks his fucking head on his shoulders with that slap, “I’m about fifty percent more into you now. Just saying.” Ugh. Seriously? He catches whatever look I have on my face, smirks at me, and winks. Could he be more crude and annoying?

He dismisses her, letting her leave his royal presence to fix lemonade that he knows he left behind. Powered lemonade is his newest whim, and I wonder if Olivia had it in her to fucking poison him.

Of course, we couldn’t just drop my little brother off at home, get back in the damn box-truck, and head the fuck back from whence we came. Now, where would Negan’s fun be in that?

Olivia, acting as though I’m an enemy too, stays in the house as Negan takes a grand tour. Taking off his boots, testing the carpet in Carl’s room with his bare feet, I have to wonder if he’s truly enjoying the feel of it because of the novelty, or if he’s checking to see if wiping his bare ass across it would cause him discomfort. Watching the steady stream of water as though he’s never had it before. He looked around what had been my room with interest. Uncomfortable interest, as though he’d find something more about me. Good luck.

And then, as we passed the room where Judith sleeps, he goes to open the door and I shake my head and tell him it’s just another empty room. He squints at me, and puts his hand on the doorknob.

“Really?” I ask him, raising my eyebrow. “Why are you interested in empty rooms?”

He calls my bluff and opens the door, and there she is. My little sister, the ONLY thing I regret leaving behind. And the ONE person in the world that I wanted to protect, from him, from the world at large and he’s found her.

“Oh my!” He doesn’t raise his voice, as he draws nearer to her, and handing Carl his precious Lucille, he almost seems in awe of her. “Look at this little angel.” And then she’s in his arms, and he’s being incredibly gentle with her, as he looks over her sweet blonde curls at me. His tenderness is a surprise, even if he’d never shown me the mean streak I knew ran in him.

Judith is holding a stuffed elephant as he bounces her gently in his arms. He takes a minute to study her, and then looks once again at me. And I wonder at the clear question in his eyes. What could Negan possibly want with this? With Dad’s life? With mine?

Negan makes himself at home in Dad’s house. He shaves with Dad’s straight razor, giving Carl advice like “against the grain, always go against the grain”. He’d handed Judith to me before he went into the bathroom, and I started to turn away, to take her somewhere alone, but he stopped me. “No, sweetheart, you both stay.” Shooting a look at my brother he corrects himself. “All three of you stay.” Which is why I’m having my unscheduled visit with my baby sister in full view of the man I’d assumed would kill me.

While he’s shaving, giving out advice to Carl, he keeps watching me with her. As I quietly talk to her, running my hand down her soft curls, and checking her for signs that she missed me. Even a tiny bit. I can’t stop myself from kissing her head. From entertaining her with her stuffed animal. And I work hard to block out Negan’s interest. Pretending that he’s not filing my reactions away for another round of my therapy when we head back to his domain.

He fixes dinner. Spaghetti sauce from scratch. Noodles, obviously. And he enlists Carl to make rolls. Me? For once, since I offered myself in Glenn’s place, he allowed me to sit at the dining room table and have peace away from him. Still in view, of course, but at a distance. With Judith. And get lost in her, if only for a little bit.

Olivia returned with the lemonade, and I could feel her glaring at me. Her urge to grab Judith from my arms, to keep her safe from ME was clear as a bell on her face. I could also tell that Negan had noticed. “Be a lamb, Olivia, be a lamb.” He was reiterating what he’d said when he requested the lemonade earlier, only now the term that I’d taken as a taunt to the other woman, took on a new meaning. A warning, I could hear it in his voice. A threat, a reminder of who he was, and that I was with him was so evident that she rushed into the kitchen to make the drink.

Once dinner was prepared, we settled around the table, looking for all the world like a family dinner with a tinge of hostage situation. There’s an extra place setting, but I’m so wrapped up in my baby sister that I don’t pay attention to the why. I’d kept Judith on my lap, but we didn’t start to eat. Negan, clearly waiting for something, or someone. And I knew, he was holding dinner for Dad. A picture he’d created, a scene that would fuck with Dad’s head a little bit more. His children, a member of his community, and the very man who’d bested him, around his very own dining room table with a meal fit for a Sunday dinner from before the world turned to shit.

Negan has the patience of a toddler. Eventually he realized that Dad wasn’t going to return just because he’d set the stage. He finally gave in and asked Carl to pass the rolls. I hated to admit it, and I damn sure wouldn’t let him know, but he made a sauce that rivaled the Italian place that I’d loved while at college. I fed Judith from her own plate. I drank a bit of the lemonade that Olivia had made. And I tried, very hard, to ignore the feeling that Negan was watching me closely.

After eating, Negan decided it was perfect weather to sit on the porch and take in the scenery. He held out his arms, once he’d taken off his jacket, and I reluctantly handed Judith back to him. He took one chair and Carl took another. Negan looked like he was enchanted by my little sister. That in her he saw something that he hadn’t seen in far too long. Did I trust it? That he wasn’t dangerous to her? No. I didn’t. Not because he’d shown violence to me or her, but because the need to keep her safe. The need to make sure that she remained innocent of the world and its dangers was one of the few things that I’d never felt numb to was amplified by my mask developing the cracks that Negan’s meddling had created.

I leaned against the banister in front of them. Close to Negan, since she was in his arms, and I hadn’t noticed that Carl’s eyes were taking in my behavior, and Negan’s.

“So my sister doesn’t get to sit?” He bit out, glaring with his one unruined eye. “She has to stay quiet, she has to just blindly follow you around?”

I closed my eyes to his challenge. He didn’t get it. And I had a feeling no one, not even the rest of my family understood. Why I’d done it, why I had to stay beside him. Carl didn’t see me. No better than anyone else had. Dad had only had a glimpse, and even he didn’t get it.

“Have you seen me order her to stand?” Negan asked. “Have you seen me tell her not to look at you or speak to you?” He was challenging my brother’s assumptions. “Jesus, were you this fucking blind before you lost your eye?” I opened my eyes to see him cradling Judith to his chest. His voice stayed low, quite even, careful not to scare her. “I’ve been thinking about what you’d said earlier, Carl. Maybe it is stupid keeping you and your dad alive.” He pulled Judith forward, bouncing her on his knee and seemingly speaking to her. “I mean why am I trying so hard? Maybe I should just bury you both down there in those flower beds.” A gesture to the manicured lawn in front of us. He was staring into Judith’s tiny face, smiling and chuckling. “And then I can just settle in the suburbs.”

My heart clenched. Fear blossoming in my chest at the thought that my deal with him was all for nothing. That my brother’s actions, that his clear challenge of Negan’s power and his seeming inability to wipe all of us out was a sign that he was weak.

We’d gone back inside Dad’s house. Negan grew tired of taunting my brother and the neighbors. Judith was fussy, too much excitement I’d guessed. He’d given her back to me, watching as I rocked her in my arms and hummed to her. He followed me upstairs to put her down for her nap. Ignoring the dagger glare of Olivia, ignoring Carl’s unasked questions, the hurt that had flickered across his face when he decided that my silence was my own choice.

I was staring down at Judith as she drifted off to sleep clutching her elephant. Leaving her, today, would be more painful than my realization that I'd given her up for the ‘greater good’ had been. Holding her, feeling the rush of feelings that I’d gone numb to, the unconditional love I had for her, made it all the rawer. He watched me, leaning in the doorway, keeping his distance, letting me have this at least.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the maternal type, Jessi.” He kept his voice down, so Judith could rest. “I didn’t know that you fucking had her here, that she depended on you.” I could feel the intensity of his attention. “That you sacrificed your need for HER when you offered your life to me.”

I hadn’t noticed the tear falling. Didn’t even feel the usual burn warning that I would cry. His thumb brushed it from my cheek, startling me since I hadn’t heard him come closer. I kept my head down, drinking in Judith’s tiny person. Savoring it, memorizing it, so I could take this little piece of her with me. “Do you want to stay?” It was barely a breath. “Jessi, do you want to stay?”

I shook my head. A deal was a deal. And I wasn’t a shirker. Plus, I’d seen the look on Olivia’s face. The judgement. The insinuation that I was a traitor. A turncoat. In bed, I imagined her look inferred, with the enemy.

“No, I don’t want to stay.” I answered, keeping my voice as quiet as he did. “There’s nothing left here for me, nothing aside from her.” I couldn’t stop myself from running my hand down her back. Touching the softness that I’d taken care of for so damn long. “And she has other people for that now, to keep her safe.” It hurt to acknowledge that I was so easily replaced. That Dad had handed her care, her safety over without effort.

He left me there, letting me have my quiet and solace in the company of a sleeping little girl that had become my only reason to keep the motions going. The only reason that I kept up my mask. The only reason that I’d survived, even if I wasn’t living.

#negan x ofc #daryl dixon x ofc #The Walking Dead #alternative universe #mental illness #dark #rick grimes daughter

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 4 years

Text

Ubbe x reader Protecting you

Pairing: Ubbe x reader

Summary: Reader is a slave who has a hard time behaving. An incident at dinner has her scared and running away from Ivar. Ubbe decides to help her.

Warnings: Mentions of slavery, abuse, death, freezing, mild cursing.

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

Hey guys! I couldn't sleep so I wrote this instead lol, hope you like it😚

"You should watch what you say y/n, especially in front of Ivar, he can be very cruel" Calise warned as you rolled your eyes for the millionth time.

"How many times do I have to say it Calise?! Just because some foreign bastards stole me from my home and made me a slave doesn't mean I can just accept it. I'm a human being, not property. If one of those bastard brothers tries to hurt me they will be the ones who are sorry" you huffed setting down a large bucket of dish water.

Calise tsked nodding her head, "You won't last long with that attitude... believe me you weren't the first slave to think she wouldn't bend, but these men can be savages and they will not hesitate to beat you into submission.." she sighed when you didnt reply and continued washing silently.

In your mind you were seething. You understood that you couldn't just go around picking fights but you weren't going to be treated like dirt either. Ugh why were the gods punishing you like this?

You decided to try your best at keeping a low profile until a chance of escaping arose. After all if no one noticed you it wouldn't be that difficult to sneak away one night.

Alright brain, are you listening? No more smart mouthed comments. No more under the breath insults. And for the love of gods, no more dirty glares! Let's try to stay alive long enough to escape shall we?

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

That night you stood behind the chairs of the royal family as they ate and conversed happily. A rare occasion honestly, it was not often that all the brothers got along this well.

Ubbe was more sensible and to be honest you did not mind him much. Hviserk was for the most part ok, his comments about women sometimes made you clench your teeth. Sigurd wasnt that interesting to be honest, and then there was the devilish one known as Ivar, that one you had to be wary of, you had seen him almost choke to death a servant for spilling soup over him.

Your eyes roamed around the hall. Gods standing around was so boring... the first thing you were gonna do when you escaped was relax in a hot bath and feast on the fattiest foods. None of that leftover meat slop you slaves were fed.

Sometimes when you guys were cleaning up you would sneak some food in your mouth quickly. Calise scolded you everytime but hey, the gods taught not to be wasteful. In your eyes you were doing a good thing.

"Are you deaf slave?" A sudden sharp voice cut into your thoughts.

Shit...

"Sorry, how may I serve you prince Ivar.." you quickly stepped forward.

"My cup is empty" he motioned holding it up mockingly.

This asshole is lucky I don't have my knife anymore...

You quickly filled his cup with ale, a simple task really. No one could've imagined what would happen next.

When you felt a wandering hand over your ass you acted on instinct. No you didnt even stop to think that slapping the craziest man in kattegat was a bad idea.

You stood there eyes wider than saucers. Frozen like a deer as you watched Ivars stunned face turn from the side slowly, a red welt already appearing on his pale skin. Fuck.

You took one giant step back suddenly afraid that he would stab you with a dinner knife right then and there.

"M-my prince, I'm so sorry I did-" you were abruptly cut off when he shot out of his chair, a wild look of murder in his eyes.

Fuck you were done for. Great job you managed to keep yourself in check for like what 7 minutes?!

"Ivar stop!" Aslaug tried to calm him down but he was already out of his chair and limping towards you dangerously. Afraid of him and what he could do you whipped around and darted past a shocked Calise out into the brisk winters air.

You could hear shouting behind you but you were too frightened to stop. Although you probably made it ten times worse by running away. Should you have just stayed and taken the beating?

Surely the brothers or the queen would've intervened before things got too out of hand. You shook your head. Well none of that mattered now, you had to hide before he found you. Gods for a cripple, he sure was fast.

You cursed as another ruthless wind made you shiver. Only a thin dress protected you from the harsh weather. Great instead of being beaten to death you were gonna freeze to death.

Maybe it was better that way.. even if you left kattegat, it's not like you had anywhere else to go. And being captured by bandits on the road didnt seem appealing either. For all your past bravery you were feeling pretty terrified right now.

You hid behind a house taking a deep breath. Ok so you couldn't ask anyone for help for surely they would turn you in. After all no one would risk protecting you for Ivars wrath.

A barn near the house caught your eye, and you immediately snuck through the crack in the door and pulled it shut.

There were some piles of hay, a table for crafting tools of some sort, and above it all was a semi sealed attic.

Seeing no ladder you quickly piled some hay until it was tall enough to climb on. You also pulled as much as you could up with you to cover yourself.

By this point your hands were starting to burn. But you feared going back more than freezing. So you scooched back as far as you could, almost hidden completely and pulled the hay onto your shaking body. It wasn't the furs you slept with but it would have to do.

Wrapping your arms tight you prayed to the gods that you would somehow survive this or at least die a quick death.

At some point the cold turned into burning and then you felt nothing. You couldn't even feel your eyelids as they drooped shut.

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

"Ivar calm down, she's new she doesn't know how to be a proper slave yet" Ubbe stood blocking the door. The only thing standing between him and your certain death.

"I agree, she doesn't know, so she must be taught a lesson" Ivar growled and tried to push past his brother once more.

Aslaug gently placed a hand on his back, "Ivar please, she is just a slave, she is not worth it"

Ubbe could tell he was starting to calm down, especially when his mother spoke he always listened.

"Ivar you're right, she does need to learn but please, let me go and deal with her" Ubbe pleaded.

Ivar glared at his brother a few moments before sighing and shoving his arm off.

"Fine, just promise me you wont be too easy on her brother" he grumbled making his way back to the chair.

Ubbe sighed in relief and made his way outside. He started to worry because it was heavily snowing and from what he saw you were only dressed in a thin dress.

He actually had no intention of "dealing with you" as Ivar had demanded. In all honesty he thought you reacted as any insulted girl would. It just so happened because you were a slave it wasnt permitted.

Later on after he found you he would probably have a good laugh about this with his brothers. After all it wasnt everyday someone stood up to Ivar the boneless.

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

Ubbe had been searching far into the night now, no one he asked had any clue where the girl was and he was starting to lose hope.

Part of him wanted to give up and warm up by the fire in his house but part of him knew you would die if he did. He was far too kind to let that happen. So with a sigh he rubbed his hands together trying to generate some heat before he set off again.

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

Ubbe lightly shook your numb body as he tried his best to bring you to conciousness.

"Wake up, c'mon woman this is not a good place to die" he lightly slapped your cheek.

He clicked his tongue when you didnt even flinch.

He pulled off his outer fur and gently wrapped you in it. Carefully he lifted a hand behind your back and under your knees. Adjusting you until you lay safely in his arms.

He decided to take care of you himself seeing as it was the middle of the night and his house was much closer than the hall. Plus it wasnt a good idea to be around Ivar right now.

He kicked open the door and gently layed you down by the firepit. He got to work lighting it and gathered all the warmest furs he could find.

Once he had you wrapped up in several layers he grabbed a pillow and made himself comfortable beside you. For a moment he just stared at your face, wondering what your name was, where you came from, what you were thinking when you slapped Ivar. The last one made him smile. You were an interesting one indeed.

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

Death felt cozy...? It was warm and comforting, like the first day of spring after a long winter.

You felt softness everywhere, like a bunch of tiny kittens were cuddling into you. If this was death, this must of been heaven. The smell of wood was soothing, reminding you of your home and the sounds were peaceful. The crackling, singing of birds, snoring....wait a minute...snoring???

Your eyes flew open as the realization that were in fact very much alive sunk in. You could see a wooden ceiling and tried to sit up but someone had piled what had to have been 1000 furs on you, making you feel like a swaddled baby. A very hot and sweaty baby. You tried to lift them off but your arms felt like jelly.

Ubbe heard the commotion and was awake in an instant.

He almost laughed as he watched you wiggle around like a trapped worm.

"Easy now, you're still recovering" Ubbes unmistakable voice echoed through the room.

You twisted around until your eyes landed on his amused ones.

"Prince Ubbe?" Ok now you were officially confused.

"Here" he scooted closer and started removing a few of the layers. When you moved to sit up he placed a hand on your back supporting you. You nodded a thank you and cleared your throat. It felt dry like you hadn't drank water in days.

As if he read your mind the prince reached over to a table where he poured water from a pitcher into a small cup then handed it to you.

After gulping the whole thing down you suddenly felt very awkward as he was just staring at you.

" Um Prince Ubbe?" You looked up.

"Yes?"

"What am I doing here.." he let out a tiny laugh which only confused you more.

"You mean you don't remember?" He asked smirking.

"Remember? I don't know what you are talk-.......Oh my god I slapped Ivar!!" you shrieked in disbelief as the memories started to piece back together again.

You suddenly felt very unsafe and began scrambling to get up. What if he was waiting for you to get up just so he could torture you.

As soon as you stood up you felt a wave of dizziness pass and found yourself pitching to the side.

"Woah slow down" Ubbe effortlessly caught you and guided you back onto the ground. "You need to rest, your body has been through a lot." Ubbe said with his hands still supporting you.

You were about to protest when he held a finger to your lips, "Shh listen to me, my brother is not going to hurt you I give you my word." He promised pulling away slightly but still staying close.

You visibly relaxed at his words. Out of all the brothers Ubbe did seem the most trustworthy and kind.

"Although he did say that I should teach you a lesson" he meant it as a joke but you tended up immediately, ready to run again. He quickly noticed and shook his head smiling, "Don't worry, I think you almost freezing to death was punishment enough...how do you feel by the way?" He asked with genuine concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine I think...but I still don't understand how I came to be here with you.." all you remembered was crawling into that barn and feeling so tired.

"After you ran out we calmed down my brother and I convinced him to let me handle you. I searched for you a long time before I got lucky and happened to spot you curled up in the corner. You were nearly dead, I didn't waste time and brought you here to my home. I have to say I am quite surprised you are up already considering how unresponsive you were last night."

As he finished speaking you felt suddenly very vulnerable. All your life you had been on your own. You took care of yourself because that was all you knew. And in one night he had cared for you more than your own parents did your childhood. Suddenly you felt bad for every bad thought of him that ever ran through your mind.

"Thank you...you saved my life and somehow saved me from Ivars wrath as well. You must be a magic prince or something, definitely my new favorite" you let out a tired laugh.

His eyes lit up in amusement. You certainly were an interesting one indeed.

"As long as you don't make a habit of slapping princes I promise nothing will happen to you"

You wanted to believe that but you were a slave, anyone on the street could beat you and no one would bat an eye.

"You can't promise that....I mean no offense but I'm a slave, anyone has the right to punish me with the littlest excuse and no one would care.." you were getting angry at the thought of how many slaves you saw get brutally punished for simple mistakes.

Ubbe was quiet for a moment then shrugged his shoulders, "Then I guess I have no choice"

You tilted your head at his non chalant attitude.

"What do you mean?" You questioned.

"I'll just have to make you mine" he said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Make me his? What is he talking about??

"If I convince my mother to give me you as a personal slave I would be able to watch over you. Down the road I would be able to free you and you could still serve and work for me if you wish."

You sat wide eyed at his words, was he being serious right now??

"You want me to be your slave...? And then you would free me..?"

He nodded his head confirming it.

"I've been in need of someone around the house anyway however I'm not looking for someone to force. If you agree, you would work and I would pay you. But you would be free to do as you please. What do you say"

You were stunned, this man had not only saved your life, he protected you, nursed you and now he was giving you your freedom!?

Again your instincts took over and before you knew what you were doing you launched yourself onto his body gripping him in the tightest hug possible.

"I say yes! Thank you my prince!!" You squeezed him still in disbelief.

He was not expecting that and let out a surprised laugh. When you realized what you had just done you shuffled back embarrassed.

"Ubbe, call me Ubbe from now on" he smiled before opening his mouth again, "Now I think I should know the name of the woman I'm going to be spending alot of time with yeah?"

You looked into his eyes and for the first time you felt so hopeful for the future, "Y/n..my name is Y/n".

He smirked and for the first time in your life you felt those tiny fluttering butterflies that all the girls had talked about.

Oh dear so this was what having a crush on someone felt like..

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

Thank you for reading! Please lemme know what you thought in the comments 💕

#viking fanfic #vikings #ubbe x reader #ubbe x oc #ubbe ragnarson #ivar #ivar the boneless #slave girl #slave reader #protecting you #self insert #x reader #slap #sick #faints #fainted #freeze #almost dies

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streets-in-paradise · 4 years

Text

The Greek of New York

American Gods and Percy Jackson crossover - Part 2

Word Count: 2794

Characters: Zeus, Eira ( Vanir demigoddess OC), Wednesday, Shadow.

Pairings: Zeus x Eira. Platonical relationships of Wednesday's crew.

Warnings: Mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption. Heavy flirting, no smut but some sexy teasing and sexual tension. Zeus being a classy hot shameless asshole. Mentions of cheating. There is age difference because she is statted to be young . Of course, she is +18.

Summary: The crew's expectations get crushed in their meeting with the misterious man while Wednesday struggles in his goal to make him join their side.

Disclaimers: Please, don’t take this nonsense seriously. It’s just a fun piece i wrote to satisfy my needs for Sean Bean as Zeus. @yerevasunclair is my big inspiration for this and encouraged me to post it. Otherwise i would had never done it because of my total lack of faith in my attempts of writing fiction. This is a translation to english so, i apologise for any mistakes.

Thanks for reading and i hope you’ll enjoy it.

The trip ended on the facade of an imposing New York City skyscraper. Whoever this Theo was, Shadow got the impression that they were messing with someone really powerful. He was surprised to consider Mr. Wednesday's vast network of contacts and the variety of strange places he was taking them. Within minutes they were inside a luxurious apartment on the top floor.

The man for whom they were received was exactly the opposite of what they expected.

" Wednesday!! I was waiting for you. I knew you were going to come since the first rumours started spreading. What took you so long? " he welcomed in a tone equally playful and imponent.

" I had other concerns to attend to. I didn't wanted to come to you with empty hands, my friend" Wednesday replied

Shadow and Eira were stunned. Theo was not at all the old stranger they had imagined. He was a mature man, but not exactly old. Blond, tall, elegant, of a distinguished royal bearing and very attractive. They realized that they had been tricked again.

" I see you didn't" they heard him reply as he looked at them with a playful smirk. He didn’t seem to be paying particular attention to any of them yet Eira couldn't help to get the feeling of his stare all over her. It was the first trait she noticed in him, the charming ways of his beautiful green eyes. Shadow was seriously regretting the bet he did with their boss.

They were barely paying attention to Wednesday's attempts of formality.

" Allow me to introduce you. These are my servants, Shadow and Eira. "

Theo saluted Shadow with a strong, confident handshake and kissed Eira's hand without losing eye contact with her for a single instant during the action.

All she could focus on was the intensity of his gaze and she quickly forgot about Wednesday's warnings.

" We know who you are. You don't need introduction."

He was perfectly capable of noticing the strong impression he left on her and it pleased him.

" Surprised, little one? I understand it. You must have been expecting to see an eldery man of long curly white hair and a matching beard. That damn Disney movie keeps ruining the general perception of most people. It's a price I have to pay for refusing to join the new paradigm. Although, my wife likes it. It portrays her in a far better light. The motherly way in which she always wanted to be seen, it also does wonders for our relationship. Of course, it's not because Media wanted to be softer with us... Marketing choice. Disfunctional families, half blood bastards and murder in divine induced crazyness is not Disney s style. Not exactly kids friendly fun" he joked, trying to come out as friendly so she would be able to calm her nerves around him.

" She is one of my special maidens" Wednesday replied, taking away any chance for her to keep the previous conversation. “ I don’t have the original upline anymore but I had been thinking in rebuilding a new one for modern times. She’s the first I got so far but i’m making plans for more additions.”

" Those beautiful horse rider angels, right? Your best idea regarding orders of servants. "

Eira wanted to keep talking to him. Not only because he was handsome, a strange push made her feel unable to shut up.

" Actually it was my mother's invention. She was the founder of the institution and it represents her partnership with Wednesday. That's why I got selected" she told, adding more details to her boss's simple explanation.

Theo seemed to be even more interested in her after hearing that.

" I knew there was something special about you. At first i thought it was just your radiant beauty but now everything makes sense. You are a halfblood. "

Shadow wasn't able to understand most of the conversation but the sweet, friendly attitude of that man towards her was pretty easy to get , as well as his intentions.

Getting excited, Eira kept telling him details about her.

" My mother's fields are love, fertility, beauty, witchcraft and she shares war with Wednesday." she told him like if it meant something for someone.

"Interesting.... very interesting" he stated, looking at her in the eyes with a thoughtful expression. Since he didn't wanted to intimidate her, he changed his tone quickly " It looks like the nordics finally started to follow our business model... and they had amazing results"

Wednesday was so annoyed that he didn't took a lot of consideration in his answer

" Her mother decided to keep her at her side. It's not a common choice between our kind but what can you expect from a Vanir? It's the softer side of the family. The rest of us aren't opening summer camps"

" You should. It ‘s a wonderful business that keeps growing. Nothing is stronger than the blind faith of a child and it gets particularly better when a parent is involved. I don't even need to have my own, all the cabins of the camp have to put their faith in me before their parents because i'm their leader. Every year more and more keep joining and we have entire generations raised in our ancient ways."

Shadow started to wonder if Theo was a cult leader instead of a mob boss.

" Did you make a fortune with summer camps for children? How? " he asked.

" It's a surprisingly profitable business, i told your boss long ago that it was the solution to all his problems but he still stands in disbelief. You can even adapt the format to your particular cultural tastes. Want some advice? Replace the whole “giant palace with thousands of rooms” thing with a hotel. It fits better to your tale than a camp. '' he replied in a very relaxed mood. He sat on a small , fancy couch like a king would sit on his throne and gave Wednesday a condescending smile while lighting up a cigarette.

" I don't have intentions of converting to the touristic industry. My business is war. " he stated, proudfully.

"it's a shame. Time should have made you more pragmatic. " Theo teased him after exhaling the smoke of his cigarette.

Both of Wednesday's assistants were thinking about how different his way of smoking was to Czernobog . Instead of the usual disgusting smell and creepy vibe this man was classy, smooth and the smoke he left behind felt like a different perfume to each one of them. Both cases being pleasant smells they enjoyed.

He offered a cigarette to Shadow first. He got used to that sort of socialization code in prison so it wasn't a problem to him. When Eira received the same offer she seemed to hesitate.

" I don't smoke. I never got interested in the habit despite, or maybe because, I have a fríend who is a heavy smoker. " she said, slightly embarrassed. She feared her reply would upset him but he was smiling at her.

It was like her answer was exactly what he was expecting.

" There is always a first time for everything" he teased her, seductively. " Come here and let me show you"

The girl stared doubtfully at Wednesday, but she understood she wasn't able to deny his request even despite her boss's disapproval. As courtesy, she had to obey. She sat on the dangerously close spot the man indicated for her, the arm of his couch. She had the impression that, if it wasn't for the presence of Wednesday and Shadow, she would had been on his lap. The idea didn't seem so bad.

Meanwhile they sat in another less magnificent couch, they had to stand the whole thing.

Theo put the cigarette between Eira's lips, he lit it , and told her how to smoke it. He wouldn't stop looking at her and he smiled pleasantly when she exhaled , laughing a bit when she coughed briefly.

Nerves made her laugh as well and he caressed her cheek and jaw with one hand, reaching her lips and tracing them with his index finger. It was his way to show her how pleased he was.

" Good, you did it so good. Not bad at all to be your first time, eh?" he told her, in a sweet but sinful tone. " You must understand, dear. I made you do it for a reason. Some like alcohol, some meat, others prefer blood. What pleases me is smoke. Since you are in my house, or at least one I like to use temporarily, you must smoke at least a little bit for me." he explained as he reached her waist with his arm.

Shadow couldn't believe what he was watching. Eira seemed entranced by that man.

"You are such a sweet girl, soo well behaved. Your boss must adore you. " he kept saying to her in the same casual and calm but lust driven way. For such an elegant man, that behaviour was openly shameful yet he didn't seem to lose his royal vibe. He was like a shameless king seducing the unmarried daughter of a noble friend in a feast.

" Not really, I'm a disappointment. He picked me because there was no one else willing to do the job. " she admitted to him.

" Don't say that, you are such a good girl" he emphasized the last two words. " Do you want to know something more? You have really pretty lips, it makes the gesture of the offering even better. Why don't you keep trying with that cigarette? I like the sight as much as I like the feeling. "

Eira rushed to pick it again and keep smoking.

Wednesday was done with their bullshit and interrupted them.

" I would like to discuss our common problem instead of watching you degrading my servant."

" She is a lovely creature. Is she entirely yours?" Theo asked as he played with the girl's hair.

" She doesn't serve me in the ways you are suggesting. Our bond is only professional with hints of familiar feelings on her part. Her mother is an important member of my family. She sees me as an old uncle because of this , i really don’t care. " Wednesday explained.

Theo seemed even happier.

" That's so sweet. You are adorable! " he said to her. " Aren't you more comfortable now? I don' t want you to shy away from me, pretty thing. This feels so much better"

" I had never seen her like that. Is she alright?" Shadow asked

" She is a bit overwhelmed. That's all. She is enjoying herself, you don't need to worry. I think she likes me as much as I like her" Theo answered. He was in a good mood, ready to hear whatever they were bringing to him. " So, going back to our business. What do you want from me?"

" War is upon us, sooner or later it will affect every single one of us. I expect to count with you and your family on our side. " Wednesday stated.

" We live in perfect balance with the new people. They don't touch our worshippers"

" For how long? Can you trust in an impulsive, unstable young brat like the Technical Boy? Your children would be his if you weren't in the way. How much do you think he would be willing to wait if he hears about the existence of a camp full of bored kids untouched by his toys? " the norse insisted

" Mr World knows we have territories they shouldn't trespass" the greek pointed out.

" With all the respect, sir. No one is able to predict what the boy is capable of doing if he is angry or offended enough. " Shadow added. " I had been there, you don't want to be his target."

" What do you think, darling?" Theo asked Eira. " Should i trust in their advice? "

" The boy lynched Shadow on his first day of work because he wasn't able to get information out of him. He is unpredictable and he doesn't tolerate when things don't go his way. Based on what we know he can see the system you had created to deny him access to your kids as a personal challenge to him. Young people are his biggest fans after all, specially little kids and teens in the age range of your lands' ' she answered.

" Thanks for your honesty. You sound genuine in your concern and your observation is fair. Still, it is not enough to convince me. The young brat doesn't scare me. He is nothing without my electricity, his wifi goes around my sky and his phones don't do well in bad weather. Your boss will have to do better. " he mocked him, making her a participant of it.

" If you don't join us now they will come for you later and you will not have a backup. Once they end with us you are the next one. They want the whole market. They don't care who they are stealing from " warned Wednesday

" I'll not risk my family in a preventive war against an enemy that hasn't offended me yet. All I can offer you for now is a team of our halfblood heros as a contribution."

" We don't have Donar. We need the strength of the thunder with us and you are the only one who can replace him. Even if the rest of your people doesn't join we could use the help of your bolt. "

" You are asking too much and I don't see a benefit. I'm sorry, my friend, but i can't help you this time."

Shadow was pretty lost but he had a small fear regarding the route the conversation was heading.

" Please, don't tell me you are thinking of trading Eira for his acceptance of the deal."

" Don't be ridiculous. Of course i don't." his boss denied. " She is not enough. The minimum he would accept is the mother. "

" That is so rude. Are you always so demeaning to her? She is a servant you should be proud of." Theo complained. " Actually, i got the feeling that she is the only one who really likes to be here. Don't you, Eira?"

" I do. You are very kind " she agreed

" Well, if he keeps being so mean with you consider leaving him to serve me. I will value you a lot more, I can assure you that."

The girl smiled while hearing his sweet talking.

“ I give you two months before your wife finds out and kills her. She knows better. We taught her better” Wednesday teased him

“Don’t scare her off like that. We are starting to know each other!” the greek replicated.” Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. She is not aware of my every step and she will not bother us if i don’t want us to be bothered.”

“I don’t wish to bring troubles on a married man, or to enrage his wife.It’s not my style. I don’t have the experience required to deal with that sort of situation.” she declined politely.

“ So naive, my shy girl. I have plenty of experience. I would love to keep teaching you stuff.” he replied, losing the few glimpses of shame he could had left. “ If the Vanir lady is your mother i’m sure you must be like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. All you need is a push in the right direction to make the wilder side come out” he assured.

Suddenly and without even being touched, the girl lost the balance in her seat spot. She wasn’t able to explain what made her do it. She ended up exactly where she imagined before, exactly where he wanted her: spreaded on his lap. In any regular circunstance she would have been extremely ashamed but the irresistable charm of the man was stronger than her shame. From her new point of view she had an even better access to contemplate the magnificence of the god’s face and she couldn’t help to feel entranced by him again.

“ Shadow, go to my kitchen and get us some wine. You can pick whatever you like. I would do it myself but now i have this princess getting comfortable over here.” she heard him requesting to her co worker.

During the rest of his excharge with Odin Zeus kept Eira on his lap, encouraging her to drink a few sips of wine from his own glass and keeping himself entertained messing with her without paying too much attention. He told him he was going to consider his idea just to get rid of him but he wasn’t on board with it.

He would had kicked him out far sooner if he wouldn’t had picked an interest in his girl.

#American Gods #Percy Jackson #Zeus #Mr Wednesday #Shadow Moon #Starz American Gods #Percy Jackson American Gods AU #Crossover fanfiction #OC fanfiction #American Gods imagines #Sean Bean #Sean Bean as Zeus

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thewritingstar · 4 years

Text

Enchanted For A Moment: Reds

Pairing: Blossom x Brick (Reds)

Fandom: PPG

Rating: Teen and up..slight cussing

Royal Au

Im literally dying for this au and i dedicate this to all the lovely people in our discord and im in love with our fandom.

I know I know ive been on a ppg high lately but im riding this one out for a long time. Also I did little to no research, idk the time period but its old so have at it. I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter One: Golden Doors and Spider Silk

She hated this castle, this stupid kingdom and all above, her. Princess Morbucks. The girl was so spoiled that her father, the king, named his daughter Princess as if she wasn’t going to be addressed like that otherwise. She didn’t know why she kept coming back to teach her these lessons. French, English, History, she didn’t bother to learn or practice in the slightest.

“Princess, not many women know how to read and write. Imagine how extraordinary that would be to be such a diverse leader.” She had told her, but at last, she never listened.

The only thing that could interest her was gowns and gems and of course the many suitors who came begging for her hand in marriage. Pathetic. She never believed that a love like that could be real. Affection starved from greed and looks was not something she wanted, nor should anyone. Maybe that's why this life of luxury disgusted her. Yes living in a giant palace with the fluffiest pillows and the freshest fruit sounded lovely, beats her small bedroom that she shares with her sisters, but was it worth it? Okay maybe she would become a royal for the library, maybe.

Her thoughts came back to her as Princess slammed the book shut. If she bends that book I swear. “I am done for today.” She huffed.

“We started ten minutes ago.” Blossom sighed and smoothed the headache that was starting to form. “Let's do history, today is about the different types of clothes and fabrics. Maybe you’ll enjoy this.”

“Why would I?”

“Because if you see something you like, you can have it custom made, plus i'll tell you where the most expensive silk is.” Got her.

Princess stared at her. Even though she was older than her by a year, she seemed to resemble more of her students she taught at the schoolhouse. Aka she was a brat.

“Fine but make it quick, the newest batch of suitors is coming today and I want to see my options.”

Blossom rolled her eyes. Princess was turning 20. She should have been married off at 18 but after complaining about wanting to have a little more freedom, dear old king daddy gave in. She always got what she wanted, those poor men.

“Okay well. Let's make a deal. I’ll leave you these two book, don’t make that face they are mostly pictures, and I��ll leave you for today. However when I come back tomorrow, you better be able to tell me five different fabrics and where they are from and we won’t have class for the rest of the week that way you can focus on the ball that's been held on Friday?”

The smile that grew on Princess' face was wicked. “Deal!” She stood and took the books. “I’m just happy I won’t have to see that hideous outfit for the rest of the week.” She pointed at Blossom's gown.

It was a light brown skirt with leather belt and a white blouse, Blossom thought it was rather lovely considering her little sister Bubbles had made it.

“Alright then.” She rolled her eyes, gosh she hated her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Princess was already out of the door before she could blink, but she didn’t care. She turned and placed the rest of the scrolls and books on the proper shelves of the private library. The king, who had never spared a single expense in his life, made sure that practically every title written was stuffed inside the room. And he gave Blossom personal access to any of the books since she was one of the few who could read and bothered to do so as well.

She skimmed the shelf, her fingers tracing over the many velvet blinds. So many stories to be read. She grabbed three different ones before slipping them into her satchel. She blew out the candles and pushed in the chairs before leaving the grand room.

The king had offered her a key to her own private quarters but she would rather stay with her father and sisters than let Princess yell at her at any hour she decided. Yes, much rather.

-- Princess could hardly contain herself as she stood next to her father in the courtyard. Before them,a dozen or so carriages were pulling up, each one containing a handsome suitor. Some are princes, others are men from rich families. Either way, they were all lining up to see the Princess and hopefully marry her.

“I don't know why we are here.” Boomer complained.

“Why the fuck do you care?” Butch asked. “You’re the youngest, you are off the hook.” He laughed.

Boomer laughed. The carriage stopped as it was in line to enter the gate. Boomer grabbed the handle and opened it up, ignoring the protests from his brothers. “Sorry boys but I’m going to ditch the collar and go see the local girls.” He winked and strolled off.

Butch propped his feet up on the empty space. “So big bro.” he slapped the back of his brother. “You think you’re gonna be the hot piece of ass to win the princesses heart?” He laughed. Brick rolled his eyes as the carriage rolled forward.

“She is rich.” he mumbled. “I mean I'm probably the best candidate.” Arrogant.

The carriage stopped once more and Brick looked to his brother who was impatiently tapping his leg. “You can go too. It's probably best that you don’t embarrass us and the entire kingdom.”

“Thanks bro.” Butch wiped a fake tear from his eyes. “My lady said she was docking at these ports so im gonna go try and get some by sundown-”

“Goodbye Butch.” And he was shoved out of the carriage.

Brick could finally take in the piece and quiet. They had only been traveling for three days and it was a miracle he hadn’t killed his brothers yet. Sometimes he hated this lifestyle. He was no prince but he and his brothers were adopted by an extremely rich guy who wanted to make a name for himself and create three prodigies. In the end he created a walking disaster who breaks everything and wolf whistles at anything with long legs and the other one is like a puppy constantly running around and yapping constantly. For Brick he is just an arrogant asshole who actually does what she's told, if there's something in it for him.

Which is why he was on his way to try and get married. He didn’t want to be because frankly, no woman ever met his standards. They could be beautiful and nice and chatty but there was something missing a certain depth. But with a princess at stake, he was hoping for a lady who was well off and smart.

--- He was wrong. She was nothing like he thought. Sure she was pretty but she was mean to her staff, which he understood cause he could be a pain in the ass. But her voice, that high pitched squeaking, he was sick of her already. The moment he stepped out of the claustrophobic nightmare of a ride, she was in his face already fanning over him.

Those bright yellow dresses clashed with her hair and the light beaming off of her crown almost took out his eyes. She had said about forty different things to him but he was done. He wanted to grab his brothers, turn around and escape this hell hole.

After a short conversation and her rushing to the next dopey guy, he was shown to his quarters, of course Princess, who names their child Princess? Was their tour guide.

“And this is the library. It's plain and boring but if you ever need a quiet space or to watch me brush up on my French, you are more than welcome to go there.” Her arm was looped between two men and Brick was happy he was at the back of the pack, what was there, twelve, ten boys? He was really doubting his chances but at this point, he didn’t care.

They began to pass those doors and as the last one there, they opened. The group ahead had turned the corner but he was taken down by that massive door. He fell with a thud and was about to scold the living daylights out of whoever dared to do that.

“What the hell is your-” he looked up. Pink. Vibrant pink like the sunsets and soft like a rose. He gulped as he lost his voice completely.

“Oh I am so sorry!” the woman said as she helped him up. “Usually no one was in these halls but perhaps I should be more careful.” She began to ramble.

All that hostile rage had dissipated as he watched her lips move. She was much different from Princess. Her hair was ginger like hers but it was softer and had more copper tones. She was taller than her too and matched his height better. Her voice, it was like butter and she spoke in such a way that he couldn't describe.

He looked down to see books laying there and picked them up, handing them to her. Why would she have books? Especially these titles, even from the looks of them they were difficult to read, even for him.

“Do you read?’ he asked. Of course she didn’t.

“Oh yes. I am actually Princess’s teacher.” She said but didn’t seem thrilled.

He was in awe. She was already something more than that damn spoiled brat. She didn’t wear anything special like the maids did. In fact they were more like commoner's clothes than anything.

“You don’t look like you belong here.” He blurted out and she scoffed.

“I beg your pardon.” She crossed her arms. She was used to Princess insulting her any chance she got but it would be a cold day in hell before she would allow someone else to do so. “Do you not think I could possibly be the royal teacher?” He felt her words like a threat.

“No it’s just, this is a high piece of literature.”

“It’s a simple book really.”

Oh. So she could read. Read well.

“Well yes but-”

“But nothing.” her words were like ice as she grabbed the books from his hands. Blossom looked at his badge. “I am so sorry I didn’t realize that you were a man of importance.” She sounded bitter. “I shouldn’t keep you. I wouldn't want the princess knowing that a peasant interrupted time with her boy toy.”

She turned and stomped off. Even as the pout sprouted onto her face she looked, dare he say stunning? The sophistication and elegance rivaled that of Princess and even though she had just destroyed his ego for a good few moments, he never felt more alive and thrilled. A woman standing up to his level when everyone was beneath him? Never heard of before but this new piece that has entered his game, he was loving every second of it.

He turned on his heel and found his way back to the group. He wasn’t here for the crown anymore.

-- Sometimes she wondered what would happen if she just left. Run away from this village and go see the world. Of course that's what her sister did. Kinda. She was a captain of one of the kingdom's ships, basically her job was to travel and trade with other places, she liked to call herself a pirate. Blossom gave up trying to change her mind.

She could join her sister but she hated ships anyways. Plus Buttercup had gotten hitched last year to some random guy she met at a port stop, Blossom had met him once before and thought she was crazy for marrying someone. But after a delightful five minute conversation, she decided that he was best for her. If anyone could handle her rebellious lifestyle and the seven seas, then he must be good.

She was thankful that today would be her last day with Princess, well until the next week, but she could catch up on reading and maybe take her students to the docks or the forest for a lesson. Her mind was wandering to far off places and before she knew it, she was entering the library.

She furrowed her brow as she noticed the chairs arranged facing her table. She dismissed whatever thought that was and began to set up Princess’s test as promised. She had pictures, drawn by Bubbles of course, and she placed them on the table.

“This should be easy.” And soon the doors opened. Blossoms eyes widened as the Princess walked in with that snobbish strut as a group of men followed behind. “Oh no.” Blossom whispered to herself. She agreed to test Princess, not the entire population of suitors.

“And this woman right here is my teacher. She's a poor peasant girl so ignore her scrap of clothing.” The room erupted in laughter as Princess’s annoying voice trailed through her ears. Princess was already testing her patience, who makes fun of someone with less money? An awful person that's who.

Blossom bit her tongue as Princess took her seat. The rows of men were now staring at them, whispering. She let her eyes rake over the small crowd when her eyes landed on a familiar pair. The man she hit with the door. She completely forgot that he was here for marriage purposes. Blossom shook her head and slammed a book shut, capturing everyone's attention.

If Princess wanted to be a bigger brat than usual, fine, she could play that game.

“Alright your majesty, are you ready for your test.” Blossom turned towards the group of men. “You see I believe it is important that a leader understands even the simplest things about other countries, especially the ones that could be potential partners. So this fine lad is incredibly bright so her test is simple. I laid our pictures of fabrics from many different places, some even from your own kingdoms. I have no doubt that she can match all twenty five.” She turned on her heel towards the princess who looked angry, good.

“You said five!” Her tone laced with fire.

Blossom was one good actress. She paused and took a step back, masking her voice. “Yes five for a warm up but you my soon queen, you must be able to name all of them right? I did teach you them after all.” She smirked. “But if you can't, that's okay, why don’t we do your five and the rest of these fine gentlemen can finish, after all, a leader should know these things.” If they wanted to be rude, then a challenge they must complete.

“Princess go ahead and match five and then will have the rest join.” She looked at the men. Scared looks were on their faces except for one, door man. He seemed relaxed and had a poker face on.

Princess huffed and walked up to the table. She recognized a few of the easy ones and placed them. Blossom watched as her hands shook and she looked up at her as she placed one down. Blossom saw she was moving to the wrong one and decided to play nice.

“Emerald kingdom is the same as the jewel.” She whispered and the princess moved the name towards the green one. She took a step back and smiled proudly.

“See easy peasy.” And she returned to her seat.

Blossom clasped her hands together. “Alright then, if any of you would like to try go for it, but if not, then you may be excused.”

None of the men stood and Blossom's polite smile fell. “Very well-” She watched as the door man, she should learn his name, stood and walked over.

“Quite a shame you could only name five your highness.” He said towards the princess who was now staring at him with a gaping mouth. Blossom raised her brows as she could not believe he would disrespect her like that. He quickly took the names and placed them in record time before their matching pictures.

He turned to see Blossom watching him. Her eyes held this twinkled that he couldn’t quite place and he made sure to switch two of the names last minute.

“Care to check my work Miss…”

“Blossom.” She finished and walked over to him. She stood next to him and looked over the table. She could feel his stare but unlike the others, she didn’t feel small or meak. She smiled softly as she picked up two of them.

“Very impressive but Camilla has velvet and Widows Valley has ivory silk.” Her eyes met his. She almost let out a gasp as she stared at a breathtaking deep red. She had never seen such enchanting eyes before.

“Silk like a spider. Forgive me for my mistake.” He took her hand and placed a delicate kiss to the top of her hand. She felt the flames rush to her cheeks and heard a gasp come from Princes mouth.

Her eyes shot open and she took her hand away fast and returned to her teacherly poise. “Yes well that is alright but very good. Princess you should learn something and apply yourself more, I'm not going to tell you again but a promise is a promise so i will be seeing you next week for your next lesson.” She quickly walked to the other table and grabbed her bag and shoved everything in it.

She knew the princess was going to throw a fit. How could he treat her like that? In front of Princess nonetheless. She was thankful to hear the sound of feet exiting. Someone had come up behind her and whispered in her ear.

“You’ll be lucky if you make next week you meddling whore.” Princess sneered and Blossom turned around to yell at her but the group of men were waiting by the door just watching to see the peasant girl slip up.

“I have no interest in your games Princess, maybe if you tried harder, you wouldn’t have to rely on your crown or body.” She could play dirty and the princess turned with a scoff.

“No man would ever love a woman like you, even if you can read, you are no prize.” She stomped off and let Blossom with a clenched jaw and matching fists.

The door slammed shut and now she was alone. “Stupid bitch.” She sneered. She rarely used foul language but in times like theses, she allowed it.

“She sure is.” Blossom dropped her book and her head snapped left.

Brick was still standing here as if he never moved but she swore she saw him leave. “I-I would never-” He held his hand up.

“I see the way she treats you Miss Blossom, it's okay to curse out the villain. And my apologies for causing such a scene.” He said bluntly.

“Somehow I don’t believe you.” She narrowed her eyes. “You seem like you know what you’re doing, no matter the consequences.”

He bit back a laugh and moved closer to her. “Oh I am. I have no interest with that spoiled girl. Not one maiden has ever impressed me enough to care.”

“How insightful.”

“That is until you.” he smirked and she felt her cheeks flush for the hundred times. He was showing his arrogant side. The one many girls fawned over because they mistook it for a form of lust but it rubbed Blossom the wrong way.

“Me correcting your simple mistake is not very impressive.”

“Who said I made the mistake? I know very well that Widows Peak is silk, that is my home base after all.” he stepped closer until he leaned on the desk with his arm. He peered down at her, almost like a challenge but she stood strong.

“Well unfortunately, I’ve never met a man who could qualify my own standards.”

“Never?” he leaned closer but she refused to give up. Their noses would touch if he came closer.

“Never.” She stated and they were now in a showdown. Red to pink. Pink to red. Never had the other met a more worthy opponent.

“Well Miss Blossom, I think that I should prove you wrong with a date.”

“No thank you.” He blinked. Wait what?

“Excuse me? Do you know-”

“No I don’t and I simply do not care.” She snapped.

Blossom went back to her bag. “Like I told Princess, I have no interest in any of these men. Especially not ones who would stand by and let another belittle another. No thank you, i am quite happy on my own but there are a bunch of other fine maidens who would probably love your company.” She passed him and he grabbed her arm and spun her around, dipping her. The bright red ribbon holding her hair into a fine bun had unraveled and now fell to a long ponytail.

A small scream let her lips as she was now being held by her waist over the ground. “What are you.” Her eyes darkened.

“Brick. Call me Brick, none of that sir or lord crap either.” He brought her closer smoothly. His smile was large and his eyes narrowed as her cheeks puffed out and she looked a little angry. “You did hit me with a door and I don’t think the royal pain in the ass would appreciate it if she knew. So Miss Blossom, would you accompany me to the ball on Friday?”

No. no. no. no. Princess would kill her. Absolutely murder her with a strand of pearls. She could lose her job, her livelihood. The rumors she could spread. She would destroy her reputation for sure. Her mind was screaming telling her to push him away and tell him to go bother another lady.

“Fine but I demand to be wooed.” she spat and he smiled and returned her to the upright position. She felt flustered and in shock but also introduced. No one had ever dipped her or held her so gently.

“Oh you shall be wooed M’lady.” He winked and turned away to walk out the door.

She let out the breath she was holding when he was finally gone and pulled out her fan. “He is the...worst.” But she didn’t fully believe it. ---- Wednesday found herself in the school yard with her students. She was ecstatic to now have a bunch of little girls added to this year's class. After convincing many mothers that their daughters' futures could be brighter with some knowledge, they happily agreed. She was thankful that her own father taught her the basics and she tried to teach Bubbles and Buttercup how to read and write but you could only keep them interested before a pretty dress or a sailboat distracted them.

“Bye bye Miss Blossom!” Her students waved as they left the yard to return home. She loved and adored her students. Their bright minds and curious thoughts, she could never get sick of them and they were much better students than Princess ever was.

“Miss Blossom there is a fancy man in the classroom.” Robin's small hand clung to her dress.

“Fancy man?” She whispered to herself before sending Robin off towards her mother. She entered the room to find Brick leaning against her desk.

“May i help you?” She asked with her arms crossed. “I do believe Friday is the meeting time.”

He shrugged and handed her an arrangement of flowers. Her mouth fell open as she gazed at them. They were wrapped with a ribbon of fine quality, and was probably worth more than her own outfit.

“I am well aware of that but I never said i wouldn’t see you before.” he glanced at the flowers then back at her. “Have you never received flowers before.” he asked like it was a dumb question.

“Oh no.” She took them carefully and placed them in the vase that held a few flowers her students had picked, and they were dying.

“I'm genuinely surprised that men aren’t knocking on the door for your hand.”

He saw her eyes dull. “Not too many men are keen on a lady being smarter and taller than them.” She shrugged and for some reason that made him mad. She was a beautiful woman no doubt, her beauty could be that of a princess but she didn’t have that royal aura about her. No she was better but didn’t know it.

“A man threatened by a lady is no man at all. If he can not see that then he deserves nothing.”

She took in his words. Maybe this was his way of apologizing without out damaging his pride, she would probably do the same thing but she wouldn’t let him off so easily.

She hummed. “So Brick just the flowers or are you going to actually impress me?” She matched his cocky attitude and it has been a long time, or the first since he had ever felt frazzled by a woman. He was used to catching him off guard but even by her everything nice charm and sophisticated posture, he was certain that she would be the death of him.

Even though he had just met her, he was certain they were made for each other. Butch would kill him if he every said that out loud though. He smiled before taking her hand. “Then prepared to be impressed.”

I hope you enjoy and part 2 shall be up tomorrow

#ppg x rrb #reds fanfic #reds #blossom x brick #blossom ppg #ppg fanfic #thewritingstar #thepowerpuffgirls #therowdyruff boys #royal au #enemies to lovers

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ninaahelvar · 4 years

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Chivalry Fell On Its Sword (17/23)

Summary: All Arya wanted so to feel normal and go outside of the damn castle. Now, through a series of unfortunate, she’s stuck with a bodyguard that she accidentally flirted with: Gendry Waters.

AO3

A/N: me? edit a chapter? unlikely. I'm sorry for all the mistakes. also, I know my breaks between chapters can sometimes be long and very infuriating as a reader, but right now, for my own creative energy, i’ve decided to take a break from cfois. This is only for a short time, but i’m so creatively burnt out that i’m not working on anything. I will update on tumblr and twitter when things are picking back up, but right now i’m sorry you have to wait for more. xx

Arya heard the shots, and when Robb went down, she thought the worst. Until she saw Gendry. He staggered before he eventually fell to the ground. In a moment, Arya saw everything she had held so close slip from her hands. He tried to be a strong man, holding onto his chest, and all she wanted to do was run across the short distance to him to find out what the hell just happened. He was wearing a vest, wasn’t he? How could he go down like that?

Instead, she was whisked away against her better wishes and escorted to their safe point. Throughout the entire car journey, Arya found herself begging to go back, because above everything else, she didn’t want her last memory of the man she loved to be tainted by that touch of blood on his lips as he choked for air.

In the car, Arya was with Sansa and Bran, her brother in Sandor’s arms as they were told to get to a secure location. She found out later that the reason Sandor was carrying Bran was because once the shots were fired, they didn’t have time to get the chair in the car. They would have to get Bran a new one, as they weren’t sure if the chair would have made it through the chaos of the events.

It was hard for Arya to concentrate when so many different reports were going around. They were whisked from one place to another, trying to get as much information out of each of them on the attack. Arya found it hard to explain what went wrong. All she remembered was the joy that washed away after she saw Robb get knocked away, but Gendry went down. She was overcome that finding the words to explain what went wrong were so far from who she was in that moment.

Arya knew she was a pistol - she understood that she was reckless, blazing through her life and shooting through other’s lives like nothing. But in a moment of pure rage, hatred, and grief, she found Jon, who had managed to get the suspect into an interrogation room. When their eyes met, it was as if Jon knew more than Arya. she hadn’t even known how she got there, just that she found them.

She began to storm past her brother when he caught her arm and dragged her away like it was nothing. Arya fought against him, tearing his hands from her every time he put them back ont.

“Get your hands off of me!” she snarled, wrenching herself away, trying to leap out of his grip until he held onto her by her waist, picking her up and dragging her off.

“Arya you can’t go in there!” Jon said just as Arya brought an elbow down into his shoulder. He crumbled, letting her go for just a moment, not even enough to let her escape. She hated that he could get her to stay.

“I deserve to pummel that asshole within an inch of his life!” she roared, trying to pull away. The door was so fucking close, she could almost touch it, but sanity kept her in place. It was her brother’s doing, but it knocked her. “Please Jon, please let me in,” she whimpered, turning back to him.

“I can’t do that, you know I can’t,” he said, and Arya beat her fists against his chest. It was only a few fists later that her hands hit with less impact, and her heart was lurching into her throat.

“Arya,” Jon whispered to her, her name a comfort when it came from his lips.

“My boyfriend and love of my life just got shot. I don’t know if he’d gonna live or not. So please, let me be mad,” she asked in a huff. Jon held her by the bicep, lowering them down to the ground until they completely on the floor. Arya watched as Jon began taking deep breaths, and her having the follow suit. When she was calm, she felt herself become weak, as though her pain was dwindled by her rage. But she didn’t want it to, as when the pain rose, her eyes could spring a leak at any moment and she’d be bawling her eyes out for hours.

“Let’s go to the hospital.” The words made Arya look up at him. He gave a soft nod of confirmation that he was serious. He’d take her there, not keep her away like everyone else would have.

Part of her wanted to argue, but the way Jon looked at her, pleaded with her to move an inch for him was enough to get her to nod. From there, it was just following Jon until she felt like she wasn’t going to cry. She could hold it in as long as she followed Jon. That’s what she told herself anyway.

By the time they got there, Arya found her mother and father were talking with a doctor. Arya and Jon ran to them - well, more so, Arya ran to them, Jon was just keeping up. Catelyn draped her arm over Arya’s shoulder, holding her close and kissing her forehead.

“The prince is just fine. A few scraps and bruises, but nothing serious,” the doctor explained, as though this would have been his second or third time doing so, it was just more family coming to explain to.

“And the bodyguard?” Arya questioned. The doctor then looked at her, sorrowful eyes that wouldn’t let her heart not break. With a sigh, the doctor pointed to two parts of his torso; one finger pressed to his side, along where his kidneys were, the other pointed at his heart.

“He was hit three times. Two hit his side, but the one that made impact with his chest was the one that cause the most damage. We’d be surprised if he felt the two to the side without how brutally the third went through him.”

“He was wearing a vest wasn’t he?” She’d kill him if he hadn’t - stupid, reckless bullheaded asshole.

“If he hadn’t worn the vest, the bullet at his chest would have gone straight through him instead of how it landed. The possibility that it ripped through his heart and lungs would have been greater than the position of the bullets. He’s still in surgery, so we won’t know his condition for some time, we suggest waiting where you’re comfortable.”

With that, the doctor gave one final nod, taking the family to Robb who was secluded amongst other patients. From the corner of Arya’s eye, she saw the other patients all gossiping and wondering what happened until the news interrupted programs on the waiting room tvs. Every second of her life was on display for the world’s consumption, and part of Arya felt like shattering.

“I have to call Tailya. Has anyone called her yet?” Arya suddenly realised, looking around. Jon looked at her, giving her a soft shrug.

“Not that I know of,” Jon said.

“I should call her,” Arya said, hands roaming over her form to try and find her phone. Was it even in her pockets or did she have a purse that she completely forgot about. Jon suddenly took Arya’s wrist, taking her to sit amongst the others in the waiting room, sitting her down and kneeling in front of her.

“Arya, maybe I should. Why don’t I get dad so he can -”

“Can you get mum?” she interrupted. Jon stood, hand to her cheek.

“Yeah. Of course,” he said, phone pressed to his ear, leaning down and kissing her crown. “Yes, am I speaking with Tailya Waters? It’s Jon Snow from the palace. I’m sorry I have some…” Jon left before Arya could catch more of his words. Arya’s heart broke for Tailya. It wasn’t like she could have foreseen this happening, or even if she did, she hated that Tailya had to get that call. Part of her wished she’d made the call, but she knew if she’d talked to his mother, she could have very well come apart at the seams.

With Jon gone and her mother at her side, Arya held onto her hand, keeping herself calm. Catelyn was patient until she was beckoned away. The pair didn’t wish to part, but Arya knew her mother’s responsibility to the public and said it was fine. Once she was alone again, Arya was left with her thoughts - the ones that festered and fed into the notion that she was bound to loneliness for the rest of her life.

It took an hour before she saw Gendry. He was wheeled out and into a seperate room. Arya rushed to the doctor that she had seen before, taking his arm and his attention in one moment.

“How he is?” Arya asked, not caring how ridiculous or desperate she looked. She just needed to know more than seeing the man she loved lying in a bed. She hadn’t even gotten a proper look at him, she just knew it was him. The doctor took a moment, looking over to Gendry’s room before he sighed, combing back his hair

“He’s stable for now. There was a lot of damage, but we think he’s been through the worst of it,” he said, though he extended a hand to her shoulder, almost in warning, not to give hope a chance of latching in her chest, “we’ll need to monitor him for the next few days.” Arya gave a nod before she looked at the door.

She wanted to look in, but couldn’t bring herself to. Everything in her told her not to look - she wasn’t the same Arya she thought she was when it came to Gendry. Every day she was the tough, unbeatable woman that the world rallied behind for being an outrageous royal princess. But with him, all she was, was a woman that loved a man, simply in love. And all she could do was shatter when he was broken.

“I don’t understand how a goddamn bullet got through a bulletproof vest,” Arya said, pacing across the length of Gendry’s door. Jon stood close by, her parents and Robb having left an hour before.

“It was a combat weapon. They’re designed to do the most impact, including going through bulletproof vests. Like the doctor said, if he hadn’t worn that, it would have torn up his insides and we’d be having a different conversation,”

“I’m Tailya Waters, I’m just trying to -”

“Tailya! Over here!” Arya called. Tailya perked when seeing her, rushing over and seeing that the door was right behind her. Upon the two seeing each other, Jon gave a simple nod and left the pair.

“I want to see him,” Tailya asked. Arya hurried a nod, showing her the door. As Tailya moved past her, Arya turned - maybe it was the freedom of an open door that had her scared - that she’d jump inside and never leave. “Sweetheart?” she said before Arya looked up. With her hand extended, Tailya gave a tender smile. Arya took it and guided them both into the room. Upon seeing him, Tailya whimpered, gripping harder into Arya’s shaking hand.

As always, Arya remained strong, but had to admit, once seeing Gendry hooked up to all those machines, she almost fell to the ground. Taking Tailya to Gendry’s bedside, his mother gripped tight to his hand as Arya went around to the other side, combing the hair out of his face, just to see him. Gendry didn’t seem like he was in pain, just an uncomfortable sleep.

Why did it feel like her heart was breaking over everything.

Suddenly a phone started to ring, making Tailya scramble for her phone in her bag.

“Shit, why now?” Tailya said with a sniffle in her voice. In a moment she was gone, leaving Arya alone with Gendry. He was defenseless, a man bound to his sleep, living through a pain that he never asked for.

Arya couldn’t help it, she burst into tears, holding him with all her might. He didn’t touch her or budge as she held onto his sleeping form, and it only made her cry the harder. She didn’t care who saw her, or even if it was published in all the papers. She just wanted to hold him until he held her back. At this rate, however, there wasn’t a likely chance of that happening. As her tears dried up, Tailya coming back, Arya sat back down next to him, holding onto his hand as his mother held his other.

Tailya explained that she had to leave the pub abruptly, which meant her regulars were phoning in to find out the news, so every time she got a call, Arya sat by her, holding her hand and making sure she was ok. It the least she could do without taking the calls herself. It wasn’t like Arya could say much to them either.

On Arya’s end, she was called by Sansa every few hours. Even when she should have been asleep, Sansa phoned, checking up on both of them. Arya didn’t know exactly what happened between Gendry and Sansa in the short time they were paired together, but they became close enough that Sansa considered him a friend. It warmed Arya’s heart in the past - now it felt like it was breaking because Sansa may lose a friend she only just scarcely had.

The next morning, once she had stretched out her back from the uncomfortable armchair she slept in, Arya found her phone, texting the group on Gendry’s condition and letting them know that she’d loved to be cheered up, in spite of the pain she was feeling.

By 7am, her family had conjured a smile from her.

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’

7:03am - Bran: wow, john mulaney foresaw the events of the day

7:05am - Rickon: bruh the tax payers paid for that :(((

7:05am - Rickon: that wheelchair is worth more than bran is

7:06am - Sansa: hes like 8th in line for the throne we can afford to lose him

7:07am - Bran: i am DISABLED

7:07am - Bran: and still i get fucking dragged

7:10am - Jon: is it sad that my first thought was ‘you get dragged everywhere anyway’

7:10am - Bran: JONATHAN!

7:11am - Jon: please don’t use my full name

7:12am - Sansa: nice burn, but Jon you don’t have a name, you gave one to yourself cause you were lonely

7:13am - Jon: I thought we were making fun of Bran, not me

7:13am - Sansa: no one is safe

Arya looked through her phone, laughing as she felt tears fill her eyes. It made it harder to see, but she didn’t care. It was the only thing keeping her happy when the man she loved remained in a bed with machines hooked up to him. It wasn’t what he deserved, but he had put his life in danger before. He worked hard to be good at what he did - he protected Robb, but at the cost of his life. It was the hardest thing she’d ever have to do - wait to see if he’d ever wake up. They weren’t sure, it wasn’t even clear if he’d ever fully recover.

Over the course of a few days, Gendry was unhooked from machines, able to breathe on his own, it was just a waiting game until he woke up. The doctors were happy with his stitches, and could see if he woke up he’d have no complications. It was just the waiting that was killing Arya.

It had been nearly a week since Gendry had been admitted to the hospital. His mum found it hard to take herself away from work, and every time she visited, she’d end up crying and having to leave. Arya understood. Most days, she’d go into the bathroom to steal away her cries so no one would know. Everything was sacred in that room - all secrets she whispered to him were kept in that room like they had done in her bed so many countless times.

In the meantime, the tv played, endless shows that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Arya flicked through her phone, going through some emails as a show began with ridiculous music.

“It’s sunday so you all know what that means! It’s time for the North daily's which heartthRobb is it?”

Arya scoffed at the name, the music getting dramatic, and for a split second, Arya got interested. Picking up her phone, taking a video of the events that unfolded.

“Here we have a picture of Robb or Richard at yet another event from this week. So Shyen, our chosen audience member, you know the rules.”

“I can’t believe this is a real fucking show,” Arya whispered, her hands shaking as she laughed.

“Tell us which heartthrobb it is, and you'll win this weeks prize of a $1000 gift voucher to leading supermarket Winter's Harvest.”

On the screen flashed a picture that Arya had to legitimately question whether or not it was her brother or not. It could have been Robb or Richard, as they both decided to sport that stupid grey streak in their hair. Arya contemplated, almost guessing but faltered at the last second.

“Robb. I’d know his dumb head anywhere.” It was like the hum of a drum that echoed around the room. Arya shot her attention from the screen to the sleeping man beside her, but instead of a calm man who had just been shot, she saw a gorgeous smile that looked weak but utterly happy. She dropped her phone in an instant.

“Gendry!” she yelled, throwing herself over him, only pulling back once she heard him wince. “Don’t you ever do that again,” Arya warned him, watching as he chuckled. She couldn’t help herself - she surged forward, stealing the smile from his lips and making it hers upon her own. When he sighed against her, Arya cried, a breath of life she hadn’t thought she’d ever be able to have again. His tired arms came around her, pulling her onto the bed, both holding onto each other with every ounce of love they could spare in that moment.

*~*~*

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’

8:46pm - Bran: did you guys see how fucking fast she dropped her phone when she realised he woke up? That was iconic

8:47pm - Ygritte: kinda romantic

8:48pm - Robb: ygritte? In this chat?

8:49pm - Ygritte: this is jon typing

8:50pm - Sansa: now that I believe

8:51pm - Jon: Ygritte is in another country, you guys know this!

8:52pm - Rickon: jon stop lying, we know you have ygritte’s phone!

8:53pm - Jon: i hate you guys

*~*~*

Out of all the things about being shot Gendry hated, it was mostly having to stay in his fucking bed. The hospital was small and made him feel like he was going to kick at the end and break the goddamn bed was sleeping in. The food sucked too but it was a hospital so he didn’t complain as much.

What he did like, though, was the fact that Arya kissed him more than she ever had before. It was him that usually had to steal kisses when she wasn’t looking. Now, it was Arya that just interrupted him mid sentence to just kiss him. He didn’t know how much he worried her, but it must have hurt her. He hated that he had done it again, without even meaning to. He understood his role as a bodyguard, and it was always to put himself in between danger and his protectee.

When he was home, he liked it a hell of a lot more than the hospital room. He liked the simplicity of his home, even if he had to keep packing for his new place. When Pod could, he came by and helped Gendry pack, but they weren’t exactly the most efficient pair around each other.

Then, he got an unusual call. Gendry wasn’t sure what to make of it. He still had a ways to go for recovery, but the palace had called and asked for him to come in, he didn’t know what to make of it. They gave vague instructions, so he followed them the next day.

With a tight breath, he walked into the palace. He felt like he wasn’t walking straight, and constantly felt the need to hold his side as though it were going to burst open a stitch or something. When he saw the stairs, true fear set in, because there was a very likely chance he’d pop something on the ascent.

“Gendry!” A voice yelled, echoing around the foyer. Without even a second to think or brace himself, Arya had collided with him, arms around his neck and hanging onto him for dear life. The pair struggled to stay on their feet, but Gendry didn’t care when he could hear the playful giggles of his girlfriend. For a moment, he was glad he could hold her amidst the pain, he just wanted to be bound to her from that day on.

As she fell from his embrace, he held onto his side and she hissed as though she recognised her mistake once out his grip. Then, with her hand on his cheek, he felt like a weightless fool, bending down to her, their foreheads pressing to one another. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?” she asked with hope in her breath. It wasn’t like she saw him every day without fail, but she asked every day.

“I’m doing fine. A little fragile but I expected that,” he explained, smiling to here. As she parted from him, she looked him over as though seeing him standing there was particularly an amazing feat.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her smile spreading wider.

He gave a shrug - or something he should have called a shrug if one of his shoulders wasn’t as lame as it currently was. “Robb asked me to stop by.”

It was like this family was tuned into the front door opening, because the next thing Gendry saw was Robb rushing down the stairs as casually as someone could rush down stairs. Maybe the family was unused to visitors that anyone coming inside was a treat. Or someone could have told them in some way. Gendry never told Arya about people stopping by, but he was usually told. Maybe it was through those channels.

“Gendry! Gods, it’s good to see you.” Robb smiled before he embraced Gendry. It was a tender thing, as though he knew he couldn’t hold Gendry as tightly as someone who had saved his life should have been embraced. But Gendry didn’t mind. He loved the Starks, and although he wasn’t terribly big on affection - he didn’t mind it with them.

“You’re only saying that cause I didn’t die.” Gendry gauged Robb’s reaction, realising he wasn’t only speaking to Arya. To his surprise, Robb chuckled, slapping Gendry’s shoulder.

“Saved my life, man. I can’t thank you enough,” he said, and Gendry had some doubts it would be the last time.

“What’s this all about?”

“I wanted to explain what happened, and why you were hurt,” Robb said, his tone getting serious, hands in his pockets as he explained.

“Alright,” Gendry nodded, turning to Arya, taking her hand, kissing at her knuckles. “I’ll see you later, ok?” he asked. Arya stepped up, kissing Gendry briefly.

“Love you, don’t let him kick you around,” he smiled, allowing Arya to steal yet another kiss from his lips.

Gendry walked up the stairs slowly beside Robb, who explained what his schedule was, and that things were going to get more chaotic than he wants it to be, but he couldn’t stop it. Gendry had always been on the outside of their schedule, and knew that it took a lot out of everyone to be someone with the utmost authority. It was often for them to be more comfortable around other royals as it was a chance to breathe.

There were only a select few people that the royals were comfortable being informal around. Gendry was luck to be one of them, with the entire family it seemed. Especially in such a short time. Their security and palace staff were an exception, but they were considered as much part of the Stark household as any other.

Once inside Robb’s office, Gendry took a seat, and groaned once his body had relaxed into it. He wasn’t sure how long the pain would last, but it didn’t seem to be giving up any time soon. As he got comfortable, Robb sat down next to Gendry instead of across from him like he anticipated.

“So,” Robb started, giving himself a moment before he continued, as though the words were there, but somehow hard to find. “I can’t even begin to describe how thankful I am. I’m not sure to saying thank you to people who save my life,” he said, and Gendry shook his head, reaching over and gripping Robb’s shoulder.

“It must be a very foreign feeling, I’m sure,” he said.

“Dude, I wish you’d drop the formal shit for a second,” Robb scoffed.

“Ok,” Gendry laughed, before he took his own breath - finding words that were there but somehow not. Instead, he played it off as best he could. “Robb, I don’t want me taking a bullet for you to be some sort of sign that I might like or even...respect you.”

“Fuck you,” Robb blurted before he cracked into a giant smile. “I’m serious though, you risked your life for me and I can’t thank you enough for it,” he said.

“Just doing my job.”

Then, as much as they had been messing around, it seemed like Robb realised his place. He stood and walked around the desk. “The guy we got talked almost instantly. We found out he was from a fringe group known as the faceless men. They were set on dismantling the seven kingdoms. There were many attacks all on the same day. We think their main goal was to cause as much chaos as possible and divide the kingdoms, break us apart. Killing me wouldn’t have made the North crumble. I have like twelve siblings,” he said, sitting down, chuckling but still remained somewhat solemn.

“Are you doing ok?” gendry asked.

“Oh yeah I’m fine. Talisa slapped me for scaring her, but other than that I’m good,” he shrugged, his hand going to his mouth as his elbow met the table, as though he were thinking of something else. Gendry had his suspicions.

“Ever since waking up, Arya has been scaring me more than a gunman does,” Gendry admitted.

“Why? Too much?” Robb asked with a softer voice, as though Arya would walk in and hear what they were saying.

“She just fucking clocks me every time she sees me,” Gendry said, smirk on his lips.

“She punches you?” Robb asked with a furrowed brow.

“No! She hugs me like her life depends on it, and I’ve got like...bullet wounds in me. I’m never going to heal at this rate,” he said, and the two laughed, shaking their head at the ridiculousness of their Arya.

“She loves you. If she didn’t hug you like her life depends on it, you’re not worth it for her,” Robb reminded.

“I know,” he confirmed, though he didn’t need to be reminded.

“We’re having a big meeting with the other kingdoms. You won’t need to get to know any of them, but I’m sure some of them would like to meet you, if that’s ok?” Robb informed, and Gendry was a little taken back. He hadn’t been so included in an event like this before. He was always on the sidelines, but now Gendry was thrust into the limelight.

“That’s fine. When is it?” Gendry played off his nerves, but he felt them , the anxiousness in his chest still there in spite of his calm appearance.

“In a few days, we’ll make sure that everything is in order. As you won’t be staff, but a special guest, we’ll send through details,” Robb smiled, and Gendry smiled back. Standing and taking a step forward to shake Robb’s hand.

“Thanks,” he said, and as they shook each other’s hand there was a thought popped up at the back of his mind, and he had to question it. “Uh,” he started, taking a step back and putting his hands behind his back. “Will King Robert be there?”

“So far he’s said yes, so I suspect so,” Robb said with a nod, and went back to his work, not questioning Gendry’s enquiry.

With a breath, Gendry left Robb’s office and wandered the halls to go back to the room where he spent most of his time. Before he even managed to get there, his spitfire of a girlfriend found him first, holding onto his arm and guiding them back to her room. He explained the situation, and then the wandering thought that greeting people would work a hell of a lot better if he had any idea of who all the royals were.

In Arya’s room, lying on her bed and his head in her lap, he tried to rattle off all the people he knew from memory. It wasn’t great, but he was trying. “So, Dany, Drogo, Lannisters, Robert,” Gendry stopped once the memory of the one family he knew was gone, the thought pressing to his temple but lost so quickly. “Ah fuck, who else will be there?” he cursed. Arya’s fingers were in his hair, scratching at his scalp.

“Do you want me to quiz you?” she said with a little laugh in her voice.

Looking up at her, watching as she smiled so tenderly, he wanted to remain angry at his inability to remember anything, but just told her his frustrations. “Look, I didn’t even know the royals I was coming to work for, Arry, how am I meant to know other fucking kingdoms?”

“Ok, so we’ll start with the easy ones. Daenerys Targaryen, queen of the crownlands. Tywin Lannister rules over The Westerlands,”

“You’re already going too fast,” Gendry huffed, covering his face.

“I heard something about a quiz!” A voice beamed, followed by the flare of red hair that came barrelling into the room and onto Arya’s bed.

“Why did you invite her?” Gendry groaned, just as Sansa moved over him, face wide with a devilish smile.

“I invited everyone,” Arya admitted, and Gendry shut his eyes. He sat up, resigned to the fate that was about to become his life.

“Oh god, let’s just go to the dining room and roast me on a spit,” he said, taking Arya’s hand and Sansa got on the group chat, everyone eventually meeting down in the dining room. Gendry sat with Arya, the two of them studying to help him as the family gathered. In the end, every member of the family was there, chairs all set up against the wall like a true audience, where Gendry was put on display as Bran sat in his chair, wheeling himself around as he went through flashcards with Arya occasionally to see if Gendry would be able to answer everything.

When everything was set up, Gendry was forced to sit in his chair in front of the family as Bran came over, and for the first time since getting in the dining room, he noticed what Bran was wearing. It immediately made Gendry roll his eyes. Of course this fucking family…

In a bright purple blazer that was shimmering when it caught the light, it was just as overtop as Gendry should have expected from Bran. Well, from the Starks in general.

“Ok! Welcome to the Stark Royal Quiz night! Our contestant for this evening is Gendry Waters, a known royal idiot that can’t pick out a Stark from a Tully!” he announced, sending the family into a round of giggles. Gendry rolled his eyes.

“I hate this, I really fucking hate this,” he groaned, covering his eyes.

“Come on Gendry! You’ve got this!” Talisa yelled. Gendry cracked a smile, shaking his head.

“Take your top off!” Rickon yelled.

“Stop objectifying my boyfriend,” Arya spat back.

“Please this is a family show,” Catelyn said, and the room erupted.

“Wish you’d told me that a year ago,” Ygritte said, drinking her beer as she winked over to Gendry. He frowned as Jon spat out a laugh, one that he hadn’t realised was going to come out. His fiancee was certainly a funny one. But Gendry had learnt that very quickly. Ygritte wasn’t afraid to be herself, even when it came to the royals around her.

“Now, Gendry, please tell us more about yourself,” Bran said, offering his hand over like he had a microphone.

“Are you serious right now?!”

“Tell us! Tell us!” The family - save the two parents amongst the group - roared back at him.

“You guys need to get a life,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning into Bran’s hand. “I’m Gendry Waters and I hate this,” he said.

“Good enough!” Bran said quickly, turning away and pandering back to his family. “What category will we start with?”

“Why are there categories now?” Gendry shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

“Because fuck you that’s why!” he said, “So! Family, name, lands, or other!”

“Please just ask me questions, this is going to kill me,” Gendry said, throwing his head back.

“Ok, fine, have it your way,” Bran said, an obvious huff of irritation in his voice. “Even with the seven kingdoms, there are some that are not connected to the mainland,” Bran started, and Gendry frowned.

“Isn’t there only one? Essos?” he replied.

There was a long pause, the family all huddled together as though they were judging Gendry’s answer. Then, they all turned to Bran. “You are correct! It was a trick question. Bonus points for the ruler of that kingdom,” he said, waiting for Gendry to answer.

“Dothraki. Specifically Khal Drogo,” Gendry finished.

“Off to a great start!” Bran said.

After that, it was entertainment for the rest of the family, who drank and laughed and roared in approval at all of Gendry’s answers, even when they were wrong. Gendry got into it as much as the rest of them, the answers feeling like second nature, but he still got frustrated when the answer was wrong.

“No, I swear to fuck it’s the Martells!” Gendry challenged in a shout.

“No, Dothraki! Next question,” Bran played off.

“Oh come the fuck on!” Gendry huffed, sitting back in his chair with his arms folded.

“It’s ok, Martell’s would be honoured you thought so highly of them!” Talisa joked, much to the family's surprise. Robb leaned over to his wife, kissing at her cheek. For a moment, so singular and special, Gendry wondered if that would be him one day - happily married to the woman that he loved.

Bran came shooting in with another question. “Which family….has some relation to the Stark family?” There was a pause in the room, waiting for him to answer.

“Uh fuck, ok, I know this,” Gendry said, holding up his hand, trying to think.

“You have ten seconds,” Bran said quickly, which shot Gendry’s attention back to him.

“No I don’t, there isn’t a time on this thing,” he reminded, as they hadn’t been playing with any sort of time limit throughout the other questions asked that evening.

“Five seconds,” Bran said again.

“Tully! Tully! It’s the Tully family!” Gendry shouted, purely out of gut instinct.

“That is…” Bran teased, “correct! The matriarch of the Stark family, Catelyn Stark, was once known as Catelyn Tully. Please take a bow,” Bran said, and much to the amazement of the room, Catelyn stood, doing her best bow and settling back into her chair. “Now, who will be attending on behalf of the Tully family on Sunday night?”

“Jon Arryn?” Gendry said, unsure. The Riverlands were a strange area, as they were once run by the Tully’s before it was passed to another family through a strange number of circumstances.

“Yes!” Bran said, before he grimaced. “Who will unfortunately bring our cousin Robin, but that’s a different day,” Bran said, to which all of the siblings laughed.

“Bran,” she warned, “at least it isn’t Edmure,” Catelyn remarked. Edmure often tried to be more than just a king, which led him to be an absent king and give his title to Jon Arryn.

“Ha! God, I hate that bastard,” Ned chuckled to himself.

“I get to make fun of my brother, you don’t,” she warned her husband with a jab in the ribs.

Bran then wheeled around the front of the crowd of his family quickly, doing a little stunt to draw everyone’s attention to him.

“Ok! Lightning round! Man all the people coming on sunday and the Kingdoms they preside over!” He shot out his question and Gendry knew he had to answer fast. He sat up straight, gripping hard to his knees.

“Tywin Lannister, Westerlands. Daenerys Targaryn, Crownlands. Khal Drogo, Essos. Jon Arryn, Riverlands,” he started, stopping himself as he thought. “Ok gimme a second!” he shouted as the family began to laugh and get more into the quiz. “Oberyn Martell, Dorne? You guys, so Ned Stark, The North. Robert Baratheon, Stormlands.” He finished, making sure he listed everyone by counting it down on his hand. It felt right, but he waited before Bran shouted out.

“Yes!”

“Wow, he got that quicker than Jon,” Sansa laughed, sipping at her gin, the one that she had been consistently drinking over the course of the night.

“One family event, I just want one family event where I’m not emotionally traumatised,” Jon shouted as everyone started to pack up for the night. As soon as the family started to move, it gave Gendry a chance to breathe, and Arya moved to him, taking him by the hand and linking their fingers together.

“Oh darlin, that’s never going to happen,” Ygritte said.

“Your future wife fits right in,” Robb said.

“Also! Why haven’t you guys told everyone!” Ygritte said quickly, jumping over to Talisa and Robb.

“Gendry was shot! Arya wasn’t exactly with it, you know?” he confessed. Gendry and Arya looked at each other.

“What news?” Arya asked. She held tight to his hand, but he was about to have his suspicions confirmed.

“Robb and Talisa are -”

“No way!” Sansa shouted, covering her mouth and jumping over to her brother and his wife.

“You guys aren’t!” Arya said next.

“We’re expecting!” Talisa said with an excited giggle. It felt heartening that Gendry was included in such an announcement with the family.

“Holy fuck I’m gonna be the cool uncle!” Bran shouted.

“Why can’t you be the disable uncle and I’m the cool uncle?” Rickon said, to which Bran shot him a look. “Yeah that’s fair,” he said, and everyone chuckled at the resignation of him. As the family congratulated the couple, Gendry and Arya walked down the stairs slowly, finding their way to the staff entrance, and sneaking away from the family.

Gendry pulled away, ready to go to his car, when Arya tugged hard on his hand. “Hey,” she said, stopping him and pulling him back to her.

“I should get home,” he reminded Arya. She sighed, resting her chin on his chest and looking up towards him.

“I love you,” she confessed, as though it were the first time. Gendry smiled, leaning down to her, stealing a kiss from her lips.

“I love you too,” he replied, kissing her once more.

“Thank you for dealing with my family tonight,” she replied, letting them sway back and forth. Ever since he was shot, Arya was far more open about her feelings, he found. She said everything she needed to - and although they were doing so before, Arya wasn’t afraid to confess that she was desperately in love with him. He felt the same all the time.

“I love your family. Even though they embarrass me,” he shrugged. Arya laughed, cupping his cheek.

“That’s what family is for,” she reminded.

“Feels like home,” Gendry confessed, feeling far too open for a moment. He wanted to tell Arya...say more than he had, but it was hard. How was he meant to say what he needed to when it meant revealing far too much of what he saw.

“Feels more like home when you’re there,” Arya said, a flash of red running over her cheeks. He wondered if they wanted the same things, or if he was fooling himself. He didn’t wish to get scared of their future, just hopeful of where it would lead. Fear could wait for another day, he reasoned.

“I should go,” he reminded, kissing her one last time, hands slipping from hers. “I love you. Sleep well,” he told her.

“I will,” she said, hands going behind her back as he walked away, constantly looking over his shoulder at her, “call if something happens,” she shouted.

“You’ll be my first call, I promise,” he yelled back in return.

***

The day came, and Gendry was wearing his best suit. Well, it was new purely because Jon and Robb took him out to get one that was suitable for a royal gathering. Gendry wanted to remind them that Khal Drogo would be there, and his attire wasn’t anything like the royal prince’s, but it would be a fruitless venture.

He fiddled with his tie as he met with Jon Arryn and Oberyn Martell. They all took photos and thanked him for his service to the crown. They also regarded his bravery, and said his service didn’t go unrecognised, even throughout other kingdoms. Before he was to meet with the Lannisters, Arya came over to him. She was wearing a nice navy suit and a white wilk blouse underneath. She was a fashionable princess thanks much to Sansa for this particular event.

“Stop fucking with your tie! It’s going to look different in all the pictures,” Arya warned him, straightening out his tie for the fourth time that day. He huffed, before she had to leave and go towards her family for some pictures with the Martells.

Gendry was sure he’d be seeing the Lannisters next, he was certain of it. Yet, when it came down to it, Gendry felt his heart in his throat when he saw King Robert next. He was stern, almost menacing as he came closer to him. Gendry stood up straighter, trying to be as presentable as possibly. It scared the shit out of him. Then, Robert stopped in front of him.

“Your majesty,” Gendry greeted, bowing to the king.

Robert smiled as they came face to face, then, he clapped Gendry on the shoulder. “Good work son, it was very brave of you for doing what you did,” he said, clearing his throat, as though he recognised Gendry for a moment but couldn’t place him.

“Thank you,” Gendry replied. The two stared at one another before Robert moved, turning on his heels and shouting as he saw Ned. Gendry met the Lannisters briefly before a familiar head of white hair came running through.

“Gendry!” Daenerys yelled, embracing Gendry and he held her back just as tightly. Their meeting was short the first time, but they left perfect impressions on the other. “I heard and instantly wanted to run, but I have a country to run and -”

“Bull!” Khal Drogo yelled, making everyone in the room jump.

“Drogo. You know he hasn’t met you before, stop scaring him,” Dany warned, swatting at his stomach lightly.

“Arya just talked about him and I know he’s big bullheaded idiot!”

“Thank you, Khal,” Gendry said back, offering to shake his hand. Drogo bat it away as he embraced Gendry off of his feet then back down again as he spoke.

“Drogo! You are a warrior through and through, my people would be proud of you,” he said, batting at Gendry’s chest, which cause the impact spot as much pain as when he was shot. Gendry groaned as he clutched his chest, and Drogo laughed, hooking his arm around Gendry’s shoulder.

For the remainder of the day, it was formal proceedings that they had organised to discuss what they would choose to implement change amongst the seven kingdoms to make them more united and less divided as they once were.

As Gendry stood to the side with Arya and the rest of the family as Robb took point with Ned, she leaned over to him. “So,” she whispered, “King Robert talked to you?”

“I’m glad Dany came over,” Gendry whispered back.

“Are you alright?”

Gendry shrugged, “I’ll be fine. As long as I don’t interact with him for long, I’ll be ok,” he said, and Arya tugged on the back of his jacket. It was the only form of affection they could give each other as Gendry reached behind his back, touching at her fingertips as lightly as he could. Her hand slipped down to his, touching their hands against each other for the briefest of moments before it was gone.

The night wound down easily, the family gathering ending as each royal had to travel back to their homeland, Arya and gendry walked to her room, weaving their way through the castle to kill the time. Gendry suspected they’d be visited by Sansa or the two youngest boys at one stage, but he didn’t mind - it wasn’t like they were planning on doing anything exciting once they got to her room. At the bottom of the stairs, ready to climb for the fourth time, they were met by a figure at the top of the staircase.

“Gendry, may I speak with you?” Catelyn asked, her head tilting towards her office. Gendry gave a nod back to her.

“Of course,” he said, looking to Arya with a smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“Don’t take too long,” she said. “Oh! Mum, can Gendry stay the night?” Arya asked, and as Gendry looked at the Queen, he went stiff, his entire body feeling trapped in one embarrassing moment. She glanced between the pair before she rolled her eyes.

“Yes. But as I know you’re injured, I don’t expect anything to happen,” Catelyn remarked, “am I right, Mister Waters?” she asked, with a glare that could kill a person on sight if they weren’t prepared. Seven hells, Gendry almost died and he was prepared for the scolding she was ready to unleash.

“Yes, your majesty,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Stop scaring him and go,” Arya warned as Gendry followed the queen.

As they made it to her office, it was a complete surprise when the door closed. In a moment, Gendry was held so tightly, it was like the air had been sucked from his lungs. The queen held him tight, and the echo of a sob came out that made him look down.

“Oh!” he gasped, “Your majesty,” he said softly, stroking her arm to comfort her. She backed away, clearing her face of tears that stained her cheeks. He held her by the shoulders, making sure she was ok as he inspected her.

“You almost gave your life for my son, and I cannot express how thankful I am for you,” she said with another sob leaving her chest. She covered her mouth and for a moment, it tore him in two; a subject of a royal, or the need to comfort like only a son could comfort his mother. The latter took over, as he brought her back into his chest and held her for a brief hug, keeping her small cries silenced by his chest.

“It was all part of the job, your majesty,” he remarked. Staying put for a moment, she left his embrace, wiping her face clean once more and composing herself.

“I understand,” she remarked with a sniff, “but please, and I know you’ve been trying not to, but don’t break that girl’s heart again. It was brutal enough the first time around,” she warned, and Gendry agreed with her.

“It was never the intention, your majesty,” he said, taking a bow, heart in his throat at how natural everything seemed to be falling into place. Then, a knock came to the door, and in walked the king with a cup of tea for the queen. “Oh, good, you majesty is here too. May I please speak with you both?” Gendry started, the two listening to him throughout their entire conversation, leaving it on good terms.

Gendry walked to Arya’s room, finding her in her bed, her arms folded an a deep scowl on her face.

“I thought you would have been asleep. I was talking with your mum for a while,” Gendry said, loosening his tie and kick off his shoes.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Arya said, and Gendry stopped. He cautiously took off his jacket, undoing his belt and trying hard to strip down to his underwear as possibly without aggravating Arya.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said, trying to kick off his pants, seeing if her reaction changed.

“No! I just wanna talk,” she reasoned, letting her body loose, obviously realising her mistake of posture.

“Ok,” he said, finding her spare set of boxers and loose singlet he could wear in her bed. After he was dressed, he snuck into bed beside Arya, holding onto her hand as she seemed to come up with the courage to say what she wanted.

“I’m not going to ask you to stop,” she said, and Gendry took in a breath, as he realised what conversation he was having. “I know you like your work and it’s what brought us together.”

“But…”

“I just want you to be more careful. Put Robb in front of the bullet next time,” she said, and Gendry chuckled.

“Arry,” he smiled.

“Yeah I know, it’s treason,” she said, pouting.

“I love you.” He leaned over to her, catching her chin in between his thumb and finger, kissing her quickly. “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

“I know you will. You can’t stop danger all the time. Just...try not to get shot,” she asked weakly, looking at him with caution.

“Trust me, I never want to get shot again,” he laughed and Arya hit his arm for being an idiot. “Can we go to bed now?”

“Yes,” she said, and Gendry lept at his chance to curl her into his embrace, holding her tightly and kissing behind her ear. He just wanted her to know he held her as tenderly as she deserved.

*~*~*

When Sansa arrived in Arya’s room that morning, ready to finally tell her sister who she was dating, she wasn’t quite expecting to see what she did. In the bed slept Arya and Gendry wrapped in sheets and each other’s embrace.

Sansa’s news could wait, because for the first time, she had seen Arya fully and perfectly protected.

#gendrya #gendry x arya #arya x gendry #gendrya fic #got fic #my fics #cfois #chivalry fell on its sword

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katedoesfics · 4 years

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Shadows of the Yiga | Chapter 1

A tedious stack of papers dropped on his desk. Link turned his gaze over to them casually, then up to the woman that stood over him.

“Special delivery,” Sera said cheerfully. “One stack of papers for a Mr. Hero.” She winked playfully at him and casually blew her sidebang out of her face.

Link turned his gaze back to his computer. He tapped his pen against his desk. It was just another day for him. Five years at that office, and each day simply blended into the next. He understood why people had midlife crises. Doing the same thing day in and day out was mind numbingly tedious. But it was a job, and he needed the money if he wanted to live in a house another month.

“For someone who faked his entire resume, you do surprisingly well,” she continued with a grin. “Can you get all this done by five like last week?”

Link shrugged lazily with one shoulder. “Sure.”

She sat on the edge of his desk, still grinning. “How do you do it?”

“Well, you see,” Link started, rolling back in his chair. He pressed his fingertips together. “It's all bullshit, Mr. Watson.”

Sera laughed. “Sounds about right. I mean, who cares about expense reports, anyway? Certainly not this company.”

“It takes years of practice to do what I do,” Link said with a smug grin.

“At this rate, you'll be at the top of the corporate ladder.”

“And all my dreams will come true,” Link said dryly.

“I could get used to the perks,” she said with a shrug. “Those company cars look nice.”

Link scoffed. “Suits. Not my style.”

“That's so Superman of you. Corporate slave by day, hero by night. Why isn't that on your resume?”

Link turned back to his computer. “Unfortunately, we're not exactly in an age of heroes. No one gives a shit.”

“They ought to.” She was quiet for a moment. She tapped a finger on the stack of paper she dropped on his desk. “This is no place for a hero.”

“Well, hero work doesn't pay the bills.”

“Hm. Touche.” She stood. “Up for another drink tonight?”

Link turned his attention to his phone as it vibrated against the desk. He sighed when he recognized the number of the high school. “Doesn't look like I'll be able to,” he said as he answered the phone. He turned his gaze to Sera as she walked away, waving over her shoulder.

“Link. I have Aryll in my office. Can you come by?”

“Again?” Link turned his gaze to the papers on his desk. They would have to wait until tomorrow.

“Yes,” the principal said dryly.

“Sure,” Link said. “Let me just take another personal day. I don't get tired of using those up.”

“I'm in no mood for your attitude, Link.”

Link sighed. “I'll be down in a bit.” Without another word, he hung up the call. He got up abruptly, leaving his chair spinning in his wake, and passed Sera's desk as he made his way out. She looked up from her computer screen as he passed.

“Aryll causing trouble again?”

“Cover for me?”

She saluted him. “Aye, aye, Mr. Hero.”

Link rolled his eyes at her before leaving the office. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten a call from the school about Aryll, but it was the first year she had really started to act out. He didn’t know shit about parenting, and as far as he knew, there was no how-to book on the subject. It may have been ten years ago, but he was sixteen once, too, and he never went through any sort of rebellious phase. Of course, he was a little preoccupied in his chosen destiny to stop Ganondorf and save Hyrule. So, it was very possible he missed out on the inductions into the rebellion club. He was convinced that such a thing existed, and it was all just a big plan to make his life even more miserable.

Regardless of why Aryll was acting out, she was, and Link had found himself at the high school on a more regular basis than he wanted to be. Fortunately, it was mostly for petty high school crimes. Aryll was found skipping class. Or skipping the day entirely. Or she was caught cheating on her test. A couple of times, she had apparently gotten into some fights, which left her suspended for the next couple of days. These were the worst, mainly because Link knew that being unsupervised at home would only allow her to get into more trouble. By the grace of Hylia, he had managed to sweet talk his way out of that with the principal, though he wasn’t sure how long that would last if she kept up.

He was bending over backwards for his sister, and she didn’t seem to give a damn. It apparently wasn’t enough that he dropped out of college to be with her when his father was discharged. Or that he had taken over everything when he died, including the unfortunate role of being some sort of father figure in her life. The two jobs he was working just to keep a roof over her head? Well, who needed that? Surely not him. She was going to get kicked out of school at this rate and never graduate, so why did he bother sticking around in the city? There was nothing there for him, anyway, and there would be nothing for Aryll if she wasn’t going to graduate high school.

So, really, who was it all for, then? What did any of it matter? How he wished he could go to the bar after picking up Aryll.

It would have felt odd to be back at the school if he hadn’t been such a regular appearance there. Every time, he would find himself looking at the corner of the building from his car where his friends used to hang out before and after classes. Sometimes, he would wander the hallways before making his way to the office, looking out into the courtyard where they once gathered for lunch. On one of the picnic tables, Revali had lovingly carved “Link sux” into the wood. Ten years was a long time, but it seemed a lifetime ago. He hated everything about high school, but in those recent years, he wanted nothing more than to go back and attempt to make a better future for himself.

And there was Aryll, all too happy to throw it all away. Everything he had done for her.

Needless to say, Link was in a less than stellar mood when he entered the office. The secretary behind the desk did not look up as he entered, but offered him her usual, monotone greeting. “Hello again, Link.”

“Did you miss me?” he said with a grin. The woman looked up slowly, meeting his gaze with a raised brow and otherwise emotionless face, and his grin quickly disappeared.

“He’s expecting you,” she said with a sigh, pulling her gaze away and back onto her computer screen.

“Right,” Link said. “Of course he is.” He walked around the desk and into the office without knocking, taking the seat in front of the desk. He stretched his legs out in front of him, settling in to hear of Aryll’s latest adventures.

The principal smiled to Link as he sat in the empty seat in front of the desk, but Link did not return the greeting. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for him to speak.

“Nice to see you, Link.”

“Wish I could say the same.”

“Aryll told me not to call. She said you were busy at work.”

“Well, if she cares so much, maybe she'll stop causing trouble.”

“She's a good kid. She gets good grades.”

“So, what is it this time?”

He folded his hands on his desk. “She knocked a kid out cold.”

Link grinned. “Nice.”

The principal narrowed his gaze. “Do you really think that's appropriate?”

Link shrugged. “Depends. Did he deserve it?”

He sighed and pressed his fingers against his temple.

“He must have done something to piss her off,” Link continued. “What was it?”

He looked down at the papers on his desk and scooped them up. He flipped through them until he found what he was looking for. “Apparently there was a disagreement between them.” He adjusted the glasses on his nose as he read the report. “'He said that the legends of Hylia were nothing but bullshit and scare tactics that the government uses and if Ganondorf was ever a real threat, he would have been eliminated. I told the stupid bastard that if he paid attention to the world at all, he'd know that Ganondorf cannot simply be killed as long as he holds a piece of the Triforce, and the fucking prick said that the Triforce was made up by the royal family to keep themselves in control of Hyrule. He said Zelda and Link were frauds.'” He stopped and looked over his glasses, meeting Link's gaze.

“That's a good one,” he said. “I haven't heard that one yet.”

The principal placed the papers back on his desk and removed his glasses. “It seems Aryll has quite a temper.”

“Guess the kid shouldn't be talking shit. Sounds like he got what he deserved.” He smiled smugly. “Next time -” He snapped his mouth shut, thinking better of what he was going to say. Aryll could get away with throwing punches, but he was sure he couldn't make such threats lightly.

The principal raised a brow. “Next time?”

“Next time maybe he'll show a little respect.”

He leaned back in his large, leather chair, turning slightly from side to side in a rocking motion. “Is everything okay at home?”

Link groaned loudly and rolled his eyes. “Don't give me this shit.”

“I know things haven't been easy for the two of you these last few years, but you are responsible for her and her actions.”

“She's sixteen years old,” Link said. “And I'm not her father. I don't control her. She's old enough to know right and wrong and make her own decisions.”

“She needs guidance, Link.”

“Guidance with what?” Link snapped. “She's standing up for herself. I'm sorry if my little sister has a better punch than that asshole conspiracy theorist. Maybe he should grow a pair.”

He sighed and rubbed at his temple. “I've given her quite a few chances already,” he warned him. “I can't keep doing this. You need to do something about it. You need to talk to her.”

Link got to his feet. “Are we done, or are you going to keep lecturing me about how to raise a teenage girl?”

“I just want what's best for both of you. I don't want to see Aryll go down the wrong path. She has a lot of potential. You should be grateful she doesn't have the same work ethic you did in school.”

Link shrugged. “Just busy saving the world.”

“Mhm.” He turned his gaze away from Link and onto his computer screen. “If it keeps up, I will have to suspend her. Please don't let it come down to that.”

Link said nothing further. He made his way out of the office, closing the door behind him. In the main office, Aryll was sitting in one of the chairs against the wall, her hands behind her head. She stood when Link came out and without a word to her brother, she left the main office and made her way outside. There was still an hour left of school, but Link was too tired to fight with her. He nodded to the woman behind the desk as he walked after Aryll.

“See you next week, Link,” she said disinterestedly.

Outside the school, Link jogged after Aryll as she made her way toward the car. “What the hell was that about?” he said when he reached her side.

“What was what about?” Aryll kept walking, not meeting his gaze.

“You can't go around punching people.”

Aryll rolled her eyes. “I told him not to call you.”

“Who else is he going to call?” Link sneered.

Aryll stopped short and faced him. “Right, because I have no one else. No fucking family.”

Link's expression softened. “You have me.”

“Do I? You're never around!”

“I'm working two fucking jobs for you. What more do you want from me?”

Aryll stormed away from him, away from the car, and towards the road.

“Where are you going?” Link shouted after her.

“Home!”

“Get in the car!”

“No!”

Fuming, Link got into the vehicle. He pulled out of the lot and followed Aryll onto the road. He rolled down the window as he slowed to her pace. “Get in!”

Aryll crossed her arms. “No.”

“Get in the fucking car, Aryll!”

Aryll stopped walking and glared at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it. Instead, she yanked the door open, slid into the seat, and slammed it closed. She folded her arms over her chest and turned to look out the window, ignoring her brother.

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” Link hissed as he pulled out into traffic.

Aryll shrugged with one shoulder and kept her gaze out the window. “I’m going through my rebellious phase,” she said. “I’ll probably dye my hair black or something. Get a lip ring.” She grinned to herself. “Fuck it. I’ll go all out and get my nipples pierced.”

“You’re not funny,” Link muttered.

“I’m actually hilarious,” she said. “But you have no sense of humor anymore, so you wouldn’t know.”

“You’re going to get expelled,” Link warned her.

“So what?” She glanced over to her brother. “What are you going to do about it? Ground me?” She rolled her eyes and turned her gaze back out the window.

“Sure,” he mumbled. “That’s what people do, right?”

“That’s what parents do,” she said. “And we’re sad little orphans.”

Link’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t respond to her.

Aryll took it upon herself to put an end to the silence that fell between them. “So, since you’re not my father, you don’t have that power.”

“No,” Link said slowly. “But I’m the adult. The only adult you’ve got. So that power transfers to me.”

Aryll shifted in her seat. “Right,” she muttered. “Let me know when you decide to act like an adult.”

Link stopped at a light, slamming harder on the breaks than he needed to. “When you stop acting like a bratty little twat, then we can talk,” he hissed at her.

“Fuck you,” she sneered at him.

“Get out and walk home.”

“No,” she said sternly. “And you can’t make me.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Fine,” she said. “Be a terrible guardian and they’ll take me away and stick me in an orphanage and we’ll never have to see each other again.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” he said. “You won’t go to an orphanage. Even they wouldn’t want you. You’ll just be a homeless little troll under a bridge.”

“You’re a fucking dick!”

The light had turned green, but Link hadn’t moved. The cars behind them started to honk in annoyance.

“Yup, that’s me,” he said. “The biggest asshole this world has ever seen.” He flipped a motorist the bird as he finally moved through the intersection.

“Being a hero doesn’t mean you get to act like a dick to everyone.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” he said. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. “I guess I misunderstood what being a dick was. Apparently giving up everything for you makes me a terrible person.”

“Right, go head,” Aryll said, rolling her eyes. “Play the fucking victim card again.”

“I can’t win with you, can I?” he barked at her. “Nothing I do is good enough!” They stopped at another light and Link turned to his sister. “What do you want from me, Ary? What the fuck do you want?”

Aryll stared at her brother, her face whitening. When the cars began to honk behind them once more, she pulled her gaze away and slunk into her seat. She pulled her knees to her chest and held her breath in an attempt to steady herself, but the tears rolled down her face, anyway. They didn’t speak again until they pulled into the driveway and Link cut the engine. Neither of them moved to get out.

“Can you just talk to me?” Link said softly. “Tell me what you need. Tell me what I can do.”

Aryll glanced over at her brother, but he was staring out the windshield at nothing in particular. She pulled her gaze away and bit her lip to keep her sobs at bay.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, though her voice broke. “I’m sorry I’m just a burden to you.” And with that, she opened the door, stumbled out, and slammed the car door behind her.

Link watched as she ran into the house. He punched the steering wheel angrily, and the car honked in response.

#shadows of the yiga #soty #chapter 1 #1 #soty1 #fic #fanfic #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #loz #botw

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camillemontespan · 5 years

Text

the golden boy [interview with leo rhys]

I wrote this a month ago and after editing, think I’m ready to post it. No reason for this other than it’s Leo!

@fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @pug-bitch @moonlightgem7 @emceesynonymroll @burnsoslow @ibldw-main @emichelle @katedrakeohd @notoriouscs @thecordoniandiaries @gardeningourmet @dcbbw @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @be-still-my-aching-heart @rainbowsinthestorm

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

When I come face to face with Prince Leo of Cordonia, his smile reminds me of the quote from F Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby: It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.

Leo has that smile. It lights up his face and makes me feel all gooey and warm. We meet on an Autumn day at a coffee shop on the square and he enters the shop wearing a brown leather jacket, black woolen sweater, jeans and boots. He looks like an off duty model, not a prince. He ignores those who turn to stare at him and greets me with that smile and a kiss on the cheek.

'Sorry I'm late,' he says, before settling down on the chair opposite me. The waitress comes over to take our order, blushing as she asks what he would like. 'I'll have a latte,' he says, giving her the same smile he gave me, 'and the lady will have?' he gestures to me. I ask for a cappuccino.

'Sorry, I did read your email but I've forgotten your name,' he tells me, wincing apologetically.

'Carmen,' I say. He flashes me a wolfish grin. 'Nice to meet you, Carmen.'

I gather together my notes but can't help but feel like he is watching me. I look up and he is, his arm draped over the back of his chair, that smile on his face. He is all golden skin and golden hair; a Greek god come to life. I clear my throat and ask how he's settling back into Royal life after spending years away travelling.

'It feels good!' he enthuses. 'Honestly it's nice to kinda be settled and spend time with good people. It's awesome seeing my little brother again.'

His little brother is King Liam. Three years ago, Leo was the one with the crown on his head until he suddenly announced he was abdicating. He left Cordonia and his brother took the throne and crown, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Leo has the decency to look guilty when I bring the subject up. When the waitress comes back with our coffees, he looks relieved for the distraction.

'Okay, I'm an honest person,' he says. 'An open book. I'll tell you anything and to be honest, I do regret leaving my brother in the lurch like that. But I was in no way fit to be a king. I never have been.'

I ask if he could elaborate. He fixes me with his forest green eyes. 'Carmen,' he says, 'look at me. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it. I'm a reckless irresponsible asshole who would have run Cordonia into the ground if I was given absolute power. Trust me, I may have gone about it the wrong way but I made the right decision.'

Leo is the party boy of the Royal family. Much like Prince Harry in the UK, he spent his early twenties drinking, running around with girls and acting like there was no tomorrow. Leo smirks at the comparison with Prince Harry.

'Thing is, Prince Harry was the second born, the spare. He is never going to be the king which was why he could pull all that shit when he was younger. That said, I don’t condone dressing up like a WW2 figure -you know who I mean- Jesus, have some fucking decorum... But I didn't have that luxury of being the spare but I sure acted like I did. It should have been Liam going out till 7am every night but it wasn't. It was me.'

Prince Harry is in his thirties now with a wife and baby. Has Leo grown up?

'Do you see me with a wife and kid?' he jokes. He smiles and sips his coffee before answering.

'I think I've turned over a new leaf but don't quote me on that.'

He had been engaged to Duchess Madeleine but that ended abruptly, at the same time he abdicated. Has he seen her since he's been back? Leo runs his hand through his blonde hair awkwardly.

'Okay so you know how I said I'm an open book? Yeah, scratch that. Maddie is off limits in this conversation.'

He must still care for her if he calls her Maddie.

'Actually, I don't,' he says shortly. 'We've moved on. She's dating, she's happy. I just don't think she would appreciate me talking about her. She likes her privacy.'

I feel myself turn red. He's told me off. His eyes soften and he gives me an apologetic smile. 'Sorry, Carmen,' he says. 'I didn't mean to be a dick.'

We brush past the awkwardness and I ask him if he's dating. He chuckles. 'I'm seeing people.'

People. So not just one. Clearly, he isn't settling down just yet.

'I can't be pinned down,' he says. 'I'm actually a terrible boyfriend.'

I ask how.

'Ugh, God. I make promises I don't intend to keep. I believe the best way to fix an argument is just buy the girl something sparkly instead of talking about feelings. I take forever to answer texts. I choose a night out with the guys over a romantic night in. I’m always late. Shall I go on?'

So this new leaf he thinks he's turned over. If he's not settling down, what's changed?

'I'm actually staying in Cordonia permanently,' he answers. 'A year ago, I would have hated the idea of putting down roots and settling but now, I'm happy to be home. I want to make up for lost time and make amends to my brother. I know I can be an asshole but I am actually a good person underneath it all. I've learned the hard way that my actions have consequences and I don't want to treat those I love like shit again.'

He gives me a happy smile. ‘Liam is doing so good,’ he says. ‘I’m honestly so proud of him. He’s really turning Cordonia into a modern place and he listens to the people, you know? He genuinely cares. I’m glad I’m back with him.’

Who is he close with at court aside from Liam?

'Maxwell Beaumont is the fucking MVP,' he says, a broad smile forming on his tanned face. 'Honestly, he's the best. We bonded over his love for planning a Beaumont Bash. You know I love a party. We've joked that we should start our own party planning business.'

He then begins to list other famous faces at court. 'Drake Walker is my brother’s best friend but we get on well. He's changed so much since I was away, I mean he's married now! I always thought he would end up living in someone's basement like a weird uncle.. But no, he's married to Camille [the Duchess of Valtoria] and they have a baby. It's insane.'

I ask if he's close with Olivia Nevrakis, Liam's childhood friend. He smirks. 'Define close?'

I blanch at his suggestiveness. 'Are you guys..'?

He laughs and takes a swig of coffee. 'Ha! As if I'm telling you that! I mean, I would but Olivia would castrate me with her favourite dagger if I said anything.'

There wasn't any denial. Leo sees me trying to work it out and chuckles. He chuckles a lot by the way, like he is in on the joke and just waiting for everyone else to catch up.

'I'm dating people, she's dating people,' he says. 'Why label anything? What is the good in doing any of that? I've had so many women believe they could change me, make me into the boyfriend they wanted and needed. They always asked me about a month in if we could talk about ‘what we are’ you know, like, define the relationship. Nothing terrifies me more than that conversation.’

I tell him that sometimes, it’s just nice to know where you stand with someone. Leo throws his hands in the air, becoming really animated now. ‘But surely, the fact I’m taking you on dates and having sex with you is enough of an indication! Why are women like this?! If I’m fucking you, then be happy.’

‘Sometimes, women want to know if they’re dating a man or a boy,’ I say.

‘Are you saying I’m a boy?’ Leo asks me, raising an eyebrow - he is smiling though. He launches back into his subject.

‘I've started to just be brutally honest from the get go. I'm not the guy you can come to for deep conversations. I'm not going to text you good morning. If you want mindless fucking with some fancy dinners thrown in, I'm your guy. Otherwise, I'll just end up disappointing you.' His voice goes quiet .'Why deny the inevitable?'

His expression turns dark until he sees me and smiles again. 'You dating anyone, Carmen?' he asks me. I say no. He gives me a wink.

'They're missing out,' he says. He then gets serious again. 'As I said before, I learned the hard way that my actions have consequences. That's also why I'm now honest with women I might date. That new leaf again. I used to not be honest and go along with it, string them along but that's cruel. There's no need to be that kind of guy.`

Is he a feminist?

'Women should rule the fucking world,' he announces. 'Honestly, you guys are brilliant. I love women. The ones I know at court are strong and independent, they are powerful. Besides, if you believe that women and men should be equal, then you're a feminist. If you think women deserve to miss out on a promotion or pay rise because they have vaginas, then you're an asshole.'

So if he loves them so much, why does he treat women and relationships like they're nothing?

He blinks at my bluntness. I think I've definitely overstepped, until he leans forward. I catch the scent of his cologne. He smells expensive.

'Maybe I used to treat women like crap because I wanted them to dump me before I hurt them,' he whispers. 'Think of it like a weird armour.'

Has he got any chinks in this armour of his?

He gives me a wry smile. 'I love it when a woman challenges me. I like women who go toe to toe with me, who don't take my shit. Its refreshing. And so fucking sexy.'

His green eyes are steady on mine. I ask who his celebrity crush is.

‘Ha, what am I, thirteen?’ he laughs. Shaking his head, he smiles. ‘Fine, I’ll bite. Jessica Rabbit.’

I blink. ‘Um, she’s fictional..’

‘She’s still famous though. You think I’m kidding? She’s a fucking babe.’

I note that he didn’t pick a real life woman. I wonder if that’s because he doesn’t want to admit feelings for someone real, even if it is just a fun game. He sees me studying him and sips his coffee before interrupting my thoughts. ‘Carmen, there’s no use in trying to analyse me. There’s a lot of fucked up shit going on in here.’ He points to his head and chuckles.

I change the subject. He has been travelling for the past three years. What's been the best place he's been to?

His face lights up. 'Aw man, so many! Okay, so I went to Bali for a month which was incredible. Prague is pretty awesome, really cheap beer, I love Havana for the laidback vibe and how it’s so untouched. They have the best cars. I also tried a cruise but Jesus, that was really weird..'

Does he prefer to travel solo?

He nods. 'I can just do my own thing. There's nothing better than waking up in your own camper van with a view of the mountains in front of you and no plan. It was so freeing.'

Leo would have felt trapped as the king of Cordonia. That is obvious. Is that why he always flouted the rules?

Leo smirks. 'Rules are meant to be broken baby.'

I ask him to be serious. Leo sighs. 'Yeah. I hated this gilded cage that I was born into. A life of decorum, etiquette and restrictions is not a life I wanted, I never did. But I know there's so many people out there who have been dealt shitty cards. You've got poverty and homelessness. They've got it worse. So I shouldn't complain. But I just always wished I could be normal.'

Leo being a commoner? I can't imagine it.

Leo corrects himself. 'I tried to act normal given my life situation. I went out with girls, got drunk, did non-princely things. But being who I am.. It doesn't fit. I will always be Prince Leo, one time King of Cordonia. I will never escape that. I will never be a normal guy... It just look me a while to realise that. '

Does he regret any of his partying and the constant headlines? He nods. 'Yeah, I do. It wasn't easy for Liam. I think me acting like I did forced my brother to grow up quickly, which was unfair. As I said though, I'm back to make amends.'

I ask if he'll live in the palace. He shakes his head. 'No. I know I should but I don't like the place anyway and besides, when Liam is trying to be a king and command attention, I don't want people to look past him and at me. The abdicated king. No thanks. I've got my own place. It's got a beautiful view over the harbour.. You'd like it.'

He gives me a wink and I hate to say it but I blush. I actually blush. Leo gives me a grin. 'Tell you what, Carmen..' he says, 'anything you want to ask me, you can, but it has to be off the record and over a drink with me.'

I tell him we're drinking coffee. He chuckles. 'I meant something stronger.'

He looks at me steadily for a moment, waiting for my response. I shake my notes, trying to look professional. Leo grins and raises his hand in the air. 'Can we have the check please?'

******

As this article goes to print, we must inform our readers that we have had to dismiss Carmen Cortez for inappropriate behaviour with her interview subject and failing to uphold our values of journalistic professionalism. She now works at TV Guide.

#leo rhys #the royal romance #trr #TRH

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the-quiet-winds · 5 years

Text

Take Out Every Wasted Honor (part one)

the one you’ve been waiting for...

the long-awaited (like...two days) second installment of hold onto me, you’re all i have, a massive clusterfuck story by me and @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts.

if you haven’t read ‘clouds of rain and sun’... this will make zero sense so here’s a link to my master post of writing so you should read that!

this story isn’t as dark as the first one, but there are some people being assholes and saying asshole things.

[Part 1: Good to Know it’s All a Game]

it took the predicted two weeks for katherine to be able to get out of bed after the incident in the dungeon. once egert had officially cleared her, she and jane set off in arranging for katherine to legally become jane’s ward. to both of their delights, it was much easier than they thought.

only one week later, jane’s personal tailor is with katherine, building some casual dresses, as well as a formal one for the upcoming celebration.

yes, jane is throwing a party.

she claims she’s so excited about formally taking in katherine that she feels there must be a celebration, and katherine can’t bring herself to quash jane’s (her mum, she reminds herself) enthusiasm, so she lets herself be celebrated.

the tailor is a brisk, efficient woman who manages to create the foundations of katherine’s formal dress in merely a day, and the day after taking katherine’s measurements she returns to the royal chambers to have katherine try the dress on. despite the fact the tailor had an assistant, jane insists on helping lace up the dress at the back, and katherine lets jane fuss over her with a small smile. it’s nice to have someone take care of her, and even nicer that she gets to call that person her mum.

“how does that feel, love?” jane asks as she laces up the dress. “not too tight?” she was still concerned about katherine’s lungs, after all, and didn’t want to put any unnecessary pressure on them.

“feels good,” she murmurs unconvincingly.

jane gives a quiet sigh and katherine fears, as much as she hates to admit it, the worst. but she then feels jane releasing some of the tension in the laces and suddenly the dress feels perfect.

“better, kat?” jane asks.

katherine gives a timid nod. “yes, thanks.”

jane smiles, and the tailor bustles over to record some more measurements and where the laces were cinched.

katherine retreats behind a curtain to changed back into her casual wear and the tailor looks over her notes.

“a slight thing, she is,” she absentmindedly murmurs. then she looks to jane and speaks slightly louder. “shy as all get out, too, huh?”

jane gives the tailor a tight-lipped smile but doesn’t reply; she didn’t really want to discuss the reasons for katherine’s shyness with her. the tailor scribbles something else down on her notes and then turns back to jane.

“i’ve been meaning to ask, your highness, what jewellery will she be wearing? i assume something with a symbol from the seymour family? it will help with my embellishment designs, you see,” she explains.

jane suddenly smiles brightly. she’s been meaning to give katherine her gift - her ring.

she describes the ring just in time for katherine to come back over, unknowing about the surprise. she shows the tailor her locket, the one she wears nearly every day.

“come love,” jane says, tugging at her hand and pulling her into the hall. “i have something for you.”

katherine is immensely curious the entire time, but they slow to a stop inside jane’s chamber.

“i have a gift for you,” jane says, offering her closed fist. she uncurls her fingers to reveal a silver band, very simple and plain.

“it’s tradition,” jane explains, “that the eldest seymour daughter inherits the ring. it was mine, and now it is yours.” she gently slips it on katherine’s right hand ring finger, it fits perfectly. “and if you ever have a daughter, it will be hers.”

katherine stares at the ring for several moments, speechless. jane feels a tinge of worry and searches katherine’s face for signs of what she was feeling.

“i’m sorry it’s so plain, love, i know it doesn’t look much-”

“it’s perfect,” katherine says quietly. “I- thank you.” she looks up, and jane sees the tears in her eyes. “thank you,” she says again.

truth be told, this felt like the nicest thing katherine had ever been given in her life. it was a symbol that she was a seymour, a permanent reminder of jane’s love for her, of katherine’s love for her mum.

jane gives a soft yet radiant smile. she raises a hand and lays it on katherine’s cheek, wiping away the few escapes tears and stroking over her cheekbone. “you don’t need to thank me, love. you’re my daughter,” she enunciates carefully. she lowers her hand and takes katherine’s, looking at the ring that was once hers. “it’s your birthright.”

katherine’s eyes widen slightly and she pulls back. her fingers come to fiddle with the ring, twisting it in nervous circles.

“kat?” jane asks, concerned.

“how could it be my birthright?” katherine quietly asks. “i’m not...you didn’t...” she looks helplessly at jane, hoping her mum understood her meaning.

jane thinks she does understand and concern crosses her face.

“i know, love, but that doesn’t make you any less of a seymour.”

“but... birthright...” katherine repeats, chewing anxiously at her bottom lip. “i... wasn’t born a seymour.”

“the Lord works in mysterious ways, love,” jane says gently. “and I truly believe we were meant to find each other, and that i was meant to be your mother.”

the words don’t necessarily soothe katherine; she often wondered how a so-called benevolent god could have allowed those things to happen to her, and if He did have a plan for her then she doesn’t understand why those things had to be a part of it.

jane can see the calculations taking place behind katherine’s eyes. she gently catches katherine’s chin between in her index finger and her thumb, and brings it up so they’re eye to eye.

“i know you don’t believe in that, love,” says jane, “if i were you, i may have lost my faith too. but hear me now, yeah?” she takes katherine’s hand again, bringing it up so the girl can see the ring she’s wearing. “this ring is more important than blood or law to me, and i wouldn’t want to see it on anyone else. because you, katherine seymour, are my daughter, no matter how that came to be.”

the way jane speaks is just so honest, so full of unconditional love, that katherine can’t help but believe her despite her reservations. she gives a nod, the sudden lump in her throat stopping her from speaking.

jane pulls her into a gentle hug, not too tight to be careful of katherine’s lungs.

“i love you, kitty-kat,” she murmurs softly. “and you’ll always be my little seymour, okay?” she presses a kiss to katherine’s forehead.

all katherine can do is give a weak nod.

jane gives her a light smile and smooths down her hair. "that's my girl," she says absentmindedly. then she takes both of katherine's hands. "now i think you have a baby brother who could use a visit from his sister and his mum."

katherine lights up a bit at the thought of edward, and allows herself to be led to his room down the hall.

"my beautiful boy," jane coos, lifting him up. he gives at hearing his mother's voice.

"look at you," katherine whispers. "getting so big already."

“he’ll be taller than me soon,” jane laughs, kissing the top of his head. “won’t you, edward?” edward makes a cooing sound in response and jane smiles.

“here, kat, do you want to hold him?”

katherine nods and lets jane place edward in her arms. “hi eddie,” she murmurs, looking down at her baby brother. edward lets out a sound that could almost be a laugh as he tries to grab katherine’s thumb with his tiny hand.

jane watches them both, a warmth filling her chest she hadn't felt in a long time. she pulls katherine close and kisses her cheek.

"as long as i have the two of you," she says under her breath, so low that katherine can barely hear her, "i will never ask for anything more."

katherine smiles and feels the ring on her finger, then leans into jane. "love you too, mum."

---

two nights later is the celebration. the room is brightly lit, the band is hopping, and katherine never leaves jane's side. there are plenty of people katherine doesn't know, but she recognizes eleanor, sir percival, and egert, all scattered around the room.

she crosses to go see percival when she hears the whispers.

"what a party," one courtier says. "the queen really put a lot out for this."

katherine smiles at hearing that. jane did put a lot of work into this night. the night for her.

"possibly too much if you ask me," the other courtier responds. "a lot of work for her little charity project."

katherine practically freezes. she didn’t want to believe the courtier meant what she thought he did, but then he continues talking.

“i’m surprised the king let this party happen at all.”

“he wants to keep the queen happy,” the first courtier waves a hand. “that’s the only reason he let the little orphan waif stay in the first place, i’m telling you.”

“she’s not even an orphan,” the other courtier scoffs. “i hear she’s still got a father out there somewhere. i’m sure he’ll be turning up soon, trying to get a handout from the queen. that branch of the howards have always been a money-grabbing bunch.”

katherine tries to put the words out of her head, she really does. she tries to tell herself that they are just gossiping little weasels, content to make their own pathetic lives better by dragging others down.

still, she thinks, what if there is truth in what they are saying? what if her father did show up? katherine gives an internal shudder at the thought of her father turning up, maybe even trying to take her back to get more money out of her.

katherine shakes her head. jane would never allow that, not in a million years.

she goes to move on, when two female courtiers nearby steer their conversation to the young ward.

"did you know her grandmother is the dowager duchess?" one asks.

"i must have heard something about it, why?"

the first gives a sly smirk. "lots of things went on in that house." she gives a lewd shake of her hips. "heard the girl isn't even a virgin anymore."

katherine feels humiliated tears form in the corners of her eyes and she wants to head as far away as possible from the women, but some morbidly curious part of her makes her stay. she soon wishes she hadn’t.

“that certainly isn’t proper behaviour for the ward of the queen,” the other woman laughs. “i wonder if her majesty knows?”

“i doubt it,” the first says. “i don’t see why she’d want to take her on as a ward if she was aware. she certainly wouldn’t want her perfect new daughter if she knew the kind of behaviour that girl got up to.”

katherine feels a heat behind her eyes. they were tears, of course; tears of shame and humiliation.

a small part of her knows the women are wrong. jane knew all about her past, all the horrible things that mannox and dereham had done to her, but jane still took her in.

but why, katherine wants to know.

then it hits her. all the courtiers’ words mingle in her head until she sees the answer clearly: she was a charity project, a broken little girl for jane to put back together.

this realization makes her want to throw up, and she darts from the ballroom to outside and empties her stomach by the tree line.

once she’s finished katherine takes a deep breath, trying to clear her mind with the fresh air, but the curdling in her stomach and the ache in her heart won’t leave her alone. she spends the next few minutes trying desperately to pull herself together but she can’t, and when she hears footsteps behind her she already knows she looks as bad as she feels.

“kat?” jane’s concerned voice sounds from somewhere behind her, because of course jane noticed she wasn’t in the ballroom. “are you alright?”

katherine finally turns around, tears in her eyes and face incredibly pale. “i don’t feel very well,” she mumbles, and it’s not technically a lie. jane’s gaze darts from katherine’s face to where she’d emptied her stomach on the grass several minutes ago and her features soften slightly, although still worried.

“oh, love, you poor thing. do you want to go back to your room, sweetheart?”

katherine hears the sympathy in her voice and it hurts, because all she can think is how it's fake. it's all part of jane's little game with her.

she wipes her face on her sleeve and stands up. "i'm okay," she says shakily. her legs nearly give out beneath her, but jane swoops in to hold her upright.

"i can tell you aren't, love," jane says. she takes a closer look at katherine, and can see something was troubling her daughter. "what's going on, kat?"

katherine doesn't answer, so jane uses that voice, the one that means no more nightmares and only love. "kitty-kat, please talk to me."

“i don’t want to,” is all katherine can manage. her voice is small and sounds so childish and pathetic, but she can’t even bring herself to care. it hurts even more because of the voice, the one that makes her feel safe and protected, and katherine just knows that it’s all a lie.

a strange surge of anger rushes through her. how dare jane take advantage of her loneliness and desperation for affection like that. jane looks at her, eyes wide and caring but with confusion running through them at katherine’s response, and katherine can’t take it any more. she rips the ring off her finger and drops it in the grass, staring jane down and trying to stop her own heart from breaking.

jane takes a sharp and confused breath as the ring lands in the grass. she drops to her knees and immediately searches for it. she stands back up with it in her fingers, reaching out for katherine's hand. but katherine is backing away, tears in her eyes and an angry, upset hunch to her shoulders.

"kitty-kat, where is this coming from?" she asks in that same gentle tone.

"stop!" katherine yells, holding her hands by her face. anger and insecurity course through her blood. "stop pretending that you care! stop pretending that this means anything to you!"

jane looks at her, sad and confused. "kat...you mean everything to me." she reaches out to katherine's cheek, but the girl backs away more.

“you’re lying,” katherine chokes out, voice thick with anger and distress. “how could I possibly mean everything to you? admit it, i’m just some little charity project!”

the words stun jane and she blinks, confusion running through her.

“wh- kat, love, no!” her voice is still that soft gentle cadence and katherine just wants her to stop. she covers her ears with her hands desperately as if it will prevent jane’s voice from reaching her.

“charity project?” jane repeats, absolutely shocked. she sees katherine frantically covering her ears and steps forward, trying to remove her hands.

the girl pulls away roughly.

jane gives a tiny sigh. “i don’t know where these thoughts are coming from, kat, but they couldn’t be more wrong,” she says, raising her voice just enough so the girl could hear her. “i love you, katherine, and i don’t care if i have to tell you ten times a day, because i will, if that makes you happy.” she holds up the ring. “i think this belongs to you,” she offers softly.

there’s a part of katherine that wanted to believe her, that craves love and safety and security as family so much, and that loved jane and hoped beyond all hope that jane loved her back. but there’s a horrible dark voice in the back of her head that tells her, no, she’s been in this position before too many times, thinking somebody genuinely cared about her when in reality they didn’t.

she feels incredibly light-headed and she suddenly notices her breathing had been rapidly speeding up, to the point now where she was nearly hyperventilating. her lungs ache from the lack of air and she stumbles back.

jane had seen the whole thing unfold - katherine’s breathing was getting faster, her knees wobbled as she stumbled back and ultimately gave out onto the grass.

jane immediately moves in, pulling katherine into her hold, but the girl wrenches away.

“kitty-kat,” jane says firmly yet gently, “let me help you.”

katherine shakes her head, unable to speak. through her tears, she sees the ring. the ring so much like the one dereham has presented her with, wound with empty words of love and false promises of security.

as shaken as she is, she grabs the ring and hurls it as hard as she can. it disappears into the dark woods, then all is still.

#six the musical #six musical #jane seymour #katherine howard #jules and jess write #take out every wasted honor #hold onto me you're all i have

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argylemnwrites · 5 years

Text

Fire Inside

Character: ??? 😮 ???

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu) referenced

Book: The Royal Romance (The Royal Heir, various chapters)

Word Count: ~2100

Rating: PG-13 (adult language)

Summary: Doing what needs to be done isn’t for the faint of heart. Sometimes channeling that fire inside will bring out enemies, but only the timid worry about that.

Author’s Note: So, this is something pretty different from what I usually write, but the idea popped into my head and wouldn’t leave me alone. I don’t know if anyone else will like this, but I had a lot of fun exploring motivations of this character. I just wanted to dislike this character for interesting reasons, not hate them for dumb reasons that lack all nuance. So, yeah, not trying to defend this character, just trying to make them a dislikable human instead of a silly, annoying trope.

Inspired by Day 4 of the Choices November Challenge - Rage. Tagging all my TRR peeps, so apologies if this isn’t your thing. Like I said, I know this isn’t my usual style.

How did that old saying go? You catch more flies with honey than vinegar? Something like that. She’d heard it plenty of times throughout her life. She just never really understood it.

It’s not that she didn’t get the intent; she wasn’t stupid. But she just didn’t quite get why anyone would want to catch flies in the first place. Swat those annoying buggers away. Let them live their life while she lived hers. Why would you want to attract nuisances when you could scare them off instead? And no point drawing them in to kill them. There would always be plenty more pests coming after them.

But growing up, everyone seemed to tell her she should be more nurturing, more caring. Buying her dolls for her birthday and for Christmas. Trying to get her to care for the chicks after the coyote got into the pen and ate the hen. Scolding her when she hadn’t held Bee’s hand and wiped away her tears with gentle thumbs and soothing words when she’d fallen from the tree and broken her arm, but instead had carried her back to the house, arm wrapped in her own shirt as a temporary sling. But her practical solution hadn’t been enough. She was supposed to tend to her sister’s emotional pain, not just the physical.

They all wanted her to be sugar, spice, and everything nice. Well, if that’s what little girls were supposed to be made of, it never made sense to Leona that everyone seemed to ignore the middle ingredient. You wouldn’t call two pieces of bread on either side of some sliced ham a bread sandwich. That’s a goddamn ham sandwich. So why did everyone think that girls should be sweet little angels, not spitfires full of heat and intensity?

Leona was never cut out to play the damsel, dependent on someone else. She would fight for herself, fight for what she thought was her due. And she was never going to apologize for being that way. Her fire served her well. It’s how she got out of taking home ec in high school, instead getting herself a spot in shop class. She could live with rips in her clothes that she couldn’t mend well and food that filled her belly without winning a prize at the state fair for its flavors. But if the equipment on the ranch broke down, well being able to fix that herself would save her whole family time and money. And that just seemed a hell of a lot more useful than learning how to be a perfect little homemaker.

Of course, in shop class, none of the boys or Mr. Linvel had viewed her as anything other than a novelty. She wasn’t sure which was worse, the boys who laughed at her anytime she made a mistake, or the ones who assumed she couldn’t do it herself, always coming over to “help” her. What they didn’t understand is that she never needed their help. They weren’t better than her just because their fathers had taught them those skills already. She would do it herself, no matter how many tries it took.

Because the world was a harsh place. It never made sense to Leona that she was expected to stay soft. She didn’t understand how anyone could. But all the girls around her seemed to manage it just fine. Cathy and Linda and Susie braided each other’s hair and shared lipstick. They giggled and gossiped and swooned over Chip and Bobby and Kenny. They hugged each other and passed around hankies when those same idiot boys all fell head over heels for the new girl, Patty, with her bleached hair and bell-bottom jeans. They all cried over their Dolly Parton records, moaning about how “Jolene” was their song. Leona didn’t get it. Why waste any time on some boy who was inevitably gonna let you down?

But one by one, she watched them go off, get married, start their families. Cathy caught the eye of some traveling salesman, Linda finally got Bobby to put a ring on it, and Susie moved to Houston to go to secretarial school, but quit and got married 4 months after her first posting. And one by one, she watched them get broken, by bills and mortgages, by baby after baby, by unfaithful and cruel husbands. And as they cried on the front porch, wondering how they got to that point, a not-so-small portion of Leona kept thinking, “I told you so.” She didn’t feel bad for thinking it either. Because she knew what they thought of her. Bitter. Cold-hearted. Bitch.

But she took it all, because she knew that life wasn’t a fairy tale. It’s a series of hardships you just had to face head on. She told her sister that everyday, not wanting her to make the same mistakes that so many of the other girls made. And for a long time, it worked. It was just the two of them and Dad, taking care of things on the ranch. But eventually Bee wanted more. She wasn’t content, always dreaming of something different. She saved her money. Traveled. When she came back, she was full of stories. But she was different every time. Still could pull her share around the ranch, but she was teasing her hair. Had new blazers with shoulder pads in addition to her practical work clothes. Talked about some fancy-ass coffee drink she had at some restaurant. And then she saved enough to go overseas, coming back a few months later, holding hands with some fancy European asshole. Told Leona she was moving to some country called Cordonia to marry that man. Left the ranch without a backward glance, leaving Leona and Dad to manage it all. She made promises of coming back in a couple of years after Jackson’s service requirements were complete, but first a son came along, and then a daughter. And each year that went by, Leona knew that Bianca was never coming back. Sure enough, phone calls promising a move back next year soon became phone calls promising a vacation. The life they had known together was now a novelty, an escape, not a reality. She only did make it back to the ranch once with the kids.

Those two were lost causes, as far as Leona was concerned. Brought up in a world of gold and diamonds, parties and designer clothes. Hell, the boy was best friends with one of the princes. And when she was the one who had to bury Dad in the orchard all by herself, six feet down, right next to Momma, she knew she was the only one left in the family with any common sense or perspective. She just hoped that Bianca remembered a little bit of the toughness she’d tried to teach her when those ass-kissing, stuck-up nobles she’d surrounded herself with inevitably screwed her over.

Leona was surprised that Bianca lasted over there as long as she did, nearly two decades before it all came crashing down with Jackson’s death. But she did crash, hard. Her life fell apart. And who did she call up, but the sister she’d abandoned, left to carry on the family business all alone. And once again, she wanted Leona to be softer. To offer sympathy and comfort. Well, she offered a roof over her head and food in her belly when her so-called “friends” somehow couldn’t be bothered to spare a dollar. That would have to be comfort enough.

She’d heard Bianca crying many nights. At first, she knew it was over her husband, a man who gave his life for some over-important royals, leaving behind his own goddamn family. And after years of watching her sister struggle to finally heal from that, the crying started again when Drake called, frantic, saying Savannah was gone, asking if by any chance she’d come to Texas. She recovered faster that time, though. Leona hoped that she was finally learning, that she was tougher. Stronger.

But that all came crashing down one fall morning, when Bianca bounded into the barn, telling Leona that not only was Savannah back in their lives, but that she had a baby. Baby Bee was a grandma. Not only that, but she was going back to the hellhole of Cordonia to see this baby and to watch Drake marry some fancy duchess of some sort. She was optimistic and energetic. It was as if she’d learned nothing from her first time there.

They’d fought, Leona asking her sister how many times she was gonna get her hopes up about that place. Bianca saying that things would be better this time. Yeah, right. Leona had seen enough to know how this would end. Bianca brought her kids up in the world of posh nobles and fancy rich people. It was only a matter of time until they decided they were too good for her again.

But Bee ignored her warnings, not only flying out there for some pompous hoighty-toighty wedding, but offering to host Savannah’s wedding to some frickin’ Duke of snobbery, the same man who knocked her up and then neglected her and the baby not two years earlier. Amazing what you could get away with when you had money.

To make matters worse, Bee invited some motley crew of royals and nobles to come stay on the ranch for this wedding. They weren’t outwardly disdainful, so maybe they did learn some manners from their fancy pants educations, but still. Leona had a ranch to keep afloat. The last thing she needed was to babysit a group of rich kids playacting at being cowboys.

She felt a little guilty selling info on Drake and his wife to the press. He was the most helpful of the group, and he was family, after all. He seemed to remember a few things from his visit as a child, seemed to have kept a handful of practical skills. But his wife was overeager, annoying, and seemed to think that she had something in common with Bianca and Leona just because she used to wait tables. That growing up in a fancy city like New York was somehow equal to hard, physical labor because she hadn’t been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. If he had chosen to marry someone like her, then he probably wasn’t much different than the rest of them. The fact that they were orchestrating some bizarre political move to get their kid onto the throne just sealed the deal for Leona. So she did what she had to do. Granted, they all ended up being much kinder than she’d guessed them to be. But their kindness wasn’t going to keep the ranch going long term, keep the hands hired and the electricity on. So, Leona kept on selling any info she had. Morality was all fine and dandy when you were privileged, but it had no place in the real world.

It wasn’t until Riley was screaming at her, yelling about how she would never forgive Leona, hand protectively placed across her very pregnant belly, that she saw something more than kind but spoiled little princess. She saw pure anger, fire-forged and intense. She saw rage and hunger. She saw someone that maybe had been hardened by life, but kept that intensity hidden away, covering her true strength with silliness and laughter.

Leona couldn’t be sure, of course. She barely knew the woman, and she had no illusion that she and this woman would be bonding as in-laws going forward, so she probably wouldn’t get the chance to find out. She had never been naive, after all. She knew that bridge was burned. But she wasn’t one for regrets. She’d made her choices, and while she’d hoped maybe her nephew would understand her reasons, calm his wife down, she wasn’t surprised when that didn’t happen. So she went back to Texas, to her parents’ ranch. To her ranch, really. What was done was done.

She hadn’t anticipated her sister’s anger. Bee had never been the overly-protective, Momma-bear type, after all. But she’d yelled, alright. Told her off about betraying the family. Selling out her own nephew. Making it so that Drake and Riley were never going to be willing to bring the grandbaby to visit. Bianca expected grovelling, contrition, regret. But she wasn’t going to get that. Leona had the fire raging inside of her to keep moving forward; she would never apologize for that. And if anyone took issue with that, well that was just their own damn problem. No one else was going to solve it for them. Certainly not Leona. Anyone who expected such a weakness could just go fuck themselves.

Tags: @choicesnovemberchallenge @dcbbw @mfackenthal @yaushie @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley–walker @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs @butindeed @octobereighth @ao719

#choices november challenge #the royal heir #the royal romance #trr #trh #trh fanfic #trr fanfic #leona walker #bianca walker #choices #choices fanfiction #choices stories you play #playchoices

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