#its already been decades their stupid asses are absolutely capable of taking decades more to figure their shit out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katzkinder · 3 years

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Fool’s Gold, Ch 1

Prologue

I should mention that the version up on ao3 has extra content not included in the tumblr updates. The version available on Tumblr is just the story featuring Greed pair, while the ao3 version has some extra bits and bobs. They don’t particularly impact the story, but they do add another layer, and if you like Gear and Youtarou, you might enjoy it! Thank you for being patient with my sporadic schedule ^^

[All That Glitters Is Not]

The first thing Licht noticed upon regaining consciousness was that his head felt like someone had tried to split it open like a melon. The second was that, wherever he was, it was cooler than the weather permitted, and the scratchy sheets beneath his cheek could sorely use a good wash. He wrinkled his nose, groaning as he sat up and clutched his head. The third…

“Ah, good. You’re awake. Was starting to get worried.”

--Was that he wasn’t alone.

Licht whirled, nearly falling off the small bed he had been placed on in his haste and only succeeding in making his aching head spin. The sound of metal clanging against it itself made him grimace, using the sound’s source to finally locate the… Dungeon’s, he supposed, other occupant.

A suit of armor?

“Hey now, no need to be hasty. You’ll only hurt yourself like that.” The deep voice he had heard was definitely coming from the armor, which sat, almost casually, even, upon a stool with a little wooden serving cart laden down with a pitcher, food, and dishes to serve it on. If he squinted, he could make out the shape of bread and what might have been a block of aged cheese in the darkness, penetrated only by the light of torches placed at regular intervals around the place.

“P… Piss off…” His throat hurt, voice coming out scratchier than he would have liked. “Who are you, and where am I?”

“First, drink this.” A copper cup was pushed at him through the bars, held securely in the jointed fingers of a gauntlet and presumably filled with water. Licht scoffed at it, not budging.

“Not until you answer me. Who. Are. You,” he repeated, carefully enunciating each word as if the man in front of him were some foreign entity just barely capable of understanding him. If suits of armor could look annoyed, this one certainly did, joints creaking as the whole thing sagged with its occupant.

“Do you want the damn water or not?”

“What I want is answers.”

A soft, harsh mutter that was almost certainly a swear, his captor turning to place the cup back in its place amongst the meal’s various other accoutrements. “Listen. If I promise to answer your questions, will you drink something? I don’t need that brat boss of mine giving me an earful over a stubborn kid…”

Licht bristled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed that was, now that he took a moment to look, little more than a cot pushed into the corner, and standing fast enough that the room spun. Stalking towards his unflinching captor, his lip curled back into a sneer, baleful glare trained on approximately where he thought the man’s eyes would be. Gripping the bars of his prison, he pushed his forehead up against the cool metal, duly noting that where he had expected rust he instead found smooth, well cared for material. That would make things more difficult once he was alone again, but it was nothing he couldn’t overcome, he thought.

“I’m not a kid.”

The helmet tilted, arms folding noisily across the chest plate. “You sure are acting like one.”

“I’m not,” Licht insisted. Adjusting his grip, he shoved his face more insistently at the bars, trying to get a look at the layout of the area beyond his cell. It was fairly large, all things considered, with clean, dry stone that looked like it was well fitted together. Directly across from him was a wall with a torch holder, unlit for the moment, though light sources reflected off the silver armor his captor wore from either side of him. To the left and right of that torch were more cells, equally as bare as his own save for a cot and, if he squinted hard enough, the shape of what might have been more bedding underneath.

No doubt moth eaten and covered in rat shit.

Still, the relatively clean space was… Surprising, and up close like this, he found he was indeed correct in assuming the shape he had seen to be cheese. Bread, cheese, some cured meats, and…

The words he had meant to speak died on the tip of his tongue, facial expression going slack in his befuddlement. “What’s that?”

“Hm?” The man turned at the waist, following his line of sight to a yellow skinned pear sitting innocuously amongst the other foodstuffs, the bottom of which appeared to be colored pink to red at uneven intervals. “... Have you never seen a pear before?”

Licht bit down a snappish reply, stomach giving a sudden rumble in protest to him doing anything that might deny him food he hadn’t until then realized he was sorely needing. “Give.”

“Excuse me?”

“Give me. The pear.” When all that met him was silence, he tore his gaze away, leveling it back again at the other man and ignoring the feel of eyes judging him. “What? You wanted me to eat and drink something, right? So hand it over.”

Slowly, as if he were still putting together the pieces of some sort of complex puzzle, the man moved, passing items through the bars to Licht’s awaiting hands. “You’re… A very strange man.”

“I’m an angel.” And with that, he bit into the fruit’s unblemished skin with a resounding, satisfying crunch. It was sweet, tart, just the slightest bit gritty, but not at all unpleasant as the juices ran down his chin, Licht closing his eyes to savor the taste. “Sho. Ansher my queshons.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full…” was the muttered reply, and feeling eyes boring steadily into him, Licht cracked an eye open, not seeming the least bit sheepish for the halfhearted scolding. “I think it’s pretty obvious where you are, anyway.”

“Hah?”

Shifting to prop his chin in hand, he continued, waving his free round around with a lazy, lackadaisical motion. “Look around. It’s a dungeon-”

“But where, and why, and who the hell are you?”

“Guildenstern.”

Finally receiving an answer mollified him, somewhat, Licht finally picking up the cup to take a drink and, after giving it a cursory sniff, finding that he quite disliked the metallic taste the copper imbued everything with. Still, it was refreshingly cold against his parched throat, so he couldn’t complain too much, all things considered. “Guildenstern, huh… What’s with the armor?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Least comforting thing you could have said.”

A snort, Guildenstern rising to his feet with a grunt and the creaking of nearly every joint in the whole uncomfortable looking mess, in Licht’s opinion. Yet Guildenstern didn’t seem too bothered by what was undoubtedly a getup that only made his life harder. “Wasn’t supposed to be. Behave yourself. Boss’ll want to know that you’re awake.”

Licht rolled his eyes, stuffing a hunk of bread into his mouth next. “Good. Bring him here so I can kick his ass for making me late for dinner. My parents are going to start worrying if I don’t get home soon. Angels don’t make their parents worry.”

For a moment, Guil paused, and Licht got the distinct, infuriating feeling that he was being pitied by those unseen eyes. “... I’m sorry.”

“You’d better be.” Soon left alone with nothing but a quickly depleting meal and his own thoughts as the loud clanking steadily faded away, Licht eyed the door of his cell, slowly chewing in order to better savor the flavor of the fruit while he thought.

Well, he supposed, there was no use in overthinking it. After all, an angel’s power was absolute and he could overcome anything he set his mind to.

Satisfied with his conclusion, Licht stood, wiped the back of his mouth on his grass and dirt stained sleeve, approached the cell’s door… And kicked with all his might. One way or another, he was going to get out. Guildenstern hadn’t been wrong about it being obvious where he was. He knew without a doubt the where, he had an inkling of the why, but he didn’t particularly want to stick around and confirm his theory. Such a nice meal for a prisoner, when provided by a demon, could only mean one thing. He wasn’t about to be the fattened up main course for any monster, and that getting any info out of the man stationed to guard him had been so difficult only further cemented it in his mind.

“Tch.”

The lock held steady. Once more, then. Once more, once more, as many times as it took…

“Stupid piece of… Just-!” Clang! “Die-!” Clang! “Already-!”

“First you steal my flowers, now you try and break my stuff? After I so graciously provided you with food, too. Maaan…”

Licht growled, the new irritating voice prompting him to put even more power into the swing of his leg than he had been. Although the whole door rattled in its frame… It did not give way. He swore, stepping back as a looming shadow approached.

Glittering golden scales and wickedly curved horns, razor sharp fangs and eyes that burned like hellfire, all wrapped up in cloth as dark and decadent as the pitch of night…

“You sure are a firecracker who just doesn't know when to quit, aren't ya~? Guil says you think you’re an angel. Ha! That’s a riot! So tell me, lil angel…” The dragon leered at him, curling one clawed hand around the bars of his prison while Licht glared back, baring his teeth at the monster before him. “What kind of punishment is suitable for thieves~?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

A startled laugh, smoke curling out from behind unsettlingly human lips. “Ohh, I am gonna have fun~ With~ You~”

A demon, through and through.

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #lawlicht #pawprints #look at me remembering to put a read more #and also include a link to the first part #maybe one day i'll actually set up a real writing blog #or at least put this one in order

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let-it-raines · 4 years

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your wonder under summer skies (10/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

-/-

“Swan? Let’s do what?”

Emma’s lips are parted, and he keeps waiting for her to finish her sentence, to say something. He was rather interested in hearing what exactly she was about to suggest that they do, but she’s no longer paying him any attention.

What could have possibly gotten her attention?

Killian twists his head around to look behind him, and it would be impossible to miss Neal.

Neal and Tamara and the way that they’re standing hand in hand in line for the Ferris wheel like some kind of cliché out of a bad movie that plays on TV every Saturday night.

Well, fuck.

Killian’s hands fall from Emma’s hips before he moves them to her shoulders, tugging on them and trying to get her attention. It doesn’t work at first, but then she’s blinking and shaking her head before snapping her mouth shut, her lips pressed into a firm line.

“Hey, let’s get back to my place, yeah? The fireworks will be soon, and we don’t want Liam and Elsa to get the good spots. Liam’s got that huge head, so he might block the view.”

Her laugh in response is pathetic, and she obviously knows it from the way she overcorrects and attempts to make her laughter genuine. It falls flat. She’s an open book to him sometimes, he wishes all the time, and right now, he knows the path her mind is about to take.

He would know. He’s pretty much paved the damn path for her.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” she hisses, eyes slanting.

“It’s a holiday. Everyone here spends it at the pier.”

“Not Neal. Never Neal. He told me every year that he would never come with me. That asshole.”

Emma pulls away from him, and he loses his grip on her shoulders as she storms off toward Neal. Her swan falls off, and he has to lean down to pick it up.

Bloody hell.

Is he ever going to get to quit chasing this woman?

“Emma,” he shouts before cursing under his breath. He doesn’t need to bring attention to them. “Swan, hey.” He has to jog to catch up to her, tugging on her wrist and pulling her back and away from the main path until they’re standing between two booths.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to go yell at that fucking bastard for showing up here with her.”

“That is not going to make you feel better.”

“Really? Because I think getting to tell him that I absolutely despise him would make me feel a hell of a lot better.”

“For a moment, yeah, but then it all goes away and he gets the satisfaction of knowing that he is still affecting you like this.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. He may be a stubborn ass, but she’s the exact same way.

“Really? You’re telling me this? You, who if I remember correctly, had sex with me to forget about your ex when she showed up, is preaching about momentary satisfaction not being good enough.”

Killian flexes his hand and tries to keep it from balling up into a fist. He’s got the stuffed swan in his left hand, and it’s already straining from how he’s clenching it. Damn thing. He hates how easily it hurts now.

He hates that this is the way Emma is about to be, but if she’s going to have to realize that he’s more than capable of giving what he gets.

Stepping closer to her, Killian dips his head down until his looking into Emma’s eyes. “Aye, that I did, but I was not the first to do it and I also regretted treating you like that. I think it may be smart for you to remember that before you decide to throw stones at me because you’re upset with Neal.”

Her jaw clenches, and her eyes cut away from him. He can feel the heat radiating off of her, and her chest heaves as she breathes. There’s this part of him, something he knows is primal, that can’t look past the way her breasts look as they move or the way that he can see her stomach when he looks down. She’s been wearing a bloody bikini all night, the flannel shirt on top of it not at all buttoned, and he’s tried not to think too much of it.

He has spectacularly failed. The woman is a temptress.

But she is also his best mate, and none of that is what he should be focusing on since it doesn’t even make the list of his priorities at the moment.

“I think I need to be alone.”

“Swan – ”

“It’s…you’re fine. We’re fine. I’ll be on the rooftop at ten like I’m supposed to be so we can all watch explosions in the sky. I just need some time to breathe.”

“Emma.”

She finally looks at him. “I’m not going to talk to Neal. I promise. See you later, okay?”

“In half an hour, love. I’ll save you a seat.”

“Good.”

And then she’s walking away and turning in the opposite direction of Neal and Tamara. Killian, however, can’t seem to do that.

He’s seen Emma upset more times in the past month and a half than he has in the past five years. There have been times when she’s broody and annoyed and mad as hell, occasionally at him, but it’s never been like what he’s seen lately.

It’s never been heartbreak that she’s been attempting to hide.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s never cared this much either.

Right now, though, all he can think about is what a fucking idiot Neal has to be to cheat on Emma and to keep doing things that are going to upset her.

She doesn’t deserve it. No one does.

Well, Neal Cassidy might.

He and Tamara are still standing in line at the Ferris wheel, but Killian now realizes that they’re not in line at all. They’re simply standing there talking with Neal’s hand on Tamara’s ass as she throws her head back in laughter.

If Emma wanted Neal to come here every year, Killian can’t understand why he wouldn’t. They were together for half a decade, and the man couldn’t come once? It’s not asking much. Hell, it’s barely asking anything.

But he’s here with the woman he was sleeping with behind Emma’s back?

Maybe he should have let Emma tell him off because that would feel so damn good right now.

Breathing in, Killian pushes down the urge to walk toward Neal and decides to walk past him. Momentary satisfaction, he reminds himself. If he discouraged Emma from doing it, he can’t be the hypocrite.

Damn does he want to be.

Fortunately, or unfortunately really, for him, Neal seems to want to let him have the opportunity.

“Hey, Jones.”

Fuck.

Killian stops walking and slowly turns on his heels. Cassidy is walking toward him, his girlfriend staying back where they were standing, and Killian is definitely going to rip the head off of this swan before the night is over.

Better it than Neal, he guesses.

(Logistically. He would much rather rip the bastard’s head off, but he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life in prison.)

“Cassidy,” Killian greets, but he doesn’t offer anything else.

Neal smiles and laughs before sticking his hands in his pockets and shrugging. Is he trying to look nice? Because it sure as hell isn’t working.

“Can I talk to you for a minute? In private.”

“You can talk, but you can talk here. I’ve got somewhere to be in a few minutes.”

Neal’s eyes narrow, and he looks down at Killian’s hand. Out of instinct, Killian wants to pull his shirtsleeves down and cover his scars, but that’s not what Neal is looking at.

“Look, man,” Neal sighs, that same, insincere smile on his face, “I saw you walking around earlier with Emma, and I feel like I’ve got to warn you.”

Oh, this asshole definitely deserves to have his head ripped off.

“Pardon?”

“You and Emma.” He shrugs again while Killian straightens his shoulders. “I always kind of knew you two had a thing going on, but I didn’t believe it until I saw you walking around with her earlier. I’m cool with it and all, but I don’t think you know what you’re getting into with her. There are a hell of a lot consequences when it comes to choosing to be with Emma, and they’re not good ones.”

Killian swallows as his teeth start to grind. What kind of bastard is this man? Who the hell does he think he is to tell Killian that there are consequences to being with Emma? Killian wants to laugh, he really does. He wants to laugh and tell Neal that he has no idea what he’s talking about since Killian is most definitely not with Emma.

Mostly, he wants to knock the man’s front teeth out and break his fucking nose. He used to not be this bad. Killian was rarely a fan, but Neal had his redeeming qualities. They could have been friends in a way.

He doesn’t mourn the lost opportunity there.

“What could you possibly know about choosing Emma?” Killian sneers, stepping into Neal’s space. “Because it seems to me that you didn’t, that you did the opposite of that, and for you to think that you have any right to what she does with her life has got to be the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“So, you are fucking her then? I was right.”

It’s like he’s just been slapped across the cheek.

“What could possibly make you think that?”

“You wouldn’t be defending her like that if you weren’t.”

He scoffs and closes his eyes, his breathing heavy. “You said there were consequences to choosing Emma, aye? Well, I would still choose her every damn time even though I’m not with her. You, on the other hand, left, and the consequences of that mean I never want to hear about you trying to interfere with her life again. Go spend time with your girlfriend, Cassidy. I’m sure she’d love to know that you’re still hung up the woman you left to be with her.”

“Fuck you.”

Killian bites his tongue and focuses on the feel of the stuffed swan in his hand to keep him from doing something stupid.

“Emma has always deserved better than you. It’s a shame it took you hurting her to see it. Fuck off, Neal. I think it’s time that you moved on.”

“Neal?” Tamara calls from behind them. “Is everything okay?”

Neal blinks, slowly, and then the smile on his face transforms from sinister to charming. “Just catching up with an old friend.”

And then he walks away and goes back to Tamara.

Killian has no idea what just happened. All he knows is that he’s pissed off, still desperately wants to break Neal’s nose, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to act normal around everyone when they’re watching the fireworks.

He just really needs a damn drink.

But he is not paying for an overpriced one when he’s got perfectly good rum at home.

It’s easy to get back to his apartment once he gets out of the crowd. It’s quieter, too, and he can hear voices coming from the rooftop already. The darkness of the night makes it impossible to tell who’s up there, but he’ll find out soon enough. When he walks inside and makes his way upstairs, Skipper is asleep on the couch. He doesn’t bother to do more than lift his head when Killian comes in. Some guard dog.

Killian puts the swan down on the kitchen island, reaches into the cabinets for a bottle of rum, and takes a long sip. He doesn’t need a glass, not yet.

“You planning on sharing that?” Emma asks.

Shit. He didn’t even know she was here yet, but she’s sitting in the dark corner of the living room with her knees pulled to her chest.

“Do you want some?”

“You don’t have my wine, so yeah, yeah I do.”

She stands from the chair and walks over to him, grabbing the bottle out of his hand before taking a long, slow sip. She’s usually not much of a rum drinker, but it does happen on occasion.

“Why aren’t you up on the roof with the others?”

“Didn’t feel like climbing up there yet. You know, it’s really a shame that the fire escape is not on the side of the building that your room is on. Would have saved me once or twice.”

“I’ll have a talk with whoever built this place a few decades ago.”

She huffs and takes another sip before putting the bottle on the counter. “I wasn’t ready to see everyone. I don’t know. I felt like maybe I couldn’t keep it together, and I…well, I felt really damn pathetic.”

“Hey, hey, no, don’t do that. I – ” Killian sighs and reaches forward to put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “Do you want to go to my room and talk? I know we don’t have our slushies, but I think it can still work.”

“To talk or to…”

His lips press together. “To talk, love. Come on.”

Killian gently pushes Emma out of the kitchen until she’s walking toward his bedroom. He grabs the swan off the counter as a last-minute thought before following her. She doesn’t turn on the lights, so he doesn’t either. Instead he moves to open the curtains on all of his windows so that moonlight filters through. The fireworks will be starting soon, and he doesn’t want to miss them. He’s got a pretty good feeling they won’t make it up to the roof tonight, but he’s fine with that.

His mattress squeaks as Emma settles down, and it shifts when he joins her, the both of them settling against the headboard and under the comforter. It’s silent for awhile, and while Killian thinks Emma is going to take the lead, he finally realizes that she isn’t.

For once, it might have to be him making the first move.

Out of the corner of his eyes, his scars flash silver in the moonlight, and all of the sudden, Killian has this unbelievable need to share something he hasn’t talked about in years.

Something he’s never wanted to tell Emma before, but now, it’s all he can think about.

“Do you know how I got the scars on my arm, love?”

She twists her head. He’s not looking at her, but he can feel her gaze on his face instead of his arm. “No.”

“I was in an accident.”

“When you were in the Navy?”

Killian clicks his tongue. If only.

If only it had been that. He imagines that might be easier to deal with when it’s all said and done, but that’s not at all what happened.

“It was a car accident, actually.” He swallows and braces himself. If he focuses on simply staring at the painting of a sailboat hanging above his television, he might be able to get through this. “I was with my girlfriend at the time. Her name was Milah. We’d been out to dinner, and I was driving us back to my place. The roads were empty. I swear, I’d never even seen them that empty, and our light turned green so I started driving when an SUV ran a red light and crashed right into us in the intersection. I don’t actually know what happened after that, but the police report said we flipped several times before hitting a tree.”

A soft, small hand brushes against his own, and he spreads his fingers so Emma can twine hers together with his. It’s the most comfort he’s felt in ages, so he doesn’t stop himself when he brings their joined hands to his lips.

“Milah died in that accident, while all that happened to me was my hand getting caught in the door and shards of glass leaving some pretty nasty scars. I don’t even know how I stood up again after Liam told me she was gone. I didn’t think I would survive. I was so young and in love, and I thought she and I had the entire world in front of us.”

Emma squeezes his hand, and really, it’s better that way instead of her trying to say anything.

That’s not why he’s sharing this.

“I was so heartbroken. I’d never felt pain like that before, but then, as I started to make funeral arrangements, I got a call from her husband telling me that I was not welcome. I didn’t know she had a husband, that she had a son either, and it was like I was grieving two different things: the woman I’d lost and the woman I thought I knew.”

“Killian.”

“Don’t,” he whispers, pulling their arms over Emma’s shoulder and tugging her closer. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want pity. I simply felt like you deserved to know this about me and to know why I am so unbelievably fucked up when it comes to relationships. I loved a woman who lied to me for years, and I loved her still even after I knew about it. That anger you feel toward Neal? The one that’s mixed with betrayal and sadness and this underlying love, I have felt it. Sometimes I still do, and you are not pathetic for feeling anything that you’re feeling. I don’t care how many times we have to have this conversation. I will tell you the same thing every damn time.”

“Maybe one day I’ll actually be able to listen to you and believe it.”

“It takes time, and while I’m sure one of our friends is much better equip to understand emotions, I know that I understand you, Emma. I always have, and though you piss me off half the time, I’m never going to judge you for anything.”

She sighs, her shoulders moving with it, and then she leans her head over to his shoulder, strands of her hair tickling his chin, and Killian tugs her closer before brushing his lips against her forehead. There’s a loud whistle outside and then an explosion of light that flickers down over and over again as the fireworks show starts. the view isn’t quite the same from in here, the height of the windows not quite right, but he’s not going to complain. There are things much more important than lights in the sky.

“Do you want to hear something stupid?” Emma suddenly asks.

“I always want to hear something stupid.”

“I’ve never won a stuffed animal before. Hell, I’ve never even had one as a kid.”

Suddenly, he gets why it was such a big deal to Emma that Neal come with her to the festival. He understood, partially, but sometimes he forgets that Emma’s childhood wasn’t ideal. It was hard and painful from the few things he’s been honored to hear from her, and even with how much his sucked, it wasn’t like Emma’s. He at least had a few good experiences before his mum died and before his father became one of the biggest asses in the world.

It’s not a competition in who has had a shittier life, but it does help him keep on understanding her. A few days ago she made some off-hand comment about having a few minor run-ins with the law as a teenager, something about stealing food from convenience stories, and it clicked in his mind why she doesn’t like when Neal works at the pawn shop.

She doesn’t want to fall back into her past, and she doesn’t want to take any risks that are going to lead her there.

Knowing that and knowing that Neal must have known too, makes Killian seriously regret not breaking the man’s nose.

“It’s not stupid, love. If it’s important to you, in any way, it’s important to me.”

Her laugh is lost amongst the sound of the fireworks, but he still hears it. It’s a good sound to be able to hear.

“I always wanted to get to play the games as a kid, but I didn’t have the money. So, I don’t know. It was nice. It was stupid, but it was nice. I’ll have to find a place to put it in my apartment even though I’m not sure where in my apartment it would go.”

“On that chair in your bedroom where you put all the clothes you’re supposed to put up but never do.”

“Shut up. Just accept that I’m thankful for it. Don’t make fun of my laundry habits.”

“Sweetheart, I’ll win you however many stuffed animals your heart desires. No questions asked.”

“Then I expect several next year.”

Killian laughs into her hair as something unfamiliar settles in his stomach. “It’s a deal.”

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @elizabeethan @captain-emmajones @csalltheway @itsfabianadocarmo

#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan

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chiclet-go-boom · 4 years

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AND ANOTHER THING

Okay, back to insomnia for another night since this stupid fucking movie is keeping me awake with emotional trauma. So here are my highlights of pain because I have nothing else to do at 4am but try and get them out of me and into the void where hopefully they’ll rot quietly.

Long rant about The Rise of Skywalker with even more swear words.

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

PLOT HOLES SO DEEP THEY HAVE THEIR OWN EVENT HORIZON

Pretty much this entire movie, but these are the highlights that stick out:

How the fuck did Palpatine survive his on-camera death? It’s not only never explained, it’s never even touched on. Nobody asks any questions, ever. Complete retcon for the Original Trilogy.

How the fuck was Palpatine somehow Snoke as well? We get a brief shot of Snoke clones in a vat, and that’s it for what we know. His old ass raisin body is still around looking creepier than ever, so he’s not transferring his consciousness around into new vessels apparently.

If he was Snoke, why the hell did he command Kylo to kill Rey in the throne room of the Supremacy “to complete his training”, when his motivation for this movie was to get Rey alive to Exogol to kill him so he could… transfer his consciousness? See previous point.

Palpatine tells Rey she has to kill him so they can “be one” in order to save her friends… only if she does that and he takes her over, he’s not likely going to save her friends. Yet Rey treats it as a serious choice.

If Palpatine wants Rey to kill him so he can merge with her or take her over or whatever the hell transfer of sith power is suppose happen and then she turns around AND DOES IT, why is Palpatine actually really dead now? He wanted to be dead. That was the whole point. Do I trust in this? Or is the guy just mostly-dead again. This plotline whistles, it has so many holes.

Rey and Kylo Ren are equals in the Force. Rey is shown at the very beginning of the movie happily drifting twenty feet in the air while doing her best impression of an atom illustration at the same time. If you read the comics, Snoke is also shown tossing a younger Kylo over a cliff and Kylo catches himself with the Force above the rocks. Now, Kylo gets tossed into a pit at the end and just… falls to his near death? And has to climb up using his hands? Why show Rey floating if you’re not going to use it later for Kylo? Does JJ just not get the concept behind Chekhov’s Gun?

Lightspeed skipping. Very cool. I’ll allow it in space, particularly if you have a Force sensitive pilot who might be able to sense where they’re going and not rip themselves apart by impacting something solid (hello, Holdo Sacrifice Maneuver) but you can’t jump to lightspeed in gravity wells. You’ll tear your ship apart. The fact that Han did once is an outlier and should not be counted because that asshole has the galaxy’s own luck when it comes to bending fate and consequence. Did absolutely nobody read Wookiepedia?

And now TIE fighters can do it too and have both hyperspeed and hyperspace tracking technology installed? Kylo’s Whisper is unique with its lightspeed capabilities, a cutting edge piece of technology, but the ships chasing Poe in the opening Resistance sequence are just run of the mill fighter ships. They should have been left in the proverbial dirt.

JUST GENERAL CRATER SIZES PLOTHOLES

Why did Kylo try to mow Rey down with his actual ship, when it had perfectly serviceable and oh, deadly guns?

If C3PO wasn’t permitted by his programming to translate the dagger (because otherwise this movie would be over a lot faster), why didn’t they just go to a library on Coruscant?

Luke and Leia knew Rey was of Palpatine blood all along? Then why did neither of them know who the hell she was when they met in the previous movies? Luke even said “Who are you?” right to her face.

Why the hell did Rey die? She had all the power of a thousand generations at her fingertips and they’ve already shown she can heal mortal wounds. Instead she just… keels over because the script told her to. So Ben can turn up and heal her back, because they share the same soul and he has the same power. You know, the ability to heal mortal wounds? Only now it’s his turn to keel over for no reason. And if he has to fade into the Force, why the fuck didn’t Rey do it first, leaving him no body to save?

How the hell does a dagger that can point to an ancient Sith wayfinder artefact have an exact match to the outline of a piece of wreckage. It would only be useable from a precise angle and distance to the silhouette - the angle and distance that nobody had any way of knowing.

Since when can Force ghosts catch material objects out of the air and lift physical machinery?

Speaking of, how the hell does a rusted, damaged X-Wing deliberately sunk for a decade in order to strand its owner on-planet with no way off even if he changes his mind have no problems drying out and working perfectly for a hyperspace jump?

Kylo’s Whisper had the wayfinder plugged into it when he went to Exogol. He then used his ship to try and run Rey down on Pasaana, only she damaged it and the central cockpit went up in a ball of flame, sans wings. The wayfinder should have been toast, yet it somehow turns up on a different ship, the one that Rey steals from Kylo on the Death Star. Is the wayfinder now on all Kylo’s ships? The magic multiplying wayfinder? And completely immune to blistering fire temperatures that melted a space-capable ship?

Why is an entire fleet of destroyers, so many they dwarf the skies, just sitting idly on a planet and needing navigational guidance in order to get above atmosphere? Who grounds a star destroyer at all, let alone a murderous amount of them?

How did they get planet killing weapons on those destroyers without massive amounts of kyber? Kyber is scarce, Starkiller Base would have likely wiped out any known remaining stocks of the precious mineral. And the stuff is unstable as fuck, which is why its limited to lightsabers (tiny amounts of crystal) or huge moon-sized bases to contain it. Sticking it on a ship should be impossible. It’s never questioned or explained.

Why was Palpatine surprised by the Force Bond? Surprised enough to completely abandon his plan to take over Rey and instead decided he’d just suck the bond dry of power to regenerate his body (well, it fixed his fingers at least). If he was Snoke or controlling Snoke as he claimed, he should have not only known all about it, he should have known how strong it was.

Rey won by deflecting Palpatine’s Force lightning back at him and melting his body like shades of The Lost Ark. All he needed to do was… stop using lightning and I don’t know, Force push her into the pit with Kylo. Rey problem solved. If Kylo couldn’t levitate anymore, Rey sure couldn’t.

IT TRIVIALIZES CONSEQUENCES. IT TRIVIALIZES SACRIFICE.

In one of the few cool and unexpected things, Rey destroys a transport with Force lightning. She kills her friend Chewbacca (and a bunch of redshirt stormtroopers). She screams in horror but finally runs away from the crime. We’re all devastated, poor Chewie

But wait, no! There were two transports out of fucking nowhere apparently and Chewie is just captured. So it’s a mulligan, people. His death is erased, it didn’t happen. This also counts as a plot hole since Rey senses Chewbacca nearby on the destroyer later just fine, but couldn’t tell he was just on the other side of the rock while they were on the ground.

In order to be permitted to translate the Sith markings on the dagger, C3PO has to undergo a factory reset. He has a poignant moment saying goodbye to everyone and then metaphorically lays down and dies for the cause. But wait! No, actually he’s fine. R2D2 restores nearly his entire memory later on, we can all calm down now.

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo sacrifices himself for the love of his life and nobody takes even a second to mourn him. Even Rey just moves on with no trouble - she doesn’t even cry. If it happens, it happens off camera and therefore doesn’t happen at all. His sacrifice meant nothing because nobody but nobody will ever know about it.

SO MUCH PANDERING IT SHOULD LOUNGE AGAINST A STREETLIGHT

C3PO, a minor character in all the movies, suddenly has a major speaking part and actual plot relevance.

Rey training with the blind helmet and the hunter drone like Luke did.

Rey wearing a Rebel helmet as she escapes from Ahch-To.

Lando. Again. Used as a signpost (go that way, kids!) and appears again with the cavalry later, just like he did in previous movies.

Rey sliding down yet another dune

Ewoks cheering as something blows up in the sky

A star destroyer going down over the Jakku ship graveyard.

Double sunrise/sunset on a sand planet. (fine, I can live with this one)

Chewbacca finally get a medal

Tatooine itself and the Lars homestead.

THE COMPLETE LOSS OF CHARACTERISATION

Rose Tico who? She has a couple of throwaway lines and a walk on appearance. What a jerk move for a great character.

Hux gets barely more significance and completely throws away his entire motivation from the first two movies (a calculated rise to power to command a galaxy wide army because he wants control of everything) in exchange for utterly petty harrassment. It’s not even revenge, he can’t affect much. He doesn’t even plot against Kylo, he just kicks the metaphorical equivalent of sand onto Kylo’s robes and mutters something about rubber and glue. Then gets himself killed because he’s stupid. This is the man who masterminded a superweapon and used it, only to get taken out with a bulky bandage wrapped around the outside of his uniform.

Finn’s decision to leave the First Order in an act of real bravery is reduced to because a “feeling” told him too. Because he has the Force. But doesn’t tell anyone all year. For reasons. He had two character arcs in the other movies, moving him away from a drone in a faceless army into a person with agency and something to offer, and he spends three quarters of this movie running after Rey and yelling her name.

Poe. Oh god, they murdered Poe. He’s the fucking son of real heroes of the Resistance, a golden child with his own legacy burdens and they instead they give him (and his Hispanic actor) a drug dealer background. Crass at best, utterly contemptible at worst. The movies are the most canon canon that it can be. Did nobody check Poe’s Wookiepedia page before putting this into the script?

Kylo Ren kills both his masters in the previous movie, only to bow to a third within the first five minutes in this one. Kylo says “I’ll kill you too” but the next thing we know, he’s got red decals on his helmet proclaiming his new allegiance. What the fuck? Then spends most of the movie contradicting everything he said in TLJ proving that yes, Kylo Ren was lying to Rey all along and it all was a manipulative dick move to consolidate personal power at the expense of everything else. Spends his time gaslighting her and telling her she has no choice but to be his queen.

(side note on this: he TELLS her she WILL take his hand the next time he offers it… aaaaand she doesn’t. Again. Why the fuck did they put that in the script at all? So Kylo can look stupid by being so confident and forceful with his prediction only to get blown off when the moment comes around again? pfft.)

Even Palpatine isn’t consistent. He wanted to live forever, tricking Death and reigning as the supreme Sith Lord for all time. Instead in this movie he apparently just wants to be Rey. He spends 30 years grooming the scion of Skywalker and does absolutely nothing with him in the end.

TOLD THE WRONG FUCKING STORY

This story should have pulled threads from Anakin’s fall and Luke’s failure and used them to tell a story about how its always possible to come back from the worst of your choices and that love for family, love for friends and love for each other is the one real power in the world.

Instead all the Skywalkers died because Palpatine worked through three generations to subvert the will of the very Force so that his bloodline is the only one that remains ascendant. Rey turns out only to be powerful because her grandfather was powerful, completely negating the idea that the Force plays no favorites and anybody can be the one to turn the tide of evil. Anakin’s children are painted in the worst possible light and the entire saga ends on a horrible, desolate note because all of them died and the one who deserved it the least had to give the utmost, and will still always be painted as the villain.

We had bad guys already. The First Order. Hux. Fuck, they could have elevated Mitaka and given the poor baby some meatier lines. We could have had a stormtrooper uprising, which would have tied beautifully to Finn and given him an arc. We had a power dynamic we cared about - Hux versus Kylo which could have gone in very interesting directions with Snoke no longer holding either of their leashes. We did not need a completely new army full of ships to fight and the complete erasure and irrelevance of the First Order.

The decision to include Palpatine could have been a specific plot tied to Kylo-as-Skywalker-bloodline, exploring and driving his redemption as the extent of his lifelong manipulation becomes apparent. Instead, he’s got nothing to do with Kylo other than spouting a few lines at the Supreme Leader at the beginning and then tossing him into the pit at the end. What a waste of an intriguing idea.

Going by dialogue count and the amount of scenes he’s in, Poe is the protagonist in this story, except nothing changes for him. Rey wanders around angry for most of the movie for reasons that are unclear and nothing changes for her either except the revelation that her grandpa is still around which she tells nobody about so it’s never a thing that needs to be dealt with. Kylo is an unyielding, uncompromising murder bot again and is the only one where something about him materially changes, even if its kinda hamfisted. We ran around for the entire movie and nobody even SAID anything to each other for the most part, honestly.

Han Solo’s memory was poignant, if you’re okay with rehashes of conversations we’ve already had in other movies. Kylo Ren/Ben Solo has no lines of dialogue for nearly the last hour of the movie beyond ‘ow’. How his actor managed to carry his character through that anyways is a fucking tribute to Adam Driver’s skill with his facial expressions.

Leia crawled off into a hole to die with nobody noticing and managed to distract her son long enough to get him likely mortally stabbed by the person who was supposed to love him most. Rey did what Luke failed to do. She even regretted it right afterwards just like Luke did. (For the record, this is the point in the movie where I gave up all hope. If Rey could actually bring herself to hurt Kylo, let alone stick his own saber in his chest, I didn’t recognize her character anymore.)

Luke promised Kylo he’d see him again, but then spent all his Force energy motivating Rey, so Kylo died still hating his uncle and never forgiving his mom.

Kylo Ren never reconciled himself with Ben Solo. The movie just treated him like he had a Jekyll/Hyde thing going on so they could throw Kylo into the sea, leaving only Ben behind. That is so fucking simplistic I could have howled.

JUST STRAIGHT UP ‘WUT’ MOMENTS

They literally dropped on top of the dagger mcguffin that had been buried for twenty years. Just. Fell on it.

Rey’s parents sold her into slavery to keep her safe? Say wut?

How the fuck did Palpatine lose track of his kid and his grandkid in the first place? Palpatine doesn’t have kids in canon, he’s SITH. He doesn’t share. If he had relatives, they’d’ve been sacrificed on a Dark Altar loooong before now.

Why is Rey on Tatooine with BB8? Isn’t that Poe’s droid? Did Poe and his droid get a divorce?

Why the hell does Rey have a new lightsaber out of literally nowhere. Ben just died three minutes ago onscreen. Why are we suddenly looking at new glowing stick. Did weeks pass? Months?

How did Leia become a Jedi and we’re only just finding out about it now? And if Leia was a Jedi, why the fuck did she send her ten year old special needs son to his uncle? Are they actually trying to paint Leia as a bad mother who dumped a problem child on her family to take care of while she carried on with her life?

MISSED OPPORTUNITIES

The Knights of Ren. They just turned out to be four seconds of eye candy and completely unnecessary. They wandered around looking vaguely menacing and that was their entire function. They didn’t even actually menace anything until fighting their supposed Master for a half minute for completely ambiguous reasons. Why were they even in the film in the first place?

Jannah could very well be Lando’s daughter per the supplementary materials, but it’s not even mentioned when Lando first pops up - that he’s living on this planet now and his young daughter was harvested by the First Order. It would have been a great “heyyyy” moment at the end when he offers to help her find her family.

Anakin. Oh sweet biscuits and gravy, why didn’t Hayden Christensen make a cameo in this as Anakin and give Kylo hope at the end? We could have tied the prequels to the sequels so effortlessly and given our favorite character something he’s wanted for most of his life, the approval and love of his grandfather. Hell, I personally would trade Han Solo’s moment (as sweet as it was) for a moment with Vader.

Kylo (or Rey by proxy) never got a chance to heal his kyber crystal. That should have happened, it would have been fucking poignant to mend something fractured that badly and been a much better symbol than Kylo simply throwing his saber away. It’s supposed to represent his life, his soul. Again, see previous comment about dumb Jekyll/Hyde parallel.

IN CONCLUSION

If you could care less about these characters and Star Wars and you are indeed a casual fan, this movie is pretty to look at. That’s its one redeeming feature. Finn and Poe have great banter, they should have been boyfriends. D-O was cute. Poor Snap, I guess.

Yes, I care that Rey and Kylo/Ben got their kiss, but it was robbed of nearly every iota of emotional weight by the previous two hours of near useless plot and exposition. It could have made me happy cry. Instead I was all but numb with the whiplash, and when I heard “Rey Skywalker” I couldn’t get out of the theatre fast enough.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk on how emotional trauma over fictional characters has all but derailed my Christmas.

#the rise of skywalker #tros spoilers

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xxbyimm · 5 years

Text

Enya’s Unexpected Journey - Chapter 22

For other chapters or this journey, click here: Enya’s story or Masterlist

So there it is, finally. The next chapter to this journey. Kudos to @deepestfirefun, @pixiedurango and @thestorybookmistress for listen to me whine and giving me tips on how to make this right. Also lots of love to my wonderful D&D dungeons master B. for proofreading this and helping me with the plot! You’re awesome. Also my bestie D., I love you for being the best critic in the world.

Enjoy.

Chapter 22

Summary: Enya takes on the dragon Smaug.

Taglist: Since my taglist is old and doesn’t work anymore, I try to remember people as best as I can. I’m sorry If you’re being tagged unwillingly, or if you wish to be tagged, let me know. @deepestfirefun, @oakenshieldsmizimel @nelswp @bellastellaluna @leah-halliwell92 @jotink78 @evyiione @fergrigori @jessieray98

Warnings: As always, Enya’s swearing.

‘Oakenshield! LET ME OUT!’

Seriously. If Smaug hadn’t killed that stubborn dwarf king already, she definitely wanted the honor. Enya groaned and shoved herself against the marble door. All that talk about accepting her and her powers, allowing her to do her thing and then instead of trusting her on this… LOCK HER UP?!

Enya gritted her teeth. Although she couldn’t see a damn thing in here, she felt her cheeks burning hot with shame. What could have been a faulty door, the lack of Thorin’s presence, his voice promising her to get her out as fast as possible made it all too clear. She felt stupid for walking into his trap, for thinking he would finally stop overprotecting her. She should have known better, but there she was, in the narrow corridor that Thorin earlier had described as the fastest path down into Erebor. And the worst was that this was all due to the fact that her brain had been too infatuated by their earlier lovemaking to pay attention…..

‘Oh girl, but it WAS something…’ her mind mused.

Enya heaved a sigh. Yes it was. She really didn’t need her stupid brain to remind her how fantastic sex with Thorin was, she remembered quite well on her own. But right now, the dim and airless void made her nervous. She never really enjoyed being in the dark, especially not in a hallway that made her claustrophobic. In other words, she had to find a way out. She quickly filled her palms with fire and warm orange light filled the small passage, allowing herself to explore her surroundings. She paced into the direction from whence they came and cursed under her breath when she met a dead end. Great! Thorin must have closed the entrance after her. Enya pushed against the flat marble surface and growled when it didn’t give in. She studied the exterior by tracing her fingers over the stone, in an effort to discover a crack. This was absolutely ridiculous. She came through a door in this specific spot just five minutes ago. There had to be an opening somewhere!

But there was nothing.

‘Strange…’ she whispered and turned around. Since one access point was Thrain’s royal study, she suspected this passage was made for the Durin family only. And since one Durin locked her up in the first place and the remaining two weren’t around to save her ass, she could conclude that no living soul was going to find her here.

‘Except if Dís shows up in Erebor…’ her mind chatted. ‘But that seems highly unlikely, don’t you think?’

Yep, so just one stubborn dwarven king knew she was here and he wasn’t going to retrieve her anytime soon. Ugh. Those were definitely not encouraging thoughts when you needed your mind to come up with smart suggestions…

Enya looked around. With her flames lighting up the way, Enya discovered the corridor was small, but not as claustrophobic as it had felt a few moments ago. She heaved a sigh. The walls consisted of plain marble stone, but above her head there was a row of richly decorated ones, displaying the royal bloodline and scenes from their everyday life. The ceiling was made out of plain marble again, the surface so smooth one would think it actually was one piece. Enya arched an eyebrow, not daring to think about how it got up there without the techniques of the modern world. Even this little passages like this showed her the mighty skills of the dwarven race.

The floor consisted of a beautiful mosaic image, the bluish colors shining bright in the light of Enya’s flames. She followed its trail towards the other end while revering in its beauty. The image depicted the Durin’s folks’ royal bloodline. Under her feet she discovered Durin I, also called ‘the deathless’, and he was followed by his successors Durin II, III, IV, V and VI. Then there came a Náin I and Thráin I, and after them Thorin I, who (if she remembered this right) decided to leave the lonely mountain to find more fortune in the Grey Mountains. Enya walked along the blue line and admired the craftmanship. Ah, there was Dáin I, Thorin’s great grandfather, the one who got slain by a cold-drake. She glanced over to the other forefathers and shivered. Too many lives of the line of Durin were taken by dragons. She had to prevent Smaug from putting yet another name on that list…

Finally she reached Thorin’s grandfather Thrór and stood still for a moment. Thrór was the last one on the family tree… This couldn’t be right?! Enya knitted her brows together. ‘Oh! Right, kings.’ She then muttered to herself. ‘Thorin and Thráin weren’t kings at the time the lonely mountain…’

The words lingered on her lips, but she didn’t dare to finish her sentence, suddenly feeling wary it could bring bad luck to speak of those bad events. She bit her lip and got on her knees. She carefully let her flame floating in the air before she started exploring the patterns of stones under her. There had to be a button, a handle, or at least a hint in here. Because, after all, she found it highly unlikely that Erebor consisted solely of hidden doors. She refused to believe that there wasn’t a way out. Her heart stopped a few times when her fingers found a few rough edges, but other than that nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She glanced over the next few meters of floor and established that the change a clue was hidden in the floor, was pretty slim. Maybe the carvings on the walls contained a sign. She got up and began her search.

After what felt like hours of concentrated work she crashed down against the wall and rested the back of her head on the cool marble. This was ridiculous! There had to be a way out, and she currently was too blind to see the obvious. Or… the other possibility made her a bit apprehensive. What if there wasn’t one and she was going to perish in here? Enya quickly dismissed the thought again and rolled her eyes. Although Thorin was a selfish stubborn bastard, he wouldn’t let her die in here. At least, that was if he hadn’t lost his sanity today. Absentmindedly she stared at her fire crawling back into her hand again, the flames calmly licking her palm. Then her gaze shifted at the image that was carved into the stone above her.

Could that be…?

Balin had told her all about the history of Durin’s folk, and especially the magnificence of Thrór’s throne. The throne which contained the Arkenstone. She shot up, a hesitant smile displayed on her lips. Oh, she should have seen this one earlier. She had been a fool after all, and a blind one too. Enya stood on her toes and her fingers found the small oval-shaped carving, gently giving it a push. The stone protested, the tiny mechanism behind it was probably rigid after not being used for a few decades. Enya heard a soft click and prayed that the clever dwarven engineering had passed the test of time. With a squeaking sound the piece of marble before her made way for a moderately sized opening. She took a deep breath and stepped through it.

At that exact moment, the mountain under her came to life. The majestic structure shook in its foundations, almost causing Enya to lose her balance. Her flames shot from her palms into the dark void as she steadied herself against the wall. She frowned when her surroundings lit up. She had expected another (rather endless) corridor, but she actually had stepped onto an old spiral staircase, that stretched down as far as she could see. The stairs were, just like the passage, made from plain marble. Beautiful marble branches that were carved into the railing stretched out before her, inviting her to come along. Enya took a few steps down, enjoying the stone patterns gliding smoothly under her hands. She smiled when her fingers discovered a tiny marble rose, sticking out from one of the branches. To be honest, one wouldn’t expect that dwarves were so fond of nature to take time to create a masterpiece like this. Of course, they were capable of making the most exquisite and delicate things, but more often the inspiration did not lie in the wonders of the wild. She took another step down and peered into the darkness beneath her. The staircase went further down. She heaved a sigh. Well, she probably should-

Another violent roar rumbled through the stone and she clenched onto the railing. The mountain seemed to groan in protest of the events that took place down below her. Enya took a deep breath, a shiver passing through her spine. She knew all too well what was causing this sound, and it certainly was no earthquake. There was no time left to spare, she had to move. She had to be there before all hell was going to break loose.

Dragon.

Enya descended the stairs as fast as she possibly could go, consequently tripping over her own feet. The mountain started to growl around her again and she groaned in response. If she kept going in this fast but yet too slow pace, the whole company would be nothing more than a pile of ash once she finally arrived. ‘Brilliant idea, Thorin…’ she murmured while she regained her balance and proceeded her way down again. ‘Depriving your followers of the one thing that can save their and your rather perfectly tight ass! Splendid notion! If you won’t get scorched by that damned fire drake, then I will-’

A surprised shriek left her mouth as she missed a step and collapsed down the stairs. Her body froze and her hands automatically shot forward, in an attempt to protect herself and break the fall. She closed her eyes and readied herself for the inevitable smack. A crackling sound reached her ears and the air got pushed out of her lungs as she crashed down on the stone steps. A sharp pain shot through her body as it received the blow and Enya hissed. Her muscles relaxed and for a moment she laid there, her eyes closed and her body still.

‘Babe, instead of getting all worked up, you should probably watch where you are going…’ her mind told her. ‘Or did you intend to study the marble of this specific step?’ ‘Oh, shut up.’ she grumbled. ‘I’m so done right now.’

Well, fuck. That hurt.

But not as bad as she had thought it would. The surface under her was hard and cold as hell, but not quite as uneven as she expected. Enya finally peered through her lashes and heaved a sigh. Her instinct had, once again, saved her from disaster. She was laying, face down, on a whimsical ice sculpture. The ice was dramatically draped across the stairs, a sturdy edge preventing her from sliding any further. She scrambled herself together and got on her knees as she studied her own piece of art. ‘Well, if anyone asks what I was up to today…’ she murmured. ‘I was producing art that would make any sculptor proud.’ She shook her head and heaved a sigh. Alright, she could cross “making a life sized sculpture” off her bucket list, but the real question here was how on earth she could get down without tripping over another thousand times…

A devious smile appeared on her lips when she watched some water trickle down onto the next step. Of course. When life gives you lemons…

You’d better make one hell of a lemonade.

She crawled towards the edge of her sculpture and reached out. Water dripped from her hands, first slowly but then accelerating into a waterfall. Enya turned her hands a little, guiding the water into a stream and freezing the fluid into an icy slope. She waited until she believed her water had moved down enough.

Enya took a deep breath, ignoring the nervous pit that grew in her stomach. It had been at least one (and probably a hell of a lot more) decade since she had gone down a slide, and those structures back home were a hundred percent safe. She peered down her self-made version and made a face. She had no idea where she was going, or if the staircase further down was destroyed. She had to be totally bonkers to do this.

Well. Yeah. Was there really a choice? It couldn’t be worse than going through portals, could it? She just was going to slide down and in the process making around a hundred loops or so. Her icy slide should be safe enough, she had to trust her own engineering on this one. Enya nodded slowly and took another deep breath before lowering herself down on the slope.

Alright. Now all she needed was a gush of wind to keep her going. She closed her eyes, focusing on the air around her. She exhaled slowly and a soft breeze pushed her forward. Her nails dragged halfheartedly over the slope, a part of her being not willing to let go yet. An unspoken question burned on her lips.

‘What if I will fall?’ ‘But oh, darling…’ her mind purred in response. ‘What if you fly…’

After the mountain would be reclaimed and Fíli and Kíli had rejoined them, she would definitely ask them to do this again. She knew those devious bastards would enjoy this at least as much. The wind blew through her hair and Enya threw her hands up, a light-hearted giggle escaping her lips. This was awesome. The slide took her round and round, swiftly taking her down to her destination. Enya watched the scenery on the railing gradually change. The flowers disappeared and the branches came together into one thick stem, which had a fantastically pattern carves into it. She went too fast to distinguish every little detail of the trunk, but she got the overall idea. The railing seemed to be, in her mind anyway, a tree. And since she only passed the tree trunk anyway, she guessed it was a long way down. She could only hope her handiwork reached that far too.

By the time the railing had shifted into tree roots (that were holding marble rocks and even tiny bones) Enya had stopped already once to peer down the staircase. Her head was spinning from the last 500 loops she just made (alright, it probably weren’t that many, but sure as hell felt like it) and a little break was much needed. ‘So far for my hurry…’ she murmured to herself. Getting there in time was one thing, but if it meant her dazed brain would see three dragons instead of one, she doubted she would be of any aid. She raised a hand and released a large flame into the void. She watched it floating down and tried to establish the number of loops she had to endure. ‘Okay.’ She muttered. ‘At least five. We should be fine.’ She sat down on the slope again and a short blow from behind set her off again. She took a deep breath and counted as she tried to not give attention to this weak feeling in her stomach. The tree roots on the railing seemed to change, they grew thinner and thinner until most lines disappeared, only to be replaced by rocks and stones. Enya grinned. This meant she was getting closer towards her destination, whatever that may be. Probably not the dungeons, but another place the royal family needed quick access to. The heart of the mountain, the most important place in dwarven society…

Her heart made a leap when her flame, floating just a few loops before her, seemed to stop. At last, her sliding journey was coming to an end! She slowed down and then got up to descend the last few steps on foot. Her legs felt a little wobbly, but other than that, she could conclude this new manner of transportation had more or less passed the test. She motioned her fire to follow her and gazed around the room. The staircase leaded into a round space, again closed off. Enya heaved a sigh and studied the walls, in search for another hidden doorway. But, luckily for her, this side of the passage wasn’t so secret. A massive door, seemingly consisting of the stone from this very mountain, stood before her. Enya gripped the sturdy ring that was hammered into the stone and pulled. When the door didn’t oblige, she threw herself against it and pushed.

Nothing!

She rolled her eyes, wondering if these “not knowing to push or pull” problems were strictly reserved for the beings from her world, or if the women in middle earth came across likewise situations.

‘Probably not.’ Her mind mused. ‘But they encounter other problems like-’ Enya shook her head and focused on the door instead. Maybe with the right amount of force… She inhaled slowly, her senses extremely aware of the movement in the air around her. The hairs on her arms stood up, the atmosphere grew heavy, prickling with anticipation like a silence before the storm. Then she released her power and with a violent roar the door blew open, the hinges squealing. With a deafening smack stone crashed into stone and Enya stepped over the threshold.

Indeed, she had winded up somewhere down in the forges. Four enormous round furnaces stood in a row at the right side of the room. On the left, the space was closed off by a latticework of iron pillars. In the middle of the room stood four dwarves and one hobbit. Enya heaved a relieved sigh. She hadn’t expected to find the company so quickly again, but there they were: looking frightened, but yet unharmed and-

Wait a minute.

Where was their charming leader? And Dwalin? Or Nori? And what about Bifur and Gloin? Where was everybody? Enya took a sprint towards the company. The area behind the iron latticework seemed to be a large hallway and in the distance she heard Dwalin shouting Thorin’s name, accompanied by the smashing sound of an axe into something metal. Her heart skipped a bit. ‘Thank mahal!’ Balin exclaimed. ‘I thought we had to stand up against that vile thing without our fire witch!’ ‘Not a chance in hell. ’Enya huffed. ‘I just took a detour. Where is everyone?!’ ‘We don’t know.’ Dori said softly. ‘We came here separately. I haven’t seen Gloin and Bifur yet, and Thorin got into trouble with Smaug. I believe Nori and Dwalin are trying to save him.’ ‘WHAT?!’ she shrieked. ‘Enya!’ Bilbo said, sounding as relieved as scared. ‘Thank goodness you’re alright. We need your help!’ he fretted. ‘Bilbo, what is he doing?!’ Enya interrupted while grasping the halfling by his shoulders. She knew it was rather rude of her, but right now was not the time to exchange niceties. Balin merely sadly shook his head, and even sassy Bilbo couldn’t provide her with a sensible answer. They all looked very shaken.

‘Damnit!’ Enya pushed Bilbo aside and ran towards the other side of the room. ‘What the hell did he-’ The ground under her shook and from the pit emerged a deep growl. When she passed the iron pillars into the hallway, she saw -thank mahal- Thorin climbing over the edge of a shaft, aided by Nori. They ducked when a great fire blazed from the pit just behind them. ‘Go! Go!’ Thorin shouted at his comrades and the trio ran as fast as they could towards the forges, visibly terrified by the clamor that was coming from the depths. Enya stopped in her tracks, waiting for them.

Because when the most hardened warriors in middle earth make a run for it, you know its fucking serious.

‘Enya!’ Thorin growled, grabbing her as he passed by. ‘Get out of here! NOW!’ Oh yeah, let’s pretend she was the vulnerable component of the group. Enya just narrowed her eyes and folded her arms, grateful that her king was alive, but fuming over the fact he no doubt did some really stupid and/or risky things without her. Thorin caught her gaze and glared at her, but she didn’t give in. His emerald orbs, usually full of emotion and giving her a glimpse of his thoughts, seemed more cold and distant. In fact, there was a dullness in them that she hadn’t seen earlier and it made her feel quite uncomfortable. She shook off the shiver that shot through her spine and finally blinked. When she caught his gaze again, Thorin slowly exhaled and it almost looked as he came back to himself. ‘The plan is not going to work.’ Dwalin said, turning to the both of them. ‘These furnaces are stone cold.’ ‘He’s right.’ Balin agreed as he stepped forward. ‘There’s no fire hot enough to set them ablaze.’

A low groan escaped her lips and Enya sighed. What? Had these stupid dwarves learn nothing during this trip?! What was the whole point of her tagging along on the journey if they weren’t going to profit from her powers? ‘Have we not?’ she quipped and paced towards the nearest furnace. ‘Let’s see what I can do for you, gentlemen.’ She ignored the echoes in the distance getting louder and stretched out her hands. If they wanted a great fire, they could get it. An explosion of flames shot from her palms, the heat radiating against her face. The fire engulfed the first furnace and she smiled when it brought to life with a loud rumble.

One down. Only three to go.

But there was no time. The sound of stone crumbling into dust made all of them look between the pillars and they saw Smaug climbing from the pit, his claws crushing the walls. The fire drake crawled over the edge and halted before the pillars. The latticework was huge, but far too narrow to fit a dragon. Enya turned on her heels, locking eyes with the fire drake. Smaug opened his mouth, ready to pour his flames over them. In the depths of his throat she could see the fire boiling, fuming, ready to be unleashed. But she was ready for it too. Enya shifted her legs further apart to steady her position as her hands reached out to block every single flame that would come from those enormous jaws. She refused to break eye contact and watched as the dragon inhaled. ‘TAKE COVER, GO!’ Thorin shouted to the rest of the company and they made their way towards the pillars to protect themselves from a fiery death. Enya controlled her breathing, braced herself and-

Next thing she knew, she was knocked off her feet by something sturdy and heavy. ‘I tried to keep you safe!’ Thorin hissed, pushing her against the floor as the flames blazed just above them. ‘Please just for one time LISTEN to me!’ ‘No, YOU LISTEN!’ she bit back as she forcefully rolled on top of him and kept him pinned down. ‘He can’t beat me at my own game, Thorin. His flames won’t hurt me.’ ‘I won’t take that risk!’ Thorin raged. ‘Stick to the plan.’ ‘Oh, you mean the plan you forgot to mention to me?!’ She spat. ‘The plan you were going to execute without me? Or do you mean your plan to have me fucking WAIT in an abandoned and not to mention SECRET corridor and pray someone will stay alive to GET me OUT?!’ Thorin closed his eyes and she knew she really was trying his patience. Enya heaved a sigh. Maybe this exact moment wasn’t the best place for a hot-headed fight.

Besides, with a dragon and fire witch in the same area, there was already enough heat present to blow up the entire mountain.

‘What do you want me to do?’ she inquired softly. ‘Distract him.’ Thorin murmured in her ear. ‘And don’t-’ They both gasped as another wave of heat (or in Enya’s case, a lukewarm breeze) blazed right over them, the pressure coming of it pushing her firmly against him. She heard everyone in the company yell from the heat and pain that was poured over them. Thorin’s hand traveled up to caress her cheek, his roughened thumb trailing over her jawline. His eyes glistened with deep passion. How could he have looked so empty to her just moments before? Her own mind must have deceived her, because right now the dwarf that lay beneath her, loved her more than he loved life itself. ‘Don’t get roasted.’ He ordered gently. Enya shrugged and a small smile appeared on her lips. ‘Not happening, and I expect the same from you. If you let him get you, I’ll kill you.’ Thorin shook his head. ‘I think you’ll find that very difficult, uzfakuh’ ‘I mean it.’ She told him. ‘Now go.’

They parted ways rather quickly to prevent another attack. Thorin started shouting orders and Enya she stepped through the iron latticework. Smaug had his eyes on her and his foul breath hissed in her ears, but she didn’t bother to directly look at him she strutted towards the middle of the passage. If the fire drake could smell her fear, any of it, she would end up as dinner. The ground shook as the dragon followed her on foot, his claws destroying the surface. Enya made her way to the other half of the hallway. She exhaled slowly and tried to control her trembling body. Then she finally turned on her heels and faced her opponent.

He was a lot closer to her than she would like him to be, his school bus sized head was scarcely ten meters away from the spot where she stood. Smaug had a long snout, pointed nostrils and his jaws consisted of rows of deadly, sharp teeth. The gleaming golden eyes that she had faced just minutes ago, were curiously watching her every move. The rest of his body was huge and she suspected he measured at least sixty meters from head to tail. This fire-drake was clearly designed for destruction, his hide consisting of vibrant reddish golden scales that seemed impregnable and pointed spikes running along his head down to his spine. The pointed and sharp claws were enormous, ready to slice any creature that was stupid enough to cross its path open. The wings did remind Enya a bit of batwings, but then far more deadly of course.

But although Smaug was indeed huge and terrifying, he was definitely nothing compared to Shissa the powerful, the great fire-drake that her grandfather had faced. Shissa certainly had been ten times bigger than the dragon that now stood before her. Also Smaug didn’t possess the sass and badass attitude of his ancestor. Oh yes, he was evil and angry, but that was just that. No more layers.

‘Oh. Didn’t see you there.’ She said, making sure she sounded bored as hell. ‘So you’re the one they call Smaug the… terrible, is it?’ ‘Who is asking?’ the fire-drake rumbled while sitting up straight to show her himself in all his grand mightiness. His voice was low and the purring undertone he used was clearly designed to feign kindness. Nevertheless the hairs in Enya’s neck prickled, her whole body was on edge. She couldn’t help but feel like a deer being pounced by a great tiger. One wrong move and she was done for it.

But whatever she did, she couldn’t let him show her fear.

‘An equal.’ She spoke curtly. ‘Equal?!’ Smaug snorted, visibly amused by her arrogance. ‘That surely sounds interesting. Tell me, who is so bold to assume she can exceed the might of me?!’ ‘Enya Blueheart.’ She replied. The dragon’s face twisted in a revolting grin. ‘Well, my my. One of the Blueheart family. I’ve thought you all were extinct, but yet here you are. I’ve eaten a lot of species, but I’ve never had the chance to taste a princess.’ He stretched his neck, smelling her from close by. ‘Yes, a dwarvenprincess... But what’s that other rather strange odor you seem to emit?’ Enya wrinkled her nose when the foul smell of at least a thousand years of bacteria buildup burned through her nostrils. She waved her hand in disgust. ‘I might tell you, but only if you close that foul muzzle of yours.’ ‘For a so-called princess you’re not very polite, are you?’ he hissed. Enya grinned and curtseyed quickly . ‘What can I say, I wasn’t brought up to be one. Excuse me for my manners, oh Smaug the stupendous.’ The fire-drake narrowed his eyes, not believing her shallow civility. ‘Flattery won’t save your life.’ He told her. ‘But I must say I’m rather curious about your origins, so speak.’ ‘I come from a land without magic, or dragons.’ She gave in. ‘A place where the race of humans exclusively survives.’ ‘The human race?’ Smaug said. ‘But how does a princess of the fire beards end up there?’

‘Because your ancestors drove us to earth, you hateful piece of filth!’ she thought. But instead, she feigned a smile and shrugged, not willing to provide him with the answer he undoubtingly wanted to hear. ‘Recently I came back to middle earth.’ ‘So you claim to have come from a land without magic.’ The fire-drake summarized, his eyes fixating on her neck. ‘But yet you carry something so valuable. Something that comes from the deepest pits of Nogrod.’ Enya’s hand closed around her locket. ‘What about it?’ ‘You don’t know?’ Smaug taunted her. ‘Your family never told you of the locket of the equitem?’ She straightened her back. There was no way in hell Smaug would just casually provide her with valuable information. She knew he was just messing with her, trying to catch her off guard and hurt her, but somewhere in her brain the name sounded awfully familiar. ‘Equitem.’ she repeated carefully. ‘Of course I know of it.’ ‘Oh yes.’ The fire-drake mocked, closing his eyes and his snout curved into a mean smirk. Enya gritted her teeth, not liking the way this conversation was going. That monster was enjoying this far too much. ‘So what does it do, Enya Blueheart? Did they tell you that?’ ‘What of it? Why should I enlighten you, of all creatures, on this subject?’ she bit back. ‘Do you want it for yourself? Is that it?’ ‘Let me give you an hint. It’s much more useful once it’s opened up.’ Smaug nagged, ignoring all her questions. ‘Inside is something far more preciousss…’ ‘It can’t be opened.’ She hissed. ‘And even if it could, I would rather die than let you have it.’ ‘Oh see, but that’s where you are wrong…’ Smaug told her while creeping closer to her and Enya involuntarily took a step back. ‘All you need, Enya Blueheart, is a little… fire.’

Everything happened so fast. Smaug lunged at her, opening his big mouth and unleashing his fiery breath on her. She held out her hands to protect herself and the raging fire came to an halt just inches before her. Like she was holding up this invisible wall.

All that energy had to go somewhere. The fire seemed to bounce back to its creator, raging against Smaug. The pressure of the flames must have been huge, since Enya saw the dragon being pushed a few feet backwards. The great fire-drake growled angrily. ‘You can’t beat me at my own game, honey.’ She scoffed. ‘So it seems.’ Smaug replied, his eyes still fixed on her locket. ‘But so can’t you…’

‘ENYA!’ Thorin yelled at her from the forges. ‘NOW!’

That was her sign. Enya ducked out of the way as Smaug lunged at her and she jumped between his front paws, ran under him and exited at his hind legs, nearly escaping a smack from his tail. She blindly shot a stream of water backwards and a enraged growl told her she had hit her mark. Once she passed the latticework again and made it into the forges, she took one moment to catch her breath. Thorin, Dwalin and Nori were on the opposite of the room, beneath the stone dwarven warriors that kept an eye over the furnaces. Thorin was instructing Bilbo to pull a lever on a mount several meters away. She saw Bombur hanging from a chain, working the bellows that were heating the lit furnaces. Balin, Dori and Ori were on her left, busying themselves with stacking pottery carefully into a pile.

‘He’s coming!’ she warned, but her yell was being cut off by a loud thump behind her. Smaug was battering his head against the latticework. Although it was a strong structure, it hadn’t been made to hold against a dragon. The iron pillars already started to bend inwards. They all watched in horror as the pillars gave in to Smaug’s magnificent strength, the latticework finally splitting open. With his claws the fire-drake pushed the battered ironwork out of his way and barged inside. For a fleeting moment, the monster stopped in his tracks to analyze his surroundings, but then his eyes fell on Bilbo. The dragon hissed and moved forward, fixed on the poor halfling that stood trembling on the mount, his hands reaching for the lever. But then from the corner of his eyes, Smaug detected Thorin. With a loud growl he went for the dwarf king instead.

‘NOW!’ Thorin shouted and Bilbo jumped to pull the said lever. The stone dwarven warriors above them opened their mouths and a tsunami of water poured over the dragon, taking him by surprise. He gurgled and spluttered as he was consumed by the vast amount of water, trying to hold his ground but then crawling slowly backwards. The room was covered in steam as the cold water reacted to the boiling heat in Smaug’s stomach.

Enya shot a glance at Thorin, who was anxiously checking the furnaces. He was trying to melt something, but for what? She looked up when jets of water set the watermill into motion, which allowed the two rope conveyer belts to start operating. Some of the buckets hanging above them were still full of ores and precious stones.

Smaug hissed and charged Thorin again, but stopped when a bomb (and another) was smashed against his snout. Dori cheered when he hit the intended mark again, but although the effort was valiant, it didn’t really seem to damage their opponent. Smaug merely flapped his wings angrily and shot a wave of fire towards them. Enya jumped in the way and with a mere flick from her hands, the fire lashed backwards. She then blew a storm of snow and ice into the dragon’s direction, containing sharp icicles that almost hit him in the eyes. The fire-drake snarled and used his wings to cover himself. Above them, Gloin emerged from one of the buckets on the conveyer belt (so that’s where he had been!) and cut the cord of the belt under him. Various buckets loaded with heavy stones came crashing down on Smaug’s neck. The creature cried out, now more angry than ever, and he started bustling around to free himself.

Thorin suddenly moved quickly towards one of the furnaces and pulled on a chain. Melted gold dripped from the furnaces into the troughs in the ground. ‘Lead him into the gallery of the kings!’ Thorin bellowed while grabbing a wheelbarrow and running towards a main trough. He then jumped into the gold, using the wheelbarrow as a raft. Smaug managed to free himself and went into a frenzy. He tried to follow Thorin and stomped over a small entrance at the base of the mount where all the troughs of gold joined and were lead from the room. But Thorin had already disappeared. Smaug roared after missing his mark and went after the poor halfling who was still standing on the very same mount. ‘Bilbo!’ Enya yelled while running towards him. ‘JUMP! NOW!’ But the halfling was trembling as a leaf and hesitated for far too long. Enya felt obliged to help him out. A sudden blow tripped him over the edge, but luckily he was caught midair by an icy slope that brought him towards the end of the forges. Enya ran after him and grabbed him by his coat. Together they fled through the exit, not even caring if it lead to where they should be.

Turned out it did. They ran straight into another hallway, this one even more massive than the last. It was adorned with banners, each single one hundreds of meters tall. ‘Is this-’ Bilbo panted, but he was cut off by an explosion on the wall above them, accompanied by the very fire-drake they tried to outrun. Enya pushed the hobbit forward and redirected the flying rocks as best as she could. Once she discovered that a banner was knocked off the wall, she couldn’t prevent Bilbo being caught under it.

Luckily it was just some heavy cloth.

Smaug leapt onto the floor at a crossroad in the middle of the hallway, the true entrance of the lonely mountain to his right. He roared angrily. ‘You think you can deceive me, barrel-rider?’ he snapped. ‘Or you, nasty little Blueheart princess?!’ Enya stilled and saw the cloth near the dragon move, but the latter was too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice. ‘You two have come from Laketown!’ Smaug established. ‘This is some wicked scheme between those filthy dwarves and miserable fishermen! Those fools with their longbows and… black arrows!’ He turned to the entrance of the hall. ‘Maybe I should pay them a visit.’ Enya shot forward and Bilbo crawled from his hiding place, simultaneously screaming: ‘NO!’ ‘It isn’t their fault!’ the hobbit pleaded. ‘You cannot go to Laketown!’ ‘Ah.’ The dragon grinned and turned around. ‘So you care for them? Good! Then you can watch them die.’ He spread his wings and-

Everything happened so fast that Enya couldn’t recall why she came up with this, but there she was, strangling an immense dragon, with a whip. It was made out of soil, which made it soft and unyielding at the same time. It was a bold move, mad even, but to her astonishment the earth withheld the powerful creature from taking off. Her fingers dug into the handle, the lash bending and stretching easily as she brought the great serpent down. Enya’s heart was pounding in her chest and she was high from all the adrenaline, but she never felt so much more alive.

Ha, who would ever have thought that soil was actually an asset during combat?!

‘I don’t think so.’ She hissed while giving the lash a sharp jerk. ‘We have some unfinished business.’ The fire-drake’s eyes were glittering with anger as he neared the place where she stood. The whip was still wrung tightly around his neck and although Enya couldn’t see any markings yet, she knew even a dragon would have to feel very uncomfortable. ‘Very well then.’ Smaug spoke. ‘You can die first.’ ‘Another empty threat?’ Enya inquired as she saw Bilbo fleeing from the hall towards the balcony on her right. The fire-drake had seen it too and opened his mouth, flames already sweltering inside his throat. ‘Really?’ Enya snapped. ‘Pick someone your own size, you bloody coward!’ The dragon snarled.

A wave of fire met a storm of snow and ice, both elements roaring violently as they clashed. Icicles flew through the air but failed to reach their mark as the fire-drake crushed them with his claws. He then lunged forward. His mouth was wide open, ready to devour anything in his path. Enya snapped her fingers and a gush of wind whirled around the room, flying straight into the dragon’s jaws. Her hands flicked gracefully and with a soft thump, what previously been air changed into its true form.

The eyes of the dragon almost jumped from their caskets once he realized what she had done. He roared aggressively and with a deafening cough he spat a pile of dirt into the hall. Enya quickly jumped behind a row of pillars on her left to evade the tornado of wind and soil. She crept along the balcony towards the junction and bit her lip in an attempt not to laugh. Once she got there, she glanced over the room and weighed her chances. Smaug was on her right, still spitting out dirt while the smoke was fuming from his nostrils. The passage on her left was, compared to the gallery, not very long and far from finished. An enormous statue of what looked like a warrior stood at the end, the vast stone masonry still evidently under construction as it was held together by wooden scaffolding.

Her heart skipped a beat. On the shoulder of the figure stood a dwarf, holding himself upright with a chain.

Thorin.

But what on earth was he doing there? Where was the rest of the company? Enya quickly crossed the passage to get to the other side of the gallery. She felt Thorin’s eyes prickling on her back, but she refused to make eye contact. This was her fight and she wanted him to wait with whatever his plan was until the last minute. She held out her hand and blew a gush of wind his way. The whisper floated through the void, delivering her message to her One.

‘Stay put. I got this.’

‘You dirty little witch!’ Smaug boomed, but the frog in his throat made his voice go up and down in an unbelievable funny manner. Enya giggled and the dragon growled furiously. ‘Where are you?! You have no honor.’ He hissed. ‘I’ll make you suffer.’ ‘And you, my lad, just ate dirt.’ Enya told him, reappearing behind him. She smirked when the dragon turned, but then barked again. ‘Need cough syrup?’ she asked.

Fire met fire. An explosion thundered through the room, the blazing heat scorched past her body and the pressure of the two forces coming together almost swept her off her feet. Enya gritted her teeth and she pushed the flames forward, entrapping the dragon in a fiery pit. But the fire-drake merely laughed devilishly, the flames not hurting him. ‘You can fight me all you want, little witch.’ He belittled her. ‘But you’ll never kill me. You don’t have the strength.’

Enya exhaled slowly and the flames around the dragon disappeared. Her hands arched a little and with that, a violent wind howled through the hall. The wind grew louder, stronger and the fire-drake spread his claws to steady his position, but he couldn’t help but slip away.

‘Oh honey, but that’s where you’re wrong.’ Enya bellowed above the sound. ‘See, my ancestors fought off far greater fire drakes than you.’ She took a step towards him. ‘And you, my friend, you have a serious superiority complex.’

Maybe Smaug didn’t really know what that meant or maybe he did, because he flapped his wings aggressively, the movement messing up Enya’s hurricane. Enya clenched her jaw and eyed the dragon while calculating her next move. Her palms filled with flames.

Smaug snorted. ‘So tell me, Enya Blueheart.’ He rumbled. ‘The longer I am in your presence, the more intrigued I become. You possess a bit of power, but yet you’re here, biting off more than you can chew.’

The only sound in the hall was the crackling of fire.

‘What’s in it for you?’ Smaug taunted, spurred on by her silence. ‘What did Oakenshield promise you?’ Enya gritted her teeth. It was obvious the dragon tried to provoke her again and whatever she would say, it wasn’t worth it. ‘Did he offer you a share of the treasure?’ the fire-drake needled. Ugh, she couldn’t help herself. ‘I’m not as superficial as you, thank you very much.’ she finally snapped. ‘Oh… then it must be love that has driven you on this foolish quest!’ the dragon nagged while moving closer to her again. ‘You think he loves you.’ Enya scoffed. ‘Oh and I suppose you’re the one who can tell me everything there’s to know about love, you despicable serpent?’ ‘Love is for the weak, my dear princess.’ Smaug purred, lowering his head to meet her face to face. ‘And the only thing Oakenshield’s in love with, is the King’s jewel.’

Her hands acted out before she registered the meaning of the vile words spoken to her. A flood of water flew into the dragon’s snout and he shot up with a disgusted growl. Enya’s fingers twirled and a solid rope wound itself several times along the fire-drake’s legs and claws. Smaug hissed and tried to break free, but every time he managed to cut one cord, another one grew back. ‘Maybe you should stop talking and start paying attention.’ Enya told the dragon. He was sitting up straight, like a circus lion, and glaring at her.

Pff. If looks could kill…

She crouched down and touched the floor with her hands. Little frost flowers appeared and Enya watched as they formed a trail towards her opponent. The ice got thicker as it proceeded. Cracking sounds filled the air as the snow crystals grew over the dragon’s front claws. ‘Beautiful. But worthless.’ Smaug scolded with a revolting grin, while watching the ice. ‘Your efforts are fruitless, little princess.’ ‘Oh honey, everyone has got a weak spot.’ Enya retorted. ‘And I’ll find yours in no time, no worries.’ ‘Do you really think you can stand a chance against the lure of the Arkenstone?’ the fire-drake continued, ignoring her remarks. ‘Trust me, you’re nothing compared to the King’s Jewel…’

‘NO! ENYA!’

Thorin’s call made the grip of the rope falter and the ice retreat an inch. And in that fleeting moment, that second she lost her focus, the dragon ripped himself free and lunged at her.

‘Eat shit, you fucking narcissist!’ Enya yelled while jumping aside to evade his mouth. Smaug roared in anger and another wave of fire blasted through the room. Enya braced herself, her fingers bending into claws as she blocked the fire with an icy wall. The two elements sizzled as they met and blazing steam filled up the gallery, masking the fire-drake from her view. Enya waved her hands and the fog floated another way, but it already was too late.

She didn’t see the tail coming.

‘My dear Enya, please wake up.’ A soft voice spoke. Her eyelids fluttered, the voice slowly pulling her from her slumber. A dark blue sky filled with greyish clouds came into vision. There was roaring in the distance. Humans were screaming, followed by the deafening sound of wood, bones and stone being crushed into nothing. A thick smell of smoke and fire penetrated her nostrils. For a moment Enya felt like she was floating in the air and although she was acknowledging the incentives that were invading her senses, she didn’t really feel a part of her surroundings.

Then a kind and familiar face came into view. Chestnut brown locks. Piercing blue eyes, just like hers. A hand held out in front of her.

‘Oh my god! Grandpa!’ she cried out while scrambling herself together. ‘How is this possible…?’ she looked around, eyeing the fire and devastation that was going on down below. She blinked. She appeared to be outside the mountain at the old overlook, looking down at the chaos. She hesitated before speaking the words she dreaded to ask.

‘Am I dead?’

Emrak gently pulled her up on her feet. ‘No, you’re not. You’re just unconscious. Bilbo will be able to wake your body up in a few minutes.’ ‘Again?!’ Enya grumbled while massaging her temples. ‘That happens a lot to me lately.’ Her grandfather shrugged. ‘Well, it’s the hazard that comes with the job. Things will try to hurt you and if you’re not careful enough, bad things will follow.’ He heaved a sigh and glanced down below, where the dragon Smaug was wreaking havoc to Laketown and its poor inhabitants. ‘Oh, fuck me!’ Enya cursed. ‘I’m so stupid! I didn’t see his tail coming at me!’ ‘Fighting a dragon is no easy task, even a tiny exemplar like him.’ Emrak mused. ‘I personally had a hard time keeping track of the whereabouts of all those limbs.’ ‘Oh my god, I failed!’ She fretted. ‘I let him get to me and now I failed all of you. People will die because of my stupidity!’ ‘They would have died already if it wasn’t for you, little one.’ Her grandfather replied while putting an arm around his granddaughter. ‘We’re no gods. All we can do is our best to protect our people.’ Enya didn’t reply, but just stood there, momentarily enjoying the presence of her long gone grandfather.

‘Thorin saved you by distracting the fire-drake.’ Emrak filled her in. ‘Then Bilbo ran from his hiding place to heave you up to the balcony and keep you hidden.’ Her heart swelled for her One and her favorite hobbit. ‘They’re both alive and well.’ Her grandfather continued. ‘But now it’s your turn to finish what you started.’ ‘How?’ Enya exasperated. ‘I tried fire, but he’s immune to that. My water and ice are definitely annoying the life out of him, but not enough to kill him instantly. What am I supposed to do? Blow him into a ravine? He was wings! Throw dirt at him? Strangle him again? He doesn’t care!’ Emrak smirked. ‘Then it’s rather obvious, isn’t it?’ ‘We’ll go for the dirt then.’ Enya sighed and bit her lip. ‘I feel like I’m short-sighted, that I’m not doing enough to-’

She froze in her tracks when she heard a mighty rumbling in the distance.

‘No, I can’t.’ she mumbled. ‘You were so fucking powerful and even you died, how could I possibly survive?’ ‘Yes, I was powerful.’ Emrak agreed. But so are you, and you’re nothing like me. You’re strong, kindhearted, witty and gentle. You know your weaknesses and you’re not afraid to speak about the things that haunt you. You’re finally able to see how it feels to be loved, truly and wholly.’ ‘But how does that make me-’ ‘You’re getting in sync with who you are, my granddaughter.’ Emrak said, beaming. ‘And we’re so proud of you. Your grandmother and I are delighted that we’re able to guide you on your path. We’re so honored to see you grow into the fire witch you’re meant to be.’ ‘But…’ Enya whispered. ‘I’m…’ Emrak smiled, tears welling in his eyes. ‘You’re doing perfectly fine, Enya. You’ve always done what’s right. You won’t make the same mistake as I did. Now, MY only regret is that I wasn’t alive long enough to see your mother Ailva and after her, you, growing up.’ The tears were rolling down her cheeks and Enya pulled her grandfather in a hug. ‘I’m so sorry you couldn’t save Nogrod.’ She whispered. ‘Nogrod was beyond repair.’ Emrak replied. ‘But Erebor isn’t. Destroy the dragon and protect your destiny. Then head for Nogrod and take the locket of Equitem with you.’ ‘It’s always with me.’ Enya said. Emrak grinned. ‘Good. And so are we. If you ever doubt yourself again, look inside.’ He pointed at the locket on her chest.

Enya had hundreds of questions, no a thousand even, but before she could open her mouth her grandfather was gone.

And she knew what to do…

Thank you so much for reading my humble story. Feedback is always welcome. Did you love Enya? Go to Enya’s story or check out my Masterlist.

#thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x you #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield x enya blueheart #thorin x enya #enya's unexpected journey #love and drama #chapter 22 #whew that was a ride #xxbyimm

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surrounded-by-superheroes · 6 years

Text

Queen Ch. 5

Click here for chapter four!

Summary; A shape-shifting girl with a bad past is recruited by Nick Fury into the Avengers. It’s there that she finally starts learning to let people in again and she’s especially intrigued by a blond haired and blue eyed Captain America. Will she learn to let him in? Will her past actually stay in the past?

Author’s Note; I’m so happy to be updating again, it’s like breathing after being underwater for a long time. Hope you all enjoy it! Thanks for all the feedback for this, I love you sweeties. Much love, your author.

Warnings; Language, mentions of a dark past

Words; 3,750

Chapter Five

That’s Spangled Alright

It doesn’t take us long to get to the district that’s full of shops. Tony takes my hand in his the minute we’re out of the car and begins dragging me from store to store. He buys me shirts, shorts, pants, scarves, gloves, shoes, even some heels to which I protested greatly. We’re on an escalator on the way to another store and I’m trying to get Tony to stop, or at the very least slow down. He’s making me feel guilty by buying all of these things for me when I have nothing to give him in return.

“Tony, this is amazing and I’m thankful, I truly am, but I don’t need all of this. I certainly don’t need anything more! You won’t even tell me where we’re going now!” I protest to which Tony grins down at me.

“You don’t have everything you need yet. You need something to wear for your date.” Tony chides and earns an eye roll from me.

“You already bought me that old-fashioned dress, Tony. Three, actually! That’s what I’m wearing on my date. Have you forgotten everything you’ve bought me already, gramps?” I remind him, then tease him a bit. He gives me a half smile then pulls me along to the right of the escalator. Bright pink catches my eye and I immediately start to drag my feet. “No, no, no. Absolutely not. Tony Stark!” I yell at him and finally plant my feet, making him come to a crashing halt. He turns towards me with a mischievous smile and shrugs.

“First, are you telling me that you have more than enough underwear and bras?” Tony inquires. I feel myself blush scarlet, a rare occurrence, but shake my head.

“No, but I’m more than capable of shopping for those by myself. You don’t-” Tony cuts me off as I endeavor to implore him not to do this.

“Come on, Queen. This isn’t a big deal. We’ll get you what you need, and I’ll even help you pick out something for your date tomorrow. Look, I even invited your favorite.” Tony adds with a wink. I look to where he’s pointing and see Natasha standing there with a couple things draped over her arm. Tentatively, I wave back. Tony starts walking again and reluctantly, I let him drag me over.

“This is so weird. Are you realizing that? Do you know how weird you are?” I ramble on to diffuse the tension in my chest, but Tony doesn’t seem to be fazed a bit. Not even by the occasional girl that comes along to stare and giggle at him. I hear Nat snickering behind me, but she doesn’t say anything. I’m too nervous to look around so I just stand there as Tony shoves random things in my arms. After I can hardly see over the pile, Tony ushers me to the dressing rooms and sits down just outside the door.

“Show us the ones that you like and we’ll tell you if they’re any good.” Nat says just outside the door and I lean my forehead against the wall in frustration.

“Really? You really want me to showcase this stuff? To you and Tony?” I ask quietly and hear Tony chuckle from the other side of the door.

“Yes, Queen.” Tony replies simply. I start to change clothes, not really paying attention to what I’m putting on, but continue to protest.

“Lord Melbourne, this may not be how my body actually looks, but I’m still relatively self-conscious.” I recall the name of Queen Victoria’s advisor and use it as a nickname for Tony. Finally, I’ve finished changing and I look in the mirror. “Tony, you are so full of shit.” I open the door and stand in front of him with my hands on my hips. Tony bursts out laughing and I can’t keep my poker face up. I smile and laugh lightly too. Nat even cracks a smile and raises her hand to hide it. “This is a joke, right?” I gesture to what I’m wearing and Tony falls over on his side laughing. I put my hands back on my bare hips and shake my head. I’m wearing an all-American outfit for sure. A strapless, fitted bustier is on my top half, but leaves the skin from my belly button down to my bottoms bare. Half of it is covered in navy blue with white stars while the other half is covered in red and white stripes. The cheeky bottoms are the same and barely cover my ass. Nat clears her throat and I look at her. She looks like she’s trying to compose herself again.

“I think Cap would love that.” She says in a teasing tone. I shake my head at both of them. Tony’s still on the ground when I go back into the dressing room. I’m about to shut the door when I hear Tony protest.

“Hold on, hold on.” He says. I stick my head out the door again and wait for him to tell me whatever he wants. “If you aren’t you, then none of this stuff is going to fit you.” My eyes narrow at him.

“I don’t understand.” I tell him and Natasha takes over.

“If you and Cap ever have sex, then you should look like you. He’d want you to look like you.” She explains and I nod once, understanding.

“So, even if you don’t change your face, you could change your body so that you fit the stuff.” Tony suggests. I stare at his shoes and consider what he said.

“Agreed.” Natasha speaks up behind him. I glance at her and nod.

“Fine.” I flick my eyes up to meet Tony’s face once again. “But I’m not wearing this stupid outfit.” I tell him and he cracks a smile before I shut the door in his face. I hear him shuffle away and sit on the floor once again. I strip and toss the stuff out the door at Tony to hang. Judging by his grunts, I think I hit him in the face at least once. Every once and a while I hear Nat snigger, further affirming my suspicions. I stare into the mirror at my naked body and take a breath before shifting to my original body. I increase in height just a tad, I never really change my height anyways. My skin gets paler, my thigh gap disappears, my shoulders get a bit broader, my hips get wider, and my breasts go from a B cup to a C. I even let my hair change to its original chocolate brown and give in to its natural tendency to curl. I look in the mirror and press my lips together to prevent myself from smiling. This is more me than I’ve been in a long time. I leave my face disguised though. I’m not quite ready for that yet. Since Tony didn’t know what size I was I have many of multiple sizes, so I only hang up the ones that are my size, so I know what to try on. The next few I try on are simple. Just cute lacy bras and underwear that I don’t feel the need to show Tony, but when I hear him growing restless I decide to throw him a bone. I choose a blueish silver bustier with black lace and matching underwear, it even has garters along with garter straps. I put it on and peek my head out of the dressing room at Tony. He immediately perks up and his gaze goes to my hair. He grins.

“Is that your real hair?” He points and asks. Curls fall over my shoulder as I nod. Natasha nods slowly as she looks at me. She’s probably one of the rare people who also understand what it’s like to constantly change how you look.

“This is all me, okay? Except for my face. So, no making fun or pointing out stupid stuff. Deal?” I request. Tony nods with soft eyes and a happy smile. I wonder if today is just as much for him than for me. I open the door all the way and resist crossing my arms in front of me. Instead, I hold my arms out a bit and turn in a circle, thanking whoever made this for not making it sheer. When I face Tony and Nat again I shrug. “So, thoughts?” He’s smiling ear to ear, so I take that as a compliment. “Good? Thumbs up? Please say something so I don’t keep feeling this awkward.” I plead and he laughs while Nat smiles.

“You look great, Queen. You’d blow anyone away in that. Especially since it’s the real you. Love the hair, by the way.” Tony compliments me multiple times, bringing the smallest tint of pink to my cheeks.

“Since I don’t think Cap has seen any lingerie in the recent decades, I think he’ll really appreciate any outfit you have on.” Natasha teases, then her face gets more serious. “But I think it’s the person underneath that really matters.” I meet her eyes for a moment and nod. I understand what she’s saying. She’s telling me to be myself, and to not hurt one of her boys.

“Thanks, Tony. Thanks, Nat. I have a few more, but this is the only one I’m going to show you.” Tony pouts but I hold out a hand. “This was more fun than I thought, I admit it, but I think I can make it from here on out. I’ll show you the ones I like afterwards.” I leave no room for argument and shut the door. I wait for a moment in case Tony starts to argue, but I only hear him sigh in acceptance. A slight slapping sound makes me think that Nat hit his shoulder, but I leave them to argue for themselves. I choose at least a dozen lace and silk bras with matching underwear, but only choose five sets of fancy lingerie, including the set I showed Tony and Nat. I walk out, finally done, and Tony jumps up to see what else I chose. Natasha is more content to just walk by me. After Tony approves heartily of everything I chose, we check out and somehow manage to fit even more bags into the little black car we drove here. Nat gets on a motorcycle she must have ridden here and leaves before us with a small wave. We follow right after. At last, we head back to the tower. Tony even calls some of his robots down from the tower to carry all the bags up to my room. Still in Nat’s outfit, I head in with Tony’s ever-present arm around my shoulders. Tony seems to be attached to my hip because he comes up with me to my room to so-called, ‘help me unpack’. I rolled my eyes at that one, but allow him to tag along. I enjoy his company anyway. But, we’re both in for a surprise when we open the door to my room. “Steve?” I ask. His form is familiar, although he’s facing away from the door. He spins around and smiles at me, although I don’t miss how his gaze lands on Tony’s arm first.

“I’ll give you two some alone time.” Tony says loud enough for the both of us to hear. He gives me a quick kiss on my forehead, whispering, “Misbehave, Victoria.” I glare at him as he walks away, but he only laughs. “Later, my Queen!” He says dramatically, making me roll my eyes. I look back at Steve and smile, shutting the door behind me as I enter my room. The robots have left all my bags in front of my dresser, and of course, the bag that is front and center is Victoria’s Secret.

“Hey.” I say quietly, remembering the events earlier today. I assume he’s here wondering why I conceded the fight. I walk forward so that we’re only a few feet apart.

“Hi. I see you and Stark did a bit of shopping?” Steve notices and gestures with his head to all the bags, thankfully, he doesn’t look at them. I nod. I see Steve take note of my hair and my different figure, although he’s a gentleman so he doesn’t comment on it.

“Yeah. I needed some actual clothes. I can’t just keep borrowing from Natasha all the time.” I point to her suit that I’m still wearing. I walk over to the bags and block the bright pink and red bag from his sight. “Would you mind, actually?” I ask and gesture with my finger for him to turn around. He watches my finger, but glances back at my face, confused. The corner of my mouth twitches as I fight a smile and walk over to him. I set my hands lightly on his shoulders as he stares at me, startled. Gently, I move him so that he’s facing the other way. “Now, don’t turn around.” I tell him and walk behind him, unzipping the suit as I go. I watch Steve and have to press my lips together to stop my laugh. His shoulders immediately tense when he hears the zipper to the suit. I shake my head at him. What a sweetheart. “I figure you’re here because of what happened earlier today?” I ask as I step out of the suit and boots and reach into the Victoria’s Secret bag for a pair of bra and underwear. Grabbing a white, lace pair, I slip them on as Steve struggles to talk to me.

“I, uh, yeah,” He clears his throat, “I wanted to check if you were alright. You seemed a bit off when you left.” Steve says, his voice a bit nervous. I rifle through some of the other bags and grab some dark jeans and a white t-shirt. Slipping them on, I respond.

“Yeah, I just-” Tony’s voice comes back to me from earlier, telling me I have to tell Cap. I look at Cap’s fidgeting figure and purse my lips. “Some old memories came up and I needed some time alone to handle it.” I do my best to be honest. Finally, I’m finished changing. I go over to Steve and lay a hand on his shoulder, telling him it’s okay to turn around. He jumps a bit at my hand and I laugh. “Steve, I’m done.” I go around in front of him so he sees that it’s safe. He breathes a sigh of relief and I find myself giggling at him. I sit down on the chest at the end of the bed and pat the spot next to me so he knows he can sit down. Hesitantly, he sits next to me and I turn to face him.

“Old memories, huh? I know a thing or two about those. Do you want to talk about it?” He asks kindly, blue eyes shining. I curl and uncurl my toes nervously. This isn’t like it is with Tony. Looking into his eyes, the way my heart feels, the way my stomach feels, it seems to matter more. I take a deep breath and decide to tell him, at least the basics. He should know who he’s going out with tomorrow anyway. If he still wants to go after hearing this.

“Uh…sure. From the age of five until I was eighteen, I was kept in a sort of facility. The people there made me this way, they gave me the abilities I have, but don’t get the wrong idea. They were not kind people.” I explain quietly. “The memory that came up today was me in a cage, people standing just outside, waiting and watching.” Realization dawns on his face. I know he remembers how bothered I was when I saw the others watching us. He opens his mouth to speak but I hold up a hand to stop him. “I’m not finished.” I tell him and he quiets. “I was kept in a glass cage a lot of the time. The whole thing made out of two-way mirrors so they could see me and I couldn’t see them. But I could feel their eyes.” I shiver slightly. “Then, there was the metal cage. The only reason I was put in that cage was to fight in human form, then kill…whoever I had fought.” I pause, waiting for it to sink in for Steve. His face hardens as he looks at me.

“You killed them?” He repeats, even his voice is hard. I nod slowly.

“Yes. After each fight, I would be ordered to end their life and I would do so.” I continue, almost flinching at my own words. “Before you ask, I don’t know how many. I lost count over the years.” Steve stands and walks away from me. I sigh quietly, trying to keep my emotions under wraps. Of course, he wouldn’t just take in stride, Victoria. I scold myself. “I understand how…how upsetting this is for you-”

“Upsetting?” Steve exclaims and turns back around to face me. I shut my mouth and look up at his troubled face. “This makes me a little bit more than upset.” Steve huffs.

“You don’t think I hate myself for this?” I say in a hushed tone. “Every day, I wish that I had chosen death over murdering those people. Every day. But I was a kid and I-” I try to explain myself a little further, but Steve interrupts me.

“Wait. Chosen death?” Steve reiterates. I stare at his blue eyes, waiting for him to ask his question. “I don’t understand.” I take a deep breath and, for the second time that day, show my burns. I’ve seen Cap narrow his eyes at my slightly shiny fingers before, but when he sees my toes are the same he still doesn’t comment. What a tower of a gentleman. I slip off my left sock and hear Steve’s quiet gasp as he looks at the sole of my foot. He kneels in front of me to look closer, then looks up at me, at a loss for words.

“I didn’t want to kill those people, Steve. If I refused, if I asked any questions, they’d run electricity through the metal cage until I eventually complied.” I sniff and push the sadness down that’s rising in my chest. “I’m sorry, Steve.” I apologize and shut my eyes to stop the tears. After a few calming breaths, I open my eyes and look back into Steve’s without the danger of crying. The hardness that was present earlier has vanished, leaving nothing but the soft Steve I know. I slip my sock back on and put my foot back on the floor as silence washes over us both. Cap still kneels there, seemingly deep in thought. I look down at the floor between us and mutter, “I understand if you no longer want to go out tomorrow. I just put a lot on you.” I glance back up at him, but he’s still motionless. Suddenly, his hands are on either side of my face and he’s much closer than before.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything, I just…” He stutters a bit, looking for the right words. “I’m glad you’re here with all of us.” Steve whispers and I can see the honesty shining in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” He says, even quieter. I blink, surprise flooding me.

“Me too.” I whisper back, swallowing. I reach up and remove his hands from my face, instead just holding them in my lap. I shift my face into my real face, the one I was born with. The structure of my face changes first, becoming round instead of oval shaped. My lips change from being thin to being slightly uneven, my bottom lip thickening so it’s a bit bigger than my top lip. My nose shortens, converting to a button nose that turns up just a little at the tip. My eyebrows become less manicured and just have a soft arch to them. I change my eyes last. The shape changes to a downturned almond and the color shifts from the startling blue I favor, to green with light brown surrounding the pupil. Finally, a smattering of freckles dot my face and I hold my breath, waiting for Steve’s reaction. He watches me with awe and fascination, making me feel even better about my decision. “I think you’ve earned it, Steve.” I speak in my normal voice. Silvery, and slightly higher than the voice I chose for raven-hair. He smiles a bit.

“What about a name?” He asks, his eyebrows popping up in a cute way. I half smile and shake my head slightly.

“Victoria Elaine…Redhallow.” I hesitate before telling him my last name. I know what he can look up from that last name.

“Victoria Elaine Redhallow.” Steve repeats, but unlike Tony, he doesn’t say it in a whisper. He pronounces it. Like the beginning of a speech or announcement. The volume almost makes me jump. Steve smiles and nods. “That’s why Tony calls you Queen, because of Queen Victoria.” I chuckle and nod.

“Yes, that’s the nickname he has decided to call me.” I confirm. Steve stands and I release his hands, forgetting that I was even holding them. He sits down beside me once again and I turn to face him, crossing my legs beneath me.

“Victoria,” He grins a bit while saying it, “I would still very much like to take you out tomorrow. If you still want to go.” Steve tells me in his gentlemanly way. I smile and nod.

“Of course, I’d still like to go.” I say. He nods and walks towards the door. “Uh, wait, Steve. What should I wear?” I ask self-consciously.

“Oh. A dress would be fine.” He tells me and I’m suddenly very glad I asked. I never would have guessed to wear that. He opens the door after I nod, but pauses in the doorway. He turns sideways and looks back at me. “You’re uh, you’re really beautiful, by the way.” I smile brightly, genuinely, and happily at the compliment. No one has ever said that meaning me, the real me, is beautiful. No one. Steve nods and scratches the back of his neck as he leaves. Slowly, the door closes behind him, leaving me alone in my room.

Chapter Six found HERE.

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