#knighthood is a big deal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

underoossss · 1 year

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So This Is Love - S.H

pairing: Cinderella!steve harrington x f!reader

warnings: some angst at some point (also the gif has nothing to do with the story lol)

word count: 5k+

an: i had a dream where steve harrington was cinderella and i obviously had to write it down. i loved playing with the story and changing many things to fit steve’s background that we know from the series. i hope you enjoy this! Let me know💘

Masterlist

-----

Birdsong drifts into the bedroom through the open window and a cool spring breeze accompanies it. The telltale sign that it’s time for Steve to wake up and seize the day. The routine is simple, wake up and stretch, make the bed, look out the window and down to the garden before going to the bathing chamber to get ready for a long day ahead. There are two canaries perched on Steve’s open window when he approaches; they don’t even move when he sits on the windowsill next to them. Call Steve out of his mind but he feels as if those birds know him, they come to visit him every single day after all. Besides, Steve doesn’t have many friends, if these two birds want to befriend him who is he to deny them.

“Hey guys.” Steve says as he sits, looking out to the garden below. The sun has barely risen in the distance and the sky is blue with a yellowish sunbeam trying to peak through the horizon. The flowers below seem to sleep still, the roses closed up until later when the sunlight hits them. A quick glance up confirms a cloudless day. “I don’t think there’ll be any rain today, what do you think?”

One bird chirps, but it doesn’t sound like an affirmation or denial so Steve shrugs. “I guess you don’t really know.” He stands up and stretches his arms above his head, followed by a yawn. “Well, I gotta get going. See you later!”

Steve grabs some clothes from his closet and takes them with him to the bathing chamber –trousers, shirt, and vest over his forearm. Closing the door behind him, he sets about undressing and bathing, making sure his hair and body are clean before towelling himself dry. Clean and dressed up for the day ahead, Steve steps in front of the mirror and pats his hair down with a towel. He makes sure most of it is dry before combing through it and setting it in place with hair cream. He takes a good look at himself in the mirror, tries to give himself a pep-talk but finds that he can’t; he can only sigh and head downstairs. What use is it to lie to himself anyways? You got this, it’s going to be a great day, you’ll see! You won’t even disappoint your parents! Lies. It’s better to treat himself with honesty.

As usual, no one greets him good day when he goes downstairs; his father too busy pretending he doesn’t exist and his mother busying herself with a magazine while she drinks her morning coffee. Still, he says good morning and heads into the kitchen. They might not love or want anything to do with him, but he’s still polite. The deal is, Steve didn’t qualify to join the knighthood by 5 points. Everyone in his family has done it, his father, both grandfathers did too, all of his friends from school, but not him. A real shame for the Harrington name, his father had said when he found out, from this day on you stop being a Harrington to both of us. His mother had agreed and that’s that. Steve is a stranger in his own home, banned from attending any events or showing his face around the nobility. As far as people know, Lord Harrington has no children.

Two years is enough time to put all these things to the back of his mind, but Steve’s self-esteem… well it suffered a tough blow. He focuses on his breakfast and early morning chores to ignore his parents’ judgemental presence. Steve mops the big and cold house, dusts the pictures and portraits hanging from the wall and takes out the trash. By the time he’s done, he’s itching to leave the house; he wonders how it’s possible for a manor to feel like a matchbox –it’s walls moving inward until Steve feels claustrophobic enough to scream. He grabs his coat and keys and walks out of the house as fast as his feet can take him, only slowing down when he’s down the gravel road that leads into the village.

It's a short 20-minute walk that Steve doesn’t mind, it’s enough time to forget about what he left behind at home and focus on the workday ahead.

Lady Francis, Steve’s neighbor owns a store in the village’s centre. Her son, who ran the store with her, passed away three years ago and Steve’s been helping her out ever since. He tries to use as little family money as possible and Lady Francis pays him well, it’s mutually beneficial. She gets help, he saves money up for the day he can leave his house. The store’s a two-story building made out of brick and painted cream and blue. Inside, there are fruits, flowers, herbs, candles, and porcelain tea sets; all Lady Francis’ except for the porcelain sets, which are antiquities she brings from her travels.

Steve opens the door, flips the store’s sign to open and hangs his coat in the backroom. He takes a small clipboard from the office’s desk and starts running inventory of the various items in the store. He stops as soon as he starts though, because right that second there’s a commotion in the village. Steve puts the clipboard down and steps out of the store, trying to catch a glimpse at what’s happening down the road.

----

“We already discussed this last week. There are better ways to use the palace’s money than to throw a ball, you Majesty.” Shiny silk fabric wrinkles as you cross your arms across your chest and look at the King sitting on his throne in front of you. All around the palace, people are cleaning and decorating every hallway and the main ballroom with a large assortment of flowers. “I specifically said I did not want this, father, and you went ahead and invited people to come tonight. Without telling me, might I add.”

“You have to see it from your stepmother’s point of view.” The King tells you on the brink of exasperation. “Whether you like it or not, you must marry, and this ball will bring potential suitors from neighboring Kingdoms as well as our own.”

“I am 23 years old!” You exclaim and throw your hands up. “Why do you want me to marry?”

“Your sisters married at 19.” A squeaky voice says to your right, and you glance in that direction with a glare. Your stepmother gives you the fake smile she uses with your father, a stark contrast to the deathly looks she sends your way whenever you’re alone. “I’d say your opportunity is slipping away from you, dear.”

“Just because my stepsisters did, doesn’t mean I should be married too.” You shift your glare into a sweet smile, even faker than hers. “I said I don’t want a ball. It’s a waste of resources, there are other things we can do for our people.”

“Everyone has already been invited.” The King shrugs. “Your stepmother is right, my darling. I’m getting older and you need someone to take care of you when I’m gone, to be by your side when you take my place.”

You hear two huffs come from the throne room’s doorway behind you, which can only mean two things, two horrible things. Your stepsisters Linda and Vilma arrived. Great.

“As if someone would want such a piece of work.” Vilma snorts unkindly, moving past you to stand next to their mother.

“I’d start adopting cats if I were you.” Linda says next when she joins her twin sister.

Leave it to them to make spinster jokes at your expense only because they’re married and you’re not. Their envy makes them act that way, is what you remind yourself every time they say something cruel or side with their mother to convince your father to do something you don’t agree with. They resent you, that much you know, for even though they’re older than you, they are not princesses and won’t ever be. A stepchild doesn’t receive a title or anything for that matter. You wish you could say you’re sorry for them but given how brutally unkind the two of them are to you… you’re not. As if the world taking your mother away from you wasn’t enough, your father had to become infatuated and marry a despicable woman.

It takes great effort, but you hold back an eyeroll, choosing to smile at them instead. “I think there are good odds that I’ll find someone. The two of you got married after all.”

Your stepfamily sneers at the same time and it’s so comical you bite your tongue to avoid laughing. “You little–” Linda starts to say but your father, tired of your bickering, speaks up.

“Enough!” His voice echoes around the room. “The ball will take place, and as the princess of this kingdom you’re to find a husband. That’s my final word.” The King’s eyes look at you seriously, but you can see that his decision comes from the fear shining in his eyes.

“As you wish.” You nod and put your hands on your hips in defeat before an idea sparks your mind. “However, I have my own request if I’m to be forced to attend this ball.”

“Alright.” Your father nods, urging you to go on.

“I want to invite the village so they can enjoy it as well. And…” You smile as you pause for some dramatic tension. “I want to go to the village to invite them myself.”

“Invite them? Absolutely not.” Your stepmother huffs with an eyeroll.

“You’re not to go to the village.” The King reminds you with the raise of an eyebrow, ignoring your stepmother’s words. “We’ve spoken about this.”

“It’s my ball, no?” You raise your own eyebrow, a perfect mirror to his. “I can invite whoever I want, and I want to do it personally. If I can’t do that then you won’t see me tonight, it is a big palace after all.”

Your father drags a hand over his face as he sighs. Stubborn, just like your mother, he always says when you don’t see eye to eye. You’ve proved him right yet again. “Alright, go to the village. But just this once!”

The smile that takes over your face is triumphant as you glance over at your stepmother and raise your chin.

----

“Steve!” His friend and co-worker Robin –who’s late as always– emerges from the crowd and runs towards him. “The princess is going to have a ball! She’s coming this way and she’s inviting everyone.”

“How do you know?” Steve asks, skeptical. He’s never seen the princess before. Not in town because she never walks around the village, and not at any event because he is never allowed to attend.

“That’s what the commotion is about!” Robin throws her stuff inside the store, behind the front door and stands by the window with Steve. Her feet bounce eagerly in place as she strains her neck to look down the road. “I can’t wait to see her. She’s so pretty, Steve.”

Steve nods and shrugs. “So you’ve told me. You know I’ve never got the chance to meet her.”

“As if I could talk to her, dingus.” Robin rolls her eyes, eyes still trained on the road. “I just stare dreamily from a distance. You’ll get it when you see her.”

Just then, as if summoned by Robin’s words, you walk down the road. The crowd that’s gathered by each side makes way for you and two guards who walk some feet behind you. You’re smiling and greeting everyone as you walk by, stopping every now and then to ask a question or make short conversation with someone. There are flowers gathered in the crook of your arm, red roses and some pink ones Steve doesn’t know the name of. Steve can’t even hear what you’re saying, too focused on standing upright as his world seems to turn upside down. Robin’s words don’t come close to describe you, he thinks, because you look as if you’ve walked straight out of his dreams. Everything about you looks ethereal to him, from your hair to your smile; the way your purplish-blue dress fits you and highlights your beautiful complexion leaves him breathless.

“Of course, you’re all invited!” You’re saying your voice a beautiful melody to Steve’s ears. “Wear your best garments and be ready to dance.”

He's sure he looks just as foolish as he feels when you walk by Lady Francis’ store and he has to shake himself out of his trance. A second later you turn your head and meet his eyes and Steve’s stomach feels like a wasp’s nest.

“Hi.” You smile after a moment, stepping closer to the store. “Those periwinkles in your window are beautiful.”

Steve glances at the flowers and then at you as he fumbles for an answer. “H–Hi! I, uhh, I didn’t know they were periwinkles. The owner of the store put them there… I think?”

“They are beautiful aren’t they, your highness?” Robin is quick to intervene. She gestures at your dress with one hand while elbowing Steve’s arm with the other. “They also match your dress perfectly.”

Steve is quick to turn around and pluck out a few flowers before handing them to you. “Yeah, they match your dress.” He says, feeling his cheeks warm up when he steps closer to you. “A–A gift for you.”

Your eyes light up and a soft smile takes over your features. “Thank you… I didn’t catch your name, sorry.”

“Steve.” He says, then motions towards his friend. “This is Robin.”

You give the two of them your name before your eyes drift to your flowers, then down the road. “Well, thank you Steve and enjoy the rest of the day. I hope to see you at the ball tonight, you too Robin.”

Steve smiles and nods his head. “Yeah, for sure. Bye!”

“Bye!” Robin says too and you walk away continuing your visit down the street. A few seconds later you spare Steve one last glance he’s sure he’ll never forget.

Steve spends the rest of the day on edge; his mind goes over the different ways he can ask his parents for permission to attend the ball. Maybe he can offer to do the cooking in the house, or the ironing. Either way there has to be something he can bargain for this one chance to see you again. It’s stupid to hold out hope, after all Steve knows his parents and their feelings towards him, but it’s impossible to put of the spark that’s been lit inside his chest.

He goes over his words as he makes his way home at the end of the day, rehearsing everything from tone to delivery so he has a better chance of going. His hands are sweaty and his chest constricts with nerves at what he’s going to do, but it’s what it’ll take to attend –and Steve wishes for nothing more. His parents are making their way upstairs when he arrives home. He rushes towards them and stand at the bottom of the staircase when he calls for them.

“Mother, Father… may I speak with you?” He keeps his voice from faltering and tightens his hands into fists behind his back. He can’t lose his nerve, not even when his father looks down at him with his classic cold stare.

“Go on.” His father tells him, looking away bored already.

“There’s going to be a ball tonight; the princess came into the village today and invited everyone.” He starts, concealing his enthusiasm the right amount. “I wanted to–”

“Yes, the palace sent an invitation two weeks ago.” His father interrupts him and raises one eyebrow in curiosity. “Surely you’re not going to waste my time and ask for permission to go?”

“Father, the princess asked–”

With one raised hand Steve’s father interrupts again. “You already know the answer but I’ll repeat myself so we’re clear.”

Steve’s shoulders deflate and there’s a growing tightness in his throat all of a sudden.

“You’re not going to this or any ball.” His father speaks lowly, and his words feel like a slap across Steve’s face. “You’re forbidden, you hear me? I don’t want people asking questions. Don’t waste my time again.”

“If people see you there, Steve,” His mother speaks up, a worried tone in her voice, “We’ll be forced to talk about your failures. Don’t embarrass us further.”

With that the two of them continue their ascend upstairs and go to their respective rooms, leaving a defeated Steve behind.

He makes his way to his room shortly after, with a flurry of emotions stirring up in his chest at the unfairness of it all. A groan leaves his lips as he slams the door to his room with enough force to shake the lamp hanging from the ceiling. It is so unfair. Steve’s done nothing but try to prove himself to his parents but it’s like he’s invisible to them. Worse, they want to make him invisible for everyone else. He tries to take deep breaths but struggles to do so, a mixture of anger and frustration making his breaths catch. It takes three steps for him to reach the window and pull it open. He takes another breath then, of the fresh air flowing into the room, and looks down at the garden below. That’s where he spots them, periwinkles. He would have never recognized them or know their name if it wasn’t for today. Or you.

And just like that his mind goes back to you, and your encounter in the morning. She’s so pretty, Robin had said. Pretty hadn’t even come close to describe you, it’s not the word he’d use but he’s also not very good with words, so he’ll settle for beautiful. Steve grins like a fool at the memory, even if he made himself a fool in front of you. You’d invited him to the ball –the whole town really– but you’d smiled that dreamy smile of your and said ‘I hope to see you there.’ Steve feels like it was a personal invitation to him, there had been something between the two of you, otherwise his chest wouldn’t flutter at the memory of it all. But now… well it’s almost impossible for him to see you again, no matter how much he wants to.

Steve grunts and falls back on his bed, covering his face with his hands. He can’t even sneak out of the house to talk to you just for a moment. His parents are going to the ball and would spot him immediately if he showed his face, no matter how short a time it is. What is the point of Steve going if he has to hide all the time?

“There has to be a way.” He mumbles to himself, hands moving from his face to his hair. “I just wish it could be easy… I wish I could just go.”

Something begins to tickle his nose then, like dust falling on him, and Steve is sure he hears the whisper of his name from somewhere near him. It startles him in the quiet room making him sit up quickly and grab whatever is near him –in this case an empty water carafe from his nightstand. It takes him a moment, but Steve spots a tiny creature in front of him. Is that a fairy? He thinks. He thought they weren’t real, but here she is, tiny and shining in periwinkle light.

“Don’t hurt me! I’m here to help you!” The small fairy exclaims, voice squeaky and almost imperceptible as she holds her hands up.

Once Steve knows he’s not in fact losing his mind, and that the fairy in front of him is actually talking to him, his emotions shift towards confusion. “Help me?”

The fairy smiles, revealing lilac-coloured teeth that seem to shiny as much as her exterior. “Yes, so you can go to the ball and see the princess.”

Steve is incredulous; this fairy wants to help him attend the ball? Why? “Why?”

“You gave her periwinkles today.” The fairy explains with a smile, as if her answer makes everything clear.

It doesn’t, not really. So Steve furrows his brows —confused.

“I’m the periwinkle fairy?” The small creature explains again, gesturing towards the color of her shining light. “I saw that you really like this girl, and if the princess is going to be in a courtship, it should be with a nice young man like you.”

Steve’s mouth opens and falls closed a couple of times. What are the odds that there’s a fairy tied to the flowers he gave you, the flowers you like. Could it be possible that Steve’s luck is turning around? “So, when I wished…”

“I heard you.” The fairy nods and smiles once more, procuring a wand. “Now…. you’re already late, so do you want my help or not?”

“Yes!” He nods his head enthusiastically and stands up. “But how can you help me?”

“You won’t be recognized by anyone else but the princess with a very special spell,” The fairy says and flies closer to his face. “Close your eyes.”

Steve does and feels the tickling sensation on his nose as the fairy taps her wand against it to give him some of her magic. When he opens them again, he sees she’s taken his nicest white-tie clothes and magically changed them to look polished and regal. The once faded grey now seems to shine like velvet, with tiny embroideries along the neckline and sleeves. The black pants are perfectly ironed, without a lint in sight, and his boots are clean and polished. Steve can’t remember the last time he wore clothes these nice.

Steve’s voice is soft when he speaks, wonder shining in his eyes. He feels grateful beyond words. “Thank you. Thank you for this.”

“You can go until 12am.” The fairy tells him as she lays the clothes on his bed. “The spell will wear off them, and your parents will recognize you, Lord Steve.”

Steve holds up his hand. “Please, Steve is fine.”

The fairy laughs softly and nods. “Alright Steve, now hurry!”

Right! He’s already late. Steve grabs the clothes and changes in the bathing chamber quickly after brushing his teeth and combing his hair. He slips his boots on and runs down the stairs and out of the house faster than he’s ever done, until he’s at the stables. Once there he takes his saddle and his horse –Beam– and races out of the front gates towards the castle.

Even though Steve took a shortcut to get to the palace, there’s no one else outside when he runs to the door. They open for him and he steps inside in a rush, where he takes a second to catch his breath before continuing down the hall. Steve gives himself a peptalk as he looks around the room, he is dressed his best, he is at the ball, and he’ll get to talk to you soon.

He’s too distracted by the shining chandeliers hanging from the hallway’s ceiling that he doesn’t realize he’s going to run into someone until it happens.

“I’m so sorry.” Steve begins to say, steadying the person in front of him until he realizes it’s you. “Your highness.”

You keep him from bowing with a gentle hand on his shoulder and a smile. There it is, that smile. “Hi Steve.”

“H-Hi!” He runs a hand through his hair, looking for the right words to compliment you as his eyes take you in. “You look really beautiful.”

Beautiful. There it is, the only word that comes to Steve mind but doesn’t begin to cover your beauty. You’re in a deep blue gown, its big skirt flowing around you like the ocean and shimmering like the night sky. It’s got beautiful tiny jewels scattered all around the bodice and skirt, and Steve thinks you’re a work of art standing in front of him. Surely you can’t be real?

“Thank you.” You smile, looking down. “You look very handsome yourself.

Steve can’t help but smile at your compliment, before he remembers the ball. “Thank you, I hope I’m not too late?”

Your laugh follows his question, and it’s not unkind, it’s amused. “Not at all, I’m running late myself. My stepsister ruined my other dress.”

“I can’t help but be glad they did.” Steve says, surprising himself.

You smile at him shyly but meet his eyes nonetheless. “I guess you’re right.”

“If Robin is here.” Steve whispers conspiratorially with a step closer to you, “I’m sure we can take some light revenge on them.”

Steve’s heart soars when you giggle and nod. “I think we should.”

A door opens suddenly, not too far away from the top of you and two men step outside. “There you are princess, everyone is waiting for you.”

You nod at them before you look at Steve nervously, face loosing its natural color. “Would you like to dance the first song with me? I’d feel much better walking in there with someone I know.”

Steve is speechless for a moment but he nods, with your pretty eyes looking up at him how can he say no. He’s not much of a dancer but he’d make a fool of himself over and over again if it meant more time with you. He smiles, trying to ease your nerves. “Of course.”

You take Steve’s outstretched hand into yours, relishing in the comfort it brings once he squeezes it in reassurance. A feeling of breathlessness settles over you and not as a result of the nerves you feel. It seems to happen every time you look at Steve; it’s like his heart is reflected in his eyes, a quick glimpse at it if you know where to look. The only thing that snaps you out of your trance is the sparks that fly when you step closer to him on your way to the ballroom. Sparks that make your fingers tingle, the sensation travelling all the way up you arm and down to your stomach.

Everyone bows in front of you when you step into the ballroom, a sea of people that keep their eyes trained on your every move. It’s overwhelming, it always is, and your grip on Steve’s hand tightens as the two of you descend the stairs.

“I won’t let you fall.” Steve whispers next to your ear. “I promise.”

You chuckle and feel your shoulders relax, you’re not sure why but you trust Steve. More than you trust most people. He leads you to the middle of the ballroom, every step controlled and known by heart. His mother must have taken him to dance lessons, you presume as you offer him a courtesy when he bows in front of you. Steve asks for your permission to hold your waist with a glance down with his eyes. You nod your head and let him pull you closer by the waist, a shaky breath escaping you at the proximity.

Everyone is looking at the two of you, but for once you don’t mind. Not one bit. If it were another time, if you were accompanied by someone else, you’d feel the weight of every pair of eyes. It would be suffocating, but you look at the brown eyes in front of you and find that breathing has never been easier.

“I must warn you.” You smile as you gaze up at him. “I’m not that good of a dancer.”

Steve chuckles at your words, his hand a comforting weight on your waist. “Good, because I’m not very good either.”

“Lord help us.” You giggle and it makes Steve smile.

It turns out, that the two of you are perfect together.

The moment the music starts your steps synchronize perfectly, with Steve leading the waltz and your body following the path he traces for both of you. When the melody from the violins and cellos swells around you, Steve twirls you around, his fingers hanging on to yours as he holds you hand over your head. You spin and smile, always going back to his arms that are ready to hold you —your faces remain close together, noses close to brushing, and eyes never straying from the other’s. Even as you turn and the music envelops you, your eyes remain fixed on Steve’s brown ones and the warmth in them.

Guests join you on the dance floor but it’s like they’re not there, only you and Steve moving to the rhythm of the music as if you’ve done it thousands of times. Steve’s hands are gentle but secure on your waist, especially when you jump and he lifts you briefly in the air. The two of you smile incredulously at each other. How is it possible to be so incredibly connected to someone else just hours after you first meeting?

“Princess.” Steve says over the music, his eyes showing you his heart once again.

The smile that’s already on your face only grows. “Yes?”

The handsome man in front of you shakes his head. “I think this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

The chandeliers in the ceiling paint constellations in his brown eyes, make his brown waves shine, and cause your heart to flutter in your chest. You squeeze the hand that holds yours as the music comes to an end. “Me too, Steve.”

Everyone applauds the band, and it brings you back to the present and the ball around you. You can feel the King’s gaze on you, as well as your stepmother’s and stepsisters. It creates an immediate urge for you to get away, and lead Steve far away from your stepfamily’s unkind looks. He’s in your orbit now, whatever hatred they have over you falls on him as well; Steve doesn’t deserve it. Not after the wonderful dance you’ve just hand.

“Would you like to see the gardens?” You ask him.

Your question brings a smile to his face as he gives you a nod and offers his arm. “Won’t they miss you?”

You look at the dancing folk, all of them entertained by the music and the array of food on the sides of the room. You sigh happily, glad that the villagers are enjoying themselves. “I’m sure they’ll be more than fine without me.”

The two of you walk side by side as you guide Steve to the garden, your hand over his arm where it’s linked to yours. Once you step outside you can’t help but smile at the beautiful night that greets you. The roses are blooming under the moonlight, their white petals glowing with its light. You point to different flowers around the garden as you stroll around the gravel path, answering Steve’s questions about your favourite ones. You walk around the fountain in the middle garden, listening to the trickling water as you get to know each other more.

At some point, you hear music playing again, from inside the palace, and Steve offers you his hand to lead another waltz. A laugh bubbles up from within you as you give him your hand and begin to dance with him, feeling silly but also very young and alive. When was the last time you felt like that? The conversation continues between the two of you as you dance, words joining your steps. You learn that Steve is an only child and one year older than you; he doesn’t live in the village but it’s where he works. You share with him too, mentioning how it’s just you and your dad in the castle since your mother passed. You comment on your father remarrying years ago and you being unsure of your feelings about that it.

“I haven’t seen you at any other events at the palace.” You tell Steve, linking your arm with his when the song is over.

Steve sighs and scratches his chin with his free hand. “I know, it’s just my parents… we quarrel often, and I end up suffering the consequences.”

“They don’t let you attend?” You turn your face to glance at him.

“Nope,” Steve smiles; it’s not the happy one you’ve seen all night, this one’s sad almost disappointed. “I’m not deserving of the Harrington name apparently.”

You furrow your eyebrows while you go over his words. You’ve seen Lord Harrington before, and you see the resemblance in Steve’s face, but it’s impossible to believe that such a cold man could have such a wonderful son. It’s not impossible though, to believe that they’re as cruel as Steve paints them to be. You’ve experienced many of your own quarrels with you stepmother.

“I don’t think it’s the same, but if it’s any consolation…” You tell him with what you hope is a comforting look. “My stepmother and stepsisters convinced my father not to let me visit the village.”

Steve’s face whips towards you. “What? Why?”

You shrug, trying to dismiss the hurt that comes from the thought of them. “I think they just want to make my life miserable, but I don’t think they’re succeeding.” A smile makes its way to your face as you glance a Steve.

“Oh really?” Steve smiles back, looking at you. “Why is that?”

You smile at him and look away feeling sheepish before you even speak. “The one day I finally convince my father to let me visit the village, I meet you. Then at the ball they forced me to attend, I get to see you again.”

Steve shakes his head, and scratches his chin flustered. It makes you smile, knowing you’re not the only one nervous tonight. “How do you know it’s not bad luck?” He chuckles, then looks up, eyes wide, like he wasn’t supposed to say it out loud.

“I think it’s quite the opposite.” You shrug and move your hold from his arm to his hand, hoping to give him comfort. It’s hard to fight the frown that wants to take over your face, what has he been told by his family? “Don’t think lowly of yourself only because other people think so, Steve. We are all more than other people’s opinions you know.”

A moment of silence passes between the two of you, before you spot the path ahead and show it to Steve. Your eyes light up even as your stomach flips when you look at the boy next to you. “Come on, you have to see this!”

Steve watches you go down a hidden path between some trees; it’s barely visible, he wouldn’t have known it was there if you hadn’t just disappeared through it. He is quick to follow, worried you’ll hurt yourself, or sprain your ankle as you run over the grass. As he passes in between the trees, he finds an even bigger one right in front of him. It must be 200 years old with how much it’s grown but there’s a low branch that you’ve just reached. You hold yourself up with one hand as you take of your shoes –they’re covered in jewels, just like your dress and they glint in the moonlight that sneaks through the tree’s leaves.

“I can take those for you.” Steve offers with a smile, which you return. He leaves the shoes on the ground and kneels down so you can use his knee as a step to climb the tree. By the dexterity with which you get on the branch and then another, Steve knows you must do this every day. It makes him smile, yet another thing he now knows about you, something to like you even more.

“Come on, Steve!” You call for him and he chuckles.

Steve grabs your shoes and begins to climb after you, wanting to stay close to you in case something happens. “Be careful, you can trip on your dress!” He tells you as he makes his way to you.

There is a small tree house two branches off the ground, hidden perfectly from view from the castle and the grass below. In front of him there’s a small balcony, where you stand, overlooking the countryside and the small village below. It’s breathtaking, and Steve knows right away this must be where you escape to in the castle.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it!” You smile, voice bringing Steve’s gaze back to you where it stays.

Steve feels speechless once again, looking at you so close to him, your eyes reflecting the small light coming from the village. “Yes.” He says, but his eyes are scanning your face instead of the view. Beautiful not only on the outside but on the inside as well. He still can’t forget your words from earlier, they resonate inside his mind like a foreign reminder that he shouldn’t be so hard on himself.

“You’ve worked with Lady Francis for long?” You ask him after a few moments of comfortable silence

“Yeah,” Steve nods, placing his hands on the wooden handrail in front of him. “I mean a couple of years; She’s needed the help since she lost her boy.”

You nod your head as he speaks, moving so you’re looking at him directly. “That’s very kind of you. She’s a lovely person, I’ve met her a couple of times.”

Steve shrugs, he’s never considered it something to call attention to. To him it’s… “Tt’s the right thing to do.” He says, then decides to ask you something too –more than eager to know you more. “What about you? Do you know when your next visit to the village will be?”

You frown and Steve feels the urge to do whatever is necessary to make you happy. “I’m not sure, my stepmother and sisters…they convinced my father to give me an ultimatum a few months ago.”

“Ultimatum?” Steve furrows his brows, whatever you’re about to say next doesn’t sound good.

“My father claims he is getting older and worries about me being alone.” You sigh and turn back to look down at the village. Steve doesn’t miss the longing in your eyes. “He says I need someone to take care of me, even though I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

Steve puts two and two together right away. “So he wants you to…”

“To get married, yes.” You nod, swallowing hard and shaking your head. “Right away, and I’m truly afraid I’ll be forced to be with someone that’s not right for me instead of someone I know or someone I like.” Your eyes meet his and for a moment he feels like you’re talking about him –it makes his next breath catch on his throat. Would they really make you marry someone you don’t even know?

Indignation floods Steve in the blink of an eye, at your agency being stripped away from you and the fact you worry about this at all.

“I–” Steve begins to say but voices coming from the garden make the two of you quiet down.

“Guards.” You whisper, standing behind Steve to keep yourself out of sight should they find the path.

“I can’t believe we lost the princess, AGAIN!” One voice says, clearly frustrated.

“Well, keep looking. The King wants to see her back at the ballroom at once.” Another one replies, and a moment later only the sound of retreating footsteps can be heard.

You frown, voice soft but forlorn. “They’ll come again, maybe we should be getting back.”

Steve only nods and climbs down the tree first, so he can help you descend the last branch safely. Once back on the grass, Steve puts your shoes on the ground and holds out his arms for you. “Jump,” He says, “I’ll catch you.”

You don’t hesitate, jumping into his arms a second later. Steve is swift to catch you; you’re safe and unscathed, making Steve’s worry of you falling fade away.

It is then he notices your faces are barely 3 inches apart –Steve can even feel your breath mingling with his, just as it did when you waltzed in the palace. His heart hammers like crazy on his chest, he’s sure you feel it.

“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper, and he nods putting you back down on the ground.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Steve offers, kneeling on the grass to help you with your shoes.

He’s glad you can’t see his face, which feels scalding hot as you lift part of your dress’ skirt so he can tie your shoes back into place. It’s just an ankle, Steve reminds himself, calm down. He moves to tie the second shoes for you, but just then the palace’s clock strikes the last minute till midnight.

Steve stands up quickly. “Oh no.”

Your face is nothing but confusion as you look at him. “What?”

“I have to go right now. But I’ll find a way to see you again.” Steve says in a rush as reaches for both your hands. “There has to be a way.”

You nod, pretty eyes looking worriedly at him and still confused. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes.” Steve is quick to reassure you. “Thank you, for everything tonight.”

Before he can overthink it, he leans in and kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, princess.” Then he kisses your right hand and starts to run. He needs to find his horse so he can be home before his parents, he can’t imagine the mess he’d be in if they found out. Steve risks one glance over his shoulder and sees you stand there, bathed in moonlight. There has to be a way.

----

Steve sleeps like a baby all night; he hid his clothes back in his closet, sure that the magic would disappear from them eventually, and went straight to bed. He woke up in a good mood, better than any other day just from the memory of the night before. He is sure not to show it around the house though, the last thing he needs is his parents suspecting something. Steve acts downright miserable as he descends the stairs and grabs some breakfast from the kitchen. His frown remains on his face until he’s put enough distance between himself and the house to smile freely, a skip to his step as he walks down the road to the village. He forgets his umbrella, having looked at the grey sky in the morning, but he doesn’t dare return to the house. He can’t hide his smile again, even though there’s one nagging thought in the back of his mind.

Was all of it real? Would he even see you again? Should he forget about it, save himself the disappointment?

For once, Robin is at the store before him. She smiles knowingly when she spots his happy demeanour. “You little shit.” She says, with a shake of her head. “You little shit!”

“What?” Steve asks, side stepping her to go through the store’s front door.

“You were there last night!” Robin lowers her voice to a whisper. “You were the mysterious man that danced with the princess.”

Steve is so surprised he can’t hide the surprise on his face; he imagined Robin was giving him shit for something else he did. Never this.

“I fucking knew it!” She grabs his shirt sleeve and drags him to the backroom. “How did you do it?”

“How did you know!” Steve asks instead. Did the spell wear off at some point? Did the fairy lie to him?

“The princess, obviously.” Robin tells him with an eyeroll, sitting on the desk nearby. “She came up to me last night. She told me you said I could help with a little revenge, and I said, ‘Steve said that?’ Then she said ‘yes, I told him earlier how my stepsisters ruined my other dress’ Which by the way I’m thankful for, did you see that navy dress on her?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and begins to speak in between a smile. “Of course, I did, I–” He stops when his mind catches up to Robin’s words.

Fuck, he forgot to tell you he wasn’t supposed to be there. On the other hand, how weird would that have been? I got my face magic-ed so no one recognizes me. Yeah, no, Steve knows you’re an intelligent woman, so you probably figured it out on your own.

“What did you do?” He asks, shaking his thoughts away.

“Oh!” Robin’s eyes light up. “We accidentally knocked some punch over; I think you can imagine the rest.”

Steve laughs, imagining the two of you pulling a prank on your stepsisters. From what Steve heard about them from you, they had it coming. His laughter though, stops as soon as it starts and his stomach drops. What if… “Did you see my parents talk to the Princess?” He asks Robin.

“What?” Robin’s own giggles are cut short by the random question, then her eyebrows furrow as she tries to recall the night before. “No, I don’t think so. She danced a couple of songs with her father and swerved every prince that came to Indiana to dance with her.”

Steve lets out a breath. “Okay that’s good. They can’t know I was there.”

“You’re really going to make me ask.”

“Ask what?” Steve shrugs, knowing exactly what she means but stalling for time. There is no sane way to tell her about the fairy’s visit.

Robin groans, looking up at the ceiling before meeting Steve’s eyes with a curious gaze. “How did you manage to go and not be recognized?”

“You won’t believe me.” He shakes his head and looks away as his hands settle on his hips. Up until he talked to Robin, he was going to convince himself he dreamed all of it. The fairy, the ball, you, your conversation. Everything. But knowing Robin saw the two of you dance and hear about him from you, is all he needs to know that it was real. If it was real, he can’t forget it. He got really lucky last night, for some unknown reason.

“’Course I’ll believe you, try me.” Robin pushes her chin up, daring Steve to tell her the truth.

Steve does. He tells her about asking for permission but being forbidden from attending the ball. How he locked himself in his room, wished he could go, and a fairy appeared out of nowhere. Steve explains how the fairy gave him some of her magic to make him unrecognizable to everyone except the princess, which of course makes Robin laugh out loud.

He rolls his eyes, even though this is the reaction he expected her to have. Robin laughs for another minute before she puts her hands up, claiming she believes him.

“I do!” She says. “It sounds more possible than what I had in mind?”

“Which was?” Steve asks curiously.

“A very realistic mask.” Robin shrugs, and Steve shakes his head with a chuckle.

After a moment of silence, Steve speaks up again. “Robin, she’s…”

“Perfect?” His friend prompts, batting her eyelashes mockingly.

“Yes.” Steve sighs, wishing she wouldn’t interrupt so much. “But–”

“And you’re crushing hard on her, I saw the two of you dance, I’d say go for it.”

“What?” Now Steve is really lost. He was going to tell her about the predicament you’re in; being forced to marry thank to your stepmother’s manipulation. Just thinking about it makes Steve clench his hands into fists. And he thought his life was unfair.

“Ask her out and court her dingus!” Robin flicks him on the nose, bringing him back to the present. “You didn’t see the way she looked at you, but I did.”

“I can’t.” Steve shakes his head in frustration, pressing his fists on the wooden table in front of him.

“Why?” Robin looks at him as if he grew another head. “Of course, you can.”

“Don’t you remember? My father is head of the house and has to make the courtship official.” Steve can’t keep the defeat out of his voice. “You know he’d never approve.”

His friend shrugs and offers a quick solution. “Forge his approval then!”

Robin’s answer catches Steve by surprise and shocked laughter bursts out of him. He shakes his head after a moment, back to reality. “Forge it so when I court the princess and he finds out he can go to the palace and say it’s all a fraud? The King could ban me from seeing his daughter because I’m a liar apart from a disappointment!”

“Steve.” Robin sighs, a frown pulls her lips downwards. “You’re overthinking this too much. How about we wait until the princess comes back to town and ask her personally.”

Steve groans and throws his hands up in exasperation before turning around and walking towards the backroom where he will stay until the end of the shift. It’s not like what Robin said isn’t feasible, he can do it –he’d love to offer you his hand in courtship really. But you’re not coming to town any time soon, the only time your family allowed it was before the ball. With no other event in sight, the chances of Steve seeing you again are close to zero. The worst part, and what’s eating at Steve inside, is that he promised to see you again; he was so full of fondness and adoration, so completely gone for you that he didn’t think past that moment. All he had known was that he hated to leave you in the garden and wanted to see you again as soon as possible. He didn’t realize he’d need an invitation to the palace to see you, too caught up in the moment to think that you visiting the town would be difficult to the say the least. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Steve’s sour mood follows him all afternoon –he manages a small smile towards Robin when he says goodbye but that’s all. Grey clouds still loom overhead while he walks home, taking the long way back to avoid walking in on dinner time. The last thing he needs is to sit through unbearable silence and disappointed staring from his parents across the table. But as Steve’s luck usually goes, things don’t go as he planned them to. Even the sky seems to foresee what’s in store, as droplets of rainwater begin falling down onto Steve like tears coming from the clouds above.

The house is quiet when he arrives and only a couple of candles have been lit in the hallway leading to the staircase. It’s odd and it’s a bit worrying, and that is saying something in Steve’s house. Foolishly, he grabs the umbrella he forgot that morning and goes up the stairs to his room –call him paranoid, but he’d rather have something in hand if necessary. There is no one in the upstairs hall, or the library, but two frightening figures stand by the window in his room. His mother and father, look out the window silently and don’t turn around until he speaks up.

“Mom?” Steve is more than confused as he furrows his eyebrows and looks between the two of them. “Is something wrong?”

“Can you explain why you had this in your closet?” His mother replies, pointing a finger at his bed.

His clothes from last night, exactly as they were when the fairy changed them. They never changed back as he hoped they would, and now his parents know.

“Uh… I don’t… I mean–” Steve fumbles for an excuse.

“I thought I was clear when I said you couldn’t go to the ball.” His father speaks up, turning around slowly and pinning him down with a cold stare. “You disobeyed my direct order and danced with the princess risking embarrassing us further. I don’t even want to know how you fooled us.”

Steve feels unable to speak as he stares into his father’s eyes; a kind of darkness makes a fleeting appearance in them, and it makes Steve fear the worst. “Very well, you give me no choice.” His father’s eyes leave him for a moment as he scans the room with distaste. “You’re forbidden to leave the house… no, your room, except for chores.”

“What?” Steve drops the umbrella he was holding, and it clatters on the ground. He can’t even remember to control his reaction in front of his parents as his eyebrows furrow in anger. “You can’t do that! I have a job; I need to go to town!”

“I can and I will.” His father’s voice echoes in room as it increases in volume; his eyes burn with disappointment and annoyance. “Forget your mediocre job, forget about the princess. You’re not leaving this house again until I send you away for good. You hear me?”

Steve’s mother remains silent and doesn’t spare him much of a glance as she follows her husband out of the room. The door closes with a loud slam and the doorknob moves briefly as the lock is put in place from the outside. Thunder booms in the sky and Steve flinches; his entire body shakes in anger. He clenches his fists by his sides but just as quickly as the anger enters his body, it leaves. Steve’s shoulders hunch in defeat and soon begin to shake, he can’t help it anymore, he allows himself to cry.

----

You knew that Steve’s promise would be hard to keep. It was a given that considering you’re not allowed into town; he would have to be the one to visit you at the palace. But without an invitation, that was near impossible to happen. From that knowledge, you’ve sent many –to his home and Lady Francis’ store– but there’s been no answer. The ones sent to Lord Harrington’s house have been returned, unopened and with a note claiming there is no Steve Harrington living with them. The same didn’t happen with the ones sent to his workplace —those never returned. You hoped Robin would give them to Steve and that he’d come to the palace the next day, with that smile of his –the one you can’t stop thinking about– fully in display as he goes through the gates.

No such luck.

With no response from Steve and refusing your father’s attempts to marry you off to some of the princes that attended the ball… life at the palace had become almost unbearable. It was full of fighting, spinster jokes from your stepsisters and threats from your stepmother. You’d resorted to avoiding the family altogether, spending your time alone remembering the night of the ball and regretting it soon after.

How is it that you can miss someone so much after seeing them in two separate occasions? You imagine because this someone is Steve, and you’re convinced he’s the person you’ve always dreamed of finding. He’s kind, funny, gentle, caring, not to mention how handsome he it. You can’t stop thinking about him, no matter how much you try. It's been that way for two weeks, with him invading your mind and you trying to avoid it to spare yourself the pain.

Something must have happened. You’re sure of it. Steve wouldn’t leave you hanging, he’d at least try to send a response out for you. It unsettles something in your stomach to think about him in trouble for attending the ball. What if his father, Lord Harrington Senior, did something to him. Did he realize Steve went to the ball? What if Steve’s hurt? Or worse, just as lonely as you are right now.

If this is about the ball and the magical moments you shared together, you had to do something and try to fix it. You refuse to let that night become a bad memory for both of you, a what if that never came to be. You both deserve more, you want more, and if it’s in your hands to propose it then you will.

You take determined steps towards the King’s meeting chamber, accepting his latest invitation to dialogue, and ready to fight for what you want. The guards open the chamber’s door for you, revealing the room’s white marbled floor and the paintings of past Kings and Queens that hang from the wall. Your father sits on his chair, your stepmother stands by the right-side window and several of the King’s advisors talk quietly in different corners. You walk until you stand in front of him, a big oak table between the two of you.

“Father.” You greet him as a start, staring into his eyes that are a mirror to yours. “I’m here to speak on the matter your insistence of me marrying.”

“You’ve accepted Prince Reese’s proposal then.” He smiles happily, motioning you to sit down in front of him. You don’t.

“I haven’t accepted anyone’s proposal.” You say firmly. “I refuse any further attempt to marry me off to any of these Princes.”

The King raises an eyebrow, a mannerism the two of you got from your mother. “I was very clear when we spoke about this last time, my darling.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t agree to anything last time, father. You imposed something onto me without asking for my opinion first.”

“There will be no more discussion about this.” Your father stands up, disgruntled with your continuous debate.

“Yes there will be.” You raise your chin with determination. “I’m going to court Lord Steve Harrington. I wish to get to know him.”

The king shakes his head, eyebrows meeting in the middle. “Regardless of his title, his father hasn’t been around to announce any proposal.”

“I’m asking him.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes and remain serene instead.

“You can’t.” Your father clutches his chair’s headrest, patience growing thin.

“I have agency!”

“No, you don’t!” His words make you flinch, but you refuse to take a step back, you won’t give him any more ground to stand on. “You need to get married, as soon as possible.”

You take a deep breath willing yourself to keep a calm posture, but a single voice speaks up and throws that willingness out of the window.

“Listen to your father, my dear.” Your stepmother says with a condescending look and a fake sweet voice.

Your gaze moves to hers with a glare before you close your eyes and scream. “OUT! EVERYONE OUT, PLEASE. RIGHT NOW!”

You look around the room, daring your father’s loathsome advisors to question you but they soon scatter out of the room. “I wish to speak to my father alone.” You say, looking into the King’s eyes but clearly addressing your stepmother that still lingers to your left.

A huff and the clicking of heels soon follow, until it’s only you and the man in front of you in the room. The King and the Princess. One sad and scared since the Queen he loved so dearly passed, the other scared the opportunity for a love like her parents’ is slipping through her fingers.

You walk around the table with a sigh and approach your father until you take his hands into yours. “Father, weren’t you and mother best friends before you married?”

“That’s different my dear.” He sighs, a frown tugging at his lips as it always does at the memory of the person he loved most in the world. “We knew each other for a long time; it was natural for us to fall in love and get married.”

You sigh just like him and squeeze his hands. “I would already know Steve, father, had the circumstances been different. He’s worked at Lady Francis’ for 3 years, but I haven’t seen him because I haven’t been allowed into town.”

Your gaze moves back to your father’s eyes, hoping he can see your feelings in them. “I ask you, please father, I beg you to see things my way. I’m scared you’ll marry me off to some stranger when I want to get to know Steve. I really think he’s the one. You saw me that night, when was the last time I smiled so much?”

The King lets go of your hands and puts them behind his back; he turns and takes a few steps, deep in thought. “Too long.” He says finally, eyebrows meeting in the middle of his face, the crease that’s already there getting deeper. “Go to town and bring him to the palace so I can meet him properly.”

A gasp escapes you just as a smile takes over your face. You walk towards your father and hug him tightly, feeling a weigh lift off your shoulders. “Thank you, your Majesty.” Is all you say before turning around and running out of the room, your dress floating behind you as you do.

You’re at the palace’s gates in no time, out of breath but beaming as the guards open the metal doors for you. Two others trail behind you, struggling to catch up as you make a run for it to town. You can tell the villagers are surprised to see you –their princess running through the streets is not a common sight for them. “Good morning!” You tell the people you pass. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

They don’t have time to answer as you rush past them and keep running until you spot Lady Francis’ shop, its cream and blue exterior a welcoming sight. Your smile is beaming as you walk through the open door and look around the shop. “Hello?”

There’s rustling coming from the second floor followed by hurried steps and a familiar voice. “Princess Y/N?” Robin’s head pops up from the second-floor railing. You strain your neck to look up at her, and smile.

“Hi Robin.” Your hand comes up in a small wave. “Is Steve around?”

Robin’s surprised look turns sad, it’s confirmation enough that something had indeed happened just like you imagined. How bad, you’re still unsure. “What happened to him? Is he okay?”

“I– I don’t know, he hasn’t been back in two weeks.” Robin descends the stairs until she’s standing in front of you, she tries to bow but you stop her with a shake of your head. “His parents have trapped him in his own house. I tried to give him the invitations you sent here but Lord Harrington –Steve’s dad– only yelled at me.”

“No.” You whisper and shake your head. Bringing a hand up to your hair you go over Robin’s words, your gaze down at the ground as you pace. “Did you tell him the invitations were from the Palace?”

Robin nods enthusiastically, her short hair bouncing as she does. “Yes, but he didn’t care!”

“Hm… We must help him, there’s got to be something we can do. My father wants to meet him.” You talk both to yourself and to Robin, hoping that voicing your thoughts will help you come up with something when suddenly, just like lightning, your eyes widen with clarity. “My father wants to meet him.”

Robin looks at you blankly for a moment, “I don’t think the King does house calls though?”

You keep your gaze on her, urging her to catch on to what you have in mind. “But they don’t have to know it’s not the real King, that’s visiting them… do they?”

Robin’s face lights up, a smile taking over her features, making her freckles stand out. “We bring a fake King! Demand to see Steve and the two of you live happily ever after”

You laugh and nod at her enthusiasm, feeling it cursing though your own body as well. “We’ll need to raid my father’s closet and convince a few guards.” You tell Robin who matches your mischievous smile just like she did at the ball. “Are you in?”

---

Steve is tired when he walks back to his room –or prison, depending on your perspective– after a long day of chores around the house. He doesn’t complain about doing work around the house, not usually, but it seems as if his parents are taking all their frustrations out on him. His chores have doubled, the house seems to become a mess overnight, and every day without fail, someone yells at him for whatever mistake he makes. It’s exhausting, and it’s got no end in sight. Steve doesn’t know how much more he’ll be able to take.

His only refuge is going back to his room at the end of the day. He takes long baths after dinner where tries to forget each day so that by the time he’s in the safe comfort of his bed he can sleep peacefully. Thinking about the ball helps; Steve remembers the way he danced with you, the smile in both of your faces, and how right it felt. But sometimes, when Steve’s had a really bad day, he chastises himself for attending. If he hadn’t, well he wouldn’t be thinking of you day and night. He wouldn’t make up stupid scenarios in his head where he’s able to leave the house, ask to be your boyfriend, and keep you safe from anything or anyone that tries to hurt you. He wouldn’t be in this mess.

But as things usually go for him, he is in the middle of a mess of his own doing –no freedom, no princess, nothing.

Steve thinks he hears horses galloping in the distance as he makes his way to his bed, ready to lie down for a while before he takes a bath. It’s probably a caller for my father, he thinks as he sinks into the mattress and closes his eyes at the comfort. He lets out a long exhale and tries to release the tension on his shoulders when an incessant tapping comes from the window. Peeking one eye open, Steve looks to his right to find his two small canary friends — they stopped visiting since he got grounded as his window was locked that very same night. To say Steve is happy to see them would be understating the truth, so he gets off the bed as fast as he can and rushes to where they peck the window.

“Hey, you two.” Steve smiles despite the long and hard day he had. “How have you been?”

The canaries keep tapping the window with their small beaks, and Steve furrows his brows. They’re holding something, and they want Steve to see it. Crouching so that his eyes are levelled with the window’s lower edge, Steve catches a glimpse of periwinkle lilies clutched in their feet. “Those look like the ones I gave the princess.” Steve tells them, standing back up.

The birds begin flying around the window excitedly, their winds flapping as fast as they can manage. When Steve keeps standing there, confused, they tap the window again right in front of his face. Are they pointing at me? Steve wonders before his mind catches up to what they’re trying to say.

The horses he heard, the lilies and Steve. The princess is here to see Steve. “The princess is here to see me!” Steve exclaims and the birds fly again, chirping happily.

He laughs, and looks around the room, looking for a way to open the window –he has a very good reason to wreck it if needed. But before he can do any damage, he remembers the small window in the bathing chamber. It’s a tight fit but he can manage. “I know what to do.” He tells the canaries and takes off to the adjacent room.

Once in the bathing chamber, Steve moves the furniture around and begins to climb onto the dresser until he’s able to look out the small window. He is very high up from the ground, but hopefully, the vines covering the back of the house are sturdy enough to handle his weigh. He tries to be careful, but his priority is speed; there’s no way he’s going to risk missing you after his father tells you whatever lie he’s come up with. So Steve squeezes out of the window, facing upwards so that his hands can grab onto the vines and he can pull the rest of his body out. He begins to climb down as fast as he can, getting leaves and green stains on his clothes but he doesn’t mind. He jumps once he’s closer to the ground and runs towards the house’s main entrance, hiding behind some bushes when he hears his father’s voice.

“I don’t know a Steve Harrington.” His father says haltingly, probably looking down his nose as he speaks. “You’re in the wrong house.”

“I’ve talked to the villagers, and close friends of yours.” Your voice is calm but confident when you speak up; it soothes Steve like a healing balm. You’re here. “My father and I have been assured he lives here, and I doubt everyone decided to lie us.”

“Call the boy!” A strange voice says next, confusing Steve. Did the King come to see him too?

“My apologies.” Steve’s father says, not meaning it from the tone of his voice. “What I meant to say was, there’s no Steve Harrington living here anymore.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief and stands up; passing on an opportunity to expose his father as a liar? Not a chance. He steps out of his hiding place and walk to the front entrance where everyone has gathered.

You notice the movement right away and Steve feels all the air leave his lungs when your eyes meet his. It’s like the sky knows what’s happening right away, for the clouds part and a single ray of sunshine bathes you in light. The lavender coloured dress you wear looks beautiful on you, its embroidered sleeves and hem shimmering with the light. You look ethereal as you smile at him, and Steve is speechless. How did he become this lucky? To have met you, to see you again when it seemed more than unlikely, to have your affection.

If he’s this lucky, there’s no way he’s going to let this chance go. Before he knows it, his feet move him towards you, and he takes your hands once he’s close enough.

“Princess.” Steve says, sounding as breathless as he feels. He bows his head briefly before his eyes return to yours. “Hi.”

“Hi, Steve.” You smile, face instantly lighting up. You take a step closer to him, until your faces are inches apart, and you lean up to press your forehead against his. “I found you.”

Steve closes his eyes and sighs; he leans down and moves his face slightly to brush his nose against yours. “Yes, I’m here.”

“I summon you to the castle young man!” The strange voice speaks up once more, making Steve take a step back and look at its source.

Behind the princess stand six horses, all of them with riders except for yours that remains empty; next to it is a weird-looking man, with a slightly skewed mustache, big hat, and a turquoise coat that looks too big for him. That’s the King? He doesn’t look like he did at the night of the ball. Steve looks at him quizzically before looking back at you, ready to ask a question. You smile at him again though and raise your eyebrows subtly enough for him to know that this is your doing.

“Don’t you dare go without my permission, Steve Harrington!” Steve’s father warns, voice booming across the front yard. Steve finds that it doesn’t make him flinch like it used to, and he is able to turn around and face his father with confidence and no fear.

“You’re not even properly dressed!” His mother exclaims a second later, glancing down at his stained clothing.

Steve looks down too, assessing the dirt marks and splashes of green the vines left behind. He couldn’t go to meet your father like this, could he? He looks nothing like the man he danced with you two weeks ago, at least not with the clothes he’s currently wearing. He’s about to speak up, tell you he’s not properly dressed and look for a solution when the solution presents itself.

A twinkling periwinkle light floats out from the garden and circles Steve twice; it leaves sparkling dust behind, and in a matter of seconds Steve’s clothes change. You gasp as you see the magical transformation. Steve’s work trousers have changed into well-tailored dark grey ones and his stained shirt has been replaced for a crisp and clean white one and a navy blue embroidered coat. Even his boots have been shined and his hair combed back into place, just like the night of the ball. He’ll be sure to have lots of periwinkle flowers at lady Francis’ shop from now on, as a thank you.

“Actually, father.” Steve smiles, looking into his father’s eyes. “I can leave without your permission, and I don’t think I’m coming back.”

“We don’t want your things here either!” His father says, turning around and heading back to the house, completely unfazed by Steve’s words.

“I’ll be back for them.” Steve calls out as he shrugs. “Right now, the King wants to talk to me.”

The front door closes with a loud slam and with it a big weight lifts from Steve’s shoulders; he finds that even breathing feels easier out of the house.

You take his hand a moment later, your fingers fitting perfectly intertwined with his as you look up at him softly. “What you just did was very brave, Steve. Are you okay?”

“More than okay, my Princess.” Steve smiles and presses his forehead against yours briefly. “Let’s go.”

You smile and nod before you get on your horse and wait for Steve to retrieve his. Once everyone is ready, all seven horses leave the Harrington residence, their footfalls leaving a trail of dust behind them. The King reveals himself then, taking off his moustache and hat to show that it was Robin on the horse all along. The three of you laugh with disbelief but most of all, with pure happiness. Steve catches your eyes a moment later, feeling his cheeks and hurt from the emotion that is consumes him from within. Never in a million years he would have believed this could happen to him, that the girl of his dreams would come to rescue him. Still, there’s something in the back of his mind that he needs to address.

“Can I talk to you alone?” Steve asks you, hating the open-ended question that makes your smile falter —no wonder imagining the worst. “It’s nothing bad I promise!”

You nod your head and gallop ahead to talk to one of the guards leading the way back to the palace. Soon enough, all of you are stopping near a clear water spring by the edge of the forest. The horses drink, the guards rest and Robin sits by the edge of the spring while the two of you move further away.

“I’m sorry.” Steve says, once you’re alone. Looking at you with the remorse he feels. “I’m so sorry. I told you I’d look for a way, but I wasn’t able to leave the house.” He sees the way you smile softly, the small breath you let out as you look at him with so much care, he can barely bare it.

Steve moves closer to you and gently holds your face in his hands, your skin is soft beneath his touch. “I’m very sorry, Y/N.” He whispers.

Your hands move to cover his, much smaller and gentle in their touch. Steve feels your thumbs caress the back of his hands as you speak softly. “Don’t be sorry, Steve.” You whisper, “I understand. I’ve been doing some work on my side too.”

Steve furrows his brows. “What kind of work?”

“You’re the kindest, most wonderful, caring and unbearably attractive person I know. I can’t even find the words that’ll do you justice.” Your smile is blinding as you beam up at him and take his hands into yours. “If your dad won’t allow you to propose a courtship, then I will propose it to you Steve Harrington. I’d love nothing more than get to know you, and let you get to know me. So, um.. w-what do you say?”

Steve feels his eyes roam your face as his mind catches up and makes sense of your words and what you’re proposing. You look up at him, pretty eyes shining with expectation and worry as you hold his hand between the two of you. Steve smiles. As if him saying no could be possible. With a soft shake of his head, Steve leans in and kisses you, letting out a low sound of content and melting with a single kiss. He feels you sigh against his lips and lets go of your hands to hold you face instead; his face moves to the right, allowing for a more comfortable angle as his lips slowly brush against yours until you’re too breathless to continue.

“Yes.” Steve says, his forehead pressing against yours. He’s pretty sure you’re not allowed to kiss, but none of you seem to care. “Of course I accept, princess. I’ll prove myself worthy of you.”

Steve feels the moment you shake your head. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me Steve.” You whisper.

Overwhelmed with your words, Steve ducks his head and brushes his nose against the side of yours. He places a kiss to the corner of your mouth and whispers your name. “I really, really like you. You don’t know how much.”

You move to look up into Steve’s eyes and place a hand on his cheek. “I really like you too, Steve.”

Steve smiles, and you do too, both of you feeling immersed in your own little world; basking in the happiness the day has brought. It is only when one of your horses whines in the distance that Steve speaks up. “We should get going, you said your father is waiting.”

You look around you before smiling at Steve again. “Just one more.” You tell him, bringing his face closer to yours and kissing him again.

Steve can’t help but smile against your lips as he places his hands on your waist and kisses you back. This is all he ever wanted but never thought he could have —his princess, happiness, his freedom. Both of your eyes are closed, completely absorbed in the moment, and too focused on each other to notice the way the breeze picks up and plucks periwinkle leaves from their flowers; they swirl around you as you let your affection take over for just a moment. A moment that unbeknownst to you, will turn into another, and another, until the happily ever after both you and Steve have longed for finally arrives. The two of you hand in hand, living a loving, happy, and fulfilling life the kingdom will remember for centuries to come.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington angst

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fireemblems24 · 9 months

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Azure Gleam Ch 9

More Azure Gleam to come. So far it's doing everything I wished AM did or had time for.

STORY

Oh, the title includes "Reunion." I'm guessing Dimitri and Edelgard talk again?

Curious how they'll handle this. Because if Dimitri does talk to her and it becomes clear he's after TWSITD, what does Edelgard do? Keep insisting on war or give up and team up with Dimitri against TWSITD? It's OOC for her to give up and let Rhea and the Kingdom live their lives, but prioritizing killing Dimitri and Rhea above even taking TWSITD down would be, eh, questionable on her end to put it lightly. Really curious to see how the writers deal with this.

The Empire is stalemating at Arianrhod. Shez is worried about supplies, but Dedue thinks they need to prepare more first.

Oh, look at that, Dimitri being smart. He plans on cutting off Edelgard's supply line. Since she only uses one, that's brilliant.

Shez thinks if Dimitri pulls this off, he wins the war.

So I'm betting the big enemy will switch from Edelgard to TWSITD. It would be cool for Edelgard to team up with Dimitri against TWSITD, but I doubt that'll happen. She'll probably die or go and join up with TWSITD or escape but the big focus will still be TWSITD and Edelgard a footnote on the way there, hence powering up the Empire after Dimitri would've otherwise taken them out.

Feels like this is going to end part 1, like how GW just ended.

Oh, Claude!? First time we've seen him in a while in AG. Oh, shit, is Claude going to bail out Edelgard for no real reason except writers said so? Because it would make no sense to help the Imperialists if he wants the Alliance to remain standing.

He's wondering what the Alliance will do, what's best for them and trying to predict who's going to win.

Oh, wow, I really expected AG to get the 1 battle deal this time, but nope. Good.

MAP/SIDE BATTLES

Lamo, Shez thinks one hundred Dimitris would wipe the floor with the Empire.

I got to compliment Dedue. Life complete.

Yuri sold Edelgard a tip about a secret passage. He saying some skeevy stuff about that count. I'm betting we'll recruit him this time. He doesn't seem to like Count Rowe's general dude lol.

Dimitri saying he's not good around children in the expedition dialogue is funny, since it's fairly cannon that they like him.

INGRID & RODRIGUE B SUPPORT

Aww, Ingrid got to return to Fraldarius territory and went down memory lane. Again, another support that reinforces how tied all the Faerghus team are together.

It struggles with having enough food too. I think it's the influx of refugees causing the shortages.

Cool details. There's new shops and good roads.

She finally faced it and wants to keep visiting it. Of course, Rodrigue says she should.

Haha, Ingrid ordered Glenn around. Not surprised.

And Rodrigue says it's ok to show weakness and not just worry about pushing forward. He's such a team dad. And very much in line with the themes in the Blue Lions.

ASHE & DEDUE B SUPPORT

Dedue made his own tea blend!!! Ok, Seteth officially has competition for #1 husbando in Fodlan now.

OFC he made it for Dimitri, lamo.

You would forever be second place to Dimitri with Dedue lol.

The tea reminds Ashe of some Lonato made.

And OFC it's a tea to calm nerves. He made it for Dimitri after all.

ASHE & DIMITRI B SUPPORT

Dimitri is checking on Ashe, esp with his role as a knight. Everyone's been nice to him, which is good, but Ashe is still unsure of himself.

Dimitri pretty much knighted everyone who's now his knights.

Ashe has a more romantic view of knighthood. Someone who's loyal to the king and protects their leader and their people.

Then Dimitri's like, naw, they're here to kill people. Loyalty is only there to control them.

Very in-character for both of them.

Dimitri's like go ahead and follow that code, but don't die for it. Now he's talking about Glenn. And how he wants Ashe to choose life over loyalty.

So THAT'S why Ashe defects. He's so miserable about it.

FUCKING FINALLY. All the points to Ashe. Glenn didn't die because Faerghus is toxic. He died because he wanted to protect his best friend. He argues that there's nothing wrong with that.

Ashe respects Dimitri so much. He's so wholesome.

DEDUE & PETRA B SUPPORT

More language learning lessons. She wants to learn the language to help Brigid diplomatically. It's too bad she can't get a teacher in-house.

Dedue is sorta doing the same for Duscur, though not royalty so not as much power.

Dimitri wants to make Duscur independent again. I'm so glad AG is paying more attention to Duscur.

Petra also realizes that Dedue is more than just Dimitri's bodyguard.

Giving these two a support was a brilliant idea.

DIMITRI & SYLVAIN B SUPPORT

Aww, Dimitri didn't want House Gautier's opinion, but Sylvain's. Their relationship is underrated.

Lamo, Dimitri is speaking with others about bringing commoners into the nobility. This game does a shit job justifying Edelgard's war if everyone is on their way to doing what she's killing them for not doing.

The main concern is lack of crests. And funny that it's Sylvain defending them and Dimitri saying it doesn't matter. The more you learn about Sylvain, the less sense he makes defecting to the Empire.

Lamo, the Kingdom is already discussing the possibility of getting rid of inheritance.

Sylvain only shows the political side of himself to Felix and Dimitri.

I love this support. Dimitri is just showing Sylvain with compliments and expressing how much he relies on Sylvain (which is very healthy for him to admit). Then Sylvain is admiring Dimitri back.

DIMITRI & FELIX B SUPPORT

My first Dimilix support in Hopes. It better be good.

Ah, starts with Felix calling Dimitri an idiot, these two are just so . . . I love them. One of the most complex relationships in all of Fire Emblem. And I live for it.

"Idiot, let me worry for you!!!" Is the most Dimilix(Felix) thing ever.

Felix has a mother, everyone. I think she got mentioned before, but power to her for actually existing!!!

Then Felix gets mad at Dimitri for worrying about him and not his own issues, It's the most Felix ever. And then Dimitri's like, oh, that's not possible.

Oh, no, now Dimitri is going off about revenge. And Felix isn't thrilled about it.

Oh, shit is getting real. Dimitri thinks Felix might hate him because he could do nothing when Glenn died and feels so guilty over it.

Felix "I don't hate you, ok." Haha, I love these two idiots.

Dimitri has such horrible survivor's guilt. He feels so guilty for surviving and that Glenn died protecting him. It makes me wonder what kind of hell his head went through when he thought Dedue died in Houses (or actually does die, including CF). That has to be like worst nightmare shit.

Felix is like, ugh, just eat!!

MAIN BATTLE

Shamir and Catherine! Together, as it should be.

Miklan is here too. Still not sure how to feel about this. Ohh, he's the one who cut ties?

He's starting to come around to liking working for the army though. Shamir called him out for having a bad attitude too lol.

Annette is so much shorter than the rest of the Blue Lions lol. She's standing next to Dedue. Who thought that was a good idea. They can barely fit into the same frame lamo.

So Persuade Shamir and Yuri are strategy options. I was confused until I saw Shamir was an allied general and Yuri an enemy one. Getting to both of them, obviously.

I'm guessing Miklain's death is unavoidable? Eh. Seems pointless to bring him back at all.

Isn't this were Ingrid died in SB? Worst moment in the game so far.

Aha, cool! Cutscene time. And seems it's cannon here that Dimitri defeated Edelgard in combat. He just keeps racking up the badassery in this game.

So glad Dimitri didn't just let her run. So annoying when heroes do that, except Thales is here to fuck things up.

Wait, Edelgard FINALLY told him about Thales? Girl, you (maybe?) could've spared all of Fodlan a lot of pain if you just said that earlier.

Dimitri just whipping the magic away. He's so cool in all of these cutscenes.

Thales bullshit magic abilities ruining a potential team up. (Could they ever? She seems hellbent on taking over his country so . . .)

Oh, hey, hegemon.

AG really is going to go there! TWSITD is really the big bad, not Edelgard. Don't misunderstand, Edelgard is the superior villain. But since Dimitri gets two stories, I'm glad one will focus on TWSITD and (hopefully) send Edelgard to the backseat. Bc him vs her again, what's the point?

Aw, Shez saving Dimitri. These two have such a wholesome relationship. I really like it more than I expected too.

Aww, this stuff with Shez and Dimitri just keeps piling up. Shez feels so worried about having the same powers, but Dimitri just doesn't care. Still trusts her. It's so sweet.

I also love how Shez has some personal involvement in this route. It's kinda missing in the other two.

Dimitri - "I alone-" Felix shuts that down, ofc. Good though. I'm glad seeing Ingrid and Annette speak up. It's obvious to remember how Felix and Dedue got their lives changed, but so glad they called back to what Ingrid and Annette dealt with too.

Felix saying Dimitri's name so soft when he's hurt. My heart.

Oh, Ferdinand's dad, Duke Aegir is now in control? What happened to Edelgard? (also, I sorta love how so many dads got whitewashed, but they went full evil with this guy still lamo).

Is TWSITD controlling Edelgard? Lamo, that's one creative way to write her out of the story without letting her team up with Dimitri or choosing TWSITD over giving up conquest.

(sorry for the weird formatting, some of this is copy and pasted)

xxxxx

#azure gleam #fire emblem #fire emblem three hopes #three hopes #three hopes spoilers #azure gleam spoilers

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sarcastic-sketches · 2 years

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Creche Guardian

Kitsune!Anakin context here but TL:DR a Force Temple takes issue with Anakin’s human form and transforms him into a Kitsune as that’s more becoming of the Chosen One and better reflects his Force connection. Anakin is not impressed.

A side effect no-one expected from Anakin’s transformation was for the younglings in the Creche to love him. They already had childish awe for him on account of all his nonsense and daring feats. He's a General, the Chosen One, and one of the youngest Knighted Jedi. That has many connotations. But most importantly to them, he now comes with massive fluffy tails??

He has to go to the creche as part of his duties after he's knighted to teach them what he has learned to get where he is… only to have about four kids bury their faces in his tails (which now number three) that are built like cushions almost immediately.

Crechemaster: ... Ah Anakin: Help me

There is no escape Skywalker, enjoy your new Creche duties. And he... does?

I've spoken about my thoughts on Anakin burying any parental instincts he might have once had, in another life, but when he tries to pry the kids off of him they are all just so sad. They don't want him to go and jesus christ does Anakin long to be wanted. Even if he’s a little confused by their antics and overwhelmed by all the questions. Of which none have to do with his Knighthood. Kids are simple in comparison to adults so Anakin stays put. Just for this session, he says to himself, only to be found three hours later by Obi-Wan, fast asleep with colourful chalk dusting his fur and children passed out all around him, using the tails as pillows. The Crechemaster looks delighted.

With the transformation, Anakin had slight concerns because he felt that the Kitsune form was actually just a reflection of the monster he could become from within; his propensity for rage and violence. But the kids don’t see a monster. They see a massive fluffy creature who likes to play with them. Anakin has always had mischievious streak, he likes to play games. It goes a long way to helping him accept the more negative parts of himself and that there are always facets of one's being that won’t always be good - it’s how you choose to deal with those faults that matter.

When he eventually develops more tails as the war goes on, he submits to having some of his free time while on leave from the frontlines be in the creche (He’s not as desperate to see Padme in this AU). Sometimes teaching, sometimes helping the Crechmasters wear the more energetic ones out by racing through the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Sometimes just dozing in the middle of a pillow fort, bracketed by his tails on all sides like a padded chair with the younglings haphazardly lying all over them because soft. They feel especially well rested after having a nap on him and seem even more energetic when they wake up, to the Crechemasters consternation. (Like conductive charging your phone but with the literal walking talking Force Nexus)

He has so many little siblings. They’re so small and so fucking funny. He’s realising that kids are hysterical actually and he’s now a big brother to lots of baby Jedi who he can introduce to all the Temple droids, as well as show them all the service tunnels and ventilation routes. He can teach them verbal binary with whistles just to piss off the Crechemaster (revenge for not helping him in the first place) and suddenly all the kids are just conversing in short beeps and trills to a pack of mouse droids.

Anakin: My army grows Mace: Skywalker, for the love of…

Kids are simple, but they are also more delicate and he can’t let his lack of emotional control hurt them. They react poorly to his outbursts of irritation.

Anakin: I'm a monster. I made them cry. Obi-Wan: Ah. What happened? Anakin: Two kids had picked a fight with each other. I tried to separate them but they're so wriggly. I must have lost my temper or gotten snarly because suddenly all of them were crying. Obi-Wan: ... Anakin: I'm awful. How do I fix it? Obi-Wan: If I had known all it would have taken was childcare to get you to learn patience and mindfulness I would have thrown you in there years ago Anakin: You'll help me? Obi-Wan: Anakin, of course I will

Oh man, imagine when he works out how to do illusions.

It would require a level of control he does not currently possess (ever in canon tbh) but he has enough power to make them very convincing. Maybe he practices for the kids? He recreates stories into visual shows, just weak manipulations of light at first but then the more he does it, the more his natural flair comes through and he can make entire productions fill the creche rooms. He bases his stories off of tales his mother used to tell him (given his mother is still alive it's not nearly as traumatic to talk about).

Every Jedi knows that Skywalker is prone to attachments, so obviously him spending so much time with the kids has a lot of them worried but there are new baby force sensitives coming in and younglings are always leaving to become initiates. It gets him used to the idea that though he doesn't see them anymore they're not actually gone. Things come and go with time.

Still, if anyone were to hurt any of the younglings they would have to deal with a very angry, very big Kitsune guarding the doorway and all his many sharp teeth. I’m not saying he’d kill a bitch in the Temple, but the Order would absolutely never see the intruder again.

Kitsune are possessive, they guard what is theirs.

He may or may not skip chances to meet with the Chancellor when he’s planetside simply because he did promise to spend time with the younglings next time he was in the Temple. The Chancellor will understand. You just don’t disappoint kids.

The Chancellor does not understand and actually accuses the Jedi Order of keeping Skywalker from him, only the Council had no idea that Anakin wasn't meeting with the man anymore. Intentionally or not. Obi-Wan may or may not victory-punch the air when he hears the news and goes to spend time in the Creche with Anakin and all his tiny siblings. Anakin has decided that the part of his Kitsune self he wants to embody is the Protective element. He becomes the Big Brother to so many and solidifies his role as a family member within the Order regardless of how he thinks the Council views him. Loyalty secured.

Then there’s Order 66…

There’s AUs where O66 gets prevented because he manages to get his head out of his ass, but what if he does all that, works on himself, finds a place within the Order he’s happy with and O66 happens... anyway? Palpatine was ready to hit the button regardless in RotS, he just wanted to know if Anakin was in or not. In this AU, he most certainly is not. Plus, Palps doesn't have quite the same strangle hold on him as he does in canon. Got nothing to bargain/manipulate him with either since Padme isn’t his secret wife so their relationship wasn’t a card Palpatine thought he could play.

So, O66 happens and people are in the same places as they are in canon. Only when the call gets sent out this time, Anakin is actually in the Temple already. In the Creche. He has to face down against his own men in blue and white, who are not listening to a word he's saying and actively trying to kill him. Him and the younglings he's with.

Anakin is remembering Fives ranting about clones being forced to kill Jedi and wishing he were here now. Fives who is still out there somewhere, having run when Fox conveniently missed his shot but no-one has seen him since. Anakin is thinking of Rex, who is with Ahsoka, and how this could destroy them both. To say he's a little conflicted is an understatement but it probably only takes one very near shot at one of the kids for Anakin to bug out.

You do not go after his kids.

He doesn't normally go full fox mode in the halls anymore because he's gotten fairly big, but it certainly works as a body shield to stop any more shots making it through while he shepherds all the younglings into the ventilation system where the clones can’t follow. Anakin tries to go easy on his men, incapacitate rather than kill because he knows what is wrong here, but good god they are not making that easy and he is so very angry.

It doesn’t occur to him, until much later, that he referred to the younglings as his kids. Those parental instincts hit him hard.

When he feels it’s safe to do so he follows the younglings he squirrelled away by going Teeny Fox Mode and finds them all huddled together at a junction. They’ve met with a couple of Padawans whose Masters had also yeeted them to safety and a group of Initiates who have learnt the value of hiding in the ventilation system from Ahsoka Tano (It’s the Gathering gang, I love them so sue me). As a Knight, they kind of all default to Anakin to know what to do and there are not a lot of options. They can’t stay in the vents forever and they have to get off Coruscant, but to do that they need a ship big enough to cart all of them away that can leave atmo.

Then he remembers there's a Paladin-class corvette being retrofitted as the new Crucible ship in the hangar. The hangar is not as empty as he would like when they get there but the Crucible II is still there and he’s got no other choice but to chance it.

He can now use every trick he’s ever learned to get the clones patrolling there to leave; his illusions, better force control, himself as a meat shield. All to get the kids into a transport and the fuck off Coruscant. Ganodi mentions she has flight sim training and is immediately put in the co-pilot seat. They miss Bail arriving at the Temple by a few minutes as they leave the planet and jump to hyperspace. Anakin wants to find Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Padme, and Rex. Anakin has no idea what Palpatine has done at this point all he knows is he is now responsible for these baby Jedi and needs help. Please someone help him.

He’s covered in blaster burns, very confused, angry, and sad all at once. One of the Padawans, suggests naptime in a fit of hysteria and Anakin thinks that’s the best idea he’s ever heard. Ship wide naptime. Sure, why not.

#Kitsune!Anakin #star wars #star wars au #sw au #Anakin Skywalker #star wars writing #I've been looking forward to posting this one #order 66

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atopvisenyashill · 4 months

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Getting a Shella Whent AND an Anya Waynwood shout out in the same chapter was like catnip to me, a person obsessed with women who rule in Westeros.

I also think it’s super interesting how Anya Waynwood’s sons are all kinda old - her heir, Morton, puts himself forward for Lysa’s hand - yet it’s Anya that is clearly head of House Waynwood, which probably means two of our most forefront examples of women ruling in their own right are Jeyne Arryn and Anya Waynwood, both in the Vale. And you have female line inheritance with Harry Hardyng as well, fostering with a ruling lady. The Vale prides itself on its chivalry and its knighthood but unlike the Reach, which is often also considered very "conservative" (likely as a sort of culture war esque backlash to the Marches and their rivalry with Dorne), the Vale is almost unique in having female line inheritance that is actually followed (unlike in the North, which talks a big game about daughters coming before uncles yet has two infamous usurpations in its history) or even ruling women.

There's something to be said about a people whose ruling family dies off so often that even with male preference primogeniture and a number of rebellions against Jeyne Arryn, they've been forced to take the more pragmatic approach of "well the boys are all dead so we best raise our girls well so they're not idiots and can rule." I think the geography really shapes this approach - it's difficult to get to the seat of House Arryn, it's difficult to travel through the Vale period, and like the North, they have to deal with Wildlings as an added threat the Reach doesn't have to deal with (because it's notable that Dorne is a lot more centralized in its rule than either group of Wildlings! The issues in the Marches are cultural and border disputes, which is different than like, two groups of people descended from the same common ancestor getting into issues without any sort of negotiations going on. The Dornish Conquest was bloody and violent and had war crimes on both sides, but there was parlaying and attempts at peace that there just isn't between the Vale and the Wildlings, or the North and Wildlings [until Jon sticks his nose in it, anyway, and I do imagine the Vale Wildlings are about to stick their nose in some shit too]).

#valyrianscrolls #anya waynwood #jeyne arryn #shella whent #the vale #house arryn #obviously this is a narrative choice but i do wonder *why* it feels like the arrryns die so often lajdfskd. they don't seem any more inbred #than any other house in westeros and they arent on the extreme of the targs either. just bad luck and some hapsburg ass genes i guess #getting on my soap box #this is just some real slap dash thoughts as i'm reading btw so i'm misremembering something like when i forget the vale as a whole is not #called the eyrie sorry llmao #rani liveblogs asoiaf

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theoutcastrogue · 6 months

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youtube

Terry Jones’ Medieval Lives Episode 7: The Outlaw

Outside the law

“We like to think of the story of the outlaw as a black and white tale of goodies and baddies. The reality was less clear cut. During the Middle Ages the very notion of what an outlaw was changed dramatically and so did the legal system the outlaws sought to avoid.

In Anglo-saxon England, people had been accustomed to administering the law themselves, a sort of neighborhood watch. But with this big difference - you could make money out of it. You see, the Anglo-saxons weren’t particularly bothered about punishments. What interested them was victim compensation.”

“Back then to be declared an outlaw was a fearful thing indeed. People then lived in small, self-regulating communities, and to be excluded was like being sent into exile. Worse, an outlaw was a wolf’s head, someone who could be killed on sight. They were forced to live a life on the run, outside normal society.

But in 1066, England became an occupied nation. A legal system that depended on the cooperation of the conquered with their conquerors was simply not going to work. So the Normans introduced certain legal refinements such as collective punishment and trial by battle.”

“If that was Norman justice, the Normans could keep it. Well, that’s what many Anglo-saxons seemed to think. And they chose to be outlawed rather than stand trial. By 1150 the whole legal system had collapsed so Henry II totally reinvented it, developing a legal process unique to England which put power back in the hands of the local community. Trial by jury.”

“With people rushing to court to sue each other [even] over hedge clippings, more and more people were failing to turn up to trial and consequently being outlawed for non-attendance. By the mid-14th century, almost everybody seems to get outlawed at some point in their lives. It was no big deal. It was a bit like having your credit card refused.”

Into the forest

“A forest was simply wherever Forest Law applied. It was policed by an army of royal officials who ruthlessly enforced the draconian penalties for poaching imposed by the king. Richard I set the penalty for killing deer as removal of eyes and testicles. In lots of ways the deer of the forest had more rights and privileges than the locals who lived around it.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons why the Robin Hood stories were so popular. They celebrated a time before the conquest when the forests were a place of freedom. Since the Normans, the forest has become a place of repression and brutal punishment. But once people had been free to hunt and gather wood here and that was never forgotten.”

“The story of Robin Hood wove together the myth of pre-conquest freedom together with the later myths of chivalry and knighthood. The English actually celebrated being a land of bold robbers.”

The Rogue adds: The episode also tackles: prisons, sanctuary, litigiousness, execution methods, and the complicated relation between gentry, robbers and knights (in any combination). The whole series is hilarious, and mostly accurate. I’m also very fond of the Knight episode.

My only comment is that celebrating your bold robbers is hardly an English peculiarity. And while outlaws’ legends are often influenced by a warrior culture of some sort, said warrior culture need not be chivalry. This is a widespread phenomenon that can be found in all corners of the earth, from China (Water Margin) to Brazil (cangaceiros) to Australia (bushrangers) to the Balkans (hajduks/klephts and so on) to right next door (rapparees).

#recreated old post #terry jones #outlaw #theory #trs #robin hood

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ruckis-vandalizes · 6 months

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New Beanish OC alert!!! :0

If you're interested, here's what I got figured out of their backstory and junk down below:

Keeharl was born with a gift, at first unknown to them or their parents. They had many strange abilities such as being able to communicate with all living creatures, and more that Keeharl would find out about later in life. For a very long time the extent to their abilities was unknown, and most bewildering, neither of their parents held any of the same abilities. No signs of magic. So when Keeharl's parents did find out about them their expectations were set high for their little Beanish.

They pushed them to become a part of the royal guard, thinking that their magic could do some good for the kingdom's defenses. But Keeharl never found interest in any of that, no, their gaze fell upon the joys that were tv, cartoons, circus shows, theater, and so on. Keeharl wanted to create laughter, not violence. But their parents persevered, pulling their attention away from the big screen (both metaphorically and literally) and once more pushed him to be a knight.

Sign ups for Keeharl went about as well as you would expect for someone who had a relatively sedimentary life. It all went horribly for them at first, but then something clicked in their mind. Recalling back to all the times they had watched cartoons about heroes and warriors, astoundingly using entertainment as reference improved their performance greatly. They wormed their way into knighthood, and yet it was still a job they didn't much care for. They used their position in hopes of seeing if they couldn't get closer to the royal court. To see if they couldn't work their way into the position of court jester.

It never happened, nay. Left working a job they didn't want at the top of their class. Until what became a dooming event for most became a miracle for them. (this is where it goes into hc M&L history territory) During the big war between the Green Beanish and the Vampiric Beanish, Keeharl had come face to face with the ancient Dragohoho that laid waste to half of Oho Oasis' ocean and made what we know as Teehee Valley. To their dismay fancy swords don't do much for giant ancient dragons, and they were one of the first to fall. More specifically they had gotten much too close and was swiftly eaten.

Their armor had protected them for so long, but being weary they had collapsed for some time. When they awoke they were still alive and in the belly of the beast. using their magic they forced the Dragohoho to laugh until it's stomach hurt, causing it to cough up Keeharl. Reasonably the Dragohoho was confused and bewildered, but was quickly replaced by frustration. With some scrapes and some impressive acrobatics Keeharl managed to survive the dragon's wrath long enough to communicate with them and convince them to talk.

As it turns out the Dragohoho was tired of the racket the war was making and wanted to try and disrupt it. It expressed feelings of disgust, as the Green Beanish were repeating what had happen to its kind as well. Pushing them into hiding so they could expand, deeming them dangerous. It's kind is rarely ever seen, and hardly has the room to grow. Keeharl saw this as a once and a life time opportunity. After all they were sick of their job as a knight. They struck a deal. If they can form a partnership the Dragohoho would get their penance, and Keeharl would finally be able to get the spotlight they so desperately desired.

Their bond grew over the years, Keeharl and the dragon. they've even babysat for the little hatchling once or twice. The years passed with them being thought dead, only to rear their heads years later with a new gig. After befriending many a beasty, making their own weapons and devices, and honing their magic, they appear every now and then to wreak havoc on towns and villages for their own entertainment. Masking themselves and taking up the name Hecklensnyde, they commit acts of destruction with circus acts, monsters, and magic tricks. One of their favorites is using the Beanish's most precious things against them: laughter. They force their enemies to laugh so hard that they become virtually immobilized, unable to do anything else and watch as they destroy without rhyme or reason. No goal in mind, just their on whims.

In the end they're just a Beanish so far gone in their own delusion, living out what they saw behind a glass screen in hopes of achieving their own game of cat and mouse. All just for a farce. Awaiting a hero come and stop them. for as whimsically uncaring as they may seem, at least they're still nice to the beasts they befriended. They might as well be one their selves. Perhaps, it's a message about changing the formality... perhaps not.

#ruckis vandalizes #mario and luigi rpg #beanish oc #keeharl #smb #mario oc #art #artists on tumblr #digital drawing

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

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Player Home: Valeview Keep

Sometimes moving up in the world feels almost intangible. Other times it’s quite literal, involving hauling all your worldly possessions up a cliff and a dizzying number of stares to make yourself at home in your new tower. Oh your knees will hate you, for sure, but the new scenery is more than worth it.

Setup: After impressing the local nobility, the party are rewarded with a keep and the knighthood that goes with it, signaling their progression from common sellswords to champions of the realm. As castles go, Valeview keep is a stout and sturdy construction, built to survey a winding river and the prosperous trade settlement that sits upon it. Garrisoning a small force of fast-response cavalry, the keep was meant to act as a sort of feudal fire-station, sighting dangers throughout the valley and dispatching those who might be able to help as fast as possible. Living side by side with these soldiers at arms is likely to color the party’s time at Valeview with a sense of duty and camaraderie, as these brave souls deal with the wandering monsters and petty squabbles while letting the party concentrate on the big picture.

Hooks:

Knighthood will bring an unexpected number of benefits to the party’s lives, ranging from the yearly income of surrounding lands to invitations to every mid-range feast and tourney in the duchy. This will give the party a chance to hobnob with nobles, warriors, and socialites alike, and will introduce them to a whole new tier of adventure hook they’d never have access to as simple freelancers.

There may be an adjustment period as the party adapts to lives of peerage while the Valeview outriders get used to having to actually answer to someone. Pranks may be played, Crude caricature graffitid in out of the way corners of the keep, maybe even a cutting nickname or two. The means to overcoming this tension is for the party to demonstrate to the garrison that they’re not just some lordly brownnosers who’ve been handed their position and join the outriders on one of their hunts. A few outings helping to Keep local monster populations in check and tracking outlaws through the mud will convince the hardriding warriors that their new keepmates are on the up and up, especially when an unusually strong beast wanders in from the deep wilds and throws what might’ve been a routine patrol into chaos.

War is brewing on the continent, and while the dukes, ambassadors, and spies busy themselves with the grand chessgame of tactics and diplomacy, the party are faced with the challenge of defending their valley from enemy incursion. Before hostilities officially break out, foreign scouts sweep through the valley looking for weaknesses and tactical advantages, while their commander has devised a clever plan to keep the party and their outriders occupied: securing the loyalty of a plunder hungry giant by the name of Thognar and letting him maraud through the region like a living war engine. The party will hear whispers of conflict and spies mere days before the giant bursts onto the scene, ripping merchant barges from the river and burning cottages to keep warm at night, but it may take a direct conflict with the brute to realize that he has received both armor and orders from foreign hands.

Thognar is too tough to take down in a single skirmish, so the party’s primary means of dispatching the giant might be angering him enough to pursue them back to Valveview keep and wearing him down from behind their fortifications. This will involve a breakneck chase across the valley, then drawing the giant inside the sturdy stone fortifications where their courtyard can act as a killbox.

Ameanities & Upgrades

Captain Winnry Morgale acts as the party’s Castellan, commanding the garrison while the heroes are away and ensuring Valeview remains in fighting shape. An older soldier and local to the valley, Morgale is loyal and fastidious in her duties but is having trouble adjusting to life out of the saddle after suffering an injury while fending off a grey render some years ago. Morgale had been one of Valveview’s most longserving riders and had to be forcefully promoted to majordomo to allow her to recover, an elevation that mirrors the party’s own unexpected rise in station. Perhaps commiserating about their shared feeling of undeserved ascension over a cool mug of ale will help the party break through the captain’s stern and subordinate outer shell and win the heart of the garrison to their side.

Key to Valeview’s functioning as an early response system is a series of watchtowers and beacons throughout the valley, which can be sighted from the keep’s tall tower without needing to wait for a messenger to make the miles long trek from the far peaks. Over the years of wear this system has begun to wear down, from beacon towers being neglected as funds have tightened, to a general shortage of manpower . Should the party devote some of their feudal funds towards refurbishing the beacon system ( as well as clearing out the few beast dens that’ve popped up in the meantime), they’ll eventually be approached by a goblin engineer by the name of Ruphyllis Glinnt who’s had an idea on improving the beacon system by replacing the cumbersome bonfires with a system of lenses and mirrors. Ruphyllis does indeed know what he’s doing, but he’s been co-opted by a gang con-artists that’re using the debts he worked up on other projects to exploit his cleverness.

Now that they’re in possession of a knightly domicile, the party will need a staff, cooks and cleaners, grooms and valets, the dozens of hardworking individuals that make any castle run. Thankfully they’ll have help organizing this hydra of domestic chaos in the form of their new steward: Idius Spry, a fanciful gnomish gentleman who’s been a fixture in their liege’s household for generations. While helpful in the extreme and quick with a joke, Spry is infact reporting the goings on of Valeview back to the party’s liege, ensuring that these mercurial adventurers stick to their new sworn duties as feudal vassals.

#mid level #player home #home base #homesteading #fortress #highlands #nobility #monster hunt #warfare #fighter #ranger #dnd #dungeons and dragons #adventure #5e homebrew #homebrew adventure #giant

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kcrabb88 · 7 months

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QuinObi Week

Day 2: Knighthood/Raising Padawans

Christ You'll Be The Death of Me

Summary: A year after Qui-Gon's death, Obi-Wan struggles with resurgent grief and worries he's not doing enough for the Padawan he adores. When Aayla comms him to help an injured Quinlan after an ambush in the lower levels, Obi-Wan comes to the rescue. As it turns out, Quinlan might be doing some rescuing, too. or Aayla and Anakin are siblings, and Quinlan knows Obi-Wan really, really well.

“Why are you undressing?”

“Normally you like it when I do this.”

“Quinlan.”

“There may be”—Quinlan winces, putting a hand to his side—“a small, no big deal sort of thing right under my ribs that I didn’t tell Aayla about. I injured about half the dealers before the mostly useless cops showed up, and one of them got me as he went down.”

Quinlan shifts his tunics to the side, and Obi-Wan understands what he means. Just beneath the right side of his ribcage, there’s a long, thin cut. Not as jagged as the one on his arm, or as deep, but close enough to other, more vital organs.

“Quinlan.”

“You would have done the same thing so Anakin didn’t worry,” Quinlan shoots back. “I’ll be fine. If there’s problems tomorrow I’ll go to the Halls, okay? I’ll let Vokara or Bant or another healer yell at me for waiting. I trust you, though, yeah?”

#These two #QuinObi Week #Quinlan Vos #Obi-Wan Kenobi #QuinObi #ObiQuin

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smilesrobotlover · 15 days

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So for King of the Gerudo you brought up some world building ideas involving the Knights and Maiden titles being the highest honor someone can get, and the Champions being the first examples of non Hylians getting those titles. And as a fellow over thinker in world building, I just can't help but wonder about the different responses people would have to it.

How would the Hylians feel, would they feel it's more deserved and fine, given then Champions had helped save them all during the Calamity, or are there some spiteful ones who see it as an insult to Hylian customs and traditions. Has this spiraled into some people doubting Zelda's choice on the matter, thinking she's putting emotion over reason, choosing to give her friends better titles and disregard their traditions.

Or the Zora and the Rito, both of whom seem to be a little more honor bound. Would some of the more older Zora see it as a passive aggressive way for the Hyrulean Monarch to reiterate that their own Princess is below that of Zelda and the King of Hyrule, that a maiden is still one level below them? Would it lead to people questioning King Dorephan's more passive nature, that perhaps he isn't as outspoken for the Zora's 'honor'? How would the Rito respond to this, who seem to have a little more pride towards their dominion over the sky and their superior archery skills? Is it an insult that Revali was ranked alongside a princess, chieftain, and lord as if a way to cheaply elevate him, almost like a participation trophy?

Or how about some of the Yiga, noting how Impa was dubbed a Maiden but Kogha, in spite of his 'brave' defiance to Ganon, wasn't. Maybe now there are some Yiga who consider this a slight towards them, spawning a very small group of defecting Yiga going against the greater Yiga's reintegration into Hyrulesl's greater collective.

Idk, I'm definitely overthinking all of this and none of this needs answers or any thought put into it, but dang did my brain go a little overboard as I dreamed of this 😅

Oooh yes it’ll be a huge deal. I haven’t thought about the zora situation, but it makes perfect sense! It’s strange how Zelda and Rhoam seem to be of higher authority than Dorephan and mipha, and I think that with the status of a champion and a maiden, a lot of zora will be mad. Idk about the Rito tho, I think they’ll be happy that they’re finally out there, and some Rito may believe that they may be able to reach knighthood or maidenhood someday. But I know some will be upset that it was Revali to be called. But I won’t get into that drama UwU

Some Hylians will be VERY upset about all of this. The people already doubt Zelda’s ability to lead, and to see her accept non Hylians as knights and maidens will seem like breaking tradition, or even blasphemous. Now the soldiers who worked close to her won’t care. They saw how she led battling the calamity, and how she cared for each soldier, so they trust her. But a lot of people like the many gossipers will be upset. They’ll think that Hylians will never have a chance to be called as a knight or a maiden ever again (which isn’t true, those aren’t easy titles to achieve anyways).

Another thing is that it sorta breaks the mold. Knights are meant to parallel the hero, and tho he has a lot of magic, for a lot of incarnations like AOC link, he mostly just uses his fighting skills, not magic. And so to see knights that are proficient at magic will be a big deal, and many people will think that they’re not worthy of a knightly title because of it. Same thing with the maidens. Urbosa, Mipha, and Impa are magically gifted, but they are also very strong fighters. Take away their magic and they’ll still kick your butts. So many people that they’re not worthy of the title of a maiden because of that.

And the yiga…. Oh man… there will be drama with the yiga, and I’m sure a lot of them will be upset, but Impa never defied the Royal family, so she and Kogha’s situation aren’t similar enough to me to cause too much drama. It’s just another instance of the Sheikah being loved by the royal family and not the yiga (but the yiga kinda did that to themselves lol. But I have many thoughts on the yiga for sure)

But yeah overall mostly Hylians and zora will be offended by this. Everyone else may be excited that they’ll have a chance to reach knighthood and maidenhood.

#the people look up to Rhoam more so he’ll really try to take the heat of it all and tell people to calm down #but yeah drama ✨#asks #king of the Gerudo

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rebelsofshield · 1 year

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Tales of the Jedi Season Two Wishlist

We all learned last week that the animated anthology series Tales of the Jedi will be returning for a second season. While we currently don’t have any indication of what Jedi will be spotlighted in this round of short films, I do have a few hopes for potential selections. Tales of the Jedi feels like a prime opportunity to either shine the light on members of the Order that have yet to receive their moment in the spotlight or to fill in important gaps in major characters’ storylines that likely would go untouched otherwise. Here are some of my preferred candidates.

Quinlan Vos

Quinlan Vos feels like one of the most appropriate picks for a Tales of the Jedi style project. Not only was he set to have a pretty major unproduced story in The Clone Wars’ pre-cancellation plans that would have also concluded Asajj Ventress’ character arc, but also, thanks to last years’ Obi-Wan Kenobi show, is a confirmed survivor of Order 66. Episodes centered on Quinlan could serve as a visual remake of the Dark Disciple novel which adapted his original Clone Wars storyline or alternatively could show us what his life looks before, during, and after the Purge. There’s so much potential storytelling present for this fan favorite character and the Lucasfilm animation team would be smart to give Vos his moment in the spotlight.

Barriss Offee

Barriss Offee’s betrayal of the Jedi Order is one of the most consequential plot points from The Clone Wars that has yet to be touched upon in the current canon. This year marks the ten year anniversary of the incredible season five arc that saw Ahsoka framed for her former friends attacks on the Jedi Temple in Coruscant, so what better time to finally check back in on Barriss. Episodes could explore Barriss’ disillusionment with the Jedi Order, her relationship with her Master Luminara Unduli, and finally provide answers on what exactly happened to her after she was carted off by the Jedi Temple’s guards.

Mace Windu

For being one of the most important Jedi to the Prequel Era, there is relatively little canon media that centers Mace Windu. While comics and novels have teased aspects of Windu’s childhood and training, Tales of the Jedi is a great opportunity to offer a more detailed exploration of this Master’s upbringing, Knighthood, and position as a member of the Jedi Council. It affords the opportunity to showcase the complicated emotions of and morality of a character that is often dismissed as cold or uncaring by some fans. Windu clearly holds a great deal respect and love for both the Order and the Republic as a whole and I would love to see that shown and expanded on screen.

Luke Skywalker

Given the wealth of canon media that already exists, Luke Skywalker is far from my first pick for a Tales of the Jedi story, but there is a chunk of time between Return of the Jedi and The Mandalorian (and its spin offs) where his life feels relatively uncharted and unexplored. While it may make sense to hold off on showing Luke’s training of Ben Solo or other events more directly tied to the Sequel Trilogy until a later time, I would love to see a series of shorts showcasing his life immediately after the fall of the Empire. In particular, maybe we could finally see that first meeting between him and Ahsoka Tano that was teased in The Book of Boba Fett. Thematically, I would also love to really explore how Luke grappled with his father’s legacy and that of the Jedi Order. And as an added bonus, it presents the perfect opportunity to bring Mark Hamill back on board to play the character one last time in a way that isn’t an uncomfortable deep fake.

Rey/Finn

So we now know for sure that we will be seeing Rey’s New Jedi Order on the big screen at some point in the next few years. But given that there’s going to be a fifteen year time jump between The Rise of Skywalker and whatever film marks Daisy Ridley’s return, Tales of the Jedi has plenty of space to showcase the very early days of Rey’s Order and her training of Finn. We’ve already seen glimpses of this period in the semi-canon Lego specials on Disney+ but it would be a perfect opportunity to give fans of these characters a more concrete glimpse into their shared future. And maybe we could get Daisy Ridley and John Boyega back to voice their characters? Wouldn’t that be incredible?

#Star Wars #Tales of the Jedi #Mace Windu #Quinlan Vos #Barriss Offee #Luke Skywalker #Finn #Rey #Rey Skywalker #reviews #review #commentary

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ecoamerica · 25 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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librosamarillos · 1 year

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passed down like folk songs

chapter 10: safe in a fantasy

Maegor Targaryen x OC

Also on Ao3

chapter index

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI, NSFW chapter!

took me a while but here we are!

The Red Keep was not yet complete, but still had enough room for them to stay. Maegor felt it would be better, as Dragonstone was far too intimate. He was the prince of Dragonstone, it was his birthright, it was his home, it was a part of him he wanted to keep to himself. Ceryse had been quite ill since they had returned to the capital, his mother had hoped it was the early signs of pregnancy, but a visit from Grand Maester Gawen proved it was just a simple fever she would get over. He didn’t blame her, the change must’ve been quite jarring. He finally understood why Rowan always preferred Oldtown to King’s Landing, the city was beautiful compared to the clumsy, evergrowing capital.

As the weeks went by, he was trying to keep his anger at bay, but it was becoming more and more difficult. Maegor tried not to resent his wife, he really did. After all, Ceryse didn’t want this either- they were stuck with each other. He tried to get to know her, to at least become her friend, just as she had asked him, just as his mother had asked him, but it all felt so bitter. Everytime he learned something new about her when they dined together, he would hold his breath. She had so much, too much in common with Rowan, to the point where it was a constant reminder of who he almost had. This constant almost was driving him insane, suffocating him. They both loved the seven, Ceryse would also go to the sept on the same days Rowan did, how they were interested in the same topics of study, how her favourite book was one Rowan had mentioned a few times- it was too much.

It was cruel of him perhaps, but he avoided her. If it hurt Ceryse, she didn’t show it. He had hoped she didn’t mind that he only visited her at night. It angered him how good sex felt, but he could find ways to make it more bearable. If he took her on her knees, he didn’t have to look at her, he could close his eyes and pretend. She didn’t seem to mind it, perhaps even preferred to not have to look at him. She seemed satisfied at the end, he could at least tell himself that.

If he were to be King, he’d need an heir. To take the throne without one would cast uncertainty upon him. He was visiting Ceryse most nights of the week, he’d have one soon. Another bittersweet thought. He had longed for fatherhood. He hated how jealous he was of his brother, seeing him with his three children, playing, laughing. He had told himself he would give Rowan that big family she always wanted and he’d be the one playing with his sons and daughters, helping them walk and talk, watching them grow up… But now he had to deal with the cards he’s been given. Despite it not being with Rowan, he would love all his children and never put them through what his father put him through.

These days he had thrown himself into his knighthood, earning himself a ruthless reputation, one he’d need to gain support in the future. In the days he’d train and fight, in the nights he’d dine with and sleep with Ceryse, then finally lie awake in his chambers, staring at the ceiling. Things would get better, they had to. She wasn’t a bad person, she just wasn’t Rowan, and that wasn’t her fault. But he’d make her a Queen, hopefully that would make things more bearable for her as well.

He sighed, turning to his bedside table, opening the drawer, grabbing the newest, and possibly last thing in his collection. The handkerchief with her lip stain from that night. It still smelled like her, he was careful with it, it was too precious. He pressed his lips onto it, closing his eyes to imagine, to not forget what her soft lips felt like. He didn’t feel guilty about it anymore. In his eyes, this was the most intimate way he could have her, he didn’t care if it was dirty and obsessive. It was all he had of her now, he would cherish all the little stolen pieces.

Maegor lowered his trousers and removed his shirt. He wasted no time to pump himself hard with a low groan. He only felt comfortable making any noise all alone, with only his Rowan in his mind, imagining what delicious sounds she’d be making. In this fantasy, he felt safe. In his dreams, she’d be on her knees, giving him that innocent look while caressing his cock, trying to take him all in with a moan. He’d grab a fistful of her curls, helping guide her, relishing in her moans around him vibrating. He let out another growl, his cock now covered in his precum. He thought of how much he wanted to grab onto her breasts, to play with them, to lick them up while she fell apart under him. He knew she’d feel so soft, it was torture. Her hands were always so soft, thanks to her creams, he wanted to feel them all over him, in contrast to his own rough hands. That sweet scent of jasmine sent him to his release with a low moan.

It was a relief before a hot bath. He’d help her wash her hair, with those expensive soaps and oils she loved so dearly. She’d kiss him, she loved the kisses, he wouldn’t forget how eager and excited she was that night. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her. He sighed again.

Ceryse didn’t expect to feel so literally homesick to the point of a fever. She thanked the seven it was gone within a few days. At least she had a bit of an excuse to not have to interact with her new family that much. Things were now official. This was her home now, for the rest of her days. Maegor was Prince of Dragonstone, but he made it clear they were to stay in the capital. She could make peace with that. Alyssa was kind, making a point to at least chat with her when they crossed paths. Aenys did so as well, they both made for great company. They had mentioned they were to go on a royal progression around the realm in a few moons, wanting to bring along little Rhaena and Aegon, baby Viserys being way too little to be far from home for half a year.

She dreaded their departure, as she saw them as the only approachable people in her new family. Her husband did his best to avoid her and she was almost happy about it. Things were awkward when they tried to talk, but it was something. At least the sex was good. He asked her about herself a bit, but he never talked about himself. She concluded that his relationship with his family was very strained, save for his mother.

The Queen had requested they break their fast together and she was beyond nervous. Part of her hoped that Maegor would join them, but then again, how much help would he provide? She was dressed in her most proper of morning dresses, paying extra attention to appear perfect, for fear the Queen would find any flaw to chastise her for. She hadn’t given her any reason for this fear, but she also never had a full conversation with her, and she’d been married to her son for a moon and a half.

She followed the maid to the Queen’s chambers in complete silence, trying to appear calm as she presented herself to her goodmother, who was already sitting at the table, in front of her a ridiculous amount of food. Ceryse courtsied, offering her a small smile.

“Goodmorning, your grace.”

“Come, join me.” she said, gesturing at the chair across from her.

The maid left, closing the door behind her, leaving Ceyse to walk to her seat nervously. Queen Visenya seemed to be in a pleasant mood, easing her worry a bit.

“I trust you’re feeling better now?”

“Yes, your grace, all is well now.”

“Good.” she said. “How are you finding King’s Landing?”

“It’s a lovely city. The palace is gorgeous, I’m sure it’ll be even more beautiful once it’s finished.” Ceryse smiled.

“And Maegor? How are you finding life with him so far?”

The question made her freeze a bit, hoping the Queen did not notice, or at least would not bring it up. How did she find life with him? If she was honest he was just the man she slept with and had awkward chats before the act. She barely knew anything about him, but it felt like he was interrogating her. Of course she wouldn’t tell her that.

“He’s a gentleman.” she concluded.

He was cordial enough to not be brutal with her, the way she heard many husbands were with their wives. He did his duty and left. What more could she expect? He was no charming lord that she would hope to end up with, but here they were. The Queen seemed sceptical, but said nothing. She knew her son better than anyone, it was obvious that he was no gentleman, but what answer was she truly expecting? Visenya was quiet for a bit longer, as if waiting for Ceryse to continue, but she had nothing to add. She barely knew the man.

“I’m glad you two are getting along.” she didn’t sound convinced at all.

Ceryse only nodded, taking a bite of her bread, trying to pretend the air wasn’t awkward.

“I heard you’re acquainted with some ladies in court, Lady Tyrell was it?”

“Yes, Lady Lana and Lady Rowan, I’ve known them for quite some time.”

Queen Visenya paused again for a moment, her eyes scanning her face, her mouth trying not to form a frown. Did she not approve?

“Is something the matter, your grace?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“It’s good that you’re making friends.” the Queen replied plainly.

Another brief silence. Ceryse was confused. Why did the Queen even invite her for breakfast when she so clearly did not want her there? Her expression became unreadable, leaving her to worry if she had accidentally done something to offend her, but she tried to focus on the fruits on her plate, so she could eventually be excused.

The Queen took a sip of her water, her deep violet eyes scanning her gooddaughter up and down, making Ceryse want to sink into her seat, no matter how unladylike. Her gaze was cold and harsh, as if she was telling her she disapproved of her without having to say the words. It was unnerving, for what had she done to garner such hostility? She was not the one who pursued her son, nor the one who suggested this, though she supposed her uncle would be considered part of her for the Queen. The silence felt deafening, making her want to say something to break it, but it would be quite rude of her to do so.

“Things might be distant for you and Maegor now, but it will be better once you have children. They will bring you two closer.” the Queen concluded.

Ceryse supposed that was true. Once they had children, she’d have someone else to completely focus on and, as rude as it was to think, she could ignore Maegor. He still scared her, if she was honest. But she tried not to think about it much, seeing as soon she would be with child, with the rate he was visiting her to try for one.

“I’m sure that will be the case, my Queen.” Ceryse said, offering her a kind smile.

She supposed this was her trying to reassure her, in some strange way, that things would be alright. Ceryse couldn’t be sure. Both the Queen and the King were so strange to her. They were unlike anyone else she’d ever met, but she supposed that was the way of Old Valyria, or something of that sort. She thought maybe for them, the rest of Westeros was a strange place.

After the painfully awkward breakfast, Ceryse found relief in the gardens, which were still unfinished but lovely nonetheless. Lana Tyrell was great company, always fun and cheerful, brightening the day.

“I do not envy you. The whole thing sounds painful, if I’m honest.” Lana said, twirling a curl of her long brown hair, that was always so shiny.

“It’s alright, I’ll get used to it eventually. I just hope all goes smoothly.” Ceryse sighed. “Let’s talk of something lighter.”

“Hmm… Let’s see… Oh! Have you heard about that Tully squire?”

Time didn’t feel real since the wedding. Her father tried taking her around Oldtown, visiting some cousins, sitting by the sea, but he could tell his daughter was being weighed down by the sadness. Rowan felt truly empty, not having the energy she used to, losing appetite, wishing to spend all day in bed. Coming home was the best thing she could ask for, feeling the safety of the familiar warmth of her room gave her a tiny bit of comfort. She tried her best to not let her pain show, not wanting to make her family worry, but Erin always saw right through her.

Erin was just two years younger than her, but they always seemed to be on the same page. They were truly like sisters- all of her cousins felt like her siblings. Her family was the most precious in her heart and she would hate to worry them. Her father was already worried enough. It made her feel so guilty, that her sorrow was dragging him along, and now Erin took notice. From the second she stepped foot back home, she knew something was wrong and was not buying the excuse that she was just exhausted from the long trip.

Rowan held the blankets close, not wanting to leave her tear stained pillow. She finally felt safe enough to cry, to mourn, as the days went by and she wouldn’t wake up from the nightmare, her bed was her safe haven. She still had her things to unpack, but perhaps she would wait, to use it as an excuse if she felt too overwhelmed around everyone, especially Erin, who would soon be asking questions. She was too afraid to say things out loud, for fear it would make the pain even worse, but she couldn’t avoid it for much longer.

“Do you plan on staying in there forever?” Erin asked from the door.

Rowan let out a sigh. There was no running now.

“I’m still tired, I’ll come downstairs in a bit.” she said, hoping her cousin wouldn’t push.

Erin closed the door and her footsteps were coming closer to the bed. Rowan felt her weight on the bed and turned to lay on her back, just as Erin was. They both laid there in silence for some time, only the sound of the birds chirping outside filling the air.

“Will you tell me what happened?” her cousin whispered.

Rowan shrugged. She never told anyone of her feelings, the only one aware being her father, who swore he wouldn’t tell. Erin knew she had a crush on someone in the capital, but she never opened up about it. She trusted her cousin, truly, but it was still a scary thing to confess out loud. But would someone even want to hear of her shattered heart? How she missed him beyond any words could ever describe and how much it felt like a stab to the heart to see him wed to someone else? Just thinking about it would be enough to reduce her to tears again.

“Did something happen in Oldtown?” she asked.

“It happened far before Oldtown. It’s a long story.” she replied.

Maybe it would be best if she told someone not so involved. Maybe it would even be cathartic.

“I’ve got no plans for a few days.” Erin smiled.

“Well…” she trailed.

So she told her everything. About the crush she had on the Prince of Dragonstone that grew into the strongest most pure love she’d ever felt in her entire life, about all the little things about him that made her swoon, about their kiss after the ball, the promise of them marrying, then when reality beat the all hope out of her, about the hell it was to watch him say those vows she dreamed of to someone else, even worse, to a friend, about how she felt she was losing herself ever since she lost him, even though he was never truly hers to lose. Erin remained silent, holding her while she sobbed in her arms. It did feel like a small weight was lifted, but the sorrow felt even heavier now.

Erin let Rowan cry it out for a bit, giving her the courtesy to not make any sarcastic comments, at least not yet. She pulled herself together, pulling away from her arms, finally getting out of bed. Erin didn’t push, nor ask anything further, choosing to sit in silence until her cousin washed her face and dressed.

“I understand why you didn’t tell me, it’s a lot.” she heard her say as she put on the top layer of her dress. “I won’t tell a soul, I swear it. But I will try to cheer you up.” she offered a sympathetic smile.

“Thank you, Erin, in truth. I’m sorry for just dumping all of that on you… I never told anyone the whole of it.”

“Not even uncle Duncan?” Erin gasped.

“Not everything, but he knows enough.” Rowan managed a small smile.

“I feel special then!” she laughed. “Don’t worry, if I ever see the Prince, I shall beat him up!”

That made Rowan chuckle. Erin would never try, in truth, but she still appreciated the principle.

The two girls walked downstairs to the dining room which was now empty, the family having already finished breakfast. She felt much better as they walked into the empty kitchens, and she grabbed a piece of freshly baked bread, spreading some berry jam over it, the sweetness making her feel a bit better. Finn would be with her uncle, no doubt. He was now twenty, and had been following his father around since he could walk, and seeing as now he was old enough to oversee the affairs of the house, he was always with uncle Lucas. Max and Lewis were probably having lessons with the maester, and five year old Archie was probably with her aunt Maura. Her father would be catching up with his brother, telling him of the trade he had conducted in his absence, and all the wood they would supply to which lord.

“We’re running out of jam.” she noted. “Would you join me in gathering some berries? blueberries and blackberries are in season.”

Rowan wanted to venture into the forest. It would clear her mind, the fresh air, the beautiful nature would help heal her heart. As long as she stayed away from a specific spot.

“I’d fancy a walk. It’ll do you some good.” Erin said, examining the half full jar of jam.

“Would you mind taking the boys with you?” the voice of her aunt Maura startled them. “Good morning girls.” she smiled.

“Morning aunt Maura.” Rowan smiled. “Sure, we’ll go once we finish our late breakfast.”

“But if they’re annoying we’re leaving them in the woods.” Erin clarified, earning a chuckle from her cousin.

“Behave young lady.” aunt Maura said sternly, but not without humour. “It’s nice to have you back my dear. We’ll make the jam together once you return.” she smiled. “And do not leave your brothers alone Erin.” she laughed, pulling her daughter’s cheek, as she fake-protested.

“And did you get to see the black dread?” Lewis asked, his fascination with dragons growing.

“I only saw him from afar, I’m sorry to disappoint.” Rowan smiled.

“You’ve been around them for ten years, how are you still afraid of them?” Erin jabbed.

“They’re not dogs, Erin, they’re really scary! And the black dread is huge, even from a distance!” Rowan countered, smacking her cousin lightly. “When you see them, by all means, be all brave and approach them. Just let me know in advance so we can prepare your funeral.”

“Oh come on, you’ve never been curious what it’s like to fly? To touch the clouds?” Erin asked, staring up at the sky.

“It would be so amazing!” Max said, following along. “I wonder what clouds feel like!”

“Soft, probably. You know, maybe the Targaryens truly are closer to the gods than to men. I would certainly feel like a god to fly above it all.” Erin sighed.

“Father said nobody can reach the gods.” Max countered.

“Not even people on fire breathing dragons?” Erin asked, nudging Rowan gently.

“They’re still just like us, you know. They breathe and bleed like the rest of us boring civilians, the only difference is the dragons.” Rowan offered, pensive.

They never felt like gods to her. They were just like the other people in her life, but that was perhaps because she grew up around them, Visenya being like the mother she lost, Maegor her best friend, she never had to face their wrath the way the rest of Westeros had to. She supposed if that’s the image of them she was presented with, she’d also see them as closer to gods, blasphemous as it felt to think that.

“See?” Max gloated, seeing that his cousin was on his side and stuck his tongue out to Erin.

“It’s silly to think so Erin!” little Lewis chimed in the teasing.

“Careful now boys, don’t make me leave you here all alone!” Erin frowned. “Did I not tell you about those little boys who annoyed their sister so much that she did just that? Left them all alone in the woods in the dark, and they were never seen again?” she asked, as seriously as she could muster.

“You wouldn’t do that! Mum would kill you!” Lewis fought, until the fear set in. “You wouldn’t do that, right?” his little voice whimpered slightly.

“Don’t fall for it Lewis, she’s trying to scare you.” Max whined.

“I don’t know guys, it’ll get dark soon. You know what we say about being out here in the dark?” Rowan added with concern.

Much to Erin’s delight and amusement, the colour on Max’s face drained and Lewis almost shrieked. She and Rowan shared a laugh, and the boys seemed to lighten up, the more they realised it was just a jest.

“Careful now, we might change our minds!” Erin laughed.

The afternoon was spent lightly, three baskets of blackberries and blueberries filled, the sun offering a gentle warmth behind the clouds. Rowan was able to distract herself enough to feel joy again, thanking the gods for her family again and again. There was still light outside when they came back to the manor, her aunt Maura already preparing all that was needed to make the jam. The boys ran off to play, little Archie excitedly following them along to join in.

Rowan joined her aunt in the kitchens, Erin running off after helping wash all today’s gatherings. Her aunt seemed relieved that her spirits had returned. Cooking was always such a calming activity for her, her aunt’s company helping greatly.

“It smells delicious in here. Might there be any fresh blueberries left for me to steal?” Finn asked, walking into the room, next to his father.

“Ah, you’re back! Yes, yes, in that bowl.” her aunt smiled. “How is honey coming along, love?”

“All as we planned. A lot more than last year.” uncle Luke beamed, ruffling Rowan’s hair when he passed her to place a small kiss on his wife’s lips.

“Well rested, Rowan?” Finn asked, scanning the bowl for the best berries to snack on.

“Yeah.” she smiled, wondering if he also saw right through her.

“Good. You should join us tomorrow, we’re going to harvest the honey.” he gave her a knowing smile, as if knowing it would take her mind off of things.

It was late fall, it was time to harvest the hives, and there were a lot of them. It was great fun to assist in the process, now that she was older she could be much more helpful. Their honey was her favourite, as snobbish as it was to have a favourite honey. She always had jars upon jars with her when she was not home, Maegor would tease her relentlessly for it. No- no, she should take her mind off of him, or at the very least try. Work would help shift her focus.

Visenya smiled when Aegon held her by the waist to lead her to the dining room for dinner. Little pieces of affection were so golden to her, now that she got them so often, the brighter the gold shined. As the doors opened, everyone rose when the King and Queen entered and sat at the table. Soon, dinner was served.

She looked around the table at her family. Maegor was only staring at his plate, not talking to anyone. Aenys and Alyssa were including her gooddaughter in their conversation, so at least she was not left all alone. She could see her son’s temper becoming shorter and shorter, she did not wish to push him to play polite. Aegon was doting on his grandchildren, particularly spoiling Rhaena, who reminded him so much of Rhaenys, it almost made her frown. They spoiled those kids too much.

“With the royal progress approaching, I have an announcement to make, that I wish you all to know first.” Aegon spoke loudly and clearly, getting everyone’s attention, making Visenya raise a brow. “I have been in more processions than I can count, all over our Kingdoms. It is time, I believe, for my heir and his family to carry on without me. Half a year is a long time to stay away from home, and I wish to spend my time ruling here.” he said, turning to look at Visenya with a smile. “Aenys, Alyssa, you’ve been with me to so many of these, you know what to do. Take Quicksilver with you, my son.”

The table went quiet, Aenys smiling brightly at his father’s trust in him to continue on his legacy, Alyssa as well.

“I will not let you down, father!” he beamed, smiling at Alyssa and his children.

The mood became chatty and pleasant again, with Aegon offering tips to Aenys and his wife. Visenya knew better than to expect Maegor to share the joy, a simple look at him being enough to almost see steam coming out of his ears. Ceryse seemed to notice, but was hesitant to even acknowledge it. Smart girl.

After dinner was over, she and Aegon retired to their now shared chambers, how strange it felt to refer to it as theirs. They didn’t even have time to settle down before the guard announced the presence of their son wishing to talk to them. This would not end well if she left the two alone. Things were still very rocky.

“Maegor, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Aegon asked, still joyful from the dinner.

“I wish to ask you for something.” Maegor said, making it sound more of a demand than a question. “I wish to go to the procession as well.”

The request caught both of them by surprise, the room falling into tense silence.

“Why?” Aegon asked, the joy gone, suspicion on his face.

“Aenys will need protection.”

“And the two kingsguard will not suffice? Nor the small army of knights that will accompany them? Nor Quicksilver?” he raised a brow, crossing his arms.

Maegor was silent, fury brewing beneath the surface. Visenya was genuinely caught off guard by the request. Did her son perhaps wish to also be known by the people as the next in line to the throne, even if the King did not recognise him as such? It was foolish to ask, then again, her son was not really thinking very rationally these days.

“You’re to stay here, perform your duties as both Prince and knight. I will hear no more of this, Maegor, do you understand me?” Aegon asked, not as a father, as a King.

She hated when he did this.

Maegor scowled, giving a tiny nod, but Aegon did not appear satisfied. He approached their son, eyeing him carefully.

“I know you’re still upset, Maegor, but just because you wish to see her again is not enough of a reason to abandon your wife in the capital. It’s most unbecoming of you.” Aegon sighed.

That caught both mother and son by surprise, making their eyes go wide. The procession would pass by Oldtown, only a short trip away from the mountains of Starfall. Was that truly the reason Maegor had? The comment seemed to anger him even more. She wanted to shake some sense into her husband, could he not see what he was doing? Poking a dragon with a stick and expecting there to be no fire?

“That is not what this is.” was all Maegor could calmly offer.

“I’m not blind, I can see how this has changed your attitude, and I must say it’s embarrassing to see you behave like a spoiled child over this. Has this Rowan girl blinded your senses this much, to the point where you act like an angry animal?” Aegon asked, his temper running thin.

But Maegor’s had run out completely.

“Don’t you dare bring her name into this!” he yelled, making Visenya stand between the two men to stop whatever was about to start.

“You’re clearly affected by this beyond what I expected. You know what? If it affects you so much, I’ll invite her back to court permanently, have her as your paramour, as long as you sire no bastards.” Aegon said, moreso to anger their son even more.

“I would never defile her honour! Never!” he growled in rage, the only thing holding him back from attacking his father, being his mother who was physically restraining him.

“If it fixes this rotten attitude you’ve been having, I’d be more than happy for you to do so.” Aegon spat out.

Visenya could not stop what happened next. Maegor shook her hands off of him and jumped at his father’s throat, landing a punch directly on his face. She gasped, running to separate them before the guards heard anything else. She managed to drag Maegor off of Aegon, and pushed him away.

“Go to your chambers, now. We’ll speak of this tomorrow, when everyone is calm.” she ordered.

Maegor scowled even more, nodding at his mother’s command. The second he left, she turned to her husband, who was still on the floor, wiping the blood off of his face. He was surprised at his own son’s sheer strength. He was spending so much time with Aenys, he forgot what true blood of the dragon looked like.

“What in the seven hells was that? You see how his temper has become and you push him on purpose? A simple no would have been more than enough. Why the hell would you suggest such a thing, Aegon?” Visenya all but yelled at him.

“He needs to do a better job to not behave like a child, Visenya. He’s a man grown, sulking like a boy because of this girl.” he answered, getting up to find his sleepwear.

“This girl is like a daughter to me, and you know this. I don’t know what you think you’re doing with these provocations on your own son, but I will not stand to hear this bullshit from you.” she spat. “Tomorrow you’ll both apologise for both of your pathetic conduct, and we shall never speak of this again, do you understand me?” she asked, walking right in front of him.

Aegon sighed.

“You’re right.”

taglist:@heartstalked@stupidocupido@discowizard88@slytherisstuff

#maegor targaryen x oc #maegor the cruel #maegor targaryen

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alaynasansa · 1 year

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On this special day I wanted to share some of my favorite female characters in literature, cinema and tv

Sansa Stark (asoiaf)

Catelyn Stark (asoiaf)

Arianne Martell (asoiaf)

Elia Martell (asoiaf)

Brienne of Tarth (asoiaf)

Rhaena Targaryen (daughter of Aenys) (asoiaf)

Rhaenyra Targaryen (asoiaf)

Elizabeth Bennet (pride and prejudice)

Amy March (little women)

Galadriel (lotr)

Arwen (lotr)

Eowyn (lotr)

Leia Organa (star wars)

Shira Brie aka Lumiya (star wars)

Padmé Amidala (star wars)

Danni Quee (star wars)

Sabé (star wars)

Mulan (mulan)

Anna Marie Lebeau aka Rogue (x-men)

Lorna Dane aka Polaris (x-men)

Emma Frost aka White Queen (x-men)

Rachel Summers aka Askani (x-men)

Betsy Braddock aka Captain Britain (x-men)

Monet St Croix aka Penance (x-men)

Sue Storm aka Invisible Woman (fantastic four)

Sersi (eternals)

Joyce Byers (stranger things)

Kira (knights of emerald)

The Knights of Emerald is a heroic fantasy book series written in french taking place in a fictional medieval universe. Kira is the main female character. In short : She is purple from head to toe, with clawed fingers and toes, sharp teeth, and vertical pupils. She's half insect (her father is a giant ant, so what ?) half fairy and half elven. Her father is a megalomaniac emperor who raped her mother and wants to invade the continent where she lives. She is a crown princess but abdicates her throne because she knows nothing about politics and prefers to fight to protect her people as a knight. During the series the reader sees her grow from a toddler to an undisciplined nine-year-old child who does not yet have the maturity to understand why she is overprotected against her father's schemes and why she does not have the right to become a squire like her friends, then to a fifteen-year-old teenager who is insecure because of her looks, finally has the right to join the knighthood and experiments romantic love, then to an experienced adult who still goes through several trials before she can fulfill her destiny. I love this character !!

Bridgess (knights of emerald)

Bridgess is smart, straightforward and a born leader. She's kind of like a big sister to Kira and has been very supportive of her. She manages to stand up to the most stubborn characters of the series but sometimes she breaks down and fails because she is not perfect and perfect characters are boring

Swan (knights of emerald)

Swan is brash and has trouble obeying. She was born into an extremely sexist kingdom and continually feels the pressure of having to prove herself in order to be as respected as men are within knighthood. She's quite friendly and very tolerant, especially with her best friend Kira. Swan starts a family in the midst of war and struggles to deal with this new change in her life, fearing that she will not be able to fight with all her pregnancies, experiencing guilt and pain at not being able to be with her children and not seeing them grow up as much as she wants

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euhemeria · 1 year

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Ways (From What I Understand)

She does not know how to explain it, outside the language of courtly love, and knighthood, how to express it in any language other than longing.

Fandom: Overwatch Rating: T Category: Gen Characters: Brigitte, Fareeha Warnings: None A gift for @ouhhoh; musings on butchness, role models, and first relationships. Also on ao3.

Rarely does Brigitte find herself in the position of asking someone for advice. It is not that she does not need guidance, from time to time, but rather, as the youngest child in a large family, and as one of the youngest people in Overwatch, she finds herself often on the receiving end of other people’s unsolicited suggestions. If there is something she needs to know, chances are someone is going to tell her—whether she asks for their help or not.

Usually, she finds it annoying. She is 23, and she knows that is young, yes, but it is not that young, in the grand scheme of things. She has finished school and been in the adult world for some time now—even if she did spend a good portion of that time living out of a van with Reinhardt, and now as a member of the less-than-legal Recalled Overwatch. She knows adult things! She is confident and competent in the field, and more than old enough to decide so for herself, despite what some of the others may think.

(It is hard not to take it personally, when she hears Angela call her a girl while talking to Reinhardt, saying she is too young to be here. She knows that it is not, is more about how Angela feels about her own time in Overwatch—but still, it stings. At least Reinhardt stands up for her, and when she tells her mother about it, later, Ingrid, who is never one to mince words, says that although she may be just as idealistic, she is less naïve than Angela was, at her age.)

Still, everyone has advice for her. So many of them knew her when she was a child that it is difficult for them to see her as fully an adult, and that is frustrating, to say the least, even if some of the advice is useful.

At least Fareeha understands. The others respect her, because she is a hard woman to not respect, but sometimes, the way they talk about her mother, it is clear that they see, too, the child she used to be.

For this reason, it is easier to go to Fareeha for advice than any of the rest of them, on the occasions she actually needs it. She knows already that Fareeha sees her as a whole adult person, not an extension of her father or the child she once was, and Fareeha gives good advice, besides.

Or, normally she does, when Brigitte asks her about career-related issues, or has questions related to her weight training regimen. Apparently, she, too, assumes Brigitte is less experienced than is actually the case, at least in the realm of relationships.

“I know it’s something a lot of people have a problem with,” Fareeha says, setting her weights back on the rack, “But if you want to have sex with her, you’re just going to have to say that.” Brigitte does not know what to say to that, and Fareeha seems to take her silence as permission to continue. “It doesn’t have to be a big conversation. Be casual about it. Put your hand on her thigh and tell her you’d like to, if she’s open to it as well. People act like sex has to be some big deal, and—”

“That’s not—” Brigitte is mortified. “We’ve had sex!” Her face is always a splotchy red after a good workout, but now she can feel herself going fully pink—can see it, too, in her reflection.

“Oh,” Fareeha does not quite sound surprised, but she does not sound apologetic, either. She straightens and looks at Brigitte somewhat critically, “I don’t see what the problem is, then.”

“Well, we’re… I mean, we’ve been having sex, but I don’t know if we’re dating, or…” She makes a vague gesture with her hands. “You know how it is.”

“No,” Fareeha tells her, “I don’t.”

“What? Seriously? You haven’t had to do the whole ‘What are we?’ thing?” Brigitte had always thought that was a universal lesbian experience.

“Not with a woman I’m fucking, no. I like to know where I stand before I have sex with someone.” She says it like it is supposed to be obvious.

“I do too,” Brigitte wants to defend herself, “And I usually think I do! But then you mean to hook up once, and she stays the whole weekend, and that’s fine. But then you run into each other again, and it happens again and… okay, maybe it can happen twice. Then she says she wants to see you again, and… you know!” She did not think she would have to explain this.

“I have literally never done that.”

“Never?” Given what little Brigitte knows about Angela’s dating history, she had assumed that was how Fareeha and Angela ended up together; it surprises her to hear such is not the case. Rather than say that, though, she asks, “You’ve never had someone you met on an app stick around?”

A half-shrug, “I don’t sleep with people unless I already know them well.”

That surprises Brigitte perhaps most of all. She does not think there is anything wrong with preferring that, of course, but Fareeha never struck her as the type, is confident and open and definitely not above posting thirst traps to social media. Coupled with her earlier comment about sex not being a big deal, Brigitte just cannot quite make sense of it, of what the reasoning would be. It feels like it would be rude to ask Why not?, so she settles instead for, “I can’t imagine only having sex with people I’m dating.”

“I didn’t say that,” Fareeha’s tone says God forbid. “I’ve had friends with benefits.”

Admittedly, Brigitte had not considered that, but it brings back to mind her current problem, “But how do you know if you’re friends with benefits or dating?”

“I ask them where they see things going.” Fareeha moves to go over to the area where they usually do their cooldown but then pauses, adds, “Before we have sex.”

“It’s a little late for that.” Actually, it is a lot late. Somehow, Brigitte feels like admitting just how long she has been maybe-dating is going to be more embarrassing than anything else that has been said, here, so she decides not to say that it has been four months, and that some of the nights that she has slept over, she has just slept. It feels like it should be cut and dry.

“So why not just ask her?” Fareeha moves into the first pose of their routine, gets on her back and pulls a leg towards her chest, stretching her hamstring.

“I don’t know,” Brigitte says, settling down onto her own yoga mat with more of an audible thump, and pulling her leg towards her torso more quickly than she should, ow. “I guess I’ve just never really actually dated anyone.” It makes it difficult, to know how to ask, not knowing exactly what she would be asking for.

“Huh,” Fareeha sounds surprised. “No inclination or never met the right girl?”

“Didn’t have the time.” She was a late bloomer, as a teenager, and then by the time she was starting to notice other women, she was in engineering school. From there, she went straight to traveling with Reinhardt, and on to here.

“Mmm, I can see that,” Fareeha switches legs, does not even pause her movement as she asks, “But you want a relationship now?” as if it were so simple.

“Maybe?” Dating seems like a lot of work, and a lot of communicating, and it feels a little embarrassing, to be 23 years old and to have to explain to the woman you are seeing that I can’t tell if we’re in a relationship or not.

Fareeha concludes the whole second stretch without speaking again, sits up before pulling her arm across her chest, stretching her shoulder. Posterior deltoid, Brigitte reminds herself. Angela wants her to be memorizing these things. “It sounds like you’re at least a little interested.”

“Does it?” She hopes she has not sounded too eager. That would be embarrassing, particularly if this does not work out.

Fareeha pulls her arm a little tighter across herself. “You asked me,” she points out, “Not Zaryanova.”

Well, that is true. Zarya has certainly been in her same position more than once, and may have been the better person to ask, if this were just about whether or not she is dating someone—but Fareeha is in a committed relationship, a serious one, one that seems happy, and healthy.

“I just don’t know how it would go,” she admits. “What I would do.”

“Date her?” Fareeha suggests.

“Well,” Brigitte says, “Yes. But isn’t not that simple!”

Fareeha switches to the second arm, and now she is looking at Brigitte again, head turning with the stretch. “It really is.”

“No,” Brigitte is not certain how to explain the issue. It sounds silly to say I don’t know what’s expected of me, but she does not, not really. “I haven’t really—I mean, I know you, of course, but I didn’t really grow up knowing many lesbians. Lesbians in relationships.”

Or, not adult lesbians. Not lesbians who are older than her, who know more than she does about life, and romance, and what it means to be a woman who dates other women, who could model for her what it meant to be butch and to be in love.

She loved knights' tales growing up, hearing about chivalry, and heroism, and protecting the people you love, but she knows, too, that it is one thing to read about it, to devour books of handsome lady knights and the princesses they rescued, and quite another to put any of that into practice, particularly in the 2070s. Reinhardt does it, sure, lives his life as a knight, but she does not want his version of knighthood, does not want to model herself after a man—not wholly, anyway.

(She looks up to him, of course, has taken seriously her role as his squire, but it is one thing to want to be the kind of warrior he is, the kind of protector, and another to want her version of courtly love to be made in a man’s image. For that, she does not want to be following the guidance of a man, does not even want to compare herself to one—she wants butch masculinity, butch knighthood, butch wooing and protecting and courting. There is nothing wrong with the way Reinhardt lives his life, is much to be admired there, but Brigitte’s version of butchness is not a mimicry of manhood, is something else unto itself. On top of that, she has never seen Reinhardt pursue anyone.)

“You know several now.” Fareeha finishes the stretch, looks at her pointedly.

She knows Lena, too, and Zarya, and thinks Satya might be gay, also, but finds her exclusive use of the word partner difficult to parse. That does not matter; if Satya is a lesbian, she is femme, Zarya’s relationship status is complicated, and Lena… Lena’s relationship with Emily seems good, it does, but Brigitte does not look up to her, in the way she does Fareeha, does not want to pattern herself after Lena, does not hear her talk about love and think I want that.

But, crucially, she knows Fareeha. She knows Fareeha, and she overheard, once, Angela calling Fareeha her knight, and it may have been half in jest, but Brigitte locked on to that, that phrasing, imagined what it would be like, for a woman she loved to say the same of her, and it filled her with warmth, in a way little else has. That is who she wants to be.

So she agrees, “I do.” She knows Fareeha, even if she only got a glimpse, just that once, of that thing that she wants to be. Most of the time, she sees very little of Fareeha and Angela’s relationship, finds it hard to locate the romance within the friendship, the camaraderie, but it was enough to see it, that one time, enough to make her realize that it is something she is longing for, to love a woman like that.

“We’re not enough for you?” It is teasing, she can tell from Fareeha’s tone, but Brigitte knows what she is getting at, is asking what else Brigitte needs.

Normally, here, they would move on to a calf stretch, reach towards their toes, but it is hard to make eye contact doing that, even in the mirror, so Brigitte stays sitting up. “I don’t know. Lena’s long-distance, whatever Zarya has going on is a mess, and you and Angela are… you’re….”

“Private,” Fareeha supplies.

“Right.” That is one way of putting it. Having grown up with her parents, it is strange, to her, to know a couple that does not engage in public displays of affection. “So that isn’t exactly much to go on.”

“What is there to know?”

Everything, thinks Brigitte. There is a whole language that exists between women in relationships, one she has seen glimpses of in passing, a hand at the back, an arm holding up an umbrella, a means of communicating love and protection in a way that is not possession. She wants that, for herself, wants to be in that position, wants to know how to take care of a woman, the way she feels butch women are supposed to.

(To a lesser degree, she wants to know what it is to be taken care of, too, in the way she knows another woman could care for her, at the end of a long day, wants to be a protector, yes, but wants, also, to have someone to look out for her in turn, wants the comfort of knowing that although they understand she is capable of caring for herself, they still want to help lighten that load.)

“I don’t know.” That is, Brigitte thinks, rather the point. All she has is a series of moments, and relationships are far more than that, are all the things that happen in between. “I just know that I want—I mean, if I’m in a relationship—I want me being butch to be a part of that. Somehow.”

Obviously, it will be. How could it not? But she does not know how to say it, outside the language of courtly love, and knighthood, how to express it in any language other than longing.

“Don’t worry about it,” Fareeha tells her, leaning in to the next stretch, apparently satisfied that this portion of the conversation is resolved. “You’ll do fine.”

“But what am I supposed to do?” For a woman who gives perfectly clear orders on the field, Fareeha is not helping her much here.

“Whatever you want. It’s your relationship.” A pause. “Well, whatever you and your partner want.”

“I know,” Brigitte reaches to grab her own toes, makes sure she is mirroring Fareeha, so their faces are pointed in the same direction. “But—how am I supposed to know what that is?”

“You just have to figure it out.” Fareeha lets go of that foot, but lingers sitting up before switching to the other foot. “I’m not trying to be evasive. But it’s different, from person to person, what it means to be butch—or gay, or anything. I can’t tell you what’s right for you.”

“I guess not,” Brigitte breaks the stretch a few seconds early, so she can sit up, too.

Her lingering uncertainty must be clear, because Fareeha reaches out, puts a hand on her shoulder, solid, reassuring. “You’ll figure it out. You’re butch, so whatever you do is what a butch in a relationship does. And if you’re really still nervous—I don’t know, try holding open a door? That’s a good standby.”

The reframing is so simple, the idea that her being butch makes the things she does right for a butch, rather than doing butch things making her butch, but still, it is immensely reassuring. Her way of being is already the right way, whether she has guidance or not, because she is right—but, still, there is the anxiety of the unknown, the potential for embarrassment in fumbling her way through finding what fits her. She likes the idea of holding doors, but, “I never see you holding doors for Angela?” Surely, at least, Fareeha can give her something more, a fallback to try, if it feels awkward, doing that.

“I tried,” Fareeha says, “But Angela isn’t the sort of person who appreciates that kind of gesture.” There is warmth in her voice, fondness. Brigitte thinks it would be a little annoying, if a partner rejected her attempt at chivalry, dismissed it as silly, but Fareeha clearly disagrees.

(As fond as Brigitte is of Angela, having grown up with her around, the two of them are certainly very different people, with different priorities and worldviews. For all that Brigitte respects Angela, admires her even, she cannot begin to imagine what it is to date her—and thinks she herself would be much happier with a different sort of person.)

What Brigitte says instead is, “She’s very practical.” It is an understatement.

“She is,” Fareeha’s smile is, again, fond. “So I check her windshield wiper fluid instead.”

“Her wiper fluid?” Car maintenance is about as far from courtly love as a person can get.

“That way, I know she’s safe on the road,” Fareeha says, reaching then for the other foot. “And I get to feel like I’m protecting her. Plus, it’s one less chore to worry about when she’s busy, so she appreciates it.”

Well, framed like that, Brigitte can see why it might be appealing, when framed that way, why it might feel right to Fareeha, to do it. Maybe she has been going about this wrong, worrying over what to do, and has not been thinking enough about why she is doing it. For her, maybe, it will not look the same, protecting a partner—although, after travelling with Reinhardt, she does know a thing or two about maintaining a car—but that is what it is about, the protecting, not the gesture itself. There are ways she can find to do that, surely.

And the attitude, the wanting, the orienting of herself in a relationship to another person, that, she thinks, she has well in hand, always has had.

“I see,” says she, because she thinks at last she does.

“Good,” Fareeha is rising from her stretch as she answers. “Is that all, then? Because we’re pushing time, and I’m sure everyone would appreciate it if I showered before my afternoon meetings.”

It is everything she needed, yes, but “I do have one more question,” she says as she, too, stands.

“Yes?” Fareeha was half-turned towards the locker room already, but she pauses.

“Does ‘I want to have sex, do you?’ really work for you?” That simple? “No seduction or big lead up or anything?”

“Yeah?”

“Ugh.”

Some people have it all figured out.

#rory writes fic #i just like the idea of brigitte seeing pharah as a role model #like rein is a fine role model for many things #but for gay things. she needs an older lesbian to look to #thats all!

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