#marriage arguments | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kasagia · 1 year

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Heyyy! So I was wondering if it was possible for you to write something where klaus forces the reader to marry him and they have a daughter hope(she can be a baby or a kid) and the reader can kind of tolerate klaus for the sake of her daughter but actually hates him and over time she falls in love with elijah's nobility and confesses to him at a party or something and klaus overhears ending is up to you<3

Loved by them two

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Elijah Mikaelson x reader, Summary: After your parents (pack leaders) arranged your marriage to Klaus (with whom you accidentally had a one-night stand earlier), you tied your fate irrevocably to the Mikaelsons. Problem? 1. You hate your husband for tricking you into this marriage. 2. His noble brother is too alluring. 3. You find out the hard way that hate, love, and lust are a very explosive mixture. Especially when you add the two Mikaelsons to it. Warning(s): argument, fight, blood, love triangle, smut, the first time I wrote something bordering on smut, angst, fluff, the reader kisses Elijah and then goes to bed with Klaus; generally, the reader doesn't know what to do; but she has two hot brothers on her call; three in total because Kol is her best friend; I really like this one after all Nonsense from me: I combined these two requests because they seem to go together. Also sorry if I didn't include enough Elijah x reader (despite my huge crush for all the Mikaelsons, Klaus will always get somehow a girl 😅). I also took a gif from here, because... well it's good. Word count: 8,3k (it's pretty long, I admit, but I don't regret any minute of writing it.)

You hated Klaus Mikaelson with all your heart. Your abhorrent, psychotic husband. A man who somehow was the father (even though you've tried to disprove it many times) of your precious, sweet little daughter Hope.

If the devil could take human form, no doubt it would be your husband.

You met him by accident. You and your friends went out into the city to have fun. You met a hot, handsome blond guy in a bar, went to bed with him, and left his house the next day without a word, expecting never to see him again. You wouldn't think that when you get back to your pack of wolves, your parents - the alphas of the pack - will tell you that you're getting married in a month. And not just anyone. Klaus Mikaelson was going to be your husband. A 1,000-year-old werewolf and vampire hybrid.

You will remember for the rest of your life what they told you when they were destroying your chance for happiness.

"The pack must be strong. This marriage and your assumption of power will guarantee us a secure position in New Orleans. No witches, vampires, or other werewolves will stand in our way. This alliance with the originals will guarantee us power beyond our ancestors' imagination. The crescent wolf and other packs will succumb to our strength. It is your duty to do this for your people."

Of course, you objected to the idea as soon as they told you. But you weren't a leader yet, so your opinion didn't matter much. Especially when your first meeting with your fiancé was only a few minutes away. At least the first official meeting.

You thought the guy must look like a walking fossil. You were surprised when you met that hottie from last night.

And from then on, your whole life became hell.

You tried everything to back out of that engagement. Really everything. Even a fake pregnancy with another, which turned out not to be so fake after all. And unfortunately for you, the father of your child was HE. The curse of your existence.

So he sped up the wedding, and you became the wife of the most dangerous vampire in the world. Cool! At least you got lots of presents and access to his bank accounts all over the world. The pros of being an incubator for a miracle baby.

Then you met your guardian angel. Elijah Mikaelson - the older brother of your awful husband. Your only consolation (other than Hope) in this terrible situation. Your friend, soul mate, and the man of your dreams.

Fate liked to make fun of you, it forced you to marry the wrong brother.

Elijah was everything any woman could ask for. A tactful gentleman, respecting and supporting female feminism, always keeping his word, a walking ideal. The complete opposite of your cruel husband.

You were completely in love with him. So much so that when he held your beautiful one-year-old daughter in his arms, you imagined that he was her father. Your fantasy was almost always spoiled by your husband stepping on the three of you and taking the baby out of his hands.

You had no idea why Klaus had even chosen to make your life a nightmare. There were other ways he could have taken control of the city; he didn't have to become the leader of your pack and marry you.

But he always did and took what he wanted. You found out after being stuck in this happy swamp of being married to Klaus for a year. So you took great satisfaction in denying him the one thing he could never have and so desired - your love and affection.

It was another big mystery for you when it came to Klaus and his complicated personality. Yes, you had a child together, and you were stuck with him, but before that, you didn't know each other. So why did the mighty hybrid decide to find a mate and lead his own pack with them? And why was he strangely obsessed with creating a happy, loving family with you and Hope?

Worse, he turned out to be a good alpha to your pack and an even better father. You couldn't say a bad thing. You two ruled the werewolves, enhanced by your fusion, as equals. And Hope loved it when he sang her lullabies and tucked her in to sleep. Ironically, she calmed down better in the murderous original's arms than in yours.

Even your own child was against you.

Fortunately, in this cold, dark Mikaelson mansion, there was one soul who stood by your side no matter what. The only one you could trust implicitly without fear of ending up with a stake in your back.

Elijah was a gift from heaven to you.

During your pregnancy with Hope, he helped you in every possible way. He was always there for you, whether it was holding your hair as you returned all the breakfast he had prepared for you earlier or reading aloud to you as he massaged your aching ankles.

And when did you become a hybrid? He was the one who taught you self-control for the most part (while Klaus was busy doing something else and couldn't see the two of you, of course).

There was only one problem. Your terribly possessive husband.

As soon as Klaus came into your sight, Elijah had to move two meters away from you, or all hell would break loose.

And you're not exaggerating at all.

One day, when you were watching a movie and lying on the couch, leaning against each other and covered with one blanket, you didn't notice the hybrid enter the living room. You didn't even blink when your companion was dragged from his place and thrown to the other end of the house. A second later, a very angry and jealous vampire took his place, hugging you much closer than his brother and placing his hands on your growing belly.

You didn't react to his show of strength then.

Elijah and Rebekah taught you long ago to choose your battles with Niklaus. It wasn't worth arguing with him about everything he'd done. Especially since you were pregnant at that time - you didn't always have the strength to get into fights with him.

But now as a hybrid, queen of your pack and whole New Orleans? Oh no, you wouldn't let that man fucking rule you.

You tried to make his life hell. You defied him every step of the way, overthrowing his dark plans and bringing your own to life. Of course, you did it all with a sweet, stupid smile, occasionally showing him small acts of tenderness, such as hugging or kissing on the cheek or forehead (on exceptional, life-threatening occasions, you even sacrificed and kissed him), to lull his vigilance.

But Klaus wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what you were doing and was happy to let you change a couple of his plans if it meant a kiss from you.

And you thought it was what made him fall for you.

You were stubborn, always getting your way, going over the dead to achieve your goal if it was to protect your loved ones.

And Klaus loved it. You don't know if it was his weird fetish - the guy always got what he wanted and no one dared stand up to him, so he felt for the girl who didn't want to succumb to him. You were probably one of the few survivors of the rebellion against him. And the one who could do literally anything without any fear of the hybrid hurting you.

You get used to this life. Secret meetings with Elijah in the library, discussions in the living room while Hope played with her toys on the carpet and watched cartoons on TV, occasional shopping and girls' nights with Bekah and Freya, and even to Kol's pranks and tricks.

Even your relationship with Klaus has been better lately. You tried so openly not to show your hostility towards the hybrid. After all, he was your daughter's father and Hope deserved at least a semblance of normalcy - parents who don't want to kill each other every 5 minutes.

But tonight, everything was about to change.

~•♤♤♤•~

"So you want me to go with you to some weird party organized by your current archenemy Tristan, and Klaus gave you his permission to take me out of the house?" you asked the original who made the pancakes for you as you discussed another plan to outsmart the de Martel siblings while cradling Hope in your arms.

"I wouldn't call him an archenemy... just a minor inconvenience."

"Is that why you and Klaus tremble with anger every time I say his name?"

"No, it's because a beautiful lips as yours shouldn't be tainted by such a terrible name."

"So whose name should I keep saying, Elijah?" you asked with a teasing smirk, licking your lips.

The original leaned slightly towards you. The tension in the room was palpable between the two of you. You looked down from his captivating, mesmerizing eyes to those alluring lips you've dreamed of kissing ever since he turned out to be more than your asshole husband's brother to you. You were only a few centimeters apart... so little...

Hope's squirming in your arms reminded you of the baby's presence. And that you were standing so close to your husband's brother in broad daylight and in a place where anyone could easily walk in and see you two. Against your darkest, most hidden desire, you have moved away from the noble original. Elijah cleared his throat, going back to continuing your breakfast.

"I'll be ready at 8 p.m."

"The party starts at 7."

"So? Don't you think being fashionably late will be the perfect combination for the act of surprise when they see me hanging on your arm? We'll get their attention, so Klaus and Kol will do what they do the best."

"You know ladies don't usually talk about such… bloody things while holding babies in their arms?"

"Ladies, Elijah, but my wife is everything but that." the hybrid came out of nowhere with that arrogant smirk on his lips. "Hello, my queen. My little princess." Klaus smiled fondly and took Hope from you, making funny faces at the baby. The traitor started to giggle. You rolled your eyes but also smiled slightly upon hearing your daughter's cute laugh.

"Dada!" she screamed, grabbing his nose with her hands.

Yeah, this little traitor could already talk. No, the first word she said wasn't dad; it was mom. The problem is that her happy "dada" came out of her mouth too often compared to mama. Klaus was too pleased with this fact than you would have liked.

"Well, maybe if my loving husband was an exemplary gentleman, I could act like a lady."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

"How is Aurora? Did she let you out of her arms so quickly?" you asked sarcastically, trying to throw him off balance. You weren't in the mood to put up with that annoying asshole today.

"Did I just hear jealousy in your voice, love?"

"Haha, you wish. You have my full blessing to spend time with whoever wants you."

"Niklaus. I believe we were supposed to have a meeting before we put this grand plan into action. Will you forgive us, Y/N?" Elijah interrupted you before you two broke the incredible peace between you that had lasted for 4 months and started to jump at each other's throats.

"Just take him wherever you want."

"Brother, shall we?"

Klaus muttered something under his breath. He handed our daughter over to me and planted a quick, wet kiss on my neck before stepping out of my personal space. I growled at him, showing my golden eyes. The man merely laughed, waving to the little one before leaving the kitchen.

"Enjoy your meal, Y/N."

"You can try to lose him on the way back!" you screamed after the retreating man in the suit.

"WON'T HAPPEN, LOVE!" your husband shouted back, ruining (as usual) all your dreams.

"It's always worth giving a shot." you murmured, knowing full well that he would be able to hear you. You smiled victoriously, hearing his irritable, grumpy voice as he snapped back at one of his vampire errands.

~•♤♤♤•~

"You look amazing, Y/N." Elijah greeted you with a delighted smile as he watched you descend the stairs in a long, tight black dress with gold embellishments at the waist and the ends of the sleeves.

With your little tiara in your hair and a gold snake necklace entwined around your neck, you felt like a fucking queen.

You're not going to lie—you went all out with your preparations, and Rebekah made sure she did your makeup for your first big, official outing since Hope was born.

It wasn't until you came downstairs that you noticed that Elijah wasn't the only person sitting in the candlelit room. Klaus was sitting right next to him, looking at you with the same fascination and admiration as his brother. You felt a little uncomfortable being watched by two originals with heart-shaped eyes.

"Maybe I should choose a dress with a higher neckline after all?" you wondered as you watched them almost drool over your looks. They were both 1,000 years old but acted like horny teenagers.

"So I guess I'm dressed well enough to be a distraction for tonight?" you asked, bringing their attention back to your face. They both decided to act nonchalant, as if they hadn't been staring at your ass a few seconds ago.

"Maybe even to well, love." Klaus' heavy, watchful gaze didn't let you down an inch. You felt an involuntary shiver run through you with each step you took closer to the originals.

"My brother may be right. No one will be able to take their eyes off you."

"Thank you, Elijah."

Klaus cleared his throat as he got up from his chair and faced you. He took your hand gently, and after softly caressing the wedding band and engagement ring from him, he shifted his attention to your wrist, suddenly stopping his movements.

You looked up at his eyes, catching his gaze. You felt enchanted by these calm, blue eyes, their beauty mostly made you went to bed with him a year ago. You felt like any little move could break that strange spell between you two.

At one point, you felt cold metal settling on your wrist. You turned your gaze to the charming bracelet that, surprisingly, matched your outfit.

"It's for protection. In case you need help and no one can find you."

"So you've always known where I am? What is this, some kind of dog collar with a tracker?"

"No. Freya enchanted it for me. It's supposed to sense when you're in danger and let me know." he rolled up his sleeve, showing you a new bracelet on his wrist. "I have a similar one."

"Oh." you groaned in shock, completely not expecting something like this from him.

"Exactly. Oh. I guess I'm not the bad guy all the time."

"I didn't mean..."

"Of course you didn't. Have fun with my brother, love."

For the first time since you've known Klaus, you felt sorry for him. Due to the growing guilt you were feeling, you kept an eye on his receding shape until he passed through the door. You sighed, turning to face Elijah, who had already approached you from behind in a moment of your inattention.

"Don't worry. He'll get over it. Niklaus can't blame you for being careful with him." he tried to comfort you, but deep down you knew it was your fault this time.

And you weren't going to act like your husband, so you decided to apologize to him at the next opportunity. Unlike some, you were able to admit when you were wrong. However, Elijah didn't need to know about your plan.

"Maybe you are right. Let's go to this party."

~•♤♤♤•~

You were talking to Elijah at the bar while sipping your drink. You entered as planned—late, attracting the attention of most people. Rumors quickly spread throughout the supernatural community. Your favorite was that during that year of your "absence," you divorced Klaus and married his brother, now parading proudly with him around the salons. Elijah seemed to like it too.

You were enjoying the party until one of the de Martel siblings showed up. Tristan.

"Famous Y/N Y/L/N Mikaelson. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you sir are…?"

"Tristan de Martel. You must have heard about me from dear Elijah."

"To be honest, not so much. I only know that you're the one who invited us, for which I want to thank you." you played a stupid, naive girl with joy while watching the frown on his forehead. To remember: He does not like to be diminished or underestimated in any way. Mr. big ego.

"So perhaps you would do me the honor and dance with me? We could get to know each other better."

"Actually, this lady promised me her first dance. If you'll excuse us, Tristan."

"Of course. Enjoy yourselves."

Elijah grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor. He pulled you closer to him, rocking you to the beat of the song. The original wanted to cause even more rumors... you wonder if Klaus agreed to his actions.

"He's a slippery guy. Now I know why you wanted me to stay away from him and his sister."

"You just spoke to him, how do you know..."

"Well, starting with the extravagant look of the room, the fact that his suit and watch literally scream I'm rich, and ending with the fact that he carries himself as if he were the master of this world, I've noticed other manic behaviors as well. Besides, it's obvious at first glance that he's desperately trying to imitate you. I don't like him."

"Should I assume that you don't like me as well?"

"No! No. I like you. More than you know. I don't know how I would have dealt with vampirism and all of this without you. Thank you for being there for me. Always." you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne.

"And forever." he said, placing a tender kiss on top of your head. "You're more to me than I could ever admit."

"Do we have to? Pretend and hide the truth?" during your conversation, you didn't even notice when he led you to a more desolate place. Nobody was looking at you. There was only him and you.

"Niklaus..."

"Have you ever, in your entire, very long life, done something just for yourself, without thinking about your brother or sibling? Have you ever acted selfishly?"

"I can't be selfish with you." he said, resting his forehead against yours. You were so close to each other, so close to getting what you both wanted.

"Why?"

"It will destroy us all."

"Then let the world burn... just for a moment."

Elijah, after a moment's hesitation, leaned closer to you, embracing your slightly trembling figure with anticipation even tighter. He cupped your right cheek with his hand and finally brought your lips together in the long-awaited kiss.

Your first kiss with the original was… completely different from what you imagined. His soft lips didn't match up with yours as well as they did with…

You froze in complete shock as you realized your subconscious was comparing Elijah to Klaus. And surprisingly, it was more sympathetic to your hated husband, from whom you wanted so much to be free. In spite of this strange feeling of guilt that you somehow betrayed Klaus, you returned the kiss with more passion than before, trying to feel that wonderful tingling and buzzing in your head.

But it never came.

Something was missing in this perfect, fabulous setting for the first kiss with the love of your life. And you had no idea what was wrong.

Maybe first kisses with someone new were so… awkward?

Your treacherous mind reminded you that there was NEVER such an awkwardness between you and Klaus. Only pure passion and desire.

What the fuck happened to you? Why didn't you feel anything special when all your wet dreams were coming true?

You moved away first under the pretense of taking a breath. Staring into Elijah's eyes, you could feel the same attraction that accompanied you every time you stole those furtive glances from each other.

"I love you, Y/N. I've loved you since the first day you gave me a lecture on how Pride and Prejudice is Jane Austen's best book; how cliché it wasn't." you hit him on the shoulder, making him giggle. "And if the circumstances were completely different, if it were someone completely different, I wouldn't hesitate to be selfish just this once and take something from my brother. But I will not allow any harm to come to you or Hope through my actions."

Before you could say anything, you two heard a howl.

Klaus and Kol.

Elijah nodded at you. You disentangled yourself from his arms and ran upstairs to fulfill your role in the Mikaelsons' plan. You just hoped the guys would distract them long enough for you to find what you were looking for.

You searched their house, wondering how Elijah's confession would affect your relationship now.

But little do you know that you weren't the only one who heard it.

~•♤♤♤•~

It was a really fucked up night.

The peaceful surveillance of the de Martel house turned into a bloody battle between the originals and the first vampires they turned. Klaus' therapist, Cami, barely escaped a jealous attack by Klaus' ex-Aurora. You wonder how Klaus managed to reach Cami in time and why the red-haired psycho didn't target you and your child. Klaus must have put on quite a show for her.

In all the chaos, you didn't get a second chance for a moment alone with Elijah. The subject of your feelings still remained the elephant in the room. And frankly, you've had enough of it all. All you wanted now was a warm bath and playing with Hope. No more family drama.

Without Klaus, everything would have gone to hell. And as much as you hated that he forgot to include you in his plans for today, you couldn't help but be grateful to him for helping you protect your pack from vampires today. He didn't have to. He could watch the de Martel vampires kill your people and attack them when they get tired of fighting werewolves. Another demonstration of him being more than a villain to you.

It amazed you how one minute he was an irritating, ignorant, disrespectful asshole and the next your savior, protector, and equal partner in crime you could rely on.

You guess that's what your husband was like. Full of contradictions and surprises. Your private pet of nature.

You sighed in relief as you finally walked to your home. You took another step towards the mansion when you saw Klaus and Elijah getting out of the car and heading for the entrance.

You were about to join the originals, but you stopped dead at the sound of Klaus' pretentious voice.

"So we're just going to pretend you didn't kiss my wife and confess your feelings to her, or maybe you have an explanation?" you hid, eavesdropping on their conversation. "Don't think that after all that's happened, I've forgotten that you went a little too far in distracting the de Martels. You may get Aurora away from her that way, but it was superfluous, and I know you enjoyed every bloody second too much for me to just walk away from this."

"I don't have to explain myself to you. If she wants me, it's none of your business, Niklaus. You only married her because you made up a plan - Y/N has never wanted to be your wife and you have never cared about her." Klaus stopped, watching his brother blankly. He looked like something had broken inside him.

The hybrid suddenly lunged at the other man with his fists.

They started punching each other and throwing things at each other within reach. At one point, they both pushed off each other, landing on opposite walls. (Creating another dent to patch.)

"SHE IS MY WIFE! My mate! My queen! MOTHER OF MY CHILD! You have no right to her, brother! So I'm warning you… If I ever hear the littlest rumours about her having the smallest crush on you, I'll put you back in that bloody coffin, and I will release you after our eighth child comes into this world. She will be so madly in love with me that she won't even spare you a second glance when you meet again."

"I didn't know you loved plans that take over a thousand years to complete, brother. I never thought you could be so patient."

Klaus growled, throwing himself at his brother with a scream. From your hiding place, you could hear the sounds of a fight and shattered furniture.

You decided to wait a little longer before stepping in and heroically separating the two combatants. You didn't want it to seem like you overheard their argument.

Only when there was a sudden outburst followed by a suspicious silence did you decide to run into the house. You wouldn't expect them to demolish the entire living room in minutes, and Klaus would be bleeding out dangerously while trying to patch up the wound and drive the dagger into his brother's heart.

The men didn't notice you as they tried to disable each other. You weren't going to come between them or stand on either side until Elijah, out of nowhere, pulled out Pappa Tunde's blade.

Your body reacted faster than your brain. You instinctively threw yourself between them, shielding Klaus from the blade.

They both froze when they saw you.

Time seemed to stop as both shocked and incredulous looks from the originals fell on you. To be honest, even you were surprised which side you were on. You blamed your stupid tendency to act instead of think in difficult situations. But you weren't going to show them that you were insecure about your actions. Not when they were both holding weapons harmful to the other one.

"Put it down." you said, looking straight at Elijah. "You too." you added, glancing over your shoulder at your husband, who was staring at you with a strange, unidentifiable look. Amazingly, he dropped the dagger to the ground first. Soon after, Elijah did the same. You quickly bent down to grab both weapons, putting them in your pockets. "Good. Are you calm now?" they nodded silently, waiting for your next move. "Great. So, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL YOU TWO WERE DOING?!"

Elijah took a breath, probably intending to give you some clever answer, but stopped as soon as you felt an unexpected weight fall down your back. You caught Klaus just in time before he slid to the floor. Holding him up, you noticed a wound on his right side. You reached out to touch his wound, but the hybrid's strong grip on your wrist stopped your hand.

"Don't. You'll get burned. Verbena and the wolfbane. Grenade."

"What the hell?! Elijah how could you throw a grenade at him?! Do you throw one back?!" you asked the man in your arms.

"I wanted. You stopped me."

"God, from now on, you're both grounded from being with Hope. Hell knows if that rage won't attack you in front of her! Come Klaus. I'll help you clean it up. Elijah, you can clean up here before Rebekah or Freya come." you said, casting a disappointed look at Elijah's outfit before helping the hybrid up the stairs.

"I would never..." Klaus tried to explain himself as you dragged him to his bedroom.

"Just shut up and sit down." you growled at him, pushing him onto the bed. You took the first aid kit from the bathroom and went back to him to disinfect his wound. "It'll hurt."

"Will you kiss it later? To ease the pain and speed up the healing process, of course."

"Don't try your luck any more today." you warned, rolling your eyes at his mischievous smirk.

He snorted, offended. He looked like a child who had been grounded for snacking on sweets. You sighed, trying not to laugh at his scowl. Unwittingly, you began to wonder what Hope would look like when she went through her rebellious period. Probably like her father when he did something wrong and got caught doing it. Well, at least you'll have some practice before she grows up.

"Do you love my brother?" he burst out suddenly while you were cleaning his wound made by verbena and wolfsbane. Why they had pomegranates from these plants shouldn't shock you as much as it did.

"What?" you asked, shoving a water-soaked cotton ball into his wound, which made him groan in pain. You gave him an apologetic look as you continued working on his side.

"Don't act stupid, it's not like you at all. Do you love my brother?"

"Of course I do, he's my friend and Hope's uncle." you replied unfazed, continuing your work.

"Let me rephrase that. Are you IN LOVE with my nobel brother?"

You tried to pretend that his question had no effect on you. You put down the cotton balls and tried to avoid his gaze to give some answer, but Klaus grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. Fuck. You couldn't lie now. He always knew when you were lying, and now that you were exposed to his watchful gaze, you only knew one way out of this fucked-up situation.

So you pulled him closer to you, kissing him passionately.

He moaned, surprised by the feeling of your soft, enticing lips on his own. He wasted no more time. He put you on his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible.

The feeling of his warm skin against your clothed body reluctantly brought back memories of the night it all began.

Intoxicated by the feeling of his captivating lips on yours again (after so long), you didn't even notice when he threw you onto the bed, only momentarily breaking your kiss to let your hair down. He melted back into your mouth, hovering over you. The hybrid tangled his hand in your hair, tilting your head so he had better access to your equally eager mouth and tongue.

He moved to your neck, leaving wet kisses and gentle bites and rubbing every inch of your skin, effectively ruining any thought process in your head.

It was just you and him.

And after a very long time, you felt extraordinary pleasure and much-needed relief from the tension that your body had gone through today.

"Nik!" you moaned when he started sucking on the most sensitive spot on your neck, which he knew damn well existed and used every time to tease you.

But this time you moaned for him like a whore, too overwhelmed by the sensations his skilled hands and lips were giving you.

And this time, Klaus didn't hold back. His amber irises and possessive growl were the only warnings he gave you before he ripped your dress in half, revealing your dressed-in-lace-underwear body to him.

His wolf howled inside him.

He pressed his lips to yours greedily, caressing every inch of your newly exposed skin. You growled into his mouth as he bit your lip harder and dug your nails into his back. He reciprocated by squeezing your thigh tightly as he wrapped your leg around his waist, rubbing your most sensitive parts against each other. You both moaned in unison, pulling your lips apart for a moment. You decided to repay him and slid your fangs out to dig into his neck, drinking his sweet blood greedily. You've been dreaming about it since you became a hybrid. Only in your darkest, wildest dreams, after which you were ashamed to look into the eyes of the hated hybrid who probably drove you to Stockholm syndrome because you wanted him more every day—the man who was the cause of your misery.

It was impossible for you to love him. To love the man who tricked you into this marriage; who lied and killed and tortured so many people; who made you fall head over heels for him. Maybe that's why you fell in love with Elijah? He was his complete opposite. He was self-possessed, calm, reasonable, and kept his word.

But there you were, rubbing against him and moaning as his blood ran down your throat. Wanting him more than his brother—the man of every woman's dreams.

Maybe you were as fucked up as your husband.

Moments later, he copied your idea and dug himself into your neck. The moan coming from him sent shivers through your body all the way THERE. How could a man make you so desperate for him with just some kisses and the slightest touch?

You'd probably go all out and lose yourselves in each other's touch for the rest of the night (and possibly part of the morning) if Hope's cries hadn't come from the baby monitor on his nightstand. You broke apart, breathing heavily. Klaus licked off the rest of the blood dripping from your wound until it closed. He rested his head against your chest, inhaling your scent.

You unknowingly ran your hand through his curly hair, also closing your eyes and getting lost in this special, unique moment of tenderness between you two.

"I love you, Y/N." his soft whisper, combined with the gentle movement of his lips against the skin of your breasts, sent shivers down your spine. The realization of his confession left you completely still, holding his arms in a gentle embrace. "I know you don't feel the same way about me, but I promise you that one day you will. I will be worthy of your affection, my brave, wise, beautiful, merciful queen." he said, placing one last longing kiss on your lips before climbing off of you. He got dressed and left the room to soothe the crying Hope.

You closed your eyes, taking shaky breaths. You covered your mouth with your hand to drown out your silent sobs as you heard the familiar lullaby that Nik usually sings to Hope.

Klaus has really changed for the better since the first time you two met. And any other woman in your situation would surely fall in love with him in a heartbeat. But you've already given your heart to someone you'll never have. Or so you thought.

You felt an inexplicable attraction to Elijah, but with Klaus... everything just felt right - even though the hybrid drove you crazy and was the complete opposite of your dream prince on a white horse, in which Elijah fit perfectly. So maybe your Mr. Right wasn't someone you'd imagined in your head a long time ago…

And now, crying silently on your husband's bed, you realize what you should have done ages ago. But before you did the right thing, you could afford to pay a little attention to your troubled, lost heart.

So you cried until you got tired enough that all you did before falling asleep in Klaus' bedroom was to cover up any traces of your tears. You promised yourself a long time ago that no matter what, you would be the only witness to your tragedies. You'd rather be seen as a cold bitch than a weak, lost girl thrown into the fights the originals always fought.

Because in the end, it was only you (and Hope) against the whole world. Just like always.

~•♤♤♤•~

"I need you to do me a favor, Kol." you said as you walked into his room without knocking. The original was on the bed, flipping through something on his phone. He lazily shifted his gaze to you. You groaned internally. Bored Kol is a Kol who is very hard to work with. But—shame to admit it—he was your last and only resort.

"Hello to you too, Y/N. Thank you for knocking before storming into someone's room. How am I? I'm very glad you're asking; I'm fine. That's a very beautiful day, don't you think? Yes, indeed. Did marriage with my brother completely make you lose any manners and tact?" he teased as he drank the blood from the bag.

"I want you to compel me." he spat out his drink, choking and staining another carpet. "Rebekah will be mad at him." you thought as you watched how the original was coughing.

"What?!" he shouted, finally coming to himself. "Why?!" he asked, reaching for his half-full bag again.

"I want you to compel me to love Klaus." he spat out his drunken blood again, suffocating. He tossed the bag on the nightstand, deciding not to reach for it again in the face of new revelations. He probably thought you were completely out of your mind.

"What the bloody hell?! But I thought you and Lijah…" he began, confused, jumping out of bed to face you.

"We never gonna happen, Kol. I realized it very clearly yesterday. And I don't want to feel these stupid things around Elijah any more. He will never be mine, and I will never be his. I have Hope. I had to think about her future and happiness. And she deserves… everything. So if I can give her a happy, normal, loving family, I will do it. Even if it means falling for Klaus by your compel."

"Are you sure, darling? Do you even know what you're asking me for? Do you really want me to erase your memories of you and Elijah?"

"No. I don't want to forget. I want to remember all those stupid moments that led me to this fucking rollercoaster of emotions. I need you to convince me that... it was always meant to be Klaus. That my love for Elijah is just a fleeting fascination, and that Klaus is my fucking soulmate and partner, someone who will treat me as an equal and put me and our daughter above everything else. And that seeing him so close with Aurora and Camille made me realize that I only want to be with him."

"You know that these things aren't far from the truth, do you? My brothers love you. Both equally strong. Are you sure that…"

"Yes. I made my decision. I'm just asking you to help me sort out my emotions properly. I can't be the girl who sails between two brothers. I will not let Hope grow up in this mess my feelings have caused. My fate was sealed the day I met Klaus. Now it's time for me to finally accept it."

"I'll help you, darling. On one condition. I'm not going to keep you under my compel forever. I'll take it off someday. Are you then ready to face the consequences of your actions? Organize your feelings on your own? What if you really fall in love with Nik? What if you somehow fall in love with both of them? If Elijah finds someone else? Do you even think about what it will mean to you? You'll be living a lie, Y/N. Are you ready for it?"

"I'll do everything to give Hope the family she deserves. Besides, I'm Y/N Y/L/N-Mikaelson. I always know what to do. And for now, this is the perfect solution. I think I could be happy with Klaus after all. And after everything that happened recently... I just want to finally be happy, Kol. Without all the extra problems that being a Mikalson brings anyway."

"I only hope you're not going to regret this... Look at me, darling. Today you will feel something more than hostility or a little friendliness toward my brother Klaus. After seeing him, being a hero for your pack, and rescuing that human Camille from getting killed, you realized that you'd always had some feelings for him, but before today they were weaker than what you feel for Elijah. You realized that Klaus could be the man of your dreams, someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. You will never forget what you experienced with Elijah, but now you see him more like a brother and an uncle to your child than a life partner. You like Klaus; he's the only man you could be romantically interested in until Hope comes of age. After this time, my compulsion will cease to work. You will forget that I compel you. I told you to get that stupid idea out of your head and told you not to ask anyone else for such a favor. You will follow my command." you snapped out of your stupor, blinking as you tried to remember what the hell had just happened.

"Well, at least promise me you won't tell Klaus, Elijah, or anyone else."

"I hate to say it, but you have my word. Everything will stay between us."

"Good." you nodded your head and left his room. Kol's concerned gaze led you all the way to the door.

At least he circumvented your request and didn't force you to love Klaus directly, he just dulled your infatuation with Elijah. If you started to feel anything for his hybrid brother, it would be real. He only hoped that when Davina, Rebekah, or Nik found out, they wouldn't castrate him for it.

~•♤♤♤•~

You were pissed off. Incredible furious with your stupid husband and his older brother.

These two morons went with Kol on a solo quest against Lucien and Tristan, locking you (Freya, Davina, Rebekah and you) in the house.

You don't need to tell anyone that they came back with nothing and narrowly escaped death. As soon as the boundary spell was lifted by your witches, you ran out of the house with Hope and went straight to your pack. You left your daughter with your cousin Lily and her witch girlfriend while you went to get wood. You must have landed your rage on something. Trees were better than innocent people or your very guilty and stupid husband, whose face you didn't want to see right now because you knew you'd use it as a dartboard.

However, you forgot that your husband had no self-preservation instinct.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you growled as you sensed his presence, continuing to chop wood. He really was asking to die today.

"You took our daughter and left the house, you think I won't follow you? Besides, we need to talk, love."

"Well, it's too fucking late now. Fuck off before I shove a branch up your ass."

"Where does such an aggression of yours come from, love?"

"You dare to fucking ask me?! After what you did?! You could all die or get caught! I know you don't care what happens to me, but have you thought about Hope? Your fucking daughter! What would happen if they came for us, for her, when we were closed in the cage, you made?! Tell me, honey, was it your brilliant idea? Or maybe Kol's?"

"It's fascinating that you have such faith in my noble elder brother that you don't even entertain the slightest possibility that it was his plan."

"Elijah wouldn't do something so stupid. He's better than you. Do you even know how it could..."

"Of course our dear Elijah would be a better husband for you!" his brain apparently focused only on that damn part, not the one where you scolded him for being so careless because you were worried about him.

"Don't you dare fucking bring him into this! He was the only goddamn person who cared about my fate after my transformation! He cares enough about me to let me know about his plans, Klaus!"

"I saw perfectly well how he cares for you - by shoving his tongue down your throat!"

"Maybe if you weren't acting like a fucking, arrogant, condescending dick who knows everything best, you'd be in his place!"

"Well, I went further with you than he did last night. You didn't even moan against his mouth as you did against mine. I guess being a dick pays off after all." he replied with a feisty, smug smile.

"You! Fucking! Disgusting! Pervent!" you growled, punching him in the chest each time, causing him to back away from you until you pinned him to a tree. "I fucking hate you. Every time I see the shadow of a man worth loving in you, you always screw it up! I hate you and despise both you and myself that despite all the damn things you've done against me, somehow I still fucking want to see in you someone worth my love!" you screamed, taking out your anger on him with every blow you landed on him.

It shocked you that he didn't do anything to stop you. He just took your punches, standing still in complete silence, until you got tired.

"Better?" he whispered, staring at your panting, disheveled figure as you both tried to calm down.

"A little."

"You tremble." he noticed, carefully touching your cold shoulder. "Let's go back to the camp. We need to warm you up." he said as he took off his leather jacket and tossed it over your shoulders. He grabbed your hand and started leading you through the dark forest.

You don't even remember when you got this far in your anger. It took you a good half silient hour of walking to get back to the sleeping pack.

You sat by the still-burning fire. Klaus added a few logs of wood to make sure it wouldn't go out. He then sat next to you and unrolled the blanket, draping it over your back, creating a warm cocoon around the two of you.

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder and staring into the fire. You blissfully absorbed the silence between the two of you, losing yourself in Klaus' warmth and scent.

"I'm sorry." he broke the long silence between you. "I should have let you know about my plans or not locked you in the house. You're right. You deserve someone better, love." he said, his voice slightly trembling as he spoke the last words.

"I could love you, you know?" you felt his piercing, surprised look as you played with one of the sticks, staring stubbornly at the fire to avoid his gaze. "A long time ago. If you hadn't acted like a condescending asshole and tried your best to lock me up in that damn house with Hope. If you'd let me in, help me get past that evil, cruel hybrid facade and see the real you, you would have what you so secretly desire."

"And what is that?"

"Unconditional love from someone who isn't forced to give it to you. Unlimited trust and devotion-something you have not experienced in your very long life. You know one day you'll get it from our daughter, but it won't be the same. She will love you because you are her father, her love is conditioned by the bond you have shared since she was born. That's why you want me to love you so much. You want someone who cares about you for no reason."

"And could you? Love me just because you want to? After everything I have done?" he asked, pulling you away from him, not too far away, just enough to look you in the eye.

"You were never quite the villain in my story. I have to admit, I've hated you since I met you... but over time, I've seen that you've made me more than I could have imagined, someone much more powerful, someone whose opinion really matters. You always helped me, even when I thought it was some kind of sabotage against me and when I disagreed with your plan, like when you decided to stop Dalhia alone or play partners in crime with your bloodthirsty father. You take care of my pack like it's your own, and you're such a good father to Hope that sometimes I envy her. Maybe our beginnings weren't the best, and maybe along the way we'll start arguing and fighting like bitter enemies again, but I couldn't imagine anyone else to do it with."

"Even after I forced you into this marriage?"

"Well, if it weren't for you, my parents would've arranged one with a possibly stupid, self-centered werewolf anyway, so I didn't get the worst of it."

"Good to know I'm not the worst option."

"At least you're hot and handsome." you replied, nudging him with your arm. He did the same, making you both laugh.

You stared into his eyes as the firelight reflected in his beautiful irises, emphasizing sparks of amusement and... tenderness.

"I want to be the man who deserves your love."

"Can you let me in then?"

He did not answer. Instead, he pressed his lips to yours. If it had been any other man, you would have insisted on answering this important question. But you knew Klaus too well to know that this passionate, sultry, tender kiss is a silent promise he makes to you. A promise he intends to keep.

Klaus wasn't the perfect man of your dreams, and he often made hasty, sudden decisions without considering the opinions of others. But deep down, you knew there was no other man in the world who made you feel the way you did with Nik. Even Elijah couldn't make you feel half the way you did with his brother. His kiss, his touch, his smile, and his scent made you feel insane. And that (desire, passion, tenderness, warmth, and thristing for his little affection) was the type of love you want to lose yourself in.

Maybe it was Klaus who was supposed to be your Mr. Right after all.

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moonshine-nightlight · 1 year

Text

Nothing's Wrong with Dale: Part Twenty

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Chapter 20 - MoonshineNightlight - Original Work [Archive of Our Own]

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] Part Twenty [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two] [Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

Your turn catches Breighton’s attention and you both move to allow Dale and Grandfather into the loose circle that your group has formed.

Greetings fly around as everyone is introduced yet again while you hope this is enough of a disruption for the topic of conversation to change.

You haven’t even had a chance to hear about anything truly new and interesting about medical studies from this world yet.

“Lord Dale,” Dr Louisa says, a glint in her eye you don’t trust. “We were just discussing demonology laws. Given my area of study and given Northridge’s historically rigid stance on the laws forbidding any practice or study of the Depths, I was curious as to what your opinion on the matter was. Or yours as well, Lord Northridge, if anything has changed in that regard.”

You nearly have a heart attack at her bold question. Was the fact that only Grandmother was specifically warned against made her think that meant Grandfather is a more amenable target? Didn’t she realize the original warning was for her own benefit, not Grandmother’s? Your eyes dart to Grandfather and you brace yourself for whatever he’s going to say—you doubt Dale will be able to speak first.

Grandfather frowns sternly at Dr. Louisa, looking at her as if she had asked his opinion on the merits of running around naked with an unsheathed sword in the muck. “My stance has not changed, if you mean to say that Northridge should permit such activities within our lands or that any of the laws written by Lady Northridge should be repealed.” There’s no give to his words, no gentling them or self-consciousness. As if he had been asked if he still thought it was water in the river and couldn’t understand why that was a question in the first place.

He continues reproachfully, “A very audacious question, but I suppose given the foolhardy nature of your studies, unsurprising. Studying the intersection of materials from the Depths with an eye towards our medicine, except in how to counteract their poisonous effects, is the height of arrogance and recklessness. Northridge’s laws remain the gold standard and if everyone were wise enough to adopt them, then the violence and grief in the world would suffer a great blow.”

Dr. Louisa blinks back, clearly not having expected such a definitive and blunt dismissal of her entire field. Teresa pulls her goblet up to her mouth in a poor attempt to hide her grin. “I see,” is all Dr. Louisa manages.

Hopefully, that puts an end to her desire for drama or debate on the topic and you can finally move on.

Unfortunately, not everyone shares your opinion. Kenneth asks, seemingly unable to resist stirring the pot further, “And you, Lord Dale?”

“Hm,” Dale gives his head a little shake, as if bringing himself back to the conversation. “Oh.” The thoughtful frown on his face deepens as he rubs a hand on his chin. He gives Grandfather an apologetic look before he shakes his head. “I’m afraid I do not entirely agree.”

Grandfather turns to give Dale a look of parental skepticism, the kind given when a child expresses an opinion the parent feels they cannot be qualified to speak on. “No?”

Is that a good attitude for Grandfather to have or a bad one? You’re not sure. It’s not suspicious at least.

“No,” Dale repeats. Is it only because of your knowledge of his nature that you see in his eyes when he makes the decision to truly present an opinion other than agreement on this, most delicate of topics. Does it read merely as bracing one’s self to a parent to the others? Or is it only you who can tell what placing his glass down means?

Dale opens his mouth, closes it with a frown, before he begins again, “I understand the motivation behind the laws Grandmother championed at a national level and agree with the vast majority of them.” His voice is careful and firm, but you see him fiddle with a cufflink before continuing, “However, if I am being honest, I feel Northridge’s ban is ultimately to our own detriment.”

This is a risk and you don’t know why Dale is taking it. Obviously, since he’s a demon you assume he must have a less than glowing opinion of Northridge’s stance, but why press that now? Now, when Grandfather had finally backed off? He’s clearly being careful with his words, but why say them at all?

When Grandfather opens his mouth to object, Dale barrels onward, obviously having committed to this conversation, “I certainly do not think the danger is not real or present, however, a complete ban prevents us from truly understanding that danger and prevents us from learning best to counter and deal with such a thing, if it were to arise.”

Your thoughts race with each new word out of Dale’s mouth. Is he trying to test the waters? To see if Grandfather will bend? And to what point? What is he planning? For the first time in a while, you let your worries about what Dale has planned overwhelm your worries for what others have planned for him. What does he want? Why is he still here? Is trusting in him the biggest mistake you’re ever going to make? Why is this the line he’s walking, that he’s pushing?

“Banning the knowledge and materials needed to summon or create portals is what keeps us safe from the very danger they present,” Grandfather scolds.

“What about the Fallridge fire ten years ago?” Dale counters. He glances at the group, likely seeing unfamiliarity with this incident. His eyes end their scan on you and he elaborates, “While home from school, a student tried to use substandard ingredients and whatever notes he could sneak into Northridge to open a portal. The result killed him and everyone within the block.” He turns back to Grandfather. “Let alone the others who died when those firesprits ran loose and no one knew how to seal the portal or banish them?”

You wince at the description of the incident, though you’ve heard similar stories before about summoning mistakes, or those who were summoned correctly but with the intent of causing harm. It does sound like a larger death toll than usual, especially if no one had the supplies or training to put an end to the incident or the demons.

It’s also an interesting angle for Dale to come at this from. You were worried he’d just suggest a repeal to the bans, that having such strict laws is holding the fief back, as you’re certain the original Dale had thought. This Dale though… he’s certainly not trying to downplay the danger demons can present, if anything you think having such trained personnel would only make it hard for him to remain undetected. Why is he going there with this argument? Just hoping to propose stricter protection in order divert suspicion?

“And how bad could it have been if he’d done so correctly?” Grandfather snaps back, but he looks uncomfortable. “What about all the other disasters that the ban prevented from happening?”

Dale looks disappointed in Grandfather’s answer although you think it's a fair question to ask. “Firstly, you know I cannot prove a negative. Secondly, there are plenty of other fiefs that do not have bans who also do not have constant accidents like this. Thirdly, his warding is what failed which means if he’d done so correctly, it is less likely anything would have gotten through. And finally, having trained responders in the guards and our own schools to help combat such an accident could only have helped in this situation.”

Of course, that’s also a fair response. Your own fief, as best as you can remember it, has the same laws as the country as a whole and have not had significant incidents—at least, none that you heard of. While you were never particularly involved in anything regarding the running of your fief—that was your parents and brother and sister-in-law—they did frequently discuss such matters in front of you, having forgotten you were in the room in the first place. You’ve heard of accidents like that once or twice, but always handled competently by the city guards and put to rest quickly.

“A singular occurrence is not enough to call for a solid and successful policy to be re-written or repealed,” Grandfather replies, folding his arms. You can see he’s not willing to concede this point.

Dale folds his own arms in response and you hope he knows what he’s doing because this seems incredibly risky. You’d just gotten Grandfather to fall back from his investigation and now Dale is possibly bringing that back into focus. At least, you feel relatively comforted by the fact that so far, Dale is only discussing policy and law, nothing personal. “What about the incident in Hallen five years back? Or the diplomatic incident with Fief Sularia? They still refuse to talk to any of us. Our mining caravans are more vulnerable to bandits who use demons as they cannot hire any with sufficient knowledge to defend them.

“And even myself.”

Well, there goes that. He has to go and bring up his own experience. You try hard to stop your nails from digging into your arm as you wait for what he’s going to say. “Someone from the family Vitoron attacked me for the fact that his entire family, save himself and his older sister, were worked to death in the mines because of a book they possessed and work they did outside the fief, where it was legal.”

You glance at Breighton to see if she has any insight into this specific incident and see her face has paled.

“What?” Grandfather’s look of frustrated discomfort melts into something truly startled and worried at the last point. “You never said anything of the sort happened.”

“I knew how you and Grandmother would take news of such an occurrence,” Dale replies smoothly, no hint of apology for keeping this from them in his expression. “And while I don’t blame the laws for his actions—revenge against me, who did not write or enforce the laws or actions taken against his family when I was all of nine—what did concern me was that I had no means of defending myself or knowledge of what he was even attempting,” Dale replies, his mouth grim.

“So yes, I did look into demonology.” Dale juts out his chin. “Ignorance is not safety.” For the sake of the sun, you hope this is Dale’s try to convince Grandfather that any odd behavior or demonic knowledge came from before he returned to Northridge, not his accident, but why now? You’d both already hid any reactions to his clumsy unmasking attempts that he’d finally started to truly back off. This seems like a step backwards, like it will make Grandfather more suspicious, not less—or at least anger him. Maybe he was just trying to act as authentic to the original Dale as possible, hoping that would sell the deception?

But is this public argument before he even officially inherited be what Dale would have done? Quite frankly, you didn’t know him well enough to guess. You can only hope this Dale knows what he’s doing.

When Grandfather looks shocked at Dale’s admittance, Dale’s frown deepens. “You trained and taught me to protect myself and Northridge. You expect once I have the opportunity that I would neglect to learn to protect myself from what is potentially the greatest one?”

“Those tools and knowledge are double-edged blades—poisonous ones at that,” Grandfather says, obviously settling on parental outrage. His face is hot with anger, though you expect it is also to cover up embarrassment at Dale’s public disagreement. And it's not as though you don’t think he believes what he’s saying about the danger.

“All tools are. All knowledge is,” Dale retorts, sounding the most like his old self since the accident—but even in his anger, there is a restraint, an attempt at sounding measured that the original Dale never thought to exercise. “I’ll not leave myself vulnerable out of fear or the misguided arrogance that I can successfully remove the threat entirely. I’ll not be held captive in my own home.”

“Dale,” Grandfather looks stricken by that statement. “That’s not the purpose of our laws. That does not mean that there are not degrees of danger. One can be warned against poisons without sampling them and hoping you survive.”

Is Dale trying to use the original Dale’s thoughts and motivations to justify laxing the laws in Northridge so that later he can take advantage of not having to hide so much? Is now the time for that? Your eyes go to Breighton, who looks grave as her eyes dart between her father and nephew, her lips firmly pressed together.

“Can they? In Northridge?” Dale asks, resigned, as he picks up his goblet once more, eyes focusing intently on the liquid within like it might hold the answers he seeks. “Because from where I’m standing everything is banned, including how to protect oneself.”

“There should be nothing to protect yourself from, if everyone would simply listen to reason and stop inviting venomous snakes into their homes or playing with fireworks indoors,” Grandfather snaps.

“But they won’t,” Dale says, the frown set deeper in his face, his countenance dark. “They’re never going to.”

“There is no safe way to engage with demonoloy or summoning,” Grandfather says, a cord on his neck standing out. “I don’t know what you thought you learned or what benefits you think you gained with that knowledge, but you’ve only put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

Dale opens his mouth to respond, his eyes snapping, but Grandfather refuses to let him. “I will not hear anything more about this and you’ll not mention anything of the sort to your Grandmother. She has worked far too hard and for far too many years to keep you safe to hear you’ve disrespected her efforts in such a manner—to say nothing of the disrespect to the memory of your parents.”

Dale had pressed his lips together when Grandfather mentioned Grandmother, looking away, but at the mention of his parents, he snaps back to attention. Taking a step towards Grandfather, Dale says, heatedly, “You may disagree with my decisions, but do not suggest I did so out of disrespect. That I did not do so because of what happened to them, not despite it.”

“Father,” Breighton’s voice cuts through the tense silence, her hand landing on Grandfather’s shoulder. The other landed on Dale’s. “Dale. Now is not the time nor place for such a discussion. I know that neither of you would disrespect Remmy or Qiana and you know that about each other too. This is a celebration of a betrothal, not a magistrates court. No laws are being rewritten tonight. And no one is going to get Mother involved in this either. Yes?”

Grandfather looks as though he wants to disagree, but then he finally looks away from Dale to meet Brieghton’s eyes. Whatever he sees there, makes him deflate. He bows his head slightly. “Yes.”

“Yes,” Dale echoes after a similar look from Breighton. He looks more annoyed than Grandfather, but also more cowed.

Grandfather sighs, looking tired. “I know your intentions are meant for the best, Dale. That whatever you’ve done is because you felt it warranted. I am aware you have felt trapped in Northridge in the past, but that has never been our intent. We have only ever acted for your safety and wellbeing.”

“I know,” Dale admits before downing the rest of his wine glass. “I did not mean to imply otherwise.”

Breighton lets go of both of them at those words, seemingly aware that's as close to an apology either of them will get. She turns back to the group, who have, out of politeness or discomfort, given the Northridges’ space. They closed their circle to talk quietly amongst themselves while the family argument between their hosts resolved—no doubt listening, but at least pretending for propriety that they were not.

Before she can say anything to smooth your return to more calm conversation, a sudden noise makes you wince and look around, eyes a bit wild, at the sound of a threat when you are already so tense. Instead, your gaze lands on the balcony overhead where the instruments for the musicians had been left. Multiple people are up there and seem to be setting up to resume performing. One of them gives you an apologetic look before returning to her cello.

Breighton has snagged Teresa’s elbow, who steps aside easily so Breighton can say to the rest of the group, “It looks as though the music will be starting up again momentarily. Was someone going to fetch us when the Governor’s study room was ready?” She directs the question to Dr. Louisa, who had originally went to see about it, but there is that same sharpness Breighton occasionally has that betray, despite her mild words, the fact that she remembered exactly who instigated the argument.

“They were supposed to come to me,” Dr. Louisa replies evenly, her voice calm and giving no hint that she might be concerned about Breighton’s ire—except the wary look in her eyes. You don’t think she regrets what she pushed for, but she’s at least aware it had consequences and that Breighton will not forget.

You wish you could send Dr. Louisa the bill for the next batch of ingredients for calming and sleeping teas you’ll have to order after this conversation. This betrothal has made you work through your store at an unprecedented rate–the only other times you came close was during final exam periods. That’s not all her fault, but tonight certainly is.

“However,” Dr. Louisa continues. “I propose we head over now regardless. Perhaps we can intercept a messenger.”

“Why don’t we wait in the chess room?”Alent speaks up. “I know the Governor always has it prepared, for all there’s not much to amuse oneself with there. We can let someone know we’ve relocated there to wait. It’s directly off this hall.” He begins to purposely move in that direction and the others follow.

Julion catches the attention of a maid to tell her we’re moving while Breighton purposely steers Grandfather to the other side of the group from both Dale and Dr. Louisa. Since he’s met Kenneth before that seems like the safest move. You nod in response to her look and heard Dale towards Teresa—the least intimidating member of the party—for distraction.

You wind up in step with her and you’re grateful when she picks up the conversation right away, asking Dale what universities and colleges he’s visited throughout his travels. That leaves Grandfather up front, with the other members of the group in the middle, and Dr. Louisa just ahead of you, Dale, and Teresa who are pulling up the rear.

As you make your way through the rather crowded hall, conversation getting louder as the musicians who are ready begin to play once more, you start to feel claustrophobic. The only benefit to being somewhat of a main attraction at these events is that usually there’s more open area around you. Now that you’ve got to cross the entire hall and everyone’s caught up in the gala, which is in full swing with the music returning, that’s not true. You’ve never wished for that extra attention and therefore space more.

After the pair of you are jostled by a hurrying woman, you start to remind Dale to use his cane, for it often seems to slip his mind at these events, but then you stop. You don’t want to come across as ordering him about—that’s one of the reasons Grandfather was suspicious in the first place. Nor do you want to seem overly fretful—or draw too much attention to his continued balance problems.

Of course, him tripping reminds people of that as well. Still, you’re not going far and the cane is in his belt, if he needs it. If he needed it, he’d use it. You’re just looking for something to do, some way to offload some of the tension still causing you to hold yourself tight.

You can’t say you contribute much to the conversation between Teresa and Dale. Between the noise of the crowd, your own nervousness, and the fact that you haven’t traveled much yourself, you feel strangely out-of-place, like an impostor despite this whole event technically being held for you. Like someone’s going to catch you and Dale in your lie at any second. It’s the most uncomfortable you’ve felt at one of these events after going to so many the past few weeks.

Reaching the chess room and entering the mildly cooler room feels like a relief. Since nothing has happened yet, each minute that passes feels like it's lifting the weight slowly from your shoulders.

As you all rearrange yourself around one of the tall tables, Dale catches his foot on a too long tablecloth and stumbles. As the other closest person, Dr Louisa reflexively steadies him, clasping Dale’s hands and forearms as she helps him regain his balance.

Dale smiles ruefully, saying, “I thought training would be the time I needed my cane the most, but alas, the opposite appears to be true. My primary instances of near falls have all been while walking at my leisure, rather than during anything rigorous.”

You quickly move in to offer your own hands to aid him in stabilizing his balance and something dark catches your eye. Does Dale have ink on his hands? How odd, neither of you did any paperwork today.

Then you remember: Dr. Louisa’s gloves. Your hands clench around on his own, his fingers instinctively curling around yours. She said they revealed the stain of a demon when coming in contact with them in the flesh or the possessed.

Shit.

Dr. Louisa seems preoccupied with her discussion with Scholar Callipan and has already dismissed her contact with Dale, but who knows how long this effect lasted? She had said not long but what did that mean?

Dale doesn’t seem to have noticed your grip on his hand is far tighter than it should be, which is smething. He also doesn’t seem to have noticed what’s happened because now that you’re paying attention, you can see his other palm as he returns it to his side. There are dark, rich blue deepening to black smudges blooming where Dr. Louisa’s gloves touched him. And he’s making no move to hide them.

You need to either alert Dale so he could be extremely careful himself or get him away from Dr. Louisa so she can’t notice. Ideally you want to find some way to cover up his hands, though you’ve no idea how to subtly encourage Dale to put on gloves without anyone else noticing. Plenty of the others overheard her explanation of Dr. Louisa’s gloves and you didn’t want to alert any of them.

“Excuse me?” You turn to see a maid just inside the entryway. She curtsies and says, “Dr Louisa?” Dr Louisa nods, taking a step forward to identify herself. “The Governor’s study is now available for your use.

“Wonderful,” Dr Louisa says before turning to the others, “I know we only just arrived here, but let us relocate once more.”

“Yes, let’s,” Kenneth agrees. “There will be more room there and there’s a manuscript on the Governor’s shelves that I’m certain will support my point.”

“If you think it will aid in your case,” Julion says and gestures out of the room, “you’re welcome to attempt to locate this tome. I cannot wait to hear about how you misremembered which book or see that it will show I am correct.”

“This is far too academic for me,” Grandfather says and you risk looking directly at him, having avoided doing so since the argument. He seems more or less back to his usual demeanor, for all his gaze skitters over you and Dale relatively quickly. Good news for now, though it does nothing to calm you down. “I believe I shall return my wife’s side.”

Everyone murmurs their farewell to him and your mind races to come up with a similar excuse to leave the group without having to follow Grandfather—that seemed far too risky.

Another note from a violin pulls at your attention and inspiration strikes. “Lord Dale, would you care to indulge me with a dance? I adore this song,” you say, hoping your smile seems sincere to the others as well as Dale.

He turns to look at you at your words and so do quite a few of the others. You’re suddenly aware that you’re still holding one of his hands in both of yours, covering his palm as thoroughly as you can since you haven’t been able to think of a way to subtly grab the other. Do you look too simpering or clingy, holding on to him like this? You try to remind yourself that Dale is your fiance, that this is well within the bounds of acceptable contact and of acceptable social requests.

Dale looks mildly surprised, but his eyes dart to the musicians and to the paused scholars. While it feels far longer to you, it's truly only a few seconds before he smiles. “Of course, my lady.” He nods to the others, “Please excuse us. We shall endeavor to rejoin you later.”

They all murmur their farewells and none seem to take second glances at Dale or his hands. A few look mildly amused by your hold on him or perhaps your request. Someone makes a joke to his husband about how they used to dance when they were newly married.

Still, you don’t feel the steel rod of tension melt from your spine until you’re on the dancefloor, one of Dale’s hands clasped in your own and the other firmly pressed to your waist. You hope that between the dance’s movements, the lack of the more educated audience, and then your hands covering each other will help mask any sign of Dr. Louisa’s little test until the effects dissipate.

While you’re starting to relax, you stumble as the dance picks up pace. Dale’s hold on you is strong enough that you don’t fall out of step too badly. You try to recenter yourself in the moment, in the dance, before you make a more obvious mistake when Dale asks, “Are you quite alright?”

“Hm?” You look up to see him looking down on you, concern in his expression. You feel some heat in your cheeks as you rush to reassure him, “Oh, yes, I’m fine.” He still doesn’t seem aware of what happened and while you’re glad that means whatever the darkening effect is, it doesn’t hurt, it does mean he’s likely confused to some degree by your desire to dance and then inattention to the movements of it.

Before you can make an excuse, he looks almost guilty as he says, “I hope I didn’t upset you back there. I hadn’t meant to start such an argument with Grandfather.”

Your fingers tighten briefly around his at the reminder, but you try to smile back at him. “I did not think that was your intent.”

“But you do think it was poorly timed,” Dale deduces.

It’s one thing to still be hesitant in large groups, but you have been making strides with being more honest with Dale. “Perhaps, with such a sensitive topic, at a party, with an audience before… Now, was not the best choice.”

Dale sighs, looking out over your head as you turn. “You’re probably right, though I struggle to think of a good time.”

“I doubt there will be, but there will still be better ones than now.”

“You are right, I simply couldn’t resist the opportunity,” Dale replies. He looks back down at you. “Poor judgment on my end, but I grow weary of so much talk around things, vague allusions to topics that can’t be broached because of propriety, time spent with nothing much to show for it.

“It’s been a long few days,” you reply, rather relieved to hear him say as much. “A necessary stepping stone, but a tiring one, especially with these galas thrown into the mix alongside the meetings. I’ve never met or talked to so many new people in my life.” In fact, the act of dancing without having to listen intently and worry about what you say is welcome. You feel yourself settling even further, away from the danger and, while not truly alone, at least currently only expected to converse with Dale.

Dale actually lets out a short laugh at that pronouncement. You cautiously meet his eyes and smile shyly when you see he’s truly not laughing at you, but with you. “It has been rather a marathon of meetings and galas, hasn’t it?” Dale agrees. He gives you a smile that says he’s happy to be in on the secret. “I’m pleased to help you escape whenever you’d like, provided you don’t mind my own company.”

Your smile widens, this is what you’d been wanting—a friend, a partner, an equal who helps you as you help him. “Of course not,” you reassure him, “it's not the same sort of thing at all.”

“No?” he asks, sounding amused.

“Oh!” You blanch at how that might sound and rush to clarify you don’t mean to discount his company, “I didn’t mean that as an insult, rather the opposite, I promise.” Aside from still being very aware of Dale’s physical presence and his attention when alone with him, most other sources of tension and worry that usually tug on you are less.

In fact, the remaining danger seems to be the way he makes the rest of the world fade away, makes you want to lean on him in this dance, far closer than it requires. To spill your thoughts even though there’s no call for it. To ask him the many questions of who he really is and why he does what he does that stay buried so that you can still claim ignorance. Because you are still afraid of what the answers might be.

“No insult taken,” Dale replies, sincere enough that you believe him. He spins you around in time with the music and that must be why you feel lightheaded when he pulls you back. He continues, confiding, “I rather feel the same. There is so much to remember and a chance to breathe is appreciated—well, so to speak.”

You puff out air as the pair of you spin out and away, taking more jumping steps with the music. You briefly trade partners for the next portion of the dance before you’re spun back together. The dance slows enough for you to allow you to attempt to manage your panting.

“Yes,” you agree, out of breath, but enjoying yourself despite the exertion. There had been so many years when you couldn’t have managed more than the first few steps before needing to sit down and you always get a thrill when you remember you can truly dance now. Beyond that, so much close attention on talk and connections and names—the simplicity of dancing in terms of deep thought is making you feel almost fluttery without the weight of concentration. “Dances such as these do rather discourage conversation by virtue of leaving you with little breath to do so.”

“Was that not your plan to avoid conversation with me from the start?” Dale asks, his tone nearly as arch as his eyebrow.

You’re relieved that by now you can tell when he's teasing you. Your cheeks are hot from the exertion, not from said teasing, you reassure yourself as you try to toss back, “You overestimate me, my Lord.”

Dale laughs as he spins you away from him. You trade partners in a whirl of motion before he catches hold of you once more. He tilts his head down in order to speak close to your ear—his words for you alone, “I don’t think I do, my Lady."

[Part Twenty-One]

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