#mission in those clothes. how am i supposed to take her seriously as a queen (ugh) conversing with the ocean queen
Text
Under The Mountain
The Warrior Queen: The Warrior and The King Book II
Chapter 2. Under The Mountain
Warnings: None
*******************************************
It was just past six bells the next morning when there was a soft knock on the door. Kaylea was sitting up in bed reading the daily reports on her handheld, she put a hand on Thorin’s shoulder to raise him.
“Who is it?” She asked, stashing her device.
“Some breakfast for you, my lady,” came a small voice.
Thorin gave her a quick glance and threw back the covers.
“One moment,” Kaylea called. She got up and pulled on her leggings and tunic, pulling the laces tight. Thorin picked up all his clothes he could find and disappeared into the bathroom. Kaylea went to open the door, moving Thorin’s boots to the side where they would be hidden. There were two Dwarf boys standing outside the door, one holding a large covered tray the other a tray with a tall euer and a pitcher of ale, with two mugs and glasses. Kaylea stepped aside so they could come in. Once they had put the trays down on the table they each drew themselves up importantly.
“Navi”, said the younger one. “Kraven,” said the older one. They both bowed. “At your service,” they said in unison.
“At yours and your family’s,” Kaylea replied politely, bowing back. “Kaylea Wolf.”
The two boys set about laying out the breakfast for two, giving her curious looks. Kraven could see she was very tall, but why did she need two breakfasts? Did her people always eat two? And everyone was talking about her and the king outside the gate yesterday.
Finally Navi could stand it no longer. “Are you the great warrior they tell so many tales about, my lady?’
Kaylea smiled. “I suppose I am.”
“Did you really kill a warg with your bare hands?” Navi asked, he found this tall woman a bit scary but he had heard the story many times and had always wanted to know if it was true.
Kaylea laughed. “I had to use my hands. My sword was stuck in another wargs head.” The two boys looked at each other. They obviously had a million questions but were being too polite to ask.
“Is there anything else you require, my lady?” Kraven asked gravely, poking Navi in the side.
“There is one thing,” Kaylea said, watching the two boys’ eyes go wide as Hector rose up from the foot of the bed. “This is Hector. Could you walk with him down to the gate and make sure nobody shoots him. He needs to go outside to hunt.”
Kaylea went to stand by the door as the boys led the way for her wolf, closing it behind them. As soon as she shot the bolt Thorin appeared in his underclothes, and headed over to inspect the breakfast fare. Kaylea surveyed the room, the bedclothes twisted and hanging off the bed, pillows and clothing strewn about. It was pretty obvious what had been going on in here, but maybe not to a couple of young boys.
Thorin took a seat, he poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Kaylea. They ate in silence for some time, having missed dinner the night before. At length Kaylea sat back in her chair, she reached her leg under the table to rest her foot on Thorin’s leg. He slowly ran his fingers down the top of her foot, then up her leg.
“So, who is your wife?” Kaylea asked.
Thorin sighed. “Shurri, one of the fairest princesses in the Seven Families. Her father was very eager to make the match, for obvious reasons. She took some convincing.” Kayea looked questioningly at him. “She is in love with a captain in her father’s guard whom her father would never permit her to marry, when I told her I was also in love with someone else she agreed to the match. It helped that her son will be king of Erebor.”
“But you are friends?”
Thorin nodded. “Yes, she has been a great asset in council and performs all the duties of a queen with grace. The marriage has made our kingdoms strong allies. We get along well enough, but there is no love between us.”
Kaylea smiled at him. “She must be warming up to you if she is carrying a second child.”
Thorin shook his head. “She is from a family of three, I am from a family of three, she believes it is good luck to have three children.” Thorin drained his coffee cup, looking suddenly tired. “We have only been together a half dozen times in the past ten years, she gives me five minutes when the time is right. We like each other well enough to get the job done.”
Ouch, Kaylea thought, though she was secretly pleased. “You do have an heir now, you could say no.”
Thorin chuckled. “You do not know her. She is as stubborn as I am,” he looked resigned. “And it is a good idea to have more than one child.”
She moved her foot to rub the inside of his thigh. “Well, she does not know what she is missing.”
Thorin looked at her through his lashes, he moved her foot between his legs, holding it there. “I save myself for you, my love,” he said. “Now, I am done talking about my wife.”
Kaylea smiled slyly at him, wondering again how she had managed to live without this man the last ten years. “Just one thing, since you are married now should I take these out?” She ran her fingers down one of her braids.
Thorin’s eyes flashed. “Certainly not! You are still my woman, even though we are not married...yet.” He leaned forward. “My relationship with the queen is no secret, and those who were here for the Battle of the Five Armies know who you are.” Thorin sat back in his chair, running his fingers up her leg again, smiling. “I hope you brought that blue dress, I must find an occasion for you to wear it.”
Kaylea chuckled. “I came prepared this time. I brought two dresses.”
It was late morning when Kaylea washed and dressed while Thorin went to his quarters to do the same. She traded her travelling tunic for the soft blue one that Thorin had admired the last time she was in Middle Earth, she left the ring he had given her on the chain around her neck. She took a few moments to catch up on her handheld. War was threatening to break out on the Dubari border, she needed to watch the situation carefully. If it happened she would have to leave in haste, but when Blackwolf had offered her this mission she had jumped at it, not wanting to turn down the opportunity to see Thorin. She had sent Pilot and her aide Aramsham to make contacts on Dubari, if things went according to plan she should be done before they came back. When Kaylea stepped out her door she was surprised to find a richly dressed Dwarf woman waiting for her. She had an air of importance about her as she looked Kaylea over appraisingly. Kaylea studied her closely, her hair, the shape of her eyes. This must be Thorin’s sister she thought to herself. Kaylea bowed low.
“Kaylea Wolf, at your service, my lady,” she said. “I assume you are Princess DIs?”
“You presume right,” the Dwarf replied. She looked Kaylea up and down again, shaking her head. “So here you are, the famous warrior woman who stole my brother’s heart. I have been telling him to give you up for ten years, now I see why he cannot.”
“My heart belongs to him as well, your highness” Kaylea replied seriously. “I apologize if I caused any scandal at the gate yesterday, I assure you that was not my intention.”
Dis waved her hand dismissively. “That was on the king. He should have waited until you were inside and greeted you properly,” she gave Kaylea another appraising glance. “Although it looks like he also took care of that.”
The look she gave her was so sharp Kaylea almost checked to make sure her tunic was laced up, but she knew it was. None of the bite marks were visible.
“And you are wearing his braids!” Dis exclaimed, shaking her head again. “Why not just go ahead and marry him, girl?”
Kaylea smiled. “He has asked me more than once, I have refused him. I have no words for how much I love your brother, but I cannot be his queen. I have many obligations in my own land, I cannot remain in Middle Earth. I cannot bear children, which is a queen’s first duty and, as the son of Durin, his children must be of pure blood to avoid any challenges to his successors. I told him to marry a Dwarf princess and raise a family, I know you may find this hard to believe but I hoped he would find love with the mother of his children. If he had I would have stepped aside, it would not have been easy, but I would have done it. And I am quite sure you have already heard all of this.”
Dis looked at her, this time approvingly. “Yes, but not from your own mouth. I hear the truth in your words,” she replied. “And I must thank you for saving my brother’s life, I understand he would not have survived his injuries without your medicines.” She paused. “You would not happen to have any more of that youth potion you used on him?”
Kaylea laughed. I like her, she thought to herself. “I do not. And it is merely a medicine we use to heal injuries in my land, I had no idea it would have such a strong effect on a Dwarf.” Kaylea grew serious again. “If you have a moment, may ask you about the queen? Is she popular with the people?”
“Yes. She is pretty and generous and smart, a perfect queen in almost every way. She is very popular with her subjects.”
“Then I will encourage Thorin to be discreet. I have no wish to undermine her, she is the one who must live in Erebor.”
Dis smiled at her. “The fact the king and queen do not love each other is well known to all, it does not affect their popularity. Many remember you, your actions at the Battle of the Five Armies and on the way to Rivendell are told and retold in story and song. Now that I have set eyes on you myself I can see that you would be hard to forget.” She put a hand on Kaylea’s arm. “If you want to be discreet you are going to have to take out those braids and my brother will not stand for that, I am sure.”
Before Kaylea could answer she looked up and saw Thorin approaching accompanied by a couple of guards. He was wearing a richly embroidered emerald green shirt and vest with a wide silver belt, looking every inch a king. His fine features and short beard had always set him a bit apart from the other Dwarves, now that he was also so young and tall he looked even more different. Kaylea lowered herself on one knee and Dis bowed as he approached, Thorin nodded his acknowledgement. He stepped forward, giving his sister a dark look and offering Kaylea his hand.
“Are you ready for a tour of my restored kingdom, my lady?” He asked.
She set her hand in his and let him lead the way. As soon as they were out of earshot Thorin asked. “What were you two talking about?”
“You,” Kaylea replied, with a sly smile.
Erebor was much changed since the last time Kaylea had walked the halls. In the days after the dragon it had been a dark and empty place, now it buzzed with life, the halls filled with light and the citizens going about their business. In the residential areas there were Dwarves coming off their shifts in the mines, others delivering groceries and laundry, children on their way to school. In the wider streets were many shops filled with goods of every description. All the Dwarves bowed low to Thorin as he passed, some of the men caught Kaylea’s eye and nodded at her. No doubt, those who remembered her from the great battle. Thorin smiled at all his subjects, stopping occasionally to speak to individuals - asking women about their husbands, inquiring the price of some item, or handing out coins to the children. Kaylea watched him, impressed with how easily he wore the mantle of king. And he was obviously enormously popular with his subjects. Kaylea was careful to keep a bit of distance between them as they walked. It was one thing for her and Thorin to carry on in private, quite another to do it in front of his subjects. They had not talked about it in advance but Thorin seemed to sense what she was doing and kept himself at arm’s length, only occasionally moving close to put a hand on her back or hold her hand. Knowing her interest in engineering matters, Thorin pointed out all the improvements they had made to the city and Kaylea wanted to see the work in some areas, going down hidden halls and climbing on equipment to get a better idea of what had been done.
Thorin bought apples for them and the guards at a stand in one of the markets. The shopkeeper tried to give them to him, but he insisted on paying. They ate them as they headed to the forges.
“It seems to be all Dwarves in the city,” Kaylea remarked. The city could obviously house many more people. “Is all commerce with other races done in Dale?”
Thorin nodded. “We keep Erebor to ourselves. There are some from Dale who work here, but we keep all the traders away. That way we can control prices for our folk.”
Kaylea nodded. They came then to the forges, all of them lit and Dwarves busy making swords, armor and down at the far end, fine silver ornaments. Kaylea noticed a rack of sword blades with the same single-edged, curved design as her own. She lifted one off the rack, swinging it by the tang. The balance was excellent.
“Your contribution to the wealth of Erebor,” Thorin explained, watching her. “Those swords are much sought after, they hold their edge much better than those that are made traditionally. And we use thrice-forged steel, not as good as the one you gave me but a big improvement on what we were making.”
Kaylea put the blade back on the rack, shaking her head. She should have known the first thing Thorin would do with the sword she gave him was try to replicate it. Only that steel did not exist in Middle Earth.
Kaylea saw one of the biggest changes in the treasury. Gone were the giant bins of coin, in their place were a series of strongrooms with gold bars stacked to the ceilings.
“This was your best idea, my love,” Thorin told her. “Taking the coin out of circulation increased the value fifty percent, and it is so much easier to manage this way. Strange we never thought of doing it before.”
Kaylea smiled at him. “Perhaps because it is a bit harder to admire this way.”
Thorin frowned at her. “My grandfather used to spend days down here, just looking at his treasure. I did too, when I first returned.” He shook his head, smiling. “After I recovered from my wounds I found I never think about it anymore. Just as I never wear that crown anymore.”
“That is a good thing, my king,” Kaylea said. “They are only tools and symbols, they do not make you who you are.”
The next morning Thorin suggested they take a ride up Ravenhill. It was a beautiful day, the warm sun accompanied in the sky by a few wispy clouds, new leaves turning all the trees bright green, the smell of new grass in the air. Thorin’s horse was a pretty little bay mare, with the graceful curved neck and short back of a horse bred in the west of Rohan. They were sure-footed and swift, made for life in the rocky hills of that part of the land. Kaylea was impressed with her conditioning, she was barely blowing after a swift climb up the steep side of Ravenhill. Thorin looked very comfortable on her back, Kaylea had not realized he was such an accomplished horseman.
The two of them dismounted and stood side by side, the land laid out before them. The rain during the night had washed the air clean and they could see for many miles. The Iron Hills were just visible in the distance, the Long Lake and the land beyond stretching away to the south.
“That is where we will be riding soon,” Thorin said, nodding towards the lands past the lake.
“Where I will be riding, my king,” Kaylea replied. “You will be staying here where you belong.”
“I belong with you,” Thorin replied. He reached up to touch the side of her face. “Now that I see you again after all this time, I know that better than ever.” Thorin looked out over the land, a faraway look in his eyes. “For years I dreamed of nothing but reclaiming Erebor, now I have done that. My line is secure, my kingdom prospers, I have all that my grandfather had and more, all that a Dwarf my age could want. I should be content, but I am not. Whatever magic you used to heal my injuries has made me young again, I find myself again with a young man’s dreams. Adventure, risk, freedom from responsibilities, sometimes I feel the life of a king is crushing me.”
Kaylea was looking into the distance. She said something in a strange language, when she looked at Thorin she saw his questioning glance.
“It is a saying among my people. When you have been too long in one place and want to travel we say you have ‘itchy feet’”.
Thorin chuckled. “I like that! Yes, I have itchy feet. They itch to be on the road again, to be on an adventure, see new things and do some fighting.” He looked at Kaylea. “If the Dark Lord is rebuilding his power, I would like to see that for myself.”
“It is a dark and dangerous road, my king. We must travel for days through empty lands, and when we reach Mordor I do not know what we will find. The forces of the enemy for certain, of what manner and how many I cannot say.” She looked over at Thorin to find him smiling at her.
“If you are trying to convince me not to go, you are not doing a very good job,” he said. ”I have not always lived a life of comfort and ease, I remember well the trials of life in the Wild. Perhaps I have not trained as hard as I should but the forces of the enemy do not frighten me.”
“They should, my king.”
Thorin took her hand, interlacing her fingers with his. He wrapped his arm over hers to bring her close, kissing the back of her hand. “I fear nothing when you are next to me.”
It was two evenings later that Thorin asked Kaylea if she would dress for dinner. A group of Elves from Lorien had arrived unexpectedly that day, the first visit to Erebor of the Fair Folk from that land and he wanted to show them some Dwarvish hospitality. Kaylea was surprised but glad they had come since she could get much information from them about the lands to the South, where she would soon ride. The dress she chose to wear was the more formal of the two she had brought with her. It was pale silver silk gathered in silver clasps on top of her shoulders that left her arms bare. A second piece of fabric flowed between the clasps over her back to the floor, covering the cutaway back. The drape of the dress was such that it managed to appear modest and revealing at the same time. Kaylea had swept her hair up, the silver beads and Thorin’s ring were the only ornaments she wore.
Thorin had said he would meet her outside the reception hall and he was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, wanting to see what she was wearing. Kaylea smiled when she saw him, he was also wearing silver. A thin silver high-collared shirt, topped with a darker silver fur-trimmed vest over his black breeches and boots. Kaylea thought he looked devastatingly handsome.
Thorin gave a low whistle when he saw her, regarding her hungrily as she came down the stairs.
“You did come prepared,” he said, a finger tracing the plunging neckline of her dress. Kaylea put her hands inside his vest, feeling his body under his shirt.
“You look good enough to eat,” she told him, drawing him close to kiss him. Time always seemed to stop when they were kissing each other and it was a long moment before they pulled back.
Thorin ran his fingers over her neck, down the front of her dress. “I have such jewels with which I would adorn your neck,” he sighed. “Tiaras of spun gold, light as spiderweb. It is my curse that I fall in love with the only woman in the world with no interest in jewelry.” He reached into his tunic for a leather pouch. “But I believe I have the perfect thing for that dress.”
Kaylea looked at him as she undid the strings of the pouch. “I have no occasion to wear jewelry in my own country, my king.” She reached into the pouch and pulled out a silver necklace. At first glance it looked like a heavy silver chain but as she ran her fingers along it she could see it was four strands spun loosely together, where they parted tiny sapphires flashed, seemingly suspended between them. Kaylea stared at it, amazed. Thorin smiled, he did not like to think about how long it had taken to make but her reaction was worth it. He took it from her and stepped behind her to fasten it, giving her a kiss on the side of her neck.
Kaylea put a hand on the necklace. “Once again you give me something of which I feel unworthy.”
Thorin leaned to the side to look at her, surprised. “Unworthy? How can you not be worthy?”
Kaylea sighed. “Something this fine should be for a woman who can wear it daily at your side, I feel I repay you poorly for such magnificent gifts.”
Thorin gave her a curious look. “That is your choice, not mine. We cannot decide who we want to fall in love with, but we do choose what to do afterward,” he would have gone on, but Balin appeared out of the Hall, looking for the king.
“What is keeping you...oh!” He gave Kaylea a startled look and then bowed low. “Good evening, my lady. I must say you look rather stunning.”
“Good evening, Master Balin!” Kaylea replied. “Thank you. We will be right behind you.” Thorin offered her his arm and they went into the hall. Kaylea had questioned him about whether it was appropriate for them to walk in together, since he was now a married man. Thorin brushed her concerns aside saying he was the King and he would have dinner with whoever he pleased. While Thorin was technically right, she did not think it very wise. However, the party would just be Dwarves close to Thorin who already knew and the Elves, who would not care. The servants would gossip, but it was not like she was sitting on a throne next to him in the Hall of Kings.
The reception hall was a smaller, more welcoming place than the Great Hall. There were fires burning in the big fireplaces and many places to sit, along the walls or in comfortable chairs by the fires. It was decorated with swords and shields from all Seven Kingdoms, and several large tapestries depicting events from the Battle of the Five Armies. Kaylea swept the room with her eyes, she saw Balin, Gloin, Fili, Dis and several other Dwarf women who were likely their wives, Dori and two other Dwarves she did not recognize. There was a group of four golden-haired Elves standing by the fire drinking from long stemmed glasses, one looked over and smiled at Kaylea as she came in with the King.
Thorin guided her around the room introducing her to the Dwarves she had not met, one hand on her back or his arm around her waist. There could be no question of the understanding between them.
As they approached the party of Elves Balin came over to make the introductions, but the Elf who had smiled at Kaylea stepped forward to greet her with an amused smile. “Kaylea Wolf, you turn up in the most surprising places!” He said, looking pointedly at her dress. “And looking so ravishing. I was not aware you owned any clothes that were not black.”
Thorin burst out laughing at this. Kaylea laughed too. “Thank you, Haldir. It is also quite surprising to see the Fair Folk in the halls of Erebor. What happened, you forget how to make knives?”
Haldir laughed. “Ever since Durin’s Folk returned to the Lonely Mountain we have been considering opening trade between our kingdoms, they have been too long estranged. We came to Dale on other business and thought we would request an audience with the King.” He inclined his head to Thorin, who nodded politely back. “But you must tell me what brings you here, you never seem to arrive with glad tidings.”
Kaylea nodded gravely. “It seems that is never my task.”
Just then dinner was called and they all went through to the dining hall. Thorin sat at the end of the table, Fili on his left. Dis sat in what would be the queen’s seat at the other end. Kaylea was seated a few seats down the table from Thorin, next to the Elves, which gave her a chance to ask Haldir about the route she would soon be travelling. They spent much of the meal in deep conversation about the disposition of the lands between Erebor and Mordor.
Thorin watched Kaylea closely throughout the dinner. Mostly he liked looking at her in that dress, but he found it interesting that she and the Elves treated each other as equals. She did not hold them in awe, as so many in Middle Earth did and Haldir seemed to have genuine respect for her. Thorin made a mental note to ask her about it.
Kaylea felt Thorin’s eyes on her many times during the evening, and would often look over to meet his gaze. She did wish she could have sat next to him, but this was more appropriate, and they would be together later anyway. At one point during the evening Kaylea noticed Thorin had undone a couple of buttons on his shirt, as the room was quite warm. After that every time she looked at him all she could think about was unbuttoning the rest and taking that shirt off.
The adventures of The Warrior and The King also on AO3 & FanFiction, links on my homepage (author is akdogdriver). Now also on Wattpad.
If anyone wants to be added to my tag list, please let me know!
@thequeenoferebor
#fanfiction#thorin oakenshield#thorin x oc#thorin fanfic#tolkien fanfic#true love#the hobbit#the hobbit movies#fantasy adventure
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thanks to @marvel-and-dc-geek for the tag! This was so much fun!! (Sorry it’s taken so long lol)
1. Which avenger would you recruit to help you plan your birthday?
Tony, for sure. I love birthdays, especially mine, and this is the one time where this introvert wants a big bash and be the center of attention. I wanna feel like a queen on my birthday.
2. Which avenger would you switch suits with for a day?
I’d totally trade with Scott. I think it would be fricking awesome to shrink and fly on an ant and stuff like that!
3. Which avenger would you want to train with? It depends on what I’d like to train.
Like hand-to-hand combat? Natasha or Cap. Probably Natasha tbh because she’s a bad ass. Like seriously.
4. Oh No, you need help! Which avenger would you call if you’re in trouble?
If it’s legal trouble, I’m calling Matt Murdock. If it’s like any other kind of trouble, I think I’d call Scott. I can definitely trust him.
5. Uh oh, you got arrested, which avenger were you with?
Scott. We’d totally get in trouble for doing something crazy. How were we supposed to know that was illegal? It was fun though.
6. The Avengers are playing basketball, which avenger would you pick first to be on your team?
I’d definitely recruit Sam first. Athletic, fricking awesome, and can dish out the friendly competition trash talk. Heck yeah!
7. You’re trying to make your ex jealous, which avenger do you pretend to date?
Listen. He’s an ex for a reason, so let’s leave his sorry ass behind and see which Avenger wants to date me instead.
8. You’re out for a good time, and need a wing man/woman, which avenger do you pick for the job?
Ooh. Tough. I would have to go with Scott or Tony. I think a good time is inevitable with either of those two.
9. You woke up with a hangover, which avenger were you drunk with?
Well, let’s see. I can see it being Thor. I can also see it being Tony who was curious to see what kind of drunk I would be since I’ve never gotten drunk before.
10. You’re going on a road trip, which avenger do you ride with?
Ooh! I’d go with Scott! We’d have a blast with road trip music blaring and stopping at random places to see what kind of cool stuff is out there.
11. No way! You slept with one of the avengers. Which avenger did you wake up next to?
That would be whichever Avenger said they wanted to date me from question 7.
12. Your favorite band is having a concert, which avenger goes with you?
Hm, that’s tough. If it’s a Skillet concert, I’m taking Tony with me. If it’s something like the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, I’m taking Bruce. I think he’d like that.
13. You’re going shopping, and need second opinions, which avenger do you trust to help you pick out outfits?
Okay, this is how I see it going down. I’m more of the type who would rather shop by myself for clothes and stuff, and Tony’s like, “Okay, but you need someone to give you second opinions. Someone you can flaunt in front of and they tell you that outfit is *so* you. So, I’m going with you. We’re getting Starbucks first. It’ll be great.” And I’ll be like, “Uh. Okay?”
14. Your parents want to meet one of your new friends, which avenger do you take to meet your parents?
All of them! :D
15. You get injured on a mission, which avenger would you trust to be in charge of your care?
Bruce or Natasha sound like really good options to me.
16. Your room is a mess, which avenger do you pick to be your butler, and clean your room?
Wanda, simply because I imagine her powers can get the job done so quickly she wouldn’t even break a sweat.
17. You wanna play a prank on the team, but need help. Which avenger do you pick to help you prank the rest of the team?
Scott or Clint. Or both. Yeah, both. Let’s go with that. Oh, that would be so much fun.
18. Time to buy Christmas presents, which avenger is the easiest for you to buy for?
Scott because he’s a nerd like I am.
19. You’re going a mission but only one other person can go. Which member of the team, do you choose to go with you?
Literally depends upon the mission honestly, but if I have to pick one, then I’ll go with Cap.
Tag time! I’m tagging @stargazingcarol @the-antman @necromancer0225 @langscassandras @lang-vers003 @caraldanvars and anyone else who wants to play. You don’t have to of course.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Into the future partI
Doing 31 prompts. #fictober19
There is no rhythm or reason just the beloved characters in short or multi-chapter stories.
#arrow fanfiction @fictober-event #olicity Rated; general
Chapter 1 prompt:
“It will be fun, trust me.”
Hope you enjoy!
Entering the old bookstore situated just off Quincy Market, the seemly gothic girl glances at an old bookshelf that needs a good dusting. With Halloween coming this month she and a college roommate decided to finally enter this establishment that has given both girls the heebie jeebies. Like a summoning that could not be resisted.
“It will be fun, trust me.”
Those famous words always used before the fun would vanish and despair and fear will win over. As Felicity finger swipes at an old book cover as she tries to make the words out. She doesn’t see a pair of eyes glancing her way from the open balcony observing the girls in a quaint little shop that seems to only be opened around the Autumnal Equinox.
Her fingers hoover over a certain book. The way her heart speeds up it seems as if she can’t help but touch the really small scripted Latin words on the binding. “saecula saeculorum diligit animarum” She has no idea what it truly says. She understands some of the words like ‘Souls’ and the word ‘love’ It’s the deep sultry voice of a woman who tells her that she has invoked a vision of her future love.
“A what?” says the seventeen-year-old confused, she just came in because her roomy said it would be fun to go into this cryptic store during the Halloween season. There was no way she cares to find love of any sort. Love isn’t anywhere in her top ten priority list as she’s studying at M.I.T. Her passion is technology. She has no room for silly love notions. “I’m good. No need for any…” she doesn’t get to finish her sentence as she’s transported into a purple haze and a man she’s never seen before welcomes her.
He looks old, has a very distinct haircut and seems to favor metallic clothing. She gets a good look at his cape and she can just tell right there that this man is really not her type. “Who are you?”
“For you should not be here. You have created a paradox. It is your offspring who should be standing by my side.”
“My what?” Felicity glances around and its really devoid of anything. “Mister? I don’t know who you are? I actually don’t really care. I’m not into you so bring me home right now!”
“I am the Monitor.”
“Yea, well I’m Felicity Smoak and I’m a minor so you freaky robo-man that lives in a bookshelf take me home right this instant!”
“I know of who you are. You are actually of great significance. Though you being upon this dimension before 2040 is of great concern.”
“Buddy, it’s 2006 I think you’re off your rocker.”
“Mrs. Queen, I make no mistakes. You are destined to be of great importance but towards the crisis you helped facilitate bringing in the wrong people into your circle. They are your greatest threat.”
“So, I become a queen? What the dark ages happen again and I get my own castle?” Rolling her eyes at her own words. She must be dreaming because this is just to wild and way too far out then any reality could ever muster.
“No, you aren’t a queen per se. You marry a queen and it is your child…”
“Wait! Wait. Hold on. Your telling me I’m married to a woman. No offense to that but are you sure? I mean I’ve never been attracted to any friends in that way. Oh my gosh… Is this like a coming out party in my own head? I… I need to sit down.”
The Monitor hardens his fists. This conversation isn’t particular going according to any plan. He needs to just state facts before this child before him brings on certain doom. “Your destiny is always parallel to your husband, Oliver Queen as long as you find each other in each dimension it is a love of ages.”
The teenage girl just glares at the out of place dressed man. She is relieved that he’s not her future love interest she would seriously think of what her life choices have been to be into a tinman. Yes, she always loved the movie Wizard of Oz but come on, she’s also a teen that enjoys grunge music and her gothic look. This man is just so futuristic and he makes her feel queasy so hopefully that isn’t how love supposed to feel.
“Okay, so I’m married. I guess there are worse fates. I mean I’ve always seen myself fighting the man.” With his stare on her she shrugs. “Hey I have ambitions. Becoming a cyber-fighter for good. It must be relevant because I’m talking to you. Aren’t I?”
His sigh tells her enough. She must be annoying him. He turns to a new haze and she just watches as it becomes more fluid and wonders if they are going to go through.
Instead a man walks out and stops short. Felicity can see that somehow she is recognizable to him but she doesn’t know him at all.
“What is she doing here?”
“It seems your wife found a way to cross time and space. She’s looking for you.”
Felicity gives the tinman the stink eye. She never came looking for anyone. Particularly older men. Just yuck. She just wants to go back to where she comes from and run out of the crazy bookstore.
“This version of Felicity is to young. She’s not my wife.” Oliver looks at the younger version of his wife. He doesn’t know what dimension he is in but no one can replace the love of his life.
“Hey buddy. You’d be lucky to even have me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just you’re a kid. I…” Oliver turns to the Monitor. “What is going on?”
“It seems that she is here to help you. Her fiery spirit opened a gateway.” The Monitor than begins to walk towards the still fluid gateway that Oliver came through. “It seems she is another key once placed by design. Rather fascinating. I must gather intel on this phenomenon.” The man disappears.
Felicity now observing her so-called future husband, “What year are you from?”
“It’s 2019. I left you with our child.”
“What do you mean left? As abandoned? Because that is just super sleazy. My dad…”
“Felicity? I had no choice. Saving my family is my top priority.”
She looks at the void they are in. She doesn’t feel the confidence he does. Somehow she states it, “Wow! That is just some whopper that you must feed yourself. You abandoned your family! There is always a choice.”
Oliver just looks at the teenage version of his wife-to-be. She really does have this fire inside of her. Knowing now that her story about Cooper and how her resilience dimmed somewhat actually pains him. That she’ll coast along until his mission gives her something to fight for again.
“You’ll always be amazing.”
She’s looking up at him and for the first time since meeting tinman she’s actually comfortable. “I’m not one to be bashful to complements but I don’t understand any of this.”
“I need you to go live your life.” With a head tilt she makes, it has him reading her, knowing it is an inquiry. “You said you’d always find me. I’ll hold you to that.” Her eyes seek his and she smiles for the first time since entering this weird dream. His words soft but she can tell he means it, “I will always love you.”
“Even if this is the weirdest fantasy ever. I will find you… again.”
He just winks at her. “I’m counting on it. Goodbye Felicity Smoak Queen.” Without her noticing the strange bubble that is wrapping around her, he just pushes a stain of her dark hair from her face needing some small contact with her. It brings a newfound hope in him once again. They’ll find one another again. He knows it. Then poof she is gone. He just takes a moment and walks through the portal there is much to do and he can’t wait to see her again, hopefully in her older version form he has come to love.
Felicity gulps as she takes in her surroundings again. She back in the forsaken bookstore and just looks to hightail it out of there.
A strong woman’s voice stops her before truly departing. “A glimpse of things to come. Though you’ve been granted a way to change an occurrence for that future is dreary my child.”
“How?”
“Take this key. On any keyhole you’ll be granted this world.” Felicity looks around. There is a lot of books in this tiny store. She notices her friend isn’t in the store anymore. “Do as you will and heed to protect those you love and our world.”
“Our world?” The girl shakes her head at the nonsense but just as quickly there is an understanding. She has a chance to save the love of her life. If that makes any sense? She just met an older good looking man that she supposes she marries in the future. She now wonders about this Oliver Queen? She’ll have to take a look at what the internet says about him. Taking the key and saying her goodbyes.
Leaving the shop to look for her roommate. The moment she steps out the brightness of the day’s sun has her squint her eyes and as she quickly turns to look for the name of the bookstore. She gawks as she is now standing upon a small vacant alley. There is nothing there.
As she stands there confused, the world around her is bustling with people walking around not particularly noticing the small alley. Her fingers dig down a pocket and only with her hand wrapped around a brass key does she know that everything that just occurred is real.
Her eyes still focusing on the emptiness before her that when a hand reaches her shoulder she jumps startled. Facing the perpetrator.
“Felicity, where have you been?”
“What do you mean? We went into the bookstore together.”
“I know and I have no clue where that place is anymore but while I was browsing some old looking books you basically left. I said it would be fun but the place was a total bore. No tech books in sight.”
Felicity just nods her head. “You know what we need?”
As her roommate looks to where her friend is regarding and they both call out, “Ice Cream!” Yep, ice cream will make things better. As she takes one last look at the empty lot she knows the strangeness in her life is just beginning. Whomever this Oliver guy is… he is now her field of study. She will find him again.
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shadows on the Horizon - 7
Pairing: Winter Soldier! Bucky Barnes x OFC! Layne Hardin // Thor Odinson x OFC! Susanna Sweet | Word Count: 2.4k | Warnings: None | A/N: This is a sequel to my story Like a Whisper in the Night | Shadows on the Horizon Masterlist
Susanna stepped out of her bathroom with a towel tied around her body while using a second to squeeze water from her red hair. She looked up as the doorknob to the apartment turned and smiled softly as the lumbering frame of her boyfriend slipped in.
“Long day?” Sue asked, taking in his ragged appearance and tired eyes.
It had been a whirlwind romance and admittedly a complete accident. She had come to the tower when she got a frantic voicemail from Layne about having been kidnapped and being unable to get a hold of the team. Sick with worry she had hopped on her motorcycle and drove all the way from Minnesota to New York barely stopping. When things with Layne had settled and she met Thor the connection was instantaneous. She was a forty-year-old divorcee and had given up on the thought of love, putting all of her energy into her music and her friends. Thor was the first man in a long time to make her feel beautiful and wanted.
She would be the first to admit that this whole thing had gotten a little out of control. Susanna went from hiding the fact that she was born with the mutant gene to now being an Avenger. Albeit, an Avenger that was off the radar. Layne, Wanda, and Natasha were constantly hinting that she should be joining them during press conferences, especially after missions that succeeded thanks to her, they always press how more women on the team the better. But she just couldn’t, she had grown kids and the last thing she needed was for them to be worried sick about her all the time.
She had already been chewing over how she would bring up to Thor and the team that she would have to step away for a little while. She owned a mechanic shop back in Minnesota and while she had a very competent team running it in her absence, between the tour and the Avengers it’s been almost six months since she last stopped in to make sure her business was still standing. The weight of her responsibilities back home battling the taste of actually contributing to keeping the world safe was starting to wear on her.
“Only because you were not beside me,” Thor answered with a dopey smile and followed her into their bedroom.
Sue was digging through her clothes drawers trying to find something comfy to wear, her muscles pleasantly sore from her work out earlier. Thor walked up behind her and wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her up and against his hard body. Sue giggled as his beard tickled up the side of her neck as he spattered kisses along the soft expanse of skin.
“A good thing I wasn’t, you never pay attention when I’m around,” Susanna teased and Thor simply hummed in agreement.
“How can I? You are the most distracting creature I have ever come across.”
Sue felt the heat of a blush creep up her chest and flare the tips of her ears. “Flatterer.” She spun in his grasp so she could lean up and catch his lips with her own and creep her arms up around his neck.
Thor growled in want and softly bit at Sue’s bottom lip until she allowed his tongue access. They made outstanding in the middle of their room until both needed to break away, dizzy from lack of air.
“How was Layne this morning?” Thor whispered, not wanting to break the soft mood between them as he rested his forehead on hers.
Sue shrugged, a slight frown creasing her features. “I think it was just a fluke. We’ll have to see if it’s a pattern that’s going to continue, but I think she scared herself a bit.”
Thor placed a kiss on her forehead before sliding his arms down under the round of her ass and lifting her easily into his arms. Susanna let out a less than delicate squawk of surprise, still not used to being handled like a delicate little thing like Thor often did, only for him to carry her over to the bed.
“What did they say about Barnes?” Susanna asked, running her hands up Thor’s chest as he climbed onto the bed to hover over her.
“Rogers seems to think that he can be given some extent of trust. He’s not a mindless machine like he was last time I suppose, I was not around when problems with Barnes were happening in the past so I couldn’t really say. He reminds me of how he was when I first met him after he was brought back from Africa.”
“So, what? Are we rotating babysitting duty?” Sue questioned, tangling her fingers in Thor’s blond locks.
Thor sighed, darkness falling over his expression that had Sue furrowing her brows in concern.
“Unfortunately, I am needed back with my people for a little while. There are apparently issues with the government and our settlement. They gave us land to make our own, but they have asked that we follow their laws. We are Asgardian but also Norwegian and my people are finding issue with that as are the locals. My people still see me as the king, but Norway has a…president? And they have laws that are not our own,” Thor sighed again and fell to his side next to Sue where he buried his face in her neck once more, inhaling her scent to bring him comfort.
“Well, being refugees can’t be easy, but you can’t exactly colonize a chunk of Norway and declare it Asgard. You’ll start a war,” Susanna insisted softly.
“But they gave it to us,” Thor pressed.
“That’s not how things work.”
Thor grumbled into her skin and sucked softly on her earlobe. Susanna huffed with amusement at Thor’s antics, even during a rather serious discussion the man was insatiable.
“Will you come with me? Help me navigate the laws of this world?” Thor asked, his voice soft and small.
Susanna sat up and looked down at Thor. “I’m not some kind of political lawyer, Thor. I’m a mechanic. You should talk to Pepper about borrowing some of the legal team.”
“Well. Will you come for support?” He looked up at her with big blue puppy dog eyes and Sue sighed in frustration.
“I can’t just go to Norway, Thor. I need to go back to my home too at some point. Check in with my family and the shop. And I can’t just leave Layne for an extended period with everything going on.”
“But I need you,” Thor said, pouting slightly.
“I have my own responsibilities.” Susanna insisted.
Thor sighed in defeat but then a wide smile took over his face. “Why did I have to fall in love with such a strong woman?”
Susanna mirrored his smile and reached over to run her thumb over his scruffy cheek before sobering and looking him seriously in the eyes. “Because no one else will put up with your bullshit, my king.” She teased lightly.
“Hmm. Well, how about I show my queen my fealty?” Thor suggested and rolled so he was caging her in between his thick arms once more.
~*~
Layne sat curled up in the corner of the long sectional couch in the common space. Everyone had their dinners and cleaned up after themselves and then parted to do their own things. It was Wednesday and normally on Wednesdays those who weren’t on missions would get together and watch a movie or just hang out and socialize, but after the incident with Bucky and no one really getting any rest after long missions it went unspoken that no one would be coming to hang out that night.
So Layne enjoyed the expansive room by herself, curled up with an acoustic guitar and notebooks scattered on the cushions around her. Snow was falling softly outside and Layne had turned on the gas fireplace when the sun dipped down behind the other buildings. It was quiet and cozy and Layne loved the small moments like this that she could get in the tower. Normally she had to lock herself away in her apartment for this sort of peace, but she couldn’t stand being in her old room right now.
As she slowly plucked at the strings of her guitar, pausing every so often to scribble a number or dot on a blank piece of sheet music, her gaze flashed back to the windows. Where it had just been softly snowing only a few minutes earlier suddenly sheets of freezing rain were falling from the sky followed by a flash of lightning and an immediate crash of thunder. Layne sighed and went back to her music, trying not to feel bitter.
When the little hairs on her arms and the back of her neck rose she didn’t falter.
“Escape from your watchdog?” Layne asked, not even bothering to look up from her notebooks.
“He’s a bad handler,” the Soldier answered stepping into Layne’s field of vision.
Layne hummed and looked up at him to examine his face. The emotionless mask was gone, replaced with one that was pinched in concern and confusion. There was a soft sparkle behind his eyes, it gave Layne hope.
“That’s because he’s not a handler,” Layne corrected going back to her notebooks. “He’s your best friend. Where is he?”
“Medical.”
Layne’s eyes flicked up to him sharply and he winced, just barely, in what seemed to be guilt.
“Sparring get out of hand?” she asked nonchalantly. It wasn’t anything new, Steve or Bucky usually ended up in medical getting their nose set or a shoulder relocated every time they sparred. Both were too stubborn to let the other win.
“I broke his cheekbone, maybe his eye socket.” The Soldier admitted and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Layne motioned to the empty expanse of couch and the Soldier hesitantly sat down on one of the ends, a good three cushions away from her.
“This arm is lighter than Hydra’s. Hurts less,” he continued.
“Shuri is very good at what she does,” Layne murmured, trying to keep her heart rate steady and looking focused on what she was doing.
The Soldier was now actively seeking her out, trying to hold a conversation with her. This was good, this was what she wanted. If she kept playing hard to get like this then maybe they could start getting somewhere. She tried to pretend like she wasn’t bothered or concerned about his uncomfortable fidgeting as her pencil scratched along the notebook. This felt so much more familiar to her, her sitting and working on music while Bucky would watch TV with the sound off or just read on the other end of the couch, that she started to forget that it was different.
It was when the feeling of his intense gaze on her got too heavy that she startled out of her reverie and looked up at him.
“Who is with Steve now?” Layne asked after clearing her throat.
“Natalia.”
Layne hummed and plucked a little at her strings. “Does that bother you?”
The Soldier’s eyes moved over Layne’s face, he could hear her heart pick up with nervousness and he watched as her tongue poked out and anxiously wet her lips. His gaze moved down to her long fingers that wrapped around the neck of her guitar, his eyes narrowed as a memory surfaced. He had gotten it for her for her birthday earlier in the year. It looked like the one he had seen from her memories before they were ever together. In her memory, he had watched as her father smashed it against her bedroom wall. He remembered Layne cried when she opened the case and it seemed to get more play than her electric.
“No. Natalia doesn’t remember us,” he admitted finally. It used to hurt him, that her eyes would shift over his with nothing more than simple recognition - like the kind of look you’d give an acquaintance. But then Layne had joined the team and suddenly it didn’t matter. Bucky had kept Layne at an arms length for months after seeing her had stirred the Soldier, Bucky had felt it, the animalistic need to protect the new girl.
“Does that bother you?” Layne pressed and the Soldier shook his head.
“Not anymore,” he answered immediately and honestly, his eyes connecting with hers.
She sucked in a small, sharp breath and broke their gaze to look at her fingers on the fret board, a soft pink blush gracing her cheeks. Clearing her throat she looked back up at him through her lashes as he inched a little closer to her. She smirked and moved a pile of notebooks on his side of the couch over to the other side.
“I wanted to thank you,” he said slowly, lacing his fingers together in his lap and cracking the knuckles of his right hand nervously.
“For what?” Layne asked, setting her guitar aside and pulling her legs up under her and wrapping her arms around her knees.
“For not being afraid.”
Layne tilted her head to the side in confusion and chewed on her bottom lip. “Why would I ever be afraid of you?”
The Soldier shrugged. “Well, I’m not him,” he swallowed hard, his gaze on the floor darting back and forth as he tried to recall something. “I’ve done all the bad things.”
Layne scooted closer and the Soldier flinched, Layne hesitated before throwing caution to the wind and moving right next to him. She held her hand out to him, palm up. “Do you trust me?”
The Soldier looked between her and her hand. She was leaving him with the choice, just like she always did. He took it last night because he was so ridiculously tired, but now when he was awake and aware it was a different story.
“I have always seen you. Please, let me show you,” Layne begged. “Just give me your hand.”
The Soldier hesitated for a moment more before reaching out with his right hand to brush his calloused fingers across the soft skin of her palm. She smiled softly and gently laced her fingers with his. This time instead of the sensation of being hit with a bucket of ice the Soldier felt himself sucked into a vacuum, his ears popped and his vision went dark momentarily and when his vision came back he was looking up at himself from Layne’s perspective.
#winter soldier x layne hardin#bucky barnes x layne hardin#bucky barnes x ofc#winter soldier x ofc#thor odinson x ofc#thor odinson x susanna sweet#bucky barnes fanfiction#winter soldier fanfiction#avengers fanfiction#marvel fanfiction
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Twin Blades (Zelda Fanfiction.)
Long ago,
Hylia, the goddess of Light and Sound, and Zylia, the goddess of Twilight and Time, blessed the land with their childrens grace.
Hylia’s children,
Din, created land and mountains with a heart that burned with fire.
Nayru, gave water that could reach everything it touched
Farore, sprouted life that cleansed the air.
However… Zylia’s child
Oden, gave the land the wind of HOPE
As Hylia and her children name spread across the lands, Zylia’s jealousy grew due to her child’s vanishing.
So they decided to choose champions that would forever remember the gods for centuries.
Nayru chosen a princess, who was the wisest person in a place called Hyrule
Din chosen a Man in the Gerudo desert, who had a strong will for power
Farore chosen a boy who was courageous against all odds
And Oden…
He Chosen the boys weak twin sister, who was always hopeful and believed in possibilities.
This angered the goddess Zylia
But Hylia accepted the choice Oden made and created the Dual swords
However Zylia wanted more and ask a demon to get inside the mind of one of the champions and bring her the tetra force.
Chaos within the champions and their clans, spread wars across the land.
the dual blades sealed away the demon and brought back peace, Giving birth to the master sword.
But the true story is now only a forgotten legend for the youthful ears.
Chapter 1: Whispers in the wind.
The land of hyrule is vast place with a proud and magnificent castle that stood in the middle, as it watched over its people. The west scorched with the sands of time, the Gerudo village. The north burned with fierce power known as Death Mountain. East, is the forbidden forest, where creatures lurk within the shadows and finally South where the Zoras guard the waters. They say there’s a place in the sky where angels fly… but I’ve never seen it.
There are a few towns beyond this place and a few shrines that are recently built for the gods. However those are just stories I hear from my brother Link. He’s always off adventuring somewhere or goofing around with the farm animals. I was always jealous of the fact that he could go outside so sometimes, like tonight, whenever the moon is full, I go out for a stroll.
“Linkle!” I could here link in the distance as I sat on top of an abandoned well. As my brother emerges from the forest like a while animal, I gave a troubling smile. I knew he was seriously upset as he held his wooden sword in his hand tightly.
“Linkle!”, His voice relief to have found me, “Do you not know how dangerous it is for you to be out here? Father and mother are worried sick!”
“But I-” I tried to explain.
“Common, the doctor is waiting for you in your room!” He commanded as he pulled me down from the well and started back towards home. I snatched my hand away in frustration.
“You don’t have to shout! I’m doing just fine on-”
“You’re not doing fine!”
There was a moment of silence between us and the forest sang it’s silent tune to the wind. Both of us knew what those words meant but neither of us wish to hear them.
“I just wanna see the world like you do. I’m always stuck in the house and unless we find the fairy Queen I’ll-”
“Don’t say that! I’ll find her for sure. So let’s just go back inside?” Links face looked so determined, that I knew that my brother loved me so much so.
“Alright, but you’ll have to teach me how to use a sword when I’m better!”
“In your dreams, haha, we all know that you’re only good at the bow and arrow!”
“That may be true”, I gave a smirk as I pass him up, “but someday we’ll need each other’s skills for survival”
“Right, still not teaching you” Link said sarcastically.
“First one to the house, is a loser!” I said as I took off running, leaving Link behind.
“Hey! wait up!”
[In sleep]
“Strange, I’m back at the well, Didn’t we went home?” I thought as I slowly looked around. My eyes than looked up at the moon only to catch a glimpse of a shadowy figure standing over Link’s lifeless body. I backed away slowly, wishing I had a way to defend myself.
“Who are you? Why are you here?”
Suddenly, three more shadowy figures emerged from the tree tops. The moon shone behind them as their laughter filled the forest with evil. It seemed as if they were approaching me and suddenly I tripped into the old water well. Falling deeper into the cold darkness.
The last thing I heard was,
“Look for Hope..”
[The Next Day]
“Linkle! Wake up!” I jumped at the sound of links voice. His eyes were concerned but then he sighed in relief. “I thought for sure, something had happened to you.” He said as he patted my head.
“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I desperately wanted to tell him my dream.
“You passed out last night and…. nothing,” he paused. Just as I was about to speak, Link continued on talking.
“oh, yeah! Guess what?”
“What?” I asked out of curiosity
“Today’s the day!” He whisper
“What do you mean?” I whispered back
“We found it! We found the fairy queen!” He shouted
“Wait really?!” I exclaimed.
“Hey, calm down, that’s not all good news. Meet me on the training ground by the northern gates. Oh and be sure to stop by a shop for supplies. Here’s a list of things that you’ll need.”
“Hmm.. sturdy clothes, boots, bow and arrow, wooden shield, and a wooden sword… Wait, you don’t mean…?”
“Who knows, you better hurry up if you wanna find out.” Replied Link as he stood up. He than headed out the door leaving me in complete shock.
“Yeeeeesssss!” I shout along with a new burst of energy as I quickly hopped out of bed.
“Okay, first I need to put on some clothes for traveling, my archers armor should do.” I walked towards my closet door but it was gone. “That’s strange? Where’s my armor? Maybe I should ask around….”
As I walk out of my room, I turned to the left and into the restroom. I figured that I should grab something for the journey so i searched inside the cabinet only to find my hair bands and some herbs. “At least I could finally braid up my hair in pigtails…”
I walked back into the hallway and wandered into my parents room but there was no one there. Finally, I searched down stairs for my armor only to find a honeycomb and a couple of apples in the kitchen. After giving up searching inside my home, I decided to look outside. As I walked out the door, my mother was just returning home.
“Mom, have you seen-?” I started to ask but my mother interrupt me.
“Your armor right? Well you wouldn’t believe this, but I was washing your armor at the end of the creak. Just as I was drying it out, an owl swooped down and took it!”
“Mom?!” I exclaimed in disbelief.
“ I’m sorry, but unless we have a reef, we can’t call the owl back. Oh but there are some at the other side of the lake. Too bad that your brother has already left.” My mother than went inside the house, but I was determined to get back my armor. Besides how hard can it be to swim across a lake?
It was really hard. A carpenter guarding the lake told me that the dam had been broken and unless the boss was found, no one could swim across it. The only hint to his location was usually by the southern gate but he was nowhere to be found.
I thought that was indeed quite unusual, so I decided to try and look for the boss carpenter in his last location myself.
When I arrive at the southern gate, there was no one there at all. However something did caught my attention. I never told Link this, but I sometimes can see the passing of shadows. Kinda like footsteps people leave behind. Only problem is the longer I attempt to do that the more I get terribly ill. Still…. I wanted my armor and to journey out badly so I attempt it anyways. The boss carpenter shadow appeared underneath a tree. It seems that he was in a deep sleep. His body suddenly awoke in a shock stood up and ran outside the gate.
“This is bad…” I looked for the nearest weapon I could think of only to find a stick. “Better than nothing… I guess”
I ran out the gate into the woods, following the shadow before it disappeared behind a bush. When I walked through it, I fell down into a pit.
“Gaaaaaahhh!!!???? Uff?!” I landed on a large flower, in front of me was the boss carpenter. “Ahh! I found you! Hurry, let's go!”
“I can’t, my son wondered out of the gates and now a moblin took him away, what am I to do?!” Asked the panic boss
I hesitated but somebody has to do something, “alright, let’s go.”
“What?! Are you seriously going to help me?! You’re the best!”
As we traveled in the cave, beating up bats and spiders we were able to find a chest with a travelers bow within it. “I guess this’ll work well for us?”
“With that bow we don’t have to sneak around anymore. Here take these arrows I found” said the boss, “ whew… I’m beat, I’m sorry, let me rest here and I’ll catch up with you soon.”
“Alright.” I said. My thoughts were everywhere, and I’m sure the boy must be close by now. However I don’t think I can save him alone. For now, I'll just give it my all and hope for the best.
When I arrived, it was worse than I thought. The boy was inside a moblin camp.. “o-okay, I can do this.”
I attempted to aim at a moblin at the gate but my hand had slipped and missed. Of course, I was too weak to fight in combat than there’s the fact I’ve been following shadows for awhile. Finally I defeated one, but just as I stood up a moblin aimed to strike me from behind. Time slowed, and my brother appeared and stuck the moblin down.
“Link?!”
“Linkle!”
“What’re you doing here?!!” We said at the same time.
“I saw a girl ran into the woods and went to help her before a moblin kidnapped her. But to imagine it was you?! Linkle, you’re not supposed to be here!” Scold my brother.
“I know, but there was the boss carpenter's son and he ran in here and also got captured. There wasn’t enough time so we went to save him.” I explained.
“Wait he has a son? So that explains why i saw him earlier… he was the one who told me to help you… anyway, I’m here now so go back to the village.”
“What?! No!! I started this mission and I’m going to finish it, one way or another!” I barked back.
“Fine… you’re going to be out in the wild soon anyway so i guess this would be a great way to test your skills. I see you got a bow and arrow on your back… you can be my lookout, I trust you can cover me, yes?”
“Ha! Of course i can! I can shoot an arrow like the wind itself!” I spoke proudly
“Good, climb up that tree and whistle when you’re ready. I’m going to sneak inside and rescue the kid, MAKE SURE NO MOBLIN SPOTS ME! If they do they might harm him.” Warned link
“Got it.” I said in determination. Link suddenly reached for his pocket and pulled out a bag.” What’s that?”
“It was hard to find since they are pretty rare but this is a bag of holdings. Inside is a whispering stone i found on one of my journeys. With this we can communicate with each other.” Link than pulled out a pair of green emerald earrings wrapped in gold.
“Wow... but how am I to communicate back with you if you don’t have one?” I asked. Link than took one of the pairs and wore it on his left ear.
“ you’re right handed, right? Put the other on your right ear. When you wish to speak with me just touch it.” Link instructed.
Once I was done I climbed up the tree and whistle to inform link that i was ready. Link ran in as if there was nothing that could stop him. He then took a barrel and placed it over his head. I taped the stone.
“Wow, so hidden are we… hehe!” I said jokingly.
“Hey they won't be able to tell if you do your part” replied link
“Yeah, yeah… alright, go left… stop, go right…” after directing and clearing his path, we came to a problem. “Link! get out the barrel!” Link leaped out the barrel just before the moblin boss smash it to pieces. Link had to battle him head on.
“Linkle! I'll distract him, take out that siren before they call for help than get to the cage where the boy is located!” Shout link
“On it!” I shot down the siren as I jumped down from the tree. “Cough?!!!!” My body wasn’t fit enough so I took a moment to breath.
“This isn’t good but i have to hold on.” I whispered.
I ran through the maze, shooting down any moblin that would try to stop me. When i got to the cage, the boy was in tears and without a key I couldn’t get him out.
“Link, key!!” I shouted across the arena.
Since the mobbing boss wore armor, link had to roll around and cut the straps. He than kept back to doge the counter attack only to leap into the air and split the helmet off. This left the moblin boss dizzy for a few seconds, since it was surprised.
“Catch!” Shouted Link as he slid besides the boss moblin’s hip and cut of the key with enough force to send it flying. But with link not paying attention, the moblin boss had regained consciousness and was about to hit link. So I drew my bow and shot an arrow through the keyhole of the airborne key. The arrow went into the moblin, staggering him, which bought link some time to resume fighting.
I then caught the key and set the boy free. Link also had just finished off the boss by knocking the moblin boss down and land a finishing blow to the chest. Suddenly a minion came rushing at link, I reached for my arrows but I had none, so I grabbed a nearby sword and activated my ability to see the movement of shadows. Than i noticed it… link was also special... we both ended the minion with a jump into the air, our swords clashing together as we landed.
“Link… you can…” before I knew it , I passed out. The last thing i saw was link rushing me back home with determination once more in his eyes.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Soulbonds and fairy dust
TITLE: Soulbonds and Fairy Dust
CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 10/?
AUTHOR: nekoamamori
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine one of the fae has been helping the Avengers, jumping in to help them on missions and vanishing before Shield can bring her in. Loki joins the team and convinces her to come talk to the team and consider joining before Shield takes more drastic measures.
RATING: T (so far)
NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 here
You smiled at his romantic gesture, at him caring enough to heal the wound for you. “I can heal others about as well as Mama Frigga,” you paused and remembered that you were an adult now and should refer to Frigga in a more appropriate manner “the Allmother,” you corrected quickly and you saw Loki’s smirk at your correction. “Can’t heal myself though, especially not wounds made for blood magic…”
“That makes sense. Though blood magic is a dangerous thing…” it was also illegal on Asgard, but he wasn’t calling you on it.
“It is,” you agreed. “Unfortunately it’s the only way to open or close a door to Underhill without a lot more power than I’m prepared to use right now.” It was possible to close the doors in order ways, but it was difficult at best and dangerous at worst.
Loki sighed and nodded in acceptance. “Just try not to use it around the palace. Mother even restricted me from learning that type of magic,”
You nodded agreement quickly. “I’m not surprised the Allmother has banned the learning of blood magic. It is too easily corrupted. Don’t worry, I’d never use anyone else’s blood and I’m very careful about using it at all. I think even she’ll forgive me for using it to close one of the doors to Underhill,”
“After what you told me about what happened to you there, you’re probably right.” He wouldn’t speak for Frigga, but he knew his mother well enough to know how she’d likely react.
“She won’t want the possibility of other children being kidnapped, especially not so close to the palace where it’s supposed to be safest,” you reminded him. Frigga was protective of her people, which wasn’t surprising at all of Asgard’s queen.
Loki nodded agreement. “It would not be good for more Asgardian children to be taken from their homes,”
“There’s other doors on Asgard, but none close enough to be a danger right this moment,” you told him as you headed back to the palace. “And strong enough fae can open new ones…” it was a rare skill and only the strongest of the fae could manage it, but it was a possibility that they needed to be aware of.
Loki nodded his understanding and you could see the concern in his expression. “Should I inform my mother or the Allfather of the possibility of more kidnappings?” you noted the distinction between Frigga being called ‘my mother’ and Odin being called by his title. Things between Odin and Loki were rocky indeed for that to be his term of address.
“I’m sure they’re aware of the possibility, though it sounds like they might not know about the doorways? That’s how the fae slipped past Heimdall all those centuries ago. I don’t think he can see the doorways,” you told Loki. Heimdall was supposed to be able to see everything, but even he wasn’t infallible. Odin and Frigga needed to know there was a weakness in the realm’s defenses.
He nodded. “I will inform them of the doorways. They will need to keep an eye on them. If there are any other strong magicians here, they should be able to feel the magic the doorways give off,” he told you, trying to sound reassuring.
You weren’t reassured.
“They can’t close them,” you reminded him. He seemed to have forgotten that point. Knowing where the doorways were wasn’t good enough.
“I know, but they can keep an eye on them. Especially if the fae decide they want to take more asgardian children,”
“Do you really expect the Allfather to allow the matter to rest there when I can close them? Especially when no one else here can?” you didn’t think Odin was going to let you out of this without closing the rest of the doorways, especially any doorways that were too close to the population.
Loki sighed, seeing your point. “No, but he won’t argue with Mother once we inform her of what it requires you to do,”
You weren’t convinced by that logic. Odin would do anything to keep Asgard safe, including convince his wife that a little blood magic was allowed. Or that overworking the only person who could close the doorways was worth the risk to get the doorways closed. “If I have a map, I can at least pinpoint the locations of the doorways for them,” you told Loki softly. You didn’t tell him how strong of a mage it took to close the doorways. You figured he didn’t know and there was no need to inform him at this juncture.
Loki nodded. “We will do what we can,”
By then you’d made it back to the palace. You paused just inside, trying to determine what the plan was. “Are you telling them about the doorways before or after dinner?” you asked. You’d lost track of how much time you had.
“After,” Loki decided after a small pause to consider. “Let’s enjoy dinner before we have to deal with business.” The pair of you walked to the great hall for dinner, your armor shimmering to court clothes as you walked. You noted that you both chose clothes that allowed the soulbond marks on your arms to be clearly visible. You started to worry as you neared the great hall, though. Your place used to be at one of the tables with your mother and other nobles. You didn’t know where you’d be now and you didn’t remember anyone really except the royal family and Thor’s dumb friends. Loki held out his arm for you to take. “Would you be up to sitting with me and my family?”
You gave him a look, but took his arm. “But, only the royal family sits at the head table…” you’d heard that line thousands of times over the first couple of centuries of your life when you used to demand from your mother why you couldn’t sit next to your best friend at dinner.
“Things have changed. With the soulbond, you are considered part of the royal family now,” Loki reminded you. That consideration hadn’t occurred to you yet. “Besides, my mother wouldn’t have it any other way,” he added with a warm smile.
It was strange that you were considered part of the royal family now when you weren’t even officially courting. You weren’t quite sure what you were, except that you had your best friend back, and for now, that was enough. It was still strange that just because you had power lines on your arm, a soulbond mark with Loki, that made you a member of the royal family. You squeezed his arm, though. “Then I’ll gladly sit with you,” you told him warmly. His bright smile was completely worth it and you continued on your way to the great hall.
You walked with him happily and looked over the statues and decorations on the way, noting which ones you remembered from your childhood. “Should I don an illusion too?” you asked him softly, in case it made things easier on him. Or on you both. You knew your strange looks drew a lot of attention.
You saw his eyebrows furrow in that look of confused concentration you knew so well. It brought a warm smile to your face as you remembered. “What do you mean?” he asked you, legitimately confused.
“You aren’t the only one with the power of illusions, trickster,” you told him with a smirk. With a shimmer of power an illusion settled over you and Loki was no longer looking at the fae he’d come to know, but an older version of his Sigyn with long golden hair and blue eyes, with normal non-pointed ears, though with the green lines of power still on your skin.
Loki froze in disbelief as he looked at you. “Wow. You look so much like the little girl I used to know…”
You laughed at your silly best friend. “Of course I do. This is what I would have looked like had the fae not gotten ahold of me,” you told him.
Loki nodded and considered his next words carefully. “You don’t need to hide behind an illusion though,” he reassured you. “I do because most Asgardians hate frost giants, and I hate that I’m one of them,” he explained. “Plus, I’ve been wearing it all of my life, even though I didn’t know it until a few years ago,”
You hesitated, unsure. “You don’t prefer-?” you couldn’t get the rest of the question out, unsure if he would say yes and be unable to accept you for who you were now.
“I care about you either way. I don’t care what you look like, I care about you,” he reassured you firmly.
You hesitated a moment longer, unsure, but let your illusion slowly fade away. “If you’re sure…”
“I would not lie to you, I know better. Besides, you would be able to tell if I was lying,”
“That may be what the Sigyn you knew would have looked like, but this is who I am now,” you said softly when your illusion was gone and you were back to normal.
He gave you a warm, reassuring smile. “I know. And you’re beautiful,”
You gave him a small tentative smile since he wasn’t lying. “And you’re handsome, my prince,” you replied warmly.
“Thank you, darling,” he replied just as warmly. You finally reached the dining hall and Loki paraded you on his arm as you walked to the head table where the royal family sat. He led you straight to the chair beside his and pulled it out for you. He sat between you and his mother.
“Careful thanking a fae,” you teased, trying to ignore the stares from the nobles as you were seated at the head table. You gave him a warm smile of appreciation as he pulled out your chair for you.
“What happens if I thank a fae, little one?” Loki asked you, more curious than anything.
You pondered over how best to explain it to him. “It implies enough gratitude for whatever you are thanking them for that they can claim you owe them a favor in return. And you do not want to be indebted to one of the fae,” you explained. You wouldn’t hurt Loki, but you knew there were plenty of fae who would if give the opportunity.
He nodded, accepting the reality and the seriousness of your words. “I shall keep that in mind.” You nodded your approval and glanced over at the morons’ table where they seemed to have gotten over the worst of the fairy win, though they seemed hungover. You laughed quietly at them. Loki looked over as well and saw how hungover they were too. “That is certainly some powerful wine,” he commented approvingly. He hated that they always tried to get him drunk. This was definite recompense.
You smirked. “None of the morons have magic of their own, so they have no immunity to fae wine. You could have some and not be nearly so affected, as long as you were careful,”
“That’s a relief. I might wish to try some at some point,” he was willing to try almost anything, especially when it had to do with magic.
“I’ll share. And even be kind enough to make sure you don’t drink too much of it,” you added teasingly.
He chuckled. “I appreciate that.” You noted that he carefully hadn’t thanked you.
You grinned at him. “You’re learning,” you told him warmly, noting how your light conversation felt like… home.
“Brother! You actually joined us for once instead of hiding in your room with your books,” Thor greeted Loki too jovially when he arrived.
Loki rolled his eyes and you hid a laugh behind your glass of wine. “I did not wish to leave Sigyn alone with you and your hungover friends,” he replied dryly.
“Speaking of, that was a cruel trick on your old friends, Lady Sigyn,” Thor told you with a glare. It wasn’t a sever glare, not really, but it was a glare nevertheless.
You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but your hand gripped Loki’s too tightly in nerves. Upset males made you cringe and shy away. “They should know better than to accept gifts of drink from the fae…” you replied softly, shyly. “And I didn’t hurt them,”
Loki glared at his brother for making you tense up. “They were asking for it,”
“They simply wished to see their friends,” Thor replied, but he was cut off from making things worse by Odin and Frigga arriving. Everyone had to stand and Thor had to hurry to stand by his seat next to Odin’s. Frigga kissed Loki’s cheek as she moved to take her own seat next to him.
Odin remained standing for a moment and it was he who made things worse on your nerves. “It is my honor to announce that Lady Sigyn Freyadotir, duchess of Asgard, Goddess of Fidelity has been found and returned to us after so many centuries. Not only that but she and my son Loki have become soulbound,” he announced, sounding proud of both of these occurrences. Loki was surprised Odin sounded proud about him. You were digging your nails into Loki’s hand and had been since Odin spoke your full name with your titles. Loki covered your hand with his, trying to ease your nerves and fear. He sensed your emotions and didn’t like them.
Names had power. You knew that better than most. And Odin had just announced yours for the entire court.
Odin finally sat and dinner was served. “Sorry,” you murmured when you saw nail marks in Loki’s hand and used a drop of power to heal the marks you’d left.
Loki smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it, darling,”
“I wish he hadn’t done that,” you said softly, still on edge from having your name announced. You were in the habit of hiding your truename. “Also where in the nine realms did ‘Goddess of Fidelity’ come from?” you asked in shock. You’d never had that title before.
“It was what you were supposed to be the goddess of before you were taken by the fae,” Loki explained.
“I don’t think I ever knew that…” you replied softly. You couldn’t remember knowing that before and that didn’t seem like something you’d forget or make yourself forget.
“I didn’t officially receive my godhead until I was around 300,” Loki told you.
You nodded. “But you’re a prince of course you’d receive a godhead at some point. I’m not royalty,” you reminded him quite logically.
He chuckled. “Darling, you are my best friend. You are close to my mother and a noble of Asgard. All nobles receive a godhead,” he reminded you.
You remembered something and nodded. “Mama was goddess of beauty,” you said softly as you remembered that tidbit. He gave you a small sad smile and wrapped an arm around you reassuringly. You gave him a small smile in return. “I think the court is about to blow a gasket over the dark prince touching a lady,” you teased him.
He chuckled warmly and it was nice to hear the old familiar sound of his laughter again. “Like I care. They can think of me however they wish. It doesn’t faze me,”
“Sure it doesn’t, peacock,” you teased him warmly.
Frigga turned to her son during dinner “Have you been enjoying showing your lady around the palace?” she asked him kindly.
“I actually haven’t had a chance to yet,” he admitted a bit sheepishly. “Though, on that note, there is something we wish to speak to you about after dinner. Without Father,” he added quickly.
Frigga raised and eyebrow, but didn’t seem concerned about the request. “Of course, darling,” she replied just as warmly and kindly as she always was. She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “After dinner or after you have a dance with your lady?”
He chuckled. “You read my mind, Mother,”
She laughed. “I know you well, my darling,” she replied, then glanced at the morons’ table. “Do you know what happened to Thor’s friends? They’re remarkably quiet tonight…”
You and Loki shared an amused look. “That’s a long story, Mother,” Loki replied, since he didn’t really want to go into it right now. Especially if it could possibly get you in trouble. You were looking sheepish since Thor wasn’t pleased with you for that trick on his friends.
Frigga gave you both a knowing smile. “And some things never change…” she mused.
Loki chuckled. “You know you love how mischievous I am,” he told her brightly. He was never so open with anyone else in the court other than his mother and now you.
“It does tend to cause excitement around here. The palace is dreadfully dull without you. And mischief that leads to those three being quiet is definitely appreciated,”
Loki kissed her cheek. “It is dreadfully dull on Midgard without you as well, Mother. It is always good to come home just to spend time with you. And I’m happy to bring a little excitement back with me,” he added with a mischievous smirk.
“You shall have to enlighten me on how you subdued them though. It seems like a useful skill,” Frigga mused. The morons were usually quite loud and obnoxious. Their only redeeming quality was that they were skilled warriors.
“Let’s just say my soul bound has many tricks up her sleeves,”
“I expect no less of one who is worthy of your affections, my darling,” Frigga told him warmly before turning to you to try to goad you into speaking. You’d gotten shy with all the attention.
/What has you so tight lipped, darling?/ Loki asked when he noticed how shy you were.
/I… I’m just not used to positive attention anymore… especially from those in power…/ you tried and probably failed to explain.
/I’m sorry to hear that/ you heard understanding in his tone. /But remember, you belong here. You have nothing to fear from my family. Besides the Allfather, the rest of us have nothing to hide from you/
/I know. It’s just hard. And she’s still expecting the little girl she knew. Also not calling her ‘mama Frigga’ anymore is hard~/ you whined the last, but you opened up more to Frigga when the subject changed from your past to safer subjects like general magic studies. And Loki.
/My Mother would probably love to hear you call her Mama Frigga. I know she misses being called that. And I’m sure she realizes that you are not the same girl you once were. My mother is not naive/
/Probably is not enough when propriety and the royal family are involved/ you reminded him, noting that Frigga seemed happy that you were willing to talk about something, even if it wasn’t yourself. And Frigga was having a touch too much fun telling stories of younger Loki to make you laugh.
Loki was getting more and more embarrassed by all of the stories and turning redder and redder. “Mother, please~” he whined at a particularly embarrassing old story. Frigga laughed and Loki’s whining and switched to a story of one of his accomplishments instead.
/She refuses to answer questions about herself more than what magic she’s studied. I had to get her talking about something/ Frigga told Loki as she told her story.
/She’s still adjusting to being shown any form of affection. Life in underhill was not easy for her/
/I wish we knew what happened there. We might be able to figure out how to best help her/ Frigga does politely, to Loki at least, change the topic of conversation to the differences between fae and Asgardian magic which is something you could lecture them on at length.
/I do as well. I’m sure she will tell me eventually but I do not plan to force it out of her./
/Wise decision, darling/
Dinner finally ended after a delicious dessert and Odin left the second it was over, claiming work to do. As soon as he was gone, Loki stood and held out his hand to you. “Sigyn would you honor me with the first dance?” he asked you formally.
You gave him a warm, bright, smile and placed your hand lightly in his as you stood. “The honor would be mine, my prince,” you saw how much he lit up every time you called him that. He smiled brightly and led you straight out to the middle of the dance floor. You both drew a lot of attention, just because of who you were. Your exotic looks and the soulbond marks didn’t help matters any. The music started and you took your position automatically, clearly knowing what you were doing. You’d danced in the fae courts for centuries. You were both wonderfully graceful and a sight to behold once the dancing began. You both appeared to be floating across the dance floor and your eyes and lit up in joy. You didn’t notice when you started to literally shine with joy as you danced.
You danced for a long while before you both remembered that you had to talk with Frigga about the fae doorways.
You didn’t want the night to end, but duty called.
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wrong Road to the Right Place 10/?
My Writing
Fandom: Arrow
Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Quentin Lance, John Diggle, Thea Queen, Moira Queen, Joanna de la Vega
Pairings: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen
Summary: Laurel finds herself curious about the marks Oliver showed her that night in his bedroom - and the tattoo on his left shoulder stands out in particular. When she discovers its meaning, she finds herself questioning everything she knows about the man she doesn’t want to admit she still loves.
*Can also be read on my AO3 page*
John drove them back to the Verdant early the next day at Oliver’s request. He’d asked Laurel to meet them there, too, and they spotted her getting out of her car just as John pulled into the lot.
“So, what’s going on? Why the early meetup?”
John looked to Oliver since he hadn’t shared yet.
“There’s a couple things we need to go over before I head out tonight,” Oliver answered. They went down to the base and gathered by the tables.
“So, first thing?” John asked.
“Couldn’t sleep last night. I was thinking about the list and what we think it’s for now.” Oliver took the book out and set it on the table. “And I realized — what if it also works in reverse?”
John exchanged a look with Laurel, and she appeared just as clueless.
“What do you mean, man?”
“My parents both knew about it, and whoever wrote the list has to be powerful. Powerful enough to bully others and hire killers to get his way. They’re from the same mould as the people who are on the list, but they’re not named in it.”
“Because they wouldn’t be extorting themselves,” Laurel said.
“Right, but that omission speaks louder than if they had included themselves. It narrows down who might be at the top of this group.”
John thought he might be catching on. “The movers and shakers in the city who aren’t on the list could still know of it. Or wrote it.”
Oliver nodded. “I looked up the richest people in Starling from five years previous to see who was missing. Made a list of my own.” He set down a piece of paper next to the list. “I didn’t include women who made the cut since the Dark Archer said his boss was a man, and my mother’s meeting was with a man as well. There’s gonna be some on there who probably are innocent, but it gives us a better idea of who we’re looking for.”
Laurel took it first and looked it over, then passed it to John. He scanned up and down, noting some of the less likely — Malcolm Merlyn was getting named to some humanitarian thing later this month, he’d seen on the news — but the man who ordered the Dark Archer around seemed far less shadowy now. They had options.
Oliver took the list back. “I’m most interested in talking to him—” he tapped the name at the top. “Kevin Chen. He was close with my father, and the Gambit was supposed to stop in China where he does business now. But he’s been there for the last two years,” he admitted.
John frowned. Not easy to access, then.
“This is still really good, Oliver,” Laurel said.
“I hope so. I just wish my father had told me who I was dealing with himself. More about the Undertaking.” He frowned. “I didn’t really know what this mission was about before I started it.”
“That wasn’t your fault. And look where you are now. We just need to find a way to talk to Chen or the right person who will give us the answers we’re still looking for,” Laurel said.
He nodded, seeming glad to hear that encouragement. John did have to marvel at all Oliver had managed to accomplish with the little he’d been given to go off of. Anyone else probably would have given up, but Oliver seemed just as determined now as when he’d thought his mission was simply to punish the people on the list.
“So what’s the second thing you wanted to take care of?” He asked.
“Little bit of training, for Laurel’s benefit.”
“Me?” Laurel looked just as surprised as John felt, which seemed to give Oliver some amusement.
“Yeah. I know you have some reservations about me being out there, but you haven’t really gotten to see what I do for the most part. So this is a demonstration.” Oliver gestured to John. “Digg’s the best, and he won’t be holding back.”
“Yeah, well I like not getting my ass kicked,” John pointed out. He went and changed into clothes suitable for a spar and met Oliver back out on the mats. His friend tossed him a stick and they took up stances. Laurel stood against one of the tables with her arms folded, watching as they moved towards each other and clashed.
Their sparring matches were usually pretty intense — there wouldn’t be much point to Oliver training to fight worse than he needed to survive out there — though John could immediately tell there was something different about this one. He didn’t think it was solely the additional audience member; rather, the other man had something to prove right now.
Oliver was really in the zone. It was everything he could do to just keep blocking the man’s attacks, and he was barely getting any of his own in.
The rap of the sticks hitting each other was loud along with the blood that pounded in his ears, and he almost didn’t hear the slide of another stick coming off the rack. In a millisecond, Oliver changed course, whirling around and knocking the stick out of Laurel’s loose grip where she stood on the edge of the mat. His stick was already raising for a second swing.
John lunged forward and caught his arm on the upstroke. His friend jerked to a halt while Laurel staggered backward with a startled cry.
Oliver was frozen for a moment, and his face seemed to cycle through a series of emotions before finally settling on anger. “Laurel, what the hell were you thinking?”
“I- I just thought, you don’t usually fight one person at a time. I was going to ask — I wasn’t just gonna—”
“You always want to announce yourself before approaching a fight, even a spar,” John explained in more measured tones. “Surprises lead to accidents.”
Oliver’s gaze followed his to where Laurel was clutching her one wrist. She let it go instantly, guilt in her expression.
“It just stings a little,” she insisted. “It’s not broken or anything.” She teetered on the balls of her feet like she wanted to go to him but wasn’t sure how it would be received.
“I could have hurt you. Seriously hurt you,” Oliver said, his shoulders hunched.
“I know. I should have realized, after Iron Heights,” Laurel replied, her eyes on her shoes. She looked back up as Oliver turned away. “This was my fault, Oliver. I knew what you’ve been through — at least a little — and I didn’t think about what that might mean for you when you’re fighting. Even a friend.”
Oliver breathed in once and then looked back at her. “I need you to be safe. If you’re gonna be down here, I need you to be safe about things.”
Laurel nodded. “Okay.”
John let his own breath out. “So, you still heading out tonight?”
“Yeah.” Oliver left them both to change into the Hood suit, and he didn’t stick around long after he’d gotten ready. It was obvious he was still upset, even if he was trying to keep a lid on things.
“Give him some time,” John advised after a few minutes of silence. “Punching a few people will probably do him good.”
“I wish we could do more for him.” She looked away from the door Oliver had left through. “He’s not crazy, but you don’t have to be to see someone, or to get some other means of help.”
“Well, he couldn’t talk to a specialist without them finding out about all this,” he replied. “And Oliver’s not the kind of guy to get himself help in the first place.”
Laurel grimaced, which seemed to indicate she was well aware of that.
John went about putting the sticks back on the rack, then got himself some water and a towel to wipe at the sweat that hadn’t already started to dry, keeping watch on Laurel out of the corner of his eye. It was pretty obvious she had something else on her mind, but he was willing to wait for her to come around to it.
“John, could I ask you a favor?” She finally began.
“You can ask,” he answered. “What’s the favor?”
“It’s about, well, training. I know I messed up tonight, but I want to try again.”
“Training,” he repeated, just to be sure.
She nodded. “It’s easy enough for me to be safe down in the base with you guys, but let’s face it. I’ve had people come attack me in my apartment twice now. I just keep thinking if you and Oliver hadn’t been there…”
“I know,” he said. “But we were. And you almost had it on your own that last time.”
“That’s the thing.” She took a step closer. “I wasn’t enough. And I need to be.”
John frowned and left the mat entirely. “Laurel, no one is blaming you for those attacks or that you’ve needed our help.”
“No, but I am,” she argued. “A team is only as strong as their weakest link. I can’t be holding the two of you back because I might be in trouble. And I don’t want Oliver wasting time worrying about me.”
“Well, we can go over some defense maneuvers,” he offered, but Laurel was already shaking her head.
“I’ve taken self defense classes. I’m asking you to teach me to fight like the people who have come to attack me in my own home, John. I know you can, and I know you would.”
Unspoken was what they both knew; Oliver would not be willing to try and fight Laurel after what had just happened on the mats. He didn’t trust himself enough for that, not when he still let his mind take him to life or death in a fight.
John thought it over. “I can show you some basics. But between my day job and helping Oliver out here, I don’t know that I can give you the kind of training you’re asking for.”
“So I should find someone who can.”
“If you’re serious about this, then yes.”
“Okay.” She walked back over to the mats. “So those basics.”
John couldn’t hold in a snort.
Laurel turned back around. “What?”
“I’m not sure work slacks and a sweater are gonna be the best attire for this.”
She looked down at her outfit. “Right. I could run home for a change of clothes.”
“Why don’t we start fresh tomorrow?” He suggested instead. “Promise.”
Laurel nodded, though as she marched back over to one of the chairs, he could tell she was a little disappointed to be putting things off. She was not one easily deterred, that was for certain.
He took his own seat with a shake of the head and a hidden smile. There was always something happening on this team.
—-
Laurel was starting to wonder if she needed to start taking public transit.
Every time she came over to the Verdant, she had to come through the front because she drove there and Tommy would recognize her car. Not that it was any less suspicious that she did come through the front.
“Back again?” Was all he said the fifth late afternoon in a row.
“Yep.” Laurel tightened her grip on the bag she’d brought to hold her training clothes and couldn’t quite meet his eyes as she skirted around him to get to the basement door.
“You know, I think you and Mr. Diggle are the only people Ollie lets in his office,” Tommy remarked, and Laurel looked back over her shoulder at him. He wasn’t frowning, but there was little that was friendly in his expression either. “Must be a fun club.”
“Tommy,” she began, but he’d already turned away and was walking to the other end of the bar and out of sight. Laurel had a feeling he’d still heard her, though.
She had to use his absence to enter the code and slip inside, however, so Laurel let him go as she continued on her way.
It wasn’t that she thought Oliver was wrong not to tell Tommy. Nothing that their friend had said about the Hood suggested he would want to be part of this, much less want to keep the secret. But it was making it harder to be around him, and that did make her feel guilty. If there was just one thing they could safely let him know that would make it seem less like they were shutting him out...
“Something wrong?” John’s voice called as she descended the stairs, and Laurel looked up. Both he and Oliver had stopped whatever they were doing to face her.
“Tommy’s getting suspicious about me coming down here all the time.”
“He’s probably been suspicious, just finally decided to ask you about it,” Digg pointed out, and she winced.
“Okay, well, I’ll tell him you’re just looking over some more papers for the club,” Oliver decided.
“Then he’ll want to see those papers, Ollie. He’s your manager.”
Oliver frowned, though he didn’t dispute it. She was glad he seemed to have mostly left her screw-up the previous night behind, even if he hadn’t had any luck yet interrogating anyone on the list. That combined with the Tommy problem were enough on their own to put him in a mood.
John took a step forward. “We could just go with the excuse he’ll already believe.”
“Which is?” Laurel asked. If he had one, she’d love to hear it.
Digg didn’t say anything at first, just exchanged a look with Oliver, who crossed his arms.
“No.”
“No to what?”
“Tommy’s been asking if you two are dating,” Diggle finally revealed. “So why not just tell him you are?”
Laurel was speechless, though Oliver wasn’t.
“Absolutely not.”
“You were fine pretending in front of the Bratva.”
“That was different,” Oliver maintained, and Laurel had to agree. “This would be our friends and family.”
Though now that she was thinking about their acting in front of the Bratva, it was hard not to remember the hitch in her breath when Oliver had called her honey, or the feeling while she’d been in his arms that she had nothing to fear, even if she didn’t understand half of what had been said around her.
Which caused another thought to come to her.
“Actually, since we’re talking about this, what did you call me?”
Oliver blinked and glanced her way. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Not now. At the warehouse, in Russian,” she clarified. “You said I was something.”
There was a moment where he was still clearly confused, and then all at once his eyes went wide. His face reddened. “It was nothing.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure you said it again when you were high on Vertigo.”
“You did,” Diggle confirmed. “Sounded like moy-something.”
“Moya,” Oliver corrected with his eyes on his shoes. “Moya krasivaya ptitsa.”
“Which means?” She pressed.
He took his time looking all around the room before even reaching her general direction. “It means bird. My...pretty bird.”
Laurel felt her mouth drop open.
“Look, it was — He said something about- about you singing, and I had to reply,” he immediately began to excuse. “I wasn’t calling you a bird, or pretty — not that you’re — you know what I mean.”
“And when you said it again here in the base?”
Oliver’s mouth opened and shut a couple times. “Well...I was high.”
John said nothing, just watched the two of them with his arms crossed. Whether he was letting them make up their own minds or simply enjoying the free entertainment was anyone’s guess.
Laurel didn’t know what to do. Oliver seemed dead set against it. Why was a question she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer.
But it was the simplest solution. Let Tommy believe what he was already convinced was going on, instead of trying to come up with an entirely different excuse. It wasn’t like they had to put in that much extra work if he already thought they were dating.
But could she just pretend? What would Joanna or her father say about her seemingly taking Oliver back? It wasn’t as if they knew just how much he’d grown and changed. They’d think she was crazy.
But maybe that was one of the sacrifices she had to make to be part of this. Hadn’t Oliver smeared his own reputation shortly after he’d returned to avoid being tied up in a position at the company? She hadn’t understood that at the time, but now she knew. There were things bigger than them going on in this city.
“I’ll do it.”
Oliver stared at her like he couldn’t quite believe the words that had come from her mouth.
“I mean, it’s just getting a coffee or two and saying yes if he asks if we’re together,” she added. “That’s not hard.”
They’d been going out like that a lot, those last couple of weeks before she’d discovered the truth. Oliver had never explained any of that, either.
“It’d give you another excuse to get away from the manor,” Digg said to him, probably in an effort to sweeten the deal. Because Oliver still hadn’t agreed.
She felt...hurt was probably too strong a word. After all, she’d told him herself that nothing could happen between them all those months ago when they’d kissed. But they had kissed. Maybe he’d decided since then that had been a mistake. She was having trouble remembering why that was the case recently, and pretending to date was not going to help any.
“Okay,” Oliver said before she could take back her agreement. “We’ll try it and see if it gets Tommy to leave Laurel alone about coming here.”
“Right,” she said.
“I’d test it out on somebody before Tommy,” John advised. “He’s gonna think it’s a little weird if he’s the only one you two are acting like that for.”
“Okay, so we pick a guinea pig,” Oliver agreed. “Joanna’s still off work, right?”
Laurel nodded. “And we are definitely not using my father.”
The other two nodded before she’d even finished the sentence.
“Well, that really only leaves one option,” Oliver eventually decided. “I guess I’ll be seeing you bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“Oh.”
Well, this was definitely going to be more than a casual thing.
—-
Another day, another long shift at CNRI. Thea shut off her alarm and actually managed to roll out of bed instead of falling back asleep until Ollie came to wake her up. Maybe she was starting to get used to this.
She went through her morning routine, eating breakfast with her mother and Oliver before getting driven over to CNRI by Mr. Diggle. Oliver followed her up into the office, which only happened sometimes.
Laurel had already buried her nose into a file by the time they got there, but she looked up and smiled at their approach.
“Good morning.”
“Morning,” Thea greeted back.
Oliver didn’t say a greeting. He just leaned down and kissed the cheek Laurel offered him. He placed his hand on her arm as he did so, and lingered.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Thea said, and they both looked her way. She gestured between them. “Since when was this a thing?”
“Uh, recently?” Oliver glanced to Laurel to as if to confirm, though just before he did Laurel dragged some kind of bag with her foot further under her desk than it had been sitting.
“Pretty recent. We’re not making a big deal out of it or anything,” Laurel said.
“Right,” Oliver agreed. “So I will let you ladies get to work.”
“Well, let me walk you out first.”
“You can’t escape me for eight hours,” Thea reminded her.
“No, but I can for a few minutes,” Laurel replied as she stood and followed Oliver out to the stairwell. She wondered if adults still made out there the way kids did at school.
Alone for the moment, Thea found herself curious as to what Laurel had stashed under her desk. She crouched down and pulled out a small backpack. Glancing around to check that no one was watching, Thea unzipped the bag and looked inside.
Gym clothes. When did Laurel start going to a gym? And why had she kicked them out of Oliver’s sight line?
She heard someone heading over, so Thea quickly zipped the backpack back up and dove into a chair. Her instincts were good, because it had been Laurel coming back. She didn’t look to have noticed her spying, though.
“Ready to get to work?” Her friend asked her.
“Yeah. Oh, and, uh, we should totally get something out later for lunch. I wanna hear all the details, and there’s no way Oliver’s telling them.” Her brother had tighter lips than anyone these days.
“We’ll see,” Laurel replied, looking at least somewhat amused.
Of course, Thea didn’t end up getting those juicy details since some asshole had to run off with her purse. That was really just her luck.
—-
Oliver was a little on edge. His latest attempt to question a person on the list had been thwarted again last night, this time by the early arrival of Detectives Lance and Hall. With McKenna contributing off and on to the task force, Lance seemed to be batting better than his average. Oliver had barely cornered the billionaire he was after when the sirens had sounded, forcing him to take off with only a single threat to the man.
Laurel and John had both recommended a night off, in hopes of throwing off both the cops and the elites from any sort of pattern to his activities as the Hood. Which left him with nothing to do.
He couldn’t remain at home, not while he still didn’t know what to make of his mother and her secret dealings. And it was becoming obvious with each passing minute that he was more in the way of things at the club than helping.
“You get bored of looking over papers?” Tommy asked.
“Thought I should see how things are looking up here,” he lied. “You really keep a tight ship.”
“I try my best. We’re still looking to hire a couple people. Bussers and the like, you know. You sure you’re alright with me running the interviews solo?”
Oliver shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who’s going to be managing them. I trust you.”
Tommy smiled briefly, a bit tight. “Thanks. I have to wonder what you do with all the free time I provide you.”
Okay, Laurel had definitely been right about Tommy getting suspicious. And as Oliver exchanged a glance with John, who was hanging back near the wall, he realized what he was meant to say now.
“Um, yeah. Well, I’m actually gonna head out in a minute. I was, uh, going to Laurel’s.”
“Yeah? Listen, Ollie, can you just tell me — you and Laurel.” His friend tilted his head and made a vague gesture.
Oliver managed a short laugh. “Uh, yeah. We’re- we’re giving things another shot.”
“Okay. Great.”
Oliver frowned. “Is it?”
Tommy looked away, chagrin taking over his features. “Well, it’s an answer, I guess.”
“Look, Tommy, I know you and Laurel…” Oliver really had no way forward with that sentence, so he lamely let it dangle. “I don’t want things to be weird for all of us.”
“It’s a little late for that, Ollie. But it’s fine. I mean I knew when Laurel turned me down last year, it was for you.”
“It was?” He hadn’t meant to say that. It had just burst from him before he could help himself.
Tommy sighed. “She said it was because she didn’t know what her feelings were or if she felt she could be in a relationship, and she claimed that she wanted to be there for you as a friend.” He glanced at Oliver. “But c’mon, right?”
“Right. Well, um, if this is a problem, I don’t want—”
Tommy waved a hand in the air to cut him off. “Look, you won fair and square, Ollie. Can’t begrudge you that. So go and have a good time, alright?”
At another time, he might have said something about Laurel not being some game or prize either of them could simply win, but he was still reeling a little from what Tommy had just revealed about her reasons for turning down a relationship with him. Had she really done it because of feelings she held for Oliver?
“Alright. Then I’ll- I’ll see you.” He turned and left the club with Digg close on his heels.
“You’re actually gonna head over, right?”
Oliver looked at him.
John shook his head. “Part of having a cover is maintaining it, man.”
His bodyguard left him in the parking lot with only his bike to use as transport. Did he seriously expect him to be fine going over there after what he’d just heard? He should have never agreed to this idea.
Why had Diggle done this to him? Was it some sort of joke at his expense? He knew how Oliver felt and had suggested this scheme anyway.
But Oliver had agreed. He wasn’t sure what was worse; not being with Laurel, or everyone else believing he was.
He got on his bike and drove over, knowing that he couldn’t just stand in the parking lot all night. Oliver rode up in the elevator and had made it halfway down the hall when he realized he’d forgotten to call. Too late now.
He knocked and waited a few minutes. Laurel’s footsteps padded to the door, and there was a pause as she probably checked the peephole. Then he heard the deadbolt slide and the lock being undone before he was face to face with her.
“Hey. Is something happening?”
“No. Uh, I just tried out the cover on Tommy, and John thought I should follow-through by spending some time over here. If that’s okay. I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”
“No, you’re fine.” She stood back and let him through. The glass cabinet against her one wall was still missing its panes, the only evidence of the attempted kidnapping last week.
Laurel had continued on back to her desk where her laptop was open. “I was gonna order some takeout. You want anything?”
“Sure.” He walked further into the sitting room. “I can get it.”
“Next time,” she said. Oliver tried not to think about this becoming a routine.
He licked his lips and cast about for something to say. “What were you up to tonight?”
“Catching up on work,” Laurel said with a wry smirk. “I haven’t quite figured out a schedule to keep up with it now that I’m helping you and Digg down in the base.”
“Well, part of that schedule could be you doing work at work and not taking it home with you,” he recommended. Laurel shook her head, though she was smiling. “How much can there be? Thea’s pulling her weight, isn’t she?”
“She is, but there are a lot of people in this city who need help. We can’t even get to them all, truth be told.” Laurel looked back up to him. “That’s why we need you.”
He didn’t know what to say to that kind of blatant praise. Oliver glanced down, but his lips were curved in a smile.
“Okay, I’m gonna call. Chinese sound good?”
“Yeah.”
Laurel stepped into the kitchen with her phone, and Oliver settled on the couch to wait as she placed the order. He felt himself relaxing as he usually did in Laurel’s apartment. There was something about the warm, red tones or the glow of the candles that had always put him at ease.
“How did Tommy take it?”
He looked up at her leaning in the kitchen archway. “Oh, alright I guess.”
Laurel frowned. “He was jealous.”
“A little, yeah.” He couldn’t lie about that. Not when Tommy was being so obvious about it, anyway. “I was hoping he would feel better if we confirmed what he was thinking, but—”
“Now he just has a more concrete reason to be upset?” She guessed. “This is all my fault.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. If you didn’t want to date him, you didn’t have to. I’m sure he knows that, even if he’s a little hurt.” Oliver paused for a moment, then before he could think better of it, asked, “You didn’t want to, right?”
“I thought we already went over this,” Laurel said.
“Not really. You told me you felt you weren’t meant to be in a relationship,” Oliver reminded her. “But if you felt you could, and if you felt you wanted that with Tommy—”
“But I don’t. I mean, I care about him. I’ve known him most of my life. And I guess, in some sort of way, I love him.” She pushed off the wall and walked over to a chair, which she dropped into. “I just can’t see myself...when I’m in a relationship — a real one, anyway — that’s it, you know? That’s it for me. And I don’t know if Tommy works that way, even if he says he wants to try.”
“I don’t think he’d say that if he wasn’t actually committed.” Oliver wasn’t sure what he was saying, come to think of it. Arguing this point went directly against making things easier for the mission, not to mention his own self-interest. Just another form of trying to push people away, he supposed.
“Maybe not. But that’s not the only thing. I mean, whether he’s hurt or not, I’m not exactly thrilled with this whole jealousy thing.”
Oliver thought back to his friend’s remark about how he had won Laurel, and couldn’t help frowning as well.
“Well, as long as you’re not with him for your own reasons, I’ll say no more about it.”
“Thank you.”
There was a knock at the door, and Laurel went to get their food after checking and undoing both locks again. He was glad to see she was being careful about possible intruders in the wake of the incident with Vanch; it put some of his worries to rest.
Laurel set out their food on the coffee table, clearly meant to be a sort of buffet style. He grabbed a plastic fork and a carton at random and watched her do the same. It felt like any old night back when they were kids, sitting cross-legged on his bed with a box of pizza and a movie playing in the background. He’d pushed those memories down so far the last five years that he was shocked he could recall them so regularly.
Oliver swallowed down a mouthful and asked, “So how long until I have to watch my back for a taser?”
Laurel coughed and set her carton in her lap. “Hopefully a long while. I am not exactly on speaking terms with my father at the moment.”
“You’re not?”
“No. Um, the vigilante phone. He bugged it after I used it to call you about Joanna’s brother and the firefighters. I guess he was planning to have me lure you into a trap unawares, but I found out and was more than a little angry with him.” She started picking at her food again, more for something to do, he suspected.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s not something you have to apologize for.”
“If it weren’t for me, your father wouldn’t have done that to you,” he pointed out. “You wouldn’t be having that problem.”
“Trust me, my father and I have enough of our own problems already. One more doesn’t hurt.”
He was pretty sure he was still at the root of a majority of those problems as well, whether indirectly or not, but Laurel looked up and caught his expression.
“You can’t blame yourself for everything, Oliver.”
“I’m not blaming myself for everything. Just the things that are my fault.”
“Which you think is everything,” she replied. “Part of my father’s problem is that he can never let anything go, and it is at least half the reason why he is almost permanently unhappy. Please don’t be the same way.”
“There wasn’t much reason to be happy the last five years,” he said.
Laurel stared at him for a moment, then put her food back on the table and walked over to the couch. She sat beside him.
“You know, I thought so, too, most of the time. But then, you came back, alive. And you were different, sometimes in really frustrating ways, but I can understand those a little better now. Thea’s quit using, there are people in this city who have gotten help who would have normally been forced to suffer on their own...not everything is bad. And a lot of that is because of you.”
He placed his own food down and looked at her. “I don’t know how you can still believe in me.”
“Because you’re my friend. Before anything else, you’re that,” she told him. “And I’m gonna be there for you. If you need help figuring out this Undertaking, if you don’t know what to do about Tommy, if you just need to talk about anything. The island, your father’s mission, whatever it is, Ollie. You’re not alone anymore.”
There was so much he wanted to say but couldn’t. How he’d longed to hear those words from her — even imagined her, at times, standing there and telling him so, just to hold on a little bit longer; that her picture was still tucked securely into his wallet, and that he could describe it in perfect detail with his eyes closed; that he loved her, and always had, and always would despite the selfish mistakes he’d made—
Laurel leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, her cheek brushing his as she embraced him. Oliver held still for a single breath, then encircled her with his own arms, one pulling her closer while the other slid up to cup the back of her head, fingers in her soft hair.
His worries felt small now. He was at peace for just this moment. Nothing could touch him when he was home.
Whatever anyone else thought of them, they would always have this.
#lauriver#laurel x oliver#laurel lance#oliver queen#arrow#john diggle#thea queen#tommy merlyn#green arrow#black canary#my writing
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Queen (Final Rose)
“Attend me,” the queen snapped.
“Seriously?” her butler replied.
“Did I stutter?” The queen raised one perfect eyebrow. “Attend your queen, servant. And make it snappy.”
“I’ll show you snappy - hey!”
The queen dismissed the little tendril of ice that had applied a little slap across the shapely trousered backside of her butler. “By all means, servant, continue your disobedience. I shall enjoy punishing you.”
“The last time I checked, you were the one who enjoyed -” The butler sighed. “Fine. Very well. Your Majesty.”
The queen waited patiently as her horribly inept butler went about the business of undressing her. If the butler’s hands lingered a fraction too long here and there, why, that wasn’t entirely undesirable either. And if the queen’s hands wandered too, well, that was only to be expected. She was the queen, after all.
“Now, servant, I have had a most stressful day. I expected relief. You shall provide it.” The queen lounged back onto the bed and beckoned her butler forward with one finger. “Tonight… yes… leave the gloves on. I do enjoy the feel of them.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” her butler replied.
The butler’s green eyes twinkled with amusement. The queen had something of a fetish for gloves, and she was always torn between demanding her servant remove her gloves and demanding she leave them on. Such a troublesome woman, the queen, albeit quite delectable when she was reclining on a bed with nothing on whatsoever. Admittedly, the queen did not go on missions as frequently as most huntresses, but she was still a graduate from Beacon, and she took pride in keeping herself ready for combat. Her body was a pleasant mix of supple curves and carefully honed strength.
“And how shall I begin, Your Majesty?” the butler asked. “I would hate to assume your desires.”
“A fine question.” The queen paused. “I shall leave it to your discretion tonight, but I expect satisfaction, at the very least.”
“Have I ever failed to satisfy?”
The queen smirked. “Not yet, servant, but such arrogance is unbecoming. I am a queen. Mere satisfaction is not enough. I expect more than that.”
“I see.” The butler inclined her head and moved forward, kicking off her shoes but otherwise leaving the rest of her clothing undisturbed. The queen shivered as the cloth of the butler’s suit touched her skin. “Then to accentuate the sensations…” The butler removed her tie and wound it around the queen’s eyes, blindfolding her. “Now, back onto the pillows, Your Majesty, and let me get to work.”
X X X
The queen writhed.
The contrast between her butler’s gloves as they traced paths along her body and the the butler’s lips and tongue as they found the perfect places to lick, and nip, and suck was almost too much to bear. With the makeshift blindfold on, the queen was left guessing, wondering where the next touch would be and when.
Already, she had reached her peak twice, but her butler had, quite nefariously, refused to let her entirely settle after each climax, choosing instead to build upon each one, driving the queen higher and higher toward a peak that she knew would all but break her.
It was when her butler discarded her gloves that the queen knew the end was close. Strong hands pulled her thighs apart, and familiar fingers delved deep even as she felt the brush of silky hair against her thighs and a tongue find the most wonderful spot to -
The first wave hit her so hard that she was sure her cry of pleasure could be heard through the palace. The next was on her well before she was ready, dragging a strangled, wavering moan that broke in rhythm to the firm, insistence thrusts of her butler’s fingers before a third swept her near to darkness and left her lingering, barely conscious, aware only of her body and the pleasure thrumming through it until even that faded, lost in a haze of pleasure so exquisite it was almost pain.
X X X
“You are evil…” Elsa groaned as she tugged the blindfold off and stared into the almost emotionless eyes of Saviour.
Averia’s lips curled ever so slightly. In this state it was the equivalent of a full-blown smirk, and the mere fact that Elsa could draw out even that much emotion from her was impressive. “You seemed to enjoy bossing me around a bit too much, and you did demand something beyond mere satisfaction.”
“So you used your Semblance to try to assassinate me.”
Averia scoffed. “Assassinate you? Elsa, if I wanted to kill you with orgasms, you’d be dead. Believe me.” The pink-haired woman gave her wife a thoughtful look. “If you’re really curious, Saviour estimates that it actually is possible to send you into cardiac arrest if I combine physical stimulation with Aura resonance and the use of the oscillating crystals Saviour can manifest.”
“Are you serious?” Elsa stared at Averia. “Saviour thinks you actually can kill me with good enough sex?”
“There’s a roughly 97.5% probability of it working. It goes up to 100% if I use certain… techniques to keep you conscious the entire time instead of letting you pass out.”
“Right…” Elsa blinked. “Wait… did you say oscillating crystals? As in… a vibrator made from the crystal Saviour can summon, the same ones that make up the swords sharp enough to cut Ragnarok and keep it wounded because they unmake reality?”
“Yes.”
“And you can make those into vibrators.”
“Yes.” Averia paused. “Obviously, I’d do something about the sharpness. Saviour has pretty much perfect control over the shape and other physical properties of the crystals it can summon, and that includes hardness, flexibility, and so on. My Aunt Vanille thinks my Aunt Lumina’s Aura construct Semblance might actually be a shard or mutation of that particular ability.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” Elsa murmured.
“When I activate Saviour, I can trace all of the possible paths to victory that exist. By designating your satisfaction as victory, you’d be amazed by what Saviour can come up with, especially since I’ve had years to map your stimulus-response system.”
“Stimulus-response system?”
“What you like.” Averia reached forward. “May?”
“By all means.”
Averia reached out to touch Elsa with both hands, one drifted downward, the other upward. A second later, Elsa flinched, an almost painfully intense stab of pleasure running through her. “That was something Saviour mapped the first time you asked me to use it during sex. That particular combination is something you’re especially sensitive too.” She touched Elsa again. This time the pleasure was slower to build, but it radiated through her entire body like warmth from a fire. “As was that.” She pushed Elsa onto her back and leaned forward, easing Elsa’s legs apart. “And this…”
Elsa’s eyes widened in sudden realisation as she found every muscle in her body tightening and then -
When she regained her senses, Averia was licking her fingers clean, a contemplative look on her face.
“Everyone’s Aura circulatory system has certain quirks. One of yours happens to be a current of Aura that runs through your pelvic region that is slightly closer to the surface than normal. Normally, that would actually be a good thing since it makes your reinforcement of that area via Aura especially effective. In the hands of someone who can resonate their Aura with yours easily and who is capable of manipulating Aura with exacting precision and control and who understand the precise physical stimulation you enjoy, well, the results can be quite intense.”
“I should say so!” Elsa found it oddly but extremely arousing to hear Averia describe their sex life in such clinical detail. Despite the emotionless tone Averia spoke with, there was hint of warmth in Saviour eyes, more than enough to remind Elsa that Averia’s passion was still there, albeit hidden beneath her Semblance’s mask.
“There are other things,” Averia murmured. “But I don’t find what I did to you just now particularly satisfying. Perhaps its the perfectionist in me, but I find it more interesting and intriguing to see how far I can push you, how far you can go before you simply can’t take it anymore.” She tilted her head to one side. “Setting the conditions for victory as maximum pleasure before incoherence and loss of consciousness without risk of medical harm makes things so interesting, and there is nothing Saviour enjoys more than a challenge.”
“Is that so?” Elsa gulped. “Would you like to better your previous attempt?”
“I should be able to maintain this level of Saviour for some time without risk of harm.” Averia leaned forward. “The vast majority of the load my Semblance imposes is exerted by the activation and use of combat-related abilities. Merely relying on predictive and analytical power imposes a much smaller load. Admittedly, I may require enhanced strength to restrain you when you begin to thrash around, but that will not impose much of a load at all. Factoring in all sources of load likely to occur during this… encounter, I should be able to examine how best to pleasure you for several hours at the very least.”
“Several hours?” Elsa’s throat went dry.
“Does that concern you?” Averia asked.
“I… uh… no.”
“I will, of course, take steps to ensure you are not at risk of cardiac arrest.” There was another ghost of a smile. “After all, I can hardly repeat my investigations for the sake of completeness if you die.”
“Which would be a real shame, you know, if you couldn’t repeat them.”
“Indeed.” Averia cupped Elsa’s cheek. “You should know better than anyone that Saviour is incapable of feeling love. Even affection is difficult. The best I can do is to assign individuals to tiers to determine the order in which their safety is my priority. You are a tier 1 priority, Elsa.”
“That is one of the strangest yet most romantic things you’ve ever said to me.”
“I suppose it is.” Averia’s hand moved down Elsa’s body. “Now, you have had sufficient time to recover. I suggest you ready yourself. I intend to break my previous records, Elsa. Do your best to remain conscious.”
X X X
Lightning’s eyes narrowed as she studied Averia’s face. She liked to call her children whenever she had the opportunity, especially Averia since the oldest of the trio lived in Arendelle, which meant she wasn’t simply a short drive away. However, Lightning could recognise the signs of using Saviour better than anyone.
“You’ve recently used Saviour at extremely low levels for an extended period of time, most likely the predictive and analytical functions.”
Averia grimaced. “There were things I had to deal with.”
Lightning paused. “Normally, Elsa drops by less than a minute after I call, even if it’s just to say hello. It’s been three minutes, and she hasn’t shown her face yet. Can I assume she is unable to.”
“…”
“Averia, you are hardly the first person to use Saviour for sex.”
“…”
“In fact…” Lightning wasn’t normally one to talk about this sort of thing but watching her normally unflappable daughter turn the same colour as a tomato was far too much fun. Perhaps, Fang had rubbed off on her. “Did you ensure that one of Saviour’s priorities was to prevent cardiac arrest? I never had to worry about it with your mom, but -”
The image vanished. Averia must have hung up.
Lightning burst into laughter. She’d wait another two minutes and then call Averia again. But first she had to tell Fang.
“Hey, Fang!” Lightning shouted.
“Yeah?” Fang ambled in from the kitchen.
“Guess what Averia did...”
#final rose#fanfiction#elsa#averia yun-farron#pink ice#averia yun farron#lightning farron#oerba yun fang
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Game of Thrones Season 7 Episode 6 Recap Pt. 1
Oh boy… I need to vent again, I’m sorry, but thanks to everyone reading this, it’s a cathartic experience if anything.
WARNINGS: SPOILERS; Not a D@€ny fan, but if you follow me you already know that and if you don’t no problem that’s why I always warn you about it; Jonsa shipper and still growing strong ( I always loved the Tyrell OK???)
Before diving into the recap:
1.- The toughts, tinfoily wishy washy stuff, analysis, random stuff that I write are my own only, and in no form or way am I trying to convince you that I am right and every body else is wrong, I have been wrong about fandom stuff a LOT, and really it’s just fun for me to do this, anyway I am open to debate if you want just be respectful. Feel free to correct me if you notice I have some facts I present wrong, I will never get mad about it and will even thank you for your insight.
2.- The analysis/opinions I express of certain ships/characters are just my opinion as an audience, if you like the ship/characters good! That’s what makes the fandom experience such a diverse thing, and I have nothing against you. Keep on loving the thing you love!
3.- The Salt Throne and I are one entity of pure undiluted Salt and bitterness,if you don’t wish to subject yourself to reading my salty fangirl rants I completely understand.
—————
1.- We start on that table-map, helI feel I condemned myself saying I didn’t wanted no more close-ups of the thing, anyway so it’s just a pretty shot to get to where the story (plot? What plot?) really pick’s up: Eastwatch by the sea.
We are with the suicide squad on this show’s dumbest mission, but then again this season a lot of dumb things happened so I am resigned. Yeah so Jon and Tormund are talking about how dumb this mission is (got is breaking the fourth wall now???) while Gendry is freezing, Tormund is happy to be back North of the Wall cuz the air in the south is shit, Jon is like bih you never went south but really is agreeing actually Jon seems much more himself now that he is in the North again. Tormund and Jon tease Gendry about making do with him cuz there are no ladies here (ahaha joking about experiencing homosexual sex but no homo bro it’s just because we have no ladies amirite? Am I watching got or the big b4ng th€or¥?) and you know what else they don’t have?? Horses, and food, and those pesky dragonglass weapons, and a raven to send for help should anything happen… But no ladies are the priority. (*sigh* this show is so painfully obviously written by man) Gendry apparently believes them and goes away, Tormund comments he isn’t very bright, he needn’t be says Jon cuz they need the brawn and not the brains right? No this stupid ass mission could have seriously used some brains.
Anyway this next convo of conversations was very intresting to hear, not because they add anything to the plot (if such a thing exists anymore in this show) but I think they are important in understanding the theme they have in common and the relevance I think they have in the final scenes of the episode.
First we have a Tormund/Jon convo, our funny redhead asks about the Dragon Queen, and I expected they would use this chance to make some crude remark about her beauty or her body (dude not a second ago they were joking about bedding Gendry!!) but no, the conversation never goes in the direction that could further the idea of Jon’s attraction to D, Jon trusts Tormund and it would be normal for bros to discuss this stuff (remember how Jon giggled about Tormund mentioning Brienne last episode), instead a very weary and frustrated Jon states she (D) wouldn’t help unless he bends the knee, Tormund says that won’t happen cuz Jon spent so much time with the Wildings to be a kneeler again, but then he moves on to talk about Mance Ryder (dude this Jon/Mance parallels are hitting me in the face like a cold fish, I know D&D I noticed! You haven’t been subtle about this!!! You used the same FUCKING dialogue) and how the dude could have saved a lot of lives if he just had let go of his pride and knelt (so Tormund is our Jon in this parallel ain’t he?) it just made me laugh that Tormund, a wildling cuz they are still Free Folk and rule themselves even if they have an alliance with the KitN, is the one to suggests kneeling, but then I realized how big of a fucken deal that is, Mance could have saved those lives yes (and that’s mere speculation honestly cuz Stannis and his army could have also died at Hardhome #just saying) but he decided keeping his people’s will was more important, Jon respected that to the point he defyied Stannis (they needed his help and dude had just saved them) openly by killing Mance, and now Tormund who is kind of the new Free Folk king/leader is saying it would have been OK if he knelt to save everyone’s lives in front of Jon whom is in a very similar situation.
Then we get a Jorah/Jon convo, again perfect oportunity to show them as D’s love interests and rivals, or for Jorah to wax poetic about Khaliiisi and Jon being jealous or some shit. Some serious talk, if we had time in this compact season for Jon to threaten (or pardon) every man who ever crossed paths with Sansa, why Gendry or the Hound haven’t mentioned Arya at all, if logic states that she is someone this people have in common and should talk about? (like Theon asking about Sansa, or Tyrion) Why Jorah doesn’t talk about D if Jon is her new love interest and it would be a nice and neat contrast between the two of them? Instead they disscus another people they have in common, ex-Lord Commander Jeor Mormont and Ned Stark, oh yes they talk about their dads, Jon says how wonderful was Jorah’s dad and how awful was his death, while Jorah said it must have been heartbreaking for his dad whose entire life was the NW and Jon talks about Ned “the goodest most honorable man ever” dying like a traitor for his honor and pride (like I sense a pattern, can you tell? Gods D&D are too subtle guys) and goes as far as to say he is glad his dad didn’t kill Jorah (you know making him pay for his crime in a just honorable way). Honestly what was the point of this conversation if not that survival is most important than honor? The writers (through Jon) are celebrating that Jorah survived even if he has done sketchy awful things (among them he conspired to have D and her baby killed so he would be allowed to go back to Westeros).
Right we get an intresting end to this convo, Jon offers Jorah Longclaw (why would he give him the sword if he is gonna need it right now in the stupid ass Wight hunt? Why didn’t he gave it to Lady Lyanna Mormont, she has presumably begun training cuz she said to Lord Glover she wasn’t gonna sit by the fire while the man defended the North??? Why would he give it to someone if Jeor gave it to him cuz he didn’t wanted Jorah to have it???) but the point of the conversation it’s not the sword, because Jorah rejects it, it’s about planting the possibility of children in Jon’s future. people have been screaming Targ baby to the heavens and back, and if that is what you chose to belive alright, but I think not, if that was the case wouldn’t it be appropiate to have the Targ theme or the J/D song in the background and transition to DS where D talks about children with Tyrion like she does in a future scene? I would have believed it then. But instead we have the Stark theme and the scene transitioning to Arya and SANSA, call me delusional if you want but for me this is another check in the ‘targcest is building up tarbowl’ column.
Summarizing this we get the very bright neón message of Honor=Death. Which I’ll bring back later.
2.- Y'all remember those good times when the WF storyline was the only thing getting me through all the bullshit I was being fed by D&D? Well they’re over. As I said in point 1 we get a transition of Arya and Sansa looking down at the courtyard while Arya talks about how Ned watched the boys training and tries to diminish Sansa’s connection to her family by stating she was surely too busy sewing to know that (have fun freezing your limbs off darling!!! Sewing and Knitting and all those “delicate female” activities you sniff at are the reason you have clothes miss, really I can’t with this where is the Arya that thought woman to be of equal importance than man?) Sansa is having none of that and says she remembers, we get a cute memory of Arya practicing archery in secret and Ned approving (we get again nods to the patriarchy is wrong! But this is sloppy as fuck if D&D make Arya feel superior to non-warrior inclined girls, like that is also misogynistic) Sansa is smiling fondly (she at this point is more of a feminist icon than any other girl in this show, make no mistake she is not upset or resentful of warrior girls, she approved with a smile when Lyanna said girls on Bear Island were going to be trained too, and she smiles at the memory Arya is sharing with her of defying the rules and practicing archery cuz that made her happy) but then things take a turn for worse when Arya said that Ned is dead cuz Sansa helped the Lannisters. I never asked for this bullshit!!! Not even Ned blamed Sansa for anything, even if Sansa hadn’t alerted her Cersei was gonna kill Robert to protect herself and her children, Ned died for Joffrey’s cruelty (he wasn’t even supposed to die, he was to be sent to the Wall) and yes Sansa had a role to play in the chain of events that led to that, but Sansa had no way of knowing that, she only tried to save her family! The smile gets wiped from my girl’s face she is completely at loss. Arya takes out the letter and starts reading it out, even when Sansa asks her to stop cuz she already knows what does the letter say (wow I can’t belive D&D keep on triggering Sansa through her siblings, FUCKING disgusting) Arya is being unnecessary cruel, blaming Sansa for being powerless to stop their father’s death when she herself was equally powerless, like????? D&D are pushing this Starkbowl bs cuz this is got and nothing can be nice for 2 sec. But really this shit has no basis, you have Wight Hunt Team people who have literally killed each other or tried to working together and joking and then have two sisters who went through hell and back fighting cuz one of them thinks the other survived KL by being a princess in a tower??? Like how is this logical? Even if this is a cleverly crafted Arya plot (I think there is some logic to this) to kill LF is not fair for Sansa, god can’t she have good things on her life? D&D took away the safety of her home by marrying her off to Ramsey and have him rape her in her HOME, and now they make her family treat her one like a stranger and the other like shit???? I’m not asking for Arya to thank Sansa on her knees like she suggested (if anything Sansa was super brave standing her ground and defending her possition and everything she did to retake their home) I don’t want everyone to worship her as they do certain someone all I am asking for is respect and safety for someone who deserves it! Really and Arya suggesting Lyanna Mormont would go for Sansa’s throat why yes she is a child, one that has lost a lot with all this fucking wars but still a child that lacks the knowledge of the true game of thrones and what it takes to survive it, like you Arya (doesn’t she remembers she was cupbearer to Tywin who literally was responsible for the murder of her brother and mother? This is actually what leads me to think this is a ploy cuz Arya is not a hypocrite as far as we’ve seen) still this was painful to watch if you love the Starks.
Anyway leaving my frustration with this cheap drama aside, did anyone notice the parallels between the Arya and Sansa confrontation and the Jon/Tormund and Jon/Jorah conversations? The Wight Hunt Team was talking about great honorable man whose honor and moral code brought their downfall and in the Sansa and Arya, the youngest sister was blaming the eldest for having no honor and surviving (she goes as far as to say she would have rather died than betray her family) while Sansa defends what she did and shows how far she has come from paying the game.
Again this thing is not subtle at all.
———
This is too long so Part 2 is coming!
#Game of Thrones#jonsa#season 7#7x06 recap#part 1#dachi rambles#anti daenerys#anti jonerys#just to be safe
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
For some reason tumblr doesn't let me reblog your post about cindy, so I hope it's okay to send my thoughts via ask. PART 1 - I haven’t read your initial review. I actually do agree that Cindy is a bit over the top. I also hope that FFXVI will be about four girls trying to reclaim the throne for a future queen. There is one point I have to disagree though.“ Never mind the fact that no free-spirited and outgoing person would spend their time at a garage in the middle of nowhere, “
“PART 2 - First, what choice does Cindy have? Crown City was not accessible, iirc? She was where her Paw Paw needed her to be. Secondly, yes, free-spirited and outgoing can also mean, being a mechanic and spending a lot of time in a garage. That’s not mutually exclusive. This point by you is stupid and very subjective. Otherwise, FFXV is not a feminist game and I knew that before I ordered it. It brings me joy, despite it being so male-centered.
PART 3, final part - What is a little feminist about it, is, that they show they boys having feelings and having problems talking about them, crying even at some points. That goes against toxic masculinity and I applaud it for this.”
I don’t mind at all, though I do find it strange that it’s not letting you reblog my post. Just Tumblr being Tumblr again, I suppose. Also, sorry for the delayed reply. I have precious little spare time these days.
To sum up my review, I like FFXV. I don’t love it, but I like it. The environment is gorgeous, the gameplay is fun, the story is a mess, the roles women play is woeful, and of the four main characters only Gladiolus is the one I find consistently likable while the rest flip-flop to “Yeah, he’s cool I guess” to “Oh fuck right off!” Seriously, Gladiolus should have been the main character.
As for Cindy being a bit over the top, I have to strongly disagree with you on that one. She’s not a little over the top; she’s off the freaking wall. Not only is she the only character who dresses like that, but her mannerisms are just absurd. Given the tone and setting of the rest of the game, her scenes feel like bits and snippets from Boogie Nights spliced into The Fellowship of the Ring.
And before anybody asks, no, I’m not slut-shaming Cindy. I’m stupid-shaming the game designers. Big difference.
As for Cindy not having a choice, I think she does. Now you can chalk this up to game mechanics and functionality if you want, but how much business does Hammerhead actually get? I mean, think about it. Not only is it located in the middle of nowhere, but as you mentioned Crown City was completely closed off. Both she and dear ol’ dad (or is it grandpa? I forget) seem to have lots of time on their hands. Cid spends all his time sitting in a lawn chair like a retired Hank Hill while Cindy seems to drop whatever it is she’s doing to either work on your car or come get you and tow the Regalia if you run out of gas or damage it beyond function. Hell, every time you go back to Hammerhead, she’s never working on anything. Not fixing a car or tinkering with an engine or Hell, even taking a lunch break at the diner. She’s always just standing in the driveway doing fuck all.
As for the male bonding angle, I agree. That’s something woefully underused in entertainment and especially in video-games. But there are two major issues I have with it in Final Fantasy XV.
One, these moments of bromance are too few and too far between. As of this post I must have poured over 80 hours into the game and I’ve seen six, maybe seven moments of actual male bonding (in case you’re wondering, my favorite is Gladiolus taking Noctis for a jog on the beach.) The rest of their interactions are just running commentary and an endless exchange of repetitive quips and one-liners. I’m told there’s a particularly sweet scene between Noctis and Prompto at the Three Z’s Motel, but I must have stayed at that place 15 times and it continues to elude me.
Two…how exactly would the presence of a woman in the party suddenly make these moments impossible? They only ever happen when you stay at an inn or make camp, it’s only between Noctis and one other character at a time, and it’s always when the others are either asleep or not around. And when they bring on a female guest member they don’t turn into a bunch horny blithering idiots or “act less sincere” as the developers said, so what exactly am I missing here?
There are two logical explanations. 1.) The developers chickened out on their own premise, or 2.) “An all male cast feels more honest and sincere” is bullshit and just another entry in the long, wearying list of AAA developers using flimsy, pathetic excuses for excluding women from having any role outside of either ‘eye candy’ or ‘love interest.’ It never fails to irritate me that the gaming industry pitches these wild, wonderfully insane ideas from toppling evil empires, fighting dragons and monsters, to taking on robots and mutants in a post-apocalyptic world all the way to exploring the vast reaches of space, but the second somebody brings up putting women into these roles then suddenly all those ideas die and are replaced with excuses.
And before I get the inevitable knee-jerk response to this type of argument (not from you specifically, just in general,) yes, games with female leads exist, but they’re hopelessly~hilariously~outnumbered by male-lead games. And of those female lead games that do exist, the majority them were still designed with the male gaze in mind. If gamers want to play a female lead game where the main character isn’t either sexualized or victimized in some way, shape, or form, well, those gamers are kind of fucked. Either they choke down the fan-service riddled boob parades like that of Bayonetta and the newest torture porn infested Tomb Raider games, or they go back and play Beyond Good Evil, Metroid Prime, and the early Resident Evil games for what feels like the billionth fucking time. And no, games that let you create your own character don’t count. They aren’t characters; they’re avatars.
Still not convinced? Okay, I got a test for you. Make a list of female leads from video-games. To clarify, leads. Not supporting characters, not villains, and certainly not NPCs, but leads. Got your list? Okay. Now cross out the ones that are either blatant sex symbols, bland, or haven’t been featured in a game in over a decade. That list just got a lot shorter, didn’t it?
Now to be fair, yes, the game industry is making at least a token effort to provide customers with more female lead games and more games starring people besides the usual generic brown haired white dude with a bit of stubble on his face in general. I’m excited for Horizon: Zero Dawn and I hope like hell that it’s a game changer (no pun intended) for both female lead games and gaming in general. Yes, it’s getting better.
But as I say time and time again, ‘better’ doesn’t mean ‘good.’ Developers still have to fight publishers tooth and nail just to have a female protagonist, publishers still cling to outdated info about how female leads don’t sell, and when we do get a game featuring a female protagonist more often than not it’s bogged down with achingly sexist tropes (impractical clothing/armor, more thought put into making her look sexy than being a good character, often plays the role of support class like medic, sniper, etc,) or in the case of AssCreedSyn gets left out of almost all the advertising and only gets half the missions and story prominence the male lead gets. Seriously, if Evie really was Ubisoft’s response to the backlash of their “Women are too hard to animate” bullshit then it was the equivalent to expecting us to forgive them for burning our house down because they baked us a cake.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 3: Insanity Prime
Emery made it to the bottom of the first set of steps outside the administration building before she realized she was still wearing her dreamform armor and her Peacemakers. The armor was the only thing she was able to dreamform reliably, and that was because she’d spent years learning to make it. She thought of something relaxing—this time, the idea of Edgar snuggled four blankets deep in his dorm room, watching Gunsmoke—and her armor melted into its own purple cloud and sunk into the clothing beneath it, a sweat-stained shirt and training pants. She removed her guns from their holsters before the holsters disappeared. The Peacemakers themselves shrank to fit the silver charm bracelet around her left wrist, just below her cuff.
The Peacemakers had taken years to make, too, but all she’d had to do was let them take shape. Dreamforms were made from the fabric of the Dream, crafted by dreamhunters using the same connection that gave them their strength and agility. The Peacemakers could shrink or grow, become heavy or light. They, like some other carefully and painstakingly constructed dreamforms, were permanent. They would never return to the Dream until Emery died.
Her brother, Edgar, wasn’t far enough into his training to make his weapon. He lived in Booling Hall with the other kids in his class, mostly children of dreamhunters. Because the exposure to the Dream necessary to create dreamhunters had to start so young, the best source of new recruits was dreamhunter children. Each Ward had a different method for producing more children, to ensure they never ran out. It was one of the few points of dreamhunting Emery tried not to think about: in a few short years, the Hypnos State would match her with another dreamhunter and expect her to put hunting on hold to manufacture a baby or two. Those kids would be exposed to the Dream and dropped into Booling, too.
The good news was the North American Ward tried to match power with power, the way they’d done with her parents, which meant that at the very least she’d never be paired with Wes.
Emery made her way up to Booling’s fourth floor. Here, most of the rooms were silent, the little ones tucked in for the night and the denmothers patrolling the floors to make sure no one tried to sneak out. She passed Edgar’s denmother, a jolly older man who’d worked for the academy longer than Emery had been alive, and knocked on the door to room 413.
“Who is it?” came a small voice.
“The Boogeyman,” Emery replied.
The door swung open. A thin boy a foot shorter than Emery shot out of the room and barrelled into her stomach, latching onto her. Emery grunted and held the doorframe to keep herself upright.
“I’m all sweaty.”
“Don’t care.”
She barely heard him. Edgar was already quiet when his voice wasn’t muffled by her shirt. Past him, the room blazed with light, and commercials flickered on the small TV between the two loft beds. Another boy peered around the door from his perch on the right bed.
“Aw, man, you shouldn’t have come back until morning!” said the boy. “I was trying to see if worrying about you would keep him awake.”
“Shut up, Morris,” Emery said. “You’re a horrible roommate.”
Morris stuck out his tongue and turned back to the television.
“Gunsmoke?”
“We were watching Bonanza before this.”
Edgar let go of her and stepped back. They shared their mother’s most prominent features: curly black hair, straight noses, steely blue-gray eyes. Emery had also inherited many of the rest. Thin lips, thick eyebrows, shoulders and hips for days, the ability to tan. Edgar was a much more perfect blending of their parents—their father’s lankiness, thick lashes, and pale skin that went up in flames in the summer—he just hadn’t grown into most of it yet.
“Grandpa Al says you’ve been watching my mission logs.”
Edgar flushed. “No—not a lot—”
“Enough to know pretty soon after I left tonight, and to tell him about it.”
“I only told him because you went alone. You’re not supposed to go alone.”
“Well, I was fine.” Emery held up her arms. “See?”
“Why did you go alone?”
“I knew I could handle it.”
Edgar frowned. “It’s because you don’t like Wes.”
“Maybe. So?”
“Wes is really nice. I don’t know why you don’t like being his partner.”
“Being nice doesn’t make him good in a panic situation.” Before Edgar could give her his baleful, guilt-inducing stare, Emery continued. “But Grandpa Al said I have to do missions with him for a month, and if it doesn’t work out, I can switch partners.”
The frown softened. He took another step back into the room, pulling the sleeves of his too-long sweater over his bony hands.
“Did you start your all-nighters?” Emery motioned to the many lights on in the room.
Edgar nodded. “We have to stay awake at least until 4 am.”
“All night hype!” Morris barked.
Edgar did seem gaunt, but more than normal. He’d always been pallid and sunken-eyed, like he was staring at her from far away in his head. Now there was a brightness to his gaze that brought the shadows of his face into sharp relief.
“Okay, well,” Emery said, “don’t let Morris out of the room. He’ll tear up the campus. And we’re watching Tombstone tomorrow night, don’t forget.”
“Tombstone again?” Morris whined.
“You don’t have to join in, Morris!”
Edgar smiled.
“Call me if you have trouble staying awake.” Emery ruffled Edgar’s hair and pushed him back into the room.
As he shut the door, Morris began making shotgun noises.
~
Edgar’s face remained at the top of Emery’s mind on her walk back to her own dorm. She thought of Cora Miller, and nightmares eating childrens’ minds, and Edgar’s expression going blank and braindead.
Unlike Emery, Edgar had been born after their parents passed through their Insanity Primes, the period in their mid-twenties when most dreamhunters succumbed to mental instability. By Hypnos State law, married dreamhunters had to at least try to have children before their Primes to ensure another generation of hunters. If a hunter lived through their Insanity Prime, the altered state of their body usually no longer allowed for pregnancy. Conception of a post-Prime child was so rare, Emery’s parents had moved from Moscow to the Sleeping City so Edgar could be researched and kept healthy. Hypnos State scientists had held Edgar isolated and under surveillance in the Fenhallow labs for years while he grew up, and they still didn’t know how he’d turn out.
It wasn’t his fault he was weird.
Emery was angry again by the time she made it to the front steps of Kirkland Hall, her dorm. On a campus full of small gothic castles, Kirkland was a queen; its white towers speared the night sky, almost taller than the administration building, and its massive black doors were etched with the blooming poppy. Inside, dreamhunter students sprawled across the lobby with textbooks and tablets and basked in the smell of late-night pizza. Draped across the front of the currently unoccupied denmother’s desk was a banner that read FENHALLOWEEN!!! SIGN UP BEFORE THE 20th. COSTUMES MANDATORY!!!!! surrounded by a few lopsided decoration pumpkins and a hissing black cat cut out of construction paper.
The news ran across the lobby flatscreen. Emery knew what was on it before she saw the story of the night. Terribly lit cell phone footage shot from the end of Mercer Street showed a massive purple cloud in the sky over the Miller house, and the shadow of the whale, and then the bright violet lights popping off one after another from a rooftop. The bottom of the screen said Massive nightmare appears in southcentral Harrington.
“Queen Emery again,” said one of the three students watching from the lobby couch.
“What did you expect?” said another. “Her M.O. is upstaging people. And she went without Jager.”
“Seriously?” said the third.
“He’s been here the whole time. I saw him in the library two hours ago.”
“I mean, I’d leave him behind, too,” said the first.
“Yeah, but look at that thing.” The second gestured to the screen, where the whale was diving toward the rooftop. “How do you see that on a term request and think, ‘Oh yeah, I can totally handle that monstrosity by myself’?”
Emery dug her fingers into her thighs to keep from clenching them into fists. She strode past the back of the couch and said very loudly, “It wasn’t on the request.”
The three of them jumped. She kept walking, letting her hair swish behind her, hoping she looked properly aloof and mussed from battle.
Around the corner behind the denmother’s desk was the staircase to the second floor, and beneath that, a wall of mailboxes that winked copper and gold in the dim lighting of the old yellow fixtures. Emery jarred to a halt; Wes stood alone at his mailbox, staring at the address on a piece of junk mail.
“How long have you been waiting for me?” she snapped.
He looked around. A furrow had dug itself between his eyebrows. He said nothing.
“Look, my grandpa wants me to apologize for what I said earlier, so I’m sorry. Or whatever.”
The furrow deepened.
“Thanks,” he said. Wes’s voice was so bassy he would blow out speakers if anyone let him near a microphone. “I could have helped you earlier.”
“I handled it fine on my own,” Emery said.
“I need the mission credit.”
“Sure, sure, so you can piggyback on my success.”
“I didn’t say that—”
“We’re going to have some real issues if you are. I don’t give handouts.”
“I didn’t ask for any—”
“I’m not here to teach you how to do your job.”
“I know how to do my job—”
“And if you—”
Wes snapped. “Stop interrupting me!” His back went ramrod straight, a muscle jumped in his jaw, and his black eyes flashed. “I know you think you’re great at everything and I get in your way. Trust me, I’m not happy about it either.”
Emery smoothed back her hair, rocking onto her heels. “Then why not ask for a different partner?”
“Because when you get paired with the best student in class, you don’t ask for anything else.” Wes’s cheeks flushed. He slammed his mailbox shut and twisted the key out. “It would be way easier to admit you’re the best if you didn’t annoy the hell out of me, but you are, and I’d rather face the Insanity Prime with someone who knows what they’re doing than with someone like—like me.”
“Hm.”
“I don’t expect you to understand,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll get through your Prime without a problem, no matter who your partner is.”
Goosebumps prickled Emery’s arms. She opened her mouth to argue, realized how pinned she was by Wes’s unrelenting stare, shut her mouth again, and pushed away from the mailboxes to start up the stairs.
“Well, whatever,” she said. “We’re still partners for a month. Don’t embarass me in class.”
Emery hurried to her room on the second floor, only pausing once the door was safely closed and locked behind her. She pressed her forehead to the wood and breathed in the quiet darkness.
The Insanity Prime manifested differently in different dreamhunters. It almost always happened in someone’s mid-twenties, and it almost always ended in the complete erosion of the mind by that special connection to the Dream. Some hunters developed violent moodswings, some experienced a disconnect from reality, some completely forgot who and what they were. Some lucky souls dealt with all three. Medication and therapy helped at first, but the erosion was unstoppable, and it always—always—culminated in a vicious dreamform of the hunter’s subconscious itself, physically identical to them in every way, called a doppelgänger.
If a hunter destroyed their doppelgänger, their Insanity Prime was halted, their mind healed, and they were rewarded the rest of their lives as dreamkillers.
If they didn’t—and many did not—they were laid to rest by the Hypnos State.
The Ashworths were dreamkillers. Emery could not think of any of her relatives who had not survived their Insanity Primes. Grandpa Al was famous for his lack of symptoms, and by all accounts both of her parents had brushed their Primes aside like minor annoyances.
She was expected to do the same. It wasn’t even a question among her professors, who looked at the other dreamhunter students with a sad kind of hopefulness, but gave Emery only passing glances. It had never seemed to concern her parents or Grandpa Al, who had only ever worried about her future involvement in the State, and not whether she’d live to see thirty. And she wanted to march back downstairs and punch Wes and tell him that yes, of course she did understand, she knew exactly how frightening it was to think constantly about where and when you’d start to lose your mind.
She didn’t feel unstable now, but she was only eighteen. What if it snuck up on her one day when she wasn’t expecting it? What if, despite her training, she wasn’t strong enough to defeat it? Would her professors ignore her when she called for help? She was an Ashworth, after all. She was bred to handle anything.
Maybe she wouldn’t even be an Ashworth. Part of her couldn’t imagine either of her parents disowning her, but another part thought of her father’s laid-back cheer turning to indifference, and her mother’s thunderous enthusiasm folding into anger. It wasn’t completely out of character for them. She’d seen it happen before, though not to her.
At least they were across the ocean right now, and couldn’t see her like this. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, scoffed in disgust, and began peeling off her sweaty clothes. Her classmates called her Queen for a reason.
She had a reputation to keep.
(Next time on The Children of Hypnos --> Em & Wes Get Their First Mission. It’s Totally Gonna Go Fine.)
19 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Hell can look appealing (part 2)
POV Alexis
January 3rd
I roll my eyes as Max walks away. Why does she have to be so dramatic? It’s just… Brandon.
“Your sister is the weird one!” He screams at her, even if she is already in the corridor.
“WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” I yell. I am not weird!
“Why does she call us weird?” He prefers to ask, probably knowing like me that it would lead us to another one of our numerous fights. I don’t know if I miss them or not. I can’t really decide now, it’s only our second normal conversation. I need more time to make a decision about it… even if it means talking to him more… Something I don’t mind as much as I did before. “Do we,” Brandon goes on, “I mean I, look weird?” He touches his hair, looking like one of these narcissistic actors. I try to force a grimace but it is so ridiculous that I laugh anyway. “Right now you do.” Even stupid, but I forgive you because it makes me laugh.
“Excuse you!” He exclaims.
“I told you it would kill me!” I chuckle. It’s not even a lie. I hate apologizing.
“You think I could kill you?” He raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one running around with a bat.” Correction: Mom runs around with a bat. I just use anything as a possible weapon… including, that’s true, bats.
“You… could make me angry so much that I would have a heart attack. Or an asthma attack.”
“I don’t even have to do anything for that it seems. You should be glad I knew CPR.” He makes a proud face as I frown, confused. Why is he talking about CPR?
“You… what?”
“What? What part is confusing?” He asks, as lost as I am.
“Why are you talking about CPR?”
“How else did you think you woke up? My magic wand?” He makes a short pause before adding: “Wait that sounds wrong..uh.” It sounds indeed wrong, but that’s not what bothers me on the moment.
“Wait… you… used… CPR… on me… your lips…” I feel like I am going to faint, or throw up. That is just so gross. Brandon who… “ARGH OH MY GOD THAT’S DISGUSTING! IT’S LIKE YOU KISSED ME!”
He doesn’t seem surprised by my screaming as he quietly replies. “Correction: Saved your life, and you’re welcome.”
I start pacing up and down in front of him, letting my thoughts get out of my mouth. “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LOOK AT YOU NOW ?”
“As a hero? Your breath smelled like alcohol by the way.” I glance at him and see him shrugs. “Why is it such a problem? It didn’t mean anything.”
BECAUSE I AM A DRAMA QUEEN LIKE THE REST OF THE WOMEN OF MY FAMILY.
“I DRANK OF COURSE IT SMELLED ALCOHOL.” I only answer, keeping the drama queen story for me. He’s already making fun of me, so I better shut up. I suddenly stop, his last sentence finally getting to my brain. It didn’t mean anything. “Wait… you’re right.”
“Of course I am.” He says as if it was the most natural thing ever. And I just admitted he was…
“Fuck you.”
“No, it was just CPR darling.”
I frown at him, fighting the envy to kick him in the balls just because he annoys me. “Fuck you.” I repeat.
He sighs. “Do you ever learn?” The answer is so obvious that I don’t need to say anything. “But no awkwardness then? You didn’t tell anybody right?” He goes on. I don’t understand why he cares so much about people knowing anything about our interactions. We don’t care since they don’t mean anything… right?
“Max?” I only say.
He sighs again. “Of course…”
“I had to tell her. Or she wouldn’t break up with the other Ken.” I explain for no reason. I realise too late that he doesn’t need to know that. “What a shitty name.” I add, hoping he won’t ask questions about the first sentence.
“That is an idiot name.” He only comments. Thanks God, he doesn’t seem to care at all. “Fine.” He eventually says. “No wonder she thought we were weird then.”
We were not weird. We’re still not. I rather keep talking about my sister and her ex than that.
“For once we agree on something… I’m glad she found the courage to get rid of him. He was bad for her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is she okay?” Okay maybe he cares actually.
I shrug, minimizing how much he hurt Max. Brandon doesn’t need to know that. “She will. Being here and not see him will help I think.” Abort mission Lex, you’re talking way too much. “Anyway, I have to unpack, so option 1 you leave or option 2 you help.”
He smiles at me. Why the fuck is he smiling? Luckily it doesn’t last and he quickly goes back to his normal face. “I heard bras, I’ll help.” He winks. Of course he will. He really only thinks about sex or what? Every time he can, he shows how much of a pervert he is. I look at my suitcases. Uh oh… “Fuck i forgot in which suitcase I let my underwears…”
He laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ll yell when I find them, and will not touch them.” Yeah, sure.
“You’ll yell or get hard?” I ask in a jocular way, as I turn around and open the first suitcase.
“I don’t get excited that easily dear, it’s not something new or anything.” Ugh, I don’t need to know his sexual life. And when will it stop giving me pet names? It get my hackles up… probably the only reason why he does it. He gets to another suitcase and starts to unpack.
“Given that you jump on everything that moves, excuse me if I was wrong to think that.”
“Ah, wrong again. I flirt with almost everything that moves, yes..” He doesn’t finish his sentence.
“As long as it’s not with me.” I roll my eyes and start placing my clothes in the closet, a thought crossing my mind. He already did.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He’s denying? Good, because I am determined to do the same. “Having to touch those lips was bad enough.” Given the tone his voice, he must be smirking.
“DON’T REMIND ME OF THAT THANK YOU.” I automatically scream, going back to the suitcase.
He laughs. “Oh finally some leverage.”
I take the first cloth in my suitcase and throw it at him. I start being done with him. “Fuck you.”
He grabs it, and I realize it is panties. Oh fuck. He holds it with just a few fingers, far away from him. “You make it look more and more like you actually want that to happen.” He says, wrinkling his nose. I’m personally glad to see we are on the same wavelength about that. (Who knows with Brandon, he always wants to get the girl.) The situation still is very awkward though. I take the panties back quickly and can’t help my cheeks from blushing. “Certainly not.” I stumble, trying to keep a normal voice but totally fail.
“Glad to hear so.” He coughs, which somehow reassures me. He feels as uncomfortable as me. “I think I’d better go. Homework and stuff..”
“Homework ? Does it mean you even do something of your life?”
“Yes. Yes I do. I don’t live to annoy just you, I have teachers and classmates for that too.” He looks almost tired by my constant barbs.
I think I surprise the both of us when I ask: “What do you study?” I gesture awkward. Everything is awkward now. Fuck. “Just curious.”
“Geometry and trigonometry.”
“Too much math. That’s boring.”
He looks vexed by my comment. Sorry man, I’m just saying the truth. Maths are boring. “Oh yeah? What do you like, besides making out with guards while drunk and burning cars?” He answers. Why don’t people stop with that burnt car? I didn’t burn it damnit! If they want to underline how much crazy I am, they can find another of my exploits! There are a lot of them!
“I didn’t burn the car, I told you.” If I repeat it enough, maybe he will stop with that. But probably not. He likes to do anything which could annoy me. Piece of shit. After a short pause, I answer his question. “I like medicine.” Maybe I enjoy too much his astonished face. You didn’t expect that piece of shit, huh? “You do? As in helping people?”
I can’t help it and smile devilishly. “As in opening human bodies.” I laugh at his face.
He shakes head. “Just when I thought you might be human…”
“More seriously I like that medicine is real science that helps people. Not like physics or even math… it’s too much theory.” I explain, ignoring him. I am too lazy to make a speech about what makes me human, including my violence. Sorry innocent little Brandon, but mankind is violent, it’s not something exclusive at my family.
“I can see your point yes..” He scratches back of head. Just when I started thinking the awkward moment was behind us. “It’s just all I do? I-I’ll find purpose some day.”
“You’re older than me and have no purpose, that’s kind of sad.” I notice, but not to make fun of him for once. It’s just a statement.
He looks hesitant, which intrigues me. “I know..I know..” He shakes his head. “I-I should go.” Is Brandon Jefford stuttering? I don’t know how to react at his sudden loss of confidence. This is not a behavior I am used to with him. I am not even used to having a normal conversation. As far as it is normal I guess…
I look down at my stuff, not daring to face him. “Hum… yeah.” I gesture at the stuff on the bed, which has barely changed since he arrived. “You’re not really helping anyway.” I quickly add, trying somehow to get away with this weird situation. To get away with this weird feeling.
“I don’t think you expected me to be any help.” He replies too seriously. Actually, yes. Why would I have asked him to help me if I didn’t? Pff… Idiot. “I’ll see you around I guess..” His shoulders slump as he turns around to walk away.
“I’ll try to be a little quieter.” I say without thinking twice. “But I can’t promise anything.” I make a little smile, internally yelling at myself. Why the fuck am I trying to be nice with this piece of shit? Since when do I care about what he feels?
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep right?” He grabs himself together and winks, but it isn’t natural.
“I’m just promising I��ll try. Not that I’ll succeed.” If I am awake at 3 am and in the mood to practice my music, I’ll do it for sure. But… I guess I can wear headphones when I play video games… and try not to scream. Gosh the last part will be hard. Why did I say that, I’m supposed to be intelligent…
“Good, good” He sounds more uncomfortable than ever, close to what I personally feel. “I’ll be uh next door. Bye Lex.”
“Bye Bran- piece of shit.” Damnit, I was going to say his name. Rather die than I let it happen one day! I hear him chuckle as he walks away. I look at the panties I am still holding and throw them in the laundry basket. What an idiot.
January 5th
I’ve been in the palace for two days, and it’s already a mess… at least in my bathroom. I opened all my vanity cases, threw everywhere my beauty products, breaking a cream pot in the process, and now it smells vanilla in the whole room (I buy everything with a vanilla scent, it’s my favorite perfume). Still. My shampoo is nowhere to be seen. I mean, yes I have shampoos, but not the ones I need. I grab a bottle of shampoo for dyed hair, wrinkling my nose. I am not hopeless enough to use that, certainly not. I look at the other bottles. My hair isn’t dry or greasy, I have no dandruff… I own all the shampoos for every capillary problem… except normal hair. I forgot normal hair. How could I forget normal hair, that’s the one I use the most! Then I remember that I finished the bottle Monday and just forgot to buy a new one before moving to the palace. I sigh. What do I do now? I won’t wash my hair with another shampoo type, no, rather shave it! I can’t ask Max, I always make sure she uses the assortment for curly hair. I won’t go out of the palace to buy some either, I will never have time to do my blow-dry before dinner. There is only one solution left. I have to borrow some to someone here. Hmm… who has normal shampoo in this palace? Probably a lot of people, they’re too stupid to take care of their hair correctly by buying the shampoo adapted to their hair type. Stupid stupid stupid… Of course! I have someone stupid just next to me! Brandon! This piece of shit must have normal shampoo! I immediately leave my room to go to his and knock on the door, impatient. “Hey piece of shit! I would need your help.” This last word should make him react for sure… but I get no answer and roll my eyes. I know he’s here, I heard him slam the door when he came back. And he is supposed to be the quiet neighbor… I open the door -not even locked, really an idiot. “You’re deaf or…” He’s laid on his bed, asleep. “Or just sleeping.” I sigh. Poor baby Brandon, so tired after his day at university. At the same time, he studies maths… really tiring indeed. He’s forgiven.
I slam the door behind me, but still get no reaction from him, except some weird sounds. I raise my eyebrows. “I didn’t think you were a heavy sleeper.” I say aloud, even if he can’t hear. I get closer and climb on the bed, standing above him. I try to ignore his muscled body, visible even with his shirt. After watching probably too long, I eventually clear my throat and scream to him to wake up -of course I don’t forget the “piece of shit”. He screams a loud and non masculine “AAAH”, slamming around and falling out of his bed. I burst out laughing. The way he fell… I regret not to have filmed that. Now he’s on the floor, his blanket around him. His sleepy face is almost cute. Almost -I’m not ready to admit that Brandon Jefford can be cute, okay? Or even… hot.
“What are you doing here?” He groans.
I’m here to annoy you and take advantage of it to check you out at the same time. If I stop lying to myself, it’s the only reason why I chose to borrow his shampoo.
“I need shampoo.” I only answer.
He looks at my body and blushes. “Uhm…” I frown. What’s the problem? He doesn’t like that I am standing on his bed? He shakes his head. “Yes… I have that.” I ignore his weird tone and jump off the bed. “Cool!”
“You sure you want to smell like me?” He asks getting up.
I don’t really have the choice idiot. I can almost feel my hair begging to be washed.
“I’m too lazy to go to Max’s room.” I lie. “And I hate her shampoo. Strawberry perfume, ugh.” Telling that is easier than explaining the differences between her shampoo and mine. And he’s a man.. how can he understand that?
“No who would want something sweet huh?” He sighs and I notice he looks everywhere except at me. I stare at him, trying to guess what’s his problem with my body. I place my hands on my hips. “Are you okay?”
“Uh.. yes of course! Don’t I look okay?” He makes a bright smile but it looks fake. I roll my eyes. “Nah you don’t look okay, you’re avoiding to look at me.”
“I’m just uh respecting your choice of clothing by not staring?”
I frown. What’s the problem with my choice of clothing? I wear that everyday… but he doesn’t see it. That’s the principle of underwears… I’m so used to walking around like that that I didn’t notice I was going to his room in underwears. “Ohhhhh.” I say when I understand. Then I shrug. “I wouldn’t mind if you looked.” It’s just a human body, man. Grow up a little. You saw other girls wearing less than that before me, and they were probably hotter. It’s nothing, really.
“It’s weird.” He says, taking off his vest and throwing it at me. Men said a lot of things about my body, but I’ve never heard weird. Thank you Jefford for remembering me you are a piece of shit.
I throw the vest away. “It’s too warm here.” I only answer, which isn’t even a lie. And I feel good dressed like that, I won’t put a vest on just because he doesn’t like it. “They don’t have air conditioning in this palace?”
“No not really.” He walks over the bathroom. I follow him.
“I feel like I’m roasting.” I go on.
“Yes… you’re right, maybe I should open a window.” Finally he admits I’m right! It’s like hell here!
“You should.” I agree.
He throws me the shampoo -always so gentle- and walks over a window to open it quickly. I rub the top of my head with a grimace. I received the bottle on the head. He’s not even able to aim correctly.
“Bran, have you seen your mo-” It’s Uncle Ray, who entered without being heard. He’s good at being discreet… and now he’s looking at us like we’re aliens.
Brandon turns his head in the direction of his father’s voice. He’s as red as the bra I bought for Max.
Uncle Ray blinks seeing me. “Oh no… I-Uh-” Always so good with words…
I smile. “Hey Uncle Ray! How are you doing?”
“A little uncomfortable at the moment.” He clears his throat. “Brandon?”
Brandon groans and rubs his forehead. “She just walked in dad. I swear..”
There’s something I don’t understand. I hate not understanding. What’s the fucking problem now? I probably said something aloud because Brandon gives me an angry glance. I keep my “fuck you” for me.
“Brandon, do you have any idea what your mom… and Tracie…!”
I frown and decide to finally ask what’s the problem. “Why would mom be involved? I just wanted shampoo.” I’m old enough to handle my hair problems without her… I am even the one who helps her with hers.
Uncle Ray sighs. “You’re your mother’s child…”
“It doesn’t sound like a compliment.” Being compared to her is rarely a compliment. They have been knowing her for years but sometimes she is just the psycho for them. I’ve always admired her but I guess not everybody does.
“I wonder why..” Brandon says.
“Fuck you.” Don’t insult my mother asshole. Yours eats brownies all day! That is not normal.
“Just-” Uncle Ray starts. “I’ll walk away now.” He turns around shaking his head.
“See at you at dinner!”
“Uh yes, please change before then.” And he leaves without saying anything else. Once I’m sure he’s far away, I ask Brandon. “Why do I feel so lost?”
He scratches the back of his head. “You feel lost? You?” He shakes his head, mumbling. “Oh never mind.” He goes back to the bedroom and picks up the vest I threw away.
“A little bit, yes.” I answer following him. I prefer to ignore his last sentence.
“Why?”
“I don’t get what is the problem. Your father and you were acting so weird.”
“You’re in your underwear!!!” He screams. What? It’s always that the problem? I’ll stop wearing them if they mind so much… pff.
“And?”
“I give up.”
I roll my eyes at his behavior. “C’mon, you saw hundreds of girls in their underwears. It shouldn’t touch you so much.”
He gets angry. “Hundreds?! So you’re trying to make fun of me or something?”
I stay strangely calm when I answer, but I already know that it won’t last. The fight is coming. “No. I just exaggerated. Something I often do, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Why not just wear clothes huh?” Because I was about to take my shower and was in underwears when I realized I didn’t have shampoo? “What is your point!” He exclaims.
“I’m just saying you got many girlfriends. That’s all.”
“Sure. Fine. Real original.”
“I’m not trying to be original.”
“Succeeded.”
“You’re annoying.” I sigh. His anger just doesn’t make any sense.
“So what? This is what we do? Annoying each other?” I hold back a “yes” as he goes on. “And you do that by walking around half naked?!”
I finally start screaming. “I just came for shampoo! Why does it drive you so mad?!” If he wasn’t so complicated, I would be already gone and washing my hair!
“You’re impossible!!”
“You’re even more impossible!” I yell back.
“Well if I dated so many girls, you’re more impossible than all of them!!”
And now he has a problem with the fact I think he dated a lot of girls! He should rather feel proud! Is it not a compliment?
“It’s not complicated, you never stay long enough with them to discover how a pain in the ass they can be!”
He gets closer to me. We’re face to face now. “I heard you are just as bad!”
“I have good reasons! I doubt you do!”
“What reasons?” He asks. “At least I stay friends with most of them!”
Men are just selfish idiots who don’t care about hurting people, especially girls. Not getting too close just enables not to become one of this naive girls with a broken heart. And Brandon Jefford is on the top of the list. And he can still die to know that. I look down and ball my fists, and surprisingly, it makes him calm down. “Wha-what? I’m sorry Lex.. are you okay?”
“You? Sorry?”
He sighs. “I try?”
“Then keep trying.” I say nastily, taking the shampoo. “I should go.”
I think he didn’t expect me to clam up. I can hear regret in his voice when he replies. “Oh right, okay.. Good luck washing her hair?” He adds with embarrassment. If he thinks it will save the situation, he is kidding himself.
“It won’t be difficult, my hair is short.”
“My room is the closest.. If you wanna… you know talk or something.” It must be a surprising proposal coming from him, but I stay cold.
“No thank you.”
“No sure.. Good, I didn’t want to listen anyway.”
“Fuck you.”
He smiles, and somehow it makes me want to smile too. But then he says. “That works.” which makes me groan. “What works?”
“Uh…” What lie is he preparing? “The shampoo! Great for volume, look at this!” He runs his hands through his hair. “Huh? Huh?”
He looks so stupid that I can’t help but laugh lightly. “I’m not sure it works then.”
He smiles. “See you at dinner, smelling like me.” He winks. Idiot. The smell of the conditioner will cover the one of the shampoo.
“Pff…” I only say, and leave without waiting for an answer.
Few hours later, I am quietly painting my nails in pink, set on my bed. My hair is now brighting and perfectly brushed. I feel so much better.
Barbara is sleeping next to me, on a pillow. She loves big pillows like that. This dog is such a diva. Suddenly she raises her head and barks at the closed door, which opens on Max.
“I need to talk.” She says with a panicked voice. I blow on the hand I just paint and pat the bed with the other one. She comes there quickly, doing her awful puppy look. It’s almost impossible to resist to that face. That’s probably how she charmed all her exes…
“Do I need to kill someone?” I ask nonchalantly.
She rolls her eyes. “I need to talk, nothing more Lex.”
“Okay okay. Talk then.”
But as I still blow on my hand, nothing comes. She stays incredibly silent.
“Max?”
“I KISSED DANTE!” She screams out of nowhere. “Well… he kissed me…”
Oh fuck. I really didn’t need that. I look at my feet. The pedicure won’t be for now. I sigh and look up at her. “Tell me everything.”
January 10th
“Where are you going?”
Max enters my room. During two seconds, I hope it is actually Brandon, coming to annoy me or just to talk. I shake my head. I think about this idiot too often, I want to see this idiot too often. My twin raises an eyebrow, reading in me as always.
“He’s not in the palace, even I know that.” She tells me.
I frown. I know too, I heard him leave in the morning, probably to go to college.
“Anyway, you didn’t answer. Where are you going?”
She points my bag on the bed and the stuff in my hands. Curious Max is not what I need right now. I think it’s time for a distraction.
“Have you talked to Dante yet?”
She immediately blushes but looks maybe a little bit sad. “Uhm not since…”
“Your drunk party. Got it.” I nod, smirking. I like teasing her about Dante. I noticed the glares she gave him few months ago. At the beginning, I used that as an once of the several reasons she should break up with Ken. “Max, you can’t have a crush on a guy who’s not your boyfriend!” And now… it’s a little bit more complicated. It’s still funny to make her blush about it, but they kissed and I wonder if a serious relationship is possible for them. As long as she’s happy, I guess it’s okay… Even if this guy seems to be a mess. She always dates messes. And I always have to clean up after.
“You aren’t avoiding him at least?” I ask, putting a grenade in my bag while she’s looking somewhere else.
“I can’t avoid someone who stays in his room all day long.”
Thanks for this answer, Max. You’re avoiding him.
“And I can’t avoid someone who’s not there either.” I say. She perfectly knows who I am talking about. Oh fuck, she’s gonna ask questions. Time to disappear. I take my bag. Damn, I didn’t think it would be so heavy. “See you… probably tomorrow.”
She crosses her arms and blocks the door. I sigh. I don’t need stubborn Max either.
“Are you going outside without me?” She looks shocked. I understand. I would be already screaming if she was leaving the palace to do a dirty trick in town without me. But she just can’t go with me this time.
“Yep. Take care of Barbara for me.” My French bulldog raises her head from her basket, hearing her name, and barks. Stupid dog. I wanted her to bark at Brandon’s door to wake him up but all she can do is sleep and eat. I feel like I own the dog version of Max.
My sister squints. “I’ll have my revenge.”
“There are more chances Dante takes you to a date than it happens.” I laugh and get out of my room.
“I hate you, Alexis!” Max screams.
I wave at her and disappear in the corridors.
I look at the tree I have to climb. How will I do that with my small and non muscled body? I shake my head and adjust my backpack. Max should stop dating weird guys. Every time I have to get revenge for her. I don’t know how I succeed, but I climb that stupid tree, with the skin of my hands all grazed. I ignore the pain and sit on a large branch, taking my binoculars. From where I am, I have a great view on Ken’s bedroom. The asshole is there, working at his desk. He can work, surprising. He doesn’t look in my direction, good. I take the grenade in my bag. I hope I won’t miss my launch, I have only one chance. Okay, Lex, you can do it. I pull the pin out of the grenade and throw it through his window, luckily open. I watch the gas contained in the grenade spill in his room. In ten seconds, he’ll be sleeping like a baby. I smile when I see him fall against his desk.
“Thank you so much, Mom.” I say out loud. She creates great weapons. I just hope she didn’t notice that a sleeping grenade was missing before she left for Swendway.
I wrinkle my nose when a thought suddenly crosses my mind.
HOW WILL I GET DOWN OF THIS TREE NOW?
I look down at the grass. Goodness, this is so high. I take a deep breath. Okay Lex. You climbed until here. So you can go down. I look into the bag, praying to find the grappling iron. Obviously I forgot it. I curse and wrap my arm around the trunk. I don’t really have the choice anyway. Or I call 911 and I explain what I was doing here. Hm… I already dealt too much with the police. Let’s climb down and hope not to die.
I successfully climb down, until the last two meters. Or maybe three meters. Anyway, I break a branch and miserably fall on the ground, obviously on the ass. I insult all the mothers of the world while I rub my poor ass. Probably flattened until my death.
I stop complaining and take the binoculars again, turning on the thermal view to check the inside of the house. There’s nobody except Ken. Good.
I unlock their main door with a credit card and enter, half disappointed. It’s so easy that it’s getting a little boring.
I go upstairs and look for the bathroom. Quickly find it and seek for an electric razor. Go to his room and smirk at his thick hair, laid on the desk.
The revenge may start.
On my way back to the palace, hours later, I can’t help but sing softly, feeling light. I did what I had to do for Max. And now I know for sure that he won’t stalk her or something.
I feel so light that I don’t notice that he comes back at the same time as me. I scream when he appears in the middle of the bushes. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
“Shhhhhhuuuuuuussssshhhh” He says, looking a bit tipsy. “I just had a little fun.”
I raise an eyebrow. “A little fun, that’s right.” Can’t be as fun as my fun though.
“You?” He gives me a nudge.
“Got my revenge on someone.” I answer coldly. He doesn’t need to know more. Every time I see him, he finds a way to make me tell something I wouldn’t usually.
“What did you do now?” He laughs.
“You don’t need to know.”
“You never tell me anything huh?”
“Because I feel like it’s a bad idea to tell you things.” I answer honestly.
“You don’t trust me?”
I do, that’s all the problem.
“I don’t trust myself.”
“What? Why?”
Because I am talking to you and enjoying it piece of shit.
“If I tell you something, I can’t help telling something else, until you know things I don’t want anyone to know.” I don’t know what makes me so direct tonight. I don’t watch my words like I usually do when someone is around. I am close to confide things to him to be honest. Things I keep secret. But I don’t mind as much as I should.
“You burned a car and I know that. How bad can it be?”
Why does he keep bringing the burning car story?
“I didn’t burn any car.”
“Right.” He looks down. “Sorry.”
“But… I maybe got my revenge from the one who did it.” I say before thinking, a smile strangely playing on my lips.
“That’s awesome!” He shouts, raising a hand for a high five. “I mean… Uh kinda cool?”
The smile grows up. “That’s incredible.”
He keeps his hand raised, waiting for that high five. He looks pathetic.
“Why would you deserve a high five?” I tease. “I did it on my own.”
“Rude! I wanted to celebrate with you!”
I roll my eyes and raise my hand.
“Yes!” He exclaims, now looking like a happy puppy.
“You’re an idiot.” But I make the high five.
“Won’t deny it.” A curious light appears in his eyes. “So what did you do to the guy?”
With a sigh, I tell him the story.
And a lot more.
I need approximately two days to understand that he is avoiding me.
When he first ran away after that night, I didn’t mind, too happy that I didn’t have to face him after what I told him, after I cried in his arms, after I showed him my weakness. I was secretly thanking him for that, I needed time to think alone.
I figured that Brandon Jefford made me like him.
When he avoided to look at me during the dinner, while I was right next to him, it arranged me. I was too afraid to stupidly blush like a thirteen-year-old girl with her first crush if he looked at me. He left the table before everyone, and I watched him disappear, wondering how I could have such mixed feelings for him, powerful and frightening at the same time.
I figured that Brandon Jefford made me fall for him.
When I went to his room and knocked on his door, I was way too hopeful. The shampoo I was holding was just an excuse to talk to him, to see his damn charming smile again. Seeing he wasn’t answering to my knocking, I turned the doorknob, ready to enter on my own. But it was locked. I frowned and looked down… and saw his shadow under the door. I dropped the shampoo. He didn’t want to see me, or to have anything to do with me. I stepped back until I was leaning against the wall, and let myself slump on the carpet of the corridor, the warm tears burning my cheeks as they rolled down.
I figured that Brandon Jefford made my heart break into pieces.
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
mania-kolektifdergi
MANIA
yet-another-haven-of-dollya
DoLLya - Robin protector
willow-miros
unfinished wips central
peacefxlmyko
𝖒𝖞𝖐𝖔
altiusgraphics
ALTIUS Graphics