#or that he’s completely in the wrong for not listening to wille/royal court in the first place im 😭😭😭
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about simon’s social media plotline
instead of deleting it, why didn’t simon just temporarily deactivate his instagram/make a private account?
all season, simon has been trying to find workarounds to his worsening situation when it comes to outside pressures and an increasingly stifling environment. he tries to find ways to still be himself and have some sense of freedom, even with all the criticism and negativity being hurled his way.
he’s hit with a barrage of hate comments everywhere? fine. he’ll reply to some of them, just to make sure that everyone gets a sense of who he really is. but he soon finds that when he does so, he’s only met with even more hatred and people coming for his throat. and wille himself tells him replying will only make things worse, so he should try to refrain from doing so.
okay, then. he might not be able to directly comment and tell the world who he is and how all of this is making him feel, but he can show them. so he uploads the video of him singing, the thing he loves most in the world, and he expresses himself through that original song. but that doesn’t work either, and wille tells that simon shouldn’t be posting those things on social media because they can easily be misinterpreted and cause harmful speculations and media attention. and to make things worse, there’s a whole new barrage of hate comments, this time leaning into more sinister territory.
but simon is not going to give up so easily— even if tons of people online are telling him that he’s a golddigger and pathetic and chasing fame, he knows that those aren’t his intentions. he’s with wille because he loves him, and he’s not looking for fame or wealth out of it. and all simon wants out of life is to make some positive change in the world. so of course he can’t help himself when he adds himself to the post of the picture he took with the younger boy who looks up to him. he’s hopeful and a little giddy about it all, because he is making a change. he is helping and inspiring others. he wants to share that with others.
and then simon goes home to find that an anonymous stranger has thrown a rock through his window, into his house.
simon loves his family dearly. he would do anything for them. and someone he likely doesn’t even know hated him enough to threaten his family’s safety, his mother’s safety, by finding his house and breaking the window with the rock. being harassed on social media and in person by reporters fucking sucks, but in simon’s mind, at least that’s only affecting him. but this? this is too far. this is his family, and they’re unintentional targets now, too. they aren’t even safe in their own home anymore, where they’ve lived in the last fourteen years.
so when jan olof and farima come by and tell simon to delete his social media accounts for his own safety— not temporarily deactivate, not make private, specifically delete— simon does it. because private accounts and deactivations are workarounds, and to simon, workarounds have only made things worse. it’s not just him on the line anymore, it’s his family and safety and his relationship with wille altogether, so he does exactly what the royal court says and deletes his accounts. workarounds just aren’t worth it.
okay, but why is deleting his instagram account such a big deal? he can always make a new one, so why does it matter?
one of the first times that we get a deeper look into who simon is, not coincidentally, through the contents of his instagram account! when wille is lurking on simon’s profile, we get a solid introduction into the key aspects and people in simon’s life. he he has two best friends who he adores, he loves his sister and his mother, and even his bio says “music makes my world go round”.
but looking past that aspect for now, we also get to see who simon is outside of social media and these close relationships: he’s very outspoken, doesn’t let others silence him (even in his very first scene, he sings louder when vincent makes fun of him), is unafraid to call others out on their bullshit and has strong values that he’s quick to share.
but throughout season three, as simon is faced with more and more pressure and cruelty on behalf of the public and royal court, he starts losing himself. he finds that singing isn’t as enjoyable anymore, he becomes quieter and quieter. he initially fights back when he feels that the royal court is being unreasonable, like when he was first told by wille about being careful on social media, but eventually just reaches a point where he stops and just takes it. he ends up going against his own values just for the sake of not fighting with wille during the sit-in, despite clearly being bothered by it. and of course, this isn’t helped by the fact that he’s not on speaking terms with sara again until much later and his relationship with his mom is strained until mid-season, so a integral part of his support system isn’t able to help him until he was a little too deep into all this.
so looking back at the social media aspect, simon deleting his instagram accounts is the nail in the coffin. he publicly displays his unabashed love for his family, friends, and music through his posts, all of which are essential to his sense of self and who he is as a person, and we see him literally delete it all. this drives home the point that simon is deleting himself, and marks one of his lowest points in terms of losing and changing himself to try and fit into a space that will never be made for someone like him. square peg in a circular hole.
so yes, realistically, simon deleting instagram is a sad thing to see, although not necessarily earth-shattering. but metaphorically? it’s everything.
why were there only hate comments? sweden is very progressive in terms of queer rights and social acceptance, so it couldn’t have been that bad.
of course, i can’t speak for lisa and the rest of the team, but i feel that this was an intentional detail. because the truth is, there probably weren’t only hate comments! we even see the initial response after simon posts the clip of him singing, and it’s positive.
but as an overall society, we tend to take criticism harder than we do compliments. you likely don’t remember that one time last week where a stranger complimented your hair or outfit or handwriting, whatever it may be, but you probably do remember the last time someone told you that your efforts weren’t enough. you probably remember the last time you got a bad review or a bad grade on something you tried hard on, or when someone made fun of your interests. and speaking as a teenager, i can confirm that this is a huge thing to us as well— we want to be accepted and complimented, we want to be wanted, and when we aren’t, it feels like it’s the end of the world.
so of course simon would take all those disgusting comments to heart. anyone would, especially when they haven’t had any time to prepare for it. so as more and more hate comments roll in, it’s harder to pay attention to the positivity that may also be there. from simon’s point of view, the hate is everywhere and too much to ignore, so that’s what we get to see. we see criticism and threats and people being mean, because those are the responses and the view that affect simon the most.
tldr; simon deleted his instagram because he felt that using another workaround in deactivation/private acc would be a risk, it’s a big deal because by literally deleting his social media the writers show that simon is deleting himself, and there’s mostly hate comments because through simon’s pov those are the ones that are the most impactful.
#it’s okay to not like the storyline ofc but it’s getting annoying to see people use it against simon over and over again#saying that he’s dramatic because “he didn’t have to delete his acc” “it’s just social media get over it”#or that he’s completely in the wrong for not listening to wille/royal court in the first place im 😭😭😭#simon is trying his best in a crappy situation that no one should have to handle in the first place and you’re here coming for his throat??#anyways i need to give him a hug. he and wille both need the biggest hugs in the universe#i rly enjoyed this storyline though! social media involvement is chekov’s gun and i’m glad the writers used it to their advantage#young royals#simon eriksson#simon young royals#young royals analysis#lisa ambjörn#avi rambles#wilmon#long post#long text post
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-JACK WAINWRIGHT; HER NAME WAS TEMPERANCE
"Oh Mercy, surely you’ll see fit to make an exception, just this once? She’s learned her lesson... it was but an apple, my love, stay your hand.”
In the time before seelie and unseelie, they were Fae and Fae alone. And in the unified court, lived one known as Temperance. No princess nor royal, Tempe was still essential to the function of the kingdom, in a time that touted an eye for an eye, it was her careful, kind hand that guided many hearings toward a gentle, diplomatic solution. It was also her hands that held the reigns restraining her lover, a dullahan judge known as ‘Mercy’, though the true words they were both called by were lost in the schism that appeared when the courts separated.
Rarely seen without one another, Tempe stood tall and graceful, swathed in light and kindness where Jack stood dark and oppressive, and while he was the arbiter, the redeemer for crimes and distributor of punishment, It was often softened- or circumvented completely with a few soft, kind words from the gentle tempered fae alongside him. His whip often remained wound at his waist, the flames licking around his head calm, the words adorning black-stained arms invisible and unlit.
Her place was the gardens, among the flora of the feywild, the stables with steeds, whispering affection as she plaited strands of metal and lovely stones into the manes of great horses and the antlers of towering deer. His was on the battlefield, with her sigils on the armor of himself and Tuagh, and the sweetness of her breath lingering on his lips, a promise to return home to her alive. He fought because it was what he was made for- never striking down the healthy and living, but riding the battlefield clad in gold and blue, quieting the suffering of those who cried his name.
Mercy.
It would continue like this for some time, the Hessian of Temperance carrying out his tasks, as a punisher and a gentle hand offering a final rest to those who would suffer otherwise, and the Maiden of Mercy quietly speaking her diplomacy to those willing to listen. Eventually she found herself a courtier, and following behind, loyal as ever, her knight would join, attending lavish parties and balls bare of glamor, their loyalties clear on their clothing, infernal dullahan and lovely pureblood claiming a place among revelers with eyes only for one another. A fact that would anger a courtesan.
An anger they would meet the wrong end of before either of the lovers, so blind in their affection, could do anything to circumvent.
“I find myself rather poorly, Mercy, perhaps I should rest my eyes... Yes, I should rest my eyes a moment... When i wake, we’ll go for a walk in the gardens... And we can.... attend the stables.... I’ve not seen Tuagh in some time...Don’t look so sad, Mercy... I’ll be... right as rain... in time.”
Temperance would find herself bloodied, magically poisoned at the end of an enchanted dagger, and her life fading settled in the grasp of her ever-loyal knight. She would plead, in her final moments, that Mercy show his namesake to her murderer, that he not punish a man for taking her from the world in jealousy. Something in him died as she did, faded from the world of fae alongside her, and as Temperance drew her last breath, many believe that Mercy died as well- The Crooked Man, Jack, rising in his place.
The courtier was killed with impunity, with flame licking at his shoulders Jack tore the man’s head from his own, throwing it at the feet of the stunned courtiers. He declared that with no loyalties to cling to any longer, there was no reason for him to play nice with a kingdom of pompous fools- he would cast his judgments as he saw fit, and he would spend not a second longer in the company of the people who would protect a man who’s possessive lust would see them both without Temperance instead of allowing her to love him alone.
He would gather her body, and ride silently to the waterside where they’d met, silently cracking the earth to gently return her to it. He would sit there for some time, sunrise and sunset over his head, armor rusting and dark, his steed loyal at his side, her own grand adornments torn, tattered and perverse, once gold now tarnished. Eventually he would move once more. Punishment did not end with the loss of temperance.
But it would continue in a much crueler manner.
Temperance’s grave remains notable, glowing, ornate flowers in blues, purples and pinks sprouting along the riverside, only one side of the water adorned with her lingering magic, the same flowers now chipped and broken on Tuagh’s armor. Her resting place a picturesque glade even among the beauty of the Feywild.
Her knight, however, would never be so kind as to be Mercy again.
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Diavolo- True Form
Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.
Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!)
Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!
Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub
Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing.
Diavolo-
He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.
No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.
Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.
But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.
On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.
The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.
Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .
You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.
He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.
You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.
Mini Fic
He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.
Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.
The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.
Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.
He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.
It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.
"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.
He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.
Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."
Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.
Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.
It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.
You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.
Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.
"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."
"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"
"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."
With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"
The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.
It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.
Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.
The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.
"I had not meant for it to go like this." Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.
“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.
A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.
He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.
Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.
Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.
“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”
Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.
The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”
“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.
“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.
“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”
“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.
“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.
As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.
You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.
Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”
He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back? He would let you.
You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”
Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.
“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.
“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.
You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.
The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.
“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”
That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.
“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”
“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.
“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.
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Far Off Places (CH 2)
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3
Word Count : 3,022
^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^
It took a few hours to wake up, but when you did, you sat up in a cold sweat, sharp pains shooting through your ribs, legs, and back. Almost three days of walking and running had taken a huge toll on your body. You scrunched your face in pain and shot a hand to your chest, noticing bandages around your arm and hand. That’s when you were very aware of your surroundings and two other figures in your peripheral. You looked at them in shock, their faces mirroring your same expression. You remembered the one with the wings just as you fell to the ground, but this second person you hadn’t seen. How many people were here, you wondered.
You tried to speak but your throat was raw and all that came out were raspy whispers and coughs. The one with wings looked at the taller one and motioned to a doorway. The taller one nodded and walked away swiftly, coming back seconds later with a bottle of water and another one full of a sparkling pink liquid. He handed you both of them and advised to drink the pink one first and wash it down with the water, explaining it was a health potion. You obliged and gulped it as fast as you could, almost gagging from the taste, and quickly chugged and swished the water after, feeling the effects almost instantly. You thanked them both and handed the bottles back to the boy and he took them back through the doorway, leaving you and the winged man alone. You fiddled with the bandages on your arms for a moment and cleared your throat a couple times before finally speaking.
“Where am I? Who are you? Thank you for the help.” The man lightly chuckled and took off his hat, his hair falling to frame his face. “My name is Philza, but you can call me Phil. The other one is Ranboo, he’s our friend that lives over by the mountain.” His voice had a very thick accent, unlike the boy, Ranboo. You nodded and he continued. “You’re outside of the Dream SMP. I live with Ranboo here with Technoblade. He goes by Techno. He’s currently asleep and we’re not sure when he’ll wake up. You’ve seen our dogs,” he chuckles out, drawing a smile onto your face. You scratch the back of your neck and heat makes its way to your face. “I’m sorry if I woke you. Your dogs made quite the ruckus.” He smiles fondly at you and waves you off. “Oh, don’t worry about it. We’re normally up around that time anyway. Days have been pretty restless lately, what with all the wars and such going on.”
He notices the worry on your face and goes on. “We tend to stay out of things. We’ve been involved too many times and we all like to keep things peaceful. These cabins are essentially a safe place. No one really knows where we live and we’d like to keep it that way. You aren’t here as a spy are you?” You shake your head and look down at your hands, bruises and cuts litter your body, but are slowly fading thanks to the potion from earlier. “No, I uh…” You clear your throat and steel yourself to speak more. “I… I travelled for three days to get here. My homeland was destroyed and I have nowhere to go.”
You look up at the man, the younger boy now standing next to him, staring at you in wonder and concern, the same concern seen in Phil’s eyes. “I’m still not sure how much I can trust anyone so I won’t say much more, but I lost my home and everyone I know. I’ve come a long way and I need somewhere safe. The person that murdered and burned my home could still be out there, and I need help. I know we’re strangers but I hope to trust you two more. You seem like nice people and, if you’re willing, I’d like to find some help some day to go back and figure out what happened.”
They both stare at you for a while until Phil smiles politely and nods. “Of course! Do you have a name you’d like us to call you?” You think for a minute, not being able to come up with a name to go by so as to keep your real name hidden. Ranboo speaks up a minute later. “We could call you Faer, if that’s ok. As a name it means Traveler.” You smile brightly at the small name and nod. “I guess that fits, seeing as I am technically a traveler now. I didn’t do much of that back home, so sure, let’s go with that.” They both nod in unison. “Faer,” you say to yourself. A fitting name, short and sweet and it rolled off the tongue nicely. Maybe one day when you knew you could trust them you’d tell them your real name, but for now that nickname would do.
They gave you some supplies, a bed, and some armor and better clothes after you got some rest and pointed you to a good spot to set up your own little home. They also gave you a map of the surrounding areas and gave you a rundown of some of the people that lived in the main cities, but there were so many that you forgot half of them. Ranboo followed you out to pick a spot to settle down, idly chatting about how life was in the area, who to stay away from, where all the farms were, and just general stuff to pass the time. Eventually you ran out of wood so you both ventured into the woods to chop some more.
After a couple hours, your small abode was looking good. It wasn’t anything fancy or as big as Techno or Phil’s houses, but it did the job. All you had to do yet was finish putting walls up inside, decorating, and making it pretty outside. You added some fences to give yourself a front yard, placed torches to liven up the place, and also made a small deck out front facing the aforementioned houses. It took a couple more hours of work to get the inside done, but everything was done around sunset and you were ready to pass out. Phil came over close to the end and said Techno was awake and they would be over soon to welcome you in. You were grateful to have such a warm welcome, but you were still on edge. How well could you trust these people? Sure, they gave you plenty of things and were friendly, but it felt like they were hiding something or were keeping information away from you. The way they would shirk off certain questions or avoid subjects completely was weird. You assumed it was because they didn’t trust you either, so you shrugged it off. You were a stranger to them. A person that ended up passing out on their land, giving them no info on who you were or where you came from. You were lucky you ended up here, though. Hearing some of the stories Ranboo told you made you glad this was the closest on your journey.
Ranboo returned, after leaving to clean himself up, with some flowers, a diamond sword, and a couple emeralds to get you started. After chatting with him for a couple minutes you heard a knock on your front door, signaling the return of Phil. You hopped off of your seat and opened the door to greet him. He had a couple dishes of various kinds of foods piled into his arms, so you gladly took some from him. What you were not prepared for was Techno. You didn’t know what to expect, as Phil had given no description, but the tall half pig, half human standing behind the winged man with a disgruntled look on his face, flowing red cape, and glinting golden crown was absolutely something you weren’t expecting. I mean, you weren’t one to judge, you just had no clue what to expect. Phil walked past you and asked Ranboo for help setting everything up, leaving you with the large man. He gave you a huff and walked past you, cape gently hitting you in the shins as the wind from him walking pushed it out behind him. You stood there, slightly in shock with the door open, as he made himself at home in your new living room. You closed the door and turned around to see him with his head hanging off the back of the couch, eyes closed and arms crossed. He did just wake up, maybe he’s still tired.
The night was going well in your eyes. You and Ranboo were getting along well and you could see why he was saying Phil was very much like a powerful father figure. Techno joined in on some conversations occasionally when he thought he had something to say. You asked him some simple questions but he refused to answer anything. You chalked it up to him not trusting you at all so you let it slide and shrugged it off. Phil had nudged him or elbowed him a few times if he thought he was getting out of line, but you waved it off saying you weren’t bothered. Honestly you weren’t bothered. You had heard worse in your courts back at home, so little phased you at this point. Thinking about your home had apparently made you zone out, because you were brought back to real life when you heard your new name being called. Ranboo had shook your shoulder lightly, concern etched onto his and Phil’s faces, amusement and curiosity finally glinting in Techno’s eyes. You laughed lightly and put a hand to your face, feeling wetness on your cheeks. When had you started crying?
“Faer, are you ok? What’s wrong?” Ranboo’s hand retracted and he stared at you with intense focus, very clearly concerned. You looked down at your empty plate, long forgotten from the hours before during your conversations. You contemplated telling them the truth, second guessed yourself, then shook your head and covered your face with both hands, letting out a short sigh. You knew you would have to tell them eventually, and you supposed now was as good a time as any. You started off at your lineage, being born into a royal family, being sheltered since you were young, your training and lessons. Everything shortened into smaller stories to keep things simplified. Everything leading up to your parents inevitable deaths and you becoming the ruler of a whole kingdom.
Techno had perked at the words “royal family”, finally becoming invested in something and listening closely, asking questions every once in a while. Ranboo and Phil sat in shock as Techno had basically taken over the conversation, you pouring out details as he asked. You weren’t sure why exactly you were letting him get so much out of you, but all of them seemed to relax the more you talked about your past, until finally you reached the downfall of your oversized city. Ranboo had gotten more invested in this, and seemed to want to figure out how it happened as well. He said he was a fan of theories and small details that seemed to be hidden, so he agreed to helping you find the arsonist.
They asked for coordinates so you got up, grabbed all the plates to take them to the kitchen, found your journal, and brought it back to where everyone was sitting. Ranboo’s eyes lit up as he watched you flip through the pages and you caught onto his gaze and smiled. He opened his own bag and brought out a journal silently, smiling the whole time, mentioning how he kept his own journals. You made a mental note to try to ask about them at another point as he put his away. You finally flipped to the page holding info about your kingdom and pulled out a map from between the pages as well, flipping them to face Techno and Phil. They looked over everything and you watched intently as they pointed and flipped, exchanging words every few seconds.
“We can just make a portal,” Techno finally grunts out. “Most of our locations we stay in have portals to each and highways connecting to the main portal by the community house. The only thing we would worry about is having you out and about. Some of the people here… Aren’t so trustworthy.” You think back to your conversation with Ranboo and nod. “Yeah, Ranboo said something about an Egg? What’s that all about?” They all go quiet and you feel like you’ve asked the wrong question. “I’m assuming it’s nothing good, so I won’t press anymore, but if it’s unavoidable then you’ll have to tell me eventually.” Phil speaks up from his side of the table. “Well, all we should tell you now is to not touch the vines, and if you hear anything to let us know right away. Don’t trust any bad thoughts.” You were taken back by that but hesitantly croaked out an ‘ok’ and left it there.
You all spent the last hour together coming up with a plan to get you to your kingdom, what you could look for, and who else you might be able to trust. The date was decided to be set for a week from the present day and you would find two more people, Karl and Sapnap. Ranboo said you would get along well with them and they were people they knew could help that had a lot of knowledge. Karl was a master at problem solving and a time traveler (though he still didn’t know exactly how to control it and only used it when he had to), and Sapnap was born in fire so he knew it well, meaning he might be able to know something from the wreckage. After everything was said and done, you were waving goodbye as they all crossed the snow covered field to their separate homes.
You shut the door and sighed, leaning your back against the solid wood plank, your head also falling back to rest on it, eyes closing as you listened to your breathing and heartbeat. The gentle crackling from the fireplace and torches calmed your nerves more as you pushed off the door and made your way to the kitchen to extinguish some of the lights. After cleaning up and tidying everything, you looked over the living room once more and smiled to yourself, finding your way up the stairs and into your bathroom to wash off and get ready to sleep.
All this alone time gave you time to think about the plans, and the more you thought, the more you doubted this person named Sapnap. You were told he had some kind of fire ability, and seeing as most of your kingdom was set on fire, you didn’t think he was very trustworthy. No matter how far away this place was, he was still suspicious to you. I mean, what were you supposed to think when you got to a random location and on the first day upon arrival you were told that there was someone here with a fire ability? Were you just supposed to trust this stranger immediately, just like that? You didn’t like that thought at all, but you trusted Ranboo and Phil enough already that you figured you should give this Sapnap guy a chance.
And with those last few thoughts, you finished settling in to sleep, finally in a proper bed after three long days. The thick blanket and the flickering light of the last embers in the hearth helped you to drift off to sleep. You made a mental note to write in your journal when you wake up, since you were exhausted and could barely keep your eyes open.
Hot. Burning. Loud crashing. Your eyes snapped open and you were finally aware of your surroundings. Your kingdom around you, burning to the ground, craters dotted the ground. You were surrounded by fire. You screamed out in pain and searched for a safe way out. Why was this happening? No. You knew the answer, you just had to remember. Right? Right! Dreams. You could solve things using your dreams, being thrown back into the middle of situations to see what went wrong. To look over missed details. The only downside was the fact that all your senses still worked. It was like time travelling but without all the paradoxical consequences. Essentially just to play detective.
You ran through the blaze, trying to find a safe path while also looking for clues. There was nothing but destruction, burnt remains, and the smell of burning wood. You finally made it to a clearing where the plaza in front of the castle was, and there in the distance between all the red flames and black smoke, there was a flash of color. It was fast, so you almost missed it, but it was there. Who was that? With that thought alone, you were sprinting in the same direction, not caring about the flames that would kiss your skin or the ember covered logs that would catch your legs. You needed this lead, no matter what kind of pain you went through.
You spent what felt like hours running around. Your legs felt like they were being torn apart, your skin was burning and blistered in a lot of spots, and it was getting too hard to breathe. There was no sign of the green that you saw earlier, so you gave into your body and fell to the brick walkway under you, the rough texture stinging your skin. You closed your eyes, breathing heavily, hoping you would wake up soon. Then you heard it. The sound of feet on the pavement ahead of where you laid. Your body hurt as you lifted your head, vision going fuzzy and dark as the person neared. Green.
#dream#dream x reader#dream smp#dsmp#mcyt#ranboo#philza#technoblade#wilbur soot#lore#angst#x reader#reader insert#OC#OOC#AU#roleplay#fanfiction#fanfic#dsmp fanfic#dreamXD#c!dream#dream lore#prison break
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what is wrong with me..
authors note: i want to talk about how cute he is. but honestly i want to write something kind of angsty cause why not :p also i kinda wrote this all in one go without reading over it :??
synopsis: shoto todoroki knew for a fact that he was sick, his stomach felt funny when looking at you, being near you or even hearing your name. he would do anything to avoid you even if it meant being harsh and blunt, until you confront him about how he has been acting
warnings: angst with a fluffy ending :)
word count: 1.6k words
todoroki shoto x reader
“hey todoroki is something wrong?” midoriya asked. at this point the the split haired boy stared at you, well it was more like he was glaring at you. the unfamiliar feeling in the pit of the stomach growing the longer he stared. “they make me feel sick midoriya. i can’t help but feel like they’re hexing me or something, my stomach feels all funny just by being around them.” todoroki explained in a monotone voice, he didn’t know how to feel about you, ever since the USJ attack he just couldn’t see you as a friend or acquaintance; you were different. and as he stared iida trying to get him to stop staring “todoroki it is very rude to stare please respect people even from a distance,”
“he’s glaring at you again, y/n..” you sat up a little straighter as toru pointed out the pair of eyes drilling holes in the back of your head. the only people who knew that y/n had a crush on todoroki was toru and jirou. you knew that you had no chance with momo being in your class, you never hated her she was everything that you wished you could be: rich, smart and nonetheless beautiful and most of all she was liked by todoroki. you sighed with a tinge of hurt, “i just don’t know what i did wrong to make him hate me so much,” you balled your hands into fists as you prayed the bell to ring to end the lunch period.
the final class of the day finally came and it was time to go back to the dorms. as the students flooded back into the their respected buildings, as the students of class 1-A dragged their feet a pink student skips towards the front of the students, “GUYS LETS HAVE A MOVIE NIGHT!!” the class looked around to see if the others were willing to go up to the offer. “guys i think it would be a fun idea to destress.” and all of them started to agree.
they all changed out of their uniform to the comfortable clothing to their liking as they all piled in the common room one by one. “hey kaminari thanks for bringing your tv down here for this,” mina laughed to lift the air a little bit before the movie started. “yeah no problem, thanks for letting me choose the movie,” denki laughed, ‘i hope the guys don’t make fun of me for choosing this movie.’
you finally walk in late with the common room while laughing with kirishima, “okay listen i am 100% certain that fat gum watches shoujo anime,” the red head started to rant and to todoroki’s demise, the same feeling in his stomach but now a new one appeared; wrath towards his shark toothed classmate for making you laugh, in fact the fact that you laughed made him even more angry. “no way eiji i know for a fact he watches slice of life,” and as you responded, todoroki’s emotions stirred.
“OI PIKABRAT WHY ARE WE WATCHING MEAN GIRLS” bakugou’s anger clearly made everyone excited and the female classmates defended the film. as you were looking for a place to sit down, you were scanning the options and the spot on the couch that had a decent view was next to the one person who had an issue with you. ‘shoot i really want to watch the movie but i don’t want to make him hate me even more,’ your thoughts conflicted with your emotions for every inch of your body really wanted to sit next to him and just be within his presence. “hey todo-” “midoriya can we switch spots,” you got cut off by his monotonous voice but he looked straight at you, “i feel sick.”
a sudden wave of emotions overcame you then and there. the person that you longed to be around, the person that motivated you to do better said that you made him feel sick. “hey y/n here sit next to me,” toru nagged you to sit next to her and tsu on the ground, “you want to stay at my dorm and talk for a while?” the invisible girl beside you asked and you complied and turned away to face the screen. as your conversation was going on todoroki looked down at you, ‘why does my heart suddenly feel heavy? is it their doing?’ his eyes were no longer on the screen but on you.
as the weeks flew by with great speed, the days came faster than expected; but as they passed todoroki got ruder with every encounter. “why must i remain in a conversation i have no interest in conversation.” “i have better things to indulge in.” “get out of my way i have more important matters to deal with at the moment.” to make it so much worse, him an momo got even closer.
you had enough.
it was the weekend and no one had anything to do. you were going back down to the kitchen to refill your water bottle, you finally reached the kitchen and opened your bottle. stepping in the kitchen you see a familiar person, your mouth was tempted to speak but in the end you just walked past him and turning your back to him to get your water, “why didn’t you tell me you were in here, are you here to trick me or even hex me even further?” a voice broke through the silence.
“... why?” your voice was shaking, not out of fear; but rather from anger. you were fed up with his attitude, you were fed up by not being treated like a regular human being, you were fed up by him. “why must you act like a royal douche?!” you yelled at him with utmost certainty and volume. taking a step towards him, the boy stepped back in retaliation. “do you have some sort of superiority complex to act like this towards me?” todoroki’s back soon hit the wall.
no one has ever seen you this furious, you always were very calm and collected. seeing you mad made his blood run cold, in pure intimidation. “is this funny to you?” you grabbed his collar to make him look you dead in the eye, ”do you seek some sick entertainment in hating me? when i haven’t done anything wrong.” tears were threatening to roll down your cheek. todoroki’s eyes opened wider, he felt sad, he felt mad for making you think hated you. he found that your statement was the opposite of how he felt. “do you just have some sort of issue with me that bothers you that much? then fine. to resolve that let me spell it out for you too since you don’t bother to do so.”
“i. hate. you. too.”
you emphasized every word. ‘i need to end my pain, i can’t have him continue to walk over me and hurt my feelings any longer’ you let your grip on his clothes loosen. taking a break from your emotional exhaustion you breathed out aggressively and turned away, indicating that the conversation was over, and so was your tolerance of him. you picked up your water bottle even without water in it you just wanted to get out of the kitchen, no you wanted to be out of his sight.
as soon as you took one step forward you felt stiff arms wrap around your waist, you froze as he locked your shoulder in place by placing his chin onto it, his warmth was pleasant and you wished it didn’t feel as good. “please.” his breath fanned past your ear, “i don’t hate you-” you needed to stop this madness. “oh please shut up already! do you know what you said? i make you sick,” your thoughts ended spilling faster than you expected and as you spoke you pushed your elbow into his body, but to no avail his grip tightened. “my mere presence pisses you off doesn’t it? now let me go already, you can do this with momo since she is obviously your girlfriend so bother her instead.” you couldn’t stop yourself from crying, from all the things you felt inside crying just was the simplest way of expressing it at the given moment. with the weight of the moment todoroki just sunk his head into your neck and began to speak, “i.. just get this feeling in my stomach when i’m around you, and i get feelings of anger seeing you with others, seeing others making you happy while i’m making you feel like this. i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry y/n.”
“so please, don’t say things that aren’t true. in full honesty i thought you hexed me into feeling like this, but aizawa told me this was completely normal ‘for boys my age’ and midoriya said something about a ‘crush’ and i wish you feel the same way you know? this confession thing is really hard when the person you have feelings for thinks your dating someone else.. so please. can you let me court you?” todoroki loosened his grip and gently guided your body to face him however the moment you were about to speak a bunch of voices came from the outside of the kitchen.
“toru stop pushing me i know you’re there,” “momo i can’t see go to the back,” “mina keep your voice down please i’m trying to listen to them.” “guys isn’t it wrong to listen when they need privacy?”
“well hello there ladies? mind telling us why you were listening to me admitting my doting feelings for y/n?” “shut up shoto don’t push it-” “did you just call me by my first name? how bold,” “hmph”
#bnha#mha#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha imagines#bnha imagines#bnha todoroki#mha todoroki#shoto x reader#todoroki x reader#shoto imagines#todoroki imagines#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki imagines#todoroki scenarios#bnha scenarios#mha scenarios#bnha fics#mha fics#bnha shoto scenarios#bnha drabbles#mha drabbles#todoroki drabbles#shoto drabbles#bnha fluf#bnha angst#mha fluff#mha angst
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prompt fill 8/80 - #39 - You don’t have a choice in this matter. ft. The Stranger/Newcomer, Jinnen, Agammen, and Reverend Rousseau Paschal
i love the ‘priest has a demon baby’ mpreg trope so of course i wanna try my hand at it finally lmao. Reverend Paschal’s gonna end up w 4 demon babies in the stories i have planned for him ;^) but have this thing fleshing out the setting/background first lmao
The High Court: Choices
“You don’t have a choice in this matter,” the Stranger said to the two children in front of him. “I don’t have a choice, either. I’m not like the two of you, who have avatars. I’m a vessel for the one you wish to speak to.”
The older child, who held onto his infant brother, shifted on his feet and asked, “M-may we speak to her, then? It’s important that we persuade her to keep her silence.”
“She doesn’t want to listen.”
The baby made an unhappy sound and tugged on his brother’s shirt collar. The Stranger couldn’t hear what was being said, but based on the way the older child wilted and glanced away, he guessed the boy was being scolded or yelled at telepathically, as he then spoke for the infant. “Agammen s-says that She of the Red must listen to us, er, him, because he outranks her according to the Lord Ruler’s Court.”
The Stranger sighed and crossed his arms. “It is as I said, Lord of the Final Ruling, High Judge Agammen, I cannot do anything about it. I am just a vessel. I cannot open her eye and make her aware of these things.”
He couldn’t really tell how the Court Judge reacted, being as his avatar was a swaddled infant held tightly by a young boy. But the way the baby squirmed beneath his blankets was a definite sign the demon lord wasn’t pleased.
“Scribe of the Lord Ruler, Heir Jinnen,” the Stranger asked the boy, “-what are your thoughts, before your mortal father comes to retrieve you?”
Jinnen’s pale eyes widened and he began to tremble. He flinched as the High Judge scolded him again and then stammered, “It is not my place to have an opinion on such a matter, Vessel of the High Lady of the Proceeding, She of the Red. I defer to the wisdom of High Judge Agammen.”
“Certainly you must enjoy this life as a reverend’s son. I understand why you and the High Judge do not want to inform the clergy of their misconception. I do not want to inform them, either. I enjoy my life, even if who I serve as a vessel for wishes to return to the Lord Ruler’s Court.”
Jinnen straightened, gasping. He took a step back and whispered, “That can’t be! The Lord Ruler insisted that all who chose to undergo the ritual was to only return upon completing their mortal life or if they are called back.”
The Stranger knew that. He shrugged. There was nothing the three of them could do unless the demon who was forced to use him as a vessel was ever willing to listen. And the Stranger doubted it. She of the Red was stubborn and resentful. She was angry at the demon court for convincing her she should be the first one to try to take a human avatar, for them to allow her to remain trapped in an imperfect vessel.
Instead of being like the children, demon royals reborn into human flesh, she was trapped in a body with the original occupant still inside.
From what he’d learned, he wasn’t surprised it went horribly wrong. Why they thought it a good idea to put a High Lady into a body that was already a teenager, he couldn’t understand. He hadn’t fought it when it happened. It was simply the way of things- he’d been taught to respect and fear the higher powers, so when one had come to take over his body, he’d stepped back in his mind. Only to end up sharing his body with the demoness, her eye replacing his right.
They’d finally figured it out once it got to the Scribe and High Judge, it seemed. He wasn’t sure why the ruler of the demons had decided to send his own heir into a mortal body, even though She of the Red had said in many rants that it should have been Jinnen stuck sharing a body with a mere mortal. Surely what was essentially the Court’s prince should have been kept out of the mortal realm, even if the demoness had called Jinnen spineless and pathetic and unworthy of the honor of being a member of the High Court.
Jinnen and Agammen had been completely reborn as mortals, being born through a willing parent that had answered a call from the Lord Ruler. Their human father had no idea the children he’d given birth to were actually demons in mortal avatars. He and the rest of the church clergy and town believed the two were half-demons.
After an incident, they also believed the same of the Stranger.
Which was going to change, if the High Lady went through with her plan to try to escape his body and return home.
The Stranger really hoped the demoness would change her mind. He had a feeling it wouldn’t go over very well with the clergy, to know that their gods had kept such secrets from them. And he didn’t want to disrupt the life and happiness of the children’s human father. Reverend Paschal loved his sons dearly and was expecting another if the ill fit of his cassock was anything to go by. Certainly, he would be upset to know that his sons weren’t really children, but two of the ageless demon lords his church worshipped that had just used him in order to take an avatar form.
Rocking on his heels and glancing around, Jinnen whimpered and asked his brother, “What do we do? This isn’t good… How are we supposed to live as mortals do if Papa knows what we really are? The Lord Ruler won’t be pleased…” His brother must have responded because Jinnen grew frantic. “Surely we can’t just do nothing! And what of Lord Sen, when he arrives? Will he not even get a chance to do as the Lord Ruler asked?”
He probably should have tried to calm the Scribe, but the Stranger was too surprised. “The High Judge wants to do nothing?”
“He says you’re right, we’re truly helpless to the High Lady’s treachery… Oh, I hope things end up okay…”
Their conversation came to an end when the Stranger spotted Reverend Paschal headed their way. He was definitely expecting another avatar-child. The Stranger didn’t often see him, but now the once ill fit of his cassock was replaced by a large mass straining against the new and bigger robe he had. Reverend Paschal’s gait was not quite a waddle, but it was clear he was adjusting to being heavily pregnant.
He was puffing a bit as he approached them, his hands on his belly. “Oh, there you boys are! I asked you both to stay close to the church while I spoke with Bishop Achard.”
“Sorry, Papa… I didn’t mean to wander so far down the road,” Jinnen said quietly, hanging his head.
Reverend Paschal smiled and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s alright. Just try to stay closer, next time. I can’t chase after you so well now, with the new little one on the way.”
Jinnen promised and shuffled closer to his father. Satisfied with his son’s agreement, Reverend Paschal turned to the Stranger. “Ah, hello, Newcomer. How are you today? I didn’t see you at mass this morning.”
Hoping desperately that the demoness in his body wouldn’t take control to spill everything to the Reverend, he maintained his composure and answered, “I had to fix my wagon wheel before coming into town. It took longer than I expected.”
“Oh! Well, I thank you for keeping my sons entertained and in one place while I was busy. I was worried I’d have to walk all over town to find them.” Reverend Paschal laughed. “I hope they weren’t a bother.”
“Not at all. I was just stopping for a bit on my way to the square. They’re sweet boys. You’re doing well raising them.”
The Reverend smiled brightly and the Stranger really hoped things would turn out alright. He didn’t want to see this man heartbroken. “I hope you do well selling your produce today! It was nice speaking with you, Newcomer. We’ll be headed home and let you get to the square, then.” He held out his arms to Jinnen and started to lean towards him. “I’ll take your brother now, son.”
“O-okay!” In his haste to make up for disobeying his father, Jinnen quickly held up Agammen. Reverend Paschal made a sound of surprise but didn't get out a warning in time. With Jinnen’s weak arms and all of Agammen wrapped up in a blanket that made him rather slippery, the infant immediately tipped out of his brother’s hands.
The Stranger stepped forward and scooped up the baby before he could be dropped.
The baby immediately began to wail, squirming in his arms. In his head, the Stranger heard a furious voice snarl at him, “I didn’t give you permission to touch me, Vessel! Hand me over right now!”
With that voice yelling at him all the time, the Stranger could see why Jinnen was so high-strung.
“Agammen!” Reverend Paschal gasped. The Stranger handed over the baby carefully to his father, who worriedly checked him over. Agammen settled down once he was in his father’s arms. “By grace- It’s alright, little one… You’re alright. Goodness, my heart is racing. Shh, it’s okay, Agammen, it’s okay…”
“I- I’m sorry, papa, I…” Jinnen whimpered, eyes filling with tears. “I didn’t mean to drop him.”
“It's alright, son. We’ll just be more careful from now on. Your brother is okay.” Jinnen latched onto his father's leg, burying his face against the length of his cassock.
The poor Reverend looked quite ruffled. He adjusted his baby and then earnestly said to the Stranger, “Thank you so much for catching my little one! Bless you.”
“I'm glad I could help.”
Agammen whined and his little arm poked out of his blankets, waving down at Jinnen. Reverend Paschal smiled and said to his older son, “Look, Jin! Agammen isn’t upset with you either. He misses you already.”
Jinnen mumbled something incomprehensible, and the Stranger thought that the baby didn’t miss his brother at all, rather, the High Judge was probably trying to grab the Heir so he could scream at him telepathically for almost dropping him.
“Come on and let go so I can hold your hand, Jinnen. Let’s head home now. We’ve kept the Newcomer from his work for long enough.” Jinnen reluctantly detached himself from his father’s leg so he could take his hand.
The Stranger almost offered to take them home on his wagon but decided against it. It would be difficult for the Reverend to get on and off of the front of the wagon, and the Stranger didn’t want to have to lift the children onto it either. He doubted either of them would enjoy being held by him.
So he bid them goodbye and headed to his wagon, stopping to pat the muzzles of his two horses. Then, he climbed onto his wagon and took the reins in his hand.
Before he could tell the horses to start walking, the Reverend called to him, “Ah, Newcomer!”
He lowered the reins and looked over at the little family. “Yes, Reverend?” He felt hazy and brought a hand to his face, feeling that his right eye had opened slightly. His hand dropped down without him wanting to.
“You’ve been attending church for a few months now, and have established your farm, but no one knows your name. I know you said you don’t have one, but is there anything you would like to be called besides Stranger or Newcomer?”
The Stranger tilted his head. “No. It is as I told the doctor and bishop. I have no name and no need for one. Stranger and Newcomer suit me just fine.”
“Ah… alright, then.” Jinnen tugged on his father’s arm, and the Reverend chuckled. “Alright, now we’ll head home.”
He waited until the Reverend and his sons were finally on their way before he flicked the reins and called for the horses to pull the wagon. As they rode towards the square, his right eye opened. The Stranger braced himself to lose control, but he kept a firm hold of the reins and his left eye stayed open instead of being forced shut.
“I can see why the Lord Ruler has chosen that silly little Reverend as a concubine,” the demoness said to the Stranger, using his voice. “He’s ridiculous, oblivious. He’ll do whatever he’s told.”
When his mouth wasn’t clamped shut as he went to respond, the Stranger replied, “Reverend Rousseau Paschal is a nice man. His children like him.”
“Of course that fool Jinnen likes him. That pathetic whelp would sit at the heel of any that showed him the barest scraps of affection. He must be ecstatic that he has a human parent to love him unconditionally.”
“And High Judge Agammen?”
“A short-sighted fool desperate for power. He’ll only stick around for as long as his avatar body demands it, and I’ve no doubt he’ll drag along that poor excuse of a prince with him, and whatever low-ranking idiot volunteers to be shoved out of that mortal’s body with Agammen pulling the strings.”
“The Scribe-Heir said Lord Sen is next.”
She laughed. “Oh, Agammen must be furious! Sen is his equal, the High Executioner, Lord of the Will. Jinnen won’t be following him after all. If Agammen demands his service, and Sen demands it as well, he’ll stay with the clergy of this town to worship the Lord Ruler, just to stay with that mortal mother that loves him so.”
Not wanting to lose control while holding the reins of horses, he didn’t ask her to reconsider her plan. If she grew upset with him, then he would lose his ‘body privileges,’ as she called it.
“I wonder what will happen, then, before the High Judge and High Executioner are old enough to demand Heir Jinnen follow them. Will they fight over his allegiance?”
“Agammen and Sen lowering themselves to fighting over the scribe prince of all people… that’ll be a sight to behold.”
The Stranger slowed the horses as he thought of something. “Lord Sen consumes memories, does he not?”
His left eye narrowed, and he knew she wasn’t pleased with the question. Not after the years she’d spent educating him on the High Court. “Yes, he does. Why do you ask, vessel of mine?”
“You said because of his extensive memories, the Lord Ruler often consults with him, as do the court magicians. Would Lord Sen know of a way to help you or a way to consult with the Lord Ruler from this realm?”
“...He might. I didn’t think of that. Agammen wouldn’t know how to do such a thing, and the Lord Ruler never wants to speak with his pathetic little heir. But Sen is a close friend of his… and Sen has many messengers devoted to him. Surely they would have feared for him and taught him how a human might consult them. In turn, they could seek an audience with the Lord Ruler.”
He’d solved it, somehow. At least until after the Reverend gave birth again. That was bound to take a few months, and presumably, he wouldn’t be bringing his newborn out and about in the colder months. That would give them all more time, in case Lord Sen didn’t know how to help.
And though the demoness couldn’t read his thoughts, she knew him well enough to guess at what he was thinking. “You’re not to discuss any of this with those two fools. They’re the ones that suggested I be trapped in this body. Let them wallow in their fear.”
“Yes, High Lady.” His right eye closed and he had the horses resume their pace.
Sighing, the Stranger was relieved. He didn’t have to worry about dying, not for a good few months. And with the High Lady satisfied, his life was sure to be more peaceful. Her rants were bound to lessen, and he wouldn’t have to worry about tasks on his farm going incomplete or being done incorrectly.
He decided he’d stop by the Reverend’s house to drop off some of his crops and a bit of meat and eggs. In order to give himself good time and make sure the Reverend’s pregnancy went well, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure Reverend Paschal was eating well. A healthy diet would help him carry to term and give him strength for the birth, and if his children were also well-fed, that would get rid of some stress from the Reverend’s life, especially as it got colder in the coming autumn.
And of course, he’d drop off some of his produce at the church for the rest of the clergy. It wouldn’t do to be playing favorites, and he did feel that he owed the Bishop for saving his life a few weeks earlier. The doctor and his family could have some as well. If the doctor’s daughters came to him in the square, he’d pack some extras in with whatever they purchased.
-
Jinnen wanted to run to his bed to hide in his blankets until he could calm down, but he used all his will to keep himself from showing how frightened he was and stayed by his father’s side as they entered their home. He looked around for some other way he could try to relax and saw some loose pieces of parchment and an inkwell on a desk. Writing or drawing always helped to calm him down. But he had to ask permission first, something he struggled with.
In the Court, he spent all of his time writing, using as much parchment and ink as he wanted, whenever he wanted.
As a human, ink and parchment were expensive, and his father wanted him to use them for learning only. He didn’t mind only being able to copy down scriptures and spiritual texts, since he needed to learn human writing, but he wished he didn’t have to ask.
He took off his shoes and jacket at the doorway and turned to his father to ask if he could practice writing. Before he could ask, though, his father said, “Jinnen, would you help me start dinner? I know it’s early, but I’m quite hungry after all that walking.”
“O-okay, Papa.”
“I’ll go set your brother in his cradle. Can you get some vegetables from the garden, please?”
He got only a couple of vegetables and a small handful of herbs, figuring his father was just going to slice them and cook them in a pan so they could eat quickly. Jinnen brought them to the kitchen and set them on the table, then went to see where his father was. He found the man in his bedroom. He’d removed his cassock and hung it up. Agammen was in his cradle, unswaddled and holding onto a toy.
His father had one hand on the wall, leaning against it while his other hand was on his back. He didn’t look well, a frown on his face, hunched over.
“Papa? Are you okay?”
His father immediately straightened up, giving him a big smile. “I’m alright, son. My back just hurts, that’s all.” He came over and gave him a pat on the head. Jinnen missed when he was able to get picked up. It was nice, being a child again, especially to Reverend Paschal.
Even if he had to share him. He glanced at Agammen. The other demon was trying to glare at him, but with his pudgy baby face, it wasn’t threatening at all.
“Let’s go make dinner!” His father took his hand and led him to the kitchen. As they walked, Jinnen thought it was more than just an aching back that was bothering his father. He looked far too tired, and tugged at the suspenders he wore over his clerical shirt. But he was too young to be asking about it and didn’t know what he’d do to help anyway. His father had managed with him and Agammen. Surely he wouldn’t have too much trouble with this new baby.
Jinnen couldn’t remember if his father had been so bothered when he was carrying Agammen. He hadn’t really paid attention. Walking around and doing his duties as a clergyman hadn’t been so difficult for him until much later in his pregnancy. It was much too early for things to be getting hard. He was only six months along.
Though the man’s belly seemed bigger than it should have been. He hadn’t been so large at this stage with Agammen.
Sure, Sen was physically on the large size for a demon, but Jinnen didn’t think their original forms really had any effect on their human avatar size. Agammen was much larger than he was, and he fit fine into all of Jinnen’s old baby clothes, even if the townsfolk sometimes remarked that Agammen was chubbier than Jinnen had been and even chubbier than most of the other babies in town.
He didn’t think their father was eating much more than he had either, but maybe he was just gaining more weight than he did before. After all, he hadn’t had much time to lose any of the weight he’d gained while carrying Agammen before he’d been called on by the Lord Ruler to carry Sen.
The demon prince supposed this meant he would have to step up to help his father more often instead of writing. He liked to help, but… he just didn’t like to help with Agammen. It was hard to hide that the other demon was constantly screaming at him. In the Court, it hadn’t been so bad, since there had been so many others to bear the brunt end of the High Judge’s temper, but now that he was the only one Agammen could talk to, it made life harder. Even if he tried very hard to do well as an older brother, he didn’t think Agammen would calm down in his rage until he was no longer stuck as an infant.
He hoped that Sen would be easier than Agammen to handle once he was born. At least then, Agammen would have someone else to shout at. Jinnen was certain that the High Judge hated the Executioner far more than he disliked the Heir.
Provided the High Lady didn’t ruin everything for them. Then it wouldn’t matter what would happen with Sen. He was certain the clergy would take them away from Reverend Paschal. Then they would fail in their mission to exist as mortals and would be revered as members of the High Court. Though Agammen was sure to enjoy it if they didn’t get in trouble with the Lord Ruler, Jinnen didn’t want that at all. He hated being the Scribe and Heir, even if he loved to write. It was so much better to exist as a human child, without so many expectations and so many superiors to see him as a failure.
“You look deep in thought, Jin!”
“Ah… Um… Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
“I promise I’ll be okay. I know I’ll feel much better once we sit and eat! I’ve been on my feet all day, that’s all.”
Jinnen didn’t relax until his human father looked better. Indeed, sitting and eating had perked him up, just as he’d promised. Jinnen was relieved. He ate the rest of his meal of pan-roasted vegetables and a warmed-up biscuit with butter from the day before, and went to ask if now he could write.
Agammen wailing cut him off before he could even open his mouth.
“Your brother must be hungry! I’ll get him.” His father went to get up. “Oof… Goodness, these chairs are low.”
Despite knowing that he was going to get yelled at, Jinnen offered to go get the baby and hurried off.
“Hello, Agammen.” He lifted up the other demon.
Immediately, he was screeched at, “What was that stunt you tried to pull earlier?! If you get me killed and I’m sent home early, I will break free and hunt you down, you-”
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to drop you, I promise,” he whispered.
“Why are you here? I’m hungry, I don’t want to see you, you little worm! You can’t feed me, you can’t do anything! Let me go! Put me down! You will obey me, you worthless prince-”
Agammen tried to grab at him. Jinnen was thankful that babies didn’t have too much pinching strength in their hands, and that their father kept Agammen in little onesies that covered his hands so he couldn’t use his nails to scratch him.
He held the baby firmly despite how much he was screaming, both telepathically and out loud, and squirming and brought him back to their father. Agammen stopped wailing once he was handed over and quieted so he could start nursing.
“Poor thing, you get so upset when you’re hungry,” their father soothed. “There’s no need to be upset, little one… Papa’s here, don’t work yourself up so much. I don’t want you to get a fever.”
Jinnen covered his mouth to keep from laughing. Agammen finally having a consequence for his anger was too good. He couldn’t wait to throw that at him the next time he flew into a rage over something. It would be even more trying for Agammen, existing in his young avatar state if he were to fall ill because of his own doing.
As long as things didn’t get ruined by She of the Red. That sobered him.
He slipped off of his chair and went to his father’s side. He hugged him, careful not to touch Agammen.
“What is it, Jin? I’m not upset with you for earlier-”
Agammen kicked his forehead and snarled, “I am!”
“Careful, little one.” Their father tucked Agammen’s leg back in his arms. Then, he said to Jinnen, “Maybe tomorrow you can help me do some chores around the church. I’ll get a sling and you can carry your brother around. Won’t that be nice?”
A whole day with Agammen pressed against his back. Not even the threat of fever would keep the High Judge’s temper under control. He suppressed a shudder. Maybe he could pretend that he was tired after a while and let one of the other clergymen hold onto Agammen. Then he could enjoy actually helping his father do chores.
“Okay, Papa. It sounds fun.”
“Good boy. Why don’t you practice writing for a while? You know how your brother takes forever to eat. Then I can read to you.”
#mpreg#male pregnancy#i am drawing paschal and his kids + the Stranger so u guys can see them soon#Reverend Rousseau Paschal (The High Court)#Jinnen (The High Court)#Agammen (The High Court)#The Stranger/Newcomer (The High Court)#The High Court - story tag#original#oblio's fics
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If I Never Knew You Pt.5
Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6
Warnings: 18+, angst, secret relationship plot, kinda royal au, arranged marriage plot, fighting
a/n: Hope everyone is doing well. Here is the second to last part. I’m going to upload the final part right after I upload this one. Just so y’all aren’t waiting for the resolve :)
Word count: 1.7K
Loki x female!reader
Feeling the pebbles roll under your feet, you felt your legs begin to shake with anticipation and dread. The panic that you were holding off while with Loki was beginning to come back and you wanted to turn and run the other way. You knew you needed to do this and finally come clean to your parents but the idea was just so awful you wanted to run and hide away forever.
Before you knew it you were standing out front of your childhood home feeling a bubble of unease build in your throat. Breathing deep and exhaling hard, you put your hand on the doorknob and stepped inside your home. Your family once again sitting at the dining table talking amongst one another.
There was someone you didn’t recognize sitting in what was normally your seat. You felt the energy shift around you and suddenly you felt something worse than panic settle in your gut.
“Y/N, there you are! We were so worried when you didn’t come home last night. You haven’t done that in a while. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Your mother rose from her chair, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. Your father looked at you with disdain on his features, obviously trying to figure out where you were in the night.
“Glad to know you’re alright, Y/N. Come sit down and meet who we think might be a perfect suitor for you.”
Your heart sank to your stomach. You felt your face get hot and your emotions were mixing with intense anger and despondency. You didn’t want to have to fake interaction with someone you knew nothing about let alone didn’t care learning about. It would be adulterous to Loki and you couldn’t bear the thought of engaging in such horror. You found your courage and finally decided to put your foot down in this situation.
“Actually, that is what I was coming to talk to you guys about. I found someone. I have for over a year now.”
“What?! Y/N that’s amazing but why haven’t you told us anything.”
Your mother’s eyes lit up in curiosity wondering why you were so private with something that was causing you such trouble.
“I’ve been fearful of your reaction to whom it is I have found boundless love with.”
Your father’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion waiting for you to continue your declaration. Your mother on the other hand was just overjoyed that her dearest daughter had found somebody. You opened your mouth again before your mother cut you off,
“Well, what’s his name? I want to know everything about him!”
You sighed, the next words you had to speak feeling like lead on your tongue.
“Y-you know the all-father?”
“Y/N! Are you courting Thor??”
Your father tapped your mother’s hand in discipline,
“Let her speak and you will find out. Stop interrupting her”
You sighed again, playing with your fingers out of anxiety about what you were about to say next.
“I-it’s actually his brother. Loki.”
The air became suffocating. Loki’s name always putting a sour thought in people’s minds because of his notorious behavior. You felt the excitement in the air turn to disappointment and rotted curiosity.
“We met in one of the gardens a year ago and something about us was magnetic and drew us together. We started out with a friendship and a few months in he asked if courtship would be a viable option to further our relationship. I said yes reluctantly because I feared your responses so deeply.”
You decided to lay it out all on the table hoping that maybe it would persuade their opinion of someone that they felt so little for.
“He cares for me with such truth. I’ve never felt this with anyone before and the way that he understands me makes me feel like I have finally been found. He loves me with such ardor that I feel complete finally. All that was thought of him is something of the past. He has matured indefinitely and the feelings I have formed for him are incessant and I can’t let that go.”
Finally letting out all the extra air in your lungs you felt such a weight lifted off your chest. You still feared what their answer would be regarding their approval but they knew now. If they cared for you like they said they did they would be able to see your admiration for your current partner. And you hoped that would be enough to not have your parents strip that from you.
“Y/N...of all the people you could have chosen. That treacherous excuse for a god is where you let your feelings reside?!”
Your father’s response made you feel sick. This is exactly what you were predicting what would happen. But your mother was unusually silent. Her eyes drifted off to space on the floor and it was difficult to read what she was thinking of. Your father stood up from his chair and spoke again, his voice thick with dismay.
“Loki?! How could you let yourself stoop so low? He’s nothing but a troublemaker and you for some reason have become so weak to fall for him. Where did I go wrong wit-?”
“-Alright that’s enough, dear.”
Your mother finally spoke up and cut your father off. He looked at her incredulously and at that moment you began to feel such regret for the man that was still stuck at the table. Falling victim to the conflict between you and your parents. Your mother spoke again,
“Maybe, just maybe dear, we were wrong about him. Our daughter is not a halfwit. She has such a powerful mind and she has waited this long to find a suitor for her to make her happy. Perhaps we should give them our blessing. If she’s happy then that is all that matters. It is not our life to live.”
“No! I cannot and will not allow that dope to spoil our daughter. Let alone create a family with him. I don’t care how luxurious that tower it is you stay in with him but get your last visit in-”
“Father.-”
“This is non-negotiable. My heels have been dug-”
“Father, I may bear his child.”
The silence that fell over the room was deafening. You could hear the rise and fall of each person’s breath and it was haunting. You hadn’t yet known if this was a possibility but with the night's previous endeavors, it wasn’t a shot in the dark. It was your last-ditch effort and you were willing to do anything to keep Loki in your life.
“You what?”
Your father stepped closer to you trying to find the lie in your demeanor but it was never found.
“Dear, please do not chastise her. What is done is done. We must give the blessing now. Child out of wedlock is not something I want to be stained on our or his family's name.”
Your mother stood up and came to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you to sit down at the table. Wrapping her hands around yours she spoke with such serene.
“My Y/N. You are like an untamed bull. Your headstrong nature will catch up to you one day but with that being said. I am more than happy that you have finally found your person. If he treats you as well as you say he does then that is all I can ask from him. I can only hope to meet him soon and that he knows he is welcome in our home. The blessing you seek is already had.”
“Says who?”
Your father chimed in
“She needs both of our blessings to go through with his eloping and as far as I am concerned. I have yet to give her the go-ahead. I am not giving away my daughter to someone who has yet to show truth and consistency in something other than mischief. I will not allow it! And that’s final!”
The tears that were once falling in joy were now falling down hot in fear.
Why must he be like this? My happiness matters too.
Pointing to the man at the table your father spoke through gritted teeth and told him to get out. He had no business being there anymore anyway. And with the direction the conversation was going, it wouldn’t be fair to have him in the mix.
“As for you. You aren’t to see that man again.”
“No! Dad, wait! You can’t do this. Please, he’s the only person outside of you guys who has seen me for me! Please do not take that away from me!”
Your heart was doing backflips in your chest and it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Everything that you had built up was beginning to crumble.
“You aren’t to see him until my mind is made. I’m beyond disappointed in you and at the root of it all, I am unsure of what to think.”
“Dear if she is to be with chi-”
“I KNOW! But that doesn't mean I feel any different towards the bastard. For all I know he took advantage of her, knowing her situation and now we're stuck with the consequence.”
“Father, it’s not like that I swear!”
“Enough! You have said enough today.”
Removing your hands from your mother's, you hung your head in your hands. The tears now overflowing as you hit your breaking point.
“Your tears will not alter my decision any faster so you can give that a rest, Y/N.”
Standing up from the chair you were overcome with anger. Your voice was meek because of all the pressure built up in your throat but you made sure to make your point delivered.
“If you ever pretended to care about half as much as you say you do, all those snarky remarks you make would be void. You cannot control me forever. If you loved me outwardly half as much as you say you do, you would’ve listened to me, but you never did.”
Walking toward your bedroom you couldn’t bear to speak anymore or be in the environment of the main room. It was deadly and you needed to rest. Closing the door you flopped on your bed. Hot tears falling down your cheeks and absorbing into your hair that was splayed out underneath you. You moved up to the top of your bed and hugged your pillow, pretending it was someone else to provide you with comfort. You sniffled and your eyes became heavy and you drifted off to sleep. The energy completely stripped from you.
_______________________________________________________________________
Taglist: @mad4marvelloki @lightmelikeamatch
#loki#loki fanfic#loki imagine#loki x reader#loki laufeyson fanfic#loki laufeyson imagine#Loki Laufeyson x Reader#marvel fanfic#marvel imagine#marvel x reader
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Love Is Not Forced ~ 20
MASTERLIST
< previous chapter
Word Count: 1,900ish
Summary: Y/N spends some time in a village in Brooklyn, reminding her of times long past.
“She’s not coming, Bucky,” Steven fretted as he paced near the carriage. “I screwed up again. She wasn’t ready and I pushed her!” He ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t do anything right by her.”
“The Princess still has five minutes, punk,” Bucky responded, arms crossed as he watched his friend worry.
“Doesn’t matter. She won’t come. I screwed up, like I always do.”
“Have a little faith in her. Maybe she’s going to be late, just to keep you on your toes.”
“She already does that enough. But I definitely wouldn’t blame her for being late to prove some point.”
“I haven’t seen you this worried about trying to impress a girl since we were teenagers. It’s kind of entertaining to watch.”
“I’m so glad that my anxiety is for your entertainment.”
Bucky walked up to his friend, putting his hands on his shoulders to stop the King from pacing. “Stop worrying, Steve. Everything is going to be fine.”
“That’s what Nat said.”
“Well, I do learn from the best.”
“Am I interrupting something here?” Y/N’s voice broke them out of their conversation.
“Princess,” Steven tried not to sound too relieved, but it didn’t really work, “you came.”
“Yes,” she replied, coming closer. “I thought about how my Father would disapprove of not meeting some of your people. I met many of the people of Asgard and Wakanda, it would be rude of me to not give your people the same consideration.”
“Still, I’m glad to see you.”
“Your Highness,” Bucky bowed.
“Captain,” Y/N greeted curtly. “Will you be joining us today?”
“If that is okay with you, Princess.”
“It’s fine by me, but it also is not up to me.”
“You do have a right to say no, Y/N,” the King said.
“Do I?” Y/N asked, curious, turning to look at the King. She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Do I have the right to say no?”
“Well, I—“
“Cause if I did, in fact, have the right to say no, Your Majesty. I wouldn’t be here right now. I probably wouldn’t have let my Father take my brother or I in. And I definitely wouldn’t be parading around trying to impress men.”
“Your Highness, I didn’t mean—“
“You never mean to do anything, do you?” Y/N stared the King down for a few long seconds before continuing, “Now, are we going? Or am I going back to my room for the day?”
Y/N and Steven didn’t speak the whole way to the village. Y/N kept her focus on everything passing outside of the window, while Steven tried to do the same. But kept stealing glances at the Princess. The village the two royals stopped to visit, reminded Y/N a lot of the village she lived in prior to becoming a Princess. Children laughed as the ran around, playing. Men were working together to plant crops and build houses. The women sat together as the sewed and talked, or they were gathering the crops with each other.
As the carriage pulled up, the people ran to greet it. Bucky and the other guards that joined them, one being Pietro, kept them back so that the King and Princess could exit the carriage. The King exited one side and hurried over to the other to help the Princess out. Y/N accepted his offered hand, not wanting the people to question her actions towards their King.
Steven kept a hold of her hand as he introduced her to the crowd. The children quickly ran up to the two royals, which caught Y/N by surprise. The King bent down to greet them. He smiled as he talked with the children and listened to them speak. Y/N’s focus was pulled from the seen by a tug on her dress. She looked down to see a little girl, she couldn’t be more than seven years old, looking up at her.
“Hello,” Y/N greeted, bending down to the little girl. “My name is Y/N. What’s your name?”
“Cassandra,” the girl answered nervously. “But everyone calls me Cassie.”
“Both are very pretty names.”
“Your Highness, I am so sorry,” a dark haired woman came running up. She pulled the child towards her by the shoulders. “I told her to stay by me and to not disturb you.”
“She’s completely fine.” Y/N stood up. “I was just telling Cassie, here, how pretty her names are. Are you her mother?”
“Yes, my name is Hope.”
“Hope,” the King greeted, coming over. “It’s so good to see you and Cassie.” Steven bent down to talk to the girl. “How’ve you been Cassie? Not causing too much trouble I hope.”
“No,” Cassie giggled. “No one could cause as much trouble as my father.”
“You got that right.” Steven ruffled her hair as he stood up. “Where is Scott, anyway?”
“He said he had to finish something before he could came greet you,” Hope responded.
“Why don’t we go get him then?” Steven looked down at Cassie. “I’ll race you.”
“Okay,” Cassie grinned, already sprinting off.
“Hey! That’s not far!” Steven laughed, running after her.
“It seems that you and your family know the King quite well,” Y/N stated as her and Hope followed the two runners.
“Yes,” Hope replied. “My husband, Scott, is a friend of His Majesty. He also sometimes works for him.”
“Sometimes?”
“Scott enjoys being home more than he enjoys living at the castle and seeing us once a week.”
“What does your husband do?”
“He helps create and build new weapons. And when Captain Barnes or Lord Wilson need sometime off, Scott fills in for him.”
“If your family is high up in the King’s court, why live in this little village?”
“It’s home. We use what we need and then we help the other members of the village.”
“That’s so… that’s so kind of you.”
It amazed Y/N at how kind and humble these people were. Yet it reminded her of how she grew up. Her whole village worked together to survive. They didn’t need anyone but each other.
“Scott,” the King said as he exited the house, arm around the smaller man, “this is Y/N Stark, the Princess of Alexandria.”
“Your Highness,” Scott bowed, giving her hand a kiss. “It’s so good to meet you.”
“Likewise. Your wife was just telling me what you do to help the village. That’s so very kind of you.”
“It’s nothing. We are a family here in Brooklyn. Helping each other is what we do.”
“And your daughter—“
“That little ball of energy cheated and got here before I did,” Steve grumbled, jokingly.
“Yes, she does keep us on our toes,” Scott laughed.
“I don’t know where she could have got that from,” Hope mumbled next to the Princess.
Y/N spent the day getting to know the people of the village and watching Steven interact with all the people. She especially enjoyed watching Steven with the children. He seemed to be so interested in all the stories they told him and he was so willing to do what they asked him. It was heart-warming. She played with her necklace nervously as she watched one of the interactions. When Thor and Loki had taken her around Asgard, she had seen Thor interact with a few children but not Loki. Did he like children? Did he even ever what children? Or was King Steven just putting on a show to impress the Princess?
When it was time for the royals to head back to the castle, Y/N promised her new found friends that she would return. She let the King help her into the carriage and they both waved as they rode away. A look of longing and sadness overcame her, the further they got from the village. And the King noticed.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Steven worried. “Did you not enjoy the day?”
“I did…” she answered quietly. “It’s just… it reminded me of my life before. Before all of this.” She gestured around the carriage. “A simpler time. A time with—“
“With more freedom.”
“Yes… I am not saying that I am not grateful for the life that my Father has provided my brother and I. I just wish that sometimes things could be like that again.”
“If you wish to spend more time in the village while you’re here, you are welcome to.”
“Really?”
“You are welcome to do as you please, Princess. As I keep saying.”
“How am I suppose to split the rest of the week up between the beach and the village? It is rude to not spend time with the host.”
“How about you spend afternoons in the village, and evenings on the beach? With me?”
Y/N smiled at the King. “That could work. Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Enough of that already, Y/N. If I can call you by your first name, then you can call me by mine.”
“I’ve heard your friends call you, Steve and Steven. Which do you prefer?”
“Which ever you wish.”
The King looked at her with that look she had seen on the ship. It made her heart flutter and sink at the same time.
Upon getting ready for bed, Wanda brought in a letter from Loki.
Y/N,
The longer than I am away from you, the more my heart aches. I don’t think that I can take the separation from you much longer. The preparations for your departure are nearly complete. I’m just waiting for you to tell me that you are ready. Please respond and let me know soon.
Forever Yours,
Loki
Y/N was torn. She wanted to run away with Loki as soon as possible. But she also wanted to stay in Brooklyn a little longer. To spend more time in the village and on the beach. She also wanted to say goodbye to her family. She couldn’t just disappear on them, it wasn’t right. So the Princess began writing a letter back to her love.
Loki,
I am sorry that I am causing you pain. Trust me, when I say that our separation has not been easy on me either. I miss you, every moment of every day.
I am writing to apologize that I will have to push our plans back. I have chosen to stay in Brooklyn a little longer than originally planned. I went to this village today, and it reminded me so much of my life before I became a Princess. I cannot leave without spending more time there. Then there is also the beach. With the sand beneath my feet and the water covering them, I feel like I can finally breathe. It’s hard to explain if you have not experienced it.
I also cannot leave without saying goodbye to my family. It would break them if I left without one last hug.
Again, I am sorry to do this to you. To us. But I cannot leave yet. Please understand that I am not doing this as a punishment. For it hurts me also to be kept apart from you.
My Heart Is With You,
Y/N
next chapter >
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Come Home
Prompts: Omg ur twins series has given me the seratonin I didn’t know I needed ;-; love ur fics!!! can I request maybe a one shot where Merlin confronts hunith about his birth parents, and they have a wholesome talk about it? Also bonus points for Merlin coming to terms with the fact that uther is his father and Morgana is his half sister (everyone notices now that they share similar features) - anon
ahhhh i loved the second installment of the twin series, the ending makes me yearn for more no matter how much i reread it *prompt idea* brotherly love pleaseeee, you've built so much hype 😭 some overprotective arthur over his younger brother, maybe some asshole noble treating merlin like shit because he grew up peasant, a merlin-arthur talk about feelings and new revelations, merlin-morgana-arthur talk (maybe?) take as long as you want really, no pressure i know it'll be worth it but a bit longer third installment please 💘 - anon
I have a very simple request oh ruler of the angst town. You've been graciously filling the stomachs of the Sanders Sides fandom but the Merlin fandom requests one thing: More, please, oh good lord. Thank you - alittletoo-obsessed
SO MANY OF YOU WERE SCREAMING FOR A PART THREE SO HERE YOU GO
Read on Ao3
Warnings: none, babes.
Pairings: it's found family hours
Word Count: 4574
The twins come home.
After a long, long time, the twins come home.
For Arthur, home is that empty space just over his shoulder, always there when he turns absentmindedly to talk to someone he never thought he’d see again. Home is someone to curl up with when the nights get cold and lonely, dark hair brushing under the tip of his nose as he wraps them in his arms. Home is someone else to see what’s happening, to stand as a silent vow of I’m here, I see you, I’m with you, I’ve got you.
For Merlin, home is someone who knows he’s not crazy, who catches him when he flies too high on the wings of his magic. Home is someone who wraps firm, solid arms around him, smelling of slightly spiced fruit and afternoon sun. Home is the space the magic curls about, searching for something to hold onto like an anchor as the world spins faster, faster, faster.
They leave the hall where Uther still sits, thunderstruck on his hollow throne, back to Arthur’s chambers. They don’t part when they get inside, stumbling across the room to the bed, somewhere they can sit and look and look at each other where there is no one else can see. Arthur reaches out to run his hand through Merlin’s hair.
“I always thought your hair would be dark,” he mumbles, losing himself in the way his fingers card through the strands. “Just had a feeling.”
“Mum’s hair was never dark enough to be mine.” Merlin closes his eyes as he feels Arthur’s hand go through it. “And—and Balinor, he—he wasn’t the right magic.”
Arthur’s hand stills. “Balinor was your father?”
“He was married to Hunith, he—but—“
Arthur’s arms are suddenly around him, warm and perfect and real and it feels like something else slots into place. Arthur’s breath warms the top of his head and Merlin feels his fingertips start to buzz.
“I’m sorry,” he realizes Arthur’s saying, “I didn’t—if I’d’ve known, I would’ve—“
They will come to find that they don’t need words. Merlin just buries his nose in the crook of Arthur’s neck and breathes in the smell of home.
“I kept the blanket I was taken in,” he mumbles, “and it smelled like this.”
“Like—like me?”
Merlin nods. “Fruit. Sunlight. Warm.”
“Warm doesn’t have a smell, Merlin.”
“Sure it does.”
“What does it smell like, then?”
“Warm! You don’t explain what apples smell like, they just smell like apple.”
“Sure you can, they smell tart, a little sweet, but it’s a thin smell, it’s not rich.”
“Where and why do you know how to describe smells so well?”
“Morgana went through an alchemy phase, dragged me into being her test subject.”
Merlin snorts, nuzzling deeper into Arthur’s warmth. “I imagine you reeked of an awful assortment of perfumes.”
“Oh, it was an excellent way to get out of court duty.”
They laugh together. Then Merlin quiets, burying his nose in the smell of home and willing his magic to help him come up with something.
“…it’s barely noticeable,” he says quietly, “but it’s…it’s there. It’s slightly, um, it smells a bit like old leather, or old wood, but it’s…it’s earthier.”
Arthur’s quiet for a moment, then Merlin feels his head turn and bury into Merlin’s hair.
“I always thought you’d be colder.” His arms tighten slightly, as if he can feel how Merlin’s magic is trying to pull him closer—and hey, maybe he can. “I—you used to get really strong on winter nights. I used to imagine that you’d—you’d be cold and it was my job to keep you warm and if you were warm, you’d—you’d stay.”
“I’ll stay,” Merlin says immediately, “I’ll stay.”
“You’d better.”
For Arthur, it’s finally seeing that figure sprinting ahead of him, goading him to chase faster and faster. It’s hearing about how cruel bullies were and sternly promising that if anyone ever tries anything like that again, he’ll kick their arse. It’s hearing a mumbles admission of crying while angry and promising that he’ll never judge Merlin for crying, not when he’s here to protect him.
For Merlin, it’s his magic finally having both of them to wrap its blanket around, someone else to hold him firmly when it can’t do the job itself. It’s hearing about how lonely life as a prince can be and vowing that he’s just going to sit next to Arthur and damn all the customs. It’s hearing about the cruelty of a king that didn’t know how to be a father first and muttering that Uther would see what the bloody hell he was doing wrong.
It’s home.
——————————————
News that Uther has another son spreads like a sickness in the castle. Servants whisper that the long-lost boy has returned, that the curse of the dead queen has lifted because her son is back, that finally, finally, Uther will stop the hell-path he’s wrought upon the kingdom.
Servants whisper that the nobles won’t like this. That they’re sick of having to put up with Arthur already, that if there’s another son, they’ll have another obstacle in their path.
Some nobles are clever.
They know that if Uther has a peasant son, he’ll have to make the boy a noble or denounce him completely. Or, and this is not a very likely option, he’ll have to accept that he has one royal son and one peasant son.
Some nobles aren’t clever.
They think that if Uther has another son, it doesn’t matter.
The nobles that know the knights know that they won’t be able to get within ten feet of Merlin. Many of them don’t want to. They’re not quite sure what position Merlin holds in court, but it’s not a manservant’s. They know that the boy who came to Camelot and managed to get the prince to shut up for once is a good one. Some of them hold the opinion that if Uther is what he made his son into, he might actually listen to the boy as well.
The nobles that don’t know the knights are stupid.
One such noble decides that it doesn’t matter whether or not the boy is of royal blood, the king hasn’t claimed him, and thus he is still a peasant.
He decides, in his infinite wisdom, to humiliate the boy by dousing him with wine for forgetting to thank him for giving him an order.
Merlin has been covered with wine before, this isn’t new to him. What is new is that he has a brother that takes great pleasure in dragging the unsuspecting noble to the front of the room and publicly shaming him.
“Have you so little sense of yourself that you must stoop to the humiliation of others for your own amusement? Perhaps if you spent more time thinking of what to do with your words you wouldn’t be so intimidated by the confidence of someone else. I would be surprised to learn if you had a mind since your only defense is to sling wine all over someone’s front. You are a disgrace to everything you proclaim to be and I would be ashamed of you if you were one of my men.”
It’s not the most direct way to banish someone and strip them of their place in court, but it is one of the more entertaining.
Of course, when a noble is demoted to a knight, he ends up at the mercy of the elder knights on the training field. It’s one of the only times Gwaine shows up promptly for a training session.
Merlin mumbles that Arthur didn’t have to do that, that he’s had worse, but later in the privacy of their rooms, Arthur says that he’s making up for the years where he wasn’t there.
“And it wasn’t just for you, it was for the knights too.”
“How noble.”
——————————————
It’s in the way Arthur still tries to turn into the tower corridor that first tips Merlin off. It’s the way his hands still twitch toward an old sword hanging on the wall. It’s the way he turns to his other side, not where Merlin always stands, expecting someone to be there. It’s the way he looks at the other side of Uther’s throne, expecting there to be another one.
It’s the way Merlin knows what feels like to miss another half of yourself.
“I want to find her,” he says quietly after a long day, “she’s your sister.”
Arthur pauses, fingers faltering on the edge of a cabinet. His head bows low.
“She is, Arthur,” Merlin says, standing, “and she’s mine too.”
“I know.”
“There’s still good in her, Arthur, I know there is.”
“I know.”
“I—“ Merlin swallows. “I’m to blame for what she’s become, I’m the one who poisoned her.”
“I’m the one who drove her away from the start,” Arthur says, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “I’m not blameless either.”
There’s a pause.
Arthur glances at Merlin. “There was a time when I thought you were her. That the—the person I was missing was her.”
“She’s magic too, it makes sense.”
Arthur nods, staring into space. “But she wasn’t you. Her—I guess I didn’t know it was magic, then, but her—her magic never felt right.”
He turns to take a hunting satchel down from the hook.
“Do you know how to find her?”
“Yes,” Merlin says, “but you’re not coming.”
“What?”
Merlin holds his hands up. “She’ll try to kill you, you know it. She won’t listen to you. Not at first.”
“And she won’t try to kill you? You poisoned her!”
“I have magic. She can’t beat me.”
“Merlin.”
“I’ll be safe!”
“When have you ever been safe in your life?”
“Like you’re in any position to judge!”
The bickering continues until Merlin grabs Arthur’s arm and tells him that he needs to do this. That it has to be him, only him, that he knows how to reach Morgana in a way that Arthur can’t.
Arthur lets him go with a strict promise to be back in a fortnight, no more.
Merlin knows how to find Morgana. Arthur’s connection to magic isn’t like his, but he is born of the stuff. And so is Morgana.
There’s a tingle in Merlin’s fingertips non-stop when he’s in Camelot, his magic tugging him towards Arthur and the magic in him. But Uther’s blood flows in both of their veins, so if he focuses, he can find Morgana.
His travels lead him to a forest home, modest and slight, but secure enough that he knows he can’t just walk in. There are half a dozen places where she could be hiding nearby, half a dozen more where traps could be. So he picks his way carefully through the undergrowth and knocks on her door.
He expects to be knocked out and strung up. He doesn’t expect her to raise an eyebrow and try and bind him with a curse.
He bats the curse away without trying to hide the way his eyes glow gold.
Morgana’s eyes widen and she stumbles back. He raises his hands and weathers the spitting, the curses—just cusses, this time—of his betrayal, how dare he, and apologizes.
“You were the vessel,” he says as his only defense, “I didn’t think there was any other way.”
“And what if you told me?” She draws herself up, looking every bit the queen she was born to be. “I could’ve helped! Perhaps I would’ve taken it of my own free will, you had no right to strip me of that choice.”
“I know. And I am sorry. For all of it. For not telling you, for trying to kill you, for—for everything.”
She evaluates him cooly. “Well, I suppose that’s that, then? You want me to accept your apology and toddle back to Camelot?”
And the thing is…he can see it now.
He and Arthur don’t share that many features, but he and Morgana…
It’s the angular jaw. The way the nose slopes slightly to the right instead of the left. The way one eye is a little bit longer than the other. The dark hair, wavy but not too wavy. The slender build, the sharp shoulders.
The way their magic curls about their fingertips before the spell is cast.
Morgana seems to notice him staring and frowns, snapping her fingers in front of his face.
“Sorry,” he manages, still marveling at how he never noticed, “sorry, I just…”
“Just…what?”
His magic thrums in his hands, telling him to let it go, reach out to their sister, help her see. He obeys, opening his hand and letting the magic swirl up, into the air. Morgana’s eyes widen and she takes a step back, preparing a defensive spell of her own only for her jaw to drop as her magic touches Merlin’s.
It doesn’t feel like coming home, not like finding Arthur did, but it feels like something.
“What…how is this possible?”
“I’m your brother,” Merlin whispers, peering through the lattice of magic, “I—you’re my sister.”
At the word ‘sister,’ something in Morgana’s magic flinches. Merlin frowns, peering closer, eyes widening when he notices a dark patch, almost as if the magic is bruised from being constrained. His own magic touches it carefully, recoiling in shock.
“What is that? Morgana, what happened to you?”
She rubs her wrist absent-mindedly, her face contorting into a scowl. “The last person to call me ‘sister.’”
Merlin’s eyes widen. Morgana retracts her magic, burying it deep inside herself and taking a deep breath. When she looks at Merlin again, she looks almost like the woman Merlin met in Camelot.
“So. That means Arthur’s your brother too.”
Merlin nods. “I was…we were born of the same magic.”
“And that makes Uther your father.”
Merlin's face contorts in rage and Morgana snorts.
“Yes, that was my reaction too.”
“Balinor was my father,” Merlin says firmly, curling his hands into fists, “Uther is not.”
“But you have his blood,” Morgana says quietly, not meaning to hurt, just to inform, “and you are bound to him. Just as I am.”
Now it is Merlin that has to look desperately at Morgana, hoping for it to be anything other than the truth.
“You can’t have Arthur without Uther, Merlin,” she murmurs, “you have to accept that. You can’t have Arthur without Camelot. You can’t have your brother without your father.”
“And what about my sister?”
Her smile is sad. “I had neither for a long time.”
“I just got my sister,” Merlin says firmly, “I’m not letting her go again.”
“Oh, and that’s your decision, is it?”
Merlin blinks. “Um—well, I mean—if—if that’s okay with you—“
Her laugh is high, like pealing bells, and it makes him smile to hear it. “How you manage to switch between those two will always astound me. No wonder no one else ever figured out you had magic.”
“Excuse you, I did a perfectly good job at hiding my magic.”
“Gaius used to scream about it with the door open, Merlin, that’s not exactly subtle.”
“How is that my fault?”
She giggles and oh, is this what it’s like to have a sister?
Their laughter ends and Morgana crosses her arms, head bowed as she thinks. Merlin lets his magic flutter around the room, cleaning up, until she raises her head again.
“Do you think Uther can change?”
Merlin sighs. “I don’t know. But I do know we can change the minds of everyone else.”
“Starting with Arthur, I presume?”
“Arthur. The knights. Most of the council. The servants.”
“Got a plan for this, do you?”
“…not really good at plans.”
“Well, no, not if most of them involve poisoning sisters.”
“Hey!”
Morgana laughs again, then her smile softens and she rushes forward to wrap her arms around Merlin.
“Your magic feels warm,” she mumbles, “not like Morgause’s. Maybe I’ll enjoy being your sister.”
“And Arthur’s?”
“If he can pull his head out of his arse, we’ll see.” She lets him go and walks toward the front of the house.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
“To see if we can both pull his head out of his arse, it’s so big we’ll need the two of us.”
“Right now?”
“Unless you think I should wait?” There it is. The tiniest hint of vulnerability in the way her voice wobbles at the end.
A question of whether Morgana would actually be welcomed back into Camelot, a question of whether Arthur would want her back. A question of how true this fantasy really is.
Merlin straightens. “No,” he says firmly, “let’s just hope the two of us can do it together.”
——————————————
Arthur never thought he’d see his sister again.
But the instant Morgana walks into his chambers, looking as if she’d never left, she barely has time to open her mouth to deliver a snappy remark before he’s rushing across the room and wrapping her in a hug so fierce it makes Merlin laugh.
Morgana laughs at him with some incredibly clever quip but he isn’t listening. He’s too busy hugging his sister. Who’s finally home, who’s finally here.
“…oh, alright, you big softy,” she mumbles, wrapping her arms around him too, “there. Are you happy now?”
“‘Gana.”
“Yes, that’s me. Is your head alright? Merlin, what did you do to him?”
“He’s happy to see his sister, Morgana.”
She sighs dramatically. “Oh, don’t both of you go all sappy on me.”
Arthur just pulls her closer, burying his nose in her neck. “‘Gana.”
There’s a pause. Then: “Oh, Arthur, I missed you too.”
It’s too much. He sticks out his arm and grabs Merlin’s tunic, yanking him closer. Merlin makes a noise of surprise as Arthur bundles them both into the hug. Morgana makes a slightly affronted gesture as she makes room for the two of them, pulling her hair out of the way as Arthur buries his nose between their shoulders.
“I certainly don’t remember him being this clingy, are you sure this is the same Arthur?”
“His head’s certainly big enough.”
“Well, yes, but that’s not exactly the most reliable thing to go on. He’s always been utterly obnoxious.”
“Don’t have to tell me.”
And they’re bickering like siblings and it’s right and it feels right and their magic is here now and he can feel both of them and it’s warm and it makes his chest tingle and—and—
“Oh, oh dear,” he hears Morgana murmur, “Arthur, are you—are you crying?”
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Arthur, it’s okay.”
“Come, let’s sit down, if you fall over you’ll take the two of us with you.”
“Just try and breathe, it’s okay, we’re not going anywhere.”
Arthur can’t bear to let them go. Not even for an instant. Morgana stays with him, her arms wound tightly around his neck, her fingers scratching lightly through his hair. Merlin sits at his back, his chest warm.
“Come now, you silly man,” Morgana says, trying to keep the tears out of her own voice, “there’s no use crying over this. No man is worth your tears, remember?”
“You’re not a man,” he mumbles, “you’re my sis’er.”
“He’s got a point.”
Morgana sighs. “Oh, Arthur…”
He registers how long’s been crying only when he feels his head start to ring from how stuffy his nose feels. He hooks his chin over Morgana’s shoulder.
“Go on.”
“What?”
“Go on,” he mumbles, “tease me. I know you want to.”
“…I’m not going to tease you, Arthur.”
“Really? All this material and you won’t?”
“Not today,” she murmurs, sounding a little hoarse herself, “not—not today.”
She holds him tighter.
“Not when I’ve just learned I have two brothers.”
He can live with that.
She does tease him later, when he says that he hasn’t missed her at all—a blatant lie, that, and they all know it—or that he’s always been a model of a knight. Of course, she doesn’t have to train with him alone, anymore, she has her pick of the knights. And Merlin.
Because Morgana has magic.
Merlin has magic. Is magic, if the stories are to be believed. And Morgana has always been a quick study.
So sometimes, Arthur will just…watch them. But it’s always that. Just watching.
Merlin is the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth. Morgana is a High Priestess of the Old Religion.
What is Arthur?
“You’re pouting, Princess.”
Arthur barely flinches as Gwaine plops down beside him. He does raise an eyebrow as he feels the rest of the knights sit down around him.
“I’m not pouting, Gwaine.”
“Sure you are.” He flicks Arthur’s arm. “You’re pouting.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
Arthur sighs. “And what is it you think I’m pouting over?”
“The fact that you now have to share Merlin with Morgana.”
“That’s not—“
“You’re bright red, Princess, you know I’m right.”
“Enough.”
Lancelot lays a hand on Gwaine’s arm. Gwaine hushes. Percival glances around to make sure there aren’t any other knights near and nods.
“What’s troubling you,” Lancelot asks quietly, “and how can we help?”
“There’s nothing you can do.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.” Elyan sits up a little more. “There’s always something we can do.”
“Not with this,” Arthur mumbles, still watching the two magic users train, “not with this.”
Leon follows his gaze. “Impressive, aren’t they?”
“Mhm.”
“Do you wish you had magic too?”
Damn you, Leon. Damn you.
“…no.”
Leon chuckles softly. “Come now, sire, no need to lie to us.”
“I just—“ Arthur sighs, scrubbing his face with his hands. “It’s fine.”
Leon lays a hand on his shoulder.
“…they’re both…incredible—don’t tell them I said that,” Arthur says sharply.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gwaine lies.
Arthur sighs again. “I just…I know I was born of magic, but…”
“You don’t have any,” Leon guesses, “not like they do.”
He shakes his head.
“Eh, you don’t need it,” Gwaine says, leaning up against Arthur’s side, “you’re plenty fine without it.”
Arthur’s head whips around to stare at him in shock. Gwaine raises an eyebrow.
“What? You are.”
“Since when do you give me compliments?”
Gwaine shrugs. “’S not about compliments, it’s about the truth. You’re able to do a shit load of things perfectly fine on your own, you don’t need to have magic for it.”
“He’s right, sire,” Lancelot adds, “your skills are a testament to you, not to whatever magic brought you into this world.”
“I’d follow you with or without magic.” Percival stands tall. “Just so happens you don’t have it. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”
“You’re our commander,” Elyan agrees, “that’s that.”
Leon’s hand on his shoulder rubs soft circles, brushing away his protests. He’s not sure if he believes them entirely, not just yet, but maybe…
Maybe one day he will. After all, he thinks with a smile, he’s got some people to help him with that.
He never thought he’d see his sister again.
——————————————
“Mum?”
Hunith turns around and smiles.
“Merlin, come here.”
Merlin rushes forward, wrapping his arms around her in a warm hug.
“Why didn’t you send word you were coming,” she scolds gently, “I would’ve gotten everything ready.”
“I wanted to surprise you!”
“Well, I am surprised. Sit, sit, tell me everything.”
Her son sits, idly toying with his hands. She frowns.
“What’s the matter?”
“I, um…I have a question for you.”
“What is it?”
“Where…where am I from?”
Oh.
Oh.
Hunith smiles and tells him the story. Tells him of how Balinor arrived one night, a little babe clutched in his arms. How he told her how the queen had two children, one that had to be kept safe away from Camelot. How his magic had reached out to her once she held him, wrapped around them as he fell asleep against her breast.
Merlin listens, tears in his eyes, as she tells him that she loved him from the moment she saw him, that he would always have a home here.
“You’re my mum,” he mumbles, wiping away tears, “and I—you’re always gonna be my mum.”
“Oh, Merlin, come here—“
She holds her son in her arms and thanks the magic of the world that gave him to her.
——————————————
Uther responds about as well as you’d expect.
As in, not at all.
At least, not until he realizes that there are three children who are about to make sure he does what he promised Ygraine he would, and if he doesn’t, they’ll do it for him.
He tries to deny having another son, one that was raised as a peasant, no less, only for Arthur to stand up in court and publicly acknowledge Merlin as his brother.
He tries to deny that Morgana is his daughter, only for Morgana to stand tall and proud by Arthur’s side as they declare their intent to rule as brother and sister.
He tries to deny that not one but two of his children have magic, only for Arthur to open talks with the druids by using his brother and sister with magic as ambassadors.
He tries.
He fails.
He wants to think that he still has his loyal knights, but Gwaine and Percival decide that they’re Merlin’s bodyguards, and Leon and Lancelot won’t leave Arthur’s side. Morgana doesn’t need her own bodyguards, but Elyan and Gwen are never far from her.
He wants to think he still has the support of the Council, but Gaius had stood and given a speech about being so happy to see Ygraine’s children home again and his words had been frozen before he could say anything.
He wants to think he’s still the king. But everyone is starting to look to Arthur, to Morgana, not to him.
Once, and only once, he considers getting rid of the boy.
When he wakes from a terrible nightmare of drowned children, burned houses, and Ygraine’s immortal disappointment, he doesn’t think of it again.
Uther isn’t dragged kicking and screaming from his throne, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t many who’d love to if he gave them the opportunity.
He’s not worth lingering on.
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Alfonso’s Story part 3 (Camilla and Elizabeth)
Five years (11,495) since Alfonso had sent Isabella to the Asylum in hopes of her getting better, the Spades Royal Court receive news that the Queen-Consort had died. Alfonso had been informed that Isabella had contracted the Snowflake Disease and quickly deteriorated and died (though this had actually been a lie and a cover up of the Asylum). The same disease that took his mothers and his two eldest son’s lives had now taken Alfonso's wife as well. Alfonso shut himself away for months crying and mourning the loss of his wife and Queen. He refused to let anyone talk or see him; apart from Elizabeth:
Elizabeth, having been his friend before his wife’s death and had listened to his woes without complaint, came to his side immediately and comforted him in his grief. Elizabeth managed to get him out of his room and to look after himself with walks. He truly appreciated everything she did for him.
While Alfonso was more focused on looking after himself and his mental health while Elizabeth cared for him, the other courtiers grew somewhat jealous. Many had begun to throw themselves at Alfonso in hopes of becoming his next spouse. Even when he had confirmed he was not willing to marry ever again they began to fight to be his right hand Advisor as Queen of Spades, some even wanting to be a surrogate for any heirs he would need for the future. But his attention was on Elizabeth who tried her best to distract her friend from the ridiculous games the nobles were trying to get him to play. Alfonso, very aware of the nobles desperate for his power and growing somewhat paranoid, pulled Elizabeth aside one day questioning if this had all been her plan in hopes of becoming the next Queen of Spades, she adamantly denied it and explained her relationship with Camilla, even showing off the ring that Camilla had given her. Alfonso relieved that Elizabeth had no ulterior motive carried on their friendship with peace of mind:
Elizabeth’s parents, noticing the close bond their daughter had with Alfonso, began to push for her to marry him and become the new Queen of Spades. Elizabeth tried her best to persuade her parents that was not what she or Alfonso wanted nor needed however they grew more and more persistent. Seeing her parents grow more power hungry each passing day she tried to tell them she had already promised herself to Camilla in hopes it would stop their efforts to push for a union between Alfonso and her. However this only enraged her parents who said they have no choice but ‘to remove the problem’ locking Elizabeth away so she was unable to warn Camilla or run away with her:
Camilla had been taking Kamir out into the capital again, both having a fun evening together. As the two were returning the palace Camilla was grabbed by one of the Royal guards announcing she was being taken to the Asylum because she had been showing strange and unruly behaviour that needed to examined in order to ‘help her’. As Camilla was being dragged away Kamir tried his best to stop he guard arguing Camilla’s case that she was completely sane and showed no sign of anything the guard had claimed. However Kamir’s words were met with deaf ears and Camilla dragged away to the dungeons until the Asylum would collect her the next day:
Elizabeth, desperate to save Camilla from whatever her parents have planed for her, tried her best to break free from her room. With the door securely locked she opted to climb out the window. Upon finally breaking free from her room she ran through the Spades Palace looking for Alfonso, praying to the Fae that he could help her. She found him in his room and begged and pleaded with him to help save her and Camilla. Through her sobs she told him everything about her parents demanding she try and marry him. Alfonso was speechless from seeing Elizabeth in such a state and hearing what her parents had done. As this was going on Kamir also barged into his room demanding he release Camilla and began ranting about how using the Asylum as a place of punishment rather a place of healing was evil and wrong. As Kamir ranted and raved Elizabeth ran over to him questioning if he knew where Camilla was and if she was already too late. Kamir shocked to see Elizabeth so upset tried to tell her that Camilla had been taken away by a guard and will be taken to the asylum tomorrow. Alfonso told the two to stay in the room and he would get Camilla back:
Alfonso silently collected Camilla from he cell she had been sitting in and guided her back to his room where Elizabeth and Kamir were waiting. Elizabeth was so relieved to see Camilla again and mostly unharmed, the two cried in one another’s arms. Alfonso watched the reunion filled with unbridled rage. He was furious with how his friend and her lover had been treated and all under his nose. He was also furious to learn that the place he had built to help people, to help his wife, was being used to get rid of people who were ‘bothering’ the nobles.
Alfonso announced to the three in the room that Elizabeth will be his wife and she and Camilla would be under his protection. His only request was that Elizabeth were to give him an heir. The reunited couple agreed to this knowing that if they didn’t both of them would still be at the mercy of Elizabeth’s parents. Alfonso reassured them that they could still be together and Elizabeth will only be his friend and Queen and nothing more. He tells Kamir to never speak of this evening again. He also warned him to never to barge into his room unannounced and be so rude to him again otherwise he would throw him out of Spades without a boat or paddle:
It was announced to the Spades court that Elizabeth would be the new Queen of Spades and Alfonso’s wife. They also announced that Camilla will be Elizabeth’s lady-in-waiting, a role that had always been reserved for nobles. There was some outrage with the announcements but Alfonso shut it down real quick. It’s not the only thing that Alfonso received backlash for; the age difference between him and Elizabeth, something he had been uncomfortably aware of himself and loathed that he was marrying someone who could be his daughter. The two were married without problem and Elizabeth was crowned queen-consort and the new Queen of Spades:
Both Alfonso and Elizabeth were very uncomfortable married to one another but they remained very good friends. Alfonso removed Elizabeth’s parents from his court forbidding them from interacting with heir daughter. He was even prepared to punish Elizabeth’s half-brother as well but Elizabeth defended him when it is revealed he had played no part or even knew what their parents were doing. Two years into their marriage Elizabeth gave birth to their son, Prince Dylan, Jack of Spades. Alfonso absolutely adored his new son and doted on him constantly for the first few months before he grew scared and distanced himself from his child. Having lost all four of his children in his past marriage he feared he would lose Dylan as well so kept himself away in order not to get too attached in case the worst happened:
Camilla and Elizabeth kept their relationship going both were ecstatic about the new baby. Camilla also loved Dylan and treated him like her own at first but was soon pushed away from the young prince by his tutors and nannies saying she had no place acting like his parent. Elizabeth tried her best to include Camilla in this new family as she saw Camilla was just as much Dylan’s parent as her and Alfonso were, but social constructs only distanced her further from the family which was hard on both of them. Camilla feeling alone and wanting to be part of a family of her own was approached by Kamir who needed an heir himself. He explained his plight of being Aromantic and Asexual man and how his mother was desperate for him to get married or at least have a child to carry on their title. He asked if she was willing to have his baby. She was confused by the proposition considering she was a Spade common and he was a Heart noble. Kamir explained his ‘brilliant idea’ that Camilla will have their child and if they had a heart mark like Kamir they would come to Hearts with him once they were an adult. He would send support and visit them both often and even if the child was a Spade he would send support and wouldn’t abandon them. Camilla agreed to his plan though she was rather skeptical.
Camilla gave birth to Alvis, who was born with a Heart noble mark meaning he would be in fact Kamir’s heir. With Alfonso’s permission, Elizabeth and Camilla had Dylan and Alvis raised together as brothers and they were able to become a little family in a slightly unconventional way:
#Alfonso Espadas III#king of spades#elizabeth solorio#elizabeth solorio-espadas#seven of spades#queen of spades#camilla ennis#kamir wilson#four of hearts#noble#royals#commons#dylan espadas#alvis wilson#spades#hearts#mini story#alfonso's story#alfonso's mini story#elizabeth and camilla mini story#elizabeth and camilla#cards#oc#ocs#backstory#Cindia Romero#Filiepe Solorio
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Never Met You
Chapter 7: Peace
To fight for peace they need to lay down their weapons. To know peace, they need to recognize their enemies’ humanity.
The throne room was deadly quiet. No one spoke, some almost didn’t dare to breath, as Logan Rayne and George Seymore stared at each other. The arrival of the king had been deadly quiet, the words exchanged cuttingly polite and superficial. Rarely Logan’s lips were pressed together so tensely in a smile. Rarely people could see King George force a grin for such a long time.
The formalities had taken up a good forty minutes at this point and Logan was glad that they had finally had moved on into the conference hall, where they would discuss the possible truce offerings. Janus was setting up the presentation of the current events at the shared boarder together with Jean Seymore, the older brother of the king who was acting as his right hand since he refused the throne years ago. The man was slick, sleazy and ruthless and Janus had expressed his dislike for him at least fifteen times a day since he had started working everything out with him.
Janus begins the presentation by giving a detailed account of the last few attacks and breaches that had happened at the north-eastern boarders in the last weeks and recounted all the reports of stolen and destroyed goods, the injured soldiers and the few hurt commoners who had been attacked by the forces.
Jean thanked him when he finished and began to add reports and sightings from the Raganian side of the conflict. Immediately he began to defend their people by putting the blame on the Theanan soldiers, who supposedly had irritated and mocked their soldiers until they simply had to react. It cost Janus all the nerves he had to not scratch his own eyes out because of the vibrant and ostentatious colours Jean’s lies produced.
“And thus, I thank the Theanan court for their attention and conclude my reports of the current events. I shall give the word back to His Majesty, the King of Theana,” Jean said with a slimy bow and stood down.
Logan had listened to all of it with a neutral smile. He had expected the outcome and had prepared for the situation. And now the time had come for him to answer and bowed his head as Jean retreated and directed his attention towards George who was sitting on the other side of the table.
He looked stiff, wearing a deep violet coat with furred rims. His coal dark eyes were pulsating with power and anger which was barely veiled behind his expression. Logan needed to be careful with what he was going to say and especially how he was going to say it.
Calm but not without vigour in his voice Logan began to speak: “Thank you so much for your intel, Advisor Seymore. I apologize for the inappropriate behaviour my soldiers displayed and will them have investigated and put into place as we see fit. I hope that could be an acceptable first step to overcome our differences.”
George raised an eyebrow. Logan kept his expression straight and continued.
“As for the claim of Vallée du Tournesol; as far as the reports go the people there do not wish to be part of Ragan, but I will of course allow you to question them yourself to make sure that my claims are right.”
“And if these claims are right, you will keep the valley?” George countered coldly. “There is no economic use of the lands for you. It's on the other side of the Blue Mountain range, hard to access and cultivate. What I am offering you is a relief of those barren lands. And we both know that the people of Vallée du Tournesol are culturally closer to my kingdom than yours. They have always been. It will be easier for me to deal with them than it has ever been for you.”
“I don’t disagree with those claims, Your Majesty. Yet I will listen to what my people wish for. Even if their wish to stay with Theana were a burden for the kingdom, we can and will carry it, as long that is so desired.”
King Georges jaw was tense. Logan kept on smiling calmly.
“But I have an offer to make to you,” Logan said and waved one his advisors from the side who came with a scroll and displayed it in front of the gathered court. “Since you are right with your claim that the Vallée du Tournesol is very closely linked to the Raganian culture, I have drafted a new arrangement on the duty system on the boarders, which shall allow both neighbouring regions to cross the boarders without fees and waiting lists. Like that your concerns would be addressed and it also would allow our kingdoms to have a more prolific exchange between our cultures.”
Logan paused and folded his hands on top of the table. He had thought a long time about this next offer and hoped that it would be worth the risk he was taking right now.
“Also, I wish to enter an alliance with Ragan. It would entail the help in food, water as well as epidemic crisis and the support of our army in times of war. This arrangement can be exclusive if you wish so and we would be willing to stop our talks with Sictes and Kainen immediately if you are considering this offer.”
There was mumbling among King George’s council. Logan didn’t watch them. Jean broke off the rest of the council and walked up to George. He whispered something in his ear. Logan did not watch him.
Logan only watched his fellow king’s reaction. His chest ached when he saw the cold expression turning to ice.
“Where is His Royal Highness?”
Logan sighed and looked to the side where Green stood. He was still under the command to look after Roman but had been allowed to attend to this meeting. At Logan’s look he bowed his head and stepped forward. Keeping his head low but turning slightly towards the foreign king the Raganian council laid eyes on him.
“His Royal Highness, Prince Roman,” Green stated evenly, “was excused from this meeting by the Court Physician as was stated in the greeting formalities. He is not in the state to attend.”
This was a lie. Janus had fabricated this excuse for Roman to stay out of this because Logan, Roman and he knew that it wouldn’t take much for Roman to become angry and unreasonable in King George’s presence. And yet he wished in this moment that Roman would have been here, as George clicked his tongue dismissively and waved Green to stand down.
“There is no talking sense with a guileless commoner playing king like you, Rayne. This talk is over,” King George announced and stood up.
The urge to scream and shout rippled through Logan’s body. Instead, he just stood. Smiled. Thanked the king for his visit and let them be accompanied outside of the castle.
***
Old men were talking over each other and fighting about what would be best for Theana. Why had █████ ever thought that would be any different after he would be officially been crowned ████?
With a subtle sigh he blended their shouting out and looked around the room. This was his first meeting with the military leaders and advisors since the coronation and the first meeting without Royal Advisor Jove. █████ had let him retire as he became ████ so Janus was now taking over almost all of the tasks Jove had still been doing for him. The military meetings were the only exceptions, which Janus would not attend and █████ felt a bit forlorn in all of this without his Royal Advisor by his side. At least like that he would have someone to joke with or make funny faces at when no one was looking.
Now he had to settle with staring at Logan Rayne. The young advisor was sitting close to General La Cour, who was being rather quiet as usual. By now █████ knew that Logan had gone to the Mercier Acadamy and was a commoner who had with the help of scholarships and a brilliant mind worked his way up to the position he was now upholding. He had faced many obstacles and █████ was admittedly even more impressed by him after each new fact he learnt.
The meeting was reaching its end and █████ was listening to several of the military men fighting about how the boundaries towards Ragan had to be secured more fiercely, as he noticed Logan lightly clenching his jaw and fists. A spark of curiosity got enlightened in █████’s eyes and with a simple motion of his hand he stopped the discussion. Immediately all men looked at him but he did not pay them any attention. He was completely focused on Logan.
“Advisor Rayne,” █████ said and motioned towards him, “you seem to have something to say. Please correct me if I assumed wrong but otherwise, I would like to hear what you think about the proposition to raise the security measures by our boundaries towards Ragan.”
All eyes were on Logan now who for once did not look as neutral and well put together as he usually did. █████ talking directly to him in favour of listening to all the others who had been talking was not the diplomatic thing to do and Logan felt a few unflattering stares thrown into his direction.
“Advisor Rayne? Would you enlighten me?”
Logan snapped out of it and bowed his head towards █████ before he explained: “I do not think that upping the security at the north-eastern boundaries will be useful.”
Commander Tama was about to interrupt Logan right there but stopped as █████ held up his hand again and said: “I want you to let him speak. He at least knows how to be straight forward with his opinions.”
And that was all the push Logan needed.
Confidently, he continued: “After the coronation we have had a calmer and more idle relationship with Ragan than we had in many years. To return to the tense atmosphere from before would be inefficient as we can trade many goods with them and profit from the cultural exchange. This is our chance to strengthen our relationships with them and offer them to lessen the duty fees as a first step. I also could see an exchange program between our academies and universities, since their education and research systems are developed quite well and we could learn a lot from each other.”
█████’s ears rang. This man-
“This has nothing to do with military strategy,” Commander Zhao said.
█████ wanted to speak up but Logan came before him and retorted coldly: “The military strategies you are thinking of belong to war times. I do not wish to think of or reach war times under any circumstances. My concern is to the people of this country and not to its army or the warfare industries. The ████ has made a point to focus on the education system, infrastructure and health services, which serve the people of Theana as well. Why not use these new resources instead of outdated and inefficient strategies that will lead to unnecessary conflicts and the potential losses of lives? We have good people who can and want to protect our country. They should be put to use helping within our boarders instead of protecting us from a non-existent threat from the outside. What you are talking about will not help our people nor do I think is it what our ████ wants for his country. Or am I mistaken, ████ ███████?”
With his legs crossed and his hand resting thoughtfully on his chin █████ watched Logan intently. Then he pulled his hand away and revealed a wide smirk to the surprise and horror of the council. Except for Logan, who had not yet seen what this smirk could mean and was utterly clueless to what was to happen next.
“You are not mistaken, Advisor Rayne. Your proposals and ideas are more than welcome and I will have them discussed at the next meeting. You may present all those points to me and the rest of the council. Of course, you may gather whoever you need for a committee and tell me which people you need to realize your projects. Is this acceptable to you, Advisor Rayne?”
Logan’s heart was almost standing still. Or maybe it was beating too fast for him to feel it beat anymore. He couldn’t be sure as he simply agreed with █████’s conditions and stood up as the ████ announced that the meeting was to end now. But Logan did not go outside. He stood still as the others left besides █████ who was looking at him with a coy smile. As finally all had left █████ walked towards him and Logan’s brain decided to function again.
“I am honoured that you gave me this opportunity, ████ ███████,” Logan said quickly and lowered his gaze.
█████ wanted to tease him that he had been able to look at him before but let it be as a moment went by and instead decided give him a little space by looking towards the door of the conference hall.
“I am sure you will do a wonderful job,” █████ said gently and saw how Logan raised his eyes a little from the corner of his eyes.
There was a bit more movement and Janus was looking inside the hall, as he had waited for █████ to come out, when Logan began to speak: “I do not want to be ungrateful for what you give me but why did you want me to speak? I had not said a single thing before.”
█████ turned his head back to Logan. Their eyes met and something intense was laying in the air.
With a smile everything shifted.
“Who do you serve?”
Logan blinked.
“Theana’s people and you, ████ ███████.”
█████ snickered and squeezed Logan’s upper arm who looked at him with big eyes. Playfully, █████ tilted his head and pulled him to his side. He began walking towards Janus, who had a hard time to not start groaning at his ████’s behaviour.
“You put the people before me, Rayne,” █████ said as Logan’s mind was still short-circuiting, “which makes you a truly great advisor. One I would love to work with you a bit closer, if you were open to that?”
At that Logan halted in his step and sputtered in a high-pitched voice: “Pardon me?”
█████ threw him a confused look until he noticed the deep flush over his nose and began to right out laugh to Janus’s dismay and amusement.
“Oh, not like that!” █████ cackled with a suggestive eye wiggle and let go of Logan’s arm. “I meant that I wanted to give you a position as my personal military advisor, since Royal Advisor J- Celer doesn’t fill that role. If you would be interested in that, of course.”
Logan looked up, still with a brightly flushed face but a little less tension in his shoulders and replied: “Oh, I will consider it, as it is quite a big responsibility I were to carry if I agree to this offer. Nevertheless, I am very honoured by your trust. I promise I will do anything in my power to not disappoint your trust in me, ████ ███████.”
As Logan bowed █████ looked over his shoulder to Janus, who simply shook his head. Why did █████ always have to choose the hard and unconventional path in life, Janus thought as he watched █████ look fondly back to Logan and let himself smile a little.
At least his job would never get boring.
***
Logan was pulled into a follow up meeting. They were talking about the entry of the soldiers, the first locations which would be put under attack and if they were to wait for the Raganian court to officially declare a first date for an upcoming battle at the frontier or if they should do so themselves.
To Logan most of it was a blur. His head was spinning and his mind fighting with the realization that had failed to keep the conflict form escalating. Theana’s people would suffer because he had not been able to mediate successfully and so many innocent people might die because of it. So much would be lost.
After two hours of sitting with his council, Logan excused himself. Green was again stationed with Roman and Janus was overseeing the current military meeting, which left Logan unsupervised for the first time in weeks. Quickly, he walked through the halls, avoiding all the well populated areas and eventually ended up in a storage room in the proximity of the kitchen. He slammed the door behind him and paced around flour sacks and dried meats while panting and pulling at his hair.
Once more Logan began to feel faint and he hoisted himself on a chest. He didn’t understand and he felt the nausea come up again. Since weeks this had messed with his head and health and he did no longer know what to do. He had managed to keep Janus’s question away but he didn’t dare to go to the Court Physician now. Not when the conflict with Ragan was escalating. They couldn’t have a weak king. They couldn’t have a king who was about to cry in a storage room, because his head was dizzy, his heart ached and his lungs burned.
Yet before a tear could fall from his eyes, the noise from something falling off the shelf yanked Logan back into reality and he stood up immediately. He ignored the dizzy feeling and cleared his throat.
“Who is here?” Logan boomed through the small room.
The sound of a tiny whimper dissolved any spark of anger Logan had felt in the moment. Quickly he stepped around the shelves, looking for the source of the little cries. And soon he found what he was looking for. Behind a shelf full of jars of jams, between two potato sacks he found a little boy who he had seen once before.
Through curly brown locks little Patton glimpsed up to him, several food items pressed fearfully against his chest. Had it been anyone else who had hidden in this storage room with Logan, he had asked them how they got here, what they intended to do and then called for the guards. But it was Patton who was sitting there on the floor and Logan would not ask him those things or send him away. Instead, he slowly crouched down a little ways away from the boy. He made sure there was enough space for Patton to get past him if he wished to do so.
“That was a little loud, wasn’t it?” Logan said gently and watched Patton immediately relax. “I meant to ask who is here but it seems like I have found my answer between the potatoes.”
Patton giggled a little and carefully came out of hiding between the potato sacks. He wiped his nose with his arm and walked towards Logan. A bit clumsily, Logan sat down and Pat knelt down in front of him. Silently Logan watched as Patton put down five apples in a neat line. Next, he put a tissue on the floor and looked up to Logan with big eyes.
“I know I should not take things from the castle. It is forbidden and bad. But I was going to share with some other kids in the orphanage and these looked really, really, really good,” Patten explained bashfully and put two muffins and a cupcake on the tissue.
Logan was about to reassure Patton that he was not in trouble for taking two muffins and a cupcake from the kitchen when a growl cut him off. With a flushed face Logan pressed his hands over his stomach which growled again with hunger.
“You should not skip lunch, Sir Will Suffice!” Patton said decidedly and shot Logan an impressively scolding look for a five-year-old.
Taken aback and still embarrassed Logan replied sheepishly: “I didn’t skip lunch. I don’t know why I am hungry again.”
But maybe that explained why he was feeling a little dizzy and nauseous. His blood sugar might be too low.
“Maybe you’re growing!” Patton pulled him out of his thoughts. “That’s what Ms Anouilh always says when I am super hungry! It’s because my body needs food to grow and make me taller and stronger. Did you know that, Sir Will Suffice?”
Logan could not help himself and smile.
“I actually did know that. Yet I don’t believe that would be the case for me, as I have stopped growing a few years ago. But did you know that the body does not only need food to grow but also to have energy and function adequately?”
“So, you mean that you might be hungry because you already used all your energy? For the big meeting with King George?” Patton said with a concentrated frown.
Logan blinked. The public did know of the meeting but it was a little odd that a five-year-old would know of it. He was about to ask when Patton stood up and stretched his hand out for him. With big eyes he pointed to the side where Logan had come from and said: “If you are tired you should probably sit more comfortably! Come let’s go to your box! Mr Green would want that for you!”
Logan let out a brief laugh and got up with a grunt. He kept holding Patton’s hand and let the boy lead him around the shelves back to the chest he had been sitting on. As Patton wished, he sat back down and watched as Patton went forth and back between the shelves to gather his food and bring it over to Logan. Lastly, he brought the muffins and the cupcake and looked at them intensely for a moment before he eventually held one muffin out to Logan.
“I can share with you. We have enough food in the orphanage and I am sure I can come on another day to get some treats,” Patton explained and put the muffin in Logan’s hand as he didn’t reach for it.
Perplexed Logan looked down at the muffin and then back up to Patton. The boy smiled and took the other one in his hand and climbed next to him. Happily, he let his legs dangle down and held his muffin up as if he was toasting Logan.
“Bon appétit!” Patton said and Logan finally toasted back with his muffin and took a bite.
Before Logan knew it the muffin was gone and he realized that he had really been hungry and still could eat some more. As if Patton had read his mind, he looked at the cupcake and simply handed I over to him. There was more hesitance in the gesture than before and Logan took out the knife he usually hid in his boot. With a handkerchief he wiped over the blade and then cut the cupcake in half. With a grin he pushed one half towards Patton and took the other one for himself.
It didn’t take the two of them a minute to eat their halfs and Patton soon asked Logan to cut the apples into slices. Logan obliged and Patton watched fascinatedly how he was handling the blade. Logan took the opportunity to ask what had been on his mind.
“Did Mr Green tell you of the meeting of today, or was there another reason for you to be aware of it?”
“Mr Green told me!” Patton answered and took an apple slice. “I was with him last night and he explained to me that today was a very important talk between you and King George. It decides over the fate of this kingdom he said and that is pretty scary. I don’t know if I would want to have talks that decide over the fate of a kingdom. That’s really scary.”
Logan hummed and dried his blade from the apple remains. Quietly, he put the knife back in his boot and took a slice for himself.
“It is quite scary indeed. But it is my duty as king to face it nevertheless.”
Patton nodded and they ate in silence for a few minutes.
“Is there going to be a war?”
Logan gulped. He glimpsed over to Patton. He looked at him with big watery eyes and concern that should never be visible in a child’s face. Logan had failed. Failed protecting his kingdom and this child.
“I am afraid so, yes.”
Patton did not start crying. Instead, he dug his fingers into the fabric of his pants and balled his fists forcefully. Logan slid closer to him and put his hand on his back. Slowly, Patton leaned against his side and Logan just drew circles on his back. It was all he could do right now.
“Will Green have to fight in it?”
Tears began to drop from Patton’s cheeks and Logan gently lifted his face and wiped them away. His guard had gotten close to Patton over the past month. Green had mentioned Patton ever so often, always joy and fondness in his words when he spoke. Janus and Virgil, both had told him that the kid frequently visited him and how they played together close to the stables.
“I understand that Green is very important to you?” Logan asked softly and Patton nodded. “I do not plan on sending him to the front. He will stay with me but that will be dangerous as well, I’m afraid. But I will frequently remind him that he needs to be careful so that he can come back to you. Do you think that would help?”
Instead of an answer Patton shot forward and hugged Logan ferociously as a wave of whimpers and tears shook through him. Logan held him close. He could barely imagine the pain Patton was going through. Finally, this orphan had found the first real parental figure in his life only for him to lose him right away in a senseless war. How was this fair? How was this real? Logan didn’t know and pulled Patton on his lap to hug him properly. Patton didn’t resist and let his king hold and cradle him fiercely as he slowly calmed down.
Eventually, Patton was quiet but for a few sniffles. His head was laying against Logan’s chest and he listened to his heartbeat and a few grumbly noises Logan’s stomach made. Patton blinked and wiped his eyes dry. No more crying he decided and opened the little satchel he had been carrying with him. Inside he had Green’s surprise from yesterday evening. He checked if it was still there and then cautiously put the satchel down next to him and slipped from Logan’s lap.
There had been jam on the shelves and the whole kingdom knew that their king really liked jam. Quickly, he walked around and found the shelf with the jam in question and carefully took one jar out of it. He looked on the label but couldn’t quite make out if it was a picture of a strawberry or a raspberry. Both were good enough he decided and walked back to the chest and his king.
“Could you take out the spoon I have in my satchel Mr Will Suffice?” Patton asked and Logan opened it with a frown.
He seemed surprised when he actually found a wooden spoon amongst the clutter in the little bag as well as something wrapped in several napkins. Yet before Logan could ask Patton took the satchel back. He gave Logan the jar and then fished the thing in the napkin out of his bag. Very carefully he began to unwrap it and finally Logan could see what was hidden under it.
“Sugar cookies?” Logan asked incredulously.
Patton grinned and nodded. Quickly he motioned for Logan to open the jar and explained in the meantime: “Green made them for me yesterday! He said it was a gift because I have been so nice to him but I know that he just likes giving me things. He knows I don’t have a lot of stuff and I am very excited about anything that he can give me. So that is pretty cool. And because your tummy is still making noises, I thought we could share some! Did I bring raspberry or strawberry jam? I can’t see it on the label.”
Logan needed a moment to catch himself. He didn’t know why but his head somehow got stuck on the first sentence.
“Green bakes?” Logan asked with a flushed face and opened the jar with a pop.
Patton shot him a strange look and then took the jam out of Logan’s hand and began to scoop some of it on the cookies.
“Mhm, but he just started! He says he isn’t that good yet but I like it a lot! I know he tries very hard. He has also told me to share things if I can. He says that it’s annoying but it’s more fun to share,” Patton explained and handed Logan a cookie with jam on it.
A bit of the jam got stuck on Logan fingers but he could not bring himself to mind. Instead, his mind clung on the picture of Green sitting in front of the stove, waiting for his cookies to bake and tapping his fingers on his knee as his patience ran out. But eventually, Logan managed to focus again and looked at the cookie in his hands. Just smelling the jam made his mouth water a little and he knew he could not resist the temptation much longer.
“You can eat it! I still don’t know if it’s strawberry or raspberry though,” Patton said and Logan glimpsed down to the jar between the two.
A fairly big picture of a raspberry was on the label and he told Patton as much. The boy took the jar and held it closely in front of his face. Logan did not comment on it but knew that he would have his optician visit the orphanage and pay for the glasses these children most likely needed.
When Patton had put the jar back down and took his own cookie, Logan toasted to him gently: “Thank you for sharing with me. I am sure it will be berry good.”
The joyous giggling from the little boy almost made him stop cringing at his own bad pun. When Patton had quieted down again, they began to eat their dangerously sweet sugar cookies and Logan felt himself being thrown into heaven. He definitely needed Green to hand the recipe to his cook so he could have more of those. He really wanted more of those.
As Logan took his third one, making sure to not take more than Patton, Patton said: “I think Green will be very happy that you like his baking. He talks about you a lot.”
Logan almost choked but managed to keep himself from doing so and asked: “Is that so?”
“Mhm. He says you are a very good king. Very kind and forgiving. I think he really believes in you. I think he missed you a little when he had to guard Prince Roman. He talked more about you then.”
Logan listened closely and stopped chewing when Patton gave him a very firm look.
“I think he likes likes you.”
Logan almost spit out his food, which Patton ignored and mercilessly continued: “And I think you should like like him back. He is very good at hugging and he knows the best way of how to clean pans now. I showed him!”
“Really?” Logan coughed with a squeaky voice. “That’s great, Patton.”
“Yah! And also, also you like to have him around too, right? That’s why you want him to stay with you for the big fighting! Because you don’t want anything to happen to him!”
A few moments with some more coughing from Logan passed. Then there was quiet. Logan sighed and slid from the chest down on the floor. He knelt down to look Patton directly in the eyes and cupped his cheek with one hand.
“Such things require time and devotion, Patton. Love of any kind needs to be cultivated and cherished. And to do that all parties involved need to devote time and effort for the others. And as king, especially in this situation, I have to be fully devoted to my kingdom. I have to be devoted to you. I have to be devoted to him to and make sure I will do my very best to lead us all through this crisis. I cannot simply choose to give all my time to him, Patton. I cannot be selfish in this position. Not when so many lives are at stake.”
The look in Patton’s face was heart-breaking. But Logan usually went with the truth and he would not make an exception here. Especially not with Patton who seemed to be far smarter and wiser than many kids his age. Or maybe Logan simply didn’t know that many kids his age.
“It is very admirable of you to wish him and me a happy ending, Patton,” Logan tried to soften his approach. “I am thankful that you care for us, but that is not your job. You are still a kid and should have nothing to worry about but your friends and what you want to play next, okay?”
Patton nodded. He didn’t seem convinced but apparently had accepted his explanation. Logan let his hand sink from Patton’s cheek and rested both of his hands on his shoulders. Patton’s eyes seemed so heavy and Logan felt himself almost cooing at the sleepy expression.
“Can you hold me? Your hugs are pretty nice too,” Patton said and stretched his arms out for Logan.
With a little chuckle Logan scooped Patton up and got on his feet. Like a koala Patton clung to Logan and began to drift off the second Logan began to walk around. Softly, Logan kept swaying Patton in his arms and felt him growing heavier and heavier in his arms. He walked back to the chest and sat down with is kid in his arms. Gently he adjusted his weight and Patton nuzzled against his chest.
“When the war ’s over, can you ask him?” Patton mumbled.
“Ask who what?”
“If Green wants cuddling, you silly!” Patton sleepily giggled and closed his eyes. “I think Green would love being held like this.”
Logan didn't think it was fair for Patton to be able to fall asleep after saying that and leaving him a blushing mess with a little kid in his arms. The image of Green in his arms, head on his chest and his hands tangled in his long hair felt almost like a memory instead of a vivid daydream and Logan had a hard time to ban the picture out of his mind again.
It helped that Patton snored tiny whistle snores and took Logan’s mind of thoughts and feelings for Green which he would not name at this point in time. He just kept focusing on the Patton in his arms and felt himself slowly feel heavier too.
Today had been a terrible day. He had a war at his hands, his people, his friend and family would be forced to fight for no reason but the stubbornness of a man who did not wish to listen to reason. So many children like Patton must be worried for their parents and trusted guardians who were going to fight for their kingdom. He had never wished for this to happen.
Enveloped in his thoughts Logan had lost track of time. He didn’t think of the fact that there was a meeting which he had walked out of, that there was Janus who worried about him constantly these days. He didn’t think of the fact that Janus could have started looking for him already and had told Green and Virgil to do the same as he had no idea where the king could be.
Logan didn’t hear the door opening as he watched Patton’s sleeping face. He almost didn’t hear the steps that were approaching. But suddenly he registered them and looked up. He had not expected Green to be standing there with his mouth wide agape and staring at Patton on his lap.
“Is he asleep?” Green whispered.
Logan found himself simply nodding and stood up. He noticed how Green looked him over and realized that he might look a little messy from his own agitated hair pulling and the snacking with Patton. He opened his mouth to excuse himself but the words died on his tongue when he saw the smile bloom on Green’s face as he looked closer at Patton.
So, Logan walked up to him and gently gave him the boy, quickly fixed his own hair and made sure that nothing was sticking to his face anymore. Green was preoccupied swaying Patton and waited until his king stood by his side before he took Patton’s little satchel and left the room with Logan by his side.
“How long have I been away? I had no indication of time in the storage room,” Logan said keeping his voice low.
“Close to an hour by now. The Royal Advisor got antsy,” Green explained and shot a look to Logan. “I don’t mean to intrude, so ignore that I even asked if I am out of line, but is there a reason why you were eating jam with Pat in there?”
For a moment Logan said nothing and Green expected that his question had been too intrusive.
“My blood sugar seemed to have dropped a bit during today’s events. Patton advised that I ate something.”
Laugher. Bright and loud laugher echoed from the wall and Logan stood still as he watched Green’s face light up. Something clenched in his chest but it didn’t hurt. It felt familiar and he wanted it to stay.
“He can get quite bossy, this little one! I hope he didn’t pressure you too much, Your Majesty.”
Logan shook his head and smiled at Green. He didn’t get to say more as Janus and Virgil appeared around the corner and asked what had happened. Logan didn’t go into detail and only vaguely hinted at Patton. He asked Green to bring him back to the orphanage and question him later on how he got into the castle undetected. Green agreed and Logan went back with Janus for his meeting.
The day kept on going with preparations and scheduling the next few days. Logan didn’t find time to do much but agree and listen to his advisors until it was already late and he headed back to his chamber. But there was still one thing left to do and he turned away around and got to Janus’s quarters.
He walked by his room, voices quietly talking from the inside and he rolled his eyes and headed to his office. As expected the light was on and with one knock Logan entered.
“Virgil I’m com-” Janus stopped as he turned around in his seat to see Logan stand there.
Before Janus could say anything else, Logan stepped inside and closed the door. He smiled at him and raised his eyebrows.
“I won’t keep you long. They must be awaiting you in your room,” Logan said and walked closer to his desk.
Janus shifted a bit in his seat but kept his face blank. It didn’t do anything to hide his embarrassment, not from Logan at least, but Logan was not going to point it out. Not when he had a favour to ask.
Janus crossed his legs as he waited and realized after a few moments that no request would come. Curiously he watched his king. His friend. Right now, Logan seemed not to wear the burden of the crown but the burden of a man and Janus wanted to know what that was.
“What can I do for you, Logan?”
Logan leaned against the desk and intertwined his hand in front of him. He almost looked sheepish.
“Do you think Roman still needs Green as a guard? Or could I have him back with me?”
Logan met Janus’s eyes as he asked but lowered his gaze when Janus didn’t say anything. He sighed and walked away from the desk. Maybe he was being foolish. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked.
“Why are you asking for my opinion? You are the king, Logan. You can have whoever you want as your guard,” Janus said.
He headed towards the door and looked over his shoulder to Janus. Why did he ask for Janus’s opinion? For his permission?
“Of course,” Logan said and opened the door to leave, “don’t stay up too long. They’ll be worried.”
Somehow that phrase didn’t sound like it had been meant for Janus.
___
Link for AO3, Taglist, Masterlist, and next Chapters are in my first reblog!
#intrulogical#platonic logicality#logan sanders#patton sanders#remus sanders#janus sanders#roman sanders#virgil sanders#talk of war#war#sanders sides#food tw#rood#fantasy au#Never Met You#eir writes#please reblog
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Zukka Goes to a Ball
Hi, this was supposed to be a fluffy oneshot, but then i wrote out the bullet points, and if I write it later I will add a link to it here but for now it’s gonna be a bullet point fic lads, enjoy
(also I wrote this at like 2 am so I’m sorry for the inevitable spelling mistakes and slight rambling)
~~
AU where Iroh took the throne after Lu Ten died, Ozai was cast out for disrespecting Azulon, Zuko and Azula and Ursa had the option to stay and so they did and Zuko and Azula (especially) are better for it, and so Iroh did all the good shit, opening up trade routes and rebuilding the nations and removing the laws that outlawed homosexuality
Aang is still found when Katara and Sokka are out fishing, but the village is being rebuilt, the men are home, and with the Northern Water Tribe’s help, the two tribes have pooled their resources and customs together to preserve the customs they have/had, but also listened to people like Yue, Sokka, and Katara to see what should be done/changed to help make the future better
The customs mean that Sokka and Katara now have the labels of Prince and Princess of the Southern Water Tribe, just like Yue
But the customs of arranged marriage and waterbending teachings are looser, so Katara is taught by Pakku, who marries their grandmother and they grow up with him as a grandfather
Kya is still dead, the last raid happened right before Iroh took the throne
Aang and Katara spent some time together, fell in love, have been together ever since
Yue and Sokka were engaged (and in love), until the moon thing happened; it happened bc Zhao was a follower of Ozai, and Ozai has gained a group of supporters who prefer Sozin’s, Azulon’s, and Ozai’s ways to that of Iroh’s - and Zhao snuck into the Northern Water Tribe and killed the fish, and Yue gave her life to save it
Sokka is devastated, and the Water Tribes are ready for war, but still hope for peace after so much devastation
Iroh, Hakoda, and Arnook meet to try and solve these things without war, and Iroh explains what happened in the past with Azulon and Ozai, and why the Northern Water Tribe was attacked
The three leaders decide that an all nations ball should be held, and that a union between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes would be the best way to smooth things over, and to show solidarity
So its decided that either Katara or Sokka must marry Zuko or Azula
Katara is in love with Aang, and so Sokka knows he must be the one to marry into the Fire Nation Royal Family
He talks about this to katara, who thanks him like hell for not separating her and Aang (not that she expected him to, but it’s a relief)
Aang finds out and thanks him too, and tells him that as the Avatar and as the only representative for the Air Nation, hes been invited and that bc sokka is his family too he will smite Azula or Zuko if they hurt him
He knows Aang wouldn't hurt a fly (seriously, how is he a vegetarian in the freaking South Pole), but he appreciates that Aang and Katara will be there to watch his back
he’s not too upset about being the one to marry bc he knows his sister will be happy, but honestly hates that this is happening at all bc Yue is dead
katara and aang distract him from these thoughts by asking him wether he think’s he’ll be drawn to the prince or the princess (bc sokka is bi and both have known that for ages)
he’s not sure, say’s he’ll see
In the fire nation, Iroh talks to Ursa, and they both talk to Zuko and Azula
They dont know about Aang and Katara, so Zuko and Azula talk about both Katara and Sokka
Azula is still a bit manipulative, but is working on it, and Zuko trusts her enough to tell her that he hopes that he doesn’t have to marry the Southern Princess
Azula asks why, and Zuko admits he likes boys
Azula is silent for a bit, and then says that she hopes she wont have to marry either one of them because she, Ty Lee, and Mai are dating
Zuko swears that she won’t have to stop dating them, that he will be the one to marry
azula and ty lee and mai are v grateful and vow to back him up and kick water tribe ass if whichever one he marries hurts him
in other news, Suki is at the ball as Earth King Kuei’s plus one/bodyguard, and she and azula hit it off so Suki ends up eventually dating Mai and ty Lee and azula as well
back to our regularly scheduled program
Before the ball, Sokka is getting ready with Chief Arnook (Hakoda is getting ready with Bato bc they dating bc I said so)
Sokka says “i loved her, you know. And I will do this for our tribes, and even if I do learn to love whichever of them I’m to marry, I’m not sure I can ever stop loving her, and I want you to know that I did.”
And hes awkward about it, but Arnook hugs him, and says “She loved you so much, Sokka. And she would want you to be happy, as I’m sure you know.” Then he pulls back.
“I know we are technically two separate tribes, but I want you to know, I still consider you a son.” Sokka cries a little, and nods, happy that he has the blessing of the man who was supposed to be his father in law. Sokkas just happy that he can still have that, and smiles at Yue as she rises to look over the ball
Shes smiling cause she knows whats about to happen, and does indeed wish sokka to be happy as he can and will be
Hakoda and Bato come to wish Sokka good luck, bc Sokka and Katara and Aang already talked to them about how Katara and Aang intend to stay together,
Hakoda mentions how proud he is and sokka has to wipe a few tears from his eyes
Iroh and Ursa know the same thing about Zuko and Azula and Mai and Ty Lee, and both wish Zuko luck as well
Iroh makes sure to say how proud he is, and that Zuko is an honorable man
zuko def isnt crying, nope, but he wipes his tears away and carries on
So Azula and Katara are both planning on pushing Zuko and Sokka towards each other, but honestly there doesnt need to be any pushing
The ball attendees, excluding the royals of each Nation (and the Avatar), get to the ballroom, and the doors open for the royals (who are all announced by name), and of course everyone knows what the ball is for (security is quadrupled, from all the nations)
First comes Fire Lord Iroh, followed by Lady Ursa
Next comes in King Kuei
Next is Chief Arnook
Then Hakoda and Bato
Then Zuko and Azula
Then Aang
And lastly, Sokka and Katara
Zuko and Azula are standing by Iroh’s throne, and as the water tribe royals walk in, Sokka and Zuko make eye contact
And both are so smitten with each other
And at some point, it is asked that at least one of the young fire nation and water tribe royals dance together
And Zuko and Sokka look at each other and grasp each others hands and dance
its a slow waltz
And they just look so right together, the two princes
And they go out on the balcony and talk
Zuko says he wants to get to know sokka better, and sokka agrees
But is hesitant still, and asks zuko if he knows why the ball was happening
Zuko kinda shrugs, and says “there was an attack on the NWT, by firebenders loyal to my father, whos a huge asshole and im glad hes not on the throne. Uncle wanted to prove that hes not his brother, which leads to me having to marry, well, you.”
Sokka nods. “So they didn't tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Zuko asked, confused
“The attack on the NWT. The mission was to kill the moon spirit.” Zuko gasped, quickly checking that the full moon was in the sky, which it was. He knew what it meant, what would have happened to the waterbenders.
“They didn’t succeed, though, clearly.” He says, trying for comforting. Sokka laughed, harshly, without humor.
“They did, actually. Zhao - former Commander, now Admiral of Ozai’s followers - he killed it. My fiance, Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe, had a little bit of life from the moon spirit in her. To save us all, she decided to, according to her father, give it back.”
Sokka looks over to Zuko, who’s horrified
“So they’re expecting you to marry me? That’s kinda fucked up, especially if you loved her as much as it sounds like you do.”
Sokka nods. “Look, Zuko, I like you. I can tell already, I do. But,” and here he looks up at the moon, at Yue, “I will never stop loving her.” Looks back to Zuko “She will always have a part of me, and I need you to understand that if we’re supposed to marry each other.”
Zuko nods, understanding entirely. “It wasnt fair, and I would never ask you to stop loving her. I also can tell that I like you too, Sokka, and I’m willing to follow your lead on this. You clearly did love her, and I completely understand that you will continue to. I’m not…” Zuko takes a deep breath.
“I’m not going to ask you to betray your customs, your family, or any past love. I don’t want you to stop loving her, especially not when you clearly love her so much. And I’m willing to wait as long as you need and/or want to.”
Zuko’s nearly out of breath and hes being so honest it hurts, and Sokka’s crying a little so Zuko freaks out and thinks he said the wrong thing but Sokka is quick to reassure him that he said and did everything right
And they go back inside, together, and everyone looks at them, clearly expecting some kind of announcement here
And Sokka steps up, no longer teary eyed (mostly) and says: “I, Prince Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, with blessings from both Water Tribes, ask for permission from the Fire Lord to court Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.”
Hakoda, Bato, Arnook, Ursa, and Iroh are all by Iroh’s throne, and all of them step up. The guests had already parted the way. Katara and Azula are standing slightly to the side, but still nearby.
“I, Fire Lord Iroh, give permission to Prince Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe to court Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, but only if Prince Zuko agrees to it.”
Both sokka and Zuko sigh in relief, smile, and nod at each other in agreement. Its Zuko’s turn to step up.
“I, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, agree to be courted by Prince Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, with blessings from Fire Lord Iroh. I ask for permission from the Chiefs of both the Northern and Southern Water Tribes to court Prince Sokka.”
Hakoda and Arnook step up. Arnook speaks first. “I give my permission for Prince Sokka to be courted by Prince Zuko.” Hakoda is next. “I also give my permission for Prince Sokka to be courted by Prince Zuko, as long as Prince Sokka agrees to it.”
Sokka smiles at Zuko, and they hold hands to show solidarity between nations. And maybe bc they wanted to
Their sisters and (partners of said sisters) come up to them, smiling
Katara and Aang hug sokka, saying theyre proud of him, but also still thanking him
Azula punches sokka and says to be good to her big brother or else
Sokka says yes ma’am
Katara threatens Zuko, who also responds with a yes ma’am
Azula and Katara shake hands, which scares the ever living fuck out of everyone except Toph who laughs
Shes here bc shes a fuckin beifong
Aang trained with Pakku already (and katara of course) but has been looking for an earthbending teacher, and so convinces Toph to teach him bc bumi gave him the same advice here as in the show
Her parents aren’t entirely convinced, but Iroh offers to have the Beifongs stay (for business reasons, of course, winking at Aang and Toph), and that Toph will be safe here and can make new friends and future alliances between nations, which convinces them enough to agree to stay for a while
Sokka and Katara had to stay anyway of course, and Aang stays with Katara (and hey, wouldnt it be good if he could learn earth and firebending while at the palace), but everyone else went home
Shenanigans ensue
Zuko and sokka get closer as friends
And still really, really, really like each other
And of course theyre courting each other but soon they start like, dating dating
And fall in love
And live happily
Maybe Ozai tries to ruin their happiness but Toph punches him in his stupid face so its all good
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Royal Flush - Pt. 7
Part 1|2|3|4|5|6 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art
I am both sorry and not sorry. I really wanted to post this part because I think everyone will like it a lot. I hope you guys enjoy it. Of course... I will assure you that the next part is well underway, so you don’t perhaps try to murder me in my sleep when you reach the end.
Like what you see? Check out my MasterList above for more stories! Feel free to BuyMeACoffee for a starving artist, and if you’re interested, DM me for commission prices/details. As always, much love and appreciation for each and every one of you!
Enjoy!
The next few days passed by in such a blur, I hardly even registered them. My mornings would start with a training spar session with Damjan, who peppered in goblinese vulgarities and unsolicited relationship advice, much to my chagrin. Usually this was followed by an hour or two where I was left to my own devices. I had utilized my new charmed eyes and Seoc’s willing company to explore the top levels of the castle, but had promptly decided this was not the best use of my freedom the third time Seoc had to take the lead to bring me back to my quarters. It was during one of these excursions that we brooched the subject of my need for more clothes (Seoc politely alluded to it, for which I was extremely grateful) and it was arranged for a tailor to be commissioned for a few new outfits similar to the ones I had brought. The first was ready within a day, and I found it lovely despite the slight over embellishments of gold thread at the sleeves and collars on even the tunic and trousers as well as the vest and (thankfully) matching jacket. It seemed the tailor couldn’t completely resist their decadent nature (it probably seemed a horribly dull project to them considering their usual customers).
Before noon each day the King would appear, usually still in a sour mood, and we would share a quick meal before he took me along with him to complete his daily tasks. Most of his day to day responsibilities were things like managing disputes, discussing the use of Royal funds, monitoring progress on plans, and receiving reports from various ends of the kingdom. This was accomplished by meeting with various diplomats and members of court. I attended, but did not participate for the most part. They were kind enough to conduct most of the meetings in Common, but occasionally would slip back into goblinese. It turned out the kingdom was much larger than I had ever been led to believe; the portion of the goblin realm that rested under the same mountain as the castle was only its capital city. There were many other smaller cities and hamlets spread out far and wide beneath the mountain range.
By mid to late afternoon, everyone had been seen, and Grier would retire us to his study if he had paperwork to complete with Hibik. It was there that I began my lessons with a stout little old goblin named Sir Ludde. He spoke softly, and I often had to struggle to hear him. But he was very patient and seemed to have a solid grasp of the relationship between Common and goblinese. Our dinner would be brought to us there, and we would eat while we worked. Occasionally, Grier was needed elsewhere in the castle, and would leave me alone to my lessons. Usually he would return just as I finished and escort me back to my rooms for the evening.
I found I enjoyed our time alone. It was not often; the demands of the court kept the King quite busy (more so than usual, I was assured, due to the new Treaty happening to correspond with the harvest). Sometimes even when we found time to ourselves, we still had more work to do. I with my assignments from Ludde, which were difficult and required almost all of my concentration, and him with his paperwork. On these occasions, I would often look up to find him near me; spread out on the sofa next to me, sitting on the ground by the marble table at my feet. And, as if he could sense my eyes, he would look up and smile. And I would blush profusely and pretend to go back to whatever I had been working on. When we weren’t distracted by something else, he would sit close to me. And talk endlessly about this, that, or the other thing. The subject of our wedding came up more than once, and I tried hard not to squirm too much during the discussions. Although I didn’t share much during these moments, I was surprised to find myself growing accustomed to his presence... which of course, had been the intent.
The next time his responsibilities took him away from the study, I finished up with Ludde alone. I worked on the assignments he left me and penned a new letter to Morgana for Seoc to send out the next day, glancing at the door every few minutes. Those minutes ticked by into hours, and I began to grow restless with an ache forming in my neck.
I sighed, leaning back and blinking a few times. The words on the page had started to blur together; I just wasn’t understanding any of it anymore. I glanced at the door for the millionth time that hour, but same as all the previous, it remained closed. I shifted in the arm chair, glancing over to the dying fire. Wondering just how late it really was. Judging by my pounding head, I was guessing it was pretty late into the night by now.
Even if the hour hadn’t been so deep into the evening, between the clutter of Grier’s study and the strenuous labor of my latest assignment I was surprised I was still awake at all. I looked about quietly, considering the odds and ends and trinkets spread across the room. It wasn’t the first time the thought came to my mind asking if perhaps he had forgotten he had told me to wait here for him… It was seeming more likely with each passing hour.
Perhaps I should leave, and try to navigate back to my rooms. It wasn’t a super appealing thought considering my skill at getting lost. I sighed again, rubbing at my face with one hand. It was no use, I told myself. I wasn’t about to fall asleep on the couch here. I couldn’t stand the idea of being woken like a child to be led back to my chambers. Better that I at least make an attempt. Perhaps I could find a goblin to assist me. Seoc had already retired for the evening as both of us had been under the assumption the King would be returning to escort me back himself. I shifted and looked around one more time. But there would surely be others, despite the hour.
I shuffled my papers and left them in a neat pile on the marble table and blew out the candles I had been reading by. I had done what I could for the rest of the room; organizing and piling and stacking. My goblinese was still limited to the alphabet and a few simple words, so I didn’t dare sort papers too much. But at least there weren’t scarves strewn about haphazardly, nor inkwells and quills all over the place. I had returned books to shelves or otherwise neatly stacked them, had straightened trinkets and moved the candlesticks into a pattern. Tall silver, short gold, short silver, tall gold, and so on. More intentional. It looked better, if I was being honest, despite the explosion of colors and the amount of clutter that remained… I only hoped Grier would agree. I wrung my hands anxiously at the thought he would be irritated that I had changed his private study to meet my own standards… but then, argued an angry little voice, if he hadn’t wanted you to touch anything, he shouldn’t have forgotten you here. He only had himself to blame, I agreed with the voice.
I made my way over to the door, hesitantly tugging it open and peering out into the hallway beyond. Unfortunately, there was not a soul in sight. I would have to venture further to find assistance. I pulled the door closed behind me as quietly as possible. But which way? I glanced both directions, wracking my brain and trying to at least recall the general direction we took whenever we had left his study previously. Right, I supposed, though I wasn’t certain. I sighed tiredly, glancing around one last time before making my way down the hallway in that direction.
I wandered for far too long, until I had a hard time picking up my tired legs. Originally I followed the hall, listening for sounds and hoping to come upon a friendly goblin face. But the castle was quiet, almost eerily so. I grumbled to myself after the fifth empty passage. There should really be guards posted more frequently; I would bring it up later. I decided it was a mistake to leave the study, and turned to try and make my way back. And ended up in an entirely different part of the castle. Or at least, I was pretty sure I had. The statues and decorations were just as eclectic and scattered down these halls, but nothing looked familiar. Had I taken a wrong turn somewhere? I was pretty sure I had only retraced my footsteps… Maybe it was supposed to be a right at the fork behind me. I must have turned left initially.
I suddenly heard footsteps that weren’t mine, and eagerly tilted my head. Relief washing through me. Around the next corner I came upon their source; a narrow shouldered goblin who seemed to be carrying a crate of supplies. They seemed to be struggling actually, balancing two boxes on top of each other.
“Excuse me!” I called lightly, forcing myself to walk over calmly so as not to startle them.
They turned, and scarlet eyes widened in surprise. She (as I could see now that she turned around) quickly put the crates down and dipped her head respectfully. Her dark brown hair was cropped short on one side and braided on the other, and it fell neatly about long flat ears. She had a small nose with a wide base, and when she chanced a peek up at me, I saw dark green speckles on her round cheeks.
“Apologies, forgive me!” I told her. “I… I seem to be a bit lost. Can you direct me to my quarters? Or perhaps back to the King’s study?”
She straightened a little at my words, and her head tilted to the side. “Eto ochen, mo Onsa.” She replied, and her tone sounded apologetic. I felt my cheeks flush a little as she shook her head. “Non tuig shibalon…”
“Ah.. yes, I see.” I tried not to mumble, and carefully kept my disappointment out of my voice. I recognized ‘eto ochen’. ‘I’m sorry’. And I was certain she had said ‘shiba’, though perhaps I was pulling sounds where there were none. I dug through the rest of my limited reserves of goblinese. “Ah… Korol Grier, ah…” I gestured around, then swallowed hard and dropped my hand. “Eto ochen, cara…”
She giggled, then quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. Bowing low and stammering something quickly. I held up my hands, patting the air before me.
“It’s alright, my fault entirely,” I assured her, and she looked up at me shyly. I tried to soften my look, but wasn’t sure if I succeeded, “I wish I knew a little more… I don’t suppose you can help me?”
The woman tapped her fingers to her lips, a gesture I had come to recognize as the universal sign of a goblin thinking. I waited patiently, hands tucked neatly behind me.
“Tha thu nomerak so’un Korol?” She offered, patting her chest and pointing to me then around the hall. I got the impression she was signing a guiding motion.
I nodded. “Erm, yes… I think. Korol… Grier.” Maybe she knew where he was and could bring me straight to him? Either way, she had said something about the King. And that was better than wandering the halls lost.
She smiled widely, nodding and bounding eagerly on her toes. She glanced over at the crates, patting them and tilting her head to the side. She asked something, gesturing to the crates again, then down the hall.
“Ah, you are… bringing these somewhere? I don’t mind, of course.” I nodded to the crates. “Thank you.”
She glanced at me, then moved to pick up the crates again. I quickly stepped over to help as she staggered under their weight, and took the top one for her. Her eyes went a little wide, and she looked me up and down. Then she smiled, seeming genuinely grateful and wholly awed. I decided that it was a good thing goblins didn’t hide their emotions so well; even if I couldn’t speak with her, I could easily tell what she was thinking.
“Ni pasi, mo Onsa.”
I returned her nod, recognizing her thanks. “Ussta bez.” I replied, and her smile widened. It brought a twinkle to her scarlet eyes.
She jerked her head and led the way down the hall. I followed behind, and our pace was much quicker now that she wasn’t struggling to carry something nearly her own weight. Not far away we came to a short, narrow door, half tucked behind a thick curtain. She waved me to stop, speaking softly, and shouldered it open. It seemed to be a small storage closet, and she walked in, dropping her crate amid some others at the back. She came over and I bent low, passing her mine, which she promptly brought to place with the rest.
She ushered me out, smiling and bobbing excitedly. As the door clicked closed behind her, she nodded and jerked her head. Speaking quickly and happily. She pointed to me, spoke something where the only words I made out again was ‘King’, then led the way down the hall. I followed her, hoping she was actually leading me to Grier, or perhaps his study. I also hoped I had remembered the word for ‘King’ correctly… I wondered if there were any similar words. But she seemed confident, and I was simply grateful not to be wandering alone anymore. The cluttered hallways were a bit ominous by oneself.
“I didn’t get your name,” I told her, keeping my stride short to avoid stepping on her ankles, “Ah...nazain, cara?”
She grinned over her shoulder at me, and spat out a long goblinese sentence. I blinked at her. She chewed her lip, her eyes dancing. “Hausa, mo Onsa.” She amended.
“Hausa?” I echoed, and she nodded excitedly. “That’s a very pretty name… Ni pasi, Hausa… Nazai Nikostratus.”
“Feos, ta non ussta, ussta bez, mo Onsa.” She replied. She stopped, apparently having reached our intended destination, and pointed to a grand doorway beside us. I glanced at it, but it was completely foreign to me. She smiled and nodded. “Nomerak so’un Korol.”
Crap… This was not Grier’s study. Nor, certainly, was it my own rooms. I was positive I had never been to this place before. I looked around, but there was no one else about. No other guards, no servants. Certainly not Hibik or Seoc.
“... Korol Grier?” I asked her tentatively, pointing to the door.
She nodded, grinning. I resisted the urge to chew at the inside of my cheek. Debating what to do. But she seemed so happy, I couldn’t quite bring myself to try and communicate the fact that… I still had no idea where I was. I tried to keep the embarrassment out of my face.
“Ah, Ni pasi, Hausa.” I told her again, careful to keep my tone polite. Dipping my head to her.
She bounced again, her dark hair bobbing on one side. “Non ussta bez, Onsa… Nee-koh-straw-tus.” She sounded out my name carefully, then giggled, bowing so low the ends of her hair brushed the carpeted floor. She gave me a little friendly wave, then darted off.
I waited for her to disappear around the corner before I released a heavy sigh. Well… Hausa had insisted that this door had something to do with Grier… so I supposed it would be alright to attempt to check beyond. Maybe she had meant he was in a meeting here? I strained my ears, trying to see if I could hear anything beyond the intricately carved oak doors. I reached out one hand and touched the pattern, scoffing slightly at the inlaid gold and silver. This door certainly seemed like the door that might lead to Grier; it screamed of his overly flamboyant style. I almost laughed at that thought.
I built up my courage and balled my hand into a fist, knocking lightly. There was no answer, and after a few moments, I tried again. Still no answer. Curiously, I tried the handle, and found it gave readily under my touch, unlocked. The door popped open easily despite its size, and I jumped. Before I could catch it, it slowly swung out of my reach. Revealing the room beyond.
It was large, and lavishly decorated. At first I thought it might be a library, or perhaps a visiting sitting room. The walls were almost entirely shelves, filled with books and scrolls and tomes. They seemed to be spilling off the shelves, along scarves, necklaces, and other long string like things that had been stuffed in the crevices between books. A large couch took up the majority of one side of the room, facing a stone fireplace that filled one wall. The couch was short and deep set, and ridiculously plush. There was also a set of armchairs around a small card table, a long narrow table along the back of the couch, and little round pedestals and tables lining the arms. Of course, nothing matched anything else, and again I was grateful that my charmed eyes did not see the color as lavishly in the dark as in candle light. The floor had at least three different carpets piled on it, and everything everywhere was absolutely covered or filled to bursting with stuff. Globes, bowls, vases, chests, jewelry boxes, glass jars, models, maps, parchment, quills, inkwells, jewels, rings, what I was pretty sure was a crown, sextants, astrolabes, and a whole manner of other things I didn’t have a name for nor the time to properly sort from the rest of the clutter. It spilled over the tables and dripped to the floor into piles at their bases, not dirty or filthy but certainly not organized. There was even an armchair filled with discarded clothing, or at least that was what I assumed it was based upon the errant sleeve, pant leg, or collar I could make out amid the jumble.
Despite this, it was not the overwhelming amount of clutter in the room that had me suddenly frozen in place. It was the smell. As soon as the door swung open, it hit me in a wave and made my heart spin in my chest. The soft scent of parchment and candlewax. The lingering tint of woodsmoke. But overlaying everything else, stronger than I had ever smelled it before (save for perhaps one other source) was the scent of sage and Myrrh. And whatever the indiscernible natural scent of his body that I had come to associate with Grier.
“H-Hello?” I called timidly, then quickly cleared my throat and straightened. Walking a more affirmative step forward. “Hello?” I tried again, more formally. “Is anyone here?”
I half expected the King to burst from behind one of the other doors that lead away from the room. I took a few more steps in, looking around slowly. The door swung on its hinges, rolling towards its frame as soon as I had cleared its arch. It moved on its own, and before I could react, it clunked closed. I wondered if it was enchanted. Based upon the other charms and such I had seen so far in the castle, as well as having seen more of Grier’s forgetful nature over the last few days, it didn’t seem far-fetched. I turned, looking around the room again and giving another quiet call. It seemed this was his foyer, though it was larger than mine, the layout was much the same. Just like the door, I could see his personality abound in each collected bobble and scrap of clutter. The realization that Hausa had assumed when I was looking for the King this was what I meant had me blushing at the edges of my collar. I pulled at my tunic, clearing my throat and looking around carefully. Brushing the thought aside.
I felt strange, standing there, surrounded by not only his things, but the overbearing scent of him. It made my tired head dizzy, as well as other things I briskly ignored, and I shook it quickly. I couldn’t stay here, now that I was certain the rooms were empty. And besides, what if Grier did go back to the study to look for me? If I wasn’t there, would he go to check that I had made it back to my rooms? And when he found those empty as well? I broke into a cold sweat at the thought of alarm bells sounding and a full sweep of the palace and city being conducted for me. I was certain his personal chambers would be one of the last places they checked. And I would be mortified to have caused such a fuss in the first place.
I had made up my mind to leave, and if not wait in the hallway, then to try and find another goblin (perhaps one that spoke Common) when the clunk of the door’s latch dropping had me jumping out of my skin. I spun, eyes shooting wide, flush filling my face.
Relief flooded over top my surprise as I recognized the goblin who stumbled in noisily, and I almost breathed his name out loud. Grier. I started to take a step forward, then stopped. The King hadn’t noticed me, and was staggering about. He knocked over the small side table by the door in his effort to walk over to the assorted pile of clothes on the armchair, and I didn’t need to speak goblinese to know he was heavily cursing in response. My eyebrows shot up as he quickly undid the buttons on his tunic, then loosened the ties and pulled it up over his head. Chucking it to the side.
I took a step back in shock at the sudden sight of his bare torso. His soft, grey-green skin was pulled taut with a healthy vigor over his muscular shoulders and back. I watched it ripple as he moved, digging around the pile of discarded clothes, and my mouth suddenly went quite dry and my pulse ricocheted. My retreat had me bumping into the card table, and I scrambled clumsily to try and catch the candlestick before it toppled over, without success. It crashed to the floor, and Grier spun at the sound.
I thought his eyes might just pop out of his sockets, and he nearly lost his balance entirely at the sight of me. I was certain there would be steam rising from my face, my blood was rushing through it so fast. I straightened so fast my spine protested, squaring my shoulders and trying to look more intentional and confident. And less guilty.
“H-how...H-how??” He finally managed after his mouth flapped uselessly a few times. The goblin tried to cross over to me, but his feet got tangled amid themselves and he barely caught himself on the couch.
I moved without thinking when I saw him stumble. With two quick strides, I was at his side, reaching out as if to catch him. I stopped short, straightening again and rubbing the back of my neck. I realized I was staring a moment later and quickly cleared my throat. Darting my eyes first to the left. Then to the right. Then circumventive around the room. Anywhere but on the shirtless goblin staring up at me with eyes falling out of his head.
“I-I apologize, Your Majesty, I didn’t-”
“Alright, I must have hit my head somewhere.” He mumbled, then slowly straightened himself, swaying slightly. “I lost my balance and passed out. And now I’m dreaming.”
I watched his eyes appraise me unabashed from head to toe. “A-ah, I… I didn’t mean t-to-”
“Or I’m hallucinating.” He amended at my stuttering response. “I felt guilty not going back to get you sooner, and now my conscience has conjured you up in the flesh.”
I didn’t think I could run any hotter. The heat of my cheeks would put a dragon to shame and my ears burned painfully. “N-no, Your Majesty, I’m-”
His hand came out, reaching for mine as if to ascertain the truth of the matter. I jerked away, startled by his movement and nearly squeaked as Grier suddenly toppled forward from over extending himself. I barely had time to react, jumping back towards him as suddenly as I had pulled away and putting my arms out to catch him before he hit the floor. He fell into my chest, and I just barely kept us both upright in my surprise.
We froze like that, and scarlet eyes met mine as Grier slowly craned his neck to look up at me. His fall had him leaning heavily against me, one hand on each arm, his upper torso against my abdomen, his legs haphazardly skewed beneath him. My heart raced a mile a minute in my breast, and I held my breath captive in my throat. Trying not to think too much about the warmth of the skin on the small of his back beneath my palm.
“So…” He breathed. “You really are here…” I watched him blink slowly a few times, confounded. He glanced around, as if not entirely certain where he was, then turned his attention back to me. “What… how did you get here?”
I swallowed hard. “I-I… I was trying to find my way back to my rooms-”
“These are my rooms.” He interrupted, tilting his head to the side. Then he looked around again. “Aren’t they?”
“Y-yes! But, you see, I got lost…” I stammered, then suddenly realized I was still holding him against me. I carefully tried to right him, seeking to put space between us once more to allow my thoughts to have a remote chance of functioning more normally.
“In my rooms?”
“Yes! I-I mean, I mean n-no, I was… I, there was a… a servant. She didn’t speak Common-” He swayed again, but steadied himself with a hand on the back of the couch. I stared at the ground at our feet, trying to completely disregard the wave of intense heat washing through not only my face but the rest of my body as well. “She- ah… there was some… miscommunication I think-”
He laughed, then hiccuped, and I lifted my gaze to look at him in surprise. “Ah well, serendipit-dious then… I was on my way back to you, but I spilled something on my shirt, you see-” He moved to gesture to his torso, then seemed to realize he was in fact shirtless. He blinked stupidly, then looked around. “Ah… I… I meant to change-”
“A-are you alright?” I asked dubiously, somehow managing to get my tongue to work properly in my mouth. I had been so caught up in my own embarrassment I hadn’t realized how much his words were slurred. Not to mention his strange lack of balance.
“Mm?” He was rubbing at the back of his neck, which made his chest muscles flex in a way that had a shiver running down my spine. “Mmm. Oh, ah. Yes, that. This, rather.” He shuffled his feet, then barely caught himself again. “I was… I am afraid I partook in a fair share of liquor with our dear General Damjan…” He laughed lightly again. “The man can drink like a horse, I tell you!”
I stiffened, suddenly praying that perhaps this whole misadventure might be forgotten tomorrow. If only I could make my escape now. “I-I apologize, I would have-”
“Non, halshen Osna mo!” He cried, then stopped, blinking a few times. I stared at him, wide eyed. He gave me a sheepish grin. “Ah… The fault is mine, Nisostraw… Nickosta… My young Prince.” He started to spin quickly on his heel, extending one hand out. “But come! I shall rectify it and escort you to your rooms-”
I had to leap forward to catch him again, hooking my arm under his. I gritted my teeth even as my cheeks throbbed from the blood rushing beneath them. “You are certainly in no state to be going anywhere, Your Majesty.”
He scoffed at me, letting me settle him back on his feet. “Stop calling me that, you handsome fool,” He demanded, trying to push my hands away and nearly losing his balance again in the process, “I am perfectly capable of escorting you to your rooms.”
He began to stride towards the door, purposefully and carefully placing each step before him. “Ah.. Your Majesty-”
“I’m not answering to that!” He called over his shoulder, halfway to the door now.
“Y-your Majesty…” He continued to ignore me. “Grier!” I cried exasperatedly.
Finally he stopped, turning and swaying slightly. A cocky grin on his lips. “Yes, my young Prince?”
I pursed my lips, straightening slowly and fixing my composure as I tucked my hands behind my back. “... You’re still not wearing a shirt.”
“Eh?” He looked down, and his complexion became a little darker. The goblin cleared his throat, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. “... Perhaps you have a point.”
“... It’s alright, I-I’ll figure out the way back.” I reassured him.
He nodded, looking a little disappointed. I moved to walk towards the door, trying to decide exactly what I could do, and not fancying a night wandering the halls. Grier turned to address me as I drew closer, and started to topple to the side once more. I just managed to catch him again, my arm scooping out. Our eyes met, and his mischievous grin returned.
“I seem to keep falling for you, my young Prince.” He murmured teasingly.
My breath caught in my throat and my face burned, but I shook my head to hide it. “...I can’t believe you just said that.”
He laughed, his hand lingering on my arm as I got his feet beneath him once again. “I couldn’t resist, it was too perfect.”
I sighed, glancing at the door, then back to him. “I suppose I-I should get you... settled first. Elsewise you might end up spending the night on the floor.”
His grin turned to a small scowl. “I most certainly would not! I am quite capable of taking care of myself!”
I raised one brow at him. “Say my name, then.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “Nikostrawn… Nack-we.. Neekohstran…”
I took up his elbow, steering him towards the rear chambers. “Nope. Let’s go.”
I ignored his continued protests as well as his still very distracting bare top half as I led him through the sitting room, then towards the door which corresponded to my own bedroom in my quarters. I opened it experimentally, and was pleased to find it was in fact the sleeping chambers. A large bed overflowing with numerous thick, colorful blankets sat in the middle of the back wall. It had a tall canopy overhead, and long draping curtains sloppily tied to the posts. The rest of the room was equally disheveled and I resisted the urge to sigh as we picked our way across the scattered items spilling from pedestals, tables, and shelves onto the floor.
I let him fall face first onto the bed when we reached it, and heard a muffled groan as he did. I placed my hands on my hips, looking around before noticing a pitcher set nearby with a copper chalice beside it. I picked my way over and raised it to my nose. Sloshing it about and sniffing at it experimentally. I poured a bit into the chalice, turning and making my way back over to him. Confident that while I had no idea how long it had been sitting out, this was at least water of some form or another that had at one point been intended for drinking.
I dodged as a boot whizzed past me, and turned with a small scowl forming on my lips. Grier smirked, shrugging, and seeming pleased to have managed to sit right-side up amid the voluminous sheets and wiggling his now bare toes. He took the offered glass, drinking deeply and peering up at me through pale lashes.
“... If you’re settled now?” I pressed, refilling his cup then setting the pitcher on his nightstand. I briskly turned to make my escape.
“Wait!” He caught my arm, kneeling on the mattress precariously to be nearly at my eye level. I stared at his hand, then studied his face. “My head is still spinning… keep me company a while longer?”
His hand was surprisingly strong despite the amount of alcohol I amassed was swirling through his veins, and he tugged on me insistently. I sighed, shaking my head but too tired to resist and allowed him to pull me a little closer. My flush returned, and my heart thundered in my ears as he settled onto his bottom again and patted the edge of the bed beside him. I considered him one last time, then slowly lowered myself to sit in the indicated space. He pulled one knee up, leaning over it and sipping at his water again.
“You are very kind, my young Prince,” He said, smiling at me coyly, “Especially since I left you waiting… it wasn’t my intent.”
I nodded, looking down at my hands on my lap. “What kept you?”
Grier sighed deeply. “Well, first it was a meeting with Lord Notah, who always wants me to try his latest imports. Then I ran into Damjan, who insisted on playing a card game with me and plying me with copious amounts of alcohol.” He chuckled sheepishly. “I lost track of time.”
I frowned slightly, thinking it over. “Understandable, I’m sure. If I had a better head for the castle, it wouldn’t have been an issue… I wouldn’t need to be led about like a child.” I tried not to sound too bitter about it, but wasn’t sure if I succeeded.
He shook his head. “I think it worked out for the better though, no?” He cleared his throat, thumbing his chalice. “Certainly makes for a story.”
Noticing it was nearly empty, I reached for the pitcher, refilling his cup. I belatedly realized as I returned it that the motion had me reaching across his lap, bringing our bodies perilously close together. I blushed, leaning back and rubbing the back of my neck. Grier took a slow sip of the newly refilled water, eyeing me with a look I couldn’t quite place but that had my stomach flipping.
“... Perhaps we can use this time to speak some more?”
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “How do you mean?” I asked dryly, stiffening my jaw warily.
He shifted, chuckling into his cup. “I always have questions about you… how are you finding goblins?” He peered up at me. “Are we very strange to you?”
I thought about that for a moment, rubbing the palm of my hand. “In some ways...”
“What ways are those?” He pressed.
“Ah…” I swallowed hard, hesitant. “... You are very… friendly.”
He laughed. “Friendly? Are humans so cold?”
I shook my head. “Not ‘cold’ per say just… more reserved. More.. subdued.”
“I see. We certainly don’t abide by reserved-ness.” He mused, nodding.
“I-I apologize-”
He waved away my words. “I completely agree. And I find humans equally strange.”
I glanced at him curiously despite myself. “We are?”
He nodded. “Yes! You are an absolute enigma, everything you do is a mystery to me.” He cocked his head to the side. “You also always stand like there is a lance strapped to your spine. Is it so wrong to see that you are actually feeling something?”
I almost laughed, but settled for an embarrassingly casual shrug of my shoulders. “It… I’m not sure…” I looked off to the side. “It was always… frowned upon. Showing emotion… Especially as a Prince…” I stopped, hesitating.
“Why? What’s wrong with having emotions?” I opened my mouth, then closed it. “Just your thoughts.” He reminded me. “No filter. Just speak. Even if you don’t think it makes sense.”
I chewed that over for a minute, frowning slightly. “It’s… it’s seen as a weakness… A lack of control…” I paused again, struggling to understand my life through the eyes of an outsider. I glanced at him, then back down at my hands. “It’s just how it’s always been. You don’t question it…” I rubbed at my palm again. “H-how do goblins see it?”
“Emotions are a part of life,” He replied, leaning over his knee and taking a long sip of his water. “Trying to fight one's emotions would be like trying to control the sea. Sure, during fair weather you might appear be able to, but come the first storm?” He sighed. “Why would humans try to deny such a large part of themselves?”
“It’s... it’s just how it’s always been... We’re not so good at accepting changes…” I mumbled honestly, “Especially things deemed unusual or … different...”
There was silence for a long moment. My neck itched to look up at him, but I couldn’t quite manage. I sighed deeply after a while, straightening and shaking my head.
“It is late. I should be going-”
I stopped short as his hand caught my arm again. “You can hardly be expected to find your rooms on your own. And it’s clear I can’t bring you...” He pointed out, and I stared down at the way his green skin seemed all the more vibrant against my pale sleeve. “Why not just… stay? Besides, I feel like I never get to see you anymore.” He quickly changed the subject as I started to stiffen at his suggestion.
“See me?” I echoed, surprised. “We’ve hardly been apart.”
“Well, yes, but… not alone like this.” He fumbled with his drink, then gave me a lopsided smile. “I had hoped to charm another kiss out of you tonight.”
I swallowed hard, and my eyes dropped back to my lap. “O-Oh….”
My common sense told me to leave. To say good evening and make my way out. What did it matter how late it was, or how unlikely it was that I would ever find my rooms on my own? I couldn’t help the old voice at the back of my mind screaming about how improper it was to be sitting alone with him in his bed… Another part of me… a quieter part, becoming louder by the minute… wanted to see what would happen if I did stay. Perhaps if I hadn’t already been so tired, my will to resist that second voice would have been stronger. Perhaps if I hadn’t felt myself in a heavy fog made of exhaustion and embarrassment, my lifetime of proper etiquette might have won out… As it was...
“... Perhaps I might tell you how handsome you are again,” Grier continued tentatively, when I made no further move to leave, “... And how I can’t stop thinking about the way you kissed me outside your rooms…” I blushed profusely and shifted restlessly. “.... Or maybe I could… perhaps recite you some goblinese poetry? If that’s something you’d like.” He offered, and I felt him roll his thumb up and down my arm. “... And talk about how I dream of the day I won’t have to ask... I will just know exactly what I need to do or say to make you smile.”
I looked at his hand again. As my eyes fell on it, he gently squeezed my arm, then ran it down the length to my own hand. I didn’t even think; my wrist rotated, and he slid his palm over mine. I swallowed hard, trying to force my heart out of my throat and back into my chest where it belonged.
“... Is it working yet?”
“A-ah...I… I-I should…” I stammered uselessly.
I could hear his grin lacing his next words. “Well, I’ve gotten you flustered… That’s a start.” He traced his thin fingers up and down the lines of my palm. “... Can I ask you something?” I nodded numbly. “... Are you scared of me?”
I started slightly, my eyes jumping to his face in confusion. I met his ruby reds, watching me hesitantly. But his question seemed sincere, not teasing. I thought about it for a moment, then looked back at our hands.
“... No. Not… Well… Not of you...” I stopped, swallowing hard again. “I suppose… I am a little afraid of… umm…” He slowly continued to stroke up and down my palm soothingly. “I-I… I am… I am scared of… of… “ I sucked in a tight breath, and found that my hands shook. Grier’s fingers quickly wrapped themselves between mine, squeezing gently. “... Of getting hurt again…”
“... Again?” He breathed. But I pursed my lips, shaking my head. I couldn’t… I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t even think about it. He brought our hands to his chest, pressing the back of mine against his heart. “... I won’t hurt you… I can’t hurt you…” I managed to bring my eyes back to his. “Gods above, I-I can’t even begin to express…” His other hand came up, trailing along the collar of my tunic, skimming along the soft underside of my neck. “You are… so wonderfully... wonderful…” He laughed. “I think I got the better end of our bargain.” I shook my head, trying to look away, but he caught my cheek against his palm. “... Stay with me?”
My breath hitched. “... You’re drunk…”
He shrugged. “And if you try to leave now who knows where you’ll end up…. So just stay… stay here safe with me.”
I glanced over. “Perhaps the couch-”
“Here with me.” He said firmly, then quickly added; “Just to sleep.” After his promise his mischievous grin returned. “I’m far too besotted to try anything untoward… your virtue is safe, my young Prince.”
I choked on a laugh in my throat and shook my head. “I-it’s not exactly appropriate-”
He scoffed, squeezing my hand gently, still clasped to his bare chest. “I am King! I decide what’s ‘appropriate’.” His grin grew. “Besides, it’s not like we’d be crowded.”
I glanced over our shoulders at it, my heart thrumming in my ears, my breath quivering in my throat. “... I’m not sure why you have such a large bed… when you are so small.” I replied dryly.
Grier laughed loudly, rolling to his knees. The motion brought him precariously close, and my eyes widened as he kneeled on the bed next to me. I even had to tilt my head back slightly to look up at him. He skimmed the fingertips of his free hand along the edge of my jaw, the other still trapped against his breast, and I saw his scarlet eyes grow dangerously hot. I felt my blood rush, and tried to reconcile with the face that my tongue was suddenly far too large for my mouth.
“I can assure you... I am anything but small.”
I nearly knocked him off the bed as I jumped out of it, yanking my hand back from him and stumbling over my own feet as I scrambled to get them beneath me. I spun, facing him as if he might lunge after me, my hands raised defensively. I scrambled back a few steps and nearly fell over one of his boots. The goblin himself barely managed to catch himself at the edge of the bed, and stared at me in surprise as my face lit on fire and my eyes nearly popped out of my skull.
“Y-you...I-I-I don’t, We-ah, y-you, I-I mean uh, I mean-th-that’s not-” I tried unsuccessfully half a dozen times to form a sentence, and found my lips wholly inept for the task. Not to mention my mouth felt drier than a desert, and there was a frustrating large lump in my throat in the shape of my heart. My stomach flipped and twisted and a cold sweat broke out at the back of my neck.
Grier swung his legs out, staggering from the bed himself. Hands up, apologetic crooked smile in place. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to ah… startle you so…” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m afraid I got a bit carried away with the banter.”
I clamped my mouth shut, cringing and clasping my hands behind my back. Berating myself for my lost composure over a few simple words, but my head spun. I shook it, trying to level myself, yet felt my mind absolutely rioting with the notion. I felt my lips move, felt my tongue form shapes. But as my jaw refused to open, the sounds were chopped off at the source and I merely stood with my eyes darting wildly about. Looking for anything else to focus on other than the goblin standing in front of me.
“Well, while we are on the subject...” He began, putting his hands on his hips and looking me up and down. “What is it with humans and sex?” I nearly squeaked at the word. “Why are you so skittish about even hinting at it?”
I stammered and sputtered, then clamped my mouth shut again. It was no use. My lips and tongue just could not seem to coordinate with each other. I shook my head vehemently, opening my mouth then promptly closing it. Grier looked more amused than annoyed, and his fingers drummed on his hips. It seemed he wasn’t meaning to tease though, and was genuinely asking. I tried to take comfort in that, but found it not particularly possible.
“... Is it because you consider it… unclean perhaps?” He offered, and I swallowed hard. “Or do humans not find the same pleasure in it?” He frowned thoughtfully at that. “I would hope that is not the case.”
I shook my head, felt my mouth drop back open. A few sounds came out, and I cleared my throat. “I-it… it’s just… umm” I shifted and dropped my gaze to the floor. “I-it’s just… n-not… not talked about.”
“But why?” He pressed, taking a few steps closer.
I swallowed hard again, then cleared my throat. Stiffening as he swayed another pace. “We… I … Umm…” I shuffled again, eyes darting about, “It’s … I suppose we… ah… it’s… shameful… I guess…”
“Shameful?” He echoed, sounding confused. “Why?”
“Ah… um… Well, because… ah…” I was almost shaking, but somehow managed to remain on my feet. “It’s… vulgar and… personal… and… because it…. Umm… Feels good…” I dropped into barely above a whisper at the end.
One slender brow raised. “You don’t talk about sex… because it’s shameful to do so… and it’s shameful… because it feels good?” His smile returned. “That makes no sense! What’s wrong with feeling good?”
It was a valid point, and I tried to focus on the philosophy of his question rather than the subject. Even as my mind provided copious amounts of related but very distracting thoughts on the matter. My eyes still darted about, and seeing this he had stopped his approach with a safe few strides still between us. Letting me calm myself once more.
“I-I’m… I’m not sure… Maybe… Maybe because… ah…” I dropped off and reached a shaking hand to rub at the back of my neck. “Well… we make ourselves feel guilty for… for enjoying ourselves… For indulging in… ”
He gave a deep ‘hmmm’ as I dropped off, rubbing at his face. His head tilted to the side, his hair falling wildly about him. “I suppose it would go along with how you never seem willing to be even remotely self-indulgent, and constantly feel the need to apologize for yourself.” I must have flinched because he quickly raised his hands. “It’s ok! I don’t mind… I just hope you realize you don’t have anything to apologize for… Especially if it makes you happy...”
I gave a small nod, settling my eyes off to the side again. We stood quietly for a moment, the tension trailing heavy fingers between us. I didn’t dare check to see if he was staring at me, in case our eyes accidentally met. My face was still flushed hot, and my collar itched from sweat.
“It’s late. I can barely stand anymore…” He said finally, his voice gentle, “If you want to sleep on the couch… I don’t mind… I want you to be comfortable... But…” He hesitated, “I would be happier if you felt safe enough to join me in my bed.” When I glanced at him out the corner of my eye, he gave me a small, wry grin. “I promise I’ll behave myself.”
I sighed, rubbing at the back of my neck again, still twitchy. It was late, and I was teetering on the edge of collapse myself. Not to mention the spasms in my chest from our conversation.
“... I’m not sure you’re capable of behaving yourself…” I muttered, perhaps a little grumpier than I intended, shuffling yet again.
His laugh was warming, and I felt a little tension ease with the sound of it. I peeked at him again, and his sharp toothed grin had my heart rate spiking. “Well, if you’d rather, perhaps I should sleep on the couch,” His lips twitched, “... Since I’m smaller.”
A soft, nervous laugh petered from my own lips, shaking and brief. But it made his grin grow even wider. I stiffened, glancing around again. Trying to sort through my own thoughts.
“...That wouldn’t be fair to kick you out of your own bed…” I mumbled.
“So does this mean I’ve convinced you?” He asked, playing for innocence. I lifted my eyes, watching him take a few ungraceful steps back and sit on the edge of the bed again.
“... I should probably just go back to my own rooms…” I replied, though my resolve sounded weak even to my own ears.
His chin bobbed lightly. “Should. Maybe. .. But will you?”
I hesitated again, and he slid back further into the bed, gesturing gently with one hand. I studied it, shifting from foot to foot. He waited patiently. I looked over his shoulder at the bed, and suddenly felt so very heavy and tired. My back ached, and my legs quivered beneath my weight. I blinked, remembering how good it felt to sleep.
My feet moved of their own accord, slowly, haltingly. Carrying me over to the side of the bed. Grier watched quietly as I slipped off my boots and slowly sat on the edge of the mattress. The hair on the back of my neck tingled, feeling his eyes. My fingers felt numb as I clumsily undid the buttons of my vest, then let it slide off.
When I turned, he was sliding back to the head of the far side of the bed. Pushing aside the blankets and shuffling down into them. I swallowed my nerves, scooching back myself and slowly pulling my legs up. I hesitated, my hand pulling at the starch collar of my tunic. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me without my shirt before, a small part of me reasoned. And while my trousers were comfortable enough to sleep in, I would be hard pressed to find a comfortable position with the tunic... My hands came up while my boldness lingered, reaching over my shoulders and tugging the fabric over my head. Goosebumps trailed over my skin as I gently folded the tunic and placed it on the bedside stand. I quietly lay down with my back to him, stiff as a board.
I felt the mattress shift, and turned my head slightly to see him sliding closer out of the corner of my eye just before his hands slowly rolled over the bare skin of my shoulders. I froze, my breath faltering as his warm palms traced lightly down my back, then up. Gently, his hands came up, cupping into the curve of my shoulder and giving a light tug. I obediently rolled to my back, letting out a shuddering sigh as my shoulders hit the soft blankets. Grier’s head was on the pillow next to mine, and I watched him quietly. His hand came to my chin, skimming his fingertips with a feather soft touch along my jaw. Lightly turning it to face him properly as he trailed them over its length, then following the curve of my neck. His fingers rose and fell with the lump in my throat as I swallowed nervously.
I watched his face, even as his scarlet eyes seemed to be tracing over the rest of mine. I watched his attention move down the length of my neck, his fingers mirroring his gaze, then across my collarbone. Coming to a rest on my sternum. His eyes flicked up to meet mine then, and I searched them hesitantly. They were filled with warmth, and a tenderness that made my heart skip. I wondered if he could feel the missed beat beneath his fingertips. He shifted a little closer, and sighed deeply. I could see him slowly relaxing, and somehow… the sight had me relaxing too.
Grier traced his index finger up and down first my sternum, then my collarbone. It was entrancing, and I felt myself relax incrementally more with his soothing touch. His lids drooped lazily, but his eyes remained stubbornly open. Moving from my face to watch my chest rise and fall with whisperingly shy little breaths. I was stuck watching those scarlet eyes, the way he blinked languidly every few minutes, each one a little heavier than the last. I memorized the way his wild strands of wheat hued locks fell haphazardly across his forehead and heavy brow, with a few long strands trickling past his ear and down his neck. I considered the shape of the edge of his jaw, and the relaxed curl of his lips.
I didn’t realize I was staring with my mouth slightly parted until his hand came back up, cupping my chin. I closed my lips, but couldn’t keep my gaze from flicking to his. I turned, rolling onto my side to better face him. He closed the gap left by my movement, leaving only a ghost of space between us. Whenever he breathed his skin brushed against mine, and I shivered at the sensation. His hand trailed back down, over my shoulder, and I moved my arm beneath his touch. Flexing the muscles so that as his hand skimmed its length to mine, I could turn it and feel the pads of his fingers whisper against my own. He glanced down at our hands, then rebounded and traced his way back up my arm to my shoulder. My own hand lingered where he had left it between us, then slowly reached out. Flattening against his own shoulder.
He was so warm… And his skin was firm, with a texture as if almost beveled, but barely discernible. I brushed my palm over the crook of his neck, lingering for a moment with my thumb on the apple of his throat. His eyes closed fully as I continued up, cupping the sharp edge of his jaw against my palm. I stared for a moment, the way his grey-green skin seemed more vibrant against mine, the way my own color seemed warmer… I slid closer, leaning over and running my hand back to bury my fingers in the thick mess of hair at the base of his skull.
He parted his lips slightly as I pressed mine to them, and I relished the faint hint of liquor lingering there. I felt his breath flutter against me, and felt my own eyes droop shut. His hand lingered on my chest, his thumb tracing thoughtfully small circles. I felt his mouth open against mine, and responded in turn, reaching out tentatively with my tongue to dance around the tip of his. I could almost hear the click in his jaw as he opened it more, straining closer, and deeper. I welcomed his tongue, feeling it trace around the inside of my mouth. It was longer than mine, which could barely reach the edge of his front teeth. I lightly flicked it at the points of his incisors, curious, but felt heat growing in my core as his tongue skimmed my molars and the side of my cheeks.
Grier pulled away a little then, his tongue slipping back. I was surprised to find myself following him, unwilling to part yet. Wanting to keep the taste of him longer. His sharp teeth pricked my bottom lip as he bit it gently to still my pursuit and a breathy gasp escaped me before I could catch it. He sprung forward at the sound, like a predator unable to resist the fleeing prey, locking our mouths back together. His hand slid up my chest, scooping the back of my neck and pressing me fervently against him. Suddenly tasting less of liquor and more of hunger, hot and burning in my mouth. And I drank deep of his craving, feeding my own as I slid closer, pressing our bodies together. His arm pinned against the bed came up to catch my neck and hold me against him, freeing his other to roam down to my waist. I could feel the muscles of his arm flex against me as his fingers gripped at my side, then grabbed at the small of my back. His own smaller body writhing against mine.
All too suddenly, he pulled us apart again, shaking himself. I found myself winded and breathy, my eyes reluctantly opening and releasing me from whatever spell I had fallen under.
“I promised I would behave myself.” He breathed, and I nearly leaned in to catch those words directly from his lips with my own.
A shiver ran down my spine as his scarlet eyes flicked up to meet mine. “.... I don’t think you’re doing a good job proving that...”
He laughed lightly, pressing his hand firmly into the small of my back. I barely managed to keep my breath from shuddering with that, and was glad when he rolled it back to the relative safety of my shoulder.
“You can hardly plead innocence.” He murmured, his thumb coming across my lips. “I swear… your lips are like a drug…”
I would have turned away to hide from the implication of his words, but held still beneath his touch for a moment. Letting him trace back and forth over the features of my face. I let my hand trail from the thicket of his hair to his ear, thumbing the gems piercing the cartilage there.
“... Since I’m misbehaving already…” He mused, then straightened, propping himself on one elbow to look down at me. I eyed him warily. “...I’m dying to know. Then I swear I’ll leave you alone for the night.... Have you ever…?”
He let the question hang, and I felt the blood quickly rush to my face as I realized his intent. I shifted, letting my hand slide down to rest on his collarbone. Swallowing hard.
“.... Once.” I mumbled uncomfortably.
He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “...With another man?” I nodded, not meeting his gaze. “... I thought humans…?”
I shook my head. “No… not… not openly.” A shaky sigh evaded my defenses, and I felt him lean a little closer, rubbing his thumb against me gently. “It was… I had thought…”
I dropped off, my voice broken, and he didn’t pry. I felt his lips against my temple, and my eyelids drooped. Feeling strangely comforted by the touch, especially as his hand came up to caress my cheek. I turned into his palm, and breathed in the scent of him. Not that I had lost it once since I had come to his chambers… the place was heavy with his presence. I let myself be completely enveloped in it, closing my eyes again.
“... I’ve had many lovers,” He confessed softly against my ear, “Men and women.”
I nodded slowly. “I know.”
Grier pulled away and I felt him settle back onto the pillow beside me. “... Does it bother you?”
“No.” I didn’t even have to pause to think about that, opening my eyes to meet his.
He studied me for a moment, and saw his lips twitch. “I’m… a little surprised. I thought you might be … off put. Being that I have lain with both...”
“... Would you want to take a... a lover?”
I felt his hand at my cheek tighten, and he vehemently shook his head. “No. Not anymore…” His touch gentled, and his eyes grew softer. “Just you…”
“Then it doesn’t bother me.”
He smiled, running his hand down to trace his thumb along my lips. I watched his scarlet eyes study them for a moment. “... Would you?”
I shook my head, feeling his hand move with it. “... Just you.”
He nodded, his smile growing. “That… makes me very happy…” He shifted, glancing away. “I’ve never… well… I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face… And I’m not the type to just…” He glanced back at me sheepishly, “Suffice it to say, I had those who were willing stay and keep me company for some time. And I enjoyed each relationship… But…” He shifted again, hiding beneath his wild hair. “They’ve never… I have never…” The goblin hesitated, and I waited patiently, curious despite myself. “... This feels different.” He stared at my chest, running his fingertips slowly over the edges of my muscles. “This feels… better.”
I tucked my fingers back into the deep locks of his hair. My head swirled and felt thick with exhaustion. But I nodded back sleepily. “...It does.”
Grier shifted closer, tucking his face against my neck. I would have stiffened in surprise, but could already feel sleep tugging insistently at my senses. And gods, he was just so wonderfully warm…
…..
The knocking roused me. I would have sat bolt upright, but was weighed down by the goblin who had apparently entangled himself with me. His arms wrapped as far around me as they could reach, his legs folded and half tucked between mine. Curled to bury his head deep into my torso. I stared at him in shock, trying to get my bearings, then jumped as the knocking sounded again.
“Your- ah…. G-Grier,” I hissed softly, not quite sure what to do with my hands now that I was awake and letting them extend awkwardly out in front of me. The knock came again, and I craned my neck as if I would be able to see who was at the door. “Grier!” I said, more insistently.
A grumble answered me, and to my horror the King merely burrowed deeper against my bare chest. I almost sighed exasperatedly, but jumped in a near panic as the knock came again. Sounding much more urgent this time. My face burned at the thought of being discovered like this; entangled in the bedsheets with … well, he was my betrothed. By human standards, it would be outright scandalous. But… I wasn’t sure if the goblins would care… or if I did anymore, for that matter...
At the fifth knock, louder than the previous, I could stand it no more. I untangled myself from Grier, pushing his hands away as he tried to wrap himself back around me. Like prickle vines, where you free yourself from one and find another attached. As soon as I managed to mostly free myself though, he gave another grumbling sound and rolled back over. Embedding his face into the pillows. I shook my head, scrambling to my feet and over to the foyer. Nearly tripping over his clutter as I did. I scowled at it, glancing back over my shoulder. But the King seemed unperturbed by the final knock, nor by my escape from his clutches. Blissfully unaware and happily burrowed into his bed.
I hesitated momentarily with my hand on the door. Debated simply hiding somewhere and hoping whomever was on the other side knew the King well enough to either give up or just enter. And then hopefully I would remain unnoticed and be able to sneak back to my chambers… I sighed, shaking my head. Yanking the door open before I could lose my nerve.
If Hibik was surprised that I was the one who answered the door, he did a good job of hiding it. He gave me a quick polite bow, and I carefully kept my torso screened by the door.
“Your Highness, there are visitors waiting on the main floor.”
I blinked, a bit confused. “For Gri-Ah, I mean, the King?”
He shook his head, glancing nervously about. “For both of you… They are emissaries of the human court.”
I stiffened, my mind suddenly racing. Emissaries? Here? I had received no word… It was highly unorthodox for us to send people unannounced. Unless.. unless there was some sort of emergency, where there was no time to send word ahead...
“Did they say why?”
He shook his head. “No, Your Highness. They would speak only with you and the King.”
Dread filled my chest, and I nodded to him in a daze. My head spun like a top and numbness was tingling at the ends of my extremities. I glanced over my shoulder. Debating if I had time to go back to my chambers. It pained me that the first thought was not to run to speak with them, but to compose myself. Lest my people think less of me. I was forced to make myself presentable before I could deal with whatever urgent business they had. I gritted my teeth at the ridiculousness of it, my stomach somersaulting as the possibilities raced through my head.
“Send Seoc with some fresh clothes for me, if you please, then see to our guests,” I told him, my voice tight, “I’ll… try to wake the King.”
Hibik gave me a sympathetic look. “Yes, Your Highness. Of course.” He bowed his head, then darted off.
I closed the door behind him, a cloud settling around my head and nerves wrapping tighter around my stomach. After a delayed moment, I turned and picked my way back to the bedroom.
“...Your Majesty?” I called, lingering in the doorway. Suddenly almost afraid to pass the threshold. But he didn’t answer. “... Grier.” I tried, a little louder.
A grunt this time. I waited, thinking there would be more. When nothing followed, I gritted my teeth, and forced myself across the room. Still in a haze. I stopped at the edge of the bed, looking down at his bare back, half buried in the blankets.
“Y-....G-Grier.” I said again. When he didn’t answer, I even went so far as to reach out and touch his shoulder lightly. “Grier… There are emissaries here to see us.”
He shifted, and I stepped back, thinking he was about to sit up. But he just rolled a little, then heaved a sigh and settled into the mattress again. I pushed his shoulder more forcefully, starting to get a little frustrated. And more than a little apprehensive. My thoughts still racing, my heart thundering in my ears. He grunted, and even swatted my hand away.
“Gr-”
“I don’t care. Tell them to come back later.” His grumpy voice was thick with sleep and muffled beneath the pillows.
My hands were shaking now, and I shoved him again. “Grier!” I demanded, and cut myself short when I choked over the end of his name.
Red eyes emerged sharply from somewhere amid the blankets at the break in my voice, eyebrows arched above. I must have forgotten to clear the emotion threatening to swallow me from my face, because whatever he saw there had him quickly sitting up. My mouth opened to speak, but even before I could he was before me. Kneeling at the edge of the bed and cupping my face in his palms.
“What’s the matter??”
The surprise and alarm in his voice hurt, breaking my composure even more, and I brought shaking hands up to catch his wrists. If I had thought to pull his hands away, I would have struggled; he kept his grip like iron, though somehow still gentle. I found I didn’t have the strength to remove them anyways; emotionally or physically. I would have shook my head, but he held me still. My lips flapped uselessly for a second and I looked everywhere but his face.
“... The emissaries are from the human court.” I told him, and knew more than a little of my distress leaked into my tone. I swallowed hard and clenched my jaw. I looked down, trying to shake my head again but captured by his strong hands. “... They didn’t send word… Something… Something must be wrong-”
“Ok. It’s ok.” He ran his thumbs under my eyes, and I finally dared to look up at him. The sight of his scarlet eyes, warm and comforting, soothed me, and I managed to take a shuddering breath. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Ok? We’ll be alright.”
I was beginning to shake in my rising panic. “... Do you think... What if something… “ My voice broke again. My lips moved, trying to find the words I didn’t have the strength to speak.
Grier rested his forehead against mine, and I felt his breath splash against my cheeks. “Morgana is fine.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to swallow my heart before it choked me. “I’m sure of it. Everything will be fine.”
“I should have kept her with me.” I snapped, anger mixing with my fear. “I should have brought her here, damn that bloody…” I stopped, letting out a sharp breath. “I swear… if anything happened to her…”
He shook his head. “We’ll bring her here.” He promised. “We’ll keep her safe. But this may not be about her.” He rubbed his palm gently against my jaw. “Let’s see why they are here. Then we’ll go from there, ok?”
I hesitated, then nodded slowly. Feeling my panic begin to subside. “Y-you’re right… I’m sorry I-I-”
“Don’t apologize.” He ordered, sitting back on his ankles. “I’m here for you. In whatever capacity you need me.” A teasing smile split his lips. “Even if it is too damn early.”
I was too anxious to laugh, but felt a little better for his words. I jumped at the light knock at the door. “That’ll be Seoc; I sent for some fresh clothes.”
Grier nodded. “Let me get dressed too. Then we’ll go see what they want.”
I returned his nod, composing myself and striding quickly over to the door. Within the half hour, we were both dressed and following Seoc down to the lower levels. I fretted with the hem of my vest, tugging it straight more than once as we moved. Impatient and anxious but carefully building up the steel mask and stiff shoulders. I noticed Grier shooting me looks out the corners of his eyes, but couldn’t bear to return one. One emotional upheaval at a time, I reasoned. I felt numb, as if I was walking through a dizzying fog, and none of this was real. Dread dug cold fingers into my spine, dragging me down.
Hibik was waiting, and opened the door ahead of us, bowing low as we passed then pulling it closed. I stiffened as the latch clunked, resisting the urge to scowl at the sight that greeted me in the small private side room off the main hall. It certainly didn’t lessen the tension in my spine.
“Sir Gareth.” I greeted him flatly as he turned to face me, a small scowl on his own face. And was for once pleased that formalities required a cold edge. “And by whose authority do you dare come unannounced-”
“By mine.” Came another voice, deep and powerful, from the second occupant of the room who had his cowl pulled low to obscure his face where he sat by the fire.
I almost took a step back, barely managing to keep my eyes from widening in surprise at the familiar voice as the man stood. He swept his hood back, revealing fair skin and neatly short-cropped gold-blonde hair set atop a squared face. His gaze flicked to Grier briefly before meeting mine. And it was my own eyes that stared back at me, or more… our father’s eyes.
“Crown Prince Valerianus...” I breathed, forgetting myself for a moment in my shock.
My older brother nodded to me tightly. “Prince Nikostratus.” His brow became dark, and he squared his shoulders, tucking his hands behind his back. “... We need to talk.”
....
UPDATE: Part eight is HERE
#Royal Flush#goblin romance#monster boyfriend#monster lover#monster husband#monster royalty#monster romance#goblin king#goblin lover#goblin husband#arranged marriage#mlm#male x male#monster x male#monster x human#terato#slow burn#exophilia#angst#oc#update#citrus
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Start Over - Imagine Dragons - Sakuatsu One Shot
Okay HI GUYS so first post
(wow how cool)
I wanted to do a little writing exercise and shuffle a playlist I really enjoy and then write for characters based on the song. So, Start Over by Imagine Dragons was my first song <3 here’s a link to the song!! https://open.spotify.com/track/2Iug43iQrHN8CbGsUd2tEt?si=CrDSFtEpRKe1UkYojJwWiQ&dl_branch=1
This is just going to be a quick one shot because I can only listen to a song on repeat so many times before wanting to scream, so it stops whenever I get annoyed of the song :) ig this is angst with like a good ending? IDEK HAHA BUT ENJOY!!
oh and there is a bit of language in this? :,D also I didn’t edit this because I didn’t have time to so my apologies for unintentional grammar mistakes and misspellings! :,>
The plane was filled with hardly any noise at all, but in Atsumu’s mind there was a storm of noise, emotion, and words. So many words. Words he was told, words he said, words he shouldn’t have said, words he should have said.
Actions. Ones he did take, ones he didn’t take, all of them ran through his mind faster than the plane was soaring in the air. The silence around him felt entirely deafening, and there was nothing he could do in this moment but sit there and replay the memories of the past night.
He was more than aware that he had royally messed up. Sakusa Kyoomi had informed him of that. Yet, his own ego rendered him completely blind the moment he heard such words.
“You care so much about appearances, yet you refuse to work on your own. Becoming a better version of yourself on the court is something you’re more than willing to do, but outside of that? Where the public eye is blind to? Well, so are you.”
Those words replayed countless times, echoing off walls and coming back to him. It was all he could think about. How he had done Omi wrong, and how all he wanted to do was fix their situation.
However, that wasn’t exactly possible in the present situation.
Miya Atsumu was on an airplane with no cell service, and he would be stuck there for multiple hours. It felt like hell, having to sit there for so long with his own thoughts and the words that he heard last night. The words that were true. Then again, it wasn’t all a bad thing that he had to reflect on the situation.
Sakusa Kiyoomi was also left alone with his own thoughts, emotions, the words that were spoken last night. This odd feeling of the presence and absence of regret plagued him in his isolation. He knew that what he said needed to get to Atsumu in some way.
Lately, the setter had been so concerned with who he was on the court that he had forgotten to examine his character off the court. Of course, this led to mistakes, apologies, more mistakes, more apologies, an endless cycle of hurting those around him, and Sakusa left alone many nights in which he shouldn’t have been. The pain he felt wasn’t sharp, however. It was more of a dull, emotionless pain that caused him to feel somewhat repulsed.
“Ya shouldn’t be hangin’ around someone who makes you feel like trash, right? So, I’ll do the honors and kindly fuck off for a while. See how ya like it, Omi.” He still was dumbfounded by those words. He knew Miya to be someone who would sometimes speak first without fully evaluating how it would effect the other party, but he didn’t realize just what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of those comments.
Sakusa and Atsumu had a relatively healthy relationship. Of course, they had their disagreements, but there had never been an explicit moment in which Sakusa could remember that Miya would have the chance to lash out so harshly.
That’s a good thing, at least. It’s only happened once. He thought.
But, how long until it happens again?
Omi felt his heart sink and he sighed, trying not to think too much about that right now.
What if there isn’t an “again”?
---
Again. A word Sakusa didn’t seem to be fond of in the recent weeks. Atsumu had always made the same mistakes, again. He had always been out too late with other people, again. He had always come home the next morning, again. Apologized, again. Said he’s never do it, again.
But now, the word had new meaning. If there was no again for Atsumu to hurt him, would that mean that he had moved on? Would that mean his leaving was final and there wouldn’t be any risk to get hurt again?
There was always a risk to get hurt. Sakusa knew that full well. And, he knew there was a risk to get hurt repeatedly. However, if there was no risk, that meant there was no Atsumu. While he didn’t like risk, he didn’t like the idea of never being able to say “I love you,” again to his best friend.
Miya Atsumu had been gone for a couple weeks for training in another country. He had been so far, and yet all he wanted to do was go back home to the people he cared about.
He had messed up so many times. He had his “fall” and realized he sure as hell didn’t like how lonely it was on the bottom. The people he had neglected to care about recently weren’t there, and everything that came along with promise was so far from that. He didn’t want to be there and longer, and knew he had to change his habits and lifestyle outside of the court to better himself and lend more towards those he truly cared for.
One of those people being Sakusa Kiyoomi.
God, I need to call him before my flight back home, was all he could think. He was sitting in the airport with less than 5 minutes until he was to board. I have time, he thought.
He grabbed his phone and dialed Sakusa’s number by instinct. Omi <3 read the contact. He hesitated only slightly. Maybe this is better to settle in person. A phone call isn’t the best way to discuss this, especially when I only have so much time.
He sucked in a deep breath. There was no way he could do this properly
“But, I hafta at least try.”
One ring.
Two rings.
Three.
Damn, Omi, pick up...
Four
Five.
“Hello?” He heard at last.
“OMI!” Atsumu practically shouted in the middle of the air port. People turned their heads towards him dramatically, some looking aggravated, some confused, some about to laugh. He didn’t care. The noise in his mind had already been that loud, so he had hardly noticed the stark contrast when he spoke at such a loud volume.
“Ow, okay, no need to shout. It’s a phone call, I’m right here. Why did you call?” Omi said monotonously. Atsumu felt a cold shiver run down his spine, and all at once he wanted to hit the large red button on his phone screen and pretend he never called and their argument never happened and everything was okay. However, that would get them nowhere. That’s not what Atsumu wanted.
“Heya, uhm, I don’t exacly have a lot of time?”
“Mm. Figures.”
“But all I’ve been able ta think about lately is how ya were so right.”
Sakusa Kiyoomi wished he had been recording this call, because he might not ever hear those words again. Before, it was always ‘I was wrong,’ never, ‘you were right.’
“And I’ve been treatin’ like so much less than ya deserve. Yer one of my favorite people, Omi, and I have don’t nothin to show that ta ya.”
Silence for the first time in two weeks.
“I wanna do better by ya. And, I don’t have a lot of time ta get into details because I board the plane shortly... and I don’t expect an immediate answer from ya, but, can try again?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t push your luck, you heard me the first time. Get home safely.”
“Oh. And, of course, we can talk more about it later and everything, because I still have a lot ta say and I wanna hear what you hafta say too because what you wanna say is important to me an-”
“Miya?”
“Yes?” he sucked in a breath, holding it in the absence of conversation.
A pause.
“Get home safely. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Yeah, you got it. Me too.”
“Goodbye. See you soon.” A beep.
“Bye, Omi. Cya soon.”
#sakuatsu#oneshot#haikyuu#unedited#sakusa#sakusa kiyoomi#atsumu miya#miya atsumu#haikyu#haikyuu fanfiction#angst#idk what i'm doing honestly#but i'm kind of proud of this ngl#maybe i should do this more often#or maybe it will never happen again#good luck trying to figure it out#haha ty for reading <3#Spotify
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Hi so heads up I did give this prompt to @yourheartonfire (who responded) and previously other blogs (that haven’t) and I thought it would be cool to see your twist on it too since you enjoy writing medieval and stuff.
This one is long and complicated though so buckle up. But basically it’s a Sleeping Beauty retelling but the protag is Aurora’s ace younger sister and it takes place after the fairytale. Aurora’s sister was raised to be the perfect and pragmatic queen but then Aurora (who is very sweet just doesn’t have a royal education) returns and starts accidentally creating court and political problems since she doesn’t know court etiquette and war strategy and stuff. So then Aurora’s sister has to find solutions but subtly as to not create drama.
Also I’d be rlly happy if you somehow include a scene mentioning the sister’s asexuality. I recognize this is medieval era vibes and therefore a little more difficult to talk about “modern” ideas so you can leave it out especially if doesn’t fit the scene lol
I just like seeing different writing styles and interpretations of prompts. Also I’m so sorry that this is long and specific and complicated. Feel free to change the prompt to fit your vision!
I love that you asked multiple writeblrs this; that’s so cool! Glad I could be a part of it! I did mention asexuality a small bit, but I wanted to add really quickly that asexuality is different for all aces. There’s a spectrum of us actually. I just wanted to clarify because I could only represent one, of course, and it’s the one that I understand most closely as it’s the one I experience myself. Alright, on with it! (Also, Lumen means ‘the light’ in Latin!)
******
Lumen ran a hand through her knotted hair as she watched herself in her vanity mirror. A comb might have untangled it more easily, and it would have been encouraged by just about anyone in the palace, but it wasn’t the knots that mattered at all. Lumen was stressed, and stress led to clenched fists in ratty hair.
It was exciting to get the older princess, Aurora, back. Even when she became Queen, Lumen didn’t mind at all. The kingdom held a glorious coronation with many delicate desserts, beautiful curtains which hadn’t seen daylight in ages, and patterns that were temporarily painted along the ballroom walls and floors to tell the very story of Aurora. It was beautiful, and Lumen felt a swell of pride in her older sister for going through such hardships and still being willing to put her name and face out there for all to know and see.
But the pride Lumen felt was dwindling. Aurora was still incredible- still beautiful, kind, gracious, and all the like…but she was a poor queen. She was overly kind, overly giving, overly positive. Lumen hated to think that way, but it was true. Aurora acted without thought of consequence.
A door opened as Lumen continued to look herself in the mirror. There were pockets forming under her eyes. Not only this, they were becoming dark.
With a sigh, Lumen pulled her hand out of her hair, letting it thunk on the desk in front of her. She looked to her right where the door was and saw her husband standing there in the doorway with raised brows.
“You let your hair down,” he noted. “And you are in your nightgown.”
“I’m tired,” Lumen returned simply.
Her husband stepped into the room, easing the door shut behind him before walking to the princess. He laid his arms on her either shoulder and hugged her while she titled her head back to rest against his chest. “If you are tired, you should sleep. You haven’t allowed yourself real rest since your sister came home.” He kissed the top of her head and backed away into the centre of their chambers.
“I slept well the first night.”
Peeling his shirt off, the previous king said, “You know that is not enough.” He tossed his shirt to the side of the bed and moved on to his pants before grabbing a pair of bed shorts. “I know you are worried, but your sister has advisors. I’m sure they can straighten things out.” Even he didn’t sound like he believed it was a solution.
Lumen stood from her vanity and walked to the bed post near her husband as he finished pulling up his shorts. “Nicholas, they only advise her. They cannot stop her ruling, and everything she has ruled so far is just going to drive this kingdom into the ground.” She plopped on the edge of the bed, putting her head in her hands, elbows on her knees. It wasn’t very lady-like, but she didn’t care. She didn’t think Nicholas did either, thankfully.
“Have you ever tried talking to her?” He sat next to her, a hand on her back.
“Not right now,” Lumen said first and shifted until his hand fell away. As her stress was building up, she just wanted to be left to her own. Not emotionally- she needed to dump that part out- but bodily. Comforting touches weren’t all that comforting. Holding hands, sure. A kiss on the head, sure. But beyond that, specifically…delicate touches…Lumen just…didn’t really want it. Not at any point, but especially when she was aggravated.
When Nicholas hugged the princess earlier, she only allowed it because she could tell it’s what he wanted. Even after two years together, he was still adjusting to Lumen’s wants and needs. Maybe she should have corrected it then- he would have retreated- but if it made Nicholas comfortable, Lumen didn’t mind it occasionally. She just wasn’t one for physical affection. Verbal affirmations were nice; she liked those. She liked encouragement. She didn’t find any amount of comfort in touching. It didn’t take any problems away and it wasn’t entirely necessary. It wasn’t completely appalling, but it also wasn’t actively sought after.
“I spoke to her today, about how her order against the lords was a bad idea.” Lumen scooted herself back onto the bed, and then until her back met the headboard of hers and Nicholas’ bed. “I agree that the lords have too much. Some of them are greedy and have way more than they, or their children, will ever need. I have more money and food than what I could ever need. I have voluntarily given those masses away to those who needed it, but not all the lords will. And you cannot force them to! That is how you get uprisings. That is how you get underground alliances between angry lords and other dastardly kingdoms. That is how surprise attacks happen and”- she sniffed- “and I explained all of this to her, Nicholas. She doesn’t get it. I love her, and I want to support her, but she is going about all of this so wrong.”
“You could try drawing her a picture.”
Lumen gave a small laugh, but then said quietly, “That was a rude comment to make, Your Majesty.”
He smiled at her, slid himself on the bed beside her. “Not ‘Majesty’ anymore, my sweet.”
“Maybe not in this kingdom, but I’m allowed to call you my king.”
The conversation turned serious again as Nicholas asked, “What are you going to do about the turmoil which is your sister?”
Lumen thought with eyes closed and her head against the headboard of their bed. She began shaking the latter. “I don’t know. It is not in my place to make demands of her and simply suggesting things to her doesn’t work. I have no idea what could ever fix what she is doing. I just…I wish she would have waited to become Queen. I think it’s great that she is one; she deserves it, but…”
“But she was not ready for it.”
She nodded, opening her eyes again. Sniffled once more. “The only thing I could do is undermine her orders, but I don’t know how to do that, and I”- Lumen sighed- “I will feel so awfully about it.”
“You will feel awfully about saving the kingdom?”
“Well when you say it like that, it makes it sound perfectly okay, but Nicholas, Aurora is my sister. I can’t just- just sneak about her kingdom and-”
“But it is your kingdom, too, love. It is everyone who lives here’s kingdom. By making the decisions she is making, she is putting all of us at risk. Some of the orders she has declared for the armies and cavalry are ridiculous. It’s jeopardizing us all.” Nicholas continued. “If she is not listening to anyone, I wouldn’t blame a single person for intervening. If you do not do it, someone else will, just as you said, and I’m sure it will be less pleasant than if you did.”
Lumen gave a soft sigh, “I know. I want to try talking to her again tomorrow, though, and if that doesn’t work, then I will take more- um- discreet action.”
“Good. I think that will be good. Just do me a favour, my queen?”
She looked to him, waiting.
“Remember you are doing this for her, too. You shouldn’t feel bad for going behind her back when it is only to help her. I have brothers and sisters. I have an idea of how you feel, but you are not harming her, okay?”
Lumen nodded. “Okay.”
**
“Aurora?”
“Hm?” The queen turned her head over her shoulder, but quickly turned back to make sure the water didn’t boil over. “Oh! Your hair looks lovely today. I didn’t get a look at the dress, but I am sure you are beautiful in it, too. I am making food for the servants. They have been working so hard to clean the ballroom and have hardly had a break. I thought it might be nice to-”
“Aurora!” Lumen shouted. She felt bad about interrupting her sister, but she also knew this was the only way to make her stop talking. Aurora was just so excited and passionate about everything she talked about. It was a nice trait to have sometimes, but Lumen needed to talk to her right now. “I know you think that what you are doing is great- and it is! But, Aurora, I was raised to be a queen and in that, I was taught the innerworkings of the courts. You are a very kind-hearted person, and it isn’t awful that you are that way, but you can’t…Aurora, are you listening?”
The queen was bobbing her head back and forth, humming some sort of tune. Every now and then, she’d mutter a few words. “I know you,” she’d sing, “I walked with you- hm hm hmmm hm hmm.”
Lumen grunted in annoyance. “I really need you to listen to me, Aurora.” Nothing. No response.
That’s it. Lumen shook her head, and without saying another word, walked out of the kitchens, leaving her sister to hum and sing whatever song it was. The queen became distracted easily. Everything reminded her of something else somehow, and it often happened at the most inconvenient of times. Like right now. This was Aurora’s last chance before Lumen would take things into her own hands, and now she was.
**
Lumen started by taking Nicholas’ valuable possessions- rings and jewels and the sort- without him noticing. She was caught the first few times. It was a quick realization that stealing was easier when the victim wasn’t present. But Lumen worked on just about every case scenario so that she could better her newly discovered skills.
She would become a thief for now; a quiet and stealthy thief who stole from the poor and gave to the overly wealthy if only to appease them and stop a secret war that would undoubtfully endow if Lumen didn’t do this. Since Aurora wouldn’t revoke the new orders she made, this was the only choice- to become an inverse Robin Hood.
Later, the former queen would travel to other kingdoms- disguised, of course- and hire people to smuggle in weapons for her kingdom’s army since Aurora was on a crazy, kind-minded rampage that involved getting rid of all the armies’ weapons, therefore making the kingdom defenseless. While she was gone, Nicholas would cover for Lumen, saying both she and he were sick and that servants should have very limited contact with either of them. It would keep Aurora from realizing her sister was gone.
The kingdom needed great maintaining. Aurora was a lovely person, and Lumen still felt guilty for doing any of this behind her sister’s back, but it was necessary. The queen was ruining the kingdom with kindness- something that shouldn’t have been possible, however it very much was- and now Lumen had to fix it. Maybe she wasn’t queen anymore, but that didn’t mean she would cease her pursuit in taking care of her people.
Death was always terrible, but it was worse when it came with destruction and cries of mercy in war than in poor families and smelly streets.
#request fill#prompt fill#medieval#medieval writing#royalty#political conflict#fairtytale#fairytale retelling#this was such a cool idea and I loved it!
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I Refuse to be a Named Character Pt 6
Hey Everyone I’m back! New job has definitely kicked my butt, but I’m kicking back! I’m going to try to write more and maybe post smaller updates in the meantime! So probably another part or two to finish off this tale!
Master post linked here!
Enjoy!
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“The others are fighting for all the advantages they can get prior to the first party tonight.”
The masked servant knelt on the cold floor without any sign of discomfort, reporting in a dispassionate tone. His master sat on the windowsill, staring out into the gardens, a single finger tracing patterns in the condensation on the glass.
“How many keys do my brothers control?” Luke’s voice was cold, as if he didn’t care much about the answer that every nobleman in the city would give all their possessions to know.
“None. Prince Graham’s mother has bought over some relations of the third, fifth and eighth Lords, and Prince Fetter has been blackmailing every servant in the city, but the Ten Lords themselves have not given their loyalties to any prince.“
“Holding out for the highest price?” Luke sneered, his eyes searching the gardens as he spoke. “I can’t imagine those greedy old men having any notions of loyalty or fairness.”
The servant bowed his head silently.
“So it will actually depend on the three parties? My father should be pleased that his final test will be carried out so well.”
“… Your Highness?” The servant hesitated a long moment before finally speaking up. “Why are you participating in this ridiculous trial? It’s a complete farce! With your forces…”
“It is none of your concern.” The chill in his voice seemed to freeze the air between them.
“…Very well, Your Highness.”
“She still sees something worthwhile in me.” He muttered quietly. “I won’t betray that.” His eyes caught a glimpse of a figure walking along one of the garden’s pathways through the glass, and his gaze softened, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
“If there’s nothing else, let’s end it here.”
“…” The masked servant didn’t move, staying in his kneeling position. Although his expression couldn’t be seen, his discomfort could be felt as he fidgeted in place. As the silence dragged on, Luke reluctantly looked away from the person in the gardens, turning towards the masked man with a frown.
“What is it? Something important?”
“I’m… not sure.” The man’s brows knitted together. “It’s a little… unusual more than anything.”
Luke waved a hand. “Well? Go ahead.”
“There’s been a… movement? A religion?” He shook his head. “Perhaps ‘cult’ would best describe it… spreading amongst the servants and craftsman in the capital.”
“I see.” Luke raised an eyebrow. “And why is this my concern?”
“Well, partly because the majority of your servants have taken part… but also because of its source.” The servant looked away from the prince’s gaze, uncomfortable. “You see… it’s a peculiar belief system, that states that by casting off one’s name and identity, one can avoid the deadly trouble and world and live a happy life.”
“…” Staring at the kneeling man for a few stunned moments, Luke couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh loudly. “How many have joined this cult?”
“Well… it began with just a handful among the areas she lived in… but it seems to have spread like a wildfire.”
“Of course.” A grinned tugged at the prince’s lips. “She can’t help but draw you in.”
“Your Highness…”
“Leave it be, unless you judge there’s any danger to her.” He turned back to the window, a finger tracing over the glass outlining the person in question. “Go make sure all my forces stand ready in case something goes wrong.”
“Yes, Milord.” With a brief nod, the masked man quietly exited, leaving Luke alone.
“I’ll play by the rules while I can, but I won’t let you get hurt.”
He whispered a name, so quietly even he could barely hear it.
________________________________
“So you���re saying that in our story, all important characters are doomed to die bloody, violent deaths?” The servant girl stared up at me with an awed expression, making me slightly uncomfortable.
“All except the main hero and main villain, yes.” I nodded my head slowly.
“And that’s why you don’t have a name?” The young man next to her smiled with understanding.
I hesitated at his expression, but finally answered slowly. “Yes. I’m just an unimportant, nameless side character. Fading into the background.”
“A nameless side character.” The small group of servants repeated reverently after me, their eyes bright and excited.
“…”
Something’s… off. When I had originally been asked by one of the servant’s in Luke’s quarters why I didn’t have a name, I hadn’t thought much of it. Without mentioning the “transported into a book world” bit, I had explained my theory that all important characters died terribly.
It had apparently struck a nerve.
Ever since that day, that servant had been bringing small groups to talk to me, sometimes up to several times a day. They all seemed eager to listen, despite my increasingly wary replies. Even stranger, I had noticed that the servants in the household no longer called each other by name.
What is going on?
“There you are!” A pleasant voice called out, interrupting my uncomfortable musings.
“Luke!” I turned with a smile, waving goodbye to the group I had been talking to earlier.
“He has a name…”
“Fool! His Highness is a main character!”
I thought I heard some muttering behind me, but right then Luke reached out, grabbing my hand and distracting me.
“Having fun starting a new religion?”
“Pardon?” I cocked my head to the side, confused. He stared at me for a few moments before laughing, the delighted sound making me grin back .
“Never mind, as long as you’re happy.” He squeezed my hand gently. “Ready for the party tonight?”
“I’m going?” The thought made me nervous. It would be the final trial, so all the princes would be there. Fetter… Graham… I swallowed uncomfortably. I hadn’t seen Graham or his mother since our last run in, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Who else would be willing to stand by my side?”
“And you… you’re participating?” I couldn’t help but ask; feeling confused. In the book his character hadn’t taken part in the parties at all, simply attacking the city at the night of the third party instead and trying to take the throne by force. It had been a vicious, bloody attack, every horrifying detail described. It was the final straw that made me unable to finish the fourth book Chloe had lent me.
Now I wished I had finished it despite how awful it was to read. I don’t even know what happened to Luke after the attack on Western City. Was he successful? Had he gotten hurt? Anxiety pierced my chest at the thought. He was so different from his character in Deadly Crown, but I wasn’t sure if it would help or hurt him.
How much have I changed the story?
Luke pulled me over to sit next to him on one of the benches in the garden. “It’s true, I don’t have the strongest political skills… that’s Fetter. And I don’t have a large base of support… that’s Graham. It seems like a hopeless cause.” Despite his depressing words however, he was smiling brightly at me.
“Then why are you so happy?”
“Because you’re by my side.” He chuckled. “Winning isn’t important. We just need to stay alive, and then once they no longer see me as a threat, you and I can go live a life of obscurity in the woods together.” He paused, thinking it over. “Or the desert, if you like, since Blade has named you her successor.”
I shook my head, ignoring the outlandish statement at the end to focus on the point of his words. “So you don’t want the crown?” My tone held some disbelief as I studied his eyes. If he truly never wanted the throne, he could have abdicated at the very start.
Luke didn’t look away, meeting my gaze head on. “I did once.” He admitted it openly, his smile sad. “But it was never for me. It was for my mother.”
“Your mother.” That surprised me. The book had never mentioned her.
“She was from the desert. She and Blade grew up together, but while Blade is a fierce warrior… my mother was the opposite.” He stared down at the ground, a bitter expression taking over his face. “She was kind, loving… far too trusting to be a woman in the Royal Court.”
I pulled his hand into my lap, holding it between my two hands. It was cold, despite the warmer temperature in the garden around us.
“She loved the king, despite his faults, his many women… his cold nature.” Luke’s eyes closed slowly, hiding the pain I could see in his eyes. “The man cares for no one but himself, but she gave her heart to him. She always hoped that he and I would get along, but I was only ever a disappointment to His Majesty.” He laughed softly, but it was not a happy sound.
“How…?” The question I wanted to ask died on my lips, I couldn’t say the words. I didn’t want to force him to remember, to make him hurt anymore than he already was. But even though I stopped myself, he understood what I wanted to know. Taking a deep breath, he continued to speak, his tone flat, as if discussing a long forgotten history, or the weather, rather than the death of his only family member.
“Poison. I still don’t know who did it. Plenty of people with reason to. My mother was beautiful, favored by the King more than most of the other woman who had born him children. She died slowly, fading away in front of me into skin and bones, and there was nothing I could do. But no matter how much it must have hurt her, she continued to smile, to hope I would live happily without hatred or fear.” His voice cracked towards the end, his eyelashes damp from the tears he was trying to hold back.
I reached out, hugging him tightly, and slowly he lowered his head, resting it on my shoulder. His ragged breath felt warm on my neck as he slowly regained his calm. “So you decided to win the crown to avenge her?”
I felt him nod at my words. “They threw me into the Ninth Lord’s household after her death, beat me, cursed me, humiliated me. A useless prince with no backing. But I didn’t give up. I was going to take everything they wanted. The crown, the country, their power and wealth… I would crush it with my own two hands.” His tone was dark.
“I had planned it out. Get their guard down by participating in the first two trials, and strike while they are fighting and squabbling for power in the final party. Even if only one of them was the one who murdered my mother, they all stood by and watched, seeing it as one less opponent to fight with rather than the death of an innocent woman. I was going to kill them all.”
And he had… or at least he had tried in the book. I licked my lips nervously, stammering out my next question. “Umm… Are you still going to do that?”
He lifted his head, his tear stained gaze meeting my own. “Would you hate me if I did?”
“Hate?” I didn’t want him to be a villain. I was horrified still at the thought of him becoming a merciless killer like I had read about before. But even so, I couldn’t help but smile at him. “I can’t hate you. If you choose to turn against this world… I’ll fight them all with you.”
Maybe I’m the real villain in this story.
A hand reached out and brushed the hair away from my eyes. “I don’t want to see you fight the world for me. So win or lose… I’ll play this game until the end.”
I breathed a small sigh of relief, separating from him and standing up, brushing the dirt from my dress. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” His whisper could barely be heard, “That’s only as long as I can keep you safe. If they try to hurt you…”
I met his gaze, seeing a darkness that I didn’t recognize there. “Luke?”
He sighed, standing up and hugging me briefly, before turning back towards the castle. “Let’s get ready for the party.”
________________________________
By the time the first party started I was already mentally exhausted. Before we had even left, there was a brief fight over what I would wear. My initial suggestion of wearing camouflage and hiding in the bushes was vetoed, not only by Luke, but the entire service staff. Luke’s suggestion of a purple gown, the color only worn by royalty or those married to royalty was also rejected. We went back and forth a few times before deciding on a low key but expensive gown.
As I walked in a few steps behind Luke, I stared down at my ball gown. It was a little too fancy for a nameless side character, which made me nervous, but looking around at the other women in the room, I felt slightly relieved. Bright colors, large gems and very low necklines seemed to be in style. The dark green color of my gown was less eye-catching, but reminded me of my previous hunting gear, with a high collar open only at the throat, where a simple silver star necklace lay. The sleeves were long and loose, the skirt billowing out but less voluminous then those around me, the style choices allowing me unrestricted movement.
It wasn’t a bad compromise.
As I looked around the room, I realized that the room had separated into groups, each centered around an older man or woman wearing a red sash with a golden key attached.
The Ten Lords.
Now that I was looking at them in person, the plot, which had evaded my memory in the past years suddenly, was more clear. In the book, Graham had used the knowledge gained from all his followers he had saved along the way to sway the Lords to his side. Each girl he had rescued, who was desperately in love with him, conveniently knew how to convince one of the Lords.
At the time, it had irritated me. I thought it was the author’s way of explaining why Graham’s harem and terrible treatment of the girls who cared for him was necessary. But now…
I knew exactly what to say to get the Lord’s on Luke’s side.
Feeling excited, I started walking towards the first group, only to be stopped by a gentle tug on my hand.
“Luke?”
At my questioning glance, he bowed with a bright smile. “May I have this dance?”
“Sure.” Fortunately the dances in this world were fairly simple, not unlike a waltz back in my old life. Finally that ballroom class I took comes in handy! As we danced, we settled into an easy rhythm, and I cast a worried look around the room.
“Shouldn’t we be… you know…”
Luke chuckled. “Scheming?”
“Yes!”
He shook his head. “It’s only the first party. They’ll use this one to feel us out, see what cards we’re holding. If we’re too eager, they’ll be less likely to side with us in the end.”
“… If I told you, I knew exactly what each of the Lords wanted in exchange for their key, would you believe me?” I felt nervous. Graham believed that Chloe and I had psychic or prophetic powers, which was easier to explain then the concept of living in the world of a fantasy book series, but I had never used the knowledge in front of Luke openly before.
Luke’s gaze was serious as he continued to lead me through the dance. “I believe you.”
“Aren’t you going to ask how I know?” A girl who had been trapped as a slave in the Ninth Lord’s household, and then spent years in the forest hunting. How could I explain my intricate knowledge of the Ten Lord’s motivations?
I could just tell him the truth.
Even as I considered that tempting, terrifying option, he shook his head slowly.
“I don’t need to know.” Seeing my confusion, he added. “You’re allowed to have secrets.”
“But…”
“So relax during the first party, and we’ll figure out recruiting the Lords in tomorrow night’s event.
The song ended, and Luke stepped away with a small bow. I curtsied in return, but as I straightened up, someone had stepped between us with a wide smile.
“I claim the next dance.”
Graham.
________________________________
Luke shook his head, reaching out to pull him away. “Don’t think about it.”
“Careful, brother,” Evading his grasp, Graham stepped closer to me, grabbing my arm. “If you make a scene here over a woman, it will be hard to gather support from the Lords.”
Luke rolled his eyes at the warning. “Like I care about that. Now let go…”
“It’s fine.” At my words, both men turned towards me, confused. I smiled at Luke, trying to reassure him. “It’s just a dance.”
“Are you sure?” Luke’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his brother’s hand which was holding on to me.
“Wait for me.” Pulling my arm from Graham’s grasp, I positioned myself across from him, a much more formal distance than what I had danced with Luke. “Your Highness?”
Graham frowned, but took my hands and began to lead. “Why are you treating me so coldly?”
“… Are you an idiot?” I stared at him as we danced. “You do remember that you tried to drug me last time we met?”
“Only because I love you so much.” His gaze was intense, with more than a little obsession brewing within. It was uncomfortable to face. “And I didn’t succeed, anyways. You drugged me in the end, so actually you owe me.”
I stepped on his foot. Hard. “I owe you nothing. So let’s pretend we don’t know each other.”
“Don’t fight the inevitable, Darling.” His smile widened. “We’re destined to be together.”
Is this the confidence of the main hero of a story? I remembered that in the book he had innumerable women falling in love with him. Perhaps it had messed with his head? Realizing it would be impossible to convince him through logic, I stayed silent, hoping for the dance to end. Unfortunately, Graham kept talking, and was difficult to ignore.
“After the third party, I’ll have the token back, we can announce our engagement then.”
“Don’t be delusional.” I stepped on his foot again, smiling as he winced with pain. “We’re not even friends, much less in a relationship.”
“You’re mine.”
“I’m no one’s. And you have at least eight women who would love to marry you.”
His hands tightened on my own, the grip painful. “I don’t want them.”
“And I don’t want you.” I shrugged. “That’s life.”
“Do you want my brother?” He tried to pull me closer, but I stopped on his foot hard enough to stop the motion.
Yes. “It’s not any of your business who I want.”
“Fine.” He snarled. “I’ll become King, and then you’ll have to listen.”
The song ended, and I gave a sigh of relief. Graham kept holding onto my hands, despite my less than subtle attempts to pull them free. Just as I was considering a more drastic escape strategy, which would involve kneeing him in the testicles, a voice interrupted our silent struggle.
“Brother, how good to see again! How about we trade partners for the next dance?”
I looked over to see an unfamiliar smiling face. He was obviously younger, at most seventeen or eighteen years old, his golden hair and green eyes similar to Graham. But his face was more angular, giving him a sharp, severe look, and his eyes seemed to roam around the room, stopping seemingly at random as he assessed everything before him. I felt his gaze crawl over me, and shuddered with disgust at the delighted light in his eyes.
There’s something wrong with this man.
“Fetter, what are you…?” Graham started to question him, but trailed off in shock as he saw the man’s partner. A very familiar woman.
“Hello, Your Highness.” Chloe, dressed in a long, purple gown, smiled sweetly at him.
“Chloe, you joined Fetter’s side?” I was shocked. As far as I knew, she had disliked that character in Deadly Crown, obsessed over Graham instead.
At my question she shot be a glare, before recovering her expression. “I happened to get lost in the castle, and Prince Fetter was kind enough to offer to escort me.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Graham. “Shall we dance, Prince Graham?”
I watched, shaking my head as Graham took her hand slowly, studying her dress with a cold expression
He might be an obsessed, egotistical prick, but he’s not an idiot. Graham had been involved in intrigue since he was a small child. His mother was a scheming force to be reckoned with. Did Chloe really think he would trust her once she had shown support for Fetter?
“Let’s dance.” As i thought it over, Fetter took advantage of my distraction, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the center of the room, ignoring Graham’s look of anger at his gesture.
________________________________
The music started up again and we began to dance.
“You don’t seem excited.”
“Why wouldn’t I be excited?” I answered in a flat tone. “I get to dance with all three princes today. I’m honored beyond all expression.”
Fetter smiled, the expression making my skin crawl. “Between dancing with the princes in a beautiful ball gown and drinking poison…?”
I thought it over. “I guess it depends on the poison. There are a few that might rank lower than this.”
“I see it.” He laughed. “I wondered why they were so desperate. But I see it now.” He leaned closer. “It’s your eyes. We’ve grown up crooked thanks to that worthless old man on the throne, never knowing what it would be like to have someone treat us as people instead of a tool to be used. Your eyes are refreshingly free of greed and desire. It’s almost as if you have no expectations from this world.”
I followed his lead silently. He was right. I didn’t have any expectations. This world was nothing but a nightmare for me, with the exception of Blade and Luke. I honestly wasn’t sure how I had gotten here, and if or when I would return. “Your point?” After a long silence, I asked coldly.
“My brothers covet that in you. Want to preserve it, or at least steal it away and hoard it for their own.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “And what do you want?”
“Me?” His smile grew vicious. “I want to destroy it. Break you into a thousand pieces, and watch them cry as they try to put you back together, only to break you again.”
My blood ran cold. “You’re insane.”
“We all are crazy, darling. Each and every one of us in the Royal family. Our father wanted it that way.” He shrugged as he danced. “Even your precious Lucien hides his own madness deep down so as not to scare you off. I’m just the most honest about it.”
Stepping away, I ignored the fact that the dance hadn’t ended, I ignored the political implications and the gossip that would be spoke about an unknown woman rudely interrupting her dance with a prince. My mind, my body, my entire being was overwhelmingly consumed by a single need.
To get away from him.
I felt it strongly. A sense of danger. A certainty of death. It hung over Fetter like a cloud, and the longer I stood next to him the more certain I was that I would not escape. I walked quickly, not noticing the mix of concerned and angry stares, until a familiar hand reached out and grabbed my own, startling me.
“Are you okay?” Luke’s face was pale as he studied my own, he looked over at Fetter and I saw hatred flare up deep within his gaze.
We all are crazy.
I shook my head silently.
“We’ll leave early.” Pulling me along, I was surprised, barely able to keep up with his pace.
“But the test...”
“It doesn’t matter.” He didn’t hesitate as he walked away. “None of it does.”
As we moved along, I heard Luke add under his breath. “As long as you’re okay.”
Feeling warm, I squeezed his hand in return, following him back to his rooms.
________________________________
We sat down, in the dark and silent rooms, facing each other. The rooms were cold with the evening chill, the only light from the moonlight streaming in from the window. But it was enough light to see Luke’s face.
He watched me, his expression concerned, his eyes studying every inch of my features as if to etch them into his memory. There was a hint of panic in his gaze, one hand clutched tightly at his chest as he watched me, as if he was worried that I would disappear the second he looked away.
“Should we run away?” He asked quietly, his voice serious.
“Would they let us?”
“…” He leaned his head forward, laughing bitterly. “This late in the game? They’d be more likely to have us hunt down for fear it was part of a scheme.”
“Then why would you ask?”
Luke stared at me in silence for a few moments, the pain and panic becoming more clear with each passing second. “I don’t want to lose you. I won’t let them even have the chance.”
Even your precious Lucien hides his own madness deep down so as not to scare you off.
I couldn’t escape the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. Remembering Graham’s obsessed words, Fetter’s undisguised violence… I shuddered, and reached out to hold his hand.
He was shaking. I held his hand between both of mine, feeling him slowly calm down.
I had run away tonight. I was still afraid of dying. Of being involved in the plot too much. But I wasn’t going to run away again.
I took a deep breath, letting it out in a long, tired sigh. “We need to talk, Luke.”
He blinked. “About what?”
“About how I got here, why I know so much, and why I refuse to have a name… it will sound crazy. You may not believe me.” I swallowed uncomfortably. “But I think it’s the key to surviving all this madness. Winning the crown if that’s what you want. But... If…after… you want me to leave, I’ll understand.”
“...”
After a brief silence Luke smiled, the expression startling clear despite the fear I could still see in his eyes. “Nothing could be crazy enough for me to want that.”
I didn’t smile back. “Then I’ll tell you about a story… called ‘Deadly Crown.’”
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