Reminded again of how much I love the conversation with Shadowheart you can have at the tiefling party if you've already made plans with someone else. The offer for wine is still there but if you say "Just wine?" she concedes, "Just wine. I wouldn't want to keep you...well, maybe I would" and pours you some for "liquid courage." Like, that's literally my bestie right there

Flamey-O

fic request from @shrinkthisviolet: Aang-centric fic with the prompt “Rough day? Can I make it better?” 

(Lavi I love and appreciate you and I hope you’re okay with me using my Flamey-O Noodles hc as a springboard for this fic but if you’re not just say the word and I’ll write you something different) 

fic under the cut!

Aang was sulking in their room when Katara walked in. 

“Rough day?” she asked. Aang nodded, and she sat down beside him. “Can I make it better?” 

“Can you make ‘flameo hotman’ accepted modern Fire Nation slang?” Aang muttered. 

Katara frowned. “I’m sorry, what?” 

Aang pouted. “Okay, so Zuko invited me to go to that meeting with the Fire Nation council, right? Well, when I got there, I introduced myself and said ‘flameo, hotmen!’ And they all just stared at me like I’d grown a second head.”

Katara rubbed his shoulders. “So you’re upset because ‘flameo, hotman’ isn’t catching on?” 

“It’s real Fire Nation slang!” Aang insisted. “Or at least it was, a hundred and twenty years ago. I don’t know why it fell out of fashion.” 

Katara shrugged. “It’s been a long time, Aang. Sometimes things die out.” 

Aang stared at her with wide eyes. “Do you think...” He took a deep breath. “Do you think maybe things that die out can come back?” 

Katara wasn’t entirely sure what the real question was, never mind what the actual right answer to it could be. But she nodded. “If it’s meant to come back, it will.” She squeezed his hand. “We thought the Avatar was gone forever, and then we found you.” 

Aang smiled and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Katara. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, smiling back. 

___________________________________________________________________

That night, Aang lay awake, thinking about the past. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him; the first few weeks traveling with Sokka and Katara, he’d barely slept, thinking about how everything and everyone he knew was gone, and he was alone in a world that didn’t understand him. But he wasn’t alone, and he never had been. Sokka and Katara had made sure of that, and then Suki, and then Toph, and Zuko. 

Zuko. 

Flameo. 

He remembered it clear as day. The monks had just told him that he was the Avatar, and they wanted him to train in etiquette so that he could meet with dignitaries from other nations. Aang didn’t really understand what more he needed to learn, considering he had friends from all over the world, but the monks had insisted. So there he was, reciting from an etiquette book while Monk Gyatso made a pot of Aang’s favorite noodles. 

“A popular informal greeting among Fire Nation citizens is ‘flameo, hotman.’“ Aang giggled. “That one’s good. I’ve got to use that on Kuzon next time I see him.” 

Monk Gyatso scooped up the noodles and vegetables and put half a hard-boiled egg on top of Aang’s plate, with the other half on top of his own. “I like that one too,” he said, handing Aang his noodles. “I had an old friend, when I was just about your age, who really enjoyed that greeting.” 

“Were they Fire Nation?” Aang asked, his mouth full of noodles and vegetables. 

“Eat slower, Aang. Savor your food. And yes, he was Fire Nation” Gyatso said, a little sadly. “He came to stay with us for a while, and we became great friends.” 

Aang shoveled more of Gyatso’s noodles in his mouth. Spirits, this is so good. “Gyatso,” Aang asked. “When we’re done with the lesson, can you teach me how to make noodles?” 

Gyatso laughed. “Not exactly the most necessary skill for a young Avatar.” 

“Well, what if the Earth King wants a good meal? I want to have something to make for him,” he said. “Come on, please? I’ll be good, I promise.” 

Gyatso looked at Aang fondly. “You already are good, Aang. You always have been.” He rubbed Aang’s head affectionately. “i think you know quite enough about how to talk to foreign dignitaries. Come on, let’s make some noodles.” 

So Gyatso took Aang through the steps of making the noodles: making a well in the flour to put the eggs and water in, mixing it with his hands, kneading them, rolling them out, slicing them. Gyatso cut up some more vegetables while Aang was slicing the noodles, and they put all the ingredients in a pot to boil for a couple minutes. When it was done, Gyatso gave them each second and third helpings. 

“Flameo, hotman,” Gyatso said slyly. 

Aang grinned. “Flameo.” 

Katara snored beside him, snapping him out of his memory. The moon hung high in the sky, and Aang could practically feel Yue scolding him, telling him it was long past time to go to bed. He turned on his side, trying to clear his mind. And then he turned again, and again. But nothing worked. 

Finally, he sat up. He wanted noodles. 

It had been over a century since that day, but Aang still remembered. His technique was a little clumsier than Gyatso’s had been, but it was a simple recipe nonetheless. He hummed as he chopped up his vegetables and sliced the dough into noodles, before tossing all of it in a pot and waiting for it to boil. 

As he set the pot over the fire, he saw Katara, groaning as she rubbed her eyes. “Aang, what are you doing?” 

He smiled at her. “I’m making noodles.”

She frowned at him. “In the middle of the night?” 

“I just--” He sighed. “I’m sorry for waking you up, but I, um.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I wanted noodles.” 

Katara rubbed at her eyes, and smiled blearily at him. “Can I have some?”

So Aang pulled out two bowls, one for him, and one for Katara, and scooped some noodles and vegetables into both of their bowls. He sliced a hard-boiled egg in half, putting one half in his noodles, the other half in Katara’s, and set the bowl in front of her. 

She raised an eyebrow. “All right, let’s see if these middle of the night noodles are any good.” 

She gingerly ate a little bit, and her eyes went wide. “Tui and La,” she breathed. 

“What?” Aang asked. “Do you like them?” 

“Do I like them? Do I like them?!?!? Aang, this is almost as good as Bato’s sea prunes.” 

Aang raised his eyebrows. “Oh, that’s... that’s great!” 

Katara kicked him lightly under the table. “They’re really, really good Aang. You know,” she said, stuffing more noodles in her mouth, “If you ever get sick of the whole Avatar thing, you could be a really great chef.” 

“Thanks, Katara,” he said. “I can make them for you again. Any time you want.” 

Katara nodded vigorously. “You’d better.” 

_____________________________________________________________________

He ended up making them quite a lot, actually. A few weeks after middle of the night noodles, Katara found out that she was pregnant, and there was many a night where she poked at his side and mumbled, “Noodles?” His technique improved every time he made them, and he loved watching her face light up every time he made them for her. 

Bumi was born, and for a while he was too wrapped up in figuring out how to be a good dad to think about the noodles. But he thought of Gyatso, often. Wondering what he would think of Bumi, of Katara, of the life that he’d made for himself. Of how he’d handled being the Avatar. Of how he’d survived the unsurvivable, and held onto the memory of the Air Nomads while he did so. 

When Bumi turned a year old, Katara decided they should invite everybody over for dinner to celebrate. “You can make those noodles!” she suggested excitedly. 

Aang laughed. “I would think you were sick of those.” 

“Oh, I am,” she said. “Just a little bit. But everybody else hasn’t tried them, and it is so hard trying to figure out something that Zuko and Suki will both like. But I don’t see how either of them could not like the noodles.” 

Aang agreed, and so he served the noodles to all of his friends, to their absolute delight. “You really can cook, Twinkle Toes,” Toph said, whistling. 

“This is amazing, Aang,” Suki said. “Almost as good as sea prunes.”

“This is way better than sea prunes,” Zuko said, holding out his bowl. “Can I have some more?” 

Somehow, every time Aang and Katara went to go see Suki and Sokka, or to the Fire Nation to see Zuko, or to the Earth Kingdom to visit Toph’s metalbending academy, they always managed to bring up the noodles. “You should have brought some,” Toph grumbled. “Could really go for some Twinkle Toes noodles right now.” 

“I wouldn’t call them ‘Twinkle Toes’ noodles,” Aang scoffed. 

Toph raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then what would you call them?” 

And before Aang could even think about it, he said, “Flamey-O. Flamey-O Noodles.” 

Toph burst out laughing. “You’re really never going to let that go, are you, Twinkle Toes?” 

Aang shook his head. “Nope. I’m bringing it back.” 

“Well, you know, if you ever wanted to turn ‘Flamey-O Noodles’ into something real, one of my students’ moms is in the restaurant business.” 

Aang stared at her. “You mean you want me to make this into... a business? I don’t have time for that.” 

Toph shrugged. “All right. Just something to consider.” She smirked. “You know, if the name Flamey-O was plastered all over Ba Sing Se, saying ‘flameo, hotman’ might come back into style. And not even just in the Fire Nation, either. All over the world.” 

Aang’s eyes glinted mischievously. “What did you say your student’s mom’s name was?” 

____________________________________________________________________

“I must say, it’s not every day the Avatar is approaching me for a business venture. I’m quite honored to be in your presence, your grace.”

“It’s nice to meet you too! You can just call me Aang, though. In fact, I’d prefer it.” 

Bao was a short, stout woman, probably twice Aang’s age (without considering the time he spent in the iceberg.) She had a warm presence that he liked immediately, although she did seem to be making a lot of the whole “Avatar” thing. 

“Spirits, I’m on first name basis with the Avatar,” she breathed in awe. “Come, come, sit, please, tell me how I can serve you best, your-- Avatar Aang.” 

“Just Aang,” he said quickly. “And I’m more interested in serving you... some of my noodles!” He set a bowl in front of her. “They’re not fresh, sorry, but I think they’re still really good.” 

She frowned. “Noodles? Av-- Aang, don’t you have Air Acolytes waiting on you hand and foot? Why would you make your own noodles?” 

He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “No, they don’t wait on me hand and foot, although I’m sure if I gave them the opportunity they’d jump at it. But, um. Well, I learned how to make these noodles from the monks, and my wife and my friends seem to really like them, and my friend Toph knew you from the metalbending academy, and she said that you could get these noodles out to a lot of people. So I wanted you to try them, and maybe we can talk about going into business together?” 

Bao stared at him. “You do realize that what you’re proposing is absolutely preposterous, right?” 

Aang’s eyes widened. “But you haven’t even tried them!” 

“It’s not about the noodles, Ava-- Aang. Aang. Look, I am absolutely wonderful at the food business, but I had certain values instilled in me from when I was a child, and one of those values was absolute and total reverence for the Avatar.” 

“But can’t you just try them?” 

“The Avatar is supposed to bring balance to the world, manage international conflicts, mentor all of us in the values of wisdom and serenity, and you want me to eat your noodles?”

She stared at him expectantly, and Aang shifted in his seat. “Well. Yes.” 

Bao narrowed her eyes at him, and looked down at the bowl. “All right, then. If that’s what you wish, Avatar.” 

“Just Aang is fine.” 

She ignored him and stuck her chopsticks into the noodles, chewing very slowly. Savor your food. There was no expression on her face as she kept chewing, just a furrowing of her brow. 

“Have you made this dish often, Aang?” she asked. 

He nodded. “I made it a lot while my wife was pregnant, and then my friends kept asking for some, and--”

“Stop,” she said. She took another bite and continued chewing. “If I were to go into business with you, you would want to call the company what?”

“Um, Flamey-O Noodles, ma’am.” Her expressionless chewing had suddenly made him feel very small. 

“Well, it’s certainly distinctive,” she mumbled. “Though I don’t know how well it would go over with people in the Fire Nation.” 

“Are you--are you saying you’ll go into business with me?” 

“Aang, those noodles are quite simply the best I’ve ever eaten,” Bao said matter-of-factly. “And I’m not saying that because you’re the Avatar. In fact, I would say that even if you were a toad-pigeon. And I hate toad-pigeons.” She smiled, finally, and Aang let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “I would be absolutely delighted to help you in creating Flamey-O Noodles.” 

He got up from his seat and wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

“Avatar Aang, this is rather improper,” she said, but it was somewhat muffled by his chest. When they pulled apart, she shook her head at him. “In business, we shake hands.” 

“Right.” He took her hand and shook it. “I promise, you won’t regret it!” 

“I imagine I won’t,” she said. “Now, let’s talk packaging....” 

___________________________________________________________________

Zuko and Mai were on their evening walk through the city, disguised so that no one would recognize them as Firelord and Lady. As they moved towards downtown Caldera City, they stopped in front of a large poster with the words “Flamey-O Noodles!” in bright neon yellow, beside Aang’s smiling face. 

As somebody passed by them, they raised their hand in greeting. “Flameo, hotman!” 

“What? What are they talking about?” Mai asked. 

Zuko groaned. “I hate him.” 

Alfred + Apples or Alfred + Jim Gordon, please? Thanks for all your lovely writing!

AO3 link

This work is part of a series, but can be read alone. Know that Apples is Jason’s 4 month old puppy.

______

It was a beautiful day out, was the first thing Alfred noted when the sun came up that morning. Unfortunately, as the morning wore on and grew warm enough he might think to spend it out in his greenhouse, it became apparent he could not.

Not after Cassandra had skipped into the kitchen to drink a glass of orange juice and take a protein bar. “Can you watch Apples?” She asked, making a point of swallowing her food before she spoke.

Alfred paused where he was kneading dough, preparing it to prove for the next few hours. He glanced up to find Jason standing a ways back, hovering in the doorway, and raised an eyebrow.

“She wants me to drive her to her dance class. I told her she had to ask you about Apples if she wanted me to. I’d just bring her, I did last time-“

“Someone is allergic.” Cassandra interrupted, setting down her empty glass and popping the last bite of her protein bar into her mouth.

Jason shuffled a little further into the room behind her with a small grimace. “Ended up having to sit in the car with her the whole time. And she’s still gets kinda anxious with that many strangers.”

Alfred looked at Cassandra then, whom he knew was perfectly capable of getting herself to her dance classes, and had for many months before Jason moved back in.

Of course her driving was rather terrifying and they encouraged her to avoid it whenever possible. But beyond that, it was something to get Jason out of the house, which he had been doing very little of as of late.

Alfred had invited him to the store with him a number of times and been politely turned down without exception. He would seem to consider it at first, to mull it over with cautious interest that would quickly diminish, morphing into something hesitant and nervous that he would hide and brush off as not thinking Apples was ready for an outing with so many people yet, or not wanting to leave her in the manor alone when the others were busy.

Of course then he would become overly quiet and obviously frustrated with himself, eventually retreating to his room or the library or risk snapping at one of his brothers or Bruce. Occasionally the cave for some exercise or the outdoors if the weather wasn’t too horrid. It always left Alfred feeling a little out of his depth. He was never one to push but he questioned if a little more encouragement might be a bigger help.

From him - perhaps not. But from Cassandra he thought it might be more successful.

He’d heard them discuss her classes before as well, and she seemed eager to share this with Jason of all of them; perhaps because she saw that he too could benefit in being reminded of the good and harmless things his body was capable of.

“Of course I don’t mind,” he replied in the end, letting go of the idea of spending a peaceful morning mostly outdoors. Cassandra’s class was two hours long and he didn’t doubt she would rope Jason into getting lunch afterward if all went well and truly, Alfred hoped it did. “I’m sure it would be no trouble.”

It was only eight thirty in the morning then, but Cassandra’s class started in just thirty minutes. And so Jason rushed around, getting Apples outside for the toilet before he hurried back inside, toeing his boots off noisily in the mudroom before darting into the kitchen with her. Claws clicked softly on the tile as he slid on his socked feet to the pantry.

He quickly filled her food dish and nearly slid it across the floor where it bumped into the side of the cabinet and spilled a few bits of kibble.

“Master Jason,” Alfred asked, a little exasperated, “are you truly in such a hurry that you cannot set down a food dish?”

“Sorry, I-“ Alfred looked up at the pause, hands still at work. “Don’t like to be late,” he said on a breath, followed by a soft grimace and stiff shoulders.

He was still quite nervous, Alfred realized, a dip of guilt in his chest before he shooed him with his flour coated hands.

“Well, go on then, we’ll be fine. Titus will keep her company, I’m sure I will barely be needed.”

Jason gave him a half smile, one of the crooked kind that always reminded him of when the boy was so much younger; when he first came to the manor and they had been small and unsure.

“I promise I won’t make it a habit of leaving her to you, she won’t need too much watching for much longer anyway and-“

“Master Jason really, I don’t mind at all. I’m glad to see you going out.”

Perhaps a bit too direct, he thought, at the ducked chin and shrugged shoulders. “She’s been asking me for weeks, trying to teach me stuff. I met one of her teachers there last time, they’re nice there. It...seems fun.”  

Alfred nodded, scooping the dough he was working into a ball and setting it gently in a metal bowl. “And you quite deserve it, I think. So go on, I promise I’m not bothered.”

Jason bumped a fist on top of the counter in quick succession, nervous energy leaking out. “Ok, one thing, she does need to take that med around 10-“

“I remember, it’s on the counter right over there, I will handle it.”

One last swallow and nod before he rubbed at the back of his neck and Alfred caught Cassandra’s shadow flit across the doorway; waiting out of sigh, no doubt.

Alfred put both hands on the sides of the bowl, looking up and making direct eye contact. “Master Jason, go have fun, please.”

This time his answering smile was wider, eyes crinkling just slightly at the edges. “Thanks, Alf.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

Cassandra peaked her head around the door just then, grinning when Jason turned around. “Come on, have to speed there.”

“I’m coming, I’ll get us there on time.”

And as Alfred went about covering his dough in cling wrap and a towel, setting it to prove near the stove top he glanced down at the puppy still working away at her breakfast, tail wagging happily.

She was quite sweet really. The only thing being, Alfred had yet to spend much time alone with her. It had been just shy of six weeks since she joined their family, and in such a short time she had lost much of her initial skittishness. They were even taking her out in public now, as Jason had mentioned. As long as one of the family was with her, she was much less nervous.

Alfred though, sadly, was probably her least favorite. Through no fault of his own, mind you. He was usually too busy working in some fashion to sit and properly introduce himself, and the boys and Cassandra always seemed intent on monopolizing her attention.

Of course, Alfred had lived an active life up to this point, and while he appreciated the vigor of a young puppy, he wasn’t sure he quite had the energy for one. Not the way these youngsters ran with her out doors, or played with her toys for hours on end. His best bet, he figured, would be to find Titus and have him run her around outside later.

For now, as she finished up her food, she came around the counter and trotted through the kitchen, around the island and nearly out into the dining room before he had to call her back. She came easily enough, though as Alfred started on cleaning up the counters and she sat down next to the rug he stood on, he thought she looked rather disappointed.

“He’ll be back soon, no need to pout.” At that, she laid down, feet sprawled across the tile, flat on her belly with her head resting on the floor. “Oh my, I dare say it won’t be so terrible without him for a few hours.”

Truly, at this point in his life, Alfred should have known better than to say any such thing.

    *

    Things started off a bit bumpy, but not so terrible.

Apples, by nature, didn’t like being left alone. The plus side to this was that it was never difficult to keep track of her. Without Jason or any of the others there, she didn’t venture anywhere she could not see him.

On the downside however, it was a little difficult to get certain things done.

While he found having a small shadow follow after him wherever he went reminiscent of days long past, the dog was not quite as good at staying out of the way as any of the children had been. He nearly tripped over her on three different occasions while attempting to dust in one of the hallways. This served the double purpose of being mildly frustrating as well as rather guilt inducing; as each time, the poor thing tucked her tail and ears down as if awaiting punishment.

When he knocked his elbow into an antique vase and nearly upended it in order to catch his balance he decided he would be better served to attempt the task later, when someone else was home to keep Miss Apples company.

The dough he’d been making earlier that morning still had plenty of time to prove, but he was never remiss in starting meal preparation early. If the children went out for lunch it generally meant they would be home for dinner and Master Damian had requested a vegetarian dish Alfred had yet to try his hand at. So he ventured back to the kitchen to peruse the recipe and do a bit of prep work.

As he fell into the rhythm of chopping vegetables and premeasuring spices he paused when he felt a weight fall over his feet. Glancing down, he found Apples laid out on the kitchen floor as she had been earlier that morning, but had rested her chin on his feet this time.

He was forced to stretch himself halfway across the counter in order to snag the salt from the top of the oven, but she was rather sensitive and he didn’t want her to think she was in any sort of trouble for it. He couldn’t help but find it rather endearing, even while it restricted his movement.

Thankfully, she seemed to become restless and bored after not too long, letting out little puppy huffs every now and then. So all he had to do was lean back from counter and ask, “Do you want to go outside?” And she was immediately up on her feet and wagging her tail.

“Yes, I can tell,” he mumbled to himself as he began resealing packages and returning items to their proper places until dinner time. “We’ll go find Titus, he can wear you out.”

Titus, though, while rising early to relieve himself and eat his breakfast, was generally back to sleep this time of the morning, and today was no exception. Any attempt to wake him had, so far, been unsuccessful.

Alfred would never admit to attempting to tip him out of his bed when no amount of calling and promises of treats would budge him. While his lack of success had something to do with it, he feared more that he might have strained his back in the attempt, and would rather not hear the uncomfortable speech from Bruce about his age. He was quite fine, thank you.

“Well then, you’ll have to settle for a peaceful walk around the grounds I’m afraid,” he tried not to grumble to the puppy, who’d stood by and barked a few times through Alfred’s efforts to wake the larger dog, but had been no help otherwise. She only wagged her tail now, ears raised as she followed him back down to the mud room.

Jason and the others would take her out in a jacket and no leash, letting her bound around and chase a ball and whatnot.

Alfred, though, was wary of doing so on his own, as she didn’t seem as attached to him as the others, and she was still a bit skittish. He worried something might spook her into running off and he wouldn’t be quick enough to follow after her. And so he went about the trouble of fitting her into her harness, pulling her little padded rain jacket over her head before slipping his own coat and hat on, latching her leash to the harness - and then remembering her medication, sitting on the counter in the kitchen.

“Oh my,” he said to himself, glancing at the clock above the back door. It was a quarter past 10. He hesitated, unsure how long they would be outside but not wanting to risk the delay, though he knew it wouldn’t be long, he went ahead and pulled his boots back off and walked the poor thing back into the kitchen.

It was only an antibiotic, one prescribed after Damian insisted the skin issue she came to them with was not healing properly and they’d managed to have a vet to the house. The privileges of the wealthy and all.

Jason had seemed to be torn between exasperation at the luxury of it, and gratefulness at not having to either go out with her himself, or force her into the universally dreaded environment of the veterinarian’s office.

She was only a few days into the prescription and he really should have read the directions on the bottle, or even simply recounted his own extensive medical knowledge and given it to her with a scoop of kibble, or some other snack. But he did not. Instead, he shook a pill out of the bottle and pressed it into a small piece of cheese before feeding it to her.

But in that moment, none of those things occurred to him, he only shuffled her back into the mud room, and out the back door.

It was rather snowy out, and would likely stay that way for another month before they saw the ground again, but there was a cleared and paved path that wound around the gardens and Alfred took her along that way. It was very brisk, and he tugged his hat low over his ears as they walked, at least enjoying the sun though he thought he may not have spent much time in his gardens after all, not in this chill.

Apples trotted out ahead of him, sniffing at the air and the snow at the edge of the path, rushing side to side in a zig-zag pattern while Alfred took a much more sedate pace behind her.

He did let her into the snow a bit, so that she wouldn’t wee on the pavement, but of course she discovered a hidden tennis ball buried in the snow and rushed back to him with it, wagging her tail insistently. Alfred sighed, eyeing the snow covered land around them. It was unlikely something would frighten her, really, and he could at least do this much.

“Well alright, if you insist.” He bent down, with a little difficulty, his back twinging in warning when he was just a few inches from the ball. He lowered himself very slowly the rest of the way, tugging Apples over while he was already low to the ground and unlatching her leash. He stood back up with careful movements, but seemed alright when he was back to standing.

To hell with age, he thought, as he tossed the ball out into the snow. It wasn’t nearly as far as any of the children would throw it, nor Bruce, but he did not want to put anymore strain on his spine than necessary, just to be safe. Apples didn’t seem to mind as she went bounding after it, only to return in short order, ready for another go.

He consciously loosened his stance before bending down the next time and was relieved to feel no answering twinge. They went about it for just a few short minutes before Apples seemed to have enough, only following the ball with her eyes the last time he threw it before sitting down at his feet and looking up at him.

“Done already are you? All the better for me I suppose.”

He took her a bit further out on the path, waiting until she at least relieved herself before he led them both back inside.

It was then that things went drastically downhill. He went about removing his hat and coat, and then carefully bent down to take off Apples’ coat and harness and untie his shoes. After removing one and setting it near the door, he heard a distinct sound that had him turning around more sharply than he should have.

Before he could make a move to do a thing about it, Apples had retched all over the floor. “Oh dear.”

He made to take a step toward her but that proved to be a mistake when she  cringed down and away from him.

“No-“ he cut himself off before he could finish as her paws went right through her sick, causing her to lose traction all together and slip, sliding her front half straight across it.

With lips pressed thin, Alfred stood very still, one shoe still on. He took a breath, feeling a painful clenching in his chest as he watched her scramble back to her feet and huddle against the wall.

“It’s alright,” he tried to soothe, still not making a move to get any closer. “It’s nothing to be so upset about.” Kneeling down very carefully again, he patted his leg, keeping his voice low and soft. “Apples, come, it’s alright, I promise. You’re in no trouble at all. Come here, please.” He could see her shaking as she finally shuffled across the floor to him, belly low to the ground, tail between her legs, making a wide arch around the mess still on the floor. When she finally came near and he cautiously began to reach forward she rolled over, exposing her stomach, throat bared.

It broke his old-soft heart.

“You poor dear,” he mumbled under his breath. He wasn’t quite sure where to reach, as there was damp-yellow sick pressed into nearly all of her exposed fur.  

After a moment of glancing around he grabbed the spare rag the boys had been using to clean the dog’s feet off and slowly settled it over the mess that was her fur. He tried to gently tug her back to rights but the very action sent her scrambling back to her feet, forcing him to grab her around the middle to stop her from potentially running into the main house covered in vomit.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright.” He soothed, tucking her up to his side, attempting to hold the towel in place to avoid any transfer. He could hear her wheezed breathing, feel how stiff her muscles were in his grip, though she didn’t make a sound.

And so he sat for quite some time, kneeling on one knee in the mud room, with one untied shoe on, and a half grown puppy covered in sick, stroking down her back; about the only clean spot on her.

She did calm down a little after a while, turning her attention to licking at his trousers when she couldn’t reach his hands, as if apologizing. Sadly, there was no way to avoid a bath for her. Thankfully, they were already in the perfect location for one.

There was a large sink up against one wall with an assortment of bottled soaps sat next to it and a stack of towels on a shelf underneath. She would hate it, he thought, and likely be terrified of him for the foreseeable future but there was nothing else for it.

Carefully, he adjusted his grip around her center, shifting the towel once more before he stood up, an alarming zing running up his spine at the movement. He gasped in a breath himself and held very still, only relaxing after enough time had passed and no other pain followed. He walked her over to the sink and more crouched than bent over to set her down.

Removing the towel he made sure she wasn’t likely to climb right out of the sink and stepped briefly away to take care of the mess on the floor. He heard her claws scraping up the bottom of the sink and soft whining breaths, but she didn’t bark.

Alfred steadfastly did not bend to wipe up the floor, instead squatting in an awkward pose and using the already dirtied towel to wipe up the rest of the sick. He would mop later.

The laundry room was just through the doorway and he took only a split second to deposit the towel in the dirty hamper before he kicked off his remaining shoe and returned to the sink. The poor thing was shaking and when he turned on the water it only got worse.

“I promise it will be quick and painless,” he tried to soothe, holding his hand under the stream and waiting for it to warm up. “You’ll right as rain as soon as this is done with and you’ll feel so much better, I promise.”

He did his level best to avoid getting water in her face, moving the spray nozzle to primarily soak her chest and belly before squeezing out some soap and scrubbing it into the dirtied fur. She endured admirably, all things considered, though she continued to retreat to the back of the sink each time he lifted his hands away. “I know, I am your very least favorite person in the world right this moment, but you’ll be so much happier when you’re clean.”

It didn’t take very long, really. He scrubbed and rinsed her twice, paying special attention to her feet the second time around. He managed to shield himself from her full body shake by grabbing a towel just in time and quickly draped it over her, giving her a good scrub with it. “There, it’s already so much better, isn’t it?”

Trouble came a second time when he attempted to lift her out of the tub. His back seized immediately, stars dancing in his vision causing him to nearly drop her and leaving him frozen, half bent over with her wrapped in a towel in his arms. She squirmed just slightly, tail whipping out the bottom of the towel and Alfred mentally cursed his old bones and bad timing.

Putting her on the floor was what did it in the end. The moment he knew he’d pushed things too far and the insistent stabbing pain up through his low back made him gasp, quickly reaching out to grip the edge of the sink. Apples was busy divesting herself of the towel while he underwent the mental math of his next moves.

He needed to sit down, number one, but he needed to take a muscle relaxant first or he would only stiffen up the longer he stayed still. And perhaps an ice pack, he thought.

Walking into the kitchen, back bent at a 45 degree angle, he spared a split second to be thankful no one was there to witness it. Though, if someone had been, he would not be in this predicament to start with.

He had to pause in the doorway from the laundry room, breathing shallow. “You foolish old man,” he muttered under his breath, bracing himself for the last shuffle to the medicine cabinet and the awkward reach he had to make without being able to stand up straight. He swallowed the pill dry rather than bother with getting a glass of water.

After the grueling process of getting an ice pack from the freezer door he was left with the question of where to retire. He wanted nothing more than to retreat to his own rooms, wait out the pain in his back until the relaxants took affect and he could move easily enough to attempt to work out the muscles. But he would have to bring Apples with him, and the others wouldn’t look for him in his rooms.

If they did, it would be because they assumed something was wrong when they couldn’t find him in the main house.

It would worry Jason more than he was willing to, even for his own pride. And so he shuffled into one of the lower level entertainment rooms, not wanting to even risk the stairs. He was afraid initially that Apples would attempt to hide, but she steadfastly followed after him, even after he’d put her through such suffering.

“You are quite a loyal thing, aren’t you?” He mumbled aloud as he very slowly lowered himself onto the couch.

It took some shifting around, but he managed to get the ice pack tucked behind him, pressed into the tight, angry muscles of his low back. The remote, thankfully, was sat precisely in the center of the armrest he sat closest to and as he relaxed, and settled back into the cushions, he turned on the television, hoping for something he could fall asleep to.

Apples had followed him all the way to the couch and only hesitated for a moment before she jumping up after him. She was shivering still, though he hoped it was more from the cold of being wet now than from fear.

Though it wasn’t the more lived in portion of the manor, there was at least a throw blanket draped across the back of the couch and even as restricted as his movement currently was he was able to drag it down and wrap the poor thing up.

“There you are,” he said, running a gentle hand over her head, the only part of her body still exposed. She folded down next to him then, resting her chin on  his thigh this time.

“You still like me after all that, do you?” He could feel the dampness from her fur soaking through his trouser leg slowly, but it was nothing to be bothered with now. Her brown eyes turned to look up at him, a little shiver running through her frame before she burrowed just a little closer. “Well I suppose the feeling is mutual.”

Alfred tucked the blanket in tightly around her, settling one hand on her back as his heart squeezed that little bit. Jason would likely be furious with the comparison but he couldn’t help but be reminded of the boy when he’d first come to the manor.

He distinctly remembered an instance in his early days there, when he’d been in the kitchen with him, trying to help with dinner. Somehow he had spilled a pot of spaghetti sauce and he’d been so panicked to clean it up he’d burned himself badly on the pot and had to be coaxed into just letting either him or Bruce look at his hands. He’d spent over an hour stiff and wide eyed continuing to insist it was an accident repeatedly, as if they didn’t believe him.

Alfred had been concerned it would cause backsliding, more fear, but as the evening wore on and it became apparent there would be no expected punishment he’d ended the night pressed up again Bruce’s side on the couch in the den, watching a movie. It was closer contact than Alfred had seen Jason volunteer for up to that point and it warmed his heart and made it ache all in one; the way he was so cautious but so hungry for safety and love.

He’d never quite lost that caution.

As Alfred tried to ease his sore muscles, running a hand down Apples’ blanketed back and feeling the pull of drowsiness as the muscle relaxants began to take effect, he hoped that she might, and that perhaps in time Jason would as well. They were quite a perfect pair, weren’t they?

    *

    When Bruce arrived home early from WE, he had expected to find both Alfred and Jason home, but when he came into the kitchen through the garage, it was quiet and empty. But that didn’t seem quite right, because the car Alfred usually took into town was still parked in the garage. The one Cass took to her dance classes was gone, but Alfred rarely drove her and when he did, he took his own car, not hers.

And none of that explained where Jason was.

“Alfred? Jay?” He called as he set his briefcase down on the dining room table. It was a long shot, in the manor, likely he would have to do a search by foot.

Jason’s room was empty, as was the den, and when he looked out at the grounds from his bedroom balcony they appeared empty as well. He checked his phone briefly, to see if anyone sent him an update, but there was nothing. They hadn’t been expecting him home yet so he supposed that wasn’t a bad sign per se, but it still left him feeling vaguely uneasy.

He shot a quick text to Jason, to be safe, as he continued through the house, spotting Titus at the foot of the main stairwell as he ventured back down. It was possible Alfred was out in the greenhouse but Bruce now wondered where Apples was too. He supposed he could have taken her with him out there but in the current weather even that would be rather cold for any extended period of time.

“Where is everyone Titus?” He mused when he hit the ground floor, only for the dog to turn and trot down a hall toward the lesser used parts of the manor where they might set up guests if they had any. “What are you-“

Titus had no reason to venture down those halls on his own, and all the doors would be closed anyway, unless someone was down there.

“Alfred?” Bruce called again as he began to follow. Perhaps he had decided to deep clean the lesser used space. Except that the further down the hall he traveled he began to hear something that sounded distinctly like a television, some sort of commercial playing.

He spotted Titus slipping into an open door and followed on silent feet.

What he found left him nearly speechless and warmed from the inside.

Alfred sat on the couch, propped up straight with his head tilted up, resting on the back on the couch, eyes closed, one hand on the remote, the other on Apple’s back where she lay curled up next to him with her head on his leg. Titus had folded himself down in front of the couch, head up and watching Bruce. Quietly he pulled his phone out, but before he even raised it completely he was interrupted.

“If you take that picture you will find your phone missing in short order,” Alfred mumbled to the ceiling before his eyes slit open just enough to give him a soft glare. Bruce suppressed a smile as best he could, but didn’t lower his phone.

“Turnabout is fair-play,” he said, tapping the shutter release.

Raindrops Keep Falling

Summary: On a particularly rainy day as the Ericson kids huddle together in the piano room for warmth, Clementine and Louis brave the outside to get some herbs in their quest for a hot meal.

Read on A03:

Rainy days were the worst.

It had been raining for the entire day. They had woken up to rain, taken turns keeping watch in the rain and finished the daily chores to the best of their ability despite the downpour. Most of them had spent the majority of the day indoors, boarding up all the windows to prevent the wind from blowing more water inside the halls. They’d built up a fire in the music room’s fireplace, most of the kids holing up there when they didn’t have anywhere else they needed to be. It was miserably cold throughout most of the school, but they managed to keep it warm in there.

Ruby and Aasim had gone to check the traps in the morning and found all of them empty. There wasn’t any point in hunting either as all the animals were hiding from the rain. Luckily they’d dried some extra meat in the past few weeks, so they had something to tide them over, that was, if the rain didn’t go on too much longer. The group sat around the fire, chewing jerky and playing every card game Louis could come up with.

By dinnertime their stomachs were all growling again. Omar insisted that he wouldn’t allow them to suffer through another meal of solely jerky if he had anything to say about it. They could improvise a wood fire within the old kitchen. As long as they cracked open a few windows, the smoke created from one meal shouldn’t be too bad. All they needed from outside was the cast-iron pot and some fresh herbs from the greenhouse to bring the dried meat’s flavor out. Willy and A.J. volunteered to get the pot, with Aasim tagging along to make sure they stayed on task.

“I can go get the herbs,” Clem volunteered eagerly.

Aasim looked unconvinced. “Are you sure? I mean, I know you’ve gotten really good on the prosthetic lately, but it’s super muddy out there,”

“Anything to get outside for a few minutes. Being in here since morning’s driving me a bit crazy. Plus it’s not like I don’t know the way,”

Louis rose up with a groan, dramatically bowing as he offered Clementine a hand up. “If my lady insists on getting out for some fresh air, who am I to say no? I’ll accompany you,”

“You really don’t have to. I know you just got dry from watch,”

“Alas, too true. But a few raindrops are a small price to pay to see you smile,”

Violet rolled her eyes. “God, you get more sappy every day, Louis,”

“Why, thank you! I do try my best,”

“Just get out of here before I have to gag you. Clem, do us all a favor and take him with you,”

“Alright then,” Clementine took Louis’ hand, making it upright with only the tiniest wobble. “To the greenhouse we go,”

---

They were surprised to see how bad the rain had gotten when they stepped out the front of the administrative building. The overhang did little to protect them from the rain as it fell down in showers before them, forcing them to squint to make out anything in front of them. In hindsight they should have known how bad the conditions were when Ruby had come in dripping wet from watch and announced that watch duties would be suspended until the rain let up. Still, there was nothing quite like seeing the storm in person to really put things into perspective.

“You sure you want to do this?” Louis shouted over the wind, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Clementine nodded. “It’ll be worth it to get a hot meal!”

Before she could say anything further, A.J. and Willy came barreling out the front doors, laughing wildly as they ran out into the rain. Aasim was close behind them, not looking nearly as happy.

“Slow down!” he called out, trying to sound authoritative. “Stay on task!”

Clementine turned back to Louis with a smile. “I guess we gotta go for it!”

“Wait!” Louis exclaimed. He quickly took his trenchcoat off, an action that surprised Clem until he draped the coat above his head, stepping behind her to draw her into the makeshift shelter. “OK, on three?”

Clementine felt her heart warm at the selfless gesture. She leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “On three,”

Louis glanced down in surprise, clearly flustered by the kiss. The same dorky grin that had crossed his face the night she’d confessed her feelings reemerged now. He nodded quickly, signaling he was ready.

“One, two… three!” With that they began their sprint across the yard. Well, it was really more of a brisk jog with Louis making sure not to outrun Clementine or pressure her from behind while Clementine did her utmost to not slip and fall in the mud. She had a couple close calls, one of which had Louis wrapping his arms around her to prevent the fall and dropping his coat in the process, getting them both momentarily soaked. They quickly righted themselves though, getting back on track to their destination.

They burst through the greenhouse door with uproarious laughter, taking a moment to catch their breath as they leaned against the nearest planters. As their laughter stilled, the sound of the rain came through. It was a much more peaceful sound when inside the greenhouse. The patter of the rain falling against the glass panes was comforting and they could see individual rivulets of rain making their way from the roof all the way down the sides of the greenhouse. Even the howling of the wind felt distant despite the stark chilliness inside.

Clementine involuntarily shivered and Louis immediately threw his coat over her shoulders, drawing it round her to try to fend off the cold.

“Lou, c’mon, that’s too much,” Clementine said, trying to shrug it off. “I’m fine, really!”

“Nu uh,” Louis shook his head, some droplets falling down from his dreadlocks. “You keep it for now. It looks cuter on you anyways,”

“I don’t know, you look pretty great in it too,” Clementine quipped.

Louis blushed at her words. He turned round quickly to survey the greenhouse. “So… what was it exactly that we needed?”

“I got this,” Clementine made her way among the planters, picking a few herbs here and there in various planters. “Omar tends to have his favorites. As long as we bring a wide selection back we should be fine,” They made their way amongst the aisles, tucking the herbs into the sleeves of Louis’ coat as they went along.

When they’d made a full circuit, Clementine offered Louis’ coat back to him.

Louis took it reluctantly. “Only for pseudo-umbrella purposes,” he said, tucking it under his arm.

With that, they were ready to face the storm once more. The first time Clementine tried to open the door it slammed back shut with the force of the wind, surprising both of them. Clementine planted her good foot, anchoring the other against Louis’ left side before gritting her teeth and trying again. This time they didn’t hesitate, leaping outside before the door unceremoniously slammed shut behind them. Louis tried to use the same trick with his trenchcoat as they’d done on the way there, but this time the wind was blowing the rain towards them instead of against their backs. They were forced to adopt a new plan: holding the trench coat in front of themselves instead of behind, they used it as a sort of shield, peeking out from underneath occasionally as they made their way back to the main building. It certainly wasn’t an easy or direct route they ended up taking, but finally they found themselves at the steps of Ericson.

Rushing inside, they stopped by the kitchen first to give Omar the herbs. He already had the water boiling over the makeshift fire and told them it would only be about 15 more minutes till dinner could be served. With the promise of a hard-won hot meal in their minds, they rejoined the others in the music room. A.J. was busy regaling the others with a story of a close call he and Clementine had a couple years back and how they’d gotten out of it. Louis and Clem took their places on the outer edge of the circle, leaning against the piano bench for support.

Louis looked at his trench coat rather sadly before laying it out beside him to dry in the fire’s glow.

“Too wet to wear?” Clementine asked with concern.

“Only for a while. It fought bravely out there against those stormy winds. It deserves a moment of rest and recovery,” Louis saluted his coat with a wry smile.

Clementine joined in with a grin. Looking over at Louis, she could see he was still shivering a bit. She was freezing too. Perhaps if they combined their warmth though… Silently she crawled forward, settling in front of Louis before leaning back to rest against his chest. She heard some nervous spluttering from behind her, but Louis didn’t protest. In fact, after a few moments his arms circled round her, drawing her closer. They basked in the warmth of the room and each other’s company, neither wanting to move at all for the rest of the night.

“Well,” Louis murmured, his mouth close to her ear. “Not a bad end to what could have been a very sucky day,”

“Every day is a good day when I’m with you,”

She could hear Louis happily chuckling behind her. “Careful. If we get too sappy, Vi might just gag the both of us,”

Clementine interlocked her fingers with Louis’, drawing his arms more tightly around her. “I’m willing to take that risk,”

And so the rest of the night passed in blissful peace, stories and stew being shared round the circle till all eyes grew heavy and surrendered to sleep.

Rainy days really were the best.

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/80557750

Chapter 70:

The next day, Nick felt as calm and save he hadn't felt for a long time. Lying in his bed, he was happy to experience that he didn't have a blackout, and that he knew where he had spent the night. It had been right here, among friends. He also remembered fondly that James had brought him to bed, after keeping a clear head hadn't been necessary anymore and Nick had just let all worries go. For the first time, it felt alright to wake up as the only person in his bed, because he knew he wasn't alone. And even if his friends were a bit out of it, they remembered what was most necessary, that they were a team. Nick left the bed and prettied himself up, putting on one of Hackney's new creations. It was just the right time to wear something completely new. And the designer had been right, yellow was his colour.

Strutting down the stairs, he noticed a delicate smell coming out of the kitchen. “Oh, dear”, he whispered in awe. “Is that...pancakes?” He wondered who in the band suddenly cared enough to cook. Hurrying through the door, he found a pile of freshly made, steaming hot pancakes on the table, and James at the stove, pouring more dough in a pan. “James”, Nick gasped. “You're cooking!” He sounded as if the other man didn't notice what he was doing. “Apposite observation, my friend”, James answered happily, pointing at the already filled plate. “You think this is too much? It's supposed to be enough for four hungry mouths but I'm not sure if you even eat that much for your usually late breakfasts. Coffee is on the way, too.” Nick looked around the kitchen, gaping. “It's alright...It's just...alright...”, Nick muttered and sank into a chair. “Are you okay, Nicky?” James asked worrying. “Yeah...I'm so happy...” Nick wiped his eyes. The other man was quickly by his side to hold him. “You're looking good in that”, he commented his rags. “New collection?” “Yeah, Davy picked them for me...I mean Davy Hackney.” James nodded and Nick leaned his head against him, smiling.

“These are edible, by the way”, James gestured towards the pancakes. “First come, first served.” Because Nick's mouth watered at that, he helped himself to a big portion of the rare meal. Adoring the taste of melted sugar and lemon juice on his tongue, he leaned back. “James, this is delicious!”, he swooned. “Why didn't you tell me you can cook? I would've let you move in without hesitation!” The other man laughed. “To be fair, I haven't done this in a while. Luckily, this is just like riding a bike, you can't unlearn it.” “Can you ride a bike?”, Nick wondered. “I think so.” James furrowed his brows. “You can't?” “I don't know.” They laughed and James finished the second round of pancakes, serving them on another plate. “Don't you eat too?”, Nick asked him after a while. “Or do you want me as your food taster first?” “Doesn't the cook eat last?” “Nonsense, this isn't a noble house anyway.” Nick shoved a plate into his direction. James turned away again. “Oh, I forgot to serve the coffee...” When he was finally done and they both had their hot drinks and filled plates, James tasted his own recipe. “This isn't bad, I think”, he judged himself, “For a first try in years.” “It's the cutest thing you could've done as a manager,” Nick purred. “The others will love you too.” “They'll have to bear with me for now...” “Could be worse”, Nick said with a grin and James smiled back.

Nick was proven right about his band. When they found out their new manager had made them breakfast they keenly pitched into it. “Virgil can take a leaf out of your book”, Brad said, looking at the piece of golden pancake on his fork. “I'm not sure I even want him back”, Chris approved. Nick forced a smile. He knew they didn't have as many good memories with Virgil as he had, and also they forgot many of them already, but it still hurt. On the other hand, he was glad that James won them over bit by bit. They were simple minds now. Nick sighed, looking at his once best friend Matt who enjoyed his breakfast too. He hoped they'd stop overdosing one day, so he could really make up to them. For now, he had to admit this was working, too. Matt returned his gaze promptly. He waved a hand in front of Nick's face. “Hey, Nicky, you're still with us?” Nick blinked. “Yeah...only in thoughts...” “What are you up to now?” Nick must've looked startled, because Matt put a hand on his shoulder. “No, no, no, it's fine. This is all great!” The others nodded. “Don't worry, we're at your side, whatever is your next coup.” He made Nick smile and also blink more. Someone was cutting onions all of a sudden. “Would you mind if I talk to James first?” He gave the new manager a look. “As long as you don't forget about us”, Matt urged him. “Don't worry...”

Later, he helped James with the dishes, so he could talk to the other man in private. “What's our next plan?”, he asked worriedly. “We can create a new record by ourselves, but we need gigs. And promotion.” “Well, the biggest event of the year is already coming up”, James explained and Nick searched for information in his brain. “You mean Christmas?” James smiled. “The Victory Memorial Day, Nicky. And guess who's gonna be the main act?” “M...Me?” The other man gave him a meaningful look. “I made it?” “Of course, my friend! The Make Believes are what everyone is talking about! You're more exciting than Coconut Joy! This is better than what I hoped for when I first met you.” Nick almost let a plate fall when he dashed into the other man's arms and hugged him tightly. James gasped, taken by surprise. “You made me a star again”, Nick whispered. “We made it, Nick”, James corrected him softly. “And now it's time to reap our reward.” Nick didn't see how his eyes lit up for a second.

They consensually parted from each other for the next couple of hours. Nick said he needed to go for a memorial walk because he wasn't done saying goodbye to his beloved ones. James' reaction was understanding. The manager also needed to see through Nick's documents and needed some time alone for that. Nick's first destination was a little shop where he bought flowers from the surprised keeper. Then he sought the fountain and sat down on it's brim. “Hello Morrie”, he whispered, plucking at the blue blossoms of the forget-me-not. “I kept my promise, see, I brought you flowers...” He gulped and tried to put into words what had happened in the last few days. “I'm such an imbecile”, he concluded, “...a complete idiot...and now I lost both of you...The funny thing is, or well, perhaps the thing that would bring you to the verge of a mental breakdown...I don't regret  it...I mean, I regret losing you,  I regret lying to you, but I don't regret loving Arthur...does that make sense?” He paused as if he was waiting for an answer. “I guess not...I just wish I gave you a chance...a real chance to understand me...this is what I should've done...right after I met Arthur again and figured I loved him too.” He shrugged helplessly. “Well, what use is my insight now? I'd be pushing up daisies already if I didn't have such good friends. I keep going for them...But I wish you could be with me on Memorial Day...” Once again, he imagined taking Morrie's hand, holding him close. He closed his eyes for some time, dwelling in memories. Then he knelt down before the fountain and planted the flowers. He watered them with handfuls from the basin and afterwards took his time to look at his handiwork. “There, your very own memorial”, Nick whispered proudly. He remained kneeling there for some more time, leaning against the stone brim, listening to the rippling of the water and simply relaxing, dwelling.

He got up when it was time to visit someone else. “I've got to look after Virgil now...”, he quietly said to the flowers. “I miss him too...I'll be back, my love.” Nick walked away. He began to like these strolls, they helped him to calm down. It was very helpful that he didn't have to hide since he was going out at a decent time. He didn't stop right in front of the statue this time, instead he sought a bench in the park from where he could see it without being seen. From there he viewed the scene, watched the hotel guests stroll by, or the trees in the park swaying in the wind. “I guess I'm not completely useless without you...what a surprise”, he whispered. “I wish you could see me at Memorial Day. Perhaps you wanted to leave me, but in the end, you gave me a second chance and I wonder if I made you proud. I was proud of you, my rock manager extraordinaire...” Nick smiled. Then he had to wipe a tear away, still smiling. He felt more at peace today. If that was the last chapter in his life, it wasn't too bad. Virgil had given him so many good memories. And now he was prepared to do the rest, until the end. “Rest in peace, my Virgil...I'll do my best...” Nick also dwelled in thoughts for a while, enjoying the view.

Leisurely, he went inside the hotel, seeking the lounge. He had started to like this place too. Also this time it didn't disappoint. The room was imbued with a mellowing voice, a song that felt like balm on his wounds, that told him everything would be alright. And he knew the voice, and he sensed an emotional attachment to the singer. Taking a seat at a table from where he could overlook the room, he watched Birdie, smiling. She had accompanied the piano player for a presumably spontaneous performance. The one reporter who had been lucky enough to be there eagerly took photos, but it didn't harm her show. The guests applauded her when she was finished and she bowed shortly. Nick joined in the applause. Sadly, she didn't see him when she hurried out of the lounge. She probably wasn't keen on talking to the photographer. Nick left his seat and followed her. He felt the urge to tell her something. However, it looked like the reporter had the same feeling, so Nick had to get rid of him first. He fastened his pace and approached the man who was about to follow her into the elevator.

“Where do you think you're going? I'm right here!”, he proclaimed and threw himself into a pose. “Nick Lightbearer!”, the reporter blurted out. “This is my lucky day.” Nick chuckled, enjoying the little photo session. “Don't tell me you were looking for someone else.” “How are you getting along since your manager is on holiday?”, the man unfortunately asked, unable to suppress the usual journalist's annoying habit of coming up with awkward questions. “Just peachy, actually. I have a surprise coming up for you,” Nick answered confidently. “Any hints for your longing fans?” “Well, it wouldn't be a surprise then.” Nick winked. “Ah...Why did Virgil need a break, by the way? We thought it all worked out well with the Make Believes Reunion. Are there arguments in the band?” “Not that I remember...You know, Virgil was always working very hard for me and he never took a break. He very well deserves one now and I promised to behave, so don't worry, I'll be okay.” “The fans will love to hear that”, the man said, sounding a tad bit disappointed he couldn't get a fierce reaction out of the controversial rockstar. “Still, the fans are worried. You stopped giving concerts and you don't reply to fan letters. Can you give them a message right here and now?” “I'll be back”, Nick said firmly. “I'm sorry I didn't respond to my dear fans...Tell them I'm thankful for backing me up in all those years, for ignoring all the dirty lies that go around in town and just enjoying my music. That's what I'm living for. I'm glad I can cheer them up and I'll do it again, don't worry, I'm working on a big surprise and you'll love it.” “We never see you around with the other band members. Are you sure it's alright?”

Nick would've liked to slap this prick. He was giving a tearful speech for his fans and all this guy cared about was grubbing out a scandal. “Yeah, I'm absolutely certain. Listen, I'm a bit busy actually, but I think you deserve a treat...My colleague Birdie Callagher resides in this parts, I bet she'd be happy to say a word or two to her fans as well...why don't you go into the first floor, room number 115 and pay her a visit?” The reporter lit up and forgot all his bad intentions, at least those regarding Nick Lightbearer.  “That's a splendid idea. Thank you, Mr. Lightbearer, for the brightening conversation.” With that, he hurried away, avid for the next big story. Nick wasn't sorry for fooling him, although he would probably pay for it later, when the guy would finish his article. He went into the elevator himself, when it came back, and ascended to the second floor. He made sure the coast was clear before he knocked.

“Birdie?”, he whispered. “It's me, Nick.” She opened and peeped through the crack of the door until she recognized him. She gave him a mild smile. “Hi, Nick.” “I wanted to talk to you in the lounge, but I guess you can't go back there right now without being assaulted...that guy is still around. I got him off your back but it's only a matter of time until he finds out I led him a merry dance...” “Oh dear...”, she rolled her eyes. “I guess it serves me right for not keeping my mouth shut. Thank you for saving me.” He waved her off. “No problem. Hey, you want to come over to my suite? We'd be save there, since the guy is after you.” “Is that another invitation?” “Uh...yeah...it is...if you can squeeze me into your schedule...” She smiled again and went out of her room, closing the door behind her. Nick was happy she came along, so he didn't have to wait until he randomly met her again in the lounge. Nearing his suite, he started to wonder about the state of it.  The last time he woke up in there, after his blackout, he didn't pay attention to it at all. Opening the double door, he saw that the staff had made an effort cleaning the place. After all, it had been a while since his band had used the suite for a spontaneous party. And he had slept in this bed with Morrie. ��Is something wrong?”, Birdie ripped him out of his thoughts. “Er...no...it's been a while since I've been here, that's all...It's so clean, I can't believe I ever used this...”, Nick explained, looking around. Birdie let her gaze wander around the large suite and silenced. “Ah, nevermind, didn't mean to be a killjoy...”, Nick backed away. “Why don't you take a seat?” He offered the sitting area to her, the one beyond the big sparkling disco ball. “I could make you a non-alcoholic drink too if you like.” Birdie sat down and nodded. “Yes, please.” Later, they had made themselves comfortable.

“What did you want to tell me in the lounge?”, Birdie took up the thread. “You mean, except that you have an outstanding voice?”, Nick said charmingly. She giggled. “You can tell me that, too.” “Honestly, you took me by surprise...touched my very soul...”, he admitted, “There aren't enough songs like these in the world.” She leaned back, flattered but playing it cool. “Oh, I was just...getting stuff out of my mind...I'm deep in thoughts lately, very un-wellie.” Nick nodded. “I see...it made me feel better though, so it had a sense of happiness...” “I'm glad...I'll never forget the face the pianist made when I asked him to play a song for me”, she said smiling at something in her mind. “I can imagine...doesn't happen every day.” “Hell no, I have to keep that a surprise. Stupid paparazzi would swarm the place and Davis would kick me out.” “That wet blanket.” Nick made a face. “Does he ever take Joy?” She giggled. “Only the bad badges.” “Good call.” “He's okay though...” Nick gave her a surprised look. “Yeah. He seems like he has a humour bypass, at first sight, but he's only caring for his hotel.” “His business.” “It's his baby,” she pointed out. “He won't hurt you unless you hurt it.” Nick pondered it. “It's just a building.” “But a pretty one.” Birdie looked around in the suite. Nick was reminded of Arthur for a second. “That it is”, he answered, staring into his drink.

“Nick?”, she reminded him of where he was, darting a meaningful glance at him. He looked up. “You didn't invite me just to compliment me, or did you?”, she asked with a soft voice. “Don't you like compliments?” “I do, but I also like knowing what I'm getting involved in. What are you up to, Nick Lightbearer?” He began to look a little embarrassed. “It may sound crazy...”, he said and shrugged. “I only know you for a couple of days, but I think it could work...” He darted a glance at her. Birdie didn't move. “Would you like to sing along with me at the 14th Annual Memorial Day?” Birdie opened her mouth but no sound came out. “Yeah, I know, it's a little sudden, but I couldn't help thinking about it.” Nick turned to his drink again. She looked puzzled at first and later lit up more and more. “You mean...you and me...on stage...at the biggest event of the year?” “Yeah...I think we've both been quite big this year, we deserve it.” “And your band? Would they agree to this?” “Well...right now, they're not really able to say 'no' to anything...not that I want to exploit them, but...I'm sure they'll have fun.” Birdie lifted an eyebrow. “They're just very happy at the moment”, was all Nick explained. “You don't have to answer now...just consider it. Perhaps it'll be easier for you to find a really good manager after you've been the main act at the party.” “Sure...”, she said, still overwhelmed. “We can rehearse at my place. We don't need to improvise”, he said grinning. Birdie put a hand on her chest. “This day is getting better and better...”, she gasped. Then she looked at him again. “Do you really mean it?” “You can take it to the bank.” She smiled. He could see that something else came to her mind. “Do you have a new manager?” Nick leaned back, trying not to look too proud. “Yes. He's a good friend and he's taking care of things for now. I guess I'll keep him anyway.” “Of course.” He didn't know if she was jealous or amused. Perhaps both.

Your Strong Disguise - Part 2

Pairing - Ladynoir/Adrienette

Rating- PG

Ladybug was absolutely fed up.

Guilt Tripper's sashes seemed to have an infinite life. Everytime she managed to get her hands on one of them and tear them, they would grow again from the band around her waist.

"Give up, Ladybug. You'd do a better job as a circus act than what you are pulling now." She laughed, aiming at her with her eyes again.

Ladybug vaulted away from her range. Getting close to her was impossible.

She kept on running. This was not going to work, there had to be another way-

"Gah!" She yelped as she tripped over something and fell right into Chat Noir's arms.

"Falling for me again, m'lady?" He smirked, dipping her.

Despite everything that was going on, Ladybug's heart stopped. He called her m'lady. Something he hadn't done in months, and it felt wonderful to hear it again.

"Good, you're here, kitty." She extricated herself from his arms. She had to keep her fleeting blushes in check. Now was not the time.

"As always!" He winked, and somehow Ladybug felt like he was dishing out the flirting to a 1000 today.

"There's been an Akuma. It's Lila Rossi again. Don't let her hit you. Her power is to make you remember your worst regrets and failures." She warned as she ran back towards her.

"I have absolutely none! If anyone should watch out, it's you!" He said, as he overtook her.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow. As sweet and kind as Chat could be, it wasn't unusual for him to act obnoxious sometimes.

Why did it seem like he was taking it up to a 10 today?

-------

"It hurts!" Adrien sobbed. "I can't-"

Visions flooded his mind.

First it was Nino, glaring at him. Which was exceptionally shocking considering Nino was even more sweet tempered than him.

"Why would someone like me want to be best buds with someone like you? You're nothing but a stuck-up, male version of Chloe. I should never have talked to you the minute I knew you were friends with her."

Next came Kagami.

"I cannot believe I wasted my time with someone as pathetic as you. You are so weak, Adrien! And not in just fencing, you keep breaking my heart again and again because you can't get over her!"

Next came Plagg.

"I could always find a much better Chat Noir than you." He scoffed. "You've never wanted to become a hero to save lives, you just wanted the fun out of it! No wonder Master Fu didn't trust you."

Next to him he could see Fu standing there looking disappointed.

Then Plagg spoke again.

"ADRIEN, SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Wait, no, that wasn't Plagg. It was HIS Plagg speaking.

"I can't!" He was on his knees, holding his head like it was made out of lead. "All I do is disappoint people!"

"You are quite right there." A cold, grave voice startled him.

"F-father??" Adrien stammered, seeing him tower over his pathetic state.

"Let's see. You have the lowest grades you have received in all your life, you are getting worse at fencing, and you play piano like your fingers have been frozen into ice. And that is not even the least of it."

"Father, please, stop it!" Adrien screamed.

"I'm disappointed in you. I didn't raise you to be one. I wish you were never my son."

Then Gabriel disappeared.

Leaving behind the one person Adrien never thought he would see.

"M-mom???" Was his vision fading? Was he going to be okay at last??

"Mom! I missed you so much! Where did you go? Why did you leave me?"

But his mother didn't speak. She just looked at him sadly. And somehow that felt worse than his father's anger.

"I should never have come back." She whispered before fading away.

"Serves you right, Chat Noir."

"Ladybug?" He whispered pitifully.

"You don't get to call me that. You have never been the partner I deserved!" She was behind him.

"W-what?"

"You just couldn't take no for an answer, could you?" She stomped her feet. "I hate your flirting, I hate your stupid puns, your stupid jokes and I hate you! I hate always having to clean up your mess! You couldn't even make a decent Chat Noir, how could you possibly make a decent Aspik??!"

"No, don't say that!"

"25,913 times??? And you still couldn't find a way to save me?? No one else failed me. Only you did! You lied to me, both as Adrien and Chat Noir! You made me feel like I had to be your girlfriend! I don't want to be! I hate you!"

Adrien had closed his eyes the entire time. Looking at her was painful. Breathing was painful. Moving was painful.

Then out of nowhere, Ladybug spoke again, much softer than before. "I thought you said we were in this together."

"L-ladybug?"

"No, it's Marinette."

His eyes snapped open.

"How could you?" She was crying. "You told me you had my back, and you stabbed it."

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes you did!" She cried even louder. "You didn't help me expose her lies! You cared about her feelings more than mine! You did a photoshoot with her after I got expelled by her!"

"I only did it exchange to get you back in school!"

Marinette became eerily quiet again. "It doesn't matter. It's too late."

Then suddenly everything went black.

"Adrien, wake up!" It was Plagg again. "It's okay, I cataclysmed the necklace, you're alright!"

Adrien blearily opened his eyes. He was sprawled across the stairs.

"Plagg?" He mulled.

"Oh, Adrien!" Plagg wailed as he collided with his chest for a hug.

"I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner, I didn't trust myself enough to not cataclysm you along with the necklace!"

Sighing in relief, Adrien cuddled his kwami closer. "Plagg, don't apologise. You saved my life."

"Really? You're not angry with me?" Plagg asked so sadly it nearly made Adrien cry.

"No, I'm not." He said seriously, realising how similar he and Plagg were.

"But we can't stay here." Adrien got up, clinging to the railing.

"Can you walk?" Plagg asked.

"It doesn't matter even if I can't." Adrien panted. "Plagg, Claws Out!"

---------

What was wrong with Chat??

He got himself caught in Lila's sashes and every single time she had to save him.

He threw his baton at her, and she managed to catch it and land a hit on his forehead.

And worse, they had an audience in the form of their class. Alya was filming the entire thing desperately.

"Chat, I told you direct attacks aren't working!" Ladybug shouted. "I'll just use my Lucky Charm-"

"No need for any of your complicated, convoluted plans, m'lady!" He said aggressively.

Convoluted?

He never said those things about her plans before!

"I'll just Cataclysm her sash! That's where the Akuma must be! Cataclysm!"

"WHAT? NO, STOP!" Ladybug tried to grab for his tail.

Like she predicted, Guilt Tripper simply flew out of his way, Chat tripped and ended up cataclysming the door to the janitor's closet instead.

Ladybug facepalmed loudly.

She flung her yo yo right in between Guilt Tripper's eyes, stunning her momentarily.

"This isn't over!" She vowed, picking Chat off the floor and dragging him away to the nearest empty space, the locker rooms.

She pushed him inside and locked the door.

"Chat, what has gotten into you?!" She yelled. "Why didn't you trust me enough to use my Lucky Charm??"

"Come on, m'lady it wasn't a big deal!" He scoffed, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer than he ever had before.

She knew what Chat's casual touches were like, and this wasn't one of them.

She pushed his arm away. "Yes, it's a big deal, you reckless cat! You could have gotten yourself killed!"

That was when he turned to face her fully.

And for some reason, a chill ran up Ladybug's spine.

A very familiar one that had happened only in front of another person. Felix, Adrien's cousin.

That never happened before. And not in front of him! This was Chat Noir! Her silly, goofy cat!

"Well." He purred seductively. "You were there to save me, weren't you, m'lady?"

"Huh?" She stuttered. "Wait. You used your Cataclysm. Why isn't your miraculous beeping?"

Chat ignored her, pacing towards her as she took several steps back away from him.

"You're just denying the inevitable, m'lady. You and I are meant for each other. Don't you know? The cat and the ladybug are drawn towards each other. They're soulmates."

What the hell?

Ladybug's foot hit the metal of one of the lockers.

Before she could move, he lunged for her, trapping her in between his arms.

"You-you-"

The look in his eyes did not belong to Chat Noir.

Not once did he ever look at her like she was some delicious meal ready to be gobbled up.

"You love me, Ladybug." He purred. "Stop denying it and let me-AGH!"

Ladybug had kicked him between his legs. He stumbled off his balance and she shoved him away from her.

"I don't know what you are but you are NOT Chat Noir!" She growled furiously. "He's a flirt but he would never corner me like that!"

The fake looked up at her from where she had knocked him down.

Then he smirked evilly, giving away his true colours. He got up easily and Ladybug flinched away from him.

"I must say, I underestimated how much you trust my lesser version."

Ladybug punched him. Hard.

So hard he went flying towards the locker closest to the door she had stupidly locked.

"Shut. Up!" She yelled. "You'll never be half the person he is! Don't you dare talk about him that way!"

CRASH!

The door was kicked open and there stood the real Chat Noir in all his leather clad glory.

"You heard the lady." He said, shouldering his baton. "Don't talk about me in that way!"

"Chat?" She sighed, relieved.

"Like I'm actually going to listen!" The fake one scoffed. "Cataclysm!" He yelled, taking a running start towards him, palm outstretched.

Chat shrugged. "Oh well, atleast I tried."

He casually took a wide sidestep to the right. The fake Chat Noir missed him by several inches and to add fuel to the fire, tripped over his real counterpart's foot causing him and his Cataclysm to completely disappear behind the ravaged remains of the entrance.

"Hey there, Bugaboo." Chat grinned, leaning against the locker and crossing his arms. "Sorry I took so long."

Ladybug nearly came undone from the relief that flooded her veins.

She ran up to him and threw her arms around his middle.

"Woah-" Chat stumbled from her force.

"Where were you??" She cried into his chest. "I got- I got tricked by that monster- into thinking he was you and I stupidly fell for it-!"

"Hey, Bug." Chat soothed, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer. "It's okay. I'm here now."

"I'm s-so sorry I didn't recognise him sooner- if I had none of this would have happened-"

"Hey, I am the last person you should be apologizing to." Chat said into her hair. "Don't you remember the Ladybug sentimonster? I totally fell for it. You figured out who he was on your own."

Ladybug desperately wanted to tell him how she had almost gotten assaulted twice in three months, but something else Chat said caught her spark.

"Wait!" She said, pulling away from him abruptly and wiping her tears. "Sentimonster! That's what he is! That's why he is able to use his Cataclysm again and again without running out of time!"

"Wait, are you saying Mayura sent a sentimonster of me to distract you from defeating the villain?"

"Uh huh." She squared her shoulders. "And right now, we need to find a way to release his amok before going after Guilt Tripper, because he is far more dangerous."

"Lucky Charm!" She called out and a roll of red-and-black spotted duct tape fell into her hands.

"Duct tape?" Chat was confused. "How is that going to help us?"

"I don't know, but atleast I can differentiate you from him." She tore off a bit of tape and stuck it around both his wrists. "Don't take them off." She pleaded.

"You have my word." He said seriously.

Tags:

@gangstaluigi613 @winchestersoldiersblog @reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo @gwennex @ariana-the-fangirl

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Kingdom Perspective (15)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, panic, kidnapping, keeping/treating people like pets, threats, unwanted touching/grabbing, crying, and almost drowning.

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

—————————————————————————————————-

 Roman woke up bright and early the next day and looked down at Virgil, still asleep. He smiled sadly, knowing today was their last full day together. He managed to get out of his duties today though, thankfully. He could spend all day with Virgil, without endangering him. Today was going to be a lazy hang out day, Roman decided. So instead of getting up and dressed like he normally did he snuggled back into the covers and waited for Virgil to wake up.

It was quite a while later when Virgil finally began to stir. He blinked his eyes open, surprised that he had woken up on his own. Usually Roman the early bird got him up at the crack of dawn. Instead, Virgil rolled over to see the giant prince was still in bed, watching him.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, an amused smile on his lips. “Good morning.”

 “Good morning sleeping beauty.” Roman chuckled. “Have a good rest?”

“Mhmm.” Virgil sat up. “But why no wake up call? I thought being a prince was a full-time gig, you get fired or something?”

 Roman snorted, cover it up with his hand. “Uh, no. I took the day off. I figured, since it’s our last day together we could have a bit of a...lazy day. Where we just hang out.” Roman explained.

“I didn’t think you had a lazy setting.” Virgil observed.

 “I usually do not but I am willing to make an exception for this.” He motioned towards the both of them and then offered his hand to Virgil. “Feeling hungry?”

Virgil just nodded, climbing on.

 Roman got out of bed and looked between the desk and the door before heading towards the door, Virgil still in hand.

“Where are we going?” Virgil asked, having never accompanied Roman when the giant got food. Usually he was still asleep; or busy being mad at Roman.

 “Well, I figured you could come with me to pick breakfast up.” Roman paused for a moment. “Um, if that’s okay?” If needed he could turn around and drop Virgil off in his room.

“No, yeah, that’s fine.” Virgil shrugged. “I mean, unless someone’s gonna attack you again while you get toast.”

 Roman chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, no, we’ll be fine.” Roman continued towards the kitchen, shifting his hands to move Virgil onto his shoulder.

 “Greetings everyone!” Roman called out. The cooks nodded at him in greeting. “What’s for breakfast today?”

Virgil quickly grabbed onto the collar of Roman’s pajamas, paling slightly as he remembered just how tall Roman actually was. Not wanting to fall, Virgil scrambled closer to Roman’s neck for stability.

 “We have prepared oatmeal today, sire.” A cook said, motioning towards the bowl. Roman hummed, frowning as he thought about Virgil eating the oatmeal. Yeah...that wasn’t to work. 

 “Could I have some toast as well? Perhaps with some jam?” Roman asked. The cook simply nodded and retreated further into the kitchen to get it. She returned with another plate of toast and jam and gave both the bowl and plate to Roman. Roman nodded. “Thank you.”

 He turned and left, heading back towards his room.

“Careful!’ Virgil warned, grip tightening as he was moved up and down with Roman’s steps.

 “Sorry.” Roman slowed down a little, making it to his room and setting the plates down on the desk. He then grabbed Virgil off his shoulder and set him down as well. He took a seat. “Alright!” Roman tore off a piece of bread and jam and handed it to Virgil.

Virgil glanced at the food, only now noticing how Roman had specifically requested a cleaner meal. “...thanks.” Virgil said genuinely, taking the bread and taking a bite.

 “You are most welcome.” Roman said, digging into his oatmeal. After taking a few bites, he looked down at Virgil. “Honestly, I...can’t believe you leave tomorrow.” Roman chuckled sadly. “Where has the time gone?”

“...mostly there.” Virgil admitted, pointing over towards the cage still sitting at the other end of the desk. Though the time might have flown by for Roman, to Virgil most of it had dragged on. 

 Roman winced. “Right.” Roman was silent as he ate the rest of his breakfast.

Virgil frowned down at his own portion of food. Why had he said that? Now he had ruined the mood again. 

 Roman set his dishes off to the side to take back later. “All done?” He asked, looking between Virgil and the plate of toast.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Virgil nodded, pushing away the rest of the food. There was always so much food, it was insane. This place could easily solve all the starvation problems on Earth.

 Roman nodded and put the dish with the other one. He then turned to Virgil. “So, what do you wanna do on this lazy day of ours?” He asked.

“Well, I don’t know.” Virgil admitted. “Usually a lazy day for me consists of netflix binging all day, but something tells me you don’t have that.”

 Roman blinked. “What’s a netflix?” Or binging, for that matter.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

 “No, I’m serious.” Roman said. “I… I know next to nothing about your world...or your life for that matter...Though, I supposed I never really asked, huh?” He had been so caught up, seeing Virgil as a pet, that he hadn’t cared about his previous life. The thought made Roman sick. How could he have ever been like that?

“I just assumed you didn’t care.” Virgil rubbed his arm. “But I mean, to be fair, I didn’t ask a lot about your world either.”

 “Well...to be honest, I didn’t, at first.” Roman admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I do now. And I don’t blame you for not asking anything. After all, why would you want to know more about a world that treats you like a, um, pet.”

“Indeed.” Virgil pulled a face, remembering his first few days here. “To put it in kid-friendly terms, I was, and still am, not this place’s biggest fan.”

 “Yes, I can understand why.” His people still saw Virgil and Patton as nothing more than pets, after all. “But, um, if you wouldn’t mind...could you tell me a bit about your world? And maybe what your life is like?”

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked. “I mean, there’s certainly a lot to tell, but I doubt I could give you a history of the entire Earth in a day. Nor do I want to, that sounds like far too much work.”

 “Well, no, I don’t expect you to tell me that much. Let’s just start with…” Roman thought for a moment. “Well, let's start with you and go from there.” Roman grinned.

“Me?” Virgil leaned back, wondering where to start. “Well, I started in your typical nuclear family. Two suburban parents, an older brother who set impossibly high standards. Grew up in his shadow. Then one day brother goes missing, drama drama drama, I get shoved into the limelight where I fail spectacularly, aaaand now I’m the family disappointment serving coffee to make my way through community college.”

Virgil said this all with an almost playful tone, rushing through his explanation. He wasn’t fond on repeating the same details of his tragic life; he had already had to relive that pain so many times.

 Roman winced. “That sounds...rough.” To say the least. “How, uh, how long has your brother been missing?” Roman asked, hoping it was an okay question to ask.

“A year, year and a half?” Virgil shrugged, pretending he didn’t know when the answer immediately came to mind: 15 months. “Thomas was just there and then one day...he wasn’t. Vanished without a trace. Mom was heartbroken, kept going on about how her darling baby boy was missing. I kept getting sent out to look for him, saying it was my fault he went missing. I mean, they weren’t exactly wrong.” Virgil gave a dark chuckle. “Last I saw him was when he stormed out of the house after we got in an argument. I told him I never wanted to see him again.”

 Roman’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh I am...so sorry.” Roman didn’t know what else to say. “Is it...alright if I ask what the argument was about? I mean, you don’t have to tell me, of course! Just, if you want to.” Roman had to admit he was curious but the subject still seemed a bit sore for Virgil, so he understood if Virgil would rather not talk about it.

Virgil blinked, surprised he felt like sharing. He never told anybody this much. “Well, ah… it was actually about me. Thomas was trying to help me, saying I needed to get out more and get my life back on track. I mean, he was right, I was headed down a bad path, but I didn’t need to be told that, ya know? Plus I’ve always had this thing about talking to new people, Thomas always made it look so easy with all his friends and…” Virgil cringed, remembering how those friends had all flocked to their doorstep looking for Thomas after he went missing.

“Well, anyway, I lashed out.” Virgil continued. “I told him to mind his own business and that it’s my life to ruin if I so choose.”

 “Virgil…” Honestly, Roman couldn’t picture Logan going missing like that, suddenly and without warning. And having those be his last words to him? Roman could picture the guilt Virgil must be feeling. “Well...I mean, there is always a chance you’ll find him again. Right? And then you can make up.” Roman tried to give Virgil a comforting smile.

Virgil gave a humorless snort at that. “Yeah, sure.” The human rolled his eyes. “It’s been over a year. If Thomas was still around he would have shown his face by now. Either he’s dead, or… he never wants to see me again.”

 “I don’t think that’s true!” Roman exclaimed. “By the sounds of things, your brother really cares about you. I doubt one argument, no matter how intense it was, would change that.”

“Okay, fine, whatever, Thomas was perfect.” Virgil snapped. “I get it, he’s a saint and he would have forgiven me even if I didn’t deserve it but instead he went and got himself mugged in an alleyway or something.”

 “Hey, I’m not saying he is.” Roman said. “I’m saying that as a brother myself. I...look, I’ve already told you Logan and I have never really...clicked before. He’s always gotten more attention since he was next in line and I was left behind, and all that.” Roman looked away. “But...even so, I...care about my brother. I always have and I always will. And if anything were to happen to him, I…” Roman sighed and turned back to Virgil.

 “All I am saying is, nobody's perfect. Not you or your brother but...if that whole argument started because he was worried about you? I honestly cannot see your brother not forgiving you.” Roman paused for a second. “After all, you forgive him, don’t you?”

“Of course I forgive him.” Virgil let out an involuntary sniffle, his eyes having begun to tear up. He wiped at them furiously, hating the way he was showing weakness. “I just haven’t forgiven myself.”

 Roman wanted nothing more than to reach out, scoop Virgil up and comfort him. In fact, his hands were already starting to reach forward but he restrained himself enough to ask. “May I?” He asked softly.

Ugh, now I’m being pitied again. Virgil felt his tears begin to drip down his face as he nodded, knowing that despite everything, he was in desperate need of some human- er, giant- contact.

 At the nod, Roman wasted no time in scooping Virgil up and holding him close to his chest. “I’m sorry you’re going through this...and that I can’t be more help. You deserve forgiveness just as much as your brother does. From him and yourself.”

Virgil’s tears turned to sobs at Roman’s words, having never heard anybody tell him he deserved forgiveness, too. Virgil clutched at Roman’s shirt, clinging to it desperately as his chest tightened, breathing getting difficult as his tears threatened to overwhelm him.

“It hurts.” Virgil admitted, referring to a pain greater than physical.

 “I know.” Roman said softly. He gently rubbed Virgil’s back as he continued to cry. “You’ve been holding this in for so long. I’m so sorry you had to go through all this alone.” Roman knew all too well about dealing with things by himself and how just...bad it felt.

I miss him so much. Virgil found himself unable to even convey his thoughts as his breathing became shallow, and his energy had to be refocused into the sole act of crying his eyes out. Soon Virgil’s bubble became a hazy mixture of signals, only vaguely aware of the world around him as he focused on steadying his breathing to Roman’s own. It was a pleasant sensation, feeling Roman’s great chest rise and fall with a steady rhythm. It was a constant, something Virgil desperately needed at the moment. 

Slowly Virgil’s breathing began to even out, lulled back to a normal pace with the help of Roman’s touch. Virgil let out a long sigh, feeling incredibly exhausted and vulnerable now that the wave had passed.

 Roman kept Virgil to his chest, still rubbing his back gently. “How are you feeling?” He asked softly.

Virgil nodded, keeping his head decidedly down. “...sorry about that.” Virgil muttered. He cringed, noticing what a mess he had made on Roman’s shirt. 

 “Hey, don’t worry about it.” Roman smiled. “I can tell that you needed this.”

“Ugh, yeah I did.” Virgil winced. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed having someone around who would listen, someone who actually cared. And to find that in Roman? The giant prince who kidnapped him? The whole thing was so bizarre.

“Thanks.” Virgil said quietly. “That was...that was good.”

 “I’m glad.” He finally pulled Virgil away from himself and looked down at him. “How about we get some lunch. Get your energy back up, hmm?”

“Mhmm.” Virgil nodded, covering his mouth as he gave a yawn. Though they had slept late, Virgil now felt like he could simply fall back asleep.

 Roman noticed how worn out Virgil was now and bit his lip. “Or, we could take a little nap. Whichever you prefer.”

“No, no, I’m good.” Virgil insisted. He certainly didn’t want to ruin Roman’s day by sleeping it away, especially since it was the last day they’d have. The least Virgil could do was be there for him back, just this once. “We can do lunch.”

 Roman grinned. “Fantastic! Do you wish to accompany me again? Or would you rather stay here?”

“I…” Virgil paused, realizing he just wanted to do what would make Roman happier. After all, he felt like he owed Roman after that. “Whatever you prefer.”

 Roman frowned a little at that. “Well what I prefer is whatever you prefer.” Roman said.

“Uh, no you don’t.” Virgil crossed his arms stubbornly. “I know you’ve got a preference.”

 “Maybe I do.” Roman admitted. “But I am done doing things you don’t want to do. So please, tell me what it is you would rather do so that I may respect your decision.”

“Okay, well my decision is that I want to forfeit my decision to you.” Virgil retorted. “So by all means, I insist: what do you want?”

 “I want you to tell me what you want.” Roman huffed. “I do not want to make the same mistakes again. So please just tell me.”

“You’re not making a mistake if I’m telling you to do it.” Virgil grit his teeth.

 “Well, how do I know you aren’t just saying that because you think it’s what I want.” Roman paused. “You...aren’t doing it because of that...are you?”

“...no.” Somewhere along the conversation Virgil had gotten lost. He shook his head, getting annoyed. “Whatever! Just do what you want.”

 “...Alright.” Roman sighed and set Virgil down on the desk. He grabbed the dirty dishes as he stood up. “I’ll be right back.” He then exited the room and headed towards the kitchen.

Virgil glared at the door, sensing that Roman was only doing this because it’s what he thought Virgil wanted: even after all that hassle, Roman was trying to be considerate.

How dare he.

 Roman huffed as he dropped off the dirty dishes and grabbed lunch, heading back towards his room. He entered his room and set the plate down, which held a simple ham sandwich. He then took his seat and busied himself with cutting a small piece for Virgil. He purposefully didn’t say anything to Virgil during all this.

“That’s not what you wanted to do.” Virgil crossed his arms, giving Roman a hard glare.

 “Maybe not but I know it’s what you wanted.” Roman said, sliding the piece of sandwich more towards Virgil. “And like I said, I am done doing things you don’t want to do.”

“That’s not true, I was fine with either.” Virgil took the food begrudgingly. “Look, if I really cared I could just take you up on that day of doing what I say you still owe me. As it stands, seeing you all cooperative is just...creepy.”

 “What? How is that creepy?” Roman was just going to go ahead and ignore what Virgil said about their deal. He had forgotten about that and wished for it to stay that way. “I’m trying to listen better. I’m doing exactly what you wanted me to do in the very beginning! What? Do you want me to go back to how I was before? Making you do tricks and keeping you in a cage? Taking you wherever I wanted without so much as a warning? Is that what you want?” Roman was glaring at the human now.

“No!” Virgil ducked his head, a bit intimidated. “Obviously not, but that doesn’t mean I have to dictate every little thing we do either!”

 Roman dropped his glare and sighed, looking down at the table. “I just...I’m trying, okay? I’m just trying to make up for how much of a jerk I was to you. For how much of a...monster I was.” Cause he had been, hadn’t he? He was sure Virgil had seen him that way. And honestly, he couldn’t help but agree.

“I understand that, Roman.” Virgil assured him. “And I appreciate it. But that doesn’t mean you have to give up all your wants and opinions too. Putting me in charge just feels...weird. We can just be on equal footing, like normal people.”

 Roman nodded. “Yes...equal footing. That sounds...nice.” Roman lifted his head and gave Virgil a small smile. “It’s just…” The smile went away. “I’ve uh...never really been on equal footing with anyone before.” Even Logan had always had a higher status them him.

“Right, the whole royalty thing.” Virgil had almost forgotten about that. Of course, looking at the elegant decor adorning everything from the rug to the bedspread to even Roman’s shoulders, it was hard to miss.

 “Yeah.” Roman confirmed. “Everyone is either below me, or above me. I’m in this...weird middle ground.” And Roman hated it.

“Isn’t only one person above you?” Virgil asked, tilting his head as he considered that. “If Logan dies, do you become king?”

 “Well, yes.” Roman said. “But before that, it was always my father, then my brother, and then me. And then everyone else in the kingdom is below us. But my father and brother were more on equal footing than I was ever allowed to be. Logan even got his own throne, something I never received. Though...I suppose his old throne is mine now…” That was strange to think about.

“Congratulations.” Virgil’s mouth crept into a slow smile. “So, if we’re on equal footing, does that mean the throne is half mine?”

 Roman’s lips quirked up. “I don’t think it works that way.” He chuckled. “Anyway, all I’m saying is that I’m used to either telling people what to do, or listening to people tell me what to do. There isn’t a whole lot of...compromising going on. But I would love to give it a try.”

“Great.” Virgil rubbed his hands together. “So, first rule of compromising, you lay all your cards on the table. Lay it on me, Roman. What do you actually want to do today?”

 Roman blinked. “W-Well...I wasn’t lying when I said I just wanted to spend today relaxing and hanging out with you. Especially since I’m going to be so busy starting tomorrow, with all my new duties. And with you leaving tomorrow...this is really our last chance to just...hang out.”

“Right.” Virgil nodded in understanding. “So what do you want to do to hang out?”

 “Well…” Roman thought for a moment before an idea came to mind. He grinned. “We could go swimming!”

Virgil’s eyebrows shot straight up into his hairline. “...swimming?” That certainly wasn’t what he had expected.

 “Yeah! We have our own private pool here inside the castle. No one else except my father, Logan and I are allowed to use it. So we would be all alone.” Roman explained, knowing Virgil didn’t want to be around other giants.

Unless one of those two decides to go for a dip. “Wouldn’t that be a little...unsafe?” Virgil tried to be gentle in his critiquing, not wanting to shoot Roman down completely, but the idea of swimming with a literal giant was quite terrifying. The waves would be like a tsunami.

 Roman hummed. It could be quite dangerous. It would be as if Virgil was swimming in the ocean with how deep the pool would be to him. But...that gave Roman another idea. He grinned and stood up. “I’ve got just the thing!” He ran to a small storage box he kept in the corner of his room and rummaged through it. When he found what he was looking for, his grin grew.

 “What if you used this!” Roman walked back to the desk and revealed a toy boat he had had as a child that he never had the heart to throw away. “And look! It’s just your size!”

“Why do you even have that?” Virgil asked incredulously. It looked like quite a vessel, but Virgil realized it must have been just a toy to Roman.

 “Got it as a kid and I never had the heart to throw it away.” Roman shrugged. “But see! You can use this in the pool, you don’t even have to get in the water!”

“Does it even float?” While it looked sturdy to Virgil, if it was only meant to be a toy there was a high chance that it wouldn’t perform very well as an actual boat.

 “Of course it floats. I’m a prince, I only got the very best toys.” Roman said. “Come on, let’s give it a try! If it doesn’t end up working out, we’ll just stop and figure out something else to do.”

Virgil glanced at the boat again. He didn’t think this was a very safe idea, but he trusted Roman. One day of risky adventures wouldn’t kill him...hopefully.

“...okay.” Virgil agreed, trying to look upbeat rather than anxious. “We can try it, I guess.”

 “Great!” Roman exclaimed. He set the boat down and ran into his closet the change. He came back out in a pair of shorts and a simple tunic. “Did you want to change too?” Roman asked.

“Well, I don’t think it really matters.” Virgil glanced down at his clothes. He had a feeling he’d be getting wet regardless, but he didn’t have many clothes to begin with, and the majority of the time he would be on a boat. He should be fine.

 “Alright.” Roman grabbed the boat in one hand and offered his other hand to Virgil.

“Do you know how to sail?” Virgil asked, climbing on. He certainly didn’t.

 “I’ve sailed once or twice but if anything I can just push the boat along.” Roman said with a shrug. He exited out of the room and headed down a hallway he hadn’t taken Virgil down before. When he got to the double doors he pushed them open and motioned inside. “Ta-da!”

Virgil’s eyes went wide as saucers, barely able to comprehend the sheer magnitude of the body of water before him. Virgil was unable to tell if it was merely gigantic to him or extravagant for a pool regardless, but given he was inside a castle Virgil guessed the later. The water spread out for what could actually be several miles, and if someone had declared this to be an ocean rather than a swimming pool Virgil would not have doubted it for a second.

 “So? What do you think? Pretty great, right? We have people year round who tend to it to keep it looking this good.” Roman spoke, coming more into the room. He set the boat and Virgil down on a side table as he pulled off his tunic.

“It’s big.” Virgil nodded, vocalizing the first adjective that came to mind.

 “Yes and trust me, it’s big to my kind as well. Nothing but the best for royalty.” Roman explained. He went over to a side closet and got out a towel, putting it over one of the chairs surrounding the pool. He then held out a hand for Virgil. “Ready?”

“I guess so.” Virgil said, climbing on, but as he glanced at the water Virgil couldn’t help but think about the fact he wasn’t a very good swimmer.

 “Great!” Roman grabbed the boat with his other hand and then headed over towards the pool. He got in slowly and then moved a bit away from the steps. The water came up to a little above his waist in the shallow end but he thought here was a good place to set Virgil up.

 He put the boat down and then carefully held the hand holding Virgil next to it so he could climb on. “She’s all yours captain.” Roman chuckled.

Virgil gave a two-fingered salute, then focused on the task at hand. He steadied himself by putting his arms out as he stepped onto the boat, feeling it rock beneath him. Quickly Virgil grabbed onto the main mast, centered in the middle. Slowly the rocking returned to a gentle swaying motion.

 Roman grinned. Virgil just looked so cute on the boat. “So? How is it? Everything seem to be in order?” He studied the boat carefully to see if it was tilting or sinking but it seemed fine.

“Well, I’m still afloat, so I count that as a win.” Virgil gave Roman a nervous smile, feeling the Giant’s movements cause the boat to rise and fall with a greater magnitude than before.

 “Perfect! I knew it would work.” Roman grinned. “Now, I’m going to go for a quick lap. I’ll be right back.” Roman said, ready to actually swim a little. He moved a little away from Virgil and the boat before going under and swimming to the other end.

Virgil moved carefully closer to the edge, peering over the side. Underwater, Roman’s shadowy form almost looked like some sort of monstrous sea creature. It was weird, looking all around his tiny boat. It truly felt like he was adrift in the middle of the ocean.

 When Roman was on his way back, he could help but get an idea as he looked at Virgil and his boat. With a mischievous smirk on his face, he went under and started to slowly sneak up on Virgil.

Virgil glanced back where he had last seen Roman, only to realize the prince was missing. Virgil did a double-take, trying to peer into the further waters. How did one lose a Giant?

 Roman quietly rose up behind Virgil but only up to his nose. He saw that Virgil hadn’t spotted him yet and grinned before pulling himself under the water again.

“Roman?” Virgil called out, cupping his hands to his mouth. Virgil began to get worried. Was Roman alright out there? But what if he wasn’t? There wasn’t exactly anything Virgil could do about it. By the looks of things, this boat didn’t have any oars. Virgil smacked his forehead. Of course, why would it? It was just a toy, after all.

 Roman figured it was time and slowly rose up fully behind Virgil, putting on a fake evil laugh. “Well, well, what do we have here? A puny captain sailing into my territory?” 

Virgil felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up despite himself. He whirled around, finally spotting Roman as the boat swayed. The human felt a sense of relief wash over him, glad to see his anxiety had just run wild again. Roman was fine.

“What’s with the evil voice?” Virgil raised an amused eyebrow. “Are we playing make believe? What are you, twelve?”

 “How dare you!” Roman said, staying in character. He narrowed his eyes. “This is very real and I advise you think twice before you insult the sea monster of the Sanders Seas.”

“The sea monster of the seas doesn’t exactly look very threatening.” Virgil glanced up and down Roman’s body. “He also doesn’t look like he’s made for the sea.”

 “Well, uh…” Roman faltered for a second before coming up with an excuse. “This is my humanoid form. If you were to see my true form, you would die on the spot.” Nailed it.

Virgil let out an audible snort. “Uh huh. And what exactly is the sea monster going to do to me if I keep insulting him?”

 “Well…” Roman smirked and then sent a small splash of water toward Virgil, causing the boat to bob in the water quite a bit. “Let’s just say I hope you’re good swimmer.”

“Hey!” Virgil took a quick step backwards, narrowly avoiding getting wet. He gave Roman a glare, grabbing the mast once again as the boat tipped dangerously.

 “Now you see the danger you are truly in?” Roman said with a smirk. “If you do not leave this place then I shall send you to your watery grave...or maybe I shall go a different route. After all, I’ve never had the pleasure of tasting a human before.” The thought made actual Roman want to gag but he figured a sea monster would say something like that.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Virgil searched Roman’s face, trying to see how far Roman actually would dare.

 Roman sunk down and got closer so he was practically face to face with Virgil. “Do not test me, little one.” 

This close, Virgil felt tempted to throw something at Roman. He glanced around, looking for a viable item. Only now did Virgil notice a chest that was attached to the side of the ship. Virgil went over to it, surprised when it actually opened. He had half expected it to just be a decoration.

Reaching in, Virgil found a variety of pirate-like tools, all human sized and clearly toys. He pulled the armful out, dumping them onto the deck.

“Why do you have these?” Virgil turned to Roman, inspecting the toy sword from the set.

 Roman blinked, breaking character for a moment. “Oh! Those are my old accessories for my old pirate doll! I don’t have the doll anymore...but I guess I kept all his add ons on the boat.”

“So I’m your replacement pirate doll?” Virgil raised a judgemental eyebrow. This game was beginning to make a lot more sense.

 “What? No!” Roman huffed. “I just thought we could play a little game...to make this trip more fun. That’s all…”

Virgil stared at Roman thoughtfully. The human had never been very good at make believe games, but he could tell that this was something the prince wanted to do. And Virgil had agreed to come here so Roman could have fun… thus decided, Virgil decided to give it his best.

“En guarde, beast.” Virgil smirked, throwing the oversized plastic pirate hat on his head and pointing the sword in Roman’s direction.

 Roman blinked and then grinned before getting back into character. He chuckled. “You actually think that puny thing is going to do anything against me? Don’t make me laugh.”

“Stay back, uh, matey!” Virgil swung it in Roman’s general direction, using the techniques the Giant taught him before. “This is my pirate ship, and I’ll be a dead man before this vessel is threatened by the likes of you!”

 Roman leaned back as Virgil swung, once again standing to his full height. “I can arrange that.” Roman grinned evilly and then sent another wave towards Virgil and the boat.

“Woah!” Virgil clung fiercely to one of the ropes, the boat tilting precariously before settling back down. Virgil felt his heart still pounding from the slight scare, but for once the fear was exhilarating.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Virgil shouted, scurrying up to the crow’s nest to get as high as he could, facing Roman with his weapon once more. “Come at me, you coward!”

 Roman’s eyes narrowed. “Oh you have asked for it now.” He lifted his arms up. “By the power of the water and sea, I summon a wave to wipe you out!” Roman flopped his arms into the water sending another wave, one that was bigger than the other, towards Virgil.

Virgil’s eyes widened, watching the wave approach that reached above his head despite his heightened altitude. “...uh oh.”

A moment later the wave came crashing down, soaking Virgil to the core and completely tipping the boat. Virgil clung to the crow’s nest as best he could, but the sheer momentum forced the human to release his grip and he was flung over the side, sinking below the waves.

oh, the weather outside is frightful ch. 2

summary: It's the biggest snowstorm seen in recent years, and all Morgan Stark wants is for her big brother to be there so that he can celebrate Christmas with her.

word count: 2,333

rating: G

chapter 1

read on ao3

The sun had risen in its full glory only to be almost immediately masked by the numerous gray clouds in the sky, and the rain that had woken up Morgan several hours earlier had now turned to snow by the time she'd opened her eyes once more. She looked out the window with excitement, tearing the covers off of her and nearly falling off of the bed in her haste to look out of it. "Wow." She whispered, nose pressed up against the glass, her breath fogging it up. There was only a thin covering of snow that lay on the ground, but it showed no signs of stopping, and Morgan was excited as to what that meant in the near future. 

If it didn't stop, then that would mean that she could play with Peter outside in the snow. They could build snowmen and make snow angels and possibly even have a snowball fight. And to make it even better, this was the first year that she'd be able to do that with him. She couldn't wait. She ran out of the room, heading towards the kitchen where she heard Mommy talking to Daddy as she cooked breakfast.

"It's snowing!" She announced to them as soon as she came in, just in case they weren't yet aware. This was very important information and she just had to make sure they knew about the wondrous thing that was occurring just outside their front door.

"Yes, it is!" Mommy said with a laugh as she flipped a pancake over, bacon sizzling on the frying pan next to her. 

Daddy was leaning against the counter, and Morgan was pleased to notice that the Christmas tree stickers she had put on his prosthetic arm the day before were still attached, albeit now peeling slightly at the edges.

Despite -or perhaps because of- the early morning a cup of coffee was already in his hand. Morgan didn't know why he liked the stuff so much. She had once tried to sneak a drink of it when he wasn't looking and had almost instantly started choking at how bitter it was. 

"Bleh." She had said, spitting into her sleeve and frantically wiping her tongue to get the atrocious taste off. "That's gross! How can you drink that?" 

Daddy shrugged and just told her, "It's an acquired taste," before taking another long sip of the offending brew.

Morgan had nodded solemnly at him before going to find Mommy. "Mommy," she said, hoping that her mother would understand the grave importance of what Morgan was about to tell her. "Don't ever let Daddy choose what we're having to eat, because he has a bad 'quired taste."

"Okay, sweetie." Mommy said with her hand covering her mouth, unable to mask her shakes of laughter. Morgan didn't know what was so funny, but she hoped that Mommy would take her concern in to consideration. Unless it turned out that Mommy had poor taste in food as well, and in that case Morgan felt that she would just have to start planning their meals herself.

Morgan now ran up to Daddy and gave him a hug, wrapping her arms around his legs and glowering at the cup he held as she did so. :

"Hey, Maguna." He said, running the cool, metal fingers of his prosthetic arm through her hair. "Did you sleep well? You know, after waking up and all."

"Mmm-Hmm" she nodded, pressing her face against his hip. She looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "Can I play in the snow with Peter when he gets here?"

Daddy cleared his throat, getting down on his knees so that he could be face to face with her. "Actually, Morgan, me and Mommy wanted to talk to you about that."

Morgan tilted her head, confused. "About what?"

Daddy sighed, stealing himself for whatever he was about to tell her. "We don't know if Peter will be able to make it for Christmas this year. It's just started to snow here, but it's getting really bad in the city.                                                

Morgan pouted. "But he promised. You can't break promises."

Daddy smiled sadly at her. "Listen even if Peter can't make it right now he'll still probably come as soon as the storm is over and the snow melts. It might be a few days, but we will have Christmas with him then."

"But it's not the same!" Morgan complained, stomping her foot on the ground, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I know." He sighed before hugging her again. "I know."     

       The thing was Morgan had always known she had a brother. She saw it in the photographs of the teenage boy that lay scattered around the house. She saw it in the sad look Daddy got whenever he saw something about the snap. She saw it in the way he held her close whenever she was sick. But, apparently, she was the only one who did, because when she had asked Daddy about the brother she had never met, he just looked confused. 

 "Brother?" He questioned her one night after she had asked for a story about him. It had been late and they were sitting on the couch together, Morgan perched on his lap while she played with a toy War Machine in her hands" Morgan you don't have a brother."         

 "Yes I do!" Morgan said, shaking her head at her Daddy's silliness. "He's the boy in the pictures!"

 Morgan didn't know what she had done wrong, because one second Daddy was holding her and the next he had pushed her off  of him and ran out of the room.

 "Hey, Daddy!" She said indignantly as her toy fell out of her hands and went halfway beneath the couch. 

 It wasn't until the next night when she was tucked in her bed that Daddy came and apologized for what happened. "Hey Morgan. I'm really sorry about what happened yesterday. I wish you'd hadn't seen that. It's just -" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Who told you that Pe- that boy was your brother." He swallowed heavily.

 Morgan shrugged. "No one. It's just, well, Mommy and Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy talk about him sometimes and how you were close to him, so I just thought that made him my brother. And you never talk about him so I just wanted to hear about him from you. I'm sorry, Daddy."

 Daddy didn't speak for a long time, looking off into the corner of her room as if seeing something that she couldn't perceive. "Yeah, I guess he was sort of your brother." His voice cracked at the end. 

 He gave her a sad smile. "Goodnight." He kissed her delicately on her forehead and left, closing the door gently behind him as he did.

It was astounding how something that had once brought her great joy mere hours before now only gave her deep resentment. Morgan was playing in her room, glancing out the window every so often at the snow that was piling up on the ground and taunting her. For the first time in her life she just wished it would stop snowing. Sure she loved the snow, but she loved Peter even more. 

She tried to keep on amusing herself with the array of blocks, stuffed animals, and dolls that lay before her, but the truth of the matter was that her heart just wasn't in it. So she left. If she wasn't happy in her room then perhaps she could find something else to distract her.

She walked through the house. Feet guiding her aimlessly through the paths she had trekked through numerous times before. Sometimes walking. Sometimes running. Sometimes dancing. Now she only shuffled, heavy bricks of sorrow weighing her down. 

All of the plans of having fun with Peter were disappearing, floating away on the wind. Yesterday she had daydreamed about the presents that lay heaped beneath the Christmas tree. Now she only thought about how much fun she would be having if only her brother were here.  They could be doing so much together. They could be coloring or playing or conducting their own science experiments. The possibilities were endless.

Morgan stopped walking, having noticed she stood face to face with the guest room. Well, it used to be the guest room, but then when Peter started staying at the house more it quickly became his own room. What used to be a relatively bare room compared to the rest of the house was now filled with evidence that it now belonged to a teenage boy. Posters adorned the walls and pictures sat on the dresser, the people in the frames smiling back out at her. Legos from his last visit still lay scattered haphazardly on the floor and Morgan gave a small laugh at that, wondering what Daddy would say if he knew about that. 

But her amusement didn't last long. The empty room only served to reminder of who wasn't there, and if anything she felt even worse than before. So, her head hanging heavy, she turned around and walked back the way she came.

 The first time Morgan met her previously dead brother was in the hospital waiting room, waiting for her Daddy to get better. Mommy was talking to a lady with long brown hair a few seats away. Morgan didn't know who she was, but with the way that she kept looking at her brother Morgan assumed that she must be his mommy.

 "Hi!" Morgan said, swinging her feet back and forth in her chair. "You're my brother."

 Um, Hi?" The boy said, clearly confused. "I'm Peter. Who are you?" 

 "Morgan Stark." Morgan replied, to which Peter's eyes went wide in disbelief. "Mommy said that you might be surprised to see me, but that's okay. I'm gonna be your friend."  She got up out of her seat and using the entire strength that her five-year-old body could muster she managed to pull him up and out of his chair. "Come play with me!" She demanded, leading him over to a bag full of toys that she had brought with her. 

 She pulled out a miniature robot Daddy had made her for her fourth birthday. "This is Budd-e!"  She waved the device's mechanical arm at him.  

 "Hey." Peter told the robot which gave a small beep in reply. "That looks like Dum-e."  He turned his attention back to Morgan.

 "Yep! Daddy modeled her after him!" Morgan said. 

 "Wow. That's - that's something."  He picks up a random item from the bag. "So what do you want to play?" 

 They played for hours on end, and later when Morgan is exhausted from the day and leaning her head against Mommy's shoulder as she quietly dozes off to sleep, she hears Peter ask, "Why does Morgan think I'm her brother?" 

 To which Mommy can only reply, "Because you are." 

"Can't you just call and ask them if they'll be here?" Morgan asked her Mommy as she lay halfway off the couch.

"Daddy called May a few hours ago and she still didn't think they'd make it. And sit up, you could hurt herself."

"I won't hurt myself." Morgan muttered to herself, but still she pulled herself back into a seating position. 

"Uncle Rhodey should be here soon." Mommy said. 

"Oh. That's nice." Morgan replied, and it truly was. Then a thought occurred to her. "What about Uncle Happy?"

Mommy paused. "He was supposed to be coming with May and Peter." 

That's right, Morgan thought, Uncle Happy had moved in with Aunt May and Peter a few weeks ago after they'd been dating for a few months. Great. Now she had to miss someone else this Christmas. Tears began to fall unwarranted down her face. "It's not fair!" She cried, rubbing her eyes. "It's not fair!"

Mommy pulled her up into her arms and Morgan buried her face into her neck as she sobbed uncontrollably. "I know, honey, I know." 

 "But I don't want you to go!" Morgan complained to Peter as she watched him pack up his belongings.

 Peter sighed. "I know you don't, Morgan, but I have school tomorrow. Besides, you know that I'll be back next weekend."

 Morgan frowned. "But I'll miss you." 

 "I know, but listen. As soon as I get home I'm gonna call you and talk to you until you get sick of me and are begging me to hang up."

 "I could never get sick of you." Morgan said, offended that he could even think that.

 "And I could never be sick of you." Peter told her. 

 "I Love you, Morgan." Peter hugged her.

 "Love you, Peter." Morgan replied as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, wishing he'd never leave.

Morgan must have cried herself to sleep, because the next thing she knew Mommy was gone and she was lying down alone on the couch. She yawned as she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She didn't know how long she had been asleep, but it must have been a while because she heard Uncle Rhodey talking to Daddy and Mommy and the sky outside was almost pitch black. It must be almost time for dinner, she thought as she stood up. 

She was just getting ready to say hi to Uncle Rhodey when she heard it. The sound of tires slowly crunching up the driveway. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but still she looked out into the darkness. Aunt May's car was slowly ambling up towards the cabin. She could hardly believe it. She closed her eyes and shook her head, just in case she was imagining it, but when she opened her eyes once more nothing had changed. A smile began to spread across her cheeks. " They're here! They're here!" Morgan shouted with glee, and before either Mommy or Daddy or Uncle Rhodey could stop her she had flung the front door open and ran out into the night.

The alliance of the houses Targaryen and Tudor.

The cold war came effectively to an end. The winter was defeated at least. It brought Westeros the sensation of relief for being released of a heavy burden that was so long ignored, tossed it to old songs. It came with a great cust, though, and even Daenerys Targaryen had her own losses to deal with. Amongst them were her lover, Jon Snow (or should he be now conveniently reminded as Aegon Targaryen, the lost son of her brother to a Northern lady?), and the best of her men, her knight and wise counsellor, Ser Jorah Mormont. Worse of all, perhaps, was the death of a son of hers. Viseryon's life was shortened by the cold spear of the undead night king that crossed his heart. A scene she’d never forget.

Victory custed too much for the silver haired self entitled queen of Westeros. But she survived. She also escaped machinations articulated between Bran Stark and his sister, Lady Sansa, but she would deal with them later. A more important war was to come. She fled back to Dragonstone then, where she reunited with the remaining forces the dreadful war could not destroy.

She had to look composed as a queen as herself should be. The time to defeat a usurper as Cersei Lannister was to come and she had no time to grief. On that particular morning she left bed earlier than the rising sun and with her hair slightly loose, dressed herself accordingly the colours of her House: black and red. Missandei soon woke and joined her mistress and friend in the privy chambers made of stones where the fireplace was still alight.

In silence, both women greeted with small smiles and an exchange of friendly glances before Missandei began to brush the silvery locks of Daenerys. Once all was set, they went to have their morning meal at what Dany named “throne room”, once occupied by her ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror.

There, she surrounded herself with Grey Worm, Missandei, the Spider, Tyrion Lannister and Barristan Selmy. Once the first rays of light broke through the open windows of the room, Dany, who chiefed her small council, began the meeting:

“Greetings to all”, she began, nodding her head out of respect for each of there present. “I know many of you wished to remain in your warm beds, but the urgence of matters prevent us for sleeping any further”.

She awaited as the warm liquid served by her servants was well swallowen in the respective throats of her trusted men-and woman-, so the honey mead would wake them up.

“I have reports that the queen has been guarding the capital well”, announced Varys, or the Spider as he was popular known. “Your Grace, she took children and women under her embrace. If I may speak so, I’d advise you not to attack directly the Red Keep.”

Daenerys said nothing, but a nod of her head indicated she listened. Tyrion followed:

“Well, discipline and order are what Grey Worm and his men know best”, and here he exchanged looks with the Unsullied man. “But if I could give you any advice concerning invasion is this: spare the civilians and the town will be yours.”

“But the Lannister army is big”, Dany pointed it out. “She also took the men who served the House Tyrell and those who also served the Tyrell’s by extent. What can we do about these men, Lord Tyrion?”

“We should bring the war to them”, he affirmed, “but out of the Capital.”

“How should we trust they would leave unguarded King’s Landing?” Dany pushed.

The sun hasn’t reached the high skies and tension was in the air. No one there present had the answer to her questions, questions that were most properly asked and showed how clever was Daenerys Targaryen. But brain was not enough to beat a war, and strategies were urged to be thought. To the queen’s displeasure, Cersei Lannister held advantage there.

Grey Worm spoke at last, breaking the awkward silence that had instaured between the group, aware how the abscence of Ser Jorah was an important player sadly missing by sadder circumnstances which took his life away.

“We have enough men to break through the defenses of the Capital”, said he, “and of course there is not a single intention of our part to involve innocents in this bloody shit. Yet, war is war and we must be prepared for losses. What I was thinking was this: a man of my trust leads the front invasion whilst I, with the other half of the men left under my charge, attempt to drive the main forces of the Lannisters out of the capital.”

“It is a good plan”, Dany admitted it, “but I still see flaws on it. Unfortunately we are outnumbered and...”

A knock on the door interrupted the already tiring discussions, surprising those present and even the queen was intrigued at who might be. She told Grey Worm to open the door and, as he did so, they are all caught off guard by the presence of one Unsullied and a man dressed in different robes that Dany never saw before.

“Yes?” she inquired curiously.

“Good day my lady, my lords.” The said man approached once permission was granted. He seemed afflicted and Dany wondered why. He was of blonde hair, an oval face clean of beard--which indicated a young age, she assumed- with light blue eyes and a red-ish mouth. His robes seemed simple, but Dany took no long to perceive he was but a messenger. Question was: who sent this young lad?

“The name is Edward Wydeville”, he so presented himself. “I was sent all this way by Henry Tudor, earl of Richmond.”

Dany was very, very intrigued by this.

“Never heard of such a man, Ser Edward.” She said before giving the said Edward a smile. “Allow me to present myself, then. I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons”

Ser Edward Wydeville bowed respectfully and somehow that handsome man did not appear to be on Cersei’s side, but Dany knew by now she could not rely on appearances and that she should be careful. 

“It is a delight to be at your presence, Your Grace”, said the Wydeville man. “My lord the earl of Richmond is a king-to-be also and he is in need of allies to take what was wrongfully stolen from his: the throne of England.”

“How convenient”, murmured Tyrion under his breath.

But Dany did not give the dwarf any attention. 

“England? Never heard of such a realm.”

Ser Edward explained it properly and suddenly all the eyes were on this pale-ish knight man who somehow reminded Dany of her beloved friend Jorah Mormont.

“I see”, she said after a while. “But I have a war on my own to wage, Ser Edward. I am not sure...”

Much for her surprise, however, Varys interrupted her by saying:

“How many men are serving this Tudor lad, my lord?”

“King Henry, my lord”, ser Edward corrected Varys, which amused Dany. “He has an army of 2,000 men but it’s not enough.”

And suddenly Dany could see where this was all going to. All of a sudden, there was hope.

“Is His Grace”, she thought wise to address  properly a man whose claim to his own throne in this said realm of England much echoed hers to Westeros, “here? Is he aware that you came to seek for my aid? But, mostly important: why did he look for my help and not Queen Cersei?”

But Ser Edward Wydeville did not back upon the dragon queen’s response. He looked into Daenerys’ eyes and said:

“Because my lord the king knows an usurper when he sees one, and Your Grace is the rightful queen of Westerosi’s throne.”

There was more than this, Dany supposed, but still she decided to meet this King Henry Tudor in person.

“Well, I suppose he landed here. Bring him personally, Ser Edward. Tell His Grace that Queen Daenerys wishes to see him.”

Ser Edward flashed the silvery queen a relieved smile and bowed. “Of course, Your Grace.”

So he departed. Once he did all eyes were on hers, but apparently Varys comprehended truly what was forming in the dragon queen’s mind. Tyrion, however, looked unpleased, which did not escape Dany’s eyes. But it was time to achieve victory and she would do all she could to conquer what was wrongfully taken from her family.

*                                                                *                                                  *

The earl of Richmond was now styled Henry Tudor, King of England, Prince of Wales and Duke of Lancaster even if living abroad all those years meant not he held such titles as he did in paper. Time to replace the Yorkist usurper, the malign king Richard III, was coming, but despite the coyness of the king of France, he had to look for other allies for aid in his conquest.

His uncle Jasper Tudor told him there was a realm not too far from the British isles, but a little further from France, where there was a queen who shared his fate. At first, Henry understood nothing of why he should search for the aid of someone who, like himself, was struggling to take his throne. But the earl of Pembroke innocently suggested:

“She has two living dragons, creatures once thought to be mythical. I do not doubt she would easily smash her rivals in her own war”, he said, “but her dynasty must go on and she’ll marry to fill her duty. She is in the same position as yourself, nephew.”

“I thought I’d marry the Yorkist princess”, Henry reminded him.

But Jasper shrugged his shoulders.

“A woman with dragons seems to me far more powerful and important than a daughter of an usurper. Peace will bond two realms, I’m sure.”

“She will require something of me”, he sighed, “before anything is dealt.”

“A risk we should take”, Jasper suggested. “Politics is always dealing with both sides, nephew. You cannot expect to arrange a deal that benefits you only, even though such political treatments are often made for this purpose. As a king, you must look well for the realm you are to rule.”

Henry could see where he was going to, but he was still unsure about it. 

“We have our own wars to fight”, he told his uncle. “Why fighting for others’?”

But the argument was interrupted upon the arrival of Ser Edward Wydeville, who seemed optimist. 

“She has a good deal of men to help our cause”, he told them, to the delight of the earl of Pembroke, “but maybe she expects our help in turn”.

“This was expected”, said Jasper, pleased by what he heard. “Go on, Henry. We must do whatever it takes to reach that throne of yours.”

So the game of thrones finally began, the man thought.

*                                                            *                                                         *

Daenerys was waiting for the visitor in the chambers where it was said Aegon was spending his time when idea of conquering Westeros flashed before his eyes like a vision. It was, therefore, most significant that she agreed to wait for him there.

Dressed in red, she asked Missandei to braid her silver hair as beautifully as possible. She expected to impress this Tudor king, after all, they had so much in common.

“Fret not, Your Grace”, said Missandei, “he’ll be of your liking and you will be of his.”

She giggled and the sound relaxed Dany a little. She had had little time to laugh or to be remembered she was a woman, after all, with sentiments and needs. Ever since Jon betrayed her and even upon his death, she felt weirdly abandoned, pushed to her own luck. She lost the North’s support, but she’d win them and all those who refused to bend their knee. All she could think was...

“Your Grace, Henry Tudor, King of England, Prince of Wales and Duke of Lancaster is here”, Missandei announced, bringing Daenerys back to reality.

Henry entered like he was a king already crowned, even though insecurity betrayed his eyes. However, despite the confidence displayed, Daenerys saw more of it. She caught herself surprised by finding him handsome: tall, elegant, charming. Henry possessed all in his presence: his shortened light brown hair, his light brown eyes, his long nose, his lips... It was almost inevitably that her eyes fell upon the well built muscles underneath his rich robes, but a blush on her cheeks upon noticing it quickly made her eyes look away.

Henry too was surprised to be at the presence of a beautiful woman as Daenerys. She was by far the handsomest lady he’d ever put his eyes on. Her hair was of a silver colour he’d never seen it in any of her sex, her lilac eyes all the same: never ever he thought possible to dive in eyes like hers. Her complexions made her fair, her body suited well in the red gown... To his pride, he was remembered of the House of Lancaster. Perhaps not all was too lost. And they smiled to each other because they knew it.

“Your Grace”, she moved towards him and thought wise to greet him with a gracious curtsy. “Welcome to Dragonstone”.

Henry smiled and bowed appropriatedly.

“Your Grace” he replied. “Thank you for receiving me.”

“I trust the journey was well?”

“To be fair, I have been accostumed to long journeys” said Henry “as I was particularly raised abroad.”

“Oh?”

Henry smiled at her confusion.

“I was born in England, a realm not too far from Westeros, my lady. But there happened to be in a civil war where my uncle, who was the king of English subjects, was usurped. This war shattered my kingdom between two powerful houses, one of the York, responsible for those bloody tragedies, and the other of the Lancaster, my own, dethroned. For some reason, I represented danger to those Yorkists and was promptly raised on exile. I’m eight-and-twenty and have not been at home ever since I was four-and-ten.”

Daenerys frowned upon hearing this.

“I’m sorry to hear it”, she paused to ask Missandei to fetch them some wine as she leaded her guest to a seat to take next to hers. “I too knew nothing but exile, except most of my lifetime. Our stories are very similar, Your Grace. My father was the king of the Seven Kingdoms, a title that has been held for generations ever since Aegon, my several times grandfather, conquered and unite these kingdoms. But then... my brother fell out of his marriage to a Dornish girl, he loved a northern lady of name Lyanna and the two of them ran off. Her betrothed, Robert of the House Baratheon, caused a bloody civil war, sending most of us to death. My mother gave me birth right on this castle, in Dragonstone, but did not make it. I and my other brother had to survive depending on others out there.”

Henry looked shocked upon hearing this. Presuming Daenerys’ older brother died, she really had no one at her side. His uncle had a point where marriage alliances were concerned, and to be king of two kingdoms! But Henry was far more concerned in taking his own back. Nonetheless, he said:

“Our stories link too closely for my taste.”

Dany chuckled. She liked him.

“True, they do. But tell me your intentions, Your Grace. I don’t think you came all over to ask aid from an uncrowned queen. Your messager told me you acknowledge Cersei Lannister as an usurper, but even so... uncertaintities are pending to my side.”

Henry did not lie when he said:

“We need each other, Your Grace. Destiny is not something to be played upon.”

*                                                         *                                                            *

Henry Tudor was shocked. Perplexed, petrified even. He never thought mythological creatures were living beings. Daenerys laughed at his face. Drogon and Rhaegal looked unimpressed, though.

“They are real!” even uncle Jasper was surprised.

Dany was proudly told how the dragons were the symbol of a small kingdom named Wales. She loved that as she thought her children, as she told both Henry and Jasper Tudor, disappeared before she found them again. 

“They were once mythical in Westeros too”, she told them. “There was a civil war amongst my ancestors which we call ‘dance of dragons’. Back then, a woman could not rule on her right, so her claim was usurped by her half-brother. Eventually, this resulted in the killing of the poor creatures. Each generation they grew weaker until they were no more.”

“It’s an impressive story”, Henry said. “It reminds some of our kingdom’s history as well”, and he told her the story of Empress Matilda, lady of the English.

Daenerys sighed. 

“It saddens me that a woman cannot be taken seriously without a man at her side. These are treacherous creatures.” She laughed, but the sound of her laughter appeared sad to Henry’s eyes.

For some reason, he found himself offended by it.

“Not all of them are. I know most of them can be so, though. Ambition corrupts their souls before we know.” He grinned at it. “But some of us remain faithful to our beliefs.”

At that, Dany could not help a smirk.

“Aye, glad to hear you are not like most of them, Henry Tudor.”

And Jasper suddenly found himself excluded from the talk of the King and Queen, but this somehow brought a sincere smile to his lips. Not all was lost to the Lancastrian house, he thought.

*                                                               *                                                         *

Despite the evident danger, every early morning Henry Tudor stood carefully from a safe distance where the dragons of the House Targaryen were sleeping. He observed the different colours of their scales, and wondered what would be like to ride them. 

Daenerys told him the feeling, but he found himself eager to mount on one and, like a child, see the world. It was when Rhaegal opened an eye and stared at him. Henry froze, but somehow man and creature knew one would not harm the other. A chilly breeze came from the east and messed a little with Tudor’s hair. He knew he was wasting time there in Dragonstone, but as far as he knew... things could be worse. 

“Rhaegal likes you, I think.” Daenerys pointed it out, appearing before Henry knew. “How long have you been here, Henry?”

So they were calling each other’s name now, Henry smiled.

“Not very sure.” He admitted. “I could not sleep so I came over here.”

Dany smiled. 

“You are a dragon too, in your own way.”

“A welshman always is, I suppose.” He chuckled. “Hence the dragons on my flag.”

Her smile spreaded upon her lips and Henry decided he liked the view. He suspected the queen did not smile often, and as the days went by, turning to weeks, he learned why. Henry too had his own losses, but nothing dreadfully compared to hers. The self entitled king of England understood her better.

“Do you miss your home?” She asked. She needed to know.

“I do”, Henry was sincere. “And my lady mother the most. I’ve never my father, though my uncle, his brother, whom you’ve met, acts like one to me. Without them, I’d be nothing.”

“Sometimes I wonder what is like to have a family”, she admitted softly. “But we should discuss this later”, Dany composed before he could see right through her. “I came over to talk to you about something, Your Grace.”

It did not go unnoticed to Henry Tudor how much he preferred when he was addressed by his birth name rather than formal titles.

“I cannot long no more.” She was talking about war. “I need your support, that is why I have treated you as my guest, and entertained you as well as I could.”

It was true, though: despite her “poverty” in due respect to her position as queen-to-be, Dany was in no position to offer something lavishingly, but Henry and his comitive understood that too well. Regardless, somehow there was music, food and dancing. Uncle Jasper and his friends were pleased and it would not surprise Henry if he was told that Dragonstone was a fresh view after all those years in Brittany and France.

Nonetheless, all fun left aside, it was time to come to an agreement, which Henry hoped to be fair for both of them -since he was either in position to negotiate, anyway. She was his last hope.

“I will help your cause, Your Grace”, he said, “with one condition.”

Daenerys was not a fool to comprehend that alliances were forged following agreements that brought benefits for both sides. However, Henry Tudor carried enough men to help her cause and she’d do anything that her dignity agreed to it. Cersei needed to fall.

“Yes” she instigated him.

“I need your aid to help mine as well.”

It could be worse, Dany thought, but why did she feel disappointed? Was she expecting something different?

“Of course.” She agreed, somewhat tense, though. “I suspect within this mutual alliance there are other terms also? Whether in economic and political sense?”

Henry smiled, he appreciated her wit.

“Aye, Your Grace. We expect to favour Westeros over others in commerce terms and if one day Westeros is in need of aid, England will help you.”

“As otherwise”, she assumed, happy to know it. “Then we are now allies, Henry Tudor, King of England.”

“Aye, we are, Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of Westeros.”

It was now time to part.

*                                                           *                                                        *

Jasper Tudor was a blessing and a good replacement, if such can be said, to the position left behind by Ser Jorah Mormont. His military experience was welcome to all those present in Daenerys Targaryen’s privy councill, especially by the queen herself.

It was thanks to him, alongside Grey Worm, that the queen’s army was able to be more organized. Soon, with proper training and planning, they were ready to set to the Capital.

“Are you good with swords, Your Grace?” The day before the final battle, she was found chatting with him, drinking some wine.

“I had my training”, Henry said, excusing himself from the lack of experience in battlefield. He blushed and it did not go unnoticed by Daenerys, who smiled. “I will do well.”

“I’m sure you do.”

There was silence between them, but one of the comfortable kind. As she served them two glasses of wine, Henry was caught curious about knowing her properly. So he inquired:

“Have you been married before, Your Grace?”

Daenerys looked at him surprised and thought seeing preoccupation in Tudor’s eyes for offending her. But she should know by now this question would eventually be asked.

“I have.” And she told him about Khal Drogo, and how her own brother Viserys sold her to a tribe of what she thought being barbarians, but eventually she brought them as their own kin. Even so, she never again remarried.... despite being close to Jon Snow. A lament sigh escaped her.

“I’m sorry about that.” Henry said, and he truly was. He too was eager to have a family himself, but considering his background... he was fearful of doing so, and his mind was ever in survival and his whereabouts when running constantly from his enemies before going to action. At long last.

“Don’t be. It made me who I am”, she assured him and her confidence surprised him. “I have faith in myself, Henry Tudor. So you should be, you are a survival too.”

They locked long gazes, but no one did a move. Finally, Dany stood and said:

“I’m off to sleep. The day will be long tomorrow. Have a good night, Henry Tudor.”

He found himself smiling.

“And you as well, Daenerys Targaryen.”

*                                                           *                                                        *

Despite Jasper’s efforts in placing his nephew to mount Rhaegal, Henry promptly refused. He needed to have experience on battlefield, and riding a dragon would not help him. Dany admired his courage, which reminded her for a moment of Jon Snow.

But they could never be alike, she thought. He was honest, good hearted and not likely to be manipulated by others, even if he loved his uncle dearly. Henry had his own views, stood for them, and was humble enough to look for other’s counsels. Besides, he was far handsomest than the Snow bastard, Daenerys thought mischievously.

There were no more thoughts about Tudor as the time came. The plan was to divide and conquer, simple as it might be, but more efficient. Dany had her and the Tudor men to make her cause successful. Not to mention, her dragons. Her children. But she would have to be careful, as Tyrion told her there were men with garnment appropriated to perfurate a dragon’s flesh.

That way, she followed Henry’s advise and made sure it was builted an appropriated armour to Drogon and Rhaegal. It delayed them fro two weeks, but it was enough to rest ease the Lannisters and reassure the Targaryen’s party confidence.

The day had come. It was before the dawn, before the sunlights began to colour the nightful sky that Daenerys Targaryen’s army reached the land. She flew above the clouds, always watchful in her steps and in her sons’. She could hear the screams from above and expected no children, no woman, no innocent would be harmed. 

She flew higher and smiled upon seeing Rhaegal and Drogon side by side. Such sight renewed the faith upon herself. Daenerys would bring back the Targaryens to the throne. 

The sun was rising. It was time, she thought. She turned far from the sea, flying to where the true battlefield was expected to event the bloodiest, and hopefully final, battle for her throne.

*                                                                   *                                                    *

Henry detested to admit to himself, but the mess of a battlefield could cause was horrible. Yet, it brought any man a terrific sensation of power. He was not as great swordsman as his uncle was, but he could managed a sword. Defeating this Lannister army renewed his purpose and hopes of earning his own throne back from the usurpers.

He saw the blood thirsty in his uncle’s eyes beneath the helmet and smiled upon himself. However loud it was, the sounds of sword against sword did not prevent any communications to his army. Despite the predictability of “dividing and conquering”, the Capital fell to the Targaryen’s side.

Henry participated in the release of the innocents and was side by side to Grey Worm as they ran indoors to take the Red Keep. The usurper queen, much to Tudor’s surprise, was present with an iron-made face, not so ready to give up her throne, her power.

“I see the mad woman sent her men to take me from here.” She said, her voice but in a whisper echoing nonetheless in all the iron throne. Her Greyjoy’s allies were defeated and the left of the Tyrell’s army defected to her enemy’s side. But a lioness would not give in. “She’s very much stupid.”

“If you have any dignity, it is better for you to leave where you are now, woman!” Henry found himself saying it patiently, surprised to himself he was forced to deal with... another woman on the throne. To his defense, he’d never seen this before.

Cersei laughed. But there was sadness in her eyes, for as she heard the battle cries outdoors, she was each time certain of the defeat and a shiver running over her spine only confirmed the shadow of death surrounded her.

“She used you, whomever you might be. To her own purposes. That woman you came to defend was as mad as her father. Why do you think dynasties fall and others come to rise? Because no one stand the old! No one bows for madness, no one takes idiocracies anymore!”

“Is usurpation a clean path for you?” Henry asked. “You know nothing, Cersei Lannister.”

And before he could say any longer, there came Daenerys Targaryen on Drogon. It was a mesmerizing but powerful image, Henry admired.

“Leave.” She told her men. “This is between me and her. She’s already defeated.”

The Unsullies made sure to guard the town whilst the Tudor men certified that the Red Keep was safe.

“You have two options”, declared Daenerys, mounted on Drogon. “You either surrender and I’ll forgive you, but have you to be locked with the Silent Sisters, or you will face punishment for treason.”

Again, Cersei laughed, but it was an empty laughter.

“I committed no treason.”

She held onto the iron throne. Daenerys stared at her proeminent enemy, the last liason to the fall of her ancestors. She sensed the presence of the ghosts of her family, each member she never knew. She knew they were there, ready to see their house restored to the glory stolen.

“Stand.” Her voice was filled with no emotion. Her eyes were hard, nearly narrowed.

Cersei held her breath.

“No.”

“Stand.” She rose her voice.

Two guards of Daenerys threatened to do it so, Cersei saw to it. She rose it, then. 

“Step forward.”

Cersei reluctantly did so, eyes filled with despise and fear. 

And then...

...then....

.....

Death came.

“Dracarys!”

*                                                               *                ��                                       *

As promised, Queen Daenerys promised to give Henry Tudor, King of England, the help he needed. She went as far as creating him Ward of the East, becoming Lord of the High Garden, a title that Jasper Tudor proudly saw fit (as their own emblem was a red rose).

“I am humbly thankful for your aid.” She thanked each man, bestowing Jasper the wardship of the Stormlands. “I shall never forget what you have done to restaure the glory of the House Targaryen to where it rightful belongs. The Queen will never forget her friends.”

And this was very much true for Henry and Jasper, most benefitted for such aid. Now, as rich men and owner of other lands along those they held rights to in their own homeland, they returned to England. But for Daenerys, it was difficult to say goodbye.

“May I have a word to Your Grace?” She inquired.

Henry agreed to it. They went to have a stroll around the gardens. She was nervous, and due to her last disappointments with men, it would not be surprised to see her reluctance. Somehow, the new Lord of High Garden understood it well.

So they paced in silence for long moments.

“I’ve grown fond of you, my lord.” Daenerys admitted it. “Not very sure the extent of it, though, but the moment I had my eyes on you... I knew you were different. Perhaps I’m a fool, think it as you will. But you gave me hopes, you were loyal and...”

Henry stopped pacing and turned his face to admire her beauty. His hands were, before he knew, holding hers. He knew somewhere behind the back of his mind he was possibly betrothed to somebody else, but... this was a much better match. Because he found himself besotted.

“I’ll never forget you, Dany.”

And he kissed her lips upon saying so. They did not know what tomorrow might bring and Daenerys would not like to know either. They kissed and she was glad for it. 

“Be careful there.”

Henry smiled. “I will. And you too.”

She smirked. “I still have a rebellion to deal with.”

“Perhaps I might come to your aid again”.

Dany flushed.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

They leaned into each other and embraced. She had her throne at what cust? Oh but she’d dearly missed him.

*                                                               *                                                       *

October, 1485. 

Henry Tudor was finally crowned King Henry of England, the Seventh of his name of the House Tudor, Prince of Wales, Duke of Lancaster, etc. It would be a difficult reign to rule upon, but Heny was ready. He was finally ready to it.

Alliances here, alliances there, he did not forget the one he’d like to wed. A letter had been sent, again in the person of Edward Wydeville. As Henry’s betrothed, Elizabeth of York, had died and the next heir was sent off to be married in Portugal, he was less than inclined to espouse the youngest daughters of the queen Dowager. So the powerful Daenerys was his choice.

The marriage happened in January of the next year and it was accorded they would spend six months in one realm and six months in another, to the delight of both parties. Daenerys with the aid of Henry VII of England defeated the Northern rebellion, having Brandon of the House Stark hanged for treason and Lady Sansa Stark marriaged off to Jasper Tudor. Curiously, this would become a happy marriage for them both.

It was all settled then with Queen Daenerys and King Henry. The rebellions in England were easily displaced not only through the aid of Dany’s dragons but the efficacy of the counsel of Tyrion Lannister and the archbishop Morton who were very fond of each other...after all, similar minds think alike.

To Daenerys’ surprise, she’d bear a good offspring in due time: towards the end of 1486, Rhaegar was born. He was followed by Henry in 1487. Margaret, the first princess, was born in 1490. She was also followed by Rhaella in 1492. Another boy, Edmund, came in the spring of 1494. Jaehaerys was born in the winter of 1496 and a pair of twins named Katherine and Aegon were born in 1498.

Upon the death of Daenerys in 1515, Rhaegar, as it was decided upon his birth, inherited the Westerosi throne and upon Henry VII’s death in the year after, Henry, the prince of Wales, became King Henry VIII. Margaret was married to the king of Scots, whilst Rhaella was married to the future emperor Charles V. Edmund would take his cousin, a daughter of Lady Sansa and Ser Jasper, as his wife, one day becoming the Lord of the Stormlands. Jaeharys sadly died in infancy. Katherine was sent to church and Aegon too did not live passed 10. 

That way, the Targaryen-Tudor family lived for many years, entwining the realms of England and Westeros in long propserity.

Hiding. Part 30a (NSFW)

Cowritten with @disastrousintention. Trigger warnings for discussion of abuse and neglect.

-x-

Three weeks after Charlie’s fiftieth and his heart attack, it was Duffy’s birthday. Charlie had booked them a meal in a restaurant with all the children. Then he had a surprise for her when all the children were in bed.

Duffy was hoping for as little fuss as possible. Though she loved Christmas she wasn't a fan of birthdays, well, not her own at least.

It was going to be low-key, at least that was Charlie’s idea. He knew how much she hated celebrating her own birthday. On the morning of her birthday, before the tribe woke up, Charlie left a silver gift bag containing three small boxes on her bedside table near the lamp.

The sound of something rustling roused her from her slumber. She opened her eyes slowly and stretched her arms above her head.

Charlie got back into bed quickly and pretended he hadn’t just placed a bag on the beside table.

She was about to go back to sleep when something sparkly caught her eye. She sat up slightly, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

He rolled onto his side, “Happy birthday sweetheart.”

She smiled sweetly and took hold of the bag, a questioning look on her face.

“There’s just a couple of things from me and the children.” He explained.

"You didn't have to do that!" She remarked as she opened the bag and took out the first box.

The first box was slightly bigger than the other two. It was a necklace, silver with her birthstone on it.

"Oh it's beautiful!" She gasped.

“I’m glad you like it.” He smiled. “Peter and Jake helped me chose it.”

"You let the boys loose in a jeweller's?" She laughed.

“Yeah.” He laughed gently.

"Brave man!" She giggled as she took the second box out of the bag and shook it gently.

Inside the second box was a bracelet, that was silver too.

"I'm sensing a theme..!" She noted with amusement. She picked up the third box. "Earrings by any chance?"

He laughed and then shrugged, “No idea what you’re talking about.”

She opened the box and revealed that it did indeed contain earrings that matched the necklace and bracelet.

He smiled softly, “There may be another present too.”

Confusion filled her face as she looked once more into the bag and confirmed it was empty.

He opened the bedside drawer and removed an envelope. He handed it to her. Two tickets for a spa day.

"Do I get to chose who goes with me?" She laughed.

“Of course. I’ll stay and look after the children.”

"But you'd look so fetching in a face mask and cucumbers on your eyes..!"

“Do you think?” He laughed gently.

"Oh absolutely!" She giggled.

He lent over and kissed her tenderly.

"Dare I ask what you have planned for today or is it a 'surprise'?"

“It’s a surprise.” He smiled brightly.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course it is."

“Or... I’ll let the boys tell you.”

"They're in on the plot too?"

He smiled, “Maybe.”

"You're plotting I can tell!" She pouted.

He kissed her lips. “You’re so gorgeous.”

“But I don’t know what you mean. I’m not plotting anything.”

"You're a terrible liar Charlie Fairhead!"

“Am I really?” He pouted. “Or is it because you can read me so well?”

"Maybe a bit of both." She smiled. "What do you say we sneak downstairs and have breakfast together before the kids wake up?"

“Sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Duffy grabbed her dressing gown from the floor and slipped it around her shoulders. Climbing out of bed she slowly, carefully, opened the bedroom door, hoping to avoid it squeaking.

It didn’t squeak. Charlie did the same, throwing on his boxers and then his dressing gown. It was definitely chilly this morning!

As they reached the bottom of the stairs Duffy was unable to contain her giggles any longer.

“Ssh.” He kissed her neck.

"I feel like a teenager sneaking out the house!" She giggled.

He laughed gently, “Did you do it often?”

"Maybe..." She replied, attempting to look innocent.

“No maybe about it.” He smirked.

"I didn't have any brothers or sisters so had to find my fun elsewhere." She shrugged.

“That’s true.” He gently sucked on her neck.

"There was a period where there wasn't a pub or club in Holby that I hadn't been asked to leave coz I was underage. I wonder if we were ever in the same place at the same time..?" She pondered with a smile.

“Once...” He replied in a whisper.

"Really?" She couldn't keep the genuine surprise from her voice.

He nodded, “Unless you weren’t the gorgeous redhead I saw.”

"What was I doing at the time?"

“Ordering a drink at the bar. Wearing a green dress. It went well with your hair.” He thought, “It was the bar, just off Prince Street. Again, it may not have been you..”

"The White Lion?"

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

"That was the only bar that would serve me because my boyfriend at the time was best friends with the landlord's son."

“So it was you!"

"More than likely. I dread to think what year that was." She laughed.

“I... was going to come and talk to you.” He smiled. “But I got all shy because you were gorgeous.” He stroked her cheek. “Still are gorgeous.”

"Probably best you didn't... I was only 15 at the time..." She admitted.

“Imagine the trouble I would’ve got in.” He smiled sadly. “Got a bite of the strawberry later in life though.”

"The fruit tastes better once its fully ripened." She teased as she headed towards the kitchen.

“That it certainly does.” He slapped her bum playfully as they entered the kitchen.

"Charlie!" She giggled. "Its funny how our lives have crossed over the years."

“Yeah it is.” He slapped her bum again.

"Sliding doors til the time was right." She sighed. "Well... Sort of..."

“We’re together now, that’s all that matters.” He reassured, “Although I wish I’d have said something sooner. Maybe then I could’ve stopped Andrew doing what he did to you.”

"What ifs and might have beens are dangerous territory to explore this early in the morning." She countered.

He sighed sadly, “I know. I’ll stop.” He smiled, “Breakfast?”

"Please." She smiled. "Do you want me to cook?" She added cheekily.

“Pancakes?” He asked. He shook his head, “I’ll cook breakfast and do you at the same time.” He grinned.

"Sounds perfect."

“Actually I don’t think I can multitask very well.”

She laughed as she watched him start to gather the required ingredients. "I believe in you sweetheart!" She giggled.

He laughed gently, “I’m glad you do.” He began to make pancakes for Duffy.

After a couple of minutes Duffy couldn't help the mischievous urge that was building inside her. Without making a noise she got up and crept across the kitchen and snuck up behind him, slipping her hands around his waist.

“Hello gorgeous.” He whispered, “You’re being mischievous.”

"Who me?" She asked as she slid her hands inside his dressing gown.

“Yes!” He grinned, he finished the pancakes and plated them up. “Yes, you!”

"Mmm..." She reached out a hand grab a piece, dropping it instantly. "Hot!"

“Of course. They’ve just been cooked. Do you fancy doing something to pass the time?”

"What did you have in mind?"

“Something that involves you and me, and getting sweaty?”

Grinning impishly she grabbed the can of cream from the counter and squirted a line of it down his chest where his dressing gown hung open.

He gasped. “That’s cold.”

"I'm sure I can warm you up." She giggled.

“With that giggle, you certainly can!”

Kneeling down she ran her tongue up his chest, licking cream as she went.

He groaned softly as she did.

"Mmm... You're right, it is cold." She giggled.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Casting a quick glance at the worktop she grabbed another container and squirted the contents at him.

“Do you mind!” He smiled as he ended up wrestling her, them both ending up wearing the contents of the container, on the kitchen floor, Charlie straddling her lap.

Running a finger up her cheek she gathered the chocolate sauce and placed her fingertip in her mouth, sucking it clean.

He bit his lip as he watched her. “You’re so hot!” He whispered and kissed her passionately.

Taking another dollop she flicked it at his face, hitting him square between the eyes.

“Duffy!” He shook his head fondly.

"What?" She asked innocently before sitting up to lick the sauce from his face.

“You’re so naughty!” He began to tickle her, knowing how much she hated been tickled

"Charlie!" She squealed as she tried to wriggle free.

He laughed and continued to tickle her.

She reached inside his dressing gown and slid her hand between them til her fingertips grazed the top of his boxers.

His breathing quickened and he stopped tickling her.

She took advantage of his brief pause to roll him over so she was now on top, a triumphant grin on her face.

“You used my weakness to your advantage.” He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Urgh, you're all sticky and now it's in my hair!" She pouted.

“Sorry baby. Something else will cover you that’s sticky.”

"Oh is that a promise?"

“Uh huh.”

She lent down towards him, rubbing herself against him as she did.

He moaned, “You feel so good.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, their kisses quickly heating up.

He trailed his hand up her thigh.

She reached down and pulled at her knickers, encouraging him to explore further.

He happily complied with her request. He explored her, his fingers caressing gently.

She let out a moan as she worked her hands inside his boxers, freeing his hardened cock from its constraints.

He let out a moan as he was finally free.

She ran her hand up and down him as their passions rose, their tongues dueling, bodies entwined. It had been far too long! She moaned into his mouth as she felt his cock slide inside her.

“Oh God.” He muttered.

Revelations and Ultimatums:

A Self Para Ft. Dominic Ford

As soon as Damien had received a text from his mother that morning it seemed like a dark cloud was hanging over him as he went through the rest of his day. A family meeting, or dinner as his mother called it, was the last thing he wanted, even on a good day, so the dread that settled into the pit of his stomach was no surprise. It was the fact that it kept growing more and more as the day went on that seemed a little out of the ordinary. Normally anxiety wasn’t a huge issue for him, and when it was, he would just smoke to quell all the feelings coursing through him, but his mother had warned him not to show up to dinner that night high or things would not go well for him. For some reason he felt it wouldn’t go well either way, but he remained sober as he trudged through his classes despite that. 

When he arrived at the Ford mansion that night with his brother in tow his dark cloud grew to twice its size, Damien feeling as if the rain was that much closer to pouring when the sight of his parents made his stomach clench. The two of them were in each other’s arms, his mother gazing up lovingly at his father, and the older twin rolled his eyes as she reached up and brushed a piece of his father’s hair to the side. He couldn’t believe the woman was keeping up the charade that she cared. The doting wife role was getting old to him and Damien was finding it harder and harder to hold his tongue around the two. Noticing her two boys, more specifically Damien’s narrowed eyes, Mrs. Ford smiled sadly before taking a step back from her husband to greet them. The woman moved to hug Dominic and then turned to her oldest only to have Damien side step her and move further into the foyer of the mansion to greet his father, his mother’s sad eyes following him the whole way and brother furrowing his eyebrows as confusion set deep into his chest. 

He knew Dominic had no clue about their mother’s affair, knew that his twin never understood how their mother’s actions had affected Damien’s life so much, and he knew that he was the one who refused to tell Dom but he still seemed to resent the boy for being ignorant to everything going on around them. It wasn’t his brother’s fault that Damien still felt a certain loyalty to the woman and that he also wanted to make sure his brother was protected from the damage he had sustained but Damien couldn’t help the rage that coursed through him at that moment when he noticed the confusion on Dominic’s face.  

He didn’t say much as the family made their way into the formal dining area, the table set up immaculately as servers moved around trying to fill water glasses at their seats before they sat. Damien was eyeing the kitchen door as a wonderful smell drifted through it but soon, he was sat in front of a fancy china plate with all the silverware he could ever ask for on each side. “Didn’t realize our company required such a pristine set up. What’s the occasion? Did someone die?” He saw his mother purse her lips, Dominic rolled his eyes just slightly, and his father sighed before taking a sip of the water that had just been filled as if he were trying to think of what to say. “Actually, Damien, it’s just been so long since we’ve had a family meal that we thought it would be nice to break out your mother’s favorite china. She’s missed you both so much, but school’s been keeping you so busy.” He had to suppress a laugh at the comment, the boy bringing his own water glass to his lips so he could resist the urge to say something sarcastic in response, but the thing that really saved him was Dominic speaking up in his kiss ass voice that grated Damien’s nerves. “Sophomore year’s been pretty intense. I wish we could be around more, but things have been pretty hectic with exams and paper deadlines approaching.” 

Dae had to admit, his brother was pretty good at covering for his ass sometimes. But he could tell by the way that his mother looked at him that his twin hadn’t convinced her much. Small talk continued with Damien adding in his quips and sarcastic comments, until dinner was placed in front of them. Suspicion started to rise when Damien realized it was his favorite meal sitting in front of him and he couldn’t help but ask the question that popped into his mind. “Why…exactly were we asked here tonight?” His mother looked up from her plate after taking a bite of her food, making sure to swallow before answering him so she could keep up her etiquette. “We just wanted to see you boys.” Damien wasn’t buying it though. In all the times he had come home he had never once been asked to not be high since they were certain he would show up like that anyway. That coupled with the strained smiles being sent his way and his favorite meal being served was enough to make him refuse to touch his meal as he narrowed his eyes at his parents. 

“Alright, what’s going on?” He hadn’t even lifted so much as a fork, something his mother took notice of, as the other three members of his family looked up from their plates. Dom, as always, had a mixture of annoyance and confusion on his face whereas his parents gave each other a look that clearly stated Damien was right in thinking that something was up. His father wiped his mouth with a napkin before abandoning his plate as well and turning to look at Damien. “Do you realize your school still sends all of your paperwork to our house? I guess you didn’t change the address when you and Dominic moved out to be closer.” Damien shrugged his shoulders, not entirely sure where this conversation was going and wanting to seem indifferent to it all. But his twin, he noticed, was now chewing a little more slowly as all of Dominic’s attention was now on their father who began to speak again. “We’ve been putting them aside for you since we didn’t want to read your mail but there were too many coming in that said urgent, so we decided to open a few. Did you know you were failing most of your classes?” 

Dominic stopped chewing his last bite immediately, his eyes traveling to Damien and his brows slightly raised. Their mother wasn’t looking at him but at her plate as she continued to eat but Dae could tell she wasn’t pleased. His father just kept staring at him, waiting for an answer. “I…was not aware.” This was a lie, of course. There was no way Dae had missed most of his classes and was still passing, but he wasn’t going to tell them that. But that was when Damien heard the clatter of his mother’s fork as she lost patience with him and started to speak herself, all niceties lost. “Cut the crap, Damien. We called the school, it’s mostly because your attendance is atrocious. What are we even paying for if you’re going to skip every class? You failed most of them last semester too and we stupidly agreed to continue throwing money at a college education that is not being appreciated.”

As she was speaking, Damien had finally started to eat his meal and he thoughtfully chewed on a bite of his food while he tried to think of how to answer this. The table was silent while all of them stared at him, so Damien finally swallowed, sighed, and set his fork down. “I guess I just don’t have a lot of motivation for school anymore. Strangest thing, really, considering how utterly devoted I was freshman year. Wonder what could have changed…” His eyes landed on his mother as the sarcasm came to an end, but it was his father who spoke next, a venom in his voice that Damien hadn’t heard in a long time. “Dammit, Damien, stop blaming your mother for everything that you’re doing wrong. You’re not the one she hurt last year, I am and I’m doing just fine.” 

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room, Damien’s head snapping in his father’s direction when the words clicked. So, he knew…he knew and neither of them had even bothered to talk to Damien about any of what he had seen. They had just decided to keep going on with the perfect family routine and let him feel like he was keeping secrets from everyone. Before he could say anything, his brother cleared his throat and set down his own fork. “What are we even talking about?” Damien continued to stare at his father, not even paying attention to the rest of his family as his mother cleared her throat uncomfortably. His father sighed and looked at Dominic to answer the question that Damien refused to speak about. “Your brother walked in on your mother with my business partner a little less than a year ago. Pretty sure that’s what changed his attitude and started…whatever it is he’s doing.”

Everyone grew silent. Damien’s appetite was completely gone at this point, so he just looked down at his plate as he moved food around on it. He didn’t want to look at his brother to face the thought process he knew was racing through the boy’s mind as he tried to catch up. He definitely didn’t want to look at his mother as he was sure the embarrassment of the whole situation was getting to her now. But he did have a question for his father, an important one at that. “How long have you known?” His voice was softer than he had intended it to be, all the harshness he had intended for his father’s other half being drained quickly to only be left with guilt and sympathy. His brother was quiet still, no doubt in Damien’s mind that he was probably staring at their mother in shock and not sure what he could say. Another sigh from his father broke the silence and Damien heard him answer just as quietly as he had asked. “A couple of months after you found out.”

Again, silence permeated the room and all the family could do was sit in the awkwardness. Anger at this whole situation started to flood Damien and soon words spilled from his mouth without thinking. “So…for more than six months you’ve both let me go on thinking that I was keeping some humongous secret from dad? Do you even realize how guilty I felt about this? How much I hated her for even asking me to keep it from you?” For the first time Damien looked at his mother and noticed that she at least had the grace to look ashamed. There were tears in her eyes while she gazed back at him, Dae noticing that his brother was staring at the table in front of him with that almost dazed look that he was sure mirrored Damien’s the day he had found out about the affair. How had this conversation turned from his grades to this so quickly? 

“Damien…” His father’s voice was still soft. He turned to look at the man, disbelief stilled etched all over his face. “The reason we wanted you both here tonight is because we thought it was time to discuss all of this, and maybe get you into therapy or something to help you try and process all of it.” The boy’s eyes narrowed at the man sitting next to him before he started to look back and forth at both of his parents while the older man continued talking. “We know this has effected every aspect of your life. I mean, you used to be such a good student, you and your brother got along famously, you had a perfectly respectable girlfriend and now…”

“I have a respectable girlfriend now, thank you very much.” Damien heard a scoff come from Dominic which caused the older twin to turn on him, finger pointing threateningly in his brother’s direction. “Screw you, Dominic. I love her and just because you can’t get along with her doesn’t mean you have to shit on her all the time. None of you even know her.” Dominic went to open his mouth to retaliate until their mother put her hand on top of his to stop him. She cleared her throat, clearly trying to make sure the emotions were out of her voice before she spoke up. “Damien, we’re not trying to gang up on you or Lila for that matter. I’m sure she’s lovely. We just don’t want to sit back and watch you throw your life away because of my mistakes. What I did was the worst thing I could have done to this family and I regret that more than you could know. But your father failed to mention that the two of us have been seeing a therapist as well and it’s helped us through this tremendously. We just want you to be okay and we’re suggesting that Dominic go too now that he’s…been privy to my transgressions.”

Shaking his hand, Damien pushed his chair back from the table and made to stand up before his father’s voice, this time with a little more authority, rang through his ears. “Damien, you get up from this table without discussing this and you’re not going to like what comes next.” His anger was telling him to just leave, just walk out the door because what was the worst they could do to him? But a voice in his mind told him to stay seated. His father never really used that tone with him unless he was utterly serious about what he was saying. So he stayed seated, his heated gaze moving from the older man to the two sitting across from him. Dominic was biting his bottom lip, no doubt to keep him from saying something idiotic with all the tension in the room, and his mother looked exasperated. He knew nothing was going as planned for them. 

“This is the deal, Damien. You’re going to start working hard at school again. Your grades are going to get better and you’re going to be attending every class. You’re also going to be attending therapy at least once a week on your own and we’re all going once a week as a family. You and your mother will be talking about what you witnessed even if Dominic and I have to leave for you to do it. We just want our son back to who he was before this whole incident…or at least someone we recognize. And the drugs stop now. That one is non-negotiable.”

Damien sat there staring at his father once again. He wasn’t being given a choice with any of this just like he had no choice but to keep everything a secret before and the boy didn't appreciate it. Biting the skin on the inside of his lip, he gave his father a defiant look. "And if I refuse?" Dominic sighed softly, letting out a breath the boy had been holding seemingly since the secret had been revealed to him only because of the frustration he felt towards his brother at the moment. Their father ran a hand through his hair before shrugging a shoulder. "That one's simple: you'll be cut off. No more money from us, no more fancy apartment or new cars, no more of us paying for your education. Everything will fall on your shoulders, Damien. So you decide what you want to do."

For the second time that night Damien felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs. He had never once had to live without his father's money and the boy knew he would be completely helpless if it came down to that. Dropping all of his animosity as he realized what his choices were, he slumped down in his chair with his mind racing. Give up his simple life of ease where he didn't have to lift a finger to get anything he wanted or give up his only coping mechanism. His father had him backed into a corner and the man knew it judging by the satisfied look on his face as he started to speak again without waiting for Damien to answer him. "It's settled then. Your first therapy session is tomorrow at four. I checked to make sure it didn't interfere with any of your classes...which, by the way, your professors have agreed to keep letting you attend with the condition that you make up any tests that have been missed so far this semester."

He stayed silent, knowing that there was no fighting any of this. There was no way Damien would survive in the real world where he had to pay for everything so the only choice he had in the matter was to do whatever his father requested. Staring down at his plate, Damien let his mind race while his twin brought up the affair again, obviously wanting some questions answered. Dae didn't hear them though. He was too busy thinking about everything he was about to give up and about the girl that was currently lying in his bed at home. What was he going to tell her? Obviously she wouldn't be able to bring drugs into his house again and that was their favorite past time together. All he could do was hope that these changes wouldn't rock his world enough to send Lila packing. Their love could survive this...right?

Void Bolt Ch 6

Another chapter collaboration with @devsash. I have not been posting here, and I apologize. I will catch up as best as I can.

Chapter 5

Niqi peered at the guest room door. She took a couple of slow breaths before stepping towards it. Goldeneyes sat on the bed, peering out at the bloodthistle. He seemed lost in thought. "What if I tried mixing it with...? But would that work?" he whispered to himself. Niqi raised her hand and softly knocked on the door. The Sin'dorei man started, glancing at the door. "Yes?" Niqi opened the door just a small amount. “Mister Goldeneyes? Sir? Ummm, lunch is almost ready.” Goldeneyes peered at her for a moment. "I'm not hungry," he said. “Are you certain? The way you dressed the meat, it smells heavenly.” She chewed her lip a moment. “I could bring a bowl to you, if you would rather be alone.” "I'll be damned before I eat anything prepared by a Greythorn," he said flatly.

“All...all right. I’m sorry. I just wanted to help,” she closed the door and wandered out to the garden. She flopped down in front of the bloodthistle, staring at them as tears streamed down her face. "Niqi?" Mehe said, stepping out after her. He frowned, seeing her tears. "What is it? Did Goldeneyes say something?" “I was just trying to help...”’she whispered. “But he won’t eat because I helped make it.” Mehe sighed. "Honestly, if I didn't trust you, I'd be the same way. He needs time to see you're not who he thinks you are." “I don’t think he’ll even give me a chance, Mehe. I don’t know what the other Greythorns did. But it must have been bad.” She reached out, gently touching the vibrant bloom. "I don't know," Mehe admitted. "He doesn't talk much about his world." “How did I make you see, Mehe? That I was all right?” "I saw how much you care about Anas." Mehe sat down beside her. "And I could tell you're a genuine person. That's what matters to me." “So just being me?” She dropped her hand down into her lap. He nodded. "Yes. Now come, let's have lunch. Anas is waiting for us." She nodded and worked her way to her feet. “All right.” Mehe stood as well. He gently brushed her tears away with a tendril. "Come," he said, turning and stepping inside. "I'll have to find Ælithil later as well. Should I wait near the shop or would he be anywhere else?" “I’m not sure. He just found out about a friend who died on the tree. He went to ask family about it.” She made her way to the stove. “Shall I serve?” "My deepest condolences." Mehe shook his head. "I think Anas wants to serve. He's really happy that he was able to heal you." “I’m glad I convinced him to try then,” Niqi smiled. She crossed to the table and found a seat. “It hurt, but my back feels a lot better now.” "Good." Mehe smiled as Anas placed the food before them and handed out the cutlery. "Okay then, let's dig in," Anas said, grinning widely. "I can't wait to taste my little sister's cooking!" Niqi smiled. “I do hope it’s good. It’s been a while since I cooked anything.” “I'm sure it is," Anas said, picking up his spoon. Niqi followed suit. Dipping in, she took a bite. “Oh Light. I need to know what he put on this. It’s wonderful.” Anas glanced at the door to the guestroom. "He's not joining us for lunch?” Niqi shook her head, looking at the table. "I'll give him some," Mehe said, getting to his feet. He filled a bowl with some of the food. “He won’t eat it,” Niqi said sullenly. “Because it was prepared by a Greythorn.” The two men stared at her. "He said that?" Anas asked, frowning. Mehe pursed his lips, glancing at the door. “He did. It’s fine. He doesn’t trust me.” Niqi took another bite, shrugging. She did her best not to get upset, but her drooping ears and tangled tendrils gave her away. Anas placed a hand on her shoulder. "I apologize for his behavior, little one," he said softly. “It’s hardly your fault, Anas.” Her tendril grabbed ahold of his hand. "I really want you to feel comfortable, safe and welcome here, but it's not working out that way." He sighed, gently squeezing her shoulder. She smiled sadly up at him. “I do feel safe with you and Mehe here. I’ll manage. Let’s just... have lunch. Maybe he will change his mind?” She tried to sound hopeful. "I daresay he will," Mehe said. He resumed his seat before taking another bite. “So, umm, how does it work? To make a pressed flower, Mehe? I’ve never done it.” She turned her attention to the Ren’dorei, offering him a small smile. "Hmm?" He glanced at her, his spoon halfway to his mouth. "I pick one that seems appropriate to press, cut it a little if it's too thick then put it between a pair of small wooden boards and tie them together." “Oh...” "We should get some ice cream sometime, little one." Anas smiled at her. "It's been so long since we did that." Niqi smiled up at him. “That sounds amazing. I would love some. Should we try new flavors or the same as last time?” She took another bite looking at the closed door. "Maybe we could try something new this time." Anas glanced at Mehe. "Would you like to join us, my love?” The Ren'dorei man nodded. "Just no mint. I hate mint." “Lemon is my favorite, though Anas introduced me to cookie dough. Maybe another fruit option? Like strawberry?” She tipped her head to the side. “Why no mint?” "It's just..." He pulled a face before shaking his head. "Damn well tastes like medicine." Niqi giggled. “All right, no mint.” "Strawberry sounds nice though." Anas chuckled. "We should try that. Who knows, it might even go well with the other flavours." Niqi finished up her bowl and headed towards the sink to clean up. “Berries and lemon are good together. And chocolate. So I bet they will.” "Only one way to find out! We'll have to get it." Anas helped himself to another spoonful. “Go to the city and get some...” She smiled faintly. "We'll do it sometime," Anas said, smiling at her. "Unless you'd like for us to go with Mehe and meet Ælithil?” Niqi took a moment to consider it. Looking up at Anas's face seemed to make her choice for her. "No, brother. You need rest. I can see it on your face. You shouldn't be taking a trip into the city yet.” "She's right, dalah'surfal. You need to rest." Mehe finished his meal and stood. "I'll go ahead and look for him." Niqi crossed over to Mehe and reached out for his dishes. “I’ll take care of that, Mehe. You relax for a little while.” "It's fine. I'll do them." He nodded before beginning to clean up. "Would you want Anas and me to link with you so that you can try delving into the Shadow?" “Will you show me how? I have no idea what to do.” She looked to Anas nervously. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Anas smiled reassuringly at her. "You'll be fine, little one. Mehe knows what he's doing." “Well, then yes. I would feel better if I had some idea what was happening.” She wiped off her hands and moved to Anas’s side. She gently smoothed down his hair while she waited for instruction. Anas smiled at her before rising to wash his dishes as well. Mehe dried his hands. "First, what do you know of the Shadow?" he asked, setting the cloth down. “I know it’s the balance of the Light. And that it has been twisted by people into something evil, but it’s not.” She pushed her messy hair behind her shoulders. He nodded. "It's dangerous, but no more evil than the Light is. It simply is and it's not to be feared." Behind him, Anas carefully set the washed cutlery aside and wiped his hands dry. He turned towards them, gently placing a hand on Niqi's shoulder. “Why is it treated as such?” "People like things in black and white." Mehe shrugged. "Also, because it's the opposing force of the Light and the Light is seen as good, it's easy to follow that the Shadow must then be evil." Niqi nodded. “All right. I guess that makes sense.” "Delve too deeply into the Shadow and you'll find the Void." Mehe grimaced. "It's far more powerful, but also harder to control. If you're not strong enough to keep your feet, it'll drag you under." He glanced at the Kaldorei man. "Anas is better versed in its use than I am. I prefer to avoid it." She smiled at Anas. Turning back to Mehe, she furrowed her brow. "But, because we are Ren'dorei, should that not make us more able to deal with it?" She settled into a chair to listen. "On the contrary," he said wryly, "It makes us more vulnerable to its bloody whispers. The Void tempts you to draw more and more upon it. It can and will drown out your consciousness, fragmenting your thoughts, and eventually break your mind." “So that’s why they are so loud when I’m upset...” Niqi pulled her knees up and set her chin on them. “The meditation I’ve been learning helps. But they’re still there.” Mehe nodded. "It's what we have to endure as Ren'dorei," he said, a note of resignation entering his voice. Niqi closed her eyes and sighed. She took a few breaths and tried to relax. “So what do I have to do?” she asked quietly as she opened her eyes once again "I'll reach out to you," Mehe said, his eyes turning purple. He sent out a tendril of power to the Ren'dorei girl, probing gently. "Can you feel it?" Niqi’s eyes shifted slowly as she nodded. “It’s cold.” She felt an odd sensation reacting from within herself. She chewed her lip as she attempted to focus on it. "Good." Mehe nodded. "Try linking with me. If it helps, close your eyes and visualize that you're taking my hand." “All right.” She closed her eyes and pictured it as he had described. As the hands in her mind touched, she gasped, jumping at the sensation. "It's okay, don't be scared," Mehe said calmly. "This is how you link with someone. What do you feel now?" Niqi took a shuddering breath. “It’s like a tugging. But it’s cold.” "The touch of this magic is always cold." Mehe watched her face carefully. "Are you okay with this? Do you want to continue?" "I'll help if it makes you feel better, little one," Anas offered, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. Niqi took a few breaths and nodded. “I want to learn.” Her tendrils wrapped around Anas’s hand and she squeezed her eyes a bit tighter, trying to hold on to the visual. Mehe nodded. "Now, I want you to feel along from where we're holding hands back towards the source within yourself." She nodded slowly. Her brow furrowed a few times and her head tipped and moved one way, then the other. Mehe glanced at Anas. "Will you link with me, dear one?" Anas nodded, his eyes turning purple as well. He reached out, forging the link with familiar ease. His power trickled through the link, mingling freely with Mehe's. Niqi’s eyes snapped open wide when Anas joined the link. Mehe smiled at his mate before returning his attention to the Ren'dorei girl. "Now, I want you to visualize that source within you as a ball filled with water. Hold up your right hand and imagine it trickling slowly down your hand, pooling in your palm." “Gods... is it always so....” she shook off the thought, refocusing on the lesson.  She closed her eyes again, picturing a ball slightly larger than her hand. She reached out towards it, both in her mind and physically. As she started picturing the water, the color shifted. “It’s turning black. Why is it turning black?” Her voice took on an edge of panic. "It's the Shadow," Mehe explained patiently. "Deep breaths now. Remember you're here and you're safe with us. Just let it trickle slowly into your palm." The tendril’s grip on Anas’s hand tightened as she took a few deep breaths. She focused on the image, the dark water dripping started as a few large drops before suddenly flowing quickly. She screwed up her face, “No.... it’s...” Mehe reached out at once. Anas's power flowed gently through him as he focused it, soothing the flow of the magic within the Ren'dorei girl. "You're okay, Niqi. We've got you," he said. "Breathe, little one," Anas murmured. "Focus but don't force it." Niqi choked back a sobbing breath. “I am trying to make it trickle. But it came so fast!” "It can do that," Mehe said calmly. "You'll get better at it with practice. Don't worry, Anas and I won't let you fall." The girl took another breath and tried again. This time she managed to take it from slow drips to rapid ones. She sighed, relieved. Focusing again, she pushed it a bit past a trickle, but not as hard as the first time. "Good," Mehe said encouragingly. "Just like that. How do you feel now?" “Oh Light this is hard. I um.... a little better? It makes my head spin a bit. And I can hear the whispers now.” Her fingers moved in front of her like she was attempting to cup her hand. Mehe nodded. "The whispers will always be there when you work with the Shadow and the Void. You must learn to pay them no heed." "Look at your hand, little one," Anas said softly. She opened her eyes slowly before gazing at her palm. Gasping, “Is that from me?” "It is," Anas said with a smile. "You're doing very well." Her focus slipped and she opened up further, the shadows pulling down around her arm. She clamped down on it just as it reached her shoulder. "Close your eyes," Mehe instructed. "Focus on your breath. Keep breathing in and out slowly." Her purple eyes slid closed. Air flowed slowly in her nose and back out. The swirls retreated to her elbow and stayed around the lower portion of her arm. “Come on...” she whispered mostly to herself. "I think we've done enough for today," Mehe said, nodding at Anas. "You should rest, Niqi. I'll need to search for Ælithil." Niqi opened her eyes, hurt evident behind them. “I can get it! I can… I… ” "I know you can, little one," Anas said, smiling at her. "But Mehe's right. The Shadow isn't something that should be forced. It's not safe to push too far on your first try." She dropped her hand, letting it fall to her lap. "All right. I'm sorry I didn't do very well," she said softly. She glanced down at the shadows still clinging to her arm. "What do I do now?" "You did well for your first attempt. Now close your eyes," Mehe instructed. "Picture the water flowing back up your arm into the ball." She did as he asked, the shadows curling away and dissipating. She let out a relaxed sigh. "Very good," Anas said, pride in his voice. "That's wonderful, Niqi. You did so well." "I'll let go now," Mehe said before releasing the link. The purple faded from his eyes and Anas's. As the link released, Niqi’s body visibly slumped. “Oh Light, I’m so tired now.” "You should rest." Anas peered at her in concern. Niqi put her head down on the table, curling her arms around her face. “I’ll be ok. I’ll just take a minute here.” She closed her eyes, shuddering a little. Anas sat down beside her, his brow furrowing in worry. "I think she might've overexerted herself," he murmured. "It's okay. She can rest here with you. Keep you company while I'm in the city." Mehe glanced out of the window at the sky. "I should leave soon if I'm meeting him at the shop." The little Ren’dorei shifted slightly, but didn’t raise her head. “Why am I so tir...” she mumbled. "It's okay, little one." Anas patted her back gently. "Working the Shadow can be exhausting. Do you want to go to bed?" Niqi shook her head. “It’s your bed. I can rest here.” "I'd rather you rest there, where it's more comfortable," Anas said. Mehe nodded in agreement. The door to the guestroom closed with a soft click. Niqi slowly raised her head, blue eyes turning to them. “All right. Are you...are you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did i?” Mehe smiled wryly. "We're fine. Really." "I've been doing this with Mehe for a very long time." Anas smiled at his mate. "We've had a lot of practice." A relieved sigh escaped her lips. “Maybe someday I will be better at it,” she yawned. She slid down from the chair and hugged Anas. Anas hugged her back. "Off to bed now," he said, drawing back to smile down at her. "Hopefully when you wake up, Ælithil will be here for you." Releasing Anas, she turned to Mehe and smiled faintly. “Thank you, for...well everything.” Mehe nodded. "You're welcome," he said simply. She turned and walked to their bedroom. Climbing up into the bed, she pulled the pillow close, clinging to it. She closed her eyes and whispered to herself, "Please just let me sleep, please. Please don't let him be there." Anas's ears twitched. He threw Mehe a worried glance. "I need to go to the city," Mehe said softly. "Can you look after her, dalah'surfal?" Anas nodded. "Be safe, my love." Rising, he kissed Mehe's forehead before stepping into their bedroom. "Is everything okay, little one?" Niqi hugged the pillow tighter. “He’s gonna be there. If I sleep. He’s going to be there again...” she whimpered. Anas sighed sadly. He climbed into bed beside her and hugged her. "I'll hold you. Would that help?" She nodded and curled into him. “I’m sorry. I… I just...” She yawned wide. “I’m scared he’s really there.” "He won't be. Not as long as I'm here." Anas stroked her hair gently. "Sleep, little one. I'll be here." She took a shuddering breath and let herself drift off to sleep. Anas pulled the blanket over them both. He held her close as he slipped into slumber as well.

Reyes Vidal Weekly Prompt #9

Prompt: Valley of the Kings: Write/draw something that alludes to Reyes’ callsign (Anubis).

Well, is nothing shiny because I’m on holidays and can’t work for as long as I want, but I wanted to try it and explain a part of my HC about the Anubis nickname ^^

Hope you like it! <3

Another easy night at Tartarus. Sara had returned from a mission a couple of hours ago, and after showering in Reyes’ home, she has walked directly to the club. Kian waves to her when she passes in front of the bar. She returns the gesture with a broad smile before climbing the stairs two at a time. The door to Reyes’ inner sanctum is locked, as always, and she stops in front of it, hand raised to open it, but stops at the last moment. “SAM, is Reyes alone? I don’t want to interrupt a meeting.”

After a few seconds, the AI talks with her through the private channel. “He is alone, Ryder. I’ll move to private mode. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you, SAM. Have fun with Suvi and those readings of the Scourge.” Pulsing the lock, she begins the unlocking sequence. When the door opens, she steps inside, finding Reyes seating on his usual spot with a tower of pads near his leg to his right. “Hello, handsome.”

“Hey, Preciosa. Glad you stopped by.” He puts the pad aside and opens his arms, and she takes the chance immediately, sinking in his arms while straddling his legs. She buries her face in his neck and inhales happily, enjoying the scent that is so distinctly Reyes. His chuckle makes her shake resting on his chest. “Someone has missed me.”

Slapping his arm, she pushes her body away splashing her hands on his chest. She has been so happy to see him that she didn’t process the fact that he is wearing a shirtless tank top instead of his usual jacket, which lays forbidden in the back of the couch. Her fingers delve below the shirt, toying with the fine hair of his chest and the chain of his dog tags. “You missed me too, but your stupid manly code avoids you to show it.”

With a lopsided grin, he moves his hands up her back, making her come back to his chest. “Fair enough. And yes, I missed you too. I need to finish a couple of reports before we leave, and then I take you to a real date this time. We may even reach to the dessert part, the real one, I mean.”

Turning her face to kiss his neck, she slides from his legs, sitting beside her and laying until she is resting her head on his thighs. “Fine. But try to make it quick. I need to leave Kadara tomorrow morning and want to spend all the time I can with you.”

Resting a hand on her abs, he recovers the pad and keeps reading. Trying to entertain herself, Sara opens her omnitool and begins to write a report about the last mission. It was for Kandros, so she centres the report on the wildlife, the number of outcast and roekar they have found, and the primary dangers of the area. After half an hour, she finishes her work and closes the screen once the message has been sent. Raising her gaze, she fixes it in his face. Reyes is absorbed in the report he is reading, and she takes the time to study his profile. Letting her eyes roam over the lines of his face, she can’t stop her mind to create the thought ‘Gods, but he is beautiful’. He seems to feel his gaze and lowers his eyes to her with a lopsided grin. “I’m almost done, mi amor.”

A resigned sigh leaves her mouth, and she tries to distract herself looking around the room, but nothing has changed since the last time. Returning her gaze to him, she finds a thing to entertain her mind. Raising a hand, she slides a finger under the chain on his neck, pulling it until the dog tags clink over his lower chest. Picking up them between her fingers, she examines engravings. In one appears an official Alliance ID with the name R. Vidal over it. The other one shows the code name Anubis and the same ID. Deciding to memorise the number until he is available to her, she keeps the tag between her fingers while she reads the number again and again and again. At last, almost an hour after her arrival, he puts the pad aside, fixing his gaze on her. Sara gives him a little smile before moving the tag between the fingers. “You know… I always wanted to know the origin behind the nickname.”

“Oh, that’s a nice story. Do you mind if we talk about it while at home?”

Lowering the tag to his chest again, she covers it with her hand. “Only if you promise me to share it. It will not be the first time you distract me with something shiny or hot once we reach your condo.”

Picking up her hand and raising it to his mouth, he kisses her knuckles lovingly. “Promise. I haven’t talked about it since my days on the Milky Way, but I’ll do it for you. And now, stand up, mi amor. We have a little stroll to my house.”

Smiling broadly, she slides from the couch and stands up, offering her hands to Reyes and helping him. He grabs the jacket before moving to the door, pulling it on while the door unlocks. Leaving the room he uses as his office, they cross the upper level of the Tartarus, moving away from it and enjoying the silence that follows them when the doors close behind them. The setting sun paints the Slums in a dark red light, one that Reyes never liked. Walking as swiftly as possible, he goes down the stairs and reaches the elevator, with Sara close on his tail. Some other patrons are waiting for the lift, and Reyes nods or waves to the ones who acknowledge him. Stepping into the elevator, Reyes and Sara keep their distances, even when their relationship is one of the worst secrets of Kadara Port. The rest of the inhabitants that share the lift with them just keep their silence of following the trail of conversation they have been having. After some long minutes, the lift stops at the marketplace and they left the elevator with the rest of the patrons. Reyes guides her to the upper section of the Port, having to pass several doors and even catch two more lifts. At last, the door to his home appears, and she waits beside it while Reyes unlocks it after checking the security footage and examining it. Once he is happy with the result, he opens the door, letting her move inside first. She moves directly to the living room, where she takes off her shoes and jacket while waiting for him to join her. He takes off his jacket, hanging it on a chair on his way to the kitchen, where he fishes inside the freezer and takes up a couple of prepared meals, putting them in the oven to cook them. Grabbing a bottle of Angaran wine and two glasses, he returns to the living room, finding Sara already stretching lazily on the couch. Reyes sits beside her, putting down the items on the side table and serving a good share of wine in each glass before passing one to her and sitting back, legs crossed. “And now I believe I owe you a history.”

Taking a long gulp from her glass, she puts it down on the table before resting her head on his shoulder and picking up the dog tags in her hand. “Yeah, but only if is not too painful for you. My Alliance days are full of good moments, but some of the bad are very-- let’s say stinging.”

With a shrug, he takes a sip from his wine, letting the sweet flavour rest in his tongue for some seconds before swallowing. “Well, is not a long one, just complicated. How much do you know about Anubis, the Egyptian god?”

Sitting back in her original spot, she bends the legs and rests the chin on her knees, looking at him intently. “Just the basic shit. God of the Underworld and the mummification, right?”

Reyes smiles at him. She never stops surprising him. Is not common knowledge to know about ancient Earth mythology for someone of her age. “Yeah, but he is a lot of more things, between them Protector of Tombs and the entity responsible for guiding the souls to the afterlife if they deserve it. He also judges and decides who deserve to have a good afterlife and who doesn’t.” She looks genuinely interested in his words, with her tilted head and concentrated frown. “Well, the nickname appeared on my younger ages as the pilot. We are stationed in Sigurd’s Cradel, and I used to be the one who piloted the shuttles on our weekly trip to Afterlife, on Omega. The nickname appeared like a joke made by someone who knew a bit about the story, but it sank easily in the team’s mind, and soon everyone at the base was calling me Anubis.”

She laughs, extending a hand to grab the glass and take a long gulp before putting it back on the table. “Consider me surprised. I never suspected the origin of it would be something this trivial, like trips to Omega…”

Finishing the wine on his glass with a long gulp, Reyes put it down and crosses his arms. “Well, I said it was the first part. That is how it appeared. Now I will tell you how it turned in my code name for real.” Closing his eyes, Reyes lays his head on the back of the couch. “We have a routinary mission of resupply in a base on Imorkan. I knew something was amiss when no one answered my calls before the landing, but my Sergeant insisted on landing. As soon as we opened the doors, a group of pirates attacked. I send a distress call to base before leaving the shuttle, rifle on hand. Sadly, the pirates had already killed half of my platoon, and the rest have some degree of wounds on their bodies. Luckily for us, we have the upper ground and some grenades, and we decimated them enough to force them to leave with the tail between their legs. After a quick round, we saw that I was the only one unharmed. Helping the wound to enter the shuttle, I take position near the fallen bodies of the rest of my team. The pirates have brought varrens with them, and the damn dogs are howling in the distance. I just swore to myself to protect their bodies to have something acceptable to send home. A couple of hours later, a new shuttle arrives with reinforcements, and they found me surrounded by dead varrens with the bodies of my team, including the sergeant, behind me. After that, the nickname turned into a serious one. The same person that begun with it shared the new piece of mythology, making the rest join him in his passion of calling me Anubis.”

She takes his hand, kissing the palm sweetly before resting it on her knees and leaning her face on it. “You got my respect for your actions, Reyes. Now I like even more the nickname.”

With a soft blush, he pulls the hand away before she can feel the little shudder is running over his body. “Well, maybe the last part will break that illusion of it. Remember that I told you that the pirates fled the scene? They weren’t the brightest pirates on the cluster and was able to crack one the remaining pads and got a location. My commander didn’t wanted to attack, but I ignored her orders, taking my shuttle with a good share of firepower and raiding the base. They didn’t expect a one-man assault, and I got the chance to… let’s say weight their hearts and decide if they deserve to leave or to die a painful death. You can imagine my decision on that matter.”

She always closes her eyes and turns her mouth into a thin line every time he shares a part of his past that goes against his believes. But she always finds a way to deal with them. “That’s quite the story for a nickname, Reyes. I can’t say I like what you did with the pirates, but I can understand your reasons.”

Closing the distance to her, he cups her face between his hands, kissing his nose. “I’ll never understand how you can hear all my shit and still be there.”

Smiling softly to him, she leans closer, giving his lips a quick peek. “Is called love, you moron. But you are not Anubis anymore. I like some parts of him, don’t take me wrong, but I like that the darkest part is being pulled into the light of Reyes Vidal.”

His hands move to her back, pulling her closer until she lowers her legs, laying against his chest. “You are my light, Sara. I’m a better man thanks to you. Now kiss me before I say another cheese sentence that you will remember for the rest of the year.”

“My pleasure, handsome.” She leans closer, sealing their lips in a heated kiss that makes them drown in the other one's soul, their hearts dragged to one another like they were black holes, but damn if they have any intention to stop. The ping of the oven is entirely ignored while they lost their minds in their shared love and understanding.

181

Do you have a signifigant other at the moment? Do you love him/her? For the billionth time, yes and yes. How many people do you live with? Are these people related to you? I live with four people and they are all my immediate family. I also live with one dog and he’s my favorite out of everybody. Have you ever considered anyone or anything too personal for your liking? I don’t get if you want to mean anyone who’s too open about themselves that it’s scary or like a song that’s too personal that it opens up wounds... Are you a confident person, or do you keep to yourself usually? It depends. There are situations in which I wouldn’t mind having the spotlight on me, but that’s only when I feel totally comfortable with the people. Have you ever had to have surgery before? What was this for? Never and I wish I never have to? I’m terrified of anaesthesia and needles.

Are you listening to any music right now? What song is it? Nope, but my brain is playing Paramore’s Grudges for me. Where was the last place you vacationed to? Did you enjoy this time? I was in Vigan and I loved it loved it loved it. My appetite for museums was more than satisfied there. When was the last time you ate pizza? Where from? Was it good? We got Pizza Hut delivered this weekend. Always a good idea. Their mozzarella crust is to die for. Is there anyone right now that you are simply/overly infatuated with? Eh sure I like Gabie’s face. What is your orientation? Gay? Straight? Metrosexual? Anything other? I really dunno. When people ask I give them a shrug and tell them I don’t really care, which they respect and I’m grateful for that. The closest label to fit me would I guess be queer. Is there anyone you know who is utterly repulsive? Who is this person? My mom, most of the time. Are you related to any elected officials? What is their position? Yeah, the people on my maternal grandfather’s side hold several positions in our province. Not sure about the specifics. Do you have a certain standard you follow, when it comes to relationships? All of my prospects have always been super intelligent so I guess that’s one standard I unconsciously take note of. I know Mike is taking up molecular biology and biotechnology; and when she hadn’t migrated yet, Andi knew and said things kids our age wouldn’t and that’s what pulled me to her; and Gab is just simply the smartest person I know. Not so much academically like Mike but she’s a walking encyclopedia about everything else nonetheless. Who did you last hug? When did this hug take place? Where? Summer, and we were in Skywalk–which, for anyone from outside my university, is a spot in the college that serves as the home or base of our org. It’s called Skywalk since it’s a tunnel-like passage that links the first building to the second. Who was the last person to play with your hair? Are they cute? Gabie I think, but someone from the org might have done it more recently. I find either cute. Who was the last person close to you, that died? Did you cry? I wasn’t close to her as a friend but she was my sister in a sense that I went to high school with her, and my entire class is my family, so when she died it affected me deeply.. I did cry upon realizing that this was a person in my circle who was gone, and I cried listening to her sister talk about her at the wake. What was your favorite year of your life? Why is this your favorite? 2014. It was the most depression-free time I had. 16 year old me was so bubbly and cheerful, I miss her.   Is there anyone out there who can make you smile at any time? Hans. What is your favorite television show? Why do you watch this show? Not anything on TV nowadays but my heart will always belong to Breaking Bad. It’s one of the few storylines that I was able to latch on to until the very end. If you're in school, do you like this school you attend? Or do you not? I love it. No reason not to, it’s my dream university. Have you ever done anything really dangerous or illegal with friends? I don’t think so. When my friends do something stupid I’m usually the first one to nope out and be the mom that tells them not to be too rowdy. Who is the one person out there who makes you feel very special? My girlfriend whenever she opens doors for me, puts her jackets over my shoulders, gives me the chicken skin, etc. Do people call you a low-life sometimes/always? Why do they call you that? That’s not a term we use around here. Do you want to tell anyone anything right now? Who is this person? I guess I want to tell Sofie I’m sorry that our friendship didn’t last the way we wanted it to. We made plans for the next few years and were each other’s confidante, so it was sad to have it fizzle out. Are you going to post this survey on MySpace after you're finished? Hah. What is the fourteenth word of the song you're currently listening to? Are there any foods out there you just can’t refrain from eating every week? Burgers. Do you like Mexican food? What’s your favorite meal under that genre of food? Sure. Any day is a good day for a burrito. Do you enjoy shopping? Who do you usually go shopping with anyways? I would if I had the money for it...I usually do the shopping myself or with my sister. When you see someone attractive, what's the first thing you look for? Well since I already found them attractive as implied by the question, I move over to see if they’re an asshole, or is one of the rich kids with elitist problems. Sadly that’s a reality especially in my uni–lots of attractive people, very few with depth. How many times a day do you brush your teeth? Do you find this healthy? 1 or 2. I’d say it’s acceptable. How old were you when you lost your virginity? Who'd you lose it to anyways? I had just turned 18 and it was with my present girlfriend. Do you wash your own clothes? Or does someone else do that for you? My mom is in charge of laundry. Are you afraid of thunderstorms? What exactly makes you afraid of them? Not at all. I find myself calm around them. What color are the shutters on your house by the windows, if there are any? We don’t have those, just curtains. They’re all white, but in varying shades. When was the last time you attended church? What is the name of this church? Sunday because Catholic family yuck. I don’t even know what it’s called. Do you enjoy talking smack to those annoying telemarketers? Is it funny? First of all that’s mean. I just say I’m not interested or hang up completely. Do you consider yourself a healthy person? Physically and mentally? It’s weird–I know I don’t live a healthy lifestyle (don’t exercise, have a really dangerous diet of burgers and everything fried, etc.) but my body (both in and out) doesn’t reflect that and appears to be in top shape, so I’d say I’m in the middle. Mentally, not a chance that I’m healthy. Who was the last person you held hands with? Were they taller/shorter? Gab, slightly taller.

What's in a name? part 3

Bucky Barnes x OC

Warnings: swearing, alochol, weed, maybe other stuff? Idk fir sure but stop reading if you don't like something.

Summary: Avengers & X-Men together, Bucky and E get rebellious, some deja vu happens, and Bucky visits the home of the famous mutants. (I'm bad at summaries..)

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

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

E continued to chat with the Avengers at the end of the bar. Light chatter and friendly conversation flowed easily and freely. The whole time Bucky's arm stayed around her and her's around him. They paired easily together, it felt right and E appreciated that he rolled with it. His vibe with her's meshed very well, and the others noticed. Never before had Bucky been so casual and comfortable.

Eventually, people went to their seats when a light dinner began to be served. E sat at her respective table and as she sat she subtly looked for where Bucky was seated. With a quick glance, her eyes met his. He was already looking at her and the solider kept sneaking looks at the mutant throughout the whole meal. Following dinner, the auction winners were announced. There were a few trips she bid on, but sadly won nothing. Bucky laughed sofly to himself when her saw her mouth "fuckin hell" after a trip to Japan went to someone not her. He laughed because she comes from on of the most powerful teams on the planet and could travel anywhere at any moment. But he minded his own for the rest of the prize winners.

Towards the end of the light meal and prize announcements, he glaced at E and truly took note of her. Her hair looked like silver silk, shiny and beautiful. She twirled her wrist and her drink stirred. Suddenly, he was hit with a sense of deja vu. It hit him hard and he almost thought it would trigger a memory. Rather, he was hit with a feeling of comfort towards the woman. A sense of familiarity. As if he had witness and experienced her doing that sime action before. It threw him off, but Bucky has had crazier, and worse things, happen to him so he brushed it off. Although he made a mental note potentially bring it up to someone.

Once that was over, people began to move around and socialize again. His gaze went towards E's direction, but he frowned when she was gone. After searching a bit, and some help from Sharon, he found himself heading towards the empty patio area outside. The sight he was met with was not expected. E sat on a table, hair pushed over one shoulder, and took no notice to the rest of the world. What shocked him was her reaching into her bra and pulling out a joint. He was curious as to where the lighter was. However, he saw her snap her fingers and a flame appeared. Never before had he witness something like that. Based off how he was raised, a lady's cigaret was lit by the nearest gentleman. She brought it to her lips and lit up, free and independent. There was no hesitation or nervousness to be in trouble. Before he had a chance to speak up, she beat him to it.

"James, if it bothers you, I'm not leaving. I was here first." Her voice was firm, but not harsh. The playfulness was still present.

"No.. Just wasn't expecting it. How did you know I was out here?" At this point he came and stood next to her. The smell became stronger and he wondered what Steve would say if he saw this moment.

She took a hit and ashed it against the table. "I can feel vibrations through the ground. Certain people have distinct footsteps that I can tell easier than others. Your's is light but still heavy. If that makes any sense..?" She laughed at how odd her own sentence sounded. "Maybe this hit harder than I thought?"

"Nah I get what you mean. Any reason for that? If you don't mind me asking."

She tooked to him and exhaled through her nose. "Got too stuffy in there. The big wigs at my table kept getting serious during this fun event. I wanted to come out here and get out of that mood." She shrugged her shoulders in a casually. Then she pinched the joint between her fingers and held it to him in an offering manner. "Want a hit?"

His eyes must have shown some amusing panic because E giggled and told him he didn't have to.

"I- I just never have. I don't even know if it'd effect me. I can barely get drunk."

Her expression went to thought. "Huh.. I never thought about that. Makes sense though. I mean.. I cannot easily either, but this is strong shit. It works for me."

"Yeah. But I never said I am opposed to trying." He pinched it and he took a super soldier sized puff. She told him to truly inhale it like a cigaret. He followed her instructions and found himself in a coughing fit. Silver hair falled to the front of her face as she leaned forward and laughed.

"Ahh hahaha deep breaths solider! It'll be fine." Her laugh filled the small patio and he glared and coughed again lightly. Her hand on his back easily helped calm down. Her touch was soft and he felt better again.

"Oh hush. We all cannot be stoners like you."

"I've been doing this for decades. You just gotta keep up." She offered another hit but he declined. Then she finished it. "Think you are alright to head back inside?"

He nodded. "I don't think it did anything. Now I just smell."

She stood up and got closer to him. His breath hitched as she pulled him closer and fixed his tie. Smooth he thought. "Trust me Sarge. You're fine." The silkiness that was her voice almost made his knees give out. He stood dumbly as she walked back inside. The sound of the door snapped him out of the trance.

By the time he caught up, E was already back in the main room. He could smell her perfume strongly, indicating she put a bit more on. This woman was nothing he had ever experienced before. Coming over to her, she smiled and kept conversing with Thor. His arm went around her waist just as it has before dinner. In his mind, no other pose felt more natural. She fit at his side perfectly. Then the two stayed close until the party eventually ended.

"I have to head back. I'm getting tired. Not that this hasn't been fun. My bed it just better right now to me." E hugged and said goodbye to the Avengers. Her hug with Bucky being the last and longest hug. He ended up walking her out and waited for her car to arrive.

"I had fun tonight. And I have you to thank for that." A blush appeared on her face at Bucky's words. "This didn't feel like an obligation with you shaking things up."

Her heels clicked as she walked up to him real close for the second time that night. "If ya want, you can swing by the school tomorrow. Come check it out? See how us X-Men live. Then things can keep shaking up for you."

"I'd like that doll." She inhaled sharply and tried to hide a quick laugh. "Something funny?"

Her eyes met his. "No no I just didn't expect you to call me that. I liked it but thought it was too cliche considering your age. So I just got amused for a second. Plus no one has called me that since the 50s."

"I forget your almost as old as me. But get used to it. It suits you." He got some courage and pushed some hair behind her ear. Her hair was soft and silky in his fingers. He wanted nothing more but to see how soft her full lips were. But life has other plans because her car drove up. Her purple eyes turned to look at the black town car.

"Yeah but I haven't hit a century yet. You and Steve have me beat there. But I have to go. Come by tomorrow?" There was hope in her voice. She wanted to see him again.

His hand fell to her shoulder. "I wanna see how you mutants live. I'll be there in the afternoon. Around 3?"

She nodded and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "That works for me." Her voice was soft in his ear. "Goodnight James." Her smile was the last thing he saw before her car went off and out of the city.

"Goodnight doll."

THE NEXT DAY

Bucky Barnes was not as bold as he used to be, but he also wasn't as timid as some assumed. Joining the Avengers helped with that. However, walking into the mansion that house the X-Men, both new and old, was a humbling and somewhat nerve enducing moment for him. These people had powers and could crush him with their minds. So when a blue, hairy man with glasses approached as various people walked around, he didn't know what to expect.

"Can I help you?" He asked Bucky. Who simply looked shocked at what he was seeing, as a young kid who looked to be made of marble passed by. He was sure he had seen everything know.

Quickly, he gained his composure and responded. "Um yeah. I am here to meet E. She said to meet her inside right up front, but I am a little out of my element here."

The man chuckled, "It can be a lot to take in at first, but I have seen your group with the Hulk, not much different than us. But follow me, E got held up outside. I'm Hank by the way." They began walking and Bucky introduced himself. Passing to a doorway outside, he saw a picture of you, Hank, a blue woman, and a couple others in yellow suits. Your hair was a little shorter, slightly wavier. You all looked offical and like a true team.

Next thing he knew, he was outside and saw groups of people all about. There was a white haired woman teaching a class of students, Wade seemingly playing lawn darts with a short haired young lady and another with pinkish hair, also there was a man with narrow glasses talking to a woman with wings. It was a sight.

"I have to go back inside, class to teach, but she is over by the pond. And welcome to the school for gifted youth Bucky." With that he walked away and scanned the pond. He was completely caught up with the sight before him.

Now Bucky expected her to be at the edge of the pond. He did not expect E to be sliding on the water's surface running to catch something. A woman with an afro threw something out and she ran on the water more then puffed some air from her feet and she flew up a bit to catch it, and landly softly to top it off. It looked as easy as walking to her. The woman who threw, what he noticed was a football, saw him staring.

"Hey E we have a fan club." Her head turned and Bucky waved. Still standing on the pond, you smiled brightly and waved back. Then yelled for him to come over. He got closer and her hair flowed in the wind, it shined in the sun like his arm did.

"THAT was incredible." He looked her up and down as she walked off the water onto the land as if they were the same things. She blushed and looked down a little.

"Thanks, I get caught up here. We all do when it comes to using our powers. After all we got them, might as well use them."

"It's a bit more impressive than that doll." He was about to hug and give her a proper hello but the woman she was with came over.

Tossing the ball to E she said, "I am gonna kick Wade's butt in lawn darts. While you give him the grand tour, you can put the ball away. Later!" She smiled at Bucky before she trotted towards the activity he was pretty sure was illegal.

"That was Neena, aka Domino. She wanted to see how her luck would play out if I lit the ball on fire and stuff for her to catch. Or she would close her eyes or throw the ball ridiculously." Holding the ball up, he noted the slight small scortch marks. "But she ruined my grand surprise of your tour! Come on I'll show you around. She grabbed his hand and the same feeling washed over him as it did last night. He felt as if he had lived a moment like this before, maybe a little different, but surely it had happened in some fashion. She caught note of his change and checked on him. But he insisted he was fine. And he was. The feeling went as soon as it came. As she became somewhat convinced, she gave a cool tour. She showed him the mansion and eventually they ended up eating some lunch in her room.

Looking around while you got something to drink, he saw a similar picture as the one in the main area to go outside. This time it was the same group lined up outside of a bunker. All of you smiled. On her dresser there was another one of her with a blond man, same as the yellow suit group. But this was a candid photo of a couple, he could tell. Something stirred inside him and he couldn't place the feeling other than unpleasant and confused. The pair were by a pinball machine. E was playing and he was behind her with his hands at her sides. His face was close to her ear and they both smiled brightly. The only things he could tell was that the clothes matched something more from the 60s, and it looked like an old part of the mansion he saw.

A quiet voice that belonged to the woman im the photo made him turn around quickly. "His name was Alex. I am assuming you have questions?"

"I am assuming he isn't around anymore so I don't if it makes you uncomfortable." She nodded not tentitivly and he continued. "Then yeah kinda. Who is he? Because he doesn't seem like a friend and he has been in three photos now. Is he as old as the rest of you?"

E sat on her bed as she spoke, "If it weren't for us, we would have gone through nuclear warfare with the Russians and evil mutants."

Looking back at the pictures and back to E he connected the dots. "You were at the Cuban Missile Crisis? You and that group stopped this nation from becoming a nuclear wasteland?" She nodded yes. "Wow.."

"I am a founding member. Me, Hank/ Beast, Raven/ Mystique, Charles/ Professor X, Sean/ Banshee, Erik/ Magneto, then Alex/ Havok. There were a couple others too, but they aren't around anymore." As E spoke she pointed to each member. "A woman named Moira took the photos for us. She was a human CIA agent." E smiled fondly as she remembered the people she once knew.

Looking back to the pinball picture he asked the question burning his brain. "So what happened? You and him seem close."

She smirked, "Jealous much?" The smirk fell when she saw his face. "Sorry... The group of us were recruited and trained together. We started all of this. We were Charles's first students. Eventually, Alex and I became close. After the events on the beach we stayed here together. We, we were very close."

"How close? And what happened?" Bucky tried to not pry, but he wanted to know about every detail of her past for some reason.

"Maybe we should hold off on the rest of this conversation. It's a deep topic for me and my private life is heavily guarded. Everything online was approved by me. You don't even know my name for God's sake." In her heart, E wanted to tell him everything for some reason. She wanted to pour out her whole past. Hell, she wanted to tell him her name.

"But you just told me about the Cuban Missile Crisis. Plus I keep having these feelings that I already know you. I can't explain it. It's like deja vu but 100 times more." His heart was racing. He sat next to her on her bed. Her eyes were full of thought and past troubles, different to the playfulness typically there.

She sighed. "It feels weird for me too. Almost like I want to tell you. But.. My past is dark. I was a lab rat, and a victim of Hydra and the Nazi's torture. You, me, and Erik are all in the same boat. But my is worse than yours if that's not hard to believe. I was a mess before Charles found me in 1963. Listen, I will tell you in time. I promise. But can we please go back to a happier mood?" She grabbed his hand and her eyes pleaded for him to understand.

He squeezed her hand and nodded. She sighed in relief. "Just answer me one question?" She nodded. "Do you still have that suit? Because that is almost sexier than the outfit you had on last night." You lightly splashed him with water you summonded from your glass as both of you laughed. He groaned as he laughed and you pulled back the water and made sure he was dry.

"You are incorrigable James Barnes." As she spoke she got closer to his face and lightly kissed him. His lips were soft against E's full ones. The metal of his hand was smoith against her hip. The soldier hummed as they kissed. In her heart and mind she knew she would probably end up telling him everything. And that only terrified the woman a teeny bit.

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

I know this isn't my most popular fic, but for those who do read, I hope you enjoy. Same goes for new readers. As always, like and reblog!

.“Will you just shut up for a minute and let me think?!” why is this Ashton for ot4???

The combined sounds of crockery shattering, Luke’s deafening squeal, Michael’s ear splitting ‘nooooooo, Mittens!’ and a startled yowl from that stray cat that they’d somehow adopted, couldn’t mean anything good and Ashton was afraid to leave the peaceful solitude of his bedroom to investigate. However, a secondary tortured sound from his youngest boyfriend made it impossible for Ashton to ignore. He reluctantly crossed his room and stepped out onto the landing. As he neared the stairs he could hear Michael cursing from the kitchen, and an unmistakeable heavy feeling of dread started building in his stomach.

The sight that greeted the eldest boyfriend was, at first glance, not as devastating as Ashton had feared. A broken bowl that had, if the red puddle around it was anything to go by, had recently held a generous serving of tomato soup. He assumed, given the yelling aimed at the cat, that Mittens had knocked the bowl off, probably whilst trying to stick her fat head into it, however he was confused for a moment as to why Michael and Luke were flapping around the kitchen in such a panic over such a trivial accident.

“Ashton!” Luke yelped when he noticed the eldest boy in the doorway “before you say anything it wasn’t my fault!” He stated, holding up his hands as though that cemented his innocence.

“It was Mittens, but she didn’t mean it, Ash! it was just an accident…” Michael mumbled sheepishly.

Ashton furrowed his brows “why are you getting so worked up over a smashed bowl?” He asked.

The two younger boys exchanged a worried glance as Ashton looked again at the broken bowl, his heart instantly sank in his chest as he recognised the intricate blue pattern on the shards that weren’t covered in soup. “Calum’s expensive china…” he gasped.

“We just wanted to make him a really fancy meal for when he got home from visiting his parents and well…” Luke trailed off, scratching the back of his neck nervously with one hand and gesturing to the broken crockery with the other.

“I told him that we should only ever use those plates and bowls under Calum’s supervision but Luke insisted…”

“It was your stupid cat’s fault!” Luke interrupted angrily.

Michael countered in a tone that matched the younger’s rage “Mittens belongs to all of us!”

“Will you just shut up for a minute and let me think?!” Ashton asked loudly, silencing his younger boyfriends instantly. He stared hopelessly at the broken mess next to the counter, picturing the heartbroken expression on Calum’s beautiful face when he inevitably finds out that his favourite china set was now incomplete. After a moment of thinking he fixed the other two boys with a firm glare “put the rest of the china set away and dish out your fancy dinner in the normal set, I’ll clear up this mess and later we’ll search the internet until we find a replacement bowl, this pattern can’t be that hard to get hold of!”

Michael immediately grabbed his phone from the kitchen counter and opened his google app before feverishly typing in a description of the dinner set. After a moment his hopeful expression dropped, replaced with a disheartened one “it’s been discontinued…”

“Shit!” Luke cursed “I told you it was a bad idea to take in that stupid cat!”

“Stop blaming Mittens!” Michael huffed “she didn’t mean to do it, she was just curious…” he pushed his phone into his pocket and crossed the kitchen to where the disgruntled black and white fur ball was sitting near the back door. “Come here baby, Luke doesn’t mean it…” he picked up the cat and hugged it close to his body, nuzzling her fluffy head with his nose “he loves you really…”

Luke rolled his eyes “how can you be more concerned about that crazy ball of fluff than Calum’s pride and joy dinner set!”

“She’s not crazy!” Michael protested, kissing Mitten’s head gently.

If Ashton wasn’t so worried about Calum’s imminent return to heartbreaking news he would have laughed at Michael’s overbearing fondness for the fluffy ex-stray cat and Luke’s blatant anger at it in that moment. He somehow managed to hold it together and crossed the kitchen to grab a cloth “just dish up the rest of your food, he’ll be home soon!” He ordered “we can at least feed him before we give him the bad news…”

“Give me what bad news?” A new, cautious voice asked from the doorway.

Luke and Michael froze, staring at Calum with wide shocked eyes.

Ashton had to think fast and he threw the cloth at Luke before diving at Calum to wrap him in a hug. He somehow managed to spin their positions without raising any suspicion from the younger boy and pressed a hungry kiss to his lips before he could ask any follow up questions. When he finally pulled back Calum smiled “wow, that was quite a welcome back but…” he tried to turn back to look the other two however Ashton was relieved when Michael ran over and wrapped his free arm around the new arrival.

“We missed you daddy Cal!” He grinned cheekily, bringing Mittens up to Calum’s eye level “we need big kisses…” he pressed his pretty pale face against the cat’s fluffy black one and Ashton was almost as taken in by the cuteness of the four big green eyes as Calum obviously was.

“I missed you too kitten!” Calum grinned pecking Michael on the cheek “you too, Mittens!” He added, scratching the cat gently behind the ears. “Now where’s my big welcome home from Lukey?!” He asked, pouting in an exaggerated way before attempting to turn around again.

“He’s just finishing your welcome home meal!” Ashton answered quickly “why don’t you go and take your suitcase upstairs, Michael will help!”

Michael shot Ashton a glare before nodding enthusiastically to Calum. “So will Mittens!”

Calum smiled gratefully “okay… the food smells delicious, Luke!” He yelled over his shoulder as Michael lead him out of the room, picking up the little black suitcase by the door en-route.

Ashton sighed with relief when he noticed that Luke had cleaned up most of the soup mess. “I’ll finish that, you put the food out before they get back!”

Luke nodded and hurried over to the cupboard where they kept their regular dinner sets and pulled out four matching bowls and plates. “Do you think we’ll find a replacement?” He asked as he scooped soup into each of the bowls. “I mean there must be some on eBay or something!”

Ashton shrugged, carefully picking up the pieces of the broken china “I really hope so, he loves that stupid dinner set!” He replied sadly.

“Hey it’s not stupid!” Calum huffed, appearing as if out of nowhere for the second time in less than five minutes.

“I thought you were upstairs!” Ashton gasped, trying and failing to hide the mess in hands behind his back as he got to his feet.

Calum rolled his eyes “be carful with that!” he said “I don’t want you to cut yourself on my favourite china…”

Ashton felt his cheeks blush furiously “I’m so sorry Cal, I should never have trusted those two with cooking…” His sentence was cut short by a loud laugh and he when he summoned the courage to look up again he was stunned to find that it was coming from Calum. “I thought you’d be heartbroken!” He frowned.

Calum shook his head before pressing a soft kiss to Ashton’s forehead “I live in a house full of clumsy assholes and a cat that causes more damage than a tornado most days, do you really think I wouldn’t have brought spare bowls and plates in my favourite pattern?” He wound his arms around Ashton and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Who the hell does that!” Michael scoffed, padding into the room. “You’re the weirdest boyfriend, Cal…” he wrapped his arms around both of his cuddling boyfriends, smiling fondly as he rested his chin on Calum’s shoulder.

“I agree with Michael.” Ashton nodded, placing a little kiss to the end of Michael’s nose.

“I agree!” Luke confirmed, hurrying over to join the hug. “I’ve always said Calum’s the weirdest!” He chuckles as he threw his long arms around all three of his boyfriends.

“So you’re really not mad?” Ashton asked tentatively, pulling back a little to look Calum in the face.

“How could I ever be mad at you three idiots?” He laughed.

After a long, blissful moment Luke separated from the hug “the food’s going cold!”

The other three laughed as the huddle dispersed, each of them gravitating to their usual job during dinner time prep. With the exception of Michael who finished tidying up the broken china.

Ashton sent a final fond smile to each of his boyfriend’s before grabbing wine glasses from the cupboard.

I’m sorry this took so long, buddy! I hope you like it, I tried to incorporate some of your favourite things! 💖I also apologise for any errors!

If you have already put a request in I’m working on it I promise😁 

Masterlist