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boundinparchment · 2 years

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Of Blood and Sparks - II

Karina Alexandre of Fontaine lost her position, her family, and her Archon's favor. A dead Electro Vision is her mark of guilt. A reminder to never fail again. Faith shattered, and suspicious of the Fatui, she eventually makes her way to Liyue, where she encounters a certain funeral parlor consultant. Little does she know it's only the beginning. Original character centric; eventual Zhongli/OC. Posted originally at @chevalier-of-fontaine. ArchiveOfOurOwn || FF.net || Karina's profile

The poor training dummy received another flurry of slashes and a jab, as a sword pierced the stuffed fabric of the torso. The material gave way with ease and a soft hiss of torn fibers; nothing like fighting against an actual enemy, human or otherwise. Hay poked out when Karina pulled her blade back, her breathing heavy. Drills were meditative more than anything else. No one was barking a series of steps at her but she was never at rest long enough to feel rusty. She was up before dawn, as always, her sword never falling until her muscles ached. The sun was now finally beginning to crest over the valley hills, staining the sky with purples and pinks.

Karina wasn’t the only one with habits hard to kill, judging by the figure walking down towards her tiny accommodations on the winery’s land. They never spoke of their mutual experience in service. Or tried to. A rigid military lifestyle, however brief, left its mark on all who enlisted.

That night in the library felt so long ago. It had, in fact, been only a few weeks since Rhiannon’s book was back in her hands.

“Morning,” Karina huffed, never taking her eyes off the target.

She slashed, turned to parry, and then brought the blade down to slice through the dummy’s back. When Diluc didn’t say anything, she stepped again with a flourishing finish. It tore off the arm of the dummy and the hay-filled limb thumped to the ground.

"A letter arrived for you at the main house,” Diluc said by way of greeting.

She’d put in for a position in Liyue weeks ago. Trade was better and she could earn a more stable living. Her shop in Mondstadt did well enough but it was her work with Dawn Winery that she earned the most from. Repairing uniforms and curtains and duvets and the occasional singed jacket was easy enough but she didn’t want to stay in Mondstadt forever. The City of Freedom felt stagnant. To say nothing of recent events with Dottore demonstrating that it was too susceptible.

“Any news about Collei and Cyno?” Karina asked, breathing hard.

She grabbed her scabbard and slid the blade home before attaching the weapon to her belt.

It was hard not to think about the bandaged girl who made the trip from Sumeru to Mondstadt on foot. Scared, alone, knowing nothing but the endurance of pain. A victim snatched up from the streets and used for experiments before she had the chance to learn to write…

“The binding of the Archon residue is holding and they’re on their way back to Sumeru,” Diluc said, holding out the letter. “There’s no telling what permanent effects exist. The Akademiya is for the best.”

The wind picked up a little, a welcome breeze after the strain and sweat of a morning workout. Some would have remarked that Barbados was kind to bring wind at such a time.

An absentee Archon was as good as a dead Archon in Karina’s eyes. Why place faith in that which you could not see?

“At least she’ll be out of the hands of the Harbinger. That’s all we can ask for, I suppose,” Karina said softly.

She took the sealed envelope but didn’t open it. Instead, she gestured for Diluc to follow her and they walked towards her tiny staff cottage, where she held the door open in silent invitation.

Under different circumstances, her lack of care for the living space he graciously offered to her would have been bothersome, even embarrassing. Books were strewn about and what little laundry she had hung to dry near the fire. The cooking rig above the flames was, for now, bare; a pot and kettle sat on the stone hearth, awaiting use. She rarely had the opportunity to utilize the space to begin with as of late. There was nothing more than vague friendship between them now; his opinion of her living quarters mattered little.

“Did you eat?” Karina asked, picking through her stash of food in the tiny kitchen. “Or should I just make coffee for myself?”

“I’m fine,” Diluc replied as he wandered over to the cramped sitting area decorated with thick leather bound tomes and scribbled notes. “Aren’t some of these from Lisa’s private collection?”

“They’re some of her textbooks from the Akademiya; exchanged for a weekend of dusting and polishing the library from top to bottom.”

After all, when she wasn’t working, what else was she supposed to do? Much like the man across the tiny cottage, she wanted nothing to do with the Knights of Favonius themselves. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to make use of what resources she could, even if it meant quid pro quos.

When she finally had coffee in hand, Karina brought her attention back to the letter and opened it.

Her eyes scanned the cramped writing, which described how her working papers were a perfect match for the position. Even praise for her experiences in the military, which was often a turn-off for employers. Many expected her to be demure or soft while being knowledgeable; it would seem that the shopkeeper was thrilled to have someone capable of needlework and swordsmanship. Excellent.

Liyue was not an easy decision. While it was the closest region, it tolerated Fatui presence. Her stomach knotted itself at the thought. The recent Fatui visit in Mondstadt had been horrible enough.

“Well, it would seem I’ll be moving to Liyue sooner than expected,” she muttered, handing the letter to Diluc to look over. “I’m to be a tailor in the garment district. The pay is equal, with commission for larger projects.”

Diluc frowned, a look not far off from his usual unimpressed expression. “The region is a known Fatui ally. Or, rather, mostly associated by proxy via Northland Bank and the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Even Fatui need funerary rites, I suppose. Although the kind of rites depends on who you ask.”

The silence hung around them like a pall as he read the letter once, and then twice. Karina took tentative sips of the scalding caffeine all the while, the liquid as bitter as she felt.

Anxiety rippled through her at the thought; Liyue was its own land but the region was known for commerce, with the largest branch of Northland Bank overlooking the sea. She put off the consideration when applying; it was a bridge to cross when she got there. But now that she stood on its edge…

Living in one of the major cities the Fatui had a foothold in was the last thing she needed. To say nothing of living in one of the most devout regions in Teyvat when she no longer held favor with her own Archon. Mondstadt was…well, Mondstadt; hardly anyone batted an eye if they saw her dead Vision. But Liyue? The land of contracts? A different story, to be sure.

“I can accompany you, if you’d like,” Diluc said, letting the paper gently fall onto the small table between them. “I have business in Liyue anyway. Two weeks would give us enough time to reach the lab and take care of other business before you take on the new position.”

He hadn't mentioned having any business the last time they spoke about a possible trip. How utterly convenient.

Karina raised a doubtful eyebrow and he elaborated, “Someone is trying to mimic our signature Dandelion Wine. I need to shut that down immediately before we get market competition with a lesser-quality product.”

With a skeptical look behind him towards her pathetic collection of clothing, he continued.

“And you’ll need more appropriate clothes for such work. A dress, for one.”

Her pride felt pinched, like a child’s cheek around a doting aunt. She worked hard to repair her clothing as needed. It was one of the few things she could still do that didn’t make her parents roll in their premature graves.

“Nothing is torn or ripped.”

“You and I both know there are expectations with this job since you’ll be facing the public. Looking the part is always half of the battle. It’s something to take care of in Liyue; there’s little point in carrying all of it with you.”

Karina held back a biting remark that her wardrobe was sparse for the sake of blending in. Not that he would necessarily understand; red hair wasn’t easy to forget.

Neither were smoldering crimson eyes staring back at her.

She broke her gaze away first, throwing back the rest of her coffee in favor of forgetting other memories, other moments, of heavy gazes and tangled limbs. Diluc took his leave with a quiet word of parting, looking everywhere but at her.

A few hours later, her map was carefully marked out with their journey. Lisa’s books were packed up and given to servants to return on her behalf. They would leave tonight, once Diluc finalized his own affairs; his businesses were well managed but they were hardly self-sufficient.

At least they would get to explore what little was left of the lab.

Karina dropped her pack near the fireplace in the main house after locking up the cottage, the fire throwing flickering shadows around the room. She unhooked the heavy Vision at her belt and sat down near the hearth, holding the stone close to the light. If she looked hard enough, she could make out the Electro emblem and a subtle hint of purple in the darkened stone. She pulled a polishing cloth from a tiny pocket of her backpack and began on the setting, rubbing the imbued cloth against the metal.

Years ago, she would have had badges and medals to polish too.

But all she had now was the dead God’s Eye and the buttons on her jacket.

The latter weren’t too important at the moment.

The silver swirls and filigree easily collected dirt and dust; they were the worst of the entire piece. It hardly mattered, she supposed. Polishing the Vision was a habit she would never be rid of, much like patching her clothes, rising early to do drills. A ritual that kept her at peace.

If she was going to delve into the madness Il Dottore left behind and spend time surrounded by Fatui, she was going to need what little peace she could get.

#verse: of blood and sparks #genshin impact oc #genshin impact original character #fanfiction #fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin oc #OC: Karina Alexandre #have some edits while I work on DALDOM #one of these will keep me sane and the other will drive me up a wall guess which is which lmao

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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years

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Never Put Off Until Tomorrow

Prompts: Chores and Video Games

Word Count: 4,850

Characters: The squad + Pixal

Timeline: between seasons 11 and 12

Trigger Warnings: None

Summary: …what can be done today, yada, yada, yada, we all know the saying. So do the ninja- when Master Wu is drilling it into their heads every minute of every day, it’s kind of hard to forget.

Naturally, it only takes them a week (and the biggest new video game in Ninjago) to do so.

Read on FFN.net

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“Get that gun out of his hand! Without it, he’ll be defenseless and we can take him down easily!” “I’m trying, Jay!” Lloyd said through gritted teeth. “One wrong move and he’ll get me with that thing!”

“Use your powers!” Jay raised his sword and dove at the enemy, forcing him to turn and face him. As their swords clashed with a loud clang of metal, Jay quickly pulled back as Lloyd shot a blast of power at the attacker, who promptly collapsed to the ground.

“Alright! Way to go, green ma- look out!”

Lloyd shrieked as someone suddenly jumped on him from behind, skewering a sword through his skull. The green ninja fell to the ground and vanished in a puff of smoke.

The ninja blinked at the scene before them, speechless.

Jay suddenly let out a whoop, leaning over to high-five Kai. “Way to go, bro! You’re so good at this game!” “He came out of nowhere,” Lloyd huffed, tossing his control to the ground. “He didn’t even give me a chance to fight back.”

Kai reclined, putting his hands behind his head. “Work smarter, not harder, green machine.”

Lloyd scowled, and Nya shot him a sympathetic glance. “Hey, Lloyd, you lasted a whole ten minutes longer than last time! You’ve drastically improved.”

“Don’t feel bad,” Kai winked. “Even Jay couldn’t beat me, I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Cole shook his head. “Dude, you’re unchecked! We’ve only had this game for a week and already, you’re insane. Let’s just say I’m very glad you’re on our team.”

“I’ll say,” Zane agreed. “The Critical Conquest Gaming Tournament is going to have some of the best gamers in Ninjago. You’re good, Kai- we all are- but we all need to be at the top of our game if we want a chance at winning.”

“We got this, guys,” Nya assured. “We’ve fought off serpentine, ghosts, the Overlord, Oni- winning a city-wide video game tournament should be a piece of cake.”

“Speaking of cake-”

“No cake,” Jay snapped at Cole. “Not until we’ve won this thing. I need you to practice.”

“Dude, chill, I’ve been practicing!”

“Then can you show me your double twist dash-melee maneuver?”

Cole blinked at him. “My what?”

“That’s what I thought. Here, let me show you. We’ll try until you’ve got it down.”

“Who put you in charge?”

“You did. Literally. You guys chose me to be the team captain for the competition.”

“Whatever.”

“Lloyd, come here, so he has someone to practice on.”

“Why me?” “Because you need to work on your stealth. Kai got that jump on you surprisingly easily. You’re a good fighter, Lloyd, but fighting doesn’t matter if your enemy kills you before you have the chance. Practice your stealth and dodging on Cole.”

“Ready to get your butt kicked, bud?” Cole reached his hands out, cracking his knuckles before picking up the controller.

“Ha! You wish. The only one who will be getting their butt kicked is-”

The sharp rapping of something against the floor interrupted him, and they turned to see Master Wu standing behind them, his gaze disapproving as he clutched his staff firmly in hand.

“Students, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Uhh, practicing for the Critical Conquest tournament?” Nya said. “I thought that was pretty obvious!”

Wu glared at her. “I know what you’re doing. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut all this short. The six of you have many chores to do.”

“Chores?” they cried in unison.

“The past week since you bought that game, you have done nothing but sit around on that couch and play it. In all that time, your chores have piled up. Now, I’m cutting you off. They need to be done, now.”

“But Master!” Jay pleaded. “The tournament starts in only a few hours!”

Master Wu smirked. “Well, I guess you better be fast, then.”

---

The ninja stared down at the alarmingly long list Master Wu had given them, no one speaking a word for nearly a solid minute.

“Why,” Kai groaned, “did we ever put all of these off?”

“Why didn’t Master Wu just let us wait one more day to do the chores?” Jay complained. “The tournament would be all over then!”

“Well, he didn’t,” Cole said. “So there’s no use in complaining. We might as well get started.”

“Alright, guys, if we’re going to get through all of this before the tournament starts, we’re gonna have to divide and conquer,” Nya said. “Let’s see. Zane, Lloyd, you guys take the kitchen. Jay, Cole, you can check the vehicles to make sure they’re operating properly- wait, scratch that, Cole doesn’t know shit about mechanics. Besides, putting you two alone together is never a good idea.”

“Hey!”

“Zane, you go with Jay on the machines. Cole, you’re with Lloyd. Kai and I will work outside on raking and fixing the training course.”

“Hey, no fair, you just gave yourself the easiest job!” Cole grumbled.

“I’ll inform you that raking leaves is very mundane!”

“Yeah!” Kai snapped. “Especially when it’s cold out like this. I’m gonna freeze my fingers off!”

“You’re the fire ninja, you’ll figure something out,” Nya snapped. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Hey, Cole? You think this is so easy? We can trade places! You wanna trade places?”

“Actually, I’ve decided to be nice and let you take this one.”

Kai glared at him. “You’re only saying that because you know I hate it!” Cole leaned back against the table, smirking. “Maybe.”

“Come on, Kai, we’re going.” Nya grabbed his hand and yanked him out the door.

“I guess we better get working,” Cole sighed. “Jay, Zane, you guys need a copy of your tasks?” Zane shook his head. “I’ve got the list committed to memory. And there’s a lot to do, so we better go.”

As they left the room, Cole turned to Lloyd. “Put a check mark or something by the things the others are doing, so we can see what’s left for us.”

Lloyd made little marks next to the tasks, his pencil slowing as it reached the end. His frown deepened. “I swear, this list is getting longer. Some of these are just ridiculous! Polish the counters? Clean out the oven? Dust the tops of the cabinets? Who does these things?”

“Normal people, Lloyd. It’s not my fault that we’re so busy saving the city that you’ve never done anything more than the most basic chores in your life.”

“I’ve done chores!” “Darkley’s doesn’t count, bud. I bet the only thing you did there was clean spiders out of your bed.”

“They were fire ants,” Lloyd grumbled.

Cole turned on him with wide eyes. “What?”

Lloyd stiffened, suddenly seeming to realize what he had just said. “Uh… I mean… don’t tell Kai, okay?”

Cole stared at him for a moment, before sighing. “I’ll let it go, this once. But only because you’ve had a lot worse things than fire ants since then. Those kids are jerks, though.”

“I know.”

“... They really did that?”

“Yes, Cole! Do I need to show the scars to prove it?”

“No! I was just- you know what, forget I even said anything. Let’s get to work. First up, doing the dishes.” They turned towards the sink, where dozens of dirty plates and cups had accumulated.

“Seriously? Doesn’t anyone ever clean off their dishes after eating?”

Cole shot him a look. “Name one time you did that.”

“Okay, so never, but we’re ninja, not dishwashers! What do you expect?”

“Never put off until tomorrow what can be done today, Lloyd.”

Lloyd groaned. “I can’t believe I’m missing Critical Conquest for this.”

---

“Jay! You’re supposed to be repairing the sentry cannons on the Land Bounty!” “Chill out, Zane, I’ll get to it in a minute-”

Zane suddenly snatched the remote control out of his hand. “Jay! We’re never going to finish in time for the tournament if you don’t focus! Stop playing with toys!” “It’s not a toy!” He gestured towards the small remote-controlled robot. “This thing is going to be a major distraction! It could make it or break it for us in battle!”

Zane eyed the robot skeptically. “This. Distract our enemies?”

“Well, I was going to make it into a smoke bomb, but someone kept pestering me!” “Look, Jay, this isn’t the time to work on your inventions. You can do that later. Right now, you need to fix the sentries.”

“I already looked at the sentries,” he whined. “They were completely fried in our last adventure. I have to rewire the whole thing.”

Zane blinked at him. “Isn’t… that kind of your job?”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard work! I don’t want to do it! I’ll take any other chore on your list.”

“Well, someone needs to do it, and you’re the only one who knows how.”

“Not true! Why don’t you ask Pixal?”

He gestured towards the nindriod, who was tinkering with what appeared to be a small metal box.

“Pixal,” he called, walking over to her, “do you know how to rewire the sentries?” “Yes, but I know for a fact that Jay does, too. I’m not doing it for you.”

“Aww, come on, Pix,” Jay groaned. “Why don’t you have to do anything while the rest of us are all working our butts off?”

She glanced wryly at Jay’s little robot, who was waving cheerfully at her. “I wouldn’t exactly call it that. But I’m not helping because I already did all my chores while the rest of you were playing video games.”

Jay went pink in the face, and even Zane felt himself avoiding Pixal’s gaze.

“Critical Conquest is very important,” Jay muttered.

“More important than making sure all our weapons are operational? Or restocking the medbay?”

“We can do those things any time! The competition is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

“Actually, there is another one next month-”

“Shut up, Zane. With our luck, we’ll probably be fighting evil nindroids or will be locked inside a different realm by that point, anyway.”

“I’m not helping you,” Pixal sniffed. “So I don’t know why you’re still here.”

Not taking Pixal’s… not-so-subtle hints, Jay leaned in towards her. “Whatcha workin’ on?”

Pixal eyed him warily. “... It’s a jetpack. I wanted to make something more compact in case I was in a situation where I couldn’t use the Samurai X suit.”

“That’s cool! Although, it might work better if you recalibrated the engines to-”

“Jay,” Pixal said sharply. “I know what I’m doing. Please go work on your chores.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “No one ever lets me have any fun.”

Zane shook his head, wandering over to the Earth Driller where he was working on replacing the paneling that had been damaged in the Oni incident.

He couldn’t have been doing so for more than fifteen minutes when the sound of a small explosion interrupted him.

Zane jerked to his feet, dashing over to where the sound had come from.

Jay had jumped back from Pixal’s jetpack, which was now black and smoking.

Of course it was.

“What happened?”

Jay scratched his head nervously. “Well, you see… I really didn’t want to work on those sentries, so when I noticed Pixal stepping out of the room for a moment…”

Zane sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you alright?”

Jay grinned. “Right as rain. Not even a scar like last time!”

“Okay, that’s good, now I feel less bad for saying this- what were you thinking?”

“I couldn’t help myself, Zane! She calibrated it all wrong!”

“Well, evidently, you were the one who did it wrong, seeing as it exploded within five minutes of you getting your hands on it.”

Jay jumped nearly a foot in the air. “Pixal! You’re back! Ah… um, I’m really sorry about your jetpack, I was only trying to…”

Pixal marched forward, snatching it off the floor. “It doesn’t matter, it’s done now.”

“I can fix it-”

“You’ve done quite enough,” Pixal snapped. “Why don’t you just go finish your chores now?”

“But-”

Pixal held up the burnt jetpack, shaking it lightly. “You owe me.”

“Fine,” Jay groaned. “I’ll rewire the stupid sentries.”

---

“If I have to rake one more pile of leaves, something is going to end up on fire.”

“Well, luckily for you, that was the last of them.” Nya set down her rake, rubbing her hands together. “Now we just have to dispose of the leaf bags.”

She and Kai glanced over towards the towering pile of leaf bags, and Kai groaned.

“It’s going to take forever to throw these all away!”

“Kai, the dumpster is just on the other side of the Monastery wall!”

“Yeah, but we can only carry a few bags at a time, and we’re going to have to make so many trips!”

“Well, unless you’ve got a better idea, we don’t have a choice.”

Kai paused, his eyes lighting up. “Wait-”

“No, Kai, we are not burning the leaves.”

“I wasn’t going to say that! Although… it’s not a half-bad idea…”

“Kai!” “Okay, okay, no burning! What I was going to say was, why don’t we just toss the bags over the wall and into the dumpster?”

Nya frowned. “We’d miss half of them and then have to go over there anyway and pick them all up.”

“No, we could do it like in Critical Conquest! Remember? The ground-bash move? This is just like that!”

“Kai, that’s just a video game. This is real life!” “Yeah, but wouldn’t it still work?”

Nya frowned, stepping forward and eyeing up the roof of the Monastery. “I suppose if we got the right angle… we’d have to make sure an ample amount of newtons were applied with each hit to reach the correct velocity… and of course we’d have to take into consideration factors like density and wind acceleration per second and its tendency to carry-”

“Okay, okay, enough with your science-y nerd stuff!”

“It’s just basic physics, Kai. I mean, there are a lot of external factors to consider that wouldn’t be present in a lab setting, although I still think it would be quite simple-”

“Would it work or not?” Kai interrupted. “Yes or no, I want a one-word answer.”

“Yes. We just need to get the proper positioning-”

“Can I be the one bashing the bags?”

Nya sighed. “Only if you do exactly as I tell you-”

“Whoooooo!” Kai cried, running off to grab the rake as he swung it around fiercely. “Who’s ready to bash some leaf bags?”

“Kai! I said to do exactly as I say-”

---

Despite Nya’s initial trepidations, the process did not end up being a total disaster, and they actually ended up getting the chore done decently quickly. Now all they had left to do was to test and recalibrate the training course.

Nya glanced down at her watch. Only an hour and a half until the tournament started. Her chances of getting extra practice on those tricky combos were looking slimmer by the second. Hopefully, Kai’s mastery of the game, Jay’s high skill levels, and Cole’s advanced items and power-ups would be enough to help them beat-

“Nya!” Kai shrieked. “I said, turn it off!”

Nya snapped out of her thoughts, glancing up at her brother, who had been knocked to the ground by a whirring training dummy. “Oh, shit!” She spun towards the controls and shut them down, jogging over to Kai. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so, I just-” Kai reached for her extended hand, pulling back with a sharp cry as they made contact.

“What?” “My hand,” he grimaced. “It hurts like hell.”

---

“You can’t throw out the Eggo Waffles!” Lloyd insisted, grabbing at the box in Cole’s hands

“Lloyd, they expired three days ago.”

“So what, they’re still edible.”

“They’re going.” Cole gave the box a strong tug, jerking it out of Lloyd’s hands and dropping it in the garbage. Lloyd huffed, crossing his arms.

“Kai would’ve let me keep them.”

“No, he wouldn’t have, because he doesn’t want you to get food poisoning.”

Lloyd paused for a moment, before amending, “Jay would’ve let me keep them.”

Cole sighed. “Yeah, and then you guys would’ve eaten them, and we would’ve ended up with two sick ninja.”

“I wouldn’t get sick! I have these super cool powers that protect me-”

“We don’t have any proof of that. We still don’t know exactly what your powers do.”

“Which means we can’t rule that out yet!”

Cole rubbed his head. “Out of all the people I could’ve gotten stuck cleaning out the freezer with… it had to be you. The one who gets emotionally attached to frozen waffles.”

“I am not emotionally attached-”

“Are you kidding me? He can’t play with this on! This thing is stiff, it seriously restricts his movement!” “It’s not a question, Jay, he needs to keep it on!”

“Is it actually that bad, though? Couldn’t he skip it for one game?”

“Not unless you want it to get worse!” Cole and Lloyd exchanged a glance and stepped out into the hallway, where the other four ninja were gathered.

“What’s going on?”

Zane opened his mouth to speak. “There was-”

“Kai!” Lloyd interrupted suddenly, darting over to him. “What happened to your hand?”

Cole blinked, realizing for the first time that Kai had a swathe of bandages wrapped around his hand.

Kai yelped in pain as Lloyd touched it, and the green ninja recoiled, his eyes widening in guilt. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!”

Nya rolled her eyes. “Don’t apologize, Lloyd, he’s fine. He’s just being a big baby about all of this.”

“Am not. It hurts!”

Zane stifled a sigh. “Kai, it is only a bad pulled muscle. Apart from being painful and needing plenty of rest, it’s nothing serious.”

“Well, you don’t know what it feels like,” Kai snapped. “It’s a lot worse than ‘nothing serious.’”

“I scanned you. I am quite certain my diagnosis is correct.”

Nya snickered, and Kai shot her a look. “Shut up, you. You’re the one who did this to me.”

“You’re the one who wasn’t paying attention!” “Yeah, well, you’re the one who was supposed to be-”

“Guys!” Jay cried. “Can’t you see we have more pressing matters at hand? Severe injury or not, Kai can’t play Critical Conquest like this. And he’s our best player!”

“Alright,” Lloyd said. “So we don’t have our best player anymore. That’s bad. But Jay’s still a beast! And Cole, and Nya, and everyone except me, basically-”

“He could be the worst player in all of existence and it still wouldn’t matter,” Cole pointed out. “We need six players to compete or they will disqualify us.”

“But if Kai can’t play, we have no one else! There are no backups!” Nya huffed, turning on Jay. “You’re our team captain! Why didn’t you prepare any backups?”

“Because we know no one else! We live in an isolated monastery at the top of the tallest mountain for miles, what did you expect? Besides, I wasn’t anticipating this to happen!” Zane frowned. “Well, if Kai can’t play, and we have no backup, then our only choice is to drop out-”

“Wait!” Jay cried suddenly. “I think I might have an idea of someone.”

---

“Please please please please-”

Pixal raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you really think begging is going to change my mind?”

“Please, Pixal, we need a sixth player, and you’re the only person I can think of!”

“Why would I help you after you blew up my jetpack?” Kai gaped at him. “You what?”

Jay fought back the heat spreading across his face. “That’s not important right now! Pixal, I promise I’ll fix it, just please compete with us!”

Pixal frowned at him, which wasn’t the most reassuring answer.

“C’mon Pix- I’ll do anything.”

“I don’t know, Jay-”

“We’ll do all your chores for the next month.”

“What?” “We will?”

“Jay, what the heck! We never agreed to that!”

Pixal smiled at him. “I would’ve accepted it if you offered a week, but that’s very generous of you.”

The others shot him smoldering glares, and Jay groaned. “It doesn’t matter, we don’t have time for this.” Glancing down at his phone, he sucked in his breath. “We’ve only got an hour until the tournament! Zane, can you teach Pixal how to play?”

Zane blinked at him. “In an hour?”

“Just cover the basics. We don’t have time for perfection. Just teach her as much as you can before the tournament starts.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as they were out of the room, Jay wheeled around, moaning. “We are so hooped! She doesn’t know how to play! Kai, how could you be careless enough to injure yourself?”

“Oh, sure, blame the victim!” Kai snapped. “Would it kill you to show a little sympathy to your injured teammate?”

“You pulled a muscle, you baby!” Nya groaned. “Pixal’s a fast learner, hopefully, she’ll get the hang of it.”

“Fast learner or not, nothing can beat hours of experience,” Lloyd said. “Let’s just hope the other contestants aren’t as good.”

---

“These dudes are insane!”

Jay continued to scroll through the queued-up players, examining their stats, his jaw dropping. “How much have these people been grinding?”

“So much for an easy win,” Lloyd grumbled.

Zane and Pixal walked into the room, holding their controllers. “I think I’ve done everything I can with Pixal. The competition starts in five minutes, I suggest we get ready.”

“Alright.” Jay turned towards Pixal as Zane worked on setting up the game. “We’re going to need your help, but since you don’t have experience, I think the best move is to have you stay behind us and play defense.”

Pixal smirked. “I’ll do my best.”

“Guys, we have to queue up!” “Are the headsets working?”

“They’re ready, what about the controllers? All charged?”

“We really shouldn’t be checking these kinds of things literally three minutes before the tournament, but yes, they are.”

“Hurry, guys! It’s about to start!”

Zane blinked at the screen. “Jay… you named our team the Fast Chickens?”

“It’s a good name!” The others groaned, and Jay glared at them. “We’ll see who’s complaining when we win this thing!”

Jay fidgeted through most of the opening speeches from the hosts of the competition as they went over rules and procedures. And, after what simultaneously felt like both a million years later and only the blink of an eye, the game was finally starting. They got lucky with their spawn point, and after a few minutes, were able to collect some good resources and get a good start. Cole, Zane, and Nya were able to take down some of the weaker groups before they collected supplies while Jay and the others continued collecting and building up defenses.

Checking the score count, he could see there were already twenty teams down in various parts of the map, and he knew his team had been responsible for felling three of them. Jay couldn’t stop himself from smiling. It seemed like nothing could be going better.

That is, until they suffered a major blow on the southwestern flank of their territory against a high-level team- the CrownViolets, they called themselves. (Which was nowhere near as cool sounding as the Fast Chickens, Jay totally wasn’t insecure about that at all.) After a fierce fight that ended up costing them several lives- and robbing Zane of his last, taking him out of the game- they realized they couldn’t win this fight and backed down, sacrificing a sizeable chunk of their turf.

While still monitoring that boundary, they decided to primarily focus on expanding in the other direction. Their tactic seemed to be working well, and although the CrownViolets kept on encroaching on them from the boundary, the other teams weren’t backing down, and although none managed to defeat the rival team, they were certainly taking their tolls on them. Jay hoped that the other teams would eventually take the Violets out for them, although he had to admit that would be extremely lucky.

They were getting down to the last few teams in the tournament. When the top ten were remaining, special, more deadly weapons were hidden around, and with them, teams began to fight back harder. The Fast Chickens held their own, but by the time they were down to two teams remaining- them and the CrownViolets- both Jay and Lloyd had been killed and eliminated. Only Cole, Nya, and Pixal remained. The CrownViolets still had four players left, but they were weak. If the ninja were strategic enough, they could still win this.

But Pixal was a major hindrance. She had been plenty good at holding back and defending them, but now, with so few left, she was going to have to start playing a more active role. If only Kai had still been there.

“Alright, they’re somewhere around here.” Nya’s character pulled up her radar. “There seems to be two of them right up ahead-”

“Alright, Pixal.” Jay leaned over her shoulder, coaching her. “You’re going to have to start getting offensive. Nya says there’s only two, so there shouldn’t be a problem, but there could be an ambush, or these two could have higher health. We don’t want to take any chances. While Nya and Cole rush them, you should stay back and shoot at them with your launchers. Your character has good accuracy scores.”

There was a flash of purple, and muffled shouting, and Nya froze. “There they are! Let’s get them, guys!”

The three plunged into the fight, and although it was a tough battle, their opponents were relatively low on health, and they ended up eliminating the two CrownViolets- unfortunately, with the loss of Nya before doing so.

“It’s just the two of us left, Pixal,” Cole said, “but there’s also only two of them, as well. We can do this. Just stick close to me. They’re around here somewhere.”

“And that somewhere is here!” Pixal shrieked suddenly, whirling around.

Cole’s eyes widened. “One of their teammates must’ve sent out a distress signal before they died!” He grappled for his weapon, but in his haste, his grip was sloppy.

Pixal, however, barely hesitated, diving at their opponent and attacking in a flurry of blows. Jay’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as she performed a complex combo it had taken him a full day to learn.

Zane smiled at all their gaping mouths. “I told you to have faith in her.”

Cole was evidently shocked too, and within a few moments, he was dead- although not before delivering a nearly fatal blow to his opponent. Pixal quickly finished him off before turning to face the last remaining player.

“Be careful, Pix,” Jay warned. “She still has pretty high health. Don’t get cocky, or take dumb risks.”

“Dumb risks are your thing,” Pixal corrected, not even batting an eye as she darted past her opponent, slashing her with her sword.

The CrownViolet wasn’t giving up, though. She pushed back, throwing down a smoke bomb and suddenly pushing Pixal down from behind. Pixal rolled out of the way, missing her sword by inches, and sprung up, taking the moment of surprise to her advantage to knock her opponent down. As the rival started crawling away, Pixal’s character took a potion, powering up a special move. The opponent knocked her down as she was waiting to power up, but before she could get a good attack in, Pixal was ready and was blasting her a beam of light.

The girl’s avatar fell to the ground, dead.

There was a beat of silence, then their living room erupted in cheers.

“Pixal! You did it! You won the game for us!”

“I can’t believe it! We actually won! Without Kai!”

“Hey,” Kai yelped. “That didn’t sound like it was meant to be a compliment.”

“What do you mean,” Lloyd said. “That was totally a super nice thing I just said about you.”

Kai narrowed his eyes. “A bit backhanded, don’t you think?”

“Guys, none of that is important!” Cole cried. “We won! Out of all the gamers in the city! We actually won!”

“But I have to know,” Jay insisted. “How did you get so good at the game?”

Pixal shrugged. “I guess you pick up a thing or two watching your team play a game obsessively for the past week.”

Jay blinked. “You’ve been watching us?”

She scowled. “I’ve been doing the chores in here, lightning brain! Repairs, laundry, picking up after you- you’ve just been too obsessed by your game to even notice me!”

“Oh, really? Uh, that’s my bad…”

“Speaking of which, you promised to do my chores, and I’m looking forward to a nice, relaxing evening off.”

“Did I?” Jay laughed nervously. “Hey, did I ever mention that the tournament winners get a cash prize-”

Pixal handed him a mop. “Nice try. Although I still expect my fair share of the earnings by the end of the week. Good luck.” The ninja just gazed at her in horror, and she laughed.

“You’re going to need it.”

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onlyfreds · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2 - Hard to Hide | TRP

Summary: As the stress of the coronation increases with every passing day, the secret itself becomes hard to hide.

Warning/s: Mentions of food, mentions of eloping

Series Masterlist

I sighed, leaning by the porch of the Burrow, reading the paper my sister sent me under the rising sun.

The press never seem to miss anything, the headlines read: Coronation of First-Born Princess to be Held Soon.

And that was the last thing I needed.

To add to my annoyance, the article kept on stating how excited and happy I am to be crowned when they didn’t even interview me and got my thoughts about the matter.

As if mum and dad would let them interview me anyway.

I threw the paper to the side in disgust, but as I heard footsteps approaching the spot where I sat, I hid it away from view as best as I can.

“What’cha doing here darling?” Fred asked, pressing a kiss to my temple as he sat down beside me.

I gave him a small smile, “Just watching the sunrise.”

He dramatically gasped, feigning offense as he said, “You’re watching the sunrise without me? How could you do such a thing Y/N?”

I laughed at his theatrics, “You’re always so overdramatic, aren’t you?”

He smiled, putting an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him, “But, honestly sweetheart, you seem stressed about something for the past few days. Is there something wrong? Is there anything I could do to help?”

I chuckled, “Don’t need to worry Freddie. Everything’s absolutely fine, like I said, nothing to worry about.”

He raised a brow, “Are you sure sweetheart? You know you can tell me anything.”

I nodded, resting a hand on his chest, “Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know when I have a problem.”

“Oi Lovebirds!” George’s head poked out from the window, “It’s time for breakfast! The cuddling can wait later!”

Fred groaned, muttering something about wrong timing as we headed back into the Burrow hand in hand.

Snapping my book closed in frustration, not being able to keep the article from occupying my thoughts.

I stood up, walking over to the desk in Ginny’s room and writing a letter in response to my sister’s.

Someone knocked tentatively on the door. “Come in!” I said, sealing up the letter and tying it to Hedwig’s leg as he flew off to the palace.

“Hey Y/N!” Hermione greeted as she entered the room, “Ginny and I were going out for some ice cream, do you wanna come?”

I smiled, “I thought you’d never ask.”

We walked through the alleys of the muggle town near the Burrow, chatting happily with our ice cream in hand, looking around a bit at the stores.

That was until, Hermione and I dragged Ginny to the bookstore.

“Why do I need to supervise the two of you?” She asked, “Y/N is practically of age and Hermione, you’re the most mature and most level-headed person in your year.”

Hermione and I exchanged a look, “Well Ginny,” I started to explain, “we’re in a bookstore.”

“And if you leave us unsupervised in a bookstore, chances are, Y/N and I would be going back carrying stacks upon stacks of books. So, unless you want that to happen, you have to supervise us.” Hermione finished.

Ginny playfully rolled her eyes at us, sporting a small grin, “Fine. Fine. Now, run along before I regret my decision.”

So, thanks to the redhead supervising us, we only came home with four books each.

Dinner had just finished, most of us were gathered around in the living room while Molly had started knitting and Arthur was tinkering with a muggle radio in their shed.

I leaned against my boyfriend’s chest as he threaded his fingers through my hair. George was busy writing a letter to Angelina, the trio and Ginny were settled near the fireplace, talking about Merlin knows what.

I inhaled the familiar firework powder and cinnamon scent of my boyfriend as he had me wrapped in the warmth of his embrace.

I felt like I was being lulled into a state of comfort and peace as I traced random patterns along his arm.

“Freddie?” I asked quietly, looking up at him.

His eyes softened by the light of the fireplace, even though he was looking down at me with worry and concern, I couldn’t help but adore the man looking down at me as the soft glow of the fire seemed to compliment his features.

“Darling?” Fred’s voice quietly rang through the air, snapping me out of my daze, “Are you alright?”

I licked my lips, “I can tell you anything, right?”

He nodded, furrowing his brows a bit, “Of course, and if it’s something that’s bothering you, then I’ll do what I can to help.”

I gave him a grateful smile, “Can we talk somewhere private? I don’t want anyone else to hear about it.”

He nodded before standing up, pulling me up with him as he wrapped an arm around my waist.

“The missus and I will be retreating upstairs.” He said with a cheeky smile, ducking when Molly threw the dish towel at him when he said the name missus. “So, do not disturb and good night everyone!” He added as we retreated upstairs.

“Use protection!” George called after having Molly smack him at the back of the head.

As soon as we entered his room, Fred shut the door behind him and sat down on the edge of the bed, patting his lap.

I sat down in his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck as I was engulfed back into the warmth of his embrace.

“What did you want to tell me?” He asked.

“Well, remember me being the first-born princess and someday I have to be crowned as Queen?” I said.

He nodded, staying silent.

“That day, might be coming sooner than I thought.” I said.

He gave me a confused look, “What do you mean?”

I got off his lap, walking over to my trunk as I took out the paper my sister had sent to me earlier and handed it to Fred.

His eyes scanned over the headlines, then to the article underneath it. Even if he stayed silent, by the way his jaw clenched, I knew he was furious.

“How could they say this rubbish about you?” He said in frustration, throwing the paper behind him, “They talk about your happiness as if they know you. Then they say about whether or not you’re fit to be Queen.”

He then harshly grabbed the paper, “And get a load of this, ‘in an interview with the chief of staff of the palace, he states that, “The Princess has been trained to manage Montenaro ever since she was five. She may not be present at the moment, but we assure you that she will not turn her back on her responsibilities to the kingdom. Though she may have made some friends at the boarding school she attends, she will not let their influences get in the way of what she’s truly destined for.’”

He stood up, running his hand through his hair in frustration, “How could he speak like that about you? Like he knows what you want?”

I stepped forward wrapping my arms around his torso as he held onto me tightly, “And your coronation is happening in three weeks?! You just turned seventeen and they’re already expecting you to rule over a kingdom!”

I bit my lip, “According to the law of Montenaro, seventeen is legally an adult. I don’t know why my parents want to get crowned this early, but I’m actually having some doubts about it.”

“What do you mean by doubts?” Fred asked, resting his chin on the top of my head.

I hummed, breathing in his scent to calm myself down, “My parents have drilled into my head that being Queen is always what I was meant to be. But, deep down in my heart, I know that, it’s not what I want.”

“Then why don’t you tell them?”

I sighed, “If only it was that easy Freddie. Unlike your parents, mine never listen to me or what I have to say.”

“And if I, by any chance, I go against their wishes, the worst-case scenario is I would be disowned. I’m already a disappointment to them, so, why make it worse.”

“Hey.” Fred said gently, placing a finger under my chin and lifting my head up, “You’re not a disappointment, any parent would be lucky to have you as their daughter. If your family is too daft to realize that, then it’s their loss.”

He pressed a brief kiss on my lips, “I’ll support you in whatever path you choose. And if your parents don’t approve of our relationship, then, we’ll run off, elope and then shove our marriage certificate in front of their faces if they even try to put you in an arranged marriage. Nothing’s stopping us.”

I laughed, “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

He smiled, “No matter what you choose, I’ll always be here for you.”

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lumosandnoxwriting @wand3ringr0s3 @famdomhideout @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff @pandaxnienke @escapingrealitybyreading @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @lunylovelovegood @thefallengodesse (Send in a Message/Ask if you want to be added)

𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@dobbys-leftsock @freddiemylovelg @georgeweasleyswhre @gostupid-godumb @robinisfreddieshoe @potters-heart @evieevergreen @fandomscombine @messagesinthesky @the-romanian-is-bae @thefallengodesse

#fredweasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fredweasleyimagines #fred weasley fluff #fredweasleyfanfic #fredweasleysmut #fred weasley angst #fredweasleyoneshots #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley series #royal!au

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poptod · 3 years

Text

The Breeding Kings, pt. 21

Description: The Hanging Gardens of Babel

Notes: there is an innate human need to be remembered for both accomplishments and person; for those thousands of years from now to look back and know that people have always been human. WC: 6.9k

He'd trained before, but this was different.

For one, he didn't usually have an audience, and second, he didn't usually have to respect his teacher, either. Tall buildings and their shadows that once surrounded them were now turned to dead gardens outside the manor of his employment, acting as a 'private' circle of study surrounded by the half-wall around the property.

He panted as he lifted himself to his feet, taking up his staff once more. The trainer was the head guard, Urtak, a man who Ahk was pretty sure did not like him, and who did nothing to try and negate that belief. Sometimes Ahk would complain about this to you and you'd try to comfort him, but now you just laughed whenever the guard knocked him to his back.

"Come now, Aganu," Urtak said, pacing and slamming the end of his staff against the hard ground, crackling into the dry earth. "Can't expect to protect Ukani's home and guests with this technique."

"I do not speak Akkadian," Ahk repeated for the fourth time that day, grunting as he jumped up again.

"He is saying you are a pussy!!" You yelled in Egyptian from the servant's quarters' roof.

"Thank you, Yogi," Ahk called sarcastically, a bitter smile on his face.

Ahk cast one annoyed glance in your direction before Urtak's staff was hooking behind his knee again, forcing him to the ground, again. His hands were scratched, red, and dry, irritated further by the rough ground and spiky plants below him. He took a deep breath––or as deep a breath as he could in the dust cloud––and took up his spear once more, facing Urtak with a malice lacing his parted lips. Years spent training would aid him now, but he drew a blank on how to approach his opponent.

Urtak's staff came whizzing down from above, aiming directly for his skull. Instinctively, Ahk whipped his own spear up, dislocating the staff's projectory. The guard tried a couple more times, coming down upon his midsection or legs in hopes of knocking Ahkmen back down to the ground. This time he blocked––though, it did take him a few more moves before he realized he could now parry in return.

Before attempting to strike at his side in any way, or to knock his balance off kilter, he stabbed the blunt end of his staff into Urtak's stomach, punching the breath out of him.

A distant 'WHOOO!' came from behind him and he laughed, glancing to you in time to see your grin and a lute swinging about in your hand. It gave ample distraction that led to Urtak taking revenge in an unconventional manner when it came to staff fights; he punched him in the face.

Ahkmen groaned loudly as he stumbled back, still on his feet but with his hands covering his nose and mouth. Something warm was dripping from his nose, and as he pulled his hands away he found blood, coating his skin in thick drops.

"Aaaaaand," your lute began to play a joyous little tune as you sang, "he get fuck in the face!"

"Those aren't even words!" Ahk yelled back through his laughter.

"Pay attention," Urtak said stiffly, bringing his staff to backslap Ahk's head.

Of course training had to come just when his bruises and aches were healing from falling over a tarp fence taller than his whole body. Now everything was back tenfold, aching from old pain and biting from new. The only good part was that now you were both being paid, meaning you could afford a couple luxuries, such as a lavender healing ointment you found on your way home from the brewery that day.

Ahkmen spent a good deal more of his freetime sleeping than you did, napping beneath the warm, mud roof, but safe from the burning rays of the sun. Birds tweeted about outside, their songs muffled through the thick walls. Flies managed to get inside. To his fortune, no one else was in the servant's quarters, and he could splay out on the biggest bed. He continued to doze in the warmth, resting his creaking joints until footsteps sounded through the dry underbrush, crunching beneath small feet.

"Aganu?" Came your soft voice, your knuckles knocking against the cool, clay doorway.

He let out a muffled moan, regretfully moving himself to sit up straight.

"How've you been, my dear?" He asked, sniffing to clear his still-bloody nose.

"Better than you," you said as you knelt beside him.

You carried several different things in your hands, including a damp cloth, a bandage, a small bottle of honey, and the ointment you bought without him.

"What's that?" He asked.

"For the scraping," you said, taking his hand and resting it in your lap palm up.

The cork popped out of the jar, tossed onto the bed as you poured some of the ointment onto your hands. Ahk watched in interest as you took his hand, washing his skin with the cool mixture, and partially burning the more sensitive cuts. He hissed as you passed over the largest.

"Do you think that this is good for you?" You asked as you looked up.

"What, the ointment or –"

"The fighting," you chuckled.

"Ah. Well, it has been good to rehearse some of my moves," he said with a shrug.

You nodded, continuing to massage the red marks.

"Then I can protect you better," he said.

"My little boy," you grinned, pinching his cheek with your lotion-clad fingers. He scrunched up his face, wiping the treatment away.

"I'm not a little boy," he said flatly.

"But you are my – or, mine," you said.

"A little." He nodded vaguely.

Your affections had been switching unpredictably the last few days, since around when he snuck into the King's garden, so he never knew how to react to certain things you said. Sometimes you would snap at him for things he hadn't ever considered, but other times, like this, you tied him to you, caring for wounded muscles and mind.

Once you were done with both his hands, you moved on to his scuffed knees, and gently rubbed the ointment in there. Again he flinched back, but you held him tight in place.

"What are you going to be doing for the party?" He asked after a few minutes of silence, spent convincing himself it'd be odd to reach forward and tangle his fingers in your unkempt hair.

"I am with the beer, and the food," you said, glancing up sparingly. "I am one of the people who does not talk the whole time."

"Oh, don't worry," he sighed, sitting back. "So am I."

It'd be the first event Ahk ever attended where he wasn't expected to look like a God, or to perform some heavenly speech that assured the listening people of his nation.

Later that same day it would be announced to the staff at large that a member of the royal family would be attending as an honored guest of the estate owner's––whose name was Ukani––three, triplet daughters. It was the first time Ahk had seen the identical girls, though you had clearly met them before judging by your glazed over expression. It was also announced that because of this, all the servants and guards would have to be wearing proper attire––something that fit a nobleman's party better than plain skirts and dirtied dresses.

Every servant in line let out a long groan, though most were subdued in the face of the stewardess. She glared down each of you thoroughly.

"I'm sure you'll be glad to learn these will be supplied for you. You won't need to get anything on your own," she said, and everyone seemed to fare much better with that.

She drilled into the eleven of you standing in that line––including yourselves and the other four new recruits–-that respect of the family and their friends was vital, and that employment would not last should that respect be breached. Ahkmen wondered as he watched her steely eyes if guards and servants were treated like this in his own home by the overseers; his personal servant, Naguib, hadn't said anything about it. Then again, Ahk never asked.

You were soon dismissed, and you and Ahk immediately went to each other.

"I do not like this," you said, crossing your arms. Clearly the dress code bothered you, even if it was financially stable.

"Don't worry," he chuckled, "I'm sure you'll look fine."

"I am not a doll."

"Really? You're small enough to be one –"

Before he could laugh at his own joke you punched him in the gut, laughing when he clutched his stomach. Of course, it didn't hurt all that much, but it did take him greatly by surprise.

Steaming buns filled with mashed dates smelled more heavenly than he ever could've imagined. The shop was only across the plaza from the brewery, as well––it gave him an ample opportunity to dash over, purchase a couple, and run back before you finished preparing the same batch throughout the ten you were starting today. Experiments never ended with you––continuous tests and studies had to be conducted.

He jogged down the steps, ducking beneath the tarp doorway with a cloth sack in hand; within it, the buns. The scent of broiling beer wafted thick in the small stirring room, the many fires of different bubbling pots warmed the area as well, and the heat remained trapped beneath the tarp ceiling. Sunlight poured in through gaps between the ceiling and the wall, illuminating wisps of smoke rising from a small plate of incense burning opposite the entrance. A few of the brewers discussed things quietly among themselves as he passed. Familiarity became this room; humid, almost unpleasantly warm, and smelling of nothing more than sweet, honeyed beer. And you.

"How's it coming?" Ahk asked, stopping in front of your stand, the warm desert in his hand clutched to his chest.

"Good, I am with the, uh..." you paused as you pumped the stir stick up and down through the thick malt, "the saffron."

"Smells nice," he said, earning a smile from you.

"Thanks many," you said.

He chuckled, shifting his weight as he looked bashfully down.

"Oh, I got you something," Ahk said after seeing the pouch again. He released the drawstring, pulling out one of the buns.

"Oooh," you said as you took it. "What is it?"

"Some sort of date dessert, I don't think I've ever tried one of these before."

Within the date paste were chewy nuts which, after a moment, tasted distinctly like pistachios. You hummed pleasurably with your first bite, your cheeks puffing out with how massive of a bite you'd taken.

Conversation continued throughout the couple rows of stirring pots, must of the words muffled beneath the churning of beer. Ahkmen finished his bun quicker than you did, and spun slowly round to scan the room before his attention fell back to you, watching as you finished.

"Good?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Very," you assured him.

More murmurs and whispers had him turning around again, trying to look for who was speaking in such noticeable whispers.

"What do you talk about all day with these people?" Ahk asked as he spun back round to you, his hands on his hips.

"I do not talk much," you admitted. "I do not talk good in Akkadian, but I do hear what they say."

"So... what do they talk about?"

"Oh, they have parents, and children, and lovers... and they have the beer, also. They, uh.. they do talk about you," you added hesitantly.

"Me?" He asked incredulously.

He turned around and, sure enough, two women's eyes darted from the back of his head down to their work.

"Wait, why?" He asked, suddenly horrified by the products of his imagination. So much so that he didn't notice his hands gripping the lip of your pot, soon to be burned by the heat. Once he noticed, he ripped his hands away, scanning the red marks on his palms

"Aganu, do not do that," you said in a tired sigh, clunking the spoon down in the bowl.

You stepped down from your stool, taking him by his wrist and leading him over to a corner of the brewery stocked with shelves. The class and clay bottle clinked together brightly as you shuffled through them, expertly finding a small, black bottle with an equally adorable cork. A pop came from it as you pulled it out, placing your finger over the mouth and shaking it upside down.

"What is that?" He asked quietly as he looked over your shoulder.

"It is an oil, for burns," you said, concentrating greatly as you organized the cork, the bottle, and your oil-covered finger onto one hand.

"Oh. Does it happen a lot?"

"Yes," you said with an irate groan that had Ahk chuckling. "Harmu come in here and make love words with the women, and – and take them off the beer, and that makes the batch fail. That is a lot of barley, gone."

"Ah," he breathed out.

While you talked you took his hand, displaying the burnt palm and coating it with the oil on your finger. Since there was only a little bottle of it, you used very little with each dip into the oil, and thus had to flip the bottle much more frequently over your finger.

"It is still okay to eat, but it is not good at all," you said, shaking your head.

"You've tried it then?"

"I have smelled it," you said.

He belted out a laugh.

"Am I one of the... what did you call them? Harmu?"

"Yes, uh... fuck, what is it in Egyptian?" You closed your eyes, your face screwed up in a frown. "I can only remember the Akkadian and the Harappan."

"But am I one of them?

You looked up, almost surprised by his question.

"Oh, no, you do not make love with women here," you said.

Ahkmen sighed very, very deeply, just barely staunching the circus of laughter in his chest.

"Please don't say that again."

The whole of the incident was forgotten by the time you were walking home, bathed in the shadow of the tall city walls. Most of the stores you passed were now closed, making way for warm nights and a hot meal, the latter of which you looked forward to. It took a little getting used to, but eventually the porridge-type beer served at the estate rubbed off on you.

Until then, you wandered through the streets of Babylon, absorbing the colors bursting around you, before sinking into the quiet of night once more.

By the time the stone walls of the estate came into view, life around you had dimmed into such quiet moments resigned to the windows of nearby houses. Crickets chirped in the absence of thundering footsteps.

Neither of you spoke much––sometimes commentating on stray cats or dogs, or the bugs that jumped in and out of view, but little more than that. Part of it was Ahkmen's doing, as he was usually the first to say something, and as of right now he was far too absorbed in his own thoughts to make any such conversation. But, like usual, he was still engrossed in you, dreaming of something that came to his sleepy mind a few hours ago.

"Husband!" You suddenly exclaimed, your eyes widening as recognition washed over you.

"What??"

"That is the word I did not know, harmu, it is husband," you said with a grin.

"Ohh," he said. "You scared me."

"Sorry," you said, and leant into him, holding his arm to your chest.

Ah, right. That's what a heart palpitation felt like, beating wildly in his chest at the feeling of your heat. Even in the warm evening he revelled in the touch. So maybe it was alright, he reasoned––maybe you really had forgiven him, and done readily so, leaving Ahk himself to build this discomfort in your presence that fed off his uncertainty.

Perhaps he should live more in the moment––that is what he thought, and he debated it greatly during your small dinner atop the servant's quarters roof.

The two of you chewed in silence for a little while, enjoying the warmth of the porridge as quiet murmurs below you broke the creaking of crickets. Someone down in the quarters was plucking at a lute, but made no particular melody, and Ahk imagined them leant back on their bed, their head pressed against the wall and their eyes closed as they played. It'd been a while since he'd heard you play, and he'd never heard you actually sing before for purposes other than making fun of him.

While he listened he stared ahead at the city's silhouette, from the dips marking streets to the towers reaching the Milky Way. He squinted to see the steps of a pyramid––not entirely unlike the step pyramid of Djoser––and frowned when he couldn't identify its' use. Temples were built in the form of ziggurats in Babylon, not pyramids.

It hit him after a few more seconds of staring, and before he could think it through he blurted something out that he couldn't quite hear.

"I think we should go see one of the gardens here," he said, recogniing the vines and flora that draped from the steps of the tower. "They've been taunting me lately with their grandeur."

You chuckled, leaning back and saying, "okay... but I have garden work, here, tomorrow."

"Of course. Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, always," you said with a nod.

"You said the women talk about me. What do they say?" He asked.

"Oh," a smile spread across your face as you looked away, "oh, not any words too bad. It is... you do not speak Akkadian, that is not right for them, you know? And you do have clothes a little... um, not Karanduniash. You speak only to me and all you say to them is I do not know Akkadian in Akkadian. That is also a little..."

"Strange?" He offered.

"A little," you nodded, shrugging in hopes of lessening the blow.

"I've never been strange before," he said quietly.

"What?" You looked up from the floor to meet his eye.

"Well, my father was rich so a lot of people treated me with great respect. If I wanted to I could have had hordes of friends and followers, so it was definitely my own choice to stay to myself," he said, gesturing vaguely with his hands as he spoke and you nodded along with him.

"I had thought people did not like you," you admitted.

"What, why??" He said, suddenly horrified. His reaction had you belting out a laugh.

"You had one, mean friend, and Panya did not like you, too," you said with another apologetic shrug.

"Well when you put it like that," he said, and the both of you devolved into giggles.

When you calmed down there was less space between you, your dishes set to the side as you inched closer.

"Did Panya ever talk about me?" He asked, inquisitive eyes scanning you thoroughly.

"A little," you nodded. "She says... you did mean things when you were.. young. Piye did, too."

"Piye said I was a bad person?"

"No, only that you had things when you were young," you assured him. "But good things, also. You are... kind, in heart."

Your attention glazed over, and Ahk watched with uncertainty as you reached forward, setting your hand over his trembling heart. He could feel your hand moving with how hard his heart beat, trying desperately to calm himself as skin met flushed skin.

Fingers trailed down his bare chest until you withdrew your hand entirely, finally looking back up at him with gleaming eyes.

"I think you are good, still if you say the words wrong, you are good at heart," you said in a sudden need to assure him of his own humanity.

It acted as an apology in your eyes, but to him he saw nothing but love, and his heartbeat increased tenfold. What summer nights brought about amidst the bugs and acquaintances murmuring below.

Coins jingled in his pocket as he made his way through the streets, weaving through thick crowds to reach the center marketplace. He bid good-bye to you several minutes earlier, leaving you to work on the estate's garden, while Ahkmen enjoyed his freetime away from the masters. His clothes, perfectly suited to blend in with the locals, also hid away his various bags of grain and coins that he would use as payment, and the dagger strapped to his hip.

There was no particular aim he had in mind as he walked, eyes darting from the indecipherable shop signs to the various people spending their morning out on the streets. He would, at times, come across small trios or couplets of musicians who filled up the space between loud conversations, bringing to the chaos a sort of art. High flutes played in tune with deep lyres, the instruments made of a cheaper wood more easily afforded by the lower classes. But the bustle of traders and merchants could still be heard clearly throughout the noise, calling out prices and wares, and advertising the many products sold within the streets of Babylon.

Babylon had, like Egypt, somehow retained much of its' prosperity despite the trying times. Rapiqum and the cities of Canaan––Jericho and Jerusalem––suffered much worse; a lack of water befalling the people who resided in the starved cities. But the river Euphrates never strayed from Babylon, and had continued to run through the city in plentiful waves.

The water of the Euphrates was said to be tears. Tears from the primorial Goddess, whose name Ahk couldn't recall. He frowned as he looked over the edge of the terrace, leaning on a white stone railing that separated him from a ten foot drop into the swirling waters below, lined with the blue tile of the city's gates. From the even decorations on either side, Ahk correctly assumed that it marked the water level of a typical year; the water currently ran an arm's length below the mark. He let out a long sigh, his fingers digging into the railing.

At the sight of this Ahk couldn't help but imagine the Nile falling to such depths. Each year brought forth a differing inundation, making it hard to truly worry about the water level. But years of this would dry the farmlands, polluting the cities with dry, infertile dirt, and ridding of the already scant shade along the Nile's shores. Birds would leave in droves, and antelope would follow the scent of water to more fruitful lands.

He didn't notice how tight his grip on the rail grew until the plaster cracked, the pop drawing his attention back to his intense glare and gritted jaw. A couple of the people stopping at the riverside gave him odd looks, some of them scooting away from him, at which point he released all the tension in his body and stepped quickly away, heading back into the western city.

He once again found himself in one of the city's many center circles, allowing shopfronts to spread out in multitudes to present their wares. Nearly all the shops were open at this time, since it was around noon, and Ahk could hardly hear his own thoughts with the rampant conversation and shouts surrounding him. A headache sprouted in his knotted brow from the confused––or irritated––expression on him.

"Lost, are you?"

"Who the f–"

Ahk whipped around to see who had spoken, mostly because it was in Egyptian, only to find a dissapointingly familiar face.

"Oh. You," Ahk said stiffly, crossing his arms as he stopped dead in the center of the moving crowd, the Kassite Prince standing across from him with a smile.

"I thought you looked a little lonely out here," he said, taking several, leisurely steps forward. "All by yourself."

"Listen, you and I do not know each other," Ahk said, taking his movement as a challenge and stepping forward till he truly faced the shorter prince. "Stop talking to me in public."

"You should feel honored I ever speak to you at all," he retorted.

Ahkmen internally groaned. Did others feel this way when they spoke to him during his childhood? The Kassite Prince did seem to be a little younger than Ahk, though not by much.

"Don't you have Kings in Egypt?" the Prince continued.

"Pharaohs. And I'm fully aware they do, I just never liked them," Ahk lied sourly, his lips pursed tight together.

"That gold on your arm says otherwise," he said, gesturing with his chin to the gold band wrapped round his bicep.

"Who even are you?"

"The Prince, you –"

"I know that," Ahk interrupted him. "I meant your name."

The Kassite Prince hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question.

"You know what? I don't care," Ahk said after another second of silence, throwing his hands up in the in defeat, and turning round and walking away.

"Hey!" The prince called out in a whine, but the crowd already welled up in the space between them. "My name's Rimush!"

"And my name's Fuck You," Ahk muttered beneath his breath.

Incense from Elam. Considering your interest in other cultures, and the magic ongoings of said cultures, Ahk took the guess that you would enjoy a hint of the travel yet to come. You still had beer batches you had to finish, and Ahk was enjoying his time returning to combat training, eagerly memorizing each move and doing it thoroughly as he imagined besting any creature that dared to hurt you. There was no need to hurry yourselves to Elam, but there still lingered a curiosity in you and Ahkmen. Priest teachers in Egypt never spoke much about Elam considering the distances between the two countries. Imports reached further than power, however, so Ahk actually had used Elamite incense before, and recalled it as being pleasant. You'd like it, he thought.

Incense progressed into talismans and tools, till his poor money-managing skills led him to carrying three bags worth of things, some for you, and some for himself. Most for you, though. He burned a bright red as he walked back to the estate, already knowing how you'd laugh, rocking back in your seat as he revealed your effect on him even without your presence. But it would be worth it to see the hidden delight in your twinkling eyes.

"Aganu, do you know how many necklaces you have give me?" You asked, about ten minutes after you asked what the thing in your hand was, and he answered 'necklace'.

"No, I wasn't really counting," he said, lifting himself out of his own bag to look over your shoulder.

You sat on his bed, you at the head and him on the side, his legs still planted on the ground. Two of the bags were now empty, their contents scattered in piles around the sheets, all of which belonged to you. Ahk kept his own belongings in a separate bag on the floor.

"This is ten and six necklaces," you said as you held up the mass of necklaces, looking more like tiny, black and brown worms rather than jewelry, the sight of which had giggles bubbling up in both of you.

"Sorry?" He said through his chuckling.

"No, no, I love," you said, setting to untangling them.

It took nearly ten minutes but eventually the two of you untangled all of them, only for you to put every last one of them around your neck, tangling them back around on your chest. You flashed a dizzying grin once you wore all his gifts.

"It's still early," he stuttered out, his face slowly warming with blood as he found himself unable to look away from you, or the sunlight streaming through the door that illuminated your soft skin. "Do you think today'll work for the garden?"

"Oh, yes," you said, straightening your back. "Yes, that is good!"

He chuckled, averting his eyes to his fidgeting fingers.

Tamarisk trees flanked the entrance of the tower, still scraping the sky with the tallest terrace overflowing with leaves of green. The throes of a dying sun painted the white pillars red and orange, burning like flames that would surely overtake the city, but still cooled by the high-up winds that brushed against the hanging trees and flowers.

A wide arch greeted you, acting as a massive entrance leading into a tall room overflowing with grasses, reeds, and bushes. Most of them you recognized instantly––herbs of special sorts, both from Mesopotamia and from far away. You picked those you recognized, stuffing the leaves and roots into one of your many pockets. Ahkmen chuckled at your behavior, but still stopped at your side to allow your collecting, which continued to the stairs carved in a polished, white stone, massive lamassu statutes towering above you. They popped right out of the stone, empty eyes staring straight down into Ahk.

"Wow," he said, earning a hum from you.

"It is like Egypt," you said.

He turned to you with a frown.

"How so?"

"Big, stone cat, with a man head," you said, pointing up at the human fae.

"Oh," he turned back to the statue, "I suppose you're right."

A couple came down the stairs, pressed tightly together when they noticed you. The two of you also drew closer, and began to head up the stairs, watching for the new flora that bloomed out of seemingly nothing.

Lines of arches whose pillars were carved in intricate patterns led to the wind of open air rustling through the trees, willows and their long tendrils dancing and entangling themselves with the flowers of nearby vines. Water clung to the air around you, kept humid and warm in the strange, and surely intentional, dome of a ceiling. Yet more stairs sat behind you, meaning the next floor must've been built higher than the ceiling of the second floor.

Fruits––though most of them small––grew on the low bushes and on high trees, their blooming colors matching the many petals of white, red, gold, and deep purple. You soon discovered the reason for the small fruits was that the other people roaming throughout the terraces picked the larger, more ripened ones, eating them as they wandered about. You soon did the same, picking a small plum and offering part of it to Ahk. He took a couple bites before handing it back to you.

At the brush of your fingers, his heart did not speed––not like before, and he melted into the familiarity, into the warmth he memorized in your touch. Without much thought he took your hand, entwining your fingers sticky with fruit sugar together. When you didn't try to pull away, he pushed down the excitement that was quick to fill his chest, but allowed himself a small smile.

A woman picked fruit from a tree in front of your path, but when he accidentally caught her eye, she hurried off with her basket in hand. Ahk looked up to where she'd been tending, and found large, red pomegranates hanging abundantly from the flimsy tree.

Moving up to his toes, he picked one of the fruits and handed it to you.

"Ever had a pomegranate before?" He asked when you just held it, staring at it in your hands.

"That is this?" You said as you raised it.

"Indeed so. My brother and I used to split it."

"You had a brother??" You asked incredulously.

"Did I never tell you?"

"No," you said. Obviously.

"Alright, well, before he started really hating me, we'd sometimes sneak out into the market and split food, since we couldn't find enough money to pay for an overzealous amount," Ahk explained.

At the very end of his sentence you took a massive bite into the raw peel, instantly frowning when you bit into something fleshy and bitter. Ahkmen, who took a second to notice this, quickly took the fruit from you with a gasp. A large bitemark was already in the fruit.

"That – that's not how you eat pomegranates," he stammered, digging his thumbs into the new-revealed fruit, and splitting it open to reveal the seeds within.

"It is bad," you said, your expression still contorted uncomfortably.

"Spit it out!"

You spit your bite into the nearby bushes, earning cold stares from the couple of people who saw. Their gazes had you shrinking in on yourself.

"Don't worry about it," Ahk said quietly, setting a hand on your back. "I would definitely have done the same thing."

The two of you split the pomegranate, and Ahkmen showed you that it was the fruit-covered seeds that were the truly consumable part. You ended up enjoying them quite a bit, and the one pomegranate lasted you throughout the whole of the marble and limestone garden terrace, following you up the stairs till nothing remained but the shell. Ahk tossed the remains away, and the two of you continued onwards.

Eventually the air began to cool with the ascending floors, and Ahk's Egyptian clothes––which he'd worn that day because he had no work––ceased to fit the temperature, landing Ahk with a soured look and goosebumps coming up constantly on his arms that were crossed tight over his chest.

"Awwwh, you are cold?" You asked in a saccharine voice, after Ahk spent ten minutes wondering if you noticed his shivering.

Your attention did feel better, but not enough.

"A little," he said.

"You do want my coat?" You offered, already setting to undoing the buttons set high on the stiff, red and gold fabric neck.

"No, no, don't trouble yourself," Ahk said quickly, unwrapping his arms from himself to shake his hands no.

"That is okay," you said after a moment. "I do not think it would go in your big arms."

"You think my arms are big?" He squeaked out, looking down at his bicep, which had grown slightly more toned after several training sessions.

"Well, you..." you poked his left bicep, "are big."

"How kind of you, Yogasundari," he said with a massive grin, looking down at you like you lit up the sky.

"Shut up," you said as you pushed him away, earning a loud laugh from him.

"What a show you put on," came a voice from behind you. "I'm almost embarrassed to be seen talking to you."

Ahk groaned––externally this time––and turned slowly around, his dull eyes meeting the Prince Rimush's plotting expression.

"Then stop talking to us," Ahk said, setting his left arm around your shoulder and directing the both of you back forward.

"You've got me there," Rimush said and, to Ahk's great dismay, ran to catch up with you and Ahk, standing at Ahkmen's right. "I just can't dismiss how wonderful of a whore you would make."

Ahk shot you an odd look, but you just shrugged.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked with a glare.

"Well, you've got the body for it, and you clearly don't care about showing a little skin," he said, a smirk creeping across his face.

"You know, I don't complain that you're a little brat and that I wish I could subjugate you. Maybe you could do the same," Ahkmen said.

Rimush just laughed, throwing his head of curly, black hair back.

"Who is this man?" You whispered to Ahk while the other was distracted.

"Some idiot I've seen a couple times. He's just a dick."

"I am a Prince, thank you," Rimush interrupted with a cocked brow.

"Okay, Prince Dick," Ahk said, rolling his eyes.

Rimush's mouth fell open as he stared at Ahk, stopping dead in his step. You and Ahk spared him no mercy, and continued forward, leaving the Kassite Prince behind, but only for a moment. He soon ran back up to join you, drawing a heavier-yet groan from Ahkmen.

"Oh come on, don't be like that," he said, hitting Ahk's chest.

"Would you please leave? I'm trying to spend an evening alone with my – my..." Ahk trailed off, his eyes darting to you and back to Rimush.

"Tunae," you suggested, and despite not knowing what the hell you were talking about, he agreed.

"Alright, very well," Rimush said with a long sigh, his shoulders sagging. "But I'd still like to invite you to an event within a few weeks, if you're not too busy... staring at each other."

"Clever," Ahk said flatly.

"It's at Ukani's estate. One of our high priests, a good friend of my father's," the Prince continued.

It took a moment, but the words oh fuck rolled over Ahk's already irritated mind.

"We'll already be there," Ahk said. "We work for the man."

"Oh, wonderful. I hope you're doing some of the dancing, then," Rimush said, and his eyes raked over Ahk again. "I've heard the dancers are dressed in only the finest and thinnest of silks."

"I guess you'll find out," Ahk replied in the same, flat tone.

The two of you, now pressed tightly together, didn't move or speak till Rimush's unkempt locks disappeared down the stairway. At that point Ahk let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, and returned his attention chiefly to you.

"He is a prince?" You asked as you picked up your stroll once more.

"Yes, somehow."

"We must be good to him," you said.

"Uh... why?" Ahk asked, wanting to do the exact opposite.

"You said, in Egypt, to go with what the power says, the Kings and that," you said, and his eyes drifted shut.

"I did say that, didn't I," he mumbled.

Now that those conventions weren't upholding his status and were there instead to crush him, well––things seemed a little different on the earth than it did in the clouds, and his thought process worked just the same.

Both of you fell quiet after that, wandering in silence throughout the climbing terraces. Trees of figs, dates, melons, plums, and pears lined the walkway, beside softly running streams pouring their lifeforce into the plants. After several minutes, and a couple floors later, Ahk finally gathered up enough gall to take your hand again. Instantly your fingers tangled into his, and he noted with great pride the smile tugging at the corners of your blushing lips.

The very top of the tower overlooked the whole of the city, from the ziggurats to the outer walls, and to the town-like structures stretching onwards from Karanduniash. The Euphrates continued on endlessly, splitting the land before you in two as wind blew with the force to disrobe you.

People who walked down below were no larger than the ochre dot on your forehead, and moved about as slow as an ant crawling to get to its' hive. Ahk was the only one that could truly watch them, as you were uneasy whenever you leant over the garden's edge, and saw the ground below at a height tall enough to kill you. Instead you crossed you arms, whining whenever Ahk got too close and appeared to be close to falling off.

"Do not be dumb," you said with a frown, your folded arms helping keep your clothes tight to your body.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," he said, leaning just enough over the sheer cliff to see the terraces built beneath you, and those who stood on the edge just as he did.

"I would like to worry about that, thank you," you said matter-of-factly.

Ahkmen chuckled but relented, returning to your side in the center of the highest floor. Despite the plant's water coming from far below you, the creek still ran through the last terrace, feeding the scant trees and brush that could survive the overbearing winds. The bells of rushing water accompanied him as he took your hands, holding them gentle in his own.

"You know I adore you, don't you?" He said, scanning your expectant eyes.

"What does a door do with this?"

"No, not -" he giggled with warming cheeks, "not a door. Adore. It means to care for something deeply, to admire it in a way."

"Ohhh, yes, I did hear this, I only forgot. Sorry," you said with your own sheepish chuckle.

"No need to apologize. I just want you to remember that."

"What adore is saying?"

"No, that I adore you," he said, and despite his screw-ups rushing blood to his face, he knelt before you to more easily meet your eye.

Looking up to you was a special sort of reverence. His bare knee dug into the fertile earth, his other kept up near his chest as he craned his neck to hold your gaze. You appeared, for a moment, to be entirely quiet, wide eyes staring wordlessly down at him. Even the breath in your chest ceased to move.

In the past, you had bowed before many people––passing Kings and High Priests, masters, and your own family in celebrations for the new year. The view from above was quite different from the one below, and you were allowed movement.

You gently pulled one of your hands out of his hold. His empty hand fell like muslin to his lap, a feeling replicated in warm, tingling sensations when your thumb stroked over his jawline. Eyes fluttered shut once more as he leant into your touch, melting when the whole of your palm rested on his flushed cheek.

"Look at me," you said softly, and Ahk raised his head, opening his eyes. "Know my face."

"I've already memorized it," he replied in a murmur.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x female reader #ahkmenrah x male reader

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gaangadventures · 4 years

Text

Soulmates

I hope you guys like this one! It’s a bit longer than I originally expected, but feel free to request or tell me if I forgot any pieces in this c:

As a child, your father always said soulmates were for the weak as he didn’t have one on his wrist, your mother never said if she had one or not as hers were always covered.

You always loved the stories about them, as you had one on your wrist like most people did. Your brother had one as well, just on his right wrist while you had yours on your left, but you doubted that your sister had one since she was always bragging that she wasn’t weak like you or Zuko but strong like Father.

You wondered when you would meet them, or if you ever would. The name was odd, you thought, it didn’t sound like a Fire Nation name. But neither did your brother’s, so maybe they were travelers?

So much of your time had been spent daydreaming about your soulmate, even though the name was faded and gray unlike your brother’s was. Your mother tried to tell you once that your soulmate had died before you could meet them, and you refused to believe it.

So much had changed, you thought, in the years that followed. Your mother had gone missing as your father became the new Fire Lord, and you and your brother had been banished.

Your brother might have wanted to return with the Avatar for his honor, but you wanted nothing to do with your father.

Not after he’d hurt Zuko like that. The memory of it had the candles surrounding you aflame and nearly scorching the metal ceiling. He didn’t deserve it, even if he believed otherwise.

The Agni Kai that had ruined both your brother’s life and your own, had left you practically foaming at the mouth with anger even while you meditated.

The sun was only just rising as you sat in your room, your armor laying on your bed, as you began to feel the familiar warmth dance across your hands. It was close but it was as if it didn’t want to hurt you.

If not for the bandages wrapped around your right shoulder and down to your wrist, you could have forgotten that you had been scarred by a flame just so similar. You hadn’t been able to summon lightning like before, not since before your banishment.

Not that you would, the thought of it leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

A few hours more of meditating, you weren’t too sure, but there was a flash of light according to your brother and uncle, and a sudden feeling at your wrist, leaving you gasping in surprise or pain, you weren’t sure.

When you looked down at your wrist, it was as if the name had been written in ink once more, no longer faded. It was strange to see it like that, and you couldn’t help but stare at it for a few minutes, as if in awe at it.

Since you hadn’t met your soulmate, you had started to believe what your mother told you years ago, that they had died before the two of you could meet. As you were thinking, you hurried to get your cloak and you were out of your room and out with your brother and your uncle.

“That light came from an incredibly powerful force, it has to be him!” Your brother exclaimed, ever as determined to catch said Avatar and bring him back to Father.

“Or it’s just the celestial lights.” Your uncle added, as you opened our mouth to start talking but he continued while playing his game of Pai Sho. “We’ve been down this road before, Prince Zuko. I don’t want you to get too excited over nothing.” Your gaze switched from Zuko and your Uncle Iroh, knowing that he was getting ready to burst. “Please sit. Why don’t you enjoy a cup of calming jasmine tea?”

“I don’t need any calming tea! I need to capture the avatar! Helmsman, head a course for the light!” He shouted, and you briefly wondered if these three years at sea had done anything to help calm his temper.

You shook your head with a small frown, turning your attention to your uncle, and holding out your arm. You held out a bit of hope for whoever your soulmate was, and now you knew they were alive. “Uncle, look. It’s like new.” You spoke, and at the thought of it, your frown had been switched with a soft smile. You were sure that if you tried to show Zuko, he would just tell you to stop daydreaming again, and to help him with finding the Avatar and you could go home too.

But Uncle Iroh only gave a knowing look before he started to talk, as if he knew something that you didn’t. “How peculiar. Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate soon.” You couldn’t help it when your smile had turned into a grin with what he said. And if what you thought was true, you could only hope that whoever it was wouldn’t hate you on sight.

“I’m going to bed now.” Letting out a yawn, the old man stretched, his attention going to your brother as you shivered and immediately went into your room. “Yep. A man needs his rest. Prince Zuko, you need some sleep. Even if you’re right, and the Avatar is alive, you won’t find him. Your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather all tried and failed.”

“Because their honor didn’t hinge on the Avatar’s capture, mine does. This coward’s hundred years of hiding are over.” Zuko had answered his uncle, staring out at the sea with determination.

That night, you could hardly sleep because you were so excited and mildly nervous. He’d said you might meet them soon, and you were a mix between worrying about whether or not they would hate you and excited because this had been all you wanted for years, not that you would admit that to anyone but yourself.

Waking like a regular firebender, you rose with the sun and began training as well as your brother.

“Again,” your uncle repeated, you were sure that it was going to turn into a mantra with how many times he would have to say it.

With another start, you and Zuko began to have another round of training. If you were serious about things and you weren’t like usual, while your brother was overly serious of course.

“No. Power and firebending come from the breath, not the muscles. The breath becomes energy in the body. The energy extends past your limbs and becomes fire!” As if to make an example, he did a form of his own and within seconds, he had fire out of his fist. “Get it right this time.”

“Enough. I’ve been drilling this sequence all day. Teach me the next set. I’m more than ready.” Zuko attempted to get him to do so, and you couldn’t help but snicker as your uncle refused to.

“No, you’re impatient. You have yet to master your basics, and Y/N, you have hardly been serious about any of this training for months now.” Your snickering ceased and you shrugged your shoulders, as you had your moments of not training even if they’ve been longer than you originally thought.

“Why should I train? It’s not my life goal to capture the Avatar to regain my honor that I never lost in the first place.” You were somewhat joking to begin with, but then you just ended up being meaner than you meant to.

“You went against Father, and disrespected him! You were banished just as well as I was!”

“I went against him because I needed to.” You retorted, and you almost wished that you weren’t so much shorter than your older brother. You really wanted to slap him for lacking so much common sense.

“That is quite enough, you two.” With that light scolding from your uncle, you went into your room and didn’t come back out that night.

Of course, the mention of the banishment still hurt, especially since you were the only one that even tried to stop it at nine years old. And you had the scars to prove it as well, but your brother was still hurt badly from it. But at least when you intervened, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

A new day began, and your brother was still bound and determined to catch the Avatar, but this one started with the entire ship temporarily stopping at some tiny village in the South Pole.

“Where are you hiding him?” He asked, before grabbing a poor old lady from the group and grabbing her by her coat. “He’d be about this age, master of all elements.”

“Zuko, let her go!” You were vehement about this and he probably already knew that you wouldn’t stop, and your brother only shoved her to a girl that looked like she could be the old lady’s granddaughter.

As you headed to the edge of the ship, only bits of your armor were on, mostly to keep you warm as your scar had a tendency to hurt sometimes. You wanted to be able to see this, and intervene if need be.

Your brother raised his hand in a half-circle towards the group, just to scare them before he continued. “I know you’re hiding him!” He cried out, before some sort of Southern Water Tribe warrior attempted to attack him only for Zuko to dodge and the other to practically fly over him and landed back in the snow.

At the least, you wanted nothing to do with any of your brother’s fights but you severely hoped that the warrior that he was fighting wouldn’t get too hurt. In a matter of moments, your attention was brought back to them when you heard a clang and saw the boomerang hit the back of his head and you couldn’t help but laugh at him.

You received a glare from Zuko in return as his anger turned to the water tribe boy, and his hands flared with flames before he was suddenly bowled over by some boy wearing orange and yellow. How strange.

The group started cheering when the boy had slid over towards them with the otter-penguin he’d been riding, and you watched as said boy moved his staff and there was suddenly a lot of snow flying over the soldiers and your brother, only for Zuko to melt it off.

“You’re the airbender? You’re the Avatar?” Zuko had asked, a disbelieving tone obvious in his voice. “I’ve spent years preparing for this encounter, training, meditating. You’re just a child.”

“Well, you’re just a teenager.” The boy had sassed back, and you tilted your head, already knowing that your brother was sure to lose his temper and lose.

While he threw punches of fire towards him, the boy blocked it each time with his staff, letting it out before anything could catch, but the flames were scaring the group and they screamed when it got too close.

“If I go with you, will you promise to leave everyone alone?” He said, and you thought that was either very stupid or very brave. You happened to be leaning towards the latter.

You brother got out of his battle stance and merely nodded in agreement, the soldiers already going behind the boy and leading him onto the boat.

“No, Aang, don’t do this,” the girl that your brother had pushed the old lady into pleaded, stepping forward but not close enough to worry anyone going onto the boat.

“Don’t worry, Katara, it’ll be okay.” He answered back, and you froze. You hadn’t even noticed the soldiers being rougher than they should’ve been, all you did was walk away from the edge.

“Take care of Appa for me until I get back.” He said, and you barely registered anything that was happening anymore, putting your hand over your left wrist. There were bracers covering them, but you still felt exposed.

“Head a course for the Fire Nation. We’re going home.” Your brother called out, giving you a glance as well.

While the boat sailed away from the water tribe village, you were still reeling but enough to understand what was going on.

“This staff will make an excellent gift for my father. I suppose you wouldn’t know of fathers, being raised by monks.” Zuko mocked, holding the staff in front of him.

“Seriously? How much more rude can you get?” You snapped, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. He really wanted to mock this kid about fathers, when his own literally burned his face and your arm? He had quite the nerve, didn’t he?

“Take the Avatar to the prison hold,” your brother continued, pointedly ignoring what you said. “and take this to my quarters.” He held the staff out to your uncle, letting Iroh take it before walking away before your uncle only turned to another soldier.

“Hey, you mind taking this to his quarters for me?”

Within minutes of that conversation, the avatar himself was out of the soldiers’ grip and breaking doors down and you had barely gotten in front of your own room when he was trapped between soldiers.

“Stand down.” You spoke, and with that, they were already sheathing their swords and moving to the side of the hallway.

“Of course-” one of them started, and you knew they were going to say your name, and you just shook your head, just as the boy turned to look at you.

“You haven’t seen my staff around, have you?” To which you nodded, grabbing the rope at his hands and burning the knot so his hands were free within seconds.

“C’mon, follow me.” You said, a grin already forming on your face as you raced past a few empty rooms, you were glad that you had already tried exploring through the boat that you now had memorized.

You knew it would have to be in your brother’s room, walking in first through the open door. It was odd. He never has his door open. He was expecting this, but maybe not from you, or at least you hoped not. You turned with the realization of the open door being a trap to yell at the avatar, but he was already in the room with you by the time you could say anything.

“I expected this.” He said shortly, giving you a glare that made you gaze at the floor instead, glancing back up when your brother had been defeated and your new friend?, you weren’t sure what to call him, but he was pulling you up with him.

In a matter of moments, you were flying? At the sight and the feeling of it, you were in awe and could only let out a laugh before a hand on his ankle was pulling you both back down onto the ship.

Some sort of a growl had been heard through the crew, and it was where everyone had their attention as well.

“What is that?” Your brother had asked, and you wanted to ask the same thing, but he looked so soft! How was it flying?

“Appa!” The avatar had yelled out, and you tilted your head, wondering if this was the same Appa he had meant previously. As they got closer, you could see the same girl--Katara, and a boy that looked like the warrior that had attacked your brother.

In his distraction, your brother had thrown fire at him once again, only for him to block it with his staff each time.

When the fire managed to singe his hands, you threw your own at your brother, already knowing that he would block it. Turning to look at Aang, you saw him tumble off the edge, his staff on the other side of the boat.

“Aang!” You yelled, and if this was the last time you saw your soulmate, you swore that it wouldn’t end like this.

“Aang, no! Aang! Aang!” Katara had shouted, and before you knew it, you let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding once you could see him out of the water. He was bending the water into a spiral, and was this the Avatar state? His eyes and his arrows were glowing as he bent the water, pushing soldiers off the boat, including your brother but you assumed he would be fine.

When he was done, he had slowly dropped onto the floor, you were running towards him while the two water tribe kids flew with Appa, landing on the boat. “Are you okay?” You asked, already bent down onto your knees, checking him over for any injuries.

“Aang, are you okay?”

“Hey Katara, hey Sokka. Thanks for coming.” He said, and as if they were just now realizing that you were here, they turned to you.

“Well, I couldn’t let you have all the glory.”

“I dropped my staff.”

“Got it!”

“Get away from him!”

“Katara, it’s okay, she saved me!”

“She’s Fire Nation!” The warrior boy exclaimed when he came back with Aang’s staff, and you only gave him a flat look as if to ask if he was just now realizing that.

“That’s fair. Nice to meet you?” You attempted to introduce yourself, before drawing up fire at the soldiers beginning to stand once more when Aang had climbed onto Appa.

As Katara stood up to fight with you, she bended water like Aang had, except accidentally freezing the warrior’s boy feet to the boat. While said boy was busy picking at the ice with the weapon, you were keeping other soldiers away with your advanced flames. You turned to see if Katara needed any help, you blinked to see the three soldiers already frozen.

“Hurry up Sokka!” She called out, already beginning to climb onto Appa.

“I’m just a guy with a boomerang. I didn’t ask for all this flying and magic.” You heard him say, finishing with the ice at his feet before hurrying up onto the bison.

You halfway expected for them to leave you there, but you were being pulled up onto it as well. You looked over the edge of the saddle to see a fireball being thrown towards you, and out of instinct, you cowered, closing your eyes for a moment, just to open them to see Aang having blasted it away with his airbending.

You were quiet as the group flew away, your arm reaching out as if to touch the clouds, the ones you seemed to be sitting so close to. What did a cloud feel like anyway?

“How did you do that with the water? It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”

“I don’t know. I just sort of did it.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were the avatar?”

“Because I never wanted to be.”

“But Aang, the world has been waiting for the avatar to return and end this war.”

“But how am I going to do that?”

“According to legend, you need to first master water, then earth, then fire, right?”

“That’s what the monks told me.”

“Well, if we go to the North Pole, you can master waterbending.”

“We can learn it together!”

“And Sokka, I’m sure you’d get to knock some firebender heads on the way.”

“I’d like that.”

“I guess if we’re stuck with each other, my name is Y/N, and that guy that kept going after you is my brother, Zuko.” You spoke up, albeit hesitantly after hearing what they said, deciding to take your bracers off, you were sure that they would see the name, but with what they had done for their friend, you only hoped they would at least not kill you. Even if you probably deserved it.

“I’m Aang!” Ever the optimist, the airbender happily introduced himself, and was literally the only reason you were here.

“I’m Katara, and this is my brother, Sokka.” She said, although it was obvious that neither of them trusted you, she was at least trying to be polite. And that was okay. You couldn’t say you really expected even that much.

So you couldn’t help it when a smile had slipped onto your face, even when the two siblings looked at you like you were crazy.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar fanfic #atla fanfic #aang x reader #katara #sokka #zuko #iroh #appa #female reader #reader is zuko's youngest sister #she's 12 yes

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bloodys44 · 3 years

Text

Silence and Cigarette Smoke

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

Ive almost finished writing chapter 10!! You can read ahead to chapter 9 on FF.net if your interested :)

Chapter 7: The Dragons Return

790

Natsu hated trains. He'd hated them for as long as he could remember and would probably continue his vendetta until he was dead and cold. The particular train he was on counted as no exception. The constant sway and jostle of the cars made a mockery of his intestines and the over-crowded compartments felt smothering, clouding his senses and leaving him feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. Not to mention the absolute fiasco he'd gone through to board the damn thing in the first place. Royal security had practically quadrupled over the past year, leaving public vicinities like train stations (Or even the streets for that matter.) ground zero for mage hunting. As of late, there had been a generally adopted travelling protocol for the enchanted, one that Erza had not to kindly drilled into his head. Usually, it involved studying shift changes and positioning of officers, and most almost always included a heavily inflated bill for "proper identification" that his extremely shallow pockets couldn't even fathom. The current time allowance for this trip was nerve-wrackingly unclear, but he knew for certain he didn't have time to waste tracking foot paces of soldier dogs. He also knew he didn't have time for the slight delay the train was currently experiencing, and if that wasn't enough to irritate his already foul mood, the announcement of a passenger registration check certainly was. Of course, the one time he went against the spit-fire warrior's regulations it would come back to bit him in the ass. Typical.

The man seated across the compartment from him was clearly under the same stressors, as he'd transformed from a rather shady looking character to an absolute manic fiend at the simple announcement chime. Stark grey irises darting around in a desperate search for escape. There wasn't any, that, Natsu had already assessed. Unless you wanted to fling yourself off a moving train, your options were to wait until the train staff asked for your non-existent identification or pray to all things holy that today was your luckiest day on earth. Neither of which Natsu was keen on, but he was banking on the latter. The man (Who Natsu assumed went by Dan Straight, as identified by the printed tag hanging from his luggage handle. A complete rookie mistake for an un-registered that he probably would have judged if not for being trapped in the same situation.) began to shake violently as the initial shock dulled, raising his twitching fingers to kneed at his face in a disturbing manner. When he noticed the fire mage staring the whites of his eyes stretched to his brows and Natsu could practically see the connection through Dan's gaze as he realized they were one and the same.

"You have to help me." He whispered pleadingly from across the aisle, leaning to wrap his bruised fingers around the upholstered armrest. His hood had fallen back slightly to reveal matted brown locks and a forehead creased with worry. Black lines were smeared down the outer corner of his eyes as if he had attempted to expand the shape or had previously spent multiple hours crying while wearing black liner. Dan seemed strange enough for both.

Natsu shook his head slowly and gestured for the man to shut the fuck up. The last thing he needed was for a scene to be caused before meeting the seemingly inevitable guillotine. "Please," Dan tried again, ignoring the warning and raising his volume steadily. "They'll really kill me this time!" He lunged forward, grasping onto the dragon slayer's arm and flailed dramatically. "You can't just leave me to die!" People were starting to look now, passengers straining their necks for a view of the wild man spouting a tale of murder.

"Get off of me." Natsu hissed, ripping his forearm away. Dan's nails were unkept and jagged, leaving clear stripes of red across his tan skin. This, he considered to be very minuscule when compared to the train staff whose outlines were becoming visible through the small compartment-door window. "You're going to get us both killed." He sprang forward again, folding himself around Natsu's leg like a toddler in full tantrum. A mantra spilling from his chapped lips that he had money to pay and valuable rewards to gift if his life was saved. Though, based strictly on his appearance, he didn't look to have a penny to his name. Not that it mattered anyway. The compartment door rattled unmistakably as it slid open, revealing two tired-looking service staff followed by the fantastic addition of not one, but four armed (Not that he'd ever seen one without.) royal guards. They were quick to notice the commotion, hightailing it to the back of the cabin, which Natsu could only assess as not great.

Dan screeched like a frightened cat, flinging himself backwards until he was pressed against the wall, hands spread and knees shaking. "This crazy mage attacked me!" He stammered through his chattering teeth, his words fuelling the blind panic Natsu was currently running on. Honestly, this couldn't be a worse morning, and it wasn't even dawn yet. His excuses continued pooling around his feet, his voice cracking with pressure and flipping tones. The expression cemented on the officer's faces only confirming they were less than impressed.

A proper-looking woman with hair that reminded him of tangerines stood wearily from a few seats away, her eye's delicate as she scanned the dragon-slayer fondly before teetering over to one of the steel-plated officers. With a swift finger, she tapped his silver breastplate and confessed what she had really seen happen in a brief manner. The officer, a stout-looking man that seemed like he'd rather be anywhere else, thanked the woman curtly before moving forward to front Natsu. The royal dog's beady eyes tore over him, pausing momentarily on his bloody arm that was beginning to stain his overcoat and Natsu prayed to everything he didn't believe in that his body wouldn't flinch under the scrutiny. He prepared for the worst, attempting to clear his mind in case he had to fly into action with a second's notice. Instead, he was awarded a subtle nod in which he could barely return as he stood there in utter confusion. The guard completely disregarded him, turning in favour of a squirming Dan who whined on def ears about his innocence. The enforcement swarmed him, blocking him into a corner and demanding proof of ticket and identification. The wild mage spurred in fear, his body taking on a morbid glow as he lurched for the underside of his seat where a dented shield had been notably stored away. However, uncharacteristically the stout man moved faster, drawing his blade at the first sign of Dan's unnatural glow and thrust it forward in a well-timed step, completely shredding the terrified man's throat and leaving him to drop lifelessly to the panelled floor with nothing but a suffocated whimper. The guards seemed unfazed, moving without hesitation to clear the body, and the unnaturally calm statement the stout officer provided the rest of the passengers did little if anything to soothe their alarmed demeanour. Though, one after the other, they regained their composure, seating themselves to whisper of bravery and justice. Words that turned Natsu's stomach worse than any train had ever achieved, hoping to never understand how people could so easily overlook needless death.

"You alright son?" The same officer questioned, refocusing his attention back on the fire mage. "You got a little roughed up there."

"S'fine." Natsu forced out, disregarding that he most certainly did not feel fine. He was presented with a pitied look and clearly rehearsed monologue about protecting the people of Fiore, explaining further that a medic office would be just to the left of the terminal once they reached the station, and that he'd be happy to accompany if need be. Attempting to come across thankful, Natsu declined, throwing in a strong smirk to sweeten the deal. With a polite smile, the man left him be, exiting the front of the cabin in which he'd arrived. It took a fair moment for the dragon-slayer to re-compose himself enough to reclaim his seat, and another before he realized they hadn't even asked him for identification. He wanted to feel relieved, but the atmosphere in the compartment felt far too "normal" as if everyone was ignorant of the body being flung from the back of the train in complete disregard. Blind to the blood splattered across the floorboards, the walls, luggage... everything. Including Natsu's face, as he finally came to notice while streaking a hand across it, smearing it. For the remainder of the trip, he sat silently, swaying with slight nausea, drenched in the sent of Dan's blood. A slightly mocking tone repeating "Welcome home." against his skull.

Obviously, Natsu decided against his suggested medical advice, his movements swift and ignored as he swept through the exiting crowd with intentions on the station's exit. Magnolia was just as he'd left it, the air thick with morning baking, encased in a freshness only the area could provide. Cobblestone streets laid as they were in his mind, every corner memorized, every structure noted. And Nostalgia? She was a bitch, to say the very least; Slamming into his chest with no regard for his current mental state. To say he missed this place would be a rather gross understatement, the pull to return stiched to his every skin fibre. He shouldn't have left, but he'd known that from the start. Although, back then, he hadn't known how to stay. He'd forgotten how to look people in the eye. He'd forgotten how to look at her... And only the stars knew how franticly he was trying to remember. He wasn't ready to go back, and as he approached the most familiar clearing in his life, he wished profusely that he had more time.

Apparently, he'd also forgot about the cat hidden away in his bag, which was rather startling in itself considering he was bright blue and talked. Happy's questioning mew of his name propelling him a good foot into the air with freight. He was again thankful that he hadn't been forced to fight for his life back on the train, as he seemed well out of it today.

"Is it safe for me?" His animal friend tested, poking his ears from under the leather bag flap. "It sounded scary earlier."

"Ya, it was," Natsu mumbled, exhaling a heavy breath and removing his pack to unhinge the cover. "But it's okay now, you can come out. Nobody will see you here." Happy practically pounced on him, scurrying up his arm to perch on his shoulder. His little cat eyes growing twice their usual size as he took in the environment.

"This place still smells like Lucy." Happy announced giddily, taking a prolonged sniff of the air. "Do you think she still reads out here?"

The dragon slayer grunted, feeling a wave of guilt crash over him at the sound of her name. "I dunno, maybe." Her scent was old, stale by a few days at least, but still prominent enough to notice. A gentle musk sweeter than honey embedded into tree bark and dusted over every rocky surface. He'd done his best to avoid thinking about her during his journey home, but now, surrounded by her hazed scent he stood no chance. She was plastered to the forefront of his mind like gel adhesive, mutilating his already dishevelled brain. She alone wasn't his only anxiety regarding coming home, but yes, she was undoubtedly most of it. The night he'd left had been awful. He'd fucked up, after a series of fuck ups, and she let him know just that. She screamed at him like she'd never done, cheeks flushed and every hurtful thought she'd ever had spilling from her quaking lip. He hadn't gone to her room with the intention of kissing her and had honestly been just as surprised as her. God, she'd just looked so... Etherial? Golden hair tossed with sleep, but her lux eyes wired. Her exterior, porcelain skin draped casually in one of his old button-downs, moonlight banking off the plane of her exposed chest betrayed her grit and leaving her appearance vulnerable, fragile. Natsu wasn't dumb, he knew she was beautiful. Lucy was always beautiful, even a blind man could see that. But to describe what he witnessed then, with beautiful? It would be an insult. At that moment, even after months of ungracefully avoiding her, he'd never felt closer to her. Of course, she'd reacted negatively, because what sane person wouldn't after the way he'd been treating her. He saw how much it bothered her when he disappeared for hours or left on missions without her. And then, he'd gone and left her for a little over a year. To be fair, he had meant to tell her about this absence, but clearly, he'd gotten distracted. Not that he'd ever known himself to think clearly about anything regarding the blonde. She was his only thought pre-departure, which troubled him greatly for his childhood best friend had just passed and his sole focus had shifted from grief to a crush he didn't know how to approach.

"Natsu? I think this is for you..." Happy whispered from the edge of the clearing, completely jolting his thought process. He hadn't noticed the cat surrender his shoulder in favour of exploring and began to get rather irritated over how spaced out he was acting. Happy sat curled in on himself, eye's wired to a newly placed stone. Edges sanded by hand and base painted with intricate flames. Red melting with gold in thick layers over the smoothed surface.

I miss you.

And god, if he thought he'd been experiencing guilt before, it couldn't compare to the emptiness that was devouring him. The ground had been turned more recently in front of the headstone, showing she'd actually dug a metaphorical resting place for him just as he'd done for Lissana. "I thought you told her we were leaving for a bit, Natsu?"

"I meant too..." He mumbled sheepishly. "I kinda mixed thing's up the night we left."

His blue friend turned, ears drawn forward in sorrow, "Did we make her sad?"

Natsu stepped back slightly, eyeing the gravestone for everything it was worth before scooping his cat to nestle in his arms. "I hope not." He offered, knowing his words held no power. Did she really think he was dead? It was true he hadn't made any effort to contact her, or anyone from the guild for that matter, but to label him deceased felt so final. Had everyone collectively agreed he wasn't worth waiting around for? His hands shook and he cursed himself for how anxious he'd become over a situation he alone had created. Would she be relieved he was alive? Shaking his head and stepping forward with a heavy exhale, he continued towards the castle base. Attempting to put Makarov at the forefront of his priority list.

The hour was still young, the morning rays scarcely coasting over the hilled landscape as he entered FairyTail's grand hall, and almost immediately regretted his choice in entrance. He'd become accustomed to Sabertooth's relaxed mornings over the year, a certain fair-haired woman that liked an early start on breakfast slipping his mind. But the morning hues leaking from the stained glass illuminated her too brightly to ignore. Mira stood just past the swaying kitchen doors, a crate of fruit wedged between her delicate arms and an expression of pure disbelief painted over her rosy face. Breath caught in her throat like she'd just been thrown to the ground and fingers twitching under the weight of her supplies. Though a year had barely passed, she looked older, eye's more slated and dull than when he had last seen her. Natsu tried to summon up a greeting but his voice cracked with anxious pressure, startling Mira and causing her to drop the wooden box in favour of rubbing her rapidly blinking eyes.

"You alright Mira?" Laxus's strong tone carried from the kitchen, voice thick with concern over the box clattering against the stone floor. The fire-mage begrudgingly tore his eyes away from the woman at his front to focus on the doors behind her, which opened right on cue. The burly lightning manipulator barreling through to assess the situation before coming to a halt beside his wife. "Oh shit," Was all he offered but it seemed to be enough confirmation for Mira to realize that she wasn't hallucinating. Tears began streaming over her flushed cheeks, lip caught between her teeth, shivering under the ferocity of her sob. A whole new level of panic overtook Natsu, as he'd never been directly exposed to her crying, and when she sprang towards him he couldn't help but take a step back. He expected a smothering hug of one form or another but instead was greeted by the shocking sting of her palm connecting with his jaw. The slap echoing off the aged walls like a church sonnet to mock him further. She'd never been violent towards him, and it took him completely off guard. When she began to wind up for another swing he did nothing, merely closing his eyes to wait out her justified anger. The hit never came, her soft fingers only tracing over the smear of Dan's blood across his cheek.

"It's not mine." He attempted to justify, brushing her hand away. But the pain dancing with her irises darkened, another sob controlling her frame until she curled in on herself. Slender fingers toying with the hem of her burgundy gown.

"Where have you been... Natsu?" Her soft voice wavered. "No reports, no lacrima calls, not even a letter. Where did you go?"

He ran a hand through his roused hair, guilt overtaking his movements. "I was with Sabertooth," He started, choosing his words carefully. "Spying on the Royal court with Erza." He felt it important not to give too much away, not to spook her more than needed.

"Are you back to stay?" She pressed rather coldly, taking a step back. Her eyes, soppy and blurred remained trained on him, scouting his movements like she was unsure of his intentions. Her pale hand was begging to redden, bruising after such a long hiatus from fieldwork. She placed it delicately over the swell of her stomach. The gesture baffled him further as he'd yet to notice the very obvious child growing within her. His composure relaxed noticeably, Mira's stern gaze growing softer.

"Ya, I think so Mira." He huffed through rushed breaths. Attention focused closely on the woman's stomach. He gave her a moment to smile before asking how far along she was, shuddering at Laxus's proud reply of 6 months. Natsu tried not to dwell over the moments he'd missed, instead, congratulating the couple on their new addition. He attempted to keep his face as plain as he could while explaining he needed to find the Master quickly. Mira looked rather disappointed but with the promise he would return to 'catch up', she directed him towards Mocorav's tower.

Natsu needed a cigarette; This he decided while trying to steady his trembling fingers, pressing them into the hem of his black cargo pants. The guild, still quiet with sleep swallowing his confidence with every step. Happy had disappeared some time ago in favour of finding Wendy and Carla, preferring his other feline friend overpacking. His mind was still reeling, all new information for the day seemed accompanied with a grain of salt. Mira would make a good mother, that he knew for sure, but it made him feel all the more uneasy with the news he had come to deliver. The Royal Calvary was coming, marching as he did now. They knew Fairy Tails location, or so one of Jellal's many informants had claimed. The rumour could be false, but the chance was far too great with so many lives on the line. He had no idea how far along the military group had travelled, Jellal estimating they had a few days at most.

Master Makarov was awake, much to Natsu's surprise; The man tending to sleep longer as he aged. His disciplined face never faulting as he listened to the dragon slayers grim tones.

"Who all knows about this?" He replied simply.

Natsu eyed the man slowly, leaning against the stone-framed fireplace with crossed arms. "Erza," he stated, "Sting and Rouge too, maybe a few trusted others from Sabertooth. They've gone to set up a camp near their hall. Erza said you would know the spot." Just as he'd done with Mira, he chose his words carefully. Jellal's name purposely dropped from the tale as affiliation with him typically was for the worse. Natsu wouldn't go as far as saying he trusted the guy, but Erza did, and that was enough for him.

"Alright, I want to do this quickly and quietly, the less panic that occurs the better," Makarov grumbled, lifting himself from his desk chair. "I'll speak with Laxus, we'll spread the word that we're changing locations over breakfast. We can depart tomorrow's sunrise."

Natsu nodded, rolling out his shoulders and releasing a shaky breath. "Do you know where Lucy is?" He mumbled, "I can't smell her, I want to let her know what's going on."

Makarov looked towards him with a face of discomfort, before turning to favour his hanging overcoat. "She's away with work, due back two days ago I believe."

Natsu shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to calm the shake he had just accomplished in steadying a few minutes prior. Eyes involuntarily darting in search of exit points as his anxiety grew. The stress level for today had been climbing steadily since he'd first opened his eyes, and stressing about Lucy, in particular, had always done awful things to him. "Maybe you could go pack her things for her since you used to be so close and all." The older man finished, placing his coat over himself. Natsu nodded again, spinning on his heel abruptly in the direction of the dorms.

At least five minutes passed while Natsu stood outside her door. The golden door plate embedded with scrolled characters stopping him in his tracks. Lucy. He hadn't seen her in so long yet he could worry about her like it was yesterday. Was she hurt? Had she run into the royal guard while travelling home? Maybe a similar train situation had occurred like this morning. He knew he had no place to worry about her, not after leaving her for so long. But he couldn't help himself, her scent wafting through the oak door propelling images of her in his mind. Lucy was a strong woman, she could typically handle herself, but the thought of the last time he'd seen her in action left a bad taste in his mouth.

He tried to distract himself, fumbling around to light a cigarette in the dim hue of the hall. The exhale felt exquisite, the craving burns finally satisfied. Nicotine supplementing enough confidence for him to open her door. Though he immediately regretted entering, nostalgia once again stealing his breath. Her room was kept tidy, windows sealed and curtains drawn. All her books and personal items stashed away from eyesight. No pictures or tapestry's hung from her wall as they did in Mira's room, and her bed wasn't over-occupied with plush toys as Lissanas had once been. Lucy claimed she didn't like clutter, that it made her feel disorganized. Natsu however, suspected the blonde had trouble claiming a space for her own after so many years on the run. This had never bothered him as he always assumed she would out-grow the habit the more comfortable with the guild she became. But looking upon her empty walls he felt just as such. It turned out, her fear of never settling was still very real. All Natsu had ever given her was another home to run from.

With a deep exhale, Natsu tried to focus on his task, least he continue staring at the bed Lucy very obviously hadn't been sleeping in pre-departure. Her sheets folded neatly at the head of her exposed mattress, pillow's lacking their cases, tucked just off to the side. Her scent on the fabric nearly faded compared to some of her more recently worn clothing. He didn't want to think about who's bed she'd been spending her nights in, nor who she deemed worthy of her days. With a hearty grown he faced the closet, grabbing what he figured to be essential attire. Skipping over some of her more scandalous sets in the hope she wouldn't be too sour considering the circumstances. Except for the little red skirt he used to love, for no reason in particular, of course. He tried his best to pack her leather-bound trunk the way she would, mimicking her structure for their many travels. With her room and ensuite cleared, Natsu departed in favour of his own dwelling. The thought of Lucy's old feather-downs tracing his mind. She used to store them at the back of his closet, at least, before he left. And with the lurking uncertainty of when their guild would find a new base, he didn't want her to freeze through the colder months.

Spinning the metal nob of his door, Natsu wasn't sure what he'd been expecting come his return home, but the state of his room took him completely aback. Drawers he'd left in ruin sat repositioned on their sliders, abandoned clothes hung clean and pressed in his wardrobe and his forgotten cigarettes lay positioned neatly on his desk. But what shook him the most, was the smell. Lucy's scent, stronger than her own room; Cascading over his walls to lather his belongings, invading his every pore. His old sheets recently washed, made up his bed. The bed that too clearly showed where his missing blonde had been sleeping. Curled up in his blankets, wearing his button-downs below the covers. He could do nothing but collapse atop the same frame, chest heavy and heaving. Eye's casting to the back of his wardrobe where Lucy's garments no longer hung. He really had been gone too long.

Natsu remained motionless until Mira knocked on his door to announce breakfast with the expectation of a yes and a prompt follow. She requested he help serve the food, noting that everyone would be excited to see his face. Begrudgingly he agreed, stopping only to let Mira scrub the remnants of Dan from his cheek. He hadn't known the man, but watching his porcelain basin cast crimson as she rang her cloth turned his insides in a way they hadn't spun since leaving.

He tried his best to sport a cheerful grin towards his guildmate's calls of greeting and question, faltering only twice while serving everyone. The first had been on account of Levy's expression, a mix of sadness and relief painted over her features. The only words from her lips questioning if Lucy had heard from him yet. She didn't hide her disappointment when he shook his head, but chose not to question him further which he was grateful for. The second was when Juvia entered the hall looking nothing of herself. Sunken cheeks and bruised eyelids, a mangled frame stepping where her body used to reside. He tried to collect himself before she noticed his quizzical stare but stood blank when she threw him a week smile. She sauntered towards him, wooden cane pressed tightly in her grip. She asked him about his trip, stumbling over her words like her mind couldn't focus on a single sentence. He answered the best her could without giving too much away, knowing everyone would be updated shortly.

The morning wasted away rapidly, Natsu finding himself absorbed in the rain woman's story's of times he had missed. Apparently, she had been poisoned while out working with Gray, a virus that riddled away at her body and mind for months. He knew the situation didn't involve him, but he couldn't help the guilt soak through his pores, a feeling he was gathering was here to linger for a while to come. He should have been there for his friends, especially Gray who he'd known long enough to guess he was coping poorly. He tried to express his sympathy but Juvia practically snorted, claiming she didn't need his pity and that she was recovering fine. She didn't recoil tho, jumping straight into another story about helping Mira plan her nursery.

It was calming to hear her speak, a conversation that didn't revolve around planning for survival. It felt normal, to sit in the dining hall talking of paint colours and stuffed animals. Watching Juvia smile with ignorance of how her skin stretched over her sunken features. Listening to the dull clatter of dishware mixing with hearty laughter; his guildmates enjoying their morning coffee and bread. He longed to fall into the warmth of familiar scenery, curl up atop a wooden table with the voices of his friends streaming through his ears. Life, however, was unfair as he'd grown to learn. A lesson that had prepared him not to panic when these moments slipped away quickly. Thus, he tried to remain stoic when the hall's grand doors were thrown open, startling gasps replacing the casual chimes of the interior.

There Gray stood, alive and breathing; face awash with pure anxiety and pain. He looked rugged, blood matted through his hair like he'd been crawling through trenches. Shirt tossed aside leaving his chest exposed, a clean blade stripe painted over his torso. "We've been found!" He screeched, waving his bruised arms above his head. "Everybody, please! We need to leave!" Nobody moved, for a moment, the tone of begging so foreign on the Ice mage's tongue stunning the crowd.

Natsu's brain fell into full flight mode, straightening his spine and propelling him forward. He was about to call out, urging everyone to head Grays words and fucking move, but he too remained frozen; a woman peering over his dear friend's shoulder catching his full attention.

She looked worried, a wrinkle creasing her smooth forehead as she scrunched her brows. Her hair was longer, golden tresses framing her waist with soft curls. Brown eyes glazed with honey soaking up her surroundings before stopping over him, drinking him in for all he was worth. Her expression dissolved, masking her delicate features with a look of horror. Plump lips coiling to pronounce his name. Her voice was all he could make out over the commotion. Lucy was back, commanding his full attention like the world wasn't about to crumble around them.

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

#Nalu #nalu fanfic #nalu fanfiction #natsu #natsu dragneel #lucy #lucy heartfilia #fan fiction #fanfic #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #fairytail #erza #happy #sting eucliffe #dan

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goonlalagoon · 3 years

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We start small || Leagues and Legends

A series rewrite AU for @ink-splotch‘s fantastic Leagues and Legends books.

Spoilers for the whole trilogy below!

Read on Ao3

When George was fifteen, her village left her out for a dragon. The blacksmith slipped a knife up her sleeve as they went, and in the press of bodies she couldn't ask him why. She could only guess at what mercy he was handing her. The villagers would live with shame under their tongues for the rest of their lives, but they would live. The dragon ruled the hillside, great and golden, scales bright against the purple lupins that bloomed there every year, and they pretended it was fear that made them shudder at the sight.

Maybe Jack still survived the bandits who attacked the merchant caravan he was travelling with. Maybe he travelled on with them, bounced from place to place until he found a cause to throw himself into, on some distant shore far from the Forest where he had grown up. Maybe he didn't, one fourteen year old boy with no training and no battlefield experience, just a big heart and a bit of luck on his side.

There was no Dragon Slayer. It would be years before someone earned the old title Giantkiller, and it wouldn't be a red headed forest boy who tried to stand tall under the weight of that history.

Liam Jones powered the towns and villages of the mountains for weeks. The Seeress was almost blind with the burning light that drifted up through the floor, and the afterimage it left behind when it finally winked out was almost worse. There were no tales in the mountains of the Pied Piper.

Beatrice Tanner would never know any of their names.

On the day when in another life she might have opened her door and let a third soul into her shuttered heart, Bea woke as always before the sun to put the bread on to rise, and while the ovens warmed she rolled her dog eared map out over the old wooden table and traced her fingers over hidden paths and scant shelters. She had a network, small but growing, owed petty favours and moments of kindness. She had a list of lives saved, and a list of those she knew were at risk and could possibly be convinced to leave. She had a list of losses, a bitter sting under her tongue and a cold motivator to keep trying.

People still didn't believe her warnings, most of the time. They hushed her for telling children to be careful, to be hidden, and she did it anyway whenever she saw gold glittering in the corner of her eye, when she saw children play with sparks that didn't burn. Maybe they wouldn't believe her, but maybe they'd check over their shoulder anyway. Maybe the children would curl their hands into little fists and ignore the skin of the world pressing in on them, scared by this woman who hissed nightmares at them in the street. She didn't want children to be afraid, but she wanted them to be safe, and when there was a monster on the loose fear was what kept you alive.

She said as much, one day at a market, snapping warnings at children and glaring at the uniformed man who'd asked her what she was scaring children for. She had no patience for coddling, and she had little for the Bureau either. But this one blinked at her, and scratched at his clean shaven chin.

"Stealing mages? Say, d'you mind repeating all this to Sarge? He's the boss of our League, and this sounds like something we should know about." Bea eyed him suspiciously, but the possibility of getting more people to help outweighed her faint distaste for the Leagues.

It was only a few weeks later that May told her that it was really just May, not short for anything despite what the Bureau paperwork said. Bea wasn't quite sure whether this was a sign of trust or of just how much May wanted to get out of her padded armour and into something that didn't chafe quite as much on the healing gash down her side.

Sarge had sent coded reports back to headquarters, and was glaring at the responses. Flash was twisting his fingers, safe with his training and his league, staring sleepless at the ceiling with visions of those who weren’t keeping him awake. They couldn’t give themselves wholly to this cause; the Rangers had a job to do and it was one that badly needed doing - but part of their job was to keep people safe from monsters, so when they left they took some of her gathered information with them, and kept their eyes open.

They sent her news, dropped by the markets they knew she liked to give her the names of people who had helped, people who believed them when they whispered warnings. They sent people to her, frightened or angry or numb, but always desperate, and she sent them on. She didn't ask anyone to be a hero, because heroes were for stories and legends, for Bureau badges and official postings. She just asked people for a little bit of help, and then they offered it again and again.

It was over a year after she met them that they sent her the Giantkiller.

Kay had thick ropes of scarring over his side and arm, the pockmarks of claws pressed deep into his shoulder. He was a child when rocs tried to carry him off, struggling and screaming. He was lucky - the Rangers heard the commotion and brought the beast down, two arrows in its heart, a net of golden fire to catch him as he fell, to pour into gaping wounds and knit flesh back together. When they had to stay camped out for a day while the mage weathered an Elsewhere storm, their Guide showed him how to mix a paste to help the scars heal out of ingredients he could find within an hour’s walk of home.

His father's fury when he said after they left that he wanted to be a Leaguesman too was a burning thing, a bitter thing. He jerked his head down the road the Rangers left by, and listed every time they could have been of use before one lucky day. Kay fiddled with his spoon, because it was true - but that was the point of joining up, wasn't it? To be the person who was there when he was needed. But his father was bitter, furious, so he held his tongue.

When his father was out working in the field and Kay was supposed to be chopping wood, he fenced the air with a stick for a sword the way he'd watched May and Sarge practice in the early morning, as they let Flash sleep late to regain his strength and they kept a wary eye out for any returning rocs. He stumbled over his own feet and knew he was no good.

When he was younger, he'd practiced with his sling until his fingers blistered, and his father smiled over the small game he brought in, the crows he scared away from the crops with a sharp stone to the claws. Kay practiced still, every day, and now he imagined bigger targets.

The rocs came again, as they did every year, and one tried to carry off not a child but the neighbours' sheep. Kay sent it crashing back to the ground. Its neck snapped as it landed and he stood over it, shaking and fierce and frightened. The men arrived at a run from the barn, and Kay's father looked proud and scared and bitter.

"You see?" He said, later, when they’d butchered the carcass and he was watching Kay sort the feathers he'd asked to keep. "Rocs every damn year, and no Leagues here to help."

Kay hummed, non-committal, thinking but I was.

He was too young for the Leagues anyway, he knew. But he wasn't too young to help, so when there were rumours of Things haunting the woods nearby he slipped out his window in the grey dusk and went hunting. He had a handful of mage spelled stones, even if they were spelled for gentle warmth not damage, a gift from Flash to help ease the ache in healing limbs. The Things shrieked like the stones burned, and he was sick behind a bush afterward but the nest was gone, and Things shriek but he'd heard the families who’s homes were closer to the woods than his weeping too, and he knew which he'd choose. His father was pacing when he got home in the soft light of dawn, and he knew without asking where Kay had been. He knew what Kay was making himself into and he was furious and so scared, but Kay couldn't go back to waiting for someone else to save his people.

Kay set out the next morning, when his father was already out in the fields, working off his anger on the weeds. He packed a satchel of food and clothes, his sling and pouches of stones. He slipped the little carved flute his father made for his last birthday into the side of his bag, and set off down the road, refusing to look back.

When he met the Rangers again, it was in the shadow of a giant, the wreckage of a village. They were too late to help bring it down, but they found him digging through the fallen buildings for survivors. Sarge glanced at the sling at his hip first and Kay tensed. They were already whispering about him, the survivors, about the Giantkiller and his sling, and he knew the price of being a vigilante. Sarge said nothing, just gripped the other end of the beam he was trying to lift, hauling it up so Kay could drag the wounded boy underneath into the light.

They had a hushed conference, the Rangers and the Giantkiller, carefully out of sight because they could only shirk this particular duty if no one knew. May shook her head over him but bullied him through a basic staff work drill. Sarge watched, and nodded thoughtfully when Flash muttered "think the Baker could use a field agent?"

His story rolled ahead of him, growing as he went. He cleared a nest of Things in one village and took down another roc in a narrow pass, had a brief run in with bandits that he barely survived. He helped stock a woodpile for a hot meal and repaired a fence for another. There hadn't been a Giantkiller in the memory of anyone younger than his grandmother, and he listened to the old stories that were being dusted off. He hoped no one expected him to live up to all of them.

Bea heard him out, polite but not friendly, and he tried not to shuffle in his seat under her level gaze. She shrugged, eventually, and let him tag along as she smuggled a woman and her sister through the checkpoints in her cart. Kay tucked his sling out of sight and played a sullen teenager for all he was worth so that she could scold him loudly and the guards would shake their heads over the disruption instead of searching through the carefully stacked flour bags.

Someone wrote to her a week later saying they had a wyvern problem - people had long since started writing to the Baker for any help they needed and couldn’t afford from official sources, to see if she knew someone who could help. She sent Kay as a response, and he came back with a burn on his leg and pockets full of scales, scrubbed clean - but he came back. She grew to expect it, became used to keeping his room ready and leaving space at the table for him.

The first time he broke into the Graves' keep, he slipped out of the bakery after she'd gone to bed. They hadn't reached these ones in time, and he'd watched the way her shoulders fell and her lips thinned when he came back too soon, no rescues in his wake and no stories about how he'd helped them escape. He'd looked at her map, and thought but I'm still here.

The keep was easy to break into, because no one else was fool enough to try, and the Seeress was still working her way into her father's toolkit. He'd never held a lock pick but he knew how to remove hinges from a wall so he opened the doors that way, until one of the terrified mages shook off the stupor and started melting through them for him. They fled, and he scrawled the ward diagrams Flash had sent to Bea in the dirt for his rescues to copy with the sparks of power that were left to them. They had suspicions, Bea and the Rangers, dark thoughts about how their foe was finding prey so easily. They had wards that would cloud them from the sight of a seer, briefly, enough to break a trail, and they worked.

Kay led them to the bakery, where Bea fed them and sent them on, and when the house was empty again she wrapped her arms around Kay and hissed don't you dare do that again, don't you dare Kay, you don't disappear on me. He nodded and promised, but they both knew he meant he wouldn't slip away in the night. Kay was young, true, but he wasn't a fool. He could promise not to go without a word, but he couldn't promise he'd come back.

There was no Dragon Slayer, no Piper, a different Giantkiller - but it had never been just about those three friends. They were the ones whose legends were told, but theirs had never been the only hands buried in this war.

In a different village, there was a girl with the Elsewhere pulling gently on her bones. Kay took a warning, because if he and Bea had heard of her then so would the Graves’, and her sister narrowed her eyes at him as she went pale with fear. For all that he was the messenger not the threat, Kay took an instinctive half step back. "If anyone thinks they're taking my sister, they're going to get what's coming to them."

Rosie and Susie had friends, and those friends had already lost people to the machines, vanishing in the night and dropping out of contact. When Kay warned them, told them what he knew, they listened. They planned. When slavers came in the night, Elsewhere cracks tucked in their pockets, they thought this would be easy. The Seeress had seen an orphan girl with magic. If she had seen anything else, it had been shadowy faces with nothing to make them stand out. This is the peril of a Seer; you fall into the habit if thinking that if you don't see something it can't matter.

Slavers came in the night, and never left.

They started calling them Snow White and Rose Red, these sisters with deep roots in the mountain soil who grit their teeth and refused to run, refused to hide. Theirs was a mountain village, no Bureau-sanctioned guard and no walls to defend them, so they built their own. Bea smuggled out every person unwilling to become a civilian soldier, who wanted safety not defiance, and the rest built a fortress.

Kay helped, hands familiar with hammer and nails, the cost of freedom. He made friends, not just with the sisters but with Doc and his sons, the taciturn blacksmith and his two apprentices, the cheerful woman who ran the inn and the cynical one who presided over the fledgling community garden, with a few scattered kids his own age with fire in their veins and fear in their eyes.

(Or was it fear that ran in their blood, twitching at shadows and hearts pounding when they woke at night, and fire in their eyes, a stubborn, worn down fury?)

They named it Challenge, carved it deep over the main gate, a name and a purpose.

Their first siege had been a holding action in the mines, Doc and his sons collapsing tunnels and digging new ones until winter came on and forced the Graves' soldiers back to their own walls. The vigilantes stayed in the mines, huddled together for warmth and comfort, elated and terrified at their own victory. Rosie and Susie roamed the passages, after, speaking to everyone and inviting a selection to a council - Kay was invited too, and sat awkwardly listening to them lay plans for rebuilding, how to build sturdy walls the moment the snows cleared enough. Their second came days after they carved Challenge over the gate, while Kay was still getting all of the sawdust out of his hair.

He went back to the bakery afterward, to pour over maps with Bea and be sent out on missions. They couldn't save everyone. They couldn't save most people, but some was better than none. Kay stared at the ceiling through long, sleepless nights, trying to convince himself that it was okay that he couldn't work miracles. People knew him by sight, now, and some days he didn’t feel he should be looking over his shoulder whenever they called out Giantkiller!

It was a long, slow war, their quiet campaign against the Graves family. Bea’s network grew and grew, despite their heavy losses - mages who escaped and ones who didn’t, the non-magical casualties who weren’t quick enough with a lie or a dodge, or were simply unlucky. Susie and Rosie were a fierce pair, exchanging razor sharp letters with Bea to plan out strategies and contingencies.

(It wasn’t until after his third siege at Challenge that Kay would realise that Bea had never actually met either of the sisters; she had never met Marian, either, but they had never communicated directly so it was easier to recall. The sisters and the Baker sent word back and forth for years, but barely knew anything of each other outside of their shared plans besides what he could pass on - for all that Bea would like to see Challenge, there was bread to bake and travel could be dangerous. Better not to give the Seeress any reason to look again at this sleepy village that she and hers had already gutted for fuel.)

Kay was no natural physician, but he helped to wrap bandages in Doc Frederickson’s infirmary whenever he was in Challenge, between meetings and sentry duty. In the streets and villages people expected him to be a hero; in the infirmary, Doc just expected him to be useful. He cracked bad jokes as distraction, fetched water, and peered over a bewildered man’s shoulder at a neat formula that someone had stumbled through the gates clutching. She didn’t remember where she’d found it, but it had been tucked into the lining of her coat. There was a note on the front in her own handwriting, for all she didn’t recall writing it - My first rabbit was called Snowball, and this is real, not a joke.

Doc’s hand shook so badly that he had to put the unfolded note down before he dropped it. Kay clutched the edge of the desk hard enough to hurt, looking between the message and the woman sat on the edge of an infirmary cot, gold dripping sluggishly from her fingertips to pool on the fabric. It would stain, leaving smudged hand-prints on the sheets and faintly in the mattress below, but they would consider it a miracle not a nuisance. She was sitting, fingertips trembling but no worse this morning than they had been any day of her journey north. She had been dragged from the cells, away from the machines that should have killed her, and rather than dying grateful for a final view of the sky she had found herself weeks to the South, in a town she hadn’t known and a recipe in her pocket in handwriting she didn’t recognise.

It wasn’t a cure, but it was still something no-one had thought to hope for. It was a medicine, true, but it was also a message: somebody, somewhere, was trying to save their mages too. They weren’t the only ones resisting this blight.

This, too: after that first midnight venture of Kay’s they had never been able to rescue anyone from the Graves’ keep. They had fought to prevent people being taken, rescued people from mage warded wagons, hissed warnings to make people hide or flee. They had built a town, walls and watchtowers, a beacon of resistance. But they had never managed to make their way into the keep itself undetected a second time, for all the desperate families who had tried, for all the curses the Seeress and the Mayor hissed when they found the doors open and cells empty. Kay and Bea would exchange long looks over the bakery table, and wonder who on the inside was setting people free and laying the blame at their convenient feet.

(In a lab none of them had never seen, Jillit Chu was saving life after life of people who she knew would never remember her name, secrets written in invisible letters on her skin when she went home at night. Thorne was pouring over reports, Jill’s own records, Jeremiah’s much less successful and yet officially far more vital analyses, the dispatches from his spies in the mountains. He wanted the Graves family dealt with, of course - but he wanted their secrets, too. Thorne was a Bureau man, and while Mayor Graves was always careful not to upset the Bureau, he was no more affiliated with them than the vigilantes that plagued his operations. It had never been the means of production that Thorne objected to, or the Graves’ would have been out of a business years before.

Spider didn’t know this; Andrew Molina had given years of his life to bring the machines down, weaving a web to tear it all down. He was trying to find a gap in his plans to let Sandry slip through; he knew where Sam had gone even if she didn’t, thought if he could get her out too then there would be a life for her away from the wreckage of her father’s dreams. If he had to, he knew he would let her fall with it and take the regrets, but he was an excellent Bureau agent - he liked his odds for achieving both. He wasn’t reaching out to Sam just yet - they were working to weaken the system, but it was slow work. The Baker and her resistance were an irritation, but they weren’t yet causing enough of a disruption to have materially disrupted production, to have strained the system, to be convincing the less dedicated that this was a fight they were going to lose.

Thorne had other agents, he knew, and they heard things the Spider didn’t. Reports that when put together said that this was going to be the work of more cold years - he measured them in people lost, and tried when those the Seeress saw were children to make sure he was spotted on the road, that whispers spread before him, warnings. He couldn’t let everyone slip away, not if he wanted to bring it all down, but he tried to save as many as he could - he felt every mage who burned for other people’s light as a weight on his shoulders. He kept walking, the Seeress’ right hand man, and did not stumble under that burden.)

Robin Hood died on an otherwise unremarkable winter’s day, stumbling back to the treeline with them, held up as much as their rescues. Marian’s hands didn’t shake as she lit the pyre, and Kay wondered if she would stay that cold for the rest of her life. She left with a handful of the Merry Men, the ones who’d been thinking of warmer pastures or those like her couldn’t stand to be beneath the trees without Robin. Kay wasn’t sure if she was angry at him or the world - Marian wasn’t, either. She had fought sieges at his side, before he begged Robin’s help for the last time; she knew his history, this mountain born boy who became a legend. She wouldn’t write to him or the Baker, but Little John would drop mentions into his occasional messages, and some days she was glad for the news.

When Kay had first stumbled into the Woods, an injured mage leaning on his shoulder and pursuit on his heels, it had been Marian who coolly shot down the armed guard and guided them beneath the trees. She had helped bandage up his rescue, and Robin had dropped down next to him at the fire. Kay wasn’t sure he had ever felt as safe as he did that night, curled up beneath the towering trees with their cheerful assurances that he didn’t need to worry about any armed followers tracking him here, dozing off in a borrowed bed roll on the hard ground. The Merry Men weren’t all kind to outsiders, but they loved Robin and respected Marian - if they were told he was a friend, he was a friend. Kay watched the smoke rise, the snow melting around them, and wondered if Robin would still be alive, if Kay hadn’t thought of him as a friend.

The remaining Merry Men stayed out of the fight, after that, nursing wounds physical and metaphorical, but Little John made it clear that the paths through the trees were still open to Kay and his rescues. More than one trembling mage and their shaken family were escorted safely south by the Merry Men after a night or two beneath the trees.

It was a long war, and Kay measured it first in months rather than days, then years rather than months; the Seeress was spreading her gaze further afield as the mountain villages became wary, as anyone with sparks at their fingertips fled before they needed warning. Kay gained scars from vicious brawls with guards, with the long limbed Spider, a bullet wound in the shoulder that would ache in the cold for the rest of his life from Spider’s deputy.

Kay was by no means the only person fighting this war, but he had become one of the lynchpins, the one who most often acted directly against the Graves’ network - his was the face the Seeress saw most in the wake of plans dissolving like smoke. She had a bespoke curse tucked in a pocket, and one vindictive day she set it loose. Bea watched the Giantkiller turn pale, shaky on feet that a moment before had been steady, and crumple. She caught him before he could hit the ground, and carried him gently to his room. She sent out frantic messages through her network, looking for healers, looking for anyone who could help. After three nights of fever, Little John crept into the bakery, cradling a pouch in his large, gentle hands. He was no trained healer, but he knew old stories, knew how to walk into the shadowed trees on a full moon night and ask for help for the deserving. He did not know what he had done, to mix this medicine, but when the sun had risen it had been in his hands.

Kay spent another three nights tossing and turning, but he woke with the sun on the seventh day. It would take weeks until he felt fully rested, and Little John warned him that full moons would make him restless for the rest of his days. He spent his time sorting Bea’s correspondence and helping her in the bakery, until she declared him fit for field work again. Even then they were wary, cautious. They had no doubts who had sent a curse to strike him down, for all they sneered at the hypocrisy - they watched for any sign that the Seeress had known where to strike, but found nothing amiss.

One morning, Kay woke to the sound of shattering crockery in the bakery below; he was wary, fresh bruises on his knuckles and sleeping light, recently home and still listening for ambushes. He crept downstairs, and found Bea pinned to the wall of her own kitchen with strings of golden fire, the butter dish broken on the floor. The slingstone he pitched through the door landed, but its target had moved in time and took a glancing bruise to the arm rather than a blow to the head. She held up calloused palms, but he could see the gun at her hip and the gold holding Bea in place: he wasn’t fool enough to think that she was anything other than ready to take him down if he moved. She smiled, a precise and practiced thing. “Hello. Apologies for breaking in, but I needed to speak to the Baker and the Giantkiller, and I believe this is the right address?” Her smile turned feral, a fierce grin that looked more at home on her lips. “I’m an agent from the Bureau quiet branch, and I thought you might want to know we’re planning to bring the Graves’ down in a few weeks’ time.”

Bea made a scoffing sound, the gold fire glittering off her eyes, and the woman flicked her fingers to twist the fire into nothing again. Kay itched to go to Bea, check that she was alright, but he knew better. There were two of them and one armed intruder - better to keep her looking in two directions, for all that she seemed to think she was on their side, for all that he had no doubt which of them would win, if it came to a fight. Kay had years of experience, true, but you didn’t make it to being a field agent with the quiet branch without a fearsome skillset to your name.

She eyed their distrust with amused, approving resignation, and patiently laid out the bones of the web she and Spider had been steadily weaving, the tipping point that was coming. Kay frowned at the hints, puzzling out tactics, and Bea traced her fingertips over her map - the markers of lives saved, the ones of lives lost. There was an empty room upstairs she still couldn’t bear to use, years later. Kay did not and would never know that sometimes when Bea woke from nightmares these days they had been about waking to find the house cold and the curtains in his cosy room billowing in the night air, for all that he was no more a mage that she was. She eyed their guest with as much professional disregard as the woman had shown her, breaking into a house warded over the years by careful, grateful hands as though it was nothing.

“And why now? Why are you and yours only tearing down the Graves’ now? We know who you are, Agent, and for all I’ve heard of you you’re in the Graves’ pocket, the Spider’s precious protege.” She curled a lip, a mountain woman from a village that couldn’t afford walls, that had begged and begged for Bureau protection and been told to come back with gold in their pockets. “Why have the Bureau decided that now they can deign to get involved? Why are you here, breaking into my home, to tell me you’ve finally decided to care enough to stop it?”

"They killed my brother," snapped Laney, an old, bitter hurt - and the Baker looked back at her coldly, as though that didn't explain anything at all.

"They've killed a lot of people." The sharpshooter stiffened, hand twitching as though she might have gone for a gun if she hadn’t needed them alive. Bea didn't flinch from the movement, expression hard and unforgiving. "How many have you helped them kill? I could tell you, I think, because I hear almost everyone's story about the ones they lost, sooner or later. Do you know what we call you, when we whisper warnings? What legend did you think you were building, in your brother's memory?"

The Ballad of Agent Jones

Laney Jones had stumbled at her brother’s beloved heels for years, until he left the desert in search of new horizons. Years later, she had followed in his footsteps once again, Academy papers in her pocket and a handful of hard-won fire clutched close to keep her warm on the journey. She was planning to find her big brother, one day. She was going to show him what she could do, what she had made of herself, and she was going to see the pride in his eyes once again. It was a warm thought, one she had clung to through cold nights of hidden practice and long days of doubting her worth.

In her second year at the Academy, armed men broke into the fish shop where her study group were having their first meeting. When Thorne took her aside in the days after, to have a private chat with such a promising young woman, he glanced over her skin tone and the name in his file, and paused. He asked, carefully, if she had any connection to a Liam Jones, another powerful mage he had heard of. Laney beamed with familial pride, and a certain quiet joy that she had been put on the same level as Liam. "My brother, sir. He whistles up his magic, though I never had the knack for it."

Thorne called her in again a week later, for another chat, but his face was serious and even the glint of his glasses seemed subdued. There was a thin file on his desk, L. Jones scrawled on the outside. Laney's heart froze, because she knew there was no reason for the Bureau to have files on her, not yet.

"I am sorry, miss Jones, but Liam Jones died almost seven years ago, in the mountains." He pushed the file towards her, sympathy but not pity in his voice. "There are people there who - deal in mages. It seems that there was no one to warn him to hide." He pressed a clean handkerchief into her hand and went to fetch water for the kettle. He could have called for someone to bring them tea, but Thorne understood that people sometimes needed a moment alone with their grief.

The contents of the file had been heavily redacted, because the work of the Bureau quiet branch investigating the trade in mages was an ongoing thing, and a sister's grief didn't give you rights to all of the carefully gathered details. But there were a few stark lines that were intact - a description, a date of capture. A short summary of a doomed escape attempt that made her smile with fierce, pained pride. A date of death.

What had she been doing, that day? Where had she been, when her brother's song vanished from the world?

Thorne made her tea and made no comment on her damp eyelashes, told her she could speak to him at any time if she felt she needed someone who was aware of the situation to listen. He asked for her family's contact details, so that he could write to tell them the terrible news personally. He straightened the papers on his desk and promised to tell her when he sent it, in case she wanted to write as well, but he said that it shouldn't be her job to break it to them unless she wanted it to be.

Laney signed the quiet branch's letter of employment before the week was up.

She would never run the backstreets of Rivertown with Rupert; he would perhaps have trusted Sez, Bart and their secret, steady work to fellow Academy students, if a bit warily, but not to someone with Thorne looking over her shoulder from the beginning. Laney spent her spare hours at the Academy in the library or out on the firing range, and felt trapped, burning in her own skin.

When the battle of Driftwood Island came, when she realised that the monsters of fire were slipping in from the Elsewhere, it was Thorne she went to, to say she could help; she stitched the rift closed while the Rangers held their own in the wreckage above. She didn’t tell Thorne how she’d done it, exactly, but she agreed that they shouldn’t tell anyone it had been her - no point in making her a target, after all.

(Laney wouldn’t remember any of this for years; until then, so far as she could recall she’d spent the whole battle helping to shield sections of lower Rivertown from fire damage. If there was a gap in her recollection - well, it was so easy to lose track in your first real battle, for everything to blur together. The Rangers couldn’t recall exactly who had stitched the rift up while they bought time, and it nagged at them for years, too)

On her first day at the Bureau’s quiet branch as a junior agent, Laney made her way to Thorne's office, shoulders carefully square and chin held level, and asked him what she would need to do to become part of the group working on the mage slave trade case.

Thorne had known her brother's name, his description; not just the dates of his disappearance but those of his escape attempt and death, the clinical numbers documenting how much power had been wrested from his bones. Laney had known, even in the midst of grief - these were not things you could learn without someone on the inside. These were not things you knew, the shadowy quiet branch of the governing powers, unless you had plans to do something with the information.

Laney had her own plans; she had always intended to use the Bureau just as much as Thorne had planned to use her.

When the Seeress saw her, Spider’s newest potential recruit, she smiled slightly in recognition, sinister and small. She asked Laney why she was applying to a role with the Graves' network. Laney had looked her dead in the eye, shoulders relaxed and everything gold around her shining true.

"My brother was a mage, a powerful one. I grew tired a long time ago of being a shadow because I don't have gold dripping from my fingers."

Neither Kay or Bea trusted the Agent and her casually mentioned ally - Spider had been a nightmare in the mountains for longer than Kay had known of this fight, and had never slipped into the Baker’s net to whisper secrets to her deputy. In another life, the Baker’s right hand had been a girl who saw nothing but blood and ash on her palms, who had once let a whole village die, unseen, because she wanted to live; in another life, the Spider had been confident that the Dragon Slayer would understand the price he was paying. He would have offered himself as an informant, trusting in her pragmatism to take his information and keep the source to herself. In another life, Bea had years of listening to George talk haltingly about the place she had once called home, the dragon they had given her a legend for, and would have listened to her, taken the information even if reluctantly.

But the Giantkiller had no such weight on his shoulders, and Spider had spent too long working himself into the Graves’ good graces to risk his position on that kind of gamble.

They didn’t trust Agent Jones or the Spider, let alone the Bureau man with twinkling glasses who slipped into Challenge with a promise of information and a cheerful litany of all of Kay’s illegal activities, but they couldn’t afford not to take their warnings. Challenge prepared for another siege, hunkering down to withstand whatever the Graves’ threw at them, and Kay decided when the Rangers arrived to support the defenders that his life was worth the gamble and followed two shadowy spies into the Keep, a decoy captive.

He’d been here just once before; after that, the Mayor had finally listened to Sandry’s murmurings about weak points in their security, and no-one had broken into the keep since. Spider let them in through a side door, and Kay shuddered as it clicked closed behind him. They burned the machines, Agent Jones lighting the mage blasts, but the engineer wasn’t there, the careful blueprints and plans stored somewhere other than this cold office. Kay turned a corner and ran into the Seeress, the first time he had seen her face to face. They stared at one another, frozen; she was frantically figuring out how the Giantkiller had made it into the keep unnoticed - and he had no idea who he just run into, unsure if he should tell her who he was and hesitating to use force on someone he thought might be an innocent.

Spider stepped up behind him, and the Seeress’ cold mask slipped, fractured as she looked between them, Sandry feeling her steady ground shift beneath her feet. Spider’s hand settled warningly over Kay’s shoulder, yanking him back and cuffing him to a stair-rail to keep the boy in place as the recognition dawned, while he frantically whispered at Sandry - telling her to leave, to slip out of the side door and hide, that she could join her brother and start over. The Seeress snapped out sharp retorts, demanding to know what exactly the Bureau knew of her baby brother, and Kay felt an abrupt, unwelcome fellow feeling - he knew what it was, to fear the extent of the Bureau’s files, to want the names of you and yours kept secret. The Seeress was trembling, torn between drawing herself up and in, hurt and terrified of showing it, and wanting to trust, for just a little longer, that the Spider was on her side.

Mayor Graves turned the corner, calling for the Seeress, his useful little monster, because someone had been in his office, burned his papers to ash. He was clutching a weapon that pulsed gold (in the cells below, there was a trembling body, the magic in their blood ripped free and pushed into a new vessel), concerned but not frantic. He spied Kay, and his face broke into a smirk. Spider stood with a relaxed stance, hand on his holstered gun, face a mask while he weighed options. The Seeress straightened her spine. Her father had told her all her life that mages were selfish, hoarding power, that their work was a sad necessity for the wellbeing of the many. He was holding a gun that took that power and put it in his own two hands - Sandry had made Spider teach her to shoot years ago, on the quiet, because she wanted something she could do, to defend herself and her brother, something to hold onto that would give her power that didn’t rely on words. She knew that this was a power he had made for himself to cling to.

The Giantkiller was a child, still, and almost as young as her brother had been when she pressed a bag into his hands and told him to flee. Her father was pointing a gun at a boy barely older than his son, and everything in him was twisting gleeful with it. She murmured, dispassionate, that the boy might have useful information. That Spider should take him downstairs for questioning, to find out about the gaps in their defences - a security breach such as this must be investigated carefully, for all their sakes. Spider could dispose of the pest, after. Mayor Graves had never been in the habit of listening to his daughter, and she wanted to scream it at him as he dismissed her again without even a word.

The Mayor took an experimental shot at the Giantkiller, burning the ground by Kay’s left leg to cinders, and crumpled to the ground. Agent Jones slipped out of the shadows behind him, ash dusting her fingertips, pistol held steady and familiar in her hand. She glanced down at the body, cold, and wondered if she would regret never getting to tell him exactly why she’d taken aim, a sniper’s precise shot under cover of his own.

Spider stepped casually in front of Sandry, and with a glare Agent Jones holstered her gun before striding briskly by both her mentor and the Seeress to release the bindings holding Kay in place.

“C’mon, Giantkiller. Let’s get you back to your friends at Challenge, and the boss in here to sort out everything else.” She slid her eyes sideways towards Spider. “I’ll be sure to tell him that you have the Seeress in your custody, sir.” Spider gave a resigned sigh, but made no other objection. Kay felt he ought to protest, to argue against leaving the Seeress unchained, to snap that it should have been him who took down the Mayor, but this had never been just his fight, for all his was the name the Seeress had hissed in the wake of foiled plans. He let himself be guided out, Agent Jones brisk and efficient, a polite smile pasted on her face.

Thorne was waiting for them outside, cheerfully confident in his Agents and the Giantkiller. He told Kay that Challenge had withstood the final siege, but couldn’t tell him the cost. Kay, seething, bit his tongue at the man’s oily reminders that in the quiet branch’s service, any messy rumours about illegal activities would be swept under the rug. The Giantkiller jerked his head back at the keep. “The mayor is dead, but the Seeress is still alive in there.” Thorne pursed his lips, nodding. “Good, good. The mayor had to be removed, though alive would have been…preferable. Young Cassandra can take over, however, to maintain consistency - with supervision, of course, before you say anything.” Kay scowled. “She fed mages into his machines for years.” Thorne smiled at him, condescendingly, shaking his head like a kindly grandfather.

“We cannot simply remove every political figure we disagree with. She is young. She will be managed. You should be making your way to Challenge, however. I’m sure your friends will want to hear the good news.” Agent Jones watched the boy stalk away, carefully keeping her face neutral. She was an old hat at manipulating people, after years of practice - she could see that Thorne was trying to collect another recruit. She could also see that he was going about it in entirely the wrong fashion, but she didn’t think it was worth pointing that out.

Thorne glanced at her sideways. “The mayor is dead, Agent Jones?” “Yes sir. An unfortunate necessity to avoid further loss of life.” He heaved a sigh, but didn’t question it. “Very well then. Let us go and debrief Spider, and explain the new order of things to Miss Graves.”

Even with the Mayor gone, the keep was still hostile territory; Agent Jones was on high alert, so when she heard a door click softly closed as they walked through the entry way she waved Mr Thorne on ahead of her, waiting until Dadlus thought it was safe to emerge again. She tackled him to the ground, and had him cuffed and cursing by the time Thorne, Spider and the Seeress made their way back down the stairs. Thorne’s face turned gleeful when he saw her captive. He rubbed his hands together. “Excellent! Good work, Agent Jones.” The Seeress’ head snapped toward him, eyes widening fractionally in surprise before he spoke. “I have a Bureau engineer who desperately needs to pick your brains, particularly as it seems the Giantkiller was able to burn all of the blueprints. You're going to be very valuable to us.”

Spider was staring between Thorne and Dadlus, ice slipping down his spine as he put the pieces together, discovered the game Thorne had been playing all along. He had spent years working in this keep, shoulders weighed down by so many lives he had been unable to save, who he had sacrificed to ensure he could bring it all to an end. He took three long steps forward and slid the knife he always carried up his sleeve between the engineer's ribs. "I didn't let children die for years so the Bureau could turn around and do the same thing all over again." Dadlus slumped to the ground, blood pooling under him. Thorne went for his gun, but Agent Jones was quicker - in a different life, it would have been dragon’s fire that killed Gerald Thorne, but in this one it was handfuls of Elsewhere fire that Laney had been carrying around her wrists for years, hidden even from the Seeress.

Cassandra stared at them both over the cooling body, shaken - she had always seen everything, every secret and every weakness, and here she found both: her lieutenants had been hiding secrets upon secrets, tucked carefully away where she hadn’t found them, and so she was weak where she’d thought her back was guarded. She wondered if it would be a bullet or a blaze that came for her, whether Spider would help or if he would pull her out of the way.

Agent Jones didn’t glance her way: she and Spider were eying each other, weighing up their priorities and potentials. Spider wanted Sandry to go free - she had barely been an adult when he arrived at the keep, for all that it had taken him weeks to discover she wasn’t cold years older. He had realised within those first months of working his way into her network just how young she must have been, when the Mayor told her she was a monster and turned her into a tool.

Laney had always wanted revenge for her brother, justice for the other victims. She had burned the machines with glee and felt no guilt for shooting the Mayor down. She felt no guilt for burning Throne, either - she wanted the machines gone as much as Spider. But she knew who it was who had found her brother, who had sent armed thugs with Elsewhere cracks in their pockets after Liam. She had told herself she would feel no guilt for shooting the Seeress, either, even when she saw the date of birth in the briefing files.

But Laney had spent a year now with Sandry and the Spider; she remembered the squeaky sage in her second year study group, the one she still sometimes met in the University library to chatter over Elsewhere theory. She had heard Sandry talk about Sam, but she had heard Grey talk about Sandry, too. She thought she talked about Liam the same way, sometimes.

“Thorne said we would leave you in charge,” she spoke softly, as though the words were of no importance. “So we will. But you do not re-start operations, and Spider and I will make sure of it.” Agent Jones holstered her gun, turned to the Seeress, and raised an eyebrow. “But the people around here will freeze in winter, without help. Your people, now. So, I’ve a challenge for you - I know you’ve studied how the machines work, how to make them more efficiently. But have you ever tried to figure out how you can wrest this power from thin air and turn it into something useful?”

Laney Jones pressed her hand up to the skin of the world and broke it; in the glow of the Elsewhere she was radiant, and Cassandra would have shielded her eyes if she’d been able to bear looking away. All her life, she had been told that what they did was the only way, only fair.

She stared, eyes stinging, and thought I have never seen a mage burn so bright.

Kay spent the weeks after at Challenge helping to shore up the damage; Bea left the bakery to help, bandaging the wounded and scolding him for taking foolish risks. They knelt side by side in the community garden, repairing damaged trellises and trying to see which of the fragile growths could be coaxed back into health and which needed to be turned to compost. One water break, surveying the rows they’d managed to restore, he idly turned a stone over and said, “What are we going to do now? What’s next?” She didn’t pretend he was talking about the garden, though she didn’t reply until they were carting the next load of dug up plants to the compost heap.

“I don’t know. It’s been so long since I didn’t have -” And he put his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder; Bea had turned herself to stone in so many ways, over the years, since she woke to a cold house and an empty bedroom, and now her war was won. There would be pieces to pick up, rebuilding that would take years. The Seeress was still in the keep, and for all that Agent Jones assured them she wasn’t going to be a problem it still sat bitter under both their tongues. It would take months for the mountain villagers to feel safe, for a child with sparks flicking between fingertips to inspire joy not terror. It would take years, a lifetime - several lifetimes. There was work for Bea to bury herself in still, but for now there was sun on her shoulders and there would be no mages lost in the night. For now, she could realise they were safe, as safe as you could ever be, and weep for all those who hadn’t been.

Later, shoulder to shoulder in the crowded inn, Kay would rest his head on her shoulder, quiet.

“I think I should go back to the farm, for a bit. See my dad, yeah? Make sure he knows I’m okay.” He nudged her with an elbow, gentle. “I’ll come back, though. But I promised I wouldn’t leave without telling you, so I am. I’m going to head back to the farm and get shouted at, so you aren’t even going to be the only one nagging me about taking risks, then I’m gong to come back to the bakery and chop wood for you.” She laughed softly.

“That’s your life plan?” He grinned, and it was a younger face that looked back at her than she’d seen for years. He was still a child, really, for all that he was growing tall and gangly. He shrugged. "For now. I’d like to go a few weeks with no-one trying to kill me, it’d make a nice change. Later - well. Maybe I’ll go get myself a Badge, I'm almost old enough. Sarge told me plenty of times he reckons I could do it, and I’ve daydreamed about it for years, you know? Be a proper Hero, join the Rangers as an intern. Agent Jones told me Thorne is dead - I didn't ask for details, I thought she might shoot me - and that I didn't need to worry about my name being in any paperwork with the Giantkiller, so long as I say Thorne was tragically killed in the fight with the Mayor. I could do it, if I wanted.” They sat in silence for a while longer, watching the crowd. After a while, Bea ruffled his hair gently. “Maybe you should go to the Academy, get yourself a career lined up. But if you’ll take an old baker’s suggestion - I think you’d make a better Guide, all things considered. You've had enough practice at being a hero.”

In the morning, before he set out for the old farm he hadn’t been back to in years, Kay climbed up the flights of stairs to the uppermost platform of the wall that surrounded Challenge. The wooden posts were riddled with marks, from flung weapons and the sooty streaks left by stolen mage fire, idle carved graffiti left by bored sentries - names and old in jokes, defiant records left when they knew they were all inviting battle to their doorstep. He stood looking out at the surrounding peaks as the sun rose, thinking about the Leauges and Bureau policy, about a roc digging claws into his shoulder and long summer sieges, the machines burning and Mayor Graves crumpling lifeless to his plush carpet, and dug out his pocket knife.

We were here.

#my writing #Jack is a Beanstalk #Beanstalk #Echoes of a Giantkiller #Remember the Dust #this one went way more off canon than usual #I was planning to spend more time with more of the background characters #Sorry Susie and Rosie I'll have to give you more screentime another time #because Kay kind of...took over #L&L fic #the mountain vigilantes never become the mountain vigilantes #other people still step up to the fight #Leagues and legends

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niqhtlord01 · 4 years

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Humans are weird: Final stand

Compared to the time spent in the boarding craft, storming the human ship was proving relatively easy for Loski assault team.

In the space surrounding Lepitus VI a raging war of fire and light was being waged between the Loski Republic and the Dominion of Man fleets. Dominion ships had been caught unprepared in their orbital docks when the Loski strike fleet emerged.The first barrage of streaker missiles had crippled a large portion of the fleet before they could even ignite their engines. The Mul’ta, Highlander, Vincent, and Spanish Prince took critical hits that knocked them out of the fight instantly. Through their bleeding reactor cores the Sovereign and New Delhi battleships pressed forward from their dry docks and began returning fire as the smaller escort fleet began pulling out of dock. Their guns racked across the strike fleet as their anti missiles screens turned the space between the two fleets into a dazzle of explosions.

The largest vessel of the Loski brought their solar cannon to bear and fired at the Sovereign as she delivered a full broadside of her mighty guns. True to its name the super heated energy burned through her hull like a hot knife through butter, ripping out her midsection and nearly splitting her in two. Though her largest turret continued firing the Sovereign had become trapped in Lepitus VI’s gravity well and was slowly dragged plummeting to the planet below.

Emboldened by the destruction of one of the human’s main ships the rest of the Loski strike fleet began moving closer. Each time New Delhi’s guns spoke they swatted another ship from the star ways; but it was as if swatting a single fly from a swarm forcing fleet admiral to make a heavy choice.

The New Delhi spun around and provided rear guard to the Dominion fleet as they began speeding away from Lepitus VI at full burn. The fleet could not risk their battleship in the face of the solar cannon and chose to flee with as much strength left intact as they could. This however left the Argos station at the mercy of the encroaching Loski fleet. The main bulk of the enemy fleet broke off to chase down the remaining human vessels while the smaller craft headed for Argos station. The station was far from defenseless and as the vessels came within range her guns roared out their anger at the invaders. This defiance while impressive hardly hindered the enemy ships as it took several Argos weapon platforms firing together to pierce their shields. The return fire was less blinding but surgical as one by one gun emplacements were neutralized and as they drew close enough to the station they unleashed a dozen boarding craft.

The strike teams inside shook with every evasive action the small craft took. Clenching their weapons tightly they waited in silence as the displays inside their helmet counted down.

Latching on to the side of the station laser drills bore deep into the hull. Twenty seconds after the drills start boarding doors opened and the assault teams poured in. The inside of the station was in complete chaos. Sirens and klaxons blaring, red strobe lights flashing and flickering down the length of the corridors, and smoke so thick you could feel it pressing down on you.

The initial attacks from Loski vessels hadn’t just been to silence the gun emplacements, but to also target the areas surrounding the breach points to ensure enough chaos would ensue making any defense impossible. Resistance wasn’t encountered until they had left the damaged areas of the station as the strike force moved rapidly to secure critical systems. Makeshift barricades lined hallways manned by security forces and injured crew members hastily pressed into service.

Armed with assault rifles and standard pistols these barricades proved nothing more than a speed bump to the Loski commando teams. Their armor was thin mesh of interlocking scales which defused the kinetic energy from the human weapons easily. This light weight armor allowed them to close the distance within a few strides bringing them within range of their shredder rifles. They fired a single projectile that entered the enemy body and then exploded outward like a shotgun shredding the target from the inside as if a reverse shotgun.

Barricade after barricade was overrun until finally the teams reached the control station. The doors had been sealed tight but the commandos had prepared with a hacker module. As the device began encrypting the security the teams prepared to rush in. All they had to do was secure the stations commander and have them order the remaining humans to stand down. They had easily secured a path from the excursion point to the heart of the station but they were still outnumbered a fifty to one and the shock of the assault had worn off. Already the outer guards were reporting humans with heavier weaponry attempting to fight their way to them and drive the Loski from their station.

The device beeped and the doors slowly began opening. Just as the passage was wide enough the first commando rushed forward and was met by a hail of gunfire. The intensity of the fire overloaded the scale armor and the commando dropped backwards to the decking as their body had been riddled with slug rounds.

With the doors finally fully open the entire strike force moved in at the same time and was once more met by the gun fire storm of the defenders. Overturned command consoles and chairs formed a improvised wall for the command staff to huddle behind as they fired at the entrance. A few of the humans appeared to be part of the elite security detail and were armed with energy rifles. They would emerge from their combat shields long enough to fire a short burst before returning to cover to wait for the weapon to cool down.

The elite security was gathered around a single human who must have been in charge of the station. They were dressed in much finer clothing than the other humans and carried more unique weaponry as they drew a energy pistol and shot a hole through one of the Loski commandos helmets.

Even with the increased fire power the humans were only delaying the end. The Loski pushed forward into the command center and covered the no man’s land between them easily and were among them in an instant.A crewman brought their head up to fire once more only to have it taken clean off by a shredder round exploding in his skull. Another tried to use a torn off metal sheet as a club and took a swing at their attacker only to miss and be disemboweled in return.

Behind the human final barricade the Loski saw the remaining crew had been destroying consoles and ripping out wiring. They were ensuring that when the Loski took the heart of the station they would have no access or control for any other sections of the massive dockyard.

One by one the human defenders fell to the commandos until the thickest fighting remained around the station commander and two surviving elite security guards.

The Loski slowly circled the group as they backed towards one of the viewports, the outside of the station still a battlefield of explosions and fire. Three of the Loski rushed forward at the same time to subdue their prey as the guards brought their rifles to bear. One was able to get of a shot that grazed the leg of one of the commandos but the other had their rifle swatted out of their hands before they could fire. With the rifle now out of reach the guard raised their shield and instead rammed forward, knocking the commando off their feet before bringing the shield down hard against the neck joints of the Loski armor with a loud crunch.

The remaining Loski opened fire on the guard and tore apart their upper torso with shredder rounds as the remaining guard took a round to the head as they brought the rifle to fire again.

Now standing alone the human commander continued backing up until they found themselves pressed against the viewport. Their eyes darted left and right as if searching for some hope, some sliver of a possibility to escape; but when none presented itself the tired human’s shoulders sagged.

The Loski now were very cautious as they needed the human alive. Their weapons were not trained on him but could easily be brought to bear in a heart beat should the human raise his weapon.

The commander reached into their pocket and pulled out a small communication device and spoke into it as his other free hand clutched the energy pistol tightly.

“To all surviving crew, this is your commander speaking....” they began. The Loski seemed to relax some, thinking that the human was about to order the surrender of his station.

The human paused, taking a deep breath and looking out at the aliens that had slaughtered their way through his crew to reach him. His features tightened and his stare turned as hard as stone as he spoke what were to be his final words.

“Give them hell.”

Calmly raising the pistol over their shoulder, the human fired into the viewport. The glass took the impact and shattered as the molten hole the shot had created exploded outward violently taking everyone present into the cold embrace of the void.

Across the entire station the crew of Argos took their commander’s final words to heart and resolved themselves. Gun crews manned their stations until shells ran dry, security details held checkpoints to the last man as more boarding parties were dispatched to the station, engineers took their heavy tools and formed living tides of flesh as they rushed commandos over mounds of their fallen just to bash them in their last act of defiance.

Argos station had fallen, but the legends that were forged from fire that day would carry on for generations to come.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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jabbajambler · 3 years

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Human

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 2,109

*GIF by @lyrawills*

The armorer worked diligently on melting down the beskar armor, the pieces that the Mandalorians had worked their whole lives to receive. It turned to liquid like it was nothing. The stories and battles it had seen were forgotten, never to be heard of again.

"Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction." She inquired as she shifted her attention towards us.

Din shuffled closer to the droid that held the child in a pack on its chest. His legs were still weak from the hit, but he was recovering faster than normal with the bacta.

"This is the one." He said, gesturing towards the green child.

"This is the one that you hunted, then saved?" She spoke with a joking tone.

"Yes. The one that saved me as well."

"From the mudhorn?" Her voice lifted with curiosity.

He looked from me to the child then back to the armorer. "Yes."

"It looks helpless."

I squeezed past Din to face the armorer, standing tall despite how little I felt. "It's a bit tired right now, but it is far from helpless. It- It has the Force." I whispered the final part. Such power was a sensitive topic amongst the Mandalorians despite me having a connection with both of them.

"Ah... So, it is like you." She directed her attention back to the melting pot of metal.

"How do you know about that?" Din took a small step forward, his head tilted in confusion as he questioned whether everyone knew about such things.

"The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore The Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers... Like Myrah here."

"Jedi..." He whispered faintly. "So they are enemies?"

"No." She sort of chuckled and shook her head. "Their kind were enemies, but they are not."

"What is it?" He asked about the baby.

She neared a large cabinet, opening it with the touch of a button. "It is a foundling. By Creed, it is in your care."

He scoffed. "You wish me to train this thing?"

"It is too weak. It would die. Unless Myrah deems herself capable of training it, you must reunite it with its own kind."

"Where?"

"This, you must determine."

I huffed out a laugh and crossed my arms over my chest. "You expect him to go out and search the entire galaxy for another one of these things? Din can't go anywhere near them without being a threat."

"This is the Way." She answered simply. "Isn't that a code that you once followed, Myrah Koor?"

"Hey." Cara came towards us after exploring the small cave. "These tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan."

"If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream toward the lava flats."

"I think we should go." Greef proposed.

"I'm staying." Din stated firmly.

My head snapped towards him, both of my hands immediately grasping his. "What are you thinking?"

"I need to help her and I need to heal."

"You must go." She must have been growing tired of our bickering. "A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father." She paused as we looked towards the cooing baby. "This is the Way."

She turned towards us, holding a crafted piece of metal in front of her. "You have earned your signet." With careful precision, she welded on the mudhorn symbol onto his pauldron. "You are a clan of two-" She stopped and glanced over to me. "Or three."

"Thank you." Din's voice was sincere. "I will wear this with honor."

A muffled explosion and smoke rose from around the corner. They were coming.

"IG, please guard the outer hallway." The armorer demanded. "A scouting party draws near... I have one more gift for your journey. Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?"

Din nodded. "When I was a boy. Yes."

"Then this will make you complete." She turned, holding a jetpack in her hands.

"Thank you." He said again.

I whistled and leaned against the central table. "You in a jetpack? That's sexy."

"Myrah." Both Din and the armorer snapped, scolding me for my less than subtle words. It was like being a child all over again.

"When you have healed," she continued, trying to move past my comment, "you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands."

"I understand."

Blaster fire echoed through the tunnels, followed by the bright red light of the guns. We reached for our blasters during the moment of silence that fell over, but they were lowered as soon as IG came back into our line of sight.

"You are protected." It declared.

"More will come. You must go."

"Come with us." Din offered again.

"My place is here. Restock your munitions." Din took off towards the table while she stalked towards the droid. "IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it. Now, go. Down to the river and across the plains."

Cara, Greef, and the IG left the room while Din and I lingered a bit behind. "Be safe on your journey." She spoke to him. He said a final thank you and grabbed his blaster before following the others. "Myrah... You be careful. You know how-"

"I know. I'll play it safe... But you have to as well." I smiled and nudged her with my elbow in a playful manner.

"No. I wanted to check on this." She gestured towards the heavy hilt on my hip.

I grabbed the weapon carefully, my fingers brushing over the gentle engravings and hovering over the small button. With two small clicks to the button, a light orange light grew from both ends, similar to its alternative staff form. I could feel my lips twitch into a smile just by gazing at it.

"Do they know?"

"Sort of. It's fine for now, though." I tucked the handle into my belt before forcing her into a quick hug. "Thank you for everything." I whispered and caught up to the group. I knew the sincerity went both ways.

"This is the lava river." Greef pointed out as we emerged from the drab hall.

The river was long and the heat that radiated from it brought beads of sweat to my face. I could see the steam that rose from the magma. The fiery orange flow of the river was threatening but inviting. It was beautiful and dangerous, the worst combination of them all.

"The ferry droid is fried."

"Yeah, but if we push the boat out, we can get it to float downstream."

I shrugged and glanced over at Cara. "Why don't we just shoot at it?"

"That'll never work." Greef brushed me off. "Come on." He insisted.

"Looks old." Din seemed questionable of his idea. "Will it take the heat?"

"You got a better idea?"

He sighed. "Guess not."

Greef and Din struggled against the boat, working to push it away from the dock. He kicked it in frustration, stomping away from it. I had to hide the snort that came up from their failed attempt.

"Come on! What're you doing?" Greef groaned.

"Let's try this." Din grabbed a long, metal pole and tried to use it to carve away at the crusted edge.

Cara sighed and pulled her gun over her shoulder. "You guys mind getting out of the way?" They stepped back as she fired along the edge, breaking the boat away from the platform.

As Greef and Cara loaded into the boat, I grabbed Din's arm and pulled him over. My finger landed hard against his chest plate, making a small clink as it hit.

"Don't underestimate my ideas."

His hand wrapped around my own, his thumb moving tenderly over my hand. "Trust me, I won't."

"Get in, lovebirds. We don't have time to lollygag." Cara joked with a smile as she looked back at us. I laughed and hopped into the small boat with the others.

"Watch your feet." The IG advised. "It's molten lava."

"No kidding." Cara huffed.

There was a soft beeping and whirring that frightened us. We all spun with blasters raised towards the sound. The ferry droid pulled itself from the cracks and stood, holding its paddle in its mechanical hands.

"I don't suppose anybody here speaks droid?" Din asked.

I looked to him with a blank expression and a head tilt that said 'you've got to be kidding me.' Especially when there was a droid standing right next to us. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not at this point.

"I believe he is asking where we would like to go." IG pointed out.

"Down river." Greef nodded. "To the lava flat."

The droid chirped and began rowing that way. It was quite a long ride, lava rivers always seem to have a slow current. After a while, we could finally see a soft, white light at the end; the exit. We were home free.

"That's it. We're free!" Greef cheered.

"No." Din's voice was soft and disappointed. "No, we're not. Stormtroopers. They're flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we're coming."

"Stop the boat." Cara demanded, but the droid kept rowing. "Hey, Droid, I said stop the boat. Hey! I'm talking to you. I said stop!" Her anger grew as she blasted the head of the droid off.

Greef glanced around anxiously. "We're still moving."

"Looks like we fight." Cara's anger softened into fear.

"We can't fight them. We're outnumbered. By a lot." I growled.

"Well, then what do you suggest? 'Cause I can't surrender."

"They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child." The IG spoke up from its spot. "This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape."

Din chuckled softly. "You don't have that kind of firepower, pal. You wouldn't even get to daylight."

"That is not my objective." It spoke, receiving a quick turn of heads from all of us.

"We're getting close." Cara warned. "Saddle up."

"Cara, we can't." I hissed.

"I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct."

"What're you talking about?" Din spoke with a harsh whisper.

"I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed."

Greef was growing more irritated by the second. "Are we gonna keep talking, or get out of here?"

"I can no longer carry this for you." The droid spoke and rested the jetpack down on the boat. "Nor can I watch over the child." It passed the packed away child to Din, setting him in his arms.

"Wait. You can't self-destruct. Your base command is to watch the child. That supersedes your manufacturer's protocol, right?" He paused. "Right?"

"This is correct."

"Good. Now, grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out." He demanded.

"Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The child will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved, in which I survive."

Din's tone softened. "Listen, you're not going anywhere. We need you. Let's just come up with a-"

"Please tell me the child will be safe in your care. If you do so, I can default to my secondary command."

"But you'll be destroyed."

"And you will live, and I will have served my purpose."

"No. We need you." Din spoke in a saddened, pained whisper.

"There is nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive."

"I'm not...sad."

"Yes you are. I'm a nurse droid. I've analyzed your voice."

It gently pet the child's ear and stepped into the burning lava. It marched through faster than the boat was moving, reaching the exit to the tunnel where the stormtroopers gathered.

Din grasped my hand tightly, threading his fingers between mine and squeezing it as though it would be the last time.

"It's going to be alright. IG is giving us a chance to escape." I mumbled and raised our joined hands to my lips, placing a soft kiss against the leather.

"I know."

We could faintly hear the droid's final words before he self-destructed. Din's grip tightened as the light reflected off his helm. Without speaking a single word, I knew what he was thinking.

IG's sacrifice would not be in vain.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #mandalorian #mandalorian x oc #din djarin #din djarin x oc #dyn jarren #jedi #oc #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #babyyoda

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godestof3worlds · 3 years

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On the 1st Day of Christmas my true love gave to me - A Partridge in a Pear Tree

A lot of things can happen in a span of a second, tick since we’re in space. In a second you can feel immense joy for opening a Christmas present to only receive a book of from your father. In a second you could feel a bond with a sentimental lion. In a second you can be completing a mission, then all of a sudden you see fire engulf one of your companions. In a second you could be about to ram your ship into a shield only for there to be no need to complete the course.

That is what happened to me only half an hour ago, half a varga since we’re still in space. I'm just there in the room with the paladins of Voltron and rebels while trying to calm myself from the adrenaline rush. I don’t think nobody knows what almost happened except for maybe Matt, who keeps looking at me. I try to pay attention to Kolivan , I really do try, but my mind is running at a mile per minute about how I almost died.

I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I mean I have almost died several times, and it’s not me being dramatic. I'm in a war, I put my life on the line so others don’t have to. This one though, this one was like facing death head on whereas the other times I didn’t care how close to death I really was. I would have gone through with the act, would have rammed my ship into the shield to save the coalition.

The mission before the individual.

That’s the Blades’ way.

Thank goodness Lotor was there, but even then, that act alone leads me to wanting answers for my millions of questions I have for the prince. Why help us? Why go against your own empire? Why now decide to join the fight? What did he do to want to switch side from being the enemy, to being the ally? What will he gain?

So many confusing questions that I can feel them behind my eyelids. I shake out of my thoughts in time to see Shiro and Kolivan nod before everybody starts to exit the room.

I quickly get out of my seat and leave the room, but not before I hear Kolivan call out, “We’ll be leaving in a varga,”

I nod my head, knowing he probably won’t see it, but it’s still the action of doing it. I don’t really know what to do. Everybody is busy, I don’t think I could really go to my old room, and I doubt I can go to the training deck. Kolivan has already warned me beforehand that if he catches me on the training deck here, he will make me do drills for five vargas straight. I may have great stamina, but Kolivan’s drill is a nightmare.

I just start to walk over to the kitchen to grab a water, my throat dry, before I see a shadow start to follow me, then a hand lands on my shoulder and before I can process whoever it is, my instincts take over. I grab the hand and twist it before I turn around, about to kick the offender’s leg out of them-

“Woah there Keith. It’s me. It's your second unofficially adopted older brother,” Matt quickly shouts with wide eyes.

I let go of his hand as I take a step back, “Sorry,” I apologized. I try to get away because I know why Matt is here and not with his sister, and I don’t want to talk about it but-

“Ah Kogane, I should know better than to startle a Samurai ninja like that after an almost death experience,” He says.

“First, I'm not a ninja samurai -”

“ Yes you are-”

“Samurai are nobles that decided to be warriors in ancient Japanese, whereas ninjas are just normal people in Japan who are spies, and assassins, and last I checked, I'm not a noble,” I blurt out.

“Well sorry that I don’t keep useless information on these types of things,” I just shrug as I start to walk away.

“Bye Matt,” I wave and I start to speed walk away.

“Nope, no you don’t. You don’t get to walk off like that after you did a kamikaze move like that.” he grabs my shoulder to turn me around so I could face him, “I thought the Japanese did that in World War ||, and you are Korean, it’s not like it’s in your blood or anything,”

“I didn’t go through with it, Lotor shot down the shield in time, so I'm fine,”

“You almost died and you are going to just walk off like that,” we start walking to an unknown destination.

“We almost die all the time-”

“But nobody goes running head first into a forcefield, you’re lucky Lotor was there,” and I sigh because he’s right about both statement he made. I was lucky, very lucky.

“I know Matt, but if one life needs to be sacrificed for tens of millions of people, then I will do it again,” we turn a corner, and it feels like I'm leading, but I'm still a little to shaken up to really care.

“But that’s just it Keith, you think nobody will miss you if you exploded into little Keith bits?” we round another corner, and we are before the door that leads to the lions, specifically the Black Lion.

“Matt, what are we doing here?” I ask as I cross my arms in front of my chest.

“You think I brought you here? Nope, you did, I let you lead, you’re the one who started to walk around, not me,” and at this I tilt my head in thought before I walk in.

“Okay, I'm really glad you walked over here because we need to talk, let’s go near the nice kitties' leg so the barrier can come down and we can talk about you sacrificing without saying goodbye and how you think you are nothing,” I just nod because nothing much I can actually do.

So, we walk behind the lion’s leg and the particle barrier come up, surprising me with how it actually listened to me.

“So, first of all, you DON’T go SACRIFICING yourself!” he shouts at me, startling me, “I know the whole Blades motto is ‘the mission before the individual’ and all that,” he quoted the motto with his fingers, “But if you would not have been so stupidly hotheaded, we could have made another plan,”

“But there wasn’t time to make any other PLAN!” I shouted back before I took a deep breath, “Matt, tens of thousands of lives were at stake, I couldn’t let my measly life be the reason why families died, and if Lotor wasn’t there, and I didn’t ram my shop, I would have died either way,” I tried to reason.

“ You stupid idiotic imbecile!” he shouted, “You are Keith quiznacking Kogane! You are not some type of worthless person who will not be missed if you died.”

“Matt-”

“No, you are not listening!” he stopped for a second before he took a deep breath, “I will now list your accomplishment in no particular order,” he calmy said

“M-”

“And if you interrupt, I will hit you so hard with my staff that you wish you kamikazed; you understand?”

I nod as I cross my arms.

“You, Keith Akira Kogane, have accomplished a lot of things even with the universe going against you. You have beaten Shiro’s record back at Garrison. It wasn’t just one, not two, not even five, but all of them before the age of eighteen,” he pauses for effect, “rescued Shiro from the Garrison, found carvings to find the blue lion, became the red lion’s pilot, a paladin of Voltron, fought Zarkon head on and survived, survived the trials of Marmora that Shiro has said looked hard, awakened your blade, became the black lion’s paladin, led Voltron, then turned into a space ninja,” Matt quickly took a huge gulp of air.

I just raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to tell me he was done.

“Now then Kogane, I know you like being Mr. Macho and everything, but it’s okay to not be okay,” he says.

“I am okay,” I insist.

“No, you are not Keith, I saw you during the meeting. You were bouncing your leg, a nervous tick you subconsciously do, and glaring at the table as if it ate Shiro or something. You are not okay,” Matt takes a big breath, “Keith, you are like a younger brother I never have, sure I have Ka-Pidge, but she’ll always be my sister, I can’t lose you to this war. I already lost dad, and I know he’s still alive, but I can’t actually lose you and there is no way to get you back,” Matt says seriously.

I don’t know what to say. It's war. That's life. Many people need to make sacrifices because it can be the cause for millions of people.

“What do you want me to say? It’s war, I can’t guarantee that I'll survive,” I whisper.

Matt holds onto my shoulder before he pulls me into a hug.

“Just try to stay alive, that’ll be enough,” I nod my head, “besides, who’s going keep giving Shiro white hair, or keep scaring me to death, huh?” we both laugh until we pull apart.

I quickly wipe the few tears that were staining my cheeks .

“Thanks Matt,” I whispered.

“Anytime,” he had tear tracks too, but didn’t make any move.

“I should go make sure I'm not late,” I start to walk away when Matt calls out.

“Keith, you are my little brother, just like Pidge is my little sister, we’re family,” and I nod my head.

But as I walked away, I knew that I would make many more sacrifices to protect my family. As many as it takes...

#The meaning of this lyric was that Christ represented as a mother patridge who was the only bird to die for her young.#day 1 complete #Voltron legendary defender #voltron #vld #Keith Kogane #Matt Holt #Big Brother Matt #don't judge #keith needs a hug

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brightideawritings · 4 years

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Ahhhhhh, I only finished "The Rise of Kyoshi" on Sunday but immediately my mind has been overtaken by Kyoshi's story. Especially, her lovely relationship with Rangi! So, in order to get this fire out of my head I wanted to explore some events of the books from Rangi's perspective. Here is the first chapter surrounding the events of the first few chapters.

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Burning Thoughts

Chapter: Mansion

Ragni did not give her opponent the time to react to her attacks, her fists blurred in front of her in a storm of quick jabs, she felt the heat of her chi travel through her arms to her hands and burst forth as incandescent fire, “Yaaaaah!” she let loose her war scream as the storm of fire burst across the training room at a blinding pace. Any lesser bender would have balked under the sudden barrage - a non-bender would have ran for cover. Rangi’s opponent did not stand idle or run for cover but instead stepped into the oncoming attack. Her opponent raised a right leg in Crane stance and brought it down in a single motion - an arc of fire sprang into being and cut through Rangi’s barrage like it had all been nothing. She noticed with ire that the force of the new flame snuffed out many of her own fire jabs - again, as if they were nothing.

Rangi’s mother, Hei-Ran, former headmistress of the Fire Nation’s Royal Training Academy for Girls was not like most opponents.

Her mother’s fire cut came directly for Rangi, and she had to bite down a curse - due to the fact that she was acutely aware that unless she wanted to go up like a light torch she needed to move aside. Again she cursed to herself as she leapt to her right, as soon as she had cleared the flame she had already begun to move her body into a low body crouch for a counter-attack but as she had predicted would happen her mother had used the momentary lapse in her daughter’s offense to close the gap between them with blinding speed. Time seemed to crawl to a snail’s pace as Rangi’s body settled into a stable enough stance that she could use another firebending technique to produce a double wave of flame by bringing both of her hands upward - anything to force Hei-Ran away. The bout would be over as soon as the older woman was within arm's length of her - again a fact she was acutely aware of that seemed to nonetheless scream inside of her head.

No sooner had she let the chi ignite with her arms swinging upward she cut off the flow of flame which winked out as quickly as it had appeared. She had not been fast enough.

“I yield,” Rangi said, she forced herself not to wince - more at the disappointment and frustration in her own voice than Hei-Ran’s fist inches from her face - though her mother had not ignited her firebending she could still feel heat radiate from them. A common technique that Rangi knew how to do as did every single firebender - it was a threat, a command to surrender. Still, the emotions she breathed was nothing next to the controlled response from Hei-Ran.

“I’ve seen children half your age with stronger fire jabs than those fire lights, Rangi.” Hei-Ran looked down at her. Firebending did not come from an outside element like that of the other arts - but from the chi inherent in a firebender’s own body - the power to create fire at a whim was powerful and dangerous. The first lessons that were drilled into Rangi and every firebender she had even known was control over their emotions. To lose control was to become nothing more than a chained beast belching flame in utter futility.

“I apologize,” Rangi bowed in deference - Fire Nation society stressed hierarchy as a core social tenant. In failing today she had disappointed Hei-Ran twice - as a student and as a daughter.

“I know you can do better,” Hei-Ran sighed and nodded her chin down, a mix of pride and concern written over her face, “I’ve seen you do much better. Your calm is off. Something is bothering you.”

An altogether different emotion fluttered in her chest like a bird trapped in a cage. Something must have shown on her face as her mother raised an eyebrow almost immediately. By the spirits, Hei-Ran could be as persistent as a vulturehound - trying to run away from the subject would only leave Rangi tired and on her last legs.

“It’s just...I can’t stand, Kyoshi!” Rangi gasped in exasperation and immediately wished the words would crawl back inside of her mouth.

“Oh?” Hei’Ran’s mouth quirked with no small amusement, “I thought you two were such good friends…”

“I mean...how she acts so meek to those brats in the village!” Rangi burst with a huff, she ignored the fact that they were all just about the same age, “They taunt her and she just takes it like she was made of stone.”

“Hmm. It would most likely go better for Kyoshi in the long run if she had ambushed and destroyed the leader of her tormentors to send an example to the others.” Hei Ran had shifted down into a sitting position, which Rangi had unconsciously copied. Her earlier hesitation warred with the good sense her mother had spoken. She had given similar advice to Kyoshi earlier that day had she not? The moment reminded her that many saw Rangi herself as a smaller version of Hei-Ran, again a common social norm among the old, noble families of the Fire Nation. It was a sign of respect and honor to her mother - though she had to admit there were still a great number of differences between them.

“At times I feel tempted to do so on her behalf.” Rangi said and frowned. She had heard of Kyoshi’s...problems that lived in the village from snippets here and there in the form of gossip between other members of the household staff of Jianzhu’s mansion. Not that she was particularly friendly with many of the household staff - the vast majority of them were not worth the breath to talk to, an opinion she had formed rather quickly from their own whispered jealousies of Kyoshi and their fear of Rangi. Again, not that they had told her any of this directly - she had been trained in infiltration and evasion tactics - and she had learned quite a bit from the staff when they thought their employer or his guests were within earshot.

Today had been different from what she knew, the village idiots that taunted Kyoshi had either been too swept up in their petty bullying of Kyoshi or perhaps too hopeful to catch a glimpse of the Avatar. Rangi had spotted the them as they climbed the path back to the mansion, taken in that they had followed Kyoshi well past the the point that Rangi had noted previously they would normally turn back, and had wordlessly used her firebending to propel herself over the perimeter wall and sprint at a full pace around it and then unnoticed into a tree not far from the gate.

A part of her had been extremely disappointed when they had not burst into flame at the single, first look she had given them. That was a firebending technique it was said that could only be mastered by the greatest fire sages, but Rangi had still tried. Instead they had the sheer audacity to run away like the cowards that they were and hurl the jar of pickled kelp into the air. She had tried to get Kyoshi to use her own earthbending but no matter how much she had pushed her friend the taller girl had not moved at all - no, that was not totally true.

Kyoshi had finally acted - by jumping on top of her to save her from what would have been a shrapnel storm of kelp and pottery shards. The memory of it even hours later caused something inside of her chest to feel like it wanted to burst in protest - at Kyoshi or her own actions she still was not sure. She knew several ways to unlock an opponent’s grapple and had exercised their use at plenty of opportunities in the junior corps. When Kyoshi had shielded her Rangi had felt strangely paralyzed in the other girl’s long limbed embrace, she remembered the smell of sweat and earth and it had not been unpleasant at all.

Then she had snapped back into her head and had pummeled on Kyoshi until she had let them both stand. The jar had been fine, somewhere Avatar Yun had been watching them and had saved the day - not that a broken jar would have been a disaster the likes of villages burned and the spirit world falling into chaos. Still, it had needled her that Yun had to have step into the situation at all - it was beneath him. Though, perhaps her reasons were not totally fair. Then of course Kyoshi had gone and said the utterly cheesy yet also charming words of calling Rangi a strong hero that would always protect her.

Rangi had rolled the words over and over in her head so much that she had not even noticed that she followed Kyoshi into the kitchen. She had been surprised but in her mind had executed a well-ordered retreat, she had reminded Kyoshi of her gift duties, then complimented her on her rank of being above a scullery maid and had left. She had memorized Yun’s schedule and she had known he would be in his firebending training with her mother so she had returned to the barracks until they had concluded. Something though had happened to Yun though as when she had arrived to see him only her mother had been there. Before she could press further Hei-Ran had pushed for them to train together.

“You are the Avatar’s bodyguard, Rangi, not a servant girl’s” Hei-Ran frowned at her but she noticed there was something off, her mother had paused slightly as if something weighed on the older woman’s mind, before she continued, “You will be his sword and shield, his will and his guide. You must not forget nor waver from your duty.”

“I know mother.” Rangi bowed her head in deference once more. She paused before she continued, she wanted to find the words how important Kyoshi was...to the Avatar, “I just want to ensure harmony in the household around Yun. Kyoshi is...close to Yun” at Hei-Ran’s alarmingly inquisitive eyebrow raise Rangi knew she needed to backtrack, “That is, she often attends to Yun’s needs” a part of her blanched at the possible connotation she had uttered, “She is an ear he can talk to, we are all the same age and she is not someone who expects something from him or a servant who is over-awed by him.”

“I will...trust your judgement on that, Rangi” Hei-Ran replied, “You aren’t mistaken. Yun has requested that Kyoshi join us when we travel to the Eastern Sea to negotiate with the daofei Tagaka and the Fifth Nation.”

“WHAT? WHY-” Rangi stopped herself, she needed to control the volume of her voice. She had practically shouted the words, “Why...why would he want her to come with us to deal with those dishonorable, pirate scum!?!”

On force of habit her hands curled in and out, as if she was squeezing the life out of an invisible person. Yun! What game was he playing at? The Fifth Nation were slaving pirates and despite the promise of a peaceful accord Rangi had very little faith the affair would be bloodless. Why else would Jianzhu also want to bring a compliment of guardsmen with them? He was her charge and her friend but there were times when it boggled her mind about how impulsive and reckless he could be - perhaps he was a fine enough successor to Kuruk.

Her face scrunched together with worry as she thought of all the ways that Kyoshi would be in danger out on an iceberg in the middle of the sea. Kyoshi certainly cut an imposing figure with her height but how could Yun expect a girl who let the village brats walk all over her deal with the presence of pirates?

A thought brought her whirling mind to a sudden crash. If this was all some sort of clever scheme by Yun to impress Kyoshi...

“He said he wanted someone normal there. Kyoshi does fit the girl, besides her height.” Hei-Ran replied again, a measure of amusement entered her voice, “You will have to look out for her when I or Amak are not with the Avatar. Think of this as a new aspect of your mission Rangi. My little tigress”

“Mother!” Rangi blushed at the use of her pet name that Hei-Ran had always called her when she was a little girl. It certainly had become less amusing when the other students at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls had grown taller than her. Hei-Ran only used it now a days when she WANTED to fluster Rangi or distract her. Warfare took many forms on and off the battlefield.

“I am being serious,” Hei-Ran replied, one corner of her lips rose upward in more amusement, “You will have to manage multiple persons and weigh which ones are the greater priority should something occur. Do you think you can handle this?”

“Of course,” Rangi steeled her features, she vowed that no harm would come to Yun or Kyoshi. If anything did come between them she would burn it to ashes. They were dealing with a daofei after all, nothing they could do or say would rattle her.

#kyoshi #the rise of kyoshi #avatar the last airbender #fanfiction #rangi

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misswildfire · 4 years

Text

Empathic Pain

For as long as Mikey had known, he had been different. He wasn’t just talking about the fact that he was a mutated turtle, or that he knew ninjutsu or that he lived in the sewers below New York City. No, this marked him different from his brothers. Don had once referred to him being an empath, or having the ability to sense other people’s emotions or mental state. He didn’t need to be in the same room to see his brothers body language to know how they were feeling. Touch made the emotions he felt from someone stronger. Getting pinned down and beaten by a group of Purple Dragons has disastrous consequences for the youngest turtle.

For @brightlotusmoon Thank you for all your support.

He found comfort in knowing what his brothers were feeling. It allowed him to be able to react as necessary, push when they needed it or back off when the situations called for it. Perhaps it was because he spent his life with his brothers he was use to their emotions, it was familiar, calming even. The first time he had really gone to the surface with his brothers and spent a longer period around humans had grated on him in ways he hadn’t expected. It had been exciting, new, scary, and very, very loud both in the physical sense and in the emotions that they projected.

Mikey wasn’t sure if he was just use to his brothers so their emotions weren’t as distracting, but he found himself constantly distracted by the emotions from the humans. The closer they were to him, the louder they were. The first time April had touched him, he had nearly passed out, her emotions quickly overwhelming him. He had gotten it a bit more under control now, happier emotions were easier for him to process and filter out, it was more negative emotions that he had a harder time dealing with.

Night was the best time to be on the surface for him. Even though New York was known as the City that Never Sleeps, most of the humans were asleep and when they slept, their emotions weren’t as loud. It gave him a break and allowed him to be able to enjoy his time topside.

Brought of his musing as he dodged another blow from a Purple Dragon. He and his brothers had been ambushed while on patrol and there were more of them than usual. Gritting his teeth he spun his nunchuks faster, taking out one that dared to get to close. He normally relied on his speed and agility to keep him out of his enemies reach. He hated being around them, the negative emotions, the hatred and disgust they felt towards him and his brothers sometimes left him breathless. The few times that someone experience some minor negative emotions like fear, had been physically painful when there had been physical contact.

So far he had been lucky that none of them have landed a physical blow during a fight, but tonight, his luck was about to run out. He was tired and his reactions must have been slower than normal. He had been up most of the previous night, for once not goofing off or playing video games or reading comics, but because he had been worried about Don who was burning himself out trying to upgrade their security system. He desperately wanted to help, take some of the burden off his purple masked brother, but he didn’t know how. He wasn’t good with technology and Don usually found him more of a hindrance than help. His senses dulled, he didn’t see the Purple Dragon sneak behind him and whack him in the back of the head with a staff, or see the other who came in to take him out at the knees causing him to crash to the ground.

Physical pain from fighting he could deal with, blows from weapons, or falling hard. He’d been training all his life and could deal and even brush most of that off and keep going. It was the physical pain from negative emotions caused by his empathy he didn’t know how to handle. When a Purple Dragon grabbed him and roughly flipped him over so he was laying on his shell, he couldn’t stop the whimper that broke free. White hot pain seared through him, threatening to quickly overwhelm him. Disgust, anger and hatred bombarded him. When another Dragon joined the first Mikey knew he was in trouble. He couldn’t stop them from taking his wrists and dragging them above his head, pinning him down or the third that grabbed his ankles and pinned him from there. The constant contact was absolutely hell. His wrists and ankles seared in pain as if in contact with something hot enough to burn. Part of him wanted to look and see if his skin was actually blistering. He tried to struggle, tried to get free, tried to recall the training that had been drilled into him his entire life, but the pain left him gasping for breath, unable to move. When another Purple Dragon started raining punches upon any available piece of skin he could reach, Mikey knew he was done for. A scream tore from his throat and his back arched involuntarily, body thrashing in an instinctual attempt to get away from the pain.

Never in his life had he experienced this level of pain before. Every inch of his skin felt on fire. His brain felt like mush, no longer able to process any emotions or any level of thought. He wasn’t aware of anything except the searing, excruciating pain that filled ever pore. So overwhelmed, he didn’t notice when the sources of his pain were ripped away from him, one by one. He didn’t notice as Donnie gathered him in his arms, murmuring reassurances to him. Moving was painful and he whimpered as Don moved.

He was so incredibly over stimulated that things that normally felt good, his brothers emotions, being held by them, left him feeling raw and aching. Nothing felt good, everything felt like white hot fire. His mind and body no longer able to take anything more, he lost consciousness, going limp in his mates arms.

Hearing his youngest mate scream in pain like that was something that was going to haunt Leonardo for a long time to come. Looking back on that moment later, he would wonder if he, Raph and Don shared a brain in that singular second. They moved as if one; Raph and Don racing to their orange clad mate and Leo finishing off the remainder of the Purple Dragons with a ferocity he had never felt before, taking a defensive position to protect his family in case their enemy dared to try and approach. Raph quickly disposed of the Purple Dragon scum who had dared to hurt his mate, allowing Don to quickly assess him for any critical injuries before scooping him in his arms and making a hasty retreat. Raph took the wheel, with Don and Leo piling in the back with Mikey still in the purple clad terrapins arms.

“Here, you take him,” Don murmured, feeling the need to keep his voice down. Accepting his youngest mate, Leo couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at the genius. “He needs calm emotions and we all know you have the best control out of any of us.” He cradled Mikey close, quickly trying to centre himself. He wanted to rage, lash out, the anger that someone had dared hurt his mate churning inside him. He pushed it down, knowing he would have to experience and meditate through those emotions later. Right now, he needed to be calm, as the last thing he wanted was to cause any more pain.

“Will he be okay?” he asked, once he felt he had gotten his emotions under control.

“He will....eventually,” Don said, frowning. “But something needs to change. We were lucky that this was a relatively minor attack, but what if he had been worse?” The implication of what if their enemies got a hold of them and tortured or experimented on them hanging thick in the air. “We can’t bar him from patrol with us forever, but the status quo can’t remain the same either.” They all knew that Mikey hated to be excluded and not allowing him to come on patrol would not only put a rift between them, but could potentially do more harm to his mental health than anything. Besides, it wasn’t as if they really wanted to leave him behind.

“Any ideas?”

“Some sort of mental shield like you see in the movies?” Don shrugged. He really had no idea how to help their baby brother. “I’ve been looking into Mikey’s abilities on and off for years. Since it appeared that it was under control and he only ever mentioned that the humans were loud, I didn’t have any cause for concern...” Don shuddered visibly upset. “I never pursued it further. Clearly a massive error on my part.” Glancing at his only younger brother, the purple glad genius couldn’t help the sinking feeling that he had utterly failed in his one job to protect him. He could only hope that Mikey would forgive him one day.

“Don’t go there,” Raph rumbled from the drivers seat, having stayed uncharacteristically quiet up until this point. He desperately wanted to rage, to take out the anger he felt on their enemies but he knew right now his priority was getting his family back to the safety of their lair so Don could tend to their youngest mate. So he swallowed his anger, feeling it bubbling just below the surface. He knew it would break at some point, he had never been good at controlling his emotions, not like Fearless, but he was trying. He was definitely going to have a very intense workout later or spar with Leo to get it out of his system since there weren’t any Purple Dragons around for him to punch. “If you failed him, than so did we. We all knew how sensitive he is to our emotions, especially when he’s touchin’ us. It didn’t occur to any of us that this may cause a bigger problem since the humans were loud, so if you failed so did we. We all fucked up.” He glanced in the rear view mirror, smirking as he saw Leo frowning when he cussed. The more he got him worked up, the better their sparring match in and out of the bedroom would be later. It seemed to him they could both let off a little steam later, do them both good. Once they were certain that Mikey was going to be okay, that was.

“Don...” Leo looked down at the unconscious turtle in his arms. He wasn’t if what he was doing was helping at all, Mikey still looked to be in pain.

“Just keep holding him. His systems are probably overloaded right now. Besides, you know he loves cuddling you the most.” Don shot his older brother a half grin. It was true. Even as children, Mikey had always gone to Leo for cuddles, proclaiming that their eldest brother gave the best cuddles ever. They had all long suspected it was because Leo’s emotions were the most even and tranquil out of all of them. The youngest had once described Raph’s emotions as being like Raph himself, strong and intense. While Don on the other hand he had described as almost an electric buzzing, similar to the noise his electronics and computers in his lab made. His emotions ran quick, much like the thoughts in his head.

The leader of their little family nodded, hugging his youngest mate closer to his body. The feeling of being useless was nearly overwhelming. This wasn’t a physical enemy he could vanquish, he could do nothing to help the thunderous storm taking place inside Mikey, no matter how much he wished to. All he could do was hope that his emotions would break through and provide some peace for his little brother.

Stirring slightly, Mikey felt a soft, calm presence enveloping him. It felt oh so familiar but for the life of him, he couldn’t place it. Just beyond he felt two more presence that were familiar. It was at the tip of his tongue...why did they feel so familiar?

Mates.

He felt calm and safe, a far cry from the earlier pain he had been in. What had caused that pain again? Right. Purple Dragons. Ambush on patrol. Held him down. So much pain. He backed away from the memory, focusing instead on the comfort he was surrounded by. His mates must have rescued him. The thought brought him some comfort. At least he didn’t have to worry about more pain. Feeling the air shift around, he felt himself moving or being moved rather. Where were they bringing him? He could hear his mates voices, concentrating he tried to figure out what they were saying.

“Should I bring him to your Lab, Don?”

“No, he should be fine with some sleep, just put him to bed. If you or Raph could stay with him, that would be ideal. Mikey felt himself moving again before being placed on something soft. He could feel Leo’s worry. He really should wake up, he hated it when his eldest brother worried about him. Fighting his way towards the warmth that he could feel, he opened his eyes slowly.

“Did you catch the licence plate of that truck?” he tried to joke weakly, his mouth feeling dry. He could really use some water right now.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Leo murmured softly, pressing his forehead to his youngest mate.

“Been better,” he replied honestly, knowing better than to try and hide anything from Leo. It never worked out well for him in the end. He was achy, and sore and still felt completely out of whack. He bit his lip as his memory of the night fully returned. Oh boy. He had messed up royally. Tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. How much of a burden did he need to be for his family? Twice now they’ve had to rescue him. On top of being useless, he knew he was needy. He hated being alone and was forever pestering one of his mates to hang out with him. Did they even still want him? He couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over and trailing down his face. Perhaps it was better for everyone if he just left.

“Mikey, Mikey, hey, what’s wrong?” Leo ran his hands over his youngest mate, trying to find any injuries he had missed that would cause the youngest to cry like this.

“I- I really messed up, I’m sorry.” He buried his head in Leo’s plastron, not wanting to see the anger he was sure to be in his mate’s eyes.

The blue clad turtle blinked in confusion, momentarily stunned by the words he just heard coming from his youngest brothers mouth. “Michelangelo, sweetling, listen to me.” He waited patiently for Mikey to lift his head and look at him. “If anyone is owed an apology, it’s you. We’ve known about your ability for years now and we’ve never done anything to help you control it. We just assumed it was fully under control because you never said otherwise. You got hurt today because we failed you.”

Had they ever failed their youngest mate. Cupping the orange one’s jaw, he titled his mates head so he could slid his lips against the other in a chaste kiss. He smiled as Mikey sighed in pleasure, some of the tension in his body melting away.

“I want to show you how sorry I am, may I?” When Mikey nodded, Leo gently pushed him back into the plush mattress of his bed, trailing kisses down his plastron. His hands stroked the sensitive area of where their shell met flesh, knowing how much Mikey enjoyed the sensation. Purposefully, he moved past the swollen slit, glad he had the foresight to remove Mikey’s clothing before putting him to bed, instead turning his attention to his quivering thighs. He nipped each one in turn, soothing it with his tongue. When Mikey shifted his hips impatiently, he pinched his tail, loving the moan he got as a reward.

“Good things come to those who wait, Michelangelo,” he teased, pinching the others tail once more. His mate distracted by the attention on his tail, the leader leaned down, tongue licking the full length of his slit. He continued to lavish attention on the sensitive flesh, alternating licks, sucks and nips. His hands having moved to the younger’ hips, keeping him pinned in place, forcing him to accept the pleasure he was simultaneously seeking and trying to get away from, his senses still very much overstimulated from earlier.

“Drop down for me,” he demanded, the answering whine the only warning he got before his mates cock revealed itself to his gaze. “You’re so good for me,” he praised before taking Mikey into his mouth, quickly working his way down to the hilt. His goal of trying to keep the younger off balance, not knowing what to expect, so he had no choice but to focus on the feelings he was experiencing now, seemed to be working. Humming, he reached down to play with Mikey’s tail as he started to bob up and down slowly, intent on working his mate into a frenzy. It didn’t take long for Michelangelo to become a sobbing, pleading mess, but he kept his pace, knowing that the longer he drew it out, the more intense the orgasm would be. He knew exactly how to play his younger brothers pleasure like a fiddle. His thumb circling the puckered hole, his two fingers squeezing his mates tail gently, Leo knew it wouldn’t be much longer. Taking him once more down to the hilt, he relaxed his throat, he swallowed, knowing the sensation would send Mikey tumbling over the edge.

Making sure to lick him clean from root to tip, Leo moved to lay down beside Mikey, gathering his younger mate in his arms.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, nuzzling into Mikey’s throat.

“So good, gimme a minute dude and I can return the favour.”

“No, tonight was about you. I’m fine.” And he was. It was enough for him that his mate was home safe, his other two mates were somewhere else in the lair. He knew as much as Raph liked to push the rules and go out, he would stay in tonight, most likely comforting Donatello who never took one of his brothers being injured, especially if he thought it was something he could have prevented well. His family was together and they were safe and that was all that he needed. For now, they would sleep, the exhaustion written on Mikey’s face was as plain as day to him. He had a feeling the youngest of them would have a very busy morning with his two elder brothers wanting to make up the wrongs they’ve committed to him.

Saving those thoughts for the morning, he pulled the blankets up around them and settled into sleep, Mikey securely in his arms.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tcest #tmnt imagines #leonardo x michelangelo #leo x mikey #ot4 implied #raph x don #leo x raph x don x mikey #leo/raph/don/mikey #tmnt leo #tmnt mikey #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #empath mikey #hurt comfort #tmnt headcannons

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justlookatthosesausages · 4 years

Text

‘Emergence’ - an interactive fanfic

=======

CHAPTER 6

=======

“Moooorning!” Chimed Anna, shaking her elder awake.

Elsa grumbled, struggling to open her eyes. Why did her sister always have to shake her body when she wanted to wake her up?

Anna saw how tired Elsa was, and wondered if she had slept properly.

“Hey, you haven’t told me... Did you get new nightmares?”

“Hmm-what?” Muttered Elsa as she turned, her voice croaky.

Anna chuckled. Her elder often said that Anna was a disaster waking up, but at the way Elsa was rubbing her eyes now, it was clear that she had some tough mornings as well. She was adorable doing so, however. And Anna forgot her question for a moment, shaking her sister again with a touched smile.

“I’m awake, I’m awake.” Groaned Elsa. “What did you say?”

“I was asking you if you still had nightmares. I mean, those visions you don’t like with the statues of the past.”

The evocation of it made Elsa awake faster. She blinked and frowned, sitting up.

“I don’t dislike them. It’s just that Ahtohallan submit them to me. So I’m not always in the mood.”

Anna bent her head in an insisting way. “What I want to know, is if you had other visions of sad moments. It disturbs your sleep, as you told me. I’m just making sure that you get proper sleep.”

At the way Elsa had yawned during her sentence, so much that she could have unhinged her jaw, Anna had her answer.

“You had more, don’t you?”

“No!” Hurried to say Elsa, her voice clear now. Her eyes seemed to focus as well, despite being wet after yawning. “No, I don’t have any new ones. I would have told you. It’s just... I’ve been thinking a lot at night, lately. Just like you.”

The redhead saw how she diverted the subject on her to avoid talking about it. She shouldn’t have told her about her sleep schedule the day before around the camp fire.

“Nope, we’re not talking about me right now. I’m worried for you. How much did you sleep last night?”

“You were just there. You know.” Smiled Elsa, waving her hand at the tent they had just slept in.

“I meant, the night before.”

The blonde winced a bit. “Not much.”

Anna lost her soft face and switched to a sad one. “Elsa...”

“Oh, come on, don’t give me that look. Not that early in the morning.” Whined the elder.

She stood up, and went to the entrance of the tent. “I’m going to bring you tea. Yelena makes the best brews. I suppose that you want some bread as well?”

Anna wasn’t thinking about food, she needed to ask more questions about Elsa’s health. However, her stomach gurgled, and the Fifth Spirit chuckled at the sound.

“Let’s take several slices of bread.”

On that, she opened the tent, and the bright light of the forest came in. Anna hissed at it, and raised a hand to protect her face from the intrusion.

“Can’t we just stay in bed? Please? I took a day off, it’s not to wake up at the same time I usually do.”

“Sorry, but here, once you’re awake, you’re awake.”

“Say the one who just yawned to death.”

“Well, now I’m standing and ready to start the day. And you’re still seated on the bed.”

Anna stuck her tongue out.

“You’re not even dressed”, pointed the younger.

Elsa raised an unimpressed and quite sarcastic eyebrow, and waved her hands. In one go, her night gown vanished and a whole new dress appeared on her in a dance of snowflakes. Anna groaned and let herself fall back on the bed.

“This is so unfair.”

The blonde laughed with a clear voice, and her smiling face was highlighted by her white outfit and the warm rays of the morning sun.

“We can make a breakfast in bed, if you want.”

Anna rose a hand and pointed a thumb up as an appreciation.

=======

“Does she always have this energy on mornings?” Asked Ryder, concerned as he saw Anna train with the Northuldra on a staff fight session.

Kristoff smiled with deep love. “Always. She takes a lot of time to wake up, but once she’s up, she’s a true powerhouse, and never stops until the sun is down.”

Ryder noticed how he had just said that with a mellow voice, and followed by an admirative sigh. He cringed in disgust.

“I’ll never understand it.”

“What?” Asked Kristoff, distracted by the moves of Anna, not detaching his eyes from her.

“Nothing.”

Elsa joined them, still enjoying her mug of tea.

“You’re not training this morning?” Inquired Ryder.

She shook her head to say no as she drank. Her brother-in-law turned to her.

“Wait, you train to fight every morning?”

“If I slept in the camp, yeah. Why?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know. I just... Hardly imagine you fighting with a staff.”

“I don’t”, snorted Elsa. “I use magic.”

“Yep, and she wins every time.” Sighed Ryder, who had stopped counting his bruises - but still asked to train against her whenever he could -.

“Isn’t that cheating? Using magic against wooden weapons?” Pointed out the blond.

“Are you calling me a cheater?”

Kristoff crossed his arms. “I’m only stating the obvious.”

“Excuse me... Who’s the one who made sound effects on last charades night??”

He rose a finger. “First of all, you still have no proof of that. Second of all, that’s in the rules.”

“It’s NOT in the rules. You and Olaf really need to check them for next time, you’re the worst at it.”

Ryder was in the middle of their interactions, and felt like they were about to punch each other, but they suddenly burst in laughter. He stared at them in confusion.

Anna approached, twirling her staff around with ease. “Hearing you two laugh that hard is stimulating on mornings.”

She took the cloth Elsa gave her and wiped her face with it. With an excited smile, she extended her arm and bumped Ryder on the head with her stick. “You’re taking the next round?”

Challenge passed in his eyes. “I’m coming!”

As he followed her back to the training area, he turned to Elsa and Kristoff. “Do you think I have a chance?” He whispered, a bit worried, for he had never fought against Anna.

“Uh-uh”, assured Elsa as she shook no with her head.

“Not in a million years”, said Kristoff with a puff.

The Northuldra gulped. “...Really?”

Elsa waved at him with a mocking smirk. “Good luck.”

He joined Anna, who was jumping on her feet in impatience.

“I’m gonna prepare him an ice pack.” Murmured Elsa.

“Yeah, good idea.” Whispered Kristoff.

=======

Anna was walking in the reindeer paddock with Elsa by her side, and loved those moments when they took care of the animals. As she scratched the muzzle of one of them, she turned to her sister.

“Say, have you seen new memories of Mama and Papa?”

Elsa looked up at the sky as she thought. “Not since the ones I saw in Ahtohallan on my first time, and I already told you about them a lot.”

“And no new ones, given to you in your meditation and stuff?”

“No, sorry.”

Anna chuckled. “Don’t apologize. It’s not due to you.”

“I know, it’s just... I wish I could give you more. More memories, more details. You deserve to know more as much as I do.”

“The past will be revealed little by little, I suppose.”

Elsa nodded, and they kept walking in the field. Suddenly, a thought struck Anna’s mind.

“Wait a minute.”

“What??” Worried the blonde.

“The memories you get through your mind... In visions... I mean, any memory you get when you’re not actually in the memories room. They’re all from our past, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the concept of a memory”, replied Elsa, who wondered for a second if her sister had become stupid.

“But those submitted memories are from our past, every time, aren’t they?”

She pointed at the two of them. And Elsa widened her eyes when she understood what she meant. The realization struck her mind as well.

“Oh my goodness...”

“YES.”

“Are you saying...”

“I don’t know what I’m saying. I just connected the dots. It’s up to you to tell me now why the source only send you memories from the two of us.”

“I don’t know!” Exclaimed Elsa, in a tone that was half alarmed and half offended.

Anna stared at her. “Do you think... Oh damn, I hope it doesn’t mean that I’m gonna die soon.”

“Anna!!”

“I’m just joking.”

“You know I don’t like it when you joke about that.”

“Sorry. It’s just... It’s usually meaningful, no? Like, Ahtohallan showed you a memory of Mother when she was young first and foremost.”

“Yes, it can’t just be chance, I agree with you. There’s something to decipher, I can feel it.”

Anna nodded. As she walked, a reindeer bumped its head to her arm, asking for scratches too. She smiled and gave them with love. Her face got serious however as she turned back to Elsa.

“Tell me in a letter the next time you see a new one, okay? Immediately.”

“I promise.”

=======

She however didn’t have to wait long. And a letter wasn’t necessary. For her next vision happened within the day, and even before the night would fall.

“Isn’t that a bit high?” Smirked Anna, looking up.

“It’s fine. Honeymaren and Ryder taught me how to climb trees.”

“Oh, I know, I remember the time you showed me this summer. I don’t doubt your talent, I just want to make sure that you don’t hurt yourself.”

“I can see the whole land from here.” Smiled Elsa, fifteen meters above. “I’m actually thinking of building a tree house here, because it’s a strategic point.”

“Uh-uh.” Said Anna, shaking her head.

With her hands on her hips, she looked around her, imagining the view she had from the branch she was sitting on. She would have liked to join her sister, but her courage couldn’t cancel her clumsiness: there was a high chance for her to fall and break her arm or something. Which, given her Queen duties, was really something to avoid.

Elsa looked to the horizon with a smiling content face, looking at the river. The sun was reflecting on the waters, with a bright white glow. She didn’t think of squinting her eyes as her gaze fell on it, and the sudden light drilled in her pupils. As she slightly moaned in pain, she thought it was weird, because she got used to the brightness of the sun. But the reflection light got more intense, and suddenly turned into a flash.

Elsa screamed at how strong the flash was, and got the heaviest vision of Ahtohallan she ever had since she gained her new power: in one second, she saw a third person point of view of Anna and herself in ice statues, representing them talking to each other. The Spirit clenched her eyes shut, squinting at the brisk dose of white. She tried to focus, but she felt like her mind was turning to cotton. With all the effort she could assemble, she tried to understand when the memory was taking place. Elsa understood when she saw the dress Anna was wearing, and her coronation cape weighing on her own shoulders.

The statues slowly sneaked awkward peaks at each other, and it then felt like a static electricity shock happened between them. Like two words collided. Like an explosion occurred at a touching point.

“...Hi.”

“Hi me...? Oh. Um. Hi.”

“...You---”

And the flash ended just as quick as it appeared. The forest landscape spring up again to Elsa’s vision, but she barely saw it.

She felt all strength leaving her body, slowly drifting into unconsciousness. She knew that she was drifting out of the branch because she was losing her balance. Elsa was tilting to the ground...

By simple curiosity, Anna lifted her head to her sister, wondering when she would be done. Her face turned pale in a second when she saw that Elsa’s eyes were rolling to the back of her head, her body limp, and that she was falling backwards off the branch.

“ELSA!!” Yelled Anna with all the force in her lungs.

She rushed as fast as she could under the tree, just in time to catch the lifeless body of her elder.

With a ‘oof!’, she fell to the grass, rolling along with her due to the sudden impact. Hopefully, they both made it without a scratch, and Anna’s breath got stuck in her chest from the shocking situation.

“ELSA! ELSA!!” She panicked, urging to shake the blonde’s shoulders.

They were at the borders of the village, and some Northuldra had ran to them when they heard her screams.

Slowly, Elsa opened her eyes and came back to reality. She blinked, and took notion of how much time she had been unconscious.

“A-”

“Oh thanks goodness you’re okay.” Sighed heavily Anna, tackling her sister in a tight hug, which could have make Elsa faint just as much.

“It’s... It was Ahtohallan, again.” Muttered Elsa on her shoulder, regaining her strength.

“WHAT?”

She asked Anna to help her stand with a simple gesture, seeing how everyone was staring at her. The redhead frowned once they stood up completely.

“It was a vision of Ahtohallan that made you faint?? But... This could have been so dangerous!”

“I’m alright.”

“You fell off the tree!!”

“It’s fine.”

“The tree is so high!! You could have died!!”

“I’m alive right now.”

“BECAUSE I SAVED YOU!!”

Elsa bit her lip. She couldn’t deny that.

Anna grumbled, sighing with raw anger.

“Okay. That’s enough. This is the last straw. We’re going to Ahtohallan. I’m gonna show them who’s boss.”

The blonde calmed her with a hand on her arm, seeing how her younger had clenched her fists.

“You know you can’t go there.”

Anna fulminated. “Well, I’ll just go in the first room.”

“No, it’s too cold for you.”

“It’s just a glacier. I’ve done worse.”

“Anna, don’t--”

“Let me come. Stop protecting me. You’re clearly the one who needs protection right now!”

Olaf, Kristoff and Honeymaren had joined the crowd of Northuldra.

“Anna is right. You should go.” Advised Honeymaren.

Elsa changed her mind a bit at her suggestion, but that wasn’t enough. She stood firmly on her decision, stubborn as always: there was no way Anna would ever go to Ahtohallan. It was too dangerous.

“I want to go, Elsa.” Insisted the Queen, seeing how reluctant she was. Her hands clenched her sister’s. “Ahtohallan owes you an explanation for all those visions, and I will obtain it.”

The Fifth Spirit got a bit offended by the way she expressed it.

“It’s not someone you can actually punch, Anna.”

The redhead frowned at the mean allusion.

“Maybe, but I have the intention to make them be explicit. And we will confront it until we get answers.”

“Anna!!” Scolded the elder.

“WHAT?!”

They were now arguing on a loud level, despite standing right in front of each other, and some Sami exchanged looks.

“We will NOT do that.”

“And why not?” Exclaimed Anna, dropping Elsa’s hands to lift her arms exaggeratedly in the air.

“BECAUSE I RESPECT IT! It's the source of my magic, it's what makes me me, and I won't reproach it anything!”

“So you’re defending it? Despite what it causes you?”

“It must have a reason.”

“But it makes you go crazy!!”

"Are you saying i'm crazy?” Frowned Elsa, groaning at the insult.

“NO, but LOOK AT YOU! You're barely standing!” Yelled the younger.

“I'M FINE!!” Screamed the blonde back, and she was so violent doing so that Olaf and Kristoff blinked in surprise.

She sniffed with a furious frown. “We are NOT going to Ahtohallan. You are not going.”

“Why? Because I’d freeze to death?” Guessed Anna, eye-rolling.

“Exactly because of that!”

“That could just be an excuse of yours right now. You don’t want me to disrespect the magic source, uh? Even if it’s to have answers for you?”

Elsa frowned, her mouth twisted. “No.”

“So we’re not going.”

“NO.”

There was a silence. Anna clenched her jaw.

“Then we’re done here.”

“...What?”

Anna took a step back. Away from her sister. As if hearing Elsa’s final decision made her physically disgusted. She looked at her from head to toe.

“I don’t have anything else to tell you. You want it to make you turn crazy? Good for you. Have fun suffering, if you don’t want to listen to my advice.”

Elsa blinked, taken aback. Her jaw slightly dropped. Anna turned around.

“Kristoff, let’s go.”

The mountaineer blinked, confused, and almost everyone looked at him.

“Uh?”

“We’re leaving.” Blurted the Queen.

“But...”

“I SAID LET’S GO.”

“I... alright.”

Elsa watched Anna join Kristoff and Olaf, and she signed to Sven to pick them up. She couldn’t believe her eyes. But her surprise turned into boiled anger in her stomach, shocked by her younger’s behavior.

“YEAH, WELL, GO!” Yelled the Spirit, her voice strong with rage. “IF YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY I DON’T WANT TO CONFRONT AHTOHALLAN, THEN YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ME!”

Anna’s back shivered and stood still for a moment at Elsa’s harsh words, acting like daggers. The crowd even gasped discreetly. But the younger shook her head with a mutter as she climbed on Sven. Silently, Kristoff followed her move, giving a sorry face to those looking at them. Sven slightly grunted.

Olaf looked devastated, his eyes glistening with tears, not knowing what to do. Elsa was fulminating, and he wanted to run to her and hug her. But Anna had her arm outstretched to him.

“Olaf. Come. She’s never been good at goodbyes anyway.”

Elsa missed a heartbeat at this sentence, hurting her deeply.

She barely had the time to digest it, that in a blink, Olaf climbed on Sven’s back, and in one swift move and a sound of hooves, the four of them left the forest to the South.

Elsa’s knees trembled, as she saw them go away. Her heart and soul felt like collapsing, and when she felt the concerned look of the Northuldra on her back, she called Nokk.

The water spirit appeared out of the nearest pond and jumped to her. It neighed in worry, feeling her emotion, but she shook her head and gave no explanation, riding them immediately. She planted her heels in their sides, and it dashed along the crowd of people, who jumped aside with a gasp.

Ironically, the two sisters were doing the same move at the same moment. Both riding to the horizon at high speed, hands clenched, frowning as they looked forward, tears flying in the air. Only, they were riding in opposite directions.

Anna was heading to Arendelle’s castle, where she knew she would run to her bed and cry on her pillow, and Elsa was heading to the dark woods, where she knew she would break down and sob on the ground.

=======

Days passed with a very gloomy atmosphere. The sisters stayed angry, and didn’t exchange any letter for so long that it surprised everyone.

“She hasn’t been corresponding with her?” Worried Gerda.

“No, not even a simple message. I mean, I can’t precisely know, because they don’t use the regular post service...” Muttered Kai. “But I’m certain that Queen Anna hasn’t been sending anything in the past days.”

Gerda sighed with a sad pout. “Poor girl...”

The servant was taking care of dinner with the cooks, and decided to bake a cake to make her more happy.

Kai saw her walk to the flour bags, and grabbed her arm. He shook his head.

“It’s no use. She has been refusing every pastry we proposed her.”

Gerda widened her eyes. “Anna? Refusing pastries?”

Kai nodded slowly with a sad face.

The woman passed a hand on her mouth. “My poor, poor girl... What happened...”

=======

"She hasn’t been sending anything? Not even... I don’t know, a gift?” Worried Ryder.

Honeymaren shook her head, looking down with sadness.

“She can ask me to carve a little cute gift. I’m really good a carving wooden sheep.” Suggested the Northuldra.

“Don’t bother, Ryder.” Said the brunette, putting her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “She’s not in the mood.”

The Northuldra twisted his mouth as he thought. He knew Elsa since a year now... What was making her happy again when she was feeling down? He hummed as he thought, and then he naturally lifted his head to Honeymaren. She was the one.

“Hey, you should go see her. She needs your support.”

The woman stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “I can have a try.”

=======

When the brunette stepped to Elsa’s tent, however, she felt very reticent about entering. She took a long breath in, hoping for the best, and stepped inside.

She cared about Elsa a lot, maybe more than the blonde even knew, and more than she even admitted herself, so she felt in her core that it only could end well.

Honeymaren wasn’t surprised to see that Elsa was a mess when she saw her, but it broke her heart anyway. She had been in the same state for the passing days.

At the light of the lanterns in the room, the blonde was seated on the bed, looking down as she was muttering to herself, her hair messy, her hands clenched.

When the Sami entered, she stood up in a jump.

“What have I done?” Exclaimed Elsa.

“Oh, nothing. I was just checking if you were alright.” Said Honeymaren softly, reassuring her.

“Why did I say that to her??” Continued Elsa on the same panicked tone.

The brunette realized that she wasn’t actually talking to her, but lost in her thoughts. However, Elsa actually was sharing her reflections out loud, which was rare. The arrival of Honeymaren had open a part of her, and she probably was the only person she was comfortable to confess too.

“I shouldn’t have done that. Why did I do that? I pushed her away, like always, I’m such a monster... I shouldn’t have refused her advice, I just...”

She had started crying, and was now pacing around with the most nervous speed that the Northuldra had ever seen. Elsa sometimes had panic attacks, but this was the most severe one.

“What kind of sister I am? The worst. I’m the worst. What have I done, Honeymaren?”

The woman was about to reply, but Elsa kept pacing around.

“I’m only doing that to protect her! Why can’t she understand that? She can’t go into Ahtohallan, she knows it! I just want her to be safe! And... And she was right about wanting me to be safe after all those visions as well. Agh, she was so right, I’m so stupid, I’m so stupid...”

Honeymaren watched her attentively and silently as she kept rambling, sobbing, panicking. The brunette couldn’t do anything, and found herself still in a corner of the tent, staring at the blonde pacing around. Elsa’s long hair was twirling every time she turned, her locks waving at each insistent move of the hands as she had a new strong point to make.

The Northuldra realized a lot of things she never noticed before. How come she never noticed those features before? How come she never noticed the way Elsa’s big blue eyes sparkled when she was expressive? How come she never noticed the way Elsa’s few freckles were enhanced by the soft light of the lanterns? How come she never noticed how her outfit sparkled when she moved, when she breathed?

And why did she notice those details now?

Honeymaren stepped forward, and Elsa kept walking around. She was getting more and more nervous, and she had to calm her down. At her next turn, Honeymaren faced her, and Elsa stopped right in her tracks, to avoid bumping on her.

There were a few seconds of silence, as she wondered why the woman was staring at her.

“...What?” She asked.

Honeymaren approached her face to hers.

And kissed Elsa on the lips.

It was tender, soft, surprising. There was a moment of floating, like time got magically paused.

Slowly, Honeymaren pulled away. They stared at each other, speechless. Elsa had her mouth open, her face covered with tears, her eyes wide.

Honeymaren cleared her throat. “I’m sorry.”

Another silence passed.

“I shouldn’t have.” She muttered.

It caused a blank, and Elsa actually forgot what she even was talking about, what she even was sad and panicked about. All those feelings were like gone, vanishing away. Instead, in the center of her brain and heart, now sparkled something completely different, so radiating that it pushed everything away. Pure, soft, beaming love.

Honeymaren looked down after Elsa’s lack of answer, and muttered “I’m sorry” again, before walking past her to leave the tent.

But right before she did, something held her arm. She turned around, and Elsa was staring at her, her big blue eyes filled with new tears.

And they weren’t sad ones, Honeymaren could tell by a simple gaze. Her heart jumped in her chest.

Elsa stepped forward to her, closed her eyes, and kissed her back.

Her kiss was longer than Honeymaren’s, even softer, but more humid too. Elsa’s lips trembled.

The brunette got worried, so when Elsa stopped the kiss and took a shaking inspiration, she slowly stepped back and looked at the blonde.

“Are you okay?”

Elsa stared at her again, silently again, and gulped. She had stopped crying, yet didn’t rub her tears, and they kept making her cheeks glisten in the light of the lanterns.

Honeymaren couldn’t decode her expression. Elsa looked like a thousand emotions were bumping in her mind at the same time, and she was still processing what had just happened. She stared at Honeymaren’s eyes, and the latter worried.

“Elsa, are you sure that you want th--”

The blonde jumped to Honeymaren’s arms and kissed her again. This time, it was deep, and passionate, and the Northuldra closed her eyes and gave all of her love back.

It was mutual, with a shared strength. As the kiss regained and continued, they put their arms around each other, Honeymaren’s hands passing in Elsa’s hair, Elsa slightly clenching Honeymaren’s coat, feelings roaming her skin.

The kiss was intense, loving, warm...

And unexpectedly, healing.

=======

:D A very emotional chapter! I warned you guys, always have tissues at the ready. This is a very meaningful chapter to me, and it’s a key pivot point in the story. Get ready for what follows...

What do you want to see next? This is an interactive fanfic! You get to choose, yep I listen to you. Give suggestions in your reblogs, fellas.

(NB: If you like my style, you can check out Untangling the Frozen Knots, my 140K words fanfic novel!)

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experimentalmadness · 4 years

Text

Show Off (Inquisitor/Cullen)

Cullen watches the Inquisitor train and decides to enter the ring himself.

(Y’all if anyone remembers my Yael Lavellan, I got inspired to do another one-shot after 8 million years. Yeehaw.)

Watching the Inquisitor train was something of a spectacle in Skyhold. A small gathering had formed along the pen’s outer fence and all the southside battlements had a cluster of soldiers who were supposed to be on their morning rotation.

It took the three women a whole half minute before they noticed their Commander staring down at them. Cullen had to bite his lip as they rattled in their armor, shuffled a salute, and waited with stiff-necked anxiety at his chastisement. His gaze slipped from them to the commotion down below. He did not even attempt to hide his smile.

“I hear there’s a bet going on in the barracks,” Cullen said, folding his arms behind his back. “Collects at the end of the week. Fifty silver so far on the Inquisitor. Safe bet, I imagine.”

The soldiers didn’t dare answer him even as he chuckled a little despite himself. “At ease before you strain something.” All three women breathed out a sigh that only mildly reminded Cullen of a broken bellows. “You’re not going to be stripped of rank for admiring your Inquisitor.”

If that were the case he’d have been demoted months ago, he thought as he watched a great gout of flame erupt over the training pen.

“Yes, sir, thank you sir,” the soldiers announced in unison.

He quirked an eyebrow up at they continued standing motionless before him. “However, if I don’t see you at your posts within the hour I’ll be sure to inform the Inquisitor. I’m sure she would love nothing more than to indulge all three of you in a few up close rounds of combat drills.”

The soldiers had already begun to take off with great haste before he could even finish the thought. There was a reason Yael kept her training within that of her inner circle and not the rank and file of her army. No one wanted to face her. No one with sense at any rate.

A laugh echoed up from the courtyard, barking mad and crackling with magic. Yael wielded a staff in one hand and her astral blade in the other, keeping up a steady rhythm against Cassandra, Iron Bull, and Dorian. Fire flickered around her, singeing the ground black wherever she stepped. It roared out of her as natural as breath, Cullen doubted she was even aware of it.

It wasn’t that she was the best fighter, nor even the most skilled mage. There was a primal energy in Yael’s attacks. Something unpredictable and even harder to control. Even if she hadn’t been a mage, Cullen thought, she would have still been this fierce warrior—the tempest at the heart of the battlefield.

A splintering crack shattered his thoughts as Cassandra careened through the fence posts. The onlookers scrambled to get out of the way, even Yael paused to regain control over herself. It was only when Cassandra dusted herself off and gave Yael a reassuring nod that the Inquisitor let out another satisfied barking laugh, reignited her flames, and turned to the others. “One down two more to go!”

Thank the Maker she was on their side! Cullen abandoned his vantage point up on the battlements, giving his head a little shake as he walked down the steps towards the training yard. He remembered seeing her for the first time when the sky had been newly torn; surrounded on all sides by every kind of demon. And she had charged in, a sleep-deprived, terrified prisoner, raining fire down on every wraith and shade. Not knowing who she was fully he had had the idea of making sure Cassandra recruited her into their ranks. It wasn’t until he had made his way back to the forward camp that he fully processed who she was. Odd thing, but he couldn’t remember ever thinking she had anything other than good intentions even when all he had seen of her was that now infamous battle-lit face and a handful of fire.

He made it down the stairs just in time to see Iron Bull sweep his great axe under Yael’s feet and lay her flat on her back. The cringe from the onlookers told him just how much lighter the purses of a few attendants would be in the coming days. Dorian leaned against his staff, shaking with quiet laughter as Bull offered Yael a hand up. Maker, the scowl she had on her face!

“That’s why I keep telling you t’ keep that guard up, Boss.”

“I always have my guard up.”

“Lying in front of the troops is hardly the most inspiring thing,” Cullen laughed as he approached the fence.

Tendrils of smoke curled up and over Yael’s shoulders as the flames extinguished from around her. The scowl was now aimed specifically at him, but a clap from Bull’s hand to her back choked it right off. “Good fight,” he said. “Let’s see if you can’t kick my ass tomorrow.”

Yael punched his arm. “They’ll be putting your body in an ashtray, Bull.” But there was no bite behind her words.

Bull and Dorian disperessed with the rest of the thinning crowd, Bull’s laugh trailing off behind him as he and Dorian made for the tavern. He offered them both a friendly wave as they departed; Dorian responded with a mock salute. He’d be seeing the mage later at their usual afternoon appointment in the gardens. If Yael couldn’t best him on the field today at least he could win her a modicum of revenge on the chessboard.

“Hope you didn’t lose too much money on my account,” Yael divested herself of her coat, hanging it up on the post before going over to the water barrel. She practically dunked her full head into it, not caring in the least if she soaked her tunic and jerkin.

“What makes you think I was betting on you?”

Cullen invited himself over the fence, tossing a dry cloth to Yael just as she turned, dripping, back around. That remark earned him a genuine smile, he could always tell by the sight of her sharpened canines. A wolf’s smile.

She scrubbed at her face, dust and a bit of soot staining the cloth as she tossed it over the side of the barrel. “Are you truly done?” Cullen asked. “You look as if you could have gone for at least several more rounds.”

“Truth be told I could potentially convince Sera or Vivienne to join me for another bout, but,” she shrugged, “perhaps that will have to wait until later.”

Much later if he recalled the Inquisitor’s schedule for the day. A meeting with Leliana for a brief update on their agents in the field and then it was to be in and out of diplomatic meetings with Josephine for the rest of the afternoon as the delegates from Neverra and Antiva arrived. Cullen could already see Yael’s impatience. By the time she’d be out of doors again it would be well into the evening and the sun would be long gone from the sky.

Cullen had drawn his sword before giving it another thought. “I’m not nearly as unpredictable a fighter as Sera, nor do I claim to have as much finesse as Madame Vivienne, but I hope you’ll consider me a worthy replacement nonetheless.”

“You can’t be serious,” she laughed, hands at her hips.

“And why not? I command your armies for a reason, Inquisitor.”

“Cullen,” laughter was still rumbling through her. Green eyes glinting with just that rare bit of warmth. “Creators, I think the last time we ever sparred was back in Haven. Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t I…”

“Send me flying out of the ring and into the snow? Yes thank you, my bones still remember that one. All the more reason for us to take the time now.”

Yael rolled her eyes, but Cullen saw her hand whisper over the sword at her belt. “I thought you had a policy on stifling the barrack room gossip.” She picked up her staff, but did not ignite it with her fire.

“Some things are worth the whispers.”

He charged her, thinking to use her hesitation against her, but Yael merely sidestepped out of the way. Nearly had him, but he corrected before he could throw himself out of the ring. He pivoted, blade spinning in his hand with a flourish that had Yael centering her stance. Their weapons met, but there were no sparks, no gouts of magic from the iron, nor smoke emanating from the Inquisitor. Cullen gritted his teeth and pushed her back.

Yael yielded to the movement with a calculating look in her eyes. She feinted to the left, but Cullen knew her too well and did not let her goad him on.

It was one thing to watch the Inquisitor fight, it was another to join her. For weeks now Vivienne and Leliana had been teaching Yael Orlesian dances for the upcoming ball in Halamshiral and she took to them about as easy as a fish to the air. Yet here she was at her most elegant. Although, Cullen admitted with a low grunt of frustration as she nearly disarmed him, he wished she would stop toying with him.

“Come on then, Yael,” he crossed swords with her. “You know you can’t win strike for strike.”

She said nothing in return. Her face was bathed in sweat as she concentrated, staring hard at Cullen’s stance, the hilt of his blade, the tells in his eyes. Eventually Cullen lowered his guard. “What are you doing?”

“Training like you asked,” Yael huffed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “What’s the matter? Yielding so soon?”

“Waiting for you to fight me properly,” he shook his head. “You’re as stiff as a board. Stilted. Ready to be knocked over at the slightest push. No wonder Bull bested you.”

There it was! The spark that he had wanted to see at the beginning. Smoke began coiling about Yael’s shoulders and embers broke out over the blade of her short sword. Cullen readied himself. “Again, Inquisitor,” he smiled.

For a heartbeat he tangled with the real Inquisitor as smoke and flame enveloped them both and he felt that wild and wonderful pulse of her magic. She brought her astral blade fully to bear, pushing with magical force until she found her opening.

Cullen could see in her eyes that she had him. He moved to correct but even before he could guard against her attack he felt the magic dissipate. The vicious look in Yael’s eyes evaporated and it was as if all the air had been sucked from the arena. She continued her attack, but she merely met the plates of his armor like a new recruit would tap the stuffed training dummies in the yard.

“Checkmate,” Yael grinned. She twirled her sword in her hand and stepped back. “What?” she averted her eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Forgive me, but by rights you should have had me out of the ring yet you held back.”

“I never hold back.”

He fixed her with a withering look until she began to fidget in the silence. Turning on her heel she marched back over to the water basin. “Leliana is likely to have my head if I’m late for another meeting.”

“Yael.”

He followed directly behind her, sheathing his sword and watching as she stiltedly washed up. She pulled on her coat and adjusted its collar. Turning back to face him a glowing fireball emerged in the palm of her hand, rotating harmlessly as Yael regarded it with a controlled stare. “My magic is…” she tossed the fire from one hand to the other, little lines of lightning orbiting around it. “Volatile. I’ve always been a pathetic healer, useless with spirit magics, but the elements? They come to me naturally. And they are not always harmless.”

“As our enemies have come to fear,” Cullen couldn’t hide the pride in his voice if he tried, so why did Yael look suddenly so very ashamed?

With a wave of her hand the fire extinguished in her palm. “Yes, but not you.” Those fierce, blazing green eyes held him transfixed. “My magic isn’t made to hurt you.”

Cullen closed the space between them with a kiss, muffling Yael’s gasp of surprise. Her skin was hot to the touch from her recent firespell and he could taste the after-spark of embers. He didn’t care who saw them in the training yard. Yael pressed a hand to his cheek, her surprise turning into wicked abandon. “Oh dear,” she whispered as she parted for air. “So much for silencing the gossip.”

“I love you,” he kissed the tip of her nose causing her to flinch and laugh. Her dark cheeks going that much darker at his words. The edge in her eyes softening ever so slightly though he knew she’d deny it profusely if he pointed it out. “All of you. Including your magic. Promise you won’t hold yourself back from me?”

She raised one eyebrow, interlacing her fingers with his, pressing a single kiss to the back of his hand. “Even if it means showing you up in front of your own troops?”

Cullen laughed. “Even that.”

#Dragon Age #Cullen Rutherford #Cullen x lavellan #Yael Lavellan

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