#yes you can see the northern lights in sweden
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Hetalia- Selfoss
What's this? Lilly posting a new fic so soon after the last one? It's more likely than you think.
This was an old Nordipalooza submission from 2020 that I ended up discarding during the event. The prompt from this was 'Sweden, Iceland - Folklore'. Back when I was researching for this prompt, I ended up on a tourism website that talked about how a town called Selfoss was supposedly haunted by ghosts so I knew immediately that's where I wanted to set the story. I was having a hard time getting started though and after two incomplete drafts, I tossed them and picked a different prompt. This weekend I finally decided to finish them off.
Sweden and Iceland sadly don't have a lot of interaction but I get the feeling that Ice is most comfortable with Sweden just on the sole fact that he doesn't treat him like a child. Therefore he gets to be a bit more relaxed and not always cool and reserved like he is with the rest of the Nordics. I hope Hima expands on their relationship in a future strip.
Also, I hope I'm not the only person who headcanons both Ice and Nor as photographers! They've got some of the best places for a hobby like that. :D
If you'd prefer to read this fic on Ao3 instead, you can check it out here.
Hope you all enjoy it!
Summary: During a trip to see the northern lights near the Icelandic town of Selfoss, Sweden couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was being watched.
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No matter how much he tried, Sweden couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was being watched.
He questioned if it was all in his head. Hundreds of people, mainly avid photographers, were gathered here by the river near the town of Selfoss to catch a glimpse of the northern lights. Iceland stood across from him and didn’t seem to have a care in the world. He was too focused on setting up his equipment and running a few test shots with his camera pointed toward the skies. The boy had a good head on his shoulders. If anyone could sense if something was off, it would be him.
Yes, it was definitely all in his head. The ghost museum they had visited in Stokkseyri must have let his imagination get ahead of itself.
The show of lights slowly began and Sweden tried to keep his mind occupied by splitting his attention between the skies and his fellow Nordic. Sitting on a reddish-brown fleece blanket, Sweden felt over-dressed with his heavy navy blue peacoat and black leather gloves. After leaving the museum earlier in the day, he was struck with a chill that he couldn’t shake off. Meanwhile, Iceland was dressed lightly in a brown spring jacket with no gloves at all. Almost everyone else wore similar clothing.
“Aren’t ya cold?”
“Not at all. I’m surprised you are though. Don’t tell me you can’t handle a little cold in your old age Sví!”
Sweden rolled his eyes but the comment got the both of them chuckling. With just the two of them together, Iceland seemed more laid-back and less hesitant to hide his playful side. He’s sure Iceland doesn’t mean to, but Sweden noticed over the years that Iceland would quickly become uncomfortable and reclusive whenever Denmark and Norway (and to some degree Finland too) became overbearing with their ‘big brother’ personalities. He just wanted to be treated like an adult alongside the rest of them.
He understands that well. After all, Denmark did it to him when they were small children—despite the three of them frequently arguing over who was the oldest. Those arguments died the moment Iceland entered their lives.
So Sweden does just that. He still dotes on him—albeit more subtly than the others do. But in return, he is rewarded to hear more in-depth things about Iceland’s life. Just on this trip alone, he has heard of the late-night calls with Indonesia, the camping trip in Hiiumaa with the Baltics, and the coffee dates with Liechtenstein in Vaduz. He felt grateful that Iceland could trust him like that.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
The colours quickly grew more intense. Shades of green, blue, and purple danced across the sky and their colours reflected against the river below. Loud gasps of delight erupted from the crowd on the ground. Iceland was mesmerized by the sight. Even though he had seen this millions of times, it never failed to put his mind at ease. Any worries he had about his life would immediately wash away. With a hand placed on his left shoulder, Sweden surprised Iceland by coming up close at his side. The average person would never be able to tell, but he could see that tiny grin form on Sweden’s face. He was just as ecstatic to see the lights as he was.
“Gettin’ some good shots?”
“Yeah,” he nodded before he returned his focus to the camera. “The multicoloured lights always make the best shots.”
Sweden tucked his hands into his coat pockets. He watched him work and noted how meticulous Iceland was with each shot. Seeing him like this reminded him so much of Norway, right down to the focused but elated expressions. Norway was also a photographer who loved to shoot landscapes just like him. But Sweden would never dare say that out loud. Iceland would quickly get annoyed whenever comparisons arose between him and his brother, even as a joke.
We’re nothing alike. Don’t say dumb things like that.
He kept his comments to himself and continued staring up at the skies. He didn’t need to ruin the perfect day they’d had together.
The lights had lasted for around twenty minutes when dark clouds began rolling through. Everyone in the crowd knew it was their sign to call it a night. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The camera Iceland had been using throughout their trip had begun flashing a warning that the battery was running low. Sweden helped him pack his equipment and get the bags into Iceland’s trunk. The blanket Sweden used earlier remained unfolded and got tossed into the backseat. With everything packed, they were ready for the hour’s drive back to Reykjavík.
But there it was again. That feeling that someone was watching. Sweden was so certain about it.
“What’s wrong?” Iceland asked. Sweden was leaning against the open passenger door as he searched around the pitch-black landscape. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, just that it was something.
“We’re bein’ watched…”
“Huh? From what?”
“Dunno but—”
Laughter.
A child’s laughter.
It was such a high-pitched noise that rang inside his ears. He hated that he couldn’t see where it was coming from. There were no streetlights in this part of the country. The only light visible came from the inside of Iceland’s car and the headlights of others as many began driving away from the scene and onto the main road.
Sweden’s frustrations hit a boiling point. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a black flashlight. He slowly made his way toward the river. Iceland tried to call him back however Sweden ignored his pleas. A frustrated sigh fell from his lips, “I'm never taking you to that ghost museum ever again,” He had no choice but to follow behind him.
Sweden hadn’t noticed earlier that the water was much lower than he had anticipated. Boulders of various shapes and sizes poked through the water, especially along the shoreline. He swung his flashlight around and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. The mysterious sounds of laughter from before had also disappeared. Was it his mind playing tricks on him again?
“Did ya happen to hear a child laughin’ earlier?”
“A child?” Iceland pondered, “The crowd was mostly full of photographers but I’m sure I saw a few families with small kids there. Maybe it was that you were hearing?”
Sweden made a disgruntled grunt as he appeared furious with himself. He hated how out of character this was for him. He could never recall a moment in time when he acted this paranoid before.
But on the furthest rock to his left, his flashlight picked up something stuck against one of the boulders. The two men investigated and discovered it was a small grey blanket. They had wondered if it was forgotten by one of the families from earlier. Upon closer inspection though, they noticed it was covered in mud, the material looked faded, and the bottom tip of the blanket had been submerged into the water. It was clear it had been here for some time.
“Sví, we should go. There’s no one here,” Iceland said as he tugged on Sweden’s arm. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”
It looked as if Sweden had finally come to his senses and the two men walked back to the car. But Iceland took one more look over his shoulder. Near the river, a small child stood there in a white gown. A short blond boy, possibly no older than three, hugged the dirty grey blanket that Sweden discovered earlier. Iceland put a finger to his lips and shook his head. The little boy’s smile turned to an angry frown and disappeared towards the water.
Iceland was open to sharing many things about his life with Sweden. But the stories of the spirits that inhabited this part of his home were not one of them. No one needed to know he could see things that mortals could not. He was determined to keep it that way.
#APH Iceland#APH Sweden#HWS Sweden#HWS Iceland#hetalia#Lilly's Writings#So happy to finally get another fic off my WIP list
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Fire To Ice
Summary: Before taking their spa day, Bloom takes Icy to see the Gävle Goat for her first Earth Christmas.
“So we just…watch it burn?” Icy quirks a brow. “That’s it?”
“That’s it!? What do you mean, ‘that’s it’. This is the entire reason that I brought you to Sweden instead of Gardenia for you first Earth Christmas!”
“It’s a goat. A straw goat.” Icy frowns. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for my first Earth vacation.”
Bloom shrugs. “Well that sucks, I thought that you would enjoy this activity.”
“We’re just going to watch a goat burn and it’s not even on fire.”
“Yet.”
“Yet?”
“It’s not on fire yet.”
Icy inhales deeply. “Well when will it be on fire?”
Bloom flashes her smirk so wicked that she almost wonders why the girl didn’t go to Cloud Tower. “Because we haven’t set it on fire yet.”
“Excuse me.”
“The goat is not supposed to be on fire. In fact, over the years there have been many security measures put in place to keep Gävlebocken from bursting into flames. But every now and then…” She makes a bursting gesture with her hands. “Boom! So many people have been fined and arrested for this tradition.” Her eyes are twinkling with chaotic delight. Icy can already see the flames roaring in them.
“Shit, I didn’t realize that you had such an appetite for havoc and destruction and the aptitude to make it happen.” Icy quirks a brow. “If I’d know this about you, you could have been part of my coven.”
“Hmmm…thanks but no thanks. Not my style. I’m more of a solo arsonist…” she pauses. “Or an ‘arson as quality time’ kind of person.”
And here Icy thought that they would be going to the Swedish lapland for a Earth’s version of a frigid wonderland. It would, of course, pale in comparison to winters in her own kingdom but Bloom had assured her that Earth traditions would make it count. Mostly Bloom had mentioned hoping to see the northern lights and part-take in a Lucia celebration.
“After we set the goat on fire we can head over to Harads for an ice bath.” Bloom taps her chin.
“You mean a regular bath?” Icy asks.
“No, no! Like you take a dip in a hole that has been carved into the ice in a lake. And it’s really freezing cold.”
“Yes.” Icy replies. “A regular bath.”
“Okay well this one is going to be a special regular bath for you.” Bloom insists. “Because this one comes with a spa treatment and northern lights. And nice scenery.”
“I am nice scenery.” Icy replies. “Can we get on with setting the goat on fire?”
“Ya know for an ice witch, you sure like fire.”
Icy shrugs
“Alright then.” Bloom cracks her knuckles “let's roast a goat.” She looks every which way. Satisfied that no one is looking she conjures up a little flame.
“I don't know why you're so worried about getting caught. We can literally magic our way back to a magic dimension where they'll never find us.”
“Part of the thrill is getting chased by the authorities! And also if you want your spa treatment then we can't be in prison.”
“We won't be.” Icy replies as Bloom approaches the unsuspecting straw likeness of a goat. She imagines that someone, or a many someones, worked very hard to construct the creature.
“Right, your an escape artist.” Bloom recalls. “How many prisons have you broken out of?”
“Are we including multiple escapes from the same facility?
Bloom opens her mouth but instead of words, there is an explosion. A great rush of flame as the statue's underbelly catches flame. “Would you like to add to the destruction?”
Icy nods eagerly. “I very much would, yes.” The fire works quickly, climbing from the straw goat’s belly over its wooden ribcage. Icy considers the spectacle and what she could add to it. The horns seem to be flame resistant. She could perhaps freeze one of them and let it melt away.
She imagines that, that would draw some looks. It would anyhow, if it weren’t so early in the morning.
A white-blue halo of magic sparkles on her pointer. She flies up and touches it to one of the antlers and watches flowers of frost burst over it. Spreading like creeping ivy until the entire horn is coated. Just a snap could shatter it entirely but she decides to just let Bloom watch it burn.
“Want some hot chocolate and marshmallows.”
“The goat fire is plenty warm enough, thank you.” Icy folds her arms across her chest.
Bloom shrugs and pops a few marshmallows into her mouth. “Suit yourself.”
.oOo.
Bloom dips her toe into the water. “Yeah, I’m not so sure about this anymore.”
“Uh-uh, you insisted that we go to this specific hotel because they offered an ice bathing opportunity. You don’t get to back out now.”
Bloom inches slightly closer to the hole in the ice. “I mean the Lucia celebration is still going on. We could get one of those crowns. The ones with the candles on them…”
Icy raises her hand to silence the woman. “Yeah, no. I’ve had enough fire for today.” She watches the fairy dip her toe in for a second time, inducing a full body shiver. “The sooner you get in here, the sooner you get to go to the sauna.” She, of course, will be staying right out here where it is nice and cold. Where she can watch the steam roll out of the sauna from a distance where she won’t have to suffer its heat.
Bloom takes a sharp and deep breath. “Alright.” She claps her hands. “Alright. Okay.” She exhales. “Alright. I’m gonna do this.” She slaps her hands together a second time and shakes them out. She shakes her whole body out.
Icy rolls her eyes. “Enough shuffling, just get it over with.”
“Right. Okay. Ice bath, here we go.” Without giving herself time to back out she leaps into the water in front of Icy and yelps. “Oh. That’s cold! That’s really cold! Freezing, it’s freezing.”
“How long have we been together now? And for how long before that did I entrap you in blocks of ice? This is much less intense but you are complaining so much more.”
“I don’t have the distraction of battle to keep me from feeling the cold.” Bloom shivers. “And also, I’m pretty sure that you’re making it colder than it otherwise would be!” She accuses.
Icy shrugs. “I might have taken away a few degrees, yes.”
Bloom shivers again. “You’re the worst.”
Icy dips her head back, feeling the frost crystals form at her hairline. “Thank you. I do try.” Not too hard of course. Just hard enough to get herself a little extra attention now and then when it pleases her to have it.
“Alright, I’m getting out now.”
“Already?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that ice baths are meant to be a really quick in and out process. Which is probably why people are giving you weird and horrified looks right now.”
“They can bask in their terror.” Icy props herself up on the ice, resting her head on her arms and letting her hair flow out behind her. She watches Bloom grab a towel and wrap it around herself.
“Come here and join me.” Bloom pats a spot on a snow covered chair.
Icy pushes herself out of the water and squeezes her hair out.
“Look up.” Bloom points.
Icy folds her arms across her chest and tilts her head up. Overhead, tendrils of teal and green coil in and out of themselves glowing against a navy backdrop.
“Pretty aren’t they?” Bloom asks. “I’ve always wanted to see them.
“We have something like where I come from.” And by comparison, these ribbons are dim and rather unimpressive. It is the surrounding scenery, she supposes, that makes the display worth remembering. The ice bath facility has a glow of its own, a golden candle-esque halo that warmly contrasts the northern lights’ frigid luminescence. Combined with the decor—mostly fir garlands with frosty needles and carefully placed LED tea lights—the atmosphere is cozy.
Icy can’t say that she is a fan of cozy, but it makes Bloom happy and she supposes that it is just as well. She lets the fairy throw that ridiculous fuzzy blanket of hers of both of their shoulders. “You know that the spa provided blankets and towels, right?”
“I like my blanket.” Bloom rests her chin on Icy’s shoulder and kisses her neck. She follows Icy’s gaze towards the sky.
Icy supposes that this isn’t a bad way to spend her first Earth Christmas, although she is fairly certain that it is, in fact, not Christmas. That Christmas lasts just one day and not an entire month as Bloom had insisted. Of course the fairy refuses to tell her which day Christmas actually falls on…
No matter, she doesn’t mind the festivities so long as they are like the ones of today. They stand in silence for a good while, watching the lights slink and slither across the frozen surface of the lake until their light fades. She and Bloom linger there for a while still until the fairy reaches for her hand and tugs her towards the sauna.
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Nighttime Never Smelled So Cool
High on the globe near the north pole the air seems to always hold a bit of chill. Scandinavia, known nowadays as Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, has always held onto that noticeable chill it seems. When thinking of the word Scandinavia, many think of the huge forests of pine, cedar, balsam, fir, and more evergreens that span expanses of land. Sometimes, those forests are coated in a beautiful fresh blanket of powdery snow. With thought of the moonlight shimmering off the fallen crystals of ice and dancing under the aurora borealis, this soap came to life.
Scented to remind everyone of the Norse nights spent under the stars, this clean and crisp fragrance smells like freshly fallen snow. Colored with beautiful ethical micas to replicate the dark sky over the snow and trees, this soap is one that can be used year round. This unisex fragrance with notes of juniper berry, vetiver, and sandalwood allow anyone using it to be brought back to the crisp clear nights under the stars when the Norse people would hang their laundry out to dry before the snow fell. Even with the laundry hanging inside the home, some of that snowfall would make its way into the home and into the clothes of the noble Vikings that looted the northern countries. (Yes. Viking was a job, not a people. They were like pirates.)
Many nights one could sit under the stars and see the beautiful constellations above. Lyra, the lyre; Perseus and the winking eye of Medusa; Hydra, the huge serpent that stretches across the sky much like Jormungandr wraps around the world of Midgard; Ursa Major and Minor, the Little Bear holding the North Star in its tail; and so many more. Twinkling in the sky and casting light down onto the crisp powdery snow, the fresh and clean scent of the night is brought into a solid and tangible form with this soap. Glitter stars rest atop this soap to remind us all that we are nothing without the stars to guide us. Daily we see the sun and it guides our way through the day, at night we see the North Star, bringing us home to the North where Valhalla calls to us during battle.
Nordic Nights was originally called “White Wolf” for one of the ferocious and protective creatures of the forest. But with our Grey Wolf gaining notoriety as Fenrir, it’s time we gave this soap its own identity. Nordic Nights is part of our signature line of soaps at Birds of Valhalla and you can purchase it here so you can find yourself on the clear, breezy night under the stars in the evergreen forest with brand new snow dancing around you in tiny whirlwinds through the trunks of the huge trees around you.
#natural#natural soaps#natural soap#food based soap#foodbased soap#naturalsoap#foodbasedsoaps#norse pagan#norse viking#norse mythology#norse#norse paganism#birdsofvalhalla#small business#handmade soaps#handmade soap#soap#norse theme#cold process soap
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Eurovision 2002: The Scoreboard
Pop quiz. Just from the above scoreboard, can you tell who Cyprus gave their 12 points to this year? They clearly knew the password.
Along with the rest of this year's graphics, ETV have made the scoreboard a lot more curvy and a lot less like a presentation to a chief financial officer. It has the air of a cute spreadsheet template that doesn't see much use in business contexts. The picture-in-picture is still there with the spokesperson initially appearing as the map zooms in on their country. There are more cutaways to the green room, possibly because the scoring is tense again
Here begin the spoilers for the real results of the 2002 Eurovision Song Contest.
Yes, it's another two-horse race going down to the wire. In this case heading towards the final votes from Vilinius, Malta were three points behind Latvia. Lithuania gave Malta...three points. A tie - but what were the odds of Lithuania not giving their neighbours any points? Latvia duly got 12 and Latvia were crowned winners of Eurovision for the first time to set up a Baltic celebration in Tallinn.
Further down the table, there was a creditable performance by the hosts and a three way tie for 13th on 33 points.
The full final table:
Latvia - Marie N - "I Wanna"
Malta - Ira Losco - "7th Wonder"
United Kingdom - Jessica Garlick - "Come Back"
Estonia - Sahléne - "Runaway"
France - Sandrine François - "Il Faut Du Temps"
Cyprus - One - "Gimme"
Spain - Rosa - "Europe's Living A Celebration"
Sweden - Afro-dite - "Never Let It Go"
Romania - Monica Anghel & Marcel Pavel - "Tell Me Why"
Russia - Prime Minister - "Northern Girl"
Croatia - Vesna Pisarovic - "Everything I Want"
Israel - Sarit Hadad - "Light A Candle"
Bosnia & Herzegovina - Maja - "Na Jastuku Za Dvoje"
(joint 13th) Belgium - Sergio & the Ladies - "Sister"
(joint 13th) Slovenia - Sestre - "Samo Ljubezen"
Türkiye - Buket Bengisu & Saphire - "Leylaklar Soldu Kalbinde"
Greece - Michalis Rakintzis - "S.A.G.A.P.O."
Austria - Manuel Ortega - "Say A Word"
North Macedonia - Karolina - "Od Nas Zavisi"
Finland - Laura - "Addicted to You"
Germany - Corinna May - "I Can't Live Without Music"
Switzerland - Francine Jordi - "Dans Le Jardin De Mon Âme"
Lithuania - Aivaras - "Happy You"
Denmark - Malene - "Tell Me Who You Are"
One final thing - this little fellow pops up at the most tense point of the scoring on the recording of the final that I viewed. I think this is probably a broadcast artefact from the recording it is from, but if not, is there an unanticipated mascot that I've not heard of before?
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Zain i have a question. Youre Swedish right? How often do you get northern lights there?
hang tight buddy ✨
I am Swedish, yes! Have lived in Sweden my whole life, but I've never seen northern lights with my own eyes. I think they can only be seen far up north! Sweden is a very long and narrow country, so the nature is really different at the very top compared to the very bottom. I've moved around quite a bit, but I've only lived in the bottom half of Sweden. So no northern lights for me! They're so beautiful though, I should definitely travel up there to see them sometime!
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Goin’ on a date with Sung Jin Woo :)
In which our favorite S-Rank hunter takes you on a date, but with a little plot twist thrown in as well
*Reader is gender-neutral as well*
Word Count: 1.6k (yeah, i kinda got carried away, oops)
You remembered. How pretty the day was, as the sun cast gentle rays of warmth and the wind blew slightly as you made your way to the library to do your homework.
It shouldn’t have surprised you. He’d wait outside, leaning against the wall just around the corner from the entrance, in the shadows. Not that it bothered you; your study sessions always ended in the late afternoon, so it was a given that he’d wait where the sun wouldn’t bother him. Everyday, save for Saturdays and Sundays, he’d walk you home from the library. To others, it might’ve been an odd sight.
Sung Jin Woo? The S-Rank turned National Level hunter? Walking a simple college student such as yourself home? Everyday? It was almost too good to be true.
But it was true, and even if it was odd at first, you’d grown used to it.
And you remembered how when you’d reached your doorstep, he’d reached a tentative hand out and placed it on your shoulder, halting you before you could disappear into your house. And while looking away, trying to hide the very obvious blush on his face, had asked to take you out on a date.
Of course you were shocked, because Holy shit, I’m getting asked out on a date by Korea’s 10th S-Rank hunter and may or not just possibly be the most attractive man on the planet.
He accidentally took your silence as a “No” and before he could disappear, you shouted out an almost too eager “Yes!” before composing yourself and saying with a breathless smile, “I’d love to go on a date with you, Sung.”
“Jin Woo,” he corrected, before he really did disappear in that odd way of his, and a shadow soldier of his appeared in front of you. You shrugged at him? It looked like a him. And he shrugged at you.
Fast forward a week, and you stood in front of your mirror, checking your outfit for what had to be the 10th time in nearly 2 minutes. Sung, no, Jin Woo, had said he’d text you when he was at your house, and it was beginning to near 7.
“What if he was just messing with me? What if he just said it to get me all excited and he’s gonna bring his friends too just to embarrass me? Maybe I should just cancel, because there’s no way a guy like him is interested in me-” You ramble, and before you can reach your phone, your best friend had moved herself from her spot on the bed to grip your arms.
“Hey, babes, relax. I doubt he would do that, and based on how you make him to be when he walks you home, he’s genuinely interested in you. Now look at me. Deep breath in,” you follow her lead, taking in a lungful of air. “-Deep breath out. There you go. You look great OK?” As if on cue, your phone pings, indicating you had received a message. “That’s probably him. Now get your ass outside, and blow him away, you hear me?”
With new determination, you nodded and after taking another deep breath, swung open the door-
-And your heart just about skips 10 whole beats before it decides to start functioning again. There he stood, dressed both nicely in some black slacks, a white button-up shirt with a jacket as well, all complete with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands.
And so, your date began.
“You uh, you look nice,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes roamed over you. “I uh, I remember you saying you liked (favorite flowers) so I figured I’d get you some...” he mumbles, shyly holding out the bouquet. You giggle at his bashfulness, reaching out to take them from him.
“They’re beautiful, thank you. I’ll go put them in a vase, then we’ll go.”
And then, you’re walking away from your apartment and into town, where he proceeds to buy you little trinkets that catch your eye from the open market that the two of you just so happen to pass by.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going, by the way,” you say, turning your head slightly to meet the eyes of your date. He laughs at your statement, before placing his hands over your eyes.
You feel him lean over behind you, hear him as he whispers in your ear, his breath sending goosebumps racing across your skin as it brushes a strand of your hair ever so slightly. “Do you trust me?” You can only nod in response, because wow. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t even realize what kind of effect that had on you. He chuckles lowly, and you feel a little more heated than before.
He keeps his hands over your eyes as a bit of coldness envelopes you, before it’s intensified. You shudder at the sudden change in temperature; had he used that weird way of traveling he had? Right, shadow exchange.
“We’ll be here a while, hope you don’t mind.”
He finally lets you have your sight back and holy shit.
“Where-” Your breath comes out in puffs, and you smile at it. “Where are we?” You shiver a bit, seeing as you had obviously not dressed for the conditions set.
“Sweden, sunshine.” The nickname comes so easily to him that he doesn’t even realize it, but oh, oh you do. Your face burns furiously, and you quickly turn your head to look up at the swirling sky.
No, it’s literally swirling. It’s your first time seeing something so beautiful. There’s streaks of color that writhe around in hues of green, pink, purple, and blue. “I’ve never seen the northern lights. I promised myself that one day, sometime after college, I’d get out of Korea and travel. My first stop would’ve been someplace where I could make a fire and watch these all night.”
“Then let’s do that right now.”
“What?”
He conjures some warm-looking coats, another glimpse into the unimaginable spectacle of power he possesses. You take it gratefully, before continuing to stare upwards in awe. Some movement catches your eye, and you look downwards, realizing that a forest roams below you, covered in a blanket of fog.
A sharp snap catches your attention, and you see Jin-Woo has just finished creating a fireplace, and has set a blanket on the ground for the two of you to sit on. He jerks his head, and you come to sit by his side, and another blanket is placed over both of your legs.
“I hope you uh, you know, like it.”
“Are you kidding me?” You turn to him with the most excited eyes and the widest smile he’s ever seen on you, and his heart begins to thump erratically. “This,” you lean down to rest your head on his shoulder. “Single handedly, exceeds my expectations for my first date.”
His eyes shoot over to you, snuggling into his shoulder, before his brows furrow in confusion. “First date? I’m your first date?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, my priorities were always school and grades, guess I never really indulged in dating. Not that I didn’t want to, I just, how do I say this? Never really put myself out there.” He immediately moves his arm, and your eyes widen when you think he may be rejecting you. At least until he puts his arm around your waist and pulls you close into his side.
“Then I’m thankful for that. I hope I’ve made it memorable.” You laugh now, placing a hand on his knee. His breath hitches in his throat from the contact, but he forces himself to refocus as you look back up at him.
“Memorable? You dummy, this is like, more, than memorable. I can’t even begin to explain it.” You smile again, and he doesn’t say anything. Just continues to stare at you, a small blush beginning to appear on his skin. “Has anyone ever told you that you look really pretty?”
The words are mumbled, and if the two of you were just an inch more apart, he might’ve missed it. “I thought it was tradition for the guy to compliment his date, not the other way around…” He smells like caramel, you think. “Eh, who cares about tradition anyways,” you retaliate.
He leans forward slowly, until your noses are just barely brushing. Just a little closer, and you’d be kissing him. His hand comes forward to rest on your cheek, and you lean into it, closing your eyes momentarily. “Is this ok?”
“Yes,” you whisper. “More than ok.”
Slowly, he places his lips on yours, sweetly, softly. Thank the gods that your friend said no to wearing regular lipstick, and instead gave you some tinted cherry chapstick. Jin-Woo can taste the slight taste of cherry, and the thought has him giddy. You pull away, grinning softly.
His lips were so soft.
“That…” you trail off, resting your forehead against his. “That was perfect.” Your eyes dance with unbridled happiness, along with the light from above. Jin-Woo can’t help but agree as he leans in once more.
~~~
Sung Jin-Woo feels bad.
So much so that Jin-Ho notices. A part of him tells him that it’s ok, because with Monarchs and Rulers pitted against him, he’ll need an ally, especially one that can make a difference.
But he just can’t help looking at the big banner in front of him, placed by the system. It feels like it’s mocking him. Mocking him for what he’s done, and how he’s played you.
He likes you, he truly does. You’re a sweet, charming, college student with an easy going attitude that grounds him. He doesn’t want to hurt you, at all. Compared to him, you’re an angel. But you can’t hide who you are, what you are, from him.
Not in the slightest bit.
[Quest: Befriend and gain the trust of the Monarch of Peace has begun.]
#solo leveling#sung jin woo#one-shot#reader insert#fluff#angst if you squint#got carried away#simp#brain go brrrr#pls enjoy this#monarchs#rulers#no idea what to tag this
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I never watched anything with this man (yet), I can't write anything for or with him and since I enjoy your writing...maybe you will work on a fluff and smut imagine or something with my idea...
Bill going with Tiger at a maybe not exactly Scandinavian hotel but some comfy vintage villa . At first everything it's all fluffy and they enjoy their time together knowing that soon he will have to leave for new scenes / work so after they enjoy their meal (preferably) alone something sparks in Bill's eyes and things get intense on or around the table...
okay first off, YOU'VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING WITH BILL? Low key, I kind of think that's awesome. Admittedly I've seen a small selection of Bill's works because I just can't handle blood and horror, and also some movies are just meh not really my thing. I do love his face though, which is why I'm still here, and I appreciate that other people perhaps love his face too.
And second of all--Ohhhh my god, how I love this aesthetic so much. Listen, I could literally talk forever about Bill and tiger in some secluded cabin somewhere--north Finland? perfect. Somewhere in the middle of Norway? Fantastic. Way on the tip of northern Sweden? Even better. I am all about that cabin life and ESPECIALLY all about that Scandinavian cabin life because god, you'v never seen something so pretty in your life. And the photo above is just...oof, it's beautiful babes.
I like this idea that tiger insists on some break time for Bill after each shoot. It's not always possible but tiger is pretty adamant about it--just a week or two--if Bill has some back to back projects lined up. And she's adamant because not only does she miss her Big Dude, but she also knows Bill's workaholic side and knows that he NEEDS the break between shoots and between characters, but that he would never insist upon it himself. So instead, tiger imposes a little. Hits all of the right buttons--tells him that she misses him, that she wants to spend some time with him. It turns Bill to mush and it's a win all around--tiger gets her time in with her Good Dude, and Bill gets a week or two vacation that he wouldn't have taken otherwise.
Sometimes he just wants to be home, after having been gone so long. But sometimes tiger wants a change of scenery, so they book something--and they have criteria, you know? It has to have a full kitchen, because they love to cook. The more secluded it is, the better. A big bathtub is preferable. A sauna is a bonus. Really, all they want is a ton of privacy and a fully equipped kitchen to work some magic in--oh, and a king-size bed, because Bill physically can't fit into anything smaller--even though he tries.
And I'll bet there's this whole other atmosphere to it when they do this, right, because it has been so long since they were together but they also know that their time is limited. Everything just seems so much more sacred, more intimate--and definitely more supercharged.
Even in regular circumstances, tiger turns into a ball of mush when she's getting a lot of affection from her Good Dude, a lot of good food, and a lot of relaxing evenings spent in the bubble bath with him. And simultaneously, Bill gets all hopped up on those protective vibes when he's able to provide those things for her, and see her reaction to it--but add in the element of borrowed time, the element of knowing that this will end sooner than they want, and it lends a whole lot of electric energy to the air around them.
And like, picture it, right? They've been cooking all day. It's a seven course meal that they made from scratch for themselves. Tiger has been mixing her famously strong drinks--some real good drinks--since the early afternoon. Everything smells incredible, and as tiger is putting the finishing touches on some dishes Bill is getting the table ready in inherently beautiful Scandinavian fashion. He lights the fire place. He pours the wine. He lights the candles. He puts a blanket on the chairs. Before dinner is served, they think a quick dip in the cold lake followed by a stint in the sauna is the perfect way to freshen up and relax a little.
They go back inside and start dishing up the food--just piling it into big bowls, setting out a few different plates. Bill is in a fluffy bathrobe, tiger is in one too but with his shirt under it, and big fluffy socks on her feet. Some soft jazz plays through the speakers as the candles flicker, and they set down to eat.
And it's so cozy, you know? It's so intimate. Even though there's no reason for it, both of them speak in a tone that's barely above a whisper.
But like, look--here's the thing. Like I mentioned above, tiger gets all small and all feeling good over good food, good wine and the company of her Good Dude any day. But in this little cabin, out in the woods? In the seclusion of it all? Knowing that he'll be gone again in a few days? Tiger is not only feeling good, but she's feeling needy. And Bill is noticing. Because seeing her there, with her feet on his lap, enjoying her food, seeing her all bundled up in his t-shirt, seeing that slight hint of demure take over her gaze, the small hunch of her shoulders? Oof, it starts to get Bill going. And all of a sudden this cozy, relaxing dinner alone in the middle of nowhere is taking on a new tone, the air is shifting, and both of them can feel it. Bill can see it on her, how small she's getting for him, and tiger can see everything she needs in the set of his jaw, the sudden square of his shoulders.
Tiger is having a hard time focusing. Bill suddenly has a knot in his stomach that jolts all the way to his balls and he's standing at attention--something that tiger notices. Her breath picks up just a little, her eyes getting wide, and that's something that Bill notices. And suddenly these two are locked in a stare down, each of them turned on beyond belief for no reason, and both about to pounce.
"Finish your dinner," Bill orders, "You didn't eat much today."
"But--"
His look from beneath his brows cuts her rebuttal off, but she can't help the small whine of despair from escaping and god it goes right to his groin. She takes a few more bites, tries to reel in her breathing, but even Bill has that vein popping from his forehead and she knows that even her Big Dude is having a hard time reeling it in.
"Dessert?" she finally offers meekly, after putting her fork down. Bill pats his mouth daintily with his napkin, setting it on the table before rising.
"Yes please," he says, "If you're offering."
And then in a flash, two big hands are on her waist and she's lifted in the air. Her ass is plunked down hard on the table, a hand on her shoulder shoving her down and then spreading her knees.
"But I made--"
Two fingers are promptly shoved in her mouth to quiet her, as his wet tongue swipes up between her folds. There's not a single protest she can utter as she moans, his own groan even louder as he licks at her again.
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if hurting wounds would mend (never left that place inside my head)
[teen and up audiences]
[title from northern lights by elias]
[angst, fluff, mentions of hospitals, mentions of recovery, mentions of broken bones]
[written for @flufftober2021 prompt #21: knuckle kiss]
chapter #17 | on ao3
[1000 words]
Ludvig finds her ten seconds later, hand pressed against the wall as she tries to will her heart to slow down. Johan has also sprinted behind her, so they’re not alone — they’re never alone.
“Kristina,” he calls out softly. “Are you okay?”
She wants to laugh. She wants to scream. She wants to throw things out the window. Instead, she sighs deeply and replies, “I’m not, but I guess I have to be, don’t I?”
“You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be, Kristina,” he tries to reason with her.
She huffs. “Being Queen means that I’m never allowed to feel, so I don’t.”
“Our son is in a hospital bed after a car accident, four months after our other son passed away in a very similar accident. You’re allowed to have feelings about it.”
“Just not allowed to show them,” she finishes for him when he trails off. “And apparently I don’t know our son that much.”
“If you’re saying that because of what Sara said, I hate to break it to you, but no parent knows their teenager son, Kristina. Not even the Queen of Sweden.”
As always, Ludvig knows what to say and when to say it, but it doesn’t soothe Kristina’s soul. She’s still beating herself over the whole ordeal of not putting her family above her duties, and now she’s been confronted by a teenager who thinks she knows better about Wilhelm than his own mother does.
And she’s not mistaken.
Ludvig picks that exact moment to grab her hand off the wall and lift it to his mouth, dropping soft kisses on her knuckles. It helps her relax a bit, but not enough that her mind stops racing around the hurtful thoughts she keeps revisiting.
“I know we need to talk about William,” he mutters. “And about why you’ve always felt so compelled to treat Wilhelm as though he was an emotionless puppet in this sick show we’re all forced to reenact every single day. But for now, can’t we just rejoice in knowing Wille’s awake and he’ll recover?”
She nods against his chest. He’s still holding her hand, kissing her skin as he keeps her standing on her feet, just like he’s done for over twenty years.
“I’m so sorry,” she begins. “I’m sorry for the hell I’ve put everyone through. I know I haven’t been a good mother to Wilhelm, and I wasn’t a good mother to Erik and I’ve definitely haven’t been a good wi—”
“You are a good person, Kristina,” Ludvig cuts her off. “You’ve made some mistakes. But it’s not too late to make amends.”
“I never apologized properly for what went down with William.”
“And you want to do it now? When Linda’s about to call him?”
Kristina nods. Ludvig chuckles. “No time like the present, huh?” he whispers. “Y’know, I forgive you, Kristina. I forgave you twenty years ago.”
And just like that, one of the million weights on her soul lifts off her.
*~*~*~*
The time flies by while he's talking to Felice. She keeps her voice low not to disturb Simon, and Wilhelm tries his best not to make any hoarse sound, simply nodding his head yes or shaking it no from time to time.
Felice has updated him on everything in between doctors and nurses checking in on him. He now knows that he broke his left leg in two places, and that he narrowly avoided getting his skull smashed by the car's structure. All in all, he thinks he might make a good recovery — and now that he has Simon back, no matter whether it's just as a friend, Wilhelm thinks he can overcome anything.
Emboldened by the weird absence of his parents, Wilhelm chooses to wake Simon up with soft pushes. But his wonder boy is fast asleep, probably exhausted by the worry.
"You might want to up your game," Felice teases. "I'll go grab a bite, see if I find the Queen and the Prince Consort. Don't do anything I wouldn’t do."
Wilhelm snickers, but it comes out strained. His voice, just like the rest of his body, is still trying to get used to being back on track. When Felice finally leaves the room, pausing slightly to tell Malin something before the door closes, Wilhelm musters up enough strength to bring Simon’s hand up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, one by one, slowly.
Simon stirs, groaning when his neck undoubtedly acts up, and opens his eyes. He turns his face towards Wilhelm, features lit up with wonder.
"You're awake," he says. "How are you feeling?"
Wilhelm shrugs but smiles.
"Good, don't speak. I can do all the speaking."
"Simon," he rasps out.
Simon frowns at him, opening his mouth to retaliate when the door bursts open and his mother stands awkwardly in the threshold. "I didn't want to interrupt," she says, clearly out of her depth.
"No, no," Simon says, disengaging his hand from Wilhelm’s grip, suddenly tense. "It's me who's sorry. I've overstayed my welcome."
"No," Wilhelm protests feebly. His mother babbles about something, but Simon cuts her off.
"I'll go find my mom and Sara."
"Come back," Wilhelm pleads, his voice barely a thread. "Please."
Simon looks back at him with a tight smile. "I will. I promise. Don't make any effort, okay?"
And with that he's gone, rushing past Wilhelm’s mother and vanishing down the corridor. From where Wilhelm is lying, he can’t even tell which way Simon has gone.
"Wilhelm," his mother says. "I wanted to talk to you."
He shrugs. He doesn’t want to listen, but he has no real option here. She sits down where Simon had been merely moments before, and she keeps her distance. Wilhelm is thankful for that.
"Linda is going to hire a lawyer," she explains. "They're going to sue August. They're going full in, Wilhelm."
He startles, not expecting those words. He stares at his mother, urging her to go on with just a glance.
#if hurting wounds would mend (never left that place inside my head)#flufftober2021#day 21: knuckle kiss#wilmon#wilmon fic#wilmon fiction#young royals#young royals fic#young royals fiction
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What family is all about - Weasley FamilyxWeasley!Sister
Hiiiiiii!!! It’s... been a while. Again. Let’s face it, I’ll never be able to post as often as I’d like. I just don’t like rushing stuff, or posting anything I’m not happy with, so...
Anyhow, I LOVED writing for the Weasley family, and I’ll most likely do it again soon. Bill and Charlie are both underrated characters in my opinion and I had a ton of fun letting them ‘shine’ (despite this being a sort of sad story, but that always seems to be where I end up... XD)
Also, I might have to edit this once more, but it’s late, I have not posted in about two weeks and I just want to go to sleep XD That being said, take it for what it is, and I’ll try to correct any grammatical errors later. Good night! <3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Please note:
1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)
2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Word count: ≈ 2800 (they just keep getting longer, don’t they? XD)
Warnings: Light swearing, blood, angst
Enjoy! :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That’s what family is all about
“How big did his tongue get?”
“It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!”
The sound of laughter was heard from the kitchen as Elwira Weasley entered her childhood home. She worked as an arithmancer, and had been stationed at a research-facility in the northern parts of Sweden for the past few years. Her work took up most of her time, but she had just travelled home to go see the quidditch final with her dad, older brother Bill, twin brother Charlie and all their younger siblings.
“It isn’t funny”, her dad shouted. “That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard-muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of muggles, and my own sons-”
“Are just a wee bit too daft to understand that!”
She walked through the door and found her entire family, plus two other people she didn’t know, all sitting or standing around the kitchen table.
“Ellie?!”
Her older brother and twin, with whom she had always been extremely close, both made their way across the room and pulled her into a hug so tight she could barely breathe.
“Blimey! ‘ello Bill, hey Charlie! Long time no see, huh?”
“Certainly!”, their mother exclaimed while pushing the two oldest sons to the side as she tried to get a good look at her grown-up daughter. “Not a single visit since Christmas, Elwira Weasley, we’ve had to do with owls for six months?!”
“Sorry, mum, there’s been a lot of work to do… I thought I’d stay for the rest of the summer though, if that’s okay with you?”
“Of course, dear! Have you eaten yet?”
“No, I’m famished!”
Mrs Weasley went off to get another plate, and Ellie, after greeting everyone and being introduced to Harry and Hermione, took a seat between her dad and youngest brother.
“So Ronald? Had a good term?”
“Err.. Sure? Nothing interesting except for the stuff I wrote to you about, though.”
“Well you’re going into your fourth year now - almost halfway through!” She paused for a moment and turned to her father. “You good dad? You seem a bit… tense?”
Arthur looked up from his plate and sent his daughter a kind smile.
“Don’t worry about it, darling. Hosting the world cup comes with a great deal of problems all with the need to be solved. Admittedly, it’s not really part of my job, but the entire ministry becomes quite chaotic when something like that is days away. I’m a bit stressed, that’s all. How are things up in Scandinavia?”
“They’re… somewhat slow to be honest. There’s so much work to do between like October and February, but in the summer it’s mostly filing and other boring bits of paperwork.”
“Elwira?”, Hermione asked. “Sorry, I’m just curious, what is it that you do? Ron’s never told us…”
“That’s probably cause Ron doesn’t understand what I’m doing”, she smirked, “but of course, I work with, and study, arithmancy which, as you might know, is part of what’s called ‘natural magic’.”
“Great!”, mumbled Ron quietly, making sure only his friends and older sister heard. “Hermione, there are four rules in this house, okay? One: Don’t ask Charlie about dragons, Two: Don’t ask Percy about anything, Three: Don’t ask dad about muggles, and Four: Don’t ask Ellie about her job. Break either and you’ll be stuck listening to a five hour lecture.”
Hermione didn’t seem to be bored though, so Ellie ignored her brother’s comment and continued.
“It’s the type of magic that has been studied and worshiped since ancient times and has a very strong connection with nature. The natural phenomena with the strongest affiliation with magic is, while they in themselves have what the muggles would call a ‘scientific explanation’, the northern lights. Meaning it’s only when they’re visible that we can make any significant progress.”
Ellie paused and glanced at the younger girl, trying to see whether she had caught on or not, and was happy when realizing that she had.
“And... “, questioned Hermione, “the northern lights are only visible north of the polar circle and b-”
“Between September and March, exactly… Meaning there’s sadly not that much advanced research that can be done during the rest of the year…”
“It’s still a fascinating subject though. I only started last year, but I love it.”
“I’m glad! At least some people appreciate the wonderful art that is arithmancy, Ronald!”
Ron looked up at the mention of his name and met his sister’s gaze.
“I just don’t find it interesting”, he said.
“Right, because you ha-”
Ellie didn’t get to finish her sentence before being interrupted by her twin brother.
“Hey, Ellie? Must have been fun watching the Nordic versus Germany, huh?”
“Oh shut up, Charlie!”, she groaned while putting her head in her hands. “Holy Merlin…” The Nordic National Quidditch team, of which she had become a huge supporter in the last few years, had suffered a HORRENDOUS loss against Germany, and it had certainly not been a fun night.
Her brother, however, did not shut up, but instead burst out laughing.
“Charlie, it’s not funny!! You should have been there though… You’d have done a much better job than the stand-in seeker we had.”
“What were the results again? 700-20?”
“... 520 actually”
“520 to??”, Bill said mockingly
“You’re idiots both of you… 520-0, happy now?”
Ellie hadn’t realized that everyone else around the table had been listening in on their conversation, but was made aware when Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Arthur began laughing loudly.
“Why is this so funny to everyone? England lost badly too, and neither Romania nor Egypt even qualified to compete?!”
“Yeah...”, began Fred.
“But none of them lost with 520 points.”, finished George, earning himself a furious look from his older sister who stood up and shook her head.
“I’ll go see if mum needs any help…”
~~~~~~
Ellie loved her family, and therefore all her slightly annoying brothers, beyond everything, but being away from them for months and then meeting them all at the same time was TIRING! Having no desire to sleep through the world cup, she decided to go to bed early the night before, and she had barely closed her eyes before she fell asleep...
~~~~~~
“3, 2 ‘shhhh, quiet!”
Ellie took notice of the obnoxiously loud whispers, but it wasn’t enough to fully wake her up.
“We’ve got one more chance, 3, 2, 1, ELLIE!!!!”
She woke up instantly and sent a blast of blue sparks towards her older brother, barely missing him by an inch.
“What ‘ru doing, El? You can’t just go attacking people?!”
He tried to sound angry, but failed miserably, a heartwarming laugh escaping his mouth.
“You bloody idiots?! Why’d you scare me like that? You’re 21 and 23, not five?”
“Brings back memories, doesn’t it? Do you remember-”
“Yes, I do!”. She rubbed her eyes slowly, “‘85, look can you two please let me sleep?”
“Sorry, sis”, said Bill. “We’re leaving in half an hour. The kids and dad left ages ago.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to be late do you? Not when you can cheer for a team that might not loo-”
“Charlie, I swear!”
~~~~~~
The match was fantastic! Ellie would never admit it to her brothers, but it was nice to watch an even one for once. Watching and cheering with her family brought back fond memories of childhood games at the Burrow or Hogwarts, and she realized just how much she had missed actually playing. They stayed up late discussing players and tactics, but eventually their father ushered them all off to bed.
~~~~~~
“Ellie?”
“Ellie??”
She stirred slightly and pulled the sleeping bag tighter around her.
“Ellie! Damn it, wake up!”
She opened her eyes slowly and saw her twin brother bent above her. The sight made her sigh.
“Charlie”, she mumbled. “We see each other once- or twice a year nowadays, do you really feel obligated to wake me up every time you get the chance?”
“Elwira, I’m serious! Get up!”
This caught her attention. Sure, the twins often used their full names when messing with each other, but it didn’t sound like Charlie was joking at all. She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned loudly.
“What’s going on? Wha- Charlie? It’s still dark out? Why’d yo-”
“Ellie, c’mon. We have to help dad. Someone’s attacking the muggles.”
He threw his sister a jacket and pulled her out of the tent. Arthur, Bill and Percy were all waiting outside.
“Dad?”, she asked. “What’s happening? Charlie sai-”
“We’ve got to help the ministry!”, he said while frantically trying to count everyone and make sure they were there. “Fred, George, you make sure the others are safe. Go wait in the woods and I’ll come for you when the situation’s under control. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ellie, let’s see if there’s something we can do.”
Nobody questioned Mr Weasley’s instructions, and immediately left in different directions. There were people everywhere though, and the two directions quickly became three, four, six. Spells and curses were fired left, right and centre and Ellie found herself disarming and stunning at least a few death eaters. There weren’t that many of them, roughly thirty or so, but the insane amount of witches and wizards fleeing the campsite made it difficult to fight back. She couldn’t risk hitting any random bloke.
While duelling a tall man in a black mask, Ellie suddenly stumbled forward, a particularly nasty curse having hit her straight in the back. Falling to the ground felt way more painful than it should have, and her wand landed well beyond her reach. She groaned as a burning pain spread through her lower back, but made an effort to get back up anyways. She did, however, not make it very far before the sharp end of a wand dug into her throat.
The death eater behind her sniggered and pulled her up by the collar of her shirt.
“Well, well, well… Why’re you trying to ruin our fun?”
He stood way too close for comfort and Ellie felt his breath on her neck. She tried to answer, but the curse that was shot at her must have hit its intended target, as all that came out when she opened her mouth was a strained cough and warm blood.
The bloke holding her let out a dark chuckle and threw her to the ground. She could barely keep her eyes open, and a thick, red liquid oozed from the wound in her back.
“Not so high-and-mighty now, are we?”
Ellie lacked the strength to fight back, and to the death eaters that seemed to take all the fun out of the situation. They set off back towards the campsite, leaving Ellie on the ground next to a few pines. She tried her very best to sit up, but ended up passing out…
~~~~~~
“Charlie?!”
Bill ran up to his younger brother and pulled him in for a quick, one-armed hug.
“Charlie, you okay? We’ve got to get back to the tent. Where’s El?”
“Wha-, I-I thought she was with you?!?”
“What? Last I saw her you were together?”
The brothers shared a lock of utter terror.
“Bill, we have to find her!”
“I know… Dad went to get the kids and Percy’s back in the tent waiting.”
“There’s no time to waste then. Let’s go”
~~~~~~
They had been running around the camping grounds for half an hour, and there was still not a trace of a living soul - let alone the special one they were searching for. At first, they had been shouting her name at the top of their lungs, but were now walking silently. That was, at least, until a shout made both of them turn around.
“Bill! Charlie! What are you doing? I told you to stay in the tent?”
Arthur Weasley came running towards them, with Harry, Ron and Hermione following close behind.
“Dad!”, Charlie shouted. “Have you seen El? We can’t find her?”
“What?”, asked Arthur. “But she was with you, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, at first, but we must have gotten separated… Dad, is that? You know?”
He threw a dark glance at the skull and snake decorating the night sky and said, “Yes. Yes it is. Look, I’ll take Ron, Hermione and Harry back to the tent, and I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes, okay? Don’t go too far. Come on kids!”
~~~~~~
Just as the brothers were about to give up, go back to the clearing, wait for their dad and hopefully find both their sisters safe and sound, Bill noticed something. A glimpse of red in the moonlight…
“Charlie? Get over here fast!”
The younger brother followed Bill’s gaze and immediately set off through the forest when his eyes found a mess of ginger hair sticking out from behind a rather large pine. Bill followed closely behind.
“ELLIE!!!?!!”
Charlie stumbled to his knees and turned his sister around, trying to get a better look at her. He pressed his hand to her wrist and breathed a sigh of relief when he found a pulse.
“She’s alive”, he mumbled. “Bill, she’s alive!”
“Good. I- Good.” Bill was lost for words too and mumbled a quick “Let me see”.
He pushed some hair out of her eyes and searched for any clues to what had hit her. He was a curse-breaker after all, but that usually meant working with curses placed on things or places, not people.
“Charlie, I-I don’t know what that is… it’s not a curse I’m familiar with and I’m no healer… You want to carry her?”
“Of course”
Charlie brought his twin into his arms and picked her up, her bruised, limp body threatening to fall unless he held on tight enough. The brothers walked back to the clearing where they’d promised to meet their dad, but kept a close watch on their sister. They would apparate, though at the moment none of them felt like they had much time for ‘Deliberation’. It wasn’t very far anyways.
~~~~~~
“DAD!”, Bill shouted as soon as they noticed Arthur in the clearing where they were supposed to wait.
“Boys! Didn’t I tell you t-”
“We’ll take that later, Dad, you’ve got to help her!?”
Arthur Weasley was speechless, which had most likely never happened before, and Charlie felt so helpless. This was worse than his worst nightmares, and there was nothing he could do. Had it been a wounded dragon, sure, he knew loads about them, but this?
“Dad?”, asked Bill. “What can we do?”
“Right. Er… I suppose there’s no use trying to get you to wait here?”, he said while looking at Charlie who frantically shook his head. “Right, Bill could you go back to Percy and the kids? Fill them in on what happened? Then Charlie and I’ll take Ellie to St Mungos, okay?”
Bill didn’t look too happy with the idea, but nodded nonetheless.
---
“Charlie sit down!”
“Fred, he can’t”, said George. “Hey, I think you missed a spot over there, Charles”
“Shut it both of you! Honestly, why am I the only one that’s worried?”
Arthur stood up and put an arm around his son.
“Listen, we’re all worried, but walking back and forth isn’t helping anyone. Just sit for a moment, huh?”
“No, dad, you don’t understand! It’s my fault. We were supposed to stick together! I let her out of my sight...I-”
“Charlie, we all-”
“No, Bill, you don’t get it either, I should-”
“-let your sister sleep for once? That’d be greatly appreciated, thank you.”
The entire family turned at once, and found the oldest daughter struggling to sit up.
“EL!!”
Charlie stumbled over and put a hand on his sister’s back, trying to help her up, but unfortunately placing it right where the curse had hit her.
“Auch!”
She moved away from his touch and he pulled his hand back immediately.
“Blimey, Ellie I’m so s-”
“Charlie, it’s good. Don’t worry about it.”
Ellie pulled her brother into a hug, though he was now extremely careful, and she looked over his shoulder at the rest of her family. Her eyes met Bill’s and he sent her a kind smile. She gestured for him to come join them, and eventually the whole family found themselves in a loving group hug. Molly did her very best to wrap her arms around all her children, desperately trying to convince herself that they were all there - safe and sound and loved.
Because if there was one thing the Weasleys had a lot of, it was love and that is, after all, precisely what family is all about.
~ L
Masterlist
#weasley family imagine#bill weasley x sister#charlie weasley x sister#harry potter imagine#weasleys x sister#HP#hp one shot#Goblet of Fire#quidditch#arthur weasley x daughter#creative writing#writing#hp fan fic#harry potter fan fiction#weasley siblings#weasleys x daughter
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From @willow-salix
to @fallenfurther
Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!
Grandma Tracy might portray herself as a hip, cool, down with the kids granny to anyone that would listen but even she had to admit that she was a traditionalist at heart. Not in the way that many might expect, not in the boring way of not moving with the times when needed, she could work the holoprojector almost as well as John when it came to coordinating a rescue, she just subscribed to the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ school of thought.
She knew that old fashioned things still had a place in the world, they still had a use, even when people thought they were antiquated and fit for nothing but a museum or a rubbish pile. She’d proven that to Virgil when they had been stuck in London with no technology whatsoever and since then Virgil had had more of an appreciation for the older things in life.
Traditions were important in her eyes, although rarely were they the common ones that everyone in the world did. Mostly because Sally Tracy did not follow the pack, she never had. She refused to do what everyone else did, to her traditions began at home. They should invoke memories of a time long ago and remind you of the things that were important. Family traditions, now they were the way to go.
She could vividly remember her mother singing along to the radio as they decorated the Christmas tree. They would drink hot chocolate and have a lovely time as they decorated, dressing up in the tinsel and talking, catching up on the things they might not have had time to talk about before. Always on the 1st of December, always with Christmas songs playing and always as a family. And Sally had made sure that she'd done exactly the same with her boys.
Now it was Christmas Eve, the gifts had been purchased and wrapped, the tree had been decorated and the family had just about escaped with their sanity after a month of non stop christmas songs on the stereo courtesy of Grandma. Jeff had been the only one brave enough to suggest that maybe they listen to something else but he had quickly backed down when she had speared him with a glare that could have stripped the paint off Thunderbird Two’s hull if she had been close enough to it.
It’s tradition, she said, one of the only ones she could count on since moving to Tracy Island. Beautiful as the island was, it was far too tropical to feel in any way christmassy and the only way she could get in the mood (or so she claimed) was by listening to festive music.
She missed feeling the days grow colder as summer lost its grip on the world and the crisp, chilly days of fall took over. Once fall was firmly there and you couldn’t leave the house without a sweater it was only a matter of time before the smell of burning leaves and woodsmoke filled the air and winter came nipping at its heels. The cold of winter, the first flurries of snow, brought with it the sound of carols, bells and the smell of baking gingerbread. She loved being wrapped up in warm clothes and feeling the icy blast of wind that stole her breath and she missed it when temperatures on the island rarely changed at all.
Rescues often made regular meals and time off difficult, they often interrupted family time and special occasions. The Tracys were used to it, but it did make getting into any kind of routine difficult and often meant that such things as birthdays and christmas felt unimportant. But not to Grandma, to her it was of vital importance and no one had better argue with her. Jeff, wise man that he was, had given up and retreated to his office, his almost soundproof door and peace.
Gordon was in London spending the day with Penelope for her birthday before they returned to the island that evening for Christmas. John was in Five as usual, finishing up preparations for a few well deserved days off (although he would probably be regretting his decision by dinner time Christmas Day), Kayo was visiting Kyrano for Christmas Eve and would return in the morning and Brains was wishing he had never walked into the lounge.
“Snow is falling, all around me, children playing, having fun,” Grandma sang, joining in with the video playing out on the holoprojector as she attempted to crochet a scarf figuring it was as traditional a pass time as any to indulge in, maybe it would be ready by next Christmas if she was lucky. “Come on, Brains, you know the words, join in.”
“B-but it’s not accurate for our climate,” he argued, never having been one to enjoy a sing-along like some members of the family. “There is never snow on T-T-Tracy Island.”
“That’s not the point, Brains,” she sighed, trying to untangle the yarn that insisted on knotting on her lap rather than in the carefully ordered way it should.
“It’s not?”
“No!” She tossed the scarf, all four wonky rows of it, onto the table, giving up for now before she was tempted to lob it up Thunderbird Two's tail pipe.
“I d-don’t understand,” Brains admitted, something that was very hard for him to do. He was used to being one of the smartest people in the room, if not the smartest, and now, here he was, not understanding a simple thing like this. Maybe he’d been working too hard?
“It’s not about the song, it’s about the meaning behind it,” Grandma explained patiently for what felt like the millionth time that December. “It’s traditional.”
“A song is traditional?”
“Well, yes, but not just the song, it’s the image it portrays. Christmas in my day meant snow, cold weather clothes, wrapping up warm, skating on a frozen lake, then coming inside to drink hot chocolate around a crackling fire and listening to carols on the radio with my mother as we waited for my father to get home. We knew that once he was home the holidays could really start. He worked hard and had very little time off in a year, only every other sunday, two days for Easter and Christmas Day.”
“Kinda like us then,” Alan muttered from his spot on the couch where he had been relaxing before breakfast, playing a handheld game.
“Yes, and because we have none of the weather here or the time off, not that I would want to be anywhere else, but the only thing that really makes it feel like Christmas is the songs. So we’re going to keep the music and you’re all going to like it.”
A new song came on and Grandma sighed happily as Alan groaned as if in pain.
“I love this song, it was one of my favourites,” she stared dreamily at the screen. “Oh, it’s Christmas time, mistletoe and wine. Children singing Christian rhyme. Isn’t he handsome? I wouldn’t kick him out for eating cookies.”
“Grandma!” Alan gasped, shocked to the core, his tone showing his disgust.
“What? Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I can’t look and do a little window shopping. I’ve got all his albums, including his live concerts, it’s just not Christmas without seeing him on the TV. Here, I’ll show you. Just listen to him some more and I’m sure you’ll learn to love him.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes, it’s Christmas.”
“That’s your answer to everything,” Alan grumbled but he put down his game and prepared to do his duty as a grandson.
“I’ll start you off easy with Little Town,” Grandma told him, pressing play.
***
“This comes to pass, when a child is born. When a child is born… oh, oh, o-” Grandma sang along to the fifth song of her playlist when, to Alan’s intense relief, John’s hologram popped up, replacing the music video that had been playing.
“International Rescue, we have a situation,” he started, then paused looking around the room, frowning when he saw only Grandma, Brains and Alan in attendance.
“A situation? Yes! I’ll get Scott and Virg,” Alan cheered, jumping up.
"That's not the reaction I usually get," John observed, wondering what could have brought about that sort of excitement so early in the morning from the brother who liked his sleep the most.
“Never mind that. What have you got?” Grandma asked, all business now, her Christmas spirit in song form now forgotten.
“Guests trapped in an ice hotel in Sweden.”
“Scott! Virgil! It’s safe to come up, the music’s off and John needs us to go to Sweden,” Alan yelled as he clattered down the stairs to the kitchen where the older two were no doubt hiding.
“A what now?” Grandma asked, ignoring Alan.
“An ice hotel,” John repeated. “The hotel was first built in 1990 in the small village of Jukkasjarvi, Sweden, now they rebuild it every year and add to it with a different architect for each room. I’m sure it looks very beautiful when you can actually see it and a freak snow storm hasn't covered the entrance then frozen.” He pulled up a feed to show what must have been the hotel but all that was visible was two large piles of snow.
“What are we looking at, John?” Scott demanded to know, jogging up the stairs with Virgil hot on his heels, Alan bringing up the rear.
John brought up a picture of the ice hotel in its normal glory.
“This is the Winter Heart Hotel in Sweden,” he began. The picture showed a beautiful backdrop of a frosty night with the northern lights visible dancing in the sky behind two pure white domes of snow which were obviously the hotel. They looked like elaborate igloos, connected by covered tunnels and slopes that had formed on the sides with big, wooden looking doors on the front of the domes. The snow sparkled in the moonlight and even though it was clearly freezing cold the whole place looked very welcoming. Little cabins were scattered here and there around the hotel itself, giving the whole scene a picture postcard feel.
“Looks great,” Virgil commented.
“That was it three months ago,” John answered before flicking aside the picture to replace it with the previous image. “This is it as of four hours ago.”
“Woah,” Scott breathed, his eyes tracking over the large mounds of snow that covered the domes so effectively they looked to be nothing but snowy hills. “What happened?”
“Freak snow storm blew in from the arctic circle and dumped around seven feet of snow on the hotel overnight. By the time morning came the fresh snow had frozen solid, trapping a number of high profile guests inside.”
“High profile?”
“The Winter Wonder charity concert happens there every year, people from all over the world pay big money to stay there and not just for the music,” John answered. "It's reported to be an amazing experience but not for the faint hearted. They keep the inside at a constant -5 degrees centigrade, although they do have warm rooms of the hotel such as bathrooms and some bedrooms. They should be fine in there for now, but we obviously need to get them out. The hotel itself has been trying to dig their way through for the past hour. They had a snow plow of their own but it broke a week or so ago and as no snow was forecast they hadn't rushed to replace it.”
“Any casualties?” Virgil asked, already walking across the lounge to his launch chute.
“None reported, apparently they have placated the guests with numerous free drinks and dinner, but unfortunately they are now reported to be getting a little rowdy.”
“Rowdy? Well it won’t do to keep them waiting much longer, will it? I guess we had better hit the skies,” Scott grinned, crossing over to stand in front of the wall where his launch chute was hidden, reaching up to grasp the light fittings that triggered the revolving door. “See you out there!”
“Alan, you're with me,” Virgil called, much to Alan’s delight. He dropped down in one of the bucket seats that would take him or a passenger to Thunderbird Three so he could suit up, grinning like a mad man, happy to be off the island for a few hours.
“I’ll send the coordinates and brief you when you’re airborne,” John told them as they all vanished, his hologram blinking out a moment later.
“Well,” Grandma sighed, turning back to the holoprojector. “Now that they have gone I guess it’s just you and me, Brains.” With a quick flick of her wrist she had turned the music video on, the sound drowning out Brains’ pitiful groan.
***
“Bulldozer Pod is go!”
“Alan, be careful with it!” John warned, his voice echoing around the pod cabin, as the bulldozer shot forward at a much faster speed than was sensible. His hologram popped back into existence to give their littlest brother one of his patented death stares when Alan dared to roll his eyes at him.
“I think I know what I’m doing, it’s just a little snow.”
“No, it’s not just a little snow, if you go too deep or too far you’ll risk taking out one of the walls of the hotel itself. It’ll register as snow, exactly as the rest of it does. Here,” John paused to send through the holographic map overlay he had just finished creating. The overlay settled on top of the map already in front of Alan from the pods scans, then sank down over the snowy mounds, now showing the outline of the buildings.
“Avoid the ice walls, I got it,” Alan assured him.
“Just make sure you pay full attention,” John ordered.
“I’ll be fine, go bug Scott, he’s the one you can’t trust.”
“Unfortunately there isn't just one, I can’t trust any of you,” John sighed and, against his better judgement, left Alan to his own devices.
Alan trundled forward a little slower than before, heeding the warning. He might be excitable but he wasn’t stupid and now that he had a better idea of what he was looking at and supposed to do he could see that he would have to be a little more careful.
As John had said, scans from their equipment were registering nothing but ice and snow, there was no clear definition between what was fresh snow and what had been there before and was part of the building. He could detect life signs deep inside the snow piles, as expected, but they seemed calm enough, their heart rates slow and easy, showing them to be totally relaxed.
He moved the pod closer to the huge wall of snow and maneuvered it into place, his plan being to work in a square, side to side, front to back, moving in closer and closer until the majority of the snow had been removed, allowing Virgil and Scott access to come in with a modified Sherpa Pod. The idea being to use the heat bank element to create what amounted to a high powered hair dryer to defrost the ice that had the guests trapped.
With his first run he plowed a wide path in front of the hotel a good twelve meters away. He checked the map overlay, calculating that he could manage two more full sweeps, working back and forth before he’d be risking getting too close and would have to hand over to his brothers.
Scott and Virgil were configuring the modifications to the Sherpa Pod when John called in to give them an update.
“Alan has removed the snow down to quarter of a meter from the doors, now it’s down to you guys.”
“FAB Thunderbird Five,” Scott answered, swinging up into the passenger seat of the pod. He’d finally grown out of his desire to drive every single vehicle he got into and had learnt that Virgil was, in general, a much more capable pod pilot than he was, although he’d never admit that out loud.
Virgil gave him that look that said he knew exactly what he was doing but, being the more peace loving Tracy, he declined to comment. Instead he climbed effortlessly into the driver's seat and settled in. He carefully guided the vehicle down the module ramp and out onto the snow, ignoring Scott’s impatient huff in response to his sedate pace.
“Slow and steady,” he quoted, knowing that snow was tricky terrain to navigate at the best of times and this wasn’t the time or the place in which to push their luck.
“The danger here is with the hotel itself,” John told them as Virgil made his way across the snow.
“How so?” Scott asked. “I thought the reports said that the hotel was stable.”
“It’s made of the very thing we’re going to be melting,” Virgil answered, checking his instrument readouts as he navigated up and over the snow into the ditch that Alan had excavated.
“Oh, yeah, good point,” Scott conceded. “So what’s the plan?”
“The snow fall isn’t the real problem here, the hotel can take the weight of it easily having been subjected to weight tests to ensure it could retain its structural integrity for these exact reasons,"John answered. "In this case all we need to do is concentrate on freeing the doors, the rest, as long as they take precautions, should be fine to leave in situ.”
“Got it, just the doors,” Scott confirmed.
“You’re going to have to go steady,” John warned. “There’s not a lot of clearance there, Alan has done his best but it’s going to be a delicate operation.”
“Steady is my middle name,” Virgil assured him. “I’ve got it under control. You just concentrate on keeping the hotel employees in the loop.”
“FAB,” John answered, blinking out as quickly as he had come.
Heat bank raised, Virgil worked the controls expertly, taking his time to melt away the snow that was left, being careful to keep it moving and only work on the front of the hotel where the doors should be, following the same map overlay that John had provided for Alan.
Alan, they saw, had done a thorough job, moving the snow far out of the way and was now using the loader and the pod’s caterpillar tracks to tramp down and spread out the snow he’d plowed, eliminating the possibility of the new snow piles posing a danger to anyone.
After only a few minutes of careful work the doors to the main entrance of the hotel began to appear through the snow as it melted away, sliding down the wood. Virgil checked the map one more time, realising that there was little more he could do without risking the ice of the hotel itself.
“I’m gonna have to get my exo-suit and do the rest by hand,” he decided, sounding like he was talking to himself, almost like he had forgotten that Scott was even there. Scott declined to comment, busy watching Alan work, pleased to see that, although the youngest Tracy sometimes had the same kind of offbeat humour as Gordon, he was as competent and sure as ever in his work.
Virgil turned the pod back to the module, not wanting to walk the entire way and, leaving Scott to reconfigure the pod to something a little more manageable for travelling across snow, he got himself into the mechanical suit.
Twenty minutes later a stream of grateful employees and guests came pouring out of the freed doors, all talking at once, jabbering away in excitement at seeing the mighty Thunderbird vehicles up close.
“Please, please come inside,” one waiter gushed, grabbing Scott by the arm and hauling him into the hotel. Virgil glanced at Alan who shrugged, it wasn’t like they couldn't be spared for a little longer. "My name is Felix, please, anything I can do, just tell me."
"It's OK, Felix," Scott started. "We don't need you to do anything…" he trailed off as they stepped inside, their attention instantly taken by their first look at the hotel.
“Woah,” they all breathed in unison, their eyes feasting on the beauty in front of them. They were surrounded on all sides by sparkling, crystal like slabs of ice that formed a lobby area that immediately opened up into an ice bar, a warmly wrapped up waiter behind the bar ready to take their orders. Several guests sat on fur covered ice chairs, sipping from thick glasses that looked to be crystal but were obviously made of ice too.
“This is just...wow,” Virgil’s eyes darted here and there, trying to take in everything at once. He slipped his arms out of the exo-suit and allowed the mechanical limbs to fold down alongside the suit against his back. Reaching out a hand he stroked the delicately carved face of an ice maiden, one of the many sculptures that were dotted here and there. “Can I have a look around?”
“Of course,” the waiter, Felix, who had invited them in nodded eagerly, clearly happy to be of service. “Come, I give you a tour.”
Virgil knew that he must have looked a sight, stomping down the icy walkway with his suit on so, with Scott’s help, he shed it and left his brothers to guard it while he followed the man who had already darted ahead.
Now that he was free of the cumbersome machinery he was able to navigate the icy corridors and smaller walkways with ease. He descended a staircase, again completely made of ice, something he found hard to get his head around as it all looked like crystal, and stepped into a high ceilinged room that sported the most magnificent chandelier he had ever seen.
The ice shards hung down in elegant lines that culminated in three perfectly formed circles. The artist in him was in awe of the work that had gone into creating something that was not only visually stunning but practical at the same time.
Walking through the rooms he saw more exquisite sculptures, fur draped beds in bedrooms that each had a different theme such as under the sea with giant ice jellyfish hanging from the ceiling, clowns, dancers, and solar systems. On the way to the beautiful chapel with its ice shard altar and fur covered pews, he saw a magnificent unicorn that dominated a large part of a hallway. Here and there he saw leaves, animals, birds, faces and flowers, all carved from the ice and snow that made up the hotel. It was, simply put, stunning.
He returned to find Scott and Alan, who had taken up residence in one of the warm rooms with cups of hot chocolate, surrounded by guests. Many of them seemed a little worse for wear after their extended stays in the bar areas where the drinks had been flowing freely in an effort to keep them unaware as to the predicament they had been in.
It seemed that the guests were also fans, their voices carrying that slightly raised, mildly slurred tone that drunk people got, as they peppered the boys with questions.
“We really can’t reveal any of our secrets,” Scott told them, sounding as if he were repeating himself for maybe the twentieth time.
“You eat?” someone popped up behind them and offered a delicious looking burger on a plate.
“Oh, don’t mind if I do,” Scott grinned, reaching to take it. “Thank you.”
Alan and Virgil happily accepted their own plates, diving in to take large bites, eager for some food that hadn’t been cremated by Grandma. Decent food was hit or miss on the island, but everything dished up was met with a general sense of trepidation until the first bite determined its edibility.
“Damn, this is good,” Alan mumbled, his mouth full.
“I’ll say it is,” Virgil agreed, his cheeks resembling hamster pouches as he answered with his mouth full.
"I am glad you like,” Felix smiled, looking rather proud of himself. “They are our speciality, made from our own reindeer.”
Alan choked, his eyes growing wide as he stopped chewing and stared at the burger. Reaching for a napkin he, as politely as possible, spat out the food in his mouth.
Virgil looked a little horrified while Scott just shrugged and kept right on eating. Scott counted himself as a foodie, he would try anything once, or even twice if he was undecided the first time. He had eaten in top restaurants around the world, in little cafes, from carts on the side of the road, anywhere and everywhere that there was food, there was Scott, willing and ready to try it.
“What?” he asked when Alan stared at him in disgust. “It’s a burger, plus it’s good.”
Virgil was obviously fighting some internal war between his stomach and his brain. On the one hand he was hungry and Scott was right, the burger was damn good, but on the other his brain was insisting on conjuring up visions of Santa and his sleigh. In the end his stomach won and he took another bite.
“Virgil!” Alan gasped, making Virgil wince guiltily.
“There’s nothing wrong with the burger, Al. They were good enough to feed us, it would be rude not to.”
Alan, clearly torn between his desire to not be seen as impolite and his desire to not eat Rudolph, was spared from making a decision by a sudden burst of music coming from deeper in the hotel. All three Tracy brothers groaned in unison.
“Is there a problem?” Felix asked, concern etched on his face. Had he given them a bad burger? Food poisoning? Insulted their ancestors? “Anything I can do to thank you, please do say.”
“No,” Virgil assured him. “We just recognised the music, that’s all.”
“Ah,” Felix smiled, clearly relieved. “That is the band beginning a last minute rehearsal and sound check before the concert.”
“Concert?”
Felix pointed to a holographic poster on the wall.
Alan’s eyes widened in recognition and he leant over to whisper to Scott. Scott listened, his eyes widening too as he realised what his little brother meant.
Clearing his throat he made his request. “Maybe there is something you can do for us, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course! Anything!” Felix gushed, pleased that the high profile Tracy brothers weren’t mad at him.
“Can you get us their autographs?”
Felix grinned, looking even more proud of himself than he had before.
“I can do better than that.”
***
Grandma hadn’t known what to think when Virgil had called home and told her that Scott was on his way back to collect her, telling her only to wear as many warm clothes as she could, but she had done as she was told.
Digging deep into the back of her wardrobe where she kept the clothes that had languished there for more years than she cared to remember, she had dragged out a thick winter coat and a warm top to wear under her customary onesie, along with wooly socks, gloves, scarf and hat.
She was waiting impatiently in the launch bay before Scott had even made it home and was soon comfortably installed in a passenger seat as her eldest grandson whisked her away into the unknown.
Virgil and Alan were there to greet them as they landed, a pair of ice skates in hand and identically proud grins on their faces.
They had spent a pleasant hour or so sliding around on the custom built ice rink. The ice, as with the hotel, had been imported from the nearby Torne River. Grandma was pleased to find that, although slightly rusty at first, she was able to take to the ice with a reasonable degree of competency, much better than that of her grandsons.
Scott was all long limbs and over enthusiasm, trying to go fast straight off the bat and failing spectacularly until he slowed down and figured out how to walk before he ran. Virgil was a little better, adopting the tactic of trying to place his feet carefully, as he would while walking, getting his footing before doing a slow first lap around the outer edge of the rink, gaining confidence the longer he was on there.
Alan it seemed, much to their surprise, had inherited her grace on the ice and took to it easily, executing an almost perfect first lap before streaking off across the ice like a bullet.
Skating gave way to an impromptu snowball fight started by Scott aiming at Alan and finished by Grandma who pelted the troublemakers with snow while Virgil held them in place.
“How about we head inside and grab a warm drink before heading home?” Virgil suggested, shaking the snow off his shoulders, thankful that their uniforms protected them from such a wide range of weather conditions.
“That would be wonderful,” Grandma sighed happily as they walked towards the hotel.
“I want to thank you boys for such a lovely surprise. Much as I love our home it’s been nice to feel snow again and experience an old fashioned Christmas eve again after so long of endless summer.”
“You deserve it,” Scott assured her, draping an arm around her shoulders.
“Yeah, it was our pleasure,” Alan agreed, holding the still freely swinging door open for her.
Grandma experienced much the same wonder as they had as she enjoyed a tour of the hotel at the hands of the ever accommodating Felix, who had been more than happy to be her guide, showing her all the hotel had to offer.
It was beautiful, a true once in a lifetime winter wonderland of crystalline ice and exquisite sculpture that reminded her of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, her favourite book as a child, when the White Witch had frozen all of Narnia in an endless winter.
Felix was happy to let her wander at her own pace, never trying to hurry her as she explored, her eyes taking in all there was to see. But, eventually, she grew tired and needed to rest, not being as young as her mind would have her believe. She was more than happy to be delivered back to her waiting grandsons with the promise of a hot chocolate in one of the warm rooms.
The function room was beautiful in its simplicity, decorated in a cozy cabin style with insulated fireplaces here and there which gave off no heat but looked perfect in the wood panelled room. There were comfy couches and wooden tables with rings of chairs dotted here and there, all arranged in a semi circle that faced towards the raised platform that was acting as a stage if the instruments there were any indication.
The room was still empty apart from five men sitting around a table, enjoying a quiet drink before the show started. They looked up expectantly when the door opened and the three Tracy boys led their special guest into the room.
Grandma had never been one to be lost for words before but there was a first time for everything and this appeared to be that time. She froze in the doorway, requiring a gentle nudge from Virgil to get her moving again. Her eyes were firmly fixed on one man as he put down his drink and moved towards them, a bright smile of welcome on his face.
“Hi there,” he started, holding out his hand, “I’m Cli-”
“Cliff Richard Jr!” Grandma shrieked, coming out of her starstruck daze to grab his hand between both of hers, yanking it closer, reeling him in for a smothering hug.
“Woah, easy there, Grandma!” Scott laughed as the singer’s arms flailed in shock. “Let the man breathe.”
Alan gently untangled Grandma’s arms from around Cliff, allowing him to back up and regain his freedom.
“So,” Cliff wheezed, straightening his tie and clearing his throat, regaining his composure before he bestowed upon her another dazzling smile. “Am I right in assuming you’ll be staying for the show?”
“You bet your ass I am.”
“Grandma!” all three boys yelped in shock but, thankfully, Cliff just laughed.
The music might not be to their tastes, in fact for Alan it was akin to torture, but seeing the look of joy on their Grandmother's face made it all worth it.
And wasn't that the true spirit of the season? Taking the time to think about others before you thought of yourself, spreading joy and happiness whenever you could.
Grandma was the heart of International Rescue, the heart of the house and the loving center of their family. She had always gone out of her way to look after them, now it was their turn to give something back to her. Something that she would never, ever forget.
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds 2015#grandma tracy#Scott Tracy#John Tracy#alan tracy#Virgil Tracy#Gordon Tracy#willow-salix#secret santa 2020#tag team secret santa
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Peonies Chapter 1
soOkay so for those of you who didn’t know what the heck just happened. Tumblr decided to screw with the first chapter and not post it properly. Rude I know!
So I jumped on my work computer and going to quickly post it so I don’t get in trouble. Teehee.
Y’all ready for this though! I’m so excited for this one! The vocabulary that I’ve had to use is quite nice and fits the times perfectly!
Next Chapter
masterlist
HERE WE GO!
Peonies a a charming lady
She doesn’t like a spot too shady
Likes to live out in the light
Dressed in red or pink or white
To Bloom brighter than the earth
And to defeat all others
What is it like to be a Duchess who will be Governing a vast amount of Northern Italy? I’m not quite sure yet due to the fact mio padre is still ruling over the land and I’m being tutored in the fine games of politics. Oh do not get me wrong I would rather acquire all of the information of learning to rule rather than taking the responsibility too prematurely.
Handing my reins to the stable boy as I began walking inside the Monastery to meet with Mother Superior Ani. I speak to her for council when it comes to somewhat major decisions in my life. This major decision is traveling to Russia and supporting Catherine in her new life. From what she has told me and what I’ve heard from padre. Russia is an absolute catastrophe.
Something is relaxing about walking through the monastery when the sound of the nuns are singing. The beautiful art of the story of Christ, the only sound besides their songs are the winds blowing and birds chirping. Quite beautiful. Standing in the middle of the courtyard as I waited for Mother Ani to greet me for our chat.
“Good afternoon Lady Chiara.” I was greeted by Sister Calderón along with Sister Grazia. The only set of twin nuns I’ve ever witnessed in my life.
“Good afternoon Sister Calderón. Sister Grazia. I’m assuming that Mother Ani is finishing her afternoon confessions?” Asking them as they both nodded.
“How are we feeling today?” They smiled as they approached me.
“We’re going on a mission trip to Africa very soon!” Sister Calderón cheered as Sister Grazia jumped a little.
“We’re finally leaving!” Sister Grazia exclaimed as I smiled and clapped for them.
“Congratulations you two!”
“I’m assuming they told you about their mission trip?” Mother Ani approached us as they collected themselves in front of her. Nodding and they scurrying off back into the chapel.
“They’re very excited. Mother Ani. I promise not to take much of your time today as I know dinner is soon.”
“It’s quite alright. Shall we stroll in the gardens?” She asked as I nodded. As I mentioned before I go to her for counseling as she is the wisest person I’ve ever met in my entire life. Her wisdom comes from true experience unlike most men in the Catholic Church. We began walking towards the gardens so that we may talk in absolute privacy. I need her advice on my thoughts of going to Russia.
“Mother Ani. What have you heard about Russia?” Halting at my question as I expected her reaction. Shocked and in confusion.
“Why are you asking?” Sighing at her question as we entered the archway into the garden.
“My cousin Catherine has married the Emperor of Russia and I’m quite concerned for her. She’s written some horrific things that have happened to her after only being married to him these past few weeks. He has punched her, killed her bear that he gifted her for their wedding, and even has multiple lovers. I know that’s very normal but that’s not exactly the way Catherine and I were raised. I think I would like to go to Russia and support her as she becomes accustomed to her new life.”
“I say that is a very gracious thing to do for your cousin. But are you prepared to deal with the insanity of the monarch and Russian court?” I’ve heard some very bizarre things about them and I get this feeling Catherine should have some sort of noble ally.
“I have been taught how to deal with any form of court and spoiled Monarchs. And being next in line to Govern these lands, they would not dare to lay a finger on me.They’re too busy with Sweden and if they were to kill me, Italy would align with the Swedish in order to defeat the Russians. So that’s not my concern. My only one being is to keep myself sane. Will you pray for me Mother Ani for a safe return?” We stopped as we faced each other.
“Of course my child. When do you leave?”
“In a few days. Mio Padre is sending me with a brand new horse and arms for self defense. Just in case he says. Needs me to stay alive if I’m to do my duty as a Grand Duchess soon.”
“May God protect you on your journey and your aid in Russia. To think when you were baptized at Basilica di San Francesco. You would become this fair and wise over the years. You will make a beautiful Duchess of Italy.” Her words are always ones of great fulfillment. Always positive and never false. A little overconfident but there’s nothing wrong with having a little confidence in yourself. As long as you can control it without coming off as conceited.
~~
The best gift to bring when arriving at a palace that you're staying for a few weeks is a vast variety of different wines. As a gift I’ve brought wine that has been sitting and aging beautiful for almost sixty years. Both sweet and bitter red wines that as I’ve said, have aged beautifully.
I decided to ride up to the Royal Palace on horseback in order to make an impression on the Emperor when he greets me. Besides if I sit in that carriage another minute my legs and bottom will hate me for the rest of my life.
Leading my carriage (which had my maid Fernanda inside) to see that the front yard of the palace was empty. They must be hunting or in the palace working on running the Empire. Pulling the reigns of my horse as we entered the entryway of the palace into the courtyard. Catherine was standing at the entrance as she looked radiant but yet somewhat good. We were practically sisters till I began my schooling of politics.
Climbing down off my horse as she walked towards me as we both bowed to each other. Which left us giggling at each other to then give each other a hug. I have missed my dear cousin/sister and oldest friend in my life!
“My dear Catherine, it is lovely to see you before me. And an Empress! Last time I saw you we were reading Shakesphere on our boat around Sardinia!” I cheered as we linked arms for us to walk inside the palace.
“I’m glad you have arrived at my new home. Sadly..it is not a home sweet home. Not yet at least.” She commented as I nodded.
“I’ve read in your latest letter and from a few reliable sources. I’m not quite sure how the hell you are managing all of this.” I’m finally able to show my true colors in front of Catherine as I must be proper in front of the family, advisers, and so on and so forth. But with Catherine. It is nothing but honesty and true colors.
“The women of court?” Asking her I could feel her cringe.
“Simple minded with their heads filled with emptiness.” We began walking up the stairs as my servant and others carried my things up the stairs.
“Most of the women in court are filled with only air in their heads. Mother always said that entertaining the women of the court is next to impossible. But don’t worry. I am here and those women don’t know what I will be bringing these next few weeks.” We made it to the top of the stairs as a woman approached us.
“Marial. This is my dear cousin Duchess Chiara! She will be placed in the room next to me and I will be telling her all our plans!” Catherine winked as she had a cheeky smile. Tell me what plans? What has she got up her sleeve?
My room was not as big of course as I am a guest. It was a light blue room that had white flowers painted all over. The bed was very tall and extremely spacious with blue and white bedding. I think in England they would call this the Blue Room. A grand fireplace was lit that was also baby blue with gold trim. Come to think of it there was a lot of gold trim in this room which is sort of weird.
Fernanda and those who were bringing my trucks came into my room as she took around my guest room. I took off my riding hat to throw on the bed as Fernanda sat down on one of the guest chairs.
“It’s very modern. But I miss our home.” I nodded as I began unbuttoning my riding coat.
“So do I already. We remembered to pack Padres guns right?” Asking her as she looked over from the chair.
“Yes. I believe they’re bringing them up now.” She pointed towards the door as the rest of my servant brought in my trunks of different forms of weaponry. My fencing sword, regular sword, muskets, rifles, and pistols. I’m going to hunt some sort of wild beast that lives in this mad land and bring it home as a trinket. A Siberian Tiger would be a very nice trinket to bring home for la famiglia.
Catherine came into the room with her maid in a very powerful march. As if she had something extremely important to tell me. AS in a life or death situation that couldn’t wait to be told.
“We have much to discuss before dinner tonight.” Looking at Fernanda who excused herself. I’ll catch her up on the gossip later.
“Now. I’m glad you decided to come and visit me. I have exciting news that I could use your help desperately with.” She pulled me over to the chairs as her servant stood next to her.
“I’m staging a coup d'état and in dire need of your help.” Not what I was expecting to hear in honesty. A coup? To think last year she was so excited to come to Italy and watch La Serva Padrona. And now a coup?
“I umm..mamma mia a coup? Are you quite sure about this Catherine? I’d rather not see you dead. We have too much fun together.”
“Which is why I have you. You’ve been studying how to rule a land and how to take the necessary steps..
“Catherine. I’ve been raised and tutored in Governing a land to be a Duchess not an Empress.” They’re very different in a weird way..wait why am I making excuses! But I should meet the Emperor to see why she’s forming a Coup and if he’s not as bad as I thought, maybe talk her out of it. Gossip from the court isn’t always trustworthy, obviously.
“Let me experience at least one night with your husband..not sexually of course because that’s disgusting. I sadly can’t be seen helping stage a completely different country's coup. Might make a bad reputation for me. But if it is as bad as everyone is saying. I’m in.” She nodded in my response as a small boy came into our room.
“The Emperor requested your presence.” He told Catherine as she rolled her eyes.
“Get yourself ready for dinner Chiara and make sure you take a drink of something. You’ll definitely need it.” Alcohol? Should’ve brought a few barrels of wine just in case. I’ve never had vodka and I know these Russians drink alcohol as if it was coming from their mothers tit.
~~~
I’ve decided to pull out the big dress tonight as to make an impression on her entire court. The Duchess is here and she’s not meant to be tampered with! My brand new bright red dress that had white trills and designs all across it. I wore the royal sash that was given to me by King Ivrea Spoleto which was pearl white. My hair was of course up (even though it hurts my head a little bit) with pearls wrapping around my mountain of hairstyles. I truly don’t approve of it due to the fact that it takes too long to put up.
“Do I look ready to impress an entire court of Russians.” Looking into the mirror one last time as my chocolate hair looked delectable.
“From what I’ve seen going up and down the stairs of this place. You look absolutely stunning.” Fernanda commented as I smiled at her.
“Oh! You need your knife!” Fernanda commented as I placed my right leg up on the end of my bed as she got into the bottom of my trunk. My grandfather's hunting knife that was given to him by the Queen of Chad when he first took reign. It was a beautiful sycamore that swirled at the base, the blade was a beautiful silver that shines everytime you display it. Even after all these years it looks stunning and deadly. Fernanda allowed me to put on the knife holster around my thigh then placed the knife in its holder.
“Wish me luck for dinner. And I wish you the best of luck with chatting with the servants tonight for dinner. I’ll sneak you some desserts if we have anything that’s a pastry.” Winking at her as she nodded.
Walking out of my room as I opened my fan as I waited for Catherine to come out of her room. I think Fernanda tied my corset a little too tight but not the first time this has happened. Though I’d rather be wearing pants and my button ups. Which will be what I wear when I’m running around the palace. Catherine came out of her room in a beautiful white, pink, and red dress that really made her pure white skin shine. Not to mention her blonde hair shined brightly.
“Are you ready for the show?” She asked as we began walking down the stairs.
“Not quite. But I did sneak a glass of wine into my room so my body is not as tense.” We made it down the bottom of the stairs.
“So who is the biggest ass kisser of the Emperor? There’s always one.”
“His name is Grigor Dymov. He kisses the Emperor's ass so much that he allows his own wife to be his whore.”
“The second hand man married to the Emperors would be whore. If we are to do this I’m assuming we’re going after his right hand man? No. A much more subtle approach will be safer. Not that I’ve made my decision on whether to help, but I'd like to at least like to know your plan of action.”
“We’re first going after Count Orlov who has an understanding of the state of Russia. He’s a modern man who reads all of the famous authors in Europe.”
“I’m assuming he’s in the inner circle then?” Walking down the long hallway then stopping in front of the double doorway.
“Yes. We're here. Just put on a fake smile and we’ll be just fine.”
The doors opened and a wave of heat hit my skin. A mixture of alcohol and what smells like fish hit my nose as I wanted to just go back to my room. But I have to do this and need the impression in order to make my decision.
My fan helped me cool down tremendously as I was looking around at The Emperor's Court. To my right there were some women watching butterflies flying around her in a complete state of awe! They’re butterflies! Oh my goodness it is a show! There of course was dancing in the middle of the room that looked a little unfamiliar. I have to remind myself that I’m not at home and in a completely different country.
Catherine handed me a glass of the clear liquid which is what I’m assuming is Vodka. Lifting my head back as It burned down my entire throat as I shook my head.
“Heavens Catherine!” I laughed as she giggled.
“Definitely helps.” She commented as we began walking further into the room then approaching the women with the butterflies.
“Wow.” Catherine put on this extreme different face and even attitude before me which impressed me.
“I am training them.” The women told us as she began coughing and gagging right in front of us. Holding her hand out to cough out two butterflies! What!
“They do not all make the journey to a new land. Oh and who is this lovely woman.” She asked Catherine as I tried to not scream in horror.
“This is my cousin Duchess Chiara of Italy. This is Aunt Elizbeth of Russia.” We bowed at each other as we sat down on one of the couches that was facing the fireplace. Which of course was absolutely grande with a large elk head hanging above it.
“Let us talk of how you are.” She even had a butterfly drawn on her face! Talk about obsessions.
“I’m quite well. Note my smiling face! My cousin has come to visit me for these next few weeks and I couldn’t be happier.” Smiling as I began looking around the room. Now where is this fat old man that she married and killed her bear! And who also punched her in the stomach.
“I do! Has Emperor Peter also had something to do with this?”
“He has been sweet.”
“Oh. At heart, that is him. You know, as a young boy, Peter would run to his mother, holding aloft a picture he’d drawn or a boat fashioned from leaves, his eyes and words begging for approbation for love. And she would level a gaze at him and hold him in it, and he would fall silent and go so still. And then tears would run from his eyes, and his whole body would begin shaking uncontrollably, and urine would pool at his feet...it was a curious phenomenon.” Catherine and I shared the same facial expression as Elizabeth finished her story to us about Peter. So obviously he wasn’t an old man as I thought and was just a grown child who can’t stand the thought of someone not loving him. Have I made the correct character judgment through his own Aunt? Yes.
“Why would she do that?” Catherine asked as I was also intrigued.
“Everyone has their thing. Hers was cruelty. So I’m asking for some forgiveness, some empathy, from one I can tell is filled with both.” So he’s just a messed up King with mamma and papa issues. Quite ordinary in the monarchs. We began watching Elizabeth playing with her butterflies as a servant offered me a tray of tiny glasses of vodka. Taking one, drinking it then placing it back on the tray. A snap came from Elizabeth as I noticed a butterfly then landed on her finger.
“That is incredible.” I commented as she looked at me.
“Indeed.” Elizabeth went into her own world as Catherine moved herself towards me.
“Ready to meet him?” She asked as I shook my head.
“Non..Non Catherine.” Grabbing my hand for us to start walking towards him. Pushing past all the dancers as I stood a few inches behind her.
“Good evening husband!” Her husband was with another man as I looked down to see he’s in a skirt? They both turned towards her as he had no interest in speaking to us.
“Empress.” He took a sip of his wine as his eyes drifted away from us. Why is he wearing a skirt?
“You look marvelous! And your skirt, it is very pretty.” Why is Catherine kissing her own husband's ass? What woman needs to kiss her own husband's ass! He turned towards us as he flashed himself. Luckily it was all covered.
“Thanks. It also allows one’s cock to swing free in the air. It’s marvelous. Old Madam Bolzoi whipped it up.”
“It’s genius. I apologize if I have been sour face lately. I had my blood in, and you know how that goes..Rrrr.” An excuse that is older than time itself. But usually works because men think they're always being over dramatic during our blood. When in reality they are just horrid creatures.
“Oh, right. I see. Well that explains much.”
“But I feel much restored.” I haven’t seen this much ass kissing since Peter was kissing Jesus’ ass.
“Who the hell are you?” His eyes drifted towards me as I took a step forward.
“My dear husband is my cousin Duchess Chiara of Italy.”
“Emperor.” Bowing in front of him as I then held up myself strong and ready to take on this madman.
“It is truly an honor to be invited here to stay in your breath taking palace. I bring gifts from my home being a beautiful batch of sweet and bitter red wines. In gratitude for letting me stay in your home.” Turning towards the door as about six barrels of wine entered the room as everyone began cheering.
“I hope you enjoy them as a sign of peace from Italy.” Smiling as I knew Catherine would enjoy that little show. Have to make sure the Emperor doesn’t see me as a threat and the goal was achieved.
“God you are stunning. Grigor doesn’t she make your cock hard?” My eyes widened at his statement as all I could do was just stand there.
“Extremely.” He shook his head as I wanted to shoot him. Back home if I was to be talked to like this, the men would be beating the life out of him. I promise you that’s exactly how that happens. My sister was once insulted by an Austrian diplomat..and let’s just say he ended up floating in the Adriatic sea the next morning.
“Tell me, great Emperor. What is the nature of this lively banquet? I've yet to catch up with the issues of Russia.” Everytime I open my mouth up to him, I can feel my skin twisting in regret and my tongue wanting to stop waggling.
“We are honoring some of our wounded who finally won a battle for us against Sweden. Poor fucking guys.” Catherine and I turned our heads to see them in the corner of the room.
“No eyes that one. To never see a naked women or a deer in full fucking fight again. Still, he may fuck ugly women and be happy now.” I’ve never wanted to slap someone so hard in the face!
“Huzzah!” Catherine cheered as she looked completely uncomftorable.
“Let us dance!” Swinging Catherine onto the dance floor as I took a few steps back into the crowd. Grigor I believe his name stood closely beside me as I noticed he was looking at me.
“My apologies Duchess. I did not mean anything by what I said towards you.” Stopping the waving of my fan to face him.
“The right hand man of the Emperor yes?” Asking him as we faced each other.
“Grigor Dymov at your service.” He bowed as I turned off my fake smile.
“I have no service for someone like you. The Emperor's right hand man who kisses his ass so much that shit must be stuck in your ears. I would pity you but being married to the Emporers would be whore. Now that is just..sad. Excuse me.” Walking away from him as I turned my head slightly to see that he was in utter shock.
We walked into the dinning room after the so called dance that her dellusionaly husband made her do as if they were drunk. Catherine and I entered the dining room as The Emperor kicked some sort of General out of his chair as he then moved Elizabeth out of her seat down one more.
“The fat ass gladly gave up his seat. As no Duchess shall be seating with the court members. Greedy fucks.” Peter laughed as I smiled at him. What a rude bastard. But not completely wrong about the people of court.
“Thank you Emperor.” Sitting down as one of the servants pushed my chair in. There were three glasses that sat in front of me at the table. One was filled with wine, another water, then finally a massive one filled with vodka.
A dish appeared at me that looked like some sort of dumpling dish with a side of red..pasty soup? Grabbing my spoon as I poked it as it was meat? Beets? Both? Dipping my spoon into the soup as it tasted..well. The beets were very spiced with a hint of vinegar. The meat was especially spiced but has a sweet after taste. Interesting.
From what I gathered about the Emporer. He’s literally a child that requires all the attention and love from every interaction he has with a person. Which doesn’t come as a surprise due to the fact that the Duke in Sardinia acted just like him, but he ended up jumping into the sea as he learned no one truly loved him. So once Peter realizes that no one truly loves him, maybe he’ll jump into the mouth of a Tiger.
“Tell me Dear. I hope you’re here to bring Catherine happiness. And not here to start trouble between the both of them.” Her Aunt Elizabeth asked me as I took a sip of my water.
“Well. When I received her letter about what happened between them..the bear and the punching. I care about her as if she was my own sister. All I’m here for is her happiness.” A butterfly landed on my nose which made her giggle.
“They see a good soul in you and love it. I hope that you feel welcomed to our home, and it was a good idea bringing wine as a gift. Peter loves his alcohol.” She giggled as I looked down to my nose so watch the butterfly crawl around the tip of it.
“Bring in those Swedish heads!” What? Is that code for a dessert? A servant took away my plate of food that I didn’t even finish yet as I noticed a tray was coming in that had hair on it?
“We will eat dessert under their beady gaze!” Peter giggled as a tray was placed in front of me that..had a Swedish head on it..
God please forgive me.
My stomach turned into knots as I felt the little dinner I had was making its way back up through my throat. Catherine and I looked at each other in disgust as I wanted to run from the room, get on my horse and ride home. Now I see..A coup sounds like a wonderful idea.
The pudding or whatever it was looked delicious but..I can’t..The vomit went into my mouth but I swallowed it back down then drinking my entire glass of water. Just breath Chiara and it will be almost over.
“You rude fucker!” Peter yelled as he lifted his head up to look at his face. Standing up as he began digging his finger into the head.
“Everyone! Poke their fucking eyes out!” He looked so proud of himself! Everyone excluding Catherine and I just sat there as the sound of squishing and eyeballs falling onto the trays filled my heads.
“If you don’t he’ll kill you.” She whispered standing up with the man's head. Doing the sign of the cross as I stood up to lift his head.
“Mi Dispiace. Possa Dio avere pietà della tua anima.” Catherine turned her head as I felt my eyes watering. A single tear fell as I dug my fingers into the first eye. The squishing, blood beginning to drip down my arm as the first eye popped out.
“HUZZAH! DEATH TO THE SWEDISH!” Peter yelled as everyone cheered, drinking their vodka and smashing the glasses onto the floor. Dropping the head onto the tray as everyone began leaving the dining room. My right hand was covered in blood as my toes curled up in my heels from the sight.
The dry blood on my hands was something I couldn’t stop looking at. It’s not that I’ve never seen blood before in my life..but when it comes from..a soldier who probably didn’t even want to fight..I hope that God is merciful to them. They needed to be buried and given a chance to enter the gates of Heaven.
I couldn’t move for..I’m not quite sure how long at this point. Long enough that the servants came into the dinning room to start cleaning up. A woman with a large sack began dropping them into a burlap sack.
“What will you do with them?” Asking the women as she looked up at me.
“Burn them.” No..no. They do not deserve to be burned. Catherine came into the room as I stood up and wanted to scream.
“I’m a Catholic...you’re an Orthodox..we both know their souls can not be saved..but they deserve some sort of burial. Is there a priest in this wretched palace?” She looked upon the dining room then walked over to the servant and then over to me.
“Let them gather the heads and we’ll go speak to the Bishop.” The servant handed us the sack of heads as we began carrying them down the hall as she led me to the Bishops room. It was much heavier than I thought it would be. Never thought I would be thinking a bag of decapitated heads would be heavy! Knocking on the door as he flung it open in annoyance of being distrubed.
“We need you to give these a Christian burial.” SHe ordered as I opened the bag so he could see the horrors of war.
“I can only do a whole body.” He was about to shut the door but I believe the faces that were displayed on Catherines and my face weren't going to take no as an answer. I will send a rider to the Vatican if I have to in order for them to have some sort of entering the gates of heaven.
“I could bless them.” The Bishop told us as I nodded in acceptance of the deal.
A pound of thunder rang out as the heads were gently placed into the hole in the ground. Hard cold rain poured down upon us for Catherine and I to hold hands. We watched as the dirt was beginning to pile on top of their heads. I grabbed my rosary that I wore around my neck for my fingers to hold my cross. The Bishop went on reading from the bible as I softly spoke my own prayer.
“Il Signore ti benedica e ti mantenga, mostrarti la sua faccia e abbi pietà di te. Volse lo sguardo verso di te e ti dava pace. Il Signore ti benedica…..Amen.” Finishing my prayer for the Bishop finished his prayer as he left Catherine and I out in the rain.
“I want to rip the crown off his head myself.” Blurting out as Catherine turned her heads towards me.
“A Coup d'état..sounds like a magnificent plan..”
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#grigor dymov#grigor dymov x reader#grigor#Gwil#Gwilym Lee#Gwily#The Great#Grigor Dymov x o/c#The Great hbo#elle fanning#catherine the great#peter the third#peter of russia#nicholas hoult#Marial#Count Orlo#Russia#Leo#Vlad
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12.10.2020
Hi!
I’ve seen so many great posts and found awesome studyblrs because of that challenge sooo I also wanted to try it! Let’s see if i can keep it up!
day 1: introduce yourself and tell us what you study!
Vera, 21,
raised in a smaaaaall small village in northern Bavaria
dog lover (especially my fuzzy bear Alva!)
scandinavia enthusiast, I actually went on an exchange year to Sweden in 2015/2016 <3
currently living at my parent’s house again because of online lectures and no need of an expensive appartement in my uni town...
crazy in love with my boyfriend with whom I have a more-or-less long distance relationship (depends on where his job needs him to be </3)
photography addict, every day with my phone (every second nice-looking frontage in any old town lol), on trips with my Canon EOS 1300D, hoping to be able to upgrade to a full frame some day !!
most photographed things: sunsets, sunrises, my dog, interior, architecture, light✨
I looove aesthetically pleasing photos, arrangements, situations, desks, sceneries. I just love them. Could get lost in studyblr/studygram/interior/architecture pictures for hours!
I actually played the piano for >10 years because I went to a Gymnasium (German high school) with music as one of the priority subjects - well, after my A-Levels I didn’t want to have anything to do with that anymore, oops (maybe someday again)
studying the 3rd of 6 terms for a B.A. Cultural Geography in Erlangen, Germany. I actually wanted to study urbanism or urban planning in Weimar or Erfurt, but neither of the universities wanted to have me. :( so here I am, studying Geography as a so-called plan C! :D and yes, I like it, so far.
so: this is me, my dog and my mind. :D I’m looking forward to getting to know this community better! <3 thanks for reading and have a nice day/evening, wherever in the world you lovely people are. :)
#studyblr community challenge#studyblr#studying#study#study motivation#mine#studyspo#studyinspo#study aesthetics#aesthetics#university#college#uni#yes thats a toilet in the background im sorry
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Hi elle! I hope life is treating you really well. As you deserve it!
My mood was really bad yesterday for some reason. It wasn't a serious one, but it really affected my day. Do you ever get that feeling that you want to cry, but for some reason tears don't come out... just little silent sobs...? Well, I felt that yesterday.
Now my moods a bit okay. I'm planning a vacation which may never happen to Sweden! Just making a pinboard of tourist attractions, best times to see the northern lights... some basic Swedish phrases! A girl can dream, right?
I hope you have a lovely day. Also, may I get the url of your spicy blog? My age is in the bio. Stay hydrated.
Take care. Ily😊
hi sadia !!
awe, I'm sorry that yesterday wasn't the best for you:( I definitely get how you feel :<< I'm glad that you're feeling better now tho!
and aaaah Sweden sounds lovely, I'd like to go there too. honestly, I'd just like to travel anywhere:<< but yes yes make that pinboard, dreams don't hurt anyone, right? which hq boy do you wanna take with you on your travels hehe
I hope you have a lovely day as well !! take care, ily right back :))
also I'll dm you the @ of the spicier sideblog hehe ;)
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Come Along (G, 1.4k)
on AO3
“Luna! Luna!” Ginny heard her boys echo around the house just after she’d heard the floo come to life.
“Boys! Don’t jump all over Luna, please!” she shouted down the hall from the kitchen where she was busy nursing a hungry Lily.
“We can’t, Mummy. She’s ma-hoo-sive!” That was James, as tactful as ever.
“That is not a nice thing to say to Luna, James. Apologise, please.”
“But she is,” his screwed-up face appeared at the kitchen door. “She’s bigger than when Lily was in your tummy.”
Luna waddled up the hallway behind James then, little Albus clutching her hand and staring at her protruding stomach. Ginny blinked a bit in surprise before speaking.
“Hello, Luna. Honeymoon went well I take it?”
“Oh yes, it went spectacularly. Thank you, Ginny. Have you got any ginger ale?”
“Umm, sure. I think I have some left over from Lily. Why don’t you just sit down. Albus?”
Al was still clinging to and staring at Luna so he jumped at his name but then sprang into action, pulling Luna – as much as he could – towards the nearest chair. Ginny began searching through the cupboards with her left hand for the ginger ale, her right cradling Lily to her chest as the little one was still attached to her breast.
“Ah ha!” she cried triumphantly, lifting the bottle down from the cupboard and pouring it into a summoned glass, taking it to Luna then sitting across from her friend who was staring at the red-haired baby on Ginny’s chest.
“Oh,” Ginny realised, following Luna’s gaze. “This is Lily Luna Potter. She’s been an angel so far.” She raised her eyes to Luna’s face and smiled.
“Yes, she’s beautiful, Ginny. A lovely girl to balance out your boys.” Her friend smiled distractedly as she rubbed her belly, eyes focusing on nothing in particularly.
“Lily Luna,” Ginny repeated pointedly. “Would you like to hold her?”
“No that’s alright.” She rubbed her stomach again without acknowledging Lily’s name and Ginny rolled her eyes.
“So, the Honeymoon. It must have been eventful,” Ginny waggled her eyebrows and looked at Luna’s hands cradling her stomach.
“Oh, Ginny you must go to Scandinavia. Everyone is just so lovely, and life moves so much slower there. We started in Sweden at Rolf’s Grandparents because they couldn’t attend the wedding, you know of course. Some of the tales he has, Ginny. It all sounds so wonderful, but he wasn’t too sure about the Nargles. It really is a shame for someone so learned not to have ever seen one. But then again, why would he? The house was perfectly clean, of course.”
Ginny quickly realised that Luna hadn’t grasped the implications of her eyebrow wiggling, but it was too late to stop her now. She shifted Lily to her shoulder to burp her and leaned back in the chair.
“Rolf was disappointed that we didn’t manage to see a Swedish Short Snout but they’re just the safe option when it comes to dragons, don’t you think? The Norwegian Ridgeback we were able to witness fishing near Bergen was much more interesting.”
“A dragon Luna? You saw a dragon?” James and Albus were wide-eyed, ensnared by Luna’s story now that she’d mentioned dragons.
“Yes, my little ones. And then, once we’d hiked through the forest, we saw a Granin flying above the trees. It was as magnificent as the Norse legends suggest. What we didn’t want to come across though was a Selma. It was a very interesting creature to see from a distance after it had stopped trying to eat Rolf. I’d told him that there were too many Nargles for him to go swimming in that lake.”
This drew a gasp from Ginny’s boys.
“Mummy, we won’t get eated if we go swimming in lakes, will we?” James asked, turning to her and pulling on her sleeve. She shook her head at him as Lily started wailing, having been disturbed from snoozing by her brother, although the noise didn’t seem to bother Luna.
“Then we moved on to Finland, so far above the Arctic Circle, where it was ever so cold and icy but it became so beautiful when the night’s sky lit up. We saw a Frost Salamander nest one day and they’re known to be lucky, so I guess they really were because the next night we made these two.” Luna smiled at her belly, cradling it between her arms, as she made her first acknowledgement of her very obvious pregnancy.
“That sounds wonderful, Luna. Under the Northern Lights surrounded by snow. So romantic.”
“Yes, but it was also practical. With the luck of the Salamanders and the full moon, the air echoing with the mating call of the Mooncalf, it was the perfect start for my Lorcan and Lysander.”
“Well…” Ginny was lost for words. A common occurrence around Luna that she hadn’t had to manage for the past 7 months. She settled on saying “congratulations.”
“Thank you. I think they made it possible for us to avoid the Pogrebins when we made it to Russia. Knowing that I was carrying my babies made Rolf and I too delighted for them to affect our happiness.”
“Well, that’s good then.” Ginny said, racking her brain for anything she’d ever heard about a Pogrebin, which sounded terrifyingly like a Boggart.
“Yes, and then the Graphorns we met also knew. They’re so intuitive and loved to nose gently at my stomach, and I was only just showing then. Rolf has photos. They’re so wonderful. We’re going to put them up in the nursery when we get chance. But not the photo of the Ukrainian Ironbelly. It blacked out the sky when it flew over us, so it didn’t make for very good photographing conditions.”
“Ooo but weren’t you scared, Luna? They’re the biggest dragons. The biggest!” James was staring at Luna again.
“Oh, it wasn’t scary Jamie. It was magnificent!” she grinned at him. “Just as magnificent as the Streelers we rescued from a muggle market in China. They were selling them for their colourful shells, not knowing that their slime is very poisonous.”
“Weren’t the Chinese Ministry doing anything about it? Ginny asked.
“Oh, Merlin knows. They had a lot on their hands with their Minister illegally collecting unicorn horns. At least I think that’s what the hotel manager said. She was also kind enough to show us a Demiguise that she had spotted in the mountains behind the town. It was beautiful. So ethereal. Although it was being teased horribly by the fairies that also lived there. They can be mean things.
“Then we went to find the Yeti and he wasn’t mean at all. He was honestly the sweetest thing. We didn’t even have to climb up to him because he sensed the twins and came down to greet us. Such a gentle beast.”
Ginny smiled and pressed a kiss to Lily’s forehead to hide a giggle. “If you say so, Luna.”
“Mummy…”
“No, James. You are not going to try and find the Yeti. It’s too cold in the mountains for your little body.” She starts tickling his sides with her free hand that isn’t holding Lily secure, pulling loud, wracking laughs from her eldest. “You must have been somewhere else Luna. You’re quite far on to not have been.”
“Of course. After the cold of Scandinavia and the mountains, we decided to head to the Indian Ocean. Sunshine, warm waters, lovely traditions and delicious food. We saw a Ramora swimming in the harbour one day protecting the boats, glittering silver in the golden sunshine. The contrast was breath taking. We had to watch out for the Cobra Lily though. Looks exactly like a plant and you wouldn’t know you’d passed one until it was too late. The Abarimon that we stayed with taught us what to look out for because they’re beautiful, but quite deadly. They also taught us medicine and language and dancing. They were very happy to have us stay so long. I think they enjoyed looking after me. But it was getting to the point where I couldn’t travel anymore so we knew we had to come home.”
“Well, I’m very glad you’re home. I missed you at Lily’s birth. You’re her Godmother you know… if you want to be.”
“Well that would only make sense wouldn’t it. Since you also gave her my name.”
Ginny’s eyes went wide in shock and then she burst out laughing because, of course. Only Luna would hear something so significant and not acknowledge it. That was their Luna. And she was back.
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It’s @ferrame‘s birthday!!!!!!
If you don’t know, this is the author of the definitive John Irving/Tom Hartnell modern AU, I dreamed of the fine deep harbour I’d find, as well as the entire Another New World series, which is A-MAZING.
As a little birthday gift, I have the first part of an untitled Irving/Hartnell plane crash AU I will likely never finish, and which was going to be super sad if I did. (Hint: Tom’s brother died of cancer several years before the story is set.) Rated M for a bit of naughtiness.
Happy Birthday @ferrame!
Tom arrives at his parents' house just as the snow begins to fall.
Betsy is the only one of the kids still at home, but their parents still decorate as much as they always did. The same wreath—faux pine branches with Styrofoam apples and wall-eyed wooden birds—is on the front door. The same string of multicoloured bulbs hangs from the eaves. There is a new addition: a wire-framed reindeer lit up in the middle of the front garden, snowflakes landing on its back, its antlers, its festive red scarf. With a smile, Tom raises his hand to ring the bell.
It seems the polite thing to do, given he no longer lives there. When there's no answer, he slips his key into the lock. The hall is in darkness, but firelight flickers from the direction of the front room. It sends out shadows, dancing on the floorboards and on the opposite hallway wall.
“Hello?” Tom hangs his coat on a hook, and puts his scarf on top. He kicks off his boots, then lines them up carefully against the wall. He didn't live with his mother for twenty-one years without learning something.
“Tom? We're here.” A voice comes from the other room, where the firelight glows. Tom follows it, his socks sliding on the wooden floor.
This room is also decorated, of course. The tree is short and scraggly as always. Betsy is the type of person who chooses that type of Christmas tree. Its spindly branches sag beneath the weight of half a dozen childhoods' worth of handprint ornaments and painted baubles and twinkling lights. Up top, an angel with a paper cup body and a golf ball for a head surveys all.
“Hey! What took you so long?” Tom's brother Johnny says. He's lounging on the sofa in tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt, his feet up on the coffee table and an open tin of Quality Street chocolates on his knee. Tom stops. He can't quite remember why, but he didn't expect to see him here. His presence is a surprise, but it's not the biggest one.
“John?” At the other end of the sofa sits John Irving, formal and tidy, his feet on the floor. He's dressed nicely as always, in a knitted jumper and corduroy trousers. “Like you're fifty years old,” Tom often teases him, but in truth, he likes the look. It suits John. Tom can't picture him wearing anything with an elastic waistband. “What are you doing here?”
John and Tom weren't going to be together over the Christmas holidays. They decided that weeks ago. “I have to go to my dad's,” John had said.
“Maybe you could drop by our place on Boxing Day,” Tom offered. “Or I could come to you.” It was worth a shot, even though John's reaction was exactly as Tom had expected it to be.
“I'm so sorry, Tom.” He seemed it. “It's not that I'm ashamed of you.” Tom knew that was true. “It's complicated.” That was also true. Tom knew he was lucky, as far as families went. They drove him mental most of the time, but there had never been any question of acceptance. From the earliest days, Tom knew there was nothing he could do, no one he could be, that would make his family love him any less.
John, it seemed, couldn't say that about his father and stepmother.
“You didn't tell me you had a posh boyfriend,” Tom's brother accuses, unwrapping a chocolate from its crinkly purple paper.
“I'm not posh,” John protests.
“Oh, no. Of course not.” Johnny laughs. “'I say, old boy, would this happen to be the residence of one hot piece of arse known as Sir Thomas Hartnell, Esquire'?”
“Shut up, Johnny.” Belatedly, Tom's heart soars. “I can't believe you're really here, John.” He goes around the sofa to sit beside him. “What made you change your mind?”
John licks his lips. His cheeks are pink, from the fire or from embarrassment. Tom knows John well. It's probably embarrassment. “Christmas is about love. I decided I wanted to spend it with the person I love the most.”
Tears prick at the back of Tom's eyes. He has more questions: does that mean he came out to his parents? How did they react? Tom's not sure he wants to hear the answers, or if John wants to share them now. Instead of asking, Tom kisses him. His hands go to John's strong shoulders, his thigh presses against John's. John kisses him back, softly and sweetly, with all that natural talent that made Tom doubt, the first time they did it, that John was really as inexperienced as he claimed to be. “Why would I lie about being a virgin at my age?” Was John's counterargument. Tom didn't have an answer for that one.
“Right, then. If it's going to be like that, I'm fucking off out of here.” Tom hears Johnny stand up. “And I'm taking my chocolates with me.”
“Bye,” Tom says, his lips still against John's.
“Don't come on the sofa,” Johnny warns. “Mum will kill you.” John's cheeks go from pink to scarlet, even as Johnny leaves the room.
“Ignore him,” Tom advises.
“He's...”
“An arsehole.” But Tom loves his older brother. He can't believe he's here, and John as well. It's going to be the best Christmas ever. “He likes you.”
“How can you tell?”
“He only takes the piss out of people he likes.”
“Oh.” John's eyebrows furrow, adorably. Tom kisses the spot between them. He lets a hand slip beneath John's jumper, tracing the muscles of his abdomen and his chest. That was a very pleasant surprise. Tom knew John was kind, and sweet, and as handsome as fuck from the moment they met. He hadn't known John was built until the first time they had sex. Which had happened to be John’s first time.
John presses closer as they kiss again, exploring Tom's mouth as he slides his own hands up the back of Tom's hoodie. Tom pauses just long enough to pull it off, tossing it aside. The fire pops. John startles a little, and Tom laughs fondly.
“He's right though,” Tom admits. “About the sofa.”
“Oh. I, I, I...”
“So I'd better swallow.”
“Tom!”
Tom wishes he had a bearskin rug. John deserves decadence like that. Instead, Tom kneels on the beige Berber carpet, urging John to slide his hips forward. Gratifyingly, his cords are tented already. Tom reaches for his belt, and John lets out a groan that goes straight to Tom's own cock.
“Tom,” he repeats. John unzips him. The fire is hot at his back, warming him. The lights on the Christmas tree cast a festive glow on John's cock. “Tom,” he moans.
“Yes.”
Again, “Tom. Tom, stay with me.”
“Always,” Tom promises. He shivers as he takes John's cock into his mouth. And shivers, and shivers, and shivers.
“Tom!”
First, he notices the smell. Fire. Real fire, burning wood, not like the odourless gas fire at his parents' house. The cold is next. He's lying on his back, wearing a coat that doesn't feel like his own. It's big and bulky, but still, the cold permeates, making him shake.
The dark is the last thing. He opens his eyes to see nothing but black.
“Tom.” The voice says again. He doesn't know it. “Are you awake? Thank Christ.” Whoever it is sounds genuinely relieved. A pinprick of light pops into Tom's field of vision, cutting through the darkness. There's a man beside him, standing over him, holding up the overbright light of a mobile phone. He's got blue eyes, and a large gash on his forehead. Tom doesn't know him. There's a polar bear pin on his jacket. That, Tom recognizes. He can't think why.
“Where am I?” Tom's voice is weaker than he expected. He clears his throat. “Where...” It doesn't help.
He's lying on a bench of some kind, an uncomfortable sofa or chairs, but he's not inside a building. It's far too cold for that.
The man sighs. He looks tired, that's obvious even in the thin light. Tom feels tired, too. Maybe he should go back to sleep.
“You need to stay awake,” the man says, as if reading Tom's thoughts. “ What do you need? What can I get for you?”
Then, Tom remembers. Everything comes back in a flood, the dam broken by those few words. Tom wishes it hadn't been.
***
“What can I get for you?” The flight attendant smiled at Tom from behind his drinks cart. He was good-looking, Tom noticed, in his navy blue suit and red tie. His name tag read “Thomas”, and there was a pin on his lapel shaped like a little polar bear.
“Coke, please,” Tom said. He glanced beside him, to where John slept against the airplane window. “And a water for him.” He would want something when he woke up.
Thomas shovelled a scoop of ice into a little plastic cup and poured half a tin of Coke on top. He passed it over, carefully avoiding the man on Tom's other side, then gave him John's cup of water and two packets of biscuits.
“And for you, sir?” Thomas turned his attention to the other man in their row, the one in the aisle seat. He was dark-haired, with thicker sideburns than Tom had seen on anyone for a long time. He’d spent most of the time watching what seemed like a home improvement show on his tablet.
“I'll have a gin and tonic.”
“Certainly, sir.” Thomas poured the drink as Tom fought to open his biscuits. Thomas gave the other man his cup, followed it up with a quick kiss to the man's forehead, and continued down the aisle.
Tom didn't say anything. Growing up in a big family, he'd become an expert at minding his own business. Still, the man beside him said, “That's, ah, that's my, um, my husband.”
“Ah.” Tom nodded.
“We're going on our honeymoon.”
“Congratulations.” Tom didn't really want to continue the conversation, but he said, “In Toronto?”
“We're flying on from there. To Nunavut.”
“So are we.” It was a longstanding dream of John's to see the northern lights. They'd talked about going to Finland or Sweden, but he wanted to do it in northern Canada. It was a big trip, and an expensive one, but the look on John's face when Tom agreed to it made it all worthwhile.
Almost. There was an engagement ring burning a hole in the pocket of Tom's carry-on bag. That would make it extra worthwhile, but he wasn't sure about it. Rather, he wasn't sure how John would feel about it.
Tom wasn't sure what else to say, so he put his earbuds back in and picked up his phone.
Tom hadn't flown that much. Of the two of them, John was the more experienced traveller. He didn't seem nervous when the plane started to shake. Nobody did. Thomas' cheerful voice came over the intercom informing them Captain Crozier had turned on the seatbelt light, and asked them to return to their seats. John, who had been in line for the toilet, came back grumbling, but he didn't appear worried. Obediently, he buckled his seatbelt, a moment before the plane dropped what felt like a hundred feet in one go.
That was when John started to look a little nervous.
As a concerned murmur ran through the crowd, the man on Tom's other side unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up.
“Thomas!”
“You should probably sit down,” John advised.
“He's married to one of the flight attendants,” Tom explained. Thomas had likely been standing up. He might have been hurt by the sudden drop. Tom wouldn't have been that inclined to sit down if John was in that position.
“Still,” John insisted, “you should...”
Another drop, although this one was less severe. Someone screamed, then someone else. More than a few began to cry. The man beside Tom stumbled, and sat down again.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Thomas' voice returned on the intercom, as smooth as before. So he's okay, Tom thought. He was glad of that. It would suck to be injured on your honeymoon. “Please stay in your seats. We'll be making an emergency landing in Gander.”
The murmuring didn't abate. John reached for Tom's hand, and squeezed. “That's not so bad.” John’s voice was calm, reassuring. Steady. “We saw 'Come From Away', right?”
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Into The Northern Forest
Chapter One: Näcken and Lyktgubben
———————————————————————
Dagmar had been dead for about a month when he walked into a forest in Dalarna, Sweden.
He didn't really know what he was planning on doing in the forest but it wasn't like he had any reason to do anything anymore.
People who could see him from now on would forever fear him. No human would ever talk to him again. He was stuck on earth and he would forever be known as a bad omen.
A little better... a little worse... I'd rather go to hell than walk around here for eternity! He thought, making his way through the thick forest.
A sudden sound got him to stop dead in his tracks.
Someone was playing the violin.
Näcken.
-
Remus would lie if he said he wasn't confused as the light just passed. He'd been here for eternity and never had a human passed him as he played.
He was looking in the direction the light had disappeared and put down his violin as someone started talking behind him.
"You know..." the voice said, making him turn around "that only works on living people"
A vaguely familiar sight caught his eye. A Will o' wisp.
"Lyktgubbe?" He asked shortly, earning a slight nod. "I haven't met one in ages..."
"Hah, you're implying that they left... where would one even go..." the will o' wisp said, looking down a little.
"Well she was going to Norway" he said with a humorous but truthful tone.
"She probably had a reason to go there"
"She was Norwegian so yeah... I'm Remus by the way" the water spirit said, offering a hand.
"Dagmar" the other said, shaking his hand. "I... didn't know Näcken had his own name"
"I don't think most of us do... I just got tired of having no sense of identity" he admitted, carefully running his fingers over his violin.
After a moment of silence the water spirit jumped a little. "Well! How is it being stuck here forever so far?"
"Oh, just lovely" Dagmar said sarcastically. "So far exactly two humans have seen me and they've been terrified!... fun being a bad omen" he continued.
"Ha! Try being doomed to murder people! They can't even stop themselves"
"Why don't you stop then?" He said, smirking slightly.
"Firstly, all I have to do is playing the violin!" He exclaimed, sounding almost offended before shifting into a mischievous grin. "Secondly... who said I didn't enjoy it?" He continued with a wink. At this Dagmar had to hold back a laugh.
"I see why someone didn't go to heaven" he said teasingly, now successfully making the will o' wisp laugh.
"Apparently not bad enough for hell though" he said jokingly.
"You don't seem like a bad person... you wouldn't fit in down there" he said, voice genuine, the teasing all gone.
Dagmar was just gonna say something as the water spirit snapped his fingers and clothes appeared on his body and put his hair into a ponytail. He took his violin, stood up and jumped over to the river from his rock.
"I didn't know Näcken had clothes"
"Oh, we do! We just prefer not to wear them" he said mischievously, earning a chuckle. "How long have you been dead?"
"About a month and I'm already sick of this"
The water spirit smiled sympathetically. "I can't leave the forest or even go further than a couple of dozen metres from the river but I can show you down the river if you'd like" he said.
"That would be nice... thanks"
"Hey, my pleasure! I don't mind company! Besides it gives me someone to talk with who's not a fairy" he said with a laugh as they started walking down the river.
ART BY juicey.butthole on Ig
(Yes, that's Deceit)
#sanders sides#sanderssides#sanders sides fanfiction#sanders sides fic#mythical beings#into the northern forest#thomas sanders#thomassanders#remus sanders#deceit sanders
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