selfshipwritingandstuff

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

Ambrose had always been a typical small town, the kind of small town one would be able to find anywhere in America. And that meant that its residents collectively put great value into two things: Gossip, and pretending that there was nothing to gossip about, should a curious outsider ever ask about it. So while Trudy Sinclair's rather nasty attitude towards one of her sons was definitely spoken about whenever her back was turned, nobody seemed to deem it their business when the sounds of muffled screaming and crying echoed from the Sinclair-house. 

That was until a new family moved into town. A completely normal family of three; a dedicated homemaker for a mother, a stable and down-to-earth businessman for a father, though he never quite divulged what kind of business he was doing, and their young daughter, age five at the time. While the parents quickly figured out that it was better to pay no attention to the disconcerting voices from their neighbor's home, the daughter wasn't quite as easily convinced.

Soon, whenever the screaming started, it only took a few minutes for a small, raven-haired figure to run up to Trudy's house and smack her hand against the doorbell. Trudy would come out, face still bright red with rage, only to be faced with two big, blue eyes and an innocent smile that could have made a heart of steel melt. Like all the other adults, Trudy did not see the strained edge in the girl's smile. 

And in a soft, polite voice, the little lady would say:"I'm so sorry for bothering you, Mrs. Sinclair. I just wanted to ask if Bo and Vincent can come out to play?"

And Trudy would take a moment to compose herself before also putting on a bright, but very obviously fake smile. "Why, of course, dearie. Let me get them real quick."

No matter how much Trudy Sinclair enjoyed screaming at Bo, she enjoyed having him out of the house and be someone else's problem for a bit even more. So there was no chance of her ever denying the visitor's request. 

Just a few seconds later, Bo and Vincent would emerge from behind their mother, Bo with his face still red from screaming, and Vincent as calm as can be, his thoughts and feelings hidden behind his wax mask.

However, the nature of her father's work made long lasting friendships nigh impossible. Barely three years after she moved to Ambrose, she moved away again, and the Sinclair twins stood by the street, watching their friend's face in the car's rear window slowly disappear from sight.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

A Wasteland Encounter

A few weeks after her little misadventure in the ruin, Alyssa was back at work. This time, Fang had asked her to go out into the desert south of town to gather some herbs for his medicine. And Alyssa being the pushover she was, had agreed.

It was not like this was a fool's errand, after all. It was important to have an adequate supply of medicine, and the desert's few native medicinal plants, hardy as they were, had thus far refused all attempts at cultivating them closer to town.

So Alyssa had packed everything she needed for a few hour long trip through the desert, including her weapons and some first aid supplies, so there would be no repeat of the Logan incident, and went on her way.

The sun felt particularly scorching that day. Whenever Alyssa thought that she had gotten used to Sandrock's harsh climate, the desert seemed to take it as a challenge. Her feet soon felt like they were slowly cooking in her boots, and the heat made her feel weak and dizzy. Despite having packed enough water, she didn't want to drink quite yet; she wanted what she had to last for as long as possible, just in case something happened.

After an hour of steady marching, she found a big boulder that seemed like a good spot to take a break, and as luck would have it, the herbs she was looking for were growing around it as well. She gratefully sat down in the shade and finally pulled the waterskin from her bag.

She only drank a few short sips, but it already soothed her dry throat. And while she was drinking and resting, she heard someone approach. Her gaze wandered to the side and her heart sank.

Was this some kind of prank the universe was playing on her? Because Alyssa sure felt like some kind of higher power was having a good chuckle at her expense.

Because the person who was now sitting down next to her was none other than Logan.

He paid little attention to her while he got out his own waterskin and drank. The splash she heard from inside was barely audible, indicating that it was almost empty. He drained it with a single gulp, then looked at it dejectedly.

Alyssa looked at the waterskin in her hands, then over to Logan. Then she held it up to him.

His blue eyes met hers. Without a word, he took the offered water. His hands brushed against hers in the process, making her heart jump.

He drank, and once he had enough, he finally spoke:"I didn't think we would see each other again that soon. How is your ankle?"

"It's all healed up now, thanks to your expert care."

"It was the least I could do. The injury was my fault after all. What are you doing out here?"

"Just a small errand for Fang."

Awkward silence. Alyssa felt like she needed to say something, so she turned around.

"I just realized that I never introduced myself. My name is-"

He quickly placed his hand on her mouth.

"Don't. It's better if I don't know your name. Not yet, anyway. If they learn that you and I are on a first name basis, they will think that you are on my side."

She wrapped her hands around his and pulled it from her face. "...Am I not?"

His fingers closed around hers. "...if you are, nobody can know."

"Yes, I figured. But I'm not the only one, you know. Elsie insists that you are innocent. Burgess may not believe in your innocence, but constantly urges the people to not judge you too harshly and leave the door open for reconciliation. You have more allies than you may think."

He was quiet for a long moment. "...and you?"

"I already told you my stance."

"It's weird how you insist that I am innocent despite not knowing me. Maybe I am just manipulating you. Have you ever thought about that?"

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. "Maybe. But I decided that it is worth the risk."

He chuckled and handed the waterskin back to her, but she shook her head and gestured for him to keep it. She still had a second one in her bag and could easily make another one.

Logan smiled at her gratefully. "Take care, Sunset. Who knows. Maybe we will run into each other again soon." Then he mounted his horse and left.

When someone knocked on her bedroom window that night, Alyssa first thought that she was dreaming.

When she saw Logan on the other side, she was pretty sure that she was.

Like in a trance, she opened the window. "...Logan?"

"Hey. Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to give this back." He handed her the waterskin she had given him. There now was a bundle of desert orchids tied to the carrying loop.

"Oh… thanks." What a weird dream. "Isn't it dangerous for you to be so close to town?"

"It is, so I can't stay for long, as much as I would like to. Goodbye, Sunset." Without another word, he dashed off into the night.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

A Ruin Encounter

To say that Sandrock had been built atop what amounted to an anthill would have been an understatement. There was always a risk of taking a wrong step and suddenly plummeting into places that hadn‘t seen a human in close to four centuries.

But why did that have to happen to her, and today of all days?

Alyssa raised her head, aggressively wiping at her eyes to clear them from the debris but ironically only rubbing more sand into them in the process.

All she had wanted to do was to find some ore to repair the watertower with. Something she had done a million times over. But today, the ground had decided to give way and send her to this place. It wasn‘t the first time, mind, but this time she didn‘t have the luck of running into Qi. She was all alone, in completely unknown territory.

At least she was unhurt, as far as she could tell, as the sand that had fallen with her had cushioned her fall. Once her sight was somewhat clear she stretched her arms and legs, bent the joints, and all of that worked almost entirely pain-free.

There was only one way to go. The hole she had fallen through was too high up to climb, so she could only follow the corridor ahead, dark except for flickering neon lights that had been dutifully brightening the abandoned ruins underneath Sandrock for centuries.

No two steps seemed to sound the same in this place, the ground alternating between dirt and metal flooring. At least this place seemed to be free from feral robots. An abandoned ruin, not a hazardous one. Which was good because she had left her twin daggers at home to make space in her bag, in a sudden moment of overconfidence that surely nothing unsuspected would happen today.

Still, she sharpened her senses, paying attention to every sound she heard. Just because she hadn‘t encountered any of the old world‘s inventions yet didn‘t mean there were none.

Unfortunately, she soon found herself at a dead end; the floor of the hallway ahead had also collapsed, and the hole it left was too big to jump across. There was a room below, probably an office judging by the remains of the furniture, but with no sand to soften the impact this time. Alyssa sighed to herself. She needed to go up, not down, if she wanted to leave this place.

She wondered when the people in town would start searching for her, if at all. Mi-an and Elsie would absolutely insist on searching for her. Justice and Unsuur, too, though less out of concern and more out of obligation.

Maybe I should have stayed where I was, she thought. I should go back and wait for help to arrive.

She took a step back, only to bump against something very hard and yet warm, covered in rough fabric and leather… She twirled around with a yelp and lost her balance, sending her flying down the cave-in.

She hit the floor below in a groaning heap. Her left ankle was aching; she had twisted it while trying to keep her balance.

Something dropped down from the higher level and hit the ground a few feet from her with a heavy thud.

The flickering lights of the tunnels only ever lit up his figure for a split second, but she recognized the clothes and the horned hat. He knelt down beside her, his icy blue eyes cloaked in shadow.

She did not know what to say. Not that she could talk right now. She was too busy trying to breathe through the pain in her foot.

She was all alone, injured, and stuck down here with a wanted, possibly violent criminal.

But Logan did not seem hostile to her at all. He just stared at her before commenting:„Oh. You‘re the new builder. I saw you the other day when...“

„When the watertower got blown up“, she finished his sentence. „Yeah. I saw you too.“

The corners of his mouth twitched, and in the twilight of the ruins it was hard to tell if he meant to smile or frown. „You‘re a lot less scared than I expected.“

„And you‘re a lot less scary“, she countered.

He looked down on her. „Are you okay?“

„My foot hurts.“

„Damn. I‘m sorry. Mind if I take a look?“

This was crazy. Completely and utterly crazy. Did she get knocked out and was dreaming all of this? „I... uh... go ahead.“

He carefully opened up her boot and pulled it off her foot, revealing her ankle, now swollen and blue-ish purple.

„Agh… hold on… let me see if I can find anything we can use as a splint for you.“ He got up, placing her foot on a nearby bit of concrete to keep it elevated, and began rummaging through the debris.

Alyssa watched him, so fascinated that she almost forgot the pain she was in. He was so… kind.

When he finally returned, he held a bandage, old foam padding he had ripped out of the office chairs, and some strips of fabric ripped from the upholstery.

„There we go. The bandages probably aren‘t as sterile as they are supposed to be anymore, but I don‘t think that will be an issue. There is no open wound after all.“ He began wrapping up her foot to stabilize it.

„You‘re good at this“, she commented while he worked.

„I mean… I kind of have to be. It‘s not like I can just go to a clinic when I am injured. Though I gotta admit that Haru is much better at this than I am.“ Now he wrapped the foam padding around her foot, and secured it with the fabric strips. „There we go. It‘s not perfect, but it should protect your ankle well enough until we can get out of here.“

„Do you know the way out?“, she asked hopefully.

„I do, actually. I come here a lot. These ruins are connected to the ones where...“ He paused and his eyes darkened. „...look, when your friends find you, it would probably be best not to tell them that you were here.“

„I… okay.“

He nodded. „Good. You probably shouldn‘t walk on that foot, even with the splint.“ He hesitated. „Is it okay if I carry you?“

„Do I even have a choice?“, she asked dryly.

His snort was enough of an answer. He leaned forward and placed one arm around her back and one under her legs to lift her up bridal style, but then he froze, like he noticed how close their faces came to each other in the process. He stared into her eyes for what felt like an eternity and a split second at the same time.

Logan swallowed heavily, as if to gather himself, before asking:„Ready?“

„...Ready.“

The jerking motion when he lifted her up made her foot sting, but that was quickly forgotten. She held onto his shoulders and tried to look at anything but the man carrying her. He was warm, and strong and she would be lying if being carried like that by a mysterious, handsome outlaw didn‘t have a certain appeal.

Actually this was ticking an almost scary amount of the boxes of her most intimate fantasies and she was afraid that she might get ahead of herself. Real life wasn‘t a romance novel, after all.

What Logan said held true; it seemed like an eternity but soon they approached an old entrance that let some flaming orange sunbeams through its glass doors. Once outside, he placed her on a nearby rock, in the shade of the ruin‘s entrance. „I‘ll find a way to lead the people in town to you. Just wait here.“ Then he turned to walk away, but she instinctively grabbed his hand with both of hers.

„Logan… wait.“

He half turned his head to her. „I‘m not going to turn myself in, if that‘s what you want to ask of me.“

„No! No, that‘s… that‘s not it.“ She took in how warm and rough his hand was. „...I… I don‘t believe that you are the criminal they say you are.“

He squeezed her hands, and smiled. „Thank you.“ And then he left, whistling for his horse while running towards town.

She did not know how long she sat there, but it couldn‘t have been too long. Still she found herself repeating the events of the day in her mind, over and over again.

There was no way this man was such a hardened criminal. No way.

Suddenly, she found Logan gallopping past her at top speed, pursued by Justice. So that was his plan.

She leaned over and yelled:„Justice! Help!“

Justice stopped, giving the fast retreating Logan a quick glance before coming over to her. „Alyssa?“

„Oh Justice, I‘m so glad you‘re here. I got injured while mining and don‘t think I could make it home on my own…“

„Dammit, I was so close to catching Logan, too… but it can‘t be helped. I can‘t just leave an injured woman behind like that. Can you stand? Come, I‘ll help you onto my horse and take you to Dr. Fang.“

The sprained ankle unfortunately put Alyssa out of commission for a while, which meant that she had way too much time for her thoughts to keep going in circles. She could not get Logan out of her head. The thoughts of him didn‘t even let her sleep. The thought of his strong arms, warm skin underneath rough fabric, icy blue eyes, the bandana billowing from his breath underneath...

This was bad. Really bad. Why, of all people, did she have to develop this childish crush on Logan?

She looked out of the window into the clear, full moon night and bit her lip. What would happen if they ever caught him?

And more importantly… whatever they wanted to do to him if they did… would she let them?

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

The Fate that binds us

Chapter 2

Artemis and Diana

The chicks kept me quite busy for the next few days, and whenever I wasn't tending to them, I was taking care of my duties as a member of the Kid pirates. Things like helping our handymen with repairs, or washing dishes, or being on the lookout for any unknown ships approaching the island. Hawkins occasionally visited to help me with the birds; I had never asked and he had never offered, he just showed up and I never sent him away. Soon the crows perked up whenever the door opened during feeding time, and one of them even seemed to prefer being fed by him. 

„Do you think I should maybe try to take them outside for a bit?", I asked one day, about a week after I took the crows in. They had grown much stronger feathers by now, and were already exploring my room with all of the vigor of a small child. Bigger, but not big enough to leave the nest yet.

„They'd probably love that", Hawkins replied in his usual calm voice.

„But I'd be afraid to lose sight of them."

„Young crows usually stay close to their parents, so I don't think that will be a problem." He held out his hand, and 'his' crow eagerly sat down in his open palm. I did the same with my crow, and followed him outside.

It was a lovely day, the sun was bright and a gentle breeze blew through the leaves of the trees. Hawkins and I picked out a nice clearing and carefully put the little ones down.

„Have you thought about naming them yet?", Hawkins suddenly asked.

„Have you?", I replied, slightly taken aback.

He gave 'his' crow a fond look. „...Artemis."

Artemis? It was somehow fitting for him to give her a name like that. I wanted the siblings to match, so I nodded and said: „Then my crow will be Diana." Then I paused. „Hey Hawkins, how can you even be sure that they're female?"

„I'm not. And I don't really think they would care. Insisting on matching names to genders is a very human thing, after all."

„I suppose so." I watched the newly named Artemis and Diana bounce around the clearing, chasing bugs and playing with sticks and pebbles and making their first attempts at flapping their wings. Seeing them happy, healthy and carefree like that filled me with a deep peace, and for a moment I wondered if this is how mothers felt while watching their children play.

Artemis hopped up to Hawkins, who was sitting on a treestump and shuffling his cards.

He lifted her up, set her down on his knee and held the deck up to her beak. „Pick three."

I was gonna ask him if he really expected her to know what he was talking about, but before I could even open my mouth, Artemis ran her beak across the sides of the cards and pulled three of them out of the stack. Hawkins put them on his straw net to inspect them. „Ah, yes. Very good. Seems like you have a pleasant future ahead of you."

Artemis cawed cheerfully and hopped back down to join her sibling again.

The corners of my mouth tugged upwards. I had never thought that 'adorable' would be a fitting description for Hawkins under any circumstances. And yet… here we were.

Artemis and Diana soon grew tired of playing, and we took them back to my room so they could eat and then rest. We were silent the entire time, until they were full and he turned to leave.

„Hawkins… wait."

He stopped and turned around to me with an expectant look. „Yes?"

I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. „I… I wanted to thank you. For helping me. I don't think that Artemis and Diana would be as lively as they are now if I had to take care of them on my own. So… thank you."

He stood still for a moment, as if pondering my words. Then he replied: „The shadow of death had already fully retreated by the time I decided to help you raise them. You were the one giving them life, not me. Had it been up to me, they would have been left for dead, remember?"

I did not know how to respond to that, and before I could figure out an answer, he was already out the door.

I kind of wished to talk to someone about this whole situation I found myself in. Someone who wasn't Hawkins, of course. I quickly tossed the idea of talking to Kid; he wasn't exactly the empathetic type and probably wouldn't understand what my problem was. Hell, I barely understood what my problem was.

Killer, maybe? He was a lot smarter and more mature than Kid, but he also would only have told me to not get too friendly with Hawkins.

Apart from that, I wasn't particularly close to any of my crewmates. Not close enough to have a heart-to-heart, anyway. Kid, Killer and I used to be incredibly close as children. But the farther we ventured into the New World the more I felt like they had simply outgrown me. Which was sad, but nonetheless normal. People mature, and they grow, and one day they might wake up and not recognize each other anymore.

I let out a deep, exasperated sigh, before feeling something tug on my sleeve. I found Diana standing on the table, trying to get my attention. I ran the tips of my fingers across her soft, feathered head. „Oh dear. What did we get ourselves into?“, I asked her.

She gave no answer but a quiet caw.

I could hardly sleep during that night. Hawkins was so confusing to be around, with these occasional glimpses of genuine gentleness shining through the stoicism. Add to that the fact that he had approached me seemingly without reason. 

I spent a few hours tossing and turning before deciding that I just couldn't sleep. Maybe a short walk would help me find some rest.

Pleasantly cool air filled my lungs as I ventured out into the night with nothing but a small lantern to help me not get lost.

Following the forest path, I soon found myself en route to the harbor, where the other two crews were resting aboard their ships. I hadn't seen either of the two vessels up close before; I simply hadn't cared about them.

Now that I had them in front of me, it was pretty easy to tell which ship belonged to which crew. Apoo's ship was bright and fairly friendly looking, with bright pink sails and a huge horn as the figurehead.

Hawkins' ship on the other hand had a foreboding aura about it, with its black sails and voodoo-doll figurehead. Seemed like Hawkins and his crew were really dedicated to their aesthetic.

Maybe I had gotten a bit too close, because soon, a small light from a lantern similar to mine lit up on Hawkins' ship and a hooded figure leaned over the rail.

„Who goes there?!"

I couldn't even answer, because almost immediately, Hawkins appeared next to the figure. 

„Cora, is that you? I knew you would visit soon." He turned to the man next to him. "Let her board."

„But Captain-"

„Fate led her here tonight. She means no harm to us." 

„Aye aye, Captain."

The ship was deathly quiet, the dark wood and sails only making the surrounding night feel deeper. 

„Welcome aboard the Grudge Dorf", Hawkins said.

„Thank you", I replied breathlessly. "Sorry to bother you this late. I was actually just out on a walk when your crewmate spotted me."

„As I already said, it was fate that you would end up here tonight. The cards foretold it." He took my hand. „Come. I have a bottle of wine in my cabin, perfect for this occasion."

I found myself compelled to follow him, even though this was obviously a bad idea.

Hawkins' cabin was stuffed full of all kinds of books on divination and magical looking items. The heavy scent of incense was drifting through the air, making me already feel light-headed.

He led me over to a small table with two chairs, where I sat down and watched him get out the wine and two glasses.

Why did this all feel so perfectly orchestrated? 

The red liquid splashed into the glasses, looking eerily blood like in the dim light of the oil lamps. I tried my best not to let the glass slip through my shaking fingers when Hawkins passed it over to me. His hand briefly brushed against mine in the process.

„To the fate that binds us", he said and raised his glass in a toast.

I could only stammer out an awkward "Ch…cheers" in response. The first sip of wine burned my throat; I wasn't used to drinking anything stronger than beer, and I never drank more than one, something that was the source of a lot of teasing from Kid. I just hoped the wine wouldn't get to my head. 

„Your ship is… lovely." My pathetic attempt at smalltalk made the barest hint of a smirk appear on Hawkins' face.

„It's a fine ship, indeed." 

He really didn't make this any easier for me. In fact, he didn't seem bothered by the painful awkwardness at all.

I looked around, desperately trying to find something to talk about. Finally my eyes landed on the bookshelf „So… you practice other types of divination, too? Not just with your cards?“

„The cards are my preferred method, but yes, I also know others. Pendulums, numerology, hand reading….

„And that‘s how you knew I would be here tonight?“, I asked.

„Yes. A meeting in the middle of the night...“ He closed his eyes, then opened them again.

Something about his red eyes meeting mine ignited something in me. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Or the incense. I was so out of it that I began to imagine silly things like him just lifting me onto this table and having his way with me right there.

Now I definitely knew that the alcohol was getting to my head. I could not let him know that this was going through my mind, under any circumstances.

„I… I should probably…“ I got up but found myself swaying. Hawkins quickly got up to hold me steady and before I knew it I was leaning against his chest, just trying to somehow stay on my feet and not embarrass myself further.

His hand closed against my jaw and lifted my head. Once again I caught a brief glimpse of his hypnotic red eyes before his lips were pressed onto mine. I gasped against the kiss, completely overwhelmed with what was happening. My attempts at steadying myself by holding onto his shoulders only caused his coat to slip down.

Was this really happening or had the alcohol caused my fantasies to become so intense that they were indistiguishable from reality?

No, this couldn‘t be in my head. His mouth was hot against mine, his arms pressed me against his strong body. It was true, and it was amazing. Once I finally found my footing I buried one hand in his hair to pull him in even closer.

With one fluid motion he twirled me around and dropped me onto his bed, and before I could even react, he was on top of me again, kissing me.

I shoved his coat off his shoulders the final bit of the way and he shrugged out of it and tossed it onto a nearby chair. He looked at me for a bit, eyes softening at the sight of me, then he let his fingers slip under the hem of my shirt and coaxed me into sitting up a little so he could pull it over my head. Once that was done, his lips were on my neck, kissing the sensitive skin.

Now I was grinding against him. I was moaning and gasping under his gentle touches.

„Hawkins… p… please...“

He kissed my lips again. „Shh… Easy, love. There‘s no need to rush.“

But while he spoke, he opened up my pants and pulled them down my legs until I was fully bare before him. Then he placed my legs around his hips, so I was grinding against his still clothed crotch.

His hand wandered from my breast down to my stomach, further down so the tip of his thumb grazed against my clit, making me arch my back and let out a loud moan.

„You‘re so sensitive. Have you never been touched like this before?“

„N… n… never...“

„Then let me make sure that you remember the first time fondly. Though I fear that I also cannot wait much longer...“ He let his thumb circle around the bundle of nerves, always just close enough to feel the barest hint of a touch, but never actually enough.

„Please...“ I felt so dirty, begging like that. But I needed him so desperately, I felt like the unsatisfied lust was tearing me apart.

Finally, he loosened his belt and dropped his pants. And there he was, proud, erect and ready to fulfill my wish.

He crawled onto the bed with me, both of us now naked as the day we were born, and he pulled me in. A short, sharp pain rushed through me and we were one. He kissed me once more, and began moving, each retreat was followed by a wave of pleasure when he thrust back in. I dug my nails into his back, not enough to actually injure him but just enough to leave some marks.

He was groaning and gasping, and seeing him so lustful only heightened my arousal. We were a constant ebb and flow of movement, our bodies embracing like they were made for each other, dancing entwined at the edge of paradise.

I came first, a sea of stars exploding in front of my eyes. Shortly after that, I felt the heat of him pumping his seed into me. The thought that I might get pregnant didn‘t even occur to me. I was just tired, and satisfied down to my very core.

He came to rest next to me, pulling the duvet over both of us. „Sleep now, my love.“

His arms were still around me, skin pressed against skin, and with that, I finally dozed off.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

In between worlds Chapter 2

The next morning, Sultana awoke from the sound of her door chatting with someone on the other side. She heard an undoubtedly male voice say something, and the door cheerfully replied:„Oh yes, of course, I will let her know as soon as she wakes up!~“

The visitor left, and Sultana got up, brushed her hair and got dressed. Remembering Katakuri‘s advice from the previous day, she chose a more casual dress that didn‘t require a corset, and allowed for a lot more movement than most of her wardrobe.

Upon leaving her room, she turned around and greeted the door with a friendly „Good Morning!“

„Good morning, Your Highness“, it replied politely. „A few of the dear lords were already here to invite you to spend time with them. Lord Cracker asked if you would like to join him on a walk through the Forest of Illusions this morning. Before dinner, Lord Perospero would like to give you a tour of the castle grounds. And Lord Katakuri wishes for you to join him on a stroll through town in the evening.“

„Ah, I see. I will give them my answers during breakfast, then.“

„As you wish, Your Highness.“

Breakfast was almost the same as the tea pearty. With the exception of the members of the family that were already married or too young for marriage and therefore not involved with her visit, the whole family was gathered around the massive table and enjoyed their food.

Perospero was the first person to actually talk to Sultana:„The homie guarding your room relayed my request to you, I trust?“

„Yes, Lord Perospero, and I would gladly have you show me the area.“

He leaned back. „I am looking forward to it.“

Now the man that had to be Cracker leaned forward. „What about me, Princess?“

„A walk through the forest after breakfast sounds delightful, so yes, I also accept your invitation.“ She looked up at Katakuri:„As for your invitation, Lord Katakuri, I would also love to go on a walk with you.“

Katakuri barely reacted to that; only giving her the barest hint of a nod, which confused her.

If he doesn‘t really care, she thought, then why bother inviting me?

She bit her tongue to stop herself from pointing out his rudeness. Now was not the time to pick a fight, especially with him. If the adoring looks the other siblings gave him were any indication, disrespecting Katakuri would not end well for her.

For the remainder of the meal, she chatted with Big Mom and Perospero, who seemed to be the only people actually interested in talking to her. She tried to engage Daifuku Oven and Katakuri in their conversation, sine they were the only ones sitting close enough for her to talk to without yelling, but all she got were a bunch of one word answers, so she gave up after a while.

After breakfast, Cracker approached her.

„Ready to go, Your Highness?“

„Certainly, Your Lordship“, Sultana replied politely, which made Cracker chuckle.

She got nervous. „Have I done something funny, Lord Cracker?“

„Nah, it‘s just… You sound so much older than you are. Like an old woman, despite being.. what, twenty years old?“

„Actually, my 30th birthday will be in a few months.“

„Woah, no way. You look much younger than that!“

Sultana chuckled. „Such is the lot of the people of Evergreen Island. We seem to be forever young until the day when we are suddenly old.“

While they talked, they calmly walked towards the forest.

Since her usual manner of speaking seemed so strange to everyone around her, Sultana tried to emulate Cracker‘s casual tone when she asked:„So why is this called the Forest of Illusions anyway?“

„You‘ll see.“ Cracker stopped and offered her his hand. „Here, hold onto me so you won‘t get lost.“

For a moment, Sultana looked at the hand like she feared it would suddenly grow teeth. On Evergreen Island, physical contact, no matter how casual or platonic, between unmarried people who were not related to each other was frowned upon.

„Uh….“

„Of course, if you‘re not comfortable with that, I could also put a leash on you to keep you from getting lost.“ His tone made it perfectly clear that he was joking, but Sultana still felt her face heat up with embarrassment.

„Cracker, behave yourself. Don‘t you see that you are making the Princess uncomfortable?“ Katakuri, who had appearantly followed them, shot his brother a strict look. „The country she is from is a very traditional one, so it is normal for her to avoid physical contact like that.“

Part of Sultana was relieved, another slightly irritated why in the name of all that was holy did this man seem to protect her one moment and then completely ignore her the next?

Cracker was quiet for a moment, just looking at his brother a little annoyed. „Good to know, Katakuri. I will keep that in mind. Well then, Princess, shall we be off?“

Amusingly, he now tried to copy Sultana‘s polite way of speaking, causing her to giggle.

„Now that sounds weird coming from you.“

The Forest of Illusions was as peaceful as any forest Sultana knew, but the scents of plants and water and soil was replaced with a sugary sweet smell. The sound of rustling leaves filled the air, and it almost sounded like the trees were whispering to each other. After a while, she realized that the rustling was indeed mixed with whispering.

„Lor- I mean, Cracker? Am I going insane, or are the trees… talking?“

„What, you‘ve seen talking doors on this island, but talking trees make you question your sanity? Hold on.“ He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted:„Attention all homies! The woman next to me is Princess Sultana of Evergreen. Come here and greet her properly!“

The trees started moving, eyes, noses and mouths appearing on their trunks, and they crowded around them.

Cracker grinned. „The tree homies are the secret of this forest.“

„Oh I see! So when an intruder enters the forest, the homies change position so they lose their way. Fascinating.“

„That‘s why I wanted you to hold onto me. To make absolutely sure that the homies don‘t mistake you for an intruder. I occasionally lure those into the forest. Helps me dispose of them without getting my hands dirty.“

„I see“, Sultana replied still awed at the sight of the trees.

„I‘m sorry, by the way, for earlier. Didn‘t mean to scare you. If I ever do something you don‘t like again, lemme know.“

Sultana smiled, feeling a lot more at ease now. „Thank you for understanding.“

„Hey even if I don‘t end up marrying you, you‘ll still be my sister-in-law. You‘ll be family either way. And I don‘t want to make that harder for you than it needs to be.“

They continued on their path until Cracker spoke once again:„Oh and another thing. We might run into my sister Brûlée on our walk; she‘s the guardian of this forest and commands the tree-homies.“

„Ah, I remember her from the teaparty. The woman with the scar on her face, right?“

„Yyyeah… but you better not mention that in her presence. Or ask her about it. In fact, pretend the scar doesn‘t exist when talking to her.“

„Of course, anything else would be rude.“

After a few more minutes of walking and smalltalk, the shadow of a tall, thin woman emerged from inbetween the trees. Brûlée stepped onto the path and turned to Cracker and Sultana with a wide grin that barely hid the contempt in her eyes. „Brother Cracker, so nice to see you.“ Her grin faded a little as she looked at Sultana. „Princess.“

„It is nice to see you, Lady Brûlée“, Sultana greeted her and sank into a deep curtsy.

„Keep your fake pleasantries to yourself, girl. Don‘t think that I can‘t see through you! Look at you, walking around my forest like you own the place!“

„Brûlée, that‘s enough“, Cracker cut in but Sultana stopped him.

„If your sister has something to say, I would like to hear it, Lord Cracker.“ Then she turned to Brûlée again. „Lady Brûlée, if there is anything I did to anger you, please tell me, so I can apologize.“

„What you did? You are here, flaunting your pretty face and expecting all of my brothers to worship the ground you walk on! In reality, you are nothing more than the child of a numbskull king who thinks that he can leech off of Mama‘s success by selling off his inbred spawn, as if-“

„Brûlée!“ Cracker interrupted, now visibly agitated. „Enough.“

Brûlée went quiet, still glaring at Sultana, who folded her hands in front of her stomach hoping it would help her trembling under control. „I… I‘m sorry that you feel this way. I cannot say anything about my father‘s intentions; he does not share those with me. But I never intended to seem arrogant.“

Another moment of silence, then… „Get her out of my forest, Cracker. Now.“

Cracker lightly touched Sultana‘s upper arm. „Come, I‘ll escort you back to your room. Dinner should be served soon, and you might need a moment to calm down before that.“

Sultana nodded, still shaking, and followed him.

Katakuri was sitting at the entrance of the castle, reading the newspaper, and only looking up when he heard Cracker and Sultana approach him. „Cracker? What happened? The Princess is white as a sheet.“

Cracker began:„Brûlée-“ but Sultana cut him off.

„It was nothing.“ With that, she walked past Katakuri into the palace.

Cracker still accompanied her to her room. „So sorry. Brûlée is usually not quite this...“

„It‘s fine. I can handle this. See you at the dinnertable.“

She used the few minutes she had to spare before heading to the dining hall to splash some cold water on her face. Normally, Sultana was used to being insulted. Petty insults under the guise of sweettalk, malicious rumours and provocation were common tools for nobility to assert dominance. But nobody had ever been this blunt with her, and without political agenda. These things normally carried a note of „Nothing personal“. But this? What Brûlée had said was about as personal as it could get. Whatever had she done to Brûlée?

Dinner came and went without incident. Afterwards, Perospero sauntered over to her.

„Ready to go, Princess?“

„Of course.“ She followed him across the courtyard, carefully listening to him as he explained the purpose of each part of the palace.

„The kitchens are over at the east wing. We can go there later to grab a bite to eat.“

„Already? But dinner was less than an hour ago!“, Sultana exclaimed.

„You‘re not used to having snacks inbetween meals, are you?“

„Ah, no. My father insists I keep a very strict diet.“

„Well, once you‘re part of the family, that‘ll be the first thing to go. Your husband will make sure of that.“

„It doesn‘t sound like you believe that could be you“, she remarked.

He snorted amusedly. „You‘re adorable, Princess, but not quite my type.“

For a while, they walked in silence, only occasionally interrupted by remarks about the castle from Perospero.

After the openly amicable Cracker, Perospero‘s friendly, but fairly patronising attitude was a bit jarring.

At some point, they passed… a shrine? Made of mochi? Sultana was 100% certain that that hadn‘t been there earlier.

„Lord Perospero? What‘s this?“

Big Mom‘s eldest followed her gaze. „That? That‘s where Katakuri holds his Merienda. He has the power of the Mochi Mochi Fruit and can create these shrines whenever he feels he needs some privacy. You may have noticed that he hardly eats while at the table with us. He prefers eating alone. Don‘t go there; he doesn‘t like being interrupted.“

„Huh.“ That was… intriguing. „Understood.“

The constant social engagements were becoming quite tiresome. At home, Sultana usually insisted on taking an hour to herself every day to decompress so she would always be her very best self while in the company of people. She was so easily overwhelmed, and humans tended to do ill-advised things when overwhelmed and stressed. And thus she politely excused herself once her tour of the castle grounds had concluded and decided to take that hour before her evening walk with Katakuri were to begin. She freshened up once more and then just sat there staring at her reflection, reminding herself to keep her breathing steady. Whole Cake Island itself was… a lot, and Big Mom‘s children were even more. She was not used to dealing with so many eccentric characters, who cared so little about any kind of respectability. It was refreshing, yes, but also required her to act completely differently from how she was used to.

Barely twenty minutes into her alone-time, someone knocked at the door.

„Who is it?“, she mumbled to herself, irritated.

A male voice spoke to the door-homie, and the homie responded:„Oh, Lord Katakuri, you are quite early. I‘m not sure that the Princess is ready-“

She dragged herself over to the door and opened it. Back home, she would have rather jumped off a balcony than let anyone see her the way she looked currently; in a light dressing gown, with her hair undone and barefoot. So she only poked her head out the door.

„If you would be so kind as to give me five minutes so that I can get dressed“, she said.

„That sounds acceptable.“

Neither of them mentioned the social faux pas of him showing up so much too early.

She quickly threw on one of her simplest dresses and a pair of comfortable and sturdy shoes, before leaving the room again. „I‘m ready.“

Katakuri turned away and started walking, appearantly expecting her to just follow him. And she did.

It was vexing, really, how Katakuri seemed to one moment be the one most concerned for her comfort and completely ignore her the next. This walked at first seemed to fall into the latter category. He just marched forward through town, not even having the decency to slow down when he noticed that Sultana had trouble keeping up with him even while in a brisk jog. How was she supposed to get to know him when she was too out of breath to even speak?!

After a while, he stopped, in the middle of a lively town square, and lowered his hand, a hand so big that it could comfortably fit around her whole torso. „Let me carry you if you cannot keep up.“

„Hah… hah… huh?!“

„I realize that the way of life you have known thus far is very different from my family‘s. But you will soon live here, with us. And you will never be happy here if you do not learn our ways. You will only harm yourself in the long run if you insist on seeing yourself as a stranger here.“

She stared at his hand, pondering his words. It was… a lot. But other than Cracker, who was a bit too jovial for her taste, and Perospero, who had obviously been showing off, Katakuri‘s words felt… sincere. Him asking her, in his own way, to trust him. So she slowly approached his hand, letting him grab her and lift her into his arms like a parent would normally carry their toddler.

God he was so much bigger than her… but also warm. And, with a deep blush rising in her cheeks, she admitted to herself that he smelled nice, too. Like freshly baked pastries and sugary icing. The skin of his arm was soft, with firm muscles underneath. She felt safe; Katakuri didn‘t seem to be the type of person to play with her wellbeing.

While they walked, she tried to think of things to ask him. Maybe nothing too personal, they were in public after all.

„So… What‘s your favourite food?“, she suddenly blurted out.

„Donuts“, he replied plainly. „...and yours?“

„Fried cookie-dough balls“, she replied. „I haven‘t been able to eat them in years though. They‘re usually sold at fairs and festivals back home. When my mother was still alive, she and I would sometimes disguise ourselves as commoners and sneak out of the castle just so we could eat them.“

Katakuri didn‘t respond, appearantly realizing that he may have hit a sore spot. They finished their walk in peace, and he carried her all the way back to her room.

He lingered for the briefest of moments, before saying:„...I‘ll see you at the breakfast table tomorrow. Sleep well.“ and walking off.

Later that evening, there was a knock at the door.

„Princess! A delivery for you!~“, sang the door-homie.

„A delivery?“, she mumbled.

She opened the door and there stood a servant, with a plate of fried cookie dough balls in hand.

„With best wishes from Lord Katakuri!“, he declared proudly.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

The Fate that binds us

Chapter 1

Someone who cares

Being a member of the Kid pirates was anything but a peaceful existence, considering the captain's tendency to fly into violent fits of rage. I hadn't thought that Kid would ever even consider an alliance with another crew; his explosive temper usually didn't mesh well with people who weren't already familiar enough with him.

But then, one day, he and Killer suddenly told us that the Kid Pirates were about to enter an alliance with the Hawkins Pirates and the On Air Pirates. A fateful decision, for all of us.

Being a low-level member of the crew meant that I should have little to nothing to do with the allied crews' captains. I was, after all, of little note. A silent shadow in the background. I liked it that way, honestly. So I spent a lot of time alone, hanging out in a small clearing of the forest surrounding the crew's hideout. I loved Kid and the others to bits, but they could be so noisy.

Hawkins moved so quietly that I didn't even notice him until he sat down on a tree stump only a few feet away from me and began mixing his cards. I had only seen the mysteriously handsome captain of the Hawkins Pirates from afar before, so having him so close to me, and being alone with him made me extremely nervous.

„I hope you don't mind,'' Hawkins said calmly. 

„N-not at all," I replied. Common sense told me that I should probably leave. He hadn't exactly told me to leave, but I felt like it would be the right thing to do. Against all reason, however, I remained where I was, watching him shuffle and lay out the cards on a net of straw, probably created by devil fruit powers.

„Say", I began, „...how exactly do you read the future with these cards?"

His red eyes flicked over to me for the briefest of moments before returning to the cards. „Come here, and I'll show you."

I slowly rose from my sitting position before approaching him and looking over his shoulder.

I was vaguely familiar with tarot cards, but had never put too much effort into learning to read them.

Hawkins fingers slid from card to card, patiently explaining to me what each of them meant and how their meanings fit together. Honestly I hadn't expected such a thorough answer. But he was obviously passionate about the topic, so maybe he had just waited for someone to share it with.

He was halfway through the Major Arcana when I heard Kid's voice call for me.

The sun was already setting; I had spent hours listening to Hawkins without even realizing it.

„Oh damn.. I gotta go. Thank you for taking so much time for me… uh… goodbye." I rushed towards Kid's voice, hoping that Hawkins wouldn't notice my burning face.

But there was something I couldn‘t forget. The cards Hawkins had in front of him the moment I left, while teaching me how to do a simple three-card-reading. The Fool, upright. The Devil, reversed. And the Lovers, upright. This meant something important. But at this point, I could not tell what that was.

A few days later, I found myself rushing to my little corner of the hideout, my coat pressed to my chest in a bundle, containing two squirming little bodies.

How many times had I told Kid to be a little more mindful of his surroundings? And how many times did he ignore me?

I briefly looked down to the two little crow chicks in my arms. Their nest had been in a tree that Kid had knocked down while sparring with Killer, in his usual manner resembling a bull released in a china shop. I was just glad that I had found them in time.

I knew very little about crow-raising but if there was any chance of me saving these two little ones, then I would do my very best.

I passed Hawkins on my way to my room.

„What do you have there?"

I stopped and turned to him, slightly pulling aside the fabric so he could see.

„Their nest was destroyed", I explained. „I don‘t think their parents are going to come back for them, and I couldn‘t just leave them there.“

Hawkins gave the two chicks a long look. „I wouldn't bother if I were you. The shadow of death is already looming over them."

I sharply inhaled. Part of me wanted to snap at him. How could he be so cold?! But he was still much stronger than me, so I just scoffed and continued on my way without saying anything. If I wanted to prove him wrong, I needed to get them to a warm place and find food for them, quickly.

A wooden box with a lamp in it made for a nice make-shift incubator, so I hoped. Now there was only the matter of food. That shouldn't be too hard, I figured. Crows were omnivores, right? So I ran down to the kitchen and gathered whatever I could find and the others couldn't use. Scraps of unseasoned meat, bits of grain that had fallen through the cracks, vegetable peels that had been discarded, bits of egg yolk scratched out of discarded egg shells; all mixed together with a bit of water and crushed until it was an indefinable brown sludge. Now I could just hope that the little ones would accept it.

They were weakly cawing when I returned, gathered bits of the sludge onto the narrowest spoon I had been able to find and prayed while holding the spoon up to their beaks.

At first they wouldn't take it, and my heart ached in desperation. At some point I just gently opened their beaks and carefully spooned some food into them, which thankfully got them to understand what I wanted them to do. Once I felt that they had eaten enough, I let out an audible sigh. They would be okay; I was sure of it.

I continued feeding them every two to three hours. Within the first few feeding sessions their caws became noticeably louder and more powerful. They were recovering.

The next day, while I was once again feeding the chicks, someone knocked on my door.

„Come in!", I called out.

The door opened and Hawkins stepped in. "Cora, I wanted to apologize for my rudeness yesterday. You wanting to help those birds was certainly admirable, regardless of the outcome, and that kind of empathetic thinking should not be dismissed."

"Oh, it's fine. I'm also sorry for just ignoring you." I was a little taken aback by his sudden visit. Why would he take time out of his day to apologize to me for something this minor?

A loud, insistent caw broke through the awkward silence between us. I turned to the chicks again. „Oh, I'm sorry, my darlings. You're still hungry, aren't you? Yes, you are!" I gave them each another spoonful of sludge.

Hawkins stared at the two little crows like a man who just had an epiphany. „...they are still alive…?"

„They sure are." I bit my lip. „D…do you still see the shadow of death over them?"

He was quiet for a long while before responding. "No… the shadow is gone."

I breathed a sigh of relief. „That‘s great. I really don‘t know what I‘m doing and was just guessing  and I‘m so glad they‘re okay.“

As if to emphasize just how okay they were, the crowlings were cawing for food again. Before I could react, Hawkins had taken the spoon out of my hand, dipped it into the food mix and and held it out for them. And while they hungrily devoured what he gave them, I saw the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

Finally, they settled down to rest, and Hawkins sat down at my desk, his cards at the ready. After a few minutes of shuffling and placing the cards, he declared:„Their chance of survival is currently 79%.“

„Sounds like good odds to me“, I replied.

„It‘s strange...“ He let his fingers hover over one of the cards. „Just yesterday, their chance of survival was less than 5%.“ His eyes sought mine.

„I guess that, sometimes, someone who cares is all it takes to turn it all around.“ I gently stroked the birds‘ heads. „That‘s why I always want to make an effort to care, no matter how bad things look.“

Hawkins tilted his head, again looking at me like he saw me for the first time.

„...I see.“ Then he got up. „I should probably leave. Your captain would probably be quite displeased if he found me within the private area of one of his companions. Good day to you.“ And he was gone before I could say another word.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

A Fairytale in Wonderworld

Chapter 1

Fairytale

She caressed the pages of her storybook, handling it carefully and lovingly, as if it was both alive and very, very fragile. That‘s how she did it with everything. People, animals, even objects. Not that there were any people here. Or animals. She didn‘t even know how she was familiar with those things… hadn‘t she always been here, alone on her stage, made up of a giant library, rows upon rows of books side by side, their covers meticulously taken care of by someone who had decided to pour her entire heart into it?

She only knew one other person who occasionally visited; Lance, Wonderworld‘s handsome Maestro, who had once upon a time given her the stage and taught her how to shape it to her heart‘s desire. And she really liked it that way, though she couldn‘t really say why. It‘s not like she knew what having a lot of people around her would be like.

Lance was just as kind as he was beautiful; the stunning features of his face only surpassed by the softness of his heart. That was why she liked him. He saw how she acted, and why, and he understood.

Though then, sometimes, she wondered why that seemed so special to her. He was, after all, the only person she ever really had any contact with, for as long as… ever, really. What reason would she have to assume that his kindness was the exception rather than the rule?

Whenever thoughts like that popped up in her mind, she just as swiftly decided to disregard them. Something told her that digging too deep would only end in heartache. And there was no place for heartache in Wonderworld.

She carefully placed the book back on its spot on the shelf and picked up another one; yet another fairytale book, like all of her books. Beautiful stories of people being kind to each other, just like she liked it.

She sat down on a big beanbag and began to read.

A few pages later, she felt his arrival, put the book aside and stood up. Her eyes shimmered with joy. „Lance! So nice of you to visit!“

„Always a pleasure to see your little nook; I see since my last visit you added some books“, Lance greeted her. „I just came by to see how you were doing, my friend. You know if you need me, a hand gladly I‘ll lend.“

Something about having Lance call her a ‚friend‘ was equally delightful and disappointing. Delightful because… well who wouldn‘t want to be considered a friend by someone as wonderful as Lance? On the other hand, she felt like she wanted to be something different to him. Though if one had asked her, she wouldn‘t have known what she‘d rather be called.

„Thank you so much. It means the world to me that you always come to check on me.“

„Anytime, my dear, surely you know. But unfortunately, I must now go. Though when I return to see you once more, I‘m sure your stage will have many new wonderful stories in store.“

With a flourish, he turned around and disappeared.

She turned back to her book and picked it back up again. She couldn‘t help herself; she always felt empty and heavy-hearted after Lance left.

Her fingers wandered over the soft back of the book before she shook her head and put it back on the shelf. No way she could concentrate on the story now.

Something hit the ground next to her with a soft clinking sound, and when she bent down she found a small blue crystal in the shape of a water droplet next to her foot.

These drops occasionally appeared on her stage. And where the drops were…

A small creature shaped like a little black, wingless bird with colorful markings and a white, beaked mask approached her, jumping up and down to reach the drop in her hand.

„Oh, did you want this? Sorry, little one. Here you go.“ She crouched down and held the drop on her open palm for the creature to eat. It grabbed the small crystal with its tiny hands that seemed to suddenly grow out of its body and shoved it into its mouth.

„You‘re really weird“, said a voice from behind her and she almost stumbled and fell from shock.

Behind her stood a the source of the voice, a young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen years old, and looked at her with her head tilted to the side.

„Oh! I didn‘t know there were other people living in Wonderworld. Hello. My name is….“ The woman paused. What WAS her name?

The girl gently helped her:„...Fairytale?“

Fairytale blinked at her. Yes, that sounded right. But how did that child know that before she did? „Yes… yes I think that‘s it. And you must be…“ She had no idea where that sudden knowledge came from, but it just felt right. „...Clockwork Kid.“

„That‘s me!“, Clockwork Kid exclaimed cheerfully. „Gosh I‘m meeting so many new people today. First there was Streetbeat and now there‘s you, Fairytale.“ Then she looked around. „Speaking of… hey Streetbeat! Come here, introduce yourself!“

The boy that came trudging up was about Clockwork Kid‘s age, but looked surly and like he would rather be anywhere else at that moment. „Hi.“

„Hello, Streetbeat. Nice to meet you“, Fairytale responded gently. Then she turned to Clockwork Kid again. „So why did you say I was so weird?“

Clockwork Kid looked over to the small black creature that had now scampered off. „I haven‘t seen anyone hand-feed the Negati yet.“

Fairytale blinked. „Oh is that what they‘re called? I had no idea. I‘ve seen them around my stage pickung up drops before.“

„Yeah, that‘s what they do. Nobody really knows where they come from or what exactly they are.“

„They seem harmless, so I don‘t really think that matters at all“, Fairytale responded. „And they are kind of cute, don‘t you think?“

„I guess“, Clockwork Kid said, still staring at the retreating Negati. Then she appearantly decided to change the subject. „Have you noticed anything weird lately? We have been visiting the other people living in Wonderworld and the ones we spoke to all had a weird vision of a grinning man in a tophat...“

„A grinning man in a tophat...“ Fairytale tried to remember anything like that happening. „I don‘t think so.“ Then she furrowed her brow. There was… something. But she had so much trouble remembering things. The only things that always stuck with her memory were Lance and the things he taught her, like how to shape her stage to her liking, and of course her beloved stories. „Do you think that man might be dangerous?“

It was heartbreaking to even consider. Wonderworld was such a paradise, she didn‘t even want to think about anyone entering it with bad intentions. Surely nobody could be cruel enough to cause heartache in a place as beautiful as this, right? And Lance? Did he know what was going on?

„Have you asked Lance about it yet?“, Fairytale asked.

„He showed up once or twice, but told us not to investigate any further. He says it would be bad for us.“ Clockwork Kid looked down. „But if the grinning man really means us harm, shouldn‘t we know, so we can protect our stages?“

„Well“, Fairytale said. „If Lance says that we can leave it to him, I will.“ She paused for a long moment, before adding:„But if there‘s anything new… anything making you believe that we will have to defend our stages ourselves...“ „We‘ll let you know“, Clockwork Kid promised. „Goodbye for now. Now that we now that you are here, we may come visit you more often.“

„I‘d like that“, Fairytale answered, not sure if that was really true. Sure, these children seemed friendly enough, but…

Once Streetbeat and Clockwork Kid disappeared, Fairytale once again felt the unmistakable shift in the air that usually announced Lance‘s arrival.

She turned and smiled. „Lance! Two visits in such a short time? You‘re spoiling me.“

Lance seemed worried and exhausted, but still had a gentle smile to spare for her. „I‘m sorry should I be disturbing your rest, but checking on you and all others is what I deemed for the best.“

„Speaking of the others, why did you never tell me that there are other people living in Wonderworld?“, she asked.

He slightly tilted his head and gave her another gentle smile. „Keeping you in the dark is not what I meant; it‘s just that on your lonesome you seemed quite content.“

„I suppose I am“, she conceded. „The children were worried. They say that there is an intruder on the loose who may mean us and our world harm.“

„Worry not, o please, worry not, my dear. As long as I live, you have nothing to fear. Please go ahead, do the things you enjoy. And I will make sure our world he won‘t destroy.“

Fairytale paused for a long time, just staring into Lance‘s stunning blue eyes. Then she looked away. „I trust you. But if there is something wrong… I do not want you to carry that burden all alone.“

Lance took her hands in his; the first real physical contact she ever had with him, and it sent a shiver up and down her spine.

„My Fairytale, my princess, my dearest friend and true; sometimes I wonder what I‘d do without you.“ Then he let go and disappeared again, leaving Fairytale more than just a little frazzled.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

My Place in Life

I stared at my old journal, the exact page I had written after I had gotten my Autism diagnosis at age 15. Now that I knew that I wasn‘t from that world to begin with, it put the whole thing into perspective… I assumed. Maybe the things that made me autistic by the other world‘s definition were considered just normal personality traits in Hyrule. Or maybe not... I stared at the page, my own, sloppy handwriting, and knit my brows. I had so many questions.

I had barely noticed that Ganondorf had entered the room. He sat down next to me and put his huge hand on my back. „What are you reading there?“

„My journal“, I replied. „There‘s one thing I keep thinking about. In that other world, I got diagnosed as autistic. You know what that means?“

„No but I am sure you are about to tell me.“

I stared at the page as if I could wrestle answers out of it. „I would like to. But… sometimes I‘m not sure if I really know what it means, myself. The doctor who diagnosed me explained it as me just having a different perspective of everything than everyone else. And I guess that‘s accurate? It sure made me feel like an alien at times.“ I snorted. „Which, y‘know, turned out to be true in a way. So I keep wondering if what is considered divergent in the other world might be considered perfectly normal here. But then when I was with the Shadow Sage Impa for a brief time before you found me, she sure didn‘t seem to consider me normal, so I guess I‘m just weird no matter what world I‘m in. Except that now I am Queen and nobody can give me crap for it.“

I had spoken without thinking, only noticing that maybe I shouldn‘t speak about people abusing me in front of Ganondorf when he tensed up.

„Did people… abuse you?“

I hesitated. „...I wouldn‘t call it abuse. Some people could be very cruel. Others avoided me like it was contagious. Others treated me like me having that different perspective meant I was stupid. And when I asked why people were like this and what I needed to do to be accepted, I got told to just be a little more normal. Like I was supposed to know what that meant. Of course, when I asked, nobody could tell me what it meant, either.“ I sighed. „It was frustrating. On one hand, it was asking a bit much of them. How would one explain normalcy to someone who has no concept of it in the first place? That‘s like a person with working eyes trying to explain colors to a blind person. On the other, if they demanded normalcy, they should at least know what exactly it was they were demanding.“

Ganondorf had listened silently, then he tilted his head. „I think we actually have that concept in Gerudo culture. We have a different word for it, of course, but the description fits. And people like you are actually highly valued in our society. You could say that we appreciate that different perspective, no matter how different it is. Because sometimes that is incredibly important for survival. People who maybe sometimes fail to see or understand the big picture, but pay attention to the small details that others might dismiss as unimportant but can evolve into massive problems if ignored. Or people who do not like to speak but can forge weapons sharp enough to cut through steel and don‘t mind doing it all day. Those who can‘t take a lot of noise because it becomes too much for them but can hear the tiniest sound and locate it.“

„And those that can‘t do any of these things?“

„Remind us that there is more to people than what they can do, and are as loved and cherished as everyone else.“ He pulled me to his chest. „As much as I love and cherish you, and know that you are perfect just the way you are.“

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

In Between Worlds Chapter 1

Sultana stood at the bow of the ship and enjoyed the seabreeze. It did little to ease her anxiety, but it felt nice nonetheless. After a while she found herself playing with the hems of her sleeves. Nobody from the crew seemed to notice, thankfully. What would it look like to them, to see their highborn princess fidget with her clothes like a skittish villagegirl?

She straightened her back, which, thanks to her way too tightly laced corset, was already straight as a candle, and tried to smooth down her hair. She had to make sure to make a good impression when being introduced to Big Mom and her children.

„Your Highness, we will arrive at Whole Cake Island soon. Might I suggest that you retire to your cabin and prepare for the landing?“ The First Mate bowed before her while speaking.

„Of course. If you would excuse me...“

In her cabin, she brushed her hair and touched up on her makeup. Her father had offered to send her favourite chambermaid along with her, but she had refused. Having her maid around her fussing about her would have only made her even more nervous.

While staring in the mirror, she told herself:„There is no need to be nervous. I have never made a bad impression on anyone before. Why would that change now?“

Then again, her usual public appearances didn‘t decide who she would spend the rest of her life with. She just hoped that the man she would end up being given to would not end up being too awful… That, at least, was a small hope to hold onto.

A crowd of curious residents had gathered around the harbor when Sultana stepped off the ship. A carriage, accompanied by twelve soldiers, waited for her. She acted like she had been taught all her life; She smiled and waved to the people as she walked to the waiting vehicle.

The ride was mercifully short, but still Sultana felt her heart sink as she finally stood in front of Big Mom. She sank into a deep curtsy. „Greetings, Your Majesty. I am Princess Sultana of Evergreen Island. It is an honor to finally make your acquaintance.“

Big Mom remained silent for a moment, mostly because she was still chewing on an enormous piece of strawberry shortcake, until she finally answered:„Princess Sultana. It‘s a pleasure to have you as a guest. Your father has already informed me that you intend to become a member of my family. The details are still under discussion, but until then, please feel free to send time with my sons. Your recommendation might just influence who will be your groom.“

That was… unexpected. Why would Big Mom be interested in her wishes? Still, Sultana curtsied once more. „Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty.“

„My my. What a polite young lady. But please, call me Big Mom. ‚Your Majesty‘ sounds so pompous.“

„As you wish“, Sultana replied, curtsying once more.

„Oh and stop doing that. It makes you look like there‘s something wrong with your knees.“

Sultana bit her lip and stood up straight. She was surprised that her cursties were appearantly deemed inappropriate. If her taught behaviour was frowned upon here, then how was she supposed to act? Should she just watch Big Mom‘s other children and see how they acted?

She snapped back into reality when Big Mom spoke to her once more:„If you have any questions, just ask either my children or the doors. They will help you. Furthermore, I will be holding a teaparty this evening to formally introduce you to my children. You be brought to your room in a moment, so you can freshen up a little bit.“

Sultana was supposed to ask what if she had any questions? Surely she misheard. But then she remembered coming through a gate with a face on the way to the castle. So… were the doors in this castle alive?

Everything in this place was so different from her home and on top of that, there was just something off about Big Mom herself. She had shown herself to be quite amicable thus far, but her cheerful smile never quite reached her eyes. Her eyes were cold… calculating. It was the kind of look Sultana knew from her father.

After a servant had brought her to her room, she washed up, exchanged her light purple gown for a more elaborate blue one and had one of the maids that Big Mom had provided for her pin her hair up in a complicated updo. After almost twenty years of wearing corsets, she knew how to hide the discomfort over barely being able to breathe. Oh how she envied the peasant women in her home who didn‘t need to lace their corsets so tightly. The way it was, Sultana could only hope that Big Mom didn‘t expect her to eat a lot.

„Be honest“, she asked the maid. „How do I look?“

„You are looking fabulous, Your Highness!“, the maid said with a forced smile.

„Of course I do“, Sultana sighed. This was going to be a very long evening.

The hall in which the party was held was big enough for at least a hundred people to sit comfortably. Big Mom sat at the head of the table; the place to her left was reserved for Sultana as the guest of honor. On Big Mom‘s other side sat her first born Lord Perospero, then Lady Compote, then Lord Katakuri, and so on, by order of their birth around the table, ending with her youngest on the chair to Sultana‘s left.

Sultana sat down, waiting for Big Mom to introduce her. While she looked around, she felt a lot of curious eyes on her, but there was one pair of eyes that never seemed to leave her. Katakuri, one of the three secondborn sons of Big Mom, was staring at her as if he wanted to catch her in a slip-up… or as if he was fearing that she might jump up and attack his mother at any moment. After a few minutes of this, his attention turned to Big Mom, who cleared her throat.

„As you all know, we have a guest among us this evening. Princess Sultana of Evergreen Island was sent here by her father to become a part of our family. Since it has not been decided who will be her groom yet, I encourage you to spend time with her and get to know her. Princess, would you like to say something too?“

Sultana rose from her seat. „Thank you. First of all, I would like to express my gratitude for the warm welcome I received. Both my father and I are thrilled at the opportuntiy to become a part of the Charlotte family. For this purpose, I am also looking forward to spending time with and getting to know all of you. Thank you.“ She sat back down and, upon being given permission, began to eat.

The table was covered with all kinds of baked goods, cakes, pastries, sweet breads, pies and so on and so forth, all complemented by black tea.

There goes my diet, Sultana thought, but soon found herself too full to eat anymore. The edges of her corset were already digging into her skin and made breathing even more difficult.

„Finished already? Do you not like the food, Princess?“, Big Mom asked.

Sultana flinched. „Oh no, the food is simply delightful! I‘m just not used to eating more than a few bites at a time.“

„Gotta fit into those pretty dresses of yours, hm? Don‘t worry, we‘ll get you used to eating properly in no time!“

This can hardly be called proper food, Sultana thought, but didn‘t say anything.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Charlotte Oven lean over to Katakuri and quietly talk to him. She couldn‘t make out what they said, but they both seemed a little relieved.

The rest of the party went by without incident, and after everyone was dismissed, Sultana walked through the hallways of the castle to her room. She was deep in thought, only returning to reality once she felt the pressure around her stomach and chest disappear.

What just happened? Did the laces of the corset break?

She touched her back and found that the laces had been cleanly cut.

„What...“

She turned around only to come face to knee with Katakuri.

„Did you just cut open my corset?“

„You looked uncomfortable“, he replied flatly. „It would be better to stop wearing these while you‘re here.“

„Uhm...“ Sultana wasn‘t sure whether to be angry or relieved. On one hand, this had been her favourite corset. On the other, she could finally breathe again. „Th...thank you.“

„You should rest now. You will have a busy day tomorrow.“ Without letting her respond, Katakuri walked away, leaving a completely dumbfounded Sultana behind.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

Take my Heart (I don’t need it anymore) Chapter 1

Orange Town was, when it came down to it, a dreadfully dreary place. Once its inhabitants had been stripped of all their valuables, there really was nothing to it. So Cabaji wondered why Captain Buggy insisted on staying any longer. But the captain's word was law, so all Cabaji could do was either linger at Buggy's side or wander the streets of the now barren town, in search of even the slightest bit of entertainment.

A plan that, at this particular evening, was unfortunately being foiled by the weather. Being caught in the rain didn't exactly lift his spirits. The way back to his crew was too far, so the only choice he had was to duck into a nearby bar and hope that the townspeople inside wouldn't dare cause him any trouble.

The dimly lit taproom smelled of smoke and alcohol, and more than one patron winced and retreated to a corner once they realized who had just entered.

Cabaji paid little attention to them. He just plopped himself down at the nearest empty table, his unicycle leaning against his thigh.

The waitress, a cute little thing with long, black hair up in a ponytail, was about to approach him, but the stoutly built barkeeper grabbed her arm and pulled her back, mumbling something and giving Cabaji a pointed look. The girl shook her head and, appearantly ignoring the barkeeper's warning, approached the table Cabaji was sitting at.

„Welcome. What can I get you?" She pulled the small notebook from a pouch at her belt, ready to take his order. Her chipper demeanor confused him; the man at the bar had obviously told her who he was. Yet he found no sign that her chipper demeanor was in any way faked.

„A beer", he told her.

„Coming right up!" And off she went, a slight bounce in her step, only to return a few minutes later with a tankard of beer. „There you go, sir."

He took the drink without thanking her, but he did give her an appreciative look.

She was really cute. Cabaji was usually not one to gawk, but he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on her retreating form a little longer than absolutely necessary. Maybe, just maybe, he found a new passtime for the duration of his stay.

From that moment on, he visited that bar every day, and with a week passing without murder, the other patrons slowly started to relax around him. 

It's not creepy, he told himself while watching the cute waitress run from table to table. The drinks and the service are good. That's why I keep coming here. I am NOT a stalker.

But still he found himself smiling when she finally made her way to his table. 

„And here's your beer, sir", she said with her usual bright smile.

He wanted to say something, but she was already being called to another table before he could figure out what.

Okay, maybe work wasn't the best place to strike up a conversation with her. Which of course was not something he had already been planning for days. That would have been crazy.

He quickly found an opportunity. During the one day of the week where the bar was closed, Cabaji found himself defaulting back to his old routine of walking through the streets, looking for something to entertain himself with. His thoughts kept wandering back to the waitress, until he heard the sound of an acoustic guitar. Curious, he followed it and stopped behind a crowd of people who had probably done the same. 

He elbowed his way to the front, only to find himself face to face with the very woman that had drawn him to that bar over and over again. She was playing a fast-paced, rhythmic song on her guitar and had a cap for donations on the ground in front of her. Some townspeople dropped a few coins and notes into the cap, and she thanked them with a smile and a nod without interrupting her song.

Cabaji found himself tapping his foot to the music. She was good; not amazing and certainly not perfect, but… good.

She struck the last chord and finished her performance with a little bow. „Thank you for listening, friends."

The crowd mumbled some praise to her and then dispersed. And just as she was about to pick up the cap, Cabaji quickly approached her and also dropped some cash into it.

„Thank you-" She looked up and her eyes widened for a moment. „Well, if it isn't my favorite customer. Looks like we just keep running into each other, don't we?"

„I bet you say that to all the boys." He smirked. „So you're… a waitress and a musician?"

„What can I say? Waitressing doesn't pay as much as it probably should give the amount of garbage I have to put up with on a daily basis."

„...I see."

„Sooo…" She leaned over and looked up at him from under her thick eyelashes. „Does the big scary pirate in front of me have a name?"

Was she… flirting? No, that couldn't be. „I‘m Cabaji. And you are…?“

„Erika. You.. are with the pirates that set up camp here a few weeks back, aren‘t you?“

„I am“, he replied. „Does that… bother you?“

„Not as much as it probably should.“ Erika shrugged. „I have to admit that I was kind of excited when you arrived. It‘s rare for something interesting to happen in this town.“

„Hmmm...“ He tilted his head to the side. „So you‘re a little thrill seeker?“

„I guess.“

He came closer, knowing full well that this might intimidate her. „And you would be willing to mingle with pirates to get that thrill?“

She was a head shorter than him, and now so close that he could feel her warm breath waft against his bare chest. Her gaze met his. „Yes.“

„Hmm… you need to be more careful. There are many pirates who would gladly take advantage of that.“

„Maybe I want to be taken advantage of.“

He brought his hand to the back of her neck, wiping away the hair and trailing his thumb from her ear down to her rapidly beating pulse. Her eyes glazed over, making her look almost delirious. Her lips slightly parted, a gesture ever so inviting… Cabaji knew that if he wanted, he could have her right now. He could claim those pillowy lips, pull her body against his, slowly igniting her until she got so much more than the thrill she had wanted. But he wanted to savor it…

„Cabaji! Captain Buggy needs us!“

Cabaji parted from Erika and mumbled a curse under his breath. That was so typical for Mohji, to interrupt him in such a critical moment. But one look at the still dazed looking Erika told him that he had done a good job of engraving himself into her memory. Even if he never saw her again, she would always remember the dashing pirate and the afternoon in a back alley of this dreary little town.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

The Gentle Arisen

I was taught not to believe in fate, but to instead prepare for any kind of coincedence. As the princess and future queen of the kingdom of Aldea, it was my duty to always know what to do and never be caught off guard. To react to any kind of crisis at a moment‘s notice. Even if that meant leaving the kingdom that had been my home all my life.

The dragon had returned and brought with it all kinds of horrors which had been slumbering in the deepest, most rotten bowels of the earth for centuries. The realms of the world were all bound to a pact made during the first appearance of the wyrm: To send aid to whatever kingdom, duchy or county the dragon appeared in.

And so it came to pass that I, as a representative of Aldea, was sent to Gransys, the duchy which was the domain of Duke Edmun Dragonsbane.

It was a long, arduous journey that spanned over many days, but finally, after two weeks of travel, a scout my entourage had sent forth spotted the towers of Gran Soren, the capital of Gransys, on the horizon.

The sun shone through the leaves, painting dancing, glistening shapes onto the forest floor. Even though the beginning of fall of was at hand and the leaves on the trees started to don their brightest shades of red and yellow, the heat of summer still lingered in the air like the memory of a lover‘s warmth.

Gransys was a beautiful place, as far as I could tell, with thick forests and clear streams. Despite the year having entered its second half by now, the air smelled lively and fertile. The bushes and trees were heavy with fruit, which we took advantage of by picking berries and apples during the few breaks we made.

The gentle breeze was tugging at the exquisite silken dress I wore. The fabric was thin, long and flowing, which was typical attire for the people of Aldea, due to the land‘s warm climate. The dress left my shoulders exposed and was sleeveless, but I did wear a pair of pale-golden armlets slightly above my elbows, to which fluttering pieces of the same fabric my dress was made of were attached. As a belt, I wore a long trail of sheer, light blue fabric tied loosely around my hips, with one loose end almost as long as the bottom part of my dress.

I wore no jewelry save for the armlets, and the dress was without embroidery. It made me look ethereal, almost like a spirit or a goddess, perfectly complementing my slender, delicate features, without making it look like I was flaunting my family‘s wealth.

Finally, we arrived at the gates of Gran Soren. The guards bowed before me, their eyes widening with awe as they saw me.

„Princess Celeste. Your Highness. Welcome to Gran Soren.“ They opened the gates, and beyond them I found the streets densely packed with spectators awaiting my arrival. They only left a narrow path for me and my entourage to travel through, which would undoubtedly lead us right to the castle, where the Duke would be expecting us.

The people were cheering as I rode past them, some dropped flowers onto our path. Good thing my horse, a beautiful white mare by the name of Shimmer, was used to such noise already.

The curious crowd accompanied us up until we were in front of the castle gate, where we dismounted and a stableboy brought our horses to the Duke‘s stable.

As a royal guest, I had been given a room in one of the towers, where I had a beautiful view of the entire city. A huge rug, red and with golden embroidery, covered almost the entire floor of the room, which contained a big, soft bed with a canopy, a wooden bathtub, a desk decorated with intricate carvings, a matching chair and a similarly decorated wardrobe.

As soon as my arrival had been announced, Duke Edmun had ordered the chambermaids assigned to me to prepare a bath. The water was cold, as expected, but I was used to bathing in cold water and actually enjoyed the slight chill it left on my skin.

I washed myself with the soap that had been provided, which smelled slightly of lilac and lavender. Once I had gotten out of the tub, I began brushing my long, raven black hair until it was softer than the finest silk.

Later that evening, once I was done washing and had exchanged my travel dress for a similar one in white instead of blue, Duke Edmun sent a servant to inform me that he was now ready to greet me.

I entered the throne room with my head held high. The nobles in the room whispered, the men with awe, the women largely with envy. And as I walked past the people gathered… he caught my eye. T‘was in that moment that a bond for eternity was formed.

He was tall and beautiful. A strong chin and piercing gaze spoke of noble origin, but also of character. His eyes, like two beautiful jewels, were following my every movement, though is face was so stoic that I couldn‘t tell what he was thinking. His mid-length blonde hair looked slightly tousled, or maybe it was just slightly curly. He was undoubtedly the most beautiful man I had ever seen. The crest he was wearing on his armor was the crest of Voldoa, and judging by the armor and his proud, beautiful stature, he had to be the Lord of Voldoa. And the mere sight of him made my knees weak and caused heat to pool in my lower body.

I forced myself to focus on Duke Edmun. Once I stood in front of him, I curtsied perfectly and said:„Your Grace. It is an honor to meet you.“

He tilted his head to the side. „The honor is all mine, Your Highness. I hope your lodgings are to your liking?“

„They are all I could ask for. You have my thanks.“

The Duke smiled to himself. I couldn‘t help myself, but something about him was disconcerting, though I couldn‘t put my finger on it. He just felt… off.

He gestured to the Lord of Voldoa, the very man that had caught my attention earlier. „Might I introduce Lord Julien of Voldoa? Like you, he came here to show support to the wyrm-hunt.“

Lord Julien took my hand and placed a light kiss upon it. „Your Highness. It‘s a pleasure to meet you.“

Pleasure, not honor. My cheeks heated up. „Oh, Lord Julien, I assure you: The pleasure is all mine.“

He looked up, and there was a glint of appreciation in his gorgeous blue eyes. My heart beat faster. Oh how I wanted to look into these beautiful blue jewels that were his eyes for just a bit longer!

But alas, business called, so I turned my attention to Duke Edmun again. „I have brought with me 100 of the finest knights Aldea has, armed with the finest steel our mines would yield. Should that not suffice, my father assures you that he will send more. But he felt that it would be unwise to have me travel in even more company.“

„Of course. No father would want to take his chances when it comes to his child‘s safety. I have already made sure that your knights receive appropriate lodgings, Your Highness.“

„And for that, you have my gratitude.“

Duke Edmun rubbed his chin thoughtfully. „Hm. Did you know that tonight marks the anniversary of the day I slew the dragon? The whole city will hold a great festival in honor of it. Lord Julien, why don‘t you go enjoy the festivities with the Princess? I appreciate your vigor in the wyrm-hunt, but surely even a steadfast knight such as yourself needs to take a moment to breathe every once in a while.“

A festival? While there was a dragon rampaging through the duchy? Was His Grace out of his mind? I saw my shock reflected in Lord Julien‘s expression; his stunning blue eyes were filled with disdain.

„Your Grace, are you sure that it is wise to hold such a celebration in times like these?“

The duke‘s eyes glinted in the light of the candles as he leaned forward, though whether that glint was mirth or disapproval, I could not tell. „I not only deem it wise, but necessary. The common people need a distraction. I cannot overstate the importance of preventing a panic at the moment. So go ahead.“ He leaned back again. „Unless the company of the Princess wouldn‘t be to your liking.“

That left a sour taste in my mouth. I would have loved to spend time with and get to know Lord Julien, but I didn‘t like how His Grace essentially forced both of us. If Lord Julien continued to refuse, it would imply disrespect towards me, and while I didn‘t consider it such, there were other people in the room who certainly wouldn‘t hesitate to spread the news. And who knew how that would end. The same would apply if I were to refuse.

Lord Julien and I looked at each other with defeat. „As you wish, Your Grace.“

Lord Julien made no secret of his disapproval. He was silent the whole time we were walking towards the marketplace, lips a thin, pale line in his handsome face.

Once I was reasonably certain that we were out of earshot of the Duke‘s men, I tentatively spoke:„His Grace doesn‘t seem to be taking the matter very seriously.“

„T‘is a folly“, Lord Julien agreed. „Such recklessness makes me doubt His Grace‘s mental state!“ His stoic pallor was replaced with an angry redness.

„It is rather odd“, I replied, my eyes getting lost in the dancing twilight of the torch-lit city. From afar, I could already hear music and laughter. „He, of all people, should know the threat this dragon poses to the world.“

„It must be alarming for you to arrive here, in a duchy threatened by a dragon, only to find the duke ignoring the danger, Your Highness“, he said in a soft voice. „Are you feeling quite alright?“ For the first time since we left the castle, he turned to me, his jewel-like blue eyes cast in shadow, yet I still felt their gaze in mine.

My lips slightly parted, though I was lost for words. Truth was that I hadn‘t even thought of that. I had been way too enamored with him to consider the risk of being in Gransys at the current time. And yet I did not want to seem so reckless to him.

„Alarming. Yes. But as the Princess of Aldea, it is my duty to stand by Aldea‘s allies in these dark times.“

„Even if the allies are guiding you right to the slaughter?“ Lord Julien seemed terribly weary all of a sudden. „I admire your valor and loyalty, Your Highness, but the world would weep at the loss of you.“

„I am but one of many drops of water in an ocean“, I replied humbly. „My death would mean little in the grand scheme of things.“

„Would it, though? If I recall correctly, you are your father‘s only heir. Surely losing its beloved princess would cause upheaval in Aldea.“

„It certainly would“, I replied, remembering a few instances of such things happening in Aldea‘s long and rich history, and each of them followed by a long and bloody civil war over who would assume the throne. „But I am bound by duty to remain.“

He took my hand and lifted it to his mouth, placing yet another gentle kiss upon my soft skin. „Then let it be my duty to protect you, my Princess.“

My face flushed red and I got lost in the beautiful shimmer of his heavenly sapphire eyes. „You are too kind, Lord Julien“, I whispered lovingly.

„Shall we follow His Grace‘s orders, then?“, he said softly. „While I may not agree with him and his reasoning, I fear there is little we can do, and refusing would only lead the people here to come to false conclusions.“

„Indeed“, I replied, and continued following Lord Julien towards the festivities.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

Everything Wrong with Ever After High

Ever After High.

When Alex had received their invitation to attend this school of fairytales as an exchange student, they had been thrilled. They loved fairtytales, and happy endings, and all things magical, and being pulled from their dull, ordinary life into a world of magic had felt like a dream come true. At first.

The sun was out bright, forcing them to shield their eyes with their hand. They had been attending Ever After High for half a year now, and their initial excitement had soured fairly quickly. And the person most to blame for that was currently prancing around in front of the school gates, tossing back her flawless golden curls and giving a dazzling smile to all of the students passing her.

Apple White, the inofficial queen of the school, who didn‘t even have the decency to be the Alpha Bitch stereotype and instead coated her selfishness and entitlement in false friendliness. Alex had actually gotten along with her fairly well at first, though her constant self-aggrandizement had been grating even back then, when Alex still thought that it was a harmless quirk.

But then Legacy Day happened, and her actions after that had revealed her true nature all too well.

Alex hoped that they could scoot by undetected, but fate unfortunately had other plans.

„Alex! Oh Alex!“

They flinched, put on a forced smile and turned to Apple. „Good morning, Apple. Anything I can do for you?“

„I‘m SO glad you ask!“ Apple took their hands. „Headmaster Grimm asked me to ask you to come to his office during lunchbreak. Briar, Ashlynn and I are gonna be there, too.“

„Is this about Raven?“, Alex asked dryly.

„Why yes! Since your world would also be very affected by losing my story, the Headmaster thought that it would only be appropriate for you to be there! I‘m sure Raven will listen to you!“

They were about to rebuff her, but then paused. They did indeed have a few things to say on the matter, a lot of things they hadn‘t dared to say out loud before. But since this was an open invitation to say their bit…

„Sure. I‘ll be there.“

„Ah, Mx. Smith, there you are. Have a seat! Ms. Queen should be here any minute!“ Headmaster Grimm ushered them into his office, where the already announced students were already sitting in a half circle. Alex made it a point to avoid their gazes while they plopped themselves down on one of the comfortably padded chairs. They only briefly looked up to see Ashlynn and Briar consoling a very tense-looking Apple.

This was ridiculous. Why did Ashlynn act like she cared so much about legacies when in private, she was pretty brazenly giving hers the finger by dating Hunter, a student about as far from being a prince as one can get? Pretty hypocritical, Alex thought before reminding themself that Ashlynn probably only wanted to save herself from being the next person on the receiving end of Apple‘s nonsense. Who needs enemies with a friend like Apple White?

The door to the office quietly opened and closed, and Raven Queen, daughter of the Evil Queen, stepped in.

„You wanted to see me, Headmaster?“ She already sounded annoyed, and Alex couldn‘t blame her. She had been called to the headmaster‘s office at least three dozen times since Legacy Day.

„Have a seat, Ms. Queen“, Headmaster Grimm told her politely. „As you know, the matter of your refusal to sign the Storybook of Legends is still unresolved, so I have called in some of your classmates to hopefully make you see reason.“

Raven‘s eyes met Alex‘, and they could almost see Raven wincing at seeing them there. Of course, she probably thought that they also wanted to talk her into becoming the next Evil Queen.

„We do not mean you any harm, Raven“, Apple began, to which Alex could only barely contain a scoff. „We just want you to do the right thing!“

„What you have done could destroy all of our stories! And then what will become of us?“, Briar asked.

Alex opened their mouth to say something, but Headmaster Grimm cut in:„It has come to my attention that you have become quite close to our exchange student. I want to make one thing abundantly clear to you: If you do not sign, and continue to reject your legacy, then Mx. Smith‘s world will suffer for it. The tale of Snow White is one of the most beloved tales told in their world, and if you refuse to be who you were born to be… then their world will lose this story. Look at your friend. Would you be able to do that to them?“

Alex drew in a deep breath to speak once more, but Apple cut them off:„People in Alex‘ world have learned kindness, compassion and hard work from my story for centuries! If you won‘t do it for me, or yourself, do it for them!“

Another attempt, but then Briar started up:„Our stories are so important to everyone, both people living here and in Alex‘ world!“

It felt terribly childish, but at this point, Alex was so fed up with being talked over that they grabbed the Headmaster‘s sleeve and yanked on it to get his attention.

„Mx. Smith, what in the name of-“

„I was just going to ask if I can also say something, or if I‘m just here to be used as a prop for guilttripping“, they replied snidely. „Because believe it or not, I have a lot to say about all of this.“

The headmaster‘s scandalized look immediately turned worried, as if he realized that maybe inviting Alex was a mistake. Still, he replied:„Go right ahead then.“

„Fine.“ They got up. Took another deep breath. Then they let the bomb drop. „I think Raven should be able to do whatever the hell she wants.“

„WHAT!“, Apple shrieked and got up. „You can‘t be serious!“

„Do I look like I‘m joking, princess?“, they replied. „Sit down, I‘ll be getting to you soon enough. This whole legacy thing is creepy to begin with, but even worse is that it is a complete betrayal to what so many of these stories try to teach people.“

„What do you mean?“, Apple asked in a shaky voice, obviously close to tears.

„Let me answer that question with another question, Appie-Dappie. Why did the first, the REAL Snow White deserve her Happily Ever After?“

„That… that‘s just how the story goes. She was good and the Evil Queen was evil, and good triumphs over evil, and… and...“ Apple‘s voice failed. Then she squared up again. „Why don‘t you tell us why YOU think that the first Snow White deserved her Happily Ever After?“

„Gladly“, Alex replied. „The original Snow White deserved her Happily Ever After because she was kind. She was a young girl who was forced into terrible circumstances through no fault of her own, and even when she was at her lowest, without knowing that there was a happy ending waiting for her, she still was loving, generous and trusting. She didn‘t know what kind of conclusion her story would have. She didn‘t help the disguised queen because she knew that she would get a kiss for it, she didn‘t eat the poisoned apple because she knew it would get her a rich husband. And let me make one thing perfectly clear: The original Snow White would have never thought of trying to coerce someone who had never done anything to her into a life of misery for her benefit. And now look at you, Apple. All of your supposed good deeds are entirely a performance. You go through the motions to get the outcome you want, no matter how many people you actually hurt in the process. Everything to make yourself the center of everyone‘s world. Come to think of it… you‘d probably make a better Evil Queen than Raven would, self-absorbed and entitled as you are. And no wonder, considering you sorround yourself with nothing but mindless sycophants!“

Apple had broken into hysterical sobs somewhere during that rant and was quickly being consoled by Ashlynn and Briar again. „But… but my story will stop existing if Raven doesn‘t become the Evil Queen!“

„Then maybe it should stop existing! I know I‘d rather forget that this story exists than have it be tainted by having a spoiled brat like you assume the role of Snow White! But you know what? It WON‘T stop existing because Snow White has been turned into so many books, plays, movies and whatnot that it would be nigh impossible to completely erase it! You‘re simply doing the You thing of overstating your own importance!“

At this point, Apple got up and rushed out of the room, still sobbing, and was followed by her two accessories.

„That‘s quite enough, Mx. Smith!“, bellowed the Headmaster once he had freed himself from his horrified daze, roughly grabbing their elbow. His face has flushed to an angry shade of red, that, had they been forced to give it a name, would have been called something like „About to commit murder“.

„Someone had to tell her at some point“, Alex spat and pulled their arm back. „I think we‘re done here. Raven?“

„That was harsh“, Raven commented after walking next to Alex in silence for a while. „You‘re lucky you didn‘t get exiled for speaking to Apple like that.“

„You can‘t tell me that she didn‘t deserve it. Apple is the worst kind of liar. She‘s lied so long and so hard to everyone including herself that she started to believe her own hype. Hopefully being called out on it drags her back to earth. Though with her army of yes-men enabling her, I kind of doubt it.“

„Hm. Oh, thank you, for speaking out on my behalf, by the way. I may not entirely agree with some of the things you said, but… it‘s appreciated, nonetheless.“

„That‘s what friends are for“, Alex replied cheerfully. „Come on, let‘s grab a bite to eat. It‘s only a matter of time before Apple tells everyone how mean I was to her and I become Public Enemy #1, and I don‘t think I can deal with that crap on an empty stomach.“

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

When Past and Present meet Chapter 5

Just a little while later, she was on her way back to the bedroom, a plate with raspberry tartlets in hand and a noticable bounce in her step. When she opened the door, she found most of Reaver's clothes in a pile on the floor, with only one shirt, a vest and a pair of pants neatly folded on a chair. Jack was laying on the bed again, still naked, and only looked up when she stepped in.

„There you are, my dear. What took you so long?"

She held up the plate and grinned. „I couldn't decide what to have for breakfast. And you? Did you decide that you don't want to get up yet, after all?"

A dark chuckle escaped him. „Well, I do believe that I owe you 550 years worth of lazy mornings in bed. Don't I?"

"That's true", she conceded and slipped under the covers after placing the plate on the bedside table. Quickly, Jack reached over and grabbed one of the pastries.

„Open wide!"

„Jack…" Her attempt at grabbing it from his hand proved futile. „I'm a big girl. I can feed myself."

„That wouldn't be as fun though. Come on. For me?"

She rolled her eyes. „Fine."

The tangy taste of the raspberries made her downright nostalgic. It reminded her of long summer days spent picking berries close to Knothole Glade, so very long ago, of helping her mother cook them into jam or bake them into pies. The taste of childhood, of the innocence she had long since lost.

Once she was done with breakfast, she snuggled closer to Jack. Who cared about innocence? She certainly didn‘t. Not anymore, anyway.

She kissed his mask, and he sighed contently in response. Then he looked over to his bedside, where one of Reaver's hero dolls sat.

„What's with that doll?", she asked. „I know Reaver had one of these, but I don't think he ever had it sitting next to his bed."

„I moved it there", Jack replied. „I thought he might want to witness what I'm doing with this body."

„Wha…"

„When I said that he is dead, I wasn‘t entirely truthful. A quick death like that seemed undeserved, after all he did to you."

„So you sealed his soul in that doll?"

„That's right. So now he can watch me take everything from him and enjoy all of the pleasures he dedicated his life to, while he is caught in an unfeeling, unmoving vessel, unable to do anything but observe… and despair." Jack chuckled and poked the doll with one finger. „Isn't that right, you pathetic little leech?"

For a moment, the doll's button-eyes seemed almost animated, seeking hers in a silent, desperate plea. For help? For mercy? She did not know, and she didn't care. He didn't deserve either of those.

„A fate well earned", she agreed and wrapped her arms tightly around Jack.

It was almost noon when they finally got out of bed. The more modern clothes he had picked out of Reaver's wardrobe looked good on him; though she still preferred him in his typical cowl and armor. Maybe they could have a replica of them made with all of the money they now had access to. Surely, there had to be a blacksmith still capable of forging armor like that, if given enough references.

Barry hadn't approached them at all the rest of the morning. He was probably still struggling with the news of Reaver's "passing". She hoped that he would understand that this was for the best; for everyone involved. Except maybe the rest of Albion. Which reminded her…

„What now? Are you going to try and burn down Albion again?“

„No, not yet, anyway. So much time has passed, and from what little I saw of it while being carried around by that merchant, Albion has changed quite a bit. And some of these changes piqued my interest.“

„I can tell you all about it. How about we go on a walk through Bowerstone Industrial? I could show you the factories, and explain how they work and what they do. Now that you‘ve taken Reaver‘s place, you are the boss of all of that anyway, so you probably should learn about it.“

Jack tilted his head. „You sound excited.“

She grinned at him. „I am. Throughout the years, there were so many moments of me thinking ‚I would love to show all of this to Jack‘ and ‚I wonder what Jack would say about this‘ and sometimes even a definitive ‚Jack would absolutely love this‘.“

He gave her a fond look. „I‘d hate to keep you waiting any longer then; lead the way.“

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

When Past and Present meet Chapter 4

Chapter under the cut for spicy reasons

Divine.

That's the only word she could think of to describe the feeling of being with Jack again.

„Come on", he murmured into her shoulder. „You've had a long day, and this bed is big enough for two."

She chuckled. „You'll have to let go of me first, so I can get out of my uniform."

With a small grumble, he let go. „Fine, but don't be too long."

She shed the dress so quickly, she almost ripped it in the process. Then she crawled under the covers next to him, back into his eagerly waiting arms. Jack let out a pleased hum. „That's much better. Your skin is as soft as I remember, my dear." As if to emphasize his words, he let his fingers glide across her body, from her shoulders over her breasts, waist and finally to the hem of her smallclothes.

„What about you?", she asked softly. „You're way too dressed for my taste." Then she ripped open his nightshirt, sending its tacky golden buttons flying through the room.  She had never paid much attention to how Reaver was built, even when sleeping with him. But now that his body housed Jack, she found that he looked absolutely delightful. He was muscular, but still very slim. The graceful physique of someone who valued precision over brute strength. His skin was deathly pale and without any marks; no scars, no bumps, nothing. And now, he was truly perfect. She wrapped her arms around his torso, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of skin on skin, his heartbeat right next to her ear. 

„Sleep, my love", Jack whispered to her, running his fingers through her hair. „You are exhausted."

„...don't want to…", she mumbled. How could she explain to him that she didn‘t want to miss a single second of his presence, no matter how much sleep tugged at her? That she wanted to hold and kiss and feel him right now? 

His dark chuckle sent a rush of heat straight to her nethers. „Oh? Do I have to tire you out first?" He rolled around so she was on top of him. „Is your desire for me so strong? Or did nobody manage to properly satisfy you during my absence?" His fingers found her most sensitive spot through her undergarments. „Tell me, my sweet. How many nights did you spend fantasizing, touching yourself to the thought of me? Your beautiful, slender fingers drenched in your juices, while you imagined that it was me inside of you?"

„Jack.. oh gods", she gasped, grinding against his hand. It was incredible, how he could bring her so close with just his words and a single finger.

„Tell me", he demanded again. „All of the dirty things that went through your pretty little head while you played with yourself. I want to know every little detail."

She scoured her memories for any of her fantasies, but Jack teasing her clit was making thinking quite difficult. „I-I imagined myself tied down, yours to do with as you pleased… t-teasing me until I was b-begging you to take me. A-and I l-loved the idea of being helpless… at your mercy… and imagining all of the things you would do to me…" His breathing quickened and so did the

movement of his hand between her legs. „I-it made me so wet. T-the idea of being your little toy.“

„Tied up and helpless, hm? So lewd…"

„Jack please", she whimpered. „I need you so bad."

„Do you now?" Another stroke against her clit made her yelp. „Ah yes, I can tell. That needy little body of yours is begging to be filled."

He ripped her underwear like paper, and just the sudden brush of air against her sex almost drove her over the edge.

There was no time to lose. She needed him, right now! She tore at the lacings of his pants until finally, his cock jumped out at her, hard and ready. As soon as she positioned his tip against her entrance, he grabbed her hips and slammed her down, hitting that sweet spot deep within her.

Her lustful scream seemed almost inhuman.

„I love this“, he said hoarsely and began to guide her waist. „Your screams are music to my ears.“

She followed his movement, riding him, but the previous stimulation didn‘t leave her with much energy. „Jack, I‘m close...“

„Then come!“

Her movement became more erratic, the tension building in her abdomen, her vision growing hazy. The orgasm tore through her like a tidal wave, she tensed up and then sank down on him. Now he turned her around so he was on top, and continued; shallow, sloppy thrusts igniting her anew.

„Jack“, she groaned, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his mask. „Deeper!“

„So greedy...“ He lifted her hips and buried himself in her all the way down to the hilt. „But oh you feel so amazing!“

He picked up more speed, and with a few last, deep thrusts, he spilled himself inside of her. There was a smirk in his voice when he said:„You have no idea how much I have missed this, my sweet.“

Sleep was already gripping her, so all she could muster was a quiet „Imissedyoutoo“ before dozing off.

In the morning, she at first almost believed that she had dreamed it all. She was alone in the bed, and after a moment of regaining her orientation, she found Jack standing in front of Reaver‘s huge wardrobe, butt naked, going through his many, many clothes, but rejecting each outfit with a dismissive snarl.

„Is this really what people are wearing nowadays?“, he asked, holding up one of Reaver‘s most expensive coats as if it was something extremely repulsive.

„Since when are you so picky about clothes?“, she asked.

Jack was just about to answer, when he was, once again, interrupted by a knock on the door.

„Master Reaver? I can‘t find Daphne anywhere, I fear she-“ Barry stopped when he saw the scene in front of him. He squinted. „Master Reaver?“

Jack scoffed quietly and turned his attention to his wardrobe again. „Your Master Reaver is dead.“

Barry‘s mismatched eyes wandered over to her. „Daphne? Explain?“

„It‘s kind of a long story“, she began. „How about I get dressed and we go into the kitchen. Get ourselves some breakfast. And then I can explain everything to you.“

„Is it really necessary for you to be fraternizing with a mortal like this, my dear?“, Jack asked, slightly annoyed.

„Hey, be nice to him, yeah? Barry is the closest thing to a friend I‘ve had in centuries, and probably the only thing that kept me sane during the past five years.“

Jack huffed. „If you say so. Then go explain everything to him while I try to find something actually decent in this idiot‘s wardrobe.“

„What the hell just happened“, Barry asked as soon as they were out of earshot. „Who is this? Why does he look like Master Reaver? What HAPPENED to Master Reaver? And most importantly: What does that mean for us?“

„Us...“ she hummed quietly. „You can stay as a servant, if you want. Jack will treat you a lot better than Reaver ever did, I‘ll make sure of that. Or you can leave, and find work elsewhere.“

„That doesn‘t answer my other questions, Daphne.“

She took a deep breath. „Do you know the story of Jack of Blades?“

Barry only gave her a blank look. „Jack of Blades? The guy from that old legend, who tried to destroy Albion but was killed by the King‘s ancestor?“

„Not killed, just… incapacitated“, she corrected him. „Yeah. That one.“

„What about him?“

„You just met him.“

Barry quickly looked towards the bedroom, then back at her. „You‘re kidding.“

„Do I look like I am? The mask I bought held Jack‘s soul. I knew that from the beginning. He is the loved one I talked about in the tavern.“

„That‘s insane. That would mean that you‘re even older than Master Reaver!“

„I am, by a good century“, she replied. „I don‘t know how he did it, but Jack made me immortal back then, when I officially became his lover. So I could be with him forever.“

Barry obviously needed a moment to process that information. „And Master Reaver? What happened to him?“

„Dead, I assume. His body is Jack‘s now.“ She raised an eyebrow. „Does that bother you?“

He stared straight ahead. „I don‘t know. I never thought about what it would be like to live without Master Reaver.“ Then he looked at her again. „And you? Are you going to continue being a maid here?“

„I don‘t think so“, she said. „No idea what the future will hold. If Jack will even stay here. He never cared much about money or luxuries. And if he leaves, I will leave with him.“

„You‘d follow him anywhere, would you?“ Was she hallucinating, or was there a hint of bitterness in his voice?

Still, she answered truthfully. „Anywhere, to the end of the world, to hell and back, even beyond this plane of existence.“

He took a deep breath. „Well, if you two decide to stay, then I go on doing what I‘m always doing; serving the man of the house. And for the first time ever, the lady of the house as well.“

She patted him on the back with a fond smile. „Thank you for understanding me, Barry.“

With a somewhat agreeable mumble, he changed the subject:„So, we… I should probably get breakfast ready for Master R… Master Jack.“

„Oh, Jack doesn‘t eat.“

Barry shot her a surprised look. „Okay. Pity about all of the food in the pantry, though.“

„I mean… Jack not eating just means that you and the other servants can help yourselves to your heart‘s content. I know I will.“

„You can do that because you‘re the lady of the house now.“

„Yes, and as the lady of the house, I give you and the rest of the staff permission to help yourselves to whatever you want.“

They went on bickering all the way down to the kitchen.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

When Past and Present meet Chapter 3

There was so much to say, and yet she couldn't find the words for any of it. Her thoughts were an ever-repeating loop of "He's back, he's here", and for the first time in hundreds of years, she felt true joy.

Jack of Blades, her beloved hero, was back.

„It has been a long time, my dear", he spoke again. „How has life been treating you in these past few centuries?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat so she could answer. It was very much like him to treat this all so casually. „Life was pretty empty without you."

„Well, I'm here now. So no tears anymore."

She wiped the last remaining tears from her eyes, and suddenly found herself overcome with exhaustion. 

„Tired?", Jack asked, ever perceptive. „Then sleep, my dear. I won't go anywhere."

That was all the permission she needed. She let herself drop onto her pillow, wrapping herself and the mask in the covers. As sleep enveloped her, her mind was flooded with memories. And this time, she welcomed them with open arms.

It was the middle of winter, and she has insisted on visiting her uncle, who lived in the middle of Witchwood, far away from her family's comfortable home in Knothole Glade, worried that he might not find enough food during this time.

The blizzard had caught her off guard on her way back home; and with the masses of snow whipping into her eyes, she hadn't seen herself stray from the path. Her clothes were enough to keep her warm in normal weather conditions, but with the snow and wind, she was soon so drenched that they clung to her skin like she had been swimming. A sudden gust made her stumble and fall to her knees. This wasn't good. Getting lost in a blizzard was bad news even in the less dangerous parts of Albion. But this was Witchwood, the most Balverine-infested region of the whole country, and she doubted that a bit of wind and snow would stop these creatures. She wrapped her arms around herself, holding back tears. Every breath she took felt like it filled her lungs with tiny icicles, each intake of air meant pain.

A miracle, that's what she needed. Otherwise, her chances of finding shelter before the cold or a pack of hungry Balverines took her was pretty much zero.

She faintly remembered someone once telling her that freezing to death was actually one of the easier ways to go. The cold was uncomfortable at first, but eventually, one would stop feeling it, and just get tired… and then fall asleep, never to wake up again. A good, quiet, pleasant death. She could accept that, sad as it was to die so young. But just when she was about to accept her fate, he appeared out of the frozen haze; dark armor and red cowl covered in a thin layer of snow. Only few people could claim to have met the legendary Jack of Blades. Mostly because few lived to tell the tale. Though in the sudden appearance of the fabled hero, she found an unexpected ray of hope. Maybe he would give her an even quicker death than the howling winds.

His golden, bloodshot eyes met hers.

He has pretty eyes, she thought in her freezing delirium. I think I'll die happy if these eyes are the last thing I see.

Said eyes widened for a moment, almost a hint of recognition in them, though with the rest of his face covered by the mask, his exact expression was nigh impossible to read. He looked around, then back at her… and extended his hand. She stared at it for a moment, both because the cold made it hard to think and because she hadn‘t expected that. Did he want to… help her? Did it even matter at this point? It didn't, of course.

So she reached out to his offered hand, agonizingly slow, as if she had to force every single muscle to move individually. His gauntlet felt even colder than the wind and snow, frost biting into her skin. But once she had given this sign of accepting his help, he came closer, grabbing her waist, pulling her out of the snowdrift that had formed around her and finally throwing her over his shoulder. The last thing she felt before passing out was him walking… she knew not where.

She had no idea if she had really slept or just spent the night lost in sweet memories, but when she woke up, it was just before sunrise; her usual time to get up. With a protesting groan, she untangled herself from the bedsheets and gathered up her uniform.

„I rememer you loving to stay in bed with me in the morning", Jack commented. „You'd sometimes not let me get up until noon."

She slowed down in her movement, a small smile blooming on her face. „Yes, I remember. But I can't do that now; Reaver will be furious if I don't start working on time, and I don't feel like being beaten today." She had spoken without thinking; something she only noticed when the air in the room grew noticably colder.

„He… beats you. Am I understanding this correctly?"

„He beats all of his servants", she added, as if that would make him any less angry.

„...Servants?" His voice was soft and quiet, but she knew him well enough to feel the seething rage behind it. „I cannot wait to have a body again. I'll make him pay for every single bump and bruise he ever gave you. I will strip his skin from his flesh and then his flesh from his bones. I will-"

A knock at the door interrupted him.

„Are you awake? Come on, the cooks are almost done making Master Reaver's breakfast.  We need to get the silverware ready."

„Coming!", she called before quickly fastening the mask to her garter and rushing out.

Jack remained silent throughout the day, but she could feel the mask buzzing with anger every time Reaver gave her an order or the other servants made jokes about beatings. Feeling his rage made her realize just how used she had gotten to this atrocious treatment, and she felt appalled with herself for letting it get that far. But it also caused her to formulate a plan to put an end to all of this… and fully reunite her with Jack.

Good thing that she used to have trouble sleeping; a few sleeping pills, powderized and mixed into Reaver‘s supper, should have him pretty reliably knocked out by now. That would hopefully buy her enough time to go through with her plan.

The bedroom door opened with a quiet creak. She froze and listened, but the sound was answered by nothing but Reaver‘s quiet snoring.

Slowly, one step at a time, she crept up to his bedside. Still no reaction. Then she carefully unfastened the mask under her dress and leaned over him.

Every heartbeat seemed to be an eternity. The mask approached his face, slowly…

Reaver could only open his eyes for a split second before she pressed the cold material fully onto his face. He quickly reached under his pillow, for his gun, but by the time his fingers touched it, it was already too late.

His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a crushing hug.

„Finally“, Jack purred in his soft voice. „It‘s been so long.“

She exhaled the air she hadn‘t realized she‘d been holding in a long, relieved sigh.

Jack was back, and Reaver was no more.

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

When Past and Present meet Chapter 2

The next day was one of her favourite days of the week. Market Day. The day during which she, accompanied by Barry, would leave the suffocating darkness of the mansion behind and run some errants in Bowerstone, which not only gave her some distance from Reaver but also the opportunity to do some shopping of her own. Not really needing anything, she had amassed a nice little stack of savings, and thus she was downright giddy at the thought of getting to treat herself.

Reaver was, of course, someone who considered himself a man of superior taste, so the things she and Barry bought on his behalf were nothing but the best. Fine silk and wines and, him being the hedonist he was, a huge stash of condoms.

„I hate this“, she commented dryly. „The shopkeeper always looks at me funny when I buy the condoms for Master Reaver.“

„He looked at you the way any man would look at a lovely woman.“ Barry waggled his eyebrows at her, causing her to snort in a decidedly unfeminine way. She playfully swatted his arm.

„Hush, you!“

It was a good day, despite the weird look from the shopkeeper. So good in fact that even Barry‘s company seemed less dull than it usually did.

As they walked across the marketplace to get a drink at the Cock in the Crown before heading back home, a loud voice caused her to turn her head. Next to the bridge connecting the marketplace to the road leading to Millfields, a travelling merchant had set up shop. The sign nailed to the roof of the wagon proudly introduced the shop as „Murgo II‘s Magical Marvels“, and a scruffy looking, middle aged man stood underneath that, loudly trying to peddle a ‚magical mirror‘ to the masses.

Someone took the bait, and she shook her head and wanted to turn away, but then he got out the next item.

„Next, we have this mask. Some people say this mask is cursed, and the evil spirit within will possess anyone foolish enough to don it. But if your spirit is strong enough to withstand its whispers, it makes for a fabulous conversation starter!“

Her head spun around so quickly it felt like she snapped her own neck. Then she hurried over, a very frazzled Barry in tow. She elbowed her way through the crowd, and then she saw the mask.

She would have recognized it… would have recognized HIM anywhere. Slightly worn white material, the upper half being covered in a colorful pattern of red and purple, very reminiscent of stained glass windows.

She looked around. Surely, SOMEONE in the crowd had to know what this was? How dangerous it truly was? It had been 550 years, but surely they couldn‘t have forgotten him completely, could they?

But there were no fearful murmurs, just a few derisive comments doubting the truthfulness of the merchant‘s claims.

„That‘s just junk“, Barry said. „Come on, let‘s get a drink, I‘m parched.“

She didn‘t pay any attention to him. She just got closer to the wagon, shoving even more onlookers out of the way. „How much?“, she inquired.

The merchant blinked, surprised that she didn‘t even let him finish his speech about all of the mysterious properties this item allegedly possessed. But he quickly caught himself again.

„Ah, young lady, I see that you have a keen eye! Of course, a powerful object like this has its price-“

„How. Much?“, she repeated, putting extra emphasis on each word.

The merchant took out a dirty, tattered hankerchief and wiped his sweaty forehead with it. „I see that you are a woman of action, not of words. Alright then, how about 100 gold pieces?“

The crowd laughed mockingly, but she was already grabbing her purse.

„Hey, don‘t spend your money on this crap!“ Barry grabbed her wrist. „Come on, you spent so long saving up. Why not buy yourself a nice new dress instead? Something that really shows off your bea-“

„Barry, get your hands off me or I swear to whatever deity you may believe in that I will snap your wrist.“

He flinched and pulled his hand back like he just burned himself, while she got out a satchel with the 100 goldpieces the merchant had requested. It meant giving away most of her savings but that was worth it. Both gold and mask swapped owners and while Murgo assured her that she had made the right decision, she just took the mask into her hands. The material was unnaturally cold, just like she remembered, and smooth to the touch. She pressed it against her chest.

„We can go now“, she told Barry very matter-of-factly.

„Okay“, he replied flatly, still sounding offended at her little outburst.

Her remaining money was just enough for some beer at the tavern, and as a token of apology, she offered to treat Barry to a drink.

While they sat at one of the tables, sorrounded by their shopping and quietly sipping their drinks, she took a closer look at the mask. Yes, it was him. No replica, no fake. The coldness of the material that barely hid the buzzing of the energy within the mask… it had to be him.

She looked up briefly to see Barry eyeing the very well-built barmaid, then focused her attention on the mask again, and deep affection warmed her heart. It had been so long. And now, after five and a half centuries, she finally held a glimmer of hope in her hand.

„What is it about this mask?“, Barry finally asked, after tearing his eyes away from the waitress.

She bit her lip. There was no way she would tell him the truth; he would think she had gone insane. „Well… it‘s pretty, isn‘t it?“

„More creepy than pretty, to be honest.“

She looked away. „Well, to tell you the truth: It reminds me of someone I once knew. Someone who was…. Very dear to me.“

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. „That makes it worse. Never spend money on something that reminds you of a painful past.“

„What do you know about painful pasts?“

„I‘m an orphan, remember?“

She bit her tongue. „Right. Sorry.“

He looked to his empty tankard and shook his head. „Anyway, we should probably head back home. I don‘t wanna risk a beating for being late.“

„Same here.“

The same evening, once everyone else in the mansion had gone to bed, she took out the mask again. Her heart was racing, and her hands shaking. Her eyes were burning with tears, when she whispered his name in hopes of an answer.

Deafening silence, and the burning in her eyes became stronger, with the first drops forming on her lashes. She let herself drop onto her bed, pressing the mask to her quivering chest.

„It‘s not like you to cry that easily, my dear.“

She shot up, staring at the mask, tears of despair now turning into tears of joy. „Jack…!“

[selfshipwritingandstuff]

When Past and Present meet Chapter 1

Albion had changed so much in the past 550 years, and yet somehow hadn‘t changed at all. Its inhabitants were as they had always been; very, very… simple, and the invention of firearms and machinery hadn’t changed that.

These five and a half centuries had given her plenty of time to find out what best numbed her pain. Alcohol had stopped doing the trick a long time ago, there was nobody in this country interesting enough to get her mind off things, so the only thing she thought to do was work.

She had no idea what had possessed her to apply as a maid at Reaver‘s mansion, but she had now been working there for five years. She detested the man with her entire being. Everything about him caused her almost physical revulsion.

And yet, as so many other nights, she found herself in his bed. Disgust aside, while his youthful face showed no sign of the centuries of his existence, his many years of experience showed in bed. A skillful lover, perhaps the only person in all of Albion who even came close to him.

She played the part of the smitten, submissive girl, just like he liked it, like she was an actress in a rather scandalous play. Concentrating on not breaking character at least stopped her thoughts from going in circles and coming back to him over and over again. She tried to see it as just another service that Reaver paid her for, if the measly few goldpieces he deigned to part with on payday could even reasonably be called a „wage“.

She sighed, trying to fight down the by now familiar feeling of shame when she slid out of Reaver‘s bed, gathered up her clothes and left. Like all of the servants employed by him, she knew that making unnecessary noise would be unwise; he tended to be particularly bad tempered when woken up. The lashes from last time, just a week before, were a reminder of that; she had tripped on something on the way out and Reaver had not reacted well.

Look at me, she thought. He would have never allowed me to be treated like this.

There it was again, he was sneaking back into her thoughts like a thief in the night. She returned to the tiny, cramped closet that was her „room“ and sank down on her bed, which was the only piece of furniture that even fit in there. Her fingers slid under the pillow, finding the rough, sharp edge of her most prized possession: An ornate obsidian dagger.

Obsidian wasn‘t even used for making weapons anymore. It was a tradition that had died out around the time firearms were invented. While swords were still very much being used, their different types had fallen out of fashion.

In a sudden impulse, she unsheathed it and let the tip of her index finger dance across the edge. It was so sharp she didn‘t even feel the cut, only saw it once a thick bead of blood ran down her finger. She watched it, fascinated. Blood dripping off a black edge… He had loved this. Rubies dripping from a blade as dark as the Void itself. It had been the reason why he had come to Albion in the first place.

She shook her head, shook off the thought of him, sheathed the dagger and hid it again; who knew what Reaver would do if he knew that she owned something like this. Not only would it probably be worrying for him that his servant was hiding a weapon from him, but an antique and carefully crafted weapon like this one would sell for an outrageous amount of money. And if there was one thing Reaver truly loved, from the bottom of his heart, it was money. Money and himself that is.

Someone knocked on the door and, already suspecting who it was, she said:„Come in.“

Barry Hatch, another one of Reaver‘s servants, stepped it. Barry was a short, scraggy man with bright orange hair and mismatched eyes; probably the most interesting thing about him. Like most people in Albion, he didn‘t really have anything interesting to say, but he was much more pleasant company than Reaver nonetheless.

„I know Master Reaver is just done with you, but I was wondering if you might have some energy left?“ The grin on his face indicated that his proposal was supposed to excite her.

She sighed. Barry was just as much of a pervert as Reaver, but she actually minded it less with him. Sex was one of the very few joys he had; Reaver had plucked him from Bowerstone‘s orphanage when he was just a boy and he had never known a life outside of being slapped around by the heartless buisnessman. So she almost felt obligated to provide the poor bastard with at least some happiness in his life. Even if she didn‘t get any out of it.

„Sure. Come here.“

Barry never lasted long. Barely ten minutes later, he was fast asleep, still on top of her, and she pet his hair while staring off into the distance.

But still, she couldn‘t stop thinking about the past. It had gotten worse lately; even the few things that used to reliably distract her didn‘t provide her relief from her mourning anymore. She looked at the man sleeping on top of her, and to the tiny chamber, and wondered if this was what her life had become. Was her existence now just as vapid and meanlingless as that of any other mortal?

Or was that just the lot of immortals? To indulge in life‘s joys until they became sick of it and instead turned to violence in order to feel any spark of life within them?

Over these thoughts, she slowly drifted off, not knowing that the very moment she closed her eyes, a merchant‘s ship entered Bowerstone‘s harbor. And one of the merchants on it carried the key to all of her dreams.

A certain mask.