#imagine changing entire sentences and vocal tones just to try to avoid it

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

If there is at least one thing I can credit FE for doing better than Tales in localization, it's not trying to actively go out of their way for an entire game to avoid subtext or direct text between two men that is romantic or implied romantic. Funny when it's so present that the attempt doesn't even work; infuriating that it was attempted to begin with.

So as much as I often have issues with some of FE's localizations, at least they have a leg up on loc Tales for that.

[polkahotness]

SHORTAKI WEEK DAY 1

FFN // AO3 

               Long Gone

Sometimes when I look at Helga, it's difficult to remember what it was like before we admitted our feelings for each other. Granted, Helga had admitted her feelings to me countless times and on numerous different occasions, but I had never been all that great at that sort of thing in response.

I supposed that my 'love language' just wasn't the same as hers and it made navigating through our relationship a tumultuous and difficult process at times.

Helga had always been so good with words—her feelings, though oftentimes hidden deep inside, were always so well-articulated. When she wanted to give up the truth behind them, her sentences were thoughtful; poetic, and they came out of her mouth with ease, despite inwardly struggling with that piece of vulnerability.

But me?

It seemed that I still hadn't quite figured out how to best voice my feelings.

It wasn't that I had a problem voicing them—I had no issue whatsoever telling Helga, Gerald, my next-door neighbor, or the entire world how I felt about her. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that I couldn't do it well. My attempts were often clumsy, and I had the tendency to ramble and stumble over each word like I was once again learning how to speak for the first time in my life.

Thankfully, Helga never held it against me. In fact, her response to my feeble attempts usually sounded something like, "Still struggling with that word thing, are we, footballhead?" Then she'd let out this soft little laugh while I blushed and would open my mouth to try and dispute her, though she never let me get that far. "I get it, babe. You love me. And I love you—" then she'd pause and smack my butt while following it up with, "—and that cute little ass of yours."

A lifetime of confusing feelings had changed a lot in the dynamic between Helga and myself—the last six of those years cementing our relationship in a way that 10-year-old-me could have never imagined.

We were the couple people oogled over. Our stories of the bully and the victim turning into lovers was one for the ages, and we never grew tired of talking about it or reminiscing over the foolish children we once were. While anyone with eyes could see the love that we held for one another, it was always Helga who seemed to vocalize it best. As the self-appointed designated speaker, she was usually the one who told our complicated love story as I draped my arm over her shoulders to hold her into me wherever it was that we sat.

Helga had figured out in our time together that I was the shower, and not the teller. My love for her looked like me making dinner when I knew she had a hard day at work and would be too tired to even heat up a tv dinner. It looked like me rubbing her feet while she lay unsuspecting on the couch with her legs on my lap as we binge-watched another series. My love was shown through buying her that book she'd been talking about for three weeks because it was the long-awaited follow-up to her favorite author's poetry book—and I'd even gotten the limited edition copy with the ornately designed cover and gold-lined pages because, while she'd never say it, I knew she preferred the special copy over the boring (and cheaper) paperback version.

It was all of those little things and more that told Helga how much I loved her. But all of those little things could never express what I needed to tell her next. The emotions and feelings I had to say this time around would require me to put my strengths of showing and my weaknesses of telling together so I could be bolder than I'd ever been before.

Because there was nothing in the world that I wouldn't do for her.

It may have taken us a while to realize just how deeply our love for one another went. Even after we'd admitted our feelings, we struggled to get to a place where we mutually realized we were each other's end game. I'm sure Helga already knew this fact because she seemed to have always known, even when we were children, but me? It had taken me much longer.

With Helga, I was always just a few steps behind.

But it was okay.

Helga always managed to wait patiently…always somehow knowing that I was making my way to her.

Throughout our years of syncopated dating habits, a funny thing happened that I could never push away. Helga never left my mind. No matter where I was or what I was doing with who, Helga always remained. It may have taken until we both hit 21 for the stars to officially align, but that night six years ago when we reconnected on our favorite bar's balcony that overlooked the bright lights of Hillwood… that night forever changed my life.

I could only hope it would provide that same luck tonight as we stood together, once again, on the bar's balcony while looking out at our hometown on a quiet autumn evening.

"You know, Arnoldo," Helga said after taking a swig from the bottle she was holding, "I was kind of surprised you wanted to come to this joint on our anniversary of all days."

Smirking at her statement, I shrugged my shoulders. "The balcony here is nice. I like looking out at the city, don't you?"

"Well, sure," she replied while focusing her attention out on the dotted lights of the faraway buildings that made up the skyline. "But we could have easily done it from somewhere less…" Twisting her body, she glanced behind herself towards the hubbub of noise from within the bar. Turning back around, she returned her gaze outward while finishing her sentiment. "I don't know, somewhere less… cheesy."

"Cheesy?" I intoned while eyeing her carefully. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know," she simply said while fixating her eyes ahead without so much as a flinch in my direction. "Taking me to the same place where we first 'officially' rekindled our relationship. I guess I would have thought you'd pick some fancy-pants restaurant to propose to me at."

My jaw instinctively dropped as I stared at Helga with my mouth agape.

Slowly she turned her head to look at me with a wicked grin. "I like the sentimentality part though," she offered as some kind of consolation prize. "But if you were to take us back somewhere and be all romantic by talking about the past, I would have chosen P.S 118 or something. Now that's a good throwback."

I was still in shock as she spoke; my mind not comprehending that Helga had so easily figured out my plans and then called me out on them without so much as a care in the world.

It seemed that, yet again, Helga was still one step ahead of me.

"But you… how did you… but," I shook my head while struggling to force out a somewhat-coherent response. "Didn't you, how could you have—"

"Arnold," she deadpanned, though a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of her lips, "You were at Gerald's for four hours the other day. You really think I didn't hear about your little 'plans' from Phoebe?"

"Phoebe told you?" I repeated in shock. "Phoebe. She's smarter than that, Helga. Why on earth would she think it was okay to tell you something this important?!" I exclaimed and Helga remained unphased; merely tilting her head in thought before looking away from me again.

Casually, she explained, "I never said she thought it was okay. I mean, criminy, I practically had to force it out of her."

"And you did that because…?"

Helga let out a chuckle before fully turning her entire body to face me directly. "I've been waiting for you to propose to me for years now, Arnold. Years." I could feel heat beginning to rise and fill in my cheeks. "Honestly, I was about ready to propose to you, and then Phoebe kept telling me that I couldn't do that because our anniversary was coming up so then I told her that it was the perfect time to propose, then one thing led to another and—"

"She didn't actually tell you, then, did she." I finished for her in a statement rather than a question, and Helga let out a heavy sigh.

"She didn't have to tell me," Helga said with a twinge of humor beneath her tone. "By the way she acted, I knew immediately what you were up to."

Silence settled between us and I fought the urge to explode in anger, frustration, and sheer disappointment. How was it that I was still so incapable of surprising Helga? How was it that even after all of this time, I was still that dense little boy unable to catch up to Helga and be the first to admit something for once.

How was it that I was somehow perpetually in the fourth grade, avoiding acting on my feelings?

Impulsively, I grabbed Helga's hand and began pulling her towards the inside of the bar, "C'mon," I told her as she followed along with an inquisitive set of eyes. "We're going somewhere."

"Where?" She scoffed out. "I thought you were going to ask me to marry you…"

"Oh, I am," I answered immediately and in a firm tone. "But I'm not doing it here."

"Ahh, a field trip, I see," Helga replied as we dodged and weaved our way through the drunken crowd of dancers cluttering the small bar. "And just where is it you have decided to take me for this romantic gesture?"

"Somewhere you won't be expecting this time," I told her with about 86% certainty. "At least… I hope."

As she set her half-empty bottle on a table that we passed by in pursuit of the door out, we finally exited the bar and began making our way down the sidewalk. I led us forward with determination while Helga trailed along in my wake; her longer legs allowing her to keep at my pace with ease.

"Seriously, what are you up to, Hair Boy?" Her tone was becoming almost nervous, and it only heightened my confidence that this new destination was where I should have brought her in the first place. It was a deep-seeded memory that we hadn't discussed since we were teenagers. This had to be the perfect place for a proposal.

This had to be it.

Continuing to drag her along, Helga's eyes shifted to take in her surroundings. Her brows furrowed as she tried to piece together the strange environment that I was leading her through—an old part of Hillwood that had been long forgotten. Most everything on each block had either been abandoned or demolished; the promises of new complexes and mini-malls now only graffitied rubble lost to the recent economic recession.

"Do you even know where we are?" Helga continued to try and coax my true purpose out of me. "You do realize that if we're lost, I am not paying for the taxi back."

It was a backhanded joke that signaled Helga was out of her element. I knew her tactics by now and she was currently baffled as to what was in store. The fact that I was going to propose tonight was already out in the open and there was no pretending it wasn't still going to happen. The way it was going to happen, however… now that was going to be vastly different.

I just hoped I was going to be able to pull it off. I didn't exactly have the greatest track record with speaking my feelings on the fly, but maybe that was for the best. In fact, by doing this completely unrehearsed, Helga would know that my words—as jumbled and clunky as they may come out—would be directly from the heart, my heart. Unrehearsed. Unpolished. Unfiltered.

Pulling Helga to a stop as we reached the corner of an unassuming block hidden in the outskirts of Hillwood, the two of us stood in place in front of a small building. Inside the window was a faded, 'For Lease' sign, and the cement that made up the foundation was filled with cracks that had allowed wild weeds to spurt from the ground and wiggle their way up towards the sky. At first glance, the building was old and decrepit—absolutely nothing special and certainly not somewhere worthy of a marriage proposal.

Glancing around at where I'd brought her, Helga eyed the building carefully before slowly turning to face me. "An abandoned building? What's so special about this place? There's nothing here."

"Exactly," I answered as Helga's brow raised in curiosity. "There isn't anything here. Not now, anyway." Looking over my shoulder, I gestured towards the dilapidated structure before continuing my thought. "It's been a lot of different things in the past, though."

"Oh really?" Helga humored me while letting go of my hand to cross her arms loosely over her chest. "Like what?"

"A clothing boutique. A tailoring company. I'm pretty sure there was a craft store in here too at one point—"

"What in the hell does any of that have to do with—" Helga interrupted, though I didn't allow her to keep talking.

Instead, I finished my sentence by asserting dominance and talking over her as she unsuccessfully tried to speak over me. "—but before all of that, this was a daycare."

Helga's eyes widened minimally, though she remained silent as if to give me the chance to continue.

And that's exactly what I did.

"Not so much a daycare as it was a pre-school, though."

More silence settled between us as Helga's eyes drifted from mine to look at the run-down building she hadn't recognized. "Urban Tots," she muttered out as though it were an afterthought rather than a declaration of acknowledgement.

At her fixation towards our old pre-school, I took the opportunity to shakily get down on one knee; my hand fumbling to reach the small box I'd been hiding inside the pocket of the jeans I was wearing. Pulling it out, Helga's eyes returned to me; water gathering at the base of her vision as she looked down at me with laser-focus.

"Helga," I began precariously, though I tried to keep myself calm as I turned the blue-velvet box over and over in my hands anxiously. "As you've proven tonight, you are and always have been one step ahead of me. Since the moment we met, something in you had the wherewithal to know that we weren't just classmates in some random neighborhood in a random city in this random universe we find ourselves living in. Something inside of you knew that we were more than that. It knew… you knew that we were so much more, that we were… that we are, soulmates."

"Arnold," Helga breathed out, but I held up a finger to stop her from saying anything else and throwing me off of my groove.

"Do you remember when we were fifteen?" I started and Helga smirked while staring at me incredulously. "You told me that you had loved me from the moment you first saw me which, to be fair, wasn't the first time you'd told me that, but I asked you when that was, when you had first seen me."

A small laugh escaped Helga as she recalled the moment I was referencing. "You'd never asked me that before. It was a stupid question."

"Not really," I countered while adjusting from where I knelt on the pavement; my knee suddenly telling me that I'd chosen the wrong time to begin kneeling. Unfortunately, it was definitely too late now to get back up, so I instead took a deep breath to calm my angry kneecap and proceeded with my story. "It's funny because the memories that I have of you and things you've done or random conversations and moments we've shared… they're different than your memories."

"How do you figure?" Helga pressed and I knitted my brows together while trying to find the most effective way to explain my thoughts.

"You have a whole other set of memories that I don't remember because, at the time, they didn't mean anything to me yet. Just like some of my memories don't align with yours because they weren't as significant to you as they were to me in that moment." I took in a sharp breath before finalizing, "A lot of your memories are different because you've known about us a lot longer than I ever did."

"Long before there even was an us, you dingus," Helga chuckled out, and I rolled my eyes at her comment.

"Anyway," I emphasized before pressing onward. "You told me all about that day, that day back at Urban Tots when we apparently first met—a memory I had never actively remembered but suddenly did as you told your side of the story. It was one of the first times you broke down that wall, completely destroyed it to bare your soul to me without insults or nicknames or jokes to cover up the raw truth. You told me about what happened before you got to the pre-school, about Olga and your parents and the rain and your lunch and-and…"

I had to stop myself because the rambling had begun to rear its ugly head. Taking a moment to collect myself, I inhaled deeply before re-routing my conversational direction so I could get back on track with the task at hand.

"I never forgot that story," I admitted while looking down at the ring box I was still playing with in my grip. "You went back to the casual bullying and nicknames, both of us knowing how we felt about each other, but I never forgot that story. Each night I'd lay in my bed staring up through the skylight at the stars and imagine that memory I'd forgotten over and over again. Your pink overalls covered in mud. That sad look in your eye. It was like you'd never been loved… like you didn't know what it meant to be loved or to love another person."

Helga chewed on her lip for a moment as though trying to find the right thing to say—something she didn't typically struggle with. After a moment, she settled on, "What's your point. Aren't proposals supposed to be romantic or something? Not some… excuse to go drudging up my messed-up past and all of the memories that I've worked really hard to forget—"

"I know, I know," I tried to subdue her before she could indulge any further in the anger that was rapidly bubbling up inside of her. "What I am saying, is that the little girl who stood right here all of those years ago… that unloved toddler is gone now, Helga. She's long gone, okay?"

Her deep azure gaze bore into me as I kept talking; my knee now completely numbed from any pain or feeling as my body began to follow suit from nervousness alone. "The woman who stands before me isstill the same feisty, stubborn, thoughtful, smart, talented… and amazing person she has always been, but unloved?" I shook my head a couple of times. "That girl from long ago and the woman of now and forevermore is not unloved. She never will be or feel unloved, ever again. And that's something that I can and do promise you."

With that, I at last presented the box and carefully opened it to reveal a golden engagement ring with an opal at its center. Surrounding the stone was a halo of small diamonds; the ring itself appearing as the most dazzling of flowers attached to a plain gold band. The ring sparkled effortlessly under the glow of the moonlight, though the sky threatened its romantic lighting with oncoming and fast-moving storm clouds.

As Helga's eyes went back and forth between the ring and myself, I kept talking; the next set of words something I had always planned to say no matter where I ended up proposing. "Helga G. Pataki, you have been my bully for as long as I can remember. You teased me relentlessly and never stopped giving me attention, no matter how much I thought I didn't want it. You confessed to me time after time that you loved me and yet, even after all of this time, I've never confessed how I feel to you—at least, not entirely. So, I guess… well… here goes."

Nodding her head for me to keep going, she pressed her lips together in a tight line as though trying to hold back the tears I could see pooling in her eyes.

"I love you. I'm head over heels, wildly, desperately, endlessly in love with you, Helga," my words were earnest; genuine. Each sentence I said with the utmost care and sincerity. "I don't just want to have you in my life, I need you in my life. I need your nicknames, your teasing, your each and every thought, your embrace… your everything because you are my everything. And this ring—" I took it out of its box and held out the specifically-chosen engagement ring for her approval, "—I chose it for a reason."

"The opal," I said while using my other hand to point to the main stone, "it's iridescent. It looks like one color, but it never really ever stays that way. It changes and evolves and looks different under whatever light is shining on it—and yet it always somehow stays the same. And that's us. That's our love. We've always loved each other. It may have looked different as we grew, but it's always been there. And if you marry me… I promise that it will always continue to be there."

Swallowing hard, Helga let out a tidbit of her own, "I thought opals had to do with love and passion," she paused for a moment before adding, "and desire. Seduction. Are you trying to get in my pants, Shortman?"

"Always," I admitted which made Helga giggle; a few stray tears jiggling loose from her laughter. "But yes, those are the other reasons why I picked it. Every time you look down at this stone, you will know that I love you. That I desire you and to be with you. That I want you passionately in every meaning and interpretation of the word. That I will be faithful, and loyal until my very last breath. With this ring… I promise that you will never, ever, ever spend another second of your life being a muddy little girl who doesn't know what love is. I will spend every moment of my life proving to you and showing you and making up for all of those times when you needed love and didn't have it."

The two of us stared at each other as I held the ring out towards her, my arm growing more tired with each second that passed. Our eyes remained locked on one another as eons, and decades, and lifetimes seemed to happen while I agonized over her answer. Why wasn't she saying yes? I'd shown her the ring… she knew what I was doing… so why hadn't she accepted yet? Was she not going to accept? Worry fluttered through my mind as a sudden thought filled my senses, What if she doesn't want to get married?

As I lost myself in my thoughts, the clearing of Helga's throat brought me back to reality; her eyes no longer wet with tears and instead looking down at me skeptically. "Hey Arnold?" She asked me and I blinked my eyes a couple of times to refocus my attention on the current moment. "I'd love to say 'yes' here and put on this super sexy and seductive ring you've so thoughtfully picked out for me—"

"Well, my mom helped…"

"Of course Stella did," Helga affirmed with a smirk before sucking in a deep breath of air. "But the whole point of a marriage proposal, as nice as your words were and all… well, you kind of left out one very, very important part."

"…huh?" was all I could manage as I stared up at her in horror.

A sly smile spread across Helga's face. "You haven't actually asked me anything yet."

"Oh god," I mumbled while shutting my eyes in utter embarrassment. "Oh, god, I just… I got so caught up in all of this and then I kneeled way too early—"

"I know!" Helga exclaimed in amusement. "Your knee must be killing you right now."

"Eh," I quickly dismissed, "I stopped having feeling in my kneecap about a minute in so you might need to help me up—"

"Because you're an old man, now. Yeah, I know," Helga teased before sighing and tilting her head slightly. "You're only getting older the longer you wait, Footballhead."

"Yeah. Yes, of course. Right. Okay," pushing through the numbness of my knee and the nervousness I still felt for no reason at all, I held the ring out once again and looked deep into Helga's ocean blue eyes. "Helga G. Pataki. Will you marry me?"

Her smile widened to reveal a toothy grin. "Criminy, Arnold. I thought you'd never ask."

As I slipped the ring onto its new home of Helga's finger, she helped to yank me up from where I'd potentially done permanent damage to my left knee.

I didn't even care.

From where the two of us kissed under the moonlight at what remained of Urban Tots Pre-School, I knew that the Helga and Arnold who had once occupied this exact spot years ago were long gone. And as the sky at last opened up, allowing buckets of rain to downpour on us, we laughed while getting soaked to the bone because this time, the rain itself didn't matter.

The only umbrella Helga needed was one made entirely of love. And, just like when we were mere toddlers, I was happy to provide it for her. Not only in the rain, but through every storm we may weather and every warm day that is enjoyed safely under the shade.

For Helga, I was prepared to hold that umbrella over her for the rest of our lives.

And I couldn't wait.

[shinglescat]

This is the end, yay.

Previous or  all stories at once. 

The voice of the Prince still lingered in her head. The bizarre time in his custody – something she could’ve never imagined to happen; not a single lesson from her grandmother ever prepared her for this. The Prince… was rather gentle towards her, caring even, as far as you can call a Daedra caring; she even thought this isn’t him, someone else, someone but Molag Bal, but the longer she spent her time keeping him company, the more she saw behind the friendly façade. He noticed, but never acknowledged it, sticking with this game of sheer politeness and kindness, still.

He never forced her into anything, always provided her with new things to do and discover. Upon her arrival, the Prince delivered her of the wicked illness of his own creation – she almost lost herself to the thirst for blood that she sworn to never sate. She must’ve been pathetic enough for him to take pity on her. A benevolent ruler of his own dark kingdom, treating her like the most esteemed guest.

She would lie to herself if she said this wasn’t an important time in her life, that she regrets it. Molag Bal taught her lots of things, most of which were so surreal even her psijic grandmother had no idea about. In between the lessons, they used to have normal conversations, and the man would usually tell her a story of a kind and give her his insight into various events that ever happened. The things he said – the really disturbing things – she had a hard time believing him, yet he made it all sound so right, so logical…  

She looked at the house down the street – the family’s that took her cousin in, their house. It was so tiny and so humble; she’s never seen them like that – too used to the comfort of the Sorano estate, too used to its hearth, its smells, its looks and the atmosphere of luxury; the cold and harsh climate made her look back at what she’s given up – the warm and ever sunny Isles. Will she ever see her home again?

“You are the only one I can trust with this,” the Prince would to tell her, “He needs you now the most he ever needed you, he needs your guidance”. What made him think so, she wondered, of all people to entrust this to her – to a scared and a broken girl. He saw the looks she gave him, the mistrust in her eyes, yet still… Livaen sighed, stopping in front of the door, pressing her forehead into the dried out wood. What makes her obey his… plea? request? order? She could’ve just stopped, abandoned it all and instead followed her heart on this one. Was she scared of him? Or was she scared of what may happen? It was so easier back home – she had servants to take care of everything, and Esmir herself would decide upon urgent and important matters. Now – it’s just her, her and her dearest cousin, both all grown up. 

She pressed the palm of her hand into the handle, pushing the door forward. A wave of smells rushed into her face, the sweet and meaty tones, warm and homey – so different from what she’s used to. It made her nauseous with nostalgia – it felt like home, but… it was an alien home, someone else’s but hers.

- ...They only have fifty years of time to do everything they want. They don't have a promise of a millennia like you, – Aspen argued, leaning against the wall. This quarrel again, Livaen sighed, they’ve been on it since they’ve returned from the Void a few days ago; it seemed like her cousin got bit in the ass about the dumbest thing in the world. He’s been quite vocal in his discontent about the girls’ departure in the nearest future, even with his strong dislike towards Visenya’s attitude. The girl used to say he just envied her and was jealous of them, the ashen haired man on the other hand was sure Mark was just afraid to lose them, yet it was only her that saw through it, Livaen thought. His usual phlegmatic nature, his temperament all of a sudden shifted towards that of a more choleric nature, making the elf unusually snappy and angry, reactive and irrational; almost a polar opposite of himself. And as another addition to that – the gold of his skin has completely faded, replaced with porcelain instead – it didn’t go unnoticed by anyone this time: the parents were concerned about his wellbeing, believing he might’ve contracted a disease of sorts that made him look and behave like this, yet… – Both Meltem and Visenya have their own lives now, they can't be forever at your side, – he moved closer to the elf, his palm touching Mark’s forehead. The kid flinched at that barely noticeable, but remained still, – You have a fever, – the man concluded, making Livaen cringe at that – the man was so over the top sometimes, it made the girl want to vomit.

- And will you stay with me for a millennia? – Mark asked, anger and poison leaking from his voice, tired of everything – he’s been so restless lately, – Of course you won't, – he smirked, – I don't even know how old you are, might just fucking leave me as well before you die too, – he threw his arm into the air as if to make a statement, turning around himself, his voice faltering – the last part of the sentence ended up being silent. The elf went straight for the door, only now noticing the witness to the argument, and the girl instantly felt bad about it – for not interrupting them beforehand. Mark stopped for a moment, as if deciding what to do next, and stormed out of the house as he made his mind.

Livaen looked behind her, the door closed with a loud thud.

- What was this all about this time? – she asked, going to the kitchen table with a small basket full of foodstuffs she got for herself at the market. The man loudly sighed and covered his eyes.

- He’s sick, – he replied, taking a sit on the ladder, – He’s sick, and he doesn’t want to do anything about it.

- He’s always been like that, – she nodded, sitting down on the bench. Meltem had told them that they – she, her now wife Visenya and half-sister Jacqueline – were leaving for Chorrol in a few days. The sisters had a house left from their shared father, no one’s been living in there for quite a few years since his passing, making it stay abandoned for just as long, – I wonder how much their marriage is going to last, – she said quietly to herself, but that didn’t go unheard by the man. He looked at her with a wordless question on his face, – Did he meet him? – she asked instead. Livaen knew the answer herself – the elf did meet the Prince and even had the talk with him, otherwise he wouldn’t have just… changed so much asudden. She asked about it nonetheless – to divert the attention and to avoid any more of the unnecessary drama her question might cause later. Aspen glanced at her, still puzzled, – You are always with him. Did he meet the father? – she repeated the question again, a little bit annoyed. He must have met him, he’s just a coward to do what he’s been told.

- Yes. Yes, he did, but we didn’t tell anyone…?

The girl brushed her hair.

- He.., – she started, trying to explain the thing, gesturing vaguely in front of her, – His blood… it’s acting up. It’s like… if you hold bad emotions locked inside, they will find a way out someday. And he’s got daedric blood in him. He’s… he’s just so confused. I don’t really know, he, – she implied the Prince, – didn’t warn me about the mood swings, – Livaen sighed, getting up from the bench. He did warn her though that she must guide him along this path and be there when he needs her; she must help him understand and reconcile with himself, – We need to find him before it gets worse. Wouldn’t want a psycho on the loose..

They’ve found him under the giant tree, sitting on the bench, facing the old statue of Talos. He buried his face into the palms of his hands, breathing heavily. This was the worst period in his life: the uncertainty, the separation, the revelation – it all hit him at the same time, making his existence insufferable. He had no idea what awaits him in future, he’ll probably have to carry on alone later, for all his loved ones are humans with a lifespan of a burning match… And him being a demi-prince didn’t ease the burden. It all just snowballed and like an avalanche buried him underneath, no way for him to escape this.

Livaen stopped in her tracks near him, observing: he was miserable, she’s never seen him so crushed, so depressed; it seemed like he was about to break apart. And there was nothing she could do on her own to help him, to ease the suffering.

Aspen came close to him, letting his hands into the jet black hair of her cousin. The girl grimaced, for the hundredth time today, it seemed: all these idle touches, glances – it was so disgustingly sweet, mawkish even; her cousin was so in love with the man – it’s going to hurt to bring him back on track later. Maybe she just was jealous, envied him – it was hard for her to think about it: she would banish the thought just before it surfaces in her mind – over and over again, and she didn’t want to admit, too pathetic to own up to her flaws. She never had a feeling just as strong as her cousin’s to this man – this thought about it made her anxious – she never had a chance to experience something like this – to fall in love and be loved in return. Yet her dearest cousin had it all, it seemed, from a caring bride-to-be to some… random hookup. It wasn’t fair; her entire life was planned out for her by their own grandmother – some Alinor nobleman already waiting to get his hands on her fragile frame. She had no say in this, but she just accepted her fate and patiently waited for when it’s time. Livaen snorted at her own thoughts inelegantly: after what she’s been through even arranged marriage would be impossible – who needs a wife that cannot bear children anymore in a society where succession matters most? She suddenly felt disgusted and repulsed: her cousin was so irresponsible to throw himself into someone’s arms like that, especially those of a man; it was selfish. Now that she herself won’t be able to bring a child into this world, he’s the only one who could continue the line, but he instead preferred lust and debauchery… it was her envy speaking – she couldn’t help but turn bitter at what her cousin had and what she’ll never have; it was easy to hate on him, easy to disregard the story behind them both.

- Shit, – she heard Mark swear. He shook his head a little to make the bothering thoughts go away, remaining silent for a moment and allowing himself to enjoy the gentle hands in his hair – a universal medicine for calming down, – I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me, – Livaen rounded the bench to sit near the cousin. He was shaking slightly, as if having a fever, face pale and sick, – I’m just… It’s all so fucking overwhelming, I can’t handle it all, – he grabbed the hands in his hair and pulled onto himself, throwing Aspen’s arms around his neck in an embrace, – It feels like I’m drowning, suffocating, and those cunts don’t help it a bit, – Mark hid his face in the man’s upper arm, letting out a strangled wobbling sigh, – I’m… so sorry, I can’t really control myself at the moment. I’m such an angsty asshole lately, – he laughed hysterically, squeezing Aspen’s hand. He pulled it closer to his face, placing his lips on man’s knuckles, – I’m so fucking sorry for making you see this shit.

This gesture – it almost made the girl gag.

- You need to return to the Void, – Livaen told him, fighting with herself to keep the face straight. She reached his hand, holding it softly but firmly in hers, – Bal told me, it’s going to… make it easier for you, – Mark snorted sarcastically and shook his head. Behind the sarcasm though was pure dread, – I know you are afraid of it. But we can always do it together, right? – she addressed the ashen haired man, and he nodded in agreement. Livaen smiled at her cousin, – You sure do love company.

...

They made their way up to the infinite pillars that were rising from below the water and stretching far into the sky, disappearing somewhere above in the impenetrable veil of mist. It welcomed them with a lone boat bobbing at the end of the platform – no walkway for them to get to the Heart.

The Void was the same today, same as before, yet different: a couple of plants managed to break through the stone and bloom under the ethereal sun: a field blossom and a tiny shrub of rowan. It was something new, but not unheard of – the Void brought leviathans into this world on a whim; it decorated everything with the violet silks… yet flowers? They didn’t look out of place, they looked like they belonged together with the obsidian of stone and the sapphire of waters; it was a strange time to have a spring here though; however, the plants brought hope with them, and thus – some inner peace for a change.

The boat set sail as soon as they got themselves comfortable – Mark sat at the very bow with Aspen just behind him in the middle, Livaen having her place at the stern – it took them farther away from the usual places they’ve been to, maneuvering in between the giant monolithic towers. From a distance a light breeze brought some rogue petals and flowers, making the girl wonder what was so exciting for the Void to start blooming all of a sudden.

It was curious for Livaen: as it turned out the Void is a plane of Oblivion, the girl thought, and the realms always reflect their masters, their emotions and feelings, their state of mind. Would it be possible for them to reflect something else, something the masters hold dear? She will never get to test this theory, but if it was true – something must be influencing the Void to change.

The veil ahead of them started to clear out, leaving patches of white clouds here and there, revealing a lone island in this sea of nothing. Stone thorns swirled all around it, cradling the Heart, creating an impenetrable shell to protect the insides; from behind the stone – a faint glistering – something flowed behind like a silk in the wind. This is the core of the Void – it was blooming in full, its blossom slowly spreading away from the Heart far beyond the thick shroud of mist.

As the boat docked with the island, the only entrance of the Heart opened the way, welcoming the guests with a complete darkness seeping from the inside. Within – the same dark stone with cerulean waters glowing from behind them, illuminating the place softly; in the middle – a basin with ornate smoke circling under the water; above them all – a myriad of suspended in the air crystals reflecting in the stone and lone silks hanging from the thorns. And all around them – flowers’ bloom.

Mark sat near the basin, the others beside him, holding him by his hands. He looked into the water, watching a black swirl of mist emerge from below, enveloping the people with darkness and silence���

...

A woman’s shriek, the one that could tear a soul apart; a pained cry of a baby – it was all covered with a cloud of obscurity – nothing could be seen but felt. “Get it away from me!” – the woman cried, her anger and fear leaking through her voice directed at the newborn soul. She asked for it, begged on her knees; she knew the price she had to pay. She thought it would make her stronger, thought it would open new prospects. She got what she wanted; now – she does not want it anymore, too scared of it. “Get rid of it!” – could be heard echoing in the darkness, voice decaying quickly.

A bright flash, and a white light engulfed it all, slowly fading to reveal a snowy forest in the middle of winter: bright setting sun lighting the snowdrifts, reds and oranges scattering through clear frozen crystals. Under a tree – a roll of fabric lied, tiny golden hands showing from under the thin blanket. The baby cried, loud at first, calling for its impending doom: if it’s not the frost to take its live, then wolves; its bright and cold umber eyes red from the tears. As the sun went lower – the cries turned silent. The gold of the skin faded, now sick and blueish, cold quickly creeping to clench its grasp around the tiny heart and claim it. “Here we go”, someone came over to rescue the child as if they knew it would be here at the mercy of the fate. A man held the child in his arms, gently stroking the frozen face until the red of blood started flowing again, bringing back the fading life into the newborn. “It is decided then”, a cold and quiet voice of a woman spoke, as she appeared before the man. She looked at the child with a genuine smile, stroking its forehead with her finger – the child already opened the eyes, beaming at its saviors – the man smiled in return too, too hard to resist, hiding the smile behind a frown the next moment. “Name the boy”, the woman commanded. “Markus”, the man said, “Now let’s get you home”, he finished, as the memory was enveloped into a dark cloud only to reveal another one.

There wasn’t a flash this time, just careful fade from black to the warm orange of a fireplace, candles that lit up the room, that lit up the two figures standing near a wall. One was the man from before, the other – an unknown woman… the mother, the cowardly mother. A strong grip on her neck prevented her from moving, as the man was looming over her like a menacing shadow, sparks crackling dangerously between the fingers of his other hand. “Try this again,” he said, the memory of the abandoned child in the snows too vivid to forget, “and you will suffer a worse fate”, he warned her. It wasn’t the first time the woman did this, and it won’t be the last – she hates the child, she dreads it with an unreasonable fear. The demonic child, as she called him to justify her actions; she never listens to the warnings, always does what she wants only to be severely punished in the end. “Do not forget, my darling, your soul belongs to me”, he said for the hundredth time already, as the mother couldn’t understand that there was no deliverance from this anymore. “The worse you make his life – the worse yours is going to become”, the man had to let go, as the boy creeped up to him, starving for attention. “Why don’t you take your damned spawn with you?” the woman spat, watching the father caress the son in his hands. “My spawn?” the man laughed wickedly, the child echoing him lightly – the complete opposite of his father, the innocence – kissing the boy’s head. “You begged me for it, and now the least you can do is to be a decent mother”, he finished, letting the memory drift away.

The next memory burst open, black mist leaking out of it, bringing the feel of dread and desperation, filling the place to the brim with pain and misery. The sharp smell of blood, the dampness of endless tears, a silent cry still lingering in the air. And there he was, still infant, lying on the cold stone floor alone and unmoving. It was the mother again – too much of a coward to put an end to his miserable life, to end the agony and torment of her own son; she hated the way he looked at her. He wanted to cry, but no sound escaped him, no tear left his eyes – there were none left, all wasted already to the never-ending woe. A gentle breeze, and from somewhere above a moonlight shone through, serving as the only beacon of light as the jet black shadows crawled towards the child only to be broken by the man appearing from the darkness. The boy couldn’t see anymore but feel, reaching out to the gloom man with his tiny golden arms; the father nestling him up into an embrace to soothe the pain. He stroked son’s face softly, lightly touching the fluff of the lashes – the kid would have probably giggled at the touch, yet not a sound came from him. The boy opened his eyes, slowly, revealing the wounds inflicted upon – no more the noble of umber, only crimson of blood. The man cradled the child, soothing the sore eyes; a moment later – and the moonlight replaced the gore, shining bright silver in the sea of darkness, gleaming still through the thickening mist.

“And what is it that you want, Stone-Fire?” a female voice spoke – the grandmother, sounding through the clearing memories. It was a surprise for her – to see such a guest in her home. “I could tell where your daughter is, and in return you would owe me a favor”, the man replied, holding the details a secret. He wasn’t desperate, just… considerate. What he had seen was the last straw for him – the mother would never change; it was the right time to change the players before something regrettable happens. “I’m listening…” Soldiers in black and gold armors dragged out a woman out of her house, throwing her in the middle of town’s plaza for everyone to see. The golden skin, pointy ears – it looked like a spectacle, a warning for any other that would want to become a renegade, a message to their own kin of the dangers of betrayal. A tall woman with a skin of bronze commanded the parade – it was her daughter lying there, trashing around and spitting out curses. Near the commander another man stood, wide in his shoulders, skin of copper, holding the child found in the basement – his bright silver eyes looking at the mother with dread and sorrow. “Mother! Please!” the woman plead, as the grandmother approached her, slapping her across the face. “You should have thought about your life before you made a run”, she told her daughter, holding her by her hair. The woman was scared, afraid for her own life; she didn’t want to die, not yet. She franticly looked around only to find her dearest husband making his escape with their firstborn; he didn’t even tried to free her, to help her, just left her at the mercy of these people. “Orlan!” the grandmother commanded to the copper-skinned man, “He doesn’t need to see this, turn around”. The man did as told, only tiny golden arms reaching out to the mother as he turned around – the last thing the woman saw, before the grandmother slit her throat, slowly. The blood rushed from her neck and onto the ground like tsunami flooding the land, painting it crimson.

The crimson mist swirled, forming the blood red poppies on a field of gold. Two girls ran around a tree: one with a skin of finest porcelain, hair of raven wing, the other with a skin of gold, hair dark as night. Under the tree the boy dreamed, blessed smile on his face. “Markus!” the raven-haired girl stopped by, taking his hands in hers, tugging the boy onto herself, “Join us!” she said, grabbing the other girl by hand, locking them into a circle and spinning as fast as they could go, red petals flying around softly, taken up into the air by the whirlwind of fun. They broke the circle then, falling on the ground – golden grass was their carpet, their joyous laughter ever so loud. A golden cloud descended from above, forming a male figure – the father; the kids squeaked, cheerful, rushing to the man. He caught the boy in his arms, raising him high into the air, cradling him up into an embrace.

“Markus!” the grandmother shouted – the memory flaring up to let another one in its place – running towards the boy. The kid, covered in bruises and scratches, was kneeling in the middle of a street. It was a mess: once a street full of children looked like a warzone now, destroyed completely by their own stupidity. She warned their parents, she warned them countless times to restrain their children, yet no one listened; now they paid for it, paid for their ignorance and arrogance, hopefully not with their children’s lives.

The grandson was burning, but the flames didn’t damage his body or his clothes. He was scared. It all happened so quickly he had no time to react. He just exploded, releasing it all that’s been held inside. The anger burst open with fires, sweeping away everything that stood in their way; flames burning flesh and stone, drawing the cries from the now victims. He was afraid of this; he didn’t want it to happen – he didn’t know it could happen; he thought he had no magic in him, yet…

The grandmother run to him, pulling him up into her hands. She wasn’t scared of the flames, she didn’t care about them. She could get hurt, but in the end it didn’t matter. What mattered the most was the child in her arms, and she would do everything for him to not get hurt again.

“I’ve… reconsidered”, – the grandmother’s voice was heard, erasing the scene and bringing another, “This... arrangement we had”, she addressed her general, “it’s not going to take us anywhere, I’m afraid. I do not desire to give away the boy, he is my blood after all, my grandson. We should do something about it”. She… got attached to the kid, acknowledged him as her offspring – her late daughter’s legal child. The kid was clever; it would be a shame to give him back to his father later. His blood, the heritage – it all made him even more interesting for her, and with the proper education he would benefit her cause. “Sire”, the general said, “Do you have an idea?” he looked outside of the window, there, where the laughter came from. “Indeed I do, Orlan”, the grandmother nodded, “It’s… quite ambitious, if I can say so myself”, she wickedly smiled, “These two fighting one another for as long as the world exists – they are going to help us. The Princes – they are so vain they will do whatever it takes to destroy each other”, the woman sighed, excited, “And they will have to obey me to get what they desire”. “Sire?” the man asked, her loyal henchman, the right hand. “Why bother with mere racial superiority”, she explained, “when we could bring down Gods and Princes? We could destroy the masters themselves. No gods or kings, only man”…

“He didn’t come, again”, the raven-haired girl complained lightly, as the previous reminiscence faded into a red sunset, girl’s emerald eyes shining softly in the setting sun. The father hasn’t visited the boy yet again, for another week straight. “Grandmother said he had to sail somewhere”, the boy replied, fidgeting with a poppy flower in his hands, “He’s going to be back soon, I’m sure”, he smiled at her. The girl smiled in return, leaning against the boy, her head resting on his shoulder. “Markus?” she called him, to which he grunted in acknowledgement, “Do you love me?” The kid cringed, “EW. No, you are gross”, he replied, which made her giggle. “But you have to!” she jokingly complained, poking him into his sides, “Ouchies”, the boy rubbed his skin, totally unimpressed. “You have to love me, we’re going to get married when we grow up”, the girl closed her eyes, envisioning the future. The other kid wasn’t really thrilled about it. “What if I don’t want it?” he asked, something unpleasantly twisting in his stomach, “You are my friend, and I don’t want to marry my friend. It’s… wrong”, he declared, still fidgeting with the flower between his fingers, “People marry who they love, not friends. I’m going to marry a girl I love”. “But I am a girl!” the young lady pouted. “You’re not a girl, you’re my friend. Gross”, the kid shivered, and they both laughed at that, careless about anything in the world.

A gray fog enveloped it all, fading out quickly to reveal a dark and shiny stone. Cold. Lone. Empty. It hanged up in the air above the obsidian of the water waving with the soft breeze like a black silk. The kids have never seen this place, but it seemed hospitable enough for them to stay. It… it was young, just like them, starving for contact, for living souls. It felt lonely and sad, but now – now it was in delight of finally meeting someone, of finally not being alone anymore, of having… friends. They’ve brought light and happiness to it, their laughter echoing from the stone, going up above into the air. Like a wave the glee washed all over the place, turning the desolation into peace.

“Do you remember those creatures we saw the other day in the sea?” the boy asked his friend one day. The mighty monsters, the behemoths of the oceans – they were so majestic, so noble, he thought, if only he could see them again… It heard the boy, it felt his emotions; as if from his memory the leviathans, gently flowing in the air above the stone, appeared from the thick mist; the lullaby they sang resounded in the very hearts and souls, so dreamy.

No boy was around this time, only the girl. Her raven locks fluttered in the breeze, as she herself eyed a regal woman standing on the other side of the walkway. The woman from before. She waved at the girl as if offering her to make her company, to which the girl did not refuse. They had a talk, a pleasant one at first – the woman seemingly wanting to befriend the young lady; then it shifted to something darker, until the woman took the girl by her arm and vanished. The raven-haired girl returned only after a while; her eyes glowed with gold, happy as never before.

The little noble elven girl cried, as the ship with her friend and her family sailed away. Her cousin on the contrary kept himself collected and serious, a lone tear sparkling on his cheek. They had no idea why the family of the emerald-eyed girl had to leave, but their grandmother knew. The old lady would never tell the children the whole story, maybe some mock up later. Oh, this lying Breton family – she had enough with their deceit. The shady market practice is one thing – it could be forgiven, but an attempt at kidnapping – it is something else. The grandmother was furious to know about this treachery – they already had this marriage agreement, but the breton lord decided to do it his way and kidnap woman’s only grandson. It was a miracle her right hand discovered it, preventing the disaster before it could happen. She should have beheaded them all, but the ruined reputation is worse than any death.

Warm hands awoke the boy – it was an old man, the grandmother’s old flame; silver moon shining through a window lit his dark gray hair tied into a high ponytail, his deep green eyes sparkling in the night. “Get up, get the things you need”, he told the kid, leaving him to look out of the window. It was now or never; the only chance he had to leave this place for good. “Where are we going?” the boy asked, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He did not want to leave, but it was of importance to get him out from the Isles, away from his ambitious grandmother. The man knew what she planned to do, her grandeur plans with the kid playing the main role. “Mark”, the old man crouched in front of him, “We have to leave. Now”. “But how about the grandmother, uncle Nar?” The old elf returned a year ago, pledged himself to serve the grandmother once again, loyal and obedient. It was hard to gain her trust yet again, but eventually – she opened up to him once more. It was all part of his plan – to deceive her and to thrust a knife in her back just like she did herself to him before; this wound, however, would hurt much more. “Uncle, I don’t want to go”, the kid said shaking his head. Right, the man thought, he didn’t have any reason to wish to leave this place, even after all the fairy tales of the north he told him. “Markus”, the old man started, smiling at how concentrated the kid got once he used this name, “There is no time for this. We’ve decided. The boat is setting sail in a few”, he had to take the boy away – for the sake of the future, for the sake of this kid’s life; he’d be damned if he’d let the woman use the child in her wicked schemes, “If you don’t like it there – I will bring you back, alright?” The kid nodded, sad and solemn asudden. The man felt sorry for taking him away, but a better and safe life awaits him once they make it from the Isles…

He didn't know the price he had have to pay – to be branded as a traitor by the one he once loved.

“Mom”, the boy said, suddenly shutting himself, eyes wide open as if he said something bad. The surrounding air filled with silence in an instant, and the awkwardness filled the kid to the top. He never had anyone to call a mom or a dad, and this one just… slipped. He felt ashamed; he didn’t want to look in the eyes of this woman anymore, face red from embarrassment. Instead of saying anything though, the woman just moved from her place, locking the kid into a loving and caring embrace. There was nothing wrong that he said; he finally felt safe.

The same girl – raven black locks, emerald eyes, almost a woman now – yet there was something different about her, something… not right. She seemed restless walking around the stone, like if she couldn’t find a place to stay. She brought a lot of things with her this time: many ancient books in a dead language; artifacts of a long gone race. The young lady always strived for knowledge, and the lessons she had along with her friends – it wasn’t enough, she always wanted more. Some of the things that she brought with her – they’ve been lost to the world, and some – hidden so deep inside the other realms it was impossible to recover them; where did she get them remained unknown. The lady would study them thoroughly, always returning to the beginnings to check the things she had learned. And this carried on for ages, it seemed, time stretching so much it fit hundreds of years into a single day. Yet she wanted more…

The woman from before came to her one day as if was called – their speech muffled, obscured by a primordial magic on purpose, impossible for anything to be heard. The girl bowed before the woman in the end, knelt, eyes close shut and brows furrowed. A fear lingered in the air surrounding her, but she was committed like never before – she would do whatever it takes to save the one she cares about even if the words the woman spoke scared her too much. A touch – and it all went ablaze with a brightness of thousands of suns. Regret, remorse, and anguish – all washed over the girl as she realized – she was deceived. It was too late to turn back now, no way for her to save her very self: her soul would be destroyed and absorbed, her body would become a living corpse following commands a few moments later. It reached out to the girl as her shadow imprinted on the place; it reached out and snatched a piece of her soul before the woman would consume it. It hid it in the deepest recesses no one would ever venture to. The girl is the part of it now, fused together into a single entity.

“Look!” a girl with chestnut hair and crystal blue eyes, skin of a cream – now the boy’s sister – pointed at something in the distance. A noble looking young woman, hair of the finest rye, skin of light gold, eyes of bronze; she moved with such a grace it seemed she didn’t walk but flied through air. He’s never seen anyone more angelic than her; she was the embodiment of everything beautiful in the world he has seen and he has yet to see. The woman glanced at him, half smile on her face, and it was enough to make his heart beat faster, blood rushing to his face, his lashes fluttering. “Why don’t you talk to her?” the sister asked, and that was enough for filling the embarrassment quota for today, making him retreat home.

“Aren’t you the one looking for a companion?” the kid came up to an ashen haired man sitting in the corner. He wasn’t a fan of approaching strangers – this one looked weird, sick and creepy, flower tattoo on his neck and a laurel around his ear – but there was no one else in this place who had the same route as him. The silver greatsword shifted on his back uncomfortably – damn be the day he listened to these old men saying he must wield a sword just as big as him. “Where are you heading?” the man asked not even bothered to look up. “Same as you”, it was dangerous to tell the destination aloud, but luckily, there were not many people around to overhear him. It was really careless of him to tell the bartender this, though, one never knows if they’re honest or not, but there was no other way around this: this area was too difficult to traverse on his own, alone, with each turn hiding behind a witch or a berserk ready to skin people alive. “Are you sure you can wield that paddle on your back?” the man smirked at him, getting up on his feet, and the kid sighed in frustration – this is going to be an adventure.

It barely made it in time, barely awoke the outsider the master brought here with him. The vestige, following commands from beyond, layered magic upon magic on the kid, binding him to the image of his long lost friend; he listened to the every honeyed word the vessel said, too enthralled to notice the deceit.

The outsider was right in time to disrupt it – it felt forever grateful to the odd looking man; and now that the effigy was gone, the kid is finally free from harm safe for the mournful melancholy and tears or relief.

It won’t allow this to happen again.

The last memory slowly faded, echoing in the darkness still. The veil of remembrance gradually lifted, sense by sense returning to the unmoving bodies, waking them from their slumber. Too exhausted…

- Shit, – Mark hissed, covering his eyes with his arm. The memories left an unpleasant feeling in his guts along with annoying anxiety playing in the background of his head, – Shit, imagine hating someone but being a fucking coward to do something radical about it, – he tried to stand up, but his own weight anchored him to the stone. So tired.

Livaen shifted on the floor, rising from the cold stone: her body was just as sore, so she just sat there modestly, watching her cousin gasp for air, squirming in his desire to get up.

- Mark, – she called quietly, afraid to scare him. He hummed in response, – I’m so sorry. Your mother, the aunt, I…, – she couldn’t finish the sentence, as he interrupted her with a gesture of his arm.

- Don’t. She got what she deserved, – the kid exhaled loudly, the arm falling limp on the stone. That woman – he wouldn’t even call her a mother; someone else but. His mother, the real mother that loved him and cared for him, waited for him in his new home.

- Do you… Do you need to talk?

The elf cringed painfully.

- Fuck no, I’ve seen enough, �� he pushed himself off of the stone, sitting on the floor, – Fuck. Fuck me, – Mark shook his head, hiding the face in the palms of his hands for a moment. It was all so messed up, so twisted; how little idea he had about anything at all, and everything that he knew about his past – it was all lies, a pain inflicted upon him and his loved ones by the creatures more powerful than any mortal. He sighed, removing the hands from his face, looking up into the stone, – Cath? – he called, and the Void responded with a light breeze, strands of his hair waving gently as if someone combed through, – Shit, – he snickered, shaking his head: she’s always been here at his side, and he didn’t even know it, – imagine if I haven’t met you, – the elf addressed the ashen haired man this time that was already standing on his feet.

The soft breeze inside the Heart changed a little, sounds travelling differently.

- You’d be dead, – someone from behind announced, – She would have murdered you first – you would become a threat to her, – the Prince walked inside as if on cue – he must have listened in on everything, but then again – the Void was once a part of his realm, – Then she would have destroyed me. After – she would have claimed both your realm and mine, and for the final – she would have hunted down everyone who has or had any connection to me, good or bad. But, – he offered his hand to the elf. Mark looked at it with mistrust, but soon grabbed it, and the Prince pulled him on his feet, – she was too late, – he looked at Aspen, – Have you thought about that favor I owe you by the way?

Mark walked up to the basin, throwing one last glance into it. The whirlwind under the water calmed down, and smoke just leisurely floated inside.

- What happens now?

- You tell me, – the Prince replied, unmoving, – You could end this right here and now, or you could continue living on with this burden, being hunted by Meridia.

The girl moved from her spot.

- Mark, – she grabbed his arm firmly, reaching around him to look him into the eyes, – Please, don’t rush it. Let us think this through, – she lowered her voice, whispering, almost hissing at him, – He is the Schemer Prince, he may be lying about all of this. Even the memories – they might be untrue!

The kid stopped her with a gesture of his hand. He was so tired of everything. Mark moved past the Prince and through the exit, paying no attention to the three behind him. The air outside was so crisp and clean, like if a thunderstorm washed all over the place – the smell of electricity so prominent and liberating. He inhaled lungs full of air till they started aching, alleviating his mind and soul of the worries. Livaen was right, indeed, it was necessary to think this all through before deciding anything, yet he couldn’t wait anymore.

Was he the one to blame here? If it wasn’t for him, Catherine would be alive, Esmir’s daughter too, and Livaen wouldn’t’ve endured the horrible pain; Narandil would have his face intact – the scar serving him a reminder of the betrayal, and Visenya would have never known the grip of death. Was it his fault of endangering all of these people? Maybe he just shouldn’t’ve been born at all, maybe he was just a someone’s mistake. Right… A mistake. He was a mistake – the mistake of his mother and his grandmother; the payment for their ambitions; a scapegoat. If only they could have quenched their hunger.

The kid stopped at the crossroads, the entire walk absorbed in his thoughts, following the paths the Void laid down before him. He looked around: they followed him closely, not speaking a word, giving him space to breathe. It was now or never; with a heavy sigh he turned around, facing the Prince.

- I’ve decided, – he told him, the words coming off easier than he anticipated, – You have my favor.

The man only nodded in acknowledgement, and nothing else happened. So anticlimactic; he wouldn’t lie to himself, he expected a storm, a battle, an army of Meridia’s Aurorians – anything at all, but not this – just a nod of the head. But come whatever may, it just must end.

- Show yourself, – the Prince commanded to someone, voice like a thunder roaring through the air. The vestige appeared – the Catherine, her hair of pure gold this time, – Using the vessel still, I see? – the man smirked, drawing a low hostile groan from the woman.

- Just do what you have to do, Stone-Fire, – she replied, the look on the face solemn. She possessed the body herself, unwilling to come in person unlike numerous times she did in the memories, afraid of what’s about to happen. Was she trying to buy herself some time? Or was she trying to save herself using the image of the long lost girl?

- I was about to, – he told her, bowing slightly before her as a courtesy, – But I have something to ask first. Mark? – the Prince addressed the kid – he looked fatigued, eyes weary and sleepy, – What are you going to do about Esmir now that you know everything? She almost sacrificed her own child for her ambitions; murdered her daughter; wanted, most likely still wants to use you in her own devices; indirectly caused Catherine’s untimely demise; melted Narandil’s face; tortured your friends and almost killed Visenya… She was and is one of those behind Thalmor; she still bears the idea of bringing down the masters. What are you going to do about her?

Mark frowned, looking at the Daedra. A strange timing to this question, yet so weirdly right, he thought, as he forgot about the grandmother completely. It had nothing to do with the situation at hand, though still he decided upon indulging the man in this matter.

- Well, – he started, calculating every possible outcome for her and for them, – Esmir has to go, – Mark said, voice stern and confident. Livaen looked at him, a wordless question in her eyes, yet said nothing, – Livaen will replace her as the head of the house, – the decision earned an interested look from the Prince, but he didn’t interrupt the elf: he expected him to say he will seize the power for himself, like a child of his should, yet he didn’t. The kid took a deep breath, thinking: there was no denying of the crimes the woman has committed, and she would have to pay eventually for everything. But at the same time…, – She is also very valuable to dispose of, if that’s what you were waiting from me to comment upon, – Mark glanced at the Daedra. The man nodded in response, – She might be vile and cruel, but she’s one of the most brilliant people that ever lived. It would be a shame to lose her. So – she will stay by Livaen’s side as an advisor, nothing else, – a twisted glee flashed on the Prince’s face, and he applauded. It wasn’t what the man expected: he expected the son to give the woman to him to torture her endlessly for every broken deal they had; but this decision was… very prudent, to say the least, practical, and it made him feel really proud of the child. He would make sure himself the woman stays on track and serves the children properly.

- Now tell me, – the Prince asked in a curious tone, too excited with the previous answer. He moved closer to the kid, throwing an arm around his shoulders, – I’ll let you decide her fate, – the man gestured at the vessel, implying the person behind it. A fury crossed the vessel’s face, but died out quickly, – What should I do with her?

- Let her live, – the elf answered confidently, the answer final and definite. The woman looked at him, bewildered, not saying a word; the father just smiled wickedly – oh, the practicality of this kid: the woman was too… dear for him to get rid of, his very existence would become boring without his nemesis, and now that she’s defeated – she’ll try to avenge this embarrassment sometime later in future. It’s a fun game, a tug of war of sorts, and the man definitely enjoys it despite the lesser failures along the way. She must love it too… The Prince used the confusion of the woman and made a leap forward all of a sudden, getting close to the vessel in one big step and cutting its throat. The body went limp in an instant, no blood pouring from the wound; the man caught the finally dead Catherine in his arms, gently laying her down onto the stone. His finger stroked her face softly, closing her eyes forever now. After – he rose up, turning around to see the son one more time.

- She wouldn’t do the same for you. I hope she appreciates it, – and with this the Prince disappeared into thin air.

It was anticlimactic.

Later that day they placed her body onto a boat – the bed of roses – its material very similar to that of a wood. Mark set the float on fire, her body catching flames quickly – the blaze so hot and bright; the Void’s tide taking her away into the mists beyond. The breeze carried her ashes away as she burned, turning them into the finest crystals. It was sad, but he was also happy she finally has her peace – she finally reconnected with herself, he felt it in the air; she was gleeful about it, she’s been waiting for so long to become whole again. It was snowing after for a few days, snowing with sparkling in the invisible sun crystals.

...

- Hurry! – the elf girl commanded to a servant, – Please, don’t break it! – she looked all over the crates they’re going to ship back to Alinor – all filled to the brim with Skyrim’s treasures.

It was the end; they were boarding the ship to set sail back home – to Summerset. Esmir and her loyal bodyguard were already aboard, yet Livaen still lingered ashore for someone to finally show up and say farewells. She wanted him to leave with her, to join her and return home; she was dreading the time she’ll have to step in in her full rights as the head of the house with little friends by her side, she wanted him to share this power and ease the burden; he was adamant about staying up here in the North though.

- Livaen, – someone gently touched her elbow, soft and low female voice getting her attention, – Relax, don’t want you start spitting diamonds here, – Meltem smirked at her, making a remark about the tension in the girl’s whole body, pointing at two riders in the distance. Here they are, the girl smiled shifting her gaze onto the woman – she followed their path with her eyes before meeting Livaen’s. She’s bound to leave Skyrim with her, in so many years finally changing the place; it was heartbreaking to see her go, but hopefully it’s for the best. Everything happened so quickly; it happened just as quickly as they got married: just like Livaen anticipated their marriage didn’t last long, and they had to put a stop to it. Visenya – the girl’s head is full of wind, careless and childish still; their relationship was like a game to her, something unimportant and something she could disregard with ease. At least she doesn’t have an ache in her heart – she married the jarl’s brother the next day after the divorce. Maybe it was for the better… Meltem wanted to leave in the end, to leave Skyrim behind, wanted to go with her sister to Chorrol as they planned, but she couldn’t see herself as a housewife or anything like that. She is a warrior, and she will die with swords in her hands doing something that is worth dying for. She would’ve left, but Mark stopped her, suggesting she stays by his cousin’s side, being her shield and most importantly a friend for her.

- Hey! – the voice of her cousin returned her back to senses: he dismounted his horse, his companion following him closely behind, as always. They came closer, the elf locking the girl into an embrace – it was finally all over for him and for her, and she can safely return home as the new lady of the house, – You’re all ready? – he asked, firmly holding her by her shoulders.

- Yes, – she nodded, smiling, watching as he switched over to Meltem, their embrace so warm and everlasting; it was hard for both to let go. The ashen haired man followed the elf as he pulled away from the woman facing Livaen yet again. She sighed, a bit sad, – Are you sure you don’t want to leave with us? – the same old question, but it didn’t hurt asking.

- No, – Mark laughed lightly, shaking his head. He’s so different now from what he was a month ago – finally bright and full of life, – but I’ll visit you someday, – he leaned forward, kissing Livaen’s forehead, – I’m going to miss you both, so expect me, – the kid told both women, as an annoyed captain urged them to leave the docks and finally go aboard the ship. They hugged one more time saying their farewells and left the two behind ashore. Mark waved his hand, watching them set sail for the South – it was bittersweet to say goodbye, but this was life, and it’s unfair; he still has Aspen by his side, his parents in Whiterun too, and they’re going to visit the Isles sooner or later. With this thought, he smiled brighter than ever after them, his hand blindly finding the other man’s hand and squeezing in tightly.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 35

Here we go, Chapter 35!  Any mistakes are purely my own - Due to an absolute ton going on, @parisconstantine had way more important things to worry about than proof-reading this chapter.

Please send positive energy her way, and I hope she enjoys this chapter (even though Tyche isn’t in it very much).

Trigger warnings below the line for severe depression.  For anyone reading who is lucky enough not to live with this level of depression, this is what it feels/looks like from the inside.  And, while Sophia’s reaction is pretty atypical for being pulled out of a spiral, this is actually something my best friend did to me once to pull me out.  So, yes, this is a very real reaction.

In the days following the trial, everything changed.   Just walking through the corridors of the ship back to the medical bay had been agonizing; Tyche was jumpy and suspicious to a nearly feral degree, Conor tried to put himself between me and anyone who came within arm’s reach.  Not that there was any concern about that – the air held a tense feeling of suspicion.  The normally jovial and social people I saw every day were instead huddled closely in pairs and small groups, speaking in whispers or hushed tones.  I didn’t have to imagine what they were thinking about, since it was haunting my mind as well. Who else on board could be a Baconist? What if they weren’t all discovered?

Adding to the oppressive atmosphere was the unmistakable fact that Noah was everywhere.  Prior to the sabotage of the ship, they had placed most of their bodies in suspension – a sort of hibernation to conserve space and resources – and allowed humans to fill as many roles as we could teach ourselves. Now, however, I couldn’t turn my head without seeing lumbering bodies traversing the corridor.

“Noah,” I asked aloud. “Did you bring all your bodies out of suspension?”

“Yes, Wisdom.” I turned to see the one I originally thought of as ‘Noah’ approaching from behind. It gestured at its body with one small-hand. “I know you prefer to speak to this particular part of me,” it explained to my unvoiced surprise.

Tyche shook her head. “I still don’t know how you can tell,” she muttered.

“I – “ I started to answer the question, before realizing something. “I don’t know if it would be considered rude to explain how I can tell,” I admitted, glancing at Noah.

“Smooth path, Wisdom,” was the only response I received.  While it probably seemed cryptic to anyone else, the phrase came from a series of very badly written novels I had enjoyed immensely back on Earth. He was telling me it was okay to explain, essentially.

“This body has a crooked finger on the right small-hand,” I gestured. “And one of the sensory spots is different – it isn’t shiny like the rest.”

To my amusement – and Tyche and Conor’s astonishment – Noah used the finger I mentioned to actually point at the sensory spot in question. “Very astute,” it buzzed. “The finger did not harden as quickly as the others as this body matured, and that particular sensory spot is damaged.”

“It’s barely crooked,” my sister whisper-shouted at me. “Barely. How the actual – “

I held up my hands defensively. “I notice that kind of stuff, okay? Now, can we please continue walking toward the medbay so I don’t have to be carried the rest of the way?”

“You could use a transport,” Miys complained as we resumed our journey. “I will never understand why injured humans persist in moving under their own power when they are injured.”

Before I could respond, Conor patted the massive alien’s lower right arm. “It’s the first act of independence in most of our lives, mate.  As long as we can walk, we generally insist on it. It’s a human thing.”

“Idiots,” was the honked response. “But yes, to answer your question, I did bring all of my bodies out of suspension, including the ones that were suspended before I arrived on Earth.”

“Why?” Tyche asked, confused.

“Largely, to manufacture the replacement sensors, and to install them. Secondly, to help keep peace on the Yjq. The general population of the ship is very suspicious, and you seem to like rioting in such times.” The last was stated in such a calm tone that it may as well have been speaking about the weather.

A thought occurred to me, and I didn’t like it one bit. “Are you certain that all of the Baconists have been found?” I asked, trying to keep a neutral tone.

“Yes,” came the response, although it sounded awfully cagey.

Did you read everyone’s thoughts to make sure? I subvocalized angrily.

“Yes, Wisdom.” If a twelve-foot-tall mushroom with no vocal chords could sound ashamed, that is exactly the tone Noah had.  My sister and Conor looked perplexed at the answer to my unvoiced question.

“Here’s a tip, Miys. Read 1984 and think about how humans may perceive what you’re doing,” I spat. “I’m going to bed. You stay here.” Without looking to see if it listened, or if my sister and Conor were still following me, I stalked back to the medbay. Thankfully, I arrived safely: I didn’t remember the journey.  

I had been assured that an audio-only recording of the trials would be made available for the general population of the Ark, but not for several more days to allow time to complete them.  Due to my still-healing injuries, I was exempted from attending the other trials – Simon would sit in my place, as my predecessor. There was a vague part of me that was glad.  After all, while I refused to look at the list of accused, I had not missed the faces that were not present while I was walking to and from the Council Chamber.  I should have walked twice past the lady who kindly made by favorite boudin, but where her cooking area normally was located, nothing remained but an empty alcove and the smell of disinfectant.  The passing crowds had studiously avoided an area that had, only two weeks ago, been notorious for blocking foot traffic as people crowded in for hot, sizzling morsels.  In addition, Eino’s assistant had been someone I was unfamiliar with, and two different living quarters that had previously been occupied were vacant. Ghosts, I thought miserably.

I insisted on being left alone to handle the knowledge that Arantxa had never been my friend, had used me and my family.  I couldn’t bear to look into my sister’s face, knowing what danger she had been in.  Even Conor left me alone, although I could hear him outside my door, his newfound protective urges leading him to enforce my self-selected solitude.

Within thirty hours, a standard ship’s day, Arantxa and all her known conspirators were sentenced and summarily executed.  I refused to ask, wonder out loud, or even let anyone tell me how it had been carried out.  I couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone, even via data screen or intercoms, leading to Tyche forcing her way into my room. But, even when my sister and Antoine spent hours in my medical bay staring at me and exchanging concerned looks, it was all I could to just to keep from screaming uncontrollably.  At night, I was haunted by fragmented nightmares and an accented voice taunting me.  

“Humanity is a plague…”

“…can we not just die properly!?”

“Ridiculous woman just adopts people….”

The analytical side of me understood the logic behind the… sentences. To protect Derek from any charges, the Council had decided to try Arantxa under Galactic Law, and when they decided that, execution was immediately on the table.  There weren’t facilities on the ship where we could safely imprison the group, and it wasn’t safe to let them interact with other people on the ship.  Even if we had the facilities, we still had an estimated nine years before we reached our new home.  Where would we keep them once we arrived?  The only way to address the danger they posed was to get rid of it, entirely.

The human side of me was not mollified in the slightest by the logical arguments.

Each time Miys came to check on my status, I shut out the buzzing concern at how much weight I’d lost, how haggard I was looking. My eyes shut tightly, I just turned my head toward the wall and focused on thinking about nothing. If I didn’t think, I didn’t have to acknowledge that all of this was more than a terrible dream.  Maybe, eventually, I would wake up.  When I got desperate for distraction, I would sing song lyrics in my head – the most annoying, catchy tunes I could think of, as loudly as possible.

After weeks, Simon came by in person. Still, I refused to speak to him or subvocalize responses to Noah, and by this point, I had been placed on intravenous feeding and restrained to prevent pulling the tube out. At night, Noah would sedate me to quiet the nightmares. “Sophia,” he sighed as he sat in my sister’s chair by my bedside. “This isn’t you, and I know it.”

I just stared at the ceiling, trying to recall each and every tillandsia in my quarters.  Tyche already told me they were being cared for by either herself or Conor.  I imagined how happy the little plants were.  Raindrops are falling on my head…and just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed….

He just puffed indignantly at my lack of response. “You know, Miys offered to come in here with me and tell me what you were thinking about.  I felt that wouldn’t be fair, so I asked them to let me try this solo.” I heard him take a deep breath. “I know you feel betrayed. I feel the same way, though probably not to the degree you do.  She was my assistant, at one point, you know.”

I felt a quirk of interest at that bit of information, immediately trying to squash it back down.  Nope, no real world, thank you. Nothing seems to fit…those raindrops –

“Some of the things they did, I know she learned from me,” he continued blithely. “After all, you took my place on the Council.  But there were things she knew, systems she was familiar with, that you had no reason to be aware of.  The layout of the ship, for starters – at first, I was the one responsible for giving ships tours to all the new arrivals, until we reached about five thousand people on board, I believe.  Every time I walk through the corridors, I want to vomit.  I was the one to tell her about the sensors, too.  She asked me one day how I was able to know where everyone was most recently, and I was all too excited to show her how the corridor sensors track our data bands….”

Why was he telling me all this?

“I think we all try to take the blame onto ourselves,” he sighed. “If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have been able to keep you in the dark for so long. You’re too keen for that; Clarity. Conor feels like he should have noticed something, but his Amity clouded his Perception, and that’s one of the best parts of humanity, even if he doesn’t realize it: our desire to see the best in people rather than the worst.  Tyche wants to heal you through sheer force of her Will, and by God if anyone could do it, she could.” He chuckled before sobering. “But I think what we all seem to be missing is what makes humanity so unique.  I mean, sure, we can see, but we’re also individuals.  Each and every one of us is a completely different person, with our own minds, and our experiences.  Somehow, we manage to work together, even to understand invisible queues from each other that enable us to throw and catch, work silently together, act in tandem.

“But that’s just our subconscious minds – our lizard brains – reading miniscule clues from each other.  Some people, like Xiomara, are like predators and can see just enough to work in a unit but not enough to avoid stepping on people’s toes or rubbing them the wrong way. Others, like you and your sister, are more like prey animals and can read queues from an entire room without realizing it.  But, no matter how well we can read those queues, understand each other without words, we are still separate people.  We still have our own unique passions and tastes, and process information differently enough to have stimulating conversation and reach a multitude of discoveries faster than a single person could.  It’s absolutely fascinating.”

Would you just get to the point and let me go back to sleep? I thought grouchily.

His neck popped as his head whipped to face me.  To my horror, I realized I had subvocalized that thought and that Noah likely relayed it to him. “My point, Sophia, is that we are not a hive-minded species like the Hujylsogox is. Which means Arantxa Bidarte was her own person, and the only person responsible for her actions is her.  None of us could have prevented it, and I know you’re aware of that because you told Conor as much the day before her trial.  Take the time you need, but you don’t get to lay down and die.  You survived a ten-year apocalypse, and I watched you come back from someone’s determined craving for rare roast-beast.  There is no way the Sophia Reid I know would let a ghost kick her ass.

“After all,” he smiled smugly. “I didn’t.” With that, he stood and left the room.

For the first time in weeks, I took a voluntary drink of water in an effort to wet the dry and sore tissues in my mouth.  I thought about what Simon said, about reading the room, and hive minds. His last comment stuck out in my mind – even knowing the intention was to antagonize me, he was right.  She had been his administrator as well, and he was dealing with a lot of the same guilt I was.  But Simon had been able to walk down here from his cave, bathed and fed, and speak to me.  Was I really going to let the memory of someone who betrayed me push me into a death-spiral of depression?  I hadn’t even let the memories of beloved people that I longed to join do that. Why did she deserve the privilege?

“Fuck,” I muttered emphatically.

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[theresnoturningback]

After the Dare [RUSIM One Shot]

A/N: This took me forever to write. Same as usual; work and life love getting in the way. I wanted to write a second one shot of Ruby and Aasim for so long and it’s finally finished. Thanks to my dearest friend Jasper who helped me review and edit and make this piece of my heart a little more enjoyable for you. I love you son, you make everything better!For the future I have in mind writing a piece for AJ and Louis, because I love their dynamics, but I’m not sure how it will turn out, because episode 3 will have come out by then and I’ll be crying on the floor for the most part. I’ll try to keep writing, regardless. Thanks for liking, reading, commenting and reblogging, all that makes my heart full of love and pushes me to keep pursuing writing, studying and finding ways to improve my skills!

Word Count: 5832

“We haven’t played a game in weeks, since that night with Marlon’ Violet sighed, remembering the dreadful incident that took place two weeks ago.

Louis pretended he didn’t hear her grim words as he shuffled his deck of cards. His eyes moved from his own hands to Aasim, who seemed to be lost in thought while staring at the horizon. He followed his friends’ stare and he noticed the redhead who was helping Omar carrying boxes from one place to another.

‘I mean’ Louis’ Aasim woke up from his unintended daydreaming. He turned his head to redirect his attention to Louis ‘If you wanna go ask Ruby to come play, I don’t mind waiting’

Aasim felt the urge to punch Louis in the face, but refrained.

‘Shut up dude!’ He exclaimed instead, shaking his head regretfully ‘I swear to God...’

With the years, Louis had proved to be a good and supportive friend to Aasim, but sometimes he’d wonder just how much he could confide in him.

Of course, Louis meant no harm with his little teasing, but ever since he found out about his crush, he had not been able to catch a break.  Louis took every chance to bring it up, he’d ask questions and sometimes, he would like to imagine scenarios and was very vocal about it..

However, this was the first time he mentioned Ruby in front of others. While Clementine tried not to show much interest in the topic, Violet couldn’t hide her curiosity.

‘You have a crush on Ruby?’ She inquired, her voice as calm as usual. He looked away, searching for the right words in his head. Luckily for him, AJ and Tenn joined the group, saving him from a potential awkward moment.

‘What are we playing?’ AJ asked

‘Truth or Dare’ Louis announced and Violet immediately looked at him to correct him

‘You don’t use cards in truth or dare…’

‘You do in this version’ He explained as Tenn sat next to Violet on the couch and AJ took a seat on the floor, near Clementine ‘Everyone draws, highest card gets to ask. Lowest card has to answer’

Right after the rules were set, the game started and during the first round, Violet drew the highest card, while Clementine had the bad luck to be her victim.

‘This should be good’ She snickered maliciously ‘Let’s see...truth: Marry, Fuck Kill...’ ‘Vi…’ Tenn reminded her that her foul language wasn’t approved in casual situations like that one.

‘Fine… Marry, Flip, Kill; Ruby, Aasim or...’ She turned her attention to Clementine once more ‘James, that guy who saved you’

‘Oh, my God..’ Clementine huffed

‘You gotta answer. Them’s the rules’ Louis reminded her, as interested in her answer as Violet.

She considered her options for some seconds.

‘Let’s see...I would marry...Aasim’ Her response caught everyone’s attention

‘I uh... thanks?’ Aasim answered with a rather unsure smile. Louis saw Clementine smiling back

‘I don’t think you’re his type’ He reminded her.’He’s into redheads’

‘Dude! Shut up’

Violet couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Aasim being flustered like a little boy. That was all the confirmation she needed.

Clementine kept on talking to get out of the spotlight.

‘I would, um...flip’

‘Flip, flip, flip. Flip...’ Louis chanted, immediately followed by AJ.

‘Ruby’

Louis threw his head back, laughing gleefully.The rest stared at him in silence.

‘Wh-I’m sorry! I was just imagining her glare while Clem propositions her!’ He immediately began imitating the redhead in a very poor southern accent ‘What? You’re sure that’s a good idea? What’s wrong with you?’

‘She picked’ Violet sentenced ‘Ruby gets a flip’

Louis smiled at her friend and turned to Clementine

‘So that means you’re killing…’

‘This is amazing’ Tenn said, excited

‘Boy from the woods!’ Violet cheered. Her and Louis seemed strangely enjoying this very last bit

‘I’ll try to shed a tear for the poor boy none of us met, who’s probably just a figment of Clem’s imagination’ He added with fake sympathy

‘No he’s not’ AJ defended Clementine ‘I’ve met him’

‘Well, now he’s dead...poor dude’ Clementine rolled her eyes at him, trying to hide her amusement as Louis continued his little speech ‘This is great; we’re laughing, we’re bonding. It’s a nice break from thinking about homicidal assholes sneaking into our homes to kidnap us’

‘Not if you bring it up’ Violet warned.

‘Onto round two!’ Louis announced with a wink, to avoid an argument with the blonde.

The card deck was passed from player to player. This time, Clementine’s luck changed for the better, turning her into the winner of the second round, while Aasim realized he probably had to do or say something against his will by her command.

‘Definitely a dare’ Clem stated, looking at him with malice.

‘Okay. Do your worst’ He said with a smile that denoted fake confidence after hesitating for a second.

After considering her options for a couple of seconds, Clementine finally resolved what Aasim’s fate would be during round two.

‘You have to ask Ruby...for a kiss’

He did not see that coming.

‘Seriously?’ He questioned, hoping she’d change her mind on the spot.

‘The most legitimate of dares’ Louis added, letting him know that was happening and there was no way of stopping or avoiding it.

‘Maybe there is one thing I could do to avoid the dare’ He thought while looking over at Ruby, still working in the distance, too busy to notice anyone staring at her. ‘Maybe she won’t talk to me in weeks, maybe months...but God knows I can’t kiss her’

His idea was even more risky than actually asking her for a kiss and he was willing to take it, with some apprehensions.

‘There has to be a way around it’ He thought to himself while standing up, his heart pounding inside his chest ‘I can’t do it, I have to do it...but I can’t’ His brain repeated with each approaching step ‘Come on, you dumbass, think of something, quick!’

Everyone else was waiting with expectation. Louis was actually waiting to see them kiss. Violet was just impressed Aasim would accept the dare and, Clementine didn’t know what to expect, but whatever the outcome was, she knew it was going to pay off.

And did it pay off.

They were too far to hear a thing, but their body language said it all. Ruby was beyond offended and punched Aasim in the chest. A general guffaw was sparked by the violent display.

Aasim walked back, silently wearing Ruby’s punch like a medal of honor, while the group was still laughing. He earned a ‘damn’ from Violet and a ‘I can’t breathe’ from Louis.

‘I hate...everyone’ He sat down, grumpily crossing his arms in front of him and looking at the rest of the group with the most honest indignation

‘That was amazing’ Violet smiled at him, to remind him it was all in good fun.

‘Well, I think we all learned something about our good friend Aasim today’ Louis went at it again, looking at his friend with an annoying smile before continuing ‘Mainly, that he has no romantic charm whatsoever’

It was harder and harder to refrain the growing urge to strangle him.

‘Shut up’ He muttered.

The game went on for a couple of rounds more, but Aasim was too lost in thought to be invested in it anymore. With all that happened he even forgot about his little fight with Willy for a moment. Louis’ plans always ended up working somehow.

‘Another annoying thing about him’ He thought.

When the game ended, he went on to make peace with Willy and work on the traps together.

It was a productive evening that lead to an uneventful night; There was no sign of the raiders coming that night, so he turned to his books and chronicles to distract himself from the awful things he had to say to save Ruby the embarrassment of being part of a stupid dare.

But he couldn’t

All he could think about was her.

She needed to know he didn’t mean to be nasty with her. He knew that was her biggest pet peeve and he used it against her to break free from a dare. But how could he explain that to her without admitting he was actually in love. It was not a small crush by now. Maybe it was in the beginning, but a crush would never last as long as the vexing sensation he got every time he’d look at her for the past two years. It was clear to him this wasn’t just some childish infatuation.

-----

‘AASIM, AASIM WAKE UP’ Louis sang loudly as he kicked the door to Aasim’s room open, jolting the boy awake between several sheets of paper, scribbled all over.

‘Jesus, Louis, why do you have to be extra loud this time in the morning?’

‘You will not believe what happened to me last night’

‘Did you have an epiphany about how dumb you are?’ Aasim grumbled, groggily rubbing his face with one hand ‘Because if it’s not it, don’t even bother’

Louis stood in front of him, unable to stay still while trying to contain his giddiness.

Aasim realized he wasn’t going to leave him alone until he listened to him, as it was usually the case.

‘Okay...what happened last night?’ He said sitting up and giving him all the attention.

‘Clem kissed me’ The small sentence woke Aasim up entirely.

‘What ,who, when?’

‘Clementine. Last night...she kissed me? Dude, I just told you this, try to keep up!’

‘I mean, did she really? Maybe you just dreamed it’

Louis sat in another chair opposite to him and leaned in to keep explaining with the same excited tone.

‘It was definitely not a dream, I checked, we were sitting at the piano, I showed her a song I wrote for her, I carved my initial and she did too, then she carved a heart around the letters and I wasn’t expecting that, and then everything got serious so quickly, she said she like-liked me and then she kissed me’

His rushed words were evidence enough this was a real thing.

‘So, you two are...dating now?’

‘I mean, I guess? I mean, I think so...I never got this far’ He shrugged, still consumed by pure joy

‘Hey, that’s great, dude’ Aasim smiled along.

‘I know, thanks!’

‘I’m happy for you, it’s nice to finally see you with a sincere smile again... but can I ask you something?’

‘Go ahead’

‘How did you do it? How did everything lead to that one moment?’

‘I’m not sure, everything happened naturally. I mean, if this answers your question, I tried to show myself as I really was, I tried to be as honest as I could with her, I wanted her to know I care but I also let her know how grateful I was that she cares about me, too. Sometimes, showing a little vulnerability is not as bad as you’d think’

‘That makes sense’ He mumbled, still taking in his friends’ words

Louis noticed Aasim was more pensive than usual

‘Is there anything you’d like to get out of your chest, buddy?’

‘No’ Aasim answered without hesitation while standing to pick up books and paper sheets ‘After you teased me with Ruby in front of everyone, I don’t think I’ll be telling you anything else’

‘Come on, we were having fun, remember?’

‘You guys were having fun’ He corrected

‘I thought you were, too’ The faint smile on his face faded slowly

‘I was embarrassed and you guys wanted to drag her into it too, that pissed me off’ He confessed.

‘Dude, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…’

‘Yeah, you never do’

His remark shut Louis up abruptly and suddenly a tense silence arose

Aasim finished stacking his belongings, closed his eyes to remember the reason Louis was there. When he turned around, his friend was already walking towards the door. He walked closer to apologize.

‘Wait, I didn’t mean to come off so rude’

‘I understand, Aasim. I’m sorry, too. I was outta line’

‘I really am happy for you and Clem’

‘Thanks’ Louis smiled at Aasim before turning around and leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He was fully aware he had to apologize to Ruby for using her just so he could get out of the spotlight. He thought about doing it in the best way he knew. He sat back down at his desk and starting scribbling on a blank piece of paper. He skipped breakfast and spent all morning writing and rewriting, trying to phrase his apology in the sincerest way possible.

From time to time, he’d stare blankly at what he had just written and angrily scratch over it, frustrated that he couldn’t word his feelings.

‘If Louis, being the dumbass he was, could do it, then I can too’ He mumbled after a tired sigh directed at the roof.

Then, a sudden realization came to him. Louis never hid behind a piece of paper. His honesty was directly shown through his attitude and his words. If there was a correct way to do it, that must be it.

He looked down at his letter once more before crumpling it into a ball and throwing it away.

He stood up and walked out of his room with decisive steps. He had nothing rehearsed, he had no idea what would happen after, but he knew he had to say something that day, giving the uncertainty of their fates.

Out in the courtyard, he found Willy and Mitch talking to each other at one of the tables

‘Hey, have you guys seen Ruby?’ Aasim asked, trying to sound casual about it.

‘Yeah, she’s working in the greenhouse’ Mitch said, smiling ‘I’m pretty sure she’s all by herself right now’

‘Thanks’

Mitch whispered something in Willy’s ear when Aasim turned around.

‘Go get her, tiger!’ Willy yelled, putting Mitch in a state of cachinnation. Aasim didn’t turn around. He simply flipped them off while walking away.

‘News really do travel fast among small groups’ He thought, embracing his embarrassment in silence.

Walking closer to the greenhouse felt just like the previous night; an overwhelming anxiety that came out of nowhere.

‘She’s still mad at you’ His brain began ‘You should give her one day more to cool off, you really shouldn’t do this right now’

He shook these thoughts off with the sole argument that there might not be another day for them to talk.

The door to the greenhouse was open. He peeked inside. It wasn’t as clear as the exterior, but he could still see Ruby sweeping the floor, too immersed in her task to notice him standing awkwardly by the door.

He wanted to say something to call her attention, but it was as if he had forgotten how to speak for a couple of seconds.

He didn’t know what was it about her that made him feel so dumb. He could be the stupidest boy in the world when they were alone in the same space. It had been like that since they were younger and he was sure it would be the same if they made it into adulthood.

He cleared his throat to call Ruby’s attention. She turned around and saw him offering her a half smile. She pressed her lips together, containing her contempt and let him speak.

‘Do you need some help? He said timidly. Ruby looked around. There was still a lot to do and she was visibly overworked, but her pride was bigger than the mess around them.

‘Well, aren’t you precious’ She exclaimed bitterly almost under her breath, resuming her chores.

‘Come on, give me something to do...I don’t want to keep overthinking about the raiders and I thought...I could help you clean the greenhouse’

Ruby glanced at him over her shoulder and saw him fidgeting nervously.

‘Are you done bein’ ugly?’ She asked. Aasim looked up at her with puppy eyes.

‘Yes, I’m sorry about last night...I know those were crappy memories and I overstepped my boundaries by bringing them up’ He mumbled

‘You shouldn’t have said it, if you really knew how bad it made me feel. I spent last night thinking about it over and over. I couldn’t stop reliving it; how much I hated Mitch that night, the rage I felt as I hit him for his stupid prank, how badly beaten he looked afterwards, how guilty I still feel, no matter how many times he tells me it’s alright and he had it coming for bein' insensitive and immature... and how much I wish Ms. Martin was alive to take care of us like she used to’

‘I remember that night. Mitch told me what he had done minutes before you found him. He looked so proud of what he had done’

‘You were there?’ Aasim nodded ‘I honestly can’t remember. I was seein’ red the whole time

‘I helped Ms. Martin take care of Mitch while she was trying to calm you’

‘I remember she givin’ me some kind of herbal tea and lettin’ me stay in her room because I was too afraid to go back to my own bed’ She smiled at the memory ‘She really was so kind to all of us, even Mitch and me, and we were terrible children’

‘You weren’t terrible, you just lost it because Mitch put roaches in your bed knowing you were afraid of them’

‘And you had to go and bring it up last night, didn’t you?’ She frowned and started sweeping again.

‘But…’

‘My mother used to say’ She turned around to face him once more ‘ “Ruby, darlin’; if ifs and buts were candy and nuts, it would be Christmas everyday” and she was always right’

‘Would you listen if I just...explained the whole situation to you?’

She pursed her lips, torn between not wanting to hear excuses and her desire to relieve her friend from his notorious guilt.

‘Oh, alright...’ She conceded ‘Spit, what made you say those awful things?’ Aasim hesitated. His silence brought nothing but a tense atmosphere inside the greenhouse ‘Are you….gonna say something or…’ Aasim nodded, but couldn’t found himself unable to speak out of fear ‘I reckon you need to sit, you’re gettin’ pale’

‘I’ll be fine’ He finally said after shaking his head.

‘Now, will you tell me what happened last night, because I don’t understand anything and were wastin’ daylight standin’ here’

‘It was a dare!’ he exclaimed, only to make his friend even more confused.

‘They dared you to ...get punched?’

‘No, not really’ Aasim shook his head once more, unsure if it was worth it to keep trying to justify himself

‘Then what?’ She insisted.

He looked at her and gathered enough courage to end that frustrating conversation once and for all

‘They dared me to ask you for a kiss’

Ruby blinked in surprise. She wanted to know more, but there were so many questions in her mind demanding to be answered that she didn’t even know where to start.

‘Oh…’ It’s all that came out her mouth.

‘Would you have done it?’ He asked without thinking, feeling instant regret at the sight of her negative response.

‘No, I wouldn’t have kissed you, Aasim’

The look of disappointment in his eyes hinted there were some hidden feelings  that she was never aware of until then.

‘It’s not like that’ She hurried to justify her rejection with a soft voice, afraid she might have hurt his feelings ‘You’re a very sweet fella, and very smart too, but ...it would have been my very first kiss and I don’t want it to be somethin’ people laugh about. I don’t think I could stand bein' a joke to everybody all over again’

‘Now you see why I chose to get punched instead?’ She smiled at him and his heart almost stopped beating. He looked for something to do around the greenhouse to avoid her eye contact ‘It’s starting to look like a functional place again’ He quickly changed the subject as he grabbed a rag and started dusting some dirt-covered shelves with it.

‘It’s like a dream come true’ She sighed, smiling proudly at the place ‘I’m going to put some tomatoes there, someday...and we’ll have the potatoes at the back so we can use this space for spices and other kinds of herbs, just like where Ms. Martin used to have them’

‘You’re not tired of cleaning up all by yourself?’

‘Oh, absolutely not’ She stated her half-lie with a wider smile. She was visibly fatigued, but she didn’t feel it due to the rewarding feeling of doing something she loved after so many years ‘I’ve been hopin’ someone helped me get this place up and runnin’ again, but Marlon  never let me come and see how overrun it really was, until Clementine showed up, that is...I know I wanted them gone after the little man killed Marlon, but without her we wouldn’t be in here today. She’s tough as a pine knot, that girl...I have lots to thank her’

‘I guess we all have something to thank her about, she saved my life on her very first day here’ He said casually, but immediately felt his friend’s silence and eyes behind him.

‘You never told me…’ He turned around and the hurt look in her eyes made him feel guilty again ‘What happened…?

‘A walker appeared out of nowhere and grabbed me while I was cleaning up the place. Clem saved me just in time’

Ruby took some seconds to let his words sink in her mind. She could have lost one of his closest friends that day and she had been oblivious of it until that moment. She felt a fear she hadn’t felt in a long time while she realized she couldn’t bear to picture Aasim being devoured by one or two walkers.

‘I’m glad you’re okay’ She muttered while trying to push the vivid mental pictures to the back of her mind.

‘It was weeks ago…’

‘And still you never told me’ She interrupted, unavoidingly frustrated.

‘I didn’t think it was something that required medical assistance, I’m sorry’

‘You could have been bitten!’

‘I wasn’t’ He quickly answered in the same tone she spoke to him.

Ruby tried to leave behind the anger that came from her unsaid worries by walking closer to the few plants she could save, and watered them carefully. Aasim went back to dusting the empty shelves.

‘Sorry I flew off the handle at you’ She said minutes later, unable to stand the silence between them ‘ I didn’t mean to raise my voice like that’

‘I know, it wasn’t your intention’ He offered her a comprehensive smile ‘ You take care of us, and I should have come to you to check for scratches or bites. I was dumb and it won’t happen again’

‘You’ve been feelin’ healthy since?’ She asked quietly

‘I’ve had no health problems whatsoever’ He assured her.

‘That’s good to hear’ She returned his smile as she carried trays with small sprouts in them into the sunlight. She admired them like a proud mother ‘Soon, we’ll have this place as green as it was. No more worries about food for us, you’ll see’

‘You have worked so hard to bring this place back to life. I’m impressed’

‘Mitch helped a lot moving heavy stuff during the first day, but I worked alone the following days’

‘You know, if you needed help, you could have just asked’

‘I never needed the help. I actually like bein' alone with my greens. It helps me clean my head and lets me think better, but I also like some company from time to time. A good conversation should never be taken for granted’

‘I bet Mitch is great for good conversations’ Aasim joked, reminiscing the times when Mitch and Ruby didn’t get along and the hundred of arguments and fights they had and now are clear evidence of their stormy past ‘Remember the Maggie Incident?’

The very first one of their altercations happened when Ruby first arrived to Ericson’s, two years before the outbreak started. She was short, but intimidating for her age. She always kept a serious look in her face and even Marlon admitted he was sort of afraid of her while they were talking about her at lunch. Mitch quickly said he wasn’t intimidated by her, to sound tougher than everyone at the table. Marlon and Louis immediately dared him to prove Mitch’s bravery by going to Ruby’s room and bringing them one of their belongings.

Mitch accepted, so he didn’t look like a complete coward in front of his friends. He sneaked in her room one afternoon the girls were out in a nature walk and stole a framed picture of her and some other kids, all dressed for Halloween. She was dressed as Maggie, from “Maggie and the Ferocious Beast”. Aasim had never seen Ruby smile until Mitch showed him that picture in their room late at night.

Eventually, Ruby found out and, as she was a kid who couldn’t control her emotions, she ran to Mitch to bite him and pull his hair until he finally confessed he had stolen her picture.

Aasim never told Mitch it was him who told Ruby about it.

‘We’ve changed a lot since then’ She laughed at the memory ‘I mean, he’s still immature and impulsive, I keep tellin’ him that’s gonna come back to bite him in the ass someday, but he just doesn’t listen. He’s too stubborn for his own good, bless his heart’

‘I believe he stopped being mean after Willy came along. A little responsibility can change a person so much’ He observed.

‘Well no matter how much he’s changed, everytime we talk, the boy always ends up blabberin’ about bombs and knives…’

‘Hey, we all have our passions. It’s hard not to talk about what we love, like you and the greenhouse…’

Ruby stopped what she was doing and looked at Aasim with a confused expression.

‘If I’m botherin’ you, you have to tell me…’ He walked closer and stood beside her.

‘No, that’s what I meant at all… when people talk about what they truly love, their whole face changes; their eyes, the tone of their voice, it’s something very interesting to see’

‘It looks like you have studied this very well’

‘That’s a word for it’ He shrugged

‘So, what do I do when I talk about greenhouse’ She let her curiosity take over, leaving Aasim wondering how he would describe her when she was at her greatest state of joy.

‘When you talk about it’ He paused, an involuntary smile adorned his mouth while still trying to choose the correct words ‘When you do that, your eyes shine, your cheeks turn red when you get excited about the plans you have for it and you talk faster because you can’t contain your happiness. It makes me think you are actually hopeful for the future’

Ruby was surprised at first.

‘You could have been a detective’ She laughed ‘That’s very impressive. I really feel hopeful, now that I’ve had a second chance at the greenhouse, that is’

‘Joy isn’t something easy to hide and all this clearly brings you joy and honestly, I admire that you can bring life with your own two hands. I mean, like...with both plants and people. You nurse us back to health and you do this…and it makes you happy’

They looked at the tiny green sprouts catching sunlight in the tray.

‘You bet it makes me happy’ She smiled before looking at him straight in the eye ‘It’s like you and your books’

Aasim raised a brow.

‘What about...my books?’

‘Aw, it’s cute how you act like it’s a big secret, when in fact, everyone knows that losing yourself in whatever you write makes you happy. It makes sense, too. You���re sharper than a mother-in-law’s tongue!’ The boy tilted his head, trying to understand her last comment somehow ‘...It’s a plant with sharp leaves’ Ruby explained.

‘Oh, yeah, that-that makes more sense’

‘Anyhow, you have that to keep you up at night, but is that all?’ Don’t you have other stuff in your mind  when you can’t read or write?’

‘You’

There’s no way he could say that.

‘Lately, all I can think of is you’

‘Writing is all I have’ He shrugged while trying to forget about his intrusive thoughts

‘That ain’t true! What about your skills with the bow and arrow? I’ve seen you bein' all proud after a good day of hunting’

‘Being proud for providing is much different than having a passion. I hunt out of necessity, not fun’

‘That’s because killing is never fun, even in a world like this’ She agreed ‘I remember my old man taking me and my brothers on hunting trips. He only allowed them to use guns while I had to learn to fish, because I was little. It was dull, but those were the only times we’d spend actual time as a family, you know, right before they dumped me here, but in retrospective, I wouldn't have had it any other way’

‘Ericson was never a five star hotel’ He reminded her

‘I’m well aware, but if it wasn’t for all the things that had to go wrong, I wouldn’t have met you -none of you’

‘Life likes to work in mysterious ways like that’

‘She sure does’  Ruby rolled her eyes at him, laughing

‘If you’d like, I could teach you to shoot a bow. Who knows? It could save your life someday’

‘I don’t enjoy hunting as much as my brothers once did, but I know it’s a useful skill to have. I reckon I’ll take your offer’

‘After we get rid of the raiders, we start your lessons, then’

Ruby appreciated her friend’s optimism towards the possible outcome of their upcoming battle.

‘You better not leave me hanging on this’ She rolled down her sleeves and put on her jacket.

‘You’re leaving?’

‘Yeah, Omar might need some help with supper. He never says it, but he gets cranky when people don’t help while he cooks’

She walked away letting her hair down while trying to fix it into a fresher updo. Aasim forgot how to breathe for a moment right after his stomach jumped inside of him.

Unwillingly, her name escaped his lips in the form of a breathless whisper that almost sounded like he was asking for help.

She looked over and found him standing almost like a ghost.

‘You look like ten miles of bad road’ She hurried back beside him to make sure he wasn’t seriously ill.

Aasim felt the cold back of her hand press against his forehead and under his right ear.

‘You feel a little hot, but I can’t say it’s a fever’ How are you feelin’?’

He managed to shake his head slowly, unable to focus his eyes on anything.

‘...Dizzy…’ He muttered, shutting his eyes close

‘You poor thing, come sit…’ She lead him to the wooden bench by the door.

‘Have you eaten well? Have you slept at all?’

Regaining the consciousness he had lost for a moment, he silenced her line of questioning by taking her hands in his. She looked down, then back at him. Her worry only grew with the silence around them. She thought of every single gruesome scenario possible in the span of three seconds, but none of them were remotely near to what was really happening.

‘Ruby, I think I like you’ Aasim spat nervously ‘Actually, I don’t think...I know I really like you, and I can’t keep lying to myself or hiding this from you any longer…’

‘Aasim, I…’ The boy gently squeezed her hands in his, shutting her up immediately

‘I’ve liked you for years now...Louis found out recently and he has been teasing me about it. So, last night more people found out and that’s why they dared me to kiss you in front of them, but I didn’t want to put you through that kind of pressure because it wouldn’t have been fair if you didn’t like me back and if you don’t- If you don’t, that’s okay, I just wanted you to know the whole truth from me before someone else tells you something they shouldn’t’

She was astonished as he blurted out his confession to her with his eyes fixed on their hands.

She intertwined her fingers with his, anxiously biting her lower lip before speaking.

‘I like you too, Aasim’ She tried to hide her flushed cheeks with a timid grin

He looked up at her with round eyes that denoted a mixture of disbelief, adoration and a small hint of the fear that once overcame him. Her smile widened once she realized his face regained some color, too.

‘Feelin’ better?’ She asked softly. Aasim chuckled

‘So much better’ He assured her. She hesitantly leaned closer to his face, sending a shudder-like sensation up his spine. Just as he was about to meet her halfway, the door opened violently

‘The raiders are he-’ Mitch found them sitting close and looking flustered ‘Shit, sorry, I didn’t know you guys were...busy’ He smiled as he looked down at his friends’ hands.

Ruby followed his gaze and let go of Aasim’s hands almost as if she could make Mitch unsee what he just saw.

‘Did you just say the raiders are here?’ Aasim stood up, alarmed, making Mitch go back to the more urging situation.

‘Uh, yeah, Clem just saw them. They’ll be here in a couple of minutes. I have to tell the others’

‘We’ll see you there’ Ruby nodded at the boy before he ran off

‘Well…’ Aasim turned around and held her hands once again ‘It’s time…’

‘It’s time’ She repeated, anxiously.

A bell ringing in the courtyard demanded everyone’s presence.

Aasim tried to look outside, but Ruby brought him back to their personal buble with a small peck on his cheek.

‘Don’t be stupid and die on me, okay?’ He looked at her blushing as she uttered her timid plea and couldn’t resist it anymore.

He recovered the kiss she had stolen from him, making the time around them stop as their lips met in a short, tender encounter. It almost felt like their lives weren’t in grave impending danger. As much as they would have liked to stay a little longer in the greenhouse, there were much more pressing matters happening outside.

‘Don’t get kidnapped’ He reminded her

‘We’ll continue this conversation after it’s all over’ She embraced him as a way to give him and herself the strength they needed to fight and win.

(But you know what happened next)

[serpent-jugheadjones]

The Partner Revealed - Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Pairing: Jughead Jones x Reader

Description: Revelations on Jason’s case burn through.

Warnings: None I can think of. But I suck at warnings... 

Word count: 3281

A/N: Wow, it’s been more than a month since the last part was released and this one is more on the short side. Dog Days final part coming soon :)

Y/N’s point of view

Y/N wakes up in fright, heart pounding off her chest, barely breathing. The loud noises that interrupted her slumber are coming from downstairs. She gets up as quickly and silently as possible and grabs the baseball bat her uncle gave her when she turned 14, which has been neglected to the corner of the room ever since. Gathering all her courage, the girl walks down the stairs slowly, avoiding the creaking steps she learned to skip when sneaking out at night, hoping it’s not Jason’s killer, for a 16-year-old with a bat she doesn't even know how to use won’t stand a chance against someone with a gun that has already killed a teenager.

At the bottom of the stairs someone is coming up with boxes covering their face. She gets scared and swings, missing whoever is there by a hair. “Wow. Sweetie, it’s me.” Her father’s familiar voice calms her. He drops his box at the step and takes the baseball bat from her as she still looks distressed. It takes her a few seconds to process she’s safe, but as soon as she does, her arms are around her father. “No love for moma?” Y/N sees her mother, of whom she’s the spitting image, standing by the open front door. She runs down to hug the woman just as tight as she did her dad.  “You guys didn't tell me you were coming.”, she says, happy to see them instead of a killer. “We wanted to surprise you.” “That you sure did.” They all laugh, as that wasn't exactly the welcome they were expecting. “Do you need help unpacking?” Y/N notices the mess everywhere. “No, you go get ready for school. We’ll deal with all this”, her mother instructs, pointing at everything around the living-room with a ‘why did we brought so much stuff’ look.

Y/N gets back to her room without any guilt for not helping them. She’s used to them coming back home with extra luggage. The girl did try to help once, but they just ended up making a bigger mess. It’s a lot earlier than she planned on waking up, so she takes that time to finish her articles for the Blue and Gold. Time flies by and she only notices when her belly roars in hunger. The girl quickly changes out of her pijamas into high waisted jeans and a loose tank top. Reaching the kitchen, she finds suitcases and boxes full of stuff they brought from the trip piled everywhere, making it impossible to eat, let alone cook there. “I’m going to Pop’s for breakfast.”, she shouts grabbing a jacket from the coat hanger. “Wait! We didn't even have time to catch up.” Her mom comes out from behind a pile of boxes. “We’ll do that at dinner, when I come back to this house the way it was before you arrived, young lady.”, Y/N says playfully. “Oh. Bring your boyfriend for dinner.”, Y/F/N requests. “He’s not my boyfriend.” She blushes. “Of course not, you just spend a lot of time with him, talking about him, thinking about him...”, Y/M/N teases. “Ok, I got it. See ya later.” Y/N blows them a kiss and heads out.

The girl is glad to be reminded of Jughead. She texts him on her way to the diner. 

From: Y/N

Wanna have breakfast at Pop’s? My treat.

From: Jughead

Would love to, but I’m heading to Betty’s for breakfast. I’m gonna distract her mom while she tries to find out where Polly was taken to. 

Y/N doesn't reply, perplexed to why she wasn't included in their plan. She’s not mad at Jug, but rather disappointed in Betty. After the memorial, she was sure they were on the same page. Clearly not. Nonetheless, she’s not gonna let that stop her from getting the best milkshakes in town before class.

Jughead’s point of view

The chair in the Blue and Gold office is way more comfortable than his mattress on the floor. Nevertheless, whenever Jughead tries to sleep there, he ends up staying up late, writing. Tonight is one of those nights. Without any major development on the Jason Blossom case, the novelist doesn't really have much to add to the story but editing is just as important. Jug can’t move past the paragraph about the first time he met Y/N by the edge of Sweet Water River just after the body was removed. It’s the way she’s written in, skeptical and cold, that got him stuck, realizing he doesn't relate to that at all. Even so, at the same time, it’s how he felt back then. Since he promised she’d be the first to read his finished work, the writer can’t imagine letting her read those as his first words about her.

After much editing, he’s finally happy with the end result of Y/N’s introduction to the story. The clock on his screen shows it just turned 6 am. He could try and get some sleep, but the boy remembers the long overdue paper he has to deliver and not a single sentence written yet. School work isn't really his forte. Forty-five minutes go by and Jug’s staring at his laptop screen, motionless, not even all the cold coffee left in his thermos flask would be enough to keep him awake, so he decides to take a power nap before leaving for Betty’s. Jughead just slouches back on the chair and crosses his feet over the table. Leaving the office would mean 15 minutes wasted wondering the school halls till his ‘room’ and he can’t afford to lose a single one. He’s woken up by a text from Y/N, inviting him to eat at Pop’s, rather than his alarm clock. 

Of course he would 100 times prefer to have breakfast with Y/N at the Chock’lit Shoppe than with Betty and her mom, but the fate of their investigation could rest with whatever information they can get out of Polly, and for that they need to know where she is. That’s something they can only get from Alice and everything is set for today. Jughead just hopes the Y/H/C girl understands that. He can’t help thinking if she had texted a little earlier he would most definitely have had two breakfasts. 

A couple of waffles in, some OJ and both silent and vocal insults from Alice, Betty gives him the sign to get her mom out of the room, which is as easy as asking for the bathroom. When he returns, the blonde is already waiting for him by the front door with an accomplished look. Jughead thanks Alice for the ‘hospitality’ before they leave hurriedly. He can’t wait to share this with Y/N.

Y/N’s point of view

Y/N uses her free period to drop her finished articles at the Blue and Gold not expecting to run into Betty and Jughead in there. “It's a Home for troubled youths.Where disenfranchised teens will learn such virtues as discipline and respect, enjoying lives of quiet reflection and servitude.”, Jug quotes. “Poor Polly.“, Bets says. “So you found out?”, Y/N asks, reveling her presence in the room. She can see the blonde dig her nails in her palms and go from a hateful to calm face within seconds. “Y/N/N! So glad you could join us. Juggie was very helpful in us finding out where Polly is.”, Betty says on fake-nice tone, stroking Jug’s arm, making him cringe and Y/N’s face grow red. “Where is that?”, the Y/H/C girl inquires, trying to not sound weird out by the whole ordeal. “The Sisters of Quiet Mercy. Sounds creepy, I know.”, the raven-haired boy replies. “When are we going?”, Y/N asks enthusiastically, as this would be their first group operation. “I think it’s best if just me and Juggie go. Too many people can call attention.”, the vixen replies coarsely. “I disagree.” Jughead stands up and walks away from Betty. “The more the merrier. If things go south we can create a diversion, plus Y/N can drive us there.” There’s no valid argument Betty could use to explain why she doesn't want Y/N with them. The Y/E/C eyes meet Jug’s blueish ones in gratitude for standing up for her.

The bell for lunch rings and they leave the office to the courtyard. They find the table where Archie is sitting next to Valerie, with a melancholic expression. Betty walks a little faster than them and sits in the corner of the bench, forcing Jug to sit in the middle and Y/N next to him in the other corner. “I think we should do it after school.”, Bets suggests, probably because she knows Y/N has an extra class today. “Sure, that works for me.”, the Y/H/C girl agrees and takes a sip from her soda. Playing Betty’s game isn't really something she wants to do, but she’s not just about to leave Jug alone with her again. “What are you guys talking about? Anything I can help with?”, Archie inquiries, begging to be a part of it, same way Y/N has to fight for her spot in. “What we're attempting is a stealth operation, Archie. If we go in there with the entire Scooby Gang, forget it, we're compromised.”, Jug explains, eating the last of his tortilla chips. The ginger boy looks even more miserable at that, but at soon as Veronica arrives, his gloominess changes, since she offers to play with him at the Variety Show. Y/N understands Jughead’s gestures of asking for her bag of potato chips and gives it to him with a smile, only to watch Betty making fists with her hands once again.

Now that her parents are home, Y/N can’t just skip class so she heads into her classroom acting sick. Lucky for her she’s very convincing and the teacher let’s her out without any problems. She meets Jug and Betty by the front gate so they can walk together to her house where she’ll get her mom’s car to drive them to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy building. The girl asks them to wait on the corner while she gets the car. Y/N’s not in the mood to explain to her parents what they are doing. Not too long goes by and they hear the loud roar of the Impala. “I call shotgun.” Jughead says opening the door so that Betty can seat in the back.

Jughead’s point of view

They arrive at the reception. The place looks more like a prison than a home. Betty hands the nun her ID and she’s allowed in, but Jughead and Y/N have to stay back. “What do you think she’s gonna find?”, the girl asks as they sit on a bench in the lobby. “The truth. Whatever that is.”, he answers. Soon after, they are asked to wait in a room. The doctor insists on them moving, not taking into consideration their attempts to prove they’re fine where they are. “Are we being committed now?” Y/N tries to open the window, to no success. “No. But that may have been a better outcome.” Jug makes her turn around to see Alice Cooper by the door with a furious look. 

They are being escorted out by doctors. Before they reach the door, Polly comes out from a corner. She loses control and start screaming at her mom for not telling her what happened to Jason. Y/N tries to block one of the doctors from holding Betty, so the blonde can hug her sister. “Don’t touch her.” Jughead throws himself in front of the Y/H/C girl as the doctor was just about to pin her on the wall. They all watch as the pregnant mourning girl is dragged out. Jug is met with a different, darker view of what he thought was a perfect family.

At the parking lot, Alice instructs Betty to wait in the car and she walks away with both a grateful and apologetic look. Thanks to them, she got to see her sister, although because of that her mother is just about to lecture them. “I didn't expect this of you, Y/N.” The girl can’t meet Mrs. Cooper’s eyes. “She was doing...”, the boy starts. “Jug...” She nods her head from side to side interrupting him. “That’s right, Jughead. Y/N doesn't need you to defend her. She knows she’s wrong.”, Alice spits with her eyes still watery. “No. Betty has a right to know what’s going on with her sister. And THIS... exiling your own daughter because she’s pregnant. I didn't expect THAT from you.” Y/N opens the car door and gets in without looking back at Alice. Jughead follows her actions and they drive away. 

“Where should I drop you off?”, she asks. Jughead is silent for a while, figuring out the best way out of this. “How about we just go to Pop’s?”, he suggests, defensively. “Sure. After this, all I need is a double chocolate shake with waffles.” Y/N changes their route to the Chock’lit Shoppe. “Waffles? For dinner?” The raven-haired boy laughs. “Don’t judge me, Mr. Coffee-before-bed-ops-I-have-insomnia.”, the girl teases and they both laugh. Y/N keeping her eyes off the road a little longer than she should’ve. Juggie is sure he caught her glimpsing at his lips but this isn't the right time for it so he just focuses on their order. He’s temped on the waffles as well, but the usual burger wins every time.

Of course he stole a few bites from Y/N’s delicious sweet treat, making the girl fake-mad and him fake-innocent. However, a sweet grin vanishes from his face as fast as it appeared since she offered to drive him home once again. “I think I’m just gonna stay here, enjoy the free coffee refills and write a bit.” Jug hates not being able to tell her why he’s not going home. Luckily she doesn't look suspicious to his reasons for staying. “How about tomorrow we have actual food for dinner? My place?”, Y/N asks confidently. “Sounds good.” The boy loves Pop’s, but the thought of real food makes his stomach fluster. The girl slides off the booth and walks out of the diner, leaving Jug wishing there was a white chocolate and ginger milkshake so he could still smell her.

Y/N’s point of view

 Light tapping on Y/N’s bedroom window startles her. “Jug?” She surprises herself as this is the second time she calls him by his nickname. The boy is on a ladder the girl wasn't even aware they owned. “Hey there, Juliet.”, he proclaims, getting in. “You do know we have a front door?”, Y/N asks rhetorically. “There was an unfamiliar car in your driveway.”, he states, looking around the posters on her walls and some of the books on her shelves before turning to face her. “So you decided to climb up?” She waves her hands in confusion. “Could've been the killer. I may as well have saved your life.” Her heart beats faster as he walks closer and closer. “Also...” Jughead breaths in, his eyes switching from her lips to her Y/E/C orbs. He guides his hands to each side of her cheeks. Without hesitation Jug leans in, meeting their lips in a sweet, passionate kiss. Y/N is dazed by his actions and takes a few seconds to kiss back. But their moment is interrupted by her father knocking on the door. “Dinner is almost ready. When is your friend coming?”, he shouts through the hallway. “Soon.”, Y/N replies with a wide smile, looking up at that amazing boy in front of her, who just gave this fortunate overjoyed pleased teen her first kiss. 

They walk down the stairs to the kitchen. “Where did Jughead come from?”, her mother asks, suspiciously. “You know Nightcrawler, right? Ta-da!”, Y/N points at the boy, implying he teleported. “Are you hiding a tail under that flannel?”, her father jokes. “No, I've got my holographic clock on.” Jughead shows his wrist, with a bracelet rather a clock, but the reference to X-Men: Evolution still stands. Y/N’s sporting an amazed look at his knowledge on the series. “Ok, Kurt. you can sit here.” Y/F/N point at the seat next to his daughters usual place and winks at the girl. Laughter and conversation fill the room. Y/M/N shares stories about their travel, Y/F/N talks about some of his less bloody cases, and Jughead gives them movies suggestions. Y/N is loving every second of it. However, as soon as they finish the main course, Jug’s phone buzzes. He shows Y/N the text.

From: Betty

Meet me at route 40 by the Maple Syrup sign. 

Both teens look at each other, knowing they have to go, because it could be about the case they are desperate to solve. “Mom, we’re gonna skip desert, we have to go meet some friends.”, Y/N tells them, seeing the disappointed look in Jug’s face. “That’s ok, honey. Call us if you’re gonna be later than really late.”, her mother says. “Thank you for dinner Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. It was delicious.”, Jughead says. “Oh, please. Calls us Y/M/N and Y/F/N and you’re very welcome.”, her father replies, taking out their plates.

Y/N parks the Impala when she spots Betty by the roadside under the pouring rain. She doesn't look happy, and not about being soaking wet, but at the sight of an accompanied Jughead. “How...” The blonde doesn't even have time to finish when Jug cuts her off. “I was having dinner at Y/N’s when I got your text. It, seemed odd you didn't send her one.”, he speaks firmly, making sure this doesn't go any further. “So, why are we here?”, Y/N asks, looking around. “Polly told me about a getaway car Jason had ready for them. I wonder if it’s still here.”, Betty says, handing each a flashlight and directing them towards the sign. Even with the little visibility they have it’s not hard to find the vehicle, covered with tarpaulin and leafs as it has been there for a while now. 

They remove the protective layers and open the trunk, revealing suitcases and Jason’s varsity jacket. “What are those?”, Betty asks, pointing at something in plastic wrap. “Drugs...” Jughead picks one up. “JUG!”, Y/N shouts, making him drop the evidence. “Fingerprints...”, she explains, rubbing everything they touched with the sleeve of her sweater. “This is all evidence, we need to talk to Sheriff Keller and get Polly.”, the blonde girl states. “This whole car is a crime scene.” Jughead takes a few pictures with his phone before they leave to warn the Sheriff about it. 

Sadly, by the time Sheriff Keller arrives at the site, the car is in flames, and Polly isn't at The Sisters of Quiet Mercy anymore.