sirowsky
sirowsky
this place makes me happy.
3K posts
Follow my writing blog Sirowsky-Stories for writing updates, this one is a mess of allsorts. My blogs are always 18+. She/her born June 30th 1986. Friendly, forgetful, tired Swedish nurse.
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sirowsky · 20 hours ago
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First of all, things must have been difficult for you, I'm here. Second, happy early birthday.
Thank you ❤️🌻
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sirowsky · 4 days ago
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Are you a fanfiction writer?
Hi, person-who-doesn't-say-hello.
Yes, one look at my tumblr page will confirm I am indeed a writer, as the pinned post at the top of my page is my masterlist.
Is there a reason you couldn't be bothered to check this for yourself?
Also, it takes one extra second to write hello and be polite, thereby minimizing the risk that the person you're writing to is gonna get annoyed, like I am right now. And while we're on the subject of good manners, a question like this would make a lot more sense if you added an explanation for why you're asking, because I'm seriously wondering if this is a bot asking, rather than a person.
Sincerely,
A Pedro Pascal fanfiction writer.
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sirowsky · 4 days ago
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I envy every aspect of this. I'm also very happy to see that relationships like this are real and happening in this often so cruel and intolerant world ❤️
Thank you for sharing!
i met my bf’s sister for the first time yesterday and she’s one of the sweetest people alive. i was so nervous about meeting her but it was really chill and she is v happy for her brother and very moved by our relationship and kept being like ‘🥹it’s so beautiful’ which was :,,,)
and then we hung out most of today and it was just three neurodivergent ppl against a busy saturday market and we all got overstimulated at the same time and left. me with adhd, her with autism and him with adhd and autism all just went 😐😶 it’s time to go home. then bf made chai and then everyone napped. 10/10
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sirowsky · 13 days ago
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🩵
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sirowsky · 15 days ago
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This is the Tumblr version of sorcery. I love it.
Reblog If You Can Take Off Your Bra Without Taking Your Shirt Off.
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sirowsky · 16 days ago
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Hey, Tumblr folks. Just a quick reminder regarding people struggling with their mental health:
Please, don't tell us you're here if we wanna talk.
Why? Because it puts the responsibility of communication on the person who's struggling. And when we can barely muster the strength to eat for days at a time, asking someone to talk to us becomes just another burden.
When we are always the ones that have to reach out, we start to feel like you don't actually want to talk to us, not just about what we're struggling with, but about anything at all. We feel unwelcome. Like leaches.
So, please, take a minute to send a simple hello. A reel. A funny picture. Anything at all to help us feel like we're invited into your world. Or we will eventually stop reaching out.
I promise, you're not bothering us. Even if we're at the depths of despair, unwilling to engage with anything, we will appreciate the invitation. We might not reply every time, but keep trying.
We still need you ❤️
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sirowsky · 19 days ago
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instagram
Happy duckie 🦆
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sirowsky · 24 days ago
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Happy Pride!
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sirowsky · 2 months ago
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Hi, everyone ☺️
Just popping in to say that I am writing on the Pero story, the second date is happening, progress is just a bit slow.
I'm dealing with a lot personally right now and working on getting the help I need, so please be patient 🙏
I love you and I'm doing my best ❤️
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sirowsky · 2 months ago
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@grogusmum Right? I mean...
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The Old Prince
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So, this is my entry for the Halloween themed Pedro Pascal Writing Challenge hosted by @pedrocontestsrus Thank you for organizing this! And if anyone else is interested in entering the competition, here's a link to the post with all the info.
I chose Prompt #2 Theme: A Dark and Stormy Night. However, I suck at short, so this is basically just a teaser which I'm gonna have to continue outside of the contest.
Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Game of Thrones AU, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses, reader is attacked and abducted. Also, this is my first time writing Oberyn. Word Count: 4041 Author's Masterlist
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   You run at full speed despite the darkness, ignoring the burning in your lungs and the furious pounding of your heart, even though you know that he’s already gone and that your running would only scare him off if he wasn’t.    The woods have always scared you and even now, in your mid-thirties, you still panic when you’re alone among the creaking old trees, spider webs and nightly active animals, all of whom seem intent on eating you. At least, to your own imagination.
   “Damned it, Casper…” you breathlessly curse the horse for leaving you, once you’ve been forced to a stop by the pain in your lungs.
   He’s normally very brave but being in the woods in the middle of a building storm is apparently too much even for his stout heart.    So, you’re left to walk the remaining four miles to your house, and not for the first time, you find yourself wondering why the hell you’d chosen to live all the way out here, surrounded by the very woods that have always been such a source of discomfort to you.
   “Because that was all you could afford, dimwit,” you chastise yourself out loud.
   The house you now live in had been put up for sale after the previous owner had been missing for a few years and was eventually declared dead, despite her body never being found.    It’s small and old, but well maintained and very charming, so you’d been surprised to be the only one interested in it.
   You’ve lived there for over six years now and while it’s a bit secluded and a little too far from town, you do love it.    The hiking trails leading up to the seven hills that make up the east boundary of the region run right by your property, and in daylight, you love to ride or just wander up to the peaks and admire the view.
   There are rarely any larger wildlife passing through so for the most part, it’s quite safe, so long as you remember to bring water and check for lose rocks on the steeper sections of the trails.    But now, in the near pitch-black darkness of night, you can’t even recognize the trail you’re on. So, why are you even out here?
   Well, that would be because you’d started out in daylight, as usual, but then gotten involved in a search for another missing person in the hills, which had left you out there until well after nightfall.    You had of course expected Casper to bring you home safe and sound, like he usually does no matter what’s going on around him. But unfortunately, on this occasion, the horse had lost its footing and fallen to the ground.
   He’d gotten up without trouble, but since you’d no longer been on his back at that point, he’d gotten spooked, probably by the reins getting caught in his legs or something, and had taken off.    You hope that he gets home without hurting himself, but you’re also quite angry with him for not recognizing your voice and staying by your side instead of running off on his own.
   But your thoughts are disrupted by a creaking sound coming from behind you, a sound definitely not created by a tree.    You stop, feeling a cold shiver move slowly down your spine, and you know that you’re in danger. You have no idea exactly what is watching you right now, but you know that something is.
   You hear that same sound again, mere moments after the first, and even as you instinctively set off running, too panicked to even know if you’re still on the trail, your mind tries to work out what the hell that sound is.    The winds are picking up, building towards the forecasted storm that has all the kids in town excited because of how perfect it is for the Halloween celebration, but it’s making it so much harder for you to hear if something’s chasing you.
   Unable to stop yourself, you throw a look over your right shoulder, and a strangled scream escapes you when you catch a glimpse of something impossibly large and strangely shiny, and then just teeth.    You try to run faster but you can’t. The dark world around you is a blur as you wait for those teeth to sink into your flesh and torture you to death. It seems to take so long.
   And then it happens.    You’re snagged to a stop so quickly that it makes your legs lift off the ground as they’re kicked forwards by the momentum.    Something has your shoulder between its jaws, but that’s as much as you’re aware of before the world fades away and nothing exists anymore.
-=¤=-
   You wake up on a bed in a room with a strange ceiling and stone walls. You’re groggy and only half awake, so it takes you a moment to realize that there are paintings covering the ceiling, making the stones look kind of fluid.    Beautiful images of stormy seas and a red sunset flow across the domed shape, bringing it to life in a way that stone shouldn’t be capable of.
   Then you remember, and bring your left hand up to examine your right shoulder, half expecting it to just not be there. But it is, and it feels fine.    You sit up, relieved but also confused that there’s no pain, and as your bare feet hit the cold floors, your eyes are drawn to the rest of the room.    It’s round and there’s a window in every direction, revealing the daylight outside, but also every detail inside.
   The bed is easily large enough for two people, and the sheets and blankets are the softest you’ve ever felt. There’s a loveseat underneath one of the windows, with plush pillows leaned against the armrests. In the middle of the room is a carpet which you can tell just by looking at it, likely costs more than your house. And the curtains, four matching pairs, all a deep red, somehow seem both heavy and feathery light.
   There’s a door to your left, and it’s standing open, so at least you’re not a prisoner. But you don’t feel like one regardless. All of this is so strange, because you’re sure that something bit you, but you can’t find any wounds in your skin.    There are holes in your shirt, though. And where’s your jacket? Why are you barefoot?
   You head for the door and find a winding staircase leading down, so this is apparently a tower.    At the foot of the stairs is a corridor and then more stairs, twirling the other way this time, so you keep heading down, passing closed doors and empty spaces until you reach a pair of large double doors that are left wide open.
   There’s a fire crackling inside and your cold feet and bare arms have left you shivering, so you head inside, finding the biggest open fireplace you’ve ever seen, in the other end of the huge room.    It must be a ballroom or excessively large dining room, but it’s completely empty, save for a padded short stool in front of the fire.
   You sit and warm yourself, trying to think back, to remember any details that might help you understand what’s happened to you, but nothing comes to mind.    And then a movement to your right startles you to your feet.
   “My apologies, miss. I have a habit of moving quietly,” a dark and low voice says, and when you locate the man who that voice belongs to, you’re momentarily stunned into silence.
   He’s tall and broad, but quite lean, with a perfectly chiseled jaw and a beard trimmed to accentuate that. He wears no jewelry, but his dark green coat has golden threads and small embroideries on the cuffs and along the collar. Shapes too small for you to make out at ten feet of distance, but which from afar remind you of snakes.    Still, it’s his eyes that rob your brain of most its function.
   So dark, but also incredibly expressive. He’s curious, intrigued, but wary. As though you might pose a threat to him somehow, which seems impossible to you.
   “W-… Where are my shoes?” you manage to croak, still unable to break away from his eyes.
   “I took your shoes and your jacket to encourage you not to run away once you awoke. I’m afraid I am going to need you to remain here for the time being,” the man explains, and suddenly your brain wakes up in full.
   “So, I’m your captive, is that what you’re telling me?”
   “Yes, and no. You are my captive, as much as I am yours.”
   “What’s that supposed to mean? I have no idea who you are,” you counter, getting angry because that’s all you can do to keep from panicking.
   “My name is Oberyn, and this is my home. You’re welcome to explore as much as you like, but I would recommend staying away from the basement. Especially at night.”
   “Why? Do you have more prisoners down there you don’t want me to set free?”
   “Oh, there are cages down there, and many of them are occupied,” he says, while taking a few steps closer to you. “But I doubt that you would want to release any of the creatures that are locked inside.”
   Creatures? What the hell does he mean by that?    He’s only three feet away when he stops, just as the outside light catches his eyes at a different angle, and you can swear that you see something else within them. A bright golden shine seems to illuminate them from within for just a fraction of a second, as if reacting to the sun’s rays.
   “The tower is yours. I will not venture there without your approval for the duration of your stay.    But the rest of the castle is my domain, and you move through it at your own risk. Do you understand?” he asks, to which your anger flares.
   “Understand? No… I really don’t.    Who are you?! What is this place, where the hell am I?! There aren’t any castles anywhere near the seven hills! And what the hell was it that chased me last night, and why do I have bitemarks in my shirt but not on my skin?    What the fuck is going on?!”
   He lets you scream and rant without so much as a twitch bothering his mustache, and says nothing as you begin to pace in front of the fireplace, crossing your arms in silent defiance, but also an attempt to guard yourself against all this strangeness.
   “You were bitten by a serpent,” he quietly says, just as you’re about to give up and leave the room.
   “It was a lot bigger than any snake, and it had a lot more than two fangs,” you counter, all but spitting at him now, further angered by the notion that he might be trying to convince you that you imagined the whole thing.
   “I didn’t say that it was a snake,” he replies, and you stop pacing.
   “And what is a serpent if not a damned snake?” you challenge, but he seems unbothered.
   “Is that all it can be? You must think broader than that, young one.”
   His words make no sense to you. Serpent, snake, fucking danger noodle, it’s all the same.    And “young one”? He’s at most five years older than you.
   “Please, just tell me where we are?” you finally ask, deciding that there’s probably no point in trying to argue with this mystery man.
   He looks at you for a good minute then, as if trying to decide if he should answer, and you notice that he doesn’t blink a lot, which is surprisingly unsettling.
   “We are six hundred and nine miles from your home. Give or take a few dozen feet.”
   That takes you a second to process.
   “What!?” you almost scream, unable to take any more of this incomprehensible nonsense. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you had a fucking helicopter hidden in the woods, or something?”
   “Take a look outside the windows,” he calmly suggests. “I’m sure the snow on the ground will help you come to terms with the truth that you are no longer as far south as you think.”
   Unwilling to take his word for it, you walk over to the nearest window, where the view makes your heart sink. Because he’s right.    Not only are there several inches of snow covering everything in sight, but you also don’t recognize the landscape at all.    And that’s when the realization of just how much trouble you’re in, finally dawns on you.
   Turning away from the window, you now meet your captor’s eyes, for the first time with fear brimming within your own. Unable to stop yourself, you try to back away from him but there’s a wall in the way, so you start moving sideways instead, heading for the open double doors of the room.    He doesn’t try to stop you, but just before you turn your back to him as you’re crossing the threshold, his expression turns incredibly sad.
   You run through the halls, fully panicking now and having no idea where you’re even going. But then another set of large double doors are in front of you, so you grab the handle on one of them and pull it open.    It’s the front entrance. You’re standing on the top ledge of another staircase, this one twisting off in both directions, leading down to a massive courtyard.
   There’s a fountain in the shape of a rearing Pegasus in the middle, so big that the lilac shrubs which surrounds it barely even reach halfway up its hindlegs. And beyond that, is a giant garden of cherry trees and rhododendron hedges, in the middle of which, a wide driveway comes straight through, right up to the courtyard.    A driveway that’s so long, you can’t even see the end of it, where it disappears into the surrounding woods.
   You couldn’t run from here even with your shoes and jacket.
   The freezing wind brushes over your exposed skin, making you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself while sorrow suddenly burns through you, bringing tears to your eyes.    But then something soft and warm falls over your shoulders and you flinch, spinning on your heels and quickly backing away, further out onto the ledge to try and get away from him, which means stepping into the icy cold snow in just your skin.
   “Please…” he says, and he sounds alluringly soft and inviting now, which only adds to your suspicions. “I have no intention of harming you.”
   “Then how about you tell me what exactly your intention is?” you counter, barely able to keep your jaws from clattering with how badly you’ve started shaking.
   He takes a deep breath and then slowly releases it, somehow looking sadder and more tired with each milliliter of air that escapes him.
   “I just… I’m sorry. Please, come back inside before you get frostbite on your feet.”
   “That’s n-not an answer,” you challenge, already trembling all over now.
   “I know, this is why I’m sorry, but how is hurting yourself going to help the situation?” he wonders, and you have to concede that it doesn’t.
   You huff once in defiance, and then step forward, allowing him to wrap the blanket around you. But you hadn’t expected him to sweep you up into his arms and carry you inside.
   “Hey, I c-can still walk, p-put me down!”
   “The floors are cold here. I will put you down once you’re in a room with a rug.”
   “Or you c-could just give me b-back my shoes,” you gripe, and he hums in what sounds like a thoughtful manner to you, as if he’s conceding that maybe he was wrong to take them from you.
   But he says nothing more, and as he carries you through the empty hallways, none of which look familiar to you because this place is apparently a damned maze, you steal a few closer glances at him.    His skin is in better condition than yours ever has been, to the point where even his stubble looks soft. And his hair looks flawless. Not one strand of the curls on his head seems damaged or less bouncy than the rest. And the same goes for his beard and mustache.
   His clothes are perfectly tailored, and they look new, but they don’t smell like it. Instead, the only smell you detect seems to be his, and it’s not at all unpleasant. Contrarily, the longer you smell him, the more inviting the scent becomes.    You’re somewhat embarrassed to realize that you’ve stopped shivering with the warmth that spreads through you from within, just from that delicious scent.
   The room that he finally turns into is small and smells of paper, reminiscent of the old bookstore in the city back home, run by a sweetheart of an old lady who also happens to be the grandmother of the missing woman who’s house you live in.    She was the only one who’d come by with a housewarming gift after you’d moved in. That’s how sparsely populated your social circle is.
   It looks to be an office, of sorts. There’s a fireplace here too, already lit and crackling warmly in the far corner of the room. To the left is a desk filled with scrolls of paper and what looks like old maps of countries you don’t recognize, and to the right are shelves filled with more scrolls, books and scraps of paper.    There’s an armchair and a small sofa in front of the fire, and he sets you down on the sofa before kneeling in front of you to inspect your wet and freezing feet.
   You’re about to argue that you’re perfectly capable of tending to your own extremities, but something about his touch stops you.    His fingers seem warmer than they should be, almost feverishly so, but more than that, his skin feels like it’s giving off tiny electric impulses where it meets yours. And the feeling is highly intoxicating.
   He quickly examines your feet and then sits back and looks up at you again, where a curious expression flashes across his features as he notices that you’re suddenly a bit out of it. He seems concerned at first, and then… is he blushing?
   “If I get you your socks and your boots, will you promise me that you will not go running into the woods and getting yourself lost?” he asks, sternly holding your gaze while he looks for any traces of deception in your answer.
   Except you don’t give any. Because you can’t make that promise. Not when you still don’t know why he’s brought you here or why he intends to keep you here.
   “I don’t suppose it would make much difference if I told you that we are much too far away from any other people for you to make it there alive in winter?” he sighs, and he does seem genuinely worried that you won’t believe him.
   “Actually, I do believe you on that part. I just also believe that dying while running for your freedom might be better than living in captivity,” you explain, and once again, something terribly sad comes over him.
   “I really wish you could trust that I don’t intend to harm you, young one.”
   “Why do you call me that? I can’t be that much younger than you.”
   He chuckles drily at that, but it’s a sound of hopelessness rather than bemusement.
   “If only that were true…” he says quietly, turning his gaze to the floor for a moment before he rises and leaves the room.
   When he returns, only a few seconds later, he’s carrying your shoes and wool socks, both of which he appears to have cleaned, hands them to you and then steps back while you put them on.    For a moment, you contemplate more questions, but the more you think about the strangeness of this whole situation, the more you just want to pretend that it’s a dream and that you’re gonna wake up and laugh at yourself any second now.
   “The tower’s mine?” you find yourself asking, instead of any real questions.
   “That whole wing is yours for as long as you’re here,” he nods.
   “And how long might that be?”
   “For now, I can’t say with any certainty, but hopefully no more than a few days.”
   He does look genuinely apologetic as he says that, but you’re relieved to hear it. Somehow, you’d envisioned being a captive for years, locked away in that tower. But there’s something innately honest about this guy. You have no reason to trust anything he says, and yet you do.
   “And what determines how long my stay ends up being?” you wonder, while rising from the sofa and daring yourself to take one step towards him.
   He doesn’t react in any visible way to your truly minimal challenge, but you wonder if perhaps he likes that you don’t just accept your circumstances when they don’t feel right to you. There’s a little glimmer in his eyes that might just be a hint of awe.
   “How long it takes me to figure out how you’re still alive,” he quietly answers, bringing you back to the severity of the moment.
   Turning away from you, he reaches for an old-fashioned candlestick holder, lights the candle and then hands it to you.
   “Living light reveals the path to the tower,” he says, as if that isn’t the most useless piece of information you’ve ever gotten, and then gestures to the open door.
   Utterly confused, you step out into the dusky hallway, half expecting the wooden door to slam shut behind you, but it doesn’t.    When you turn back to ask him which direction to turn, you find him right behind you, already showing you to the right with a gentlemanly open hand aiming that way.    You nod your thanks and begin walking, still without a clue as to what the candle is meant to show you. Until it does.
   Once the dancing light hits a certain wall, a faint glow appears in a thin line running along the wall, around waist-height.    You follow it, seeing it fade away as soon as the flame isn’t directly in front of it, and before you know it, you’re back at those winding stairs.    Walking back into the chamber at the top, you find that nothing’s moved since you left.
   You walk around the room, examining everything more closely, finding two large and fully stocked bookcases hidden behind drapes on either side of the fireplace. There’s also a closet built into the wall next to the bed, and there are very old dresses hanging in there, covered with dust, making you wonder who the girl might’ve been that those clothes had originally belonged to.
   Realizing that you haven’t asked your captor how to get food or how he intends to figure out how you’ve miraculously healed, you spend a few minutes pondering on whether you’ve got the energy to make the long walk back down to look for a kitchen and ask if you’re expected to come down from your tower at any specific times.    But ultimately, you decide to leave it for now, picking out a book instead. You’re too stressed still to be able to eat anything anyway.
   The book keeps you occupied for the entire afternoon, and it isn’t until it grows dark that you eventually close it and get up, intending to go looking for that kitchen.    You’d left the candle holder in the window that faces the front of the castle, although you can’t see the courtyard from behind the main structure, but as you go to pick it up, a movement outside catches your eye.
   Peering down towards the ground, you see a door swing open, and then something runs across the section of the yard that you can see. It’s so fast that you can’t be sure, but it looks like it could be what attacked you last night.    And it looks like… a dragon.    A dragon that just ran out of the same castle where you’re trapped.
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Part 2
Thank you for reading! I had so much fun with this and I'm nowhere near done with it. Huge Thanks to @joelswritingmistress for inspiring me to take on Oberyn, I didn't think I ever would.
If anyone wishes to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.
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sirowsky · 2 months ago
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@jessthebaker Have at it, babes.
The Old Prince
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So, this is my entry for the Halloween themed Pedro Pascal Writing Challenge hosted by @pedrocontestsrus Thank you for organizing this! And if anyone else is interested in entering the competition, here's a link to the post with all the info.
I chose Prompt #2 Theme: A Dark and Stormy Night. However, I suck at short, so this is basically just a teaser which I'm gonna have to continue outside of the contest.
Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Game of Thrones AU, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses, reader is attacked and abducted. Also, this is my first time writing Oberyn. Word Count: 4041 Author's Masterlist
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   You run at full speed despite the darkness, ignoring the burning in your lungs and the furious pounding of your heart, even though you know that he’s already gone and that your running would only scare him off if he wasn’t.    The woods have always scared you and even now, in your mid-thirties, you still panic when you’re alone among the creaking old trees, spider webs and nightly active animals, all of whom seem intent on eating you. At least, to your own imagination.
   “Damned it, Casper…” you breathlessly curse the horse for leaving you, once you’ve been forced to a stop by the pain in your lungs.
   He’s normally very brave but being in the woods in the middle of a building storm is apparently too much even for his stout heart.    So, you’re left to walk the remaining four miles to your house, and not for the first time, you find yourself wondering why the hell you’d chosen to live all the way out here, surrounded by the very woods that have always been such a source of discomfort to you.
   “Because that was all you could afford, dimwit,” you chastise yourself out loud.
   The house you now live in had been put up for sale after the previous owner had been missing for a few years and was eventually declared dead, despite her body never being found.    It’s small and old, but well maintained and very charming, so you’d been surprised to be the only one interested in it.
   You’ve lived there for over six years now and while it’s a bit secluded and a little too far from town, you do love it.    The hiking trails leading up to the seven hills that make up the east boundary of the region run right by your property, and in daylight, you love to ride or just wander up to the peaks and admire the view.
   There are rarely any larger wildlife passing through so for the most part, it’s quite safe, so long as you remember to bring water and check for lose rocks on the steeper sections of the trails.    But now, in the near pitch-black darkness of night, you can’t even recognize the trail you’re on. So, why are you even out here?
   Well, that would be because you’d started out in daylight, as usual, but then gotten involved in a search for another missing person in the hills, which had left you out there until well after nightfall.    You had of course expected Casper to bring you home safe and sound, like he usually does no matter what’s going on around him. But unfortunately, on this occasion, the horse had lost its footing and fallen to the ground.
   He’d gotten up without trouble, but since you’d no longer been on his back at that point, he’d gotten spooked, probably by the reins getting caught in his legs or something, and had taken off.    You hope that he gets home without hurting himself, but you’re also quite angry with him for not recognizing your voice and staying by your side instead of running off on his own.
   But your thoughts are disrupted by a creaking sound coming from behind you, a sound definitely not created by a tree.    You stop, feeling a cold shiver move slowly down your spine, and you know that you’re in danger. You have no idea exactly what is watching you right now, but you know that something is.
   You hear that same sound again, mere moments after the first, and even as you instinctively set off running, too panicked to even know if you’re still on the trail, your mind tries to work out what the hell that sound is.    The winds are picking up, building towards the forecasted storm that has all the kids in town excited because of how perfect it is for the Halloween celebration, but it’s making it so much harder for you to hear if something’s chasing you.
   Unable to stop yourself, you throw a look over your right shoulder, and a strangled scream escapes you when you catch a glimpse of something impossibly large and strangely shiny, and then just teeth.    You try to run faster but you can’t. The dark world around you is a blur as you wait for those teeth to sink into your flesh and torture you to death. It seems to take so long.
   And then it happens.    You’re snagged to a stop so quickly that it makes your legs lift off the ground as they’re kicked forwards by the momentum.    Something has your shoulder between its jaws, but that’s as much as you’re aware of before the world fades away and nothing exists anymore.
-=¤=-
   You wake up on a bed in a room with a strange ceiling and stone walls. You’re groggy and only half awake, so it takes you a moment to realize that there are paintings covering the ceiling, making the stones look kind of fluid.    Beautiful images of stormy seas and a red sunset flow across the domed shape, bringing it to life in a way that stone shouldn’t be capable of.
   Then you remember, and bring your left hand up to examine your right shoulder, half expecting it to just not be there. But it is, and it feels fine.    You sit up, relieved but also confused that there’s no pain, and as your bare feet hit the cold floors, your eyes are drawn to the rest of the room.    It’s round and there’s a window in every direction, revealing the daylight outside, but also every detail inside.
   The bed is easily large enough for two people, and the sheets and blankets are the softest you’ve ever felt. There’s a loveseat underneath one of the windows, with plush pillows leaned against the armrests. In the middle of the room is a carpet which you can tell just by looking at it, likely costs more than your house. And the curtains, four matching pairs, all a deep red, somehow seem both heavy and feathery light.
   There’s a door to your left, and it’s standing open, so at least you’re not a prisoner. But you don’t feel like one regardless. All of this is so strange, because you’re sure that something bit you, but you can’t find any wounds in your skin.    There are holes in your shirt, though. And where’s your jacket? Why are you barefoot?
   You head for the door and find a winding staircase leading down, so this is apparently a tower.    At the foot of the stairs is a corridor and then more stairs, twirling the other way this time, so you keep heading down, passing closed doors and empty spaces until you reach a pair of large double doors that are left wide open.
   There’s a fire crackling inside and your cold feet and bare arms have left you shivering, so you head inside, finding the biggest open fireplace you’ve ever seen, in the other end of the huge room.    It must be a ballroom or excessively large dining room, but it’s completely empty, save for a padded short stool in front of the fire.
   You sit and warm yourself, trying to think back, to remember any details that might help you understand what’s happened to you, but nothing comes to mind.    And then a movement to your right startles you to your feet.
   “My apologies, miss. I have a habit of moving quietly,” a dark and low voice says, and when you locate the man who that voice belongs to, you’re momentarily stunned into silence.
   He’s tall and broad, but quite lean, with a perfectly chiseled jaw and a beard trimmed to accentuate that. He wears no jewelry, but his dark green coat has golden threads and small embroideries on the cuffs and along the collar. Shapes too small for you to make out at ten feet of distance, but which from afar remind you of snakes.    Still, it’s his eyes that rob your brain of most its function.
   So dark, but also incredibly expressive. He’s curious, intrigued, but wary. As though you might pose a threat to him somehow, which seems impossible to you.
   “W-… Where are my shoes?” you manage to croak, still unable to break away from his eyes.
   “I took your shoes and your jacket to encourage you not to run away once you awoke. I’m afraid I am going to need you to remain here for the time being,” the man explains, and suddenly your brain wakes up in full.
   “So, I’m your captive, is that what you’re telling me?”
   “Yes, and no. You are my captive, as much as I am yours.”
   “What’s that supposed to mean? I have no idea who you are,” you counter, getting angry because that’s all you can do to keep from panicking.
   “My name is Oberyn, and this is my home. You’re welcome to explore as much as you like, but I would recommend staying away from the basement. Especially at night.”
   “Why? Do you have more prisoners down there you don’t want me to set free?”
   “Oh, there are cages down there, and many of them are occupied,” he says, while taking a few steps closer to you. “But I doubt that you would want to release any of the creatures that are locked inside.”
   Creatures? What the hell does he mean by that?    He’s only three feet away when he stops, just as the outside light catches his eyes at a different angle, and you can swear that you see something else within them. A bright golden shine seems to illuminate them from within for just a fraction of a second, as if reacting to the sun’s rays.
   “The tower is yours. I will not venture there without your approval for the duration of your stay.    But the rest of the castle is my domain, and you move through it at your own risk. Do you understand?” he asks, to which your anger flares.
   “Understand? No… I really don’t.    Who are you?! What is this place, where the hell am I?! There aren’t any castles anywhere near the seven hills! And what the hell was it that chased me last night, and why do I have bitemarks in my shirt but not on my skin?    What the fuck is going on?!”
   He lets you scream and rant without so much as a twitch bothering his mustache, and says nothing as you begin to pace in front of the fireplace, crossing your arms in silent defiance, but also an attempt to guard yourself against all this strangeness.
   “You were bitten by a serpent,” he quietly says, just as you’re about to give up and leave the room.
   “It was a lot bigger than any snake, and it had a lot more than two fangs,” you counter, all but spitting at him now, further angered by the notion that he might be trying to convince you that you imagined the whole thing.
   “I didn’t say that it was a snake,” he replies, and you stop pacing.
   “And what is a serpent if not a damned snake?” you challenge, but he seems unbothered.
   “Is that all it can be? You must think broader than that, young one.”
   His words make no sense to you. Serpent, snake, fucking danger noodle, it’s all the same.    And “young one”? He’s at most five years older than you.
   “Please, just tell me where we are?” you finally ask, deciding that there’s probably no point in trying to argue with this mystery man.
   He looks at you for a good minute then, as if trying to decide if he should answer, and you notice that he doesn’t blink a lot, which is surprisingly unsettling.
   “We are six hundred and nine miles from your home. Give or take a few dozen feet.”
   That takes you a second to process.
   “What!?” you almost scream, unable to take any more of this incomprehensible nonsense. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you had a fucking helicopter hidden in the woods, or something?”
   “Take a look outside the windows,” he calmly suggests. “I’m sure the snow on the ground will help you come to terms with the truth that you are no longer as far south as you think.”
   Unwilling to take his word for it, you walk over to the nearest window, where the view makes your heart sink. Because he’s right.    Not only are there several inches of snow covering everything in sight, but you also don’t recognize the landscape at all.    And that’s when the realization of just how much trouble you’re in, finally dawns on you.
   Turning away from the window, you now meet your captor’s eyes, for the first time with fear brimming within your own. Unable to stop yourself, you try to back away from him but there’s a wall in the way, so you start moving sideways instead, heading for the open double doors of the room.    He doesn’t try to stop you, but just before you turn your back to him as you’re crossing the threshold, his expression turns incredibly sad.
   You run through the halls, fully panicking now and having no idea where you’re even going. But then another set of large double doors are in front of you, so you grab the handle on one of them and pull it open.    It’s the front entrance. You’re standing on the top ledge of another staircase, this one twisting off in both directions, leading down to a massive courtyard.
   There’s a fountain in the shape of a rearing Pegasus in the middle, so big that the lilac shrubs which surrounds it barely even reach halfway up its hindlegs. And beyond that, is a giant garden of cherry trees and rhododendron hedges, in the middle of which, a wide driveway comes straight through, right up to the courtyard.    A driveway that’s so long, you can’t even see the end of it, where it disappears into the surrounding woods.
   You couldn’t run from here even with your shoes and jacket.
   The freezing wind brushes over your exposed skin, making you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself while sorrow suddenly burns through you, bringing tears to your eyes.    But then something soft and warm falls over your shoulders and you flinch, spinning on your heels and quickly backing away, further out onto the ledge to try and get away from him, which means stepping into the icy cold snow in just your skin.
   “Please…” he says, and he sounds alluringly soft and inviting now, which only adds to your suspicions. “I have no intention of harming you.”
   “Then how about you tell me what exactly your intention is?” you counter, barely able to keep your jaws from clattering with how badly you’ve started shaking.
   He takes a deep breath and then slowly releases it, somehow looking sadder and more tired with each milliliter of air that escapes him.
   “I just… I’m sorry. Please, come back inside before you get frostbite on your feet.”
   “That’s n-not an answer,” you challenge, already trembling all over now.
   “I know, this is why I’m sorry, but how is hurting yourself going to help the situation?” he wonders, and you have to concede that it doesn’t.
   You huff once in defiance, and then step forward, allowing him to wrap the blanket around you. But you hadn’t expected him to sweep you up into his arms and carry you inside.
   “Hey, I c-can still walk, p-put me down!”
   “The floors are cold here. I will put you down once you’re in a room with a rug.”
   “Or you c-could just give me b-back my shoes,” you gripe, and he hums in what sounds like a thoughtful manner to you, as if he’s conceding that maybe he was wrong to take them from you.
   But he says nothing more, and as he carries you through the empty hallways, none of which look familiar to you because this place is apparently a damned maze, you steal a few closer glances at him.    His skin is in better condition than yours ever has been, to the point where even his stubble looks soft. And his hair looks flawless. Not one strand of the curls on his head seems damaged or less bouncy than the rest. And the same goes for his beard and mustache.
   His clothes are perfectly tailored, and they look new, but they don’t smell like it. Instead, the only smell you detect seems to be his, and it’s not at all unpleasant. Contrarily, the longer you smell him, the more inviting the scent becomes.    You’re somewhat embarrassed to realize that you’ve stopped shivering with the warmth that spreads through you from within, just from that delicious scent.
   The room that he finally turns into is small and smells of paper, reminiscent of the old bookstore in the city back home, run by a sweetheart of an old lady who also happens to be the grandmother of the missing woman who’s house you live in.    She was the only one who’d come by with a housewarming gift after you’d moved in. That’s how sparsely populated your social circle is.
   It looks to be an office, of sorts. There’s a fireplace here too, already lit and crackling warmly in the far corner of the room. To the left is a desk filled with scrolls of paper and what looks like old maps of countries you don’t recognize, and to the right are shelves filled with more scrolls, books and scraps of paper.    There’s an armchair and a small sofa in front of the fire, and he sets you down on the sofa before kneeling in front of you to inspect your wet and freezing feet.
   You’re about to argue that you’re perfectly capable of tending to your own extremities, but something about his touch stops you.    His fingers seem warmer than they should be, almost feverishly so, but more than that, his skin feels like it’s giving off tiny electric impulses where it meets yours. And the feeling is highly intoxicating.
   He quickly examines your feet and then sits back and looks up at you again, where a curious expression flashes across his features as he notices that you’re suddenly a bit out of it. He seems concerned at first, and then… is he blushing?
   “If I get you your socks and your boots, will you promise me that you will not go running into the woods and getting yourself lost?” he asks, sternly holding your gaze while he looks for any traces of deception in your answer.
   Except you don’t give any. Because you can’t make that promise. Not when you still don’t know why he’s brought you here or why he intends to keep you here.
   “I don’t suppose it would make much difference if I told you that we are much too far away from any other people for you to make it there alive in winter?” he sighs, and he does seem genuinely worried that you won’t believe him.
   “Actually, I do believe you on that part. I just also believe that dying while running for your freedom might be better than living in captivity,” you explain, and once again, something terribly sad comes over him.
   “I really wish you could trust that I don’t intend to harm you, young one.”
   “Why do you call me that? I can’t be that much younger than you.”
   He chuckles drily at that, but it’s a sound of hopelessness rather than bemusement.
   “If only that were true…” he says quietly, turning his gaze to the floor for a moment before he rises and leaves the room.
   When he returns, only a few seconds later, he’s carrying your shoes and wool socks, both of which he appears to have cleaned, hands them to you and then steps back while you put them on.    For a moment, you contemplate more questions, but the more you think about the strangeness of this whole situation, the more you just want to pretend that it’s a dream and that you’re gonna wake up and laugh at yourself any second now.
   “The tower’s mine?” you find yourself asking, instead of any real questions.
   “That whole wing is yours for as long as you’re here,” he nods.
   “And how long might that be?”
   “For now, I can’t say with any certainty, but hopefully no more than a few days.”
   He does look genuinely apologetic as he says that, but you’re relieved to hear it. Somehow, you’d envisioned being a captive for years, locked away in that tower. But there’s something innately honest about this guy. You have no reason to trust anything he says, and yet you do.
   “And what determines how long my stay ends up being?” you wonder, while rising from the sofa and daring yourself to take one step towards him.
   He doesn’t react in any visible way to your truly minimal challenge, but you wonder if perhaps he likes that you don’t just accept your circumstances when they don’t feel right to you. There’s a little glimmer in his eyes that might just be a hint of awe.
   “How long it takes me to figure out how you’re still alive,” he quietly answers, bringing you back to the severity of the moment.
   Turning away from you, he reaches for an old-fashioned candlestick holder, lights the candle and then hands it to you.
   “Living light reveals the path to the tower,” he says, as if that isn’t the most useless piece of information you’ve ever gotten, and then gestures to the open door.
   Utterly confused, you step out into the dusky hallway, half expecting the wooden door to slam shut behind you, but it doesn’t.    When you turn back to ask him which direction to turn, you find him right behind you, already showing you to the right with a gentlemanly open hand aiming that way.    You nod your thanks and begin walking, still without a clue as to what the candle is meant to show you. Until it does.
   Once the dancing light hits a certain wall, a faint glow appears in a thin line running along the wall, around waist-height.    You follow it, seeing it fade away as soon as the flame isn’t directly in front of it, and before you know it, you’re back at those winding stairs.    Walking back into the chamber at the top, you find that nothing’s moved since you left.
   You walk around the room, examining everything more closely, finding two large and fully stocked bookcases hidden behind drapes on either side of the fireplace. There’s also a closet built into the wall next to the bed, and there are very old dresses hanging in there, covered with dust, making you wonder who the girl might’ve been that those clothes had originally belonged to.
   Realizing that you haven’t asked your captor how to get food or how he intends to figure out how you’ve miraculously healed, you spend a few minutes pondering on whether you’ve got the energy to make the long walk back down to look for a kitchen and ask if you’re expected to come down from your tower at any specific times.    But ultimately, you decide to leave it for now, picking out a book instead. You’re too stressed still to be able to eat anything anyway.
   The book keeps you occupied for the entire afternoon, and it isn’t until it grows dark that you eventually close it and get up, intending to go looking for that kitchen.    You’d left the candle holder in the window that faces the front of the castle, although you can’t see the courtyard from behind the main structure, but as you go to pick it up, a movement outside catches your eye.
   Peering down towards the ground, you see a door swing open, and then something runs across the section of the yard that you can see. It’s so fast that you can’t be sure, but it looks like it could be what attacked you last night.    And it looks like… a dragon.    A dragon that just ran out of the same castle where you’re trapped.
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Part 2
Thank you for reading! I had so much fun with this and I'm nowhere near done with it. Huge Thanks to @joelswritingmistress for inspiring me to take on Oberyn, I didn't think I ever would.
If anyone wishes to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.
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sirowsky · 2 months ago
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The red shirt one looks like a legit South Park character! I love it! I obviously love all of them, as always, and I wholeheartedly agree: haters can EFF THE HELL OFF!
Only hugs and sweetness to you, my friend, and to all who are true fans of Pedro ❤️❤️❤️
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Pedro as been making a statement with a lot of his recent outfits and me and South Park! Pedro are all here for it. 🥰 So little South Park! Pedro decided to wear them too. 😉
It's a shame that some of Pedro's so-called "fans" are disgustingly hateful towards him and his stylist Julie Ragolia for these choices. Death threads? Really? Over clothes??? If one of you lunatics is following me or SP!P do me a favor and EFF OFF 🖕 and unfollow/block me. I don't wanna be close to you in any way or form. Not even virtually.
For everyone else. Please enjoy these little fun outfits. 💖
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sirowsky · 2 months ago
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Do fucking better people.
This fandom has some truly abhorrent people in it who severely need to check themselves.
He is a grown man who will make his own choices in every regard.
Either respect his agency, and the people he chooses to work with, or fuck off.
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sirowsky · 2 months ago
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girlies im honestly having second hand embarrassment over this good/bad outfit choices 🤡 i know some of you will have a literal meltdown and will end up in a psych ward if pedro ever publicly starts dating someone. you’re all insane and are taking things WAY too far.
let pedro work with whoever he chooses to work with <3 let him look like spongebob if he likes.
its.. whatever lmfao.
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sirowsky · 2 months ago
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https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/15/world/europe/sweden-moose-livestream.html?smid=url-share
It's that time of year again 😊
I told @idreamofboobear about this, a few years ago now, since she's crazy about moose/elk, so now every year when it comes on I think about her.. 💔
I'm still looking for her, or at least looking to find out if she's still alive, so if anyone has heard from her, please give me a shout. It breaks my heart that she just vanished without a word because I don't think she would have if she was well 😟
Anyway, if you wanna see some wild moose go about their days in their natural habitat, unbothered and without any fences around them, here's a link to the article where there's also a link to the Livestream.
https://www.nytimes.com/video/world/europe/100000010111457/moose-migration-sweden-livestream.html?smid=url-share
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sirowsky · 2 months ago
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@jessthebaker Thank you again for taking this journey with me, I've truly enjoyed following along and hearing your reactions, that's always such a treat for me 🥰🥰 And I'm proud and happy to have entertained you, love!
The one shots and drabbles are also lovely, and many of them actually add a lot of context to parts of this story, especially the prologue, but also the one named King, if you wanna immerse yourself a little bit longer. If not, that's cool, this is a whopper of a story to begin with 😅
Either way, I'm grateful, and I wish you a lovely day, week, Easter and spring 🌱
Driving Mr. Tovar
Chapter 40 - The Unknown
Description: As the future has somehow finally arrived, and your life has become everything you wanted it to be, your husband is about to show you that there is always more to be had.
Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Pero x female reader, cursing, mention of grave-robbing, tiny bit of angst, lots of fluff, Pero being illegally sexy. Word count: 13,560 (3397 words added) Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist
Author's Note at the end of the chapter.
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   Pero had been flipping between surprise and confusion for a few days after your anniversary, when you’d gradually started clueing him into the message that Sam had left for you, and what you were planning for the estate as a result.    He wasn’t opposed to anything that you’d already set in motion, he was just a bit unprepared for the sudden return to full speed ahead, when you’d been so hindered by your own mind and heart for so long.
   He kept asking you to reassure him that you really were okay and not overdoing it, just because that was the only way he could keep himself from thinking that you were never more than a second away from crashing.    But on the other hand, he also loved seeing you like that. Full of energy and enthusiasm, taking on every task with confidence and grit, even when it was things that annoyed or bored you.
   You seemed to have a constantly running disagreement with the computer, taking every opportunity to point out when it was being unreasonable or failing to think properly. And the machine, in turn, would scold you for everything you forgot, or overlooked.    It was a continuous source of amusement for everyone around you.    But you really were working hard.
   While AIVA could only vet people digitally, you were the one that had to meet applicants and assess them in person, and it had taken a long time before you’d found anyone that you got a good enough feeling from, to even allow onto the estate.    And on top of that, you were working with architects and contractors on the changes that needed to be made to the main house, and the new building that was going up next to the garage.    All whilst also trying to be a mother and wife.
   Pero sat in on all the interviews with the applicants, because he was the one that would officially hire anyone that you picked, and because he was fairly good at reading people.    He rarely ever spoke during those meetings, but just sat next to you, observing the people answer your questions and helping you to assess them. And it was quite telling of their character how they responded to having a taciturn scowling stranger in the room while you calmly pretended like he wasn’t even there.
   He didn’t have your sixth sense when it came to people’s intentions, but he found it fascinating to observe yours in action like that.    He’d been really surprised with some of the rejections you’d made. People that he’d only gotten good feelings about, you’d completely dismissed, and you’d often been unable to describe why you didn’t like them.
   But he trusted your judgement (and your gut) more than his own, so he never questioned you.    And you had eventually put together a four-man team of what would initially be construction workers, and then later on, when the constructions were finished, would stay on for other positions that would become needed.
   Pero oversaw all the actual construction that was happening on a daily basis, keeping track of what had been done and what still needed to be done, if any additional orders needed to be made and making sure that no materials ran out.    Mostly because he wanted to be around the new people to make sure they weren’t shady in any way, but also to take some responsibility away from you.
   He also enlisted Hero to be a constant presence around them, making sure that they were never left to their own devices. Just in case.    She seemed happy to have a real task again, and the reports and observations she gave him were flawless.    And that was your routine for a while. It might have been a bit paranoid, but fuck it, you all had reason to be.
   Still, one position remained to be filled, so the interviews went on, along with the changes to the estate.    Meanwhile the two of you still tried your best to carve out some alone-time in the middle of everything, as well as getting out with the horses as often as possible to keep yourselves sane and happy in the process.
   It was hectic and chaotic and strange, but it somehow worked.    You were building something new together, and there was a joy which came along with that. A sense of letting the past go and starting fresh, and you were both highly aware of how much you needed that.
-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-
   “What’s wrong with this one?” you asked the computer after reviewing a file it had sent you on a potential hire.
   “Nothing that I have been able to find.”
   “Na-ah, don’t even try that with me,” you shook your head at it, “I know you know shit, and you know I wanna hear it, so spill.”
   “I’m not sure as to what you’re referring.    He has no criminal record, no suspicious activity on his bank-account or elsewhere in his digital footprint.”
   “What about social media?” you pressed, because something just rubbed you the wrong way about this guy.
   “That is a big part of a person’s digital footprint these days.    Do I need to repeat myself, Peg?” the machine asked, giving you its own version of attitude, which you were kind of starting to like about it, not that you’d ever admit that.
   “If you missed something – yeah,” you reminded it, giving it some of your own attitude in return. “Tell me about his social media.”
   “He is not particularly active on any platform.”
   “How many is he a member of, or subscribing to?”
   “Eight, in total.”
   “Uh… Yeah, drop him. I’m not interviewing him,” you deadpanned, which seemed to confuse the AI.
   “Why not?”
   “Because no one creates a user for that many platforms, only to then not use them.    He’s either incapable of committing to even online relationships, or he’s a pedophile or something equally unpleasant, trolling the web for potential targets, just without interacting with them.    Either way, I most definitely do not want him here.    And since we’re on the subject, shouldn’t you know this stuff? Isn’t it in your behavior analysis program?”
   “People behave very strangely on the internet. I find it difficult to correlate their behavior online with the existing models in my programming.”
   “Well then, consider this an opportunity to add to those models. And anyway, this is precisely why you have me.    Now drop him.”
   “As you wish.”
   “Thank you. So, who’s next?” you asked, trying to reset your brain to review a new file.
   “Mr. Tate was the last applicant.    Shall I redistribute the ad?”
   “No,” you said with a heavy sigh, feeling like you were failing somehow. “I need a break from recruitment anyway.    We still have a month before the house is ready. We’ll take another crack at it later in the week.”
   “Very well. Does that conclude our business for today?”
   “For now, yes. But let me know if anything comes up.”
   “You know I will.”
   It was almost dinnertime when you finally left Sam’s office, and you knew that Pero would be bringing the kids up any minute now, so instead of going back to the house, you headed for the kitchen.    The smell suggested that a spicy stew of some sort was on the menu, and it made your mouth water.
   You hadn’t had time for a snack this afternoon, so it was nearing around six hours since the last time you’d eaten anything.    Doris was slicing bread and putting the finishing touches to the salad-bowl when you wandered into her domain.
   “That smells heavenly, what is it?” you complimented as you walked up to the island, appreciatively sniffing the air.
   “Just a beef stew. Nothing fancy, but very tasty all the same,” she said with a smile, always pleased to have her work praised, but also noticing that you didn’t have your usual energetic approach. “You look tired, darling. Is everything okay?”
   “Yeah, I’m just fed up with recruitment.    You have to wade through so much shit to find the gems, and I’m just really sick of all the shit,” you griped, to which she scoffed, but with humor.
   “Yes, I should imagine it gets a bit whiffy,” she said, winking at you and making you chuckle despite your somewhat glum mentality.
   “How are you holding up with all the changes? I know you don’t particularly like that,” you asked, hoping to steer the topic away from yourself.
   “Generally, I don’t, but there’s been so much happening in the past six months that’s been completely beyond my control, that I’m really looking forward to getting back to just being a cook and a happy face for people to talk to.”
   It was quite remarkable that this woman with her fragile psyche had done so well with the whole time-travel and magic stuff.    You’d been a bit worried that it would’ve broken her spirit, but instead, she seemed to have decided to leave the past in the past and just carry on with the present.    Which was a healthy, and impressive, attitude for anyone of them to have, but especially the insecure and generally anxious cook.
   “You’re allowed to tell me if you’re stressed or upset about something. There’s gonna be a lot more for you to do once we finish,” you reminded her, but she was in a particularly playful mood that afternoon, it seemed.
   “Technically I believe that I’m supposed to talk to Mr. Tovar about those things,” she answered with a pair of raised brows, clearly done for comical effect.
   “Yeah, but we both know you never would,” you responded with narrowed eyes, playing along with her.
   “Oh, not in a million years,” she smiled, but then returned to a more serious tone. “I really am fine, though. I’m looking forward to it actually. Getting to keep busy.    It’ll keep my mind sharp as I get older.”
   “I like the sound of that, for many reasons, but mainly because I’d really hate to have to start trying to recruit a new cook too…”
   “Don’t you worry about that, my dear, I’m practically part of the inventory at this point.”
   She patted your shoulder with a warm smile, and then picked up the salad-bowl that was always present for each meal, to carry it out to the dining room.    So, you grabbed the tray of bread and followed her, and just as you set it down on the table, the kids came running in, followed by a very tired-looking Pero.
   “Peggy, guess what?!” Emma shouted, before more or less ramming you in her excitement to share whatever it was that she was about to tell you.
   “You’re going on your first date?” you guessed, teasing her because you had a pretty good idea of what she was about to say, but it was more fun to just get it completely wrong.
   “Eeeew…! No!” she grumbled, momentarily stumped by your faulty assumption, before deciding to hand you the answer. “I got the part!”
   “Oh, I see,” you feigned a perfectly calm and unexcited reaction, so that you could sweep her off her feet in a moment. “Well, I’m not surprised. I told you you’d get it, you’re the best actress in your school. But – I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!”
   You suddenly grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her into the air, shocking her into a squeal of a laughter, before you pulled her in for a big hug.
   “You’re gonna do great, kiddo. And you better believe we’re coming to watch you make your acting debut!” you promised, and her smile was radiant.
   “It won’t be until the start of the next semester,” she giggled, already looking forward to it to the extent that she was bouncing on the spot.
   “I know, but I want you to know that it doesn’t matter what else is going on, we’ll be there to support you, no matter what. Because I know that this matters to you.”
   “Thanks, Peg,” she beamed at you, before Doris took over the congratulations, and you checked in with Johnny and Alice to hear how their day had been, before you turned to Pero.
   “Are you okay, love? You look absolutely beat…”
   “I’ve spent the entire day trying to clear those fallen trees from the fence on the west side of the pasture, but it turned out to be much more work than I had thought. And King does not help.    With the fence damaged, he keeps running off, taking Pace with him, and ordinarily I would just let them run, but there are so many new people here now. People I don’t know or trust yet,” he explained, making you feel bad about having been inside with a computer all day when you could’ve helped him.
   “Damn. That storm was a bad one.    But I wish you’d called, I would’ve come out to help you.”
   “I honestly did not even think of it. I really thought it would be an easy fix…” he sighed, rubbing his neck where he was usually got sore whenever he worked too hard.
   “I’ll go out there with you after dinner,” you offered, and he was too tired to argue.
   “I would appreciate this. I put the boys inside for now.    How are you doing with the last hire?” he asked, trying to be supportive in return, but managing only to remind you of how sick you were of the entire hiring process.
   “No luck yet. I’m gonna take a break for a few days, I think, and just focus on the family.    I feel like I barely know what’s going on with anyone.”
   “This sounds like a good plan, Belleza. I might do the same, once the fence is done.”
   “It will be, you and I together are unbeatable, remember?” you smiled softly at him, and he mirrored you, before he pulled you to him for a quick kiss and then wrapped his whole frame around you and held you for a minute, as though he was trying to absorb your positivity through your skin.
   “I don’t see almost any other adults hug as much as you do. Why is that?” Alice wondered, while the two of you split up and went to sit down at the table.
   Pero in between Emma and Johnny on one side, and you next to Alice on the other.
   “Some people don’t really like to, even if they’re family, and some are just shy about letting others see it,” you answered, but that seemed to puzzle her.
   “But it always seems to make you feel better. Hugs don’t do that for everyone?”
   “It does for most people, I think. But no, not everyone,” you pondered, and she took a moment with that, before sharing her thoughts.
   “Well, I like that you do. It’s important to help each other, mom and dad always said so.”
   “You mom and dad were really good people. I hope you’ll always remember everything they taught you,” you said, and she was just about to answer you when your phone made a sound, and it wasn’t AIVA’s usual information ping.
   It was an alert.
   “I’m sorry, Alice, I need to check this,” you told her as you got up from the table.
   But before you stepped away, you glanced over at Pero to make sure that he’d noticed the different tone.    Which he had, because he immediately busied himself with distracting the kids while you snuck out into the ballroom to find out what had caused the alarm, soon discovering that it was a general security alert.
   When you unlocked the phone, a video-feed from the front gates was displayed, playing in real time and showing a person standing out there, seemingly looking for a button or something, probably to ask if he was even in the right place.    The camera-angle and the way he was standing meant that you couldn’t see his face, but in the corner of the screen, AIVA was displaying his height, approximate weight and current heart-rate, along with some other potentially relevant details.
   The gates weren’t those cast-iron bar ones that so many people used, but rather two solid pieces of metal, over a foot thick, that when they were closed, left no gap anywhere for anyone to peep through.    From the outside there were no visible hinges, or handles, or buttons of any kind. So, the simple fact was that if the system didn’t recognize someone, they weren’t getting in.
   Even the camera was damned near invisible, if you didn’t already know where it was, and the system had twenty additional sensors around the gates, which it used to "read" people, so the camera was actually more or less obsolete.
   “AIVA, do you have an ID on this guy?” you asked the computer, knowing that it was already listening.
   “Negative. His face exists on the internet, but only from secondary sources, like traffic-cameras or people taking pictures where he happens to walk by.    But as far as I can tell, he doesn’t even have a bank-account. However, his fingerprints are not in any databases, so he has never been arrested.”
   “He might be homeless,” you suggested even though you didn’t think so, partially to test the system, but also to cover all the bases.
   “Possibly. But my behavior models disagree with that assessment.    He’s too clean, to healthy, too fit, and too well dressed.”
   “Okay. What else?”
   “Unclear.”
   “Great. A wildcard,” you groaned, so not in the mood to deal with something like that right then but unwilling to pass it onto anyone else either. “Well, I’ll just have to go and talk to him, then.”
   Just as you’d said that, Coulson walked in from the front hall, on his way to dinner, so you joined him as he approached the dining room.
   “Hey, I’m gonna need to go and check on something, and I need Tovar to come with me.    I have no idea how long it’ll take, so can you guys keep an eye on the kids and make sure that they don’t worry?” you asked him in rushed whispers and, reading your behavior correctly, he slowed his pace to give you more time to explain.
   “Is there reason for them to worry?” he whispered back.
   “I don’t know yet. But probably not, I’m just being cautious.”
   “I’ll take care of them, my lady,” he assured you, using his new favorite nickname for you, since you’d pretty much taken over running the estate.
   “Thank you,” you said, and then stopped in the opening to the dining room.
   Pero had clearly been waiting for you to reappear, so once he spotted you and saw you indicate for him to join you, he first locked eyes with Coulson and waited until the man nodded discreetly at him, before he excused himself to the kids and then got up.    He tried not to hurry on his way over to you, not just to keep from worrying the children, but everyone else around the table as well.
   “What’s going on?” he asked as soon as he reached you.
   He was suddenly very alert, with no trace of the fatigue that had been so obvious in his body language earlier, when he took your hand and matched your strides while you led him away.
   “Just a stranger outside the gates, but I’m… tingly,” you tried to explain, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “There’s something about this guy.”
   He didn’t say anything else, he merely let you lead him outside and together you headed for the gate. His trust in your gut was as absolute as your own, at this point.    When you got there, you stopped a few feet back and nodded up towards where you knew the camera to be. AIVA was always watching, so right on your cue, both sides of the gate started to open, but stopped when there was just a three-foot gap.
   “Can we help you, sir?” you called towards the opening, while Pero stayed one step behind you to your right, ready to pull you out of the way if something bad happened.
   He nearly did, just because of your reaction when the guy appeared in the gap between the thick metal traps.    You flinched, and actually stumbled backwards into Pero’s side, suddenly unsure of where to go or what to do.    Because the man in front of you was someone you’d never met, and yet you knew him.
   You knew his soul almost as perfectly as you knew your husbands, because you’d felt it. You’d felt two versions of it.
   “William…” you breathed, rocked to your core by the shocking sight before you, and after he’d caught you, you felt Pero turn to stone next to you for a moment, as he too recognized the man.
   He was clean shaven just like he’d been in the past, but there was no bundle of hair on the back of his head, as this William had a buzz cut.    Wearing black pants of a fairly high quality, but made for work, made to last despite wear and tear, while a simple white t-shirt could be seen through the partly opened zip of his dark green cargo jacket.    So different to his past self, and yet completely identical.
   His hands rested casually in his jacket pockets when he appeared, but when he saw your reactions, he quickly pulled them out to show that he wasn’t holding anything dangerous, probably thinking that you were scared of him for some reason.    But hearing you say his name made him frown with confusion, and you almost chuckled at how identical he looked to the version of him that you’d met in the past.
   “Uh… H-How do you know my name?” he asked with a nervous little smile, looking from you to Pero and back again.
   Right. So, how the heck would you explain that little nugget?    You straightened yourself out, and took a step towards him, trying your best to look polite and kind, hoping he might forget or at least disregard what had just happened.
   “We have a… very advanced surveillance system,” you offered, just saying the first thing that came to mind.
   He seemed to think hard on that for a couple of seconds.    You were certain that he was fully aware of how nearly inexistent his digital footprint was, because he quite obviously didn’t believe your poor excuse of an explanation.    He was respectful enough not to be rude about it, though.
   “I’m sure you do. But that doesn’t explain why you look like you’ve just seen a ghost, ma’am,” he challenged, holding your gaze while he scrutinized your every micro-expression.
   He was sharp, that much was certain.
   “It’s… complicated. You just look very much like someone I met once,” you tried, starting to feel unnerved by the clarity in his stare, as though he really could see right through you.
   “Someone that looks like me… with the same name as me.    Right,” he replied, sounding very skeptical and suspicious.
   But there was a small smile playing in the corners of his mouth, making you feel like this guy probably wouldn’t care either way how you knew his name. More like he was just fascinated that you did.    Maybe even a bit impressed.
   “Just out of curiosity…” you started, deciding to test his nerves since it seemed like he might be able to stomach it. “Did something strange happen to you a few months ago?”
   His smile vanished and was instantly replaced with disbelief and caution, so clearly, something had indeed happened.    Still, he didn’t answer.    But you felt like it was very significant that this man had showed up at your home, of all fucking places, so you decided to push.
   “Did something appear in your hand, out of absolutely nowhere? Something you instantly knew belongs to you, but that you’ve never seen before?” you said, knowing that if he had experienced something like that, he wouldn’t be able to disregard your knowledge of it, and that if he hadn’t, the questions would just confuse him.
   But he didn’t even try and pretend that your words didn’t rattle him. He turned pale as a ghost and suddenly looked terribly nervous and generally uncomfortable.
   “How the hell do you know that?” he questioned, unable to keep his hands from twitching or himself from treading slightly on the spot.
   “What was it?” you pressed, because you needed him to confirm it, and you had a feeling that he might need to say it out loud in order to help him believe it himself.
   “B-Bow… it was a bow.”
   “With an emblem of an Asian tiger on the handle,” you added, and he suddenly took two big and fast steps towards you which prompted Pero to do the same, putting him one shoulder in front of you.
   But it was as though William didn’t even see him.
   “How do you know that?” he demanded, before advancing even more. “How can you possibly know that?!”
   He wasn’t aggressive or even angry, just driven forwards by a desperation for answers, which you could certainly understand.    But he was a stranger, after all, and both your husband and AIVA were hard-wired to protect you, which was why, even though William stopped before he reached you, Pero put himself fully in between you.
   However, it was the low rumble of the gates falling shut behind him, that finally made him snap out of his hunt for information, and suddenly realize exactly what position he’d just put himself in.    He turned back to stare at the abrupt lack of an escape route, and the nervous energy in his body forced him to start moving in an erratic pattern, feeling not just trapped but lost, now that he had nowhere to go should he want or need to.
   You remembered that feeling, from when you’d first driven in here. The mouse heading into the trap.    But you also remembered how that was the best decision you’d ever made, and something inside of you was telling you that this might be the same thing for him.    So, while he kept aimlessly pacing, you walked up to Pero’s side again.
   From there, William could see you, and you could keep your husband from attacking him, which he was clearly itching to do.    Your movement caught your guest’s eye and he finally seemed to clock the danger that his male host posed to him.    He stopped moving and raised his hands in a pacifying manner.
   “I’m sorry… Please, I just… No one knows about that. I didn’t tell a soul.    I thought I’d lost my mind, but the damned thing never disappeared again.    Do you know… where it came from, or how or why? Please…” he begged, letting all his emotions and all his confusion out on full display.
   “I know a lot about that bow. But if you’re struggling to believe that its even real, then you might not be ready to hear exactly where it comes from,” you warned, but that just set him off again.
   “No, please, I have to know!” he all but screamed, and in pure desperation, once again came at you with unclear intentions.
   But you somehow knew that he wouldn’t hurt you, so before Pero could punch him or something, you darted forwards and grabbed the guy’s right hand with your left one, merely to reassure him that the answers would come if he’d just be patient.    But the moment your skin met his, a small electrical charge sparked between you, and it was suddenly the other William who was standing in front of you.
   For a split second, you were transported back to that moment right before you’d reached out to touch his soul, to try and find the man who now stood before you, and who had apparently also seen the memory, and which understandably freaked him out.    He all but jumped away from you, putting his hands against his temples as though he was fighting a headache.
   “I’m sorry… I don’t know where that came from, I thought all my magic was gone…” you rambled while you tried to recover from this unexpected turn of events as well.
   Meanwhile, Pero’s focus shifted right back to you, since he hadn’t seen the image and therefor didn’t understand what was going on.    He completely ignored the other man and turned to you to put his hands on your shoulders, prompting you to look at him.
   “Magic? What just happened, Angel?” he asked, abruptly very anxious since his previously good opinion on all things magical had taken a bad hit following your journey.
   “I don’t know. It was just an image, and I never even felt it coming.    I’m not sure it even came from me…” you shakily explained, as unnerved by all this as both of them.
   William had partially recovered by then, but he was now getting distraught. And while Pero kept glancing at him with the expectation of a threat, all you felt was compassion.    Because how could anyone be expected to just understand and accept something like this? Especially someone who had obviously been trying to make sense of it on his own.    You would never forget how frightening it had been for you to try and figure this all out, and you’d had someone in your corner throughout all of it.
   “What magic? What are you talking about? What’s going on?” he pleaded in between half-sobs and more erratic pacing.
   You completely ignored your husbands attempts to hold you back as you walked right up to the guy and put a hand on his lower arm to stop his frantic movements.    And this time, there were no sparks or flash of images. He flinched at the contact, though, and momentarily tried to evade your touch, understandably expecting some form of unsettling sensation.
   “Hey, look at me,” you demanded softly, noticing how he was trembling now, which was a clear sign that his body was experiencing actual shock.
   But he did as you asked.
   “Why did you come here?” you questioned, and for a few beats he just stared at you, looking as though the answer was right on the tip of his tongue, but wouldn’t come out.
   “You don’t use the internet, so you couldn’t have seen the employment ad. And if you didn’t come here looking for work, then why?” you pushed, but he still didn’t have an answer, and it seemed to add to his distress with each passing second.
   “Did you feel like something pulled you here?” you finally asked, and something seemed to click within him. “Like there always seemed to be a right and wrong way to go at every turn, corner or fork in the road that you got to?”
   He nodded slowly, still shaking, but the fact that someone did seem to have answers for him, was starting to calm him down.
   “I just drove… day after day.    I don’t even know why I set off to begin with. I’ve been living in the same town, working in the same place all my life, and then all of a sudden, I just packed up my car and left.    I honestly have no idea what I’m doing here…” he paused, but he was getting more and more relaxed the longer he spoke, so you didn’t interrupt him. “Except that as soon as I saw these gates, I just knew I was in the right place. And I feel like… I should know you.    Why do I feel like that?”
   “I think it might be because I touched your soul once,” you said, which made his eyebrows shoot up for a moment, then crash down into a frown before he bowed his head and rubbed his eyes.
   Clearly, he was gonna need a minute with all this. But first, he needed to know more about what all this even was.
   “Okay, this is really complicated, and we don’t actually understand all of it ourselves, but it seems like the three of us are connected.    Or, more specifically: the two of you are connected, and I’m the conduit that leads you to each other.”
   You paused to indicate for Pero to join you while you spoke, and he did, although still looking very skeptical.
   “Versions of the two of you have lived before, in a different time, a thousand years ago, and back then you were best friends.    Now, I don’t know why, but for some reason it seems to be very important that you both have the weapons that your previous selves used back in their time, which is why I sent you that bow,” you explained, and the incredulity on William’s face reached new heights.
   “You sent it to me?! You made it appear in my hands, out of nowhere?” he challenged.
   “Yes. Well, me and nature. And time,” you confirmed with a nod and a little shrug, and your apparent nonchalance made the guy turn to Pero instead.
   “Am I supposed to understand any of this?” he asked, to which your husband shook his head.
   “I try to keep up, but honestly, this has mostly felt like being inside a tumble dryer,” he said, and for a moment, you had to suppress a chuckle at how similar to their bickering medieval selves they both suddenly looked.
   “No shit,” William agreed, and then something occurred to him. “But wait a minute… I’ve never used a bow in my life. Why do I need to have it just because some other version of me used it?”
   You took a steadying breath then, because you knew exactly how this was gonna sound.
   “I think that it has to do with what the weapons were used for in that time.”
   “Okay. Which was?” he pressed, and you worked your jaws for a second, trying to think of some better way to say it, even though you knew that it wouldn’t make any difference.
   “…Battling an alien army that came from a meteor,” you begrudgingly admitted, and the poor man just stared at you both, probably hoping that one of you would start laughing and tell him that it was a joke.
   “Seriously?” he questioned when it became clear that you weren’t gonna do that.
   “Deadly,” you confirmed. “The leader of that army had some power of her own, and I think that the weapons have been… chosen, or perhaps just accidentally imbued with some kind of countering energy.    I think they’re talismans against remnants of her power that might still exist, and for whatever reason, they need to be in the hands of their original souls in order for that energy to remain strong.”
   Suddenly, both men were staring at you, and it was Pero who questioned you next.
   “You haven’t mentioned this before.    When did you figure this out, mi amor?” he asked, and you had to think it over.
   Because while you’d spoken, it had felt like you’d known it for a while, but now that you thought about it, you realized that you hadn’t.
   “Just now. I didn’t even know it until I said it,” you answered, feeling a bit unnerved yourself now.
   Still, this was good news, and you gave him a slightly uncertain smile while you reminded him that the more you knew, the better you understood.
   “The triangle, remember? This is the first time we’re all together, so it makes sense that I’d understand it better now.    I’m the thing that joins the two of you and the weapons together, so it stands to reason that once all the pieces are in place, the puzzle reveals itself,” you pondered, to which Pero nodded thoughtfully, but William was struggling again.
   “Wait, I don’t follow… What triangle? And what do you mean about talismans being chosen? Chosen by who?”
   “Nature. This all comes from nature,” you said, sighing as you prepared to elaborate. “It has a memory, of sorts, that you can tap into if you’re sensitive enough, and if it lets you.    It allowed me to take our souls to the past, in order to find you so that I could get the bow to you, and while we were there, we saw those aliens for ourselves.    We fought their queen and we… lost.”
   You stopped and closed your eyes for a moment, while those images that still haunted your dreams, flashed across the insides of your lids.    The faces of your loved ones, distorted with pain in that horrifying way that only your own brain could conjure up, conspiring with your guilt to create tailormade nightmares that were impossible to escape.
   You felt your husband’s fingers gently brush against your side to help your brain let those images go and return to the moment.    And when you opened your eyes again, William was looking at you with an expression that clearly showed how obvious the pain in your features had been.    Trying your best to shed it, you cleared your throat and returned to the explanation.
   “There are actually two triangles. One of them is the three of us: you, me and Pero. And the other is the bow, the swords, and my magic, which is apparently not completely gone, after all. And these two triangles are linked, like a bridge between our time and your doppelgangers in the medieval time.    That’s as good as I can explain it right now,” you finished, and it sounded perfectly comprehensible to your own ears.
   But your guest still looked utterly befuddled, so you tried one more angle.
   “Okay, think of it like this: The three of us are a shield that keeps the residual threat of an unnatural energy, under control, and the weapons are how we do that, because of their direct connection to that specific moment in the past.    The alien biomaterial that landed with that meteor took a thousand years to evolve into the creatures who fought in that ancient war. And from our perspective, that also happened a thousand years ago.    So, we must assume that these beings somehow manage to reincarnate themselves, or in some other way pose a threat to the natural world, in cycles of about one millennium, which is why this happened now. To us.”
   Pero stared blankly at you after that, because once again, you’d spewed out information that hadn’t really been there before you’d started talking. Although, if he was amazed or frightened by that, he himself probably couldn’t tell which.
   “You’re saying that in another thousand years, other versions of us are gonna have to come together along with these weapons, in order to prevent this evil energy from… re-emerging?” William tried to summarize, to make sure that he’d understood correctly.
   “Yep. That’s about it.    So… How would you feel about coming to work here, for us?” you asked William, and even from the corner of your eye, you could see Pero’s scowl reappear with a vengeance.
   “Just like that, hm? You have no doubts about inviting this stranger into our lives?” he questioned, to which you just held out your arms in feigned innocence.
   “I didn’t invite him, nature did. If he kills us in our sleep – blame her,” you suggested, and you weren’t even joking.
   “Belleza…” your husband started, and it was clear from his tone that he was about to object.
   But when William kind of twitched at the sound of your nickname, Pero paused, and both of you looked at him with curiosity, silently waiting for him to explain why he’d reacted to it at all.
   “I’ve heard that before. Or at least, I feel like I have.    What does it mean?” he asked, but he was careful about it, perhaps because he somehow already knew that it was significant.
   Your partner glanced at you then, and you got the feeling that he was asking for your permission to reveal the true meaning of the name, so you nodded at him.    He didn’t seem happy about that, though. Probably feeling like sharing private things with this stranger was invasive and unnecessary.
   “Technically, it’s the Spanish word for beauty. But to me, it’s-…”
   “Love,” William cut him off, shocking you both, but also himself by the looks of it.
   As though he really had no idea what it would mean until the word just fell out of his mouth.
   “…Yes,” Pero confirmed, but with much suspicion. “How do you know this?”
   “I just feel like I’ve heard it before. I’m sure I have.    But that’s impossible. I don’t know any Spanish and I’ve never met a Spanish person before,” he assured you both, and you suddenly realized that you might actually know how this could be possible.
   You remembered the way that ancient Pero had said that word, without even knowing what it meant to you, but he’d still said it with all the love that your husband always did.    And since your love seemed to transcend time, it wasn’t unreasonable to imagine that even without knowing why, he might’ve said it again at some point after you’d left, while within earshot of his best friend.    If so, it wasn’t that big of a leap to think that William’s soul would know it.
   “Yes, you have. Just a very, very long time ago,” you said with a warm smile, and for some reason, that seemed to be what finally made this all too hard to digest.
   He looked down on his worker boots and shook his head.
   “Have I died and ended up in some kind of alternate reality? Is this really true?    I mean… really?” he asked, sounding disheartened now.
   “I’m afraid so,” you answered, watching him turn his face up towards the sky and laugh a little, before turning back to you.
   “Okay, then. I might be insane but fuck it,” he declared, suddenly sounding like he’d given up and was just gonna go with it. “You asked if I’d like a job, and I guess the answer is yes, since it seems like I’ve got no choice but to stick around.”
   “Fantastic, that means my interviewing days are done!” you exclaimed, more than happy to hop on the acceptance train. “And hey, look at it from the bright side: you get to live and work with a bunch of lovable weirdos, two crazy smart horses, and to top it all off, you get your thousand-year-old best friend back!”
   The scowl that adorned Pero’s face the moment he heard that, was the first really mean one that you’d seen in a long time.    And when he spoke, there was a familiar contempt in his tone that brought you back to the early days in the car, and the first few times he’d spoken to you at all.
   “The last person that I called my best friend, took 20 years to earn the title.    I doubt you have the patience to be my friend,” he growled at Will, and then turned his back to the man, heading towards the house.
   He called for you to come with him, and then paused with seething irritation when he heard you invite your new friend to join you for dinner.    But you just smiled, because you knew this reaction.    You’d seen it before when it had been aimed at you, and you knew that it meant that no matter how much Pero might try to fight it, he’d soon start to care about the stranger.
   After all, his soul already did, so he didn’t really have a choice. But you were kinda looking forward to seeing him try to fight it, all the same.    Because no matter what, it was gonna be interesting to see him from the same perspective that the staff had, back when you had been the target of his unwanted, but equally unavoidable attention.    You felt like you were about to learn a lot more about your husband.
-=¤=-
   On your first wedding anniversary, you stepped into the kitchen in the morning to find a gift, adorned with a big red bow, sitting on the counter next to the coffee maker.    You picked it up and then started laughing at the memory it brought up in your mind, just as two big arms snaked around your waist from behind, and a honeysweet and happy voice whispered in your ear.
   “Better late than never, no?”
   “I will never forget how childish I thought you were in that moment. I almost laughed at you back then, but decided anger was probably wiser.    I figured you’d respond better to that,” you chuckled, and he hummed thoughtfully.
   “I’m not sure that throwing a dagger at you could be described as a better response.”
   “I don’t know. It all turned out alright, in the end,” you purred back, and his grip tightened as warm lips pressed against the spot underneath your ear.
   “This is not the end, mi amor. We have still only just begun, and I intend to enjoy many more mornings, days, nights, and anniversaries with you,” he promised, making your smile widen.
   You picked up the big yellow mug that he’d gotten for you, almost identical to the one he’d thrown away on your first day here, and then pulled the bow off so that you could pour yourself a cup of coffee.
   “Well then, I’d better start breaking this thing in if it’s gonna survive this household,” you declared, before taking a sip.
   You relished in the rich taste and the comforting heat as it made its way down your throat before it pooled in your stomach.    Then you put the mug down and turned around in Pero’s arms so you could hold him in return, and he eagerly pulled you close, tasting the coffee on your lips with a soft kiss.
   “Do you like it, Belleza?”
   “It’s perfect. Thank you, Marido,” you said, kissing him back a little more passionately, just as Alice walked into the kitchen, having clearly been waiting and listening from the hall for a few minutes.
   “Sorry to interrupt the snuggle-session, but did I seriously just hear you say that you once threw a dagger at mom!?” she questioned, clearly shocked at the mere suggestion.
   It still felt a bit strange to hear yourself referred to as “mom”, even though you technically had been one for a while now.    You were sure that all the kids still felt a bit strange saying it as well, but to their credit, they persevered despite any awkwardness.    It was a decision that the children had all made together, and then surprised everyone by announcing at the dinner-table with all the family present, about a month earlier.
   With all the new people around, they’d found it hard having to repeatedly explain why they referred to you by names or by calling you aunt and uncle.    And since you legally were their parents and always would be, they’d come to the agreement that it was just easier for everyone to let you inherit the titles from their actual parents.
   Making it clear that this in no way meant that you were replacing Natalie and Andrew, you and Pero had agreed to these new titles, which had actually seemed to put the children at ease, for some reason.    They had seemed to find it odd and a bit uncomfortable at first, but they’d kept it up, almost as if they’d been trying to train themselves to treat it more casually and make it feel more natural. And it appeared to have worked.
   However, at that moment, it wasn’t the title used which lingered in the air between you.    Pero sighed heavily and rested his forehead against yours for a moment, probably looking for some parental strength.
   “No son orejas grandes, pequeña,” he mumbled, making you smile.
   Because he’d been slowly teaching you Spanish for the past few months, so you actually understood what he’d said this time. (Aren’t your ears big, little one.)    He turned to face her, and set about explaining what had happened back then, earning several jaw-drops from her as she couldn’t quite reconcile the man being described to her, to the man she knew today.
   “But you’re so kind… Like, annoyingly kind.    I can’t believe you did that,” she said, staring wide-eyed at him.
   “I’ve had a steep learning curve since meeting Peg. I owe everything to her,” he replied, inclining his head in your general direction.
   He’d taken a seat with her by the table as he’d explained, while you’d served them breakfast, but not taken anything for yourself.    You were still leaning against the counter, sticking to your coffee for now.
   “That’s kind of amazing, though. That that’s how it started, and you still ended up here,” Alice observed, and he smiled at her before turning his head to smile at you.
   “It takes a special person to see past that kind of action.    To ignore their own fear and decide to find out why someone would do that to them, when they have done nothing to deserve it,” he explained, and then turned back to look at her as he continued. “This is why I take such care to be kind now, to all of you.    Because I know how lucky I am to have anyone at all who cares about me.”
   “Yeah, that’s not luck, dad.    That’s a bona fide magical frickin Pegasus,” she confirmed, which made you both laugh, infecting her too until you were all giggling.
   But then your phone rang. It was time to go to work.    You checked the caller ID to see that it was William, before you answered.
   “Good morning, Will. What’s up?” you said, hearing a nearly inaudible groan from your husband, which you unceremoniously ignored, as always.
   “Morning, Peg. I just wanted to let you know that when you come up to the house, one of the guests wishes to see you before she leaves.”
   “Is everything okay?”
   “Yeah, I think it’s about a rare book she found in our library.”
   “Oh. Well, color me intrigued. I’ll be right up.”
   “Thanks.”
   You ended the call, and turned back to your new mug to take your coffee with you as you headed off to work.    But Pero grabbed your hand before you could pick it up.
   “Remember, you’re finishing early today. No last-minute fixes, or questions or oversights.    At 4pm you clock out, and then you are mine for the rest of the day.    Sin excusas ni excepciones,” he ordered, entirely needlessly.
   You’d been looking forward to this celebration for weeks, so you were at no risk whatsoever of working late today, but you couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him.
   “I’ll be here 4 o’clock sharp,” you promised, giving him a light peck on the cheek as you once again moved to pick up your mug. “Unless William screws something up.”
   His expression went from loving to sour in an instant, and his grip on your hand tightened, pulling you completely away from the counter and into his chest instead, while his other hand came to your chin, to make sure you looked into his eyes.
   “William can handle his own mess for a day. If not, I will chuck him over the wall, once and for all,” he warned, and he sounded a little too serious.
   “Pero…” you were about to admonish him, but his fingers pinched your chin, just enough to get you to shut up and listen.
   “If you’re not here by four, I will come and get you, and I don’t care who might be watching or what they might think, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out if I have to,” he almost growled, and his voice was dark and deep and so damned sexy that your legs were suddenly unsteady.
   All at once you were contemplating just skipping work all together today.    And it didn’t help when his other hand, the one holding yours, let go of you and came to the small of your back instead, to press you against him, at which point, Alice decided to leave the kitchen.    He knew exactly what he was doing, letting go of your chin so that his fingers could trace your neck down to your clavicle while his voice dropped even deeper.
   “Tonight, you are all mine,” he demanded, and the sound and feel of him made you involuntarily quiver against him, all but drowning in your sudden craving.
   He hadn’t told you exactly what he had planned for the two of you, it was all a big surprise, but he’d been childishly excited about it for days, and you couldn’t wait to find out.    You’d been the one to surprise him last, for his birthday earlier in the year, and the morning after that, he’d made you promise to let him have this day.    Even if he hadn’t manipulated you like this, you wouldn’t have allowed anything to ruin it for him, but you weren’t even mentally capable of resisting him in that moment.
   “I’ll be here. I promise,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the red mist of lust that he’d so expertly trapped you in.
   “Good girl,” he purred, and you nearly came right there.
-=¤=-
   Walking up to the main house these days was always such an energy boost, and you needed it more than usual today, after that unnecessarily heated morning.    There was always activity around the main entrance, people coming and going, and lots of chatter going on, and it felt so inviting and lively.    It was just a very positive atmosphere overall.
   You politely greeted an elderly gentleman being helped down the stairs by one of the new hires, Afina, before stepping into the rebuilt front hall, which was now the reception, and where you could usually find William.    He was busy signing out one of last night’s guests when you got there, so you stepped to the side and waited.
   You smiled to yourself as you imagined Sam leaning against the opposite doorway, towards what had been the ballroom, but was now the cafeteria.    You imagined him casually observing the people coming and going, smiling at you as he caught you watching him.    He would’ve loved this.
   The Rose Bed & Breakfast Hotel.
   It had been full every night since you’d opened the gates a little over three months ago, and you’d had to turn guests down by the dozens because you just didn’t have room for them.    It was small, for a hotel, just 15 rooms, but it was cozy and had a home-like warmth to it, and you weren’t gonna expand on it, no matter how many requests you got, specifically because you wanted it to stay that way.
   Laura and a young man named Oliver, whom the Coulson’s had practically adopted as their own already, took care of the rooms in terms of housekeeping.    Poppy made sure that all the rooms and common areas had a living touch to them, with both potted plants and colorful bouquets, and although no one ever saw her tend to them, they were always flourishing.
   Doris handled everything food-related, which for the guests was mostly just breakfast, but the hotel did offer all meals of the day, provided she could keep up with demand.    Travelling people were often tired, and most of them didn’t want or have the energy to make the two-hour journey into the city for a decent meal, especially not if they arrived late in the day.
   Although Doris seemed happy to do practically anything that the guests requested, so long as she had the ingredients and the required time to prepare it.    And boy, was her cooking appreciated. Not one guest had complained about anything she’d made, thus far, and it made her so happy to be able to give so many people that level of culinary satisfaction.
   Coulson was somehow even more of a butler these days, in terms of truly being the head of the household.    He was there to offer advice and knowledge about the house and the grounds and the surrounding area, even outside the gates.    Always ready and willing to drive people to or from the airport if they had trouble getting a cab or had aches or pains that made those vehicles uncomfortable for them.
   He helped the newly hired janitors, Yìchén and Leticia, understand the complexity of how the main house was built, and how they needed to adjust their approach to problems that occurred, to avoid disrupting the security systems.    In short, he was the bedrock of the hotel, so to speak, and he seemed to love the additional challenges that kept him busy, but rarely managed to stress him.
   Hero was head of security, keeping tabs on all the comings and goings and working directly with AIVA these days, which freed up a lot of time for you, since it meant you didn’t need to be the middleman between them anymore.    She was doing fine on her own for now, but you’d made sure that she knew that if she needed another set of eyes or hands, all she had to do was ask, and you’d hire additional personnel.
   William, and the last of the new hires, Omera, were the clerks, but also the porters of the hotel. They booked the guests in, and if they had a lot of luggage, they would accompany the guests to their room and make sure that they got settled.    It was usually fine for just one of them to be at the reception at any given time, since the guests rarely arrived in batches, and more often one at a time. Also, they usually didn’t have more than one bag, and it wasn’t expected for a simple little B&B to offer porters at all.
   Pero was still in charge of the staff, on paper, responsible for making sure that everyone got paid on time, and that no overtime, sick-days or changes to the schedule had been missed.    He did fuck about with William’s paychecks from time to time, just because he still hadn’t made peace with the idea that they were supposed to be friends.
   Also, as the owner of the whole estate, there were meetings and other functions that he was required to attend, but overall, he was mostly free to do what he’d always been brought there to do, which was take care of the horses.    And since your duties as the manager of the estate, and the hotel, kept you far busier than he was, he also had the primary responsibility of the kids.
   He went to the parent-teacher conferences, he kept tabs on school projects and making sure homework got done, and helped if it was needed. And he was the one who stayed home with any one of them that got sick.    Pero was the bedrock of your personal life, and it was thanks to him that you never got lost in your work like you had back when you’d been a personal assistant.
   Because knowing what he did for your family every day, seeing the children grow into their own individuals more and more, seeing them overcome the difficulties that they regularly faced, and grow increasingly confident in themselves…    It all served as a constant reminder of how important every little thing that your husband did, truly was.
   You longed to go home to the four of them every day, because you wanted to hear about their day, and to laugh with them, or cry with them if it was needed.    You longed for their hugs and their fun games and meeting their friends when they brought them over.
   Somehow, your life had become everything you’d ever dreamed it could be, and all because Samuel Rose had known exactly how to make it so, even after his own death.    You often felt like you could see him, standing in the background of a room, or sitting in an empty chair, always with that incredible smile on his face. And in a way, that made you feel like this place would always belong to him.
   That moment, while you were waiting, was no exception.    He looked so real to you as you stood there, meeting his eyes, smiling with him as he kept holding your gaze with such joy and contentment.    It made you forget what you were even waiting there for.    But once the guest was signed out, and headed for the door, you remembered, and stepped up to the desk.
   “Morning, guys. Any trouble overnight?” you asked, still working on returning to reality.
   They took turns being the nightly on-call clerk that guests could call for help if something happened, which wasn’t very often, and last night it had been Omera.
   “Quiet as a church in prayer, Mrs. Tovar,” she politely announced.
   The staff wasn’t always so formal with you, most of the time they just called you Peg. But they were professional enough to never do that in front of any guests.
   “Great. So, where’s this person who wanted to see me?” you continued, and William gestured towards the living room, or common area these days, to your right.
   “She’s checked out and all, but she wanted to talk to either you or Mr. Tovar before she left.”
   “And naturally, you called me,” you said, shooting him a lopsided smile.
   “I’m pretty sure he’s never actually answered a single call from me yet,” he mused, seemingly unbothered by that fact, but you suspected that deep down, he was just a little hurt by your husband’s continued aversion towards him.
   “Hang in there. He’s a tough nut, but he’ll crack eventually.”
   “If he doesn’t, it’s his loss,” Will smirked at you, and you scoffed in return.
   “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with him.    But don’t worry, I’m the link in the chain between you, so one way or another, I’ll get you to co-exist,” you assured him while pushing away from the desk, watching with bemusement as your words made his smirk fall away, and he suddenly looked troubled.
   “Now, why does that sound like a warning?” he called after you as you headed for the living room, but you didn’t answer.
   You just smiled and shrugged nonchalantly before disappearing around the doorway, going see the guest who had asked for you.    She turned out to be a young librarian, probably no more than 25 years old, and clearly very shy. She was plump in that way that made some people look radiant, whereas if they’d been skinny, they’d probably look sick instead.
   She explained that she’d found a rare book in the library upstairs and wanted to talk about the possibility of borrowing it for an exhibit at her workplace, and you ended up having quite a long and interesting conversation with her.    She was clearly uncomfortable in her own skin, which made you sad because she was so beautiful. But when it came to books, she was as confident as anyone could be, which was wonderful to see.
   In the end, you just gave her the book. Free of charge, no strings attached, because someone that good and passionate about her job, deserved to own something truly precious that she would never be able to afford.    She cried with gratitude and disbelief, and promised to send you pictures of the exhibit if you couldn’t find the time to visit. And when she left, you felt like even if all hell had broken lose for the rest of the day, it still would’ve been a good one.
   There were no problems or things that needed fixing over the course of the day, so you spent it mostly just chatting with guests and checking in with the staff to make sure that everyone was having a good time.    There was no sign of Pero at lunch, but that was in no way unusual, and especially not when he was planning a surprise.
   But apparently, someone else was hungry enough to show up at the table, just maybe not hungry for food so much as affection.    Screams erupting from the cafeteria made those of you among the staff who had managed to get together for lunch today, bounce to your feet, wondering what in the world could be going on.
   But before you could run in there, King strolled right through the swiveling door that now separated the former ballroom from the dining room.    You were partly relieved that it wasn’t anything worse, but also quite peeved that he’d decided to make an entrance right in the middle of what was an unusually busy lunch-hour, in terms of cafeteria guests.
   “Begging your pardon, your Royal Highness, but just what in the heck do you think you’re doing?” you scolded him, but he completely ignored that.
   He came right up to you, and lifted his head high, to reveal that something was dangling underneath his chin.    A small black envelope was hanging in a thin thread around the top of his neck, and when that prompted you to take a closer look at him, you noticed that he was recently groomed.    So recently that he must’ve come straight from the stables into the house. Which could only mean…
   “Oh, gods above. What are you up to, Pero?    And what the hell happened to 4pm?” you asked no one, since he wasn’t there.
   King proudly kept his head held high, clearly very pleased to have been chosen for this important message delivery.    You snorted a little at him as you pulled the thread, breaking it effortlessly, and then extracting the little white note from the envelope.
   ~Welcome to your Anniversary Treasure Hunt.    I, your husband, am the treasure, and you must find me, or we will not be able to celebrate.    So, without further ado, here is your first clue:
The first touch stolen here Though not yet wanted Halted by the patient care Of one darkness never taunted
   Happy hunting, Diosa. Oh, and you will need to bring King~
   Holy fuck on a trampoline. He’d made rhymes?    What in the actual hell…    You couldn’t help but laugh with equal parts excitement and just the ridiculousness of a treasure hunt to find your anniversary partner. Especially this particular partner.    You turned to the rest of the staff, still standing around the table.
   “Sorry. This is apparently a gift to me, which means I now need to get going,” you explained, grinning widely now because this was just so unexpected.
   Meanwhile, William eyed Coulson and Hero, both of whom looked completely unbothered by the fact that there was a giant horse looming over the table.
   “So… is this like, what passes for normal around here?” he asked, and Hero was the one who decided to answer him.
   “This shit just happens. You either get used to it, like us, or have a near heart-attack each time, like Doris. Good thing she wasn’t here this time, she’s still recovering from the lizard in the cupboard.    And so are my ears.”
   While she explained, you climbed onto your chair in order to hop onto King’s back.    If Pero was hellbent on making a spectacle out of this, you were sure as shit not gonna disappoint him.    You waved goodbye to everyone while turning King back towards the swiveling door.
   “I have no idea what my husband’s got planned, or when I’ll be back, so behave yourselves and don’t you dare call me for anything!” you shouted over your shoulder as you rode out of the room and then continued out of the house the same way that King had walked in.
   Which meant that you passed through the cafeteria again, sincerely apologizing to the guests as you went, but meeting no more screaming, thankfully.    Once outside you steered towards your house. The clue was pretty easily deciphered, provided that the touch he was referring to, was the same one that you thought.    It took a minute to find the second clue, hidden between two books in the shelf that he’d pushed you against in a moment of uncontrolled heat, during your first week there.
   ~Good work, mi amor.    Here is your second clue:
A mistake made in fear A consequence most dire Not healed by a tear But by forgotten fire
   Hurry, I’m waiting for you~
   There was only one mistake he’d made that you knew to have dire consequences and that had been when he’d kicked you out of the stables, so that’s where you went next, but no matter how hard you searched, you couldn’t find any envelope.    Until you remembered what had led him to kick you out and headed to the corral instead.    You were rewarded by finding the next envelope, only just poking out of the sand, right smack in the middle of the open space.
   ~Now you are making progress, Esposa.    Here is your third clue:
A display of power most profound A cage to hold a grieving soul There is no force to keep you bound When a friend can make you whole
   You have a ways to go yet, no time to enjoy the view~
   This one took you a while, though. You paced back and forth in the sand, while you tried to figure out who had made a display of power, and how that related to either you or Pero grieving.    The only time you’d seen him grieve, other than the most recent losses, had been when Tuck and Sparky had died. But there hadn’t been any display of power then, had there?
   You felt a bit thick once the answer hit you, because it should’ve been completely obvious, especially to you, of all people.    You climbed the corral-wall so that you could mount King without him needing to kneel for you, and set off towards the woods, heading for the giant old tree that had fallen on top of you.
   Only nature had any real claim to actual power, and the tree had been a very effective cage, which King, a friend, had freed you from, healing your heart in the process.    It took a while to find it, since you hadn’t been back there after that day, but once you did, an elegant green bow alerted you to where Pero had left the next black little envelope.
   ~Well remembered, Angel.    Here is your fourth clue:
No man can soar through the sky Unless his heart is free The only thing that can make him fly Are the wings that carry thee
   Only one riddle left, you’ll soon be here too~
   Well, the wings that carried you were most definitely King, so you were fairly certain that he was referring to your first ride across the plains.    But you hoped that he’d marked the spot, if that was where he was sending you next, because you had no idea how you’d otherwise be able to find something that small, way out there.
   It was a good half-hour ride to get there, though, so you spurred King on and made a race of it, getting more and more excited the closer you got. And the more your energy increased, the more the horse responded.    You slowed down once you got there, so that you wouldn’t miss anything, and checked all the trees that lined the path leading up to the open fields but found them empty.    So, the last clue was somewhere out there then.
   It was a warm and sunny autumn day, so the visibility was good, but you couldn’t see any colorful bows anywhere nearby.    You started riding across the plains in a slow canter, trying to keep to the direction you usually took whenever you and Pero were out there together, scanning the ground as you went.
   There was no bow this time but draped over a very sturdy-looking little sapling, was a silver chain that glistened under the sun, and at the end of it, nestled into the dying weeds by the sapling’s roots, was the final envelope.
   ~You made it, Belleza.    Your final clue:
Secrets are not to be shared For they are hidden with intent This one, only for you was bared But it is not the one you scent
   Come find me, querida, I am here for you~
   This one, you understood immediately, solely because he’d used the word scent.    You got back on King and steered his nose in the opposite direction of the house, heading for a place that Pero had only showed you once on all of your rides.    A secret that he had not even told Sam about, although you were quite certain that the man had known about it anyway.
   It wasn’t too long of a ride, and now that you knew where you were going, you didn’t rush. This particular place was not one you wanted to come barreling into.    As you neared it, the vegetation shifted from a fairly even split between deciduous trees and conifers, to consisting of only leaf-trees, all of whom were in their autumn wardrobes, painting the entire area in shades of red, orange and yellow.
   Pero was sitting on a large white rock to the east side of a clearing, smiling at you when you dismounted and came to sit next to him.
   “Did you have fun, mi amor?”
   “I did. But I can’t believe you rhymed five verses for a treasure hunt,” you grinned in disbelief, and he laughed merrily.
   “The children had to help me,” he admitted, looking sheepish, and you both laughed at that.
   “Well, thank you for the tremendous effort, my love.    It was really quite exciting, I’m kinda sad it’s already over, even though it took me like two hours,” you lamented, but he just kept smiling at you.
   “The hunt might be over, but there is much more still to come,” he promised, making you smile with him.
   “I like the sound of that,” you chirped, and then looked around the clearing and saw that King was still standing where you’d jumped off, which meant that the big red wasn’t nearby, or he’d have gone to find him.
   “Where’s Pace?” you wondered, certain that Pero wouldn’t have gotten to this spot without him, so he had to be there somewhere.
   “He is guarding our ride. Are you ready to go, mi amor?” your husband cheerfully announced, which thoroughly confused you.
   Because weren’t the horses your ride?
   “Go where?” you asked, clearly missing something in this picture.
   “Undisclosed,” was all he said.
   “Huh?” you breathed, but he just smiled boyishly at you and got up to greet King.
   Your own face was a mask of confusion as you followed him, but you stopped when you passed the large rock in the center of the clearing, and felt it demand your focus for a moment.    It was grey and white, shaped like a shard, and stood about six feet tall, and all around it grew the licorice plant known as "dropshot", with its distinctive smell.    You’d always liked licorice, but that wasn’t why the rock was demanding your attention.
   Pero’s secret, the one that no one else had ever heard, was what rested underneath those plants, and that massive shard.    The small bones that had been stolen from their anonymous grave in a different country, in a grief-stricken bout of rage, many long years ago, in an attempt to either punish himself, or somehow make amends. Maybe both.
   Raina.
   No one had been able to identify her after her death, since Pero had run from the accident site while he’d still been in shock and tortured by guilt, and she hadn’t existed in any records beyond a birth certificate, where no DNA samples had been provided.    She’d been too young when their parents had died and they’d fled across the country, to even have started school.
   He’d brought her here, not even knowing where on the estate he was, and buried her in the dark, with his bare hands, and only the stars as witnesses to his crime.    Back then, there had been no walls, no sensors or weapons hidden in the ground. It had happened so long ago that this had been nothing but wilderness then. Yet to be seen, let alone mapped, only learned in his head.
   There were no markings on the stone, and there never would be.    This place was a memory now. Another path on the map of your lives. It wasn’t a good or bad place, just another moment in time.    You turned back to Pero and let the melancholy fade as you watched him affectionately pet King on the head.
   “So, you’re not gonna tell me where we’re going, then. Another surprise?” you guessed, and he nodded without taking his eyes off the horse.
   “Mm-hm. For both of us, I don’t know either.    Like I said: undisclosed.”
   “Okay… But then, how-…”
   You were interrupted by a sound you recognized, and you automatically looked up to see the plane descending into the clearing.    And when it had landed, the tailgate opened to reveal a perfectly calm Pace, standing in a small sea of hay, just chewing away as though flying was second nature to him.    King trotted over to join him, and Pero took your hand and started leading you towards the ramp.
   “I have instructed AIVA to take us to one of Sam’s islands, somewhere warm, and the boys are coming with us, because I do not trust William to keep his hands off them,” he explained, but even those few sentences were too much for you to process at once.
   “What? Islands…? Wait a minute, who’s looking after the kids?”
   “As I said, the children helped me to plan all this, and Coulson and the school knows that we will be away for about two weeks.    Everything has been arranged, don’t worry, Belleza,” he tried to reassure you, but you were still reeling.
   “One of Sam’s islands… He owned more than one island?” you questioned, not that it was entirely surprising, you just weren’t prepared for any of this.
   “I think it’s something like fifteen, in different parts of the world, so he could go wherever the climate was what he wanted or needed it to be. They were not all for vacation purposes,” Pero explained, and you tried to just let this information pass for now so that you could enjoy the moment.
 �� To that end, you looked at the horses as you stepped into the plane, and a giddy laughter bubbled up through your throat.
   “Oh, honey… you really need to let Will off the hook. He’s a good guy!” you admonished, watching your husband once again sour at the subject.
   He made no effort to hide his scowl anytime you mentioned his long-lost bestie, but he seemed especially annoyed with having to talk about him now.
   “I don’t care if he’s a saint, I will not be friends with someone only because someone else says I should,” he petulantly declared while you made your way to your seats.
   “Wait… You mean to tell me, that you’re being mean to him in order to defy nature? Seriously?    What part of your brain told you that that was a good idea? Because I wanna thank it for the amount of comedy that it’s brought into my life.”
   You doubled over with laughter when his scowl morphed into something unreadable, but still somehow comical, just from how hard he was trying not to let your laughter infect him.    But he caved soon after, because there was a happy hum in his throat when he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you with him down into a seat, so that you were sitting across his lap with your side against his chest.
   The tailgate had closed by then, and AIVA’s voice was telling you to put your seatbelts on, but Pero wasn’t letting you go just yet.    He waited until your laughing-fit had passed, and watched as you wiped the tears of joy from your eyes before he finally said what he wanted you to hear.
   “I have always wanted to be the one that makes you laugh. And I don’t really care if you laugh with me or at me, it’s just my favorite sound in the whole world,” he said, speaking softly and slowly, emphasizing that there was no rush. “This is our long overdue honeymoon, and I mean to make it absolutely perfect, Belleza.    We will ride along the beaches, swim naked in the ocean, make love whenever and wherever we feel like it. And then we will sleep until we wake up and do it all over again.    And when we come back home, if I decide that I’m ready, I will give William a chance.    For you. Only for you.”
   You had no answer for that, so you just kissed him. Lovingly, heartily, until he lifted you off his lap and down onto your own seat, so you could buckle up.    And as soon as you did, the plane took off, still without earning so much as a clipped ear from either horse, and you wondered just how happy a person could be, as you watched the world disappear from behind the windows, and rose to the skies, bound for the unknown.
THE END =================
My dearest loves, We have reached the end of Pero and Peg's journey, and there are a few things I need to say.
As some of you know, I have always loved writing, but because I was laughed at as a young girl, for the fantastical elements of my stories, that other kids just didn't get, I never mentioned it again. For 20 years I believed that no one would ever want to read something my mind had cooked up... and then I came here. You have given me a gift that I can't properly describe, and have no way to adequately thank you for. This story means so much to me, because even though it isn't my first one here, it is the first one that has made me feel truly confident about my writing. So, I will forever accept more one shots and drabbles for these wonderful characters.
But for now, all I can say is thank you. Thank you all so, so much.
>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<
Thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging. I would dearly appreciate it <3
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sirowsky · 2 months ago
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@jessthebaker This part is so healing after all the stress. I'm so happy you found it satisfying 😊
I actually like the film, which I've understood is a very unpopular opinion, but then, my brain latches on to all fantasy and sci-fi because I live for the freedom of imagination! I've lived all my life going on ludicrous adventures in my own head 😉 But I love that you felt my Pero was accurately rendered, that's such a wonderful compliment! Thank you! ❤️
Driving Mr. Tovar
Chapter 39 - Future
Description: Life finally begins to come back to your new normal, but as with everything about The Rose Estate, there are surprises in store from multiple directions.
Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Pero x female reader, cursing, allusions to past domestic violence, some angst related to grief and guilt, smut and fluff. Word count: 11,393 (2333 words added) Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist
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   The guilt stayed close to the surface for a while, meaning it didn’t take much for you to suddenly and randomly feel like you didn’t deserve to be loved or to have fun.    But Pero’s words stayed in your mind as well, and on your better days you could remind yourself that you really hadn’t asked for nature to choose you to fix whatever it was that you’d hopefully fixed, back there.
   The magic really did seem to be gone, and you were tremendously grateful for that, because it meant that you could sleep fairly well, not having the fear of accidentally dragging your husband to death’s door hanging over you.    It wasn’t enough to keep the nightmares away, though. But that was different, because those dreams came from the guilt.
   The nights that you woke up drenched in sweat and with a pulse well over your usual limit, wasn’t when you’d dreamt about aliens, but when your mind had conjured images of your family being torn to pieces, suffering agonizing pain and reaching for you to save them.    When in reality, you knew that they’d died almost instantly, and without much pain, just because of how quick it had been over.
   Your own pain had been excruciating only because you’d actually survived, despite your soul being damaged.    And it caused you no small amount of distress whenever you considered how much Sam must’ve suffered, having been in an almost identical position, but awake.    His soul might not have been torn apart in the same way that yours had been, but he had definitely felt the agony of not having all parts of his being intact.
   You and Pero had had a great many conversations about everything that had happened in those first five or six weeks that you’d been sleeping, but you hadn’t told him about your side of it yet.    He assumed that you’d just been lost somewhere, consciously unaware of anything that had happened to you, and you hadn’t figured out how to tell him what you’d actually gone through in those weeks.
   Souls were fragile when they were separated from the body like that, and you shouldn’t have survived the Queens bite at all.    But the other Spaniard seemed to have given you more than just a momentary burst of energy. It was almost as though he’d given you half his soul in that moment, specifically to make sure that you’d survive.
   How he’d known how to do that, was a complete mystery, but the things you’d felt from him had been staggeringly powerful, so perhaps he too had a stronger connection to nature than normal people.    Perhaps, even across space and time, he’d somehow known that there was a version of him who belonged to you.
   You found yourself hoping that he’d had a good life. That his sacrifice to you, if that was even the right word for it, hadn’t left him incomplete in any way.    You knew nothing about him, except that he shared some personality traits with his other self in this time, but you wished that he’d at least been happy.
   “Belleza, are you okay?” Pero asked, bringing you back to the room and the task at hand, which you’d forgotten all about as your mind had drifted.
   “Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry… Lost in thought,” you answered, before realizing that he’d paused from fitting the drywall because you’d neglected to notice that he was asking you to hand him the spirit level.
   “About what?” he inquired, trying to sound casual, while he resumed working after you’d handed him the tool.
   “You. Kind of,” you admitted, and he immediately took your meaning.
   “Ah. The other me,” he said with a smile, to let you know that he didn’t find it odd for you to be thinking about that.
   You were working on putting up an extra wall inside the third bedroom, the one that had been yours at one point, so that Emma and Johnny would have their own rooms, now that Johnny was sleeping better.    He still came over to your bed some nights when the dreams came back and scared him, but for the most part, he did okay on his own.
   All the children knew that they were welcome to come to both of you if they felt unsafe or worried for any reason, and Emma had come over a few times too, but only when she’d been really upset about something.    Amazingly, though, all three of them seemed to be doing really well, and you had to credit Pero for that.
   The shock of finding out their parents were dead, the upheaval of being brought to live on the other side of the city, changing schools and losing friends, would’ve made anyone feel angry and justified in lashing out or getting depressed and locking themselves in emotionally.    But the way that Pero had dealt with it, taking them in as naturally as if they’d always been there, despite his total inexperience along with his own fears and pain and stress at the time, was truly remarkable.
   He’d somehow made them feel safe and wanted and welcome, turning this house into their home too in no time at all.    He’d found the strength to always be there for them, no matter how much else was going on. Always ready to hold them when they cried, to talk to them about their parents, and nurture their grief so that they wouldn’t try and hide it away.
   Alice had told you so many stories about how he’d cared for them in the beginning, and how quickly he’d made them feel like they could trust and rely on him, and it never failed to make you smile.    It was no small feat, the journey that your husband had made. He was a far cry from the brute that had met you in this house on your first day, nearly a year ago now.
   “We never did talk about that,” you offered, because even though he hadn’t asked, you knew that he wondered about the whole doppelganger conundrum.
   “We’ve been quite busy. But I am curious… Do you think that the reason he could see you is because of what you and I have?    Do you think that he and I… are somehow the same person?” he pondered, and this was something that you’d actually thought about at length.
   You’d had several different theories along the way, but there was one that made a bit more sense to you than the others.
   “Remember how the three weapons together somehow amplified everything around them?” you recalled, and he nodded.
   “How could I forget?”
   “Together, they formed a triangle. And you, me and the other Tovar, that’s a triangle too.    So, what if we’re connected through time in the same way that the weapons are?” you suggested, still feeling like you only had a minimal grasp of all this stuff.
   “It is extremely strange to try and understand that there was another version of me living a thousand years ago.    How does that even happen? Because he was much too similar to me not to also be me, somehow…    Ay, this makes my head spin.”
   “No, you’re right, he was you,” you agreed. “I could feel his soul each time he touched me, and it felt exactly like yours.    Just like the modern-day William felt exactly like the medieval one.”
   “Do you think everyone has a previous version of themselves?”
   “Maybe. But I don’t think it’s common for more than one doppelganger from a specific timeline to meet another.”
   “How do you mean?” he questioned, pausing again to focus entirely on you, since this topic puzzled him as much as it did you, and he really wanted to understand it better.
   “I think that some part of all this had to do with the fact that both Tovar and William have versions of themselves in this specific timeline. Our time.    I have no idea why the weapons need to be with their respective owners, but I think that it all has to do with time. I just wish I knew how it all connects over an entire millennium,” you said with an exasperated shrug.
   “What about the Queen?” he continued. “Before, you thought that perhaps her sensitivity to energies had something to do with the imbalance.”
   “Oh, she was definitely the reason for it. Like you said, not even nature managed to control that bitch.    But I think that nature chose me to connect to, only because of my closeness to you. I think that you actually have a stronger connection to that particular part of history, because of your double in that time, just like William.    I always felt like I was just a conduit for something else, and that’s what makes me wonder if all this is really over,” you surmised, which made Pero nervous enough to nearly drop the power drill.
   “Wait, what?! You think we are still in danger?” he almost hissed with the sudden tension in his frame, so you grabbed his shoulder and rubbed soothing circles into it.
   “No, I don’t think we’re in danger. I just feel like something’s… missing… or incomplete.    It’s not enough to influence my dreams or make me feel like I still have magic. I don’t, thank goodness.    But just enough to give me a sense that something’s still just a little off.”
   He slowly softened under your hand and went back to securing the drywall. But he wasn’t at ease yet.    There was something else on his mind, also making him nervous.
   “Your dreams are still bad,” he said in a low voice before glancing at you, probably to gauge your reaction and determine if now was the right time to talk about this.
   You were sure that the memories of your reactions to finding out everything that had happened while you’d been sleeping, were still very fresh in his mind, and that he was probably unsure of how much you were okay with talking about.    For the most part, he would stay away from those topics himself, instead letting you instigate anything you felt the need to talk about. And you rarely brought anything up.
   “You never speak in your sleep, but sometimes you open your eyes. You can’t see me, or anything around you, because you are still asleep, but on those occasions… there is only pain in your eyes,” he carefully continued, while you sat as a statue beside him.
   You knew exactly which dreams he was referring to. Your very worst ones. And you could tell from the way he was trying not to look at you, not to let you see how scared he was, just how much those nights tortured him.    Taking a deep breath, you decided that it was time to tell him, and stood to go and sit down on Emma’s bed, patting the space beside you to beckon him to join you.
   He hesitated before he followed, superfluously rearranging the tools and picking up a few stray screws.    You didn’t try and rush him, though. He knew that whatever this was, it wasn’t gonna be fun, and he needed to prepare.    After a couple of minutes, he got up and then came to sit down next to you, too nervous to do more than take your hand and wait.
   “I wasn’t asleep,” you started once he’d gotten settled.
   You kept your eyes on your joined hands on your lap, looking for a solid point to hold on to, both physically and mentally.
   “I wasn’t consciously aware of anything that happened around me, but I wasn’t in a coma either. It was more like… my soul wasn’t fully back, and a part of me was still journeying. Still in between this place and the past.    And to be honest, I’m not sure that I’m all here yet.    But souls aren’t meant to be torn like this, and it’s taken me a while to figure out why I didn’t just merge back together, since that would’ve been the natural solution.”
   It was your turn to hesitate now, because this next part might hurt his feelings in a more unexpected way.
   “I think that it was because it was him… the other you.    He gave me a part of himself to help me go, and I think that I held on to that part of him so tightly that I ended up stranding myself in between somehow.    A part of me… just didn’t wanna leave him there,” you admitted, but you felt guilty saying it.
   They were somehow the same person, but it was still only this Pero that was your husband. He should be the only one that you’d be that concerned for.    Unexpectedly though, he didn’t seem bothered by your care for his double at all, only for your health and wellbeing.
   “Was it painful, being in between? Being torn like this… could you feel it?”
   Damned it. Of course, he’d ask that.    And you just couldn’t lie to him, that would be such a terrible way to respond to all that he’d suffered while you’d been lost.
   “Yes. That’s how I know that I wasn’t sleeping, or in a coma. Because I could feel my soul struggle to hold itself together over a span of a thousand years, and it hurt like nothing I could possibly describe.    When you told me that it had been six weeks, I wasn’t crying because of the time I’d lost here. That came later.    At the time, I cried with relief, because to me… it felt like years had passed. Decades.    And then I felt guilty about feeling relieved, when you’d been made to suffer so badly. I still feel guilty about that most days,” you confessed, fully expecting him to disagree.
   You yelped a little with surprise when he suddenly threw his arms around you and flipped you over onto his lap so that you were straddling him on the bed.    His hold on you was tight and firm as he put his forehead against your chest and just breathed deeply, trying to keep his emotions under control, while you let your hands gently roam the planes of his back, before going up his neck and tangling in his unruly curls.
   You knew where his emotions were coming from. That he wanted to tell you that his own pain didn’t matter compared to yours.    You knew that, because it was how you felt as well, which was why neither of you said anything. There was no reason to, because you both knew it.    Instead, you pulled his head back and kissed him thoroughly.
   It was over. You’d survived, and you were rebuilding your lives, one day at a time.    And as much as you needed to acknowledge everything that had happened, as well as talk about it to make sure that it couldn’t hurt you down the line, you also needed to allow yourselves to move on.    After all, the best cure for all forms of heartache, is laughter.
   But his response to your really very innocent kiss, turned out to be much stronger than you’d anticipated, and he soon had you panting on his lap, letting his hands slide down to your rear to push you into his hardening groin, clearly not having anything innocent in mind.
   “Honey…” you warned, and he knew exactly what that tone meant, since you’d both started using it as a reminder to each other ever since the kids had ambushed you about sex that morning a while back.
   It usually worked really well on both of you, but for whatever reason, he seemed immune to it this time.    Instead of pulling back, he fastened his lips to yours to try and keep you from shutting him down, but you still managed to pull free after a few seconds.
   “Not on Emma’s bed,” you scolded, even trying to wiggle out of his grip, but he wasn’t having that.
   “They are in school for at least another three hours…” he mumbled against your neck, while his arms snared you even tighter against him.
   “I don’t care, we’re not having sex on one of our kid’s beds.    And we have a lot of work to do anyway. We promised to finish this today,” you lectured, but to no avail.
   His mouth made you quiver with pleasure when he pushed your t-shirt up to let his lips and tongue play with your breasts, exactly the way he knew you liked it. Softly but hungrily.    It made you involuntarily push your hips forwards, looking for stimulation, and of course, he felt that and set about giving it to you.    He let his fingers toy with you through the worn fabric of your old sweats, driving your heated core into such a craving that you didn’t even know where you were anymore.
   The pants were so worn that the elastic of the waistband no longer held together the way it once had, making it possible for him to tug them down to your thighs, even with your legs splayed over his lap.    Giving him just enough room to pull your panties to the side, and guide himself to your wetness, pulling you down onto him with one firm push on your hips.
   He felt so good inside you after you’d been clenching around nothing with such ferocity, that you damn near came just from feeling him slide into you.    The heat in your body was extreme, and ordinarily that would make the act frenzied and rushed. But with everything you’d been through lately, you loved the feeling, and wanted it to last, rather than simply chase the peak.
   So, you moved slowly, only rising a few inches before letting yourself take him in again.    You let your hands take their time too, exploring his chest through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, tracing his collarbones and then up to his cheeks.    And all the while, your eyes never left his.    His hands stayed on your hips, steadying you as you moved, because he knew that you sometimes lost strength when you exerted yourself too much.
   He followed your rhythm, pushing his hips forwards slightly every time you settled back down, to give you that lovely little tingle in the sensitive muscle around your opening.    Also, that little push from him created a tiny shift in the angle between you, which brought him to that sweet spot inside of you that made you tremble.    But soon enough, you needed more, and he could tell exactly when that moment arrived.
   And as though he’d just been waiting for it, he suddenly flipped you both, laying you down on the bed and settling in on top of you, taking over the greater part of the work so that you wouldn’t overexert yourself.    But he was still calm, driving into your core with power but without snapping his hips. He knew that you were savoring this, and he wanted you to have as much pleasure as your bodies could provide.
   The build-up was so perfectly measured, that when the crescendo finally hit, it was with the most intense yet deliciously slow waves.    They rolled through you in ever stronger bursts until you peaked, and then equally slowly came back down, still riding those waves all the way back down to the bottom.    Your core had been so overwhelmingly oversensitive during that climax, that you wouldn’t have been able to feel if Pero got there with you, even if you’d been aware enough to try.
   But as soon as your brain started working again, you could feel his slumped frame on top of you, boneless in that unique post-climax way, and the pounding of his heart behind his chest that was so powerful that it rocked your torso with every single beat.    Neither of you had any words for a good long while after that, but when Pero started trying to make his arms work enough to lift himself up, you suddenly remembered where you were.
   “Fuck.    Pero, I told you – not here!” you griped, throwing your arms down on the mattress on either side, to keep yourself from slapping his ass.
   But he merely chuckled heartily, and even though you were mildly annoyed, you loved hearing that sound so much.
   “You did not even try to persuade me to stop, Belleza,” he smirked, placing a sloppy kiss on the base of your neck. “We will put clean sheets in the bed if it makes you feel better.”
   “God, you’re like a horny teenager.”
   “Don’t even try to tell me that you didn’t love that,” he said with a giggle.
   Then he kissed you again, and rocked his hips into you, just once, which made his now soft cock twitch inside you, sending a flurry of responses from your core through your body, resulting in a minor jolt.
   “Okay, okay, I’ll admit I love it when you take me by surprise, but Pero…” you started, intending to let him know that if he was thinking of going again, he could forget it.
   “I’m only teasing, mi amor. I am spent, for now, and we should have lunch anyway.”
   He’d recovered by then, so he pulled out and got up, and then helped you to your feet where he had to hold onto you for a few seconds because your legs were a bit unsteady.
   “Are you alright?” he asked, unwilling to let you go until he knew that you weren’t gonna collapse.
   “Yeah. That was just… intense,” you answered, testing your own steadiness by shifting your weight from one foot to the other a couple of times.
   “It was not just my imagination, that was different than usual, yes?” he mused, still keeping a solid hold on you.
   “Very different.”
   “But you do feel okay?”
   “I’m fine, love. Just not quite back to my usual strength yet,” you reassured him, and then let him keep his arm around your waist while you made your way to your room to freshen up. “It is strange, though. It’s been over three months since I woke up, I should be fully recovered by now.    Unless something’s been permanently damaged.”
   “I do not like the sound of this, Angel,” he replied, while his grip around you reflexively tightened further.
   “I know, and I don’t mean to scare you. I’m mostly fine, but it’s like something’s just not quite right, and I can’t tell what it is.    It could be that my soul never fully healed, or that my nerves are actually fried, or maybe it’s psychological scars. I just don’t know,” you pondered, and while he didn’t seem to have any response to that, you caught him working his jaws a few times.
   Still, by the time you’d changed clothes and cleaned up from both the construction work and the lovemaking, your strength had returned, and you felt mostly normal.
   It was spring again, and even though this winter had been snowier than usual, it was all gone now.    The snowmen you’d built with the kids outside the house, and down in the horse’s enclosure, which had made them snort and kick the white creations until they were just piles of snow again, had all melted and disappeared.
   The air was mild once more, bringing the promise of summer back with the heat of the sun when it touched your neck on your way up to the main house.    Everyone was already seated when you got there, and Doris was just about to tell them to dig into her fabulous tomato soup, when she spotted the two of you, and a familiar wrinkle in her forehead appeared.
   “Well, how gracious of the Tovar’s to join us today, of all days. I suppose there’s still no point in me asking?” she griped, eyeing Pero specifically, and you knew what she was referring to, which made you smile a little.
   You remembered the joy in Shaggy’s voice when he’d described the whole tomato-soup running quarrel to you, but then a pang of guilt sliced through you, distorting your smile into a slight grimace instead, so you quickly sat down and just stared at your plate.    You’d visited the graves just yesterday, but no amount of atonement ever made you feel any less responsible for their deaths.
   Poppy was always present for meals these days, probably because she was trying to be supportive of Hero, and she seemed to be getting pretty comfortable with the family as a whole.    What was left of it, anyway.    It was only you and Pero that lapsed in appearances up at the main house during the days.
   When the kids were home, you always went with them to every meal, but when they weren’t, you sometimes found excuses to duck out.    That was all because of the guilt, and Pero did his best to try and coax you into not letting it control you, but sometimes it just got to be too much. Especially in the dining room, because that was where you’d been introduced to them all and had created so many fond memories of them.
   Doris seemed to notice that you were uncomfortable, so she let Pero off the hook this time and just told everyone to dig in.    The others chatted while they ate, but you kept your head down and just focused on the soup, until the worst of the guilt had eased down. And then when there was a pause in the conversations around the table, you took the opportunity to speak to Poppy.
   “The tulips are beautiful. I was down there yesterday, and the colors just make such a difference. Thank you.”
   “Of course. I’m always happy to sprinkle a little color into the world,” she brightly replied, and then grew more somber. “Besides… they were all good people. They deserve to have their resting-place well cared for.”
   “Yes, they do.    You’re a very good person too, Poppy,” you complimented, and she smiled widely at you before the blush that spread across her face made her duck her head down to hide behind her hair, which was flowing freely over her shoulders today.
   But apparently, your willingness to speak again made Doris decide that you could handle a little discourse, which meant that Pero was no longer off the hook.    She fixed him with a steely glare, no doubt trying to mimic his scowl, but just not having the face for it, which just made her look comical.
   “Just tell me, for goodness’ sake! I can’t even make the damned soup anymore without thinking about it, wondering what I’m doing wrong!” she pleaded, expecting him to laugh at her and trying to stay stoic against him.
   But for once, Pero didn’t smirk at her, which unsettled her since she was so used to that response. So, rather than stoic, she suddenly looked terribly uncertain, probably expecting him to be rude or make fun of her.    She couldn’t have been more wrong, though. Because his expression softened, and a hint of melancholy found its way into his features.
   “The best tomato soup I can remember having tasted, was my mother’s,” he said, and there was a deep warmth to his voice that even you had only heard him use a handful of times. “But there was no spice or other ingredient which made it superior to yours.    It was just her love.”
   For the first time since meeting the cook, you saw her give Pero a genuinely affectionate smile, and a slight shine appeared in her eyes.
   “Of course, I should’ve known. No better spice in the world.    Thank you.”
   “You are welcome, Do,” he answered, using Sam’s favorite nickname for her. “And thank you for another perfect meal. You are the best cook I have ever met.”
   That made the smile on her face vanish and be replaced by shock, disbelief and awkwardness, which had her on her feet and clearing the table in no time, so that she could hurry away into the kitchen.    No one else commented on the unusually warm-hearted exchange between them, and once she was gone, Pero turned to you.
   “We should get back to the bedroom,” he said, as casually as ever, and your gaze unbiddenly went around the table, looking at the family as they absorbed that sentence.
   You then rolled your eyes in annoyance at your husband, who had just gotten up and was innocently holding a hand out to help you up if you needed it, seemingly oblivious.
   “You just had to phrase it like that, didn’t you?” you huffed, earning you a pair of raised eyebrows.
   “What?” he asked, and he seemed genuinely confused.
   That is, until he too looked around at the others, saw their smiling faces and realized what it had sounded like he’d said.    And that smug smirk appeared on his face so fast.
   “I was referring to the construction, but I am happy to explore other uses of our time, if you prefer, mi amor.”
   You got up without taking his hand, and then scoffed.
   “I thought you said you were spent…” you mocked him in a low voice just after you’d passed him, and something almost dangerously hungry came over him.
   He tried to snag your hand, undoubtedly to try and do something more or less inappropriate to you in front of the others, but you managed to dodge out of his reach.    However, that only seemed to ignite something even more predatory in him, and he all but launched at you, making you squeal and jump into a sprint out of the room.    You darted through the ballroom with him right on your heels, but he caught up to you by the time you got to the front hall.
   You were still squealing as he grabbed your waist, forcing you to stop before he almost hurled your back towards the wall, but also caught you before you actually hit it.    Using his body to pin you to it, he then started peppering your neck with kisses while his hands effortlessly located all the little tickly spots along your sides, and within moments he had you gasping with laughter.
   “AH! Stop it, Pero!” you wailed in between breaths, uselessly trying to pry his hands away.
   “Too much for you, hm?” he hummed in return, and you tried to squirm out of his hold, but he was just too damned broad, he effectively had you in a cage. “Yield, esposa.”
   “Never!” you giggled, and he suddenly stopped and pulled back, but only enough to look into your eyes.
   The smugness was all gone from his face and instead, he looked happy. Bright in a way he hadn’t since you’d woken up.    He’d always loved the fighter in you. The stubbornness and the inability to ever give up when it mattered, and while winning this little mock fight didn’t strictly speaking matter, it was still a sign of your continued improvement.
   Because you hadn’t made an effort to stand up for yourself at all in a long time now.    He was understandably overjoyed to see that part of you returned, even if it was just to try and get away from being tickled, simply for the hope that it gave him for your recovery and your future.    His hands stilled on your sides, and then came up to cradle your face.
   “There you are, Belleza. I have missed you.”
-=¤=-
   Two weeks later, it was your anniversary. You’d met and began to know Pero Tovar exactly one chaotic year ago.
   For once, you’d actually made some plans together, and since you wanted your family to be a part of the celebration, those plans consisted of a fancy dinner up at the house, complete with a cake. Followed by some games with the kids, who would then stay up at the house while you and Pero went for a ride with the boys and then had your house to yourselves for the night.
   That morning, you woke up rested and energetic, and decided to do some morning yoga. It had been ages since the last time you’d done any of the exercises, and your body protested the movements profusely.    But it still felt good. You felt stronger than you had ever since waking up, even strong enough that you decided to try going for a run.
   Pero was still asleep, having been up for parts of the night with Johnny. He still had the odd bad night, and whenever he did, it was your husband he turned to.    Last night had been a bit tougher than usual, so your partner had eventually carried him over to your bed and set him down in between you, to help him feel safer, and he was now sleeping soundly, cradled into Pero’s chest.
   You snuck out of the house, having left a note on the bedside table and brought your phone, to prevent a repeat of that other time you’d disappeared in the early morning without waking him.    As you headed up to the gates you found Coulson outside the garage, as always starting his day by tending to the fleet of vehicles.
   “Good morning, Mrs. Tovar,” he greeted with a polite nod, and it still made you smile whenever someone called you that.
   “Good morning, Coulson,” you chirped.
   “Been a good long while since I saw you out and about at this hour. Anniversary-jitters?” he prodded, but you enthusiastically shook your head.
   “Nope, just feeling strong today.”
   “Even better,” he smiled, and he kept smiling as he delivered the following information as well, even though he knew that you wouldn’t approve. “I shall keep an eye out for your return, and fair warning: if you’re not back within thirty minutes, I’m coming to get you.”
   “Oh, come on… Thirty minutes? That’s barely enough time to get my heart going,” you grumbled, raising your arms out to the sides in a questioning gesture.
   “Mr. Tovar’s orders, I’m afraid,” was all he offered as an explanation, so you made a mental note to have a talk with your husband later. “Clock’s ticking, so hop to it.”
   “Hmpf. You hop to it…” you mumbled while shooting him an annoyed glare, although it was also full of affection.
   He just grinned at that while you approached the gates and waited for them to swing open.    Once out on the road, you quickly found your rhythm, keeping a slow and steady pace, careful not to get carried away just because it felt good. But it really did.    Your muscles felt alive and powerful, responding so readily that it was quickly becoming impossible not to pick up speed.
   Within fifteen minutes your chest was burning with the effort, since your lungs weren’t used to this kind of activity right now, but that was kind of good, because it forced you to slow down.    Then you remembered the time-limit, and begrudgingly turned back.    But you understood Pero’s concerns, and even if you had preferred to keep going that morning, he was well within reason to want a watchful eye kept on you.
   He wasn’t overly fond of his new responsibility as the head of the estate, and everyone’s boss, and he had thus far tried to stay as far away from all that as he could. Becoming a father and caring for you had more than filled his plate.    But he was certainly smart enough to use the resources at hand to help him keep you from making his life any harder, and if it helped him to sleep soundly, you could accept a little inconvenience.    It was probably for the best that your first run in months wasn’t too long, anyway.
   When you walked back through the gates, Coulson was still there, nodding approvingly at you after checking his watch, and you couldn’t help feeling like a child being given a pat on the head, so you childishly stuck your tongue out at him.    That made him chuckle and shake his head, before returning to his work.    But then a ping in your phone with a tone you didn’t recognize made you stop and dig it out of your pocket, and when you unlocked the screen, a message was displayed.
   --ADMINISTRATOR REQUIRED AT THE HUB--
   “What the…? Coulson, what’s the hub?” you asked, stopping to turn back so that he’d hear you, and he answered without even taking his eyes off the car that he was polishing.
   “The main computer.”
   “You mean the one in the fireplace?”
   “That’s the one,” he confirmed, still without pausing his work.
   “Can you show me how to… reveal it? Get to it?” you inquired, but he just kept massaging the vehicle with the specialized cloth.
   “No need. The system will recognize you as you approach,” he gently reminded you, making you feel a bit thick, because obviously it would.
   Everything electronic on the estate did.
   “Right. Of course,” you mentally kicked yourself, while Coulson just hummed a quiet good day, ma’am as you walked away.
   You weren’t in the mood for computers that day, and especially not ones that could think for themselves, but you went there anyway.
   The fireplace had been carved out of one giant, solid block of dark stone that reached from the floor to the twelve-foot-high ceiling, and around the large opening was a beautifully carved, thick and broad wooden frame that was just polished and lacquered, not painted.    The frame was purely ornamental. It didn’t have a ledge or shelf where you could put pictures or matches, it was just there to add even more beauty and uniqueness to the room.
   You felt like a complete idiot while you walked up to it, unable to imagine how something that looked so solid could in any way open for you.    But as you approached, a loud thud, followed by the same kind of mechanical sounds you’d heard when on the phone with Coulson as he’d opened it, sounded through the room, before the giant stone did indeed start to move.
   It rose from the floor, straight up into the ceiling, presumably hidden between the walls on the next floor somehow, revealing a small empty space, perhaps big enough for two average sized people, if they weren’t afraid to get cozy.    The walls were made of the same wood, treated in the same way as the fireplace ornament, giving the space a warm and strangely inviting feeling.
   You stepped inside, feeling very small and breakable as you passed under what had to be many tons of rocks hanging above you, but also just because you were entering a restricted area, belonging to a dead friend, which made it kind of sacred.    Once you were in, the fireplace was lowered back into position behind you, effectively locking you in, which instantly made your senses wake up and the warm feeling disappear.
   As soon as the hidden door was completely closed, a green light came on somewhere above you, and you felt the small space begin to drop.    It was an elevator, which wasn’t all that surprising, but it didn’t have any floor-indicators or annoyingly bad music, and it moved for much longer than you would’ve expected, just to reach a basement.
   But as the door opened, you were met with an entire wall of computer technology, far more advanced than anything you’d ever seen before.    Sleek white metal panels with small led lights interjected with tubes of some sort, which were luminescent blue, and seemed to be filled with liquid rather than wires.    And at the center of the wall was one large screen, displaying a picture of the estate from a bird’s eye view.
   “Good morning, Mrs. Tovar.”
   The voice seemed to come from every corner of the visible space in front of you, and you stepped out of the elevator to take a closer look.    From your perspective, the room looked half-moon-shaped, bending away from you at the middle, but that was probably just because the computer was bent in that shape, not the actual room.
   It was too big for you to be able to assess just how big the room was, but you had a feeling that it was huge. There was something about the muted humming in there that made you feel like it went on for a good distance.
   “AIVA… I should’ve known this was you.    Well, you’re gonna have to tell me what’s going on before I can say if it’s a good morning or not,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your waist in an attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort of feeling like you really didn’t belong in that room.
   “Your husband sternly made me promise not to address this with you until your mental health had improved.    However, your recent activities would seem to suggest that it has, which is why I must now ask you to assume full administrative responsibilities.    With the passing of Mr. Rose, all clearances and access have been transferred to you, but without your confirmation that you accept these responsibilities, I cannot perform upgrades or system alterations.”
   “Oh, for fucks sake… I don’t know anything about computer-systems, why the hell did he have to pass this headache over to me?” you questioned, not at all expecting the machine to have an answer to that.
   “Because he trusted you,” it offered, and effectively shut down your less than helpful attitude. “I am a largely self-supporting program, I only require monthly reviews of updates and alterations which I make to the system, to ensure that I’m not malfunctioning.”
   “But that’s my point, I wouldn’t know if you were malfunctioning no matter how much I reviewed you…    There must be someone else that’s better suited for this,” you said, hoping that it would have an answer for this one, but of course, it didn’t.
   “Not at the moment. Right now, you are the only one who has access to my systems, and in order to change that, you must first agree to these responsibilities in order to gain access to advanced settings.    From there you would be able to remove yourself from the position of primary admin, but only if someone else that my systems are familiar with and have thoroughly vetted, is ready to immediately take over for you.    I must always have a primary admin.”
   “Okay, fine,” you agreed, hoping that this wouldn’t require fifty signatures. “Just show me where to sign, I have an anniversary to get to.”
   “I only need your verbal acknowledgement along with your full ten fingerprints, for confirmation.”
   A large touchpad which looked like any plain piece of glass, was extended from the center console in the wall, just underneath the screen, and you placed your palms and fingers flat against the cool surface.
   “Thank you. I will now display the past 4 months of waiting upgrades, for your approval.”
   You were about to argue that it didn’t matter what it showed you because you wouldn’t be able to make heads or tails of it anyway.    But as it turned out, Sam had been kind enough to make the process exceptionally simple.
   On the screen, a long list of files appeared, full of codes and numbers that you didn’t understand.    But attached to each file was a short and simple explanation of what that program did, what the update was for, and which potential risks it would expose the system to.    This meant that you could quickly get an idea of just what this computer was doing every day, what it was capable of, and what you could use it for, and it kind of fascinated you.
   Once that review was done (it took less than two minutes) the desktop appeared, looking much like any computer desktop, with the exception that this one didn’t have any of the programs or icons that you were used to seeing in computers.    It had folders named Security, Surveillance, Maintenance, Staff, Visitors and a few others.    But the one that caught your eye, was the one named Pegasus.
   You tapped on it, and it opened to reveal just one file, titled “Future”, and when you tapped on that one, Sam appeared on the screen, making you gasp and step back.    It was just a video, but the screen was large enough to make him look life-sized in front of you, and the image quality was so impeccable that it suddenly felt like you were just looking at him through a window.
   He must’ve made the video before the journey, because he looked really healthy and every bit as energetic but levelheaded as you remembered him.    Just hearing his voice again made tears fall from your eyes, and what he was saying only made your feelings intensify.    He’d known all of you so damned well.
   He’d known exactly what would happen once he was gone, and he’d made sure that you’d all be taken care of. But also, that you’d stay together.    The plan he’d set in motion was perfect, and the more he talked about it, the more you began to wonder if this had been in the works ever since you’d first set foot on this estate.    It seemed farfetched, given that you knew how he’d more recently planned to send all of you away. But still…
   Sam had told you that you weren’t the only applicant for the job, but that you were the only one being interviewed, and you’d since found out that he’d known almost everything about you, before you’d even met him.    And now it made you wonder if he’d somehow engineered for you to come here. If he’d sent the application to you specifically, only distributing it wider so that you wouldn’t suspect that he already had his eye on you.
   Could all this somehow have been part of one grand plan, devised by the most brilliant mind of your time?
   He couldn’t possibly have predicted that you’d fall in love with his Tovar, but he’d seemed so relieved each time he’d found out that his best friend had tried to hurt you, only to have failed to drive you away.    It had seemed to put his mind at such ease, every time you’d decided to stay, despite what you’d been through, almost as if he’d been afraid to lose you. And not just for Pero’s sake.
   At the time, you’d assumed that it was because of his love for his brother. That seeing how much of a positive effect you’d had on Pero, had made him happy to see you stay so that his friend wouldn’t lose that side of himself completely.    But now that you heard him talk about the family and describe his suggestion for your future, it all seemed to take on different meanings.
   By the time the video ended, and Sam’s smiling face was frozen on the screen in front of you, so warm and loving and grateful, you knew that he’d somehow seen all of it coming.    That his brain hadn’t just been capable of great feats of engineering and mathematics, but of a level of prediction that was far beyond what any normal brain could accomplish.    That every decision he’d made, had been to bring about one particular outcome.
   The man had wielded his own kind of magic.    For what purpose it had existed, you could only guess, but you were certain now that Samuel Rose had been given a gift, deeply hidden underneath the genius of his mind.    And you couldn’t wait to find out what the future that he had sculpted for you, tailored and chiseled with every word spoken and every expression shown, would bring.
   You stepped closer to the screen and reached out to touch his face on the cool glass, letting your mind make the imaginary leap that he was actually there and could feel your love for him through your touch.    You hadn’t been there when he’d left this world, something that had hurt you in a truly profound way, once you’d learned that he was dead. But you’d also been glad not to have that image of him, weakened to the point of unrecognizability, be your last memory of him.
   With this message, the man had given you the gift of forever seeing him as an indestructible entity, capable of affecting the world even long after he’d left it, and finally enabling you to truly let him go.    To not feel guilty for anything concerning his departure, and just be happy that you’d known this extraordinary man and that he’d been a part of your life for as long as he had.
   And suddenly, that feeling which had been creeping along your spine for months now, the feeling that something was off, or missing, just vanished.
   “AIVA?”
   “Yes?”
   “Delete this video, please.”
   “Are you sure?”
   “Yes,” you nodded firmly, secure in your decision.
   It was meant only for you, and there were parts of it, things Sam had told you, that no one else should ever hear. Not even Pero.    A moment later, his face disappeared from the screen, and the desktop re-emerged.
   “File permanently deleted.”
   “Thank you,” you offered, smiling with the sudden feeling of lightness in your heart.
   “Will you be implementing Mr. Rose’s plan for the estate?”
   “Absolutely. And I’m assuming he’s left instructions for you?”
   “Of course.    Shall I begin to send out the advertisements?”
   “Please do. Thoroughly vet anyone who applies and send me their details.    Also, I’m gonna need those plans that Sam talked about, and if you could look into getting the supplies we’ll need, I’d appreciate it,” you rattled off, surprising yourself with how naturally you’d already begun to think of the machine as your third hand.
   “Certainly. All details will be forwarded to your phone.”
   “Good,” you said, excited to get this train rolling as you turned to leave, finding the elevator door opening as soon as you approached.
   “Ma’am?” the machine beckoned before you left, and while it was technically accurate, you didn’t much like being called that.
   “Please, just call me Peg.”
   “He was right to choose you, Peg. To manage the estate,” it said, and you stopped and turned halfway back towards the computer as another thought occurred to you.
   “Back on the plane, when I first asked you why he’d made me primary admin and you couldn’t answer… Had he already made these plans back then?”
   “Yes.    Sam knew that he was dying long before he even built this place. In fact, it was part of the reason why he did build it, and he initially created me only to guard it.    He was always searching for a way to protect the people he loved, even when all he had was Mr. Tovar. And as his family grew, so did I, but he always knew that a computer alone would not be enough.    He spent many years searching for someone who could fill his shoes, and you were everything he had been looking for. You never once disappointed him.”
   “But did he ever hint to or suggest that he might be looking for someone specific? That maybe him finding me wasn’t a coincidence?”
   “My records are unclear on that matter. He did appear to be conducting a very targeted search, but I’m certain that he didn’t know who you were until he found you.”
   “Do you know if he found me before or after he sent out the application that I responded to?”
   “The application was sent only to you.    Which, now that I think about it, would seem to suggest that he was searching for you specifically.”
   A smile grew inside your heart as the computer answered, and thereby sort of confirmed what you were suspecting.    It made a small lump made of pure love form in your throat. Small, but still big enough to rob you of your voice, so you just nodded at the machine before once again turning to the elevator and stepping inside.
   Coming back to your house, you found everyone awake and busy getting breakfast ready.    Pero looked like he’d just rolled out of bed with his hair tousled into a right mess and his eyes barely open, but he smiled when he saw you, and paused his efforts to make coffee to come and give you a hug.
   “Good morning, Belleza. How was your run?” he asked, clearly having read your note.
   “Really good. And Coulson kept tabs on me, as ordered,” you said, with just a hint of indignation in your tone, which made him pull back with eyes that were suddenly wide open and apologetic.
   “Sorry… I just worry…” he sheepishly admitted, but you just smiled warmly at him.
   “I know, it’s okay,” you assured him, and he cocked his head to the side with a mixture of surprise and happiness on his face.
   “Wait… something is different about you today. You are… balanced. Calm, the way you used to be,” he observed, searching for the right words to describe what he was sensing.
   “I believe the word you’re looking for is Back,” you proudly announced, squaring your shoulders. “I’m finally all here again, every bit of the old blando that you know and love.”
   The smile he gave you was absolutely radiant, and his arms tightened around your waist until he could lift you up and spin you around while his smile morphed into an ever-growing laughter, which you couldn’t help but be infected by.    The kids didn’t understand anything beyond that their guardians were suddenly behaving ridiculously, but they couldn’t stop themselves from smiling at you either.
   “What’s up with you two, and what does blando mean?” Emma chuckled at your antics.
   Pero let you down on the floor again while you answered her, but he kept hold of your waist in order to keep you close so that he could pepper your cheeks, neck and shoulders with kisses, while you squirmed in his grip to try and look at Emma while you talked to her.
   “It means softie, and it’s what your uncle used to call me, after we’d first been introd-…” you were cut off by the feeling of your husband’s hands travelling a little too far south for a room full of kids. “Oh, come on, honey, I know you’re happy but save that for later!”
   He stopped himself when he heard the warning behind your giggles, but the hunger in his smile didn’t go anywhere.
   “As you wish, mi Diosa. But later you are all mine,” he cautioned, which made you snort.
   “I’m always yours. Even when you’re a goof.”
-=¤=-
   Hours later, when the chores in the stables were done, and you were getting ready to go up to the main house for dinner, Pero was watching you get dressed when your phone pinged for what had to be the thirtieth time that day.
   “I have never heard your phone make this much noise in a single day before.    What’s going on?” he questioned, eyeing the device with a suspicious glare, as if he was worried that it was being deliberately disruptive on your big day.
   “Oh, yeah. AIVA called me down to see it, this morning.    I’m officially the manager of the estate now, and apparently there’s a lot that needs managing,” you explained, purposefully keeping the details of what you were currently working on from him, until you’d have time to have a real talk about it.
   “Ay, I told it not to bother you yet…” he groaned, but you just shrugged.
   “Yeah, it told me that you made it promise, but that it couldn’t wait any longer, and that when it saw me go for a run, it decided that I was well enough.    But it’s okay, I don’t mind.”
   “You didn’t want to have this responsibility at all, if I remember correctly. So, what’s changed?” he asked, clearly surprised by your sudden lack of annoyance at the computer.
   “Everything. Everything’s different now, and not just for you and me, but for everyone who survived.    This place, these people… that’s all most of us have now, and if I can help keep us all safe and together, then I’ll shoulder any responsibility I need to.    Even if it means working with a machine.”
   “Asombrosa… You really are yourself again,” he said with a voice that was only just managing to keep from cheering.
   “I really am. So, let’s go and enjoy tonight, because we have so many reasons to celebrate, and so much to look forward to,” you suggested, and you’d finished getting dressed by then, so you just watched him as he appraised the deep blue knee-long cocktail dress you’d chosen for the evening.
   It was figure-hugging without being too tight, and then loosened a bit over the thighs to make it more comfortable to move in. While sleeveless and V-necked, it only revealed a little cleavage, and you’d decided to let your hair flow freely over your shoulders that night.    It must’ve been almost six months since you last had it cut, so it was longer now than you’d ever kept it before.
   He opted not to comment on your looks, choosing to just kiss you instead, but it was all you’d ever need to know how beautiful you were to him.
   The dinner was incredibly nice. Everyone had been looking forward to something fun happening, and the joy that filled the dining room was practically palpable.    Everyone shared their best stories, even embarrassing themselves for the sheer pleasure of laughing together again, creating a thick atmosphere of love and happiness and appreciation, which lasted for hours.
   You were pleased to see Poppy getting along famously with the kids, because you’d been a bit worried that she’d find their natural curiosity and friendliness a tad overwhelming, but she seemed to find them only charming and endearing.    All the kids had a great evening too, getting lots of attention from everyone, and laughing until they cried. And since it was a special occasion, they were allowed to eat candy and stay up as late as they wanted, so they were just in heaven for the duration of the festivities.
   And, as promised, there were games and shenanigans after the meal was at least mostly digested, so everyone ended up getting a bit of a workout too. Especially with the best game of the evening, which turned out to be something called Running Kubb.    It was a Scandinavian thing apparently, consisting of throwing sticks on cubes in combination with a kind of relay competition.
   But as the energy of the family started easing out into more of a mellow cheerfulness, you and Pero said goodnight to everyone, and went home to get changed for your ride.
   The boys were really excited, snorting at how long it took you to get them ready, not that King helped with that at all, since he was incapable of keeping himself from knocking over or stealing everything within his reach, including your shoe.    He somehow got his teeth around the heel of it, while you were bent over, looking for something in his grooming-box, and when he tugged on it, he sent you into a forward somersault.
   But you were in such a good mood that all it managed to do was make you laugh until your stomach hurt, and even though Pero was initially worried that you might have hurt yourself, he couldn’t keep from laughing with you once he’d made sure that you were fine.    The sun was setting when you finally set off, and with both horses being so spirited, you decided to just let them run as freely as the woods would allow, so that they might be a bit calmer on the way back, when it would be completely dark.    But, to your surprise, Pero didn’t turn back when you thought he would.
   “Where are you going? It’ll be pitch black in about ten minutes, shouldn’t we be heading back?” you asked when he turned onto a path which you knew wouldn’t lead back home.
   “Not yet, Angel. There’s something I want to show you. Don’t worry, it’s not very far.”
   “Haven’t I seen everything in these woods by now? Or have you been hiding something from me?” you questioned, but with a lighthearted tone.
   “No, you’ve been there before, just not like this,” he promised, and you could hear the excited smile in his voice, which made you curious.
   The path you were on led to a few interesting spots, most of whom you’d visited multiple times, but none of them were special. At least, not like the sanctuary, and you weren’t heading there.
   It took another fifteen minutes to reach the place he was aiming for, and by then it really was pitch black.    But that was also how you knew that you’d arrived, because when you emerged from a section of more closely positioned pines that obscured the view, you were suddenly riding along a lit path.
   Ropes covered with twinkle lights lined each side of the path, and up ahead you could see lights hung in and around a group of trees, creating a little oasis in the dark.    There were flower-wreaths hanging on every tree-trunk along the way, no doubt Poppy’s handiwork, and once you got to the oasis, a canopy of flowers had been draped over the clearing, by using a net.
   And that net was also filled with little lights. Just enough to let you know where you were putting your feet, but not bright enough that you couldn’t still see the stars through the little open patches in between the flowers.    It was hung high enough that even the horses could stand under it, and it had to be some thirty feet in diameter.
   On the ground was a battery-powered cooler off to one side, and to the other was a bed, made of thick furs and covered by a wool blanket, in case the night got chilly.    You also noticed a large backpack behind the cooler, probably holding a change of clothes for you each, and more than likely one or two extra blankets as well.    Pero was nothing if not always concerned with your comfort.
   You looked at him as you came to a stop, and he just smiled at you before dismounting Pace and starting to take all his gear off. You did the same with King, and then gathered the saddles and bridles next to the cooler and the backpack.    There was hay already laid out for the horses just outside the clearing, and they found it right away, leaving you and your husband alone under the canopy.
   Granted, it wouldn’t have taken too much planning or hours of setup to put this together, but you never stopped being amazed at the thought and effort that he put in to ensure that you’d keep making memories together.    For a moment you felt a bit guilty that you hadn’t even considered surprising him with anything, but then, you would’ve been perfectly happy if the night had ended at home, whereas he clearly wanted more.
   “And here I thought we were gonna have a simple night in…” you said while you walked up to him and took his hands.
   “We have those all the time.    An anniversary deserves more effort, especially with the two of us, and the number of times that we have come close to not getting to celebrate anything at all,” he reminded you, unknowingly adding to your guilt.
   “I wish I’d thought of something like this,” you mused, trying not to sound disappointed with yourself, but it didn’t succeed.
   “If you had, then I would not have gotten to surprise you, and I truly love doing that,” he grinned, absolutely thrilled with the entire situation, which instantly set your mind at ease.
   “You are a very special person, my love. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have you,” you smiled back, and a glint appeared in his eye, before hunger filled his frame.
   “Then show me,” he suggested, and then seemed to rein himself in as he remembered something. “But, before you do, I have something for you.”
   “No, please tell me you didn’t get me anything…” you pleaded, suddenly feeling guilty again, but he quickly cured you of that, once again.
   “Don’t worry, Belleza. This gift does not come from me.”
   He reached into a pocket, and pulled out a small black velvet bag, which he opened and then reached for your right hand, pouring the contents of it into your open palm.    Two rings of different sizes. One for each of you.
   “Oh…… Sam,” you breathed, unable to find any other words.
   But Pero did.
   “He gave them to me just before he died. It was the very last thing he did in this life.    He was so grateful to you, for so many reasons, but most of all for never giving up on me. I will never know what I have done to deserve such love, but I no longer question it.    I love you, and I want to be with you, always.”
   That lump that was made of pure love, filled your throat again, but you had to say something in response to such a beautiful declaration.
   “Always,” was all you could manage for now.
   But your husband didn’t need anything more.    He picked up the smaller ring, took your left hand and slipped it into place on your finger, and of course it fit perfectly.    Then he held his hand out to you to let you put the other one on him, but for a moment, you just pinched it between your fingers, taking a real close look at it.
   You had no idea what kind of metal it was, but that wasn’t what almost hypnotized your eyes to keep staring at it.    That was because it sparkled. There were no rocks on it, it was plain and perfectly smooth, just like you’d asked for, but still it sparkled as though a million stars had been compacted into that little circle.
   “They’re not metal. It took me a long time to figure it out, but I am sure he didn’t make them with any metal,” Pero said after you’d been admiring it for a bit.
   “Then what are they made of?” you asked, since it sounded like he had figured it out eventually.
   “Diamonds.    You asked for smooth, but you never said that he could not use whichever material he wished.    I don’t know how he forged them together, but they are made from hundreds of tiny fragments of diamonds, this is why they twinkle like the stars,” he explained with awe, and you could only agree, shaking your head in amazement but also unable to keep from smiling.
   “He always managed to do more than what was asked for, without ever doing too much,” you said, and then made a move to put the ring where it belonged, but he stopped you.
   “Wait, there is an inscription inside. It’s the same in both rings.”
   Curious, you changed the angle so that the light fell on the inside of the ring as you turned it to see what it said.    It was difficult to make out, because the inside was just as sparkly.
   -The Earth Remembers-
   Pero had clearly been perplexed by these words for some time, because you hadn’t even finished reading them before he threw a couple of questions at you.
   “What does he mean by that? Do you understand it?”
   “I’m not sure. He might mean just literally. The Earth apparently remembers everything, so in a way, we’ll always live. Our story will always exist somewhere in time.    And his too,” you offered, and your partner seemed happy with that.
   “I would like to believe this. It would mean that our lives, and our love, will carry on forever,” he speculated, and you could only agree.
   “It will. Something this strong can’t die.”
   To emphasize your words, you took his left hand, and brought the ring to its new permanent home, and then you set about showing your husband exactly what he meant to you, just as he’d asked.    It took most of the night, but it didn’t matter.    You had time.
>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<
Link to Chapter 40
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