#/ boredom is a cruel mistress

[jadedwiles]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 ... ‘ 𝕿𝖠𝖳𝖳𝖮𝖮 𝕬𝖭𝖠𝖫𝖸𝖲𝖨𝖲. ’

i. “ starve the ego, feed the soul ” on her chest. ii. a wrestling ring behind her right ear -- a sentimental favorite of hers. iii. “ i swear i lived ” across her collarbone. iv. the moon phases along her spine. v. a skull - centric piece on her right arm. vi. “ euphoria ” above her left knee. vii. a snake - centric piece on her right arm. viii. “ ( 500 ) ” on her left wrist. ix. “ pma ” on her left foot. x. a skeletal pinky - promise on her left arm. xi. “ you are the thing that comes from your soul ” on her ribcage. xii. a heart with devil horns and a tail. xiii. a lightning bolt on her wrist -- her first tattoo, an ode to aj lee. xiv. small miscellaneous tattoos on her fingers and ankle.

[fueledbysano]

𝐓𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒.

♱ ft: Kakucho/Izana, Shuji Hanma, Ran/Rindou Haitani

♱ content/warnings: angst, cheating, alcohol consumption, unrequited love, second lead trope.

♱ a/n: so this has been in my wips since September. I have more characters in draft but I decided to post what I have finished bc I really miss putting out content here since I've been busy. enjoy 🤲

𝐊𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐎 — “I loved you first"

He was the man who had always been there for and with you; dating way back to your childhood.

Right from the moment Kakucho met you, he knew he had to cherish this girl as much as he can, and as long as he can, and he could never stop, not even for a second.

Every dumb banter you ever had, every Christmas mornings at five, every spontaneous Saturday afternoon, every speed bump, every pang of boredom and anxiety you ever experienced together—he carried that lesson with him.

and he carried that lesson with him when you married Izana.

As you bind the last of your vows to the silver-haired man before you, it was then that Kakucho realized that it didn't matter how much longer he's loved you; when fate put Izana in your life— in a marriage of convenience.

And most importantly, he carried that lesson with him when you started playing the martyr wife.

It was too good to be true— to have a man of status, attractive looks, and fascinating aura as your husband and all to yourself.

So it didn't shock you in the least when you discovered lipstick stains on his shirt that weren't yours, with a faint scent of a cheap perfume you don't bother spending your money on.

“He’ll change.” “Maybe, he isn’t used to marriage yet.” — were just one of the many things you told yourself into thinking that there is still hope for your marriage.

Kakucho finds it heartbreaking to see you act the part, and though he's never confronted you directly about it, he makes every effort to support you—something your own husband couldn't even do. and to witness you fall just as deeply in love with someone else as he did with you.

Because sometimes love means taking a step back. If you care about somebody, you should want them to be happy even if you wind up being left out.

One evening, when Izana had another not-so-secret meeting with his mistress, you stayed in while sipping wine and reading passages from a book of melancholy poetry. The wine had started to fuel the voices in your head and the lines began to hit a little too hard that you didn't realize the tears streaming from your eyes.

It was routine at this point; to cry yourself to sleep, wishing that the only man you wanted felt the same way.

However, you also failed to recognize the man who genuinely expressed his intents and feelings to you; who happened to pay you a visit at this particular moment.

Kakucho also noticed the fresh tears you've been shedding while you were asleep on the couch in the living room with the book held loosely in your hand.

Even if you haven't spoken yet, he already knew what's been upsetting you. So with a bitter sigh, he took the book from your hand before returning it to it's rightful spot on the bookshelf, and then sprawling a blanket over your body, fixing your frame into a more comfortable position before cleaning up the dishes you'd left on the table.

It really didn't matter that he'd loved you for years, because to be in love with someone half as in love with you is a cruel curse, and the fact that you too get to feel that way makes Kakucho's heart hurt even more.

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 — “Choose me.”

He was the one who said that he didn’t care about the ring on your finger; that this was merely an affair by sinful adulterers.

Your coincidental meeting at a bar led to a one-night stand which caused more than a little bit of friction when you came in as the new Toman executive and his colleague the very next day.

He then received the second dose of shock when he found out that you were, in fact, married, as your husband paid you a visit at the headquarters one day in a bid to resolve your tumultuous marriage

At first, you didn't comprehend the tinge of concern in your heart as you glanced over your husband's shoulder to meet the eyes of your secret lover. Will it be over for good?

Once your husband has gone off to your home, waiting for your return, Hanma finds himself locked inside your office, as if your man hadn’t just been in it minutes ago. “There’s my favorite adulterous whore.” He smirked, making himself comfortable on your seat as you were noticeably leaning against the tall windows in distress.

“This is just… great.” You sighed heavily, reaching to your drawer for a smoke. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Before you could even reach the handle, Hanma had already pulled you onto his lap in a firm grip. With sorry eyes, you smooth his chest and tugged on his collar softly, “I’m… married.”

With one push of his knees, your body fell onto his, letting his sinful lips lap on the cleavage exposed by your low neckline dress, “This— is wrong.” you gasped out, clutching onto his suit.

“Then tell me to stop, and I will.” He insists, but you were already too deep into his touch, and instead, your hands finds themselves discarding the buttons of his suit which landed you getting bent over on your own desk, at the end of the day, mutually claiming that it’s just sex.

But what you both didn't realize at that time is when your regular affair grew into taking on missions together, having dinner at unreasonable hours, and attending lavish events with each other.

Hanma is still clueless of what your marriage looked like, and he refuses to know. He was the other man, but he didn't feel like one. How could he when you constantly allowed yourself to be drawn into his antics and gave him your undivided attention?

That's why he started to worry when he noticed the crack in the glass— you have been staying home longer than usual, wearing your wedding band more frequently, then eventually having your husband fetch you at work.

And he finally gets the chance, in his car after a successful mission, your phone rang and displayed your husband's name on it, but instead of picking right up, you sent him a glance, a rather inquisitive one. “Okay, here it goes—” and with his words, the car brakes all at once.

“Your choice, it’s simple— him, or me. And I’m sure that he’s great, but, [ Y / N ], I love you.” And that was then you realized that it had already become more than a casual affair.

At the end of the day, Hanma only wishes that he is the first star you'll be gazing at when the night falls.

𝐑𝐀𝐍 — “What does he have that I don't?”

He was used to working towards everything he’s ever had. However, he’s envious of how Rindou easily had you under his touch. It’s a pity— how worthless all his efforts turned out when you fell right into his little brothers’ arms. Maybe, it was a “youngest sibling” thing; to be able to get anything they want at will.

He was never selfish with Rindou… But couldn't he be even just for once— with you?

“Hi, I’m glad you could be here…” Your embrace was the perfect Christmas present to him as he welcomed you into their home. This Christmas Eve, your gifts to each other is the precious time, the thought you put into it as you spend it together. So other than the wrapped chocolates and gifts beneath the tree, your Christmas didn't come from a store... and, you know what? It really did mean so much for Ran.

He appreciates your company, hell, even just your presence— to be with him and Rindou on aimlessly planned days, to the ones that matter most. And even if you hadn’t realized it yet, he wished you could give him the same attention you do with Rindou.

“Where’s Rin?” You question as he serves you a hot cup of cocoa, and he could feel his heart aching for a second. “He got some ice. He’ll be back soon.” He flashed a smile and offered you his company on the couch.

He wanted to be jealous of Rindou, but at the end of the day, he knows that the choice is all yours to make, and that harboring resentment toward his brother is the last thing he would do in this world.

He was savoring the remaining time he had to himself with you, listening intently to every word you beautifully spoke and cracking up at your jokes. But when Rindou comes back, he notices how your eyes shine.

That glimmer of admiration— something he looks for but never finds until the younger brother is around.

Being drunk switches off the best parts of your brain and leaves the fool to run your life, to run your mouth. But for Ran, it silenced the longing in his heart that you aren’t his to love.

It takes a lot of condensed pain to produce each drunk, and so to look out there and see the storm clouds is enough to break both soul and heart.

And as he returns after the fourth refill, he finds you and Rindou passed out on each other on the couch, with his face snuggled up to yours that flashed a faint smile. So with a bittersweet smile, he pulls the neighboring blanket over your bodies, and tuck your hair away.

Ran thought his heart would break seeing her love someone who is not him; although it did for a moment, he slowly felt full of life upon seeing the two most important people in his life finally get together.

[acapelladitty]

Scriddler fic - Bolt The Door

Summary - Edward decides to play the role of stalker as he follows Jonathan around the city while he conducts some business. (nsfw)

Also posted to AO3

Arousal was a fickle mistress but as Edward danced through the shadows of the rapidly darkening Gotham streets in pursuit of his unaware partner, he found it impossible to deny the thrill of the unaware chase and the growing hardness which pressed uncomfortably against his bottle green slacks.

At the other end of the street, his collar tucked high as a deep plum scarf covered most of his identity, Jonathan Crane wove his way through the quiet streets, unaware of the stalking presence which had been following him for some time now. Not for any nefarious purpose, but Edward had found himself afflicted with a terrible boredom that sparked a mischievous desire to play a game with his unassuming partner.

Thus far, things had been simple enough. Jonathan had visited a local pharmacy to pick up a prescription under a name which did not belong to him and he had returned to walking the streets with purpose. Which purpose, Edward was unsure, but the thrill of the uncertain made his steps light as he maintained a steady distance.

The sun disappearing rapidly over the far horizon, Jonathan appeared to take advantage of the declining light to turn on his heel and cut down a darkened alleyway.

Edward followed, tactfully using the shadows to remain hidden as he too rounded the sharp corner.

Jonathan was no longer alone.

A man, his clothing cheap and ragged at the thin edges, stood opposite him and from this perspective, Edward could only just make out the sickly features which broke free of the man's face. An addict. One of Jonathan's contacts perhaps? A hench? An informant? Most likely a dealer, given his threadbare presentation.

Edward, unable to hear their dialogue, instead focused on his observations. Jonathan towered over the unknown dealer, his impressive height allowing him an easy intimidation as he stood with confidence.

Squeezing his thighs together, Edward could not ignore how hard he had grown. How his fingers trembled with arousal as he watched from the shadows, unseen.

A sick, voyeuristic pleasure danced along his skin with every passing moment and he basked in it like a cat in the early morning sun.

A soft noise emerged from Edward's throat in surprise as negotiations clearly turned sour and Jonathan struck out with his fist, catching the dealer in the nose as an audible crack preceded the howl of outrage which the man made as he fell backwards on his ass. It was unexpected; violent and cruel but utterly delightful

Curled around the wall for extra protection, Edward's groin pressed against the cool stone roughly, almost rutting against it as he watched Jonathan approach the now-fallen man.

A glint of steel as a knife appeared in the fray and concern lanced through the arousal which heated Edward's core but it quickly proved to be for nothing as Jonathan dipped to snatch the shaky knife from the man's fingers. In one fell swoop, Jonathan dropped to his haunches and drove the blade deep into the chest of the writhing figure.

Merciless.

Brutal.

Mesmerising.

Palming his cock through his slacks, Edward allowed the adrenaline sweeping through his veins to guide his messy actions as the heel of his hand ground against his throbbing cock, the friction wonderful against his hard, confined length.

A clenched fist blocked the sweet sounds which threatened to slip free his lips as his orgasm struck him with urgency. It was wet and uncomfortable and so utterly wrong that he felt almost light-headed as his free hand clutched at the wall for support.

A screech of approaching sirens caught Edward's attention and he pulled himself flat against the wooden doorframe to his back as his body tensed. All too soon, an ambulance flew past; its blue flashing lights screaming an emergency as the sirens and lights quickly grew less intrusive with each passing moment.

Pushing off the door, Edward turned once more to see if Jonathan were still crouched over his victim but his eyes widened in surprise as he was greeted with an empty space. The body lay perfectly still, sightless eyes still staring up at the unbroken moon, but the murderer was nowhere to be found. Glancing around, he crept closer to the corpse, assuming that Jonathan had continued his path out of the alleyway onto the opposing street.

A gasp tore free of Edward's throat as he approached the corner, only to find his body slammed into the alleyway wall, the damp stone there making him see stars for a moment as his face found itself pressed against the hard surface by an unseen force.

"Unhand me at once you phili-"

"Did you enjoy the show, little voyeur?"

The question wrapped around his ears like a lovers kiss, forcing a renewed warmth through his frame as Edward recognised the honeyed, yet mocking, tones.

"Jonathan." Edward muttered, confirming his suspicions as he tilted his head free of the wall for a moment before finding it slammed back there by a rough hand. "Let me go."

"Why? You've been watching me, since I left the apartment I suspect, so why would I let you go now when you've been so desperate for my attention?"

Unable to deny the accusation even as his cock stirred within his boxers once more, Edward instead settled on open indignation.

"Desperate? For your attention? Don't flatter yourself, Cra-"

His words dissolved into a moan as Jonathan's thin hand pushed roughly against his overly-sensitive cock, snaking its way up to fiddle with his zip as he made quick work of the button holding Edward's slacks together.

A flush broke across Edward's skin. He wanted this. Wanted Jonathan to discover his little secret. His hidden shame.

"Well, well, well." Jonathan deadpanned, his stoic words coated with an undeniable heat as his fingers dipped within Edward's boxers. In less than a moment, he had discovered Edward's little mess, two of his willow digits pulling free with what little remained of Edward's spend coating the tips of them. "What a filthy beast you are. Did you come before or after I killed him?"

Shame and embarrassment roiling within his frame, Edward kept his mouth shut as a fresh flush spread across his cheeks. It was not the answer Jonathan wanted and Edward found himself flipped in place, his back now pressing against the filthy alleyway as Jonathan caged his body neatly.

"Before or after? Let's leave no secrets between lovers, even if one of those lovers is a indecent boy with no shame."

"After." Edward muttered, pinned by Jonathan's sharp gaze as his head tilted messily against the stone wall for support. "Just after you killed him."

Nodding his understanding, Jonathan pressed his groin against Edward's hip and Edward bit back a soft groan at the noticeable hardness there. His head felt light, arousal and shame swirling in such a way that his breath shuddered its way free of his chest.

"I provided a show for you," Jonathan smirked, his lips pulling into a sadistic smirk, "and now I think I'm owed my own little performance."

Thin fingers pushed against Edward's lips and he opened them obediently, the familiar taste of Jonathan's fingers mixed with the slight salted tang of his own release quick to coat his tongue. His teeth nipped at the edge of the long digits and Edward found himself rewarded with a stunted growl for his efforts.

"On your knees, Edward. The night is still young and the Scarecrow demands his due."

Regarldess how aroused he were, the pompous words still elicited a roll of Edward's eyes even as he crouched down to his haunches. A performance, sure, but like hell he was kneeling on his $800 suit in this piss-stained alleyway.

[panda-writes-kpop]

Princess! Handong x Suitor! Reader - Queen of Aces

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! I hope everything is well for everyone! ❤️

TW: Reader and their family is struggling financially, crowds, reader is kind of mean and a nervous wreck under pressure, Handong's parents are kinda shady (obviously not irl, this is just part of the storyline, please just go along and ✨️suspend your disbelief✨️)

Summary: Desperate to single-handedly save their family from ruin, Reader takes a wager and tries to woo the princess. What happens when their last resort actually works, and, to complicate matters further, they fall in love with said princess?

♡ Masterlist ♡

Why are the fanciest clothes so insufferable? Is it really such a crime to look good?

You pull at the collar of your top for what must be the millionth time as the sun beats down on you. You grab a lace handkerchief from your pocket as you attempt to wipe sweat from your face.

I’m meeting royalty, right? I have to look as best as I can!

The royal gardens in this castle make the one at your mansion look like child’s play. Flowers from many different countries and empires line every walkway, and the walkways themselves twist and turn around every possible space that encloses the garden. The fence of the garden is a eight-foot tall hedge that surrounds the palace on three sides, and it naturally combines with the castle to create a privacy wall that keeps prying eyes away.

You’re not the only suitor that’s waiting under the scorching sun for a chance to meet the famed princess herself - Handong. Her beauty is said to be unmatched by any other in the land, but no one has ever seen more than a black and white sketch of some of her basic features. Even then, it was rumored that it was commissioned by none other than the princess herself to settle the rumors that she was some sort of horrid monster because she stayed hidden from sight.

The others in line ahead of you are experiencing varying degrees of nervousness. Some look like they’re ready to bolt when given the chance to go, and others look like this is something that they do every day. All of them, however, share one difference to you - they all have an expensive gift in their hands. Some are holding jewelry boxes, others have roses and chocolates, and some even have items that are famous in their home countries or kingdoms.

You, on the other hand, had gone for a more understated approach. One of you dearest friends, Lisa, had taken up tailoring and sewing as a way of “curing her endless boredom”, or so she said. It didn’t take much convincing for you to get her to make a small stuffed cat, one that was big enough to be cradled between your arms. Although Lisa made you promise to tell her where her work was going after it was delivered, it was a worthy sacrifice to make in order to have the cute yet odd creature in your hands right now, at this moment.

I wonder if any of these people are in the same situation that I am?

The truth was, your family was struggling for money. They had enough money to scrape by, but the maids and servants that you dearly loved as a child were now jobless and looking for other forms of employment. From what you had heard from late-night discussions that you weren’t supposed to hear, the family would only have enough money for another month or so before they had to start selling off farmland and the other properties, like the lake that you and your friends had gone swimming in as teens.

So, a potential marriage with royalty would more than solve your family’s money issues. You weren’t looking for love nor a happy marriage; instead, you wanted a way to save your family from becoming one that lived on the rugged roads. Was this surefire? No, but it was better than leaving everything up to fate.

What is fate, if not a cruel mistress to everyone that happens to meet it?

You feel your nerves start to rise as the line starts to diminish in front of you. You weren’t the last person to go because whenever you looked back, the line that gathered behind you seemed to grow longer and longer as time dragged on. You dared to glance back one last time before a royal guard approached you.

It’s now or never, I guess.

“Are you ready to meet the princess?” They ask, and you gently nod your head.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You mutter at a barely audible volume as the guard leads you along another path.

The flowers seem to increase in intensity, number, and color as you continue to travel along this path.

This place is stunning… no wonder why the princess wanted to meet her future partner here.

You remember the day that the announcement was made - an announcement about the future Queen needing to find a partner urgently before her spot on the throne was given to someone else.

~

Lisa dragged you down the main crossroads in the middle of the kingdom as you protested against her.

“Lisa, for the thousandth time, I do not give a shit about what the royals have to say!” You loudly exclaimed as Lisa scoffs.

“Well, I do happen to give a shit about what the royals have to say, so I’m here. Since no one else will let me drag them along, I had to bring you. If I knew how much complaining you were going to do, I would have left your ass at home.”

“Thanks, Lisa, I appreciate the invitation.” You rolled your eyes before intentionally trying to keep up with Lisa’s long strides. “Do you always walk this fast, or are you just excited because the castle is releasing correspondence with the kingdom after ten years of unbearable silence?”

“So you do admit that you’re curious too!” Lisa teased as a large crowd began to gather around the town square, which was where the announcement was to take place.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lisa, but I do have to admit that I am a little intrigued. What would be so urgent that the royals feel the need to hold such an old-school method of communication?”

“You really are a mood-killer, Y/N!” Lisa whined as you finally stopped moving.

You two managed to find a good spot in the crowd where you could see the stage, yet you still had the anonymity of being in a crowd.

“Considering the fact that neither of us are supposed to be out, don’t you think that my behavior is warranted?” You folded your arms in disapproval as Lisa offered you one of her infamous shit-eating grins.

“You are criticizing the royals for an ‘old-school method of communication’, yet you talk like my grandmother half of the time!”

You smacked Lisa square on her right shoulder, which caused her to howl out in pain.

“You deserved that, Lisa. Don’t say you didn’t.”

“I hate you, Y/N.” She huffed.

“I strongly dislike you too.”

“You see what I mean Y/N-” She stops talking before pointing to the stage, “-there! Right there! The town crier is here to deliver the news!”

The crowd went into an uproar as the town crier held a piece of parchment in their hands. They clear their throat, and the crowd’s noise dissolved into hushed murmurs as they began to speak.

“It is my absolute pleasure and joy to be giving such an announcement on behalf of the royal family.” They pause to clear their throat again before beginning to read from the parchment.

“Dearest, kindest folks of our gracious and noble kingdom - we appreciate your continuous support throughout the past ten years. It has been a rough journey for our family, and although this is a story we are not yet ready to share, we still have exciting and invigorating news to deliver to you all. As you may or may not know, we, the King and Queen, are starting to age in a less-than-graceful way. We are more than excited to say that our eldest daughter, Handong, has verbally expressed her interest in the throne, and we are more than willing to step down to allow her to lead as well as we know she can. The issue arises with the constitution that states that only men can lead the throne without a partner to rule by their side. Since Handong does not have a partner, she cannot take the throne unless we either make a constitutional change, or if she marries within the next year; otherwise, the ability to rule the kingdom will pass down through the line of succession until we find an heir that can take the throne. Our daughter has decided to willingly accept these terms - to find a partner - but she wishes to do so on her own terms. As her parents, we fully support these terms as we find them to be fair and reasonable in every possible way. Therefore, we are more than happy to announce that any unmarried land-owning or descendant of a land-owning person can come to the castle next week for a chance to marry the princess, and we will welcome them with open arms. Handong believes that anyone is fit to rule next to her, no matter how much or little wealth they may have. We look forward to seeing who all may come to us next week. Prepare as much or as little as you wish, but come with a desire for nothing but the best for our kingdom and our daughter.”

The crowd broke into another uproar as the town crier slinks off of the stage. Every person is talking with their minds going much faster than their mouths can articulate. You don’t blame any of them at all - it isn’t every day that a silent empire says that they’ll welcome any person into their castle with the intention to marry their daughter.

“Well, I’ll be damned. I guess I owe Jisoo those coins.” Lisa shrugged as you just sighed.

“You really bet about what the announcement was about?”

“What can I say: I like to play the game!” She laughed before shaking her head. “I said that it would be about the state of the kingdom, and Jisoo bet me that it was about Handong. I thought she was totally bullshitting me, so I bet against her. I swear she’s a witch, I mean, how could she know that?”

“Handong’s our age, right?” You mutter softly as the gears in your head start to churn.

“Yeah, somewhere around us. She might be a year or two older.” Lisa snapped her head in your direction. “You’re not thinking about actually doing that, right?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that. I’d never have a chance!” You lied straight through your teeth to Lisa, but it wasn’t like she would know the difference.

She didn’t know about your money troubles, and if you had everything your way, she would never have the chance to.

~

You take another deep breath to calm your fast-beating heart as the guard awaits for you to cross under the white-painted wooden arch. Once you passed through there, all bets were off on what would happen.

And I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t say that was a terrifying possibility.

You give the cat in your arms a reassuring squeeze before you nod at the guard. They move from their position, and you get a soft and quick ‘good luck’ before they’re off to gather the next suitor in line.

It’s just a one-time thing, and it’s not like this crazy plan of mine will work anyways. What’s the chance that she will actually like me based on my first impression? I should just hurry up and get this over with.

You sigh while setting yourself up for preemptive disappointment. You loosen your grip on the stuffed cat as you pass through the wooden arch.

You look around and you see a mostly-blank grassy area that’s closed off from the rest of the garden by more tall hedges. A small wooden shed sits in the way back of the private garden, and you assume that’s where the gardeners keep their equipment.

It’s just like our property… except for the fact that it’s much smaller and we no longer have any gardeners to take care of our property.

The only other thing in this private garden is a small picnic table, and sitting at that table is none other than the princess herself.

My goodness, she’s prettier than I could’ve ever imagined!

Wearing nothing more than a simple black, knee-length dress and matching black flats is Handong herself. Her blonde hair is neatly combed back to show off her beautiful facial features. She gently sits at the table, as if any motion would cause the picnic table to break into a million pieces. Her brown eyes express nothing but pure boredom as she waves you forward.

“Another suitor?” Handong huffs as you immediately make your way over to her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m sorry about the disturbance, Princess.” You quickly apologize before offering her a short bow.

Maybe that will get me in her good graces?

After bowing, you look at her face, and you notice that her eyebrows are scrunched, and an amused smile is on Handong’s face.

“You aren’t royalty, right?” She asks before softly giggling to herself. “If you are, then it’ll be the first time that a royal has ever bowed to me.”

“Oh no, my family owns a few farms just outside of the kingdom.” You explain as you glance over to the open spot on the picnic table. “May I sit?”

Handong laughs again, which causes you to frown.

Have I done something incorrectly? I thought those courtesy lessons from my private tutor were supposed to help me in situations like this…

“Go right ahead. I could use some…” She trails off as she looks at the sky. “How should I word this… competent company, perhaps?”

“I’d be more than delighted to, Princ-”

“Please call me Handong. I hate when people use such formalities with me. It feels like I’m talking to my grandparents.” She chuckles as you take a seat opposite from her. “May I ask what you’ve brought with you? It doesn’t look like you’ve brought a crown jewel or something else of extreme value.”

She gestures towards the stuffed cat in your arms, and you immediately hand her the cat.

“My best friend made it.” You explain as she admires every feature of the cat, as if it’s the most interesting thing that she’s ever seen. “I wanted to bring you something that would bring you comfort after a rough day. I used to have many stuffed animals like that one, and they would comfort me after I had a tough lesson with my teacher or I got scolded by one of our maids for sneaking out some baked goods.”

“I love cats. My parents never let me have one since I was too busy, you know, training to be the future leader of a country. I appreciate the gift.” Handong gently holds the stuffed cat in her arms, and a smile settles on your face as you feel yourself start to relax.

You can do this, Y/N. She’s just like any other person. There’s nothing to be scared about!

“Are you scared about being the future Queen?” You ask out of curiosity, and you notice Handong tense up, so you immediately backpedal. “I mean, you don’t have to answer the question. It’s totally personal and I’m such an as-”

Handong reaches out and squeezes your hand, which silences you from the moment her skin touches yours.

“It’s okay. You didn’t grow up in this environment, so it makes sense that you would be curious. I’m just so used to having to lie around everyone by saying that I have no fears about ruling an entire kingdom.”

You, in an effort to comfort her, move your hand so the two of you are holding hands. Handong notices, and a light blush appears on her face.

“You don’t have to lie around me, I promise. There’s no judgment here.” You honestly say as you place your free hand over your heart. “I swear on it.”

“That’s a serious promise. Do you seriously mean it?” Handong softly asks, and you nod. “Of course you do, you’re a part of the reason why I want to rule this kingdom. The good people out there, the kind-hearted people like you, they need someone who’s looking out for their best interests. I want to be that person, the one to advocate for them when no one else will.”

“That’s a noble and bold mission to have, Handong, but I’d love to see the day where you are crowned Queen. The kingdom will be in good hands - I just know it.”

Handong blushes again before smiling at you.

“You’re too kind, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Her eyes widen before she laughs. “Where are my manners? I never asked for your name.”

“Oh, yeah!” You say before laughing along with her. “My name’s Y/N.”

“Y/N, huh? I’ll have to remember that name.” Handong has a serious look on her face for a moment before she relaxes again.

“Handong, I wanted to say that I-”

The voice of a guard interrupts your statement.

“Your Highness? The next suitor is ready.”

You both visibly deflate as Handong lets go of your hand.

“Of course, let me finish up here.” She turns to you again with a warm smile on her face. “I think you’re the first person I’ve met that I could actually talk to for hours on end. Thank you for being you.”

“I think I should be the one thanking you for not dismissing me right away.” You chuckle before standing up. “Have a nice day, Handong. I can only hope that our paths cross once again.”

You get up and head towards the exit, but you hear Handong say something that piques your interest.

“Me too, Y/N, me too.”

~

“Y/N!!!!”

“Yes, Lisa?” You ask as Lisa excitedly wraps her arms around you.

You shake your head in disapproval at your best friend’s child-like behavior.

She’ll never grow up, but I don’t want her to change anyways.

“Where have you been all day?” She squeezes you again before letting go of you. “Have you been out doing business for your family? Did you meet somebody and fall in love?”

Lisa gives you a once over before her infamous teasing smile spreads across her lips.

“So you did fall in love with someone… Who are they? Do I know them? Are they cute, beautiful, or somewhere in-between?”

“Okay, Sherlock, you need to back off.” You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Nothing’s for certain now… but I can only hope that I’ve charmed them as much as they’ve charmed me.”

“Oh, you lovesick fool!” She giggles for a moment as you give her a confused look. “That’s who the stuffed cat was for, right?”

“Yeah… it was.” You scoff as you try to shake off any sort of visible embarrassment. “Don’t look at me as if I’ve grown a third arm, Lisa!”

“I just never thought I would see the day that my dearest Y/N actually fell for somebody!"

“Oh, you’re never going to let this go, are you?”

Lisa laughs loudly with a grin on her face.

“You know me so well, Y/N!”

~

“Lisa, believe it or not, I can walk just like any other normal person!” You holler as she drags you down the main road that leads to the town square.

“Yeah, but you walk slowly! It’s probably ‘cause you have a stick up your as-”

“You can’t go a day without being vulgar, can you?” You mutter with an accompanying sigh as Lisa finally stops.

“It’s one of my charming points!” She loudly announces as you have to stop yourself from ramming into her.

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that.” You say as a crowd starts to gather around you. “Are you sure this is where the announcement is supposed to happen?”

���Positive!” Lisa doesn’t hesitate to shoot you a confused glance. “I thought you weren’t interested in the royals, Y/N.”

“I never said that…” You whisper as the town crier walks up to an already set-up podium.

They pull a paper from their coat pockets which causes the crowd to gasp, and then everyone falls into complete silence.

That’s got to be the official document about Handong’s choice. I wonder if I even should’ve bothered coming here… I felt a spark, but how do I know that she felt the same? Handong could’ve been polite because that’s who she is as a person. Not every person that’s nice to you is in love with you, Y/N!

You cringe at the scolding you’re giving yourself as the town crier clears their throat.

It’s time to know, whether or not it’s good news or bad news. Either way, you’ll be able to make a plan about what to do in order to get your family out of financial trouble.

“To our dearest citizens… our prized daughter, Handong, has come to a decision about her future marriage partner. The problem, however, is that marriage cannot be easily decided in such an informal and minimal setting. What we are trying to say is that we, as Handong’s mother and father as well as the King and Queen of this Kingdom, wish for our daughter to get to know the best of the best of who came to see our daughter; therefore, the following marriage suitors are invited to reside at our castle until Handong believes that she, in good faith, has discovered the best marriage partner to rule beside her for as long as she may reign. Any person who is mentioned in this list is expected to be at the kingdom in twenty-four hours, and if they are not to be found, then their spot shall be forfeited. With no further disturbances, we are happy to announce that our daughter has chosen the following candidates:...”

Your head is buzzing at the thought of spending a long period of time in that castle.

You do realize that if you marry Handong, you’ll spend every waking moment in that castle, right?

You glance over at Lisa, who is enthralled at every word that the town crier is saying.

I really should be paying attention to what they are saying. What if they are calling my name and I don’t hear?

You softly chuckle before turning your attention back to the town crier.

She’d strangle me for not telling her, so I’m sure that I’d know one way or another.

“...and our final candidate who has the honors of competing for Handong’s heart is Y/N L/N!”

I beg your pardon… ME?!?

“What?” You exclaim softly as Lisa screams at the top of her lungs.

Oh God, I’m really never going to live this one down.

~

“Okay, so when exactly in this grand scheme of yours were you going to tell me that you were planning on trying to court the PRINCESS herself?!?” Lisa whines as you sit next to her on her bed.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t think they would make this such public news!” You complain as Lisa smacks your arm for the fifteenth time today.

“You idiot… What do you think was going to happen? That she’d show up in a carriage and whisk you away to her castle?”

“Now look at who's not being nice and polite.” You grumble as she scoffs.

“You lied to my face!”

“One time, Lisa, it was one time!” You rub your temples with your fingers before deeply sighing. “If you want me to be honest with you, then I will.”

“Of course I do, Y/N, you’re my best friend! I’m just upset that I couldn’t be there to support you.”

You reach over and squeeze her arm in reassurance.

“My family… We've been struggling for money as of late. I’m doing this to keep us off of the streets.”

Lisa looks over at you with a sad smile before grabbing your extended hand.

“Does Handong know?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you going to tell her? She deserves honesty from you.”

You chuckle to yourself.

“You’re still lecturing me about love, even after all of these years. Yes, Lisa, I’m going to tell her eventually. I fell hard when I saw her, Lisa. You don’t get it.”

“I won’t, Y/N, because I’m not you. Be kind and true, okay? I don’t think that’ll be an issue for you, since you don’t mind being brutally honest with me from time to time.”

“I will, Lisa. I can promise you that, but I need to go.” You squeeze her hand and attempt to let go, but Lisa keeps a firm grip on you.

“Does your family know?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t want them to know until they have to.”

“I’ll keep quiet, but you owe me big time, okay? I expect a full castle tour from you once you sign those prenups!”

You feel yourself relax more as you playfully shove Lisa aside before exiting her room.

“As if, Lisa!”

~

With as little luggage as you could manage to bring, you approach the castle with a heavy heart, nervous body, and troubled mind.

Is this really the right thing to do?

“Are you Y/N?” One of the guards asks as you nod your head.

I was told to preserve and never quit, but what if this is the exception?

“Good luck, Y/N.” The other guard says before opening the castle doors for you.

I guess I’ll never know what it’s like to give up. Lisa’s right - I am one hell of a stubborn ass.

~

Exploring and living in a castle was about as amazing as anybody would imagine it to be, but you had to tame your excitement around the other suitors. They were pure royalty, which meant that the grand allure of the castle, in all of its glory, did not affect them in the slightest.

Handong, on the other hand, was more than pleased to see your excitement at your living arrangements. You were able to speak to her during dinnertime, as each suitor was given a designated meal or tea time, which was when they could have some alone time with the princess. You ended up getting very lucky as dinner was often the longest meal of the day, but you weren’t sure if that was because there was so much food served, or if it was because you and Handong spent most of the time talking.

Tonight, Handong sat across from you, as she did most evenings, but she didn’t usually reach out and grab your hand as she was doing right now.

“Y/N, I want you to be honest with me… Are you enjoying yourself here?”

You ponder Handong’s question for a moment before answering.

“But of course, Handong! Everyone here is so lovely and welcoming - it’s hard to not feel comfortable here, if I’m being honest.” You shyly admit before digging into the meal presented before you.

“That’s good, but I think I worded my question incorrectly.” Handong clears her throat before letting the pleasant smile on her face become a distant memory in your mind. “Do you have ulterior motives with me?”

“I-” You pause as Lisa’s words ring in your head.

She deserves honesty from you, Y/N. Lisa was right, and I can’t believe I’m admitting that in my head. I’ll never admit that out loud to her, otherwise, I’ll never live it down.

“I never told you anything about my family, Handong, and there was a reason why. We weren’t living in the lap of pure luxury, but we were well enough off to own multiple properties, along with maids and tutors. The problem is… the fields haven’t been supplying like they did when I was a wide-eyed child. We had to release our maids and other servants from their jobs, and the next step we might have to take in order to try to stay financially stable is to sell our property. I don’t want my family to suffer anymore, and I didn’t want to watch as my family fell into financial despair. So, I took action into my own hands, and I-”

“-came to the castle, and then you try to woo me in order to help your family, correct?” Handong lets go of your hand, and she sighs deeply.

“I know how it sounds, Handong, but I’ve really fallen for you. I understand if you need time to digest this information. I would be upset if I were in your position.”

You look away in shame before setting your fork down.

“Y/N, I knew about your family, and I wanted to ask you about it because my family had me look over tax records this afternoon.”

Your heart sinks because you have a feeling that you know what she’s going to say.

“How much, Handong?”

“I’ll be frank with you since you were honest with me, Y/N. We’re talking thousands upon thousands of dollars on each property. It’s way more than the worth of all of your properties combined.”

“I-” You bite your lip in an attempt to hide the sadness on your face. “I’m so sorry I dragged you into my mess, Handong. It’s not your issue to fix.”

“Don’t say that, Y/N. You’re a citizen of this kingdom, just as any other person is. I’m just so… sad that you felt like you had to go to such extreme lengths in order to help your family. It’s not fair that kind-hearted, good people like you have to suffer because my family wants more money and chips to cash in.”

Handong looks guilty, and you can tell that there’s more she’s not telling you.

You, however, have to ask the question that lingers between the two of you.

“Handong, have your parents been raising taxes and not telling anyone?”

As a tear runs down her face, she nods and you gasp.

“The years of silence with so many people going hungry in the streets and losing what is most valuable to them… was because your parents don’t understand how to manage money?!?!?”

“I can’t judge you on secrets that you keep because I have so many of my own.” Handong admits, and you immediately grab her hand.

“You’re not your parents, okay? You are your own person, just like I am nothing like my family. The people we are, in this moment, should not be defined by who we were raised by.”

“It’s not like they were bad parents, Y/N. They just kept so many secrets, and I got sick of them lying to good, honest, and hard working people. I decided to start gathering proof for blackmail, and when I had more than enough, I confronted them.” She wipes a few tears from her eyes as you piece together what she’s trying to say.

“Your parents didn’t like this, correct?”

Handong nods, and you continue to talk.

“In an attempt to salvage the situation and to prevent an uproar, they offered you the throne with the stipulation that you should marry someone else. Your parents, however, wanted you to marry another royal so you would be forced to keep their customs so as to not upset your in-laws. Another royal marriage wouldn’t fly with the state of the kingdom and its economy, so they proposed a rigged ‘competition’ in order to keep everything fair. Am I correct so far?”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Fuck, politics suck!”

Handong laughs at your sudden outburst as she wipes away the last few tears.

“You can’t imagine their hidden disappointment when I told them that I wanted to marry someone who wasn’t a royal.” Handong offers you a sly, teasing smile, and you do your best to remain unflustered as she continues on. “My parents told me that I needed more time to decide, since there was no way that I was in my right mind at the time, so they invited a few of their favorite suitors, along with you, to the kingdom to not raise suspicion.”

“Let me guess… these suitors aren’t exactly crowd-favorites, right?”

“Y/N, I don’t think you understand how many people are depending on you. They have only the hope that another commoner, or at least a non-noble, will be able to change how my family has been ruling for years. When you hit rock bottom, tax collectors can take everything from you but the hope that someday, someone’s going to change how the world works.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“That’s why I need you, Y/N. You can speak for the people you represent because you are one of them. I just need you to trust me.”

“I already do, Handong.” You gently squeeze her hand. “You should know that I trust you with all of my heart, and that’s not a promise I make lightly. Name whatever you shall need, and I will do it with no complaints.”

“Marry me.”

You dryly cough before clearing your throat.

“Are you sure that’s what you want, Handong?”

“I told you, Y/N, I need you to trust me.”

“I- I’ll marry you, Handong, and I promise you won’t regret it for the rest of your life.”

You wink at her before bringing her hand up to your lips. You press a soft, lingering kiss to her hand, and she blushes in response.

“We have much to do, Y/N.”

“I know, Dongie, I know.”

“Dongie?” She gives you a confused look.

“What? You don’t like the nickname?”

“I’ve never had a nickname before,” Handong confesses, “but you can keep calling me that if you would like."

“I would like nothing more, Dongie.”

You sweetly smile at her before raising the wine glass in front of you in the air.

“To the future Queen of this kingdom, and to my future wife: May your reign be long, and your legacy everlasting. I adore you, Handong, and I wish for you to, someday, look at me with the same fondness that I have for you. Cheers!”

Handong raises her glass and offers a toast of her own.

“To my Y/N: You are a bright star in a dimly-lit sky. I can’t promise a future of safety and reassurance, but I can tell you that a future with me will be nothing less than an adventure for the ages. Cheers, my dearest.”

You shyly laugh with Handong before you gently tap your wine glass against hers.

Tonight is a different night - tonight, two souls intertwined in a way that no one else shall understand. The future is uncertain, but my love and adoration for you will never be in question.

[blindingspark]

Early

A moment of connection and understanding is shared in the Baldesion Annex between the warrior of light and a recently exiled prince. Rating: General Pairing: Zenos/WoL Notes: Takes place after and contains spoilers from the end of 6.0 MSQ!

A clear skied morning filled the room of the Baldesion Annex's private quarters, bathing a long strip within in the glow of a bright and early sunrise. 

Looking over their shoulder, they found the large garlean resting soundly- something that seemed rather strange, knowing his usual habits- and comfortably holding them close. They recalled him visiting in the late hours the night prior, more out of idle wandering than heinous intent with the knowledge that he remained in a precarious position even on the peaceable island, before offering him company so as to not merely have him grow listless out of boredom before he eventually accompanied them to bed, scooping the au ra into his arms and holding them close as he drifted. It had been a rather… strange few weeks following their return from the edge of creation, having managed to drag the former prince with them back to the Ragnarok in a desperate bid to keep him from a fate most cruel, even if the proceeding process of keeping him under watch as instructed had been the only means of ensuring he remained alive.

A mage slept soundly, their brows knitting together briefly before opening their eyes to bleary slits, a soft huff leaving them as they lingered in where they lay. Hearing scarcely a sound outside their door, Auri took a moment to savor the moment of a comfortable bed, with no sense of urgency to push them out to face the day- their attention was drawn then as a weight draped across their waist adjusted and tightened slightly, pulling the au ra back and pressing them flush to a radiating warmth. Blinking once, then twice, they glanced down at the source and found an arm around them.

Ah, right.

Auri wiggled slightly in an attempt to loosen his hold enough to sit upright, hardly hearing a huff of protest yet feeling his arm faintly tighten around them,

" 'tis far too early for you to rise, adventurer…" he muttered, not bothering to peek an eye open at them,

"Aye, but routine is routine, even if we have some more freedom now," they replied, wiggling again and letting out a small huff as he remained steadfast, "Besides, the others will check your room any moment now, I'm certain of it!"

"And…?" An eye opened at last to address them, languid as ever, "What would they do if they find my quarters empty? They know full well where I'm wont to venture these days."

Frowning now, the mage attempted once more to move- finally able to do so as they felt his arm lift and allowing them to flip over, facing the blond at last with their mutually tired gaze meeting,

"That… is true," they conceded quietly, "But there would surely be panic among them all the same, regardless of if they know of our bond by now. Not to mention what-"

"What a certain archon would have to say, perhaps?" His expression did little to match the dry lilt of the miqo'te's title, "Mistress Krile I've no qualm with, not after striking a bargain as we did."

Auri's mouth pressed to a firm line, sighing softly, "Yes, even as I understand his importance to the Scions and as an individual, I would not wish to stoke any unnecessary potential… feelings, should he find you here."

Even through his passive façade, Auri could see the skepticism plain in his eyes, a surprised squeak leaving the mage as he then shifted to loom over them, the length of blond spilling over his shoulders as he did so,

"You say as such, though our view of him is equal," Zenos' voice remained groggy from sleep, "He is a worthwhile ally to you, that much is plain, though he seems to want more than that. More than you have ever wished to give, is that not so?"

Peering up at the garlean, Auri eased against the bedding and sighed, resting their hands on their chest out of idleness as their thoughts stewed, 

"Aye… he's made no effort to hide his desire to travel at my side, wanting me to promise I will take him with me even as I've yet to say yes plainly," their words trailed off, the steadiness of his gaze unnerving the mage enough to turn their head and focus on a random point in the room, "He means well in his eagerness, I know, but I simply…"

"He certainly wields a lofty view of you," Zenos' head tilted faintly, "Yet he holds a reverence for your skill all the same, just as I do. What is the difference then, I wonder…"

Auri squeezed their eyes shut with a faintly irritated sigh, "His… His reverence comes from stories others have written about my adventures, and let's that obscure his view when I falter in being the hero he takes me for-"

"Ah." A click of his tongue, "His is a gilded, gleaming display in all its inaccuracy…" 

The blond reached to turn their head to look at him again, a foxlike smile curling his lips, "You are formidable, that much is plain to see, yet you understand who you truly are; every flaw, every scar, every new tale… you merely wish to be seen as such with all that you are."

Auri's eyes widened slightly, a warm flush settling in their cheeks as they nodded, "It… it would be nice if they did." They then sheepishly admitted, reaching up to cup his cheeks and feeling that flutter of pride in how readily he leaned into their touch,

"You sometimes use far more words than needed to suffice your point," they snickered, "But thank you… for understanding."

The blond shifted his weight to settle against the bedding again so as not to have the au ra bear its entirety, steadying himself on his elbows and settling into the quiet of the room once more-

A knock sounded on the door, earning a disgruntled sigh from the garlean as he glanced over to the entrance, "Auri? Are you awake? We need your assistance!" the voice on the other side called; Krile's distinct tone was clear as ever.

Auri sighed and looked to the former prince, noting his subtle pout and pulling him down to place a soft kiss between his brows, 

"You can use my window and go around to the front, just in case they've checked your room already." they whispered, earning a faint grunt of acknowledgement before he slipped out of bed and made his way out with ease.

After lingering a moment Auri sat upright and ruffled their hair, letting out a small huff and swinging their legs over the edge of the bed. Pulling on one of their lounging overshirts, they then padded over to the door and pulled it open, offering a somewhat drowsy smile to the lalafell,

"What needs my assistance at such a bright and early hour, friend?" the mage asked, watching Krile peek down the hall for a moment before looking back up at them,

"Zenos is missing from his room, did he visit you at all?" she inquired, "I know he's rather… drawn to you, I assumed you may have the best idea of his whereabouts."

"Ah…" Auri nodded, covering their mouth as they yawned, "He did, last night at least. He was a bit restless so I offered some company… he's wont to wander but I cannot imagine he would be far-"

"He's out front, Mistress Krile!" A different voice called, drawing both of their attention before Auri hummed,

"I'll find something more suitable to wear out and come with you. We've more work to attend to, after all." they snickered, earning a nod from Krile before watching her make her way down the hall and leave them to the quiet once more.

Perhaps fate will favor us more over time… the mage pondered, sighing and closing the door to ready themselves for the day ahead.

[crimsonbathed]

Participating: @banditnate​ Location: The forest, within a fair distance from the tree.

Boredom. A disgusting creature, one that hungers to no end. Ever searching for its next victim. One that it can engulf entirely, draining someone’s energy as though it thrived off of their despair. Tormenting. A cruel mistress that shared many a lover. No time could protect you from her call, nor ‘secret hideaway’. For she could reach you no matter where you hid, should you make yourself invisible, she will simply smell you out like a hound. It was what drove men, women, and animals alike, to do very, very foolish things. All in the name of ridding themselves of her suffocating shackles. Murder, mischief, lust, all originating from one common root. Boredom. Funny, the things it could make one do. What simple actions will befell those who are afflicted by this plague. It was this very monster that held a tight grasp upon Carrion. She could feel its claws piercing her temples. Tap, tap, tapping away. Pestering her with its persistence. Many things had crossed her mind, sewing a new blanket for her bed. Creating a bodice out of the spider molts she had recovered, sharpening her rat claws. So many ideas, so much to do, at her disposal, and yet . . . it all felt rather dull. It is what drove her to take a stroll. To clear her mind and hopefully find some trouble to get into that would free her from this mind numbing prison, lest her brain melts and begins to seep out of her ears.

The forest was abuzz with life that eve. Birds busy fixing up their shoddy nests from either the rough housing of the Lost Boys, or animals striking at each other, running into the tree which housed the avian homes. Frogs croaked, singing a song with glee over the meals they had received. Carcasses littered the ground, squirrels, rabbits, things she would usually take advantage of by gathering their pelts or teeth, as both proved useful for her craft, perhaps even take a bath to embrace the comfort of such warmth washing over her, and yet, she could not bring herself to meet the earth with her feet. The air carried her away from what could have been great prizes. Another creature could enjoy the island’s gifts on this day, for she had plenty, and could afford to overlook a few materials. Sounds blended together, melding in to one large, cacophony of background noise. It was torment. The day had proven to be nothing eventful, and the monster looming over Carrion’s shoulder only grew larger with each sigh that passed through her scowl.

In what seemed to be divine intervention, as the small folk turned her attention to the left, something rather curious caught her eyes. It was a boy, and for just a moment, her heart fluttered. Perhaps it was just what was needed to cure her of this ailment. She had seen this boy before, Bandit, as he was called. Carrion racked her brain, searching for something that might stick out and aid her. For anything she could recall would prove to be useful in tormenting him. Try as hard as she might to conjure up so much as a sliver of anything helpful, nothing offered itself to her. A female’s face seemed familiar and yet, Carrion could not place her finger as to why. Cheeks puffed out, a huff following. If she could not remember on her own, then his mind would have to lend itself. Surely something good was to reside in there. Cautiously, Carrion moved closer to the man, ensuring she remained silent. Hunting. A wolf tracking a wounded deer. All she needed was one opening where her fingers could root themselves within his thoughts, pulling and ripping at his memories for any information she could gain from. The giants had always been so weak willed when it came to defending their minds, child’s play to get what you want from within them. They knew not how to protect their secrets which they coveted so. Such easy targets, pitiful, really. Barely any fight to retain their unspoken wishes, it almost made it too easy. But perhaps easy was good, for today, at least.

Carrion took her sweet time, sifting through the boy’s mind. Oh how delicious it was to taste of his memories. Bittersweet and full of life. To witness his adventures on the island. Grand battles, bloody and grotesque. Trinkets taken from pirates, small things stolen from their companions. He had a sense of adventure, but these served her none, and would only cause her more painstaking boredom. Drinking in every little detail as she sifted through, one common instance began to catch her eye. A girl. How very curious. Flaming hair and piercing eyes. Oh how he held her close in his heart. It was perfect. Such a simple weakness, one that so many allowed themselves to fall victim to. Love. Desire. Admiration. Whatever you call it, it was the downfall of many a poor soul. Pearly whites peeked out from beneath peach lips as the small folk took shelter within the forest’s trees, watching him from above. ‘Bandit’ as he had been called. Carrion had caught a glimpse of the woman ‘Fiona’s’ voice, just enough to get the perfect mimicry.

From the safety of her hiding spot, the fae projected Fiona’s voice, whispering within the boys ear. “Bandit.” The voice was soft, smooth. Liquid velvet within his ears as Carrion watched. Like that cat that ate the canary, she housed a wicked grin. “Bandit.” The voice called again, this time from the other side. Whispers on the wind of this mysterious woman from within his mind. “Don’t you want to come play with me?” Gently, Carrion would move closer from the treetops above. How very fun it was to torment the boys, unlike the pirates, they were not yet hardened by the atrocities of the real world. Not as badly. To throw her voice about and surround them with familiar tones, people they have known, loved, perhaps even feared . . . oh how her heart leapt at the idea of their wide eyed terror. “Won’t you come find me, Nate? I want to play a game!” Fiona’s voice was playful, coming from various different directions as she called out to him, begging for him to come find her, Carrion’s own malicious intent masked perfectly.

[a-echo-of-gotham]

Alas. Boredom thy cruel mistress. I even have no ideas for magic experiments bc I'm using the Feather for the Wards!

[arsprince]

the corridors of the manor were haunted by the ghosts of its master and mistress — the carcass of their marriage that rotted in the basement, the understanding shared between them that had long wilted with the ravenous flowers in the gardens. he stood before their portrait in the foyer, feeling the painted eyes of his wife boring into him from above with the sort of biblical wrath bearing righteous judgment. it is cruel and vivid in its hatred, and yet an improvement to the cold apathy of her tangible gaze, where it stabbed into his back as surely as the dagger she wished to have in its place — he felt more so than saw stella's presence upon her entrance; the click of her heels, the scent of her perfume, the drag of her skirts against the polished flooring, and the timbre of her voice. he would know her by sense alone, for how moulded she had become to him.

it was his noble line, and his manor, and his bride, and his daughter. it was a hoard he lounged upon, a pile of possessions, yet it had not been enough to satisfy him and his cravings. he understood her wrath and permitted it, for he knew he had scorned her, but he would not stomach her verdict.

@estrla said, i look at you and it is like my throat being cut.

❝ then don't look. ❞ the casual ease is unbecoming of his deep tone, almost petty. at times, stolas thought he provoked her ire for his own entertainment, lest he were to forget she was his living bride and not a phantom haunting the rooms of his house, for all the emotion she spared him. at times, he wished she would throw something at him, or be selfish and find a lover to spite him, if only it would spur any semblance of satisfaction in her and dissipate his guilt in turn. ❝ you are bound to me by obligation, and i to you. ❞ stolas drawled eventually, no warmth nestled in his tone. dealing with her moods, he had discovered early on, was a drab affair that he no longer indulged. presently, he granted her the courtesy of facing her as he spoke, his features set in a habitual boredom. ❝ do not mistake that duty for the slightest indication i owe you anything beyond tolerance. my affairs are my own and i will do as i please, stella. ❞

his irritation was a grand, vile thing, manifesting in the billow of his cape as he took a stride toward her, fabrics casting a flock of shadows that dispersed like wild birds. grasping her chin, he tilted her head up, ❝ so revolt all you want, or don’t, it matters little to me. it’d certainly be more bearable for us both were you to endure in silence, though. ❞

[that-one-bad-memory-blog]

Because I'm gay, I have no life, and I'm bored I'm about to learn the Candy Store dance from Heathers

[fair-fae]

FFxivWrite Entry #13: Oneirophrenia

FFxivWrite 2021 Prompt #13: Oneirophrenia The Void was an endless, empty abyss of darkness, bereft of any aether and any life beyond the warped creatures aimlessly skittering around the ravaged ruins of a civilization that once was. The fearsome beasts of the thirteenth shard were seldom bothered to waste any precious energy fighting among themselves, but one never knew when a Voidsent might find itself starved and deranged enough to attack its kin for the promise of even the smallest spark of aether. The weak did not survive. Fortunately, Shadiyah could hold her own against most foes.

She had never particularly resented her time spent in the Void before. What difference did it make to be wasting away in misery in the Void or upon any other shard? The only downsides were the gnawing hunger and the absolute boredom, but compared to having to deal with people and all their pretenses and all the noise and trouble they brought, was that really so bad? The Voidsent made better neighbors, all things considered.

But things were different now. Now she had a reason to be upon the Source and not trapped in this hellish wasteland. Every moment spent stuck in the Void was another fleeting moment or more lost on the Source, the clock ticking against her. She had no way of knowing how time was flowing between the two shards, much as she had no exit until a rift might appear and she would find herself fighting against all the other ravenous monsters of the Void vying to escape. And so, like them, she wandered directionlessly, stumbling over the wreckage. She couldn’t remember the last ray of light she’d seen, or more importantly, the last morsel of aether she’d consumed. It was a ravenous hunger that consumed every part of her, mind and body, until she struggled to think of anything else. Starved and alone in the empty hellscape of blackness, it was difficult to keep a grip on reality. How many Voidsent had she fended off? How far had she roamed, searching for a glimpse of light? She had no idea how much time had passed since her arrival. She wondered how much more she must endure before she might find a way out. It was then she saw something in the nothingness that made her stop in her tracks, a familiar silhouette in the nothingness, tall and dark, black hair cascading to his shoulder, violet eyes cutting through the shadows. “Master,” she gasped, sinking down to her knees upon the dirt. He strode toward her, bending down to grasp her chin in his hand as the Miqo’te peered up at him. “So you were pathetic enough not only to be struck down, but to get yourself trapped here. Then again, I suppose it is where you belong,” came the familiar voice, coloring the words all the more cruel. She winced, smacking his hand away from her face. “No! I belong with you!” “With me? What makes you think that I want you by my side? That you deserve to be there?” he asked, arching one eyebrow as he gazed down at her. “Did you think I want you back? That I came here to rescue you?” “But… but I thought--” she stammered, feline ears drooping. “Thought what? That you were something more to me than a tool to further my ends? More than a lab experiment I found some, mm… extra uses for?” “Yes!” Shade growled, pushing herself to her feet. “You know that I am more than that!” “Yes, perhaps you’re right. A leech on my aether. A thorn in my side. A tax on my time and patience. Does that sound better?” he asked, glowering down at her. “Master!” she hissed, reaching forward to grasp his sleeve, but he shook her off and knocked her away back onto the dirt. “You believe I am in love with you because I fucked you? Haven’t you learned by now? Did you really think it would be different this time? That I wouldn’t get bored of you just like all the others?” he began to pace a circle around the woman as he interrogated her. “You prrromised!” she snarled. “This is not real! You are not real!” “I am as real as can be, my dearheart. Did you truly believe you could keep my attention?” his deep voice carried a mocking note of pity. “Who could ever care for you? You are nothing.” “Stop it! Go away!” her ears folded, palms pressing over them, flattening them to her skull. “You don’t belong in my world. You don’t belong anywhere,” his words somehow rang clear despite her attempts to muffle them, his face void of any emotion save for the disgust and disdain he felt for her. “We would all be better off if you ceased to exist, don’t you think so, my dearest?” Shadiyah squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head, anything to block him out. “You are not him! You are not real! Leave me!” She gave up her vain efforts to silence his words, her hands slipping down instead to wrap her arms around herself, fingers digging into her shoulders, tearing the skin. “There is nothing I have wanted more, my Mistress.” When her eyes snapped open, there was no trace of the man left behind, and she scrambled to where he had once stood, grabbing only a handful of sand. “Melifce… do not leave me here,” her whimpering plea went unheard.

@shadiyah-ffxiv, @of-darkness-and-dreams​

[korruptbrekker]

Send in an expression and/or character(s)!

Click for better quality.

(Please send requests, boredom is a cruel mistress. /lh)

[typinggently]

I've been listening to Misstress Violet a lot lately and it took me until now to realise that the concept seemed so familiar because of the Lady Violet 'verse I had for Tommy a while back. It makes sense, too. Luxurious tights, satin panties, lace padding, etc etc. But oh, what a different vibe.

And honestly I'm so tempted to see if I can make it work. I adore Tommy blushing-flushing, trembling, and I genuinely doubt I could attempt to make a cool-cruel mistress out of him, but the idea of him in the Lady Violet persona/disguise with his usual attitude, the teasing, the confidence, that little hint of put on boredom? Making Alfie work for it for once? Fucking superb. It's a concept.

[elisabettacormac]

The Gigolo by Françoise Sagan

Francoise Sagan

 The Gigolo

(Des yeux de soie) 1975 / Silken Eyes and Other Stories

 Translated by Joanna Kilmartin

  He walked beside her along the rain-sodden paths full of dead leaves, giving her his hand now and again to guide her round a puddle. He smiled as he did so, a genuine, unforced smile. It occurred to her that this walk in the woods round Meudon would have penance for any young man, especially with a woman of her age. Not an old woman, but a bored, jaded one who walked through the woods without any real pleasure, merely because it was preferable to the cinema or a crowded bar.

 Of course, for him, there had been the drive there, in the luxurious fast car which it gave him a childish pleasure to drive; but was that sufficient compensation for this interminable silent walk along these desolate autumnal paths?

 'He's bored, he must bored to death.'

 Strangely relishing the idea, she turned down another path, one which led them further away from the car, with a sort of dread mixed with hope - the hope that he would suddenly revolt against this boredom, lose his temper, say something wounding, unforgivable, anything that would underline the gap of twenty years between them.

 But he always smiled. She had never known him irritable or rude, never seen him smirk in the ironical, condescending way of very young men who know they are desirable. The smirk which said so plainly: "All right, as a favour to you... But remember, don't irritate me." The cruel smirk of youth which had made her cold, hard and wounding, and had so often caused her to end an affair. With Michel, for instance, the first time she had noticed it, then the others...

 'Careful,' he said, taking her arm, saving her from tearing her stockings or her dress, her well-cut elegant dress, on a bramble. If he should ever smirk like that, would she still be able to thrown him out like the rest of them? She didn't feel she would have the heart. Not that she respected him more than the others: she kept him completely, dressed him, gave him expensive presents which he didn’t throw back in her face. He never went in for those stupid, boorish ploys the others indulged in, those sulky moods when they wanted something or felt they were the injured party in the bargain struck between their bodies and her money - that was it, really: they felt hard done by. They would get her to buy them all manner of luxuries and expensive trinkets which they didn't even want simply in order to restore their self-esteem. The word esteem made her laugh inwardly. It was none the less the only word for it.

 Perhaps Nicholas' charm lay in the fact that he really hankered after these presents; not that he demanded them, but he took such evident pleasure in receiving them that she felt like a normal woman rewarding a child instead of an ageing mistress buying a fresh young body she secretly despised. She quickly dismissed such thoughts. Thank god, she didn't go in for being maternal and protective with that bunch of grasping young men who were too handsome for their own good. Neither did she go in for disguising the facts; she was cynical and clear-headed, and they knew it and respected her for it, however grudgingly. 'You give me your body, I pay for it.' Some, piqued at not having to rebuff her, had tried to introduce a vague touch of sentimentality, perhaps in order to get a little more out of her. These she had sent to other protectresses, explaining to them exactly where they stood: 'I despise you, as I despise myself for putting up with you. I only keep you for the sake of those two hours at night.' She relegated them to the rank of animals, deliberately, without a qualm.

 With Nicholas, it wasn't so simple: he brought no trace of affection, or caddishness or sentimentality to his role as gigolo. He was friendly, polite and a good lover, not very expert, perhaps, but passionate, almost tender... He stayed at home all day, lolling about on the carpet, reading anything he could lay his hands on. He didn't ask to be taken out all the time, and when they did go out he seemed to be unaware of the meaningful looks they attracted: he was as attentive and smiling as if he were escorting a young woman of his choice. In fact, apart from the condescension, the brutality with which she treated him, there was nothing to distinguish their relationship from that of an ordinary couple. 

 'Aren't you cold?' He glanced at her anxiously as though her health really mattered to him more than anything else in the world. She felt exasperated with him for playing his part so well, for being so nearly what she might still have hoped for then years ago; she remembered that at the time she still had her rich husband, her rich and ugly husband, whose business affairs were his sole preoccupation.

 How could she have been so stupid as to have failed to take advantage of her beauty, now faded, and been unfaithful to him? she had been asleep and it had taken hr husband's death and her first night with Michel to awaken her. Everything had begun that night.

 'I asked you if you were cold.'

 'No, no. Anyway, it's time we went back.'

 'Wouldn't you like my jacket?'

 His beautiful Creed jacket... she glanced at it without interest as at some dull new possession. A russet and grey check, its autumn colours suited Nicholas thick, silky auburn hair.

 'How autumnal we are,' she murmured to herself. 'Your jacket, this forest... my autumn.'

 He didn't reply. She was surprised at herself because she never alluded to her age. He knew perfectly well how old she was and he didn't care. She might just as well throw herself into that lake. She imagined herself for a moment, floating in the water in her Dior dress... Thoughts like that were all very well of the young. "At my age, one doesn't think of death or suicide, one clings to life." One clings to the pleasures of money, of the night; one makes the most of things, and of people, such as this young man walking beside one down a deserted woodland path. 

 'Nicholas!' She said in her hoarse, imperious voice. 'Nicholas, kiss me.'

 They were separated by a puddle. He looked at her for a moment before stepping over it, and the thought flashed through her mind: 'He must hate me.'

 He took her in his arms and gently raised her head.

 'My age,' she thought, as he kissed her. 'Just for the moment you've forgotten my age; you're too young to play with fire without getting burnt, Nicholas.'

 And then she exclaimed:

 'Nicholas!'

 He looked at her, a little breathless, his hair rumpled.

 'You were hurting me.' she said, with a faint smile.

 They walked in silence. She was surprised at the quickening of her pulse. That kiss - what had come over Nicholas? - that kiss was like a farewell kiss, hungry and sad, as if he loved her. He was as free as air; women and luxuries were his for the asking. What had possessed him? And that sudden pallor... He was dangerous, extremely dangerous. They had been together over six months; it couldn't go on any longer without leading to trouble. Besides, she was tired, tired of Paris, of the noise and rush. Tomorrow she would leave for the Midi, alone.

 They were back at the car. She turned to him and took his arm in an automatic gesture of pity. 'After all,' she thought, 'the poor boy's losing his livelihood. Even if it's only temporary, it's a nasty blow.' 

 'I'm leaving for the Midi tomorrow, Nicholas. I'm tired.'

 'Will you be taking me?'

 'No, Nicholas. I shan't be taking you.'

 She almost wished that she was; it would have been fun showing Nicholas the sea. He must have been there before, of course, but he always gave the impression of discovering everything for the first time.

 'You've had enough of me?'

 He spoke softly, his eyes downcast. There was a break in his voice which touched her. She had a glimpse of the life he would have, the sordid quarrels, the compromises and the boredom, all because he was too handsome, too weak and the ideal prey for a certain kind of woman belonging to a certain milieu and with a certain income, women like, herself.

 'I haven't had enough of you in the least, could it? It's over six months since we met.'

 'I know...' he said, as though his mind were elsewhere. 'The first time was at that cocktail party of Mme Essini's'

 She suddenly remembered that hectic party and the first glimpse she had had of Nicholas, looking miserable because old Mme Essini was talking to him at very close quarters and giggling girlishly. Nicholas was pressed up against the bar, with no hope of escape. The scene had amused her at first, then she had looked at Nicholas with increasing interest and cynical speculation. These cocktail parties were like horse fairs or cattle shows. One almost expected to see mature ladies lifting the young men's upper lips to examine their teeth.

 Finally, she had gone over to greet her hostess, and passing before a mirror, had suddenly been struck by her own beauty. Nicholas' relief at the interruption had been so obvious that she couldn't help smiling, and her smile had put old Mme Essini on her guard.

 She had introduced Nicholas with reluctance. Then there had been the usual gossip about people and their private lives. Nicholas seemed rather at sea. After an hour, she found him decidedly attractive and resolved to tell him so at once, as was her wont. They were sitting on a sofa by a window, and he was lighting a cigarette when she addressed him by name in a voice that scarcely faltered:

 'I find you very attractive, Nicholas.'

 He made no response, but took the cigarette out of his mouth and gazed at her.

 'I live at the Ritz.' She went on coldly.

 She was well aware of the importance oft he last point. The Ritz was the answer to every gigolo's dream. Nicholas made a slight gesture of protest, but said nothing to show that he had understood. She thought: 'Well, that's that...' and rose to her feet.

 Nicholas got up too. He was rather pale.

 'May I escort you home?'

 In the car, he had put his arm round her shoulders and asked her innumerable eager questions about the overdrive and the finer points of the engine. In the bedroom, it was she who had kissed him first, and he had taken her in his arms with a slight tremor and a mixture of violence and gentleness. At dawn, while he slept like a child, dead to the world, she had gone to the window to watch the day break over the Place Vendôme.

 Thereafter, it had been Nicholas playing patience on the floor, Nicholas by her side at the races, Nicholas' eyes on the gold cigarette she gave him, and Nicholas suddenly seizing her hand during another party and kissing it. And now there was Nicholas whom she was about to leave and who said nothing, who was keeping up this pose of exaggerated indifference.

  She got into the car and threw her head back, suddenly exhausted. Nicholas got in beside her and drove off.

 From time to time on the way back she glanced at this preoccupied, distant profile, and could not help thinking that she would have been madly in love with him at twenty and that maybe life was nothing but a hopeless mess. When they reached the Porte d'Italie, Nicholas turned to her:

 'Where are we going?'

 'We have have to drop in at Johnny's Bar,' she said. 'I've made a date with Mme Essini there for seven o'clock.'

 Mme Essini was punctual as usual. It was one of her few virtues. Nichols shook the old lady's hand, looking rather distraught.

 Watching them both, a pleasing idea came to her:

 'By the way, I'm leaving for the Midi tomorrow, so I shan't be able to come to your party on the sixteenth. I'm so sorry.'

 Mme Essini regarded them both with a bogus air of affection: 'You lucky things, off to the sun...'

 'I'm not going,' said NIcholas shortly.

 There was silence. The eyes of both women converged on Nicholas, Mme Essini's the more meaningfully.

 'Then you must come to my party. You can't stay in Paris all alone, it's too depressing.'

 'What a good idea!' she interjected.

 Mme Essini's hand was already resting possessively on Nicholas' sleeve. The latter's reaction was unexpected. He jumped out and walked out. She found him waiting by the car.

 'What's come over you, Nicholas? Poor old Essini might have been a bit premature, but she's fancied you for a long time. There’s nothing to be upset about.'

 Nicholas stood there without a word and seemed to be breathing with difficulty. She felt an upsurge of pity.

 'Get in. You can tell me all about it when we get home.'

 But he didn't wait until they got home. He told her in a strangled voice that he wasn't an animal to be bought and sold, that he could perfectly well look after himself and that he refused to be put out to pasture with an old vulture like Essini. And in any case he couldn't do anything for her. She was too old...  

 'But my dear Nicholas, she's my age.'

 They had arrived. Nicholas turned towards her and suddenly took her face between his hands. He looked at her searchingly and she tried in vain to free herself, conscious that her make-up had probably not survived the day.

 'You're very different,' Nicholas said in a low voice. 'You're ... you're very attractive. I like your face. How could you...?'

 There was a note of despair in his voice as he let her go. She was dumbfounded.

 'How could I what?'

 'How could you offer me to that woman? Haven't I spent six months with you? Didn't it occur to you that I might become attached to you, that I could...?'

 She turned away brusquely.

 'You're cheating,' she said in a low voice. 'I can't afford to cheat. I've had enough. Go away.'

 Alone in her bedroom she examined herself in the mirror. She was irretrievably old; she was over sixty and her eyes were full of tears. She packed hurriedly and went to bed alone in her double bed. She cried for some time before going to sleep, putting it down to nerves.

[cronquette]

:three:

:three:

Disclaimers:

-Dedicated to Julia/ Silverwolf735

-I do not own any of the Naruto franchise, all credit goes to Masashi Kishimoto

-More informal notes will be situated at the end of this chapter

Enjoy!

-----------------

It is the unknown that excites the ardor of scholars, who, in the known alone, would shrivel up with boredom.

-Wallace Stevens

------------------

“It really is an honour to do this, you know,”

Ino lathered her hands in rich, creamy serums to cleanse her digits, minutes prior washing them clean in water and drying them with a neat rag. She scrubbed generously across her skin, scrutinising the plain pinkette that sat obediently before her, hands held closely in her lap, a myriad of thoughts crossing her mind on whatever to do with the said girl. She hummed lowly, blonde brows knitting in concentration, precision crossing her mind in seaming hatches. She took her index fingers and thumbs and created the scene of a picture between her pale hands, switching portrait to landscape, picturing her close friend in many different styles, each resulting in the Haruno looking absolutely breathtaking. She sloppily grinned, her tongue peaking out of the right corner of her lips; she was utterly excited, and yet terrified at the same time.

Senju Tsunade had entrusted her with the looks of her daughter-figure. There was no question she would push her limits just to add the extra effort in for Sakura. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her, nonetheless. Having the decency and poise for such a role, Ino felt such gratitude, she almost shed tears towards the news. She knew this event would momentarily approach, but since the morning of their breakfast, resting on the patio and chatting hour’s talk within just a few minutes, the days seemed to fly faster than an icarus soaring towards the sun.

And now, now was the day she would have to bear the worry of saying goodbye. Of letting go of a rope she had been tugging on for so long, only to realise her attempts at keeping the tide at bay were futile-- Sakura’s dreams and pursuits were not one for her to interfere, and she would certainly not object to crushing her faith in the world outside the trees that had shielded their forms for so long. She wasn’t so cruel as to drag the pinkette’s mind back to her own ground, for although their opinions on what they would serve to do in the adult world would forever remain sparse, she would also forever support the decisions that would take place in her mind. And vice versa. That, along with others, was one strong thread that had sewn Ino a scarf of belief that Sakura would keep strong and firm, would never falter, and would step up as her identity as a witch. She may have to mask that fact in return of unpromised safety, but there would always be that place in her heart that wouldn’t deny herself of her person. Of her lineage.

“What mood are you feeling right now, Forehead?”

Crystal orbs witnessed emerald globes gleam with calculation, trying to discern her pooling emotions balling up in her stomach.

::

Haruno Sakura had waited years for this-- a decade at most. She had always dreamed of being able to step out between the last two wooden pillars that were the trees that loomed over the warlocks and sorceresses that took residence in said place. There was yet so much to be processed, and yet all she could focus on was the way the Yamanaka’s eyes were trailing over her features, searching like a fine tooth comb, in preparation for the ceremony that was to take place hours after this. She pressed her rosy lips in a thin line, her legs begging to move--to jiggle-- for she was anxious. Never in her life would she imagine to have gotten this far.

The biggest stepping stone prior to this was to convince Shishou to agree with her risky plans. With the way the coven was run, no one expected her to be crowned the Senju’s successor, for bloodline wasn’t accounted for.

Even with the given circumstances-- the two females were not blood related.

With a sharp intake of breath, Sakura stared into the small mirror that sat at her side, portraying her reflection. Her seafoam eyes glistened with a sense of fierceness she had never thought she could exhibit. She searched, her calculating expression causing her brows to furrow, to find the features she had developed through her late mother.

Of course, the colour of her orbs was a definite fact; through her mentor’s words and rutting, few paintings she had of her, she was able to make out the distinct similarities they both shared. Hers just was a tad lighter, and along with portraying the colour of the evergreen lush shades of the forest, she also had the vision of spring splayed like cataracts across her promising eyes. A sign of hope, a sign of happiness.

“What would you do if you were here, mama…” she lowly whispered, burying her head in thick strands of her rose tufts, her features swelling downwards.

“Did you say something, Sakura?”

“No,” she jumped at the presence of Ino, forgetting she was also in the room. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders to prove her case.

“I have the perfect look for you Forehead. Just you wait!”

As the blonde dressed and primmed her, she wondered if a talk with Tsunade would help to understand her mother further.

::

She was never used to wearing such a thick, sprawling gown, but here she was, staring at the person in her reflection-- proud and determined.

Ino really had worked her magic to the fullest potential; she really did look gorgeous.

She wore a white, puffed-sleeved shemise decorated with lace at the cuffs, and around her waist sat a hip pad, tied securely to later on serve the purpose of keeping her petticoats upright and voluptuous. She wore two layers of thick duvets, pleated at her backside hip and profound in accentuating her growing curves. They were both coloured a dark, mesmerising red that gave more life to her softer features, such as her lotus locks.

Her bodice was black, but her stomacher a shade lighter than to what her skirt was. The ribbons laced soothingly around alternate holes, fastening her chest tight. A shawl was twisted modestly over her shoulders to mask her bare, creamy skin, and her legs were covered with stockings, held in place with a simple lace garter. Her leather shoes had a clinky heel to them, which made her an inch taller. She felt as if she had moved up in the world.

Her locks had been braided neatly and swirled into an uptied bun, some strands decorating her face with pink curls. They were decorated with crimson ribbons and her namesake-- artificial ones, that is, Tsunade carefully crafted them for the purpose of adding to her outfit. She looked ethereal, a goddess put forth as the wielder of beauty, and once the moon had arrived to witness her, it was as if she overshadowed the face of light itself, creating merely a substance of glimmer to her rich luminous figure.

Tsunade paid her a visit, later on, when her errands had been fulfilled and she had made sure that everything was in order and in serenity’s embrace had she finally had the time to approach the dear girl. She found her sitting down on the dining table, her usual seat occupied as per usual, but for whatever reason, she looked so small, so frail and fragile, so vulnerable in that moment, that it seemed she was about to break. Her shoulders hung lowly, her head tipped down, her pale, gloved hands sitting perfectly in the centre of her lap.

“Sakura? Is anything the matter?”

She sprung up, like a late flower in Spring, her green orbs encased with gleaming surprise, but she instantly retained her posture once she had a hold of the person in the room.

“S-Shishou,” she greeted, a sense of flustered manner bestowed within her. A tinge of pink dissipated across her face.

“I was only deep in thought, I didn’t mean to stir any worry.”

The elder woman came towards her, prodding the youth to retreat back to her chair. She gazed upon the young lady with fine pride, studying her features, seeing her here was a reminder that an old friend was still by her side, and had entrusted her with the greatest gift she could ever give.

“If I may, would you tell me what’s plaguing your mind, dear?”

It was without hesitation that she spoke, her tone filled with the strength of a rock as she looked at her mentor directly in the eye.

���My mother. What would she have thought?”

::

She was old enough to handle it-- the both of them had acknowledged that fact, Sakura taking advantage of the situation, and therefore having the upper hand. All that was said was needed to be declared, and she had been given her answers. It was then that the Haruno felt truly prepared to take part in her ritual.

::

The ceremony commenced the moment the hand stroke it’s twentieth chime, where as Sakura stood on a marble podium enlarged for a huge cauldron, bubbling with excitement and steaming with delight, and the Mistress herself, the one entirely building the future of the pinkette at that current moment. Everyone from the coven had hurried to observe such an illustrious event, one that such would fill the night entirely with gossip and chatter, small grins of revelation or astounded faces with no other way to convey their reaction.

Whatever it was, all present of the ceremony knew that Haruno Sakura was about to be crowned her jewel, her birthright, the precise channeling of her chakra. She was about to receive it-- all in her very possession, and fret not, for she wasn’t as nervous as what one would have expected. Here she was, being granted permission to finally use her energy fully for the good of the world. There was nothing more she wanted to do, anyway.

Other than step outside the barrier of woodland to discover things beyond her own measure, places she would have only befallen in dreams.

“Haruno Sakura,” the deep voice boomed before her, yet it only made her stand taller before her mother figure, proud and prepared to cross a new bridge in her life.

“Shishou,” she nodded firmly, knowing this and a couple more times into the night will most probably be the last time she could call that name before she would wander off to her own devices.

“The moon is full; your time is nigh.”

She held her subtle breath as she made her way towards the erupting pot, gleaming under the moonlight. She pulled her lids to a close, focusing on every ounce of what she had been taught over the years, days of pouring her heart and soul into her studies flashing before her, memory by memory, as she recollected what she had garnered through the assistance of the dear Senju. Her right hand stretched out, merely feeling the course of ripples dancing through the spherical large sustainer.

Allow yourself to release chakra onto it, Sakura. You will know you have done enough when you will feel an equal amount of force thrusting towards your palm. Do not stop your motions, or rather fear it; you must persevere until the ritual is done. I highly believe in your capability. 

Do it.

She could hear that strong, booming voice coaxing her, drumming through her like a streak of lightning, empowering her. She slowly let loose, feeling cold, energetic waves course through her veins and release through the centre of her palm. Through the darkness of her shielding lids she could feel a glint of blue being lit ablaze as she did so, proving that she was indeed exhibiting her energy towards the concoction. She had never gotten enough time to study the ingredients laden within the black tub, but she knew its purpose. Tsunade had bestowed a specific spell to help conjure her birthright-- birthstone that would have best suited her, something she would eternally have, that would be in her possession only.

Steadily, she felt something intangible begin to plow through to her. It wasn’t as strong as the force she had been applying, but something told her it would gradually increase, so she strengthened her pose and focused more on the task at hand. Being put in a silent crowd of spectators was a little overwhelming, however the process of the ritual alone was not a prospect that daunted her predominantly.

She reached the pinnacle of her strength, and under the moon’s supervision, a bright, warm, glowing emerald ascended in front of her, blinding the crowds with its awesome wonder. She became mesmerised by it; the stone the length of her hand, but she knew not to touch it-- not at that very moment. 

But soon.

She stared at it, floating stationary in the air, her small mouth hung agape at it. She could feel energy of her own adorning such a green crystal, unbeknownst to her, the jewel created a beacon of light shedding flecks of green against her already beaming orbs, unintentionally making them shine with further fervour. 

Her palm hovered over it, her body drew closer and closer, until the cauldron was the only obstacle that prevented her front standing right next to it. Her index, timid and slightly trembling from use of chakra, touched the surface of the jewel. She hadn’t expected anything, it’s rigid layers crumpled, yet the centre smooth, its opaque rocky form provided something cool to touch; her brow marred slightly-- twitching at most-- as her fingers traced the vertices of the object.

From behind her, she couldn’t see the soft smile Tsunade had given her as she watched the said girl inspect her birthright. The blonde woman looked to the crowd, and giving a firm nod, they began to shatter the silence brought forth for the prior concentration needed, and rather, the palace was now filled with clamour. It sent jolts of merriment through her, and tears stung lovingly at her eyes. 

Sixteen years...sixteen years was the amount of time she had been able to keep her sheltered. Now, she would have to heavily grasp onto the mere hours she had left, feeling the girl already slipping from her fingers like an hourglass, a loose thread through a sewing needle. She’d done her part, and well, for most could see the lovely young lady Sakura had blossomed to be, but she saw it coming that it was only a matter of time before her mind would drift to higher lights, to things beyond her knowledge. With a mind like her mother’s, that wasn’t hard to gather.

So when a reception had begun, she sat herself further from view of the most part, sipping daintily on a bottle of fine sake, the rice wine tickling the inside of her throat and burning with utmost force, but she paid no heed to it. She’d done her part, the upbringing of a daughter that was not hers, but would always be regarded as one, but she felt as if she hadn’t done enough. She wanted to scourge all she could from the night, but as well as it being young, time flew quickly. Her head spun with the possible outcomes of approaching her. It was most likely that she was speaking with friends one last time, and it wouldn’t seem right to disturb her, but at the same time…

She sighed, a puff of steam emitted into the fresh cold night air, deciding her next taste of sake would be a heavy swig, the juice coating her mouth as she did so. She swallowed bitterly, her tongue clicking in hardness as she squinted to the sky. The winking stars were not so prominent this night as they had been others, but she took it as a sign for a specific pinkette to have shone the brightest out of all, and she left it at that.

She remembered a day similar to this, when she received her stone. She quickly found a strong bamboo stick to wind around it, to protect it, steady and firm, such as herself. Her mood and burdens lifted at that. Her youth had long gone and surpassed her, she knew that, but she was also the last of her time, at least, to her. There had been no need to talk of such trivial needs alike to her younger days. She combed stray tufts of her locks that tickled her face, gently tucking them back, and then in a weak attempt she tried to find locks of pink in the crowds of celebrating people.

She was so weary that she didn’t see the ravenette that slowly approached her.

::

The breath was knocked out cold from the pinkette when she observed the huge palace of foods and tables set out before them invitingly, warmly, prodding everyone to take a share.

There were tables, covered with cream linen cloths, surrounding the expected perimeter, as it was all open air, the event. And on those tables sat platters of hot, mouth watering dishes that sent strings of steam into the night air, lapping enticingly for consumers. There were oil lamps too, to keep the evening bright and warm for everyone to sit around and just talk. It was all so comforting, especially as she knew it would be the last in a while that she could sit down and let all her worries waft away with the nightly breeze, laughing and talking with the dearest people cherished in her beating heart.

She was sixteen years of age, and yet she still felt like a small child, not ready to let go of the hand of the ones she trusted most, tender and helpless. But she would not permit anyone to see her that way. She would remain sturdy until time’s end. She felt a light feathery touch on her almost bare left shoulder, heat resonating between the two. There, she turned around to meet sky blue eyes gleaming with such happiness that coaxed her to smile as much back.

“So, how’s it feel to be sixteen?”

The Yamanaka had found the two a table relatively close to the plates of food scattered around, figuring her appetite must have arisen during the ceremony. She gestured for the blonde girl to have her share, only waiting until she was satisfied with her portion and had sat down to properly converse.

“How long did I take during the ritual?”

“About twenty minutes…? I always knew these types of things would take an enormous effort in time, but what really bugged me was the old hag standing next to me. She was muttering spells this and that under her breath, and it vexed me so,” she feigned hurt, dramatically sighing herself down onto the table’s masked surface. She quickly sat back up, however, to take a bite out of an umeboshi filling of an onigiri. She shuffled the ball of rice before taking a small nibble at its peak, daintily chewing. This only retracted a light hearted snort from the rosette. She lad herself back comfortably onto the back of her chair, her arms folded neatly under her biceps, rolling her eyes playfully as she watched her friend eat.

“You might want to have one last moment with Tsunade-sama, you know. We’ve all seen how she resorts to all her problems. And it’s annoying how she becomes. I doubt an occasion like this would not leave her like this. The effect you have on her is entertaining,” Sakura gasped as she saw the Yamanaka chug a quick shot sake, roughly setting the small glass down and then exhaling heavily, a drunken smile on her face.

“Pig! You’re not even of age yet! What if someone catches you?!”

“To hell with it, I won’t get as bad as that, and I’ll be sensible. Don’t start acting like Okaa-san just because you’re now a full fledged witch, Forehead. You’ll never hear the end of it from me,” She gave a sly grin.

The Haruno herself only nibbled on such light delicacies, such as a couple steaming takoyaki stringed with brown glaze, mayonnaise, aonori and flickery bonito flakes. It took up some of her appetite before having a small bowl of anmitsu, which had set her straight for the night. She did not drink, even though she was now technically permitted to do so, she wanted no distractions towards her journey out of the woods; she made her mind to stay sensible. Had it been anything else, she would’ve taken a responsible sip, perhaps under the supervision of her mentor.

Speaking of the said woman, she knew she wouldn’t be able to withdraw from the myriad of congratulations she was to receive from everyone, so she deduced that she would not cross paths with the aforementioned Senju. Bitter, she pondered, but it wasn’t impossible for her not to meet before her departure. She highly doubted the woman would miss it, anyway. So she bypassed everyone with suave and ease, greeting them patiently, waiting for the daylight to rise, for the sun to come once again, and then, then, she would finally reach the dreams she had barely been grasping just a few months ago.

::

“You’re going to miss her, Tsunade-sama. I think we all will.”

Shizune had taken her seat besides the woman at her own accord, cautious not to stir up a riot with the Senju-- she knew enough that the former was beginning to feel light-headed. She peeked through her curtain of dark locks to see her expression.

“Shizune.”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“You remember what happened all those years ago…” She concluded the woman was beginning to stir with fatigue, her lids grew heavy and her hold on the now empty bottle began to fall loose, not so much as to drop it, but slightly softer than before. And plus, she would never disclose information, perhaps this time phrased as a question, out in the open. This alike.

So, Shizune took it rhetorically.

“Why don’t you retire for today, Tsunade-sama? You’ve done so much to prepare for this day…” Her head hung low as the blonde turned to look at her. She couldn’t decipher her expression, much less know that she was staring at her at all, for the short haired woman was searching the pebbles and soiled ground, not meeting her syrupy brown eyes. When she heard a light snore however, the Kato fought the urge to burst out in a fit of laughter, holding the Senju’s weight against her as she sluggishly dragged the both of them towards Tsunade’s abode.

It gave her both a sense of relief and alighting hope that she could let her guard down so easily; the last few months, no, years, had deprived her enough of her sleep and happiness. The only joy was Sakura, but now that she would entirely leave for God knows how long, she doubted the elder woman would be able to comfortably rest without her terrors frequenting her mind. She softened her gaze at the tipsy blonde, content with the fact that at least now, she could be snug in her own skin, if not for a little while.

::

The festive occasion was buried well into the night, further prolonging the early hours of the morning. Which decreed Sakura sleepless when she was quickly checking the supplies she had prepared for her unknown trip. She dressed lightly, unlike a few hours prior when her hips sagged petticoats and her bodice fit with many layers of cotton. Her hair was fully plaited high up, her baby strands hanging loose, stretching out statically, but would not be seen either way as she masked from the hairline and down to the nape of her neck, a light veil, a wimple, that prevented any persons from seeing the concealed pink within. Convenient, and subtly neat, she knew, and she would not grab attention from anyone who lay dully as a stranger to her.

Signo!

Her eyes caught her heap of scrolls sitting idly, cornering the room and gathering dust. She had sealed within them some of her more heavy luggage, so she found it simple to place them in light sheets of tattered paper for now. She placed them into her sac, a brown, old, worn out bag that yet still carried a lot and had mustered so much throughout its time. Apparently, its previous owner had been her mother. She wanted to still keep a piece of her with the pinkette, aside from her notes scripted in her recounts and a small, delicate painting of her.

She leisurely closed the door behind her, fretful that she would cause enough noise to wake the whole coven up. Thankfully, she didn’t, and set off towards the edge of the forest. She was nearing the barrier when she saw two figures up ahead, seemingly awaiting her arrival.

“Ino; Shishou…” 

She trailed off, her brows shaking with utmost emotion she could not contain. She smiled, but her bittersweet beam meant nothing short of a goodbye. It was fruitless if they were to stop her now-- she had made up her mind on what she was going to do, and she’s carrying it out now. But she knew better: they were wanting their farewells to be the absolute last and most meaningful to her, something she would regard in her memory when travelling vast plains, when seeing the moon arise, and then fall.

“Forehead!”

She nodded towards the younger blonde, not long before the latter collapsed her whole figure on the Haruno, pulling her into a bone crushing hug as she let her tears free, dampening the rosette’s shoulder with her salty droplets.

Sakura chuckled sadly, “I’ll miss you too, Pig.”

“Don’t die, dammit. Take good care of yourself, eat well, and just-- just, come back someday. I don’t think I’ll survive forever without you.”

She rubbed circles on the Yamanka’s back to solemnly comfort her. She nodded, making sure of that fact.

“Don’t worry; I’ll visit once in a while.”

“You better.”

That wasn’t from the blonde she was currently in contact, rather, it was the other blonde, the elder in their place, her arms weakly crossed, slightly smiling at her own form. She could make out the heavy bags that drowned her mentor’s lids. It brought a sad feeling to swell up in her chest.

“Don’t push yourself too much, Tsunade-sama. I know first-hand how much you love to do that.”

She nodded firmly, then, taking her small palm into hers, she closed her eyes, gripping tighter, as if memorising each and every inch of her skin. When she opened her eyes, a fresher, more youthful smile appeared on her face.

“As to you, my dear.”

::

Sakura had used her chakra fueled from her emerald to set off, waving one final goodbye to the place she would forever know as her childhood, her home. She was yet to craft a rod to help with the weight of her brilliant stone, but for now, she would worry about what lay ahead of her. It was hours of walking to completely free herself of the woodland, but she knew she could make it. Her limits were definitely more stronger than a couple hours of walking.

Each step further and further away led her feeling such exhilaration, that when she approached a sea of creamy mist, she felt her heart bursting with frisson of not knowing what was there. She steadily walked through it, the grey fog whispering around her. She was not afraid, as she strode further until she could clearly see the break of the sun’s beaming rays,

And a bustling village full of humans lying ahead.

------------------

Hi again! I’m back with another chapter. How was it? Please leave some sort of feedback for me as I would love to take some constructive criticism from my readers. I’ve been so on and off with this chapter, but I’m decently satisfied with what I’ve done in it.

Thank you, as always, for proof-reading, Julia.

Until next time, goodbye!

-Writer

[nah-she-didnt]

Spirits And Bones Chapter 2: New Wounds

Okay, so I am definitely learning on the job here. This story is going to require a lot more world-building than I'm used to, so please be patient with me! Thank you all for your kind reviews so far, and enjoy chapter 2!

Read on AO3!

--

It soon became clear that Lily was a hopeless cook. She never had to cook for herself at her father’s house. Even after he had lost his money they still had at least one servant to cook for the family. Plus, her mother certainly never taught her how to fry an egg or bake bread. She never wasted her time on such domestic duties. So, after Lily burned yet another roast in the kitchen’s large iron oven, Severus decided to procure a maid.

She came to them during Lily’s first week at the new house. Lily recognized the small girl from the day of her engagement at Tobias Snape’s house. She introduced herself as Mary Macdonald, a local girl from the village down the road.

Severus also hired a local boy as a farmhand for the property’s sprawling fields. His name was Remus, and to Lily’s dismay, he slept in the barn loft a hundred paces from the house.

“Surely he’ll freeze out there,” she had pleaded with Severus when the boy came to work for them.

Severus smirked. “Nonsense. He’s just a poor boy from the village, I should think he’d be used to such conditions. Won’t you, boy?”

Remus nodded curtly, not meeting Severus’ eyes. Lily surveyed the boy curiously. He looked lean but strong, with sandy brown hair and a large scar that sliced his right cheek She wondered how a poor farm boy had come to have such a prominent mark.

“Anyway,” Severus continued, turning back to Lily, “I hired him in part to guard my affairs when I am away from my home, but I do not think it would be proper for him to sleep here in the same house as my wife. Although look at him, it’s not as if he’s much of a threat.” He smirked again. His dull teeth looked yellow against his pale skin. “You don’t seem like much of a ladies’ man, boy.”

Remus shook his head once. Lily frowned. “I don’t think there’s any need for talk like that.”

Severus jerked his head around to face her, surprise and anger etched into his face. “I don’t believe my talk is any of your concern, wife.”

Lily said nothing but did not break Severus’ gaze. He often spoke to her like this, reminding her of her place as his wife, not his partner. But she had not yet found Severus to be a cruel man. He even showed her a few kindnesses. One evening he even brought her a new cloak from his father’s inventory. The cloak was fine quality and kept the heat from her body close to her skin as she traipsed through the snowy forest.

However, Severus was also sullen and mirthless. He rarely laughed, and when he did it was a humorless sound. He smirked when she did not know the name of some lord he had visited that day for work or sneered when he heard that a rival trader had died of old age.

Fortunately, Lily did not have to speak with her husband often. She spent her days exploring the land, weaving in between the trees and tracing paths along the stream that ran through the forest. Soon she was able to map the land in her head. She knew what short cuts would get her to the forest the quickest and that the stream flowed in the opposite direction of her house.

Severus still spent most of his days at his father’s house learning his trade and Lily was free to roam the forest just as she had the day she found the hawthorn.

Weeks had passed and she had not been able to find the tree again. She tried to retrace the magic in the earth but the ground grew frozen and dead once more. When she removed her shoes and placed her feet upon the snow it was bitterly cold and burned the soft skin under her toes. Still, she walked for as long as she could stand barefoot, hoping to feel the snow grow warm beneath her once more.

One day, as she walked through the forest barefoot, she cut her foot open on a large jagged rock. “Shit,” she muttered and shuffled across the path to a tree stump. There she sat and examined the damage.

The cut was long, but not deep. A thin trail of blood snaked down her heel and dropped into tiny pinpricks of crimson against the snow. Nothing she couldn’t manage.

Lily closed her eyes, trying to block out all sound, thoughts, or emotions surrounding her. When she felt her mind clear and her body vibrate with energy, she pressed her palm against the bloody cut. She held her hand there for a few moments, then pulled away to examine her work. The skin began to knit itself back together slowly. Soon there was no sign of the cut at all.

She glanced around quickly but saw no one. The woods were always deserted, but she still felt better knowing for sure that no one had seen her heal. The villagers did not trust magic, and she was sure that her husband would be livid if he witnessed what she had just done.

Lily sighed and began to lace her feet back into her boots. She knew that she must begin her long walk back to the house. It was nearly dark, and Severus often grew suspicious when she returned late. She stood up and smoothed her long cloak, disappointed that she had been unable to locate the hawthorn yet again.

The walk back to the house was slow work. She often had to stop and wrestle her cloak back from the thistles that grew between the large oak trees. The sun began to dip below the horizon just as she reached the edge of the woods. She stood panting for a moment, pulling a twig from her long braid, and gazed towards the cottage. She saw smoke rising from the chimney and silently thanked Mary for the warm fire that she must have built. Suddenly, Lily heard rustling leaves behind her and whirled around.

The stag stood across a clearing from her and was partially obscured behind a thick tree trunk. His eyes always startled her a bit. They were huge, deep brown, and vaguely familiar.

Lily let out a deep breath and fixed the stag with a bemused expression. “You again,” she called out to him across the clearing, “I’m never quite able to get rid of you, am I?”

The stag cocked his head to the side in response. She often found herself wondering if the animal could understand her speech. This was the fourth time she had run into the beast in the forest. The second time she had still been afraid of his powerful form and sharp antlers. The third time she had stroked the soft fur on his face once more. This time, she was not afraid in the slightest. If the stag wanted to hurt her he would have done so already.

--

The next afternoon found Lily sitting by the fireside attempting to embroider a scrap of fabric. She’d picked up this new hobby out of sheer boredom. Outside the snow fell so thickly that she couldn’t quite bring herself to leave the comfort of the fireside to explore the woods today. She paused her needle and examined her work so far. Her first attempt at art was a bright yellow daisy, except it looked more like a bright yellow worm.

Lily threw down the embroidery hoop and stretched, frustrated at how cooped up she felt. As she stretched she glanced out the window. A hooded figure walked down the lane in front of the house. She wore thick woolen mittens and carried a basket of what looked like holly branches.

At that moment, Mary entered the sitting room. She shuffled over to the fire and placed another log on top of the dying flames.

“Mary, I wish you would let me do that,” Lily called to her, “I’m perfectly capable.”

Mary smiled sweetly at her. “Master Severus would not like it, ma’am. I’m to make sure you are well taken care of while he’s away.”

Lily gestured around the room. “Look at me. I’m warm, I’m fed, I’m content. I’d say your job is done.”

Mary looked as if she didn’t know what to say to that. Lily sighed. She hadn’t quite been able to break through Mary’s sweet exterior to see who lay beneath, but perhaps she would with time.

“Mary,” she called before the girl could leave the room, “do you see that woman outside?”

Mary glanced out the window. She blanched when her gaze fell upon the old woman.

“Oh, you’d best keep your distance, ma’am. ‘Tis a witch.”

“A witch?” Lily glanced back at the woman. The woman looked perfectly ordinary. “What makes you say she is a witch?”

Mary shrugged. “It’s known in the village, ma’am. She gathers herbs and plants in the forest and uses them to curse all who cross her.”

Lily laughed. “Herbs and plants aren’t dangerous, they’re useful. Perhaps this woman uses her concoctions to help people.”

This was the wrong thing to say. Mary sniffed and smoothed out her skirts. “Is that all, ma’am?”

“Yes,” Lily smiled sadly, “of course. Thank you, Mary. You may take for the rest of the afternoon for yourself.” Mary curtsied, looking confused, and backed out of the room.

Lily eyed her needlework. Her craftsmanship was pathetic, but there was nothing else to do, so she resumed her work. An hour later her fingertips were red raw and covered in small spots of blood where she had pricked herself.

The kitchen door, visible to Lily from her spot in the sitting room, banged open, letting in a thick cloud of snowflakes. Remus did his best to stamp his boots on the landing before trudging into the house, but he still tracked large snowy footprints across the floor. Another man carrying firewood trailed behind. He had shoulder-length black hair that was flecked with snow and he wore a coat made of shaggy, black animal fur. He was also laughing.

“Blimey,” he chuckled, “that master of yours, he’s a riot. Did you see him trip over that snowbank out back? What a tosser.”

Remus cleared his throat loudly. “This is my mistress, Lady Lily. M’lady, please excuse the interruption. My master hired these men for labor and told us to replenish your firewood.”

“Thank you, Remus, but you are interrupting nothing.” Lily faced the newcomer, “welcome, sir. What is your name?”

The man grinned broadly. He was quite handsome. “Sirius, m’lady. I’m sorry that I spoke freely about your husband. He is a… fine man.”

Lily hid her smile. “I think you’ll find that you may speak freely in front of me, Sirius. Please, have a seat, warm yourself.”

Sirius’ face broke into a wide smile. “Much obliged,” he said, collapsing onto the couch across from Lily and put his feet up on the sitting-room table. Remus paled.

“My lady,” he said, his voice pleading, “I do not think Master Severus would approve-”

“Nonsense,” Lily smiled, “he said himself that I have run of the house while he is gone. Besides, I’ve been bored all day, and a new face is a rare treat. Please, Remus, sit if you wish.”

Remus looked unsure. He compromised by standing awkwardly between Sirius and Lily, his hands outstretched to warm in the fire’s glow.

“So, Sirius,” Lily turned to face her guest, “tell me about yourself. Do you live in the village?”

Sirius laughed. “No, lady, I do not. I live in the forest.”

“The forest?” she frowned slightly. She’d never seen another soul in the forest during her many daytime walks.

“Yes, I live there with my brother. We often hunt and forage for food, but some necessities require common money, so we take odd jobs to make ends meet. That is how I came to your house today. I was just telling Ja-”

The door banged open once more. Severus’ gaze fell upon the scene, Remus warming himself by the fire and Sirius sitting on the couch with his feet up. Anger sparked in his face.

“Black,” he hissed dangerously, “what do you think you are doing?”

Sirius quickly swung his feet off the table and to the floor. “Apologies, Severus, your wife invited me to sit with her.”

Severus’ eyes narrowed. “That’s ‘Master Severus,’ boy. Know your place. How dare you sit in my home in your filthy pelts, how dare you speak to my wife.”

“Severus,” Lily said angrily, “I hardly think that’s neces-”

“Quiet,” Severus snapped at her. Lily opened her mouth to retaliate but instead gasped.

Another man entered the house behind her husband. He had untidy black hair, dark skin, and deep brown eyes. It was his eyes that startled her. She was sure she’d seen them before.

Lily stared at the new man, and the man stared back at her nervously. “Erm,” he stuttered, blinking rapidly, “Hello, I’m James, er, m’lady.”

Lily realized too late that she was staring at James. Severus’ eyes had grown dark with malice as he watched his wife. He glanced between Lily and the new man, recognition dawning in his face. Then, he spun around to face Sirius again.

“You,” he spat, “get out of my house. You and your brother have exactly one minute to get as far away from this property as possible, is that clear? There will be no payment for you, either of you, today.”

Sirius stood from the couch. He was shorter than Severus by a few inches, but his gaze was still threatening enough to make her husband tremble slightly. “Look mate, fire us if you want, but at least pay us for our work as an honest man would.”

Severus took a step back from Sirius and pointed toward the door. “Go. Take him,” Severus pointed at the man with the deep brown eyes, “with you. Never darken my doorstep again if you know what’s good for you.”

Sirius chuckled mirthlessly. “Is that a threat, ‘my lord’?”

“Sirius,” James crossed the room and grabbed Sirius by the upper arm, “come on, it’s not worth it.”

“I disagree,” Sirius smirked Severus.

“Sirius,” James said, his voice low and dangerous, “now.”

Sirius relented and made to leave with James. Then, as though he suddenly changed his mind, he turned back and spat on the floor at Severus’ feet. “We will remember this.”

Severus looked ashen. He watched the men leave, his chest heaving as though he had run a long distance. Sirius walked out the door but James looked back once, smiled at Lily, then followed his brother out into the winter storm.

Severus strode across the room and grabbed Lily by the arm. “Do you know that man?”

Lily struggled but his grip tightened vice-like on her elbow. “No, Severus, I swear I do not!”

“Do not lie to me!” he roared, eyes wild with rage, “You’ve seen him before, I know it. Does he come here when I am away?”

“No!” Lily yanked her arm out of his grip, “I’ve never seen that man in my life. Control yourself.”

Severus looked livid. He raised his hand as if to strike. Lily closed her eyes and raised her arms to cover herself.

Suddenly, a burst of energy seemed to shoot from her fingertips. Lily startled and dropped her arms as Severus cried out in pain. A long scratch had appeared along the hand he had raised against her. She stared at the new wound, shocked. Surely she could not have caused the cut, could she?

He looked at her wildly. “What did you do to me, woman?” He hissed, clutching his bleeding hand.

“N-nothing,” she stammered, still flexing her fingers where the energy had been a minute before, “it must have happened before, perhaps when you carried the firewood.”

Severus stood still, breathing heavily. His eyes whipped wildly from Lily to Remus, to the back door, then back to Lily. After a moment of silence, he seemed to calm down. He spun on his heel and stormed to the kitchen.

“Come,” he barked over his shoulder, “help me bandage this hand.”

Lily’s hand curled into a fist behind her back. “I’m sorry, my lord,” she called after him, “you should ask Mary. I’m afraid I have no skills for healing.”

He strode out of the room without another word. Remus, who still stood next to the fireplace, leapt out of Severus’ warpath. He gaped at Lily.

“What did you just do?” he whispered. Lily unclenched her fist and rubbed her eyes.

“Nothing he didn’t deserve. But Remus,” she fixed him with an intense gaze, “you must never tell. Anyone. Please, Remus.”

Remus placed his hand over his heart. “You have my word, lady.”

She laughed weakly and lowered herself back into her seat next to the fire. “Call me Lily, please.”

He smiled slightly. “We’ll see about that.” Then he turned from the room and left her alone.

Lily sank further into the chair’s cushions. Her thoughts were still fixed on that man, James. She was sure she knew him, sure she had spoken to him before. His eyes were as familiar to her as if she had stared into them all her life.

[nadiaportia]

Life Lessons - A Past Tale

Summary: On a day meant for relaxation, a young magician-in-training finds herself in the middle of an explosive confrontation.

Starring the Rubalacaba family; Ximena, Heloisa, Cibela, Esmé and Marisol

Word count: ~4.6k

Content warning for violence (nothing too graphic) and a messed up family dynamic.

It was a warm midsummer’s day, the sun stood high in the sky and my lessons had been finished an hour earlier. Mistress Julia had congratulated me on my good work and progress and allowed to me go enjoy myself outside for the rest of the day while she was going to the docks. Her wife had been travelling to Karnassos to see her family and they haven’t seen each other for several weeks.

As it was a habit, I decided to go the aviary to relax after my lessons. The grounds were vast, in my own opinion a little too vast, so there were always places to hide but the aviary had something about it - despite the fact that I was barely on my own there. It was also my sister’s Heloisa’s prefered location; she could spend hours in there taking care and marvelling at its residents. When we were both younger, she would teach the goldfinches to sing along to her whistling and proudly showed them to the servants and our father. The aviary was her dominion, especially since our older sister couldn’t be less interested in birds and spent the time she was on the grounds training or studying. 

The aviary was a large cage made of gilded steel with vegetation and a small river flowing through it, in size bigger than the main hall in the manor, where its residents had free reign to live in. Upon entering, I heard giggling and following the path deeper into the small forest, I saw my older sister. She sat on the ground, stroking a golden pheasant on her lap while a hummingbird flew about her face. It was currently holding one of her black curls in its beak as if to pull her up from her comfortable position.

“No, please, Xquic!”, she laughed and stopped stroking the pheasant to gently let the hummingbird sit on her index finger.

“Dorian deserves his caresses too, you know I don’t play favorites.”

She had given every single bird in the aviary a name and treated each of them like individuals. I liked all of them just fine enough but to Heloisa they were as much as her friends like the noble girls she went to parties with in secret. When she saw me, a grin spread across her face. 

“Welcome to freedom! I've been here for two hours now, Livia decided to give it a rest because even she didn't have the spirits to talk for too long about this guy's manifest. I mean, reading about revolting merchants can only be so interesting, especially when you already know they were beaten after the armies of Karnassos and Bizatena came to the Zaan's aid!” 

She sighed dramatically and proceeded to make kissing noises at Xquic. I sat next to my sister. The grass was warm and soft, and Dorian raised his head to look at me. I reached out and caressed the top of his crown. 

“Well, I spent three hours trying to make portals large enough for a human to fit through, but it takes a lot of concentration. When Julia does it, it looks so easy.” 

“Your magic stuff is vastly more interesting than politicking and learning how to lie.”

“I don't get your complaints - Tía Esmé has you on track to leave the junior court meetings and go full game. Cibela attended her first meeting last year.”

My sister's smile turned into a sneer. Even though we all enjoyed the luxury of fundamental education - history, philosophy, various languages such as Bizanti, Zadithian and Prakran, literature, art, music, the sciences and common etiquette proper for a noble of Cartagenth - each of us was also given tutelage in a special field in order to prepare us for our future at the Zaan's court. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”, she said and shrugged, “and still, making portals, lifting objects and talking with spirits is pretty wicked and exciting.” I sighed. It didn't matter if she was the best junior politician and won several play-debates against seasoned courtiers during dinners, she would always want the talents others possessed. But I wasn't in the spirits to argue with her, not today. 

“Magic is a lot more complicated than you think, and from what Tía Esme says it might take even years before I am as good as Julia - and I don't wanna be just good enough to become a tutor.”

“By the mother, imagine that! No, you will be the greatest magician of all times, they will build statues for and tell stories of you, not only here but everywhere! Crystalleans in the North, bandits in the South, Firenti in the East and Calpacians all over will know the name Ximena de Rubalcaba!” 

I laughed and shook my head.

“If you say so, it will be true one day.”

“Of course it will.” Heloisa reassured me and gently shooed her avian companions away from us. “I talked to Tía Esmé a couple of days ago, according to her it could very well be that I were to start my travels very soon. If you asked me nicely and with a bow on top, I could consider namedropping you to the rulers of far away and powerful countries…”

“How's that going to go down? 'Oh, Queen of Prakra, say, if you happen to be looking for a magician, I might just know the right person - my fifteen year old sister!'”

“No, of course not, you idiot. One of the essences of politics is: less is often more.”

“Ah, yes, less was definitely more on the party thrown by the son of the Karnasso ambassador. Or when Shayera, Filomena and you went to a 'health resort'. Or-” 

“Okay, I get it. Phew, it's not my fault you are boring and never want to join in on the fun.” 

“Whatever. At least I won't die of boredom in cabinet rooms or in court sessions when I'm a grown-up.” 

Heloisa scoffed loudly and stood up. “Fine! And you'll never be a capable magician, in the meantime I'll be dining with the influential sovereigns of the world. Who knows, maybe I'll become the next Zaan before you manage to cast a portal!”

I looked lazily at her, how she stood over me, her hands on her hips, the sun behind her head and casting dark curly hair into a warm light. 

“Hm.” I closed my eyes and smiled as I heard her walk off and out of the aviary, fuming while murmering curses under her breath.

And yet she was also my best friend even though we were nothing alike. The nightly carousing my sister loved so much was nothing I could ever be interested in, apart from the fact that she was four years older and thus allowed to do it, but rule-breaking and rebellion without a cause in general never had the same appeal to me. It wasn't as if I hated being in company but it wasn't something I craved like a moth needed the lantern's light, and I certainly didn't have the same social charisma as her, with a face known and beloved by all and the ability to make everyone feel special in her company. I liked being on my own, listening to my own thoughts or doing things on my own such as reading, practicing on Cibela's piano whenever she wasn't on the estate (her visits were becoming rarer anyway), stealing into the kitchen to watch the servants prepare our food (the first time I had done that, they thought Madre had send me to make sure they did a good job), making sketches of the paintings in the galleries and many other things lonely noble children seemed to do, as I had been told by my cousin Agustín. The only son of Tía Esmé was a diplomat on track to becoming an ambassador and during his visits, he would stay on the family estate. Despite him and Cibela being the closest in age, they were like cats and dogs to each other, with him having thrown around the words “cruel” and “heartless” while Cibela had complained to Madre about him being a pathetic excuse of a politician and even a traitor to Cartagenth. So he spent most of his visits with Heloisa and me, even though he always told me I was his favorite - and judging by the sharp remarks he made about Heloisa, even to her own face, there was no doubt it was true. It was a nice feeling to be someone’s preferred company even though I felt as if favoritism seemed to be a family tradition, and not a good one. 

I sighed, opened my eyes again and was immediately almost blinded by the sun. The goldfinches were singing somewhere in the trees and something was chirping softly in the scrubs. A thought crept into my mind and I grinned. I sat up, leaned towards the bush and let out a whistle. It rustled and a black manakin made its way to me. 

“Hello, you cutie.” I said, and wiggled my finger at it. “Wanna help me in an experiment?”

I hoped this would work. We would throw marbles throw the portals to see whether they fulfilled their purpose but never tried it with a living organism, so if it didn't work…

The manakin tilted his head and looked at me. I sighed. 

“Right, you don't understand human speech.” I reached out and softly stroked his chest. “But you're not flying away, so I'll take that as a yes.” He nibbled at my finger. “I'll collect some worms for you, I don't have a problem with digging in the ground unlike someone else.”

A chirp, whether he actually understood a word was another matter.

I closed my eyes and let out a breath. I tuned out the noises all around me and concentrated on the manakin, where it was and on creating a gateway to bring it to another location - not very far, just a few meters away from me. A noise that wasn't quite a noise caught my attention and upon opening my eyes, I saw the bird looking curiously at a small doorway, big enough for him to comfortably fit through, and another one near a tree trunk.

“That's for you. Please…?” 

The manakin looked at me as if he himself was unsure of this.

“Go ahead, nothing will happen.” I said with hopefully enough conviction in my voice. 

It seemed to have hit the mark because he jumped through it - and reappeared a few meters away from me. 

“Yes!”, I screamed and pumped a fist in the air and startling the manakin who jumped about a foot in the air.

Time flew by as I made portals, some bigger than others, for my new friend to walk or fly through, and he strangely seemed to find as much joy as this as me. 

I was in the middle of making another one when I heard footsteps. To my surprise, it was Heloisa, with her face dark like a beetroot and her mouth twisted into a snarl.

“What happened?” I asked worried, hurrying over to her but instead of an answer she pushed me away. Her eyes were rimmed red and there was a glint of fire in copper brown that made me take a step back. 

“What do you think you're going to do with this?”

“Get out of my way!”, was the snappy answer I received as she made her way over to a tree, reached into a hole in the trunk and pulled something out. A shining steel blade, one that I was sure I had seen many many times.

“By the Devil, is that one of the Nopali swords in the ancestral gallery?” I blurted out and followed Heloisa as she stomped out of the aviary. When I got no verbal response, I grabbed her arm and made her face me. 

Her lips switched and she scrunched her nose. 

“You'll see soon enough what I'll do to her.” Wrenching loose of my grip, she whirled around and continued her way, and it hit me like a falling anvil to know where she was going. The aviary wasn't far from the estate building itself so it didn't take too long before we reached the first inner court which also functioned as training grounds for the guards. In the center, on the sand ground, a young woman in light armor with one arm on her back and the other wielding a blunt training sword was parrying the blow of a figure also clad in light armor and with a double-handed sword. She dodged the next blow, made a sidestep and used the momentum to hit her opponent in the side with the swords pommel. The opponent clutched their side and wheeled around to meet her blow, metal hitting metal in an ugly noise.

“Hey! Cibela!” Neither of the figures acknowledged us but merely continued their melee.

“Don't tell me you want do what I think you want to do.” I sighed and held Heloisa's arm. 

“Don't tell me what to do,”, she hissed and shoved me away, “and don't even dare to tell Mother. Cibela!”

“Don't be stupid and put down the sword, please! You'll hurt each other.”

Fury was written all over her face when she said: “That's exactly what I want to do. I've had enough of her thinking she is better than me just for being allowed to train as a warrior!”

“Then challenge her to chess or something, not a swordfight.”

Heloisa let out a mocking laugh. “Of course you'd say that, words befitting of a cowardly magician.” My cheeks stung at her words as if I had been slapped in the face. “You wouldn't understand. You don't have any fighting spirit, so all you are good for is rolling over and playing dead.”

“I just know that fighting battles I can't win doesn't do any good.”

The noise of a body hitting the floor brought our attention back to the fighters and we saw how the woman took the hand of her opponent to be helped off the ground. Dark curls had escaped her braid during the fight and made her look distinctively messy, beads of sweat glittered on her forehead and her neck and face were flushed. 

“May the Devil damn you, stop distracting me!”, she yelled at us and pushed the loose strands of her out of her face. Dark eyes fixated us angrily and Heloisa laughed yet again. 

“Oh, is it that easy? I'm starting to believe you are not good a fighter as you make everyone believe. How do you even survive on those battlefields you claim you're so successful on?”

Cibela's face flushed even darker than it did from the exhaustion and she let out an angry snarl. “A mercenary is easy work compared to you, sister. Now go away, be a nuisance elsewhere.”

“No, I won't!” Heloisa screamed and held out the sword in front of her. The swordsman dropped their sword in shock and made a motion to walk over to us.

“Stay your hand, Octavio, or I'll have you fired and sent to live with the rats in the gutter.”

“Lady Heloisa, please calm down. The sword you're holding is sharp.”

Cibela let out a laugh. “Of course it is. Stop this nonsense before you hurt yourself, you're not worth a fight.”

I couldn't stop her from stomping at Cibela and I threw myself between the two of them, holding my hands out. “Will you two stop provoking each other?” I knew better than to ask what exactly caused this dispute to begin; I wouldn't get an answer anyway. Heloisa and Cibela constantly butted heads over even the smallest issues, and it wasn't helped by the fact that they were both too eager to find reasons to get into arguments. 

Cibela's lip curled in a sneer. “Even Ximena is more of a realist than you. She knows I'd gut you like a fish if this were an actual fight. You are no fighter; all you can do is talk a lot and charm people into doing what you want them to - and that is something everyone can do, it takes no real talent. You're just as stupid and useless as those birds you love so much - pretty to look at and have around with their feathers and songs but shallow and of no use whatsoever.”

Heloisa roared in anger, lifted the sword and ran at our sister. I jumped out of the way, and saw in shock how Cibela easily dodged the blow and took a few steps back.

“I won't fight you, you don't even know how to! It's a waste of my time and an easy kill.”

Frantically I turned to Octavio. “Get whoever, otherwise they'll kill each other for real!”, I yelled and as Cibela's coach ran off, I stood up and thought about what to do. Damn me for not knowing how to make protective shields! 

“Get a real sword and let's find out, and do you think me so stupid to fight you without knowing how to?”

“Yes, I do.”

The next hit on the tourney sword left a dent in it, and Heloisa let out a triumphant laugh. “Don't bother with holding back, or is that all you can do? I have long suspected all you did on those battlefields was have others do your dirty work, seems I was right after all!”

A kick to the stomach silenced Heloisa and sent her tumbling back. Cibela scoffed and walked back to the assembly of swords to train with and took out a silver shortsword. “Yield now, sister. Scars don't suit you and we'd never hear the end of it.”

“I have been watching you train with Octavio and the others, do you really think I never learned even a bit? Or that I might have had someone who helped me from time to time?” The grin slipped from her face as Cibela approached her with sure steps, sword in hands and swung at her. Heloisa ducked and scrambled away from our sister's reach, who looked merely amused. “I think you're in way over your head. But I will give you a lesson you will not forget ever, that you may know your place and to stay in it.”

A quick movement and Cibela took off, sword pulled back to strike at Heloisa, who stood her ground with a determined look on her face. But the impact of Cibela, who was at least a head taller and had a more muscular frame, was enough to send her on her back onto the ground. “Your battles are in court and with words, not blades.”

I screamed in terror as Cibela threw back her arm, to swing it at Heloisa's face-

I acted on instinct, for fear for my sister's life. Light bubbled in my hands and I aimed it at the two. Cibela groaned at the blinding light and covered her face as she stumbled back as Heloisa gave a hard kick at her ankle and rolled out from under her.

“You're a true magician, Ximena,”, Cibela spat at me, her face scrunched up in anger as she stood up, “too much of a coward to get involved directly but always ready to help with dirty tricks. You two are a disgrace to our family name.” Then she spun around to catch Heloisa's wrist, I hadn't even noticed her getting up again and trying to hit Cibela in the back with the pommel. 

“Especially you.”

Her grip was so hard that it made Heloisa scream in pain, she dropped the sword and let it fall into the dust between them. Cibela let her fall back, and as if through fog I saw the blade in her other hand find its way onto Heloisa's torso, connecting with it at the shoulder blade and making its way to the hipbone. Someone's shrill scream rang in my ears and only when I covered my mouth I realized it had been me. But I couldn't move, I was rooted to the spot as I watched my sisters, one standing with the tip of her blade bloodied over the other, lying on the group, gasping like a fish out of water.

Someone else's scream brought me back to reality and I spun around to see our mother and our aunt make their way to us, Octavio hot on their heels. 

“Oh my goodness!” Madre threw her hands to her face as she saw Heloisa in the dust. Her flowing purple gown fluttered behind her as she ran to them, while Tía Esmé approached me and grabbed me by the shoulders with urgency. “Marilena, what happened? Be quick about it.”

I stumbled upon my words various times and only when she dabbed my face with her cape, I noticed tears were streaming down my face. “He-Heloisa challenged Cibela to a-a fight. I didn't think they'd ac-actually-”

“What's done is done. With me, now.” Her hand wrapped around my wrist like a vice as she pulled me along. “Julia taught you the basics of healing, now's time to make use of them.” 

I gaped at Tía Esmé but the steely look in her eyes made me swallow my doubts. 

“Are you happy now? Isn't that what you wanted?” Cibela's voice was cold as ice, no hint of regret upon what she did. 

“Cibela, what have you done?” Mother cried as she cradled Heloisa, tears were freely running down her face and leaving dark traces of her make-up. My sister was looking at the cut in her chest as if she couldn't believe what just happened. The blood was beginning to stain the burgundy fabric black as it seeped out. She raised a hand to touch it and screamed at the sight of her own blood on it.

“I gave my dearly beloved sister what she was so desperately chasing; someone who would put her back in her place and teach her some respect.”

I stared at Cibela and felt my throat tighten at the venom in her words. For a brief moment, nothing more than a split second, I considered picking up the sword on the ground and hitting her with it, but the thought of it frightened me as soon as I finished it. 

The vice around my wrist disappeared and Tía Esmé closed in on Cibela, who held up her chin in defiance. “Did you stop to think about turning down the duel and reason with her without spitting poison? Is this how an officer of the Grand Army of Cartagenth behaves, or this is more akin to a lawless bandit?”

Cibela took a step forward, her face mere inches away from Tía Esmé. “She was the one who insisted on a duel, she can be lucky I decided to show mercy even if I was in the full right to kill her and I wouldn't have shed a tear if I had done so.”

The silence behind that statement lasted both nothing and an eternity, and the ensuing sound of the back of Esmé's hand hitting Cibela's face full force seemed deafening. Mother screamed and instantly let go of Heloisa to help her eldest of the dust, leaving me to catch her before she hit the ground.

“You ungrateful little parasite.” Esmé sneered as Cibela held the side of her face where she had been hit, “have you learnt nothing? Family is the only thing that matters. Without us, you’re a fucking nobody. Get out of my sight.”

Cibela scrambled onto her feet, a trail of blood running down her nose and furious tears building in her eyes. Without a further word she whirled around and left the training grounds, with Madre running after her and saying words made unintelligible by her sobs.

“Octavio, get a doctor. Have them bring something for transport.” The coach bowed quickly with a murmured “Yes, General.” and ran back into the building.

I took a deep breath as I laid my hands on Heloisa's chest. She let out a scream and squeezed her eyes shut. Esmé knelt next to us and regarded the wound with an expert's eye.

“Try to keep her from bleeding out, from what I see the wound is not deep enough to make lethal damage but you can never know. I've seen soldiers bleed to death from a lot less and survive a lot worse.”

She reached out and took Heloisa's hand, gently stroking the back of it with her thumb. “Stay awake, it'll all be alright.”

…

It would be alright, but it ended up taking two whole months. Two months that Heloisa spent in bed, taking medicine that would hurry up the healing process and barely being able to move without experiencing pain. That did not prevent her tutors from giving her stuff to read and it drove her mad with anger, along with the fact that this prohibited her from leaving with the junior council to places such as Vesuvia and Firent. I was the one keeping her company most of the evenings, occasionally Madre or Padre would join but more often than not instead of them it was Tía Esmé if she happened to be on the grounds and not in the city or at court giving war council. Cibela had left the estate grounds days after the incident to lead a division of Cartagense soldiers to the Sea of Persephia, which had to be a journey of approximately two months. After a long discussion between Tía Esmé and Madre on which I had eavesdropped, they decided it was best to send Cibela away for at least a while for the bad blood to die down, and the troops desperately needed support on the front.

“Against who is the Grand Army fighting now?” I asked Tía Esmé one evening during dinner.

“The Bizanti are on the verge of starting a trade war after being threatened by a small, way too insignificant city state and it is our duty to stand by our allies and aid them in crushing the enemy.” Her gaze turned cool as she spoke. “You make it sound as if you think we are always at war with others.”

“Aren't we? You're always holding war councils with the Zaan and his courtiers.”

“Ximena!” Madre put down her fork and looked at me. “Don't speak like this to your aunt, especially not at the table.” But Tía Esmé merely raised her hand. “I don't mind, Marisol. And I don't blame you, dearest, after all you are still only a child whereas your sisters understand the way things work. We have the right to defend ourselves from our enemies at all costs.”

“I know, but does it have to be that way? Agustín surely could solve this, isn’t that what diplomats are for?” Aunt Esmé regarded me with a raised eyebrow, Madre laughed quietly and soon everyone turned their attention back to the food. Even Heloisa seemed to agree with them when I told her what happened at dinner.

“You should be glad we have people like Tía Esmé. If generals like her hadn't been so successful, Cartagenth would’ve already been conquered by someone and instead of the Zaan, some foreign ruler would call the shots.”

I sighed. “Maybe you're right. But not everything needs to end in bloodshed.” You out of all people should know that, I thought bitterly and sat down in an armchair. 

“Some people simply don't know better,”, Heloisa sighed, like always lacking self-awareness, and turned her attention back to her book. I looked at her, my tongue barely holding back a sharp remark, and grabbed the card deck. With Julia not teaching me divination beyond the basics, it was the only area I had to work on myself. The books in the library were helpful but it was mostly a matter of practice, as I found out. A lot of practice and listening. I shuffled the deck and pulled out a card. Justice, reversed. Unfairness and lies. How very fitting.