#“a new horse will fix me” - the words of a fool (me)

[jorvikwildhorse]

inspired by piosplayhouse, my own collection of horbs.

[lavenderstobins]

Eddie’s in danger.

He knows he’s in danger because there is a four year old beelining for him, trying very hard to appear like she’s not rapidly advancing towards him.

When Josie finally stops, she’s right in front of him.

He has no idea what might’ve spurred this. Best to play it safe. “Hey, kiddo.”

Josie blinks innocently at him. “You broked Steve’s mug.”

Shit. The mug. It had been an accident—he’d balanced it too precariously when he’d been doing the dishes and it had slipped. They have plenty of mugs so it shouldn’t have been an issue, except… it was Steve’s lucky mug.

Steve loves that mug. He always drinks out of it if he needs the good luck that day and swears that it never fails him. If he sees it has broken, he’d take it as a sign of, like, the worst luck ever, and that would be the end of that.

The break had been clean, at least. The pieces are currently hidden away in a shoebox until he has time to get the glue to fix it. It’ll be an easy enough fix, so Steve should be none-the-wiser.

Except.

“The luck mug,” Josie continues, presumably trying to raise an eyebrow but instead raising both of her eyebrows high up her forehead. It takes everything inside him not to snort at the sight.

“I’m fixing it,” he replies. Maybe this can be a lesson about white lies, or doing good, or something. There’s probably a lesson here, right? “Steve won’t know it ever broke.”

Josie blinks up at him again. “Be shame if he did.”

Eddie’s smile fades. “What?”

“Be shame if Steve knew you broked his mug,” she repeats, fixing him with a stare that’s oddly reminiscent of Erica.

Is he… is he being blackmailed by a child?

“Josie,” he starts, leaning forward so that they’re eye-to-eye and taking on a desperate tone. “You can’t tell Steve, okay? Nobody can know about the broken mug.”

She sighs heavily. It would be comical if not for the way his heartbeat has increased.

“I know,” she says, shaking her head. “But maybe I not know.”

“Don’t know,” he corrects, then squints. “What do you mean?”

“I know you broked his mug, Deedee.” Her tone is serious. “For Baby Sapphire, I not know. Baby Sapphire make it go—” She mimes an explosion with her hands, puffing out her cheeks. “Bye-bye.”

“Baby— What?”

Josie pulls out a crumpled catalogue page out of her pocket and holds it out. On it, in the corner, is a small, bug-eyed, blue plastic horse labelled Baby Sapphire. It’s the ugliest thing he’s ever seen. The nose isn’t even long enough for the horse to breathe. It’s like the pug of ponies.

Eddie looks up, meeting Josie’s pointed stare. It’s a battle he knows he’s already lost.

“Not a word,” he instructs, tucking the paper into his pocket. Josie brightens, beaming up at him, then skips away, merry as ever.

This is his life now. Blackmailed by a preschooler.

—

“Did you know Josie’s resorted to blackmail now?” Eddie says offhandedly. He’s sitting on the kitchen counter as Steve chops carrots, watching Josie play with her new toy from his view of the living room doorway.

“Earlier than I expected, honestly,” Steve says, not looking up. “What did she have on you?”

“Hmm? Oh, uh, not on me.” Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “I watched her extort Mike earlier.”

Steve glances at him, frowning. “Mike’s been out of Hawkins for two days.”

Fuck.

“I think Robin’s calling for me, actually.” Eddie slides off the counter, backing away as Steve’s eyebrows raise in amusement. “I’d love to continue this conversation, but, duty calls.”

“Robin’s out with Max!” Steve calls as Eddie makes a hasty retreat to the living room. “You’re fooling nobody, babe!”

Josie looks up as Eddie closes the door behind him, ugly horse in hand. Moments later, Steve opens the door again, one hand on his hip.

“What did you do?” He swivels from Eddie to Josie. “Josie, sweetie, what did Deedee do?”

Eddie stares at Josie, practically feeling the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Josie shrugs, still playing. “I no know.”

He’s filled with relief. Steve doesn’t look convinced.

“Are you sure?” he presses. “It’s important to tell the truth, Josie.”

She stops, then, squinting up at him. “Always?”

“Always,” Steve confirms.

“Like when you said Bel eated Mama’s food but it was you?”

Steve falters, mouth falling open. A huge grin spreads across Eddie’s face.

“You what?” Eddie asks delightedly. “Stevie, you didn’t blame our cat for eating Robin’s leftovers!”

“Okay, you know what?” Steve holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back. “Keep your secrets. Let’s not ask questions anymore.”

Eddie’s already laughing, though. “Steve, Rob almost took Bel to the vet because she thought she’d eaten fried rice.”

“I know!”

“And you offered to drive her there!”

“I know!”

—

[now on ao3]

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

To Bicker & To Love

note: forgive me if this fic is not a smooth read, trying to get back in the saddle again (hehe).

warnings: suggestive/fluff.

pairing: Sihtric x fem!reader

summary: You had to travel with Sihtric, by the King's orders.

word count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Reblogs & comments are immensely appreciated.

You just couldn't believe it. The way your horse had gotten a scare and in response ran off into the early sunset, the saddle still on his back to which the pouches that held all your herbs, seeds and bottled ointments were attached. You felt defeated, tears welling up in your eyes when you realised all that was valuable to you had just disappeared in the blink of an eye. All because the man you were forced to travel with, from Eoferwic to Bebbanburg, had not listened to you when you had told him to not eat like a starved boar moments before the unfortunate incident. 

The man's name was Sihtric, and he had been sent by King Aethelstan to find you; the best healer in what would soon be an united England. You were called to help the Lord Uhtred, who had suffered grave wounds during the battle of Brunanburh and was seemingly close to his death. You didn't quite trust the rugged looking Dane, but since the King himself had requested you, you wasted no time packing your tools and fetching your horse. And so you had left on horseback only hours after Sihtric had found you, determined to save a brave man's life.

The journey wasn't a short one, with some luck it would take roughly five to six days. That was at least when you both still owned a horse. Because now, after your horse had fled, you had no idea how much longer it would take since Sihtric's horse would have to carry two people from that very moment. But before you could even allow yourself to be concerned about that, you lashed out at Sihtric, who was sitting next to you as he recovered from the terrifying coughing fit he just had experienced that had scared off your horse.

'I told you!' you shouted, fighting your tears, 'I told you to not gulp the bread down like that! I warned you that you could choke on it, that I had seen men twice your size inhaling the crumbs and suffocating because they couldn't cough it out anymore! And yet you continued to shove it down like that! And now look!' you angrily pointed towards the empty horizon where your horse had vanished mere seconds ago, 'you almost choked and scared my horse! My horse, you fool!' you shouted and punched Sihtric's shoulder several times, 'my horse is gone with everything I had!'

Sihtric accepted your fury while he still gasped for air, his face red while tears stained his cheeks after he had nearly choked on the bread you had warned him about. He had been eating greedily, he couldn't deny that, all he wanted was to eat fast so the journey could be continued after a short stop. You had been travelling for two days already, getting little sleep, so the moments you got to rest to give the horses a break and to feed yourselves was always a small treat, but never a long lasting one.

'I'm sorry,' Sihtric wheezed, his voice still hoarse from coughing and gasping for air.

'You are sorry?' you yelled, 'sorry won't bring back my horse! Nor will it bring back everything I need to help Uhtred! I have to make everything all over again, and I do not know if we will find everything I need on our way!'

'I can assure you that everything you need will be found in Bebbanburg,' he said in between lingering coughs, 'you will be able to make new ointments, I promise.'

'You promise,' you scoffed and kicked the man's leather boot, 'and a horse? Will you promise me a new horse too as soon as we arrive?'

'I will,' Sihtric half lied.

He was not entirely sure if he could fix you a new horse immediately, but he was terrified of you so he would surely try everything he could to satisfy you. The way you spoke about healing and the magic of nature and the stars, Sihtric believed you to be a sorceress of sorts. And despite the fact it had been many years since he had encountered Skade, he was still wary of any lady who seemed to possess certain powers he could not explain, and he was convinced that you too held powers that could possibly curse him.

'Speaking of arriving,' you then groaned, 'is your horse strong enough to carry us both to Bebbanburg?'

'You question the strength of my beast?' Sihtric asked, offended, 'yes, he will hold,' he said snappy, 'besides, we will pass Dunholm and make a stop there,' he said as he got up, 'and I will see if I can help you to get a new horse there.'

Sihtric walked into you on purpose, bumping your shoulder and shoving you out of his way as he went to look for a private place to empty his bladder, so the journey could continue to the nearest village where you would stay one night to rest after the dramatic event.

'You are bruising my ribs,' Sihtric huffed back over his shoulder.

'I am barely holding you!' you snarled as you sat behind him.

You had only been sharing the same horse for an hour and it had been all but great. You didn't want to wrap your arms around Sihtric, but you had no other choice than to cling onto him since he was in a hurry to reach the nearest tavern, spurring his horse to gallop faster and faster as darkness was quickly taking over the lands.

'And stop squeezing my thighs between your legs!' Sihtric added.

'What did you expect?' you snapped, 'I am wearing a dress, Sihtric, I cannot give you any more space without shoving my skirt up further and completely exposing myself!'

'No one will see you anyway,' he mumbled, loud enough for you to hear.

You bit your tongue, wanting to curse him as much as you wanted to smack the back of his head. You had to remind yourself you were on your way to hopefully save a man's life, so you had to deal with Sihtric as long as was needed in order for you to do your job and be forever in favour with the King.

By the time you arrived at the nearest tavern, which was awfully coincidental named The Lost Horse, you were both tired and agitated. And as if things couldn't get worse, Sihtric informed you that the tavern only had one room left which didn't have two single beds. You made a face at the thought of sharing a bed with him, and it was not like Sihtric was any more excited for the night ahead. Because sharing the sheets with a sorceress was not something he was looking forward to, but he wouldn't show you his fear, being well aware you could use it against him.

You both reluctantly went up to the second floor of the rather quiet inn. Since it had been an eventful day it didn't take long before you were both left in your undergarments and sharing the thin sheet in a small and darkened room that stank of ale and moist wood. You tossed and turned as the drunk chatter of men outside your open window kept you up. And so you kept Sihtric up too, as you continued pulling the blanket off Sihtric's bare chest each time you moved, and he had enough of it after a short while.

'Stop it,' he said calmly but firmly, his hand wrapped around your arm to keep you from moving again.

'I cannot get comfortable,' you hissed in the dark and pulled your arm away from him.

'Neither can I if you keep moving!'

'This is all your fault anyway!'

'I'm sure it is,' Sihtric mumbled and turned his back to you.

He kept his brave composure while he already knew he would be sleeping with one eye open tonight, while you were unaware of his fright for you, which was also something you would never even find out about until years later, when he confessed it after you married him.

'I am cold,' you complained after a long silence.

Sihtric sighed in response and asked what you wanted him to do about it, because he was certainly not going to give up the whole blanket as it was indeed a chilly night, and the open window could not be closed because the stench in the room would become unbearable.

'Figure it out,' you huffed, 'you caused this situation.'

Sihtric inhaled deeply and turned over to find you with your back turned to him. He sighed quietly and then gathered the courage to wrap his arm around you, so he could pull you against his warm chest. You felt your face burn up when you were pressed against him, as it felt more comfortable and safe to be this close to him than you liked to admit. And while Sihtric gradually warmed you up like that, you both began to warm to each other's presence too.

And a short while later you tangled your fingers together with his, for a reason you couldn't explain, but it felt almost natural to do so. The same way it felt natural for Sihtric to rest his face against the back of your neck and push away your hair, only to then drag his lips faintly over your skin. His lips felt warm and soft as he began to kiss tenderly up your neck, and soon your breath hitched in your throat when he slowly added more pressure with each kiss he left. You lightly squeezed his hand while you gripped the sheets with your other, trying to control your sudden need to taste him and feel him inside you. But once you felt Sihtric's arousal press against your buttocks, you both gave in to the urges that had made you both snappy the past few days.

The next day you and Sihtric acted as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't begged for you to say his name when you climaxed, and as if you hadn't woken him up a few hours later for another good humping, which he had gladly done in his drowsy state.

The journey continued that morning, and you were off to Dunholm in the hopes of getting a new horse. And during your travel on horseback together you would never admit how you enjoyed inhaling his scent as you sat close behind him. And Sihtric in turn would never admit how he enjoyed the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist. But even though you were both quietly getting lost in each other more and more as the days progressed, neither of you had forgotten about the task at hand and its urgency. So when you had made a stop in Dunholm that turned out to be futile, for no suitable horse was currently available, you both turned back to your old selves again and started to blame each other for the delays you continued to suffer.

You bickered as the journey continued the next few days while sharing one and the same horse. And each stay in a village's tavern you stopped at for a good night's rest turned into another passionate and steamy night, during which you both only got little sleep and explored each other further and more eagerly.

Once you finally reached Bebbanburg you indeed were provided with everything you needed in an attempt to save Uhtred, who wasn't looking too greatly. But after a few days of good rest and your healing ointments, he started to get some colour back in his face again and he slowly became more aware of his surroundings too. Sihtric had continued to keep an eye on you, both out of interest and still his slight fright for you, and you had noticed his lingering eyes on you plenty of times. But it wasn't until the King had thanked you for your help and allowed you to travel back home that you would talk to the Dane again.

'A horse,' you said, startling Sihtric as he had been lost in his thoughts while feeding his own horse, 'you promised me a horse.'

'And I will get you one,' he said with pride, 'I actually have gotten you one already.'

Sihtric smiled and nodded to the impressive beast behind you, a beautiful black mare, one you would never be able to afford on your own account so you gladly accepted without hesitating.

'To  make sure you get back home in good health,' he continued, 'I will accompany you on your journey home.'

'I don't think so,' you chuckled while you were already mounting your horse.

'King's orders,' Sihtric lied, which caused you to not spur away immediately.

You could not dismiss the orders of a King, you just didn't know yet that Sihtric was never tasked with such a duty, but you wouldn't find that out until later that night.

'Fine,' you rolled your eyes and signalled your horse to walk, 'let's go.'

Sihtric was fast to get on his horse and caught up with you moments later. He thanked you for your help and apologised for the loss of your horse and belongings. You accepted his apologies and also gave him an apology of your own for being rather cold towards him at times, which made Sihtric smile cockily. And when you had your first stop in another small village that evening, once again sharing a room and ending up in the same bed for another impressive and sleepless night, Sihtric finally confessed his feelings to you and so convinced you to travel with him to Dunholm to stay with him.

'Stay and become my wife,' Sihtric whispered and smiled softly, a faint blush coloured his cheeks as he still recovered from his climax moments earlier.

'Your wife?' you chuckled and pushed a strand of hair that had escaped his braids behind his ear, your cheeks just as rosy as his, 'you are expecting me to marry you? Why?' you taunted, 'because you happen to satisfy me in ways no man has ever done before?'

'No, because… King's orders,' Sihtric smiled and winked, then pulled you in for a sweet kiss which would be followed by another few satisfying hours convincing you to stay with him, even though you never really needed to be convinced.

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[whump-card]

So... this is not whump. this is just porn. decidedly silly and wholesome porn. It brings me a lot of joy. There will be more of it. Leandro is a variation on Leannan!

I'm gonna post with minimal tags because I'm honestly not sure WHAT to tag this with. but I do want to know my silly joy reached other people, so I'd love to know what you think!!

Leandro and Krysa: Chapter 1

3218 words

NSFW, object insertion

Masterlist, Next

~~~

Frogs and crickets sang in the reeds. Water lilies floated serenely. The midday sun glanced softly off the palace roofs. Prince Leandro lay basking in the sun on the lawn by the pond, his black curls shining, switching the cross of his round legs with every new request.

“Krysa, order some tarts.” His fingers interlaced over his belly.

“Krysa, get me some shade.” His light brown nose wrinkled against the bright light.

“Krysa, tell me about the weather tomorrow.” He opened his gray eyes and fluttered his lashes.

“Krysa, get rid of the shade.” He lifted a hand to wave away the parasol and closed his eyes.

“Krysa,” the pause in the prince’s voice made the bodyguard’s ears perk up, “Would you ever fuck me?”

Gladly, if it would make you shut the hell up.

Oh, I can not say that.

“You’re hesitatinnnnng!” Leandro sang, that horrible grin on his face. At least his eyes were closed against the sun, he couldn’t see Krysa’s flush, his jaw working, his eyebrows furrowing.

“No,” Krysa said quickly. Whatever game the prince was playing, he wasn’t interested.

“Well, you know, I only ask,” Leandro spoke with suspicious sincerity, “Because out of all my bodyguards I know you’re the only one who’d be able to say no. I don’t want to ask someone who can’t say no.”

Krysa narrowed his eyes. He’d been assigned to Leandro, daytime duty, for two months now. Nothing about the prince had ever communicated any level of self-awareness before. Leander was firmly fixed in his mind as a foppish fool – one with a great ass and gorgeous eyelashes, but that was beside the point.

“I can order you a courtesan,” Krysa suggested. It was a game they played often, where Leandro would ask for one thing and the bodyguard would counter with a more realistic option.

“Mmm,” Leandro scrunched up his face, “They’re all… perfumey. I like you,” his grin returned and his eyes cracked open, lashes low, “You smell like sweat and horses.”

The way the prince sensually intoned it, ‘sweat and horses’ might as well have been ‘roses and silk.’ Krysa felt a bead of perspiration crawl down his back. He wasn’t used to being looked at, not the way the prince was looking at him right now. Discomfort wasn’t the right word – incongruence, perhaps. This was out of order in a way the bodyguard didn’t know how to correct. Krysa was not the kind to be looked at; he was pale and red-haired, of average height, and his bearded face was not ugly, he had been assured (but only by his sisters and mother); his build was intense, large, well-stomached, a body built from good food and good training, but rough and hairy and calloused, outfitted in quilted armor and leather straps. He was a far cry from the eye-candy courtesans, slim and smooth and hairless, all silks and delicate embroidery.

They’d been staring at each other for far too long. Leandro cracked first, bubbling into laughter.

“You should see your face, Krysa!” he cackled, “Have you never been flirted with in your life?”

Krysa ground his jaw shut. So it was a joke at his expense – but then the prince carried on.

“You are the most unapproachable man I’ve ever seen!” he wiped a mirthful tear from his eye, “Oh! How terrible. But I will respect your wishes, Krysa, I won’t ask again.”

Again, the irregular sincerity, as if his question was legitimate and the weight of it had been considered. Perhaps it was the absurdity of the situation that made Krysa slip, but he was speaking before he realized it.

“I’ve never seen you respect anything in your life.”

Leandro’s head lifted, his eyes wide, staring at Krysa. The bodyguard’s stomach sank, more annoyance at the berating that would surely follow than anxiety – but the prince just smiled once more.

“So,” he slid a foot closer to his body, lifting a knee in the air and blatantly showing off his leg, “I can ask you again?” He finished the question off by biting his lip in the most infuriating way.

Krysa tore his eyes away, scanning the gardens around in the vain hope that there would be an assassination attempt, just to save him from this situation.

“You can do whatever you want,” he said flatly.

“That’s not a no-o!” Leandro hummed delightedly.

Krysa glanced at the prince one last time before committing to watching the perimeter.

I suppose it isn’t a no.

~~~

It would have been a lie to say that Prince Leandro’s suggestion didn’t haunt Krysa. The prince wasn’t exactly his type – petite, chubby, full of shit – and even if he were, not that Krysa was spending his evenings imagining it, the bodyguard was just that: a bodyguard, and it would bring down hell on himself to do something as foolish as fuck a prince.

Yet: the haunting.

Things came to a head again at the jousting tournament.

Colorful banners flew; sunlight gleamed off of armor; the stands were as crowded as they’d ever been. This put Krysa on high alert, never straying from Leandro’s side, his eyes constantly darting across the faces and hands of the people around them. The vigilance and the heat were one thing – Leandro was another. Dressed to the nines in a blue and silver doublet and slashed sleeves, he lounged in the stands, his retinue taking up a whole row. He was supposed to sit in the royal box, but he insisted the view from the stands was better.

“Krysa, place a bet on the red rider.” He pointed impetuously.

“Krysa, find out when Uncle’s knight is up.” He tugged on Krysa’s sleeve.

“Krysa, shade!” He fanned himself.

“Krysa, fetch me another beer.” He shoved his empty stein towards Krysa.

“I cannot leave your side, your highness.” Krysa did his best to keep the sigh out of his voice.

“Get a servant to do it!” Leandro argued.

“Lucy’s placing your bet, Maurice is looking for your Uncle’s knight, and Akar is holding your parasol.”

Leandro blinked at Krysa for a moment, and it occurred to the bodyguard that the prince might not know the names of his personal servants. The idea added a trickle of rage into the growing pool in his gut.

“Can’t you go?” whined Leandro, “It’ll only take a minute.”

Krysa didn’t even look towards the beer stand; he knew it was a crowded frenzy.

“No.”

“No, your highness,” Leandro corrected him, “Father says you don’t say that often enough.”

Krysa closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, feeling the rage rise a little into his lungs.

“No, your highness, I cannot leave your side by command of the Queen. You will have to wait until Lucy or Maurice get back.”

“Huh!” Leandro slumped and pouted childishly. He looked into his empty stein and then, rather than setting it aside, dropped it through the slats of the stand. Krysa bristled.

“People have to clean that up, you know!” he barked.

Leandro looked up at him, big-eyed and open-mouthed. Then his lips spread into a dizzy smile, his cheeks flushing.

“Should I go get it then? Crawl into the filth under the stands on my hands and knees? Would you like that?” he asked eagerly.

“Very much so!” Krysa growled.

It was only Akar’s horrified face, hidden from Leadro by the parasol, that made Krysa come to his senses. He found himself looming over the prince, and took a step back, clearing his throat. Leandro burst into a fountain of giggles.

“Can you imagine! Me, crawling around under the stands! But I bet my ass would look good on all fours, don’t you think so, Krysa?”

Krysa scanned the crowd, begging someone to make a move.

“I asked you a question, Krysaaa.” the prince sang.

“Yes!” Krysa snapped, “No! Will you just sit quietly and watch the damn joust?” Little shit.

Leandro’s lips curled into a distinctly cattish smile.

“Yes, Krysa.” The prince sat up in his seat properly, folding his hands in his lap.

The relief of actually being listened to was immense. Krysa relaxed a fraction, returning his focus to the people around them. His eyes caught Akar’s, and through a series of animated eyebrow wiggles the manservant communicated his shock and amusement. Krysa snarled at him.

Maurice and Lucy returned shortly, with the news that the Duke’s knight would not be jousting for another hour or more and the rider the prince had wanted to bet on had already lost. Leandro yawned and stretched in his exaggerated way.

“Then I see no reason to stay. I have so much work to do, I can’t watch a joust all day.” This was a lie. Leandro had spent many a day frittered away at the parade ground. “You’re all dismissed, Krysa can escort me back to my chambers.”

So it was that Krysa found himself alone with the prince in his sitting room, a space swathed in silk and damask and tapestries. There was no real need for Krysa here, not with the guards outside the heavy door. He could make his escape.

“Do you have any further need of me, your highness?” Say no say no say no.

“I did have a question, actually.”

Damn! But Leandro’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet, which caught Krysa’s ear. He waited for the prince to continue, watching him lean against the back of a settee and play with the rings on his fingers. He almost looked nervous.

“Would you, um. Have you given any thought to what I asked you? At the pond the other day?”

More thought than is wise.

“What of it?”

“Well,” Leandro smiled, almost shy, “Can I hear your answer again?”

Krysa started to formulate a response, something to turn the prince down without igniting a tantrum – then a shallower instinct took over. It was a gamble, but he wanted to scare Leandro off for good.

“I do want to fuck you, actually,” he snarled, stalking closer to the prince, “I want to rip off your foppish little clothes and stuff you so full of my cock that you won’t be able to speak or walk for a month, and everyone will finally get some relief from your incessant, inane yapping!” his voice rose to a shout.

Leandro’s eye grew ever wider while Krysa threatened, but rather than shrinking away he leaned forward, his hands lifting like he might touch Krysa’s chest.

“Really?” he breathed.

Fuck, Krysa thought.

“You know how stupid that would be?” he hissed, “If I get caught fucking you I’m dead.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t allow it,” said Leandro, “I wouldn’t let any consequences touch you, ever.”

“What about you? Won’t it damage your reputation if it got out you were letting your own bodyguard top you?”

Leandro laughed brightly. “As if my reputation is a shining beacon!”

“What about your mother? She’d make your life miserable.”

“Already does,” the prince dismissed, “It would be fun to see her try harder.”

“What about…” Krysa’s eyes raked down Leandro’s body. “I don’t want to hurt you, not really.”

“Ah,” Leandro’s hands finally settled on Krysa’s chest, “But I like being hurt.”

“What about…” Krysa’s hands found Leandro’s elbows, fingers sinking into soft flesh, barriered by silky cotton.

“You could kiss me now,” suggested the prince, grinning up at him in a terribly annoying way.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” Krysa growled, and pressed his mouth over Leandro’s, capturing the prince’s stupid smile. For a moment they were all lips and tongue and needy grasping hands, but then Krysa broke away.

“I’m not fucking you.”

Leadro looked up at him, breathing hard, and the bodyguard expected a fit, but instead the prince nodded.

“That’s fine, I um… I actually had this idea, that maybe, um…” He was leaning back now, reaching over the settee and rooting for something among the pillows.

“Spit it out,” Krysa ordered.

Leandro straightened, pressing on object into Krysa’s hands. “Here! Here.”

It was a hairbrush, very clean, made out of polished hard wood. Krysa looked back and forth between it and the prince. He’d said he liked being hurt.

“Do you… want me to hit you with this?”

“No – well, you could, but, well…” Leandro was in a complete tizzy, bright red, twisting the rings on his fingers. Krysa made the connection.

“You want me to fuck you with this.”

“Yes please,” Leandro answered instantly, and it was first time Krysa had ever heard the word please come out of the prince’s mouth.

“You got oil?” Krysa asked.

“Yes, but…” Leandro’s teeth were practically chattering with excitement, “I don’t think we’ll need it. I’m, um, I’m really wet.”

Something about that admission tipped Krysa over the edge. He was in it now.

“Open,” he ordered. Leandro just blinked at him. “Open!” he barked, and Leandro opened his mouth. Krysa shoved in the handle of the brush.

“Hold this.”

Leandro looked like he might pass out from delight as his mouth closed around the handle. As soon as he had it Krysa widened his stance and scooped the prince up into his arms. Leandro squeaked. He was heavy, but it was a short walk into the next room, the prince’s bedchamber. Krysa dropped him unceremoniously onto the massive feather bed, overflowing with blankets and pillows. Then he set to work on Leandro’s clothes; he did desperately want to rip them away, but he also had a great deal of respect for seamsters and so only popped a few buttons as he pulled away Leandro’s trousers, along with his shoes, throwing them aside. He stood back and viewed the prince, now naked from the waist down. His arms were akimbo, gripping fistfuls of the blankets beneath him, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. His lips were parted, the brush held between his teeth, giving him a sort of desperate look. His legs were pressed together, some scrap of shyness catching him. Krysa climbed onto the bed, sliding a hand under Leandro’s knee, callouses brushing against the silky smooth skin there.

“Let me see,” he commanded, quiet and low.

Leandro allowed Krysa to lift his knee and lower it to the side, revealing the folds hidden in the soft bush of black hair between his legs. Krysa shifted closer, gently sliding two fingers between them; as Leandro had promised, they were completely slick. His fingertips circled Leandro’s opening, gauging its looseness, before sliding inside slowly, easily, his eyes flicking up to the prince’s face to catch his reaction. Leandro was watching him through hooded eyes, still breathing hard. Krysa found Leandro’s clit with his thumb and circled it, and smiled when the prince tightened around his fingers.

“Just a bit of talk and kiss,” goaded Krysa, “That’s all it took to get you this wound up?”

Leandro made a small noise, but with the brush handle in his mouth he couldn’t respond.

“I bet you come easy, too,” Krysa murmured, and as much as he hated to give Leandro his mouth back he leaned forward and plucked the brush out with his free hand.

“Krysa!” Leandro spoke immediately, “Krysa!”

“Something wrong?”

“No, I-”

“Then shut up, or I’ll put a stocking in your mouth.”

“Really? You would do that? Because, that would, um, oh!”

Krysa yanked his fingers out of Leandro and climbed off the bed, sorting quickly through the discarded attire and extracting a stocking. Leandro propped himself up on his elbows to watch.

“You’re really going to put a stocking in my mouth? That’s so-”

By then Krysa was back on him, looming over him on all fours.

“Open.”

Leandro giggled wildly and obeyed. Krysa stuffed the sock into his mouth.

“Take it out if you feel lightheaded,” he directed, and Leandro nodded with great enthusiasm.

Krysa shifted back to settle above Leandro’s pelvis, finding the hairbrush where he’d set it aside. With one hand he spread Leandro’s folds and with the other he positioned the hairbrush, the end of the handle just touching the prince’s entrance. Again he checked in on Leandro’s face, looking for any sign of discomfort – but the prince looked delighted, annoyingly so. In that moment Krysa decided to fuck the smug look off his face.

Krysa inserted the brush handle, a little faster than he would have ordinarily – not that there’s an ordinary form of operation for fucking with a brush handle. It slid in easily with how soaked Leandro was, and the prince’s hips twisted a little. His breathing picked up again, and Krysa half-worried he would hyperventilate.

“Breathe slower!” he ordered, “Relax.”

Leandro visibly struggled to get his breath under control, but after a few moments it slowed, and he visibly relaxed.

“Good,” Krysa clipped, and started moving the brush. Out, in, a slight upward push. Again, again. Leandro moaned through the stocking. His hips twitched eagerly.

“You want more?” Krysa teased, “If this is how hot you get for a hairbrush I can’t imagine what my cock would do to you.”

The idea was there – Krysa was hard, and had been for a good minute: but they’d agreed on the hairbrush, and Krysa wasn’t about to alter course while the prince was this… vulnerable.

Strange, to think of the prince as vulnerable. He was an overpowered little ass, he got everything he wanted, but here he was being putty in Krysa’s hands. Krysa certainly could fuck him, if he wanted to, and he realized he did very much want to; and yet, they’d agreed on the hairbrush, in that frenzied way the lustful agree on things. It was better to honor that.

Leandro whimpered with ecstasy at Krysa’s words, and in response the bodyguard moved the brush more forcefully, pressing it in deeper. With his other hand he found Leandro’s clit again, engorged and desperate, and massaged it gently. Leandro sighed in time with his breath, an ah, ah, ah that made Krysa’s blood rush. The vocalizations grew in volume and the prince’s hips curled up, inviting the brush handle in farther still. Krysa maintained his rhythm, carrying Leandro over the edge. The prince’s hips bucked and his body shuddered, falling silent as aftershocks and tremors ran up and down his limbs. Krysa slowly extracted the hairbrush, Leandro making one last small noise as it slipped wetly out of him. Krysa moved over him, pulling the stocking out of his mouth.

“Are you-”

“That was incredible!” Leandro rushed out, “You really, you know what you’re doing, I mean, you could have been rougher but-”

“Are you alright?” Krysa spoke forcefully over him.

“What? Of course! Why wouldn’t I-”

“Open.” Krysa lifted the hairbrush.

“Huh?”

“Open!”

Leandro opened his mouth and Krysa shoved in the hairbrush handle, still slick with the prince’s fluids. Then he sat back on Leandro’s thighs.

“I like you better when you can’t talk.”

Leandro giggled, muffled by the handle.

“I’m going now,” declared Krysa, climbing off the bed, “I will be seeing you tomorrow.”

With that the bodyguard strode out of the room, out of the prince’s chambers, making haste towards his own. His own body was desperate for some attention, and while his lustful mind sang with delight, his rational mind reeled. That was dangerous. That was out of order.

Yet, lust won out: that was hot.

~~~

Masterlist, Next

Thank you for reading!!!

[pandolfo-malatesta]

...“but on his way back to Riverrun he left his tail and went off with a woman.”

Once they’re spotted making for the camp calls ring out to herald their arrival.  “She’s back!  She’s brought him.”  There is no welcome in the calls, no comradely greeting; instead the words lift like snouts scenting blood.  “The lovers!” someone chortles, and he is upon a plodding horse again, pressed against her, can smell the ghost of his rotting hand.  “The Kingslayer and his whore!”  Upon hearing that she makes a choked noise.

He bristles, though not at the epithet so often flung against him.  Why would they call her, so obviously a chaste and honest maid, such a thing?—other than to mock her, to wound her, to humiliate her.  Her shoulders have crept high, her elbows drawn in; she is trying to make herself small enough to overlook.  His pulse quickens as he tries to make a fist of the hand he does not have.  Even if the golden hand cannot hold a sword, it can dispense retribution of its own.  Ronnet Connington has learned as much; if Jaime has the chance, these men will, too.

Anger at hearing her insulted because of him is expected.  Less so is the lightning bolt of desire, quick and pure and devastating, that the words send through him.  He shivers at it, even as shame fills him.

Wisdom would let the slander stand unanswered.  “My lady’s name is Brienne,” he warns, relieved that his voice is steady, if a bit loud in his own ears.  “And if ever I’d had her, I would remember it.”  He doesn’t need to glance over to know that her flush has deepened, darkened.

As they rein in their horses, men swarm them.  Rough hands drag them from their saddles; they jerk his arms back and wind a rope around his elbows, rip his sword belt free.  He notices that they leave Brienne’s hands loose.  Ice spikes through his veins as he realizes that they aren’t afraid of what she may do to them.  If they aren’t afraid of her, injured though she is, they can’t be afraid of him, and his bonds are meant to show him his place here.

His heart sinks as their captors herd them toward a hole in the rock.  They duck into a cavern, dotted here and there with fires that cast weird shadows onto the walls.  Men mill about the place, all of them with metal glinting somewhere about them: a long knife in a belt, an axe within arm’s reach.  Their attention is fixed on the new arrivals.  Whatever brought Brienne and him here, they have little hope of an easy exit from this place.

There is a gurgling, rattling noise, the like of which he’s never heard and that can only bode ill.  Then, as if translating that hideous rasp, a northern voice calls, “Get him on his knees!”

As they force him to the ground Brienne struggles against the hands restraining her, though without much conviction.  “I would see them first,” she demands, sounding not as firm as she would probably like.  He follows her gaze to see that she is addressing a ghoul in grey.  The figure is strangely familiar: something in its erect bearing, in the matted auburn hair.  

Yet more captives shuffle out—neither of them a highborn lady of three-and-ten; just a boy and a hedge knight, both of them bruised and unremarkable in every way, though the latter eyes him with unconcealed disgust and the former looks fit to cry at the sight of her—and Jaime reckons he knows why he’s here.  Even so, he huffs out a laugh.  She glances sharply at him.  “I’m only worth two lives to you?” he murmurs lightly.  “You wound me, wench.”

“Jaime,” she keens, just at the edge of his hearing, and his slight smile disappears.  He must spare her from this.

He surveys the motley assemblage, ending with the ghoul.  “Who commands this?” he asks in the voice of the lord commander.  “At whose order am I to die?”

The redheaded ghoul hacks and sputters and the northman says, “Your own hand signed your death warrant.”  Jaime raises an eyebrow—would raise his golden hand, no longer good for signing anything, if he could.  “You have broken faith with my lady.”

He shrugs.  “More fool her, to be surprised by it.”

Brienne tries to stride forward.  “Let him live, please, my lady.  We are sworn to find your daughter, and we will, together.”  He will remember the warble of her “please” for the rest of his life, be it five minutes longer or five decades.  To have such a one as Brienne of Tarth—protector of innocents, loyalty made flesh, the finest knight in Westeros but for the chance of her birth—plead for his life humbles him.

The northern youth shakes his head.  “Lady Stoneheart spared your life, and theirs.”  He gestures to the captives.  “The Kingslayer must die.  Keep your word and prove yourself true.”

Jaime nearly laughs at that, his eyes narrowing.  Brienne has proven herself true time and again, across miles and months, through blood shed and sheer stubbornness.  What she has never been is a skilled liar, so that something is amiss has been obvious from the moment she returned to him.  Her eyes have been turned from him, never meeting his gaze; her speech has been unusually shy.  He’d expected perhaps to have to fight for Sansa Stark, side by side with Brienne.  He’s known for ages that he might die with her, though not like this.  The men holding her let go, none too gently; one shoves a sword into her hands, and for a moment she looks down at it as if she’s never held a weapon before.  Then she pulls Oathkeeper from its scabbard and pivots to face him.

Jaime Lannister’s lot in life, it seems, is to kneel before one woman or another.  First Cersei, then Catelyn Stark, who has become an eldritch creature who wants him dead; and now it will end with him on his knees before Brienne, the Maid of Tarth.  For so long he’s thought that he would die in battle, on his feet or astride a horse with a sword in his hand; he finds he doesn’t mind being at Brienne’s feet.  He only hopes she won’t blame herself too much, afterward.

He looks up at her and smiles.  It’s not the expression he’d like to wear, an insouciant smirk in the face of the Stranger; it’s softer, fitting for the woman who has planed away his carefully constructed self-conceit.

“Go away inside,” she whispers; he isn’t sure if it’s to herself or him that she speaks.  He won’t do it, not this time, not in their last moments together.

He’s never been afraid of death, but with the hour at hand he finds himself reluctant.  “Brienne,” he says. The glistening of her eyes is more precious than any gemstone.  Would that he had knelt before her in peaceful times.  “I trust you.”  With his life, and now with his death.  It will be quick—she will make sure of it.  Her sword is sharp, her arm strong.  He, at least, will not suffer.

Though her expression does not lighten she straightens, drawing her shoulders back and her head high.  In her eyes he sees rekindled that defiant spark, and bites back a grin.  Her fingers tighten around Oathkeeper’s hilt.  “Jaime,” she says, “you—”

As if possessed, the hedge knight bursts from where he’s been standing and barrels toward the undead Catelyn Stark.  All eyes turn to him, including Brienne’s; surely Jaime isn’t the only one to see the northman pull his dagger and aim it at the knight’s gut.  The knight himself sees and dives forward, under the dagger and at the northman’s knees.  The two tumble down and Catelyn—Lady Stoneheart—stumbles back, hissing.  While Jaime considers staggering to his feet Brienne whirls away from him, crossing to where the two men grapple in the dirt and, in one stroke, separating Lady Stoneheart’s head from her body.

As the blow is struck all sound is sucked out of the cavern, and the fires extinguish.  With ears ringing and eyes wide, he wonders if he’s died, if someone has finished the job for Brienne.  Then, dead or alive, he hauls himself to his feet.

Across the cavern—or maybe nearer than he can tell—there is a faint glow, a pale wriggle of movement in the air.  With his luck it will be some creature that thrives in darkness come to feast on human flesh; or maybe it is merely madness taking hold, his mind so starved for light, even after just these few moments, that it has imagined itself a source.  The sweep of it to and fro through the black is entrancing; streams of light linger in the air, making it hard to discern the thing’s shape.  But now he can see that its light is blue, and that it seems to be searching for something.  Strange though it is, the light does not alarm him as it approaches—except when it now and then disappears.  Its blue is kindly, comforting, and he stands straight and still, ready to welcome it.

When the light reaches him it is enough to illuminate its immediate surroundings.  A band around his chest loosens with the darkness pushed back.  Now he can see that the glow comes from a sword, and can’t imagine why he didn’t recognize it earlier.  He’s been here before: in a dream with Brienne lighting his darkness.

A hand he knows extends toward him.  The fingers run from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck, then across his throat, pausing at his pulse point to feel the thrum of blood there.  Her hand splays against his chest, drags down toward his stomach; his breath catches at the warm press of it as she ensures that he is uninjured.  I am well, he wants to tell her, and wants to ask if she is, but doesn’t know if his voice will work or if the sorcery surrounding them will leave him mute.

And then she touches his face: the faintest brush of fingertips against his cheek.  For neither the first time nor the last Jaime is helpless before her, helpless without her.  He closes his eyes, none the blinder for it, until she takes her hand away.

Then she is cutting through his bonds, propping the half-dead hedge knight halfway onto Jaime’s shoulder, and leading them and the boy out of the cavern.  They emerge, squinting, into daylight.  In the light the sword is as ordinary as it’s ever been; in the light so is she.  He takes her hand in his, and takes up his place beside her.

[vultureboi]

Dr. Horrible BkDk AU

Warnings: MC DEATH

Katsuki is holding the bag of liquid that USED to be gold bars. He stares at it in utter disbelief. “So you’re telling me THIS is gold?”

“Yes. The molecules-“

“No, no, no. This looks NOTHING like gold turned liquid!”

“Well, technically it’s not gold anymore…”

“…” Katsuki takes a deep breath. “Okay. This is fine. I am fine. We can adjust the ray and fix… this.” His assistant knows his rage can get out of hand. So when he came back with mush? He was expecting to get beaten. “Either way. I have to go.”

“Oh! Laundry day, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Good luck!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Katsuki may have a crush. This cute freckled boy who shows up at the laundry mat with cheeks so biteable! He can’t take the need to be with this boy. But, he has yet to even introduce himself. He stays four to five feet away at all times and observes him like an absolute creep. But by god he can’t get enough of him. The only reason he goes to this laundry mat is for him! He has his own machine at home!

He’s going to have a heart attack if he keeps watching this cute nerd chew on his lip while mumbling to himself about heroes. Fuck, he hates it but loves it at the same time!

He hates it because he’s a villain! The heroes he talks about are all douchebags behind the scenes and Katsuki has seen that first hand. If Izuku only saw what he saw, they’d be ruling the world together!

But for now, he’s stuck attempting to get a word out. What is he supposed to do when those big green eyes stare at him?!? He freezes! He mumbles! He becomes an absolute FOOL!

Katsuki’s goal is to be a member of the Evil League of Evil. Their boss, Bad Horse. He WILL join them! All he needs is a big break! And this Freeze ray will do it! He knows it will!

He just has to intercept the van!

Long story short, that was both a failure and success. Success in the fact that he got the stuff, but failure in the fact that now his nemesis Captain Hammer has been introduced to his crush. And now they’re dating.

He’s been stalking them for days and watched as the asshat has been acting like an angel in front of his crush! He can’t take it!

He decided to take a break. He needs to focus on getting into the ELE. But right when he tries to use his new freeze ray, he finds out at the wrong time that it needs to warm up.

Bad Horse requires blood. And Katsuki usually doesn’t kill. But if he kills his nemesis? He’d do it. He feels the evil growing inside of him. He needs to do it. He can’t take it. He will.

So, now that the lying asshat has set up a huge ego boosting show for himself with the new homeless shelter, Katsuki has a plan. And it WILL work.

Captain Hammer, the egotistical bastard is singing a song, being distracted. Katsuki watches as Izuku walks away. Oh no he’s really gonna kill the bastard. He humiliated him!

Freezing him was easy. He was distracted. And maybe singing a song about how evil he is and how Captain Hammer will die wasn’t wise. Maybe wasting all those shots to scare the crowd wasn’t wise either. As now he’s on the ground after the freeze ray ran out, his death ray aimed at his face. But the first thing he noticed is that the ray is overloaded. If it’s fired, it’ll explode. “Hey-“ he tries to warn. But it’s too late. The devices explodes, sending Captain Hammer back.

Katsuki stands up and can hear the bastard sobbing. He wasn’t even bleeding! But before Katsuki can get angry, he notices Izuku in the back of the room. With shrapnel in his chest.

He feels like the world freezes. Everything slows down. He walks over, his hands shaking in fear.

“Kacchan? Is that you?” Izuku spits up blood, his voice weak.

“Deku… Deku! Please! Oh god…!”

“Don’t worry, Kacchan. Captain hammer… will save… us…” his eyes go blank. Katsuki stares at the rapidly cooling body. The corpse of his love. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this!

But to the world, he got everything he wanted. He got into the League. He got to be the best villain. He defeated Captain Hammer. He did it. He accomplished his goals.

But what did he lose? What did it cost?

Now he has nothing left to lose.

Nothing.

He feels…

Nothing.

[melodyofthevoid]

The Crane Wives Examined: Fool In Her Wedding Gown:

Second in my Crane Wives series, first one here

The second album released, this collection centers more on love, both for ill and for good. Contrasting both the extreme highs and reliefs of love with tracks like “How to Rest” and “Icarus”, and more toxic and bitter emotions like “Tongues and Teeth” and “Back to the Ground”. If Safe Ship, Harbored was more of a mixed sea, this is intensity on every front: a hurricane. The whirlwind of love for all the beauty and pain.

Buckle in because this one is long. 

Icarus

A euphoric ending to a relationship that dragged the singer down, and now their former lover is flying away. And yet there is no resentment, as they wish for them to breathe cleaner air. There is almost joy in the singer’s voice in asking who he has become in the wake of their relationship. Now that they are free, who are they?

The orchard is the life they made together, once perhaps flourishing, but now a reminder of the one sided sacrifice it became. It wasn’t healthy, it bore no fruit, so it all burns to the ground, making way for a new life. Fire can be a destructive force, but it can also make way for new fertile earth.

There is not room for someone who doesn’t want to stay, who won’t put in the same effort. Anyone deserves to have their love returned, so the lover can fly away, he wasn’t worth keeping around. They’ve both torn what they had apart, and it’s not worth salvaging. Why lie when they can leave it be and let it rest?

The singer is flying away too, also free to soar and find new heights on their own. They’re spreading the ashes of what once was in the sun, until they fall back in love again, like Icarus.

Steady, Steady

There are expectations placed upon a couple to settle down. That one day all of the wild impulses of youth will fade into nothing more than dreams gone by. This singer sees this, hears the calls to ready herself for a quiet life of marriage. But she knows that isn’t her.

The shift in tone between the choruses and verses is the shift from quiet hesitation to wild abandon. A banjo line like a galloping horse, running for its life out on an open plane. The singer is in love, this much she knows, but the concept of traditional life and marriage is a plague, “all of our for good makes me ache to be alone”. What good is this love if forever means changing? The expectation of marriage is ill-fitting, and they’re feeling ever more constrained by it all. They challenge their love with a question.

“Are you so sure you’ve tamed me?”

Then the quiet returns, telling the singer to stay steady. That they’ll know when they’re ready. Life’s troubles and tribulations, the heat of the sun in this case, can make someone go crazy, lose all direction. But the singer says they’re ready to run, and the beat kicks in again.

The couple had talked about escaping the dead end town they’re in and moving out west, a dream that is fading by the day. The singer refuses to give up on it though, they won’t be stuck here, they won’t give up. They plead with their lover to keep up with them and run, they can’t stand the idea of staying and rotting away. At the end there’s an implicit threat, that if their lover can’t keep up, that they’ll escape on their own. It’s not their fault.

But in the end, they weren’t ready together, and the song ends on a melancholic note, fading off defeated. The wild abandon too much, and the future now is uncertain.

Easier

Getting over a betrayal isn’t a simple task, especially one where there is no closure. The singer’s lover left while they were sleeping without a word, and they’re left to pick the pieces up by themselves with no one to turn to. They wonder if they’d done the same if it would’ve hurt their partner, consumed their every thought like it does to them. The need to exact equal harm is so tempting, but useless in the end. Because it doesn’t change the fact that they were abandoned.

A change of scenery might fix things, free them from the memories hung on the walls and seeped into the soul of the house.

This house, this peace was the first and only one the singer’s ever known though, there’s so much anchoring them to this place even though it’s hurting them. What does one do in this situation?

And would being someone else make this process easier? After all, some are unaffected by these things. Some people can pick themselves up and live again. The singer just wishes it would be easier to move on. It’s never that simple though.

Logically it’d be better for them to pack up and move on. Leave this relationship in the past. But human nature is fickle, and so they stay, trying to convince themselves that it’ll get easier in time if they just ignore it and let it go.

Shallow River

A classic mourning of the love lost to another, the singer mourns a life she cannot share with a woman soon to be wed, knowing that they’ll never have a life together. The song starts with the metaphor of the red sky at morning, a warning sign of an oncoming storm. A flood is coming, a storm that threatens to swallow the singer. Her love is promised to another, a ring on her finger. She tells herself to settle down and forget the other. For her heart to be still.

Because on some level she’s furious, that her love is seemingly throwing what they had away for the stability of another, who can give her the title. Who can give what the singer cannot.

The singer then turns to her love and tells her to leave whatever they had in the past behind, let the embers flicker out and die. It’s for the best for them both. The title is dropped here, the subject the eponymous “fool in her wedding gown”. It’s heavily implied that she’s not in love with the one she’s marrying, and that this wasn’t what she really wanted. But now there’s no choice to make.

Any punishment that may come the singer welcomes, so long as her love leaves her sight and her mind. Separated forever more for both their sakes. And finally she calls her love beautiful one more time, saying that she’s “no one’s baby”, perhaps a mixed metaphor for how this marriage is loveless, and the one love she had she can no longer pursue. Forever trapped in this situation. The singer bids her farewell, telling her to keep the chains of her marriage off the ground, and to never think of her.

There does lie the question of why they split, but given the seemingly forbidden love angle, there does appear to be at least one answer. The singer is a woman, singing to a woman, A Fool In Her Wedding Gown released prior to the Supreme Court ruling that made gay marriage legal across all 50 states, so it’s possible that this was the only option that the subject had in terms of a future. Tragic, but all too real.

Strangler Fig

In nature, it isn’t uncommon for there to be relationships between beings that are unequal. Parasitic. The strangler fig is one such invader, growing over a tree and true to its name strangling out the host, sapping nutrients from it. So too is this relationship unequal and toxic, and the singer wants out.

Their partner trapped them in, building up a “kingdom” around them. Treating them carelessly and taking their options from them one by one until they couldn’t stand it anymore. They acknowledge that he can be charming but at this point his games are driving them even further away.

In the chorus the singer asks their lover to “climb me to the canopy”, like the strangler fig does. It wraps around the trunk in a spiderweb and kills the host. However the partner is using the singer, his desires will be the undoing of both of them. Perhaps not at the same time, but it will be.

After all, once the tree dies, there’s only a hollow shell of the strangler fig left behind with nothing to support it, much like this toxic partner will be left in a mess of his own making once the singer leaves and has enough. He preaches and controls the singer into a miserable life, and it makes them wonder how he’ll ever get anyone else.

The rest is a demand for autonomy and for their life back. For the effort and life they gave to be returned. They will not feed this parasite any longer and they’re making themselves clear. No more.

The Glacier House

Over time once a pair separates, changes occur. It’s inevitable, time shifts all things. People drift apart and find each other again after years and it’s hard to reconcile those differences. This pair were lovers once, and now after so long, the other is colder, more bitter. Eyes that once held sweetness are now vacant of life. Like a glacier their heart is unyielding and they’ve settled beneath its weight. The singer beseeches their ex to understand that they carry no ill will towards them, not really. But they had to leave that situation, it wasn’t healthy for them.

They tell their ex to bundle up, to try and make themselves warm even though they’re alone now. The seasons will change, things will get better, and maybe they can meet again as friends years down the line. They’re both not in a place to be near one another for better or worse.

Even though they’re resigned to bundle themselves in for now, shut away the world, shut out love, things will change eventually. They will have to heal themselves, as difficult of a journey as that may be. They made the bed that they lay in, and it’s up to them to change it, if they want that.

Tongues & Teeth

An anthem to the unapologetic, the dangerous, the wolf not bothering to wear sheep’s clothing. An unstoppable train of a song, the banjos and drums lively and bouncing. There is a cloying sweetness to the instrumentals in the quieter moments, but it’s all a ruse.

The singer is all sharp edges finely honed over the years. A mouth barbed and stinging, and that’s all they can offer. An attempt at sweet gestures, a kiss, a moment of tender affection will only end in pain for the other. They sing this with an audible grin, as if taunting the other to lean in closer if they dare.

There’s a patronizing air as if they’re patting their lover on the head, understanding that they mean well, but nothing they can do will change who they are. “I am not a vessel for your good intent”. They’re honest, if anything, they only want to break and use, be themselves no matter the consequences for anyone else. It’s a pattern, one they’re more than aware of. But if the other is fine like that? Well who are they to stop them?

But they do warn again that any preconceived notions of traditional love or idealization of them will fall through. They belittle the notion of the dreams of who she might be, knowing that her lover’s expectations will never be satisfied. Mere fantasies. Then there is a warning, saying this will fall through, a crack in the facade of uncaring glee. They’re desperate to keep their genuine feelings hidden away in a small box. Perhaps in small moments before things fall apart the other may see a glimpse of what lies beneath. But she’d prefer the blindness, it’s easier.

There’s another howling warning, as if she’s shouting to the winds that she’ll ruin her lover before she shifts to a softer tone, acknowledging that she’s ruined others before and will in the future. It’s in her nature.

Then the growl returns, warning that she’ll poison any happy thought, any good thing her lover’s ever had. Using them up and throwing them away when she’s done, but so long as they know… she’s fine with that.

It ends as wild as it starts with more howling, she’s riding off into the sunset, untamed and unchanged.

Back to the Ground

There’s not much to do once a relationship has run its course. There’s an exhaustion, a resignation like laying down to die. The singer knows that this is it, that there’s nowhere else for this transaction to go.

They’ve been shelved emotionally, collecting dust as the pair drifts apart. Yet at the same time, they carry all of the memories of what once was. The knowledge of their partner. They may be tired and worn, but as they say “there’s nothing about you I don’t know”. And with that knowledge, they confess that they know that this is coming to an end. Asking, pleading, for the breakoff to be gentle. To be given back to the ground, to be given peace.

They put all they could into the relationship, trying to make the relationship flourish. But the seeds didn’t have the right soil, or were simply doomed from the start. The relationship dies, the buds dying, the warmth and love dying, but there’s an element of grief there as well. The singer doesn’t want to let go, but has to.

There’s a callback to “The Glacier House”, as the singer says that their hearts lay under frozen soil and ice, both stewing in their misery. But the singer will escape, and only wants to be let go with grace back to the ground.

Show Your Fangs

A battle cry, a declaration in the style of an old western. Wavering like the desert heat rippling off of the sands. It is the song of a lone woman, wandering the world to find herself again. Rejecting the weight and sins of her past on a path all her own. Trying to find a new way.

She finds comfort in the night, among the stars, the light of day bringing with it a sun that threatens to burn her, and an anger that boils within. A wedding on the horizon.

And she won’t have it. She refuses to be the meek, demure bride shuffling obediently towards her fate. She is a lioness, capable and willing to defend herself at all costs. As she's run away from the wedding that was to come, defying the expectation of others. Making a makeshift tent out on her own, knowing her husband-to-be never truly understood a single thing about her. 

Once this might’ve been the end for her, making it out on her own in the endless heat, but she’s calloused and won’t give up so easily. In the face of a threat, beasts snarl and show their fangs as a warning. She is the product of all of those who came before her. Forced to live in loveless marriages and try to pass their knowledge onto the next generation in hopes that their mistakes wouldn’t be repeated. And the singer has forged weapons from that knowledge and is ready to use them. 

Showing her true self to the world. 

Once & For All

Similar to “Back to the Ground” this is a story of a relationship falling apart, but this is not a slow decay. Not a war of attrition. This is a prolonged battle, one fought on every angle and from every side. No one’s won, it’s a continuous net loss.

The singer wants to put an end to it once and for all, her anguish echoing through the other singers, showing the mutual frustration between both parties.

There’s a desperate back and forth in their relationship, one that the singer fought for, and yet they found themselves on the receiving end of the breakup. Caught off guard by the cut off. They resent that their partner walked away first, in spite of them wanting to before. What else could it be but a betrayal?

They hope that their partner will regret it, that their blood will forever stain their hands. That one day they’ll regret walking away and find no enjoyment or joy in the break-up.

At the end there’s only resignation, this song and dance too exhausting to keep up. They’ve promised themselves before that they’d walk away once and for all and yet they didn’t. The desire to leave strong but not strong enough to drive the final nail in that coffin. So they simply repeat once and for all to themselves, and wait for the inevitable. If their partner returns, the cycle will continue once more.

Canary in a Coal Mine

Is there an image as evocative as the canary in the coal mine? The small beacon of light and song in the dreary dark, singing until the fumes threaten to choke it out. A warning to the miners who rely on it to leave before the carbon monoxide kills them too.

Here, the singer is the canary, trying to be the light in the dark as both of them try to heal from old wounds. Twin open graves that threaten to bury them alive in the dark. The black air and lungs indicative of those who toiled in the coal mines and lost their years to the toxins in the ground. The singer wonders if they’re the only one keeping their partner alive when their hope is gone.

But is that all that they are? Are they like the canary, only valuable as a warning sign that things have gotten too deadly to continue? They hope that this isn’t so. In reality, miners cared deeply for the birds that brought a piece of the outside world down into the depths but the imagery is one in popular culture that stands for a sacrifice. A lesser being meant to keep another safe.

So they keep trying to keep the other afloat, willing to take whatever empty promises they’re given if it means that their songs have meaning. That is enough. But what happens when the singer has nothing left to give? When the darkness claims them? Will their lover stay? Will their love’s recovery from the trauma that clings to them both like blackened dust in their lungs mean that they’ll turn around and help them too? Or will they be abandoned. A canary who can no longer sing.

They’ll keep burying themselves in the woes and worries of their partner, and hope that even if it kills them, it’ll be alright.

How to Rest

A song of healing, of recovering after a deep and unending hurt. It’s so easy to seclude oneself away from the world. Build a fortress around the heart and let no one inside out of the sheer terror that vulnerability will lead to pain once again. Trapped in the land of regrets and fear. It’s easy to convince oneself that this is safety and shelter, but it is a prison devoid of what makes life rich and full. This “sanctuary” has no light, no ambition to grow, no person to share in the highs and lows with. In spite of all the fear, you’ll leave that castle because what you yearn for, it’s stronger.

You wanted an escape from that prison, no matter what you told yourself.

And you’re not alone, so many people vow to try to never love again after their heart is broken. That they won’t need someone else to share their lives. But they’re making a liar of themselves in a vain attempt at comfort. The desire, the all too human desire, for companionship isn’t something that one can put away and forget about. Love doesn’t know how to rest. It seeks to make connections.

There isn’t any place where one can go to shelter away from the world at large, or from one’s own emotions. They’ll act sometimes without regard for what is wanted. It’s a childish notion to assume you can hide from them forever. Acceptance is the way forward.

And then there is the thesis: the heart is a muscle with a rhythm all its own. It won’t just stop, emotions don’t just stop, whether you want it or not. Life keeps going on, the heart wants to feel again and will do what it can to make that happen. It needs to survive too. Love is the only thing worth being alive for, and vowing to cut oneself off from that is just an act of harm in the long run.

A note, I personally am aroace, and the sentiment “Love is the only thing worth being alive for” carries a different meaning for me than it might for someone else. The way I interpret it in this song is that “love” is not purely romantic, it is the culmination of care and joy one can get from friends, from family, from passions, and so on. This isn’t strictly limited to one expression of how a person can care for another. Personally I’m more agnostic on the term “love” but it’s an individual thing.

At the end of the day this song is about opening yourself up to healing and moving on from times when we’ve been hurt and wounded. Retreating to lick one’s wounds is alright for a time, but you can’t stay there forever. Go out, and find a new hope in the world. 

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

Restoring the Roots (Joel Miller x Therapist! reader)

Chapter 4: Action

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 here | Chapter 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x therapist! reader, post outbreak

Rating: M, swearing, descriptions of trauma, descriptions of suicidal ideation, will be changed to explicit in future chapters (slow burn, eventual smut, age gap)

Word Count: 10.5K (buckle up with a snack y'all)

Summary: Life after moving to Jackson looks drastically different for Joel, survival mode is over and now he and Ellie can finally put down new roots. Ellie adapts easily but Joel finds himself struggling to settle into this new life, in more ways than some. At Ellie and Tommy’s insistence, Joel begrudgingly finds himself in therapy to try and work through his struggles but what he encounters is more than just painful memories and deeply rooted trauma.

A/N: It is finally here you guys! Finally! Life has been extremely fucking hectic and heavy lately but I wanted to persist with this story because I truly love it. Again, a heartfelt thank you to every single one of you that likes, reblogs, comments and encourages me with this little WIP. I'm still amazed that anyone at all wants to read my work, so thank you. A MASSIVE hug to my beta @serenaxpedro, for staying up with me, editing and providing feedback to me, and cheering me on as I contemplated how to best tell this story. You are my everything!!! This chapter is LONG, the longest by far lol. I couldn't bring myself to split it up because it didn't suit the flow of the story, so please enjoy our grumpy old man as he starts his first therapy session!

You pulled the collar of your vest up higher on the back of your neck, the brisk breeze sending a chill through you as you stood outside the horse paddock. One leg propped up on the fence as you fed a hose through it into the half empty water trough on the inside of the paddock. Winter in Jackson hadn’t been as rough as you were anticipating, life was a lot different during the harsher seasons when there was enough food to sustain the commune, and everyone had their own house to provide shelter from the elements. Although spring had made its appearance, you still felt winter’s remnants in the early mornings before the temperature warmed up, when there was frost on the ground and your breath fogged up in the air. You were finishing up some chores around the stables in between clients, meandering between the stables and the paddock, tossing a few hay bales over the fence for the horses, sweeping up the aisles. 

Despite the monotony of the everyday tasks, they never failed to bring you comfort amidst the hectic schedule that you maintained. While the office of the practice was cozy and welcoming, you always preferred being at the stables, around the horses. Nothing compared to the sounds of them munching away at their dinner, the sweet smell of their hay, or the sounds of their hoofbeats throughout the paddock. It was undoubtedly your happy place. 

This morning however, was different. It was Thursday morning, and no amount of tasks or chores could quell the growing nervousness you felt at possibly seeing Joel again today. You thought back to your meeting with him, recalling the warmth of his baritone voice, his sharp jawline, broad shoulders and endearing smile. You thought about him more times than you wanted to admit. It made your cheeks burn. His hardened exterior and gruffness were easy enough to spot from miles away, but the small cracks of vulnerability and softness that you saw in your first conversation intrigued you to no end.  It also broke your heart a little. 

His hazelnut eyes looked weary. Empty. Void of warmth for a long period of time. You could only imagine the horrors they had witnessed. You knew better than to fool yourself into thinking that you could fix him. No, you had long let go of that nonsensical notion. Believing you could fix anyone, fix their trauma, fix their nuances, it was a fool’s errand. Especially now, amidst the end of the fucking world as you and everyone else knew it. You knew that it was not your job to fix people, but rather help them. That was really it. You wanted to help Joel. Help him heal. Help him realize he was worthy of help. It was the same goal for all your clients of course, you only wanted to see their happiness, their small wins, their progression, but with Joel… that desire was much stronger. And you had only just met the man. 

Your ruminations were interrupted by a gentle shove and nibble against your arm resting on the fence. You looked up at the black muzzle in your face, chuckling at the inquisitive eyes of one of the herd members, Cole, a young jet black gelding, inspecting you in your dazed state.

“Sorry bud, I don’t have any treats on me right now.” You stroked the velvet skin of his muzzle as he persistently shoved at your hand. His nose peeked through the open gaps in the fence to reach your vest pockets, ears pricked forward. Usually you had treats handy for them every morning but you must have forgotten them in your absent minded state. You made a mental note to grab some sugar cubes from the feedroom in the barn when you were done watering. Suddenly, Cole jerked his head upright out of the fence, spooking and skittering off to the side of the paddock as you looked down to see the water trough spilling over, splashing all over the ground and onto your shoes.

“Shit!” 

You accidentally dropped the hose and clambered after it, the water pressure causing it to slither frantically back and forth across the ground. You managed to grab it near the opening and awkwardly bend the rubber in half, hoping that the kink would give you a split second to run back to the stables to turn off the tap. It did, but not first without spraying frigid water up against your neck and chest. 

“Fucking hell.” You gritted, as you jogged over to the stables and screwed the tap shut, still gripping the rubber bend tightly. You looked down at your shirt in dismay. The gray long sleeve was now drenched over your chest, the collar of your vest offering practically no protection as you felt the cold chill start to seep through your skin. 

‘Fuck. I could always call Tracey to bring me a spare shirt.’ You contemplated as you began to shiver. Just as you glance down at your watch to see if you had time to change, you hear your name being called softly from behind you. 

That warm, slightly raspy, deep baritone voice. 

Shit. Your breath hitched as you froze to the spot. 

You were anticipating him being late at least, if he actually did show. But currently, you are  cursing his punctuality and whatever powers that be for putting you in this scenario today of all days.

“Hey Joel!” You squeaked slightly as you turned around. Feeling another wave of shivers wash over your body, you dropped the hose and wiped your wet hands down the front of your jeans while walking over to him.

“You’re early,” you chuckled awkwardly as you tried to pull the sides of your vest closer together across your chest. Of course the vest you chose to wear this morning had a broken zipper. Of course.  

“Didn’t wanna make a bad impression for the first … y’know session. Plus, it’s pretty tough to get lost around here,” he replied with a nervous tight lipped smile.  It’s like you’re drinking in his appearance for the first time all over again, as if you forgot how fucking attractive he was in the days that passed after your initial meeting. Another shiver visibly runs through you as you try to squash down those lingering thoughts, now very aware of your soaked shirt against your chest and abdomen. Joel clocks your shivering as he steps a bit closer.

“Everything okay?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. You do a shitty job of hiding your discomfort but his gaze instantly drops down to your exposed chest, taking in the damp fabric clinging to your chest, a few droplets of water still running down your neck into your cleavage. He swallows slowly and averts his eyes.

You might as well be rusting from the inside because your voice continues to come out at a squeaky pitch.

“Yeah! Just my daily struggle with the hose while I was watering these guys. I am a sore loser this time around.” You chide yourself as you continue to pull at your open vest, only drawing more attention to your chest.

“You uh, do you want me to come back in a bit? If you wanna get changed into something else,” he clears his throat and tries to look anywhere else but your chest.

On any other day you normally wouldn’t care. If it was any other client you normally wouldn't care, and would deal with it later. But something about the way you catch his eyes briefly raking over your damp skin has your heart pounding in your chest. It also hit you at that moment that your nipples were probably visible through your shirt since bras were now obsolete and you weren’t wearing anything else underneath. 

Yeah. A change of clothes was definitely happening. 

“Uhm, I think I might go see if there’s anything in the barn here,” you jerked your head in the direction of the stable doors, “but you don’t have to leave. Just gimme a couple minutes and I’ll be back.”

“Sure no problem, take your time,” he replied. You gave him a small smile and ducked your head as you scurried away into the barn. Luckily, with how often you’re at the barn you do have spare clothes hung up in the tackroom for when you go riding. Flitting through the jackets and other dusty clothing on the hooks behind the door, you find a black pullover with a ¾ zip and a high collar. It’s thin and probably one size too small since you joined the commune and put on weight, but it’ll have to do the job. You peel the wet shirt off with a grimace and throw the pullover on, not before grabbing a handful of sugar cubes out of the jar on the tack shelf and shoving them into your back pocket. By the time you get back out to the paddock, Joel is leaning up against the fence, petting the horses.

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

By the time Thursday rolls around Joel’s nerves are shot to say the least. His fear, anxiety, and anticipation at seeing you again swirl together in a cocktail of restless energy. He tries to throw himself into odd jobs around the house, fixing the bannister on the porch, messing with the plumbing in the kitchen. Ellie of course clocks his silent tornadoeing through projects. She knew that when Joel was trying to put his mind off something, he would bury it under any and every excuse for work, any excuse   for providing, that he could. 

By the time she comes downstairs to leave for school Joel’s already in the kitchen, pouring his second cup of coffee. She wrinkles her nose and makes a beeline for the fridge, pulling out the box of eggo’s, popping two in the toaster beside him. 

“Ugh. That stuff still smells like shit, a year later. There’s no way it’s good for you,” she quips. She waits a beat and gives him a pointed look, waiting for him to start slurping it out of his mug at childish volume, like he always does. Except he doesn’t. He’s staring off into space as takes a sip, drumming his fingers on the counter. The bottom of his t-shirt is wet and his fingers have some kind of grease on them, and then she notices the open cabinet under the sink, tools strewn about across the floor. 

“What did you do to the sink now?” Ellie sighed and leaned against the counter beside Joel. He still doesn’t respond in his daze, his brows furrowed in concentration

 “Joel. Joelllllll.” She waved her hand in front of his face as he shook out of his trance. He grunted at her and frowned as she gestured to the mess on the floor.

“It was just a valve that needed tightening. Besides, what are you doing up this early?” 

“Uh it’s 9:03? I’m late for school??,” she raised an eyebrow at him, grabbing the eggo’s and sitting down at the table, shoving one into her mouth. “Did you also start taking apart the bannister upstairs? And the bedroom doors off the hinges?”

He grunted at her and as he proceeded to put the sugar jar in the fridge, and then the milk in the cabinet with the seasoning jars. 

“Okay dude what’s going on?” She looked at him with a bizarre expression. “I know I normally have to remind your senile ass of where stuff is around the house and what’s happening on certain days but you never start jobs around the house and not finish them. This is a whole other level of scatter brainedness”

“Nothin’s going on, I’m just trying to get this stuff done that I’ve been meaning to tackle for the last couple months. Figured I would get it done this morning, wait- you said it was 9:03? Shit.” He gulps down the rest of his coffee and dunks his mug in the sink, his right hand ghosting over his left wrist. To this day that damn watch doesn’t work, but he feels the lack of its weight around his wrist. 

He goes to move out of the kitchen but Ellie jumps up and blocks his path. Joel gives her an exasperated look and clenches his fists at his side.

“Ellie,” he half-heartedly warns her.

She raises an eyebrow at him and waits, a knowing expression plastered across her face as she takes another bite of her eggo. It’s the same expression she has when she teases him about being a fossil, the same expression when she tells him an insufferable pun from that joke book he pretends to despise, but secretly loves. 

Damn this kid for calling his bluff. 

“For crying out loud, alright. Alright. I went to see the therapist in town the other day. The one Tommy was talking about. We talked and I’m supposed to meet her at the stables this morning. Happy?!” He sighs and shifts his weight, putting his hands on his hips and looking up at the ceiling.

Her jaw drops and her eyes widen. “Holy shit, seriously?! Joel, that's awesome! I knew that was some pretty fucking amazing advice I gave you” she playfully shoves him with a shit eating grin. “Can I come with you please?! I wanna see the new foal again,” she pleads.

“Absolutely not, you’re already late for school, now go on.”

She rolls her eyes at him and shoves the rest of her eggo in her mouth, grabbing her backpack as she heads out the front door. 

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

When Joel arrives at the stables you’re distracted, which he’s somewhat grateful for. Cursing yourself with your back to him as he approaches the paddock. When you turn around and he clocks the soaked front of your shirt his throat goes dry. Your panicked expression, wide eyes, only fueling his dormant hunger as he watches droplets of water roll down the swell of your cleavage with each heavy rise and fall of your chest. He blinks a couple times and forces his gaze elsewhere, anywhere else.

Christ.

Could you make it any more difficult for him to maintain his morality? He’s somewhat grateful that he’s still wearing his bulky winter jacket that barely covers his crotch, as he feels his blood starting to rush south. 

Agreeing to this whole therapy idea was insane to begin with. 

Of course Joel was skeptical. Aside from the fact that he was not on the run anymore with Ellie, and no longer in danger, he didn’t see the merits of talking to someone about his problems, and shit that had happened in the past. It was in the past and it no longer affected him, therefore how could it really fix or address anything that was no longer a problem? Sure the consultation, or ‘meet and greet’ as you had affectionately referred it to, went well enough and Joel could feel the slightest softness melding away from his hardened exterior, but you were as much a stranger as the next person. He didn’t know you at all, and despite the warmth and amiability you exuded, and the comfort that washed over his system after your conversation, he was still hesitant as hell. 

Naturally, he tried to hide it, but that was pointless when Ellie instantly recognized his nerves getting the better of him that morning. He had held your conversation in the back of his mind as he ricocheted between tasks throughout the house over the next couple days leading up to Thursday. She was right as always though, the little devil. He saw things through till the end, and he knew all too well that he was starting to slip once he abandoned working on one project to start another. Good contractors don’t do that, and he prided himself on being a good contractor. One whom clients could rely on to not just get the job done, but get the job done well. He probably could have stayed in the house and continued his disastrous endeavors to fix shit that probably did not need fixing, but he surmised it was pointless once Ellie left for school. 

And so here he is, trying to get a grip on reality as he marvels at your appearance for the second time since your meeting. Not wanting to make things any more awkward, he walks over to the paddock where some of the horses are gathered as you change your clothes in the barn. 

Hearing your soft footsteps as you return, he looks over to see you in a tight, black pullover, that hugs you in all the right places, the zipper straining against your chest. You’re wearing dark wash jeans again that mold to the swell of your hips and your ass, and you’re sporting a baseball cap this time, your hair pulled into a ponytail. Joel’s mouth waters slightly as you approach him with that same warm smile. He itches to reach out and pull your body flush to his. You could be wearing a fucking potato sack for all he cares and you would still look cruelly appetizing he realizes. Before he can gawk any longer, he feels something tug at his sleeve, hard enough to jolt him out of his thoughts, and the tickle of whiskers and soft velvet brushing against his hand. He turns back to the fence to see a smaller black horse fussing with his coat. 

“Ahhh I see you have been targeted as the next culprit for treats,” you observe as you come to stand beside Joel at the fence. He huffs out a small chuckle as he pets the colt’s muzzle while avoiding getting nipped. 

“This is Cole, our resident mooch. He will do anything and everything for treats and he has a habit of forgetting his manners when he is around new people, isn’t that right?” You say in a playful stern tone as you look at Cole. 

“Are they usually so food driven?” Joel asks you as he watches the young gelding, who moved on from his sleeve to now start chewing at biting at the fence. He recalls when he goes out on patrol with Callum that the chestnut horse never seemed to fuss him with treats or food seeking behavior. He wouldn’t hesitate to stop and graze on the grassy plains when they are on their way home from patrol but he also listens to commands without needing motivation.

“Not always,” you respond, “horses are prey animals so they very much rely on their instincts, they will never turn down food if you offer it to them, but some are more food driven than others. You nod your chin towards Cole, “Cole here is one of our younger herd members, he’s only six, very much still a kid, so he just wants to play, eat and be mischievous overall. Isn’t that right monkey?” You smile and shake your head while booping the horse's snout, scratching the side of his face. Joel observes you intently and again gets lost in a trance as he views your affection for the horses shine through. The love you have for them is clear as day, and again he feels himself soften, as his respect and admiration for you increases.

“It’s his lucky day though,” you say as he watches you reach into your back pocket, pulling out a handful of sugar cubes. “Here,” you take a little more than half and reach out to Joel, dropping them into his palm. He feels the warmth of your skin as your fingers brush against his, your small hand barely containing a handful of sugar cubes, dwarfed by his much larger hands. You’re so much smaller than him, he thinks again as you look up at him brightly. 

Joel obliges as Cole already has half his face through the open fence, lips opening and closing as he reaches for the cubes in his hand. He greedily nibbles them up in less than 5 seconds, his soft muzzle and whiskers tickling Joel’s palm, as he continues to push at his hand, waiting for more cubes to magically appear. Joel chuckles warmly, “Sorry bud, that’s all I have for now,” brushing off his hands on his coat.

“Is Cole used in the therapy sessions?” He asks as he watches Cole walk away towards the other horses in the paddock, now disinterested with the lack of food. 

You chew your lip and squint your eyes slightly, “Not at the moment, he’s a bit too young to be incorporated into the therapy process. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, all horses bring a useful energy and perspective to the therapy, at the end of the day they are animals that will revert back to their base prey instincts, like spooking, defending themselves and looking for food to survive. But sometimes in order for the therapy to be effective, to complete certain exercises or observe patterns between the clients and horses, they need to have a certain level of commitment, trust and engagement with us. Cole would rather play and eat, and he loses concentration very quickly due to how young he is, it takes much longer to get him engaged and focussed so that the client can benefit from working with him. He’s a big suck though so it’s hard to stay cross with him.” 

You flash Joel a warm smile again, and by God if his heart doesn’t stutter every time you look at him like that. You look at him with hope, adoration, and a mutual understanding, almost as if you’ve known him for longer, in the life you both lived before this dystopia. He’s already nervous around you but it’s borderline uncomfortable, the faith with which you look at him, when you don’t really know him at all. He doesn’t deserve it. Doesn’t deserve your warmth. He’s sure if you knew half of the atrocities he has committed, you wouldn’t look twice in his direction. He’s also sure there are other people in Jackson with questionable morals who did things to survive, to make it from one day to the next, but Joel’s past rivals the shit he has seen in horror movies. Yet somehow worse than that. Horror movies that he would never let Sarah watch, even when she turned 15. How could someone who seems so pure, so hopeful, with such good intentions want to help those with blotted, mangled pasts? 

“If you don’t mind me askin’ how did you get into this therapy stuff?” He questions as he turns to face you, putting his hands in his coat pockets and leaning against the fence. 

You nod, smile at him again, “It’s totally okay. Everyone has an origin story, right?” You inhale softly and lean against the fence, mirroring his body language and looking out into the paddock. 

“I had just finished up grad school for social work when the world went to shit, but I didn’t have that many hours of practice under my belt, save for what I had done in internships and field placements. I did my undergrad in psychology which was good, but I yearned for more than just understanding the brain and our behavior, why we act and function the way we do, and so on.  Not to mention I was the friend in my friend group who people always came to with their problems, seeking advice and stuff.” You chuckled half heartedly.

“On a more serious note, before my last year of my grad school program, a cousin who I was very close to, took his own life. It ripped my family to shreds. No one saw it coming. The crazy thing is,” you pause and swallow, looking at Joel, “he was the happiest fucking person I knew.”

He watches you fiddle with the loose threads on the inside of your jean pocket and shift your feet, grinding the toe of your boot into the dirt. It’s unsettling to see your composure unravel bit by bit. It’s only the second time you are both meeting but as he watches you bite your lip, struggling to find the words, he feels the urge to comfort you. Reach out and touch your shoulder, grab one of your hands and squeeze it tight. Anything to help restore that confident demeanor, that warm smile to your gorgeous face.

“He lived such an ambitious life. He taught English to children in Korea, lived in the mountains of Colorado, rock climbing, and riding motorcycles.  He gave the best bear hugs, and was always trying to make others smile. He had the biggest heart… and yet he was suffering the deepest level of pain that no one could comprehend. Too much for him to comprehend.” You trail off and Joel can see your eyes start to get misty. 

You clear your throat and smile. “So many of us are suffering in silence and no one has any idea. I believe we all have an innate inner strength that can help pull us out of our anguished mental state, but sometimes we need someone, something, an outside perspective- whatever it might be, to show us that we can move forward and face our life’s challenges. I wanted to be that person to support others, and help them figure out how they can use their strength to get through it. 

You look out wistfully towards the horses and then back at Joel. “Maybe if my cousin had someone like that he would still be here. Truthfully, there are no words to describe how gratifying it is to see people cross those mental obstacles, gain more confidence in themselves, heal from their trauma and grow overall. It’s just very rewarding.” 

You huff out an exhale. “That was a long winded explanation, probably too long but that’s how I got into providing therapy,” you finish, pensively meeting his gaze.  

Joel’s brow is furrowed, his head tilted slightly as he remains captivated by your words. His eyes soften as he takes in your expression. There’s a hint of melancholy in your voice as your expressive eyes fail to hide the pain behind them.  There’s that feeling again, he notices. A softness. The embers of warmth emitting from his core as he sits with your pain. Hardness softening, yielding into empathy. You had suffered loss too, a suffering similar to what he had gone through. 

Before he realizes it, brief memories are flitting across his mind. Flash frames like a broken projector. Bloodied hands pressing against her wound, her agonizing cries, cradling her body in his arms. Dragging Ellie out of the capitol building, just in time before it combusted into flames and debris. Tess’s words echoing in his mind

Save who you can save.

His spine stiffens as he clenches his fists in his pockets. His feels his mouth going dry and the blood rushing in his ears. 

“Joel?” You’re looking at him with concern. “You still with me?”

He blinks a couple times and swallows, nodding. “Yeah, yeah I am. And I’m sorry for your loss. I, I appreciate you sharin’ that with me. Really”

“It was a long time ago but … thank you. And I know it’s easier to feel comfortable talking to someone about vulnerable things when they themselves are able to be vulnerable with you as well. It goes both ways.” You tell him earnestly.

Despite your reassurance, Joel’s mind is still reeling. He does a shitty job of hiding his dissociation, as you check in with him again. 

“Hey.” You duck your head slightly to catch his gaze again, his eyes flit nervously to yours.

 “You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to, Joel. Just because we had the consultation and you’re here, you don’t have to do this if you don’t feel like it’s for you. You can still back out if you want. It’s fully within your control. Do you still want to do this?”

Within his control. 

He plays those words over and over again in his mind. When was the last time anything was ever really in his control? Hell, he doesn’t even know what that word means anymore. Survival meant making choices, choices to ensure that you would be safe. That you would live to see another day. But choices did not mean you were in control. They oftentimes meant choosing the less shittier option to make the best of the situation. Choices sometimes meant being self-serving and using others as a means to survive, hurting others on purpose. He wasn’t in control when Tess died. Or when Sam and Henry died. Or when Ellie was taken from him. 

Does he want this? 

Every time he thought he was in control, he failed. Failed to protect, failed to provide, failed to prove himself. He didn’t want to invite those fucking feelings in again, but he also knew Tommy and Ellie were right. He couldn’t continue on this way if he wanted to have any semblance of a future in Jackson. Any semblance of a life. A life where he could live, not just to endure and survive.

Joel looks over at the horses, biting the inside of his cheek. They’re huddling contently under one of the shelters, a few laying down and a few grazing on the outskirts of the paddock. The breeze flowing through their mane’s and tails. And then he looks back at you. Into the depths of your bright, understanding eyes and your warm smile. 

“Let’s do it,” he says with a small smile.

—----------------------------------

Aside from the hazardous mishap with the hose this morning, and all other things considered, the morning seems to be going by smoothly. Not only did Joel actually show up, but he seemed to be doing a better job of calming your nerves, rather than you reassuring him. You don’t normally share your story about your cousin, you do explain to clients what got you into therapy as a way to be more relatable. A way to begin to carefully craft the therapeutic relationship between therapist and client. 

But with Joel, you wanted to share your pain with him. You knew he had suffered, regardless of the rumors and stories milling about in the community. You knew he was holding onto trauma, in his mind and body. It was evident when you saw him begin to dissociate. You were relieved to see however, that the more you shared, and the more you chatted, the more relaxed he became. He wasn’t avoiding your eyeline, looking everywhere else but you, and he wasn’t stumbling over his words. His body language was actually open, you observed, as he directly faced you with his hands in his pockets, nodding along as you spoke, focusing on your eyes. 

Your heart felt just about ready to soar out of your chest, as you tried not to smile too hard when he reaffirmed his consent for the therapy. They were all baby steps. Incremental, but significant to the process and you were thrilled. Almost still skeptical that he came this far. 

You explain a few more housekeeping things before stepping into the paddock with him. Details like confidentiality, and basic horse safety, but since he was already comfortable riding on patrol, it was pretty straightforward. 

Joel visibly perks up when you enter the paddock as he takes in the herd and the mountains in the background. The horses too are bemused by your presence, as they look in your direction, observing the both of you.

“So what happens first?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Do I just pick one?” 

 Callum instantly catches his eye as he scans the herd. The chesnut gelding is hard to miss, aside from his unmistakable white blaze running down his face, he’s also one of the taller horses.

You notice Joel’s recognition of Callum and chuckle, just as Callum looks over to you both and begins walking in your direction. “That would be far too easy, seeing as it appears that you already have a friend in the herd.”

The large gelding nickers quietly and steps closer as Joel reaches out to him. “Hey there bud, how’s it going?” He speaks softly, patting the side of Callum’s neck as he leans his face in closer to Callum’s, running his hand down his blaze. “You behaving since our last ride?” Joel grins as he looks from the horse’s large deep set eyes to you.

“Callum’s been my patrol partner for a few shifts now. He’s a good one. Smart as a whip and he gets the job done.” Joel continues to pet him with a smile of adoration on his face.

Fuck.

If you thought you were prepared to see Joel interact with the horses, you were sorely mistaken, you now realize. His interactions with Callum are precious and you’re endeared by how his demeanor softens around the large gelding. You almost wish you could let him do the session with Callum but their pre-existing relationship would make it less effective, and you tell him as much.

“It looks like you have a great bond with Callum already, I can see that in how he came over to you. He’s quite relaxed” You nod towards Callum as he lowers his head and softly chews his lips.

“It’s great to see,” you reassure him, “but I’m curious to see you interact with someone you don’t already know. Callum is actually the herd leader. He’s always looking out for the others, maintaining the hierarchy, and protecting the others when threats arise. It’s interesting you get along with him well.” You hum noncommittally as you point out the parallel and take a step back to observe him and Joel. 

Joel raises his eyebrows, his eyes soft. “Really? I didn’t know that. I just figured he was one of the older horses here, so maybe he had more experience than the others?” He furrows his brows and looks back at Callum.  

“He is older than some of the others here but he doesn’t have that much experience with being on patrol, surprisingly. He’s only been used in the past year or so, but it seems he has the right demeanor for it.” You continue with a knowing look, “it’s possible that you have a strong bond with him because of those traits. Being a leader and protecting others.”

At that statement, Joel's eyes flit to yours. Something akin to recognition flashes across his eyes. Recognition mixed with a guarded fear. 

“That’s a good thing,” you quickly point out, “but to experience the effectiveness of equine therapy, any kind of therapy really, you have to get out of your comfort zone. And Callum is part of that comfort zone right now. Why don’t we let him go and see the rest of the herd?”

Joel nods and gives Callum one final pat, “I’ll see you later bud.”

You gesture for him to walk further with you into the center of the paddock. Most of the horses are standing around the round hay bale in the middle. A few walk over, and continue past you both, glancing your way.

“Now, most of these guys know me cause I feed them almost everyday, so I’m going to step off to the side, and let you be with them. We’ll see who approaches and chooses you,” you conclude with a wink. 

Walking a few steps away from Joel, you clasp your hands behind your back, slightly amused at how lost he looks. His broad figured presence is powerful amongst the majestic animals, but his uncertainty and lack of confidence gives away his control. He walks further into their space and the herd parts like the Red Sea, most of the horses walking around and past him. Not even Cole approaches with the promise of more sugar cubes. Joel turns back to look at you, waiting for your cues and shrugs. You bite your lip to keep your smile from stretching across your face and gesture for him to keep going. Giving you a skeptical look, he proceeds further till all but one horse remains in his path. 

He slows to a complete halt, as he sees a smaller mare standing just ahead of him. She’s a pinto, with white and brown patches all over her body. She’s small height wise, at least a foot shorter than Callum, but certainly not small width wise, as he observes her wide belly protruding out from her sides. She stands facing Joel head on, with both front legs planted squarely, tail swishing erratically at the flies around her. She looks slightly to the side and Joel notices her right eye is blue. Almost human-like and a tad sinister, when viewed from the side. He also notices that she has a good chunk missing out of her right ear, the same side with the blue eye. 

She continues to face him, an unimpressed expression on her long face.

“It looks like Gracie wants to stick around,” you call out to him.

Gracie, huh?

Joel appraises the mare and decides to take one small step towards her. Gracie lifts her head slightly, her ears swiveling back and forth, as she shifts her weight from one back foot to another. 

He continues to take another step forward, bigger this time, placing him within a few feet of the mare. She instantly pins her ears to the back of her head, and snorts, as she walks away, her blue eye fixed on Joel. She doesn’t walk far, save for a few steps, but Joel turns back to you and says, “I don’t think so. She doesn’t seem that impressed with me.”

You bite your lip hard, trying not to give him a patronizing smile. But you can’t help it upon seeing his cute puzzled expression. Trying to exercise your poker face, you reassure him. “She doesn’t know you. To her, you are a stranger, as she is to you. What would be your natural reaction to a stranger approaching you?”

Joel frowns slightly as he contemplates your words, before he turns back to the disinterested mare. He grinds his lower jaw, the fingers on his right hand twitching as he appraises Gracie. “I would be guarded too I suppose.”

You encourage him a bit more. “Maybe try a different method to approach her. She might be more receptive if you can show her you’re not a threat.”

This time Joel walks around to Gracie’s far side, taking a few trepid steps towards her neck, and slowly reaching his hand out, palm facing up. She turns her head slightly towards him, her left ear swiveling in his direction. She stretches her neck out the slightest bit. He waits a beat, then continues to approach her slowly. You hear him coaxing her, “Easy there girl. I’m just coming over to say hello.” 

He continues to talk to her softly as he approaches her side. Amazingly, Gracie lowers her head to his outstretched palm, sniffing and tickling his hand with her whiskered muzzle.  A swell of pride surges up within you as you watch Joel murmur to the small mare, gently stroking her neck. “There you go. Nothing to be afraid of huh?” 

He looks at you with a tentative smile as you walk over to them. “Joel, that was amazing!” You praise him excitedly. “What were you thinking the second time around as you went up to her?”

“Uhm. I don’t know if I’m honest,” he looks contemplatively at Gracie, focusing on her brown one eye. “I guess I figured if she sniffed me, or heard my voice or somethin’, she’d feel more comfortable with me.” 

You nod eagerly as he explains his thought process to you. Naturally, you didn’t expect Joel to open up right away given that it was his first session. Hell, you didn’t expect him to show up at all. The fact that he was here, engaging with you and Gracie, was significant in and of itself. He was still learning to trust you, trust Gracie, and trust the process of therapy in general. Being mindful of this, you refrained from asking him too many questions, or probing his inner reflections. You were just as much concerned about spooking him as you were when interacting with the horses. 

“You did all the right things,” you reassure him. “Horses are always assessing their environment for threats, so when we speak to them as we approach them, and allow them to see us in their eyesight, they can more easily perceive us as safe.” 

“Not to mention, you also switched sides when you approached her,” you point out to him. 

He replies, “Yeah. Her other side. The side with the blue eye, seems more… I don't know. She seems more nervous with that side.”

You smile and hum as you reach out to brush the hairs from Gracie’s forelock out from her eyes. Sensing the question on Joel’s lips before he asks it, you explain to him. “It’s hard to miss, her ear on her right side. Unfortunately, Gracie was in a horrible accident almost a year ago. The farm she came from, they had a barn fire, and not all of the horses made it out.” 

You pause and sigh. “Sadly, her foal was one of them. She ran back into the barn after being evacuated to try and rescue her little one but it was too late. Her head collar got stuck on an exposed beam in the barn aisle way and it ripped a chunk out of her ear when she tried to escape.” 

Joel’s mouth gapes open, his brows drawn together as he slowly stops petting her neck. “Jesus Christ.” He looks at you and back at Gracie in disbelief with his big brown eyes.

He swallows and waits a beat, before he pensively asks, “she lost her baby?” 

Although he doesn’t say it as a question, more so as a statement to himself. A confirmation. 

You grimace slightly. “Yeah. The foal was only about a month old, poor thing. When Gracie arrived here she wasn’t interested in anything. We had given up hope that she would even want to eat or go out in the paddock with the other horses. At one point she just resigned herself to the corner of her stall in the barn, and would attack anyone who came near her stall door. It took a while for her to get acclimatized to Jackson, and even longer for her to build trust with us.”

Joel’s brows are furrowed as he looks at Gracie, a serious expression plastered across his face. To anyone else it might seem like he was mad or grumpy. But you notice how his focus zeroes in on her. There’s intention behind his gaze, something you can’t quite put your finger on. He grunts in acknowledgement but doesn’t say anything. 

Interesting. You make a mental note of his response for later.

“Well, it looks like your partner has picked you, Joel. Why don’t we go into the round pen with Gracie and do some more one-on-one work with her?”

You clip a lead rope to Gracie’s halter, and hand it to Joel, trusting him to walk her out of the paddock into the adjacent round pen. 

Following them into the pen, you close the gate behind you and clap your hands together. “Alright, now that you have your partner, let’s try a small exercise shall we?” 

You walk up to Joel and unclip the lead rope from Gracie’s halter, taking the lead rope from him. Your fingers brush against his and you can’t help but relish in the warmth of his hands during the brief touch. They may be calloused but his fingers are soft, thick and long, you don’t miss the veins running through the backs of his hands either. You feel the heat running through your body as you imagine his fingers elsewhere before snapping back to reality.

Nope. Stop it. Concentrate.

You clear your throat and quickly take a few steps back, nearly tripping over yourself in the process. Upon realizing she wasn’t tethered to Joel anymore, Gracie walks away from him, flanking the perimeter of the pen. 

“Okay, this exercise is about communication, nonverbal communication to be specific, and trust,” you explain to Joel. “Let’s see if you can get Gracie to follow you around the pen, without holding onto her headcollar, or leading her with the lead rope.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you with skepticism, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I know, I know, it sounds impossible” you raise your hands at him, trying to appease him. “But sometimes we have to use other methods of communication when we don’t always have the usual tools or resources available to us. This will build trust and strengthen your relationship with her.” You give him an encouraging smile and fold your hands behind your back, still holding the lead rope. 

Joel turns to observe Gracie as she lazily grazes on the grass in the center of the pen. You can see that he is lost, his body language hesitant again as he is unsure of what to do. 

“I doubt I’ll be able to,” he calls over his shoulder, “she seems to have a stronger relationship with the grass at the moment.”

You don’t succeed in stifling the snort that escapes your nose, as you look down at the ground and shake your head. Despite what Joel presented as, namely, a hulking, intimidating, capable man, his self doubt penetrated the cracks of his facade, beyond the depths of his core.

Many clients encountered resistance or setbacks in their first couple interactions with the horses. But Joel was alarmingly quick to discount his abilities, submitting himself to self-deprecation. It made your heart ache for him. He was experienced in his horse handling skills, far more experienced than many other people in the settlement, and yet his confidence faltered quickly.  

This man, who had likely been through hell and back in his previous life, who contributed to the community, who exuded warmth despite his brokenness, deserved to feel confident. He deserved to believe in himself. You wanted to grab him by his massive shoulders and shake him like a ragdoll. Remind him of his capabilities, remind him of his worth.

“Remember what you thought about when you approached Gracie in the paddock?” You remind him carefully. “It’s the same idea here. She’s only just met you. You have to give her a reason to trust you and follow your lead. Start there first and everything else will fall into place.”

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

Joel had to admit, you were right. This didn’t feel like therapy at all really. It felt like he was just spending quality time with the horses and getting to know them. He’s surprised to realize he hasn’t stopped to think about the disaster of unfinished projects he left at the house, or Ellie at school, or when his next patrol shift is. Your presence is unreasonably calming as you explain the exercise to him, encourage him with the horses, and give him space and patience to just be. 

Sometimes it’s a bit too much space though. He chides himself internally at the longing he feels when your hands brush against his as you grab the lead rope from him, or when you take a few steps away from him to observe. It’s unnerving Joel realizes. That he is already starting to crave your presence near him, your reassurance and encouragement. It’s when you go silent and let him take control, or make a decision, that he starts to feel uncomfortable. Like a fish out of water, he feels out of touch with exercising any kind of authority. But he also doesn’t know how to handle his interactions with Gracie without your guidance. 

He also was not prepared to work with a horse that he didn’t know. The tiny mare seemed irritable by his presence at first. From what Joel knew about horses, and his time going out on patrol with Callum, they needed a strong leader. Someone to lead, and make decisions on behalf of everyone else, for the safety of the herd. Naturally, he approached Gracie with the same gusto but she didn’t take too kindly to that strategy. 

He observes the mare as she grazes on the grass on the perimeter of the pen, your words echoing in his mind.

Give her a reason to trust you.

When you explained Gracie’s past to Joel, he was shocked. He wondered if she might have been abused, judging by her right ear, and her overall behavior, but nothing could have prepared him for the real horrors of her past. Barely escaping with her life and losing her foal. 

He clenches his teeth together and flexes his jaw, feeling his blood run cold. Anxiety washes over his body as he thinks about her loss. Her suffering.  

Why in her right mind would she trust anyone? Why should she give her trust to anyone? 

He gets lost in the rabbit hole of grief as it consumes him. His composure begins to unravel. You must notice this as you call out to him.

“Joel? Everything okay?”

He turns his head slightly to the side, acknowledging you with a nod but not fully turning around. With his jaw set, he walks over to Gracie with heavier footsteps and his shoulders raised. The heel of his boots driving into the ground as he strides up to her. 

Before he can even get halfway to her, the mare jerks her head up from the ground and abruptly trots in the opposite direction, away from him with her ears pinned against her head. His chest heaves with a huff as he exhales and looks back to you. But again, you don’t give him any clues, throw him any freebies, or give him any direction. 

“Try again,” you say to him softly. A neutral expression plastered across your features.

That’s another thing. Joel is irritated that can’t get a read on you when he looks at you expectantly, clueless as to what to do next. Your sporadic tidbits of guidance or feedback are not always given freely. He needs to know what he is doing wrong, or what he is doing right. That is, if he is doing anything right at all. Your neutrality is unnerving and it only builds his frustration. 

All of a sudden that control he was too hesitant to take hold of, looms over him like a giant storm cloud swallowing up the Texan sun. Out of his reach, yet all consuming at the same damn time. 

Nope, he doesn’t like it one bit. 

He tries a few more times to approach Gracie with no avail, as the pinto mare continues to retreat from his proximity, remaining on the outskirts of the pen. Joel grinds his jaw and puts his hands on his hips, his gaze narrowing at Gracie. 

“It’s no fuckin use, she’s made up her mind about me,” he grumbles as he turns to walk back over to you. His heavy footsteps scuffing up the dirt as he drags his feet. 

“How can you be so sure? You got her to let her guard down moments ago.” You raise an eyebrow at him playfully with a knowing look. He grunts in response and frowns at you. 

“That was a misnomer, beginner’s luck,” he mutters, looking at the ground. He crosses his arms, dejection rolling off of him in waves.

“Can you tell me what you were thinking when you approached her?” Your warm attentive eyes search throughout his face, patiently waiting for his answer. 

Joel looks over to the temperamental mare, who’s now stopped grazing, standing off to the far side, with her eyes slightly closed. He purses his lips and closes his eyes. As they remain closed, images of Sarah’s sweet smile, expressive eyes and mop of curls cloud his mind. He can still hear her giggle when she would crack a joke at him about being old. He can still feel her small body curled into his, when she would pass out on him in the middle of movie night. Joel inhales sharply and slowly opens his eyes.

“I was thinkin’ about how she lost her foal…thinkin’ about what she went through with the fire… I don’t know, I felt angry that’s all.” He states plainly in a gruff tone. 

He bites the inside of his cheek as his gaze meets yours. He waits for you to recoil from his bluntness, retreat from his hard demeanor. Only, you don’t.

Instead, you give him a soft smile and nod. “There’s no right or wrong answer Joel, remember? You’re empathizing with her. Empathy is a good thing, but sometimes when we empathize too much with the pain that others are experiencing, it impacts our ability to communicate with them. We got lost in their pain, their frustration, their anger. All of the heavy emotions.”

He tilts his head to the side as he takes in your words, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Gracie is picking up on the energy you’re putting down,” you calmly explain to him. “Remember, horses are prey animals, so by default they are highly attuned to their environment, and the emotional state of others around them. It’s how they survive. She interpreted your anger and frustration as a threat to her safety.”

That does make sense, the more that he thinks about it. 

He should know better, he tells himself. He’s been out on patrol enough times to know that the instincts which the horses possessed were extremely valuable when it came to tracking down infected, or raiders that encroached on the settlement territory. He recalls a particular patrol shift where Callum was uncharacteristically distracted for the better part of their evening, persistently pulling Joel in towards the forested area that flanked the south of the commune borders. Joel eventually gave into the gelding’s frantic energy as he snorted and trotted further into the forest clearing to see a lone clicker weaving in and out of the trees. He swiftly aimed his sniper rifle at the infected, his gaze narrowing through the scope, as he pulled the trigger, the body dropping to the ground with a single shot. He never questioned the gelding's intuitive behavior after that moment.

Suddenly, Joel feels very embarrassed for being so thoughtless and brazen in the first place.  Couldn’t you tell him these things beforehand so that he doesn’t end up making a fool of himself? 

“It’d be a whole lot easier if you could tell me these things darlin’, so I know what to expect,” he says with a slight smirk, folding his arms across his chest. 

Your expression falters for a second as your eyes flit across his arms, and he sees you blush slightly. You regain your composure quickly and mirror his body language, crossing your arms over your chest and popping your right hip out.

“Again, that would be way too easy. Where’s the fun in that?” You tip your chin up at him and smile, almost as if you were challenging him.

“Besides, this isn’t about getting it right the first time! It’s your first session. You’re still learning about Gracie, as she is learning about you. Don’t be so hard on yourself Joel. You’re doing a good job, really.” You reach out, placing your palm on his arm, a hopeful smile on your beautiful face. 

His breath hitches as he feels the heat emanating from your small hand on his bicep. Despite the thickness of his bulky winter coat, your touch bleeds through his clothing, sending warmth throughout his body, an electric current running through his veins. He feels his pulse start to pick up just as you quickly drop your hand and take a step back from him, looking down at the ground. 

Joel inhales sharply. 

It’s devious really, how much he enjoys seeing you affected by his presence, his touch. You look sinful when you’re flustered, peering up at him with those doe eyes. His fingers dig deeper into his biceps as he tries to ground himself, pushing down lingering thoughts of the image of you looking up at him from your knees.

“Uhm, okay,” you stammer, trying to regain that effortless composure, “let’s try it again, but this time I want you to be mindful of your energy. Think about your body language, and your breathing as you approach her.”

You take a few more steps back and away from Joel and he nods, turning to Gracie’s direction. He’s amused to find her pointedly standing with her bum facing him, her head peeking over the fence of the pen.

Yeah he probably deserved that.

Okay. Body language and breath, he reminds himself. 

Steeling himself, Joel walks over to the mare, his steps laced with apprehension as he approaches her left side. Her ears swivel backwards in his direction and she raises her head. Joel pauses, waiting a beat to gauge her reaction, then continues his slow strides until he’s less than 3 feet from her. He repeats his actions from before, reaching his left hand out with his palm facing up. 

“Hey Gracie girl,” Joel says in a soothing tone as he continues to approach her. Gracie fixes him with her brown eye and snorts, letting out a large puff of air, still looking over the fence. 

Joel comes to a stop just short of her left shoulder, his palm still outstretched towards her.

“I know, I’m just a stranger. I know you don’t trust me, I get it.” Joel doesn’t even realize what he’s saying in the moment, but he continues to ramble and say whatever comes to mind, in the hopes of reassuring the moody little mare. “But I want you to trust me. I’m not gonna hurt ya. I want to trust you too. What do you think?” He continues in a deep, soft lilt.

After a few moments, Gracie turns her head to him, and stretches out her neck to sniff his waiting palm. He holds his breath for a few seconds, and much to Joel’s surprise she starts to chew her lips and lick his palm slowly. He lets out a long exhale and the corners of his lips quirk into a small smile. 

“There you go. Atta girl.” Joel continues to praise her soothingly, bringing his other hand up to her neck as he begins to pet her.

He steps up closer to Gracie’s body and begins petting her in long strokes. From her neck down to her shoulder, from her shoulder up and across her back, and down her tummy.  Her body hair is short and soft, almost silky smooth. His fingers trace the small swirls of hair in her coat, where the hair grows in opposite directions, and Gracie slowly relaxes, lowering her head and closing her eyes slightly. As he runs his hand over the wide swell of her belly, he pauses, and rests his hand there. Feeling her broad ribcage expand and contract with each breath she takes. ago. 

“When did you say that she lost the foal again?” He calls out to you without looking away from the mare.

“About nine months ago I believe,” you reply back to him, “she’s still holding onto some of the baby weight as you can see, despite her refusal to eat when she first came here.”

Joel hums to himself, his brow furrows and his lips slightly parted as he continues to gently pet her around the middle. Gracie turns her head, looking back at him momentarily. He gazes into the depth of her wide brown eye, the amber hues reflected in the light.  

He feels his throat start to constrict as he looks to her wide belly. Empty, but still glaring with the reminder of what she lost.

Joel doesn’t know what possesses him to do what he does next, but he almost feels like he’s in a trance. Running on autopilot. He shuffles even closer to her side, and rests his head on her back, almost draping himself over her side. Luckily she’s short enough that he doesn’t have to stand on his tip toes, it almost feels like he’s resting his chin on the head of someone a couple inches shorter than him. He continues running his hands up and down the swell of her tummy slowly, feeling his chest and his arms being pushed up and out with each deep breath she takes. 

Think about your breathing.

Joel allows himself this moment and closes his eyes. He gets lost in the rhythm of Gracie’s breathing. No sooner than that, does he realize that he is matching her every inhale and exhale in time with his own breaths.

A few minutes pass and Gracie shakes her head, stomping her hind foot and snorting as she shakes off flies. Joel opens his eyes and jerks his head up, already raising his hands in anticipation that she will take off again. Only she doesn’t, she remains with him.

Remembering the task you gave him, Joel gives her one last pat on the neck. “What do you say we go for a walk huh? C’mon girl.” as he slowly turns away from her and begins walking towards you. He doesn’t look back to see if she follows, but he does walk at a slower pace as he makes his way back to you. 

Your poker face fails you this time as your smirk stretches into a huge grin. Suddenly, you abruptly hold your hand up to stop him in his tracks before he can reach you.

With a quizzical expression on his face, Joel quirks an eyebrow at you. You gesture at him to wait for a few seconds. So he calmly waits, his hands by his sides, fingers twitching in anticipation. After a minute or so, Joel hears the soft thudding of hoofbeats against the dirt, feels a puff of warm air against the back of his left shoulder, tickling his ear. His face slowly breaks into a triumphant smile that matches yours, as he slowly turns to see the little mare contentedly standing behind him.

You wordlessly step to the side, out of his path and motion for Joel to continue walking. A bright smile still plastered on your face as you watch them together.

He walks around the outskirts of the round pen, adjusting his long strides and allowing Gracie to catch up with him. He does a few laps and then he stops. Much to his surprise, Gracie stops alongside him. He changes direction and walks the other way, experimenting with stopping in his tracks again, as she remains by his side. A few laps go by when Joel realizes you haven’t said anything in a while. He looks to you for confirmation and you nod to him, gesturing for him to meet you in the middle of the pen. He confidently strides over to you and sheepishly smiles once more when he feels Gracie’s muzzle nibble at the back of his shoulder. A small chuckle escapes him, his dimple peeking through his smile. 

He turns around and runs his palm down her face, from her forehead to her muzzle. He whispers to her softly, “Hey there baby girl. There you are.”

Taglist: @beskarandblasters, @pr0ximamidnight, @theewokingdead, @atinylittlepain, @prolix-yuy, @swiftispunk, @harriedandharassed, @amywritesthings, @missgurrl, @silkiers, @jasminedragoon, @mayasopinions, @pedgeitopascal, @elegantduckturtle, @sarahhxx03, @Snow30285, @gracie7209, @stevieboyharrington, @kirsteng42, @pedrit0-pascalit0, @loquaciousferret, @axshadows, @a-sh-lyn, @dotcie, @pedritosdarling, @lhymer1995, @nerdreader, @suzmagine, @like-a-dirty-french-novel, @delicious-collection, @serenaxpedro, @iamasaddie, @javiscigarette, @spooky-nob, @mxtokko, @axshadows, @sn1peraj, @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff, @javiscigarette, @wannab-urs, @cloverhasnobrain,

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Legacy of Fire (IV)

Chapter Four: Bond in Silence

Summery: Escape was not easy nor was it impossible.

Warnings: Cursing, death by sword, death by fire, death by hanging, war, humiliation, betrayal, violence, use of the word bastard, incest, angst, fluff, burning, threatening, future smut, P in V, fingering, cunnilingus, scissoring, blowjob, handjob, anal sex, girl x girl, boy x girl, boy x boy, dragons

Word Count: 1,6K

Bound and confined, Vaeloria, Lara, and Ser Ian faced a new challenge as their captor, Darron, remained vigilant. Yet, despite their dire circumstances, their spirits remained unbroken, and their determination to escape only grew stronger.

In the hushed confines of their captivity, the trio communicated in whispered dialogue, their voices barely rising above a murmur, as they navigated the treacherous path ahead.

Vaeloria, her voice a mere breath, asked, “Ser Ian, do you think there’s any chance of overpowering Darron?”

Ser Ian, his gaze fixed on their captor who remained on guard, replied in a quiet tone, “It’ll be difficult, my lady. He’s watchful, and we’re still weakened from the effects of the milk of the poppy.”

Lara, ever the voice of reason, added, “We need a plan, something that catches him off guard.”

Vaeloria nodded in agreement. “Agreed. We’ll need to be patient and wait for the right moment.”

As they continued their whispered dialogue, their bond grew stronger, and the legacy of House Targaryen served as a silent reminder of their resilience. In the face of adversity, their unity and unwavering determination would guide them towards freedom, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead.

In their hushed whispers, Vaeloria, Lara, and Ser Ian formulated a daring plan to escape their captor and secure the means to continue their journey through the unforgiving desert.

Ser Ian, his voice barely audible, outlined their strategy. “We’ll need to wait for a moment when Darron’s guard is down. When he least expects it, we strike.”

Vaeloria nodded in agreement. “And once we’ve incapacitated him, we’ll steal his horses and supplies. They’re our only chance out of here.”

Lara, her voice filled with determination, added, “We can’t afford to fail. Our lives, depend on this escape.”

As they finalized their plan in hushed whispers, their unity and shared purpose became more evident than ever. The legacy of House Targaryen would serve as their guiding light through the darkness of their captivity, leading them towards freedom and the uncertain future that awaited them in the relentless desert.

Ser Ian, with a plan forming in his mind, leaned in closer to Vaeloria and Lara. In hushed whispers, he explained, “We need to create a distraction to catch Darron off guard. Vaeloria, pretend you’ve fallen sick. Lara, act concerned.”

Vaeloria, though hesitant, understood the necessity of the ruse. She lowered her head and feigned weakness, her voice trembling as she muttered, “I don’t feel well, Ser Ian. My head is spinning.”

Lara, playing her part, added with a convincing tone of concern, “We need Darron’s help. He has some supplies that could ease your discomfort.”

Their performance drew Darron’s attention. Suspicion flickered in his eyes as he approached cautiously. “What’s going on here?”

Ser Ian, his bound hands concealing his true intent, responded with urgency. “My lady is unwell. We need your assistance, Darron.”

Darron’s sinister grin returned, thinking he had the upper hand. “Seems like your journey has taken its toll. Let me take a look.”

As Darron leaned in closer, Vaeloria’s acting grew more convincing. She moaned softly, feigning distress.

With a sudden burst of strength, Ser Ian, despite his restraints, lunged forward, catching Darron off guard. Their struggle was fierce and desperate, with Ser Ian determined to overpower their captor.

As the scuffle continued, Darron’s surprise turned into rage. “You treacherous fools! You won’t escape!”

Amidst the commotion, Lara seized the opportunity, grabbing a nearby object and striking Darron from behind. The blow stunned their captor, and Ser Ian’s final, powerful strike incapacitated him.

Their hearts raced as they looked at each other with a sense of triumph. In their hushed and hurried dialogue, they realized they had taken the first step towards freedom.

As they continued their escape, Ser Ian, ever watchful, searched through the stolen supplies, hoping to find something that might aid them further. To his astonishment, he stumbled upon a set of keys among the assorted items.

With a sense of urgency, he examined the keys and realized that they were the very keys to unlock their chains. The discovery filled him with a mixture of relief and anticipation.

With whispered excitement, he said to Vaeloria and Lara, “I’ve found the keys. We can remove these chains.”

Their eyes widened with hope as Ser Ian unlocked Vaeloria’s restraints first, freeing her from the burdensome chains. Vaeloria, once unchained, wasted no time in assisting Lara, who had been nursing her bruised wrists.

As Lara’s chains fell away, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Ser Ian. We owe you our freedom.”

Ser Ian’s response was filled with determination. “Our freedom is just the beginning. We’ll continue our journey to uncover the secrets of House Targaryen.”

Their unspoken feelings of gratitude and unity grew stronger as they rode on, now unburdened by chains and more determined than ever to face the challenges that lay ahead in the relentless desert.

Vaeloria whispered, “We have to act quickly. Let’s steal his horses and supplies.”

Ser Ian nodded, the weight of their bound hands not dampening their determination. “Our legacy will guide us through this. We’ll make our escape, no matter the odds.”

In the aftermath of their successful ploy, their whispered dialogue carried the promise of a brighter future as they prepared to seize the opportunity that lay before them in the relentless desert.

As they moved quickly to seize their chance for escape, their whispered dialogue continued.

Lara, her voice filled with urgency, whispered, “Ser Ian, we must be swift and thorough. The desert offers us no second chances.”

Ser Ian, his eyes scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger, responded in hushed tones, “Agreed, Lara. We’ll take the horses, supplies, and anything else of value. It’s our only way out of here.”

Vaeloria, her resolve undiminished despite her earlier act, added, “And once we’re free, we’ll continue our journey to find Jon Snow and uncover our family’s secrets.”

With each whispered word, their unity and determination shone brightly, a testament to their unbreakable bond and the legacy of House Targaryen that guided them through the darkness of their captivity.

Working together, they liberated the horses and gathered the supplies they would need for their journey through the unforgiving desert. The weight of their bound hands was no match for the strength of their shared purpose, and they moved with a sense of purpose and urgency towards the uncertain future that awaited them beyond the cottage walls.

As they swiftly gathered supplies and prepared to make their escape, Vaeloria couldn’t help but reflect on the perilous journey that lay ahead. In a hushed whisper, she said to her companions, “Our path forward will be fraught with danger, but we cannot falter. The legacy of House Targaryen is our guide.”

Lara, her voice determined, responded, “We’ve come this far, and we’ll see it through to the end. Together.”

Ser Ian, still bound but resolute, added, “We are bound by duty and loyalty. House Targaryen’s legacy is our strength, and it will carry us through.”

Their whispered dialogue was a testament to their unwavering commitment to each other and to the legacy they carried. With stolen horses and vital supplies in tow, they were ready to embark on the next chapter of their journey through the relentless desert, united by a shared purpose and the unbreakable bond of their resolve.

As they continued their escape on stolen horses through the harsh desert terrain, a small misstep caused Lara to lose her balance. With a gasp, she twisted her ankle, wincing in pain as she tried to regain her footing.

Ser Ian, always vigilant, quickly dismounted and rushed to her side, his concern evident in his eyes. He knelt beside her, gently examining her injured ankle. “Lara, are you alright? You’ve twisted your ankle.”

Lara winced and nodded, a mix of pain and frustration in her voice. “I’ll be fine, Ser Ian. It’s just a minor twist.”

Despite her attempt to downplay the injury, Ser Ian’s worry remained palpable. He carefully helped her back onto her horse, ensuring she was comfortable before remounting his own.

Their escape continued, but as they rode through the unforgiving desert with Lara favoring her injured ankle, Ser Ian’s protective instincts came to the forefront. He couldn’t help but show a sliver of romantic feelings as he whispered softly to Lara, “You need to be careful, Lara. I couldn’t bear to see you hurt.”

Lara met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a hint of gratitude, but she quickly responded in a tone of camaraderie, “Thank you, Ser Ian. We’re in this together, and I know we’ll overcome any obstacle.”

Ser Ian, perhaps feeling vulnerable for a moment, shifted his focus back to their escape and the challenges that lay ahead. “Indeed, Lara. Our journey is far from over, and we must stay vigilant.”

Their unspoken feelings lingered in the air, buried beneath their shared commitment to their mission and the legacy of House Targaryen. As they rode on through the desert, their bond remained unbreakable, and the future held both uncertainty and the potential for deeper connections.

As they continued their escape through the harsh desert, Ser Ian couldn’t help but steal worried glances at Lara. Her injury, though seemingly minor, had become a cause for concern for him. No one knew the depth of his feelings, not even Lara herself, but over the course of their journey, although short, he had grown to care for her deeply.

Their unspoken connection was a testament to the bonds forged through shared hardship and the legacy they carried with them. Ser Ian’s concern for Lara went beyond their duty and loyalty to House Targaryen; it was a sentiment that had quietly grown within him, hidden beneath layers of camaraderie and shared purpose.

Though his heart ached with worry for her, he knew that their escape and their mission took precedence. His unspoken feelings remained a closely guarded secret, a silent testament to the complexity of their journey and the potential for deeper connections that lay beneath the surface.

[sharkpupsblog]

😈 Brand New Person ‼️ PART (3/6) Revelation.

A Dark Rider and Dark Rider! Aideen! GN! Reader fic!

Hi!!! Ik I said this would have three parts but this . Is not the end 😈 I’m still writing! And you guys voted for the really angsty ending so really angsty it is! I got asked if I would write both endings and tbh I’m . Not sure? Both r good but I don’t really know if I will write both… If I do end up writing the other I will reblog it as an extra part! 🙏🙏🙏 also i am still on the browser . 😭😭😭 I don’t like this at all but it’s ok I’m slowly getting the hang of editing and posting on here 😭 hoping the bug on the app is fixed soon. 😭😭😭 anyways enjoy this silly part!!!

Summary: You and Anne fight and she reveals something to you that changes everything. Warnings: writings of bl00d and wounds and talks of explosion and d34th caused by it.

Anne loved you, you were her friend, so what she had to do next would hurt her more than it would hurt you. You watched as the woman bent her knees to her chest. You wondered if she was trying to protect herself from the punch you were about to land on her. What Anne was doing became clear a few seconds later when she kicked you right in the gut sending you stumbling backwards. You kept your balance not wanting to fall because you knew that if you did Anne would have an upper hand. You gasped and coughed as the pain didn’t allow you to breathe now you knew how Anne felt when you kicked her in the chest. The Soul Rider stood up debating fight or flight… She chose flight. She needed you to know that despite the kick to the gut she gave you, you were still her friend. She hoped her refusal to fight would make you stop trying to fight her. You watched as she ran past you trying to get to her friends. You grit your teeth as you took a painful breath in. You looked to your horse who stood nearby pointing to Anne. Your steed understood perfectly what you were asking of them without words. They neighed running after Anne, and when they got close to the woman, they grabbed her vest throwing her down to the ground. Your horse watched as you recovered and rushed to the Soul Rider not wanting her to get up. Anne didn’t get a chance to stand you got to her before she could even dare to think of taking a step. She huffed when you held her down going wide eyed as she saw you try to punch her again. You winced when she moved to the side. You punched the ground instead of her face. Anne was really giving you a tough time, and making you look like a fool she wasn’t an easy enemy you underestimated her. The embarrassment and anger made your cheeks burn red. While you were distracted with the pain in your knuckles and the embarrassment you felt, Anne threw a punch of her own. She hit you on the cheek making you let go off her, and she decided to kick you again this time on your left side making you fall onto your right. She really didn’t want to fight you, but it was clear you weren’t going to stop attacking her, so she had to fight back. Anne got to her knees quick, and you huffed as she held you down on the ground. She was angry and covered in dirt and grass you had never seen her this angry or dirty before. The part of you that still cared for her felt scared at the sight of her anger, but the new you also felt threatened. You gave her an angry look of your own “get off me!” you yelled at her raising your hand trying to claw her.

You managed to finally land a hit clawing her cheek and her nose. Drops of blood dripped down Anne’s face she shook her head looking back down at you. She bared her teeth showing her anger she looked like a wolf “why are you doing this!?” She saw you move your hand from the corner of her eye. The leader kneed your stomach holding you down with one hand, so she could hold your arms down with her other not wanting to be clawed again. “I’m your friend!” Anne’s eyes were getting glossy. “I’m your friend damn you!” You squirmed underneath her trying to get away “my friend?!” You laughed not believing what she was saying “you left me!” You continued to try to get away, but Anne was too strong, the leader’s anger and adrenaline must be giving her more strength. You watched as her face went from angry to confused. “Left you?” She stopped yelling you felt her release some of her strength you could get away now! You were about to make the move that would free you, but Anne spoke before you could move “you died.” You blinked when you felt drops fall on your cheek at first you thought it was blood from the leader’s wounds, but what fell on your cheek were her tears. She was crying… She said your name soft and caring like she used to say it when you were friends. The way she said your name made your gaze soften “we saw you die in the explosion we didn’t leave you we came back for you… And you were dead…” Anne watched through a blurry vision as you went wide eyed, and you looked away from her looking anywhere but her. You never died obviously and Katja told you that your friends had left you. She told you that as soon as the explosion happened everyone ran off, but Anne said different? You were confused and scared you didn’t know which story was real. You looked back to Anne seeing her cry “we never left you” she whispered to you “we love you we would have never left you.” For a second Anne thought you would calm and come with her and the others, but you shoved her off you. The Soul Rider got ready for another fight, but it never came you stood up looking at her “you’re lying.” You said through gritted teeth “you’re lying!” Anne frowned “why would I lie?” She really had no reason to lie to you, and you knew that, and the fact scared you more. You shook your head backing away from her. Who do you believe now? Anne or Katja? the Soul Rider stood up resisting the urge to rub at her scratches “come with me.” She said letting out a quiet sob “please” you thought about it wanting to know the truth, but before you could decide you heard your name be called. You looked behind you seeing Sabine on Khaan “come on!” She was looking behind you both, and you looked behind Anne seeing the rest of the Soul Riders coming your way. You panicked what should you do now? You looked to Sabine then back to Anne who mouthed “please” to you. You shook your head calling your horse, and you got on them, quickly riding away with Sabine. Anne groaned kicking the ground in frustration as you rode away with the Dark Rider. Alex got to Anne first, and she looked shocked “was that-“ Alex did not believe what she had seen. The user of the lightning circle held back tears as the guilt she felt from indirectly causing your death hit her right in the gut. Anne looked to the woman giving her a nod confirming that it was indeed you. Alex was shocked about you, but her shock changed subjects as she saw the claw marks on the leader’s face. “Did Sabine do that?” Alex got another shock as Anne told her that “No, Sabine didn’t do it… They did” the woman sighed reaching up to touch the claw marks.

Alex watched as Anne flinched the wounds stinged upon being touched. Now that the danger was gone Anne’s adrenaline was slowly starting to go away, and she was really feeling the after effects of the fight. Lisa and Linda got to Anne a few seconds after Alex. Lisa quickly got off of Starshine going straight to Anne to heal her wounds she had questions, but she could ask them later right now she needed to heal her friend. Linda sat on Meteor confused she had the same question everyone had in mind, and she opened her mouth finally asking it “how are they alive?” The whole team saw you die they all found you in the valley amongst the smoke they went to your funeral. No one could answer Linda’s question everyone was just as confused and as lost as she was. The team stood in Goldenhills talking about what to do next. While the Soul Riders planned their next move you and Sabine caught a boat back to the Oil Rig and things weren’t going well for you.

TY FOR READING!!! :D also omg another cliffhanger??? I am sooooo evil 😈😈😈

[harrowharkwife]

thinking thoughts. in a lot of ways, s6 seems like it's shaping up to be a revisiting of issues the characters faced in s1.

only this time they're older, and maybe somewhat wiser, and they have a stronger support system, so hopefully they can make a little more progress this time.

key words: a little more progress.

one of most special, precious, rare, and at times frustrating as hell things about this show is that it neatly sidesteps the traditional TV show convention of characters ~fully getting over~ trauma in a single 45 minute episode.

we are so thoroughly conditioned to expect this narrative from television, that it can feel jarring, or repetitive, or yes, even like bad writing, to witness such a staggering and total rejection/refutation/reimagining of that storytelling convention. to instead watch a set of characters cyclically regress, take one step forward and two steps back, keep stumbling up against the exact same internal conflicts, just from different angles, keep learning the same god damn lesson over and over again, but only in pieces, never all at once, keep coming face to face with the same base character flaws, always finding new facets of them, new situations where they rear their ugly heads.

we're six seasons in, now. i feel like that's a large enough sample size, a big enough body of evidence, to support me when i say this: yes, it's frustrating as hell.

but i think that's the point.

911 is arguing, and has been for years now, that trauma isn't something you can EVER completely "get over," period. rather, it's something you have to make peace with and learn to live alongside, in fits and starts, throughout the course of your life. you can process it and put it behind you and move forward with your life, but unless you have a time machine, you lived through it, and there's no undoing that. it's a part of your story, as much as that sucks, and trying to divorce it entirely from your lived experience and your worldview - trying to pretend that it doesn't affect your inner landscape, the choices you make, the ways in which you interact with others, sometimes subtly, sometimes overtly, but always consistently, and on a base level, and in perpetuity - is at best an unconscious well-intentioned fool's errand and at worst, a subconscious but intentional way to punish yourself even more- donning horse blinders with the goal of denying yourself healing, because it's too scary, or because you're just not ready yet, or because on some level you don't think you deserve it. (looking at you, buck.)

show me an adult human being who has experienced trauma that can truly, genuinely, wholeheartedly, without lying to themselves even a little bit, say they're "over it," that it's not still a traumatizing, that it doesn't sneak up on them from time to time, and be right about that. hold a mirror up to yourself and tell me, with a straight face, that you won't be grappling with, negotiating with, making peace with, coming to terms with, the same handful of abandonment issues, or character flaws, or negative personality traits, for the rest of your life. that going to therapy for a little while completely fixed everything wrong with your life on the first try. that you don't keep stumbling into the same old arguments and miscommunications and frustration points and failures-to-see-eye-to-eye with your loved ones. that you've ever fully learned a life lesson, every aspect of it, all in one go, all at once, with perfect clarity, and then applied that life lesson consistently and correctly to every choice you've made from then to now, without fail. that you haven't thought god, i really thought i was past that by now on multiple occasions, and meant it every time, yet still gone on to think you know what? i really am past it now! again, only to be proven wrong, again. that you've always talked about the thing weighing heavily on your mind, that you've never repressed an emotion or avoided a conversation for way longer than was healthy because talking about it would make it feel too real. that you've never encountered a situation where you made a mistake, or a bad decision, or the wrong choice, that was glaringly, embarrassingly obvious in hindsight but felt, in the moment, with the best of intentions and the information you had at the time, like the healthiest, safest, wisest option, the clear right choice, the best path forward.

you can't.

because when you're in the thick of it, when you're a human being living your own life from your own perspective, you miss the forest for the trees.

as an audience, especially those of us who grew up in online fan circles, we have been begging for complex, nuanced, diverse, realistic, empathetic, considerate, patient, lifelike, thoughtful, and trauma-informed storytelling for years now.

911 is finally delivering it.

and maybe this is why stories are traditionally written like stories, not like real life. maybe carla was right about the fantasy sometimes being better than the reality, because now that it's here, we don't know what to do with it, myself included.

it's frustrating to watch! when you're on the outside looking in, an audience member consuming a story from third person perspective with all the omniscience given to you by the narrative, watching stories play out this slowly and subtly and circularly can feel confusing- don't the writers remember that that character supposedly already learned that lesson? it can feel stupid- this character keeps making the same mistakes! are they just stupid? when will they learn?! it can even feel lazy- they're just repeating the same plots over and over again!

if it's done right, though, it's not careless, or stupid, or lazy. it's fucking hard, actually, to keep finding new lenses to look at the same core concept through. it's much easier to tell a simple story, is the thing. to write a character who learns a lesson the first time and moves on, a character who survives a trauma in one chapter and heals from it in the next, neatly delineating their life into an efficiently juxtaposed Before and After. easier to write, and easier to watch, or read, or consume. abstract art and photorealism are both art, and they're both valuable, and they're both equally compelling, but the latter often takes a hell of a lot more time and patience and attention to detail. that doesn't make it more valid, or better, or more important- it's simply a fact of the chosen medium.

a story as complex as this one, told like this, and done right (fingers crossed, but only time will tell) results in writing that is deeply true to life, realistic, and human. and isn't that what we've all been asking for? writing that's intentional enough, and patient enough, and multifaceted enough to make the characters feel less like constellations of plot points and tropes, and almost akin to authentic people in their own right, living out stories that are rich and dynamic and messy and yes, at times rather boring, stories that feel almost more like biographies than fiction? miniature lives of their own.

i'd argue that 911 is doing it right- as tricky as it is to judge a technique that's arguably somewhat new/innovative/transformative/fresh/inventive as "right" or "wrong," when a) the story is still in the process of being told, we're still in the thick of it, and b) there's really no other long form primetime tv show i can think of that's being written quite like this- it's hard to judge anything in the absence of a peer for comparison.

but i'd argue they're doing it right, if we take "doing it right" to mean fully embracing and committing to and staying truthful to this narrative device that they've chosen to use to tell their story, and then telling that story with deliberate, painstaking, intentional care, come hell or high water.

so yes, i am expecting this set of characters to keep making this same set of mistakes, facing this same set of demons, and learning this same set of lessons over and over again, in different facets and lights and angles and fonts and degrees and scenarios, for however long this show runs its course. i think it's pretty evident by now that that's the medium the writers have decided to use, the kind of story they've decided to tell. a handful of people spending their whole lives learning how to be people.

and yes, that's sometimes immensely frustrating to watch. yes, i often wish i could skip ahead. yes, i often have criticisms, especially when it comes to pacing. yes, i often get anxious and frustrated wondering where this story might be headed. no, it's not perfect.

but you know what it is?

it's a story that i - as a person who has spent her whole life up to this point learning how to be a person, who will probably continue to spend the rest of her life beyond this point learning how to be a person, trying and trying and still never quite getting it right - am deeply, deeply invested in following through to the end.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Of Princes and Witches Chapter 14- Legolas Greenleaf x OC

Legolas Greenleaf x Alphine Barrowes

Description: Alphine must travel to Minas Tirith with Gandalf and Pippin to forewarn its Steward, Denethor, of what Pippin saw in the Palantir.

Word Count: 2.4k

“There was no lie in Pippin’s eyes,” Gandalf informed Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Theoden and Alphine the next morning. “A fool, but an honest fool, he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring.” Alphine sighed in relief, crossing her arms as her eyes fell on Merry and Pippin, who sat a few feet away from them. Her eyes met the younger Hobbit’s, and she offered him a reassuring look as Gandalf continued. 

“We’ve been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the Palantir a glimpse of the enemy’s plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing: he knows the heir of Elendil has come forth,” he nodded to Aragorn, who was staring at the Wizard intently. “Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still. Strength enough, perhaps, to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle Earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a King return to the throne of Men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war.” Theoden scoffed, which caught the Witch’s attention.

“Tell me, why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours?” He questioned. “What do we owe Gondor?” It was the Witch’s turn to scoff now. 

“You cannot be serious,” she said before she could stop herself, making the King look at her. “You have already been shown that you do not need to do a favor to receive one. The soldiers of Lothlorien owed nothing to you and yet they still came to your aid. Hundreds of soldiers died in the name of keeping your people safe!” Theoden’s gaze was fixed on her, but just as he opened his mouth to respond Aragorn spoke. 

“I will go to Minas Tirith.” 

“No,” Gandalf responded immediately. 

“They must be warned,” the Man argued. 

“And they will be,” the Wizard answered, leaning closer to Aragorn to say something in a low voice. “You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river, look to the black ships.” He leaned back and continued aloud this time. 

“Understand this, things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith, and I will not be going alone.” He looked at Alphine pointedly, then turned his gaze to Pippin. 

Alphine, though she didn’t truly wish to go to Mina;P.s Tirith just yet, knew that she probably shouldn’t disobey Gandalf. She knew that he knew much more than her, and she understood that he saw things that she didn’t. That’s why she had no qualms about following him to the White City. She was standing in the stables preparing her new horse, Talysan, for the journey ahead when she felt a presence behind her. Upon turning around she was met with Legolas standing there. 

“Legolas,” she greeted. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’ve just come to wish you a safe journey,” he answered softly. “Will you be okay?” A small smile formed on the girl’s face at the question as she nodded. 

“With Gandalf by my side, I should be okay.” Legolas nodded and, hesitantly, reached a hand out to press against her cheek with a feather light touch. For a moment the Witch just stood there in shock. The gesture was a rather intimate sign of affection amongst Fairies, to do that meant that you were basically proclaiming your love. 

“Legolas…” She trailed off slowly, voice almost too quiet if it wasn’t an Elf that she was talking to. “Do you understand what you are doing?” The Elf couldn’t help but smile at her expression as he dropped his hand. 

“I do,” he answered. “And I mean it. The last thing I would want if things go south is you not knowing what I feel towards you. Amin mela lle, Alphine (I love you, Alphine).” The girl, despite being touched by his confession, could do little more than press her hand to his cheek just as he had previously done to her. 

“Come on,” she heard Merry call as he walked into the stables. Both their heads turned as Pippin followed his cousin inside. Gandalf, who already sat on Shadowfax, lifted the Hobbit up behind him before facing the Witch. 

“Alphine, we are leaving.” The girl nodded and dropped her hand. The Elf, as per usual, helped her onto her horse. 

“Ride safe,” he said softly, patting the horse. Alphine nodded then pressed her hand to his cheek again.

“I will. Amin mela lle, Legolas.” The Elf copied her movements, then Gandalf spoke from beside them. 

“Run, Shadowfax. Show us the meaning of haste!” The white horse wasted no time in galloping out of the stables.

“Go, Talysan,” Alphine called, clicking the reins. Just like Shadowfax, the horse obeyed immediately and followed the white horse out of the stables. 

The Witch refused to look back because she knew that if she did and saw Legolas, she would either cry or just turn back. As she rode farther and farther away from Edoras beside Gandalf and Pippin, a bittersweet feeling seeped its way into her heart. She loved Legolas, and Legolas loved her, but now they had to be separated. She had no idea if/when she was going to see him again. It didn’t feel fair to her. Like she’d been given a dose of happiness only to have it ripped away from her in a heartbeat. 

It was a three day’s ride to Minas Tirith. They didn’t stop to rest- no, they couldn’t stop to rest. There was no time to waste. If Pippin was tired, he would sleep in Gandalf’s arms, and if he was hungry Alphine would conjure up food that he could eat on the go. They galloped through forest, open plain and river in their journey, passing through one more river before Gandalf spoke. 

“We have just passed into the realm of Gondor,” he informed his companions. Alphine stared at the White City in awe after they reached the top of a hill, looking down at it. 

“Minas Tirith. The City of Kings,” the Wizard said, allowing his companions a moment to look at it before continuing. “Come, we are nearly there.” With that the horses continued their journey. They galloped through the city until finally reaching the topmost level, stopping in front of a huge white hall. After dismounting their steeds Alphine and Pippin followed the White Wizard up to the door of the hall, and the latter stopped when they passed a dead white tree. 

“It’s the tree,” he exclaimed, looking to the Wizard and Witch in shock. 

“Yes, the white tree of Gondor,” Gandalf explained. “The tree of the King. Lord Denethor however, is not the King. He is a steward only, a caretaker of the throne.” He stopped abruptly once they reached the door and faced Pippin. The Hobbit would have run into him if Alphine hadn’t stopped him with her hands on his shoulders. 

“Now listen carefully. Lord Denethor is Boromir’s father. To give him news of his beloved son’s death would be most unwise. And do not mention Frodo or the Ring…and say nothing of Aragorn either,” he paused thoughtfully. “In fact, it’s better if you don’t speak at all Peregrin Took. And Alphine, think very carefully before you speak.” The duo nodded complacently before following the Wizard into the massive hall. Inside was a grand hall with a singular throne on the far end, where a Man sat in the seat. 

“Hail Denethor, son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor,” Gandalf greeted, though the Man did not look up from his lap, where something Alphine couldn’t quite see lay. “I come with tidings in this dark hour and with counsel.” 

“Perhaps you come to explain this,” Denethor responded bitterly, holding up a broken horn for them to see. Boromir’s horn. Alphine had to refrain from gasping at the sight. 

“Perhaps you have come to tell me why my son is dead,” the Steward continued. 

“Boromir died to save us, my kinsman and me-  and Alphine Barrowes here,” the Witch suddenly heard beside her, making her eyes widen. Her head whipped to the side to face Pippin as he continued. 

“He fell defending us from many foes,” he said, approaching the throne and kneeling in front of it. 

“Pippin,” Gandalf scolded, but the Hobbit paid him no mind. 

“I offer you my service, such as it is in payment of this debt,” he concluded softly. The Steward pursed his lips thoughtfully before answering. 

“This is my first command to you. How did you escape and my son did not? So mighty as the man he was.” Pippin stayed silent for a moment, and Alphine silently prayed that he wouldn’t answer. Luck was not on her side. 

“The mightiest man may be slain by one arrow, and Boromir was pierced by many.” The Witch’s eyes fell closed, almost painfully, at the memory of Boromir’s arrow ridden body back in the forest. When she opened his eyes she noticed the upset look on Denethor’s face. He turned his gaze to her a moment later.

“My son saved your life as well,” he started slowly. “Tell me why you do not pledge yourself to me as well?” The girl licked her lips as she debated on what to say. 

“What Boromir did was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen done, but I know that he did not do this so that we would be indebted to his kin. He did it out of the goodness of his heart. To indebt myself to you would not put to rest what he’s done or honor him correctly,” she ultimately decided on. She looked at Gandalf, who merely nodded in approval. 

“And yet you dare to wear his pin in my presence,” Denethor suddenly hissed, staring at her chest. The Witch’s gaze fell to Boromir’s brooch, which had been pinned right where her heart was. She opened her mouth, though she did not know what to say. It was obvious that he likely wouldn’t understand the bond that she formed with Boromir. Fortunately she didn’t have to say anything as Gandalf walked forward, smacking Pippin with his staff to move him out of the way. 

“Get up,” he scolded before facing Denethor. “My Lord, there will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now. War is coming, the enemy is on your doorstep. As Steward, you are charged with the defense of this city. Where is Gondor’s armies? You still have friends, you are not alone in this fight. Send word to Theoden of Rohan, light the beacons.” If looks could kill, the glare that Denethor shot at the Wizard would have sent him straight to Valinor…again. 

“You think you are wise, Mithrandir,” the Steward sneered. “Yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor and with your right you would seek to supplant me. I know who rides with Theoden of Rohan. Oh yes, word has reached my ears of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn. And I tell you now, I will not bow to this Ranger from the North. Last of a ragged house long bereft of Lordship.” 

“Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the King, Steward,” Gandalf argued fiercely. Denethor jumped up from his seat. 

“The rule of Gondor is mine and no others!” The two stared at each other angrily, both willing the other to say something. After a minute Gandalf turned away. 

“Come,” he demanded, walking out of the hall. Alphine and Pippin shared a look, then quickly followed the Wizard out. 

“All had turned to vain ambition,” Gandalf grumbled once they were outside. “He would even use his grief as a cloak! A thousand years this city has stood and now at the whim of a madman it will fall! And the white tree, the tree of the King, will never bloom again.” Pippin looked at the tree as they walked through the courtyard. 

“Why are they still guarding it?” 

“They guard it because they have hope. A faint and fading hope that one day it will flower. That a king will come and this city will be as it once was before it fell into decay. The old wisdom born out of the west was forsaken. Kings made tombs more splendid than the houses of the living and counted the old names of their descent dearer than the names of their sons,” the Wizard explained as he led them along the parapet. Once they got to the end they stood there for a moment before Gandalf continued. 

“Childless lords sat in aged halls musing on heraldry or in high, cold towers asking questions of the stars. And so the people of Gondor fell into ruin. The line of Kings failed. The white tree withered. The rule of Gondor was given over to lesser men.” 

Alphine’s gaze landed on a dark mountain far in the distance- no, it wasn’t a mountain. It was a volcano. Mount Doom. And the tower of Sauron stood beside it menacingly. 

“Mordor,” she whispered. 

“Yes, there it lies,” Gandalf nodded. “The city has dwelt ever in the sight of its shadow.” 

“A storm is coming,” Pippin commented worriedly, noticing the disturbances that lay over the land. Alphine shook her head at that, realizing that whatever was happening over the dark land wasn’t moving. 

“This is not the weather of the world,” she shook her head. 

“No, it isn’t,” agreed the Wizard. “This is a device of Sauron’s making. A broil of fumes he sends ahead of his host. The Orcs of Mordor have no love of daylight, so he covers the face of the sun to ease their passage along the road to war. When the shadow of Mordor reaches this city it will begin.” Pippin nodded thoughtfully. 

“Well, Minas Tirith is very impressive,” he said matter-of-factly before facing Gandalf inquisitively. “So where are we off to next?” 

“It it’s too late for that Peregrin. There’s no leaving this city,” the Wizard answered, looking to Mordor afterwards. “Help must come to us.” As she followed Gandlf’s gaze to the dark lands, Alphine couldn’t help but hope that it would.

[parkerbombshell]

Addictions and Other Vices 915 – Colour Me Friday

Addictions and Other Vices Fridays 3pm Repeats Saturday 3pm EST and Sunday 8am EST  bombshellradio.com #NowPlaying #indie #rock #alternative #Synthpop #indierock #community #radio #BombshellRadio #DJ #AddictionsPodcast #NewMusic #ColourMeFriday #Radio247 New Indie finds, previews of Just Another Menace Sunday artists coming up this weekend into next week ala Dennis The Menace, and Alex Green of Stereo Embers The Podcast and Bernard Frazer of The Essence of Cool and Sandy Kaye of A Breath of Fresh Air. Discoveries from our social media followers and a few more surprises. Thanks to all the artists, labels and PR companies that submitted tracks this week. Photography : efes Fix Mix 915 - Kelly Time / Owl City - Nothing Left To Lose / Everything But The Girl - Panopticom (Bright Side Mix) / Peter Gabriel - Nelly / Pomme - un million / Pomme - Good Lovin' - Single Version / The Young Rascals - Black Gold (2022 Remaster) / Soul Asylum - Courage (For Hugh MacLennan) / The Tragically Hip - Buy Me A Million Dollars / Love Tractor - Lost Without You / Freya Ridings - Lights / Band of Horses - Mercy / Suzanne Santo - Waterfront / Simple Minds - Traffic / Simple Minds / Russell Mael - Last Of The Red Hot Fools / The Jitters - I Don't Know / Blair Packham - Consequences / Kate Davis - You Can't Keep It From Me Forever / Peter Doherty, Frédéric Lo - Broken Things / K.C. Clifford - Never Gonna Give You Up / Milo Greene - Anything / Frankie Rose - Domino / Nicole Atkins - Homemaker / Jill Barber - Hurricane / MS MR - Bored / Low Girl - Fables - Edit / Interpol - Sideways Skull / The Hold Steady - I Need Ya / Somebody's Child INTERVIEWS THIS WEEK Friday January 20 Stereo Embers The Podcast w / Jim Kerr (Simple Minds) Rainbow Country  w / Vacaya LGBT+ Vacations Reimagined The Essence of Cool  w / Leslie Stanwyk (Universal Honey) Just Another Menace Sunday w/ Pomme A Breath of Fresh Air  w / Felix Cavaliere ( The Rascals) Saturday January 21  Stereo Embers The Podcast w /  Mark Cline (Love Tractor) Just Another Menace Sunday w/ Freya Ridings Sunday January 22 Stereo Embers The Podcast w / Suzanne Santo (honeyhoney) The Essence of Cool  w / Blair Packham Just Another Menace Sunday w/  TBA Just Another Menace Sunday w/ Kate Davis Monday January 23 Stereo Embers The Podcast w / K.C. Clifford Just Another Menace Sunday w/Milo Green Tuesday January 24 Stereo Embers The Podcast w / Author Bianca Marais (Hum If You Don't Know The Words) A Breath of Fresh Air  w / Just Another Menace Sunday w/ Nicole Atkins Rainbow Country w / TBA Wednesday January 25  Stereo Embers The Podcast w / Author Hannah Sward (Strip) Just Another Menace Sunday w/  TBA Just Another Menace Sunday w/ MS MR Thursday January 26 Stereo Embers The Podcast w / Jim Kerr (Simple Minds) Stereo Embers The Podcast w / TBA Just Another Menace Sunday w/ Interpol Addictions and Other Vices Read the full article

[awkwardspontaneity]

Hello. This is my first request for the Legend of Zelda, so I do not know how to write it correctly. I don't speak English and I'm writing this in a translator, so there may be mistakes here, sorry. In general, I want to see how the reader will react to the fact that Revali, Link and Sidon cheated on her. (something made me feel sad) Thank you in advance ╹▽╹

I'm so sorry something happened to upset you. If it's along the lines of this request give me a name😤👊 anyways thank you so much for requesting!! This ended up being so much longer than I intended but I'm pretty happy with it. I hope this is what you're looking for!

✨ requests are open✨

Warning: angst, cheating

Revali🐦

I think with his prickly nature not a lot of people would stick around long enough to get to know how much he cares

But some bitch saw how much he was training to perfect his powers to help Hyrule and couldn't resist

It started off as bringing him lunches and heat pads after a long day of training and then it escalated

They would wrap his wings up and suddenly he was letting them fix his braids. He never saw it as much more than a fan helping him out but you saw differently

It ended up in a big fight when you finally brought up how Revali was allowing this fan to hang off of him like they were his partner not you. You brought up excellent points like how he took such a long time to even trust you with braiding his hair and that he could at least let them know he's in a relationship.

Revali got upset (probably cuz ur right and he can't admit it) and snapped that at least they appreciated him

Yeah bad move. You walked out and bird brain left to train away the pain

You came across his first and decided to head to the shooting range with some peace snacks but what do you find?

You walk up the slope towards the archery range, a container of Revali's favourite snacks in hand. As you approach you see something sitting inside the hut and assume it's him. Sterling your breath you walk into the hut and what you find takes your breath away- not in the good way either. Revali sat there with his wings wrapped around them, too caught up on their liplock to notice you standing there.

CRASH

The container hits the ground with a shatter, ruining their little scene.

"Y/n-"

"Don't even try it." You wish your voice didn't sound as broken. No matter how much your heart squeezed in pain from the betrayal, you wanted to come off so much different- angrier. Because you were angry. "Just because we have an argument does not give you the right to run off with your new friend."

Revali flinches at the word and you feel a sick glimmer of satisfaction. He opens his mouth to protest, ignoring your glare. "I-I'm sorry." Your glare darkens and he immediately flounders for the right words. "You accused me of something I didn't do-"

Yeah, not the right words. You wish you could do something, anything to hurt him like he hurt you. But you had to be the bigger person no matter how much you wanted to snap that precious bow of his in half.

"I accused you, not have you permission."

"We can work through this, together" his wing reached out to you, but you recoiled to fast.

"We're not together." You walked towards the entrance "I hope it was worth it."

Link 🗡️

Link is a closed off person. Sure he has people worship him for his title as the hero of Hyrule, but he would never let that get to his head. You could tell this boy he's amazing and it still wouldn't get through his insecurities

Maybe it's cruel but, that almost reassured you he would never break your heart like that. You felt secure in your relationship

That's why it was so shocking when you found out he had fallen for Zelda.

It wasn't meant to ever be more than knight and princess. And you never should have found out.

You were walking towards the stables of your party was staying at. It was supposed to be a simple trip to complete some research out in the plains. Of course your trip was ambushed by an energetic princess who begged to come along for research purposes. You couldn't complain because the addition of the princess also came with your boyfriend Link.

Now you were looking for him outside the small ranch. You fully expected him to be caring for Epona like he always did after a long trip. His love for his horse was something you had always loved about him. The way he would stay later than everyone else to make sure she was okay. It had made stables kind of your spot. Hanging out at the end of a long day to talk and spend time together while caring for your steeds.

Maybe that was why your heart felt so utterly shattered when you did find him, standing next to the stable, with the princess in his arms. Maybe you could have fooled yourself into believing he was being friendly if he hadn't pressed a long loving kiss to her forehead followed by both her cheeks, chuckling softly as she giggled.

You knew they had always been close. I mean they spent all their time together. You'd just never thought that Link would do something like this to you.

You walked away from the stables fighting backs the tears in your eyes. It was only when you found you had walked into an older area, a spare shack outside, that you finally let the tears fall. Your heart twisted in pain as sobs tore from your throat.

Why hasn't you seen this? Why weren't you enough?

------

Your research trip was almost over. You had gone back late into the night to find Link on the edge of his bed head in his hands. He had shot up to demand where you had been when you finally walked in and although he looked like he wanted to argue, he accepted that you had been organizing your research supplies and notes in quiet.

That had been 3 days ago. You had spent the research trip sticking close to your colleagues, poring over each plant and testing their uses. The princess was too distracted with her own interests to really notice how you shied away from her presence. Link had though. And he was about done with you brushing him off in favour of your work. You both were busy so not having time was nothing new. But this was different. You couldn't meet his eyes and he had caught you staring at him and Zelda as if you were about to cry before. He was at a loss and now he needed to figure things out for himself.

However he wasn't quite ready for the answer.

"I saw you and Zelda together."

His throat closed up. He wanted to say so many things. How sorry he was. How he wished he could have told you himself. How he wished he could hold you and forget how complicated things were.

"it's okay." Now that, he wasn't expecting. "I thought I could be mad at you. Both of you. But I guess... It just makes sense." You sniffled softly. You really didn't want to do this. You hated that it had to be you who gave up. But we're you really going to fight? No. As much as it tore your heart into pieces, you would stand aside for them. "I wish that things hadn't changed but, clearly you don't feel the same anymore and I don't want to hold you back. I love you. So much. But I don't deserve this, and I won't put either of us through the trouble. I hope you two are happy together Link."

As you walked towards your friends to head home Link felt his heart clench. You deserved so much better.

Sidon🦈

You were a princess from another kingdom, betrothed to Prince Sidon of the Zora. We all know how these things go, neither of you were all that fond of the idea but you would go through with it. For your kingdoms

You tried to be as understanding as possible of the situations, knowing that the prince was just as trapped as you were. So you played along with your parents wishes.

You two went on dates and spent time together, getting closer and closer until finally you kissed him.

Things were great. You were planning your wedding and enjoying the time you spent with your fiance as you prepared for your future

It wasn't until a few days before the wedding when you were trying on your dress that things fell apart.

Your dressmaker had been in a bad mood, grumbling as they worked and even sticking you with needles a few times. You would have brushed it off as a bad day if not for the facts that they seemed so unapologetic.

You finally brought it up, softly asking if there was something wrong and if you could help. They snapped, going off about how you were ruining the princes life and that he didn't love you and was only marrying you for his kingdom and that he deserved to be happy.

They realized their mistake and left quickly, leaving you alone in your wedding dress with shocked tears slipping down your face.

You later made you way to Sidons office, hoping to clear some things up and maybe seek comfort from the one you loved.

What you didn't expect was to find him already comforting someone. Your dressmaker.

You watched as he whispered sweet nothings and reassurances to them. It was when he said no matter what they were the one that he loved when you broke away.

You stood in your room, packed bags beside you. You knew there were better ways to deal with this. You knew that your kingdom was counting on you and thus marriage. You just couldn't go through with it. Not anymore.

"Y/n?"

You sound around to find the Zora princess standing in your doorway. Mipha had become a close friend in your time in the Zora domain, even feeling like family as you worked closely planning the wedding. She had once told you that you were everything she could hope for in a sister and wife for her brother. You guessed it didn't matter in the end.

Finally you choked out pained words "I can't... I just... I can't do this anymore."

"If you are feeling nervous, I can assure you my brother would never hurt you."

This made you laugh. It was cold, similar to the ice creeping into your veins. "He would. And he did." You cut off Mipha's confusion, wringing a hand through your hair, "Sidon is in love with someone else. I made every effort to work through this engagement despite our... rocky beginning. But he didn't choose me back. He never wanted me, and I won't ruin his chance to be happy."

The room was silent after your outburst. You only noticed the tears when your friend wiped them from your eyes. She offered you a small smile, sharing the pain you felt. She was losing you and still understood it was best for you. You needed to move on and save yourself from a life of pain. A life of being chosen second.

"I hope one day we can meet again, sister."

You let out a choked mix of a son and laugh. Hugging the princess before you grabbed your bags and walked out the door, out of the kingdom that stole your heart and crushed it in its hands.

"I love you, always."

[starlostseungmin]

the portrait of you and me ─── seungmin.

pairing — prince!seungmin x fem!reader

genre — 18+, mild enemies-to-lovers, romance, forbidden love, reincarnation

warnings — profanity, mentions of horses, sexual content.

words — 14k

note — this is part of the royal au series but i suggest you read play with fire first before reading this but if not, it's also okay ^^ enjoy! ps. not proof read.

“Go home Seungmin, leave your sister alone.”

“Seungmin, my son, you’re getting married!”

He was fuming the moment he knew that his sister was being a fool towards Hyunjin, and Chan just let it slip for they call it love. And love pursue people to sacrifice even if they’re not sure what’s going to be the outcome of their stupidity and dumb decisions in life. For Seungmin, well, he’s not sure, love does not seem to capture him romantically and the only love he has is for his family, friends and his people. Love, what is that anyways? But, that is not the case for his problem. He’s getting into a fixed marriage. An arrange marriage to someone he don’t know and of course, he don’t love. And this, he got more furious when he knew about the sudden news. Family tradition sucks but he couldn't escape his reality.

A loud frustrated sigh escaped from his lips as he rested the back of his head at the edge of his bathtub, staring at the ceiling filled with angel paintings and flowers. It’s been only a few hours ever since he came back from Targarhyun, in which he missed the opportunity to punch Hyunjin in the face because of that stupid curse of that old dumb wizard who once hated the Hwang royal family. Seungmin doesn't know anymore, but yeah, he was informed about getting into an arranged marriage even before his sister fled. Yet the announcement of his soon-to-be wife is too soon for him to handle. The prince is not the type to run away and turn his back to his responsibilities but thinking about the fact that the preparations will be starting from next week until the wedding which is 6 months from now. Seungmin is not yet ready for it and most importantly, he is focused about worrying on his sister instead of showing a proud smile because of his marriage. Which is not.

The splash of water was heard, and some spilled on the marble floor, as he sat up glancing at the large window beside him. It was so dark outside and the only light he could ever use was from the moon and some candles he lit before he bathed himself in a rose scented water. His hair is becoming dry after dripping the fragrant liquid that was absorbed by his black locks. Frustration turned to sadness, and sadness turned into exhaustion. The water is supposed to make him feel relaxed but maybe the thoughts hanging inside his head don’t help it.

He rose up from the bathtub letting the water drip form his naked body as he walked towards a small table where his body towel and a robe, folded neatly. Good thing he was alone. The prince doesn’t want anyone or someone to interfere his bath even if the other maids bathe him when he was still a child but adulthood changed him. Maturity hit him on his teenage years, he is highly different from his twin sister. She learned witchcraft and literature while he learned sword fights, master laws, political science and mathematics, not to mention he loves reading too as he almost finished every single book in the palace’s library. Both learned etiquettes and basic subjects about being a royal yet Seungmin really stands out the most. But one good thing about Seungmin, he loves his sister as more than anyone else in the world, though they have this typical love and hate relationship as siblings, his love for her is much more important. He would only hope what’s good for her and the fast recovery of his best friend, Prince Hyunjin of Targarhyun.

He covered himself with his black velvet robe with black roses embroidered on its gray sleeves after he wiped himself dry with that body towel which was made with cotton. The black ribbon around the robe’s waist is tied into a double knot as he exited the bathroom and headed to his bed. It will be a start of his busy schedule next week, he needed to rest on the weekend, maybe read some books that remained untouched inside the library or whatever that comes in to his mind as long as he doesn’t think too much about the status quo of his sister in the hands of Hyunjin.

The first week of preparation arrived swiftly before Seungmin realized it is Monday. Everyone is busy except him, at first, his parents were already thinking whom to invite and what food should be served. Why is the wedding preparation 6 months? Minnister wanted to give Seungmin a grand wedding, they wanted to be fancy and the most expensive one that will go down in history, decorations are products from other countries which would take weeks before it gets delivered, a pavilion will be made, furniture and other heavy crafts will be created, his own wedding clothes and the bride he doesn’t know who. He was informed that he won’t be meeting his future wife for the next five months but a month before their wedding. Sounds crazy and had only a limit of time but the said princess had a lot to fix in her own kingdom which is from the other side of the border line of their country. Whatever, he didn’t care. As long as the preparation lies on the venue and other things, except him, he’s fine.

It was a warm Monday morning where the sunlight meets his bare skin by the balcony. He escaped the dining area after he had breakfast with his parents and decided to avoid people for the sake of his leisure but he guessed he won’t be alone for the next hours of the day. “Seungmin! There you are!” His mother exclaimed after finally spotting him at the balcony on the third floor. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Mother.” He called, facing his cheerful mother who is dressed neatly and pretty much excited on what she’s going to say.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“Just looking through the garden?” Seungmin said being unsure what he was doing. He wasn’t running away from his responsibilities but he wanted to hide from them that’s why he came up to the third floor and watch the light the covers the town with his people getting busy minute from minute.

“Good, getting some fresh air before the busy days I presume.” His mother chuckled. “But this would stop here, you need to come with me in the hall to meet Princess y/n from Christark.”

“Princess who? From Christark?” Seungmin’s brows knitted in confusion. How come Christark has a princess when he only knew that Chan is an only child or there was other things going on? The old prince is not really in to family conversations but maybe a sister or a girl cousin perhaps?

“Goodness son, Chan’s half-sister, Y/n.” His mother sighed.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” He said.

“That bell will ring when you come with me.” She said before clinging onto her son’s right arm and dragged him down with her to the hall in which you were waiting with two escorts behind you and the King in front of you, of course.

“Sorry to keep you waiting my dear, my son loves to wonder around the castle—” The King said.

“I understand your highness, the prince might want to make himself entertained.” You smiled. The King was struck with the brightness and beauty you have, he knew you inherited your visuals from your mother who is a friend ever since when they were young.

“He’s here!” The Queen announced and revealed the prince who is around your age. You took your time and gave them a bow as a pay of respect, flashing a smile for your good intentions.

“You’re late.” The King grumbled.

“I’m sorry father.” Seungmin said. You were stunned how beautiful he is, words are not enough to describe the natural beauty of the prince and wonder how he would look good on your paintings.

“Y/n darling, welcome to Minnister!” His mother said. “This is Seungmin, our son. He will be great in those large canvases of yours.”

The prince was confused, a princess is invited just to paint them a portrait? They can hire local painters but why a princess? And from Christark too.

“The maids will take your things to your room, just ask Seungmin where it is after you two get comfortable with each other.” The queen chuckled. “The king and I needs to supervise the other preparations.”

“Her room?” Seungmin asked.

“It is two doors from yours. The white one.”

The maids took your things as your two escorts went away with them until you were left with only Seungmin in the hall. The king and queen already disappeared from your sights as they leave to town. The prince were still confused, you must know why his parents invited you, and wrong, he won’t be able to comfortable with you any soon. It was an awkward silence between you two when you noticed he’s not really interested in your visit but there are things that he’s curious about.

“What a lovely kingdom you have, your highness.” You said giving him another bow, Seungmin smiled and bowed as well, admiring your hospitality.

“Thank you, and you look lovely yourself.” He answered.

“Thank you.”

“So uhm, you’re from Christark? You’re not a werewolf are you?” Seungmin wanted to punch himself for the question. You can’t just ask them if they’re normal or something hideous.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“Nothing,” He immediately responded in embarrassment.

“No, I’m not a werewolf, I’m completely normal.” You defended. “It’s only Chan, and father.”

“You’re his sister but I didn’t know you.”

“Oh, maybe he doesn’t talk about me that much.” You chuckled nervously. That was awkward and you can’t blame him for asking you such question when Christark have werewolves as ancestors and Chan is going to the alpha soon.

“I see, so you’re here to paint. Is that all?” He asked again.

“The king sent me a letter to come and be in charge with all the paintings that will be needed before your wedding, your highness.”

“Such as?” He asked again raising a brow.

“Hmm, your family portrait, yours alone, the king and queen, and I have to wait for the princess of Minnister to come home for reference. I have to stay here for the next 2 to 3 months as requested by your parents.”

Shock filled Seungmin’s system, “That long? How long does it take for you paint a portrait?”

“That depends on the size and details your highness.”

“I guess they’re asking you a big favor for this when they could’ve hired someone in our kingdom instead of giving you a hassle.” He said and that hurt you. Aside from being a princess in Christark, you were also known for your painting skills, each and every detail is emphasized and the colors of your models are highly accurate. You were even invited to paint of Hanratheon at the age of 17, knowing Seungmin suddenly turned you down, it didn’t please you much. How could someone like him this rude?

“If you don’t like me to fulfil this job, I can just tell the king and queen that I should go home.” You glared at him as he was stunned. “When are they getting back? Shall I go to—”

“No, it’s not like that I mean they’re not back until noon so—”

“So you don’t like me and wanted me to go home right?”

“I—” It’s not like he doesn’t like you but his parents is asking you this favor when Christark needed a princess on Chan’s absence. “It’s not that, I just think that it’s really a burden for you to come here and paint for us when your own kingdom needs you to fill Chan’s duty since he’s in Targarhyun as of the moment. He—”

“I see. Don’t worry, you won’t see me the next morning.”

Seungmin chuckled nervously and rubbed his nape, it’s really embarrassing. How could he ask questions like those? He could’ve chose proper words to say but he didn’t know why he spilled something rude that hurt your feelings. In the end, one of the maids had lead you to room, leaving him in the hall dumbfounded. But of course, you won’t let him get away with it, too bad you don’t know him that much as you wanted to start a little war in between you two.

It was dinner time when you were invited to eat with them, Seungmin was seated across from as you gave him a glare and there he rolled his eyes. He was really planning to apologize for his impulsive acts but seeing you not bothered with him apologizing, your glare emphasizes you didn’t want it. For some reason, you didn’t even walked out from your room ever since you arrived. You told your escorts to leave you alone for a while and only a maid, visited you to bring you some food. The bedroom is very comfortable and aesthetic, the walls and decorations themselves already gave you an inspiration to paint and so you did, to enjoy the time. But not until you were called to the dining area where the king and queen awaits you, including their son.

“We heard that you stayed in your room the whole afternoon princess. Are you alright?” The queen asked as you started to eat.

“I’m completely fine your majesty, I just had to organize my things in preparation for the paintings.” You smiled at them.

“That’s good, we’ll start on your painting on Wednesday. You should take a rest or stroll around the town tomorrow to have inspiration.” The king recommended as you gave him a nod. Seungmin could only sigh as he eat his food in silence while listening to the conversation.

“Thank you so much for your warm welcome, your majesties. I also love the food.” You responded in which his king and queen starting you like your personality and presence.

“How was your first meeting with Seungmin?” Now that the queen asked you, the prince drink his glass of water waiting for you to answer. Anticipating whether you’re going to give a lie or tell the truth about what his mouth spilled the first moment you had a conversation.

“It was good, I was surprised when he asked if I was a werewolf,” You paused giving it a lighthearted chuckle as you looked at him. “I’m completely normal, your highness.”

The king and queen was shocked as Seungmin glared at you, “Seungmin how could you?” The king asked.

“Well— as if I know that she’s normal when Chan is a werewolf himself.” He defended. “And my sister is having a werewolf crisis down in Targarhyun so I’m just—” he paused and shrugged his shoulders in response. “Curious.” He smirked at you ending his statement.

“You could’ve asked another question,” The queen defended.

“Like why you would invite me to paint for you when you have local painters to do my job instead?” You retorted as the king and queen gasped.

“Seungmin!”

“Son, we understand that you love our local painters but I assigned them to another work. Princess y/n is here because her mother is my friend, she even got invited to Prince Han’s kingdom to paint a portrait their castle. And I believe it is really amazing, and unique.” The king said which only gave Seungmin the feeling of defeat and annoyance. You had your revenge using his parents to defend you and now Seungmin felt like he’s sitting on a hot seat. He got scolded after that and made him apologize to you, but it doesn’t mean he’ll stop there.

“Just wait Y/n of Christark, I won’t let you get away with this.” He murmured under his breath as he watched you leave the dining area after you accepted his apology.

The next day, it was the start of your day one in the kingdom, it was peaceful — no, dreadful.

It turns out that all the carriages were used for the members of the parliament since they needed to attend meetings and others were sent to other towns, so, there were only a few horses were left and one of them is Seungmin’s. He thought about it overnight, the dinner had a very interesting conversation before him, apologizing to you.

“Oh dear, I forgot, all the carriages will be used by the parliament. I’m afraid you have you ride one of our horses. You know how to ride a horse, right Y/n?” The queen asked as you chuckled nervously, the answer to the question? No. A big no. But since Seungmin is listening, you tried to keep it cool yet the prince was quick enough not to buy your lie.

“Of course! I- I think I can..”

You were off to town and Seungmin was forced to escort you, yes, he didn’t like the idea but he had no choice but follow or else his parents will torment him but no, it’s not it. He’ll just get another set of scolding for letting you out alone when you’re not familiar of the place. But don’t underestimate such smart prince, he may be innocent and good-looking, sweet and endearing to his family, friends and his people, but, it’s different when it comes to you.

“This is White, one of our great steeds. She will take care of you.” Seungmin said handing you the rope that is connected to the rope halter.

“Thanks.” You responded taking it from his hands.

“Are you sure you can ride a horse? I’m pretty sure you were lying in front of my parents’ faces when they asked you to?” Seungmin smirked as he lifted himself onto the saddle and sat comfortably on his own gray horse.

“Shut up.” You grumbled as you tried to help yourself. “Well at least be a gentleman and help me?”

“What’s the magic word?” He asked, not really wanting to go down again as you rolled your eyes.

“Please?”

“Good girl.” Seungmin smirked again as he jumped off his horse and decided to be that gentleman you wanted, or act as he wanted to. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Whatever just give me a boost.” The prince sighed placing his hands on your waist and lifted you up, he even helped you with your dress as you sat on the saddle. White suddenly neigh loudly and moved back and forth which made you startled. “What, why, is she okay?” You asked panicking and Seungmin just laughed at you.

“Relax, she’s just warming up, liar.” He responded and quickly hopping on his horse. “Let’s go. Yah.” His horse suddenly went for a gentle run while you were left dumbfounded how to move your horse on your own.

“Stupid jerk!” You exclaimed glaring at his back figure. But still manage White to catch up on him after 30 minutes of trying. That grumpy face of yours is the only face that Seungmin saw when he glanced at you who was behind him, still, you’re trying hard not to make your horse panic and stayed in peace but not until you saw a bunch of flowers outside a house in the town.

You were talking to the florist of how much you loved his flowers and wanted to buy some to take inspiration on your painting or even practice while waiting for your first painting with the royal family tomorrow. The florist has already wrapped a bouquet for you when Seungmin smacked your horse’s butt and readied herself to run. A loud scream was heard when you hugged White’s neck as she ran, the florist was dumbfounded and Seungmin just laughed when suddenly he glared at him. He paid of the bouquet and promised to take it once he catch up with you.

The townsfolk got alarmed as your horse was heading to the fountain in the middle of the town. White halted herself when she saw the barrier but it was unfortunate that she accidentally tossed you to the waters making everyone shock. Seungmin stopped his horse when he found you being miserable, but he has no mercy for whoever decided to provoke, yet he felt guilty, only a bit.

That night you were trembling in anger as you keep on screaming inside your room and tried to come up with an idea how to take revenge on him. And alas, something has lit up your light bulb. The prince usually drinks a cup of tea during breakfast, sometimes, coffee. But a Wednesday morning is a cup of coffee for breakfast for Seungmin, good think you walked inside the kitchen where the cook and maids preparing your food with the royal family.

“Good morning.” You greeted them as they greeted you back with bright smiles. “Is this for the prince?” You asked one of the maids as she said yes. “Can I mix it for him? I’m afraid he wanted a bit of sugar.” For this damn bitter personality. The maids let you do as you please even if they insisted not to tire yourself for you will the king and queen later. But instead of sugar, you headed out for a soy sauce.

A few moments flew by and you were sitting on the same seat where you sat during dinner as Seungmin settled himself across from you. The king and queen were also waiting but the staff were quick enough to serve breakfast. The two of them asked about what they should wear or how should they pose for the painting, and as you keep them entertained, Seungmin wasn’t interested since he is not yet the muse for damn’s sake. He just sipped on his coffee, letting him taste the bitter— “What the fuck?!” He exclaimed after spitting the hot brown liquid onto the surface of the dining table. You covered your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing. Well, you got embarrassed in front of a lot of people yesterday so why not him as well? Unfortunately, it’s not really embarrassing for Seungmin. He knew you were the one who put soy sauce on his drink since he saw you talking to the maids earlier this morning and there you are, so obvious in your actions. But of course, for the second time, he didn’t let you get away from it.

Afternoon came and your first painting of the royal husband and wife is happening, they were already preparing themselves in the garden as you went to your room to get your paints. “Are you sure? You can ask the maids to get it for you.” The queen asked.

“No your highness, it is okay. I have something else to take from my room as well.” You smiled as you ran back inside the castle. The king was saying something about an escort to help you but you didn’t get to respond. When you got inside your room, you immediately settled down on a box in which where you put your materials but to your surprise, they were not there.

Panic started to fill your system as you ran around your damn huge room to find it but there wasn’t any trace of your materials. You had to apologize for the king and queen for the sudden postponement of creating their portrait. They already told you it was okay but still you insisted and try to schedule it on the weekend. Seungmin saw your frustrated face after he got out from the library in the second floor and smirked.

“So your assignment—”

“You fucking asshole! I knew you hid my paint colors and brushes!” You yelled at him when he raised his hands in defense.

“Easy there. I just took them in to a safe place to keep them clean.” He chuckled as you grabbed his collar making your faces an inch away from each other. Seungmin was caught off guard as he started at you with your fuming face.

“Bring them to me the next morning or else I will skin you alive. Stupid jerk!” You exclaimed pushing him on the wall and left. Seungmin let out a sigh of relief and chuckled at himself. Damn this is going to be fun.

Fun, what’s Seungmin’s definition of fun?

Your dreadful stay in Minnister started in Tuesday as day one, Wednesday as day two and so on to the calendar. The prince really brought your materials back in front of your door one morning, but as you opened it, your paint spilled inside the box which made you burst in anger. Paint brushes got dirty, containers of your paints were almost empty, Seungmin really did want you to leave. Grabbing the box, you stuffed them inside your room and asked one of your escorts to get you a new set of paint in town while you clean the box and threw your paints which got mixed by dirt.

A harsh groan escaped from your lips as you were cleaning them in your own bathroom. The thought of making Seungmin’s day awful would be a nice revenge after suffering from his own hands. But an idea came in to your mind. These paint with dirt will be useful.

You were informed that Seungmin loves to read his books by the gazebo in the garden usually in the afternoon, depends on his mood. That is where you waited for the right moment to show up. It was almost 4pm as Seungmin walked out from the castle and settled down inside the gazebo with a coffee and a book. Several minutes after, you sought to make him comfortable at first, you dragged your escorts with your plan as they casually walking around, pretending nothing is going to happen. One of them was holding a bucket filled with paint. At first they were afraid because the prince might put them in the dungeon but rest assured that all the blame will be on you if that happens, as long as Seungmin suffer too.

“Good afternoon your highness!” One of them greeted.

“Good afternoon.” The Prince greeted back, the other escort took the bucket and stumbled down on the ground, accidentally splashed the dirty paint all over Seungmin. A loud laugh was heard from you as you were walking towards your escorts and a grumpy, frustrated Seungmin. The dirty paint spilled over clothes and a little bit on his hair. Shock filled your escorts’ faces as they stood up.

“Good gracious your highness we’re so sorry, we—” but your presence made them stop.

Seungmin just gave you a look of disappointment as you ordered you two escorts to leave. “Seriously, that’s all that you’ve got?” He asked you.

“I have no intentions of hurting you damn asshole! But you keep bugging in my peaceful life here.” You exclaimed at him as a sigh only escaped his lips and rolled his eyes, taking your hand and dragged you back inside the castle. “Where are you taking me?” You asked trying to get away from his grip but he was too strong for you to fight back. But you do admit that he has soft hands as if they were cotton balls that you wanted to hold and be comfortable.

“To my room.” He said when your cheeks turned red as your heart started to beat faster.

“What?”

“I’m taking a bath, you did this so help me out stupid.” Your jaw dropped as you met his bathroom inside his room. It was beautiful and huge, there were angles and flowers painted on the ceiling with marble walls and floor. The bathroom was so neat and tidy that you’re afraid to put dirt on, but that’s not the point for now when you noticed Seungmin started stripping as you covered your eyes.

“Hey! What the hell!” You exclaimed as you turned around from him. The prince just smirked as he covered himself under the bubble bath on his bathtub.

“You can look now.”

“I thought you’re going to wash off the paint?”

“Yep, that’s why I’m here. The soap will ease the stickiness of your paint.”

“Okay so why am I here if you’re going to wash it yourself?” You asked as he looked at you.

“You’re here to wash my hair.” He pointed out his black orbs with purple paint sticking around. You facepalmed as you remembered it’ll be hard to take it off.

“I just told them to spill it on your clothes, not the hair.” Grabbing a pail of water and a lye soap, you poured a small amount of water, enough for his hair to get wet. “You could’ve asked one of your maids to do this for you though.”

“I don’t want anyone coming inside my room ever since I was a teenager, I can wash myself alone. I have hands.” He retorted as you applied soap on his delicate hair and started rubbing his scalp gently. “You’re the first one here.”

“I thought you hate me?”

“Yes and no.” He said upon relaxing on his scalp massage as he leaned back on the bathtub, closing his eyes. “I was going to apologize about my rude behavior during dinner but you spilled it to my mother and father so I’m getting back at you. Heck that was fun.” He chuckled when you poured water above his head to wash the soap. The prince got startled and suddenly sat up, glaring at you. “What?!”

“Was it fun? Embarrassing me in front of the crowd? Risking my life to a horse? Hiding my materials when your parents needed it?” You retorted rolling your eyes.

“Was it fun? Telling my parents about how I treated you when I was about to apologize? Putting soy sauce in my coffee and this?” He argued back referring to the paint all over his clothes, when you chuckled in embarrassment.

“Touché.”

“I can’t blame you though. It’s my first time to encounter a girl who would throw back my pranks at me.” He said as he continued cleaning himself with a small smile on his face. And then there you are, he isn’t bad after all. Seungmin is actually sweet and endearing, you admit he was like hell at first but having small talks like this, you could feel that he’s nice. You haven’t heard anything bad about him in the first place anyways.

“Well, I’m honored, your highness.” You smiled.

“Don’t be so formal, you didn’t even treat me like I’m a royal on the past few days.” He chuckled and grabbed his body towel. “By the way, can you hand me my robe? It’s near the sink.”

A week passed ever since you and Seungmin made up, you admit, you missed those first days of yours picking fights and pulling pranks on him but it’s better to be in peace that being sent back to Christark, failing your duty as a princess and a painter. Luckily, you finished your first painting for the royal couple and it was Seungmin’s portrait next, but he scheduled you should do it after he make it up to you. He’s been quite friendly for the past week but busy at the same time. The king would take him to town to see the first progress for his upcoming fancy wedding and you were left inside the palace, reading books or painting pictures for leisure. You barely got to have a long conversation and stick with small talks though his room are just two doors away from you, the feeling of loneliness started to fill in.

It was a wonderful afternoon when you decided to stroll around their palace’s garden. There was a huge fountain in the middle and you started to remember that embarrassing moment when you fell in to the water as almost everyone in town saw it. Still, that was fun, you can’t blame Seungmin about that. You didn’t know how to handle a horse in the first place anyways when you should’ve learned it with Chan back in Christark.

Seungmin was away that time, and the king and queen was busy. Your escorts were helping the staff inside the castle in preparation for dinner but suddenly, a pair of large hands covered your eyes from behind making you startled. You touched their hands and already knew who they belong, “Seungmin.”

“Hey,” He smiled as he put them down. “You seemed lonely.”

“I thought you were away?” You asked, facing his tall figure.

“Well, father said we call it a day and go home. I got tired trying to figure out each and every problem our people has. He’s trying to train me though.” He chuckled gesturing his hand as you both walk in the garden side by side. The queen suddenly laid her eyes on the both of you and realized how good and beautiful to see you in peace, not to mention, you both look good together.

“I think you should rest, I’m okay by myself.” You reassured him but the boy shook his head.

“It’s alright, I haven’t talked properly with you ever since in the bathroom. I apologize for I got busy, I was supposed to entertain you while you’re here.”

“It’s okay. I still have a lot of time here, but when are you going to let me paint your portrait?” You asked as he sighed heavily.

“I don’t know yet but I’ll try not to have schedules by next week so we could spend some time together?” Of course you agreed, spending time with the prince rather than painting your extra canvases inside your room is pretty much entertaining and fun. Time is precious for you somehow, after the tragic yet fun days ever since your first visit is quite memorable and nostalgic but Seungmin made it all better for you. It is that moment where you had to know each other first before proceeding to the activity. You admit he’s sweet and had a very angelic voice as he spoke, it’s so soothing that you didn’t mind listening on it forever.

On a Saturday, he decided to take you on a tour around this castle. It was old but sturdy and clean. There were a lot of doors, floors and a tower in which you could see the entire kingdom, paintings that cover each halls, delicate curtains that drapes over their large windows, artistic antiques and long carpets, marble floors and of course, the grand hall where the throne lies. You learned a lot about Minnister as he speaks about it every time he introduce things behind each doors and the books in library in which he summarizes the history made you amazed by his knowledge. But still, there is some things that you would wanted to ask him.

Afternoon fell as you both sat inside the gazebo after the tour with tea on the table in the middle. It was a nice hot cup of tea as you gave it a sip and smiled at the prince who had a really good time with you while walking around the castle.

“Why are you getting married? For love?” You asked as shook his head, placing his cup above a saucer.

“For my kingdom,” He paused. “I’ll be marrying a princess who is from the other side of the border, her kingdom is in need and they’re looking for a king to fill the throne since she is an only child. If not then, they’ll come for us and make my kingdom suffer like theirs.”

“And you just let it that way?” You asked again as a sigh escaped from your lips. Family tradition sucks indeed and it runs in their blood to have arrange marriages to keep their throne. “Damn, I can’t believe it.”

“Well, what choice do I have? I have never been in love to someone whom I could fight for to step back from my responsibilities.” He said which made you threw a pity on him. Behind that beautiful face, a sweet personality and a bright kingdom hides his pain and loneliness. “You know, at least you’re here. Ever since my sister left for Targarhyun, I’ve been so lonely then suddenly, you came and turned my boring life into fun. I never met someone who had the same vibe as me though and I will gladly to know about you more.”

Some weird feeling came up with your system as heat was felt in your cheeks. You could be red as tomato by now but you must stay calm. But the feeling of warmth and happiness is just good, for this is the first time a prince (except Chan) complimented you and admire your personality. “How long since she left?”

“A year and a few months, I lost count of it.” He sighed. “You know why Chan fled to Targarhyun too right?”

“Yes, he said it is for the Prince, Hyunjin.” You answered as he gave you a nod.

“He was cursed and my sister tried to heal him when we were young but she almost killed him by a wrong spell.” He chuckled at the pause. “Chan sent her a letter before Hyunjin’s 18thbirthday. The curse was said to be revealed when he turns 18 in a full moon and there my sister fled,”

“I heard you just came back from Targarhyun before I came?”

“Yes, I heard about him hurting my sister so I got mad and went there but they just said that I should go home. She told me she loves him and he said that I should leave her alone. It feels like I don’t know Hyunjin anymore.” Bitterness filled his face as you took a glance on him. He balled his fist and tears started to form in his eyes when you suddenly held his hand tightly, rubbing the back of it using your thumb. Seungmin flinched at your touch but it definitely calmed him down.

“Just let it out.” You smiled at him.

“Thanks,” He said. “I know that Hyunjin will come back soon and my sister will come home to say that she’s fine and my best friend came back to normal. I couldn’t wait for that day to happen and will be the happiest person on earth being proud of what she did. But I feel sad about myself you know that?” The tears started to fall as you grab some napkins beside the cups and gave it to him. Taking it from your hands, you feel bad about him, of course it came to the point where he totally pulled stupid pranks on you because he felt lonely. You couldn’t blame him and if there’s anything you can do, you would go and help him get over it. But there’s nothing. “I’ve been raised in a good household and high education, I learned things from books which my imagination runs deep. I practiced archery, horse-riding, sword fights, etiquettes, etc. but I don’t feel happy. I feel like I’ve been trapped in to this castle, learning more and more things. My sister is the only happiness and escape from reality for me. Now that she fell in love, I feel like I’ve been left in to the shadows. But I’m not mad at her, I’m happy for her.”

You didn’t realize that tears started to fall from your eyes. Actually, it’s expected for some royals to feel like this because of the law but for Seungmin, he’s too kind and understandable. His undying love for his sister is not every brother could feel, and you finally understand how Chan felt when you come to him and say you don’t deserve any of your status right now. They’re both the same, loving their siblings as much as they could because it’s worth it. Sometimes when no one was there for you, at least you have that loving brother to listen and defend you. And that how Seungmin felt.

“I wish I could experience something like that you know? Fall in love and turn your back from your kingdom, sail away with the one you love.” He chuckled after his sad tears being wiped away by a napkin. “Or whatever my sister is up to, yet here I am, stuck in an arrange marriage with someone I don’t know. Well—I do but not really...” But then, another set of tears fell from his eyes and that’s where you caressed his cheeks, gently wiping his sadness away. The sudden feeling of comfort felt by Seungmin, he would want to cry in front of you but he has his dignity to keep. “I mean, I’m not complaining since it’s my duty but did they ever ask me first how would I feel about this or why do I need to marry, where did I go wrong? I have the right to choose whoever I want right?”

“Of course you do. You see, your sister stayed because she loves Prince Hyunjin. She chose him even if she gets hurt by the curse. That is what love is about, sacrificing yourself to someone you love. And I could say that you are sacrificing your freedom for the goodness of her and your people.” Seungmin sighed for the nth time as you held his hands again. “And I believe that you will find happiness in the midst of your sorrow. I feel what you feel your highness.” You smiled at him trying to give him hints to be cheerful as you laid your hands on the table.

“That’s good.” He responded with a small smile. “I just suddenly told you my story, and I feel better.” An endearing chuckle was heard making your heart warm. Seungmin’s beautiful smile could heal a broken heart but not his own. “But let’s stop talking about me, I want to know yours.”

“Well it’s a long story but let me cut it short. It’s almost dark and your parents might be looking for us for dinner.” You said as gave you a nod.

“I don’t care how long will it take.”

“Well, suit yourself, your highness.” Seungmin suddenly scoffed.

“Oh please, just Seungmin. Call me Seungmin.” He insisted when you gave him another smile. “I enjoyed my other nicknames from you like asshole and stupid jerk.” And that made you laugh, the first time Seungmin saw it made his heart started to beat faster. It was like music to his ears and it is wonderful to listen on it. He feels warm and comfortable for someone he just knew in two weeks.

“I’m sorry about that your high— I mean, Seungmin. It was fun.” You paused, “But my story won’t be.”

“Try me,”

“Fine.” You answered shaking your head. “So I’m Chan’s half-sister, my mother was a commoner back then but she had a good friendship with your father who was a suitor of your mother, the princess before the 1800s,” Seungmin’s eyes were focused on you as your lips started to part for speaking your story, he became this interested to the girl who isn’t his bride. “My father fell in love with a commoner woman in their kingdom before he married Chan’s mother, an elite in town who had royal blood in their veins and of course, the blood of a werewolf. When Chan’s mother died, my father married my mother to fill the absence of the late queen. My mother became royal after they got married but it wasn’t easy. A year later I was born being a half-blood and Chan didn’t like me at first because he thought he was going to be replaced by me but the father is not like that, even my mother loves him.” You smiled in between. “I grew up with Chan being the kindest and loving brother, and my parents too, they love me for who I am but our people didn’t like me and my mother. For I was a half-blood and she was a commoner. I am a normal human, while Chan could shapeshift. I never inherited the werewolf magic from them, so I grew up as a normal person.”

“At least you’re far from hurting anyone.” Seungmin smiled back.

“Well, true, but it was hard to be acknowledged by your own people.” You responded hanging your head low as you started at your once hot, now cold tea. “All my life I stayed inside the palace, not being able to experience Chan’s royal life and duties. I envy him but I just couldn’t hate him because he’s one of the people I trust and who accepted me.”

“I know, he’s a good man.”

“Yes, he is.” You agreed. “But his life differs from me. He travels, he gets to do whatever he wants, he can shape-shift while I’m stuck in that old castle, painting and learning basic etiquettes and subjects. I was thankful that the king and queen of Hanratheon came to Christark and discovered my talent of painting. I also met Jisung,”

“Oh yes, that stupid little prick whom I fought over a cookie in Hyunjin’s birthday party.” Seungmin grumbled running his fingers on his hair, running the formal hairstyle. You admit it was kind of hot for him to do and it made you blush.

“Well, Jisung is annoying but he’s just the type of person who likes to come up with jokes and fun.” You chuckled. “But that isn’t the point, I was invited to Hanratheon when I was 17 to paint their castle for them, the queen even asked for their portraits if I could remember. And this is my second time being invited but in another kingdom.”

“I’m honored.” Seungmin said, not taking that smile off from his face.

“I’m honored to be here too,” With all those smiling faces of yours, hides your painful story. “The thing is, I’m happy to be somewhere else and spend time with people who loves me, my family is a first but sadly I am stuck as if I couldn’t move. Chan will be crowned as king when he comes home, I haven’t talk to him for a while ever since he fled. He only left a notice and got busy, my parents were, as well and I was left alone.”

“We’ll find our happiness soon, Princess.” Seungmin reassured as he kissed the back of your hand.

Your cheeks started to glow in red as your heart to beat faster once again. His lips were soft and luscious enough to kiss it but you need to stop daydreaming about it. He’s getting married and you can’t catch feelings for him. But how could you not? He’s the sweetest man you ever met.

“Do you like to read books?” He suddenly asked, snapping you out to reality.

“I—I, of course. I do. I read books if I’m not painting anything.” You answered trying to cover your feelings.

“Great, I’ll see you at the library at 7 okay? I want to show you something.”

“Sure.” You said and was about to say something in connection of his invitation when his chancellor called him, asking his presence to the king’s office.

“I’m sorry if I have to leave you here, will you excuse me, y/n?” He said as you gave him a nod and stood up from his seat.

“Of course.” You smiled at him.

“Great, I’ll see you later at dinner then we’ll go the library okay?” He knew you said say yes and left immediately leaving you with a heavy sigh as you reached your chest where you heart was located. It is still beating faster.

“It’s funny how we just made up from the troubles we had made on the past week now I’m slowly catching feelings for you, Seungmin.” You whispered underneath your breath as you signaled the maids to clean the table and proceeded inside the castle.

Time flew by and the next thing you knew is Seungmin waiting outside the library for you. He was still wearing his outfit from earlier as you were already in your night gown. You washed up before dinner as what you got used to when you were still in Christark.

“Hey.” He greeted with that the same smile which made your heart flutter.

“Hey, you.” You smiled at him.

“Shall we go inside?” Seungmin responded taking the handle of the double door and opening them.

“Sure.” You responded watching him opening the library, and there you saw the large room filled with books and other paintings. Your jaw dropped at the sight of it as Seungmin held your hand, taking you inside with him to a table with two chairs. “Have you read all of these books?” You asked being shocked about his capabilities, well, you could tell he’s smart.

“Yes, and there are still a lot for me to read.” He responded taking out a seat and gestured you to sit down. “I will recommend you a book to read if you’re not doing anything.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, sitting comfortably.

“Wait here and let me look for it.”

The thing is, you thought you’ll be staying there in an hour or two but the conversations you had with Seungmin was like a never-ending stories about the books you’ve read before. It turns out that you had similar taste when it comes to books and their plots. Happy endings were a must but a tragic ending also meant that the book is worth a read. Stories of princes and princesses, fantasy, pirates and other fairy tales, even romance. It was never a dull moment spending the whole night in the library with you. But each conversations should end like how yours ended up at 2 am where Seungmin had to carry you back to your room after you fell asleep as he talked about a giant beanstalk.

He placed your body on your soft mattress as he covered it with the duvet, he even made the guards pretend not to see anything when he stayed inside your room for a few minutes, admiring how peaceful and beautiful you look while you were sleeping. He sat down beside you carefully as he fixed your hair that covers your face, then suddenly, a small smile crept on his lips kissing the top of your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, princess.” Seungmin said and stood up, leaving your room as he gently closed the door behind him.

As days passed, Seungmin and you got closer than ever. He finally gave his time for you to paint him a portrait and the venue was in the gazebo. He stood up in front of you with his proper and fine posture as you sat down and started to make your brush dance on the empty canvas.

“Make me look good.” He said keeping calm.

“You’re already looking good.” You smiled as you keep on glancing at him while making sure you’re doing it right. He was wearing his new outfit that was made by a famous tailor in town, a blank pants, black boots made of leather, a white top with his navy blue vest, and the top of his head is his crown.

“Thanks.” He said, blushing because of you.

“You’re welcome.” It’s true that you find him really attractive and you couldn’t deny yourself about having this small crush on him, yes, you knew he’s getting married but a simple crush won’t hurt.

Yeah, that’s what you thought.

It took you hours before finishing the half of his portrait and you could sense he is tired. You quickly stopped in the middle and placed your brush, and other materials back onto their proper places when he noticed it.

“Wait, are we done?” He asked as you shook your head, keeping them all safe and asked one of your escorts to take it back to your room.

“Seungmin, it’s getting dark, and I can see you’re tired. I’ll finish this later and show it you tomorrow morning, okay?” You said thanking your escort.

“Fine. But, are you staying all night just for my portrait?”

“Yes, it took me almost three days to finish the king and queen’s portrait so, it’s kind of a long process. You can go if you have other schedules.”

“I don’t, I better call it a day but can you come with me?” He asked doing little stretches to ease his body from standing up for so long.

“Where?” You asked, crossing your arms on your chest as he relaxed for a bit.

“Bathroom.” That sounded so weird, first thing is, you had to come with him because he was drenched with your paint but why did he need you to come with him now? “You read the book I recommended you right? You better tell me your perspective.”

“What? I can just tell you after dinner. Why would I go there again?”

“Just do it.” Only a sigh escaped your lips as you followed him. But before you could settle into his bathroom, you made a quick tour inside your room to fetch the book and saw him already relaxed inside his bathtub.

“You must like me coming here?” You asked taking a seat on the floor, lifting your dress as you sit down with the book on your lap.

“I just feel comfortable around you.” He smiled as you scoffed.

“So comfortable that you have to be bathing on that rose scented water? Yeah sure.” You smirked. “Soon I’ll probably see you naked.”

“Hey!” He said, blushing on his own job. “You don’t see me naked since I’m covered with bubbles.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Seungmin.” You responded, rolling your eyes as you started to flip some pages, looking for the bookmark he lend. “By the way, I’m almost finished about this.”

“That’s good. How do you like it?” He said relaxing himself more as he indulged that soothing scent and comfort of his bath.

“Well, I like how the author write about how some people feel about loneliness.” You smiled looking at him leaning your elbow on the sides of the bathtub. “It is like they’re telling that whenever you feel lonely or sad, there’s someone who would come in to your life and say, you’re not alone in this world and one person is enough to make you happy. Just like when you told about how you feel when your sister left and how I hid from my people because they can’t accept me from who I was. I am the first royal who can’t shape-shift.”

“I really meant to give you that book to read, because it’s how I really feel. And I’m here for you, well, I can be here before my wedding.” He said as he sat up. “How about you?”

“I am, I will always be here for you, until I can find someone else to lend their shoulders for me to cry on or whatever.” You smiled bitterly looking at him. “You know, if I were to go home, I feel like I’m getting back to my dungeon, where I hide and feel lonely again. I never felt this way before, being with someone who understands me.”

Seungmin gave you a small smile as he placed his palm on your cheek, caressing it gently. You closed your eyes feeling his warm touch though his hand was wet from the bath, he leaned closer to kiss your forehead. “I will probably the same when you go home.”

A tear suddenly fell from your eyes as he was quick enough to kiss it. “I’ll be leaving after painting your family portrait,”

“You said you’ll stay for 2 months or 3.” He said as you saw his face close to yours the moment you opened your eyes.

“I can’t really assure you that, if the princess comes back and I finish everything, I could go home.” You told him. “I have nothing to do here, unless you the royal family wants me to stay longer.”

“Don’t stay up all night doing my portrait, you can do that tomorrow.” He said.

“You don’t want me to leave aren’t you?” You asked as you gave him a small smile when he just stared at you for a few seconds before crashing his lips on yours. The first thought that came up was this is wrong and you shouldn’t for the sake of his upcoming marriage but you fell in love. You can’t stay in the dark forever.

“I don’t want you to leave,” He said, pulling away. “I suddenly don’t want to pursue the wedding because of you. I don’t want to.” But you just smiled and kissed his forehead before standing up, taking the book.

“I’ll see you at dinner, your highness.”

But things really don’t sit really well with Seungmin. He waited after dinner to talk to you after that short kiss. He didn't even know where it came from but maybe his selfish thoughts of you not leaving is going to make him insane. The thing is, he likes you, it’s not because of you had the same situation about families but he felt comfortable and never felt this kind of happiness from anyone but you. After all his sadness and loneliness inside his castle, you gave light to his world! He knows it’s foolish to catch feelings for someone he just meet a few weeks ago but Seungmin couldn’t find any other person like you when he’s going to tie the knot.

“Y/n,” He called as he saw you walking towards your room after dinner.

“What’s up?” You asked as he pushed you inside and locked the door. “What are you doing?”

“I just wanted to talk to you about what I said earlier—”

“No Seungmin, it’s okay. Our feelings is the cause of our reckless actions.” You said as he sighed in frustration running his hands through his hair.

“I know it’s foolish to catch feelings for someone I just knew but I can’t live like this anymore Y/n.” He said trying to keep your eye contact but he failed. You could sense how desperate he was but you couldn’t do anything but let your fate decides what. But you wanted to take back what you have said. Seungmin’s not reckless, what he felt about you is true. “It’s easy to fall in love but it’s hard to back off.”

“I know—but if you’re going to do this, you’ll be punished. What if everyone finds out?” You asked being worried about yourself too. You’re both foolish for love, and desperate for freedom, you also wanted to be with him but you didn’t want to break the rules. Running away wouldn’t help.

“No one.” He said. “Let’s keep this a secret, promise?” He added as he looked at you in the eyes.

“Oh my goodness Seungmin. I love you.” Seungmin didn’t hesitate to pull you closer to his body, crashing his lips to yours. This felt good unlike the first one. His soft lips molded with yours as he lifted you up, carrying you in bridal style, trying not to break the kiss until you lay on your mattress as he landed gently on the top of you.

As the fire from the candles were gone, Seungmin brushed your night gown off from your body as your hands started to undress him. Excitement filled your system as you were both naked on you bed, feeling that desperate kiss on your lips. He started kissing your neck down to your chest, giving delicate and good impressions about your body. He loves it, and he wanted to know how good you were.

Leaving traces of his kisses on your chest, he started sucking and biting your erect nipples while massaging your other breast. A lustful moan escaped your lips, grabbing his hair as he rubbed your throbbing core. “Spread your legs princess.” Being so obedient under his touch, you didn’t hesitate to follow his orders as he pressed his fingers on your clit, feeling how wet you were. He captured your lips again, pushing his two fingers inside you.

“Oh—”

“Just keep quiet okay?” He whispered kissing your earlobe as you whimpered by the sudden burning sensation inside you. A desperate nod was given to him as a signal when he started fingering you. Bitting your lower lip, you tried not to make a sound as your head fall back on your pillow as you felt his fingers thrusting inside you. He admit he loved watching your reactions and felt your own cum coated on his long digits.

But you whined when he pulled away and was replaced by his cock, pushing gently inside you. It was painful at first but Seungmin didn’t want to hurt you. “Does it hurt?” He asked.

“Just be gentle.” He gave you a sweet kiss on your lips before holding your hands beside your head, intertwining your fingers together as he buried his face on your neck, leaving marks. He started thrusting slowly as you tried to not to make it obvious from the outside.

It was so good that it ended up without you checking the time and you didn’t care. You just lay down side by side, covering yourselves with that soft duvet with his arm around your back and you head rested on his chest, squeezing your forearm.

“Are you tired?” He asked looking down on you.

“No. I loved it,” You responded meeting his eyes and smiled as he gave you a soft kiss on your lips. “Are you sure about this?”

“y/n, I don’t to be that good boy anymore. My sister is already making love with Hyunjin, so why not me with you?” He said making you smile, kissing him again. His lips returned your kiss as he held your cheek. “I love you, Y/n…”

That wasn’t the only sex you made inside the castle. You quickly finished his portrait days after what happened that night. Both of you were so excited to feel each other’s warmth as he pulled you with him to his bathroom for the third time, asking you to take a bath with him inside his bathtub.

You’ve been hiding your relationship from everyone else in the castle but the king and queen already noticed that something was going on between you two and it’s not a normal friendship anymore. The way Seungmin looks at you during dinner, the way you both smiled at each other and the prince has all of his time spending it with you instead of going to town or check how the wedding preparation is going on. The boy didn’t care, all he needed is you.

“You can scream here. No one will hear you.” He said teasing you as both got in to the tub after getting yourselves naked. You sat on his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him and captured your lips, kissing you tenderly. “Open wide down there darling.”

“Yes, your highness.” You smirked as he pushed his erect member inside of you making you groaned.

“Ride me?” He asked looking at you with that puppy face of his as you chuckled, giving him a peck on the lips and started humping on him. He groaned as a response, devouring your lips again as you both made love on water.

Seungmin would always take his time visiting you in your room in the middle of the night or you would do it sometimes, then let the fun begin. You tried to stay silent as possible about this but there were eyes lurking around but didn’t said a word. They could see how you and Seungmin enjoy yourselves together, those eyes have the sparkles hinting that love is in the air, he is too affectionate and would sometimes brought you flowers when he gets back from the town. He would take you on a horse riding dates, reading countless of books in the library or even just lay down on your bed and talk things on your interests. It was all good.

But each happy moments have sadness as consequence.

After two months of your stay in Minnister, you’ve heard that Seungmin’s sister is coming home to visit after healing Hyunjin’s curse. She was mailed by the chancellor to come home for a family portrait and the next two days, she finally arrived. And you received a letter from Christark than Chan is coming home in three days. You never told Seungmin about it as you never wanted to ruin his excitement when his sister showed up in the grand hall and greeted him with a warm hug.

“I missed you so much!” His sister said giving him a tight, warm hug. Their parents also welcomed her with a fancy dinner. The king also suggested about giving her a homecoming ball but she refused for she wouldn’t stay long in Minnister.

“Why can’t you?” The queen asked as the feast on the dining area.

“I’m just here for Y/n’s painting of our portraits.” She smiled at you. “Hyunjin wanted me to stay in Targarhyun for good since Seungmin will be having his queen.” You smiled at her too and of course, you totally understand what she meant. Seungmin already told you about what happened to her in this kingdom in between your conversations one time.

“How long will you stay?” Seungmin asked with sadness being obvious in his voice, but he supports her decision too. At least what makes her happy, he’s happy.

“Depends if how long it would take. I heard mother and father’s painting lasted for 3 days so, if I needed to stay for 3 days then I will. Right y/n?” She asked and smiled at you again.

And so her portrait began the next day, true it did last for 3 days and the princess couldn’t help but notice the atmosphere between you and his brother during breaks or even off schedule. It turns out that she’ll stay for a week for the family portrait.

“Won’t Hyunjin be worried?” Seungmin asked as the three of you sat down inside the gazebo for a tea.

“I already told him that I’ll stay for a week. I didn’t know y/n stayed her for two months.” She said.

“Yeah, I got busy so my portrait got delayed and she is waiting for you.” He responded as she gave him a nod.

“Okay but don’t mind me asking, is there something going on between you two? I could definitely sense it by staring how you would treat each other though.” She asked again raising her brows, switching glances between you two.

“I uhm…” You paused. “You could tell?”

“Come on guys, I’m not the kind of person who would go around telling everyone about it.” Seungmin knew why he love his sister so much. He wasn’t bothered at all but you were embarrassed about it. “Hey, I know getting married is tough and I’m sorry for not being able to defend you both. If you love each other then go, you can run away, or stay here and speak about it. There will be no turning back once Seungmin gets to the altar and say that bullshit vows to someone he doesn’t love. Help him, Y/n.”

You would wanted to, but you couldn’t. A week passed and you distanced yourself from Seungmin, the prince couldn’t blame you for it, he sought to give you some time to think about what his sister told you. The princess was really kind to say words like that, she even knew herself that she would do the same if fate gave her the same situation but no. She is already settled to marry Hyunjin soon, but you, you don’t know. And so, it was time for you to leave.

“Christark sent you a letter and you didn’t tell me?” He asked as he saw you packing your bags with your escorts waiting for you by the carriage. The portraits were already hanged on the grand hall and the royal family loved it, but for Seungmin, it was time for you to go home. He’ll be alone again.

“You knew I’m leaving after doing my job Seungmin.” You argued.

“Yes, but is it really necessary for you to avoid me?” He asked again raging as you were done packing.

“It’s the least I could do so it won’t hurt as I leave.” You said as tears started to stream on your face. “It’s hard for me Seungmin, I know that was a mistake.” And that made him hurt.

“Mistake, you think that was a mistake? For damn’s sake y/n! It wasn’t a mistake for me Y/n! I loved it and I know you too.” He said as he held your shoulders looking at you in the eyes.

“You know I love you right? And I would do anything to keep you with me but this isn’t the time Seungmin. Maybe I’m just a passerby and maybe that princess you’ll marry is the one for you so— I don’t think I can do something right now.” You responded wiping your tears away. It was hard for Seungmin, but you were worth the risk after all. The things you did together, and how you taught him how to have fun, and most importantly, how to love.

He watched you left as he followed you downstairs, not wanting to miss your departure. “You’re coming to my wedding right?” He asked as you halted before you could go inside. Wedding, right, the man you love will be tied to someone else and you’ll be forced to visit because the king and queen asked for your presence to paint the newlywed.

“Fuck yes! I will. I won’t miss that special fucking day. And I promise, when I come back, I will steal you away. Goddammit.” You exclaimed at him when he suddenly captured your lips and kissed you. Everyone who saw dropped their jaws, including the king and queen. His sister already left the day before you and wished you good luck. She only wanted what’s the best for you both.

“I’ll be expecting you there.” He smiled, laying his forehead against yours.

“I love you.” You whispered giving him a peck on the lips and pulled away, entering your carriage.

“I love you too…” Seungmin watched your departure as the king and queen were still in shock by how the both of you acted just a while ago. They didn’t even protest and they could see how Seungmin enjoyed those 2 months of you staying in Minnister. The queen glanced her husband and signaled him to talk to Seungmin later. The prince was caught crying as your carriage disappeared from his sight, he tried to hide his face but everyone could see how the happiness turned into sadness after you left.

The king and queen already knew about your forbidden love and mainly forgot about the wedding arrangement. Ever since Seungmin and you got closer, it could tell it wasn’t just friends in their eyes. They like how Seungmin shines whenever he is with you but he has a responsibility to deal with. He didn’t even know his future bride and they couldn’t blame themselves and stop their son for being so happy in your arms. They haven’t seen him so happy ever since his sister left, he was imprisoned inside the castle doing the things that his parents wanted him to be and portray a big role for their kingdom. Yet conscience was brought upon the royal couple.

“Ah, young love.” Your escort said while sitting across from you while the other one is the driver. “I suddenly remember a story was back in Christark about a portrait of two lovers who didn’t end up with each other.” You glanced at your escort who is a year younger than you, glaring at him for ruining your peaceful, emotional moment.

“Not now Beomgyu.” You said as the boy apologized.

“But if you want to hear it then I could just tell you while on the road.” Beomgyu smiled sweetly as you wiped your tears.

“Okay,” You smiled. You couldn’t resist his kindness anyways, maybe the story would cheer you up despite of the sad ending.

Minnister is only three hours away from Christark and you’ll probably be entertained once Beomgyu open his mouth for the story. Meanwhile, the king approached Seungmin as he sat on the porch, sighing heavily. The king nodded at himself and tapped his son’s shoulder. Seungmin looked up at him and stood up immediately greeting his father.

“I want you to do something for me.” He said.

“Yes, father.” Seungmin responded.

“I know you’re sad about Y/n leaving but I think I could help you with that.” His father smiled. Seungmin looked at him feeling confused. “Go to the basement later after dinner, and see me in my office. There is a 200-year-old painting of your great-great-grandfather with his lover, I think you should see it before the wedding.”

“How would a painting help me?” Seungmin asked as his father chuckled.

“Just do it son.”

Night fell as Seungmin immediately went down to the basement with his chancellor for assistance. The prince was excited but he felt weird about going down to the darkest place in their castle. He forgot to show you the basement but it wasn’t really entertaining. Or that’s what he thought. It’s been years since the last time he visited the area because he was too scared when some of the palace workers would hear voices and it’s too creepy for his liking.

“Soobin, can you come closer? I can’t see properly.” Seungmin told his chancellor as he tried opening the door.

“Yes, your majesty.” The tall boy said. “It’s giving me the chills down here.”

“I know right. It’s dark, which is why I never wanted to come here again.” Seungmin chuckled being successful to unlock the door. “Come inside with me.”

“Yes, sire.” Soobin trembled as he followed the prince. He felt scared himself, one unknown voice could make him scream and there’s a possibility that he would run away, leaving the prince without a lamp.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here.” Seungmin reassured as he wandered his eyes around the area. It was a bunch of dusty old things. Books, nature themed paintings, treasure chests, antiques, there were old toys and even dresses.

“What are we looking for your highness?” Soobin asked as he followed him.

“A portrait of my great-great-grandfather and his lover.” The prince answered as Soobin nodded and went to look on his own too. It took them half an hour of searching inside a dark room when Seungmin stumbled on a small box on the floor, meeting the sight of a large frame. “Soobin, come over here.”

“Yes sir!”

Seungmin gently took the frame from being piled along with some large boxes. The dusts was too thick for him so see the picture but he managed to wipe it off with a dry cloth he brought with him. Both of them coughed at the same time, but the portrait is now clear for them to see and the prince suddenly gasped. Even Soobin who saw who was in the portrait.

“Sire, is, is that you?” Soobin asked. “And, Princess Y/n, from Christark. Heck this is giving me goosebumps.” The boy said chuckling at the same time trembling in fear.

“Let’s get out of here.” Seungmin said taking the painting with him and left the basement first with Soobin running faster to catch him. When the both of them got outside and back to the floor, Seungmin dismissed Soobin who is not going to have a proper sleep for the night. The prince left for his father’s office and the king welcomed him.

“Did you find the painting?” He asked as Seungmin placed it on his desk.

“Why is there a portrait of me and y/n? This portrait is said to be 200 years old father.” Seungmin asked feeling intrigued by the large frame, sitting on the desk. The two person inside the portrait looks exactly like him and you, but years older. “Is this my great-great-grandfather and his lover? It looks exactly like me and Y/n!”

“I know and that’s why I asked you to retrieve this from the basement. I also wanted to tell you the story behind this.” His father said as Seungmin sat down on the couch waiting for the king to sit across from him. “You see Seungmin, the moment you were born me, and your mother saw something.” He started.

“What?” Seungmin asked, who couldn’t wait about it.

“It was hard to believe at first and me and your mother didn’t expect that the resemblance of you and my great-grandfather is very accurate.” The king paused. “You see, reincarnation is quite common in the family and I presume that you’re the reincarnation of him.”

“Reincarnation?” Goosebumps suddenly took over Seungmin’s body. He couldn’t believe it himself.

“Yes, this noble man right here is Seunghoon, and this lady, here, is Eunseo.” The king said referring to the people inside the painting. “Seunghoon was a prince at that time, and Eunseo is a commoner from Christark. People said they met at a gathering where Seunghoon is a guest and Eunseo was a painter. He was amused about how Eunseo could paint accurate portraits of her customers and asked if she could paint him one and invite her to Minnister. Just like Y/n, she stayed for a month in this castle and fell in love with him. But the prince was already settled in an arranged marriage two weeks after Eunseo is set to leave to go home. Yet Seunghoon felt the same way about her and they planned to run away. But things had consequences when they got caught by the king and queen. They banished Eunseo from Christark for making Seunghoon fall in love with him knowing that he is getting married.”

Seungmin couldn’t even speak, did he just heard that they had the same fate as Seunghoon?

“Eunseo came back to Christark, and Seunghoon was left with this painting which she made the day after they made love. After that, they didn’t see each other again. Seunghoon fell in sorrow and got married by force to Yeonju, your great-great-grandmother. This painting was never hung on the wall because they didn’t like it and to make Seunghoon forget about Eunseo. But their hearts didn’t. I heard that Eunseo’s last words before her death were “If our love will not succeed in this life, I pray that in our next lives, we will reunite, not as friends but lovers.” Even Seunghoon said the same.” The King ended as he looked at Seungmin. Tears suddenly fell from his eyes as he felt how hard were their situation back then. “You’re the reincarnation of Seunghoon though you don’t have memories of your past life, the both of you will have the same fate if you let Y/n slip away. Your mother and I didn’t forbid you to love her Seungmin. I know getting into this fixed marriage will not bring you happiness that is why I’m planning to do a peace treaty and other arrangements with that kingdom.”

“Father I—”

“Go after her. I don’t want you to end up like Seunghoon, Seungmin.”

Seungmin hugged his father tightly as the king smiled, feeling emotional to the scene. He shouldn’t have let his son suffer on a fixed marriage but he wouldn’t be able to meet you without that excuse.

“Thank you so much Father.” Seungmin cried as he looked at him. “I will go to Christark to claim her back, and when I came back, I will help you for the peace treaty and other arrangement that would cancel this fixed marriage.” He said, being determined on what he is about to do. “I love you so much, Father.”

“I love you too, son.” He smiled. The next thing they knew, it was already morning and Seungmin is set to leave for Christark. His parents already told him what to do when he gets there. He would surely be happy to bring the news after his father have sent a letter to the kingdom across the border to meet him in three days for an agreement.

“Say hi to her mother for me!” The king said as Seungmin waved them goodbye, hoping on his horse and fled. “Ah, Seunghoon will be reunited with Eunseo, after 200 years.” He smiled.

“I have never seen Seungmin that happy.” His mother said. “Are you sure about settling a meeting with them?”

“Of course, our future king will help me and I’m sure they wouldn’t say no to our offer.”

As they watch Seungmin’s figure faced in the citadel, they only hoped for the things that would make their son happy. Even himself, he didn’t even feel that Christark is only three hours away, it felt like 3 minutes and there, the people of Christark saw the prince of Minnister approaching. You were lying on your bed upon remembering what Beomgyu told you yesterday, his story lasted until noon because of his in between comments about Seunghoon and Eunseo. You thought about having the same fate as them but didn’t really know about reincarnation. You didn’t even bother to ask your mother about it, only a sigh escaped from your lips as you didn’t leave your room, two hours after you woke up.

You really didn’t have a proper sleep, thinking about Seungmin. Only you wished that he would come to your kingdom to save—

“Announcing the arrival of Prince Seungmin from Minnister!”

You got startled to the point that you ran towards your window and saw Seungmin being welcomed by your parents and Chan. Without being able to hesitate, you fixed yourself and ran down outside before one of your maids could reach your door to inform you about Seungmin’s arrival. You got faster than expected as you were so excited to see him.

“Seungmin!” You called as the prince from the other kingdom got startled at your presence. He is actually expecting to see you and have told Chan about his purpose. Even the king and queen were delighted to see him, and of course, to plan a sudden wedding.

“She’s all yours, take care of her okay? After you’re done we’ll talk inside.” Chan said as he smiled seeing you tackling Seungmin with a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here. We have a lot to talk about Seungmin.” Your mother said as she followed Chan inside with her husband.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, looking up to him, with tears in your eyes. Seungmin kissed your forehead as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I’m here to take you back.” He said. “My father is going to cancel my fixed marriage and uphold a meeting instead. I couldn’t bear seeing myself seeing someone else Y/n, but you.” He added as he became emotional himself. “I don’t want to hurry things up but I just wanted to make sure.” And there he kneels down with one knee, showing you a ring that was hidden on Seunghoon’s small box that he had stumbled on last night. It turns out that he should be proposing to Eunseo but it never happened and so he kept the ring. Seungmin discovered it after his father dismissed him, dragging the scared Soobin with him. “Will you marry me?” He spoke, it was so sudden and it wasn’t formal, you were still in your night gown and everyone could see you in front of the porch. “The wedding is not going to be held soon but in the future, I just wanted to make sure that I have your answer before—”

He was cut off when you kneeled in front of him, embracing his body. “I will. Yes!” Then, you heard Seungmin chuckled as he stood up with you, holding your hand as he placed the ring in your finger.

“I have so much to tell you, Y/n.” He said as you smiled at him.

“We’ll talk about that later.” You said and kissed him softly. He smiled between the kiss as he pulled you closer to him.

“I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.”

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑.

[of-birds-and-men]

Kass gave Link a warm smile, the early morning sun dipping him in honey and making his smile glow even more. “Well, this is quite out of the blue. Not even a ‘hello?’ Much less a ‘please?’”

Link’s lips snapped into a flustered frown. “I’m sorry,” he frantically signed. “Please, could you teach me?”

After throwing his head back to bellow a laugh, Kass chuckled, “I am only messing with you, my friend. Do not worry.” He patted the spot next to him on the landing where he sat, signaling Link to sit by him. “I’m curious about what song you want to play. Which is it?”

Accepting the invitation to sit next to Kass, Link kept his head down as he shuffled over. His eyes flicked around and his cheeks started to redden the slightest bit. Why the answer embarrassed him so much, he wasn’t so sure, but it was hard to get his reply out.

“Ah,” Kass said with his smile still prominent on his beak as he set his accordion down next to him. “Do you mean to learn the other Champions’ songs as well?”

Link breathed in through his teeth and shrugged. “Maybe. But I want to learn Revali’s right now if I can...”

Kass looked down at him with raised eyebrows, as if gently urging him to elaborate. 

With that, Link rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged again. “Well...I don’t know. I had some memories come to me, but they’re foggy and I can barely understand them. But, something is telling me today is Revali’s…” His hand dropped and his brow furrowed in thought. He knew the sign for the Hylian term but didn’t know it for the Rito if there even was one for it. Opting to fingerspell, Link spelled it out with his fingers as Kass read it closely.

When he was finished, Kass’s beak hung open a little in interest. “Oh, so today is Champion Revali’s Hatchday? I had no idea.”

“Yeah, I…”

“...I think so.”

“You mean to play his song in his memory today?”

Link’s cheeks burned brighter. “Is that stupid?”

“Oh, no. Not in the slightest,” Kass assured, waving his hand. “In fact, I think it’s a lovely idea.”

“...Thanks. I don’t know what else I would do anyway. If there was something, I don’t remember it,” Link said, his hands moving slowly. His mind drifted; not that there was anywhere for it to go after his century-long sleep practically wiped it clean. 

He brought himself back to where he was with a sigh. “I don’t know. I would do something or leave him a gift, but I remember next to nothing about him. I don’t remember what he liked or even what he hated. Nothing...”

It was true. There were only a couple of clear memories of Revali that Link remembered now. Only a few moments where Link could see his face and hear his voice clearly. And then there were even more blurry, foggy images of him that were slowly trickling in and left Link with more questions than answers. Leaving him feeling like there was so much more that he was missing. Almost like he was missing an important part of himself; of what his life had been before Calamity Ganon struck.

Really, it was the same thing with everyone; with Zelda, Mipha, Urbosa, and Daruk. Brief memories, some clear and some so hazy they were beyond recognition.

But with Revali, it was somehow different. It hurt more. It was severely more painful. It made both his heart and head ache. And he had no idea why it was the case for Revali out of all of them. Why the one who seemed to like him the least, or even hated him, made Link feel this longing...No, this need...to remember and know him like he used to. However it had been.

Still, even though his mind was riddled by all sorts of questions he couldn’t answer after forgetting everything but his own name…

Something within him couldn’t quite let itself completely forget.

“But I know that I have to do something for him and this is all I can think of,” Link finished, taking his time with every hand motion as he stared down at the lake below them; the surface of the water was almost black with the light of the morning sun not having reached it yet.

Noticing the gloom that was beginning to dawn on Link again, Kass leaned over and spoke up in a chipper voice. “It is more than a generous gift. Do not sell yourself short. I’m sure that if he is still there to listen, he will be grateful.” 

Link forced a small smile to give to Kass. “Thank you. I hope you’re right.”

Kass let the corners of his beak curl all the way up to try and settle whatever troubles he thought Link had. “I must say though, I did not take you for the musical type,” he began. “What does a man like you play?”

Letting out a short hum, Link fumbled around in the small bag on his belt to show the instrument in question. Once he fished it out, he held it out for Kass to see.

It was an ocarina he had come across in his travels. His curiosity had driven him to buy it with the extra rupees he had on hand when he saw it amongst Beedle’s wares. Though, it wasn’t until he actually held it and felt the cool ceramic touch on his skin and the shape in his hands, did he realize it was not so much curiosity as it was familiarity. Or something close to it.

And again, it was proven to Link that while his head was clear of what made him himself in the past, there were many things that his body seemed to remember. Muscle memory helped him ride horses like a pro straight away, and instinct along with that allowed him to fight the way he had before without needing to relearn much of anything. It was the same sort of thing for the ocarina; as soon as he brought the mouthpiece to his lips, his fingers knew exactly where to go to play notes he didn’t remember and songs he couldn’t recall. It all came to him naturally as if playing it was once something that was ingrained in him. And he found himself occasionally fiddling with it until now. Too busy to really sit down and learn anything new, but playing what his lips and fingers remembered when he had a moment to himself.

If Link couldn’t leave Revali a proper gift on his Hatchday, then at least he could play his song, one of the last things the world had left to remember him by. Whether it was for Revali himself, if he was still there, or if it was in his memory on his day.

Or, even if it was just for Link; a way to remember Revali with what little he had left.

Hopefully, it would be enough. But it definitely didn’t feel like it, even if it was all he could really do.

“An ocarina certainly does suit you,” Kass said, looking at the instrument in Link’s hands before peering at him and pointing at it. “Ah, may I?”

Link nodded, allowing Kass to take the ocarina in his hands and examine it himself.

“Can you play it, too?” Link asked.

Tittering, Kass replied, “Well, Rito aren’t exactly equipped to play wind instruments, considering our anatomy.” He tapped his beak. “Though, I think once I found a way around it to make it work with this blasted thing on my face. Would you mind if I tried?”

Link’s lips tightly creased together to keep him from smirking as he shook his head and motioned toward the ocarina. He watched as Kass brought it to his beak, which clacked against the ceramic as he tried to find the best position.

Kass’ feathers ruffled; clearly, he was flustered, but he tried his best to get past it by laughing it off. “Well, this is certainly humbling. This proves that no matter how esteemed of a bard I may be, I simply cannot master everything...What with my pesky beak and less than graceful fingers.” He rubbed the mouthpiece of the ocarina on his scarf before handing it back to Link.

With how much spit he saw flying from Kass when he was trying the ocarina, Link decided to rub it again on his clothes for good measure. 

Kass let out another embarrassed chuckle and twisted around to grab his accordion. “I might not be able to give you direction, but I can teach you the notes.”

Link nodded. “That works,” he said, his last words before readying his hands to focus on his ocarina rather than on speaking.

Smiling while he slid his hands through his instrument’s straps, Kass said, “Well, let’s begin then.”

~

Link opened his mouth to say something, finding himself gaping at Vah Medoh, but clamped it shut again. He attached the ocarina to his belt for a moment to speak with his hands.

Whether he was really alone or if there was still someone there to see him, he was not sure at all. After the defeat of Ganon, he was never sure what happened to Revali or the others.

Even so...he had the feeling he wasn’t quite alone.

But maybe that was just him being hopeful. Hopeful that he wasn’t just making a fool of himself. Grasping at straws for nothing.

“Hi.” Instantly, he cringed at himself and hissed through his teeth. Now he really felt stupid. Nonetheless, he made himself go on. “I’m not sure if you’re even here right now or if I’m talking to myself. But, either way-“ Link took a second to swallow and fix his eyes back down to the ground beneath him. “I wish I could say I remember you. There are only little things I remember, but something is telling me there’s so much more to you...to us...that I’m still missing.”

Link licked his lips. He hoped that he was, in fact, alone, so Revali wouldn’t be seeing him rambling on to himself.

“But I know that we were close somehow. I feel that, once, you were the most important thing to me, but that’s all I know. I’m sorry.” He bit his lip that was still wet from when he licked them. “That’s why when I remembered it was your birthday-“ Link froze, then corrected, “Sorry, hatchday...I knew I had to do something for you, because, in a way, you still matter to me now as much as you did before. But you’re still a mystery to me; I know nothing about you further than you being a Champion and being the pride of your people.” He laughed a little to himself. “And that you didn’t like me at all. At first, at least. I’m not sure.”

Finally, he racked up the courage to look back up at Vah Medoh. “I do know your song though, which I’m sure you’d like to know is played by bards to keep your memory alive. I’m not one of those at all, but I can just barely remember how to play this thing and Kass taught me how to play your song. One of the things of yours that’s still here- Even if these are all the memories I can ever have of you, at least I can have this. And your bow, too.”

Nervously, he started to chuckle to himself. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe I never should’ve said anything. Anyway, the point is...I know it’s a crummy present and I don’t know if you’re even still here to listen, but I learned how to play your song for you.”

Done with his monologue, Link anxiously took the ocarina off of his belt. For a moment, he stared at it and focused on the cool touch of it in his hand before slowly bringing it up to his mouth. He took in a deep breath while his fingers went to their places and he played what he learned for Revali.

Dormant, Vah Medoh said nothing in reply, leaving Revali alone to revel in both Link’s appearance and song. That was fine. He honestly hadn’t expected her to reply anyway.

Even when he couldn’t even remember him, Link was still annoyingly sentimental. It brought bittersweet comfort that, even with everything that had happened, it was still the same Link before him. His Link.

He had the same golden hair he used to run his fingers through. The same lustrous, sapphire eyes he used to stare into. The same quiet laugh that warmed Revali’s heart. The same strength that Revali both envied and once fell in love with. The same kindness. The same courage. The same everything. Every little thing Revali loved and even hated about him was still there, down below, playing a song for someone he didn’t even know anymore.

Still, it hurt knowing Link didn’t know him. Seeing no recollection on his face when Link first came to Vah Medoh...Seeing Link looking at him as if he was a stranger…

Well, it nearly broke his heart. To be eventually forgotten by his people was worse enough, but then to have the one he loved come back to him only to forget him, too…

Revali sniffed, resting his hand under his chin to watch Link far down below. 

Link was right. This was a crummy present. His finger clumsily fumbled around and he kept blowing into the ocarina’s mouthpiece too hard or too soft. Even from here, he could see his spit flying. Funny how, even over a hundred years later, he never did get better with that thing.

He really was still his Link. Just how he remembered him. Just how he loved him. How he would, unfortunately, always love him. Even if it meant being unrequited for the rest of time.

~~~

GASPS OUT OF BREATH,,,,,, WOW OKAY,, umm LOL here is le @revalinkexchange gift for @mars-janka ??? I. hm. certainly took some liberties and for some reason with my srs lack of expertise ..I was like “HEY I KNOW HOW TO MAKE THIS INFINITELY HARDER ON MYSELF!!! WRITE AND ALSO DRAW A BILLION PICTURES WHICH IS SOMETHING I BARELY KNOW HOW 2 DO.” 

//sobs// i was so drained of my life juices by the end that the quality DROPPED and im genuinely so sorry pls forgive me wwwwwwwwwwww- i even redrew the last link panels to try and make it better if u can believe it LOL i also was considering making a prose only version of this to make up for it but i honestly don’t know how to translate some bits to that...SO- ah

anyway...yaaaaaaaahhh happy valentine’s day!! hope u still like it despite my clear depletion of life juices dskjghkjag

also teehee ty @udog​ for helping me w vah medoh u smell