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nocturne-inuyasha-ff · 3 years

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Chapter Twenty Four: Vindication

Author's Notes: Thank you for your patience! Apologies for the long hiatus. Who knows what I was doing, but thank you to those who have taken the time to read and leave words of inspiration. Muchos Gracias!

Nocturne - Chapter Twenty Four: Vindication

Rated - M (for suggestive adult themes, references to violence, and coarse language)

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

Sango had worry eating away at her. Yesterday was very troubling, and she knew that danger was on the horizon. She had no idea when Miroku would return, and it was unsettling to have her family split when they were all utterly unprepared for what was to come.

So much time had passed since the first altercation years ago that Sango had grown complacent. The entire village had.

It was a thankful thing that her brother had brought the clan of taijiya to the village, bolstering a new age of demon hunters. If any group of people stood a chance against an army of demon spawn, it was the taijiya clan, her clan.

She was proud of the progress they'd made in a few short years. Granted, the new clan was not as skilled or experienced as the village of her birth, but they made up for what they lacked in enthusiasm and numbers.

Sango's original taijiya clan had been small and exclusive. Their numbers had waned over the years due to their work's reclusive nature, and, ultimately, the village - consisting of elders and children - was eliminated while they were unprotected.

She took in a deep breath and released it slowly, reflecting on the travesty and praying there was not a repeat. No, Sango thought. Her brother, Kohaku, had done his best to ensure there was not.

No longer was the profession of demon-slaying an exclusive venture. While her husband, Miroku, traveled, he spread the prospering village's news and its peculiar inhabitants. People would flock from all over, searching for people who had experienced loss or pain at the hands of troublesome yokai. These people had come by choice and learned to protect all they held dear from a mightier force.

Sango prayed that the enthusiasm held by her new people was enough to combat the oncoming horde.

It had been a couple of days since Kagome had come to visit, and she remained faithful to her word, staying at hand until the birth of Rin and Kohaku's first child. As Miroku was still away with the twins, Kagome and her daughter Setsuna stayed with Sango and her two boys.

Although Kagome had initially come to put distance between herself and Sesshomaru, the daiyokai had followed her after the village was attacked. He was right in doing so since it was likely due to his presence that they weren't accosted anymore. That in its self was A testament to his solitary strength.

Lord Sesshomaru had not left either, remaining close if danger were to rear its ugly head. As much as Sango did not want to admit it, the daiyokai lord was rather unsettling. His cold manner and piercing gaze was enough to make anyone feel uncomfortable.

Sango wasn't sure what Kagome saw in his unyielding character, but maybe it was the way he looked at her. His eyes passed over everyone like they were not worthy of his time or recognition, but when they settled on Kagome, there was something profound. The daiyokai would be remiss in knowing that his covert and subtle mannerisms had been discovered and by a human no less.

Sango cleared her head, tidying up her home and readying a quick breakfast for her children. She felt rushed to finish these mundane chores and get out for some strategic planning, but they couldn't live in constant fear. That would defeat the purpose of living, yet it could not be helped at the moment.

The entire village was on standby, but most village elders did not believe an attack would come since the spies had been flushed out. However, Sango vehemently disagreed. Her brother, Kohaku, also felt accordingly. It was better to prepare for an attack, especially when the enemy had shown their hand.

A tapping from outside could be heard, breaking Sango from her inner musings. She wondered who could be at the door. Anyone else would just walk in.

Sango looked around the room, chewing her bottom lip. The boys were still asleep in the other room since it was still relatively early in the morning, but they should be up very soon. Kagome and her daughter, Setsuna, had left at first light to make some morning rounds, so it could not be them. She quickly picked up a small kitchen dagger and tucked it up her sleeve, just in case.

She walked to the door and pulled the sudare up to greet the guest at the door. Sango's eyes bulged, and her mouth dropped open. She allowed the knife to fall from her sleeve and brandished it expertly before her. There was no time for words when an enemy was upon your doorstep, and Sango was not about to allow a treacherous snake to roam free.

"Wait! Please," the woman on Sango's doorstep pleaded.

Sango ignored the plea and threw the knife at the woman, knowing it would likely be dodged but giving her time to retrieve her bone boomerang. She cursed herself under her breath for not grabbing it on the way to the door. Before she could get half a step, her arm was snapped up in a vice-like grip and forcefully twisted around.

Sango was compelled to look at the woman straight in her golden eyes. "I said….wait. I don't want to hurt you," the woman said in a calm, urgent tone.

o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o

Kagome had taken Setsuna with her to check on Rin. The stress from the unknown was causing early contractions in the young woman, and Kagome had ordered Rin to strict bed rest. Rin would never admit that she was feeling under the weather. She was the type to always downplay everything, even at the expense of her health. Fortunately, Kagome had learned a thing or two about pregnancy and baby birthing from Kaede before her untimely passing.

Kagome walked from Rin's home with a sigh. Setsuna had elected to remain behind to keep Rin company while Kohaku was out and about. The young man could not stay with his pregnant wife and command the taijiya at the same time. Kohaku was reluctant to leave Rin's side but was appeased to know that she would be under Kagome's care.

Her hands felt sweaty with apprehension, and she wiped them on her skirts. Kagome reassured herself, adjusting the bowstring strapped over her shoulder. She'd procured a new bow shortly after ruining the last one and now carried it with her everywhere.

It wasn't as if she'd truly need it. She was not wholly defenseless despite being human. Her spiritual powers granted her unique offensive and defensive skills; however, they were mostly unhoned.

Kagome was able to channel her powers into an arrow, something she'd mastered early on. Still, she'd never trained on other skills, mainly relying on instinct and her body's self-defense mechanisms. She found comfort in knowing the weapon was there, though, with so many allies around, and she would have little need for it.

She closed her eyes as she walked and drew upon her seldom-used power. She allowed her senses to broaden and pick up the aura of those near. Kagome could feel people around her, in houses and hurrying to and fro. Each person's aura held a unique sensation that evoked a feeling, and she "saw" the colors spiking and swirling about.

There was comfort in using her power this way, but it took great effort and concentration. She scolded herself for not honing her skills more, especially now that they would become useful when a time presented itself. Well, there was no need to wallow in despair for what was in the past now.

A warm, vibrant yellow aura approached, and Kagome knew precisely who it was, and her eyes opened slowly. Any villager out and about gave him a wide berth, hurrying to be out of his path.

Sesshomaru kept his eyes on his quarry while he strolled almost casually forward. From the set of his eyes, Kagome could tell his entrance was anything but casual.

Once he reached her, he looked over her head. "Setsuna?" He questioned.

"With Rin," Kagome responded. She saw his jaw clench, causing his cheek to twitch. "What's wrong?"

His silence was telling, but it was his first question that piqued Kagome's apprehension. Sesshomaru would not have asked where their daughter if he was not worried. Something was going on that he did not want the girl to be a part of.

Sesshomaru pushed a loose strand of hair behind his ear and closed his eyes briefly. "A guest is waiting at the taijiya's residence."

Kagome sped off without another word, knowing that Sesshomaru was close behind. She couldn't imagine who the guest would be but silently hoped it was a friend. It had been years since anyone had heard from Shippo, his training had taken him out of touch with his family and friends, but Kagome knew it was for a good reason.

It could have been him, though, why his appearance would unsettle Sesshomaru was unknown. Perhaps her young friend was now formidable and came home. That would be a shock, for sure, and Kagome did miss him. She shook the thoughts from her head and made her way to Sango's home, where she could hear voices carrying from inside.

"Please, they are coming!" a woman's desperate voice called.

Kagome's heart dropped when she entered the house, laying eyes on an all-too-familiar face. One that haunted her dreams unbidden.

"Tsering," Kagome hissed derisively, the name like acid on her tongue.

The woman turned at the sound of her name, her visage just as pleading as her trembling voice. Despite her disheveled, sallow appearance, she was still resplendent in her silks and long, silver hair.

Kagome swallowed and did her best to keep her back straight, but not rigid, entering and moving to stand beside Sango who's arms were crossed beneath her chest.

"You have to listen; it won't be long," Tsering cried.

"This we know," Sesshomaru's voice spoke clearly into the room, his baritone resounding throughout.

Tears began to run freely down the woman's cheeks. It was quite an unusual sight to witness a yokai cry. Kagome doubted they were capable, but here one was elegantly sobbing before them.

"You don't understand," Tsering lamented pitifully. "They are here….they have been here. It is a miracle they have not attacked now!"

As if on queue, Inuyasha dashed into the house, his nose in the air and Tessaiga at the ready. "I fucking knew I smelled something pathetic wafting from this house."

Tsering's tears shored up upon Inuyasha's arrival, and she gave him a deadpan look, though her yellow eyes wavered. "I implore you all to listen to reason."

"Fuck, it's a trick. Kill that bitch!" Inuyasha demanded and leveled Tessaiga with one hand towards the woman's exposed throat.

Her eyes grew large, the whites exposed in fear. "No! I beg of you. I am a victim of my brother's madness. I-I can help. Please allow me to assist." Tsering's fists were curled into tiny balls, the skin drawn taut over her knuckles.

Sesshomaru sneered at the woman. "You cannot help."

Tsering threw herself down at Sesshomaru's feet and grappled at his clothes, but he stepped quickly out of reach. "I can!" She assured. "I know my brother! He would not kill me; he is afraid to do so!" She shuffled on her knees towards Sesshomaru, her hands now clasped before her. "Please…"

She looked worn and defeated.

"What of the DaiOzuko?" Sesshomaru asked suspiciously. "They would never permit such a heinous act to occur." He seemed to know more of the yokai clan than he had ever let on, which perturbed Kagome to consider.

"They do not know that my brother has such capricious tastes," Tsering advised. She looked around the room, pausing to look at each person for effect.

Kagome held little pity for this woman. Why would she throw herself at their feet now? Wouldn't it be safer to ride this out on the same side as her brother? This all seemed too easy.

She looked down her nose, crossing her arms. "You knew, and you did nothing to stop it. Why do you care now?"

Tsering dithered, ashamed to speak, but did so nonetheless. "I was foolish and naive. I am no longer those things. My eyes are opened to my treachery, and I throw myself at your feet for forgiveness."

"Keh," Inuyasha interjected. "It's not us you should be throwing yourself at." He still held Tessaiga in a threatening fashion, ready to slice the woman in two should she make a wrong move. Sesshomaru held up a warning hand to his brother, which Inuyasha sneered at openly.

Tsering dawdled for a moment, struggling to understand whom Inuyasha was referencing. She looked Inuyasha up and down and lit up when it hit her. "Keyuri! My most valued attendant! I had never allowed her to suffer under my hands!"

Sango had heard enough, finally adding to the conversation. "The woman cannot speak, yet you dare to assert you had no hand in this?"

"I confess that I treated her as a servant, but no more. She was treated well in my care, if not a little coldly." Tsering postulated desperately. She rose and picked at her many-layered robes.

Inuyasha scoffed. "She trembles at the sight of you, bitch!" He was not convinced and gripped his sword with white knuckles.

Tsering nodded, closing her eyes and furrowing her brow. "As Keyuri should, for I bear the likeness to the one who created her and maimed her." She was referring to her brother, Fan, they all knew.

Inuyasha growled, planting the tip of Tessaiga in the ground. "Her name is Shizuka, and she is your own flesh and blood, but you sent her on a suicide mission years ago. Now you are here begging for mercy." He sneered, a lip pulling up to expose fangs. "You won't fucking find it here." He took a step forward; his left hand clawed menacingly before him. His voice dropped in into a threatening low pitch. "Fuck off before I change my mind and end you."

Tsering kneeled in disbelief, looking about at the people surrounding her for any kind of support...albeit in vain. "Y-you cannot send me out there alone and unprotected. My brother may not kill me, but those...those things may."

Sesshomaru adopted a similar sneer, though his was far less feral, yet far more threatening. "Have some respect for yourself, woman. You are daiyokai. What fear should you have of hanyo scum." He didn't phrase it as a question, letting the words roll out like the insult it was.

The yokai woman stood with trembling knees, her brow knitting together again in fear. "Please! You don't understand! They...they are all very powerful. Fan does not create usual offspring."

Sango scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, spare us your moaning."

The woman's countenance was pallid and her eyes wide with fear. As much as it pained her to admit, Kagome felt there was weight to Tsering's words that could not go unheeded. "Wait. Hear her out."

She took a brief moment to compile herself. Tsering sucked in a ragged breath in an attempt to keep any hysterics from creeping into her words. "He has a sick mind. He only dreams of creating the perfect specimen." She paused to moisten her lips, searching for the words. "He searches out rumors of women who possess powers or are descendants of those with such powers to..to copulate with."

Sango and Kagome made disgusted faces in unison. Inuyasha looked incredulous while Sesshomaru held his typical expression of stoicism. The man didn't even raise a brow. What Tsering had told them was perturbing, but none denied her words, knowing they held the truth. Kagome recalled what she had seen at Fan's palace...the heavily expectant mortal woman pacing a room lined with hungry-looking yokai. She shivered at the thought of whatever became of that woman and dreamed about her unexpected fate often.

Sesshomaru's voice broke her from the unpleasant memory. "How did you know the truth of which you speak if you have only just learned of their existence." He had to have known, suspected at least, the inner workings of Fan's retinue. Perhaps his question was designed to delve into Tsering's complicity.

Tsering dithered, wringing her hands. "I overheard and pieced it together before I fled."

He remained unconvinced and waved her explanation away. "You claim otherwise, but you are still a fool. You only heard what you were allowed to hear. Just as you were allowed to arrive so easily." Sesshomaru had heard enough, turning to cut a brief look to Kagome. The look was an unspoken bidding, and Kagome nodded her understanding.

Tsering took an affronted step back. She hadn't expected to be dismissed so easily. This was probably a first for her, at least the first in several lifetimes.

Sesshomaru strode outside with his eyes forward and ignoring the mewling woman. Tsering ducked out of his way, and Kagome followed, eyeing the yokai woman studiously as she passed. Tsering's eyes were wide and pleading, much as her story had been, but it wasn't enough to draw pity from anyone here.

Once outside, Kagome continued after Sesshomaru for a few yards before he stopped, holding a hand up to gesture she stop as well. His head turned slightly, his hand still raised, and Kagome felt her breath catch. His keen senses had picked up some sound. She looked around, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. She steadied her breathing; she needed to be calm to focus and search for an unknown aura. It was tiny at first; her eyes snapped open with realization. "I feel it," she exclaimed aloud.

"Where?" Sesshomaru questioned.

Her eyes scanned through the houses, trying to see beyond with no success. "Not far. The outskirts of the village...Close to the Goshinboku tree. I-I think I can feel it moving in waves."

He took a step, ready to move, but was stopped by the scream of a woman from the village's opposite side. Kagome swiveled towards the sound. Another scream erupted from the north and then the south until sounds of discord came from every direction.

"We're too late," Kagome lamented quietly. Despite having years to prepare, it still did not feel like enough time. Decades did not seem long enough for mortals to combat yokai; even the hanyo they would face may significantly exceed the abilities of highly trained taijiya.

Sesshomaru moved beside her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "The taijiya has trained his people well." It was the only reassurance he would afford, and Kagome knew it was one of the highest praises a human could receive. "Is it still emanating from the same area?" he asked, referring to the aura she felt.

"Yes, traces of it." Her miko skills were relatively unhoned, and while she was powerful in ability, raw power paled in comparison to honed skills.

"They have us surrounded!" Inuyasha bellowed as he ran towards them with Tetsusaiga in hand. His eyes momentarily fell upon Sesshomaru's hand on her shoulder, but his gaze quickly tore away, almost embarrassed to see the display.

A slight feathering of his jaw was the only amount of tension that Sesshomaru displayed. His golden gaze remained stoic despite the precariousness of the situation. "Rally the taijiya. The head of this snake must be cut off swiftly." He swept away as soon as the words left his mouth, up and away towards the Goshinboku tree.

Inuyasha gripped Testsusaiga tightly, his knuckles white against the strain. "Shizuka," he whispered faintly and tore into a sprint in the same direction as his brother. The house he once shared with Kagome lay near the old tree that dwelled in the vicinity. Shizuka was likely at the house, unprotected, and Inuyasha feared for her safety. He disappeared quickly, leaving Kagome alone to rush the news to Kohaku.

Without a second thought, Kagome ran. The village had grown quite exponentially in the past few years. New houses needed to be erected to accommodate the growing number of people that had moved to swell the taijiya ranks. She ran to the outskirt post where Kohaku was giving out orders to the ranks of slayers. Screams could be heard everywhere, indicating that the attack was coming from all sides, likely to disorient and confuse.

Kagome could feel a hitch in her chest by the time she'd reached a post of slayers gathered in unison, prepared for battle. They all had weapons at the ready and eyed her with apprehension. Most were young and untried, with only a few older battle-worn slayers amongst the ranks. Hopefully, it would be enough.

She glanced around desperately to find Kohaku. He had to know that the enemy was upon them, but it was still her duty to report and see how she could help. Afterward, she had to find and ensure that Setsuna was still safe with Rin. The thought of her daughter out with the commotion going on made her breath catch. With an exhalation of breath, she cleared her mind to focus on the task at hand.

Kagome pushed through the ranks of nervous taijiya until she finally spotted Kohaku. He had his weapon in hand and a hardened look set upon his face. His words were curt and succinct because there was no time to mollify the unseasoned ranks.

"Look for the weak spot!" He barked. "There is always one to be had. They already know yours!". He turned quickly to address another set of young players when he spotted her. His face became worried, and she trotted over. "Lady Kagome?"

Without hesitation, Kagome advised what she'd seen. "I can feel his presence near the southern border of the village. There may be others as well."

Kohaku nodded his understanding. "He's sending out scouts to distract us on all sides. I will send contingent parties to each of the village borders."

"Where shall I go," she cut in.

He grimaced and looked around. "Honestly, your power can be best utilized guarding the women and children."

Kagome figured as much and was thankful to be assigned where Setsuna may also be. However, Kohaku had likely forgotten that his wife was now in active labor and could not be moved. "And Rin?" She asked quietly.

"Setsuna is with her?" He asked through a clenched jaw.

She nodded an affirmative, and Kohaku narrowed his eyes in thought. "We must hope that they go unnoticed," he advised after a few seconds of thought. "Setsuna, I know, despite her age, is capable of handling a threat."

"I hope so, too," Kagome said aloud. Her tone betrayed the assurance she had intended to belay. There would be no time now to go and check on Setsuna. Kagome would need to rely on the girl's training and heritage and push her mother's worry down for the time being.

Kohaku finished rallying this group of slayers, pointing them in various directions. He'd quickly appointed three of his more experienced taijiya to accompany Kagome. Two young men and one woman, all dressed in varying armors that had been pieced together from slain demons, gathered in front of her with their weapons. Despite the relative experience the three young slayers shared, they all looked equally nervous.

A roar bellowed in the sky above them, and one of the men jerked in response, his jaw slack as he peered up in the sky. Twin lines of flame followed the large body of a nekomata as it descended with a rider wielding a mighty boomerang. It seemed Sango had quickly changed and beckoned Kirara to hitch a ride. Sango dropped off the sizeable imposing nekomata before the cat landed and looked around at the three slayers who stared in awe.

"Sango!" Kohaku called.

Sango nodded and thrust her weapon into the ground with minimal effort. "Brother. Everything is in place." She looked over to Kagome with pleading eyes that asked an unspoken question.

"Hachiro, Etsu, and Shig will go with Lady Kagome. Their skills are honed." Kohaku vaulted onto Kirara's back, looking down on them all.

Sango nodded and looked them up and down quickly, quietly reassuring herself. These three were all that could be spared from the assault of countless hanyo whose powers likely far exceeded any of the taijiya. The plan now was to funnel the vulnerable villagers, elders, women, and children to a heavily defended area inside the village - homes that had recently been fortified - and had a select team guard them. The heavy truth was that the vulnerable citizens were sitting ducks if an enemy decided to go after them. There were only four, including herself, to protect dozens of people; they would be spread thin. With any luck, Sesshomaru would be able to dispose of Fan Tsenpo and his bastard army with the help of Inuyasha and Kohaku's taijiya.

Sango plucked up her weapon like it was but a twig and jumped behind her brother. "Please take care of them," she said resolutely, forcing the words out. Her children were being guarded with the other vulnerable, too young to fight. Her words reverberated through Kagome. She gave a short nod, and Kirara jumped up into the air carrying the siblings off towards the Goshinboku tree.

Kagome looked at taijiya, who remained with her, biting the inside of her cheek to fight a grimace. "Let's move quickly."

The trio fanned out and made separate paths towards the village's inner perimeter, where the citizens were waiting the battle out. Able-bodied villagers from all over were frantically rushing around. Though many were not trained for slaying, they would not let their village be tormented without putting up a fight. Pitchforks and other rudimentary farming tools were brought to arms and carried to fill in the ranks of the taijiya. Kagome could feel their auras, mixed with fear and determination, passing by as they hurried to their posts. The entire village had been prepped for this day, and they'd had six years to do so, yet even a detailed plan can crumble apart in the throes of a real battle at their feet.

Kagome hurried along a path that took her to the outskirts of the village. It wasn't a direct route to where the elderly, women, and children would bunker down; she couldn't convince herself to go straight there without checking on Setsuna and Rin. She prayed that Rin wouldn't have the baby just yet. Now was not the best time, and to do it without any help or guidance was nearly a death sentence for a woman and infant in these times. Setsuna was with her, but the girl was wholly unprepared and ignorant of these things.

The house could be viewed in the distance, nestled within the village itself several dwellings in. It was more diminutive and unassuming, hopefully, commonplace enough to prevent any yokai or hanyou from being drawn to the place. Kagome slowed down, trying to catch her breath. No smoke or screams were coming from the direction she was headed, which was a relief, but the sounds of battle could be heard in the distance. She whipped her head around, seeing empty pathways in front of her except for the odd person dashing by to make for cover. Looking over her shoulder, she saw nothing but felt a bizarre prickling sensation on the back of her neck.

The clearing before the forest looked serene. Kagome reached out to feel if there were any hanyo lurking out of sight. She could feel nothing but cold. 'Perhaps they had been held off on the other side of the village?' she wondered. It was entirely possible with what the bastards were up against. Sesshomaru would show no mercy.

She continued until the clattering of metal and grunts of exasperation became clear from behind her. A taijiya woman rolled into view with a small blade that she brought up to her face just in time to block the strike of a pair of sickle blades. The wielder of the sickle blades was a short-haired hanyo with black streaks up the sides. It was difficult to discern their gender from where she stood, but it was clear that the taijiya was struggling. The woman was sent back several feet upon the impact to her blade, obviously not her primary weapon, and rolled again to avoid the twin sickles that struck the ground with deadly force.

Kagome turned and ran towards the embattled pair, pulling her bow from her shoulder and notching an arrow without breaking stride. The young taijiya moved to stand, only able to place one foot under herself before her heel was swept up and out by a sweeping kick from the hanyo. She was thrown onto her back with a loud thud, knocking the air from her lungs and causing a strangled gasp. The hanyo casually knocked the blade from her hands and placed a foot on her chest to hold her in place.

The hanyo smirked, raising one sickle up to make a killing blow. Kagome began to channel spirit energy into the arrow. What once came effortlessly now felt a struggle. The holy power kept slipping from her grasp every time she managed to grab hold of a thread. The hanyo's sickle began to lower when Kagome realized she had no time, losing the arrow devoid of divine energy to knock the sickle from its grasp.

He looked up with golden eyes; surprise and annoyance flickered across his face. "Bitch!" he called out with a male tenor. "You'll die next!"

Kagome had already pulled another arrow and attempted to channel the energy again. "Like hell, I will!" She shouted defiantly and with internal frustration that she was unable to focus the power into the arrow.

The hanyo's brow rose in recognition. He practically ignored the slayer beneath him, who vainly struggled against the foot that kept her pinned down. "You! Miko-bitch."

The arrow Kagome aimed at his face was quickly deflected by the remaining sickle-blade he wielded. He grunted in annoyance as if he had swatted away a fly. "I doubt I will get in much trouble for roughing you up." He sneered with arrogance built into him from countless years of unmatched aggression. How long had Fan Tsenpo kept his bastards cooped up? This one seemed mad with unspent energy that was disastrous for most he would encounter.

"You'd die," Kagome replied. Her tone was resolute and firm. Either by her hand or another's, this hanyou would die if he so much as touched her. She reached for another arrow behind her back but stopped when the hanyou feinted with his sickle blade towards the taijiya beneath him. The woman - young girl, Kagome realized - had dirty tear tracks down her cheeks, but she did not cry out. The hanyo glanced down at his prey and back up at her in a manner that suggested a dilemma. She also realized the dilemma was hers; he could kill the girl first, and her hesitation made that fact known. His threat was clear, and he would kill the girl if Kagome fired her arrow.

She did not have to think long before a loud, keeling cry pierced through the sky. It was unlike anything ever heard before. The sound carried like a shockwave reverberating with anguish and rage—quite a cacophony of sounds that caught everyone off guard, drawing their gazes away. Something awful had happened, she knew, but her attention snapped back to the brute who had also been momentarily distracted.

The spirit energy finally seemed corporeal enough to grab, and she channeled that energy into the arrow even after it began its flight. Twin tails of white light trailed off the arrow as it spiraled towards its target. Even if the hanyo was able to deflect the shot, he would still be consumed. He tried to deflect the shot, but his attempt was in vain. The arrow struck him in the chest with a grotesque thud, the force of the blow throwing him back and off the taijiya.

Kagome sprinted forward and leaned over the woman, whose eyes were wide with shock. She trembled beneath Kagome's gentle hands. "It's alright" - she cut her neck to ensure the yokai wouldn't get back up. Interestingly, his body sizzled - trails of smoke rose as if he'd been roasted over an open flame, and while his face was no longer visible, his silver hair was now inky black. Kagome shook her head in disbelief. That was something she would have to wrap her mind around later.

"He's dead. You did well holding him off." The young woman trembled and blinked below her, still working through the shock once her battle adrenaline had subsided.

"Let's get you up." Kagome went to move her right hand but found it would not respond. The young girl's eyes which had been wide before, now bulged, and Kagome noticed dark liquid blooming beneath a jagged silver ornament adorning the girl's neck. Realization dawned, much too late. The girl, whose name Kagome did not know, gurgled, bloody foam peeking from her mouth as she made a vain attempt at speech.

The jagged silver ornament, really a jagged, serrated blade, twisted in the girl's throat and was pulled out. An agonizing pain ripped through Kagome's shoulder when the sword that had pierced it from behind was removed. The blade had been sharpened to perfection, sliding like butter through her skin, muscle, and tendons to the point where she hadn't even noticed.

Once the blade had been twisted and yanked through, Kagome screamed and fell backward. Her attempt to catch herself was met with a low insidious chuckle. "What's wrong, little miko?"

Kagome felt the blood drain from her face; probably to seep from her now open wound. She clutched at the hole near her chest and inhaled a sob from the pain. Hot, sticky blood poured over her fingers and continued down her arm. Over her head, a familiar figure stepped and leaned down with a smug smirk on a scarred face. "F-Fah," she sputtered.

"Are those tears for me?" His foot pushed her back and then toed her wound, causing her to gasp in pain. "Aghh!" She cried out.

With a flamboyant roll of his eyes, the daiyokai Fan Tsenpo kneeled to regard her. "Your tears," he reached down a hand and wiped the wet track from her cheek, "intrigue me so."

#Chapter Twenty Four #Nocturne #Nocturne Fanfic #Sesskag #Sesshome #Sesshomaru #Kagome #Fanfic #Inuyasha #Sesshomaru x Kagome

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ohmygodtheywereparabatai · 4 years

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And I feel Zhao x HappinessInAnyForm in this Chili’s tonight

I borrowed the ship name @guiltyportfolio chose. It’s perfect!

(3.9k and many weeks late...) A young Zhao doped up on seratonin meets unapologetic Pianjeong fluff. But I rake it through the mud before it’s earned. A lot.

It took longer than he would like to admit in later years, nursing a strong, bitter liquid instead of scalding tea while revisiting memories with none the will to pocket them out of sight and mind... to realize he had sharpened a broken tool to the snapping point. That in his militant head, damaged things were only fixed by pressuring them to spring back into service, for some miracle of self-discovery to take hold after the umpteenth squat that burned through the soft muscle in the legs, the last haggard, gasping mile on unforgiving terrain. That such was the nation he served, one that made good youth into disposable markers, on maps with charred-out territories that had already been taken... the dead buried, the soldiers burying a part of themselves deeper in the low croon of drinking songs that stretched into twilight.

Then there was him: that impish boy of gawky height and thin wrists, scraps of techniques off the battle charts of famed commanders, designs for tanks and warships familiarized down to the bolts, oaths of loyalty to the Firelord and vibrant praises burned verbatim on the tongue... shelved away in a mental compendium. Eager adrenaline when he was first placed under Jeong Jeong’s charge. And underneath it, anger.

Anger at everything, the battle charts with weak points that had needlessly prolonged the fighting, the ships and tanks that were on the losing side and cost them precious resources, the Firelord himself for wronging him, anything at all for crossing him... Enraged at an invisible injustice whenever Jeong Jeong glimpsed the heart of Zhao: the fire below the soldier. The fire that ruled a soldier.

The only catch was that a heart existed. His master had failed him in that regard. Jeong Jeong couldn’t identify the source, for the life of him, of whatever bred the anger that tunneled into those bronzed eyes, into the thoughts lit behind them like sparks off a fuse. When the only notion he’d had to bend his mind around was glancing at the wrists Zhao kept hidden under tied sleeves and sturdy braces, ever since the earliest of his battles - a gruesome enemy on equal footing.

He showed him now, by candlelight in the commander’s tent, as the rest of the camp dozed or caroled in a discordant slur.

“I... he was...” Zhao’s tone had deflated from the similar, loose pitch of a tooling young man. He sounded sober now - much too sober.

A curse escaped on Jeong Jeong’s next breath. If breath escaped him at all. His pupil was by no means shy about crowing - he was the type to parade around the stump of a limb, butt into any conversation, ‘Want to hear - want to see?’, sit himself down, and embellish to the extreme. Yet the most glaring scars were ones most soldiers acknowledged, and none shared.

This was neither.

Faded circlets, seared into either wrist, often in place of a traditional ceremony, more often a last act of desperation. A bond of significance that ran deeper than flesh, worn proudly in spite of the decree it defied.

“... a close friend.” Jeong Jeong finished, amending carefully so as not to oust the criminal crouched in front of him.

Zhao sniggered, reclaiming his sleeves. He tipped the cup to his lips. “Yeah. A friend I kissed regularly.”

The commander made a tch sound, his worry spiking. The boy looked up to catch his gaze, then laughed brightly, imitating a suggestive charade to the act. Jeong Jeong was left to bear witness with thinned lips.

“Last words- he said... and get this,” Zhao shook himself with another fit, further from the hole the memory had burrowed - closer to the fiction he’d tried to entangle around it, like dressing a wolf in koala sheepskin, “He made me promise, ‘Win the war for me.’ It was a joke between us... If one of us knew we were first to go, we’d dare the other to do anything. Anything.”

“Except, it was gonna be some stupid shit. Like, kissing a girl.” Move on, make her a wife. “Like setting your hair on fire. I told him I’d set your hair on fire. Bastard left with... ‘Win the war for me.’” Zhao set down the drink, blinking hard.

Answers that drifted at arm’s length, all this time: the bundled, hot knot of grief the soldier hadn’t learned to swallow around. And how could he? He was bound to a lover’s final will.

The commander abruptly reached across, wrested him forward by a bruising grip. The empty cup clinked aside - Zhao nearly shouted in alarm, the mild upset in his stomach lurching in march with a lolling pulse. His arms looped firmly around him, merciless strength still grasping his head by the palm. His master probably wasn’t aware of it, or worse, it was as weak as he’d ever come off. Zhao sensed quaking; his own or his teacher’s, his eyes were heavy, and the line had blurred.

“Master Jeong Jeong...” He huffed in difficulty. Ribs tightening, “Sir...”

As soon as he was released, Zhao scooted back within his bounds, rubbing the dizzied, interrupted train of thought from his face. He was awake, wasn’t he? Last he remembered, his commander was shrouded in smoke and stood over decimated ruins, unmoving, planted like an idol to their vicious occupation. Were they the same men?

When he looked down, a pair of hands were facing him, knuckles down, fists curled. At least the look his superior gave him retained the sternness of command,

See.

Feeling strange and guiltless, moreover entrusted, he reached under the other’s arm - the rough cloth felt like something thatched, ash singed permanently into the cuffs. Zhao pushed back one sleeve, a wave of numbness crashing over him in its wake. He repeated with the left, finding the same, uneven band of skin that had poorly healed... though the marks left weren’t quite the same as a firebender’s, pinching a forefinger and thumb before a circle of light hissed to life. It looked manual in a different way, as if burned by a nonbender - a clever one, handier with the tools of a forge.

His throat had gone dry. It was harmless; Zhao didn’t need a voice to ask.

You...?

Jeong Jeong raised a name, and an offer. Finally bowing to his pupil’s unyielding persistence. It overwhelmed Zhao in the moment, a blind over the realization that it was at once an answer to the question. He leapt for the commander with a cry, a string of thank you’s and I won’t fail him - or you’s buried in the loose embrace, followed by a grunt of displeasure as the old master shrugged free. Discipline tended to scrape out such displays in the Fire Army - his pupil had talent for a lack, more so when drunk. An unseen smile only tugged his lip after Zhao had picked himself up, dusted off, and staggered outside with the first hum he’d heard of the boy in ages.

. . .

“Don’t fidget.”

Before he could dismiss the tic in his fingers, his master, or both - the door slid open.

His eyes bugged of their own accord. And they didn’t dare blink and miss an instant in front of him.

How the hell could he? The swordsman of the century welcomed the commander with open arms and decorum the rest of nobility could only emulate. As genteel in appearance as a time-honored, decorated sheath that hid the steel he was known to steer like a fifth element. Before even gathering the thoughts that were doomed to somersault as soon as he opened his mouth, Zhao glimpsed them lean in, and deepen their embrace. Quickly turning a cheek that flashed red and a heart that raced, doubled.

Then he was in front of Zhao - his bow was low and graceful for his height - he held out a hand, burned circlets visible just over the sleeve - his commander cleared his throat as if to remind him, you’re meant to bow and shake it.

Zhao damn nearly folded at the waist. His arm shot out. “Master... Master Piandao. I’ve heard all about you. This is, it’s- a tremendous honor.” His eyes were starstruck, carrying a faraway twinkle. “You wouldn’t believe- I asked to learn under you almost every day since I discovered you were a close contact of Master Jeong Jeong’s.”

“Oh, if we’ve heard as much as we have of each other, I think I can believe it.” Inevitably, his voice conjured the image of warm, fluffy milk bread. How cake made the young soldier feel, in human form. Im-fucking-possible. “Sit.” He nodded for the commander and his charge, smiling. “I’ll pour the tea.”

The hour was whiled away. There wasn’t a moment that denied years of familiarity between the two, from how often he tallied his master’s laugh, to every occasion their hands came together, rubbing absent circles or just to draw one’s attention - cement a warm and long look into the other’s face. Envy hardly occurred to a third-wheeling Zhao, which was an honest first. Soon after, he was kneeling in the shadows of the branches that rustled outside the terrace. Nape pricked with sweat, despite the calm he leveled on the master - likely Jeong Jeong’s senior by a few years. Trifling details and their such conclusions immersed Zhao’s senses, tensing a high-strung concentration as it was.

“You came all this way. I couldn’t possibly turn you down.” The warmth had, temporarily, been withheld, to a surreal effect. Zhao felt cornered, felt that each answer was colored in more defiance than what was allowed. “Did you think my manners in serving tea to my guests applied to training?”

His stomach vaulted. “No, sir.”

“Then why? You think you deserve to be here, is that it?”

In any case, answer as yourself seemed to be the worst possible advice from Master Jeong Jeong’s end - yet he’d said nothing else. Zhao had no clue whether his prying ears and eyes bored through a blind spot in the windows, or were pressed against the wall as he smothered another chuckle. None of the outcomes struck him as upside.

“I have a war to win.” He resisted sinking a tooth into his lip, any sign of recoil. “And if you’d like to keep the life that I couldn’t, you have a war to win, too. I know you’re happy with the commander, sir. But as long as there’s fighting...”

“Ah, I see.” More strangely, Master Piandao didn’t miss a beat. His slow pace traveled underneath the floor, inching closer. “So you dream of vengeance?”

That seemed to tick him. “They won’t be dreams when I leave this place.”

“You came here knowing you were a bender of remarkable strength and skill. But you wanted the skill to slip a blade between their ribs, to watch them die at a close distance. You wanted your revenge to be cold and personal.”

A tremble stole into him. And I shouldn’t?

“I...” He was transparent. There was no lie to spin.

“Don’t think I’m unimpressed.” Piandao mused, now directly over him. “These are all brave things to admit to fighting for. But what else? What wakes you up at night? What makes you vulnerable, soldier? What haunts your every step?”

Vulnerable? Haunted? “I... don’t...” Answer as himself? The old swordsman turned, seemingly resigned, when Zhao rushed to finish as the words took definite shape,

“I don’t want to die a nobody.” He ripped the weight off his chest, bared for all of half a minute. “I want to be more than - than what they made me. I want them to remember, that when they shipped me off to never come home, I returned... I made history. Not for them. For me.”

For him.

A pause. “Them?”

His frayed nerves broke the surface - more fear than rage, at least. “The... all of them. The nation. The Fire Nation!” Zhao cried, pressed his forehead to the floor, as low as possible. Pride gave, and still, he only half-believed he’d really said it. “... please.”

Anger reeled, flared in the small breath that lit the space between his lips and the ground.

A foot connected under his ribs, turned him over with only so much effort. Zhao started, facing the ceiling... and the tip of a sword beneath his chin.

“Your temper unbalances you. Good for fire, maybe, but not mastery of the blade. I’ve been told you lack a clear head, pupil Zhao.” Piandao arched a brow, his head tilted in doubt. “You’re bound to lose fingers.”

Jeong Jeong had to have been rolling over by now. The soldier twitched, wary of the cold pinch of metal. “I won’t - lose.”

He couldn’t again. Serving an invisible legacy was one thing, lives laid down by the thousands to reap a tomorrow they wouldn’t see; but the war he fought hadn’t been so lonely or beyond fathom. Zhao had seen a clear future when there was someone to share it with. The drone of marching in and out of sleepy towns and provinces flocked with fleeing commoners by day, turned to the darkness when they climbed into treetops and plotted which stars to follow to the edge of the earth. The sunrise wasn’t the same as when their arms tangled and lips pressed together, keeping out of sight as the flush left their cheeks while idling, talking. Their sun had never felt as pale and small as his did now.

Zhao was sick of loss. He’d made a promise.

The sword slid away. An arm reached out for his. Piandao’s mouth was upturned.

“I will train you.”

There was a thud outside the door, as if an elbow had slipped and a body crashed.

. . .

He was well aware his partner had tried, on many occasions, to regret all things but the pupil they taught together.

Even then, Piandao had been the foil to Jeong Jeong’s cynical heart, urging him to find the sunlight dappled between grey clouds - run a hand under the few rays of light, and avoid dwelling on memories that would embitter the rest. Admitting that he’d partly acquiesced to the boy that walked circles in his own grief to spite the commander’s expectations had earned quite the laugh. A source of rib ache only for as long as it took the edge off. Piandao had wanted the challenge that he couldn’t surmount.

He took quickly to a variety of weapons, but the gifted swordsman was soon faced with the same plight: discipline. An unorthodox series of lessons and several precise, deliberate blows to the ego later, Zhao’s head had cooled long enough to comprehend the soul of the art. After that threshold in his instruction, it was a test of how well the student embraced it.

“Shall we, commander?”

The afternoon was hot, but not unpleasant. They watched a solitary spar from the steps to the dueling grounds. Smart, surefooted, well accomplished - the root of his motivation had been inexhaustible, dangerously so. The rhythm of Jeong Jeong’s palm cracking a line of knuckles was more than telling of his answer.

Jumped from behind, and in front. Mid-form when a sword came down in a whistling arc, and another sailed straight for his neck.

Zhao nearly careened out of the way, dual swords meeting either steel with a resounding clash. He threw his head up in surprise, arms straining with the effort of bearing two men’s strength, a bemused twitch in his lip. “What are you doing?”

“Pass,” Jeong Jeong sounded enlivened - difficult to think he hadn’t been waiting for this, “and I’ll allow you to set my hair on fire.”

That cocked the edge of his mouth. Abruptly, the opposing swords left, striking the ground in the same spot. His teachers shared astonishing harmony, to the point where seeing it again and again hadn’t taken his awe. The metal points raked forwards in unison, a cloud of dust flung into Zhao’s sight. “Hey!”

“Fire does little to weather the elements.” He was forced to hear footsteps, place voices, a Piandao shifting to the right. “Air may carry it, but only until it’s overcome. Water extinguishes it immediately. Earth can stamp out its path.”

“This is dirty fighting!” Zhao bit down a cough in fear of missing crucial information, narrowly vacating the empty air where they sliced. Just parrying in the nick of time.

“So why then, does it triumph in today’s world?” He blinked out the last, burning traces. Their student veered on a heel and made quick distance, still tailed closely. His reply was a stammer, resetting his own armed grip and stance.

“The... the bender makes the element.”

“So he does. Fire is wielded as fear, and suddenly, it owns the others. It shapes history.” Piandao feinted, jolted upwards to overthrow him. The soldier jumped, catching the steel on his crossguard. Zhao’s fist shook. Jeong Jeong lingered menacingly behind.

“Think of this as the same. You may feel outmatched - but you’re not outsmarted. Not yet.”

And the resulting chaos was ordered into dance. Deception, directness, three minds of cunning that happened to cross blades. The fight wasn’t the focus as much as it was the boy’s dexterity, his footwork which leaped to and from the garden wall and moss-capped stones, the occasional puff of flame that his commander averted with a tch. Smoke and dust were tossed into lazy spirals. Their techniques were a language, and the match, poetry.

Zhao very nearly slipped into the mindset that compelled one to search for meaning outside of war.

Outsmart them? His arm swerved to meet with a clang. Piandao dove for his exposed side, one, two leather straps snapped like kite string. Zhao fumbled over his guard when Jeong Jeong hacked the others, turning too late as it slid free - the commander’s cut was less clean, grazing the skin under his shirt. Blood welled, and his mind raced. But they were extraordinary! People he looked up to since he’d first met them. Before he even met them!

Then there was him, stupid, emotional - without a chest guard - hair and brows flecked with sand.

“Focus, you oaf!” That wasn’t Piandao. “Are you trying to think? That has never been your strength!”

Credit to the nerve of him, Zhao started to laugh. He redoubled his attack, broadswords running into one silver blur. Jeong Jeong was barking something about humor belonging to children, Piandao tried to usher his lover’s infuriated spiel back into the moment, and Zhao’s grin only grew wider, whiter - seeing his first out. Discipline was more or less hung on the laundry line, offense oozing with the arrogance that caught even the upper hand of insurmountable odds by surprise. His entire waist twisted, a sword shot skywards before he kicked out at their feet, rolled under, and caught it unerringly by the handle. Zhao ripped the serrated tip upwards, backed with a sneer. Piandao was forced to halt - step back - glance down at the split front of his robes, navel to collar.

Jeong Jeong paused, grabbed at the other’s arm, staring, uncomprehending, at the sight. Before color could even occur to rise in his face,

“I’m sorry. Nothing’s hurt, right? This reminds me-” Zhao swallowed another bout of laughter. His head tilted, making direct eye contact, “The commander has, on certain nights, provided enlightening commentary in his sleep. My partner and I would overhear how earthbenders couldn’t hold a candle to the sword master’s expert physical condition. Namely,” he damned himself for a win, “how they could only dream of rock as firm as his abdomen. Well, my master certainly could.”

Jeong Jeong purpled - crimson’d, maybe, was the shade - lifting with an arm that had already turned to butter. Zhao lashed out, knocking the other blade loose with learned technique. A square kick sucked the air from the firebender’s lungs, broke his balance, sent him crashing on top of the nonbender. Piandao hit the ground with an oof. Taking in the cool shadow that shielded him and his darling, he craned his neck as the soldier beamed down at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll let your hair be.”

Piandao was stalled, a little agape. Then he gave into beating the ground with a fist, howling.

“Ongi!” He clutched at his stomach with a shout. The commander shot to his feet, rose a finger to begin a rapid rebuttal. “I had no idea!”

The boy’s shoulder was taken, steered around to face his instructor. Mostly to prevent Jeong Jeong dislocating the one closer to his reach. Piandao ruffled a dusting of grass, twigs, and sand out of his hair. “You certainly live up to your master’s word. Every one.”

He bowed. His - their - student hurried to mirror the motion, trembling with excitement. As sharp as the first day he’d knelt, and they began.

Back then, the name Zhao held promise. It was their asinine hope that they guided a potential successor to the White Lotus onto the road few traveled.

Few.

. . .

They toasted in private. Zhao was set to the task of keeping the forge, accompanied only by firelight, scorching coal, the sweat and grit of the final leg of his teachings. It was justice, at least.

The commander had been teased until he shut up his other by seizing him around the neck, jerking him down, and sealing the gap. Separated for air, scented breath stirred the chin opposite, eyes meeting across a sea of thoughts. Hopes, doubts, fears - they’d bared much of their souls during their years together, entangled wisdom, sought comfort where it was infinite.

“You didn’t tell him of your plans, did you?”

Jeong Jeong sighed. “I received the promotion. The madness ends before it consumes me as admiral.”

“Be patient. These things require the perfect opportunity. Rarely anyone who deserts so far into their career live.” Piandao sipped carefully, set the glass back down. “Of course, I have complete faith that you will be the first. A hope for any dying cries of fealty in the Fire Army.”

“If only that were the kind of death I’d witnessed.” His voice was low, morose. A heavy palm pressed on his shoulder, thumb rubbing circles.

“Seems to me that you neglect to share a lot with other people. I’ll take a wild stab and guess that the kid still thinks I’m a hero hailed far and wide.” Jeong Jeong made some sullen remark about a wild stab being far from his skill. Piandao chuckled. “At the rate I’m losing face, a battalion is bound to come to my doorstep to collect me.”

“You’ll defeat them all,” was his forecast. “And perhaps, stand a chance of passing into a legend like mine.”

Their hands brushed, scratching the twin scars adorning either wrist. “Oh, we’ll see.”

The doors burst. A servant gestured frantically, piecing together enough information for a gist. Stables, raided - forge, cold - gates, open.

They flew on foot, as if there were a point to the mad dash. Jeong Jeong arrived first, sifting through the soot, kicking aside the abandoned bellows and a shovel dug into the earth. Gone.

“Where-” Piandao’s gaze held his, moonlit in white, unreadable. “Will he be safe?”

Glazed, ghostly. Jeong Jeong’s eyes fell closed. “There has been an error in our judgement.”

“He needs to win the war... not end it.”

#pianjeong adopts a son: a short story #zhao fanboying over every white lotus member without even realizing is the fattest of moods #i blame neffy’s talent for instilling the need to write zhao x seratonin #i SWEAR i ship him with only four people and two of them are ocs #your local clown writes!#YES THIS IS based on those two seconds in the waterbending master when zhao does a fancy twirl with zuko’s broadswords

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

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tapestry 👑 XX

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The reader comes to terms with her circumstance.

Note: Alright, so I close then open so me getting another chapter up at the same time tomorrow (if at all) is unlikely. But I’ll do my best to have one ready for Saturday. Yeah. We’re almost done with this retail BS but not yet. Anyways, here ya go. (I still don’t know about the cummies or how many chapters we’re looking at, sorry). Hope you like it :)

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

masterlist

You were adrift on dark waves; swaying in the current. Helpless and weak. Your head pounded and your chest felt heavy. Slowly you opened your eyes, your lashes fluttered as the swaying continued.

Your vision cleared as you realized you were being carried. You lifted your head and looked up at the dark beard and the blue eyes set above it. Lord Barnes’ grasp was strong and didn't falter under the weight of your body or even your layered skirts.

He sensed the movement and looked down at you. He raised a brow and turned his attention forward. A grin tugged at his lips.

"You couldn't have stirred five minutes ago?" He japed.

"My lady," Marion stood on the other side of Lord Barnes,your guard just behind them. "You're… you're… I was so worried. We all were. The king, he was so distraught."

"What happened?" You spoke hoarsely. You felt oddly calm as Barnes cradled you. "My lord, I think you might put me down now."

"I should think," He stopped sharply in the corridor. You recognized the painting that hung beside you. "And what happened is you did faint at quite the most precipitous time."

He let your feet down to the floor and steadied you. He kept a hold of your elbow. You patted the back of his hand gently.

"I think I can manage." You assured him and he slowly rescinded his hand. You were light-headed but not incapacitated. You touched your forehead at the pang that stabbed your temple. "Oh…"

"My lady?" Marion looked to you anxiously.

"It is only my head. I--I-- Eleanor…"

"There is nothing you could've done to save her," Barnes said. "But we should not discuss such things here."

"We should not discuss them at all, I suppose." Marion braced your arm as you stood straight.

"We should get you to your room, lady," Marion said.

"Yes, the king did send me to see you there," Barnes added. "Though I've never escorted anyone in such a manner."

"Very well," You let Marion tug you along. "Lord Barnes, you might go and assure the king that I am well."

"I will see you along first," He caught your other arm as you stumbled. "Though I might not say you are entirely well."

You sighed but didn’t argue as they led you down the corridor. Another corner and you were at your chamber doors. The guard opened them for you to enter and stood just inside as he watched Barnes and Marion sit you in one of the cushioned chairs. He was one of two who kept vigil at your side. He was the same who had accompanied you on your midnight stroll. Dolan, you believed his name was.

“I shall report that you’ve awoken and he will no doubt send the physician.” Barnes stood with a hand on his belt. “You been sleeping?”

“Not well,” You answered glumly.

“I figured as much.” He nodded wryly. “Why fret so much over what you cannot control?”

“Should I not fret at the fate of another? Of one whom I’ve known for more than two years? For one who, despite her machinations, did have but desperate intentions?” You mourned. “Why, Lord Barnes, you may have the stomach to see another’s death upon your lap but I have but the spine and the gut of a lady.”

He squinted at you and glanced around at the others in the room. “I’ll send for Marge too. She’ll see that you don’t go running around causing any more trouble.”

“Are you my keeper now, my lord?” You challenged as you drew yourself up in the chair. The effort made your head spin.

“I am of the few allies you have,” He countered. “Certainly your frailty has won the sympathy of the court but we’ve witnessed how fickle their favour can be.”

You rubbed your cheek as you leaned on the arm of the chair. You exhaled and shrugged. “Go report to your king. Assure him that I am a maiden most weakened.” You raised your chin to look him in the eye. “I daren’t allow him to think I have an ounce of strength should he seek fault in it.”

“Have you not thought on our previous conversation?” He asked.

“I’ve thought of barely anything else, my lord. How could I given the spectacular we’ve just seen?” You bemoaned. “I’ve thought well and truly. I should appease the king insomuch as I can, though I fear no terms should secure my safety.”

“You are shrewd,” He remarked as he began to walk away. “See that you use that head to your advantage in this match. Do not linger on your next move, but think of that three turns ahead.”

He bowed his head and turned away from you. He nodded to Dolan and Marion.

“You should expect the physician, and perhaps the man who does send him forth.” He called over his shoulder as he pulled the door open. “Rest while you can.”

The door closed behind him sharply and Marion approached you cautiously. You waved her to the other chair and looked to Dolan. He showed little emotion but stared back at you.

“Will you keep watch, sir?” You asked. “You are ever so diligent.”

“I will, my lady,” He clutched his pommel. “Shall I turn away Lord Barnes should he return?”

“Why should you do that?” You wondered.

“Pardon my impertinence, my lady, but he does seem overly involved and he does rile you so.”

“That is his manner,” You dismissed. “But I thank you for your concern, sir.”

👑

Marge arrived shortly thereafter as Marion departed. The physician was next and merely recommended wine and rest. He left you and you remained with only your lady servant. You were restless and yet entirely exhausted. You couldn’t figure out how to occupy yourself.

Your tedium didn’t last as a knock came at your doors. Firm and decisive. The butt of your guard’s sword, no doubt. Marge went to welcome your visitor and revealed the king on the other side. His own guard was at his side and Hugh followed him; ever loyal, ever silent.

“Your highness,” You stood and curtsied as he entered. His eyes sparkled as they landed on you. The door closed behind him as Marge shied away along the wall.

“My lady, I did come to look in on you.” He approached and stopped only a foot from you; so sharply as if he kept himself from seizing you entirely. “The physician said you were recovered.”

“I was merely overcome, that is all, your highness.” You said. “The trial did last so long and all those people. I did find myself quite taxed by it all.”

“And no one could blame you, my lady,” He preened. “I was most worried for you.”

“I do appreciate your concern,” You returned. “It was only a lapse. A moment of weakness on my part.”

“Oh, my lady, you are brave,” He cooed as he tentatively stepped closer, “You should sit. I’d hate for you to strain yourself further.”

“Your highness, you are kind,” You sat, if only to keep your distance. You forced a smile upon your face as he pulled the other chair close and lowered himself upon the cushion.

“Oh, but I know we’ve been kept apart by this terrible ordeal,” He leaned on the arm, his gaze unyielding as he watched you. “I did come as much to reaffirm my love for you. To assure you that my heart does remain steadfast.”

You blinked and fought to keep your lips from twisting. You thought of the queen before the court; the verdict handed down by righteous and unfeeling cardinals.

“As does mine,” You returned.

Your voice was so thin, so soft, you thought perhaps he did not hear you. That perhaps if he did, he would sniff out the lie.

“It… does?” He squeezed the arm of the chair as he leaned closer. “Truly? You love me?”

You lowered your lashes and nodded. You hoped the gesture seemed shy and you did not show the fear that trapped your voice in your throat. He reached over and touched your hand. You almost flinched but instead lifted your eyes to his. Your cheeks hurt from the farce that stretched your lips.

“Your majesty, I do feel quite ashamed to admit it this day with all that has transpired. Oh, it does feel wrong indeed.” Your heart beat so loudly in your ears, you swore he heard it too.

“But how can it be? The court declared my marriage null. It cast down a vile woman who should pretend upon the throne and did conspire to keep us apart, even through our deaths,” His grip grew tighter as he spoke. “There is no need for us to hide it any longer.”

“Would it not be proper, at least, to withhold from any outward displays until… until the sentence is served?” You trembled against your will but still you smiled.

“Of course we will not make any such announcement until it has truly ended but… well, I did speak to your father and we shall meet on the morrow. We must hurry, you understand, before the cardinals do depart.” He explained as he sat back, your hand still in his as he rubbed his thumb along it. “I would have our betrothal sealed by the See itself.”

“I… see,” You breathed. “The time does pass quite swiftly, does it not?”

“All the better,” He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it. “For I cannot wait to call you my wife.” He turned your hand over and kissed your palm, too. “My queen.”

You gulped and nodded. You wanted to wrench your hand away but you let him hold it, let him caress it with his lips.

“All the better.” You agreed as your cheek twitched. “My king, I do apologize, I have grown most weary.”

He stared at you a long moment and then bowed his head. He squeezed your hand one last time before he stood. Despite his disappointment, he remained buoyant. He seemed enlivened by the verdict. A man freed in his mind. Within reach of the prize he’d set his eye on. You felt like the elk in the forest, the king’s crossbow aimed at your heart.

“I shall allow you your respite,” He said as he squared his shoulders. “These coming weeks should be rather momentous.”

“So they should be,” You made to rise and he put his hand up to stop you.

“My lady, please, you must gather yourself,” He chided gently. “I wish you a good night… I am most impatient for what dawn should bring.”

“As am I, my king.” You mimicked his enthusiasm as best you could. You felt like a bird chirping for a cracker.

“My king,” He smirked, “I like that.” He bowed his head again. “My lady.”

He turned and barely seemed to notice Marge as she opened the door or Hugh as he scurried to catch up. You watched him go; his step as if marching off on some valiant mission. For him, the battle was over; he was the victor and the spoils were within his grasp.

👑

The sky was grey and a frigid rain fell over the capital. It was as if the sun mourned as you did. It was three days since the trial. The day Eleanor would meet her death. You still found it difficult to sleep and with almost daily visits from the king, your waking hours were just as restless.

You woke at dawn and paced until the sky lightened. You stopped several times to look out the window. From there you could see the edge of the Fort to the rear of the castle. She was to be executed on the green; the square framed by the walls of the prison itself. Your father was too attend along with the rest of the council; the cardinals were to see their sentence carried through before their departure; but the king would be in his chambers, feigning grief as the woman he condemned met her fate.

Your grief was all too real. You didn't eat and as noon loomed closer, you found it even more difficult to do anything but think of the Fort and Eleanor. What was she doing then? How did one prepare for their death? How did they muster the courage to meet it directly without quaking? You did not know for you knew you could never be so brave.

And then you could hide no more. You went to the door and Marge winced at your sudden movement. You pulled the door open yourself and found yourself blocked by the arm of the guard without. Dolan stared back at you sternly.

"My lady, where are you going?" He asked and stayed as he was.

"To say goodbye," You looked over your shoulder, "Marge, fetch me a cloak and one for yourself. I care not which."

" My lady, I cannot let you--"

"I will go. I must and I shall climb from my own window if you try to prevent me. And should I have to jump, I will." You insisted. "For if I remain, I could not live with myself."

"My lady," Dolan said with exasperation.

"Who will know it? The king will not come for it should look improper to visit me on the day of the former queen's execution and who else should think to stumble upon my chamber?"

He stared at you and frowned. The lines along his cheeks deepened and he sighed. "You may go only if I do."

"As you must," You accepted and turned as Marge offered you a cloak. "Let us be off."

Dolan stepped aside reluctantly and followed behind with Marge as you rushed to the stairs. You grew more frantic with each step and were sure you would be too late. Too late for what? Well, it wasn't as if you could save her now.

"My lady," Dolan said as his mail clinked. "We may not reach the Fort in time."

"It would be worse not to try," You said as you reached the bottom of the winding stairs. "Though I might say otherwise when it is done with."

Outside, your slippers were soaked through with the residue of late winter snows. You lifted your skirts but the hems were soon wet as well. Your small party approached the Fort, only to be stopped by two guards at the gate.

"What is your business here?" The first one asked. He eyed Dolan's golden armor which set his own black mail in drabness.

"The only business there is this day," Dolan returned. "Surely, you wouldn't think to turn away a royal guard."

"Surely wouldn't," The second guard said dryly. "Only councilmen and holy men on the green. You'll not make it much further than here."

"So be it," You said and the guards unbarred the gate.

When you stepped within, you stopped before the front door of the immense prison and looked to Dolan. "Why, I don't even know where we are going, sir."

"We won't be able to go out on the green, lady. The guard was right but there is a vantage point just above." He pointed to the Fort vaguely. "I'm afraid we won't get much further than that."

"Then it'll have to do," You waved him forward and he marched ahead to the front doors of the prison.

The guards waved him in and didn't give you or Marge a second glance. Likely they had seen quite a few bodies pass through that day. Lords and cardinals alike.

Within, Dolan led you to the east staircase and past the second floor. Upon the third, he opened a studded door and waited for you to proceed. He followed closely as you walked along the walkway that looked down over the green through grated windows.

"Here, my lady," He stopped and pointed through the metal bars. "It is not ideal but the best advantage we shall gain."

You nodded and looked around. Your eyes prickled and you felt a sense of breathlessness.

"What troubles you, my lady?" Marge asked.

"Just… to think that Eleanor has spent her last days in a place such as this," You touched your stomach and gasped. "Oh, I should weep at that alone."

"She would've been housed in the royal tower. There is a set of chambers there meant for prisoners of repute." Dolan offered. "She would still have a servant or two with her as well."

"You know much of the fort, sir." You looked to him.

"I did tend the yard here as a youth, before I was accepted to the king's service. I would train with the stable hands and a lord did see me fighting with a broomstick. He replaced it with steel and trained me proper."

"Why, I'd never have thought so," You said. "You wouldn't seem a groundskeeper to me."

"It's the armour. It distracts from my gardener's hands." He quipped.

A single bell rang. You jumped at the loud clang of metal as it filled the fort. Your eyes rounded and you swallowed. You turned and neared the windows to look down on the green.

A stage had been built on the frozen grass. A dozen men in black coats stood before it; the lords of the council in their mock mourning. The three cardinals stood out in their white cloaks and several guards stood across the stage with the executioner and along the yard.

Another man stood further back, his dark hair sleek and his hands clasped behind his back. Prince Loki did not show an ounce of concern as he awaited the day’s event. He merely stood and watched the empty stage.

The bell tolled twelve times before it ceased. It echoed for a time as a deep voice called. You didn't understand the words as they were muffled by the glass and metal. The men turned to look at the stage and the man with the sword turned his weapon so that it caught the meagre sliver of the overcast sun.

A door opened at the far corner of the fort and a guard in black emerged. Another came after him and then Eleanor herself. Two more guards followed as she walked across the green towards the stage.

She was clothed in deep purple; the colour of royalty; of a queen. A white cloak billowed from her shoulders. A white cap concealed her hair, like that worm by servants, though upon her it seemed a crown.

You forced yourself to breath as your chest burned. You brought your hands up to the grated window as you leaned against it to watch. She held her head high and walked as she would to her throne. You were enraptured by her; by her tragedy.

"My lady, you needn't watch," Dolan said quietly.

"I must," You rasped. "So that I may learn from it. Perhaps even avoid the same."

Eleanor climbed the steps one at time. She did not dally, merely kept her even pace. The lords didn't bow though she did not acknowledge them as she greeted her executioner with a nod of her head. She spoke to him briefly before she turned to her sparse audience.

She looked at each one of them and spoke again. You couldn't hear her from your vantage and you pressed your nose to the window. You quivered as she turned to the executioner once more with a final short remark.

She stood, head high, shoulders back, and waited. A guard stepped forward as she undid her cloak and helped remove it. She lowered herself to her knees and still did not waver. The executioner gripped his flat-tipped sword as he watched her.

She looked up to the sky. A hollow silence overtook the fort and you gasped as she spotted you upon the walkway. At least, she looked towards you and it felt like she recognized the small figure in the window.

Silver whistled through the air as the executioner drew back. His blade descended in a perfect arc and did not falter as it met flesh and bone. It took no more than a single swing to dispatch the queen.

You were stunned as her head toppled to the stage and rolled off the edge. Her body was stiff and remained straight for a few seconds before it fell forward too. Your lips parted in a silent scream.

Your tears flowed as freely as the queen's blood. You felt a nudge at your shoulder and a tug on your elbow. You didn't move; couldn't. She was dead. Gone. And you remained.

For now.

#tapestry #Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #series #fic #au #dark!fic #dark fic #mcu #marvel #medieval au #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes

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wickedjaime · 5 years

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Valentines Rarepair Week | Day 1 | Favorite Quotes | Arthur Dayne x Jaime Lannister

“Blood is the seal of our devotion.”

It had been years since his last vigil. And I was younger then, a boy of fifteen years. He had worn no armor then, only a plain white tunic. The sept where he'd spent the night was not a third as large as any of the Great Sept's seven transepts. Jaime had laid his sword across the Warrior's knees, piled his armor at his feet, and knelt upon the rough stone floor before the altar. When dawn came his knees were raw and bloody. "All knights must bleed, Jaime," Ser Arthur Dayne had said, when he saw. "Blood is the seal of our devotion." With Dawn he tapped him on the shoulder; the pale blade was so sharp that even that light touch cut through Jaime's tunic, so he bled anew. He never felt it. A boy knelt; a knight rose. The Young Lion, not the Kingslayer. —AFFC, Jaime I

The crimson bloomed on white and flesh—welled, wept, but Jaime felt nothing, only the pulsing of his heart, the sting of his bitten tongue, trapped in his teeth to keep himself from beaming.

Only felt lavender eyes, watching him.

“Dawn’s kiss is never kind,” Ser Arthur said. His voice was unlike any Jaime had ever heard—velvet cradling steel, deep yet light, the strongest gentleness.

Jaime followed Arthur’s gaze, watched the red tears stream down his shoulder, and chuckled. “As I learned firsthand. Not the gentlest of women, I see.”

The softest twitch played at Arthur’s lips, and he let out a breathy little chuckle, as he always did when Jaime said his jests. Quiet in everything, even his amusement. Even quieter, now, as he watched the wound Dawn gifted Jaime, in silence.

Then, “Sit,” he commanded.

Jaime did as he was bid, and sat on the bed. Arthur left the room, only to return with full hands. When Jaime saw the bandages and bucket of water, he was about to thank Arthur for fetching them for him, until the Dornishman sat at Jaime’s bedside and began wetting the cloth himself.

“My thanks, ser,” Jaime said, the thought of Arthur cleaning him sending spikes through his veins for some reason, “but I could do that myself.”

“You could,” Arthur allowed. “I saw you patch up our comrades, after our victory against the Brotherhood. You did quite well.”

Jaime was rendered silent by the compliment, as he always was when Arthur blessed him with one. He bit his tongue again, to stop himself from grinning like an idiot, but a little smile still fought its way through, anyway.

“It’s imperative for knights to maintain kinships by aiding one another with their wounds,” Arthur told him.

“Especially when said wound was given by a fellow knight?” Jaime offered, smirking.

Arthur shook his head and sighed quietly at Jaime’s nonsense, in only the way he could. He dipped his cloth in water, wrung it out. “Your tunic,” he said.

Oh. Yes. Jaime lifted his tunic over his head, exposing the wound in full. Arthur leaned over Jaime’s shoulder, inspected his wound. In the firelight, his dusky Dornish skin was shining copper, burning, and his deepset eyes glowed violet. His silken hair was straight as a raven’s wing, and blacker, too, framed over his serious, handsome face. They had never been so close. So close, Jaime could see that Arthur’s eyelashes were quite long, fluttering like little butterflies, and there was a small, closing hole for a piercing on his long nose, and the top of his full, bow-shaped lips were scarred with the tiniest little slash, and the flickering golden light danced shadows over the taut muscles in his neck, and his breath was moist on Jaime’s skin, clouding, and warm, and smelling of tea.

Hotness flooded Jaime’s cheeks. The hearth is too high, he told himself, but he looked away, all the same.

Wet coolness took him from his thoughts.

Arthur.

Washing his wound with the softest cloth.

Washing him, and the sudden fire inside Jaime was somehow a slow bloom and a bursting storm all at once.

Jaime bit the inside of his cheek, held his breath. The cloth was the faintest graze, and the water’s kisses were almost as good as Dawn’s. Jaime looked away, burned his gaze into the desk beside him, away from Arthur and his cloth. Out of sight, he could easily fool himself into thinking a nursemaid was tending to him, with the way Arthur was treating him. So soft, that touch. Such gentleness from strong, quick hands that could kill anyone and anything in half a breath. Like flowers, now, not strength made flesh. Gentleness, all done for him, as if Jaime were a frightened, wounded babe—Jaime, a boy, an invalid, not the Young Lion, not a knight created by the Sword of the Morning. Within Jaime there was rage at the insult, the coddling, but it was mere breaths in the maelstrom of other things—his thrashing heart, his roiling stomach, the sweat at his brow.

And that fire. Jaime knew it. It burned within him at Cersei’s gaze, Cersei’s knowing smirks, Cersei’s kisses, and Jaime didn’t understand, why was he—

He is my hero, Jaime told himself. My hero, the greatest knight in history, chose me, has faith in me. I am overwhelmed. Overwhelmed. Yes, that was it. Overwhelmed in a different manner than Cersei conjured in him, but overwhelmed, nonetheless.

A towel patted him, drying his skin, but that meant it was over. A protest nearly fled Jaime’s lips before he bit it back, but before he could even question that bit of insanity, Arthur saved him. “Just a few bandages,” he murmured.

Jaime watched. Arthur reached for Jaime’s arm, bronze skin blending beautifully with Jaime’s gold, and Arthur held him as gently as wind swaying through leaves, dew on a rose, moonlight on water, and unbidden, tears sprung in Jaime Lannister’s eyes. The confusion and fury burned them away as quickly as they came. I am overwhelmed, he told himself, again and again. I am overwhelmed.

And inane. And mad.

The last wrap of the bandage was a caress, a final farewell to Jaime’s foolishness. Jaime shuddered, and he hoped Arthur didn’t notice.

Arthur pulled away, and Jaime had never felt so cold. “It will scar,” he told him.

“I know,” Jaime croaked. He’d felt it the moment Dawn entered him in that soft slice, gentle, yet unyielding. Arthur’s knighting was forever marked on Jaime’s flesh, and that was not so bad of a thing. It was proof it was not a dream. Proof that Arthur meant it. Proof that he was worthy.

Arthur raised a questioning brow at his words, and gods, his eyes were striking. As purple as a Targaryen’s but more, somehow. Those eyes saw everything, and they were so honest and soft and like lavender breaths from the heavens and Jaime was overwhelmed. He hadn’t slept in eons, had waited on his knees until dawn for Arthur to return to him. He was sleepless, that was it. He was sleepless.

Jaime shrugged. His shoulder and arm still prickled from water and bandages and... his fingers shook, and he resisted the urge to grab at what Arthur had done, ruin it. “It is as you said, is it not, ser?” he asked. “Blood is the seal. Of course it will scar.”

Arthur gave him the smallest, fondest smile, and that fire in Jaime did not die, but cooled, and burned low, and went to his cheeks and ears. Bloody hero-worshipping fool.

“Indeed,” Arthur said. He stood from his chair. “You stood vigil all night. You deserve a rest.” He made his way to the door, turned, bowed. “Ser Jaime.”

Arthur had said the title before, just mere breaths ago, said it, told Jaime to rise, but somehow, now, it summoned the deepest blooming in Jaime’s chest. He didn’t even try to stop himself from smiling. “Ser Arthur.”

The door closed with the tiniest click, and alone, in the sept chamber, with no touch or overwhelm to cloud his thoughts, Jaime decided that his wound could not become a scar fast enough.

#rareasoiaf #jaime lannister #arthur dayne #arthur x jaime #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #wicked's writing #valentines rarepair week

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grither55 · 4 years

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The Princess and the Peasant - (An Azula Epic) - Chapter 15 - Cherries and Foot Rubs

Elle stood in her new chamber that was situated just a short distance from her old one.

It was bigger, and that was not all.

Her simple cot was gone and in its place was a very lovely designer bed!

Her emotional eyes flickered about while turning to her new desk complete with a comfortable chair.

She now had a closet, which she was opening at this very moment with a look of astonishment in her amber eyes.

It was completely lined with only the finest of robes and countless blouses, and lovely dresses!

A lounge chair even sat in the corner of her room with her shopping bags and backpack resting neatly on the floor beside it.

And finally, there was even an artwork station.

Complete with a painting stand and a wide assortment of arts and crafts.

And resting upon the art stand was a lone sheet of paper with the princess's royal seal.

And at the bottom of the page the princess had even signed her name in elegant Chinese print.

Princess Azula.

A single tear of joy now streamed down her cheek as she stood gazing down at the royal woman's signature.

It was clear that her princess now knew about her hobby painting her royal image.

But she didn't care.

Because she was Azula-sama's girl now.

"She…likes me…Azula-sama…truly likes me." The blonde-haired girl murmured before falling onto her new bed with an overjoyed smile.

She has never been this happy!

Never, not even close.

Many hours later.

Elle walked with a large bowl of cherries in hand now wearing fine red robes along with her golden bow around her neckline.

She strode before coming to a stop before her princess's personal royal spa.

She timidly rapped on the door before she heard the woman's loud, yet silken voice as she called out to her.

"Come in Elle." Azula called out from where she sat in a large throne with her palms folded in her lap.

Her controlling eyes watched as the girl opened the spa door all the while glancing at her clock in approval.

Twenty minutes early.

"Such a punctual girl. Oh, don't be so timid. It's not like I am going to eat you." The princess taunted with her hair hanging freely behind her as she watched the red-faced teenager meekly step in.

The small blonde peered at the woman seated in her throne wearing elegant red robes with a golden trim, with a red sash wrapped around her lovely waistline.

And her dark hair flowing freely with a glistening gleam making it clear just how well cared for the princess's hair truly was.

"Y-yes Azula-sama. As you say…always as Her Highness orders." Elle answered bashfully while padding closer with Azula all the while observing her sighing.

"So…how do you like your new arrangements?" Azula pondered while glancing down at Elle with pleased eyes when the girl dropped into a bow before her bare feet.

The bowl of cherries was placed directly before her hand while she reached down with a smile before popping one in her mouth.

'This girl is just the best pet.' The princess thought while smiling down at her adorable handmaid when the girl leaned down to hug her knee.

"I-it is more than I deserve. T-thank you Azula-sama. I-I appreciate everything you do for me. I-I've never been this happy. Not o-once in my life." The blonde-haired girl stammered in a moved voice with the older woman staring down at her taken aback by her sudden show of emotion.

Azula swallowed the cherry with her lips pursed into a thin line before planting her palm in Elle's soft blonde hair.

She felt the girl fall face first into her thighs while sighing once more as she began to pet her in a rare show of compassion.

All the while listening to little whines from below.

"You've been abused a great deal. Haven't you servant?" The princess questioned in a stern voice while patting her handmaid's head just as she gazed down at her with dominant eyes.

"Y-yes princess. I-I have." Elle cried softly while Azula glanced down at her scowling with disapproval in her cold eyes.

"I am not going to abuse you. That time of your life is over now. You belong to me…now." Azula spoke while peering down at her pet with callous golden eyes all the while patting the sniffling girl's head.

"I-I belong to Master Azula now." The blonde-haired girl agreed while peering up at the woman's stony countenance with emotive little eyes.

"That you do…pet. There, there." The princess cooed while consuming another cherry with a sigh as she ran her fingers through her submissive girl's hair.

"Master Azula is home." Elle stated with a rising smile while peering up at the woman when her long fingers wiped her eyes.

"I am. Now no more tears. Be a good girl for me." Azula purred while staring down at her servant just as she reached into her bowl before lowering a cherry over Elle's blushing face.

"I-I am Princess Azula's good girl." The blonde-haired girl cheered with a sunny smile just as she opened her mouth to accept her treat.

Then she blushed an even deeper shade of red when the woman's palm pushed her face into her thigh patting her head all the while.

"You're a good pet. I'll take care of you." The princess sighed while gazing down at her sensitive pet with a stern stare that hid her fondness for the small girl.

"Arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama." Elle spoke cheerily while laughing happily as she began to nuzzle Azula's thigh in a submissive manner.

"Hm. You are a sensitive little dear. But I feel as if we'll make a good fit for each other. You'd be lost without my strength." Azula commented while swallowing another cherry with a content sigh.

"That's so. I need your guidance master." The blonde-haired girl chimed while propping her head up on a shapely thigh with her eyes peering up at the towering woman's strict face.

"Oh, very well. I shall guide you Elle. Go fill my wash bowl, would you? Place it down when you are done and then kneel right here." The princess commanded while pointing at her feet with her domineering eyes peering down at the blushing handmaid's rapidly nodding face.

"Yes Azula-sama. I will do so right away!" Elle exclaimed as she arose before giving the seated woman a bow at the waist.

Azula glanced back at Elle with a smile of fondness on her red lips just as she watched the small girl scamper over to fulfill her order.

"You are an exceedingly well-mannered girl. The other servants around here could stand to learn a thing or to from you. Some of them don't even know how to bow properly." The princess complained while chewing on another cherry as she observed her favorite servant filling the wash bowl.

"It is kind of you to say so Azula-sama! But as you saw at the club last night a lot of people don't like me. Many people seem to think me mentally stunted because I smile so often. But that's alright! But I have you and my oneesans now." The blonde-haired girl chirped with her back to her frowning master's displeased visage.

It angered Azula greatly knowing that her future betrothed was so widely mocked.

And it irked her just as much that Elle was okay with such treatment.

"I will not permit whispering of my girl. In the palace…or otherwise. If I hear of any such talk…I will remedy it." Azula responded with her lips pursed in a tight scowl while Elle's face heated up as she knelt with water spilling into the bowl.

"A-Azula-sama's… g-girl." Elle stuttered out adorably with Azula peering over at her with her lovely lips curving upward.

Just a bit.

"Mhm. That's right. And don't you dare forget it girl." The princess spoke in a domineering voice while swallowing another cherry.

"H-how could I…Your highness?" The blonde-haired girl murmured with a genuine smile while staring into the flowing water.

"You truly delight in being mine…" Azula trailed off in a thoughtful tone while gazing at her pet with a stern golden gaze.

"I-it is so Azula-sama. You are…the princess I have always dreamed off. My princess right…" Elle announced sweetly with her words incurring a curious stare from the regal woman.

"Princess right? I like the sound of that." The princess commented in a supremely haughty voice while gulping down yet another cherry.

"D-does Her Highness know that I have painted her visage?" The blonde-haired girl requested shyly while swallowing nervously under the woman's prying gaze.

"I do." Azula answered with a sigh while feeling a sliver of remorse for accidently glimpsing at the tribute before it was completed.

"Oh. W-when did you see my art book?" Elle pondered with her heart racing rapidly as she stared down into the wash bowl.

"On your first morning here. I went to see if you were awake…I had planned to ask if you wanted to walk with me. I found you snoring…sprawled out like a little tiger monkey with your precious book on top of you…" The princess responded while popping another cherry in her mouth before consuming it with a smile.

"D-did Her Highness approve of her likeness?" The blonde-haired girl stammered while turning off the water when she heard a regal snort behind her.

"Is that a genuine question? Silly girl. Your skill is impeccable. Your work is fit to be on the walls of the palace." Azula declared with her callous eyes lingering on the back of her handmaid's head.

"R-really Azula-sama? I-it was that good?" Elle asked while turning with an adorably sunny smile on her young face.

"It was. When I become Fire Lord, I demand that you paint many works in my likeness. I will hang each one on the walls of my throne room." The princess explained with an unyielding stare of dominance that had her pet blushing wildly.

"Y-you honor me Azula-sama. But if that is your desire...then it will be done." The blonde-haired girl assured while smiling over her shoulder at the authoritative woman.

"Good. I am glad that you see things my way. Now come here servant." Azula commanded while snapping her fingers loudly with a spoiled demeanor about her.

"Yes princess. At once." Elle agreed meekly while she began to carry the bowl over all the while listening to the loud snapping of the woman's fingers.

"Bow. Right there!" The princess barked in a tone of absolute dominance while staring down at her quivering pet with smug golden eyes.

"Y-yes master. I will always bow before you and you alone." The blonde-haired girl squeaked while setting the bowl down before dropping down into a low bow on all fours.

She blushed with a warmth spreading across her cheeks when she found herself gazing face to face with the princess's bare feet.

The princess began to wiggle her toes while she observed just a light sheen of sweat on the woman's immaculate feet.

"Good pet." Azula purred in a silken voice while raising her foot in the air as she patted the flushing girl's head with her right foot.

Elle swallowed with her heart racing when the woman lightly stepped on her head in a dominant yet gentle manner.

"O-oh Master Azula." Elle stuttered while Azula peered down at her chewing on another cherry.

"Hm. You like that?" The princess cooed while pressing her bare toes into her submissive girl's blonde hair.

"Y-yes I-I do. I-I like it when you t-tell me what to do." The blonde-haired girl stammered while she listened to the towering woman gulp down her cherry.

"Oh, I know that. I was asking if you liked it when I dominated you with my feet." Azula remarked with absolute smugness while staring down at her precious servant with fond golden eyes.

"T-that as well Azula-sama." Elle murmured with heated cheeks when the foot slid down in her line of vision before resting atop her face.

"Hm. You like my feet. You're adorable Elle…do you know that?" The princess commented with her stern eyes peering down at the small blonde beneath her foot.

"Y-you and my oneesans keep saying that." The blonde-haired girl spoke in a muffled voice that amused the woman seated above her.

"We keep saying that…because you are." Azula snorted before removing her foot from the girl's head and setting it back on the floor.

Ordinarily she wouldn't plant her foot on her new girlfriend's head if it was unwashed…but she planned on bathing with the girl afterward anyhow.

The foot bath…was just a way to precursor to getting naked with her little admirer.

And…it was also an excuse to order the girl to massage her feet.

She's always enjoyed having her feet tended to.

"T-that means so much to me Azula-sama. Knowing that you find me…adorable." Elle stated with a shy smile before grasping at Azula's left foot while holding it carefully over the water.

"You truly are a naïve little thing. How could you not know that you are beautiful? Really…I should think that it should be obvious." The princess scoffed while folding her palms in her lap while the small girl began to scrub her foot down.

"I…am too short…my breasts are growing slowly…and my hips are small too…" The blonde-haired girl murmured in a voice of low-self esteem that Azula decided she did not approve of.

"Look up at me…Elle." Azula commanded with a stern countenance while snapping her fingers just as the petite girl peered up at her with hopeful amber eyes.

"A-am I…really beautiful Azula-sama?" Elle pondered with a twinge of pink to her cheeks while gazing up at Azula with the woman rolling her eyes in response.

"Very much so. You are still a growing girl…you are only thirteen. By sixteen…you'll fill in." The princess assured with a hand on her chin while staring down at her handmaid feeling strangely displeased by her low self-worth.

"What about my…height…" The blonde-haired girl trailed off in a voice that desperately sought the princess's guidance.

It was a trait that Azula has come to enjoy.

Having this lovely young girl look to her to answer each and every little curiosity that crosses her young mind.

"You'll likely always be petite. But that isn't a bad thing." Azula explained while waving her hand before her sighing all the while.

"It…isn't?" Elle questioned with a blush on her cheeks while submerging her protector's foot in the wash bowl.

"No. I like you just as you are. I prefer petite girl's anyhow." The princess spoke with a stare of dominance while leaning down to pat her innocent admirer's head.

"I-I like tall girl's…" The blonde-haired girl admitted bashfully while staring up at Azula's smirking lips.

"Splendid! I have always been a tall woman myself. I trust that I am tall enough for you?" Azula purred with a supremely confident demeanor while peering down at the small girl so lovingly scrubbing her foot.

"Oh, very much so Azula-sama…I confide that I enjoy gazing up at you." Elle answered with a sunny smile while glancing up at Azula's pleased visage with a look of adoration in her young eyes.

"Really? This is good. Considering that I will always be taller than you. See we're a good mix. I like small girl's and you like tall girl's…" The princess trailed off in a contemplative tone while smiling down at the younger girl in a refined manner.

"It would seem so Azula-sama!" The blonde-haired girl exclaimed with a cheerful giggle while Azula petted her head once more.

"Let's see what else is there? It goes without saying that I like submissive girls. And I know by now that you crave my dominance. Once more…it seems as if we're ideal for each other!" Azula remarked with her golden eyes staring down at Elle beaming up at her while scrubbing the underside of her sole.

"I am so overjoyed to hear you say that. I-I feel as if I fell for you the moment, I laid eyes upon you." Elle confessed with her eyes gazing down at the damp foot with Azula wiggling her toes in a seductive manner.

"At first sight huh? Well I suppose that makes sense. I am flawless after all…" The princess replied before reclining in her throne with her hands in her lap.

"T-this loyal servant thinks so as well. M-may I ask your age Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl stuttered with her master gazing down at her before popping a cherry in her mouth.

"I am twenty years old." Azula sighed in a prideful voice only for her lips to purse into a thin line when her handmaid peered down at her feet once more.

"Am…I too young princess?" Elle pondered while listening to Azula gulp down yet another cherry.

"No. You are not. I prefer younger girl's as well. Relax…I like you." The princess cooed while peering down at her lovely pet with a trace of affection in her cold stare.

"O-oh Azula-sama your approval is all that I need in this life…I am so glad that I am not too young!" The blonde-haired girl cried with sweet laughter following her words all the while staring up at the princess glancing down at her with a sliver of fondness.

"Hm. You are the sweetest servant that I have ever had. I see that I will have to keep a close eye over you…" Azula sighed with her fingers twirling her dark hair before reaching into the bowl for another cherry.

"A-am…I really Her Highness's sweetest?" Elle requested with joy so great in her little eyes while Azula sat gazing down at her with her elegant eyes rolling all the while.

"I am not even going to answer that. You'll just have to decipher the rolling of my eyes. Eat." The princess spoke haughtily just before thrusting the cherry before her young handmaid's beaming face.

While doing so she savored the sensation of the teenager's tender palms diligently scrubbing her foot with a desire to please that no other servant could match.

"I find Her Highness's rule quite satisfactory!" The blonde-haired girl chirped before happily accepting her reward while the princess watched her swallow it with a refined smile.

"As I knew you would. My rule is a divine right. While we're on the subject of age…you turn fourteen in two and a half months. Is that right?" Azula commented with her brows furrowing in a thoughtful manner while lowering another fruit before Elle's waiting mouth.

"Mhm! My birthday is on July 11th!" Elle answered cheerfully while chewing her treat while Azula glanced down at her with amusement in her stern eyes.

"July? That is the name of a month I presume? We'll have to translate that over to our calendar. I need to be certain that I have the correct date." The princess announced with her golden gaze peering down at her loyal pet while the girl beamed up at her with innocent eyes while she knelt before her foot.

"July is a month yes. Y-you wish to record my birthday Your Highness?" The blonde-haired girl pondered with excitement lining her voice while she smiled peering down at the woman's wiggling toes.

"Of course! I will not have it said that Princess Azula doesn't know her own girl's birthday." Azula responded while staring down at Elle's adorable face with an imposing stare all the while wiggling her toes before the blushing girl's eyes in a teasing manner.

"T-thank you for…for thinking of me Azula-sama." Elle mumbled with her heart beating at an abnormal rate just as the flawless foot was thrust before her reddened face.

"As I said…you're an adorable little thing. Hm. Kiss my foot pet." The princess purred with a wolfish grin now adorning her lips while hanging her damp foot before the quivering teenager's face.

"Y-yes Azula-sama. I-I am your good girl." The blonde-haired girl spoke in a bow while leaning upward to kiss the center of the princess's hovering foot.

Toes began to wiggle once more before curling over her blushing face just as the regal woman began to use her face as a footrest once more.

"I know you are. Hm. Do you enjoy that?" Azula pondered as she peered down at Elle while chewing on a cherry with her toes wiggling over the small girl's eyes.

"I-it is so. I-I don't know why but I like it." Elle admitted with a gulp as she remained prostrated with Azula's foot pressing into her eyes.

"Interesting…you truly do enjoy all aspects of my dominance. It would seem that despite your naivety regarding sexual pastimes that you have an inherent interest in dominant women. Is that right?" The princess remarked while swallowing another cherry all the while staring down at her pet's small face beneath her damp foot.

"Y-yes princess. I-I like assertive girls." The blonde-haired girl stammered while Azula glanced down at her with a pleased smile before grasping at her face with her curling toes.

"Marvelous! You will find no woman more assertive than me. I believe that I am the ideal woman for you. Kiss it, again would you?" Azula commanded with her hand waving lazily while biting down on another cherry smiling even wider when she felt little lips kiss the underside of her toes.

"O-oh Azula-sama…I like your feet." Elle confessed with a timid voice while Azula smirked just as she slowly slid her foot off the girl's face in a purposefully seductive manner.

"I can tell. You don't have to worry anymore Elle. I'll look after you from now on. You're my good girl." The princess cooed while staring down at the petite girl kneeling before her with a flicker of fondness in her strict eyes.

"I will not worry! I will trust in my protector!" The blonde-haired girl exclaimed with a joyful voice while the regal woman peered down at her sighing.

"Yes, Elle…your protector." Azula stated with her fingers twirling through her dark-hair with her cold eyes watching Elle move to her other foot.

She was coming to find herself enjoying how Elle looked to her for guidance on all matters in life.

It was…strangely rewarding.

"I am safe with Azula-sama…and my oneesans. This is my family." Elle declared with heartwarming emotion in her voice while Azula gazed down at her with marginally taken aback golden eyes.

There was a brief moment of pause while the princess seemed to mull over the girl's gentle hearted words.

"Oh, very well Elle…we will be your family if that is what you wish." The princess sighed while glancing off to the side before turning back to her young admirer when she reached up to grasp her hand.

"Arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama." The blonde-haired girl spoke tenderly while the princess stared at her through the corner of her vision.

"Hm…I confide that I look forward to introducing you to Zuzu." Azula commented with a refined smirk gracing her crimson lips.

"I look forward to meeting your brother Azula-sama! Now I'll have a oniisan in addition to my oneesans!" Elle cheered with childish delight while Azula chewed on yet another cherry.

"I wouldn't get too excited about Zuko. He is a traitor to the Fire Nation. He has since joined forces with the Avatar…and as such he is the enemy." The princess explained while the young girl gazed up with a concerned amber eye.

She knew that her father will never see eye to eye on the matter of Elle.

But as far as she was concerned once she is Fire Lord she can do as she pleases.

She would have never thought the day would come when she would see marital value in a peasant girl.

After all of her failed efforts to find a suitable suitor it would be foolish to just toss such a lovely girl aside.

"I am sorry Azula-sama…" The blonde-haired girl trailed off in a more solemn voice while the princess peered down at her with her brows furrowing in a questioning manner.

"For what?" Azula pondered with her callous eyes gazing down at Elle at work on her foot with puzzlement in her gaze.

"Because you have to fight your own brother." Elle muttered with her young eyes gazing over the lovely foot while she dunked it in the warm water.

"Oh yes it's quite difficult for me. But I will just have to work through it…such is the burden that I must bear." The princess spoke with a dramatic sigh while chewing on another cherry in contentment with her handmaid rubbing her foot.

"You're so strong princess. I just know I'll be safe with you." The blonde-haired girl stated with a returning smile while the regal woman huffed haughtily.

"I am the strongest there is girl! You had best remember that." Azula barked while pointing a smug finger down at Elle while the girl nodded in a manner that pleased her.

"I-I shall never forget the strength of my princess charming! This loyal servant has ingrained it to memory." Elle chirped with a sunny smile while Azula's lips curved into a satisfied smile.

"Such a good girl…" The princess cooed with her backside sliding forward as she glanced down at her blushing pet so dutifully washing her foot.

"A-Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl stuttered in her usual endearing way that the princess had come to enjoy.

"Yes? What's going through that little mind of yours?" Azula purred just as she reached downward to brush her handmaid's hair from her amber eyes.

"I-I wrote you another…poem." Elle admitted with a nervous gulp as she averted her eyes from the regal woman's now surprised gaze in favor of continuing her labor.

Once more the princess found herself staring down at the young girl with her eyes expressing her brief surprise.

She was quick to recover though.

Azula leaned down over Elle with a charming smile on her crimson lips just as she continued to stroke her little admirer's hair.

"Another one hm? But you just gave me both a poem and a flower yesterday." The princess spoke in a silken tone just as she fiddled with her pet's hair while her young handmaid quivered so cutely.

"M-my princess is the keeper of my heart. Therefore, I will always write for you Azula-sama…once or twice will never be enough." The blonde-haired girl insisted while running the wash cloth over her princess's foot with a blush adorning her cheeks.

"My…. you are just precious. So…where is my poem?" Azula drawled in a seductive manner while staring down at Elle with her face propped up within the palm of her left hand.

"I-in my pocket princess." Elle answered meekly while shivering when she felt warm air sweep over her neck.

"In that case…I would like to hear you read my poem now." The princess remarked while sweeping her bangs from her eyes in a deliberately alluring manner.

"B-but what about my current task?" The blonde-haired girl blurted out with heated cheeks while she listened to the woman seated above her chuckle softly.

"So well behaved…. you may pause the washing of my feet. Briefly." Azula commented with her lips in a conceited smirk while she placed her palms in her lap.

"Yes Azula-sama! Your girl obeys." Elle cheered while sitting up with a smile as she began to dig into her pocket with wet fingers.

"Mhm…believe me I've noticed. I truly feel as if we're a prime fit for one another!" The princess exclaimed while lazily popping another cherry in her mouth with her eyes peering down at her pet in smug gratification.

"T-those words warm my heart as if they were your flames themselves. This is for you Azula-sama. It is called L-like the S-shining Sun.." The blonde-haired girl stammered with a flush as she held the poem in her shaky fingers while the royal woman sat in a moved silence.

The mighty princess said nothing in reply.

It was all she could do to gaze down at her servant with a rare spark of emotion now flashing in her cold golden eyes.

While her stern visage soon gave way to astonishment when the young girl's voice flowered into her ears once more.

"S-she's like the shining sun. Under her brilliant gaze I find myself unable to run. She burns bright just like a s-shimmering star. Under her burning rays her warmth is felt no matter how far." Elle read in a soft voice with an infatuated smile on her cheeks.

Azula could only gaze down with her golden gaze widening while she tried to resist the tiny blush that was now growing upon her regal cheeks.

She was so enthralled by her young servant's most recent tribute that she hadn't even realized that she had already swallowed her cherry.

"S-she protects me with her radiant flame. Under her guidance there is no need for shame. S-she rises and sets over me. Under her rule I am truly free. She…she is my most trusted friend. Under her watch…I will stay until the very end." The blonde-haired girl concluded in a bashful voice while she held a dainty hand against her cheek.

While the princess was so taken aback by the touching poem that she had been rendered speechless.

Then Azula turned her stunned golden gaze down to her skittish handmaid as she observed the girl with a fond eye.

Only to notice that her serving girl was twiddling her thumbs with her little worried amber eyes peering over at the wall of the royal spa.

"D-do…d-do you like it Azula-sama?" Elle pondered with baited breath while her heart began to beat like a roller coaster.

Until at long last she heard her princess clear her throat in a sophisticated manner.

"Elle." Azula called out while gazing down at her small pet with her lips now in a pleased smile.

While she continued to stare down at the girl with boundless approval in her hardened golden eyes.

"Y-yes p-princess?" The blonde-haired girl asked in a stutter as she gulped while she watched her master bend over through the corner of her eye.

"It was impeccably written. Your poetry…is truly something to be praised." The princess announced with her stern eyes peering down at her handmaid just as she set her palm in the girl's soft hair.

"R-really Azula-sama? You think my poetry is that…good?" Elle replied with her youthful cheeks overtaking a shade of crimson.

"Of course, I do! Silly girl. When I become Fire Lord, I shall see that your works receive the recognition that they deserve." Azula declared while patting Elle's head all the while allowing the small girl to fall face first into her thighs.

"Your recognition is all that I need in this life…" The blonde-haired girl trailed off sweetly while beaming under the princess's petting hand all the while burrowing into her curvaceous thigh.

"Hm. Well you'll receive no shortage of that. I shall rise and set above you for all of your days." The princess sighed with her fingers tenderly dancing through her young pet's hair while gulping down yet another cherry.

This was…just the best.

There were no words for how content she was right now.

Just none.

"G-good. I wouldn't be happy if you didn't." Elle murmured with her face buried in the princess's soft thigh all the while enjoying how she petted her with such care.

"Try not to fret so much…my pet. I am keeping you…I wouldn't cast aside such a good pet." Azula assured in a dominant voice while staring down at Elle all the while dropping another cherry in her mouth.

"O-oh Azula-sama…" The blonde-haired girl whined out in a muffled voice while listening to the pleasant sound of Azula gulping down her most recent cherry with her palm resting upon her head.

"Do you like that? When I pet you in my lap?" The princess inquired with her strict eyes peering down at the small girl clinging to her thigh once more.

"I-I do. I enjoy it when you pet me Azula-sama…" Elle trailed off in a needy voice while whining as she began to nudge Azula's thigh as if asking for more.

"Hm. You enjoy soft domination. I am not usually one for tenderness…but in your case I will make an exception." Azula commented just as she dropped another cherry in her mouth.

While she stared down at the girl in amusement as her servant continued to mewl for her attentions.

"I-I am Azula-sama's girl." The blonde-haired girl mewled with her hands grasping at the voluptuous thigh before her with a serene look in her eyes.

"Mhm. I have indeed decreed it so…open your mouth." The princess commanded just when her fingers dropped before the small girl's face with her little eyes peering upward.

The regal woman was dangling a cherry before her blushing face and she soon found her mouth opening upon command.

"Yes princess!" Elle chirped happily just as she began to chew the cherry with a radiant smile about her.

"Do you enjoy it when I feed you?" Azula pondered with her face resting in her other hand while smirking down at Elle's adorable face.

"I confess that I do!" The blonde-haired girl exclaimed sweetly with her cheeks as red as a tomato while staring up at Azula's elegant countenance.

"Then I shall continue to do so. Now…get back to work! My feet must be absolutely spotless!" The princess barked as she snaped her fingers in a supremely haughty manner.

While she delighted in how her admirer sat up in a trained panic.

"Y-yes Azula-sama! R-right away!" Elle stammered just as she sunk into yet another bow as she grasped at Azula's lovely foot.

While her amber eyes admired its smooth surface.

"Oh, and do be certain that you get between the toes. I simply will not stand poor foot hygiene!" Azula announced with her toes wiggling before Elle's face all the while the girl gulped in understanding.

"I will princess! I promise! Between the toes!" The blonde-haired girl cried out innocently as she began to wash the princess's long foot with a blush decorating her cheeks.

"Good girl." The princess purred before raising her one clean foot while she lightly patted the girl's head with her heel.

"I-I do my best Azula-sama. I hope you know that…" Elle trailed off in an emotional voice never bothered by the foot resting in her hair.

"I do Elle. I assure you that I do. You scrub so well…many of the servants don't even know how to properly wash my feet…" Azula complained with yet another heavy sigh while reclining in her plush throne.

"If Her Highness wishes…I would be happy to take up the task on a daily basis." The blonde-haired girl remarked in a naïve voice with her hands diligently running the cloth between her master's toes.

While the other foot remained propped up upon her hair.

Unbeknownst to the young girl the princess now sat above her with her regal lips curving into a beyond satisfied smile.

"Oh, very well dear. If you insist, I suppose I could fit it into your daily work schedule." The princess spoke with a smile while popping another cherry into her waiting lips all the while chewing on it in contentment.

"I will not let you down Azula-sama! I will ensure that your feet are sparkling each and every day!" Elle chimed with a bright smile while the foot upon her head retreated back to its rightful place beside the other.

"That's my girl. The only one worth keeping around." Azula stated with a regal smirk while gazing down at her small admirer happily continuing her labor.

About an hour later the princess sat surveying her feet with approval in her callous eyes before her gaze flickered down to the young blonde prostrated at the foot of her throne.

"How…did I do princess?" The blonde-haired girl requested in a nervous voice while Azula glanced down at her with her signature imposing stare that made all but her cower in fear.

"Passable…it will suffice." The princess replied in a taunting voice just as she stared down at her little handmaid all the while savoring how the adorable girl gazed up with panicked amber eyes.

"J-just passable? Is…there something I did wrong? W-would you like me to repeat it Azula-sama?" Elle pondered in a fretful voice with her hands now tugging on the amused princess's robes while the woman glanced down with an entertained gaze.

"Repeat it? You would repeat it if I stated that I was displeased?" Azula responded with her regal lips once more forming a delighted smile.

What a splendid little find this lovely girl is!

"I don't understand why you are asking master…I am your most loyal servant. There is nothing that I would not do for you. I would do it ten times over if that was what it took to please you! I will redo it for your princess!" The blonde-haired girl explained in a hurried manner before leaning down to grasp a foot only to blink in confusion when it slid out of reach.

Then a palm landed on her shoulder which prompted her to gaze up at the princess's strict visage just when the older girl stared down at her sighing under her breath.

"While it pleases me that you are so enthusiastic about repeating it ten times over…there is no need to do so Elle. I was just teasing you. You did very well." The princess announced with her backside sliding forward while she peered down at her now overjoyed pet.

"I-I did?" Elle asked in a hopeful voice just as a bright smile broke out on her lips when a strong palm patted her head once more.

"Yes, you did a fine job…as you do with all of your work." Azula spoke while patting Elle's head with her cold eyes gazing down at the blushing teenager.

Then a puzzling cry of joy emanated throughout the spa while the princess still gazed down at the small blonde with a sliver of fondness in her stare.

"I am so relieved Azula-sama! I was worried that I had displeased you!" The blonde-haired girl chirped happily just as she began to laugh warmly all the while grasping at the woman's knee as if begging for a hug.

"Hm. I am not concerned with you displeasing me. You are a good girl." The princess purred in a silken voice with her palm resting in the petite girl's hair all while her handmaid hugged her knee.

"Yay! I have pleased my princess! This is a moment to be proud of!" Elle cheered with childish glee while thrusting her fist above her.

Azula found that she couldn't resist the fond smirk that crept unto her lips upon hearing those joyful words.

"You have indeed pleased me. But don't you relax just yet…there is more work to be done." The princess remarked in a smug voice while peering down at her small admirer's joyful countenance.

"How else may I serve you Azula-sama? What can I do for you!" The blonde-haired girl questioned in an eager tone while gazing up at her gratified princess with a devoted demeanor.

That was when a freshly washed foot was shoved in her line of vision once more all the while she gazed at it with transfixed eyes.

While doing so the regal woman's palm continued to pat her head.

"You have only finished washing my feet. Now I demand a massage!" Azula barked just as she pointed a finger down at her submissive girl while snapping her fingers in a spoiled manner.

"O-of course princess! Right away!" Elle agreed while diligently grasping at the woman's nearest foot only to gaze up when her master pointed behind her.

"Get my foot lotion, it's on the shelf with my beauty supplies." The princess ordered with her hand waving in the air all the while gratified by how the girl leaped to her feet.

"Yes Azula-sama. If that is your will then it shall be done." The blonde-haired girl spoke while bowing courteously at the hip with Azula's callous eyes scanning her grudgingly recognizing her devotion.

"Good, Elle. Very good." Azula cooed with her palms now folded in her lap while watching as Elle hurried over to collect her lotion.

"Azula-sama? I have a question." Elle began in a joyful tone while fumbling through various lotions and shampoos.

"Oh? What does my favorite servant wish to ask me?" The princess inquired with her head tilting to glance at her pet's back with an amused golden gaze.

"W-will my princess charming…d-dance with me again?" The blonde-haired girl stuttered with her back turned to Azula's now wolfishly grinning face.

"You wish for your princess to lead you in a dance once more?" Azula asked with a noticeable purr while watching Elle begin to rush back to her side.

"T-that's so Your Highness." Elle mumbled as she came to a stop before the woman's throne before bending to curtsy her once more.

It was something that never escaped her observant princess's attention.

Every time she demonstrated her reverence Azula would gaze upon her with boundless approval that made her chest swell in pride.

"I must say Elle…your courtesy is highly admirable. You never fail to show me proper reverence." The princess announced with her arms resting on the sides of her throne while peering back at the bowing girl with a trace of affection in her stare.

"You are my master Azula-sama. You rescued me from the cold rain, and gave me a home. I…am thankful. So very grateful." The blonde-haired girl spoke in a bashful voice with her arms neatly at her sides while remaining bent in her bow.

"I can tell. Well…I will not have it said that Princess Azula does not recognize the loyal. So, I shall say it once more. I approve of you girl." Azula informed with a nod of recognition all the while staring back at Elle's innocent face with stern yet fond eyes.

"I-I have Princess Azula's approval!" Elle exclaimed before laughing happily while her master still gazed on with her strict eyes focusing on her face.

"That you do my pet. Now kneel! Right here." The princess commanded with a snap of her domineering fingers all the while smirking when the petite girl dropped to the floor once more.

"Her Highness's feet must be massaged! And I will see it done." The blonde-haired girl stated with a smile while bending over to begin work on the left foot.

That was when the princess's right foot arose into the air before the woman lazily slid it over her shoulder all the while making her blush when she began to curl her toes in her hair.

"I need a foot rest…you don't mind do you pet?" Azula pondered in a seductive voice all the while twirling her dark hair with her foot propped up on her handmaid's shoulder.

"Oh no! I don't mind at all Azula-sama. If it will make you happy then I will be a foot rest." Elle chirped with a sunny smile just as she began to rub her master's foot with lotion in her hands.

"Mhm. You truly are the best pet. So eager to please…and so lovely as well." The princess cooed with a charming smile while wiggling her toes in her young admirer's blonde hair.

"A-anything that will make you happy princess. Makes me happy!" The blonde-haired girl replied with a hum while dutifully rubbing Azula's foot with adoration in her innocent eyes.

"I confess that I find those words pleasing. Now…you desire to dance once more?" Azula questioned in a smooth voice that flowed through Elle's ears like honey upon the tongue.

"I-I do Azula-sama…that is. If you will have me. I-I know I can't…d-dance and you move so gracefully…" Elle muttered in a voice of noticeably low self-esteem.

"The reason I move so gracefully is because I am a prodigy firebender…firebending is much like dancing really. It's about precision…and form." The princess explained in a surprisingly genuine attempt at education while holding a finger up for emphasis before the young girl's awestruck face.

"I…didn't know that. That is so interesting." The blonde-haired girl responded with her fingers kneading the flawless foot while the other continued to grasp at her long locks of hair.

"I suppose so. But to answer your question. Yes, I will dance with you again…" Azula trailed off with her domineering eyes peering down at Elle's now overjoyed little face.

"A-arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama…" Elle stammered with a happy sniffle while the regal woman gazed down at her with her toes clutching at her hair in a dominant manner.

"You belong to me." The princess hissed while skillfully pulling on her handmaid's gasping face with her toes alone.

"Y-yes princess. I-I belong to you." The blonde-haired girl agreed with her heart racing rapidly while her head was tugged on lightly by Azula's clenched toes.

"Good. Very good. I enjoy your submission Elle." Azula sighed with her fingers lazily flipping her hair from her eyes while reclining in her throne with her other hand resting over her belly.

"I-I am so honored that my princess deems me worthy…" Elle trailed off with her head bowed low while she rubbed the soft foot with a radiant smile.

"If you weren't Elle…I would let you know." The princess stated while gazing down at the small girl with her toes continuing to dig playfully into her pet's hair.

"M-may I ask why Her Highness has decided to consider a servant as a marital candidate? Surely a woman of your stature must have a long line of suitors!" The blonde-haired girl pondered with her eyes peering down at the foot while Azula's lips curled into a thin line.

It was a question that annoyed her ever so slightly.

But the girl meant no offense so she knew not to snap at her.

"You deduced correctly…I do indeed have a long line of suitors…" Azula spoke haughtily with her toes playing with Elle's hair when her words caused the girl to peer upward in a sudden panic.

"W- wakarimashita …" Elle mumbled lamely while the regal woman peered down at her sighing heavily.

For some reason Azula has decided that she disliked it when the girl offered her such a downcast wakarimashita.

"However, most men are too terrified to approach me. Rightfully so! The Great Princess Azula is not approached so tepidly…though they are cowards all the same." The princess declared icily with her eyes narrowing into her usual glare.

"Oh! I see! Your beauty intimidates them." The blonde-haired girl chimed while staring up at Azula with a returning smile to hear that her place is secure.

"Hm. That it does. I simply cannot respect a suitor that is too afraid to approach me." Azula stated with a scowl while pressing her foot into the back of Elle's quivering neck with her toes curling into the girl's skin.

"B-but surely you must have had a boy or two that caught your eye?" Elle asked in an effort to decipher just how secure her position was.

"Oh, there was one…or two. Not too long ago. There was a boy…that I met at a party. I…thought he was cute…though not as cute as you of course." The princess admitted with a sigh while leaning back in contentment with the small girl's hands trailing across her sole.

"This servant is overjoyed to hear that Her Highness deems me cute…" The blonde-haired girl mumbled timidly while blushing when the princess's toes wiggled against the side of her face.

"We shared a kiss…and then just when I proposed that we could be the strongest couple in this world he ran away like a little craven!" Azula exclaimed with her lips pursed in a glare of disapproval.

"Well! Then he wasn't worthy of Her Highness in the first place!" Elle assured with the woman staring down at her nodding in agreement.

"No Elle, no he was not. And as punishment for rejecting me…I burned his house down." The princess confessed with a sadistic smirk while the small girl peered up at her now sweatdropping.

She was beginning to see just why so many men were fearful of approaching her princess.

"I guess you showed him then." The blonde-haired girl piped happily while Azula glanced down at her with fondness in her stern eyes.

"I most certainly did." Azula commented with a confident nod all the while savoring the girl's hands laboring to please her.

About a forty-five minutes later…

The princess's feet swiftly changed positions with the right foot now lowering before the blonde's face while she continued to indulge herself with her cherries.

"The other now…" Azula trailed off with a relaxed sigh while Elle began to massage her other foot without delay.

"Of course, Azula-sama. May I ask if I am doing well?" Elle questioned in a hopeful voice while gazing up at the regal woman's sighing face.

"I confess that you have skilled hands…" The princess responded while staring down at her favored handmaid with the upmost approval in her eyes.

"I am glad to hear it!" The blonde-haired girl chirped while humming all the while as she continued to massage the foot before her.

Then finally after another forty-five minutes of intensive labor the princess receded her feet with a much happier expression than before her handmaid's labors.

"Mhm. You did well. Exceedingly well. I am very pleased with your service…Elle." Azula announced with her golden gaze peering down at her kneeling servant while she folded her palms in her lap.

"T-though I am but a young girl. I strive to please you Azula-sama. Hearing that I have makes me so happy…so very happy." Elle answered while peering up at Azula's stoic visage with a sunny smile.

"Hm. For your diligence I have decided to reward you with a privilege that no other servant has ever received..." The princess trailed off with an alluring voice while sighing heavily once more.

"R-really? What is my reward Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl blurted out joyfully while the regal woman stared down at her with pleased eyes.

"I am going to take a bath…and you…" Azula spoke just as she suddenly stood up while gazing down at Elle's bowing form with her lips curving into a smirk.

Elle was silent while staring up at Azula's captivating face with her heart racing all the while.

"Get to join me." The princess concluded with her clenched fists now upon her hips while glancing down at her servant's astonished face with smug eyes.

"B-bathe with you Azula-sama?" Elle questioned with her cheeks as red as a tomato all the while peering up at the princess's authoritative countenance.

"I will not repeat myself. Now come girl!" Azula ordered with smugness lacing her voice just as she loudly snapped her fingers all the while enjoying how Elle immediately sprang to her feet.

"Yes princess! I'll be good!" The blonde-haired girl cried out while she padded after Azula with the woman glancing back at her over her shoulder.

"After this we are going to have dinner together. The chefs will cook it. You will serve it to me…as a reward you may eat beside me." The princess stated sternly while peering down at the small girl's overjoyed face.

And then before Azula could react she was once more assaulted by a blonde blur that had promptly latched around her belly.

"Elle! Get off of me now or you will not be joining me…for either!" Azula bellowed with her eyes now glaring down at Elle's face buried in her belly.

"But I am so happy Azula-sama! I just have to hug you! You're the best friend I could ever ask for!" Elle exclaimed with a bright smile while pushing her face into the stiffening woman's stomach.

The princess couldn't help but roll her eyes down at the naïve girl for believing that they were 'best friends'.

But even so…despite her annoyance she was fond of the girl.

"The desire…isn't mutual. Now release me!" The princess barked as she trudged towards her bath with her eyes twitching in aggravation when her admirer clung to her side.

"But Azula-sama I just spent three hours servicing your feet…surely we can snuggle now." The blonde-haired girl sighed while swooning dreamily as she walked with her arm intertwined with the rigid woman's.

Azula now glanced down at Elle with deadpan golden eyes utterly taken aback by her childish desire to cuddle.

"There will be no snuggle! Your payment for serving my feet was having the honor of kneeling before them. Now…let go." Azula spoke with a slight growl while finally shaking the pouting Elle off her bicep.

"But I want to snuggle…" Elle whined out pitifully while padding behind Azula's tall form just as they entered the gigantic bath.

"Must I punish you?" The princess questioned with sadistic delight in her voice as she turned to peer down at her pouty pet with her arms folded over her breasts.

"N-no Azula-sama…I-I am sorry. I just love you so much that I want to hug you forever and ever…." The blonde-haired girl trailed off with a mewl while the regal woman gazed down at her rolling her lovely eyes.

"How touching. Just…be a good girl and…I will reward you as I see fit." Azula purred with her fingers now brushing her bangs aside while her imposing eyes stared down at her childish pet.

"Yes Azula-sama! I will be the best girl I can for you!" Elle cried out while beaming up at Azula's hardened visage.

"That's what I like to hear. Now…fill my bath." The princess ordered with her fingers pointing from her favored handmaid to the golden faucet.

"Right away princess!" The blonde-haired girl shouted while bowing once more at the hip before her master who now peered down at her smiling.

"Hm. I approve of your courtesy…I will admit that you are rather refined…for a peasant." Azula commented with her fingers curling beneath her chin all the while eying Elle's bent over with her head inclined in a show of reverence.

"I am happy that you think so Azula-sama. I shall go fill your bath now." Elle stated as she arose while adorably saluting the amused Azula before scampering off to fill the vast royal tub.

"Don't bother concerning yourself over the temperature…a firebender heats her own bath." The princess announced while glancing over her shoulder at her young companion's nodding face.

"Right. Her Highness warms the waters like the heat from the shining sun." The blonde-haired girl mumbled while gazing into the extravagant bath just as waters rapidly spilled into its confines.

All the while unaware that Azula was staring at her kneeling back with pleased golden eyes.

'Like the shining sun…the girl is a skilled poet…and an equally impressive painter. This one has her merits…of that I have no doubt.' Azula thought with small smirk while untying her sash just as her robes fell down to the floor at her bare feet.

"Is that high enough Azula-sama…eep!" Elle squeaked after turning around to find the tall princess now stood naked before the tub.

Her cheeks heated up with a warmth like no other while she gulped when her amber eyes briefly passed over Azula's simply astonishing body.

Her princess was everything that a girl hoped to grow into and more…so much more.

A refined facial shape, perfectly sized breasts, voluptuous hips and a beautiful, so very beautiful bottom.

Just as quick as her eyes had flickered over her princess's naked body, she averted her gaze now peering down into the waters while the woman gazed at her back in amusement.

"What's wrong? Haven't you ever seen another girl…or should I say a woman naked before?" The princess purred in a seductive voice while striding over with her hands at her sides.

All the while her breasts bounced ever so slightly now that they were free of their restraints.

"N-no master I-I haven't. O-only my own body." The blonde-haired girl stuttered with baited breath while the princess now loomed above her with her brows furrowing inquisitively.

"So, I am the first female that you've seen naked? That is pleasing to hear." Azula cooed with her hand underneath her chin while staring down at her pet adorably quivering under her gaze.

"Y-yes p-princess. I-is that enough?" Elle repeated in a stammer while gesturing to the mostly filled tub.

"It would appear so." The princess spoke just as she stepped past the small girl in a purposefully slow manner.

"O-okay A-Azula-sama…" The blonde-haired girl trailed off only to be stricken into silence when the statuesque woman's bare bottom entered her line of vision.

"It does seem adequate." Azula stated with a click of her tongue just as her backside almost pushed into Elle's blushing face.

"G-good." Elle blurted out lamely while gazing down at her feet with a reddened face when the princess's bare cheek pressed into the top of her head.

"Oh, my apologies servant. I didn't notice you back there." The princess taunted in a tone of feigned innocence with amusement in her eyes when her bare ass lightly brushed against the spellbound girl's face.

"P-please show m-mercy to me A-Azula-sama…I am new to this." The blonde-haired girl pleaded with a cute stammer while the princess smirked down at her.

"Show mercy? You are an amusing little pet. But very well…" Azula sighed just as she raised her foot to enter the huge tub.

Her body sank into its waters with her full backside facing the teenage girl who was trying her hardest not to look.

She slowly submerged herself within the now warming waters just when her bottom vanished beneath its depths.

And then her stomach as well before she regally seated herself in the far end of the tun all the while peering out at her little handmaid with expectant golden eyes.

"Well? Aren't you going to join me?" The princess pondered with her fingers lazily running through her hair while she stared at the hunched over girl with her red lips curving into a smile.

"I-I have never b-bathed with another person." Elle admitted as she sat fiddling her thumbs while swallowing nervously all along.

"I see. So, I am the first in that regard as well." Azula replied in a silken voice while adjusting her position with her firebending warming the waters to a controlled temperature.

"Y-yes." The blonde-haired girl mumbled while the princess's lovely sighed flowed into her ears.

"Don't be so skittish…you do want to bath with your princess, don't you? Come Elle, I promise I won't eat you." The princess called out in a charming voice while staring at the small girl's quivering back.

"Y-yes Azula-sama. A-as you say. Forever as you say." Elle finally agreed just as she stood up with her hands shakily untying her robes.

Though Azula would not say it aloud she found herself displeased by her handmaid's seeming worry that she would take her by force.

She could only gaze at her pet calmly when her robes were dropped to the floor revealing the young blonde's mostly naked form.

"T-this as well?" The blonde-haired girl whispered in a tone of low self-esteem while gesturing to her panties.

"It's rather pointless leaving them on don't you think? Calm yourself girl. It's just a bath." Azula sighed while turning in the splashing waters just when the girl slowly removed her underwear.

"I-I trust you Azula-sama…so I will share these waters with you." Elle spoke quietly with a small smile while padding forward just as she gingerly touched the water with her toes.

The princess's callous eyes surveyed her admirer while inwardly pondering if she made the water too hot.

But then the girl slipped into the tub with her hands adorably covering a growing blonde bush and her other over her developing chest.

"Just quit your cowering girl. It's not like I am going to do anything obscene to you." The princess snorted with her arms lazily reclining against the wall of the tub.

"I-I was never worried that you would. T-this is just new to me…where do I sit Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl stuttered while gazing about nervously in the direction of her amused master.

"With me. Come pet." Azula purred just as she wagged her fingers all the while watching as Elle waded over to her side like a devoted kitten.

"I-I would like to sit beside you master." Elle admitted shyly just as she happily made her way over to the naked woman's side with a blush overcoming her naïve cheeks.

"Then sit…right here." The princess commanded just as she patted her naked lap while the young girl turned even redder than before.

If that was possible.

"I-in your lap Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl requested with her heart beating rapidly while she peered timidly at the princess's flawless visage.

"In my lap. Don't you want me to pet you? If you sit in my lap, I'll pet you." Azula cooed in a honeyed voice with her fingers making a come-hither motion.

To her utter entertainment that was all it took to get the childish girl wading into her lap with an eager smile.

"I want to be petted by my master!" Elle cried out with a bashful smile before turning with her backside lowering into the waters before seating herself between the older woman's shapely thighs.

All the while leaning back with her cheeks a lovely shade of crimson when her head suddenly pushed into two damp breasts that dwarfed her own.

"Mhm. Such a good pet. I confide that I like you…" The princess trailed off in a purr with her palm now trailing through her quivering pet's hair.

"I-I like you too…A-Azula-sama." The blonde-haired girl stuttered with a bright smile while sinking back into soft breasts while the woman's hand patted her gently.

"Hm. You like being my pet…don't you?" Azula whispered in a domineering voice while she continued to stroke her handmaid's blushing head.

"I-it is so. I-I like being the princess's favorite girl." Elle whispered with a shy smile while the princess petted her in a soothing submission.

"I can see that…tell me what you like most about being my girl." The princess purred while snaking an arm around the much smaller girl as she pulled the red-faced girl into a dominant embrace.

"I…feel special…like I am valued under Her Highness's service. I feel safe…I know that my princess will protect me." The blonde-haired girl confessed in a passionate voice while the regal woman gazed over her shoulder now holding a finger to her chin.

"You are the first to seek my protection…it is a new notion to me. But pleasing all the same. So be it Elle…as promised. I will protect you." Azula spoke while pressing her face into Elle's blonde tresses with her warm breath tickling the trembling girl's neckline.

"O-oh Azula-sama…you are so dreamy…" Elle gushed with a hand on her cheek while Azula now peered down at her with an arrogant smirk adorning her lips.

"I know. I have an irresistible magnetic pull that is quite difficult to resist…" The princess trailed off with her fingers running through her young handmaid's lovely hair.

"Magnets princess? How did you get magnets in your body?" The blonde-haired girl pondered innocently as she craned her neck to peer up at the princess who was now scrunching her nose up in bafflement.

"No! I do not have magnets in my body…silly girl." Azula snorted while rolling her eyes down at her adorably confused admirer.

It was yet another reminder that she needed to get the girl up to speed in her education.

"But you're the one that said you did master. Not me." Elle stated with a childishly factual voice while chewing on her lip just as she listened to Azula groan above her.

"That was a figure of speech. You do know what that is…don't you?" The princess sighed all the while gazing down at the small girl leaning into her wet breasts.

"Um…kind of…" The blonde-haired girl muttered lamely while her shoulders slumped while listening to the woman snort above her.

"I'll take that as a no. Fortunately for you…I am here to school your little mind. Over the coming weeks I will arrange for you to begin lessons." Azula announced with her arm curling around Elle's naked chest while the petite girl gazed up at her with joyous little eyes.

"R-really Azula-sama? I get to return to school once more?" Elle questioned with a hopeful voice that amused Azula all the while turning around to cuddle into the woman's generous chest.

"Even better than school. I shall supervise your lessons personally." The princess answered in her usual stern voice while gazing down at her little admirer curling up in her lap.

"Arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama!" The blonde-haired girl exclaimed with glee while laughing warmly before burying her face just below the woman's breasts.

All the while golden eyes peered down at Elle seemingly pleased with the girl's eagerness to explore her body.

"I will not have it said that Princess Azula does not value education. Most certainly not…with my girl." Azula purred once more with her arms clutching at Elle's small frame all the while peering down at the blushing girl beneath her breasts.

"Her Highness's girl…" Elle repeated in a swooning voice with her caretaker's strong arm wrapping around her while she reclined with her face against the woman's upper belly.

"This is a bit premature…to say the least. But I have decided to claim you. I own you now…Elle." The princess hissed with her backside sinking in the tub while she lowered her face into her quivering servant's neck.

"You own me…Azula-sama…and I wouldn't have it any other way." The blonde-haired girl agreed with a sunny smile while falling back into the naked woman's powerful embrace.

In that moment the flame lamps flickered blue with the lighting in the royal spa overtaking a tint of azure that had young Elle gazing on in awe.

All while Azula clutched her in a possessive hold with her golden eyes peering down at her shaking back in a truly imposing stare.

"And don't you ever forget it girl!" Azula hissed in an aggressive voice with her hot breath tickling Elle's fair skin.

All the while the small girl sat wide eyed with her face resting in between the regal woman's breasts.

While enrapturing blue flames continued to light as far as her inexperienced eyes could see.

"How could I ever forget my princess right? Oh Azula-sama…I will always remember that I belong to you." The blonde-haired spoke with ardor all while falling into her master's bust with an expression of belonging in her naïve eyes.

"What a good girl…" The princess trailed off in a marginally softer voice with her fingers fiddling with the young girl's blonde locks all the while gazing down at her little admirer with fond golden eyes.

"Princess…" Elle murmured with her hands grasping at the alluring woman's neck with wanting in her innocent gaze.

"You are such an adorable little pet…" Azula commented with her crimson lips curving into a content smirk when Elle began to nuzzle her breasts like a kitten pleading to be held.

"Y-you are all that I ever need Azula-sama…please protect me." The blonde-haired girl whispered with her voice briefly wavering as she sunk into the soothing waters while hiding in her master's flesh.

"Humph! Foolish little pet I already told you that I would. Do you doubt my strength already? You had better not!" The princess scoffed with a snide snort while glaring down at her quivering pet with her gaze reflecting her absolute dominance.

"N-no! O-of course not! My master is the strongest!" Elle cheered with a smile while pressing her face into a lovely breast before sighing blissfully.

"Hm. You say that…but I ponder if an even greater show of my dominance is necessary. It…may well be." Azula remarked with her hand waving before her callous face all the while holding Elle into her bare breasts.

"If you wish it so Azula-sama. You are the one who makes the decisions. I just follow my beautiful princess…" The blonde-haired girl whined while burrowing into soft breasts with her expression now a radiant one.

"Now…that's what I like to hear. Just be a good girl for me…always." The princess sighed with her fingers swiping the hair from her eyes while peering down at the pretty young girl in her arms.

"Yes Azula-sama…I will be a good girl for my alpha." Elle agreed in a timid voice while Azula gazed down at her with a pleased smirk.

"Mhm. Such a well-trained girl…" Azula stated in a tone of satisfaction while she began to pet her handmaid's head with her long fingers running through the girl's hair.

"D-does this mean that I am snuggable?" The blonde-haired girl requested timidly with a blush adorning her young cheeks while she clutched at the taller female's chest.

"That silly word again? Snuggable?" The princess snorted with her strict eyes all the while gazing down at the yawning girl in her arms.

"A-am I?" Elle pondered with a stutter once more just before yawning loudly once again.

"Elle, just shut up." Azula commanded while rolling her elegant eyes down at Elle's form curling up upon her lap.

"Yes Azula-sama. Always as Her Highness commands." The blonde-haired girl mumbled with yet another yawn before resting her head upon a comfortable breast.

"Now that is what I like to hear." The princess announced in a gratified voice while staring down at her clingy admirer with a possessive countenance.

Azula held onto Elle with the young girl continuing to yawn drowsily into her bare chest.

All the while musing that her little admirer was indeed worth keeping around.

The only one worth keeping around…

#Azula #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #yuri #ty lee avatar #mai avatar

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fierce-little-miana · 5 years

Text

Meetings

Here is my first entry for the @saitofest 2020 following the prompt Fond Memories | The Best of the Best, beta-read by the lovely and frighteningly fast and efficient @fleeting-blossom-of-the-dawn (thank you so much). Thank you to @impracticaldemon for organizing and @queengurako for helping with the information.

This is a onceagainbutwithfeeling fic about Saito arrival at the Shinsengumi. Technically this is canon compliant and historically ‘informed’ (just like your favorite period dramas are). Enjoy!

(and if I made a mistake in the way people addressed each other just know that I am sorry, I did my best)

Edo was not as loud as Saito remembered it. The city was as heavy as the summer heat, but it was more bearable than it had been two years ago, like a wound which had closed. People’s accent wasn’t singing to his hear but it wasn’t accusing him either. He found himself capable of walking as he had done in Kyoto, one step after another toward a goal. Yet, he still caught himself stopping for a few seconds, looking for something familiar. Nothing came, even the cicadas chirping sounded foreign.

“And this our main courtyard,” Inoue said pointing to a square in front of them. “Kondo-san likes to organize contests here.”

Saito nodded to his guide who was smiling at him. The moment lasted a bit longer than it was comfortable and he saw the man’s muscles around his mouth twitch, the smile never disappearing. Had he expected another answer? Before Saito could even try adding something to show proper respect to Inoue the man declared with some affability.

“Well I guess you would rather want to meet everyone Saito-kun? Follow-me.”

This time the man turned away without waiting for an answer. Saito went after him in silence letting his eyes take the courtyard in a bit more. It was very neat. He had heard conflicting things about the Shieikan dojo, not all of them good, but everyone agreed on the fact that it brought together unusual men. He was glad discipline wasn’t disregarded nevertheless.

“You studied with Yoshida-san in Kyoto, right?”

Saito’s attention snapped back to Inoue. Tentatively he answered:

“Ha…”

“You didn’t want to continue there?”

He felt no ill intention behind the question, just honest curiosity.

“I was unable to attain the Menkyo Kaiden,” he answered while putting his right hand on the hilt of the sword he carried on the same side.

It was Inoue’s turn to answer with only a nod. He did so after a short instant of consideration. Then he kept leading him within the compound. Saito wondered what it must feel like, to welcome in one’s school someone who had failed somewhere else. Surely no-one wanted a student like that. Still as long as the man was ready to guide, he was willing to follow.

Saito could now hear voices. Two more turns on the engawa and they arrived in front of a room whose shoji were wide open to try to create some sort of draught to fight the summer heat.

There was a dozen of men in the room, training with vigor. Two of them were directing the session. The first instructor was the largest and the loudest of the two. He wore a green bandana and was correcting a group of three men at the same time. Saito was first taken aback by his conduct, but he quickly realized that the advice he was giving was clear and appropriate. The trainees looked attentive and eager to satisfy his demands. His stance was quite good too. If his apparent physical strength was matched by enough kenjutsu talent he could be a dangerous opponent.

But it was the second instructor that drew his attention. He didn’t look much older than Saito but clearly he was the one who most set the trainees on edge. He walked through the room, apparently relaxed, but his pass had something feline about it. Something that didn’t bode well for anyone crossing him. And indeed, when a trainee started to get distracted and sloppy the man would stop in front of him and fix him up until he was somehow capable of correcting his form. This was not an efficient teaching technique by any means, but Saito had to recognize that the instructor was razor sharp in noticing mistakes and lack of discipline. His green eyes seemed acute to his surroundings. Unsurprisingly they had fixed upon Saito when he appeared in full view of the room.

He wasn’t completely hostile but not far off and didn’t even bother to hide it. Still Saito did not budge. There was something about this man that gave him the urge to face him.

“Hey Gen-san, who is the visitor?” a red-haired man sitting at Saito and Inoue’s right asked.

“This is Saito-kun,” the man kindly answered. “He has expressed interest in our dojo.”

“Hajimemashite Saito-san. I am Harada Sanosuke and this is Todo Heisuke.” he said while pointing to his neighbor.

“Hajimemashite!” the latter exclaimed.

Saito slightly bowed to both of them while answering in the same manner. He felt a certain curiosity coming from both men but none as potent as the one of the green-eyed instructor.

“Sano-kun are Toshi or Isami around?” Inoue asked.

“No, they are out on business and Sannan-san is with them. Considering the hour I doubt they will be back before tomorrow, probably enjoying the pleasure of a night out.” Harada added with a grin.

Inoue sighed before turning toward Saito.

“I am sorry Saito-kun, I thought you could meet and discuss with them today. Would you mind coming back tomorrow?”

“I don’t mind Inoue-san,” Saito turned toward Harada and Todo. “It was nice meeting you two.”

“Same,” the red-haired warrior simply answered.

His guide started to walk back toward the entrance and Saito followed. As long as he was in view of the training room he could feel the green eyes of the instructor on him, unyielding.

* * *

“What was that about this afternoon?” Shinpachi asked while entering to join them for dinner.

This made Souji focus. Finally, a conversation that might be more interesting than Heisuke complaining about his seasoning. The Shieikan dojo did receive unannounced visitors from time to time but they were rarely coming with good intentions. Having an unknown left-handed warrior walking in the compound was probably bad news for Kondo. What was Gen thinking showing him around?

“No idea,” Sanosuke answered while moving to the right to leave some room for Shinpachi to seat. “I wanted to ask Gen-san but he apparently left to run some errands just after escorting our ‘guest’ out. He hasn’t come back, so I guess he joined Kondo-san and the others.”

“Come on! You talked to them, you know at least more than Souji and I do.”

Sanosuke’s eyes went to Souji who nodded his support to Shinpachi. The more they knew the better. If people thought they could just scout Kondo’s dojo before making trouble they were gravely mistaken. Sanosuke sighed:

“He wasn’t much of a talker, we introduced each other that’s all.”

“That’s an understatement,” Heisuke intervened. “The guy was gloomy!”

“You might want to take a page from his book. I doubt he was much older than you and yet he had so much more gravity,” Sanosuke added with a smile.

They were getting distracted. Who cared about the gravity of the man? It was just another way to add to his humorless demeanor. Souji couldn’t care less about that.

“And was our dark and not-so-tall stranger’s name?” he asked while putting his chopstick down.

“Saito.”

Souji snorted. So, mister mysterious was indeed surrounded by secrecy. Did he think anonymity would protect him from retribution? That was an issue though. It would be complicated getting info on him with just his name.

“That’s extremely convenient,” he finally commented.

“Is it?” Heisuke asked. “How many left-handed Saito could be running around Edo?”

“Are you serious? Do you realize how many people have this name? I know at least three left-handed Saito. One of them is working in tea shop. She is taller than you shrimp.”

Heisuke tried to send his elbow into Sanosuke’s side for that. The red-haired man only had to move a little to dodge it. They kept fighting even as Shinpachi said under his breath:

“That’s odd.”

Souji’s attention was entirely on him now. Shinpachi looked absorbed in his thoughts. While noisy the man had a head for politics that sometimes lead him into long and apparently captivating conversations with Kondo. Souji never took part in them but he stayed around. Currently Shinpachi had the same look on his face that when I was about to make some decisive point. Unfortunately for Souji he was staring to get pulled into Heisuke and Sanosuke’s oral jab.

“Keep talking Shinpachi-san.”

His three companions went silent. Their eyes were on him. They were uneasy. People, expect Kondo, sometimes looked at him like that. Sometimes he knew why sometimes he didn’t. His voice tone was probably off. In any case that served him well.

“It is nothing Souji, don’t worry.”

Ah, Shinpachi was already recovering from whatever he had felt. Usual. Souji had to act quickly because if Shinpachi decided to ignore him no matter what he would then do, even more deliberate things, it would just slip on the man. But before he could add anything it was Sanosuke who surprisingly came to his help:

“Just tell him. He has the look on his face that says that he won’t leave us alone until he knows whatever he thinks you are hiding. He is going to be an ass all evening.”

Well he didn’t exactly like the formulation, and he had to fight back the urge of retorting something - he didn’t know what but something - but it worked.

“It is just that it reminded me of something. One or two years ago two idiot kids ended up dueling each other. One of them was a Hatamoto’s son and the other one the son of a lowly samurai. Surprisingly it was the Hatamoto’s son who was killed. Long story short it was quite a scandal and the lowly samurai son was forced to flee Edo.”

“And?” Souji asked.

“I think the kid was left-handed.”

Souji found nothing to say to that, nor was Shinpachi ready to tell him more. Slowly the evening meal went back to its normal rhythm. While the chatter grew around him, Souji considered what he just learned. It didn’t mean that mystery man was the lowly samurai son of course. It was probably just a coincidence. And even if it wasn’t, having killed someone wouldn’t give his adversary an edge on him.

He forced his hands to open. At some point they had contracted on his hakama. No, whoever this man was, whatever he had done, it wouldn’t change a thing.

* * *

Saito came back. This time no-one was there to welcome him. He had hesitated at the gate. Wandering alone, and armed, in a dojo was a bad idea. Especially considering that he didn’t come to make enemies. Still he had been told to return today, so he entered.

He was able to come right to the middle of the Shieikan, where he had witnessed the training session the day before. Today the shoji were closed and it felt as if he had failed something. The cicadas were singing again making the day look like a distorted repeat of his first visit. He didn’t particularly like hot weather, but he usually endured it without a complaint. Right now, it was more suffocating than ever. He would have been lying if he said that at this moment he didn’t consider turning back, yet he called out:

“Pardon me, is anyone in?”

There was a movement on his right. The four men he had noticed in the training room yesterday were standing in the shadow of an engawa. The green eyes were once again fixed on him.

“Who is it?” the instructor asked looking like he had very much been waiting for him. “Did he come to challenge our school?”

Saito was expecting that. There was apparently no-one else around despite Inoue’s word. Probably they had made their decision before he came back and let their best students handle him. He saw no point in correcting their wrong assumption. The man was spoiling for a fight. The three others weren’t as antagonistic, but they didn’t look ready to stop their peer either. Well he was used to that. He could give the man what he was looking for.

Facing his silence, the green-eyed instructor joined him. His mouth was smiling but his eyes weren’t, and his informality had an edge to it.

“Follow-me.”

He went into the training room with him, the three other men following behind. Today the room was mainly closed which gave it a stifling atmosphere. His interlocutor gave him a bokken and they faced each other. The green-eyed man was still smiling when he started speaking again with faked candor in his voice:

“I still haven’t asked for your name yet, haven’t I? I guess I might as well ask while you can still talk.”

“Saito Hajime,” he simply answered unfazed by the bravado of his adversary.

“Saito-kun, ne? I am Okita Souji, nice to meet you.”

His surprise and his politeness were feigned but his confidence wasn’t. Saito assured his grip on the bokken.

“Shinpachi-san, could you act as our referee?” Okita suddenly asked to the other instructor.

“Sure,” he answered with a bit of hesitation.

The man took his place before turning toward Saito, much to his surprise:

“Hey, are going to be okay? Souji’s the star student of our dojo.”

“There is no need for concern,” Saito answered and he took his stand.

Okita’s smile grew wider and he joined Saito. There was a short moment in which their bokken touched and they were only facing each other. Both of them were intensely focused and Saito had no trouble believing what Shinpachi had said.

“Hajime!”

Saito kept his stance as it was but Okita changed his guard calmly, bringing his bokken behind him. Fine he would engage.

He went toward Okita at full speed aiming for his head. His adversary seemed surprised for a split-second but managed to dodge. Saito carried on with multiple thrusts, nearly landing a blow several times. Still he didn’t manage to actually make a hit. Okita finally warded his attack off and Saito was forced to draw back.

That was unexpected but not as much as the nearly immediate counterattack he barely managed to fend off. He was good. Very good. Saito hadn’t had an adversary like that in ages, forcing him on the defensive. He took a vicious blow on his left side, several inches under the heart. It should have taken his breath away, but he gritted his teeth and put all his weight in a counter blow that allowed him to regain some edge.

The referee had screamed something that Saito barely registered. He had to focus on his adversary, thankfully Okita seemed in the same mindset. They traded several other blows, perfectly countering each other none of them managing to gain the upper hand.

At some point they came to a halt, if one could call it that. Their bokken were pushing against each other and both of them were putting as much of their weight in their confrontation as they could without risking unbalance. Okita was panting as much as him but he still surprisingly managed to speak:

“You are stronger than I expected. No one’s been able to dodge my thrusts before.”

“You are the first person I fail to defeat in my first move.”

Okita smiled more earnestly this time, a bizarrely gratifying sight. Unfortunately for Saito his adversary was considerably taller than him and his superior size ultimately gave him the advantage in their current confrontation. He was once again thrown a few steps backward and they started giving and repelling blows. Someone else was screaming now. Saito didn’t recognize the voice and had no time to try to.

Suddenly Shinpachi and Todo were on Okita. Saito barely managed to take a step back in surprise before Harada caught his right arm. It took an enormous effort from Saito to break his fight like that, but he recognized an immediate request to stop when he saw one. He went still trying to find his breath back. In front of him Okita was struggling against the two men who had more or less physically restrained him. His eyes were still fixed on Saito.

Now that he was a bit more able to take his surroundings in Saito noticed that two men had arrived, one of them looking quite angered by what he saw but it was the other one who spoke:

“You were quite impressive!”

The compliment surprised him. He wasn’t used to this. He took two more breaths in before messily answering with a question:

“I fight using a left-handed stance, does that not bother you?”

His interlocutor seemed surprise, as if he hadn’t even noticed it. It was the other man, the one with the long black hair, who reacted. Somehow his comment seemed to have made him angrier but strangely not at Saito:

“Whether you use a right-handed stance or a left-handed stance, it doesn’t change the fact that you are strong.”

Saito was struck dumb. He had never expected that, maybe a grudging welcome, but certainly not at total acknowledgement. The men were talking in front of him. He had to focus to listen to them.

“He is the boy Gen-san told us about. I wanted to test him, but I think this won’t be necessary, don’t you think Toshi?”

“Indeed, I don’t think it will be necessary Kondo-san,” the man with the long hair answered with a smile on his face.

Kondo-san? So this man was the head of the Shieikan dojo. Saito knew he was supposed to bow to him but somehow he did not manage to. His attention was fixed on the man with the long ponytail.

“So, would you follow us uhm?” Kondo asked.

It took Saito a minute to realize that the man was talking to him. He was supposed to introduce himself. By the time he had actually intellectualized this Okita was answering for him:

“This is Saito Hajime-kun.”

“Would you follow us Hajime-kun? We have things to discuss.”

Kondo and the other man started to lead the way out of the training room. He wanted to follow. He wanted it so bad he might have never wanted something as badly in his entire life. But he couldn’t. Maybe if he started moving again all of this would disappear. He would again be the left-handed warrior no-one wanted to be associated with no matter what.

Someone gave him a friendly slap in the back. He was forced to take a step forward not to fall.

“Welcome Hajime-kun, I am looking forward to sparring with you again,” Okita said with a wicked grin while going after Kondo and the other man.

Everything was still here. The training room, his uneven breathing from the impromptu duel, Harada, Shinpachi and Todo next to him, Okita, Kondo and the black-haired man in front of him. The welcome was new. It was a good change.

#saitofest #hakuouki #hakuoki #saito hajime #okita souji #and a lot others #and yes it is canon compliant #just because you have suspicions that your best friend has already killed someone doesn't mean that you know for sure

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rhotanored · 4 years

Text

A Deal

Who: A’mariss Renahg (mentions of Nazyl Tharazyl, Tynos Riller) Where: Ambiguous Ul’dahn dwelling (?) When: Several moons earlier... What: On what she assumes will be just another hunting gig, A’mariss runs afoul of some demons; new and familiar...? Why: RP shenanigans resulted in some characters being separated for an extended period of time almost immediately after some Heavy Shit, and I’ve been wanting to write some bits and pieces of Meanwhile... (and also lay some plot hooks for an eventual arc). Warnings: Some creepiness, a wee bit of implied body horror, some violence, angsty introspection.

A'mariss was beginning to wonder if a large part of the blame for the proliferation of Voidsent shouldn't fall on the shoulders of those foolhardy enough to summon them for--of all things--entertainment. This was not the first time in the first few moons following her impromptu position as the only active hunter at Heaven Can Wait that she'd found herself in the extravagant foyer of one of the well-to-do under the pretense they'd found themselves with a certain-kind-of-mess that required her very specific skill-set.

Or Nazyl's, she thought (and not without a grimace that belied yet how fresh the wound of his absence is, though it's swiftly masked), but she can no longer deny that word of mouth concerning her own successful hunts had been making the rounds, much to her chagrin. Still, that she had been asked for by name had come as a surprise, and she wasn't certain it was a welcome one. While it was true she'd undertaken the hunt of Voidsent as a way to find purpose again (in brief; there was a tangled, complicated knot of feelings tied up in her motivations), she wasn't sure she wanted the particular kind of infamy that came along with supposed-expertise in the field.

Exhaling quietly into the empty hall, A'mariss decided that was quite enough introspection. She'd been kept waiting for nearly half a bell, with nary a sign of life following the singular attendant that had seen her in; a steely-eyed Lalafell of little patience and fewer words, particularly after she'd announced the reason for her visit. A gently folded missive was still clutched in one hand, which she'd used as proof of intent, and her pallid green gaze lowered to the broken signet that had served to seal the letter in wax; an iron trellis overgrown by thorny vines.

It was not unlike the one she’d passed under on her way through the front gates; she’d been rather taken aback to see such an attempt at greenery cultivated within Ul’dah--attempt, she’d thought, as it had been rather unsuccessful. The garden, while designed with all manner of intricate stonework, full plant beds, and what may have been a try at topiary art were all either dead or dying. The fountain that stood as a centerpiece in copper was green and black, weathered with age and abraded from the desert storms that inevitably blew sandy detritus into the city proper, regardless of how well its denizens attempted to sweep.

Dark sand had gathered in every unattended corner and filled every crack in the grimy cobblestones that laid the path towards the manor, and A’mariss had felt a chill crawl down her spine as she’d waited on the doorstep, shrouded in the shadow of the house darker than what she would have expected from that time of day.

She shook her head briefly, frowning as she likewise shook off her reflections of what had brought her to this manse with another glance at the missive in her hand.

To My Most Esteemed Huntress, the letter began in a thick, practiced script.

While under normal circumstances, were I you receiving such a letter, would I find myself most unimpressed by a request such as mine being made only by missive. Nevertheless, I must needs extend to you an invitation to join me at my estate. Directions have been provided to your Namazu attendant under the strictest of confidence.

Pray understand I desire nothing more than to explain all the sordid details of my predicament, but it must be done face to face. Trust that it is explicitly your skills— nay, you, A’mariss, that I have need of.

I await your arrival.

There was a signature beneath the final line, one practiced and as presentably illegible as A’mariss imagined most intricate signatures were--but she hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of the name it represented. True to the details within the missive, however, Gyosho had been given directions--and that was all. The Namazu could hardly recollect who had handed over the missive (one of the tall races, which meant little) where he had retained the instructions perfectly, which A’mariss found increasingly suspect the longer she waited in the gloomy lobby.

Just as she reached the limits of her patience (she’d also begun to reconsider coming at all; reflecting on all that had transpired to bring her here made her acknowledge the niggling uncertainty clawing at the back of her mind) and rose to her feet to make for the heavy wood doors through which she’d entered, she heard a long, low, creaaak towards the other end. Another door--one she hadn’t noticed before and certainly not the same that the Lalafellin attendant had vanished through earlier--swung open. A frown tugged on her lips as her ears flattened against her hair when it appeared, after a long moment of waiting, that there was no one on the other side.

That was when she felt it; the subtle tug of Calling, like something had hooked itself beneath her sternum and began to pull. The strength of it startled her, and the sensation left her breathless. It wasn’t quite the first time she’d felt it since she’d aided the others in their defeat of Gamigin, but every time it had manifested since, it seemed more, somehow. Now, it pulled her straight towards the door that now stood open, and more than that, towards whatever--whoever--lay beyond it.

At first A’mariss resisted, swallowing uncomfortably as her gaze fell on her exit out of the estate, but she felt the scraping within her chest becoming more insistent, causing her to suck in a breath to steel herself, and her hand tightened on the missive under her grasp.

Beneath her grip, the letter--suddenly dry and brittle as though it had aged through the cycles--crumbled to little more than a pile of dust, fluttering in ashy shards of parchment to the carpet at her feet. The two halves of the wax signet bounced off the polished wood floor, each vanishing in wisps of reddish smoke.

Hells, she thought, tearing her gaze from the floor back to where the door stood open, and a more insistent pull clawed across her ribs. She reached an arm back to brush along the haft of the Lanetli Arzu that rested across her shoulder, and while the bow offered no noticeable response, she was comforted by its familiar presence.

Against her better judgment, but unable to deny the Call, A’mariss approached the open door, peering down the long, shadowed corridor beyond. Motes of dust were caught in dull, narrow streams of daylight that squeezed through the tattered remnants of heavy, moldering drapes. The wooden flooring beneath her feet creaked and groaned as she crossed the threshold into the hallway, leaving obvious footsteps through layers of undisturbed dirt and dust that layered over old, ratty carpeting and hardwood both.

She felt distinctly like an intruder, here, despite the apparent invitation. Conveniently, as it was wont to do, the tug behind her sternum had grown still, leaving A’mariss to flounder in determining its true purpose. Each step carried her further into the hallway, passing heavy wooden door after heavy wooden door as she went, each lined with a bizarre array of locks, bolts, chains and knobs randomly placed from top to bottom. She reached for one of the wrought iron handles, but it was unyielding in her grip. She couldn’t even get the door to rattle against its frame.

A thunderous--BANG!--from behind her made her yelp, the strangled sound the only thing that made its way out of her throat where her heart had leapt. The door she’d come through had apparently slammed behind her, manhandled by some unseen force--and something skittered into the shadows at the edges of her periphery. She whirled to track it, but other than the soft motes of dust dancing in lazy circles between shards of muted daylight, she saw no movement from one end of the hall to the murky shadows at the other.

“Show yourself!” She demanded, her voice carrying the weight of her command without an onze of the fear that fluttered in her breast, and a flicker of pride momentarily outweighed it. This was nothing she hadn’t faced before. Gamigin had thrown at her the worst horrors of her life--so far, her thoughts whispered--and she would stand and face whatever haunted this particular manor. Nothing answered her, however, save her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and an oppressive silence. Though there were windows, no sound from the streets presumably beyond reached her, here.

Having held her breath and strained to make out any additional noise to no avail, A’mariss exhaled slowly, her gaze trailing down into the deeper gloom at the opposite end of the hallway where she thought she’d seen that shadowy apparition vanish. With the way back now closed (and her with no desire to confirm her suspicions that she’d been trapped, if only for the sake of her nerves), she began to make her way in the only directly left to her.

The source of the additional shadows, she discovered, were far more mundane than she’d anticipated; a heavy, velvet drapery hung across the open threshold. Pieces of the fabric crumbled under her touch as she tried to brush it aside, and a heavy chunk simply collapsed at her feet into a plume of moldy spores and dust. She reeled back, one hand clasping over her mouth and nose in an effort to spare her lungs the threat, but she’d already inhaled a cloying breath in her surprise. She coughed, wrinkling her nose as she stepped over the fallen curtain and used her other hand to brush aside some low-hanging cobwebs, only to stop abruptly as she nearly bumped straight into the Lalafellin butler that had left her in the lobby earlier.

...Only now, he wore a horrifyingly familiar jester’s get-up.

Then, in an erratic flicker, he was gone. If the apparition hadn’t been enough to make her heart leap back into her throat, the sudden raucous cacophony of a discordant organ being played jubilantly from the stage at the far end of the room was. It was also enough to make her anger overtake her fear.

Finally, her hands flew back to draw her bow and nock one of her arrows in a single fluid motion, letting fly one in a streak of brilliance towards the noise; the pipes she struck jangled in a final, agonizing note as a jagged screech of laughter echoed through the room. Her ears swiveled and flicked to-and-fro in an attempt to track it, though she had an inkling it was fruitless; mundane senses would not avail her here.

“Show yourself!” She demanded for the second time this evening, and the laughter quieted into a thoughtful hum.

The dim, natural light across the open, dilapidated ballroom (heavily curtained with ratty drapes and alight with dusty motes much like the hallway that had led here) darkened with shadows encroaching from every corner of the room, growing like a heavy fog. All at once the room brightened suddenly, as several massive chandeliers dangling from the ceiling ignited with purple flames--and abruptly extinguished, plunging the room into full, absolute pitch.

But not before the afterimage of a rotting white mask had teased across her vision.

Baring her teeth, A’mariss drew back the Lanetli Arzu and conjured another of her radiant arrows, which only served to illuminate her; it was as though she stood in a black void, without form or direction. She could feel the cracked marble tile of the ballroom’s flooring beneath her feet, however, so she knew she hadn’t been moved anywhere. Unless the illusion was far more elaborate than she thought, at any rate.

“Enough! Gamigin is destroyed, by mine hand and others’. His false visage holds no power over me now, just as it held no power over me when we slew him,” she growls, steeling herself with the memory of Yuyuta’s incinerating blow.

“So confident,” a voice whispers at her ear, and she whirls in that direction, pointing her bow into the unchanging blackness.

“Ş̷͍̲̻̒̂ó̵͖͓̉̏ certain,̸̫͋̌̈͝ͅ” it says again, from over her other shoulder, and her reflexes fire her nocked arrow. It cuts through the darkness, revealing a sliver of the ballroom beyond before the shadows swallow it again.

“S̸̛̈́̌̃͊̀̔͘õ̷̸̝̭̍̒̏̔̓̈́̇̕ un̶͚͗̑̿a̶͚̘̬̠̎̒̀͒͆͐͂̀̋sh̸̲̤͉̭̼͉̗̿́̎́̇͑̓̀̿͘͜ͅa̸̠̠͙͋͌͌̏͆̄͑̃̔͗͘m̵̠͉͍͛͑͊͛͑̎̀͑͐͠ë̴̫͎̫͓͝ď̵́̓̒̃͛͘͠,” and this time she senses it behind her, a trill of shivers running straight down her spine, every hair standing up at the back of her neck. Hastily, her free hand makes the motion of a spell, her claws igniting with the same radiance as her earlier arrow as she spins to rake the Voidsent behind her.

Her wrist is caught in a vice-like grip, halted ilms away from the lined fabric of an expensive suit-coat--or what might have passed for one, were the material not sour-smelling and rotted like the rest of the contents of the estate.

“A̵̧̡̳̒̀nd̸̗́̿̅ ̸͍͓̦̥̎̿̀͛s̸͈͎̞͒ö̴͔̻̟́ͅ ̷̰̿̐͝q̸̧̻̺̪̊̉̽́uĩ̷͕͎͑͠c̷̝̠͚̐͋͑͘k ̶̡̤̖̭̾̐̓t̷̜̏ǫ̶̺̤̦̊ ̶̡̯͓̭̈v̵̨̈ì̷͔̣̼̔͐ol̵͖͗̚͠en̵̩͌c̷̡̪̗̖͆͆̑e,̷̨̻̠̉,” the voice purrs, and she realises the curious double-intonation she’d been hearing comes from two mouths speaking in tandem; one where a mouth should be and the other a shark-toothed maw splitting the underside of an ashen, Elezen jawline. A’mariss struggled to wrench her arm free from the creature who had her in its grip, but a resounding--crash!!--behind her makes her jump, whirling as--crash!!--one-by-one the four--crash!!--chandeliers she’d seen earlier fall to the--crash!!--ballroom floor. They scatter shards of glass, gold candelabra and purple-lit candles (half extinguished in the fall) all across the room, dispelling the immediate darkness in favor of eerily dancing, flickering shadows.

A’mariss tugged her arm yet again with a growing sense of urgency (not that her heart wasn’t already thundering while her every instinct screamed at her to run), and if the second mouth grinning toothily at her hadn’t been enough of an indication, a perfectly beaked nose was the last (and perhaps only) remaining feature that was remotely Elezen. The Voidsent had no eyes to speak of; instead twisting, spiraling black branches seemed to extend from where his cheekbones ought to have begun, reaching randomly and ceaselessly toward the ceiling, though where the branches ended and their shadows stretched out, A’mariss was hard-pressed to tell.

“N̷̜̏̈́̉͘ow̵̧̤̯̃̆̓,̶̳̬͙̍́ ̵̪̾̔̓̄͜ǹ̸̢̨̲̩́͐ò̸͕̜͉̘͗́͗w,̵̲̽̄͐̅ ̵͕̜̪͍͒͂́no̵̟͂͝ͅẅ̶̝́͆̈́,̶̢̩̅̌̎̍” the Voidsent said, finally releasing her arm as it took a step forward and she, a step back towards the purple fire, which was quickly spreading, consuming the draperies as it went.

“There are much better ways for us to parley. We only thought to celebrate your victory over ol’Gamigin,” the top mouth speaks on its own, drawing A’mariss’s gaze away from the fire.

“T̸͖̖̳͒͜hou̴̗̮̝͖͑͑̌gȟ̴̞͎̝̺ ̴��͓̗̓͛i̴̘̊̿t ̵̙̩̅͜dep̸̞̀͛̂͜͜r̸͔̠͛̉̽iv̵̮̼͎̻̔͂ed̷̲͌̓̈́͘ ̸̛̩̊̐̒us̶͍̰̯̼̑̈́ ̵͕̾ȯ̸͇͒f ̶̠͠a̵̖̪͠ ̷͓̺̻͖̉̇̎me̷̫̰̞̍a̶̢̗̺̓l,̴̯̠̆̓” the second maw continues, “iṱ̴͉̍́̕͜ ̵̩̮̙͓̈́̋̚͠g̵̗͖͊̑͝ave ̷̣̤͌̐̽͜us̸̢̓̓͘ ̶̝͇̒s̴̞̗̖̈́͗o̴mȩ̸͔̤͉͊̊͗͘t̷̛̞̮̟́̚͜hi̵͑͜͠͝ņ̸̿̅͠g̴͖̜̾͛̋̎ ̵̥͔̓͝b̵̛̰̻͒̎et̸̛̖̑̓͂te̸̢͆r.”

A’mariss’s tail falls limp behind her, the lion’s tip tufted up and flicking in agitation behind her. She didn’t like where this was going. The Voidsent “watched” her intently, leaning inwards, as though waiting for her to prompt it to explain; eventually, its head tweaked unsettlingly left, and its mouths made a little tsking noise.

“You, of course. A’mariss. A’mariss. Ă̶̝̤͆͝ ̵̮̺͋̆̍̔̾̒’̷͚͐́́͂͆ ̶̙͙̞͝m ̴̨̛͈̌͆̑̇̉̀̚a̸͎͐͗ ̵͔̅͗̄͑̍͝r̸̉͆̂̀ ̵̧̣̳̱̬́ì̷̡̠̻̩̉͋̌͊͋̀́ ̷͈̭͐̅͝s ̴̗͍̈́̎͝͠s̷̛͉͖̈́̔͂̋̈́̂.” Every hair on her body stood seemingly on-end as it intoned her name, almost like a chant. It leaned towards her once again and she took another step back, only for the Voidsent to flicker erratically and vanish from view. She whirled, smoke from the flames now wreathing the entire room, and at the center behind her waited the Voidsent, one black hand extended towards her.

W̵͈͊ė̸͔͍'̶͍̃r̴̫͎͕̣̒ę̵̺̹͙̐̈́ ̸̣̚b̴͚̑͠ou̸͙͍͖̽̂̆͠n̶̡͍̳̏̈́d,

W̸̢̧͖̠̞͇̗̟̲͕̤̪̦̜̙̙̘̜͈̳̦̰̲̣̉̔͗͆̔̽̏͛̓͗͒͗̍͌̽͘͝ẻ̵͔̻̩̳͖͙̈́͑̾̿̋͝͝'̶̨̡̡̧̛̛̯̻̞͓͍̘̱̲͇̻̼̳̘̮̞̜̭̦̱͕̝͙̤͓̙̓̈̾͌̈́͆͗̀͒̐́̕͝ͅre̷̢̧̬̯͚̪̝̥̮͙̹̲̤͙̠̦̭͚͔͈̮͐̔͋͑͌̍̎̄͐̚̚͝͝ ̶͍͖̽̉̋͆̇́̆̉̇̀̌̓̕̚ĭ̵̢̺͚̥̙̥̞͔̠̔̈̾̓͂͋̒̇̐̓̇̓̍̂͌̓͑̒̾̋̍͘͘͘̚̕͘͜͝ͅne̶̛͑͐͂́̍̒́̑͗̊͆rt, Ẅ̴̠́ê̷̻'̷̬͌r̶e ̶͎͠h̶̬͋a̶͝rm̷͇̃le̴̢̔ș̵̌s̶̝̓,

W̵̡̠̦̹͖͘e'̴̗̻̰̈́̚̚̚͝͝ŕ̷̘͕̈́̂͂̀͠e̷̟̟͈̩̦̽̉͜ ̴̜̦̲͆t̴̡́͌́̇̈́r̸̙͛̿͑ap̵̛͙͙͑̽̾p̸̻̳̼͒͘ͅed̸̙͛,

Wḙ̸͍̦̩͕͚͍̣̪̝͚̰̘̳̖̻̞̆'̷̝͊̄̇́̈́͋͛͆̇̿́̊̈̈͊̑̿́̿̉̀͝re ̴̨̢͚̪͇͓͐̄͌̒̋̌̔̓̃̚H̸͎̠́͛̐͊̐̄͒̈́̀̽͂̒́̅̏͌͊͒̕͘͘U̴̡͎̮̬͍͓͉̝͕͊͒͛͒̔͗̊̓̈́͌̍̒̍̚NGR̴̨̨̠͙̤̠̼͔͉̬̬̦̼̲͉͉̬̀̊̿̉̀̐͋̚͜ͅY̷̢̨̡̳̻͔̻̖͕͙̙̙̪̞͑̀̈͊̆͌͗͝͝ͅͅ!

...we are so very, very hungry.”

A’mariss’s jaw fell partially agape; she could feel the yearning in every word, freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom pounding in her skull like an incessant ringing, and the pull within her chest returned with a sudden vengeance. The creature’s outstretched hand was like a rod, and she the helpless fish hooked on its line as it slowly reeled her in. Her bow clattered to the ground like an afterthought as the creature arranged the hand that had been holding it against its shoulder, and held the other firmly as it took her by the waist and began to dance them through the smoldering ballroom.

“We want to make a deal, A’mariss,” she jerked; those words meant something, but--the room spun and she spun with it, as its voice cooed soothingly into her ear.

“No, no. Do not misunderstand us, my dear. We would serve you. Willingly,” it paused, its lips pressed against her ear; there was no maw filled with teeth in her periphery, just an ashen throat, bared almost in submission.

“Loyally,” it purred, “and we would never forget you.”

“You could save us.” Could she? It seemed like they had stopped spinning, but A’mariss’s vision was still churning. She closed her eyes against the flickering shadows and growing flames, tucking her cheek against the creature’s striped suit; why had she thought he smelled sour? It was all warmth as she breathed him in, like cloves and allspice and the heady musk from a Bloodglider’s wing.

“Change us.” Like Bloodgliders.

“Free us.” Like home.

A’mariss’s eyes snapped open as she wrenched herself free from the Voidsent’s grasp, stumbling to her hands and knees as the last vestiges of the enthrallment released her, awareness returning with an almost painful clarity. She found herself coughing; the room was almost wholly engulfed in flame, a small ring around the pair the only area untouched. Flames had consumed all the drapes and were making quick work of the ceiling as they rolled along it in waves. On the other side of the room, a support beam collapsed in a shower of pink sparks.

“No.” A’mariss croaked, and as she reached out, her hand closed around the haft of the Lanetli Arzu as though it had never left her in the first place.

The Voidsent roared; something inarticulate with rage. As she was staggering to her feet, the creature’s arm--or black, glittering branches?--lashed out to close around her throat, lifting her clean off the floor.

“N̘͈̼͕͈̥͉͔̾͢O̬̳͉̙̬̓͐ͣ̊̒?̠͉͂ͫͤ͡ IIt boomed, its maw opening wide.

“Ņ̢̰̗̤ͣ̃̽͌͛ͦ̉͂̓̾̚̚O̢̨̤̥͔͆ͧ́ͩͥ̑̀͐̑ͪ́͑͟? ͨ͗ͮ̿̔NƠ̆ͦ͗ͮ҉̷̡̛̗̟͚?̯͒ͪ̂̑͐̓͂̅ͣ̊͜ ͍̜̫̊̎͆́̇̍ͬ͜Ň̬̗͌͋̌̀͝O?̹̰̙̦̗̜͙̑̾̍͌͞͡͞͠͞ͅ” It repeated over, and over, and over again, breathing hot, rank breath from its split maw directly into her face. She nearly gagged, but it held her throat tight enough that she could no more gag than she could breathe. Tears streamed from her eyes, her free hand grappling and tearing at the branch that held her to no avail; for every layer of supple, black bark that came away beneath her claws, there only seemed more.

The Lanetli Arzu vibrated so strongly in her grasp that it was all she could do to hold onto it; she could feel herself fading as the Voidsent continued to roar, and the flames seemed to join it. Distantly, she could feel herself raking her claws across her own knuckles until the blood ran against the haft of her bow; aether surged from her and into the weapon, and the heat that shot up her arm was almost more searing than the choking heat of the room. Brilliant, blinding white light ignited behind the creature that had grabbed her; she could no longer discern its true shape beyond the shadows and endless grasping black branches, but a myriad of radiant arrows burst through its center mass and tore through the arms that were holding her.

A’mariss landed hard, wheezing, and felt an oily lump pressed against her windpipe. Try as she might, swallowing did nothing to shake the sensation and only left her near-to choking. She slid back across the floor as the violet flames began to catch on the branches of the Voidsent. It still roared wordlessly at her, limbs flailing as it struggled to tear free of the brilliant arrows that had partially pinned it in place; they would not hold it forever. Somehow, she drew in enough of a breath to force herself to her feet. She leaped through the shallow wall of violet flame, hardly even feeling the heat as she raced wildly back the way she’d come.

All the doors were open, now; the one that had blocked her path at the end of the hallway had collapsed outwards. She could feel the heat at her back as she stumbled into the foyer, forced her weak knees to keep going as she burst through the front door, leaped down the steps, and raced beyond the black iron trellis that had welcomed her so ominously earlier. Only once she was in the cobbled street did she turn to look back where she had fled; there was no sign of Voidsent, nor fire, nor the shadows she had been fleeing. There was only a terrifying emptiness, a sense of nothing that remained, like the hollow feeling of a thread snapping where she hadn’t realized one had been.

Trembling, she turned her gaze down to the bow in her hand. It looked no worse for wear, though it seemed to hum with a note of desperation. Her other hand rose to her throat, feeling the lump--several lumps--pressed just beneath the skin. Panic gripped her as she felt one of them give a gentle twitch beneath her fingers. Her mind raced to find someone, anyone she could go to; she bowed over her knees in an attempt to slow her breathing, feeling (not for the first time) the loss of Nazyl most keenly. He would have known what to do.

Bereft of other options, one other name rose to mind, and he was nearby. Tynos. If there was anyone else who could help her before it was too late--it was him. She looped the Lanetli Arzu over her shoulder, and began to walk, pausing near a street sign to get her bearing. If her panic-stricken memory was right, it was only a short walk towards the Goblet--and hopefully her salvation.

...Then she could attempt to process all that she’d just encountered.

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #balmung #a'mariss renahg #a'mariss insp #;writing

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