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moonchildsaurora · 4 years

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Before the sun is rising up

✤ knight!Jongho x knight!reader ✤ genre: royal AU // angst, fluff (if you squint) ✤ t/w: sfw, non-descriptive battle fight, sad reacts only, rated PG ✤ count: 1.6k ✤ [ part 1 ] of Lacuna miniseries

a/n - o m f g it’s finally done. . .well overdue one shot for our precious maknae & the 1st of 8 parts for my new miniseries! Here I was thinking that it’ll be a more condensed piece, but yet again my mind decided to be loud. Perhaps I’ll be able to reign it in a bit more with the others (who am I kidding really tho). I hope I wrote well enough for Jongho’s character, even though it still feels slightly rushed. Thanks to @a-tiny-8iny for insightful convos which gave me the idea of considering the focus around platonic bonds too (which honestly gave me a plotline I was much happier with)! Also @hereisleo @monbae @s1ardusk @barsformars I remember yelling bout this series idea to you guys ages ago and here we are 💙

It was rare for a champion knight to be able to bask in serenity, especially on the eve of the final battle. The kingdoms of Rivaria and Nethilor have long been at war with one another, what once was a united empire now torn apart from betrayal and greed. There simply wasn’t room for two powers to rule, and so by the time the sun rises tomorrow, only one will be left standing triumphantly. How twisted fate must be, to have childhood friends who had endlessly supported one another since their gruelling training days when they were mere squires only to end up serving royalties of opposite sides.

The cooling night breeze played around with your hair as your legs dangled freely over the cliff’s edge where you sat waiting patiently for him. You leaned back on your arms, hands gently curling into the slightly damp but still soft grass and face tilted up towards the star-lit skies. The moon was out in full tonight, somehow knowing it may be the very last time it could greet you.

Your ears managed to pick up the familiar sound of steady footsteps from behind, without turning around and a grin already forming on your lips.

“And here I thought you’d best me in arriving first for once, Sir Choi” you said, trying to hold back a chuckle.

The sound of metal clinking against another indicated that he had let his sword, Shadowmist, rest against the tree next to your Windsong. Forged by the same swordsmith, intended to be wield together as a complementary pair.

“My deepest apologies, had to use the good ol’ distraction to sneak past the night guards of my own camp.”

“How rebellious of you.”

Jongho gave a playful shove to your shoulder as he sat down next to you, an immediate comforting warmth radiated off him. You noticed that he was in his casual tunic, the soft linen matching your own one. It’s almost a foreign sight to you considering how used you are seeing one another in the heavy metal of armour rather than something more care-free.

Just as you were about to ask how long he had before his troops would start noticing their own commander’s absence, a bundle was unceremoniously dropped on your lap.

“And pray tell, what is this?”

Your fingers fiddled with the thin leather cord that wrapped around the cloth, managing to unwrap the cover and your eyes crinkled with glee immediately upon seeing the contents inside.

“I made my squire swear not to tell the others that I was stealing extras for my supposed woodland friends,” a dramatic sigh escaped Jongho.

That caused you to burst out laughing, “You mean to say that the great leader of the Nethilorian army secretly befriends little creatures?”

“I always did say that your resemblance to that of a raccoon is uncanny.”

Now it was your turn to shove him, though you had to admit that his cover-up reasons were ridiculously endearing. “I wonder how your squire puts up with you at times, must be confusing for the poor lad.”

“What will it take for you to express your gratitude without mocking my pride?”

“Fortunately for you, I may be more inclined to accept certain incentives at times…” and picking up a Goldhorn biscuit, you held it towards Jongho, “Truce?”

Instead of taking the biscuit with his fingers he proceeded to bite down lightly, stealing it right out of your hold.

“You fiend!”

“Now we can have a truce.”

You purposely wiped your fingers on his tunic, earning a protest from him before tasting one of the sweet treats for yourself. These were the biscuits that you and Jongho used to eat regularly as children, the same honeyed taste bringing back fond memories. A fleeting image of your parents and home came to mind, the echoes of childish laughter and, “Watch where you’re running you two little rascals!”

“Remember that time you chased me with your mother’s rolling pin and it got us in so much trouble?”

You turned to look at Jongho, still to this day you haven’t quite figured out how he always seem to be on the same wavelength as you. Another biscuit was popped into your mouth before you replied, “Only because you not so accidentally spilled the rest of my potato stew.” That particular memory managed to coax a smile out of you, silently apologising to your parents for being the cause of their grey hairs.

A comfortable silence settled, the little fireflies were coming out to dance and the night breeze was still calm as before. From where the both of you sat on the cliff, the view of the valley was magnificent. It was a pleasant surprise that you discovered this hidden spot during the training camp and it became yours and Jongho’s meeting place ever since.

“I’m going to miss this.”

You could feel your heart clenching at his words, knowing full well what he meant. Setting the food down, you shuffled around a bit so you could retrieve something from your pocket. Dangling the two silver chains right in front of Jongho seem to break him out of whatever nostalgia trance he was in.

He blinked owlishly at the pendants, each holding an athesotile gem. You gave his one over and Jongho observed the iridescent glow it had under the moonlight.

“You sure know how to make a man feel special,” said Jongho as he teasingly held a hand over his heart .

“Had it been a confession token, sure. Unfortunately for you it’s only a lucky charm.”

“Trust you to still believe in that old tale,” he chuckled as he looped the pendant around his neck. This particular gem was sought after in the past for supposedly bringing great luck or so it has been old across generations by your elders. You had found these pendants as you were passing through the major town of Millbelle after a successful patrol.

“I’d trust in anything that will bring us hope at this point.”

The breeze picked up a little bit, rustling the trees around as if it became restless at your words. You really hadn’t mean to dampen the mood but reality was starting to sink heavily on your entire being. Anger and fear both seeped in, for being placed in such a predicament – you didn’t even get to bid your family a proper farewell with how fast war was declared. Your hands gripped the pendant tightly as you forced the choked sobs back down, though the corners of your eyes had tears already gathering.

“I’m terrified Jongho. I don’t want either of us to –“

“Hey now, are you forgetting something?” Even if he holds his gaze so strongly, you could still feel the slight trembles in his hands that interlocked with yours as he spoke.

“What do you mean?”

“You remember when I said I’ll be with you till the end?” His thumb caught a stray tear and wiped it gently from your face, “I intend to follow that through.”

A million and one thoughts ran through your head as you looked at him, endlessly thanking the gods above for blessing you with Choi Jongho. Though death lingered over yourselves, knowing that you wouldn’t have to face it alone eased your soul that little bit more.

With a wet laugh you leaned into his touch, “I won’t hold back if you don’t either.”

Jongho stood up from his previous seating spot, pulling you up with him. You watched as he made his way over to the swords and retrieved them both, quickly using the sleeves of your tunic to dry your eyes before Jongho held Windsong out towards you for the taking.

Tilting your head to the side with a silent question that you only got an answer to after Jongho unsheathed Shadowmist. He directed the blade to be pointing at you, no hostility behind the action, just a determined glint in his dark eyes and a solemn nod of his head.

With the moon as a witness, a final oath was made by the crossing of swords.

The thundering of hooves and roars of the cavalries were enough to shake the land, as the Rivarians fearlessly gave their war cry. The grip on your mount’s reins was painfully tight as you stood observing the enemy ranks across the battle field. Dawn was upon you, the rosy hues of red and orange matched the accents on your silver suit of armour. It was a harsh contrast to the striking black and gold that the Nethilorian army wore.

Another war horn sounded, this time from the other side and your jaw clenched with tension as you watched Jongho lead the charge down the hill.

“Leave the Commander to me, cover the flanks and keep your formations in order,” your voice resonated with finality as you addressed your elite guards.

“Archers! At the ready!”

A wave of a flag with a griffin, your kingdom’s emblem, embroidered on it signalled a rain of arrows to be let loose. You couldn’t tell how long you held your breath for as you watch the arrows land around Jongho’s charging form, his soldiers bringing up their sturdy shields as protection. Relief ran through you as the arrows took out the slower foot soldiers around him instead.

Shadowmist was raised high and proud, equally deafening war cries echoed in multitude getting closer and closer to your side. You drew out Windsong and walked your mount towards the front lines.

“We ride…for honour,” the visor of your helmet was flipped down, “…for the safety of our people….for our lives.” You kicked your mount into a gallop with your riders following your lead, raising their spears and swords.

“FOR RIVARIA!”

Ironically everything seemed to slow down as you faced head on towards Jongho. Even the noise have become muffled, all you could focus on was your breathing within the helmet. Your eyes never wavered from his figure and when his mount stormed faster ahead of the rest, you matched his change in pace as well.

“To thee I swear this oath, only by your blade will…”

As the first ray of light pierced over the horizon, the waking sun was greeted with the resounding clash of two blades; and the mourning for two loyal hearts.

“…we meet once again at the elysian fields, my dearest friend.”

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triscribe · 4 years

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The Eyes of Dragons

I’ve found my myself in a Star Wars fix-it fic mood of late. Please enjoy the result of my morning’s work, with all due credit to the amazing @fialleril for coming up with Amatakka and Tatooine slave culture in the first place.

White dragons.

That was all Atru could think to call them in his mind. Huddled up with Nittu in a makeshift cave of fallen walls, he stared out at the courtyard of the palace, watching with wide eyes. Humanoids in white armor painted with blue or yellow constantly moved past, shooting, shouting, some hurrying in the other direction with wounded slaves held in their arms.

And it was only slaves they carried away - the cooling corpses of masters, overseers, and bodyguards still littered the courtyard. One of them sprawled mere steps away from Atru and Nittu’s hiding place - a scarred old weequay who’d been in the middle of beating them when the first explosions began. His wrinkled face remained stuck in an expression of shock, fingers still grasping at the blaster hole through his chest.

One the one hand, Atru felt a little ill at the sight. On the other...

Bentu Depuraak. The Reckoning of the Masters.

“...know there were a couple kids right around here - has anyone double checked the rubble?”

“Not that I’m aware of, no.”

Two dragons moved nearby. Atru could just see their boots from the cave: white and blue, white and yellow. His breath caught in his throat.

Would they come closer? Would they see him and Nittu? His arms tightened around the smaller boy - it was his job to keep him out of trouble, keep him from getting hurt. Maybe the dragons would leave them alone, but what if they didn’t?

“I’ll check with Ahsoka - if she’s finished clearing out the lower levels with the rest of Torrent, maybe the Force can tell her if anyone’s buried under here.”

“Alright, then we- wait. Vod, look.”

Between one heartbeat and the next, the opening of the little cave became filled by armor. Atru cried out when a hand reached for him, and instantly it flinched away.

“Osi’kyr,” the dragon muttered, pulling back a bit from the entrance. “Easy, little one, it’s okay - we aren’t going to hurt you, the slavers are all gone.”

“Shove up, Cody.” The second dragon crouched beside the first, and pulled off his helmet marked with swooping lines, revealing a human face. “Amavikkan?”

Atru blinked. After a moment, he slowly nodded.

The man in dragon armor grinned. “Ek masa nu Rex, ka. Nuk ek upanda, Cody.”

Glancing between the two of them as the second dragon removed his helmet as well, Atru didn’t doubt they were brothers - they looked just alike. “...ek masa nu Atru Sikataku, ka. Nuk ek upani, Nittu Atruaberatu.”

The man nodded, glancing at the other. “Their names are Atru and Nittu. Check with the medics, see if anyone by the name of Suncaller or Windsong’s been seen to-” Even as he said it, though, Atru started shaking his head.

“Ekte masa ekte.” The man sagged, his eyes softening.

“Saekeppa,” he murmured. I offer my sorrow. “Keekta-du?” When Atru hunched his shoulders, the man sat back on his heels. “They named themselves. Don’t know where they came from - probably sold too young to remember.”

The other man muttered the same strange word as before. Most likely a curse, if his pained expression was anything to go by. “Are they hurt at all? Stuck?”

Atru shook his head. When the man who’d been speaking Amatakka offered a hand, he carefully took it, and let himself and Nittu get gently tugged out into the open air. Armored arms wrapped around his back and under his legs, scooping the boy up. He had to let go of Nittu at that point, as the other man lifted him in the same way. For the first time since being found, the smaller child made a noise, whining softly as he buried his face in the crook of clothed neck and armored shoulder.

The man holding him froze, before cautiously rubbing and hand up and down Nittu’s back.

“He goes to sleep if you scratch his hair,” Atru stated. Both men blinked, before the one holding him barked out a laugh.

“You heard the kid, vod,” he chuckled. “Might make your life easier.” With that, he turned to start walking out of the courtyard, and Atru watched over his shoulder as the other man listened to his advice, black covered fingers combing through Nittu’s tightly coiled locks.

-Dragons-

An hour later, Atru learned where Rex had gotten his Amatakka from.

A tall man dressed in black robes and armor strode into the tent they’d settled in, Atru on Rex’s lap and Nittu still asleep on Cody’s shoulder. The newcomer looked them both over before snorting.

“Now I know what side-tracked you two,” he muttered.

“To be fair, sir, the time had already come for us to get out of the way of Speaker Banai’s relief forces,” Rex replied. “And you’ve said yourself, once the fighting’s done with, our main job becomes reassuring the Amavikkan that they’re safe.”

The man still rolled his eyes, but smiled when he looked down to meet Atru’s curious gaze. “Alright, so who is this little guy, then?”

“Atru Suncaller. Found him and Nittu over there hiding in some rubble from the courtyard’s walls. They don’t seem inclined to trust anyone who can’t speak Amatakka, so Cody and I are keeping an eye on them.” Or at least, Rex was keeping an eye on the other three - two minutes after sitting down with Nittu resting on him, Cody had likewise dozed off. Apparently he didn’t get nearly enough sleep, according to the stories Rex shared with Atru in the time since.

The newcomer seemed to already be aware of that, as he gave Rex a knowing glance before focusing on Atru again. He touched a hand to his lips, then his heart - the traditional greeting between the Mother’s Children. “Ek masa nu Anakin Ekkreth, ka.”

Atrua sat up a little straighter.

“Te akinu ikkeltinan?” He asked. You brought the dragons?

The Rain-Bringer Skywalker smiled, wide and fierce and sharp. “Ek akinu an-umakkar.” I brought the storm.

-Dragons-

Eventually, Rex and Cody needed to return to their work, and Atru found himself left with Nittu in a section of tents given over to the freed slaves. “We’ve got medics with scanners who’re removing the detonation chips,” Anakin explained, kneeling in front of them. “But until yours are out, you can’t risk going beyond the palace transmitter’s range, okay?”

Atru nodded.

“We’ll be around, if you need anything,” Rex added, briefly resting a hand on Atru’s head. “Or you can go to any of our brothers, we’re all here to help.”

Another, slower nod. When the three of them left, he took Nittu’s hand and wandered the tents until they found Eteru. The older girl sat against an empty crate, eyes closed and face turned up towards the sky, her hands lying empty of knitting for possibly the first time in years.

“Is he really one of us?” Atru asked her. “Skywalker? Or is he lukkanal?”

Eteru smiled without opening her eyes. “He wasn’t freeborn, I know that much.”

“How?”

“Said too many things, about adjusting, finding ways to prove to ourselves we’ve become kol-depuan.”

Atru felt a thrill race through his veins at that: kol-depuan. Unfettered, unchained. He’d only heard the term in stories, spoken wistfully by older slaves. “And the dragons? Only one of them knows Amatakka.”

“Only one’s been around Skywalker often enough to learn it,” Etreru replied, sounding unconcerned. “Others know phrases, the important words. They’ll learn more, if some of them really stay to help like they say - or if some of us go with them.”

“Go where?”

Eteru lifted her chin a bit higher. “To the stars, Atru. To fight other Depuran, to free other Amavikkan, to bring about Bentu Depuraak across the Outer Rim.”

Awed, Atru looked upwards as well. In the evening light, he could make out two of the moons, green Tenarakin and blue Enchuni, but no stars, not quite yet. Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it isn’t there, a voice from deep in his memory whispered. Don’t be afraid to believe.

The boys sat there for a long while, until Nittu’s stomach rumbled and he made a quiet whine. Eteru didn’t seem inclined to move any time soon, so they left her be in order to go search for dinner.

-Dragons-

People who weren’t dragons or Amavikkan appeared the next day, with replacement food and water and medical supplies. Atru watched from around a corner as Skywalker kissed a short, dark-haired woman, two babies wrapped in a carrier on her back. A twi’lek girl in a white dress with yellow patterns ran and laughed around the feet of the dragons she matched, and a togruta teenager with blue armor of her own stuck close to Rex at all times.

It was this last person who nearly tripped over Atru at midday, as he crouched in the shade of the tent where Nittu and the rest of the little children were taking their naps. She glanced between him and the tent’s entrance, before smirking. “Don’t wanna sleep with the babies, huh?”

Atru shook his head.

“Come on, I know a better spot to get out of the sun.” Seeing his hesitation, she added, “Ek masu nu Ahsoka Tano, ku.”

Atru squinted at her. “...masa, not masu.”

“Ek masa,” the togruta corrected. “And- you must be Atru, right? I haven’t seen any other wroonians around here.”

“Half,” he said, standing up and accepting her offered hand, blue fingers curling around dusky orange. “My dad was human. I think.”

“Okay. What’s your name mean, if I can ask? There’s a lot of Amatakka I don’t know yet.”

“Atru is One with the Wind,” he answered, walking quickly with her to cross the hot sands. “Sikataku is Suncaller, like our Elder Sister Leia. I picked that one,” he added, “‘Cause I don’t remember what my mom’s was.” And because he’d always wanted to be a dragon, someone brave and unafraid to summon fire.

Ahsoka nodded. “Do you want to try and find her?”

Atru stayed quiet until they reached an actual building, and the door slid open, offering cool relief from the noonday suns. “I think- I think my mom died, and that’s why I was sold, ‘cause the man who owned us didn’t want to buy someone else to look after me.”

“Okay, then. Who looks after you here?”

He shrugged. “Eteru, sometimes. Or Ekriti, if she wasn’t busy. But I’m bigger now, so I gotta help look after Nittu.”

The door slid shut behind them, and as his eyes adjusted, Atru glanced around the small room and its furniture - most of which was occupied.

Rex paused with a blaster half-disassembled on the table in front of him, and two others in white and blue armor glanced over from their padded bench. Introductions got passed around again, and then Atru found himself settled on the floor beside Rex’s feet, Echo and Fives watching him with interest as Ahsoka flopped into a chair of her own.

In the thin layer of sand that covered the ground, Atru absently traced out the swooping lines from Rex’s helmet. “What do these mean?”

The man glanced over, and grinned. “Jaig eyes - jai’galaar are the shriek-hawks of Mandalore. They’re a symbol of battle honor that I earned in my training as a cadet.”

Atru hummed. His finger made another symbol from Rex’s armor - the repeated pattern of four lines with a fifth crossed through them. “And these?”

Gloved hands stilled on blaster components. “Tally marks. Each one represents a vod I lost.”

“Vod?”

“Sibling, in Mando’a. It’s how we address our closest brothers.”

Considering, Atru flicked his eyes towards Echo and Fives, who’d picked up datapads to fiddle with but were obviously listening in. “Are you all upandan, or are there ikkalan and attanan too?”

Rex frowned, picking up an ammo clip. “I guess some of us are sisters or siblings, but I personally haven’t met any.”

Ahsoka hummed. “Drop decided a few days ago they were agender, Rexter.”

“Ah. Well there we go, then. At least one attan.”

Atru grinned.

-Dragons-

“Hey, Atru!” Glancing up from the pot he was scrubbing with soft sand, the boy grinned and waved to Ahsoka. Beside him, Nittu looked around expectantly, but the lack of any yellow on white meant he went back to playing with his new brightly colored counting stones.

“So,” the togruta said as she crouched beside them. “How would you like to see the inside of a gunship?”

-Dragons-

“Snips...”

“What? You said we should make sure more of the Amavikkan are familiar with how to operate our equipment, including the aircraft.”

Anakin shot her a flat look, the effect of which was pretty thoroughly dampened by the blonde baby being bounced in his arms. “Older Amavikkan, like Ekriti.” The zeltron woman glanced up at her name, but quickly went back to studying the controls of the ship beside Hawk.

“What, just because he’s a kid Atru isn’t allowed to learn?”

“He’s five, Snips.”

“Maybe six,” Atru said absently, standing on tip-toe in order to peer into the cockpit. He heard Anakin sigh, and the baby gurgle.

“One flight, up to the Endurance and back, and then he stays put, alright?”

“Alright, alright, message received loud and clear.”

-Dragons-

The day after his trip up to the biggest spaceship ever, Atru was once again doing chores with Nittu at his side when Ahsoka appeared, the twi’lek girl in white and yellow skipping along at her heels.

Numa mostly spoke Ryl, with a little bit of Basic - but Amatakka was a language made up of all bits and pieces, with additions from children of more deserts than just Tatooine’s. With a few shared words, and gestures, and laughter, they communicated just fine.

Nittu really seemed to like her too, to the point that he even started to follow after Numa when she ran up to a pair of dragons. Atru nearly stopped him, but then he saw Cody, and just sat back as he watched the smaller boy run up to the man who kneeled to meet him.

-Dragons-

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow, when our Jedi arrives with his flagship,” Cody said softly, sitting beside Atru, Nittu once again asleep with his arms around the man’s neck. “I’d like to take Nittu with me.”

Atru considered it. “Alright. Will you still let him be a Windsong?”

“He’ll always be Atruaberatu,” Cody answered, “and you two can always be upandan. I follow my Jetii, but there will be times he comes back here to visit - probably right around the same times General Skywalker and his family do too.”

“And Rex?”

“And Rex, little one.”

-Dragons-

The copper-haired Jedi arrived, briefly, to hug Anakin and Ahsoka and collect his white and yellow dragons. Nittu went with them, and Numa, along with a few other Amavikkan too, including Eteru, so Atru didn’t feel too worried about the younger boy forgetting himself again.

As he watched the ships take off and slip away into the morning sky, Rex came to stand beside him. “...we’ll be heading off in a couple of days too,” the man eventually said.

Atru kept quiet.

“Going to be more Amavikkan recruits for us than the 212th, thanks to Anakin. Mechanics, mostly, a few pilots, and some who want to learn to fight.” A pause. “Would be nice to have some ad’e around, too, especially ones who might be willing to keep an eye on the little Skies.”

Ad’e meant children, Atru knew. He’d asked Ahsoka once, after dozing off in Rex’s lap while waiting out a sandstorm and vaguely hearing the man call him ad’ika.

“...I guess I’m already the right color.”

Rex laughed. “Yeah, same shade, even.”

After a moment, Atru looked up at him. “Would I have to sleep with the others, or could I stay with you?”

The man smiled, and ruffled his hair. “I think you and I can work something out.”

-Dragons-

“MOVE!”

Firing back the way they’d come, Atru shoved Jinni Skywalker ahead of him, keeping his armored form in-between her and little Feather and the blaster shots coming towards them. Once they rounded a corner, he holstered his pistol and picked up both girls in order to sprint for shelter. The stormtroopers moved a little slower, wary of traps or return fire but well aware the old facility had no rear exit.

For the time being, Atru and his charges were trapped.

He skidded around another turn, thankfully spotting a half-open door just ahead. “Okay,” Atru panted, stopping next to it and pushing Jinni through before handing the pink toddler back to her. “Find a hiding place and stay there, I need you to keep Feather quiet at all costs, okay?”

The blonde six year old nodded at him, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “Atru-?”

“I’ve got to lead them away from you, but I’ll be alright, I promise. Just hide, Jinni, until you feel your dad or Aunt Soka, don’t come out for anyone but them.”

Tromping boots echoed closer. Atru dragged the rusted door closed, hurried further down the hallway, and fired at the first empty-white helmet that appeared after him. Thankfully, the intermittent lighting of the abandoned facility worked in his favor, the pursuing stormtroopers unable to tell he’d left the girls behind.

The teen swiftly lost track of time as he ran, dodged, and returned fire. Once, a blaster shot clipped his leg, not bad enough to take him out, but the pain still caused him to trip and fall against something with a sharp edge. Cursing at the blood that would make his trail easier to follow, Atru tried to put more distance in-between himself and the enemy.

That backfired when he nearly ran right into the backside of a different group of stormies.

Certain he’d just signed his own death certificate, Atru backed away from the array of blasters - only to breathe out a prayer of thanks to every divinity he knew of when the ceiling erupted with red-hot heat and the flashing of lightsabers.

As Anakin and Ahsoka tore their way through the enemy soldiers, other figures landed around Atru, dragons in white and blue and black, death and life and freedom. One dropped to his knees and yanked off his helmet in order to meet the teen’s exhausted gaze, hands skimming his clothes to check for injuries before stopping on either side of his face.

“You better hurry up and finish with these kriffing growth spurts so we can get your permanent armor,” Rex stated, causing Atru to laugh. He rested their foreheads together. “I deal with enough heart attacks from the Skies, ad’ika, don’t you start giving me even more.”

“I’ll do my best, Ipa,” Atru promised.

“All clear, Captain,” one of the Amavikkan dragons called. “Skywalker and Tano found the girls - permission to return topside so Ekriti and Hawk can stop panicking?”

“Permission granted,” his dad replied. He stood, carefully hauling Atru up with him, before pausing. “And someone tell Marker to have his paint set ready - we’ve got some jaig eyes that need awarding, as soon as possible.”

Cheers and whoops followed them out of the facility, and Atru grinned so wide his cheeks hurt. Rex and the other vod’e called them jai’galaar’la sur’haii’se, but to him, they would always be atre-ikkeltinan:

The Eyes of the Dragons.

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flockrest · 11 months

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nonverbal prompts / accepting / @gloryseized

aid help them with a task. from Link to Tulin

A good warrior always pays attention, and always closely observes their surroundings for potential scrimmages. Not that he's being a warrior right now — or that he needs to be at a time like this — but he figures the ways of the effective warrior, as decreed by Dad would apply here, too.

It's with wide eyes and a beak shoved in too-close that he watches Link go about his culinary doings, noting all the motions he makes with the cooking pot and the ingredients he throws into the cooking stew. A faithful student, 'cept maybe he's also being an annoying one; not for the first, second, or even sixth time, Tulin finds his feathers brushing up against Link's side again. Oops.

"Sorry!" he strains to whisper, withdrawing. Just for a beat or two, though. He's back to pushing himself into the process in a way that is definitely not helpful before long.

How else is he gonna learn how much rock salt he should be adding, or what colours the soup should be turning, or how many times he should be stirring, and so many other cooking things he'd totally mess up ( has totally messed up ) 'cause the most cooked thing he's ever made involved— like— four steps!

This is an important dish, for an important person! Botching it once alone is fine, whatever, but botching it when he's got the amazing chef that is Link here to learn from? When he asked for Link's help in the first place? Embarrassing to the highest degree.

He tries reviewing all the steps he's seen so far in his mind's eye, determined to commit them all to memory, only to hit a snag every time he tries going past the fifth one. Then it's past the fourth step, 'cause he's suddenly confused and doubtful. Then it's the third step.

"Uhh, Link?" he cheeps, high and warbling. He can't help the wince that pinches his beak when the whole recipe, even unfinished as it is, falls to its last pieces in his head. Why is remembering archery rules and forms and tips and basically everything 'bout being the best archer ever easier than this? "I know I said I only needed help learning, but— d'you think we could just," he shakes his wings at what will no doubt be a real delicious stew, "use your food?"

Mum would at least have a chance of recovering something from her sickness with Link's cooking. She's only lost stuff like her guts with Tulin's.

#gloryseized #01. gloryseized #( HELLO!! thanks for sending this in!! <3 #i usually intend for my prompt answers to be read as drabbles but idk what happened here. half a drabble and starter or smth #i hope you won't mind me throwing a starter at you later for the sc anyway slkdfjldf #anyhow. [on my hands and knees] I LOVE THEM AND THEIR FRIENDSHIP SO MUCH!!! )#* windsong / ic.#* windsong / answer.#* ic / para.#* v / song of the taming.

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imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs · 5 years

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Does anyone know if Ezran and Callum are Half-brothers or if they’re only step-brothers?

This article

http://dragonprince.wikia.com/wiki/Sarai

Says that she’s Ezran and Callum’s birth mother, but Callum is always referred to as a “step-brother” or “step-prince”. Can someone clue me in? I’m writing a Dragon Prince fanfic, and I’ve only gut one season, my gut, and fledgling wiki to go on. Anyone know anything? Any theories or advice?

#The Dragon Prince #TDP #Windsong #Windsong AU #Pocahontas AU #Sarai #Callum #Ezran #Harrow #The Royal Family #Just askin #Askin some questions #hopin for some answers #My writing #Fanfiction #Fanfic

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honeybeeespeaks · 4 years

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Room 205

(gif made by the beautiful @pascalplease💕)

Part Four

Word Count: 6082 (I’m so sorry babes lmao)

Warnings: Smut (18+), adult content, death/violence mention, weed smoking, soft Javi, any shitty formatting because I’m not posting from mobile lmao

Summary: Over passing months, Javier and Nell realize their true feelings for each other.

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The time glowed neon red from the alarm clock on the nightstand as Javier stood by the window, finishing his cigarette. The scent of the smoke that filled the room was mixed with incense and the lingering essence of the afterglow. A sheer maroon scarf draped over the bedside lamp veiled the room in soft orange while John Denver’s Windsong album played from Nell’s record player in the corner of the room. He turned his head, taking in how she looked laying nude on the queen size bed as a subtle smile came to rest on his lips. The scene was something akin to a painting. The way her hair laid along her collarbones as she rested her back against the pillows. Like water in a stream, flowing over rocks. Her left leg bent with her knee in the air, her skin so smooth it was as if she was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. The sheets were bunched into a corner of the mattress, evidence of their previous lust filled movements. She sang along quietly to the music as she rolled a joint on her stomach. She was art. He put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the windowsill and turned to face the bed. He gazed at her for a few moments, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he began making his way back to her. He took his pants back off and crawled onto the bed, stopping at her feet and kneeling in front of her. He ran his hand under her calf, lifting her leg and trailing his fingers up and down slowly, stopping to draw soft circles at her knee. He cupped her ankle in his hand and littered soft kisses along the side of her foot. Nell jerked her leg back instinctually but Javier kept a firm grip on her ankle.

“You don’t have a foot thing do you?” She raised an eyebrow before she slid her tongue along the small white paper, sealing the joint while a playful smirk danced on her mouth. He stopped his motions and looked at her before his head fell with a laugh. He shook his head a few times, raising it after a few seconds so his eyes met hers.

“No.” He smirked, resuming his trail of kisses up her ankle and the side of her calf. “I have a you thing.” A small giggle left Nell’s chest as she watched him make his way, his hand sliding up to cup the back of her knee as his lips trailed over it. She grabbed the lighter off her bedside table as she continued singing along to the song that filled the silence.

“All of her nights have gone sad and shady, she’s gettin' ready to fly...” He peppered kisses around her thigh as she sang, bringing her leg down to lay on the bed as he slowly slid himself down to lay on his stomach between her legs. He laid his head on her upper thigh as her leg came to rest. Propping his chin up, his fingers moved up to gently trace over the faded black crescent moon inked into the skin of her hip. His eyes flickered up at her as the tiny flame lit the joint held between her lips, his gaze falling back to the ink slowly.

“Do you ever want to stop? Traveling...” he trailed off, turning his head to press a gentle kiss to her thigh. “It has to—you must get lonely sometimes..” he spoke softly before looking up to meet her eyes once more. She smiled down at him before she took a slow hit, her fingers brushing through his dark hair languidly. She blew the smoke to the side and shook her head a tiny bit.

“I’ve never really known anything else. Not sure I’d know how to stop.” She kept her gaze on him for a few moments before she took another hit off the joint, exhaling slowly, her nails gently scratching his scalp. “And I’m always lonely, Javier. Everyone is. Most of the time...but no one is willing to admit it. It’s too scary, the thought of being lonely. But really..it’s not so bad. You’d know, you’re lonely too.” Javier’s brows furrowed as he looked at her, his gaze moving back to her hip quickly. She was right. He’d been lonely for longer than he could remember at this point. They stayed silent for a few moments, letting the air fill with music and the smoke from Nell’s joint. He looked up at her after a song came to an end and shifted himself as he began his trail of kisses once more. Sprinkling featherlike pecks up her stomach and around her chest as he settled his hips between her legs. She bit her lip softly, putting the joint out in the ashtray beside the bed as his lips ghosted over her collarbones. Her hands settled on his shoulders while he kissed up her neck and slid his hands into her hair, moving up to her face. He pressed himself against her, letting his body weight settle on top of her. His thumbs brushed against her cheeks, looking down at her as he let out a soft sigh.

“My little moon..” He watched her cheeks flush slightly at the nickname and a tiny smile danced on his lips. He peppered soft kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids before pressing a deep kiss to her lips. She was a little breathless as he pulled away and brushed his nose against hers, their eyes still closed. It was quiet for a few moments as they opened their eyes to meet each other’s gaze. Javier stroked her cheeks with his thumbs gently as he kept his eyes on her. She blinked softly a few times and swallowed.

“Do you want to stay?” Her voice came out in a whisper. Javier’s eyes scanned her face for a few silent moments. The record player had stopped, their breathing filling the empty space it made. He leaned down slowly, answering her with another deep kiss as he slipped his other hand down between their bodies. A small gasp escaped Nell’s lips as he brushed his fingers against her center. She kissed him back a little harder, her fingers curling into his hair. He grinned lightly against her lips as he lined himself up with her entrance. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead before pushing into her, sheathing himself inside her fully. The whine that escaped her was muffled by Javier’s lips crashing against hers once more.

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For the first time in a very long time, Javier stayed. That next morning, waking up with her, holding her close, kissing her good morning, he knew he’d stay forever if she’d asked him to. As the months seemed to roll by, he found himself doing something he never thought he’d do again. For the first time in nearly two decades, he was falling in love with someone. Freely and completely. He almost didn’t even realize it was happening. The way she looked at him, called his name, hell just the way she moved seemed to melt away all the wickedness of the world. After all that time, the things he’d seen and done during the infamous drug war, Javier Peña’s life was easy. It was all because of her. Nell, fearless, lovely, caring, gorgeous Nell. She didn’t make him feel afraid for the future, didn’t make him feel like he wasn’t worthy of her. She encouraged him and cheered him on in everything he did. Made him feel special without it having anything to do with Pablo fucking Escobar. She saw him.

She was beautiful of course, and grew even more beautiful to him as each day passed. Every story she told him, the little details he learned about her, even seeing her angry just made her more beautiful. She completely captivated him. Graceful in her every action and almost as stubborn as he was. He’d never met anybody who made him feel as free as she did. Every time she dragged him outside when it was raining to dance or when they would sneak in quickies on the bench during their lunches. Javier had given up making plans a long time ago but every time he held her, looked into her eyes, or listened to her laugh, he was making plans. He never allowed himself to see a future for himself like the one he could see with Nell. He’d even finally started moving into the small farmhouse that sat on his father’s property in hopes that maybe one day she’d say yes to staying with him. There were no more threats of danger, no weapons, no politics, no more dead bodies. He didn’t have to worry about either of them getting hurt or being scared. They were safe.

He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he realized he was in love with her, he just knew he was. It was everything. How she’d examine the fruits and vegetables at the farmer’s market she brought him to or the way she’d purposely sing badly along to a song while they drove around in his truck. The little ticks she had; like pulling at her earlobe when she was nervous, dancing in her seat before her food was placed in front of her at a restaurant, or running her hand through her hair over and over when she was getting impatient. He fell for it all and for the first time in a very, very long time, he was okay with having no control over it whatsoever. Javier Peña was deeply and irrevocably in love with this woman.

They added new routines to ones they already had as the months went by. Keeping up with their lunches and their late night adventures, though most of those late night adventures didn’t seem to travel beyond the bed in Nell’s motel room. On days off from school or weekends, Nell would come by and help move his things from the main house into the small new farmhouse. He’d introduced her to his father the second time she’d come around to help. She wasn’t normally nervous but she knew what Chucho meant to Javier and for the first time was genuinely scared of what someone would think of her. As Javier had predicted, his father loved her immediately. Her nervous energy melted away as they spent the entire day swapping stories of his travels during the army with hers of the places she’d been as a child. From that day on, weekly dinners at his father’s house were added to their list of routines.

The week Steve and Connie came to visit was the only time Javier let himself be nervous about anything. It was the first time his old life and this new life were colliding and he had no control over it. He didn’t know how they’d react to the life he had now. He was certainly far different from the man they knew in Colombia. More than he wanted to admit, he cared what they thought of the person he was now and what they’d think of Nell. It shouldn’t have shocked him when they too fell completely in love with her just as his father and his other friends had. Connie stole her away almost immediately after they met and Steve couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his mouth as he observed his friend, realizing just how deep he’d fallen for this girl and how much he’d changed from the person he knew in Bogotá. As they made their next plans to meet and said their goodbyes, Connie flashed Javier a small sign of approval, gesturing to Nell subtly. He’d rolled his eyes and laughed to himself but he couldn’t help but be over the moon that they liked her as much as they did. Steve and Connie were pretty much the only good things to come out of all those years in Colombia and he was happy to show them that he was doing well after all the bullshit they went through together over nearly a decade.

It was more important than Nell realized, the fact that Javier’s friends liked her. She’d fallen for Javier just as far as he’d fallen for her. Meeting his father was nerve wracking enough, but with his friends, she was even more nervous. She was fine with Drew and Rose because they were her friends too but they hadn’t known Javier in Colombia. These were the people who had seen him during the worst parts of his life. Things he wouldn’t tell her about, they knew. Then she’d seen the look in his eyes the day he found out they were coming for a visit. He couldn’t totally focus, slightly fidgety the whole day, staying even more quiet than usual until she made him tell her what was going on in his head. She’d listened to him admit to the fear of his past intruding into this clean slate he had, the fear of them not accepting him for who he was now. When they showed up and immediately couldn’t be happier for the two of them, she could almost feel the nervous energy leave Javier’s body. A wave of relief washed over her as she and Connie hit it off instantly. Connie asked about her life and how she and Javier met while Nell asked about what their life was like in Miami and how little Olivia was doing, who happened to be staying with Connie’s sister during their visit. Things couldn’t have gone any better and Nell was relieved that Javier could also rest well knowing how happy his friends were to see him where he was now. The four of them were practically inseparable the entire week of the visit. Nell gave Connie a tour of the bus while Steve and Javier caught up, talking about everything except the fucking DEA. He gave Steve and Connie a tour of his new house while popping back into the kitchen every once in a while to help Nell with the dinner she was preparing. Steve and Connie gave Javier knowing smirks as they watched how he was with her. Steve even told Javier that he’d be looking out for an invitation in the mail not too long from now, earning a harmless swat against his chest from Connie and he would never admit to it, but flushed cheeks from Javier.

That night after saying their goodbyes to their friends, they laid in bed together at Javier’s place and he told Nell everything. All of the things he’d seen in Colombia, even the awful things he did, or had a hand in. She held him when he cried about seeing a child be shot and having one of his close friends be killed and it inadvertently being his fault. She stomached the descriptions of the things the Los Pepes death squad had done and Javier’s part in it. He trusted her with everything he had and knew she would never judge him for anything he had done while he was down there. He was right. She didn’t judge him, she felt for him. She was horrified by the things he’d told her and wished he’d never had to do any of it, see any of it. She stayed up with him into the early morning hours, stroking his hair and listening without a word until he fell asleep on her chest.

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Morning light streamed through the small windows of Nell’s motel room, her curtains billowing softly from the warm air breezing throughout the room. She woke up laying on her side, feeling light kisses trail down her arms following over her hip and ass. Javier smiled softly as he heard a barely audible hum come from her mouth. She kept her eyes closed, a lazy smile forming on her lips. He kissed down the back of her thigh, gently pushing one of her legs up, spreading her for him from behind. He dipped his head between her legs and licked through her folds. She opened her eyes with a gasp and reached back to grab his hair, a gritty moan escaping her throat as her voice adjusted to being awake. Tiny whimpers fell from her lips as he gently moved her to lay on her back, keeping his mouth on her. His tongue circled her clit at an agonizingly slow pace while he teased her entrance with two fingers. She bucked her hips slightly, his arm coming up to hold her hips down against the bed as he continued his assault with his tongue. She arched her back off the bed with a whimper when he slipped his fingers into her. Tiny moans fell from her lips over and over as his fingers pumped in and out of her, teasing her clit with his tongue before sucking on it and repeating again. Her breathing quickened as she felt her orgasm stirring low in her stomach. He added another finger and moved his fingers faster, feeling her tighten around them. He flicked his tongue over her clit one more time and she practically screamed as she came against his mouth. He pulled his fingers out of her, listening to the tiny whine that fell from her lips. He smirked as he cleaned them off and placed a few kisses on her clit, making her jump a little. He giggled and shook his head, kissing back up her body until he met her lips. He fused his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. Nell reached her hand down between them to grab him but he caught her wrist in his hand, pulling away from her only slightly.

“Ah ah, I have to go to work.” he smiled and kissed her forehead when she pouted at him. He untangled himself from her and rose from the bed. She sat up a little bit as she watched him light a cigarette and put his briefs on.

“But it’s Saturday.” she huffed a little, crossing her arms in protest. He laughed softly and nodded.

“Sometimes I have to work on Saturday's baby. We’ll continue later, I promise.” She couldn’t help the smile that cracked on her mouth when he winked at her. He put on his dress pants and slipped his white undershirt over his head before picking up his dress shirt and sliding it over his shoulders. He glanced at the alarm clock and turned, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray that sat on the motel dresser. He turned toward her while he buttoned up his shirt, tucking the bottom into his pants.

“So there’s this dinner party thing tonight with all the high ups from the office....do you wanna go with me?” he buttoned his pants and set his hands on his hips, looking over at her as she reached for her rolling papers.

“You’re asking your pot smoking hippie girlfriend to join you for a dinner party hosted by the drug enforcement administration?” she raised an eyebrow with a giggle. He rolled his eyes with a smile, making his way back over to her side of the bed, sitting down on the edge.

“Yes, I see the irony in that.” he placed a hand on her bare thigh and brushed his thumb against her skin softly. “Come on, it won’t be that bad. And we’ll sneak out as early as we can.” he gave her a look that always made her melt and made it virtually impossible for her to say no to him. She groaned a little, flashing him a small smile.

“You’ve got the eyes and everything.” She shook her head a few times, laying her hand on top of his. “Alright, I’ll do it. Do I have to be fancy?” he chuckled softly as he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead before standing up.

“Yes, you have to be fancy.” he walked over to the chair that held his blazer and slipped it on. She gave an over dramatic sigh after sitting up against the headboard a bit more.

“Guess I’m going shopping while you’re at work.” he gave her a smile and walked over to the bed, leaning down to press a deep kiss to her lips. He brushed a thumb against her cheek as he pulled away.

“Take Rosie with you, you’ll have more fun. I’ll be back here at 7 to pick you up, okay?” She gave a little hum and nodded her head, watching him as he slipped on his shoes and moved around the room to gather the rest of his things.

“Okay. See you at 7...” Javier stopped at the door and turned back to face her. He shot her a wink and made his way out, closing the door softly behind him. Nell smiled to herself after he closed the door and shook her head softly with a light laugh. Oh how deeply in love she was with that man.

----

“What are you looking for exactly?” Rose questioned as she sorted through a rack of cocktail dresses at the boutique they’d wandered into on their search. They’d gone to at least five different places and came up with absolutely nothing that Nell thought was worthy enough of the night.

“Something to distract Javier enough to leave earlier.” Nell giggled from inside the dressing room as she zipped up the one she was trying on. The door swung open to reveal her in a floor length lilac chiffon spaghetti strap dress. Rose looked over it and shook her head a little.

“Nah, there’s something weird about it, I don’t even know what.” Nell nodded in agreement and closed the door, taking off the dress and looking through the others she had with her. Rose continued searching and pulled three different dresses off the rack, walking over to the door and knocking before passing them to Nell over the top of it. “So you and Javi...getting pretty serious huh?” Nell rolled her eyes a little bit on the other side of the door and smiled to herself, shrugging.

“I mean, I guess so. We’re together nearly every day, we have dinner at his dad’s once a week, we’re keeping clothes and toothbrushes at each other’s places..” she shrugged to herself once more as she started to feel her cheeks flush.

“And you said yes to the job offer that would keep you here at least another school year.” she could feel Rose’s smirk through the door and she shook her head with a laugh.

“I did, and it had nothing to do with Javier. I just love the kids.” she zipped up one of the dresses Rosie had given her and turned herself around, taking in the mirror’s image.

“Oh sure sure, nothing to do with Javier.” she replied sarcastically, suppressing a giggle as Nell opened the door again. Rosie’s jaw dropped a little and she nodded quickly as a big smile spread across her lips. “That’s it. That’s the one.”

----

As he’d promised, Javier was at Nell’s door at 7pm sharp. The way his eyes widened and stuttered on his words at the sight of her nearly made the whole night worth it for her. The dress was emerald green satin and floor length. A slit ran from the bottom up to the middle of Nell’s thigh and it dropped low in the back to rest just above her ass, spaghetti straps crossing beneath her shoulder blades. The front dipped just low enough to get a tiny peek at her cleavage. The way it hugged her curves could have made Javier change his mind about going to this stupid thing just so he could rip it off of her right here. Her dark hair flowed loose over her shoulders.

“Whoa..” he let out a breathy chuckle as he shook his head, eyes traveling up and down her body slowly. “Fuckin’ a baby. You look...” he shook his head again and looked at her, noticing her tiny smirk. “Christ, you look gorgeous.” her cheeks flushed slightly and she let out a small giggle. She stepped forward, closing the door behind her and set her hands on his chest.

“Mmm...I could say the same about you.” she purred before leaning up to kiss him softly.

Javier looked just as good. He donned an all black tux paired with a bow tie and shiny black dress shoes. The ensemble fit him perfectly, accentuating his arms and tight torso. He grinned against her lips, hands running up her back slowly as he came to cup her face in his hands before he pulled away. They made their way down the stairs to where his truck was parked and he led her over to the passenger side door. She turned to face him before he could open the door.

“You look so good all dressed up like this, it’ll be hard to keep my hands off of you..” she teased, slipping her hands around his neck. He swatted her ass playfully and gave her a quick peck.

“Behave.” he spoke sternly as a smirk grew on his lips.

“Are you gonna make me?” she raised an eyebrow and he groaned a little, rolling his eyes.

“Careful hermosa...we’d never get to the party if I tried.” he leaned down to press a deeper kiss to her lips before pulling back and opening the door for her.

“All the more reason to then.” she flashed him a playful smile before sliding into the truck. He chuckled, shaking his head as he closed the door and made his way to his side.

The party was just as Nell thought it would be. Big, lavish, and utterly boring. Javier kept her close to him the whole time, whispering assurances in her ear as she met different people who worked with him as well as too many other important government officials. By the time the sit down dinner was through, Nell was already ready to get the hell out of there. She couldn’t stand listening to the way they talked about America and it’s “War on Drugs.” Javier could see it every time a different delegate came to talk to him about his time in Colombia. He didn’t enjoy these types of things either but the way she looked in that dress was a welcomed distraction from the conversations about the work he wanted to forget completely.

They’d been teasing each other all night, making a game out of the otherwise lifeless evening. Nell sliding her hand up Javier’s thigh during dinner or Javier pinching Nell’s ass, making her involuntarily squeak during a conversation with his boss. She excused herself to the man, making up some excuse about her shoe pinching her foot and flashed Javier a warning laced glare. He had to hide the playful smile that his mouth was desperate to break into. After the way he whispered into her ear as they danced about all the things he couldn’t wait to do to her when they got back to the safety of her room, she didn’t think she could handle it if he didn’t take her right there on the floor. She slid her hand between them as they danced, giving him the most innocent of looks as she palmed him through his dress pants. His breath hitched in his throat and looked down at her, his bottom lip going numb with how hard he had to bite down to suppress the groan in his throat. He scanned the room for a moment before grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the exit.

“Little too early to leave don’t you think?” she gave him a questioning look as she nodded back toward the ballroom. She was desperate to leave but she knew they had to sit through a few more speeches and mingle some more before they would get to go back home.

“We’re not leaving.” he answered shortly, pushing the doors open and making his way down a hallway.

“Where are we going?” She giggled as he pulled her along quickly through the corridor entering the office areas of the building

“My office.”

Javier closed his office door harshly, and pressed her against it. His lips went to her neck while his hands roamed over the silky material of her dress. His tongue swiping behind her earlobe before tugging at the soft flesh with his teeth. She let out a small whine, her hands coming to the waistband of his trousers, undoing the button and zipper quickly. He pulled the thin straps off her shoulders, slipping his arms under her thighs to lift her up, pinning her against the door. She let out a soft gasp as her back hit the cold frosted glass, wrapping her legs around his hips, her dress bunching at her hips. He kissed her hard, tongue gliding over hers as a hand slipped between them to free his straining cock from his briefs. Their breathing was harsh and interrupted by tiny moans and gasps as their hands roamed each other. Nell’s arms slithered around Javier’s shoulders, bracing herself with one arm while the other hand slid into his hair and pulled. He let out a low growl against her mouth as he pushed her panties aside, thrusting himself into her fully with one motion. She gasped loudly, her head falling back against the door. His head came to rest in the crook of her neck, soft moans falling from his lips against her collarbone as he started moving inside her. She dug her nails into the back of his jacket, whimpering softly as her head fell forward slowly. He lifted his to meet her lips in a searing kiss, moving his arms beneath her thighs to lift her up a bit more as he slipped out of her only to slide inside her completely a moment later. Nell cried out against his mouth, whining softly at the feeling of his tongue against hers. He continued his harsh movements, pulling back to press a few soft kisses to her lips as he moved.

“You’re so beautiful..” he breathed against her lips before catching them again, a hand coming to cradle the back of her head. She whimpered against his lips, his hips starting to move faster, pounding into her against the door. He pulled back slowly, resting his forehead against hers. “Come on baby...let go for me..”

“Oh god, Javier...” She gasped suddenly as she came, her body shaking a little bit in his arms. He scattered kisses over her neck, riding her through her orgasm. His thrusts became erratic as he let out breathy grunts against her skin before spilling himself inside her. He kissed up her neck gently before meeting her lips tenderly. A stifled gasp left both of them as he pulled out of her carefully, making sure nothing was on her dress. He reached over and grabbed a few tissues from the file cabinet beside them, cleaning her up gently before himself. He slipped himself back into his briefs and redid his pants. He watched her smooth out her dress as a soft smile formed on his mouth. He moved over to her slowly and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his arms. She let out a light giggle and looked up at him, placing a hand on his chest. He kissed her forehead before resting his against it. His hand came to rest over hers on his chest.

“You’re incredible..” he breathed, pecking her lips lightly. He couldn’t get enough of her. She smiled against his lips and looked at him once he’d pulled away.

“You’re amazing Javier.” she brushed her nose against his a little, her fingers intertwining with his against his chest. He hummed softly after a moment as he held her.

“Let’s tell everyone you’re sick and we have to go home.” he looked down at her with a playful smile. She nodded excitedly a couple times with a laugh.

“Please.”

They left the party after polite goodbyes and made their way back to the motel. Nell went to the bathroom to start a hot bath while Javier shed his clothing next to his side of the bed. He joined her after a few minutes watching as she lit candles around the room. They sunk into the warm water, sitting opposite each other, their legs crossing over each other’s under the water. They sat in silence for longer than either of them knew, passing glances at one another every few minutes. Nell sat up a tiny bit and looked over at Javier bathed in dim light. The pink tile walls of the shower covering him in a reddish glow.

“I wanna try something with you.” she spoke softly, watching as he turned his head to meet her gaze. He mirrored her actions, sitting up a bit more as he listened to her. “It’s this thing my parents and I used to do when I was growing up. It’s sort of a game about connection. We hold hands and we stare at each other for one minute. No talking.” he let out a little chuckle and shook his head.

“We just stare at each other? For one minute?” She rolled her eyes playfully and nodded.

“Yes, for one minute we hold hands and we connect. Come on, I went to the party tonight.” she challenged, raising an eyebrow at him. He smirked and pointed a finger at her.

“That ended very well for you as I recall.” she splashed him a little and giggled.

“Javier.” He shook his head a little with a smile and nodded.

“Okay, fine. One minute of staring at your beautiful face is too short but fine.” he teased and she flushed slightly, shaking her head a little. She thought after six months he’d stop making her blush but here she was. She took his hands in hers and cleared her throat. He smiled at her and squeezed her hands a little bit.

“Okay....start.” she nodded once, squeezing his hands back. They sat for less than a few seconds before they both burst into giggles, both unable to keep a straight face. Nell shook her head a little and sighed with a smile. “Okay, okay for real this time.” He nodded in response and cleared his throat before looking at her again. Javier brushed his thumbs over her hands as they looked at each other as silence filled the room once more. Javier’s brows furrowed after about thirty seconds, feeling tears brimming at the edge of his eyes. He blinked and sniffled a little, coughing before pulling his hands away from hers suddenly, looking down at the water. Her head tilted just a little as a warm smile spread across her lips. She stayed silent as she reached for one of his hands and intertwined her fingers with his. She laid back against the wall again and looked away. They sat silently in the warmth of the candle light for a little while before Javier raised his head again to look at her. He watched her for a few moments. The way her skin glowed in the dim light made his heart swell. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, tiny beads of sweat cascading over her collarbones from the heat of the water. She took his breath away.

“Come here, little moon.” he spoke softly, pulling her toward him. He turned her gently to lay her back against his chest between his legs. He leaned down and pressed feathery kisses along her shoulder. Slipping his arms around her waist, he kissed her cheek then her temple, holding her tight against him. She closed her eyes and hummed softly. She could stay here forever. In Javier’s arms. Being loved by him. Neither of them had said but they didn’t have to. It was impossible not to feel it practically radiating off of them. This was what love was supposed to feel like. Something neither of them had ever really felt before. Nell’s life had always been about change. Where she lived, people she knew, jobs she had, but for once Nell didn’t want anything to change. Not ever again if she had her way. She was safe with Javier and he was safe with her. Nothing about that would change.

——————————————————

After WAY too long....she’s here!! Thank you all so much for your patience, I can’t promise the next chapter won’t take just as long lmao

Taglist: @stevieharrrr, @pascalplease, @keeper0fthestars, @irishleesh93, @mrsparknuts, @emwriterblr, @voteforpedropascal, @valhallavalkyrie9, @lokiaddicted

#oh damn this took me too fucking long lmao #i really hope you guys love it #i ended up loving it by the end even though i hated it all the way writing it hahah #enjoy babes #room 205 #room 205 series #javier peña #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x oc #narcos #javi x oc #fanfic #fanfiction

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frostclawdragoon · 4 years

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Prompt #13: Don’t Think Twice (Extra Credit)

(Cameos by @verdantbard and @ishgard-dragoon‘s characters! Also a follow up response to @verdantbard‘s Echo Prompt. :3 )

It was always an exciting event when Khamri’a returned from… Wherever it was he would go. He never stayed in the Manor for as long as he could help it, something about not being an official member of Windsong. His excuse always made him laugh. Regardless, whenever Khamri’a went away on business or whatever he did out there in the world, Ouros would wait for him to come home, because it was always so fun when he walked in through the door.

It was always the same every time too. He’d show up at his room, Ouros would excitedly let him in, and the two would spend the rest of the day chatting about all the things they did while they were apart. Then when that was done, Ouros would gather up the latest books he’d purchased and they would go over them together. And that was exactly what happened today. Like clockwork, Khamri’a arrived at his room, Ouros let him in, they talked and then they read together into the odd hours of the night.

That is when Ouros noticed Khamri’a had dozed off.

It wasn’t uncommon for Khamri’a to snuggle up to him, he had always been a physically affectionate person, Ouros had noted, even with friends. Being affection-starved for his entire life, Ouros welcomed the closeness. It made him feel all warm, fuzzy and comfy, feelings that were becoming commonplace for him these days. So when Khamri’a laid his head on his shoulder, Ouros responded by resting his head against his, all the while reading aloud to his dear, dear friend. It wasn’t long after that did he hear the ever-so-tiny snores coming from the Keeper, and it took all of Ouros’ strength to not bubble out with laughter at how cute he sounded.

So here Ouros was, carrying the slumbering Khamri’a down the hall on his back with a delighted, hopeless smile on his face as he approached the Keeper’s bedroom. He didn’t want to move him in fear of disturbing his sleep, but he was a man of respect, and also felt it better for Khamri’a to sleep in his own room after a long trip away from home.

It took him a bit to open the door with his arms occupied with keeping Khamri’a on his back, and it was a time for him trying to navigate the unlit interior -- he always had such a time trying to see in the dark. Once he finally made it to the bed, he carefully slid Khamri’a onto the mattress and gently tucked him under a blanket or two. When it looked like Khamri’a was safe and comfortable enough for a good nights rest, Ouros smiled softly with adoration at the slumbering miqo’te, and gently reached over to brush the hair out from his face as a silent goodnight gesture.

It was when the back of his fingertips brushed along Khamri’a’s cheek that a sudden shock of excruciating pain shot through Ouros’ head. He winced away, his eyes pinching shut as his hand grabbed at his face and he grunted in agony. Flashes of memories, of a childhood, of a girl, of love, of pain, of regret, heartbreak, anger. It flooded his mind quickly, overwhelming him with emotions and visions of a life that was not his own.

When he snapped back to reality, he gasped in air like he had just breached the ocean’s surface, and nearly tumbled over onto the floor. He steadied himself quickly by grabbing onto the edge of Khamri’a’s bed while simultaneously covering his mouth to silence himself from making any further noises. His eyes wide with frightened confusion, he looked at the Keeper who slept the night away, none the wiser to what had just transpired.

Ouros fled the room as quickly, and quietly, as he could.

With trembling knees, Ouros made his way down the hallway using the wall as a guide, desperately trying to shake off the lingering effects of the Echo. His mind was a jumbled mess as it was, to add someone else’s complex emotions and past into the mix was enough to give him vertigo. He needed to sort this out, to figure out what exactly he saw, and why he saw it. And he needed to understand why now, of all times, did Hydaelyn decide it was a good time to invade Khamri’a’s privacy? To invade his past and feelings without his permission?

He stumbled again and quickly caught his footing by flopping his back against the wall he had been using as a guide. He waited there, completely still, until he was sure he could safely stand up. When the dizziness faded and he was able to stand upright again, his gaze then settled on a familiar door across from him. Silian’s door. Rayana’s door. Without hesitation, he moved toward it quickly and knocked lightly.

No answer.

He knocked again, this time louder, still no answer. Desperation set in as his anxiety climbed higher and higher. He opened the door slowly, the light of the hall illuminating the dark room just a tiny bit. He slipped inside, leaving the door ajar so he could see somewhat as he crept across the room. Reaching the bed, he knelt down, trying to see the petite, scaled auri form of Rayana. Which he was, thankfully, able to find. She was snuggled down in the massive elezen arms of Silian, barely visible with her face mushed into his chest and the blankets up to her horns. If not for the spots of green hair lying haphazardly behind her to give her position away in the extremely dim light, Ouros might never have spotted her.

He reached over and gingerly shook her shoulder, hoping to rouse only her and not the loud peacock of a man beside her. A few light shakes, and she stirred; a pair of bright, glowing green eyes opened toward him within the darkness.

“Ro-chan…?” Rayana whispered in tired confusion.

“I-I’m sorry to wake you, but--…” Ouros whispered back. “I need to talk to you.”

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

Ouros had led Rayana out of the Manor and down to the lake at the base of the Lavender Beds, where he began pacing about anxiously as the tired au ra sat herself down on a bench. He could feel her watching him, and he knew she could see how panicked he was, but he wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t sure where to even start explaining why his anxiety was running haywire.

“What is wrong?” Rayana finally asked after a long few minutes of watching him nervously walking back and forth.

Ouros stopped. He looked at her, then down to his hands that fiddled about idly. After a moment of weighing the pros and cons of revealing the truth to her, he sighed and made his way over to the bench to plop down beside her, his head falling into his hands.

“I don’t even know where to start.” He murmured loudly.

“Start from the beginning then.” Rayana said.

The beginning?... They’d be out here all night if he started from the beginning. Still, he needed someone to talk to, someone to help him pick this vision apart and help him sort everything out, and he trusted Rayana with everything. She had become his big sister in a lot of ways, and he leaned on that whenever he was troubled with something Khamri’a related.

And this was definitely Khamri’a related. He made a noise of discomfort, not wanting to get into too many specifics out of respect for Khamri’a’s privacy... But he needed help, and knew she could keep a secret.

“... So I have a special power.” He started as he leaned back, his hands running down his face. ��This power lets me see the future and the past of people I meet or know, and lets me feel their emotions to understand them, but it’s random and I have no control over it or when it happens.”

“You can see the past and the future...?” Rayana asked, her voice and expression in pure awe.

“Yes. It’s a complicated matter, one I don’t want to get into right now.” He looked at her. “I just needed to tell you that so you can understand when I say that I--... Saw Khamri’a’s past, just before I came to wake you up.”

The look of shock and surprise on Rayana’s face made him want to laugh, not out of amusement, but more of hopelessness at the situation he had found himself in. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees while he stared at the grass below his feet.

“I didn’t want to. I would have much preferred if he told me about his past himself. But unfortunately, I didn’t have a choice… And I saw… Felt… So many terrible, terrible things.” His expression grimaced to the pain weighing heavy on his chest. “I knew he had a past, one that broke him and made him cold, I just--... I didn’t know--”

He felt Rayana’s hand touch his shoulder reassuringly, and he shut his eyes and pressed his lips together tightly at the tight pain in his chest. He felt awful telling her this, even with how vague he was being. This was Khamri’a’s life he was just spewing out to her, and without his permission...

“... He suffered in silence, kept it bottled away.” He buried his face into his hands. “I don’t even know how to process any of what I’ve seen. Just that it hurt--... It hurt so bad, and there isn’t anything I can do to help him. He’s in so much pain and feels so much anger and I can’t stop it.”

“I always suspected Neko-chan’s past to be one full of much sorrow.” Rayana said as she turned her gaze downward. “He always had that air to him… Especially with how distant he could be.” She looked back to Ouros. “But regardless of how hopeless you may feel right now, you are helping him through his pain! You are his friend, and that is what he truly needs right now.”

“He wants to kill Khito.”

There was an awkward pause that hung in the air.

“... I mean… I am sure a lot of the members in Windsong wish to kill Khito, or at the very least, punch his face in severely.” Rayana said, suddenly.

Ouros whipped around to look at her, stunned. She raised her hands in defense.

“Not me!” She exclaimed. “I know he was your best friend and I do not want extreme harm to come to him!” Ouros frowned at the fact she only said extreme pain. Her too?

Rayana’s hands lowered slightly. “But you must understand that their anger toward him is from the fact Khito nearly killed you... If we had not found you under the rubble...”

“He doesn’t deserve to die for that.”

“And I agree. And I am, by no means, not justifying Neko-chan’s vengeful thoughts on the matter either, but… You are important to Windsong, and very important to him. It’s only natural they want to protect you from those who seek to do you harm. Especially after how we found you that day.”

Ouros turned away from her again and sighed heavily, a hand running through his hair. “This is why I didn’t want anyone to know he existed… The worst part is, I can’t talk Khamri’a out of this, I can save him from this darkness because he’ll know I saw into his past and--...”

“And...?”

“He’ll want to know what else I saw…” He answered, his head hanging low.

“What else did you see?”

Ouros tensed slightly. “... He loved--... Somebody. Still loves her, I think… And knowing how private he is, I don’t think those were feelings he ever wanted to come to light.”

He heard Rayana hmm and he peered at her out of the corner of his eye. She was tapping idly at her chin.

“While one does not forget their first love, I do not think he loves her as much now…” She said aloud with a thoughtful tone.

“Except I felt it, Rayana.” Ouros turned to face her fully. “My power lets me feel what another person feels, to understand them and the intentions behind their actions. He loves this woman with all his heart--...”

His voice trailed off as his mind wandered back to the visions. The feelings that Khamri’a had for Caoimhe, how strong they were and how fond he was of her. He loved her dearly, and wanted nothing more than to see her happy and safe. To protect her from the man that had wrongfully abused and crushed her heart. To ensure that man never, ever hurt her again, that he was willing to kill that man…

And then he remembered how the very same things applied to the visions involving himself. The fondness, the want to protect, the desire to ensure that no one would ever hurt him again. The want for vengeance against the one who broke his heart.

Ouros stared distantly as his eyes went wide with gradual understanding, and he could see Rayana’s head tilt in confusion at his long silence of shock. His mind was racing, going back to every moment, every talk, every gesture, every smile and laugh, every gift left behind in his room. Everything after the Ghimlyt Dark, everything on Norvrandt, every last second spent with Khamri’a. It all clicked.

“Ro-chan…?” Rayana asked, her voice soft and careful as though she were afraid to frighten him.

Ouros didn’t answer. He couldn’t remember how. His mind just shut off, his ears ringing loud, his heart pounding so hard and his stomach churning in the worst way possible. There was no way… No… None of that made sense, it couldn’t make sense, there was no sense to be had!... Except it did make sense. He saw it, felt it, he understood Khamri’a and the feelings behind his intentions. But he couldn’t register it, he couldn’t grasp it. There wasn’t any possible way that--... There couldn’t be! It’s impossible--!

“Ro-chan?” Rayana asked again, this time leaning forward with worry. “Are you okay…?”

“He loves me…” Ouros answered, finally, his gaze still distant as he traversed the memories flooding his mind. “Khamri’a loves me.”

Rayana leaned away, her own eyes growing wide with shock. “W--... What? How did you--?”

Ouros turned away from her again, his eyes darting about as if to find the answer he sought in the grass below. He didn’t even acknowledge Rayana’s shock at his discovery.

“But why?" He asked to no one in particular. “Why would--? Why would he ever see me as anything other than a nuisance? I’m obnoxious, I’m terrible, a waste of energy! I--!”

The more memories surfaced, the more overwhelmed Ouros became. He could feel the hot stinging of tears in his eyes, and his chest swelled with a pain so great he’d stopped breathing. He wasn’t worthy of any kind of love, he had accepted this long ago when he looked into his mother’s eyes and saw only disgust and frustration. So the idea that anyone could love him unconditionally sounded fake, false, unreal.

Except he felt it. He knew it wasn’t fake. He knew it was real.

Ouros covered his mouth with his hand, squeezing his jaw slightly as the tears in his eyes poured over. His emotions were all over the place. He was terrified and sick, but also overwhelmed with excitement? Or joy? Relief? He didn’t know what he was feeling specifically, just that it was happening all at once. For a brief second, he thought he might explode.

“Are you going to be alright, Ro-chan?” Rayana asked as she placed a hand on his shoulder again to lightly shake him out of whatever mind-cage he was in.

Ouros jumped at her touch and looked at her, the confusion he felt ever present on his expression. “Did you know?” He asked.

Rayana stared for a moment, then gave him a soft, sad smile. “... I did… I think I figured it out before he even did. He always treated you with a different kind of softness, one not unlike the way Sillyman treats me.”

“How long?”

“I think before Norvrandt--”

“That long?”

When Rayana nodded, Ouros lowered his head slightly, his mind still running a million malms a second. All this time… All this time he thought Khamri’a felt the exact opposite. That his feelings would go forever unreturned, unrecognized, ignored. That no one in their right mind would ever love a sick and broken mess of a man incapable of shutting his mouth for more than two seconds. And yet, here he sat, his deep rooted belief shattered in a single instant. That his mother, his tribe, his own thoughts were proven wrong. Someone out in the world really did love him, and there was no way for anyone to prove otherwise because the feeling was there.

A sudden feeling formed in his stomach, replacing that sick feeling with something else. An urge. A need.

He… He had to tell him…! He had to tell him how he felt, he needed to know that he was loved too! That he wasn’t alone--!

…

No… No he couldn’t.

This knowledge wasn’t meant for him, he only happened upon it because of the Echo, not because Khamri’a wanted him to know. If he went to Khamri’a right now and confessed everything, even his own feelings, he would surely chase him off. Khamri’a was a broken man, one who had his heart shattered in ways Ouros was far too familiar with. So he knew. He knew he had to be careful, that such a topic was not to be treated lightly, no matter how much his heart yearned to finally be heard and free. No matter how badly he wanted to hold Khamri’a tightly and tell him how much he loved him.

It was one thing to be told you would never leave, that you would be at their side no matter what, that their heart was safe… And another thing entirely to firmly, deeply believe in it. His own experience with the Echo just seconds before this realization was proof of that. He was still struggling to believe in the idea that someone could love him, despite having felt the emotions himself.

Khamri’a hadn’t had a chance to know Ouros’ feelings, not in the way that Ouros knew his. Given what he saw in that vision, how he felt for Caoimhe, Khamri’a probably let himself believe he wasn’t deserving of Ouros’ affection or attention, or that he would likely be replaced by someone who was far better… Even though there was no one better, but he didn’t know that. Or rather… Didn’t believe it.

… He doesn’t believe…

... That’s it!

“Thank you.” Ouros said as he stood up suddenly, catching Rayana off guard. “I think I know what I am supposed to do now.”

“Eh?” Rayana tilted her head again, still hopelessly lost about everything happening right now. “What do you mean?”

He looked at Rayana and smiled weakly, the confusion in his expression gradually shifting to resolve. “I know how I can help Khamri’a, to make him stop hurting.”

“You--... You do? How?” She asked.

“You’ll see…!” His smile grew. “I’ll see you tomorrow! And thanks again!”

Rayana stood up to ask further questions, but was too late. Ouros had already sprinted off, shaking off the last of his pent up energy from the anxiety he had been feeling for most of that conversation. Though the overwhelming confusion had not left him, nor the worry for Khito’s life being in danger, he at least now knew what he had to do, and was mentally preparing himself for his most difficult challenge yet.

He had to help Khamri’a believe.

#FFxivWrite2020 #FFxivWrite #my writings #Ouros Stories #EEEY a response post to another story DFGLMDFGLDF #story RPs Are Fun

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osanzo · 3 years

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windsong anon it isn’t that i haven’t seen your fanart it’s just that i opened my inbox a few days ago, saw it, and immediately had to close the whole app because i was overwhelmed with emotion

and to answer your question i feel like axel would mostly be good about tending his pet storms, but every once in a while when he’s particularly distracted they’ll brush up against him with some light static and soft thunder to get his attention

#ignore me #i feel like they’d behave like cats?#and axel would be totally about having a cat #but unfortunately anton is allergic and afraid of them #also he fucking loves dogs #but he knows he doesn’t have the regularity of attention dogs require

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

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Four Things Felix Rosier Remembered.

Fall 1980

"And this is Felix Rosier," the Slytherin prefect says, introducing the first year to the teenagers seated around the fire. "Yes, yes. Of those Rosiers."

Eyes turn to inspect the eleven year old Felix. He's acutely conscious of how short he is compared to the older students.

"Well, don't just stand there," says the prefect with an encouraging smile, motioning Felix to join them. "Come. Sit."

Felix takes stiff steps toward the sofa. When he reaches it, the prefect pats the space next to him and Felix perches straight-backed on the edge of the seat.

The prefect's badge gleams in the firelight. So do his perfect, even teeth as he flashes his dazzling smile again. Felix wonders which of those is the main supplier of the older boy's supreme confidence, and how he, Felix, might go about obtaining it.

"So, you’re Evan's...brother?" asks the girl across from him. Her skin and hair are dark, but her eyes are such a light grey they're almost white and painful to look at. They flash as cold and cutting as diamonds.

"Cousin," Felix answers. "But I see him all the time. He stays at our manor most summers."

"Really?" the girl drawls, smiling in a way that makes Felix uncomfortable and tapping her cheek with a long black fingernail. "I'd love to hear more about him."

The boy next to her glances up from his book at this. He eyes the girl disdainfully before warning Felix, "I wouldn't go throwing that bit of information around, if I were you. Unless you want to get yourself hexed."

"What does that mean?" asks Felix confused.

"It means he's a coward," sneers the girl with diamond-like eyes and she flicks the boy with the book hard on the temple. The boy turns on her, snarling. They draw wands so fast Felix barely sees it and he flinches involuntarily.

The prefect intervenes. "Enough," he commands. "We don't eat our own."

The girl and the boy glare at each other, but lower their wands. Felix gazes at the prefect in awe.

The prefect crosses one leg over the other comfortably and addresses Felix. "What he means, Rosier, is that a lot of the students and staff here are related to people your cousin has killed. All in the name of the cause, of course, but still...you're not likely to make friends with anyone outside of the house by dropping his name."

Felix furrows his brow. "I don't understand. Aren't most people on our side now? My father says it's only ‘the dregs’ left."

The diamond-eyed girl chuckles at this. It makes Felix shiver.

"He isn't wrong. But the dregs make up a sizeable proportion of this place," she says scornfully.

When Felix continues to look puzzled, the prefect again interprets. "While the real war may be going in our favour, the school has not yet been cleansed. There are three other houses, each full of mudbloods and traitors who will hex you as soon as look at you just because you wear green. If they find out who your family is-"

"Let's just say, they'll attribute it a less pleasant sort of honour," the girl finishes. She mimes throwing a curse at Felix using her finger as a wand. He flinches again, visibly, and she laughs at him.

"Don't worry, Rosier," the prefect reassures him. "You're in Slytherin now. We're our own family here. We watch out for each other, have each other's backs. Never forget that." He puts an arm around Felix's shoulder and squeezes lightly. "It's why we're the top house."

A tingling warmth spreads through Felix's chest at the physical contact, burning away the nervous tension. The older students continue to chatter, but Felix only half-listens, focused on enjoying the feeling of belonging that he's craved for so long.

Winter 1980

"So, you're Felix Rosier," the older boy chuckles, straightening his green and silver tie. "Nearly had it there, didn't you?"

Felix scrambles to his feet, shame burning in his cheeks. He kicks aside the legs of the Gryffindor third year lying partly on top of him, immobilised by the older boy's timely jinx.

"Thank you," Felix pants, retrieving his wand from the floor.

"Bit old for you to go picking a fight with, isn't he?"

Felix scowls. "He's a mud-blood. He made a crack about my cousin."

The older boy makes a derisive chuffing sound and Felix looks at him more closely. Obviously in Slytherin, by his tie, but Felix hasn't seen him before. He's tall and well-built, exuding that casually confident air that Felix wishes for so desperately. He twirls his wand absently between his fingers, and Felix makes a mental note to practice that later.

"Mud-blood," repeats the older boy with something like amusement. "Listen kid, all that stuff about blood? It's a myth. Blood doesn't have anything to do with your magic."

Felix gapes at him. "But...my father says-"

" 'Rosier', right?" the older boy interrupts. "Yeah, you've got those old-fashioned sort of parents. Lots of people in our house do." The older boy motions for Felix to follow him and they set off down the deserted corridor. "Do yourself a favor," the boy continues, "Don't buy into all that rubbish. It'll hold you back from allying yourself with people who could be useful to you."

They come to a door at the end of the hallway, and the older boy opens it with a tap of his wand. Felix notices he doesn't have to voice his spell.

"Some of the most powerful wizards I know are muggle-borns. And the power of your magic is what matters." They step out into a hallway Felix has never seen before, and the older boy leads him toward a tapestry concealing a flight of stairs.

Felix isn't sure what to say. He's never heard anyone talk like this before. He realizes with a jolt that the boy must not be a Death Eater, the way he naturally assumes everyone in his house is.

"You don't work with the Dark Lord, then?"

"Nope. I only work for myself. Jump that step, it's a trick," the older boy warns, and Felix hops over the step in question hurrying to catch up.

"Choosing a side is just backing yourself into a corner," explains the older boy. He glances left and right before stepping off the staircase into a passageway Felix finally recognizes as leading to the dungeons. "Good guys and bad guys, right and wrong, that shit changes all the time. But you know what lasts forever?" The boy turns and winks at the open-mouthed Felix: "Treasure."

"What, like gold?" asks Felix, awe-struck.

The boy raises an eyebrow mysteriously. "There's all kinds of treasure, kid."

They've reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The older boy gives the password and the wall begins to open. He motions with his hand for Felix to go through.

"Aren't you coming?" Felix asks hopefully. He isn't sure he understands any of what the older boy is saying, but it's fascinating, and he doesn't want the conversation to end just yet.

The older boy shakes his head. "Nope. Things to do. Just wanted to make sure you didn't get yourself cursed on the way back. The halls are dangerous right now."

Felix hesitates. "Do you think...you could show me that jinx sometime?"

"Wish I could, kid, but between you and me? I don't think I'll be around here much longer." The older boy winks again, and sidesteps Felix before he can ask anything else. "But there's a book on dueling hidden in the artefact room. Look through it sometime. And remember what I said."

"I will," Felix assures him, wondering which of the many strange things the boy has said in their short conversation he's talking about specifically. Felix walks dazedly through the entrance wall, then remembers something and whips around.

"What's your name?" he asks as the bricks begin to close between them.

The older boy gives him a lop-sided grin. "Jacob Windsong."

Winter 1981

"You are Felix Rosier!" His father pronounces, giving the last name an emphasis bordering on reverence. "Rosiers do not give in the demands of peasants."

The first rule of the house is not to contradict his father. Felix knows this better than anyone.

"But my name doesn't mean anything anymore! Not to anyone at school! They-"

The sight of his father's drawn wand makes Felix's throat constrict and his voice fade away to nothing. His father lifts the wand to point at Felix's torso and he flinches involuntarily.

"Doesn't mean anything?" His father repeats the offensive words, his voice low and deadly. "It is a pureblood name of the most noble history. A leader even among the Sacred Twenty-Eight." His dark eyes flash with fury as he intones, "It means everything."

Felix's insides writhe in silent despair. He can't decide which he fears more: his father's wrath or finishing his second year at Hogwarts.

The two months since the fall of the Dark Lord have been chaos. It's open season on anyone with even the most distant death eater affiliation. Felix has lost count of the number of times he's been hexed in the halls, even by students in his own house, desperate to prove to the rest of the school they're not one of those Slytherins. We don't eat our own, his prefect had said. But that's all gone to hell now, and his prefect with it. Like most of the house, he disappeared before the holiday break.

"Beauxbatons is just as prestigious as Hogwarts," his mother ventures timidly from her chair near the fire. "And the estate in France needs caring for. Why not go where the name will be appreciated?"

His father turns his glare at his mother, who lowers her eyes like a dog.

"Because we've lost a battle, not a war." His father begins to pace. "The Dark Lord will return. And if he doesn't, someone else will rise eventually. I will not abandon the cause, nor let Evan's death be in vain."

He shoots a dark look at his son. His father had never made his preference for Evan a secret. He often remarked in Felix's presence how much more satisfactory Evan was in every way.

Jealously sparks inside Felix, rekindling his nerve. "Father, I don't want to go back. I want to go to Beauxbatons. I-"

His father stops pacing and revolves on the spot to face him.

Felix's voice falters. "Please."

His father does not speak until he's towering over Felix. His voice is so low it's almost a whisper, but Felix cringes at the fury behind each word.

"There are more important things than always doing what you want." For such a slight man, his father takes up an enormous amount of space. He's all Felix can see. "Want is for children. For lesser wizards. Those who do not have the weight of a sacred name to uphold. Do you understand?"

Felix nods.

"Answer me." His father's hand twitches toward his pocket where his wand is hidden. Felix gulps.

"Yes, sir."

His father grips Felix's chin and jerks his head up to look him directly in the eye.

"Evan is dead and I am in disgrace.” He says this without the least emotion. "As much as it pains me, you are the face of the Rosiers now." He relinquishes his grip on Felix, who keeps his eyes forward all the same.

"So, you will return to Hogwarts. You will excel. If they push you, you will push back. Harder. You will make the name Rosier great again. And you will not disappoint me. Do you understand?"

Felix's dread has not abated. It still sits in his stomach like a leaden weight. But there's something else growing in him now too. This is what he's always wanted. A chance to prove himself. To prove he's just as powerful as Evan was. That he can be what his father wants. That he is worthy of his name.

Felix lifts his chin a little higher, trying to mimic his father's perfect, imperious expression.

"Yes, sir."

Fall 1984

"You're Felix Rosier?" the Gryffindor girl called Angelica glares at him, arms crossed. "Cousin of Evan? Son of that bastard who bought his way out of Azkaban?"

Felix is on his feet, wand drawn in less than a second, but all three of the train compartment's other occupants are right behind him. The four new prefects size each other up, wands raised. The tall, lanky Ravenclaw prefect called Chester speaks first.

"Let's just all take a breath, okay? It we start dueling each other before we even reach school, they'll take our badges away." Chester sets his face grimly. "And I don't know about you, but I worked hard to be here."

Angelica and Felix regard each other warily, each lowering their wand at exactly the same time. The short Hufflepuff prefect called Jane mutters something that sounds like "Babies," before tucking her own wand away.

The train gives a lurch as it rounds a corner, and all four are forced to resume their seats before they topple over. A very tense silence follows. Felix keeps his face guarded, but his heart sinks into his stomach. This is exactly the sort of confrontation he's been dreading.

It's almost three years since the war ended, and the attacks in the halls have largely subsided. Slytherins still keep mostly to themselves, and Felix is no exception. But being a prefect has been his dream since his first year at Hogwarts, and he's not going to let anything get in the way of that.

"So, we're supposed to look over the list of rules and banned items." Chester references the roll of parchment they've been given to review. "It looks like they've added a few this year. First is-"

Angelica interrupts him. "How are we supposed to work with him?" She gestures at Felix. "He's practically a Death Eater."

Usually, Felix wouldn't rise to the accusation, but he's on edge. "I'm no more a Death Eater than you are a muggle just because you're related to them."

Angelica calls Felix something that makes his eyebrows shoot up his forehead and causes Jane to let out an eerily high pitched laugh. Chester grabs Angelica's arm before she can draw her wand.

"Okay, that's enough." Chester looks back and forth between the Sytherin and Gryffindor. "How on earth will we set an example for our houses if we can't even treat each other with civility?"

Felix gives the Ravenclaw boy an appraising look. He knows Chester only by his academic reputation. The two of them have always been neck and neck for top of the class, and Felix has only ever regarded him with the same wary competitiveness appropriate to any rival. Now, he feels a grudging admiration for his fellow prefect's dedication to responsiblities over rivalries. It's an attitude he wants to emulate.

Felix slicks his hair down where pieces have come out of place and takes a deep breath, turning to face Angelica again.

"How about, I'll keep quiet about your family if you will about mine," Felix proposes, his voice as passive as he can make it.

Angelica narrows her eyes, inspecting him closely. Felix has the impression she's searching for a sign he's mocking her, and he keeps his face as conciliatory as possible. After a minute, she mutters, "Whatever," crosses her arms, and looks stubbornly out the window.

"Do you really not mind working with muggle-borns?" inquires Jane, her strangely bland eyes on Felix. It unnerves him how little expression can be gleaned from her facial features.

"I'll work with anyone as long as they don't get in my way of being Headboy," Felix announces.

"No promises there," warns Chester. "Slytherins aren't the only ones with ambitions."

"No, just the ones who know how to achieve them," retorts Felix.

The two boys size each other up across the compartment. Then Chester smiles and Felix smirks.

Angelica rolls her eyes hugely at them.

"How about a truce, then? Until sixth year at least?" Chester suggests, looking around at the other three prefects.

"Very well," agrees Felix solemnly, trying not to sound too eager.

Jane nods.

Angelica wrinkles her nose. "Fine." She leans over and snatches the roll of parchment from Chester.

The three other prefects sink back into their seats as Angelica begins reading off this year's newly banned items. Chester glances across at Felix and repeats his tired smile. Felix can't quite bring himself to smile back - it's not an expression he often indulges in - but he tries his best to look appreciative.

He allows himself to relax in his seat just a fraction, enjoying the heady sense of pride and accomplishment that emanates from the prefect badge finally pinned to his chest. This year, for the first time, Felix feels confident enough to handle anything Hogwarts throws at him.

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