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lune-hime · 4 years

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Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Tea Time #6

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

So these little Tea Times were written as little filler-memory chapters to place in between the main story line.

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Short and Sweet

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“Hey shorty have you finished signing off on these release forms?” Hange asked as she tapped into Levi’s office. Her question garnered crickets as he remained focused on his menial duties.

“Shortyyyy~?” She sang with a spring in her step as she entered and shut the large door. Levi paid as much attention to her as he did a fly perched upon his windowsill. He flipped over the last document and signed it.

“Captain short-stacks?” She prodded with an intricate skill at pressing his buttons.

“Fuck off shitty glasses.” He finally piped up aridly, his exhale ruffling the corners of his papers.

“I see you responded to the second one. I now endow you with this title-” Hange declared with a booming voice when a pen was thrown directly at her forehead. She barely caught it before impact and cackled at their childish antics.

“Oh come on, Levi. It’s a cute nickname for such a cutie patootie captain~” She cooed in an insanely sweet voice that made Levi feel like he was overdosing on rotten corn syrup.

“Coming from you, using me and cute in the same sentence is revolting. It would be a shame if I were to vomit on these documents.” He gagged in unamusement as he flicked his wrist which held the folder towards her. She gladly accepted it with a shit-eating grin.

“Well that wouldn’t hurt anyone other than yourself would it, shortkins?” She countered playfully. With the swiftness of a veteran scout, Hange poked Levi in the head with his pen and dodged out of range of any punches he could have thrown.

“Thanks Levi Shortyman, see you at breakfast!” She yelled over her shoulder as she skipped out of the room. Levi released his broiling irritation like a simmering kettle with a deep breath and attempted to rub the pet names out of his temple.

After a strenuous day of training the new batch of cadets that ran from the crack of dawn to a little over an hour ago, you found yourself in the kitchen babysitting a kettle of hot water. Leaning against the counter, you rested your head in your hands as the gentle humming of the stove sang you a lullaby.

“There you are.” A low voice dragged you out of your temporary humid home. Turning your head, you lazily smiled at Levi and gave him a languid wave.

“Tired?” He asked rhetorically as he approached. You nodded once and picked your head up out of your palms.

“Who knew training 30 inexperienced teenagers would be this taxing.” You exhaled. He tutted his tongue and came to lean against the counter next to you, his lower back resting against the cool surface. He regarded you as what little vigor you had left drained out of your body and into the wiggling kettle. A part of him desired to uncross his arms, scoop up your deflated form, and let his shoulder support your sleeping head. Much to his frustration, not even your exchange of fresh confessions could not fully decimate his wall of, dare he admit, awkwardness.

Of course he was experienced in fleeting romances; physical indulgences that ended with snips of threads. But he was a virgin to this type of love. Every touch to you was precious and he felt himself overcalculating his motions.

“Now you know how tiresome it was to train your group of brats.” The jest within his tone warmed his otherwise impassed features.

“I guess everyone is a brat until they capture your heart, Levi.” You pouted slyly and gave his arm a weak poke.

“No one has but you, idiot.” The casual nature of his tone even surprised him with how fluidly it slipped out of his mouth. The strangeness of dewdrops on a newly bloomed petal curdled between the two of you. Thankfully the shrill whistling of the kettle overpowered any bumbling reply you could have generated.

“What kind are you making?” Levi cleared his throat as you doused the stove and moved the kettle off of the flame to cool.

“A batch of chamomile for Hange and I. English breakfast for Erwin and Mike-they still need the caffeine tonight-and of course earl gray for you.” You struggled to suppress a yawn as you recited the flavors. Levi felt his bones soften to jelly at your thoughtfulness.

“None of your special tea this evening.” He mused with disappointment in his tone. You admired the scrunch of his nose that you knew he was oblivious to.

“Nah, I ran out a few nights ago.” You hummed as you began laying out five cups on the counter.

“You didn’t grab the tea bags yet.” Levi stated. With a spry push-off, he strode over to one of the many cabinets that overhung the counter. You smiled in appreciation and turned back to the hot water.

A clanking followed by a dull thump brought your attention back to him. The scene unfolding next to you caused you to inhale sharply and inflate your cheeks with your impending laughter.

Tiptoes propelled him upward just short of firmly grasping the tea tins. Two out of the 3 tins had been acquired in the lower cabinets but the remaining one was perched on the highest one on the shelf. Levi bounced on his heels once in an attempt to stretch his spine longer but he gained only enough height to allow his fingers to brush the bottom of the wooden chamber.

You silently observed him struggle with guilty amusement. In candid moments like these he was just so… adorable . When he stretched again, the hem of his crisply ironed shirt rode up and the downy smooth skin of his hip peeked out. His raven locks bounced with his body and just barely shielded his deeply furrowed brow.

“Which one of those lanky ass trees put them up so high?” He grumbled under his breath.

You really tried to spare his dignity. You really did. But you couldn't keep away any longer as he wiggled upward.

As you padded over to the little ball of anger you comically frowned deeply to continue to quell your impending giggle. Honestly you couldn't blame him for not being able to reach. That cabinet was placed so annoyingly high that even you were only barely able to grasp its contents.

Levi immediately halted his movements when he noticed your presence at his side. His head swiveled sideways and met your gaze with a childish frustration.

Holy fuck don't laugh.

Your gentle nudge pushed Levi to the side with a stiffness in his form. He eyed you as nabbed the tea tin in a single hop.

“Shorty.” You teased with a fond smile that was devoid of anything but kitten-like affection. Leaning down, you pecked him on the lips just before your giggle broke free from its imprisonment. Then you snatched the tins and returned to your brewing station.

Levi remained camped out on the other side of the kitchen. He felt a bubbling warmth swarm his cheeks as his mind replayed your honeyed voice saying the nickname he could care less for.

But when you said it, so sweetly and lovely... walls he felt whipped.

"Aww-why does she not get sass for calling you shorty?" Hange whined from the doorway. Her sudden appearance only fueled your laughter as you placed the tea leaves in their respective cups and began showering them in a hot bath.

Levi scowled at the woman and brought a hand to rub his jawline, masquerading his rosy cheeks from her pointed view.

“Your fucking off time has not expired yet, Hange.” His warning was muffled as you handed your old squad leader her tea.

Levi learned an important lesson that day: he didn't mind being teased if it was by you.

Honorifics

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“I’ll make sure he reads through these, Armin.” You smiled sweetly at the boy and he nodded with a grin of his own. Levi’s eyes flitted from you to Armin in a wordless manifestation of ~is that all~ from his desk.

“Thank you, sir.” Armin saluted and politely slipped out of the door to Levi’s office. You sighed peacefully as silence fell between you two.

“I’ll admit there tends to be interesting plans that come out of that coconut hair.” Levi commented and placed the papers aside.

“Thank you for giving his ideas an extra look, Captain.” You said, masking your fledgling slyness with nonchalant innocence.

Levi suddenly felt like he was being waterboarded when that single word left your lips. His eyes narrowed as you rounded the corner of his desk and idly began flipping through Armin's plans.

"What did you just call me?" He pressed, feeling frozen as an alluring blend of bewilderment and desire swam through the ice of his surprise.

“What do you mean, sir?" You responded with a shrug. Your thumb preoccupied itself with the smoothness of the paper while your mind indulged itself in your fantasized musings.

“That.” He emphasized his speech with a crispness of a seasoned officer.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, captain. Maybe you misheard me.” You continued with an added layer of heated sultriness. Levi's initial shock had dulled to a buzzing hum as the atmosphere between you switched from feigned innocence to dripping in lust.

You hadn’t addressed him with honorifics since you had been promoted to a squad leader. The double entendre and impish aura had his head swirling with an exhilarating dizziness of lust and vigor. Levi bit the inside of his cheek as he watched you discreetly press your thighs together, trying to keep yourself from seeming just as needy as he was beginning to feel.

And walls the way your eyelashes fluttered like a doe’s to the bashfulness of your posture was all so very- submissive. It excited Levi’s nerves and stirred his legs to twitch in anticipation of contact.

“Then why don’t you come over here and repeat yourself so I can hear you clearly.”

He pushed off the desk and swiveled in his chair to leave his lap exposed to you. You greeted his invitation with a smirk and painstakingly slowly made your way over to him. You grasped the arms of his chair and swung your legs over his, hovering over his lap for a moment to deprive him of his much desired contact. He almost let out a noise of frustration when you finally settled into him, smugly rocking your hips forward as you scooched into his chest.

“Can you hear me now, sir?” You cooed at the shell of his ear and gently nibbled on the soft flesh of his earlobe. He exhaled as your mouth moved southward.

Levi gulped. Your syrupy words and steamy breath began heating his insides from the nape of his neck. He felt himself twitch upward as your plush thighs once again rubbed against his straining erection.

A wave of satisfaction rushed through you when you felt how hard he was already. He wasn’t always very vocal in his desires as a lover. But with each passing day you became more intimate with what made him tick and could instantly tell he was beginning to enjoy this power play. He had been powerless over many things in his life, and in the most primal yet nurturing way, the thought of lording over you with pleasure drove him wild.

Levi felt like his body was screaming with this invigorating rush of arousal. It was a sensation you had given him countless times before. But the feeling of power that you were inflating into him blanketed him in a new rush of exhilaration that had butterflies flitting against his chest.

Quickly catching onto your plan to tease him, he was not going to let you get away with it. He was your captain , after all. He suddenly clasped your hips with a force that made you whimper. He adjusted you so that your hot core was pressed intoxicatingly close to the taught muscles of his thigh.

He regarded you, pupils dilated, as his hands forced you along the expanse of his thigh. Your hips instantly responded to his actions, rolling yourself against him as sparks began flying through you.

“Hmm. Is this what you wanted your captain to do?” Levi hummed lowly, bouncing his leg upward as he ground your hips harder onto him. Your lips detached from his neck as your head fell to his shoulder, the sweet friction making it hard to focus on anything else.

“I-dammit Levi I was the one who was supposed to seduce you.” You moaned breathily; a mixture of defeat and excitement as his movements further ignited your bundle of nerves.

“I’d say you were pretty successful.” Levi praised, leaning in to capture your wanton lips with his own. The kiss deepened to match the fervedity that glued you to one another. The sinfulness of the way your body gave into his guidance and the lingering awareness that the two of you had forgotten to lock the damn office door only fueled his rough touches.

“I still haven’t gotten an answer to my question, brat.” He reluctantly broke away, humming with a hungry gravel as he squeezed your ass with passionate intent.

When you didn’t answer, Levi tightened his hold and rocked his hip so fluidly that you felt like you were caught in a current of bliss. Both of you were drowning in the heavy petting; you relishing in the pleasurable friction that his muscular thigh brought your clothed core and him feeling your wetness through his trousers as he brought you teetering over the edge with just a flick of his leg and a roll of his hips.

Your plan had instantly backfired, and although you were the antithesis of complaining, it felt lewd to express your desires aloud. But by the way his eyes bore into yours, dripping with metallic lust and silently commanding you to tell him made you whimper and grind against him with even more desperation.

“Tell me.” Levi huskily instructed, immediately halting his flow and keeping you agonizingly still. Your legs were softly shaking at the loss of contact, hands balling the fabric at his shoulders.

Electric tendrils bounced freely in the space between you as you looked down at him, your chest heaving and panting.

Wordlessly your hand reached for his. Your intertwined palms moved up your torso, brushed over your breasts, and stopped at your neck. Levi felt your rapid pulse point under his thumb and his own heartbeat became erratic. His eyes widened at your bold move.

His grip lay loose, hesitant against the sensitive area. Hurting you, especially accidentally, was the last thing he wanted to do. As a child he saw how his mother was mistreated, cast aside and abused by hungry men. But the way your teeth toyed with your plush lips and your eagerness to retake your spot on his thigh caused blood to rush from his head down to his cock. You gave him a willing smirk. If you wanted him like this he would gladly give it to you.

“Make me cum.” Your voice oozed with silken demand while your neck craned to expose the smooth flesh to his palm.

And just like that, the electricity crackled.

Levi slammed you back down onto him and guided you at a heavenly pace while his other hand applied pressure to your neck. He almost came himself as he watched you unfold on the precipice of your ecstasy; writhing in pleasure under his control and using him to chase your orgasm beneath his grip.

You didn’t need to vocalize with words that you were close for Levi to know. The nectarous moans of his name and the erratic nature of your thrusts were sensory overload for him as he unbuttoned your pants.

In exchange for slowing his pace a bit, he slipped his free hand into your underwear. He reveled in your high-pitched gasp when his coarse fingertips made contact with your clit. The combined warmth and pressure from Levi's hands on opposite ends of your body catapulted you into your orgasm as you rutted against his thigh. Your vocal cords vibrated in sensuous moans against his constraint.

As you recovered from being perched on your high, he brushed his thumb lightly up your neck and let it rest along your cheek. He peered at you dazed in the afterglow of want and appreciation. Teasingly, he wiggled his fingers over your over-sensitive clit and chuckled in amusement when you squirmed in place. With a delicate sweep that would put a painter to shame, he drew his hand out of your pants. The velvety knot recoiled in your stomach when Levi brought his slick fingers to his lips and sighed in contentment.

Oh you were so ready to wipe that beautiful smirk off of his face and reclaim what you rightfully started.

Your arms drew along the expanse of his arms, sliding you down and out of his lap until your knees pressed onto the chilled wood floor. Levi’s eyes trailed yours as you slithered downward, argent orbs darkening when you palmed his straining crotch.

You wasted no time in unbuttoning his pants and releasing his cock from its confines. His eagar member was glossy with precum, revealing just how much you had riled him up. Your tongue started at the base, licking a hot streak languidly up his shaft and swirling your strokes when you reached the tip.

Levi released a heavy breath when your mouth took him fully. As your head bobbed along his length, not once did he drop his head back as the pleasure began to build. Through his panting, lip-toying, nostril flaring, and eventual groan of euphoria, the molten silver within his eyes occupied your gaze. You watched as his brow knitted and features contorted in rhapsody all while his commanding focus lay unwavered. The forge fire raging in them held your head to him and made you flush under their intensity as you swallowed and released him from your mouth.

“I wish I had called you captain earlier.” You winked up at him, a blissful half smile forming on his features.

“Be careful what you wish for.” He chuckled and leant you his hand to help you up off of the ground.

#levi #levi x reader #drabble #LEVI ACKERMAN #AoT #aot imagine #aot x reader #aot fluff #snk #snk x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #hange zoe #jean kirschstein #bisexual jean #levi/reader

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rithmatistkalyna · 4 years

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Happy Republic of Two Systems Independence Day!

Guess what y’all, it’s time for tea flavored truffles. Specifically, Lavender Earl Grey, Jasmine Green, and Chai truffles. Now, I make chocolate truffles on a semi-regular basis and I’ve experimented with lots of flavors, many of which have been very good. I’ve been halfheartedly meaning to experiment with using tea as a flavoring for a while, but not getting to it because the tea flavors seem so delicate compared to the chocolate and I was sure the tea was going to be overwhelmed. Y’all. I could not have been more wrong. These came out amazing. I packed up a baggie of them and left them in the carport for one of my friends to stop by and pick up and she reported back that they were bliss. These recipes are going very solidly into my flavor rotations (and they’re also pretty simple and will be available under the cut). First though, pictures of the finished products.

It’s Ro2SID, so, naturally, we have to have eggs and chicks so that we can endlessly annoy Sphene:

peep peep peep peep!

In honor of the Athoek gardens, we have the lovely green and purple fish, and the red and yellow roses:

And, since the mold with the fish also has a turtle, a Propriety Turtle:

and now, without further ado, let’s jump under the cut for recipes and process pictures!

Ganache is the fancy word for chocolate that you’ve mixed with cream and maybe also butter and flavorings.

Tea Flavored Ganache:

~130 grams heavy cream (a little over half a cup using US measures, note that you’re going to loose some of this volume in the process)

~200 grams semisweet chocolate chips (about 1 1/4 US cups)

1 heaping tsp of your tea of choice. If you are using bagged tea, my guess is that 2 bags would be a good idea

Put the heavy cream in a tiny sauce pan and put it on the stove on low. You want it nice and warm, but you don’t want the cream to boil. Stir the tea into the cream and let it simmer and steep for a while. I didn’t time it, but I got it set and then went off and browsed tumblr for a bit, so... You want the cream to taste distinctly of your chosen tea. It’s going to take longer than it usually takes you to brew a cup of tea because we are going for low and slow brewing here. Once your cream is nice and tea flavored, get a bowl with the chocolate chips and pour the warm cream through a tea strainer over the chocolate. Use a spoon to mash the tea in the strainer to get as much of the cream as possible through. Between the water that has boiled off of the cream and the cream that the tea absorbed you should be somewhere in the ball park of 100 grams of cream. Don’t stress about getting it exactly. In the three batches I made I ended up slightly over and slightly under. It’s fine. Carefully stir the bowl of chocolate chips and warm cream. The cream should melt the chocolate so that, with patience you can get it blended to a nice homogenous mixture. If your cream is cooler than mine (or the chocolate is colder, or the ambient temperature of the room is too low, or...), the chocolate might not melt entirely. If this happens pop the bowl in the microwave for about 15 seconds, or put it over a double boiler on the stove for a bit. The resulting mixture is your truffle filling. It’s going to be fairly runny right now, but if you let it cool for a bit it will thicken up enough to pipe, and if you chill it it will solidify enough to scoop and roll.

Note:

In general, for truffle filling you want a mix of chocolate and cream that is approximately 2 parts (fairly dark) chocolate, 1 part cream by weight. This will make a nice creamy truffle filling that melts in your mouth but also sets up well if it’s reasonably cool. If you are new to candy making, it might be easier to shift that ratio a little more toward the chocolate. If you are adding an additional liquid flavoring you would want to cut back on the cream. Sometimes my goal is a firmer filling for whatever reason, but this is the ratio I used for these.

Pictures time:

The Lavender Earl Grey tea I used. It’s a Kroger brand. The lavender in it was very subtle. A traditional Earl Grey would be just as good. It’s reminiscent of orange chocolate, but so much better and far, far easier than the attempts I’ve made in the past at doing a citrusy chocolate truffle.

We’ve got a local world market that is a giant warehouse of a grocery store and that’s where I got this tub of Jasmine pearls. You wouldn’t need to use pearls, its just what I happened to have on hand.

I don’t have a good picture of the chai - one of my friends brought the tea I used back for me when she visited India and it came in a bag that I dumped into a mason jar. It’s not particularly photogenic, but it’s delicious.

You want a heaping teaspoon of the tea to go in your cream.

Once it is simmered with the tea, strain the cream into your bowl of chocolate chips. I started with 200 g of chocolate chips, so once I strained the cream here I ended up with 94 g. That’s absolutely close enough.

Stir til it’s nice and smooth. Now you have truffle filling! (or, you know, eat it with a spoon, or put it on ice cream, or spread it on a scone or toast or something).

If you want to do molded truffles like the ones in the first part of this post, set the filling aside to cool off and set up a bit and get your mold out.

I got this egg mold on clearance after Easter at Michaels a few years ago. Here you can see that I’ve melted candy melts in a tiny mason jar. It’s not strictly necessary, but if you get a tub of EZ Thin and add a bit it definitely will make this easier. I’ve used a small paint brush (that is designated only for food things) to start painting the yellow details in the depressions of the mold.

For the two tone roses, I didn’t actually fill the depressions like I did for the eggs. Instead I aimed to get the yellow down in the deepest parts of the crevices, but left it so you can see the pink mold sticking out. When adding the red (or the green I added to the eggs after the yellow) the goal becomes to make sure the mold is covered and you can’t see it peaking through.

For extra structural integrity, add a layer of melted chocolate. If you want you can absolutely skip the candy melts step and go straight to coating the molds with chocolate. You can also skip the chocolate and just use candy melts as your coating. As you can see, I have my chocolate in a larger mason jar, which can either be microwaved or set in a water bath to heat and melt the chocolate. If you want really professional chocolates you can mess with tempering. If you just want something delicious it isn’t necessary, so I’m not going to go into the details here. There are two key things to keep in mind when working with melted chocolate:

1) Chocolate actually burns pretty easily, so be careful not to get it too hot. If it’s too runny it also won’t coat the mold well - you want it liquid, but still kind of thick. If you get it too runny, you can add more solid chocolate as you stir to help it cool down faster (a very careful version of this is also, incidentially, how to temper chocolate).

2) Chocolate and water are not friends. If you are using a water bath, be very careful not to get water in the chocolate. If you do, the chocolate will seize up clumpy and not want to melt nicely again. You can use seized chocolate to make more ganache, but not for coating.

Once the chocolate hardens (either because you were patient or because you stuck it in the freezer for a few minutes to speed it up), add the filling almost-but-not-quite to the top of the mold-you want to be able to seal the filling in. You can spoon it in, but the easiest way I’ve found is to scoop the ganache into a ziplock baggie, cut a tiny triangle off one of the corners and pipe the cool but not cold filling in. If your room is warm, room temperature is fine. If it’s cold, you might want to hold the baggie of chocolate in your hands and let them warm it up a little before you try to pipe.

If your room is cool enough you can just let the filled truffles sit for a bit, or you can pop it in the fridge or freezer so that the filling firms up nicely. Once it’s firmed up, use melted chocolate to finish filling the molds and seal in the filling. Unfortunately I failed to get a picture of that step. Then you get one last round of chilling/patience and your chocolates are ready for you to carefully pop them out of the mold. Be especially careful if you are doing something like the turtle that has limbs that are easily broken off.

Hooray! Extra delicious homemade chocolate truffles!

But Kaly! What if I don’t have a chocolate mold?!

No worries! I made chocolates for a couple of years before I discovered that chocolate molds were a thing you could buy at the craft store. I’m going to use a silicone mat in the next picture, but I’ve absolutely used a cheap plastic plate or parchment paper and had it work just fine!

On the right you can see the naked truffle fillings. I chilled the bowl of filling in the fridge until it was like firm clay and then used a spoon to scoop out small bits that I rolled into balls in the palms of my hands. This ends up warming them back up a bit, so once you have a batch rolled, pop it in the freezer for a couple minutes. Then carefully dip each filling one at a time into your melted chocolate. and set it on your mat/plate/parchment paper to cool and dry. The first time you try this you will likely get chocolate everywhere. Just be aware it’s going to happen and embrace the delicious mess. With practice you can get less messy. You can also roll the truffle fillings in something like finely chopped nuts or cocoa powder instead of dipping them. The green tea ones would probably be really good rolled in matcha powder!

If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

#R2SID2020 #ro2sid 2020 #ro2sid bingo #Imperial Radch #tea flavored truffles #Kaly Cooks #fandom candy #ro2sid candy part 2 #part 1 was candy emanations

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welcometoels · 3 years

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Session Eleven - Slathiel

And so, our adventurers completed their quest for the four items of power, and returned them to the entity known as Slathiel, as promised.

Or did they?

Something about this being rubbed certain party members up the wrong way. This, combined with the close personal connection each of them felt to one of the items, gave them pause.

Thus, a plan was hatched - each party member would speak to some of the friends they had made in town, and gather a little posse to speak to this so-called Slathiel - that way, if everything suddenly went wrong, they would have strong support in the ensuing battle.

Kadis makes the first move. Stepping into Jackie & Clutchstraw’s, he has a friendly chat with Drow artificer Aberron - who, understandably, still has a lot of questions. Kadis fills him in as best he can, and Aberron - after a quick consultation with his brass owl, Dominique - agrees.

Oddsock takes a more direct approach. Storming into the Dogwood Trading Post (Presented By Himself), he invites Jackie Face to come out and play. Jackie, though, has business in mind - specifically beer business. The market research has gone swimmingly, with the new hoppy brew going down especially well with the hard-grafting carpenters in town - in particular with the man who took the lead on building the Potions & Artifices shop: a man they refer to fondly as Jackies’ Hammer.

After agreeing that this would make a fabulous name for the beer, Oddsock gives Jackie Face a few more details about the upcoming fight. Face becomes uncharacteristically quiet, muttering under his breath about company values, teamwork and synergy, in a way the Dog finds strangely familiar. Suddenly, Jackie Face disappears into a large box of miscellaneous armour parts in the corner, and promises to see the team outside shortly.

Talion heads over to the Jaunty Skinner to speak to his new buddy and nighttime companion Freginald Biceppe. Being very well disposed towards both fighting and Talion - his two favourite things to do - Freginald needs very little encouragement to join the fray, and pledges his two meaty fists to the party’s cause.

On the other side of the pub, Julius finds Gyder at the bar with the latest in a line of foaming ales, and X at a nearby table, idly doodling couches with a distracted look on her face. Gyder has a new haircut - trimmed almost to the skin at the sides and back, with a asymmetrical fringe. It is the kind of cut that would look spiffy on an Elf, but serves mostly to accentuate the severity of her face. This may have been the point.

Julius approaches both with a panicked entreaty for help. X yelps and quickly hides her drawings, before asking what is wrong. After a brief, stuttering rundown of the situation from the Otter, X immediately agrees to assist, and turns to Gyder. The Half-Orc drains her ale in one swallow - game on.

Out in the town square, as everyone gathers, new companion Batch 38 Unit 12 is standing in conversation with Aberron Clutchstraw. The Helpforged cleric is going into extensive detail regarding their inner workings, while the Drow stands agog, in rapt attention.

Suddenly, from the Trading Post door, there appears a strange contraption: Half of a suit of armour, with raccoon faces peeking out from the neck and wrist holes, mounted on a unicycle. Jackies Left and Right clutch a katar and tea tray respectively, while Jackie Face shouts commands at Jackie Bottom’s madly pedalling feet. Jackie Middle is in there somewhere, doubtless horribly warm at the heart of the hastily-assembled Mecha-Jackie.

Standing in the deepening dusk and watching with a sense of bemusement as this all take place, Slathiel now commands attention. An agreement was made, a quest given and accepted, yet no items of power have yet been presented. Folding their six golden arms and flapping their wings, Slathiel requests them once again.

It is now that the party begins to ask questions that had been festering since their first encounter - specifically about who Slathiel is, and what they need the gems and lanterns for - but Slathiel is not in an answering mood.

Talion laments his lack of a Detect Good & Evil spell, and 38/12 - helpful by design - twists the spell focus on their chest to the left, lighting up several magical runes imprinted on their body. With a wave of their hand, the verdict is announced:

“This entity before us is... Evil.”

With that, Slathiel’s demeanour changes. Unfolding their mighty ruby wings and taking flight up to the roof of the Jaunty Skinner, their form too begins to alter: The six golden arms merge into two thick, grey, scaly limbs, their height increases and their head widens, with a mouthful of sharp teeth and two cruel eyes glaring down at the gathered people below.

The creature hunches forward on the roof, turning its hands about in arcane gestures. “I gave you the chance to do what I asked,” it says, “but you have chosen death.”

From its scaly hands it shoots a Fireball, straight at 38/12. The Helpforged dodges the worst of the blast, but Kadis and Aberron are less fortunate, finding themselves close to death.

Worse still, Dominique is hit full force by the flames, and is shattered to pieces - a pile of broken brass and a single bright gem lying where the owl once was.

38/12 does their best to apply healing, while X dashes over to assist and Aberron, recovering from the loss of Dominique, conjures up an Eldritch Cannon to imbue those nearby with bonus health. The Jackies make a decent fist of pedalling in roughly the right direction, whilst buffing themselves with the Power of Commerce.

Deeper into the fight, those that can fire projectiles do so, to varying levels of success. Kadis dashes round to the side of the inn with the intent to scale it, and Julius cast Faerie Fire on Slathiel, lighting it up like a festive tree. Having achieved this, he transforms into a giant Wolf Spider, and begins to climb the front of the pub.

Slathiel, infuriated by this affront, descends, in order to bring the fight to the party. Freginald takes this as his cue, and makes with the fancy footwork and fists to the face. Talion lends his rapier to the fray, Gyder strides forth with her greataxe, and X conjurs up a spiritual weapon to assist.

Julius, abandoning the wall plan, drops his spider form and brings up a Moonbeam of radiant energy upon Slathiel, while Aberron moves in to support, Oddsock makes ready with Blasts both Eldritch and Searing, and the Jackies roll out in entirely the wrong direction.

Kadis, hearing the decent of Slathiel around the corner, attempt to jimmy open one of the Jaunty Skinner’s windows, with little success. He does, however, attract landlady/mayor Tiatha Rowe’s attention, and asks her to fetch a lantern from the wall and bring it to him.

As all of this goes on, a terrible shout is heard from the south. The figure that appears is familiar, but somewhat worse for where - green-scaled Dragonborn in dirt-covered robes, with a ragged sword wound at his throat.

As he charges in, he shouts after the monk who took his lantern. The body may be Graindude, but the voice is pure Aberraton Mortesque.

He is a distant concern for now, out on the edge of town. There are more pressing matters, such as the giant lizard who is now bearing down on Freginald, to terrible effect.

Fortunately, 38/12 is on hand to provide healing, while X lets rip with a Guiding Bolt. Talion and Gyder cut away as Julius’ Moonbean shines down, and the Jackies nearly make it to the battle.

Back inside the Skinner, Tiatha has reached the window and hands a torch out to Kadis, along with a request that he try and keep the fight out of her pub. This request becomes harder to fulfil, as Barty appears from the back.

Seeing the carnage on his doorstep, something changes inside the affable Gnome. He pulls out his meat cleaver and carving knife, bellows several nautical oaths into the air, and charges forth with the rage of a sea storm.

Slathiel rears away from this new attack, and launches its fury at Freginald once again. Undeterred, the brawny fighter hammers a fist straight into its jaw, smashing its head with furious vengeance and showering the inn’s chef with gore - which he loves.

And Lo! What sight do we see here? Losing control of the unicycle once again, the Jackies charge, by accident more than design, straight into the advancing corpse of the reanimated Graindude. They set about his rotten head and shoulders with bites, jabs and tea tray slaps.

As this furious (and inadvertent) melee ensues, Kadis puts into action his torch plan. Sharpening the unlit end, he channels his apple-lobbing skills and smashes the torch in the direction of the corpse... and misses completely.

Another fine plan foiled by the Dice Gods.

Fortunately, his friends are on hand with less convoluted fighting styles, and before long the revenant falls under fist, axe, rapier, raccoon, cutlery, magic blasts, and a final scourging strike from the Moonbeam, showering everyone with rotten Warlock.

Finally, quiet falls over Dogwood square. Barty goes to draw a bath, and Aberron picks up the gem that used to be Dominique, promising to remake her better than ever.

The others simply stagger about, congratulating each other on a fight well fought, before becoming silent.

The whole world becomes silent. Then, it begins to fade from view, and nothing can be seen, heard or felt around our party of four.

The round red gem and silver lantern rise from their keepers, and float in the air, joined in this negative space by the blue gem and green lantern. As they float, they begin to dance in a slow circle above the party’s heads.

And then a voice. A slow, calm, pleasant voice.

“Well done. You were very good, very entertaining, wonderful to watch. You were not fooled by that creature, and you have forged a beautiful bond as a party.

“We will meet again, I’m sure, elsewhere in this world. But for now, I will leave you with a gift.”

The gems and lanterns begin to change form in the space above their heads. The blue gem shrinks into a perfect blue pebble, and attached itself to Julius’ necklack, next to Pa McGinley’s charm; the green lantern becomes a small black and green egg, and sets itself next to Kadis’ cursed idol; The silver lantern flattens itself into something that could be a plectrum or a silver dragon scale, and hangs beside Talion’s jagged onyx charm; and the red gem becomes a gleaming red bottle cap, which hangs on to Oddsock’s leather tunic, at his neck.

Finally, the remains of Slathiel swim into view, and a perfect golden gem emerges from its skull. This too undergoes a transformation, into a tiny golden gear, which lands in Kadis’ hand.

“There is one more,” says the disembodied voice. “Make sure this gets to them.”

The world then rushes back into view, but not quite as it was. The dusk sky is subtly different in colour - more vibrant than before - and way off to the south stands a tall spire.

It is completely unfamiliar to Oddsock, though Julius may once or twice have seen it on the far horizon, and Kadis and Talion will have heard tales of it - the tallest tower in Els.

It is Barty, though, who speaks.

“Monthend Spire,” he says, his voice filled with awe. “Now I know where we are.”

#dnd #dnd homebrew #5e

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inmyownlittlecorner5 · 5 years

Text

Moonlight Chapter 14: Cruciatus

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 14/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Thirteen+

Chapter Fifteen+ >>

Severus worked steadily in the Lee’s potions room, his movements as controlled and methodical as if he had been at Hogwarts brewing without a care in the world. A batch each of Blood Replenisher and Wound Reducer bubbled quietly in the cauldrons before him. It was a peaceful scene from the outside and one would never know by looking at him that the usually aloof man was fairly sick with worry and anger within.

How was it that Miranda had managed to disappear within twenty minutes? Why did she possess this special talent for getting herself into trouble? How long could she possibly hope to survive living her life this way? And how long could he stand the anxiety of waiting for her to return either maimed or dead? It was one thing to face danger and death himself; that he was used to. But he had never been comfortable with the idea of those he cared for facing the same. Not that he was admitting to caring overmuch for her—no, not at all. But he found that his mind kept creating worse and worse scenarios, all of which ended with Miranda being murdered by the Dark Lord.

He had been watching the clock obsessively for the last hour and a half, impatiently waiting for two o’clock in the morning. at two, he would go and demand that Mrs. Lee send an Auror after the idiot Americans. Why was Aaron Lee so incompetent that he couldn’t be trusted to keep track of Miranda for a few hours at a party? Severus couldn’t be expected to watch the fool woman every moment. Even when he was watching her, it didn’t seem to do much good.

At one minute before two, he decided he had waited long enough. He set a cold, intimidating expression on his face and started out of the potions room to frighten Mrs. Lee into doing what she should have done an hour ago. His hand was on the doorknob when the silence in the flat was broken by the slamming of the front door and the obnoxiously loud singing voice of Mr. Lee.

“My Cindy got religion, she had it once before! But when she hears my ol’ banjo, she’s the first one on the floor!”

Aaron’s voice resounded through the flat and Rachel and Miranda’s laughter soon mingled with it. Relief rushed through Severus so strongly that he put a hand on the doorframe to steady himself. If Miranda was laughing, then she was alive and probably not terribly injured. He felt as though he could draw breath for the first time since he had realized she was missing. He turned back to the cauldrons, wanting to compose himself before he went out into the fray. The three Americans were talking so quickly and laughing so loudly that it was impossible to understand anything they were saying through the closed door. It was just as well. He needed a moment of quiet before he could face them.

He was not quite ready when he heard the door to the potions room open.

“Sorry I’m late,” Miranda said cheerfully. “I hope you were nice to Rachel.”

“Being as I am working for her without pay, it would appear so,” he replied, his voice cool and even. He kept his back to Miranda and his eyes on the cauldrons. Now that he had absorbed his initial relief that she was alive, he had time to be properly angry at her.

“Oh, don’t be angry, Severus. I have a good excuse.”

Her lighthearted tone only made him angrier. “Don’t you always?”

She sighed with what sounded like exasperation. “Honestly, don’t you think you’re being a bit unfair? Are you actually angry at me because I inconvenienced you?”

“No,” he answered. His voice was quiet, but he used it like a whip. “I am angry with you because thanks to your inability to follow simple instructions, I have spent the last two hours assuming that you were being tortured and killed.”

He heard her come into the room and felt her put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s much easier to face the danger than it is to wait for someone to come back from it,” she said. “I’d rather do the former than the latter myself.”

He finally looked at her and couldn’t quite keep his face from showing how startled he was by the state she was in.

“Bathing in the blood of virgins again, I see,” he said dryly.

She smiled. “Your friend Lucius decided it was time to consummate our relationship with a duel. I was winning, so he dumped me in a pit with a tebo. I’d have been back an hour ago, but I couldn’t just leave all that wonderful hide there, now could I?”

He shook his head at her and said sarcastically, “No. I suppose you would have been a fool to leave it.”

She continued to smile and replied coaxingly, “I brought you a present too.”

He raised an eyebrow and noticed the large bag sitting on the floor by the door. It felt heavy when he lifted it onto a table for examination. He opened it slowly and his eyes widened a bit as he realized what it contained.

“I seem to remember an article you published a few years ago about how tebo parts would make stronger variants of certain potions. Unfortunately, they are prohibitively expensive,” she said smugly.

He stared at the perfectly butchered organs, hooves, and tusks all cozily nestled in their own pockets in the bag. His anger melting away, he lifted his head and his eyes gleamed at her.

She was reckless. She was barbaric. She was completely mad.

She was magnificent.

“As I said, you always have an excuse,” he repeated, his tone losing its bite. He closed the bag and started to pull her into his arms, but she inhaled sharply and flinched.

“What is it?” he demanded.

“Malfoy thought it would be fun to hit me with a bout of Cruciatus,” she answered, her voice starting to sound exhausted. “I’ve had better, but I guess the smoke and the adrenaline are starting to wear off. I’m afraid I’ve been a bit of a tease. I doubt I’ll be able to make good on my implied promise of physical bliss tonight.”

“I think it is time to take you home,” he said quietly.

With a flick of his wand, the bag rose into the air and hung there, as if on a string. He put his arm around Miranda’s shoulder to steer her out of the room. She flinched as his arm came in contact with her cursed body, but then she settled against him, apparently glad for the support. The bag floated obediently behind them as they came into the kitchen where Aaron and Rachel sat at the table, heads together like a pair of turtledoves.

“I think I’ve had all the fun I can handle for now,” Miranda said with a tired smile.

“It was just like old times, wasn’t it?” Aaron replied, grinning at her. “Leave what’s left of your wand here. I might be able to find traces of the curse on it.”

“I’m not planning to press charges against Malfoy.”

“I figured that. But I think it’s a good thing to have in our pocket, just in case.”

She shrugged and fished out the pieces of her wand.

“How encouraging to see that you take such good care of your things,” Severus said as she tossed them on the table.

She rolled her eyes at him. “It broke when I fell into the pit. Actually, I don’t mind. Now I can replace it with an unregistered one.”

“Your wand is registered?” he asked incredulously.

“All wands in America are registered and it’s a royal pain.”

“How draconian.”

“Well, you can bet I won’t register my next one unless someone makes me.”

“I’m not hearing this conversation,” Aaron said pointedly.

Severus frowned. “I believe that Mr. Ollivander takes his vacation at this time of year. I doubt you will be able to replace it until late next week.”

“I guess you’ll just have to baby-sit me until then,” Miranda teased.

“Or you can leave her here,” Aaron said with a wink. “We’re used to her antics.”

Severus gave Aaron a withering look. “I suppose I require some sort of trouble to occupy me during the Holidays.” He gave Rachel a short bow and added, “Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Lee.”

“You’re welcome professor,” Rachel replied good-naturedly. “Although I think you should call me Rachel. Those of use who know the difficulties of managing these two have to stick together.”

Severus wasn’t sure he cared for the American’s casual address, but he wasn’t sure he cared to alienate her either. He gave her a noncommittal nod and flicked his wand at the second bag of tebo harvest that sat on the kitchen floor. Then he guided Miranda out of the flat with the bags floating behind them. When they reached the street, a fog blew in by way of an unfelt breeze. It was oddly warm as they walked through it, and when they emerged on the other side, they were standing on the lane leading to her cabin. She was limping openly by then, so he lifted her as gently as he could and carried her the rest of the way. She flinched and started to protest at first, but then she gave a sigh of resignation and laid her head against his shoulder.

After they entered the cabin, he deposited her on the sofa and drew her a bath. He rummaged in the potions closet, muttering irritably about its disorder. No matter—he would remedy that problem tomorrow. It took some time, but he eventually found a bottle of dittany and a measure of healing herbs. He added the latter to the bathwater and then went about the task of removing Miranda’s bloodstained clothing. She did what she could to help, but it was obvious that movement was becoming more and more difficult for her as the night progressed. He ended up carrying her to the bath as well, and she did not bother to argue.

A quiet moan of pain escaped her lips as she slid into the hot water, but once the initial shock passed, she relaxed into the tub. He applied a dose of dittany to the gash on her arm and then took down her tangled hair. She closed her eyes while he combed it with deft, practiced motions and by the time he had finished, she had started to doze off. He woke her reluctantly before she was completely asleep and helped her out of the bath. She leaned heavily against the wall while he dried her and dressed her in a cotton nightgown. Her face was pale and drawn with pain by then, so he picked her up a third time and carried her like a child to the bed.

He puttered around the cabin for another hour or so, storing the tebo parts for processing the next day. He thumbed through an American book on potions and indulged in a glass of wine from the bar. The potions in the book involving native flora intrigued him and he wondered how many of the plants might grow in England. Perhaps he could drop a hint to Pomona about the more interesting varieties. To his pleasant surprise, he discovered one of his nightshirts in Miranda’s armoire. He felt a bit foolish that he was so pleased that she had kept it—much as he felt foolish for keeping the comb she had forgotten in his chambers in the drawer of the table next to his bed.

He changed and finally lay down next to her. The light of the setting moon filtered through the curtains and he marveled at how deceptively innocent she appeared when she was asleep. A lock of her hair had fallen across her face and he brushed it back as he studied her. He fully expected that she was going to be the death of him. But he was well aware that there were worse ways to die.

*****

It was late afternoon by the time Miranda awoke the next day. She stretched her aching body and climbed slowly out of bed, quite pleased with the previous evening’s events. As she paced her room to work out some of the kinks in her limbs leftover from the tebo toss, the scent of fresh bread and chicken soup wafted through the door. A bemused smile spread across her face and she recalled the time she had spent at Severus's house after the werewolf incident. He was a good, if utilitarian, cook and she was touched now--as she had been then--at the care he took of her when she was injured.

She decided it was a day for night clothes and pulled on her dressing gown before making her way to the bathroom to wash the sleep from her eyes. She spent a longer time than strictly necessary to comb and arrange her hair. As she braided just enough of it to keep it out of her eyes, she tried to control that giddy feeling that always threatened to overtake her when Severus did something thoughtful. His demeanor was so bristly most of the time and he worked so hard to act as though he didn't care a fig about her that his sporadic acts of tenderness knocked her a bit off kilter. They made her want to let down her guard in spite of how she had been burned by love in the past. But she doubted that was a wise thing to do with him. He seemed so tangled up inside that she hesitated even to consider offering him more than he might be able to appreciate. Especially when she was so ambivalent herself.

She did indeed find a pot of soup simmering on the stove when she emerged from the bathroom. Her stomach started growling as she gave it a stir and she dished herself up a bowl. She set it on the table to cool for a bit and noticed that Severus had already packed the tebo hide in a tub of salt to cure.

“I see you are remarkably lazy today,” he said as he appeared in the doorway of the potions room.

“And you are criminally industrious,” she replied, crossing to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her face up to be kissed. He obliged her, but handled her as though he were afraid of hurting her. She parted her lips to deepen the kiss and, while he made that strangled noise in his throat again, he pulled away.

“No,” he said sternly as he traced her lips with his finger. “You are going to rest today that I might have the full use of your body tonight.”

“If that’s the price of your cooking and cleaning, I guess it’s worth it,” she said playfully. She glanced over his shoulder and started at the state of her tiny potions room. Slipping past him into it, she saw that it was more than half empty. Most of the potions she had made were missing, along with all of the clutter. What was left was meticulously arranged and labeled in a cramped handwriting.

“What did you do to my potions room?” she demanded in a mock-angry tone.

“Your potions room was a disgrace to wizarding kind. I am in the process of making it acceptable, to which end I must make a trip back to Hogwarts for supplies. I don’t suppose it is possible for a civilized person such as myself to find this cabin without a barbarian to show me the way.”

She raised an eyebrow at him saucily. “I don’t know. If you decide to run away in a week or two because I’ve pissed you off it will be a lot of trouble to change the hearthstone.”

He gave her an exasperated look and she laughed at him lightly.

“Sit down,” she said. “I’ll take care of it.”

As he went to the sofa, she knelt stiffly in front of the fireplace. She waved her hand over the flames and they started burning a rich, deep red.

After a moment she thrust her hand into them, all the way down to the hearthstone. Gathering some of the ashes, she withdrew her fist from the fire. As soon as her hand was clear, the flames returned to their usual orange color. She pushed herself up off of the floor and brought the ash to Severus. She had to put a hand on his knee to steady herself as she knelt in front of him.

“Close your eyes,” she said.

When he complied, she smeared ash on his eyelids and then on his hands as well. Each bit of ash shown brilliantly white for a moment, and then disappeared into his skin. She knew it was burning him and pricking him like a thousand tiny needles, but she also knew it was not a painful sensation.

“You can open them,” she said when the ash had vanished. “Now when you Apparate here, you’ll be able to see the cabin and open the door.”

He smirked at her. “Am I still to be denied the famous Homing Spell?”

“I’m afraid so. Only family members can share a Homing Spell.”

“How sentimental.” He gave her his hand to help her up from her knees and onto the sofa, then he brought her the bowl of soup and some bread and butter to go with it.

“You will stay here until I return,” he said imperiously. “If I find that you have left this cabin, I will strangle you myself.”

“Your wish is my command,” she replied sarcastically, tearing into the food. It was delicious, but she didn’t want to further inflate his ego by telling him so. He gathered his cloak and pulled back her hair to kiss the back of her neck. She couldn’t contain the purring noise this elicited and he left the cabin with an expression of smug superiority on his face.

She enjoyed a leisurely meal and even helped herself to seconds. When she had finished, she cleaned the dishes and then read through Part VI of Song of the Lark. She didn’t want to start another novel straight away, so she examined the new, improved potions room. She would have to make an effort to maintain it after Severus had put so much work into reorganizing it. It amused her that he was so fussy about some things, but that was probably part of what made him good at potions in the first place.

The silence started to sound too loud, so she switched on the wireless. She fiddled with the dial for quite a while without finding anything agreeable, so she switched it back off and opened a drawer in the front of her desk. Out popped a small turntable and a pair of matching speakers. Another drawer revealed ten or so records and she flipped through them, debating about the kind of mood she was in. Finally choosing one, she set it spinning and a scratchy female voice filled the cabin.

“…You say that it’s over now…”

Satisfied, she went back to the sofa and fished out the most recent issue of the Quibbler from a stack on the coffee table. She lit a cigarette and settled in to read.

*****

“….Freedom is just another word for nothin’ left to lose…”

“What on earth is that loathsome din?” Severus demanded when he returned from his errands laden with packages.

She laughed. “Part of the soundtrack of my misbegotten youth. But we can listen to something else if you’d rather.” She pulled herself up from the sofa and took the needle off the record. After returning it to the drawer, she started flipping through the choices again, wondering what could possibly please the man.

He shook his head at her and started unpacking in the kitchen. “I find it ironic that the woman who lectures me about missing meals had let her own pantry dwindle so low."

“Oh, that,” she said nonchalantly. “You see, I’m going to be leaving the country soon.”

He stopped unpacking and turned to give her a withering look. “When exactly were you planning to give me that pertinent information?” His voice was soft, which meant he was, of course, getting angry.

She kept her tone light and her eyes firmly on the records. “I’d like to remind you that you’ve been entitled to know my business for less than twenty-four hours. During which time, I might add, I’ve bested Malfoy in a duel and single-handedly killed and butchered a tebo.”

“I don’t require reminding. Where are you going?”

She paused over the records, debating what to tell him. All the secrecy was beginning to get on her nerves and she wondered, not for the first time, why Albus had warned her against telling Severus much of her mission. If Severus was such an expert Occlumens, then why did it matter if he knew?

Finally she said, “I’m going to Romania. I went to Hogwarts the other night to ask Albus for help putting some distance between Malfoy and myself. Distance that I think is even more warranted after last night’s festivities. Albus pointed out that Romania is an excellent place to hide this time of year and, lo and behold, I received a tip about a large black dog and a Hippogriff keeping company around Săpânţa.”

“I see that you and Albus are now on a first name basis.”

She shrugged. “He gave me a cigarette and promised to pay me off when this charade of a case is over. I guess I’m easy.”

“I’m well aware of how easy you are,” he snapped.

His tone irritated her more than his words did. “You know,” she said cooly,“you could just say that you’re going to miss me instead of being nasty.”

He clenched his teeth and a muscle in his jaw started twitching, but he returned to unpacking the groceries without saying whatever insult had popped into his mind.

She pulled a record out of the drawer and went on, “I’ll be back for those monthly meetings, so it’s not as though you’ll never see me again. It’ll probably be better for your productivity anyway. I expect I’m a terrible distraction when I’m around.”

“I find that my productivity markedly improves after a bit of recreation,” he muttered. He added in a louder voice, “How do you intend to keep Lucius from murdering you at these farcical meetings?”

“By scheduling them so that Aaron can collect me when he goes to have lunch with his friend in the Ministry.” He glared at her and she quickly added, “On time too! Aaron knows I’m always on time to work obligations.”

“Somehow I find that difficult to believe.”

“You’ll just have to believe it.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I don’t really like it either, but I didn’t know that a war was starting when I took the job from Fudge and Malfoy. Even if I had known, I probably wouldn’t have been allowed to say no. There’s not much I can do about it now.”

“As you say.” He finished unloading in the kitchen and took the rest of the packages to the potions room as an awkward silence fell.

She sighed and called, “Do you like opera?”

“It is more acceptable than the trash you were playing earlier.”

She rolled her eyes. “Mama sent this one for Christmas. She and Papa went out to San Diego earlier this year to see it, so please keep at least half of your cutting remarks to yourself.”

“Now I will have to think of twice as many. What a bother you are.”

She set the record spinning and went back to the sofa and the Quibbler. The lush music slowly dissolved the tension in the air and Miranda felt her shoulders relax. After about twenty minutes, the soprano on the record launched into a melody that was so hauntingly divine that Miranda put down her magazine in order to listen more closely.

“…řekni mi kde je můj milý…”

She let her eyes fall closed as the music washed over her. Her mother had grown up with opera and her father had been wise enough to indulge the interest until he developed an actual interest himself. As the baby of the family and the only girl, it had been a very special thing when it was Miranda’s turn to put on a party dress and accompany her parents to the theatre. She didn’t understand much about the music, but she knew what she liked and what she didn’t care for. The one playing in the cabin now was definitely going to be one that she liked.

She opened her eyes in surprise when Severus joined her on the sofa, liner notes in hand. He was reading them intently, but he put an arm around her shoulders and she settled against him with a smile. He started idly stroking her hair and they sat there for a long time, listening to the music.

*****

They were sitting together on the sofa in much the same way two days later. It was an hour before the New Year and Severus was reading Dickens aloud under duress. He had protested that it was sentimental dreck and Miranda had argued that if one couldn’t be sentimental at Christmastime, when could one be sentimental? He wasn’t sure if it was her argument or her caresses that had swayed him, but there he was, reading about Scrooge’s encounter with the spirit world.

“ ‘Again the Ghost sped on, above the black heaving sea…’ ”

He flinched and dropped the book. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbows and the Dark Mark was clearly visible as it writhed angrily.

“Surprise party?” Miranda asked quietly.

“So it would seem,” he replied grimly.

Without another word, she got up to fetch his frock coat and cloak. He did not meet her eyes as he drew them on.

When he was ready, he said, “You should go to bed.”

“Of course. I’ll be asleep five minutes after you leave.”

He traced her cheek with his finger and walked out into the frigid night. After he had gone, Miranda lit a cigarette and sat back down on the sofa. She stared into the fire while she smoked, letting the flames hypnotize her. Without meaning to, she let her mind wander back to the that night when she had first realized what her father did for a living. She had been supposed to be asleep like all good seven-year-olds, but she had heard her parents talking and had crept to the top of the stairs to listen. After her Papa had left, Miranda had gone boldly down the stairs, demanding to know what a ‘bail jumper’ was and why Papa was after one. Mama had refused to answer at first, but Miranda had badgered her until she had explained. Miranda had asked if Papa would get hurt trying to find the fugitive. Mama had hugged her tightly and had said that Papa was very good at what he did.

Miranda shook off the memory and finished her cigarette. It wouldn’t do any good to dwell on the past. She was not a scared little girl and she would not admit to being a scared woman. Severus was good at what he did, too. He would be fine. And, if he weren’t, then there wasn’t much she could do about it at the moment anyway. She went to her tiny kitchen and started pulling ingredients out of the pantry.

*****

The anteroom was dark and cold as Severus waited for the Dark Lord’s pleasure. Since his return to bodily form, the Dark Lord no longer seemed to notice temperature and he did not trouble himself to keep his quarters comfortable for those mere mortals among his followers who did. He also did not trouble himself to keep any sort of furniture in the anteroom, and so the Death Eaters milled about awkwardly in the gloomy chamber, trying to act as though they were not apprehensive to enter the Dark Lord’s presence. Severus did this most successfully of the men gathered tonight. He had claimed a spot near the only window in the room. It was small and smeared with filth, but at least it gave him a place to focus his attention. His face was impassive as he stared out the window, motionless except for his breathing. Avery and Crabbe were also in the room, but they could not manage to keep themselves still. They fidgeted with their robes and paced restlessly. A few times they made abortive attempts at conversation, but every man in that room was too deep in his own concerns to care about any of the others.

It was impossible to say how long Severus would have to wait before the Dark Lord called him into the makeshift throne room. It was within the realm of possibility that he would be sent away without an audience tonight. It amused the Dark Lord to keep his flock off balance, and every one of his sheep was a close and familiar friend to anxiety. Once in a while, the wait was short and the meeting almost positive. Severus did not hope for such a meeting tonight. He wondered if he would be asked about the events of the Malfoy party, or if he were going to be taken to task about his association with yet another Muggle-born witch. These thoughts were not helpful to his composure, so he pushed them away lightly as they arose, like a breeze blowing away the clouds. As he did so, Miranda's face appeared in his mind, and he pushed that away too. This image was more stubborn than the others, so he called up Lily's face to replace it. He spent a long time picturing the exact shade of Lily's hair and recalling the lilting pitch of her voice.

When Lily was firmly fixed in Severus’s mind, Lucius emerged from the Dark Lord’s inner chamber. He gave Severus a contemptuous look, took up a spot as far away from the potions master as he could, and started whispering violently with Avery and Crabbe. Severus wanted to gloat over Lucius’s humiliation at losing so spectacularly to an American Muggle-born. He knew that Lucius was not a flexible thinker and wished he had been present to witness the older man’s floundering in the face of unfamiliar spells. He felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips and put a stop to such thinking. He needed to keep his mind blank. He let these amusing thoughts drift away and called up his memories of Lily and the desires of his youth.

*****

Miranda poured the scalding liquid swiftly into the pan on the counter next to the stove. The chocolate she scattered over it started melting instantly, and she gave her work an approving nod. She scrubbed the dishes, trying not to obsessively watch the clock. Severus had only been gone for an hour and she knew that clock watching would not bring him back any faster. By the time she had finished the dishes, the silence in the cabin was starting to agitate her. She put the final dish back in its place and went to the turntable. As the scratchy female voice started singing again, Miranda dug out a bucket and some rags to start cleaning. Nothing really needed to be cleaned, but it was a ritual she had learned as a child. When Papa was away, if the Roses could not sleep at night, they would clean the house from top to bottom. It had been a warm, companionable way to spend those long and sometimes frightening hours of the night. During the day, it was easier to believe that Papa would come home safely. Night was always harder to manage.

She started with the walls now, scrubbing and singing along with the record. She couldn’t stop her imagination from creating nightmare scenarios, but she didn’t have to dwell on them. She let the images flow through her mind like a river and refused to hold onto any of them. She focused her eyes on the grain of the wooden walls and forced her hands to notice how rough the wet rags felt. Severus would be fine. And, if he weren’t, worrying about him wouldn’t help. Best to wait and deal with whatever came when it came.

*****

Harry Potter and his friends would have been shocked to see their haughty professor kneeling like a slave before the Dark Lord. Indeed, Severus would rather have died than kneel to anyone else. In his youth, this posture had been acceptable to him because he had known that soon enough, he would have slaves of his own to give him obeisance; even as he paid his homage to the Dark Lord. Now it was simply part of the role he had to play in order to carry out the plan. It was humiliating, but the feeling of humiliation was familiar to him now, so he buried it deep with all of the other painful emotions that were not conducive to survival.

His mind was firmly in the past as he knelt on the hard wooden floor. He willed his knees not to give out before the Dark Lord got on with whatever it was that he wanted. Standing still for so long had made Severus’s legs numb, and the brief walk between the anteroom and the throne room had not been long enough to restore circulation. The pins-and-needles sensation was painful, but he remained still, his eyes hovering somewhere between the floor and the chair where the Dark Lord sat. Severus knew from experience that he had to keep his eyes available in case the Dark Lord wanted them, but he would not look directly at his master. This was something he did both as a sign of submission, and in the faint hope that if he did not offer the opportunity for Legilimency directly, perhaps the Dark Lord would decide not to invade his mind.

This turned out to be a vain hope, and Severus felt the familiar feeling of revulsion threaten to overtake him as the Dark Lord bored into his mind. He knew the feeling would pass though, and he let it wash over him like a wave. He allowed the memories and fantasies of Lily that he had called up in the anteroom swirl through his mind. He mixed in conversations with Albus and dull scenes of him teaching. He added the memory of him greeting Narcissa at the Malfoy party as a calculated risk. If the Dark Lord was planning to meddle with his relationship with Miranda, part of Severus wanted to know it now. But another part of him hoped that the Dark Lord was still unaware of her, and so he did not think of her directly.

After an unbearable time, the Dark Lord withdrew and Severus let his eyes drop completely to the floor.

“Do you never tire of that mud-blood woman, Severus?” the Dark Lord asked in his eerily high-pitched voice.

Severus did not answer because he knew he was not expected to. He kept his eyes on the floor and his face still.

“Do you know why I have called you here tonight?” the Dark Lord asked coldly.

“I am sorry to say that I do not know why I have been so honored, my Lord,” Severus answered humbly.

The Cruciatus hit him more quickly than he was expecting. He dropped to the floor, body contorted in pain. He let the pain wash over him, his mind focusing on the tip of his left index finger. He kept his mind there, curiously examining how much pain that one spot could hold.

When the curse stopped, Severus gasped for breath.

“Arthur Weasley is alive when he should be dead,” the Dark Lord said cruelly. “I am sure you know why.”

Severus knew that he had to answer, and he knew what his answer would bring.

“I am sorry to say that I do not know, my Lord.” His voice was shaky, but he was ready for the Cruciatus when it came this time. His mind was already on the tip of his finger, marveling again at its capacity to hold pain.

When the curse stopped, the Dark Lord hissed, “Weasley was given an anti-venom. An anti-venom made by you.”

“I am most humbly….” Severus began, but the Cruciatus hit him a third time. It was all he could do to keep his mind on the tip of his finger. The curse lasted until he lost consciousness.

*****

Miranda finished drying her hair and pulled on a nightdress and a dressing gown. The cabin sparkled from top to bottom and the toffee was stored away in a tin. She had plans for it, assuming that Severus wasn’t killed tonight. Her stomach was in knots and she started picking through her bookshelves for something to distract her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on a novel, so she pulled down Romanian in Conversation and opened it to the next lesson. She obediently parroted the phrases that Polyanna’s voice modeled from the book, but her mind was more focused on the slow ticking of the clock than it was on her da-s and nu-s. It had been more than four hours since Severus had left, not that she was counting. She started pacing and covered her eyes with her hands for a moment so that she wouldn’t be able to stare at the clock.

“România este o ţarā minunatā,” the book chirped.

She uncovered her eyes and directed them to the book as she paced. “România este o ţarā minunatā,” she repeated.

“Trebuie sā mai exersez la românā.”

“I thought I told you to go to bed,” Severus said in a tight voice as he stumbled into the cabin.

Miranda quickly closed the book and went to him. His face was white as a sheet and he leaned heavily against the door after he closed it.

“You didn’t say please,” she replied, keeping her voice even. She knew the last thing he wanted from her was pity.

He gave her half of a painful smile and she wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He flinched and resisted at first, but then he gave a sigh of resignation and put some of his weight on her. She helped him limp first to the bathroom, and then to to the bed. She brought him a glass of water which he took with a shaking hand and gulped greedily. She brought him another which he managed to drink more slowly, and then she knelt to remove his shoes. He gave a hiss of pain as she pulled them off, but did nothing to stop her. She undid his cloak and the buttons of his frock coat. Although she worked as gently as she could, he could not completely stifle a moan as she removed them. When she was finished, she helped him to lie down and pulled out a cigarette. She lit it and held it out to him.

“I am not going to smoke that vile thing,” he snapped.

“Yes, you are,” she answered firmly. “It will help with the pain so you can sleep.

He glared at her, but after a moment he relented and took it. He inhaled the first draught deeply and, as he exhaled, his face relaxed a bit.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” she asked.

He took another drag off the cigarette before replying, “No.”

She went to the other side of the bed and lay down next to him.

“Do you want me to touch you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She laid her head carefully on his shoulder. He flinched as he wrapped his arm around her, but then seemed content. The room was dark except for the moonlight filtering in through the curtain and the red point at the end of the cigarette. The smoke curled in the dim light and she lifted a finger, swirling it into patterns. After a long time, Severus said, “He didn’t say anything about you.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” she replied.

“I was.”

She frowned. “Do you think he knows about me?”

“I have no idea.”

She was quiet for a while and then said lightly, “I see the Dark Lord is less patient with your cheek than I am.”

He made a sound between a laugh and a groan. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Did he have a reason, or was this just for fun?”

She thought he wasn’t going to answer, but after a while he said, “He was angry that my anti-venom was used to save one of his intended victims. But he doesn’t require a reason.”

She closed her eyes and wondered how long Severus would be able to play this part. She knew that he was brave and tenacious, but it seemed like a lot to ask of a man.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said simply.

He made a scoffing noise as he blew out a line of smoke. “I’m surprised you would admit that.”

“Severus, I actually do like you. Most of the time anyway.”

“High praise indeed."

She laughed quietly. “I wouldn’t complain if I were you. It’s more praise than you’ve ever given me. And you’re already the most arrogant man on the face of the earth.”

“Fishing for compliments are we?”

She smiled. “From you? Why would I bother?”

He was silent for a long time, smoking down the cigarette. She went back to swirling the smoke into patterns with her finger, assuming that the conversation was over.

He surprised her, however, by saying finally, “I realize that your powers of observation are no match for mine, but surely you are aware that I think you are magnificent.”

A blush spread over her cheeks and that giddy feeling bloomed in her chest. But she kept her voice light as she answered, “Of course. That goes without saying.” She paused and then added, “You do realize with all your mighty powers of observation that women like to hear that sort of thing once in a while, don’t you?”

“What bothersome creatures you are.”

His voice sounded exhausted, so she didn’t continue bantering with him. He finished the cigarette, snuffed it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, and wrapped his other arm around her as well. Gradually his breathing slowed and before long he had dropped off to sleep. She lay there awake for a long time, listening to his heartbeat. She really didn’t know what she would call their relationship and she doubted that it was the sort of thing that could last until death did they part. But she felt that she wanted to hold onto whatever it was that they had for as long as she could.

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

End Notes:

“Cindy” is an American folk song

“Move Over” by Janis Joplin and “Me and Bobby McGee” by Fred L. Foster and Kris Kristofferson; both from Janis Joplin’s 1971 Pearl album.

Miranda would have been six when this album came out, but what are older brothers for?

“Song to the Moon” from Act I of Rusalka by Antonín Dvořák. Rusalka is based on Undine by Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué, which is a retelling of the little mermaid fairy tale. This is not the Disney version, or even the Hans Christian Anderson version: the prince dies and Rusalka (the mermaid) has to wander the earth as a spirit forever. It makes a great opera, though. Many fine sopranos have recorded this aria. My favorites are Renee Fleming and Lucia Popp.

Conor and Monica Rose (Miranda’s parents) flew out to see Rusalka at the San Diego Opera in January of 1995. The role of Rusalka became one of Renee Fleming’s signature roles after she sang it at the Seattle Opera in 1990. She would also have sung the performance in 1995 that the Roses were fortunate enough to hear.

The final bit of quoted text is from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

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Moonlight Masterpost+

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Chapter Fifteen+ >>

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leigh-kelly · 6 years

Text

The One You Love and Live For Until the End of Time

Some new Fire Island AU.

After Sam and Mercy take Ana home, you’re surprised how much you see them. Once Mercy has recovered a bit, she comes to your door with Ana and a cake, telling you that it’s the least she could do to thank you for all you’ve done. You smile and invite her in, pouring her a cup of coffee, getting the chance to hold your little namesake baby again when she’s not freshly born. It’s nice to have a friend, you think, someone who’s just come to the island too and doesn’t know everyone else, and when you tell Brittany as much, she kisses you and tells you she’s happy you’ve found that.

School starts up again and you have a new batch of students in your classroom. You spend the first week learning their names, getting them to settle down after most of them have roamed free for the summer, and then you begin to teach them. It feels good not to sit home all day fussing over the house, it feels good to do something that you do well and when you come home on that first Friday, Brittany beams it you, seeing the enjoyment written across your face.

“You look awfully tired today, sweetheart.” You tell her, looking where she slumps freshly bathed in the sitting room chair.

“Winds were rough and we had to stay out much later than we usually do. I brought fish home for us to cook for dinner though.”

“Let me cook, you seem as if you’ve had a long enough day.”

“I thought I might want to take ya out tonight, to celebrate your first week back in the classroom, but I’m tired to the bone and didn’t think I could manage it.”

“Come sit in the kitchen with me, suppose we have a beer while I cook?”

“That sounds real nice.” She nods and stands up. “Weather’s not supposed to be good tomorrow, I’m plannin’ on stayin’ in.”

“I selfishly enjoy that notion.” You head toward the kitchen and while she takes two beers from the icebox, you find the fish she filleted and begin to make a batter for it. “I’ve missed you this week.”

“The boys are playin’ poker at Davey’s tomorrow night, but I told them I’d rather stay in with ya.”

“You can go if you’d like, I don’t want to keep you from it.”

“I know.” She smiles as she pops the caps off the bottles. “But I don’t want to. I want to walk on the beach, perhaps. There’s a nip in the air already, won’t be much longer before we’re bundled up to do it.”

“I’m grateful we’ll have neighbors this winter. Sometimes I felt like we didn’t see a soul other than each other for days at a time last year. Not that I’d complain about being trapped in the house with you.”

“I know what you’re sayin’. Nice to only walk a short distance if there’s an emergency.”

You cook dinner while Brittany sits and watches you and then she helps you bring everything to the table. She smiles while she eats, even though her eyes droop and you realize that you can’t wait to get into bed. Each night this week you’d stayed up later than her, planning things to do with your students and now that it’s Friday, you don’t have to. Now that it’s Friday, you can fall asleep in her arms and feel the type of content that you only feel when she embraces you.

After dinner, you wash the dishes together and then you go to the sofa. She lays her head in your lap while you listen to the radio and you run your fingers through long blonde hair. It takes a few moments before you realize that she’s fallen asleep like that, but you wait before rousing her. Her day had tuckered her out more than you’ve ever seen and you want to let her rest just a bit before you force her up the stairs to go to bed. When you finally wake her, you do it with a kiss, leaning down and gently pressing your lips to hers until her eyes open. She smiles at you and you take her hand, leading her up the stairs.

“Ya look awful pretty.” She tells you as you slide out of your skirt and stockings.

“I still have a bit of chalk on me.” You shrug, neatly placing your things into the laundry hamper.

“It don’t matter to me, I still think you’re a sight.”

“You know how to make me blush.” You slide the ring off the chain around your neck and onto your finger.

“I love when ya blush.” She pulls back the covers of your bed and slides beneath them, waiting for you. You slip into your pajamas and unpin your hair and then you oblige her, crawling beneath the blanket and into her arms. “I missed ya this week.”

“I’m sorry I stayed up so late each night. Although this is my second year, I still get nervous in the classroom.”

“I sure am certain that you’re the best teacher that’s ever been. Ya care more than anyone I’ve seen.”

“I just want them to love to learn, like I did.”

You fall asleep not long after you finish talking, leaving Great Expectations on the bedside table in favor of staying in Brittany’s arms. When you wake up in the morning, Brittany’s cheek feels warm against your skin and when you study her face, you see that she’s pale. Her exhaustion last night should have struck you as strange, given that she never complains of feeling tired, but it’s not until you realize that she’s sick that you put the two things together. When you go to move from her arms, she grumbles in distaste, but you kiss her forehead, feeling how warm her skin truly is.

“My head aches.” She complains, rolling over into you as you sit up. “M’whole body aches.”

“I think you’re sick, love.”

“I never get sick.” She opens her eyes and they’re glassy, worrying you. “Don’t go. ‘S cold here without ya.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promise, tucking the blanket more securely around her as she shivers. “Just to get you some tea and some aspirin.”

You kiss her head again as you skip from the bed. As much as you hate to leave her when she’s ill, you need to care for her and the best thing you can do is warm her with some tea and give her aspirin for her aches. After you finish brewing the cup, you come back upstairs to find her buried completely under the quilt on the bed, despite the fact that it’s relatively warm in the bedroom. Gently, you coax her out and you help her to sit up, pressing the mug into her hands before you sit down beside her.

She drinks just two small sips of the tea and swallows the pills before she pulls the covers up to her chin and lies back down. Tenderly, you pin the hair from her face and you lie beside her, feeling the pull toward her ever as you consider to leave her to rest. It pains you to see your strong, tough Brittany incapacitated by an illness and you feel your throat tighten at the sight of her so small beneath the quilt. You’re glad, mostly, that it’s Saturday and it storms outside your window, because you think she’d be likely to try to go out on the Alcott if it weren’t a day as it was. She hates to miss a day’s work, she’s fiercely dedicated, so you thank God for the sound of thunder and touch the cross around your neck.

“Perhaps I ought to go for the doctor.” You suggest, but she shakes her head.

“‘S nothin’ much. I just need to sleep in awhile and I’ll be dandy when I wake up.”

As she sleeps, you sit by her side. You read about Pip and Estella and Miss Havisham, constantly lifting your eyes from the book to see that she’s breathing alright. After an hour or so of watching her fitful slumber, you go to make coffee for yourself and then you bring it back up to the bedroom, not wanting to be away from her for too long. Beads of sweat form on her face and you wipe them carefully with a washcloth, not wanting to wake her. Briefly, you consider unwinding her from the quilt, but she shivers beneath it and you don’t want to make her suffering worse.

It’s nearly noon when she wakes again and though you think it’s a bit foolish that you’re still in your nightgown, you hadn’t wanted to put on a skirt and blouse just to sit vigil at Brittany’s bedside. She cries a little when she wakes and it pains your heart to hear such a thing. Even when you’d seen her wounded twice in the past, she hadn’t cried, so you think the fever must be gripping her something fierce. She fights the quilt from her body and she writhes beneath the sheets, sending a flood of worry straight to your chest.

“Brittany.” You whisper, leaning over her restless form.

“So hot.”

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll help you out from under the sheet.”

Her nightgown is soaked with sweat when you liberate her from the fabric entrapment and her hair, even pinned, sticks to her face. Not for a moment do you worry about catching her illness yourself, you just want to care for her as she cared for you when you were sick with the mysterious illness you’d had two summers ago. She tugs at the fabric of her nightgown but she’s too weak to remove it from her body. Before you help her out of it, you go to the bathroom and wet a cloth to cool her down with. Once you have her out of her nightgown, you run the cloth over her clammy skin until she shivers again and you help her into a clean gown. You tuck her beneath the covers and she falls asleep again, filled with fits and starts.

It scares you so deeply how ill she is that you have to leave her. She needs a doctor, that’s for certain, but to go for Michael’s brother is just such a long walk from the house that you fear she’ll wake up again in your absence. Instead, you dress and you slide on your shoes to go to Mercy and Sam’s house. You hope so fully that they’re home, that you can ask Sam to go for Dr. Chang. You walk there and you wring your hands, fearful that they won’t be home. You get to their doorstep, soaked from the rain, and you knock, waiting patiently until Mercy comes to the door with Ana in her arms.

“Santana.” She smiles. “C’mon in, I’m just making lunch.”

“Brittany’s sick.” You blurt out, forgetting your manners. “I was hoping Sam could go for Dr. Chang.”

“Sam!” Mercy calls out, looking at you with concern. “Come down here!”

“Right here, Merc.” He comes to the door. “Oh, hi Santana. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Brittany’s sick.” Mercy tells him. “She needs a doctor.”

“Let me get my boots on and I’ll go straight away.”

Afraid you may have caught what Brittany has, you don’t go into Sam and Mercy’s house for fear of infecting the baby. Instead, you thank them profusely and you go back home. Brittany is still in her fitful sleep when you get there and you perch on the edge of the bed. You’re powerless to help her and it makes your heart ache. You twist your wedding band on your finger, careless enough to leave it on, and you wait. When there’s a knock on the door, you go down and you let Sam and Dr. Chang in. Sam insists on staying to hear what the doctor has to say and you appreciate that more than you can express.

“Brittany.” Dr. Chang rouses her from her slumber. “It’s Guy.”

“Guy.” She murmurs. “What are ya doin’ here?”

“You look awful sick.” He opens his bag and examines her, Sam respectfully standing outside of the room. “It appears to be influenza.”

“Sam, you should leave.” You like to him in the doorway. “You don’t want Mercy and Ana getting sick.”

“You’ll come by if there’s anything you need?”

“Yes, thank you.”

There’s nothing Dr. Chang can do to treat Brittany, he just tells you to give her fluids and aspirin and to send for him if her symptoms worsen. When he leaves, you fret over her a bit, making sure she drinks the glass of water you fill for her and stroking her sweat coated forehead until she falls back to sleep. Once she’s sleeping again, you busy yourself in the kitchen with a soup, but you’re so distracted, continuously going up to check on her, that it’s difficult to get anything done.

“Santana.” She croaks our, waking from sleep once you finally get your stock to boil. “Ya shouldn’t be in here.”

“I won’t leave you alone.” You swear to her. “I’m caring for you the way you cared for me when I was ill.”

“I’ve never been sick like this. Pop wouldn’t’ve known what to do with me.”

“I’m making you soup. I need you to try and eat something so you get your strength up.”

“I can barely lift a blanket. My body feels like it has weights on it.”

You think of the time all three little girls had influenza and you and your mother flew between them, spoon feeding them soup, checking their fevers, ensuring that they were comfortable. You felt so young then, but now that you’re grown and it’s your beloved, you feel paralyzed by concern. It can be dangerous, you know that much, but Dr. Chang hasn’t seemed alarmed. Perhaps because Brittany is so strong no one worries about her, but you do. You tenderly kiss her forehead and you look into her glassy eyes.

“Perhaps you should bathe. The water may bring your fever down. I’ll run a bath for you with Epsom salts.”

She doesn’t protest when you leave to fill the tub, nor when you help her take off another sweat soaked nightgown to get in the tub. You leave her to bathe as you gather up warm towels for her and change the linens on the bed. Then you bring extra blankets down from the closet, hoping they’ll warm her up, and you make a nest for her among the pillows. She stumbles back into the bedroom and doesn’t bother with a nightgown before crawling back into bed. Before you join her, you kneel at the foot and you pray, begging God to keep her safe, saying the rosary without your beads because you want God to know you truly mean it.

Saturday and Sunday pass while you fret over her and on Monday morning you’re loathe to leave her to go to work. You know you must though and you kiss her goodbye, hoping she’ll sleep through the day. It’s difficult for you to concentrate on the children while you worry about her, but you do the best you can. When you come in from work, bone tired, having not slept in your worry, you hear the radio on. Brittany, wrapped in the blanket from the bed, is on the sofa and you smile at the sight of her.

“Brittany. You’re awake.”

“Ya took care of me the whole time.”

“I’m sorry I had to leave you today to go to work.” You sit beside her on the couch and take her hand, so glad it doesn’t feel clammy any longer. “Your fever’s broken.”

“I warmed up some of your soup on the stove. I managed to get down a whole bowl.”

“I’m so glad to see that you’re getting well. You scared me when you started having fever dreams.”

“I was real scared too. I didn’t want to leave ya.”

“You’re going to be with me for a long time.” You promise, studying her face. “I don’t want you to fret about such things.”

“Sometimes it’s hard not to, but nothing scares me more than bein’ in a world without ya. Ya treat me so tender and sweet and I love ya with all my heart.”

“Brittany.”

“I felt ya sitting by the bed the whole time. I wanted to comfort ya, to tell ya I was tryin’ my hardest to get better.”

“You needed all of your strength to heal and now you’re out of bed.”

“Ya look real tired, Santana.” She strokes your face and you close your eyes under her touch. “I think ya ought to sleep.”

“I’m alright. I’ll sleep in a few hours. I want to cook dinner and put new linens on the bed.”

“I’m well enough that I can do it.”

“You need to continue to rest. I’ll be just fine doing it.”

She protests, following you to the bedroom. You finally consent, letting her help you pull the sheets taut and make up the bed so when you crawl into it, you’ll be comfortable. She convinces you not to cook dinner, to just warm up more of the soup for the two of you. She thinks she can’t eat much more than that and that you ought to sit down and enjoy the music on the radio. The gleam in her eyes is back and you feel your body relax at the sight of it. Brittany, your Brittany is well again and your fears have been relieved.

“I feel real bad we didn’t have the weekend as we planned. I know ya wanted to go to the mainland for church service.”

“I prayed plenty while you slept. I knew nothing else to do but to turn to God.”

“I’m sorry I scared ya so much. I never felt so sick before.”

“Influenza is terrifying. I’ve nursed the little girls through it. I’ve been lucky enough to only have it once or twice.”

“It felt like my body was taken over. I could barely speak to ya.”

“I know.” You nod. “But you’re here now.”

“I want to lay close with ya tonight. I missed holdin’ ya in my arms.”

“I missed it too. Even lying beside you wasn’t the same.”

“I think we should go up to bed. I’m awful tired.”

“I think perhaps I’ll sleep tonight, knowing that you’re alright.”

As you go upstairs to the bedroom you hold Brittany’s hand. She has the blanket wrapped around her and you can’t help but smile at her. When you get into the bedroom, you smooth the blanket over the new linens and she crawls beneath. You change into your nightgown and you join her, resting your head on her chest once you’re tucked beneath the covers.

“Will you wake up in the morning and go out on the boat?”

“I think I may. Ya sent word for Davey this morning but tomorrow morning I ought to join them.”

“I don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”

“I’m not, I’m fit as an ox now. Your nursing was real good.”

“You worry me sometimes, with how hard you work.”

“It’s the only speed I know. I’m a girl captain, I need to work harder than anyone else to prove I can do it.”

“I think you’ve proven yourself time and again.”

“Ya know.” Brittany sighs. “Much as I prove myself, few people beyond my crew and Mr. Brewster at the shipyard respect me for the work I do.”

“I didn’t know that. You seem so well loved by everyone, I couldn’t imagine you having difficulties.”

“I’m loved in the community because of my Pop. I worry now that I’ll just become the odd girl, with him not here anymore. That’s why I’ve gotta work twice as hard as I used to. I need to prove myself. It’s bad enough I missed two days bein’ ill.”

“I understand.” You nod. “But I beg of you to listen to your body if it’s crying out for you to stop.”

“Okay.” She agrees. “I will. But I’m going to go out tomorrow.”

“And you’ll let me run you a hot bath and cook you dinner when you get home?”

“Ya know, ya work all day too. Why are ya always fussin’ over me when you’re tired too?”

“Because I love you and I don’t have the physical demands in my job that you do.”

“I just want ya to know that I respect the work ya do as much as ya respect mine.”

“I know, Brittany. But I like to cook for you. It makes me happy to do those things for you since you care for me in so many ways.”

“Ya sure are the better cook. I’d rather build ya a hundred houses and have the food ya cook.”

“You’re silly.” You laugh. “But if it makes you happy, I’ll spend the rest of my life doing it.”

“I never in my wildest dreams imagined having someone like you. Ya know, sometimes I thought about how bad of a wife I’d be to some fella, running off to man my boat. But with ya, it’s different. We can take turns cookin’ dinner and I don’t have to worry about havin’ it on the table every night. I can make love to ya without worryin’ about doin’ my wifely duty. I don’t have to worry about bearin’ babies, I just get to love ya naturally, without everything else that gets in between.”

“I...assumed I’d marry one of the boys in my neighborhood to make my family happy. I never knew that love could feel like it feels with you. I’ve read so many love stories in my books but none of them compare to what loving you feels like.”

“I sure am glad I lingered around outside of the bar that night. It took me awhile to get the courage up to do it.”

“You?”

“Sure. Ya were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen and I never woulda known that ya might have feelings back for me. I mostly just wanted to make sure ya were safe with all the rowdy fellas but then it was like magic.”

“I never knew it was an option to love another woman. We’re odd girls, I’m certain of that, but we’re not the only ones who exist as we do.”

“I’d love ya even if we were the only odd girls in the world.”

“I think to love you was inevitable for me. My body feels like it was waiting for you my whole life.”

“When ya say pretty things like that, it makes me wish I had the strength to make love to ya tonight.”

“You ought to be sleeping.” You smile. “Your body needs to repair itself.”

“I love ya, Santana. Thank ya for carin’ for me.”

“I’d have done nothing else.”

#brittana #starlight!verse #fire island AU #1940s fire island

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monstersandmaw · 6 years

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Footsteps in the Snow - Chapter Four

Thank you for your overwhelmingly positive responses to this mlm story set in the snowy world of Skyrim! I can’t tell you how much it warms my heart to have people love something that has become my absolute baby, and probably my favourite piece of writing to date.

Table of Contents | Previous Chpt

Lein realises Argis does know, and feels like his dreams got stepped on a bit. Maybe not the happiest of chapters but it's got some really sweet moments between Argis and Lein, so it's all just Lein being an idiot. Don't worry :P

Lein returned from the Silverblood Inn the next morning with a belly full of sickly sweetroll and strong black tea, and a strange feeling in his gut that had nothing to do with the rich food. His body ached from their activities the night before and that morning, sore and stretched in places he’d forgotten it could ache, and it was a sweet pain that reminded him of easier times and closer relationships.

Argis wasn’t there when he got back, but he wasn’t bothered. If the big man had ever learned to read, perhaps he’d have left Lein a note, but as it was, he had no idea where his housecarl had gone. Most likely he was training out in the stable yard with the other guards and housecarls of the city. He seemed to spend a lot of his spare time training, but Lein wasn’t surprised. He only had to look at the man to know he took his body and his job seriously. Before he got too distracted with thoughts of Argis’ muscles, he rolled his own shoulders out and decided how to occupy himself for the morning.

The heady scent of herbs began to fill the house as he set to work restocking his potion supplies after the fiasco with the statue in his bag. The damned thing had done more damage than if he’d conjured an atronach in there and let it get to work on the contents. Still, there was only one thing to be done, and that was to make more potions. His stock of ingredients was excellent, Lein having compulsively gathered almost every alchemical specimen he came across on his journeys. Wearing some enchanted gloves which not only protected him from some of the nastier ingredients, but which enhanced some of the effects of his brews and tinctures, he managed to create more than he needed to in order to replace the waste from the necromancer incident.

Sighing with satisfaction a long time later, he stacked the glass phials, colour-coded and carefully stoppered and labelled in his impeccably neat copperplate writing, onto the shelves in the alchemy corner, and wondered idly what the time was. He set the enchanted gloves back on the table and turned to leave the room.

Using the little stone basin in the corner, he washed his hands and arms all the way up to the elbow, making sure that not even a single speck of anything remained on his arms that he might accidentally ingest later, and he cracked the pooling stiffness from his neck. He had no way of knowing what the hour was while he was indoors, and so, grabbing a soft white roll and some ham and cheese, he took a plate of food out onto the balcony and stared up at the sky for a while. The fact that his stomach was empty again told him it had to be at least after midday, but he was surprised to see how far the sun had wheeled around in the clear blue winter sky. It had to be closer to two in the afternoon.

He set the plate down on the stone rim of the balcony and leaned his elbows forward as he chomped down on the bread. The roll was fresh and light, and still ever so slightly warm in the centre, and combined with the pungent goat’s cheese, was perfect. He made a mental note to thank Argis for having the foresight to bake a fresh batch before he’d left that morning. The man really was a blessing. He snorted as he tried to imagine Lydia trying to bake him something; the woman would probably blow up his tiny Whiterun house before she successfully made even a single sweetroll. Lydia’s talents lay elsewhere than cooking and baking.

Vipir had left to meet his contact after breakfast, and while Lein was sad to see him go, it didn’t feel too awful. They were never going to be more than two ships that occasionally clashed oars in the night, so to speak. That was alright. He felt good for their fun, and he just hoped Argis had no idea. Lein hadn’t exactly been quiet, but the bronze doors were thick. He could live in hope, but he wouldn’t know for sure until he saw the expression his face. Still, that was not a conversation he wanted to have, or, more likely, pointedly not have with his housecarl just yet.

The sound of boots tramping up the stairs to the hall made Lein look round, but he didn’t straighten up from where he was leaning languidly on the wall. Argis came into view a moment later, apparently lost in thought as usual, staring at the ground. “Hey,” Lein smiled, and Argis looked up sharply, blinking and surprised by the unexpected greeting.

His smile was friendly enough, but there was a distance to his expression that told Lein he knew at least something of what had been going on. He nodded politely. “Afternoon.”

He was wearing a dirty linen shirt, ripped and nicked, and darkened with sweat and a few patches of blood, tucked vaguely into loose-fitting trousers. The damp fabric of his shirt clung to every curve of his muscular torso and arms, and Lein felt his mouth go dry at the very sight of it. He took a moment to breathe the tension from his groin, and stared instead at Argis’ soft, flexible looking boots.

“Listen, Argis,” Lein began when he was a little more composed, pushing himself upright and turning round to lean his back against the cool rock instead. He knew he looked casual and laid back as a Khajiit, but inside he was considerably less so. That morning he’d also made up his mind about something he’d been debating for a while. “I’ve pretty much recovered now after my episode of utter stupidity, and I’m getting a bit claustrophobic here in the city…”

The housecarl smiled again, but it was sadder, softer, this time. “I said just the other day you were getting like a sabre cat in a cage.” He leaned one massive hand against the rock on his left. “You planning on heading off again then?”

Lein nodded. “Yeah. I want to head north on foot before the winter snows get too bad. I hate taking the carriages – they take fucking forever, and the bandits always know their schedules.”

“You’re going to Hjaalmarch then?”

“Yeah. I miss those big open skies,” he said. “But listen, I just wanted to say that you’re more than welcome to come with me, you know, and see a bit more of Skyrim if you wanted to. No pressure, and you could head back here whenever you felt like it. I know your life is here in Markarth, but at the same time, I don’t want you to think…” Don’t want him to think what? That you don’t value him? That you have a fucking mammoth-sized crush on him? That you are barely having any more luck containing your fantasies than a hormonal teenager? He sighed. “Don’t want you to think that you’re not welcome or whatever. I’d love you to come with me, but I quite understand if you’d prefer to stay here.”

Argis looked thoughtful, and Lein found himself admiring the expression on his face. He looked like a brute and a bruiser, with his one milky-blind eye and his scarred cheek, his huge muscles and massive bones, but he was intelligent and kind behind his tough exterior.

Before Argis could give a rushed answer, Lein held up a hand and said, “Think on it. Don’t say anything just yet.”

“Alright,” Argis hedged. “I won’t.”

And without another word, he stumped into the house, letting the door close softly behind him, and leaving Lein standing alone on the balcony to finish the last few crumbs of his lunch.

Returning to the kitchen and washing the stubborn remnants of the gooey cheese from the plate, Lein heard the bath running and, a short moment later, the sounds of Argis washing himself. Lein knew he had to do literally anything to distract himself, and that this crush of his was getting stupid. His activities with Vipir had awoken him as much as they had satisfied him.

When the housecarl emerged a while later, his hair was wet and dripping into his clean linen shirt. His usual braids were missing, washed away in the hot water of his bath, and his beard was neatly trimmed once more. Lein swallowed and returned his mismatching eyes to his book.

“Thane?” he asked a moment later, getting Lein’s attention. Argis still hadn’t quite mastered calling him by his name all the time.

“Hmm?”

“How soon would you want to leave for Hjaalmarch?”

Lein closed the book, marking the place with a finger, and stretched out his lean legs where he’d had them propped up on the high stone shelf that guarded the fireplace, crossed at the ankles. Argis’ eyes tracked the motion but the housecarl remained silent. Lein pouted thoughtfully and said, “I sent a letter by courier to Valdimar, my housecarl at Windstad Manor, to say that I’d like to be there before winter solstice.”

Argis nodded, clearly running the maths in his head. “That’s a couple of weeks or so from now…”

“Yeah, so I’d need to be on the road in a few days. It’s a fair hike from here, and I might stop off either in Solitude or Morthal before hand.”

“Morthal,” Argis murmured.

Lein wondered what thoughts were slowly rolling through his head, but he just nodded mutely. After another few heartbeats of silence, he finally asked, “Have you had any more thoughts on coming with me?”

Argis blinked and looked a little bashful. “You… You still don’t mind if I come along?”

Lein had to work hard to contain the full force of his smile, but he practically felt his eyes glittering as he shook his head. “On the contrary – I’d love you to come along.”

“I thought you said you were a ‘lone wolf’.”

He cringed a little at that. “I am, most of the time. But honestly… I think it’d be nice to get to know you better. And it’s dangerous travelling Skyrim alone. Fuck knows, I’ve got the scars to prove it.” Argis was nodding a moment later, his eyes flickering almost imperceptibly to Lein’s chest. He knew the mess of scars and marks that lay beneath the fabric of his rich, green, linen shirt. “I’m going to start packing up my things and making preparations today, and I’ll aim to head out on Loredas morning at the latest.” He paused and scratched the neat stubble on his chin. “Maybe even tomorrow if you’re up for it.”

Argis nodded once. “I would like to come with you. I don’t have much I’d want to bring with me, just my sword and some spare clothes. I can be ready to go whenever you are.”

Lein yawned and slid a small slip of leather into the book in his lap to mark the page. Argis’ gaze went to the book and lingered there a moment. Lein looked up again just as Argis turned his eyes away. Lein narrowed his, but didn’t speak. It looked like Argis was about to say something and Lein decided to wait patiently, quietly, trying not to spook the impending question out of the man.

Eventually his patience was rewarded as Argis mumbled, “Thane, can… can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

Argis smiled at that. He sucked in an enormous breath and then asked in a big rush, “You said a while back, when you first got here that you... that if… that if I wanted to learn to read, that you’d teach me…?”

“I did,” he smiled gently.

“So… I was wondering if that’s still the case? If you’d still want to teach me? It’s always been something I’ve wanted to learn, but I’ve never had the chance… My parents never learned either… They were just farmers, you know?”

“I’d be honoured to teach you,” he said, sincerity ringing like a temple bell in his tone. “Perhaps it’s something we start do on the road. I’m going to bring a few books with me anyway.”

Argis looked embarrassed and grateful in equal measure, and Lein couldn’t help the lopsided smile that twitched on his lips at the sight of him.

“Thank you, thane,” he said, his voice deep and gruff. He cleared his throat awkwardly and then said, “Well, I’ll, um, leave you to your preparations then…”

Lein nodded, knowing that the big man’s admission had made him feel vulnerable, and so he didn’t linger, busying himself by fetching and laying out his weapons and supplies on the clear kitchen table.

“Alright,” Lein murmured to himself when he was done, rubbing his cold hands together.

He’d lost himself in getting his belongings ready, and had let the fire die down. The room had chilled, the smooth stone walls sucking the heat from the air, and he eyed the fire. He crossed to it and grabbed a couple of logs from the bronze log rack and dumped them among the embers. He brushed his fingers against his palms, feeling the crackle of magicka as he summoned a gentle ball of flames and set it down into the fresh logs. They began to smoulder immediately, and then bright golden flames licked up around the bark, snapping and popping as they caught.

“Handy,” Argis remarked with a chuckle, and Lein turned to see him leaning against the wall. His heart lurched wildly at the sight of him. He had tied his hair back in a loose bun, a few strands falling around his face, and his arms were casually crossed over his chest, one leg bent with the ankle crossed over the other. It wasn’t the heat of the freshly-kindled logs that filled Lein’s face, and he was fairly certain that he didn’t imagine the slight twitch in the corner of Argis’ mouth either. The enormous man didn’t move a muscle but continued to stare at him.

“Yeah,” Lein croaked, rubbing his palms together subconsciously. “Well, what good is magic if you can’t use it to warm the place up a little, huh?”

Argis’ little smile stretched into a smirk and he huffed a laugh. “True.” He sighed and uncrossed his long legs, pushing himself upright off the wall. “What do you fancy for dinner?”

“What have we got left?”

“Well, since you asked me not to restock the cupboards with anything, not much,” he said regretfully.

Lein sighed. “We could head to the Silverblood Inn instead? My treat since I told you not to get any food…”

“Alright,” Argis smiled after a moment. “Sure, that’d be nice.”

“Give me a moment to get changed,” Lein said, eyeing the ripped trousers he was wearing and the fact that his feet were bare on the chilly stones. “I’ll be right out.”

When he emerged a while later, he’d have been lying if he’d said he hadn’t put on the nicest pair of leggings and boots he owned. The figure-hugging leggings were soft deerskin, dyed black, with a panel of deep russet brown on the thigh and calf, though the latter was hidden in his tall, soft leather boots. He was still wearing the green shirt, because he seemed to recall Lydia saying it set off his mismatching eyes nicely, and he had his hair loose for a change.

Argis was sitting beside the fire, staring into the flames as usual, when Lein entered the room. He wondered where Argis’ mind went in those quiet moments when he himself would have been reading.

He sighed, perhaps a little too loudly, and Argis caught the sound. He turned and stared for a heartbeat too long before coughing slightly. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yup,” Lein smiled, running a hand through his ghostly white hair. He could barely remember the exact colour it had been before he’d gone white. He sighed again as he twiddled the end of it through his fingers and picked up the housekeys.

“Everything alright?” the housecarl asked as he locked the door behind him.

“Hmm?”

“You seem… I don’t know… distracted?”

Lein looked up at him, craning his neck up from his five foot seven height – five foot eight if he really stood straight – to stare up at the man who was basically a foot taller than him. “Oh no,” he bluffed. “It’s nothing.” The slight flicker of a frown ghosted over Argis’ face, but it was gone when Lein added, “Nothing a pint or two won’t cure. Come on.”

Klepper showed them into a quiet corner of the inn near a fire, and they were brought plates of steaming goat curry and a sweet mead that complimented it nicely. Once the mead was all gone, Lein ordered a pint of his favourite, malty ale, and Argis polished off another few pints of the same. They talked a little of the city of Markarth itself, of the Forsworn, but Lein noticed how Argis quickly closed off if he asked him too many questions about the Forsworn, or even about his own childhood. Yet again, he wondered what had happened to him, and whether his scars and the loss of his eyesight were tied to the Forsworn.

Argis asked him about the other cities, about his travels, and, tentatively, about the time he’d spent at the College of Winterhold.

A doe-eyed serving girl sashayed over to them as the evening wore on, and she leaned close to Lein, her eyelashes fluttering. Unashamedly, she gave Lein a clear, straight shot at her breasts in her low-cut dress. “Can I get you boys some more drink?”

Lein’s eyes went first to Argis’ face, and he watched as the housecarl’s eyes flickered up the girl’s body, lingering on the curves of her hips and the lines of her small waist, before darting over to find his thane staring at him. Instead of the customary blush which Lein had grown to expect whenever this happened, Argis smirked. He actually smirked. He said nothing; he didn’t move a single other muscle, but he smirked. Argis knewthe pretty serving girl’s efforts were completely wasted on Lein, and for some reason, that suddenly made Lein nervous.

“No, thank you,” Lein said darkly. “Not for me. I’ve never been very good at holding my drink, and I’ve had too much already. Don’t let that stop you though, Argis,” he said, trying instead to smile openly at him.

“Worried you won’t make it up all those steps if you do, thane?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

Lein wasn’t sure if it was the drink making his ears woolly or whether Argis’ voice really was that gravelly. “Worried you’re going to have to carry me, more like,” he grumbled, feeling his mood darkening. The last thing he wanted to do was impose himself on an unwilling housecarl. Worse yet, Argis knew about his preferences now. Of that he was certain.

Argis laughed and shook his head at the serving girl. “Thank you, not for me either.”

She pouted and reached for Argis’ tattooed cheek. “Too bad,” she cooed flirtatiously. “I was hoping you boys would stick around. You’re a lot easier on the eyes than the rest of these ugly brutes in here.”

Argis laughed again but looked back at Lein, who felt more than a little sad around the edges now as he stared into the flames of the nearby fire. For a while he’d entertained the idea that Argis might be interested in him, or at least in men, but the way he was staring at the girl wiped that hope clean away. Of course, he might be one of those rarer individuals who liked both, or for whom it didn’t matter, but Lein just knew his luck wouldn’t stretch that far. Couldn’t. Suddenly he didn’t want to stay in the inn, in the city, a moment longer.

“Hey,” Argis’ soft voice said once the girl had left them. It also sounded suddenly a lot closer. “Hey, you ok?”

Lein looked up and did a double-take. Argis was leaning forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees, brows puckered in a frown of concern. He was looking at Lein straight on, instead of tilting his head away slightly, which meant that Lein got a perfect view of his blind eye and scars. Gods, he was so beautiful.

“Yeah,” Lein rasped, something excruciatingly painful lancing through his chest. “Yeah I’m fine. Like I said, too much to drink probably.”

“You want to head back?” he asked, still leaning forward, still frowning. His forearms looked incredible, shirt sleeves cuffed up to the elbow.

“I think I will go home,” Lein said. “But don’t let me dampen your evening.”

Argis’ frown only pinched tighter. “Dampen my evening? I don’t have plans beyond this.”

“Maybe you should,” Lein half growled, standing and striding towards the bar, ignoring the way his head spun, leaving a handful of septims on the counter and nodding at Kleppr. As he turned away, he almost ran into Endon, who greeted him warmly in his rich baritone, asking him how he was. “Fine,” he replied curtly, “Thank you. Please, excuse me.” And he stalked out of the inn and into the cold air of Markarth beyond.

He felt sick, and it wasn’t just the alcohol sloshing around his stomach. “Like you ever had a chance with him anyway,” he snarled at himself.

Water gushed down the gullies and while he wasn’t truly drunk, he was far from his steadiest. He cursed his inability to manage alcohol. How many times had Vex teased him in the Ragged Flagon about getting drunk on two measly bottles of ale? How many times had Veezara and Arnbjorn drunk him under the table in the Brotherhood Sanctuary? Even tiny Babette could handle more than him. And yet here he was, still merrily making a fool of himself in front of Argis. He shook his head as he crossed the little bridge in front of the inn, miraculously managing not to slip off and land on his arse in the freezing water, and began to make his way between the deserted market stalls.

“Thane!” Argis’ voice boomed in the quiet evening, and he heard his heavy footfalls as the huge man jogged the distance between them like he was on was an early morning run. Lein almost cursed him for his tolerance. “Thane, wait” he called again, drawing level with him as he began to climb the steep staircase that overlooked the marketplace. “Did I say something to offend you?”

Lein sighed. He sighed like the weight of all Tamriel rested on his shoulders. “No, Argis. You’ve done nothing. You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m just…” he shook his head again, regretting it as it upset his balance a little. He put a pale hand on the rock wall to steady himself. “Tired. I’m tired, Argis. And I’ve had too much to drink.”

“Alright,” Argis said, his tone clearly saying he didn’t believe a word of it.

“I’m going home, and I’m going to bed. You should stay out and have some fun. It’ll be a while before we hit another town after tomorrow.” Nine know, you won’t want any fun with me, he thought sourly. He trudged away up the stairs and hit the first landing, turning his steps up towards the next staircase which led, eventually, up to the bronze door of Vlindrel Hall. He really had to focus hard in order to keep from swaying or tripping, but he was a pretty good actor, and he just about managed it.

Argis walked beside him all the way, and when Lein stopped in the doorway and turned to him, he stopped. “Argis?” Lein asked, confused.

Argis only smiled a soft smile. “I’m actually kind of boring,” he laughed. “I don’t need to stay out late anymore.”

Lein flashed him a confused frown, but said nothing. Turning way, he fished the keys out of his pocket and fumbled it awkwardly in the lock and cursed.

“Here,” Argis said, stepping round Lein and reaching for the key while it was still in his hand. When the smooth calluses of his skin touched Lein’s, he felt a jolt deep inside him. All the blood seemed to leave his head and pool in his groin. It was all he could do to stifle a moan. It wasn’t helped by the fact that Argis steadied him with a hand on his lower back as he took the key gently and put it in the lock, pushing the door open and stepping inside. He held it open for him, an utterly unreadable expression on his face.

“Thank you,” Lein managed to mutter as he made his way up the stone slope. He headed straight to the little kitchen area and grabbed a dwemer cup. Filling it with the icy water that flowed clean from the taps, he downed it in one before filling it once more. When he turned, he saw Argis had finished locking up the hall and was just entering the living room.

“Thank you for this evening,” Argis smiled. “You need anything else? Otherwise, I’ll head to bed. What time do you want to leave tomorrow?”

Lein couldn’t find words easily, but he managed to rasp, “Um, after breakfast? And you’re welcome.”

Argis’ smile was easy and relaxed as he nodded and headed to his bedroom, but Lein couldn’t relax.

He sat up for a long time, staring into the embers of the banked fire, watching it die. He had never felt so conflicted about someone. Vipir and he had locked eyes across the murky water of the Ragged Flagon Cistern and he had just known, instantly, that the man wanted him. This? This was something else entirely. The man was in his employ, and he had no idea what to do. “Urgh,” he snarled to himself. “What a fucking falmer turd of a mess.”

He leaned forwards on his elbows and let his hair fall down around his face. He stayed like that for a long time, and only crawled into bed when midnight had long gone and passed.

He woke screaming and soaked in sweat three hours later.

Chapter Five

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#footsteps in the snow #skyrim #skyrim fanfic #mlm story #mlm fantasy story #fantasy story #skyrim fanfiction #argis #argis the bulwark #male dragonborn #argis x male dragonborn #ghosti's fanfic

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180abroad · 6 years

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Day 100: Welcome to York

Today, on our 100th day abroad, we finally went into town to start exploring York proper. It turned out to be a fun day filled with cobbled streets, chocolate, noodles, and football.

It was a sunny day with an almost cloudless pale-blue sky. As we entered the old town, we slipped into a stream of tourists making their way in as well. It was nice--enough people for the city to feel lively but not overwhelming.

We got a nice view of York Minster along the way. We would visit it another day, but for now we enjoyed gazing up at the soaring white-stone architecture. Our actual first stop was much more touristy: the York Chocolate Story.

The Chocolate Story was surprisingly fun and educational given the lukewarm reviews by Rick Steves and other travel guides. We were lead in a small group through a series of themed rooms, learning about the history of chocolate and its special connection to the city of York.

Standing in a hall made up to look like a Victorian street, our guide explained how it was only relatively recently that chocolate became a food. From its ancient Aztec origins, through its migration to early-modern Europe, and into the early 1800s, “chocolate” was a brewed beverage like coffee or tea.

It was only in the mid-1800s that an English Quaker named Joseph Fry discovered the secret to making “edible chocolate”--a novelty that took the continent by storm. In York, several entrepreneurial Quaker families developed their own chocolate empires, including Terry’s--of Chocolate Orange fame--and Rowntree’s--inventor of the Kit-Kat.

We got to taste a recreation of the original Rowntree’s chocolate bar recipe. There were bits of crushed cocoa nibs mixed into the chocolate, giving it a lumpy texture, and I don’t think any of us expected it to taste particularly great. But it was actually really good--dark but not bitter, and the nibs added a complex, roasted flavor. Not the best chocolate I’ve ever had, but almost certainly in the top half. It seems like the most important parts of chocolatiering were nailed down almost immediately, and everything since then has just been a matter of tweaking.

Next, we sat through a planetarium-style presentation on the Aztec roots of chocolate, including a sample of drinking chocolate prepared in the Aztec fashion: cold, spicy, and bitter.

After going through a couple more rooms dedicated to the various chocolate families of York--and more chocolate samples--we went downstairs to the chocolate “factory.”

As we took a crash course on the stages of chocolate production, we got to taste some cocoa nibs as well as some unsweetened 100% dark chocolate. The nibs were bitter but not bad. The unsweetened chocolate--which is just nibs that have been heated and compressed--was abominable. It was somehow horribly bitter and disgustingly bland at the same time, and the taste stuck to the inside of my mouth for minutes afterward. Jessica kind of liked it.

According to our guide, it’s actually quite hard to find 100% dark chocolate in stores. Only a small percentage of people like it, and chocolate companies just don’t think it’s worth the cost to make and distribute it.

A few years ago my dad found an image of a “Scotch wheel” showing all the flavor profiles of Scotch whisky. Jessica isn’t a big fan of Scotch (yet), but we finally found a wheel that we can all appreciate. The guides are also chocolatiers, so Jessica got to ask some advanced questions and generally talk shop with him while we waited for the last section of the visit to be ready.

The guided part of our tour finally over, it was time for us to make our own “chocolate lollies.” The chocolate of the day was Belgian white. Neither of us are big fans of white chocolate, but our guide insisted that we give it a try. Even people who don’t like white chocolate usually like Belgian white chocolate, he said. And he was right: it was really, really good. We each picked out a colored stick, then after he poured a circle of chocolate over one end, we got to sprinkle our choice of four toppings over it.

While we waited for our lollies to harden, we got to watch one of the other chocolatiers make a batch of chocolate truffles with a mango-cream filling. It was quite interesting, and Jessica was vindicated to learn that he too didn’t like eating chocolate despite loving to make it. (Though to be fair, Jessica does enjoy the occasional chocolate, while this guy gets violently ill from it.) We were a fairly small group, so we had to eat several truffles each. I mean, it would have been rude not to...

Our tickets to the Chocolate Story included a complimentary scoop of ice cream from the bar downstairs, but we decided to save it for later. For now, we had a date with some glass cats.

When we arrived at our flat, our host had left us a note telling us to come by the York Glass Shop for a free gift when we had time. We weren’t sure what to expect, but having enjoyed our visit to a glass shop in Bath, we were tantalized by the prospect of a running theme.

Our free gift was one of their glass cats, which came in black as well as birthstone colors. It was Jessica's turn to get a glass cat, so she picked out an aquamarine one. We also got some stained-glass bookmarks as presents for our moms.

With our glass gifts in hand, we walked around the rest of the Shambles, York's preserved medieval merchant street lined with tweed fashion boutiques, cheesy Viking stores, and everything in between.

For our first lunch out in this medieval city known for Vikings, roasts, and fried dough, we went to Wagamama, an Anglo-Japanese fusion chain. We had heard about it before, but we didn't actually know what it was. We enjoyed some yaki-soba, yaki-udon, and a plate of pulled pork gyoza. We laughed at the thought that this was probably meant to be exotic, but to us Californians it was practically a taste of home.

Our last big stop of the day was Clifford's Tower, the partially ruined stone keep that is all that remains of the old York Castle. If the Tower doesn't look quite like a typical English castle to you, you'd be right. It's design was inspired by French castles of the time. The chief architect is believed to be the Frenchman Henry de Reyns, who was also responsible for designing much of Westminster Abbey.

There wasn't a lot to see, but the view from the top was great.

In the lot below, a pop-up Shakespearean theater was being assembled. We checked, and unfortunately the first show was the day after we'd be leaving York.

Perhaps the most interesting story the castle had to tell--and certainly the most chilling--was about a pogrom that took place in 1190, when the castle was still made of wood. Anti-Semitism was erupting throughout the country in the wake of Richard the Lionheart's coronation and the start of the Third Crusade. When one such riot began in York, the entire Jewish community--around 150 men, women, and children--took refuge in the keep.

A bloodthirsty mob--including knights and commoners alike--assaulted the castle to try and drag them out. Rather than renounce their faith or allow themselves be torn apart by the mob, the people inside chose a third option. Before the last men took their own lives, they set the keep ablaze, turning it into a funeral pyre that would burn their remains before they could be desecrated by the rioters outside. There were no survivors.

Feeling it was high time for some more spirit-lifting chocolate, we headed back to the Shambles to claim our free ice cream and some hot cocoa.

Finally, we circled back to the Minster, where we saw a conspicuously lackadaisical statue of Emperor Constantine. York is unusual in that it was originally founded as a Roman military base--there was no preexisting local settlement in the area. Constantine was actually declared emperor in York, and the Minster was later built on the foundations of his military headquarters. Near the statue stands an ancient Roman pillar unearthed from the Minster’s foundations during a 20th-century retrofit.

Satisfied with everything we'd done that day, we headed home to watch the Poland vs. Senegal game of the World Cup. Poland played valiantly and scored two goals to Senegal’s one. Unfortunately, one of those two was an own goal, so Senegal took the win.

Next Post: York

Last Post: To York (Relax, Restock, and Reassess)

#180abroad #york #england #britain #castles #chocolate

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tipsycad147 · 3 years

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Magical Herb Correspondences

Use magical herbs in your workings for just about any purpose!. Image by Bethel Fath/LOOK/Getty Images

By Patti Wigington

Updated June 25, 2019

Herbs have been used for thousands of years, both medicinally and ritually. Every herb has its own unique characteristics, and these properties are what makes the plant special. Subsequently, many Pagans use herbs as part of their regular ritual practice. Whether it's for money and prosperity, protection, healing and wellness, love and lust, there is almost always an herb associated with your purposes.

So, now you've decided you're ready to do a magical working... but you're not sure which herbs are the best ones to use. Use this list as a reference point to determine which herbs, plants and flowers are the best choices for your magical intent.

Money, Prosperity and Jobs

Use herbs in magic to bring prosperity your way. Image by DNY59/E+/Getty Images

There are a number of herbs associated with matters related to money. Whether you're looking to boost your financial wherewithal, land a new job, or just pad your bank account a little, try some of these magical herbs in your money-related workings.

Business: For matters related to business, include plants like:

Hawthorn: The hawthorn tree is associated with power and masculine energy. Tuck a couple of spikes into a safe spot in your desk to give you a little magical boost at work.

Sandalwood: If you have professional goals you hope to meet, write your intent on a chip or stick of sandalwood, and then place it in a brazier to burn. As your sandalwood burns, your goal will be carried up to the heavens on the drifting smoke.

Basil: A freshly potted basil plant in your workplace can help to guarantee courage in facing business challenges.

Frankincense: Carry a few bits of resin in your pocket when you go to a business meeting or interview for a successful outcome.

Employment/jobs: If you're looking for a new job, or a promotion at your existing one, try some of these ideas:

Bay Leaf: Is there a promotion you'd like to get, or a new job you've applied for? Write your intent on a bay leaf, and carry it in your pocket.

Bergamot: Slip a few leaves into your wallet to attract a higher-paying job, or rub it on the money you currently have to ensure that it will return and multiply.

Pecan: Keep a pecan in your pocket when you go to a job interview to ensure success. If you have a job but are concerned about losing it, bake yourself a pecan pie to help you keep your job.

Money/prosperity: Money magic is one of the most popular uses of magical herbs. If you want to bring money your way, try a few of these herbs. Be sure to also read about simple money folk magic spells!

Bay leaf: Use in incense blends for money spells to bring a few extra dollars your way.

Basil: Crush up the leaves and sprinkle around your home to bring money towards you, or use them in a Money Mojo Bag.

Chamomile: Brew a batch of chamomile tea and sprinkle it around your property to draw money towards you.

Clover: Carry a clover in your wallet to bring money your way, or plant it around your house to bring all-around prosperity.

Tonka bean: In many forms of folk magic, tonka beans are carried on your person to draw financial abundance your way.

Pennyroyal: If you own a business, place a sprig over the door to draw in customers and prosperity. Try making a bar of Money Soap to wash your hands with, or use Pennyroyal to brew up some Prosperity Oil.

Luck, Gambling, and Good Fortune

Use herbs to bring success at the gaming tables. Image by Adam Gault/Digital Vision/Getty Images

Fortune/luck: Do you sometimes feel like if it weren't for bad luck, you'd have no luck at all? Try some of these ideas to help turn your fortune around:

Hazel: Carry hazelnuts in your pocket to draw good fortune your way, or hang a bough of hazel branches above your door.

Holly: Make wreaths and boughs of holly to hang around your house, inviting good luck into your home.

Pomegranate: Use pomegranate seeds in dessert and drinks to bring about prosperity and abundance.

Snakeroot: In some forms of folk magic, snakeroot - a folkloric name for black cohosh - is used to get rid of bad luck that may have been inflicted upon you magically. Use it around your home to eliminate negative fortunes.

Sunflower: Planting sunflowers around your home and garden will bring fortune your way. It is also said that if you pick a sunflower at sunset, then wear it on your person, it will bring you good luck the following day.

Clover: Clovers and shamrocks are a well-known symbol of good luck - carry one in your wallet!

Gambling/games: Are you a fan of gaming and gambling? Use some of these magical herbs to bring you success with cards and dice!

Chamomile: Wash your hands in chamomile tea to ensure good luck at the gaming tables.

Buckeye: Carry a buckeye in your pocket to bring you success in games of chance - or bake a batch of buckeye candies to eat beforehand!

Legal issues/justice: If you have a court case coming up - whether it's civil or criminal - be sure to look into some of these magical herbs:

Chamomile: Bathe in a chamomile wash before going to court to ensure a favorable outcome.

Ginger: Chew a bit of ginger as you walk into the courtroom, and discreetly spit a bit of the juice on the floor, to bring about a fair and just decision.

High John Root: Carry a bit of High John in your pocket to sway a court decision your way.

Health and Wellness

Herbs are often used for healing magic. Image by SolStock/E+/Getty Images

Many Pagans - and others - use herbs as a tool in the magical arsenal. While not every herb is safe to ingest - and be sure to read about Dangerous Herbs before you get started - many of them are used in a magical or folkloric context to bring about healing. If you're interested in healing magic, here are some of the most popular healing herbs to keep on hand, and how you can use them.

Please do keep in mind that if you're going to use herbs internally - such as a tea or tincture - it's always a good idea to check with your physician first. There are some medical conditions that contraindicate the use of various herbs, so do your homework before you begin.

In addition to those listed below, be sure to read about 9 Healing Herbs for Your Magical Medicine Cabinet.

Anxiety:

Valerian: Valerian can be brewed into a tea to help alleviate anxiety.

Lavender: Place sprigs of lavender under your pillow to help relieve stress.

Beauty:

Rosemary: Make an astringent out of it and use it as a skin wash to clear up your complexion, a soother for eczema, or one of these other healing methods.

Witch Hazel: Use as a topical astringent for your skin, and in workings that will help others see your true beauty.

Catnip: Rub catnip leaves on your skin to freshen it (although you may want to avoid this if you're allergic to cats), or burn it incense for workings related to beauty.

Ginseng: This root is typically associated with male potency - if you want a man to see how beautiful you are and bring him to you, use ginseng in your magic.

Depression:

Dandelion: Use dandelion heads and leaves in incense for healing rituals focusing on depression.

Honeysuckle: Associated with willpower, honeysuckle can help give you the extra inner strength to fight depression.

Lavender: Lavender is popular in aromatherapy - inhaling its fresh scent, or a few drops of oil, can help calm an anxious or nervous mind, as well as providing headache relief. You can also try one of these healing methods.

Healing:

Apple Blossom: Make a vinegar infusion with the blossoms, and use it to treat itchy, painful insect bites or stings. Here are some more healing ideas for apple blossoms.

Comfrey: Brew a comfrey tea to help with general healing, or use a juice from the pressed leaves for a poultice for minor cuts and abrasions.

Eucalyptus:Warm the leaves or oil, and inhale the vapors to clear clogged sinuses, stuffy noses, and other upper respiratory issues. Read more about the healing properties of eucalyptus.

Chamomile: Brew into a tea to aid in problems such as morning sickness, digestive disorders, gastritis, and difficult bowel movements. Read more about the healing properties of chamomile.

Goldenseal: Keep goldenseal handy in your medicine cabinet to clean out minor wounds and abrasions. Here are some additional uses for goldenseal in healing.

Feverfew: A decoction sweetened with honey or sugar is sometimes used to relieve light coughing or wheezing. It's a great herb to use externally as well - make a tincture or ointment to apply onto insect bites to relieve itching or swelling. For more healing ideas, read about Feverfew.

Sandalwood:The wood can be ground down into a fine powder, and used for beauty treatments - add a bit of rose oil or camphor, and apply it to your skin for cleansing. Read more about the healing properties of sandalwood.

Peppermint: Peppermint is good for the skin - rub the leaves on yourself to freshen up. You can also chew them for a quick tooth-cleaning. Use the dried leaves in incense for workings related to healing magic.

Sleep:

Mugwort: If someone has overactive dreams, they can be balanced out with a ritual bath made from mugwort and indulged in prior to bedtime.

Lavender: Keep a lavender sachet under your pillow to help with restless sleep.

Rosemary: Pot some rosemary and keep it by your bed, or use a bit of the essential oils in workings related to better sleep.

Thyme: Thyme can be used in healing rituals, or to bring about restful sleep.

Love, Lust and Friendship

There are a number of herbs and plants associated with magic relating to love, lust and friendship. Try some of these in your magical workings. As always, if your tradition forbids the use of love magic, then don't use it.

Friendship:

Orange & Lemon: Make a sachet of dried orange or lemon peels, or use them in a potpourri, to strengthen the bonds of friendship.

Sweet Annie: Burn sweet Annie in incense to help repair a damaged relationship with a friend.

Vanilla: Use vanilla bean in rituals and workings having to do with forming new friendships.

Love:

Apple Blossom: Add apple blossoms to teas, incense or potpourri when working on love magic.

Bleeding Heart: Plant bleeding hearts around your front door to invite love into your home.

Lavender: To bring love your way, carry lavender flowers in a sachet on your person, or hang stalks of it in your home.

Periwinkle: Include periwinkle flowers when making love magic poppets.

Tulip: Wear a tulip close to your body if you know you'll be around the person you're in love with, and they'll be more aware of you.

Violet, Daisy & Daffodil: Make a garland to wear in your hair, or carry a bit of violet, daisy or daffodil in your pocket to attract a new lover.

Yarrow: Yarrow is associated with Venus and Aphrodite - use it in rituals in which you call upon deities of love for assistance.

Lust:

Allspice, Cinnamon and Clove: Blend allspice, cinnamon, and/or cloves into a cake for someone you're attracted to, and it will help draw them closer.

Ginseng: Carry ginseng with you to help improve sexual potency.

Dill: Add dill seed to a bath before you get together with someone you're lusting for, for a little magical push - don't use too much, or you'll smell like pickles!

Vanilla: A bit of vanilla dabbed behind your ears makes you irresistable to those you want to want you.

Yohimbe: Use to cure impotency, or to attract new sexual partners.

Protection, Strength and Courage

Use herbs for protection and strength. Image by Rubberball/Mike Kemp/Getty Images

In many magical traditions, workings can be done to ensure protection of home, property, and people. There are a number of simple ways you can do protection magic involving herbs and plants.

Protection:

Aloe Vera: Keep potted aloe plants in your home to protect the inhabitants - it's said that aloe will keep you safe from common household accidents.

Violet, Thistle, Honeysuckle, and Fennel: Plant these herbs around your home. When they bloom, harvest them and hang them up to dry. Use the dried herbs in protective sachets or incense.

Hyssop: Carry some hyssop in your pocket, or spread it around the perimeter of your property to add a layer of magical protection.

Asoefetida: Use asofetida in incense during protection rituals.

Mandrake: Plant mandrake around the perimeter of your property as a barrier, or place some under your doorstep for protection. Use as a magical poppet for self defense.

Heather: Use heather in a dream pillow if you feel you might be under magical attack.

Holly & Mistletoe: Plant holly around the perimeter of your property for magical protection, or hang mistletoe over your doors and windows.

Mugwort: Place mugwort under your pillow to prevent astral attacks, or to ward off psychic attacks from those who would do you harm. You can also use it to make protection oil.

Onion: Make an Onion Braid protection charm to hang in your home to protect those who live there.

Courage:

Cedar: Carry a bit of cedar in your pocket when you're facing new challenges, to help boost your courage.

Mullein: Use mullein in a sachet or incense blend for workings that you'll need extra courage for.

Tonka Bean: A Tonka Bean carried on your person will help improve confidence, especially if you're facing a legal issue.

Cinnamon: Tie a pair of cinnamon sticks together, and place them under your bed or carry them with you.

Strength:

Oak & Acorns: Carry an acorn in your pocket for strength and power, or plant an oak tree in your yard to help give you extra strength.

Bay Leaf: Place a bay leaf in your shoe to help you walk with confidence and show your inner strength.

Thistle: Carry a bit of dried thistle in an amulet or talisman, or burn it in rituals that relate to developing your emotional and mental strength.

Intuition, Prophecy and Wisdom

Prophecy and divination can be enhanced with herbs. Image by Peter Cade/Photodisc/Getty Images

Intuition, Prophecy & Wisdom:

Sage: Although typically associated with cleansing and purification, sage can also be burned during divination sessions for an added magical boost.

Tobacco leaf: In some magical traditions, tobacco leaf is burned in rituals related to divination.

Jasmine: Burn some dried jasmine in your bedroom as you sleep to help with divinatory dreams, or if you're stuck at a crossroads in decisionmaking and need your intuition to guide you.

Mugwort: Place a few sprigs of fresh mugwort under your pillow to bring on prophetic dreams.

Heliotrope: Associated with the sun, heliotrope can come in handy in rituals focusing on prophecy, in divination rituals, or even to call upon solar deities for guidance.

Rowan: Use the wood of the rowan tree to make a divining rod or wand, or carry the leaves and berries in an amulet to help develop your own psychic skills.

https://www.learnreligions.com/using-herbs-in-magic-2562029

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dreamyarcana · 7 years

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Winter Memories

o h my god someone smaSH a freaking stop sign to my face next time i think of ever doing something like this again, i say as i already have an idea for next time.

in all seriousness, I really, really hope you guys like this (even if it doesn’t feature your apprentice) because i put a lot of effort into this piece that’s a WHOPPING 2,150 words, aka more than I normally would >.> im so lazy, have you met me?

i had an idea of doing a multi-apprentice fanfic for awhile now, and it turned into this. I don’t know how this would actually work in canon, and it’s more like kind of an au style where multiple apprentices kind of exist in the same ‘realm.’ how they got there and whatnot, is completely up to the reader’s imagination! to the owners of the apprentices, let me know if i need to fix anything, me making a mistake? more likely than you think

I have intentions of making a part 2 because there’s a few apprentices that I’d like to write for, so if I’ve already talked/asked you about that, don’t worry if they’re not in this one~

I hope you and enjoy and if you actually read to the end, I’ll love you forever because it i s l o ng XD

featuring (in order of appearance): Darcy [ @murielswife ], Avohkii [ @nadias-bitch ], Aveana [ @devoraakss ], Wren [ @asra-memelord ], Uma [ @julianandgems ], and Isla [ my own ]

The first thing Muriel woke up to was coughing in the middle of the night. Non-stop, soprano pitched coughing beside him. Darcy’s small body shook delicately as she gasped for breath.

“Darcy…” Muriel murmured, worried. He pressed his hand to he forehead lightly, and could feel the heat radiating like she was the sun. The former gladiator slipped out of bed carefully as not to wake his sick magician. He fetched a damp cloth as well as some water.

“Darcy, wake up,” he gently tapped her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, and an expression of confusion crossed her face.

“Is something wrong, Muriel?” Her voice sounded weak and sleepy. He nodded stoically.

“You’re extremely hot.”

“W-what?” Darcy could feel a blush rising in her cheeks. “...thank you?”

“As in temperature. You’re always beautiful, though.” Muriel reassured her with a kiss on her cheek.

“I love you, darling,” Darcy’s voice was musical to Muriel, even when sick.

“I love you, too.”

“What time is it? I think we’re suppose to head over to Asra’s later to see him and Is - she yawned, her pink lips making a round O - Isla.”

“I’ll make sure to let them know you’re sick when you’re back asleep.”

“Muuuuuurieellll,” she whined playfully.

“You need rest.”

“Okay, fine…” Darcy felt too exhausted to argue. Her smooth, small hands took one of Muriel’s rough, massive hands; she daintily placed it over her heart. Darcy curled up close beside him, the side of her flushed face pressed against his slow moving chest. Muriel waited until her breathing was steady before slithering out of bed to brew some soup and inform Asra.

When he returned by her side, all Muriel could think of was how lucky he was to have such a sweet and gorgeous magician that loved him. He dearly hoped she would feel better soon and swore to himself he’d take care of her until she did.

ღ

The early morning rays peeked through tentatively through the window as a thoughtful Avohkii dressed in the dim light. They felt as if their mind hadn't quite settled down that night - like it was a running, nonstop buzzing hum in the quiet air despite the fact they were surrounded by luxury at the palace.

However, Avohkii had an idea that previous night to surprise their cherished Countess. Walking down quietly to the palace kitchens, Avohkii’s mind remained pensive, with ideas before they settled down to work.

In the palace kitchens, there were pots and pans of every size, more spices than they could ever name, and an abundant amount of handheld tools from potato peelers to whisks to spatulas. It took them quite a bit to locate the ingredients required, but Avohkii was thrilled to be using such fine flour and sugar.

Even though they weren’t a professional chef, Avohkii enjoyed baking; they figured they could at least show the gratitude for everything their Countess had done for them.

ღ

The sweet aroma of the cookies wafted up to where Nadia was approaching curiously. The servants told her the most recently employed magician was currently doing something of interest in the kitchens. Avohkii glanced behind when he heard light footsteps approaching them; a gratifying, shy smile crossed their face their features. Her magenta eyes glimmering in amusement and happiness, Nadia returned the gesture. Reaching for their hands, she moved closer.

At that moment, the timer went off, signaling to take out the second batch of cookies. Avohkii held up a finger, telling Nadia to wait a second while he took the sheet out of the oven. Inhaling the delectable scent in amazement, Nadia watched the baker with great interest and admiration. With much joy, Avohkii fetched a cookie from the cooling rack and handed it to Nadia. She bit into it thoughtfully.

“This is absolutely palatable and most pleasing to my tastebuds,” she complimented. Beaming, Avohkii stepped closer to Nadia, who then added softly, “Avohkii, you...have some frosting on your lips. May I help you get it off?”

They nodded as Nadia moved in, softly biting their lip and wrapping her arms around them, allowing both of them to lose themselves in each other.

ღ

In another part of The Palace, another magician was busy at work. Aveana had been out in the early cold morning, attempting to accomplish things. Of course, Lucio, found a way to impede her efforts.

“Come with me, you look chilled,” Lucio slyly murmured in Aveana’s ear from behind her. She jumped slightly in surprise and turned, her large eyes meeting his. He stood arrogantly and with a smirk, his arms crossed confidently in the palace hallway.

“But, Nadia’s around,” she said, her voice low and worried.

“Do you really think I’d let her catch us together?” he scoffed superciliously, raising his eyebrows. She huffed and glanced down.

“Do you even know where she is?”

“Yes. She’s currently with Avohkii right now,” he replied, as if she should know this bit of information.

Ah, yes. Another magician Nadia had insisted on bringing to the Palace. She had long since grown a liking to him since, which gave Aveana and Lucio more chances to have secret rendezvous meetings.

Aveana rolled her eyes at the Count.

“Now, do you think we’ll get caught?”

“...no,” she muttered.

“Exactly. Come with me.”

Lucio guided the magician through the festively decorated hallways to his bathing quarters. Raising her eyebrows in silence, she followed as he held the door for her, and then locked it.

Aveana had seen most parts of the Palace, but Lucio’s private bathing chambers was an area where the majority of people weren't allowed. Like the rest of the place, it had small holiday decor around. She could see her own reflection along with the fairy lights in the shiny floor, if she really squinted.

“Aveana,” Lucio’s voice was soft and inviting, in contrast to his usual demeanor. “There's only one thing I need this Christmas...and it's you.”

“...Lucio…”

Lucio’s golden arm wrapped around Aveana, drawing her closer to The Count.

“You're shivering, still. What ridiculous this did you do now, take a nap outside in the snow at dawn?”

“You're hilarious.” she answered sarcastically. “I was out getting supplies earlier, before the rush.”

“Clearly didn't dress warm enough,” snorted Lucio. “Perhaps I can help out warming you up.”

Aveana bit her lip as Lucio moved to slip off her clothes.

“...I'd like that.”

ღ

Wren felt tired and slightly put out. The previous week had been tiring as they had been required to meet with Valerius and the other members of the Court, much to their dismay. Additionally, to add to the exhaustion, Wren had used the extent of their rune magic in attempt to extract the falseness and lies as well as achievement spiritual strength. Portia had done her best to ease Wren through it with tea and small pastries, giving them a sympathetic smile.

Day after day, Wren found themselves spending more and more time with the inquisitive handmaiden. Her good nature and cheerfulness seemed to rub off onto Wren frequently - they found themselves to be more optimistic and determined because of her. Of course, between both's habit of snooping, the two bonded quicker than either normally would.

This particular day, the sky was a rare blue and snow twinkled invitingly outside. It was impossible for Wren not to be near the windows to see the day stretch across the horizon like a painting.

“Hey, Wren!” Wren glanced up to see Portia dashing towards them energetically. “Would you like to come with me to go sledding outside for a bit?”

“Sledding?” Wren asked, unsure what it was.

“Yep,” confirmed Portia, “It��s sort of complicated to explain, but you’ll see it was.”

Out of mere curiosity, Wren put on their winter wear and then followed her outside, unsure of what to expect. Sledding, apparently, was hopping on a board and riding down the snow on the ground, usually on a hill. Portia showed them the first time round how to and with encouragement, Wren tentatively got on with her and went down the next hundred times or so.

The magician enjoyed the rushing of air on their cheeks and through their hair, and couldn’t help but flush slightly when he held onto the handmaiden for balance.

Later, both returned, red nosed, flushed, and delighted with the day’s events. Portia gave a smile and a wave before disappearing to finish the day’s duties. Wren didn't mind; it give them a chance to reflect over that afternoon.

Privately, they wished they could save those memories to keep forever and ever.

ღ

“Here we are,” Uma announced happily, glancing up at the doctor. Today, she had treated him to a special place she had always treasured.

“It’s...beautiful,” Julian murmured, his eyes glancing around at the magnificent sight. Icicles hung like lights from tree branches which were covered in heavenly white snow. The muted sunlight reflected off the crystalline lake and caused the snow around to almost shimmer and shine. Privately admiring it, the doctor leaned down gently touched the frozen lake. Uma strolled over to a nearby bench and dusted the white powdery snow off of it, before setting her bag down. She slipped on the smaller pair of ice skates she had brought with her.

“It reminds me of The Palace.” she noted thoughtfully. “The frozen lake has the same elegance and refined manner to it.”

“Does it?”

“It reminds me of others magicians I’ve met at the Palace, previously. Some of them were shy and quiet, but you could tell they had so many thoughts and ideas running through mind always.” Uma’s tone was hard to decipher - there were traces of melancholy and a reflective nature buried in it; nevertheless, she shook her head and gave the doctor a bright smile afterwards. “Anyways, come with me on the ice.”

Julian’s eyes widened. “Is it... safe?”

“You would know more than I, Doctor.” Uma giggled. “Kidding, it’s safe. You can tell by the way it’s frozen.” She pushed off of Julian, skating a graceful circle before returning to him. The doctor slipped on the bigger pair she had left for him before cautiously approaching her.

Meanwhile, Uma had skated around the lake, gaining speed before slowing down to help Julian, who promptly fell on his butt, onto the ice.

“We’ll go slow,” she promised with a light laugh. And so they did together, just like they were dancing. The doctor suspecting she might be using a tad bit of her magic to help him, but it was much appreciated.

Once he had gotten the hang of it, Julian felt like he was flying - flying with his one and only, Uma.

ღ

Back at the shop, Isla was humming a sweet lullaby as she she always did when Asra slept on her lap like always. Her fingers weaved mindlessly in and out of his soft hair; she observed each breath the magician took as he napped quietly. The fireplace crackled in the background comfortingly as night fell outside.

She glanced outside, wondering what could’ve happened if she had chosen differently in the past. Shaking her head at herself, she pursued her lips. No, she has definitely chosen right. Glancing down, she beamed at the fluffy bundle of a lover she had.

“I love holding you like this.”

He opened one eye.

“I love it, too.”

Had she said that out loud? She glanced away bashfully.

“Ah, embarrassed? No need to be, Isla.”

“I'm not embarrassed,” she protested. Chuckling, Asra took her hand gently feeling the smooth skin; Isla leaned down to kiss his hand.

“Where do you hide your wings, hm?” Asra asked, his eyes glimmering in amusement. Firelight was reflected within his magenta eyes, and his lips were slightly parted. As she brushed his forehead, Isla’s features revealed confusion.

“My...what?”

“Your angel wings.”

“...Asra.”

“I'm serious.” He smiled up at her face teasingly, reaching up to touch her red cheek.

“Asra, you always make me blush so much.” Isla giggled, flushing. She bit her lip, batting her eyes playfully. “Am I allowed to kiss you?”

“Mm, I don't know. You might be violating the laws of angels.”

“Perhaps you should punish me.”

Asra’s expression changed into a rare one of neediness. “Perhaps I should, Isla.” He sat up and pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. Kissing her collarbone delicately, Asra gently pushed her to the floor.

Isla bit her lip; she couldn't be any happier than she was now.

Outside, the snow fell persistently everywhere - at the shop, the Palace, and even in the forest.

Whether they had spent the day indoors or outdoors, it seemed like everybody in Vesuvia was happy sharing winter memories with each other. No matter how old they would grow, no matter where they went, everybody knew this day had been unforgettable.

#the arcana game #the arcana #julian devorak #magician asra #countess nadia #count lucio #muriel #portia devorak #fan apprentice #go follow all of the blogs i mentioned literally all of them are the best #<3 #winter memories #i think i originally wanted to add layers and shit but i ended up being lol no im done XD #god this is the epitome of suFFERING #xD pls enjoy ;;

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