#But Barty died a little more on the inside each and every time she did this

[unabletoforget]

I Miss My Lover Man

@pranking-masters

     Jillian sat with her knees pulled up to her chest in the corner of her ratty old couch, watching the smoke slowly rise from the half smoked cigarette between her fingers. She had smoked a few times here and there when she was younger but she had stopped when Harry was born, wanting to think of his health and be careful around him. But with Harry gone and most everyone she loved dead, why should she care for her health? She had picked the habit back up about a week after James and Lily died, having been too distraught up until then to even remember what a cigarette was. Remus tried to talk her out of it, to tell her that Lily had been so proud of her when she had quit. Her response, as she had so eloquently put it on that cold November day, was ‘Lily’s dead, it doesn’t matter anymore...nothing matters anymore.’

     She often wondered if that statement had been part of why Remus had left, wondered if he had gone away because he didn’t think he mattered to her at all anymore. It wasn’t that she stopped caring about Remus that day, it was the opposite in fact. She adored him so completely, he was all she had left, but it felt so much easier to cut herself off from the world that day. Lily died, James died, Peter died...and Sirius was to blame for it all. And not only had he betrayed their dearest friends, put their god son in danger, but he had killed all those muggles in the process. If he did it at all. No, he had to have done it. The Ministry had been so sure of it, especially Barty Crouch Sr. Well, then again, he wasn’t all there, was he?

     Barty Crouch Sr was a man hell bent on revenge, though she wasn’t quite sure what crime had been committed to make him so hell bent on such a mission. He was a wizard drunk on his power and authority in a time of extreme chaos. Hell, the man had even locked away his own son under the accusations of having been involved in the torture of Alice and Frank Longbottom. God, that was an entire other can of worms she didn’t want to open. Alice and Frank were her friends, and even thinking about them or hearing their names made Jillian’s chest feel tighter. When they had been attacked she knew the world had truly fallen apart, since even the fall of Voldemort had not ended the pain to their people. Damn the LeStrange family. And to think, if her mother had gotten her way, she would have been married to Rabastan as soon as she graduated. Thank Merlin for her rebellious nature. But...it wasn’t that alone that saved her, was it? No, it had been Lily and James, it had been Peter and Remus. It had been...it had been Sirius.

     Jillian swallowed thickly and took another drag of her cigarette, a long one that lasted so long she was surprised the entire thing didn’t burn out. She held the smoke in her lungs for so long it made her chest burn, preferring the physical pain in her body over the pain in her heart and in her soul. She sniffled softly, another tear rolling down her cheek as she flicked the ashes off of her cigarette into the tray she had balancing on the arm of the sofa she sat on. “You were doing so well,” she heard from the corner of the room. Jillian tensed at the sound of the overly kind voice ringing in her ears. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t true, it was all in her head. “You promised me you wouldn’t do this anymore,” the voice said again, a flash of red hair catching Jillian’s attention. She turned her head to see Lily standing in the corner of the room, her arms behind her back as she leaned on the wall.

     “And you promised me you would be safe. Guess we’re both liars,” she said bitterly, watching as Lily sighed heavily and shook her head. Lily always accused Jillian of being the dramatic one, which was mostly true, especially when she and Sirius got together. But Lily was partial to her own form of dramatics as well, she just wasn’t as theatrical about it as Jillian and Sirius were, not even as much as James really. 

     “I didn’t do that on purpose. This, this you are doing on purpose,” Lily said, pushing herself off the wall and slowly walking over to the sofa before sitting on the other side, Jillian not hesitating to take notice of the fact that she didn’t feel the weight in the sofa cushions shift. “Jilly...you have to stop punishing yourself for what happened.”

     “I can’t,” Jillian responded quickly, not daring to look at Lily as she stared at the dwindling cigarette in her hand. “I should have been able to save you. To save James and Peter and Harry...to stop Sirius,” she choked out. “He was my responsibility, just like James was yours. I...I should have been there. It should have been me, not you.”

     “Jilly Bean…” Lily whispered softly before Jillian cut her off.

     “No! It's true. You were always more useful to the Order than I was. Your potions were stronger than mine, you were better with people than me, you were a better soldier than I was...you were smarter than me. And if I was smart like you, you would still be,” she said softly.

     “That isn’t how it works and you know it,” Lily said firmly, causing Jillian to glance over at her. She was exactly how she remembered her. A face full of freckles, hair as fiery as her heart and green eyes as piercing as a sword. She wouldn’t have it any other way. “Even if you had been there, you couldn’t have saved me. You couldn’t have saved James. And Peter, well I wasn’t there for that but if all those muggles didn’t stand a chance then neither did he, so don’t you go feeling responsible for his death either,” she chastised. 

     Jillian stiffened as Lily talked about Peter, his sweet face flashing behind her eyes as she slumped further into the couch. “And as for Harry...well it turns out he didn’t need saving,” Lily said. And even though Jillian wasn’t looking at her, she could hear the smile in her voice. “That little boy made it out of the impossible. And he is going to be the strongest of us all someday. And if you don’t quit smoking, if you don’t take care of yourself and get out of this hell hole for a little while, you won’t be there when he needs you. Because Jill, he will need you. He will need you to guide him and love him, to protect him and take care of him because his father and I can’t,” Lily reasoned. 

     Jillian shifted as if uncomfortable, like she was trying to curl in on herself to keep away from Lily because she thought touching her might make her vanish. “I miss you,” Jillian said softly, barely above a whisper. “I miss talking to you.”

     “We’re talking right now, Jilly,” Lily pointed out with a tilt of her head. 

     “You’re not real. You’re in my head...a figment inside my mind.”

     “Well, of course I am,” Lily said, her smile brightening a bit as she spoke, making Jillian turn her head in confusion. “But why should that mean it isn’t real anyway?”

     Jillian felt tears balancing on her lower lashes before shaking her head, laughing softly. “I hate you,” she said.

     “No you don’t,” Lily responded smoothly. Just like old times. 

     “No...I don’t,” Jillian agreed, leaning her head back on the couch as she watched Lily. “I still miss you though.”

     Lily smiled, knowingly almost, like how a mother would look at a child. “I miss you too.”

     Jillian watched Lily with an ache in her chest, wishing she could just reach out and grab her hand. Lily always had soft hands, she wasn’t sure why she remembered that. Maybe it was because it fit so well with her gentle nature. Just like how she remembered James always had the best hugs and Peter always had the biggest appetite. “Jilly,” Lily said, causing Jillian to look up from her hands to her face. “We aren’t all gone, you know.”

     Jillian sighed and nodded “I know. I don’t mean to push Remus away I just...it's so hard to be a person around him when I worry maybe he blames me too. Even if he did, he would be too kind to say it,” she pointed out.

     Lily shook her head “He doesn’t and you know it. You two need each other, you should call him,” she pointed out. Jillian nodded but didn’t say anything, almost ashamed to know that she was right. Remus wasn’t the only one at fault here, she was too. “And Sirius isn’t dead you know...he can still come home.”

     Jillian flinched at the sound of his name as something tickled her mind, her head shaking “He betrayed you.”

     Lily shook her head and sat up a little bit better “You’ve been in love with him since we were fifteen years old, you know there isn’t an evil bone in his body. It's just me and you here, you can be honest...do you really believe he did it?” she asked slowly.

     Jillian swallowed thickly as her mind fell back to every beautiful moment she had ever had with Sirius, every moment where he had ever made her feel loved and beautiful. Each kiss, every time they made love, the way he whispered in her ear, even down to the look in his eyes when they held each other at night. That man wasn’t evil, that man wasn’t heartless, that man wasn’t a murderer. That man would never betray his friends. Jillian’s lower lip trembled as she shook her head “N-No,” she admitted. “I-I think it just...it’s easier for me to blame him. To say he did it rather than to think he...to think he is suffering in there for no reason. To think you...whoever betrayed you will never be brought to justice.”

     “But do you still trust him?” Lily asked plainly.

     Jillian felt a sense in her stomach that told her the answer to that one clearly. “W-With my life.”

     “And do you still love him?”

     That one was easy. “Always.”

     Lily slowly smiled again and nodded once, standing up from the couch, as if she was going to leave. “Then stop smoking. Because when Sirius gets out of prison, and that stubborn ass will get out, he will need a healthy girlfriend to take care of him. One that will fight by his side to get my son back. It’s going to be a long road, you should travel it with him. I wouldn’t have traveled the road I went down without James. Don’t go down this one without Sirius. Or without Remus. Harry will need all of you.” Lily nodded her head once and turned as if she was walking away towards the hall, causing Jillian to sit up quickly and press her cigarette into the ashtray, moving it to sit on the coffee table. 

     “Lils!” she said hurriedly, standing up but not following her because it wouldn’t do any good. She watched Lily turn around, catching those green eyes again. “What if I’m wrong?” she asked. “What if I’m wrong and he did it and I love him still?”

     Lily smiled warmly, shaking her head as if she had said something silly. “I know you better than anyone. You wouldn’t love a monster. And you adore him. You’re not wrong. He didn’t do this to me. But he is the only person who can help you find whoever did. He needs you, and you need him.” And like that, Lily seemed to fade right in front of her eyes. Jillian felt an ache in her stomach as she whimpered, holding her stomach as she fell back onto the couch, curling her legs up underneath of her. She was crying too hard to hear the front door opening, and even if she had heard it, she didn’t think she would believe it was real at this point considering her dead best friend just came to give her relationship advice. 

     No, none of it mattered now. And as Jillian cried into the couch, her body trembling and her heart broken, she realized that at the end of it all nothing had changed. She was all alone. 

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

Hoping for Home Ch 6 - “If I Didn’t Have You”

Sorry for the wait, guys! Catch up here!

Disclaimer: Just borrowing the characters except my originals.

 Song for this chapter: “If I Didn’t Have You” By Thompson Square

Tags: @ao719 @cocomaxley @leelee10898@fullbeaumonty @choiceswreckedme @ritachacha @itsstillnotwhatyouthink@blackcoffee85 @indiacater @drakesensworld @carabeth @daniv2278@cosigottahavefaith @gibbles82 @innerpostmentality@perfectprofessorherokid @darley1101 @jovialyouthmusic @liamxs-world@thequeenofcronuts @blznbaby @stopforamoment @zilch3382@wannabemc2 @jlouise88 @lodberg @jasieschoices

The lights of the private waiting room of Valtoria Medical were bright and mind-numbing. Not that Libby's mind was feeling much of anything other than fear and regret.

    She'd clung to Drake like a parasite since they'd gotten word. In the swirling vortex of everything that had happened to her the last couple of months, culminating in the accident, he seemed to be the only constant and so she allowed the warmth of his arms to be her anchor.

   The rest of the room was packed with courtly figures,people that she had considered friends in another life. Maybe she still did, even if the pain she'd caused them all had caused them to think of her differently.

            They'd been in the emergency room for four hours now, all of the children had been lucky in a manner of speaking. Bartie and McKenzie were virtually unscathed by the accident, a few bumps and bruises between them. Abel had a cracked rib. Will's right forearm had required twelve stitches where it had been pinned in the accident.

   Emma was, by far, the worst for wear. Preliminary scans had shown no signs of permanent brain damage nor any cerebral swelling or bleeding. However, she still had not woken up.

    The doctors told the duchess that her daughter seemed to be responsive to outside stimuli, which was an excellent sign, but they wouldn't know more until she awakened.

     “Can I have your jacket, Drake?” Libby asked raising her head off of his shoulder.

    “Sure, Scott.” He slouched the blazer from his shoulders and handed it to her. She stood to cross the room, intending to use the jacket to cover her son's sleeping form,but she paused when she watched Liam wriggle from his own coat and drape it across Will instead. Her heart stopped for a moment, taking in the way Liam cared for the young boy that he wasn't even sure was his son.

     Libby spun on her heels, handing the jacket back to Drake. “Nevermind.” She smiled softly as he draped the garment over his knee. “I'm gonna step outside for some air.”

     Drake stood from his seat, twisting his torso in a stretch before he draped his jacket over Libby's bare shoulders.

    “Keep it, then. It's cold out there, Scott.”

   She hugged the blazer closer offering her friend a warm smile. “You'll call me if she wakes up?”

  “Of course we will, Libby” Olivia told her as she placed her polished nails on her old friend's shoulders. “Take all the time you need. We'll come get you if anything changes.”

    Libby faced the Queen, her eyes darting back and forth over the woman's face. She noted the lines at the edges of Olivia's eyes that she hadn't sported in their youth. They were laugh lines, Libby assumed, and she couldn't help but wonder what must've changed for Olivia over the years for her to have gained them.

    “I can't tell you what this means to me. After everything I've done…”

    “You are our friend, Elizabeth. Emma is your daughter no matter which way everything else plays out so, come hell or high water, we're here for you. We can sort the rest out later.” Olivia said.

     Libby wandered outside, finding a small courtyard boasting a few benches and a gazebo. Seeking the refuge the small structure provided she made her way over to it. As she drew closer to it, she noticed a thin cloud of smoke hanging in the air just above it, the smell of nicotine  wafting by.

     Stepping inside she found Maxwell leaned against one of the railings. His thoughts seemed to be far off in the distance as he absentmindedly flipped the ashes off the end of his cigarette.

    “Those things will kill you one day, you know. Do you have another?”

     The brunette man peered over his shoulder at her, narrowing his eyes slightly. Against his better judgement, Maxwell pulled a silver case from his inner jacket pocket, popping it open to offer Libby what was inside.

    “Suppose you need a light too?” He grumbled placing his own bit of vice between his lips as he reached for his lighter.

    Libby took a long drag, exhaling the smoke out into the night sky.

    “Since when do you smoke?” She asked him desperate to break the silence.

   “Eh, my second wife was a social smoker. I picked it up from her. Usually I only smoke socially as well, but tonight…” Maxwell's voice trailed off as he planted his palms on the railing in front of him, leaning into it.

   “I know what you mean. I quit just before I came to Cordonia for the first time.”

     A silence hung between them, but somehow it was more peaceful than Libby imagined it would be. She watched as his shoulders subtly rose and fell with each breath, his dress shirt taut against the well defined muscles on either side of his neck.  She parted her lips to speak, the uncharacteristic stillness of the man who'd once stolen her heart beginning to make her uneasy, but nothing came out.

   He must have been feeling the same way because he exhaled loudly before whirling around to face her. Hopping up to sit on the railing he said, “I know this isn't exactly the best time to say this, but Libby, I've missed you. Every single day.

  I'm sorry for the way I behaved earlier, but the truth is...it doesn't matter. I'm just...I'm really happy to see you again.”

    She smiled softly at his confession, taking a step closer to him.

    “I'm really happy to see you again, too, Max.”

    She wanted to apologize profusely. To tell him all about the days - the years - she'd spent missing him too. However after the night's events, she found herself too emotionally drained to even begin.

    She dropped her cigarette, smashing it out with the toe of her high-heel.

   “Maxwell, I-.” Libby began, but was interrupted by the sound of stilettos clicking quickly over concrete.

   “Libby! Emma's awake. They said you can see her now.” Olivia huffed.

     Drake stopped at the coffee vending machine. Eyeballing the selections, he scoffed when he saw the chai latte button. The odd drink that started this whole mess.

  Liam came up behind him, leaning against the wall. “How is she holding up, Drake?”

    He sighed, running a hand over his chocolate locks. “Ya know. I mean, she's okay but she's upset. It was easy for me and Sav and Hana. Our kids were bruised, but they're fine. Emma is…”

   Drake and Liam both averted their gazes the what if too much for either to bare while looking at the other.

    “I'll stay with her, Li. I know that it's not exactly something you can do at this juncture.”

   Liam smirked and shot his best friend a bit of side eye. “Oh I have no doubt that you will stay by Libby's side. I just wonder if you aren't doing it more for yourself at this point.”

    Drake furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?”

   Liam continued to smile smugly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

   “Liam it isn't like that. Libby is my friend. And ya know, not for nothing but I did pry her from her life and all but force her back here. So excuse me if I feel a little bit responsible for her.”

   The king chuckled. “As I'm sure Maxwell felt responsible for her all those years ago, old friend.”

   Drake shook his head with an eye roll. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”

     In a flash Libby was at Emma's bedside, her petite fingers grazing through the young girl's blonde hair.

   “Mama, I'm so so sorry.” Emma croaked.

   “Shhhhhhh-sh-sh. None of that. I'm just so happy you're all okay.”

  “Your Grace, I have ordered an MRI. Assuming things look normal on that end I would say you can take the Lady home tomorrow. I would like to keep her here until then for observation. Typically with a concussion-” Doctor Monroe was interrupted by the sound of the door clicking open, revealing Liam and Maxwell on the other side.

   Monroe offered a deep bow as the men made their way into the room.

   “I apologize for the intrusion. I hope it's okay that we've come.” Liam said, nodding to the doctor.

   Libby smiled, turning her eyes back to the caretaker.

   “Typically with a concussion we don't see such a significant loss of consciousness, so I just want to be sure there isn't more going on than meets the eye. For now, she just needs rest. I'll give you all a few moments.”

     Doctor Monroe stepped out of the room and the door clicked behind him.

   “How are you feeling?” Maxwell asked, taking a stance at the foot of her bed.

   “Honestly I'm fine. A little bit sleepy, but... Mom?” Emma answered and Libby quirked an eyebrow.

   “I don't really know how all of this courtly stuff works, but that nurse that saw me before you came in...she said I'm lucky to be alive. That means I could've died tonight and I never would have found out which one of you is my father. I'm not okay with that. Can we just do a paternity test? Please? We're at the hospital anyway, and I know that maybe this isn't the best time but-.”

  “I agree with her, Libby. Ultimately the decision lies with you, but after tonight's events... I'm very keen to find out myself. Maxwell?” Liam butted in.

   The dark haired man was staring into the distance and he shook his head at the mention of his name.

   “I wasn't going to bring it up given the circumstances, but yeah. The sooner the better.”

     Libby chewed her bottom lip. Scanning her daughter's face she found nothing but certainty, a rare trait for a person of her age. Slowly the nodded her head.

   “I don't see why we can't bring it up with Dr. Monroe in the morning, before you're discharged.”

       Will was curled up next to his sister when the doctor entered the room.

     “So what exactly are you going to do? Draw some blood?” He asked as the man washed his hands, applying a fresh set of sterile gloves. He picked up two kits from the counter and faced the twins.

    “I'm going to swab your cheek. One tiny in and out, that's all.” Monroe explained.

   “ And that's it? Then we'll know who our dad is?” Will shifted his weight suddenly very anxious.

   “Well we will have to swab the men on question. All of the samples will be sent to our lab for analysis. The results usually take 4-6 weeks. Then you will know who your dad is.”

   Emma squeezed her brother's hand, calming him by measures.

    Libby smiled from her chair in the corner. She had always been amazed by their ability to always know just what the other needed.

   “It's okay to be nervous.” She told her children.

   “Well if you had done this a long time ago we wouldn't need to be.” Will scoffed.

   “Will, don't.” Emma scolded and he rolled his eyes.

    After marking and packaging each sample, Dr. Monroe headed towards the door.

   “I'll have these sent priority, Your Grace. As I said, we should know something in 4-6 weeks. In the meantime, you're free to take young Emma home. There are some papers waiting for your signature at the nurse's station.”

   “Thank you, Monroe.” Libby started turning towards her children. “I'll be back in a few. Will, help your sister get ready, please.”

    She strode down the corridor headed for the nurse's station when she saw Liam round the corner.

   “Ah, Libby. I was hoping to speak with you. The doctor informed me that it could take some weeks to get out results.”

    “That's right, Your Majesty.”

    “Please,that's not necessary. We're discussing whether your children are my children, I think we're beyond pleasantries.”

  The redhead grinned at the ridiculousness of the whole situation as the king continued.

   “In any event, Olivia and I would like to invite you and the twins to stay at the palace while we await the results. It would give me some time to get to know your children better.”

    Libby tilted her head.

   “If I find that they are mine and I've squandered this time that I could've shared with them because I wasn't sure I will never forgive myself, Lib. At the end of the day I don't feel I will have lost anything at all by getting to know them if it turns out that they are Maxwell's children, and I would love the opportunity no matter the results. What do you say?”

   “I…” she paused a moment. “How many security vehicles does the King's Guard house at the palace?”

  Now was Liam's turn to be confused as he cocked his head to the side.

   “Twelve. But why does that matter?”

   “Well although I'm grateful that they escaped with their lives the fact remains that they are teenagers that stole a car and wrecked it. I will still have to punish them. Washing and waxing twelve card seems severe enough.”

  Liam laughed, his blue eyes twinkling beneath the fluorescent lights of the hallway. “Wait. You're- you're not joking.”

   Libby raised a brow. “I most certainly am not. We'll be there tomorrow morning. Thank you for the invitation, Liam.”

   He turned to leave, bouncing on the balls of his feet when he remembered. “Oh. I should tell you that I've invited Maxwell to stay as well. He seemed keen to seize the opportunity as well, though he has neither accepted nor denied my invitation. Just thought I should give you a heads up.”

     Libby waved her hand flippantly. “That won't be a problem. I don't know why you think otherwise.”

    Liam let out a laugh from deep within him. “Of course, Your Grace. How silly of me to think that it would be.”

[mrswalkers-blog]

Falling in Love with you

Chapter 7 -  The Past (NSFW)

Book: The Royal Romance ( Drake x MC & Liam x Olivia)

Summary:  Drake meets Savannah at House Beaumont. She assures him that he should not doubt Riley. 

Warnings: NSFW 

A/N: Thanks for still being with me. I thought my story was dying and had stopped writing it. But some of you urged me to write. So here it is again. I hope I do justice to the story.

I am not a writer and English is not my first language. So feel free to share your feedback positive or negative.

Word Count:  ???

FaceClaim: Drake Walker - Daniel Di Tomasso

Riley Walker (Brooks) - Katrina Kaif

King Liam Rhys - Daniel Henney

Olivia Rhys (Nevrakis) - Emma Stone

Previous Chapter: Prologue – The Fight,

Chapter 1- The Accident,

Chapter 2 - Riley’s birthday

Chapter 3 - Who am I?

Chapter 4 - Homecoming

Chapter 5 - Lost (NSFW)

Chapter 6 - Away

About Two Years Ago

It had been three months since the day Olivia and Liam got engaged. Liam and Olivia announced their engagement a month before, with their engagement photo shoot and several interviews. The interviews were professionally crafted to let the people know that both of them are in love with each other, but they love Cordonia more. A perfect childhood love story with some well-written anecdotes was published in all the leading newspapers and magazines. Liam and Olivia were all over the news last month. Business Magazines gave a promising forecast on how their economy is going to boom with Lythikos Duchess marrying the Rhys King. Fashion magazines ran special articles describing the diamond-studded asymmetric one-shoulder red dress that Olivia wore in their engagement photo shoot. 

Each and everyone in Cordonia was happy that their King has found a Queen. Every face was smiling with a new found energy in Cordonia, except one, Duchess Olivia. It had been three months since their engagement and all they had shared was some 15-20 phone calls and a few kisses on three or four dates. Liam would visit Lythikos every few weekends and spend some time with Olivia. They would go to Marcellino, have dinner, talk mostly about how they want to announce their engagement, Liam would drop her back at the estate and leave for Palace. This time, she wanted a little more. She ran a conversation with Liam again and again in her head of how she will convince him to stay the night. 

She took a deep breath when she saw Liam’s name flashing on her mobile to calm herself. She picked it up, ‘Hey!’

Hi, Olivia!’ she could almost see his smile on the other side of the phone.‘I hope you are free this Friday.’ he said as he usually did asking her for a date.

‘Liam,’ Olivia took a deep breath before saying,’ I was hoping you can stay the night this time.’

Olivia waited for Liam to speak, but she got no response for several unbearable seconds. She regretted immediately for asking  ‘I understand if you are busy.’ she said ’you don't need to...’

‘No, I think I can... I will love to stay the night, Olivia.’ Liam said, not letting the unsurety in his mind reaching his voice.

‘We will have dinner at the estate if that's okay?.’ Olivia said

‘That sounds good..’ Liam said. They chatted for a few minutes before disconnecting the call.

---

On Friday, when Liam reached Lythikos for their date,  his jaw dropped when his eyes fell on Olivia. She was wearing a deep V halter backless top with jeans instead of her usual dresses.  Her untied soft red curls rested on her bare shoulders. He smiled as he realized Olivia is waiting for him to say something.

‘You look amazing!’ Liam said, unable to hide his surprise.

‘Thanks. Come!’ Olivia gestured him to join her.

After a hearty romantic dinner at her dining room, She looked at Liam with a shy smile,’Want to come for a tour of my estate?’

Liam joined her,’ Is there any part I haven't seen yet?’

‘I guess there is, come!’

Liam followed Olivia to a room, he knew was her. When Olivia closed the door and turned, she found herself face to face with Liam. She pressed her lips to his with a little more force than intended, making Liam fumble a step back.

‘Sorry, I ....’ Olivia began, but her words were lost when Liam's lips found hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him close. Liam’s hands roamed on her bare back, sending jolts of pleasure throughout her body. She found her knees going week in his embrace. She raised one of her legs and wrapped it around his waist. Liam grabbed her other leg and helped her wrap it around his waist. She shook her legs removing her heels, all the while kissing him deeply.

He carried her and dropped her on the bed. Olivia sat up, looking at him undressing in front of her. Olivia bit her lip as her eyes roamed on his taut muscles of his abs, down to his boxers.

‘Do you need help getting out of it?’ Liam smiled mischievously seeing Olivia hadn't started undressing.

‘Yes, I guess.’ She said, avoiding his gaze. Liam crawled on the bed to her on his fours. He gently lifted her top helping her out of it, freeing her breasts. She pressed her body against his, kissing him passionately. Liam’s lips roamed from her lips to her neck down to her breast. He sucked on a nipple a little before going down her stomach.

Liam helped her out of her jeans. His started kissing her legs just above her knees and went up to her thighs. He gently removed her panties and rubbed his fingers on her moist entrance. He licked his finger before sliding it in.

‘Liam!’ she moaned as his finger rubbed her insides. Liam rubbed her clitoris with his other hand and slid in his second finger. Olivia grabbed the sheets with her hands as his fingers filled her.

Liam moved a little up, with his one hand inside of her and other going up to her breast. He gently pinched a nipple, gaining a moan from Olivia.

‘Is this good?’ he asked her in a whisper. ‘Yes!’ she moaned. Liam kept rubbing, curling his fingers a little, making Olivia buck her hips. He kissed her all over her body as his fingers kept rubbing her till he felt her core going tight on him and Olivia shouting out his name. 

Olivia moved to get close to Liam, her hands roamed on his chest and back before grabbing his boxers. She pushed them down, releasing his length. She rubbed his length with her hand. She ran her tongue up his length. She enveloped him in her mouth, sucking him while rubbing him with her hands.

‘Liv! you are amazing!’ Liam groaned looking at her. He lifted her up by her chin and kissed her.’Are you ready for me?’ he asked, his hands teasing her entrance. ‘Yes, my King!’ she said biting her lip seductively.

She opened a drawer from her nightstand and pulled out a condom. She licked him again after sliding it on him.

‘Get on your fours for you King’ Liam commanded her which she happily obeyed.  Liam grabbed her from her waist and pushed himself deep inside her wet core filling her completely.

‘Oh Fuck!’ she screamed. Liam started moving in and out of her slowly. 

‘Harder, my King!’ Olivia moaned. This drove Liam to the edge. He started thrusting harder inside her, holding her tightly from her waist. After a few moments, Liam felt Olivia going tight against him as she screamed his name. Liam too came inside of her a few thrusts later. They collapsed on the bed, drenched in sweat, completely content. 

Liam went to the washroom to clean himself. When he returned, he found Olivia peacefully sleeping on her bed. He covered her naked body and laid down beside her. He fell asleep, keeping a little distance between them.

When Olivia woke up the next morning, she was disappointed to see a note from Liam on her bed, instead of Liam himself.

‘Sorry I had to leave early - Liam’ 

-----

Now

Drake left early from Valtoria with a security guard and a driver. He would have loved driving on the highway, but he had promised Riley that he will not go alone. He wondered if a Duke’s life had sucked all freedom from him. He slept through the drive on the back seat to keep his mind wandering off.

When he reached Beaumont house, he found it oddly empty. There was no one to be seen. He had dropped a message to Savannah informing her of his arrival. But she too was nowhere to be seen.

He ringed the bell but got no response. He found the door open and peeked inside.

‘Savannah!’ he called her. Suddenly he saw Bartie running out of a room, topless and Savannah charging behind him carrying a shirt.

Drake leaped and scooped up Bartie in his arms. ‘Drakie!’ the toddler squeaked.

‘Are you harassing Mommie?’ he asked his nephew. He shook his head innocently. ‘Mommie is harassing me. I don't want to wear that shirt.’

‘God! he is a handful!’ Savannah said, hand on her waist, panting.

‘Sorry I was giving him a bath. Please help me get him dressed.’ Savannah requested Drake. 

‘Bartie, is there any other shirt you would rather wear?’ Drake carried the toddler to his room. ‘I want to wear my Captain America t-shirt!’ he jumped down when they entered his room. He opened a drawer and pulled out a black t-shirt with Captain America shield printed on it.

‘Daddy doesn't like when you wear a t-shirt, Bartie!’

‘Let him wear it Savannah.’ Drake turned to Bartie.

‘You know I like Captian America too!’ he said helping him in the t-shirt.

‘You are going to spoil the kid!’ Savannah chuckled. She made an angry face to Drake although she was clearly relieved that Bartie was not running around topless.

 ‘Come, I have made coffee and breakfast for you.’ she said to Drake, holding Bartie’s hand and leading them to the dining room.

‘Savannah, Why is Beaumont house so empty? Where is your staff?’ he asked following her sister to the dining room.

‘We cannot afford staff. I have a maid who comes and cleans the rooms that we use. We have closed off many rooms.’ she said walking to the dining room. She filled Drake in about the financial condition of Beaumont house. 

‘Where is Bertrand?’ Drake asked.

‘He has gone for some business. He is working hard to sustain our lives.’

‘Savannah, is there something I can do? I don't know, but I am a Duke. I can lend you money.’ he said with a concern in his voice, taking his seat on the dining table.

‘Bertrand didn’t accept money even from Maxwell. He wants to do this on his own.’ Savannah said giving some cereal to Bartie.

‘I am sorry to see you like this. It must be hard for you.’ Drake said with concern in his eyes. He knew Savannah always wanted a life for royalty. When he found out that he is married to Bertrand, whom he never liked, he thought at least she has a life she always wanted. But instead, she is going through a hard time.  

‘No, it’s not that bad. We are happy. We have enough money to keep us going. We still are Duke and Duchess. It’s just a hard time, it will pass.’ Savannah said waving her hand, smiling. She placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Drake and one for herself and took her seat in front of  Drake. 

Drake didn't say anything, but Savannah seemed to read his mind.

‘Drake, I knew what I was getting into. Bertrand told me everything about his financial condition. I didn’t marry him because he is a duke. I married him because I love him.’ Savannah smiled at him reassuringly. Her eyes moved from Drake to Bartie who had spilled half cereal on the table while trying to feed himself, she chuckled and moved to help Bartie. Drake saw a content on her face, as she wiped the toddler clean and helping him feed himself. Drake’s heart warmed looking at her. 

He wasn't sure how to ask her about his doubts about Riley. He stared at the plate in front of him, before something came to his mind.‘Where is Maxwell, I haven't seen him since my accident.’ 

‘He is backpacking across Western Europe. He stays out of reach for days.’ Savannah took her seat in front of him.

‘Backpacking? Maxwell? is this the same Maxwell we are talking about?’ Drake quirked an eyebrow.

‘He is searching for a story. He is a writer now.’ she chuckled seeing the surprise on Drake’s face.

‘Are you kidding me?’ Drake laughed, shaking his head. His laugh faded as a strained expression took over his feature. Savannah realized he hadn't visited her for this. ‘By the way, what was that you wanted to talk about?’ Savannah asked him.

‘I... I am facing a hard time placing my self in my new life.’ Drake rubbed his forehead.

‘I can understand.’ Savannah said placing a hand on his, ‘So, don't you remember anything?’

‘No. Nothing.’ he said leaning back on his chair.’ And that place! it feels like a prison.’ he covered his face with his hands.

‘What are you talking about? That's the place you called your home!’ 

Drake took a deep breath. He was supposed to feel home in a strange estate with a strange woman who was his wife. But nothing of that place felt like home. And he couldn't ignore the things he had heard from Madeliene and from Riley. 

‘Have you talked this with Riley? About how you feel?’ Savannah broke the silence.

‘No’ Drake looked down, trying to find words to ask her.

‘You should talk to her.’ she said, trying to read his face.

‘Savannah, about her. Do you know how was our relation?’ he asked.

‘Drake, you are the happiest couple I know. I often told you that seeing you too together, reminded me of mom and dad.’ She smiled reassuringly.

‘Savannah was Riley involved with...Liam?’ he thought it was best to ask her directly. 

‘Drake, why are you having this conversation with me? You should be talking to Riley about this.’ Savannah’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

‘Please, Savannah, I need to know, I...I don't think I can trust her.’ he looked at her pleading.

‘Drake, Riley came to Cordonia as Liam’s suitor. House Beaumont had sponsored her. I first met her when you came to my apartment with her in Paris. Liam was engaged to Madeliene at that time.’ 

He remembered that Madeliene mentioned Riley was Liam’s mistress when they were engaged. He swallowed as he asked her,’Was she Liam’s ... was she with Liam when we came to Paris?’

‘Drake, I don't know much, but when I returned to court, I could see that you two were already in love.’ she said. She had no clue how she can make him believe her. Then a thought came to her. ‘Wait a minute. Please watch Bartie. I will be back in a minute.’ she said and walked out as fast as she could. She came back with the same speed, with a book with Maxwell’s picture on it.

‘Read this, It should have all your answers. ‘ she handed him the book - The Royal Romance.

‘Wha’s this?’ Drake looked at the book and turned it over to read the back.

‘It is Riley’s story. Your story. I haven't read it yet. Just completed first few chapters. It's difficult to get time, you know, with Bartie and taking care of the house.’ she said, picking up Bartie.

‘Thanks, I guess I should take your leave now.’ he said, holding the book in his hands.

‘Drake, Riley loves you. I know it. Don’t doubt her. Just give her a chance, okay?; Savannah said giving him a short hug. ‘Everything will fall back to its place. Just hang in there.’ 

Drake kissed her forehead before leaving for the Palace.

----

Drake sat on the back seat of the car with the book in his lap. He read Riley’s story in Maxwell's words through the entire ride. He read through the stories of Riley moving to Cordonia and winning hearts of people at court as well as in media in Social Season. Although not mentioned clearly, he realized that Liam was planning on proposing Riley on his coronation. If the pictures of Tariq scandal hadn't leaked, Liam would have proposed her. 

He closed the book before reading ahead. He knew that Liam always got what he wanted. He knew that Liam would not have let her go if he had fallen for her. He feared that if he read further, he would not be able to handle the truth. He kept the book on the side. He looked outside the window, Palace was still far, he closed his eyes trying to take a nap.

Just forget about it. Maybe Savannah is right. She does love me He thought

He remembered how she took care of him in hospital. Always there for him, even though, he didn't remember her, acted with her as if they had just met. He remembered the kiss they shared in their bedroom.

She is a strong, confident, beautiful women. If Liam was interested in her, how did she end up with me?

He sat up and took the book. He read through the next chapters where suddenly the focus had changed from Riley and Liam to Riley and him. There were mentions of Liam with Madeleine, but no mention of Riley being his mistress. He read through the anecdotes of how they fell in love while trying to find Tariq. How they slowly warmed up to each other and realized that they were in love. He smiled reading about her, he realized she was a kind-hearted, confident woman. She was completely different from the women he had met in the court. He started admiring her, he could see how he could have fallen for her.  

The book had a one-line mention of Liam breaking off his engagement with Madeleine because he realized that she was not a better person to be a Queen. Everyone had speculated why Liam hadn't proposed Riley. But they didn't disclose it. King Liam although announced that Riley will be the new Duchess of Valtoria. 

Drake skipped through the description of the Homecoming Ball until he noticed that an assassination attack happened that night at the palace. He read the paragraph that mentioned him taking the bullet for her. His hand went to his shoulder where the bullet had hit him. He had noticed the wound earlier but hadn't given it much of a thought. He realized he must be in love with Riley to risk his life for her. 

He was sure by now that he was in love with her. But was she too in love with him? Why would a woman as astonishing as her, who had King Liam head over heels for her, would ever want to be with him? He was a nobody. He had nothing to offer her. Then why? Why did she marry him instead of Liam? 

He hoped to find answers to these as his car entered the Palace grounds. He closed the book and looked out of the car window at the Palace he had lived most of his life. Hopefully, King Liam will have some answers for him.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Pixelberry.

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[the-everlasting-dream]

The Revelation - TRR AU, Part 9

Summary: Drake deals with the consequences of his rash outburst and tries to rectify his actions but it seems that fate has other plans..

A/N: Surprise I posted early! Remember that bad idea I had? Yea well here it is... 

FC for Poppy Patel: Katrina Kaif. 

Word Count: 4900+

Warnings: None just angst. 

SERIES MASTERLIST

He still couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that Elizabeth had really left… 

Actually that wasn’t true, Drake interrupted himself. 

It was him… He had left her. 

He just couldn’t help it when he’d seen her kissing Liam in the study, it was like his brain went into autopilot and it, the anger,  had come, white hot coursing through his veins to see her with him, blocking every rational thought to make way for his cutting response, driven in hard enough to show her how bitter and broken he really was.   

Drake had later admitted to himself rather shamefully, selfishly, that in the moment it had given him some perverted sense of satisfaction to see her reaction to his words. As Elizabeth’s face contorted into shock at his reply, it brought him pleasure to see that for once it wasn’t just him hurting, to see that she was finally understanding even a small share of the pain that he’d been through over the last few months. Wasn’t this what he’d been waiting for? To see her begging him to come back to her? To have her pleading as desperately as he’d done during all those weeks when she was in a coma? 

 She’d done all those things and yet… it hadn’t been enough. In the moment his anger riddled brain decided, it hadn’t been enough…  

She hadn’t hurt enough. 

And almost like he was taking something that was owed to him, he delivered his final blow, harsh enough to drive the point home, the look of despair on her face reassuring him that his shot had flown true.   

When the fire under his skin had finally died down, Drake was left with the shocking consequences of his actions and impending guilt for how he had acted. As it weighed down on him, twist of bitter humour curled on his lips, bubbling up from somewhere deep since him. If he didn’t know any better, Drake would think it was like he wanted to ruin his own life. He’d driven the only woman he’d ever loved - the only one he ever would love - away just because he couldn’t keep his head. The anger had dissipated soon after he’d made it back home, leaving in its place an unexplainable pain. Drake thought he’d felt pain before - the last few weeks had been rough to say the least but this… 

 This was on another level entirely.   

And the shame… utter shame at his behaviour towards her. 

It only hit him now.. when it was too late. He’d always been a bit of a hot head and he’d let the anger get the best of him. In the past, nobles and other condescending bodies had called a brute, a boor, many other derogatory names but he'd scoffed at them because at heart they didn’t know him, they never would know him. But now he really deserved them all. His behaviour had been inexcusable and Elizabeth’d had every right to leave. Who was he to stop her? 

He’d done many stupid things in the past but nothing measured up to this. Not even - dare he say it - sleeping with Kiara, the fateful event that had stared them on this destructive path. That he could have blamed on the alcohol, a cowardly snivelling excuse though it was to make him feel better.   

But this time he couldn’t hide behind that. This time he’d done it stone cold sober. 

This time it was his fault. His fault and no one else. 

Not Liam's, not Elizabeth's but his alone.

-

So Drake did what he always did. Retreated back into himself, spent hours upon hours in the recesses of his own mind to attempt to get rid of all the things he didn’t want to feel. Time blurred together and all too often he found himself reliving the same day again and again, falling into a routine of sorts.

Wake up. Eat. Work. Sleep. 

Wake up. Try not to think of it. Eat. What had he been thinking? Work. Was she okay? Sleep. Did she miss him too? 

Most days the pain was a dull ache in the back of his mind like a pulse and on the best ones, he managed to forget it entirely as he threw himself carelessly into any task he could. But when he was at his worst… words couldn’t describe the things he felt. 

Drake felt a darkness accumulating inside him, the kind when one spends too much time inside their own head, turning the events over and over, tipping memories on every angle to attempting to gain some understanding of the truth where it could not be found. It was a poignant sort of loneliness really, the kind that hung over him the moment he let his mind go empty. 

He tried to convince himself that he worked best alone, that he was best alone. He didn’t need anyone, least of all her. But late at night he’d find himself climbing onto the roof of the house, gazing into the night sky above, silently pleading with the moon, that wherever Elizabeth was, she was okay and in his heart of hearts, he hoped that she was doing the same and missing him like he was, even if it was only a fraction.

With each day he retreated further and further into himself, descending into the darkness inside him. This time no one came knocking at his door, no friendly Hana or Maxwell or Liam. 

 Liam… 

 God he couldn’t even think of his best friend without bringing up a world of pain that was attached to his name. Their friendship had been strained at best after Elizabeth left and both actively avoiding each other save for rare occasions where formalities required them to be in the same room together. Even then they kept their distance each loathe to look into the other’s eyes lest they find a copy of their own misery mirrored there. 

Liam was a better man than he, Drake decided. He put on a good front for the outside world, taking everything in stride, this setback barely seeming to ruffle his feathers as he guided Cordonia through her journey towards recovery. There was much to do even with the perpetrators apprehended and though Liam wore the crown well, Drake knew his best friend well enough to see that he was fighting his own demons, written in the lines of worry that became deeper and deeper every day as they both fought to hold back the many feelings inside them. 

Though he longed to comfort the king, be his shoulder to cry on like he had for so many years but they both he was far too volatile to attempt such an endeavour, not when the matter was so close to home, for both of them. So it was like a stalemate of sorts, neither wanting to admit what they both so obviously felt, separated by the consequences of their actions in an silent agreement to never speak of this again.

-

Unsurprisingly it was his sister that pulled him out of his moody ways. Drake taken to visiting her every so often, playing with Bartie always helped things and though Savannah had attempted to address it before, he’d brushed her off with a meaningful look or comment but not this time. 

‘So that’s it huh?’ She confronted him one day and he saw the fire building in her grey eyes as they settled their defiant gaze on him. ‘You’re just gonna give up?' 

‘Sav can we just drop this?’ He sighed, unwilling to listen. He was exhausted and the last thing he wanted was to get in a fight with her too. 

 His sister crossed her arms defiantly. ‘No, we cannot Drake. You’ve been avoiding this for too long.’ 

He shook his head, reaching towards the kitchen cabinet. Savannah was a Walker after all and he knew she’d have a bottle of whiskey somewhere in her house. If she was going to do this, he needed a drink. ‘I don’t know what you’re expecting from me.. There’s nothing I can do.’ 

‘Drake!’ Savannah shrieked indignantly and he spun around, bottle in hand to see her gesturing towards Bartie who was playing in his high chair. She continued to glare at him as he apologetically returned the bottle to its place. ‘Thats bullshit and you know it. You love Elizabeth, you can’t just let things end like this'. 

‘What do you expect me to do?’ Drake burst out, spinning on his heel, anger and resentment at his sister finally breaking through the surface. 

‘I expect you to at least try Drake! Come on! You and Elizabeth belong together. You have to go after her,’ she yelled back with just as much ferocity. 

He scoffed, dismissively at her. Surely his sister wasn’t that naive. ’This isn’t one of your fucking rom coms Sav where everything magically gets better and they go riding off into the sunset.’ 

‘It may not be,’ Savannah shot back. ‘But you have to at least try!’ 

Drake rolled his eyes sarcastically. ‘Oh really? What makes you so sure that would change anything huh?’ 

He watched Savannah’s eyes fall to the ground, her posture deflating a little and when she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. ‘It would have worked for me…That's what I'd hoped Bertrand would have done for me.’ 

His anger disappeared as she raised her large soulful eyes to his and he saw the truth in the tears gathering there. He’d been so caught up in his own troubles he’d failed to see that she was struggling with ones of her own. 

‘Oh Sav,’ his voice was quiet and he gathered her into his arms. They stayed like that awhile until Bartie’s impatient squeal interrupted their tender moment. 

‘Go after her Drake,’ Savannah said suddenly, gripping his arm tight, troubled eyes compelling him to listen. ‘Promise me you will at least try.' 

‘I will,’ he promised. How was he supposed to say anything but yes?

-

This really did seem so much easier in the movies.  After making sure that Savannah was alright, he’d jumped on the first plane to New York, invigorated by his sister’s words and eager to win the woman he loved back. As the plane made its long journey across the Atlantic, Drake felt anxiety build within him with each mile they drew closer to New York. He still didn’t know if this was the right decision... Was he even allowed to want her back? 

More pressing concerns floated in his mind however and the entire time during the flight he’d tried to picture Elizabeth's reaction, gauge how she’d respond. Would she take him back? Would she laugh at him for being all the cliches she knew he hated? Or worse, would she have that vacant look in her eyes the moment they settled on him? Drake gulped. That look haunted him well into the night, on many nights when he lay sleepless, in what sleep he was able to get, it was there even in his dreams. He didn’t know if he would be able to see that again… 

It was only when the plane touched down that Drake realised he had absolutely no plan. He’d been so caught up in the moment in the flurry of his own thoughts that he hadn’t realised what a big task finding Liz would have been in such a huge city. For a few moments he stood in the arrival hall awkwardly, unsure of what to do. They never showed this part in movies, he grumbled to himself finally shaking himself from his stupor and calling a cab to begin the search for her. 

-

Drake soon found himself outside Elizabeth’s old bar. He shifted uncertainly on his feet. With its newly renovated facade he’d barely recognised it from that night ages ago but it was the only place he could think of that she’d be. They never talked much about her life in New York so he had no idea where she actually lived. He could have asked Liam where her apartment was - he’d been there to drop her off on the night of his bachelor party so many months ago but this presented two problems. The chances of Elizabeth still living there would have been quite low and… he wasn’t ready to face Liam... not yet. He’d stood out there for so long that passerbys on the street began to give him strange looks and in a flash of blind hope he pushed at the heavy wooden door only to find the place… empty. 

Drake’s stomach dropped. What had he been expecting to find really?  He shook his head, chiding himself for being so naive, for getting his hopes up, placing all his expectations on a whim only to be disappoin- 

‘Hey buddy ya gonna stand there all day or do you wanna drink?’ Drake started to see a girl behind the counter, wiping a mug and eyeing him suspiciously. 

 ‘One whiskey, neat,’ he told her taking a seat at the bar. When his drink arrived, he took a deep draught this time, considering his options. 

He had none really… New York was a place and Elizabeth could be anywhere, heck he didn’t even know if she was even in town or if he’d just wasted his own time trying to find her when instead she was miles ahead. He’d attempted to call her earlier after finally mustering up the courage to click the little green button but it immediately went to voice mail and he’d given up. 

‘Can I get you anything else sir?’ The waiter asked and Drake shook his head wordlessly before raising his eyes to find that he recognised the person serving him. He wracked his brain, trying to go back months ago. Derek, David, Dan… Daniel! 

He detected a hint of recognition in the waiters eyes and Drake couldn’t help himself. ‘Have you seen Elizabeth?’ 

Daniel shifted, not meeting his eyes. ‘Yea she came in a few weeks ago, not for long though.’ 

 The spark of hope was back. Maybe this waiter could help him.. ‘Do you know where she lives?’ 

His companion shook his head. ‘No idea, sorry.’ 

Drake fought to urge to question him further, sensing that there was more he wasn’t saying, but the man already looked so terrified and remembering the last time he’d tried to push someone for answers, he stopped himself, instead placing a few bills on the table. 

‘Keep the change.’  

-

Drake didn’t know how far or how long he’d wandered before he saw her. Caught up in his own miserable thoughts and just when he was about to give up and call it a day, he heard a peal of laughter amidst the sounds of the busy city. He knew that laugh and his eyes went flying to locate its owner and after a few seconds landed on… 

Elizabeth. 

Clad in a black leather jacket, red top and jeans, she looked more like herself than Drake had ever seen her. She looked so happy, so free. And in the moment it jarred Drake to remember that she had a life before Cordonia one as vivid as his own, a family, friends, other people who’d had a piece of her long before she’d ever became his. Seeing her at the florist's, perusing the bouquets, bright eyes flitting across the selections, he was almost afraid to disturb her, feeling a bit like Schrodinger’s cat in the moment. As long as she stood there and he stood here, Elizabeth neither rejected or affirmed him. 

But to think that they could stay in this moment forever was wishful thinking. Locked in the moment, he could only watch as another man came up to her and Drake flinched slightly as his arm came around her waist, like his had so many times. Elizabeth smiled up at the man, a smile he knew well and Drake couldn’t explain it but in the moment his heart just… broke…   

That was when it really struck him. Like the other shoe had finally dropped, he realised that he’d assumed she’d be waiting for him… holding out for him to change his mind. In all the scenarios he’d pictured on the plane, he’d never expected this one. He'd never expected her to move on from him so fast… I thought we really had something… 

Tears sprung to his eyes at all the memories they’d made together, the ones she probably didn’t remember and he blinked them away before they could spill out, watching them make their selection, both their smiles twice as wide as theirs had ever been.  

He watched Elizabeth so caught up in conversation with her new man that she tripped over an uneven patch on the sidewalk and at once Drake’s hands reflexively went out to catch her, like he had at Olivia’s ball when she’d faked being sick to get them dinner those many months ago. Instead of his own hands steadying her, Elizabeth landed in the arms of her new guy and Drake could do nothing but watch as she gave him a grin - oh that familiar grin - before planting a kiss on his lips. She kissed him and from across the street Drake felt his own lips tingle, the memory of the sensation flooding back in and he felt himself being violently ripped apart. He could practically feel the softness of her lips, that tiny scar she had near her mouth, the feel of her skin against his, it all came back to him now... 

'I am still in love with you,’ he tried to say, but when his tongue refused to cooperate, Drake compelled her with the sheer force of his willpower to look at him, to see him, anything but to move on and walk out of his life, again. Almost as if she’d heard him, Elizabeth tossed her head back and she seemed to glance in his direction. His heart skipped a beat until she turned back, maybe it was more of her eyes sliding in his general direction than an actual look but at least it was something right? Before he could muster up the confidence to do anything, her companion said something and immediately her attention snapped back to him.

Drake made to go after her, body poised to run after him as so many feelings rushed through his being. Love anger, jealousy, longing, pain, it was all there only to be surpassed by the memory of her smile when she looked at her new guy. She looked happier, so happy. If he went after her now it would have been out of pure selfishness. How could he do that? All he’d bring her was heartache and pain...  

As much as it hurt him, Drake couldn’t bring himself to destroy the new life she was building for herself. Elizabeth deserved a shot at choosing who she was going to love, even if it wasn’t him. His heart stung at the thought but he knew it was true. If he couldn’t love her the way he wanted, he’d have to let her go... 

-

Savannah’s smile faded a little when she saw met him alone at the arrival gate. 

'Either Elizabeth’s hiding in that tiny backpack of yours or she said no..?’ she asked, attempting for some humour. 

‘Mmhmm,’ he grunted, unable elaborate further. ‘Something like that.' 

She wrapped an arm around him. 'You gave it your best shot. And for that I’m proud of you.’ 

Drake nodded despondently, guilt eating him up inside. Had he given it his best shot though? 

-

Life went on, bearing stark similarity to before the social season and all the craziness that ensued from it but it was still different. Something had changed and everyone felt it. There was no excitement, with no big event or royal wedding to look forward to Cordonia fell into a state of lethargy and it seemed to be Drake who felt it most keenly. Resuming life as normal was harder than he expected - after all Elizabeth had done it so why couldn’t he? 

He barely remembered what that had been life, for she’d been such a vivid presence in his existence that everything before seemed to blur. His friendship with Liam was still on tenterhooks but he’d taken a job in the royal security team, something that allowed him to work out of the way of the public eye. It meant he had to spend all day with stuffy nobles and pompous personalities but at least it was familiar, it fooled his mind into thinking he could do it. 

He could be normal and okay about this... 

Drake kept himself busy, filling his days with as many tasks as possible because if he allowed himself to rest for just a moment, she’d be back on his mind again. He’d still wake up in a cold sweat after dreams of the two of them together. When would she stop haunting him? he wondered. 

Some days, it seemed like everywhere he looked he saw Elizabeth. He could feel her touch in the breeze that caressed his skin. Her laugh in the swell of music in the ballrooms he patrolled, the swish of her hair as he remembered twirling her on the dance floor. Even the flowers in the garden held her smell, reminding him of the strong sweet scent of her shampoo after wash day. 

 He was a creature of habit, Drake had long known that about himself and day by day as he actively tried to keep thoughts of Elizabeth out of him mind, he sensed his walls going back up. He limited himself solely to work and the gym when things got too much to bear, taking out his sorrows on the rotating surface of the treadmill. In this, he isolating him from his friends, even Savannah noticed, he hardly came to visit her now. He was at the palace daily but hardly caught sight of his best friend. He didn’t know how long he’d seen Maxwell for, they hadn’t spoken since the hospital, that was months ago now. 

In fact if Drake hadn’t accidentally bumped into him in a corridor on afternoon, it would have been even longer. 

‘Ohff.’ 

A reflexive gasp escaped him as Maxwell’s shoulder made contact with his chest, sending the other man’s phone flying across the space. As Drake bent to pick up the device, his eyes slid over the unlocked screen to what was displayed there.

Drake couldn’t stop a gasp from escaping him. 

Elizabeth. 

 The sight of her was enough to knock the wind out of him. In a second all the progress he’d made over the last couple of weeks to forget her, to drown out any lingering trace of her was gone and the pain flooded in, visceral and merciless. He didn’t know how it was possible for his heart to break and rise at the same time. She looked positively radiant, in her friend's arms a huge grin on her face. He rejoiced that she was looking so well but at the same time a seed of resentment found root inside him. She made it look so easy, so simple as if moving on from him was merely a matter of turning a page while he was stuck between the volumes of words he’d never get to say to her. Elizabeth was off living her life while he was here is a sort of limbo, waiting for something he knew was never going to happen. That shook him out of his reflection, as Drake ealising he’d been holding the phone for too long, he ripped his gaze away from it and handed it back to Maxwell. 

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, unable to look his friend in the eyes. 

 ’S’alright,’ Maxwell replied in kind and for a moment both of them stood awkwardly in the corridor, mutually avoiding each other’s eyes until Maxwell drew a hesitant breath. ‘Drake... I’m uh... sorry for what I said at the hospital.' 

'Me too.’ Drake admitted, surprised to find that he really meant it. ‘I shouldn’t have let it go that far.’ 

‘We were both just stressed, I guess,’ he responded, poignantly. 

 Drake nodded. ‘Yeah...' 

‘See you around?’ Maxwell’s tone was hopeful but Drake couldn’t bring himself to share the sentiment.   

‘Maybe..’ he replied vaguely and not knowing what to do, clapped Maxwell awkwardly on the shoulder before striding off.

-

These walls were suffocating him. He needed to get out of here and just think, he needed space and time to think. To compose himself before he did something stupid. 

‘I’m taking the rest of the day off,’ he told Bastien who initially gave him a quizzical look before understanding replaced it. 

He nodded in approval. ‘I heard Liam remark that Flame is due for a run soon.’ 

Drake caught his meaning and made his way down to the stables where the chestnut stallion pawed impatiently at his stall. 

‘Hey boy,’ he murmured, rubbing his nose affectionately for a moment before reaching for the saddle and bridle. As he prepared the horse for the ride his thoughts turned to his father as they always did in the stables, remembering with astounding clarity the first time Jackson had taught him how to saddle a horse. He allowed a fond smile at the memory before his thoughts turned inward like the always did: Would his father be proud of him if he saw him now? Not for the first time, Drake found himself unable to come up with an answer and mounting up, he began to guide Flame out of the stable. 

He rode as far as the coast line, guiding Flame down to the beach where they began to canter across the sand. Drake took a deep breath in, smelling the salty tang of the ocean as the winds whipped through his hair. Out here with nothing but the wide open space, the wind in his hair Drake felt most himself. Every emotion was laid bare on the empty stretch of the beach and taking advantage of this he urged Flame on faster into a gallop. Only when they were flying across the sand at breakneck pace, did he truly allowed himself to grieve. For the first time since he’d arrived back in Cordonia, he allowed himself to feel. 

The anger, hurt, jealousy, resentment. 

Drake couldn’t bring himself to hate her… no he’d never be able to do that but he couldn’t help but resent that it seemed almost too easy that Elizabeth moved on almost as if nothing had happened while he was left to pick up the pieces..  It was like fate was laughing at him, placing him on one side of a double sided coin and no matter how many times he flipped it, he’d always end up with the same result.. Him hurting while she got to move on.

Flame’s hooves pounded in the sand seeming to synchronise with his own heart beat and as beads of sweat formed on the horse’s hide, Drake slowed them to a canter almost feeling guilty for how hard he’d pushed him. He couldn’t just forget everything and brush it off, not when he’d given Elizabeth his all. She isn’t coming back, his head told him while his heart sobbed, she has to. If there ever was a glimmer oh hope left in him, it was rapidly disappearing. He couldn’t keep pretending like this… He had to move on. As hard as it seemed, in his heart he knew he had to do it. But where would he even begin? 

The hands of fate must have been working particularly effectively that day because almost as if on cue, Drake’s question was answered as a fearful yelp ripped through his thoughts. A strange shape hurtled towards Flame's cantering hooves and at the last second, Drake tugged hard on the reins willing the stallion to a startling halt. Their momentum carried them forward still and Flame unaccustomed to the sudden change reared up suddenly at the figure in his path with he was barely able to keep his seat. Another yelp of terror reached his ears and immediately Drake sprung into action, leaping off the horse as soon as its hooves touched the ground again, rushing to the figure, a woman, lying on the ground. 

‘Lady what the hell were you thinking running up to a horse like that?’ He yelled, grabbing the woman by her shoulders. 

‘I-I don’t know okay,’ she yelled at him from under a broad brimmed hat and lopsided sunglasses. ‘I just wanted to get to the water and you appeared out of no where and I just fro- Drake?’ 

Drake was stunned. How did this stranger know his name? He narrowed his eyes at her, taking in her appearance that began to seem slightly more familiar the longer he looked. Seeing his confusion, the woman slipped off her hat and sunglasses and he heard himself gasp as recognition set in. 

 Drake's eyes widened. 'Zoe?’ 

His college ex-girlfriend peered up at him, wearing that same half smile she’d always given him. 

‘Hey Drake..'

-

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[orderofdeathrp-blog]

Faceclaim: Ken Watanabe || Age: 55 years old || Pronouns: He/his/him

Ministry of Magic

Cisgender Male

Half-blood

Former Ravenclaw

Minister of Magic

Non-Playable Character

Possible triggering content of death, racism, war and xenophobia

It was rare indeed that fate, or maybe it was just sheer blind luck, lined up as they had for Harold Minchum. Although Harold hated to admit that there was anything beyond his control. But, of course, Harold did not have control over the fact that he was born not in Kobe, Japan but in Cardiff, Wales. He had no control of the fact that his mother had been ordered to spend two years observing how magic was taught at Hogwarts, or that his father, on a trip back to Mahoutokoro, would simply vanish into thin air, just like the Muggle leftists. Harold had no control over the fact that he would never hear from his father again. He had no control over his mother remarrying a Welshman a few years later and changing his surname from Akiyama to Minchum despite the fact that he told her that wasn’t what he wanted. He had no control over where he grew up, especially when it was clear that the home he’d only heard of but had never been to became a distant memory to which he would never return.

But once Harold was old enough to understand control, he craved it. At first, he was small and young compared to his peers and he could only control himself. He could force himself to rise with the sun and starch his shirts until they shone white as snow. He could force himself to bite his lip and not snap back when the older students at Hogwarts turned a blind eye to the whispers and mockery he was forced to endure. He could not control the others, not yet, but he could control himself and study hard until they saw him as their equal, or at least so he believed.

Whilst his peers were cruel and distant, his professors and the other adult at Hogwarts were not. They knew that Harold was cleverer than most of his housemates. His spells were perfectly pronounced without any hint of accent, his wand movements crisp, clear and exact. His potions the ideal consistency and color, perfectly brewed every time. The professors knew he was disciplined and obedient, a role model that the other Hogwarts students should look up to, and that made his peers loathe him even more. How dare the foreigner, the kiss-ass, do better than them in classes, win accolade after accolade, get first a prefect’s and then a head boy’s badge pinned to his robes? It simply was not fair, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike whispered. Harold heard their whispers, and they only made him laugh. They were jealous of him, simply because none of them had the foresight to control themselves and work hard.

It was rare enough to get asked to work for Wizengamot as a measly seventh-year, but to start off as the Chief Warlock’s clerk was practically unheard of. Harold was more than pleased to say yes to the offer, and discovered that the job was more than taking notes and running errands. More often than not, the old man could barely remember if he’d had his tea, let alone what wizarding law was, and Harold found himself stepping in to cover for his boss. First, it was just going to hearings with quiet excuses that the Chief Warlock felt ill or had other matters to attend to, but soon enough it was writing decisions and passing rulings on his own, with the Chief warlock’s enchanted quill cheerfully signing off on them.

Harold had to play nice, had to network and socialize with the very people who had mocked up as a child, and it killed him inside. Too proud to bite his lip and forgive previous trespasses, Harold ignored his peers and went to their supervisors, inviting himself to banquets and gatherings. He was charming, smarter than his years, and willing to crush out any competition in the way. Soon enough, Harold learned a soft word, whispered into an ear at a banquet, went further than just competency and hard work. No, to make his mark in the wixen world, he had to position himself, flit from minister to minister, tell them what they wanted to hear and make empty promises that would never come true. And Harold hated it.

But when the Chief Warlock finally stepped down, brain so addled that he could barely form words, Harold lost all of his power. It was a setback, but one that he had expected, and Harold was ready. There were other members of the Wizengamot that Harold had charmed, and they were willing to put in a good word for him, to give him the next seat that opened up. And just like that, at the age of 26, Harold Minchum, the sad little outsider who would never fit into British wixen culture, was on its highest court.

There were the skeptics of course, who thought that Harold was far too young for such a prestigious role, who had doubted that the old Chief Warlock had truly written some of his rulings. Suddenly, it was like Hogwarts all over again, dirty glares and barbed rumors, only this time, Harold did not have professors and headmasters to impress, nor the excuse of youth to defend the tears he had cried silently in his dormitory bed. There was nobody who Harold could beg for attention and for praise, and he hated it. For the past ten years, Harold had worked to throw that past behind him, to remake himself as confident and competent, totally in control of his reputation, and yet it was all for naught.

A foolish man would have used his power to banish those who doubted him, but Harold knew that there were those, even his old headmaster, who would use that as a pretense to strip him of his power. So, instead, Harold bit his lip and waited in silence, careful not to shine out on the Wizengamot. He rarely broke with precedent or brought attention to his rulings. Only the most clever of legal minds would notice how, with each decision he made, he positioned himself as a supporter of law and order, with little patience for those who did not toe the line or slipped up. Second chances were simply not on the table, for nobody had ever given him a second chance as a child or as a young employee. Order had dominated his life, and Harold vowed that order would bring control back to wixen Britain.

Unfortunately, a Muggle-born Minister of Magic would not maintain order, not in the way that Harold needed. He had nothing against Nobby Leach; they were both outsiders, and if anything, Harold was almost sympathetic to the other wizard’s plight. But his very existence meant riots, soft threats of old wixen families moving to Germany or France, and the hard threat of full mutiny. And that simply would not do.

It had been easy enough to twist Leach around his finger, to talk him into expanding the penalties that could land someone in Azkaban, and to increase the number of shadowy guards that kept it safe. It was not a Dementor breeding program, Harold insisted, but rather a simple scheme to keep the public safe. After all, safety and stability would be the only way to keep the blood elitists from throwing Leach out of office, or so he promised. It was, of course, a lie. There was only so much the Wizengamot could do to maintain control through legal crackdowns and increased punishment. Eventually, Leach would be thrown out of power, and Harold would do everything in his power that the ensuing transition would be peaceful. It was just another step in his master plan.

He did not know that there were those who would take any measure necessarily to exterminate any who they did not deem as pure, not at first. But when Leach died of a mysterious illness that not even the best healers at St. Mungo’s could figure out, Harold realized there was something, or someone, beyond the control of the Ministry. His place in the world was in danger, and that could not stand.

Although he despised her as a practical hippie who would only make things worse, Harold backed Eugenia Jenkins as the next Minister of Magic. He paid lip service to her, repeating her dull slogans about unity and respect at Leach’s funeral, and offered her his services in whatever way he could. She needed a loyal deputy, he said, voice calm and crisp, hiding his true intentions, and he would be happy to serve in her shadows, to aid her in whatever way he could. After all, keeping the wixen world unified was the most important. Eugenia was no fool, and Harold was sure she knew that what he really meant was unity through consolidated power and violence when needed. Even if she did not agree, it was mutually beneficial for her, for her safety, for her life, to have a right-hand man who would crack down during the Squib Rights marches and pure-blood riots.

With the death of Eugenia Jenkins, the world of the wix began to mourn. But Harold didn’t waste a moment. He began to move assets and resources around as if they were pieces in a game of chess. His control was now absolute. He would win the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He would bring about peace and control within the British world of magic. And then, he would have the control he so longed for.

Connections

Albus Dumbledore, Barty Crouch Senior

Wand

11” inches, cherry wood, dragon heartstring core

Patronus

Horse

Boggart

His body consumed by flames  

Amortentia

Tobacco ash and cashmere wool