#But by all means if you’re insistent on marching forward on your Holy War against what you imagine right wingers want

[convoy914]

All you’re doing is proving my point, people. You’re better than this, and I mean that sincerely. Take a step back and recognize the middle ground. For your sake. Because I learned what this is the hard way. I’ve SEEN where that mentality leads to

[thecarrieonokay]

Fluff and Angst Prompt #2

Happy Monday! Shall we start the week with some fluff and/or angst?

@hellishrose this one’s for you, dude! From THIS list.

Warnings for a bit of colourful language and (pretty much goes without saying) they’re pissed as farts. (Drink responsibly, guys. Or don’t. But don’t blame me!)

Riley smelled them before she saw them. The unmistakable scent of tequila was wafting towards her in waves.

She turned to see Bozer and Mac stumbling through the war room door, Desi behind them with a firm grip on both of their collars. 

“Found them,” she said just before releasing them.

Bozer stumbled forwards but managed to style it out with a little swagger before landing hard on one of the stools. Mac just hit the edge of the table with an ‘umf’, rested both of his palms on the surface and bowed his head. He shook it like there was a gnat in his ear. 

Desi rolled her eyes in Riley’s direction before spinning on her heel. “I’ll make a vat of coffee,” she called back over her shoulder as she marched in the direction of the break room.

The boys stank. Seriously. The sickly sweet smell hit the back of Riley’s throat and triggered a string of unwelcome memories. Ever since that unfortunate event in July, tequila had pretty much become Riley’s least favourite thing. She shuddered. The consequences had lasted a solid week. 

“Boze?” She clicked her fingers to get his attention. “Hey! Bro!” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” 

“M’ not dat drunk!” he slurred. “Immonna go get some coffee though. ‘Scuse me.” He launched to his feet and stumbled past her. 

Riley chuckled and shook her head as he swaggered in the same direction as Desi. “Matty is going to murder you!” she called after him. 

All she heard was a dismissive “yeah, yeah,” as he zigzagged down the hall. Riley chuckled to herself. There was no way they could sober him up in time for the briefing. There wasn’t enough coffee in the world if he was drunk enough to not take the threat of Matty seriously. 

When she turned to Mac, he was staring at her, a grim look on his face. Riley raised her eyebrows at him. “Mac? You okay?”

“We went for drinks.” 

“I can see that,” she smirked. 

“Bozer was sad.”

Riley’s smile faltered. “Bozer was sad?”

“Yeah,” Mac nodded. “I’m sad too. Not as sad as Boze, of course. But,” he sighed, “I’m sad too.”

Riley closed her eyes as Leanna’s smile flashed across her vision. A wave of pain followed in its wake. Leanna’s death was weighing on them all. But since that day, Riley could actually see Bozer physically carrying the burden of it with him. His feet seemed heavier and his shoulders inched towards his chest, as if there was a literal hole where his heart had been. 

In all the chaos of the last few months, there hadn’t been a beat to process the enormity of the loss. Matty was definitely keeping them on a hectic schedule on purpose. But Riley knew that distraction would only work for so long. Feelings that stayed buried tended to either fester until they were rotten or boil over at the worst possible moment. 

At this point, Riley was somewhat of an expert on the subject.

The object of her suppressed desire was frowning when she opened her eyes. “I don’t wanna have any regrets, Riles,” he said.

Riley puckered her brow. Mac’s drunk talk usually involved props or a slide-show of some kind. Typically, his Macspaining went into overdrive until his brain appeared to short-circuit and he passed out somewhere really uncomfortable (like the coffee table or a flight of stairs). This sombre tone was new. “What do you mean?” she asked, concerned. 

Mac sighed and stood mostly upright. He skirted around the table, using it for support as he worked his way towards her. “Bozer could have had more time with her,” he murmured and shook his head. “He regrets so much. I don’t wanna feel that way.”

He stumbled over his own feet and Riley leapt forward to grab his forearms before he hit his face on the edge of the table. His usual pine and petrol scent was so obscured by booze that she scrunched her nose. She ignored the rolling in her stomach and focused on trying to get Mac to plant his ass on the nearest stool.

“Tequila, Mac?” she asked as she guided him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the seat. He gripped both of her arms as he lowered himself onto it. He didn’t let go. “Why tequila? Have you forgotten what happened in July?”

He raised his head and narrowed his eyes. “Actually, it’s a bit of a blur to be honest.” His eyes brightened as he said, “Y’know what happens to the brain when alcohol triggers memory loss?” He gave her arms a little squeeze. 

That was more like it. Riley rolled her eyes. “I bet you’re gonna tell me.” 

He smirked. “Only if you want me to.” Then he leaned in and whispered a little too loudly, “I could tell you a lot of things.”

His breath may have smelled like booze, but it was also warm as it tickled Riley’s face. 

“You do tell me a lot of things, Mac. You never stop telling me things. It’s kind of your thing.” And she loved him for it. Not that he knew that, of course. 

He smirked. His voice dropped an octave as he said, “I could tell you other things. Things I know I’ve never told you before.”

Mac’s husky tone sent a shiver surging down Riley’s spine. Her heart involuntarily stuttered. He was drunk. He was… impaired. He was definitely not suggesting what she thought he was suggesting. 

For one thing, he and Desi had only just split. And it hadn’t been pretty.

Against her better judgement, Riley asked, “Oh yeah, like what?” as casually as she could manage. She ignored the alarm bells ringing in her head.

He trailed his long fingers down her arms and tickled her palms as he narrowed his eyes at the rings adorning her hands. “Like how you have the most beautiful skin.” He sighed. “I just want to touch your skin all the time, Riles.”

A heavy stone settled in the pit of Riley’s stomach as his nimble fingers wrapped around hers and held on tight. 

“Like how much I care about you,” his brow lifted and his eyes shone as they pierced her. “I’ve never told you how much you mean to me before. I’d die if anything ever happened to-” 

“Mac, stop.” Riley reacted on pure instinct when she ripped a hand from his grip and placed it firmly over his mouth. She couldn’t let him go on. Each word was like a dagger to her chest. “Please stop,” she whispered.

He was drunk. He was impaired.

She stood looking down at him with his knees brushing her thighs and her hand over his mouth. Mac’s eyes grew darker and darker. Inebriated though he was, his gaze was steady. She felt herself being drawn closer, unable to break her stare as he looked into her. The stone in her stomach turned to water. She felt unsteady on her feet as waves crashed against her insides. 

At least ten beats pounded in her chest as she stood caught in the steady beam of his gaze. It felt like an eternity. 

Still unblinking, Mac reached up, peeled her hand away from his face and placed it carefully over his heart.

Riley held her breath. What he said next shattered her, just not in the way she expected. 

“Riles. I don’t want to be sad,” he said.

Riley didn’t want him to be sad, either. His sadness was like a mirror. She could see her own pain reflected in his open and earnest expression. And it scared the shit out of her. 

Because if there was one thing Riley’s life experiences had taught her, it was that people always said things they didn’t mean when they were desperate or scared. Or sad. 

Emotion could be just as intoxicating as tequila. And just as destructive.

She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath through her mouth. The warmth of his skin was seeping through his shirt into the pads of her fingers. Though the urge to cradle his head to her chest was overwhelming, Riley fought against the crushing grief. She allowed herself to feel the thrum of only three more of his heartbeats before slipping her hand out from under his and taking a full step back. 

Riley opened her eyes. 

“Mac,” she sighed. “Your tolerance for alcohol sucks about as much as your skeeball game.” 

He stuttered something incoherent, like he was about to argue, when Bozer burst into the room shouting. “Ah HA!” 

Then Bozer froze, apparently distracted by his shoe. 

“Boze?” Riley asked. 

“Yeah?” He looked up at her and squinted. “I mean, yeah!” he shouted. “I caught you!” 

Riley lifted her eyebrows and waited for him to explain himself.

“I mean…” he looked between Mac and Riley like they were opponents in a tennis match. Riley was still confused. So was Mac, if his foggy expression was any indication. “Goddamn it!” Bozer exclaimed. He settled a furious gaze on his oldest friend. “Didn’t you kiss her yet?!”

Riley choked on air. She looked sideways at Mac to gauge his reaction to Bozer’s alcohol-induced hallucinations. His jaw was locked, his eyes were like saucers and his cheeks were as red as the fire extinguisher he kept on his desk. (After the last ‘incident’, Russ had insisted it stay there permanently.)

What in the holy hell was happening?! 

Bozer just waddled forwards and deposited himself onto the nearest stool with a dramatic sigh. “I knew you would chicken out. I just knew it,” he mumbled. “All that big talk about how you were finally gonna-”

Riley didn’t get a chance to hear exactly what ‘he was finally gonna’ because Mac launched himself off of his seat in Bozer’s direction and knocked him to the ground. They both landed in a heap in front of the door and began smacking each other like five year olds.

And that was the moment Matty chose to enter the room. 

“What part of ‘I might need you guys for an op tonight’ did you not understand?!” she boomed. Mac and Bozer both groaned as they craned around to look up into her furious face. 

Oh, this was going to be SO much worse than July.

Desi appeared in the hallway and froze like a rabbit in a snare when she saw who was standing in the doorway. There were two mugs dangling from one of her hands and a huge steaming coffee pot in the other. She mouthed “fuck” at Riley through the window. 

“Wait,” Matty’s expression turned murderous as she hollered, “IS THAT TEQUILA I SMELL?!”

Bozer frantically untangled his legs from Mac’s and stumbled to his feet. “Matty, I swear,” he pleaded. “This time we totally did NOT tipi your house.”

“No,” Mac chuckled from the floor. He proudly lifted his chin and declared: “We egged Taylor’s car instead.”

[justallamaimaginingthings]

Angel {Klaus Hargreeves x Reader}

A/n: I SWEAR this started with the pure intention of fluffiness. My hand slipped, I guess *wink*. Btw, even though this is the original version, I’d be more than happy to change it up a little so it can become gender neutral or about a male reader if anyone’s interested, so don’t hesitate to message me about it. Enjoy 💘💘

Warnings: Slight smut 

Words: 1990ish  II  TUA Masterlist

Walking down the street, Y/n couldn’t help leaning closer to Klaus so that their shoulders were touching as he placed and arm around her waist, enjoying the feeling of finally having her by his side. After a whole year without any sign of her or anyone else, he had almost given up all hope of ever seeing her again, unaware that for the first time life was on his side. And here they were, walking together back to the place Klaus had come to call home.

"So is your cult going to be there?" She asked teasingly making him roll his eyes at her.

"For the last time, it's not that much of a cult really, more of a spiritual community" He defended himself but still he was unable to hold back a chuckle upon seeing the incredulous look she was giving him.

"Allison said it's a cult and I believe her" She insisted

"You'd take Allison's word over mine? I'm hurt, love" He replied, making an exaggerated motion of placing a hand over his heart like he was in physical pain. If there was one word she could use to describe Klaus that was extra. However, she had come to love his quirky, overly dramatic reactions just as much as she loved him and she simply adored teasing him. No matter how much he pretended to be annoyed, Klaus wouldn’t change their little fake fights for the world. Every time he made her laugh he could feel his chest swelling with pride and her smile was all the reward he needed, making his heart skip a bit and his heart flood with affection.

To say she had missed her would be an understatement. There hadn’t been a single day during the last three years that he hadn’t thought about her. Mornings were the worst and everyday he'd find himself instinctively reach for her across the bed only to be met by empty sheets as the weight on his chest returned to crush him. Sometimes he would dream of her, dream of holding her and kissing her senseless or making love to her until dawn before they fell asleep in each other's arms. Those mornings it became even more difficult for him to carry on, sobriety only adding to his struggles, but somehow he managed to pull through and it was worth it.

"What if I find a way to make it up to you later?" She asked in a suggestive tone as she turned around so that she stood right in front of him, right before lacing her hands around his shoulders. Her fingers found his curly locks and gently brushed through them, eliciting a satisfied hum from his lips. He wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her closer as his grip on her tightened, the thought about what was to follow already having an effect on him.

"I'm really offended, I doubt there's any way to get passed that" He played along but the breathlessness of his tone gave him away. She smirked at him right before checking around for other passengers, but luckily the small street was completely empty and the last rays of sunshine left little to no light to reach the alley. She took a step forward causing him to move backwards until he was leaning against the wall and pulling her with him.

The moment her lips made contact with his jaw, he knew he was done for. She started leaving soft kisses that turned more intense as she made her way down the column of his neck, gently nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin. Klaus tried -and failed- to hold back a moan when she gently bit down on his collarbone and she smirked, loving the way his body seemed to respond even to the lightest touch. Leaning back to look at him, her breath caught in her throat. He looked positively wrecked, face flushed, pupils dilated and lips parted in desire.

"I'll think of something" She whispered and he could feel her lips brush against his, sending a shiver down his spine. The loose shirt he was wearing allowed her fingers to roam around his chest while his hands moved from her waist to the small of her back and ended up gripping her hips so tightly it would leave a bruise. He leaned in for another kiss, channeling all his feelings into it and it was her turn to sigh when he licked her bottom lip as if asking for permission which she happily granted. He tangled his hand in her hair as their tongues fought for dominance. Slowly, her hand made its way down to the front of his pants, palming his straining erection.

"Love, if you keep this up we won’t make it back home" He whispered hoarsely wrapping his hand around her wrist. Truth was it would be far from the first time they'd get it on in a public space and both of them clearly enjoyed the thrill of perhaps getting caught, but that time was different. They had gotten back together two days ago, after spending three years apart. Klaus wanted to show her just how much he'd missed her during that time and a quickie in a dark alley was no way to do that, no matter how bad he wanted her. He didn’t have to say another word; she could tell what he was thinking from the look her was giving her.

Instead of replying, she placed a soft kiss on his lips before taking hold of his hand and lacing their fingers together. "Lead the way, then" She told him, an affectionate smile gracing her features and for yet another time Klaus wondered how he had gotten so lucky. He had to put on an effort not to get carried away once again, before he pushed himself off the wall and continued walking. They made their way towards the mansion, exchanging funny stories from the time they spent away from each other and laughing. By the time they reached their destination, the sun had set and night had fallen.

"Welcome home" Klaus declared as they turned down the last corner. Her eyes blew wide in surprise caused by the awe inspiring sight in front of her. The large garden was filled with all types of lanterns and lamps making it look almost magical, while a crowd of people, the cult's members she assumed, was marching around doing this and that. In the centre of the garden laid a huge white building accompanied by what appeared to be an equally huge pool.

"You live here?" She exclaimed turning to look at Klaus who couldn’t hide his amusement at her shocked reaction. "How??"

"Well, you know… Dicks, drugs, debutantes, my holy trinity" He replied casually making her laugh and playfully hit his arm.

"It’s beautiful" She noted in a more serious tone.

"Yeah" He agreed and if she wasn't so preoccupied by her surroundings, she would have noticed him staring at her with an expression of pure admiration. The way the light hit her face made her features pop out and he could easily lose himself in her sparkling eyes. He was about to say something when a group of his followers who were passing right in front of them suddenly stopped having seemingly frozen on their tracks. They looked at her with a shocked expression before falling on their knees and bowing down. It even took Klaus a moment to realize what was happening while the cult members spoke in one voice.

"But what is the use of trying when all you get is pain? When I wanted sunshine, I got rain and then I saw her face. Now I'm a believer without a trace of doubt in my mind" They chanted and she swore she had heard those words before. Realizing they were all looking at her in complete awe and a little bit of fear she turned to him for explanation.

"Klaus, I didn’t expect to say that in my life but why is your cult reciting Smash Mouth at me?" She asked with visible confusion.

"Yeah, well you see…" He tumbled over his words, avoiding looking at her as if he was embarrassed by what was going on "I may have told them you’re an angel send from heaven" He said in one breath, thankful for the fact that the poor lighting helped cover his blushing face.

"They think I'm a what now?" She repeated, thinking she must have heard something wrong, even though with Klaus nothing was too farfetched.

"An angel" He repeated quietly. She didn't have enough time to react to this revelation because a member of the group hesitantly spoke up.

"Prophet does the arrival of heaven's angel mean the apocalypse is prevented?" A bald man around his 30s asked in a small voice, afraid to interrupt the conversation of what he believed were two god blessed celestial beings.

"What?" Both Y/n and Klaus asked at the same time, almost having forgotten they were in the presence of others.

"Will we be brought eternal peace?"

"Is this the end of all wars?"

"Can you give us some advice from heavens?" 

Questions kept flowing and soon the voices all blended together in an incomprehensible noise. Klaus took her hand and started running towards his room in a futile attempt to escape the increasingly large crowd only for it to chase them down the garden. When they reached the door, he shot her a helpless look and she couldn’t help rolling her eyes at him and the mess he had created.

"I'm sure you all have many questions, but the Prophet needs to medicate before he can bring you the enlightenment you seek" She said in the best authoritative voice she could muster, surprised by the fact that by the time she was done talking the crowd had already started to disperse seemingly having listened to her.

Turning around, she followed Klaus into the room, closing the door behind her so that the two of them could actually get some much needed privacy. She was about to ask him how he managed to control all those people, but didn’t even have a chance to talk because by the moment the door was shut close he had pushed her against the wall and captured her lips in a sweet passionate kiss. His thumb softly caressed her cheekbone and she melted under his touch. The way his lips moved against hers, drinking her in as if she's air and he's drowning, was enough to drive her crazy and a whine of complaint escaped her when he pulled away much too soon for her liking.

"Now, now love, I believe some making up was promised" He said in a husky tone that made her heart skip a bit. There were no words to describe how much he had missed her or how deep his affections ran but frankly he didn’t have to talk. He could just show her and show her he did. The two lovers spent the rest of the night under the sheets, making up for the lost time while the room filled with the sound of moans and muffled whispers. The morning found them curled up in each other's arms, exchanging loving words and soft caresses and for the first time in a long while everything was okay.

[pitterpatterpot]

Lion’s Pride: Chapter Sixteen

20.

“This is utterly ridiculous,” Aedion scowls, leaning back against the couch of the most commonly used lounge room.

Gavriel sighs, sitting down opposite Aedion. “We really do need to talk, Aedion. Privacy would suit this kind of conversation better.”

“Shouldn’t we be helping Aelin set up Rowan’s birthday party?”

“I’ve got Fenrys, Vaughan and Lorcan all on damage control,” Gavriel deadpans. “Trust me when I say that after centuries of bullshit they owe me.”

At that Aedion smirks. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. Fenrys told me that you have the most material out of all of them.”

“I do,” Gavriel smiles his usual smile, the older version to Aedion’s. “But we should focus on what happened yesterday.”

“I’d rather really not.” And the shutters close once again.

Pausing, Gavriel considers his next words carefully. “Do you think a few months ago you would have admitted to me scarring you? Would you have done what you did a few days ago?”

Aedion says nothing, even though the answer is a definite ‘no.’

“Please,” Gavriel’s voice turns pleading, “can we just talk about it? Aedion, you honestly thought I was going to hit you out of anger. You need to know that I would never do that.”

“I know,” Aedion’s jaw clenches. “But there’s a difference between knowing and instinct.”

“There is,” Gavriel clasps his hands and leans forward, gaze firm. “But Aedion, I need to make it explicitly clear to you right now that no matter what happens, no matter how angry I may become, I will never use rage as an excuse to harm you. I will never down put you in such a way that I will make up excuses for causing you pain.”

“I know that,” Aedion insists, growling. “You don’t need to state it like I’m some kind of child. I know. What exactly are you planning to get out of this? Disable reflexes that I’ve had for years? This all isn’t exactly something I can control, Gavriel. It’s not like helping me work through a single problem; I have no control over how my body panics.”

Sighing, Gavriel contemplates the problem. Maybe, at the very least, talking about some of his past experiences may help Aedion overcome a few small obstacles. Or Gavriel could gain a general idea of what to look out for, what triggers that need to be watched.

“Would you feel comfortable telling me why you have those kind of reactions?” Gavriel keeps his voice level, watching Aedion’s reactions.

It’s clear by how Aedion rolls his shoulders that it’s an uncomfortable subject. “People weren’t exactly nice to a bastard mix-breed Terrasen prince in the Adarlan war camps.”

Right. Of course they weren’t. What is the best way to approach this? How can they even begin to talk about something that’s so elaborate and tangled in Aedion’s past? Something that’s so stark and obvious that it’s there, leering at them, daring them to work out a way to try to fix the scars it has left?

“I’m better than I was before,” Aedion’s says softly, catching Gavriel’s attention. “I never… I don’t think I would have even let you touch me. Please trust me when I say that just being here is helping.”

Gavriel blows out a breath. “I know. But is there anything I should watch out for? Anything you’ve particularly noticed that makes you panic?”

Aedion pauses, seeming to think for a moment. “How you talked to me? Just, the tone? Fuck, I’m not sure. I guess just anything that could lean towards violence, or phrases or sights that make me flashback.”

“Alright,” Gavriel nods. “We can think more about that later. Right now, everyone probably needs help getting the party ready.”

“Aelin knows that Rowan knows, right?”

“I don’t think that’s going to stop her.”

“Oh, definitely not. I just wanted to be clear about that.”

~~~

“Aedion!” Aelin scowls, marching over to him. “Place this table near the left wing! The left!”

“Yes, my oh-so-darling cousin,” he mutters, hefting the table up with a groaning Kyllian once again. “It’s not like half my army is here helping you set up a birthday party. Gods forbid we actually start planning our transition to Caraverre.”

“Lysandra, control your male,” Aelin rolls her eyes, calling up to the chirping bird in the rafters helping set up the streamers.

Streamers. Silver and green, hanging from the ceiling like a delicate net. It looks better than streamers have any right to be, but that’s the effect Aelin apparently has when it comes to throwing parties.

“I changed my mind,” she narrows her eyes at the layout of the room, crossing her arms. “Move those tables near the centre closer to the sides. We’re going to want plenty of room to dance, but also make sure they’re spaced out.”

Aedion drops the table, Kyllian doing the same and resting against it exhaustedly as Aedion scowls at his cousin. “Don’t you have other people to do this?”

Raising a single brow, Aelin adorns a pretty smile. “Remember that time when I thought you were cheating on Lysandra with a male bartender, only to find out that it was actually her pressing you up against a wall and about to-“

“Men, we’re moving the tables!” Aedion immediately stands and bellows, ignoring the collective groans and complaints. “Move your asses, people! Move!”

Muttering under his breath, Kyllian grips the edge of the table, ready to lift once more. “It’s not as if I don’t know what you like, it’s not that much of a surprise-“

“Help me move this damn table or you’re not coming to Caraverre,” Aedion hisses at him, glancing at the warriors around them.

“You become a lord and you’re already thinking of banishing people,” Kyllian glares as they lift the table. “Lovely.”

“You two keep your lovers spat down,” Aelin snaps, ignoring their indignant chokes and Lysandra’s annoyed tweet. “I need to check on Elide. She had the plans of the cake ready and the bakers have been working on it, so it should be ready for tomorrow night.”

“Are you planning to hide in it or something?”

“Aedion, you are this close to being thrown out of my kingdom.”

“Oh, no, please don’t spare me from moving tables,” Aedion huffs under his breath, Kyllian nodding gravely in agreement.

“Fine line, Aedion. Fine line.”

“This is what I spent centuries training for,” Fenrys scowls as he walks past her, holding a large box of decorations in his arms. “Vaughan! Lorcan! Fly down here and hang up more of these damn decorations!”

They both swoop dangerously close to Fenrys head, each snatching a decoration from the box before flying back up. Gavriel chuckles at everyone’s antics, holding Evangeline up on his shoulders as she fixes the silver ornaments hanging from one window.

“Done!” She says as soon as they’re straightened, and drops off Gavriel’s shoulders into his arms so that he puts her down.

“Be careful doing that,” Gavriel says as he places Evangeline on her feet. “One day I’ll be too old to catch you.”

“I know,” she grins. “That’s why I’m enjoying it now.”

Shaking his head in amusement, Gavriel watches as she skips towards one of the long tables laden with food, Evangeline being perhaps the only person Aelin doesn’t scold for eating treats before the party has started.

Then again, Aelin eats them too, particularly the tarts, so that’d be quite hypocritical.

“Years of service and it’s led to this,” Kyllian sighs, cracking his back after moving another table.

“I hear you, boyo,” Fenrys grumbles in agreement, slouching past him with a second box crammed in his arms.

“Less talking, more walking!”

Aedion sighs as Lysandra lands on his shoulder and nudges his cheek. “Yes, the talk went well. Think you could stop having fun flying in the rafters and come down to help us land creatures decorate?”

She nips at his ear, and it’s more than enough of an answer. Smirking, Aedion fixes a pot of flowers, Lysandra seemingly fine with staying perched on his shoulder and watching him work. It is nice, however, to have a good conversation with her as he does so.

“Can you really understand what she’s saying?” Fenrys asks, brows raised.

Aedion shrugs the shoulder Lysandra isn’t occupying. “It’s Lysandra.”

It earns him a cuddle against his neck, and he smiles at the way her feathers puff up proudly.After another few minutes she springs off his shoulder, flying back up to help Vaughan and Lorcan. It’s amusing, to watch the way the sparrow orders the great birds of prey.

“Aedion! Move the damn tables!”

The move to Caraverre can’t come fast enough if it means avoiding more gods-damned parties.

~~~

“What was it Aelin said you had?” Lysandra smirks as she leans over Aedion, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, mixing with Aedion’s gold locks on the red pillows. “A lovers spat?”

Looking up at her, Aedion does nothing to keep the grin off his face, highly aware of her legs on either side of his hips, both hands holding his wrists by his head. “It may have been. Who am I to say; it was a busy day.”

“I thought we agreed no more rhyming.”

“And I thought we agreed we’d run away for the birthday preparations, yet here we are.”

Chuckling, Lysandra leans down, brushing her lips against Aedion’s. He barely resists arching up into the touch, simply allowing Lysandra to take over and keep his hands pinned down, more than willing to let her be the one to take control. Gods know that she understands what to do when she does, leaving Aedion feeling as though he’s melted into the bed, all the stress and strain of being a leader melting away.

Only for the bedroom door to slam open, and two giant fae males surge through, only to freeze at the scene of the two people on the bed.

“Holy shit this was a bad time-“

“Gods!” Aedion barks, head jerking up.

Lysandra snaps her head up to look at it as well, green eyes wide, seemingly stuck in place from shock. Fenrys and Vaughan look everywhere in the room but the two of them, a red hue entering everyone’s faces.

“What,” Aedion can’t keep the strain of anger from his voice, glad that Lysandra has his hands pinned or he’d be ripping out throats, “are you doing?’

Both the fae males hesitate, slowly inching back out of the door. They glance at each other and glare, having a silent battle as to who should speak. It looks as though Vaughan loses that battle when he sags.

“Aelin wanted to know why you put the tables-“

“Get out!” Aedion barks, and the two males flee. “Close the damn door!” The door shuts. “Leave you bastards!” They can hear them scrambling down the hallway.

Collapsing back against the pillows, Aedion closes his eyes and releases a long breath. Lysandra mutters about tables, loosening her grip on his wrists and sitting up properly momentarily.

“Are you alright?” Lysandra places a hand solidly on his chest. “Want to continue?”

“I can honestly say that this is the only thing that’s brought me even the smallest speck of pleasure all day,” Aedion places his hands on her waist.

“Good,” a gleam enters Lysandra’s eyes, and she leans forward. “Because I feel the same. I need to prove after Aelin’s little ‘lovers’ comment who you really belong to.”

“Of course, darling,” Aedion kisses her palm, a wicked smirk overtaking his own face.

~~~

“Aedion,” Fenrys says as a gruff greeting, not looking the prince in the eyes.

“Fenrys,” Aedion walks right past him, organising the chairs.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Vaughan mutters to Gavriel before ducking away, unable to look his brother-in-arms in the eye.

Gavriel blinks at them and the way they both turn away guiltily. “I really don’t understand. What happened?”

“You’re too good of a male to know.”

“Enough chatting!” Aelin huffs, stalking through the room. “We have two days to sort this out and I can’t keep Rowan locked in meetings forever!”

Aedion drops a box and throws his hands in the air. “Do you seriously think he doesn’t know about the part happening in the ballroom he walks past every single fucking day?”

“You think I’m above telling Gavriel all the bar stories you told me?” Aelin snaps back, stalking towards Aedion.

The Lion turns to his son and raises his brows in question, causing Aedion to sigh in defeat and pick up the box. Aelin stomps away, and as soon as she’s two meters away Lysandra releases a screech, her wings flapping, and Aedion turns, fully expecting to see her above his head.

Only for a glass window to shatter, an arrow spearing through the box in Aedion’s arms, aiming straight for his heart had he not turned.

Dropping the box once again, Aedion leaps over a table, turning it onto its side and bracing behind it. Everyone else in the room has followed suit, either dropping immediately to the floor or taking up residence behind a form of furniture. Lorcan and Elide have both also overturned a table of their own, Lorcan blocking Elide’s body with his own, even as she holds up a cake knife. Thank the gods other royal guests only arrive tomorrow, or the panic would be uncontrollable.

Both Lysandra and Aedion release a breath of relief when they spot Gavriel on the other side of the room, under a table and completely covering Evangeline’s body with his own, keeping her pressed against the floor as his eyes anxiously search for Aedion. They soften in relief once they land on him, then turn alight as he swivels his head to stare out the window.

It doesn’t help that shouts are being heard on the other side of the room’s doors, the large wooden structures blowing open with the aid of arctic wind.

“What the hell?” Rowan roars, stalking into the room.

“Dammit,” Aelin mutters, just a glass ornament drops from the wall behind her and shatters.

~~~

“Aelin, you knew I knew,” Rowan scowls. “Why are you so upset about the party?”

“It’s the principle of the matter!” Aelin scowls, crossing her arms. “I didn’t know someone was going to try to assassinate Aedion. It ruins the plans.”

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience,” Aedion glares from where he sits at the long table in the meeting room.

“Who would do something like this?” Lysandra peers at the arrow in the centre of the table. “Actually, don’t answer that, there’s too many possibilities. The healers detected some kind of poison on the end, toxic to particularly demi-fae, so they must have been targeting Aedion.”

“Smith-berry juice on a wooden ash arrow,” Gavriel murmurs, inspecting the arrow. “Fae have a particular weakness to the ash wood for some unknown reason, it slows our healing process, and smith-berries are deadly to humans. It would have been enough to kill you before we managed to get you an antidote or for your healing factor repaired itself.”

“We have guards covering all perimeters,” Fenrys states, his own arms crossed, eyes dark. “Lorcan and Vaughan are watching the skies.”

“We should send everyone messages,” Rowan decides. “Tell them not to come. Whoever this is may be planning an assassination since so many political figures will be in the same place at once.”

“No,” Gavriel swallows, pale faced, as he rubs his thumb over the arrow. “They aren’t here for that.”

“What do you mean?” Aelin leans forward, eyes ablaze.

Holding up the arrow, Gavriel shows the engraving of an arch with three circles held inside of it. “This is the crest of one of my old enemies. I doubt that they’re here for anything else other than revenge.”

“Damn it,” Fenrys narrows his eyes to the engraving. “I thought we were past all of this.”

“Who?” Aelin snaps, everyone leaning forward. “What enemy?”

“An old fae that I tangled with about twenty years ago,” Gavriel sags back in his seat. “We have an… unpleasant history.”

Fenrys snorts, and Rowan glares.

“Fine, more than unpleasant,” Gavriel concedes, sighing as he places back down the arrow. “She’s out for my blood, or at the very least to make me suffer.”

“She?” Lysandra repeats.

“Silvia Casant,” Gavriel winces as he says the name. “The once-was lady of a very rich land. She still has her followers and influence.”

“What did she do to you?” Aedion asks, brows furrowed in concern.

Fenrys barks a laugh. “Oh, boyo, it's not what she did to Gavriel, but rather-“

“Thank you, Fenrys,” Gavriel snaps. “It’s not important; what matters is that she’s clearly targeting Aedion as an attempt to claim revenge.”

“There is no greater suffering than a fae losing a child,” Vaughan nods, eyes darkening. “Our offspring are rare and greatly treasured; not to mention that you are Gavriel’s only heir. To kill you would also a major offence in fae terms, as well as being emotionally crippling.”

“Well,” Aedion mutters, “that’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“Right,” Aelin rubs at her eyes. “You all know her. What precautions should be take? It’s too late to tell people not to come now, they’re already travelling and the messages will never get to them in time.”

“Double security,” Rowan says decisively. “We keep a strict guest list, and make sure that every person of even the smallest status is under surveillance. We keep Vaughan and Lorcan on watch in the skies in case she’s accompanied by fae. Elide, when if Manon arriving with Dorian?”

She straightens in her chair, dark eyes gleaming as she taps her fingernails against the table. “Tomorrow, along with Dorian, Chaol and Yrene and their child. If this woman is after Aedion to get to Gavriel, then why not give her what she wants?”

“We are not placing Aedion up on a pedestal to be snatched,” Gavriel immediately places an arm out in front of his son which Aedion looks down at lazily, obviously not concerned about the situation.

It’s honestly not the first time someone’s tried to assassinate him. He’ll have to talk to Gavriel about not being so stressed every time it happens.

“Not Aedion,” Elide settles her keen eyes on Gavriel. “You.”

Silence rings out.

“What?” Fenrys frowns.

“The only reason she’s going after Aedion is because she believes he’s an opening to hurt Gavriel,” Elide points to the fae in question, “but what if she didn’t need Aedion to get to him? What if, during the middle of a party, Gavriel stepped out to the balcony for a breath of fresh air after a drink, making him the perfect target?”

“And then?” Aelin leans forward in interest, linking her hands.

“Lorcan, Rowan and Vaughan will be watching in the air,” Elide waves a hand above her head. “No one will question the king's absence if he steps out of the room with his queen halfway through the party, both laughing and close. While that occurs Lysandra and Aedion can continue dancing inside with Fenrys and I to draw away attention to what we’re planning. We can inform everyone else of the plan as soon as they arrive, and ask that they continue to dance with us as well to mask the disappearance of a few of us.”

“That could work,” Vaughan mutters, examining the arrow. “It’s most likely that Silvia is on her own since this is such a personal grudge.”

Aedion scowls at his father. “What the hell did you do to her?”

“Nothing-“

“He left her at the altar,” Fenrys picks at his nails, holding his hand out in front of him to admire them.

“I’m sorry, you what?” Aedion chokes, whirling to look at Gavriel, who flushes a bright red and looks away.

“I am not proud of it!” Gavriel barks, still flushed, bracing a single arm on the table as he looks away from everyone’s stares. “Maeve ordered me to marry her, to help connect social ties, but she later decided that she didn’t want me to right in the middle of the wedding so…”

“So as soon as I told him he ran out of the church,” Vaughan muttered. “I’ve never seen a male haul ass that fast.”

“I never had a choice in the engagement!” Gavriel says in his defence, wincing at everyone’s disbelieving looks. “We got along well but there was never an urge to marry between us! Besides, I had another female on my mind at the time, as many of you are aware.”

“Don’t try to use my mother to get out of this!” Aedion scoffs, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Did you even apologies?”

“Of course I did!“ Gavriel suddenly pales, his hands going slack. “Assuming she received the letter…”

“Seriously, Gavriel-”

“Oh my gods, this is why-“

“Fuck everything at this point-“

“You were supposed to be one of the good ones-“

“I’m sorry!” Gavriel throws his hands up, much like Aedion had done. “I wrote her a long, heartfelt letter! Either she didn’t get it or that wasn’t enough, either way I’m going to apologies to her.”

“I’m sorry?” Aedion sits up straight. “You want to talk and apologies to the psycho who tried to kill your son? Where was this control when we needed it last week!”

Gavriel winces once more. “I’ve wronged her. I need to compensate for my actions.”

“Gods dammit,” Aelin mutters, placing her head back in her hands. “Alright, we go through with Elide’s plan, but we give Gavriel a chance to talk to her before we intervene.”

Everyone nods and murmurs in agreement, standing.

“We’ll stay on alert tonight,” Lysandra squeezes Aedion’s hand under the table. “We all should.”

Agreeing, everyone leaves the room with cautious eyes.

“Leaving a woman at the altar,” Aedion shakes his head, Lysandra smirking and Gavriel sagging.

“Wait until you’re older and I’ll tell you as many stories as you want,” his father sighs. “You’re not ready for this one.”

“I’m twenty-four!”

“Then wait until you’re thirty!”

~~~

Stepping out onto the balcony, Gavriel resists looking behind him, instead breathing in the fresh, crisp air. The moon and stars shine brightly above his head, light pouring out of the glass doors behind him as muffled laughter booms through thanks to the swirling, colourful crowds. People in extravagant, bright clothes mesh together behind him as they dance and mingle.

Everyone laughs and whispers as Aelin links arms with Rowan, the two of then smirking as they slip out through another door.

No one notices that Aelin glances back at the party.

Or that Rowan separates from her as soon as the door closes behind them, jumping out of a window as a hawk.

Instead, all eyes are on Elide, Fenrys, Lysandra and Aedion as they dance in the centre of the room, boisterous and loud as they do so, dressed just as brightly as everyone else as their feet spin on the plotted floor.

And Gavriel hears the string of a bow strain as a cloaked figure steps out from around a pillar.

Shit.

She wasn’t supposed to be hiding on the actual balcony. Gavriel will have to chew out the guards later for this, especially since the tip of an arrow is pointed at his chest.

“So,” Gavriel winces. “How are you?”

~~~

“I’m going out there-“

Lysandra tightens her grip on Aedion’s shoulder, spinning with him. “Let them handle it. If she wanted to she could have killed him ten minutes ago.”

“What are you saying?” Aedion scowls as he picks her up and spins them.

“I’m saying,” Lysandra grins as her feet reach the floor and she twirls, “that I have a feeling Gavriel can handle this.”

~~~

“Is that your son?”

Gavriel nods, keeping his hands raised as Silvia circles him. “He is.”

“He’s the child of the woman you left me on the altar for?”

Gavriel winces. “I didn’t know he existed at the time. he is my pride; if you are here for revenge all I can ask is that you spare him. He’s too young and has seen too much for his life to end now.”

Silvia stares at him, her stark white hair hanging over her shoulders, her purple hood hiding her pointed ears as her light eyes narrow. Then, in one swift moment, she angles the bow downwards and removes the arrow.

“Sorry about before,” she places it back in her quiver. “It slipped.”

“That’s a lie,” Gavriel drops his hands.

“Please, you know that he’d be dead if I truly wanted to hit him,” Silvia waves her hand. “I just wanted to see what you left me for.”

“By nearly killing my son?” Gavriel snarls, the face of the Lion showing once again.

Unimpressed, Silvia raises a brow. “Much is changing now that Maeve is gone. I wouldn’t mind creating ties with Terrasen and the new queen.”

Gavriel starts. “Through murder?”

“Through talking. Believe it or not, but after I read your letter I only wish to see you dead, not your child,” Silvia nods towards the party. “However I don’t feel like being burnt to a crisp, so it seems you’re safe for now. The queen would throw a hissy-fit of I killed her cousins father.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Gavriel breathes in a deep breath. “You cannot kill Aedion.”

“I just said I don’t wish to be lit alight.”

He stares at her. A fae female, near his own age yet just as deadly as she ever was. That arrow previously could have killed Aedion; Gavriel knew as soon as he saw the symbol carved into the wood. Silvia does not miss unless it’s on purpose, unless it’s to bend a situation in a certain direction. She would need to be watched, monitored, but in the grand scheme of things… it would be more dangerous to turn her away, to not know of her whereabouts.

“Yes,” Gavriel sighs as he holds the door open for her, “but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to try.”

~~~

“You let the murderess who wants to kill me in the palace?” Aedion hisses to Gavriel, the two of them standing by a food table while Lysandra chats with Silvia across the room. “You held the door open for her!”

“She said she doesn’t want to fight!” Gavriel nervously glances to the fame in question. “Don’t leave the side tonight. I doubt she’d try anything in public.”

“So you do think she’ll try to kill me!” Aedion struggles to keep his voice down. “What happened to saying she was terrible and a sadist?”

Gavriel hesitates. “In all honesty I think she and Aelin would get along quite well-“

“Do not compare my cousin to a female who tried to kill me with a poisoned arrow,” Aedion narrows his eyes, picking up a plate to keep the pretence of normality.

“I’m sorry but we have to - don’t just get cakes, Aedion, get a proper meal - we have to consider that she may just be here to form an alliance,” Gavriel ignores Aedion’s glare as he pushes forward a plate of meat. “We can’t simply attack her.”

“Oh, gods,” Aedion chokes, face pale.

“What?” Gavriel whirls to him.

“Aelin is laughing with her. Why is Aelin laughing with her?”

Wincing, Gavriel turns around and downs his glass of wine.

~~~

The party had slowly dispersed after that, Aelin calling a meeting to discuss Silvia’s presence while the female was shown to a room, Lysandra tracking her in the form of a bug. Chaol, Yrene, Dorian and Manon had immediately been filled in on the situation, the rest fo the royal guests left to their own devices so as to not cause a panic.

“I like her,” Aelin smirks from the head of the table. “She’s not near as awful as you made her out to be.”

“I never said she was awful,” Gavriel rubs at his eyes, saying back in his seat. “I simply did not wish to marry her; not when the wound of Aedion’s mother was still so fresh and new. And certainly when I had no say in marrying her.”

“We all really would have liked to have been included in this,” Dorian glares, Manon by his side baring her iron teeth in agreement. “What if she had tried to kill any of us? Chaol and Yrene left to retire early, thank the gods, but if they had been there-“

“Silvia has no interest in killing without benefit,” Fenrys buts in. “Or without a personal vendetta.”

“Wonderful,” Manon glares, “I’ll remember that if she tries to talk to me.”

Elide winces, as if knowing full well any attempt such as that could very well result in a ripped throat and bloodied iron claws. “Perhaps you should just stay away from her. You two didn’t seem to work well during the party.”

It did not go well at all. Apparently, Silvia was not going to bow to any royalty in the room, something that has infuriated many. Yet the cadre for their part just seemed to shrug, saying that immortality causes one to realise that titles such as that become tedious to answer to when they are temporary. It seems that it is not unusual for old fae to think in such a way; many showing courtesy simply to avoid confrontation.

Silvia has made it clear that she does not fear confrontation.

“An alliance with her could be useful,” Vaughan states, then winces at Aedion and Gavriel’s matching glares. “The more fae lords and ladies that side with us the better. Many changes are happening now that Maeve is gone; a space for power is being left open, and the more people we have on our side the better.”

“Unless she’s simply here to try to kill me,” Aedion scowls.

“That’s still very much a possibility,” Gavriel admits, seeming drained. “Silvia is smart, tricky. She’s the kind of female that can hold one intention and then flip it within a moment to reveal her true desires.”

“Then we’ll keep a close eye on her,” Aelin stands, glancing to Rowan. “For now, we’ll all enjoy the rest of the night.”

~~~

The sun is shining, the training ring is empty and clean, the weapons are freshly polished and Aedion swears that his movements haven’t been this smooth in weeks. Air cleanly flows through his lungs, up to head and clearing it from the smog of thoughts that’s been lurking there for the last day. Once he reaches the end, Aedion walks over to a pitcher of water, fully prepared to be bathed and ready for breakfast before the sun finishes rising.

“You’re a cocky little shit, aren’t you?”

But then again he may be about to die.

Turning around, Aedion raises his eyebrows at Silvia, who sits on a second-story window ledge. “Good morning, bitch.”

“Likewise,” Silvia drops from the ledge, landing on her feet and stalking over.

Aedion cocks his head to the side, resting his weight on one leg. “I would have thought you’d be hounding after my father.”

“Aw, someone scared he’s not going to be daddy’s favourite any more?”

Aedion bares his teeth. “More like I’m trying to avoid an arrow in my damn chest.”

“Hmm,” Silvia strides right past him, eyes flicking over his dismissively. “Not a bad life goal to have.”

~~~

“I do not like her,” Aedion mutters, tearing meat off a bone.

Lysandra eyes him from across the table, eating her lunch with considerably more finesse. “Alright… it’s just that you two actually have quite a bit in common.”

Aedion freezes, his eyes flicking up to her. “You talked to Silvia?”

“After I showed her which room she was staying in,” Lysandra shrugs. “She knew it was me in bug form so I shifted back and we started talking. After I pushed down my anger at her trying to kill you I found that she’s actually quite enjoyable.”

“Thank you for immediately forgiving her for that sin.”

“Darling, if I didn’t forgive people who tried to kill you than half of our friends wouldn’t be our friends.”

“Not the point,” Aedion glares as he stabs at a piece of meat.

“Is Gavriel suspicious of her?” Lysandra sips her tea.

“As far as I can tell he’s starting to enjoy her company.”

“Then get to know her,” Lysandra reaches across the table and pats his hand. “You may be surprised.”

~~~

“I don’t have time to baby-sit,” Silvia says as soon she opens the door to her room.

Gods, Aedion does not like this female.

So instead, Aedion levels her with a look. “Than perhaps you’d be interested in sparring with me.”

Pausing, Silvia flicks a brow up. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” Silvia repeats, placing a hand on her hip. “Just because I’m an old fae doesn’t mean fighting is my specialty. I prefer to fire from a distance.”

“Right,” Aedion peers past her, searching for a bow and quiver. “You mean like how you tried to kill me?”

“How long will that damage our relationship?” Silvia coos, dark eyes lidding. “You should be aware by now that I’m here for Gavriel, not you.”

“I know,” Aedion braces a hand against her door, blocking it as he smirks. “I think you’ll find that we’ve faced worse than a scorned female out for revenge.”

They stare at each other, Silvia’s brows raised as she taken in Aedion. He refuses to hide the message in his eyes; mistrust at the female who very well could have killed him, who makes his gut churn in warning.

“Fine,” Silvia ties her silver hair back with a scrap of leather. “Let’s go to the gardens than. The weather is nice.”

Aedion moves to the side, allowing her to stalk past him. He shudders at her unnatural lack of scent, at the way her dark eyes flick back to peer at him, those dark orbs devoid of empathy. So impossible to read, almost as if staring at a blank piece of paper devoid of any text.

He does not trust this female.

He trusts her even less as they walk through the gardens in complete silence, the female simply pausing to admire flowers and blooming buds. She cups them in her hands, running her fingers over the delicate petals before turning away to continue down the path.

“How did you and Gavriel meet?”

“A few months before our engagement was put in place.”

“Why did you shoot an arrow at me?”

“Just to see how fast you are.”

“Why do you talk to Aelin?”

“I find our conversations enjoyable; she reminds me of myself when I was younger.”

“And Lysandra?”

“Shifters once lived on my land. I was discussing her kind with her,” Silvia stops by a fountain, and turns to look at him. “Have you finished your interrogation, or must I continue to prove my innocence before I may ask questions?”

Pausing, Aedion contemplates, then nods.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Who was your mother? Don’t give me that look; I’ve heard the stories of how the lion was felled by love.”

“She was Evalin’s cousin, and sister to the king of Wendlyn,” Aedion shifts his shoulders uncomfortably. “I still haven’t heard how she and my father met.”

“Hmm,” Silvia peers in the pure water of the fountain. “I know of your family tree. And how long ago did she pass?”

Aedion narrows his eyes. “When I was five.”

“Nineteen years ago,” Silvia murmurs, sitting on the edge of the fountain. “And has Gavriel seen anyone since?”

It’s hard to ignore the churning in his stomach, but Aedion gains satisfaction in being able to nod and see the questions in her eyes.

“With who?”

“A few females here and there,” Aedion smirks lazily, meeting her gaze head on once again. “At least while I’ve known him. I don’t know about the last twenty or so years.”

A lie. The cadre already confessed to him that Gavriel seemed put off dating after the time period that he met Aedion’s mother. That all other relationships, should he ever even be pushed towards any, had been meaningless.

But Silvia doesn’t need to know that.

“Right,” Silvia says slowly, and stands once again. “I may go back to work. Thank you for your time, Aedion.”

He watches her leave, turning the corner down the path.

“How long have you been watching?” Aedion turns around and uncrosses his arms

Vaughan walks out from around a hedge, a slightly guilty look across his face. “It was Fenrys’ idea.”

“Did you seriously think I didn’t notice that you’ve all been watching me?”

“We’d dishonour Gavriel is we allowed anything to happen to you with one of our old acquaintances here,” Vaughan shrugs awkwardly. “I think we all may need to talk. Without Gavriel.”

“Oh, gods, another cadre meeting-“

“Just come to the lounge room.”

~~~

“Now, boyo,” Fenrys sits across from Aedion, a soft look adorning his face, “we knew there may come a time when a female enters Gavriel’s life whom you feel you need to compete for attention-“

“She tried,” Aedion growls, cutting Fenrys off, “to kill me!”

“That’s why we’re here,” Lorcan narrows his eyes, leaning against the mantle. “None of us trust her.”

Vaughan makes an uncertain sound, and everyone whips around to stare at him. The usually-quiet fae male shifts on his feet, fidgeting, as his eyes linger towards the door.

“Yes, Vaughan?” Rowan asks, tone making it clear that there is no escape.

“I don’t mind her…”

All at once, Fenrys, Lorcan and Aedion exclaim brash in disbelief, Rowan simply placing his head in his hands and slowly shaking it. Vaughan, for the most part, turns red, unable to look at any of them.

“We’re all going to ignore what Vaughan just said,” Fenrys decides, “and focus on this issue.”

Aedion glares. “You were just making jokes.”

“Yes, but even I’m wary of her,” Fenrys’ eyes darken.

Right, that is then a cause for concern.

“Perhaps we should talk to Gavriel,” Rowan suggests, and at once everyone turns to look at Aedion.

The demi-fae blinks. “What?”

“You’re his son,” Fenrys shrugs. “He’s more likely to tolerate you than any of us right now.”

Muttering under his breath, Aedion stands, making his way to the door. “One of these days, you’re all going to have to do your spying yourselves-“

He slams it shut behind him.

“So,” Fenrys frowns, turning to the others. “Is Silvia behind the strange sightings? Multiple guards have said that they see someone roaming at night.”

“We can only assume it’s her,” Rowan taps a finger against the arm of his chair, green eyes distant with thought. “Until then we keep an eye on her, as well as Aedion and Gavriel. We don’t know what could happen. For now, no one trust her.”

Nodding, Fenrys stands and leaves, fully prepared to receive more reports from guards. Rowan leaves as well, heading straight for Aelin to report the sightings that have already been made.

Standing alone in the room, Vaughan just frowns. “Right, because my opinion doesn’t matter.”

~~~

Aedion twitches, opening one eye at the sound of something shifting outside his room. He sees a shadow flitter under the doorway, and he slowly sits up to peer closer. Lysandra shifts besides him, mumbling before settling one again. Aedion turns to press a single kiss to her temple before stepping out of bed.

He slowly closes the door to his room behind him, peering down the hallway. Walking forward, Aedion squints, trying to decipher the shadows that flicker in the light of the lamps.

Aedion can hear nothing, smell nothing, as he steps out, looking around with his keen eyesight and spotting no one. He stares down the long staircase in front of him, narrowing his eyes at something standing near the bottom of it, and-

And a hard pressure is applied between his shoulder blades, pushing him forward.

Sloppy. He’s sloppy when he’s tired, falling head first down the staircase, crying out in alarm as he does. Instinctively, he raises his arms, trying to protect his head even as he feels shark pain split through it. Something in his chest definitely cracks once he reaches the bottom of the staircase, searing pain flowing through him as he tries to roll onto his back.

“Aedion? Aedion!”

Groaning, he tries to sit up at Lysandra’s voice but no, a rib must be cracked at the pain that flows through his torso as well. He barks out in pain as she places her hand on his collarbone, and thuds back to lay on the floor, regretting it immediately once the pain in his head continues.

“Somebody call a healer! Get Yrene!”

Wincing, Aedion looks up as Lysandra bows over him, hands hovering over his face. “I don’t…”

“You have a concussion,” Lysandra’s voice shakes, even as she keeps her hands steady. “Your head is bleeding. Try to stay awake, Aedion, you can’t- somebody get a healer!”

He knows he’s not supposed to sleep, yet he can’t help the feeling of his eyes slipping closed.

~~~

“Silvia is in the dungeons,” Aelin growls as she tears through the rooms, eyes softening just barely as she looks to Aedion’s bed. “How is he?”

Yrene hesitates, lowering her hands from where they hovered over Aedion’s body. “Broken collarbone, cracked rib, severe blow to the head. I’ve healed a majority of his injuries, but he’ll still be unsteady thanks to the head injury. He’ll need to rest for a little while so that it doesn’t develop into a problem.”

“Thank the gods,” Gavriel croaks, sinking down into an armchair, everyone sending him worried looks.

“You said it was Silvia?” Manon asks, eyes narrowing from where she stands by a window.

“I don’t know,” Lysandra refuses to move from where she sits by Aedion. “I didn’t see anyone; I just heard him yell.”

“There’s no way Aedion fell down those stairs by accident,” Dorian states, arms crossed as he stands by a dresser.

“But I highly doubt anyone would have been able to surprise him like that,” Chaol butts in from Yrene’s side, a hand on her lower back to steady her. “That just doesn’t seem plausible.”

“Silvia has no sent,” Fenrys theories. “It would have been easier for her to attack Aedion-“

“It wasn’t Silvia.”

Everyone looks to Gavriel, who is still staring at Aedion with a bleak kind of horror. Finding his son broken at the bottom of those stairs, Lysandra near tears as she held his body, shocked him more than Gavriel will ever want to admit. Seeing Aedion’s eyes closed, when they’ve never closed thanks to injury before-

It would be a sick joke if the thing that finally ended his son’s life was a tumble down the stairs and a knock to the head. An unfair, sick joke towards all the scars and marks of survival that linger across Aedion’s body.

“Are you sure?” Aelin’s hands are still curled into fists by her sides, trembling with barely contained rage.

“She likes Aedion,” Gavriel closes his eyes, unable to look at his son with his laboured breathing. “And she wouldn’t have done it this messy, or stayed to be captured.”

“She likes Aedion?” Elide asks curiously, sitting on the arm of the chair Lorcan slumps in.

Gavriel shrugs listlessly. “She’s amused by him, at the very least.”

“I’m going to see her,” Lysandra slowly stands from the bed, and everyone can already see the change in her eyes, her nails nearly forming claws.

“I don’t think it was her either,” Vaughan’s soft voice slices through the room, pausing Lysandra. “It couldn’t have been.”

“And why is that?” Lorcan scowls, looking close to storming from the room himself.

Tugging slightly at his collar, his neck flushing, Vaughan looks away. “I was with her last night.”

Everyone pauses, and blinks. The anger in the room immediately dissipated, no one seeming to know what to say or do as Vaughan shrinks away from their stares.

“I…” Gavriel sits up straighter. “You talked to her often while we were preparing the wedding-“

“Vaughan,” Fenrys stares at his friend, “are you saying that you and Silvia-“

“She was with me when Aedion fell!” Vaughan snaps, dark eyes flicking away. “That’s all I’m going to disclose on this matter.”

Even Aelin gapes, her anger replaced with shock. “I- alright. Then that means that whatever reports we’ve been having of someone walking around at night hasn’t been her.”

“You have a large number of guests here for Rowan’s birthday,” Dorian contemplates. “A spy or assassin could have easily snuck in or portrayed themselves as a guest.”

“We could hunt them down,” Manon suggests, tapping an iron nail against the window sill. “Lure them here.”

At once both Gavriel and Lysandra release feral growls, standing from where they are and whirling towards Manon. The witch pulls her lips back in a snarl herself yet makes no move to attack, simply waiting.

“We are not putting Aedion in danger,” Lysandra growls, sitting again by his side. “I’m staying with him; you all go hunt down whoever did this.”

Everyone looks to Aelin, who simply nods her head.

They pretend not to see the satisfaction in Manon’s smile at the permission to kill.

~~~

“I do not like this,” Silvia hisses as soon as the door to her cell is unlocked. “I’ve been falsely accused with murder; I was with-“

“They know Silvia,” Vaughan sags as he holds the door open, dark eyes defeated.

Her own eyes soften momentarily as she looks at him, then hardens once she turns to Aelin. “What’s happening?”

“Gavriel and Fenrys are locking down the castle, we’re hunting down whoever dared do this,” Aelin narrows her eyes at Silvia. “I assume the new attacker was also the one who shot the arrow?”

“No,” Silvia says without shame, “that was me. Where’s the boy?”

“Healing.”

“Good; it could have turned out much worse,” Silvia accepts her bow from Vaughan, slinging her quiver over her shoulder. “He could have done much more damage than just push him. I’m surprised by how sloppy his actions were, he must have underestimated Aedion.”

Aelin stiffens. “Him?”

Turning, Silvia snarls. “I’m not the only one of Gavriel’s past friends who would take this party as an opportunity to visit.”

“Who is it?” Vaughan demands, eyes flicking towards the stairs.

Silvia’s eyes darken as she answers.

~~~

Lysandra’s eyes flicker to the door at the sounds of footsteps, slowly standing to position her body in front of Aedion. It takes but a moment for her body to shift and crack, for her claws to click against the floor as she prowls towards the door.

~~~

“Shit,” Gavriel growls as he hurls himself up the staircase, practically bouncing off the walls as he hurls towards Aedion and Lysandra’s room.

“Who is he?” Aelin snaps, everyone right behind the Lion.

“Someone who hates Gavriel very much,” Silvia informs her, a small dagger in the fae’s hand already. “Two hundred years ago he challenged Gavriel to a fight for honour after he felt that Gavriel disrespected him. Of course, he was nothing but a fool, but nevertheless his hatred for Gavriel grew after he loss the battle.”

“I never thought we’d hear from him again,” Vaughan snarls, looking near-ready to shift and sink his teeth in whoever has appeared.

“Who?” Dorian asks.

“A male we all detest and hate-“ Lorcan starts, then cuts off as Elide shoves past him.

“Just tell them who it is or move!” Fenrys pushes past Lorcan, bumping him against the wall. “Favourite uncle coming through!”

“We agreed you weren’t the favourite!”

“Just move!” Gavriel sprints past the top of the staircase, shooting towards the room, a parade of deadly warriors following behind him.

A roar sounds out through the hallway, spurring them on further. As soon as they reach the gapping door they have to step to the side, a furry mass flying through it along with a roaring fae male. Immediately, Gavriel dives into the fray, slamming the bloodied figure away from Lysandra and pinning him to the ground. The lion receives a vicious punch to the door that causes his head to snap to the side, yet Gavriel makes no hesitation to raise his fist, ready to plunge it into the face below him.

“What’s happening?” Aedion mumbles, stumbling out of the room, eyes foggy as a hand braces itself on the doorframe.

Gavriel’s attention immediately goes to his son, allowing the male underneath him to land a solid hit to the chest, shocking Gavriel to the point where he falls to the side.

Immediately, the male turns and sprints, blood flowing from his open wounds, everyone darts forward, weapons out and ready, chasing to see who can reach him first-

No one is complaining when Manon finally gains her kill, the male's throat tearing as easily as paper around her iron nails. They may have to look away as her teeth dig into his arm, ripping away a solid chunk of flesh that somehow disappears.

“Aedion,” Gavriel immediately jumps to his feet, everyone turning away from the corpse as he takes Aedion’s head in his hands. “Are you alright?”

Blinking slowly, Aedion looks around the room. “I-“

“It was the old general of the army I was enrolled in,” Gavriel explains hurriedly under his breath. “I was supposed to become general but he had some issues with Maeve’s new arrangements. He’s been hunting for me ever since, but I hadn’t heard anything in years so I just assumed he gave up. With Silvia here we were distracted.”

“Thank you all for your faith,” Silvia glares heavily, before turning away, watching Manon as she bows over the males corpse with a morbid kind of fascination.

“I-“

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Aelin steps forward, immediately inspecting her cousin. “You should lie back down.”

hesitating, Aedion’s eyes quickly roam over everyone, clearly distressed and confused.

“Come on, darling,” Lysandra places a hand on his arm, ignoring her own scratches and the blood, not her own, covering her nails. “You’re not supposed to be moving.”

“E-Evalin?” Aedion blinks at Aelin, and everyone pauses.

“What?” Aelin asks slowly.

Concerned glances are swapped, many people backing away, as Aedion’s bottom lip begins to tremor as his eyes well. “I- I don’t-“

“Aedion,” Gavriel drops his voice, moving in front of Aedion, gripping his shoulders and prompting his son to look him in the eyes. “Are you alright? That’s Aelin.”

To Gavriel’s great concern, Aedion steps back, out of his arms. Eyes flicking wildly, Aedion stares at them all with clear confusion and panic, shifting as if unable to decide on whether or not to run.

Aedion makes a loud sound of distress and takes another step back. “She… baby…”

“Aedion,” Lysandra creeps forward, holding her hands out in front of her. “Do you know who I am?”

Everyone pales as he shakes his head frantically, suddenly sobbing.

“You don’t know who we are?” Gavriel chokes, reaching out to touch him.

His wail is enough of an answer.

[sceawere]

an post | alfie solomons

for anons who wanted worker!reader, bigsister!reader, and domestic!alfie

i hope i did you proud

“It’s perfect for you, I promise”

“I don’t know, Alice, I have the girls to think about”

“I know, but think about it. If you’re going to live in gang territory, you can pick a trench and have people to back you up or you can sit in no man’s land and hope the shit misses you on the way past”

“That’s very romantic, I’ll tell Ollie you said that”

“Oh piss off, I got with Ollie before I knew all his shit. You have that advantage – you’d know what you’re walking into”

“When I get with Ollie?” you teased back at her, trying to avoid the serious part of this conversation. You’d had enough of serious the last few weeks.

She lifted her eyebrow at you and tilted her head.

“You need a job, I have a job for you”

“As a gangster’s personal secretary, yeah it’s a dream career”

“I don’t know, there are benefits”

“Such as…?”

“He’s a dish, if I’m being honest”

“Alice!”

“I’m just saying, if I’d seen him first, maybe…”

“I’m definitely telling Ollie you said you wanted to fuck his boss, you know that right? That poor puppy dog of a boy, you’re gonna tear him apart one day”

“You have no idea”

“Oh, Jesus, Alice, stop there”

“No, you wanna know”

“I don’t, I do not”

“He does this thing…”

“Who does?”

“Sarah, out!”

Alice broke down laughing, dropping the box she was ‘helping’ to unpack (you’d seen her open the lid and do little else) and walked over to grab your little sister into a big hug.

“Oh, little Star, how are you?”

Sarah gave her a smile back and played with her freshly curled hair.

“I’m good, your hair is nice”

“Oh, thank you! You look as scuffed as ever” She picked up your sisters hands, running the pads of her fingers over the bruised knuckles there.

“A girl at school is teaching me to fight”

“Good skill to have”

“That’s what I said”

Alice turned to you with a smile, pulling Sarah to her side.

“Star, tell your sister to trust me”

“What are you doing now?”

“I am seeking her gainful employment”

“She’s lying to you, Star”

Ellie, the middle girl came in with the baby Martha on her hip, crying and passing her to you.

“Oh baby, come here, what happened?”

You shushed at her, rocking her little body against you in the small room.

“I think she wants to go home”

“Well, this is home now, sweetheart”

Ellie gave you a look and went over to cuddle with Sarah and Alice. Alice had been your friend since school and stood by you through the hell of the last few years. First your brother had died in the war, then your father passed a year ago. You’d managed off his2 war pension and their savings for that time but when you lost your job at the offices it all went to hell very quickly and you hadn’t been able to stay in the house you’d all grown up in. You were the oldest, now that your brother was gone, and double Sarah’s age. Everyone just assumed you were a poor widow with her children, rather than an orphan and her sisters.

You’d manage to scrape together enough for the first month’s rent on a flat big enough, just about, for the 4 of you, and enough money to keep you fed in that time too. But you needed to start working again. And Alice had come over with a promise to help you get situated and also of an exciting new opportunity her boyfriend had told her about.

“Think about it, please” she whispered to you as you hovered in the hallway outside the flat, and you’d hugged her and given her a promise to not discount it immediately.

-

15 applications later and nearing closer to the end of the month with every day, you found yourself trying not to slip down stone steps into the basement of a…bakery. You’d known for years that your friend’s boyfriend wasn’t on the up and up but you’d never actually been this close to the reality of it. You’d always had plausible deniability, except that time early on when Alice had climbed up your front step with a bottle of rum under each arm screaming ‘delivery from the kind bakers at the Aerated Bread Company!’.

Men were rolling barrels around and giving you side glances as you tried your best to keep your head high and marched forward towards the office at the end of the way. Ollie spotted you and walked over, hugging your side and guiding you over.

“He’s a puppy underneath, I promise”

“Oh, well that bodes well”

“Just…be you”

“What in the good Lord’s name does that even mean, Ollie?”

He gave you a wink as he opened the door and showed you in.

“Right, another one?”

“Last one, boss, I promise”

“Last one. Name?”

You stuttered for a moment, having been looking around the room while the two men talked and having to quickly whip you head back around to reply.

“Why is he so sure you’re right for this?”

“I’m his girlfriend’s best friend, he knows me pretty well”

“You’re his-wait what?”

He looked up at you for the first time and scowled at you for a moment, then relaxed his face, then scowled again.

Fuck, Alice was right, he’s hot.

“Ollie, you bringing me girlfriend’s friends now?”

“She’s good, boss, she worked at that factory up town, the government one”

He hummed, turning back to you and staring you down. You assumed he was trying to intimidate you, and it was working a little but probably not as much as he wished.

“You got a piece of paper for me or something?”

He lifted his hand to wave you over, holding it out for you to put your references in, and he looked you over again before he studied it.

“Why ain’t you working for the big government factory up town anymore?”

“I punched my boss”

He left his glasses half perched on his nose to look up at you and you saw Ollie smile out the corner of your eye. You pulled the corners of your lips up – a ‘yeah, it happened’ grimace.

“You punched your boss?”

“And…his boss as well actually. I think he was a minister for something?”

He dropped the glasses and flopped back in the chair, smiling wide.

“Why the fuck did you do that, love?”

“Cos I found out he was putting hands on the girls on the floor”

“What, the minister?”

“No, my boss. He knew they couldn’t stand up to him without risking their job, the prick”

“What did the minister do then?”

“He didn’t stand up to him, either”

“So you did?”

You nodded to him, suddenly feeling very self-conscious under his gaze. He threw the paper back onto the desk and it floated over to you.

“Yeah, she’ll do”

-

You settled in surprisingly quick to the job of personal secretary to a gangster boss. Most of the business he had you handle was the legitimate stuff, or at least stuff that appeared that way. As time went on, he trusted you more, and lowered you gently into the riskier stuff.

The pay was good, nearly double your last wage, and you guessed it was a form of combat pay. That and the boon of the private sector, you joked to Alice. She picked the girls up from school for you when you had to work late and you formed a steady rhythm to your life, despite the erratic environment.

And you were good at your job. Alfie had parked a desk outside his office for you, next to Ollie’s space, and you spent the days flitting in and out from the floor to the office. The men treated you with respect and brought you lunch when you couldn’t find time. Some of their kids went to school with your sisters and you ended up forming an odd little community here, in the shadows of the basement of the Aerated Bread Company.

“ABC? Honestly?” You’d quirked an eyebrow at Alfie when he leant out his office window and handed you your new business cards.

“We came up with it when we young and drunk, din’t we? You try founding a bloody empire” he’d muttered as he backed his way through and slammed the glass shut again.

You smiled to yourself, staring at the card and biting your lip.

“Chief Secretary for the Aerated Bread Company”

-

The break came when you were trying to wrangle the girls into bed one night, your patience draining faster that was little energy was left over from work. You had a very giggly toddler strewn over one shoulder when there was an insistent knock on the front door. The sound made you start, and the girls laughter faded away as the rhythm beat more frantically only a moment later.

“Sarah, get everyone under the big bed, go on”

You helped the older girl round the smaller ones up and cast an eye back to check they were safely tucked under the frame before you checked the peep hole.

“Holy fucking shit”

You sputtered with the locks, hands uncertain, and wrenched the door open.

“Ollie, what the fuck?”

He didn’t speak, just charged into the close hallway, half dragging Alfie with him. He had his arm wrapped over his shoulder, Ollie supporting most of his weight, and there was a fall of blood sneaking down his shirt from the contact.

“Lock the door”

You didn’t even check the hallway, afraid someone might be right behind them, and secured the locks again. He was slowly dropping Alfie onto the sofa, groaning with the pain, flopping about like a rag doll.

“Ollie, what the fuck is happening?”

“I need to patch him up, this was the closest place”

He was furiously working, pulling off Alfie’s jacket and waistcoat, bundling the latter up to use as a compress, already too soaked with blood to be worth trying to save.

“He needs a doctor – you need to call a proper doctor”

“I can’t”

“Oh, like you don’t have a doctor on the payroll”

“We do but…they shot him too. Looks like we’re hiring”

“Oh for fuck’s sake”

You dragged your hands up and over your face, blocking out your eyes for a second to think.

“Alright, move”

You threw yourself down in front of Alfie, barging Ollie out of the way and taking over the pressure on the wound.

“Go put some water on a boil, there’s a big pot under the sink, you need to fill it right up”

He nodded and jumped up, stuttering in mid-air.

“Uh, where-“

“That room there”, you nodded in the direction of the kitchen.

You lifted the makeshift compress slightly, rolling back the edge to see the damage and saw a slice across his abdomen through the tear in his shirt. The bullet had ripped across his front and side and that’s what was causing it to bleed so badly, rather than being a deep wound.

“Ollie, there’s clean cloths in the blue drawer – bring them all for me please”

He ran back in a moment later, cloth in hand, and dumped them on the sofa next to Alfie. He went back to check on the water and left you alone with Alfie again. You were suddenly aware of the fact that you were sat only in your vest and knickers and thanked your stars you’d worn your best pair to cheer yourself up.

“What d’ya think doc?”

Alfie’s voice was weaker than you’d ever heard it, tired and gruff as usual, but fainter. You jumped, not even realising he’d been awake the whole time, thinking he’d long since passed out. When his eyes set against yours they were bright as ever but there was pain behind them.

“It’s not as bad as the bleeding looks – it’s shallow so it’s bleeding more, like grazing your knee, you know? It takes ages to stop when you rip the surface”

“Well that’s good”

“No, not really. There’s no bullet to dig out which is a saving grace but if I can’t get you clotting soon you’re fucked”

“Oh, lovely, thanks darlin’”

You set about folding up a new cloth with one hand, the other keeping the pressure on, then performing a quick switch, rolling the new into the space of the old as quick as possible.

“Sorry, did you want me to lie? Thought you paid me to be honest”

“Your bedside manner is fucking atrocious, love”

“Yeah well it’s not my manners that are going to keep you alive so stuff it”

He groaned as you put another bout of pressure on the wound and you shushed quietly to him, doing your best to soothe him but not achieving much.

“I only have aspirin and I can’t give you that”

“The fuck not?”

“It thins your blood out, what you lose in pain you’ll also lose in blood, and you can’t risk that now”

“Fucking hell”

He dropped his head back against the headrest and took deep, ragged breaths.

“Tell me you have booze at least”

“I do actually but you can’t have any”

“Why not?”

“Because it thins you-“

“Thins my blood, yeah, lovely”

“Ollie! Whisky bottle, top shelf!”

He rolled his head back up to scowl at you and the pale tint to his skin sent a rush of worry through you.

“It’s for cleaning you up, nice and sterile”

You shrugged back at him, taking the bottle from Ollie, uncorking it with your teeth, and taking a deep swig.

“Uh- that’s-“

“Shut up, both of you, I needed that”

You dropped the bottle to the floor by your knee and pushed yourself up to hover over Alfie.

“Right, Ollie, I need his shirt off”

“Steady on darlin’, I’d love to but I’m not in the best of health and Ollie here, he’s only a boy ain’t he?”

You laughed despite yourself, breathy with a head shake, while Ollie set to work giving you better access. You placed a splayed hand against his chest to support him as he leaned forward and found yourself a little closer than comfortable. He’s bleeding out in front of you, can you calm it down? When his head fell to your shoulder, nuzzling into the skin there with the pain, you shushed into his ear and nuzzled back, the only relief you could give to him.

“Lean back, let me get you fixed up”

Ollie retrieved the boiling pot and after a moment of stuttering about, kicked the rug over to protect the floor from the heat.

Rolling back the cloth slightly, you noticed the bleeding was a lot slower now, the pressure doing its work, his body responding. You dropped the sodden cloth to the floor next to the pot and collected a new one, draping it over the edge to soak, before splashing your hands with the whisky to clean them off. You set to wiping at the wound with the cloth, drawing away the blood to better assess the trouble.

“Oh, that’s even better than I thought, might not even scar”

You noticed a few little scars dotted around the plain of his chest, the inside of his arms. You wondered how many times he’d been dragged into the closest room and stuck back together.

“Here, take-over”

“Where are you going?”

“I need to get some stuff to stitch him up with, just keep cleaning the blood off”

You moved out of the room and headed towards the bedroom, checking yourself for blood before entering. You dropped to the floor and reached for the girls.

“Come on, it’s ok”

They crawled out to you and you picked the little one up and held her close while the others sat on the bed.

“I heard you swear”

“Yeah, Sarah, I’m sorry, don’t you repeat that”

“Are they still here? Is it bad men?”

You stuttered over the answer in your head while you dug out your sewing kit. The obvious answer was yes.

“They’re not going to hurt us, sweetie. They’re…my friends. You remember Alice’s Ollie? They just need some help”

It wasn’t a lie and it avoided speaking to their morality. The perfect answer.

“Just stay in here with each other, alright? Try to get some sleep”

You passed Martha over and made sure to shut the door tight behind you, not wanting your sisters to stumble out and see a bleeding gangster strewn about their living room.

“Who were you talking to?”

Alfie looked on guard, trying to work out if there was someone else in the flat that could pose a threat.

“Just my sisters. They’re 10, 7, and 4, so maybe don’t shoot them”

He settled at your sarcastic tone and let out a gruff laugh, then winced. You set the box on the table and pulled out a smaller container from inside.

“I have some stuff left over from when my brother used to box, proper stuff, he won’t get an infection or nothing”

“You have a brother?”

“Had”

You concentrated on sterilising the needle and threading it up, avoiding the conversation entirely.

“You can have a tiny bit of whisky, now”

You passed him the bottle over, pulling it back from his grasp at the last second.

“Notice I said ‘a tiny bit’ and not ‘one drink’ so don’t go pulling any shit like downing it in one go and telling me it doesn’t break the rule, yeah?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, grabbing at the bottle again.

He was a good patient overall, barely wincing while you stitched him up. You dumped everything in the hot pot and told Ollie to dump it all in the kitchen, you’d sort it in the morning.

“You need to sleep here tonight. Can’t have you stumbling around half bled, ripping out your stitches”

You braced yourself for an argument but Alfie just slumped down onto his good side, too out of it to bother. Ollie fell back into a chair next to him and nodded at you.

“Thanks”

“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll grab you some blankets and that”

When you got back into the bedroom the girls were huddled under the covers, whispering to each other and you quickly swapped out your clothes in the shadows so they wouldn’t see the flecks of blood that had ended up making their way to you. Crawling in, you made sure to lie between them and the door, between them and the wounded gangster sleeping on your couch. You sent a prayer up for nothing in particular, your brain so frazzled and fatigued. You just wanted peace for the night.

-

“-and she did. So I said I might want to be a nurse someday, too”

“You’d be good at it”

Alfie was in the strange space between sleep and consciousness and he swore the bullet had taken his sense because he heard Ollie chatting with a little girl. A cool cloth was draped across his head and someone was poking at his wrist.

“Fuck’s happening?”

He tried to drag himself up on the sofa but a weight pushed him back down and when he opened his eyes they met with the wide ones of a small girl.

“Don’t let my sister hear you swear. And don’t get up, you’ll die”

“He won’t die, Sarah”

“He’ll die if I say he will, Ollie. I’m his nurse”

Alfie looked towards Ollie with an expression that repeated his question without the need for words.

“She had to run out for some supplies and stuff, this is her little sister”

“I’m Sarah. I’m your nurse”

Alfie pulled the cloth from his forehead and chucked it at Ollie with his good arm, turning to shake Sarah’s hand.

“Lovely to meet ya, darlin’”

Sarah preened a little at that and her eyes lit up.

“Oh, hello”

“Could you go get me some water please, sweet, only I feel like I’ve swallowed that cloth right there, the one I just threw at Ollie”

She giggled to herself and ran off out of his sight and he turned to Ollie with fire in his eyes.

“You let her go off alone?”

“I sent guys with her, I didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you here with nothing but children to watch out for you”

“You should have left the guys here and gone for her”

“She wouldn’t let me, I don’t think she trusted strangers around the girls”

“But, she left the kids here with us?”

“Yeah, she struggled with that one. She looks after them by herself Alfie. Three of them. Alice does what she can but…”

Sarah was back with the water now, hovering in the doorway with a glass in hand.

“Are you done whispering or should I come back?”

Alfie waved a hand and lay back.

“Where’s the rest of ya?”

“Ellie has homework and Martha is napping”, she dropped the glass into his hand and set him with strong eyes, “which is what you need to do once you’ve drank that”

“Bloody hell, you my nurse or my jailor?”

“Oi!”

“Yeah, you’re sisters” he handed her the glass back and scowled at her sudden beaming smile, turning his back to stare at the couch and try to sleep once more. His side ached and he felt weaker than he wanted to admit. He drifted back in and out, listening to them shuffling about the house, chattering away. He woke up at one point to Ollie explaining a sum to one of them and wondered how exactly he’d found himself here. He was a boss, he ran an empire. And here he was, camped out on a sofa, in his secretary’s flat, listening to his right hand man explain numbers to children.

-

They ended up sleeping on your sofa for a few more days, until Alfie was strong enough and calm enough that you trusted him not to do something stupid and end up needing serious care.

You fell into an odd rhythm together, though you had to set some rules after the first day when you’d woke up to an empty bed and found the girls stood around the sleeping men, daring each other to poke one of them awake.

Sarah had taken to acting as Alfie’s full time nurse, bringing him glasses of water and fresh bandages, watching intently as you swapped them out and taught her how to spot the signs of infection. He was doing well but the blood loss had taken its toll and he ended up sleeping a lot.

You got back from ferrying the girls to school one day to find the flat empty, nothing but the bleached cloths drying on the radiator to prove they were ever there.

-

Alfie didn’t come back to the bakery for another week so you and Ollie ended up playing defence, trying to hold down the fort and bat away the rumours that Alfie was dead. People were nervous. As much chaos as Alfie caused, he kept everything running smoothly too, sometimes the only thing controlling very sensitive deals and keeping dangerous people in line. His absence was noted. By people who weren’t nervous too, by people who were excited. Some low level sleaze-ball had the gall to turn up at the bakery and practically start measuring for drapes. He’d leered at you and Ollie had gone for him before you could when he’d slapped your arse on the way out.

You spotted the headline the next day while you jogged past the newsagent’s in the rain. It made you turn back and stand in the open, staring, until you felt it start to soak through your coat.

“Gangster found on steps of his home, throat slit, hand missing”

-

You threw your coat over some old barrels to dry, though down here in the damp of the basement you doubted much would shift. You were so busy wringing your hair out you didn’t notice Alfie was sat at his desk until you were already in the office.

“Mornin’”

“Mr Solomons! Christ alive, what are you doing here?”

“I’m back, aren’t I?”

“Should you be?”

“Yeah, yeah, had a proper doctor take my stitches out, he said you did a good job. Anyway I hired ‘em so I won’t be bothering you or the girls anymore”

“Oh…alright”

“Yeah”

You stood staring at each other, neither really knowing what to say.

“I have the Dickinson papers to sort out, so…”

“I, uh, I moved your desk in here, I hope that’s alright”, he scratched at his beard, pointing to the desk at the back of the room, “well I had it moved because to be honest my fucking side still feels like someone tried to make mince out of it. Ollie moved it. But…saves me screaming for you half the time, don’t it?”

You nodded along, looking between him and the desk.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me”

“Right…papers”

“Yeah, yeah, papers”

You worked in silence together for a while, stealing glances. A question burned at the back of your mind but never quite made it to your lips, until he finished a phone call and you jumped on your chance.

“Did you kill that guy?”

“What, the one who shot me? Yeah he’s long gone, love”

He waved off with his free hand, still concentrating on the numbers he was tallying.

“No, the creep who tried to stage the takeover?”

“Oh him…”

“Yeah, only someone…there seemed to be a statement in there and I thought-“

“You don’t put your hands on ladies, do you? My mother made sure to teach me that bloody early, his should’ve too”

“Oh…well”

“Anyway, can’t have men coming in here sniffing round my grave before I’m already in it, sends a bad message”

“Thank you”

He hummed in his throat.

“Ollie said you helped sort things out while I was down, I appreciate that”

“Just doing my job, Mr Solomons”

-

He sent cars with you to pick the girls up from school that afternoon - ‘just in case anyone’s still sniffing around, yeah?’ – And half the street stared as you waited at the gates with two men in suits. The girls acted like princesses, waving to everyone as they passed, and you slapped their hands down with a giggle.

When you got home there was an envelope in your mail locker, blank except for a scrawl on the back flap.

“The doc said you did a good job”

Inside were a stacks of cash, crisp new notes, bundled together in tens.

-

“I can’t take this”

You threw the envelope onto his desk the next morning, crumpled from where you’d been playing with it so long, trying to work out what to do with it.

“Why not?”

“It’s…it’s nearly 6 months wages, Alfie, what the hell made you think I would?!”

“Well, it were either that, or I buy a new house for ya, so I thought…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

You’d long since lost your reminder to be professional and started acting purely on impulse, the whole situation too messed up for you to pretend it was normal.

“You can’t stay in the flat, not after I was there”

“What-“

“There’s been people sniffing around. I put men on your street when I was there and they never left. People have been sniffing around, people they recognise. People who work for people I’m not friends with, and they think you’re mine now, don’t they? I was in there nearly a week, that’s suspicious. So you have to make yourself scarce with the girls”

You let the information stew in your for a few moments, dropping into the chair in front of his desk.

“They would have never got near the girls, I made sure of it”

“The new guy who lives under me, he’s…”

“One of mine, yeah”

“Fucking hell”

You bent over, head to knees, hands in hair.

“They would have never got near the girls”

His tone was soft and you lifted yourself up to look at him, wiping tears away from the edge of your eyes.

“I made sure of it”

He nodded at you and you nodded back. He pulled himself up from the chair and walked round to perch on the edge of the desk in front of you.

“Your dad’s gone, yeah?”

“Yeah, and my brother”

“What about your mum?”

“She…” you shook your head, “I don’t know where the hell she is. Haven’t in years”

“Right, just you and the girls then”

“Are we going to have to leave? London?”

“No, I don’t want you too far just in case, we’ll find you somewhere in my territory”

You looked up at him, looking down at you, and pleaded to him with your eyes.

“It’s just been me and them for a while and I…”

“I’ll keep you safe”

Neither of you said the next part out loud but you could tell by each other’s expressions what you were thinking.

It was me who put you in danger.

-

The girls felt like all their numbers had come at once as they shuffled into the new house. A whole house, to themselves. Not a room on a floor. No more of the long, dark corridors, and paper thin walls. They ran about, from room to room, Ellie screaming her way up the steps and off out of site.

Martha was perched on Alfie’s hip as he gave you both a personal tour of the place and at some point you broke down crying in the kitchen.

“No…no sweetheart, that’s. Right, that’s not productive, though is it so…” he huffed about as you sobbed into your hand, not sure what the hell to do with himself.

Sarah ran in holding hands with Ellie, smiling wildly until she saw you crying, moving over to you and throwing her arms around you.

“She’s just happy, Mr Solomons. This is big for us”

“Right, well. That’s lovely”

“Thank you, Alfie”

It was the first time you’d used only his first name and he shuffled Martha on his hip.

“Well, thanks for saving my life as well, I never said that” he pointed at Sarah “and you as well for what you did”

“You’re welcome, Mr Solomons”

“Well, you can call me Alfie too, while we’re here. It’s well into my territory so I can pop in and out, no bother”

“Oh, you can, can you?”

“Oh fine, I’ll piss off then, you buy a lady a house and-“

“Don’t swear in front of the kids!”

Martha laughed and he turned to scowl at her.

“Are you laughing at the swearing or me getting told off? Hmm?”

“Both”

“Both, right, getting it from all sides, fuc-“

“Oi!”

It was Ellie’s turn to scold him and everyone’s turn to laugh at his expression afterwards as he scratch his forehead and looked off through the window to the courtyard, muttering to himself.

“Why do I bother? House full of bloody women, you’re an idiot Alfie”

-

He stayed for tea that night, and came again the next, and eventually you ended up seeing more of him at home than you did at work. He was softer here, he wasn’t the boss – the girls were. It was his sanctuary and as the days passed and the seasons turned you felt the space around you change too. Smiles over dinner tables, fingers flitting together over paperwork, silences that stretched a little too long.

One night he’d had enough of playing coy teenagers and picked you up onto the desk, pouring out 6 months’ worth of swallowed kisses. You had his shirt halfway over his head when Ollie threw open the door and it was all broken.

There was a knock at the door that night and you wondered who it could be. Ollie and Alfie both had keys, Alice would just borrow yours or Ollie’s, and no-one else was supposed to know you lived here. You’d pulled out the gun Alfie’s had left in the drawer by the door and kept it to your side while you checked out the peep hole. Alfie was there, shuffling in the stoop, and you pulled the door open.

“What the fuck are you knocking for, you never knock?”

“I thought I-bloody hell, love, you gonna shoot me? If the kiss were that bad you could have just told me”

“What are you-“You put the gun back in the drawer and moved to let him inside “get in the house, Alfie”

“Do you want me in though?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Because today changed things a bit, didn’t it, and if I come in now, it’s not as your boss”

You messed with your hair a little, nervous hands, and leaned against the doorframe, keeping your eyes on the street, rather than on him.

“What would it be as?”

“Well…”He had his own nervous hands, scratching at his nose, at his beard, pushing his hat brim up and down “I was hoping we were gonna fuck, to be honest love, and I can say that because I’m not in the house see, and so I can swear how I like”

You broke down laughing, him smiling along with you.

“Never mind it’s my bloody house in the first place”

“Uh…our house”

“Oh, right, she’s moving me in already, bloody hell, we’re doing happy families now”

“I meant me and the girls, you twit”

“Yeah, you and the girls, right”

“Alfie…get in the house”

“In the house?”

You leaned forward, grabbing at the front of his shirt, and joining your lips, stepping back and pulling him with you in one motion.

“Our house” you mumbled against his lips as he kicked the door shut behind you.