#Hand and a Half Bastard Sword 15

[kultofathena]

Ronin Katana – Hand and a Half Bastard Sword #15

This late Medieval bastard sword from Ronin Katana has a tempered and sharp blade forged from 1075 high carbon steel with hollow ground blade geometry. The stiff blade will cut and thrust with authority and decisiveness. The guard and pommel are crafted from stainless steel and the grip is wood which is tightly bound in leather. The blade is mounted into the hilt with a peen over the pommel for a tough and lasting construction. The sword is paired with a wood-core scabbard which is overlaid in faux leather and fitted with stainless steel chape and locket. A simple sword belt and frog of faux leather is included.

Please Note: The sword scabbard with its buckles is arranged for wearing on the right hip for a left hand draw.

[gav-san]

THE QUEEN OF THE KING 15/15

Previous / ...

It starts with Phantom’s warning neighs.

One moment you are asleep, wrapped in your white shift and Ganondorf's arms, and the next you are being flung over his shoulder as he twists to plant you in between his hot back and the freezing rock of the shrine. Even when you try to wriggle, to help, he won’t let you, defending you with his body, his golden sword in one hand.

You are very discombobulated, but after a moment of gaining your bearings, you realize that you are not alone.

There are at least fifty people in black and red uniforms of a sort surrounding you, placed in circles, trapping you. They do not look particularly menacing, the tight clothing and tall hairdo are more funny than anything else.

If you knew you’d be having visitors, you would have dressed in more than a thin slip of silk last night. Though much else had seemed silly at the time, considering your, uh, activities, and how eager you had been.

One glance at Ganondorfs face makes you realize that he is making a face you have yet to see. It causes your stomach to drop in fear, but also a bevy of butterflies to erupt in a misplaced twist of lust. The way his skin sketches taught, the scrub of an unshaven beard shadowing the sharp jaw as it contorts is downright vicious. 

“Molduga Pits.” He says, clearly a curse, but not one you are familiar with, sounding exasperated and annoyed. “You bastards again .” You place a hand on his bare back, glancing at the people furtively. We’re these enemies of the Gerudo? Perhaps from an ally of Hylia? Maybe she could help.

You go to move forward, thinking that perhaps you can reason with them, but Ganondorfs stance is steel, not letting you move an inch out of his protection. 

“Greetings, Emperor of Calamity,” Someone says, moving up front, from inside the crowd.

The number of men scared you, but this man was far too dramatic to be serious. You look around, trying to see Ganondorf’s horse, Phantom, but he is nowhere to be found. He probably rushed off, as a good desert horse was trained to do, you think wryly. 

There go the quickest means of escape, and now you’d have to face the weird cult head-on. 

The foremost ring parts, and a thick-bellied male in a ridiculous golden girdle step over the red suit steps forward, taking a deep bow. “I, my esteemed liege, am the third Master Koga-” He drawls, his voice surprisingly whiny for such a rotund man. 

“I know who you are,” Ganondorf growls, rising to his full height and moving to better shield you, and you can’t help compare how intimidating his figure is, in comparison. “You think coming yourself will change my answer? Time and time again you Yiga have been told that the Gerudo do not hold to your foolish beliefs!” 

Yiga? You thought that sounded familiar. You swear you knew it, but it was hard to concentrate when thick muscles were just centimeters from crushing your head in. 

The Yiga’s footsteps pause, clearly considering a new plan. Or just watching you turn into a princess sandwich.

“Well,” The man begins again, voice less methodical but much darker. “We figured we needed a more direct conversation… since you’ve already found the dread witch who threatens your reign with her brainwashing,” There is a shift, and you realize, that there to hurt you. 

You go white.

And the Yiga’s admission, Ganondorf’s entire demeanor changes from cautious hesitance to tense anger.

“Keep your filthy mouths away from my queen’s good name!” Ganondorf says, and you’re surprised to see him come to your defense so rapidly. “She has nothing to do with your nonsense, and neither will I!” You cling to him as if only to remember he is not mad at you but for you.

How long had it been since someone defended you half so passionately? Your heart beat like it was going to bounce out of your chest.

Master Koga, the third, or whoever he was sighed deeply, like he had expected this.

“ A shame, really. That we have to step in.” And then he had the gall to sound offended! “I can tell this vain creature has enraptured you with her magic, and she should be dealt with by us underlings!”

Ganondorf made a growling sound, deep in the back of his throat. “If you come even a step closer, or make any moves to hurt my wife, I swear I will hunt every last Yiga fool down and leave you in the sand for the Moldugas to feed their young on! ” That small growl became a roar as he finished, leaving you far more wary of the man before you. He had never once come close to forfeiting his calmness, but it seems the thought of losing you was more than enough to unleash his fury. 

You can’t help but become warm at the sight of him roaring for you, his wife.

And, you think, you could spend the rest of your life listening to him say it.

But the Yiga, for all their talk about being subjects to their prospective king, had no wisdom in their loyalty, and they did not concede to his warnings. Instead, each and every last one of them turned to their weapons, from the glimpse you could see.

“We’d rather not fight our future king, but I can see we have no choice!” Koga said, moving from his pathetic position to unleash a wicked-looking, curved sword, one that indicated he was much more serious now. Gandorf copied his hand on the giant sword he had tucked at his hip, the other moving around your waist in an awkward, backward tango, as if he is going to jump over all the men. All the Yiga men grasp their weapons, nervously, like he is a giant water buffalo ready to charge them. But he doesn’t do so, instead, tucking something small into your waistband. He inches even closer, if possible, keeping his voice low.

“I love you.” He says, and you press into him, ready for whatever, “And I’m sorry I have put you in danger. I swear I will protect you with my life.”

You know he does. And you finally know that you do too. Probably since the first glimpse of him you had, he had taken your heart.

“I love you too.” You say, and he pauses like he is relishing it for the last time.

 Then he raises his sword, pointing it at the men, pivoting to the shrine. Magic, you think, swells at his fingertips, and the same golden presence wraps around your bands of gold.

“I will find you again, my moon. ” He swears.

Your heart dropped, the words far too fatalistic for comfort. You furrow your brows, confused as you place a hand on his own before it retreats. 

He gives a thin smile, though you only guess that, as he is still focused on the people before him, save for the intimate brush of a finger to loosen your grip. You think he must be ready to toss you over his shoulder or something.

But it seemed Ganondorf was risking no threat to you.

He immediately moves, and in one swift motion, you are pushed inside the shrine his magic has reopened. It’s as gentle as he can, but you still sprawl, as he moves so swiftly that you had no time to react. No time to disagree or do anything.

“Stop!” You lift out a hand, but he is too quick, moving to protect you, to leave you safe in the quiet, space, lit only but the eerily blue of the ever-glowing magic there.

You stumble to the ornate stone-clad floor, and can barely catch the moment that a giant stone slab seals over the entrance, cutting you off from the outside, as well as one another. You flail, running to the rock, pounding your fists. 

But there was no handle, nor even a seam that you could attempt to pry. The rock face was so smooth it was as if one had never been chipped away. Magic, you think in a manic frenzy, trying to will yourself to pound it to dust. 

There are no sounds of battle, nothing but the thud of your hands, which eventually stop, once they have turned bruised and bloody from your fallen endeavors. You sink to the ground, to your knees, fat, ugly tears pouring from your chin as you cry. They make your face itch, but you don’t wipe them away, instead letting them sink into the dust-less floor.

You aren’t sure how long that lasts, because, at some point, you fall asleep, only to wake in what seemed like moments later. You had not the ability to even forget a moment of your sorrow but were so drained, tired and your hands hurt so fiercely that you drug yourself to the cool edge of the pool.

It is unsurprising to see what a mess you are. Ganondorf had proudly braided your hair last night, proclaiming it to be an honor to do so, and it had held reasonably well, and you can comb it into place. But your face is drawn, with dark circles, and red eyes. Nearer to the lights, you can see that you have injured your hands, enough that not even the blister gel would work. 

You slap away the image, that cold water engulfing your hand. The coolness engulfs it, bringing relief and peace. You think it’s probably hypothermia, but after a few moments, you realize that it’s not it, bringing your hand up to the surface, breaking the smooth surface again. 

It’s healed.

You stare in astonishment at the flesh that has mended back together, blood and bruises completely gone. 

Your other hand goes in right after and you give a huge sigh of alleviation. 

It makes much more sense how you had not been sore the previous night, though your husband is quite big and very eager.

And that thought cuts short your wonder over the healing pool in the shrine, and back to your misery over your husband. Just what in Demise’s name was he thinking, sealing you away in here? Surely there was something you could have done! Even be a distraction! Your head pounds and you lean down, taking giant gulps of water, but misjudge in your haziness.

Slipping forward, you plunge entirely into the freezing pool. 

-X-

You aren’t sure how long you stay underwater. You think you may be dead at some point, but the cold never abates. But you don’t end up finding the side. Instead, you’re pulled out, by a pair of very brawny, bronze arms. You think someone is carrying you. Sand whips by your face from a strong breeze.

At some point, bright sunlight hits your face, and you wince. It’s not long after that the sunlight drops, and the steps turn smoother. Then you’re finally placed down on what seems to be a bed. Voices fade in and out, some you think you may recognize.

Gerudo, you think.

Hands press against your chest, shoving forcefully in. You give a sharp gasp, coughing on nothing as they push again and again. And just when you think you’ll die, someone turns you, and you throw up.

You can process the voices better now, that air has gone back to your brain.

“We found her in the shrine outside of town-”

“In?”

“Yeah, the door opened and she was in a pool there!”

“The shrine water- It was still in her lungs!”

“In a shrine pool?”

“Yes, she has the seal of the King!”

It’s mostly water that comes out, but you can’t tell, with your head banging. But you can breathe again even if it hurts, and so you immediately fall asleep. Or unconscious. 

But there are more hands now, pushing you to stay awake. 

-X-

The heat in the desert is very reasonable, under the thick woven hanging. You look out to the sand, towards the distance where a large mountain range juts like a knife standing straight up. The glint of sand makes it difficult to look straight on, but the Gerudo mask does a good job of deflecting any lasting harm. 

You try and stay out of the sun as much as possible. The Gerudo clothes do little to offer protection, as they have little need to do so, and are meant to be breezy and comfortable. And it is indeed breezy, wearing only thin silk with gold edging.

You think it shows off far too much of your chest and belly, but Queen Dramiria had insisted seeing you in traditional clothing was good for Gerudo's morale, with Ganondorf still missing. And since the regent queen was your mother-in-law, you couldn’t find it in your heart to refuse.

She was the one you had first met. 

“You have been missing for a month.” She said within the first hour of your recovery. She had more or less been waiting there since you had been brought in, and subsequently, the seal Ganondorf had slipped to you had been recognized.  “Of course, I knew right away, with that hair. My son wrote almost endlessly of your moon-like beauty.”

You hold that same seal now. You don’t think you could relinquish it if they asked, which surprisingly, they hadn’t.

You want to turn back to look at the sand, but you also want your mother-in-law to like you. You flush, throat too sore to say much, and not knowing what to say anyhow. Thankfully, others catch onto this quickly, especially Commander Urbosa.

“Time passes differently in the shrines,” Commander Urbosa says, arms crossed as she stares you down like a puzzle. “The magic is difficult to harness, and only the King knows how to handle it to a full extent. I suspect that’s why you ended up here. Even without air, the water continually heals, so it puts you in a stasis of sorts.”

The one thing you do manage to say is Ganondorf .

And the thing about the Gerudo is that they don’t sugarcoat the truth.

“Damn brat let himself be caught by the Yiga.” Queen Dramiria said sharply, making you draw back in alarm. But she merely pats you, crossing a long leg over the other as she leans back on her cushioned chair. “He’s never listened to reason, that boy.”

“Nabooru is already tracking them down, but they are tricky, hiding away in the mountains where we Gerudo have a hard time going. I am a bit surprised Ganondorf hasn’t just beaten a guard down and escaped.” Commander Urbosa stepped in, a bit kinder as she urged you to take a bite of the sweet-looking melon in a gold cup before you. You don’t want to eat, but tenderly you let yourself nibble the fruit.

 “He knew that they had started using that ancient, dangerous magic and he let his guard down.” The queen retorted, moving to her fruit bowl to polish off the decadent treat.

You put your head down, eyes closed as tears pricked at them. A hand came to rest on your knee, and you look up at the Queen, who looks very distraught. She has the same hook to her nose as Ganondorf and the same shade of red hair, and it makes the tears come quicker.

“Be kind, my queen. You forget that our new Queen-consort has been through much as of late.” Commander Urbosa advises softly.

“Oh no, don’t take my words too seriously,” Dramiria said, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Ganondorf always comes back from his adventures. And I have no doubt he is eager to have his bride back in his arms again.” He ends with a smile, and you do your best to stop sobbing but it just makes it worse. 

“F-Forgive me-” You say, turning back to the sand, shoulders sloped as you twisted the seal in your hands. “I… I would like some alone time, if p-p-possible.”

You don’t recognize yourself as you turn towards the bed in the healing room you had all been sitting in.

“Of course.” The Queen says, letting Urbosa help her up. “When you feel refreshed, just let the healer know. We’ll then give you a tour of your new rooms.”

You nod your head, shoulders shaking.

“Thank you, my queen, you are very generous.” She sighs, knowing she’s already told you to abandon such formal language but doesn’t press the matter. The thick red curtain swishes behind them as they leave, muffling their voices but not entirely concealing them.

“Ensure the Queen-Consort is settled into the King’s quarters swiftly. Knowing my son, he’d want her to feel comfortable as soon as possible. And I have a feeling that we’ll have a new little princess soon!”

You go red, head to toe.

What on earth would prompt that reaction? 

Your toes curl, trying to escape back into your body.

“Queen Dramiria!” Urbosa chides, voices further away. “Don’t go making our queen-consort feeling uncomfortable.”

“I know my son, Urbosa. If he’s managed not to make a fool of himself, then I ensure that we’ll be having a royal baby. Though the princess is quite small, she seems very strong-hearted, enough to please the gods of the shrines. I approve!”

You wondered what part of crying made you ‘strong-hearted’ but you supposed you shouldn’t complain. With one last look out to the sand you crawl back to the safety of your woven bed, and its many warm blankets, all woven with bright colors. It seemed to be very Gerudo to be in bright colors, though they didn’t help a pale complexion much.

Not that many Hylians had the skin tone that compliments it, you thought, brows furrowing. Do you think that Zelda would look nice in the rich blue though-

You blinked.

“Zelda?” You said, and the face peaked over the window again. She said your name, very softly in return, and clearly, great relief.

She glanced around before your cousin soars into the room. This is quickly explained as you hear a quick ‘hyah’, followed by another familiar face, this time jettisoning himself in.

“Link?”

Zelda launches herself at you, pulling you into a tight hug that reminds you of choking again, and you have to peel her off.

“I’m SO sorry!” She cried in a soft voice, clearly heartbroken, “I can’t believe Father let that evil man take you!”

“Oh Zelda,” You say brows pulling together. “What are you doing here? Link would be in a great deal of trouble if he was found.” 

“We’re here to save you!” She sniffs, holding you tighter. “I came as soon as I heard! I knew what everyone was saying was a lie!” You give a strained look, knowing that of course there were rumors, but irritated at them, nonetheless.

Link shrugs, giving a small look of sass before turning to a vase at the side of the room and looking at it. 

 You give a long sigh, and she pulls back.

“We are… aren’t we?” She looks into your face, gazing intently at your eyes, turning to glance at Link, who is intently staring at your hands. Her eyes fall to the crest in your hands as well.

“Married.” Link says, shortly, but meaningfully. He never did like expressing himself much with them.

You nod, softly.

“So…” Zelda pauses, throat thick, “You… left willingly.” You can see the hurt she has, the thought that you would so quickly leave without even giving her a goodbye.”

“It’s a long story.” You say quickly, “And I didn’t leave you willingly… But things have changed and I would not be welcomed back to Hyrule, even if you returned with me. But only if you’re willing to do a great favor for me.” You say, holding her arms.

Zelda nods, pulling your hands together as Link raises his brow.

“Yes, what is it?”

“I need help entering a cult.”

-X- To be continued -X-

[spacebarbarianweird]

My Tav (Tiriel) Headcanons

Ok, so people were asking to post things about Tiriel and her relationship with Astarion Tiriel is a half-elf barbarian with chaotic good alignment

TW: mentions of child abuse (Tiriel is a mess)

Masterlist

Headcanons

Early life

Tiriell is a result of an affair between her married mother and a random high elf she didn't even know the name of.

Tiriel's mother was ashamed for falling for "elven charms" and wanted to forget that night Still, a newborn girl with pointy ears was the evidence of her unfaithfulness.

Tiriel was never loved by her mother - once, the woman even tried to drown her in a river.

Human stepfather used every slur he knew referring to elves and never addressed Tiriel other than "this girl" or "fairy bastard."

As a half-elf, Tiriel was much more beautiful and attractive than other girls in the village, which resulted in direct bullying from women and lusty looks from men.

Tiriel learned how to protect herself by looking ugly. Dirty hair, rags for clothes, name it yourself.

It didn't save her from beatings. When she was 12, the drunk stepfather cut her ear. The village healer managed to stitch it back, but it left a thin scar.

When Tiriel was 15, her siblings cornered her at the cliff and chanting, "Kill the elf," pushed her to a certain death.

Tiriel woke up to a bear who was ready to attack her. At this moment, broken, wounded, and scared, she felt a fire within her chest.

Barbarian rage. Fury, nothing can compare to.

She killed the bear with her bare hands and returned to the village covered in dirt and blood and with a deep cut on her face.

Tiriel beat her stepfather to bloody snot and left the village to never return.

Before the game

Tiriel spent twenty years wandering around Faerun, looking for people and places to call her own.

She met Elves eventually but felt even more like a stranger than among humans.

She didn't know how to speak Elven and knew nothing about her father's kin except for the racial stereotypes she had been fed.

Not a human, not an elf. A stranger among everyone, with no home, no family, no friends.

She joined different adventurous groups, often taking the leading role, but she was left alone once the adventures were over.

Despite being a beautiful woman, Tiriel considered herself ugly (the result of abuse and harassment). She always wore her armor and was ready to attack any man who would look at her.

She never was in a relationship, never had sex, and had very few people she could at least partially trust

At age of 35, she decided to visit Baldur's Gate. She had a wild thought to live the Swords Coast on a ship.

Astarion

It was love at first sight. From the first attack, to be honest

Tiriel knew he was manipulative - it was not the first time she had seen men like this.

But she enjoyed his sweet words.

For the first time in her life, Tiriel didn't cringe at a man who was saying sexual and sweet things to her.

She liked how Astarion made her feel beautiful and desired.

Tiriel suddenly felt a desire to look beatiful.

The more she talked to Astarion, the more relaxed she felt.

She saw a shadow of her own troubles in his red eyes, and Astarion was taken aback by some of her comments (how could she know what he felt?)

Tiriel gifted Astarion a Sussur Dagger, she crafted in the villaged destroyed by goblins.

When Astarion offered her sex, she agreed. She wanted to finally experience what it felt like

The night of passion didn't disappoint her - though she understood Astarion didn't love her and probably wanted something from her.

She just felt grateful for what he did to her body.

As if he washed away the disgust she felt

When he admitted he wasn't honest, she simply joked, "Well, and I wanted to manipulate you into marriage, so what now?"

She never built any trusted relationship with other companions, spending all the time with Astarion. He needed her, and she needed him.

Blood was a small price for having a man in her arms every night.

Tiriel agreed to help him to ascend but made a mental note, "only over my dead body."

She managed to persuade Astarion to be a better person than he thought he was.

But preparing herself for a very long journey to make him fully heal.

Post-game

When Astarion started burning in the sunlight, Tiriel was absolutely mortified. It was the moment when she fully realized what being a vampire meant.

They left Baldur's Gate the next day - they both wanted to see the world and never return to this wretched city.

Trauma is ugly, and Tiriel has to be patient, helping Astarion to adjust to freedom.

The most challenging thing is to convince him that negative emotions could exist.

"Yes, I am angry with you. You hurt me, but it doesn't mean I want to leave you."

Nightmares are unbearable, especially since Tiriel needs her eight hours of sleep.

Sometimes, he thinks his back burns. Sometimes, he doesn't recognize Tiriel. At times, he is so miserable, she doesn't know what to do or what to say.

There are moments when he runs away, and she has no idea where he is, only to wake up by him crawling to her side of the bed in a week.

"Where have you been", she asks Astarion craddling him with her arms.

"Was trying to run from myself", he replies.

Tyrael never told him about her childhood, but she eventually did. Astarion was in horror - at least, he was abused as an adult.

But there are people, still alive, who abused a little girl Tyrael was

His Tiriel.

And he can't stop thinking about a crying redheaded girl who can't understand what she is punished for.

From that moment, Tiriel feels that something changed. Astarion started giving away rather than receiving.

He wants to take care of Tiriel. He wants her to feel loved and wanted, the same way she made him feel.

With years, there is less angst and trauma between them but a relatively mature relationship between two equal people who know the world's sorrows.

They never had any formal ceremony. One day, when Tiriel suffered an injury in a fight, Astarion brought her to a healer and casually said that his wife needed medical help.

Astarion makes sure Tiriel learns at least something about Elves and teaches her Sylvan Elven, his mother tongue.

And to their mutual surprise, Tiriel feels much more comfortable speaking Elven than Common. It is just…natural.

Astarion calls Tiriel"Salen Aester" ("my beloved")

They truly make each other better. Suddenly Astarion feels it is ok to help random people in trouble.

And Tiriel isn't ashamed of her body or her existence.

Settling In

Tiriel and Astarion travel for 15 years.

But eventually, Astarion starts craving stability.

He never knew a home or a family. He desires things people consider "common and boring".

He wants to have a place to call his own

Tiriel hesitates - "home" brings unpleasant memories.

But she agrees to sette at a city-state far away from the Swords Coast.

Suddenly, Astarion wants to do his "law" job again. There are so many idiots who make contracts with supernatural entities. They will pay a fortune to the person who will save them from their doom.

The city's council carefully avoid the fact that Astarion is a vampire. They know he is, but it's always like, "He is the most trusted person this city has ever known, but he suffers from a rare skin condition. Please, don't raise this issue, Astarion is very sensitive about. So is his wife."

Meanwhile, Tiriel does what she does best - protecting people with her two-handed axe.

Their house is comfortable and cozy. There is a library with books in a dozen languages and a garden.

And with small windows and thick curtains

And a basement with Astarion's necromantic and dark magic things.

Family

By the time Astarion and Tiriel settle in, there are, let's say, some tales about weird children with vampiric features, but no one thinks those stories are true.

Besides, it's been 15 years. If Tiriell and Astarion could conceive a child, it would already happen.

And half-elves aren't really fertile.

One day, Astarion notices Tiriel's scent is different: Not weird, not bad - just different.

And her blood tastes unusual.

First, Tiriel thinks she is sick and goes to the healer, who simply says, "Take this herb; they are useful for the baby, and don't waste my time."

It is not clear who is more scared, Astarion or Tiriel.

Tiriel had the worst mother the history knows. She has no idea how to raise the child.

Astarion's issues are well-known.

And the books about vampire children only add to their shared anxiety.

"Dhampirs' blood is undead; it poisons and kills their mothers. Dhampirs are monsters, dhampirs are hated outcasts"

Did Tiriel's mother feel the same, carrying the half-elven child?

But a half-elf is one thing. A dhampir, half-undead, is something else.

Astarion does everything to make Tiriel feel comfortable, but she knows he is worried sick.

It's like a regression toward the first year of their relationship when Astarion was a traumatized mess.

Nightmares are back, he snaps at her more ofthen than usual,

Suddenly, Tiriel has this enduring fear she is going to die during childbirth.

Or that she carries a real monster within her that won't resemble a humanoid at all.

During labor, Astarion refuses to leave Tiriel's side despite the midwife's attempt to kick him out.

Tiriel has been through a lot, but she has never endures so much pain.

"It's an Elven girl," the midwife says, placing a screaming bundle in Tiriel's hands.

The girl has pointy ears, not like Tiriel's, but like Astarion's. Elven ears, not half-elven.

Astarion refuses to take the daughter in his hands.

"She is so delicate, so small, I will harm her."

Tiriel finally places the daughter in his arms, and Astarion turns into a weeping mess, pressing the newborn to his chest.

"Alethaine," he suddenly says. "Can we name her Alethaine?"

Tiriel was so scared all her pregnancy that she never actually thought about the name.

Alethaine Ancunin returns to her mother and Astarion watches his wife breastfeeding their daughter.

"Thank you for giving her to me," Tiriel whispers, caressing Alethaine's ears.

Parents

Tiriel tries her best not to be like her own mother.

She is patient with Alethaine, and so is Astarion.

When she comes back home after fighting yet another monster or an enemy, there is a little girl rushing to her arms.

"Was it a dragon? Dad told you were going to fight a dragon! How big was it?"

Tiriel had a tiny hope Alethaine would be just an Elf, not a dhampir - vampires can have regular kids who don't inherit undead features.

But Alethaine's fangs grew earlier than the rest of her teeth - while she was young enough to be breastfed.

And Tiriel learned it in a painful way.

Tiriel finds comfort in brushing Alethaine's long hair. And the girl allows her to do that even as a teenager.

"Kitten," Tiriel calls her. Alethaine resembles a kitten the same way Astarion resembles a cat. And she bites when she is angry.

Alethaine is smart, inheriting her father's intelligence - she learned to read at four and prefers books to toys.

But Alethaine also learns about her differences at a young age, noticing how neighbor kids avoid her.

Tiriel recognizes her younger self in Alethaine. Stuck between two worlds, asking herself what the hell is wrong with her.

Despite being "daddy's daughter", Alethaine comes to her mother to cry and complain more and more often, confiding her with her fears and anxieties.

The older Alethaine becomes, the more solitary she turns, spending days alone with books.

Sometimes, when people see Tiriel with her daughter, they joke, "What sort of crypt did you find this child?"

"I carried her in my womb and gave birth to her. I'd advise you to shut up before I rage."

Alethaine grew fast, turning from a little baby to a beautiful woman whose hair was silver like moonlight, eyes dark as night, and posture resembles one of a predator.

At 19, she decides to go on her own adventure and find her place in this world.

Tiriel trains her to fight - of course, Alethaine is not her mother, and she cannot lift her two-handed axe. But Tiriel can ensure Alethaine can protect herself if she has to fight someone with such an axe.

Astarion gives Alethaine a dagger as a parting gift - the Sussur Dagger he got from Tiriel years ago.

"Dagger is the last argument in a fight, princess; always be ready to use it."

Two Again

After Alethaine leaves, Tiriel and Astarion are alone for the first time in years.

Tiriel suddenly realizes how much they both changed. In a good way

Astarion is no longer a traumatized mess. He won. The spawn, a slave, that miserable creature he was no longer exists. It is replaced by this handsome man who fears no supernatural entity with their contracts, no monster hunters, not himself. He even looks younger than he did forty years ago.

And she, Tiriel, isn't that scared girl who just wants to feel loved by someone; she has won many battles, and her body bears many scars (including stretches left from pregnancy).

Astarion is immortal, Alethaine will live for centuries - but Tiriel has only 150 years left of her half-elven existence before death takes her.

But she knows Astarion won't step into the sun once she dies. He will live for Alethaine. And he will make sure every bard and storyteller knows about Tiriel's heroic deeds.

She will be remembered long after her death. She will be loved and missed.

"Thank you for giving all this to me," she whispers to Astarion when they sit together, stargazing on the roof of their house.

Astarion doesn't answer anything. He wraps his hands around Tiriel's waist and nuzzles her collarbone.

"Salen Aester," he finally whispers in the silence of the night.

--

Ok, this is much longer than I thought. But I hope you enjoyed it! And I will make NSFW version soon.

In the meantime...

--

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

TWOW: Arianne I

On the morning that she left the Water Gardens, her father rose from his chair to kiss her on both cheeks. "The fate of Dorne goes with you, daughter," he said, as he pressed the parchment into her hand. "Go swiftly, go safely, be my eyes and ears and voice… but most of all, take care."

Probably the last time she sees her father.

+.+.+

Seven of them set out together on seven Dornish sand steeds. A small party travels more swiftly than a large one, but the heir to Dorne does not ride alone. From Godsgrace came Ser Daemon Sand, the bastard; once Prince Oberyn's squire, now Arianne's sworn shield. From Sunspear two bold young knights, Joss Hood and Garibald Shells, to lend their swords to his. From the Water Gardens seven ravens and a tall young lad to tend them. His name was Nate, but he had been working with the birds so long that no one called him anything but Feathers. And since a princess must have some women to attend her, her company also included pretty Jayne Ladybright and wild Elia Sand, a maid of ten-and-four.

Providing you some additional background information.

+.+.+

War is happening, thought Arianne, and this time Dorne will not be spared. "Doom and death are coming," Ellaria Sand had warned them, before she took her own leave from Prince Doran. "It is time for my little snakes to scatter, the better to survive the carnage." 

Truer words have never been spoken.

Great strategy too! While the circumstances were less than ideal, the Starklings being scattered all over Westeros is the only reason four of them managed to survive this long. Plot armour also helps.

+.+.+

Dayne was her most grievous sin, the one that Arianne most regretted. With one stroke of his sword, he had changed her botched plot into something foul and bloody. If the gods were good, by now Obara Sand had treed him in his mountain fastness and put an end to him.

Hmm, doubt that.

+.+.+

She said as much to Daemon Sand that first night, as they made camp. "Be careful what you pray for, princess," he replied. "Darkstar could put an end to Lady Obara just as easily." "She has Areo Hotah with her." Prince Doran's captain of guards had dispatched Ser Arys Oakheart with a single blow, though the Kingsguard were supposed to be the finest knights in all the realm. "No man can stand against Hotah."

Remember, that side quest is based on a Doran Martell lie. Therefore, there's no shot Darkstar, Areo Hotah, Balon Swann, and Obara Sand being in the Red Mountains together will go well.

+.+.+

Poison, thought Arianne. Yes. Pretty poison, though. That was how he'd fooled her. Gerold Dayne was hard and cruel, but so fair to look upon that the princess had not believed half the tales she'd heard of him. Pretty boys had ever been her weakness, particularly the ones who were dark and dangerous as well. That was before, when I was just a girl, she told herself. I am a woman now, my father's daughter. I have learned that lesson.

[...] The princess found herself riding beside Ser Daemon, remembering other rides when they were younger, rides that often ended in embraces. When she found herself stealing glances at him, tall and gallant in the saddle, Arianne reminded herself that she was heir to Dorne, and him no more than her shield.

When the author makes 24-year-old Arianne Martell indistinguishable from 13-year-old Sansa, and 15-year-old Daenerys.

+.+.+

"Tell me what you know of this Jon Connington," she commanded. "He's dead," said Daemon Sand. "He died in the Disputed Lands. Of drink, I've heard it said." "So a dead drunk leads this army?" "Perhaps this Jon Connington is a son of that one. Or just some clever sellsword who has taken on a dead man's name."

That's considered fAegon evidence.

+.+.+

"Or he never died at all." Could Connington have been pretending to be dead for all these years? That would require patience worthy of her father. The thought made Arianne uneasy. Treating with a man that subtle could be perilous.

Unfortunately for Jon Connington, terminal illness tends to rob you of your patience.

I do not have time enough for caution. - The Lost Lord, ADWD

x

It was not the prudent course, but he was tired of prudence, sick of secrets, weary of waiting. - The Lost Lord, ADWD

+.+.+

"What was he like before he… before he died?" "I was a boy at Godsgrace when he was sent into exile. I never knew the man." "Then tell me what you've heard of him from others." "As my princess commands. Connington was Lord of Griffin's Roost when Griffin's Roost was still a lordship worth the having. Prince Rhaegar's squire, or one of them. Later Prince Rhaegar's friend and companion. The Mad King named him Hand during Robert's Rebellion, but he was defeated at Stoney Sept in the Battle of the Bells, and Robert slipped away. King Aerys was wroth, and sent Connington into exile. There he died." "Or not." Prince Doran had told her all of that. There must be more. 

They're the same age, why does a bastard of Godsgrace know more about Jon Connington than the heir to Dorne?

How is her father just now telling her about Aerys' Hand, and the Battle of the Bells? She was the same age as Bran during the events of AGOT when the Rebellion was taking place.

+.+.+

"Those are just the things he did. I know all that. What sort of man was he? Honest and honorable, venal and grasping, proud?" "Proud, for a certainty. Even arrogant. A faithful friend to Rhaegar, but prickly with others. Robert was his liege, but I've heard it said that Connington chafed at serving such a lord. Even then, Robert was known to be fond of wine and whores." "No whores for Lord Jon, then?" "I could not say. Some men keep their whoring secret." "Did he have a wife? A paramour?" Ser Daemon shrugged. "Not that I have ever heard."

You're getting warmer.

+.+.+

That was troubling too. Ser Arys Oakheart had broken his vows for her, but it did not sound as if Jon Connington could be similarly swayed. Can I match such a man with words alone?

Lol.

Cersei Lannister attempting to seduce Stannis Baratheon.

vs.

Arianne Martell attempting to seduce Jon Connington.

Who wins?

+.+.+

To Prince Doran of House Martell, You will remember me, I pray. I knew your sister well, and was a leal servant of your good-brother. I grieve for them as you do. I did not die, no more than did your sister's son. To save his life we kept him hidden, but the time for hiding is done. A dragon has returned to Westeros to claim his birthright and seek vengeance for his father, and for the princess Elia, his mother. In her name I turn to Dorne. Do not forsake us. Jon Connington Lord of Griffin's Roost Hand of the True King

Arianne read the letter thrice, then rolled it up and tucked it back into her sleeve. 

Good, good, keep writing while you still can.

I knew your sister well, and was a leal servant of your good-brother. I grieve for them as you do.

↓↓↓

Elia was never worthy of him. She was frail and sickly from the first, and childbirth only left her weaker. - The Griffin Reborn, ADWD

+.+.+

A dragon has returned to Westeros, but not the dragon my father was expecting. Nowhere in the words was there a mention of Daenerys Stormborn… nor of Prince Quentyn, her brother, who had been sent to seek the dragon queen. The princess remembered how her father had pressed the onyx cyvasse piece into her palm, his voice hoarse and low as he confessed his plan. A long and perilous voyage, with an uncertain welcome at its end, he had said. He has gone to bring us back our heart's desire. Vengeance. Justice. Fire and blood.

And that's exactly what Dorne got.

+.+.+

In the Boneway and the Prince's Pass, two Dornish hosts had massed, and there they sat, sharpening their spears, polishing their armor, dicing, drinking, quarreling, their numbers dwindling by the day, waiting, waiting, waiting for the Prince of Dorne to loose them on the enemies of House Martell. Waiting for the dragons. For fire and blood. For me. One word from Arianne and those armies would march… so long as that word was dragon. If instead the word she sent was war, Lord Yronwood and Lord Fowler and their armies would remain in place. The Prince of Dorne was nothing if not subtle; here war meant wait.

The issue here is that not all the key players in Dorne are pursuing the same common objective, even though Doran Martell took the extra precaution of making them all pinky promise they'll behave.

"Tyene. Obara is too loud. Tyene is so sweet and gentle that no man will suspect her. Obara would make Oldtown our father's funeral pyre, but I am not so greedy. Four lives will suffice for me. Lord Tywin's golden twins, as payment for Elia's children. The old lion, for Elia herself. And last of all the little king, for my father." - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

x

"War," said Tyene, "though not my sister's war. Dornishmen fight best at home, so I say let us hone our spears and wait. When the Lannisters and the Tyrells come down on us, we shall bleed them in the passes and bury them beneath the blowing sands, as we have a hundred times before." - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

Doran's plan might be to hold or march, but Tyene and Nym's plan involved provoking the Lannisters, child murder, and armies descending upon Dorne.

And oops, Doran gave them the kid.

+.+.+

"Are you half horse, child?" Valena asked, laughing, in the yard. "Princess, did you bring a stable girl?" "I'm Elia," the girl announced. "Lady Lance." Whoever hung that name on her has much to answer for. Like as not it had been Prince Oberyn, though, and the Red Viper had never answered to anyone but himself. "The girl jouster," Valena said. "Yes, I've heard of you. Since you were the first to the yard, you've won the honor of watering and bridling the horses."

Elia, with a little bit of Lyanna mixed in.

+.+.+

"We have heard the same tales here that you have heard at Sunspear," Lady Nymella told them as her serving man poured the wine. "Sellswords landing on Cape Wrath, castles under siege or being taken, crops seized or burned. Where these men come from and who they are, no one is certain."

Is that the Golden Company burning food they don't seize?

Good luck in the future, you're going to need it.

+.+.+

"Pirates and adventurers, we heard at first," said Valena. "Then it was supposed to be the Golden Company. Now it's said to be Jon Connington, the Mad King's Hand, come back from the grave to reclaim his birthright. Whoever it is, Griffin's Roost has fallen to them. Rain House, Crow's Nest, Mistwood, even Greenstone on its island. All taken." [...] "Tarth has fallen too, some fisherfolk will tell you," said Valena. "These sellswords now hold most of Cape Wrath and half the Stepstones. We hear talk of elephants in the rainwood."

NOOOoooooo. Give it back!!

+.+.+

"And krakens off the Broken Arm, pulling under crippled galleys," said Valena. "The blood draws them to the surface, our maester claims. There are bodies in the water. A few have washed up on our shores. And that's not half of it. A new pirate king has set up on Torturer's Deep. The Lord of the Waters, he styles himself. This one has real warships, three-deckers, monstrous large. You were wise not to come by sea. Since the Redwyne fleet passed through the Stepstones, those waters are crawling with strange sails, all the way north to the Straights of Tarth and Shipbreaker's Bay. Myrmen, Volantenes, Lyseni, even reavers from the Iron Islands. Some have entered the Sea of Dorne to land men on the south shore of Cape Wrath. We found a good fast ship for you, as your father commanded, but even so… be careful."

Krakens!

Everyone say hello to Aurane Waters. I'll cover the rest below.

+.+.+

"Is Dorne at risk?" Lady Nymella asked. "I confess, each time I see a strange sail my heart leaps to my throat. What if these ships turn south? The best part of the Toland strength is with Lord Yronwood in the Boneway. Who will defend Ghost Hill if these strangers land upon our shores? Should I call my men home?" "Your men are needed where they are, my lady," Daemon Sand assured her. Arianne was quick to nod. Any other counsel could well lead to Lord Yronwood's host unravelling like an old tapestry as each man rushed home to defend his own lands against supposed enemies who might or might not ever come. "Once we know beyond a doubt whether these be friends or foes, my father will know what to do," the princess said.

Is Dorne at risk? Uh, yes.

"Doom and death are coming," Ellaria Sand had warned them

Please allow me to illustrate all the ways Dorne is fucked.

Map!

The red circle is where Lady Nymella sits, worried that she's badly exposed, and has nobody to protect her lands (valid fear).

The orange stars indicate the two great Dornish hosts, sitting in the Prince's Pass, and the Boneway.

Now, those two Dornish hosts are well positioned (heh, unless they "unravel") to take on the ever-resilient Cersei Lannister (who will probably have one less kid, thanks to Dorne).

However, if those hosts are preoccupied with an army descending down upon them, the rest of Dorne becomes extremely vulnerable. Didn't think that one through, did you Tyene?

Euron is in the west, travelling further and further along the coast, and I've just been informed by reliable sources that House Redwyne has no hope in hell of stopping him.

Daenerys, another vengeful queen Dorne will piss off, is coming from the east with her dragons, army, and fleet.

Notice how Dorne finds itself between Euron and Daenerys / Victarion? That ain't good.

Moving on, the purple stars are all the pirates, and slavers at the Stepstones and in the Sea of Dorne. We will continue to hear stories of them growing bolder, and landing on the shores of Westeros in Arianne's next chapter. Please pray for Lady Nymella.

That leaves the green arrows: the Greenblood, Dorne's most glaring weakness right now.

The mouth of the Greenblood lies in the Planky Town, which isn't currently being supported by any Dornish forces. Throughout history, there are multiple examples of the Planky Town being broken, and enemy forces driving up the Greenblood to defeat Dorne.

It's a historical fact that randomly gets inserted into a Jon chapter.

"Goat tracks?" The king's eyes narrowed. "I speak of moving swiftly, and you waste my time with goat tracks?"

"When the Young Dragon conquered Dorne, he used a goat track to bypass the Dornish watchtowers on the Boneway."

"I know that tale as well, but Daeron made too much of it in that vainglorious book of his. Ships won that war, not goat tracks. Oakenfist broke the Planky Town and swept halfway up the Greenblood whilst the main Dornish strength was engaged in the Prince's Pass." - Jon IV, ADWD

Kind of feels like with Dorne moving all its pieces to the Prince's Pass and Boneway, we're about to witness this play out all over again.

Do you see what happens when you play the game of thrones? Maybe I owe Lysa Arryn an apology.

One more thing,

"Once we know beyond a doubt whether these be friends or foes, my father will know what to do," the princess said.

That father who knows what to do? He's going to be dead.

+.+.+

It was then that pasty, pudgy Teora raised her eyes from the creamcakes on her plate. "It is dragons." "Dragons?" said her mother. "Teora, don't be mad." "I'm not. They're coming." "How could you possibly know that?" her sister asked, with a note of scorn in her voice. "One of your little dreams?" Teora gave a tiny nod, chin trembling. "They were dancing. In my dream. And everywhere the dragons danced the people died."

Is that like bad or something?

+.+.+

"I can attest to that." Ser Daemon took a sip of wine and said, "House Toland has a dragon on its banners." "A dragon eating its own tail, aye," Valena said. "From the days of Aegon's Conquest. He did not conquer here. Elsewhere he burned his foes, him and his sisters, but here we melted away before them, leaving only stone and sand for them to burn. And round and round the dragons went, snapping at their tails for want of any other food, till they were tied in knots."

So many interpretations of this sigil: the dragon is chasing its tail, the dragon is time ... no.

The dragon is eating itself, symbolizing House Targaryen.

+.+.+

"Our forebears played their part in that," Lady Nymella said proudly. "Bold deeds were done, and brave men died. All of it was written down by the maesters who served us. We have books, if my princess would like to know more." "Some other time, perhaps," said Arianne.

Well, that's the last thing you'd ever want to see.

George keeps emphasizing that Arianne Martell is Not A Reader.

During the daylight hours she would try to read, but the books that they had given her were deadly dull: ponderous old histories and geographies, annotated maps, a dry-as-dust study of the laws of Dorne, The Seven-Pointed Star and Lives of the High Septons, a huge tome about dragons that somehow made them about as interesting as newts. - The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

For the record, I don't care about this, but I am well aware of the author's stance on characters who have limited knowledge of history.

This is a book that Daenerys might actually benefit from reading, but she has no access to Archermaester Gyldayn’s crumbling manuscripts. So she's operating on her own there. Maybe if she understood a few things more about dragons and her own history in Essos, things would have gone a little differently. - Esquire, 2018

x

Martin is good at keeping secrets, but he does offer up one tidbit—a reminder that the royal Daenerys Targaryen was given the histories of her world as a wedding gift but neglected to read them. - Vulture, 2014

This is not a good parallel to share with Daenerys Targaryen.

Do I think it's a disaster and Arianne's as good as dead? No. Arya is Not A Reader. Asha is Not A Reader. They'll be fine, one of them might even run a kingdom by the end of this.

Still, at the very least it probably means Arianne Martell is poised to make more mistakes.

+.+.+

The Bastard of Godsgrace was one of Dorne's finest swords as well, as might be expected from one who had been Prince Oberyn's squire and had received his knighthood from the Red Viper himself. Some said that he had been her uncle's lover too, though seldom to his face. Arianne did not know the truth of that. He had been her lover, though. At fourteen she had given him her maidenhead. Daemon had not been much older, so their couplings had been as clumsy as they were ardent. Still, it had been sweet. Arianne gave him her most seductive smile. "We might share a bed together." Ser Daemon's face was stone. "Have you forgotten, princess? I am bastard born." He took her hand in his. "If I am unworthy of this hand, how can I be worthy of your cunt?"

Lol.

Arianne reminded herself that she was heir to Dorne, and him no more than her shield.

+.+.+

"What I will you will not, it seems. So be it. Talk with me instead. Could this truly be Prince Aegon?" "Gregor Clegane ripped Aegon out of Elia's arms and smashed his head against a wall," Ser Daemon said. "If Lord Connington's prince has a crushed skull, I will believe that Aegon Targaryen has returned from the grave. Elsewise, no. This is some feigned boy, no more. A sellsword's ploy to win support."

My father fears the same.

Daemon Sand comes across as a highly logical and rational thinker. I'm not sure what I'll think if he continues to not believe it's Aegon.

+.+.+

So it was. "I was seven when Elia died. They say I held her daughter Rhaenys once, when I was too young to remember. Aegon will be a stranger to me, whether true or false." The princess paused. "We looked for Rhaegar's sister, not his son." Her father had confided in Ser Daemon when he chose him as his daughter's shield; with him at least she could speak freely. "I would sooner it were Quentyn who'd returned." "Or so you say," said Daemon Sand. "Good night, princess." He bowed to her, and left her standing there. What did he mean by that? Arianne watched him walk away. What sort of sister would I be, if I did not want my brother back? It was true, she had resented Quentyn for all those years that she had thought their father meant to name him as his heir in place of her, but that had turned out to be just a misunderstanding. She was the heir to Dorne, she had her father's word on that. Quentyn would have his dragon queen, Daenerys.

You good, Arianne?

+.+.+

In Sunspear hung a portrait of the Princess Daenerys who had come to Dorne to marry one of Arianne's forebears. In her younger days Arianne had spent hours gazing at it, back when she was just a pudgy flat-chested girl on the cusp of maidenhood who prayed every night for the gods to make her pretty. A hundred years ago, Daenerys Targaryen came to Dorne to make a peace. Now another comes to make a war, and my brother will be her king and consort. King Quentyn. Why did that sound so silly?

She's coming alright.

I don't blame her for thinking it sounds silly, but I can't lie, she's making me a little uncomfortable right now.

+.+.+

Almost as silly as Quentyn riding on a dragon. Her brother was an earnest boy, well-behaved and dutiful, but dull. And plain, so plain. The gods had given Arianne the beauty she had prayed for, but Quentyn must have prayed for something else. His head was overlarge and sort of square, his hair the color of dried mud. His shoulders slumped as well, and he was too thick about the middle. He looks too much like Father.

Maybe he valued other things, Arianne.

What would a maid that age want with her dull, bookish brother? - Arianne II, TWOW

+.+.+

"I love my brother," said Arianne, though only the moon could hear her. Though if truth be told, she scarcely knew him. Quentyn had been fostered by Lord Anders of House Yronwood, the Bloodroyal, the son of Lord Ormond Yronwood and grandson of Lord Edgar. In his youth her uncle Oberyn had fought a duel with Edgar, had given him a wound that mortified and killed him. Afterward men called him 'the Red Viper,' and spoke of poison on his blade. The Yronwoods were an ancient house, proud and powerful. Before the coming of the Rhoynar they had been kings over half of Dorne, with domains that dwarfed those of House Martell. Blood feud and rebellion would surely have followed Lord Edgar's death, had not her father acted at once. The Red Viper went to Oldtown, thence across to the narrow sea to Lys, though none dared call it exile. And in due time, Quentyn was given to Lord Anders to foster as a sign of trust. That helped to heal the breach between Sunspear and the Yronwoods, but it had opened new ones between Quentyn and the Sand Snakes… and Arianne had always been closer to her cousins than to her distant brother.

They were kids when this happened, but it's still wild to resent Quentyn for any of this. He was also cut off from his father.

+.+.+

"We are still the same blood, though," she whispered. "Of course I want my brother home. I do." The wind off the sea was raising gooseprickles all up and down her arms. Arianne pulled her cloak about herself, and went off to seek her bed.

Are you alright?

+.+.+

Arianne played a game of cyvasse with Ser Daemon, and another one with Garibald Shells, and somehow managed to lose both. Ser Garibald was kind enough to say that she played a gallant game, but Daemon mocked her. "You have other pieces beside the dragon, princess. Try moving them sometime."

This is like reading a Catelyn chapter from A Storm of Swords.

+.+.+

"I like the dragon." She wanted to slap the smile off his face. Or kiss it off, perhaps. The man was as smug as he was comely. Of all the knights in Dorne, why did my father chose this one to be my shield? He knows our history.

Did she answer her own question? Bwahaha.

+.+.+

The secret pact that Prince Doran had made all those years called for Arianne to be wed to Prince Viserys, not Quentyn to Daenerys. It had all come undone on the Dothraki sea, when he was murdered. Crowned with a pot of molten gold. "He was killed by a Dothraki khal," said Arianne. "The dragon queen's own husband." "So I've heard. What of it?" "Just… why did Daenerys let it happen? Viserys was her brother. All that remained of her own blood." "The Dothraki are a savage folk. Who can know why they kill? Perhaps Viserys wiped his arse with the wrong hand." Perhaps, thought Arianne, or perhaps Daenerys realized that once her brother was crowned and wed to me, she would be doomed to spend the rest of her life sleeping in a tent and smelling like a horse. "She is the Mad King's daughter," the princess said. "How do we do know —" "We cannot know," Ser Daemon said. "We can only hope."

Are you projecting?

There's no getting around the fact that Arianne is bothered by the idea of her brother being king, despite it not interfering with her inheriting Dorne.

Sadly, these thoughts are going to continue in her next chapter.

King Quentyn. It still sounded silly. This new Daenerys Targaryen was younger than Arianne by half a dozen years. What would a maid that age want with her dull, bookish brother? Young girls dreamed of dashing knights with wicked smiles, not solemn boys who always did their duty. She will want Dorne, though. If she hopes to sit the Iron Throne, she must have Sunspear. If Quentyn was the price for that, this dragon queen would pay it. What if she was at Griffin’s End with Connington, and all this about another Targaryen was just some sort of subtle ruse? Her brother could well be with her. King Quentyn. Will I need to kneel to him? - Arianne II, TWOW

It's another bad parallel to share with Daenerys Targaryen.

"What … what if it were not Viserys?" she asked. "If it were someone else who led them? Someone stronger? Could the Dothraki truly conquer the Seven Kingdoms?" - Daenerys IV, AGOT

x

She wondered if all men were as false in the Seven Kingdoms. When her son sat the Iron Throne, she would see that he had bloodriders of his own to protect him against treachery in his Kingsguard. - Daenerys IV, AGOT

x

Dany had not known, had not even suspected. "Then … he should have them. He does not need to steal them. He had only to ask. He is my brother … and my true king." - Daenerys V, AGOT

Let's hope these thoughts only exist to amplify the remorse and guilt she'll feel after she learns he's dead, and nothing more.

In other news, it appears that a developing rivalry between Daenerys and Arianne is taking form.

Is that you, Arianne Martell?

Final thoughts:

Doran's going to die, Oberyn's dead, Quentyn's dead, half the Sand Snakes are massive liabilities, Areo Hotah is a mute, and Arianne doesn't read books.

Where's Sarella? Maybe we let Ellaria run the kingdom for a bit.

Next chapter: Mercy (Arya)

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[lucyvaleheart]

hey lulu~

tell me about your swords?

hhhhhh oh my god- um. um. h-hi.... I. I see you saw my tags about, ah.... T-that nickname......

... Um. S-swords!! Yes!! I. I have many. I have so many swords. Oh this is gonna be a long post I can feel it in my bones let me slap a readmore on this.

............hhhhh g-goddess above that nickname- um. a-anyway.

Swords!! I have a bunch of them, though most of them are display pieces- the ones that aren't are made of either wood or a super durable plastic polymer thingy and are mostly training swords!!

Sadly I do not really have the budget or energy level to have and care for a proper real, actual metal combat sword... Maybe one day!! But for now-

My best of the best!! This is my longsword, or bastard sword, or hand and a half sword!! What name you use depends on the grip you weild it with- both hands on the hilt proper is a longsword grip, and you get more power from your swings at the cost of control and speed!

Putting your non-dominant hand on the pommel (that little flange at the very top in the picture) is hand and a half grip, interchangeable with bastard sword grip, and you sacrifice some power for significantly better control over your swings and much faster movements!

This baby is made of that plastic polymer I mentioned, and it's durable enough to very easily shatter concrete without taking a scratch. Frankly I bet it could beat back a proper metal sword and only take some nicks, though a true master would be able to cut through it easily im sure... But the average layman with just your standard training and experience would have a lot of trouble pulling that off especially in the heat of combat, so it can very easily double as a "shield" (though you'd definitely be better off with a buckler and shortsword if that's how you fight)

Next up- some display pieces!!

I really need to do a proper inventory of my armory and get quality photos of each individual piece.... But anyway!

In order, that's the buster sword (from final fantasy), ichigo's bankai (from bleach, don't @ me if I got that name wrong I can't remember what the swords are called at which stages it's been years since I watched it), and the Tetsaiga (from inuyasha)!

(.... Don't @ me if I spelled Tetsaiga wrong too I'm doin my best)

The buster sword was my first ever sword I got with my own money- from a renn fair almost fuckin... 20 years ago now jesus. I didn't know it was a buster sword at the time, I just saw "ooo sword bigger than I am I want it" and bought it! Painted it myself.

The handle snapped off at some point and I found a friend's blowdart tube, he said he didn't want it, so I snapped that in half and shoved it into the slot where the swords handle used to be. Wrapped it in a ton of tape, spray painted it black, I think glue got put in at some stage, and bam, you can barely tell it ever broke! hehe

(yes you can but to be fair I was 15 when I fixed it. Was like 7 when I bought it. Or something.)

The bankai there is much newer, got it at a convention in 2020 about a month before the pandemic started; it's made of mostly particle board and kinda feels a little flimsy in places but it's REALLY sturdy when wielded and the paint work on it is phenomenal!! I need to get it some kind of hook to hang out on the wall with.... Same with a lot of these, hehe~

The Tetsaiga is similar to the buster sword- I got it at the same renn fair, though about 5 or 6 years later (before the buster sword broke) and it came fully painted like that <3 it's a REAL hunk of fuckin wood, not meant for combat but against another wooden weapon it'll hold it's own. I don't think you can tell in that picture but there's a ton of bumps and bruises on the edge of it from where I've swung it against other swords 👀 thing is fuckin.... HEAVY

(... Just like in canon! :3)

This is another display sword- foam, chainsaw blade, from Warhammer 40k! Got it on Amazon for like 30-40 bucks!

And let me tell you, this thing.... FUCKS.

This is like. The most well balanced sword in my entire collection somehow, it's sturdy as hell for a foam weapon, even with those little chainsaw protrusions; and my god does it feel good to swing. The plastic encasing the foam or whatever the material is (some kind of hardened paint? I'm not sure) is amazing, it's held up for years and years of abuse and mistreatment and my god I don't know how this thing is so good. For so fucking cheap? I feel like I ripped somebody off. I probably did. But goddamn is this sword cool as fuck.

Double picture feature here; this is my best wooden practice sword. By far one of the sturdiest things I own, only outclassed by the concrete breaker at the top, the full-body picture was taken before I put that sticker on it. Sorry I know it's a video I have a gif somewhere but I forgot to categorize it in my weapons album-

Anyway!! This thing is my most used, cuz it's sturdy enough for real combat but light enough that I can use it against most other wooden weapons without damaging either it or the other one; and it can be used by and against those with a little less upper body strength than me (not a dig at anyone, I'm fucking... Really really strong. Like almost too strong. And the concrete breaker is fucking heavy pfff)

I got it at, again, that same Renaissance fair, from a shop who's name I can't remember but will try to find later! Their claim to fame is that their wooden weapons will never break against another wooden weapon. And let me tell you, I fucking believe it.

Another from that same renn fair, same wooden weapon shop! A war pick! It's so fucking satisfying to hold and swing, so nicely balanced and feels so wonderfully intimidating. I really hope that shop has a spot in the Minnesota fair cuz I moved and I really want more of their stuff. This one doesn't get much use sadly, by its nature its hard to use in sparring against someone without a shield or who's any level of inexperienced...

I think I'm running out of images so I'll try and do some group ones-

This is I think my favorite picture of my swords to date, I fucking loved that rack I wish it didn't break (it was really cheap) but it was so worth it while I had it.

On the top is a metal keyblade- really unwieldy honestly but cool as fuck on display; you'd realistically be better off swingin a crowbar at someone at that point and at least it wouldn't have the weird spinning handle guard but then where's your fuckin flair? Your audacity? The GAY ASS CHARISMA?? It's a poor replica of.... Uh.... Fuck, I can never remember the name, oath breaker? Maybe. Someone will know. @catgirlarson was the first person to ever name it correctly instantly and that includes me.

Below it is another concrete breaker plastic polymer- though it's not nearly as thick and bulky as the longsword, it's a much lighter one so while it won't take a scratch from being struck against concrete you'd have to put some serious force and get just the right angles to actually break any hehe

Below THAT is another, same material, little less light- it's a scimitar of the stuff, bit easier to break concrete with but light enough to be used in sparring against, say, the katana from the earlier picture! That one I really like for easy home defense, it's my metal baseball bat beside my bed; real light real sturdy really intimidating to see a giant naked woman rushing you with a fucking sword swinging fast as shit :3 I can be very scary, hehe~

4th down is wood, painted black- it's a proper practice sword for kendo, matched with that bamboo one on the bottom (though it's heavier than the bamboo and thus a little harder to get control with)

The bamboo one is really really fucking good for beginners, light and easy and really fucking satisfying to hit with, makes a nice whap sound without actually causing much real damage unless you're really trying to hurt someone

Between the two are 3 foam swords, two display one combat-the green one is just a nerf sword but it feels really good in the hands and its nice and light and fits well on the rack

The silver one is an Excalibur replica from Fate- so is the bigger one beside it, and while I gave away the smaller one in the rack, i still have that big one to this day! It was a gift from my ex, @applebottom-aobooty - he got it for my birthday I think and it's still top 3 of my favorite swords. The tip of it came off but it's a clean break and I just have to glue it back on 😭 I can fix it I swear!! A little gorilla glue or superglue!! I obsessively make sure that tip doesn't get lost so I can eventually glue it back on, I just need to find time....

Anyway!!

That last display foam one, the black one, is obviously the Elucidator from Sword Art Online! The show is fine. It's not the best in the world but it's very enjoyable and I like it plenty. I ain't here for discourse I'm here for cool fuckin swords and SWORD ART online has some cool fuckin swords. Its also super super sturdy. Really nice to swing and very lovely.

.... Gonna give a few honorable mentions before I leave off this post here-

Rainbow metal energy sword from halo, rainbow metal brass knuckles, and hand tooled leather gauntlets feat. @applebottom-aobooty 's cat Captain jack.

The energy sword is horrible for actual use but FUCK it looks so cool!! I need to hang it....

Brass knuckles- not a sword, technically, but I carried those all the time. I still have em. They're so fucking nice. Fit real well and could do some SERIOUS damage.

The gauntlets also not a sword, but fuck they're so nice and make for amazing guards. Expensive as hell, 300$, same renn fair, but I love them so dearly.

................ty for reading. whoever you are getting to this point I love you and also specifically Cara ty for asking about my swords >//////<

[lemonhemlock]

what do you think about lyanna stark?

Short answer is that I roll my eyes like Cersei, as in "not this fucking girl again".

Long answer is that I can't get a proper feel on Lyanna as a character because we are missing vital information about her. I am SO curious about a lot of things that happened surrounding her, but as far as her personality is concerned I'm kind of .... whelmed? Not over-, not under-... she is just there, IDK. On the one hand, I get the Mary Sue vibes that make me want to roll my eyes as above, but, on the other hand, I know I'm being a little mean and her story is more complex than that.

She is the third child out of four. 14/15-year-old Lyanna has received enough training that she is able to scare off the three squires who were bullying Howland Reed and defeat them in a tourney under disguise (seriously? I am internally groaning just typing that out). She is so kind-hearted that she takes him in, knows how to take care of his wounds, is lively and spirited that she can withstand her brothers teasing her no problem, is moved by poetry enough that she cries at Rhaegar's sad song and is so beautiful and impressive that she catches the prince's eye and he becomes fixated on her.

Robert also has a life-long obsession with her, although, realistically-speaking, he must have seen her how many times in his life? She was so young during all of this, half a child herself. There's a creepy element to all of this. Despite her young age, the text makes a point in telling us how perceptive Lyanna was, since she did not consider Robert good husband material because of his philandering ways (she somehow already knows about his bastard daughter in the Vale). In some such way, she is more attuned to this than Ned, who was both older and knew Robert better.

But then there are so many questions that arise. Her problem was Robert's cheating, yet she "falls in love" and "runs away" with Rhaegar, a married man? How much of a willing participant was she in all this story? How much of Rhaegar's plans and knowledge of prophecy did he impart on her? In the TV adaptation, they show them getting married, but even so, that is a bullshit wedding since polygamy is outlawed in Westeros. How could such a ceremony be considered legal in these conditions? How could Jon not be a bastard? What freaking sellout Septon did Rhaegar conjure up in order to perform this? She is a Helen of Troy figure and her story with Rhaegar is often presented as a romance, but at a deeper glance, her relationship with him becomes very shady.

Ned is deeply traumatized by what happened to his sister, naturally, and regardless of her level of complicity, her story is a tragedy. Her father and her brother die horrific deaths trying to get her back, her other brother is in life-threatening danger because of the war her baby daddy / potential rapist started. She dies giving birth to Jon - the details are very blurry, it's hard to say whether she dies because she was too young to give birth or because she had other birth complications that could have occurred at any age or because she didn't receive proper medical care since she was so isolated. Did she even have a maester with her? Midwives? Staff? Ned's fever dreams make it seem like she was just with those three Kingsguard dudes. How did Rhaegar even convince these people, who are supposed to be honourable knights, to help him abscond with Lyanna and then keep her own brother from seeing her ON HER DEATHBED? Lord Commander Gerold Hightower, THE Sword of the Morning Arthur Dayne, whom Jaime idolizes - what happened here? How much of this information did Lyanna even have access to? Did she know what was happening with the war, with her family? I doubt she would have been okay with any of that.

[mareenavee]

The World on Our Shoulders | Chapter 15: Of All the Sujamma Joints in All the Towns on All of Nirn, She Walks Into Mine

6th of Morning Star 4E 202

“You should consider joining the Redoran guard, Sero,” Captain Veleth said for the four hundredth time. Teldryn sighed and wiped dragon guts off his sword with a scrap of rich brown fabric he’d found in the ash. Might have been another scarf, once. He wondered who’d worn it, but it would be impossible to tell, especially if the dragon had been feasting on the bounty of Reavers out here in the wastes.

“No, no. I make more money as a mercenary. I said this before,” he answered, sounding bored. “Besides, I’m not even House Redoran, as you well know.”

“Suit yourself on both counts. Can’t be making much sitting and staring at the door of the Netch waiting for some rich patron to drop in, not these days,” Veleth said with a shrug. “There’ll be work for you with us, especially if more of these bastards make their way over.” He nodded over his bonemold pauldron. “Though I doubt they’ll already be half-dead the next time, whatever this was about.” Teldryn scowled, but Veleth wouldn’t have seen it under his scarf. Half-dead or not, it didn’t make the fight any less difficult. It was a Godsdamned dragon, after all. Even as dire as its situation was, the thing almost gutted the greener new hires who got too close to its maw, like a bunch of s’wiit.

“I was drunk for most – if not all – of Last Seed,” he drawled. Veleth rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I hadn’t imagined that bunch of Nordic hogwash about these monsters when word about Helgen came over with Gjalund.” He glared over at the corpse of the dragon, blue-scaled skin already thrice-flayed along its side as if it had gotten into a fight with another dragon. The wound looked like it had been made by unfathomably enormous claws, anyhow. He wondered if it had fought the Dragonborn of legend before fleeing here to Solstheim – though, unless the mysterious warrior was some unholy weredragon, it looked like this one had simply lost a territory dispute. Were they really just like other beasts, these colossal, mythical things? He hadn’t heard a single thing about them except in extravagant tales, and at that, only back in Windhelm.

“Well, not everything the Nords say is worthless, anyway,” Veleth said. He tossed a bag of gold over. It would be only a fraction of the fee Teldryn normally charged, he knew, but such was the way of things these days in Raven Rock. The town was pretty much dead and money was hard to come by. He wouldn’t give Veleth the satisfaction of being right about his employment situation, though. He could complain to Geldis about that over some much needed Sujamma.

“Did you happen to requisition Neloth’s silt strider for the return trip, too?” Teldryn asked, already pessimistic. He didn’t want to trudge back through the wastes on foot overnight. It was midwinter and the winds off the ocean were enough to kill a man who stayed still for too long.

“Do I look like I want my guts instantly repositioned to the outside of my body?” Veleth asked sarcastically. Teldryn didn’t grace his ridiculous statement with an answer. Veleth cleared his throat. “The answer is no. We were just lucky the traders weren’t going to tell him about our trip out of town.”

“He doesn’t do necromancy anymore, you know,” Teldryn said pointedly. “If he did eviscerate you with a spell, you wouldn’t be around to complain about it.” He cracked his back and groaned. “Meanwhile, the rest of us will have to tough it out across all this ash.”

“You’re young,” Veleth said. “You’ll survive.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say,” Teldryn sneered. He waved his hand dismissively.

With that, the Captain of the Redoran Guard fell back in line with his men, and left Teldryn to his own devices. The guards still had a search to complete out here. There had been no trace of the tailor who, like a fool, had decided to cross to Tel Mithryn by himself instead of waiting for a caravan. If the ash spawn didn’t get him, the dragon certainly did. They could search all night if they’d like. It was a hopeless task. Had he known the man was going out that way, Teldryn would probably have escorted the man at a cut rate just for the excuse to bother Neloth in his garish mushroom lair. He resigned to hike back to town. With his luck, he’d probably already missed a new potential patron. -> Read the rest on AO3

[dlamp-dictator]

A Few Story Ideas Allen’s Had

Now that summer is here I only have about 3-ish things on my plate for the next few months aside from work I’ve been thinking about getting back into some creative writing, namely finally setting some time aside to work on some stories I had in the works a few years ago. I know I only have enough energy for one of these stories, but I don’t know which one I want to put my effort toward.

So... I’m just gonna’ jot down the basic gist of the main stories here.

This isn’t really a poll/open discussion sort of thing where I’m asking my following what story I should write. It’s more of me just publishing/organizing my thoughts and posting them to have a sort of public record of what I said and thought at the time while I work out my ideas. Feel free to shoot me an ask and generally engage, just know I’m writing this mostly for me and me only.

With that said, here’s a quick disclaimer.

All of these ideas I either have a full outline or a draft of the first five-ish chapters. Nothing here is completely half baked.

Yes, all of these kind of follow the main theme of “protagonist lives in an imperfect world and works around it rather than actively fixes it.” You’ll find that out pretty quick and I might as well mention it upfront here and now.

Yes, all the protagonists are some variation of “fighter girl.” I also feel the need to say that upfront here and now. I... just like punch girls, kick girls, and sword girls.

And with that out of the way, here’s the handful of topics I’ve got.

Kung Fu Girls Story

This is a real old story I haven’t picked up in years, but the original draft is still in my dropbox. The original premise is that two students of a martial arts academy in rivaling dorms/sororities have caused so much trouble with their frequent brawls that the school sticks them in the delinquent dorm in form them to get along with each other. However, not only do the two hate each other, but their fall from grace makes them targets of several students both in and out of their new dorm.

The main idea with this story is to explore people of different backgrounds coming together and learning to deal with each other. Not so much befriend as much as understand that sometimes you just... can’t be friends with some people due to various reasons, but you can at least tolerate them for a similar goal.

This story has been in my drafts for years and I think the main reason I stopped writing it is because the main characters are pretty young, around 12-15, and I don’t feel too comfortable writing from that perspective nowadays. I might pull some writing trick to keep their ages a bit ambiguous, but... eh, I don’t feel comfy doing that, and I equally feel like aging them up to my comfort-level might make their more childish behavior and even their general situation of bratty kids in the detention center not stick as well.

If I work on this one I’ll probably be tweaking the hell out of a lot characters, namely the personalities and side cast so it doesn’t feel as icky to write.

Mafia Girl Story

This is second most likely story to get focused on at the moment. The premise is a little complicated thought. A mafia boss is about to retire and decided to hand off his criminal empire to one of his children, provided they can either make the others agree with the decision or wack off the naysayers and be the only figure left for succession. The main character in this story is a young woman who is the bastard daughter of said mafia boss, already leaving the family years ago and wanting nothing to do with the succession wars until her half-siblings try to take her out in an attempt to eliminate a potential threat. This makes the main character annoyed enough to join the fray to not takeover, but destroy the mafia with her own two hands and finally be free of it.

Oh yeah, and she also has lightning powers. Didn’t know where to mention that, but she has lightning powers.

For this story, the main theme is about living in an imperfect world and what to do about it. I don’t want to spoil how I want to end this, but the main character will slowly realize just how massive a task destroying the mafia is and will have to make some stuff decisions about how she wants to go about it.

This is a story I have an honest interest in working on, but... this is also the one that’s got the most moving parts with mafia stuff, strategies, and having to write a mildly intelligent protagonist that understands a lot of how crime and business works in a way where I’d have to do some major research. Research I don’t know if I’d really want to commit to after a while.

Samurai Girl Story

Okay, this is the latest story I have and is more or less completely outlined. This one is about a young samurai/noblewoman that returns home to her family after a year of isolated training and meditation only to find herself pulled into a political scandal and her family threatened with treason unless she goes to what I’ll call “Prison Island” and assassinates the political rivals of the current government pushing for a rebellion/independence. And while the main character wants to save her family she also realizes that the political figures she has to assassinate have a good point to try and pull away from the government’s yoke. However, there are some snags, as along with holding her family hostage the main character knows that the island faction isn’t free of corruption either and while living in a more peaceful/less aggressive regime is nice it’d come at the cost of her family and fiefdom being prey to the ruling government.

So, this ones a bit more of a political action story, and despite me calling is a “samurai girl story” it’s more of a story with a feudal Japanese aesthetic to it. A lot of the draft has me being very careful with the terminology I use.

This is probably the story I have the strongest drive for, but... my hesitation comes from how political I plan on making it. In a nutshell it’s basically about an upper-middleclass woman learning how ignorant and privileged her life was before seeing just how large of a system she was in and how bad it was as she figures out what to do with that knowledge. She wants to do good, but most of her options don’t feel good and whatever choice she makes will have clear consequences for someone of her position. These are the kinds of themes I love exploring in general, how to deal with a bad situation and what are you willing to accept at the end of the day, figuring out what, to you, are truly the lesser of two evils.

And again, this one has a full outline, more or less, and despite the serious way I describe the plot a lot of the characters are more funny and zany than overly dour.

Vignette Stories

The following list are more vignette-style stories with an overarching plot. Think slice-of-life with some action thrown in. None of these have the drafts or outlines of the previous three story ideas, but they’d be nice cooldown sessions that I don’t have to think too much about.

A group of not-wood-elves going about their lives in their village with the overarching plot of a brewing civil war among the elders and their factions.

An MMA gym and their members training for several events and promotions with the overarching plot of a handful of characters making their professional debut

A group of gladiators in a world wear gladiatorial combat has been reworked into a more combat flavor with the various fighters dealing with sponsors, scandals, and other stuff.

And those are all the story ideas I have. Let me know if there’s something you’re interested in seeing me actively work on or just have questions and wanna’ pick my brain a bit. Ideally I’ll start getting to work on my next day off, but... eh, who knows. Like I said, summer’s going to be a busy time for Allen.

[whoree321]

the bad batch + what romance/rom com movies they watch with you

each of the bad batch x gn!reader

ok first and foremost i really truly believe to the pits of my soul that every single one of these fuckos loves romances and you cannot under any circumstances change my mind

ALSO it’s a gender neutral reader except kinda in echo’s theres like a very brief quote regarding breasts but like i still think even that is pretty gender neutral tbh

so anyway

Hunter: Pretty Woman

this is not the first time that i have publicly declared that i think hunter has a deep rooted connection to the movie pretty woman and it will not be the last

first of all this movie is incredibly soothing to hunters overwhelming savior complex

second of all hunter is literally richard gere (debonaire but emotionally distant gentleman that learns to love) and julia roberts (hooker with a heart of gold) at the same time

he was a little skeptical the first time you put it on but he instantly fell in love with it

the humor, the sensuality, the class divide, the glamour, the unconventional cinderella story of it all. it just really butters his bread

after the first time, when you suggest watching a movie and you pick this one he’ll act very aloof about it (“whatever you want cyar’ika, it doesn’t matter to me”) but secretly he’s really really happy bc it’s one of his favorites (you def know this and def pick it more often)

he absolutely hates the scene when stucky the lawyer hits vivian. like it doesn’t matter how many times he watches it he will fully turn his head away from the screen and say “I don’t like this part” and when it’s over he nuzzles a little closer into you and very tenderly kisses your forehead

he loves the soundtrack too. like he fully exposes how much he likes the movie when you catch him singing or humming “pretty woman” or “it must have been love” absently to himself (you kept it to yourself for a while but eventually you just had to tease him about it. he just smiled a little sheepishly and admitted he liked the songs before promptly changing the subject)

hunter also lowkey definitely wants to recreate the ending where richard gere shows up to her apartment in the white limo with you bc he thinks it’s such a sweet gesture and he wants to treat you like royalty

Crosshair: 10 Things I Hate About You

if there’s one thing about crosshair it’s that he’s a sucker for the enemies to lovers genre

maybe its just him projecting (spoiler alert it most certainly is) but he really enjoys watching the drama conflama of a miserable bastard be tricked into love

and really that’s the true essence of 10 Things I Hate About You

he will grumble and bitch and moan about not wanting to watch a ‘chick flick’ when you put it on, but 15 minutes in and he’s hooked

he has strong negative opinions on literally every single character except for kat and patrick

(crosshair really really wants to think he’s patrick but when it comes down to it he is katarina stratford in every single possible way)

he doesn’t say a word throughout the entire movie but you can tell when he’s annoyed at like bianca or cameron or joey bc he will openly scoff at them

will absolutely hum along in your ear during the “can’t take my eyes off you” scene and make out with you during the paintball scene

(seriously he wants to be patrick verona so bad)

when it’s over and you ask him what he thought he’ll roll his eyes and say “i guess it could have been worse” but his little smirk let’s you know he enjoyed it a lot more than he’s willing to admit

Tech: 50 Shades of Grey

ok hear me out on this one

tech is a huge movie talker. like subtitles are a non-negotiable if you wanna be able to take in any of the movies dialogue bc tech is most likely gonna make commentary over it the whole time

this makes him absolutely indescribably so much fun to watch bad/corny movies with

he will go off about EVERYTHING. the plot, the dialogue, the acting, the costuming, the music, the production quality. nothing and no one is safe. whether you just enjoy letting him talk at you or you join in on the roast, cheesy movies are a hoot between you two

and honey. 50 shades is one of THE cheesiest movies ever

you and tech will literally spend the entire duration of the movie tearing it to shreds

and the thing is tech is a very sarcastic, funny guy when he wants to be (and when it comes to you he definitely wants to be) so by the end of it he will have you in absolute stitches from laughing at the ridiculousness of both the movie and him

with any of the other batchers watching a movie like this either turns into a shy, slightly awkward experience (wrecker, echo) or an incorrigibly horny experience (crosshair, hunter)

but in this context tech literally has no shame or squeamishness about sexual things (why should he it’s a natural biological process?) so to yall the sex stuff is just another thing to roast

literally christian grey could be fully tying dakota johnson down and flogging her and tech will be like “in the last 3 minutes they have panned up to her nipples 4 times. this is criminally shoddy cinematography”

even tho he’s busy giving a detailed play by play critique, he never fails to keep some sort of physical contact with you (wrapping an arm around you and running his hand up and down your skin, playing with your fingers or your hair) so you know he’s enjoying spending this time with you despite his nasty words about the movie

also 1000% after you watch it tech will do extensive research on the ins and outs of bdsm and will have lots of hypotheses he wants to test out (as long as you’re willing and able ofc) ;)))

Wrecker: 13 Going On 30

of all the bad batch members, wrecker is the only one who unabashedly loves any movie that could be considered a chick flick

like he doesn’t even try to hide it or act like he’s too masculine for it. he loves romance and he’s proud of it

this man will have full marathons with you. rom coms, regular roms, tragic roms, hallmark roms, you name it and he’s game

his absolute favorite tho is 13 Going On 30

i feel like he has a huge soft spot for childhood best friends to lovers stories like he finds that type of lifelong partnership so endearing (and he loves to live vicariously through jenna since that type of romance was obviously never an option for him)

wrecker is also very childlike at heart and i think the idea of a 13 year old sweetheart trapped inside the body of a 30 year old cut throat magazine exec is so amusing to him (and maybe makes him feel just a little bit represented in the media)

he is definitely the type to completely engulf you in a cuddle for the entirety of the movie and he DEFINITELY cries into your shoulder at matty’s wedding when jenna is crying on the stoop with her dream house

he wants to try razzles so bad. like so bad. i think if he ever came across them somewhere he would barter at least one of his brothers for them

wrecker really just loves love and watching movies about it just reminds him of how lucky he is to have his own love story with you <3

Echo: The Princess Bride

i feel like it’s glaringly obvious why echo loves this movie

pirates. sword fighting. decades long revenge plots. the value of an honorable, loyal man. true love that never wavers even in the face of devastating tragedy and the darkest of hardships. clever but goofy humor.

echo considers this an action/adventure movie and NOT a romance movie (even tho it 100% totally is a romance movie) and requests to watch it very frequently

he can quote the whole thing. i’m seriously telling you echo loves the princess bride with his whole chest

even tho he refuses to admit it’s a love story above all else, he really does try to model himself in your relationship after wesley

like especially given what happened at the citadel and all the time you thought he was dead, the cinematic parellels are alive and present in y’alls relationship and he strives to be even half the man to you that wesley is to buttercup

literally in your day to day life he will sometimes respond to your requests with a smooth “as you wish ;)” (it doesn’t matter how many times he does it it still gives you butterflies)

when you watch the movie, he snuggles as close to you as possible and does his best to make youre comfy the whole time (he’s insecure about his prosthetics hurting you no matter how much you reassure him they don’t)

he just loves to be able to feel your heartbeat and your laugh when you giggle at the funny bits

every single time without fail at the part when buttercup is about to stab herself he leans down, ghosts his lips against the shell of your ear, and whispers the line in time with wesley: “there’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. it would be a pity to damage yours”

every single time without fail you wind up making out until he pulls away and tells you to watch the next part when wesley challenges humperdinck to a duel to the pain

echo just loves you to bits and wants you to know he’d endure a thousand fire swamps for you

Omega: Clueless

i have this really specific obsession with omega being a total girly girl and having very traditionally feminine interests as she keeps experiencing the universe and being exposed to a spectrum of gender expression beyond clone (masc and boring) and kaminoan (ugly)

so with that headcanon of her in mind, it’s vital to me that she sees clueless as soon as possible

clueless is an essential piece of media for a girl entering adolescence and i will die on this hill

it has literally everything you want and everything you need to develop into a well-rounded young woman

it’s so deliciously 90s and glamorama and valley girl humor and camp. its got meaningful female friendships and valuable life lessons and paul mf rudd

if there’s one thing you should encourage a burgeoning hetero teen girl to do, it’s to stick to dating guys like paul rudd in clueless. the earlier this message can be broadcast the better

the second you’re able to steal omega away from hunters watchful eyes (“hunter we’re just gonna watch finding nemo i swear!”) you show her this movie

at this point omega is not really a girly girl, but omega also has absolutely zero feminine influence in her life

the first time she sees clueless she is absolutely obsessed. like seriously she is so enamoured with the glitz and glam of cher horowitz

she asks you questions the entire time. she wants to know about EVERYTHING. the makeup, the clothes, the hair, the slang

(she definitely goes around saying stuff like “i’m totally bugging” for long enough afterwards that almost all of the boys have slipped up at least once with some ridiculous valley girl slang. you thought you were gonna die of laughter when you overheard tech say “as if!” to wrecker in the middle of an argument)

it just really introduces her to this whole world of femininity that she didn’t even know existed and she absolutely loves it

she makes you watch clueless with her seriously once a week at minimum. she begs you to style her hair like tai’s and you can’t help yourself when you happen to run across a little yellow plaid dress and buy it for her on sight

(hunter was gonna scold you for recklessly spending credits until he saw how omega almost cried from how happy she was for the gift)

honestly she enjoys the romance of it all and paul rudd is def her first celebrity crush but she enjoys more that you and her now have this special thing of hair and nails and pretty dresses

she loves how confident and beautiful and special you’re able to make her feel, and you love that you get to bring her that small sense of normalcy and happiness

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #157

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making Emiya Alter! No, not that one, the one they gave a really dumb nickname to.

Anyway, Demiya is a Vengeance Paladin to take down anyone who would threaten humanity (and protect himself from mind control nonsense) as well as a Hexblade Warlock to project whatever blades he might need straight into enemies. I know he made the deal with Alaya, but it made him good with swords, so it’s probably fine.

Check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: Man’s worst nightmare

Race and Background

Despite your arguments to the contrary, you’re still a Human, giving you +1 Strength and +1 Dexterity. You also get proficiency in Insight to be a better investigator, and the Fighting Initiate feat, because paladins don’t get the Archery fighting style normally. This gives you +2 on ranged weapon attacks.

What was it that turned you to the path of Alterness? Whatever it was, it made you a Haunted One, giving you proficiency with Investigation and Arcana, as well as a healthy hatred for anything Kiara-based.

Ability Scores

You’re good with guns and small swords, plus you fight shirtless, so make sure your Dexterity is as high as possible. Second is going to be Charisma. You’re a pretty scary guy, we need it for multiclassing,and it’ll help you shoot good later. Your Wisdom is also pretty good, thanks to your built-in mental protection. You’re too affected by your Alterfication to get affected by anything else. Your Strength isn’t that bad, you do use melee weapons too at times and we also need it for multiclassing, but your Constitution is rather low. Kintsugi is very pretty, but it’s not a great way to build a person. Finally, we’re dumping Intelligence. It’s less that you’re dumb, more that you just absolutely don’t care about stuff enough to get scholarly on most subjects.

Class Levels

1. Paladin 1: Paladins get better hit dice and the martial weapons we need for that Fighting Initiate we got, so we’re kinda stuck starting there. First level paladins get proficiency with Wisdom and Charisma saves, as well as two paladin skills. Intimidation is pretty self-explanatory, but you also get Athletics. Look, you’ve got pretty good abs, they had to come from somewhere.

You also get a Divine Sense, letting you sense threats to humanity nearby, and Lay on Hands for a bit of free healthcare for you or whoever else you touch. You get 5 hp of healing per paladin level per long rest, and you can use 5 points from that amount to heal a poison or disease.

Yeah, first level isn’t particularly in-character, but it’ll get better later.

2. Paladin 2: Second level paladins get another Fighting Style, so grab Close Quarters Shooter from the underdark UA for sick melee ranged attacks. This negates the disadvantage caused by making a ranged attack near hostiles, your ranged attacks ignore all but full cover, and you get another +1 to ranged attack rolls.

You also learn how to cast an prepare Spells using your Charisma. You can either use your new spell slots for, y’know, spells, or for a Divine Smite to add on extra radiant damage to a melee attack. Ranged attacks in melee range don’t count, sadly.

As far as prepared spells go, Detect Evil and Good can help hunt down baddies, ditto with Protection from Evil and Good. 

3. Paladin 3: At third level, you can at long last devote yourself to Vengeance!, giving you the spells Bane to trip up foes and Hunter’s Mark to stick some serious damage onto your enemies over time. You also get Channel Divinity once per short rest that you can use in two ways.

Abjure Enemy spends an action to force a wisdom save (DC 8+charisma mod+proficiency) or one creature is frightened for up to a minute or until it takes damage. While frightened, it can’t move. On a success, the creature’s speed is halved for a minute or until it takes damage.

Alternatively, you can swear a Vow of Enmity as a bonus action, giving you advantage on attacks against a nearby creature for a minute or until it hits 0 hp.

You also get Divine Health, making you immune to disease. Like half your body is gold, it’s not like sniffles are a big concern at this point.

4. Paladin 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to grab the Crossbow Expert feat. There’s a lot of overlap with Close Range Shooter, but you can now attack multiple times per turn with a crossbow, and you can use your bonus action to attack with a hand crossbow if you attack with a one-handed weapon with your main action. Unfortunately, that’s the one kind of crossbow that won’t work with warlocks, but for now it’s fine.

5. Paladin 5: Fifth level paladins get an Extra Attack, letting you attack twice per turn anyway! Making great use of feat you just got.

You also learn second level spells! Your freebies are Hold Person and Misty Step. Admittedly neither are really in character for you, but if you want to power game Hold Person gives you guaranteed critical hits on the held person, which is super busted when combined with your smites. Food for thought.

Otherwise you can use Magic Weapon and other smites to make normal swords into fancy magic swords.

6. Warlock 1: Bouncing over to warlock for a bit puts you in a pact with an even fancier magic weapon: a Hexblade. You might not have a soul any more, but you do have a Hexblade’s Curse, which you can put on one unlucky bastard as a bonus action once per short rest. The target’s cursed for 1 minute, during which: You add your proficiency to damage against the target, crit on 19s, and you gain HP equal to your warlock level+your charisma modifier when they die.

You also become a Hex Warrior, turning one non-two handed weapon into a charisma based weapon instead of dexterity or strength. You can also use this on any kind of weapon made with your pact weapon feature later.

Finally, you get Pact Magic, which is pretty similar to your old magic except it recharges on short rests instead of long ones. While the spell slots don’t blend like other multiclassing builds, you can use warlock slots to cast paladin spells and vice versa.

Speaking of warlock spells, you get Eldritch Blast to summon gunfire and Sword Burst to summon swords right into people. You also get Cause Fear because that’s most people’s natural reaction to you and Expeditious Retreat to stay in archery range. Just because you can fight in melee range doesn’t mean you should.

7. Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations. Like usual, we’re saving one for level three, but you still get Armor of Shadows now for free Mage Armor on yourself. Now you can finally rip your shirt off and make Kintoki jealous!

You also learn Comprehend Languages. Alaya probably wouldn’t drop you off in someplace without giving you the language to get around, right? Right?

8. Warlock 3: Your pact boon, as you can probably guess, is the Pact of the Blade, letting you summon pretty much any melee weapon you could want as an action. It also counts as magic for overcoming resistance, making the Magic Weapon thing from earlier pointless.

That invocation we were saving becomes Improved Pact Weapon, which expands your pact weapon choices to pretty much any ranged weapon you could want and it gives any weapon you make +1 to attacks and damage.

Honestly there aren’t that many second level spells that I think really fit Emiya as a warlock, but Blur is nice. If you’re going to be nameless, you might as well be faceless too, I guess.

9. Paladin 6: Going back to paladin for a bit lets you create an Aura of Protection, adding your charisma modifier to any save you or allies within 10′ of you make. It’s not an enormous buff, but a +2 is a +2, take what you get.

10. Paladin 7: Seventh level vengeance paladins are Relentless Avengers. When you hit a creature with an attack of opportunity, you can move half your speed as part of the reaction an ignore opportunity attacks. Like a lot of paladin goodies, this doesn’t pair well with your guns, but you do have swords as well.

11. Paladin 8: Another ASI at last! Bump up your Charisma for better saves and spells.

12. Warlock 4: Use this ASI to become Tough for an extra 24 HP now and another 2 each level. If you want to get in close, you’d better be able to take a hit. Also, you’re part gold. Sure it’s a soft metal, but it’s still a metal. That’s worth a few HP.

You also learn True Strike because I’m really hoping you’re aiming those things, and Shadow Blade for yet another sword you can summon.

13. Warlock 5: Fifth level warlocks get another invocation and a third level spell. Spirit Shroud makes all your swords a little bit sharper, dealing extra damage to and slowing down creatures in a 10′ radius. You also get Eldritch Smite, which burns through warlock slots to deal extra force damage, and can be used with ranged weapons.

14. Paladin 9: Ninth level paladins also get third level spells, like Haste which adds to your AC, bumps up your speed, and gives you and extra action for the duration. When the spell ends you have to take a turn to chill, but it’s totally worth it. You also get Protection from Energy, which... I mean if someone’s throwing around acid arrows, yeah go for it. Otherwise you can get more smites and Elemental Weapon for more fancy weapons.

15. Paladin 10: Tenth level paladins get an Aura of Courage, preventing allies in it from being frightened. I’d be more worried about charms, but honestly your wisdom save is pretty good at this point.

16. Paladin 11: Your Improved Divine Smite means you can add radiant damage to melee attacks even when you have no spell slots to burn; unfortunately that’s still just melee attacks, not ranged attacks.

17. Paladin 12: At seventeenth level you can finally use this ASI to bump your Charisma up past the point where your dexterity started, meaning your attaks finally get a bit more accurate thanks to being a Hex Warrior. This also bumps up your spell effectiveness and all your saves.

18. Paladin 13: Thirteenth level paladins get fourth level spells, like Banishment and Dimension Door. You also get access to yet another new smite for yet another new sword.

19. Paladin 14: Your last mainline paladin goodie is a Cleansing Touch, spending an action to end a spell affecting yourself or a willing creature charisma mod times per long rest. You’d think this anti-Kiara protection is coming late, but to be honest you probably should be level 20 to take on a Beast of Humanity.

20. Paladin 15: Your capstone level makes you a Soul of Vengeance, letting you make opportunity attacks on a creature affected by your Vow of Enmity if they try to attack anyone. Again, this only affects melee attacks.

Pros:

Mixing your Hexblade’s Curse and Vow of Enmity together means you’re really good at dealing crits with basically four times the odds of critical attacks each attack compared to your regular fighter. This is especially good for a character that can double smite like you can, dealing serious burst damage easily.

You also deal consistent damage with a +14 to hit and several different ways to stick more damage onto your attacks, like the afforementioned curse, Hunter’s Mark, or Spirit Shroud.

Thanks to your warlock slots recharging on short rests, you can go ham on smites a bit more than most people could, making your Unlimited Lost Works available to you more than other paladins.

Cons:

You’re a paladin specializing in ranged attacks. Admittedly the only things really making you a ranged fighter are your fighting styles, which can easily be changed, but if you’re playing to character you’ll find it a bit harder to use your paladin features.

Another reason staying at range is a good idea is your Concentration saves are really bad, with a total of +0 and no way to improve them.

Starting as a paladin but then adding in hexblade later means you have something of an awkward beginning, with your first couple ASIs not really contributing much to your character, with those first few mostly making up for your weaknesses rather than playing to your strengths.

[glassessence]

PGR - OC

I got so inspired by everyone’s creativity that I created my own OC ^^” Even though she’s a member of the Purifying Force, I hope she’ll still be received warmly. Special thanks to @punishing-gray-raven-ocs​ for their detailed posts about character creation that really made me think about Lydias! 

Warning: I may have gone a bit overboard with the detail. It’s a long read! Also, I threw in a not-so-subtle reference to the most traumatic Memory Rescue mission lmao. So proceed with caution, I guess HAHA

Name                          Lydias: Umbral

Type                            Offensive Support-type Construct

Service time              1 year

Psychological age    24

Activation date         15 March

Height                         167 cm

Weight                        59 kg

Vital fluid type          O

Faction                        Purifying Force

Rank                            A

Weapon                      Chakrams (preferred) /  Gun

Damage type             70% Dark, 30% Physical

Lydias is a support-type Construct modelled after Watanabe’s Astral frame. She has extreme stealth capabilities and excels at tracking, making her ideal for the execution of rogue and infected Constructs.

Her missions mostly involve infiltration and spying, although she’s also been deployed on assassination missions. Those orders come straight from Nikola and their records are kept top-secret, inaccessible even to Bianca.

Her frame is designed for long-range sniping and comes equipped with visual accuracy enhancements and superb calculative powers. However, Lydias prefers to engage her targets in close combat. Killing Constructs from afar feels cruel and cold, like they really are meaningless machines instead of former comrades.

She truly believes in the good of the Purifying Force, but hates the things she has to do. She doesn’t feel like she belongs, but also can’t see a future for herself anywhere else.

Her fighting style is very graceful, featuring a lot of spins and flips that are reminiscent of a dance. Her signature move is called “Blade Dance.”

B A C K G R O U N D 

Lydias was born to a wealthy family in Babylonia. Her mother joined the war effort as a Commandant shortly after she was born and is known as the leader of the elite task force, Cybele. Since then, Lydias has always wanted to follow in her mother’s famous footsteps.

Originally a Commandant of the Black Wolves, a certain incident caused her to give up the position and apply for reconstruction. Despite having low compatibility for Tantalum-193, her application was approved after negotiations with Nikola. Following her surgery, she was transferred to the Purifying Force.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Shows affection through actions rather than words. Bakes cakes for the humans of Babylonia in her free time

Philosophical, often ponders on the nature of humans and of the war

Likes to make dirty jokes and tease others

Obedient to a fault because she doesn’t trust her own judgement

Comes across as cold, but is just awkward with introductions

Doesn't think very highly of herself. Ignores it when other Constructs call her "traitorous hunting dog" but secretly thinks they're right

Loves the sea and the fathomless depths yet to be explored. Likes to go swimming at every opportunity

Prefers to work alone, but overprotective of her comrades when in a team. Frequently throws herself in harm’s way to shield her teammates. Knows it’s not good, but is too haunted by her past

Trusts easily, but is very guarded with her heart

Knows how to dance a lot of old-school styles like ballroom and ballet, but is too shy to ask anyone to practice with her

S E C R E T S

Has memorised a lot of poetry from before the Punishing Virus outbreak

Gets intensely lonely and jealous when seeing close squad camaraderie like Gray Raven’s

Avoids Kamui because he reminds her of someone she’s lost

Has spied on Watanabe extensively under Babylonian orders and is deeply fascinated by him

Doesn’t trust Nikola, but is unable to disobey his commands

Secretly harbours doubts about Babylonia’s mission to reclaim Earth

Has obtained special permission to download the data of the Black Wolves and often reads the records to keep them alive in her heart

V O I C E   L I N E S

“Team leader? No, I refuse. You’re making a grave mistake.”

“I’m not suited for protecting people.”

“My opinion on the Forsaken? They’re hardworking, loyal, and--Nevermind. We seem to share a similar goal.”

“The Black Wolves? Where did you hear of that name?! Don’t mention it again!”

“I baked a cake today. Would you like some?”

“Yes, I can dance. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell the others…”

“I can teach you to dance. Privately, if you’d like. Haha, just kidding.”

“Becoming a Construct was a decision I made rashly. I don’t necessarily regret it, but…”

“Are we really doing the right thing? This endless war… All these years… What have we really achieved?”

INTERLUDE

D U S K F A L L

A voice cracked over the intercom. “...dant…Com...ant...Commandant, do you hear me?!”

Lydias blinked. The urgency in his voice caught her off guard. Ferdinand kept his cool even in the most dire of situations. Something was very wrong. “Tell me, Ferdie.” Static. “Ferds? Come through!” Nothing. Communications had been poor ever since they’d entered this area, but they’d managed until now. For it to suddenly fail like that… it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Shit,” she said, turning to the other two Constructs with her. “On guard, guys. Something’s coming and comms are down.”

Ilya grimaced. “Sure it’s not one of Ferdinand’s pranks again?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Flora offered, even as she tightened her grip on her lance. “Pesky little bastard would find it hilarious.” Lydias said nothing. She was too tense. There was a taste in the air, a metallic tang that churned in her belly. Sweat dripped into her eye. Suddenly, a hand slapped her on the back. “Relax, Commandant,” Ilya chuckled. “We’ll protect you like always. No need to be so scared all the time.”

Something in her loosened, just a bit. “Shouldn’t I be the one protecting you?” she retorted, trying to project confidence. “You guys with your fragile little M.I.N.Ds?” Flora laughed, a deep-belly rumble that Lydias loved. The knot in her stomach unravelled some more. “You do that, Commandant,” Flora said. “We’ll just twirl our pointy sticks at the bad guys.”

Lydias was just about to say something snarky when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. She swirled, gun at the ready. There was still no word from Ferdinand. “I’m sensing a large Corrupted force in our perimeter,” Ilya reported. His voice had lost its casual lilt. “They’ve got us surrounded.”

Lydias cursed. “How’s that Memory retrieval coming along?”

“Slowly,” Ilya replied unhappily. Flora clicked her tongue. The Corrupted were visible now. They weren’t like anything Lydias had seen before. They carried advanced weapons - chainsaws and spears and bows - and seemed to be organised into phalanxes. Dread coiled in her belly. “We’ve been ambushed,” she breathed in horror. “Ferdinand tried to warn us. They must have blocked off comms.”

“Well, shit,” Flora grunted. The Corrupted army was within gunshot range now. “When the fuck did they get so smart?”

“Someone must be leading them,” Ilya said. “How did the information leak?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lydias said. “We need to retreat. Now.” A bullet flew by her head, burning the shell of her ear as it passed. Her heart hammered. “Back off,” Flora growled. She twirled her spear, eyes flashing as she impaled the Corrupted soldier. Beside her, Ilya stepped forward, fast as a flash, and stabbed one through the neck. Lydias fired off three shots, watching in grim satisfaction as two buried themselves in the heads of two infected Constructs.

The scene descended into chaos just as Ferdinand’s broken voice sounded in her ear. “...n...way! Comm...ant!”

-----------

Flora stumbled back. She was breathing heavily. Vital fluid leaked steadily from several places, staining her coat a rich purple. Ilya was behind her, grimacing. His left arm was gone, torn away at the shoulder. Sparks flew from the exposed wires within. Beside them, Lydias swayed unsteadily. She clutched at her stomach. Red blood seeped through her fingers. All their attempts to break through had failed. Things were looking more hopeless by the minute. 

“Commandant,” Ilya said, voice strained. “Turn off my pain receptors.” Flora nodded. “Same here.” Lydias coughed wetly. Her vision was growing dim. “It’s dangerous,” she admitted, wishing she could shut off her own terrible pain. “But there’s no other choice.” She authorised the command. Her team’s face relaxed immediately. She met their determined gazes and nodded. “We’re all gonna go home. Together.”

Ilya smiled. Flora grinned. But there was a sadness in their faces Lydias didn’t want to acknowledge. Her connection with Ferdinand was still blocked. He could be dead for all she knew. She turned away from the thought. Just survive, Lydias. And take the Wolves home.

Together, the Black Wolves rose. Ilya with his dagger and Flora with her spear. Unseen by Lydias, they nodded to each other. An agreement, a pact. A promise. Renewed, they threw themselves at the Corrupted like cornered animals. Slowly, inch by painful inch, an exit was being forced open. Corrupted weapons dug into their bodies, but they pushed on. 

Lydias fought beside them, swinging her chakrams haphazardly. Her gun had run out of ammo long ago. She stumbled, half-blind, and almost skewered herself on the end of a Corrupted sword. She could hardly think straight; blood loss was making her weak. Suddenly, a voice crackled in her mind. “Commandant!” Ferdinand’s voice tumbled through her hazy thoughts. “The signal jammer is gone. What’s your status?!”

Her heart soared, bringing with it a brief burst of clarity. “Ferdie! It’s an ambush. We need support!”

“I’ve already informed Babylonia,” he said urgently. “Reinforcement is on the way. I’m coming to you, Commandant. Just hold on!” His signal blinked to life, moving rapidly towards their location. Lydias smiled grimly. Ferdinand was on his way. Support was coming. Surely, they would be okay. They would make it out of this. She just had to hold on for a little longer. 

Flora’s signal pulsed unsteadily and Ilya’s grew fainter with every breath. Lydias clung with desperation to the unstable M.I.N.Ds of her Wolves. I will protect you.

-----------

“Coming through!” A ray of energy tore through the Corrupted wave. Lydias spied Ferdinand’s face through the sea of blades. She almost wept with relief. “Retreat,” she said hoarsely, struggling to stay conscious. “Black Wolves, retreat!”

On cue, Ilya and Flora rushed through the tunnel, half-carrying Lydias with them. Between one ferocious breath and the next, they’d broken through the Corrupted circle. She tumbled bonelessly into Ferdinand’s open arms. He took a brief moment to survey her and paled. “The meeting point isn’t far,” he said. “Support will be there.” He picked up Lydias and turned to run, but Ilya and Flora didn’t follow. 

“Sorry, but this is the end of the road for me,” Flora said wryly. “Didn’t think it’d end like this.” She spat out a wad of purple fluid. “At least these fuckers will go down with me.”

“And you get the privilege of dying by my side,” Ilya said primly, readjusting his grip on his dagger. Flora laughed, an edge of sadness in her voice. “Yeah, old man, I guess I do.”

Lydias stirred in Ferdinand’s arms. “No,” she said, forcing herself to meet their gazes. “I won’t allow it.” 

“Unfortunately, Commandant,” Ilya said. “This time it’s not up to you.” He raised his remaining hand in a salute. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Go on,” Flora growled. “We’ll make sure nobody pursues you.”

Ferdinand pursed his lips, but nodded tightly. Lydias fought in his grip. She hardly even felt the pain. “No!” she screamed, or tried to. It was hard to tell where her voice was. “Don’t! I forbid it! That’s an order!” He started running. She watched helplessly as the distance grew. “Stop! Go back, we have to help them! Stop!”

In the fading light, Ilya fell and was immediately consumed by a horde of Corrupted hands. His signal weakened then blinked out. A scream tore itself from her throat. She thrashed in Ferdinand’s grip and felt his hold on her loosen. White-hot pain shot through her body as she tumbled to the ground. Mad with grief, she crawled forward desperately, mind blank except for the desire to be with her Wolves. 

Strong arms lifted her up. Ferdinand’s lively voice was dull. “Please don’t do this, Lydias.” 

“Let go, Ferdie,” she said angrily. “We have to--” Flora’s signal flickered out. Lydias felt her spirit break. “No,” she cried. “Please, no.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Words abandoned her. The world seemed to shrink, compacting to a single thought: she had failed. 

-----------

She woke to white light. Something beeped steadily beside her. Tubes ran from her body to several machines like the tentacles of some deep sea creature. Her entire body hurt. Immediately, she reached for the Black Wolves, but their signals were absent, leaving her mind uncomfortably empty. Panic settled like ice in her veins. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. 

Surely, they had recalled their consciousnesses. Surely, she’d simply woken up early. And where was Ferdie? Gasping, Lydias stood, dragging her broken body to the wall of windows. She brought a fist to the cool glass. Nikola watched her from the other side. “Where are they,” she croaked. “What happened?”

He shook his head sympathetically. “They didn’t recall their consciousness. According to our records, Ilya and Flora died protecting you from pursuit. Ferdinand was infected.” His eyes were grave. “He guarded you until reinforcements arrived.”

She didn’t know if she could bear the answer, but she asked anyway. “And then?”

Nikola studied her for a long moment before giving in. “And then the Punishing Virus took over his M.I.N.D. He escaped because we prioritised your survival.” A desperate hope sparked to life within her. “So he’s still alive? Then there’s still a chance! Please, let me find him!”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” 

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

He turned away from her. “The Purifying Force has already been sent after him. I’m sorry, Lydias.”

-----------

Three weeks later

“Are you sure?” Nikola asked, studying her with intensity. “Your chances of success are only 47%.”

Lydias stared at him blankly. “I’m sure.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow it. Commandants are valuable to Babylonia. Perhaps even more than Constructs. Few possess the will and compatibility to stabilize M.I.N.Ds. Someone as experienced as you is not expendable.”

“Then I quit being a Commandant. I refuse to lead another squad.” She looked away. “I couldn’t protect any of them. Not a single one.” Her voice broke. “I’m not… I don’t think I can--I just can’t.”

Nikola considered her with some pity. “What do you want then, Lydias?”

“You know what I want. I’m not afraid of dying.”

“I know you’re not afraid, but it seems to me like you seek it.”

She said nothing. Nikola sighed. “I’d rather not lose you completely. You have experience and ability. The Black Wolves were specifically chosen for that mission for your competence. Aife will increase our combat power significantly against the Corrupted.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s unfortunate, but these things happen at war.”

“Say whatever you want,” Lydias said stubbornly. “But this is my final decision.”

“Fine,” Nikola said. “Your attempt at redemption is admirable. I’ll grant your request, but if you survive, you’ll work directly under me. Is that acceptable?”

“Perfectly.”

INTERLUDE HIDDEN CHAPTER

F A D I N G   L I G H T

Flora: Fairfrost - Voice Log 

*sounds of fighting* I hope this reaches you, Commandant. I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer and… *grunting* I just wanna say goodbye. The old man’s already gone. I felt his signal die out a while ago. He went down taking a blade for me, can you believe it? Even though I’m the Attacker Construct. *panting* You know what his last words to me were? “It hurts.” As if our pain receptors weren’t turned off. I know what he means though. *blades clashing* After all, we all wanna go back home with you. But life’s a bit unfair, eh? For once, I don’t mind. Protecting your back… it almost makes me feel like a hero. That ain’t something you experience every day, y’know? *metal tearing* I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. For being someone worthy of love. *crash, wet coughing* It’s been my honour and privilege to have been one of your Wolves, Commandant. You’ll remember me, won’t you?

-----------

Ferdinand: Aegis - Voice Log 

Lydias… This will probably be my last communication with you. I never would have thought this would be how it ends, but… Well, I’m just glad that I get to spend my final moments with you. I can feel my M.I.N.D. slipping, but Babylonia will be here any second now. They’ll take care of you, the way I wish I could. *sigh* Ah, there are so many things I want to say. I have nothing to lose anymore, so I hope you’re ready to listen. *deep breath* I love you. The way you laugh at my jokes and tease me. The way you can talk about anything. Your smile, your lips. I love the way you kiss me. And of course, I love our late night activities… Such as you trying to teach me to dance. *short laughter* Were you expecting me to say something else, Commandant? You--*grunt, glitching* Looks like my time is running out. I should go, but promise me one thing, Lydias. Promise me you’ll keep your heart open, so that someone else can love you as you deserve. I--You--*glitches*

DATA CORRUPTED.

[bagadew]

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Unbreakable Speckled Band (Part 2a)

Last Time: A day of terrific highs and crushing lows, as I (Ryunosuke) met Herlock Sholmes The Great Himbo Detective, danced around with him solving crimes, and discussed the secret pet of the Russian teenager next door. Unfortunately this all happened because I (Ryunosuke) have been accused of murdering Kazuma, the best character in the game, whom I doomed by finding hot. Also we didn’t even get to see the Russian teenagers secret pet, so what, I ask you, is the point?

(Quick note before we start, because the investigation parts take me a lot longer, I’m going to break them down into chunks of daily progress. If anyone would like, when I’m finished I’ll link them all together in a masterpost, but this way we should get somewhere (and I won’t spend three hours emailing myself screenshots))

As Biff Strogenov the 1 ton sailor is still guarding the door to cabin number 2, we can’t sneak back inside to look at cute animals investigate Kazuma’s death.

Also Herlock Sholmes has left us so we don’t even have him around to lighten the mood and take our minds off of the fact this games greatest character lies dead on the ground (or wherever they’ve taken the body).

However we do get to go and see my man Hosonaga, who has been investigating this whole time and probably has more information to give us!

(And speaking of Hosonaga, I’ve been doing some thinking, and I’m no longer sold on the TB theory. I think if Hosonaga did have TB he would effectively be a one man bio weapon, and given the amount he interacts with everyone I’m not sure that’s a direction Ace Attorney would want to go in (at least I hope not). However if it’s not TB that, very excitingly for me, leaves something like Cystic Fibrosis as a good option. While Cystic Fibrosis (what I have) itself has only recently started to affect non white people, I believe there is a sister condition with similar symptoms that mainly affects asian people. I’ll look into it further when I next have a checkup.)

(Also just to be clear, I do know that Hosonaga probably has tragic backstory poison cough, but I’ve decided I’m going to just run with this until I’m told otherwise. Get your representation where you can!)

THE FUCK!?!

HOSONAGA WHAT HAPPENED???

Is this like the blood and something that just happens sometimes, or did someone do this to you?

Oh wait one of his little lenses is gone, this was clearly man made!

HE SAID WHAT!!??!!

LOOKS LIKE WE’VE FOUND THE FUCKING KILLER LADS!

Kazuma I’ve already let you die on my watch, please lend me your sword so I don’t make the same mistake twice!

So this is how they outdo Miss Brett huh?

I haven’t even met this man and I’m already setting my phaser to kill.

WHAT ARE YOU, THE NIGHTS OF NI?!!

‘’tis but a scratch’ he says as he looks at me through one and a half eyes as the bruises blossom!

I don’t know if I should consider this man a badass or an idiot!

Also, on a lighter note, he did meet Herlock Sholmes the Himbo Detective, so I can rest easy knowing they’ve canonically interacted

But still, I’m not sure how I’m going to get past this.

This bastard almost certainly killed Kazuma (who we’ve already established is the best) and now he’s started on Hosonaga (who becomes a closer second every time I talk to him).

I am going to rip this man to pieces with my teeth and laugh as I do it

(Editors note: Here I made my tumblr post calling for the captain to catch these hands)

In these trying times let’s just sit for a while and reflect on the new, very important, information we have received. Hosonaga likes ballet.

Thank you Hosonaga, I feel calmed now.

And also, thank you for this autopsy report. You know I always feel slightly weary about trusting these, but since it’s from you...

Dammit now I’m sad again!

So, it looks like someone broke Kazuma’s neck. I’m sort of glad it was something quick, but given Kazuma’s big ol’ sword, I’m confused about how it was done. Though I guess we can eliminate the tiny 15 year old next door from our list of suspects, since I don’t think she’s got the necessary strength.

(Also it’s definitely the captain.)

Well I’m glad of that, but it does mean that whoever killed Kazuma must have crept up behind him and taken him by surprise, otherwise they’d have been struck down by KBS (Kazuma’s Big Sword).

What I don’t understand is how the killer got into our cabin. I’m wondering if it’s one of those things where they were already in the room, but I can’t see anywhere anyone could hide.

So Kazuma was hit on the neck then? I must admit I thought someone had gone at him with their bare hands!

I trust you too Hosonaga!

(You remember that dial that was hovering between Idiot and badass, well guess which way it’s flipped!)

Come on Susato! Trust us too! Believe in me (Ryunosuke)!

... not yet... ok... :(

(Understandable though)

God I wish I could have seen it!

(It’s at times like this I wish I was better at drawing)

Hosonaga: The Susato to Herlock’s Ryunosuke!

Huh?

What’s shoe polish?

The writing on the floor? That’s all I could think it could be?

Ah, the mysterious smudge!

A taste test?

Ok, seriously though, it seems like the mark might have been left by Kazuma’s shoes as they scuffed along the floor. I’m not sure what this tells us, other than that the body was moved, but I think we’d already worked that one out by the fact Kazuma apparently chose to write his final words in Russian!

Farewell Hosonaga...

:(

DON’T TIS BUT A SCRATCH YOUR WAY OUT OF THIS HOSONAGA!

(The dial has spun back to idiot!)

Oh shit...

I’m not even sure what to say or do about this other than feel bad and sad.

Like would it help if I told him I was pretty sure he’d been set up to fail, or would that make him feel worse?

:(

You’ve got a self abusive streak to you, don’t you Hosonaga.

Oh SHIT! HE WAS DRUGGED TOO!!!

Wait a second, I BET EVERYONE ON THE SHIP WAS DRUGGED SO THEY COULD SMUGGLE NIKOLINA ONBOARD!

Except Kazuma because he didn’t like chicken!

I wonder if these two facts are connected, or if whoever killed Kazuma knew what was going on and took advantage of everyone being drugged to commit their murder.

Someone like the captain perhaps?

(And on that note, I’m going to turn in for the night and upload this in the morning)

[cookieek]

Chapter 23: In which things ramp up...

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 Epilogue ao3 Wattpad

(I decided to split the chapter up in two parts here on tumblr due to tumblrs restrictions on text blocks, hence why the title is also split up. Also, just thought I should give a quick warning that there will be an implied character death in this chapter, in case that’ll be an issue for anyone.)

For a moment everything seemed to stay still, Arthur’s thoughts and movements freezing as the kings words rung out through the ballroom. Edda... Coming back here... For him? No, that could’t be right. It wasn’t safe for her here! Forget entering the lions den, she’d be walking straight into the lions maw!

There was a faint fluttering in his chest at the thought, though it was rivalled by the worry it also summoned. She’d had to have ran away to where these bastards couldn’t reach her! She wouldn’t just throw her freedom away like that, especially not for a prince... Not for someone she should hate on principle... Not for him.

A loud explosion shook the room, snapping Arthur out of his wallowing thoughts. The noise sounded somewhat distant, but the force from the explosion could be felt through the entire ballroom, the barrel near Arthur rattling from how the ground shook.

“What was that!?” The king shouted, standing up from his throne again.

He was answered by sudden shouts of fear, and pain, and a door to the side of the room suddenly slamming open. A half dozen men ran, or more accurately scrambled, out of the door. One late straggler holding the lower part of his armour in a death grip, what remained of the leather straps that should have held it up hanging burned and smoking from the edge of the armour. The cause of the knights situation bellowed out of the door just behind him, large flames filling the doorframe, licking at it and spewing out against the cloth covered walls and marbled floor. Along with the fire came smoke that plumed out and up towards the chandeliers, as well as dust and ash that fell over the floor, dimming the bright white marble.

And then, amidst the sudden alarm that arose in the room, out of the smoke and fire came a shape holding a burning blade in their hand.

The moment the figures shot out of the cover of the smoke, Arthur’s eyes met Eddas. For a second the grey eyes looking back at him softened into a mix of relief, but he could still see the unmoving tinge of worry. Her eyes shifted away from him and quickly hardened, filling with the very same righteous fury that he many times had seen in the eyes of the knights that served the Pendragon family.

The king lifted his hand at Edda.

“Princess Harriet, what on Earth are yo-“

Edda gritted her teeth, and jabbed her dagger towards the king, sending a concentrated beam of fire at him. For a moment Arthur thought that she had actually hit the king straight in the head, but he realised soon that it had gone past him, just managing to scorch the side of his beard. The fire instead hit one of the royal banners behind the thrones, burning a large hole into it and leaving the rock wall behind it glowing from the sudden surge of heat.

“RELEASE ARTHUR!” Edda roared, tilting the dagger in her hand, but still pointing it at the king. “Or the next one goes through your face.”

There was a moment of shocked silence, the king slowly lifting his hand to touch where the fire had almost hit him. The fluttering feeling in Arthur’s chest had grown stronger, and it had taken all his self control to not celebrate prematurely at the kings stunned expression. And the at absolutely fierce look on Eddas face, that despite everything made his heart thud rapidly.

He was so lost in the feeling that he for a moment didn’t notice the sword wrapped onto her back, he couldn’t quite make much of it out from where he sat, but the feeling of hope still grew stronger at the sight.

Queen Anna abruptly stood up from her throne.

“She’s gone hysterical!” She declared, her voice sounding just a bit shaken, but was far from loosing the sharp resolve from before, “Knights! Restrain her!” She gestured towards Edda.

The knights, having been frozen in surprise like the rest of the room, shook themselves out if their stupor, and in a chorus of ‘Yes, Your Majesty’ they drew closer to Edda. Some not yet pulling out their weapons, simply holding up their hands, ready to pounce at her, but others, as well as the remains of the guards that had been in the tunnel, cautiously drew their pikes and swords as they moved closer.

Yet again worry flooded Arthur’s mind, seeing the sheer number of knights in the room, there was no way she could protect herself from all of them!

Her eyebrows seemed to pull together even more, as her focus shifted to the knights surrounding her, and then she began swinging the dagger around herself. Creating a lightning show of sparks and flames, as she forced the knights back, occasionally sending a shot of fire to strike down a singular knight, but mostly focusing on large waves of flames to keep the knights at bay.

Arthur noticed that she also seemed to be trying to wade through the knights to get closer to the podium, but he also noticed how despite her efforts the knights seemed to inch closer and closer. The only thing keeping them back being the fire, and Arthur knew that the fire wasn’t infinite, when the oil had been used up Edda would be a sitting duck.

He angrily pulled at the rope around his wrist, if only he’d asked the gnome to untie his hands before he pulled out that damn metal loop! He had to get down there! He had to help Edda before it was to late!

A hand struck the back of his head, and an angry looking Simon glared down at him.

“Stop struggling dwarf.” Simon seemed like he was about to say something more, but stopped as another beam of fire was sent towards him, making him have to dodge out of it’s way just in the last second.

“Don’t you fucking touch him, asshole!” Edda yelled at Simon, her attention for a moment being taken away from the surrounding knights.

And that was all that the nearest knight needed, as they swung their spear and smacked the dagger out of Eddas hand, disarming her. The dagger falling to the ground meters away from her, and the fire around it seizing as the spell seemed to deactivate.

“Don’t hurt her!” The crown princess exclaimed from her throne, clearly upset, “My poor sister is just scared and confused!”

“Uh, I’m sorry your majesty,” the knight said, first aiming it towards the crown princes, but then turning it back to Edda as well. “Now please princess-“

Edda shut the knight up by swinging Excalibur at his head, having taken it out of the cloth as the knight had looked away, and clubbed him down using the rock stuck to the blade. Arthur found his breath catch in his throat at the sight, it had been Excalibur! She’d found it! The knight fell to the ground, the element of surprise playing into Eddas favour and making them drop their spear.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” Edda hissed at him, the knight only groaned a little, which she responded to by kicking their head.

Then more knights closed in on her. A few more, despite the crown princess orders, having drawn their weapons. Edda heaved up Excalibur again, with what Arthur could see to be an admirable amount of great effort, and started swinging with it at the knights.

Arthur watched Edda swing Excalibur against the offending knights, in a mix of worry and entrancement. The way she swung the sword, while in no way as skilled and impressive as the soldiers that had enchanted him before, men and women who had spent years training with the sword, was so oddly, her. Instead of using the swords blade, she swung it like a club, using the stone stuck to it to bludgeon whoever got near her. He’d think such a crude use of Excalibur would disgust him, but he could only feel endearment for her as she made a man topple over by slamming the rock into his shin.

“Come on!” Simon yelled towards the knights, his focus fully shifting from Arthur and to the fight “it’s one h- princess!” He then tried to hide a wince just as Edda got one knight right where the sun doesn’t shine.

But no matter how valiantly, and brutally, she fought, the sheer number of people against her was still a problem that only grew, as more and more knights crowded her in an attempt to restrain her. Arthur tugged angrily at the ropes around his wrist again. He had to get out! He had to help her!

“Stay still, cursed prisoner,” a small, familiar, voice came up from behind him, “it’ll hurt more to do this if you struggle.” Then Arthur felt the tiny hands of Rista touch his wrist.

“H- Why are you here?” Arthur whispered under his breath, trying not to look at the gnome as to not bring attention to the person aiding his escape.

“What? Don’t wanna be saved from certain death anymore?” Rista asked, sarcasm evident in their tone. “I just finished setting all of the bows and arrows in the armoury- Can you believe they have that here!? Anyway, I set that on fire, and thought it best to finish up my work with you as well before seeing to other... things.”

“Oh uh, no.” Arthur mumbled, “About the certain death part.” He wasn’t that surprised that a place like this had an armoury, the guards and knights had to stock their weapons somewhere.

Rista scoffed a little.

“Good, I don’t wanna be wasting my time with indecisive humans right now, you know.” There was a faint tearing sound, making Arthur nervously glance at Simon for a moment, only to see that the man was to busy shouting at the knights to notice.

“That’s fair,” He said, moving his hands cautiously and felt the rope limply slide of them. A small victory that he only let himself enjoy for a millisecond, especially as more and more knights crowded Edda. “Thank you.”

“You could do that by breaking some things on the way out.” Rista said, “the less replaceable, the better.”

Arthur threw a quick look at the ornate thrones beside him, looking both quite expensive and heavy... and pretty throwable.

“...I can do that.” Arthur said and leaped up from his kneeling position and towards the thrones. The one closest to him was, fortunately or unfortunately (he couldn’t really decide at the moment), empty, so just as his movements were spotted he’d already grabbed the underside of it and hurled it at the crowd of knights. He had made sure not to aim to high, lest he’d hit Edda, but towards the front of the crowd, and he hit it straight on. The heavy throne broke into chunks from the force of the impact, and started an almost domino like chain as knights fell and knocked each other over, creating a small path through the crowd leading to Edda.

The first thing Edda said, or more accurately, exclaimed, as her attention shot to the toppled over knights and the destroyed throne, was a loud and ecstatic, “NICE!”. She looked up at him with a absolutely delighted, and delightful, grin on her face, but which quickly dropped as she lifted Excalibur over her shoulder.

“Catch!” She threw the sword with both her hands, sending it spinning towards his direction.

“Don’t just stand there! Grab that little beast!” The queen shouted from behind him.

Arthur rushed forward, ignoring the sounds around him, and reached forward to grab Excalibur.

His fingers just brushed the handle, before he was yanked back by his collar and lifted from the ground. The sword, lacking someone else to grab it, instead imbedding itself into the marble podium, the rock on the blade breaking in the process.

“Now look what you have done!” Exclaimed the queen, as Arthur struggle to get loose from Simons grip. “Someone remove that unsightly thing from the podium at once!”

He still needed to help Edda! He had to get Excalibur and help her! Before-

A loud swear rang through the ballroom as one of the knights finally managed to restrain Edda, who kicked and yelled as they dragged her up to the edge of the podium.

Arthur was dropped to the floor, Simons knee on his back and arms restrained behind him.

“Stay. Down. You pathetic creature.” Simon hissed, “Can’t you see you have already lost?”

—

Edda hadn’t exactly came in with any real expectations for how the rescue would go, so she wasn’t sure if she’d call this better or worse then expected. Though seeing the royal families expressions when she had broken in had definitely been worth it, not to mention how they looked when Arthur toppled the princesses throne! She almost wished she could have that framed and put up in her hut... If she ever got to return to her hut that is.

“Princess Harriet Frodesdotter.” The queen said sternly, after she frustratedly dismissed the knights after they unsuccessfully attempted to remove the sword from the podium, something that had made Edda, despite everything, snicker a little. “We, your family, have spent weeks, months, years, worrying about your well being. And now when we are finally reunited, though admittedly not all of us, Gustav had to regretfully stay home to see to that everything in the castle run smoothly while we’re away, he was very upset about this-“

Edda audibly scoffed at this, she doubted him being upset had anything to do with him missing her.

“...As I was saying.” The queen continued, badly concealed anger in her tone. “We were all so worried about you and so happy to get to see you again, and... Princess Harriet. What exactly do you call this, little scene you pulled?”

Edda pretended not to hear her, wondering instead if they would have to replace the podium now. She hoped so.

“Look at me when I speak to you.” There was a harshness in her voice that made Edda involuntarily tense up, but she still refused to look at her. Keeping her head in the same position, she tried to carefully shoot a glance at Arthur, and gritted her teeth as she saw him restrained against the ground. She tried to struggle against the grip of the knight, who was holding her in a bear hug, but it did nothing, and his shoes was all plate metal so she doubted stepping on them was an option.

There was a loud, almost theatrical, sigh.

“Sir Daleman, if you please.” The request was followed by a ‘yes, your majesty’, and then the clanging of armour.

Cold metal meet Eddas chin as the knight tried to push up her head with his hand, at first gently, then forcefully. Edda tried to advert her eyes even as her head was moved to face the queen directly. It was a bit troublesome on account that she was only one or two meters away from her, but hey, she tried.

“Enough of this childishness!” The king said loudly as if he was just holding in a angry roar. “Look at your parents, and tell us what on Earth all this are supposed to be! Did we not tell you that you were to open the door with your ring, not explosives!”

Oh, they probably said something about that in the letter a few days ago, she thought to herself as the king moved on to question her having explosives in the first place.

“They are very dangerous!” The crown princess chipped in, “you could have harmed your adorable face! Or maybe your ability to have children!” She gasped dramatically, as if those somehow was Harriet’s most important qualities.

“If it so happens that you have lost it, your ring,” the queen said in a tone indicating that she very much thought that was the case, “you could have just come here through the front doors, we’d send up Lord Simon to make sure it was you.”

“Got rid off it.” Edda muttered, the berating chatter from the royal family already draining her.

“What.” The queen said, her lips drawn into a tight line as Edda finally looked back at her.

“I got rid of it.” Edda repeated with a restrained shrug, “That sjörå seemed to like it more anyway.”

The entire royal family looked at her as if she just had taken a large dump on the floor, expressions that Edda found she liked on them way more then she probably should.

“You-“

“You foolish child!” The king roared, which admittedly made Edda instinctually attempt to hunch back a little, “How could you give something like that to a sjörå!? Have you lost your mind that much!?”

“It must be because of that dwarf!” The crown princess exclaimed before Edda could rebuff the kings words. “My baby sister would never do something like that! He probably made her do it!”

“What!?” Both Edda and Arthur exclaimed in unison. Though maybe Edda shouldn’t have been too surprised, the crown princess had never thought that much of Harriet’s mental faculties, but she also couldn’t help finding her statement incredibly absurd.

“Oh, my poor little sister,” The crown princess walked up to the edge to look down at Edda. “It was probably he who made you mess around with the explosive as well, exploiting your babelike curiosity. What more has he been making you do? What more has he made you do under the sweet guise of love?”

Edda almost choked on her own tongue, she had told herself that this would no doubt be how they would interpret her and Arthur’s relationship, but it was a whole other thing to hear it being said out loud.

“He- I made those decisions of my own damn will! I’m a 21 year old adult! Not some gullible toddler!” She shouted at the crown princess, once more struggling against the grip of the knight. Rage building up in her system, both from years of being treated like a naive and stupid child, constantly undermined in everything she did, and from how they were talking about Arthur. “Whatever messed up ideas you have about him are not true!”

“So he must have told you.” The queen shook her head besides the crown princess, “He no doubt must have made it seem to you that it was what you wanted.” She threw a venomous look at Arthur, who looked absolutely horrified by the accusations, something Edda could hardly blame him for. “Such a disgusting creature, taking advantage of a poor feebleminded princess and bending her to his own horrid whim.”

“He’d never do that!” Edda yelled, still struggling to get out, her feet uselessly stomping down on the metal boots of the knight. “He’s horrified by the idea of being a burglar, he’s weirdly chivalrous when he has no reason to be- not to mention he’s a constant worry wart over my safety and comfort, and if I’m working myself to hard- and he almost cried when revealing that he’d kept something from me! He’s a big ridiculous sweetheart, who likes working out at sometimes really odd times of the day, and to watch plays, and makes really sweet flower crowns, and I-“ she stopped herself, just biting back the love confession. This was neither the place nor time, and would hardly be any help in this sort of situation either.

Though it didn’t seem to matter wether she’d said something or not, for the looks that the royal family was sending her said that they already knew what she had kept back. Why had she even bothered trying to convince them about his character in the first place, of course they wouldn’t listen to her. They never listened to her, or well, they did that one time, but it seems like they were doing everything to undo that.

“...I see,” the queen said slowly, “it looks like we’ll have to talk to you about this later.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “The dwarf is found guilty, prepare the barrel.”

“No!” Edda felt sheer panic flood her system. They we’re going to do it, they where going to kill him! She shook her arms around uselessly as one of the knights on the podium stiffly opened the barrel and poured out the knives. Knives. Knives!

Eddas hand met with the handle of her knife, and with a fluid motion she pulled it out and stabbed it straight in between the gaps of the knights leg armour.

The knight howled in pain and let go of Edda, grasping his leg as Edda pulled out the knife in a feral twisting motion, and elbowed the knight in the face for good measure. She stumbled free and immediately dived for her dagger, and with the feeling of its handle in her palm she once more activated the spell, throwing a wave of fire wildly around her as she pulled herself back up to her feet.

“Get her before she hurts herself!” The crown princess yelled from the podium, and behind her Edda could see Simon shift off Arthur, grabbing his arms to lift him up into the barrel.

Like shit she was going to let that happen.

Sticking her hand into her bag she pulled out one of the two remaining explosion spells that she had left and hurled it at the underside of the podium. She spat on the handle (she really had to figure out a better way to activate the spell...), just as the spell was about to hit the floor she lifted her dagger towards it, and watched as the bright fiery explosion shook the podium, breaking a hole into the side of it.

And shaking Simon enough to knock him off balance, letting his grip on Arthur slip just as he had lifted him off the ground. She saw him running towards her direction, just as she had to create another wave of flames to keep the approaching knights at bay. She briefly noted how many more of them seemed to have pulled out their weapons at this point, though it also seemed like they were mostly using them defensively, never aiming directly for her. She wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to feel patronised or relieved over that, but she was leaning towards patronised.

She threw another glance up at Arthur, and saw him grab the sword in the podium, then without a second of hesitation, pulling it out and jumping down to the ground in one smooth motion. Disappearing behind the crowd of knights moving towards her with what seemed to be a loud battle cry.

The king roared something after him that Edda couldn’t quite hear, but it seemed to prompt Simon into running off the podium the moment he had regained his balance.

Edda didn’t let that distract her though, all her focus being on getting to Arthur, before he too got crowded by knights. Knights who would no doubt be less defensive when dealing with him then her. She called forth yet another great wave of fire in front of her, burning her way through the crowd to where she saw Arthur disappear.

Most of the knights scurried back from her fiery assault, though a few were ballsy enough, or probably just sick enough of her shit, to go on the offensive. She blocked one attack from a pike with her dagger, and then promptly set it ablaze. And then managed to just get out of the way off someone just straight up chucking his spear at her, although in reverse so it was the blunt end that almost cracked her in the skull. This promoted yet another angry yell that Edda could’t quite pick out, this time from the crown princess, and the knight seemed to show a small sign of remorse.

Nevertheless it seemed like another knight behind them had decided to really throw caution to the wind, rushing at her, sword fully drawn and eyes blazing with rage. Edda responded in kind, aiming her dagger at him specifically and sent a concentrated beam of flame at his face.

His head however was thrown back, just in time to dodge the beam, and then the rest of his body seemed to follow suit as he fell onto his ass.

And then two blue eyes looked up at her, Arthur straightening up in front of the knight. A trail of knights trying to get back onto their feet behind him, and a knight with a pike coming charging straight for his head.

Edda rushed forward, throwing one arm around Arthur as she brought forth the largest gust of flame yet towards the direction of the charging man, and towards the rest of the knights before her. The flames shot over the room, even reaching behind Eddas field of view, and blackened the walls, squires holding buckets of water- for the previous burns to the rooms she had caused- throwing themselves out of the way for their dear lives. Knight fell to the ground, trying to avoid being burnt and in their panic knocking over the other knights around them

A warm arm wrapped around her back, and Arthur leaned against her, a deep sigh leaving his lungs. What the sigh meant Edda couldn’t say, but for a breath Edda let herself lean back onto Arthur, relief that he was alright and not dead flooding her. Or well, not dead yet. They still had to get out of there.

She moved away from Arthur, momentarily freezing as she saw how he looked at her with those sparking eyes of his, like he was looking something to be admired.

His lips moved, but what he said with such a wistful expression only joined the noise in the room, making it indistinguishable. Then his eyes snapped back to focus to something behind her, and he let out a shout. A realisation flashed in his eyes, the grip he had on her side tightening and he pulled her aside just as a large axe swung right past them and embedded itself into the ground.

Edda looked up and instinctually shot a blast of fire right at the face of the attacker, though the flames was intense enough to hit some of the still standing knights behind them. Which was at least something, because as the flames dispersed, a large looming knight stood above them. It was one of the knights that had flanked the royal family on the podium and though his armour was covered in flecks of black, he seemed unmoved by the attack, and pulled out the axe from the ground again for yet another attack.

“Oh no, not on my watch!” Arthur yelled, the noise in the room having suddenly mellowed out with the appearance of the large knight. Arthur jumped in front of Edda and swung his sword against the knights hands. An action which greeted them with a decidedly non human, or really unlike any living creature Edda had ever seen or heard, scream.

It sounded like, an old rusty door opening, like two particularly stubborn gears grinding against each other. Normally these sound wouldn’t bother Edda, but the realisation that the knight had made them lead onto a whole other realisation, especially as the deep cut on the knights arms did nothing but spark, and make the arms twitch unnaturally.

The prince had made moving soldiers before, but none of them had ever been taller than a hand, this was evidently something that had changed the years she’d been gone. For now a knight, made from his core by metal and steel, almost the size of a bear stood before her. And said knight was, despite his hurt arms, once more moving up his axe to attack.

They managed to just dodge the second swing from the axe, and taking a couple of steps back, Edda tried to reassess the situation, throwing her eyes over the now ruined and burned ballroom. Many of the knights was till strewn across the floor nursing their wounds, but the ones that was still standing was seemingly only watching what was happening passively, and in the midst of them, mechanically power walking towards them with a very large sword, was the second steel knight.

—

Arthur heard Edda swear loudly, before turning around so her back was to him, their hands interlinked.

“Edda?” He asked, hoping that she could make him out again, his eyes still focused on the large hulking steel monster before him, considering how he should be dealing with it. If it was anything like the lions, then the ideal way to defeat it would be a beheading, or a explosion from Edda.

“There’s two of them.” She hissed back at him, and then he heard the sound of flames, “...yep also protected against fire it seems.”

“Huh,” Arthur swung his sword against the steel monster again, this time putting his all into the swing, cutting off the beasts entire right forearm. A spark of victory, which was short lived as the lack of a second arm didn’t seem to stop it from lifting the axe. “Your brother really like making things in pairs don’t he?”

“The Prince does seem to have a thing for that,” Edda said, “The second one is getting pretty close, let’s move out of both their ways shall we?”

The large creature lifted the axe over it’s head again.

“Sounds like a good idea.” Arthur said, and with a secure grip on each other’s hands they both jumped towards the same side, just as the axe, and the tip of a Zweihander came down where they had been standing.

“Just let go of him Harriet! They won’t hurt you of you aren’t near him!” The crown princess yelled from the destroyed podium.

“Like fuck I will!” Edda yelled back, her grip on Arthur’s hand tightening as they now stood side by side, his heart beat strongly as he squeezed her hand back. As they moved back from the steel beasts a little more, she hurled fire towards where they were both retreating, clearing out some knights who seemed to have decided that the metal monsters would have to be the ones to deal with them.

Some knights they were, Arthur scoffed to himself, though he guessed you couldn’t expect that much from knights working for this poor excuse of a royal family.

The steel knights, now standing just in front of each other, looked at, and then turned towards Edda and Arthur. Then, as if on the same cue, they began marching towards them in eerie synchronicity.

“You still have any explosion spells on you Edda?” Arthur said, moving in front of her with the glistening blade of Excalibur, it shone a little more then he could remember, but there was no time to focus on why at the moment. “Think you can get both of these ugly bastards?”

“I’ve only got one left, maybe I can aim in between them...” her voice trailed off for a moment, then a very small cackle came out of her. “Actually, I think I got a better idea.”

Arthur didn’t get time to ask what it was before her hand slipped out of his, and the rustling of Edda digging through her bag reached his ear. As he glanced over his shoulder for a moment to see what she was doing, he saw her holding the last explosion spell in one hand, her dagger in the other, grinning gleefully.

“Think I can hit that big one up there?” She asked him, gesturing towards the large crystal chandeliers, specifically towards the one that hung roughly above where the two steel monster where.

Getting her idea Arthur let out a little laugh of his own, as he turned his focus back to the enemies at hand.

“Well, you do have quite the throwing arm M’lady.” He said, both of them walking back a little bit more till they seemed to meet the now charred wall, “I don’t doubt your abilities in doing this great feat.” He eyed the nearby knights in the corner of his eyes, there was two particularly close to them, one on each side, just in case they would try their luck while Edda was distracted with the steel knights. “In the meanwhile, I’ll watch your back.”

“Thanks Arty.” Edda said simply, yet with such a warmth it almost staggered him. She spit at her dagger, and then followed through with chucking the explosion spell as high as she possibly could. Lifting the dagger to the sky with a broad grin as her eyes followed the spell, and detonated it, letting it erupt into a bright and furious light.

For a moment there was only smoke, covering the ceiling from view.

And then, not one, but two chandeliers plummeted through the smoke and crashed against the ground, on top of the two steel monstrosities, sending bits of steel and crystal flying over the room. Rubble from the ceiling drizzled down over both the wreckage in the middle of the ballroom, the knights who was slowly starting to straighten out again, and on top of the royal family staring at the destruction in abject horror.

A loud, ecstatic, and cackling laughter erupted from Edda, one which Arthur found himself tempted to join in on, her eyes sparkled with such life that one only saw in knights after a tough but successful sparring match against a rival. It was incredible.

“W-what have you done!” The queen shouted, aghast at the scene before her.

“Harriet! Harriet would never! Could never!” The crown princess insisted, grasping the fan in her hand in a death grip.

Edda’s laugh trailed off, leaving her to just let out a few chuckles before smiling gleefully up at the royal family.

“Maybe she wouldn’t, or couldn’t,” she relented with a tilt her head, “but I can, and against assholes like you,” she lifted her dagger towards them, as her free hand took a hold of Arthur’s hand again, giving it a warm squeeze that made his heart flutter. “I very much will.” Her face beamed in beautiful triumph.

There was small movements around the room that Arthur found himself noticing in the corner of his eye, the knights and remaining noblemen steadying their grips on their weapons, all eyes focused on the two of them. Arthur would probably be up for fighting every man in the room at the moment, side by side with Edda, and if she asked him to do so, he knew that he probably would in a heartbeat, but he knew a good time to fall back when he saw it. And frankly, with being dragged, beaten up by noblemen while tied up, and barging through a crowd of fully armoured knights headfirst, his fingertips at one point being grazed by the flames Edda was throwing around her, his body was starting to hurt. Any trace of that potion he had taken in the pantry was far gone at this point.

And he was once more yearning the sweet healing touch of rough yet soft hands.

“What are you all standing around for! Get them!” The king finally roared, once more spurring the room into a fervour.

Arthur eyed the doorway that Edda had entered the ballroom through, it was only a few metres away from them, only one knight so far seemingly standing in the way of it, a little smoke still seeping out from it and onto the floor. He tugged at her hand and gestured wordlessly towards the possible exit. He needed to know if she was ready to go yet. Through it all he stayed keenly aware of the knights coming towards them, keeping a tight grip on Excalibur, ready to fight.

Edda nodded at him, and they begun running to the charred doorframe. This caused more commotion from the knights, all of them rushing to try to stop them. Reaching into her bag Edda pulled out some northern bedstraw which she hurled in the path of the oncoming mob, with Arthur getting the honours to strike down the knight that was already standing in their way.

And then, with the sound of clashing metal and confused, and enraged shouts, behind them, they entered the tunnel.

“Fun to see that that worked a second time.” Edda said looking over her shoulder at the doorframe, a smile on her face illuminated by the flames of her dagger. The way she had entered the tunnel earlier seemingly having taken out all lighting there was inside of it, or maybe it always was this dark, though Arthur doubted it.

“Yeah,” Arthur responded, “pretty sure there was some noblemen from last time back there too, you’d think they would have learned from last time.”

“Oh, I’ve learned alright.” A familiar voice said from the darkness, greeting Arthur with a hard shove to his stomach, making him drop to his knees, though his hand still gripped Eddas tightly. “The princess here might be a wannabe hag,” a hand shot out and grasped Eddas wrist tightly. “But she still has some nasty tricks up her sleeve don’t she?”

The hand pulled Eddas arm forward, and the fire from the dagger illuminated the smug face of Lord Simon.

“Edda!” Arthur yelled trying to get up on his feet again, but was greeted with two spears pointed straight at his face.

“Shut it dwarf!” Simon exclaimed, “this is where your story ends! The king and queen wants their daughter back whole, but they never specified the same for you.”

“Let me go you prick!” Edda tried to pull her arm out of Simons grip fruitlessly.

“Oh no, my dear princess.” Simon tutted, “You really shouldn’t be speaking like that to me anymore, though I guess that is something I’m going to have to teach you, isn’t it?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Edda hissed back at him.

What Simon had said before in the pantry echoed in Arthur’s head.

Either way, Princess Harriet is mine.

Arthur couldn’t let that happen, he wouldn’t let it! The pikes in front of him gleamed dangerously, but when had he let something like that stop him, plus... He glanced at the flickering dagger in Eddas hand, the only thing shedding light over the tunnel.

He had a pretty good plan, thanks to one little troll girl.

“Edda, turn off the dagger.” He said, looking up at her. She looked back at him, confusion in her eyes. “I can see in the dark.” It wasn’t exactly 100% the truth, but it was faster to say then ‘when it’s dark, everything starts to glow, but just for me’, so he went with it. Her eyes widened a bit in surprise, and he squeezed her hand gently, “Trust me?”

After a moment, she squeezed back.

“Wait wha-“ Simon begun, but darkness had already fallen over them.

And then everything glowed, and Arthur gave himself a second to take in the shining figures of Edda, Simon, and two noblemen that Simon seemed to have dragged into the tunnel for this backhanded ambush. Too bad for Simon that Edda wasn’t the only one with some tricks up their sleeve.

Arthur kicked the, now very low to the ground, pikes out of the way, and moved to put himself in between Simon and Edda, striking Simon in the face with the pommel of the sword. There was a small cracking sound and Simon let out a sharp yell of surprised pain, making him stumble back and his grip on Eddas arm loosen, which she quickly seemed to take advantage of, tearing her arm away from him.

“You okay Edda?” Arthur asked holding Eddas hand close to his chest, and holding Excalibur aimed at Simon. He wanted to hold her closer, but wasn’t sure she would be alright with him just grabbing a hold of her in the pitch darkness.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine.” Edda answered, moving to lean against him a little, the hand that was still holding the dagger hovering a little near his arm, almost as if it wanted to rest on it. “Was that the sound of bones breaking? Which of his bones did you break?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, feeling warmth from where she was leaning against him, despite her somewhat morbid question, “His nose bones.”

“Nice.” She said, and if it wasn’t for the death or life situation, Arthur would have sat down to properly bask himself in the praise that came with that single word.

But that would have to wait as Simon let out a roar, swinging his sword wildly at the darkness, which Arthur easily dodged and parried. He locked Simons sword with Excalibur, pushing the swords tip to the ground and elbowed him, again, in the face.

“What are you two doing!?” Simon shouted as he grabbed at his face, “Get the light back on for Gods sake!” And then he stabbed forward with his sword again, which would have almost grazed Eddas arm hadn’t Arthur easily slapped it away with Excalibur.

Well, he thought to himself, should probably get a move on. He carefully moved his hand from holding Eddas to instead wrap his entire arm around her waist, making sure to see if she made any protest, which she didn’t. Instead she leaned closer against him, but still being careful with how she was holding her dagger.

A pang of joy and pride filling him, Arthur parried another attack from Simon, this time using it to begin circling around him. It was almost like he was back to sword practice from when he was a kid, during those parts when they would put the young ones against each other in a sparring match, and the two would circle around each other and trade blows. And also, Simon swinging blind in the dark had about the same accuracy as a young trainee just learning to use a sword.

In a few more steps and parries they where around him, at which point Simon was positively steaming, or at least Arthur thought so, it was a little hard to see facial expressions when everyone was just a glowing shape. Either way, the bastard had been passed, now he just needed to get past the two noblemen with pikes and he and Edda would be out of there.

“Almost there, M’lady,” Arthur whispered to Edda.

Edda did not get the chance to answer though, as suddenly Arthur felt himself shrink down to a dwarf again. Which was then followed by a pike slamming in hard against his side, making him topple down hard face first to the ground, the sudden force making his grip loosen on both Edda and Excalibur.

“Arthur!” Edda shouted, followed by the sound of igniting fire... that quickly fizzled out. Edda swore loudly, and as Arthur was able to push himself up to look at her, there already was two pikes aimed at her, one forcing her back from Arthur, but one keeping her from running to the tunnel exit.

“Finally! Took you two long enough!” Simon spoke his voice horse from all the enraged shouting he’d been doing the past minute. He stepped towards them, but then suddenly froze, “Wait, is that? No, it is!” A boot came down onto Arthur’s arm, forcing him to let Excalibur go completely.

Edda let out a angry sound, trying to rush up to him, but was stopped by a hard smack to her side of her head from one of the pikes. The boot still on his hand, Arthur could only fume at what they were doing to her. Then, hearing the tell tale sound of a sword being picked up from the ground his attention was drawn to Simon, who was yet again holding Excalibur in his hand. This time however he looked at the blade in what almost looked like reverence, and then his face stretched into a wide malicious smile.

“Excalibur.” He said, “this is Excalibur.” he glanced at Arthur, “How did you- Eh no matter, You’ll be dead soon anyway.” He lifted Excalibur over his head.

“Don’t you dare!” Edda yelled, followed by the sound of metal meeting metal, and something falling to the floor. Arthur tried to move his free hand to pick up whatever it was, but couldn’t find it.

“Oh! I dare!” Simon said jubilantly, “Watch my dear princess! This is the day Prince Arthur di-“

A splurge of water suddenly erupted out of Simons mouth, splashing down onto the floor just beside Arthur. The boot on his hand lifted away as Simon stumbled back, dropping Excalibur in the process. His body was convulsing as if he needed to throw up, but instead of his insides, out of his mouth there only came water. He grabbed his throat, heaving, water now not only leaking out of his mouth but nose, and he dropped to his knees.

“Sjörå...” Said on of the noblemen, followed by what sounded like their pikes being dropped to the floor, “that’s... that’s a sjörå curse! My grandma talked about those once!”

“I thought they could only give you bad luck sailing.” The other nobleman mumbled to himself in disbelief.

Simon heaved again and more water, as well as a few green water plants splattered onto the floor.

“Huh, so I guess he was the guy who chucked the sword into the water, good riddance.” Edda said, and Arthur turned to look at her as she picked up her dagger from the ground and offered him her hand. “Let’s pick up your sword and get out of here while they’re distracted.”

“What? How?” Arthur accepted her hand, but could at the moment only feel a sort of scared confusion, especially as he turned to look at Excalibur on the ground. He took a nervous step towards it, his hand touching where the bottle charm rested on his chest.

“Oh, the sjörå does not like people throwing swords into her lake, and waters which leads to her lake, let’s just leave it at that.” Edda said, sheathing her dagger and putting her free hand on his shoulder, rubbing it in a slow soothing motion, but he could feel her twitch as another splatting sound echoed in the tunnel, and a frog started croaking and jumping over the stone ground. “Man,” she mumbled to herself, “their curses really aren’t especially pleasant.”

Arthurs hand moved to touch hers on his shoulder, and cautiously reached to grab Excalibur. His heart beat uneasily as he lifted the sword of the ground, and then... Nothing happened.

Or well, no curse happened, instead there was footsteps coming from the end of the tunnel that lead to the ballroom.

“She’s still there! Hurry up! We can still get her!”

That got both of them moving, Edda immediately pulling up Arthur from the ground, grabbing the lit torch on the wall and rushing past the noblemen who was just shaking themselves out of the shock from the sight before them. Arthur shook Excalibur at them as they passed, and they both jolted back in fear.

As Edda ran more voices started echoing in the tunnel, followed by hurried footsteps, but then the light of the moon fell over them both, as they left the tunnel behind them.

And almost ran into Snurra who was standing right outside.

“Oh! There you two are!” She said with a wide smile, giving both of them a pat on their backs, leading them away from the large opening that they had exited from, before looking up to somewhere in the distance. ”Bring it down here now! They’ve gotten out and I think I hear some people hot on their heels!”

There was a small rumbling sound as two large hairy hands came out of the dark of the woods, and promptly placed a large boulder in front of the tunnel. Snurra walked up to the rock, pushed and moved it around so it fit snuggly against the opening.

“Ah, there we go!” Snurra said brushing off her hands, “Thanks for the extra hands Stenhaka. Appreciate it.”

Arthur stared at her and the large hands receding back into the dark, utterly bewildered, and then something came and tackled Eddas leg.

“You did it magic crone lady!!!” Nini yelled absolutely beaming at the two of them, “You did it, you did it!” Before Arthur was able to reprimand her for calling Edda a crone again, she tugged at his boot, “Hey Mr Arthur! Did you she break the kings stick thing when she saved you? Like you did with that wizard?”

“Oh, uh, no.” Arthur said, letting out a small laugh, the troll child’s joy quickly rubbing off on him, “but she did burn almost the whole ballroom and break two chandeliers, so I’d say that’s... pretty much the same thing.”

“Hey, don’t forget the stuff you did,” Edda grinned at him, “You did break princess Harriet’s throne pretty impressively, and Simons nose.”

“I’m not.” Arthur hooked his arm over her shoulder, “Wait, that was princess Harriet’s throne???” Man he really hit jackpot with that one then, especially as Edda nodded at him, that wide grin still on her face.

“Cool!!!” Nini yelled, but then her focus shifted to Excalibur. “Whoa! What happened to the rock on it? Did you break it off?”

“Huh, yeah, now that you mention it.” Edda said looking down at the sword, “I think it might’ve broken off when I chucked it into the podium. And it was such a nice bludgeon weapon too.”

“Really?” Snurra said walking up to them, “rocks usually don’t just break off like that, especially when it’s stuck to something with magic.”

Arthur didn’t think to question how Snurra had known that, instead looking directly at the sword in question, holding it up in the moonlight. He had noticed that something had been different with the blade the moment he’d pulled it out. The difference the lack off stone did not really go past him, but he hadn’t actually taken the time to really think about it. The stone had broke off, and hadn’t knights tried and failed to pull it out before he had... Did that mean...?

The blade reflected the light of the moon, making it almost shine in his hand as he held it up. For the first time it didn’t feel, unbalanced, or odd, or something he had to work around in order to fight properly. It just felt... Right.

He turned to look at Edda, who smiled warmly at him. He felt himself smile back, sheathing the sword, his sword, on his back, happy with the knowledge that the petals would probably ward off any more curses from it.

“Oh.” Snurra said suddenly, her ears twitching as she turned to look away into the woods. “Looks like some people decided to take the long way around, got men on horses incoming.”

“Oh no!” Nini said, letting go off Eddas leg and giving it a push. “You need to go! Before those meanies get here!”

“Uh, yeah good idea.” Edda said, moving to turn around.

“Hold on,” Snurra said quickly walking up to them, and pulled something out of her pocket. “Take this, it’ll get you to a safe distance faster.” She held out her palm and in it rested a small acorn. “The skogsrå path is just between those two trees.” She gestured with her head.

“Ah, alright gotcha.” Edda said looking over at the trees, as Arthur reached out and accepted the acorn. “And,” she turned her head back to look at Snurra, just as Arthur pulled his hand with the acorn back to himself, recognising it as the thing the lycktgubbe had used the day prior.

“Thank you.” They both said in union.

Snurra smiled at them.

“Don’t mention it, Nini was very worried about the two of you, and honestly, she was right to be,” she shook her head, “aiding your escape was the least I can do, after all, what are friends for? Plus, if you ask me, it’s been to long since those guys have had things go wrong for them, need to keep them somewhat humble.” Her ears twitched again, and she gave them a small shove. “Now get out of here you two.”

They nodded and hurried off to open the skogsrå path, the woods twisting and shifting before them as they did. Putting the acorn into his pocket Arthur wrapped both of his arms around Edda, bracing himself for the disorienting escape.

Before they walked in they heard one last thing from Snurra.

“Feel free to write when you guys get the time! The address is on the acorn!”

They stepped into the path and everything blurred.

[somewhatunknown]

GIMME SOME ZHONGKAE ANGST PLEASE! I AM IN DESPERATE NEED. I see too many that something happens to Kaeya, I wanna see it the other way around 👀🥺👉👈💙

ZhonKae (Zhongli x Kaeya) Angst ready to be served, my friend!

Warnings: Blood, Cursing

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Pain

It is the afternoon, Zhongli had decided to take Kaeya on a walk around Liyue.

They were having a wonderful time, Zhongli was talking about random facts whilst Kaeya listened intently, eye's never leaving Zhongli.

And that's when they were ambushed.

Treasure Hoarders, about 15, surrounding them.

The bastards demanded that the duo give them everything valuable they had on them.

It was going to be a quick fight, Kaeya thought.

He and Zhongli fought side by side before, making a pretty good team. And the Hoarders interrupted his date, which is definitely a punishable crime, not to mention attempt at robbery, they deserved what was coming to them.

Zhongli had Kaeya's back, supporting the Cryo Vision user through the whole fight.

So when Kaeya failed to notice the dagger flying towards him, Obviously Zhongli jumped in front of him, having no time to activate his shield before the Dagger lodged into his abdomen.

As Kaeya turned, the world slowed.

His confident smirk suddenly dropped as Zhongli held his wound and fell to the ground in pain.

For Zhongli, pain had never been a problem as a god or Adeptus. He healed quickly back then.

But now, with this dagger in his stumach and the searing pain, he was having trouble staying focused.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

He choked back a sob as tears welled up.

Has he ever experienced pain this bad before?

Kaeya felt his blood run cold as Zhongli's face twists in pain. He'd never seen Zhongli like this before.

He ran over, although it felt like eternity getting there, and blocked someone's attack aimed at his love.

The fight ended soon after.

Kaeya dropped next to Zhongli, who was still bent over, on the ground.

"Why does it hurt so badly?" Zhongli asked as soon as Kaeya was at his side, his voice cracking. He tried his best to focus ob Kaeya's face, but the tears threatening to fall made his vision blurry.

To say Kaeya was worried was an understatement. He was fucking frightened, his eye said it all.

"You were just stabbed, Zhongli, I need you to lay on your back so I can bandage it."

"With wh-" Zhongli flinched violently when he tried shift to sit correctly, causing him more pain then moving initially caused.

Kaeya's hands hover over Zhongli as the man let out a small grunt.

Tears were starting to well up in Kaeya's eyes now. He didn't want to see Zhongli in pain.

He gently helps Zhongli lay back, trying to keep his calm as Zhongli whimpers in pain.

Kaeya quickly takes off his cape, and shirt, tearing his shirt up into long strips, hopefully long enough to hold Zhongli's wound closed until they can get help.

Zhongli tried watching was Kaeya was doing, but he felt himself growing tired.

"Kaeya-"

"Please, save your breath, my dear. And hold still." Kaeya hushes, taking his sword and cutting Zhongli's coat open and cutting the shirt open but leaving any fabric on the wound alone so the dried blood keeps Zhongli from bleeding more.

"I'm gonna pull the dagger out now."

"I'm going to pass out." Zhongli answers weakly, the pain starting to spread through his body like wildfire, it was unbearable.

"Tell me that's a joke." Kaeya gave Zhongli a nervous smile, but when Zhongli's breathing slowed, his smile fell.

"Can I do anything to keep you awake?" Kaeya was starting to shake now.

"Talk to me?"

Kaeya nods, and starts talking about his recent venture to annoy Diluc, his voice shaking and stuttering over his words.

He slowly reached his hand towards the dagger, gripping it and trying to keep his hand steady as he slowly pulls it out, stopping every once in awhile when Zhongli flinches or gasps in pain.

As soon as the dagger is out, Kaeya looks at Zhongli's face and almost starts crying because of the tears streaming down his love's face.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-" Kaeya repeated, wrapping the makeshift bandage around Zhongli's abdomen.

"Ah- fUCK-" Zhongli grit his teeth.

"I know, I'm sorry, I need to wrap it so you don't bleed out- Did you curse?" Kaeya sniffles, tying the bandage tightly.

"Not important. I think Adrenaline hit." Zhongli makes an attempt to sit up, but whinces.

Kaeya shook his head, "No, lay down. I'm gonna carry you back." He says.

Zhongli looks at Kaeya in disbelief, "We are two hours away from the Harbour, surely you can let me walk at least half of the way."

"You might pass out. I'm not taking that risk. I don't want you to hurt anymore."

It was a struggle, those two hours back to the Harbour.

Luckily, a kind old man with a cart 30 minutes away from their destination let them ride the rest of the way there.

After getting medical help and someone to examine the dagger, Kaeya learned it had a special poison on it that inflicts a searing pain on the victim, and that it's a miracle Zhongli is still awake after all this time and his wound isn't infected.

Kaeya sat next to Zhongli's bed, playing the situation over and over again.

Maybe he should have been more careful, more aware of where Zhongli was, maybe then his love wouldn't have gotten hurt.

He sat there pondering over how it even happened, sure his back was turned, but they were all after him, not Zhongli.

Zhongli stirs from his slumber, eyes blerry from sleep and he sits up almost immediately, much to Kaeya's surprise.

"Wow, pain medicine really does wonders." Kaeya mumbles.

"Ah, it hurts still. It just isn't as bad." Zhongli states, a tired expression on his face.

Kaeya shoots out of his seat and gently pushes Zhongli back down, "If it hurts, stay down. I'll call the doctors so they can-"

"No, I'd rather be alone with you for now. Join me?" Zhongli opens his arms, an invitation for cuddles with his star.

Kaeya sighs and climbs into the bed, trying to avoid touching Zhongli's abdomen.

Zhongli wraps his arms around Kaeya and plants a kiss on the Captain's head.

"Thank you for caring for me. I'm sorry for getting stabbed."

"You shouldn't appologize for that, it wasn't your fault." Kaeya mumbles.

There was a silence.

"Zhongli?"

Zhongli glances away from Kaeya, almost looking guilty.

"My love... Did you jump in front of a dagger?" Kaeya asks slowly.

Zhongli gave no answer, wondering why he couldn't bring himself to tell Kaeya and why he was feeling nervous all of a sudden.

"Why would you do that?!" Kaeya asks, disbelief in his voice as he tries to understand why someone would jump in front of a thrown dagger.

"You were about to be hit by it, I had no time to activate my shield. So I used myself." Zhongli finally answers, looking Kaeya in the eye.

Kaeya felt his heart leap. Zhongli did that for him? His love went through all that pain because of him?

"You got hurt because of me afterall.." Kaeya looks down, only to have Zhongli grab him by the cheeks and look him in the eyes.

"No. It was not your fault. While you were the reason for my action, my injury is the consequence. And I am glad that you had not gone through all that pain." Zhongli bonks their foreheads togeather.

Kaeya gives Zhongli a small smile and places a few kisses on his love's cheek, "Thank you for protecting me."

Zhongli hums.

"For you, my star, I would do anything."

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A/N: I'll be honest, I spent all day on this. Because I did not know where to go or how to end. But I hope this is to your liking!

[im-totally-not-an-alien]

Final Fantasy 7 prompts no 61

1. Hojo screwed up.

A light engulfed the Shinra tower, turning everyone inside into the opposite gender.

Genesis immediately bought different make up and had a few copies of his uniform altered because there is no way he isn't going to look his absolute best in any situation.

Sephiroth locked himself in his quarters because his outfit doesn't exactly support the existence of boobs. He's still doing paperwork. The poor bastard.

Angeal got advice from some rather flustered secretaries. He's more bothered by the situation than he's willing to admit

Zack and Kunsel took this opportunity to see what the girls bathroom was like.

2. Someone referred to Sephiroth as "Clouds big tiddied goth boyfriend"

3. Cloud can summon those wierd eldrich hellhounds from AC. He does this by saying the word "Havoc" as an attack command.

AVALANCHE soon found out that if anyone/ says that word, they'll spring up from Clouds shadow. If he isn't being actively threatened or attacked they will attack the thing that poses the greatest threat to Cloud, which usually winds up being poor Vincent.

4. Genesis finds out Shelua and Shelke are his little sisters and immediately tries to shove himself into the family dynamic

5. Ghost Aerith cutting off Sephiroths dramatic monologs with an air horn

6. Au where everything is the same but its from Ghost Zacks perspective

7. Time traveler cloud was caught on the security cameras planting something underneath the Generals office chair. Reno was dispatched, expecting to defuse a bomb.

What he found instead was an airhorn trap. The redhead left it and went back to the security room to watch the chaos unfold, only to see the very blond he had been hunting for months watching the monitor. His hand immediately went to his rod, but the blond waved him off. "We can fight later. Sit down, the firsts just entered."

Reno grinned as he watched Shinras holy trinity jump a meter and a half inter the air and he actually considered proposing to blondie right here and now. This feeling only increased when the stranger began making copies of the footage and placing them of flash drives, all the while, Genesis was talking a mile a minute, (likely cursing and threatening to roast whoever had done this alive) and Angeal inspected the trap, thinking that a certain puppy was about to get a lecture.

They fought, or course. And of course, blondie got away again. On the plus side, Reno got to keep one of the flash drives.

He likes to hack into computers near wherever Rhapsodos is and back the video appear on screen.

8. CC Cloud gets bitten by a werewolf. Hes more concerned with not being dragged off by the Turks or a scientist than the actual "being a werewolf" thing

9. Denzel and Marlene choose to race in those little toddler jeeps after Reno bought them a pair.

They were kinda miffed until they pressed down on the "gas" petal and the tiny little things rocketed off with them inside.

Cloud, Barret, and Tifa all stood there frozen before Barret took of running after his daughter.

Reno rubbed the back of his head, "Eheh. I guess I suped 'em up a little too much, huh."

Tifa cracked her knuckles, "You have five seconds to run."

10. Sephiroth returns again, descending from the sky like some kinda majestic bastard. "Cloud, I- What are you doing?"

Cloud and Genesis glared at him from the toddler jeeps they were racing. "Mind your business catboy!"

11. Time travel fuckery where Genesis uses Holy to save the world after Aerith was kidnapped.

12. Sephiroth was running out of time. His consciousness was beginning to fade and disperse through the lifestream. In one final desperate act, he tried to force Reunion by pulling out the small part of Cloud who had wanted to help Sephiroth. The part that was made to be his puppet.

It worked, but had the unfortunate side effect of shattering the blonds soul into several pieces and by extention, creating Clouds own remnants. Even worse. There's more than three.

(This is a blatant excuse to have all the different fanon versions of Cloud in the same story)

13. The Cetra Cloud au, but with a twist. He was a Cetra infected by Jenova, but didn't die. Instead he defeated her and helped his ancient kin seal her away.

Fearing that he might be a danger to the world, he asked the planet to seal him away too, keeping him on stand-by in case the world ever needed him again.

Two thousand years into the future, he is awoken by the desperate cries of the planet. The humans have found Jenova and are using pieces of her body to create super soldiers. Whats worse is that they are draining the planets lifeblood and burning it as fuel. They called it "mako"

The planet was afraid that if it awoke its weapons they might be destroyed. They were made for one powerful opponent, not thousands of adversaries. So she awoke him to destroy the humans "leach machines" and dispose of Jenova, before she can properly awaken.

14. Au were Cloud is a calamity, much like Jenova.

He crash landed in Wutai near the beginning of the Wutai war and proceeded to kill/consume anyone who challenged him. Fortunately the shape-shifting virus was still young and was rather new to his powers.

Unfortunately, he was actively hunting Jenova and Sephiroth in an attempt to kill them and claim this planet as his own territory.

The planet is hysterical, prompting Aerith to run to Tseng and tell him what she knew of the Calamity From The Skies. Tseng relays this information to the directors and the firsts, portraying it as a serious threat. The problem is that the planet doesn't know what the new viruses intentions are.

The firsts simply see this as a chance to play hero and greatly underestimate the blond only to get brutally crushed, with Sephiroth nearly dying before Genesis saved him via his limit break.

(Cloud is super evil in this btw)

Featuring: Cloud eating people, existential horror, gore, Cloud tormenting one Soldier by saying his brothers last words in said brothers voice, Cloud shapeshifting into other people and evading security problems like that, Cloud shape-shifting into Genesis and impaling Sephiroth from behind, ect.

15. "You cannot forget me Cloud. No more than you can forget Aerith or Zack, for you love me as much as you love them."

"I hate you!" The blond spat out.

The silverette shook his head, smiling as though his reaction simply amused him, "Hatred is just another form of love."

"Then I will love you as I always have." He replied as he readied his sword.

(The phase I originally came up with was "Then I will love you as I always have, with a dagger and a sneer" but it didn't fit)

[justablobfish]

Holding out in a snowstorm together/Getting snowed in together

Day 15 of my Advent Calender. A new drabble or oneshot everyday until Christmas, following the Continent’s favourite found family and what they’re up to in the winter season. Based on this prompt list

Read on AO3

Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

______

What a prick, Lambert thinks as he urges his horse to go faster. 

He has to hurry if he still wants to make it to Kaer Morhen before the mountain pass snows over. 

Who the fuck takes on a contract this close to the beginning of winter? You're supposed to find a safe place to hibernate, just like the monsters do. What point is there in tracking into the mountains and slaying a beast, that won't do anything but sleep for the next three months anyway? It'll still be there in spring, so why bother with it now? 

"It's good coin, Lambert," he can hear Aiden's voice echo in his head. 

What a moron. It's not his problem if Aiden wants to be stranded for the winter. Just because they did a few jobs together in the past couple of months Lambert doesn't owe him anything. 

Soon enough he's going to enjoy the hot springs and the crazy Cat can lie dead in a ditch for all he cares. 

It's not like Aiden had asked him to stay. Instead he'd given Lambert a choice; stay to help with the contract or head to Kaer Morhen. And Lambert had chosen the sensible option, thank you very much. 

Aiden had only shrugged and let him get on his way. 

That's the worst part of it. 

Why had he just accepted it? Why hadn't he asked Lambert to stay?

What an asshole. Lambert doesn't need him. 

Only when his horse whinnies in protest, does he realise that he's spurred her on to a gallop. He sighs and allows her to slow down and pick the pace herself. No point in taking his sour mood out on her, when Aiden is the target of his ire. 

He looks up to the sky to determine how much time he still has to make it to the place he can't quite call his home. And freezes. He’d been too busy being stuck in his own head and hadn’t noticed the weather changing. The wind has picked up and so has the soft snowfall, to the point that Lambert can’t actually see the sky anymore. If this keeps up, he’ll have a full blown blizzard on his hands soon.

There’s still enough time for Lambert to make it to the next town and find shelter. Aiden on the other hand is trailing the monster on the far side of the mountain range and won't even notice the storm until it's immediately upon him. 

But that's not his problem. Aiden hadn’t cared when Lambert left. Why should he care about Aiden's fate, then? 

"Fucking bastard," Lambert mumbles under his breath and turns his horse around. 

He still remembers what the Alderman said about the creature. It's not like he had paid attention or anything, but he was in the same room when Aiden had taken the contract. From the description it sounds a lot like a Yeti. Which means it must have a lair somewhere up in the mountains, a natural cave or cavern probably. 

The track up is risky and treacherous, Lambert remembers as much from when he hunted here in the height of summer. With the snow, it's going to be even worse, so he decides to leave his horse at the local inn's stables. It'll only hinder him in his search for the crazy Cat. 

Then he heads up the steep mountain path. 

The bad news is, the storm hits before he can find Aiden. 

The good news don't exist. Just like with every other goddamn thing in his life. 

Everything around him is white. He can barely see his own hand when he holds it in front of his face. The wind pulls on his clothes and pushes against him. More than once does he stumble over a loose rock and nearly falls down the steep cliff going down right next to the narrow path. 

There's no fucking way he'll be able to find anyone in these conditions. He might very well walk right past Aiden without seeing him. 

The smart thing to do would be to turn around and save his own hide. Aiden's a lost cause and it's his own fucking fault, anyway. 

Lambert presses on. 

The cold seems to seep into his bones and every step forward becomes a conscious effort. 

"Aiden!" he screams, but the wind tears the words from his lips and drowns them in the howling of the storm. 

Just one step in front of the other. Just a little further. Just a little bit more before he'll give up and turn back around. Just one more step. 

He barely notices when the path becomes wider. Nothing changes, except that he isn't in constant danger of falling over the edge anymore, even though the wind has become stronger still, and he barely manages to walk in a straight line. 

He almost doesn’t notice the flash of light somewhere diagonally in front of him, like a flash of fire that flares up and immediately extinguishes again. He thinks it's just a trick of his mind, at first. 

Then a large, looming shadow appears, seemingly out of nowhere, nothing but a dark outline against the contrast of the white snow swirling around him. 

Before Lambert's frozen brain can process that information, let alone attack, the shadow raises a giant paw and swipes down on something right in front of it. Lambert draws his sword and charges. 

Hidden by the storm he almost doesn't see the creature's other paw coming down on him. He throws himself into the snow at the last moment, rolls over the icy ground and comes back up standing in front of the creature's broad chest. 

Slowly, he looks up at the face hovering above him. This close he can make out more details than just a vague outline. Small beady eyes glare down at him. 

The creature draws the blackened flesh of its lip back into a snarl, revealing a giant maw full of razor sharp teeth. Foul, rotten breath washes over Lambert despite the storm's best efforts. 

One of the horns protruding from the thing's ugly visage is broken off at the base, but the other still looks sturdy and, judging by the discoloration of dried blood at the top half it, pointy enough to gore right through a person. 

He takes a swipe at the creature's chest but his sword barely scrapes through the thick fur that covers its body. 

Black goo flows out of the shallow wound and closes it up immediately. 

Several more clumps of black ichor are matted into the thing's yellowed fur here and there and as the creature raises its thick paw once again, Lambert can see a severely cinched area on its elbow. 

Aiden has gotten a few hits in, then. It must've been him, who else would have created the Igni sign Lambert saw flaring up earlier? 

So where is the bastard? 

Lambert purposefully doesn't think too much about the bright red color that’s covering the dagger-like claws of the monster and dyeing its fur a crimson hue. 

He dodges again and hacks at the burnt elbow, but other than making the creature angry, it doesn't seem to have much of an effect. 

He'll have to find a weak spot on that damn thing, and fast. He can already feel his limbs growing heavy with the cold.

"Hey, ugly!" he taunts, but the wind tears his words away once again. He can only hear the raging of the storm around him. Or maybe that's just the sound of his pounding heartbeat. 

He'll have to attack somewhere that isn't covered in fur, which means he'll have to get up close and personal with the bastard. 

Lambert draws a sigil into the snow with the tip of his sword. This time when the creature paws at him, he doesn't roll out the way, simply jumps backwards a bit. The claws get caught in his Yrden sign and the creature furiously tries to pull free. 

Lambert can feel his magic weaken already from the sheer force of the monster, but it should hold long enough for his purposes. He jumps on top of the creature's wrist and runs up the arm as fast as he can while dodging below a swipe from the other claw. 

As he reaches the shoulder, the monster swats at him like he's a bothersome mosquito. Lambert jumps before he can be flattened under the giant limb. 

He grabs onto the first thing that comes into reach and a moment later he's dangling from the intact horn. 

Not quite according to plan. And he lost his sword in an effort not to fall to his death. But he can work with this. He's been in worse situations. 

The creature opens its maw in an angry roar and throws its head to the side to shake Lambert off. 

Perfect. As he loses his grip on the horn, Lambert forms both his hands into the sign for Igni and aims at the exposed inside of the creature's throat. 

There's no time to check if he hit his mark. His next sign, Quen, flickers to life a split-second before he hits the ground hard. 

His groan as he scrambles to his feet is swallowed by the raging storm. As are his calls for Aiden. Where is the fucking Cat? The only thing he can see is the giant heap of monster fur a few feet away. It's not moving. At least that. 

Lambert stumbles to what he thinks is the spot where he saw the monster attacking Aiden earlier. He drops to his knees and frantically rifles through the snow. 

Finally, his hand brushes against something solid. He pushes more snow aside until Aiden's face comes into view. Thick snowflakes hang on his lashes and his lips have taken on a blue tint, but his chest still rises in irregular intervals. 

Aiden doesn't react when Lambert shakes him. The snow underneath him is soaked red, but with the snow constantly blowing into his face Lambert can't make out where Aiden is wounded. They'll have to find shelter. 

He drapes Aiden's arm over his shoulder and grabs him around the waist. Aiden hangs by his side like a sack of potatoes, still not stirring in the slightest. 

Lambert looks around and realizes that he has no idea anymore which way he came from. Everywhere around him is the same unforgiving white. 

He picks a direction at random and drags Aiden along with him. With his luck he'll most likely just fall over the edge of the mountain path and kill them both, but staying put isn't an option either. 

Just one step after the other. Just keep pushing forward. 

His grip on Aiden becomes slippery after a while. He rearranges the weight and tries not to think about how much blood he must have already lost. 

One more step. And another. He can do this. Just one more step. No matter how much his knees want to buckle underneath him. No matter how much he wants to give up and just become part of the ever-present snow. Just one more step. 

The storm cuts off abruptly and Lambert's ears ring from the sudden lack of deafening noise. It takes an insane effort to look up. Around him is grey stone, the inside of a cave. The color of the rock seems to be the most vibrant thing he's ever seen compared to all the snow outside. 

Tufts of white-ish fur stick to the walls here and there and there's a small pile of bones stacked in the far corner. He must have stumbled upon the monster's lair by accident. 

He drags Aiden's lifeless body a little further inside before he drops him carelessly to the ground and falls to his knees next to him. 

It's still bitterly cold in the cave but at least they're mostly protected from the biting winds here. 

He leans down next to Aiden and finally manages to make out the wound. The monster's claws have cut deeply into his shoulder and scratched over his chest. Blood oozes out of it sluggishly. The cold has probably kept him from dying of blood loss so far, but that won't help him survive if he freezes to death instead. 

Lambert drops his bag to the floor and takes out his medical equipment, then goes about stitching the wound up and wrapping it in bandages. 

A red spot immediately forms on the wound dressings around the deepest part of the gash. He's not certain that Aiden will heal fast enough, even with his enhanced Witcher abilities. Despite Lambert's best efforts, Aiden might not make it through the night. 

"If you die on me, after all this trouble I went through," he threatens, "I will drag you out of hell and kick your ass right back to oblivion." 

The only response Lambert gets is that his own teeth start to chatter. 

He'll have to do something against the cold. Good thing he still has some Summer's Kiss potions with him. That'll warm them until the stupid storm is over and they can head back to the village. 

He rifles through his bag once more and pulls out one of the flasks with the bright orange liquid inside. 

Then he goes searching for the other. His fist closes around the neck of the bottle and his hand shoots upwards. 

Something's wrong. The potion is too light. 

He examines what he produced from his bag. Below his fist the bottle neck ends in sharp edges. 

Broken. The second bottle broke and leaked the potion into his bag. 

It must have happened when he dodged the monster's attacks and rolled over the frozen ground to regain his balance. 

Lambert stares at the sad piece in his hand for a full minute, as if the concoction would magically reappear if he only waited long enough. 

Finally, he curses and throws the shard away before carefully turning his bag inside out. A few more bottles are broken and he's left with two Cats and some Black Blood. Nothing that will even remotely help him in this situation. Then again, he already knew that he only had two Summer's Kiss left. 

He grabs the intact potion and turns back to Aiden. His face is sickly pale and his lips are more purple than blue now. He's close to freezing to death. 

Lambert kneels down and pulls Aiden's head into his lap. Then he feeds him the potion, bit by bit. 

That's all he can do for now, though. There's no fire wood or anything else to maintain a flame and going back out into the storm is definitely out of the question. It's a miracle he found the cave in the first place, he'll never make it back in the blizzard. 

So he sits down with crossed legs and watches the slow rise and fall of Aiden's chest. 

Lambert usually struggles with meditation, but today, for some reason, his mind drifts away momentarily. It's just so much easier not to move anymore. To just let his aching limbs rest… 

"… bert…" 

"...leave me…"

"Lambert, wake up!" 

"Woah!" 

Lambert tears his eyes open, breaking the thin layer of frost that has formed on them. The first thing he sees once his eyes adjust to the dim light is Aiden staring back at him. 

He's still lying on the ground where Lambert left him, arm reached out in his direction, and his face is still far too pale for Lambert's liking, but he's awake. That's more than Lambert could have hoped for. 

"N-n-n-no need to yell at me," he snaps back, his chattering teeth taking away the edge of his annoyance. "W-w-what do you want? Go back to s-sleep". 

The storm is still raging outside but now there's even less sunlight coming through. It must be getting close to dusk. How long was he out for? 

He should definitely check on Aiden's bandages, see if he needs to redo them. But the idea of moving seems like such an enormous effort. He'll just rest for another five minutes. Yeah, that's a good plan. His eyes slowly drop closed again. 

"Lambert! Stay with me you idiot!" Aiden snarls. 

"What?" Lambert shouts back. "L-leave me alone!" 

He opens his eyes once more and watches a number of different emotions pass over Aiden's face, too quick to follow. He'd almost say there's concern in the mix, but that would be silly. He's not the one who almost bled out today. 

"Lambert," Aiden repeats, now in a whiny tone. He still manages to sound teasing, though. 

"What d-do you want, Cat?" Lambert grunts, annoyed. 

"I'm cold," he replies with a pout. 

"You have got to be k-kidding me," Lambert deadpans. "I gave you a p-potion!" 

"Must be some weak ass shit you brewed together if I'm already freezing again," Aiden grins. 

"W-weak?" he huffs in indignation and jumps to his feet. "Ungrateful piece of shit! And what do you want m-me to do about it?" 

"Come cuddle with me!" Aiden demands and bats his eyelashes. 

"H-hell no!" Lambert returns and crosses his arms over his chest. "I don't cuddle." 

"But I'm oh so c-c-cold," Aiden taunts, his smirk growing wider. "Don't you want to keep me from freezing?" 

"Urgh," Lambert groans as he drops down next to Aiden, who wraps his uninjured arm around his waist and pulls him closer. 

"How can you be cold?" Lambert complains. "You're like a furnace! My potion is working fine!" 

"Stop wiggling!" Aiden orders. "You're such a baby!" 

"My legs are tingling," he snaps back. "You try to hold still after your legs fall asleep!" 

"Thank the gods," Aiden mumbles under his breath. 

"What?" Lambert huffs. 

"Nothing," Aiden sighs. "Just stay close, alright?" 

"This never happened," Lambert bites back. "He's cold, he says. Needy bastard." 

Soon enough, sleep overcomes him. There's little to do but wait, after all, and the warm weight at his back is far more comforting than he'd ever admit. 

When he wakes up next there's bright, unfiltered light shining in from the entrance of the cave. The storm has passed over night. 

The weight of an arm draped over his waist is gone, though. Alarmed, Lambert sits up. 

Aiden is kneeling in the far corner of the room, re-bandaging his wound. 

"Morning, sunshine," he greets with his ever-present smirk. "Missing my sweet embrace already?" 

"Fuck off," Lambert growls and gets up to stretch his aching limbs. 

"What happened to the monster, by the way?" Aiden prompts conversationally. "The Alderman wants proof of death or he won't pay." 

"Are you insane?" Lambert yells, his patience finally gone for good. "Why are you so obsessed with this? You nearly died and for what? You could've just waited till spring! Nobody takes a contract that late in the year!" 

"Nobody survives the winter with an empty purse," Aiden returns, suddenly serious and without looking up from where he's packing Lambert's medical kit back together. "There's no place to stay for a Cat. Not like you have." 

Lambert just gapes at him, open mouth and all. 

"You risked your life because you're broke?" he manages finally. "Why didn't you say something?" 

Aiden is still not looking at him. He's done packing the little medical bag, but he's fidgeting with the buttons. 

"Careful now, Wolf," Aiden teases. "One could almost get the idea that you care about me." 

"Certainly not," Lambert huffs. "Anyway, next year you're coming with me to Kaer Morhen. I'm not running after your sorry ass again!"