#I for one am not particularly worried about getting one over my old rival Sir Watkyn Basset....

[the-busy-ghost]

Has Tom Travers discovered the internet 👀

[fallenfurther]

Rival

Happy Thunderbirds Day!!

I thought I would post a little bit of fluff to celebrate (Though I did wear Thunderbird 1 and 3 on my lanyard at work :D ) and get in there before the Whumptober posts start.

This is a little something that I found out the blue having forgotten I'd written half a fic with @selene-tempest in it. She's not demanded much for a while but this one needed to be finished. Enjoy!

**********

John stepped in time with the music, one hand on the hip of the most gorgeous woman in the room. His other hand was in hers which he raised high so she could twist beneath it. The edge of her black and deep purple dress brushed against his trousers as she turned. The lighting in the ballroom was perfect, as expected from the old English mansion. Penelope would never throw an event that didn't pass muster. All his family was somewhere nearby, either dancing with guests or snatching up as many of the canapés as they could. For once, John was able to enjoy the evening, with Selene he could happily dance the night away, avoiding small talk with most of the guests. The last time he'd been forced to come he'd been told the life stories of seven different people with no interest placed on his own. Though John should have expected to have a rival for his wife's attention. So far he'd managed to steer clear of him, but as the pool of women he hadn't danced with reduced, it was only a matter of time. John let his eyes dart around the room, scouting him out.

"Who are you looking for?"

John gave Selene a guilty grin; she knew him too well. Before he could answer a hand fell on John's leg. His rival didn't even reach his hip and dressed in a slightly ruffled black suit, he seemed irresistible to women. With his sparkling blue eyes and dimples, he was a favourite at the party.

"My turn. Dance with me, Selene!"

John glanced down at his nephew. Scott, as Selene's best friend, could wrangle many favours out of her, but his son was twice as bad.

"I'm dancing with Selene right now"

Those blue eyes turned to glare at him.

"No, it's my turn."

The little hand started to push on John's leg. Did the child really think he could push his way between him and Selene? John turned to Selene, who was smirking at the situation. Thankfully, she held her ground.

"I'm dancing with John right now. I'll dance with you later."

That little lip puckered even more.

"No."

Suddenly the pressure on John's leg was gone and the child was in the air.

"I told you to leave them alone."

Scott held the mini-version of himself to his face. In matching suits no one could doubt who the child's father was.

"My turn to dance with Selene."

"And she said not now."

The boy struggled in his father's arms, obviously wanting to be put down so he could continue his attempt to barge between his aunt and uncle.

"Come on, I don't think you've danced with Mrs Langley yet and she's free."

Scott carried the child away with a hand waving toward a friendly older lady that often frequented Lady Penelope's balls. If John remembered correctly she had two sons who were both married but had no grandchildren. She would fall head over heels for the youngest Tracy.

"You'll have to let him dance with me at some point."

John gazed into his wife's eyes as they started to move around the floor again. He wouldn't have minded giving the boy a dance, if dancing with Selene wasn't the best part of being at the event.

"All I have to do is delay it long enough for him to get tired and go to bed."

John slipped his hand around her waist and stepped in closer. His heart rate increased at the contact and a sly grin crossed his face. Selene grinned as their eyes locked.

"I know exactly what you're thinking."

They pressed their lips together, a little longer than appropriate for the setting, but John was past caring. They stayed close for the next dance, energy buzzing between their bodies. Only twenty three minutes until it would be socially acceptable to leave. Penelope had offered them a guest room but they had declined, preferring to head back to London and Selene's cosy little flat. Her car was outside and John had stayed away from the champagne that floated around the room in the hands of the most experienced wait staff. All he had to do was wait.

"I need a drink."

Selene kissed John's cheek before she twisted and sauntered away. Hastening after her, John scouted the room for his nephew. He stood beside Selene as she leant on the bar, asking for her favourite cocktail.

"Oh, you must be John Tracy."

John turned slowly, plastering a smile on his face instead of groaning. The speaker was a tall beanpole of a man, with neat silver hair and a thin hand outstretched. Respecting social convention, John shook the offered hand.

"I am indeed, and you are?"

"Sir Henry Tumblewood."

"Pleasant to meet you, Sir Tumblewood. Have you met my wife, Selene, yet?"

John twisted so his back was against the bar, revealing Selene and bringing her into the conversation.

"Hello fair lady, pleasure to meet you. I am Sir Henry Tumblewood."

John caught Selene's eyes flick at him as she fought a laugh. It appeared Sir Tumblewood would have fitted in well a few hundred years ago. Selene smiled as she took the man's hand to shake it, however Sir Tumblewood twisted it and started to bow down, lips pursed. Thankfully the man's grip on Selene wasn't too strong as she whipped her hand away, shaking it slightly before her fingers wrapped around the glass again. Sir Tumblewood rose with elegance while his previously soft eyes gave Selene a stern gaze. The witch just raised an eyebrow in challenge as she sipped her drink. The aristocrat appeared only slightly disgruntled at her response, making John suspect she wasn't the first to decline his graces. Unfortunately for John, the man turned straight back to him.

"You were just the Tracy I was hoping to meet. You see, I've always had a passion for the sky; you should see my collection of vintage meteorology instruments. I have the most wonderful selection of barometers and a few very unique pyranometers, but I digress. While I have been enjoying my retirement, I need a little something to keep myself busy. I'd like to study the mesosphere, and maybe branch a little into the thermosphere, and seeing as you probably know a lot about that area, I thought you'd be the right person to ask for advice."

"I don't agree with your logic there, though studying the mesosphere and thermosphere are tricky and would require significant funds."

"Do not worry yourself about funds, my dear boy, I have more than enough. Despite coming from old money, I made some good investments in my early years which has allowed that wealth to increase significantly."

John wanted to finish the conversation and his eyes glanced at his wife and her drink, which was still half full. A dance had just started so he might be able to convince her to join the next one. John just had to find a way to politely excuse himself.

"Well, I do know of a few companies who are…"

"I don't want to invest in companies! I've done enough of that. I want to build a rocket that will take the equipment up into the mesosphere."

Sir Tumblewood's voice had sharpened and he was clearly offended at John's most reasonable suggestion. Did this man not know of the many rules and regulations there were regarding research into that part of the atmosphere? A rocket or significant vessel, as he was suggesting, would need so many permissions and inspections before being allowed to launch. Despite his frustrations, John put on his best tone to try and calm the man.

"Sir, I didn't mean to offend you, however the legislation around sending rockets and similar devices up into the mesosphere would make it extremely difficult for you…"

"I have a friend who has done it. He's already advised me on the licences I will require and even allowed me to survey his previous designs..."

John didn't like being interrupted, particularly by someone who wanted his help but didn't respect his opinion when it was given. He could already tell this conversation was going to go nowhere. John was only half listening to Sir Tumblewood's drabbles as he turned to Selene. His heart dropped as a small figure raced towards them.

"Selene!!"

The cry made everyone around them turn, and even Sir Tumblewood paused, as his nephew flung himself into Selene's legs. That small face gazed up, surrounded by the fabric of her dress with sparkling hopeful eyes.

"Dance with me, Selene."

Scott appeared, having briskly followed after the boy.

"Oh my, isn't he just the most handsome little thing!"

A well dressed lady had appeared on Sir Tumblewood's arm, her pleasant weathered face betraying her age.

"Please, Selene."

John gazed down at the boy, knowing he was about to watch his wife be led onto the dancefloor, leaving him to converse with Sir Tumblewood without backup. Both Selene and Scott were about to speak when the lady beat them to it.

"Go on, dear, give the lad a dance. He's smitten with you."

"It's actually getting close to his bedtime."

Scott tried to explain, crouching down to his son's level. John’s brother placed his hand on the child's shoulder, bringing himself into the child's focus.

"It's bedtime."

"Noooo!"

A small lip puckered as fists clenched the fabric of Selene's dress.

"Come on."

His nephew shook his head and pressed his little body into Selene's legs. Scott gently encouraged he's son to let go, though it wasn't having much effect. Selene's cocktail was suddenly being held before him, and John just took it. There was only one way out of the situation without causing a scene.

"One last dance with Auntie Selene, okay? Then Daddy's going to take you upstairs to bed."

A wide dimpled grin radiated up at her and a hand stretched out asking for hers. Selene accepted the small hand in hers and was slowly led away. Scott stood and took Selene's place beside John as the pair started to dance before them.

"Isn't that just the sweetest thing?"

John caught Scott shaking his head out the corner of his eye, the man's gaze firmly on his child. Selene had to bend over so she could hold her nephew's hands, and John couldn't help but smile as the pair grinned at each other. The boy bounced around, forcing Selene to turn in circles, though he started to slow down very quickly.

"Now, Mr John Tracy, we were discussing the project and the legislation around it. Like I said, my friend has informed me of the licenses I will require and I was wondering if you could offer some suggestions on the matter of design. I've seen a few of my friend's, and they are extravagant to say the least, however they did pass muster and showed some success…"

John forced himself to listen, keeping one eye on the dancing pair. It appeared the night really was catching up with his nephew. After his pace had slowed, Selene had scooped him up and danced with him in her arms. They pair swayed together happily while Sir Tumblewood babbled on at John.

"Excuse me for barging in," Scott's voice was full of authority, though John hadn't realised he was listening, "this friend of yours sounds a lot like Langstrom Fischler."

"You know Mr Fischler?"

Sir Tumblewood brightened up at the mention of the name. It appeared Scott was on the money.

"I do, in a professional manner. That man's designs are world renowned for being poorly designed and a safety risk to anyone onboard or in the vicinity. If you are unwilling to listen to my brother, and prefer Mr Fischler’s guidance, then I can assure you your endeavours will be in vain."

"I beg your pardon! Mr Fischler is the son of a good friend of mine, a friend whose reputation is infallible."

"I'm sure your friend has a spotless reputation, but I am informing you that his son does not share that reputation."

Selene returned with a content young man in her arms. Their nephew's head was resting against her shoulder, the late evening obviously catching up with him.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to my son."

Scott held out his arms to his child, who turned back to Selene and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Love you, Selene."

"I love you too, sweetie."

A hug later and the boy was in his father's arms, displaying his teeth with the biggest yawn John had ever seen him do. John checked his watch as he passed Selene her cocktail back. She sipped it gratefully. John slid his hand behind her so it was on the small of her back.

"Have you enough energy for one last dance before I chauffeur you back to London?"

"I do."

John kissed her, before turning back to Sir Tumblewood.

"You'll have to excuse me, Sir, my presence is required on the dancefloor. Have a pleasant rest of the evening."

Selene slid her empty glass onto the bar before looping her arm in John's. Just ahead of them Scott turned.

"See you two back at the island. Have fun."

His brother gave them a cheeky grin and a wink, which John let slide as a small hand waved goodbye.

"Bye, bye."

Scott headed over to the mirrored wall where Penelope and Gordon were standing, deep in conversation with some of the other attendees. It would be rude to leave without thanking the host, and John would be doing just the same in a few minutes. As they stepped into the dancers, the music slowed and gave time for people to change partners before the next dance began. They didn't go too far onto the floor before turning to face each other. John guided Selene in close, stealing a kiss before the dance started. They swayed slowly, eyes on each other, enjoying the moment but also eager to head back to Camden for some privacy.

[acaseofthewiggins]

Reverse Charge Call (Giles/Ethan)

Summary: After the incident with Eyghon, Rupert's back with his parents and has almost got his life back on track. And then he gets a call from Ethan.

Length: 1637 words

Also available on AO3 here.

This is based on a prompt from left_handed_moth, who’s no longer even on Tumblr that’s how long ago I got it. Better late than never? Anyway the prompt was “things you said over the phone” + Giles/Ethan.

----

“Yeah? Er, that is, Giles residence, Rupert speaking.”

 “Good afternoon, sir. This is Miriam from the telephone company. Will you accept a reverse charge call from an… Ethan Rayne?”

“%*@#$!”

 “I’m sorry, sir?”

“Yes, yes. Put him through.”

 “Hello, Ripper.”

“My name is Rupert. And I thought I told you not to call me here.”

 “It’s nice to hear your voice too. Not sure about the new accent, though. Can’t say that it suits you.”

“This is my real accent.”

 “Still doesn’t suit you.”

“Why are you calling, Ethan? I thought we agreed to keep our distance while we sorted our lives out.”

 “As I remember, most of the agreeing was on one side.”

“A-and I’m quite certain that I’m not in the mood to have this conversation again. I’ve got a lot of studying to do—”

 “Oh? Back in uni already?”

“No. Though, if all goes well, I should be by Michaelmas term.”

 “Michaelmas term? Oxford, then? Only they’d be too snobby to just say ‘autumn.’ I wonder, have your posh old school chums missed you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I imagine some have moved on by now. It’s been several years. And, as for those who are still there, I imagine they’ve more or less forgotten about me.”

 “Yeah, easy enough, isn’t it? Making new friends and forgetting old ones? You were struggling with it when we first met, but you’ve always been such a quick study.”

“I wasn’t planning on forgetting you, Ethan. I’ll be out of London for a few years, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still meet occasionally.”

 “Oh, yes. I can just see it. You, me, and your fancy Oxford mates… No? Maybe something more like this: you call, I bus up to Oxford, we meet in some towny bar where you don’t run too much risk of being seen by anyone you know. Or, if that’s still too much for you, you can always pop down to London during a school break, meet me in some dive, and finish up the evening by buggering me in a filthy alley—”

“Ethan! I am at my parents’!”

 “Ah yes, and how are the ‘stodgy old hypocrites’ now anyway?”

“My parents are fine. Now—”

 “Remember when you took that scabies-infested slag home for Christmas, just to piss them off? Now that was a laugh.”

“The look on their faces was—Er. Th-that is to say, it wasn’t particularly funny in the end. It took Mum months to get rid of the infestation.”

 “Come now, you laughed harder than any of us when you told that story.

The funny thing is though, you never had to pick up some twat. You could have taken me up on my offer. Scabies may itch, but I could have really gotten under their skin.”

“...”

 “Oh. Bad choice of words. Does your mark ever bother you? Mine does sometimes. Prickles in the middle of the night, keeping me awake. And then I’ll start thinking about what it was like. When he was inside us. That feeling of freedom. All the worry and pain, just sliding away. It’s enough for me to almost want him back. Even remembering—”

“Yes. Well, I do have quite a lot of studying to do, so if there’s nothing else…”

 “Wait! I didn’t call just to catch up.”

“What do you want?”

 “I wasn’t lying when I said I was happy to hear your voice. But the thing is… I’m in a spot of trouble.”

“Ah. And what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

 “Mmm, nothing much. A slight complication. I’d agreed to do a job for a clan of Kelroth demons. Just a spot of chaos magic. Meant to make the members of the rival clan lose all their hair. No small feat considering how the buggers are covered in the stuff.”

“So your spell failed?”

 “Oh, it worked perfectly. A little too well really.”

“It affected all of them didn’t it?”

 “Both clans, yes. And you how vain the Kelroth are about their hair. Now that I’ve seen what’s underneath, I can understand why.”

“Ah. And now the Kelroth want their money back? Money which you, of course, no longer have?”

 “Er, yes. Plus extra for ‘loss of dignity.’ Really, I can’t see why I should be blamed for the vagrancies of chaos magic.”

“Why indeed? Honestly, Ethan, don’t you think a little more caution would be warranted? Kelroth demons are notoriously hot-tempered and chaos magic is—”

“Dangerous? Unpredictable? You might be able to afford caution. You’ve got your parents and your destiny to fall back on. But me? At least Janus won’t turn his back on me. I’m not even sure if that’s even possible given his two-sided nature.”

“You’re worshiping Janus now? Have you completely lost your mind? When did this start?”

 “A few months ago. I didn’t have you or the others to back me up anymore. I needed power, and Janus offers plenty to his worshipers.”

“And mental instability and early death.”

 “I’m touched by your concern. Really. It’d be a little more believable if you hadn’t vanished the instant things got difficult.”

“I told you. I needed some time to see my parents, a-and get my life sorted. That didn’t give you the right to start worshiping chaos.”

“The right? And you’re the authority on what I have the ‘right’ to do?”

“That’s not what I meant. But… you can’t seriously think that Janus is the answer.”

“What I think is that, if I don’t get the Kelroth their money, they’re going to tear my fingers out one by one and give them to their spawn for teething toys.”

“And how much money are we discussing here?”

 “Well, the advance was around three hundred quid—”

“Three hundred?! That is, no. I’m sorry, Ethan. I can’t.”

 “Why not? Your family’s not exactly short on dosh.”

“My family. Not me. And I can’t ask them for money, not after everything I’ve already put them through.”

 “There must be something you can do.”

“No, but maybe there’s something you can do. Leave Janus behind. Find a more legitimate use for your gifts. Th-the council maybe. They could always use a sorcerer of your talents. They’d protect you. My word may not count for much with them right now, but maybe if I could convince my father to vouch for you—Don’t laugh, this isn’t a joke!”

 “Your father? Hah, well you’ve got to admit it’s a bit funny. You weren’t willing to take me to your parents even to piss them off.”

“This is different.”

 “Yes. It certainly is. Tell me. How exactly would you introduce me to your father?”

“As a friend. And a competent mage.”

 “Right. I’d rather take my chances with the Kelroth.”

“Of course. Why should I expect anything else from you?”

 “Look, Ripper. Surely everything we’ve been through together is worth a couple hundred quid?”

“It’s Rupert. And everything I own doesn’t add up to more than a few hundred. Look, Ethan—”

 “Hmm. Well, I wonder how your dear Mummy and Daddy would respond if I were to turn up at your doorstep.”

“What?”

 “Oh, just imagine the chaos I can make. Not to mention all the things I could tell them. Some of which I’m sure you didn’t mention when you pulled your prodigal son routine.”

“Oh. I see.”

 “I can think of a few particularly juicy anecdotes right now. For example, there was the night we started at the King’s Head and ended in the rubbish dump—”

“Ethan, stop. I’d been about to say, before you tried to blackmail me, that I can try to get your money. But it won’t be easy. You said 300 pounds?”

 “Er, better make that an even 500. I’ll need a little extra, don’t-rip-out-my-extremities money.”

“500? Jesus, Ethan.”

 “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious, you know that. It’s just, you should see how angry this lot is and—”

“Shut up. I’m thinking. My father keeps too close of an eye on the books and artifacts. But my nan collected a lot of stuff on her travels that hasn’t seen the light of day in decades. I bet I could nick some of her things and fence them downtown without anyone being the wiser. … Er, that is, items that aren’t too dangerous to put on the market.”

 “I knew I could count on you, Ripper old chap.”

“It’s Rupert! Ripper was an idiotic nickname from the worst part of my life. And I won’t be called by it.”

 “The worst? You can’t mean—”

“How can I not mean it?! Randall died, Ethan. Have you already forgotten, or do you just not care?”

 “…”

“I’ll get you your 500 pounds. But on one condition.”

 “That I’ll get on the straight and narrow and never touch another drop of chaos magic as long as I live?”

“No. We both know you’ll keep looking for your next thrill till it kills you.”

 “And you’re any different?”

“I bloody-well am! … Or at least, I’m trying to be.”

 “What then?”

“Give me one week to get your money. And after... You will leave me alone. You will not call, you will not scry, you will not write. You will not happen to run into me on the street or turn up suddenly on my door. Our association will be over.”

 “But, surely there must be some way we can still be—”

“Be what, Ethan? We’re… we’re not on the same path anymore.”

 “I just… don’t want to lose you too.”

“Then don’t make me steal from my family. Tell me you’ll get the money some other way.”

 “…”

“I thought not. Give me a week. I’ll contact you through the old channels when I have the money. Now, is there anything else?”

 “No. No, I suppose there isn’t.”

“Fine. Goodbye, Ethan.”

 “Goodbye. Rupert.”

[purple-scarf-mistress]

Dark Truths

A Criminal Minds FanFic. 

Chapter 2

Summary: Jamie has been missing for a year, subjected to horrible torture. Her friends/team/family aka the BAU team scramble to find her. Once she is found it will be a challenge to help her get back to her normal life.  Master List (Multi Chapter)  Pairing:  ReidxJamie (OC) Warnings: This story is explicit and deals with s*xual assault and psychological torture.  I will add notes for where to skip and pick back up to for those who want to read this but avoid the warning content. 

June 3

Jamie clenched her teeth to avoid screaming. She was already paying for making noise when she was not asked to. It was one of the rules she was told to follow, even though her captors made it nearly impossible to follow a single one. She couldn't hear what the men around her were saying, she was becoming dizzy from pain as they beat her and called her names. She felt her ankle snap, biting down hard on her lip to keep from screaming out at the excruciating pain. The world around her began to spin before it all went black.

July 1st :

Hotch had everyone gather so they could review the new evidence they had collected. They couldn't be certain if it had anything to do with their long lost friend but they were working with it.

"The phone number that called Reid that night was made from an Irish pub about 5 miles away from here." Penelope said as she pulled up pictures of the pub, "I did some digging and looked into the visitors that frequent the pub and found that a good 90% of them have ties to the Irish mafia, or mob, or whatever you want to call the Irish bad guys. I am not sure what that has to do with Jamie unless they just randomly picked her for …" Garcia trailed off mentally kicking herself because they didn't know what they were doing to her, or what they had done with her.

Rossi cleared his throat taking over the conversation before the team could lose themselves in what-if scenarios. "The Irish Mafia, like many other organized crime groups, has a long history in grudges, robbery, assault, drugs, prostitution, illegal pornography, human trafficking, and murder. The Irish mafia and the Italian Mafia do not particularly get along and I might be able to call some people I know to see if they have any idea as to what's going on with their rival."

"I don't see why they would target Jamie…we haven't come across these people ever, as far back as I can see Jamie hasn't either in her personal life, what's the connection here? " asked JJ who was getting frustrated.

Hotch pulled out a file handing it over to them. He knew this held sensitive information that he should have guessed was connected with his baby girls' disappearance. "This was my very first murder case as a detective, in it has every detail on how I met Jamie McConnell." Looking around the room Hotch saw a lot of different emotions staring back at him.

"Jamie McConnell?" Reid asked dumbfounded looking through the file first. He pulled out photos of a man and woman, both dead, both with obvious signs of torture; behind the rest of the crime photographs, which he passed around the table, was a document.

He started reading out loud "Deckland and Mary McConnell were found murdered in their Los Angeles home on August 12th 1997. The way the bodies were found match other bodies similar to those that were killed by members of the Irish Mob. Upon looking through the house detective Aaron Hotchner found a young child. The child was determined to be Jamie McConnell, age 5, daughter of the deceased. It was estimated that by the time detectives had arrived on scene they victims had been deceased for three days. It was later confirmed that the child had stayed in the closet during the duration of the murder and the days after. The child will be placed in a foster home with a new surname for protection."

The room was silent as the agents mulled over the new information on their friend. Every person remembering how Jamie never talked about her parents and didn't really talk all that much about her foster families either. In fact, when the topic of the family was brought up Jamie simply skirted the topic or talked about the Hotchners.

"So, we have a lead with some actual evidence." Stated Morgan "Now let's find our girl, kick some ass and bring her home."

It had been a long day. Jamie felt numb and exhausted; she craved the cool, damp corner of her dark cell where she some sometimes was allowed to sleep. Instead, her captors carted Jamie to different "parties" where she would entertain them however her boss ordered her. She noticed what they dressed her in today was red, white, and blue and assumed it was some patriotic holiday today, probably the fourth of July but she didn't ask. She had given up asking questions or talking without permission… hell making any sort of noise without permission. She could still hardly walk from her last bought of punishment where they broke her ankle. Jamie was so tired, her body craved both sleep and the cocktail of drugs they had shot her up with so many times. She fought her body hard to stay awake as they drove to their next location, but she kept nodding off.

"Someone call the boss. She isn't going to make it the full day out... Let's give her a few hours rest, give her the shot, and clean her up." He chuckled "We won't want a crashing, dirty girl for our party tonight." She heard the man say.

She knew this man well. Knew everything he liked and everything he disliked. She knew how he enjoyed punishing her in all sorts of ways. She even knew that for this kindness he was giving to her, a slave, she would have to pay. The price for this would be high but she needed it. She would pay whatever he asked of her later so long as she could have one hour of quiet sleep, where no one was touching her.

"Hey Hotch, we have a problem" Jamie started shaking hearing that name. "The chick is crashing, I don't think another injection is going to keep her up right now and it could kill her if we give her it now. Quinn thinks we should let her catch some sleep so she is ready to entertain them later."

Jamie's heart started to race. She had grown to fear the man on the other end of the phone. The one who was responsible for all her pain, she couldn't argue it anymore, couldn't fight to not believe it, her dad was doing this to her. She pulled her knees up to her chest trying to calm down till she hears the man in the front seat start talking again.

"Yes sir." He hung up "were taking her back to the factory for some rest. Hotch says that we can let her sleep for a little while, clean her up, and have our own fun later. She earned enough money for him this morning."

When the car parked at the factory Jamie got out and slowly walked inside with Quinn. He led her to her cell, stripped her out of her "work clothes" and put her back into her usual old tattered shirt and panties. Once she was dressed for bed he pushed her hard into the ground, watching her weak body crash into the cement.

"Sleep. You have two hours, then you’re up and with us." He watched Jamie crawl into the corner before bedding down and gabbing her hair, yanking her head back to him, he kissed her cheek "Happy Independence Day" Quinn laughed as we walked out of the room, locking her in the dark.

It had been 3 days since they learned about his dear friend's true history. Since then it all became clear. They had quickly narrowed down where they believed Jamie was being held with the aid of Rossi's Italian contacts. The team took the jet to New York City and split up in groups of two at three possible locations where they might find their friend. Spencer sat at the window watching the old abandoned factory. A dark tinted SUV pulled up across the street at the factory he was watching pulling Reid from his thoughts.

"Morgan!" he called to his friend to come to see. He watched as the driver and passenger got out of the car, followed by the people in the back seat. Morgan and Reid watched them intently, making sure to snap pictures of the men. The two found it hard to believe what they were seeing; the fourth person was a girl wearing some skimpy Fourth of July attire. The girl looked weak as she walked getting pulled along by the man they would eventually know as Quinn, there wasn't a doubt in either of the men's minds. They found her.

"Jamie…" Spencer whispered so quietly to himself before grabbing his phone calling Garcia while Morgan took more pictures "Garcia! Call everyone else! We have eyes on Jamie! Get them on the line now!"

Penelope was so excited that her friend was really alive, that they were going to get her, that even as quickly as she connected everyone it didn't seem fast enough.

"Got them! I got them! Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, and JJ you are connected to Reid and Morgan and me!"

"Guys! We found her! She is here! They just walked her inside the factory!" Reid said, his voice climbing higher as he was anxious.

Hotch spoke quickly, "Everyone gets there as soon as you can. Reid, Morgan you are not to enter until we get there and create a plan." He hung up before anyone else could argue. Grabbing his gun and his bulletproof vest he quickly made his way to the car with Rossi in tow.

"Ready to get your baby girl back?" asked Rossi trying to get Hotch to talk.

"More than ready. I want her home. I want her home tonight!" he took off when they were both in the car. Diving quickly to the apartments where Reid and Morgan had been placed.

Prentiss drove quickly as well, only slowing as they neared the location so that they would not attack attention. Taking a deep breath she looked at JJ "ready?"

JJ only nodded in response. She was worried about what state they would find her friend. She knew that getting her back was only the first half of the battle, the second half would be dealing with the psychological and physical damage that the youngest member of the team had sustained during her year in captivity.

JJ and Prentiss walked up the stairs and joined the rest of the team. They heard Garcia on the phone going over the blueprints of the old factory.

"When we enter, the likelihood that we will arrest everyone if anyone at all will be very small. There are two many exits. The goal here is to get Jamie out safely. We will find these people again later if we don't get them now and get Jamie the justice she deserves." Said Hotch.

Rossi looked out the window at the factory, "It would be better for us to go in when it's dark, so long as they don't take her anywhere. Someone should be watching for that at all times."

Morgan nodded taking up a post at the window while he listened to the rest of the group plan how they would enter and sweep the building. When the planning was done all they could do was wait. Hotch sat sating at the pictures that Morgan had taken of his baby. Seeing her dressed the way she was made Hotch's stomach churn. It was not something Jamie, his baby, would ever have chosen to wear on her own.

The other three agents went about filling their time in the best way they could, trying to sleep though it was hard to do. Spencer, who knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, sat in a chair reading a book he had carried with him since Jamie had been taken. She had bought it for him to read because it was one of her favorites and she desperately wanted someone to share in it with her. Whenever he missed her he read this book, and if he was honest, he missed her every seconded that she had been gone. So pretty much any of his free time was spent with reading this book over and over again so that when he got the chance they could talk about it as much as she wanted.

 Quinn checked the time as he smiled to himself; it was time to wake her. He grabbed a syringe full of methamphetamine and walked to her cell. He laughed to himself, looking at her huddled up on the floor, she truly was pathetic to him and he really enjoyed making her life hell. For no reason at all. Squatting down beside her, he took her arm, found a vein, and shot her up fast.

Jamie's eyes shot open, her heart beat faster and her lungs were working overtime. Her eyes hesitantly looked up to look at Quinn then back down as fast as possible. No eye contact. She was never to make eye contact with anyone. Property didn't have the right to do that she reminded her self. Quinn pulled her close to him, kissing her cheek like he always did when he had something horrible planned.

"Tonight I'll let you come and enjoy the fireworks with us. You will be able to see them from the bed in my room" he gave a long pause "But only after we get you cleaned up. You are too filthy to be allowed into a bed." He told her, putting the choke collar around her neck, adding a leash. "I like this one better than the shock collar I used to train you with." Pulling on it hard, forcing her to grab her neck in response as the prongs push at her skin and cut off her air.

"Walk" he commanded her.

Jamie didn't hesitate to obey his commands; the reactions had become a natural response. She crawled after him, keeping slightly behind as he led her to the showers. She stayed on her hands and knees watching him from the corner of her eye as he turned the water on. He knelt down by her undressing her quickly before tossing her into the tub keeping a tight hold on the leash.

Jamie winced feeling the cold water against her skin.

"Go on. Wash up" he smirked watching her shiver in the shower.

Jamie slowly began to wash. In her head, she prepared her self for what was to come as she went through the motions numbly. She was happy that he wasn't participating in the shower like he had so many times in the past. He always made them so much worse. Quinn saw she was done and yanked on the collar making Jamie lean towards him as she clung to the collar trying to keep the prongs from cutting into her skin and choking her. It didn't work. Jamie felt her body go weak as she blacked out.

/// Skip to next note to avoid s*xual assault content///

She woke up feeling sore. Jamie was careful to keep her eyes closed as she listened to what was around her. She could hear the three men, her stomach churned as she began to get more feeling back into her body. Jamie recognized the familiar sounds, smell, and feel of the man who wasn't talking with the others. She knew it was Quinn and that meant he would soon recognize that she had woken up. As if he had read her thoughts, she felt her head being lifted by a hard yank on her hair.

"Decided to join in on the fun, huh?" Quinn laughed as he kissed her cheek. "You have been out for a while and we didn't want to slow down the party to wait for you." He stated as he continued his assault on her body.

Jamie stared at a familiar comer of the wall, the one she always focused on in this room, trying to close her self off from the feeling of him. She made sure not to cry or make a noise as he continued. He was being more gentle than usual and she didn't want that to change. She didn't want to screw it up as they told her she did with everything. A big bang followed by some sizzles made her flinch, gasping in fear of what the noise was coming from.

You stupid girl, you may have just pissed Quinn off! Her mind berated her.

"She is still scared of loud noises I see" laughed a man who was watching them over in a chair. "I wonder what else we can conditioner her to fear, we have ingrained so many into her subconscious."

Quinn grunted his approval at her reaction, before he violently flipped her over onto her hands and knees, yanking her hair back hard again pulling her against him, "watch the fireworks, it's the closest to freedom you will ever be."

Jamie's eyes watered as she opened them and watched the light show trying to not react to the sound each time one went off. She swallowed bile as she felt him release inside her as the firework show finished.

Jamie got through the next couple of hours without disobeying too many rules. Each time she did they took the time to give her the punishment she deserved. Quinn and the boys were done with her for the night. So they dressed her back into her clothes, that in all honesty no more than tattered rags, and took her back to the cell. After they left her, Jamie cried silently to her self until she succumbed to some much-needed sleep.

 ///Pick Back up here///

11:15 pm July 4th :

The BAU team was dressed in their bulletproof vests as they approached the factory. It was time to get their girl back.

"Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss, when we enter go left. Reid, JJ, and I will go right. Detain anyone you can, kill if necessary, but no matter what, we get Jamie." Hotch said before he nodded to Morgan to enter.

The team split, both clearing the hall and rooms as the checked for their safety as well as hoping Jamie would be behind one of the doors. Reid made his way to the staircase; slowly he walked quickly to the second floor. Upon seeing that Morgan was already checking that hall he worked his way up another level and proceeded in.

Quinn looked up at the security footage, "Shit FBI is inside! Get everything you can I'm going to get the girl!"

"No! they're almost to her! We got to let her go! We can get her back for the boss later!" said one of the other men as he grabbed as much video and documents of what they had subjected Jamie through into a bag.

The other man began wiping the hard drives of the computers after he copied all the information for them, "Let's GO!"

Quinn struggled to go after Jamie, his pet, he didn't want her taken but once he saw one of the agents pass by their door he had no choice but to run with the other two men as they worked their way down the fire escape.

Prentiss called out, "They are running down the fire escape. Three men. They don't have Jamie!"

Quinn Fired a shot at Prentiss who retuned fire missing Quinn but hitting one of the other men. She kept firing but Quinn and the other man were able to get into their car and drive off.

Jamie tensed hearing the gunshots but she didn't dare move. Her eyes darted to the door when she heard the knob turning. Reid slowly walked in seeing Jamie sitting on the floor, his heart pounded in his chest as he carefully walked up to her and knelt down.

"Jamie..." he saw the fear in her eyes as he slowly moved towards her, his heartbreaking as she scooted further back against the wall trying to get as far away from as she could.

~Can also be read on AO3 and Fanfic by anonymouslymine ~

[carp0nastick]

The Secret Clanstone Pt.6

“Are we invading the Mutilaxians?”  The voice called out of turn.

Senator Khorik Sollchin of the Systems League Congress looked at the Dubachi reporter, imagining what his blood might taste like.  A free press was crucial for a democracy to function.  He reminded himself of that as he inhaled to answer what was, contrary to the common saying, a very stupid question.

“The mobilization of Systems League Armed Forces is being not, I the repeating, being not in preparation for an invading of Mutilaxian, or any other sovereign systems territory.  The troops are being the mustered at duty stations as a precautioning measure, but no sorties into neutral or contested territory is being the planned or the authorised at this time.  In brief, we are wanting our soldiers the ready no matter how the situation unfolding.”  The aged Choraki said evenly.  One of his eyes swiveled towards his aide as they motioned for his attention.  He paused for a moment as the assistant made the limb signal he had been hoping for.  “Thanking you all for your times, my secretary will the continuing this briefing.”

Khorik ignored the clamoring of the reporters.  Reassuring the masses was important, but only if things were actually reassuring.  He followed his bodyguards, humans all of them, out of the conference room and into a secure part of the Systems League Congress building.  Most of his staff was already present in the room.  Unlike most Senators, Khorik had members of all the sapients of the Systems League on his staff.  It was important to have a perspective aside from just the ones of his own species when deliberating.  Khorik had learned this the hard way as an infantryman during the Mutilax wars.  

The Cariz’n aide who had given him the signal to leave the conference took a quick headcount as the door to the secure and signal isolated room closed.  A quick wall of light washed over the gathered group, scanning for recording devices.  Only when all the scanning was done, and the door sealed, creating a Faraday cage of a meeting room, did the Cariz’n begin speaking.

“The asset is secured and the intel has been scrubbed.  Capt. Brixas confirms data containment.”  The Cariz’n said through its mandibles.

“This is being the good news.  Marreg, what is the happening with the snots?”  Khorik said, turning to a Dubachi.  The placid creature looked up from his screen with one eye.

“Their net is a giant mess.  The hawks are using every trick in the book to silence the doves, from simple smear campaigns to outright brute force hacks on any servers broadcasting what they don’t want heard.  Local assets are giving us a mixed picture, anti-war riots in some places, while their radical right has replaced local police with their thugs in others.  The industry and corporate sector is split about having another war.  The whole thing could tip either way.”  Marreg replied in the monotone drone common to his species.  The calm delivery of the strife within the territory of the Mutilaxians somehow made the news more troubling, as if the worst was inevitable.

“And the two main concerns?”  Khorik asked, almost worried to hear the answer.

“They still hate each other.”  Marreg replied, his eyelids curling into crescents in a charming Dubachi version of a smile.  Khorik’s tongue flicked with happy relief, even the stoic human bodyguards were baring their predator teeth in smiles.  There was a chance.  There was hope!

“Thanking you all, for your hard workings.”  Khorik said, rising from his seat. “I am wanting all of you to getting the good rest tonight, as real workings being happening the soon.  Go seeing your families for now.”

Khorik exited the room, and even though he had indeed dismissed his bodyguards, he was not at all surprised to see them dutifully accompany him to the meeting hall for the Systems League Security Council.  His secretary, apparently done feeding the reporters the official line on current events also fell in step.

“You should being with your mate, Jeremy.  The hatchling will be coming the soon, yes?”  Khorik said to the young human.

“Maybe by the way you tell time, sir.  She’s only four months in, and she knows what’s going on.  She told me to stick it out and be useful.  ‘No point in helping me bring a baby into this world if it’s covered in Sno… in Mutilax acid.’  She said.”  The human gave a wry smirk at his politically correct edit of his spouse’s words.  Even half a century after the Mutilax wars, the distrust and hatred of the Mutilaxians ran deep.  The slur was technically illegal by the terms of the treaty, but was still in common usage, as nobody cared to attempt enforcement.

Khorik nodded his head at the human woman’s wisdom.  Another war would see another generation of Systems League citizens killed and driven from their homes.  While the League was ready this time, there was no winning a war of that scale without losses in the billions.  Khorik had lost his sire, and two of his own hatchlings to the last war.  As he had watched his commanding officer sign the Phalz treaty, he had silently sworn that he would never allow such a tragedy again.

“Now entering, the venerated Senator Khorik Sollchin of Thonril IV”  The computer announced as Khorik entered the Security Council meeting.  The other council members stood as Khorik took his seat as part of the council triumvirate that chaired the meeting of 50 Senators.  His fellow triumvirates, Penuffinar Thax and Leslie Foxworth greeted him as the rest of the council gathered.  Thax was a good natured Cariz’n, easy to discuss with, and his party were very much aligned with Khorik’s own on many issues of state.  Foxworth was another matter altogether.  The human woman was always bringing up angles to problems that Khorik hadn’t thought of.  While Khorik knew she had the League’s best interest at heart, he was worried the human might come at his proposal in a way he hadn’t considered to defend against.  Still, this whole plan was an old human trick he had learned from his studies and the WENO units under his command.  How odd that he was worried about a human foiling his human hatched plan.

“You seem to be in a good mood.”  Penuffinar commented.  The Cariz’n settled his thorax into the tall chair that let him sit at eye level with the other two senators.

“I may have finding a way out of this trouble.”  Khorik said to the set of large eyes that looked back at him.  The smaller grasping limbs in front of the Cariz’n Senators mandibles passed over said eyes in a spontaneous grooming that indicated surprise.

“I never took you for an optimist, Khorik.”  Leslie said.  The human’s face was much more expressive, but Khorik had found his primate counterpart impossible to read over their tenure as council beings.

“I am being the realist.  I only feeling the hopeful, if there is being the something to hoping about.”  Khorik replied as the computer announced all members present and the sessions beginning.  Leslie raised an eyebrow, but said nothing further as the minutes were read, updates were given, and the first motion of the agenda was set forth.  This session, like every session before it for months, was almost entirely focused on the issues of the looming war.  Early strings of refugees were causing problems as smugglers switched to the lucrative cargo of living beings wanting to get away from the border worlds.  Extremist militia groups were forming on many worlds and ignoring the government's authority.  There had even been an attack on an armory by a particularly bold group of activists.  Even the peace movements were becoming a problem as they became targets of those less tolerant.  Each case was heard and solutions were deliberated upon before voting, all the while Khorik waited patiently.  Let everyone feel the stress and the burden of a nation's periled agony.  They needed to have what was at stake weighing on them when he offered a plan this bold.

“Now we come to the main issue of the evening, our stance on the current situation within the mutilaxian government.”  Leslie said, introducing the next item on the agenda.  “The situation is complicated to say the least.  According to what little news comes out of the Mutilaxian sector, the populace and about a third of the government wants peace, but the majority of their government and a sizeable portion of their industry is seeking another conflict.  No official communiques have been sent from the Mutilaxian government, and so we must decide our official stance in a vacuum.”

“Not being necessarily.”  Khorik said, now standing to address the assembly.

“We aren’t at war yet, your pet spies can’t help us here.”  Penuffinar objected, but Leslie cut him off.

“Information doesn’t just win wars, honorable Thax.  I want to hear what they know.”  The elder human stateswoman said evenly.  Khorik licked his eyeballs in relief, getting his very illegally acquired intel onto the floor was only the first hurdle.

“I am the thanking you, honorable Foxworth.”  He said, then turned to address the rest of the chamber.  “The news that is the leaking out of the Mutilaxian sector would have you believe there are being a faction for war, and being a faction against.  This is not being the truth.  There are actually existing the two separate, and rival factions doing the advocating of war.  The larger  Totalist faction is being the one supported by members of the older Mutilaxian government and the military.  Their leader, Gallin Wroxef, is a name most of you will be remembering.”  There was indeed a low murmur in the senate at the hated name.  Gallin Wroxef was directly responsible for much of the sorrow during the Mutilax wars.  From war crimes to prolonging the war another year with scorched earth tactics, the name Wroxef was synonymous with evil in the League.  

“The Reactivists are being the much more bold and radical of industry and civilian leaders.” Khorik continued.  “They are doing the much of agitating of civilian centers and the demonstrations of the violence.  The Reactivists seem to be the trying to make up for their lacking of influence and numbers with the energy and frequency of action.  Their leader is being a younger Mutilaxian demagogue named Tiller Lodf.  He is being the driving force behind the groups racist ideals, and is having the charisma to attracting the disenfranchised to his cause.”

“How is that better?”  Thax asked.

“You’re certain of this?”  Foxworth prodded.  Khorik turned to each in turn.

“I am the certain.  We are having the reliable intel from a malcontent being within one of their factions.  The two groups are both the advocating violence, and the practicing it on each other.  Each is thinking that they will be the seizing power once the populace is being cowed by Mutilaxian wartime laws.”  Khorik explained.

“I fail to see the relevance, that’s still a great deal of their influential individuals working towards tragedy.”  Thax said, his mandibles clicking fast with nervousness.

“No…  I see where you’re going with this.”  Leslie said, and if Khorik had lips, he would have kissed the woman.  “You plan to force a deeper wedge between the war factions.  Divert their attention to each other and give those who want peace an edge because of their unity.”

“It is being as you have said, and it is just so happening that the pro-war factions are the meeting to attempt a unified planning.  Their two leaders are having the personal grudges against each other, and having pledged the violence between them many times.  There will being no better chance to sowing the confusions among them than this!”

“That would require one of the factions to have some egregious slight to blame upon the other.  Even if your spies can find so much information, how could we manufacture such a convenient scizm?”  Thax said, his posture now much less nervous and more charged with thoughtful consideration.  Khorik might have kissed the furry arachnid too, he was already thinking in the right direction.  The Cariz’n twitched and went still for a moment, and Khorik knew the poor being had just had the same horrible thought that Sollchin himself planned to put to vote today.  He looked over at Leslie, who was giving him a sad, but determined look.

“Which one do we want to kill?”

[imagine-loki]

seiðmaðr

TITLE: seiðmaðr

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 5/? AUTHOR: goldtrimmedspectacle ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is attacked and forgets his past. Now riddled with amnesia, Loki must decide whether to follow his mind and return his memories, or to follow his heart and find true happiness. RATING: PG13. Will go up in later chapters. NOTES/WARNINGS: Blood. Can be found on AO3.

_____

It took forever and a day for the canyon’s and coasts to erode away By the weight of the ocean’s cyclical motion they swayed And though the eons may pass as slow as the sands of an hourglass Every grain that we’ve counted claims that even the mountains can change - New River, The Oh Hellos

CHAPTER FIVE

It was early morning when your small party left the campsite and started back on their journey.

  Bjarke was well-awake by the time all materials had been packed and both horses saddled up. Very little could be said for yourself and Ormr in similar regard.

  It was amusing to see the contrast between the burly man and the slight form of Ormr, whose eyes were droopy from lack of sleep and his lips curled into a scowl. You were in a slightly better state, having grown used to the early rising time from such an extensive past of travelling, but you were still yawning by the time Ormr and yourself had climbed upon Raoul’s back.

  The road into town was long but easy when compared to the rocky trails you had travelled previously.

  Ormr was chewing on another piece of bark as the trail converged onto the main road, his stomach still relatively sensitive from yesterday, and you helped yourself to a slice of meat that was packed in a bag on Raoul’s side. Bjarke seemed to have a similar thought, gripping a package filled with different meats from Asgard – sent by a dear friend of his that owned a poultry farm. There appeared to be a truce between him and Ormr, as Bjarke offered the frail man a few slices, who scoffed them down with little prompting.

  Note to self, you thought, get that man on a proper diet at the earliest means possible.

  It was lucky that your early start had meant the quick arrival into town. The road which led into the centre was relatively empty at such an early time in the morning. There were very few people, but even with the little congestion it still took an extra hour for the three of you to reach the outskirts of Sandnæs because Bjarke had taken it upon himself to greet every traveller that you passed, having lit up especially when he saw an older man with a thick black beard that rivalled his own. The intricate braids and ornaments, such as beads and engraved bronze, were particularly attractive to the eye and you smiled when the man stopped and waved at your small party.

  “Bjarke!”

  “Fenrir!”

  Bjarke jumped down from Stigr and the man in question did the same with his wagon, both men gripping each other in a passing bear hug before splitting and patting one anothers’ shoulders in a gesture that was only reserved for old friends.

  “How lucky it is that we caught you before departing,” Bjarke laughed and Fenrir joined in, slapping your friend on the back once more. They smiled a unanimous smile, features almost perfectly alike despite the dark wrinkles that adorned Fenrir’s sunken features.

  “So, it appears Bjarke knows this man,” Ormr murmured in your ear and settled a hand onto your hip, balancing himself as he shifted forward, still wary of his arm. “And if I am not incorrect, they are related?”

  You hummed.

  “Half-brothers, the two,” you explained as Bjarke and Fenrir chatted amicably. “Same father, different mothers. Fenrir’s mother passed away when he was just a babe, around one-hundred years or so, and it was perhaps another three-hundred years before his father remarried. Another twenty for Bjarke to be born. There’s four of them – three brothers and one sister.”

  Ormr nodded in return, curiosity sated.

  “Forewarning,” you kicked Raoul into a trot as Bjarke climbed back onto Stigr, “We may be greeted by an overly zealous family of redheads once we are stationed.”

  Ormr made a noise of annoyance and you huffed a chuckle, unsurprised.

  “Oh yes, I did seem to leave out the detail that this is Bjarke’s hometown, didn’t I?”

  He pinched your side.

  You smacked his hand in turn and focused on steering Raoul as Sandnæs began to peak over the horizon. The walk into town was swifter after Bjarke’s abrupt stop –

“It was not abrupt! I was surprised to see my brother travelling at this time in the morning, and it would have been rude if I hadn’t stopped to say hello. You know that, Jorunn.”

Ormr made a noise that had you stifling a laugh.

  But the sounds of merchants chatting, ladies laughing and children playing in the streets were a wonderful welcome committee when your party finally entered the comfortable town of Sandnæs. And the smell of newly baked bread, the sound of a vendor playing his fiddle on the side of the road and a mother chiding her child over a small fall, all made you nostalgic from previous visits to Bjarke’s home.

  The cobblestoned roads were wide enough for your horses to slip past the oncoming carts, and any passing pedestrians were kind enough to pause in their promenade, allowing the horses to keep their pace without any means of stopping.

  Ormr had also remained oddly silent once entering the comforting town environment, his hand having grown slack and legs sitting relaxed behind your thighs. It was unsurprising that when you glimpsed back the man was distracted by the passing shops - especially those with herbs, books and meat installed in the front windows.

  “Found anything you recognise?”

  His eyes squinted at a nearby bookstall.

  “No.”

  Unconcerned by the lack of memory, you smiled and patted his leg.

  “No worries. We will get you to a healer soon and after that perhaps we could go browse the shops and get you some properly fitted clothes, as well as anything else you will need for the meantime.”

  Ormr shifted his leg and his hand gripped your hip as Raoul turned a corner, following closely behind an eager Stigr, who was growing faster and into a quick trot down the empty side road.

  “I haven’t any money, you realise.”

  You waved a hand.

  “Bjarke and I have been lucky recently, so for this time, it is on me. No charge or need for you to repay us. It is really just to ensure that you are warm and well before finding your way home. Also, so that you don’t look so odd-looking in those trousers. Grey is very much not your colour.”

  The teasing lilt in your tone did not go unnoticed.

  “Odd-looking, you say?” Ormr rasped into your ear, “Oh, little one. You are wandering a dangerous path. I would be wary of your future words.”

  You laughed and nudged Raoul to keep up with Stigr.

  “Shut it, oddball. I’m sure with the proper cloth you would look very dashing,” you exclaimed with an exaggerated eyeroll, “for a miscreant, that is.”

  “A miscreant, you say? Dear healer, you barely know me.”

  You smirked and nudged the man behind you.

  “And what does that say about you, sir? The fact I can dub you such a title with a mere few days under our belts.”

  Ormr laughed, his voice thick and lavish.

  It was shocking what a few days of proper care and water had done for his vocal cords.

  “It very much means I am not a sir.”

  Your party stopped only moments later outside a familiar townhouse. Stigr made a sharp whiney when the door opened and outpoured a number of men and women, as well as a few small children who wrapped their small arms around Bjarke’s hands, arms and legs.

  It was entertaining to watch the large man lift them all with ease and swing the larger boys from their position on his biceps.

  Lifting yourself off Raoul, you gave Ormr a passing glance, assuring him you would be right back and welcomed a group of small children as they excitedly tackled you. Their chattering was eager and they pawed at you like puppies, all pleading for your attention and tales of your adventures.

  The group of small children calmed once Bjarke collected them into his arms with an excited squeeze. And the well-wishes of his aunts, uncles and other relatives were returned with equal enthusiasm on your behalf, a few extra hugs given for some of your friends amongst the large family.

  “Fauntkin, it appears I may have been captured,” the older man spoke with a huffed chuckle as another swarm of children hung from his neck and shoulders. A baby had somehow found themselves settled in the crook of his arm.

  You smiled, “I suppose you are incapable of travelling with us to the healers then, dear bear?”

  He gave you a sheepish look as another relative whisked round and kissed his cheek in greeting.

  “Jorunn, you are not staying?”

  You turned towards the familiar voice and smiled, welcoming the ever-lovely Valencia into your arms, whose motherly prowess never failed to make you comply with her demands.

  “I am afraid not,” you sighed heavily, enjoying the smile that adorned your friend’s features. “Whilst I will not tear dear Bjarke from the arms of his children, I have plans of another kind that I must return too.”

  The tall woman glanced between you and Ormr, who sat on Raoul, watching Bjarke stumble around with all the children still swinging from his arms. His eyes seemed to glaze over the reunion, not particularly fussed despite the shrieks of excitement coming from the infants.

  “My dear, have you finally found yourself a kærasti,” Valencia teased and fluttered her eyelashes at you in a flirtatious manner. Her blonde hair did little to prevent her teasing, letting it fall in front of her face and allowing the woman to fake an ever-masculine flick of her bangs.

  “Alas, my friend. I must disappoint you once more,” you laughed with a light smack aimed at her arm. “But Ormr is very much not my kærasti – he is merely a traveller that Bjarke and I found on our way back into your lovely arms.”

  Valencia let out an exaggerated groan.

  “Dúllan mín, when will you find a man for me to tease you with?”

  You smiled and smacked her once more.

  “I am not yet two-thousand, Val. I barely scrape one-thousand-and-five-hundred at best! Besides, men are not my priority in this line of work, and you know this.”

  Your friend groaned again.

  “Yes, I have come to realise this from our fiftieth conversation along these lines, but it will never stop me from hoping for you to arrive with a dashing man by your side! None of my girls are old enough for men, and you are my only hope in practising my scare tactics before they grow too interested.”

  “Alas, it appears that you may have to wait a little longer then,” you smiled warmly and hugged her once more, bidding goodbye as another group of relatives seemed to round onto Bjarke and yourself.

  “Don’t you forget to return for dinner, dúllan mín! I have much to discuss with you further,“ Valencia yelled as you walked away, gifting you a glare and knowing full well that you would return if only to prevent her undying wrath. With a snort, you nodded a confirmation to the strong-headed woman and gave a few of the children a gentle pet on their heads. Winking at Bjarke, you clambered back onto Raoul and settled in front of Ormr, the man sliding his hand back onto your hip and waving silently at Bjarke, who did the same.

  Valencia sent you a look as Ormr shifted into a more comfortable position for the ride.

  Drawing away from the loud family atmosphere, you were surprised to find how Ormr’s drawl was a stark contrast to the hyperactive chatter and yelling of Bjarke’s family, drawing your eyes away from the taunting look of Valencia’s.

  “That was… exhausting to watch.”

  You laughed.

  “Imagine actually interacting with the Danrsons and dottirs,” you sighed and steered Raoul back towards the outskirts of Sandnæs. “They are a very… eager family – very loud and happy to be alive, more so.”

  Ormr paused.

  “They were all children and relatives of one man?”

  You cackled at the horror ingrained in his words, as though terrified at the idea that one spawn could create such an endless line of child after child.

  His tongue may have been barbed days before, but the man at your back was far more of an open book than he wished.

  “Indeed,” you wheezed and gathered a breath, “they are all relatives of Bjarke and his father. A lot of those children were his nieces and nephews, and the few who knew me were Bjarke’s own children. He visits them as often as he can in this line of work.”

  Ormr shifted behind you.

  “And the woman you were talking to?”

  “A dear friend. Valencia is her name and Bjarke’s wife.”

  “That is terrifying.”

  You laughed, “What, being married to Bjarke or the number of children?”

  “Both.”

  “Next time, I’ll be sure to introduce you then.”

  He pinched you again.

  “Pain.”

  “Endearing.”

  “An annoyance.”

  “A delight.”

  “That is completely debatable, dear healer, and you know it,” Ormr jested and nudged Raoul with his own feet, increasing the horse’s pace down the increasingly busy streets.

  “I assure you. It is not a debatable factor but a fact. I am the most delightful person one could know,” you nodded and smiled as Ormr pinched your side once more.

  Slowing Raoul back into a slow trot, you took to steering him between the carts and busy merchants, slowing near the busy streets of the town centre. The healers were a mere few feet away and you knew it was better for Raoul to be left in the temporary care of a stable boy than traipsed around town without much need.

  It was with your prior memory of the surrounding areas that you lead Raoul into a nearby stable, which he was taken in and cared for by a few ingots. The horse seemed to glare at you as Ormr slid off his back and was directed into one of the stalls.

  You winced and waved at the gloomy stallion before exiting back onto the busy street as it struck eight thirty.

  Gifting Ormr your arm, you were unsurprised that the injured man passed up the opportunity of extra support despite his healing wounds. His hands did trail to grip your arm as the crowds grew busy in the central streets, however, when you were almost separated from the injured man.

  His eyes never seemed to stray from the passing shops as you directed him through the busy streets and the on-growing crowds. It got to the point where Ormr’s eyes were enraptured by a bound leather book, the second one in that specific shop, that you linked arms with the spindly man and tugged him in the direction of the healers.

  You tutted as Ormr’s attention was withdrawn from the interesting books and leather copies, trailing beside you with a slight gate to his step. He sent you an unimpressed look, which you returned with equal force, and the man rolled his eyes at you. You scowled as he looked you dead in the eye, a smirk on his lips, and dug his heels into the pavement, letting you tug at him futilely.

  By Odin, this man.

  “Move, you oaf.”

  “I shan’t.”

  His smirk widened and mischief gleamed in his eyes.

  “You are an utter pain, you realise?”

  “I’d rather call myself a delight.”

  You groaned and the man in question chuckled, allowing for you to drag him across the road and into the healers’ ward and shop. His eyes gleamed as the bell chimed with greeting at your entrance and immediately Ormr was scanning the walls and shelves for different herbs and potions that were stacked in jars and varied bottles.

  “Do not break anything.”

  He smirked at you.

  “Not on purpose at least.”

  An older woman walked out from behind a curtain attached to the wall.

  “Hello, how may I be of service?”

  You gave Ormr one last withering glare and moved over to the counter. Leaning forward, you smiled politely, “Hello. I’m hoping that my companion could possibly see a healer at the best time available - specifically today if possible?”

  You glanced over at Ormr as he pulled a book out from the collection stuffed into an overly crammed bookshelf.

  “My travelling companion and I came across this man a few days ago – he’s heavily wounded on the chest and his arm is broken. He also has no memory from prior the incident, and with this amnesia, he’s having spouts of nausea with black bile.”

  The woman’s face remained neutral, a frown coating her features at the mention of bile, and nodded.

  “Anything else?”

  “His hair. The side which is short seems to have been pulled and ripped from his scalp,” you explained with a wince and the woman nodded once more. “He seems malnourished but otherwise, there is nothing else.”

  The woman smiled and waved a hand at Ormr, who was drawn from the books he had gathered. The man walked over, his hand out for a handshake.

  “Hello, sir. My name is Kari,” she took his hand and shook it politely. Her words faltered when Ormr bowed and placed a kiss upon the back of her hand.

  “Hello Kari,” he smiled sweetly, “are you my healer?”

  The older woman was ripped from her stupor and smiled brightly, obviously charmed by Ormr despite his injured appearance, and nodded. “Yes sir, I will be your healer today and if you and your companion would follow me, I can have you healed right now. That is if it fits you.”

  “Very much so, and I cannot express my gratitude enough for your help,” Ormr expressed and smiled brightly at the smaller woman. “My arm has been causing me far too much pain these past few days and I really hope that it can be fixed soon,” he relayed to the woman, whose eyes softened at his gentle tone.

  “Of course, sir. I will do my best – I don’t wish for you to suffer any longer than you have. Just give me a moment and then I’ll come collect you,” she assured him and rushed back behind the curtain.

  You looked at Ormr, whose features had settled back into a look of neutralism and verged on bored disdain.

  “Want to explain your sudden princely act, good sir?”

  Ormr smirked and shifted his broken arm. The sling which held it up was growing loose from the early rising time and long journey that Bjarke had inflicted upon the man and yourself.

  “Nothing too extreme. A mere useful tactic in getting things done quicker and more efficiently, wouldn’t you say?” He grinned at you, eyes sparkling with delight and something darker, more sinister.

  Unsure how to respond, the healer returned once more and opened the curtain for Ormr and yourself to slip past. The blush on her cheeks did not go unnoticed as Ormr slid past, a courteous smile trained on his lips, and you almost laughed at how Kari flushed a darker shade of pink.

  Once settled, she had you sit down on a wooden chair to the side of the small healing room and forced Ormr to sit on an elevated bed inside the ward. The man sat without protest and pulled the sling over his head, gritting his teeth as Kari gently lifted his arm and stroked over the ridges and scars that dotted his skin.

  Her eyebrows furrowed.

  The healer assisted with ridding Ormr of his shirt and had him sit up straight, her hands skimming over the bandages that you had reapplied earlier that day. There was little talk as she unravelled them and skimmed over the stitches and healing wounds, searching for any puckering or discharge that could reveal an infection. It was with ease that she washed off the paste and took an alcohol-soaked rag, rinsing the skin of any dirt that had gathered overnight, and removed any larger specks with tweezers to prevent their entrance int Ormr’s wounds.

  “I can fix your arm,” she spoke and her voice filled the empty room with trepidation, “however I fear that the bones may have already begun to realign themselves in the wrong position.”

  Ormr frowned and winced as Kari squeezed gently around his elbow.

  “I am sure I can handle the pain.”

  The older woman looked at him and shook her head, a small smile gracing her features.

  “Of course you can, ást. My question is, will you allow me to use seiðr to fix it or would you prefer a more natural and herbal approach?” She questioned whilst pushing Ormr to lie upon his back, who tensed up and glanced at you. His eyes were still lidded, giving the impression of a relaxed façade, but his pupils were small and his expression fell into unease.

  You joined his side.

  “Seiðr would be more preferable,” you voiced and stood beside the injured man, “as it will allow for the bones to break and realign at once. Then Kari can charge healing magic into your skeletal system and have them fuse into their prior state.”

  You winced.

  “It will hurt though.”

  Ormr met your eyes, his pupils scanning your own, and nodded.

  “Yes, seiðr please.”

  Kari smiled gently and gifted Ormr a piece of thick leather to bite upon. He grimaced and let the leather sit between his teeth as Kari untwined the cloth around his arm, tracing the veins that aligned his pale skin, which made Ormr twitch. Her hands, though wrinkled, were gentle and cool against his elbow and you watched as the common glow of seiðr flooded from her palms and into his skin.

  The grunt Ormr let out made you flinch. The skin around his elbow had grown taut and you could visibly see the bones shifting between his muscles.

  You sympathised with the man, his eyes scrunched shut and his back arching at the pain.

  The seiðr that flowed from the healer pulled and pulsed through Ormr’s skin and you watched as the bones shifted. It began to slowly diminish over time and the glow vanished as Kari pulled away, leaving Ormr panting and sweat rolling down his face.

  He sluggishly complied when you pulled the leather from between his teeth and helped Ormr rise from his lying position, watching as he balanced with both arms.

  Ormr leant against your torso as the pain seeped the man of his energy.

  “Here. Have him drink this.”

  Kari handed you a cup filled with floral tea, the smell overpowering and almost repulsive, which you forced down Ormr’s throat as he was shifted by your hands and their movements. The thick gulps made you rub his back softly, and once the tea was finished, you gifted it back to Kari and gave Ormr a moment to breathe.

  The man sighed and his eyes fluttered open.

  “That was mildly unpleasant.”

  You snorted.

  “I imagine so.” You squeezed his ribs and shifted away from his weight. “Want to try flexing your arm?”

  Ormr searched the room for a moment, his eyes still bleary and mildly confused, before lifting his previously injured arm and flexing the fingers. There was no sign of pain from the man as he twisted the limb around, shifting his muscles and tensing them once then twice.

  “Much better. Thank you, Kari.”

  The older woman smiled and wiped the sweat away from his upper brow with a wet cloth.

  “My pleasure.” She patted his cheek sweetly. “However, I don’t believe we are done yet.”

  Ormr grimaced but lowered his head in acceptance. Kari smiled and traced her hands over the man’s shoulders, lifting her palms when she felt Ormr tense up from her touch. Her hands raised to rest on his temple, lifting Ormr’s head, and their eyes met.

  “You have amnesia, am I wrong?”

  “You are right.”

  Kari hummed and drummed her fingers lightly over Ormr’s forehead, “Do you give me permission to try and align your thoughts and memories?” She tucked the few strands of loose hair behind his ear and smiled reassuringly.

  “I assure you that this will not hurt.”

  Ormr raised an eyebrow.

  “I would hope not, but please. Go ahead.” He closed his eyes and allowed the weight of his head to fall into her palms. The healer softened her touch at the sign of trust and gave you a reassuring nod at Ormr’s acceptance.

  The seiðr gleamed from Kari’s hands once more and you studied Ormr’s features as it leaked into his skin, causing the pale details of his face to glean an iridescent yellow. The gleam seemed to seep deeper into his skin as time passed and you could see the nerves within his system alight with the glow of Kari’s seiðr. His nervous system appeared to pulse with energy and life as Kari pushed more seiðr into his conscious and began shifting between the memories.

  You sat silently as Kari worked her seiðr through Ormr’s mind, watching both her and Ormr with odd fascination. Despite her earlier claims, you were unsure if Ormr could not feel the seiðr, his face scrunched up with pain and sweat beginning to role down his face.

  Your eyes widened and a sense of panic filled the air as Ormr retched and black bile spilt from his lips. His skin paled as the yellow seiðr was replaced by black liquid and shimmers of green. Glass shards seemed to split through his skin and shattered ice tumbled from his lips. The blood that seeped from his lips fell upon his chest and narrowly missed his healing wounds.

  Kari ripped her hands away as Ormr begin to visibly shake and more bile spilt from his lips, his eyes opening and tearing up with panic and pain. The bile began to grow thicker and ran from his nose as he shook, grabbing your arm as the sound of hissing filled the room and the bile fell onto Ormr’s bed sheets, tearing the fabric’s seams apart.

  Kari’s hands raised to her mouth in horror at the scene and she took a shaky step back.

  “Black bile.”

  The healer moved quickly, pulling Ormr forward so that the bile would seep onto the floor rather than onto his own body and the bed lining. Her hands ran over his face and seiðr flooded Ormr’s chest, causing it to light up as the magic passed through his veins and blood.

  Kari withdrew swiftly and hurried to a shelf to her left, scanning the vials and bottles. Her words came out mumbled and frantic as she muttered, ‘purple, purple, red leaves’ repeatedly and pulled the first vial that matched her description from the tall shelf.

  The vial was large and indeed, held a thick purple liquid that smelled pungent when she tore off the cap.

  Kari forced your hands to grip Ormr’s face and to tilt his head back. She quickly copied your actions and braced Ormr’s neck with one hand, the other pouring the potion through Ormr’s nostril and allowing the liquid to travel through his nasal cavity and down his throat.

  There was a moment where Kari watched as the bile continued to spill from Ormr’s lips and then it stopped. The remaining black ooze that lay on his chest seeped off his pale skin and hit the ground in small droplets, creating a hiss as they hit the wooden panelling.

  You helped prop Ormr up as the remaining bile dripped down your companion’s chin and his body shuddered violently. The man gripped your hand fiercely, too shaken and riddled with pain to consider his actions.

  “Hold him still. I need to put him under.”

  You glanced between Ormr and Kari, unsure whether to follow her instructions or to simply gift the shaken man the comfort that he desired.

  You followed Kari’s demands and allowed for her to grip Ormr’s head and the man promptly passed out.

  The shaking stopped.

  His breathing eased.

  You lowered Ormr onto the bed and pulled him onto his side, ensuring that if he had any further fits at least he could not choke.

  Kari grabbed a cloth soaked in water from a nearby bowl and wiped away any bile residue on Ormr’s body. The cloth hissed at the contact with the bile but seemed to work enough to remove any traces from Ormr’s chest and face.

  You sat silently, gripping the man’s hand as Kari finished her work in silence.

  “Poison.”

  You glanced up from Ormr’s shrunken face.

  “Strong poison. A lot of strong poison in this man’s system,” the healer muttered and settled the cloth and water onto the floor besides Ormr’s bed. “A lot of exotic strong poison – basically lethal if it weren’t for his seiðr,” she murmured to herself and laid a gentle hand upon Ormr’s wrist.

  “Very lucky. Very, very lucky.”

  “Seiðr?”

  Kari looked up from studying Ormr and frowned at your interruption. Her eyes fluttered between Ormr and yourself, grimacing as she patted his arm pityingly.

  “The man you found is not that of common heritage, ást,” her voice lay thick with worry, “nor have you arrived with him in the best state. It is lucky that you brought him to a healer’s, otherwise, I am unsure whether he would have survived another fortnight without care.”

  “Another fortnight?”

  Kari hummed.

  “The black bile he has been secreting – it is not a common ailment for those of non-seiðr lineage, but is not common for those within a seiðr lineage either, therefore, it is damaging and rare. Not a natural ailment, rest-assured, but often self-inflicted or a rare death-sentence for those with magic.”

  “He is a seiðmaðr?” You asked and looked at the shaking man within your grasp. Even when he was trembling and looking worse for wear, you had to agree there was still something ethereal about him.

  “Yes. Very powerful. Very, very powerful,” the healer murmured and studied Ormr’s features closely, dismissing your curiosity for her own. “Uncommon upon Vanaheimr, but common in other realms such as Midgard and Jötunheimr – there are distinct features which lead me to believe that he may not be in his natural form. A buzz of seiðr encasing his entire being.”

  Ormr whimpered softly in his sleep and the hand in your grasp tightened upon your fingers.

  “Also, something else, but I cannot tell. Something unnatural to those of common background, rest assured.”

  “Is he dangerous?”

  Kari stayed silent for a moment.

  “I cannot say, ást. He is injured beyond my aid, poisoned by that of a völva’s curse or death-sentence. Whoever inflicted these injuries upon him did not want the man to live much longer than he already has, but I cannot tell what heritage he possesses beyond that of the seiðr he carries. Even then there is a mixture of techniques and practices that appear to range from Asgardian to Jötunn. It is difficult to decipher.”

  “And what of his memories? What caused such a reaction to your seiðr?”

  The healer lifted her hand from Ormr’s body and settled it upon her hip.

  “Your companion, whether he realises it or not, has encased his mind in seiðr. Due to the mixed heritage or perhaps the skills this man possesses, I cannot understand nor align the type of seiðr with my own knowledge. However, I can assure you that his memories are not present as of currently, granted, but they are there. And they are protected by a shield of seiðr I cannot penetrate – nor would I believe anyone in this town could dismantle without great fear of worsening your companion’s state.”

  “Whoever poisoned him, the man knew what was coming and has obliterated any chance of the poison reaching his mind and therefore, saving his life and memories. It appears that any overlap of his past or search for his memories causes the poison to spike, which his system knows to secrete naturally, and therefore causes the man to release it in the easiest manner – vomiting.”

  “It is actually incredibly brilliant, but very difficult to study and fix. The poison can be drawn out through careful concentration but only by someone of equal or more power than this man possesses, for the wall he has built is harsh and unforgiving in its manner of protection and pain.”

  “But it can be fixed?”

  The healer bit her lip and nodded.

  “Yes, it can be fixed. But not here – not now. I can give him remedies and potions that can push off the inevitable and the deterioration of this man’s system, but I cannot expel it. There have been very few cases of such ailments, but I have records of what can be used to lengthen his life, however, without the right strength and power, the destruction of his memories and death are inevitable.”

  You gripped at the slack hand within your palm, feeling a heavy bout of sympathy for a man riddled with so much pain and trial. He could not remember his family or past without the poison destroying his body.

  “And where could we find someone who could dispel the poison and seiðr?”

  Kari glanced at your joined hands.

  “Ást, this man is a stranger to you, is he not?” You nodded. “Then I am unsure whether I should recite such information to you, especially as I am unsure whether you would assist the man or merely prevent him.”

  She had a point, you noted, but the sting of her words caused you to bristle.

  “My companion and I are experienced travellers – a goldsmith and a merchant to sell his wares. We travel many realms and planes. If Ormr was to have a companion to deliver him to the appropriate healers, then I would bet that Bjarke and I are better than none.”

  There was a heavy sense of distrust in the air as the healer allowed her eyes to bore into your own. The swirls of magic seemed to gift her with rich hazel pupils that glistened with shocks of gold and black.

  She relented.

  “There are healers north of here – well versed in blood magic and seiðr. They are your best bet for the poison. Whether they could expel the seiðr on your companion’s mind, I cannot confirm, however.”

  You nodded and moved Ormr’s hand to lay upon his stomach.

  “But if the poison is fully removed, then there would be no concern when it came to returning Ormr’s memories?”

  “Indeed, his memories would be easy to harness without any worry for his physical health.”

  You rose from the man’s side and tucked a stray strand of hair back into Ormr’s loose ponytail. His breathing had deepened and all signs of illness had passed, leaving the man in an eased sleep.

  “Your companion should stay here for the remainder of the day and perhaps overnight. It would be best for his wounds to heal and so that I may make the solution that would counteract the poison for the meantime,” Kari voiced and joined your side, “I will move him into a more private room for time being.”

  “You’re right,” you accepted the truth in the healer’s words. “It is a wise choice, but would you be against my presence also? My other companion is currently reuniting with his family and I don’t wish to ruin the reunion with such dismal news.”

  “You may. It could be a while before he wakes up – so perhaps you should grab some food from town and hopefully, by the time you return, your companion will have awoken. And I imagine he will be very pleased by the presence of food after expelling so much waste.”

  Shaking hands with Kari, you thanked her graciously and squeezed Ormr’s arm once more. The slumbering man remained still and you pulled away.

  Leaving the healing ward, you slipped a few ingots into Kari’s hands and promised to return in no less than three hours. The healer smiled gently at you and walked you out into the front of the shop, where two younger healers appeared to have started the working day by restocking potions in the glass cabinet and shelves.

  “Thank you once more, Kari. I am most grateful for your help.”

  The older woman waved a hand in passing.

  “It is my job, krútt. Now go fetch yourself some food and I’ll see you at lunch.”

  You nodded your head in thanks and walked out, hoping that with any luck, Ormr would be well and safe when he awoke.

____

Ást– translation for love, pronounced:as-t Kærasti - translation for darling/loved one/boyfriend, pronounced: ky-ras-tee Seiðmaðr– translation for sorcerer, pronounced: say-der-mah-der Krútt - translation for sweetiblueutie, pronounced: kyer-root Dúllan mín - translation for sweetie, pronounced: du-lan mean

[mustangtaisa]

The Black Tie Affair

Pairing: RoyxRiza Genre: Fluff, Action, a bit Angst Word Count: 2045 Summary: Written for Royai Week 2017 Day 2′s prompt: Black Tie. Roy and Riza go undercover to bust a suspected drug dealer at a formal gala.

This is also posted on Fanfiction.Net and AO3.

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“Darling, I’m home!”

Roy Mustang burst through the front door of the large house and into the living room with a huge grin on his face. He found Riza sitting on a plush armchair, a book open in her lap. She didn’t even look up when he entered the room.

“Do I need to remind you that we’re on a mission, sir, and that we’re not actually married?”

Roy sighed and flopped into an armchair across from her.

“You’re no fun, Lieutenant,” he whined with a pout.

“And don’t forget about the reception tonight,” she continued, pointedly ignoring his complaining. “It starts in two hours and we should get there early to scope out the venue ahead of time so we know how to appropriately deal with our target.”

Roy groaned again. “I know, I know.”

Riza let out a quiet sigh, snapped her book shut, and stood to get herself ready for the event that their entire week of ‘married couple charades’ was preparing them for. They had integrated themselves in a small, upper class community in order to get closer to the suspected leader of a notorious drug smuggling ring. Disguising themselves as a rich family, with Ed posing as their son, made the mission simple and no one suspected yet that they were actually military officials.

The idea had been General Grumman’s and Riza was not comfortable with it at first. Roy, on the other hand, was inwardly excited upon hearing Grumman’s undercover disguise suggestion for them. Not the Edward being their son part, of course. He could have done without that inclusion. The colonel was smart enough not to admit any of his thoughts out loud though. Riza would have given him an earful.

“Where are the boys?” Roy asked, suddenly noticing their absence.

“Upstairs getting ready.”

Riza set her book down on the end table by her chair and breezed passed Roy to also get ready for the gala. Roy didn’t miss the scent that wafted to his nose when she walked by and he grinned, craning his neck to look back at her.

“Is that a new perfume?”

Riza breathed a quiet laugh.

“It might be.”

Her response only made Roy grin wider as he watched her disappear into the bedroom and shut the door. He chuckled softly and stood to go to his own room, donning a formal three piece black and gray suit. Just as he was finishing the knot on his black silk tie, a knock on his door halted his actions.

“Come in,” he called.

Riza walked in a moment later, hurriedly closing the door behind her, a worried frown on her red painted lips. He raised his brow in question.

He couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering over her well built frame covered by a long, high necked black dress. Roy had decided long ago that Riza could make anything look good and the dress she wore at that moment was certainly one of the most flattering pieces of clothing he’d ever seen on her. He knew there were at least two gun holsters somewhere on her person and that made her outfit even more tantalizing. 

“My zipper is stuck,” Riza huffed, holding her arms over her chest to hold the dress up. “Would you help me fix it, please?”

Ah, so that’s why she looked so flustered. If Ed and Al had decided to come downstairs when she was walking to his room it would have been bad.

“Of course, Lieutenant.”

Riza turned her back to him and he stepped up to her, lifting his hand to the zipper caught in the fabric at her mid back. He paused at the sight of the tattoo and scars marring her skin and absently brushed his knuckles over her back, grimacing at the difference between the rough scar tissue at her shoulder and the softness of her unblemished skin. Shaking his head to clear his mind of old, painful memories, he fiddled with the zipper a bit, freeing the dress and allowing him to zip it closed.

But instead of moving back upon completing his task, he leaned in closer to her, nose almost brushing her ear, breath warm on her neck.

“You look amazing,” he muttered in her ear, his baritone sending an involuntary chill down her spine. “And you smell nice. You should wear that perfume more often. It suits you.”

Finally he moved away, turning his back to her while he continued knotting his tie. Riza was thankful he turned around so he wouldn’t see the healthy blush coloring her cheeks. She slowly walked to the door and turned slightly in his direction.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet and airy.

She then opened the door and left his room to finish getting dressed.

“Hey! Asshole dad!”

Edward’s voice rang out from the hall a few minutes after Riza had gone and Roy sighed, walking out of his room to see what the brat was angry about now.

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The black tie affair in that little town could have rivaled the military balls Mustang and Hawkeye were forced to attend every year. Extravagant decorations, champagne and wine on every table, waiters serving expensive hors d’oeuvres, the works. It made Roy and Riza wonder if the town was ignoring the fact that the richest one among them was a drug dealer just so they could have these lavish parties. After what they’d seen in just the week they’d been there, they wouldn’t have been surprised.

“The rest of the team should be here soon,” Riza muttered and Roy nodded, his charming smile never leaving his face. Their act was easy for them and the people bought it without question. Riza squeezed his arm that was linked in hers to get his attention once more. “I think I just saw Fuery.”

“Looks like they’re right on time then,” Roy replied, leading her toward a table in the corner of the large room.

Edward trailed behind them, looking around and hoping the rest of Mustang’s team was taking good care of Al. His little brother was staying with them at the house, but he couldn’t come with them as part of the family masquerade. His armor stood out too much.

The three of them took their seats at the table, each of them taking in the party around them. Riza took note of all of the exits and windows, Roy eyed the people slowly filtering in, and Edward cared more about the food than the actual mission.

Riza caught sight of Havoc who gave her the signal that the team was in position. She relayed this message to Roy and he nodded, continuing to look around the room, this time trying to find their target.

At last, the drug dealer made his appearance. He would have been hard to miss in his bright red suit with a woman in a gaudy, over the top gown at his side. As soon as he stepped into the room, the team’s plan moved into action.

The band began playing and Roy stood, extending his hand to Riza. She accepted his silent request, placing her hand in his and allowing him to lead her to the dance floor where other couples, including their target, were already swaying and twirling to the music.

As they danced, Roy and Riza pointedly moved closer to their target without drawing attention. The goal was to catch him off guard, place him under arrest, and hope to wrap up the matter quietly. If things didn’t go quite so easily, that was where Team Mustang and Edward came in. The pre-planned backup would give them an edge as the only guards in the area were at all the entrances.

They missed their opportunity when the woman dancing with their target decided she wanted a drink and led him away from the dance floor. Roy groaned and shared a look with Riza. A new plan was forming in their minds. They followed their target, Riza hanging on Roy’s arm and laughing, Roy leaning close to her, a huge smile on his face. They looked like the perfect married couple they could only dream of being.

When he thought about it, Roy was almost sad that their week of pretend would be ending soon and though she would never admit it, Riza felt the same.

They approached the table their target stopped at to pour drinks and Riza let out a particularly loud giggle to gain their attention.

“Oh! You’re Mister Aberdine,” Riza said, acting impressed. “The one that hosted this fantastic party, right?”

The man didn’t seem suspicious and instead turned to her with a pompous smile, clearly full of himself.

“Yes, indeed I am. Richard Aberdine, the one and only.”

That was all the confirmation they needed and Riza moved her hand that wasn’t attached to Roy’s arm, signaling the team, who should have been watching them, that they were about to make their move.

“I’m going to have to ask you to come with us,” Roy said, dropping the act and pulling away from Riza. He grabbed a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and moved closer to Aberdine in as non threatening a way as possible. They didn’t want to make a scene if they didn’t have to.

Aberdine’s friendly demeanor evaporated, replaced with an aura of malice.

“What is this? I don’t think so, you can’t prove anything.”

“Indeed we can,” Roy replied. “We have all the evidence we need to incriminate you, Aberdine. You confirming your name solidified it. Please come with us quietly and this won’t need to get ugly.”

Aberdine growled and unexpectedly smashed his wine glass on the table, swiping at Roy with the broken stem. Roy almost avoided it, but the sharp glass nicked his cheek and he winced as blood dotted up from the cut. Seconds later, Aberdine dropped the remains of the glass and punched Roy who was still distracted with trying to avoid the first hit, busting his lower lip in the process.

It all happened so quickly that Riza, who had been behind Roy, wasn’t able to prevent the two attacks against her colonel, but she did intervene before he could attempt anything else. Her gun was drawn and pointed at Aberdine’s head before he could move another muscle.

Despite the danger and the stinging pain from the cut on his cheek and his bleeding lip, Roy was disappointed that he missed Riza drawing her weapon. He really wanted to know just where she was hiding that gun.

Shouts from around the room let them know that the rest of Team Mustang and Edward had reacted to the fight, taking out the guards and coming to Mustang and Hawkeye’s aid to finish the arrest.

“We’ll take it from here, Chief,” Havoc said, he and Breda coming up to them with their weapons drawn, handcuffs at the ready. As they neared, Havoc saw the blood on Mustang’s face and winced. “And yeesh, you should go get that cleaned up.”

Roy was about to make a retort, but Riza cut him off.

“I’ll make sure he cleans those cuts,” she said, grabbing his arm and pushing him away from the scene toward a darker balcony outside overlooking the mansion’s lavish gardens. She stopped at a table on the way, plucking a napkin from it and dipping it in a pitcher of water.

It was quiet and peaceful outside, a stark contrast to the party starting up again after Aberdine was taken away. Riza brought the damp napkin to Roy’s cheek, dabbing lightly. He made a face and Riza rolled her eyes. He was acting like a child that had fallen from his bike.

“It’s not that bad, sir.”

“But it still stings like hell.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips and she leaned closer to him, lightly kissing the cut on his cheek.

“Any better?”

Roy blinked in surprise before grinning and shrugging.

“Yeah...But my lip still hurts.”

Riza laughed and leaned in again.

Inside, Alphonse witnessed the tender scene between the colonel and his lieutenant, made a soft ‘aww-ing’ sound, and quickly turned his brother away from the couple on the balcony before Edward saw them and made a scene.

[janeykath318]

The Courtship Of Miss Kirk- END

[vanessagalang]

Going to Dumaguete and Siquijor didn’t appeal to me before because first, I don’t know anybody there, and second, I haven’t heard anything touristy about it – until I realized how wrong I was.

John (who was then the boyfriend, not until he proposed in the plane right before we landed to Dumaguete) has grandparents who live there, and part of our itinerary was to meet them. This is actually the first trip we’re having as a couple, and meeting his grandparents really placed some shivers down my spine.

Note: A long post awaits you. I wanted to give you details of our trip, as a form of reference when you go there. Go ahead my wanderer merfriend! :D

DAY 1

We arrived on a rainy Sibulan airport, and goodie I haven’t forgotten my Cebuano, we managed to build rapport with the guards and locals, and one of which is our trusty and friendly chauffeur Kuya Judy.

He was supposed to take us to Harold’s Mansion, because that’s what I was eyeing based on the blogs I’ve read about going to Apo Island. I was thinking of placing our reservations; since we’re planning to go there on our 4th day. They were particularly difficult to contact too, since my Facebook messaging and SMS attempts remained futile, so I thought going there was the best idea.

Kuya Judy was so helpful because he advised that we can do Apo Island on DIY. I was hesitant at first, but he said we will save a lot if we just do it ourselves. So we opt to have breakfast first at Sta. Teresa Resto. This was one of the few restaurants that are already open at 6AM.

While we eat, Kuya Judy offered to run to the Dumaguete Port to buy us ferry tickets to Siquijor, since that was also our plan after Harold’s Mansion. Kuya Judy was even offering his ID to us, just so we have something to hold from him and to ensure that he’s coming back with our tickets. He was soooo nice! But we told him we didn’t need it. :)

He was able to score us 10AM ferry rides to Siquijor, and since it is just around 7:00AM, he said that he can tour us in Dumaguete. I actually thought John and I are never going to tour the city because we may be pressed for time, but oh well, we can put the 3hours to good use, so we gladly agreed.

We visited Cathedral of St. Alexandria the Diocese of Dumaguete first. The bell tower was enormous.

We also went to the Chinese Temple’s Bell Church, and offered some incenses after we used some bean-like stones and long sticks for fortune guide. The place was well-maintained, to think that they only ask for donations. It was also undergoing renovation, and I can’t wait to go back to see how it will all turn out.

We weren’t able to snap photos inside. It was prohibited. :(

Anyhoo, we also had the chance to get foot massages, and they were divine, and a little ticklish.

We boarded the ferry at 10AM at Dumaguete port, and arrived to the bright and happy Siquijor. We booked a tricycle and it cost us P300. I booked us to Islandia Beach Resort, and it’s located in San Juan Siquijor. It was relatively far, around 30 to 40 minute drive from the port, but once we got there, it was worth it.

We also made friends with our neighbours, and one of them was actually in the same plane, and he heard the proposal. He was like, “Kayo pala yun!”.

We checked in to Islandia Beach Resort, and was greeted by this spacious accommodation.

This reminded me of room in Isle Esme, where Bella and Edward Cullen had their honeymoon in Breaking Dawn. What do you think?

John and I were so tired with the trip and were so amazed by our accommodation that we slept the afternoon away.  So much for our beach bumming plan. Huhu

DAY 2

Kuya Ronald, our driver picked us up at 8AM, so we had breakfast early that morning, and of course some photo ops! Haha I’m so kilig how John is such a natural Instagram boyfriend, oh I mean fiancé . (He might read this blog too. Haha He’s particular with the names I call him. Hehe)

Siquijor is just a small island, and you can tour it for a day. Most travellers I know only spend a daytour here, but I thought we need some freshening up and a good sleep so I booked us 2D and 2N in Islandia.

I was so inlove with this island, and its people. Everybody was soo kind and accommodating. The entrance fees are so cheap too.

Balete Fish Spa

Entrance Fee: P10.00 per person

The fishes were so hungry that they were all looming over John’s feet. Even a milkfish joined the fun! There were a lot of foreigners there too.

If you need the loo, there is one near the place, and you just have to pay P5.00 .

In buying shirts or sandos, I recommend that store across the fish spa. I like their designs more, and the prices are cheaper. So we bought these!

San Isidro Labrador Church

It was a big and old church. You know what they say when you go to a new church, you can make a wish! So I made one, and also lit some candles.

The sun was extra sunny that day, not to mention the weather was all perfect for the tour. We couldn’t be happier.

Cambugahay Falls

Now this is my favourite. I was shocked that there was no entrance fee. When we arrived, a guy approached us and introduced himself. He is Sir Justin, and he will be our guide. I highly advise that you avail their services, they can guide and help you while you’re trekking this beautiful attraction.

There are 3 falls in Cambugahay. The first was wide, and rather deep. Only a few people jump and stay there.

The 2nd one was shallow, and was only till the waist. It was a good place to get a water back massage.

The 3rd one was the most popular of all. The water was clean and cool. You can take turns to do the Tarzan Jump and even take the leap from the side. Our guide even taught me to face the camera while holding the wielding handle.

I was shocked to know that after my Tarzan Jump, the basin was indeed deep, and my feet didn’t reach the bottom. So I paddled and soon enough, my feet reached the bed. Haha and I was alive! I took another turn because it’s addicting like that!

I also took 2 leaps in a rather 10ft. distance. I thought it was a good way to practice for our Cebu canyoneering in November.

We ended around 12noon. Actually there were people who were selling packed lunches at the entrance that cost P150.00 each, but we didn’t buy. We were thinking of having lunch somewhere else.

Salagdoong Beach

This was rather far, but the road to it was a site to see. The trees lining a trail formed a wonderful view, meeting at the top, that it forms a canopy. That is why I asked Kuya Ronald to stop, and let us have a quick photo. This was rather tricky because a lot of cars and tricyles were passing by, so we need to be quick in snapping those photos. I am so thrilled Kuya Ronald was so game to take our shots.

We were already starving, and good thing Salagdoong Beach had a mini restaurant. The prices are reasonable, although it took them a while before they served our food. Good thing, they were delicious!  It was also a good way to let time pass by as well, as we await the sun to set a little.

The beach is actually a resort, and you can book an overnight stay. I read a lot of people wanting to spend the night here, but given the time, we would too. However, Islandia Beach Resort was a sweet treat and we couldn’t leave it; maybe next time, we’ll book here!

There are two sides of the beach separated by stone landscapes. What I didn’t like though was the beach was extra rocky, and it hurt my feet pretty bad. The sand wasn’t so powdery either. The sand crystals were rather bigger than most beaches. And these made John and I realize that we should invest in aqua shoes! Haha Accio Aqua Shoes!

The water was extra wavy that day, and the current was strong. We enjoyed it all the same though, jumping in between strong waves. It’s a good work out I guess!

John and I bought Torta as per Kuya Ronald’s recommendation. We bought 2 Tortas for us, and 10 more for Kuya Ronald and his family. :)

We ended the day by having a sumptuous dinner back in Islandia with our new found neighbors, I mean friends! Haha :D

DAY 3

We woke up really early, because we had to go at 4AM for our 5AM ferry boat ride. Kuya Ronald was as punctual as ever. We got in time to Siquijor Port. We were actually worried because 5AM tickets might be sold out, but it wasn’t!

You can choose to have the regular boat like the one in GL Shipping Lines that’s going to take 1 hour and 30 minutes, or Ocean Jet for only 45 minutes. Well, we already bought our tickets when we found out about these. Anyway, it’s just a few tens difference. :)

We met Lolo and Lola, and had breakfast first at Foodnet.

Here are our cute instructions on how to get to Manjuyod Sand Bar:

We took the bus going to Manjuyod in Rizal Blvd. with “Manjuyod” as the signboard. We didn’t go all the way to the terminal as it was counterproductive. So if you’re near Rizal Blvd., you could just wait for the buses that pass there. We alighted at Bais Police Station.

We rode the tricycle to the port, and boarded a boat at P2,000.00 with all the 4 of us. We just added P250 each for the food.

It was a 30-minute boat ride to reach the Manjuyod Sandbar. We got there at 10AM though, so it was already high tide. But it was still beautiful. I just felt swimming sa “baha” though. Hehe There were a lot of boats nearby too, and swimming tourists.

The sand was powdery, the water and air was cool amidst the burning the sun. It was perfect, not until I got stung by a jellyfish in the arm. Thank you very much! It felt weird though, and I felt the venom making its way under my skin. Goodie we were able to ask for some vinegar in the nearby boat. It pacified the pain somehow.

So note to self, bring vinegar when you’re going to Manjuyod. Well, just a precautionary measure. :D

We got back to the city, and checked in at Worldview Hotel.

Since we still have time, we strolled around Dumaguete and tasted the much coveted cakes of Sans Rival. They were yummy! I wonder why there is no Manila branch yet.

It was a wonderful feeling, getting lost in the city. You wouldn’t mind being lost anyway, because a tricycle will always be there to bring you to your hotel. It’s a small town, and everyone most likely knows where your hotel is. Plus the tricycle fare is just P8.00 each.

We happen to stumble in the park where an event is taking place.  It was like a dancing contest, and we stayed for a while to watch these sprightly kids take on center stage.

We had dinner in this Japanese restaurant called Misune, and the food tasted healthy and fresh! I’m definitely coming back.

DAY 4

It’s our Apo Island Day, and well, no tourguide! Just pure DIY! OMG! This was a first, and we felt brave channelling our adventurous selves into this new place.

Here are our cute instructions on how to get to Apo Island:

We went out of the hotel at 7AM, and rode a tricyle to Siaton near Robinsons Dumaguete.

Take a jeepney to Malatapay Zamboanguita.

Walk towards the Apo Island port. Roughly around 10minutes.

This is the tricky part, you will rent a boat, and it would be better if you find some people who will share the boat with you, unless you’re a group with just the right number, as to minimize the cost per person. Since we’re a couple, we really need some people to share the boat with.

Boat Rentals:

4 seater – P2,000 / 6 seater – P2,500 / 8 seater – P3,000 / 10 seater – P3,500

4 seater boats usually are used first, that is why if your number is 4 below, it is better to go here early, so you can book the small boat. Good thing 4 Taiwanese travellers were in need of company too, since the only available boat is an 8-seater, we had to pay P3,000 and that’s P500.00 each. Not bad actually! Plus we made new friends!

You can buy food at the port already, because the food in Apo Island is a bit pricey, plus you still have to pay for the guide (which is required, and I also highly recommend Kuya Gerard; he was so skillful in diving and we handed him our action camera to which he took great photos of the sea), cottage table, and the gears you will use when you go swimming with the big turtles.

The turtles were huge and beautiful. It was sad because we went a bit late; the locals said that a lot of turtles go near the shore as early as 6AM!

After snorkeling and swimming, we had our lunch and took a stroll in the island. I was shocked that there is a community here. I actually thought that this is just an island used for tourism, but no. There are schools, a village, a basketball court, a lagoon, and an overlooking view from a hill. It was a beauty to behold!

At 3PM, we decided to go back. Our new friends are very accommodating too, we had a lot of time to talk about their country, their culture, and how they love going back to the Philippines. John and I wanted to visit Taiwan soon too because of them.

Going back was just the same. You could either hire a tricycle that will bring you back to the city, that will also cost higher, or you can wait for a jeep, but this was rather a long wait than I expected. If you’re a couple or probably 3 people travelling together, waiting for a jeep may be the best thing to do. But if you’re 4 and above, I suggest that you book a tricycle, and split the fare.

Jeepneys that pass by are rather full, and may not accommodate everybody at once.

We got to Dumaguete, and picked our stuff from Worldview Hotel. And moved to Coastal Inn. I booked it way before this trip, and since saving was the priority thing I have in mind, I got attracted to its price because duuuh, it’s just P430 a night!

I was thinking that we’ll arrive late from the tour that day so we we’ll just sleep, and we don’t need anything fancy. Well, lets just say we got the value we paid for.

After getting refreshed, we went back to SanS Rival, just because. And bought pasalubongs too! We bought the Butter Silvanas Sans Rival for P150 a box. If you want to buy pasalubongs, it’s best to buy it here in the main branch. Airport prices are relatively higher of course.

If you’re just concerned on about them being spoiled because you haven’t brought a freezer with you, don’t fret. The silvanas are strong, haha they will just feel softer, and you can put them back in the freezer or chiller once you get home.

We had dinner in Kri. And can I just tell you, that the food was prepared like gourmet, and who would have thought that this place could serve such great food! I will blog about my review in another post.

DAY 5

Flight back to Manila!! We didn’t book a tricycle going to the airport, we just hailed for the bus in Rizal Blvd. :D

Here is the breakdown of our expenses and some people you would want to contact when you go there. Enjoooy!

Kuya Judy (Dumaguete Tour) – 0905.879.86.52

Kuya Ronald (Siquijor Tour) – 0906.886.97.80

All prices are in Philippine Peso though. :) I think you can still try to maximize a budget even for as low as P8,000. We were a bit lucrative with the food, so you know where to save if ever!

I hope this blog enticed you more to visit Dumaguete and Siquijor. Promise, it’s all worth it! Please let me know your thoughts about this and comment down below! :D

**, Via

DIY Dumaguete-Siquijor Trip and Itinerary (5D/4n) Going to Dumaguete and Siquijor didn’t appeal to me before because first, I don’t know anybody there, and second, I haven’t heard anything touristy about it – until I realized how wrong I was.