#I think it’s only right that the bat queen should get to do the honors | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

syndxlla · 3 years

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Part nine of the More to Love series

Summary: Plans for the ball are in full swing, the concealment of your relationship with the knight dwindles and you make a deal with one another that leads to both of you learning a new and valuable skill

Word Count: 8.9k, NO USE OF ‘Y/N’

Warnings: SMUT (oral sex F receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms), swearing, mentions of wounds

Author’s Note: and we’re back to your regularly scheduled royalty and princesscore writings. this chapter is very chill honestly, but i still really enjoyed writing it! there’s also the introduction of THE DRESS. y’all this dress is insane you really aren’t ready i am OBSESSED with this dress.

Part eight

“Are you listening, Princess?” You hadn’t even realized you had zoned out. Your cheek was bright red from resting against your palm, and your eyes had glazed over with boredom. You hoped you didn’t look too uninterested, but considering the literal Queen of Mandalore looked down at you with folded arms and one arched eyebrow, you were less than confident that you looked engrossed in the conversation.

The Queen, Lady Reeves and yourself have been inside a yellow-themed parlor all morning discussing plans for the ball. Your Knight stood patiently by the door, overseeing the entire meeting. You wore a long sleeve dress that was too hot for the summer sun, which was slowly drying out the mud and puddles from then two-day long rainstorm that no one predicted. You spent the entire day yesterday pretending to rest from the exhausting day previous, but you were really hiding your arm from everyone else. You tried to argue with Koska that a long sleeve in the middle of summer would look for more suspicious than a simple bandage on your bicep, but she disagreed to say the least. The Knight stopped limping this morning, although you were convinced he was just faking it for good measure. If others knew he was injured, it could raise suspicion that you were too. You also think he didn’t want you to worry about him. The stab wound really wasn’t that deep, but you knew it had to have hurt more than he was showing. You thought he should take a few days off to rest his leg and to really spend time with his son, but he refused to.

You look up from your emotionless stare out the window, which showed the sea in the distance. The ocean was so different here compared to what it’s like in Corellia. There are sandy beaches and the water’s warm, whereas back home, it’s often frozen over, and is lined with rocky fjords and coves. You wanted to go down to one of those beaches soon if you could. They looked relaxing and much more intruiging than a wordy meeting that you stopped listening in on Lord knows when.

“Sorry, I just… zoned out for a minute.” You clear your throat, looking up at the ginger above you. You bat your eyelashes, trying do play off innocent and truthful. She shrugged, and turned around to pull something out of Koska’s hands.

“I was saying that now that we have the food and decor arranged for the ball, we can talk about the important things.” She says as she whips around for the big reveal that you weren’t expecting: iher arms was the most extravagant, fluffy gown you had ever seen. It was a soft rose gold, the skirt was huge and round, tulle pillowing out from the bodice which had clearly been hand-beaded by nimble fingers to have five-pedaled flowers with curly vines growing out of them. There was a soft sweet-heart neckline, the lace and beading of the bodice came up past the structure to overlap where your skin would be, The sleeves were off the shoulder, which was common for Mandalorian summer gowns. The skirt had a soft hint of sparkles and real diamonds had been sewn into the centers of each flower along the gown.

You perked up as you saw the ornament, your attention being drawn from the crashing waves of the ocean to the prettiest dress you had ever seen. You think you sighed, but you weren’t really sure. Dresses have always been a part of your life, designers from all over the world would send you their best sets, and it’s rare for you to wear the same gown more than once. This isn’t the first time you had been presented with a dress that costed more than some of the houses in the kingdom, but there was something different about it. It had a special glow to it, unlike anything you had ever seen.

“Her Radiance Ahsoka brought it, it’s a wedding gift from the Woodland elves.” Koska speaks up when she sees your reaction. Both her and the Queen were amused at your childlike awe. “That’s why it has that shimmer, they used silk spinners and gold.”

“I… I can’t accept this.” You wanted to, but you were desperately trying to be humble and calm in this situation. The dresses never meant that much to you, it’s just a piece of clothing. You have always been far more into the politics that came with royalty, not the fashion, so this was a first.

“Well of course you can.” The queen chuckled, “It would be rude not to.” You wished you could tell her that wearing such an extravagance would feel in vain because you did not feel affection towards the person you’ll be wearing it for. However, you supposed she was right, it would be rude to turn down a gift from the literal elves. You stand up from where you sat, walking over the dress that took your breath away. You wondered what the Knight thought of it, and you turn around to look at him. You know that he wouldn’t show any type of reaction over this thing, especially if the Queen is watching, but you wanted to show him that you were thinking of him. You smiled, raising your eyebrows to really show how beautiful you thought the gown was, you’ll get to talk about it with him later. This is the second time Koska see’s something like this between the two of you, and she first looks at you, and the knight, raising a sharp eyebrow.

You place your hand over the fabric, running your palm over it. You did nothing to deserve this, but you were honored that it’s yours. “It’s like a faerie’s dress.” You sigh. “It’s wonderful, when can I thank her Radiance?”

“She’s out and about, she usually meditates in the gardens on sunny days, I can retrieve her, if you’d like.” Koska speaks up.

“Oh that’s alright, I’ll find her eventually.” You smile.

“Interesting that you brought up the fae…” The Queen brings up, “Allow me to ask, it is your engagement ball, is there anything specific you would like to have incorporated?” A few days ago, you would have had no answer, because a few days ago there was nothing about Mandalore worth it to you. However, things have changed. You’ve spent sleepless nights thinking about the boy in the beskar armor, and you would give anything to dance with him at that ball. You knew damn well that if you asked nicely, and maybe gave him head in return, he would do almost anything you asked. He would happily dance with you alone in the room after the events of the night, although you weren’t even sure if he knew how to dance. You did want to waltz with him, but not in that way.

So, last night you stayed up late, laying on your back with the balcony doors just cracked open to let in the smell fo fresh rain and a cool breeze into the hot room, thinking about him. You especially thought about the soft skin of his thighs and the way he shuddered when you raked your fingernails down his abdomen. But you also thought about how you could dance with him at the ball, where everyone could see. You knew that you would be dancing with far more people than Korkie, it would be many people’s last (and only) chance to dance with you before you’re married, and so you’re expected to give everyone the opportunity and attention they desired. It wasn’t your favorite thing you’d have to do, especially considering you would be dancing with a number of complete strangers and total creeps of Viziers, Grand Dukes and old viscounts who would probably whisper dirty things in your ear. And that is part of why you wanted this one thing for yourself so badly.

Dancing with a mysterious stranger wouldn’t be a problem. You wanted to share your affection towards him, and you especially wanted him to see you in your true element of balls and parties and gowns and tiaras. You knew it was risky, especially considering you can hardly control yourself around him, who knows what the crowd may be whispering as you dreamily look up at him. But after having to move and change your entire life, marry a man you resent in a kingdom that goes against everything you’ve ever believed in, you owe yourself this one thing. Just this one.

However, dancing with a literal knight would be far too suspicious and obnoxious for the biggest event in the western part of the world. And you knew that he would never remove his helmet, even if his life depended on it. It would be no easy feat to convince him to do something like that in such little time, but that’s when you got the best idea to have possibly ever cross your mind.

When you were just a little girl, your nursery caretaker would sit you on her lap when you had droopy, tired eyes, and read you a story. You can’t remember what it was called, it’s been so long since you heard it, but it was your favorite. It was the tale of the masquerade ball where the young peasant girl fell in love with the handsome magician. You were always drawn into it, because you once hoped you would fall in love with a mysterious and handsome man, too.The point of the story was that she never saw his face, as they both had on extravagant swan masks covering their eyes. If everyone had their face covered, it wouldn’t look suspicious if he did, too. You knew it would be a big thing to ask, and he may not even agree to it if the Queen approves of the short-noticed theme, but you wanted to live at least one night as the young peasant girl.

“Yes, actually.” You began to reply, “I would love for my engagement ball to be a masquerade.” You made sure to add in the ‘my’ to reinstate that it is for you. The Queen stopped to consider what you asked, and Koska looked suprised. It’s rare for anyone to ask the Queen for something like that out flat. But, she was the one who brought it up.

The Queen made you wait in suspense for her answer, and every fiber of your being wanted to turn around and wink at the knight to let him know that you asked for him, but even you, the naive princess, knew that you needed to be more careful with sharing your memories with him when others are around. “I suppose we could arrange that.” She thinks out loud, and you can’t stop the smile that stretches across your face. The Queen really only agreed because she knew it would cause more buzz and conversation around her last event as Queen. Even you could see that, but if it meant you would get a chance to share the memory with your guard, it was worth it.

“Your Majesty, forgive me, but the ball is this weekend, I fear we will not have enough time to prepare for such a change in plans…” Koska spoke up.

“Well, not if we don’t have everyone in the palace working double time,” Both yours and Koska’s faces dropped, that is not what you wanted at all. “Every servant will be required to make ten masks before the ball on Saturday. Knights are exempt, obviously.” She placed the rose gold dress back in Koska’s arms. You immediately felt guilty.

“Oh that won’t be necessary, Your Majesty, I don’t want everyone to-“

“Oh nonsense,” She interrupted, “I love the masquerade idea, it will be grand. It will be the envy of Coruscant.” Was everything a battle for her? An endless contest of who’s the best between Mandalore and Coruscant? If everyone had extra work to do on top of their usual load, you would feel absolutely terrible, but there would be no changing the Queen’s mind. “As the head of the servants, you will oversee the masks, Lady Reeves.” Your face was in shock, pale and sick. Koska shot you an annoyed glare. You tried to respond with an apologetic smile, but the Queen was speaking up again, pacing as she spoke. “Of course we need the royals to stand out from everyone else, we’ll already have our gowns but the masks will make a difference too…” She thought out loud. “Koska I would like an owl mask as per usual, there will be gems incorporated as well I trust?”

“Yes, your Majesty.” She was not amused with her new task.

“As for our little Princess,” She was referring to you, but you couldn’t even listen out of guilt. Everything you tried in Mandalore somehow backfired on you. “Her dress is lovely, but her mask must also be the most extravagant in the room, after mine, of course. It would also be best if hers and my nephew’s matched, Yes?” Koska nodded, struggling to hold the heavy dress with her small stature. “Lovely, aren’t you just full of surprises, Your Highness?” The Queen smiled at you, and you forced a polite smile. “Now, excuse me, I have a designer to meet with to get as many feathers and adornments for masks as possible.” The redhead hastily exits the room, her high guard following her, leaving just you and Koska with your knight.

“What the fuck was that about?” Koska asked afterwards.

“I didn’t mean for any of the extra work to happen, I swear.” You defensively respond.

“You just love giving me a hard time, don’t you?” She asks.

“No- that not at all what-“

“Let her be, Koska.” Your knight steps into the conversation.

“Ugh you knights are so frustrating sometimes.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean, what is going on with you two?” She asks and your heart drops to your ass. Was it that obvious there was something more there? Your knight tensed up, too. “Yeah, I can see exactly what’s going on here. Would either of you like to explain?” She asks.

The two of you stood awkwardly like children who got caught stealing sweets from the kitchen. You wondered how you were going to get out of this one. Your entire world could come crashing down right now if you didn’t play this out correctly, and a thousand outcomes of this situation simultaneously played out in your head. Would she rat you out? Would it lead to your knights expulsion? Or would she keep it to herself? She seemed to have a history with your knight, although you didn’t know what that might be. Maybe she would be on your side, but you highly doubted it.

You blame yourself for all of this. You should have put a stop to all of this long ago, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. He has you tied around your finger, and you like it. You wondered what was going on through his mind, was he as nervous as you? He had to be, if not more worried about what would happen. Someone knowing about your secret relationship would only lead to you getting a tap on your knuckles and then they would try to hide it from society to keep your reputation clean, but it would be the end of his career and safety for him. You were selfish for this, and you knew it.

“What?” Is all your stupid mouth says. As if you hadn’t just had the most sporadic and stressful thought process of your entire life. After all that, the only thing you were able to come up with was “what?”. You thought your body might be shaking, but you weren’t totally sure. You wanted to look at the knight by your side, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Koska must have thought the same thing as you because after you just responded with an arrogant rhetorical question, her eyebrows raised like a mother angry with her teenage son. She scoffs, and walks to the other side of the parlor to place the gown down on a sofa. When her back was turned to you, you were somehow able to muster up the courage to look at the beskar-clad figure to your left. He didn’t look any different than, well, ever. Tall and broad and stoically looking ahead as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. But you knew better. He had to have had a similar thought process to your own. He never turned to look back at you, and that’s when the guilt really set in. This could have been prevented. It should have been prevented. You fiddle with your sleeve.

Koska comes back too soon, her arms folded over her chest and the same unamused look on her stupidly perfect face. “So, one of you better start talking now, or else I’m going to get impatient and go catch up with the Queen to do your chore.” She nods to you. Why was she doing this? What did she gain out of knowing any of this? It could be to protect Korkie, although you found that seriously hard to believe. From what you can tell, Koska could care less about the Mandalorian Prince.

You sigh out of embarrassment mostly, but know that you are the one who needs to speak up. This was your mistake, and so it was your responsibility to fix it. “This is all my fault,” You have to clear your throat after beginning because of how uncomfortably your words sit in your throat. “I take full responsibility for everything. Don’t blame him for anything.” You nod. He turns his head to look at you after you say this, and you wanted nothing more than to look back at him, but Koska had your gaze trapped.

“And what exactly do you mean by ‘everything’ and ‘anything’?” The lady-in-waiting asks.

You sigh again, knowing this was going to be hard to say. “I...allowed myself to be…” You carefully considered your word choice, “i-infatuated with the wrong man.” You finally get out. That was the first time you had said it in front of him, and only the second time you had said it outloud ever, the first being to the Elven Queen last week. “I shouldn’t have let it get so out of hand, but I fell under the spell of this Knight, and I don’t even know his name. I’ve never seen his face. In many ways, he’s a complete stranger to me.” You debated saying the next thing, but it just kind of spilled out, ‘A stranger who’s plagued my thoughts and actions since the day I got here.” It was hard for you to say, but there was something so liberating about saying it.

He never took his eyes off of you the entire time you spoke, but this time you were able to look back at him. Your eyes first looking down at the floor guiltily, and then they slowly make their way up his armor and to the visor on his helmet. You just looked there for a little bit while Koska processed what you were saying. You smiled genuinely at the knight, desperately trying to show him that everything you just said was true. For a moment, you weren’t sure if she was going to say anything at all, and the room fell silent.

“Well…” She begins, you can’t hear any disappointment in her tone yet, “You’re terrible at hiding it.” She sighs. Of all the things she could have said, you did not expect that.

“What?” You say like an absolute idiot for the second time. You look back at the woman.

“Look, I’ve known him for a long time.” She shakily breathes, looking at him, “We’ve actually been through a lot together.” He was still looking at you, “And honestly, Neither of us were ever cut out for the Royal life we’ve been living for a while now.” You wondered what she meant by that. “And to be frank, I could care less about your personal life.” She said to you about you, “But since he’s a friend, and you really don’t mean very much to me, no offense,”

“None taken.”

“I suppose I’ll just keep it to myself-“

The relief that overcame your body was unmatched. You can’t stop the grin that goes from ear to ear or the sigh of relief that danced on your lips and out of your lungs. You look over at him, who still hasn’t looked away from your face, but he sighs of relief, too. You see it in the way his armor shifts.

“-Under one condition.”

“Okay…”

“You have to start hiding it better, no more over the shoulder glances. Okay? This is me looking out for him.” She gestures to him with a nod. Was she really going to do this for you?

“No more glances, got it.” You repeat.

“There’s no telling what might happen to him if the wrong person finds out.” She clears her throat, and that statement scares you. You try not to let it take up too much of your thought. “And you have to act like nothing is different. You’re still engaged to the Prince and you’re still the future Queen-consort. I don’t give a damn about what happens behind closed doors, but when others are around you have to behave yourselves. This is me looking out for my kingdom, understood?”

“Understood.” You nod back, although you weren’t the biggest fan of that condition, you knew that was the price you had to pay to get what you wanted… well at least what you think you wanted. “You’re not going to tell the Queen?”

“If you do those things, she won’t hear a word about it.” Koska shrugs.

“And what about Korkie?”

“Stars, I cannot stand that boy. I don’t even talk to him.” She rolls her eyes and you chuckle. You’re happy you aren’t the only one who feels that way about the prince. “But I’m not going to cover or lie for you two, I’m not going to help you hide it or anything. Alright?”

“Of course.” You reply.

“Great. I have over five-hundered masks to make by Saturday, so I’ll be leaving now.” She finished and on her way out, she pushes the knight on the shoulder playfully.

The door closes.

“Stars.” You clear your throat and turn to look at him, before you can say anything, though, he’s picking you up by the waist, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of weightless flour, and carrying you over to the second sofa that isn’t taken up by a ridiculously large dress. You giggle when he does, blushing at his enthusiasm. You’re placed on your back and he kneels between your legs.

“You’re excited.” You chuckle and he hums in response. There isn’t very much room on the sofa but he makes his place. He then grabs the hem of your dress, pulling it up over first your thighs, then up past your hips, over the corset and up to your face. He covers your eyes with the skirt and it hides the cheesiest smile on your face. light still poured in from the fabric, but you weren’t able to see anything.

You then heard the sound of metal being placed on the floor next to you, and to your pleasant surprise, his lips and pressed tightly to yours through the fabric. The kiss obviously doesn’t make any contact, but you’ve learned that with the knight, it’s the thought that always counts. You’re smiling into the kiss like a dork, and you shudder when you feel his bare hands against your bare thighs. He pulls your legs open, and then pulls away from your separated kiss.

Your first moan comes when you feel his lips against your soft thighs. He licks up and down your right thigh first, his fingertips strong and faithful against the outer part of your legs. Your breathing hitches, and you hum with pleasure when he moves to your left thigh, taking the same amount of time to kiss, nibble and suck on your pillowy skin.

Then, before you can think any more about the heat and want in between your legs, he’s pulling down your petticoat painfully slow. You bite your lip, you knew where he was headed with this, and you were more than happy to welcome it. His index and middle finger run soft lines around your cunt, massaging the swollen and wet skin around your opening that only got wetter. Your clit begged for attention, but your arms were trapped under the position of the dress skirt, and you didn’t want to risk adjusting it in a way that would make him stop. You would have to patiently wait as he teased and prodded your lips, his free hand rubbing your thigh and occasionally making its way to firmly squeeze your ass cheek. Your breathing was needy and short as he took his time to get to know your core with the tips of his fingers, which were now wet and slick and making the friction smoother.

He then gently places a light kiss on your clit. It’s so soft that you’re only able to feel it because of how sensitive and hungry you are for that type of contact. You slightly finch when his lips touch the nerve, and you’re able to feel him smile against your skin. What you would give to see his face right now…. Then, before you can think any more, he’s licking a flat stripe up from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit where he flicks three times with the tip of his tongue. You gasp at the sensation, and try to suppress a moan. He then take his time to lick each separate lip of your sex, avoiding your actual opening but teasing in such an addictive way that you were willing to be patient for him.

The knight then finally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, pulsing with his lips and flicking back and forth quickly with the tip of his tongue. You do moan this time, a broken cry falling off of your needy lips. It was a euphoric feeling unlike anything you’ve experienced before and you loved every moment of it. His arms wrap around your upper thighs, holding you in place around his head as he moves down to lap at your pussy lips. He moans at the taste of you, diving his tongue into your folds and prodding your sensitive clit with his nose.

You whine short and quietly as he does, biting your lip and bucking your hips every now and then as he took care of your sex. He must have gone down on you for close to ten minutes straight, never coming up for fresh air and never stopping the steady pace he had. You aren’t sure how you didn’t cum immediately at the feeling of his plump lips against your clit, but you also aren’t sure how you didn’t blackout from the sheer pleasure of the feeling. It was addictive, and it only got better after he pulled away to spit on your cunt. He spits onto your folds and then brings his fingers up again to start fingering you, sliding in his pointer finger with no resistance and slowly pumping it in and out. His mouth finds its way back to your slit, sucking on it as he fingers you. The sound was filthy, it filled the parlor with wet, obscene noises accompanied by breathy moans and gentle hums. Every time he hummed against your clit, your back arched from the added pleasure. The vibrating of it was pure euphoric, and you knew you were a sopping mess in between your thighs.

His chin was wet from spit and arousal and for one quick moment he pulled his wet mouth away from your core to kiss and rub the juices of your cunt on your thighs. He nibbles a few times on either thigh, marking each with a litter of purple and red hickeys. Before adding a second finger, he pulls his hand out to gently and playfully slap your cunt. He uses his wet hand to tap your core five or six times, each tap getting harder. You moan out at the feeling, and squeeze your legs together against the feeling in a horny attempt to get more pleasure from the moment.

“Huh, would you look at that?” He asks, his voice low and hungry and full of lust. It’s the first thing he’s said in a while, and the indulgence of the oral sex cause you to nearly forget how much you loved his rough voice. “Do you like it when I slap your cunt?” You whine in response. “With your words, Princess.”

“Yes, Sir.” You whine like a bitch. He chuckles and slaps it again, harder this time. You shudder at the feeling and feel your climax coming on. You want to delay it for as long as possible, but your thighs start to shake when he puts his mouth back in you and pushed both his index and middle finger into your opening, pumping and curling and twisting his wrist to make the most wonderful combination of finger-fucking you could of have imagined.

“I’m gonna cum.” You barely get out before your spine is burning and your stomach is flexing as you cum hard and long against his tongue and on his fingers. You cry out in broken, heavenly bliss, and look for something to grasp onto as you hit your high, but you can’t find anything, which leads to your sporadic back arches. You’re panting, and he doesn’t stop kissing against your core while you cum on his tongue. You bite your lip and swear you might make it bleed a little. His grip on your thighs tightens while he pulls you against his mouth, preventing you from pulling away from the addictive exhilaration that is his kiss.

He licks you through the entire orgasm, and then some after. You think you’re being over-stimulated but you never have been before, so you aren’t really sure. Just when you think he’s going to stop, he doesn’t and he just takes his sweet old time lapping against your core and slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. You sharply breath in, your chest heaving against the dress and you desperately want to pull your dress down to see him and breath freshly again. The way he eats you out is so methodical, like he’s done it a thousand times (which wouldn’t necessarily surprise you), like it’s the only thing he’s ever eaten or the sweetest honey to ever grace his lips.

It begins to turn you on again, the pleasure shooting into your spine and down your littered thighs and melting against your clit. You can feel the gentle rub of his fingers against your thighs, stroking your skin as he takes you in. It’s heavenly and is the only thing you can think about. Your thoughts go numb and the only important thing in the entire world is the curly-haired boy at your expense.

You mutter and whisper swears, dirty words that aren’t meant to come out of a princess’ mouth but you can’t help it when you’re seeing white hot behind your eyes. He groans a few times too before his fingers speed back up to the pace they were at before you came the first time. Your dainty hands stroke lightly on your collar-bones as the pleasure fills your soul, licking your lips and trying to hold on for as long as possible before you cum again but you can already feel your second orgasm coming on. He uses a third finger to outline your lips, coating the tip in your slick and then slowly inserting the third and final finger into your cunt, helping you chase that final hit of release. The stretch is amazing, and you were surprised you were able to take it so well. This is when you realized that he’s been training you for something much bigger. The first time he fingered you wasn’t even any penetration, the second time was two fingers, just enough to stretch you that it hurt the right amount, and now this time, three fingers that felt amazing. You remembered the size of his cock, you knew it would be a challenge to take, but he was making sure you would be able to handle it and enjoy it as much as he will.

His focus goes from licking your clit to the fingers inside. He twists his wrist to make the curl and stretch your entrance. He collects the wetness and lets it make the glide and pump smoother. You’re so drenched and needy that the fluid is running out past his fingers and dripping onto the sofa cushion, staining it with your lust. He nips so slightly at your clit and just like that, your whole world comes crashing down. The orgasm is actually mind-numbing this time, and all you can do is moan and sob and claw at your own skin. Your scratch into your shoulders and collar-bone and it’s deliciously painful. Your thighs clamp against his head and he continues to finger you long and hard through the climax, cleaning your folds up as you cum against his tongue and fingers. You’re finally able to catch your breath, painting with droopy, lustful eyes but feeling completely fulfilled. He cleans up all the juices around your entrance, collecting the cum on his tongue and happily swallowing it down like it’s his last meal. You aren’t able to see it, but he then puts his fingers into his mouth, cleaning off the three that were knuckle-deep into your cunt. He groans at the taste, and wipes his mouth before planting one last, gentle kiss to the soft, angelic skin of the mound between your legs. You're so sensitive that the light kiss makes you flinch, and he chuckles at the involuntary reaction.

He puts his helmet back on and then pulls your dress skirt down to see your face. You’re surprised by the light initially, and you blink a few times to adjust to it. Your lungs fill with crisp air and you look at your favorite sight: the helm of the knight you think you’re falling in love with. You can’t stop the smile on your face. He chuckles and then readjusts your dress to cover you up better. He takes such good care of you. You see him freeze when he sees the scratch marks on your skin, and his bare hand softly runs over the red lines, outlining the marks. You blush at him, looking up at his expressionless face with a puppy-love look.

“Everytime I think it can’t get any better, you prove me wrong.” You sigh. Every orgasm has been better than the last.

“Just you wait.” You hear the smirk under the helmet and it causes butterflies to flutter in your tummy. You sigh, still catching your breath and you just take him in, looking up at how he’s propped up above you. He has hands on either side of your head and he’s just a brudding force of metal and sex and good kissing and caring about things that you didn’t even know you needed someone to care about. You probably look like a dork just smiling up at him but you don’t even care and now your hands are free to wrap around his neck and you just wish you could see his face and kiss it all over right now.

Your fingers lock behind his neck and the positioning of his armor and the way his head is bent makes it so you can just barely feel the skin of his neck. You move your index fingers up to look for the curls at the nape of his neck. You think you could sing out when you found the prize: some strands of dark, brown, thick hair hidden under the helmet. You twirl them around your fingers and that action alone is worth a million kisses. The feeling in your heart is second to none and you wished you could stay in this still moment forever.

“Did you mean what you said?” He speaks up in reference to what you told Koska about him.

“Every word of it.” You state, genuinely meaning it as you said it. He did respond but something told you he was smiling under all that armor. He sighs, and then lets his arms go weak so he’s falling onto you. You groan at the surprise and the sheer weight of both his broad body and the heavy armor on top. The air is pushed out of your lungs but at least he’s pressed into you, your hands still toying with his curly hair. You can hear him chuckle, and you wanted to freeze time.

“Someone’s gonna see us if we stay like this.” He mutters as you tilt your head to have it rest on top of his helmet.

“Then let them.”

He doesn’t reply to what you say, and you debate if it was even the right thing to say. When you’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted, it’s hard to grasp the concept that someone may not want the same thing. You’re selfish for not caring about his safety and status in these types of situations. He grunts as he pushes himself back up and stands again, leaving only you on the sofa.

“How’s the arm?”

“It’s fine.” You roll your eyes, you don’t want everyone to worry so much anymore.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You reply more forcefully this time, sitting up on the couch.

“Just making sure.”

“Yeah, yeah…” You sigh, and consider your next words, “I was wondering if I could ask you something.” You sit with your palms flat against the cushion, making aware of the wet spot on the fabric and smirking fondly at it.

“Anything, your Highness.” He nods.

“Well… I wondered if maybe I could teach you how to dance?” You were nervous about what his response may be.

“Oh Stars-“ He chuckles.

“What!?”

“I had a feeling that masquerade might have something to do with me.” He puts his hands on his hips like he’s scolding you but there’s a guilty part of you that you like about it.

“Well it isn’t just about you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“...no.” He already knew you so well. He chuckles at your response. “So… what’s your answer?”

“Dancing isn't my style…”

“I don’t believe that.” You tilt your head. “Come on, it’s super easy and it would mean a lot to me.” You try convincing. He sighs and considers what you’re offering. “I can give you something in return…” You bite your lip, teasing. He chuckles just once.

“Alright-”

“What!? Really??” You stand up from excitement, you weren’t really expecting him to agree.

“But, only if you let me teach you something in return.” You nod in agreement, your hands coming to fold in your lap. You were expecting him to refer to something sexual, but his words prove you wrong, “I wanna teach you how to fight.”

“What?” Why would you ever need that?” It’s rare for royals to learn such a skill, especially princesses. You understood that it would be valuable, but you weren’t completely sure if you were up to the task.

“Well more than anything, I want to teach you how to defend yourself. So something like Keldabe doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay…” You were tentative to agree.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You shrug, “If it means I get to dance with you at the ball, I would be more than happy to learn.”

“Great. Let’s start then.” He takes a step back and holds his hand out for you to take.

“What?” You place your palm in his and he pulls you up off the couch, “right now?”

“Yes, c’mere.” You were nervous and honestly your legs were still weak from cumming twice, but you follow him as he begins to talk. “I’ll just teach you a few things and then you can teach me how to dance I guess.”

“Stop being a pill.” You tease.

“Only if you stop, too.” He teases right back at you which leads to a scoff from your lips. He ignores you. “When you're defending yourself, you always wanna protect your face, okay?”

“Protect my face, got it.” You repeat. He holds his arms up in front of his helmet, his hands fisted.

“Mimic my pose.” You roll your eyes but mirror him, holding your arms to guard your face. “See, is that so hard?”

“Shut up.”

“Yes ma’am.” He sarcastically replies. “You can’t do much if you can’t see, so that’s why you gotta protect your face. If you wore a helmet you wouldn’t need to do this.”

“But I would always be wearing a helmet…”

“It’s not so bad.” He shrugs.

“Something tells me that you don’t believe that.” You drop your arms from your face to say that, which was obviously a mistake, because instead of responding to your claim (which was probably right), he's jabbing his arm out towards your face. He’s not close enough to hit you but the quick and unexpected action is enough to startle you back. You lose your balance and fall down on the ground, wincing when you hit the ground and regretting agreeing to this. Your arms wrap into a frustrated position and you frown up at him. You look up at him surprised and a little pissed, and he just starts laughing. “What was that?”

“You let your guard down.” He says between laughs. He does hold his hand out for you to help you back up, and you take it to your own dismay. He hoists you up quickly, and you have to re-establish your balance.

“You are impossible.” You put your arms back over your face, ready to try again.

“You like it.”

“Are you gonna teach me or not?” He wasn't wrong but you figured you’d have to try and beat him at his own game.

“Are you gonna let me?”

“Just go.” You roll your eyes again.

“This will also protect your ribs. Can’t do much if the wind is knocked out of you, either.” He explains. “You also want to stand wide, it’ll help you keep your balance.” He kicks your feet out to be shoulder width which breaks every rule in the book of princess manners. “And prevent… falling on the floor.”

“This isn’t exactly easy to do in a corset, you know.” You argue.

“And dancing won’t be easy in armor but here we are.” He shrugs, and you suppose he’s right. Neither of you are cut out for the tasks at hand. “When fighting someone without armor, you’re gonna want to go for their face, their eyes are vulnerable and you can do real damage on their nose.”

“Okay….” You try to remember what he was saying, making a mental note for any future situations, although you’re still skeptical. “And what about someone with armor on?” You ask, trying not to show the smirk on your face.

“Well the guy in Keldabe did everything right, he found where the weak points of my armor was and attacked them-“

“So here?” You ask before reeling back your arm and swinging it as hard as you can into his shoulder where there was only chain mail. Your fist crashes into the metal, and you immediately regret it. “Shit!” You pull your hand back and look at your bright red knuckles, shaking your hand a few times as you try to brush the shock away.

“...Yeah, right there.” On the bright side, he seemed to be surprised by it enough that he made a little groan from the contact that turned you on way more than it should have. “But now you fucked up your hand.”

“You think?” You place the angry knuckles at your mouth, trying not to be too upset about the pain shooting through your hand.

“Punching chainmail is always gonna hurt, especially if you do it wrong… like that.”

“So how do I do it right!?” You’re determined now. No one has ever put you in your place, you’ve always gotten what you wanted, and you wanted to prove to him that you could do it.

“Why are you so eager to inflict pain on me?” He asks, you can hear the teasing in his tone but you can’t blame him for feeling that way. Perhaps you did come off a little anxious.

“I don’t know… I guess I just want to prove something to you.” You sigh, still pissed off by the pain in your hand. You’re so distracted by it that you hardly notice him walking towards you. His gentle and soft bare hands take your fist away from your mouth. You’re tentative at first, but let him take it in his hand, cupping it in between his and looking down at your red skin. You frown mostly out of frustration, but the pain is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. Princesses aren’t supposed to feel pain.

Before you can blink, he pulls his top hand away and takes it to lift up his helmet just above his lips. The angle makes it so you can’t see any of his face but you understand. He bends down and kisses your knuckles in the same fashion one would when greeting you, but this was so much more intimate. His lips were like satin against your skin and the butterflies in your stomach fly right back. The physical pain didn’t go away, but the anger around it did. Your heart softened and wished he would kiss your lips but he’s already pulling the beskar back over his jaw. You sigh from the gesture, he was so romantic and you don’t even think he’s trying to be. He’s just trying to be kind and patient with you and it’s doing something to your heart that you don’t know if you can handle anymore.

“So… how do you waltz?” He asks, his hand still holding onto yours. You smile and sheepishly look down at your feet. You were unsure of how to begin, but were happy he was willing to learn.

“Okay.” You smile, “Well, you first need to loosen up. Stop being so stiff.” He tilts his head like you’re speaking a foreign language. “Like this.” You press your hands down on his shoulder pauldrons, he tries to rest them but fails and you chuckle just a little. “Roll them back.” You explain and do it yourself, he attempts to follow, and actually is able to relax a little bit more this time. Knights are always so stiff, you think it will be good for him to relax every now and then. “Good, now this hand goes here…” You lift his right hand to rest on your waist and he immediately settles into it, already feeling more comfortable now that he is holding you. You place your left hand on his shoulder, pulling your bodies a little closer together. He wanted your torsos to be flush against one another, “No, we have to keep our distance so we have room to do the steps.” You explain.

“Well that’s no fun.” He sighs. You blush and giggle.

“If we get this done I promise you can hold me as long as you want.” You tilt your head trying to make a fair compromise.

“Fine.” He’ll take it.

“Great, now we hold these hands.” You take his left hand and hold it into yours. “That’s the basic position, I learned it as home position, got it?”

“Home position…?” He repeats.

“Mhm.” You nod, your faces are close and you would give anything to feel his breath against yours. “It’s important that we sort of… ‘glide’ like we bounce as we dance, it will make it prettier.” He was convinced you were always pretty no matter what you tried or did, but we guessed he would comply this time. Your voice goes quiet and soft, the mood immediately changing from teasing to harmonious. “And your feet… okay this is sort of complicated but your left foot will go forward as my right goes back-“ You keep looking down at the floor as you try to explain the steps but his gaze is on your face, hardly listening to what you're saying and only being engulfed in your face and the way you talked about doing something you loved. You were so beautiful and you didn’t even know it.

You must have been talking for a while without really listening to yourself because he was slowly pulling you into his torso and closing the space without you really noticing that you were inches closer than you were before. “-and then your left foot will slide to meet your right foot-“ the last word fades out as you slowly look back up to his face which was now up close to yours, your bodies pressed together and both of his hands on your hips, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your back. Your heart skips a beat and you forget how to breathe as you look up at him and it just felt… right.

Your hands lift from his pauldron to his helmet and you want to take it off so badly. You knew it was too fast still, and he would remove his helmet for you when he felt like he could. At least that’s what you hoped for. It should be his decision, no one else’s. But your hands are grazing the bottom of the beskar and everything feels so right. He’s so still and his breath is quiet and for just a moment you think he might let you and then-

The door knob is turning slowly and both of you are splitting away all too fast, trying to make enough space between the two of you so it didn’t look suspicious. You both scramble, trying to put yourselves back together. The still and perfect moment was entirely gone when Prince Korkie opened up the door into the parlor. You tried not to look too shocked when his stupid perfect hair and young face looked on you. The knight held his hands behind his back to hide the fact that they were bare and side-eyed the gloves on the sofa that laid by the wet stain on the cushion. He silently prayed that the Prince wouldn’t notice them.

“Ah, princess I was wondering where you were.” He looked between the two of you. He didn’t seem too suspicious, thank the stars.

“Korkie! What are you doing?” You awkwardly laugh. Your hands fold at waist level, and you fix your posture.

“Did… I walk in on something?” He asks and your whole body goes numb. You swallow and try not to pass out. The truth is yes, he did walk in on something very important to you, but here we are.

“Oh! No, we were just…” You search around the room looking for something to take the attention away from you and the knight, “Admiring the beautiful dress the Elves gave me!” You walk to the heavy, iridescent gown on the clean sofa, picking it up to show him. You smile desperately, hoping that would be enough.

“Ah yes! It is beautiful, isn’t it?” He nods, smiling. You sigh of relief when he falls for the bait. You set the dress back down.

“Can I do anything for you?” You ask,a king sure there was no attention on the knight being you.

“I… just wanted to spend a bit of time with you. My aunt informed me of the changes to the Ball. What a wonderful idea!”

“Why thank you.” You smile, taking a few steps towards him in a hopeless attempt to not seem so suspicious.

“Yes! I had just received the RSVPS from a number of the guests. Your parents, the twins of Naboo, the senator of Alderaan and Princess of Chandrila and I’m pleased to say that we’ve found no suspicion of any attack from Coruscant!” Stars, he talks a lot. You aren’t sure how he can have any more breath to talk. You were starting to decide that you liked the boys who were more reserved.

Well… one boy.

“Oh… Um, of course. That’s great news.” You nod and finish your walk towards him, suddenly hyper-aware of the fading scratches on your collar bone.

“Come with me, we should review the letters together.” You look back at the knight apologetically before walking into the hallway with the Prince. This isn’t exactly how you hoped your afternoon would go...

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Part ten

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butterflies-dragons · 3 years

Text

SANSA STARK & TARGARYEN IMAGERY

A list of Targaryen Imagery around Sansa Stark in A Song of Ice and Fire

Fire and Blood

Black and Red

Silver and Purple

Dragon's Tail

Dragon Wings

Dragon Eggs

Dragon Skulls

Golden Dragons

Dragon Knights

Valyrian Steel

Dance of the Dragons

Maegor the Cruel

Baelor the Blessed

Aegon the Unworthy

Prince Aemon the Dragonknight

Aerys the Mad King

Rhaegar the ast dragon

Bonus: Fiery Hair

1. FIRE AND BLOOD

Sansa slid off her mare, but she was too slow. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the prince's head, and then everything happened at once before Sansa's horrified eyes. Joffrey staggered and whirled around, roaring curses. Mycah ran for the trees as fast as his legs would take him. Arya swung at the prince again, but this time Joffrey caught the blow on Lion's Tooth and sent her broken stick flying from her hands. The back of his head was all bloody and his eyes were on fire.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

The point of Ser Gregor's lance had snapped off in his neck, and his life's blood flowed out in slow pulses, each weaker than the one before. His armor was shiny new; a bright streak of fire ran down his outstretched arm, as the steel caught the light. Then the sun went behind a cloud, and it was gone. His cloak was blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer's day, trimmed with a border of crescent moons, but as his blood seeped into it, the cloth darkened and the moons turned red, one by one.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

The blood orange had left a blotchy red stain on the silk. "I hate her!" she screamed. She balled up the dress and flung it into the cold hearth, on top of the ashes of last night's fire. When she saw that the stain had bled through onto her underskirt, she began to sob despite herself. She ripped off the rest of her clothes wildly, threw herself into bed, and cried herself back to sleep.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

When the king's herald moved forward, Sansa realized the moment was almost at hand. She smoothed down the cloth of her skirt nervously. She was dressed in mourning, as a sign of respect for the dead king, but she had taken special care to make herself beautiful. Her gown was the ivory silk that the queen had given her, the one Arya had ruined, but she'd had them dye it black and you couldn't see the stain at all. She had fretted over her jewelry for hours and finally decided upon the elegant simplicity of a plain silver chain.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa V

Then she realized that the blood had soaked through the sheet into the featherbed, so she bundled that up as well, but it was big and cumbersome, hard to move. Sansa could get only half of it into the fire. She was on her knees, struggling to shove the mattress into the flames as thick grey smoke eddied around her and filled the room, when the door burst open and she heard her maid gasp.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa IV

When she crawled out of bed, long moments later, she was alone. She found his cloak on the floor, twisted up tight, the white wool stained by blood and fire.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VII

"The dwarf's wife did the murder with him," swore an archer in Lord Rowan's livery. "Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws."

—A Storm of Swords - Jaime VII

As the boy's lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

2. BLACK AND RED

The queen wore a high-collared black silk gown, with a hundred dark red rubies sewn into her bodice, covering her from neck to bosom. They were cut in the shape of teardrops, as if the queen were weeping blood.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

Tyrion wore a doublet of black velvet covered with golden scrollwork, thigh-high boots that added three inches to his height, a chain of rubies and lions’ heads. But the gash across his face was raw and red, and his nose was a hideous scab. “You are very beautiful, Sansa,” he told her.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

3. SILVER AND PURPLE

Sansa closed the shutters and turned sharply away from the window. "You look very lovely today, my lady," Ser Arys said.

"Thank you, ser." Knowing that Joffrey would require her to attend the tourney in his honor, Sansa had taken special care with her face and clothes. She wore a gown of pale purple silk and a moonstone hair net that had been a gift from Joffrey. The gown had long sleeves to hide the bruises on her arms. Those were Joffrey's gifts as well. When they told him that Robb had been proclaimed King in the North, his rage had been a fearsome thing, and he had sent Ser Boros to beat her.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

"You've waited so long, be patient awhile longer. Here, I have something for you." Ser Dontos fumbled in his pouch and drew out a silvery spiderweb, dangling it between his thick fingers.

It was a hair net of fine-spun silver, the strands so thin and delicate the net seemed to weigh no more than a breath of air when Sansa took it in her fingers. Small gems were set wherever two strands crossed, so dark they drank the moonlight. "What stones are these?"

"Black amethysts from Asshai. The rarest kind, a deep true purple by daylight."

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VIII

Sansa wore a gown of silvery satin trimmed in vair, with dagged sleeves that almost touched the floor, lined in soft purple felt. Shae had arranged her hair artfully in a delicate silver net winking with dark purple gemstones. Tyrion had never seen her look more lovely, yet she wore sorrow on those long satin sleeves. "Lady Sansa," he told her, "you shall be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight."

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

4. DRAGON WINGS

Tyrion scarce touched his food, Sansa noticed, though he drank several cups of the wine. For herself, she tried a little of the Dornish eggs, but the peppers burned her mouth. Otherwise she only nibbled at the fruit and fish and honeycakes. Every time Joffrey looked at her, her tummy got so fluttery that she felt as though she'd swallowed a bat.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

"What wife?"

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head."

—A Storm of Swords - Arya XIII

5. DRAGON EGGS

Butterbumps arrived before the food, dressed in a jester’s suit of green and yellow feathers with a floppy coxcomb. An immense round fat man, as big as three Moon Boys, he came cartwheeling into the hall, vaulted onto the table, and laid a gigantic egg right in front of Sansa. “Break it, my lady,” he commanded. When she did, a dozen yellow chicks escaped and began running in all directions. “Catch them!” Butterbumps exclaimed. Little Lady Bulwer snagged one and handed it to him, whereby he tilted back his head, popped it into his huge rubbery mouth, and seemed to swallow it whole. When he belched, tiny yellow feathers flew out his nose. Lady Bulwer began to wail in distress, but her tears turned into a sudden squeal of delight when the chick came squirming out of the sleeve of her gown and ran down her arm.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa I

In the Queen's Ballroom they broke their fast on honeycakes baked with blackberries and nuts, gammon steaks, bacon, fingerfish crisped in breadcrumbs, autumn pears, and a Dornish dish of onions, cheese, and chopped eggs cooked up with fiery peppers.

[…] Tyrion scarce touched his food, Sansa noticed, though he drank several cups of the wine. For herself, she tried a little of the Dornish eggs, but the peppers burned her mouth.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

6. DRAGON’S TAIL

The morning of King Joffrey's name day dawned bright and windy, with the long tail of the great comet visible through the high scuttling clouds. Sansa was watching it from her tower window when Ser Arys Oakheart arrived to escort her down to the tourney grounds. "What do you think it means?" she asked him.

"Glory to your betrothed," Ser Arys answered at once. "See how it flames across the sky today on His Grace's name day, as if the gods themselves had raised a banner in his honor. The smallfolk have named it King Joffrey's Comet."

Doubtless that was what they told Joffrey; Sansa was not so sure. "I've heard servants calling it the Dragon's Tail."

"King Joffrey sits where Aegon the Dragon once sat, in the castle built by his son," Ser Arys said. "He is the dragon's heir—and crimson is the color of House Lannister, another sign. This comet is sent to herald Joffrey's ascent to the throne, I have no doubt. It means that he will triumph over his enemies."

Is it true? she wondered. Would the gods be so cruel? Her mother was one of Joffrey's enemies now, her brother Robb another. Her father had died by the king's command. Must Robb and her lady mother die next? The comet was red, but Joffrey was Baratheon as much as Lannister, and their sigil was a black stag on a golden field. Shouldn't the gods have sent Joff a golden comet?

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

7. DRAGON SKULLS

Within, the dragon skulls were waiting, and so was Shae. “I thought m’lord had forgotten me.” Her dress was draped over a black tooth near as tall as she was, and she stood within the dragon’s jaws, nude. Balerion, he thought. Or was it Vhagar? One dragon skull looked much like another.

[...] After, as they lay entwined amongst the dragon skulls, he rested his head against her, inhaling the smooth clean smell of her hair. “We should go back,” he said reluctantly. “It must be near dawn. Sansa will be waking.

[...] The Others can take my guilt, he thought as he slipped his tunic over his head. Why should I be guilty? My wife wants no part of me, and most especially not the part that seems to want her. Perhaps he ought to tell her about Shae. It was not as though he was the first man ever to keep a concubine. Sansa’s own oh-so-honorable father had given her a bastard brother. For all he knew, his wife might be thrilled to learn that he was fucking Shae, so long as it spared her his unwelcome touch.

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VII

8. GOLDEN DRAGONS

"The queen raised her voice. "A hundred golden dragons to the man who brings me its skin!”

“A costly pelt,” Robert grumbled. “I want no part of this, woman. You can damn well buy your furs with Lannister gold.”

[...] Shortly, Jory brought him Ice.

When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.”

“All that way?” Jory said, astonished.

“All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.”

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard III

"Petyr Baelish put a hand on the rail. "But first you’ll want your payment. Ten thousand dragons, was it?”

“Ten thousand.” Dontos rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “As you promised, my lord.”

[...] “But he saved me.”

“He sold you for a promise of ten thousand dragons.

[...]“Sansa felt sick. "He said he was my Florian.”

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa V

“Your sister’s had no difficulty finding witnesses to your guilt.” Ser Kevan rolled up the parchment. “Ser Addam has men hunting for your wife. Varys has offered a hundred stags for word of her whereabouts, and a hundred dragons for the girl herself. If the girl can be found she will be found, and I shall bring her to you. I see no harm in husband and wife sharing the same cell and giving comfort to one another.”

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion IX

Someplace no stag ever found … though a dragon might.

—A Feast for Crows - Brienne III

"A good melee is all a hedge knight can hope for, unless he stumbles on a bag of dragons. And that's not likely, is it?"

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

9. DRAGON KNIGHTS

She shouted for Ser Dontos, for her brothers, for her dead father and her dead wolf, for gallant Ser Loras who had given her a red rose once, but none of them came. She called for the heroes from the songs, for Florian and Ser Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, but no one heard.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa IV

"True knights would never harm women and children." The words rang hollow in her ears even as she said them.

"True knights." The queen seemed to find that wonderfully amusing. "No doubt you're right. So why don't you just eat your broth like a good girl and wait for Symeon Star-Eyes and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight to come rescue you, sweetling. I'm sure it won't be very long now."

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa V

They continued down the serpentine and across a small sunken courtyard. Ser Dontos shoved open a heavy door and lit a taper. They were inside a long gallery. Along the walls stood empty suits of armor, dark and dusty, their helms crested with rows of scales that continued down their backs. As they hurried past, the taper's light made the shadows of each scale stretch and twist. The hollow knights are turning into dragons, she thought.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa V

10. VALYRIAN STEEL

Lord Tywin waited until last to present the king with his own gift: a longsword. Its scabbard was made of cherrywood, gold, and oiled red leather, studded with golden lions' heads. The lions had ruby eyes, she saw. The ballroom fell silent as Joffrey unsheathed the blade and thrust the sword above his head. Red and black ripples in the steel shimmered in the morning light.

[…] "A great sword must have a great name, my lords! What shall I call it?"

[…] The guests were shouting out names for the new blade. Joff dismissed a dozen before he heard one he liked. "Widow's Wail!" he cried.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

But she had another longsword hidden in her bedroll. She sat on the bed and took it out. Gold glimmered yellow in the candlelight and rubies smoldered red. When she slid Oathkeeper from the ornate scabbard, Brienne's breath caught in her throat. Black and red the ripples ran, deep within the steel. Valyrian steel, spell-forged. It was a sword fit for a hero. When she was small, her nurse had filled her ears with tales of valor, regaling her with the noble exploits of Ser Galladon of Morne, Florian the Fool, Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, and other champions. Each man bore a famous sword, and surely Oathkeeper belonged in their company, even if she herself did not. "You'll be defending Ned Stark's daughter with Ned Stark's own steel," Jaime had promised.

—A Feast for Crows - Brienne I

11. DANCE OF THE DRAGONS

Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the "Dance of the Dragons," Ned inspected the bruise himself. "I hope Forel is not being too hard on you," he said.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard VII

He sang of the Dance of the Dragons, of fair Jonquil and her fool, of Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies. He sang of betrayals, and murders most foul, of hanged men and bloody vengeance. He sang of grief and sadness.

—A Feast for Crows - Sansa I

12. MAEGOR THE CRUEL

The room where Sansa had been confined was at the top of the highest tower of Maegor's Holdfast.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

In the tower room at the heart of Maegor's Holdfast, Sansa gave herself to the darkness.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI

13. BAELOR THE BLESSED

"Baelor starved himself to death, fasting," said Tyrion. "His uncle served him loyally as Hand, as he had served the Young Dragon before him. Viserys might only have reigned a year, but he ruled for fifteen, while Daeron warred and Baelor prayed." He made a sour face. "And if he did remove his nephew, can you blame him? Someone had to save the realm from Baelor's follies."

Sansa was shocked. "But Baelor the Blessed was a great king. He walked the Boneway barefoot to make peace with Dorne, and rescued the Dragonknight from a snakepit. The vipers refused to strike him because he was so pure and holy."

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

14. AEGON THE UNWORTHY

Aegon the Unworthy had never harmed Queen Naerys, perhaps for fear of their brother the Dragonknight . . . but when another of his Kingsguard fell in love with one of his mistresses, the king had taken both their heads.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

"A king can have other women. Whores. My father did. One of the Aegons did too. The third one, or the fourth. He had lots of whores and lots of bastards." As they whirled to the music, Joff gave her a moist kiss. "My uncle will bring you to my bed whenever I command it."

Sansa shook her head. "He won't."

"He will, or I'll have his head. That King Aegon, he had any woman he wanted, whether they were married or no."

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

15. PRINCE AEMON THE DRAGONKNIGHT

He took her by the arm and led her away from the wheelhouse, and Sansa's spirits took flight. A whole day with her prince! She gazed at Joffrey worshipfully. He was so gallant, she thought. The way he had rescued her from Ser Ilyn and the Hound, why, it was almost like the songs, like the time Serwyn of the Mirror Shield saved the Princess Daeryssa from the giants, or Prince Aemon the Dragonknight championing Queen Naerys's honor against evil Ser Morgil's slanders.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

"Father, I only just now remembered, I can't go away, I'm to marry Prince Joffrey." She tried to smile bravely for him. "I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies."

"Sweet one," her father said gently, "listen to me. When you're old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who's worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother's queen.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

For those who remained, a singer was brought forth to fill the hall with the sweet music of the high harp. He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother's queen, of Nymeria's ten thousand ships. They were beautiful songs, but terribly sad. Several of the women began to weep, and Sansa felt her own eyes growing moist.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VI

16. AERYS THE MAD KING

"Ser Ilyn has not been feeling talkative these past fourteen years," Lord Renly commented with a sly smile.

Joffrey gave his uncle a look of pure loathing, then took Sansa's hands in his own. "Aerys Targaryen had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

"The battleground is right up ahead, where the river bends. That was where my father killed Rhaegar Targaryen, you know. He smashed in his chest, crunch, right through the armor." Joffrey swung an imaginary warhammer to show her how it was done. "Then my uncle Jaime killed old Aerys, and my father was king."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

"You can't talk to me that way. The king can do as he likes."

"Aerys Targaryen did as he liked. Has your mother ever told you what happened to him?"

Ser Boros Blount harrumphed. "No man threatens His Grace in the presence of the Kingsguard."

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa III

17. RHAEGAR THE LAST DRAGON

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

"My father told everyone my bedding had caught fire, and our maester gave me ointments. Ointments! Gregor got his ointments too. Four years later, they anointed him with the seven oils and he recited his knightly vows and Rhaegar Targaryen tapped him on the shoulder and said, 'Arise, Ser Gregor.'"

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

18. BONUS: FIERY HAIR

Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

"You will be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight, as lovely as your lady mother at your age. I cannot seat you on the dais, but you'll have a place of honor above the salt and underneath a wall sconce. The fire will be shining in your hair, so everyone will see how fair of face you are. Keep a good long spoon on hand to beat the squires off, sweetling. You will not want green boys underfoot when the knights come round to beg you for your favor."

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

#sansa stark #jonsa

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dontbipanicjonsa · 3 years

Text

Dutiful Sansa Stark

Plus some extra stuff about perceptions and POV traps

Read under the cut-

Tyrion

"No," Sansa said at once. "You . . . you are kind to offer, but . . . there are no devotions, my lord. No priests or songs or candles. Only trees, and silent prayer. You would be bored."

"No doubt you're right." She knows me better than I thought. "Though the sound of rustling leaves might be a pleasant change from some septon droning on about the seven aspects of grace." Tyrion waved her off. "I won't intrude. Dress warmly, my lady, the wind is brisk out there."

He was tempted to ask what she prayed for, but Sansa was so dutiful she might actually tell him, and he didn't think he wanted to know.

xxx

He wondered what Sansa would do if he leaned over and kissed her right now. Flinch away, most likely. Or be brave and suffer through it, as was her duty. She is nothing if not dutiful, this wife of mine. If he told her that he wished to have her maidenhead tonight, she would suffer that dutifully as well, and weep no more than she had to.

Littlefinger

A true daughter would not refuse her sire a kiss, so Alayne went to him and kissed him, a quick dry peck upon the cheek, and just as quickly stepped away.

"How . . . dutiful." Littlefinger smiled with his mouth, but not his eyes.

xxx

She hugged him dutifully and kissed him on the cheek. "I am sorry to intrude, Father. No one told me you had company."

"You are never an intrusion, sweetling. I was just now telling these good knights what a dutiful daughter I had."

"Dutiful and beautiful," said an elegant young knight whose thick blond mane cascaded down well past his shoulders.

That's a lot of dutiful.

On the surface it seems like these two situations- one with Tyrion and one with LF- parallel each other; creepy, older men interested in Sansa think she's too 'dutiful' because she suffers through their attentions. However, when we dig deeper it becomes clear that the two situations actually contrast in subtle ways.

Tyrion

Tyrion calls her dutiful, but what duty is she fulfilling? She actually fails to fulfil her biggest duty to him i.e. having his babies (ew).

Or rather, she refuses to do her duty to him.

"On my honor as a Lannister," the Imp said, "I will not touch you until you want me to."

It took all the courage that was in her to look in those mismatched eyes and say, "And if I never want you to, my lord?"

His mouth jerked as if she had slapped him. "Never?"

Cue me falling ever deeper in love

This is a powerful scene. Tyrion is willing to give her an inch, but she goes and takes a mile. She could have just said "yes, I'll let you know when I want you" and then never let him know, but instead she said that. His plan was to postpone the consummation, but now she’s taken the opportunity to tell him that if she had her way, they would never consummate their marriage. He can still go through with it, but with this one statement (knowingly or unknowingly) she's put the onus of choice on him. He can still touch her, he can still consummate the marriage- but Sansa will never want him to. It’s still her ‘duty’ to suffer through it, but now any future sexual contact between them is undoubtedly in the non-con category.

That doesn't sound like Sansa is just reluctant to do her duty, it sounds like she's rejecting it.

In fact, Sansa is basically never shown to think about her 'duties' as his wife. Eating lunch with him may be her 'duty', but she isn't doing it for that reason. She's doing it because what other choice does she have?

Honestly I'm not sure where he even gets the idea that she's oh-so-dutiful, because as far as I can tell, she's really just doing the bare minimum she can get away with doing as his political-prisoner-child-bride.

Sansa does not, for a single second, give a flying fuck about her duty to Tyrion and I love her for it.

And yet, Tyrion's my-dutiful-wife false belief is what allows her to get away with planning her escape. Tyrion fails to be suspicious of her even when he absolutely should be re: that first quote.

So-

Tyrion likes to think Sansa is dutiful (for some reason).

Sansa is not dutiful.

Sansa doesn't seem to be aware that Tyrion thinks she is, but it works to her advantage nevertheless.

Littlefinger

Now in Littlefinger's case she really is playing the dutiful daughter.

This time, fulfilling her 'duty' as his daughter is in her best interest, because it acts as an excuse to avoid what he really wants from her. It's basically the reverse of the Tyrion Situation.

So-

Littlefinger thinks Sansa is dutiful because she is.

She's acting dutiful on purpose (to diffuse his sexual attraction (ew) towards her).

Clearly, it's working to her advantage.

Now, onto the extra stuff-

We have this-

Dontos chuckled. "My Jonquil's a clever girl, isn't she?"

"Joffrey and his mother say I'm stupid."

"Let them. You're safer that way, sweetling.

xxx

"The g-g-godswood, my lord," she said, not daring to lie. "Praying . . . praying for my father, and . . . for the king, praying that he'd not be hurt."

"Think I'm so drunk that I'd believe that?" He let go his grip on her arm, swaying slightly as he stood, stripes of light and darkness falling across his terrible burnt face. "You look almost a woman . . . face, teats, and you're taller too, almost . . . ah, you're still a stupid little bird, aren't you?

xxx

"There's to be so much, my lord. I have a little tummy." She fiddled nervously with her hair and looked down the table to where Joffrey sat with his Tyrell queen.

Does she wish it were her in Margaery's place? Tyrion frowned. Even a child should have better sense.

Sansa goes under the radar so well in KL because people think she's too stupid to do anything. Again, we see Tyrion, an overall smart guy, fail to be suspicious of Sansa's very suspicious behavior nevermind that she IS a child you asshole because he thinks she's stupid.

So-

People think Sansa is stupid

She's not stupid. We also don't see Sansa actively encouraging that perception, which makes sense because-

she doesn't need to. They do that all by themselves and

she's too busy believing she really is stupid, poor kid

3. It works to her advantage anyway.

Which leads me to-

xxx

"Your Grace has forgotten the Lady Sansa," said Pycelle.

The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf."

xxx

So-

People thinking Sansa murdered Joffrey with her witchy wolf ways.

She didn't.

???

I am SO looking forward to see where this goes.

More extra stuff-

This entire post grew out of me obsessing over this post.

It got me thinking that out of the six core characters, Sansa is the most observed one. We see her in real time through the chapters of other POV characters the most. I counted. My count can be up or down by about one or two chapters, but I have Sansa pegged at around 15 chapters, followed by Tyrion at 11, then A*ya (around 9), then Jon (around 8), then Bran (4), and then D*ny (0). This is exacerbated by the fact that Sansa has some of the least number of POV chapters of the 'core six'. This means that-

We see Sansa more (or at more than others) from other POVs than her own. In other words, we get to be in Sansa's head less and in other characters' head thinking about her more (unlike most other main characters).

This plays a BIG ROLE in her POV trap, which is pretty much the opposite of D*ny's POV trap in terms of both what it is hiding and how

Perception and reality play a very obvious and direct part in Sansa's story, both her own perceptions and others' perceptions of her.

The Vale arc changes everything though. Now suddenly-

She's surrounded by an entirely new cast of people

She's the only POV character in the location

She has an entirely new identity with none of the same pre-conceived biases attached (though there sure are other pre-conceived biases that go with her identity)

This has happened with other characters as well (Tyrion in ADWD, Arya in every other book), but the impact it has on our perception of her is unique. It's basically reversing everything her POV trap was previously built on.

Now, she is her own worst critic. Now, the thoughts that other POV characters have of her (Tyrion, Cersei) are increasingly muddled. Is she a murderous sorcerer, or a stupid little girl? Was she dutiful, or a scheming traitor? The correct answer is-

she was none of those things. Everyone is just....trapped by their own PoV?

#sansa stark #meta #anti sanrion #anti littlefinger

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lady-literature · 4 years

Text

ayy, so ya’ll know that Miraculous/DC crossover I screamed about a while back? I found plot for it.

It is not quite finished yet, but it’s also so much longer than I originally planned on it being. (me: I’ll just write a fun little thing to get this out of my head!

me, 13k words later: oh no)

SO! Here’s a little sneak peak!

(or, find the finished product here!)

***

There is an unspoken rule, kept by any outsider who’s ever set foot in Gotham, that you should only ever visit the city once. Most find that visiting even once was already too much.

The most dangerous city on earth isn’t kind to its residents—much less strangers who don’t know how to watch their pockets or keep off the streets after dark. It’s gotten better, perhaps, in recent years since the Bat started lurking on rooftops, but that doesn’t mean the city is good.

Normal people stay as far from Gotham as they can get.

Marinette, (un)luckily, is far from normal.

***

The touring of Metropolis, New York City, and Gotham had been going well as far as Marinette was concerned, no matter what Chloé says to her about carelessness and naivety.

She’s glad her, Adrien and Chloé all decided to take this summer trip before they started University in the fall. It sucks that it was just the three of them, she wishes more of their friends could’ve tagged along but, alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Kagami was in the middle of training season and couldn’t come. Luka was touring with his father, learning the tricks of the trade and other things. Nathaniel had already been commissioned to paint a mural downtown before they really finalized dates. Nino was in much the same boat as Nath, just with music and pitch meetings. Felix hated traveling and Alix was doing… something. Time travelling, probably. Or at least spending more time in the burrow.

Marinette was certainly starting to notice the way she’s begun talking about ancient history like she was actually there when she goes on rants now. Felix also probably noticed but Marinette’s also sure that he’s aiding and abetting her in exchange for insider information so…

She’ll probably have to deal with that later, unfortunately. But not today.

Their tour group was going to Amusement Mile later that afternoon, but had been given free roam until then. Marinette decided to spend the time up until lunch at the park near the meetup spot in Gotham Square and Chloé hadn’t complained or vetoed that idea so the trio happily camped out on the grass.

Marinette had returned to her sketch of Lady Gotham in between eating bites of her sandwich. She thinks she much preferred the style of it to New York City’s Lady Liberty. There was just something about the Statue of Justice that inspired her.

She’d been doodling about it since they left the marina yesterday. She also had plenty of pictures of the statue for inspiration later. There’s one she especially likes and thinks she might even print out to put up on her wall at home.

She’s playing with the idea of draping fabrics for formal wear designs like the roman togas both Lady statues seem to wear when a tennis ball rolls up and bumps into her leg. She has only enough time to move her sketchbook out of the way before a large dog bowls into her, tail wagging happily and barking up a storm.

“Oof!”

Adrien’s already halfway up the tree, startled out of his light doze by the barking and Chloé only daintily moved away from Marinette, leaving her to her fate.

Pushing herself back up so she’s not crushed by what feels like one hundred pounds of dog, she comes face to snout with quite possibly the biggest dog she’s ever seen. From there, there was really only one choice of action Marinette could have followed.

“Oh! Well, aren’t you just the prettiest boy?” she tells the dog happily, reaching up to give him scratches. “Such a big boy! You nearly bowled me over, didn’t you?”

If it’s possible, the dog’s tail begins to wag even faster, enough that he accidentally overbalances himself and decides to roll with it, flopping onto his back and letting her rub his stomach. Marinette does so enthusiastically, her baby-talk to the dog devolving into broken not-words and the occasional exclamation of good boy! in both English and French.

The dog was a great dane, and had the softest coat of black fur she’s ever seen. There was a thick red collar around his throat, and Marinette stopped furiously rubbing his belly long enough to look at the silver tag attached to it.

“Titus, huh?” she says to the dog. “Such a strong name for such a distinguished boy, huh?”

“Oh god,” she hears Adrien groan from his spot still up in the tree. When she looks up, she finds him eyeing Titus with distrust, the absolute kitten. “I hope whoever his owner is, they’ve never read Shakespeare.”

Both her and Chloé blink at the strange non sequitur.

“Uh, why? Exactly?”

“Because they have shit taste in his plays if they do! Titus Andronicus is, like, Shakespeare’s worst play.”

Chloé glares up at him. “You’re such a nerd. Now stop being ridiculous and get down from there.”

“But, Chloé! It’s a dog.”

“Adrien Agreste!”

Marinette tunes out the two blondes as they devolve into sibling-like bickering. It’s a skill she’s had to learn and learn quickly with living in such close quarters with the pair for the last few weeks and also being friends with the pair for the past three years.

“Speaking of your owner, I wonder where they are?” She scratches under Titus’ chin thoughtfully. “Should we go look for them?”

Titus' head flops to the side, almost like he’s listening for something, before he’s clambering up onto his feet to tower over her. He’s almost twice as tall as she is sitting, which is just ridiculous. Why is everything in America so big?

Getting to her feet herself, Titus still stands almost as tall as her. She can rest her elbow on his back when she grabs his collar to make sure he doesn’t run off. He leads mostly, pulling her along at a steady trot she has to jog to keep up with.

He truly was such a well behaved dog and certainly lived up to his breed’s reputation as a gentle giant.

Or at least she thought so, until the call of “Titus! Here!” echoes through the park and he goes racing off towards it, dragging Marinette along for the ride no matter how much she tries to slow down.

Titus comes to a skidding stop, and Marinette barely stops herself from falling by keeping her arm around Titus.

“And who are you?”

Looking up, she finds a young man, probably around her age, staring down at her. He does not look happy—but most Gothamites don’t, Marinette’s found. He’s also, despite the almost glare he’s giving her, very attractive.

When she opens her mouth, incoherent French comes tumbling out, much to her embarrassment.

Ah. ‘Not being able to speak coherently to people she finds attractive’, she had wondered where that particular personality trait had been as of late. Even after so many years hanging around people who should be—and are—super models, she still acts like a spaz. Why is she like this?

The man raises an eyebrow at her, looking very unamused.

She tries again. “Ah- Je suis- I mean, I am very sorry. Your dog found me sitting over there with my friends and I figured I should find his owner instead of letting him just wander around and I assume your his owner because if you aren’t this is very embarrassing for me. Not that it wasn’t embarrassing before but, oh, I’m definitely rambling and I’m going to shut up now.”

Pressing her lips together as tightly as humanly possible so her tongue will stop making horrible life decisions, she holds Titus’ bright yellow tennis ball out to his owner.

The man huffs, taking the ball from her hand. “I didn’t ask for your life’s story.”

Marinette blinks and then frowns. Her hand tightens around where she’s still holding onto Titus’ collar and she has to very carefully unclench her hand before she breaks it or something.

“I didn’t give it,” she says through clenched teeth, embarrassment abruptly forgotten. There’s no need for the man to be rude.

He scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”

She doesn't really have anything to say to that. Instead, she turns to Titus, who’s sitting like the good boy he is. She very seriously leans down to eye level—she does not have to lean down far—and tells him, “Your owner is an ass. But you are still a very good boy.”

She plants a kiss to his forehead that makes his tail wag, gives him one last scratch behind the ears and walks back towards her friends without looking back at the rude man.

***

Colonel Bug: so I met kagami and felix’s lovechild today

MY HONOR: I would never stoop so low.

the evil twin: I would never stoop so low.

ShutUpTurtleMan: Nettie

dearest

the evil twin: Okay first of all-

ShutUpTurtleMan: sunshine

light of our collective lives and reason I breathe

what the fuCK

YoureUnderAgreste: Kagami, my love, how could you?

The Betrayal™

GottaGoFast: ew

Queen of Salt: ew

sneaky snake: Send pics or it didn’t happen

give me art or give me death: [a photo of the ‘right in front of my salad?’ meme]

Queen of Salt: wait

I was with you all day when did this happen?

was it the owner of the dog that attacked you?

ShutUpTurtleMan: WHAT

Colonel Bug: he didn’t attack me!

chloe stop spreading misinformation!

titus was a sweetheart!

YoureUnderAgreste: incorrect

he was, in fact, a menace

give me art or give me death: wait was Titus the dog or the lovechild

ShutUpTurtleMan: ^^^ ?

Colonel Bug: shut up adrien

all animals are great

stop being elitist

give me art or give me death: okay but seriously what kind of dog was it

the evil twin: why exactly was he our lovechild?

GottaGoFast: because of the dramatic tryst you and Kagami had obviously

keep up

Colonel Bug: because he was as pretty as he was rude actually

And gave me the feeling that he’d rant about his honor and parentage if it given the chance

MY HONOR: you say something once as an unsocialized teen

GottaGoFast: MARI YOU DOG!

ARE GETTING TAIL IN GOTHAM OF ALL PLACES?

Colonel Bug: no alix

did you not read the part about how rude he is

YoureUnderAgreste: i mean,,,,,

Felix is pretty rude and we all still like him

ShutUpTurtleMan: and Chloe

YoureUnderAgreste: oh good point nino

Colonel Bug: i hate it here

i spoke to him for like 2 seconds

Queen of Salt: Okay first of all-

YoureUnderAgreste: so i mean it’s not really a dealbreaker yaknow?

Colonel Bug: this familys a nightmare

i shoulda left you all on the street corner where i found you

YoureUnderAgreste: BUT CHA DINDT

ShutUpTurtleMan: but yA DIDNT

GottaGoFast: BUT CHA DIDNT!!

sneaky snake: but ya didn’t

***

I have every no regrets. stay tuned for more!

#my typewriter #miraculous ladybug #batfam #maribat #daminette #mlb #dc #mlb x dc

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alj4890 · 3 years

Text

Angst Prompt

(Liam x Riley) with the prompt of Riley getting shot in another country while Liam was in Cordonia and it have been ordered by King Bradshaw as requested by Anonymous.

A/N Oof. What a way to knock me off my fluff kick, LOL. This isn't a part of my AU's but let's see what I can do for your prompt, Nonny. This takes place after the Bradshaw/Isabella mess but before Barthlemy's challenge. I guess I will ruin that brief moment of peace, LOL.

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @hopefulmoonobject @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

News

The Royal Palace, Cordonia...

"Here we go, princess." Liam settled his seven month old in her swing. "How about you help your father with reading through these proposals the Council is considering?"

Eleanor smiled around the teething ring she had put in her mouth.

Liam pressed a quick kiss to her cheek then started the swing.

He settled behind his desk, finally feeling a sense of calmness. With all the ups and downs he had gone through since his brother's abdication, he rested in knowing that he, his family, and country were at last entering into a season of peace.

He intended to keep it that way.

The gurgles and coos from Eleanor drew his attention. She waved the teething ring a few times before putting it back in her mouth.

He chuckled at her antics.

He was enjoying these few days of one-on-one time with his daughter. Riley had been asked to be the guest of honor at Lancelin St Clair's fashion grand opening. The renowned designer had created a place where his creations could be not only sold, but created specifically for the customer.

Lancelin had completely renovated a four-story building in Paris's Faubourg Saint-Honoré district, turning each floor into one with a definite purpose. The first floor was a shop that housed various sizes of his most popular creations. The second floor was part runway/part design on demand for the shopper looking for something completely original. The third floor would debut his new bridal line. And the fourth was set as his personal work area/apartment for when he needed to stay late and work on his designs.

All this was to be shown to the public to set off Paris's fashion week.

Since Riley had walked his runway during Liam and Madeleine's engagement tour, he had invited her to be part of his grand opening. Ana De Luca was traveling with Cordonia's queen to do an exclusive spread of Riley in some of the dresses Lancelin had made specifically with her in mind.

It was just the sort of news the people of Cordonia would enjoy after months of uncertainty.

****************

"I really don't want to go without you and Eleanor." Riley told Liam the night before she left.

"I don't want you to either." He held her close. "But I have to meet with the Farmers' Association about the progress of the apple orchards." He pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "I've already had to reschedule twice with them. They need to see I take their concerns seriously."

"I know." She sighed. "And I know that Eleanor would distract everyone from Lancelin's moment." She eased out of his embrace. "This will be the first time I go out without you or any of our friends."

Liam took her hands and tried to ease her worries. "You will do great." He smiled at her. "You charm everyone you meet. I believe I am proof to your effect."

Riley shook her head before kissing him. "If anyone is the charmer, it's you."

He chuckled while tugging her toward their bed. "Do you want me to find someone to go with you? Penelope or Kiara perhaps?"

"No thanks." She snuggled closer to him. "I wish Hana was well enough to go. She was looking forward to it."

Liam gently rubbed her back. "With Maxwell in Hollywood and Drake in Texas, we don't have anyone left."

"I wish Olivia was back." She muttered.

"Amalas needed her expertise." Liam reminded her.

"I know." Riley sighed again. "If I can't have you with me, I do tend to depend on the others to be there. I need to learn how to stand on my own."

"The world will once again be amazed by Cordonia's queen." He kissed the top of her head. "You'll see."

********************

Liam glanced at his desk clock. It was nearly time for Ana's live report of Lancelin's grand opening.

His princess had fallen asleep in her swing, drawing another smile from him as he carefully lifted her out. Cuddling her close, he sat down on one of the sofas and turned the television on.

Finding the right channel, he relaxed as the first images appeared.

Cordonia's Queen Riley has been given the honor of walking the red carpet first. Lancelin St Clair awaits, giving her the shears to cut the ceremonial ribbon.

He readjusted Eleanor in his arms as he watched his wife's bright smile flash towards the cheering crowd.

Ana continued to detail what they would soon see when shots rang out.

Liam stood up, causing Eleanor to whimper at being rudely awakened.

Ignoring her fitful cries, he watched as the camera caught his wife and Lancelin falling to the ground.

Then the feed went dead.

"BASTIEN!" Liam shouted over Eleanor's wails.

The head of the King's Guards hurried inside while talking on his phone. Regina rushed in behind him.

"Give me the baby." She insisted, gently taking the fussy little one in her arms. She left the study, allowing Liam to be able to focus on what Bastien was saying.

"And the shooter?" He asked. "I see. Where is her majesty being taken?"

Bastien wrote down the information. "Keep me updated."

Once he ended the call, he faced Liam.

"What happened?" He demanded.

Bastien cleared his throat. "A lone gunman shot both Riley and Mr. St Clair."

"Is she alright? Have the plane prepared. We must get there as quickly as we can!"

"Sir," Bastien hesitated. "I must insist you remain here. The gunman was killed by one of our guards. We don't know if there is another and--"

Liam shoved past him and called the airfield. Declaring it an emergency, he then rushed to tell Regina.

"Liam." She teared up as she took his hand. "Be careful and call as soon as you know more."

"Your majesty, I insist you remain here while I go to Paris." Bastien followed after him. "Once my team has investigated, I can then guarantee your safety--"

"Do you honestly think I give a damn about my safety?!" Liam rounded on him. "My wife was just shot! She is alone in another country and hurt. If you think I will sit here behind these so called protective walls, then you do not know me at all." He went back to his study and quickly packed his briefcase. "Now get me to the airport."

*****************

Early evening, Paris...

"Her majesty is at one of the private hospitals." Bastien explained as the car continued through the city. "Interpol is working with us to identify the shooter."

Liam stared blindly out the window. "Is my wife conscious?"

"She was." Bastien tried to explain. "She lost some blood from her wound and--"

Their car stopped at the front entrance.

"Liam!" Bastien shouted as the king didn't bother to wait on guards or to check that it was safe.

The young king ran inside, pausing long enough to ask where he should go.

"Je suis le roi de Cordonia. Ma femme a été amenée avec une blessure par balle. Où est-elle? Est-ce qu'elle va bien?" He said quickly.

"Elle se repose dans la chambre 138, Votre Majesté. Dr Miller a dit--" the receptionist blinked when he took off running once more.

Liam slid on the freshly waxed tile floors, barely catching himself as he followed the signs.

A doctor and nurse were just leaving Riley's room when he arrived.

"My wife," Liam gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Is she alright?"

"Oui. She was struck in the shoulder." He paused as both King's Guards and Interpol Agents joined them. "We removed the bullet while she was unconscious."

Liam reached for the door handle as the others began to question the physician.

He paused at seeing his wife laying there, looking so fragile.

One of the first things he had first noticed about her was her inner strength to face any obstacle she encountered. He realized he had taken that he had taken that for granted. The only other time he had seen her like this was when she collapsed during Eleanor's birth.

Liam knew there were only a few things he feared in this world. But those few things centered on something specific: his family.

He could face an entire firing squad and not bat an eye. But let it be Riley or Eleanor that was to be threatened, and he could not take it.

He collapsed in the chair by her bed and pressed a kiss to her fingers. Bowing his head, he waited by her side until she awakened.

****************

A few hours later...

Liam stood up when Riley became restless. Soft cries escaped her lips as she slept. He reached for the buzzer.

Explaining that his wife was in pain, he waited for a nurse to come in.

Bastien entered first.

"Have you learned anything about the shooter?" Liam asked in a low voice.

"We have." Bastien stopped the nurse.

He and an Interpol agent patted him down and checked the IV bag of morphine he held.

They stepped back and allowed him to tend to Riley.

Liam watched him replace the bag that had been on a slow drip.

"Can she have more?" He asked as she cried out again.

"Yes sir." He showed Liam the button he could push if she needed more, reassuring him that it wouldn't administer any past the dosage she could have. He increased the flow and left.

Riley's eyes barely opened. "Liam?"

He went back to her bedside. "I'm here, my love."

"My shoulder." She sucked in a painful breath. "What happened?"

"A man was in the crowd." Liam gently explained, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "He shot at you and Lancelin and--"

Her eyes widened. "Lancelin! Liam, he was bleeding so much!"

Bastien cleared his throat as he stepped forward. "He is in intensive care at another hospital, mam."

He pointed at the right side of his chest and mouthed lung to Liam.

Liam frowned some before turning back to Riley.

"Where's Eleanor?" Riley asked, turning her head. "Did you bring her?"

"No. Regina is watching over her at home." Liam eased down on the bed. "Do you need anything? Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"No." Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him. "Liam, if...if I had died...you...my baby..." She began to cry.

Unable to take her in his arms, Liam did his best to comfort her. He wiped her tears while speaking in a calming tone that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. That she was safe. That they would soon be home with Eleanor.

Riley tried to calm down but she shook her head. "We'll never be truly safe, will we?"

Liam paused in his assurances. He felt exhausted from the trials they continued to face. Should he now fear peace, knowing it would end horribly in some new threat?

Running a hand through his hair he spoke of what he did know. "No one is ever truly safe, my love. Even if we were locked away somewhere, accidents can happen. Sickness can strike. Bad things happen just as good ones do."

She sniffed and closed her eyes. "I know you're right," she opened her eyes and met his steady gaze. "I just wish we didn't keep having trouble."

"I do too." He cupped her cheek and softly kissed her. "All I need to know to make it through our trials is that you and Eleanor are taken care of." He struggled with swallowing. "I should have been there today to protect you."

She weakly raised her hand and caressed his cheek. "Then you might have been hurt or..." She couldn't finish that sentence. "I can't lose you, Liam."

He nodded, kissing her again. "I refuse to lose you." His words came out in a harsh whisper. "I will find who did this and will make certain they never do so again."

Riley rubbed her cheek against his hand and closed her eyes.

Liam relaxed once he saw her drift into a peaceful slumber.

"Sir?" Bastien motioned for him to step outside.

"What did you find?" Liam asked.

"The man was a hired gun from America." Bastien began. "But he was born in Auvernal."

Liam's eyes narrowed. "And who hired him?"

"King Bradshaw."

********************

Cordonia, a week later...

Riley was rocking back and forth with Eleanor sleeping in the crook of her good arm. She heard voices outside the nursery door. Curious, but unable to hold her daughter properly, she remained where she was.

A few moments later, Liam slipped quietly inside and smiled at her.

"Is she down for the night?"

"She fell asleep long ago, but I wasn’t ready to let her go." Riley let him put Eleanor in her crib. "I missed her so much. I'm so thankful to be home with you both."

"Nowhere near as much as I am." Liam wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I heard voices earlier. Is everything alright?"

He nodded. "Everything is fine."

Riley chewed on her bottom lip. "You never told me what was found about the gunman."

"There wasn't much to discover." He told her.

"Was he just some crazy person or was he hired by someone?" Riley prodded.

Liam let her go and motioned for them to leave the nursery when Eleanor made a disgruntled, sleepy noise.

"I don't want you thinking anymore about this." Liam insisted. "We are taking care of eliminating the threat."

"Eliminating?" Riley's brow furrowed. "But that means he was hired--"

"I want you to rest."

His nearly cold evasiveness alarmed her.

"Liam," she reached for his hand. "Please talk to me. I can handle whatever you have found."

Remembering how upset she was in the hospital, he averted his eyes. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Her lips parted to insist. She shut them when he escorted her to their chambers.

"Do you need anything?" He asked after helping her change.

"No." She murmured.

He covered her up and began to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" She sat up in surprise.

"I have somethings that require my attention in the study." He explained. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

She quietly watched him leave, feeling even more uneasy than before.

*****************

A little after three in the morning...

Riley awoke when she felt the bed dip down.

"Liam?"

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you."

She checked the time. "Are you just now coming to bed?"

"Yes. It took longer than I planned." He stretched out beside her.

"What did?" She demanded, turning a lamp on.

She gasped when she noticed his bruised face and bloody knuckles.

"What happened? How did you--"

"It's nothing." He winced as he tried to get comfortable. "I'll be fine."

"Liam!" She snapped. "Talk to me." Her eyes narrowed. "Now."

"I took care of the one who tried to take you from me." He snapped back.

"So there was someone else involved?"

"Yes. And he will never have a chance to hurt anyone again." Liam declared.

Riley gently touched his face. "Liam, you didn't..."

"I wanted to." He admitted. "I was so close to beating Bradshaw to death." He closed his eyes at that memory.

It would have been so easy. A few more strikes, a quick twist and the king that had caused Liam’s world to nearly crumble would have had his last breath.

"I allowed Interpol to take him." He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "Olivia found all the evidence we needed to make certain the only way he will ever leave prison is to attend his own funeral."

Riley blinked back tears.

She then punched Liam in the arm.

"Riley!" He sat up when he noticed her shaking with rage. "What--"

"How could you?!" She screamed. "How could you risk your life when you already had everything in place to arrest him?!"

"He tried to kill you!" Liam yelled back. "All because we caused him embarrassment." His eyes narrowed. "Did you think I would do nothing to the man who set out to take my wife from me? Take my daughter's mother?!"

"He wasn't worth you taking a chance on him having a weapon or one of his guards kill you! What would Eleanor and I do without you here?" Tears fell, nearly blinding her. "How could you risk our family?"

All of Liam's anger disappeared at hearing that she had his own fear. Gently pulling her close he silently held her as she cried. His own tears mingled with hers as he thought of a life without her.

The sun was beginning to rise as their tears came to an end. They still held to one another, speaking in low tones of their life together. An occasional hitch in one's words caused the other to try and comfort the one temporarily unable to speak.

As light crept through the drapes, the two remained upright, still clinging to the one they loved.

Riley lifted her head off his shoulder. "Eleanor will be awake soon."

"Yes, she will." Liam pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead. "You should rest. I'll take care of her."

"I'll help you." She hugged him close with her good arm. "I don't want to be apart from either of you today."

His arms tightened around her. Unable to say all that filled his heart, he simply nodded while muttering that he didn't either.

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips and smiled. "It's a new day, my love. A new day just for us."

#choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #liam x riley #king liam #liam x mc #trr liam #trr riley #trh liam #choices stories you play

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destiniesfic · 4 years

Photo

Folktober 01 — for @jurdannet/@jurdannetrevels, and for spooky season: an AU where Jude and Taryn were never taken to Faerie and grew up in blissful ignorance of the fair folk. Mostly.

I count four of them. One, two, three, four. Four of them have taken my sister.

They took some others, too. It’s easy to tell them from the ones they’ve taken. Even as silhouettes, there’s something wrong with them. They move too gracefully, like they’re dancers who can hear music I can’t. And when they’re still, they’re too still. They’re all tall and lean and wear what looks like Renaissance Faire cosplay, and if I wasn’t looking right at them I wouldn’t think they were real. I still don’t think they’re real.

In addition to my sister, my twin, there seem to be three more people. Real people. A college-aged boy playing guitar, staring without seeing. A couple of hikers. The entire macabre party sits or stands or reclines around a massive bonfire, flames licking up a cage of tented branches. We learned about Guy Fawkes Night — Bonfire Night — in AP European History. If that’s what they’re celebrating, they’re too early by a month, and also on the wrong side of the Atlantic.

A shiver goes down my spine that has nothing to do with the autumn chill.

I recognize my sister’s silhouette. Taryn sits back on her heels, her hands on both knees, her back unusually straight. She doesn’t seem hurt. If she were herself, she’d scold me for following her here. After all, she was just sneaking out to meet some boy she bumped into at the mall today. I couldn’t explain my suspicions, the way the hair prickled at the back of my neck. Her smile was a little too dreamy. But I let her go. And I followed her.

Taryn stopped wearing the berry necklaces our parents gave us when we were thirteen or fourteen. Even though I am also too old to believe in superstitions, I never did. Now the string of dried rowan berries loops around my neck, hidden under my black turtleneck. I touch the fabric, feeling it through the cotton. Maybe it will save me tonight.

I draw a breath and step out from the bushes. In my hands, I am carrying the biggest stick I could find. It’s not as thick as a baseball bat — I should have brought a baseball bat — but if I have to hit someone, it’ll hurt. That’s what counts.

“Hey!” I shout.

The guitarist doesn’t stop playing. In fact, none of the humans look at me. But all of them do. The faeries. They are so beautiful they turn the corner into being terrifying. Like otherworldly models, specifically the ones from the nineties, with the cheekbones. Heroin chic, kind of, except they all have this glow that has nothing to do with the firelight. Their ears are pointed. Their fingers are too long. Their smiles are too sharp. My brain hurts.

At least they’re easy to tell apart. There are three boys and one girl. The boys all have different-colored hair: red, blond, black. The girl has long blue hair. She reclines on a cushion near the red-haired boy. One of the hikers combs her hair with a carved seashell, a glazed look on her face. The other hiker offers an apple to the blond boy, perfectly subservient. The last boy, his hair blacker than the dead of night, wears a silver circlet and lounges on two more cushions. He has a cup — a goblet — raised to his mouth. Dark liquid shines at the corners of his lips. I am afraid it’s blood, but I realize it’s probably wine.

I know very little about faeries, because faeries weren’t real until tonight. I take stock of what I do know: don’t accept food or drink from them; don’t trust them; they can’t lie; something about iron. That’s all. It’s not much. I hope it’s enough.

Standing there, brandishing my stick, it doesn’t feel like enough at all.

The black-haired boy squints at the contents of his goblet. “It’s too early for me to have drunk so much already,” he murmurs, almost to himself. Then he addresses the blonde boy. “Am I the only one seeing double?”

“No,” says the redhead, the one sitting next to Taryn. He looks fox-like in a way that I can’t quite explain. The color of his hair, maybe, or the point of his chin. “I see her, too. Kin?”

“Twins,” says the girl, sounding vaguely intrigued. “How very mortal.”

The blond boy knocks the apple out of the hiker’s hand. “Well? Go and get it,” he says to the hiker, but he is watching me. Apparently the people they’ve already caught are no longer as interesting as I am.

The first boy sighs, but then he grins at me, a cat who’s cornered a mouse. “Welcome, twin sister. Won’t you join us? Come and sup at our fire.”

There’s something under his words, like a hidden current in still waters that might pull me out to sea. But it just washes over me. I ground my stance and raise my stick higher. “Let Taryn go,” I say. “Before I decide to play softball with your heads.”

The boy frowns. Something tells me it’s not because of my threat. The girl looks slightly nervous. “Cardan?”

“Perhaps a charm,” the fox boy suggests, but he is now interested too.

“Mortals don’t know enough to wear charms,” snaps the blond boy. He stalks over to me, and I prepare to swing, even though I think it will just make him mad. “Perhaps if we strip her bare—”

“I will scream,” I threaten. The bark of my stick digs into my palms. I try to sound angry instead of scared. “I will scream and someone will hear and they will call the police.”

“Let them,” says the girl, tossing her shining hair. “More guests.”

The black-haired boy, Cardan, raises his hand. “Peace, Valerian,” he says to the blond boy, who scoffs and sits down cross-legged by the fire. “What kind of hosts are we? Surely we must extend to her some hospitality. What is your name, twin sister?”

Name. Something about faeries and names? Why does that strike a chord? I press my lips together and shake my head.

“This one knows something of our kind,” the fox boy remarks. “Enough to know there is power in names. Don’t be afraid.” His voice is gentle. I almost want to believe him. “Mortal names grant no power. We must call you something.”

I bite my lower lip. “Jude,” I say. It’s just one part of my name. Harmless, I hope. “And yours?”

“Locke,” he says. “My companions are Valerian, Nicasia, daughter of Orlagh, Queen of the Undersea, and Prince Cardan of Elfhame. Can we not convince you to join us? It is an honor for any mortal to dine in such esteemed company.”

“That’s fine.” My mouth is oddly dry. “I just want my sister back. Then I’ll leave you to… whatever this is. And I won’t tell anyone what I saw.”

“But we had such plans for Taryn.” Nicasia reaches up across Locke’s lap to wrap her finger around a lock of Taryn’s hair. “She’s such a soft thing. So fragile.”

My sister doesn’t move, and I shiver. Some kind of magic? Every single nerve in my body is screaming at me to run away before I’m spelled too. But I can’t leave Taryn. I refuse.

I shrug. “You’ll just have to cancel your plans, I guess. It happens.”

“Does it?” asks Cardan. His eyes, blacker than his hair, fix on me. He chuckles. “Perhaps we can make a deal, Jude the mortal. Answer one riddle for us and your sister goes free. How does that sound?”

“Good,” I say before thinking. My brain catches up a second later. “A little too good, actually. What happens if I get it wrong?”

“We keep the pair of you,” Valerian sneers. There are chuckles among the group, and I don’t like it. They seem to know something I don’t.

“The terms are more than fair,” Cardan prompts, smiling at me. “Do you accept?”

I want so badly to wipe that smile off his face, but I am outnumbered. I would lose a brawl. I would never get Taryn away. At least if I play this game with them I stall for time. “Do you swear she’ll go free?”

“I swear it.”

I give him a sharp nod and lower my stick. Faeries can’t lie. “Then I accept.”

He leans back against his cushions. “Tell me, then, what it is that never drinks but grows when fed?”

I wait for the rest.

“That’s all,” he says, with a flutter of his hand. “Well?”

For a moment, my mind goes completely blank and I’m sure I will fail. Then a breeze stirs my hair, and the bonfire crackles. My brow furrows. It seems too easy. “A fire?”

“Well done,” says Cardan. “Locke, send the sister home.”

Nicasia pouts, but Locke leans over and whispers something in my sister’s ear. Taryn stands and turns away from the fire, toward me. I am so relieved to see her whole, with the blush she’d put on before she went out still pinking her cheeks, that I don’t notice Valerian until he’s grabbed me from behind.

“What the fuck!” I yell, trying to kick his shin, to step on his foot. He is much stronger than I thought, and his grip doesn’t break. Taryn, seeming to notice nothing, walks into the trees and out of my sight. “You swore! You said—”

“I said we’d send your sister home,” says Cardan. “And home she goes. I said nothing about letting you go with her.” He raises his goblet to me in a mock-toast. “You must really be more careful when striking bargains.”

#jurdannet #jurdannetrevels #folktober 2020 #jurdan #judecardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #taryn duarte #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #tfota #mine: fic #fic: folktober

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salthaven · 4 years

Text

A Lady’s Scout (and the Salt within her Soul)

Marinette doesn’t know how the rumors started. Oh scratch that, of course she knows how the rumors started. Hell, she encouraged them herself!

She was pissed, and rightfully so. Her friends had all left her, betraying her, forgetting her, leaving her behind for Lila. A single incident turned into multiples, and Marinette ended that same week in the back once more, now a permanent resident of the back row. All it took was a few crocodile tears from Lila to Miss Bustier, complaining about sight problems. But of course, she just needed to be a little closer to the board. Like Marinette’s spot kind of close. But it’s fine, because Marinette can sit with Nathaniel, and aren’t they such good friends?

Marinette didn’t even try to complain, already knowing that she’d lose. And so she ended the week in the back, silently fuming as Alya didn’t even bat an eye at the change.

And it only continued. Days turned into weeks, and the weeks never ended. Suddenly Marinette was being forgotten, abandoned on an island, watching in vain as her classmates were left in awe of Lila’s latest ‘travels’. Sure, she had Nathaniel, but he was wrapped up in his comic most of the time.

So Marinette became wrapped up in her own little world of designs. Without her friends by her side, Marinette found herself with more free time than she’d had in months! (It looks like Lila can bring some good into her life!)

The first creation was a fox themed shirt, styled after Rena Rouge’s costume. Bold orange merged seamlessly with a creamy white, little embroidery creating a picture in the corner for searching eyes to find. A little fox, prancing among the flowers. A little fox, searching for something.

A little fox, searching for the Miraculous she’d never get again. Because why would she? Why would she, when she was no longer dependable? When she was no longer trustworthy, no longer loyal? When she’d forget Marinette for the next best thing?

So maybe Marinette was a little bitter, but who could blame her? And besides, why would she want to keep a fox that betrays her when she could have a friend who would silently stand by her side, or rather sit there, and come up with his own little illusions each and every day?

Fennec debuted three weeks after Marinette is exiled to the back, on a sunny day that does little to represent Alya’s mood.

Marinette presented the shirt on that following Monday.

“Th- thank you, Marinette,” Alya said, eyes widening as she gazed at the shirt. “But why is it fox themed?”

“Oh, you reminded me of Rena,” Marinette said with a wink, but there was no smile on her face. There wasn’t one on Alya’s, either, but only teary eyes.

Later, Marinette would look down at Alya and be met with skeptical, questioning eyes. But the eyes turned away quickly, downcast.

Marinette watched on from her spot in the back, eyes searching for flaws. She found them in her partners, and she created.

Next came a hoodie. A soft green, with a hexagonal pattern stitched in with darker thread. A hood, large enough for an old friend to hide his head in, even with a hat on.

He was protective, but not of Ladybug. Only Rena Rouge, only ever Rena Rouge. But Rena was gone, and so he would be, too.

Luka swapped teal for green, becoming Protecteur. Her protector. Because he’d never harmed her, he’d never betrayed her. He’d always been there, a silent support, and now he could be the same for Ladybug.

When Marinette gave Nino the hoodie, his eyes locked with hers, an unusual trait.

“Hey, what’s up with the Carapace theme, dudette?”

“He was just like you, wasn’t he?” She asked, and then she was gone, hidden in the back.

It’d be hard to miss how he tensed from so high up. Perhaps it was good, being forced to the back.

A bee themed skirt was made quickly. Light and simple, the white skirt had little yellow bees buzzing along the hem. Cute, yet impractical. Focusing more on looks than on functionality.

Yes, that was the way Marinette worked out her stress from Queen Bee, from the hero who never was, and never would be forevermore.

She presented it before she chose a replacement, and was met with weariness.

“You never give me gifts, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé pointed out bluntly, eyes challenging. “What’s with the skirt?”

“Oh, I just thought you’d like a little keepsake,” Marinette responded, already turning away.

Three days later, a new bee was chosen. Monarch rose up, a force to be reckoned with.

Kagami was all too happy to take up the mantle, to take out her stress on the poor Akuma victims. She was honored to be chosen, and Marinette was happy.

Her team was chosen, fixed to her liking. She was protected, she was safe, no longer relying on classmates who would only let her down.

And the rumors spread. From Alya and Nino, whispering to one another about what the gifts could mean. To an accidental comment near Lila, who used it as fuel to spread her fire. Because if Marinette knew...who’s to say she isn’t acting as some sort of scout?

“Ladybug and I had a falling out,” Lila explained with a flip of her hair. “I didn’t approve of the idea, so she and I had a spat.” She smiled at Alya, all sugar and sweetness. “I’d never replace someone like you...but Marinette would encourage it.”

Alya had glared at Marinette the rest of the week, and the whisperings picked up.

Chloé learned from Lila, and came marching up to Marinette immediately.

“Lila says you’re some kind of hero scout, huh?” Chloé said, shoving her face into Marinette’s. “What, are you some kind of goody two-shoes who talks to Ladybug, crying when someone upsets you?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Me? Why, I do nothing of the sort! I’d never complain to Ladybug like that.” She smiled, fully aware of the searching eyes. Aware of the awe stricken gaze Nathaniel sent her way, of the shock in Nino’s eyes and pure hatred in Alya’s. “I wouldn’t complain, but if she does come by for advice...who am I to lie?”

She saw how Lila glared, teeth grinding. She saw how her classmates reacted, some with excitement, others with worry. Unsure how to feel, unsure how to act.

Fennec, by then permanent much like her Bee and Turtle, questioned her during patrol, right in front of Chat Noir, Protecteur, and Monarch.

“Hey, Ladybug?” Fennec asked, eyes full of nerves.

“Yes, Fennec?”

“Is Marinette some sort of hero scout for you?”

With those words, Ladybug saw how her three teammates paused. Protecteur and Monarch seemed shocked by the words, Chat Noir just leaned in closer, waiting with baited breath for her answer.

“She is,” Ladybug replied easily, knowing the rumors would spread, knowing the rumors would lead to hatred and excitement and an alibi. (Because how could Ladybug’s scout be a hero, especially Ladybug herself? It just wouldn’t be possible!) “I tried giving her the Fox Miraculous back during Sapotis, but she suggested a friend of hers. They were good, so I asked her for a Turtle recommendation. Carapace worked well. She thought Queen Bee could redeem herself, so we gave Chloé a shot.”

“Why did you replace them?” Chat Noir asked. “If Marinette suggested them, why would you change your mind?”

“They stopped being reliable.” Ladybug shrugged, twirling her yoyo. “They left Marinette alone to be isolated. They let their friend be threatened by a liar, and when Marinette finally admitted it to me? I can’t have people who act like that.”

“Did she recommend us?” Protecteur asked, and Ladybug smiled.

“You three were the first people she could think of, and she had shining recommendations for all three.” She saw the way they reacted. Monarch smiled, Protecteur beamed, Fennec looked ready to have a stroke...and Chat Noir seemed pensive, eyes searching for something.

Marinette went to class the next day, and things had changed. For some reason, Max, Kim, and Alix were being extra nice to her. For some reason, Adrien spoke directly to her, despite having shied away the moment Alya got mad. For some reason, she felt like she was being watched. It was more than usual, more than when Lila first spread the rumor that Marinette was a hero scout.

But it didn’t click on why until Kagami spelled it out during lunch.

“They want to be heroes, too,” Kagami muttered, inching closing to the bluenette. Luka dropped into the spot beside her, and Nathaniel quickly sat across from them, setting his bag in the last remaining spot.

“So they think I can help with that?” Marinette questioned, an eyebrow raising.

“You are a hero scout,” Nathaniel pointed out, cheeks tinted red with embarrassment. “If you deem someone worthy, Ladybug will give them the Miraculous.”

Marinette glanced around, saw the way Kim eyed her, expression eager as he waved excitedly.

Of course. Her one time Roi Singe...and the Pegasus and Bunnix to follow. They knew she had a say, and so they were sucking up to her.

Marinette turned her gaze away, focusing on her true friends. “I only tell Ladybug about the real heroes,” she muttered, missing the way her three friends blushed.

That night, she was itching to create, and so she did. A monkey inspired sweatband, with a tiny, comical version of Xuppu stitched on the inside. It only took a few hours, and Marinette was happy with it.

Kim jogged up to her as she walked into the classroom, still beaming. “Hey, Marinette!” He said happily, as if he hadn’t ignored her, too. “Want to hangout soon? I have a track competition, you should come see it!”

“I can’t,” Marinette replied dismissively, “but here’s a good luck gift.” She pressed the sweatband into his palm, and watched him stumble as he realized what it meant.

“Oh...okay,” he said with a frown, deflated and hurt. He moped over to his seat, allowing Max to console him.

By lunchtime, Max seemed nervous, glancing at Marinette with panicked eyes. He seemed to be calculating, consulting Markov. Whatever he realized, it was enough to set him on edge.

Two days later, he was sure of his results. Marinette came up to him, and she smiled coldly.

“I made you these,” she said, and set a pair of sunglasses in his hands. “I thought you’d like them.” She turned, ignoring the way his eyes dropped, and then paused. “And don’t worry, they’ll protect your eyes from dangerous napkins.”

Later that day, Marinette would sit at home and laugh at her comment, then continue on to start one of her final gifts.

Her class was chaotic. Half of them followed her around like she was Lila, trying to do favors for her, trying to get into her good graces, trying to be someone special in her eyes. Many of them stayed far away, however, hiding from her sight, unsure if they should hate her or hate themselves, unsure what went wrong, unsure of what to do.

And then she had her actual friends. Nathaniel, Luka, Kagami…

And, according to the school, Ladybug.

Alix became pushier. The young girl practically bounced like a rabbit as she’d follow Marinette around, trying to prove herself. She thought she was in the clear, that the future was set in stone. She owned the watch, after all, so it was rightfully hers, right?

Marinette presented her with a hat, light blue with a little white pom pom on top, and Alix froze.

Later that day, Ladybug made a trip to Alix’s house, and she left a perfect replica of the watch behind. Perfect, of course, except for the lack of a certain bunny-themed Kwami.

Alix didn’t show up for school the next day, and Marinette didn’t bat an eye.

Just like that, her team was complete, and justice had been served.

But Marinette wasn’t done.

No, because there was one last thing to do. One little thing.

Marinette donned the Mouse, one last time. She split herself up, until a dozen little Multimice were running through the school. She snuck into each class, gathering information. Looking for future options.

And playing her final card in the game she’d been playing for months.

Her class was silent as Miss Bustier took attendance, eyes on their teacher as Multimouse slipped underneath the door.

“Marinette?” Miss Bustier asked, eyes curious, and Multimouse raised her hand, as if on autopilot.

“Here!” Her little voice squeaked out, and then she gasped, covering her mouth.

But it was too late, she’d been ‘found’. Miss Bustier stared, wide-eyed, crouching down to see her student on the floor.

“M- Marinette?” Miss Bustier asked, and Multimouse shook her head.

“No, no, of course not!” But it was too late, wasn’t it? Marinette was never a good liar, was she?

“You’re Multimouse?!” Alya shouted the question, hands slamming onto her desk. Lila, beside her, stared, but the stare quickly turned into a dangerous glare.

“I, uh,” Multimouse sighed, curling in on herself. “Fuck.” She turned to face Miss Bustier. “I...I guess I’ll explain, but just wait a second. I’d rather do this at full height.”

“Okay?” Miss Bustier nodded, still baffled. “What do you need?”

“Oh, just my other me’s. They should be here right about now.” As if on cue (oh they were definitely on cue), the other Multimice came darting under the door, making their way to Multimouse. They went up to her, quickly combining into one normal-sized Multimouse.

“Woah,” Nathaniel whispered, eyes shining with excitement. The rest of the class seemed to feel the same, any negative feelings forgotten (well, except for one certain girl) in the moment.

“Why were there so many?” Rose asked, eyes searching for any others that may have stayed small. “What were they- you- doing?”

Multimouse laughed. “Wasn’t it obvious? I’ve heard the rumors, guys, I know what you think.”

She watched how they paused, how their mouths dropped and their eyes widened.

“You were looking for new heroes?” Adrien asked, speaking up for once in his life, and Multimouse shrugged.

“Ladybug wanted new blood. Sent me out to search. She’s done it a few times, dropping the Miraculous off so I could get stuff done.” She looked to Miss Bustier with the sweetest, most innocent smile she could ever give, and said, “I hope you understand why I’m late so often. I couldn’t exactly tell you the truth, it’s supposed to be a secret after all.”

“Of course,” Miss Bustier said, and Multimouse smiled wider.

(So maybe it’s a partial lie, but Marinette was sick of getting detention for saving the goddamn city every day.)

“How long has this been going on?” Alya asked, hands shaking as she held onto her desk, as she struggled to not grab her phone.

Multimouse made a show of pausing, of tapping her finger to her chin before smiling. “I’ve been sneaking around since Carapace’s debut. After that, Ladybug wanted me to search more often. It helped her get a grasp of what goes on in the world. She can’t have eyes everywhere, but I can.” She giggled, then frowned. “It’s been tough, having to hide this for so long. I had to hide from Chat Noir, too, in the beginning, in case he got possessed. If he only focused on Ladybug, he couldn’t go after me during my secret missions. I nearly lost the ability to use the Miraculous when I revealed my identity to him...oh no.”

“What?” Adrien asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I suppose Ladybug won’t use me any longer.” Multimouse hugged herself, looking out the window. “She can’t, not anymore.”

“Why not?” Nathaniel asked, looking hurt.

“You all know my identity. I can’t be a hero, it isn’t safe. Especially when Ladybug’s stalker- shit.”

Like a conductor of an orchestra, Multimouse played them once more. She struggled to hold back her smirk as the class went berserk once more.

“She has a stalker?” Adrien asked, slamming his hands on the desk. “Who is it?”

Multimouse shrunk back. “It- it’s not my place to say. Ladybug said to be nice, that she can fight her own battles.”

“Is someone hurting her?” Nino asked, and Multimouse just took another step back. “Who?”

“I really shouldn’t-” but the class is wild now, and they want the truth. So Multimouse sighed and pulled on her jump rope, opening up a hidden phone. “Alright, I’ll call her.” She hit a few buttons, then nodded. “She’ll be here soon. I should go...Ladybug will want the Miraculous back.” One last sad look to her class, and then she leaped out of the window, sneaking up to the roof.

One quick change later, Ladybug hopped into the classroom, eyes narrowed.

This time, Alya pulled out the phone, finally unable to control her desire for footage. “Ladybug! Ma-”

“Multimouse,” Ladybug cut off quickly.

“Multimouse told us that you have a stalker?” Alya asked. “Who is it?”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you know? You put her on your blog every single week, after all.”

Alya froze, and so did Lila.

“I- I’m not-” Lila tried to start, but Ladybug was ready.

“Lila Rossi has been claiming many things since she got to Paris. I’ve heard claims of her being Volpina, a superhero. I’ve heard her claim that she was a better hero than me, and that she and I are best friends. She’s been Akumatized multiple times, and I’m not quite so sure whether or not it’s just to get close to me. She has tormented my scout, ostracizing her and claiming that I would support her, that I would listen to her. Lila Rossi has created an illusion in her mind that I owe her my friendship, and that my scout has done her wrong, and I would never trust someone like her.” She glared at the girl, at the camera. “There is one good thing Lila Rossi has done. She has been a wonderful test for my previous temporaries in order to see where their loyalties are. Other than that, she has been stalking me, creating up stories, and ruining lives.” She glared at Alya. “Now, if that’s all you want, I must go find my scout. She seemed rather upset, and I’d rather not fight my favorite civilian.”

Then she left the room, and she didn’t come back for the rest of the day. Instead she stayed home, claiming she felt sick, and let herself relax.

She created her final design.

When Marinette came into class the next day, she wore a beautiful pink dress, embroidered with little gray mice. The message was clear, and Nathaniel seemed disappointed. Adrien did, too, but Marinette wasn’t sure why.

She was greeted with apologies, with promises to be better. With questions, wondering how she’d managed to be Multimouse for so long without raising suspicion. With admiration, as their friends realized who the true friend of Ladybug was.

And Marinette just turned away, turned to her true chosen heroes.

Later that day, rumors of a heroine in a dragon’s red were heard, and if Ladybug was suspiciously absent…

Well, the other heroes enjoyed patrolling with their scout, and the world was right for one more day. ----- And with that, I have finally written this fic! Thank you to @liamnl for letting me use this idea, it was really fun! (To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to end it, so I figured Marinette could get her last revenge and call out Lila once and for all.) I hope you all enjoyed it! <3

#hero scout marinette #fox!nathaniel #turtle!luka #bee!kagami #mari is petty #mari just wants some karma #probably ooc but i was salty so...

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writtenonreceipts · 2 years

Note

Good afternoon!! I wanted to let you know that you are really inspiring so yesterday I planned a little story and today I started writing it!! It's not fandom related (not in a canon way anyway lol), but now that I have exams out of my way for a few months I really wanted to write again.

The fact that I outlined all the story is kinda shocking, I never planned my writings before. Do you usually do it for your multi-chapter fanfics? Or just go with the flow?

-Starry anon🌌

🌠💫🌟

Yay! Being done with finals is such a great feeling. And hurray for new projects!! That is so awesome! Starting a new story is so much fun and exciting! I love new stories and working to create them.

And you are so kind, I'm honored that you find me inspiring. It honestly feels like I'm only held together by chocolate and caffeine right now.

I wish I was a better outliner. Really. With most of my recent projects, I have started outlines to follow but as I write, the story takes a complete left turn and goes in a different direction. I tend to fly by the seat of my pants, as my writing certainly shows. 😅 I don’t know what it is, but I just seem to love ignoring laid out plans.

When I do outline I’ve started to follow advice given by “Save The Cat,” it's a book for screenplay and novel writing. Jessica Brody I believe helped develop and adapt the novel version. And Brandon Sanderson, he has taped lectures on YouTube. I love Sanderson’s novels in general, it helps he is an awesome human with a really great grasp of the writing process.

So what I try to do is come up with the main points I want to have happen. Like in one of my OG books...

The Queen of Kingdom A tries to capture a godlike creature/demon to end a war between her people and an invading country

The only solution is a (forced) marriage treaty between her and cruel king of Kingdom B

The is forced to go to the invading country B, leaving her kingdom behind.

The queen’s brother determines to save her. He makes an unwise compromise with a god.

How far with the brother go to to get the queen back to her kingdom?

So, I go through different things I want to happen that I know will shape the progress of the book/story and then I go in and add little details of either foreshadowing, character development and world building.

Something else I find really helpful, especially when working on larger projects is to dive into particular details specific to the world. For the book I talk about above, the demonlike creatures have cat-like bodies with wings that vary from resembling bats to eagles. As I pound out these details I move into what significance they play in the world--they attack humans without reason and are effecting the way of life between these two kingdoms. Something has to change. This leads to the mentioned war and then results in the forced marriage treaty.

I try and look for connections between the world to the magic to the characters/people and how they all play a part in shaping the other. I think developing these details and main ideas of focus first helps create a more cohesive plot as a whole. Then when working in how characters react to situations and how their own motivation plays into the progression of the story.

Anyway, this is just what I do and how I’ve started approaching my outlines/writing and worldbuilding.

For short stories, I think the same rule of thumb applies too. And these are some questions and things that I follow along with that too:

What’s the problem? What caused the problem? Who is involved with the problem and why should we root for them? How can we solve the problem? Are there false leads we can explore? How do the characters react to these situation?

#writing #writing advice #writtenisme #i write #thoughts #feel free to ignore #long post

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hiimsociallyawkward · 3 years

Text

the darkest hour pt 2

i'm back with my bs. this is for my bestie @lady-ofmagic-andstars. basically, all of my dumb thoughts while i watched 'darkest hour pt 2', 04.02 of merlin. in case you weren't aware.. ✨spoilers✨

right off the bat i'm sad

ok when i first watched this i was really confused. i mean, you see others when they interact with the dorocha have that perpetual frost on their face right? all of them, every single one. so imagine my surprise when merlin has no frost on his face, and he's miserable yea- but he's not dead??

like tbh, watching this again, ik why but when i first watched this, i was SO confused.

arthur looks so worried slkdjfalskfsd

him being willing to abandon the mission to get merlin back to camelot to be treated 😔🤪😎🤤🤩 lots of emotions

LANCELOT. of course it's lancelot. santiago is perfect. actually.

merlin looks so SICKLY. it physically pains me to see him like that

okok hahaa. the scene where percival is carrying merlin. i have several notes on that.

1) ik it's supposed to be all 'noble' looking. yk? them walking in slow mo, percival carrying merlin like he's been slained in battle. knights looking knightly

ALL I CAN FOCUS ON IS THE LACK OF PROPER NECK SUPPORT FOR MERLIN. PLS TELL ME I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE.

like pls

second note, idk why this remind me of hagrid carrying harry back

idk maybe that's just me but it feels oddly reminiscent

colin is SO pale my heart is actually hurting for him what the heck

asf;lsdjfa;lsdfj 'take me with you' stop.

dude they ACTUALLY care about each other. i just love them. arthur is so worried rn and while i'm like 'alsjfalsdj i don't want arthur to be sad and worried' we can see just how MUCH arthur cares about merlin.

like yea, we KNOW that they care about each other. but arthur is the prince and merlin's a servant so arthur can't have friends, but they're friends, and they care, and it makes me happy

ok it's sad and everything that merlin's basically dying but is it bad of me that i chuckle at merlin SLUMPED over on his horse?? probably.

but i mean, merlin is already raising himself up so he can sit more comfortably on the horse. ik that doesn't mean that he's in the clear yet, but he's doing a LOT better than the other people who ran into the dorocha. idk where i'm going with this

to quote the destiny and chicken podcast (who i love btw, if you want an awesome merlin podcast, check them out), they stay on arthur's face for SO long after merlin and lancelot leave.

i feel EVERYTHING that arthur is feeling in this moment. he's so pretty

there's another beautiful landscape. i'm not even sorry i'm gonna attach them ALL.

tell me that's not gorgeous

LMAO WHAT IS GWAINE DOING IN THAT TREE.

gwaine is the EMBODIMENT of 'boys will be boys' when he sticks his hand into that tree and gets swarmed by bees.

he's adorable and i love him

ok but also, someone tell me why capes are so hot. someone TELL me.

separate from the episode but on the note of capes being hot, i want a cloak SO BADLY. like the whole gist. floor length, big hooded cloak. why?? it's not like i'm sneaking anywhere but still. ✨cloak✨

ok the line where leon goes 'if anyone can get merlin back to camelot, it's lancelot' and arthur's face?? idk what to make of it. someone help me pls.

ok actually this probably isn't the best reaction shot but someone please help

the only thing i can think of is that arthur momentarily forgot and was reminded that merlin was in danger bc of him?

another thought is that he thinks he should take merlin back instead of lancelot?

ik for a fact you guys are better at analysising this stuff than i am so pls, thoughts?

i love lancelot so much. first time i watched this, i was CRUSHED

him carrying merlin to the lake(?) pond(?) area and then covering him with his cape? i love it

ok idk why but i love the idea of merlin instinctively going towards the water

it makes me think back to how he's made of magic and basically everywhere, espeically nature, has magic and instinctively- he wants to connect with nature as much as he can so his body just puts his hand in the water

a dumber thought i had, his hand is ✨sparkly✨in the water HAHAH

omg when the water called lancelot i deadass thought it was freya. i'm actually dumb i have WATCHED this before and i STILL thought it was freya

'a future that has been written since the dawn of time' makes me so proud but also so sad at the same time

it's like, yes, merlin is going to 'save the world' but it's like he's there just to do that. anyways, i just want him to be happy

MORE SPARKLY

these water spirts are op but also MORE SPARKLY. hehe i thin kthat's so funny

also, i'm literally only like 7 mins in. buckle yourself in

l;askdjflskdjf arthur going into the tunnels with the wilderons?? i miss merlin ouch. AND THE GAJA BERRIES. arthur misses merlin.

ok percival tackling gwaine?? cuties ;))

heheheeh gwaine kicking a skull and then running directly behind arthur for protection?? pls stop. i already love you

HAHA OK. THEM WEARING THE GAJA BERRIES ON THEIR FACE REMINDS ME OF THIS FACE MASK . THAT'S LITERALLY HOW I LOOK WITH THAT THIS FACE MASK ON HAHAA

yes im dumb, but the 5 of them slowly peeking over the rock and then ducking back down?? i love that so much they're so cute

omg what's wrong with me. not these knights literally FEARING their lives and me going 'they're so cute'

ANYWAYS

gwaine you absolute dumbass. smh merlin just took it but you just HAD to stab it. #cancelled

FRICK. YOU. AGRAVAINE.

YES. i have a love hate relationship with gaius, but BUST into the council room. king energy right there

smh gaius you pUSH over.

I LOVE GWEN RIGHT HERE

YES

FIGHT FOR WHAT IS RIGHT

DON'T LET ALL THOSE SMELLY OLD COUNCILMEN PUSH YOU AROUND

THIS IS ACTUALLY QUEEN SH!T RIGHT HERE EVERYONE ELSE CAN LEAVE

stfu agravaine 'gueniviere'. ST F UP

ok gwen. pop OFF

you KNOW that arthur would've fought agravaine on this. GO GWEN for speaking her mind

oh look at me with anotehr fic rec. sort of, not really. ok but this scene with gwen talking about all the villagers remind of this fic called To Love, Honor, and Piss Off by @thenerdyindividual .

ok so it's basically a fic where basically merlin and arthur have this 'arranged marriage' type thing for 3 years, and merlin is arthur's 'common consort'. what that means is that arthur marries merlin as a show of good faith and to learn more about what it means to be a commoner- merlin giving arthur the tea about commoner life

anywAYS. check that our if you want, but i loved it

stfu 'i feel the pain as much as you' agravaine. hop off my dick

YES. GWEN. PLANT THAT SEED OF DOUBT THAT AGRAVAINE MIGHT NOT BE ALL THAT HE SEEMS. i love gwen :,)

wow when she's intellegent with her speaking so everyone HAS to side with her but also respectful so NO ONE can get mad at her?? i stan. i ACTUALLY stan

santiago is so pretty

the PANIC in his voice. i stan.

HAHA AND MERLIN'S SNARKY 'SHH'

merlin is ready to GO. he's like, sorry for almost dying. that was ill advised of me.

i'm actually soft for any displays of friendship ever. what does that mean about me 💀 KIDDING. anyways..

i love the *swing* *duck* 'yea, not as quick as arthur

sa;kfs;akdfj lancelot insisting that merlin go back to camelot and merlin just nOt

LADS

stop rn. lancelot's face when merlin turns away. i am in pAin. I AM SO SAD OVER LANCELOT. PLS LANCELOT.

this isn't exactly, but morgana's paleness from here on out reminded me of merlin when he was literally DYING.

anyways, that's my note on that

like, yes- i get it- morgana is evil now. but idk should i feel bad for her? she looks so pale and ghasty and just :(

aksfhaskdjfas;ldf morgana

HAHA MORGANA IS SO EDGY IN THIS MOMENT. 'I'D RATHER DROWN IN MY OWN BLOOD THAN SEE THAT DAY' SO DRAMATIC. WHY IS SHE SO EMO/GOTH. LIKE IK I SHOULD BE SCARED FOR WHAT THAT MEANS BUT I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING

stfu don't kill gwen i'll KiLl you

agravaine literally needs to die

stop. i am literally SCREAMING when agravaine is asking gwen to meet him in his chambers. PLS. STOP. STOP STOP STOP. I NEED A WHISLTE. I BITE MY THUMB AT AGRAVAINE. HE NEEDS TO SACK THE HATEFUL MANSION. BETTER YET I'LL BURN HIS MANSION

again, someone tell me why capes are so hot. especially these red ones?? i'm in love with them.

ok see this guy?? he just died with the forst on his face. not merlin?? he started getting better. surly that should've tipped them off that merlin was different

merlin's little head quirk when he does magic. ALSFJASLDFJAS MERLIN. NO ONE SAID YOU WERE USELESS. AND IF THEY DID I WOULD BEAT. THEM. UP. GIVE ME ADDRESS RN.

wow. seriously. i'm gonna attach all the pretty landscape pictures

morgana's like 'i'll cut a b!tch'. ok ik morgana's evil and everything, but morgana flinging that guard against the wall is bad ass

oh this is weird but gwen telling agravaine to 'show courage' but the whole room tinted green? ik this isn't harry potter or anything but idk i thought that was interesting. i'm not abt to go into if i think agravaine is a slytherin or what but still

STOP. GET. YOUR. HANDS. AWAY. FROM. HER. I ACTULALY HATE HIM. SHE'S SO UNCOMFORTABLE. BACK THE FRICK UP AGARAVINE.

morgana :( smh you can't deny that morgana and gwen carried for each other and morgana flinging gwen away is making me sad. don't touch me

asldjfasldasd 'you're never alone' elyan i love you

lancelot and merlins being lads. omg no them talking about gwen

lancelot is SO noble. stop this reminds me of Die for you in secret by @emrysofmagic so much right now. not gonna lie. your fic LITERALLY lives in my head rent free and sometimes i think of it and my heart just HURTS in those last few chapeters. PHYSICALLy. i am in pain. anyways.

stop the trope where it's like "i love them, but i just want them to be happy. it doesn't matter if they're with me or not. i just want them to be happy"

I WAS LITERALLY SCREECHING AS MERLIN WAS CALLING KILGHARRAH i'm not even capping

ok so it's been like a month ish since i've watched merlin bc i was waiting for @//f-f-podcast 's destiny and chicken podcast, so i don't exactly what terms kilgharrah and merlin are at right now

still i think it's very sweet of merlin to bow slightly when kilgharrah looks at him

'the bravest and most noble of them all' 🥺

aw. merlin is really saying good bye right now

ok this scene is weird bc like i said, i don't rlly remember how merlin and kilgharrah are right now but it still makes me sad

asldjfslakdjfasd merlin and kilgharrah are old friends now. that makes me happy but sad at the same time

ok the 'it will be an empty world without you, young warlock' kills me.

obviously, we know that even though they butt heads, kilgharrah and merlin both care about each other

not only is kilgharrah being forced to let merlin go right now, but he's making peace with the fact that he'll be alone

the last dragonlord is planning to die. and kilgharrah is going to be alone again, like he was in that cave.

another thing is that if merlin died rn then we would never have aithusia. i'm kinda going on a tangent now but idk this scene is sad

this forest is so pretty

literally just lancelot's face and lancelot in this whole episode.

that's my note

HAHA GWAINE BURNING IS SOCKS

LADS BEING LADS

I LOVE THEM

omg i always see posts about this.

like merlin and lancelot planned that lancelot was going to walk in first and trick them and THEN merlin walked in

that's so funny to me. they're SO dramatic HAHAH

merlin looks so happy

BRO

ARTHUR

JUST HUG

HIM

PLS

STO

JUST HUG HIM WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM

Tell me why they actually look MARRIED here. PLS

🥲🥲 SELF SACRIFICING IDIOTS I LOVE YOU BOTH YOURE BREAKING MY HEART

LADS I LOVE THEM

🤠🤠 arthur wanting Gwen to be happy is KILLING ME. He loves her so much

This is so pretty. Honestly like how

Who let merlin have this many pretty landscapes

HOENSTLY

Lajs;dlkfajd buds in a boat together.

This reminds me of going to amusement parks and there’s always that boat ride

They’re the cutest

Ok so they also have this picture. It’s actually 3 pictures spliced together because the episode pans down and it’s really badly spliced (sorry) but LOOk how pretty that is.

WTF

Omg not me literally copying merlin with his slow mo head flick at the wyverns to make them go away

;sldkfjasdlkjasd leon percival and elyan and my heart.

Ok i’m not even gonna try to lie. They all have my heart

Frick you cailleah

Omg i was like ‘gwaine you dumbass’ jK i love him. Pls don’t come for my neck

Asldjfasldjfka ‘i’m prepared to pay whatever price is necessary’

HAHA CAN YOU NOT. WHAT IS WITH THIS CREEPY ‘COME HITHER’ HAND MOTION MS CAILLEAH

Stopp rn. ‘It’s my density

STOP. I AM HOWLING. LANCELOT

WHY

COME BACK

NO NONO PLS. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME.

stop rn merlin is all alone.

PAN TO ARTHUR WHO IS LITERALLY SURROUNDED BY EVERYONE.

Stop they all look so sad. I’m so sad.

merlin looks like he’s cried

I’m not sure abt arthur with his ‘no man is worth your tears’ type business but still

I am ✨sad✨

I screamed at this picture. I am depressed

Anyways

Gwen’s face is killing me

I’m so sad i don’t even want to write commentaries

Arthur realizing that lancelot only died because he loved gwen

Gwen standing in front of the fire

Aslkdfjasldjfa im so sad

HER STANDING IN FRONT OF THE FIRE ALL ALONE.

I. AM. SO. SAD.

STFU THAT THRONE IS NOT “RIGHTFULLY” YOURS MORGANA

STOP PLS GET AWAY

WHAT IS WITH THIS WEIRD TENSION

PLS DO NOT STAND WITHIN KISSING DISTANCE

IK YOU’RE NOT TECHNICALLY BLOOD RELATED BUT STILL.

PLEASE.

STOP.

I HATE AGRAVAINE

✨we hate agravaine in this house✨

😭😭 not merlin having ANOTHER secret. I’m so sorry bby

Anyways! I’ll be back next week to rant more about the wicked day so I’ll see you then! thanks I love you bye

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tjwritesstories · 3 years

Text

The broken Ace (Tsukishima x reader)

Chapter two- froyos and broken fingers

A/n I am so sorry😩🤚this is so bad but I got caught up with my first quarter ending that it turned out poorly🏃 uhhh next chapter y/n and Tsukishima are reunited😻 anyways- ignore every mistake🙄🤚 I promise to start actually trying and not procrastinating 😩

Anyways chapter one can be founddddd here!

•••

Y/n put down her phone as her coach began talking about the team’s match against Niiyami the next day. She slowly put her stuff away as she listened to the same lecture her team had heard a million times.

"I want everyone on their game this weekend. It shouldn't be that hard but Niiyami's Ace is pretty fierce so be ready. See you all tomorrow. Rest up." Y/n picked up her gym bag and quickly changed in the locker rooms so she could meet up with the boys.

"Finally! You took forever." Tendou whined as she finally appeared after a good ten minutes of sending her last text.

"Okay Mr. I take twenty minutes to get dressed and another twenty to gel my hair up." Y/n taunted causing Tendou to jump on the smaller girl's back while Goshiki attempted to ask Y/n for tips as she struggled to stand up straight.

"Goshiki-Chan! Why don't you ask me!? I could help!" Tendou said dramatically as y/n threw him off her and lightly stepped on his fingers causing him to whine despite the minimum pain.

"Tendou-San... I think Goshiki wants advice from the number one Ace of the prefecture. Not her best friend." Semi teased as Y/n teased her fellow first year.

"Oh you wound me Semi semi." Semi scowled at the redhead but before he could do anything Tendou ran over to Y/n and wrapped an arm around her.

"Oi we'll see you later! Baki Baki and I are going reminiscing!" The two waved goodbye to the others and took off in a different direction.

"Ah it's been awhile since we've been here." Y/n said as they made their way into the old Froyo shop that they had met at.

It had been closed for a few months due to the owner , who was a friendly old man with the heart of an angel, having to go away on a family emergency.

"Ah I remember the first time we met here." Tendou sang as he walked up to the counter with a grin. "My brave knight in shining armor!" A familiar chuckle came from behind the counter causing the two (pretty) best friends to look up.

Y/n gave a soft smile to the elderly man who admitted a warm aura that made everyone feel at home. The man had been one of the first people to treat Tendou with kindness unlike the other adults who criticized younger Tendou for the things he couldn’t control.

"Mr. Hayashi. How are you?" Y/n bowed out of respect as Tendou made their orders at the customizing end of the shop.

"Great! Always a pleasuring seeing you Y/n. How's volleyball?" Y/n grinned at the older man who gave her a warm smile with soft eyes.

She twirled her fingers subconsciously as she shrugged.

"Good. We have a match tomorrow against Niiyami. Care to come?"

"It would be an honor. You better be keeping those grades up young lady." The last part was said with a stern but playful glare as Tendou came over. Y/n was always making sure her grades were passing.

Sometimes.

Y/n gave a chuckle as they each payed for their frozen yogurt.

"It should be Tendou over here you're worrying about." Tendou's eyes widened as he chuckled nervously.

"Nice seeing you again Hayashi-San! See you tomorrow!" And with that he dragged Y/n out of the shop as they laughed.

They made their way over to a bench and took a seat across from each other before beginning to eat their frozen desserts.

Everytime they came to the store they sat in the same exact place where they first met. It was sort of a tradition.

With a soft smile she fondly remembered the day they met.

“Y/n? Your order is ready." Y/n grabbed her cup of froyo before whispering a thank you and going to sit down outside on the benches since it was a nice breezy day.

It had been four months since she had moved and the only thoughts on her mind were the two boys she left behind. The pain in her heart was heavy as she took a bite of the sweet treat.

Her mother had assumed it would be good to get out and had given her money for a treat. Some sort of bribery Y/n suspected.

Although she was thankful for the savory treat, it didn’t change the fact that she would do anything to go back home.

Her wallowing was interrupted by a group of boys circling a redhead boy with a bowl cut.

‘Seriously? Do people not have respect?’ She thought to herself as she walked over to them to see what was going on, her curious nature taking the best of her.

“Well Well Well of it isn’t the little freak.” Y/n raised an eyebrow and made her way past the group and stood in front of the victim who held a strong composure with the slightly noticeable tremble.

“Six against one? That’s pathetic.” The boy who seemed to be in charge scowled at her as she, who was hardly phased by his glare, took a bite of her froyo. “Why don’t you go home and cry to mommy about your poor life?”

“Why you little bitch-” he went to say something but before he could she turned and handed her froyo to the redhead and as she turned around she used the momentum of her turn to wind up.

With a sickening crack, her first connected with the older boy’s face causing his nose to bleed and the group to run away.

“You okay there?” The boy stared at her with wide eyes causing her to grin and shake of her hand as he handed back her froyo.

“Are YOU okay?”

“Please... I was built for protecting people.”

In reality she wasn’t. That punch had broken two of her fingers but she didn’t mind at the time. She had gotten a new friend to spend it with. Although Tendou constantly reminded y/n that she infact did despite her denial.

“Y/n I wish I could hit you with a bat right now.” Y/n rolled her eyes as she took the cherry off of Tendou’s mountain of whip cream.

“Cry about it.”

“You little-”

•••

Fun fact of the day- Tendou and y/n often get mistaken for a couple and their response is always “that’s my mom....” and Vice versus

Taglist- Taglist- @denkiswhore @egrieme @honeyhoneyhonie @voldemortschode @meimei475 @sanguwuxyoonbummy @burgundybaby-ali @babykitsune @losertsukki @riyuzu @yoosungsimp @smhkatie @hyperfandumb @yourncityhoe @thoushaltnotdied @raineedayze @torriblack97 @angelix25 @yourlocalbabybird @somecravings @Cece-lives-here @apprizemily @darlingg77 @neighboorhood-cryptid666 @justpeachydeffmilk @mmuchii @wwhoopss @0grenntea0 @i-luvdrugs @lightmagiccat @loving-unicorns106 @tinybluewhale02 @our-tall-slytherin-queen

#tsukishima smut #haikyuu texts #haikyu! x you #tsukishima imagine #haikyuu tsukishima #tendou satori #shiratorizawa #tsukishima x you #y/n x character #haikyuu imagine #Tsukishima kei #Yamaguchi tadashi

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rwby-grimm-guardians · 3 years

Text

RWBY Grimm Guardians Arc 4: Re-Bonding In Mistral Ch 9

Welcome back to Re-Bonding In Mistral! Here, the duel is won and after all is said and done, decisions are made.

Ones that will make the Roses, Yang, and the Branwens….very happy.

As usual, please give constructive criticism and enjoy!

I APOLOGIZE FOR NOT DOING THE DUEL. I WAS BUSY WITH COLLEGE AND IT ROBBED ME OF A LOT OF INSPIRATION.

Disclaimer: Still own nothing. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (In the Vault of Haven….)

“VAMPIER!” Summer shouted as the two descended down the elevator shaft. The Bat Queen snarled in annoyance, “You going to stop being a pain in my ass or what!?” “Says the bitch who won’t stay dead!” The former STRQ leader snapped as the two landed on the elevator car. Vampier immediately tore into it, making a hole and barely escaping the taller woman’s grasp. Snarling, Summer hopped down the hole, landing in the Vault, before the two women froze at the sight before them.

Much to their surprise, Raven was victorious in her duel with the Fall Maiden, as Cinder was beginning to turn to stone.

“And that’s that.” The tribe leader said, her Maiden power relaxing back to her normal state. “Now do Sum and I a favor and do NOT come back.” She then looked over to Vampier, glaring at her, “Now then, you’re next.” “You...actually think...this is the end?” The Fall Maiden asked in pain as her leg began to turn to stone. As Summer and Raven looked at Cinder in confusion, the Bat Queen gave a smug grin that the former STRQ leader wanted to desperately tear off.

Cinder gave a sneer, before forming a scimitar in her left hand and, to Raven and Summer’s horror, proceeded to outright amputate her right leg from her upper thigh. The Fall Maiden then landed on her back, cauterizing the wound with a weak sinister chuckle, “Better….luck….next time, bitches.”, before passing out. Vampier, transforming into a giant bat, then grabbed her, before taking off and breaking through every floor in Haven to fly away and retreat.

Before either of Summer and Raven could think of a plan, Vernal made a pained groan. The tribe leader and former STRQ leader rushed over to the bandit, kneeling, only to notice that she had lost too much blood. “We can’t save her….can we?” The red clad woman asked.

Before Summer could respond, Vernal grabbed Raven’s hand, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Don’t….go back…” The bandit said weakly. “Don’t go back….to the tribe…!” She then looked at Summer, saying, “You’re...safer….with her…” “Protect each other…” Vernal said, tears now running down her cheeks, much to Raven and Summer’s shock. “Please….!”

Summer gave a shaky, but determined nod, “We will… I swear, we will…” Vernal gave a small smile, before looking at Raven. “Don’t...thank me...yet...” The bandit said. “This journey of yours….is not….over….” Then, Vernal’s hand went limp as her breathing ceased.

She was gone….and Raven could only look at her with guilt as she wiped the tears from Vernal’s face.

The former STRQ leader gave a sad sigh as she closed Vernal’s eyes, whispering, “Repose en paix, Vernal.”, before standing. The tribe leader knew very well….that the taller woman said “rest in peace” in her native language.

Summer went over to the chamber containing the Relic of Knowledge, before grabbing it and holding it over the edge of the abyss. The expression on her face was that of anger….and Raven knew what her former leader was thinking.

“Summer….” She called out. After the former STRQ leader turned to face her old partner, Raven sighed. “Look, I’m not gonna stop you.” She admitted. “But is this really what you think is right at this moment?” Summer’s grip on the Relic tightened as she said, “People... Innocent families are being killed SIMPLY in search of the Maidens and the Relics… Hell, Vernal was killed because of this damn thing!” “But part of you feels like you should use the Relic instead.” The elder Branwen twin said. “Right?”

Summer’s expression softened, before turning to look at the Relic. Finally, after several moments of silence, the former STRQ leader threw the Relic back over towards Raven in frustration. “Fuck this shit….” Summer whispered, walking over and collapsing to her knees in front of her old partner. The tribe leader nodded in agreement, holding the taller woman as a means to calm her down.

“I want a funeral pyre. For Vernal.” Raven whispered. Summer just nodded, “She deserves to rest, doesn’t she?” The tribe leader nodded with a sad sigh, “She deserved a fate better than this…. But this is all I can give her now….” The former STRQ leader nodded with a sigh, lifting Vernal’s body in her arms.

Raven made a portal to her camp, before she and Summer sneaked into an area far from it. There, the two women performed a funeral pyre for Vernal. The two were able to cut up enough wood necessary for it and Summer provided a fire arrow as a means of ignition.

Summer and Raven watched in silence as Vernal’s body burned away into ash, allowing the young bandit to return to the planet that birthed her. “She’d be happy that you were able to give her an honorable and peaceful funeral.” The former STRQ leader explained, before Raven gave a sad nod. Noticing the tribe leader’s tears, Summer pulled Raven into an embrace, which the shorter woman was more than willing to return for comfort.

And as she did so, Raven cut off all ties with the bandit tribe. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (Some time later….)

As Summer and Raven headed into the main lobby via Raven’s portal, the taller of the two said, “Not gonna lie, even though you were bribed by Salem’s pets, I…didn’t expect you to be here.” The elder Branwen nodded in agreement, “Neither did I. Though I had to be here.” “Especially considering what I must protect.” Raven said. The former STRQ leader gave a small smile, receiving another in return.

As they entered the lobby, the pair quickly noticed Ghira and Kali being introduced by Blake and Gambol to the rest of the group. “Looks like that reunion went well.” Raven said, noticing her daughter, step-daughter, and their friends having fun. Summer chuckled with a nod, before waving to Evergreen. Smiling, the former headmaster notified the group of Summer and Raven’s appearance.

Noticing his leader and sister’s return, Qrow immediately went over and hugged his sister. His twin. His family. Raven returned the embrace tightly, before gently breaking it and looking over to her right as Ghira and Kali walked up. “Glad to see you three are still doing well.” The chieftain smiled. “Mostly, at least.” Summer hummed, “We all have a lot of catching up to do.” Kali nodded with a chuckle, “Yes, we do. Perhaps over dinner?” The Silver-Eyed warrior smiled, “Sounds like a plan.”

“But first, I believe you have someone to OFFICIALLY meet.” The former STRQ leader said to Raven, earning a raised eyebrow from her partner.

The taller of the three women, as well as Qrow, chuckled as she motioned Ruby to join her. Raven immediately paled, thinking in panic, ‘Oh shit. I am NOT ready for this.’ As the red cloaked teenager stood next to her mother, Summer said something that the tribe leader would NEVER have expected, “Raven, this is Ruby. Ruby, this is Raven Branwen. She’s your other mom.”

Immediately, the elder Branwen felt like time had stopped.

Summer had just said that the tribe leader was Ruby’s mom as well.

Before Raven could react, Ruby smiled with joy and hugged the elder Branwen tightly. Yang looked at Blake, who smiled and nodded, causing the blonde to go towards the tribe leader. After a few moments, Raven found herself hugging the teenagers tightly.

Only now...did she finally understand. Only now….did she finally remember. In the end, there was no difference, regardless of the surname or blood running through their veins. Hell, it didn’t matter if they shared any relation or not. It never did.

Just like how Summer, Kali, and Taiyang were the twins’ family, Ruby and Yang were also family. That meant Ruby was just as much of her daughter as Yang was.

Her former leader gave her a small smile, filled with pride and a sense of joy. “So.” Raven said. “I...assume you’re waiting for an answer…” Summer sighed, “Raven, I told you. This is your decision. No one’s forcing you to do anything.”

“And you know I’ll support you in any way I can.” The taller woman reassured. The elder Branwen twin sighed with a nod. She knew that. Even after all these years, Summer understood and supported her decision to leave in order to protect everyone she loved.

But the red clad woman knew Vernal was right. THIS is where she should be. Safe…

With her family.

“I...think I’ll join you all.” Raven said, much to her family’s surprise. “Rae, you know you don’t have to…” The former STRQ leader said. The elder twin shook her head, “No, this is where I should be. Where I’m safe. With family.”

“Of course, only under the condition that I don’t fuck up.” She said. Summer sighed with a knowing smirk. “We all make mistakes… That’s life for you.” She said. “But you never made a mistake with your family. That is for certain.”

“Of course, if that DOES somehow happen…” The former STRQ leader started with a smile. “I’ll be there to make it right.” Raven returned the smile, saying, “You better.” “Otherwise you might not get another kiss from me.” She said with a grin.

Summer gave a fake gasp with a smirk, “You would never.” The now-former tribe leader gave a shrug, before giving her partner a smirk that was pure torture for the taller woman. The former STRQ leader proceeded to grin, “Then I guess I’ll have to steal them from you.”, before the two women eagerly kissed each other.

After breaking apart, Summer racked her fingers through Raven’s hair, before connecting her forehead with her partner’s. “Gods, I’ve missed you, Raven...” She whispered. The former tribe leader nodded, a couple tears running down her face as she smiled, “I missed you too, Summer...”

The two women both shared a small chuckle as the truth settled in.

Raven was home….and she wasn’t going anywhere.

She was here to stay this time...and Summer couldn’t be happier.

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

And that’s it for Vol 5. We still have a few special chapters, but after that, we finally begin Vol 6.

Yep, Raven has come home. Vernal is given a private funeral and begs Raven not to go back to the tribe.

Cinder is BAT-SHIT insane, though I’m sure you all knew that about my Cinder by now.

Next, we have the united-moms chapter that I promised ages ago.

#rwby #rwby au #grimm guardians au #rwby ocs #rwby fanfiction #Summer Rose #raven branwen #rosebird #Vernal #qrow branwen #ruby rose #weiss schnee #Blake Belladonna #Gambol Shroud #yang xiao long #ember celica #ghira belladonna #kali belladonna #team jnpr

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Don’t Worry

Prompt: okay so i found your quarantine drabble "it started with a flower" merlin series and can we pls have more of gwen and arthur being worry warts while merlin continues to not understand why their worried? bonus points if merlin is immortal/cant be killed by human injuries so he's more reckless and gwen and arthur are just like "oh for fucks sake please stop merlin if for no other reason then we are mortal and you're killing us w stress" we love self-sacrificing merlin and his worried lovers

Thanks for the prompt, babe! It was so nice to look back at the true mountain of drabbles on this account...still can't get over the fact that a drabble is SUPPOSED to be 100 words exactly...also SHAMELESS D20 reference because that's how we roll babey

Read on Ao3

Pairings: merthur, gwen/arthur, gwen/arthur/merlin

Warnings: none

Word Count: 5653

Merlin has lived through many, many things. He continues to live through many, many things.

The fact that he can do this does not prevent Gwen and Arthur from worrying when he makes some, frankly, quite questionable decisions.

Or, five times Merlin makes Arthur and Gwen worry, and one time they make him worry in return.

1: Poison

In hindsight, the visiting lord was absolutely trying to kill both Arthur and Gwen. The man turned up with all his servants and knights in armor. Even the servants, yes, in leather tunics and with many different squires juggling things that were definitely supposed to be kept hidden. Arthur, of course, didn’t realize this because he’s been trying to be more focused on his own presentation—at least that’s the excuse he gives Gwen—but Merlin knows better. He’s been doing this for a long time.

So when the lord makes a show of rising to his feet amidst a jubilant feast, raising a goblet high in the air, praising Camelot, her strength, and the power of a strong, worthy leader, Merlin has to hide the roll of his eyes when he deftly removes both Gwen and Arthur’s goblets from their grasps. Arthur opens his prat mouth to ask what the hell is going on, only for Merlin to raise an eyebrow, toast to the lord, and down the contents of both.

“Merlin!”

Lancelot is out of his chair in an instant, rushing across the hall to catch Merlin as he slumps, followed swiftly by Gwaine who bellows for Gaius. Percival and Elyan don’t hesitate to draw steel, watching as the servants of the visiting lord hold up their hands.

“My lord,” the visiting lord simpers, “I have absolutely no idea what could have—“

“Save it,” Arthur growls, standing, “you have brought poison into the heart of Camelot. You will explain, but I have no wish to hear your pathetic mumblings right now.”

He turns his back on the lord as the knights rush him, holding the others at bay as Arthur kneels down at Merlin’s side. Gwen rises as well, her chin aloft, looking every bit the queen she is.

Merlin, of course, can’t hear a damn thing past the roaring of blood in his ears. This one’s a nasty one—he can feel it burning as it goes down his throat, splitting off into slivers that find their way through his body, into his chest, into his arms, right down to the tips of his fingers. It feels as though he’s both deathly cold and about to sweat out every little bit of moisture in his body.

He can’t see much either, his eyes squeezing shut to deal with the pain, but he can sense the moving of blurry shapes above him. Probably Lancelot, probably Gwaine, probably not Gaius yet, he’s quite far away.

Oh, is he being lifted? He’s probably being lifted. Alright, so they’re taking him to Gaius this time. That’s new. Wow, is the walk to Gaius’s always this long? Yes? No? He’s having a bit of a hard time keeping track of time right now.

“Merlin? Merlin, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Merlin tries to say, only for his throat to explode in agony again the second fresh air enters, so he just ends up making this horrible half-screech-groan sound.

“Don’t try and speak,” the voice orders, presumably doing something other than just standing there watching this happen, not that Merlin can feel anything, “just hold on. We’re doing our best.”

Merlin closes his eyes fully and relaxes as much as he can onto the bench. Which probably isn’t very much if he remembers how most of these poisons work. He breathes, reaches deep into his chest for his magic, and waits, letting the slow golden light work its way around his body, helped along by whatever Gaius is doing to him.

He opens his eyes an uncertain amount of time later, looking straight into the most disapproving eyebrow he’s gotten in a while.

He swallows, cracking a smile when his throat merely tingles.

“So,” he croaks, “did I miss the rest of the feast?”

“Oh, Merlin!”

Ah, there’s Gwen—she flies into his arms, wrapping her own tightly around his middle, squeezing and holding on for dear life. Oh, her face is wet, has she—

“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, clumsily trying to pat her back, “it’s okay, ‘m alright. You’re alright too.”

“Thanks to you,” Gwen says, drawing back and wiping her face only to join Gaius in staring at him with the face of a disappointed parent, “Merlin, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I have a much better chance of surviving that than you and Arthur?”

Gwen bats his shoulder with her shawl. “That is beside the point and you know it. You scared us.”

“Sorry, but—“

“No, Merlin,” Gwen says sternly, “no ‘buts.’ I understand what you’re trying to do, but you know this isn’t good for you.”

“I don’t normally down poison on the regular, no.”

He grins, big and cheeky, right in her face. And to give her credit, she manages to gold that stern queenly façade for a few moments longer before she breaks, smiling and shaking her head and rushing right back in to hug him.

“I trust you unconditionally,” she murmurs, “I just wish you didn’t have to.”

“I have to keep you safe,” Merlin mumbles, still quite tired from fighting the poison, “and I’m alright. I’m always alright, you know that.”

“I know, Merlin.” She draws back and cups his face with a gentle hand. “But I worry.”

“So do I.”

“Not about yourself,” Gwen whispers, “not nearly as much as you should.”

“Well, when I start reacting to deadly things like a normal person, I’ll be more worried.”

2: Bandits

They’re just on a hunting trip. It’s not even a patrol. The knights aren’t even in all their capes and obvious things that flap about in the wind like signal flags saying ‘yes! Hello! We are here and we are obviously from Camelot! Please come and try to stab us!’ Seriously, Merlin’s going to have words with whoever decided that a mandatory part of the knights’ everyday patrol wear is going to be massive red things tied around their necks. It’s a serious thing that he’s run into at least four times. It’s getting a little ridiculous.

Anyway, they’re not wearing those this time, because this is a casual hunt for only the king and his most trusted. Also known as: Arthur the prat is getting tired of being a prat in the castle and wants to go be a prat outside.

Also also known as: court life is hard and the knights—and Merlin—can see Arthur getting tired. So they drag him out to the woods where he can’t escape any of their snark because “There’s no one else here but us, Princess, get used to it.”

Merlin knows Arthur well enough to know he’s secretly very, very grateful for it.

You wanna know what he’s probably not grateful for? The inability of one of their hunts to go without running into at least one mess of bandits after an easy raid.

One hunt, just one. Please.

Merlin doesn’t even like hunts. He just likes not being in the citadel all the time.

He ducks swiftly behind a tree as a bandit takes a wild swing at him with his sword, getting it lodged in the trunk next to him. Merlin’s eyes go wide as the bandit rips it out again with a vicious snarl, drool leaking from his lips as he grins angrily at Merlin. His nose wrinkles as he smells the bandit’s breath.

“Ugh, you’re worse than Arthur in the morning.”

He uses the bandit’s momentary confusion to blast him across the clearing into a tree, knocking him out.

“So Arthur in the morning, huh?”

Merlin rolls his eyes as Gwaine blocks another sword. “Listen, if you want to try and get the prat out of bed, you be my guest.”

“And deprive you of that honor?” Gwaine smirks. “Not on your life.”

Merlin opens his mouth to make some snappy remark when he notices four bandits rushing at them over Gwaine’s shoulder.

“Look out!”

He sends Gwaine to the side with a blast of magic, ignoring the shout of protest. The bandits get closer, swords raised high, one of them letting out a vicious cackle.

Merlin sighs. Honestly.

He raises his hand and sends them all flying backward, smiling a little at the way the vicious cackle turns into a whine that would’ve made the runt of the new litter of dogs ashamed. The bandits lie on the ground, dazed, swords lying all across the clearing.

“Merlin!”

Merlin glances over, seeing Arthur rushing at him. He barely has time to turn before Arthur’s bowling into him, hugging him so tightly he panics for a second that Arthur’s under some sort of enchantment trying to kill him. Only to realize no, this is just his prat hugging him because he’s scared.

“I’m fine, Arthur.”

“There were four of them, you—clot pole!”

“That’s my word.”

“Yes, and it suits you perfectly! Merlin, you could’ve been killed!”

Merlin makes a show of looking around at himself, still fully intact, then back up at a panting Arthur. “I think I’m all in one piece, sire.”

“Don’t you ‘sire’ me, Merlin, you—“

“Did Arthur just admit that he likes it when I don’t refer to him with the proper titles?” Merlin glances around at the other knights that are trying valiantly not to laugh. “Did I just hear that right?”

“That’s what I heard.”

“Me too.”

“I mean we all knew it.”

“It’s taken him this long to figure it out.”

Leon simply shrugs. That man’s ability to keep a straight face is something Merlin will always respect and never understand. But he has gotten very good at spotting the way Leon will wink surreptitiously at him when he’s amused. Like now.

“Alright, alright, enough,” Arthur mutters, sheathing his sword and wrapping his arms tightly around Merlin again. “Don’t do that.”

“What, take care of all of our enemies really easily?”

“Scare me.”

“And now you’re admitting that you get scared when I’m in danger?”

“Only because I know Gwen would have my head.”

“Ah, yes, because Gwen is like that.”

Arthur glares at him. There’s a flash of something behind his eyes. Merlin spots it.

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, too quiet for the others to hear, “and I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“You’d better be.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Gwaine calls loudly to various laughs, “let’s go. There are still tracks here.”

Arthur looks back at Merlin. “You’re riding next to me.”

“You say that as if I don’t already ride next to you.”

“Shut up.”

3: Fall

Okay so listen: when you chase people around the castle, they inevitably look for a way out. And if they’re high up, they’re going to go for a window if they get desperate enough.

Yes? Everyone on the same page?

Wonderful.

So Merlin’s currently falling out of a window.

In his defense, there was a rogue sorcerer who hadn’t realized that the ban on magic had been lifted and Uther isn’t king anymore skulking around the citadel. Merlin’s best guess is that they were imprisoned somewhere and only just got free, otherwise they’d’ve known. And, well, they tried to explain that magic is legal now—he’s so proud of Gwen and Arthur, really.

Someone just burst into their chambers in the middle of the knight and Gwen had been out of bed, offering him a drink and sitting down while Arthur asked the guards if they could bring food. They’d told him the ban had been lifted and that he was free to practice magic now. Then Merlin had shown up and asked what was going on and apparently, they’d taken it as a challenge? That Merlin—the Court Sorcerer—was going to arrest them for practicing magic.

In their defense, it was the middle of the night. Not in their defense, come on.

So they’d run, promising to bring down the walls of the castle. Merlin had rolled his eyes because he just got here, and taken off after him. They’d run around the top floors of the castle for a while, trying to figure out first, where the stairs were, and second, what the bloody hell was going on.

Then the sorcerer had jumped out a window. Sure. Alright.

Unluckily for him, when he’d broken the glass, a large shard had decided to make its home in his chest and he was dead before he hit the ground. Merlin, not realizing precisely what the plan was—when had he ever?—jumped after him, only to realize that there is in fact, no courtyard over here, just empty air until the cold stone of the square below.

So, falling.

It’s surprisingly peaceful, as a way to go. Time to enjoy the view, a good reminder that they should really make sure there’s someone at the front gate, and Merlin simply closes his eyes and concentrates.

There.

At the last possible minute, he slows, reaching almost a stop, before letting himself drop the last few feet to land harmlessly on the ground. Well. That could’ve gone better.

“Merlin!”

“Right on time,” he mutters, getting himself to his feet, and brushing off the little pieces of glass, looking up to see Gwen leaning out of the window.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, thank god,” she calls, “you’re alright. Now get up here, this instant.”

He grins, sweeping into a low bow before heading up the stairs. He opens the door to their quarters and is promptly yanked inside and into an embrace.

“Hello, Gwen,” he says softly, “it’s good to see you too.”

“Good to see—Merlin,” Gwen scolds, "you could’ve been hurt.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Gwen wipes her face and oh…oops.

“I’m alright Gwen,” he says quietly, “really.”

It’s late. It’s the middle of the night and it’s dark and Gwen just had to put on every single ounce of royal charm she has, and watch Merlin take a fall that would’ve killed pretty much everyone else. As he watches, her queenly mask starts to break as she keeps a hold of his sleeve, dragging him to the table and setting a plate of food aside, glaring at him.

“Are you hurt?”

“Not at all, my lady.”

“Don’t. Not now, Merlin. Not while I’m this worried.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” he demurs, lifting his hands in surrender, “but really, Gwen, I’m not hurt. I’ve been practicing that spell, it won’t—“

“You’ve been practicing?” Merlin winces as Gwen draws herself up taller. “So you regularly throw yourself from great heights?”

“No, I just jump off my bed.”

“Off your bed?”

“The point is that I slow immediately when the spell takes effect,” Merlin says, “so I don’t need very much distance from the floor.”

She folds her arms and stares at him. “So what you’re saying is this is the first time you’ve done it from a great height and you weren’t sure it was going to work?”

Merlin’s hesitation gives her all the answers she needs.

“Gods, Merlin,” she mumbles, slumping into a chair and covering her face, “you’re going to scare me to death one of these days.”

“Nah. I’ll save you from that.”

“How, by doing some equally death-defying stunt?”

Merlin grins and takes her hand. “No. By not letting you see it.”

“Merlin…”

He relents, opening his arms and letting her give him another hug. He squeezes back firmly, trying to communicate that he’s here, he’s safe, and it’s okay.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Gwen whispers eventually, “and I’m glad that everything…worked out. We do need to make sure that the sorcerers no longer feel the need to live in fear…”

Merlin chuckles as he feels Gwen’s brow furrow against his shoulder, probably already drafting things to do.

“Not tonight, Your Majesty,” he scolds gently, pushing her toward the bed, “you need rest.”

“Mm.”

“Where’s Arthur?”

“Probably looking for you,” Gwen murmurs as she slides back beneath the covers, “so you have to stay up until he gets back.”

“…and so he can yell at me too, hmm?”

Gwen snuggles into her pillow and smiles.

4: Stab

So.

Uh, Merlin doesn’t really know how they got here this time.

Because—right, well, it’s not really a secret that Merlin is very close to both Gwen and Arthur. It’s just not. Anyone with a pair of eyes who can walk into Camelot and see them is going to figure it out. Even Uther realized it.

Merlin will never forget the way Arthur burst out laughing when he told him what Uther said to Merlin that day before the tournament, looking up with tears in his eyes and just managing to gasp: “you’re telling me that you and I got my father’s blessing before Gwen and I even started seeing each other?”

Yes. Yes, he is.

Anyway, the point is, Gwen, Merlin, Arthur, they’re very close.

Also something that should be fairly obvious to anyone who’s been to Camelot in the last little bit of time is that one: magic is legal. Two: Merlin is Court Sorcerer.

Get it? Wonderful. So.

The man who is currently holding Merlin hostage with a sword to his throat knows that Merlin is important to Gwen and Arthur. He doesn’t seem to realize that Merlin is Court Sorcerer.

How those two things are not the first two things he realized Merlin does not understand. Honestly, he’s going to chalk that up to why he’s too startled by the fact that he’s got people coming at him with a sword to do anything about it. The sheer inability of those facts to reconcile in his brain prevents him from taking any action.

Honestly, he’s still figuring that out. Enough so that it takes him a while to realize that Leon is desperately trying to signal him and ask if he’s alright.

He gives back the okay and Leon’s expression morphs into one of soft exasperation. To everyone else, it probably doesn’t look like Leon’s face has changed at all, but they haven’t spent several council meetings with the man trading insults only through shifts in micro-expressions.

It’s quite entertaining, especially when they start to get really, really creative.

Anyway. Sword. Throat. Yes.

He’s not sure why currently being held hostage. Someone who wants something, probably. That’s generally why people get taken hostage, right? The sword presses a little closer and Merlin makes an effort to focus.

“Do this,” Arthur warns, his own sword out, “and you will never leave Camelot alive.”

“What good is Camelot,” the man scoffs, “if it allows for the devilish act of witchcraft and sorcery that will poison it from the inside?”

“You’re wrong.”

“Maybe,” the man snarls, spittle flying from his lips, “but not nearly as stupid as you.”

Arthur glances at Merlin. Merlin nods.

“Let him go,” Arthur says again, “and this might yet end well.”

The man throws his head back and cackles, the sword nudging insistently at his throat. Merlin winces. That was loud.

“This won’t end well,” the man says through his giggles, “and you know it.”

“Then let him go.”

“Alright,” the man snickers, “but you’ll have to give me a head start.”

Gwaine snarls, even as Arthur holds firm.

“I make you no promises.”

“I know. That’s why I’m giving myself a head start.”

Merlin’s about to wonder what the hell that means only for the sword to drive into his stomach.

Ah. That’s not ideal.

He slumps to the ground as the man lets him go, hearing the screams from the servants gathered in the hall and the shouts from the knights. He feels the breeze as they rush past him, two remaining behind to immediately put pressure on the wound and get him upright, wrapping his stomach tightly and promising that he’s going to be alight.

“‘Lyan?”

“Yeah, Merlin,” Elyan mutters, “it’s me. Leon’s here too, we’ve got you.”

“You’ll be alright, yes?” Leon whips off the bloodied tunic. “You will be fine.”

“Sit m’ up.”

They do, propping him up against the wall as the servants quickly rush for Gaius, for hot water, for bandages. Someone—maybe Malwen—sets a bowl at Leon’s elbow, followed by the quick assurances that Gaius is on his way.

Merlin closes his eyes and concentrates, trying to remember the few times Gaius tried to teach him about basic anatomy. Listen, it’s not that he wasn’t paying attention, it’s just that he—

Yeah, no, he wasn’t paying much attention.

Listen, like…three different people were trying to kill Arthur that day. He was preoccupied.

Stab wound. Right.

Merlin takes a deep breath, ignoring the way the breath aches and wheezes as it travels into him, and starts to gently draw magic from the well in his chest toward the stab wound. He feeds it slowly, trying not to overexert himself, just enough to staunch and stop the bleeding until Gaius can get here.

Something clatters to the floor next to him and he barely looks over enough to see Arthur.

“Stay still,” Arthur murmurs frantically, fussing with his tunic, “you’ll be alright Merlin, I promise, you’re going to be alright.”

Merlin knows, but he’s busy right now, so he can’t really talk back.

“It’s going to be alright,” Arthur repeats, over and over, “Merlin, you’re going to be alright.”

He manages to look over, catching sight of Arthur’s hair a mess, his eyes wild, his mouth a hard line. Arthur glances up from his slightly trembling hands and catches his gaze, doing his best to put on a brave smile. He reaches out and cups Merlin’s face gently.

“It’s going to be alright,” he says softly, speaking as much to both of them as he can, “you’re going to be alright, Gaius will fix you up, and then I can worry about how to make sure you’re safe, so this never happens again.”

His mouth quirks when something flits across Merlin’s face.

“If you try and tell me you can take care of yourself,” he admonishes gently, “I am going to remind you that you currently have quite the stab wound.”

One that Merlin is handling quite well, actually, thank you very much.

“I know you’d rather it be you than us,” Arthur whispers, laying his forehead against Merlin’s, “but you—you can’t just let this happen to you, Merlin, you’ll…”

He swallows, his eyes drifting shut.

“…you’ll break my heart.”

A surge of magic shoots through Merlin at Arthur’s hushed confession, filling the wound with a burning glow. Merlin leans forward as much as he can, resting his own weight on the wall and on Arthur. Arthur holds him gladly, muttering that he can’t wait until Merlin’s better so he can scold him for being so reckless.

Well, when Merlin figures out how the man didn’t realize he was magic, he’ll have one hell of a defense. Who knows, Arthur might get a kick out of it too.

5: Plague

At some point, Merlin thinks as he heaves another stone out of the way, we’re going to stop coming across cursed objects. There has to be a limit. There just has to be.

This one has a plague attached to it because of course, it does. The entire citadel had been overrun with shadow demons that could only be seen by one person, everyone jumping at every little sound, unsure of whether they were seeing real people or the figments of their nightmares. What made things far worse is that some of them could be seen by multiple people and some of them couldn’t. So you could never be sure whether people would believe what you were seeing.

Someone called this the Plague of the Shadow Cat.

Gaius had gone into the books, trying to figure out a solution. Turns out the only way was to go to this cavern out in the middle of nowhere and destroy these four totems that allowed the Shadow Cat passage, in order to break the curse. The problem was that the cavern was in the middle of a massive forest that no one wanted to go close to.

Merlin had sighed and packed his bags.

As it turns out, the forest was designed to keep people out of it—reasonable—and used magic to twist someone’s fears to keep them at bay. You know what Merlin has? Magic.

It was easier than it would’ve been for anyone else, surely, which is good. What isn’t good is that Merlin still has to survive going through this massive forest. He’s had enough of dried meat and berries for a long time, thank you very much.

After about a day or two of walking and not getting lost, he’s just being thorough, he reaches the entrance of the cavern. It’s piled high with rocks from what looks like a collapse, and starts trying to get them out of the way. Unfortunately, most of his magic is going to keeping the nightmares at bay, meaning he can’t really risk using it to get these stones out of his way lest he let the nightmares in.

He’s had enough nightmares for a lifetime already.

He grunts as he heaves another one out of the way. Honestly. Is there a checklist he can look at with all the cursed objects in the world? They’ve got to be at least halfway done at this point, come on. It’s been years.

At last, he manages to get the stones out of the way and ventures into the cavern. Around the twists and turns he reaches the center, seeing the four totems. He snaps his fingers to create a light, peering at each one. It seems as if he’s just going to have to disenchant them. Well, that won’t be too hard.

And…it isn’t. Huh. That’s a little anti-climactic.

He’s sure if he had to battle his way past his greatest fears and the Shadow Cat was actually here fighting him, this would be a lot harder. But, it’s not, so here he is, all done. Now he just has to get back through the forest. Ugh.

Merlin rides back into Camelot to see the people in the streets, happy, content, not afraid. He smiles, letting their joy wash some of the forests off of him. He slides off Cara and puts her away, wiping her down and giving her as many treats as the stable master will let him. He makes it back inside, to Gaius’s chambers, ready to throw open the door triumphantly and announce he’s fixed it!

The second he opens it to see Gwen and Arthur he freezes.

“…hello.”

“Hello, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, and oh shit he’s in trouble, “did you travel well?”

“A little damp, if I’m being…” He trails off when Arthur shoots him a look. “Yes. I did.”

Arthur nods sharply, leaning against the table and folding his arms.

“The curse is broken,” he tries, letting the door shut behind him, “and I don’t think it’ll ever come back.”

“That’s good, Merlin,” Arthur says in a tone of voice that suggests anything but, “that’s very good.”

Merlin nods hesitantly, glancing at Gwen. Gwen doesn’t look back at him, her eyes fixed on the vase of flowers in front of her. She withdraws one and holds it gently in her hands, turning toward Merlin, expressionless. Merlin fights the urge to flinch as she finally looks up at him.

“Do you know,” she says and this time Merlin does flinch, Gwen’s never sounded that cold before, “what happened the last time you vanished without telling us?”

Merlin’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach.

Oh.

Oh, no.

“I’m sorry,” he says, starting forward, “I didn’t realize—I—“

“No, Merlin,” Gwen says, still cold, “you don’t realize.”

“We trust you, Merlin,” Arthur continues, “but that doesn’t mean that you can just leave, in the middle of a plague, on a mission that could get you killed without saying goodbye.”

“You don’t get to decide that it’s worth it,” Gwen says before Merlin can interrupt, “and you certainly don’t get to decide that we don’t deserve a chance to say goodbye.”

Merlin deflates, their words striking his chest with such ferocity that for a moment, he wonders if this is the fear he’s meant to face. “I’m…I’m sorry, I just…I knew I could do it.”

He closes his eyes. “I have to protect Camelot, protect you.”

“We know, Merlin,” Gwen says, her voice finally softening just a little, “but you don’t realize that we have to protect you too.”

Arthur walks forward, lifting Merlin’s chin. Merlin stares at him, desperately wanting Arthur to smile. Something.

“You’re the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth,” Arthur says instead, “but you’re still our Merlin. So we worry.”

“I know.”

“So,” Arthur says, giving him a gentle nudge, “don’t do that.”

“You may be nearly immortal, but we’re not,” Gwen adds, coming over to take his hand too, “and you will give us more reason to stress than any of the things you stop put together.”

Merlin looks back and forth between the two of them. “So you’re not…angry?”

“Oh, of course we are.”

Merlin winces, only for Arthur to pull him into a tight hug, his head tucking over Merlin’s shoulder.

“Completely furious,” he murmurs, nuzzling into Merlin’s neck, “aren’t we, Gwen?”

“Absolutely.” Merlin feels Gwen wrap her arms around him as well. “Totally and utterly furious.”

Merlin wriggles halfheartedly in their grasp. “I’m not getting out of this anytime soon, am I?”

“No. This is your punishment. Stay put.”

“…fine.”

+1: Cold

“No, Arthur,” Merlin grunts, shoving the prat back into bed, “stay, I will get you the soup.”

Arthur pouts, looking every bit a sad golden puppy in his read blanket as Merlin bustles about the room. “I can stand, Merlin.”

“No, you can’t, you’re sick. Now shush and eat.”

From the other room comes a sneeze that is far too close to the door.

“Gwen, you’d better be in bed when I come in there!”

He hears the quick pitter-patter of footsteps as he crosses the room to the other chambers, hands on his hips as Gwen glances up, guiltily letting the covers drop on top of her.

“I’m in bed,” she says, holding up her hands, “see?”

“Yes, I can see,” Merlin huffs, “but you have to stay there. You’re sick.”

“It’s just a cold, Merlin, I’m—I’m—“

Gwen is cut off by another spectacular sneeze.

“…handkerchief?”

Merlin rolls his eyes and offers her one, watching as she blows her nose and shakes out her curls. If Arthur’s the puppy, she’s the kitten, startling herself with the force of her own sneezes.

“What were you so desperate to get out of bed for?”

“The book on my desk,” Gwen mumbles, reaching for it, “I wanted to—“

“Keep working.”

“No!” At Merlin’s knowing look, she makes a face. “…maybe.”

Merlin sighs. “I will get you a book, but you promised you wouldn’t try to work like this.”

“But I’m fine.”

“Yes, and I notice your sneezes didn’t interrupt you this time.”

“Merlin, I am alright.”

“Yes, so let’s have you stay in bed and rest until you’re better, hmm?”

He hears a clang from the other room. He narrows his eyes at Gwen who blinks innocently at him. Without breaking eye contact, he waves his hand.

“Hey!”

“Get your arse back in bed, sire.”

“I’m fine, Merlin.”

Merlin raises his eyebrows at Gwen. “Will you stay while I get your husband back in bed, please?”

“…if you bring me the book on the desk, I will.”

Merlin glances over and waves his hand. Gwen’s poetry book—not her work book—flies into his hand and he gives it to her.

“All yours.”

“Merlin, that’s not—“

“You surely weren’t trying to work were you?” He raises his eyebrows. “Because that would be a bad idea.”

Gwen pops open the book and buries her nose in it. “…thank you, Merlin.”

“You are most welcome. Now you,” he announces, striding back to see Arthur trying to open the now magically locked door, “will go back to bed.”

“Gaius said we were fine, Merlin,” Arthur pouts, “so we can go.”

“Gaius also said that I was in charge, so you’ll go back to bed.”

“Well, I’m the King.”

“And I’m the Court Sorcerer.” Merlin lifts his hand, letting a little of his magic swirl around his hand. “Which means you should get back in bed.”

“Threatening a king is treason, Merlin.”

“Yes, yes, and I’m sure the knights would be thrilled,” Merlin replies dryly, shooing Arthur back to bed, “now you will stay put.”

He doesn’t quite swaddle Arthur in the blanket but it is a close thing. Arthur just grumbles a little, reaching out and grabbing Merlin’s tunic and dragging him down onto the bed too. “Then you stay.”

“I have to get your medicine.”

“Have the guards do it.” Arthur snuggles into his tunic. “You stay.”

Merlin resigns himself to his fate, curling around his king. Arthur rumbles happily, nuzzling into Merlin’s neck.

“That’s the last time I let you two go out for picnics in the moonlight,” Merlin grumbles to himself, “look at what’s happened to you.”

“Now you know how we feel,” Arthur mumbles sleepily.

“You realize that we are now even for all of the things I’ve done, then.”

“Oh, no. Not even close.”

“Shut up and go to sleep, sire.”

#merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur #merthur fic #gwen #arthur pendragon #fic #dragonbabbles

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