#If she has not beaten Ashe yet

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 11. Glimpse of the Past

Time for Dahlia and her squad to make the dreaded walk to meet the dragons waiting to bond them. Anything could happen.

Set Pre Fourth Wing/Books

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

We’d done it. Every single one of us had made it up the Gauntlet. One of the few squads in our year to do so. And most importantly I had beaten Dain. Something I knew he was not pleased about when he had asked my time when he had reached the top. Sadly I had not gotten the fastest time, but I’d beaten him and that was all that mattered to me.

”This scares me more than climbing that Gauntlet.” Liz says ahead of me as she eyes the dragons ahead lining the edge of clearing were moments away from walking.

”If it makes you feel any better you’re not the only one.” I say back as I eye them as well.

So far I can only see some Red’s and Green’s. Not a single Blue in sight just yet. Which honestly didn’t surprise me. But I was secretly hoping I would see at least one. Just one Blue dragon. Just one to give me hope of finding one in four days time.

Austin turns and stares at me confused. She had clearly fallen into the category of assuming I would be fine walking into a canyon full of Dragons. “Why are you scared? Didn’t you grow up around Dragons?”

I tear my eyes from the Dragons lining the walls and meet her eyes. “Only a fool wouldn’t be terrified of walking in there. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about growing up around Dragon’s is always keep your guard up and be prepared for anything.”

She clearly senses a double meaning to my words, maybe even hearing the slight hint of pain in my voice as she purses her lips and nods. I can tell she wants to know more, but she’s smart enough to note this is not the place for it.

”Alright Third Squad, into formation,” Our section leader Kai calls out as he waves us forward.

We all step forward, forming a single line just like the squads before us had. Clearly it was a formation that gave us the best chance of survival. Our group ends up at the back of the line, with Bodhi bringing up the rear.

”I’m sure Xaden has gone over this. But it is a straight walk down the meadow, where you will keep at least seven feet apart should a dragon decide one of you are not worthy.” He adds as he walks down our line.

In front of me I watch Liz’s back go rigid at his words. Yes Xaden had told us, but he’d definitely had more tact behind his words than Kai did.

”You’ll be fine,” I whisper in her ear, watching as her shoulders relax again at my words.

I was not letting him get to us. We we’re going to get through this.

”Once you get to the end, wait for the rest of your squad before turning and walking back down in a single line again. If I see one of you approach a dragon… Well lets just say I won’t be seeing you again. Any questions?”

Kai scans the line, waiting to see if any of us have a question. When he’s satisfied none of us are going to ask anything he waves us forward to the next rider, as we round the corner the familiar face of Damon comes into view.

”I’m sure Kai gave you a rundown of what to do. Just do exactly what he says and you’ll be fine.” He tells us as the group before us returns from their walk. I can’t help but notice they are down a few members of their squad, their faces grim as they pass us.

”Oh and make sure you talk to each other. It helps the dragons get a feel for what you’re like, and it helps take away the nerves.” He says as he holds out his arm for us to walk forward.

As we walk up the dirt path, I scan the dragons around us, careful to not make any eye contact with them. A lot of the dragon colours didn’t like it, and I wasn’t becoming victim to their fire because I’d stupidly looked them in the eye. If it wasn’t for the fact I knew they were real, I’d almost think they were statues. As we step into the clearing I’m immediately hit with the smell of sulphur, and as I cast my gaze to my right there is a very fresh pile of ash that’s the cause of the strong odour. Most likely one of the cadets from the group before us.

”I know they said there were fewer dragons this year, but theres still so many.” Liz says in awe as her eyes scan the canyon.

”Wait till we bond a dragon and you see the entire quadrant in formation.” I tell her, her head whipping around to meet mine with an excited look on her face.

Two months ago if I’d said that she would have been terrified, now she wanted to jump head on into anything, Austin included. Seems I was rubbing off on them.

”They’re all just watching us. Can’t they fucking do something?” A cadet called Eddie yelled from the front of the group.

He was one of the more rebelious ones in our squad. Always pushing the limit. And he was clearly here for the glory of being called a Dragon Rider. I never wished death upon anyone, but part of me wanted him to get what was coming to him. He had no respect for the role or for the dragons we we’re going to hopefully bond in the coming days.

”Be careful what you say. No dragon is going to want to bond someone with an attitude like that?” Bodhi calls out from behind me, a few muffled laughs coming from the line.

Eddie stops, whirling around to make eye contact with Bodhi. “And no ones going to bond a marked one like you. So shut your mouth.”

Bodhi opens his mouth to respond, but I’m quicker to bite back as I cut him off. “At the rate you’re going you aren’t making it out of this clearing alive. So change your attitude or keep your mouth shut.”

Eddie turns his attention to me, his eyes hardening as they meet mine. I was the only one in our squad he hadn’t made a comment about to tried to come at. And it was clear why. I’d seen him sucking up to Dain a few times. In his eyes, if he was in our good books, it would bode well for him in terms of moving up the ranks. Sadly being in my good books wasn’t going to do him any good. I watch as he lets out a huff of air before turning and continuing his walk up the clearing.

”Part of me hopes you’re right.” Bodhi mutters behind me as the line starts to move again.

We pass group after group, each of them eyeing us off, getting a sense for who we are. As we pass a group of Green’s, I catch one of them immediately pivoting their attention to Bodhi. I hear him gasp, his shadow moving quickly as he averts his gaze from its eyes. The dragon’s head pivots to follow him as we pass.

”Looks like you might get your Green after all.” I call back to him, secretly hoping the interest it had shown was good.

”I hope so. They did seem interested in me.” He says in agreeance.

”It did!” Liz says excitedely.

”Yeah, it barely looked at any of us once it saw you.” Austin adds.

I knew if I turned my head I would see a shit eating grin on his face, and the thought brought my own smile to my face.

We make it to the end, turning to face the clearing we’d just walked up. All the dragons eyeing us again. It reminded me of a creepy book I’d read once where the eyes and heads of statues would follow you when you weren’t looking. I’d barely turned thirteen at the time and had kept a keen eye on any statues I was around for a few weeks after.

”I vote you go first Aetos, seeing as you seem to know how to act around dragon’s and know what they want. Why don’t you show us how its done?” Eddie challenges as steps forward from the group.

Everyone’s eyes jump between us, eager to see if I would rise to Eddie’s challenge. But something told me he was up to something. There was a glint in his eyes. And the last time I’d been challenged to do something around a dragon it had not gone well.

I roll my eyes at him but step forward. “Fine, I’ll lead if you’re too scared to do it now.”

I barely catch the grimace on his face before I turn and start walking back down the path. A few seconds later I feel him take his place behind me. And somehow I know he’s not keeping the allotted seven feet advised by the senior riders. He was definitely up to something, and with the situation we we’re in my heart rate was picking up. My palms becoming sweaty as I scan the path ahead. No this was not going to be a repeat of that day. I was going to walk out of here fine.

”Hey, keep your distance Eddie.” Bodhi calls out from the back of the group as we pass the halfway mark.

”Just staying close so I can learn from the expert in our squad. I mean her dad is a dragon rider after all, she grew up around them. And from the comment she made before she clearly knows how to act around them. I need to learn from the best.” He mocks from behind me causing my back to go rigid as his breath fans across my neck. He was way too close.

”Back up Eddie.” I warn.

”Or what? You going to fight me in front of a dragon? You going to break that precious codex we all follow and piss of your dad? I don’t think so.” His voiced laced with anger. I’d clearly pissed him off earlier.

I continue my walk down the middle, increasing my pace to try get some distance from him. I barely get a few steps between us before his hand grasps my upper arm as he spins me around to face him. I’m quick to react, my hands rising up to meet his chest as I go to push myself away. As my hands meet the centre of his chest and push myself away, the ground shakes beneath me, the rest of our squad gasping in shock before walking away from Eddie.

I watch as his eyes turn cold with fear. His face draining of any colour as he looks above me. I catch a glimpse of orange igniting in his eyes before the heat rushes over my head. A heat I am all to familiar with. A heat that haunts me years later in my sleep. A heat that consumes Eddie in a ball of fire, leaving nothing but a pile of ash and the smell of sulphur lingering in the air. I look up and meet the terrified eyes of my squad who are all looking up at something behind me.

All I can hear is my heart thundering loudly in my chest as I turn on my heel to see what stand’s behind me. I keep my head down, not daring to meet the eye of what’s behind me. As I turn the first thing I see are the massive talons that could easily be the size of me. As my eyes move up, my breath catches in my throat.

Sapphire. Sapphire scales.

I can’t stop myself as my head whips up to take in what’s behind me. This was easily the biggest dragon in the clearing, and probably one of the biggest I had ever seen. And easily one of the more ruthless dragons I had seen. His horns far larger and bigger than the others, his head decorated with vicious looking spikes. And a pair of orange eyes that almost looked like they were glowing and we’re looking right at me. A pair of orange eyes I had seen before.

I couldn’t help but be drawn to a blue one down the back. Blue dragons had always been my favourite.

The dragon nods, freaking nods at me before bending its legs and launching into the air. An eerie silence falls over the clearing in the wake of the Blue Dragon leaving, all of us staring where it once stood.

“Did she make eye contact with it?”

”If she did she’d be dead.”

”She definitely did.”

”And did it nod at her?”

The whispers of my squad meet my ears as I come back to reality after what’s just happened. I had looked that dragon in the eye and it had indeed nodded at me. Despite still being a decent way into the clearing, surrounded by dragons, I do the thing I really shouldn’t do. I run. My feet pushing me to get out of that clearing as fast as I can as Bodhi calls my name behind me.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94

[lurkinginnernarrator]

Do we talk about the tragedy of Wen Ning enough? I think not.

From a young age, Wen Ning's support has come from Wen Qing, she parentified herself out of necessity and love for Wen Ning. Watching your older sibling beat out their childishness and innocence, for your sake, that is a special type of torture.

Now Wen Ning has to grow up watching Wen Qing shoulder the weight of leading the branch clan and bearing Wen Ruohan's attention.

And there's nothing Wen Ning can do.

Fast-forward to Post-Sunshot Campaign, Wen Ning and Wen Qing are separated. Can you image the fear that Wen Ning lived in for his sister's life? She was Wen Ruohan's doctor. Because of Wen Qing's hands he lived long enough to cull the lives of thousands for his own greed.

He's in a labour camp, surrounded by the most vulnerable members of his clan, watching as dozens are snuffed out for senseless cruelty in the name of 'justice'.

He suffers under that same cruelty, but knowing the virtuous and selfless nature of Wen Ning his spirit was definitely more devastated by the suffering of his family and the unknown fate of his sister.

Repeatedly beaten and abused, Wen Ning spends heaven knows how long there, watching his family dwindle down from hundreds to dozens.

And finally, he joins them. He died for nothing. He died not knowing if Wen Qing was even alive.

That's not even bringing up watching Wei Wuxian sacrifice so much for you, your family.

Just think about how that kind of experience would eternally and deeply wound someone as kind as Wen Ning.

And finally, after fighting and living finally all your family is slaughtered. Down to the last child. Wen Qing is burned to ashes.

I don't think I'll be able to cover his existence as a sentient fierce corpse, but think for yourself, the blessing, the curse that is such a 'life'.

The blessing of being able to live a few more years with your family, yet the curse of being unable to join them in death.

And while he might have trusted Wei Wuxian with control of his body, there is always the possibility someone like Xue Yang could come and force him into thrall.

Yes, the tragedy of Wen Ning.

[incandescentlysomething]

Lady of the Ashes: Chapter 10

House of the Dragon Season 1

Aemond x TargaryenOC

Chapter Word Count: 5508

She was his everything… For her…he would do anything.

From the moment of her birth, Aemond Targaryen swore himself to the protection of his niece Aelinor Velaryon. As the two grew up inseparable, they find themselves entangled in the Dance of Dragons, battling to stay together even as their families try to pull them apart.

A/N: Started a new job this week so things have slowed down a bit! Only three chapters left!! Thanks for reading! Cross posted on A03

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist A03

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 P.1 P.2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

When morning came, Aelinor watched as her family packed their things, the Princess’ chambers emptying as quickly as they had arrived.

“You should be coming with us,” Luc muttered under his breath.

Aelinor looked up, finding him standing over her with a solemn look on his face. As everyone else packed, she had dressed in a plain scarlet day gown and was reclining on the chaise sipping a cup of tea. Maids and pages hurried back and forth, carrying away chests of belongings, but none of them belonged to her.

“You keep saying that,” She said finally. “But it won’t make any difference.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t true,” he sighed. “This is wrong.”

“It is what it is.” She offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Now, go gather your things. Don’t leave it for someone else to do.”

He obliged, leaving her to her solitude once again.

Aelinor could not remember another time in her life when she had felt so conflicted. Only yesterday she had been approaching genuine delight over the news of her betrothal, and yet that dinner had ruined it. It had forced her to realize that what everyone had been telling her since their arrival was the truth. Aemond was not the same person that she had known before. He was capable of malice, of cruelty, and he had directed that hatred at her brothers. It was not in her nature to hold a grudge, and yet she did not see how she could forgive this.

Jace emerged into the parlor, wearing his riding clothes with his cloak hanging from his arm. Aelinor frowned when she saw how wilted he looked. Her big, annoying brother looked…beaten. And she did not want that.

“Jace,” She said softly. “How did you sleep?”

He didn’t reply, and when his eyes passed over her she thought she saw something like mourning in his gaze.

“Talk to me,” She whispered. “Please?”

With a heavy sigh, he walked over and sat on the arm of her chaise. “What do you want me to say, Aelinor?”

“Whatever it is you feel you need to.” She placed a hand on his arm.

Jace stared down at her hand. “Very well. Then I must apologize for failing you in this. I know I have been a frightful brother, and I am ashamed for how I have disappointed you.”

“You have not disappointed me,” Aelinor promised. “If you are referring to the brawl at dinner, I can assure you that I realize that was not your doing. I do not blame you at all.”

“You should,” He mumbled.

“Why?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “If you do not explain, I cannot hope to understand, Jace. And we haven’t much time.”

The reminder of their dwindling time together seemed to be encouragement enough. 

“You may mock me for wishing to protect you —”

“I don’t.”

“You do, often.” He said that without resentment. “But it is my duty. And it is a duty that I have often failed at. But I cannot help but feel that this arrangement, that my leaving you here, is too deep a failure to bear.”

“Jace, it is not your doing,” Aelinor said. “And it isn’t….it does not have to be the end of the world. I know you and Aemond have your differences, but he has always been good to me, always . I have faith that these….these familial differences will fade with time. I must have faith.”

Someday, and she hoped it was not someday soon, her mother would come into her throne.  And when she did, the world would be set to rights and the Queen and Rhaenyra would have to set aside their differences. Aemond and Aelinor would be married by then, maybe even…maybe have children of their own, and their families would be brought together by it. Viserys’ dream would be fulfilled, and all would be well. 

A dim part of Aelinor realized that holding onto that hope was the only thing keeping her together.

“But if he were…if he were cruel to you,” Jace continued. “It would be our fault, you see. Because no one hates you, but he does hate us. His mother hates us almost as much as she hates our own mother. They all despise Prince Daemon and he’s your—” 

Aelinor saw how he bit his tongue before he continued.

“He’s my what?” She whispered.

“We know, Aelinor,” Jace gave her a small smile. “Luc and I, we’ve known for a while. And we do not hold it against you.”

Aelinor looked down, her throat welling up as she fought to contain her emotions. “I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“We’re family,” Jace said. “Some secrets can be left unsaid.”

She squeezed his arm gratefully.

“My point is,” Jace sighed. “You are not going to be Aelinor to these people, once we are gone. You will be a hostage. Whether you realize it, whether Aemond realizes it, you will be. Which means that once again, I have failed you.”

It must have been a heavy burden to bear, she suddenly realized. Her brother had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was a future king, battling claims of illegitimacy from all sides, and doing everything in his power to keep their family together. She wondered then if perhaps she had made things difficult for him all these years, by constantly pulling away. If Jace already saw the divide between their families, then it must have seemed like she was slipping out of reach. It must now seem that she was being torn away from them.

“Jace,” She said quietly, leaning close so that no passing servants would hear them. “I have loathed you, and hated you, and wished that I could smother you with a pillow. But you have never failed me, and I have never, never, not loved you. Because you are my brother, and our blood is that of the dragon, and it runs thick.”

She saw water welling in his eyes, and he pulled her into his chest.

“What is this? Have I been left out of a moment?” Luc was back, wearing his own riding clothes.

“I’ve just been declared the favorite brother,” Jace teased.

“He’s lying,” Aelinor promised. “You hold that titled uncontested.”

“Good,” Luc stepped forward. “But, we must be going. We must get to the Dragonpit and it will be slow going through the city.”

Aelinor felt overwhelmed with sadness as she watched Jace stand and button his cloak. With a sigh she stood, crossing the room to Luc and pulling him into her arms. “Fly safe, little brother.

“Of course, Lina,” He laughed. “As long as I’m faster than Jace.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling away slightly as he squeezed her around the waist.

“You’ll be alright, won’t you?” He whispered.

“I will,” She promised. “I’ll have Darrax, after all. And when I see you next, he might be as big as Vhagar.”

“It won’t be that long,” Luc said insistently.

“That’s true,” Jace sniped. “If nothing else, we’ll see you for the wedding.”

“Your invitation may go missing,” Aelinor shook her head at him.

She was close to tears, so she gave each boy another hug before shooing them out the door. She would see them again soon, and there was no reason to be so undignified about this entire thing.

“Aelinor,” She turned, finding her father standing with his hands behind his back.

“Prince Daemon,” She bobbed her head.

He stepped forward slowly, his eyes catching on the red rimming her eyes. “I will not lecture you, nor do I expect you to take any advice from me.”

He was correct. “But?”

“But…” He reached out until his fingers brushed her shoulder. “Remember who you are. Because this place….it will try to tame you.”

“And how do you know that?” She asked.

“Because it failed to tame me.”

In true Daemon fashion, he let those be his parting words, striding from the room with two stewards hurrying after him. Aelinor almost wished he’d said more. She knew so little of her father, and practically all of it had been told to her by others.  But getting to know him would mean accepting who he was, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

Her mother emerged from the bedroom, little Viserys on her hip. A maid hurried by carrying a chest, and thus the chambers were emptied. She came to stand beside her daughter, both lingering in silence for a long moment.

“Are you sure you wish to stay in these rooms?” Rhaenyra asked. “It will seem very empty with just you.”

Aelinor shrugged. “It feels as close to home as I’m likely to get.”

Her mother closed her eyes tightly, taking a deep breath. “Aelinor, if you do not wish to stay here, say it. You can come with us.”

“What, and disobey the wishes of the King?” Aelinor scoffed. “Can you imagine the scandal?”

“You are my daughter,” Rhaenyra said, her tone stubborn. “And I will not have your life dictated to you. If you do not want to be here, if you do not wish to marry Aemond, you will not. I swear it.”

She knew that her mother meant it. And it was for precisely that reason that she knew she had to stay. With tensions as they were, she had to do her part to alleviate the animosity between the two families. Make them remember that they were one family.

“I will stay,” She answered. “Though I will admit, my feelings are not as certain as they were before last night.”

“Yes,” Rhaenyra sighed. “That was….that dinner did not go how I had hoped.”

“Parts of it were good,” Aelinor offered. “Or at least, I thought so.”

“Yes,” Rhaenyra studied her for a minute. The baby gurgled in her arms. “Aelinor, I know you want to think that Aemond is good, that he is the same boy you loved as a girl. But he is not.”

“I know that,” Aelinor admitted.

“And I do not think he is….I doubt he is the monster people make him out to be,” Rhaenyra admitted. “He was always sweet when he was young, and I do not doubt, nor have I ever doubted that he cares for you.”

“But?” Why could neither of her parents just say what they wanted to say?”

“The world is not up to him,” Rhaenyra said sadly. “It is not up to any of us. And I fear that even his best intentions may not be enough to protect you.”

Aelinor saw genuine fear shining her mother’s eyes, and once again felt emotion well up in her throat. “I can look after myself, Mother.”

“I know,” Rhaenyra gave her a small smile. “You are my daughter, after all. Which is why I have faith.”

Biting her lip, Aelinor wrapped her mother and her youngest brother in a hug. “I will see you soon?”

“As soon as I am able to return on dragonback,” Her mother promised.

“Perhaps with a new little brother or little sister?” Aelinor patted her mother’s stomach, prompting a snort of laughter. 

“You children are all impossibly impatient,” Rhaenyra chuckled. “I will not be rushed.”

“No, of course not,” Aelinor laughed. “But yet I must remind you that your ship is waiting.”

“Yes, it is.” Rhaenyra’s smile dampened slightly. “I love you, Sweet girl. Be well.”

“Be well, Mother.” Aelinor squeezed her hand one last time, before she was left alone.

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

She sat in the window until she saw her mother’s ship sail from the harbor and disappear from view. Once they were well and truly gone, she finally allowed herself to cry. She knew she was being ridiculous, that she would see her family again soon, and that many women her age had long since left their childhood homes behind. 

But that didn’t make it any easier.

Already she saw some wisdom behind her mother’s words. These chambers did remind her of her family. While that would likely be a comfort in the coming weeks, it was agony now. With a quick word to her maid, she left the rooms, heading toward the palace gardens.

The halls were still quiet, with many of the lords and ladies having left already following the ball. Soon it would trickle down just to the permanent residents of the Keep, and Aelinor was looking forward to being surrounded by only familiar faces.

But then, the thought of being alone in this castle, unable to put a crowd between herself and Aemond….it sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine.

In her entire life, she had never once dreaded seeing Aemond. The opposite, in fact, when she had spent the majority of her life either with him or missing him. And she did miss him, which was absurd because they had seen each other yesterday. But that dinner…the things he had said…she felt as though he had driven a wedge between them.

And honestly…. fuck him . Why did he have to go and ruin something that could have been so wonderful? They were supposed to be celebrating their betrothal, she was supposed to be beaming with joy, and instead she was filled with worry and dread. 

The cool breeze of the gardens was a refreshing change from the stone halls, and she picked a path and started to stroll through. It was still too early for the flowers to be in full bloom, but the greenery and topiaries were lush and plentiful. It was a dramatic change from Dragonstone, which sported little more than grass and shrubs. No one else seemed to be out this early in the morning, so Aelinor took her time, letting her feet drag on the ground. Perhaps later she might be able to sneak away and take Darrax for a short flight. That always improved her moods.

“Bit early for a walk, isn’t it?” 

A figure stepped into her path, the man leaning heavily on his cane as he dipped his head. Aelinor stopped in her tracks, managing to keep a grimace off her face. It was the unnerving man from the ball. She had hoped that he would leave with the guests, but he was here in the royal gardens, which suggested that he was a permanent resident. 

“Your family is…all gone?” He tilted his head.

Aelinor steadied herself, straightening her shoulders. “The Princess Rhaenyra and the rest of my siblings did indeed leave this morning.”

“And yet, you’re still here?”

She frowned. “What is your name, Ser? I don’t believe we have been properly introduced.”

“Lord Larys!” 

Gods, Aemond’s voice made her want to flee, propriety be damned. She practically felt a shadow fall over her as he loomed behind her, and she closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. If she turned, he would be only inches away. She didn’t know what she could say to him, what she would do.

Which was why she didn’t turn.

Instead, she studied the man in front of her, his name alighting a tiny spark of familiarity in her mind. “Lord Larys Strong?”

“Indeed, Princess.” He dipped his head again, a greasy smile on his face. “I knew you, when you were very young.”

She could not recall ever speaking to him, but she supposed it was not impossible. After all, his father had been Hand of the King at the same time his elder brother was serving as guard to Princess Rhaenyra. This was her brothers’ uncle, though she could find no similarity between the swarmy man in front of her and the gallant figure she remembered Ser Harwin to be.

“It is…nice to see you again.” She offered, trying to keep her reluctance out of her voice.

Lord Larys nodded again. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you, Princess. As it is, I am needed elsewhere.”

Aelinor suspected that he had nothing better to do than skulk through the gardens, but that his hurried departure was spurred on by the Prince looming behind her. She turned and watched Lord Larys limp away, until he had disappeared from view and she had no choice but to face Aemond.

He stepped back when she turned, putting a much needed distance between them. The first thing she noticed was that he looked exhausted. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his face was pale and somber. His hair hung loose about his head, and she realized that the unbuttoned tunic he wore was the same that he had been wearing at dinner.

An immature part of her felt some satisfaction at his appearance. He deserved to lose sleep over what he had done. He had hurt her brothers, caused outrage and scandal at a family gathering, and most importantly, he had hurt her .

But that spite was quickly overshadowed by concern. “You do not look well.”

“Sleep did not find me,” He clasped his hands behind his back. 

“It’s still early,” She gestured to the empty garden. “You could still be abed.”

He shook his head. “I needed to find you.”

It seemed that they were doomed to repeat themselves. Aemond would do something, there would be a misunderstanding, and then they would talk and she would be open and forgiving. Even now, she felt the urge to question him, to demand that he rationalize why he had said what he said.

But she would not give in. Not this time. “Why did you need to find me?”

“You know why.” He implored.

“No,” Aelinor started walking, leaving him to follow behind her. “No, I do not. Enlighten me.”

He stayed a few steps behind her, within earshot and yet too far for her to catch a glimpse out of the corner of her eye. “About dinner.”

Aelinor shook her head. “I do not care for subtleties, Aemond. If you want to talk, then talk. I will not help you along.”

There was a long silence. “I suppose that is fair.”

It was more than fair, and they both knew it. Aelinor turned a corner, heading to the balcony that overlooked the city. 

“You are angry with me.” Aemond said finally.

She scoffed. “Of course I am! You took what should have been a happy occasion and used it to ridicule my family. Am I supposed to be pleased?”

She bypassed the small garden table and chairs and walked to the railing, leaning over the stone to peer down at King’s Landing. If the Keep was having a slow morning, the city proper was positively bustling. Smoke rose from chimneys and even from here she could see vendors readying their carts to be pushed to market. It all seemed a world away.

Aemond stopped beside her, and when she looked up she found his gaze trained on her. 

“Why did you do it?” She whispered.

“I…I don’t know.” He looked down.

She frowned. “I don’t believe you. Give me a reason. Help me to understand. Because I refuse to build a marriage on uncertainties.”

Reminding him of their betrothal seemed to spur something in him, and he swallowed. “Aren’t you angry at them?”

“At who?” 

“Your brothers. Well, Jacaerys and Lucerys, I have no grudge against the little ones.” 

“Why on earth would I be angry at them?” She asked. “You started that fight. Not them.”

He was silent for a long time, so long that she wondered if he ever intended on answering her. 

“Do you not remember how they burned you? How they scarred me? How they taunted me with a pig all my life until I claimed Vhagar? How have you forgotten all that?”

“I have forgotten nothing!” She exclaimed. “But they were children, Aemond! We were all children. What is mine to forgive, I have forgiven. They have grown. We all have changed.”

“Your brother carved out my eye!” He shouted, gesturing to his face.

“Yes. Yes, he did,” Aelinor stepped away, crossing her arms. “And moments earlier you had prepared to bludgeon him with a stone. Perhaps I should be holding a grudge against you, for that.”

She could see that she had caught him by surprise.

“And furthermore,” She continued. “You know as well as I that, as cruel as those pranks were, Aegon was responsible for just as many as my brothers were. But we were all children .”

“Am I supposed to forgive them, is that it?” He demanded. 

“Yes!” She cried. “They are my brothers. I will not ask you to be friends with them, but if we are to marry, this fighting must cease. For your father, for the sake of our mothers, for ourselves! We cannot live with this anger, Aemond.”

She stepped forward, tilting her chin to look up at him. “I cannot live with it.”

His eye closed, and then slowly his fingers stretched out and grasped at the fabric of her sleeves. 

“You…” The words caught in his throat. “I do not think forgiveness is in my nature, not like it is for you.”

Aelinor leaned closer, her hands finding the sides of his tunic. At the first touch, his eye shot open, staring down at her with something between alarm and wonderment. 

“I will not ask you to forgive, then.” She whispered. “I can forgive for the both of us. But you must not let yourself be ruled by anger. It will destroy you.”

It will destroy us , she thought.

He nodded slowly. “I…I can try.For you.”

“That is all I ask,” She smiled. 

Aemond tentatively smiled back.

Aelinor felt some of her loneliness dissipate. “I did not like being angry at you,” she said quietly, stretching her arms up until they rested on his shoulders. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She thought she could feel his fingers tracing the small of her back.

She let out a laugh. “How ridiculous we are! We can bear nine years apart, but not one evening?”

“I could not bear it,” Aemond said seriously, his palm spreading on her back. “Not for those years, nor one evening. It if were up to me we would never be parted again.”

It was a childish, juvenile sentiment, the type of softness that others would scoff to hear. But for Aelinor, it was just the Aemond she knew and loved. 

“We never have to be,” She whispered. “We’re betrothed, after all.”

Aemond nodded slowly. “And you…you’re sure that this is what you want?”

She understood his hesitation. Whatever kindness had driven her grandfather to betrothe them, their marriage would be an intensely political one. Both of them would serve as hostages to ensure the cooperation of their families, both of them would be constantly drawn into the game as pawns to wield against the other. There was every reason to fear what this might do to them, to their families.

But there was no one in the Seven Kingdoms, nor anywhere else in the world, that Aelinor would ever want to marry as much as she wanted Aemond. He had been the most constant figure through her entire life, and she knew that she could trust him to stand at her side.

“Aemond,” She promised. “I have never wanted anything more.”

And then, in a moment of bravery or boldness, Aelinor stood on her toes and pressed her lips to Aemond’s.

For a split second she wondered if she had made a horrible mistake. His entire body stiffened, and he did not react or move. Oh gods, she had humiliated herself. 

But suddenly Aemond had both arms around her waist, pulling her into his body and kissing her back with a passion that left her lightheaded.

Aelinor had never been one to fantasize about kissing boys. It had never interested her, though perhaps that was because her most likely marriage prospect had been her older brother. But this…she could understand now why the heroines in all of her story books were always dreaming of kissing princes. 

Her head fell back, her mouth parting as Aemond’s lips moved over hers. One of her hands twisted in his hair, pulling slightly when she felt his tongue brush her lip. A tiny, embarrassing sound escaped her mouth, but it only seemed to spur Aemond on. He pushed forward until her hips were against the railing, his arms a cage from which she never wanted to escape.

“Aemond.” She whispered.

“Lina.” He replied, kissing her again. She felt one of his hands traveling to her hip, the other rising to cup her cheek. His palms were rough, callused from years of training and dragon riding, but she thought that she had never felt anything so wonderful.

Voices broke through, carrying on the wind from the garden. There was someone coming, someone who had taken their own morning stroll and likely did not expect to find the Prince and Princess locked in an embrace. They had to part before they were seen.

“There’s someone coming,” Aelinor pulled away slightly, just enough to catch her breath.

Aemond chased her, leaning down until his nose pressed against her forehead. “So?”

“So…what if we’re seen? What would your mother say? What would your brother say?”

“Fuck my brother.” Aemond grinned. “And fuck anyone else. We’re betrothed, remember?”

A smile pulled at her lips, and he dipped to kiss the corner of her mouth. “I might remember.”

“And as your betrothed it is my right — no, it is my duty, to kiss my future wife as often as she likes. And anyone who says otherwise can be a feast for Vhagar and Darrax.” 

Aelinor felt her cheeks heat. His future wife . Gods, that sounded perfect.

“How very ruthless of you,” She laughed.

“For you, anything.” He beamed, appearing lighter than she had ever seen him.

Ignoring that they were likely going to have visitors in the next few minutes, Aelinor tightened her arms around him and hugged him closely. “Thank you, Aemond.”

“You never need to thank me,” He said into her hair. “Not ever.”

“But I am grateful nonetheless.” She smiled. “Now, we really should be going before we are caught.”

Aemond relented and stepped away, but surprised her when he reached for her injured hand and clasped it in his own. When they stepped out from the secluded balcony onto the main path, they nearly ran right into Lord Beesbury and his wife. 

“My Prince!” Beesbury exclaimed. “And Princess Aelinor! What a fine morning, isn’t it?” His gaze drifted to their joined hands, and then back to the flushed expressions on their faces. “Shall I…go another way?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Aemond said, his voice hardening.

Aelinor placed hand on his arm, before offering Beesbury her most sympathetic smile. “We should hate to interrupt your walk, My Lord. We were just leaving.”

She bobbed a quick curtsy, practically forcing Aemond to bow as well, and then they excused themselves. 

“You’re very…prickly.” Aelinor noted. “Lord Beesbury is kind.”

“He interrupted us.” Aemond grumbled.

“Yes, and he was kind about it.” Aelinor said. “Now, let us go. The gardens always fill quickly.” There was little else to do in the capital, at least not for the upstanding members of court, and the weather was fair on this day. 

“How did you intend to spend your day?” Aemond asked.

Aelinor shrugged. “I believe my intention was to spend it moping. If you remember, my family is gone and I was angry at you.”

He frowned. “I thought we—”

“I’m only jesting, Aemond.” She squeezed his hand. “And I thought I may take Darrax for a ride. He has not been out since we arrived, and does not enjoy being confined.”

Aemond opened his mouth to speak, before quickly looking away.

She nudged him. “What was that?”

“Nevermind.”

“No, you must tell me!” She laughed, tugging on his arm. 

He chuckled, pretending to sag into her weight. “Very well. I was going to suggest that I could take Vhagar as well and we could go together. If that would please you.”

Already a grin was spreading across Aelinor’s face. “Now you’re the one being ridiculous. Let us hurry, I shall change into my riding clothes and meet you in the courtyard in an hour. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t be,” He promised, laughing as she picked up her skirts and hurried away.

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

This has been the best day of Aelinor’s life. She was sure that no day would ever be able to compare to the elation of soaring through the clouds on Darrax, Aemond and Vhagar flying alongside her. Both Darrax and Vhagar had behaved themselves, and Darrax had even playfully flown circles around the older dragon. If that was a sign of things to come, then it was a good sign.

But not the sun had set, and Aelinor was exhausted. It was a good type of exhaustion, the kind that made her wish to sink into her bed and collapse into a sleep of wonderful dreams. Tomorrow they could do it all again, just as they could for the rest of their lives.

Aemond walked at her side, laughing as she brushed dust from her coat. Her riding clothes were ornate, more decorative than practical, but she had always loved them. The issue was, however, that she dreaded seeing the dust and dragon reek settle into the intricately embroidered scales along the black leather.

“Don’t laugh,” She protested, though she was smiling too. “I shall have to get these laundered.”

“Then we cannot go out again tomorrow?” Aemond asked, raising his eyebrows.

Aelinor rolled her eyes. “I am a Princess, Aemond. I have more than one set of riding clothes.”

“Shame,” He sighed dramatically. “I thought to take you down to the market. There are vendors who sell candied lemons and sugar-boiled cherries, but I suppose you will miss out.”

She gasped. “Aemond! We must go!”

They were arriving at her door, and Aelinor felt a twinge of disappointment at the realization that they must now part ways. 

“Then we shall go,” Aemond promised, dipping his head. “It would be an honor to escort you.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Aelinor said, coming to a stop before her chambers. She reached out and took both of his hands, her riding gloves intertwining between his fingers. “Thank you, Aemond. Today was perfect.”

“It is I who should be thanking you,” He said, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to her lips. It was chaste, so chaste that it probably would not even cause scandal if they were seen, and it left Aelinor wanting more. But Aemond was determined to be a gentleman, and so he stepped away and bowed deeply at the waist.

“My Princess,” He smiled as he rose.

Chuckling, she held out the sides of her riding jacket and bobbed a curtsy. “My Prince. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” He promised.

Aemond watched until she had shut the door behind her, and then she listened for a few moments longer until his footsteps finally moved away. 

With a girlish giggle, Aelinor spun in a circle. 

“Princess?” Her maid, Jayne, was standing in the corner of the parlor. She had one eyebrow raised, an amused smile pulling at her lips.

“Oh, Jeyne!” Aelinor exclaimed. “I have had the best day.”

“I can see that, Princess.” Jeyne laughed. “Shall I get you some dinner?”

“Oh, yes please!” Aelinor grinned. “Something light, that I can eat in the bath. I intend to go to bed early tonight, as I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“As you say, Princess.” Jeyne nodded.

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

Aemond returned to his rooms feeling like a new man. He knew his brother would mock him to hear it, but he could not help but feel as thought he had been swept into a dream. Aelinor was his . They had spent the day together, and he had basked in her beauty and perfection as he had always dreamed. 

They had kissed . He had held her in his arms and embraced her, and already he wished that he did not have to let go.

And he didn’t. Tomorrow, they would spend their day together again, as they would the next, and the next. For now, he allowed the worries of succession and the tensions between their families fall to the wayside.

He had Aelinor, after all, and so everything was perfect.

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

Aelinor reclined into a hot bath, feasting on meats and cheese until she was satisfied, and then allowed Jeyne to braid her hair before she fell into bed. Tomorrow Jeyne would move into these chambers as well, to serve as a chaperone and companion until proper alternatives could be provided. But for tonight, Aelinor simply wished her maid a good night before she closed the door behind her and returned to the servants corridors.

Then, Aelinor wrapped herself in her covers and fell into a comfortable sleep. It was the perfect end to the perfect day.

And then, sometime before the dawn, someone began to pound at her door

[lavenderskye29]

Hi I found your Page and I love plum princesses and MQ

I have a question

What would they do if they found out that there's queen was abused mentally and didn't have a good relationship with her family.

And al'so if one of her brothers was very voilnt to her

Like the notice that there queen not back yet but they smell blood and they run to there wife and see her with a broken leg after getting pushed down some stairs ( I just broken toes with my family most of them them cuz I came out as she/her trans and it wasn't pretty but I am doing ok I have my girlfriend to help me or my fiance as I should call her lol) but what would they do to them and how would they get the reader home safe. And how would they take care of her.

(First off, I am so sorry this has happened to you. You don't deserve that. I hope you're safe and away from your family. If ever in trouble please seek help, here is the link for the domestic violence hotline.)

Monkey Queen and Macaque would not let Peaches go after capturing her, so there would be no incidents during her time on the mountain... but in the village, when the ladies are posing as monkeys and they come for one of their weekly visits and they see their soon-to-be wife crying and quivering in her bedroll, is when something would happen.

They don't understand at first what happened so they rush over chattering worriedly, looking to inspect the pathetic lump that was Peaches curled up on the floor. Being warriors, the ladies knew what inflicted injuries looked like and the minute they saw her swollen, bruised face peeking out from under the thin sheet she called a blanket, they lost it. It took every ounce of self-restraint to remain in their disguises and to not burn the whole village down to ash. Macaque had to convince Wukong to wait so they could see who the real culprits were before dishing out a punishment. So they waited, curled up against a whimpering Peaches as time passed.

As evening approached, they didn't expect to hear the sound of stomps approaching Peach's room from within, and when they noticed their beaten love trying to curl up deeper into her covers and the quivering of her body start to increase violently, they knew they caught their culprit. As the thin sliding paper door slammed open, they could immediately tell it was one of Peaches family members by the shared features in their face... but whereas Peaches was nearly always smiling or laughing when her furry companions saw her, this person was only snarling at the room. Malice radiated from the person.

The monkeys bristled when the person shouted at Peaches to get up, but nothing compared the anger they felt when the family member approached with a heavy wicker broom and started whacking at the lump that was Peaches and at them. That was enough to send Wukong and Macaque in a vicious flurry of rage. They lept at the attacker, tearing the human limb from limb, and bathing in the blood-curtling screams that ripped from their throat. It didn't take long for the human to die, but the sounds of pain did bring the rest of the family to come rushing in. Wukong and Macaque wasted no time in continuing the slaughter, but not before making the head of the family beg for forgiveness.

By the time they were done, the house was covered in blood and torn bits of flesh. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of giggling coming from Macaque and Wukong. At least that's what they thought until another sound entered the fray... a quiet, sadder sound that clawed at the hearts of the demon warlords... Peaches' light sobbing.

She had been conscious for it all.

Macaque rushed back to Peaches whereas Wukong faltered a bit. Surely, Peaches would fear them now... Would hate them... this was going to take a lot of work to fix on their part. Wukong was going through scenario after scenario in her head as she slowly made her way back to Peaches room of how their little human would react to them. Imagine Wukong's surprise however when from the hallway, she sees Peaches practically clinging to Macaque for some sort of comfort in all the blood; the only spot of white in this ocean of red. The sight made Wukong pause. Suddenly everything came to light for her, and a wide, sharp-toothed grin split across her face.

After that day, Peaches would have no worries... and no use for anyone else but her knights in shining armor.

[thisisallthehattersfault]

Does that mean Nika kills Arlong? Or just damages him enough to put him in his place?

Divinity shines through Luffy’s skin. It turns his body gold, casting long shadows on the floor. Arlong’s face goes still with shock, and then, slowly, with fear. It’s almost gratifying to see that, even after all this time, people still recognize the face of God.

When Joyboy next speaks it is not through the mouth he has borrowed from Luffy, but from his own throat, echoing and trembling through the broken room they’re in.

“You are ashes now, but there was fire in you once. You chose to let that fire turn to despair, and in your despair you lashed out. You have caused grave harm to the undeserving, Arlong. But this is not all you are. It is not all you can be. You know you are more than this.”

Arlong trembles in every limb. He drags himself backwards, away from Joyboy on his shaking arms. “You’re not him,” he says, and he is begging. “You’re not him!”

“I am.”

“No! Fuck you, you’re not him!”

“Look at me, Arlong. Look at the face of your God.”

“No!”

“It's not too late to fix this. You can be forgiven.”

“I can’t forgive you!” The words are a scream that might have been a sob if Arlong were clinging less tightly to his rage. “How — how dare you. You’re not him! Fuck you, where were you? Where have you been? Where the fuck have you been?! Do you know what they’ve been doing to us?!”

Guilt, that old, worn coat, settles heavy on Joyboy’s shoulders. He says “I’m here now,” because that will have to be enough. “The dawn will rise, and you should be there to see it.” Arlong has backed himself against the wall by now, slumped with nowhere else to go. Joyboy has followed him, and now stands at Arlong’s feet. He lowers himself to one knee, and reaches out his hand. Says “You know you can build something better than this. It’s why you’re so damn frustrated, you know what you’re capable of. You turned that frustration on the wrong target but it’s not too late to change your aim.”

Slowly, Arlong drags his gaze away from Joyboy’s (Luffy’s) face to instead glare at his outstretched hand. He stares like he’s never seen fingers before. “You want me to repent?”

Joyboy says “Take my hand.”

“You — you — do you expect me to kneel? Should I pray to you?”

“No. Just take my hand.”

“I won’t!”

“Do not let your pride keep you from the one thing you truly want. Take my hand.”

“Stop it!”

“Take my hand!”

“Never!” Arlong, weakened and beaten as he is, lunges with his teeth bared.

Joyboy swallows disappointment, and accepts his answer.

—————

“Why did you ask him?” Luffy mutters petulantly. “You knew he was gonna say no.” He nudges Arlong’s corpse with his foot and ignores the sharp disapproval Joyboy sends him, because of course he does. Brat.

Joyboy thinks of justice, and rage, and wasted potential. “Sometimes,” he says, “It is the asking that matters, more than the answer.”

Luffy scowls darkly and kicks the corpse again. Kick, kick, kick. Joyboy longs for his own limbs, if only to scruff the misbehaving pup. (His sons—) “He hurt Nami. She was crying. I wouldn't forgive him even if he said he was sorry.”

Luffy’s anger is not yet the wrath of a God, but the seeds of it are there. Someday soon those seeds will grow into a rage that bleaches the sky and calls forth a red and bloody dawn. For now he is a child, disrespecting an enemy’s corpse. (Joyboy longs for his own limbs, if only to embrace the boy.)

“The forgiveness doesn’t really matter either, in the end.”

Kick, kick. Luffy glares sullenly at Arlong's body as though there are answers to be found in his ruined flesh. "That's stupid," he says.

"Yes," Joyboy agrees, softly. "It is."

[readingandwritingandreading]

Some Hearts ~ Part 5

My Blurb: I have returned! I am feeling much better and to make it up to you this one is the longest chapter I have ever written. I hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer:  Alas, I own nothing but my ideas. I do not give permission for my writing to be shared anywhere without my consent. 

Summary: Reacher never needed anyone, he was a lone wolf and preferred it that way. But when he finds his mate beaten and bruised one night, she and the rest of the 110th show Reacher the benefits of being in a pack. Fated Mates, Shifter AU

Pairing: Jack Reacher x OFC Morgan Stone

Warnings: There are some darker things in this fic. Morgan is a rape and abuse survivor. Nothing is explicitly detailed but be advised. Your media consumption is your responsibility. This is a fated mates, wolf shifter AU and will contain claming, biting, mating and other wolf pack related things. 

Tagging: @pioched | @ashes-writing | @titty-teetee2 | @may85 | @msripleybennet | @lemmons1998 | @tonadavis264-blog | @screechingdreamercollectorsblog

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Rock Hill Village, New York

The next few days followed the same pattern. Jack was already up and working on projects by the time I made my way down stairs. He joined me in the kitchen while I made breakfast and we talked while we ate. We cleaned up, drove into the village and usually ended the day at the pack house before returning home. It was…comfortable and safe. 

The third day I convinced him that I was feeling good enough to walk into town instead of him driving. That’s how I found myself staring at the covered windows of the building that sat between the school and road to Jack’s cabin. Dixon had come out of her cabin to discuss training some of the younger members when she saw us walking by and I gravitated towards the building. 

“It’s technically the pack library.” Lily O’Donnell’s voice sounded from my left and I jumped, hand immediately going to my chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“Oh, it’s ok. I was a little lost in my snooping.” I smiled and waved at Jack who had turned immediately at my sudden fear. “Why do you say technically?” I turned my attention back to Lilly who sent Jack a wave also.

“David & I inherited it when we started the school but between that and the kids we don’t have time to maintain or organize it and no one else in the pack has taken it on yet.” She shrugged. “Maybe someday.” Jack approached then, his hand finding the small of my back, sending the familiar wave of warmth through me.

“Reacher” she nodded to him. “Dixon recruiting you for training today?” 

He nodded, “Bobby’s mate went into labor this morning.” 

“I didn’t think she was going to make it much longer.” Lilly grinned. “I better get going. It was good to see you, Morgan.” 

“You as well.” I waved before turning to Jack, a question that had been bothering me bubbling to the surface. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Always.” he answered without hesitation, surveying the village square as we walked.

“I don’t want to overstep. I just…” I bit my lip, memories of my curiosity getting me in trouble when I was younger flooding through me. 

“Morgan,” he stopped, turning me to face him. “You can ask me anything and I will always answer you honestly.”

“Do you have a specific job? I noticed almost everyone else does.” I blurted out before I lost my nerve. 

“This is the longest I've ever stayed on the pack lands since I left the military.” He pulled me to a bench by the statue of the Moon Goddess. "After we left the military, most of the 110th came here and started the pack but I couldn’t help but wander after a lifetime of being an army brat. I was thirty-six years old, a citizen of a country I had barely seen, and there were places to go, and there were things to do. There were cities, and there was countryside. There were mountains, and there were valleys. There were rivers. There were museums, and music, and motels, and clubs, and diners, and bars, and buses. There were battlefields and birthplaces, and legends, and roads. There was company if I wanted it, and there was solitude if I didn’t. Then three weeks ago I found myself getting off the bus on the highway five miles from here. Neagley runs a tight ship, everyone earns their place so I stepped in whenever they needed someone. Sometimes training, mostly security. I was on duty two weeks later when you set off one of the south sensors.”

I stared at him in shock as his words sunk in. The comments about his cabin, the lack of personal items and other little moments all came crashing together. “You’re not going to stay?” The words came out as a coldness wrapped its way around my heart and I became aware of how attached I had already become to the friendly little village. 

“I told you I would be honest,” he heaved out a sigh, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know, I never planned on finding you. I couldn’t imagine I had a fated mate out there. It was a fairytale that some of my friends had but wasn’t in the cards for me. I’m still getting my head around the fact that you are here.” I forced the threatening tears down when he gently used my chin to force me to look at him. “I won’t make a decision without you. We’re a team now.” 

I searched his face before nodding, bolstered by the sincerity in his words and gaze. “It’s nice to be a teammate and not just a pawn for once. Thank you Jack.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek, smiling inwardly at the hint of shock in his expression when I pulled away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A lingering warmth remained in the spot Morgan’s lips had touched him, even a couple hours after it happened and he sparred with the trainees. Dixon was a good trainer and all of her students excelled in learning how to use their wolves in a fight should the need arise. The focus today, however, was fighting without their wolf, something that Morgan seemed to be watching closely. Reacher had offered to take her somewhere she would be comfortable while he helped Dixon but after their talk she seemed to need the closeness, assuring him she wanted to watch.  

He could see her on the other side of the training area, watching Dixon show another smaller female how to use her speed against a bigger opponent. He walked over to her as the class wound down, an idea forming in his head. She had no power in her old life. He had seen the way it soothed her that he considered her his equal. Roscoe had no leads on why she couldn't shift and without her wolf she was at huge disadvantage against other shifters.

“Do you want to learn?” Reacher asked, stretching his hand towards her. She hesitated for a minute before determination crossed over her face and she nodded, grabbing his hand and letting him lead her away from the other students. “You heard Dixon telling them about speed?”

She nodded, stiffening slightly as he positioned her body. “Make yourself a smaller target and you're harder to hit.”

“And there’s no shame in running if you can.” he added, circling around to face her. “I’m going to try and grab you, try and avoid me.” Morgan nodded, taking a deep breath and watching him carefully. He waited a few seconds before pouncing towards her, catching her easily when she darted to the right. “You gave yourself away. You turned right and then hesitated. Once you make a decision, act, don’t hesitate.” 

They practiced for another couple hours before he noticed her wincing and rubbing at the cast on her arm. He was impressed with her determination. She was a quick learner and had mostly overcome the hesitation that gave her away managing to avoid him two times. “We better call it for today. Roscoe will have my hide if you hurt your arm more.” 

Morgan chuckled before sinking to the grass. “Thank you for teaching me. My father never would have allowed me to learn with my…handicap. He just surrounded me with bodyguards or kept me locked away in the house.”

“Everyone should know how to defend themselves. I will protect you until my last breath, but you need to know how to at least get away if someone attacks you.” Reacher sat down on the grass beside her looking towards the river that she had fallen into. 

She looked in that direction as well and smiled when she saw two wolves splashing out of the water, an black and tan one chasing a smaller brown one. The smaller one nipped playfully at the bigger one's snout before turning and running into the tree line at top speed. The bigger one howled and then followed. “Who was that?” Morgan laughed, following their path as they disappeared. 

“Sanchez & Melina. Their bonding ceremony is next week.” Reacher replied. 

“Can I see your wolf?” Reacher looked over to find Morgan staring at him apprehensively. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I held my breath as Jack studied my face and then nodded slightly. His shift was smooth and well practiced. One second I was sitting next to a large man and the next I was sitting next to a large wolf. I reached out and ran my hand through the blue gray fur of his chest. In human form Jack towered over me and his wolf did as well. In our sitting positions my head came to his shoulder. Standing I let my hand drift to the fur around his ears pulling back when he nuzzled my hand with his snout. “I’m sorry, I guess I should have asked before just petting you.” 

Wolf Jack moved into a standing position and made a growling sound before nudging my hand again until it rested on top of his head. When I scratched his tail began to wag and I giggled. “I feel like I’ve seen this wolf before.” Wolf Jack cocked his head as I thought, moving to stroke his neck and back. 

“Is Reacher wagging his tail?” An astonished shout came from several feet away and I squeaked in surprise when I found myself firmly behind Jack as he growled in the direction of the voice. Oscar Finlay appeared a moment later. “Down boy, I was just coming to let you know food’s almost ready at the pack house.” 

Jack suddenly shifted, as fluidly as before, blocking my view of Finlay. Peeking my head around him I waved. “What’s happening at the pack house?”

“Our monthly pack meeting, everyone eats there and we go over anything we need to.” Finlay filled in. “And we are definitely going to need to go over Reacher’s tail wagging.” He chuckled when Jack shot him a glare. 

I patted Jack’s arm before sliding it down to intertwine my hand with his. “Am I allowed to go? I’ve never gotten to be involved in pack activities.” 

I asked the question to Finlay but Reacher squeezed my hand and responded. “If you want to go, you can.” 

Finlay nodded, grinning at our intertwined hands. “I’ll see you there.”

Jack led us into the pack house half an hour later, winding us through the crowd and to a couple empty chairs at one of the trestle tables that had been setup in rows throughout the room. “Stay here, I'll grab some food.”

Charlie quickly joined me, dropping into an empty chair and greeting me with a hug. “Paul will be here in a minute, he’s dropping the girls off upstairs. They always have a movie set up for the kids up there while the adults handle business. I heard you did some training with Reacher today. You didn’t hurt your arm did you?” 

“He’s trying to teach me to be able to escape. I only managed to out maneuver him twice in three hours of practice. He made us stop when my arm started aching.” I smiled. 

“Twice is pretty good. Reacher is exceptionally trained, maybe more so than Alpha Neagley. Plus you’re his mate. He’s naturally more attuned to you.” she shrugged. 

I nodded, “I hadn’t thought of that.” 

Paul joined us then, placing their plates on the table.  “I couldn’t tell if Reacher was getting plates for both of you or just him, but I’m glad to be in front of him in line. I don’t know how he stays in that kind of shape but eats like that.”

“Genetics.” Jack’s voice sounded from behind me before four towering plates of food appeared in front of our seats. He placed an empty one in front of me before continuing. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want so take the first pick and I can eat whatever’s left.”

Neagley appeared at the front of the room where a podium was set up. The crowd quieted immediately, everyone found their seats and I watched in amazement at the respect the pack had for their leader. Reacher nudged me as it continued, pointedly looking at the pile of food in front of us. Rolling my eyes I grabbed some chicken and a few other items before picking up my fork and digging in. 

Near the end of the meeting Neagley announced Sanchez and Melina’s ceremony and the room came alive with applause and whistles while Sanchez pumped his arm in the air and Melina blushed at his side.

Turning to Charlie I got her attention before asking, “If I order a dress for the ceremony would it get here in time? I just realized I don’t have anything and I hate to keep hogging your wardrobe.” 

“We’re going into Utica in a couple days, why don’t you come with us?” Charlie offered. “I have to pick up our medicine shipment. Angela, Franz’s mate, is also coming. She has to pick up some supplies for the inn.” 

“That would be great.” I turned to Jack who was putting the last piece of chicken from my plate in his mouth. “What do you think?”

“You do need some more clothes and a coat,” he shrugged. 

“It’s settled then!” Charlie waved down Dixon who joined them. “Morgan is going to join us on our trip to Utica. She needs some more clothes.” 

“I hope that’s ok.” I offered. “I’m living out of Charlie’s wardrobe at the moment.” 

“Not a problem at all little wolf, it will be a girls trip.” Neagley planted herself on the table beside Dixon. 

“Wait, girls trip. I’m going with Morgan.” Jack looked between the women.

“I don’t think so big guy, I need you to take over training for Dixon while we’re gone.” Neagley put her hand up when he went to argue.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Reacher’s Cabin, Rock Hill Village, New York

Neagley gave him a look he knew from their time in the service. One that said she wasn’t discussing the topic anymore, he was not going on this trip. “She will be with Dixon and me the whole time. You know she’s safe with us. We have Charlie if her arm acts up.”

“Nothing can happen to her, Neagley.” It was more of a plea than an agreement but she still nodded. They turned as Morgan came down the steps to meet them at the SUV. “Stay with Dixon or Neagley,” he reached into his pocket and handed her his card. “Get whatever clothes or other stuff you need. And a coat, it’s going to get colder.” 

Morgan put her hand up to stop him, “I have enough of my own to get a dress and a couple things I need. I’m not spending any more of your money.”

Before he could reply Neagley stepped in and swiped the card from his hand. “I have no problem spending more of your money. Thanks for lunch. Come on little wolf.” 

Jack gently grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him. “Morgan, get what you need. He kissed her forehead before adding, “Stay with the group. Please, mon reve.”

Morgan nodded, giving him a quick hug before hurrying into the backseat beside Angela. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Utica, New York

“Are you sure this is ok for the ceremony?” I asked, twirling in the mirror. 

Angela turned from where she was handing Dixon a different top to try on. “You look lovely! Have you ever been to a bonding ceremony?”

“Angela.” Charlie snapped and Neagley shook her head but I put my hand up.

“It’s ok. I have only been to my own and I didn’t get much of a say in it.” I shrugged. “I wasn’t allowed to attend many events.” 

“I’m sorry Morgan, I didn’t think before I spoke.” Angela was ringing her hands together. “When you and Reacher have one you will be able to choose whatever you want.” 

A hush fell over the group as they all looked at me and my heart plummeted. “Oh, um. I don’t know…we’ve never really talked about it…and I…I can’t shift. Excuse me, I should change.” Hurrying back into the dressing room I pulled the dress off and hung it over the door. “Get it together Morgan” I whispered to myself, fighting to keep the tears that had sprung to my eyes from falling. I hadn’t considered that a bonding ceremony would be expected. Did Jack want one? I was a defective wolf. Did I want to go through that again? Knowing how my one to KJ had gone. It had been a miserable few hours in a dress that was too tight and not in my style at all. And then that night…I shuddered, biting my lip hard and covering my mouth to mask the sob that tried to escape. 

By the time I pulled myself together and left the changing room the other women had made their purchases and were waiting by the register. “Did one of you grab the dress off the door? I think i’ll just get that today.” 

“Already taken care of, went ahead and got you a few more things also.” Dixon held up four large bags.

“Big guy wanted us to make sure you were taken care of since we wouldn’t let him be here. That was the only way we were leaving the village without him tailing us and I still double checked on the way here.” Neagley shrugged, flashing Jack’s credit card. 

Charlie stopped me from replying with a hard look. “Morgan, Reacher has plenty of money. He hardly buys anything with his pension and Paul started making investments for him after an incident a few years back.”

“He also cares about you.” Angela smiled shyly. “My comment was foolish before. I wasn’t thinking. But you have to know how much he cares for you. Reacher never lets people in but I see, we all see the way he looks at you.” 

I wiped a tear that slipped out giving the group a watery smile. “I’m really glad I stumbled into this village. You are all wonderful.” I pulled Jack’s card out of Neagley’s hand. “Who’s ready for lunch?” 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Margrave, Northern Georgia

‘Alpha, there’s something you both need to see.” The Kliner packs new head of security appeared in the doorway with an envelope and a tablet. Kliner waved him in, sitting in the big chair behind his desk, leaving KJ to stand beside him. He placed the envelope on the desk and opened it revealing several pictures of Morgan. 

“Where was this and how long ago?” KJ grabbed a photo, studying it closely. 

“Face recognition flagged it ten minutes ago in Utica, New York sir.” the guard answered, reading off the tablet. 

KJ cursed, slamming the photo back onto the desk. “How the fuck did she get to Utica, load up the cars, we leave in one hour.” 

“Wait.” Kliner said calmly but everyone in the room froze. “Who is she with?” He looked over the photos at the other women sitting at the restaurant. 

“We’re running facial recognition on them now Alpha.” he glanced between Alpha and son. 

“We don’t make a move until we know what we’re going into.” He put his hand up to stop KJ’s outburst. “Your stupid decisions regarding Morgan Stone are what got us into this situation.” He turned back to the guard. “Notify her father we have a lead and I want to know the minute we find out who is sheltering her. 

*Italicized section is a direct copy from The Affair by Lee Child

[adoriels-tears-if]

I don't understand the hate as we haven't really finished act one yet so many characters are either still being introduced or continuing to be fleshed out. I personally enjoy the multifaceted of the mc's mother (sorry couldn't remember her name) I love how she loves mc very much but has conflicting feelings of also wanting Ash but while knowing because of his absence in mc's life many mcs (readers) might not want him to be in their lives breaking the idea of nuclear family she wanted/craved to have. (Ie: she wants Ash to be there because she loves him and wants them to become a whole united family that they were denied by society but might not get that dream if mc doesn't see him as their father. Not to say she forced them to be a family but more like she accepted that but felt disappointed and bad she forced her child into this situation.)

I like how she is a hypocrite now I know she is badly beaten when she returns home so maybe she at that time even after being healed somewhat she wouldn't have the strength to go back there to find Telio before mc is kidnapped. But it is interesting that she doesn't argue back when it's clearly stated so I think that silent admission she somewhat agrees with that statement, so I do wonder if she fully healed would she have gone? Or would do it only get another 'favor' out of the act. (Not to say she won't get another 'favor' since she is technically doing what asked for once mc and Telio get rescued.)

Tldr: this isn't the final product and while there are readers who have different opinions on how the story should go and how characters should act. As the author you have the final say and shouldn't put too much pressure on yourself to go in the direction where you're readers deem 'correct' unless they got good suggestions that you agree with or respectful criticism. At the end of the day it's your story and voice getting out there and I find miraculously brave thing to do so thank you for sharing something you care about.

Pss: what character you enjoy writing about the most and what character is one of your personal favorites? (Can be for any reason)

💙

[deepspacedukat]

From Never To Always

Welcome to the second installment of the Dark!Tales Halloween Series in collaboration with @bigblissandlove1!

This nearly 10k word oneshot is centered around a dark version of my Vulcan OC, Kollos. It's set in the Mirror Universe (but this isn't necessarily how I see the actual Mirror!Kollos behaving - it's complicated), so the usual warnings for mirror universe bigotry and violence apply. The Mirror Universe is a warning in itself, so do be aware and keep that in mind as the story progresses. This version of Kollos has had it rough. He's angry, he has killed, and he will do so again, but he's sexy, so it's fine...because fiction. 🤷‍♀️ Anyway, enjoy!

Cross-posted to AO3 here. Find the rest of the Halloween Dark!Tales Halloween Series on AO3 here.

~*~

Dark!Kollos (OC) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut adjacent and includes mature themes, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Implied interspecies sex, implied Human/Vulcan sex, sexual fantasizing, brief masturbation, hungry gazes, canon-typical violence, enemies to lovers, pining, mutual pining (even if Kollos doesn't realize it in any universe), angst, threats, Kollos denying his own feelings, mild bigotry, the mirror universe and all its horrors, agony booth is mentioned but not used, Kollos is a vengeful freedom fighter in this AU so take that how you will, mentions of blood, injuries, decapitation, all smut/implied smut is consensual.

~*~

Staring at the viewscreen of their stolen Terran warship, Kollos polished the blade end of his lirpa. The arced metal had several scratches and marks down its length, but it had served him faithfully for many decades. He had longed to go down to the surface of this remote planet for today's attack, but he owed his second in command a turn on a landing team.

Besides, there would be nobody left to fight. Their orbital bombardment would've left little more than ashes and ruins in their wake. Muroc enjoyed looting more than he did hand-to-hand combat, anyway, so the choice to send him was a logical one. They'd expended a small number of their stolen ship's torpedoes in today's impressive display of efficient annihilation. No doubt, this would send yet another message to the Terran Empire that Vulcans could and would have their freedom. It was simply a matter of time...and blood.

"Osu, we have captured a survivor," a voice called over the comms. He recognized it immediately as Muroc's. The younger man sounded as confused as he felt.

"...Repeat your previous statement."

"A Terran woman survived the attack," Muroc reiterated, and Kollos set down his lirpa and cloth.

"That isn't possible. We confirmed that there were no life signs after the bombardment. You should be locating only usable supplies–"

"I am aware of that, but even now she is struggling to escape from my grip - a futile effort, obviously."

Kollos thought silently for a moment before reaching a decision.

"Have one of your guards bring her to the ship. I wish to interrogate her," he ordered, and when the channel closed, a small smirk stretched his lips. Perhaps he would be able to satiate his bloodlust today after all.

He knew the impulse was a savage one, but then, how better to defeat savage beings than by beating them at their own game? Vulcans had attempted a logical, passive approach to resistance. It had failed. Thus, Kollos had met up with others of his species who shared his desire to topple the oppressive Terran Empire and formed a small rebel army.

Logic alone could not prevail in their struggle for freedom. They needed to use force. Violence was all Terrans understood, and who better to outdo them than the people whose past had made a desert run green with their own blood? If the Humans believed they were savages before, they had seen nothing yet. Kollos had vowed to make them see the error of their ways, to continue until the Terrans were kneeling beaten and bloody at their feet, pleading for the mercy that they themselves had not bothered to show to any species but their own.

Kollos stood and ran a hand through his scruffy graying hair, picking up his weapon. With a deep breath, he rolled his scarred, muscled shoulders and looked to the Vulcan at the Operations station.

"I shall await the arrival of our latest prisoner. You have the Bridge."

--

Most Terrans protested their capture, tossing out threats and swearing vengeance, but this one was strangely silent. Curiosity was painted plainly across her face from the moment Kollos laid eyes on her. Sitting on the bench in the brig, she tilted her head like an inquisitive sehlat when he entered the space.

Muroc paused beside his makeshift commander and spoke in a low voice.

"I realize you wanted me to send someone else, but given the circumstances, I believed it would be prudent for me to bring her here myself. After her initial struggle, she seemed to recognize me and ceased her resistance," he stated sounding slightly disconcerted. "She seemed confused about many things: her location, my appearance...she even seemed not to understand the hostilities between her people and ours."

"How did she survive the bombardment?" Muroc merely shook his head and looked at her as if she was some scientific experiment gone wrong.

"I do not know."

The two Vulcans were silent for a moment, observing the woman they'd discovered. She wasn't dressed like the rest of the Terrans they'd encountered, nor did she seem arrogant and prejudiced. However, Kollos knew from experience that appearances could be deceiving.

"She recognized your voice, as well, osu," Muroc murmured, and Kollos looked sharply over at him. "When you responded to me over the comms, she waited until the channel was closed and said that she wished to speak with you. She knew you by name. By that point, she was behaving quite obediently."

Looking back at the Human, Kollos found her smiling softly at him. Anger stirred deep within him, and he took a slow, even breath.

"Leave us. I wish to speak with her alone." He waited until Muroc and the guards had all exited before opening the door to her cell. "If you attempt to resist or escape, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, osu." She spoke quietly, but her words still struck him as hard as a punch to the jaw. He blinked and tamped down his emotions.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked lingering in the doorway. His broad shoulders effectively blocked the way as he crossed his arms, so he wasn't concerned about her being able to slip past him. She didn't even seem bothered about being kept in the brig.

"Yes, osu. You're Minister Kollos of the Vulcan High Command." With a stunned blink, his arms dropped to his sides once more. "You're the first person I met when I reached the Vulcan Embassy...the first Vulcan who honored me with his friendship."

'Friendship'? Kollos would sooner eat his own liver than befriend a Terran. A subconscious sneer curled his upper lip, and he saw her smile droop.

"You...? You don't remember me, do you? Sub-commander Muroc didn't either." She sounded genuinely disappointed, but Kollos couldn't bring himself to care. This little wretch had the audacity, not only to survive, but to come aboard his ship, claim to know him personally, and speak the language of his own people - one that had been made illegal by her Empire.

He knew several Vulcans who had been punished for breathing a single word of their own language around a Terran, himself included. The hours he'd spent locked in an agony booth were certainly enough to cut away any remaining neutrality he'd held for Humans. Hatred had filled that void and now bubbled hot and lethal in his veins.

If his composure was any more fractured, he'd have removed the burden of her head from her shoulders the moment a syllable of Vuhlkansu touched her unworthy, arrogant tongue.

"We are not acquainted, nor would I wish to befriend a single member of your monstrous species." His voice had dropped into a quiet, dangerous register, but she didn't seem frightened. Damn her, why wasn't she intimidated? "You are incorrect on other points, as well. There is no Vulcan High Command - the Terran Empire would never allow their slaves to hold such authority. Muroc is not a Sub-commander - again, your people would never allow us in such high positions. There is no Vulcan embassy, but there are prisons...work camps...slaves. Do you wish to retract your statement?"

She looked up at him with her lips parted in surprise.

"But...but that can't be. Starfleet's mission was to seek out new life...to make friends while we explore the galaxy. The ship we're aboard is the Enterprise, isn't it?"

Kollos shook his head.

"This ship was an Imperial Starfleet ship, but it is now under new ownership and has been renamed. You are currently aboard the Retribution, a ship owned by the Vulcan Resistance Movement," he said straightening up and looking at her with as much defiance as he could muster. "I am the commanding officer."

She looked utterly flabbergasted.

"Osu–"

"You will not speak our language! You have no right, Terran!" He roared, and she flinched. "You will be silent and cause no trouble, or I will use you to test just how much pain one member of your species can endure. We have not had the opportunity to test one of the Terran Empire's Agony Booths on one of their creators yet. If you behave yourself, there will be no reason for you to become the first. Am I understood?"

She nodded her head quietly, but he couldn't deny the pain and sadness in her expression. As he strode from the cell, he tamped down the shard of guilt he felt over losing his temper at her. She'd caused no trouble yet, but who knows? She might be trying to infiltrate his organization and topple them from the inside. Kollos could not risk the future of his people on the chance that this Human was different from the rest of her people.

The sting of the life they'd stolen from him still gripped his heart and twisted his insides with agony every time he dwelled for too long upon what could have been. If the Empire didn't exist, would he have been fortunate enough to have a mate? A permanent home? Perhaps even a child? The stories of how life used to be before the Terrans took over always sounded so idyllic. If he'd lived during that time, would he have a pet sehlat? Could he have immersed himself in more academic pursuits, like science?

Pausing as the lift door closed behind him, Kollos forced himself to take a deep breath. As always, those scenarios that had been snatched away before they had a chance to come into being gnawed incessantly at his brain. He needed to focus on the mission, instead. That was how he was going to survive this war for Vulcan's freedom.

He would gladly spill the blood of every living Terran if it meant future generations of Vulcans would not have to suffer as he had.

It was too bad, though, that he would not be contributing to the gene pool for that future generation. He would've liked to have a family. A mate, a child or two...yes, and a sehlat to protect them all.

When the lift door opened again, Kollos had forced his control back into place, shoved away his pain, and come back to himself. He couldn't afford to waste time with wishful thinking. He had a mission to complete.

--

This was clearly not the Kollos with whom I'd become so familiar. From the moment he raged at me in the brig of his ship, it was obvious that this was an entirely different man. His hair was slightly longer and grayer, and it looked unkempt compared to the Minister's usual appearance. However shaggy it looked, though, it did at least appear soft and clean.

As for the man himself, this Kollos was tough and scarred - obviously battleworn and teeming with bitterness. His physical strength wasn't what startled me, though. His barely-tethered anger did that well enough on its own.

The Kollos I had spoken to barely hours before had been in complete control of his emotions. This one, however...he'd seemed to be on the cusp of losing control and becoming savage like the ancient Vulcans about whom I'd been told so much. He'd been through a lot, this remade Kollos, and from what I could gather, his bitterness was justified.

There were several questions prodding at me insistently, though, the chief of which was whether I'd be able to get home to the universe I knew, because, clearly, this was somewhere entirely different. The second most prominent inquiry was what the hell had happened?

While viewing a scientific experiment as a member of a cultural exchange program on a planet at the edge of Vulcan space, there had been an explosion, a flash of pinkish light, and I'd been knocked to the ground by some unseen force. My vision swam so severely that I'd no choice but to close my eyes.

When I opened them again, my skin tingled, and everything was burning. I'd looked around, squinting through the flames, but there was nobody else in sight. Maybe they'd all gotten out, already? Stumbling toward the exit while trying to stay low, I managed to make it out of the crumbling ruin of a building, but where I expected to see a small, well-maintained city there was only rubble and flame.

Shocked at what I'd found, a small scream worked its way out of my throat. Had a single failed experiment caused all of this? Surely not! This appeared to be planet-wide devastation. The scale of the experiment wouldn't have been capable of destroying much more than a building or two if it went wrong. Besides, the Vulcan scientists conducting it had been so careful. They'd made sure that every precaution was in place.

So how the hell was this region of the planet basically destroyed?

And how was I still alive?

A familiar hum sounded from a few feet away, and several Vulcans in odd outfits materialized. Relief had rushed through me like a great wave, and before I could think better of my actions, before I even noticed that they were all armed and slightly ragged looking, my feet propelled me toward them.

"Oh, thank goodness! Help! Please, I don't know if there's anyone trapped in the–" Four phaser rifles were aimed at me in a fraction of a second. I froze in place, confused more than ever. "W-What are you–?"

"Silence!" One of them ordered, and I broke off my attempts to speak. The same man stepped forward. "Are there others? Did anyone else survive the bombardment?"

What?

"I don't know what you're talking about. I-I was in the lab, and there was an explosion, and when I got up I was here," I stammered, but he seemed not to believe me. "Nothing looks the same. Where am I? Aren't you here to help the injured?"

One of the others scoffed.

"You must have sustained cranial trauma. Why would a Vulcan help Terran scum like you?"

Startled, I could do no more than blink.

"I-I don't understand...? Our people are allies–"

"Allies?" The man closest to me - the familiar one - scowled down at me. "Is that how your species assuages your guilt? By calling your slaves your allies?"

I gaped up at him, but before I could protest, he grabbed my upper arm. I struggled, and when he called his ship, I heard a voice that was so out of place that it barely registered at first. That's when I recognized my captor.

Muroc hadn't believed me when I said I knew him, but I had gotten to see Kollos in the end. Before he raged at me, I thought I saw...well, a glimpse of the man I'd known. Maybe that was just wishful thinking, though.

The lights dimmed a couple of hours after he left. With a sigh, I resigned myself to my current imprisonment and resolved to prove to Kollos that I wasn't going to try to oppress him the way he claimed Humanity had already done to his people. The first step, though, needed to be finding out more about this place. What had my people truly done? Were he and the others justified in their hatred? Somehow, I already knew I wouldn't like the answer.

--

Over the course of the next few days, all I saw was the inside of my cell. Each afternoon - or at least, I assumed it was during the afternoon - a different Vulcan brought me a ration pack and a small glass of water to wash it down. Apparently, these officers weren't able to get their hands on a more stable food supply. That didn't bode well.

Occasionally, just before lights out, Kollos came by and asked me a series of seemingly innocuous questions.

"Are you from Earth or a Terran planetary annex?"

"Have you encountered many of my kind?"

"Do you have a family?"

"How has the quality of your sleep been since you took up residence in this cell?"

Finally, though, when he tired of those, his queries became a bit more pointed. Repeatedly he asked me how I survived the blast, but he simply didn't believe that I was just as puzzled as he was. One night, after something like two weeks in captivity, I'd become irritated enough to snap at him.

"Again, I ask you: how did you survive the assault?" He'd already asked the question three times, and after two weeks of awful sleep on the cramped little bench that passed as a bed in my cell, my back ached, I was tired, and I'd just plain had enough. "Your non-compliance will cease. You will tell me how you–"

"I don't know, alright?! Just mind-meld with me if you want the answer that badly! You won't even have to force me. I'll submit to one right now, if it'll stop you asking the same damned questions over and over like a broken fucking record," I ground out, and he raised his eyebrows.

"You...would willingly submit yourself to such a procedure?" The disbelief in his voice was understandable if he'd been telling the truth about Humans being so awful.

"Yes, but only if you're the one performing it."

Taken aback by my willingness, he opened the cell door and gestured for me to stand.

"We will go to the briefing room, and your meld will be witnessed by my most trusted officers," he said. "Out of respect for your good behavior since your capture, I will warn you in advance. If I sense any intentional resistance during the meld, I will cease being gentle and tear the information I require from your synapses. I would prefer to avoid such an action, as it can lead to permanent brain damage, but if you purposefully resist me, I will not hesitate to do so. Do you understand?"

"Yes, os–I mean, sir. Yes, sir," I murmured, hoping he wouldn't be offended that my old habit had nearly made me slip up again. I'd been conversing with Vulcans for so long that small usages of their language, like titles, were simply automatic. It was so hard to turn it off, but I was trying my best for Kollos's sake. After all, even if this wasn't the Kollos I'd come to know so well, I owed it to my memories of our friendship and my feelings for him to at least try to be kind.

We were nearly to the conference room when I realized that I hadn't been cuffed or restrained in any way. Obviously, Kollos either trusted me not to run off, or - more likely - he knew he could catch me with relatively little effort if I did try to escape. Not that there was anywhere I could go. The layout of this universe's Earth starships was different enough to make it seem like an unsolvable maze.

Taking a seat in one of a pair of chairs, I tried very hard to block out the dozen or so sets of eyes watching us. I needed to be relaxed for this meld so that Kollos wouldn't have any need to be rougher than necessary. Even a meld with the most gentle of telepaths could be severely disorienting.

"Have you participated in a mind-meld before?" He asked loudly enough for the others to hear.

"Yes, but not recently."

"Have you any mental training regarding telepathy, mind-melds, or mental defense?" He inquired as he took his own seat directly in front of me.

"No, I don't."

"Very well. I will treat you as all untrained minds are treated. As you will know from your previous melds, anxiety can throw up resistance, whether intentional or not," he said raising his hands but not touching me just yet. "Obey my instructions during the meld, and I will have no need to harm you. Now, take a deep breath."

I did so, and his fingertips met my face: two on my chin, one on either side of my nose, and one on each temple.

The effect was familiar and instantaneous as he began to chant in that low, smooth voice of his.

"My mind to your mind...your thoughts to my thoughts..." His voice faded as our minds merged, and suddenly I found the pair of us standing in front of each other. It was as disconcerting as my previous meld with his counterpart, but I did my best to remain calm. "Recall the day in which my men found you."

All at once, our surroundings changed, and I was in the lab again. The group of Vulcan scientists conducting their experiments were only a few feet away, and I walked slowly toward them.

Kollos blocked my path with a stern expression on his face.

"I said, the day we captured you–"

"This is that day," I said emphatically, and, with the absolute certainty that he'd be able to tell that I was answering truthfully, I stepped around him and moved over to stand beside the machine. Just as it had happened that day, within moments, there was an explosion, and I watched as the pink light engulfed me again.

Disoriented yet again, I felt a small bit of panic creeping into me as acrid smoke filled my lungs once more. Struggling for breath despite the fact that this was just a memory, I knew Kollos would follow, so I did the same thing I did that day, taking the same turns I had until I was outside the smoldering building.

The sight of the devastated landscape was still shocking. All the destruction and the flames licking up amongst the rubble still made me feel a pang of sympathy for whoever might have been trapped.

A large hand met my shoulder in the midst of the meld, and I turned to find Kollos looking at me suspiciously.

"There were no Vulcan life signs on the planet's surface before our attack."

"Neither was there a Terran Empire that morning before the machine exploded," I countered, and before he could ask, I called forth the memories of my own time studying under Vulcan teachers and living alongside them as I walked through life. Image after image, memory after memory floated in. I showed him every instance I could think of regarding Starfleet's mission and Human interactions with other species including Vulcans. Ambassador Soval and Admiral Forrest chatting, Captain Archer and T'Pol walking together, on and on, example after example, until–

"What is this?" His hoarse voice called, and I knew immediately why he suspected that I was somehow manipulating him. The Kollos I knew, the Minister of the High Command, my friend, and the man I'd grown rather...attached to over the years, was standing mere feet from his rougher counterpart.

This was the last time I'd seen him. This was the day I'd left Vulcan. The suns beat down upon us both, but we were in our own little world, as usual, and took no notice of it. Kollos had taken that day quite seriously and had donned a set of his ceremonial robes, the deep green fabric with embroidered flowers and vines twining up the sleeves hugged his torso with an elegance that left me breathless. I could never tell him that, though. It would be highly inappropriate, and I didn't want to risk ruining our friendship with my feelings.

Watching from this odd, outsider's perspective, I saw Kollos take a slow step toward me as we reached the transport station. It was quite deserted that day, mainly because at that time of day the majority of the population would have been busy with their occupations or their education. Given how empty the station was, we didn't bother to keep our voices down - an oddity for my friend, but I'd been glad of it.

"Ashal-veh, there is something which we should discuss when you return from your scientific exchange," he said with the same inflection he'd used that day. Soft and somewhat tender in retrospect, my Kollos's voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket, affording me a small measure of comfort that I hadn't experienced in weeks. I'd turned the memory over and over in my mind as I sat uselessly in the brig, wondering what he could've possibly wanted to discuss...and trying to determine the meaning of that damned word. He'd said it before - it seemed to be some sort of a title - but he'd never told me what it meant, and he never used it with anyone else.

I thought I'd have all the time in the world to ask him what it meant.

"As soon as I get back to Vulcan, we'll go to that tea shop you enjoy so much and talk about anything you want for as long as you like," the version of me from my memory responded, and I noticed something I hadn't, in the moment. The Former Minister was blushing. A rare occurrence, indeed!

"That is kind of you, but a private conversation would be more advantageous, in this instance," he murmured, and I watched as the other me cupped his cheeks and smiled up at him. How had I managed to be so bold when I was so sad about leaving him?

"Of course, osu. If that's what you like, then when I get back, you and Koss can come over to my place, we can crack open a bottle of that port you favor, and the three of us can talk all night."

"I...believe this is a topic I should discuss with you alone, first. Depending upon the outcome, my son can be informed later..."

Confused, but wanting to make him happy, I agreed.

"Sure, if that's what you'd like to do. I'd never say 'no' to spending time alone with you, osu. I promise you and I can have a private evening with just the two of us when I'm home again." He nodded his head in approval, and I watched as I kissed his cheek and drew him into a tight hug.

"Six weeks is quite a sizable duration of time for us to be parted, ashal-veh. Are you certain you will be alright?"

A light laugh had poured from my throat as I savored the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. I'd never had the courage to hug him before, let alone to dare hope that he'd return the gesture.

"I'll be perfectly fine, you worrywart. If anything, it sounds as if you'll be the one pining over the absence of a friend. I'll miss you too, of course, but it's only a few weeks. You watch, time will fly by and we'll be together again before you know it."

He sighed just as he had that day, brushing the tips of two of his fingers down one of my cheeks, sending a bolt of warmth across my skin. He'd never done that before. Not knowing if it was a gesture with some sort of meaning behind it, I'd taken a chance and copied his movements.

"Be safe." His husky murmur coupled with his light grip on my waist flustered me more than I'd thought possible, and when I watched myself board the transport shuttle, the image of the Minister froze.

I became acutely aware of the other Kollos by my side. As I'd watched the memory of our last interaction together, all at once, the realization that I may never get the chance to ask him what he meant slammed into me, and I felt the corners of my eyes burning with tears. I hadn't meant for my captor to see this reaction or feel how such a private memory was affecting me, but if it proved to him that I was telling the truth and showed him how I knew him, then it was worth it.

"You show me this freely?" He asked, and because of the meld, I heard him as if he was both in front of and beside me. Mild disorientation prodded at me, but I managed a quiet 'yes' in spite of it. "The light you saw in the laboratory...what do you believe it was?"

"To tell you the truth, I don't know. I have several theories, but each is as unlikely as the next," I muttered, trying desperately to ignore how much I could hear the evidence of my tears in my voice. "It could've been some sort of odd radiation surge, or...or a portal through spacetime, for all I know. I'm not a physicist. My area of study is in biochemistry. I will say, though, this is not the universe I left behind. Our people are at peace where I come from."

Gradually, safely, he withdrew from my mind, ending the meld in the same way his counterpart had in a wholly different universe.

"You have not lied to me. You did not try to stop me from viewing the information I required. I do not know how, but you have told me the truth." Kollos sounded as surprised as he looked. "What am I supposed to do with you?"

When he cocked his head curiously, I realized he was truly seeking an answer from me, not just asking a rhetorical question.

"I may not know everything that was done to your people, but I want to help if I can. Who knows if I'll ever be able to get home? In the meantime, I may as well do what I can to right the wrongs committed by my species," I reasoned, and Kollos raised a single eyebrow.

"You expect us to trust a Terran?"

"I don't expect you to after all that you've been through, but I do hope to prove to you that you can, should the need arise."

Kollos glanced at his officers, and nodded his head once.

"You will be given the chance to prove yourself, but be forewarned: if you so much as attempt to betray us, you will regret being conceived."

Oh. Lovely. Death threats seemed to be as common as greetings in this universe. No doubt I'd get used to them as time wore on. They didn't startle me anymore, at least.

"I promise I won't give you any reason to doubt me, sir."

--

As Kollos escorted her to a guarded set of quarters, he couldn't help but feel guilt and self-hatred rising slowly in his chest.

Illogical feelings, of course. Kollos himself had done nothing to warrant such intensity in his own frustrations.

And yet...

'Ashal-veh' the image of himself had called her. Kollos hated that it hadn't been a manipulated memory. Somehow, a well-groomed, happier version of himself had dared to call a Terran woman a Vulcan term of endearment.

After all that those monsters had done! After all that his people had suffered at their hands! How could a Vulcan ever love a Human?! He'd even initiated a partial ozh'esta with her!

The name he'd heard during the meld, Koss, stuck in his head. It was one that he'd considered to be a serious contender if he'd had a son. According to her, this other version of himself did have a son.

All his years of regrets and wishful thinking grated within him at the realization that one of his alternate selves had a family. Clearly in that universe his mate was no longer in the picture, but he'd fallen in love a second time...with a Human.

How could this have happened? He felt betrayed by himself, by his own feelings. He knew already that if he didn't keep his heart turned firmly against her, there was a very good chance that he would end up exactly the way that 'Minister' Kollos had: in love with his worst enemy...worshiping the ground upon which she walked...craving her touch in the dark, solitude of his quarters when he should instead be sleeping...

The strain of walking beside her was quite suddenly too much to bear.

His emotions punched a hole in his tenuous, carefully-regulated control. The rage that he normally held so tightly on its leash curled his lips into a feral snarl. Slamming the Human girl against a bulkhead in the corridor, Kollos gripped her shoulder and her throat with equal ferocity.

"The man you knew is no longer here. Nothing in this galaxy will ever make me care for a Terran!" To her credit, she didn't cry out or struggle. She tilted her head back to lean against the wall, and her eyes...oh, her eyes! She didn't look frightened or defiant. She seemed curious, as if he was a sehlat who'd responded to a command in an unexpected way. "Your people have murdered and enslaved my people, oppressing them and outlawing nearly everything to do with our culture. Until the day your people kneel before Vulcans in obedient supplication, all I am capable of feeling for you is disgust and contempt."

He had to convince her, but most importantly, he had to reinforce that notion in his own mind. He hated her. He had killed many of her kind and would continue to do so in the future, so...

Why wasn't she frightened of him?

Even worse, why was a small part of him proud that she wasn't?

Without further ado, Kollos opened the door to her quarters and practically shoved her inside.

"You are not to leave without authorization. If you require anything, your guards will attend to it," he said shoving his emotions back into place. "If you keep to your word and assist us, you will be rewarded. If not, you will die. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," she murmured straightening her posture. He didn't even acknowledge her answer. He just turned on his heel and beat a hasty retreat to his quarters.

As he did every night, Kollos removed his shirt and attempted to meditate, but this time all he got for his efforts was a single word echoing through his mind on repeat: 'ashal-veh.'

Eventually, he fetched his lirpa from its place on the wall, and, with an almighty roar, he brought the blunt end down on the table in front of him, smashing it to splinters in one blow.

For a moment, all he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears and his heavy breathing, then his door chime sounded. With resignation, he called for whoever it was to enter. He knew there was no chance of hiding the evidence of his temper, so his guest would simply have to cope with the state of his quarters.

"Osu?" His eyes snapped up at the sound of Muroc's hesitant voice. He never sounded like that. Kollos must've startled him when he lost his temper. "Are you well?"

"...I do not know," he murmured setting his lirpa back on its wall mounted hooks.

"Did something in the Terran's mind...trouble you?" When Kollos remained silent, Muroc tried again. "You know that anything you tell me will remain confidential, do you not?"

He supposed that it was only fair that he tell his second in command about the revelation that was compromising his emotional control so severely.

"Sit, my friend. I have much to communicate to you."

They spoke for many hours that night. Confessing everything to Muroc was somewhat therapeutic. Having someone share in his confusion and voice the same questions confirmed to him that he wasn't hallucinating or otherwise losing his mind. Never had relief felt so sweet.

Over the next thirty-seven days - not that he'd been keeping count - the girl had kept to her word. She was as involved in their resistance movement as they allowed her to be. At first, they only gave her small tasks that could be supervised: assisting with ship maintenance, tending to superficial injuries, and preparing the food they'd secured in their various raids.

To Kollos's surprise, she had done everything she was asked, never uttering a single complaint. She always gave a small acknowledgement - 'yes, sir' or 'I'm on it' or something similar - and got straight to work. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that she truly enjoyed being able to help them fight back against her own people.

The first few weeks, he wasn't really convinced that she'd keep her word, but when she bled for them two months in, Kollos was forced to admit that she was serious. During a mild skirmish against a small Terran transport, Kollos decided to test her loyalty, so he assigned her to the boarding party. They were responsible for taking out any guards in the cargo hold and tagging the crates with transport signal enhancers.

Everything went according to plan. Kollos managed to disable the ship's engines and sensors, and when the boarding party transported over, there were only a few guards to deal with. Within mere moments, they'd stolen the supplies due to be delivered to a nearby Terran starbase, and made it back aboard the Retribution.

When Muroc and the Terran reported to the Bridge to give their account of events for the record, he saw a large, red stain blooming across the upper arm of her shirt. Kollos brought her to the medical bay and tended to her personally. She had fought her own people and bled in the service of the Vulcan Resistance. That was more than any Terran had ever done on behalf of his people. She deserved respect after that.

As she sat on the medical bed while he sterilized her wound, he found himself speaking before he could think better of it.

"You are not...In my experience, Terrans do not behave the way that you have. You act as though you truly wish us to be free," he murmured, not daring to meet her gaze with his own. He focused on the task before him, wondering why he was feeling almost positive about her.

"That's because I do, osu." He should've raged at her as he did before. He should've carried out his threats for her casual use of his people's language, but...he didn't. The thought of retaliating against her made it harder for him to breathe. Instead, he looked into her eyes.

Oh. Was this what his counterpart had seen? Bravery, intelligence, and beauty, all wrapped up in one fragile Human woman? Well, given her actions today, perhaps 'fragile' was an inaccurate descriptor. He caressed the bandage that he'd wrapped around her arm without conscious thought.

The insatiable urge to know exactly how much she knew about his culture rose as fast and furiously within him as lava in a fissure vent. How much had the other version of himself taught her? Would she misunderstand him as she had the other Kollos when he all but confessed to desiring her as a mate?

His jaw clenched at the thought. No, he would leave no room for misinterpretation in their courtship–

Courtship?! What was he thinking? She...she was Human!

But that argument felt weaker every time he used it to tamp down his growing emotions. She was Human, but she'd proved herself to be strong, determined, and fair-minded. Could he really continue to hold against her that which she could not control?

"Have you been shown the Vulcan method of meditation?" She looked a bit surprised at his question, but she nodded her head and uttered a quiet 'yes, osu' that send his heart racing in his side. "Very well. Tonight, I will bring the necessary items, and we will meditate together in your quarters. I would like to assess your technique."

Later that evening when he kept his word, he entered her quarters only to find her kneeling in the center of her living space. His brow furrowed as he tried to determine what she was doing.

"You said that until Humanity knelt before Vulcans, until we humbled ourselves, all you could feel for me was disgust and contempt. I can't make you like me, Kollos, but I don't want you to feel disgusted by me, either," she murmured as he made his way toward her. "I may only be one Human, but one is a start...right? Is this enough to earn some personal neutrality in your eyes?"

Kollos dropped to his knees before her, setting his meditation accoutrements aside. Where could he even begin when he hadn't even begun to puzzle out his own feelings?

"Even before this, you have proved yourself more worthy of respect than any other Terran." The surprised smile she gave him more than made up for the difficulty of that admission. That acknowledgement alone startled him into turning away to set up the candles. "Come. Meditate with me."

--

The next time Kollos was involved in a hand-to-hand fight against the Empire's forces, she was by his side. He'd never been in battle at her side before, so he hoped that she'd view this as the sign of trust that he intended it to be.

It began easily enough. Combat with Empire ships was fairly common for them, but this one had a big prize: this shipment of supplies was due to be delivered to the Emperor. The goods aboard were of the highest quality, and the Resistance wanted them. Badly.

Disabling the engines had been easy enough, but how Muroc had managed to disable their communication array before they could get a message off, Kollos had no idea. He wasn't complaining, though. That just made their job simpler.

Grabbing his lirpa, Kollos felt his lips tug into an almost-smile that easily betrayed how much he was looking forward to this. It had been far too long since he'd last spilled the blood of his enemies. Knocking a few heads together always felt rather therapeutic. For him, this was long overdue.

They'd made excellent progress through the guards, at first, removing them from the equation as easily as swatting flies.

Halfway through, however, reinforcements were summoned from other decks, and soon Kollos and his fighters were surrounded. When he was pushing back two Terrans at once, a man managed to get past him with a knife in hand.

He turned barely a fraction of a second later, but that was enough time for the man to grab Kollos's Terran. He dared to lay a hand on her – on his mate!

Kollos saw red. Thinking of nothing but her, he began tearing through the enemies before him. He didn't stop until he was within grabbing distance of the Human man. His target let out a startled yelp when he was tugged backward by Kollos's grip on his uniform collar. A primal yell tore from the Vulcan's throat as he threw the Terran officer to the ground and brought the blade end of his lirpa down on his neck.

The dagger that had been pressing into her skin now lay on the ground by the dead man's feet, a small drop of red Human blood coloring the tip. Her blood.

Still breathing heavily, Kollos turned his gaze to her, fully aware that he most likely looked utterly savage and murderous, covered in the evidence of his body count from this fight. The scratch at the hollow of her throat slowly wept a few drops of blood, staining her clothing as he moved closer to her. Reaching out with all the care he could muster in his current state, Kollos brushed his fingertips down the length of her clavicle.

There was much that he needed to communicate to her: his regret over behaving so foolishly toward her; his fear at the sight of someone getting that close to her with a weapon; the affection he felt for her that he was no longer able to ignore; his relief that she was not seriously injured. The significance of his need to protect her was at the forefront of his mind, but all he could seem to manage at that particular second was looking into her eyes.

He was certain that his own hunger for her was showing quite plainly, but he couldn't tell whether the reciprocal desire he saw in her irises was really there, or if he was simply projecting his own emotions onto her features in his mind's eye.

Her hands came up and covered his where it rested, and Kollos felt his control falter. He could take her here. It would be a simple matter for him to shred her clothing and stake his claim to her in front of everyone else. Her screams would be for him...because of him...

"Kollos?" Her barely audible call of his name snapped him from his primal, spiraling thoughts. The sounds of fighting had died out around them. "Are you alright?"

He swallowed heavily, tearing his eyes away from hers with great difficulty.

"I am unharmed," he croaked, but, emotionally, he wasn't sure that he was. How could he be after witnessing danger sidle up to the woman he loved, brandishing a dagger?

He couldn't remove her from his thoughts that night no matter how hard he tried. It had been wrong of him to immediately react as though they were already bonded, but...it had been instinctive. He could not force himself to feel guilt over his actions. The memory of the hungry look she gave him still burned so vividly in his mind's eye, stoking the flames of his desire. All of his confused emotions swirled around inside him, but they all essentially acknowledged the same central point: Kollos loved and needed this Human woman more than he'd ever needed anyone before.

It was shameful for him to give in to his emotions so easily, but that night Kollos couldn't help himself. He was forced to satisfy himself with his hand. With every stroke he imagine the caress of warm, slick walls gripping his length in place of his callused fingers. Would she sound as gentle as she looked, or was she just as savage inside as he was?

No! No, he mustn't allow himself to think such things about her. She may have looked as though she was prepared to offer herself to him during that fight, but she deserved more than that. She deserved his respect.

When the explosion happened a few days later, that was how he justified his actions. This was repayment for the respect she'd earned, nothing more.

That was a lie, of course. It was more. He knew from the moment he threw himself into action that this could never just be simple respect.

Kollos didn't think in the moment. He didn't analyze the situation. He simply acted. The minor skirmish in which they'd become involved was on the verge of being won, but the Retribution had taken damage. Small fires and shorting circuits illuminated the bridge from all corners. A familiar, high-pitched whine began, and Kollos leapt at her, wrapping her in his arms and shielding her with his own body just as the console she'd been working at exploded. Heat and pressure met the expanse of his back, and something hit him hard enough to knock them both to the ground.

As the pair managed to scramble away from the flames, he noted with relief that she was not hurt. She looked up at him in surprise - did she truly believe he would have allowed her to be hurt on his watch? - but when her eyes trailed lower, she went pale.

"We need a medic! Now!" She shouted over her shoulder, and when he looked down, there was a long, sharp piece of metal protruding from just below his collarbone. An emerald puddle of his blood was already forming on the deck plate beneath them.

Ah. He'd been impaled. No matter. His injury was irrelevant. She was alarmed but safe. That was his only concern.

Why was the Bridge spinning?

There was a dull thunk as his back struck the ground at an angle, but her hands cushioned his head's impact. He couldn't bring himself to regret his actions, especially looking up into her eyes at such close proximity. Her fingertips were so soft where they met his skin. He wished she would touch him for the rest of his existence. Why had he ever fought his attraction to her?

As his consciousness faded, he managed a single word, even though he was barely aware that he was speaking aloud.

"Ashal-v...veh," he breathed just before the world went black.

--

The trip to the medical bay was a blur. Muroc had reached Kollos's side on the bridge just in time to hear him utter that word. Nobody said a word as their leader was laid on a medical bed to receive their doctor's ministrations, but Muroc did give me a respectful nod while we waited.

Both versions of Kollos had called me the same term: 'ashal-veh.' Not long ago, Kollos pinned me against a wall and swore that he'd only ever be able to hate me, and now he'd saved my life twice. The look he gave me the first time nearly made me spontaneously combust where I stood.

Seeing him stalk toward me, glaring and covered in blood was almost more than I'd been able to handle. I'd thought - a small part of me had hoped - that he was going to claim me right there against the Terran ship's bulkhead. Instead, his touch had been feather-light, and I'd been more sexually frustrated when I returned to my quarters that night than ever before.

To complicate things even further, beyond simple lust, I'd begun to feel soft for this hardened, bitter, angry mess of a Vulcan freedom-fighter. His emotional control was tenuous at the best of times, he held grudges against those who had wronged him or his people, and he seemed to enjoy killing a little too much, but despite all of that - hell, maybe because of all of that - I loved him. I'd watched him murder a man who'd gotten too close to me with a knife, yet I still felt irresistibly drawn to him.

What the hell did that say about my own morality?

After all, under that rough exterior, Kollos wasn't completely evil. He had protected me, respected me, and even though he wanted to kill me multiple times in the beginning of our acquaintance, he'd given me a chance to prove myself. Hell, I'd even seen him full of bloodlust and rage, deep in the heart of battle, savage and the polar opposite of how a Vulcan was supposed to behave, but I couldn't help the way my heart fluttered when he'd regarded me with blatant lust afterward.

Those nights where we meditated together - yes, there had been many more than just the one - were soothing and tense in equal measures. On the one hand, I could almost forget that I wasn't with the Kollos I'd known before. Those nights, he was tranquil and serene. On the other, every time I closed my eyes to meditate with him, I felt as though I was being watched...as if he didn't actually close his eyes. I had wondered more than once if he'd simply taken the opportunity that those nights had afforded to observe me in close quarters.

That thought seemed mildly creepy, at first, but after a while, I almost relished the feeling of being so interesting to him that he couldn't help but shirk his nightly meditation to watch me instead. It was somehow simultaneously odd and flattering. For all his blustering, I knew deep down that he would never harm me. The universe didn't have many constants, but he was one of them.

And I knew that no matter his threats, he would never carry them out. Whether from confusion or desire, I was simply more intriguing to him when I was in one piece and able to behave as illogically as my species was so famous for amongst his people.

Upon reflection, his presence here in this terrifying version of the galaxy seemed like a sort of cosmic apology from the universe for ripping me so unceremoniously away from my home.

My home...I hadn't thought of it for a couple of weeks. The other Kollos must surely have given me up for dead, assuming that time passed the same way in both universes. I hadn't meant to break my promise to him.

A deep, shuddering sort of regret flooded through me, tasting distinctly sour and disgusting as I took a seat beside my Vulcan freedom fighter. Muroc and the doctor had spoken quietly for a few moments and left me alone with him. They'd done all they could. The rest was up to Kollos and his own strength. There was nothing I could do but wait, so that was what I did. Grasping one of his hands with both of my own, I stared at the bandages wrapped securely around his torso. The slight green stain that had seeped through at the location of his wound made my breath hitch in my throat.

I'd lost my chance to tell Former Minister Kollos of the Vulcan High Command how I felt about him, but that didn't mean I was going to lose my chance to tell Kollos of the Vulcan Resistance Movement just how much I adored him. Even if he hated me for it, I wouldn't make the same mistake twice. That would kill me.

So I resolved to wait by his bedside until he awoke. Maybe then we could come to some sort of mutual understanding.

And maybe - just maybe - I could finally figure out what that damned word meant.

Long, silent hours passed with nothing more than the sound of the medical machinery around me and the occasional visits from the doctor. Time ended up blurring together, and before I knew it, I had leaned my head down beside Kollos's arm on his medical bed and dropped off into a light slumber.

--

When his conscious mind finally surfaced, Kollos became aware of two things. The first was that the doctor had kindly dimmed the lights. The second was that his left hand was warmer than his right, and that warmth was accompanied by the sound of slow, steady breathing. Someone had fallen asleep keeping watch over him.

Cracking his eyelids open despite their leaden weight, Kollos saw the angelic visage of the Terran woman he'd fallen so hard for. Both her hands were grasping at his left. Her face was smooshed into the fabric of the blanket that was covering him from the waist down.

If he concentrated very hard with his slowly-recuperating strength, he found that he could catch glimpses of her dreams. For a time, they seemed to be a mix of nonsensical chaos mixed with flashes of anxiety over his condition.

Of all the people for his instincts to select as the ideal partner, he was truthfully glad that it was she who had been selected.

Kollos had no idea how long he'd been dipping in and out of her dreams when she finally stirred. A bleary yawn escaped her, and she blinked at him, seemingly taking a moment to recognize that he was awake just as she was.

"Lesek, t'sai." His raspy whisper settled over her like a blanket. He could see the moment she recalled the meaning of those words, because her eyes widened almost comically as she sat up.

"You're welcome, but I haven't done anything. Hell, I should be thanking you - actually, I am thanking you - for risking your life to save mine," she responded. Her own voice was equally rough with sleep as she spoke, but he found it alluring. "Kollos? I...don't know how to tell you this, but I never had the chance to say it to the other you. I mean it just as much with you as I did with him, and I don't think you'll be happy to hear it, but..."

She took a deep, steadying breath, leaning back to give him some space as she poured her heart out.

"I know we didn't start out on the best of terms, but I've developed...feelings for you." Despite his injury, Kollos sat up and grasped her jaw lightly in one large hand. "I-I know you must be upset, b-but I promise I can keep them to myself if you–"

"You must tell me to stop," he croaked, and she looked up at him quizzically.

"What are you talking about?"

"This is your last chance. Refuse me now while I am still able to turn away. Otherwise..." He swallowed around the lump in his throat that had risen at the thought of her rejection. "Otherwise, I will take you right here and claim you until your voice is gone. You will be mine, and I will be yours."

To his surprise, she smiled affectionately up at him.

"Kollos, I've been yours since the day I was brought aboard your ship."

"Do you fully understand what you are getting yourself into?" He asked as his eyes skimmed her face for any sign of second thoughts. "I have killed many of your people. In my resistance to the Terran Empire, I will likely kill many more. I...very nearly killed you on more than one occasion."

"I know exactly who you are, osu. You're not the Minister of the High Command who I became friends with in my universe. You're Kollos, defender of Vulcan rights. You are Kollos the Brave, Kollos the Valiant...and I love you," she murmured, sliding her hands slowly up his chest to rest carefully atop his bandages. "But I warn you: if you take me, I expect you to keep me."

His pride roared within him as his forehead touched hers.

"Oh, ashal-veh, there was no question about that."

"Are you ever going to tell me what that word means?" She asked as a huff of laughter escaped her. It was abruptly transformed into a gasp as he lifted her onto his lap and buried his face in the crook of her neck to inhale her scent.

"If you behave like a good girl for me, I may tell you when we are catching our breath."

Her answering whimper and the sensation of her fingers burying themselves in his hair was all the confirmation he needed to continue. The other version of himself had no idea what he was missing out on.

~*~*~

Vulcan Words:

Osu = sir

ashal-veh = darling

lesek = thank you

t'sai = my lady

~*~

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[sailorshadzter]

from the ashes of war we rise like stars in the sky

The world where the Avatar has fallen and the war was instead won by the Fire Nation is cruel and dark. Team Avatar tried to get the upper hand with a battle, but the battle cost them more than they could imagined. Those who survived were separated, unknowing if their teammates lived or died. Will they survive long enough to become a group once more? Zutara based.

a rewrite (and continuation).

read on ao3

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

The dungeon is dark and damp.

It’s something that despite all the time that’s passed, she’s yet to grow accustomed to it. The small cell is windowless, so she lives in the dark always, never knowing when it is day or night. She lives in perpetual darkness. At first, when she’d first been brought to this place, she had railed against the heavy oak door, banging her fists and using her own sweat to cut away at the wood… But in the end, it was too much for her on her own and she was left with no other choice but to give in and accept the fate she’d been dealt.

That was months ago now, or so she assumes. It’s hard to keep track of time, considering her circumstances, and she can only guess just how long it has been. She never knows what one day will bring- death, she thinks most days, and some of those days she thinks it might just be better if that were the case. To continue living this way… Through starvation and torture, through pain and suffering… She isn’t certain how much longer she can take it all. But, the Fire Nation keeps her alive, perhaps to be used as bait someday against Zuko, or perhaps for another reason entirely, she couldn’t really say. 

After Aang had fallen to Ozai the day of Sozin’s Comet, everything had changed. With his life had fled the hope of the world and the faith that anyone could defeat the Fire Nation. They had tried to rally the troops, to keep on fighting without Aang, but in the end, there was no healing the broken hopes of the world that had lost their Avatar. So, after a battle that had left her separated from the others, she went on the run, hiding out where she could and being protected by those still loyal to the Avatar’s cause, even if they were far and few between. It’s been so long now since she last saw Sokka or Toph or Zuko that she doesn’t even know if they lived or died… She misses them. She misses them all.

Not long after fleeing the Earth Kingdom, in hopes of finding the others, she’d been caught by a troop of soldiers that had beaten her. In a state of exhaustion from weeks of running, of fighting, of fear, they had overpowered her four to one and she’d been brought back to the Fire Nation, right to the Fire Lord- no, the Phoenix King as he styled himself now. He had offered her a deal… Plead for her life and swear an everlasting oath to him and the Fire Nation and he would release her from her prison. She’d spit at his feet in response.

And so, that was how she found herself where she was now, rotting away in this damp prison cell. 

On this night, she finds she cannot sleep, not something all that unusual for her. The straw pallet they gave her as a bed is little more than a few inches thick, she might as well sleep on the stone floor, and she’s uncomfortable from a wound she’d sustained just the day before. She tosses and turns for the better part of several hours, staring sometimes at the ceiling, other times at the wall or door, until…

Footsteps. 

She’s on alert now, listening closely, wondering for a moment if she’s only just imagined the sound. Footsteps would only mean trouble for her, after all. She lays in silence, waiting, wondering, when the next sound comes. It’s the lock on her door clicking and she knows without a doubt that the door to the cell will swing open at any moment. The late hour surprises her, but she supposes she shouldn’t be shocked, considering all the other abuse she’s suffered at the Fire Nation’s hands. 

The door slowly opens, the familiar creak of the hinges sending chills down her spine. 

There, in the doorway, is not a Fire Nation soldier, but rather, it is a tall form of what she knows must be a man, a blue mask over his face. She doesn’t move, rather, remains still and silent beneath the thin sheet she’s covered up with, a hundred different thoughts racing through her mind. And then… “Katara…?” 

She blinks, attention caught most certainly now. Even now, despite the time that had passed, she would know the pitch of that voice anywhere. But, she doesn’t dare believe it, she cannot get her hopes up like that. It was impossible after all, that Zuko would be standing there in her doorway. “Katara… It’s me…” He’s speaking again, softer now, slower, and her heart skips a beat in her chest. Only then does she sit upright, turning her head so she might stare into the face of the masked man, wondering just how this could be happening. 

He can’t believe his eyes.

There she sits before him, a ghost of the girl he recalls, so very different from who he remembers her to be. But, her brilliantly blue eyes have the very same penetrating gaze he knew so well and her dark hair falls long down her back in the same way hers once did. After all this time, he’d found her. It takes every ounce of his self control not to rush to her side, to take her into his arms and whisk her away from this place. But he can see from the sight of her that she’s terrified, that she’s injured, and fuck is she skinny. Always slim and well built, she’s little more than a skeleton it seems from how her tunic hangs from her limbs. White hot anger surges through him, but Zuko knows that now is not the time for that. His feelings could and would certainly come later, but right now his focus had to be on getting her out of this place alive. “It’s okay, Katara, I’m here…” He whispers, holding out a hand to her, though he spares one glance over a shoulder, listening intently for any sign that he’s been discovered. So far, so good. “I’m here to help you.” He knows that from this moment on, she would need him and he vows right then and there to himself that he would never let her down. 

She sucks in a breath, hesitant, still yet unable to believe that this could be real. But when Zuko outstretched a hand for her to take, she’s reminded of a memory so long ago, when he’d once done the very same thing to her. “Zuko…” Her voice cracks over the once familiar syllables of his name, her blue eyes widening ever so slightly. As she reaches out her hand, hesitantly at first, she watches him push back the mask he wears with his other hand; golden eyes stare back at her. As her hand slips into his, a shiver races the length of her spine and suddenly she knows, suddenly, that flicker of hope she’d felt at the sight of him before becomes ignited. 

Carefully, slowly, gently, he draws her up off the cot and onto her feet, steadying her where she stands before he envelops her into his warm embrace. Now that he holds her, he can feel how frail she’s truly become and his heart turns over. She sinks into him, her own arms wrapping around his waist as she breathes in his scent that even after all this time is familiar to her. “It really is you…” She whispers, burying her face into his chest as he holds on as tightly as he dares, fearful of hurting her any further. 

But when he draws back to hold her at arm’s length, he swallows against the rising tide of emotions, forcing himself to keep his face passive as he stares at her. He can see a cut that’s half healed over her left eye, her right cheek bruised, her lips showing signs of once being punched. “I’m getting you out of here,” he says as he turns away, dropping down to his hunches before her, gesturing for her to climb onto his back. When she doesn’t move right away, he smiles, reaching for her hand to give it a tender squeeze. “Come on…” He murmurs and finally, she moves, climbing onto his back as he wants, allowing his arms to sweep beneath her frame, holding her into place. She’s struck by the memory of doing this very same thing with Sokka and their father and tears glisten in her eyes as she once again wonders what has become of those she loved on the outside.

Returning his mask into place, Zuko steps out into the dark corridor, thankful to find it’s still empty. They make their way down the hall and turn a corner, hearing for the first time any sign of another person around. He steps into the closest empty room and Katara holds her breath as the sound of approaching footsteps grow louder. It’s two guards coming, talking about a recent outburst of their Phoenix King- “.... Fire to all of the curtains…” one is saying as they pass the room they hide within, taking the corner that they’d just come around. His heart skips a beat and Zuko prays to whatever God is listening that they were not on their way to check in on her… But their footsteps fade away and only then does he return to the hall and begin to run.

They make their way through the winding corridors until they come to a dead end, making Katara wonder if he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. But, to her shock, there comes a noise to their left and she’s turning her head to watch as a panel of the wall begins to shift, revealing an old man standing there, a small flame glowing in his palm. She knew him at once, it was Zuko’s uncle Iroh. “Come quickly,” he says and they slip through, Iroh replacing the panel as if it had never been moved at all. “It’s safe, they are all quite distracted with the council meeting,” he continues, giving her a little indication as to why they’d chosen today of all days to come to her as they have. “But let’s not press our luck.” 

Together, they walk the long pathway of this dark corridor, the only light that of Iroh’s flame. But as they reach the end, he steps forward, pushing what she sees to be a large boulder aside, giving them a place to exit. And then, for the first time since the day she was captured, she realizes she’s outside. Hissing in pain, the sunlight so bright, she buries her face in Zuko’s shoulder, wishing for the darkness she’d grown to know for just a split second.

“Let’s get her back,” Zuko says and Iroh nods, taking note of the girl’s appearance; it was worse than he had expected, but she was alive and for that he was thankful. 

Only now, as they walk away from the place that’s been her prison all this time, she feels safe. And that was when she allowed the suddenly overwhelming sense of exhaustion take hold and with her head resting against Zuko’s strong shoulder, she drifted off to sleep. 

[ x x x ]

When she wakes, it’s in a strange place, but it’s in a bed- a real bed. 

Suddenly, it’s all coming back to her now, the memory of the masked man coming to her rescue…  But not just any man, it had been Zuko who came to save her. Her hands rise up simply so they can run over the length of her face, her heartbeat quickening in her chest as she recalls the memories of that night, of that moment. She then makes the first attempt at sitting up, but finds there’s a weight over her legs which prevents her from making it very far. A slow smile spreads over her face at the sight of Zuko there, asleep and draped over her legs, his dark hair falling into his face as he snores softly. 

But then, as if attuned to her being, he’s waking, golden eyes blinking open before he’s surging forward, shocked and relieved at the same time. “Katara!” He nearly shouts her name as he comes to the head of the bed, helping her up into a sitting position against the pillows. “How are you feeling? Can I get you something?” He looks as if he’s not slept in days or more, shocking her, forcing her to wonder just how long it’s been since he came to rescue her from the dungeon. 

“Water,” she rasps, realizing a moment later just how dry her throat has become. Zuko is on the move then, pouring her a cup from a pitcher on the side table and he himself presses it to her lips, carefully tipping it back to give her a small sip. The taste is more refreshing than she ever recalls the taste to be and it floods her with a strange sensation. “Thank you,” she says next, turning to look at him as he settles into place in the chair he once occupied. “How long…” The words die on her lips and Zuko knows she isn’t asking how long they’ve been here.

“Six months,” he says softly, knowing better than to ever lie to her. He watches as that realization dawns upon her and she accepts it willingly, perhaps a part of her had always known it had been a long time. 

“How did you find me?” She asks next, tilting her head as she stares at him. 

“My uncle,” he admits, thinking of the dozens if not hundreds of conversations they’d had about the situation. “I came here looking for him after you’d been taken, like most everyone else, we’d gone off on our own or been separated.” Zuko recalls those days as if they’d been yesterday; days of wandering alone, without reason, without purpose, lost and alone. In those first few days after they’d lost the fight and Aang, Zuko had thought about giving up. But it had been Katara to touch his hand and remind him that there was still something to fight for. There was a reason to live. So, they had fought on the best that they could, until that last fight that had left them separated. Then he’d gotten word about Katara… His only thought had been to find her, to save her, but try as he might he could get no leads. That was until he’d found his uncle. “He’s been hiding here in plain sight this whole time,” he gestures around, as if there were more to this place beyond the four walls they reside within. 

“And no one turns him in?” Katara asks, surprised. 

“No one here knows him,” Zuko admits with a shake of his head. “And those who do would never turn him in.” Here in the poorest part of the Fire Nation, there is little love for the Phoenix King and his ideals. “He’s running a tea shop.” To his surprise, and delight, she smiles, thinking of the kind-hearted Iroh serving tea to the poorest of his nation’s inhabitants. “He was the one who said you must surely be at the palace.” The rest was history. After many weeks, no months, of planning, they had found their way into the palace and thus, found her. “You should rest…” he says next, noticing her pallor, noticing her pain. 

Katara smiles again, but she doesn’t fight him as she once might have. 

“I’ll come back later,” he assures her as he helps her back against the pillows, drawing the blankets up and over her frame. He turns to go, because he knows she needs the time, the space. “Sleep well,” he says softly, turning back to her, but finds she’s already drifted off back to sleep, bringing a small smile to his face. He slips from the room, leaving the door cracked open, so he or his uncle might hear her should she need something. 

“She woke?” 

It is his uncle there, a tray of tea in his hands. Zuko nods and the older man breaks out in a grin, delighted by the news. “Now, you must go and rest yourself, nephew.” Zuko opens his mouth to protest, but Iroh won’t hear a word of it. “No need, I will take care of her should she wake again,” he won’t allow his nephew to fall ill himself simply out of worry for the girl. “Go on now, I’ll wake you if we need you,” but they certainly would not need him. For a long moment they remain as they are, Zuko casting his gaze back towards the door that separates him from her.  “She needs you to be well rested, Zuko,” his uncle says softly, the only words that could ever make him change his mind. Only then does he nod, pausing for one moment to put his hand to his uncle’s shoulder, their twin colored eyes meeting for a long moment. Then he was gone, disappearing into the other room, once which he’d not occupied since returning with Katara some days ago.

As he climbs into his own bed, he rolls onto his side so he can face the only wall that separates them. He hopes, as he draws the blankets around him, that she sleeps soundly, that when he wakes next he will find her smiling, just as she always did. His eyes close and he drifts off, his last waking thought that of her blue eyes and just how brightly they once shined.

He would get that shine back if it was the last thing he did.

[peachymilkandcream]

Kingdom of Ash and Greed|Part 5|King Levi x Evelyn

WARNINGS: noncon/dubcon, big age difference, kidnapping, slavery, violence, power imbalance, implied somnophilia, forced pregnancies, mind breaking, yandere behaviour, yandere themes, etc.

===============================================

It turns out even Levi's plainest clothes were still too fine, the man was a king so it should've been obvious to her that in order to conceal herself she should've gone as the maid first.

The poor victim had been not much younger than she was, a wide-eyed girl who stared in disbelief that her master's muse had managed to escape and overpower her so easily.

Granted, the girl was frail as anything, and a former princess who was used to eating the best foods and have the best medical care of the time was no match for her.

Evelyn clothed the lifeless body in Levi's discarded garments, that particular maid hadn't done anything to her, so it wasn't fair that she should die and be found ashamed. The least Evelyn could do was offer her some last dignity before she was inevitably buried in a nameless grave.

However she couldn't dwell too long on that, time was wasting and someone else could walk into that room and discover her missing. She had to cover as much ground as quickly as possible before she was found out.

================================================

Perhaps it was the enemies he had made but Levi was nothing if not paranoid.

He had guards stationed at every possible entrance and exit to his castle, worried that some mercenary would come in and slit his throat.

That's just what it meant to be king.

In truth, he was already getting bored of his captive. She hadn't shown him that feistiness that would be so enjoyable to break. He had humiliated her, beaten her, used her as nothing more than a cum dumpster.

And yet she didn't fight him back.

Where was her fight? That spark of rebellion he could crush in the most cruel ways possible to ensure that his kingdom saw the true extent of his power and influence.

Maybe he should give up and pass her around to his servants to keep them loyal and happy. Take another lady or even one of his maids to his bed to keep this frustration at bay so he could focus on the task at hand, running his empire.

He was just about to back out of the idea when he spotted a cute little maid stealing into one of the closets where he held supplies for his servants to clean and take care of his castle.

Now was as good a time as ever. So he made his way quietly behind her and shut the door.

================================================

Evelyn felt him instead of seeing him, the closet was so dark. Her heart beat in her chest, she had been found out, already? What would he do to her? Cut her into bits and throw her to the dogs?

She was about to confess when his hands caressed her waist, feeling her body, his hot breath on her ear.

"Did you know how lucky you are...?" He kisses her ear, grinding slowly into her backside.

Not wanting to speak and give herself away she shakes her head, maybe he had mistaken her?

"I have a royal bitch upstairs with a prime cunt to breed, and yet...your king has taken an interest in you. A lowly peasant and maid. You should feel honored..."

In the darkness he had assumed she was another woman, one of his poor maids. And as horrible as it was, Evelyn wished it was another one of his maids and not her in this position.

He reached under her skirts and pulled them up, taking the little cloth concealing her most sensitive areas and moving it aside.

Only then did she feel that age old feeling of panic rise up in her, her breathing increasing audibly.

"Shh...shh...I know it's scary...just don't fight it..."

All of a sudden he pushes into her, causing her to lean against the walls of the closet to keep herself upright, cries and tears pouring out.

Levi groans and starts to move, one hand covering her mouth while the other held her hips in place. "There you go. Calm down, no need to panic. You're doing your king a favour, don't you understand?"

HIs hips moved faster, the only sound her muffled sobs and the sound of her arousal easing the way for her.

Before she knew it his cum was dripping down her legs as they trembled, Levi sighing as he finally left her body.

"I'll see you're rewarded well for your service to your king."

Just as suddenly as he came Levi left her alone, not even bothering to look back at his victim, not knowing who she really was.

Evelyn was taught to see the good in everything, and while it was hard in this scenario at least she had fooled even Levi that she was just a regular maid and not his "royal bitch" as he had called her.

===============================================

Quietly she left the closet and continued to flee, acting casual as she passed guards who viewed her as just another maid in service to their king. Another pretty face Levi liked to surround himself by so he'd feel good about himself.

That was until she was stopped.

"And where are you going?"

She takes a deep breath. "His Majesty requested fresh flowers as a humiliation tactic against the former princess. I was going to the garden to pick some."

"Humiliation tactic? Don't lie to me girl."

"He said he wanted her to have a taste of the outside before stripping it away again. You'll have to ask him."

"I think I will. Wait right there."

The guard leaves, naively thinking that she would wait for him to confirm with Levi.

As soon as he's out of sight she quickly walks through the gate and out into freedom.

She would escape.

[v-arbellanaris]

on divine justinia

Justinia V will be remembered as one of the most progressive Divines in the history of the Chantry. Before her untimely death at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, she made strides to break down barriers for both mages and elves, as well as encouraging free thought among the Maker’s many children. For her views, she won as many enemies as she did supporters.

-- World of Thedas Vol 2.

PART ONE of a series, exploring Divine Justinia’s political stance. Was she really as progressive as people claimed?

Firstly, before we even dive into any analysis, we should define the word ‘progressive’. In the most base of definitions, it implies progress -- a gradual betterment. As a widely accepted definition, someone whose politics advocate for social reform. 

PART ONE - LELIANA'S SONG. / PART TWO - DRAGON AGE II. / PART THREE - THE MASKED EMPIRE.

Leliana’s Song DLC

This is where we first meet the future Divine Justinia V. We first meet her as Revered Mother Dorothea; she appears literally as a salvation to Leliana in her darkest hour, after Marjolaine has betrayed her, after Raleigh has tortured and beaten her. To make the metaphor even more glaringly obvious, we don’t even see her face at first, we hear her voice and see her as a glowing light coming down from a ceiling in a blank room. She’s clearly being painted as a ray of hope for Leliana, some sense of salvation -- (I’m very much getting the Maker helps those who helps themselves vibe from it) -- and when Leliana finally “gets” to her, she tells Leliana she’s safe. 

It’s important to keep in mind that this is what Dorothea means to Leliana. This is what Leliana sees and thinks about when she’s talking to and interacting with Dorothea. To Leliana, Dorothea is hope and safety, sympathy and compassion, and ultimately, a path to salvation. 

And though she may be those things to Leliana on a personal level, these traits have little impact on Dorothea's politics, which are influenced by the Grand Game and specifically how well a person can play it. This is made especially salient in the next scene.

Dorothea tells Leliana that she came to Ferelden without permission in order to fix her mistakes. The mistake she’s referring to is giving Marjolaine the papers containing Orlesian intel, which were then used to frame and implicate Leliana. It’s implied that this was the result of a seduction on Marjolaine’s part.

When Leliana questions whether Dorothea is trying to get her to steal the documents back, Dorothea denies it, just barely -- but then admits that there is “unfinished business” with Marjolaine, equating the documents she gave to Marjolaine with Leliana’s feelings of hurt and betrayal. She suggests that Leliana might want to get revenge for being “hurt so dearly” and offers to provide both Marjolaine and Raleigh’s location. She suggests that Leliana “help Orlais, and yourself”. At the same time, she claims that she doesn’t want Leliana to cause more harm to people, and yet, who was it that sends Leliana after Marjolaine in the first place? Who was it that sends Leliana to fetch the papers in the first place? With what Leliana just went through, Dorothea likely has no illusions about what Leliana is capable of -- or what she might want to do to Marjolaine, in the name of vengeance. In fact, Dorothea specifically addresses those feelings in order to convince Leliana to "help" both of them. Sending someone capable of murder -- with the motivation to kill -- after Marjolaine after tritely telling them that you don't want them to hurt more people...

Is she giving Leliana a chance do better or does she simply... not care what happens to Marjolaine as long as she gets the documents back?

This is the darkest moment of Leliana’s life. And though Dorothea shows great sympathy for Leliana’s feelings, despite her words, the actions she suggests essentially use Leliana against Marjolaine, all the while playing it off as though she doesn’t really need Leliana’s help, and this isn’t really about her at all, but it’s about Leliana’s emotions and struggles. But getting the papers back benefits Dorothea. The papers could be thrown into the sea or destroyed but Dorothea specifically pushes Leliana to retrieve them, in such a way that makes it look like that’s not what she’s asking for at all.

As Leliana, we get to quiz Dorothea and we get to see some insight into Dorothea herself. She calls the Ferelden rebellion “the Orlesian-Ferelden war” and states “Many on both sides have been reluctant to abandon the hatreds of that conflict.” 

The “conflict” she’s referring to is, of course, the Orlesian occupation of Ferelden and Ferelden fighting back against that occupation. Ferelden was colonised -- I struggle to understand how the violent occupation of a nation can be equated to resisting such oppression. But, I suppose that’s typical Chantry rhetoric that we see often; we see similar commentary about any state sanctioned/Chantry sanctioned violence against elves, such as the Exalted Marches, and, later, about the mage rebellion. Dorothea does inextricably link what’s bad for Orlais to what’s bad for the Chantry; unsurprising, considering the Andrastian Chantry is used to prop up Orlesian imperialism (read here for this thought provoking meta by mllemaenaed!).

Leliana asks what happens to all the people who followed her out of the dungeon. Dorothea says that some will be turned over to the city guard, presumably of Denerim where the story is set. Dorothea does state that some of them have more than paid for their petty crimes/ The "some of them" she's referring to specifically is Silas, who wants to join the Chantry. Ah yes, the sign of true repentance... and I suppose that everyone else just isn’t sorry enough? Or being tortured and/or sexually assaulted by Raleigh and his men somehow isn’t enough to pay for petty crimes? Hmm...

Conclusions, so far:

Her politics so far don't seem to be progressive -- the implications that Marjolaine seduced her (and thus, she has an active sex life) is perhaps a bit taboo for a priest, but her politics themselves don't necessarily seem progressive at this point.

She believes those who turn to the Chantry have truly repented, but others who do not, have not. She paints the Ferelden rebellion as a two-sided conflict, rather than an acknowledgement of Orlais as a hostile colonising force in Ferelden. None of these beliefs are progressive -- they're standard beliefs of Orlais and the Orlesian Chantry.

She's aware Leliana is a criminal here, but a criminal with uses, someone she can leverage against Marjolaine -- and she does, with devastating effect. Dorothea sends Leliana after Marjolaine fully aware that it could result in Marjolaine's death -- and is either naively hopeful about the result or entirely apathetic. She plays the Game and she plays it well -- well enough to survive having sold out Orlais, well enough to manipulate Leliana into working for her for the next ten years.

This is a master of the Grand Game.

Silas: What about you? Leliana: Me? Nobody cares what I want. Silas: You should.

[shadowfoxsilver]

Secrets untold of light and dark (Part one)

(Intro)

“Where is she…”

It had been what…Months? Since his sister was stolen away from him that fateful night. Chaotic had left the planet once destroying the facility itself so no more could be made. How many had he cared for that were now turned to ash, how many had he watched over that were long distant memories, how many had he seen that no longer existed? Too many. But now one was out there. The only one left. His sister. His only sibling. Where was she now? He shouldn’t care. But he did. He didn’t want to. But he did.

He shook his head as he took flight in bird form yet again to search across other planets in space. Surely by now he’d come upon something useful but all he could find was boring planets devoid of any life and signs of life. No matter how deep into space he’d go it seemed like all he’d find was another disappointment waiting there. Even if it was pretty, he didn’t really care enough to stay long. He was a traveler now. Flying across the universe seeking any signs of his kidnapped sibling and see if she’s being taken care of. Not that it mattered. She was so sick she probably didn’t last long anyway. He’d be the last one again! Just as it should be.

As he flew across the universe, he noticed an odd rift spinning within the darkness. A rift between dimensions, if that’s what it was called, was just there in space. How peculiar. Was someone trying to get his attention this far out? It seemed highly unlikely…But he should go check it out just in case it was something important. With a shrug of his wings, he swooped down and disappeared into the dimensional rift. It was rather dark….Oh?

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could see a strange figure staring at him from the shadows. A creature who looked like a mix of many beings, but too dark to fully see. Multiple eyes staring at him.

“Ah! A new creature to absorb and steal power from. It’s been a looong while since I had a fresh meal..” The stranger gleamed from the darkness with several different voices mixed in. “I am a chaotic godly being of sorts. No one has beaten me.” They cackled ominously from many different places. “I’ll beat you too.” A darker voice.

“You can’t beat me.” Chaotic replied matter of factly. “No ones ever defeated me. I have powers beyond your comprehension.” He hissed slightly from his beak. “Though I could make some use of your so called powers…” He tried to smirk, but it wasn’t working too well. After all, he’d need all the powers he could get if he wanted to rescue his sister.

“Hah! Don’t make me laugh. You will lose all the same!” The creature howled as they spoke. “But sure, let’s see who’s stronger.” They opened up eyes all over the dimension, several jagged smiles appearing all around Chaotic.

Chaotic narrowed his eyes, but his markings began glowing as he flew upwards and then dived down at super speed with his talons opened and sharp ends pointing down as he aimed to strike the creature before they could make any move against him.

His plan worked a little too well as he felt his nails dig into the darkened form and grab something from it before he pulled away. He flew out of the dimensional rift as it collapsed into itself. The godly being was likely immortal, but surely was badly injured at least. He glanced at the swirling orb clenched in his talons. It felt…Powerful. Full of electricity and darkness. He looked around and saw a planet that seemed safe enough to land on.

Chaotic landed awkwardly on one foot, then changed back to his usual form and examined the orb closer. Could this be the source of the chaotic creatures power? If he broke it…Would he get the same power? Only one way to find out. He gripped it firmly in his hand, then crushed it with ease. The swirling disappeared into his hand. ‘What a waste’, he thought. ‘Nothing is happening.’ He assumed, frowning in annoyance. But then he felt it.

A tingling feeling on his fingertips. Small arcs of electricity started to move across his fur. His disappointment began to fade as he began to feel even more stronger, a sinister smile forming across his face even as markings turned green and lightning bolt patterns mixed into what he already had. He was too eager about his new powers to notice the wings he took pride in fall free from his arms, the golden feathers falling to the ground as if it signify his own kind of fall leaving only black feathers scattered across his arms.

The pain that hit his back did make him collapse though, as new golden wings formed but were too small for flight. He stared at them, flapped them a little, but scoffed as he floated off the ground. His tail now resembling the one he had when in bird form. Who needed wings when you could float. But…He needed something to ensure his powers could be used fully.

Drawing upon the newfound energy he now held at his fingertips, he channeled it into his palms and held them close together. When he opened his hands, a peculiar crystal now floated between them. A chaotic diamond gemstone filled with all kinds of chaotic forces. It could do whatever he needed it to or follow the desires and wishes of any who held it. And he gave it a name.

The Nega Crystal.

And now he had a new plan all the same. Locate his sister and if she’s still around, prove to her he’s gotten much stronger now. He just had to find her as he gazed across the horizon and watched the sun rise to the rise of a self proclaimed chaotic deity of sorts. Chaotic himself.

[nonbayanary]

"Wraith" [my SENA-sona]

Trigger Warnings: Bullying, Spirits, Death, Suicide, Abuse Trauma, Ghosts, Hauntings, Insanity, Revenge

In an alternate universe where a young Kobayakawa Sena dies from being beaten to death by his bullies, the ghost, only known as "Wraith," rises from the ashes of his corpse.

Wraith is a manifestation of Sena's rage, resentment, and grief. He is merely a shadow of Sena's former self—a husk of the child's soul, with memories of abuse plaguing him.

Being a resentful spirit, Wraith is stronger than other spirits of his type. The theory is that, the more a person represses their negative emotions in life, the more powerful their dark energy will be in death. These spirits will be even more powerful if their deaths are violent, like Sena's death at the hands of his bullies.

His bullies didn't mean to kill him—they just wanted to beat him a little. And yet Sena's death is tragic and painful all the same.

He haunts his neglectful parents and his bullies, driving them to either insanity or to suicide.

He resents his abusive, good-for-nothing parents. He's told them over and over about his bullies, and they did nothing. His parents verbally and emotionally abused him, treating him like their emotional punching bag. This led to his low self esteem, which rendered him vulnerable to bullies in the first place.

Wraith hates his bullies, the pieces of shit who took everything away from him. Even as his bullies are children, he shows them no remorse, as Wraith is only the leftover resentment of Sena's soul.

The only person Wraith does not hate nor hurt is the young Anezaki Mamori. She was his only trusted companion when Sena lived. Even after Sena's death, Wraith honors this friendship of theirs.

It takes thirty years for Wraith to exact his revenge.

His parents go to jail for child neglect, and he haunts them in their nightmares. His mother kills herself with a shiv, and his father dies in a prison riot—killed by other inmates.

His bullies die in a shorter time. He haunts every single one of them, both in their dreams and in their waking hours. He does this for years until one by one, they all commit suicide.

With Wraith's revenge complete, he has nothing else to do. So he chooses to follow Anezaki Mamori around, and protect her from bad people and spirits alike.

Mamori sees him sometimes, at the corners of her peripheral vision. She used to feel pangs of grief and pain during the first years when she saw him. But she slowly got used to seeing him near, so much that she feels comfort in his presence.

Sometimes, Mamori's classmates tell her she's haunted. Her only response is to smile fondly. "I know."

Mamori speaks to Wraith sometimes, when she's alone. He never replies. He has nothing to say—but it does not bother her. His actions matter more than his words, and she knows he's been keeping her safe all these years.

In some cases, resentful spirits dissipate once the deaths of their murderers/abusers are equally violent, if not more. Wraith's parents and bullies have all died by violent and tragic means.

And yet Wraith remains on this plane of existence. And he slowly realizes: it's his attachment to Mamori that keeps him tethered to this plane.

Gradually, he grows more protective and fond of Mamori. He still does not talk, but he communicates in other ways. He nods, shakes his head, tilts his head, points his chin, and all the other things Sena used to do when he lived. It hits Mamori with pangs of nostalgia for their childhood—before Sena died. But Mamori still feels grateful, for not everyone stays with their loved ones after their deaths.

Wraith's existence begins with rage, resentment, and grief. But it slowly becomes a story of staying for one's loved ones in order to protect them. From a tale of revenge, it becomes a story where not even death can part a spirit from his beloved sister.

[well-gosh-diddly-darnit-minyard]

azrael had. no one. ophelia i need you to know that i can and will cry over him. please i adore him :(

can you tell me a little more about him?

he looks like david kushner because i came up with his character while listening to Miserable Man (it encapsulates his feelings for Ashe and the others very well). he grew up getting regularly beaten by his father, while his mother sat back and ignored him. he realized at the age of seven that happiness was going to be denied him for forever unless he left, so he started to prepare to leave and left at thirteen. here’s so lore for you:

he has a brother. his name is Malik. Malik is younger than him and refused to leave with Azrael because he thought that working for the Shadorians was the only correct approach to the current political climate. he stayed while Azrael left.

eventually, their parents sent Malik to the mainland to try and find the most powerful Fae he could, so that they could drain their magic and attempt to experiment for the first time with proper resources. he did a little identity work (because he didn’t exist as a Fae at the time, nothing on record about him) and worked his way up to being a magical trainer in the palace once his own immense powers has awakened. as the name suggests, he can manipulate water and is best with oceans and seas. seeing the big picture and all that.

so.

he’s working in the palace, living there, waiting for a Fae with enough power to become important enough to be sent to the king. and one day, the king’s daughter brings someone in.

and it’s a human girl named Ashe who was just attacked by a group of Shadorians who were trying to take her in and either harvest her magic or silence her forever, nothing with that much untapped power should exist. they sensed that godlike ability in this puny creature and tried to kill her because god help them if she ever learned how to use it.

and Malik is assigned to train her.

having grown up being taught everything about Faer magic and submagicks and categories of power, Malik knows true ability in magic when he sees it. he also takes a liking to her, to this raucous, stormy, cloud covered girl from the human world. he takes a liking to her unkempt black hair and her deathly pale skin and her deep blue eyes, they remind him of the ocean, the ocean is his home, it is his fingerprint. she’s sarcastic and funny and loud and always smiling, she’s strong and capable and she just doesn’t see it yet. she’s a tidal wave and he’s drowning in her.

Malik obsessed over training her. he wants to tap into that power she has that’s locked away in the back of her mind. he wants to see her be uncontrollable. he shows her his power, he teaches her to be a weapon, he holds her hand at formal dinners and dances with her at grand balls held to promote the war effort. he falls in love with her, all while knowing he has to kill her to harvest her magic.

so he panics, he begins frantically searching for a way to harvest magic without killing the source, he finds out that the wings are of utmost importance. if he can cut them off, he cuts off the magic to the rest of her body. if you take away the beating heart you remove the blood flow. so he takes her to the palace’s highest security dungeons in the middle of the night, sedates her, and cuts off her wings as she’s drowning in her own mind. he takes her magic, almost all of it, leaving only enough to keep her body from shutting down. Leo walks in and sees this, but Malik was certain to wear a mask and layer up so he would look different. he pretends on a whim, on a last thought, to be his brother, his brother who is untraceable and would never be connected to him before he could flee back to the island with Ashe’s wings.

(for further context around what’s about to happen, basically getting your magic and your wings is like hitting puberty. you get it around thirteen but Leo never got hers and it was assumed she had no magic, but she wasn’t sent to the human world because her father was the king and loved her to much to force her to go anywhere else. she had a little bit of magic on the outside, but the rest was locked away similarly to Ashe’s)

Leo explodes with power. this is her best friend, her only friend for months now, and the one thing that made her alive, truly alive, is gone. all due to whoever this bastard is. so she remembers the name, Azrael; angel of death. fucker. she tries to kill him but she doesn’t have any control over her magic or any training to recall. he narrowly escapes, just before the cell catches fire and explodes. Ashe barely survives and is bedridden for weeks. the toll of losing magic is awful. she can’t hear, can’t see, can’t feel, can’t smell or taste or even think. she is a barely conscious husk floating in darkness for weeks before she begins to recover. it’s like losing a limb, and it is, really. two limbs gone, like someone removed her heart and lungs and brain and sent her on her way to a shallow grave. she wants to kill him, she wants to murder Azrael for this.

she finds him after three months of searching. she tells him what she’s going to do to him. she tells him he can’t escape this. and he tells her to sit down. he tells her about his childhood and about Malik and she wonders if she should trust him over Malik, it all fits too well. how would he know what Malik’s magic is? how would he know about Malik’s family, which Ashe herself doesn’t even know about? and Malik reveals that he followed her, he barges in and says that Azrael is lying, come on Ashe, you have your axe, kill him, kill him. and Azrael, who is sick of life, sick of loneliness, figures he might as well go out with a bang. and he tells her to choose. choose who to trust. Malik is more frantic now, he’s screaming at her, and Azrael thinks of how his face looks like their father’s, the way his mouth twists as he screams. and he can’t help himself, he steps in front of Ashe right as Malik raises a hand against her.

i have to go so i hope this finds you well, gonna be gone for three days but you can still send me asks about this! i love opening my phone and finding asks, definitely my drug of choice 🫶 have fun on the bell site in my absence, my beloved mutual

[shimmerbeasts]

You know what? Fuck it

🎲 for Mizora and Jaheira

I want the K||Accepting.

7. A romantic kiss.

What could be considered romantic tended to vastly differ between a fiend and other species of Faerun. In fact, what might be read as romantic from an uncritical angle, was usually more akin to a sudden rush of endorphins and heightened arousal for the fiend in question. Usually triggered by a massive absorption of negative emotions like fear, panic, fright or anger, coupled with the sight of carnage.

Mizora was currently in the thrall of that emotional high after Jaheira and she had beaten down a surprise ambush of a group of Absolute Cultists on the route to Baldur's Gate. While the tadpole gang had been able to take out Ketheric Thorm, it seemed that for many of the survivors of the Moonrise massacre, they were now the enemy number one and many of them hungered for retribution.

The air was thick with a haze of smells. Ironrich blood, so loaded you might throw up if you took too deep a breath. Frosty chills from several bodies covered in rhyme and contorted from the thralls of the Hunger of Hadar, Mizora had trapped a large chunk of the Cultists in. The bodies, which had not been eviscerated by her devouring, cold and toxic darkness and Jaheira's thick, unruly thorns, had been ripped to pieces by the claws of a panther and reduced to ash by the single gesture of a corpse-blue hand.

Mizora was remarkably untouched by the blood as, for once, she had not thrown herself into the fray and instead kept her distance while Jaheira had leapt straight into the thicket of the ambush. As the Cambion looked at the panther, her red eyes glowed with fiery appreciation and a hunger, which differed from the ways, she inspected the corpses. The panther's paws and muzzle were dripping with blood.

Soon enough though, the animal's body was enveloped by golden light before with a sharp tearing sound and a puddle of viscera and blood, the panther shed its animalistic shape and in its place stood Jaheira herself. The half-elf was dripping with blood, her hands and arms drenched in red and even her mouth coated in viscera. The flush, making Mizora's cheeks purple, returned, darkening them even more. She gazed at the half-elf with a sense of sick pleasure and appreciation as if Jaheira had just shown her a colour she really liked.

"You have got a little something there, my dear." Mizora stepped closer and reached for Jaheira's face with her hand. "Let me help you with that." The Cambion traced her fingers over the half-elf's bloodied feature, collecting the red, which had not yet completely dried and crusted up around her mouth. Popping her fingers into her mouth, Mizora suckled off the blood with a satisfied hum as if she had just shared in a kill.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look like this, Jaheira?"

Mizora's voice was barely above a whisper. Her hand cupped the harper's chin, her thumb tracing across her lips, now mostly clean of the blood. The Cambion stepped closer. Her wings opened wide before they gingerly and carefully wrapped themselves around Jaheira's body, encasing her in a warm, leathery cocoon.

"Don't be afraid", Mizora cooed, "I promise, I will be gentle."

Her hand tightened around the harper's jawline and Mizora guided their heads closer to one another, even bending down a touch to make the following kiss easier. As their lips touched, Jaheira would hear a brief whooshing sound. It was Mizora's wings, trembling ever so slightly. Her kiss was soft and almost a bit succulent as the Cambion nibbled at Jaheira's lips, though wisely kept her tongue with its sharp hooks on the surface to itself. A low purr originated from Mizora's throat as she gave the harper a firm, yet gentle and carefully controlled kiss, which might be compared to a cat softly sniffing your nose.

@harpershigh

[kikioffe-prime]

locked room

One shot of stellaron hunters being like family.

"Bladie finnaly sent me a messege back" Kafka turned to Silverwolf.

"What does this say? Should i teleport you to him?" She made a bubblegum baloon before it popped.

"He said 'Im fine' but it took him quite a while to type it out so yea. I gues you should teleport me to him" Silver nodded before taking Kafka's phone and typing something.

"Oh ho he is in a closed off room. I can only get you outside of the door." She handed the phone back.

"Looks like he isnt doing all that well" Kafka turned off the phone and put it in her pocket.

"Yea, he clealry was aware of us wanting to see him" She then teleported the woman onto the closest area to the closed off room. It was pretty dark around. A hallway empty. The building looked like it was recently abonded.

She stood in place trying to listen in and see if theer was anyone in the area. Her look she could hear someone's fast breath. Bingo. SHe slowly and quietly got closer to the sound.

She managed to get close to a door. Blade was isnide but Silver did say the room was locked from insdie.

"...Kafka.." A quite and weak voice came from isndie the room. She smiled and sat down. Her back pressing onto the door.

"Hi Bladie. You said you were fine but wanted to see for myself" He didnt respond for a good while. His breath has gotten slower and quieter.

"...Im fine.." He finnaly responded. Kafka knew it was a lie.

"Bladie, listen. You dont have to act all strong and tuff you know? If anything happens i am here." He didnt respond. But Kafka knew Blade listened.

"I consider you family. You, Silver, Sam and even Ellio. I will stay here until you are willing to leave" She could hear him move. There was a groan. Kafka could only imagine that he was wounded.

"...hmm... okey" Kafka stood up as she could hear Blade grab the handle and slowly pushe the door open before almsot falling on the floor. SHe grabbed him right away.

"There there. You got beaten up pretty badly hmm?" She pulled him up. Helping him stand.

"I will text Silver to get us both back. Just stay with me until then" She pulled out her phone. Blade stayed silent for a long while. Eeven after being teleported back.

His wounds werent all that terrible but tehy werent all that good either. He fell alseep after being rebandaged. Silver Wolf gave him YEt another plushie she won from a claw machine. It was a black long cat.

SIlver got back to gaming after giving the man the prize. She had no sue for it. SHe didnt care for the goal but for the fun while reaching it. Sam took notice of that.

"You will drown that man in plushies one day" He chuckled ashe handed her some bags of chips and a bottle of carbonated sode.

"He cant sleep without having atleast one around. And seeing how awfully he treats his phone i doubt the plush will last one week." She said as she opened one of the bags.

"Oh and thanks for the food" Sam simply nodded and left and walked up to the sleeping man.

"Hmm...oh" He swithly left and came back with a soft blanket. Covering the man up.

"Sleep well little hunter." He then quietly left the room and entered the one where Kafka and Ellio were discusing something.

"Oh you are back. How did Silver Wolf react to the little present?" Kafka asked first. To which Sam just got a thumbs up. A typical reaction from SIlver.

"And how about Blade. How is he doing?" Ellio asked next. They arent around all that much but they still care alot Alot.

"He is sleeping well. Silver Wolf once again handed him another giant plushie. This time a long black cat...noo i wont call it 'My brother' Kafka" The man looked towards the woman who laughed in responce.

"Well i mean, he normaly sleeps only like 2 hours, and always it ends with him waking up in cold sweat or screaming. Thats only one way i can have him sleep and not faint in a middle of a mission from exhaustion"

Ellio nodded to the information. "buy him soft thing.Noted"

"You dont ahev to , Im sure Silver Wolf will soon win another giant teddy bear or something again" Kafka reasured the other.

"Yea soon she will burry the poor guy in them" Sam chuckled.

The three continued the conversation, while Silver Wolf was trying to defeat 'Otto Apocalypse' in that one game of hers while Blade was sleeping relativly peacfully. Covered in plushies and a blanket.