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cloveroctobers · 11 months

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OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 4. Ruby Matthews

A/N: yes it is I! Back with another Ruby piece because why the hell not? Thanks for all the new love on my previous works surrounding this layered character. She’s been fun to watch and it’s only right that I do something else for this final season. Thoughts about it? There were great moments for sure but I don’t think it’s my favorite season, I’ll probably have to go back and watch to fully determine that. I still wanted more for lots of the characters and this season seemed to miss something and it’s not me fighting for the main ships like some of you are arguing over lol. Otis needs to be by his damn self for awhile! + Ruby deserves better than the way he treated her, I’ll say that and know she’ll find her person in the near future once she experiences more growth for sure. Anyways this show was gold! RIP.

PROMPTS from HERE + I’m using: caught in the rain + crunching leaves + “you’ve got leaves in your hair.”

WARNINGS: Reader has a name + fem pronouns. Ruby being a little bitchy towards reader + hints of a potential romance?

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚. ⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚. ⋆｡‧

Thanks to Milou's god-mother, she was able to clock out early from the book shop for the evening since a storm was brewing according to the older woman. It's funny really how Milou tended not to pay much attention to science or the weather whether-*wink* in conversation or just the mere thought of the subject, giving that she was surrounded by a bunch of people that worked in that field. Her absent mother was a meterologist who got a kick out of chasing storms, her late father was a broadcast meteorologist, her paternal uncle and ex boyfriend of her god-mother; who also happened to be her mother's best friend is a GIS analyst and finally her cousin and god-brother was studying to be a hydrologist.

As for Milou? She has no clue what she wanted to be in life, she was simply taking it one day at a time and going with the flow. Which she of course got shit for but she knew she loved books and tattoos. I mean hey! look at her god-mother, she didn’t have this goal board of being something fancy growing up she just stuck to what she loved. She came from a small family, a professor for a father, a step-father who worked in a boutique for two decades, and a mother as a florist. Milou’s god-mother always knew she loved books and candles so she eventually got into owning a book shop, making and selling candles on the side.

She did quite alright with her life if you asked Milou. Milou felt she was similar to her god-mother more than her own mother and figured with each day that the sun rose it would all work out…at least she hoped.

In the distance she sees someone dressed in red tweed attire, walking alongside their bike as Milou drives down the hill. It doesn’t take her long to realize that it’s Ruby Matthews and a smirk spreads on her lips then as she presses her foot on the gas. She thinks about speeding right pass her, turning the stereo up to make Ruby’s attention focused only on the back of her ride but it was interesting nonetheless to see Ruby on a bike instead in her own car.

“What’s this? Not the Queen of Moorfield doing actual labor? Where’s the Royal Chauffeurs?” Milou jokes from the driver’s side.

Immediately Ruby rolls her eyes, stopping in her tracks as she stretched a sarcastic smile over her pink painted lips, “oh Milou, haven’t you learned that harassment doesn’t look nice on you? That can lead to loads of things like imprisonment or pillory.”

“That’s extreme, yeah?” Milou tilts her head or the side while letting her wrists rest over the top of the steering wheel, “You call it harassment, I call it having a conversation with my neighbor.”

Ruby scoffs, “what makes you think I want to talk to someone like you?”

“I dunno something tells me you could use a friend…but if you prefer lonely strolls around town drinking that let me guess, pistachio latte on your own then don’t mind me.” Milou shrugs, pushing her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose, “good day then, your highness.”

Ruby was more of a decaf tea person since coffee stains your teeth but when stress calls so does caffeine apparently!

And with that Ruby watches as Milou attempts to speed off but the smoke and spluttering coming from her car didn’t sound normal. Part of that gave Ruby satisfaction before she could let the sadness fill in more than anything.

Milou’s been Ruby’s neighbor since she was about nine, moving in from New Zealand, and Ruby always liked how Milou moved to her own drum. There was a time where Ruby considered being Milou’s friend but Ruby was whisked off to camp where she met Sarah— “O” and that changed everything Ruby knew about friendships.

Ruby coughed and fanned the smoke away up ahead…she honestly hoped there wouldn’t be a fire but Milou seemed to take her time kicking the door open and out the way. Cautiously Ruby made some steps forward as Milou whacked at her car a bit after popping the hood open.

“Look at that, your get away wasn’t as stunt like as you hoped.” Ruby mockingly pouted while Milou side-eyed her.

Milou adjusted the cuffed back denim bucket hat on her head saying, “and what about you? I haven’t seen you ride a bike since we were knee-high.”

‘You still are,’ Ruby thought to herself as she peered at the shorter girl.

“Decided to try something new for college and it’s better for the environment.” Ruby stood up straight as she stated her claim.

Milou snorted at that, “you caring for the environment? Not likely.”

“Excuse me? You don’t know my interests.”

“Course I do. I pay more attention than you think regardless if we attend the same college or not. We lived next door to each other for years, I know enough.” Milou replied as she pushed away from her steaming car.

Milou stood by Ruby who held her analyzing stare, “your chains broken by the way.”

“I’ve noticed, thank you! Why else would I be walking?” Ruby sassed, “It’s not like this street is the best runway with its awful incline.”

Milou clicked her tongue and pointed, “Anything to strengthen the glutes.”

Ruby swallows to refrain from traveling her eyes elsewhere. Milou maybe short as ever but she’s always been athletic as a kid and it didn’t seem to change now into their teens, let’s just say that.

“I am the view, these hills better be proud that I’m even passing through.”

“…This is the only route to our neighborhood.”

“Do you have an answer for everything?!”

Milou laughs with a shrug of her shoulders deciding to switch the minor problem at hand, “I can probably fix that for you.”

“I know how to fix a bike! I just don’t have the tools…”

Milou sighs as she squats down near Ruby who takes a step back and sideways to give the girl some room.

“It’s bent…you’re going to need new chain.” Milou observes.

“That’s just great, as if this day couldn’t get any worse.”

Milou stands up at this, “want to talk about it?”

Ruby sips from her cup and pops her tongue, “Not particularly no.”

“We got a long way home on foot. Are you suuure?” Milou backs up towards her car to retrieve her things.

“Sorry? We?”

“Yes. This thing isn’t going anywhere, my transmission’s been on the brink of blowing at any moment.” Milou says nonchalantly while Ruby widens her eyes, “I’ll have to reach out to a friend to tow this baby up for me.”

“Transmission?! Isn’t that a safety hazard?”

“Oh certainly but there’s not much money in the bank to get a new car so…perhaps I’ll build me one in the near future for cheaper.”

“Wait…you know how to do that?”

“I’m a person of many traits my love.”

“Not your love.”

“Not yet.” Milou winks, popping a lolly into her mouth, “want to leave your bike in my trunk? My guy can fix it up for you and you’ll get it back in a day or two?”

“Thanks for the offer but I don’t know or trust this friend of yours. They could be a thief for all I know.” Ruby sticks her nose up in the air.

Milou snorts as she placed a hand on her chest, “does it really seem like I’d hang out with kleptomaniacs?”

Ruby now side eyes Milou staring at her finger tattoos mainly and shrugs, “who truly knows? You probably hang out at sketchy bars, smoke by dumpsters, and illegally race cars on the outskirts of town.”

“Wooow you really do know me,” Milou exhales, “I don’t smoke because I’d like to keep my teeth and lungs. And I don’t race cars anymore for income after crashing and breaking my collarbone last year driving that sweet corvette. So sorry babes, you’re wrong. Is it my turn to assume why you’re in a sour mood?”

Ruby pursed her lips knowing she was laying on the bitchiness but it just seemed to ooze out whenever she had interactions with Milou. It’s not like the girl’s ever had one main reason why they went at it but Milou was never one to take anyone’s shit, despite having her nose in a book reading or doodling and seeming checked out. She had Ruby figured out and Ruby couldn’t say the same with Milou, which is why she did not enjoy that much.

At least that’s what she portrayed.

“If I had to guess…Otis?”

Ruby scoffs and begins walking off.

“What did he do this time?” Milou spins on her feet, quickly locking her doors before following after the long haired girl and says, “Doesn’t seem like he’s been around much lately.”

Ruby spews over her shoulder, “And how exactly would you know that Hm? Are you proving my assumptions by being a weirdo and stalking me?”

“Never. It’s what you show and I’m not just talking about your socials…thanks for suddenly deciding to unblock me by the way.” Milou chats, “I’m talking about your energy, it’s different. Well except for you insulting me this entire time, you do seem a bit sadder these days. I just want to make sure you’re alright is all.”

Ruby feels her shoulders sink in a bit, a little surprised that anyone’s noticed this. Yes she’s been going through a heartbreak, friends being distant, dealing with seeing a old bully thrive in their new supposed “helpful,” role at this new school where Ruby can’t find her footing…it’s all been a bit much and she didn’t feel like talking about it to anyone.

She won’t ever let anyone see her as weak even if the weight was starting to crush her.

Yet here comes Milou in her cool rina sawayama glory, sensing that something’s been up with Ruby and who knows how long she’s noticed.

Milou wasn’t a friend or really an enemy and Ruby wasn’t sure if she could even consider Milou just her neighbor.

It’s quiet now besides the crunching of leaves that Milou makes a show of stomping on as they walk through town together. Milou doesn’t mind the silence or even press the issue but she always had a habit of being honest, “too honest,” in her mother’s eyes but Milou had no problem letting Ruby know what she sees.

No matter what the wannabe diva thought of her.

Ruby pounds her feet after a wave of leaves fly back into her vision after Milou’s just kicked another set up into the air up ahead. The wind seemed to shift not long after, whipping some of those copper and sun dried leaves right into Ruby’s face.

“Hey! Stop that! You’re gonna ruin my outfit.”

“Aw c’mon, it’s awful already isn’t it?” Milou teased as she scanned over the appearance of the girl who suddenly ripped off her glasses.

“I have you know this outfit was made by my mum.” Ruby proudly said as she shoved her bike to the side and strutted right up to Milou, towering over her, “I picked the fabric, tweaked it afterwards just to my liking and I know I look damn good wearing it because of how long and the care it took to make it so I’d shut my mouth if I were you.”

Milou moved the lollipop around with her tongue, slowly eyeing Ruby up and down that Ruby almost had to hold her breath at how agonizingly slow Milou scanned her frame.

She smirked at Ruby once she met her brown eyes again and playfully raised her hands up in the air, “relax babes, I’m just having a bit of fun, just like with the leaves. And I know Mrs. Matthews’ has quite the craft, she taught me how to fix my old hat when I was twelve.”

“What?” Ruby frowned, “when? How?”

“That old lime green hat that I used to wear a lot as a kid? Ripped it right across the top after it got stuck in a tree branch. Your mum witnessed it on her way to work.”

“I don’t even want to know what you were doing for that to happen but…mum really stopped to help and she didn’t bother to tell me?” Ruby tried to wrack her brain to remember if her mum ever mentioned it but tending to a sick father and a mother always at work, usually means the conversations happened to be pretty brief.

Always has been but that never stopped Ruby from loving her mum. She was always the kind hearted one out of the two which translated well being a nurse but Ruby definitely got her fire from her father.

“People have a lot on their minds and I hear it gets worse as adulthood comes along so we better enjoy the better memories now…plus it happened forever ago but I’m always thankful for your mom’s help since that hat is special to me.” Milou shrugged, moving to walk beside Ruby again.

Ruby hums at this and let’s out a small laugh, “that hat was a terrible color but I must say…you wore it well. Framed your perfectly potato sized head nicely.”

Milou rolls her eyes, “thank you, I think?”

Ruby nods, a small smile playing on her lips before she says, “you mentioned if I was okay earlier, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Milou peeked at Ruby as they continued walking.

“Well…if you don’t mind—

The brown haired girl began just as the rain poured down over their heads. Ruby let’s out a squeal in displeasure, quickly leaving her bike behind and sets off into a jog towards the stone fence and nearest tree.

“I can’t believe this!” Ruby yells over the loud rain after Milou makes her way over.

Milou holds out her hand to let the rain drops hit the back of the skin on her hand, “believe it. My god-mommy did mention a rain storm was on its way.”

Ruby wipes the water from her face, “And you didn’t think to inform me earlier?”

Milou folds her arms, “You don’t check the weather when you pick out your outfits for the day?”

“Do you?” Ruby glares, with a roll of her neck.

Milou smirks doing another famous spin with a pop of the collar to her puffer vest, “Always…i mean look at me, don’t I look on theme?”

It’s Ruby’s turn to glance at Milou’s appearance for the day. A cream puffy vest, a nude zip up sweater underneath exposing a black tourmaline crystal wrapped around her neck, baggy cream jeans, the black sunglasses, damp denim hat and some sort of patterned boots.

“…Debatable.” Ruby calls over the pelt of rain while Milou shrugs her shoulders.

“If I like it then I love it.” Milou says peering at Ruby underneath her sunnies, “just like you’ll learn to love it once we become friends.”

“You keep saying that like you’ve been wishing upon a star.”

“No but you were just about to put your trust in me and tell me what’s been up with you lately, yeah?” Milou rests her elbow against the tree, later followed by resting her head against her hand.

Ruby turned her eyes into slits, “was I really?”

Milou lounges just blinking at the eighteen year old, waiting for her next move.

“Okay fine!” Ruby tightens her hold on the ends of her jacket for warmth, “I’m not the biggest fan of therapists.”

“Good thing for you, I’m nowhere near one.”

Ruby sighs, “thank heavens for that! But I better not hear you gossiping about me online or anywhere else for that matter.”

“Ruby,” Milou stares hard at the girl underneath her eyelashes, “that’s not how I operate and never will. Plus I’ve been told I don’t have much of a social media presence in the first place.”

“Did I say that?” Ruby searched the air in thought.

“No, my god-brother did.”

“Smart guy. Now him, I could be friends with.”

It’s Milou’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Okay! So the only reason I’m saying this is because I won’t be running through the rain and we have nothing else better to do. So yes! I Ruby Matthews have felt like complete shit for awhile now and I’m dealing with it all the best way I know how: On my own. It’s also a number of things that contributed to this icky feeling…that you’re probably right about too.”

Milou gave a quick clap and a thumbs up at Ruby, “well done. See that wasn’t so bad?”

Ruby takes a brief sip from her coffee that’s definitely turned warm opposed to piping hot like she preferred it. She also finds that her hands are shaking a bit as she exhales. “You’re not gonna give me any advice or anything?”

“Well no, unless that’s what you want?” Milou now leans her back against the tree as she peeks up beneath the remaining brown leaves on the tree, “Otherwise I’m just here to listen or be a shoulder to lean on, your choice.”

“That works,” Ruby flicks her hair back, eyes viewing the heavy rain that makes it almost hard to see the other homes in the distance.

Milou wasn’t sure what part exactly but she had a feeling Ruby was still working that out herself.

When she reaches a hand out to Ruby, which she catches from the corner of her eye, the taller of the two quickly latches onto Milou’s wrist, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“You’ve got leaves in your hair,” Milou says making Ruby glance upwards trying to see herself.

Milou innocently raises the fingers on the hand Ruby is currently holding, showing that she doesn’t mean any harm and that Ruby doesn’t have to always be on the defense when it came to her.

However she understood and knew it would take time for Ruby to allow that after being hurt a few times. They probably wouldn’t have forever since time does move faster than you think and there were many missed opportunities as children to be something more but at least they had now.

“Thanks for sharing,” Milou whispers, holding the crumbled leaf to Ruby’s view and flicking it to the ground.

Ruby gazed at Milou for a moment before staring back out at the rain, “C’mon then. The rain looks to have lightened up.”

“You sure?”

“Not really,” Ruby cautiously steps into the now windy air, “but be a lady and walk me home. Then maybe you’ll help me with my hair while we watch wives of Miami…since who knows what kind of leftovers are stuck in my hair from the leaves you kicked at me.”

Milou takes her sunglasses to place on the brim of her hat, “that’s not what happened, I kicked away from us not towards you.”

“Don’t argue just accept the invitation because I do not ask twice.” Ruby held her cup out for Milou to hold while she shrugged out of her jacket to tie the arms securely around her head.

Milou cackled, “you look ridiculous.”

Ruby can’t help but to fight the laughter lines that appear on her cheeks, “so be it but we both know who’s the true fashionista here.”

“Yeah and her name starts with an ‘m.’” Milou hands the half empty beverage back to Ruby who struts back some to pull her bike back up into her grasp.

“Right: M for Matthews.”

“Sure but it’s actually M for Mrs. Milou.”

Ruby snaps her head back to Milou who’s all smirks and raised brows.

Was Milou flirting with Ruby? Ruby couldn’t deny that she found Milou attractive but she wasn’t in the mood to get under to get over.

“Please, don’t flatter yourself.” Ruby makes her way back over.

Milou teases, “You like it.”

“Noooo! Stop talking, let’s get going.” Ruby rushes out with a clear of her throat, hoping that the apples of her cheeks didn’t change hues.

Milou courtesy’s and holds out a hand, “lead the way then, your highness.”

Ruby looks forward after walking by Milou, the now light rain making it somewhat bareable to get through on foot, “I just want to say…thank you for always being around when I least expect it and probably need it.”

“Aw, what are friends for?” Milou lightly bumps her shoulder with Ruby’s.

“Friends? I thought you were coming up with a proposal for me.”

Milou raises her eyebrows at this, picking up on the humor in Ruby’s tone, “at least take me out first then we’ll discuss the details later.”

“Are we not heading round to mine now?” Ruby peeks out from underneath the arm of her jacket on her head.

Milou laughs, “I see. Good thing I’m dressed for the occasion.”

Ruby smiles to herself, “we’ll see…”

Milou frowns at that, not knowing what she was getting herself into with Ruby Matthews but she was sure being caught in any other rainstorms along the way, could bring flowers in the end.

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚. ⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚. ⋆｡‧

Continue along with my October anthology prompts here.

#Spotify #queued #s*x education #sex education #sex ed netflix #sex education season 4 #ruby matthews #Ruby matthews x f! reader #Ruby matthews x reader #october prompts #fall prompts #mimi keene

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bouncehousedemons · 10 months

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i used to think you had awesome taste in guys...but all the lee pace you keep reblogging...ewwwwww

The nearest tube station to Moorfields Eye Hospital is Old Street - you can get there in about 20 minutes on the Northern line from King's Cross. I'd suggest you pop along and ask for an eye wash, as clearly you have shit in them xoxo

#asked and answered

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byrdieyadroit · 1 month

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What I'd like to see for season 4 of Bridgerton (***this is my opinion please take with a grain of salt I know how you girls like to tussle)

**Spoilers for Book 3 if you haven't read it

Obviously they're going to get rid of the massive time gap between the masquerade ball and when Sophie meets Benedict again and so a lot of it will be rushed alongside some storylines revolving around the Featheringtons and probably the other Bridgerton siblings. They might start preparing for a Eloise storyline soon (which I have thoughts on)

I'd love it if they would make Sophie an up and coming actress. She goes to the theatre when she can to see as many performances as possible and maybe get to know some of the performers who are being hired for a job to attend the Bridgerton ball. Maybe the leader of a certain troupe she wants to join will be there, so she just has to attend.

I know people love the Cinderella story and all but I find it in comparison to the other books to be a bit boring and cliche and out of step with what Netflix has built so far. I still think they should keep the Cinderella moment at the ball though - Mrs Gibbons gives her her grandmother's dress and gloves and she sneaks into the ball yadda yadda but I'd like her motivations to be a bit different.

She's not there to take in how the other lives or dream about finding Prince Charming but to begin her own career and network - she just so happens to actually find love while doing it 😂 I'm not saying they should "girl-boss" Sophie (god no) but I'd like for them to give her more agency and control of own her life. Being as she's not technically of the upper classes, she can actually do a lot more than say Eloise can. I'd like that one of the connections that Benedict and Sophie would have is the love of the arts and a passion for a career that makes no money 😂😂 an artist and an actor - come on there's so much there!

Fast forward she's caught immediately and thrown out of the house. But it doesn't end for her, she goes immediately to her fav theatre troupe and asks for a job and steadily rises up the ranks - in particular in breeches roles which she becomes quite famous for - maybe she'll become famous for playing ridiculously over the top rakes from the Restoration era subtly hinting at known rakes and playboys of the ton (maybe a character that might be too on the nose about a certain Bridgerton). I'd love it if they did a whole musical hall number about sailors and the navy 🤭🤭 we'll get to see actresses scandalously wearing trousers.

It'll be nice to see the Regency "underworld" a bit more and actually get to see some Molly houses and the 19th century subculture of queer London (Convent Garden, Moorfields, St. James's Park, etc). I'd love to hear some Polari spoken as well.

Naturally both her and Benedict world's come together because they happen to run in similar circles but every time he meets Sophie again she's always in a different character or disguise and the love story is him trying to get to know the real her and she falling in love with him but knowing ultimately that can't be together.

A lot of Sophie's pain comes from the fact that she's the illegitimate daughter of an Earl (who she believes never loved her), that she has to constantly hide who she really is and that a world that she could've been a part of is taken from her or rather she is barred from entry. But on the stage, in the theatre she can be whoever she wants to be and has come to find a family of her own.

Rather than dreaming of a Prince Charming, perhaps she wants to be Prince Charming herself. To have the power to change the lives of others and bring joy to them.

Idk I'd like for Sophie to have a bit more agency in her life. I think they did so well in adapting Kate, Penelope, Eloise and the other female characters on screen as well as giving Benedict more to him than in the books - they literally could take it anywhere. And honestly, just make Sophie queer as well - adds another element to her character and why she feels more at home in the theatre idk. Fans of Tipping the Velvet will get what I mean. Perhaps every time they meet is because they keep flirting with the same people at the same time and end up unintentionally dick-blocking each other.

I'd love there to be a running gag that Benedict never catches on that Sophie is the mystery Lady until the very end that even she's surprised he never guessed but everyone else had.

While her star is growing she begins to attract admirers and men wanting her to be their mistress - one annoyingly being Philip Cavender. I'd prefer they scrap the storyline of her working for the Cavender family (or her working as a maid entirely) and instead she's invited to his little party for a job and rather it is a friend of Sophie that works for the family who gets into trouble with him and she ends up saving her instead - Benedict just happens to be there and helps them escape. I just find the knight in shining armour to be so tired - it would be more funny if the knight just happens to be a woman.

What gets Sophie in trouble is that she still keeps in contact with her stepsister Posey, which has potential to draw scandal and so in a way she's trapped between two worlds which inevitably leads her to getting arrested. The arrest causes a huge scandal but despite all of it and even learning about her illegitimacy (just bring that up early rather than drawing it out like in the books), Benedict still loves her and intends to risk his social standing to be with her - even getting into conflict with his brother's about it.

She still refuses to be his mistress again because she doesn't want her children to grow up the way she did and she also enjoys her life, perhaps being with Benedict helps her overcome her internal shame and helps her bring something different to her performances - maybe she goes on to do more dramatic roles. And she also doesn't want to give up the stage. Ironically the arrest and her release has made her that much more popular and she becomes somewhat of a working class hero. (Again bring up the arrest earlier rather than at the end - don't have enough episodes or time)

They keep meeting again and again because Sophie is hired to do more private gigs at the many parties of the Ton and they keep sleeping with each other with Sophie still insisting she will not be his mistress. Rinse and repeat.

Posy finds Sophie's father's will and dowry and goes to Violet with it and they deduce that Araminta had stolen it, yadda yadda liar revealed. Sophie gets naturalised as the Earls daughter and so they can get married. (Although tbf do they have to? Lemme not...)

Anyway that's what I'd love to see but probably won't happen. It will be interesting to see what they'll do since show Benedict is so different to book Benedict and I would hate for him to regress since I love what they've done for him so far idk. I'd just like for Benedict to find his equal like how his siblings have. I find the book versions to be so unequal and manipulative when it doesn't have to be that - even within the period culture of the time.

I'd like to see Sophie as more like Kitty Fisher, Maria Gunning, Harriette Wilson and Sarah Siddons (I know a lot of them are not Regency women but it still counts)

I mean so what if Sophie does become a mistress or even a courtesan - that wouldn't put Benedict off (but I know how whorephobic this fandom can get 👀)

I should just write the fanfic huh 😩

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 4 #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers

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blogger360ncislarules · 6 months

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If you just finished the season finale of The CW‘s Wild Cards, we’ve got some good news: There’s more on the way, at least according to star Vanessa Morgan, who tells TVLine that it’s “very likely” we’ll be getting another season of the comedic procedural.

“We’re still waiting for that greenlight, but I’ve heard that it’s happening,” she says. “I’d love to have the official word so I can plan my life a little bit, but I’m pretty positive.”

And the finale certainly gave viewers plenty to think about while they wait to see what’s next for Max and Ellis. Here’s a quick recap of the season’s final hour: Max coerced the authorities into helping her swipe a $33 million egg from her estranged husband (!) Olivier, who also happens to be the man responsible for landing Max’s father behind bars. (By the way, Morgan says she was “just as shocked as everyone else” when we learned that Max has a husband.)

The team successfully exposed and captured Olivier, earning Max her freedom, Ellis his old job back and Max’s father a lesser prison sentence. And they all lived happily ever after, right? Well, actually… It was then revealed that Max and Ricky have been eyeing Olivier’s incriminating egg for months, and they were fully prepared to skip town after swapping it out with a fake.

But “lying is no way to say goodbye,” so Max paid one last visit to Ellis’ houseboat to share some information she and Ricky received about his brother… they know who killed him! As for the identity of Ellis’ brother’s killer, Morgan has one prevailing theory — and she really wants to be right.

“I hope it’s Curtis Moorfield, the basketball player we met in Episode 2, because that would bring my boyfriend back to set,” Morgan says of the character played by her real-life boyfriend James Karnik. “I was like, ‘Babe, if you were the killer, you’d come back and be with me!”

In the meantime, fans of Max and Ellis’ will they/won’t they dynamic should appreciate Morgan’s thoughts on where the duo now stands: “Max does genuinely care about him,” she says. “The fact that she even went back [proves that]. She was supposed to be on a plane. She could have been halfway around the world by then. But she came back to tell him who killed his brother. A person with no feelings for someone wouldn’t risk their life and risk getting arrested to tell that information. So we’ll see what happen

#wild cards #the cw

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lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar · 3 months

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may I ask why is russ always wearing shades? is he hiding something,,, is he photosensitive,,, his eyes are too pretty to be shown,,, what is going on what am I missing

okay but his eyes actually are VERY pretty so there is that, but yeah he has a good reason. i'll take a part of his story he told of when he was 12 years old, from his website. he's gone into it more in depth than this in interviews, but just to give you a short version:

"In the summer holidays I had an accident. I was hit in the eye by a stone from a catapult. I knew from the moment I was hit that I was blind in my right eye. I was rushed to Moorfields Eye Hospital in London, where I had both eyes covered for twelve days. The doctors tried hard to save the sight of my eye through ten operations over three years, this was unsuccessful."

he was self conscious about the way it looked for a long time, which is why the choice of super dark big sunglasses he wore at first.

now he seems so comfortable with himself, it's one of the things that's so inspiring to me about him.

#it was a catapult/slingshot whatever you wanna call it #this is also the thing that drove him further towards music instead of football #when he shut himself in after the accident for so long all he did was play guitar #the way he got through it is amazing to me #and he loves his life so much now #and i love him

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mezzopieno-news · 5 months

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UNA NUOVA TERAPIA SALVA LA VISTA AI BAMBINI CON CECITÀ

Esperti degli ospedali inglesi Evelina London Children’s, St Thomas’, Great Ormond Street e Moorfields Eye hanno unito le forze per sviluppare una innovativa terapia genetica oculare destinata a bambini affetti da una rara forma di cecità.

La Amaurose Congenita di Leber-4 (LCA4), una grave malattia genetica degli occhi, lascia i bambini con una deficienza visiva fin dalla nascita, limitando la loro capacità di distinguere tra chiaro e scuro. Fino a poco tempo fa la LCA4 era considerata incurabile a causa di difetti nel gene AIPL1 che portano alla morte delle cellule sensibili alla luce nella retina. Attualmente, l’Evelina London è l’unico ospedale al mondo ad offrire questo trattamento per i bambini affetti dalla malattia. La terapia, concessa in licenza speciale all’ospedale dalla società che l’ha sviluppata, prevede un intervento in laparoscopia, in cui copie sane del gene vengono iniettate negli occhi dei pazienti.

Khadijah Chaudhry, una bambina inglese di 3 anni, è stata tra le prime pazienti al mondo a ricevere questa terapia. Diagnosticata con LCA4 all’età di 2 anni, Khadja ha ricevuto iniezioni in entrambi gli occhi mostrando segni di miglioramento della vista dopo la procedura e dando speranza alla sua famiglia e ad altri bambini affetti da questa condizione. Neruban Kumaran, consulente di oftalmologia presso l’Evelina London, ha sottolineato: “Fornendo questa terapia genetica unica ai bambini con LCA4, speriamo di preservare o migliorare la loro vista. La perdita della vista può avere un impatto devastante sui bambini e sulle loro famiglie, con questo trattamento vogliamo dare speranza alle persone colpite da questa malattia.”

___________________

Fonte: Evelina London Hospital

VERIFICATO ALLA FONTE | Guarda il protocollo di Fact checking delle notizie di Mezzopieno

BUONE NOTIZIE CAMBIANO IL MONDO | Firma la petizione per avere più informazione positiva in giornali e telegiornali

Se trovi utile il nostro lavoro e credi nel principio del giornalismo costruttivo non-profit | sostieni Mezzopieno

#mezzopieno #tgbuonenotizie #buonenotizie #buonenotiziedalmondo

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metrocentric · 6 months

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Moorfields Highwalk, EC2, open again.

#got there before DG and IanVisits #london

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missameliep · 2 years

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Second Chances - Chapter Twenty Three: Racing Hearts

Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth (OC) Rating: Teen and Up (there are some swearing) Word count: ~10K

Summary: Hearts are racing faster than the horses at Edgewater. The new day begins and is more eventful than Elizabeth and her friends could have anticipated.

Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster, Annabelle Parsons; Luke Harper; Vincent Foredale; Theresa Sutton.

Notes: * All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC. * I want to thank @princess-geek and @noesapphic for being my betas in this chapter. Thank you, girls, you're awesome! * Non-English words at the notes in the end. * Your eyes do not deceive you, after a year without updates, a new chapter dropped. Sorry about the lack of updates, I hope to finish editing the next chapter in the next days. * This is my submission to @choicesjanuarychallenge day 8: Clear | Stormy | Travel.

“Are you telling Hamid?” Briar asked, glancing at Elizabeth lying beside her and staring unblinking at the ceiling.

“I guess that’s not something you just... say...”

“What then? Will you text him?”

“How would I even start a conversation like that through text?”

“Nudes proved to be extremely effective icebreakers.”

Nervously, Elizabeth giggled; not entirely sure her friend was joking.

“I don’t know... If it feels... right, I’ll try to be more assertive next time we’re together...”

“Assertive?” Briar laughed and rolled over to her side, throwing her black hair back and propping her cheek in one hand. “You must flirt back. Be seductive.”

“I have no idea how to do any of that. I’ll embarrass myself if I try.”

“I can teach you.”

“Believe me. I’m unteachable when it comes to these sorts of things,” Elizabeth laughed, remembering her friend Renata’s attempts to get her out of her shell and make a move on one of her first crushes.

“Trust me. My techniques are infallible!” she nudged her friend.

“You sound like a cartoon villain!” she giggled.

“I didn’t hear a no.”

“It’s late. Time to sleep.”

“Can I stay?" Briar curled like a cat nestling over the duvet with her arms around her torso. "I’m so comfortable right now...”

“Sure. But my alarm clock will ring in –” Elizabeth reached the mobile over the nightstand and squinted her eyes to see the time. “– 4 hours.”

“Why?”

“I have to check the horses and the preparations for our picnic before breakfast.”

“Nope... I’m heading out –” Briar rolled out of the bed, put on the slippers and walked to the door. “– But good luck with all of that. Sleep tight.”

“You too.” Elizabeth smiled, going under the duvet while the other closed the door quietly.

As the antique pendulum floor clock at the foyer chimed when the small hand reaches eleven, the soles of the riding boots clicked sharply against the wood when Elizabeth ran down the stairs two steps at a time. Luckily, Lady Dominique was nowhere around to chastise her for such an improper behaviour and remind the rules inside the manor.

The apparent misbehave has a reason: the weather forecast changed, and rainstorms are expected sooner than previous announcements. They must hurry and leave now if they want to go out for a horse ride, have a picnic like planned and be back safely and dry at the manor.

Nevertheless, getting everybody ready is a nearly impossible task. The schedule got delayed by an hour because her friends would not get up at the agreed hour or stop debating in the group chat whether they should or should not go to the pub at Moorfield this evening; even Edmund joined their discussions. Only Hamid remained silent; nobody heard from him since they retreated to their rooms the night before and he vanished from his room early in the morning.

“He will be back in time. Don’t worry, Lizzy,” Briar texted her back, but she can’t help it but worrying.

She wished he had told anyone where he went by himself. The property has many paths through the woods, which can be confusing to those not used to them, and Hamid is the impulsive kind of guy to get too far and lost. Not to mention the boars. If he’s hurt nobody would even know where to start looking for him...

Why am I thinking of all these horrible scenarios?

“That’s ridiculous,” she tells herself. “The universe is not working against me. Right?”

Another message from the group: no news from Hamid, but they are talking about second-breakfast and elevenses now. She deletes the angry cat emoji she was about to send; they are probably messing with her, and she won’t give them the satisfaction.

Finally, she understands why Lady Dominique is so strict about punctuality and is on the verge of forgetting manners and leaving behind whomever is not ready in fifteen minutes… Evidently, she would never be that rude, but the thought crosses her mind anyway.

Dashing into the ground floor while texting Edmund about Hamid’s whereabouts, she collided with a side table on the hallway. Nimbly, she lounged forward; her hands balanced it, and she thanked heavens the white statuette didn’t collapse to the ground. Her grandmother’s wrath is the last thing she needs right now.

“Why so many side tables, grandma? Those are a menace!” she muttered under her breath, tucking the mobile on the coat pocket. Judging by the familiar chuckle, the scene must have been amusing.

“There is a reason your grandmother forbids running inside.”

Whirling around, she met her father standing a few metres away on the hallway coming from the library, a wide teasing grin on his face.

To her surprise, right beside him was Hamid. The sight of him and his ridiculously beautiful face stole her breath and words for a second. Averting her gaze, she focused on her father and what she was supposed to say.

“Would you tell her?” she asked, tilting her head a little bit, and forcing an offended expression.

“It will be our secret,” Vincent stage-whispered. “Mother is yet to forget the incident with the Cordonian crystal apple... It was an irreplaceable gift from late Queen Eleanor.”

“That was not my fault!”

Her father tsked. “Harry used to say the same...”

Smiling, the trio met half-way and she hugged her father, who kissed the top of her head and complimented her elegance sporting the riding attire in navy blue and hair manhandled in one long braid. He looked proud at the sight of Edgewater’s gold crest on her jacket.

Without meeting Hamid’s gaze, she returned his wishes of a good morning and admitted in an almost inaudible tone, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I didn’t know,” he said entirely too pleased.

“You would, if you’ve read my texts...”

Right hand over his chest, he apologised, “Sorry, Liz. The battery died and I didn’t bring the charger...”

“Why didn’t you say so?” she said, taking the mobile from the pocket. “I could’ve lent you my spare one. I’ll text Melinda and ask her to take it to your room.”

Vincent looked amused between them and joined the conversation.

“Do not be mad at him. It is entirely my fault, Eliza. We met by chance, and I insisted he joined me for breakfast. There were some matters I wanted Hamid’s opinions about.”

Her gaze darted from the mobile to her father’s face. “Were you working?”

Hamid laughed at her reproving tone, or possibly at the absurd notion of him working in his free time. “For two seconds. Nothing related to work can compete with more interesting topics of conversation.”

“Poetry and love,” Vincent added, with a grin, trying to appease the curiosity in her eyes. “I wanted to show Hamid a particular book from our collection. It belonged to his namesake.”

“A very interesting tome. I wouldn’t mind taking another look some other time.”

“You are always welcome in our library.”

Observing the exchanges between them and their smiling faces, a warm feeling spread inside of her chest. Her father is always gentle mannered and friendly, mostly due to his personality than his upbringing and lessons to fulfil his duties as the Earl of Edgewater, but there is an undeniable sense of pleasure when he is around Hamid.

“I am glad you were enjoying yourselves...”

“How anyone could not? It’s a privilege to have your father sharing his wise words...”

“Likewise. Our conversations are delightful,” Vincent said and patted Hamid on the shoulder. The other returned the compliment with a sincere smile. “However, I believe I kept you away from your young peers far too long. I am certain Eliza misses your company and will show you a far better time...”

Her cheeks reddened at the words and the knowing smile he directed at her; however, Hamid chose not to acknowledge either with a look or cheeky comment, keeping his attention at the lord, which she was truly grateful for.

“Will you not join us, sir?”

“The last thing you need is some old folk like me following you around and ruining the fun…”

“You would not bother us, dad.”

“You are too kind, my dear. But I have a busy day ahead.”

“It’s Saturday! You promised you’d rest.”

He chuckled at her remark, and it reminded him of when she was much younger and pouted whenever he needed to work during their time together.

“Later,” he said patting her arm. “Now, I am expected at Ledford Park. Enjoy your day and be careful about the rain. The paths become too slippery for the horses.”

“We’ll return before the rain.’’

Using both hands, he cupped her cheek affectionately and kissed the top of her head again.

As soon as the taps of shoe soles faded in the distance, and it was only the two of them, Hamid stepped closer.

“You look gorgeous,” he purred while his hand reached the side of her face, gently curling a long lose curl around his fingers, before tucking it behind her ear. The backs of his fingers softly brushed her skin, causing a hundred butterflies to flutter in her stomach, and moved away. “I told myself you would never look more beautiful than yesterday and yet... You outdid yourself.”

Unnecessary to see her own reflection to know redness was blooming in her face. How she wished to keep her emotions to herself! But a mere touch or a sweet word of his and the rosy of her cheeks give away her emotions, and she hates that about herself. Hamid on the other hand admires exactly that about her: her tongue may not say the words, but the truth emerges each time she blushes. And he dared assume it was not sheer embarrassment of being complimented that pinks her cheeks, but something else entirely.

“Were you actually running after me?” he asked softly, lips stretched in a grin that showed his perfectly lined teeth, expectation glinting in his eyes. “In spite of your grandmother’s prohibition?”

“Actually, I was on my way to check on the others.”

He pouted and his entire face fell in mocking disappointment, and she stuttered.

“Did – Did I say something wrong?”

Smiling, he clicked his tongue and raised his chin in negative, like she learned from the series they watched together is customary in his country and not simply a cute thing he does.

“Your honesty keeps me humble.”

“Oh!” Averting her gaze, she looked downward at her fingers fidgeting with one golden button of her jacket. Before the moment seemed completely over, she forced herself to mumble a simple question, “What if I were?”

“That would heal my wounded ego, and I might say that among many other things, I’d happily take the blame for any bibelot you break. Or, better yet, hide any evidence of its previous existence... Which knowing your grandmother is probably a safer choice.”

She chuckled and looked back at him and how cute he looked with a silly little smile. Perhaps she should’ve let Briar give her a few pointers on being flirty.

“Can you spare a few minutes?” he asked in his most appealing tone, “I was hoping we –”

Before he finished his sentence, voices of their friends echoed from the other hallway and in the blink of an eye they were surrounded by them. Everyone talking at the same time and over each other, inquiring about the picnic and if Briar could ride wearing those high hell boots or not.

“It’s not safe!” Edmund and Annabelle said at once.

“The horse will do the walking, not me,” she insisted.

“Maybe after the picnic?” Hamid whispered into Elizabeth’s ear, one of his warm smiles illuminating his features when she faced him.

“Sure,” she sighed, knowing that between their friends and her family, there wouldn’t be many free moments during the day. Hooking her arm with his, she pleaded, “Now, come and help me. I need to borrow your skills to get everybody out of the house.”

Through the narrowest part of the unpaved path, hooves clopped rhythmically while the horses carried the group onward. With every gust of wind blowing through the crowds of the trees, rained leaves that danced in the air for a beautiful moment before sinking to join the crunchy sunset-coloured blanket covering the ground.

The further they were from the manor, the more the conversations were punctuated by the chirping of birds and more often than not by Briar’s worried remarks.

What started as a little distress at being around horses turned into a quarrel against the animals. Narrowing her eyes at the brown mare Annabelle was riding, Briar’s arms wrapped tightly around Edmund’s waist, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline.

“Look at that evil eye!” Briar’s nasal voice resounded from the back of the line, and two of the horses snorted in sequence, swishing their tails. “That beast hates me already… and is telling the others about it!”

Hamid’s silvery voice followed, insisting on explaining the amiable nature of the majestic creatures to no avail.

Smiling, Elizabeth considered how sympathetic he has been with their friend and her fear of horses, despite Briar’s previous threats to kick him in the chin or in a more painful place if a horse bites her.

“I have been around horses long enough to know they can’t talk or plot against you,” Annabelle added, her voice ringing with laughter.

“Wouldn't it be amazing if they could talk?” Hamid mused a recurrent desire of his: since he was a boy, he wished animals could talk to humans, or at least could communicate with him particularly. “I wonder what they would say…”

“Probably they’d complain about ungrateful humans they must carry around on their backs...” Annabelle picked on Briar and this remark earned a formidable string of complaints about her insensitivity...

Luke held a chuckle and gazed at the woman riding by his side on the back of a tan coated thoroughbred mare called Clover, that became her trusted companion in many summer days since she started her equitation lessons at the age of 8, like she told him earlier at the stables.

Today, Elizabeth was quieter than usual, not displeased by the company or the ongoing conversation rather than enraptured by the activity and by seeing the countryside after five long years; besides, like many introverts, she greatly prefers to be surrounded by talkative people who do most of the talking, sparing her the obligation of preventing awkward silences.

“Horses were always my favourites,” he spoke loud enough to be heard by Elizabeth, drawing her attention, “I feel I can understand them...”

She contemplated him for a second and the wide smile curling his full lips, and asked with the most serious tone she could muster, “Luke, are you going to confirm the horses are secretly scheming against Briar?”

Her joke prompted him to chuckle, a soft sound rambling from his chest, and she smiled.

“Hey! Not so loud,” he whispered, failing to keep a serious face. “I sworn secrecy!”

They let out wholehearted laughs, and Elizabeth complimented his riding skills, curious of how a boy raised in a very urban city in the United States could be such an expert around horses.

“Once you spend so much time around horses, you learn a thing or two…”

“How much time are we talking about?”

The question was the cue to Luke tell her about his training in equitation growing up and the prizes earned when he participated in competitions as a teenager that helped him earn a place at the polo team at university.

“Impressive!” she observed. “Maybe we should put your skills to test one of these days… Edgewater breeds some of the finest racehorses in the country.”

He beamed one of those shiny open smiles that crinkle the corners of his green eyes. The suggestion of riding together some other time and of a friendly race was promptly acquiesced, and he was clearly happy.

“A race?” Hamid asked already galloping to approach the two at the front of the group. “That sounds fun!”

“FUN?” Briar cried. “Only if your idea of fun is getting trampled to death by these awful beasts!”

“Don’t worry! Nobody is racing today,” Elizabeth reassured her to no avail. “But we can take the longer path to the ruins and enjoy just a little longer…” She described the track that crossed the meadows in which she used to ride with her brothers and their friends.

The proposition was eagerly accepted by everyone other than Briar. To please her, Edmund suggested they followed the plan and take the shorter route through the woods.

Briar raised a finger to Edmund and said seriously, “Promise me you will not let it dash like a maniac and trample over me!”

The blonde nodded, promising he’d take care of her, and it was enough to appease her. A barely perceptible smirk curled his thin lips when Briar buried her head on his back, hiding her face.

The group eventually parted and after a few minutes, a clearing provided the first glimpse of the ruins standing beyond the meadows peppered by wildflowers.

Hamid’s enthusiastic remarks stole Elizabeth’s attention for a moment. Even though he often says everything is the most beautiful and most extraordinary he’s ever seen, his words were not far from the truth. Despite the grey clouds looming, the countryside could not be more idyllic, and the ruins were impressive. Even considering all the missing parts, like the long-gone stained glasses and fallen tower, their imaginations could rebuild the greatness of the ancient stone building when it was standing tall centuries ago. And for a long moment, that's what they did, while conjecturing about the former inhabitants.

“Some say it’s a magical place...” Annabelle confided, and Hamid couldn’t contain his excitement to learn more about the place while she shared details of an old tale Earl Vincent has told his children countless times.

When a resumed version of the tale reached its end, the horses galloped towards the ruins meandering a field peppered by tiny yellow and white flowers. The hooves clapped against the dirt path, the gentle clip-clop punctuating their conversations, while Elizabeth led the way and Luke remained close, both sharing their tales on equitation classes. Annabelle fell behind, eyes lost in contemplation; and Hamid’s were suddenly inundated by mischief.

The tranquillity of the ride didn’t last long. The sharp sound of hooves resonated when Hamid’s horse trotted increasingly faster past them. The horse’s mane and tail undulated with the wind while they distanced. A flock of birds flew away not without sharp piercing noises that sounded like reprimands against the rude behaviour of the four-legged beast and the noisy human on its back, disturbing the peace in their haven.

Dark hair tousled by the wind and grinning, he announced he’d be the first to arrive at the ruins and defied his friends to join him.

“Come on!” he cried over his shoulders, “It’s fun!”

Annabelle was quick in following his invitation and trotted past Luke and Elizabeth, who smiled at their merriment. When she considered joining them, a loud gasp escaped her mouth. In shock, she watched the scene unfolding. Less experienced and unfamiliar with the route, Hamid misled the horse, missing a curve many metres ahead. His body swayed in the saddle, almost slipping, and her heart skipped a beat. At full speed, the horse galloped, crossing the tall grass, and reaching another path at the opposite direction that would take them back to the woods.

All the previous feelings that troubled her mind came racing back. At that speed, either Hamid, the horse or both would get injured due to the many obstacles, like roots and ditches.

Swiftly, Luke guided his horse to the same direction, quickly gaining speed; and a moment after Elizabeth and Annabelle followed his lead.

Horse and its rider disappeared for a moment, and the next time Elizabeth had a glimpse of them, Luke was getting closer. Despite the adrenaline, his words to Hamid seemed calm. Parts of the instructions to slow the horse echoed in the field.

Thrill running through her veins, Elizabeth’s heart raced at the same rhythm of Clover’s hooves hitting the ground while she followed them. The horses left a cloud of dusty in their awake and Elizabeth bowed and squinted her eyes, trusting Clover would find the way to Hamid.

When her eyes opened again, Luke had managed to slow Hamid’s horse before reaching too deep into the woods. Anxiously, she dismounted Clover. Adrenaline high in her system, she ran the remaining metres to where the horses had stopped, and Luke was helping Hamid dismount.

“Is he...?” Elizabeth breathlessly asked Luke, and he nodded.

“He’s fine.”

Her eyes inspected Hamid from the top of his head to his feet, as if still trying to convince herself he was perfectly fine. She inhaled deeply and tried to calm herself.

Growing up, she got used to the thrill of races through this fields and woods and all sorts of shenanigans with her brothers and their friends, pretending to be part of the group of heroes that fought the Shadow Court; somehow, this right now felt completely different. Maybe she was way more out of practice than she thought, considering the last time she rode a horse. Maybe the years made her fearful and cured her of the past recklessness. Maybe she has grown into one of those nagging adults that spoiled everybody’s fun.

“This time you can’t deny it!” Hamid grinned and said out of breath, “You were running after me!”

“You joke?!”

“I see you are alright!” Annabelle laughed behind Elizabeth, having dismounted the horse, and joined the group of riders, under an immense oak tree.

“Have you seen how fast I was?” he directed his question to her, too excited.

“I certainly did. And I imagine how sore you’ll be later.”

“It’s not as... comfortable as my Suzuki... I admit. But it was so fast! This horse is... extraordinary!” he panted. His enthusiasm cut by loud exhales and breathed laughs.

Relief had washed over her companions at the sight of the unharmed Hamid, however, Elizabeth’s jaw tightened and her whole body shivered.

“If you haven’t noticed, we were running to prevent you from hurting yourself! There’s nothing funny about it!”

“My heroes.”

The smile he flashed, didn’t ease her frown.

How could he not take his own safety seriously?

“You said you knew how to ride...”

“I may have overestimated my skills... it seems... and perhaps my expertise with a different kind of horsepower was not immediately transferred…” he said, and this could be a reference to any of the vehicles and dangerous activities he enjoys in his free time. Leaning against the trunk of the oak tree, he tried to catch his breath, and failed to plaster a more relaxed expression. “But I’m a fast learner. Give me one more minute, and I’m ready to try again. I challenge you all to another race to the ruins.”

Heart thumping in her ears and knees risking buckling, Elizabeth crossed the remaining distance to him, who steadied himself against the trunk with an arm, pretending it was just to look cooler, which nobody would buy by now, not even her.

“Seriously?” she fumed. “You could get seriously hurt!”

“I didn’t.”

His unconcerned manners remained undeterred by reason, and she let out an exasperated sigh.

In a voice as sweet as possible considering his current shortness of breath, he called her name, and leaned forward.

Raising one index finger, she stopped the predictable move of his hand before it touched her inflamed cheek.

“Dude, you couldn’t control the horse... if not for Luke...” Elizabeth trailed off, not daring say the alternatives out loud. All at once, it dawned on her the warnings the adults uttered back when she was a kid. That same uneasiness stormed, and her stomach was churning at the thought of any of those horrible things happening to Hamid.

Judging by the quizzical look in Hamid’s face, he couldn’t understand the distress in her voice nor why she was taking the incident this seriously. Nothing happened after all, which he regretted telling her once her eyes were alight like his mother’s whenever he does the opposite of what she expects from him – but he refrained from saying that.

“Liz,” he asked softly, trying his best to sound less confused than he was, “was it any different from the stories you and Edmund shared? You seemed amused sharing your shenanigans...”

“Yes, it’s completely different! First, we were kids and... –” didn’t know any better what this kind of absence felt like! “– Second, we knew these paths like the backs of our hands. Third, we had advanced lessons! Unlike you!” The emotions bubbling inside caused her voice to raise to a higher pitch and waver like the crowns of the trees dancing with the breeze. “Your self-confidence can get you hurt. Or killed. Just look what this kind of stuff does to people much more skilled than you! You must be responsible for your safety! What if Luke couldn’t reach you? Think about the people you’ll hurt... God!” She let out an exasperated sigh and covered her face with her hands; bowing his head, Hamid stepped back, trying to collect his thoughts after her outburst.

Annabelle’s footsteps on the dirty were loud enough not to be ignored. When she approached and stood between them, her presence interrupted whatever would follow this exchange.

“Fortunately, nobody got hurt, and we’re halfway to the ruins. So, can we get going? I’m starving!”

“Of course.” Elizabeth dusted off her clothes and adjusted the jacket, returning to the composed self everybody is used to, at least in the outside.

Walking away with Annabelle, she didn’t look back, but she felt Hamid's stare following her.

With a sympathetic smile, Luke patted Hamid on the back and asked if he was sure he could go on, and he nodded, still looking confused by Elizabeth’s reaction. Apparently the only one who didn't anticipate the coming storm.

When the group reached the ruins, the cloud in Elizabeth’s eyes had dissipated, but she couldn’t shy away the dreadful thoughts racing in her mind. Therefore, she welcomed the interruption when a middle-aged man with a pristine white uniform and the emblem of Edgewater walked in her direction, addressing her with the due ceremony and respect reserved to noblewomen like herself. For once, she felt too tired to oppose the ritual and kindly asked him to lead the way to the picnic setting.

In a clearing beside the ruins, four large picnic blankets had been settled over the grass with at least a dozen matching throw pillows; from two picnic baskets peeked bottles of lemonade and other colourful beverages, and exquisite food had been arranged all over the blankets, ranging from apple pie to different kinds of pastries, fresh fruits, jam, and sandwiches. The sight made her mouth water.

With the conformation everything was perfectly assembled, and settled the time of their return to disassemble the setting, the man left, making his way to a black van where another employee was waiting.

The four friends gathered around the food – and inevitably talked about the absent two.

“Should we text them?” Elizabeth asked, “See if they are alright?”

“They’re probably more than alright, and that’s the matter,” Annabelle muttered under her breath, and started typing in her mobile. “I’m texting we’ll start eating without them. That will get Briar’s attention.”

No reply came to this or any of the texts and pictures of the picnic, and the group comfortably settled down. Elizabeth watched Hamid stretching before easing into one of the large pillows on her left; she averted her eyes when he noticed the attention, focused on cleaning her hand with a wet wipe.

Several minutes later, a clip-clop announced the last horse’s arrival. Something that looked too much like disappointment was evident in Briar’s face. One hour ago, not a soul would expect her to wish to extend any stroll that involved the company of horses.

Annabelle and Elizabeth shared a knowing look, and no words were necessary to convey what they thought of that.

Edmund’s hands wrapped around Briar’s waist tentatively, and with a swift motion he brought her to the ground safe and sound; she thanked him with a lingering kiss on his cheek, that turned his skin as red as the colour of her lipstick, and reluctantly they parted. Edmund clucked his tongue and guided the horse to a tree next to the others, while Briar walked in the opposite direction, throwing glances over her shoulder.

Once the party was complete, it was time to truly enjoy the picnic. The sight of the food and setting was enough to rekindle Briar's cheerfulness.

“I remember this place from the series,” Briar pointed out. “The duel was shot right there, wasn’t it?”

Beside her, Edmund confirmed, indicating a small totem like the ones seen at museums, that contains the story of the building, and pointed at the place where the Ottoman Prince was shot.

“So romantic!” she sighed, lying on her side over a few cushions. “That scene left me breathless. Can you imagine having someone loving you that much? Risking their own life for you?” Theatrically, the back of one hand pressed against her forehead and she let out a dramatic sigh.

“Aside the fact the duel was based on misogynistic premises and claims over a fully-grown and rational human being, I won’t deny that it must have been exciting to see it all unfold!”

“It would’ve been perfect if the prince didn’t miss the shot.”

“Don’t forget the pistol had been tampered,” Edmund said, a little bit too enthusiastic to share his knowledge about the matter. “He didn’t stand a chance and was truly lucky the duke was such a bad shot and let him walk out with such a minor injury.”

“A duel is such a stupid stupid idea,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath and shoved the remaining of the sandwich inside her mouth.

The others looked at her with a mix of amusement and surprise.

“Don’t you find the idea of going to a secluded place with your nemesis and shooting them dead at dawn appealing?” Annabelle teased, “Of all people, I thought you would have the longest list of candidates...”

“God, no! Violence is not the answer to everything!”

“Sometimes it’s necessary,” Annabelle retorted. “Nonviolent resistance is poetic, but pointless when your enemy is determined to crush you or has a literal gun pointed at you... for instance, you don’t fight fascists with flowers or hugs.”

“I can see your point... But in their case, the entire thing was pointless! The prince was shot for nothing! The engagement went on for weeks after the duel and he could have died,” Elizabeth stressed the last word. “There were no antibiotics back then! If he died... she’d be alone... and Clara had just lost her mother and father... Can you imagine how scared and lonely she must have felt? The uncertainty?” her last words were barely audible, strained by the tightness in her throat and chest.

Breaking the silence, Luke remarked, “I thought you never watched the series.”

“I got curious...”

“I told you it was amazing!” Briar cried, pulling herself back to a sitting position. “We should watch together!”

“I agree violence rarely solves anything and usually brings more trouble,” Hamid mused, possibly referring to his own line of work. “But human nature is complex and even the best of us can make bad decisions moved by less than noble feelings.”

“Can you imagine how absolutely mad at that wanker the prince should’ve been at that point?” Annabelle asked, “The man was known for being a pacifist –”

“Not very pacifist, considering he was cool with putting a bullet through that other guy’s head,” Luke added.

“As if you wouldn’t!” Briar taunted.

“I don’t think I would! That’s not one of the cases violence would be justified...”

“I think you all would,” Briar pointed at each of her friends, “if you were in the prince’s shoes... even you, Lizzy, if that meant you could save someone you loved.”

“There are other options... More civilized.”

“Maybe there weren’t!”

“They could have eloped. Or left together to the Ottoman Empire or anywhere else...”

“Fleeing?” Briar grimaced. “Countess Clara was a strong woman; she would never run away without fighting!”

“That’s true. And you need to remember it was a different world back then,” Edmund re-joined the conversation, “they didn’t have games to settle their differences by blowing each other’s heads off safely... which is much healthier in my opinion. However, if you read Countess Clara’s journal, you’ll understand their reasons and the importance of the duel and how it sealed their bond...”

“That sounds romantic!” Briar clapped her hands and scooted closer. “Tell me more!”

Soon, the conversation changed and new topics more and less controversial followed.

At some point, Annabelle had grabbed a pencil and her sketchbook from her bag and sat over a boulder, looking pensive at the group and their simultaneous conversations.

Noticing it, Elizabeth excused herself and sat beside her.

“What are you drawing?”

“Just sketching...” Annabelle handed the sketchbook to her, who examined the various partial sketches of faces of their group, including herself.

A wistful smile replaced the blank expression in Annabelle’s face, and she sighed.

“I used to come here with Harry all the time... and the twins. That tree was Juliette’s balcony. Harry fell on his bottoms trying to climb it after me and got furious because I couldn’t stop laughing... He blamed me for not taking my role seriously and that Juliette would never laugh at Romeo – which made me laugh even harder.”

“That sounds just like him...”

A strained laugh that turned into a sob escaped Annabelle's mouth, and she used the back of her hands to wipe some tears pooling in her hazel eyes.

“Sorry... If I knew what this place meant to you, I’d have picked some place else…” Elizabeth apologised, but the other smiled.

“Hey! Don’t you worry. I need new happy memories. And I can always use some practice.”

They sat in silence, while Annabelle resumed sketching the tower.

“I wish I could draw like that...”

“I can teach you, if you like,” Annabelle nudged her.

“I’ll take you up on that someday...” Elizabeth smiled, looking at the way she focused on the architectural details. “How long does it take you to paint someone’s portrait?”

“It depends on size, complexity of pose and background, things like that...” Excitedly, she practically bounced in place. “Do you wish me to paint yours? I already have so many ideas! Two words: flower crown!”

“Actually, I had someone else’s portrait in mind...”

Judging by the way she smiled, Annabelle already knew the answer to the question, but she asked anyway, “Whose portrait?”

Elizabeth fidgeted with one gold button of her jacket, and said softly, “Hamid’s birthday is in December… I was thinking he would enjoy an original Parsons...”

“It’s perfectly doable.”

“Do you think it’s too much to gift a friend?”

Annabelle shook her head, her ponytail moving from side to side. “There’s no such a thing. Art is a thoughtful gift, and you are a thoughtful person.” She paused and looked back at her friend. “And you care about him. That’s why you were so worked up before, right?”

Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her chest and bit the inside of her cheek, and sighed, “Why is he such a… frigging reckless idiot?”

Annabelle laughed, “I think the polite word is ‘spontaneous’.”

“You know what I mean. It’s stupid to put himself in danger like that…”

“Where you see danger, some people see exciting opportunities to experience life. This kind of thrill can be good to the soul.”

“Do you think I’m being unreasonable?” the pitch of her voice raised slightly in the last word, conveying the outrage at the self-accusation.

“What if you were? Is that a bad thing? Nobody can be reasonable all the time. That’s how feelings work, isn’t it?” Annabelle nudged her side, and she caved, “I guess…”

Looking away at the horizon where leaden-coloured clouds in their endless swirls engulfed the hills, she fidgeted with one golden button. “Do you think I messed things up?”

“I’m not the one you should ask that question.” Annabelle tilted her head and raised her eyebrows indicating where Hamid and Luke were standing and engaged in an animated conversation.

For the first time in hours, she didn’t avert her gaze when Hamid noticed it, which seemed to encourage him to walk in their direction followed by Luke, both still talking enthusiastically. Their voices growing closer. When they arrived, Elizabeth’s shoulders tensed, and she only listened while Annabelle and Hamid talked about art.

Inspired by the light and wind, Annabelle asked Luke to pose mounting one of the horses, and she took many pictures with the mobile.

“For reference,” she explained to Hamid, who was curious about the concept.

A few moments later, the employees from Edgewater returned and Elizabeth exchanged a few words with them. With everyone minding their own businesses, Briar and Edmund took the opportunity to slip together to explore the ruins and Elizabeth decided to take a walk by herself, working on the lines of a possible dialogue with Hamid later.

A gentle tap on her shoulder caught her attention. A familiar presence standing behind her.

“Can we talk or are you still mad at me?” Hamid asked when she turned around to face him.

“I was not mad!”

Tilting his head, he simply smiled and gave her a knowing look. That look she’s so familiar by now and means he’s not buying it.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she didn’t back down, “I was reasonably explaining why you can’t do this sort of risky thing!”

“Then if you’re not mad, why are you still making that face every time you look at me?” He mockingly imitated her expression, narrowing his deep brown eyes and pressing his lips together in a thin line that curled downward in the edges.

“I don’t look like that!” she huffed, trying to keep a serious expression, too self-conscious of the way lines had definitely been creasing the area between her eyebrows.

“Of course not. Yours is angrier, but cuter. Like the angriest tiny kitten that you should fear but want to cuddle...”

She huffed again, “I don’t like when you do that.”

“Compliment your cuteness?”

“Say I’m tiny...” she snorted, “It’s rude!”

“Seriously? That’s what you’ve chosen to pick on what I said, Liz?” he asked getting cautiously closer. “Am I upsetting you? Do you want me to leave?”

“No...” she mumbled and dared look him in the eye. Biting the inside of one cheek, she was feeling too embarrassed and uncomfortable with this exchange. It was the opposite of what she had been rehearsing in her mind.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. Or overstep. You’re a grown man and you can do whatever... risky and stupid thing you want… But... as your friend… I needed to warn you and –”

“You worry about me,” Hamid interrupted, saying the words she couldn’t. Welcomed by the way he smiled so openly, not a hint of judgement in his eyes, she nodded.

“I get it, and I appreciate it. I’m not used to people outside my family worrying about me.”

“Are we... okay?”

“Always.”

Smiling, he bent the arm closer to her, and with a flourish offered the crook of his elbow. “May I join your walk, my lady?”

“Are you back to your prince’s character?”

Gazing at her eyes, he said softly, “Today, I prefer that we simply be Hamid and Elizabeth, if you don’t mind.”

The butterflies in her stomach fluttered and tried to escape through her mouth, and she could barely answer him with a soft “Not at all.”

She linked her arm with his, and he took her hand and adjusted it in the crook of his elbow. Even after it was right in place, his hand remained over hers. Elizabeth had no intention in addressing the matter or ask him to remove it, on the contrary. The warmness of his hand spread and reached her chest and cheeks. It was always wonderful to enjoy the feeling of his soft and warm skin against hers, and his face transpired a similar enjoyment.

In comfortable silence they walked down a path framed by ancient oaks, distancing from the ruins and the place everyone else was. It was easy to forget the world in moments like these.

The wind blowing more insistently kept sweeping his hair until his hair products gave up, and she smiled at how messy and cute it became.

“Look at that!” he laughed, pointing at a flock of magpies in one of the trees.

Slowing their pace, they recited the nursery rhyme together pointing at each bird on the branches.

“And seven for a secret, never to be told,” she said looking at him, the lilt of her laughter and a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

“Nine! There’s definitely nine!”

“Really?”

“You missed two that flew away.” Hamid pointed at the grey skies and recited the remaining verses like she taught him in the park, “Eight for a wish and nine for a kiss. How fortunate!”

“So, there will be a kiss in your future...”

“Our future,” he stressed the word.

“You saw nine,” she corrected with humour, “I did not...”

“Oh! In this case I must share my good fortune with you.”

He winked for good measure and red bloomed in her cheeks.

“Oh! How kind of you!” she teased but looked away, when he chuckled. Her heart thumping louder and faster against its cage. Forcing herself to look back at him and meet his gaze and amused grin, she saw an opportunity; her next words slipped from her lips in a lower but steady voice, “I wonder why you would be so kind to me...”

His lips uncurled and there was no laughter this time. Positioning himself in front of her, Hamid took both her hands in his, not minding how cold and moist they were.

“Do I really need to explain myself?” Bowing his head, he smiled; and she looked up. His dark brown eyes sparkled despite the sunlight barely succeeding in breaking through a sea of dark clouds. “I wanted to kiss you since we met. The only question is: do you want me to or not?”

To be honest, she has wanted to kiss him for most of the time they have known each other, and not in a friendly way.

With anticipation, her lips rolled inside her mouth and her tongue moistened them, like it did other times. His hooded eyes stared at her lips, making her heart race. However, her doubts glued her in place, preventing her from closing that gap that decreased with each short intake of breath.

Her throat became as dry as when she walked through the Atacama that vacation long ago. She could drink an entire bottle now, or maybe it was time to simply get drunk of him, ignoring that little voice inside of her head that sounds too much like her grandmother these days and let her future self worry about everything else.

Alas that was a thing she could do...

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and focused on the soothing motion of his thumbs stroking the backs of her hands.

“After what you said... at your flat... I... I was under the impression you would rather kiss someone else...”

His lips parted while he tried to recall the conversation she mentioned. “Someone else?” Hamid asked, his confusion frowning his brow. “I wonder what I could’ve possibly said that has led you to this conclusion, Liz...”

While she collected her thoughts, a sharp cry cut the air and a noisy flock of birds flew away, startling them. A wail impossible to ignore irrupted from the ruins.

They looked at each other and mumbled at the same time, “Briar.”

This was the cue for them to run. Holding hands, they sprinted to the entrance of the collapsed building just as a wide-eyed Edmund exited carrying Briar bride-style.

“What happened?”

“She fell. I – I think she sprained an ankle,” Edmund cried, and Luke examined the bare foot.

“It hurts.” Briar moaned and pressed the black heeled boot she was holding tight against her chest.

“I’ll take her home and call Dr. Collins.”

“The van,” Elizabeth cried and pointed at the vehicle, “It’s faster.”

Edmund nodded and changed direction, dashing to the vehicle in a surprising speed.

“What if she broke a bone?” Annabelle asked.

“Maybe she should go to the hospital...” Hamid pondered, and they all agreed.

“There’s not enough room for everyone...” Luke inspected the back of the van filled with items from the picnic and no seats available.

“Who will go with her?” Hamid said, looking between Briar and Elizabeth for directions, but the first wasn’t looking at him and the latter didn’t answer. Elizabeth’s entire body stiffened, the hospital was the last place she could go now, and she hoped Annabelle or Luke would offer to go instead.

While easing Briar into the passenger seat, Edmund didn’t wait for the deliberation and said he’d go. “As soon as we have news, I’ll call you.”

Leaning against the passenger window, Annabelle looked seriously at Briar. “I will refrain from telling you now heels were a terrible decision until we know how serious your injury is!”

Despite the pain, Briar snorted and hugged Annabelle.

“Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone!”

Edmund took a seat beside her and, immediately, her head leaned on his shoulder, and he encircled her with one arm.

As the man in white closed the door and started the engine, Elizabeth stared at the van moving away, wondering if she should’ve suggested that someone else accompanied Briar instead of Edmund. Moorfield is a small city and a visit to the hospital from a member of one of the most illustrious families in the region with a woman who is not his fianceé might cause a fuss.

“Don’t worry, Liz.” Hamid placed a comforting hand on her back, meeting her eyes with an encouraging smile. “Briar will be alright.”

“Will she really?” Elizabeth murmured still observing the van disappearing beside the trees.

“What do you mean?”

“Sorry, I'm just thinking out loud...”

He leaned closer and whispered, “He likes her.”

Of course, he knows. It shouldn’t surprise her. Besides, Briar and Edmund were not discreet or concerned in hiding their mutual interest this weekend.

“It’s easy to recognize the look on the face of a man in love...”

“Love?” Elizabeth echoed with a grimace, her eyes darting to his face. “They've seen each other a handful of times!”

“Don’t give me that look!” He chuckled and one of his fingers gently tapped the tip of her nose. Her nose and eyes scrunched, and she made one of the adorable faces he never gets tired.

“There’s no rule. Some people need time, others simply know...”

“Oh, please! It’s not always about love,” she protested, knowing that there are several other feelings that could be involved.

His shoulders raised almost to his ears, and he let them drop with a wistful smile. “What can I say, canım benim[1]? I’m a romantic.”

“You and Briar are the same,” she snorted, “Throwing the L-word around… saying people who barely know each other are in love…”

“Who else Briar thinks is in love and barely know each other?”

She gasped, “I never said that!”

Turning around, Elizabeth fished her mobile inside her pocket and pretended to read some “urgent notification”, like she told him, staring at the screen for a long moment until the faint smell of the first drops quenching the soil somewhere near the horizon reached her nostrils and reminded her of the incoming rainstorm.

A quarter after 3pm, the five horses and the four riders arrived safe and dry at the stables. The animals were left at the care of Mr. Walton and his industrious hands, and the four friends walked out cheering but were beaten by the storm in their race back to the manor.

The wind slammed a door, threatened to flip inside out the umbrellas Elizabeth and Luke carried and roused the crowns of trees at the main pathway, inviting them to an eerie dance.

The grey skies tumbled, afternoon turning into night. Cascading cold water washed over and the temperature dropped several degrees, or so it felt after every gush of wind.

The cold, however, didn’t deter the two who declined the umbrellas offered. Laughing and kicking and splashing the water running like a river at their feet, tilting their faces up and sticking their tongues out, they welcomed the drops as the most precious gift of nature.

Elizabeth will never question the benefits of rain. However, given the option she’ll always pick warm sunny days over rainy ones whenever she’s outside and the umbrella cannot protect her against the lashing cold drops.

The longer they stay outside, the more her pants got drenched and her lips quivered; fortunately, the terrace’s steps came to view. Just a few more metres. When she got to dry land with Luke, she dared looking back at the others.

In the pouring rain, arms stretched to the fullest, Hamid and Annabelle held each other’s hands swirling and laughing like it was the first time they were seeing rain.

Her ponytail was stuck to the neck, while locks of his black hair were glued to the forehead and sides of his face.

“I can’t remember the last time I played in the rain!” Annabelle cried, speaking louder than the pitter-patter of the rain against the roof, when they came running to the terrace laughing.

Elizabeth cannot remember either. The last she voluntarily stayed outside in the rain must have been when she was a kid and definitely before her mother got sick. After that, she became increasingly cautious about her own health: eating fruits and vegetables, taking vitamins, avoiding rain and dangerous activities and, most important, she’d do everything possible not to get sick, because she couldn’t afford being unwell and burden her mother. Later, whenever her mother’s health decreased and she needed to be cared, Elizabeth couldn’t bare the idea of doing something stupid and selfish and letting her down... That was the main reason she rarely travelled by herself for longer than a few days; or why she avoided drinking entirely. Except for that one time at seventeen when the prognostic was bad and her mother stayed over a month at the hospital, and she got so utterly sloshed with cheap wine with her friend Renata, she barely remembers anything that happened that weekend and how they came back home from the clubs; even the hangover that lasted an entire day and caused her to miss school at Monday was welcomed. It was good to feel something other than despondent for a change, even if it were the queasiness in her stomach and the obnoxious headache that pounded like a tambourine inside of her head.

Hamid asked something, interrupting her thoughts.

Her brain barely processed the question, and she looked at his eyes closer than anticipated, trying to find out if she missed a long bit of a conversation. Luke and Annabelle were not around anymore.

How long was she silently staring at the rain?

“Are you alright?” The neutral tone didn’t match the concern in his eyes.

How long was she silently staring at the rain?

“Just cold.” To be more convincing, she hugged herself tighter to keep warm, and a tight-lipped smile curled the corners of her lips without reaching her eyes.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? The rain makes everything more poetic.”

“Does it?” she asked. “I can think of a million ways the rain makes everything worse: traffic gets slower, drives us out of the beach during summer, turns everything sad and grey and wet and cold… and makes people sick. And I have a tight schedule. I can’t get sick! So, no, I don’t think it’s poetic.”

“Again, you are being too pragmatic.”

“Or are you being too much of a romantic?”

“I can’t deny that.”

A bright smile in his face, he leaned closer, making sure the wet coat hanging from his arm didn’t drip all over her. Despite the coat being impermeable, the rain had seeped through the collar and darkened his blue jumper, and her eyes followed the droplets still dripping from his hair, running down his face and soaking the fabric.

“But what about how beautiful the world looks? The way puddles reflect the light and façades of buildings? Or the thrill of dancing in the rain?”

“Dancing?” She shook her head. “It only works in movies...”

Slinging his arm over Elizabeth’s shoulders, droplets of water from his hair dripped and ran down his face and peppered her jacket. Too close to her ear, Hamid said, “If you’d give it a try, it’d change your mind. It’s the kind of refreshing experience that reminds how amazing it is to be alive! I’ll happily join you if you wish to try...”

“You know what would truly make me feel amazing right now?” she asked looking up at his face and meeting his eyes.

“Please do tell,” he purred, “especially if it’s something I can provide.”

“Dry clothes and warm chocolate.”

Briar returned from the hospital in time to have one mug of hot chocolate before the two-thermos bottles were completely emptied. A minor injury that resulted in zero broken bones, she told them, but ruined her plans to go out tonight.

“The bad news is I can’t go out with you, guys tonight…” she lamented, “It’s so unfair! I brought the cutest costume to wear tonight.”

To make her feel better, Edmund was catering to her every need, which included an icebag for her ankle, pain medication, a raspberry scone, and the first volume of the published journals of Countess Clara.

“We should stay in, anyway,” Annabelle suggested, “Anything we would do there, we can do here.”

“And in better company,” Hamid added with a charming smile.

While Elizabeth, Annabelle, Hamid, and Luke played another round of Just Dance, Briar had skipped most of the entries of the journal and went straight to the ones about the duel. Reading the most interesting parts aloud, she often stole the competitors' concentration... and was influencing the scores – whether it was on purpose or not, one could only suppose.

“Oh, my God!” Briar gasped. “This is sooo good!”

When nobody asked a follow-up question, she teased some more in a louder sing-a-song voice.

“I know why Lady Clara was so fond of the ruins!”

“You got to that part?” Edmund asked without raising his eyes, too focused on the task of rubbing anti-inflammatory gel on her injured foot.

“Which part?” Elizabeth asked, missing precious points while Hamid nailed all the moves.

“The saucy part!” Briar giggled. “The prince was smooth! Using that last night on earth line on her… Girl dropped her panties like that!” Briar snapped her fingers, then flipped a page. “Listen to this: ‘The moonlight illuminated Hamid’s features while he slowly removed his cape, then his kaftan. My gaze devoured every bit of skin uncovered, and my hand ached to touch him…’ Is it hot in here?” She fanned herself dramatically and Edmund handed her a glass of water.

The game couldn’t compete with the curiosity stirred by the descriptive details of the prince’s physique that followed and after forty-five minutes of uninterrupted dance, some of the players needed a break.

“That lady got dicked down good!” Briar let Hamid read over her shoulder the next paragraphs. “Outdoors pre-marital sex with a hot guy she was not engaged to in 1816: lady was living the life! I stan!”

When she finished reading the parts aloud, Luke, who had plopped in an armchair closer to the windows and observed the rain, asked, “Can we play something else?”

“Why?” Hamid asked. “This is so fun!”

“Only because you don’t suck at it...” Annabelle teased, nudging his side.

“Don’t come at me if you can’t keep up with my moves,” he retorted pulling an intricate combination of steps, she rolled her eyes and they laughed good-naturedly.

“I could use a break...” Elizabeth admitted taking a seat.

“Maybe another round of CoD?” Edmund suggested, and Briar looked puzzled.

“Call of Duty? The combat game?”

“Yes, please,” Briar said, “I don’t know how to play, but I want to kill zombies too!”

“Of course, darling. Hamid can sit this one out, he sucks anyway!”

“Hey,” Hamid protested. “I’m a pacifist. I don’t see the point on blowing anyone’s head off…”

“They’re zombies! Stop making poor excuses,” Annabelle teased.

“Why don’t we play the real zombie game!” Elizabeth said already fumbling inside the box. “Wake the Dead is so good! In the multiplayer we can kill all sorts of zombies.”

While they were preparing for the next game, Annabelle excused herself to go to the lavatory, and Elizabeth heard voices in the corridor.

“Did you hear that?”

“I didn’t hear a thing...” Luke shrugged, while texting.

“It sounded like Theresa’s laugh.”

“Very funny,” Edmund retorted, throwing his stepsister a dirty look.

“I’m not joking.”

“There’s someone outside,” Hamid said, and as if on cue, Theresa’s nasal voice was unmistakable heard through the walls. Instantly, Briar pulled her legs and Edmund bolted upright from his spot on the sofa.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked in a low tone, while rubbing his menthol-scented hands against his trousers, and Elizabeth shrugged.

“Your fiancee, dude... If anybody should know...”

Muttered a string of swearing under his breath, Edmund picked his mobile from a side table and there were seven missed calls from Theresa and an even larger number of messages that he ignored the entire day.

“Bullocks.”

An employee brought a tray with refreshments and announced Theresa’s arrival. The woman could no longer be ignored.

She politely greeted everyone with air kisses.

“Are you happy I came, Edmund?” Theresa asked with a wide smile. Edmund’s eyes squinted when she kissed the corner of his mouth, leaving a lipstick mark that she wiped with her thumb. “Your mother said you would!”

“Did she?”

“Oh! She did! She said: ‘Theresa, go to Edgewater immediately.’” She tried to mimic the countess’ voice, but it was just a lower-pitched version of her own voice. “I asked why and she said ‘because Edmund needs you by his side’ but I said I was busy with Felicity and I was going to do my hair... but she insisted, 'Pack your things now or don’t even bother coming anymore!’ The Countess is funny, I think. But I don’t get her humour sometimes…” She shook her head and grinned at the group. “What are you doing?”

“Playing video-games,” Elizabeth said lifting the controller in her hand. “Do you want to play?”

Clapping her hands, she squealed, “Yes! I do! Edmund never lets me play... Can I?” She looked at him pleadingly and he sighed. Before he could give up his controller, Elizabeth offered hers.

“Here, Theresa. You can play, I'll sit this one out.”

“That’s so kind of you, Elizabeth. Thank you.”

“You’re letting him play with his fiancé and Briar?” Hamid whispered, looking at the women sitting at both of his sides. “You’re devious.”

“I’m not!” She elbowed him. “And I’m not responsible for this situation…”

“It’ll be interesting to watch how it unfolds…”

“Indeed.” Annabelle slung her arms around Hamid and Elizabeth’s shoulders. “And you know what could make it even more interesting?” she asked, but it was simply rhetoric. “Drinking games!”

“I love drinking games!” Theresa and Briar cheered from their places at the sofa, and Annabelle couldn’t be more pleased with herself.

“Correction,” Hamid glanced at her with a sly smile, “you’re the devious one.”

----------------------------------------------

Notes:

[1] canım benim – Turkish expression equivalent to “my dear/my darling” and meaning literally “my soul”.

#desire and decorum fanfic #desire and decorum modern au!#prince hamid #prince hamid x oc #oc: elizabeth foredale #briar daly #edmund marlcaster #edmund marlcaster x briar daly #theresa sutton #annabelle parsons #luke harper #vincent foredale #second chances series #choicesjanuary23 #choicesjanuary2023

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agrastyrashcroft · 2 years

Text

Fire and Ice || Dragonborn OC x Odahviing || Chapter Two

Story Summary: Alduin was slain one year ago by the Dragonborn of my age, Elayne Moorfield. The world was forever thankful for her heroism, and acknowledged her as the realm’s greatest hero. However, for Elayne herself, life wasn’t as steady. Plagued by nightmares of that fateful final battle, she struggled to live a normal life. Here, she recounts her experiences with me, and her peculiar romance with an unlikely being.

Chapter Summary: Odahviing answers Elayne’s call. The two embark on a small adventure, and journey across the land to Winterhold. There, she inquires on an old friend…

Author’s Notes: Anything written in italics should be considered part of a flashback. Furthermore, anything written in bold is Dovahzul, and all translations will be provided at the end. From here on out, anything written below a gif on a Fire and Ice related post will be written in third person, past tense.

Warnings: Spoilers for Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (but we both knew that, right?), mentions of PTSD, brief mentions of death

Word Count: 3.1k

MINORS DNI

Time was, in essence, an ever-flowing phenomenon. What was the past, shall remain. What is the present, shall be. What will be the future, shall prevail. The persistent flow of time was unstoppable, even now, as Elayne stood among the grasses. She was as oblivious to Odahviing’s response as anyone; not even she could know if he’d answer. As the minutes crawled on, she mistook the flapping of bird wings as her ally. A chill breeze crept up her calves, whistling among the branches of juniper berry trees. Silence was all that lingered, now.

Until it didn’t. A loud, thunderous roar swelled in the distance, echoing through the valley of the Reach. Goosebumps pricked her skin in anticipation as she waited even more. Soon after, the familiar beating of large, leathery wings could be heard, cutting through the skies of Tamriel. Odahviing was coming, after all. It didn’t take long for his large, scaled figure to slowly appear in the sky above her, flying into her line of sight. As he flew closer, coming in at around a few hundred feet away or so, she could see him.

He hadn’t changed at all. Time didn’t touch dragons the same way as men or mer. They were, after all, endless beings of immense strength and power. Odahviing’s scales were as ghoulishly red as she remembered, mimicking the appearance of mortal blood. His wings were a mishmash of blues and purples, while his sharp talons resembled swords. Elayne eagerly watched as he finally began to land in front of her, the wind currents picking up loose leaves. Wisps of her red, curly hair briefly floated, before tumbling down to frame her face once more. The great dragon stood before her now, in his grandeur, peering into her mortal eyes.

No words were spoken, at first. Instead, the two stared at one another. Elayne, tired of face and meek of arm, smiled ever so slightly. She’d grown weary of her life, since he last saw her. Perhaps Odahviing could tell, as his glistening, wild eyes never left her. He’d spent the last year of his newfound life plundering where he could, gradually building a trove of treasure within his new home: a cavern high within the Jerall Mountains. Comparatively, the red-winged dragon and The Last Dragonborn used their time differently. However, one simple fact remained. Regardless of what happened in the year that had passed, the two were reunited.

“Hail, Thuri. You have summoned me. I have long wondered when you would. Tiid lost vod fah mu laat tinvaak.” For such a large, menacing beast, he spoke softly, and astutely. Odahviing bowed his head, then slowly raised it again to meet her gaze. “I do not see danger here. Pah los drem.”

“You’re quite right. It’s been… far too long, my friend. Dii fahdon.” With a subtle slip of his mother tongue, Elayne allowed her rigid shoulders to relax. She waited for this day to come, despite her having full control of when it would happen. That was her error; one she solemnly regretted. “You promised to come when called, and to serve me in my time of need in battle. Today, your prowess isn’t required, but something else.”

She paused, the enthusiasm that once gave life to her face fading away. Her facade could only last for so long, and it was clear she was enervated in her resolve. Elayne’s gaze fell to the grass beneath her, unable to conjure the internal strength to pretend any longer. The Last Dragonborn fulfilled her destiny, but no one told her how to handle life after she was done. By the eight, no one warned her of the demons that would haunt her waking nightmares.

Meanwhile, the great dragon waited for her to continue. He vaguely understood how time affected mortals, but not in the same way as Paarthurnax. Odahviing was naive to what troubled his ally, unable to see what bothered her. He’d never admit to his ignorance, though, nor would he be incorrigible. Rather, he welcomed the lull in their conversation. She must need it, if she had to stop halfway through her request.

“Do you remember what you last said to me, before we flew to Skuldafn?” At long last, she resumed, and hesitantly looked at him. Elayne watched as Odahviing unabashedly grinned at her, his teeth showing and his tongue flicking in his maw. Hot steam poured from his nostrils, warming her skin.

“The freedom of the sky calls to you, Thuri. Orin fin Dovahkiin nis qahnaar fin lok.” It didn’t need to be said, but he was right. Odahviing knew it, too. All dragons were seduced by the sweet, sultry summons of the sky. Not even his ally was spared in this regard. He lowered his head, not out of reverence but to allow Elayne to sit upon him. “Tell me, where is it you wish to go? All of Skyrim is yours to behold. Pah do Keizaal los un.”

“You’re always right, aren’t you?” Excitement welled inside her stomach as he lowered his head for her, giving her access to sit in her old spot. Elayne didn’t waste much time, either, climbing on and balancing herself on him. As she did so, she squeezed her thighs against his neck, ensuring she wouldn’t fall off. Reaching for his second set of horns, she held them tight. It was exactly like the first time, when she needed him to escort her to Skuldafn. A relieved sigh escaped her, then. “Just like old times. Now then… I think those wizards in their college could use some thrill. All of those books must be boring them out of their minds.”

“Ol hi uth!”

In a matter of seconds, he took off from the ground, a flurry of boisterous winds erupting from his powerful wings. He soared high above, reaching a high enough altitude before flying off. Odahviing roared contentedly, which Elayne unintentionally felt beneath her legs. Turning her head back, her home—her sanctuary—swiftly faded away in the distance. This was the farthest she’d ever been from Hendraheim, and she wouldn’t give this up for anything else. Breaking the chains of her self-inflicted imprisonment, she was free. Temporary or not, she was liberated.

The flight itself was fast, and didn’t allow for much sight-seeing. Everything on the ground passed by in a blur. However, along the way, she did recognize some notable places, even if spotting them was all she could do. To her left, Elayne saw Karthwasten, then Whiterun to her right. Morthal, even, could be seen from the back of her ally. During the journey, the Throat of the World was always visible. It was the tallest mountain in Skyrim; it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to say everyone in the land could see it.

Soon after, they passed into the snowy region of Skyrim. The clear air chilled significantly, causing her to shiver. No snow hindered Odahviing’s flight, thank the gods, but the cold was still a nuisance. In hindsight, Elayne should’ve dressed better. They soon flew by Dawnstar, a city she didn’t visit much before she isolated herself from the world. Then, ahead, she saw Winterhold. It was a mere shell of the metropolis it once was, disheveled by The Great Collapse. A few buildings remained, but it wasn’t the same. Strangely, the great College of Winterhold remained untouched. It stood tall, the land beneath the campus severed from the rest of the city. The two pieces of terrain were only joined by an unsteady bridge, which led directly into the gates.

“It is desolate here! Ni orin fin dilon bo het!” Odahviing called back, circling the arcane college overhead. He wondered why she chose Winterhold, of all places, when he could take her to much more pleasant places. Why, even his own home was leaps and bounds ahead of this city.

“I know! That’s why I picked it!” She shouted back, removing one of her hands from his horns and gingerly rubbing the back of his head. Elayne peered down at the College of Winterhold, besotted with its glory. She wasn’t the sort to deal with magic, but she respected those who did. Arcana held importance in history; that couldn’t be denied. “Land on the tallest tower! Let’s see what these wizards think of us!”

He found the notion to be meaningless, but he obliged her command. Odahviing perched on the ledge of the tallest tower, as if he were a great hawk stalking his prey. Meanwhile, on top of him, Elayne was smiling again. She didn’t consider herself to be troublesome, or a disturber of the peace as she was once called by a certain Maven Black-Briar, but she enjoyed having fun. If she had to make her own, so be it.

Down below, the wizards attending the college already noticed the dragon flying overhead. Initially, they paid no mind, but now that he landed? It was a slight issue, only because the apprentices were frightened. The higher ranking scholars and teachers gathered together in the courtyard, helplessly staring up. The Arch-Mage, Savos Aren, was also there, and recognized the red-haired heroine on the dragon’s neck. To put it simply, he was annoyed. Magically projecting his voice, he attempted to call to her:

“Elayne Moorfield! Will you get down from there?! You’re frightening my students!” Savos’ tone dripped with toxic agitation, his aged face contorted in anger. “If you have business with us, then speak to us yourself! Leave the dragon out of this!”

“You hear that? They want to talk to me.” She mused, chuckling to herself. Elayne cleared her throat, and with the power of her Thu’um, she responded to him. “Very well! Allow my companion some space to land in the courtyard!”

“You heard her! Everyone move back! Back, I say!” Savos commanded his compatriots, who obeyed without question. Every wizard in the vicinity gave ample space, running to the exterior walls and pressing themselves against it. The Arch-Mage didn’t move, however, remaining where he stood. Not that it mattered; he was mostly out of the way.

“Go ahead and land below.” Elayne’s tender hand moved away from his head and back to the horn she originally gripped, readying herself for him to take off again. “I didn’t think a cold welcome from these wizards would bring me any joy, but alas. It feels good to be back.”

“As you command, Thuri.”

He didn’t dare comment on the offhand comment she made. What did Elayne mean, ‘it feels good to be back’? She never left. Her presence in Skyrim was felt throughout the lands, as he could recall himself. Odahviing remembered how commoners he pillaged cried out for their heroine to save them; they begged the divines to send her to their aide. However, she failed to come. That part, specifically, stuck out to him. She never struck him as the type to cower from battle, especially in the name of Skyrim’s people. Was he incorrect?

The truth escaped him, then. He obeyed her command, flying up once more, only to lower himself on the ground beneath them. The courtyard of the College of Winterhold was almost a sight worth seeing, with its grand statue of the late Arch-Mage Shalidor and clean pathways. Odahviing sat idly, dipping his head down to allow Elayne to disboard. In turn, she swung her legs to one side of his neck and slid off. Her feet landed steadily on the pavement, and she made her way to Savos Aren.

“Savos! You’ve been keeping well, aye? Still the Arch-Mage I see.” She mused, offering a friendly smile. “How have things been here? City guard give you any trouble in recent time?”

“Funny you should inquire upon such things, Elayne. You’re more than familiar with Winterhold’s disdain for the arcane arts, I needn’t remind you.” He huffed, brushing down his robes. “I thought you’d be here to ask about your little friend, Lysara.”

The name itself made her pause. She stood in silence, her eyes narrowing at the bold, brash mage. Lysara Wickwing was a fellow prisoner of the imperials, back when Elayne was captured for crossing the border into Skyrim. She, too, was a Breton, and magically gifted. To this day, The Last Dragonborn still remembered the conversation they shared…

“Well hello there, you took your time waking up.”

A low, guttural groan escaped her lips. Her vision was still blurry, but as she blinked back the grime in her eyes, she finally got the picture. Elayne was in a carriage, with her hands bound, dressed in rags. Immediately after, an annoyed huff billowed forth from her nostrils. Her belongings must’ve been confiscated; she’d have to retrieve those eventually. She knew full well why she was there, despite her foggy mind. Her foolishness and brazen attitude towards immigrating to Skyrim landed her in hot water with a small band of Imperial scouts. Whatever punishment awaited her was well-deserved. How ignorant she was that day.

“Do you talk or not? I’d much rather not spend this wretched carriage ride in silence.”

More talking? Gods, fine. Elayne looked at the person speaking to her, grimacing from the remaining fog. On the carriage bench across from her sat a woman. Judging by her stature, she had to be a Breton; she was too short for a Nord, as well as an Imperial. Her hair was as black as night, and her eyes even darker. The woman’s face was painted ornately, sculpting her young visage in purple hues. Similarly to herself, her hands were bound.

“I can, but I might choose not to.” Elayne rolled her eyes and awkwardly adjusted in her seat. Wood couldn’t be more uncomfortable. “Who are you?”

“Thank you for regaining your manners. Lysara is the name. Lysara Wickwing.” The woman, named Lysara, responded gleefully. Strange, given the circumstances. “And you are?”

“Elayne Moorfield. Pleasure to meet your short-lived acquaintance.” An astute retort, albeit unnecessary. “Why are you here? Surely you didn’t anger the Imperials as badly as I did.”

“Oh, you’re sorely mistaken. You see, I’m a mage. Or, at least, I want to be. I was experimenting with a new spell I learned from my tutor. Fireball; very dangerous to foes, but can backfire rather easily. That’s… what happened. I tried to cast it, but it went horribly wrong.” Lysara’s gaze averted to the scenery ahead of them. It wasn’t much to look at; just a winding, downward dirt road with some trees. “I killed some people on accident, including my tutor. Made the fatal mistake of running away from my home village, Ivarstead. I didn’t think about the consequences when I reached Riften.”

“You really did that? Good gods.” Elayne genuinely sounded shocked, her eyes wide. Accidental manslaughter was enough to earn a long stint in prison, if she correctly recalled. “But I thought Riften was controlled by the Stormcloaks. They don’t answer to the Empire.”

“No, you’re right, but the jarl wished to avoid conflict in her hold. She shipped me off to General Tullius as soon as she could. I can’t blame her for protecting her people. Riften’s been downtrodden for years…” Lysara trailed off, not willing to discuss the matter further. Turning back to Elayne, she cleared her throat. “What about you? What did you do?”

“You might’ve picked up on it, but I’m not from here. High Rock was, and still is, my homeland. There was… bloodshed… where I lived. A raid.” Solemnly, she spoke, her face and body stiffening. “No one survived, except me. Even my family was slaughtered. I could’ve— should’ve died with them, yet I ran. My little knapsack held few belongings, but I didn’t care. I fled.”

“By the gods…”

“You’re telling me. I was a coward that wanted to live. I knew about Skyrim’s conflicts before I came here. Should’ve anticipated my capture from miles away. I didn’t.” Elayne blinked away some fiendish tears, swallowing back a stray cry. “Still, we’re here now. What will happen to us?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know.”

“Know… what?”

“We’re lumped in with the same prisoners as those Stormcloaks. They’re in the cart ahead of us. Ulfric is here.” Lysara spoke quickly, seeing the open gates of a village come into view. She knew the place: Helgen. A small hamlet, not worth talking about. Thankfully for them, they were still a little ways back from it. “We’re being executed, Elayne.”

Few could deny the terror on her face. It was the beginning of the end, when she met Lysara. However, when Alduin unintentionally freed all the prisoners and decimated Helgen, they escaped together. Their paths remained intertwined for a while, until Elayne was tasked with speaking to Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun. She was willing to do it for the sake of protecting Riverwood from the dreaded dragon, but the aspiring mage desired to go elsewhere. At the fork of the road by Honningbrew Meadery, Lysara bid her farewell and went to Winterhold. Ever since that day, they wrote letters to each other. Well… before The Last Dragonborn isolated herself.

She must’ve been standing there for a long time, as Savos had his brows furrowed in confusion. Elayne shook off the memory, quietly embarrassed about sinking into melancholy again.

“How is she?”

“She’s been well. Took to her studies quickly, bright girl. Faralda was impressed with Lysara, but our newest pupil had eyes for something else.” Savos glanced at Odahviing, watching him sit patiently for his ally to return to him. It struck the Arch-Mage as odd that the slayer of Tamriel’s greatest foe would befriend a dragon, but it didn’t concern him. “She found a book on Tamriel’s written record of historical figures. One of those individuals mentioned in that tome interested her. She wanted to find out more about him. I advised against it, as did Faralda. Alas, she was steadfast.”

“What do you mean? She’s gone?” Elayne’s face was a mixture of things. Confused, bewildered… it didn’t make much sense for her to leave the College. Lysara spoke so passionately about magic, and all her letters proved it. “Where did she go?”

“You’re familiar with Solstheim, I assume? It’s an island off the northeast coast of Skyrim.” Savos paused, his face oddly softening. “Lysara left six months ago. Initially, she wrote often, but she hasn’t replied to my letters in a month.”

“Solstheim? What in the heavens is in Solstheim that would interest her?”

“Who, you mean.” Rolling his eyes, Savos tutted at her. “Some long dead warrior. Lysara seemed keen on finding him, despite us telling her he wasn’t around anymore.”

“She never appeared to be the type to abandon her dreams.” Elayne folded her arms, slowly growing impatient and annoyed with the Arch-Mage’s passive aggressive attitude. “Care to tell me who this warrior is? Maybe I know about him.”

“Very well. How much do you know about Miraak?”

—

Translations (provided by thuum.org)

Thuri: my Queen

Tiid lost vod fah mu laat tinvaak: Time has passed since we last spoke

Pah los drem: All is peaceful

Dii fahdon: My friend

Orin fin Dovahkiin nis qahnaar fin lok: Even the Dragonborn can’t resist the skies

Pah do Keizaal los un: All of Skyrim is ours

Ol hi uth!: As you command!

Ni orin fin dilon bo het: Not even the dead would dare come here

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