#SHE REMAINS TOL....

[ciil]

forgot to post these here but my kids in dunmeshi cosplay hehehe i have been enjoying the anime ! !!!

[nrdmssgs]

Prazdnik (part 2)

Masterlist Pairing: Nikto x reader Fluff AN: @sofasoap @keegansshark @yaboidante2711 @ella-bella-ella this wasn't the original plan, but because of you this guy got his kiss. Summary: this happens a few months after the first part.

Nikto lets out a thin whiff of cigarette smoke, that dissolves in crisp air. He is tired by this point. Every time he tries to think of anything, but her - the world finds its ways to remind him. Even now, when he looks up in the dimly lit sky - the curved streaks of clouds remind him of x-rays of her lungs with the subtle curves of ribs. Usually, soldiers got shot, broke their limbs or survived a shell shock, but she just had to be original and to spoil his life in a unique way - she ended up in a medbay with a pneumonia.

He tried to end this all for good, he ignored her, hid away, even tried to start a fight once - nothing helped. At the end of the day he always found himself somewhere around her: quietly hanging out, helping her or letting her help him. Nikto wasn't blind - he saw the way she looked at him. And what was even worse - he secretly started enjoying a feeling of being needed. But there was no way, he could let whatever them two had grow. His 'Prazdnik' ended the minute he stepped out of your room, and should never be repeated. Not at the cost of her frightened eyes, her forever disturbed sleep, her disgust the minute she sees him without a mask.

Time to time Nikto thinks about that touch that almost happened. He was never an innocent one, and he gladly does so many unhinged, unfair, dirty things to women, who are ok with never seeing his face and not being able to meet him again after the deed is done. But when it comes to her - Nikto doesn't want all those sins, that he usually indulges himself in. He craves not even a real kiss - just a touch of her lips against his skin would be enough. It would be ok if she chooses to not even move, not caress him. Just let him feel that warmth, he almost felt.

He frowns at this thought and takes another deep drag. The base is almost empty, except an emergency group, soldiers at medbay, a few office workers and superiors. So Nikto immediately recognizes tall figure moving from barracks to where he is standing.

"Vot tol`ko kalanchi mne seychas ne hvatalo...*" Nikto mutters frustrated and checks if there is any place he could walk away fast enough and seem preoccupied at the same time. But not being able to find any direction, in which he could retreat, he faces the Colonel, hoping, he would keep it short and simple, as usual.

"You staying for the holidays?" Colonels voice is low, he doesn't even hold back his German accent - a rare sign, that the man is exhausted.

"Have some unfinished business." Nikto tries to be as vague as possible, hoping, that it will drain Colonels social battery, and he leaves him alone.

But his commander is in no hurry to leave and hands him some paper. Nikto asks if it's a new contract, but Colonel shakes his hand. "This is for the unfinished business."

He leaves Nikto alone and confused, not wanting to hear his angry rants about how he doesnt need whatever assistance Colonel can provide. Nikto is awful when it comes to gift receiving, everybody in the KorTac knows it.

***

She wakes up with a loud cough in the middle of the night and Nikto immediately pulls her up, so she can sit on the bed straight. Clearing her throat, she reaches for the bedside lamp, but Nikto catches her hand.

"It's just me, don't bother." He pushes her hand back gently, wanting the room to remain dark.

"Andre? How did you?... Why are you here?" She barely breathes after hard coughing, but already dumps him with questions.

Nikto turns away and chuckles quietly. To tell the truth, he doesn't even know what the hell he needs in her hospital room.

"König tinkered me a pass. I thought, it would be a pity to leave you here all alone on the New Year." He lies: he doesn't give a damn about New Year or any other holiday really. Nikto just can't really be else where, when she is like that. He's been restless from the first day of her illness.

A part of him wants to get as close as it is possible, to stay by her side, until she heals fully and even after that. But there are voices appearing, growing louder with every hour. "Run away, run as far as you can, before you grow too soft and traumatize her, you moron!" Nikto is trapped between wanting to leave and needing to stay. So when she pats his shoulder and asks to not worry about her and go celebrate, he comes back to his senses and snaps back at her, 'we are staying!'

By the way her hand darts away from him Nikto understands, that he crossed the line. She is sick, obviously has fever, struggles to breathe normally, and on the top of that comes he with his freakery. He clasps his hands together, so that he doesn't reach back to her and looks down.

"Sorry. We... give me a minute, I'll collect myself." As he speaks - he hears her moving to the opposite side of the small bed. Distant chatter and laughter reach them two through the closed door and Nikto understands, that even medbay staff is celebrating. But the only sound, he now truly cares for is a shuffle of her bedsheets. He scared her off, she now doesn't even feel safe in one room with him. Bloody idiot.

"Come sit here." She touches an empty space besides her. Nikto hesitates for some time, but then surrenders and sits on her bed, making sure, he doesn't squish her accidentally.

"Maybe it's fever, maybe I'm just tired to the end of the year, I don't even care really. I just want to be honest, ok?" She rises from her pillow and leans against his shoulder. He freezes, but then forces himself to nod.

"Good..." She sighs and continues. "Look, I know, I screwed up that 'Prazdnik', I organized. I thought, I just wanted to thank you for everything, but understood too late, I wanted something other. And although I'll never get it - it's ok. I will stop pushing you, annoying you, even talking to you if it helps. But... just today, just for this one night, can we just pretend, I didn't do anything weird on that evening? I really need it."

The moment, when Nikto wants to remind her, she really did nothing weird, and they don't have to pretend, she starts coughing once again. So he brings her closer, letting her practically curl up on his chest. A cough runs in spasms throughout her entire body and Nikto softly strokes her back, repeating 'Nothing weird. You did nothing wrong'. But his mask muffles his voice, and that combined with her coughing makes it impossible for her to hear him. So he leans back on her pillow, softly guides her to lay down on his shoulder, and, praying for it to remain this dark in her room, slowly removes his mask. She doesn't make it hard for him and doesn't turn her face up - just lies obediently, being thankful for this little crack of softness in his cold demeanor, that he shows her.

"I said, you didn't do anything wrong. You just did it all to the wrong guy. All those treats, that improvised desk, I still regret I haven't taken photo of... That silly 'TV', even that branch - it all was so touching. It felt like a real holiday." She doesn't move while listening to Nikto, but he still holds a hand on her head, just in case. Without thinking, he starts playing with her hair. "But you need to do it all for someone real, someone not split into so many pieces, someone, who is more than... well, you know."

She shakes her head and Nikto feels her hand clasping to his side. This half an embrace makes him hold his breath. Something deep inside him shudders and cracks.

"Someone more than you?" She tries to end his phrase, but it is his turn to shake his head.

"Someone more than just remains of a human."

It hurts to stop hiding and say her the truth, but at the same time it feels right. His holiday is over, his celebration is never to come. And Nikto doesn't care anymore - at least he got this minutes, when she held him, before she banishes him for good. Despite all his expectations, she does not push him away.

“I wanted to celebrate the New Year for real. I was going to invite you to my place. Not to my room at the base - but to my home. I know you wouldn’t have come. But I still wanted to invite you. And then this pneumonia...” She coughs again and Nikto strokes her shoulders to make it better. When she finally can breathe again more or less properly, he asks, how would they celebrate if he came.

"Oh, this time I'd make sure, you die of cringe... I'd try to come up with a new recipe and fail ultimately, I'd make you make the 'president speech' this time." She pauses, hearing Niktos raspy low chuckle.

"No, that never happens, you little trouble. I'm not participating in this part of your fantasies."

"Ok-ok, jeez, Andre, I never said, I'd try to force you anyway. I would always ask you. Ask if you can make the speech, ask if you are willing to help me with food, ask if I can... never mind, my message here is maybe you feel broken, torn in pieces. You have every right to feel so..." Nikto is so struck by her sudden change of tone, he doesn't even realize, that her fingers trace lines up his chest and pause over his face, as she continues speaking. "All these pieces, remains, fragments, that call themselves 'Nobody' - they are precious, they are to be treated like human, to be treated with care and love."

He breathes in, trying to find any words for her, but all the words, all the voices, are mixed up in a deafening white noise. So he takes another breath, and another. But nothing changes: no clear words, no thoughts, as if he - not she was on the verge of deliriousness now. Nikto takes her hand and guides it to cover his eyes, not even thinking, she might feel, how ugly his face is. He only wishes for this sensory and emotional overdrive to stop.

And she helps him. Pressing her lips against his, crushing his fears with feather-like touches. Her skin is burning hot, her hands travel from his eyes to cup his cheeks, but Nikto doesn't care right now. Just one more moment of her being this close, one more second of him carefully holding her, one more sigh tickling his skin. He answers to her kiss. Hesitantly, because with all the violence, he holds for his work - Nikto has no violence for her. And kissing her back feels like torturing this treasure of his. He must thank her - not claim. But that self-restrain is strapping his throat with a red-hot collar, smothering him.

Fuck it. A single voice in his head. Loud and clear.

And Nikto lets go. His tongue brushes against her slightly parted lips and he deepens the kiss. He is surprisingly slow, careful, attentive. He is ready to back away at any moment, should she wish to stop. But she doesnt, and his fingers dive into her hair, cupping her head, guiding her so close, that he feels, they share one breath.

When she leans back just slightly - he immediately lets her go, holding his breath and trying to calm rushing heart. Even now he is ready for her to have second thoughts. But she smiles shyly and places a kiss on his burnt cheek.

"Sorry, I must taste like meds." Hearing her whisper he finally starts breathing.

"You taste like 'prazdnik*'. My very own holiday." He stares at the ceiling, not believing, it really happens. While his prazdnik covers his disfigured face with soft touches.

"Vot tol`ko kalanchi mne seychas ne hvatalo...*" - The beanpole... just what I needed

Prazdnik - holyday, celebration

[rachetmath]

Jaune was working as usual until he heard his scroll. He looks to see Blake calling him. He answers.

Blake: Jaune we need to talk.

Jaune: *putting a baby to sleep while controlling kids* Blake I am a little busy at the moment.

Blake: Jaune we need to discuss why you quit your position.

Jaune: I don’t know maybe because I’m not needed and might as well use my time to get stronger and probably be more useful.

Yang: Jaune come on you were plenty useful in the nursing.

Jaune: Yang they have medical professionals. They were fine without me. Plus I go back there every morning. I never left. I even have them on my scroll. They call me too. So what’s the problem?

Robyn: Look we just need you to start pulling your weight and do your job.

Jaune: *triggered*

Kid #1: Ooo you messed up lady.

Jaune”s teacher 1: Honey you felt that, right?

Jaune’s teacher 2: Mm-hm someone about to get their ass beat. And my son is about to do it.

Jaune’s teacher 1: Honey we already got ten kids.

Jaune’s teacher 2: And I love them but their still children. They don’t know how bad adulthood is yet.

Jaune: Little bi- *remembers the children* You know what how about we have a meeting about this okay?

Robyn: Fine.

The next day everyone gathered around for the meeting with Jaune being in the room first. After everyone finished what they had to say, Jaune presented himself and replied.

Jaune: So, everyone good? Okay, I’ll make this quick. I have been doing my job better than almost all of you. Almost.

Qrow: Jaune what do you mean you have been messing up-

Jaune: I know the man who can change into a bird and is a legend yet still can’t watch over a maiden and his nieces for shit is talking to me.

Qrow: Now hold up son I’ll beat-

Jaune: Bro you are the reason Clover is dead. And the reason Tyrian escaped along with Robinhood over there.

Robyn: Hey.

Jaune: And speaking of you, Ms. Hill, how the hell was Penny defending your city better than you or any of your Happy Huntresses considering the amount of citizens who got hurt? 

May: Hey we had to evacuate our citizens cause your team deserted us. 

Jaune: Well sorry, it is not like one of my friends wasn’t kidnapped and was about to die at any given moment. 

Yang: You could have helped.

Jaune: Bitch you told me not to fight. Hell we almost got him back too. Oh. And we were planning to come back. However, we were captured because I was trying to warn someone of an upcoming attack. Which happened and yet some stubborn mother fuckers wouldn’t listen. Cause they were fixated on looking for Penny. 

Winter: Mm he did. But you

Jaune: Yeah-yeah I know, the Ironwood and Ruby bs. And speaking of that wouldn’t James have killed everyone anyway if we hadn’t stopped him?

Qrow: Not to mention Harriet almost dropped a whole bomb on Mantle to kill everyone.

Harriet: Okay rude.

Yang: Okay Jaune-

Jaune: Bitch don’t get me- don’t get me started on you. You have been getting your ass beat as of late. Like in Atlas and Mantle, I don't know how that’s possible, but me and my men, have been carrying you throughout the whole ordeal. All you have been doing was not knowing how to shut the hell up.  

Yang: um…

Jaune: Like you was talking about the Ace-ops and Winter following orders yet you were following Ozpin’s,Ruby’s, Ironwood's and better yet, you were following my orders. At least I was coming up with a plan. I was helping Ren. Being a leader. What were you doing other than Blake?

Blake: Alright Jaune, calm down, You have made your point.

Jaune: Oh no the fuck I haven't. Are you Ruby's sister?

Blake: No.

Jaune: Mm I wonder what drew me to that conclusion considering you have been acting like her sister more than a blond brawler over here? Both moms left her too, yet she looked for the one who never raised her.  

Yang: *tears dropping from her eyes*

Nora: Wow Jaune, that's cold.

Jaune: Nora. Ren. My supposedly two remaining teammates. 

Ren: Come on not again. Jaune, Ruby already told us everything. What can you possibly say that she hasn't told us yet?

Jaune: For someone who was on James's dick you never once tried to snitch on us. In fact you been kinda rude half the time.Then you decided to speak out against Harriet like you and Yang didn't argue before we got caught.

Ren: That was because she was insulting Pyrrha.

Jaune: Which I understand but I thought we were past that already.

Ren: Well I was the reason Winter agreed to your plan. And I was the reason we survived the whale to find Oscar.

Jaune: Emerald and Hazel saved Oscar before we had a chance. We basically went in there for nothing. And you almost started a fight with Harriet. 

Winter: Also I was a little hesitant but I agreed to the plan. Mainly more hostages. You wouldn’t be alive if I hadn’t jumped in.

Jaune: More importantly if I were to have thrown the relic into the mix, which had one question left by the way,  you're telling me Harriet wouldn't agree to let us go. Mainly because they were looking for Penny regardless.

Nora: Wow Jaune you would thrown Penny under the bus that easily?

Jaune: If it meant a negotiation with James, probably, yes. And Nora, weren't you unconscious throughout half that experience? 

Nora: I saved team RWBY.

Jaune: Who hasn't? Cause I recall, Qrow, Oobleck, Gylanda, us, CVFY, Ace-ops, James, and Ozpin. You ain’t special.

Oscar: Damn.

Jaune: Oscar you decided to meet James and try to talk. After he made us wanted criminals. What were you thinking?

Oscar: At least I tried to reassure him. 

Jaune: And you got shot. Mother fucker you were wasting time and our efforts. Next time no one might not be able to help you. And Ozpin? It took a whole pile of shit to happen for you to finally came out and help? 

Oscar(Ozpin): Mr. Arc it was not that bad.

Jaune: He got shot. Manhandled by a Grimm. And beat up by an old man. Come on.

Ozpin: … …

Jaune: Don’t get me started on how you fucked up years before.

Pietro: Jaune. You killed my-

Jaune: I killed Penny and saved Winter. Winter was Ironwood's second in command and was in charge of a whole army during a full-scale invasion. The fact Penny had Weiss, Ruby, Blake, Yang, and Nora to choose from proves she knew all of them weren't up to the task. Plus I was trying to help her but my options were limited. I did what I had to. I’m sorry.

Pietro: You could have-

Jaune: Healed her? I TRIED!!! However let's discuss how I have been carrying every damn body on my back. I had to help Ren multiple times when using his semblance. I had to heal Oscar. Heal Nora. Amplify Weiss and Penny when it came to her virus. Hell fourth wall breaking did anyone think for a second I amplified Ren ahead of time so he can mask those same thousands of people.

RWBY fan: …. ….

Jaune: All that while running, fighting and surviving while having barely enough sleep or energy. Hell, my aura kept breaking multiple times. I am surprised I haven't passed out yet.

Winter: Mm he made his point.

Weiss: Winter, why are you siding with him so quickly?

Winter: First off I am alive because of him. Second, Weiss, you lied to my face. Like I was open with you and you never once came to me with the truth. I'm your sister. You're lucky I was willing to side with you at all.

Jaune: Facts. And for someone who lived in Atlas, you barely did shit to save it. 

Weiss: I sent ships to help Mantle.

Winter: That's the thing though Mantle. You did nothing for Atlas at all. And how did you send those ships?

Weiss: Well it was mainly Whitley.

Winter: I rest my case.

Jaune: Also aren't you Ruby’s partner? Why are Oscar, Blake, and myself filling in those shoes more than you? 

Yang: Well in the Ever After you-

Jaune: I was trying to find a way home by learning the story. But as the saying goes, “Don’t trust everything you read.”  And sorry for protecting a civilization from killing itself even though that was the only thing keeping me sane.

Yang: *silent*  

Blake: They came back though.

Jaune: They don’t remember me or their past lives. They died and came back only to die again. Not to mention I had to leave my second and long-time companion and place her in the care of a rat. Not only that I had a whole map of the Ever After. I wasn't playing around. I was seriously trying to find a way home. Yet you called me crazy.

Blake: *silent* 

Jaune: Here is what I am saying, true enough I can't fight for anything but I at least help in areas none of you can seem to grasp. I have to sacrifice my mental and physical well-being to support ya’ll. I have been doing my job as a huntsman, teammate and a friend than almost any of you. 

Nora: But Jaune you’re our leader we need you.

Jaune: I recall the majority of times you two barely follow my orders. Ruby is your leader. I don’t recall having a team move with either of you. Not just that you have Oscar and Emerald so fuck both of you. 

Ren: Are we that bad of a team?

Jaune: Yeah, and what’s crazier is I have a family I haven’t seen in years yet I’m still prioritizing a city full of savages, and you all as my friends when I can just pull a Raven and leave you be.

Yang: DUDE!!

Jaune: I’m just saying I could leave and nothing would change. Now I’m leaving cause I got a job to do!*leave*

Qrow: Well damn.

Nora: I guess we all made mistakes.

Ren: Yes.

Weiss: I’m going to call Ruby and see if we can hang out.

Yang: Can we make that a double?

Oscar: Um Nora do you think-

Nora: Calm down Oscar. Jaune may be upset but he’ll be fine. He wouldn’t leave us like that.

A few weeks later.

Ruby: Hey everyone we’re back.

Team RWBY saw a crying Nora in Ren’s arms and defeated Qrow comforted by Oscar. Ruby looks to see a letter and picks it up. Ruby and her team read the letter. Afterward, Yang is shocked, and Weiss is sad as Blake comforts them. Ruby on the other hand steps out and then stares at the sky. A tear flows down her eye.

Ruby:  Well, at least you have the common decency to tell me what you’re up to. But still…*sigh* Hope you find what you're looking for my friend. And… … Please… come back safely.

Jaune was flying on a Nevermore along with Emerald who snuck aboard to his surprise. Jaune, though irritated, continued flying as she held onto him.

Emerald: I can’t believe you tamed a Nevermore. 

Jaune: Yeah-yeah anyways why did you follow me here?

Emerald: Hey someone has to watch your back.

Jaune: You are the last person I want to cover my back.

Emerald: Well don’t be rude. But also…

Jaune: What?

Emerald: Jaune… Salem is after you.

Jaune: Really? Why? I don’t recall being a silver-eyed warrior or Ozpin’s vessel. So why me? Also, how do you know?

Emerald: Mercury told me and even he doesn’t know. He just overheard Tyrian about you.

Jaune: I fought with him a week ago. (Should’ve killed him too.) Still doesn’t make sense though. Did he hear anything from Cinder?

Emerald: No. 

Jaune: Look I already left the kingdom. Cinder mainly wants Ruby dead. And Salem will be too preoccupied to do anything about me. We’re under clear.  

Somewhere in Vacuo, Tyrian and Mercury were speaking to Salem and Cinder through one of her sphere Grimm. Salem hears Jaune has left the kingdom of Vacuo and is enraged.

Salem: WHAT?!

Tyrian: I’m sorry mistress. Please calm down.

Salem: *breaths* Very well. Cinder will meet you both in Vacuo. Therefore we will split our efforts into two. You three along with our allies will search and kill the Summer Maiden along with team RWBY and their annoying friends. I will send a request to half of them to assist me in finding him. I may even need them.

Tyrian: Them ma’am?

Salem: Yes, them.

Tyrian: Very well my queen. We will not fail you.

Salem ends the call while Cinder stands before her with an angered look in her eye.

Salem: What is it, my dear?

Cinder: Why are you after Jaune?

Salem: Why do you ask?

Cinder Ma’am, I don’t mean to be rude but that boy isn’t worth our efforts at all.

Salem: Hm… really? So how come he’s alive?

Cinder: By sheer luck of course.

Salem: True. However, there is no doubt he has gotten in the way of our plans. Like with killing the Schnee girl. Or getting the winter maiden’s power. 

Cinder: *nervous* Those were my failures, ma’am.

Salem: Regardless I need him alive.

Cinder: But why though.

Salem: His semblance and aura. With his semblance along with Gillian's, I might be able to push our army further to evolution. But I need his power to do it. 

Cinder: Then allow me to-

Salem: *snaps* 

Cinder was shut off as she could feel pain from her Grimm arm. Salem turns around and looks to Cinder and say as she closes in on her.

Salem: I recall sending you to handle said children and what happened? Oh. You costed me knowledge. You lost the maiden powers to another huntress. Hazel and Emerald betrayed us. And worse of all you lost two useful people. 

Cinder: But I gave you creation. Surly that makes up- *feels greater pain*

Salem; Ever since you came back you have been getting cocky and more foolish by the day. Draining my resources. Right now, all I want from you to do is simply play nice and follow orders. Like a good little doll. 

Cinder was terrified as she stared at Salem’s as she leaned down to look closer at Cinder’s frightened gaze.

Salem: Understand this Cinder. I was the reason you managed to obtain and control that power you have in your possession. However, you so far have continued to prove how undeserving you are of said power and responsibility that comes with it. So let me break this down for you. If you so much as make a mistake, further disrupt my plans, or worse fail me…

Cinder: … …. 

Salem: I will take everything from you. Do you understand child?

Cinder: Yes m- *screams* Yes… my queen.

Salem: Good. Now leave. 

Cinder gets up and leaves for Vacuo. Salem on the other hand walks around her castle until she reaches her destination. There she opens a huge door. She walks through the door only to be greeted by multiple eyes.

Salem: Hello my children.

???: Greetings Mother.

Salem: Mother is sorry. I wish I didn’t have to send you to do this. But there is no one but you that I trust to do this task

???: Anything Mother.

Salem uses her Grimm to present an image of the target.

Salem: Find this boy. Do however you feel it takes to bring him back alive. 

???: May we have fun hunting him Mother.

Salem: *smile* Of course, my children. You may torture him and do as you see fit.

???: Yes mother. It shall be done.

Salem: Then go. 

[eldal0te]

He plans on building himself a cabin in the woods, away from civilization and regaining the contact with others slowly. 

If it were his decision, Maedhros would probably go on and start appearing publicly again, but it might be kinder on other people not to. He’s relearning self-control and respecting boundaries, he’s not going to leap into politics immediately. (He will get into politics again soon, that much he is sure of, just not perhaps this soon.)

The cabin in the woods sound more appalling every time he thinks about it. Too far away from people, how is he meant to re-accustom others to his presence when there are no others around?

He mentions so much to Caranthir the next time he ends up laying on his brother’s couch, smoking some suspicious leaves Amrod apparently dropped of a few weeks earlier and Moryo just laughs. 

„We have a house on Tol Eressea. My wife hates the island, but the taxes for selling property there are horrendous.”

„You’re offering I could stay there?”

„Transferring property to family is free. Promise to reimburse us sensibly once you are able and it’s yours.”

„Your wife won’t mind?”

„She’s been offering the house to every reasonable relative, you’re the first who even considers it. Trust me, she’ll be delighted”

„You know, you were always my favorite brother”

(In a hindsight, he should have probably asked why does his sister in law hate this house so much.)

The first time he saw her, Maedhros was convinced he had seen a ghost.

(She lives on this island, it’s the newest, biggest market they just opened. Why should she not be there?)

(If only he haven’t seen her on bloody a marketplace before.)

The second time it happens, Elwing sees him too and freezes. He considers approaching and apologizing, but Fingon keeps giving him the talks about giving people space, so instead he just nods and gets out of there.

(He considers mentioning that meeting to Fingon, but decides against it. They are only starting to be at ease with one another again and that would worry him too much.)

They keep running at one-another and he knows she’s uncomfortable. He is too. For a brief moment, he plans on giving up this doubtful pleasure (really, new market or not, why are there so many people there, all buying spices?) and going back to shopping on a smaller, local market but then she deliberately snatches the last pink melon from the stand after seeing him reach for it and that really pisses him off. 

(Fingon was going to visit, and considering how one flavor he always adored was that of pink Vanyarin melons, Maedhros really doesn’t think he can be blamed for his later actions.)

A week later, he overhears her talking to a woman he can only assume to be Galadriel’s daughter about needing to buy cloves for Earendil’s favorite dish and promptly makes sure to purchase all the remaining ones.

It’s a war now and there’s no knowing who will break down first.

Afterwards, it would be foolish not to expect a retaliation, so the next time Fingon visits he makes sure to get to the market extra early. He reaches the melon-seller, just to be informed that all of the fruits have already been sold out.

A seagull laughs at him.

Better person would have given in. Luckily, he really doubts that Elwing sees him as a better person.

He persuades Caranthir to help him bribe the vendor into sending the next month’s delivery of cloves directly to his house.

(In a hindsight, the unfortunate chain of the house’s ownership is to be blamed on birds. They shit on the porch constantly. Elwing really does not control the local pigeons (but will not, under any condition, ask them to stop, not while he is holding the cloves hostage). It’s not her fault he moved into this neighborhood. They even exchange a couple of semi-polite letters on this matter.)

A couple of years latter, Elrond almost gets an aneurysm after coming across his mother and Maedhros shopping together and discussing which of the vendors has the best tomatoes. 

[emyn-arnens]

In Due Time

Celebrían/Elrond | G | ~800 words | @nolofinweanweek | AO3

Celebrían, pale in the light of the silver lanterns that hung about their bedchamber, sat silent before Elrond as he treated her wounds. Ever since she had been brought back to Imladris, she had seemed to him ghostly and ephemeral, as if at any moment she might disappear from beneath his hands.

As he smoothed a salve over her lingering wounds, Celebrían made no response, neither crying out in pain nor flinching from his touch. Few of her wounds now remained; most of the wounds that had scored her body had faded to red, puckered scars that ran down her back and limbs like knotted ropes. Those he rubbed a different salve on, one to fade their color and lessen their knotted appearance. His movements as he worked were slow and gentle, soothing.

Celebrían had said little of what had happened to her in the dark dens of the Orcs, but the wounds upon her body and the instruments of torture that Elladan and Elrohir had found when they had hunted down the last remaining Orcs and driven them back to their dens had told the story of her suffering well enough. Her silence had said the rest.

Would that it had been him instead of her who had suffered at the cruel hands of the Orcs.

Elrond brushed Celebrían’s hair, limp and lank, away from her shoulders, tracing the lighter scars that netted her shoulders. These he did not treat; they would fade in time, for the wounds had been shallow.

Time. Every day he felt as if he had less of it, as if their days together were drawing to an end, as surely as winter nipped and howled at the heels of autumn. She would not stay here. Every day he grew more certain of that.

He brushed his thumb over a light scar, then bent and softly kissed her shoulder. Celebrían made no response.

Closing his eyes, Elrond pressed his forehead against the crook of her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, wishing that if he held her tight enough, she might stay.

If only he could mend hearts and spirits as well as he could mend skin and bone. If only he could reach her and draw her back from the dark places she now walked in her mind. 

If only his love were enough.

A tear fell upon his arms, then another, and then another. Elrond wrapped Celebrían tighter in his embrace.

He held her long into the night.

— — —

They were alone at last.

It was now the late watches of the night, for Elrond’s arrival upon the shores of Tol Eressëa had heralded a flurry of long-anticipated reunions and first meetings that had lasted well into the night. So, too, had Galadriel, Mithrandir, and the Ringbearers been greeted with exultation. Avalloné had not seen such gladness and merriment for many long years of the sun, or so Celebrían had told Elrond. He thought perhaps she was exaggerating for his benefit.

Tilion now rode high in the sky, and his silver light fell upon their bed as Celebrían sat before Elrond, her hair pulled over her shoulder as he undid the laces of her gown. His fingers were clumsier at the task than they had once been, having forgotten the motions in their long years apart, but Celebrían sat patiently before him nonetheless.

Elrond slid the gown from her shoulders. The faint scars upon her back gleamed silver in the pale light of their room. He brushed his fingertips over her skin, marvelling. No longer was her skin knotted into red ropes. In their places were faint silver lines, smooth to the touch.

“They are no more,” she said, and Elrond heard the smile in her voice. “I asked Finrod for a salve,” she continued. “He told me that he had lessened his own scars with the use of one, and I thought that I might use it upon mine. It was not as effective as the one you made for me, but it worked well, and the power of this land aided it.”

Elrond smiled softly at her praise. “You have met Finrod?”

“He is even kinder than the old tales said.”

Elrond bent to kiss her shoulder. “You must introduce me,” he murmured.

Celebrían reached up and twisted her hand in his hair, holding him against her. “In due time,” she said.

He hummed against her skin and pressed a kiss to her neck, lingering. “Yes, in due time.”

Celebrían turned her head, smiling, and met his lips with hers.

[pursuitseternal]

PursuitsEternal Tolkien Masterlist: A collection of First Age Sauron, Annatar fanfics

Summary: Sauron x f!Reader, dub con, breeding, werewolf smut.

Reader x Sauron. You are Galadriel, seeking the tomb of your dead brother in Tol-in-Gaurhoth.

As you stumble in through the dark, you seek a way to fill the empty void deep inside you. What you don’t expect is to be hunted by Sauron’s spirit, still wielding his Werewolf form. You think he will come to kill you, but he aims to do so much more.

Summary: Lady Galadriel alone suspects Lord Annatar, Lord of Gifts, to be more than he appears. Seeking to reveal him for the deceiver she believes him to be, she finds herself no longer alone in his private chambers. And he wants to give her a gift.

Summary: Retelling of “Beren and Luthien:”

His curse demands the love of one Being of Light, a being Sauron has found in his very path. But he remains trapped by Huan and Luthìen’s curse, stuck in werewolf form until the magic is broken. Galadriel cannot deny that this Dark Wolf has saved her from Orcs, soldiers sent to skin the former Dark Lord for his failure in Tol-in-Gaurhoth. Nor can she deny the growing attachment she has for his snuggles and kisses, her faithful Dark Wolf.

Summary: Dead Dove, Breeding, ABO

When Galadriel is the one captured along with Beren’s company, the dark of Tol-in-Gaurhoth is the least that will make her body shiver. Hints of A/B/O, Forced Heat, Questionably forced Breeding, Bestiality Dead Dove to come, and also talking werewolves.

🎨 by @marimosalad 💞

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Morgana AU Pt 8

To Kara's lack of surprise, Gwen comes with them to Tol.

When Morgana looks at her with doubt in her eyes, Gwen merely gazes back.

"The last time you tried to change Camelot, I couldn't follow you," she says firmly. "Now I can-- with a full heart."

Together with the druids they'd been captured with, they journey to their new home. At first, it is no different from when they had lived in the woods, but soon huts are erected, providing not only shelter, but homes. In the early weeks, they live on edge, waiting for the eventual attack to come-- but their days and nights remain peaceful.

Before long, their settlement puts down roots-- healers build their stores of herbs, weavers erect looms, and no one feels like running anymore.

One day, Kara finds Morgana gazing out across their home, her features thoughtful. Kara comes to stand beside her, and finally nudges her playfully.

"You did this," she points out. "You took a risk."

"Someone had to. We couldn't continue as we were. Not if we were to survive."

"More will come, when they hear of what you've built." Kara looks at her friend. "Are you ready for what's to come?"

Morgana exhales. "I'll have to be."

---

It was never an if, but a when that Lena and their friends would come for Kara. So when a swirling portal opens up on the outskirts of their settlement in Tol, months later, it's less of a surprise than an eventuality.

All but Kara, Morgana and Gwen flee, leaving just the three of them to greet the figure that steps out of thin air.

Lena's eyes lock on Kara. She visibly exhales in relief as Kara surges towards her, and grips her just as tight when Kara wraps her arms around her.

"How long has it been?" Kara mutters.

"Nine days," Lena returns, a murmur into Kara's shoulder.

This time it's Kara's turn to sigh with relief. "Good. I haven't missed much."

Lena chokes out a laugh, pulling away slightly.

"No, but I certainly have," she says, tugging lightly on Kara's hair, now many inches longer than when Lena last saw her. Finally, Lena's gaze pulls from Kara to regard the two figures behind her.

"Friends?"

Kara nods. "Friends."

"I'm sorry," Lena tells her. "But the portal won't remain stable for long--"

"I know." She doesn't know how Lena managed to generate the tech, or how she was located, in just nine days-- another one of Lena's miracles. "But I have a moment?"

Lena nods. "Yeah," she whispers.

Kara reluctantly parts from her, letting their fingers trail apart, and makes her way back to Gwen and Morgana.

"We knew this was coming," Gwen says tearfully, "but I suppose part of me hoped it wouldn't."

"You'll be okay," Kara tells her firmly. She glances at Morgana. "Both of you will be."

"Hope, help, and compassion for all, even to the last."

Kara jerks-- she hasn't uttered those words since she found herself in this time and place. There's no conceivable way Morgana could know them-- save if she was seeing more in her dreams than she let on.

Morgana smirks.

Kara fights the urge to roll her eyes, and takes Morgana's hand.

"I'm proud of you," she says. "Don't ever lose sight of the people who love you."

"And you," Morgana returns, nodding towards where Lena stands, watching.

Gwen smiles softly. "She must love you dearly, to come all this way." Her eyes are warm when she gazes up at Kara. "Be well, Kara."

Kara nods. "I will."

[aylen-san]

Werewolf Troubles in Aman

Aman, the end of the First Age

Finrod Felagund sat on the marble steps of his parents' palace, pondering his new and unusual state. The surrounding garden was bathed in the soft light of the setting sun, and the air was filled with the aromas of rare flowers brought from all corners of Valinor. After his unfortunate death at the hands of a werewolf and his swift resurrection in Valinor, he had discovered an unusual ability he had never possessed before. He could now transform into a wolf. Despite all his efforts, he had not yet learned to fully control the transformations, although he remained fully conscious when he became a beast. This was both intriguing and extremely inconvenient.

Finrod recalled his encounter with Sauron in the dark dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, where his life had ended so abruptly. But now, in the peace and safety of Valinor, those memories seemed distant and almost unreal. Nonetheless, the shadow of the past continued to haunt him, and his new ability only amplified this feeling.

Finrod's gaze wandered over the magnificent architecture of the palace, reflecting the sun's gleam on the marble columns and golden decorations. He understood that his situation had changed forever. He needed to learn to live with this gift or curse, and he knew it would not be easy to manage alone.

"Finrod, dear, what are you doing outside? Come inside, your father wants to talk to you," called his mother, Queen Eärwen, her voice soft and melodious like the rustle of leaves in the wind.

"Yes, mother, I'm coming," replied Finrod, standing up and heading towards the palace. He cast a final glance at the garden, hoping that the tranquility of nature would help calm his inner turmoil.

As he entered the hall where his parents awaited him, he felt a familiar stirring within his chest. "Oh no, not now," he thought, trying not to panic. The magnificent hall was adorned with splendid tapestries and wood carvings depicting scenes from the history of the Noldor. The chandeliers made of sparkling gemstones filled the room with soft light, but even this splendor could not calm the storm rising inside him.

Finrod met his father's gaze, King Arafinwë, and saw concern and anticipation on his face. "Finrod," began Arafinwë, but Finrod was already struggling to maintain his human form. Clenching his fists, he tried to focus on his father's words, but the inner stirring grew stronger.

"Finrod, dear, we are so glad you have returned," his father, King Arafinwë, began. "But we need to discuss something important... How do you feel after everything that happened?"

"Oh, I feel... um... wonderful, father. Everything is fine," Finrod lied, hoping he could hold out until the end of the meeting.

"You look tense, son," Arafinwë noted, his voice full of care and understanding. "Is something bothering you?"

At that moment, Finrod couldn't hold back any longer. He felt fur starting to break through his clothes, and his legs began to turn into paws.

"Um, father, mother, I think you need to see this," he said, feeling his face begin to elongate into a snout.

Eärwen and Arafinwë watched with concern. In an instant, where their son had stood, there was now a majestic wolf with golden fur and deep, intelligent eyes that still held Finrod's human consciousness. He lowered his head, trying not to meet his parents' eyes but felt their genuine surprise and concern.

"Finrod..." Eärwen said, stepping closer and cautiously extending her hand. She didn't know how to react, but the love and care in her heart urged her to try to comfort her son, no matter what form he took. "We will figure this out together, don't be afraid."

Arafinwë, though shaken, remained composed. "We will find a way to help you, son," he said firmly. "We will speak with the wisest in Valinor and learn how you can control this power."

Finrod nodded, the tension within him easing, and he whimpered softly, nudging his father's leg with his snout. Arafinwë, though astonished, gently placed his hand on the wolf's head, trying to soothe him.

"Everything will be alright, Finrod," he said softly, feeling his son tremble.

Eärwen came closer, kneeling beside Finrod and gently stroking his back. "We are with you, son," she said, her voice full of love and support. "You are not alone, hear me? You are not alone."

Finrod felt the warmth and care emanating from his parents, which helped him calm down a bit. Deep inside, he knew that with their help, he could overcome any difficulty.

Finrod focused, envisioning his elven face. Images flashed in his mind: clear eyes, high cheekbones, golden hair falling in waves. He remembered his travels in Beleriand, his friends, and his mission. Now that his parents knew his secret, transforming from a wolf back into an elf became easier. Gradually, the fur began to recede, and his paws turned back into slender legs. His snout returned to human features, and his long claws became fingers once more. Finrod's heavy breathing evened out, and within moments, he stood before Eärwen and Arafinwë again, glowing with the light of Valinor.

He lifted his head and looked his parents in the eyes.

"Thank you," he said, his voice quiet but full of gratitude. "I was afraid I might frighten you."

Eärwen smiled, gently hugging her son. Arafinwë nodded, his face expressing pride and determination.

"Now we need to think about how to help you control this power."

The three of them stood in the magnificent hall, surrounded by shining tapestries and splendid decorations, knowing that a challenging path lay ahead.

"Is this a new fashion in Middle-earth?" Eärwen asked after a while.

"No, mother," Finrod muttered, struggling to understand how it had come to this. "It's Sauron. Well, his magic. After I died, I... was resurrected with this ability."

"I see," Arafinwë sighed. "Well, son, you've always been unique, but this is certainly a new addition to our family traditions. Although, perhaps, you should stay away from the trees when you're in this form," Arafinwë joked. "Our gardeners won't be pleased to find giant paw prints on the flowerbeds."

Finrod chuckled.

"I promise to be careful."

Eärwen looked at her son, smiling. "You know, maybe you could use your abilities to scare off thieves? Put up a sign: 'Beware of the vicious wolf!'"

Finrod laughed, picturing such a scene. "Yes, that would definitely solve the garden theft problem!"

Arafinwë, maintaining a light-hearted tone, added, "And if we train you to bark at uninvited guests, our palace will become the safest place in Aman."

Finrod nodded, laughing, "Alright, I'll be your personal guard. But, I hope you will find a way to help me control these transformations. Otherwise, I'll need to keep a constant supply of bones."

Eärwen laughed and hugged Finrod tightly. "We are with you, son. No matter what happens, we will always support you."

Finrod nodded, feeling the tension gradually ease. The three of them stood, enjoying the moment of closeness and support. However, it was clear that serious discussions and difficult decisions awaited them.

[acourtofthought]

Have you read HOFAS (and any bonus chapters)? If so, what did you think about our ACOTAR characters and what it might say about their future books? If not, when are you planning on reading it?

I have!!

I have a few more detailed posts on why I believe what I believe but to summarize it, these are my predictions for SJMs future books:

It's interesting that 3 - 4 months after her HEA with Cassian, where she found her home in the HOW, her friends, her purpose with the Valkyrie, where she realized Rhys is her brother and had offered her kindness, where she ended her book visiting their fathers grave with her sisters who were smiling and beckoning at her to join them, that she's suddenly struggling to find her way (as evidenced by the exchange when she and Ember say their goodbyes).

To me, the biggest part of Nesta's life has always been her acting as Elain's protector and if Elain is no longer in the NC, having set off on her own journey with Lucien, I think that could be a big part of her sudden identity crisis. Possibly contributing to why she was so willing to part with the Mask, a bit of a reckless action. She could no longer help Elain so she turned and helped Bryce instead.

I think the next ACOTAR book will be Eluciens and we'll see resolution to the Vassa / Spring / Beron / Koschei / Peace Treaty plotlines. I don't think it will turn into a major battle, I think Elucien's arc will be that of stopping the threats and securing peace between the fae on the continent, the humans, and the fae in Prythian. I think that also closes out the ACOTAR series as we know it now, the one that revolves around the journey of Feyre and her sisters.

I think the book SJM has planned after that, the secret project she's excited to work on but won't say what world it's set in, will be the story of Miryam and Drakon and the Seraphim but set 500 years back. SJM said she imagines she'll feel emotional writing it because of who might show up and I'm wondering if that means we'll get glimpses of a younger Rhys, Cassian and Az, but also a look at Rhys's sister before her murder (I think it meant something that Az brought her up in HOFAS).

I think that story could also be relevant to future ACOTAR books because Miryam and Drakon are now in possession of the Cauldron. HOFAS did put the spotlight on the Cauldron in Prythian and in SF, a shudder runs down Cassian's spine as he thinks what might happen if it's awoken again. Giving us the backstory on the land where Miryam and Drakon reside with their people ties in nicely to possible future storylines.

After that I think SJM will move forward with her new series, one that is set the ACOTAR world but is no longer focused on Feyre's story. I think the new series will heavily involve Gwynriel, Mor / Emerie, and more of Nesta's journey and will further connect SJMS worlds with new crossover content.

I think we'll see the Prison lands being turned into Valkyrie territory with them gaining more female warriors as they work towards becoming an elite fighting unit of hundreds / thousands. I think Mor and Emerie might be the ones to oversee the land, with Mor ending up as a female descendent of Theia who can wield Gwydion and Az giving TT to Emerie (Nesta would be the general of the Valkryie but still remain living in the HOW).

I think the Valkyrie will be the defenders of the portal that exists there, protecting their world from outside threats, threats that I think will be drawn to Prythian because of the Cauldron and Merrill. I think Az will end up overseeing the Illyrian (the way Devlon currently does) and the Illyrian will remain the defenders of the portal that exists on Ramiel, with he and Gwyn either living in the townhouse or the cabin in Illyria.

And I also think we'll see a major battle at the end of that new series, with members of the IC / the Illyrians / the Valkyrie world walking and defending a threat outside their world, possibly teaming up with Bryce and Aelin. I feel there's a reason we were told that Nesta can move through time and space and that she'd use the mask to call thousands of the dead (with the added, "but not yet" in SF).

I think that Lucien and Elain will take up the High King role during these times, where they're not necessarily in charge of leading the battle so much as ensuring the peace remains across their own world between the different lands. I could also see Lucien helping Nesta destroy the mask at the end of it all. I think HOFAS makes it clear that Nesta will always be at risk for losing herself to it and as Helion has a connection to it, I think Lucien as his son does too. I also like the idea of Lucien and Nesta having a brother / sister bonding moment where she truly embraces him if he were the one to help her get rid of it once and for all.

Thank you for the ask, if you want you'll have to send an anon and tell me if you have any predictions yourself!

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

A new life

Day 2 prompts: Exploration

For: @silmarillionepistolary

Rating: General Audience

Character: Finarfin

Epistolary format: Journal entries and letter

Themes: Soft | Fluff | Exploration

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.1K words

Summary: Finarfin writes about his journey to Alqualondë, his first impressions of the city and the royal family.

A/n: OC name meanings

Lirulinwë, a Noldor Captain of Finwë's Household Guards - Lirulin: Lark | wë (suffix generally used for male names)

Eärerossë, wife of Olwë and Queen of Alqualondë - Eäre (a variation  of Eär, Sea) | Rossë (foam)

This is also available on AO3

Ingoldo Arafinwë’s journal

51st day of Y.T. 1278— The journey to Alqualondë was not long, but others say that there were a great many things to see along the way. I have often traveled west with my father and mother and the others, to Ilmarin and Valimar and beyond, but never have I traveled east. My mother told me all that she knew of the city and the lords and ladies that dwelled within it. She assured me I would find no cause for disappointment, and I did not doubt her in this.  

She came to Tirion’s square to bid me farewell, as did my father and sisters and full brother, and all the others. Of my half-brother Fëanáro, I saw little. He attended the feast my father held in honor of my new station as his ambassador in King Olwë’s court, albeit very briefly. He ate little, drank even less, and chiefly spoke with his own wife. Then he made his excuses and departed, but others from his family—my sister by marriage and my nephews, his sons—remained. I had held on to the hopes of some deeper understanding, of my half-brother and I meeting on middle ground, but as the years pass, that hope grows smaller and smaller, and I fear Fëanáro and I will only ever be brothers by blood, and not brothers by bond.  

“Pray do not take Fëanáro’s indifference to heart,” my mother said in comfort. “He is an elf grown, and must choose his friends and acquaintances without interference from others. Set your eyes on your new task and your new life. Alqualondë will reward you in many ways; wait and see.” 

“Write to us as often as you can, my son,” my father added, “and remember me to Olwë when you see him.” 

“I will remember you to your dear friend,” I swore. “And I will write to you all, father. You have my word on this. Farewell!”

51st day of Y.T. 1278.— What a difference a day’s journey makes! Already, the great tower and white walls and sparkling sands of Tirion are behind us, and the Calacirya is on either side of us. A great river split the land between the mountain passes, and it flowed directly into the Bay of Eldamar. I will be remiss if I do not mention that the pass is more than what it appears to be. Jewels of all shapes and hues can be found jutting out of exposed rock, and they glitter like lamps of a thousand shades when light from the Trees falls upon them. We halted briefly to rest, and I took this opportunity to carve out as many slivers as I could find. I will send these to my mother and sisters. Irimë in particular loves such jewels, and they will, no doubt, adorn her chambers and her garments in one form or another.

Later, during the waning of Laurelin and the mingling of the lights—We rested briefly again on the edge of the shore, this time to have a meal, and with Tol Eressëa within our sight. Even from afar, the lamps of Avallónë, Tathrobel and Cortirion could be seen with our eyes. All gold and silver, they glittered like stars in the heavens.

“Do many people still live there?” I asked.

“Aye, my lord,” replied Lirulinwë, a captain of Father’s household guards. He knelt beside the fire and roasted the fish we caught from the river. Another warrior was passing around cups of mulled wine. “Mariners, mostly. And nobles hailing from the city, whenever they are in need of respite.”

The captain was chosen to lead the warriors escorting me and the gifts I was tasked to carry to Alqualondë. I saw no need for so many lavish gifts or such precautions; Lord Melkor has been safely confined to Lumbi, and Alqualondë is a prosperous city. Nevertheless, my father, bless him, still insisted on it.  It would not do, he said, for his ambassador and a prince of the Noldor to arrive in another king’s fair city with empty hands and without a proper escort. Olwë might think poorly of us for it. And I am not ashamed to say that I yielded to his entreaty. Father is troubled enough as it is; I have no desire to add to the many cares weighing down on his shoulders.

“What if I wish to go there?” I inquired after accepting my wine.

The captain made himself comfortable on the sand after passing plates of the cooked fish. “Simply ask the king, my lord; I am certain he will agree to arrange a ship to take you.” 

A ship. One of the fabled swan ships, no less, with their white sails and their beaks of gold and eyes of gold and jet. Many songs have been sung of them, and now I get to see them and even sail in one of them.

“Perhaps I shall,” I returned, and we turned our attention to our supper.

It was a pleasant thing to sit and talk and laugh and break bread with the others. We listened to tales of those old enough to remember the Great Crossing, the many perils they faced leaving Cuiviénen. They regaled us with songs from that time, and then we all stopped, astonished, when singing sweeter than anything we had ever heard carried over the waves.

These were the voices of the Oarni and the Falmaríni, sea spirits that served Ossë and Uinen. Lirulinwë said these spirits are rarely seen in Alqualondë. The city and harbour are too loud, more often than not. They preferred the tranquility of Tol Eressëa instead.

The singing stopped, and the air felt strangely empty for it. “They will start up again, my lord,” Lirulinwë assured me. “Perhaps we should sing again. That might encourage them.”

I decided against my yearning to hear more. We could not tarry for much longer. The king awaited us.

Letter from Ingoldo Arafinwë to Queen Indis

52nd day of Y.T. 1278.—

“Beloved mother,—

“You will rejoice to learn that all is well with us. Our journey was a peaceful one, and we arrived just as Laurelin reached her greatest bloom. Even from outside the gates, Alqualondë is a vision to behold, and I will write to you and father on all that I see and find after I have met with the king. Pray give my love to the others.”

“Your loving son,

“Ingoldo.”

Ingoldo Arafinwë’s journal

52nd day of Y.T. 1278, during the waning of Laurelin — King Olwë greeted me with a hearty bellow upon my arrival.

“Son of Finwë!” He cried and embraced me. The gifts I brought with me were to be given later, when I was alone with the family. “Be welcome in my home!”

His home was a graceful and enchanting palace made out of white marble. Of pearls and jewels, there were aplenty. They adorned doorways and windows, columns and vaulted halls, lamps, and candlesticks. I have come to a city of great wealth, and it showed in the rich splendor I found in the palace.

King Olwë smiled warmly when I pressed a letter from my father into his hand. “I will read this later,” he said, and he passed the letter onto his steward. “Now come and meet the rest of my family.”

The king graciously led me into a vast receiving hall where his family and members of the court had gathered. He presented me to his queen, the lady Eärerossë, first.

“Welcome to Alqualondë, Ingoldo Arafinwë, son of Finwë.” Her words were like warm honey. My mother once said the women of the Teleri could rival the spirits of the sea with the sweetness of their voice. She also warned me to take care where the queen was concerned. Eärerossë was unforgiving, she had said, to those who wounded her or the ones she loved. “We have all heard so much of you. If there is anything you need to increase your comfort, please do not hesitate to ask.”

I thanked her profusely, and the king motioned for the others to come forward. His sons were many, almost as many as the sons of Ingwë. Then came the lords and ladies of his court, and finally, after I was introduced to them, King Olwë raised a hand toward a lady hiding in the shadows, urging her to come forth. 

“This, my lord and prince,” he said with pride, “is my only daughter, the princess Eärwen.”

“My lady.” I bowed as deeply and respectfully as I could.

“My lord,” she said, dipping in a curtsy in return. Her voice was unlike her mother’s; it reminded me of a clear stream. “My lord father has spoken to us a great deal about your sire and your kin. If you are not weary from your journey, I would like to show you something of our city.”

I lifted my gaze, and it was then that I truly saw her. Molten silver hair and eyes as blue as brilliant jewels greeted me first, followed by a smile that could have warmed even the coldest of hearts. For a single, breathtaking moment, I could not speak or even think. The gossips all said that the Swanmaiden of Alqualondë was a glorious vision made flesh, and for once, I was grateful that they were correct. Someone cleared their throat; it was the king, I think. Clarity came back to me in a rush, and then I recalled where I was, and who I was with. I remembered my courtesies and made haste to say, “My thanks, my lady.”

“Splendid, my lord. I will send word to the stables and ask them to ready our swiftest horses.”

Not long after, we rode out of the palace and into the city. Mountains lay to the north and west, and, much to my own surprise, there was more than one forest as well. Princess Eärwen told me they are all well stocked, and hunters never want for game. She invited me to join her and her brothers on their next hunt. I agreed, thinking it would be a most opportune time to learn of King Olwë’s children.

Another aspect of the city that caught my eye were the roofs and doors and shutters of all the manses. They were all deep blue. Even the many lamps of the city were inlaid with deep blue crystals. Pearls and jewels adorned the many walls and fountains and terraces we passed, and on closer inspection, I found that the path we were on comprised chiefly of blocks of white coral. Many of the city’s paths were made of white coral, as were parts of the walls that lined the canal that threaded its way through the city.  

The princess was kind enough to lead me down to the Haven of Swans so I could take a closer look at their ships. There were the beaks of gold and the eyes of jet. There were the pristine white sails bearing the heraldry of the noble Houses of this city. King Olwë’s ship was kept apart from the others.

“That is the sigil of our House,” Princess Eärwen gestured to what was emblazoned on the main sail. “Waves with a crowned star high above them. Father thought it fitting, given the love the Teleri hold for the sea. There are many tales of the great ocean crossing. You will hear some of them later, at the feast.”

“I hear it is to be aboard your father’s ship?” The ship made especially for the king was larger than all of the others, but could it hold a great many people?

“Yes.” The princess dug her heels into her horse, urging it forward, and I did the same. We rode closer to the many piers that dotted the Haven, and I kept silent while she called out to the mariners she knew. “But only for our family and members of my father’s council. We will take the ship out into the water while we dine. There will be minstrels and mummers and even a fire dancer. If we are truly fortunate, the Oarni and Falmaríni might join us.”

“I hear you can speak their words, my lady.”

“I can, my lord. My brothers, too. My mother encouraged us to learn. Perhaps I could teach you, if you like. It is quite hard, almost as hard as Valarin, but the words are so beautiful to listen to.”

“I hope I will not disappoint you with my efforts, my lady.”

“I am certain you will not.”

We rode on, guiding our horses past the Haven and onto the beach. The sand was like gold. Even the palm trees were gilded. There were more jewels everywhere, even in the little rock pools elflings swam in. My heart felt lighter here and freer. Perhaps my mother was right. Alqualondë could indeed reward me in many ways, and I must be patient enough to see what they are.

[swanmaids]

And when again thirty years had passed, Turgon son of Fingolfin left Nevrast where he dwelt and sought out Finrod his friend upon the isle of Tol Sirion, and they journeyed southward along the river, being weary for a while of the northern mountains... Of the Return of the Noldor, The Silmarillion. for @thelordofgifs. ao3 link

They had been walking for twelve days when they came upon the mere.

The river Sirion was alive everywhere, but here in this maze of lakes and fens most of all. Shining fish danced through its clear waters, and its banks were thick with a blanket of reeds and grasses. The air around it was heavy with the thrumming of dragonflies. It sung too with the voices of so many water-spirits, those Maiar who did not walk in the world that they lived in but were one with it. Finrod who had come of age in the land of the gods was not unfamiliar with such places, but he had not yet come across a place so clearly suffused with life in all its forms in this Middle Earth. It was not so long ago that he had traversed the lifeless Ice, and the memory of its cold cruelty was fresh in his mind.

Speaking of alive...

Finrod watched Turgon wash up by the banks as he stoked the fire and cleared away the remains of their meal- two great silver fish from the river stuffed with wild onion and garlic, and some of the hard bread and cheese that Finrod kept in his pack - and considered his oldest friend.

Turgon looked, if not quite himself, then better than Finrod could remember him having looked for a long time. Though Finrod had missed him at the Feast of Reuniting, the withdrawal to Nevrast had evidently been good for him; and perhaps he could credit himself that their little journey along the river had helped his friend too. His body, starved for so long, had at last begun to fill out; and he smiled more, if usually briefly. He smiled the most when he spoke of his daughter.

The young princess too was beginning to blossom amid the white stone of Vinyamar, enough that she had taken on her father's duties in his absence. Finrod thought that he would like to see her again- she had still been a girl when he saw her last, despite her far-sight and however old she appeared in spirit. He had not intended for so much time to pass without a visit - but somehow decades had slipped by without his notice.

By the time Finrod had tidied away, Turgon was almost finished bathing. He clambered onto the grass, water running in rivulets down his arms, reached for his pack and began to towel himself off. As Finrod began undressing to bathe himself, Turgon was busy oiling his double-stranded twists. He still refused to grow them past chin length - a mark of mourning, he said. His hands moved deftly through his braids, even with two fingers lost to frostbite.

"Are you going to stop dreaming and get into the water anytime soon?" Turgon grinned, breaking Finrod from his thoughts. Finrod nodded in response and shucked off his tunic and trousers.

Standing in the mere, which shone strangely pink as the setting sun relected in the ripples, Finrod could feel the spirits of the River Sirion even closer. As he splashed his face and rubbed soapwort behind his ears, he had the feeling that he was being watched by an unseen presence - but it hardly seemed frightening. Rather, it felt as though whatever was sharing this small part of the world with the two of them was simply gently curious about these new visitors.

"It's strange, isn't it," Turgon said, giving voice to Finrod's thoughts, "we're definitely not alone here."

"I don't think anything here means us any harm, though," Finrod replied.

In fact, Finrod felt more at peace in this moment than he had since the Trees died. To be in a place where the land and the water itself echoed with the music of the Ainur, well-fed and soon to be rested, reunited with his dearest friend - it was as though he could finally breathe again after so long spent suffocating.

"No, me neither. But I wonder what it is about this place that makes it so full of life? We've been following the river for some time now, but this is the first time that I've felt so...surrounded."

"You might be right. But I'm just glad that whatever it is that dwells here is letting us bathe!"

Turgon laughed at that. "Absolutely."

On the Grinding Ice, they had never felt clean. Sweat and grime had built up between the many layers of fur and hide that they had clothed themselves with, and they had all been foul and bedraggled by the time they had descended upon the Lammoth. Now that they were journeying along the river, neither Finrod nor Turgon had gone a day without bathing. At least Turgon was able to laugh about it.

By the time Finrod climbed out of the mere, Turgon had laid out their bedrolls and banked the fire; and was sat on his bedroll in a tunic and with his hair wrapped. Although they had not actually discussed whether they would make camp where they were or move on, Finrod could not disagree with the choice - he was certain that they would find no danger here. He dried off quickly and went to lie down beside his cousin - the buzzing of the dragonflies and the gentle lapping of the waters were having a strangely soporific effect.

"Thank you for coming here with me," Turgon said, all of a sudden. "I had not quite realised how much I missed the open lands and the green smell of the forests."

"You did not miss your favourite cousin, then?" Finrod teased.

"Really, you have to ask? You know I did."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't mock you. I missed you too. It's strange... to have gone thirty years without my good friend, when we lived in one another's pockets for so long on the Ice. At Tol Sirion I kept turning to talk to you, forgetting that you were not there."

Turgon was silent for several moments, and Finrod wondered if he had fallen asleep. Then, finally:

"Come and visit me in Vinyamar. See my city. See my sister and my daughter. We'd all like that."

The evening was not cold, but Finrod felt his chest warm at Turgon's words. "Alright, then. I'd like that, too."

Turgon reached out between the bedrolls and squeezed his hand.

Finrod felt himself drifting into sleep, their fingers still entangled. Around them, the water-spirits whispered through the reeds and the stars glimmered against the surfaces of the pools, creating a vision of unmarred peace and beauty. Held by the safety of the grove and the love of his friend, Finrod's mind gently drifted open, and he began to dream.

[tabswrites]

(Art by @drawingrosesonneptune, banner by me)

Book One: Tomb of Light

Chapter Fourteen: The Promise

Now available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

A/N: Hot damn, it has been a wild ride. When I set out to write this book, only Hettie’s journey was set in stone. I have really enjoyed the twists and turns my characters have thrown at me and I am just really proud to have gotten here—the final chapter!

Summary: Mara learns that silence can be more devastating than words.

Excerpt: *spoilers below the cut*

With magic, you will find peace–the one thing that remains just out of humanity’s reach. Find magic, and peace will follow.

Killian’s words, scrawled hastily on torn parchment with violet ink, contained a promise. Mara had sacrificed what remained of her freedom for what had been revealed to be a tantalizing ruse–she had been denied peace and words had failed her. They always did, in the moments that mattered most.

ToL tag list: @outpost51 @writernopal @avrablake (please ask to be +/-)

[aladaylessecondblog]

Fallen Star pt. 8

Author's Note: The chapter was running a bit long and still wasn't done so I cut it in half because I had to be up early this morning.

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

The lips of the mask were cold, and when Voryn pulled back, the chill remained on her skin.

"Apologies," he said, "In dreams, I never take it off."

"It's fine," Sadara replied. She looked up and realized they were now no longer indoors, but outside and under the stars. A garden, perhaps, or a courtyard. "I suppose I must have been here, once, but the garden I do not remember."

In the back of her mind, that fear of forgetting reappeared. She took Voryn's arm when he gestured, and he lead her further out. The crowd of people began to thin as they walked, and the ordered courtyard of a garden began to look less arranged and more natural.

"There's no need to worry about that now," Voryn said, "Don't let the state of the sleepers fool you that way. Those who ascend in my service prefer not to remember what came before."

"I know, I spoke to Ulen. Is it true, the tale he told me? That his daughter was murdered, and...that's how he came to you?"

"Indeed it is, because I saw the memories as they were erased. His daughter fought her captors bravely, and they were all the more cruel in their killing of her as a result. He found her at a point far past death, far beyond any hope of healing and his grief...it consumed him. He turned to skooma and then to drink and it was only then that I reached him. He asked only the erasure of the cruelty he witnessed in return for his service. He was left only with the knowledge that she was murdered by those bandits, and the sight of her body burning on its funeral pyre. No children have come to the Sixth House yet, but he has asked, if he may, to be a part of guiding them if they do. Even though he has forgotten the source of the pain, its echo remains."

"But all your followers...do all of them forget their lives?" Closer now, to the question she actually wanted to ask.

"It is often easier for them that way."

"Even before they have...committed to the cause?" Sadara took a deep breath. "Because...I've noticed myself forgetting things. I'm not accusing you of doing it intentionally, but...I wonder if it is a side-effect of the corprus that I simply didn't notice until now."

"It often plays havoc with some minds," Voryn replied, laying his other hand over the one of hers clinging to his arm. Then he sighed. "Like a thief who steals from the ill-guarded, perhaps you only noticed that things were gone when you reached for them. I cannot predict how it behaves in most minds...but now that you've had your case stilled, I'm certain there will be no further worries."

"No, you wouldn't want your Nerevar to forget this time, would you?" Sadara asked, "I suppose my life is...less important."

There was a pause. Voryn stopped moving, and for a moment she was afraid.

"Your life is what brought you back to me," he said. His voice was gentler when he spoke again. "Am I so terrifying to you?"

"You aren't what you were before, Voryn," Sadara said, trying to choose her words carefully. "And I am still unlearning things that they attempted to put into my head about you. Being able to visit me like this I didn't expect, and your being able to hear my thoughts here, it's...it's not that I fear you exactly, but all this is overwhelming. Imagine it from my side - you come from nothing, you struggle and fight. You get kidnapped in the dead of night and sent to a country where no one wants you there, and start taking orders from some agent of the Emperor because what else are you going to do? The note you gave Dagoth Gares was the first real welcome I felt."

She gulped slightly.

"But at the same time everyone I met, except for the dreamers, told me how dangerous you were. The ashlanders especially. When I asked Nibani Maesa if there were not some way to save you, she told me not to bother. That a merciful end was the best course of action."

She knew she was running at the mouth, but she couldn't stop.

"How glad I am that you decided against that course of action."

Sadara squeezed briefly at his arm. "I know if our places were exchanged I'd want the same consideration. I know someone will eventually try to do what all of Morrowind seems to want, but I want you to understand: it won't be me."

"I already know that."

"I just wanted you to hear it," she looked up at the golden mask.

There was a pause, and then he started walking again.

"Did we do this before? Or is this simply you wanting no eyes on us?"

"Both," Voryn replied. "I was warning you about some worrying rumors to do with the Dwemer...and wondering why you seemed half out of it."

"Perhaps I was drunk?" she gave a slight laugh. "You did mention I liked to drink a little too much at these events."

A step onto a more overgrown path, the sight of a few daffodils and forget-me-nots. A memory stirred, and a thought along with it.

Could Kagrenac really be thinking of doing that? Dumac would never approve...

Walking beside Voryn, just as she was now.

By Azura...those cheekbones, that jaw. He's going to make such beautiful children, I only wish...

She shut her eyes.

"I was trying to tell you something serious," Voryn said, having heard both thoughts, "And you were admiring me."

"Well...perhaps there's a reason I incarnated as a bard," Sadara gave a short laugh. "We are infamous for such things, aren't we? I think...I think I must have thought I'd be able to handle it, that there was nothing to worry about."

She took a deep breath.

"That Azura would protect me, if anything went ill. Perhaps I should have paid less attention to your cheekbones and more attention to your words. Maybe then I'd have been smart enough to know you'd never betray me. I was too full of myself..."

Fog gathered at the edge of her vision. Voryn lead her off the path and under the hanging branches of a willow tree.

"It will be different this time, Nerevar. You know better now. Things will be as they were--no, better than they were, and you will be where you apparently always wanted to be: at my side."

"Just don't ask me to lead your armies," Sadara replied. "I'm tired, Voryn. I want to rest. I will keep your house ordered, your bed warm, your halls filled with music...but I don't want to lead in battle anymore. It would be best if there were no need for battle at all, but I...I know I can't convince you of that."

"I don't want to make my people suffer, but it will be necessary, to drive out the--"

"--mongrel dogs of the empire," she finished for him. "I know...I know. But you know the suffering will be worse this way. Surely Azura will send another champion, one far more likely to be bent to her will. Perhaps actual support in battle, rather than sending them off with more than just orders to do this or that. She told me I was chosen. Not to fear, that she was watchful. But the only one who has truly watched me is you...and I want to keep it that way. I don't want to lose you to a cocksure overpowered ordinator or something like that."

"You fear too much...which I can't say surprises me," Voryn said after a long silence. A flower (red salvia, she thought) appeared in his hand and he reached forward to tuck it behind her ear. "I can understand wanting to be less than what you were...and it is fortunate that I am the one leading now. I can give you all that you ask for."

She looked up at him, smiling weakly, not wanting to think the things she feared more. Knowing she must keep her mind clear, that he would hear anything she thought in this dream.

The fog grew denser, and she reached up to rub at her eyes. "I'm glad to hear it. I had...I had thought you might be angered by my...lack of enthusiasm to fight at your side."

"I could never be angry at you over so small a thing." Voryn's tone was softer than it had yet been, and he lifted her chin to look her in the eye. "We are too well entangled for that to happen."

There was a pause. She rubbed her eyes again.

"Someone is trying to wake you," he said, "Time can pass much differently here than in the waking world. I shall have to make my next visit longer."

He brought her hands to the lips of his mask and pressed a cold kiss to her knuckles.

"Awake or in dream I think of you, Nerevar. I will always think of you. Now that what you hoped has come true, no treachery will ever part us again."

Bliss filled and surrounded Sadara as the fog grew thicker still and finally blotted Voryn from view.

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

Her knuckles were cold when she woke to find Dagoth Ulen standing beside her bed. She jolted, before remembering where she was and why she was there.

"I, I'm sorry," she muttered a quick apology, "I...I've been attacked by ash zombies after falling asleep now and then and I...I..."

"A perfectly natural response," Ulen said, "And it is why I am waking you, and not Rather."

He turned his back while she dressed, and when he turned back she spoke up only a little awkwardly.

"The pre-dawn is Azura's time...do any of you ever hear her?"

"If others do, they have not said," Ulen replied, "I have not heard her since coming here."

"Did you, before?"

She ate some of her rations and then left the room with him; Rather followed along once she'd left it.

"I can't fully recall. I remember cursing Azura's name once, before I came to the Sixth House, but...that, along with the memories I do retain, is a bit foggy. And speaking of the Sixth House..."

He held something out to her. A Sixth House amulet.

"One of the ash poets wanted to give you this."

Sadara gave a brief smile, and took it. "I thought I would have to join the house to get one of these."

What harm could there be in wearing the thing now? Certainly there was a spell attached to it, but wearing it wouldn't trigger the thing. She'd handled a few of these before...and it would help her ongoing masquerade.

She slipped on the amulet and took a deep breath.

Ulen handed her off to Rather at the front door, and she stepped out into the lightening air. It was clearer weather than she'd seen in weeks, no blight storm, no rain, no fog, simply a clear dark sky that was getting slowly brighter.

Sadara walked to the edge of the outdoor courtyard and sat face eastward, staring at the shift of color, the darker reds, the golds, the brilliant orange, like the sky around the sun was aflame.

And as she sat, and thought, she realized three things.

One, that the delicious fluttering in her chest and the warm glow she felt when she looked at or thought of Voryn was no longer merely animalistic lust.

Two, that she was NOT going to given up saving Voryn just yet. He was softer than she had ever seen him before in the dream from before she'd woken, and he was clearly pained by the idea of hurting others. There was a chance. There was a chance.

Three, that there were in reality three possible courses she could take if, in the end, she could not persuade Voryn. To do what Azura said (which she already knew she couldn't), to join Voryn in full, or to spurn both of them and leave Morrowind entirely.

And then, a voice.

You have disappointed me, failed incarnate. For clearly, that is what you are.

[emyn-arnens]

How about 44, Legolas and Arwen?

“Aragorn’s days draw short,” Arwen said, looking out over the walls of Minas Tirith to the snaking line of the Anduin that disappeared glinting into the horizon, “and he soon shall wish to pass from the circles of the world—long have I foreseen his choice, but foresight does not make the coming less bitter, nor easier to bear,” and turning to Legolas who stood next to her, she said, “but neither do I ask that you and Gimli remain to comfort me when he is gone. Long have you been friends to Aragorn, and then to me, and it is time now, I deem, for you to make a choice, as I did long ago under the golden boughs of Cerin Amroth, but after it there will still be days of hope for you, I think, even if there be none for me.”

“I do not know now what to decide,” said Legolas, “for though the call of the Sea has burned in my heart for many years, following it will come at the cost of nearly all that I love—I should have to leave Gimli, and I would never walk again under the eaves of Eryn Lasgalen or Fangorn or wander in the gardens of Ithilien; the choice before me seems bitter, and I must lose something I love in the choosing.” 

“All the choices of our people are made in sorrow in these after days,” said Arwen, laying her hand over his, “but for you the greater sorrow—that of leaving a beloved friend—might be delayed for a time if you choose to sail: For although mortal beings may not set foot upon the furthest shores, it is said that they may go to Tol Eressëa and dwell there until their days run to their end.”

In the light of the westering sun, Arwen’s eyes glittered with warmth, and Legolas smiled and felt the weight of a fear long kept hidden lift from his heart.

Send me a number and two characters and get a five-sentence drabble.

[pursuitseternal]

Meet “The Lord of the Werewolves:”

When Galadriel is the one captured along with Beren’s company, the dark of Tol-in-Gaurhoth is the least that will make her body shiver.

1st Age Saurondriel | Explicit | 2.5K

Hints of A/B/O, Forced breeding Dead Dove to come, and also talking werewolves.

CW: none for this first chapter, unless you don’t like mild-comedic relief of talking animals or subtle nostalgic memories of Scar and his Hyenas…

He could smell her before he could see her. Again. That musk and richness that perched between her legs. But Sauron remained atop his throne, his nails tapping on the black obsidian loud enough to echo off the arches. He marked his impatience with each little click. The memory of her light voice, her adorable attempt to out-chant, out-magic him still fresh in his mind. As if anything else but the image of her stern and focused face as she tried her hardest had filled his imagination. Or the image of her body suddenly bared to his eyes, her lithe and powerful frame naked for all to see. That bright hair like the Trees of Light, her pale skin and wiry build the same as all the Noldor. It was clear to tell who she was, but that only made what was to come all the more enjoyable.

Then, she appeared, entering his presence for a second time. So obedient as she trod behind Draugluin, that shift of dirty white barely hiding her, her hands fisting firmly at her sides—the only sign her moment of submission came with great effort. Cheeks as red as apples, eyes shining bright and iridescent blue, filled with that defiance, she was ever the picture of a warrior Princess.

A smile swept across his sallow face, as if he welcomed a long-overdue visit from an old friend. “Welcome, I trust your accommodations were not terribly horrendous,” Sauron paused, arching his brow as his grin crept into a pointed-toothed smirk, “Lady Galadriel of the Noldor.”

More to come, dear readers…🐺👑

[underforeversgrace]

healing the wounds we hid - 6

title: healing the wounds we hid

Finally, the sequel to broken trust and the wounds hidden behind! (Refresh here on AO3 or here on Tumblr)

Story Summary: Now that his father knows, Danny's life is changing for the better. Jack encourages him to let his friends and the rest of the family into his small word. Unbeknownst to Danny, Jack is secretly worried about how Maddie will react to the news upon her return to Amity - and how to confront Vlad once Jack learns his true identity. Amidst it all, an enemy lurks and plots their revenge.

Chapter 6 of 11: Lying to You

AO3

Tumblr Chapter One

Tumblr Chapter Seven

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Jack heard Sam’s laughter as he hung up the phone, before the trio joined him in the kitchen. She seemed to be teasing Danny and Tucker about something, though Jack had no idea what. He smiled anyway. The two had become commonplace figures again in the Fenton home over the past week and Jack loved seeing the changes it brought to Danny. He smiled more, laughed more, even when he wasn’t around them. Even as Phantom he had more quips and grins.

As much as it pained him to know his son had been practically suicidal less than three months ago, it gave him immense joy to see Danny recovering from his depression and isolation so easily.

Jack resisted the urge to touch the bruises aching around his neck from Vlad’s hands as he wondered if Vlad would ever be able to recover the way Danny had.

“You two staying for dinner?” Jack asked, banishing the thoughts of Vlad from his mind.

“Is it okay if we do?” Sam asked.

“I’d like them here, at least while I talk to Jazz.” Danny added.

“You two know you’re always welcome here!” Jack said boisterously.

The three grinned and settled into their seats. They passed a look between them and the mood sobered.

“Actually, Dad, I need to talk to you before Jazz gets home?” Danny said, fidgeting in his seat. Tucker wrapped his arm around Danny’s shoulders, giving him a comforting squeeze before letting go.

“Sure, kiddo,” Jack said, settling into the remaining empty seat. He’d have to remember to get one of their spare chairs when Jazz arrived.

“So, uh, we discovered something at school today,” Danny said. The tone of it left no doubt within Jack that it was related to ghosts and not at all with their classes.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked. That was always the first thing he always asked these days.

“I am. I’m just, uh… a bit more ghostly than I realized?”

Jack shrugged and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, letting Danny continue at his own pace. 

“Dude, you know he isn’t going to care, in like, a bad way,” Tucker said.

“Trust me, as someone who recently found out you’re half ghost - this is so low on the totem pole for us in terms of new things we’ve learned, it barely registers.” Sam agreed.

“I know! I’m not scared or anything. It’s just… it’s still hard to be open with ghost stuff, y’know?”

“Danno,” Jack said, keeping his voice soft. “Talk to me.”

“We realized I’m able to eat emotions.” Danny admitted.

“Oh. Uh, okay. I’m sure we can watch a lot of sad shows or those scientifically inaccurate shows that make me mad, to make sure you’re getting enough… sustenance? Jazz has always been easily spooked by horror movies, anyway.” Jack said, trying to think of all the ways to safely bring up emotions of fear, anger, and sadness.

“Huh?” Danny said.

“Positive emotions, Mr. Fenton,” Sam piped up, rolling her eyes at Danny. “We realized Danny’s been eating less human food since the three of us found out the truth. He’s spending more time with all of us - who feel positive emotions about him - and he’s been unknowingly absorbing it.”

“Oh!” Danny said, finally understanding the miscommunication. “I’m not like Spectra, who eats negative feelings. I’m the opposite. I guess I just never realized it because I was pushing everyone away.”

“Or it’s a new ghost ability,” Tucker added. When Sam and Danny looked at him in confusion, he shrugged. “Danny, you’ve already told us you’ve occasionally gained new ghost abilities. It might be new.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Danny frowned. “I don’t know if -“

He was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming open. “Dad?!” Jazz called, a hint of panic to her voice. “I just saw your text, is everything okay?!” She asked, turning the corner out of breath, eyes wide as she took in the scene. She seemed to relax marginally when she saw Danny sitting there. “Sam! Tucker! It’s been so long!” She said, hugging the two of them and then Danny.

“Let me go grab one of the spare chairs,” Jack said, but Jazz stopped him before he got out of his chair.

“I’m fine standing, I’ve been sitting in class all day. So, family meeting?” She said, lingering behind Danny.

“Well, family plus Sam and Tuck.” Danny said, craning his neck slightly to look at her. “But I think you should sit down, Jazz. It’s kinda a big topic.” Danny was out of his seat before Jazz could protest, gently pushing her into the seat he’d abandoned.

“Okay?” Jazz asked hesitantly.

“Okay. Well. Uh…” Danny trailed off, sending a panicked glance to Jack.

Jack just shook his head slightly. “You’ve got this, son.”

"Is everything alright, Danny?" Jazz asked, turning in her seat to grab Danny's hand, concern painted across her face. She glanced over at Jack with an expression he couldn't read.

"So. Uh. Y’know, like, ghosts? How they're a thing?" Danny stumbled.

It took everything Jack had to not laugh at the 'are you serious right now?' look Jazz gave her brother.

Sam and Tucker, however, also saw the look and broke out in laughter.

"Hey, you try telling your sister you're half ghost! It's not easy!" Danny whined before going ramrod straight as Jazz's eyes widened. "I mean, uh, shit, uh, like… that isn't how I meant to tell you."

Jazz just smiled and stood, wrapping her arms around Danny, though she stepped off a little further to the side than necessary, completely blocking Danny from Jack’s view. A frown pulled to Jack’s face. Something about that felt… intentional?

He could only see Jazz’s back as she leaned down closer to her brother and whispered something too low for Jacks to hear, followed by Danny shouting, “You what?”

Jazz looked over her shoulder at her father, seeming to be gauging a reaction from him. He smiled at her, though he was sure she could see the confusion on his face.

“How long have you known?” Danny asked, pulling away from his sister, shocked.

Jazz shrugged, turning her attention back to Danny. “Since the Spectra incident.”

Danny groaned. “I swear to Clockwork, if Mom says she already knew when I tell her, I’m blowing something up!”

“You need an excuse to blow something up?” Tucker quipped.

“Wait,” Jack said. “Jazz, did you already know?”

Jazz sighed and turned around, wrapping her arms around herself. “Yeah. I found out by accident.”

“Dude, how in the hell do you still have a secret identity?” Tucker asked, laughing. Sam thwacked his arm, raising a finger to her lips in the universal sign of ‘shut up!’

“That’s a good question,” Danny grumbled. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you knew I was Phantom, Jazz?”

Again, Jazz watched Jack a moment before answering, and he finally realized why. Jazz had been - and still was - worried about how Jack would react. “At first, I wanted you to want to tell me. So I tried to give you space, help without it being obvious I was helping. After some time passed, though…” Jazz trailed off, biting at her lower lip. “I almost exposed your secret a few times. I’ve never been good at lying. Until this, I didn’t think anyone in this family was capable of keeping a secret. It’s why I haven’t been home a lot and signed up for all those extra classes and study groups.”

Sadness grew in Jack with Jazz’s every word. Had he and Maddie really made both of their children believe they’d hurt one of them for being a ghost? Made both of them afraid of their parents? So much so that Jazz, ever the level headed peacekeeper, who always worked to bring the family back together, decided that letting the family fracture further was the safest option?

Danny had pulled away to keep his secret safe. Jazz had pulled away because she wasn’t sure if she could keep her brother safe.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said hoarsely, staring at both of his kids - the two people he loved more than anything in this world, who he’d die for, who he’d protect until the ends of the Earth. They both looked at him in confusion, though Sam and Tucker looked at him with sympathy. They hadn’t been trusted with the truth either, so they probably understood some of what he felt.

But Jack hadn’t been trusted for much worse reasons. He hadn’t been trusted out of fear that he would torture and kill his son. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Dad…” Danny said, moving around the table until he was behind Jack, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Jazz pressed her lips together into a thin line and said nothing. She didn’t contradict Danny, at least. They all knew this wasn’t okay, no matter how much Danny was trying to pretend it was.

“Thanks, son,” Jack said halfheartedly. “Well, now that Jazz knows, time to discuss telling the final Fenton.”

“Mom?” Jazz asked. “Are… are we sure that’s safe?”

He paused, staring at the wood grain of the table as he thought.

That had been one of the reasons he’d gone to see Vlad earlier. Maddie had to be told… and Jack needed a back up plan for if she took it poorly. To his immense relief, Vlad had agreed to help, though he had insisted the only reason he was willing to help was because he knew how brilliant Maddie was and she’d connect the dots between Danny’s accident and Vlad’s own.

If the worse came to pass, threats of child protective services being called on the Fenton home should work, and Jack would publically decimate their research as flawed and made up to discredit her or any crazy theories she may spread - including the possibility of her own son being half ghost, if she tried to go to the media with it.

Danny couldn’t leave Amity and Jack would always stay with his son. If it got too bad… Vlad was rich enough to make Maddie disappear and make it look like she left, abandoned their family and their ‘freak’ of a son.

Jack and Vlad had set several contingencies in place, and none of them would he ever admit to either of his kids. As much as it hurt him, as much as it made his heart stutter in grief, if he had to make a choice between his wife and his son, he’d choose Danny, every time.

“Everything will be fine,” Jack lied. “I was afraid at first, too, but I know Maddie, she loves you two. I have no doubt that she’ll accept you, Danno.”

A look passed between Jack and Jazz. The look in her eyes told him that she knew he was lying. The look she sent Danny after told him she’d lie and protect him too, no matter the cost.

Danny seemed to buy it, relaxing slightly at his side. “Guess we should plan how to tell her?”

“Do you want us there, Danny?” Sam asked.

“If nothing else, you can eat our good vibes!” Tucker grinned.

“I’m sorry, eat what?” Jazz asked.

“Oh, your brother recently learned he eats feelings.” Tucker said with a shrug, like it was the most uninteresting thing he'd ever heard. Despite the situation, despite learning that his daughter also feared he'd carve up Danny, Jack grinned, because his son's friends accepted him - and his secret - with open arms.

Jazz sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she took a few deep breaths. “Okay. Okay, that’s fine,” she said before grinning at Danny and ruffling his hair. Danny sent his sister a relieved grin before swatting her hand away, whining about ‘ew, sister cooties!’ and then returning his attention to his friends.

“I think I’d like you guys there for that one, too,” Danny said, his eyes lingering on Tucker and the two sharing a shy smile.

Well, Jack had always wondered which one of his friends Danny would end up dating (if not both of them), and he supposed he’d just gotten his answer.

“I’m thinking we tell her here,” Jack said, deciding he needed to give his son the talk later. Dating is dating and needs to have the talk! “Over dinner. I can disable all the ghost defenses like we did for the time we tested your powers, if you’re worried.”

Danny nodded. “That sounds like a good idea to me.”

Jack could see the fear in his son’s face and he tried to smile, tried to hide his own fear, reassuring himself that he and Vlad had a plan, had it worked out if the worst came to pass.

Danny eventually realized they needed the spare fifth seat and when Jack went to get it, said he would handle it. He was all smiles as he transformed into Phantom, flying intangibly to the other room and back, grabbing the chair. Jack was calmed by the display - his son, in front of people who accepted him, showing off his powers, showing off the thing that had made him so afraid for so long.

If anyone else besides him noticed that Danny’s ears remained slightly pointed when he reverted back to his human half, they kept it as quiet as Jack did.

The pizza finally arrived shortly thereafter and they all settled in to eat. Jack couldn’t help but smile, content as he watched the teens eat and chat. They joked around and goofed off, they talked about school. Danny’s chair was closer to Tucker’s and Jack didn’t miss the smiles the two shared as they discussed video games while Jazz and Sam discussed various activist organizations.

There was an ache deep in his bones as Jack prayed, beyond all hope, for this to become their new normal - his family restored, his son’s friends at his side. So, silently, quietly - Jack prayed.

~~~~~~

Agents Byte and Bit were ready when Operative O showed up, a week later as he’d said. Byte was O’s equivalent in the chain of command on the technological side.

“Byte. Bit.” Operative O greeted.

“O,” the two tech nerds greeted in unison.

“Judging by your presence, I am assuming Bit failed to restore any of the lost data?” O asked, cutting straight to the point as he scowled at Byte.

Bit shuffled slightly, moving slightly behind his boss.

“Unfortunately, when Phantom triggered an electrical surge, all electronics were fried and, as Bit has no doubt explained, we do not keep any offsite backups for security reasons. In layman’s terms - the information has essentially been burned to ash. There is nothing to be done for it,” Byte said, holding himself up straight, trying to look stern and intimidating despite being half a foot shorter than O was.

O growled. “This conversation could have been an email, then. Why did you request a meeting?”

The prosthetic hand clenched into a fist at his side as it sensed his rising anger and O tried to relax it subtly. The prosthesis was extremely experimental, fueled partially by mortal electricity and partially by ectoplasm. It was a genius construction of the two, but ectoplasm was well known for reacting to emotions - and it showed every time O had strong feelings.

Which was quite annoying in times, such as now, when O couldn’t get the fist to relax, which made him frustrated, which just caused the fist to clench tighter. This is all Phantom’s fault! O growled internally, his hatred rising as he gave up on trying to make his hand do what he wanted. He felt like he had no control over his own body, all because that stupid ghost kid had fought back.

“Because we found something else we think you might like,” Byte said, unaware of O’s internal struggle.

“Did you capture Phantom yourselves?” O asked sarcastically.

“No. But we may have an idea to help you catch it. Bit, show him,” Byte said, stepping out of the way.

“Uh, here, look, Operative O,” Bit said, sliding into his seat and pulling up… something with a lot of numbers and shorthand on it that O couldn’t interpret. “We’ve been studying Phantom since its escape. We’ve noticed some changes in the routine it follows in the weeks since the incident, and there have been a few notable ones that may benefit us.”

“Fascinating,” O drawled. “Point?”

“Well, to put it simply…” Bit said, pulling up another file, this one so simple even O could understand it, even if he couldn’t believe it. He didn’t even notice the self satisfied smirk on Bit’s face as he took in O’s shock.

“You’re sure?” O asked in disbelief, rereading the text. “How?”

“We’re not sure, but we’re guessing Phantom has enough intelligence to realize it needed help after escaping our facility and figured out how to get some.”

“And how is this supposed to help me recatch him - I mean, recatch it? This would just complicate things further.”

A devious grin crept onto Bit’s face. “Because we’re noticing Phantom’s been falling back onto this ‘support’ more frequently recently. But this help won’t be available in a few nights,” Bit explained, handing a piece of paper to O, smirking as though he’d just handed over the keys to the Ghost Zone.

And, while that wasn’t what he’d handed O, there was no denying it was a strong second prize. A rare smile crept onto Operative O’s face. “You’re sure?” He asked, glee in his voice. 

“Positive,” Byte confirmed for his agent, lips curved into a cocky smile.

“Perfect. I’ll go brief K and -“ O began, cutting himself off and grimacing at his error. “I mean. I’ll go brief M and get us ready to roll, when the time comes.”

Bit and Byte looked at him sympathetically, but he ignored it - he didn’t do pity, especially pity aimed at him. He was fine.

He wasn’t the one who bled to death under tons of concrete.

O took one final look at the paper before crumpling it in his good hand.

Phantom was about to learn - the hard way - that he should’ve killed O in that blast too. And this paper was going to help O teach the freak that lesson.