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hierba-picante · 1 year ago

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I'll Be There Ch.1

Summary: You are Gregory's older sibling! :D He tags along with you to your interview for your new job at the pizza plex!

Edit: Fic is now on AO3!

A/N: GUYS!!! THE LONG AWAITED FIIIC YIPEEE!!

I'm sorry this took a while to come out- I thought today was Friday--my bad guys :'D- I did also say I was going to post this to AO3 but uhm erm,... I was unaware of the invitation and having to wait a few days to get approved..SO I POST THE TWO CHAPTERS HERE!! They will later get uploaded to AO3 once I have the account settled!!

Word Count: 6k!!

Tags!: gn!reader, many hijinks, no use of y/n, Gregory is a little shit, the daycare attendants are goofy, Moon, Sun, and Eclipse are all separate animatronics!, Daycare attendants have transatlantic accents, Alternate universe- Canon Divergence, self insert, 2nd person POV, mentions of minor injury!!

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Serene. Quiet. In the warm grasp of your peaceful slumber. Your toasty blanket completely engulfed you whole. Your face poking out just enough to let air flow into your nose for proper breathing. Your room was cozy, well, your side of the room. A desk cluttered with trinkets and paperwork. Scribbled notes on top of books. Your soft bed adjacent to said desk. Some fairy lights strung about as to not let it ever be a full dark night. Plush animals strewn about to occupy the remaining space of your bed and floor beneath it. Ah yes, one could get used to such luxury.

The other side belonged to your little brother. A handful he was, one you kept close to your heart. His own plush animals are thrown around to mingle with his light boards and remote control cars. A small desk with crayons and construction paper. Some snippets of color here and there. A small pile of markers missing their caps. No matter, you’d find them another time. His bed laid empty, his liveliness unbeknownst to you. For now.

You awoke to a plush object falling onto your face. Your little brother’s laugh rang through the room. Feeling his weight shift onto the bed as he giggled and nudged you awake. Smiling to yourself, you sat up and let the object fall onto your lap. A yellow teddy bear with a blue gingham ribbon. How cute.

With a yawn and a stretch you greeted your sibling by ruffling his hair. “Morning, pudge.” He shook his head away and lightly smacked your hand. “Hey!”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your throat. “Heyyy!” Mocking him with a smirk, you ruffle his hair once more. A harsh nudge of his head sent your hand flying off. Before you could react, he sent himself shooting right into your abdomen. “Oof-!” You breathed out. Minor pain aside, he curled himself up into your lap and started babbling about a dream he had.

You glanced out your window as your hand tucked his hair behind his ear. The sun hasn’t come out yet. Blue hour. Smiling, you closed your eyes with a hum. Right on time.

This was routine for you and your little brother, Gregory. He’d wake up at around four in the morning and immediately run up to your bed. Toss his plush as high up into the air as possible and let it fall onto your unsuspecting self. Of course, Gregory only wakes you up for the important things, consisting of: a glass of water, a sweet bread, some cereal, or just to talk your ear off about the wildest dream he had. This time, he chose the latter.

Normally, you’d wait for him to talk to himself to sleep, but you were particularly tired this morning. So you scooped up your little brother, interrupting his dream talk session.

He expressed his dismay by tugging on your shirt and raising his voice. You got off the bed briefly to remove some of your plush animals. Once satisfied with the space you made, you cradled him back to bed with you. Giving him most of your pillow as he made himself comfortable. Humming a short tune as you bundled up the blankets around the two of you.

“Alright, tell me what else happened in your dream,” you said, smiling and pinching his nose. He laughed and scrunched his eyes closed.

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The bright sun is what woke you up first. You sat up with a groan. Not quite the morning person you used to be, you sat up with eyebrows already knitted together, squinting at your window with repugnance. Begrudgingly, you made your way to shut the pesky light out with curtains. Only to get cut off by a sudden crash downstairs.

Oh come now, what time is it even? You thought to yourself. The clock read 6:32 a.m. That checks out. Gregory, still being the morning person, was usually making himself some sort of breakfast by this time. Grabbing a sweater, you made your way down the stairs. Dreading what sort of mess you’d find on your arrival.

“Don’t come down!! I dropped a glass bowl!!” he warned you. You paused and looked down at your fuzzy socks. You left your slippers upstairs. Admittedly a bad habit, but one that Gregory took into account.

“Did you get cut? Do I need to get the bandages?” you hollered back to him as you made your way back to get your slippers.

A few seconds of silence passed by. Taking that as a yes, you made swift work of retrieving the bandages from the mirror cabinet in the upstairs bathroom, along with some antiseptic if needed. You smiled to yourself. Remembering how clumsy Gregory had been in his younger years. Often running to you in tears after scraping his knees, or getting stung by a bee he'd been chasing. It was rare to see him without a bandage somewhere. Your thumb traced over the bandaid box gently. You yourself were rather clumsy. Often bumping your nose into something or getting cut by the most random things. Just like Gregory, you'd be seen with some sort of bandage. Or even a bruise here and there.

Laughing to yourself, you made your way to the kitchen. Gregory had already swept up the glass debris. He dumped it into an old kitchen rag before tying it with a rubber band. All while wearing oven mitts. Something you'd taught him to avoid any further injury. Whether it be you or anyone else who comes across it.

"C'mere, lemme see," you offered with a hand. Embarrassed, he made taking off the oven mitts as slow as humanly possible. Mumbling something about it not being that bad. "Gregory." Warning him as if you'd already begun to count to three. He groaned out a "hmph" and let his wrist fall onto your hand.

The cut itself was wide. About a quarter size to be exact. It looked like he peeled a sliver of skin off, enough so to have little specks of blood forming. Not a deep cut, thank goodness, but a cut nonetheless. You hummed and dabbed some of the antiseptic on. Your little brother grimacing a bit at the sting.

"How did you get this from dropping a bowl?" you questioned as you slipped on a bandaid. Keeping your hold so he wouldn't find a way to weasel out.

Gregory huffed, "I didn't. I got it from cutting strawberries. I didn't wanna use the cutting board, so I cut them in my hand. But the knife slipped and...yeah…” he trailed off.

You hummed, seeming satisfied with his answer. Hand hovering just an inch above his bandaged wound. You smacked it. "Ow!! What??" he fumed.

"You couldn't be bothered to wash a cutting board? Now look. You have a quarter sized piece of skin missing," you gestured towards his wrist.

"So?" he cradled his wrist towards his chest.

"So?" you parroted back, "You know how easy these can get infected if you don't take care of it properly? Knowing your ass, I'm gonna have to remind you to regularly keep it clean."

Gregory's voice grew quiet. "Nooo."

You chuckled. "Yeaaah," you said, mocking his tone. Your brother laughed as he shoved your shoulder.

"Go back to bed, don't you have that interview at two?" he commented as he made his way back to his fruit.

"I do. Did you wanna come with?"

He thought for a moment, "Hmm..I guess so. Knowing your ass, you'd probably forget where you park." A knowing smile danced across his face.

It was your turn to laugh, "I mean I do—but it's also just a fun place, I think. I figured you can look around and play games while you wait for me."

Gregory feigned his deep thought, "Hmm…wellllll.”

You chuckled and pinched his nose, "It's either yes or I leave you here alone for three hours. I don't want an 'I guess.'" Your brother shook his face away in laughter.

"Okay, okay! I'll tag along!"

You smiled at his answer, "Alright, be ready by 1:30." You ruffled his hair before heading to the stairs. The faint sound of chopping on a cutting board could be heard once you reached your bedroom door. Your shoulders relaxed. "Good egg,” you whispered to yourself.

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The drive there wasn't too bad. Early afternoon on a weekday. People were either working or in class. Either way, it allowed you to arrive ten minutes early. You turned your car off and rummaged around in your bag before exiting your car. You looked at the massive building before you. A silent gasp fell from your mouth as you opened Gregory's door.

"I didn't expect the pizzaplex to be that big…" you mumbled as your little brother laughed.

"Didn't you read up on the job offer before applying?" he poked at your side.

You jumped and swatted his hand away. "I did!” You exclaimed as you shut the car door. “…The important parts at least..." Your answer only gives more fuel to Gregory's laughter.

True, you had read up on the offer itself, the expectations and what not. Just not the rest of what the place had to offer as entertainment. You were there for a retail position. Specifically, a spot in the Lucky Star's Gift Shop. Expectations were: know how to manage a register, minor custodial experience, customer service, and general knowledge of the products you'd be selling. Those products being: plush toys, candies, apparel, trinkets, etc. An easy job surely.

You didn't expect the pizzaplex to be the size of a super mall and then some. Your wide eyes glued to the building as Gregory dragged you to the front doors. The parking lot was thankfully not as full. You felt comfortable in trusting your sibling to guide you to your destination.

A small chime rang once the two of you arrived. The smell of pizza and freshly cleaned carpeting wafted in the air. The ceilings were higher than the sky. Tiled floors waxed clean and carpeted floors as vibrant as the day they'd been installed. Gregory let go of your hand as he took a step ahead. Eager eyes darting around all the possible things he could do: an exciting collection of bowling, racing, arcades, and a food court, to name a few. He felt his stomach growl. His window shopping, however, got interrupted by a robot. A cute little thing. Just an inch taller than Gregory. Colored cheeks and the animation of a stiff broomstick. A colorful sunny shirt with the words "Daycare!" littered across its chest. A quick scan from your head to toe gave it all the information needed.

"Interview number 24, scheduled in 8 minutes. Early. Punctual. With a—" it stopped and gave a slight nod, "—plus one. I am one of the daycare's staff robots, greetings. Would you like me to show you to the location of the interview? Do you need to enroll the young one into the daycare while he waits?" It offered its metallic hand towards you.

You smiled and shook your head. "Thank you! But he’s alright on his own, I appreciate the offer though!" You made quick work of fishing for your credit card in your wallet. "Alright Greg, I'm leaving you with this to use responsibly. Food and a few games. Keep your phone volume on high and with you at all times. I'll call you once I'm done, alright?"

His eager hands snatched the piece of plastic, "Alright!" And with that, he was gone. Laughter hummed through your chest as you took the staff bot's hand. Just an interview. In and out. Then you'd find Gregory and be on your way home.

The walk there helped you familiarize yourself with the layout of the first floor. You took note of a few bathrooms and emergency exits. The bright neon lights arranged in stripes along the wall caught your eye. How you didn't notice that upon first entering was beyond you. The larger than life statues in the dead center as well. The Glam Rocks, in golden splendor.

You kept making mental notes as you followed the staff bot up the escalators—a gift shop or two on the side, a few designated party rooms—just some things you'd expect to see in the pizzaplex. You almost bumped into the bot as it halted. Pristine walls were decorated with a fun blue sky and the words “Super Star Daycare!” Two painted over doors sat in the middle. The right door had a small screen on it. A small wave of the staff bot’s hand had the screen flashing a green color. The doors click open, granting you both access. You watched in awe at the interaction, smiling to yourself at the notion that kids under Fazbear care were taken very seriously. Enough so to only allow a select few during working hours.

What you didn't expect was to hear the reverb of a band. Wasn't this a daycare? You didn't recall reading about there being two bands within the facility. That or the Glam Rocks hosting shows for the smaller children. Sensing your confusion, the staff bot chimed, "While this is a daycare, the attendants do like to offer shows to both children and family members. A sort of break from taking care of all the little ones running around. It keeps them still long enough while me and the others get nap time essentials ready—or when organizing the place during a busy day." You nodded at it's explanation. The staff bot took your hand once more and guided you into the hallway.

The glittery ivory flooring wasn't new, but the light fixtures were. Instead of intense neon, this section of the pizzaplex favored a warm light hung by chandelier. There were faint wooden walls staring back at you. It felt elegant to say the least. Catching you off guard, as you wouldn't expect this sort of appeal from a daycare. But a place to hold shows? You could picture it.

The daycare itself was enormous. The front doors loomed over you, as did its walls. Your eyes trailed up to find a sort of railing at an even higher level. You could only assume it was to help clean and maintain the structure. While it was walled off, the daycare offered viewing windows for anyone who dropped off their kid. Or in this case, for you to peer into.

The bot led you a bit aways from the daycare. Noticing a small fault in your steps, it offered you a small stop to look through the side window. Paying attention to your growing curiosity for the daycare attendants. You smiled in thanks and turned your attention to watch.

A bright sunny animatronic held the position as lead guitarist. His rays dancing about with little head shakes along with his background vocals. His counterpart, a sleepy night capped moon animatronic, played what looked like a bass while also taking lead vocals. Easily keeping up with the sun's guitar. Behind them, another animatronic was on drums. He resembled the sun, but had a darker color palette and a dark silhouette in his rays. He had a calmer smile to him. While he didn't sing along, he did keep up with their energy. An eclipse themed animatronic, you deduced.

Next to the moon was another guitar player, a more human looking animatronic. His color palette matched the sun's while taking the personality of the moon. Rays shooting out from his curly hair. To the sun's left was a female animatronic, another human-esque one. A violin in one hand and a wide smile and energy to match the sun's. Though her color palette resembled the moon's more than anything. Even sporting a similar nightcap.

"A Thousand Eyes, I believe that's what they're playing. It's a popular choice here. Bobby Vee?" the bot nodded, "Yes Bobby Vee, a classic." You continued looking on, impressed by their performance.

Your eyes danced across their attire: the sun sporting an exciting patterned button up shirt, bright yellow suns decorating his arms and chest. His pants were high waisted and loosely flared at the legs. Having a clown like ruffle at both ends, with cute sun's at the knees. The moon wore a red vest atop his own button up shirt. A puffed short sleeve with moons leading into a tight long sleeve seamlessly. Sporting similar pants as his counterpart, the main difference being the moons on his knees and a faint change in fabric color at the hips. As well as the buttons, which formed in a triangular pattern at his waist. Their clothing is reminiscent of both a 50s working man's attire and a 50s clown costume.

The eclipse was vastly different in clothing. An eclipse patterned button up yes, but short sleeved. No elongated pants either. Instead, he was clad in high waisted, two toned shorts with two pairs of belts. A pair of knee socks hugged at his legs before leading into his jester shoes. You couldn't help the smile growing on your face. While his counterparts had casual working man's clothing, he wore a relaxed summer outfit.

The human leaning designed animatronics had contrasting aspects. While the male's color palette resembled the sun and eclipse, he had somber imagery: a yellow short sleeved button down riddled with rain clouds and drops. His pants flaring with ruffles. The latter being cleverly white with raindrops defying gravity and drifting up his legs. His female counterpart sporting sad blues to match the moon. Specks of happy suns littered her puffy sleeved button up. Her own vest was colored a happy yellow with four pointed stars. Her high waisted shorts were a two toned blue with similar stars dancing at the ends. A sun patterned nightcap atop her head.

"So remember when you tell your little white lies that the niiiight~ Has a thousand eyyyyes~!", The sun and moon sang while their human counterparts accompanied with a falsetto. The eclipse excitedly hit his symbols to signify the end of the song.

The daycare erupted in cheers and you couldn't help but clap softly. The animatronics bowed as flowers and toys were thrown to the main stage. The sun was the first to rise, his smile widening as he made eye contact with you. You smiled back and raised your hands up a bit. Wanting to make sure he saw you were clapping. Only for said clapping to stop once he winked at you. You couldn't help the silent gasp you let out. The girl animatronic jumped up from her bow, waving to children excitedly. Turning to yank her other half up. Her eyes briefly caught your's, her smile growing that much wider.

“Two minutes remaining until the interview. Shall we be on our way?” The staff bot unknowingly offered you an out to your awkward expression. "Y-Yea! Let's!" you agreed. This time you took its hand in yours as you walked away.

"Ah—I see you were familiar with the way to the Lucky Star's Gift Shop?" you stopped abruptly.

“Uhm...nooo..." sheepishly admitting you were, in fact, not.

The bot laughed, "Don't worry, it's a few steps in front of you."

You glanced up from your stance and saw the sign in front of you. "Oh—! Well look at that…" biting the inside of your cheek as you continued leading the staff bot there.

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"Guys! Did you see them? The new interviewee for the gift shop?" Sun exclaimed. His fellow bandmates looked around for said interviewee.

"I don't think we did," Moon admitted, "Brother?"

Eclipse shook his head, "Sorry, afraid not. PeyPey?” he turned to the human animatronic.

"Hmm...can't say I did, Caro?" his counterpart excitedly nodded.

"I did! I think they were absolutely darling, wouldn't you agree Sun?" she rested her head on PeyPey's shoulder.

Sun excitedly nodded his head, "I do! Darling and kind! They clapped for us after we played! Oh, I can't wait to meet them!!"

Moon chuckled, "That's if they get hired, brother dear. And knowing the luck with past interviews, I'm afraid their chances look slim."

Eclipse clicked his tongue, "Well, never say never, Moon. Don't sour Sun's optimism."

PeyPey nodded in agreement, "I think this is the first one to actually stop and watch a bit of our show.”

"Right you are! I'm sure we've more than grabbed their attention, enough so to have them really aiming to win this interview~!" Sun sang out as he began to put his guitar away. The rest of the band mates followed suit with their own instruments.

"Well, possibly…maaaybeee," his lunar brother teased as he put on his neck ruffle.

"I just hope it all turns out okay," Eclipse added while also fitting his own neck garment on.

"Oh come now, I'm sure they'll ace it! They've already made quite the impression on Sun, I'm sure he'd be more than happy to convince the company otherwise if it all came down to it," Caro commented.

Her other half chiming in, "It'd be nice to finally open up the gift shop. The staff bots help a lot but none have what the higher ups are looking for, even with all the programming they do."

Moon hummed in thought, "What do you suppose they're looking for?" He opened his palms as if waiting for something. All eyes turned to PeyPey.

"Well...someone kind and patient, who can connect with guests, and…someone who has experience with children? Especially the younger ones. Someone who has a real knack for it," he concluded.

Eclipse twirled his drumstick. "That sounds about right. Certainly the type of person I'd want working in a gift shop right next to a daycare," he smiled.

"Speaking of daycare: our other jobs await! Come on!" Sun spun his rays as he ran off to the growing number of children waiting to get checked in.

Eclipse laughed and followed his brother. "Hold on now! Let me just wrangle up PeyPey and Caro!" Moon called over to his brothers.

He held out his arms and nodded towards the two animatronics. Both of which did a quick jump into the air. After a small popping sound and puff of clouds, they were the size of pineapples. Landing softly into Moon's embrace.

"Why they made you two as both small and tall will always confuse me," he quipped as he jogged over to the check in.

"Aww, Moon, don't you find us helpful when the kids get into small spaces? Or when you need an extra pair of hands for paperwork?" Caro asked while tugging on his ruffle.

The animatronic rolled his eyes with a smile, "I suppose so."

"Or how about when you need us to walk around the daycare during nap time? The other two aren't aren't too great at sneaking like us three. Especially on a full day. Are we helpful then? Or how about—" PeyPey's words got cut short by Moon's hand gently patting his head.

"Alright alright! You're both helpful even when the size of fruits! Happy?" he exasperated. The pair nodded, satisfied with his answer.

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The gift shop was pretty homey, reminiscent of a mom and pop shop, and matching the personality of the daycare indeed. Faint primary colored wooden walls surrounded you, accompanied by cartoons of the attendants frolicking about. Ivory tiled flooring at your feet, white wooden shelves with card labels for what would be set out. ‘Sun plush toys here,’ read the one. ‘Eclipse plush toys here,’ read another. The shop was well kept. No dust in sight and your reflection smiled back at you from the floor.

Yep, well kept.

"Alright, I've got your papers all settled here. Now let's see…" What would be your manager beckoning you to the front register. You loudly gulped and nodded as you made your way to her.

She was a warm woman. Pansy was what she went by. She was average height and wore a black button up with some slacks. A pen held up her messy bun. Glasses hung at the bridge of her nose. During your initial interaction, you'd find out that not only was she this giftshop's manager, but the manager of pretty much every other shop here in the pizzaplex. How does she manage all the inventory and employees? You'd never know. Trying to think about it made your balance shift off its axis. Even with the technological advancements of staff bots roaming around, managing that many stores must be exhausting. What with customer service whilst also making sure everyone on the team was okay.

"Your resume is nice, your experience certainly fits our criteria. We would love to have you, but you must answer one question correctly," she watched you through the rims of her glasses.

With nervous eyes, you nodded at her once more. Urging her to continue.

"When you see a child begin to cry after a fall, what do you do?" The question itself wasn't one you were expecting.

Befuddled, you recounted the times that child was Gregory. "I...I don't make it into a big deal. If I do, they learn that every little problem is a bigger deal than it's supposed to be. Help them up, make sure they're okay and point out how there's no injury. Gravitate their attention to something else," you glanced back at her and tried to read her reaction.

This was how you raised Gregory. For whatever accident happened. You made sure not to baby him as much, and to show him ways to get back up. On the off chance you weren't around. It's how your parents had raised you, so you raised your little brother the same way.

She nodded and scribbled a few things onto her pad, "Well, consider yourself hired!" She immediately grabbed your hand and shook it.

Your air left your lungs in a gasp, “Really?” attempting to match the strength in her own handshake.

"Of course! Every interview I've had failed to give an honest answer. It's always, 'cradle them until they stop crying' or 'leave them there to cry until they stop', I was beginning to doubt I'd ever open this shop up!" her laughter raised into the ceiling.

"The position you're applying for is no daycare attendant, but to hire someone without at least that sort of experience? Right next to a daycare?" she waved her opposite hand, "Don't even get me started! I know I can confidently leave you here to handle any child. After your training period of course! If you can calm a kid down before the waterworks, you've made it!" her laughter died down as did her handshake.

Your mouth hung open in a smile, "Well-thanks! I owe it all to raising one!"

Her eyes widened a bit, and her hand stilled. "You're a parent…?" she asked as if it was the most otherworldly thing she'd ever heard.

"Oh—! No, no! I raised my younger brother!" you laughed.

She sighed a breath of relief. "Goodness—I was about to ask you for your skin routine!" You couldn't help the happiness constantly growing on your face.

Pansy wiped a tear from her eye, "Woo! What a hoot! Alright, what day are you able to start?" she asked, readjusting her glasses.

You stood there contemplating for a moment. In all honesty, you were ready to start then and there. You had been let go of your previous job due to seniority and having to make some cuts. Unfortunately, you were one of said cuts. A bit of worry seeped into your brain. What if they view you as too excited? Maybe a bit of a try-hard? You could wait until the shop was fully furnished. Or maybe the following day…tomorrow...yea!

“Tomorrow's good! But of course I can see the shop needs its products, so I don't mind waiting until it's all stocked up, whichever works best!"

Your manager's smile grew, "I'll notify you once the shops all settled in, we'll start easy. Just some managing the floor and customer service, how's that sound?"

You happily offered your hand, "Sounds like a plan, I look forward to it!" She matched your enthusiasm with a firm handshake. The second one of the meeting. "As do I. Welcome to the family!"

You felt something in your grasp once she let go. Your name tag. A pretty, holographic lenticular tag. Shifting it to the left would shine a sun, in the middle a calm eclipse, and to the left, a sleepy moon. You stared in awe at the exquisite piece of plastic. This was the most beautiful name tag you'd ever been given.

“We'll get this little guy properly labeled with your name in a second, love. Just need to remember where I left that pesky hand machine…” she mumbled the last sentence as she walked around the front desk to look for it.

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"Moonie I simply must know!" Sun grunted as he tried reaching the daycare's front doors. His brother held him back without much struggle.

"We'll know in due time Sun. No need to pry for information," he chuckled.

Eclipse had started a game with the kids. A classic game of cops and robbers. Such a game in the daycare proved to exercise a kid's brain. With many places to hide such as the ball pit, jungle gyms, slides, cubbies, and so on, one had to get creative in this space. This time the attendants were playing the cops and the kids were the robbers. Caro and PeyPey had more luck than the lunar and solar triplets. Their smaller size proved useful in getting the stealthiest of kids. They'd started a system of chasing the kids out of hiding and straight into Eclipse's waiting arms.

"Come on Sun, don't you want to play with the kids? It's cops and robbers, one of your favorites,” Moon tried convincing his twin.

"But Moon! What if we never find out? What if they didn't get hired?" Sun whined in his brother's hold.

Moon sighed and reluctantly carried a protesting Sun to the game. "You had confidence earlier. Where has it gone?" The animatronic passed by the window, not thinking much of it.

"Oh hey it's the interviewee!" Caro exclaimed as she popped her head out of a jungle gym.

"Where?” Sun jumped out of Moon's hold with his eyes darting across the room.

"Out there, they're shaking hands with Pansy...I think I see something sparkly on their clothing," Eclipse added while carrying four giggling children.

His solar twin excitedly gasped and ran over to watch. What he said was very much true. There you were, talking with Pansy as if the two of you were old friends. A fresh name tag glistening below your smile.

"I can't thank you enough Pansy, thank you!" you exclaimed.

Your manager shook her head. "No, no—I should be thanking you! Two years this shop has been here—two years without a proper employee. You're doing wonders by just being you, love!" She smiled warmly.

You felt bashful and rubbed the back of your neck. "Aww, I'm glad we could help each other then! I look forward to being able to help in any way I can!"

She patted your back with vigor. "There we are! That's what I like to hear!"

Sun failed to notice bandmates and children crowding behind him to get a look at the new hire.

"They did it! I see their name tag!" Caro hollered from Eclipse's shoulder.

Moon nodded, impressed. "Huh, Look at that."

All comments fell on deaf ears. You did it. Finally they found someone competent enough to run the gift shop! Someone who's genuine—kind even! Sun couldn't contain his excited rays dancing about as he watched, resembling a puppy happily wagging its tail. He could see it now: his siblings and friends all palling around, with you in the middle! Catching up and having a swell time as you take your lunch break. Sun sighed at the thought.

Pansy turned curiously at all the muffled yelling. Her laughter got caught in her throat, "Oh! Would you look at that!"

Curious, you peered towards the direction she was looking in and gasped. Not only the animatronics, but the children as well had been watching you. Not knowing what else to do, you offered a small smile and waved. The crowd waved back with a muffled "Hi!" except for Sun. He stood there with his shoulders relaxed and smile tilted.

As you were about to take a step, he joyously screamed and launched himself away from the window. The kids erupting in laughter as Eclipse and Moon can be seen calling out to him in chase. Caro and PeyPey, still at the window, poofed themselves to their tallest height, herding the kids away from the front door.

Sun rushed out with a trail of smoke behind him. He was a foot away from you in an instant. "Hello there! My name is Sun! I'm one of five daycare attendants and a member of the Starlights band! Who might you be, dear?" he cheerily asked.

His height was alarming. You barely reached his chest. While his tone of voice was welcoming, and you couldn't help the anxious flips your stomach did when you briefly raised your eyes up to his. This was the performer who winked at you—a type of interaction you weren't used to. His charming transatlantic accent didn't do you any favors either. You quickly glanced at Pansy for guidance. The only guidance being a nod to go ahead.

Your name trailed out of your mouth awkwardly as you reached a hand out for Sun to shake. "A lovely name! An absolutely darling name!” He matched the same enthusiasm of Pansy’s.

His siblings caught up to him. "Sun! You can't just run off like that, we've got children to look after!" Eclipse scolded as he placed a hand on Sun's shoulder.

“Yes, just look at them all wiggling about in your absence." Moon observed once he reached the small crowd amongst you.

You peered past Sun's waist. The children had been trying to weave themselves through the other two attendants. So much so that you've noticed the two sprouted a second pair of arms just to manage the lot.

"I'm sorry…" you trailed off. You didn't mean to cause this much excitement.

Eclipse shook his head, "Think nothing of it. It's our brother's fault, truly. We really must go before they get any more restless," he admitted with a short bow. Pulling his solar brother by the arm with him to the daycare.

"We'll be seeing you around!" Sun called from Eclipse's grasp.

"Yes, sorry for the short introduction—I'm Moon, that one's Eclipse. The girl is Caro and the boy is PeyPey, the two there at the window," the lunar animatronic gave a small bow in turn. "We look forward to working with you, dear," rushing off to help get Sun back in.

You faintly heard Moon and Eclipse scolding their brother. Who in turn could only muster up "I couldn't help myself!" Your brain wracked against your skull. All three were charming, you had to admit. What with their manners, transatlantic accents, and just the way they carried themselves with each other.

Both Moon and Eclipse smacked Sun upside the head in a playful manner before running in through the front doors. The latter took this as an opportunity for a chase. From the window you could see the children and two human animatronics briefly pause their actions. All heads following Moon and Eclipse as they excitedly ran across from them. The crowd turned their heads to Sun. All of them caught momentum once they noticed the attendant had begun to go after them as well. The children shrilled in joy as the other two attendants joined. Scooping up any stragglers on the way.

Pansy burst out laughing once more. "Those five know how to liven things up around here. Get ready to see more of them, especially with their merchandise in the giftshop."

You sheepishly smiled, "Can't wait!” Your eyes glued to the window a few feet from you. Admittedly, you missed when Gregory was that small. Laughing at almost everything, getting excited over the smallest things. It made your heart feel warm. This must've been how your own parents felt when you yourself grew up.

TAGLIST WEEE!!

@cosmog-mcgee

@antwithwaffles

End of chappie ooone :]!! I hope you guys liked it! I enjoyed writing it and my friend @by-the-chapel-gates did me a huge favor and was my beta reader!! I love her very much she are my booboobear :]💖💝!!!!💖💝THANK YOOOOUS💖💝Please leave your thoughts below!

Wanna keep reading it on tumblr? Chapter 2 is here! :]

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hotchfiles · 1 year ago

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — three. need in the devotee.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summ.: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. cw: canon divergent. emotional cheating. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. wc: 1k+.

previously

First cases were always an awkward matter, getting to know new people, having them wonder if you were nice or not and wondering the same thing about them. You thought maybe having Dave around would make it less clunky. Irrevocably wrong you were, as you had to explain the divorce from your cheating husband when he asked how the bastard was.

Everytime you thought about your divorce it made something in your brain twitch, it had been finalized four years prior but it still hurt, and you got mad at yourself for being hurt, not only because it was a hit to your gut, your non trusting nature decided to trust this one man and he broke it so easily. But it hurt more as deep down you felt like you deserved it. Like it was your karma.

“I watched you speak about the importance of profiling for crisis negotiation once. You seemed very passionate about it, almost like Hotch–” You held in a sigh as the genius boy possibly every unit had heard of spoke. You were an expert. A leader in your field. It just happened that your field was the one Hotchner literally wrote the book about. You would have to deal with the comparison constantly now. “Why did you transfer?”

“Not the pay, that I can assure you.” That earned you your first group laugh, some of them looking over at Rossi, possibly understanding now why he looked so enthusiastic about your transfer, or because he was the one who mostly talked about the fact the pay was shit.

“She was the only one available with experience, and she was forced to.” Aaron clarifies from his seat on the jet, having thoroughly read your paperwork by now. You nod in confirmation, not caring that it wasn’t the best look to have been forced into their unit. It was yours first anyway.

“Familiarity with the way Hotch works was a factor too, it seems.” Some things don’t come written on paper, only the influence of being one of the unit’s founders, like Dave, guaranteed that type of information, or at least you thought so, as that fact didn’t come to you as reasoning. Still, you wouldn’t lose the opportunity to tease Aaron, even if only a bit.

“Familiarity is a way to put it, huh? Most of his methodology was created with me.” Scoffing loudly was his response while he shook his head in disbelief, the rest of the team glancing from you to him in curiosity.

“Maybe write a book about it then.” Two hours into the first jet flight and you could possibly punch him in the face to get that little shit eating grin out of it. Or maybe kiss him.

“I thought working with you two together would make me feel young again. It doesn’t. I’m too old for this now.” Dave points to you both and looks back to the files, bringing the conversation back to the case in hand.

First two months he tries not to favor your presence, sending you off with Derek, Dave or Spencer to check crime scenes, talk to suspects, witnesses, but like magnets you two always ended up beside each other, too close, shoulders touching while reading files and completing each other’s thoughts for the profiles.

You do try to keep your distance as best as you can as well, favoring sitting alone on the jet, talking to Emily or losing to Reid at chess, bonding with the team was an important part of what made any work the best work possible. And it’s not as in better workplace, but better at the job.

Connecting with the team made profiling better, faster, that was why you and Hotch were quick to make connections, quick to see holes, patterns, when you were together.

Still you catch his annoying glances that he makes no effort to conceal when you lock eyes with him, instead he smiles with his teeth and waits for you to look away. And you usually do.

Las Vegas being the final destiny though, you had your mind set on not looking away when he did his well known dance of glancing and waiting for you to look back, instead getting up to your feet and walking over to him, savoring the soft, almost shy smile he gave you as he took in your every move, from your seat to the one by his side.

You take a spray bottle out of the pocket of your FBI jacket and hand him without a word, trying to ignore the way he makes it his job to linger the soft brush your fingers against his as he read the information.

“Sunscreen? You know I don’t–”

“Don’t like the feeling on your skin, yeah, that’s a spray one, not sticky, not liquidy and it dries out completely.” Aaron listens to you intently, but still has his suspicions, being shown clearly by the way he furrowed his brows even though his heart was skipping several beats by your actions.

“What about the smell?” He’s properly fiddling with the bottle as if he was a kid with a toy, taking the cap off and trying to smell it through the sprayer, you roll your eyes and extend your arm to him.

“It’s unscented, touch and smell my arm, I’m wearing it.” You’re not really thinking it through when you almost shove your forearm on his nose, he obliges it and takes a deep breath, you feel the air leaving his nose in your skin and get suddenly shy.

His cheeks flush in warm pink, the product might be unscented but your skin smells like… You. He could recognize it from a mile away. He thinks to himself for a second and realizes that maybe if sunscreens had your scent he wouldn’t mind using them. And when his fingers softly touch your wrist, getting hold of it to lower it down, he is reminded of how soft you feel so he has no choice but to drop it or else he would be holding onto it for as long as you’d let him.

#lari writes sometimes #those are two different days btw #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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layla4567 · 1 year ago

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Me gustas tú

Inspired by this song

Summary: The straw hats take a well-deserved day of rest. While they are on the ship, you and Luffy will go ashore and spend a day on the beach.

Word count: 1.476

Pairing: Luffy x GN!reader

Warnings: slightly canon divergence, sfw, Y/N use, Luffy confessing his feelings, beta read, If I forgot something, let me know.

The Going Merry disembarked and docked at a dock near a lonely beach on a desert island, ideal for a break from aimless sailing. The first to jump onto the sand was Luffy, running like a lynx and climbing like a monkey, he jumped from the deck and landed with a somersault, spreading the sand in the form of a cloud that made the others cough. The captain's shouts of joy were contagious and you suddenly found yourself laughing at his antics. Nami and you went down like civilized people admiring the saline and clear sea water of a turquoise color like quartz. Zoro and Ussop followed behind you while Sanji stayed in the kitchen for a while finishing washing the dishes.

Luffy ran and jumped waving his arms along the seashore smiling widely, he looked like a child who had just seen the beach for the first time. Nami next to you elbowed you laughing

"I can't imagine what he'll be like when he sees the tundra."

"Or the jungle"-You followed the joke

Then each one went to their own side to do different activities. Nami sat on the ground resting on a towel in the sun, Ussop stayed practicing with his slingshot near some palm trees and Zoro stayed with one shoulder leaning on the wood of the boat, in the shade. You took advantage of the fact that you had your swimsuit under your clothes and you took off your shirt and pants, revealing your navy blue swimsuit and you ran to jump in the waves.

Luffy, seeing you, ran towards you and copied your movements, going deeper into the sea and jumping high every time he saw a small wave coming, causing the foam to splash and hit you in the face.

"Luffy stop! You're soaking me!"-You said laughing as you put your hands forward to avoid the water.

He turned around smiling, lowering his hat until it fell on his back still held by the cord around his neck "But isn't that what the sea and the beach are for? Of course you will get wet!"

"But not like that Luff- Oh!"

Luffy hugged you around the waist and lifted you into the air to put you against his shoulder and go deeper into the water. You screamed in surprise while the other straw hats laughed at your situation. The captain was happy as a clam and ignored your fists against his bare back demanding that he put you down.

"MONKEY D. LUFFY PUT ME DOWN NOW!"

"Uhhh (y/n) said his full name, the boy is in trouble."-Zoro mocked from afar.

"Okay, okay, but don't be angry!"-Luffy said

Luffy laughingly let you go and you fell on your butt into the water just as a large wave crashed into your back and pushed you forward, getting your head wet. When you was able to regain your balance you was spitting out salt water in disgust. You gave a murderous look at Luffy who quickly dropped his usual wide and confident smile.

"And now is when he will start running, in 3..2…-" -Nami said

"LUFFY YOU ARE DEAD MAN!!!"

The brown boy ran like hell, stumbling on the sand in fear while you ran after him waving your fist in the air.

"SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, DON'T HIT ME!"

Ussop and Zoro had approached Nami and sat on the sand ready to watch the show.

“I bet (y/n) gets to him first.”-she said

"And I bet that Luffy is wins, he is more agile and faster"

Nami looked at him with a slightly offended raised eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Ok, what do we bet?"

"Wait are you really going to bet on (y/n) and our captain?"-Ussop asked confused but amused.

"5,000 berries" -Zoro said ignoring the boy.

"Bet"

The two sealed the pact while Ussop shook his head laughing. After a while watching the two crew members run as if they were playing hide and seek, Nami, smiling proudly, saw how you knocked Luffy to the ground with a tackle.

"You owe me those berries…" -Nami smiled mischievously at an angry Zoro.

Later the only ones left on the beach were you and Luffy, the others decided that they had had enough of the sun and took refuge on the deck of the ship with their elbows resting on the railing looking at the two of you. You and your captain were sitting together, one on each side, on the white sand with your legs stretched out and your hands behind you, admiring how the burning sun fell on the horizon, turning the sky a bright red. You sighed, closing your eyes and reveling in the salty breeze and the song of the seagulls soaring through the clouds. Luffy next to you couldn't focus on anything but your beauty. He looked at your face instead of concentrating on the nature that surrounded him because being next to you, who cared about everything else? Even the most beautiful flower or the warmest sun did not compare to everything you were to him.

You threw your head back, smiling even with your eyes closed, and the captain came closer to your side, bumping his shoulder into yours. At that touch you opened your eyes in surprise and when you turned your head to see him you found his brown eyes staring into his and a sweet smile on his lips. Being close to him always meant that the environment would be charged with electricity and Luffy is a very hyperactive and energetic being like a puppy. It wasn't the same as sitting near Nami or Sanji whose energy was calmer, no. Luffy emanated sparks and joy throughout his body and even though he was sitting it was as if his anxious molecules could not be still, as if behind that mischievous smile and those mischievous eyes there were hidden intentions to keep moving and jump from here to there. Luffy was always on the move

"Is something the matter?"-You asked because of his insistent, somewhat goofy look.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I just got lost in your gaze."

You laughed shaking your shoulders and he laughed with you without stopping to look at you, and thinking that the flirt was Sanji. You slapped his arm with the back of your hand.

"Don't talk nonsense Luffy, the only one who can flirt here is the cook"

Suddenly, smiling, the boy in the straw hat stood in front of you, very close to your face, with his arms at your sides, caging your torso.

"Of! Luffy what are you-?"-you said startled

"Listen, I want to tell you something important."

Luffy swallowed and seemed more anxious than usual, besides he never spoke so seriously, you didn't know whether to worry or not.

"Ok yeah sure, I'm listening"

He sighed and his breath hit your face "I've been meaning to tell you this for a while… I like you."

"Aw Luffy I like you too"

He shook his head making his dark curls move. "No no, you misunderstood me. I really like you."

You went blank having understood what the pirate boy had meant. You moved your eyes from right to left, looking into his, feeling that your words were dying on your tongue, unable to pass through your lips.

"(y/n) I love you! Phew I finally said it.."

Luffy seemed happy and relieved to be able to let those three words come out of his mouth, regardless of your answer he already had a smile on his face. You let out a small airy laugh and swallowed hard.

"I think I like you too, I mean, I love you too."

The boy rested his cheek against your belly, tickling you and letting the air escape from your lungs. His grip was strong as if he wanted to squeeze a lemon. You fell back laughing as your hands rubbed his back. Now you understood why he always seemed so clingy to you, close to you like chewing gum. And all those jokes he played on you and the way he always seemed to tease you so you would get angry. Feeling playful, you wrapped your legs around his hips and forcefully turned him over so you could now be on top of him. Luffy fell heavily in the sand and you rested your chin near the junction of his collarbones.

Luffy stroked your damp hair "So you're not angry anymore for throwing you into the sea?"

You rolled your eyes with a lopsided smile. “Oh shut up and come here.”

With both of your hands you grabbed Luffy's chubby cheeks and planted a kiss on his lips. At first he opened his eyes in surprise but then he closed them smiling between your lips. From a distance on the ship you could hear the cheerful whistles and cheers of the crew.

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eremiie · 4 years ago

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one — love confessions

❥ your actions have consequences. eren wants more with you but his motivation is unclear. there one thing you’re sure of though, eren jaeger is relentless.

❥ wattpad link ; ao3 link ; masterlist

❥ prologue ; chapter two

❥ word count ; 7k words

❥ content ; mentions of alcohol, alcohol usage

huge thanks to @arlert-slut for beta reading my work, she was a big help, ily callie!!!!

❝ it’s delicate and sickeningly sweet, like the saccharine candy you’d find at a corner store— and what doesn’t help us the remaining taste of strawberry pineapple he leaves on your lips. you kick at the skin in efforts to get rid of it, and he only chuckles at your attempt before dropping his hands from your face. ❞

彡

kisses were peppered on your face, threatening to stir you out of your sleep, and you knew who the culprit was, their hand sliding over the slope of your body and murmuring into your ear— words that were incomprehensible in your sleepy haze.

"get up, it's time to wake up."

the past few mornings since your return from carla's had been a nuisance for you to get used to, but you were getting used to it. you were getting used to eren shaking you up early in the mornings to propose an activity for when you'd awake, and you were getting used to other things as well, like the more intimate touches he'd lay on you and the subtle nicknames.

you were getting used to your situation with him after the events of the weekend prior.

the weekend prior; you spent your nights with eren at carla's, and he insisted that you go with him to a party at a nearby bar. you didn't mind and so you let him take you along, only for the two of you leave early after a more than inconvenient mishap.

it was irritating at most, always having to be the one to drag eren away when he got more than comfortable, always having to talk to him about it only to see him make no effort to change. but for some reason something clicked in his brain that night and you ended up tangled in his sheets, a lazy love confession muttered in your ears when you were pressed against his front. a lazy love confession that you were partially swayed by.

you and eren didn't talk much about it, after leaving his mom's the two of you decided to leave it in the air. after all, there wasn't much to talk about that hadn’t already said. eren would try to do his part to win you over, and you'd just sit back and observe. the two of you went on just like you were before, as a matter of fact how you went on was almost too similar to how everything was before, yet at the same time somewhat foreign when you thought about the "other things".

the other things; the nicknames and the touches. you weren't too fond of them— maybe because you weren't his yet, but for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to shy away from them. they were comforting, they were something new to you, and you'd learn to appreciate them over time.

it was funny because it was only eren who you’d let do these more than friendly touches even before what happened last weekend, and it was you who enjoyed the whole aspect of it. you were more prone to friendships as opposed to relationships. you never liked them much because you found yourself on a pedestal compared to others. no one could catch your attention, no one was good enough or worth your time, yet eren seemed to build his own pedestal and sit right beside you, and for that he was special.

it was only eren who was able to do that, and only eren you were able to open up your heart to. you'd only hope he wouldn't screw it over for himself, and maybe for you too.

apart from getting used to your new situation with eren, you were getting used to letting go of things too, namely spending your mornings with someone else— spending your mornings with historia.

it didn't pain you much— you and historia had a friendship of pleasure, words by aristotle; she was good company for you in the mornings after class and when you needed socializing at events.

maybe you'd blame it on the break you were on, after all, you'd walk out of your first class together. since there weren't any classes 'till next week, that could very well be the reason why you weren’t seeing her. although you knew even when they would start up again it wouldn't be historia who'd be offering you a piece of her breakfast, spritzing her floral perfume over her body for the nth time, or keeping you awake with her tangents, it'd be eren.

plus, you were saving yourself from the awkward encounter, considering that night when she let her drink plague the front of eren's shirt, and considering the fact that that morning you had just told her to let eren be, that he was a player, that what may be fun for her was only a fling for him. yet you ended up in her exact position, letting eren sweep you off your feet and into his bed. that would linger on your mind when you saw her, and the more you thought about it the less fair it was to her,

but it wasn't your fault, right?

"c'mon get up, it's almost eleven." eren's hand slid back up to shake your shoulder before his fingers made their way up to your eyelid, pulling it up. you smacked his hand down, a groan leaving your lips as you turned in your covers.

"eren," you pulled the soft fabric of the blanket over your head and began to blink underneath them, eyes adjusting to the small gleam of light that was let through the thick fabric. "what is your problem?"

he huffs and you feel his weight dip the bed some as he falls backwards on it, his head resting against your legs. he reciprocates your groan, seemingly more irritated, as if you were the one to disturb his sleep. "my problem is that you won't get up."

"you said it's eleven eren, eleven." your voice is groggy and you can feel the swell of your face, rubbing at your features before you tugged the blanket from over your head. eren perks up at the sound of the fabric rustling, and he rises, happy to see your face, that same radiant smile you're used to seeing every morning greeting you.

"i always wake you up earlier than this," he shuffles back on the bed and lays his head down against your stomach and although he can feel you glaring at him from above, he still gets as comfortable as possible. it's then that you realize he's already ready for the day, clad in clothes different from what he went to sleep in, a shirt, and some sweats. "'wanted to get something to eat with you."

you feel the guilt curdle in your stomach, his attire tells you he's been up for a while now. he must've let you sleep in a bit longer than usual because he was right, he would wake you up earlier than this and the two of you would get ready together. your mouth downturns into a small frown and your hand comes down to caress his brown locks, almost like a form of an apology. he accepts it, green eyes fluttering shut at your touch. "i'm not that hungry."

"than something to drink? we can go to that smoothie bar nearby."

"we're not using zeke's car again." you knew eren wouldn't let up, and a part of you tells you that you owe him this as a return for the extra hours you were able to catch. you were just talking to talk, you'd end up going with him anyway, you ended up going with him every day.

you can feel eren smile against the fabric of your top, a low chuckle that was barely audible leaving his lips, and it made you smile too. "we'll walk."

it doesn't take you long to get ready, and it doesn't take long for the two of you to be on your way either. you were hand in hand with eren, a small silence looming over the two of you if you didn't count the aimless comments he'd throw here and there that you tried your best to engage with.

it was nothing but you, eren, and the small breeze that tried to sweep the loose pieces of hair around his face away, his hand occasionally coming up to move them out of his line of sight while the two of you walked before immediately connecting with yours again.

it felt nice, it was tranquilizing even and not much was with eren. it was times like this that didn't make you regret having him pull you into his bed on that hectic evening, having him pull you out of bed every morning, and you especially didn't regret it when you caught sight of the glass windows of the bar, chairs and tables still visible through the tinted glass.

his hand drops from yours. it feels empty again and cold when you grab the steel handle of the door. you can feel the wind of eren striding past you and the door shuts faster than you expected. the thud of it closing behind you, almost shutting you in, made you flinch. you turned to look back at it before turning to see eren more than a few steps ahead of you already.

you furrow your brows and let your feet pick up the pace to catch up to him and you don't even realize the way your hand stretches out for eren to grab it again. he doesn't, keeping his hands in his pocket as he walks, but you couldn't blame him— he wasn't even looking down at your outstretched limb, his eyes surveying the bar.

you roll your eyes at yourself. your subconscious attempt was feeble anyways. it was no big deal— and so you shove your hand back into the pocket of your jacket, fingers playing with each other inside the fabric.

the two of you round the corner of the divider placed in the middle of the store. you reckoned it was to give customers who were eating more privacy, and once you got around it your eyes immediately look up to take a glimpse at the menu while your feet come to a halt in line.

eren leans down a bit, "what are you gonna get?"

you shrug your shoulders. you didn't put much thought into it, too in the moment of the walk you were on earlier to consider that you'd actually need to order something when you arrived. eren on the other hand seemed to know what he wanted, staring ahead at the cashier instead of the menu. perhaps he'd been here before.

the line begins to move and you and eren diverge from it, stepping over to one of the open cash registers.

"hey, what can i get for you today?" the girl has a kind smile on her face that eren tosses back. she glances between eren, then you, then eren again while her finger hovers over the pad of the register.

he answers before you, letting you take your time to decide what you'll want, you continuing to skim the contents of the menu. "hey, uh," his tongue slides over his bottom lip as he leans forward on the counter, hands hugging the end of it to stable himself while he passes some of his weight forward. "can i get the strawberry pineapple smoothie? can you replace the coconut water with um, orange juice?"

it’s then that you notice the ash orange of her hair, the way it curled against the frame of her face and complimented the hazel of her eyes that were trained on the boy next to you, listening to him talk while she occasionally nodded her head, punching numbers into the register. "of course you can, pretty."

"that's all you— thanks, carly." you couldn't recall her saying her name, so your gaze travels down to her shirt, body relaxing when you see the name tag pinned to the cloth of her uniform. you shift your weight from one leg to the other, eye flicking back up to her face before eren taps your shoulder, making you look towards him instead.

"_____?" it's your name he says next and he must've had to say it more than once, the slight downturn of his lips tells you so. "what do you want to get?" his tone is different from earlier, and the smile you could hear in his voice when he was ordering wasn't there anymore— but most people put on a cheery persona when addressing an employee. it was more or less natural.

"i'll get what he's getting." you didn't really hear much of eren's order, clearly focused on all except, but you didn't have time to ponder on a stupid smoothie. she punches up your order as eren pulls out his wallet, you not daring to take out your own, hands still sitting idle in your pockets. he slips out a crumpled twenty dollar bill, attempting to smooth it out before handing it to the girl.

you and eren step off to the side, not having to wait very long for your drinks. when eren heads over to grab them from the same brassy orange-blonde, giving her a polite "thank you," and her responding with an "anytime, come back soon!", your phone vibrates in the back pocket of your jeans and you avert your attention from the two by slipping the device out.

it's pieck, her caller id sitting above the "home". you don't hesitate to swipe your finger across the screen to answer.

seeing her name made you remember the night at the bar once more, you and pieck enlightening each other with easy conversation, eren being the topic, and you’re reminded to update her about the fiasco that had you slip away from her for longer than you expected.

your mental note to call her clearly was washed away by other intruding thoughts, and the same feeling of guilt from earlier when you were laying with eren returned— she shouldn't have been the one to call you.

you lift your phone up, the glass of the screen was cold as you pressed it against your ear. "hey, i'm sorry for not call—"

"my curiosity got the best of me." you can hear the lightheartedness in her tone, voice soft as it flowed through the phone. it puts you at ease. "don't worry too much about it, i just needed to make sure you were alive after this weekend."

a smile plays on your face and you were almost oblivious to eren's sudden presence beside you, two identical pink drinks in his hand, one jutted out towards you for you to take. your hand wraps around the drink and you walk behind him, letting him open the door for you this time around, making your way out of the smoothie bar.

"i'm alive... what have you been up to?"

pieck chuckles from behind the screen. it's warm and pleasant. this time instead of you, eren and the breeze, it's you, pieck and the breeze. although, you were still aware of eren next to you and the side glances he was throwing your way— interest in every one of them. "that's the question i should be asking you, after all, you were the life of the party on friday."

"far from it, but if you'd like to know 'm fine. out with eren right now, he just took me to this little smoothie place not too far from campus."

she's silent for longer than a few seconds, as if she was processing something before she speaks up again. "eren? now you really have to tell me what you've been up to." her tone still has that hint of jest to it, keeping the conversation lighter than it would've been.

eren's ears perk up at the muffled sound of his name and he once again turns his head your way, an eyebrow quirked at you that you pretended to ignore. "who are you talking to?"

you bring the smoothie up to your lips, using it to take more time to answer before letting your eyes slide over to eren. "just pieck, nosey." you were only half-joking and neither you or eren laugh at the comment. "not much is up if i'm being honest with you, but i can tell you about," you pause for a moment, brain scrambling to find a word that would make the topic you were discussing more vague. "...we can talk about everything when i get back to my dorm?"

"why don't you come over? yelena is here but i don't think she'll mind."

you had nothing planned for the remainder of the day, it wouldn't hurt to spend a few hours updating pieck. it was well deserved on her part— she'd been patient and hadn't even sent you a text ever since you'd last seen her at the party. not to mention she was a good friend and a wise person to chat with, her feedback would be nice to hear. "yeah that's cool, i'll text you."

"i'll be happy to see your face, have fun."

the line cuts off before you could even give your goodbyes but you brush it off and slip your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans, sipping at the almost forgotten smoothie that was dripping against your fingers. eren pulls your now free hand into his own, and it's like he's trying to recreate the moment before the bar, swinging your hands back and forth while the same silence dawns on both of you.

it's a little more stiff, a little too quiet, but it didn't matter because before you knew it you were walking up the steps to your shared dorm and eren's scanning the keycard so you and him could slip inside the warmth of the room.

you don't waste any time placing your cup down and shimmying out of your jeans, replacing them with sweats instead while eren just watches from the seat he takes on his bed. his eyebrows are knit from observing you hastily move around the small dorm. "where are you going?" it was question after question, but it wasn't anything new— he was always eager to know what you were up to, to try and keep an eye out for you and to try and keep up to date with you. when it wasn't a little vexatious, it was actually quite endearing.

you finish the remnants of your drink, plopping the cup into the trash and picking up your phone on your way to the door. "to pieck's dorm, i'll be back later."

eren stands up, following your route of throwing his empty cup into the trash then heading over to you, stopping right in front of your figure and making you tilt your head upward to get a better view of him. "that's what the two of you were talking about?"

he's in close proximity— you could count all the wrinkles on his shirt if you wanted to, or every eyelash that curved downwards above his eyes. "...i guess."

"i wanted you to come with me to reiner's in a few hours, sasha and them were gonna be there."

you recalled seeing sasha on friday, how she beamed being in your presence and how excited she was to see you— telling you that the two of you needed to hang out more, and although now would've been a great opportunity, you had plans.

you sighed. albeit you never minded hanging out with your friends, maintaining them was a little harder than usual. "for one, i don't know who reiner is, and second of all, i have somewhere to be; i'll just text her when i get back." you'd hope you'd be able to stay true to your word, as you weren't able to do so with pieck.

in the midst of you turning to grab the handle of the door, eren's hands come up to cup your jaw, palms resting against the supple skin of your face, and you roll your eyes before looking down to the ground.

his affectious demeanor was present again as he pulled you closer and pouted at you while his thumb caressed your cheek. "m'gonna miss you, you'll probably be asleep when i come back."

your own hand comes up to grab at his wrist, but you can't bring yourself to try and pull his hand away. instead, you find yourself rubbing at the tan skin, still not maintaining eye contact. "and that's fine, tomorrow's another day, i need to go." your words are somewhat bitter, but eren doesn't catch on.

he presses a testing kiss to your forehead, looking down at you before tilting your head up more and pressing a gentle one to your lips.

it's delicate and sickeningly sweet, like the saccharine candy you'd find at a corner store— and what doesn't help is the remaining taste of strawberry pineapple he leaves on your lips. you lick at the skin in efforts to get rid of it, and he only chuckles at your attempt before dropping his hands from your face.

even though you could feel your cheeks burning, you still felt cold without his skin being in contact with yours. "text me when you get back." he says when you're stepping out the door, and you mutter a "we'll see," that you couldn't tell if he heard or not, not that it mattered much to you.

the walk to pieck's dorm feels shorter than usual, and you're not sure whether to blame it on the fact that you were getting used to the route, or on the fact that you were clouded in your own thoughts. either way, you're knocking a melody on her door in no time, and you're greeted by yelena looming over you, a neutral expression on her face.

"yelena," she nods her head at you but doesn't say anything back, only sidestepping to let you in, the person you wanted to see lying on her side against her bed, casting a lazy smile at the sight of you.

"______, long time no see?" pieck doesn't make an effort to sit up, only scooting backwards to create a space for you to sit at, and you let yelena pass you to get back to her desk before walking over to pieck.

"it's barely been a week," you saunter over to her bed, balancing your foot on one of the boxes that platforms her bed to climb up onto it. "you saw me just last friday."

"and i was supposed to see or hear from you earlier than today." she's still holding her smile as she speaks, tilting her head towards you and raising a brow. "nevertheless, i'm glad you're here now." she truly was— despite you being a year under her, appreciative of your company. to her it was like having a little sister to look after, she felt like she was constantly watching you from the distance— and you felt like she was always there when you needed a bit of advice.

"and i'm glad to see you, how're your friends doing?"

she shakes her head at you but she answers your question anyways, "zeke, is being zeke— off dilly dallying and being an english major, nothing new to him. if you couldn't tell yelena is over there doing some work, porco is doing well, colt’s good, we're all good." with the way she grins wider, you already know what the next topic of discussion would be, her eyes narrowing at you as she finally sits up, back falling into her surplus amount of pillows. "how're you and your friends?"

"well according to one of them they're all supposed to be gathered up in someone's dorm right now, a little get together i think."

pieck's mouth parts and her eyebrows upturn. "and you've decided to sit here with me?"

"i told eren i didn't want to go, i wanted to spend time with you."

her hand comes up to her chest dramatically and she stares at you in awe, "i always knew you liked me more than the rest of them, apart from eren i suppose." your nose scrunches up at her, you knew it was coming. you knew she'd find a way to bring him up, she always found a way to make things go according to her. it was admirable— and fun to watch when you weren't the victim. "speaking of eren..." her words slide off her tongue tauntingly and you groan. she doesn't take the sound to heart.

"here we go,"

"what? you said you'd update me. so what happened? my ears are open."

you pull your legs up onto the bed until you were sat criss-cross. "well, after we left he didn't tell me anything until we got back to his mom's," you can hear pieck adjusting herself, getting comfortable as if she was a giddy child and you were a veteran getting ready to tell an old war story. "what he told me was that he had said something to upset historia, and that's why she threw her drink on him— and i told him that he shouldn't have been fuckin' around in the first place."

pieck nods her head after every couple words and you use that as a cue to go on, "and he starts saying he's sorry and shit, i kind of started to feel bad and i reassured him that it wasn't that big of deal, just that he needs to be better, you know?"

"i know."

your voice gets quiet at your next words, and your back slouches. the pads of your fingers tap against each other when you start to speak again. "and after that... after that, i don't really know how it happened but we kissed, and then he took me to his room and... and we had sex," the nearer your sentence came to an end the less audible it was.

"excuse me?" pieck leans in, and you can see her blink once, twice, and then a third time as she raises her nimble fingers to move stray ebony locks behind her ear until the appendage was visible to you, and you almost snort at the gesture. "the last part, i'm not sure i heard it well."

"you did." your hand lightly shoves her head away and it's quiet for a minute, only the taps of yelena's fingers against the keyboard and the birds chirping just outside the window of her dorm. "we fucked." and even though you knew she heard you the first time around, you repeat it. more so to yourself, like you were confirming the events and making sure they were true to what actually happened.

pieck settles against her pillows again but she doesn't look surprised. it's amusement that dances across her features and it's... satisfaction? she lets out a small sigh of content, as she closes her eyes and lets her head rest against the pile behind her. "mhm, that's what i thought."

it's you who's taken aback, her demeanor so calm that it's almost unsettling. "what?"

"well something happened that night, right? c'mon the way zeke's brother acts around you alludes to something. how he watches you, he's very touchy with you, i'm surprised you didn't figure it out earlier." she doesn't mention how you'd reciprocate every touch regardless of the matter and would watch him in the same manner, maybe just from a farther distance. "he's the candidate i mentioned."

your words feel stuck in your throat and even if you could speak properly you weren't sure what you would say. you'd hope it was only pieck who was this observant, this alert when it came to those around her, otherwise the displays of affection would have to become a private thing; it was almost embarrassing knowing people could see you unknowingly gush over eren in plain sight.

when you don't respond immediately, pieck does instead, and her question flows out of her so easily that it’s as if she was patiently waiting to ask. "what about the blondie?" you were sure pieck remembered her name by now. maybe the nickname was more pleasant on her tongue.

"what about historia?"

"what about when she finds out about you and eren?"

pieck saw things full circle, she rummaged every corner and crack for possibilities, what ifs, and what abouts, and it made you think harder— even when you didn't think you needed to ponder too much on what she'd make you reflect on.

the quality was endearing when you'd skip a step or two during a math problem, or when you didn't consider the hangover of a party overlapping with a test you'd have to take the next day. however, it wasn't so endearing when you were trying to just get through an exam, or when she made a simple problem more elaborate than it had to be.

"well, i told her not to fuck with eren— i can't help it if he likes me or not." you rub the back of your neck while staring off into the corner of pieck's dorm. "eren will tell her anyways."

"and if he doesn't?" both you and pieck's head whiz towards yelena and you realize the sound of her fingers clacking against the keys of the laptop cease to exist. her slender arm is hung over the back of the chair and her legs are crossed at the ankle. you can't read her doe eyes, not sure if she was genuinely interested in the conversation or if her ears only decided to listen for the remainder of it out of boredom— but you knew she heard the last sentence either way. "it's your job to inform her, after all you seemed closer to her than eren."

"yeah but it's eren who needs to cut her off, so he should tell her then."

pieck pats the bed in front of her, stealing both you and yelena's attention with the smallest gesture. "what about talking to blondie? giving her a letdown and letting her know what's going on between you and eren? i mean, you and eren aren’t dating yet, right?"

your eyes meet pieck and you speak lowly, slow and careful. "no..." a brow is arched above your eye; you weren't sure what she was getting at. "but that's what he's trying to do. i wasn't just g'nna... throw myself at him that night," you cup your jaw with your hands, placement just like eren's earlier and your face twists into a lovesick expression, lip jutting out and eyebrows turned upwards. "oh, eren yes i'll be yours!"

pieck chuckles at your sarcastic tone and shakes her head. "i didn't say all that now, i'm glad you didn't..." her hand waves around your face in a circular motion, "do that."

"yeah, 'm not stupid,"

"i know, i know, my point was just that you need to be wary of your circumstances, _____." her words are darker and she gives you a motherly expression, almost as if she was scolding you. her finger pointing towards your figure didn't help to dull that feeling. "you need to be the one to talk to historia and you need to set your boundaries with eren. be mindful of the predicament you're in, it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks."

"and don't be upset if the old dog can't learn them." yelena doesn't fail to add on, before spinning her chair back towards the desk in front of her, seemingly uninterested in the conversation already, the jaded look that she gives you telling you enough.

you don't respond but pieck knows the gears are turning in your head by the way your eyes cloud over and the way you stare a little too long at the photo of her and porco pinned up against her side of the dorm.. if she asked you to tell her the color shirt she was wearing in it while closing your eyes, she was sure you'd be able to give her that and more.

but she lets you ponder and she knows it's a good chance you won't heed her advice.

you were independent for the most part and you seemed to have things under control when they needed to be— that included having eren under control. so why would you need someone like pieck to tell you to take your brain out of autopilot for a few seconds and be wary of eren?

as far as you knew, from the ache of his words that night in the laundry room, the way he held onto you as if you could slip out of his grip any second; he wanted you and he wanted you bad. it wouldn't be your feelings hurt if he tripped over his own feet— it'd be his loss and he should know you wouldn't be one to try and pick him back up again.

that wasn't the kind of person you were, it never was— it was eren who'd have to change, not you, no matter how small the transition.

but you knew you wouldn't have to worry about that anyways, it was your subconscious plaguing you.

“my mom would kill me if i played you anyways.”

those were his words that night and they'd linger in the back of your mind. they were a constant reminder to you that what was happening wasn't imaginative, and you'd reckon he'd stick by them.

彡彡彡

nothing feels better than toeing out of your shoes and slipping them under your bed for a later occasion. you had talked with pieck longer than expected, arriving back to your dorm a few hours before midnight, yet eren still wasn't back as you expected.

you slipped out of the attire you'd been walking around in all day and went to the bathrooms to take a shower. it was a quick one, the water temperature more on the warm side then you'd like, but it was nothing you could control.

you found yourself skimming the contents of eren's clothes when you headed over to the closet for pajamas to sleep in, plucking one of his shirts from the hangers.

don't think too far ahead, it was just the feeling of the fabric clinging to your skin while being a few sizes too big. how it fell around your body and covered you just enough so you wouldn't have to wear sleep shorts that you always ended up kicking off in the middle of the night.

it felt safe and you'd grown to like the feeling ever since eren slipped one of his shirts over your head when you were barely able to get up.

you crawl into your bed but you knew sleep wouldn't greet you for an hour or so. knowing eren wasn't in the bed across from you stirred your stomach, so you grabbed your phone that was still on its charger and opened youtube; it'd be a clever distraction for the time being.

you weren't sure how long you'd been scrolling through pointless videos, clicking one that’s thumbnail sparked your interest and watching it for as long as you could muster then swiping down to the recommended to repeat the process.

however long it was, it made your eyes grow weak, weight pulling down your lids and particularly loud segments from each video making your eyes snap back open, the cycle continuing.

it's one noise that makes you jump out of the grasp of sleep— and it's not the sound from the video playing in front of you, it's the noise of the handle of the door jiggling. your eyes move over to watch the brass handle shake up and down with vigor, as if the person on the other side was trying to break in.

it's the curse of breath that calms your nerves, the small "shit," coming from the other side sounding all too familiar even with your body struggling to stay awake.

a small smile tugs on your lips at eren's attempts to open the door, but you make no efforts to get up. you're more than overjoyed when you hear the sound of a keycard being used at the door, it finally swinging open a little harder than you expected, eren bending down to pick up the card he seemingly dropped.

he stumbles when he stands, grabbing the door. you're not sure if it was to close it or steady himself, but his gaze is trained on you the whole time when he shuts it, back pressed against the wood when it is completely closed, his frame only standing there for a few seconds before he giggles.

"______."

his words are slurred and he bumps into the end of his bed when he begins making his way over to you. the goofy way your name leaves his lips still makes your heart skip a beat and your hand slides your phone over, arms open for him. "eren."

although you've seen his face more times than you can count, it’s still refreshing to see it for a split second in the dim moonlight that shines on the side of his face as he passes the window. his hair is more tousled than you remember and his eyes are half lidded— but in a way that makes it seem like he was trying to make them as wide as possible. you can't help but shake your head as he crawls into your bed slowly, lifting the covers for him so he can slide in.

"______... you're awake." he hums when you drape the covers over both his and your body. he makes himself a home between your legs, head falling to your chest and his arms to his sides as hands scrunch into fists.

"i'm awake." he's hot to the touch and he makes you warmer than you were before, makes you stare at him in awe and caress his hair again, taming the stray locks on the top of his head.

"_______," you can smell the alcohol on his breath as well as a floral scent and the smell of sweat that littered his body. it's not off putting enough for you to want to tell him to "get up," and to "go sleep in your own bed." but you'd make a mental note to remind him to shower in the morning— not that he wouldn't take one without your reminder.

"yes, eren?"

eren scoots up more until his head is leveled with yours. his weight is heavy but soothing and you press yourself against him more, able to feel every rise and fall of his chest, every beat of his heart, and every exhale of his breath onto your cheek. "i love you."

you've heard it before more times than you could count. you were his childhood friend, it was so natural but you knew it meant more this time. yet, you couldn't scratch the fact that he was drunk and his words could be empty. you could wake up tomorrow and be the only one who would remember what he said. "yeah i know, eren."

he whimpers and his lips press to your cheek, it's elongated and hard, but when he's done he doesn't move them, letting his mouth rest against your skin.

when you don't reciprocate his fingers come up to turn your head towards him and he’s pressed his lips against yours this time. it's slow and sensual and you melt into the meager kiss. the taste of beer that lingers on eren's tongue is not enough for you to pull away, and the way eren kisses you sloppily and lazily isn't a bother either.

he groans and the vibrations can be felt where your body was up against his. his lips are slightly dry and it compliments the soft feel of yours that he can't seem to get enough of, his lips trapping your bottom one and him pulling back before doing the same with the top.

eren's thumb rubs against the skin of your tragus, every back and forth motion making the skin under it tingle. he uses the grip he has on your face to pull you in further and let his teeth graze your lower lip. you're so caught up in the moment, but the buzz of his phone in the pocket of his sweats that sagged against your thigh makes you jolt and pull away for a second.

he tries to bring your lips together again but you remember that he's drunk and both of you need sleep, especially eren if anything. "eren," you breathe, and he murmurs a "hm?" against the skin of your jaw that he was kissing, trailing back up to peck kisses to the corners of your lips.

"let's go to sleep."

"but i love you," he's whiney, a hand sliding down to bring you impossibly closer, pulling you by the small of your back. you sigh, your palms pushing off his chest to put some distance between the two of you that even you didn't want there. but the brunette was too handsy and you were only following your brain, not your heart.

your hand slips into the pocket of his sweats and you grab his phone, body flipping over to unplug yours and plug his in.

it vibrates once to signify that it was being charged, then twice to signify another incoming text message and the phone screen lights up, your eyes skimming the screen without thinking.

under every contact name was the words imessage, all his notifications including messages hidden from the lock screen.

you read the name armin, the text from the boy being the one that lit up eren's phone screen in your face, sasha, a text from her more than several hours ago, and an unsaved number that started with 760, the number having texted a couple minutes ago. you assumed it must've been the one that buzzed when eren was against you.

his phone screen goes dark and you place it down onto the bed, your phone beside it before pulling the covers more over you and not turning around towards eren. you were afraid he'd pester you again. you could feel his abdomen up against your back, arm slung over your midsection that he must've threw while you were plugging in his phone.

you can hear him snoring against your back and you could laugh at how fast he fell asleep, silently wishing that had been you hours ago. you scoot back against him more and close your eyes, the darkness replacing the pretty moonlight that the crooked blinds of your window let in.

"i love you too."

#eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren aot #eren snk #eren jeager x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut · 6 years ago

Text

Fate’s Divergence Chapter 4

@the-bagel-queen

@astraskylark

@theanxiety-tm

@terra-mations

@deyinger

Thank you all for so much support for this story! I’m glad people are enjoying it so far!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Dragon Prince

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

Callum tossed and turned, restless, in his bed. His eyes drifted to the moon, its glow reminding him of the elf girl’s white hair. He wondered what she was doing right now. Was she sleeping soundly? Was she restless just like him?

He hoped she was comfortable. He remembered his first night as a prince in the palace. He was super jumpy—constantly startling at any shadows in his new room. Everything was so foreign to him…

He sat up, a realization dawning on him. He had at least his mother when he first came here to help him settle into sleep while she didn’t appear to have anyone. His mother and the king didn’t mention she had any family. Was she an orphan?

Callum rose out of bed, his mind trying to uncover the mystery of the elf girl. He remembered how his family said Xadia couldn’t help her—was she upset Xadia kicked her out because she helped humans with the Titan’s heart?

“She must be lonely…” Callum whispered to himself, grabbing some stuffed animals to take with him to give her. “I’ll give her some of my toys to make her feel more at home!” He concluded quietly, smiling at his great idea.

He surveyed each toy critically, making sure to grab the dragon stuffed animal as well as tons of other animals. He hoped these made her happy. They were gifts from his mother and auntie. Hopefully, she didn’t think him too babyish for having them.

“It should be fine. Girls usually like stuffed animals…” Callum tried to reassure himself, remembering Claudia proudly showing off to him her own collection of stuffed toys. With that assertion, Callum crept out of his room, struggling with all his stuffed animals in his arms, and snuck down the hallways to where he remembered was the elf’s room. Luckily there were no guards patrolling down his hallway yet or else they definitely would notice a small boy almost drowned in stuffed animals. Arms overflowing with the plushies, he felt he dropped some before finally getting to his destination.

Arriving at her door, Callum silently opened it, sneaking inside. As soon as he opened the door, however, he could hear crying. Alarmed, Callum hurried inside the elf’s room, closing the door behind him so no one would catch him.

There she was on the bed, curling into a ball and sobbing her heart out. Callum’s heart squeezed uncomfortably at the scene. The moonlight washed over her like a pretty glow, highlighting her snow-white hair, horns, and pink pale skin. Seeing her, Callum was reminded of the beautiful princess with long hair trapped in her tower waiting for someone to come see her.

Dropping the toys, he scurried over to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder, not reserved at all in touching her.

The elf seemed to have finally realized she wasn’t alone for as soon as he touched her, she jolted and gazed up at him. Callum retracted his hand hurriedly, not wanting to scare her, and held up his hands in surrender.

“Hi!” he said, nervous and waving awkwardly. What should he say? He knew she didn’t speak Common and he didn’t speak Elvish. “Um! Don’t cry! I’m not gonna hurt you!”

Her eyes lit up in recognition, and she backed away a bit from him, scared.

“Hurt?” her eyes were alarmed and Callum rushed to reassure her.

“No! No hurt! I come in peace!” he tried to convey. He hoped she knew some more words.

“No… hurt?” this time, the elf furrowed her brow in confusion, trying to grasp what he was saying. He detected her voice had a strange accent.

“Right! No hurt! Just here to help!” Callum smiled reassuring her. He hurried to where the toys were discarded and brought them to her. “Here! I brought these to help you feel better!” Callum excitedly showed her his toys.

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

Rayla blinked, not expecting the human child to show her what she presumed to be his toys. Her hand reached out tentatively, the boy watching her with an encouraging smile. She paused.

“No hurt?” Rayla checked again, her suspicious eyes finding his, ready to detect any sort of lie. The boy nodded.

“No hurt.” He assured her again. He climbed onto the bed, getting closer to her, before showing her his toys again. “No hurt.” He repeated.

Rayla studied him, and found he was not lying. The boy was not there to hurt her. She traced his features with her violet eyes, remembering him with her kidnappers. It seemed he was their offspring.

What did this mean? Was he not aware she was going to be executed? And yet, his presence here, the fact that her door wasn’t locked like she thought, her kidnappers being gentle with her… all signs were pointing to possibly another reason she was here.

But… the titan’s heart! She saw it. Why else would these humans keep an elf if it wasn’t for Dark Magic? She remembered Runaan’s stories. How humans only wanted power and nothing else. They were heartless and cruel.

So why was a human child sharing his toys with her?

Rayla reached out a hand again, hesitantly petting the soft fabric. The boy’s smile grew in happiness, and he handed her the dragon plush.

“I know you can’t go home to Xadia, but this guy will always protect you! He’s like your Dragon King, right?” the boy asked. Rayla furrowed her brow, trying to pinpoint words she recognized, and found he was referring to her king. She gazed down at the stuffed toy, and sure enough, he did resemble her king.

“Amin aran…” Rayla mumbled in mourning, touching the stuffed toy. Tears shined in her eyes, and the boy began to panic.

“Oh no! He wasn’t supposed to make you cry! Do you want another toy?” the boy asked, but Rayla couldn’t understand him. She clutched the dragon toy tight to her chest, shaking her head. She wished someone knew Elvish so she could talk to someone. She appreciated the boy’s efforts, but it wasn’t the same as Runaan or Ethari or her parents.

However, the boy surprised her again when he crawled over and hugged her to his small frame.

“No hurt!” the boy repeated. He gestured to the stuffed toy and himself. “No hurt. You’re safe here.”

Rayla sniffled. It seemed he was trying to comfort her. She didn’t understand why. She didn’t understand humans at all. She was tired and scared. The boy held her close as she cried, clutching the stuffed dragon between them.

Somehow, his embrace made her feel less alone.

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

Sarai had risen early. She was accustomed to this since having Ezran, for he needed feeding in the early hours. Harrow was dressing for the day, preparing for today’s event of Viren’s spell. Both he and Sarai were solemn, knowing what the kingdom of Duran lost in order for them all to be saved.

“We will meet the delegates of Duran first before performing the spell.” Harrow told her. He gazed down at the memento the queens have given him to deliver to their daughter. “We need to pay respects.”

“I agree. If it wasn’t for them buying us some time, we wouldn’t have made it.” Sarai was also thinking about little Aanya. She couldn’t imagine how Aanya would grow up now, without the love of her mothers.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the doors.

“King Harrow! Queen Sarai!” the guard called. Harrow went to open the doors. The guard was huffing, as if he had run all the way to their chambers.

“What is it?” Harrow asked. The guard gave them a frantic look.

“Prince Callum is not in his bed, Your Highnesses!” the guard informed them. Sarai and Harrow immediately went to follow the guard.

“Where could he be? He usually doesn’t wake this soon after sunrise.” Sarai carried Ezran with her, clutching him close, as if afraid some unseen force would take him as well.

“Don’t worry, Sarai. We’ll find him.” Harrow reassured her. He gave a determined look at the guard. “Search everywhere! If he was taken, they couldn’t have gone far.”

Soon Amaya was called to join in the search, as well as some other soldiers. The more time passed, the more they worried something could’ve happened to Callum. It isn’t like him to leave his room and not come to the royal bedchambers if he had woken early.

Passing through a hallway, Amaya noticed some stuffed animals on the floor. She recognized them as Callum’s immediately. Curious, she followed the trail of more stuffed toys before she arrived at a bedroom door.

Amaya gently opened the door, peaking inside, her eyes critically taking in the surroundings before landing on the large bed in the middle of the room, the gentle glow of the morning sun shining on the occupants in the bed. The sight that greeted her made her eyes soften. She waved to a guard passing by to get the king and queen. Soon, her sister and her husband were rushing down the hall.

“Is he hurt?” Sarai fretted. Amaya smirked.

It seems your boy is getting his flirting started early. Amaya said. She held open the door. Look inside.

Sarai, Harrow, and a few guards peaked in, and sure enough, Callum was safe and sound, and he was cuddling the elf girl to him in his slumber. The elf girl allowed Callum to snuggle her, clutching his stuffed dragon Sarai had given him close. Everyone felt their hearts warm at the scene.

“We were so concerned with giving the elf privacy we didn’t think to check here at all.” Harrow whispered. Sarai gave him a smile.

“We certainly are silly.” Sarai agreed. She, Harrow, and Amaya made their way into the room, dismissing the guards. Sarai went towards Callum, caressing his cheek. “Callum, sweetheart, it’s time to wake up.”

“’m comfy…” Callum groggily protested, bringing the elf girl closer. Harrow, Sarai, and Amaya had to contain their giggles. However, it was Ezran who decided there was enough quiet.

Baby Ezran gave a loud shout, wanting to join his brother on the bed, and Callum and the elf girl sprung up, disoriented and startled. Callum wouldn’t let go of the elf girl, trying to protect her, before he realized it was just his family. Sighing in relief, he eased his grip off of the elf girl and smiled sleepily.

“Hi mom!” Callum yawned. He then became more aware and gave them a quizzical look. “Did something happen? Why is everyone here?”

Ezran, seeing his big brother awake, held out his arms from Sarai’s hold to indicate he wanted to be with him. Sarai gave both her boys a fond smile.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetie. We just didn’t know where you were.” Sarai reassured him.

“Oh, I was with Moonlily!” Callum simply said, standing on the bed and going to give Ezran a kiss. The three adults were confused.

“Moonlily?” Harrow parroted.

“Yeah! We don’t know her name yet and she reminds me of those pretty flowers I saw in a book about Xadia once, so I am going to call her my Moonlily!” Callum told them happily, gesturing to the elf who was watching them warily from the bed. He turned back to the elf, grasping her hands, pulling her to stand on the bed too. “Moonlily! Come here!”

“Boy works fast.” Harrow teased Sarai, who rolled her eyes, but she was also smiling.

As for the elf, she eyed them with distrust, which Callum noticed, and he rushed to soothe her.

“No hurt you!” Callum told the elf. The elf girl gave him a skeptical look.

“No… hurt.” She said, doubtful. Callum turned to the adults.

“I think she thinks we’re going to hurt her. I found her crying last night and she seemed really sad.” Callum frowned at them. “We’re not going to, right?” he began to panic, thinking he put his Moonlily in danger.

“No, sweetheart! Of course not.” Sarai immediately reassured Callum.

“She’s our guest here, Callum. No harm will come to her as long as I am king.” Harrow promised. Callum sighed in relief.

“That’s good. I don’t know how to tell her she’s safe.” Callum appeared sad. “It hurts when she cries.”

Harrow, Amaya, and Saria exchanged looks before glancing towards the elf who was watching them with suspicion. Sarai put Ezran down on the bed, and the elf watched fascinated at the baby human boy crawling to her. She knelt down on the covers, reaching out a hand shyly.

Ezran didn’t waste time and clutched some of her small fingers with his even smaller ones. He giggled happily at the feel of her skin, and the elf couldn’t help but smile nervously.

“Vedui' ai Edan” the elf said. Sarai couldn’t help but give a smile at the wonderful scene.

“Little one,” Sarai called, making the elf glance at her. “We won’t hurt you. Please don’t be afraid.” She reached a hand out and ruffled Ezran’s hair, who gave a shout of delight.

The elf examined her critically, and the three adults made sure to appear non-threatening as possible. The elf chanced a look at Callum and Ezran again, appearing pensive about whether or not to trust them.

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

Rayla observed the adults in the room, weighing their words—or the ones she did know—in her head. It appeared they too, were not trying to hurt her.

If they meant her no harm, then why did they take her from Xadia? Rayla was frustrated. She wanted answers, but it was clear with the language barrier she wasn’t going to get them.

It was clear to her they were in Xadia now to get a magma titan’s heart, but for what? And why? If she knew these things, she could find it easier to determine motives, to judge for herself if she was truly out of harm’s way or not.

Rayla couldn’t help but chance a look at the human boy and his baby brother. They gave her happy smiles in return. The boy really didn’t think his family was going to hurt her.

For now, she would have to believe in him.

She turned to the three adults watching her curiously, and got up, picking up the baby human and handing him to her kidnapper.

“No hurt?” Rayla checked again, looking for any deception.

“No, little one.” The woman said, smiling gently, taking the baby into her arms. “No hurt.”

Rayla sighed in relief, nearly collapsing on the bed. It wasn’t all the answers or everything she needed to know, but it was knowledge that was comforting all the same.

For Rayla, that was all that mattered for now.

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

There’s chapter 4! I hope people enjoyed the Callum and Rayla interactions!

Translations:

Amin aran = My king

Vedui' ai Edan = greetings small human

121 notes · View notes

damienthepious · 5 years ago

Text

im. heck. this is long. tuesday???!? aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. forgive typos i’m RUSHING to get this up before i have to leave for work.

Scattered On My Shore (Chapter 14)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [Ch 12] [Ch 13] [ao3] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [Ch 17] [Ch 18] [Ch 19]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol)

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: A homecoming.

Chapter Notes: These dang things just keep getting longer, don't they? Also I'm emotional. I'm so fucking emotional. Chapter specific warnings for an explicit threat of violence, not carried through with.

Arum insists on coming out to the front room for breakfast the next morning. Saving his strength is all well and good, but if Arum need be confined to that little bed for the entire time between now and their departure, he will certainly not make it that far. Amaryllis was right, that day he attempted escape. At least the view out there is different, and- well. He is comfortable in the room with the cot, by now, but it is far less clinical in Amaryllis' living space. It makes him feel less of a patient and more… more of a guest. Which he should not care about, of course.

Amaryllis relents rather quickly on the subject, provided that he agree to pick a spot and stick to it, until the evening. She is overly concerned with him, not quite paranoid but certainly delving into the territory of what Arum is comfortable referring to as fretting. She scowls when he calls it that, which is gratifying, but it also appears to make her more conscious of how delicate she is being with him, and she rolls her eyes at herself before she helps to lift him to his feet, shuffling slowly out to the table.

Amaryllis and Sir Damien keep their hands clasped between them throughout their breakfast together. Seems inconvenient, Arum thinks, pulling his eyes away from the easy way their fingers interlace. They do not have an overabundance of limbs to work with. Surely they should not impede themselves for such a- a pointless gesture.

They are-

Arum cannot say what, precisely, it is, but he feels as if something is strange between the pair of them. Or- or perhaps that something had been strange, and has now settled. They are sitting closer, and something about their proximity feels… easier. Sir Damien, in particular, seems more calm, though Amaryllis still has a layer of nervous energy to her.

Of course, Amaryllis is not particularly patient. She does not hold the tension inside of her for long, after they have finished eating.

"So," Amaryllis says, and Arum frowns instantly. "So… Damien is gonna be- coming with us for the trip."

Arum jerks his head to look at the knight, and Damien nods slightly.

"Wh-why?" Arum barks.

"Because… because I want to," Damien says quietly, and then he- smiles, soft and odd, and Arum remembers Damien's hand on his chin, despite himself, "and because I do not think it would be safe for only the pair of you to take that trip. Too many potential dangers, on both sides. I am certain that Rilla has discussed- ah, potential ways to disguise you, so that you will be in less danger from… knights."

Damien's voice has gone soft as well, and Arum can see some strange pain on his face, though Arum cannot say precisely what that indicates. How much separation can this creature feel from his own order?

"But of course that does not mean there will not still be some risk, if…" Damien pauses again. "I would feel better, being there. And… I have my part in this, as well."

"Your part ," Arum echoes. "What do you mean, your part in this?"

Damien pauses for a long moment, clearly considering his words.

"I want to see you home and safe as well, Arum. I have… committed this far. I will follow through."

"Committed?" Arum says. "I hardly think this counts as a commitment. You- you have allowed Amaryllis to- you have denied your duty in slaying me-"

Arum cuts himself off with a wince, then glances toward Amaryllis and away again. Damien does not rise to this statement, does not comment or deny.

It is clear, from the mild confusion on Amaryllis' face, that Damien has not told her the precise shape of what passed between the two of them, the previous day. What Arum nearly pushed Sir Damien to do.

"You…" Arum trails off. "Fine. If you should like to come, I do not see what it will hurt. I shall be curious to see how deep your treachery runs."

"Arum," Rilla warns.

Arum winces again, then sighs and looks away. "It is not as if I could stop you, anyway."

Damien tilts his head. Arum can see it, in his periphery.

"If it would… truly cause you distress, I would… I would worry rather deeply, but I would stay-"

"I said I could not stop you," Arum repeats in a sharp voice. "It is not as if you distress me, songbird, I simply- I do not understand."

"Yes," Damien says softly. "Well. That is… fair. It is a… somewhat complicated situation, is it not? But- but I will take this journey with you, if you allow me."

"I said I could not stop you, honeysuckle,” Arum growls, and judging by Amaryllis’ breath of laughter his tone must be unconvincing. “If that is your choice, that is your choice."

Damien's mouth curls slightly, a smile vague but pleasant, and Arum can't stand to keep his eyes on the pair of them together, though they keep drawing back, regardless.

"Very well. I will accompany you, then."

Arum huffs, wrinkling his snout. "I am surprised that your Citadel can spare you. I thought you creatures were rather strictly kept."

Damien purses his lips, then sighs. "We are… currently in something of a lull, I suppose. There was a thread our Investigator General intended to pull, but… well… when pulled, the pattern simply unraveled. There was a rash of monster attacks with similar stratagems, but they've dissipated like mist over the last… during the last few…" he trails off, his tone going blank. "The… the last few weeks."

Arum feels the twinge in his frill, knows perfectly well he is giving himself away, but Damien does not turn his eyes towards him, accusatory or otherwise.

The pause draws long, and Amaryllis is clearly hovering on the edge of words herself.

"Well?" Arum snaps, eventually. "Are you going to ask or aren't you? Go ahead, then. I told you I made weapons against your kind. What, precisely, were these consistent stratagems you were attempting to ferret out?"

"Arum," Rilla says gently, but Arum scowls more deeply as Sir Damien meets his eyes.

“Well, Sir Damien?”

Damien holds his gaze, for a quiet moment. "There were a number of creatures, in short time, utilizing powers of manipulation. Encouraging conflict, stoking self doubt, provoking pain. Assaulting the mind first, in order to more effectively destroy the body."

"Yes," Arum says in a hiss. "Yes, I am certain I created the creatures of which you speak. I cannot imagine any other could have managed to replicate my work."

"The mushrooms," Rilla murmurs, her brow furrowed. "It was- pain. Illusions of things we- things we were afraid of, things that hurt us."

Arum wishes he could burn the grubs a second time. The look on Amaryllis' face is unbearable, but then she looks up at him, raking her eyes over his face, her expression oddly desperate.

"Yes," he hisses again.

"I…" Damien's face goes mournful as Arum snaps his attention back to the knight. "I cannot say that no harm was done by the creatures, that none were killed. I cannot alleviate your guilt in that way-" Arum scoffs, but he cannot deny, not with the way Damien is looking at him. "But… but I can say that none are doing harm any longer."

Arum looks away, too uncomfortable to pretend otherwise. "If you say so."

"Regardless," Damien continues in a low, measured voice. "As to whether or not I may be spared by the Citadel- while the Investigator General searches for a new loose thread to worry over, the ranks await more specific direction, and-" Damien gives a very small laugh, and the corner of Rilla's mouth pulls into an answering smile. "And I very, very rarely use the time I am granted, for leave. More often than not, I am too worried over the prospect of leaving my fellow knights without assistance. So… none were troubled, that I wished to take my allotted time now, to assist my Rilla."

It is more of an answer than Arum expected. In truth, he had merely been trying to rile the knight again. He huffs out another breath, claws drumming on the table.

"Okay," Rilla says, drawing the word out into more syllables than it requires. "Okay. Uh, that seems settled enough for me, I think. This has been awkward enough for one morning. So, Arum, I, uh-"

She pauses, and Damien squeezes her hand, and Arum hears her breath come steadier, again. She sighs.

"So, I was thinking, we should leave either tomorrow or the day after." She pauses again. "Maybe the day after. You're standing better, and Damien's offered his horse, so- you'll ride, and we'll walk. It'll take longer, but even if we had three horses it probably wouldn't be safe for you to ride at speed anyway, you could jostle something open, or-" She bites her lip. "So. You on the horse, me and Damien walking, and- it'll be slow. What is it, two weeks to your swamp?"

"Something… something to that effect, yes. Though-" he clenches his teeth. "When we are close- we only need reach the border, I think, and we will not need to travel by foot any longer."

"The border. Okay. Okay, and, um, with the route we planned the other day, we should be…" her lips twitch into a smile. "We can do this. We can get you home, and then- ah… I've- I've made up a bunch of extra-"

Her voice- cracks a little, and some pain crosses her face. Arum blinks. He does not understand why she would be…

"For- um. For after I- for after we-" she pauses, inhaling sharply. "I made up a bunch of extra salves, and painkillers, and- and a replacement wrap, so your horn will- so your horn will keep together, and a new cast that should last until your wrist is healed and- so you won't have to worry… when I'm gone."

Arum stares at her, at the odd twisting of her almost-smile. "Ah."

I'm gonna miss him, is the only thing.

Amaryllis' voice on the recorder had been so keening and strange, and it had pulled on Arum's heart like his own yearning for the Keep and- and he could not help but believe her. She is … she is going to miss him. She will feel his absence. Such a terribly strange feeling-

And Arum had been honest, when he told her that he would miss her in return. Though, of course, Arum knows that had not been the whole of it. It is not the whole of it, but he will feel her absence, as well.

"Very…" he swallows. "Very forward thinking of you," he manages. "I… I had no fears, of course. And all I require is home, regardless. Seems a shame, I think, to make you waste an entire month ferrying me back and then needing to return. Certainly your other patients will be missing you, with your skill."

"Yeah, well, I may be the best doctor in the Citadel, but I'm not the only doctor in the Citadel. They'll manage." She smiles again, a little less certainly, and Damien squeezes her hand again.

"Do you feel ready enough for the trip, Lord Arum?" Damien asks.

Arum hates the way his own heart turns, slowly, like a key in a lock, every time Sir Damien calls him that. It is ridiculous. It is his name , it does not make sense , but- the way his tone curls around Lord, the way Arum seems to sit at the back of his mouth. Lord Arum. Respectful formality from a knight. It is … strange, that is all. It is still strange.

"I am… as ready as I shall be," he murmurs. "I cannot afford further delay. My swamp, my home, it… it has been…"

"Without its Lord," Damien finishes, gently.

"Yes. My swamp… and my Keep."

Rilla startles slightly, but Arum… Arum does not know why he has bothered to continue concealing the Keep's existence anyway, and Sir Damien has made it… abundantly clear, that his stance has changed. This stiff-spined little human has shifted his footing, has gained a new vantage, as incomprehensible as that seems.

Damien purses his lips, his face going questioning. "Have you… mentioned a Keep before?" He asks. "Or- no. I think- I think you have only nearly mentioned a Keep before."

"Perceptive," Arum grumbles, his tone hovering between irritated and impressed. "Yes. My home, my Keep." He pauses. "I have already explained it to Amaryllis, I do not- I do not feel-"

"You need not explain anything to me, Lord Arum. Home is…" he presses a hand over his heart. Arum hears his breath catch. "All creatures should be blessed with shelter, with home. It is…" he pauses again. "I am certain you will be glad to be returned to yours. We shall do all we can, to make that come to pass for you."

"Yes, well…" Arum glances aside, uncomfortable. "The sooner the better." He clasps his claws in front of himself, then glances towards Amaryllis. "The… the day after tomorrow, you said, Amaryllis. If you think I shall require the extra day."

Amaryllis nods, and Arum does not know what they will do in the interim. He had not been planning, truly, to make it this far. And now he has today, and tomorrow, to worry and wonder about this upcoming trip. To worry and wonder, about the softness of Sir Damien's hand on his chin. About the leaping of his own heart, at the gentleness with which the knight had lifted it. About the prospect of Amaryllis missing him. About all these strange and bitter hungers that have begun to curl within him.

Arum's eyes have found Amaryllis and Sir Damien's clasped hands again, tracking the way that Damien's thumb is brushing soft over the back of it, a slow, comforting rhythm, as Amaryllis' hand squeezes his. Arum's tongue flicks compulsively, and he buries the urge to-

He does not even know. He is not close enough to reach their hands, and what would he do even if he was? Even if he- if he reached out and wrapped his hand around both of their own (his hand is large enough to do so, his fingers longer than theirs, their stubby little mammal things with their blunt nails and their soft brown skin) (Arum knows the softness both of their hands, now), even if he were to do so-

Certainly they would not welcome his intrusion. Certainly not. They are both so eager to see him gone from their lives. And Arum is eager as well, of course, to return to his Keep, to return to his life. He is eager to close the door on this bizarre little chapter-

A lie. Too deep to stand.

He is not eager to close the door on this chapter. He is not ready. Two days. Two days- only two more days in this strange little hut, in this short-ceilinged human construction, full of herb smell and strange baubles and dangerous plants and skillful wordsmithing and a heretical, compassionate little doctor, and her knight.

Arum has never had a place outside of the Keep before, where he felt himself truly safe. Arum's mind is still… halved in a strange way, he still feels the absence of the Keep's thoughts at his edges, still feels where the Keep is meant to fit, where song should shift into… meaning, and affection, and shared memory, and home.

But if Arum could still feel the Keep here, he would be entirely unable to pretend, anymore, that he does not wish there was some way he could stay.

Arum intends to finish the translation, before they leave. It will not be difficult, all things considered. The tome is short, the material arranged in no particular order but with consistent notation for the entries, and he is familiar enough with a decent amount of the species listed that it speeds the process considerably. He needs not even attempt to scrawl the information out in his slightly more stilted attempt at human script, now that Amaryllis is in the room with him again. She simply sets her recorder beside him and he speaks as he works, occasionally drifting into conversation rather than translation, or narrowing his eyes at a particular peculiarity of the dialect, the drifting etymology of distance.

When he turns the page and sees the Moonlit Hermit, he freezes. After a moment, he drifts his claws down the page, tracing the single narrow line that depicts the flower's stem.

So small a thing, to cause so much trouble.

"The Moonlit Hermit," he murmurs, and Amaryllis drops a roll of bandages, the white ribboning off as it unrolls across her floor.

He raises an eyebrow as she scrambles to retrieve the roll, laughing awkwardly, and when she straightens she won't meet his eyes for a long moment.

"Amaryllis?"

"Just- forgot that one was in there too."

He tilts his head. "Why does it matter? What is the Hermit to you, then?" he asks, because if the Universe insists on piercing him through to make a point-

"My- my parents were researching it. It was a big part of their research, actually- the Hermit, what it could do- the potential it had-"

Arum frowns, automatically, remembering the particular results he had pulled from the potential of the Hermit in his possession.

"I've- I've been trying to… to find one," she says, her voice gone small, and Arum forces himself not to stare at her, at the longing on her face. He looks to the book, instead.

"I am afraid there is very little on the subject in this particular volume, Amaryllis," he says, gently, and she sighs.

"That… yeah, I kind of expected that. I couldn't read it, but- I could tell the entry was short. Shorter than most of the other ones, at least."

"It mentions the unnatural fragility of the stem," he murmurs, tracing his claw along the lettering. "Five pale petals, the glow of moonless night, the utter incongruity… hm," he traces the shape of the drawing on the paper again, remembering. "Volumes of this sort so rarely bother to note the sounds. It chimes, as well, at contact or in use. It is not the most beautiful song I have ever heard, but… it suits. Cool, and delicate."

He realizes, after a pause, that Amaryllis is staring at him. He pulls his eyes from the book, wary at her uncertain gaze.

"What?"

"You… you've heard it? You've- you've seen one. Arum- Arum, you've seen a Moonlit Hermit?" She sets her medical bag aside, her packing entirely forgotten. "Arum, please, you have to tell me where I can- how- I have to see it. I have to- to-"

His heart sinks, the hope in her voice too unfortunate to stand. "If it still existed, Amaryllis… I would certainly think it fair payment for the service you have provided me, but- it was destroyed." He pauses, sighs. "I destroyed it."

"You-" she looks too stunned to be properly furious, but Arum suspects that will come soon enough. " What?"

"Those who attacked me," he says softly, "desired to take it for themselves. To use it. Just as I had been using it, of course, to create weapons against your kind." He pauses, exhales. "I wish I could say, Amaryllis, that it had been a choice made of morality, but- I did not yet know you. I- there are many things I did not yet know, when I…" he traces the shape of the petals again, one, two, three, four, five, and his lip curls in an almost smile. "I ensured that our meeting occurred in daylight, as insurance. It was easy enough, when I realized I had been betrayed, to lift so fragile a thing into the light."

"Arum-"

"Spite. I destroyed the Hermit in spite, Amaryllis, because I knew they intended to kill me, and I did not want to give them the satisfaction of beating me, as well. Of taking what I rightfully found. I threw myself into the river for the sake of that same spite. I would rather drown than let them slit my throat, so…"

She is touching his shoulder, now. He does not look at her.

"I do not regret my actions. The Hermit could have… would have done some good, in your hands, of that I am certain, but… I am glad it was destroyed, rather than be misused again. Rather than being twisted to further bloodshed."

Her hand on his shoulder lifts, and she almost touches his face. Almost. He keeps his eyes safely away.

After a breath, she drops the hand, and turns, and returns to her packing. Arum feels his stomach twisting, regret and shame, fear, desire, all of it colliding together within him like a collapsing building, but still he does not look. He breathes and breathes until he is certain that his voice will not shake, and then he turns the page, and resumes his translation.

It feels as if Arum simply blinks, and two full days have passed. Sir Damien wakes before dawn, and Arum, his nerves sharp and heightened, wakes at his careful noise, at the click of the door behind him as he goes outside to run through his routine.

Amaryllis wakes not long after, throwing together a quick sort of breakfast and quietly going through a checklist of their supplies before she comes to, in theory, wake him.

She smiles, clearly unsurprised when she finds him already awake, already digging his claws into the sheets, and the smile stays as she helps him to his feet.

She wraps him in layers. A simple strategy, but simplicity is more reliable than the delicacy of complication, in Arum's experience. He keeps the cape on beneath the rest, and she smiles when she is done wrapping the rest around him. He can see the crooked shape of it through the sheer scarf covering his face.

And then, for the first time since he woke in Amaryllis’ hut, he steps outside.

Arum does not want to look back, to acknowledge the finality of walking away from this hut, of stepping up into the saddle and riding away from this shelter, riding back towards his true home.

He does not wish to look back.

Rather- he wishes that he did not want to.

He turns despite himself as Amaryllis adjusts the robes that hide his scales, ensuring that his tail is hidden as he curls it around his own ankle. He does not mean to, but he turns, and-

It looks so much smaller, from the outside. Squat and friendly and warm, with flowering vines curling familiar across trellises and a clean little herb garden and the mossy stump where Damien likes to sit and compose when he is finished with his exercises, and the curtained window Arum knows the shape of so terribly well, from the other side.

So many days. So very long, he has spent in such a small, strange space. And now-

He cannot imagine that he will ever see it again.

Arum is almost grateful for the ridiculous layers. At least neither of the humans can see the way his face twists, as his heart lurches with the grief of parting.

They travel light; there’s not much they need to take with them. Rilla keeps her medical bag, of course, in case of emergencies or in case the traveling impedes Arum’s recovery in some way, along with her bag of extra supplies she's gonna leave with him when they get him back home. Damien pretty much just has his armor, his bow, and his usual traveling supplies: bedroll, rations, canteen, et cetera. Arum has nothing to bring, obviously. Nothing except for his mended cape, which is wrapped secure around his shoulders beneath the rest of his mild disguise. Rilla covered him in strategic layers, scarves and shawls and large loose pants that collectively obscure his form and face as he sits sideways in the saddle of Damien’s horse, who only required minimal acclimating to adjust to the weight of a monster. Currently, Arum looks enough like an excessively ill person swaddled like an infant, or like a particularly old-fashioned noble, and hopefully they won’t need to do much by the way of explanation on the less-traveled roads they intend to use.

It’s slow going, of course. Anything more than the lightest movement could be a risk for Arum; jostling around on top of a horse isn’t exactly healthy for healing stab and slash wounds, obviously.

Every time they pass another group, Damien looks like he’s about to be sick, face twisting in a completely unconvincing smile and his voice going high and reedy if he tries to greet them. Rilla does most of the talking, for a change, and Arum sits tense and stiff and dignified astride the horse, and occasionally nods through his scarves at whomever happens to be passing by.

Nights are more difficult. They need to wander far from the road to set up camp, and they need to obscure the fire on one side to make it more difficult to see from where they came, to avoid other eyes, and they wait until it is safely dark every night before Arum can remove his layers of disguise and sigh in the open air again. He always keeps his cape safely draped around his shoulders after the rest has been left in a pile nearby, a claw curled along the edge of the fabric as he settles close and warm by the fire.

He’s tired , Rilla can tell. The travel on top of his recovery, and the constant strain of worry that comes from the threat of discovery- it’s no wonder, really. She wishes she could make this easier for him, wishes she could just snap her fingers and have him home to his Keep, but- this is the best she can do, for now. She’ll get him home, long way around or no.

"Sir Damien."

They are preparing to resume their travel in the morning, Damien packing the last of their supplies back up from their makeshift camp while Rilla tends to Damien's horse, and Arum is wrapped already in his layers as they wait for Rilla to return, to help Arum back into the saddle for the day. Damien glances down at the obscured monster, lips pursing nervously, but he does not think the monster is looking back at him. It is difficult to tell, with the layers, but Damien thinks that Arum is looking towards Rilla again.

"Yes, Lord Arum?"

He continues to stare for a moment, and then Arum glances away. His voice comes even quieter, then. "We are still close to your Citadel, little knight," he murmurs. "There is still time between us and my home, and many opportunities for this expedition to fall apart."

"Pessimism will not help the situation, Lord Arum," Damien says mildly.

"Perhaps not. But pragmatism-" he pauses, sighs. "If the worst is to happen, if I am discovered along this mad little journey… Amaryllis must not be seen as guilty for helping a monster. I refuse to have her suffer for this absurd kindness."

Damien pauses, his heart doing a swooping little flip, and he looks at Arum again in disbelief. "What-"

"If we are discovered, they must believe that I forced her to treat me, forced her to escort me home. They must believe that she was made to do it, that I threatened or coerced or- she must not be seen a traitor for my sake. Do you understand me, Sir Damien?"

Damien presses a hand over his heart, presses as hard as the thudding pressing out. He forces his breath to come steady enough for words, just for one sentence. "Rilla would not be happy, with that particular deception," he rasps, looking at his fiance through the rosy morning light.

"That," Arum says with a growl, "is precisely why I am asking you, and not the doctor herself. I trust that you will protect her. I know that you will."

Damien wishes so dearly that he could see the monster's face, just now. That he could see the look in his violet eyes.

"Honeysuckle," Arum says quietly, roughly. "Tell me that I am correct."

"This- this is not like the other day, is it? This is not more of the same, again, more of you trying to- to-"

"This is not an act of self destruction, honeysuckle." Arum stares up at him, or at least, Damien assumes that is the direction the monster is aiming his eyes. "But she must be safe."

Damien inhales, exhales, inhales.

"Rilla would never forgive me, if I caused you to be hurt in her stead. You must know that, Lord Arum."

The monster clenches his hands, his head ducking just slightly. "It is more important that she be alive, to forgive you or not." He turns his head a little further away, then, his voice going even quieter. "Of course she will forgive you, little fool. She loves you."

Damien's throat goes tight and hot and uncomfortable, his heart thrumming and thrumming, and the words boil within him but he cannot say-

Do you think I do not know that you love her as well? Can you not see that she loves you in return?

His lips part, he is going to say something too foolish for their unspoken understanding to survive, but-

Rilla is returning.

Arum's shoulders go stiff, and before she is in hearing distance he mutters, "I must trust that you will do what is right, Sir Damien."

Damien breathes slow, summoning tranquility as best he can, listening to the drumming of his own heart, and he knows that he will. He will do what is right, even if that is not the same as what Arum has asked of him.

Rilla is fairly bored on the road. She can't read effectively while walking, and they only have the one horse. She can only glean so much amusement out of cataloging the wildlife as they pass it by, but Damien knows her far too well to let her boredom sit. He starts reciting as they travel, spinning stories, sharing newer compositions, weaving tales in the air between them, accompanied by jungle noises and the hum of insects.

Rilla sings, as well, when Damien's poor voice needs a rest, and she pretends not to notice when she starts a song and Arum stiffens in recognition. Pretends even harder not to notice when he hums along, when he harmonizes in his low, careful voice. She pretends, poorly, not to grin in delight, the smile tipping her singing voice even brighter.

If she didn't feel like she was riding off to break her own stupid, stupid heart, this would be the most fun she's had on a trip in ages.

Unnatural quiet in the jungle dark, and Sir Damien comes awake with the fingers of one hand already gripped on his bow, a strange and familiar rushing in his ears.

He remembers where he is without strain. He can feel the dirt beneath him through the bedroll, can feel Rilla close beside him, can hear her breathing light.

He can hear little else besides. A stillness hangs in the night air, and Damien feels it. He feels attack waiting, can taste tension on the air. He can almost hear the source. Almost.

Damien breathes slow. Panic is a faraway thing, just now. A faraway thing that cannot possibly touch him. The rushing in his ears has gone slowly rhythmic, and Damien waits, Damien waits, Damien waits for the precise moment. For the strike. For his parry.

His heart. Rilla's breath. The rustle of leaf and soil. The padding, just low, of paws. Damien tenses, poised and prepared and waiting, waiting for just the right moment-

"If you take one… single… step… closer," says a low, guttural, growling voice, and Sir Damien realizes after a startled breath that he recognizes it. He recognizes the voice, because it belongs to Lord Arum, though it has been pitched dangerous as it echoes strange and placeless among the trees. "If you take just one more step… I will make a meal of your entrails while you still live."

There is a pause, a stillness deeper, even, than the one which came before it.

"Do not test me," Arum continues, dark and certain. "These creatures are not yours to hunt."

Another pause. Slowly, slowly, the sense of danger recedes. The night noises of the jungle resume in its absence, the whine of insects and the rustle of small creatures, and Damien knows they are safe again.

Damien has never heard Lord Arum sound quite like that, before. Dark. Dangerous. Protective. And Damien does not feel an ounce of fear, at that voice, though his heart is thudding hot.

Not yours to hunt.

Not yours, he said. Does that mean, then, that Arum considers them his?

Another long pause draws out in the darkness as Damien tries to shake the memory of Arum's voice, as he feels the gooseflesh shiver across his skin, and then there is a noise, shifting close by.

"You are awake, aren't you, honeysuckle?"

Arum's voice no longer sounds strange. It no longer echoes oddly, and the venom is gone from it, leaving the monster sounding only soft, murmuring through the black of night.

"Yes," Damien whispers.

"I did not intend to wake you," Arum hisses.

"You did not," Damien says, just as low. "I… I felt that something was wrong. I woke before you… scared the creature away. Will it return, do you think?"

"Certainly not," Arum drawls, gently. "We are close to my territory now, little songbird, and I know the sorts of scavengers that prowl my borders. I know a coward when I smell one," he hisses. "She expected an easy meal. That, we most certainly are not. She will not try again."

"How…" Damien needs to pause, to swallow. "How did you know I was awake?"

"Your breathing shifted… your heartbeat. I can hear them both from here."

It is difficult, for Damien, not to feel exposed, knowing that. He is certain that his heart is still beating hard. Harder, now.

"And… and did you slip into the trees, to frighten the creature away? I will be compelled to tell Rilla if you exerted yourself while she slept-"

"I did not budge an inch, honeysuckle. Don't be foolish."

Damien blinks, for all the good it does him. The bare hint of stars between the canopy above flickers, just for a moment. "But- but your voice, Arum," he murmurs, and when Arum chuckles low Damien can feel heat pooling odd in his stomach. "You sounded as if…"

"As if I could be anywhere," Arum murmurs , and his voice echoes again, placeless, but close and worrying. "Yes … I told you, honeysuckle, that I had some skill, some tricks up my sleeves…"

Even more worrying than Arum's voice itself: the way the low heat of it makes the answering heat in Damien's stomach pulse.

"A-Arum," Damien whispers, and he releases his grip on his bow, reaching into the dark instead, grasping in the direction that Arum's voice had seemed to come from, for those few words where he had sounded ordinary again. "Where… where are you?"

There is a brief pause, a more gentle laugh in the dark.

"I am close enough to pluck you, still, little honeysuckle," he says in a rumble that rolls down Damien's spine, and he cannot help the way his breath catches, his eyes darting in the darkness as he tries to pin Arum's place. "Have no fear." Another laugh, even warmer. "Unless… unless my proximity is what worries you, of course."

"Arum," Damien breathes, reaching his hand our further.

"I'm here," Arum hisses. "I forget the limitations of your senses. I can see you, blue as you are in the starlight. Can you truly not see me?"

"I…" Damien swallows roughly, feeling Rilla warm beside him, feeling the coolness of the dirt beneath him, knowing that this monster is somewhere, so close by, watching him through the dark. Damien shakes his head, testing.

"How interesting," Arum murmurs, and his voice is still bouncing strange, as if it could be coming from the whole of the jungle itself.

A pause drags out, then, and Damien grasps, feeling across the scattered leaves, towards where Arum's bedroll should be.

Arum's hand intercepts his own, and when the monster laughs soft again, he sounds only close, only ordinary again. "I told you, honeysuckle. I am here."

"Arum," Damien whispers, the texture of scales so strange against his palm, and Arum pulls his hand closer, touching it to- to his cheek, Damien imagines, and he can feel the rumbling of his throat and the rumbling of his voice as he speaks again.

"I did not budge an inch," he hisses again, and Damien can feel him speaking, even as his voice echoes in the canopy above.

Damien can barely focus on the fascination he feels at that, though, because the reality of Arum's face in his hand, again- the reality of the monster laying so close beside them in the dark- it is twisting so- so-

So pleasantly, within him. Damien's mouth has gone dry.

"Go back to sleep, honeysuckle," Arum murmurs, his voice gone quiet and normal again, and he squeezes Damien's hand as he moves it away from his face again. "Go back to sleep. We are safe, I assure you."

Damien believes him instantly. Damien believed him the first time, when he insisted the other monster would not return. He knows that they are safe, that the three of them together are more dangerous than anything the wilds could possibly assail them with.

"Are you certain?" he asks again, regardless, because his heart is racing and he knows that Arum can hear it, and certainly he requires this excuse for the pounding rhythm, and for the way he has not pulled his hand away from Arum's.

Arum has not pulled his hand away, either.

"We are safe," Arum repeats in a hiss. "I promise. Go back to sleep, Damien."

Damien squeezes his eyes shut, despite the dark, hoping that Arum is no longer looking at his face, that he cannot see Damien's expression in the dark.

Damien pretends that he has forgotten their hands, clasped together. He steadies his own breathing, pretends not to feel his own heat permeating Arum's hand, and-

And Arum does not pull his hand away, either.

Arum does not pull his hand away. Not before Damien falls back asleep in truth, at least.

The rumors are true, apparently.

They can see it in the distance when they round the crest of a hill, a gap in the canopy of trees above the road giving them a decent look towards the swamp in the distance that is apparently Arum’s home.

The swamp that is also, apparently, creeping outward.

They can see outcroppings of new-grown swamp greenery that stands out among the wider jungle, pushing past the usual border between the two, and even at this distance Rilla can see the speckling of purple from the blooms that give the swamp its name as well, and from this perspective the growth looks like curling fingers, reaching out.

Searching, Rilla thinks. A desperate hand, combing through the jungle to look for the missing ruler currently bundled up on the horse behind her. She glances back towards him, and even hidden behind the layers of cloth she can see the tension in his frame, can feel the impatient energy radiating from him.

“Almost there,” she says, and he tilts his head down towards her with a sharp breath. “Not much farther, now.”

He nods, and she sees him hesitate for only a moment before his eagerness gets the better of him.

“If one of those- those outgrowths is close enough, we should aim for it. We may be afforded a shortcut. Save further time,” he hisses quietly, and that’s pretty confusing but Rilla nods in response. He knows this place better than she does, after all.

Damien holds his own tongue for a moment before he points out one in particular, a vivid purple growth curling out, and quietly suggests a path they could take in that direction, a smaller road that should take them close.

Arum grows more and more agitated as they make their approach, and they all notice at the same moment that the outgrowths aren't the only strange thing about the swamp's border, nor are they the only new growth. She understands belatedly why the border was so easy to see from a distance-

There is a wall. The foliage on the edge is tightly packed, unnaturally so, the trees interwoven with newer saplings and quick vines, an enormous wicker boundary spotted with bright splotches of poisonous plants (Rilla can tell, even at this distance). Arum picks up a low growl, compulsive and continuous, and Rilla clenches her hands tight but she doesn't warn him against the noise. She doubts any other humans would be coming this close while the swamp is doing… whatever this is, and honestly, she can't blame him for the distress.

He's practically snarling to himself by the time they reach the border, his tail thrashing noticeably beneath his layers, and Rilla's stomach gives a sympathetic twist as Damien carefully, carefully helps Arum lower himself from the saddle.

"Okay," Rilla says. "Obviously this is… less than ideal."

"An understatement, Amaryllis. Look at- look at this! What- what could it possibly-" he gestures sharply towards the wall, then hisses in pain and draws the limb back to himself.

Damien makes a worried noise, an arm still supporting the monster as he fidgets, growling low, and then he eyes the wall with a considering look. "Hm. Perhaps I will close the borders entirely," Damien murmurs, and Rilla doesn't understand his words or his tone until he looks to Arum again. "I think you said that, when I asked what you intended to do when you returned home. It seems that others had similar thoughts, in your absence, Lord Arum."

Arum scoffs, then gently pushes himself from Damien's grip, standing straighter on his own, stiff and strained. "Foolishness. Ridiculous," he mutters as he starts to pull the layers off, unwinding scarves from his neck. "All this will do is draw undue attention-"

The sound of wings above compels Damien to draw his bow instantly, and his eyes dart to the foliage above more quickly than Rilla can follow, fixing on the source, the wide wingspan and gleaming threat of talons as they descend, and Damien's stance tightens, drawing the string more taut-

"Wait- stop-"

At Arum's choking cry Damien's poise falters, his aim going wide, the arrow finding purchase in the wicker wall instead of the quickly dropping- thing-

Arum tears the hood from his head, tears the last of the layers off beside his cape, his frill flaring and a grin curving his mouth, and he makes a strange warbling call, clear and loud and near to birdsong, and the wings above startle, fluttering sharp, and then there is an answering cry before the shape descends even faster.

"Arum-"

"Lord A-"

Arum nearly falls as the feathered shape collides with him, but he is laughing, now, as he makes more of those strange noises, and Rilla finally manages to parse exactly what the hell just happened, because there is an enormous heron shuffling from one taloned foot to the other on top of Arum's shoulders, shoving its beaked face into Arum's horns and squawking in a way that sounds both irritable and excited.

"Yes- foolish thing," Arum breaks into another laugh, and then into another strange warble as he lifts a hand to gently push the beaked face from pecking at the edge of his frill. "Obviously. Of course I did. Of course I did, you little- did you doubt? No-" he trills again, bright, and the heron ruffles up and makes a chuffing noise. "Of course I did," Arum says again, gentler, tapping the bird softly beneath the beak, and then he seems to remember Rilla and Damien, still watching.

Rilla's breathing hasn't entirely slowed from the shock, yet, but she's smiling now as she watches him, and Damien has come close beside her, stowing his bow again and pressing a hand over his mouth to bury his own smile, and Arum's frill ruffles by his neck at their observation.

"Er-"

"A friend?" Rilla asks, an eyebrow raising.

"One of my- my subjects, I suppose you could say," Arum murmurs, and he can't seem to help the smile as the bird presses its head into his horns again, trilling sternly. "Yes, I know. Hush." He gives the bird an equally stern look despite the laugh he gives, and then he lifts an arm for the creature to step to. "I know," he says quietly. "But you are frightening the horse, and I would rather not be kicked, little creature. I am nearly mended once, I would not like to suffer recovery a second time. Find your flock, spread the word if you must."

The bird squawks irritably, aiming its beak towards the humans for a moment before it turns back to Arum and flaps its wings at him.

"I said find your flock," he says in a low, fond growl. "Go on, you ridiculous thing. You need not worry for me. Go on."

The bird shifts from foot to foot on Arum's arm, chattering lightly, and then it pecks at the tip of Arum's snout and flaps before it lifts off, flying back up into the canopy again, singing something loud and joyous as it goes.

Arum sighs, his shoulders sagging as the weight of the creature is gone from him, but he clearly can't bury his smile. Damien takes Rilla's hand, and then they both come close to Arum, and Rilla lifts her other hand to touch the monster's elbow.

"Seemed excited to see you," she says, her tone only barely teasing, and his smile is so entirely warm, and Rilla and Damien's hands tighten together, each squeezing at the same moment.

"Yes, well," he makes a rattling noise low in his chest, still smiling. "I imagine they will all be quite ready for the swamp to return to normal."

"What do we do, then, about the wall?" Damien asks, gently, and Arum's smile flickers off.

He frowns, eyeing the woven greenery, and then he grumbles, "Bring me closer. It should still answer… it should still… still be able to hear."

Rilla doesn't exactly understand what that means, but- she figures he knows what to do in this situation better than she does, anyway, so she helps him. After a step or two Damien steps up on his other side, supporting him further.

"Thank you," Arum murmurs when they are close enough, and then he very gently pulls away from their hands. He lifts his own hand, and just barely touches the tangle of foliage, and then he swallows, chest rumbling. "Keep?"

Rilla barely manages to stop herself from reaching for him again. He sounds so- so desperate, and the urge to help him is-

"Keep. Can you hear me?" He pauses, and Rilla can see that he's trying not to cringe as he runs his hand along the vines. "Keep, I'm here, I- I need you to let me in."

Nothing changes, for a long moment. Beside her, Damien reaches a hand out, gripping Rilla's hand tight again, his nerves mirroring her own.

"Keep," he says again, keening clear in his voice. "Keep, please-"

Arum stumbles back as vines burst from the ground, new and accompanied by harmonious song, overtaking the wall and forming an archway that fills with magic, with- with a door, leading somewhere quite different from the swamp they could see past the wall.

Arum chokes a breath, warbles in further harmony with the song, and on shaking legs he bolts through the archway.

The Keep winds its vines around him so quickly that he is in the air before his feet even touch the floor of his home, before he has time to even breathe a syllable. It sings bright and clear and joyful, and it slots its mind soft against his again, precisely as their minds are meant to fit, in tune again so instantly that the vines don’t even come close to accidentally brushing any of the healing wounds that might still suffer from the pressure, and Arum can’t help the way he chokes, the way his throat goes tight and his eyes go hot, because-

He has missed his Keep so, so unbearably much.

He was never meant to be away for this long. His limbs are shaking with the relief of it even as he clings to its supportive vines, as he brushes his palms over the new bursts of flowers it is gleefully blooming around him. He’s so tightly enmeshed, so thoroughly cocooned, he wouldn’t have even noticed Amaryllis and Damien following through the portal if he could not feel the precise moment the Keep notices them.

The Keep notices them, and it is filled instantly with terror.

The humans are wound tight in vines nearly as quickly as Arum himself was, though these new vines are substantially less friendly as they pin Amaryllis and Damien against the wall with a discordant trill.

Arum feels the wash of terror pulse through with confusion, fury, protectiveness, and the vines around the humans continue to tighten. Arum’s heart skips, and he scrambles, reaching a hand through the bramble around him towards his- his- whatever, precisely, they are to him.

“Stop-” he snarls, the full force of his denial pushing out into his home, compelling the Keep to pause. The vines cease tightening, though they do not release. “Don’t hurt- don’t hurt them. They did not harm me, Keep, of that I can assure you,” he says in a breathless rush. “They did not harm me. They- they-”

The Keep stills, feeling his thoughts, and the grip it has upon the humans is already loosening. Arum needs not say more; the Keep understands him. It understands, and it loves him, and he needs not say a single word more.

He will say it anyway. It is true.

“They brought me back to you,” he says, his voice ragged and too full, and the both of them stare at him as they are lowered gently back to the floor. “They brought me home.”

[->]

#elle's fanfic #scattered on my shore #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #sir damien #YELLIN AND YELLING I BEG U TO TELL ME FEEDBACK

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stormobsessed · 6 years ago

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Part 2 of Kalidin Vs. The Blackthorn.

Imagine a world where Kaladin was born a little earlier, or Dalinar and Gavilar started their uniting of Alethkar later. They’re going through the country, destroying villages to weaken resolve.

In this dangerous time, all boys old enough are taught to fight, even the son of a pacifist surgeon, in the hopes that it would add even a few seconds onto their lives.

Sadeas is promised the small farming town of Hearthstone once they capture it, which they don’t expect to be hard at all when none of the men there are anything more than simple farmers and townfolk. However, to Blackthorn’s surprise, there is a commotion on one side of the battle. He pushes through the fighting men to see a young lad, barely old enough to fight, mowing down men like a master of the spear. The young lad is dispatching dozens of his own, highly trained, men. He is standing over the corpse of an even younger boy, and tears are streaming down his face but still he fights, swift as the wind.

So, what started out as a simple plot divergence AU post transformed into an increbly long fic that has become increasingly annoying to scroll through and past, so I decided to start a separate part 2, but no fear! You can find all of part one here: Part 1 Tumblr

or read it on Ao3 here: Part 1 Ao3

So, this will be part 2 to keep the old post from getting any longer. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!!

The Blackthorn poured himself one last heaping mug of wine before he joined his family to meet with the radiant. His fingers itched to prepare a second, but he knew that neither Gavilar nor Evi would have approved of him pre-gaming as much as he already had, and he had no desire to distract them on such an important day. He heard the familiar sound of the tent door opening and had to fight himself not to hide his drink like he was a child attempting to sneak a cremling into the house. He turned, solemnly preparing himself for a lecture, only to come face to face not with a member of his family, but with the new Wit. This was even worse.

“Wit.” He grumbled, eyeing the strange man warily. There was just something off about the new Wit, a twinkle in his eye that said that he knew much more than he let on. It unnerved the man, and yet it was compelling as well. Storms, it seemed like each day that passed, he understood himself less. The warlord grit his teeth, anger at himself flaring in his chest. “Blackthorn,” the infuriating man said with a bow. The Warlord grumbled in reply, sinking into one of the tents low seats. He topped off his mug, refilling the bit that he’d already drank, not caring about the opinion of this fool. “I thought Gavilar had ordered you away from the feast.” The Wit blinked before making a show of looking around the sparse tent, empty but for a simple table and chairs overflowing with plans and maps, and the wine casket that Blackthorn had already dipped into. “Oh my, I can see you’re right. This is obviously the very most important area of the feast. Why look at all of these strips of paper, and but of course! The clear lack of food. How could I have been so foolish to come at what is clearly the epicenter of the festivities.” “Alright, alright. You’ve made your point.” “Well I should certainly hope so. You know, when I first took this position-“ “Two days ago.” “I was absolutely shocked at the discovery that really the most important part of being a good wit, is simply pointing out the obvious.” The Kholin snorted into his cup. “I wouldn’t call you a good wit. You reused the same insults over and over.” “Of course.” The willowy man replied, sounding affronted. “I don’t know anyone here nearly well enough to insult their character. I’m sure in time I will come to hear all of the unique types of stupidity exist in the Lighteyed court, but until then I’m not going to make something up. Why, imagine if I started to use insults that weren’t true, I would lose all credibility. However, I could know right away those that were ugly, smelly and old, and so I simply stated the obvious.” A small smirk wormed it’s way across the scarred man’s face as the Wit settled in the chair across from him. The black-clothed man seemed content to end the conversation there and pulled out a small flute. He let out a few notes then smiled, seeming pleased with himself. The Blackthorn took a long pull on his drink and closed his eyes, mentally preparing for a day of pandering and diplomacy when all he wanted to do was fight. Maybe he could get in on one of the duels. No, no, Adolin was going to try for a Blade today, he didn’t want to overshadow the boy. Suddenly, Wit spoke again. “Well if my skills as Wit has not yet impressed you, maybe my talents as a storyteller will. Hmm, something short, I suppose we are on a time constraint.” Suddenly he let out a series of trills on the flute, the sounds seemed to… echo back at him, but that wasn’t right. They were in a war tent in the middle of an empty field, sounds shouldn’t echo. Yet he had no compulsion to open his eyes, instead he simply leaned back and took another sip of drink as the sounds seemed to carry him away. The Wit’s voice grew dissonant, seeming to meld with the sound of the music that still rang through the canvas. “Ages ago, when the world was different and beings of intense power still walked the earth, there lived a very large, very kindhearted family of laborers. They worked the land day in and day out just to have the food to survive, yet they were extremely kind to their neighbors. They shared as much as they were able, and oftentimes more. One day, one of the family’s children was performing his usual chore of transferring livestock from one field to another, he spotted a figure crumpled on the ground. The child ran to the figure and found an old woman, blood crusted on her temple from an unknown injury. The child acted quickly, pulling the woman onto the back of one of his creatures and using it to haul her back to the house. The boy’s mother stayed up for days bringing the woman back to health, taking precious food off of their table. Finally the woman was well enough to walk and stand. Almost immediately she made to leave, not listening to any argument the family made to give herself time to hear. However, before she left she gave, to the child who had first found her, a clear globe of glass, similar to what men use to gamble, but several times larger.

The family was perplexed by the sphere, and the child simply gave it to his infant sister to play with. However, as is often the case in a house so full and so busy, the sphere soon got accidentally kicked under a bed in a corner, and no one stopped to recover it. The sphere was soon forgotten.

Yet the next day, had anyone cared to look, they would have noticed a small speck of red in the previously clear crystal. For the woman had not been a normal human, she had been a creature of great power, and a ruby was growing from the clear glass. The next day the speck grew even larger, the next day larger, until the entire sphere transformed into a perfectly cut gem the size of a grown man’s fist.

However, the family had never given it a never thought since the day that it had rolled under the bed. So, while untold riches grew just below their noses, they continued to scrape and save and starve, never knowing that the toy they had discarded was a gift greater than they could have imagined.”

The notes flowed, and slowly began to fade.

Dalinar opened his eyes when the last of the notes had faded completely, turning to see the black-clothed lighteyed man reclining against the chair, flute tucked away. He frowned, the story tugging at his mind. “What did that mean?”

Wit arched a brow. “What do you think it means? It is not a storytellers job to tell a man how to think, rather it is our job to give them something to think on.”

“I thought it was your job to state the obvious.” Dalinar replied, and Wit grinned.

“Sometimes, the obvious is not as clear as we would like it to be.”

Dalinar frowned at the odd wording, but he was too focused on the story to give it much thought. He mulled it over, setting aside his glass, despite the fact that it was still half full. “Change.” He finally replied. “Change only affects things, if people are able to see it.”

Wit smiled enigmatically, the expression giving nothing away. “It sounds like you have a lot to think on, Highprince Dalinar. Though, that may have to wait for another day. I believe the festival is about to start. Don’t worry, I won’t mortally offend your precious Radiant. Though, I am sure that I will enjoy the show.”

Kaladin looked over the men and women of Heathstone. They were smiling, chatting amongst one another, more animated than he’d seen them in months. Since Gavilar’s invitation and Roshone’s very public acceptance, thepeople had been in a frenzy. The women had washed and mended their threadbare clothes several times over, and the men had polished their shoes and belt buckles, as well as buffing any jewelry that their wives had saved. Laurel had even passed out her jewelry to some of the women, and allowed the younger women to use some of her extra havahs. The people seemed to have been transformed, seeming to have shorn off the tragedy of just a few weeks prior.

He wished that the facade weren’t so very fragile.

He wished that there was no woman, weeping in the corner over her son who would have loved to visit the feast, that the young woman in Laurel’s dress didn’t look into the mirror with wet eyes as she pictured what her recent groom would have thought of her. He wished that the young man in the corner wasn’t staring blankly at where the sleeve of his freshly washed shirt lay limp, his arm ending in a stub at his elbow. He wished… he wished that it was easier for him to see their joy than their pain, that he could appreciate their excitement. However any joy he could have had was lost to the pain of a town nearly halved.

He’d never been especially good at smiling through the pain. Though he supposed that tonight he would have to try. Though he believed in Adolins plan, well semi-believed it, it turned his stomach to think of sitting there playing nice at the feast, no doubt being gawked at by dozens of important lighteyes who were simply enthralled at the idea of the dark eyed radiant.

A light touch made him jump, and he whirled to see him mother smiling at him, though concern darkened her eyes. “There are storms in your eyes, the Stormfather himself would be impressed.”

“Sorry, mother, I’m just… nervous about tonight.”

Hesina cupped her son’s face in her hands. “I will not lie to you.” She said softly. “I wish that this burden was not yours. I fear it will weigh you down, make you a pack mule when you were meant to be something much greater. However, I know this without any fear or doubt, I know that you are strong enough to bear it. You have the strength of a chull but the ferocity of a whitespine. I know that this is scary, but you will succeed.”

Kaladin let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, growing strength from his mothers love and confidence, allowing it to pull him out of the void of darkness he sometimes allowed himself to get drawn into. It was so much harder to stay clear of the void when Tien was gone.

“Besides,” His mother said, and her voice had taken on a familiar, amused tint. “Remember, they are the ones courting you, not the other way around. Feel free to make them work for it.” She lightly kissed his forehead. “Now come, you should get changed. We will have to head out soon.”

Kaladin frowned, but obediently followed the woman. Roshone had reluctantly pulled one of his son Riller’s old suits out of his untouched room, and one of the town’s seamstresses had tailored it to fit Kaladin’s thinner, taller frame.

“Does everyone know what to do?” He asked. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it said one last time.

“Yes. The townspeople know better than to trust the Kholins. Everyone will be safe within the keep by the time Mishim has started to rise. Your plan with the Blackthorn’s family will not start until well after that. Everyone should be safely back here before any trouble starts.”

Kaladin nodded, relief flooded through him as he slipped into a small room to change. The majority of the town would be attending a festival with Kholin’s soldiers and army followers, while Kaladin, his family, Roshone, Laurel, Rock and Teft would go to the fancy feast Gavilar was throwing. It was hard to convince Roshone that Teft should join them, but Kaladin had managed to convince him that he was the most knowledgeable about the army and should therefore be there to consult. He’d wanted Rock there as well, but he needed someone to make sure that the rest of the town stayed safe and came back on time.

The plan was for Laurel, Teft, and Hesina to go back at the same time as the rest of the village. Roshone said he would decide later, after he’d ‘felt out the situation’, but Kaladin had no doubt that the coward would choose to go back then as well.

As Kaladin made his way back to the room Roshone had commandeered to use to discuss strategy, he consciously sucked the stormlight from any lamps down the hall. If things went poorly, he could potentially be flying 5 other people back with him. He’d been practicing that in the yard all week. A smile finally graced his lips as he remembered it, sending some of the town’s children flying, making sure to hover them a few inches off the ground, less they fall. It had taught him a great deal of control, and they had loved it. Maybe it wouldn’t go bad though, maybe they would let him just walk off with the Blackthron’s wife and kids.

Who was he kidding? This was going to be a disaster.

Gavilar listened critically as Navani read out a complete list of all of the features of the festival. It sounded marvelous, a celebration the likes of which this town certainly had never seen. It wouldn’t be enough, the Radiant was extremely stubborn, but it would be a decent first step. He would be given the chance to talk with the boy in a more one on one setting, show him what he could be missing out on. He’d had a long talk with Amaram about how much of the truth he should tell the child, but he had the feeling that now was not the time to reveal much of the truth.

Some of it, perhaps. Hint towards a greater coming danger, that would get the boy’s protective instincts flowing. That was what the Windrunners were known for, wasn’t it? Yes, he could use that.

Satisfied, both at his mental plans and the party plans that Navani read, the man looked around the room.

He frowned when his eyes lit upon his son. Elhokar was pouting again, which could only mean two things. Either he was fixating on something he could not change, or he was choosing to mope rather than fix something he could. Neither attribute was especially befitting an heir apparent.

“What is the matter son?”

“It’s not fair, everyone has something to do to help but me! Renarin and Adolin have been visiting the Radiant, you are the King, and Uncle Dalinar is your warrior. What am I supposed to do?”

The boy had a point, as poorly as he’d said it. Besides, it was partly Gavilar’s fault. The boy had been with him in the strategy tent, planning, when Dalinar’s lads had made the bravely foolish choice to approach the young darkeye. Still, Elhokar was a good son, and with some more fostering Gavilar knew he would make a fantastic king.

“I’m sorry that we haven’t spoken of this son, but you are vitally important.” Elhokar perked up, and from where she sat Navanni cast a skeptical eyebrow. “As proven by Adolin and Renarin, the Radiant has been more responsive to people his age. It is something that I should have seen earlier, but I cannot change the past. Regardless, you have the power of the throne, but will be more relatable to young Kaladin. I want you to try to befriend him as your cousins have, that will make it even easier to strategize with him when we finally win him over.”

Elhokar nodded, his face serious. Gavilar returned the nod. Well, that was one problem handled, now to find that ridiculous Wit and keep him from interfering.

That man knew far more than he should. Far more than anyone should.

Adolin rolled his shoulders and gave a few gentle squats, more getting used to the feel of the shardplate than anything else. He felt his mother’s necklace lying against his skin, and it gave him confidence somehow. He didn’t have his helm on yet, and he wouldn’t get possession of the blade he was using for the duel until a few moments before it. So now he was just waiting, along with the rest of the army and what felt like half of Kholinar, for the door of the keep to open.

There was a strange anticipation in the air, lighteyes and dark alike shifted nervously, many tired from the past few frantic days of planning two parties.

The Kholin’s stood in front of the crowd, surrounded by the royal honor guard. Weapons gleamed and Kholin blue contrasted brightly against the crem covered ground. Sadeas stood just behind them, his face violently blank and holding none of the charm that Gavilar was purposely portraying.

Dalinar frowned, seeming contemplative and a million miles away, which honestly was a relief. Honestly, their plan would work best if he was distracted.

Commotion had been steadily growing behind the doors of the keep for the past several moments, increasing the tension of the awaiting crowd. Adolin felt like the group was going to snap, and he found himself continuously running his finger along his helm, wishing he already had his blade.

Then, finally, like a bolt of lightening the Radiant appeared over the doors of the keep, hovering there and locking intense eyes with Gavilar. Adolin, who hadn’t found the man especially intimidating when they’d been face to face, felt himself shiver at the figure he made now. The man made a sharp, unique gesture, like making a salute by crossing his arms, and the doors swung open.

A lighteyed man, the towns brightlord most likely, stood at the front, beside a younger lighteyed girl, and an older darkeyed couple. Behind them stood the rest of the town, all standing tall with their heads held high.

The Lighteyed man walked straight to Gavilar, Kaladin swooping down to land beside them. Gavilar greeted the man solemnly, but pleasantly. “Brightlord Roshone, I presume.”

“That right.” The man said, sniffing as though attempted to pretend that he was superior to the king of Alethkar. Adolin matched eyes with Kaladin and, since unlike the Radiant no one was looking at him, rolled his eyes. Kaladin’s lips pressed together as though he were attempting to stave off amusement.

Gavilar nodded, managing to keep his eye on the Lighteyed man rather than the Radiant he actually respected. “We will have much to talk about, but first,” He made a sweeping gesture. “I hope you’ll enjoy the festivities, you and your people.”

That seemed to break a dam, and suddenly figures were streaming out of the thin door of the keep, their excitement almost palpable as they made their way to the festival grounds that had been set up. It was only then that Gavilar turned to the Radiatnt. The king surprised Adolin by offering a shallow bow to the Radiant. It wasn’t a full, proper bow, but it was a very clear show of respect. Kalading gave a nod in reply, though he didn’t bow. Gavilar seemed to have expected that, and was almost immediately working to make a good impression on the lighteyes and the solemn darkeyed couple that Adolin recognized as Kaladin’s parents from the portrait he and Renarin had found.

Adolin however, made his way to the Radiant, along with Renarin. Elhokar was following closely as well, and Adolin could only hope that Kaladin was smart enough not to mention their plans with the prince hovering so close.

Kaladin eyed Adolin’s plate, bulky and gorgeous and painted a striking Kholin blue. Adolin grinned, “Its for my duel. I’m going to win a shardblade!”

Kaladin opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly his eyes shot to the side, staring at something that Adolin couldn’t see. The teen whispered something to the Spren, too low for Adolin to catch. The smile wiped off of Adolin’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

Kaladin shook his head. “Syl doesn’t like the blades.”

“Syl? What’s a Sy?” Elhokar’s voice piped up, ad immediately Kaladin’s eyes narrowed on the prince, sizing up the stranger.

“Syl is my Spren. And you are?”

“I am Elhokar Kholin, the son of Gavilar and the heir to the throne.” Elokhar said proudly, and Adolin had to hide a wince. Elhokar couldn’t know, but that was porobably one of the worst ways he could have introduced himself to the powerful darkeyes.

“Oh.” Kaladin replied, dismissive. Adolin’s cousin seemed stunned for a moment before indignation and anger flasheded across his face. He puffed himself up and began to say something, but luckily Renarin cut in before he could.

“Shall we make our way to the dueling grounds? We can watch some of the eariler bouts and explain the rules while we wait for it to be Adolin’s turn.”

Kaladin was still eyeing Elhokar uncertainly, but he nodded and all four of them turned towards towards the town.

It was hard to find room sufficient to hold a dueling ground in the nice part of town where they were holding the lighteyed feast, so they’d ended up using it as part of the divider between it and the common festival. Adolin… kind of liked it. They had gathered a crowd of darkeyes, from Hearthstone and the soldiers alike. Each bout had a soundtracks of cheers and screams that were absent in the traditional, formal, solemn bouts that Adolin was used to. He loved it, more than he would have thought.

He grinned at the crowd. In the Lighteye seating area the Kholin’s held the seats of honor. Gavilar was smiling and chatting with Roshone, but Dalinar and Evi were smiling over at him encouragingly. Adolin couldn’t keep the grin from his face. He was going to win his very own blade, and his dad was actually going to be there to see it.

Renarin followed his eyes and smiled softly. “Are you ready?”

“Yup, I even have a good luck charm, Mom gave me her necklace.”

“Did you eat Chicken for lunch?”

The grin slipped off of Adolin’s face. Did he? He’d had to eat quickly to help organize the stands for the Darkeyed festival, but he’d had… pork. His eyes widened and he whirled on Renarin. Eating chicken was the only pre-duel tradition that he held, and he wasn’t about to break it before what would probably be the most important duels of his life.

Renarin understood instantly. “I-I’ll go find something.” Kaladin startled at that, tearing his eyes from the stands where he’d been watching his visibly uncomfortable parents. Lirin, who so staunchly disapproved of violence, whas clearly not enjoying this game of brutality. However, Renarin’s sudden disappearance was enough to draw the radiant’s attention. .

“Really? Chicken?”

“Traditions are important.” Elhokar interrupted. “I myself have several that I perform before every duel.”

Kaladin eyed him. The Radiant was clearly unsure how to take the older man. Adolin could understand. He loved his cousin, but he didn’t always make a great first impression. “Like what?” The Radiant asked hesitantly, and Adolin got the impression that the teen was trying, in his own way.

Elhokar began detailing some of his usual traditions, fairly similar to Adolin’s own, then quickly changed to begin telling the man stories of the oddest traditions he’d heard of, which ranged from odd to ridiculous. By the time Renarin retured, Kaladin almost looked amused.

Panting, Renarin shoved… something wrapped in paper in Adolin’s hand. “It was all I could find nearby. Most of the stands near here are only selling snacks or sweets.”

Kaladin wrinkled his nose. “What is it?”

“It’s chicken, uh, I think they called it Chouta.” He shrugged. “That Herdazian stand was selling it, it seemed popular so it must be decent.”

Adolin looked over the way his brother had pointed, quickly locating a busy stand selling items that looked similar to what he’d handed him. The stand was stuffed with four Herdazian men working to make and hand out the Chouta, and… did one of them only have one arm?

Adolin shook himself and forced himself to take a bite before he could talk himself out of it. Immediately after taking a bite, the young man perked up.

“Hey, this is actually really good!” He took another bite and hummed appreciatively, ignoring Kaladin’s frankly disbelieving expression. Adolin shrugged, but was distracted when a ‘boo’ sounded throughout the crowd and Elhokar cried “Foul!”

“What happened?” Kaladin asked, and Elhokar grinned from cheek to cheek as he began explaining.

Adolin closed his eyes and took several long, deep breaths, centering himself. It would be his turn in three bouts, then he would be a shardbearer.

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