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musedblues · 5 years

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Hello Again

Part 1 of (maybe 2?)

W/C: 8k

Summary: Gwilym has always been around, somewhere in the background of your fast-moving life. But when summer comes along, you finally slow down enough to take a closer look.

Warnings: Allusion to/ Mentions of alcoholism? Nothing too horrific!

A/N: I’m writing again! Rather, finally getting around to uploading things I’ve had written for ages. There will be a second part to this in the very near future! Please enjoy my hopeless fantasizing, gang! (and don’t be afraid to let me know if you do!) _

You had nearly forgotten all about your past twenty-three years of living, on your rampage through the American desert: and that was your mission... To focus on nothing besides soaking up every the last ray of the blistering hot sun before summer vacation was over, and you had to start senior year of college. You were a history major and initially had big dreams of becoming a librarian or a museum director, so that you could enjoy immense hushed quiet all day before going out with your best girlfriends at night.

You loved to take it easy, especially after a night of partying so hard. You and your friends had established yourselves as the college's most wild group up until earlier this year when you nearly KO'd after staying in the hospital for a month due to alcohol poisoning. You took the school year slow, and when summer came, you piled your three closest friends and took off on a stereotypical road trip. Good, clean fun.

When you weren't driving, your trip was mainly spent poolside, humming along to the static radio Francine toted along with her everywhere. The battery-powered thing would even work in the car sometimes, which came in handy as your vintage mustang wasn't equipped with a port for an aux cord or a radio that worked any longer.

Francine spread her gangly legs across Emma's lap in the back while Tilly sat in your passenger seat, flexing her map reading muscle on a mission to be totally directionally literate by the end of the road trip across the southwest. But then your car broke down forty miles deep into death valley and you all had to cram your belongings and yourselves into the back of a cab. Other friends might not have survived being squished together like sardines. But you made it to the Vegas airport without a foul word between the bunch of you.

Granted, Emma started to cry because the cab smelt of ham and Tilly's beloved map blew across the sandy horizon as you sat on the roadside, waiting to be rescued. You all relied on each other to keep a cool head, like always.

Your three roommates were sometimes too much to handle at once, but over the past three years of college and dates and sickness and flunked classes, you'd be lost without your best friends.

Once you all got back home to California with a bundle of stories to tell and a lot of left over time to fill up, the only thing to do was crash.

Luckily, your brother's fancy new home was the closest and coolest stop. So you decided to take over his pool house like you were still on some kind of adventure.

"How's your brother so well off? And is he well off.. in other areas?" Francine pipped up. She blew away some of her frizzy strands of hair that made her seem like the coolest hippie alive, with a name to match. Her boldness never faltered in style or speak.

"Hm, strange I've suddenly lost my hearing." You quipped, grossed out by the thought of your brother being lusted after.

"Just don't bother him, okay? I'm welcome in the pool house without question so none of you are allowed to mess this up for us!" You informed. Your brother, Daniel, bought the house earlier in the year sometime when a film project he was apart of paid off pretty well. You'd forgotten anything to do with his big winnings in your previously alcoholic state.

"Oh, just go shower! We're gonna search through the movie cabinet and bask in the glow of this projector." Emma beamed.

The pool house was a studio with a tiny square marble kitchen, a living room complete with a bunch over oversized beanbags, and two twin beds hidden in the sunken pit lounge area. The space was designed in the '70s and the golden shag carpet still remained to prove it. This was the faux frat house your brother escaped to when the fancy chandelier in his adjacent home shone a little too brightly for his liking. The best part of the pool house was the film projector and the massive pull-down screen, like a tiny personal movie theater. Though your brother was a bigger fan of dated television series', a few classic films found their way into his collection on the wall-length shelf.

You left the hip space to take a breather in the grey tiled bathroom, taking your time washing off the sheen of dust and sweat your road trip disaster left you in. When you returned to the living room to take Emma's place on the sofa while she scampered to the shower, the girls had popped in some movie of their liking.

"Top End Wedding. I've never heard of it." Tilly called from the floor, crawling around to put the disc in the player. She had already placed the cover back into its rightful spot on the shelf.

"What's that even mean?" Francine wondered, snuggling under a furry blanket.

"Shut up and find out like the rest of us." Tilly offered, plopping back against a florescent bean bag.

You chuckled as the movie started, but turned your attention your cell phone after it started too buzz. There was an email from the death valley mechanic addressing the problems he had to fix in order to get your car running again. You typed back a response in a hurry. When your friend's giggles cut through your focus, you clicked your phone off and turned your attention back to the film.

You'd completely missed the first scene, catching only glimpses of lush green islands and a lady with a broken high heeled shoe. But then a familiar voice spoke up.

"I have to take her to court?" Gwilym Lee was on the screen. Of course, he was. He appeared unmistakably himself... but much different from the last time you recalled seeing the man.

You silently chuckled to yourself, wondering whatever became of your brother's best friend. After Daniel and Gwilym finished grad school together, Gwilym was apparently apart of a few major British productions and a well off guy. But between your focus on college and some extra wild nights out, you'd barely seen your brother outside of holiday celebrations. So Gwyilm was hardly ever brought up in conversation. Or maybe he was, and you were just too maxed out to register. Be that as it may, the blue-eyed man was on the screen now... looking rather grown-up.

"My God he's a catch am I right?" Tilly pipped up, sipping vodka she'd found in the mini-fridge. Did she really think so? Dear old Gwilym?

"Look at him! That actress is so tiny next to him, God. Imagine being pinned between him and a wall." Francine swooned, in her usual lovestruck wonder.

And the intrusive thought was frightening to you. Because it seemed almost appealing. Gwilym hugged you goodbye once, some odd years ago. His strong arms were certainly brought a comfort you could still recollect.

"Confirmation that we're all hot for this Ned character?" Tilly turned her pretty feathery head of hair to you. You were busy bitting your thumbnail and wondering when Gwilym had gotten so buff.

"Huh? Oh yeah, Ned's cool." You nodded emptily.

"Pfft!" Francine spat, sitting up and leaning across a pillow toward you. "Get your head out of your car troubles and look at this fine British hunk!"

"I thought this was an Austrian film?" Tilly wondered.

"He's clearly British! Listen up! Haven't you paid attention during the world's fair week?" Francine rang, lifting her own glass of vodka toward the screen.

Your phone buzzed again and you desperately hoped it was the man who would assure your car was liable and you could pick it up and drive it through the desert some more before summer vacation ended. But instead, your brother's name blinked across your dim screen.

Daniel: Are you in the pool house? Come inside for a second. Leave the sorority behind. (No offense)

"I'll be right back. Pools open! Just don't come in the house!" You called out the rules your brother gave you the first time you stayed here. Your friends groaned. You scurried out the window paneled door and across the stone packed pathway to Daniel's deck. The back porch light was on and its reflection glistened off the pool. Was he going to be pissed that you remembered where he hid the spare key and tell your gang to leave? Did he just want to say hello? If he did, why wouldn't he just come out to greet you?

You knocked a couple of times to warn of your requested intrusion. The kitchen was empty and dark but there was a chatter coming from the living room. Your brother must have had company. Why did you need to come in here?

That's when Vinny and Violet came bounding up the basement staircase toward you in a fluffy flurry. They were sibling Burmese Mountain dogs whose nails were clicking against the cherry wood floor as they pranced below your feet; a very excitable greeting.

"Y/N? Come in here!" Daniel's low timbre was heard in from the living room and the sound of clinking glasses followed. Your brother Daniel was standing from his luxurious leather sofa, smiling and gesturing you into the room. On the other side of the sofa was a man you hadn't seen in years, but had just been reminded of only moments ago.

"Gwil is in town! I thought I heard you outside and we were just talking about you."

Oh my God. He was hot. You tried to stifle your shock at the stone-carved beauty of a brother's best friend that rose to his feet before you.

"Hello, again Y/N! Looking very comfortable." Gwil's voice was silky and wonderfully British. The accent would always catch you off guard. But his enchanting voice only reminded you how silly you must have looked in your sad excuse for pajamas. You wore tattered sweat pants and a torn-up tshirt that bared too much of your collar bone to be deemed appropriate.

And the angelic Gwilym was in well-fitted slacks and a dress shirt, blue eyes glimmering, muscles rippling past his perfect clothes.

"Hi, Gwil!" You chimed, really mustering the strength to sound normal. But what was normal between the pair of you? You'd met him a total of three times.

"Why are you all the way over in this part of town?" Daniel wondered, shifting his weight and glancing at you.

"My car broke down in death valley and your place was closest. Hope it's alright if we crash for the night?"

"I left the pool house key out for a reason! It's never a bother. I like that you're comfortable enough to stay. Roxanne never even comes over." Daniel complained about your middle sister. Roxanne was an unassuming girl with an interest in botany that left her camped out in national parks for weeks at a time. Your sister would talk about plants little to nothing else, besides her terrible crush on Gwilym Lee. A shameless attraction you'd all too suddenly understood.

"How's she?" Gwilym asked with a knowing smile. She could never hide the way she melted in Gwil's presence.

"She's been the movies this year, if that's what you're asking." Daniel chortled. You wondered for a moment if the film your friends had found in the cabinet was one that made it to theaters. Was Gwilym finally featured on the big screen? And did Roxanne really still have that girlish crush?

"She's been seeing a lot of that Max guy, actually. I know because she does, in fact, call me every weekend." You chided, looking to Daniel with a smile.

"Yeah to make sure you're not dead." Daniel retorted. He was never a fan of your wild streak. Bless him. "She's always up to something crazy. Practically Instagram famous." Daniel buffed your confidence, gushing over his very own kid sister.

"I have a few thousand followers, it's really not uncommon." You assured your brother, who'd never gotten more than twelve likes on his own posts.

"Cute." Gwilym smiled. He looked you up and down and if you weren't sporting the world's nastiest pajamas. You'd dare to wonder if he liked what he saw.

"Well I better get back were-" You caught your breath and tore your curious gaze away from your brother's best friend. "...having quite the girls night."

Daniel nodded in response.

"You staying for a while? See you around?" You asked Gwilym. You were a naturally curious girl, and Gwilym Lee was extremely easy on the eyes. Why wouldn't you want to look a little longer?

"Yeah, I'll be in town. See ya around, kid." Gwilym's perfect smile was photograph worthy. But that remark stung. You were just Daniel's littlest sister, to Gwilym.

Later that evening you excused your bout of absence with some white lie about your brother needing help with his dogs after a bath.

The death valley mechanic eventually emailed you with good news, so you text your brother and asked if he could take you through the desert on a mission to get your car back. He happily agreed to take you and to let the girls take over the pool house for the day.

///

Your eyes fluttered open, blinded by the sharp white rays of sun boomeranging off the pool and into the window by your bed. Emma was passed out on the adjacent bed, snoring peacefully. There were more shuffles and chatter from the level above you and you knew the other girls were awake. You heard muted squeals and high pitched whispers floating through the pool house, and among them, a lower voice grumbled.

"Y/N! Ned's here!" Francine's unmistakably excited voice rang out.

"Oh, lovely!" You heard Gwilym let out a far off chortle.

Shit. What! Why? You bolted out of the twin bed and up the couple of steps, feet flying over the inexplicable shag carpet toward the double doors.

Gwilym was dressed for the day, in khaki shorts, a white short-sleeved button-up, and turtle framed glasses hiding the sparkle of his sea-blue eyes. And he was standing in the doorway with that stupid smirk, looking right at you.

"Gwil! Hi?" You reasoned, shouldering past Francine who was clutching the open door frame with her jaw hovering just above the floor.

"I texted you a bunch- but I see you were still asleep." Gwilym grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Is everything alright?" You wondered suddenly. You didn't even care that your hair was sticking in different directions, and the man had already seen your atrocious excuse for pajamas.

"Well, Dan got called into work. Left in a big hurry and asked if I'd help you out today. Fancy a lift? He took his SUV. Left the Buick." Gwil actually smirked, like he was making a sweet deal.

That's when Emma let out a gasp from somewhere behind you. She'd spent the first half of Top End Wedding in the shower, but quickly joined your friends to gush over the main character upon her joining the film

Gwilym's eyes left yours for a moment to glance over your shoulder to the house full of girls.

"Uh... alright." You gave a nervous grin, realizing you didn't really have another option. Daniel trusted Gwilym with his vehicle. If he caught one of your college friends behind the wheel of his car, he'd blow a gasket for certain.

"Uh, give me a minute to get my self together?" You nodded to Gwilym. The pair of you had never really spent any kind of quality time with each other. Only sat beside each other during dinners out with your brother's friends and across the living room sharing jokes. This was very different. Did you trust Gwil?

"Sure. I'll wait here if you lot don't mind." Gwil turned his bright gaze to Francine who's chipped nails were still digging into the open door. The girl gave a subtle nod, watching Gwil creep toward the kitchen counter.

"What the hell is going on?" Tilly laughed as you gestured past her.

"Secrets out! Gwil is a family friend. Please don't freak him out." You groaned, scooting to the bathroom. Tilly gapped at you as you spun into the bathroom to pull yourself together.

After finding an old Sargent Pepper tshirt in your bag and managing your hair into a suitable fashion, you hurried back out of the bathroom to hit the road; praying that your friends hadn't corned Gwilym.

The girls were scattered around the kitchen, leaning against counters with their eyes plastered on Gwil. He was like a wonder of the world. An uncovered treasure splayed out in the open.

You had spotted your sandals by the counter and were stepping into them as Tilly asked daft questions to Gwilym about how he knew me, and just exactly how rich he was. The man answered Tilly with grace and caution. Was he really so easy-going? After apologizing profusely and shooting daggers to your girlfriends it was time to go.

"You can use the pool and the dogs will probably hang out. Francine, you're in charge of disaster prevention!" You pointed your way out of the door, as Gwilym followed with a chuckle. Funnily enough, the brash girl was the clearest head in times of trouble.

Gwilym shuffled toward the garage and as you passed into the musty room, feeling a little sick to your stomach.

"Gwil, are you sure this is how you want to spend your day? I don't want to ask too much of you."

"Oh get in the car. I haven't got a thing to do until Dan gets back tonight. There's no harm in a little road trip, is there?"

"Three hours one way. This is your last chance to back out."

Gwilym was already behind the wheel, buckling his seat belt with a smile. You had no choice but to shrug and scramble in the passenger. At least this ride had a radio.

Five minutes in.

"Where's my turn?" Gwilym panicked, steering the wheel sharply to swerve out of the way of roadkill.

"Next exit. When did you learn to drive in the States? Yesterday?" He was almost too quick to react.

"Ha. Ha." Gwilym produced a dry laugh, speeding up ever so slightly. "Last year. A couple of mates and I spent the summer driving around this very desert, I'll have you know."

"Hmm, I see." You smiled as you tried to picture Gwilym going on some great adventure. As far as you knew, his work was his life. Must be some pretty important pals to have tricked the tall man into having a little long-lasting fun. Was he always so cute when he smiled like that?

20 minutes later.

"It's too late now Gwilym. We're already on the freeway and the next exit is only a private ranch."

"But I want a soda so bad." The Englishman whined. For some reason, that surprised you. You realized you really didn't know this guy at all. But you really wanted too. So you promised Gwilym you'd track down the closest fast-food spot and started into an easy-going conversation.

"What would you be doing today if I wasn't in such desperate need?" You teased but you really wanted to know more about the man. The pretty, pretty man.

"Back home? Probably spending the day at a sports game. Having a few drinks at night. Maybe a film to wrap up the evening? That or working I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." These were things you already knew about Gwil. But you could have listened to him drone on in that delicatessen accent forever and a day.

"What about you? Still out till the odd hours? Still dating that Rodney fellow?"

You couldn't help but let a snort escape you as you turned your head toward Gwil. Had it really been so long since you'd seen him?

"I broke Rodney's heart three years ago, Gwil. I dated around for a while but it's been a busy time. I've not even had time to drink myself sick all year." You smirked. Gwil let out a shocked chuckle. He was right to do so. You used to have a little too much fun.

"No time to do anything but cram. I've not even been to the movies. What do you know about those?" You grinned. It was his dream to act. You felt a little bad for not keeping better track of the local theater. Surely Gwilym had made it to the big screen by now.

"I heard you saw a certain one last night." Gwil pipped up gently. Ah yes, Francine introduced the man at the door as 'Ned.'

"Yeah, that... We found the tape in the cupboard. Your character was a total catch by the way. Any others I've missed out on?"

Your conversation was flowing, and you felt real true ease between your brother's best friend and yourself. Whether it was circumstantial or genuine, you let yourself sink into an appreciation for the magnetic moment.

"Uh... a few," Gwilym spoke. "Do you like the Beatles?"

"Why were you cast as Mr. Harrison or something?" You giggled at Gwil's change of subject.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't a fraud." Gwilym smiled, gesturing to your Sargent Pepper shirt.

"I'm no fraud!" You assured. "I love all that old rock and roll stuff." You'd scored tickets to see Ringo Starr before college kicked off. It was the best damn day of your life.

"Good. Let's have at it then, aye?" Gwil managed to uncover an aux chord from bellow the counsel and plugged it into his phone. The man reached out and cranked the radio up to the tune of Do You Want To Know A Secret. And for just a moment as you sang along, you pretended that Gwilym knew you were singing to him.

2 hours in

You stopped at the In-n-Out one hundred miles inward. Gwyilm finally got his soda and a whole lot more. The pair of you split a giant order of fries and traded burgers when you discovered you liked each other's orders better. You both thought about splitting a shake but you convinced Gwilym to get his own. He downed the sweet treat in minutes, but yours sat beading with sweat in the cup holder now. A couple of inches of the frozen drink rippled in a melted puddle as the Buick crept toward a gas station.

Gwilym stood in the heat to fill the car as you disposed of the collection of fast-food trash.

"Should I get more snacks?" You called out to Gwil from across the otherwise empty lot.

"Why don't we just agree to a nice dinner on the way home?" He shouted back. It sounded like a joke but you knew it wasn't. You went on to purchase some sunflower seeds anyway because you'd want to stash some in your car.

"Don't act like you don't want some of these." You prodded Gwils ribs as you both settled back into your brother's car. He shook his head with a grin as you tore open the packet of sunflower seeds.

"You're unbelievable. I guess I'll have a few." Gwil reached a hand out after revving the engine.

"Alright. How much was gas, while we're at it?" You gave the bag of seeds to Gwilym as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

"It's none of your business. My treat, really. Thank you for sharing." Gwil laid the bag of seeds to rest in your lap as he turned the wheel out of the gas station.

"I'll let you have that one but I'll get you back when you least expect it." You grumbled, snatching the seeds for your own again.

"Let's get back to your opinion on American football. We've got a lot to dissect here." Gwilym smirked, hands lose on the wheel, tires steady on the road. He was getting the hang of this yet!

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." It was the unsexiest innuendo of all time, but with gentle prodding, Gwil had begun to easily open up to you.

///

The car dealership was just outside Vegas and your beloved mustang was roasting in the hot sun, ready to be driven back to safer grounds.

You practically fell to your knees before the mechanic who ordered special parts and offered you a discount for all your troubles.

"Just follow behind, I know the way back." You smiled to Gwilym, admiring the way the soft breeze tousled his hair. "Thanks again for this." He was really a good sport.

You had settled into your old mustang, fingers fitting into the worn-out divots in the steering wheel. But you cursed when you reached for the radio. You had really been pampered all day, in your brothers Buick, with groovy tunes and a whole lot of eye candy.

That's when your phone rang. It was Gwilym.

The desert road was wide open, but you still decided to put the call on speaker and rest the phone on your dash.

"Hello?" You laughed, checking your rearview mirror. Gwil drove your brothers Buick a safe distance behind. You swore you could see Gwilym's bright white teeth as he responded.

"Hello! I've just realized that I promised to take to dinner, but I can't very well do that with you leading the way."

"Oh, that's what this is about?" You snorted, eyeing the mountains across the horizon.

"Where shall we go?" His voice crackled from your dashboard.

"There's an exit in about forty minutes with a few suitable options. Nothing movie star worthy though." You clicked your tongue, wondering if this was all some fever dream brought on by the ninety-degree day.

"Oh stop it. Is there an IHop? I love IHop."

"You do?" You chuckled. Gwilym hummed with certainty.

"Alright." You spoke up, glancing in the rearview once more. Was he looking? "I'm sure we can track one down."

"Thanks, kid." There it was again, that pesky pet name. You didn't like it at all.

"Am I liable to call you old man?" You jabbed, making your feelings known in a light-hearted manner.

"Whoa now, I'll hang up and leave you alone with your broken radio." Gwil threatened. He remembered your telling him your radio was broken? You glanced in the rearview once more and noticed Gwilym holding up his middle finger.

"Hey!" You laughed.

"Eyes on the road!" Gwilym challenged. There were, in fact, shiny cars popcorning over the horizon.

"Alright, alright! Can you Google and drive? I'll be your eyes." You offered, driving ahead of the man.

"Hang on," Gwilym spoke. You smiled and bit your lip to withhold the burst of joy you wanted to scream out. "I've got one. I'm gonna pass you and take this adventure into my own hands if you don't mind."

You could hear Gwilym smile as his car sped up past yours in an instant.

"See ya at IHop old man!" You shouted, swiping the phone call to end before Gwilym could shout back.

Your brothers Buick zoomed past you and began to blend in with the waves of heat on the horizon. You prayed under your breath that the man leading your way wasn't just a mirage.

///

You sat across from your brother's best friend in a sticky old IHop booth while a family of six and an old married couple filled out the other corners of the restaurant. One waitress floated through the otherwise empty diner to cater to all of you as the sun set.

Gwilym ordered a tea and you warned he was going to be disappointed in the Americanized beverage. He shooed off your comment and relaxed in the booth while you sipped your coffee. You wondered how you ended up here, then you wondered how Gwilym ended up here.

"Have you really just come to town for my brother's silly party?" You suddenly quizzed. Dan threw what he called a "mixer" once every year, where all the friends he'd ever known were invited to drink bourbon and pretend it was fun being an adult. This year was a bit of a house warming party, and your whole family was invited.

"Sort of. I wanted to see him anyway and some other friends around LA." Gwilym offered, resting his head on the heel of his hand while he gazed at you.

"I see, I forgot you were a big rom-com star now." You chuckled. Of course, he was in Hollywood to mingle with other bright eyed up and comers.

But Gwilym just rolled his eyes and smiled as the waitress floated by to fill up your coffee cup.

"The last time I saw you was Easter in 2015, do you remember that?" Gwilym sat up a little, twirling his finger around the rim of his mug of tea. You tried really hard not to notice.

"I'm surprised you do. I was late to brunch and you left not long after I showed up." You recalled. That was when he hugged you goodbye, as he was leaving and you were just joining the rest of your family. He lingered around the dining table to finish some conversation with your father, but you don't remember him leaving.

"'Course I remember. You poured something from a flask into your coffee when your mum wasn't looking." Gwil gestured toward your warm cup and you winced in remembrance.

"Those were the days, huh?" You furrowed your brow even though you smiled, a little sick at the thought of drinking anything.

"They aren't anymore?" Gwil seemed to gently pry, and you weren't about to lie to him.

"No, I learned my lesson in the hospital." You shrugged, hoping to never stay that long on an IV drip ever again.

"What?" Gwilym asked. He seemed genuinely concerned and you hadn't realized he didn't know. Dan would usually warn anyone to keep an eye out on you in case you keeled over like you always used to morning noon and night.

"Yeah, I drank myself silly." You laughed, but it wasn't silly at all. That month was shit. "I haven't drank since January."

"Christ." Gwil shot his wide eyes toward you.

"It's a good thing! I like coffee much more, anyway."

"Than this," Gwil gestured around the eatery, "was the perfect choice."

Gwilym's smile was ultraviolet. You admired him in a way you might have anyone else, but the longer you took in his features, they became prettier by the second. You caught yourself staring, but that was usually the case. What caught you further off guard was the way Gwilym seemed to be just as in tune to your conversation as you were. LIke he really wanted to right here, in the middle of nowhere, with his best friend's kid sister.

He was too good to be true. Why had it taken you so long to realize?

///

That same night, you drove your friends back to your flat to the tune of their incessant teasing. You guessed you'd be shocked if Colin Firth showed up to crash your spontaneous slumber party, after watching Love Actually. So, you couldn't blame them, but you could block them out. You found your mind wandering to the weekend. You found yourself thinking of Gwilym.

Your brother's annual gala was three days later. Your parents swung by your flat and gave you a lift all the way across one town to the next so you could all attend your brother's first party in his new home.

You wore torn up mom jeans and a decent blouse, unbothered by most of the guests sporting their finest black-tie looks, like this was the waiting block for Mad Men auditions or something. Everyone was drinking and the smell alone made your blood curdle. You slinked through plastic Hollywood types and decided you didn't need to drink to have fun, or waste your time mingling.

You wound up in the posh den, in a leather recliner, directing your brother's dogs to do tricks. You got Vinny to start barking at his reflection in the flat screen tv , much to the annoyance of the passing guests. But someone was charmed by your antics. Gwyilm leaned against the door frame with a now-familiar smile.

"Vinny, look!" You pointed to the flatscreen while the giant dog spun around to start whining. Gwilym laughed at you, and you whipped your head to find him watching on, drink in hand.

"Are you having a good time?" Gwilym comically quizzed, scooting further into the room. He sat on the arm of the chair you occupied, holding his glass between his legs. You looked up at the British hunk and smiled.

"We are. Violet just learned to shake hands!" You quipped. The dog bounced over at the sound of her name and sat in front of you, ready to show off her new skills.

"Nice to meet you, lady." You teased, holding your palm in front of your brother's dog. Violet raised her paw into your hand and you smiled as you shook it.

"Well before we call the circus and send you off, you better say goodbye to your family. Your mum's been looking for you." Gwilym laughed, shaking his head as he sipped something dark.

God, how embarrassing. Did she send him to find you? Did she think you were passed out in the bushes or worse? With a pursed smile you stood and left the den to find your mother lounging in the living room with a few other, older guests.

"Oh, this is my youngest, Y/N. A very bright girl." Your mother gushed, grabbing on to your writs and pulling you toward the sofa as some middle-aged blonde lady smiled widely at you. Her name was Dawn and she was busy trying to one-up your mother in housewife points. You just gave a fake grin and spun around to find your father asking about your car troubles.

"It's all fixed and fine now." You assured. Dan appeared on the scene, boasting about how his friend Gwilym was kind enough to take you on that trip. Gwil was sitting back on the sofa, smiling at your father as Dan boosted his ego. But he deserved the praise.

"Gwil practically saved my life!" You pointed, spinning toward where the man was settled onto the love seat. In your classic dramatic flare, you flung yourself into Gwilym's lap without thinking. The time you'd spent with the man had stripped away the layer if unfamiliarity between the two of you. And you would have plopped into anyone of your friend's laps. You made sure to bring your hand to your forehead to ensure your swooning was just for show. Even if you happened to feel a swoop of endearment at the prospect of being so close to Gwil. He was stunning. And his fingers were cautiously hovering around you, as if he wanted to hold you but knew better. And as you scooted out of the man's lap toward the cushion beside him, you swore you saw a hunger in his sea-blue eyes.

"Alright, leave the acting to him, you're no good." Daniel batted your hair on his way across the room at the sound of his name being called.

Moments after you peeled yourself off of Gwilym Lee's lap, your sister showed up. You hadn't seen Roxanne in what felt like ages. On her arm, an unassuming botanist called Max, who seemed to be totally head over heels for your older sister. Boy was he in for a treat.

"Hello, Roxy." Gwilym smiled, resting his glass on the coffee table as he stood to greet your sister. And just like that, the usually demure girl practically melted. You couldn't blame her, not anymore. Not after you caught a glimpse at how warm Gwil's smile really was.

"This, uh, this is Max." Roxanne shoved her boyfriend between herself and Gwilym, a human shield. The equally as meek fellow seemed to look up to Gwilym with wonder in his eye. You realized that no one was safe from doing a double-take. Gwilym was just that great.

The party fizzled out. Before the last guests even left, Roxanne kissed her beau and skipped out to the pool house with you, deciding to spend the night for some much-needed one on one time. You stole some of Daniel's sweatshirts and snacks from your brother's home and locked yourselves into the private little hut in his back yard.

After nearly a full hour of listening to your sister gush over how much she liked Max and how their relationship was taking off, Roxanne got quiet.

"I didn't realize Gwil was in town." Roxanne sheepishly admitted, reaching to the bowl of popcorn between the two of you.

"Yeah, I was surprised too." You realized. "I can't believe you still have a thing for him."

Roxanne laughed and shook her head as if that was all behind her now. But then she bit her lip and looked at you to tell her secret.

"No harm in looking, right?" She shrugged. Roxanne really did seem happy with her new boyfriend. But anyone with eyes could see Gwilym's glow and would probably long to bask in it all the same. You weren't blind to that any longer.

///

Emma and Francine were busy sitting around your apartment doing nothing, terribly bored of it all. Tilly had gone back to visit her family while the summer raged on, leaving the three of you to your own usual devices. Your brother had asked you to stay a little while longer, but he and Gwil took the dogs to a hiking trail and you got bored alone in the pool house after your sister went home. So you drove back to your flat where your roommates decided to waste away together.

"There's nothing good on tv. And I don't wanna go out. Why is nothing fun anymore?" You complained. The days of dancing the night away seemed like a waste of time to you now. There had been lots of fun last year, and the ones before. Maybe too much fun. When you weren't drinking you were asleep in someone else's bed. Casual dating turned into some kind of game. And it all started when Francine challenged you to get with as many people as you could take a shot for. And naturally, you were down to take the drinking challenge, but you took way too many shots that night. And you started zipping through one night stands like it was your job and you needed extra rent. You felt nothing, numbed by so many drinks. And near the end of your manic episode, you thought that maybe the more people you shagged, you'd eventually feel for one of them. But that never happened. Even when you brought some of them home and tried to mold them into a little perfect box.

You had a lot of time to reevaluate in the hospital. You hoped with your new lease on life that meaning would seep back through your cracks. But sitting around your old dusty apartment bored you. Wasn't there any balance anymore? Your phone buzzed you out of deep thought.

Gwil: How'd you get Violet to shake your hand? She won't listen to me or Dan!

You: I'm a dog whisperer. ;)

"We could do arts and crafts!" Emma chirped like a hopeful preschooler.

"It's too hot to think of having fun." Francine moaned, sprawled across the sofa with her upper half sliding down toward the floor.

Your phone buzzed again. Gwilym responded with the meme of the angry-looking cat sitting at the dinner table. You let out a breathy laugh that fanned through your nose. Before you could think of responding Gwilym had sent another text.

Gwil: I'll find out your secret one day.

You: Take a hike!

He should have been trekking through scenic California mountains instead of sending you memes.

"Earth to Y/N! Why are you smiling at your phone like that when we're in the middle of a boredom crisis meeting?"

"What?" You blanched. Had you really been lost in the short-lived conversation between Gwilym and yourself? He was just too good to be true. Of course, you were transfixed by the lad.

"Yeah, who are you talking to? Is Stu back from Ibiza? Are you two hooking up again?" Francine challenged, sitting up on the sofa with a knowing grin.

"God no, not Stu. He stole my underwear. That fucking creep." You shivered at the memory of your very last and longest hookup. Emma grimaced in response, but Francine, like always, wasn't satisfied.

"So who is it then?" The girl's honey-brown eyes filled with mischief as she reached for your phone.

"Why do you think it has to be anybody?" You whined, trying to lean further back before Francine could launch her self toward you. But it was too late, she latched onto your cell like a falcon, and scanned the screen. Her lips turned into a wild smile while Emma turned her head in anticipation.

"It's Ned!" Francine let out a burst of laughter as you dove back toward her to rescue your stolen device.

"Ned from the movie?" Emma questioned.

"What other Ned's do you know, Emma?" Francine rang, allowing you to take back your phone.

"The dad from the Try Guys." Emma shrugged. You would have laughed if you didn't feel your stomach fall away. What was there to be so nervous about?

"Why is movie star Ned sending you memes? How do you even know him, again?" Francine sat straight up against some throw pillows to begin her interrogation.

"When Daniel moved to London for college, he and Gwilym became the best of friends." You sighed, reminding Francine of the name of the man she kept referring to.

"He sent you a meme, Y/N." Francine rose her brows like she was alluding to something more.

"After he drove you across the desert and back," Emma added, pointing your way.

"Yeah, I guess he's my friend too." You gapped. Well he was, wasn't he? Your phone buzzed again and everyone's eyes filled with curiosity as you kept your phone clutched to your chest.

"He's also a movie star!" Francine rang.

"Just because he was in some Australian rom-com doesn't mean anything-"

"What other movies has he been in? Maybe he's loaded and you guys can be Hollywoods new it couple." Emma cooed like she was dreaming for herself.

"I don't know- the last time I saw Gwil was years ago I hardly think-"

"Babe. I can tell you're into him so do away with excuses!" Francine leaned over the sofa to rest a hand on your knee.

"Guys, I'm just now really getting to know him..." You reasoned, trying like mad to pretend his gloriously pretty face wasn't always on your mind.

"He's hot. I'm talking mega beautiful. I don't blame you. And he basically already took you on a date." Francine remained trying to get you to crack.

"Uh, guys..." Emma was fixated on her phone screen when you and Francine whipped your heads toward the girl. She began to squeal through her teeth as she bolted from the pull out bed and skipped toward the coffee table to snatch the remote.

"What are you doing, Emma?" You asked but it sounded more like a warning. She only giggled as the tv buzzed to life. After a quick search on your shared Amazon account, a film from last year started to play.

"Are you trying to tell us that Gwilym is in Bohemian Rhapsody? Wasn't that nominated for a bunch of awards?" Francine focused on Emma who was staring at the screen in anticipation.

"Oh my God." You sighed. Not only did were you turned off by the thrill of seeing Gwil on screen, you felt horrible for not knowing your brother's best friend was in a damn blockbuster. Had you really been so far gone in party land that you were that blinded to the world around you? Francine picked up on your unease and tried to talk you into the spirit.

"He's probably just in the background for a second. But we have to watch it, so, Let's just get it over with."

Emma let out a nervous giggle as an actor opened his eyes on the screen. You literally held your breath while the film crept through the introduction. And then you saw him. Dawning a curly black wig and a smile that belonged to someone else.

"Oh no." You groaned at the exact moment Francine let out an excitable laugh.

"Your boyfriend is Brian May!" She squealed. Gwilym wasn't your boyfriend, but he was nearly identical to the guitarist of Queen. You loved their music. You loved their story. But you had totally missed the posters and promotions for the film that featured Gwil's name in lights. You decided then and there that you would never drink again. You and your friends watched the rest of the film in total rapture. Emma decided the blonde playing Roger was the new love of her life. Francine started to cry when the lad playing Freddie walked out of the doctor's office. You held her hand as the band kicked off Live Aid and when the credits rolled, Emma hit mute and you three stared at each other for a beat, lost for words.

"I sort of forgot all about Ned. He's a proper actor, isn't he?" Francine looked to you like she'd just seen a ghost. You could only muster a stunned nod of exact agreement.

"I just remembered something... my sister in law saw this in theaters like four times. She's totally obsessed with it. Let's call her!" Emma reached across the pull out bed to claim her cell phone before you could stop her.

"No, Emma this is ridiculous! It's not like I don't know Gwil." You reasoned.

"You just said that you were just getting to know him. And trust me when I say that no one knows an actor better than the fandom." Francine lifted her brow as if to prove a point. The girl was still obsessed with Supernatural, and would spout off info about the actors she kept up learning online. But it was all hearsay, wasn't it?

"That's insanely untrue, just so you know." You nodded to Francine, hoping to coax her out of that toxic mindset. The phone was ringing through Emma's speaker and before anyone could day more, someone answered.

"Susan! What do you know about Gwilym Lee?" Emma giggled, resting her phone on the bed with her speaker's volume all the way up. You buried your head in your hands as Francine wrapped an encouraging arm around your shoulder.

"You mean Brian May's clone?" Susan the sister in law crackled through the cell phone. She wasn't wrong. Halfway through the film, you'd nearly forgotten the real members of Queen weren't actually there.

"Is that a compliment? I mean really tell me about this guy. Sell him to me." Emma bargained, propping herself up on her elbows and kicking her feet behind her.

"Okay..." The girl on the phone breathed and suspense built up in your stomach while you waited for a stranger to list of facts about your brother's best friend. "Gwilym is perfect for starters. He's into sports and he's totally obsessed with his castmates. They still see each other all the time. Gwil seems totally devoted and passionate. Rumor has it he's engaged. The good ones are always taken."

You suddenly felt like a ghost of your former giddy self. Why should you have felt so sick? So what if he was engaged? He was just your friend. But friends were supposed to tell each other these sorts of things, weren't they?

"Engaged?" Emma squealed, practically causing the silky pull out bed to ripple from her risen octave.

"Well, it's just a rumor. There are no pictures of a ring or a girl or anything. But where there's smoke there's fire. Anyway, can I tell you about the rest of the cast?"

Francine sat up beside you, casting fiery eyes into yours as she reached for her phone to begin investigating for herself.

"No, I've gotta go." Emma hung up with no explanation, flinging her legs over the edge of the rickety couch bed.

"She's right, there's no evidence." Francine rang, turning her phone to me with a slim Google result list.

"Not to be a downer but I feel like there's gotta be something going on, right?" Emma glanced at you with big sad eyes.

"I- I don't know. Maybe he is? He's talked for ages about his family. Never said a word about a girl."

"That's because he's into you and he's on a great American fling. If there's a girl he's not going to say so." Francine reasoned. She was right. She had to be. Gwilym was too beautiful and endearing to have been single. You were just a good flirt.

I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction... 'cause I try and I...

Your phone was ringing. And your friend's eyes were glued to your every move. You were only a little shocked to find Gwilym's name flickering across your dim screen now. But as you snatched the phone to answer you felt your chest tighten between a rope of anxious nerves.

"Hi, Gwil." You tried to sound nonchalant as you stood up and pointed a warning finger to your friends. But they, of course, couldn't be expected to hold back their bursts of excitable chirps.

"Hi-"

"Hang on!" You warned, making a break for your bedroom. There was little hope your friends would settle their giggles because as they chased after you to beg to eavesdrop, they were squealing far too loudly. After dramatically flinging yourself behind your locked bedroom door you answered the phone once more.

"Okay! Hi!" You sighed, trying desperately to even out your breathing.

"Is this a bad time?" Gwilym quizzed over the phone. You cast your eyes across your well-kept room with a smile.

"No! Just... what's up?" You wondered in turn. No time was a bad time for Gwilym.

"Alright." The man let out a chuckle before continuing. "Well, this might be a stretch, but here it goes. I was going to bring Dan with me to a premier tomorrow. He had to cancel last minute for work, yet again. I've already got a plus one, so, would you like to come with me?"

"I'm second best, huh?" You laughed, stepping further into the room, past a stack of books around the corner.

"Well, first if you think about it! Dan called dibs, but I... well I called you."

Oh dear. You had to remind yourself to breathe as Gwilym went on to say,

"I think you'd get on well with my mates is all, and you seemed to have a free week. Asking seemed worth a shot."

"I see." You bit your lip. Was he really being as forward as he sounded? Was he really engaged? "Well, I'd love a night out. Only if you're sure though."

"Oh, I'm sure. Come round Dan's by seven?" You could hear him smile.

"Okay." You agreed while still holding your breath. "See you soon, Gwil."

What do I wear?

#gwilym x reader #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee #borhap fanfic

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megsblackfirewrites · 7 years

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Two For The Road: Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Jesse was white knuckling the handlebars as he drove down the highway. That close encounter with the Petras Units still had him shaking. Hanzo would have been dead if that thing hadn’t showed up. Which only made him even more worried. What had that thing been? Hanzo said it was like a were-coyote or something, but the fact that it was capable of human speech and emotion worried him.

He’d heard of a few reports during his time on the run about a strange creature that sometimes acted on its own but other times fell in with a gang to act as a bodyguard. What was it and why was it all over the Southwest? Why had it stopped to save Hanzo with its weird pack of coyotes? There were so many questions and he didn’t have time to stop and look for answers.

Hanzo tapped his elbow and he turned his head to look at her. She pointed past him towards a small campsite sign on the side of the road. He wanted to keep going, but it was getting late. The last thing he wanted was to be ambushed in the middle of the night. He needed more light if he hoped to hit his mark and he didn’t want to have to rely on the dragons. They tired Hanzo out enough as it was without relying on them constantly to deal with his own handicaps. He nodded to show he’d seen the sign and turned onto the side road.

It was a fair distance in and there was already a family camped out when they arrived. Jesse contemplated driving away, but there was plenty of room for them to pitch a tent for the night away from the family. It should keep them from getting too close for comfort if something went down. The kids came running over as soon as Jesse turned the engine off, laughing and admiring the hoverbike.

“That’s so cool!” one of them shouted. “Can you do tricks on it?”

“Not weighed down, I can’t,” Jesse smiled as he got off the bike and pulled his helmet off. “Honey, can you…?”

Hanzo was already unloading their gear, ignoring the kids as if they weren’t there. Jesse smiled and moved to help her, carrying the heavier items since her arms were already full. The kids followed them, bothering them until their mother called them back to the camper. They got their tent set up just as the mother walked over to talk to them.

“Hello,” she greeted. “The boys were wondering if you wanted to join us for supper.”

“I don’t see why not,” Hanzo said with a smile as she straightened up and dusted her shirt off. “What do you think, honey?”

“Beats cooking for ourselves,” Jesse laughed as he kissed her cheek. “I’m Harold. This is Ichigo.”

Hanzo shot him a look before she extended her hand to the other woman. She introduced herself as Margaret and happily talked about her boys on the way back to her camper.

“Ichigo?” Hanzo hissed as Margaret chattered away. “You just called me ‘strawberry’.”

“And? Not like she knows the difference,” he chuckled.

“Remind me to call you something stupid if I ever have to introduce you to Japanese people,” she growled as she sat down in the chair Margaret’s husband brought her.

Jesse smiled as he pulled up a chair. He talked with Hugo about the latest game, admitting that he hadn’t been keeping up with anything since they’d started their trip. Hugo happily filled him in on everything and Jesse did his best to pretend to be interested. In all honesty, he found football to be extremely boring and baseball wasn’t much better. Hell, he’d been around Jack long enough to appreciate the finer techniques of golf and it was still boring.

“So, where’re you going next?” Hugo asked as he handed a poker to Jesse and stabbed a wiener onto his own.

“Probably swing up towards Yellowstone,” Jesse said. “Want to show my cherry blossom the beauty of the nation.”

Hanzo looked at him and smirked. “Harold, don’t try to use Japanese terms of endearment if you don’t know them,” she teased.

“I try,” Jesse sighed and smiled at Hanzo. “I try to make it feel like home, but I just keep failing.”

“You aren’t failing, honey,” Hanzo shook her head. “You’re just being an adorable ass. I much prefer it when you use those adorable Southern phrases instead.”

Jesse laughed and leaned over to kiss her cheek. He stuck his poker into the fire and started turning it slowly. Hanzo gave him a weird look and he lifted an eyebrow.

“Have you never cooked hot dogs on an open fire?” he asked.

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” she asked. “Hand one over.”

“Are you being serious?” he asked softly as he handed a wiener over to her.

“I’ve seen it done on television,” she shrugged. “Never went camping growing up unless it was wilderness survival training.”

“Have you ever had a s’more?” he whispered.

“That’s that graham cracker, marshmallow, and chocolate thing, right?” she asked as she put her poker into the fire. “I’ve had s’more flavoured treats, but never an authentic s’more.”

Jesse turned to look at Hugo. “Please tell me you have all the trappin’s for a s’more?” he asked.

“I do,” Hugo smirked. “Your cherry blossom want one?”

“After supper,” Hanzo said as she turned the poker slowly. “I wouldn’t want to spoil my appetite.”

Hugo laughed and Jesse smiled at Hanzo. They talked pleasantly about their trip, leaving out the part about the Petras Units, but the kids seemed really interested in the Grand Canyon.

“Did you see the Coyote?” one of them demanded.

“Sam!” Margaret scolded. “We don’t ask the nice people about fairy tales.”

“But he’s real, Mom!” Sam argued. “Jason’s dad saw him in the Grand Canyon last month!”

“What’s the Coyote?” Hanzo asked curiously.

“He’s a giant man-coyote! Like a werewolf, but not as big,” Sam grinned. “He’s really furry and is always followed by this massive pack of coyotes! They say that he used to be an evil man in life, so he was cursed in death to walk the world as a freak.”

“It’s all nonsense,” Margaret sighed. “People have been seeing weird things in the woods for years. It’s probably just a mangy bear that the coyotes are hoping dies soon so they have a nice, big meal.”

“I don’t know,” Hanzo mused. “I think I saw something like that the other day while we were camping.”

“Really?” Sam and his brother stared at her in awe.

Hanzo nodded and leaned forward as she pulled her poker off of the fire. She set it into the offered bun and covered it liberally in ketchup. She took a bite and covered her mouth as hot juice squirted past her lips. She chewed slowly, probably wondering how much she should tell.

“I was just getting the campsite set up,” she said. “Harold was getting more firewood for the fire I had started when I heard something rustling in the underbrush. I’m not an easily frightened woman, but the sound made the hairs on my neck stand up. I was scared, but I couldn’t tell why. Then, the first wolf stepped out of the bushes.

“Now, I know wolves aren’t normally found around here, but they were there. I was scared, but I was terrified as more wolves stepped out from the underbrush. There was nowhere for me to run, but I didn’t want to give them any sort of advantage, so I ran as fast as I could towards the cliffside, hoping to put some distance between us. The wolves must have been very hungry, because they followed me to the cliff and down the other side.

“I was trapped on this narrow plateau only a few meters wide staring at five hungry wolves. I thought for sure that I was dead. Then, as the first wolf started to go for the kill, a pack of coyotes appeared out of nowhere. I should have ran, but I was frozen in disbelief. These skinny little coyotes managed to not only overpower the wolves, but kill them all before the Alpha showed up.

“This Alpha was huge, almost double the size of its packmates. It was angry too; can’t say I’d feel any different if a stranger just got all of my family killed. So it comes charging down the cliff towards me and the coyotes scatter. This wolf prowls back and forth, sizing me up with murder in its eyes. I wasn’t just a meal at that point; I was the enemy. It bared its teeth and charged, but this big hand appeared out of nowhere and grabbed it by the head.

“It was just as you explained it; like a big wolfman, but a coyote instead. And they were very strong; they killed the wolf with their bare hands, smashing the Alpha against the ground like a child throwing a hissy fit.”

“What did you do?” Sam whispered.

“Well, screamed when it first showed up, but stood there staring afterwards,” Hanzo smiled.

“It didn’t try to kill you?” Sam’s brother whispered.

“No,” she shook her head. “It looked at me and told me to get back to my campsite before it turned and ran away.”

“Whoa,” the boys stared at them in awe.

Hanzo smirked as she finished her hot dog. “Or, maybe I made the whole thing up as a campfire story,” she said.

The boys shouted in disbelief, staring at her as she put another wiener on her poker and stuck it into the fire. Hugo and Margaret chuckled, looking at each other in amusement. They had appreciated her story as well. It was definitely something that would be told around a campfire.

Jesse jumped a little as he felt his cellphone go off. He excused himself and answered it, pressing it tightly against his ear.

“Hello?”

“Jesse, it’s Van,” his sister replied. “You need to get to L.A as quick as you can.”

“Somethin’ wrong?” Jesse frowned.

“Yes and no,” she sighed. “No because it doesn’t really concern us, but yes because Tom is pissed.”

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Can’t talk over the phone; just get here as soon as you can,” she said.

“Okay,” Jesse sighed and ruffled his hair. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Jesse,” Vanessa said before she hung up.

“Change of plans,” Jesse said as he sat back down and kissed Hanzo’s cheek. “Sis wants us to go visit her.”

“How nice of her,” Hanzo smiled and leaned against him. “Now, I think you owe me a s’more.”

Jesse grinned as Margaret handed the items over to him. Time to blow Hanzo away.

#genderbending #campfire stories #road trip #lady!Hanzo Shimada #Jesse McCree

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seracross · 8 years

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Heart of Fire - Chapter Fifteen: Thick Skinned

Summary: “A dragon without fire is nothing but a liability.” Nine years ago, Syra was thrust into a war: a hide-and-seek battle for control of five powerful crystals, hidden by a secret organization 200 years prior. Taking human-form, Syra searches the dragon-hating city of Altaira for clues on their location. But when her secret is revealed, fickle hearts are quick to change. And when an old enemy raises his scaly head, who will be there to turn to? Her estranged siblings? An ex-fiancé? Or a temperamental pixie the size of a duckling? In a race against her father’s murderer, Syra must traverse the five kingdoms to halt his efforts to rebuild a powerful relic that should never have been created. Are the bonds of love and family strong enough to survive the horrors of secrets and betrayal? And how do you fight an elder dragon bent on revenge when you’re a wyrmling who can’t even breathe fire?

Genre: Fantasy, Adventure, Romance, Drama

Rating: PG-17 (Strong Language & Violence)

Read All | Read Next

“We mean no harm!” Aidan called from the raft as they drifted towards the bow of branches.

Perched atop them, a patrol of Kiithran glared down at the human intruders. They huffed and scratched at the bark, their feathered manes bristling out like cocks ready to fight.

“This is Kiithran territory, human!” called the largest one, his headdress marking him as the patrol's leader. He stepped out from the foliage with his head bent low, showing off his long horns framed by the disk of black-and-gold feathers around his head, “State your business, then leave.”

“Please,” said Cassius, raising his hands, “our friend is sick and needs to be looked at.”

“Then take them to a human healer. We do not tend to your kind.”

Cassius looked to Aidan with concern, “He's serious.”

“We were just on our way to Morai to see Dürgah when she fell ill,” Aidan replied. “He should be expecting us.”

“Dürgah?” The patrol members whispered amongst themselves at the mention of their chief's name.

“Who sent you?” asked the leader, still weary.

“A man named Valen.”

“We do not know this Valen.” The leader raised his tail to signal an attack.

“Wait,” said the kria beside him, lowering his tail with hers, “Dürgah did say he was expecting visitors. These could be them.”

“How can you know for sure?” He leered down at her from the corner of his eye, refusing to drop his guard.

“Show us your hands!” she called down as they passed under the branches.

It took a second, but Aidan lifted up Syra’s hand to show them the silver band about her finger.

“Very well.” He turned to his patrol, “Tahneth, Drakar, you’re with me.”

He led his group over the river and down onto the bank.

“Over here,” the kria pawed at the ground for them to paddle ashore, “we'll take you there.”

The patrol helped them pull the raft from the water, their thick, scaly talons surprisingly nimble.

“I’m Razira,” the kria said once they were on steady ground, “and that’s my brother, Namir.” She seemed friendly enough—young and eager, with her colorful chest feathers puffed up.

“It's a pleasure,” Aidan said, dipping his head towards Namir. But Namir simply huffed and twitched one of his four ears.

“Dürgah’s our father,” Razira said, ignoring her brother's sour attitude, “so we’ll be escorting you to him.”

“Escorting?” Aidan paused, not liking the image that popped into his head.

“Of course,” Razira ruffled the wings that laid snug against her back and Aidan paled. “How else did you expect to get to floating mountains?”

Razira insisted on carrying Syra as they followed Namir down a narrow trail, while Drakar and Tahneth guarded the others.

“I’ll let you know up front, I’m not too keen on bringing humans back to Morai, let alone being ridden,” Namir said from the head of the pack, “So, if you try anything, I will not hesitate to drop you. Understood?”

Aidan gave him a calm nod, but his knuckles were turning white under his cloak.

“Sorry for the scare earlier,” Razira said as they trekked through forest, “Namir trains his anukaal to be fearless, but he can be blind sometimes.”

“I heard that,” Namir called from the front.

“Well, at least your hearing works.”

Namir snorted, “Then you try leading next time.”

“If you can convince Pacha to allow it, I’ll certainly take the offer.”

“Who’s Pacha?” asked Aidan.

“Papa,” she clarified, “he insists on patrols being led by rahgs, not kria. Well, the elders insist on it. He just goes along with it so to not cause an upset. Ironic, considering that the Dahmia were originally female.”

Petra scoffed, “That’s got to be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. If they can fight, let them fight.”

“And it’s not even like we train for hard battles—self-defense, maybe. But most of us are just scouts or guards. That’s why, when the time comes for me to ascend, I will become the first kria Gahirem.”

“Yeah, good luck convincing the elders of that,” said Tahneth, “they’ll ground you just for mentioning it.”

Razira kept her head up, but Petra could see her confidence waver.

“They’re really that strict?” asked Cassius, also picking up on her budding anxiety.

“Yeah, they are. They love their traditions, and will gang up on anyone who questions them. Many Kiithran—even some from my cohort—were left stranded on the ground for merely asking if they could start selling headdresses to other races.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Aidan asked. “It would give you more to trade.”

“It’s just ‘not what we do’,” Razira mocked. “Plus, headdresses can be seen as sacred and to see them on the wrong person would be infuriating to them.”

“And you’re just going to let this continue?” Petra asked.

“As Gahirem, I could suggest the change—even as Lahirem, if my mate agreed—but the council is made up mostly of elders, and they’d dismiss me as mad, or treasonous, if they didn’t banish me all together.”

“Sounds like they got their heads shoved too deep in their own dung pit.”

Petra was rough and blunt, but it was exactly what Razira needed. She laughed so hard she snorted, catching her patrol off-guard.

“That sounds just about right, actually.”

“Then it’s high time someone pulled them out,” Aidan said, giving her a warm grin. “Just make sure you have enough support before you challenge them. I’ve seen similar dealings go way wrong without it.”

“Thank you,” Razira said, giving them a tap with her long, furry tail before following the patrol into a break in the trees.

“Wait. Are we there already?” Cassius asked from the back.

“Almost,” said Razira, trotting through the branches and into the light.

Breaking from the shade of the forest, they found themselves standing on a stone precipice that stretched out over hills that rolled away from the mountain range. To the southwest, massive shadows floated in mist above the horizon.

“That’s Morai,” Razira said with pride.

Stepping out onto the ledge, strong winds whipped their cloaks, hair, and feathers, and the Kiithran stretched and pumped their wings.

“Ready?” Namir asked Aidan when he was situated astride his back. He could feel the boy's hands shaking in his mane.

“No.”

“Too bad,” Namir sprung and sprinted across the ledge, spreading his wings.

Seeing the land fall away from him, Aidan forewent holding Namir by the mane and flung his arms around his sturdy neck. This earned him a deep chuckle from the stag who seemed too delighted in his panic. The edge disappeared under Namir and wind struck them from below. Aidan felt Namir’s muscles bunch and release as his wings pumped against the air, driving them upward. His eyes leaked from the wind, but he could see Cassius and Petra following close behind, with Razira pulling up the rear, Syra clutched tight in her scaly talons.

Aidan thanked the heavens that the weather was kind with little turbulence. After the first half hour of having his face shoved into Namir's mane, he began to calm down and enjoy the scenery, one glance at a time. His view from the castle tower was certainly beautiful, but to see the land spread away like a green sea was something he doubted any human had been privileged to witness.

The shapes that were once shadows now loomed miles both below and overhead. From their position, they saw mountains, rivers, and entire forests all hovering over the great lake below.

“Nearly there, now,” Namir said through the wind.

But Aidan's relief and excitement for firm ground came too early. As they glided nearer to the rocky cliffs, updrafts surged around their perimeter, blasting them from below. Aidan screamed and clung on, almost choking Namir—a sight he knew Petra was recording in her memory for later.

“Easy, now. It's right in front of us,” Namir said, holding his wings out steady and letting the draft carry them up to a landing platform.

“See? Wasn't that bad, now was it?” Razira said as they trotted to a landing.

His reply came out as incomprehensible garble through thin, blue lips. His hands still shook and Namir swore he had bruises on his sides from where Aidan's legs held their death grip. The twins burst out laughing. Being creatures of flight themselves, they had found the ride quite pleasant and enjoyable.

“I can't wait to tell Syra about this,” Petra snickered, climbing down from Drakar.

“Speaking of your friend,” Razira said, lying Syra on the ground, “didn't you say you were looking for a healer?”

“Yes, please,” Cassius said, “Do you have one? She has this rash that we know nothing about, and she hasn't woken for days.”

He showered her the red marks littered across Syra's skin. Razira looked to Namir who twitched an ear for her to go.

“This way.”

With Syra laid atop her back, Razira led them through dense woodland paths until they reached a clearing pocked with squatting huts of leaves, logs, and stone. From a distance, they appeared primitive—albeit colorful. But as the party entered the sprawling village, the intricate weavings and carvings spoke of a culture not so different from the reptilian mountain-dwellers.

The huts were of one story, but wide—large enough to fit a large family comfortably. And each was decorated to the owners' liking. Some were painted, some grew flowerbeds on the roof, but most sported feathers and sparkling stones to some degree. It was the carvings that grabbed the twins' attention. Cut into the wooden framing were scenes of family members and their accomplishments, similar to the carvings that lined their lair walls.

“Those are nohaaki,” Razira told them as she led them through the hut-lined streets, their occupants astir with confused looks and whispers.

“Nohaaki?” Petra repeated, surprised by the striking similarity to her own language.

“Yes, Memories of Record. You'll see them everywhere. At mine, even the walls are covered. There's only one place you won't see them.”

“Oh? And where's that?” asked Aidan.

“Moremi's den.”

Further down the hill and cuddled back into a stand of large-leafed trees, a single hut sat bare and smelling of a strong mix of herbs. It was on the larger side, with several windows spaced along its sides. Colored glass and stones hung outside from their eaves and distracted Petra from the old kria that answered Razira's knocks on her door.

“Well, this is a surprise,” she said, her ears erect and eyes bright despite her age. “Here I was expecting human trinkets, and you bring me actual humans.”

“Sorry for the late notice, Morai” said Razira, “We just arrived and one of the visitors needs your attention.”

“Oh, it's quite alright. Don't mind at all,” the mare huffed Razira's meekness away, “I'd be more concerned about your father's reaction. Does he know they're here?”

“Not yet,” Razira admitted. “Figured I'd go fetch him once they were settled here.”

“Go on and hurry off, then. They'll be fine with me.” Curiosity bubbled from her eyes as she looked the party over, “I'm interested to hear their stories of the Lower Lands, anyway.”

Razira left them to be escorted into the hut, where Moremi instructed them to lay Syra on the woven blanket by the first window.

“You're lucky,” she said, squatting by Syra's side and unclasping her cloak with agile fingers, “my last patient left this morning, so you have the whole hut to yourself.”

“Where's everyone else?” asked Petra, glancing about the open room filled with mats and hanging cloth dividers.

“Everyone else?”

“You're family? All the huts we passed seemed to be occupied, so I just assumed...”

“Oh, no, young one,” she said with a faint grin curling up her long face, “it's just me, here. As healer, the Earie is my family—I take no mate, lest I show favoritism.”

“Sounds kind of lonely,” said Cassius.

“Eh,” Moremi grunted, “to be honest, I get enough earfuls just tending to the sick. I'd imagine living with them constantly would grow old quick. No, ol' Moremi here is quite content with the quiet—when I can get it, of course.”

“Now, how long did you say this one's been sick?” Moremi ran her fingers down Syra's neck and arms, examining the scratch marks.

“About two days, or so,” Aidan said, taking a seat on the dirt floor opposite Moremi. “Said she felt tight and itchy, before just passing out.”

“Hmm,” Moremi narrowed her eyes, “tight and itchy, you said?” She unfastened Syra's vest and lifted her shirt for a better look of the long lines raking across her torso. “That would explain the scratching, but not the tightness or the sleeping.”

She lowered her snout to just above Syra's chest and sniffed, trying to identify any oils left by irritating plants. But her ears shot back and she was stunned for a moment, confused.

“Everything, okay?” Aidan asked.

“Curious...” said Moremi, causing Aidan to lean forward, attempting to see what she saw.

Aidan was sent jumping when she lifted Syra's arm and shoved her snout into her armpit, taking in a long whiff.

“Um...what are you doing?” he asked with big eyes.

“You're not human after all, are you?” Morai asked. The stare from the corner of her eye sent chills up Aidan's spine.

“Will that be a problem?” asked Petra, refusing to be intimidated. They come a long way to find this healer, and she was certainly not going to be turned away at the door.

“Then tell me,” Moremi said, sitting up and craning her neck towards the twins standing above her, “when was the last time she molted?”

“We don't have time for this,” Petra grumbled as Moremi led them through the misty vegetation of the mountain behind the village.

“We also don't have time to sit around, explaining to the entire village why there's a dragon in the middle of town square,” Aidan said, helping Cassius to carry Syra up and over boulders. For an elder, Moremi sure made the hike look easy, and she pushed the group to keep pace.

“Nearly there!” she bugled from a ridge some distance up the hill. “I think this spot will do just fine.”

“You think,” mocked Petra, her face red from the climb.

Aidan heaved Syra over the ledge to Cassius, and they all took a rest while Moremi walked through the patch of boulders left by a previous rockslide.

“Yes, this'll do!” She raised her tail, calling them over. “Bring her over here.”

They laid Syra at Moremi's feet and she opened the pouch strung around her neck. Out leapt a small, brown toad that squirmed in Moremi's hands. And it smelled absolutely horrible.

“Oh, that's rank,” Aidan said, covering his mouth and nose. “What is that thing?”

“It smells dead,” said Cassius, squinting from the fumes that radiated from the squat amphibian.

“It smells like shit,” Petra hissed, huffing air out her nose, trying to keep the stench from taking root.

“Well, you're not wrong,” Moremi mused. “It is a Dung Toad. Or, graga, as you may know it. And if this doesn't wake her up, nothing will.”

Moremi shoved the toad right up under Syra's nose, its sticky toes gripping and sliding at her nostrils.

“Oh, Lord, I hope this works,” Petra prayed. “She's going to be smelling that for days.”

The toad chirped and nearly hopped away, but Syra's nose gave a twitch and her face scrunched in disgust until her lids slid open.

“Good Lord, Petra, what did you eat?” Syra coughed and Moremi tucked the toad back in its pouch.

“You would know if you'd been awake this whole time.”

“This whole time?” Syra asked, sitting up, “Where...where are we?” Nothing around her looked familiar. The river and cave were gone, and instead of a giant goat, a feathered elk now stood over her.

“Morai,” said Cassius, relief brightening his face.

“Morai? Already? How long was I out?”

“Nearly three days!” spat Petra. “We had to carry your rump most of the way.”

“To be fair, Razira did most of the carrying,” Aidan corrected.

“Who?”

“We'll explain later. Right now, Moremi has a question for you.”

Syra looked up at the teal-and-purple Kiithran sitting beside her.

“When was the last time you molted, Syra?” she asked with warm bedside manner.

“Molted?” Syra looked surprised. The thought had never even occurred to her in years. “Nine, ten years ago?” she said, wracking her brain which was still fuzzy from sleep. “Right before you two hit your juvenile stage.”

“So, you've been stuck in old hide this whole time?” Petra laughed, “No wonder you felt horrible.”

“It wasn't like I could just shed it off in the middle of the city.”

“Well, you're in a safe place, now,” said Moremi, turning her muzzle to the grove of stones. “Why don't you take the time, now, while you can? I'm sure you'll feel worlds better.”

Syra stood, but hesitated, looking around at her spectators with fidgeting fingers.

“Don't tell me you don't know how!” Petra snickered.

“I do!” Syra spat back, “It's just that...Mother helped me last time. And it’s…just kind of embarrassing with all of you watching.”

Petra stifled a laughed and Cassius bopped her across the back of her head.

“Then we'll help you, this time,” he said, holding out a hand, “It’s certainly not as embarrassing as us needing help learning to relieve ourselves.”

Cassius led Syra into the boulder pit where he waiting at the edge. Light came and went, and Moremi stood bedazzled by the creature left behind. But the twins looked on pity. Instead of shining bronze, her scales were dull, muted, and an ugly brown. Creases and cracks veined down her legs and sides from where her hide begged to shed. Beneath the outer layer, they could already see her new hide trying to burst out.

“Okay,” Syra said, a might uncomfortable from the stares and feeling shrink-wrapped, “now what?”

“Start scratching,” said Cassius, “I’ll help with the smaller bits.”

Syra raked her claws across her chest, arms, sides, and down her tail, and rubbed herself against the rough edges of the boulders. She was surprised at how easily the dry, old skin peeled off. Strip by strip and piece by piece, her old hide fell away like the shell of a hard-boiled egg. She felt the pressure and tightness lift away as her new skin stretched and filled out. By the end of it, she shone like a freshly mint coin and stood taller and stronger.

“She's still tiny!” Petra hooted in laughter, pointing up at her. “I’m still twice your size.”

Syra glared down at her sister and growled, blowing a gust of wind out her snout that nearly toppled her over.

“I still have another one to go—I’ll catch up soon enough.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, runt.” Petra waved a dismissive hand and walked away back towards the village.

But before she could hop down the ledge, a long face with arching horns and shimmering headdress popped up from below. They stood there a moment, nose to snout, with confused wide eyes.

“Beg pardon,” it said in a deep, rolling voice, “but, who are you and why are you on my mountain?” It then saw the giant lizard crouching over the two other humans and another Kiithran, with eyes glaring and fangs bared from Petra’s insult, “And why is there a dragon in my backyard?!”

In one leap, the stag shot up and over Petra, and bounded off to confront the perceived threat.

“Get behind me!” he commanded, positioning himself between Moremi and Syra, and lowering his head—horns at the ready with russet-and-brown mane flared.

Syra simply sat there, surprised—and a bit amused—at the display.

“I take it Razira hasn’t told you yet?” Moremi asked, holding back the chuckle in her throat.

The stag paused, “Told me what?”

“Papah!” Razira’s voice called from below the ledge before she popped up and bounded over to them, clearly out of breath.

“What is this?” the stag asked, his body stiff, “What haven’t I been told?”

“I tried to tell you, but you just kept on running,” Razira said through pants.

“I saw a light and had to see what it was. And what I found was this!” He huffed up at Syra.

“Yes, very good. You found our guests. Just like you would have if you had stopped to listen to me.”

“Guests? What guests?”

Razira’s lower left ear twitched.

“Pacha, this is Syra,” she said, motioning to the dragon who gave a quick, toothy grin. “She’s the one Valen was talking about. You know, the one who we agreed to invite to the meeting? The Kesh Raza meeting? Tomorrow?”

The stag blinked, lifted his head, and sat down, “I am so terribly sorry.”

#Heart of Fire #dragons #fantasy #sword and sorcery #adventure #magic #romance #war #drama #ya fiction #Wattpad

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