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atinytokki · 4 years

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𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Chapter 5: Return to the Maze

Usually Jongho would be suspicious of such consistent good weather, but for now he was simply grateful that the sea goddess had blessed their journey with clear skies and fair winds.

They were moving much faster than they had been last time they visited Maddox’s Island, despite travelling in a very roundabout way, and they had a rescue plan in place. Knowing the territory better the second time had its advantages.

When the sails were squared away and the crew could relax some, Jongho found himself in the captain’s cabin once again.

It had become the regular location for all their gatherings the past few weeks, something about occupying the space lending them confidence in their decisions.

Unsurprisingly, Mingi, Yunho, and Seonghwa were already there. Mingi and Yunho were in a quiet conversation off to the side, sorting through the remaining stacks of gleaming treasure, while Seonghwa sat on his bed reading something.

Naturally, Jongho was curious, and moved to peek over the eldest’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of what it was.

“This is Hongjoong’s...” he realised with a frown, combing over handwritten text that detailed their adventures from the birth of the ATEEZ onwards.

At the mention of Hongjoong’s name, Mingi and Yunho perked up and moved closer, pushing the gold aside. “That was his mother’s diary,” Mingi remarked in a quiet voice when he recognised the book from an encounter years ago, reaching forward and flipping back to the beginning. A wave of nostalgia broke over the group. “He just continued it with his own story.”

Seonghwa nodded and went back to the section he was reading. Events that had taken place before he joined them.

“Did he say anything about me?” Mingi said a moment later, clearing his throat nervously.

“Just that you’re loyal and attentive, and sometimes he thinks back to those days when it was just the two of you on the beach and realises those were the happiest moments of his childhood,” Seonghwa answered, reading off a page from over a year ago.

“Is there any mention of me in there?” Jongho asked quietly, masking his nerves by clearing his throat. He didn’t know what he was expecting to hear, but he hoped it was pleasant.

Seonghwa smiled softly and flipped until he found the passage of Jongho’s entry into the story.

“At first, I thought he was older than me,” he read in a soft voice. “Not from his looks or his manner, but his eyes. They’re the eyes of someone who has seen horrible things, and as soon as I saw them I wanted him to join us. I want to see light in those eyes, not just darkness.”

Tears gathered and Jongho slowly sat down and let the words wash over him. Some of that darkness lingered, and it felt like failure.

“See, he’s always loved you,” Seonghwa reassured the younger boy, who shook his head and chuckled in disbelief.

“Well, he met me in the middle of a nightmare, of course he took me in, I prophesied it...”

“But he didn’t bring you onboard because he thought you were useful,” Mingi interrupted firmly. “He did it because he thought you belonged here.”

Jongho pulled his knees up to his chest. It was chilling to think about, but from this side of the event, that sudden decision had been the right one.

“What was his first impression of me?” Yunho piped up. Seonghwa was already turning to the pages that chronicled their introduction and began to read without hesitation.

“Mingi says I’m ‘collecting’ people, but I prefer to think of it as taking a chance on a likeminded individual. Perhaps the ATEEZ is Yunho’s second chance at life, the way it’s also become mine.”

A beat passed in agreement as they considered how true it was for all of them. Mingi nudged Yunho as if to remind him what he had said himself on the beach not long ago. Everything happens for a reason.

“How about you, did he have much to say?” Mingi smirked, turning to Seonghwa and already anticipating pages of lengthy prose.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head.

“Oh, something about me being a thorn in his side, and plenty of other things from back then that he said to my face besides. Not much flattery, at least not until we reached an understanding. ‘I’ve never tasted fish seasoned so well in my life, a significant feat to have accomplished’.”

Together, they laughed at what Hongjoong appeared to consider high praise.

“He worried about me a lot,” Seonghwa frowned, sobering as he thumbed the pages. “I suppose I have been injured frequently, and I’m not one for combat. Even in such a private book, he shares his true thoughts very sparingly. But there is a passage in here that I think he’d want us to read— all of us, together. It feels like a message from beyond the grave. He wrote it that day we spent on the treasure island from what I can discern.”

The three of them pressed closer to look over Seonghwa’s shoulder, even as he read in a soft voice the words that were written in secret.

I’m ashamed to record it, but I must have done something to make Seonghwa convinced I want him gone. I’ll admit, I’ve kept my distance and concealed my thoughts on the subject, but I don’t know what I’ll do if he leaves me alone. I’ve come to realise in this safe haven, far away from the ghosts and shadows that lurked at every corner, that I need him.

I broke my most important rule, to never fully trust anyone, because even the most unlikely can betray you. He decided to try and patch up the hole in my heart and without even knowing it, I’ve started depending on people again.

A feeling wells up inside when I see the faces of those who have become so much more than friends to me. No matter how hard I fight it down, it’s there consuming me until I admit the truth behind why I fight every fight that comes my way when I’m so, so tired of trying.

They’re my family. I love them so much, it hurts, and if I could hold onto all seven of them forever, I would do it. There’s no guarantee we’ll ever be whole again when we set out from this place, and I should never have invested so much of myself in them, but I was defenceless and if I have to have one weakness— let it be this group of brightly shining stars who guide me to better places, even as they think I’m the one guiding them. Let it be this twinkling treasure I’ve found, the value of which can never be compared with all the riches in the world.

They’re everything to me. Until all our debts are settled, they’ll never know, but one day I’ll have the courage to tell them.

When I’m with you, I’m home.

The silence after was almost reverent. Like they’d been communicating with the dead, the group dare not breathe for fear of disturbing the moment.

“We knew,” Yunho finally whispered, voice thick with emotion. “We knew without being told.”

Jongho glanced over at him and slung an arm around his waist, pulling him further in to their warm little huddle.

“Hey,” he chuckled wetly. “Now he has told us.”

The contemplative silence was broken by a knock on the door and Yujin’s appearing head.

“What is it?” Mingi demanded, quickly wiping his eyes and returning to his cool professionalism.

Yujin tensed and tilted his head toward the window. A familiar island shrouded in mist had grown closer while they were distracted with the past. It was time to move on.

“We’re here.”

...

Establishing an exercise regimen after a serious injury was always difficult, but doing so in secret in the cramped belly of a navy warship was much more difficult, Hongjoong found.

There were moments here and there on their voyage southeast to respond to enemy ship sightings that the lucky prisoner wasn’t guarded in the business and activity of the day, which he used to his full advantage.

It was always better to trick the opponent into thinking he had him down for longer than he actually was.

Gingerly, Hongjoong lowered himself down from where he’d been hanging from a ceiling support beam and pulling his weight up and down for as long as he could, smiling at his own perfect timing and then wiping the expression clean before the steward entered with the morning meal.

He wasn’t in the shape he wanted to be in yet, but he felt marginally less useless this way.

“Chowder again?” Hongjoong beamed teasingly and sat up straight as Doh scooped up some of the soup and waited for the prisoner to open his mouth again.

“No complaining,” the steward muttered as he spooned the food in carefully. “You’re worse than the men. I told them and now I’m telling you; we’re at sea now, with no idea how long the food will have to last. No more delicacies until landfall.” His chastising sounded like Seonghwa’s, and suddenly Hongjoong needed to change the subject again.

“Let me do it,” he insisted with his mouth still full, swallowing and repeating himself until the steward relinquished the spoon.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t manage to get the slop onto the spoon and the spoon up to his mouth without help, and immediately his mood was soured.

“Don’t be upset,” the man scolded him softly when tears gathered. “You’re healing still.”

The reality was that exerting himself immediately before the meal was certainly not helping him control his own limbs and his own exasperation was making him quit before he should have.

“Steward.” Hongjoong gave him a look and sat back. “I managed to sail alone over five thousand nautical miles in a boat I built with my bare hands, whilst wounded and starving, as an eighteen year old, and came back stronger. Forgive me for being frustrated if I can’t lift a spoon without my hands shaking.”

Doh gave him a once over before placing the bowl to the side and offering his advice.

“If that’s the case, you may want to consider whether your problem is physical or psychological.”

Hongjoong scoffed, but the creeping suspicion in the back of his head was inclined to agree. “What, are you saying I don’t want to get better?”

“I’m saying I think you’re scared,” the steward explained after a hesitant pause. “Of what might happen when you do.”

It had been months since he’d seen a friendly face. More importantly, since any of his friends had seen him alive.

Assuming he escaped the Crow, what then? Assuming he miraculously found the ATEEZ, what would he do next?

Would things just go back to normal?

No, they thought he was gone— they thought he was dead. Things would never just go back to normal.

Presumably, they had moved on... without him.

Silent for the remainder of the meal, Hongjoong let the steward feed him and thought about what kind of changes that Park mentioned might have taken place.

Surely nothing too drastic... nothing that would cost him his friends...

If Seonghwa was alright, he must be looking out for the others. That much, Hongjoong could be sure of.

The steward, too, was quiet as he gathered his things and made to leave. Hongjoong stopped him just before he reached the door.

“Why are you helping me?”

This wasn’t the first time Hongjoong had needed to charm the pants off someone to get away with his plans, but despite the steward’s kindness, he was clearly a shrewd man who knew much more than he let on.

“The Admiral will need you in good shape,” he answered readily, but there was something in his eyes that told Hongjoong he had him exactly where he wanted him. Time to start making his move.

“Can you do me a favour, Steward?”

Doh cocked his head but his face didn’t change. He was open to suggestion.

“Perhaps.”

“Keep the surgeon away from me,” Hongjoong nearly whispered. If the surgeon came back intending to conduct experiments on him, he’d very quickly lose any surprise fitness and it would be back to square one.

The steward narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“He... makes me uncomfortable.”

That much was both believable and true. And so the steward bowed his head in agreement and left the room, and Hongjoong was left to lay back and exhale slowly.

He had gained an ally.

When the steward reached the quarterdeck, bundled against the winter winds bearing down on them, Admiral Kim was waiting for a report from him.

“Can he walk?”

Doh paused to decide how much to tell his captain, then smoothly delivered a half-truth.

“With help.”

“Bring him to the quarterdeck,” Kim ordered, eyes cast on the horizon with a sickening air of immense confidence. “I want to see what he’s worth.”

...

Like an ocean wave crashing into the shore, Wooyoung threw himself into Yeosang’s arms.

Not until he was assured that he wasn’t dreaming did he withdraw from the embrace. “How are you here?”

“I was assigned as navigator,” Yeosang explained, laughing in amazement. “The better question is how you ended up here. Weren’t you looking for San?”

All the air went out of Wooyoung and he hunched in on himself, the action cautioning Yeosang to tread lightly. “I was tracking him,” Wooyoung admitted quietly. “But I was pressganged onto this bucket of bolts with no way off in the foreseeable future—”

He was interrupted by Woosung clearing his throat. Having forgotten he was there, Wooyoung beckoned him over with a sigh for introductions.

“Yeosang, my brother Woosung.”

If Yeosang had been amazed earlier, he was astonished now. “The same brother you always talked about?”

“You talked about me?” Woosung teased with a wicked grin on his face for once. Wooyoung jabbed him in the ribs and nudged Yeosang into the wardroom so they could catch up in peace.

“I’ve been meaning to escape,” he told him quickly. “So it’s a good thing we ran into each other when we did. Now we can work together.”

“Except for the fact that we don’t know where we’ll end up,” Yeosang pointed out as he sunk into a chair. “I’m not keen on running straight into enemy territory.”

“Unless San is there,” Wooyoung corrected him quickly.

“It’s still suicide,” Yeosang warned softly. “All I know for now is that we accompany the Crow from Panhang to intercept the Haemin fleet.”

“The Black Crow,” Wooyoung groaned as he was reminded, pulling up a chair opposite Yeosang. “What if the Admiral sees us? Don’t you think he’ll jump at the opportunity to kill us off? It shouldn’t be too difficult to frame as a casualty of war. I say we jump ship before we reach Panhang.”

“He won’t while my father is with him,” Yeosang insisted. “Father may hate me but he doesn’t want me dead, that would mean the end of his family name.”

Wooyoung thought back to the last night they’d seen one another, the lantern light bouncing off gentle waves in the harbour, the dark scowl on the Head Navigator’s face.

“How... how have things been between you?” He asked hesitantly, not expecting anything good.

“It’s over between us,” Yeosang scoffed. “I’m not speaking to him unless I have to.”

And hopefully, that day would never come.

“Wooyoung, I...” Yeosang began again after a companionable moment of silence. “I have bad news.” There was no point in putting it off.

His voice was witheringly soft, and he looked like the slightest noise could put him over the edge.

Under the table, Wooyoung’s legs began to shake. Not trusting his voice, he simply nodded for Yeosang to go on.

“I went to see Seonghwa’s coronation at the palace, and he told me about the execution. He told me, well... he heard that...”

“Hongjoong’s dead, isn’t he?”

Because if Wooyoung couldn’t say it out loud, he would never begin to accept it.

Yeosang simply exhaled shakily and inclined his head ever so slightly like the weight of the world was upon his shoulders. He didn’t want to accept it either.

Wooyoung knew he had pessimistic leanings due to his upbringing, but there had remained a spark of hope in him. When he considered how many people the information came to him through, or when he considered Hongjoong’s own confidence that he would make it out alive... it didn’t seem possible that he could live in a world where this was the truth.

He couldn’t live in a world without him.

The feeling that rushed in on receiving the confirmation of his worst fears, fears that he had pushed to the far corner of his mind to avoid dealing with, was a strange and disquieting mixture of pain, loss, and relief.

Relief that he could drop his head into his hands and shake with tears without being bothered for it. Relief that he was no longer waiting on bad news to catch up with him all while running away from it. Relief that he wouldn’t have to deliver such news himself.

“How could this happen...”

Such an undignified end after everything he’d survived already. Wooyoung wished he had been there.

“I don’t know,” came the hushed and helpless answer. “I can only hope Mingi, Yunho, Jongho, and San are safe and far away from this war like Hongjoong wanted them to be.”

Hongjoong had told them to save themselves, and they had ended up on a warship anyway.

Those agonising days in the prison at Namhae drifted back into memory while Wooyoung dried his eyes.

The wind on the beams continued to blow while Yeosang settled down, gently taking Wooyoung’s hands in his and inspecting them. There was a cold emptiness inside now that the message had been relayed.

“You’ve healed,” he noticed aloud, voice soft yet discernable over the outside gusts.

Wooyoung nodded and shifted to get a better look at his friend. “Have you?”

Yeosang startled and almost pulled away, but Wooyoung kept his grip on him. “I— yes, you know I did. Nothing was broken.”

Still he couldn’t escape Wooyoung’s knowing eyes. Not after everything they’d been through.

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted after a moment. That much he could promise, now that they’d found each other.

...

The ever present fog made it difficult, but Yunho kept his eyes peeled for ships. Regardless of what colours they were flying, they were enemies, and that meant caution was of the utmost importance.

The plan was relayed to the men who waited, ready to cast off at a moment’s notice, and the four officers set out for the beach. The maze would be a hindrance to deal with, but it was better than docking at the town on the other side of the island and potentially being spotted by soldiers.

The shore batteries had been bombarded by Mingi’s counterattack on their last visit, which made them a perfectly unsuspecting vantage point to keep watch from.

Jongho scaled the stone steps of the bell tower, half of which was decimated, and borrowed Yunho’s spyglass. “I’ll put up a flag if I see anything,” he assured them. “No flares. Don’t want to give away our position.”

Although loath to leave him alone, it was best to finish the mission quickly, so the other three hurried down to the tree line and fought their way through the vines until they reached the entrance to the maze.

“Far right path,” Mingi instructed immediately, remembering how Hongjoong said he got in last year. The maze was only slight less well kept than it had been in Seonghwa and Yunho’s memory, occasional branches jutting out at awkward angles and bush roots stretching across their path.

It sent a strangle tingle down their spines to return to such a memorable and significant place under wildly different circumstances.

The wrought iron gate was unlocked but closed when they reached it, and Seonghwa rested his hand on the bars before pushing gently and hoping it wouldn’t squeak. Eyes widening, Seonghwa suddenly threw his arm out and pressed back into the shrubbery. Yunho and Mingi followed, confused but obedient, until he explained.

“Soldiers in the courtyard.”

“Now what?” Yunho groaned. “We can’t risk gunfire if we don’t know how many are inside.”

“There should be a secret library somewhere on the third floor,” Mingi wracked his brain for a solution and took a step back to scan the building in front of them again. The top was just visible over the towering greenery.

“There!” He exclaimed, grabbing Seonghwa’s arm. “A sunroof. We can rappel down.”

Seonghwa sighed but nodded, watching intently and waiting for the soldiers to go back inside for dinner.

It was only about ten minutes, but it felt like longer. Listening to their idle conversation was mildly amusing until the men dropped off into silence, but soon they had shut themselves into their hall and the courtyard was free.

“Here,” Yunho grunted, throwing the rope until it latched on to a ceiling tile and handing it to Mingi, who looked surprised. “You suggested it!”

Begrudgingly, Mingi grasped the rope in his hands and began to climb, Yunho and Seonghwa following silently.

They had to mind the windows, but made it onto the roof safely, Mingi popping open the sunroof panel and securing the rope to the inner latch while he waited.

After a thorough scan of the inside, what appeared to be a bedroom, all three lowered themselves stealthily, only breaking face when a figure in the room startled and tipped over in his reading chair.

“Maddox? It’s alright, we’re friends of Hongjoong’s!” Mingi panted, holding out his hand.

“Mingi?” The older man hissed in disbelief as he peeled out from behind the chair.

“Yes, it’s me. We’re here to rescue you.”

...

“It’s Lucky.”

“Look! There he goes.”

“The lucky prisoner...”

Hongjoong ignored the hushed whispers all over the main deck and the way the freezing wind nipped at his nose, but tilted back his head and let it toss his hair. It didn’t matter what they said.

Even a sea breeze that stung your cheeks was a sea breeze, and no one could take the moment away from him.

Byun was at his elbow, a guilty sort of tension emanating from him as he guided the prisoner up to the quarterdeck where Admiral Kim stood and looked down his nose at the both of them. A man Hongjoong assumed was Head Navigator Kang stood to his left. From his familiar features and general air of displeasure, he had a feeling he was correct.

“So I hear you need my help,” Hongjoong smirked, voice quiet but deadly.

Kim just scowled at him, white-rimmed lips pressed firmly together until he snatched the charts from Navigator Kang, rolling them open and casting his eyes away.

“Our spies report mass shipbuilding behind Haemin borders, but none of our fleet have encountered more than two ships at a time,” Kim explained, indicating the locations of the attacks on the map.

They were all lined up along the trade routes, concentrated to the east around the rim of the nearest Jaecho colonies.

As Hongjoong moved to get a closer look, he enjoyed the way the Admiral visibly became irritated by the jangle of his chains.

He was no longer bolted to the floor but his arms were still restrained and as much as Kim was annoyed by the sound, he wasn’t stupid enough to unlock the cuffs and risk an escape attempt.

“Their strategy is to wear you out with unpredictable strikes along the islands,” Hongjoong surmised as he inspected the charts. “If one ship goes down, it’s replaced by another. They won’t form ranks like you, they’re much more... surreptitious.”

“Then why focus on the colonies? They made it all the way to the capital once, why not march in again?” Kim bit out, yanking the map back over to his side of the table. Kang gently collected it, as if afraid in his anger the Admiral might shred the thing.

“To spread you thin. To wear you out, starve you, frustrate you,” Hongjoong listed off. “Safe access to trade routes and supplies is vital— I should know!” After all, he was usually the person disrupting them.

“So you’re saying we should engage their puny boats in the east instead of strike their homeland and end the war in one fell swoop?” Kim challenged, stepping closer and waiting for the prisoner to back down.

He didn’t.

“Unless you want to lose your territory, yes.”

The two stared each other down and no one else dared move, not even the anxiously hovering Byun whose idea the entire encounter was, until a bird appeared on the horizon and landed atop the rigging, a case attached to its leg.

Lieutenant Park climbed up to retrieve it and handed it to the Navigator, ending the standoff.

“A messenger bird with correspondence. A convoy of Haemin ships has been sighted just south of the colonies,” Kang reported, passing the scroll to the Admiral. Not even glancing at Hongjoong, he began orders.

“We have the heading, it’s time to move.”

There was a suppressed exhilaration that bubbled up inside Hongjoong when the Crow went underway.

It was that feeling he missed, when there’s one rope between you and the ocean— you and death.

He was joined by Park while he stood at the railing, reaching his chained hands down to feel what misty spray he could.

“What is it?” Hongjoong finally asked when the lieutenant had gone an uncharacteristic full five minutes without talking.

“I saw it in the correspondence...” he muttered nervously, eyes on the Admiral’s back to make sure he wasn’t paying attention. “Our enemies aren’t just interrupting trade and taking over island colonies.”

Hongjoong pulled back and looked at him, confused. Park was shaking his head helplessly but delivered the bad news nonetheless.

“They think Prince Seonghwa is with us, and they’re looking for him, to- to kill him.”

...

Due to the trust he had gained on the Haemin ship over the past few weeks, San almost felt sad to be leaving them soon.

Almost.

When land was only a few hours off, he concocted a sleeping draught with supplies from the infirmary and told his translator it was medicine for a patient. It was a strong enough brew to knock out his guards long enough for him to swim to shore.

Regardless of how he felt about his imprisonment, San wasn’t a monster. He ensured that all his patients were cared for in the meantime, working tirelessly to lower fevers, hack off limbs, and clean wounds. They would all survive in his absence, and he didn’t leave until he was sure of that fact.

Except for the loneliness, it almost felt like being home. Why he had ever considered leaving the ATEEZ back in the day was a mystery to him now. All that pain and regret from his previous trip to these parts had washed away long ago.

San didn’t know where along the road he’d lost his purpose, but he needed to return to the road to get it back, wherever it ended up taking him.

This cramped, stinking warship was not the right place.

He had hoped for so long that his mysterious pursuer was Wooyoung, and that Wooyoung would find him. And then he had gone too far, farther than he could follow. If he was lucky, perhaps Wooyoung hadn’t given up on him yet.

Sudden noise from the main deck prompted him and his translator to join the soldiers outside.

“Land,” the man told him redundantly as they watched the speck grow larger.

San knew it well.

It was Maddox’s Island.

...

Introductions were quick, and without even knowing why, Maddox was instructed to pack his things as quickly as possible.

“Why didn’t you just use the door?” He scoffed as he shoved some loose change into a bag. “Hongjoong has been here once, he should’ve showed you.”

Silence penetrated the room and slowly Maddox turned around, noting his absence.

“Where is he, then? Hongjoong?”

“Killed by Admiral Kim,” Seonghwa told him, solemn and ice cold in his delivery. “A few months ago.”

Maddox needed to sit down again.

“But he— he wasn’t...” he shook his head to collect his thoughts. “He was on his way to find Eden, Kim should never have gotten his hands on him.”

“Actually...” Yunho sighed. “We did find Eden. We were on our way back to the mainland because of Babylon, who I think you’ll remember.”

Maddox’s face darkened, even as his eyes betrayed his distress, like he didn’t know who to blame for this. “You came here for me?” He suddenly realised, brows raising halfway to his hairline in shock.

“It’s what he would have wanted,” Seonghwa explained. “We’re breaking out as many of his friends as we can find and starting fresh far away from the Navy.”

“Well, I certainly won’t keep you waiting,” the older pirate scoffed before collecting a few more of his things and glancing at the rope still hanging from the ceiling. “I suppose that’s also our way out.”

“The soldiers won’t spot us that way,” Mingi explained as Yunho and Seonghwa headed up, motioning for Maddox to follow and then bringing up the rear. With practiced ease, they descended the side of the tower and made their way across the courtyard.

“We make for your ship?” Maddox asked in a whisper.

Mingi nodded. “It would be ideal to get out of here without anyone even knowing.”

Just as he finished speaking, the boom of gunfire blasted to their right near Jongho’s position. Mingi grasped his gun and searched frantically for the decimated bell tower.

A red flag was hanging.

“So stupid,” he chided himself through gritted teeth. “How could I forget to check?”

Before anyone could stop him, he barrelled ahead and raced to the tower, hoping against hope that he would reach Jongho in time.

The disorienting fogginess of the maze slowed him down significantly, and by the time he reached the shore there was an unconscious Jongho, being dragged away by enemy soldiers.

“Hey!” Mingi screamed across the beach, aiming his weapon. “Let him go and I won’t kill you.”

The soldiers looked surprised to see him and debated with each other in a foreign language. Mingi realised with a jolt that they were from Haemin. He clicked off the safety but hesitated.

I should just shoot now.

Jongho had been dropped in the sand and Mingi’s hairs stood on end. Where were the others? Had they fallen so far behind?

He was out of time.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers drew his gun and fired.

Unable to move completely out of the way in time, Mingi dodged to his right even as the searing pain of a bullet grazing his face sent him to the ground.

Blood was pouring into his eye, so all he could see was red that wilted into consuming black and the flashes of pulsating with pain.

Through his remaining eye, he watched Jongho be rowed away onto an enemy ship while he was left for dead.

...

San expected to be sent to his battle station where he could drug whoever happened to be guarding him at the time and slip away in the chaos.

Instead, he was led down to the brig again with some of the other prisoners to watch through the portholes as a pair of men rowed out to investigate the island themselves.

What he gathered from the others was that their captain thought the island looked to be deserted or destroyed in some other battle and assumed no one would be there.

A very foolish move, one San should’ve expected from the incompetent drunkard. In this world, it should always be shoot first, ask questions later.

For a good half hour nothing happened, until a red flag went up in one of the bell towers and the action began in earnest.

To San, it was a relief.

Easily, he overpowered the guard and forced the draught down his throat, collecting the supplies he’d lain out in the infirmary while everyone was distracted, and preparing to lower himself in one of the longboats while the returning spies rushed their new prisoner on board.

Something deep inside told San to turn his head before he pulleyed down, and so he did. In a lightning flash, his heart dropped.

The unconscious body was Jongho’s. San didn’t know how or why, but it was him.

He didn’t question for a moment whether to abandon his plan. San threw off his bag and ran towards the chained figure.

Escape would have to wait.

...

Taglist: @serendipityunho @celestial-yunho @atzjjongbby @89staytinyzen21

A/N: I’m very close to the finish line of the semester, so I’ll be back in my usual swing in the next week or so, no worries :) There’s some shifting going on this chapter, and a lot of action is about to go down next time hehehe so stay tuned and let me know what you thought!! Happy birthday Wooyoung and Happy Thanksgiving ;)

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swixtern · 4 years

Text

In attempt to get back into writing, here's

A bit about my Arthurian anthology (retelling) that nobody asked for:

Whispers: it's going to be a mess... sorry... It's also long and out of order...

Ambrosius was poisoned by Uther, his brother by their father’s second wife

Uther is a shape-shifter and Gwrlais studied magic while fostering under Consul Aurelius

Igraine is Jewish. I don’t know; it just feels right. And she’s a proven warrior (her sisters, too).

Anna is Gwrlais’ eldest, then Elaine, then Morgan

Merlin puts Arthur in a brothel (I’m sorry, but I really enjoyed that idea from King Arthur: Legend of the Sword)

Uther’s next, and only other child, was named Anna, and she is not to be confused with Anna of Orkney

Arthur leaves the brothel at 14 after he turns Cai (who is 17) in to the city guard for whatever crime he’s committed; Sir Ector comes to inquire after him, intrigued by the boy, and takes him away with him when his secret heritage is made known

Cai is acting out due to his father, Cynyr Ceinfarfog, and mother, Sir Ector’s currently unnamed sister (probably named Elaine 😂 *shot*🙃), being killed; Sir Ector is his uncle, and he loves him, but he’s frustrated and grieving

Arthur is called “Boy Rivers” until Sir Ector takes him in, giving him back the name Arthur; Cai calls him Wart every chance he can

Bedwyr is black and two handed at first; he and Arthur meet in battle against the Saxons and they become fast pals. Griflet is mixed race

Arthur stole pigs belonging to Mark, King of Cornwall; finds it hard to trust Arthur after that, even after Arthur pulls the sword Clarent from The Anvil™️

The sword Clarent is pulled from an anvil on a stone

There are three Guineveres: G1 mothers Arthur’s daughters; G2 dies within the first year; G3 mothers Amr and much later Loholt.

Arthur marries G2 when he becomes King of Logres after pulling Clarent; he’s approximately __ years old (I really need to find the timeline that I did... I think he was, like, in his thirties?)

Lancelot tries to repress his homosexuality. Galehaut encourages his exploration (but never pushes) but his duty to King and Country™️ keep him away a lot; the longer Lancelot is around Arthur, the more he falls in love with him, the more he represses it, the more he needs to convince himself he loves Guinevere. He’s a confused mess.

Lot is not the name of the King of Lothian (anymore; he dies), it’s Uen; when Mordred is 13, he curses his ‘father’ so that the world will forget the man’s name

May Day Massacre totally happened and that’s when Gawain uncovered his sun-powers

Geheris has Moderate-ID

Mordred spends his 14th birthday on a ship to Norway; he doesn’t see his family again until he’s 17 and he returns with strong Viking-ties

Most of the Orkney Clan look next to nothing alike: Gawain is big and strapping with red hair and freckles galore; Ywain has auburn hair and light freckling, he’s a bit narrow and willowy; Gravaine is built like a barn and pale like his father with black hair; Clarissant, Agravaine’s twin, shares his black hair and stocky build but she has freckles that covered her face; Soredamor has medium-brown hair, she’s the tallest and thinnest of the lot, but physically frail with a chronic cough; Geheris is stocky with black hair, a red beard, a ruddy skin tone, and freckles; Cai the Grumbler, or Calogrenant, has light brown hair and green eyes; Gareth is albino with mismatched eyes (one brown, one pale); Mordred’s hair is long and dark brown and his eyes match Arthur’s grey; Yvain has freckles and Urien's black hair and short stature; Morfydd has pale blonde hair, dark brown eyes, and is short and curvy

Tristan and Mordred are bros who adopt each other almost immediately

Gay Squad: Dinadan, Galehaut, Lancelot, Ywain, Calogrenant

Bi-Team: Galahad, Gawain, Lamo (Mordred’s servant), Bertilak, Mabon ap Modron

Aces: Morgan le Fay, Mordred, Ambrosius Aurelianus

Magic users: Uther Pendragon, Gwrlais, Morgan, Guinevere the Third, Myrddin, Mordred, Cwyllog, Iseult (Queen of Cornwall, Princess of Ireland), technically Tristan via harp, Gawain via solar power, technically Cai because giants

Tristan seems drunk when he’s sober and he knows elf-tunes; the court learned that the hard way when they heckled him one too many times and he magicked those of them who weren’t sent out of the hall into an orgy they never speak of

As much as Cai honestly loves being a knight, he's also got this secret passion for cooking and all things culinary; despite all his outward protesting of being Seneschal, he actually jumped at the chance, seeing it as a way to indulge his "little selfish interest" and to sort out all the riffraff trying to get in with Arthur

I’m about convinced that the Orkneys as a unit lean Slytherin and Pellinore’s family leans Griffindor; this is not the cause of the feud but a participating factor in why it keeps escalating as it does

G3 is technically a low(low low)-level earth goddess tied to the land (family of Welsh giants), and that's part of the reason she feels drawn to the men she's drawn to but her actions towards --and with-- them are her own

Guinevak is G3's twin in every way but mothering, magic, and looks; she's the rejected bastard who spends a lot of time with Mordred, Galahad, Calogrenant, and Tristan; envious of G3, Lynette, and Cwyllog --each for different reasons

Urien was first married to Modron (the relationship deteriorated after Mabon's abduction and she returned to Annwn) before patiently pressing suit to Morgan who eventually yields as "friends in matrimony". After Morgan chooses Accolon for a lover, Urien is upset but allows this, naming him as her personal knight

Urien does not do comfort. Ask Morgan and Anna about when they found out Uen had sent Mordred away and the mother was distraught

Bedwyr loses his right hand as penance for Arthur stealing King Mark's pigs.

Yvain is a bastard child sired by Urien on his steward's wife after Morgan and Accolon are... happy together

Anna of Orkney is... twisted up. She loves her children (a little... too much sometimes) and tries to do right by them but... well... yeah... it's... it's no bueno

Cai has super powers. Access giant-size, extra endurance, impervious to hot or cold, and heat-radiating hands

Uther is... terrible. He's the sorta worst, really. Seriously, the things he does

Eigyr is not passive in captivity; that does not mean things go well for her

Morgan was learning magic from Gwrlais and took his scrolls and books on the subject hostage after his death

Gwrlais' daughter Elaine (the one who marries Nentres) is devotedly Jewish like her mother and raises her children as such (such as Galeshin and Hoel).

Nentres adores Elaine in marriage and even before that took his vows as her knight and betrothed seriously; he carries whipping scars on his back (from Uther) for trying to rescue Morgan from a monastery in her name. He tells Arthur later that he bears them proudly

Cai's parents are dead because of Uther (I can't remember how) and Sir Ector's father was a Roman soldier who stayed behind

Mordred is technically Melehan's step-father (he's a bastard by rape) but only Mordred and the mother know. They don't talk about it

Elaine of Garlot has psychological damage from the things Uther has done to her family and others in front of her. She has no tolerance for violence and aggression.

Tristan has PTSD and severe depression; he's also an alcoholic

Nentres slowly poisoned Uther over the years with hemlock

Mordred's first wife is a Lothian common girl-turned-slave-turned-servant that he's known from childhood. Her name is Julianna, and her family name is Ruricius, coming from a Roman-merchant connection

Morgan has been locked in a monastery twice; she escapes the second time after Uther's death and runs into Urien for the first time

Urien owns the first claymore. His father had it made for him as joke but he's a pro now so, well, guess who has the last laugh?

Agravaine killed a Unicorn as a child; it's okay, Unicorns are kinda evil here and will straight-up murder you

Urien doesn't age, eat, or drink (he hasn't since Modron); he still looks super young, roughly 16-17. His younger brothers and later on his own children look older than him

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teamhook · 4 years

Text

A Chapter a Day... Savage Heart CS AU

A love story between a pirate and his savior. An innocent, beautiful, selfless woman meets a man with no manners, no formal education and not even a last name. Will Emma fall in love with Killian once she discovers that beneath his tough exterior lies a heart-wild, but a heart of gold? This is a Captain Swan AU

Beta-ed by the awesome @ilovemesomekillianjones

Cover by @xhookswenchx

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 16: Relic of Lost Love

Archie can't believe his good fortune as he looks at the sight before him. While scouring the town and its surrounding areas in search of a house for Killian and Emma, he had come across the ring that Brennan had gifted Madeline during their affair, while at an Estate sale. It wasn't a surprise that the ring had been disavowed. He knew that John must have found the ring and sold it for a good amount of money to pay for his vices. John was a greedy man that no doubt had noticed the value of the ring as soon as he laid eyes on it.

Archie had never approved of the relationship, he had told his friend many times but that is in the past. However, in this moment in time, he knows for a fact and beyond a reasonable doubt that the ring belongs in the possession of its true owner, their son Killian. Archie honestly hopes the ring will be the start of the beginning of a happy ending for both Emma and Killian; a new hope.

Perhaps the ring will be a symbol of bliss this time around and erase its past curse. He had known Brennan's feelings for Madeline were true; sadly they had fallen into an all-too-common affliction around those parts, not to mention bad timing and unfortunate circumstance. The ring had been meant as a pledge that only ended up being a broken promise of love. It was the other half of a set; he gave her the beautiful engagement ring and Brennan kept the bands in hopes of someday making it a reality. Archie knew of his friend's wishes to someday make Madeline his wife, sadly it was not meant to be.

Madeline Jones family was considered upper-middle class and she was an only child. She had married John Long due to her father's demand; growing up, her mother had been her only ally and had died some years prior, so she had no other choice but to follow her father's instruction.

John Long was an ambitious merchant that seemed to be destined for greatness. Not long into the marriage, he had proven to not be the match that her father had hoped for. Sadly, the prediction never came true. He drank away his riches with whores and the small inheritance Madeline had received upon her father's sudden death not long after her nuptials was long gone too.

Madeline had met Brennan Booth two years into her marriage and had fallen madly in love with him but she knew that John would not let her go; especially because they shared a young son, Liam. She found out of her pregnancy with Killian after their affair had ended. She had tried to reach out to Brennan in hopes of a dashing rescue for her and her children, only to come face to face with his new high-class, pregnant wife.

Madeline knew that once upon a time she would have been considered a good match for Brennan; her family at the time was far from being destitute by any means, that is until her husband got a hold of anything of value and squandered it away. If only she had met Brennan first.

Madeline had finally accepted her life, and with it, the shame of her youngest son not having his father's name. Not knowing that her husband knew of her affair and had denied Killian his last name.

Archie had never had a problem with Madeline but the circumstance that engulfed her relationship with Brennan which left much to be desired. He had helped Brennan acquire the ring, a token of devotion for his forbidden love, to have whenever she couldn't be with him. The ring was a platinum 2.5 rose-cut diamond, flanked by two baguettes with the inscription 'eternally yours'. He knew that his friend truly would be hers eternally but alas, it was time to admit that they would never be free to be together.

Once his marriage to Cora became a reality, Brennan had no choice but to end all ties with Madeline. The last bond he had were the wedding bands he had so foolishly purchased to match her engagement ring. He didn't have the heart to completely make them disappear and instead he gave the rings to Archie for safe keeping. Unbeknownst to Brennan, she was already pregnant with Killian, his first-born and eldest son.

Like father like son, Archie thinkst as he shakes his head in disappointment. They are both good men that sometimes don't listen to their hearts. Brennan had loved Madeline and instead of fighting for their love, he simply accepted the arranged marriage to Cora. He had seen the interaction between Killian and Emma when they talked to him about their relationship. It had felt so honest, so real. It could not all be lies. Yet neither man was willing to fight for the love they had in front of them.

Archie is too upset and doesn't realize at the time of his altercation with Killian that he never mentioned the rings. Before boarding the ship to Arendelle to rendezvous with David Nolan, he spots a messenger that he knows Killian trusts well, and quickly writes a note for Killian with the exact location of the rings and the house.

Killian lingers at the tavern after Archie leaves. He knows he's disappointed Archie and he is still trying to make sense of what had happened. He had told Smee the truth, but that did not mean he did not care for Emma. There is no way he would admit to anyone, much less himself that perhaps there is more to this tale.

After receiving the note from Archie, Killian leaves the tavern. He ventures into Archie's office and follows the instructions that should lead him to the objects he is searching for. He's standing inside the organized office with the paperwork of the house Archie had purchased on his behalf; to be his new home. The house purchase includes furnishings and all that was left behind by the prior owner, Lady Lucas. It was meant to make the transition easier for all parties involved; especially easing the older woman's move to her granddaughter, Ruby Whale's home.

In his other hand lays a ring with an inscription and wedding bands. The irony is that he had just asked Smee to find him rings. The ring with the inscription feels familiar, somehow. The engagement ring is beautiful and he knows it will be perfect for Emma. He chooses to ignore the inscription for now, refusing to acknowledge the reason for his thoughts.

Killian Jones next heads to the part of town that as a young boy he never would have thought one day he would call home. The difference in class is obvious, even to the blind. The roads are not made of dirt and gravel, the houses are grander, too. As a boy, he wished to live in one of those houses, filled with love unlike his own.

Walking to the address listed on the paperwork, he eventually finds himself standing in front of the house that is meant to be his new home with Emma. Today is the day that his childhood wish becomes a reality, he stands in front of a house that is his, the house Emma and he will make into a home.

The house in front of him is a beautiful white-washed cobblestone, two-story, gated house. The neighboring houses are at a distance that provides seclusion and privacy to each homeowner. Their new home is surrounded by sky-reaching trees and possesses a well-lived home feeling to it. Around the corner, it has a direct entrance to a beautiful balcony of what appears to be the main living quarters by means of stairs that seem to snake around the side towards the backyard.

The house appears to be modest but upon closer inspection, it is bigger in size than the other houses in the immediate neighborhood. Yet it is not exactly as large as what Emma had grown up in, but he still has a feeling that she will love it.

As he explores the property, he is stopped in his tracks by a breathtaking garden with flowers of so many vibrant colors. He can smell the flowery, sweet, fresh aromas mixing together into a perfect floral natural fragrance. The flower beds are comprised of some easily recognizable flowers, like red and pink middle mists and bright white and yellow buttercups. Then there are others he doesn't recognize because he's not exactly a is an added bonus since he knows Emma enjoys gardening.

The house and its surrounding property is encased by trees and grass all around. The trees provide the perfect amount of shade and an earthy crisp smell. He can picture them taking walks around the large backyard together whilst she picks flowers to brighten the house with the sweet smell of blossoms that overpower the soft scent of the morning's dewy grass.

He finally finishes his inspection and heads back to the estate with a bright smile on his face.

The wedding is almost upon them. He has kept busy with his duties as steward and his new business. Michael Thomas seems to have taken to the business almost instantly and has proven to be an asset to Killian, despite his instant dislike for Smee.

Smee seems to rub everyone the wrong way. He may be a pirating rodent but he had been loyal, and for that, Killian would always be thankful.

Despite his excitement for their new home, Killian has been distant with Emma since returning to the Booth house following the incident with Archie. He is avoiding her all in name of self-preservation, but he misses her.

Emma has hardly seen Killian since their talk with Archie. She is busy organizing for the wedding with help from Cora. She would have preferred her mother's help but Snow has yet to soften towards the idea of the marriage.

Cora has helped her obtain her gown and a very simple yet beautiful negligee. The impending wedding night is starting to make her a nervous wreck. She can still hear Milah's words, "The poor thing wouldn't know what to do to captivate and maintain any man's attention, even if her life depended on it," echoing in her mind.

On top of all she's had to endure at her cousin's selfishness, there is more; she has to add insult to injury, because in her near future she is going to be competing with Milah once more, since Milah had shared a bed with Killian. Her cousin must be a great lover since Killian had been so eager to get her back. She would dwell on that later, but for now, she has other priorities.

With the wedding quickly approaching, she has talked to Mother Superior tells her that they need to meet with the priest to go over final details and submit baptism certificates and so on.

Emma wonders if there will be a problem because he only has his mother's last name? It doesn't bother her, but will it be an obstacle?

She worries about Killian backing out at the last moment, the thought of him rejecting her scares her more than it should given that her first betrothed left her for her cousin.

Emma has to calm down her nerves. She knows that the wedding is but a mere arrangement, but sometimes she can't stop herself from experiencing feelings that do not align to those of a business transaction. Emma glances in his direction when she thinks no one is watching. She misses their camaraderie.

As the wedding grows ever closer, Emma and Killian are ignorant to the meddling going on beneath their noses. News of their impending wedding is about to reach Milah and August on their honeymoon trip, courtesy of Snow Nolan.

After the failed attempt to get a message to David regarding the nuptials, Snow sent Enith on a new mission to get the missive to Milah and August.

Archie smiles as he steps off the vessel that has brought him to Arendelle. He looks around the docks, trying to find the familiar face of his friend. He waves hello when he sees David Nolan.

"Hello, old friend! How have you been?"

Archie smiles while looking around, "Great and happy to finally be here. It is a nice place you have found and made into a second home." The two make small talk as the leave the port and head to David's, but. Archie finds himself in a dilemma; should he tell David of the wedding expected to take place within days at Misthaven?

As the two sit down, David wastes no time in getting to the important questions. "Tell me about my family. Are they happy?"

Archie looks around the small dining room, choosing his words before he speaks. Offering his friend a genuine smile, he starts, "Milah is on her delayed honeymoon, she and August are traveling." He averts his eyes as he reports the next part. "Snow hasn't been in the best health."

David sighs and with downcast eyes tries to hide his guilt. "And my Princess? My little duckling, is she okay?"

Archie is obviously uncomfortable with the question his friend has asked, even though he had expected it. He knows of his friend's love for his family, especially his daughter. "I enjoyed her company at the Booth estate and she was positively radiant, she glowed."

David is happy to hear that. "Tell me; was she not too heartbroken over the betrothal being canceled and that idiot marrying her cousin? I was never happy with that match."

Archie considers mentioning the wedding but reconsiders swiftly since he has no idea if Killian took his advice. He opts for giving his friend some good news. "I believe her heart has healed from the horrible experience with August, she is living temporarily at the Booth estate with her mother. She has reconsidered taking the vows."

David is confused about the living arrangements. "Why are they staying at the Booth estate?"

Archie unconsciously shifts in his seat and looks at his empty cup and then there is a knock on the door. "Should I get that?"

David quickly gets on his feet and goes to the door. There stands one of the most honored captains in the Arendelle Navy and his adoptive nieces, Liam Long.

"Archie, please allow me the honor of introducing Captain Liam Long of the Arendelle Navy." David stands proudly next to the young man.

"Liam Long?" Archie says as he carefully peruses the young man, he holds a resemblance to someone, but at the moment he cannot say who.

Liam stands there and without knowing, his right-hand goes to scratch behind his ear. Archie doesn't miss the action and that is when the realization hits him. "It is so nice to meet you, young man. I'm sorry; do you happen to have any family in Misthaven?" Archie knows that this is Killian's brother. He remembers the name now and his conversation with Killian.

David and Liam are a little confused by Archie's question.

"I apologize; I believe I know your younger brother, Killian Jones." Archie carefully smiles as he notices recognition in the young man's face.

"Yes, he is my brother." Liam avoids David's gaze for a moment before mouthing, "I'll explain later."

After the girls go off to entertain themselves, the three men sit back down at the table. "Archie, you have yet to answer my question." David stares at his friend awaiting his answer.

"Snow moved in with Milah to the Booth Estate because of her health, Emma was still at the convent at that time. It was only temporarily so she wouldn't be left alone." Archie cannot help but glance at Liam. He doesn't see much resemblance between Killian and Liam, but the eyes are Madeline's. The brothers share their lovely mother's piercing blue eyes.

"David, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind my company on your trip back to Misthaven. I wanted to surprise my brother." Liam waits for an answer as he looks around the room.

"Sure, we would be happy to have you. Archie, is this Killian the one you are here on behalf of?" David gets up to put a new kettle of tea to enjoy.

"Yes, he is starting a small business much like yours. I thought the two businesses would fit." Archie takes the offered cup.

"Liam, did you know of this?" David hands a cup to him.

"Killian's existence was recently revealed to me. I know nothing of his business endeavors," Liam admits as he adds a bit of sugar to his tea.

"The name sounds so familiar to me." David sits down with his own cup and gestures for Liam to pass the sugar.

Liam and Archie share a look that the third man completely misses.

August unfolds the missive and reads the message aloud. "Milah, please, come home soon. Emma and the new steward are to marry. Help me stop my daughter from making this mistake. With Love, Aunt Snow."

The message had been intended for his wife but it was an obvious cry for help. He is confused with his conflicting feelings, because not long ago he would have applauded the union, but to be honest he never truly thought Emma would accept Killian Jones' advances.

August feels wounded by the news of the swiftness with which he has been replaced in Emma's heart. Milah cannot hide her anger and wrath. Killian is crazy if he thinks he is going to betray her; especially with her cousin of all people.

August is too busy lost within his own thoughts to contemplate his wife's obvious ire at the news.

Tagging:

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776

#Captain Swan #cs ff #teamhook SavageHeart #CS Crew #CS Mafia

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lisettefoix · 4 years

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INSIDE LISETTE DU POITIERS MIND - task 40 psyche.

tw misscarrige, tw childhood trauma, tw child abuse.

Lisette, as much of a wanderer as she’s always been, as a few places in her mind she dares not cross. Closed gates with roseless thorns growing around them closing in, or perhaps keeping others out, all that she would rather forget. While she will over think minuscule moments of her life down to the smallest gesture she dares not recall her time at the hospital when she was 22 and no longer pregnant or her father's handprint on her face the one time she dared to talk back to him.

Lisette’s early life was made of rules and closed-off spaces. While most royal and noble children had paths laid out for them from an early age, Lis and her brother had little more than a room. There was no room for growth in the du Poitiers house - there was simply the right way to do things. And consequences for those that did them wrong. This lead to an unhealthy focus on appearances for the young girl, and a need to be perfect in every way.

As young children they were often left alone, the only other person in the house other than their parents (in the few instances they were there) was the cook, Mrs. Carmèle, who doubled as the nanny, for Saint Croix had long blown through the family money. Mrs. Carmèle was a smiling short figure, who had to be about 70 by the time they were born and could do little else around the house other than cook. But her family had lived on the farm surrounding Château de Gudanes for as long back as anyone cared to look, generations of fathers as steward and mothers as cooks, daughters as maids or nannies and sons as valets or horseman, along with dozens of other people serving her family.

But those times were long gone, even her father barely remembering them from his own childhood. Mr. Marien, Mrs Carmèle late husband, had died when Lisette and Alphonse had barely begun school and hadn’t worked in the house since the time they learned to crawl. And so only Mrs. Carmèle lasted, singing in the early morning as she baked bread, and telling stories in the afternoon as she knitted. The children weren't happy, but those short moments - of sitting at the old wooden kitchen eating warm bread with butter weren’t the only moments Lisette and Alphonse were ever truly children. She’s the reason Lisette ever learned kindness and empathy for others, even if these layers are often masked by more prominent family traits.

The only time they were ever all four in the same place was Sunday mass. The one time they were the perfect family. For all his peculiarities Saint Croix feared god more than most mortal men. And Florence had been brought up a devout catholic so she amused her husband in this one quirk. No matter what was happening in the house they were a family on Sunday morning. Her mother’s episodes lifted, her father’s anger subsided and her and Alphonse were expected to do just the same. You left problems at the door of the church. For God sees all and will punish you for any wrong thought.

The rest of the time was filled with tutors, for no matter how poor Saint Croix got he would rather die than send his children to school. Not only for the embracement of mingling with those so far beneath them but lest it put ideas in their minds. Once they were past the basics, reading and writing and math and music, the twins were separated. Different roles called for different classes. Alphonse learned history and politics and all he needed to one day become the head of a duchy. Lisette was trusted into etiquette and learned just enough of everything to make a pleasant conversation fit for a lady. This left them both lacking terribly well into their adult years and still affects Lis to this day. She has trouble looking at facts as part of a whole instead of simply different pieces of information. Can make a coercive long term plan. Lives life on a decision by decision basis. Alphonse had a horrible time in connecting to others on a personal level analyzing every situation, no matter how close to him, as if from a stranger's perspective. While charismatic in his own way he was an awful conversationalist in everyday matters and dealt horribly with plans being changed on him. This lead to a lot of their future misunderstandings.

Their childhood was also populated by a third force, their mother. Often lasting for days, Florence would get in depressive fits that would leave her locked in her room without eating or talking to anyone, followed by short highs where she would drink herself sick. The children were not only observers to this their whole life but often active participants. Either targets of their mother's rage or little nurses, taking her to bed when she passed out drunk in the stairway, or holding her hair back as she threw up in the tub. Lisette and Alphonse would often tag team staying awake during the worst nights to make sure she didn’t stop breathing or would have to force her medication on her when she refused.

Mrs. Carmèle lasted in the house until around their 11th birthday, by then to old to be of much help. The house was still cleaned, by the faceless maids who came and went in a van and treated them like they couldn’t be touched. Perfect porcelain children. By this age they had been almost fully shaped into the adults their parents wanted them to be - one at the image of their father and one of their mother.

Despite her father's best efforts thought - Lis learns patriotism and loyalty not from his forced lessons but from her cousins in Paris. Her and Alphonse are quite a bit younger than all of them - Giselle being the closest with a 6-year difference - making it easy to idolize them. Arnauld is charismatic and smart and a gentlemen or knight of the old stories in her eyes. Benoit kind and affectionate and as she grows older a close companion. Giselle fearless with a wit to her Lis dared not imitate at home. Her sense of loyalty is still forged to that childhood sense of wonder - she will find people who exhibit traits she’s been told are valuable and hang on to them. It’s very hard to come out of Lisette’s good graces once you entered it.

Her time in Hungary leads to two things - her general happy demeanor in life & the complicated relationship with her brother. Alphonse never quite forgave her for choosing to stay in Hungary almost full time past their 15th birthday. Yet Lisette there learned to be more relaxed and carefree. She was still the perfect lady when others were looking. But to have even the short-lived conversation with Levente where she could laugh out loud or be a somewhat normal teenage girl with Fanni were worth lifetimes to Lis. The closest thing she had ever had to it where the couple of times she had visited her cousins in Belgium, Louise a greatly welcomed friend in her youth.

The times she came home Alphonse was every time further and further from the boy she knew. At the time Lisette saw it has him becoming their father, cold and distance focused simply on himself and his ever so important work, the only difference was is distaste for women. Yet as Lisette grew older and further away from her house she understood that had simply been his way to escape their childhood. She had left. He had hidden in himself.

Her marriage at first feels like a small win. She had never tried to get closer to Akos, despite her time in Hungary being dependent on it, to focused on finally having the small freedoms she was allowed. Yet she created an image of him in her mind, the perfect husband from the few not conversations they had in their “courtship”. Married life, however, proved rough from the start. Ever great at holding her fantasies Lisette couldn’t help but be thrust into real-life at every point. He was no longer charming and mysterious - they simply knew nothing of each other, and her inability to voice her concerns or wishes lead her into the depressive states she had criticized her mother for her whole life.

Her mood only lifted when she feel pregnant. Lisette thrived in the idea of motherhood. To undo all her own childhood with a new life - in her young mind just another thing to get perfect. This just made her losing the baby a bigger blow. Still incredibly religious by this point in her life the loss of her baby felt like a curse, a punishment from god himself for her sins. That’s perhaps the biggest contributor to her running away. Not only is she unable to face others as a failure (for what’s a women's job at court but to give her husband’s family children) but for a genuine belief, she’s cursed. The news she’s later to find she’s infertile don’t help this vision of herself and to this day while she’s long past seeing it as her defining feature or a curse from God, she can’t help but feel less than other women for it.

Her time in Italy gives her a small taste of confidence and opens up old memories she never dared glace over before then. Mrs. Carmèle granddaughter Sophie who was just an year older than Lisette but laughed like the song of birds was in her throat, with long gold curls down her back. She used to fancy Alphonse but Lisette would blush every time she got close to whisper secrets at her ear in the afternoon sun. Or the pretty Hungarian she had pecked one during her first year there, a game late at night with giggling girls who had yet to find consequences. A child's kiss but one Lisette could feel in her lips for days after.

Gaia was her first love, perhaps the first person who truly saw her for all but her name. Her time with the Italian is short but marks her terribly. She’s unsure to this day if she would have survived that moment in her life without it and came out the other side not being just a broken shell, like her mother.

Her travels are where she learns who herself is, without the constraints of family or consequence. She’s now truly able to find her own way in life and explore the world to the fullest. She learns how to deal with emotions - instead of simply shutting them down and how to deal with conflict instead of simply running away or pretending it doesn’t affect her. It’s not instantaneous and there are setbacks. She’s not a perfect lover nor a perfect friend and she there’s a few relationships along the way that she could never fix - her brother being one of them. But during those years does one thing she was never allowed. She tries and fails and tries once more.

Meeting Stella, and the consequent relationship she gets out of it is a breath of fresh air simply because Lis gets to experiment with it. They don’t have anything concrete for a long time but there’s an air of eternal to their connection. Their encounters at first, the spontaneity of them, make it so they don’t squash Lisette’s slowly growing spirit. Anything to fast would have sent the girl she was running at the first sight of trouble. But, whether Stella realizes it or not, the year between their first meeting and their first official date make it not only founder in Lisette’s mind but make it so she’s actually ready for that type of commitment in her life. The reason she has trouble letting go of Stella now, is because Stella was never a constant before either. Lisette had to work on bettering herself to even have a chance at happiness with another person, and that didn’t come easy so she’s incredibly attached.

Alphonse’s death drops Lis off the edge she’d been climbing once more. She’s back at square one, and closing in on herself day by day. She’s more closed off once again, yet the free spirit hangs dormant beneath. She’s more willing to trust others than she would have been in her childhood but still has trouble creating deep connections with people outside the small circle of those she trusts.

#hshqtask039 #//i didn't proof read this nor will i #if i look at it for longer it will never get posted #not tagged but if you're character is closed to lis they're probably mentioned

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theaurorfileshq · 4 years

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J A C K M O N D A Y / A U R O R C A D E T

AGE: Thirty-Two

BADGE NUMBER: R72H31

BLOODSTATUS: Halfblood (No-Maj Paternal Grandmother)

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cisgender Man, He/Him

IDENTIFYING FEATURES: Bald eagle tattoo on left forearm, sun and moon tattoos on either side of chest. White hair streak along left temple.

STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

(+): Dueling Magic, Flying, Physical Combat

(-): Potions, Lack of Motivation, Tendency to Adopt Tunnel-Vision

BACKGROUND:

If one were to look at a summary of Jack’s life, they’d say he had everything a wizard could possibly want. That is at least, as long as that summary excluded this last year.

For most of his life, Jack had it fairly easy. He was a charming kid, with a wit that would make any great aunt blush, and a bone structure blessed with a good roll of the genetic dice. He had everything he ever wanted handed to him, with the simple reason being he fit in well with the standard All-American archetype. Look up “American Wizard” in any dictionary and you would find a picture of Jack beside it, with a list of accomplishments that any parent would be proud of.

His charm and good looks made him a popular student in his year. It didn’t matter that he barely opened a textbook, or used any of his studying time for actually studying, he was Jack Monday. He was the star of his house’s quodpot team, not to mention the Winter King three years running, and voted “Most Likely to Grace a Cover of Witch Weekly” for his senior superlative.

His grades were always mediocre at best, but his reputation outweighed any poor mark, or small misdeeds he may have gotten himself entangled in. After graduation he did precisely what was expected of him. He married his Ilvermorny sweetheart, Kerrigan Whitley, a spunky little witch who’d been his quodpot rival, and Winter Queen. Then came the auror academy, not because it was some great dream of his, but rather because it was expected of him. What other occupation after all, would be a better fit for the great Jack Monday than as a hero, laying his life on the line for the innocent?

Auror Academy came and went, he flourished there in his own right, not because he was the greatest dueler or had the strongest depth of knowledge, he just simply made the most friends when doing it all. After the academy came his position within the Indiana Auror Division in their Indianapolis Offices. And then came the next series of milestones. First, it was the birth of his daughter April, hair as fiery as her mother’s, and a nature almost too sweet to be a child of his. After April came his promotion from recruit to cadet, and then like clockwork came Max, every bit as ornery as his father with his mother’s inability to tell a joke without laughing through it. [X]

Life should have been great, and for a time it was. Fatherhood surprisingly suited him well, for someone who spent very little time around children beforehand, he had a great gift in handling them. His wife had often pointed out, rather endearingly, that it was because he himself was so much like a child. But that was long ago, back when she looked at him like he was everything she ever wanted him to be.

There is a difference between wanting and reality though.

His promotion to the Central Squad would ultimately bring about the beginning of the end. Jack, after years of following the script life seemed to have given him, suddenly grew wary of it. Being an auror wasn’t as glamorous as so many crime novels had made it out to be. It was hard work, that often involved grueling hours chasing leads that ultimately weren’t ones at all, and days spent fully immersed in uncovering humanity’s darkest secrets.

Jack had become an auror because it seemed like a good idea at the time, but he slowly began to hate the job. He started to feel trapped, not only in his job, but also in the home and life he shared with his wife. Time and separation slowly made them strangers to one another, and the love they once held decayed into a bitter thing. They began to resent one another for no longer being the teenager they fell in love with, and when life and raising children got difficult, they often found themselves squaring off against each other, instead of working through the difficulties together.

Feeling deprived of the adoration he once felt from his wife, Jack soon looked for it outside the marital bed, preferring to fill that need elsewhere then deal with the issues in his own marriage. Once he scratched that itch he found he couldn’t stop. After years of struggling in a job he no longer enjoyed, and a marriage that was slowly falling apart from lack of attention, suddenly he was feeling a little like himself again. Once again he was looked at like something to be desired, not necessarily a new thing, but now he could act on such impulses, and merlin... did it feel good.

And so began a string of affairs, none particularly sweeping romances by any stretch of the imagination, but more so filled an urge he had. Work would continue to be an arduous task, and to remediate that he began turning more and more to the comforting burn of a bottle of liquor. In a matter of months he’d taken what seemed like a perfect life, with a beautiful wife and children, and a job many would dream of, and ruined it for the sake of feeling something other than the ordinary.

The first domino to fall would be that of his marriage. As time wore on he grew more risky with his affairs, until one evening his wife had quite literally caught him in the act, after barging into a hotel room he’d rented on their shared credit account. Divorce would soon follow along with a custody agreement, giving him only two weekends a month with the children he’d inadvertently hurt the most in his selfishness.

His job would be next, although that domino wouldn’t particularly fall, but rather begin to wobble out of place. It was after the first complaint to his higher ups of him showing up inebriated to the job, when he was placed on probation, with a warning that two more strikes would result in his removal from the force.

Which is where Jack now finds himself today. Six months after his divorce, he’s taken up residency in a shabby apartment in the southern half of Port Steward, over-top a used wand shop. He is still under probation within the squad, with more eyes focused in on him, waiting for him to make those two last slip ups that’ll mean an end to his career. He doesn’t even want the job anymore, but losing it will mean Kerrigan will have enough reason to take full custody. And if there’s one thing he knows for sure he wants, it’s his kids, and being part of the childhood they still have left. If that means following the rules and being the good auror he’s supposed to be, then he’ll do his best, as much as he may not like it.

#jack monday #aurorx

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thaliatimsh · 5 years

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if its alright! wrt the 'directors commentary' asks, honestly anything /Anything/ for 'imperfect life', oof :0

ONE DVD COMMENTARY TRACK COMING UP BECAUSE HELL YES you may ask me about this one. GOD I HOPE THIS READ MORE WORKS OR I’M GONNA DIE OF SHAME. For those of you who’ve missed my pleas: imperfect life is on AO3 here. read it or i cry.

Okay I reblogged that post with not much of an idea about what I’d actually have to say but imperfect life is at least at the forefront of my mind lol

First things first I’d had an idea for a fic about Hodgson At Mutineer Camp that i wanted to write floating around my head for a while that was. I suppose centred on the sheer Betrayal of GIBSON YOU CHANGED MY SHEETS FOR THREE YEARS? WHAT THE FUCK? And as I did more research abt both of them and found that they’d been on ships together & that it was likely that either Hodgson or Peglar got Gibson his job? Fuckin wrote itself, especially seeing as in show-canon Bridgens is the Peglar Papers Steward.

Anyway I’ve said this before to everyone who’ll listen but I will say it again: I think Hodgson is misinterpreted & underappreciated by a lot of the fandom & it makes me SAD and also ANGRY.

Like: I once saw someone say that he was “mad about Jopson’s promotion, so fuck that guy”? NO. He MISSED Jopson’s promotion! He would have gotten a KICK out of Jopson’s promotion! You BASTARDS! Hickey picks on him SPECIFICALLY because he’s out of the loop! I’ll kill you!

Ham jokes? I’m coming to your HOUSE. man’s as ‘obsessed with ham’ as any self-respecting naval officer starving to death in the arctic

Then there’s the “Who is this?” being taken as some kind of a-okay for cannibalism instead of a guy who saw someone shot dead just last night and then spent the morning burying said dead'un being literally scared out of his mind by a greasy lil rat with a knife and Tozer blocking the tent flap with a fuckign RIFLE. DAMN YOU ALL.

Do I think he’s a complete FOOL? YES. Do I think he ever had any kind of malicious intent? NO. Okay anyway I’m gonna talk a bit more abt that later so let me go back to the next part lmao

So Part 2 of the George Henry Hodgson Saga was then to figure out why he had to go stay with his aunts - this ALSO came pretty straight to me, for whatever reason. I think it might have started off as just his parents pleasure jaunt, but as I was thinking about later scenes with Jimmy Fitzjas I came up with a thing abt - Im not gonna find the reference now but in the battersby book there’s a bit abt William Coningham going to take the waters at bath or whatever for Weak Lungs which OBVIOUSLY made me think of my favourite comsumptive Of All Time Fryderyk Franciszek Chopin & the countryside retreats he & his sister Emilia took for their symptoms as teenagers (and unforch Emilia died of tuberculosis aged just 14… rip)

ANYWAY I had some VAGUE idea that George n Fitz could have some kind of Passing Discussion abt Brothers With Shite Lungs that obviously never came to fruition but. Lol whatever, it gave me a reason for why My Parents Sent Me To Stay With Two Aunts.

UH. Right, so then like the third leg for this to stand on was that Fitzjames and Hodgson had ALSO served together & Fitzjames had: 1. recommended Hodgson to the expedition 2: mentioned him TWICE in his Voyage of the Cornwallis 3. Mentioned him in his letters to the Coninghams from disko bay (one of the only Terrors mentioned - there’s a passage abt Fitzjames going to look at the icebergs with Fairholme and Hodgson. ANYWAY; show-canon Hodgson has a sense of humour and I really think he tried to make the men see him as approachable, at least compared to the other Terror officers and that reminds me a lot of how the historical Fitzjames seemed from mystery man! Seeing as they KNew each other I think it’s not unfair to suggest that he’s trying to emulate an older and more successful officer! He wants to succeed! He wants to have fun and to be loved by The Men!

My friend said something very Prescient abt this to me recently which was that THere are a lot of similarities between Hodgson & Fitzjames and it’s kinda like. Fitzjames is the Ideal, and Hodgson just misses the mark. He’s the average man’s James Fitzjames and because he doesn’t know about Fitzjames’ surplus of political luck that only makes him feel more of a failure. Fitzjames gets a bullet that gets him compared to Lord Nelson, Hodgson gets in the gazette as ‘slightly wounded’. Even their monologues! Fitzjames gives a soul-baring confessional he’s never talked about before to someone he respects and he gets! Affirmation! Gets told that he’s a good man and brave and loved! Hodgson gives a soul-baring confessional he’s never talked about before to someone he respects and gets! FUCK ALL! A MAN SITS IN SILENCE! He has to fucking! Walk out alone after all of that! FUCK!!!

Okay so this whole fic just sat in my brain for probably like six months until I literally sat up in bed because I worked out the last piece of the puzzle

(Drac has an epiphany, July 4th 2019, colourised)

Which was, of course, 'Hodgson went to boarding school’ - which is what all of this ends up hanging off of! Boarding school culture! The younger years are servants for the upper years, who in turn are responsible for the younger students! including discipline etc so like… if a younger year brought something up to their “fag-master” it’d be sorted by them and maybe prefects, without getting schoolmasters etc involved.

WHICH is why George doesn’t tell the captains about what happens to Neptune, because he’s out here trying to be a good fag master and get it sorted himself! His own fag master fucked him over by getting the schoolmasters involved when they oughtn’t have been! He’s not about to be Archibald Harrington-Thurlowe! He’s not okaying the mutiny! He’s trying to minimise the damage *on his own* like a fuckin idiot!

IF YOU CALL HODGSON A MUTINEER I’LL COME TO YOUR HOUSE N MAKE YOU GET LOST AND ABANDONED AND END UP EATING YOUR BOOT BEFORE GETTING 'RESCUED’ BY THE SAME GREASY RAT WHO LITERALLY MURDERED YOUR PAL AND TRICKED YOU INTO SLAUGHTERING CIVILIANS! I’LL. I’M NOT HAPPY.

I’m just basically so upset about 'one perfect moment in a whole imperfect life’ being a childhood memory that he was taught to see as so shameful to compare it to cannibalism under duress? FUCK.

A whole imperfect life in GENERAL has me fucked up! He just kept trying and kept just missing what he was aiming for! I mean. That’s relateable. Not one part of a life turning out as you expected or planned? ME!!!! Your achievements add up to nothing and no matter how hard you try you end up a footnote! FUCK offfff

I had some difficulty with the religious angle for a while because. hm. okay. To start with the religious angle IN-CANON is just.... not correct. Catholics don't let you drink the blood. The church of england DOES... and that's what most of these men ARE. The Papist Speech as a whole was cobbled together from one of Crozier's ~Visions~ in the book - and it's important in that case that Crozier is IRISH... Poor analogy, writers! Putting aside that he was also... SEVEN... maybe he was an unusually tall seven-year old, people assumed he'd had first communion/been baptised & no one wanted to cause a fuss... I mean the guy has lead poisoning so it's fair to mis-remember but... YEAH. Messy, which is a shame because it's a powerful monologue very well-delivered, shame it's complete fucking nonsense 😂 (not to be like... SMH Americans but... smh Americans...)

Anyway, as I wrote it? that’s me. I wasn’t raised religious - my dad’s an old-school small-town Continental Catholic, my mum’s agnostic but raised CofE (but *her* dad was raised Jewish (also continental) during WW2), I think they couldn’t be fucked with the drama, I never went to church or anything and as a kid when we had prayers at school assembly I didn’t know what I was doing!!!! I felt bad because I couldn’t fathom God as a concept!!! I still can’t! But as a kid it’s like. I don’t understand and on account of that I’m afraid I’m going to Hell. tfw you write what you know.

ALSO there were definitely a couple of times where I wrote G H Hodgson as played by B W Wooster and I will not be taking constructive criticism on that.

ANYWAY My brain has kindof turned itself off now but I guess this is just. My own personal backstory to this jhsgfjhs. I actually probably have about 400x more to say but it’s fully evaporated. thank you SO MUCH for asking me though. i die.

#i tag #george hodgson #bc i love him #also #long post #that's my baby officer!#insane character essay tag

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once-a-turncoat · 5 years

Text

Too Much Information - Character Interview

Thanks @curiousartemis for sharing this questionnaire.

Filled out for the Dragonborn heroine of my Skyrim fanfic: The Bonds of Civility.

► Name ➔ Cecilia Ameliana Curinwe Varo.

► Are you single ➔ No. I'm engaged to be married to Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Windhelm.

► Are you happy ➔ It really depends on what time of the day you ask me. I've had such a mix of wonderful and terrible experiences lately. I'd say happier than not, though if you come back in a few hours, you might find me sobbing my heart out.

► Are you angry ➔ More and more every day. Being angry at enemies, like the Thalmor, seems appropriate. But I've lately been struggling with anger at my friends, family and allies. Many of my current problems stem from the fact that when I needed to defeat Alduin, *no one* would just help me with that. Not without getting something out of it for themselves.

They had their reasons - they all do - and now my father has *his* reasons for the way he's ignoring my choices. But it still makes me angry.

I don't like feeling that anger. Mostly, I try not to think about it.

► Are your parents still married ➔ That's an unfortunate way of putting it. My mother died two years ago. But yes, they were married till her death.

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ My maternal grandparents' estate in the Nibenay. Big delapidated manor in the countryside. I lived there with my mother the first five years of my life.

► Hair Color ➔ Dark brown. The Nords call it black sometimes.

► Eye Color ➔ Pale blue. Just like my mother and grandmother. My grandmother was from Haafingar, and that's the only trace of Nord you'll see in me.

► Birthday ➔ 19 Sun's Dusk.

► Mood ➔ Even-tempered, with a very sunny disposition. Usually. Quietly sarcastic and judgmental.

► Gender ➔ Female

► Summer or winter ➔ Summer. I grew up in warm places. And then the gods stick me in Skyrim. I could cry sometimes.

► Morning or afternoon ➔ Morning. I'm at my freshest then, ready to tackle the day.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ . . . I don't know.

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ I believe in it. My father fell in love at first sight with my mother. But no, it's not happened to me.

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ I've never been in a romantic relationship, really. There have been men I've flirted with. Nothing serious.

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ I hope not! I suppose you're asking about romance. In which case, Regulus Umbranox is going to be fine.

I do worry I've broken my father's heart, though.

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ No. I think I've proved that lately.

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ Yes. I hugged Jarl Ulfric when I came back to Windhelm the other night. Surprised me as well as him.

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ A few. I was very unapproachable back in Cyrodiil. A combination of my family's fame, my father's over-protectiveness, and my disinterest kept admirers at a distance. I've got some pretty strange anonymous love-notes over the years.

There's also my childhood friend, Regulus Umbranox, who is now the Count of Anvil. He *thinks* he's a secret admirer. Regulus is a good friend, so it was very annoying when he started mooning over me. We were about fifteen then. And he kept it up till I left Anvil last year. But he never actually said anything to me. Just to his parents and mine. [rolls eyes] I was never interested in him, but that approach made me very uninterested.

Skyrim is better when it comes to this. People tell me outright that they're in love with me (well, they're in love with the legend of the Dragonborn), and I politely send them on their way. No hard feelings or dancing around the subject forever.

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ I think I may be doing just that right now. The closer I get to Jarl Ulfric, the more I share his pain.

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ Love. I'm not very hot-blooded. It's not that I hate the idea of passion or haven't experienced any physical attraction. It's just - I've never desperately wanted anyone like that.

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ Lemonade. In Anvil, there were lemon trees in our back garden. Lemons of course are not widely available in Skyrim. Maybe I can import some.

► Cats or Dogs ➔ Cats. They don't expect very much of you and can look after themselves. I appreciate that.

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ I would have said a few best friends, but ever since I came to Skyrim, I've been accumulating all sorts of interesting acquaintances. It's a bit overwhelming, but at least half of them are lovely people I want to know better.

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ I was going to say romantic night in, then I remembered that party in Dragonsreach after I defeated Alduin. That was the best night of my life. Oh, you mean with a lover? Definitely, romantic night in, then. Get them alone.

► Day or night ➔ Day. You can get more done in the day. Night in the wilderness can be terrifying.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ Out of the College of Winterhold. By an Imperial Legate who is much too good at his job. Fortunately, Legate Fasendil decided to let me go.

On a less serious note, my friend Larissa Umbranox found a secret way out of Anvil Castle when we were kids. So, sometimes when I'd go over to the Castle to play, we'd sneak out together: Larissa, Regulus, and I, and play along the shoreline. We were never supposed to be there on our own; we'd been warned all about kidnappers and pirates and vengeful elves. We had lots of fun until Regulus and Larissa's younger sister, Oriana, told on us.

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ Yes. I mean, who hasn't? Down the stairs, that is. Maybe I'll fall up the stairs when I'm an addled old mage.

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ Yes. Very recently. Who? Well . . . you know.

► Wanted to disappear ➔ All the time! Not permanently. I'd come back. I just need to rest and refresh. I can't disappear, though. I have to keep on going.

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ Smile. Eyes come alive when someone smiles.

► Shorter or Taller ➔ It's intimidating how tall these Nords are, Jarl Ulfric included. I won't complain, but if I had my way, I'd even up our heights a bit.

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Are those opposites? Oh, you're asking what first sparks my interest. Intelligence, then.

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Relationship. Two things I've always wanted in a lover: Friendship and a shared wish to raise children together.

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ Unfortunately, no. Not at the moment. My father is an Imperial loyalist and he disapproves of my choices. My grandmother and uncle probably would too if I talked to them.

►Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ I might now! But it was messed up by none other than Akatosh, apparently. So it might be ungrateful to call it that. Before discovering I was Dragonborn, my life was very ordinary and placid.

► Have you ever run away from home ➔ No.

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ No.

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ Hate's a strong word, but there are people I'm friendly with who really rub me the wrong way. I just grin and bear it and never say it out loud. People who are getting on my nerves lately: Njada Stonearm, Viola Giordano, and Steward Jorleif.

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ No. When you're in my position, you have to be friendly to so many people, and hope that they'll come through for you. But some of them are fairweather friends, no doubt of that.

► Who is your best friend ➔ My housecarl Lydia.

► Who knows everything about you ➔ Lydia. An exaggeration, but what she doesn't know, she's busy finding out. She's probably the only person who'd know all my answers here.

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lightshielded · 5 years

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jarvan iv’s new lore / the good, the bad and the oh?

i just wanted to make a more official post on the changes or expansions in his new bio and my own opinions on them and why i think they’re good or bad or if they’re confusing. i will be posting a like thing to the forums in hopes of getting some answers from riot.

THE GOOD !

JARVAN III ! riot has added further information about jarvan the third, the current king of demacia. it’s really nice to actually have some official information on the man who rules the entirety of demacia rather than having to infer things from a mix of slight mentions in character bios and old lore. we know he is a smart ruler, one with a strong political mind allowing him to prevent infighting between political houses. we now know him to a loving, if a bit absent father, and a devoted husband and is truly trying to do right by his son. man even seemed unfazed by his son bringing home a half dragon when the entire demacian court was questioning the wisdom of letting the prince have a dragon on his personal guard. i don’t know man, they’ve made jarvan iii chill and i like him.

XIN ZHAO EXISTS ! this is more existence xin has seen in years and look i know it’s a brief ass mention in jarvan’s lore on how y’know he is actually doing his job of the seneschal of demacia and the lightshield family’s steward and just looking after a young jarvan but damn. yes. give xin lore and give jarvan the personal relationships which should have been established before and did exist back in the old - old lore.

EXTRA DETAILS ! i do like the small extra details given to events in this new biography. for instance, before he warred in the areas to the south, now we know the true names of these areas and where he fought and that these were also the same lands jarvan i lost his head to sion fighting in. we know a little more about his childhood and his education and why things were the way they were. just nice little details which gives his early bits of lore some interesting bits and bobs.

THIS LINE ! ‘ and the king beginning to feel the weight of his years, the prince must ensure he is prepared to one day inherit the throne, and be crowned King Jarvan IV of Demacia. ’ this line right here. this makes me feel things, that is all. just damn, king jarvan iv of demacia. now ain’t that a mood.

THE BAD !

LADY CATHERINE ! now, jarvan’s mother was only once mentioned back in the journals of justice and i honestly thought riot had forgotten about her. yet, i still joked with the release of sylas that they do not touch her. and, you know what, they really shouldn’t have. i am happy she got mention but i hate that she was revived into lore purely for the trope of killing off female characters as some kind of poor excuse for development and angst in male character’s lives. like yes, demacia is low technology and anti - magic so childbirth is probably a dangerous thing which results in a great many more deaths than in the modern day, but it was wholly unnecessary for jarvan’s older lore did not require it so it was a detail cheaply used and unwarranted.

NO CAPTURE ! jarvan’s narrative across all lores from the oldest to the one just prior to now have included him spending time in noxian custody due to a mistake on his part and him feeling the need for self - improvement and redemption. this has been his hallmark for many years and provided strong reason for character development by curbing his pride and his rash behaviour, showing his strong empathy for his fellow man and how that is both boon as well as cause cause him to make blind errors. each of these lores has provided us with a sheltered character pulled into a world far more gritty than he was living in, struggling, failing but rebuilding himself into a stronger person. yet here, jarvan barely fails. his ‘ downfall ’ moment is simply that his battalion gets splintered off after scores of victories which spread them too thin. that’s right, he won too much, got cocky and kept pressing forward. while it mentions he was troubled by what he saw there was no blind dash ignoring of orders cause he couldn’t let the murderers of his people walk free. nah, now it’s more an ego complex following a pledge to bring stability to the region and possibly regrouping when you hear the gates of mourning fell is not on the agenda when doing that. so instead, he is splintered off and he and some survivors wouldn’t surrender and escaped into the forests where they were hunted down and jarvan finally took an arrow to the knee side. here it catches up with the older lore and he lies dying in a fallen tree till our dragon friend comes to save him after mistaking him for food ( i hope they don’t remove that line from her lore when it gets updated i love it ). not to mention it removes his torture by noxus and i have no idea how swain’s line works anymore or how sion even exists.

NO VILLAGE ! so jarvan gets saved and brought to castle wrenwall which is where he combated yvva in older lore and not the small demacian village. this further changes jarvan’s narrative as they know who he is. the garrison commander instantly knows jarvan is the prince and thanks shyvana for saving her. her being a part of demacia no longer becomes because they saw her saving some random demacian and helping him and so having demacian like values and so inviting her to stay because she is a good person. it instead becomes well you saved the prince we are indebted to you. it also loses the charm of shyvana helping out in a village and the prince having to learn to live as a normal person since he is pretending to be so. it also squishes the timeline some but i’ll cover that in the next bit . . .

JARVAN’S SELFISH ! jarvan’s motivation to help shyvana is completely changed. i doubt this was intentional but the wording is very off. before: shyvana tries to leave because she knows the dragon attacks that have started happening are her fault. jarvan stops her, learns of her past and then pledges to help her because she is his friend and he owes his life to her. his own doesn’t matter, he will help her or die trying. now: the very recount heavy style of the rewriting of this new lore implies he sees yvva coming in the distance and he sees her as an opportunity to redeem himself, not help shyvana. in fact, in this new lore they barely interact. jarvan has no reason to care for her since he is still injured when yvva appears so they haven’t spent long together. like when i said the timeline is squashed i mean from several months down to maybe a couple weeks. there is no need for this reduction and all it does is hurt jarvan and shyvana’s friendship and turn jarvan into someone who cares more for his ego than his friend. what happened to learning about charity, huh?

GAREN BARELY EXISTS ! do i need to say more, jarvan’s old lore told much of their friendship and how garen’s efforts saved him but thats now deleted from the timeline and all jarvan is left with is a mention that they were friends, an almost copy paste from garen’s older lore which mentions he admires his fortitude and that now he is shield - captain so jarvan needs to shape up. it just doesn’t feel connected or personal. how am i meant to see that two people are friends if all you say is, yeah, they’re friends. how about some show not tell?

TOO MANY OTHER PEOPLE / REALLY RUSHED ! now i’m sure you’ll be surprised since i said i was happy to see stuff on jarvan iii and xin ( cause i am ) the issue is the writers are working under a kind of word limit system so while i love reading about other champions and characters, devoting several paragraphs of jarvan’s limited amount to other characters and info which is interesting but doesn’t push his story too much feels a little cheap. this rushed pace they then had to write with acts to flatten his character. things that were written once in beautiful detail are now reduced to recounted fact that lack the emotion of what the previous did. ie: CURRENT: ‘ He was devastated. He had failed his family, his kingdom, and his brothers-in-arms. ’ OLDER: ‘ As Jarvan was dragged further from Demacia during his weeks of captivity, he was ashamed that the rashness of his decision to pursue the Noxians had led to needless Demacian deaths. Crushed by the loss, he came to believe he no longer deserved to live in Demacia, let alone inherit its throne. ‘ even just this little bit on his emotions post failure. before it goes into how he stews in his grief for weeks. his shame. his loss. he no longer feels like he can be called demacian. now he is just devastated because he failed.

THE OH ?

JARVAN’S STANCE ON MAGIC IS KNOWN ? people know shyvana is a dragon now. all the nobles in attendance know. jarvan’s father knows. his friend who hates mages probably knows. literally anyone who can hear court or military gossip knows. how is this man left to do his shit when everyone knows that jarvan has a dragon on his personal guard ? this is the prince of a magic fearing nation, a nation who has in recent times made their laws significantly stricter. HOW IS HE JUST AROUND? DOES LUX KNOW THIS? DOES SYLAS KNOW ANY OF THIS? HOW IS SHYVANA NOT LOCKED UP WITH THE NEW STRICTER LAWS ??????????

IS THE KING / QUEEN STILL ELECTED ? a big part of jarvan’s character previously was that he had to toe around his nation’s views because his actions could easily be seen as treasonous or wrong and prevent him from being elected king when his father relinquishes the throne. but now it just mentions he is the heir and he is to inherit it, which it was mentioned in the other lore that he would inherit it ( or rather it was mentioned he didn’t feel like he could since it was mentioned when he was depressed ) so i don’t know if they have scrapped this part of demacian lore or if it just wasn’t mentioned. i have no idea.

#— out of character `#long post /#a very fucking long post #um so yeah #jarvan got a big lore change #rather they removed a key point #which rippled onto A LOT OF STUFF

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shannaraisles · 6 years

Text

The Rose In The Crown - Chapter 3

Summerday is always a day of joy, a day of marriages made and love affirmed. And for Ferelden, this Summerday is one to be remembered. King Alistair, ten years a king with no heir in sight, will finally marry his chosen bride.

Sequel to A Rose By Any Name.

Featuring the winners of my giveaway! Marguerite Dujardin appears courtesy of @puddle--wonderful; Namari Lavellan appears courtesy of @savvylittleminx; Kira Mahariel belongs to @agentkatie; Kallak Brosca appears courtesy of @ironbullsmissingeye; Eirlys Amell appears courtesy of @ladymdc; Maeve Aeducan appears courtesy of @solverne-02; and Solona Amell appears courtesy of @skyholdherbalist! Also, huge thank you to @inquisition-dragonborn, @ladymimz, @inquisitorsmabari, and @fade-touched-obsidian for helping me with the selections from the Chant of Light!

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 3

Princess Felicita Amalia Braulia Salome Campana of Antiva looked at her reflection, and barely knew herself.

Her raven-black hair had been left long for the most part, with only a simple braid crown encircling her head and woven with seed pearls to hold the curled mane out of her face. A simple string of pearls encircled her throat, a teardrop of ruby hanging from that string to grace her skin just above the swell of her breasts. Matching pearls adorned her ears with the glimmer of matching rubies. And the gown itself ...

The elves of Denerim had outdone themselves.

Despite the disgust of human tailors and seamstresses, the princess had insisted that her wedding garments be designed and made by the elves of Ferelden. After all, she was a human; the crown was being crafted by the surfacer dwarves of Ferelden;it was only right that the elves should have a hand in the making of their queen. The call had gone out across the land - skilled seamstresses from many alienages made the often treacherous journey to the capital to join their labor to those already hard at work on the gown the Antivan princess would wear to become a wife and queen. Everything they requested was provided, from Antivan satin to Nevarran silk thread, to soft white hide from Orlais, and fine ruby and salt crystal beads from Rivain. Alistair had been so fascinated by these requests that he had belatedly asked the elves to make his wedding garments as well, enthralled by the variety and intricacy of the work being done well below the generous budget he had insisted be set aside to pay for both the materials and the labor. Indeed, the excess would still be paid out - a generous, unexpected bonus for the elves who had put so much into the beauty they had created.

What Fabs now wore was a true masterpiece, the result of six weeks and forty elves' hard work. The chemise was sheer white silk; the stays constructed from layers of white silk brocade to create a stiffness that would support without overheating her in the latter hours of the celebration. Delicate silk stockings in crimson encased her legs to above the knee, fixed in place with embroidered ribbon garters; on her feet, fine-stitched slippers in soft white hide. But these were all details that were only for the princess and the seamstresses to know, intimate secrets of the wedding trousseau that others would never guess at - beautiful, but hidden by the glorious gown that covered them all.

A gown that bore echoes of Antiva in the full shoulders and fitted bands of the sleeves that flared at her wrists; a gown that embraced Ferelden in the snugly fitted bodice and the natural fall of a full skirt allowed to sway without the artificial plumping of petticoats so favored in Imperial circles. Ivory satin hugged the ample curve of her bosom and slender waist, flaring at her hips, embroidered in gold and silver silk with the royal mabari of Ferelden, the rose of Antiva, and the griffon of the Grey Wardens. Beads of ruby and salt-crystal accentuated the fitted bands of her sleeves and cuffs, and trimmed the long train that was yet to be affixed. The train itself was in matching ivory satin, long enough to skim the floor for several feet behind her, trimmed with those same sparkling precious beads, emblazoned with a single large golden mabari nestled in the petals of a ruby-red rose.

"Now then, highness, aren't you a picture?" Andra beamed at her mistress over her shoulder, fluffing the dark curls one last time before turning away to help Golda with the last piece.

A small hand inserted itself into Fab's palm, drawing her gaze down to Maria, who was to be her only bridesmaid. Indeed, the attendants for the bride were very small in number for a royal wedding - just Ciara and Maria. Anora had been asked, but had laughingly declined and, of course, the princess had not had the first idea that Marguerite would be there at all. Maria had been garbed in dusky rose pink, all silks and satins trimmed with gold, a basket of white rose petals waiting for her to carry down the aisle of the great hall.

"You look very pretty, princess," the little girl told her solemnly.

She squealed as Fabs suddenly knelt to wrap her up in a warm embrace, woman and child giggling together for a long moment.

"You look very pretty too, Maria," Fabs promised her in return. "Alistair will be so happy to see you."

"And I got to sit next to Ceri and Ciara, because there’s no room for me next to the big chairs," Maria said in a confident tone, nodding to herself. She had been drilled on the details of the ceremony many times over, just as Fabs and Alistair had themselves.

"Yes, little one. And the ceremony may be very boring, but there will be a party afterward," the princess assured her. "And Alistair and I have a present for our very special guest who is also family."

Maria beamed happily, hugging her arms about Fabs' neck once again. "And you're going away after?"

"Tomorrow morning, yes. But only for a week." She raised one long finger to tweak the little girl's nose affectionately. "So you only have a week to throw wild parties and build a zoo in our absence."

The giggle that erupted from Maria was enough to draw the attention of the rest of the little bridal party - Ciara and Fulgeno, the princess' father. Marguerite had shown amazing forbearance in sacrificing her own peace of mind to remove the mother of the bride before anyone started crying. The unexpected, but most welcome, Orlesian guest had been instrumental in keeping the bride from flying into a panic around breakfast-time, too. Indeed, Marguerite had spent the morning treating everyone in the princess' rooms like skittish, wayward animals that needed a firm hand to be calm, and surprisingly, it had worked. Thanks to her, there had been no tantrums, no tears, and - most importantly - no last-minute declarations that the bride could not go through with this. Fabs knew she was going to have to do something spectacular for her friend to thank her for this morning's work.

"Shall we go and find our flowers, Maria?" Ciara suggested, holding out a hand to the excited little girl.

Her answer was a cheery nod as her hand was seized. Maria was likely more excited about the wedding today than anyone else was, but no one minded that so much. It was a joy to see her smiling and happy, unafraid of the future ahead of her because it would not contain judgment and cruelty from those who were supposed to care for her any longer. Fabs rose as the two of them swept away in their own wedding finery, catching the nod from the steward at the door. It was time.

Her father, King Fulgeno of Antiva, stepped forward, laying his hands on her shoulders as he smiled at his daughter.

"You look every inch the rose, pequeña," he told her, the pride in his gaze warming her heart as she beamed in response. "Your Alistair is a very lucky man."

"Thank you, Papa."

She surged forward to embrace him once more, kissing his cheek as he chuckled. And for a moment, Fabs faltered. This was her last embrace with her father as his little girl, the last time she would be just his daughter. In just a few hours, she would be a wife, her first loyalty no longer to her father but to her husband. The thought carried more pain than she had thought it might. But Fulgeno seemed to know the moment that pain struck, drawing back to tap the end of her nose, as he had done so many times in her childhood.

"Ah, ah, pequeña," he told her warningly. "No tears. You have love - the love of your father, and the love of your husband. I can see no circumstance where we will ever ask you to choose between us. Now, stand straight for the last piece to be put in place."

Fabs laughed a little, glancing over her shoulder as Andra and Golda approached, their arms full of embroidered satin - the train that needed to be attached before she was permitted to show herself publicly. It was just a blessed relief that she would be able to take it off soon after the wedding; it was heavy.

"You always know what I am thinking, Papa," she accused him, straightening her back to allow better ease for her assistants to work.

Golda's hands gathered her hair carefully, and Andra settled the train at her shoulders, neatly pinning it in place with a pair of silver brooches - griffons, for her beloved Alistair's Grey Wardens. Both women stepped back, spreading the train over the floor, their smiles bright and proud not only of the woman who would soon be their queen, but of their honored role in preparing her for these moments.

"Espléndido," Fulgeno declared, his gesture taking in not only his daughter, arrayed in ivory, gold, and silver, but also the blushing ladies who had taken such pains to prepare her this morning.

"Thank you," Fab added, twisting to look at Andra and Golda. "Truly. I do not know how to begin to thank you."

"Just you have a happy day," Andra told her, Golda still being a little in awe of the princess who had brought so much sunshine into Denerim palace in just a few short months. "And next time I see you, I shall be so proud to call you your majesty."

"I hope I shall always make you proud," the princess answered softly, laughing as the two maids, elf and human, scoffed at the thought that she could ever disappoint them.

She turned back to her father, smiling at the vague incredulity in his eyes - servants in Antiva were certainly not as plain-spoken or forthright as they were in Ferelden. But he said nothing to embarrass the two women, glancing up as the steward opened the door. Fab straightened her shoulders, taking her father's arm as they moved toward the doorway and the wide staircase beyond. The train spread across the floor behind her for several feet, drifting down the stairs in her wake with only the barest of tugs against the brooches that held it secure to her shoulders. It truly was a masterpiece of tailoring.

The hum of voices within the Great Hall rose as they reached the ground floor antechamber, where Ciara and Maria were waiting. By tradition, the little bridesmaid was carrying a basket of rose petals, clearly looking forward to covering the aisle to the dais in them as she lead the procession. They had already anticipated the natural fear Maria might feel in walking through the Great Hall first, hence the fact that Anora and Callista were going to be clearly visible along the aisle. Having a couple of familiar friendly faces to focus on as she passed by would keep Maria from feeling overwhelmed before she reached the dais and Alistair, and could find her seat next to Ceri in the front row.

The steward bowed to the King of Antiva and his daughter. "With your permission, your majesty?"

Fulgeno smiled. "Let us begin."

Beyond the doors, heralds blew their fanfare trumpets, announcing the arrival of the bride. Fabs could hear the rustle as men and women rose from their seats to look back at the doors swinging open to reveal little Maria, ward of the crown of Ferelden, all but skipping forward, tossing handfuls of her rose petals ahead of herself as the gentle tone of the mixed minstrel band played a familiar Andrastian hymn. Moments later, Ciara followed, but all eyes remained turned toward the open doors, and the princess who was soon to become a queen.

Nerves settled over the bride in a gentle rush, bright color flushing her cheeks. Her fingers tightened on her father's arm, softening only when he covered her clenching grip with his other hand. Her murmured apology was gently deflected with a squeeze of his hand and another gentle smile, a last nod before they began to walk forward, traversing the first few steps to the central aisle before turning to face the grand dais and the worthies awaiting them there.

The sunlight poured in through the high set windows, lancing down in sharp rays of soft gold over the rich blue of the carpet that adorned the aisle itself, illuminating the king and his daughter as he escorted her toward her new life. A wide circle of that same golden sunlight shone down on the honor guard that stood at the foot of the steps to the dais - Grey Wardens, there to honor their brother on this rare day for one of their order. She had met them all the day before - Kira Mahariel, a Dalish elf whose red hair blazed in the sunlight; Kallak Brosca, a fierce-looking dwarf with a surprisingly gentle manner; Eirlys Amell, a quiet human mage who seemed to radiate calm; Maeve Aeducan, a former princess among dwarves, her well-earned confidence shining through; Solona Amell, another human mage, a little more warily withdrawn than her comrades; and Demelza Tabris, bright grin shining, murmuring her orders to her fellow Wardens. In a single motion, weapons were drawn and raised high, an arch of blades for the bride to pass beneath in order to reach her groom, their brother in arms.

And there he was, her Alistair, resplendent in crimson velvet trimmed with gold, his eyes fixed to hers as she made her way toward him. Her nerves faded away, soothed by the smile that made his handsome face stunning and urged an answering smile from her, bright and warm and loving, heedless of anyone who saw how much she adored this man who was about to make her his wife. She barely even noticed the crown on his head, barely heard the murmur of the nobility behind her as she and her father reached the honor guard of Wardens.

How had it come to this? What had she done to be so blessed as to gain the love of a good man who needed her love almost more than he desired it? To be invited to share his life in a role he had not been born to, to be welcomed into his heart almost without thought? Yet no matter how unworthy she might feel, Fabs knew Alistair loved her. She could see it in the glimmer of his earthen eyes, in the tilt of his smile; feel it in the gentle tremor of his touch as he took her hand to lead her up onto the dais, in the warmth of the kiss he pressed to her knuckles as she released a little of her faded nerves in a soft giggle.

"You are so handsome, mi amor," she whispered to him, gratified to see him blush to the tips of his ears as he grinned in delight at the compliment.

"You beat me to it," was his whispered complaint. "I was supposed to tell you how handsome you are." He blinked, realizing what he had said. "Beautiful. You're beautiful, not ... Maker's breath, why did I have to becoming a raving idiot now?"

Swallowing down her laughter behind her smile, Fab leaned into him, squeezing his hand. "You are yourself, my darling," she murmured, as the hymn came to a close. "There is no one else I would rather stand here with."

His answering grin was all she needed to whisk away the last of those nerves, to know that this was where she was meant to be. Her whole world was in that smile, that beaming expression of incredulous, loving delight that she was standing with him and about to make vows that would bind them together for life, oblivious to the faces watching them, the indulgent smiles on the faces of friends and family, the quiet respect from allies, the unspoken resentment from those who had originally had other plans for their king.

"Are we ready?" a soft voice asked from nearby.

Fabs blushed a warm shade of rose as she tore her eyes from the king of her heart, embarrassed to belatedly realize she was keeping the Divine waiting. Surprised, too, to find the First of Clan Lavellan standing with Divine Victoria, but pleased at this inclusion. Leliana's smile was forgiving as the couple before her straightened their expressions, turning a little more to face the woman who would join them in the Maker's eyes.

Chuckling, Alistair squeezed his bride's hands, nodding to the old friend before him. "Ready and waiting."

Leliana beamed a benevolent smile, raising her hands. Fabs felt the full attention of the entire hall turn to them, and the woman who held the Chantry in the palm of her hand.

"Brothers and sisters, we are gathered here to witness the joining in marriage of two good hearts, an alliance of like minds in the formal bonds of love. Love is the gift of the Maker, a force that binds us despite our differences. You have come together today so that Andraste may seal and strengthen your love in the presence of the Maker. Andraste, who is herself the Bride of the Maker, shall strengthen you both, that you may assume the duties of marriage in mutual and lasting fidelity."

Namari Lavellan then spoke from the Divine's shoulder, the lilt of her voice carrying with ease to drown out the few grumbles from the mostly human gathering.

"A good marriage must be created," she told them, speaking only to Fabs and Alistair, despite the hall full of people. "It is standing together and facing the world. It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow. It is not only marrying the right person - it is being the right partner. Love is a good beginning. The gods will smile upon it."

Fabs felt Alistair's pleasure at including a Dalish blessing in their wedding, and her own heart swelled with pride for the king who had simply asked a Dalish elf to bless his marriage, rather than asked for permission to do so from the many humans in his court who would have argued against it. Integration, racial and religious tolerance, an end to superficial division between peoples; these were all so close to his heart, a lesson learned in his few years as a Warden and brought over to his tenure as the King of Ferelden. No one within his borders need fear that their king did not care for them, no matter their race. It was simply one more reason to love the man beaming down at her in these moments, as the Divine's voice floated over their heads once again.

“In the name of the Maker, who brought us this world, and in whose name we say the Chant of Light, I offer the blessing of Andraste to this promised pair. As Andraste knew the love and duty of marriage to a mortal man, may you share in her faith and fidelity; and as she knew bliss as the Maker’s chosen Bride, may you, too, find joy in your union."

Before the eyes of the Fereldan nobility, as well as the unique guests invited from all walks of life, Divine Victoria took the hands of King Alistair Theirin and Princess Felicita Campana into her own grasp.

"Alistair, you have chosen to wed this woman in the eyes of mortal man. Will you swear by the Maker and Holy Andraste to honor her as your lawful wife, as long as you both shall live?”

Fabs let her gaze return to Alistair without even a moment of hesitation, unable to disguise her smile as he turned her hand in his grasp, pressing her palm over his heart. She could feel the steady beat within his chest, the way it thudded just a little faster as he drew in his breath to speak.

"I swear," he declared, "unto the Maker and Holy Andraste to love this woman the rest of my days.”

Somewhere behind him, Fabs heard Maria let out a cheer, tilting her head to let the child see her laughing smile as she shushed herself in acute embarrassment at having broken the reverential silence. Ceri was chuckling as the little girl hid her face against the Kirkwaller's shoulder, the ripple of amusement sweeping through the hall quietly before Leliana raised her hands for silence.

"Felicita, you have chosen to wed this man in the eyes of mortal man. Will you swear by the Maker and Holy Andraste to honor him as your lawful husband, as long as you both shall live?”

What could she say? Fabs' heart was throbbing in her chest as she looked into Alistair's eyes, never more certain of anything in her life than she was of the decision she had made that had brought her to this moment in time. The official words felt strange and unwieldy in her mouth, but they were the only ones she could use in this time and space. There would be time enough for softer words ... a lifetime, in fact.

"I swear unto the Maker and Holy Andraste," she said, feeling her voice tremble in the ringing stillness around them, "to love this man for the rest of my days."

There was a pause as they held one another's gaze, knowing that there was a recitation looming that could easily become utterly unintelligible to anyone listening if they didn't concentrate. Fabs could feel herself trying not to giggle, though whether it was nerves or the sheer release of knowing that they were almost there urging that laughter to rise, she couldn't say. But she could see Alistair's eyes dancing, his lips twitching, and she knew he was having just as much trouble as she was staying composed. It was all so serious and solemn, a far cry from the couple they made away from the eyes of the masses.

Thank goodness for the Divine. Leliana squeezed their hands sharply, pulling Fabs, at least, back from the brink of embarrassing giggles, giving the couple their cue to complete their vows together.This, at least, had been rehearsed - these words spoken in tandem, clear and calm, in matching cadence.

"For You are the fire at the heart of the world; And comfort is only Yours to give."

At Alistair's back, Fergus stepped forward, offering a band of gold engraved with roses into his king's free hand as Leliana released her grip on the couple. Fabs swallowed, her smile flickering brightly in response to his as the cool metal found a home at her knuckle to the accompaniment of his own chosen words, taken from the Chant of Light itself.

"My hearth is yours, my bread is yours, my life is yours." And though they may have been the sacred words of the Chant, on Alistair's lips, in this moment, they belonged to him alone.

As his hands encompassed hers, pulling her closer, Fabs couldn't help the surge of soft delight, eager for what now would come. From the corner of her eye, she saw Divine Victoria raise her hands in benediction.

“I bear witness, in the name of the Maker, and Blessed Andraste, whom He loves, that these vows are binding and lawful,” Leliana declared, and in her tone was a challenge to everyone here present. If anyone dared to raise an objection to the marriage completed before them, they would have to go through the Divine to do it. "May no one seek to tear them down, for they are made in faith and love.”

She lowered her hands, and for a moment, all was still. Only the small group on the dais could hear the soft benediction spoken in indecipherable elvhen, calling down a blessing on a royal pair who truly wanted to take the danger out of the lives of their subjects. As Namari's voice died away, Leliana's smile brightened.

"Your majesty ... you may kiss your wife."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather do that for me?" Alistair asked with a playful glimmer, beaming as Divine Victoria spluttered out a very inappropriate laugh and had to turn away for a moment.

Fabs poked him with a low laugh, rolling her eyes as he chuckled. She felt his hands slide to her back beneath the hang of the train, her own curling her fingers to the soft velvet of his sleeves as he bent his head to hers. Smiling lips touched smiling lips, and she felt, more than heard, the sudden eruption of polite applause and dignified cheering in the hall. And beyond that, an echo from outside the palace itself, as the crowds in the square took up the sound of celebration with greater enthusiasm. The King was finally a married man. Very soon, they would meet their new Queen.

Alistair's lips moved as he gently drew back from their first married kiss, his breath warm against her mouth as he whispered, "I love you, Fabs."

She beamed up at him, certain she must be glowing with happiness. "Te amo, mi amor. My lord and king."

He groaned at that teasing addition to her own declaration, kissing the tip of her nose as she giggled. "Just you wait," he warned. "A whole day of wearing the crown is going to give you a headache as bad as mine used to be. You have to train your head not to feel it."

"Oh, I am very glad I shall have you to train me," she countered in amusement, watching as he realized he was preaching to the choir, somewhat. His expression of slow, sheepish comprehension was adorable.

"Princess," he said, nodding. "Right. You know about that."

"Only a little, my darling."

She leaned close to kiss his cheek, drawing in a slow breath. They were married. She was Alistair Theirin's wife; he was her husband. And in just a few moments ...

She glanced up at a scraping sound to her left. The coronation throne was being set down by a pair of guardsmen on the dais, in front of the traditional thrones themselves. Others were coming forward with velvet cushions on which were set the queen's ring and the newly crafted crown, and quite suddenly Fabs knew that this was real. In a matter of minutes, she would be Queen of Ferelden, crowned by her husband and raised to his rank, a ruler in her own right.

Alistair seemed to sense her moment of realization, squeezing her hand gently as he turned to lead her to the coronation throne. The Divine had stepped away, no longer an active part of this ceremony but simply a witness. Namari, too, had stepped down from the dais. The Grey Wardens stood at the foot of the dais, not subjects but willing witnesses to the crowning of a queen.

As she sat slowly on the uncomfortable throne, Fabs' gaze found Marguerite and Josephine in the crowd for the briefest of moments, biting down a laugh at the encouraging nods and smiles her friends threw toward her. She flicked a glance toward Maria, finding the little girl holding tight to Ceri and Ciara's hands, her expression intense as she watched Alistair pick up the ring from the purple cushion presented to him. Across the hall, the silence fell once more, all eyes turning to the crowning of a queen.

"Felicita," he intoned, and she knew in an instant that Anora had been rehearsing him for this. "Do you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of Ferelden, regardless of race or creed, in accordance with the laws and statutes of this land? Will you, in your power, give justice and mercy to the supplicant in all judgments? And will you serve this land at my side, as wife and queen, and guiding hand?"

She raised her chin, looking out over the hall, still able to hear the jubilant cheers of the people gathered outside celebrating the marriage only just sealed with a kiss. The oath was solemn and binding, yet it was not a difficult oath to swear. She believed in Alistair's vision for his country, in the equality of all the races if they could possibly encourage it. It would be an honor to help guide Ferelden to a new era of prosperity and tolerance.

"I solemnly swear so to do."

She raised her right hand as he reached down, feeling the significantly heavier weight of the queen's royal signet ring find its resting place against the knuckle of her second finger - a weight she would have to grow accustomed to over the months and years to come. Alistair's callused fingers gripped hers for a moment, drawing her eyes to his in time to catch the reassuring flicker of his wink before he turned away once more to lift the crown above her head. A more delicate version of the king's crown, the surface dwarves of Ferelden had done themselves proud with the sparkling gold and exquisitely polished rubies that Alistair now held aloft.

"Felicita Theirin, in the name of the Maker and Andraste, before the Divine and the eyes of the court, I crown you Queen of Ferelden," the king declared, gently setting the crown onto the braid that looped her head and had been settled there just for that purpose.

He took her hand once more, raising her to her feet, bending to brush a tender kiss to her lips once more, wreathed in smiles. They had made it through the ceremonies. Now all that remained was the celebrations. With a last kiss to her forehead, Alistair turned to present Fabs to her new court. The herald's staff thumped on the flagstones, calling for a last moment of silence.

"All rise, and honor King Alistair and Queen Felicita of Ferelden. Long may they reign!"

#the rose in the crown #alistair theirin #princess fabs #that tag is going to change with the next chapter #alistair x female oc #alistair x fabs #THE WEDDING #FINALLY #ceremony #fluff

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thecandywrites · 5 years

Text

The Pink Panther

So this story is again, inspired from a crazy dream I had and again, like a woman possessed I JUST HAD TO WRITE IT. all my other wips and commissions be damned and just staring at my compulsary working on this going ‘uh, excuse me? Hello? You didn’t forget about us right? Right?!” and me going ‘but crazy idea that will drive me mad if I don’t get out of my head!’ in the same tone Hulk said ‘big monster!’ to Thor when Thor told him not to smash. And it’s a break from...well, everything I usually write. You see this is what you get when you watch count of Monte Cristo AND The Pink Panther from the 60′s. THAT PINK PANTHER and all those period dramas *cough* Harlots on Hulu *cough*. You get a nightmare fart of a story from three things that probably shouldn’t ever be crossed over. So I just need this out of my system so I can FOCUS on the other things and it was a really fun dream. Dashing lords in disguise, huge gems, a foul plot afoot and the promise of fortune greater than your wildest dreams. It’s fine it’s fine.

Vidame Emilia Bellim sat in the back of her carriage with her best friend who just happened to also be her childhood friend and chaperon Fredrick as they rode to a strange palace in a remote area of Europe. Emily’s title and prestige meant that Emily was respected and sought after by nobles all over Europe, thinking that there was a great fortune behind her to be won when Emily’s adopted grandmother who was in poor health would pass and Emily had just gotten done being hosted by such a noble for such a purpose. While Fredrick on the other hand, his father was a scientist. One of the best but was eccentric, becoming at risk of being enemies of the state with his rantings. And while there was no romance between them, they were closer than siblings and the best of friends with Fredrick and his father living with Emily and her grandmother at Emily’s estate and Fredrick acting as her chaperon to make sure the nobles behaved themselves and only acted in the most gentlemanly like ways towards her and that Emily and her reputation would be protected at all times and that she would stay well above reproach.

“So where exactly are we going?” Freddy asked after a while of traveling on the well traveled road.

“To Count Sparta’s estate, his eldest son has been deemed eligible for marriage now and I am one of the few deemed worthy of being considered a prospect for him, apparently.” Emily answered sarcastically before Freddy snorted a laugh as his smile grew fond.

“My grandmother got a letter from Count Sparta himself and she promptly sent the carriage and another letter with it and sent me to go to this place. The first letter makes no sense, I’ve read it repeatedly and nothing makes sense. It’s like one of her many riddles.” Emily groused as she handed the letters over to Freddy to look over in the light of the lantern in the carriage next to him. Freddy frowned as he read them and tried to make sense of them too. He read them over twice and even to him it didn’t make a bit of sense. So he simply handed them back with a shrug before looking back out over the darkening landscape. When they stopped at an inn, they simply took a single room as Freddy helped Emily undress before the two crawled in bed together and cuddled close.

“I will always prefer to sleep with you more than anyone else.” Emily sighed contentedly with her head resting over his chest.

“Only because you know I’ll never grope you or worse.” Freddy teased.

“Precisely.” Emily smiled before she rolled over so that he spooned her and wrapped his arms around her waist before the two promptly fell asleep. After a long three days of travel on the road and staying at another inn only a few short hours away from Count Sparta’s estate the day before the letter demanded they arrive, they rested for the night, in the morning, Freddy helped Emily get ready into a new gown her grandmother sent her and helped her with her hair and makeup. Freddy always could make her look ravishing so that every other man seemed to fall in love with her with just a look at her and in return Emily got Freddy ready, making him look dashingly handsome. Her grandmother sent Freddy some new clothes as well so that he looked like a proper dandy and the two looked like a pair in matching peacock teal which did wonders for Emily’s fair complexion and natural dark red hair, something of a novelty all the nobles sought after but it was something she didn’t let get to her head so to speak, if anything it only empowered her to resist their advances and to be as picky as she wished about who she would keep company with and had rules about her person that most ladies in her status and circumstance could only dream of demanding but it was because of who was backing her that no one dared question it. Her adopted grandmother was a grand duchess and was related to the royal families, some kind of great aunt who’s power and influence was great and whose fortune was famed to be unusually large and supposedly independent than that of the royal family and their monarchies, she had a fierce reputation for being a perfectionist in not just her home or her clothing but of others and had had no natural children of her own. And how Emilia got to be her grand daughter was something of a mystery but never questioned and that once the grand duchess named Emilia her only rightful heir, it was simply accepted as much and her adopted grandmother groomed Emilia to be practically perfect and poured all of her resources into Emilia’s education and talents to make Emilia the ideal in all things. Frustrating for a small child but as Emilia got older, she realized the value in such hard work since it now garnered her something priceless, respect wherever she went.

When they arrived at the sprawling and luxurious estate, their host did not greet them, instead the steward and his assistants did and Emily greeted them in graciousness and with the utmost respect in turn and soon realized she was in the company of some of the more keen minds but with checkered pasts and wild reputations of Europe’s elite and she felt right at home in such company for some reason and soon Freddy left her side as the two quickly gathered as much information from the other guests as they could as to why they were there. All of the other guests had gotten similar, perplexing letters as they soon began sharing them, Freddy and Emily quickly and easily memorizing the other’s letters as they gathered that the other guests were there for the same objective but varied incentives and motivations, a few felt they were being blackmailed to come here since their daughters were part of the pool of approved nobility that most royal princes would use to pick out a future queen out of. Others thought it was intrigue while most just thought it was harmless fun and a game as everyone was with a daughter of marrying age and knew that the estate had two sons of marrying age and all the letters mentioned the eldest and his quest to find a bride which is why Emily found herself surrounded by over a dozen of the most eligible ladies, dressed in gowns just as grand, if not more so than her own before they were seated for dinner. But again, their host did not join them, instead the steward and his assistants led the meal. Which was beyond delicious and Freddy and Emily happily gorged themselves. Not having had a good, decent meal in the last few days it took for them to get there.

“How do you like the meal Lady Bellim?” Rolf, the steward’s lead attendant inquired of her as he refilled her wine glass for her, having heard that her tastes were on par with royalty when it came to excellence and refinement.

“Quite excellent, I’m very impressed, the variety of seasonings used is impressive, the techniques are a wonderful blend of the tried and true and new. I have yet to have an off mouthful. The cooks and all those tasked with helping to prepare this feast are to be commended, truly.” Emily praised genuinely as Rolf smiled proudly.

“Do you not think that the pigeon is over-spiced?” Viscountess Lucretia asked as she couldn’t help but cough as her eyes watered and she fanned herself and tried to cleanse her palette with more wine.

“No, not at all, I detect a wide variety of spice, particularly saffron, turmeric, chili pepper, coriander and cumin, is this your first time trying anything with any of those? Most feel the smallest fraction is too much because of how intense they can be, especially chili pepper.” Emily returned from her place across from Lucretia.

“That must be it then, I do not care for it at all.” She made a disgusted face before downing the rest of her wine before another attendant came and refilled her glass.

“You are from the mountain range of Italy are you not? There are herbs that grow in the mountains which are quite fine and should be just as esteemed as the silk road spices. Perhaps you would prefer the meal if it had more of those in it.” Emily pointed out and the Viscountess smiled appreciatively.

“Yes. Very much so, I have heard that you are very well traveled and prefer the silk road spices, no doubt why you were able to distinguish them so easily.” Lucretia returned fondly, appreciating Emily’s respectful esteem and making it so that her beloved herbs were equal to the famed silk road spices which was a compliment she greatly admired and appreciated.

“I appreciate all spices, no matter their origin, as long as they are used well.” Emily grinned as she continued to eat and thoroughly enjoyed the meal, trying some of every dish.

“Now where does the title Vidame come from or mean? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of it before.” Lucretia asked Emily curiously who smiled appreciatively as she wiped her mouth and cleared her mouth so that she could speak clearly.

“It is a title awarded by His Holiness the Pope himself, it was given to my father for commanding the Pope’s army and Bishop’s forces- not just in the Vatican but all over the Holy Empire. I inherited the title when my father passed since I am the only child of my parents and while I’m not expected to perform my late father’s duties, I enjoy the doting from His Holiness as perhaps any beloved grandchild would from a grandfather. In fact this cross is a gift from him for my birthday a few years back since my birthday falls in the Holy Week. I spend every birthday with His Holiness at the Vatican.” Emily boasted as she gestured to the outrageously gaudy cross that was encrusted with jewels that weighed heavily on her chest as all the other families gasped softly as they realized they should have risked breaking the rules and brought their sons to try to woo her too even though it was expressed that only chaperons, guardians and fathers be allowed to come to keep Lord Sparta from having to compete for any lady’s attention. But to have the Pope’s blessing was invaluable, no wonder she could go wherever she wished in the Holy Empire and beyond without a problem or could demand that no one touch her or invade her personal space because she had the pope’s backing and protection. They had all heard how the last poor soul who tried not only got stripped of all his lands and holdings by the king as demanded by the Pope, but excommunicated and promptly killed himself for the shame he brought on himself. So to be Vidame by the pope and future Grand Duchess when her grandmother would pass, would be a double honor to add to any family tree.

After the meal the guests were invited to roam the estate for one hour as they pleased without hindrance because all the staff from the estate would gather in the dining room for that hour and Freddy and Emily combed over every bit of it they could, Freddy going to the upper floors while Emily searched the lower ones, trying to find the basement and found a tunnel, shut by a metal door and once she used the key her grandmother sent her- she opened it and wandered inside before it suddenly flashed flame and she dove to the ground as a flame lit up the roof of the cave but only for a brief moment, barely a second or two. When the flame was gone, she stood up and wiped the dirt off her gown and noticed that the walls and ceiling were covered in black soot and that the ground had become like soft but charred saw dust, with dead beetle corpses blowing in an unearthly breeze within the tunnel. Her letter from her grandmother had said ‘go where death is certain to achieve the best life’ and now that sentiment suddenly made sense. Count Sparta was rumored to have unlimited funds, from family lines from all over Europe that even the kings of such lands drooled over and that if any king dare oppose the Spartas, that they would simply move to a new sprawling estate in another country, bringing their wealth with them and leaving the monarchs of said country financially devastated because of a lack of tax revenue that the Spartas would pay and that in return for Sparta’s patronage, the Spartas were granted not just lands but titles galore in every country they took up residence in. But only the father was known to only the royal families and rarely socialized outside of the King’s private court where he was considered a royal adviser- so his face was relatively unknown. His sons were even bigger mysteries, the only people to talk about them were the scholars who came from all over Europe to educate them for a small time until they passed all pertinent knowledge over then they sent away with more wealth than they could hope to use in a lifetime. Perhaps all that wealth was hidden down here. She knew her hour was coming to an end and knew that at the end of the hour, wherever the guests would be, they would be locked there for the night, their own rooms being the only “safe” spaces there were. She quickly gathered her skirts and made a run for her room that she would be sharing with Freddy, passing all the other guests who were leisurely going to their own rooms. Not thinking there was much of any haste to it and not taking their warnings in their letters seriously at all. When she got there and saw that Freddy was on the other end of the hall, also quickly going to their room and carrying something heavy wrapped in his coat.

“Freddy! Run!” She yelled down the hall before Freddy quickly slipped out of his heeled shoes and ran for her as she pulled him into the room right in the nick of time and once inside the doors shut and locked on their own and there were so many other guests left out into the hallway who were angry and demanded that they should gain entry to their rooms for the night before they went looking for other rooms that had beds to get some sleep.

“What happened to you?” Freddy asked as he noticed Emily was covered in soot, the black staining the gorgeous peacock teal of her silk and satin dress.

“I went where death was certain.” Emily explained with a bright smile.

“What?” Freddy asked as he helped her out of her dress and helped her clean up, miraculously with only a dab of a damp cloth, the soot came out of it and didn’t actually stain the dress because it was dry dust at that point.

“Under the manor, where a basement should be, I found a cave, I believe it must have been a bat cave, but fire soon lit up the cave and I had to fall to the ground to keep the flames from eating me. The floor is covered in what feels like charred sawdust. But I think it is charred sawdust on top of guano. There were beetle and cockroach carcasses swirling in an unearthly wind. What did you find?” Emily asked.

“A telescope that rivals any and all that I had ever seen before. I could see the moon and Mars from it. There was also this,” Freddy answered as he pulled what he thought was a giant pink crystal from his coat that he had used to wrap around it and what had made his run difficult.

“Wow, it is obviously a very pink gemstone, a diamond perhaps, and it looks like there is a panther in it. You must have taken a rare gem indeed.” Emily realized when she took the large gem that was the size of a pomelo and had to be held with both hands as she looked it over, it was raw and uncut and gorgeous.

“Oh, oops.” Freddy grimaced.

“Do no worry my friend, we can return it tomorrow. But something is afoot tonight, we must try to figure it out.” Emily realized as she went over to the desk and put the gem down and took out not only her letter but everyone else’s letter that she happened to steal from them.

“I see your fingers are just as sticky as mine.” Freddy teased as he came over which got Emily to grin at him again before they both sat down and compared all the letters. An hour later, a chorus of screams was heard and Emily and Freddy looked at each other worriedly before it just pushed them to work harder but then a deathly quiet followed. Emily and Freddy began looking around the room for anything that could help them but found nothing of the sort before Freddy noticed the letters were numbered peculiarly.

“Fibonacci.” Freddy breathed before he looked at the letters and found that the letters were numbered in the upper right hand corner and arranged them in the Fibonacci sequence before they read them again in that order, this time, they began to make a little bit of sense, it was a set of warnings of how to survive their stay in the house. But they were missing several pages still.

“We are pawns in a game.” Emily realized as she grinned wider.

“You smile as if you are enjoying this.” Freddy teased.

“Who said I wasn’t?” Emily returned.“Come, lets get some sleep, we can’t think clearly if we haven’t slept.” Emily offered as they got ready for bed. In the morning, Emily acted as if nothing the least bit disturbing had happened the night before and was delighted when she checked the doors to see them unlocked. When she and Freddy went into the hall, most of the other guests were already running for their lives and leaving the place, screaming at the attendants and servants to make sure they got all their things so that they could leave this cursed place as soon as possible; a few of them begging Emily to leave too, saying that the house was haunted and that they were there to meet their deaths and to write to the Pope to tell him about it although all their accounts about the ghosts seemed strange to Emily.

“Do you not wish to go also Lady Bellim?” Rolf asked her curiously as he and his men were done carrying things down for the other guests so they could leave, although he personally didn’t wish for her to go. He liked her the best, since she was kind, gracious and respectful whereas everyone else seemed to be haughty and rude.

“I have played many games with many lords Sir Rolf, this is yet another one. Besides, I feel there is a prize equal to the task that perhaps hasn’t been mentioned in the letters. I’m staying.” Emily firmly insisted. “Fredrick Dear, you are free to go if you wish, please don’t stay solely for my benefit.” Emily offered but Freddy was just as intrigued as she was.

“I believe I will be with you until the end, whatever that may be Emilia Darling.” Freddy returned before he sat down at the table to get some breakfast.

“If I may be so bold and if you’ll forgive my saying so,” Rolf began and paused to see her reaction, she raised a curious brow but her facial expression was of ease, inviting and curious which only emboldened him to finish his statement. “You two make quite the pair.” Rolf noted as Emily stayed right where she was next to Rolf feeling she was safer with Rolf than she was with any of the other guests. Like she could be at ease with him without being offensive or improper, like she could be friends with him. He had such a warm and inviting manner to his person and he was unusually handsome to her and he had a gentle charm about him too which she found quite attractive.

“We are no pair at all, simply the best of friends who’ve known each other since childhood, we are closer than siblings and are like family but never more.” Emily whispered to Rolf as she spread her fan to cover her face and conceal her conversation with him but still offered him a friendly if not playful and fond smile which Rolf found enchanting. Most ladies plastered on fake or polite smiles, hers was different. It was genuine because even her eyes seemed to glitter and glow with delight. Rolf could understand why half of Europe was infatuated with her. Emily was lovely.

“Oh?” Rolf asked curiously, hoping to keep her company for as long as he could.

“My Dear Fredrick prefers the company of other men.” Emily whispered.

“I see,” Rolf nodded in understanding, his brother Fits would be delighted to learn that.

“So you can understand, as a lady who is constantly trying to get courted, how refreshing his company is and how much I can trust his companionship.” Emily added and Rolf could only nod in understanding and offer her a smile, he supposed if he were in her shoes, he would be the same way. “So if you’ll forgive my curiosity, how long have you been in service to his Lordship?” Emily asked since he seemed more talkative than most servants would be which she actually liked and enjoyed. Knowing that servants were people too and she usually received better service from them if she was kind and respectful to them and treated them with respect and dignity, that and it made her feel better as a person to be polite to them. Not thinking so highly of herself that she would look down on anyone else, especially servants.

“Since I was a boy.” Rolf answered.

“How often does his Lordship like to play such games?” Emily inquired.

“More often than not.” Rolf answered and Emily nodded in understanding.

“Thank you for your candor Sir Rolf, I greatly appreciate it.” Emily graciously thanked him.

“Thank you for yours Lady Bellim.” Rolf answered in kind and Emily couldn’t help but smile and felt a kinship to him and sat down to breakfast herself as Rolf watched her appreciatively. Most of the other people there talked down to him because they perceived him to be a servant when in reality, his father was Count Sparta and Lord of the house and pretending to be the Steward and he himself was Lord Sparta, parading around as his assistant to weed out the undeserving of their guests. Rolf had expressed an interest in getting married and his father’s way of dealing with that was to have this charade, wanting only the most brave and clever girl to be his son’s wife and so far only Emily and a few other girls and their families remained, those ones however were the more despicable families in his opinion. He strode over to his brother to whisper Emily’s revelation to him, knowing his own brother also preferred the company of other men too, his brother absolutely delighted to hear the news and immediately traded places with one of the servants so that he could attend to Freddy himself.

After breakfast they were invited to tour the gardens, which they did. Emily and Freddy however easily crept out of them and really tried to survey the grounds and when they got to the other side of the house, they found bare wilderness, black smoke billowed out of some craggy rocks every so often near a cliff and at the cliff, there was a waterfall, the waters coming out from deep underneath the manor. Rolf watched from a distance, having panicked that he lost her on the grounds and went looking for her and breathed in relief when he found her but couldn’t help but appreciate Emily’s tenacity and bravery for exploring where she was, even laying on the ground to try to look over the cliff safely. Also appreciating the fact that she was more than a pretty face. She had a kindness and a humility to her nature that he found very appealing. He had heard many rumors about her, how she was as uncommonly pretty as she was clever, discerning and brilliant, too brilliant for a woman. Headstrong and lively too. Which to him were exactly what he was looking for. He wanted a wife to excite his mind as much as his body while warming his heart, he also heard rumors she was skittish, rebellious and refused to be coerced into anything she didn’t want to do and so far she had lived up to her reputation. He was looking forward to seeing how she would react to the next test.

At lunch his father got his own steward and his own steward’s sons to pose as himself and his sons, riding gallantly up the drive and making a grand entrance and apologizing that they had urgent business with the king that they needed to take care of at the last minute, Rolf and Fits carrying the large chest of gold coins as the ‘payment’ for their services to the king which worked like a charm as the other guests eyed the gold laden chest with the same hunger a starving man would look at a plated meal. Then the real Lords watched how all the other families would react to their replacements and to no one’s surprise, all the daughters were pushed to fawn over the fake heirs. Rolf was keenly delighted however when Emily was not one of them, even though she was amiable and polite, she didn’t throw herself at the acting Lord like the other girls did. Instead she seemed to be keen on observing him but the more she was around him, the more it was obvious to Rolf that she did not like his acting replacement and made no further bids for his time or attention. He watched Emily look out the window after playing a card game with his replacement and had won and cashed out the moment she got all the winnings instead of staying to continue to play as he came to stand next to her since the light in her brilliant aquamarine eyes had died a little and now she looked rather sullen and it pained him to see her so, usually any girl would be over the moon winning as much as she did but instead she was looking more sullen than the losers were- now that her back was to everyone else and no one else cared to see how she was.

“Are you alright Lady Bellim?” Rolf asked as he came to stand with her at the large window.

“Yes, perfectly alright Sir Rolf, many thanks for your concern.” Emily answered, her whole being lighting up and the warmth of her expression returning the moment she noticed him come near her.

“Do you not take delight in his Lordship?” Rolf asked, fearing Emilia had already seen through the ruse.

“Could I be honest with you without causing offense?” Emily asked warily but with hints of hopefulness.

“Please, by all means, you have a fantastic mind, please continue to bestow upon me the candor we enjoyed earlier.” Rolf invited and couldn’t help but let his own grin grow as hers did the same.

“His Lordship is handsome to be sure. However I have heard rumors from his previous tutors that his Lordship is supposed to be uncommonly clever and brilliant and so far I do not find him to be so. All of his gambles were, and continue to be- reckless and stupid. The other ladies loose on purpose so as to make him out to be the winner anyway and it wasn’t because he was dealt bad cards, it was because he played good cards badly. If he were to loose so they would gain on purpose is one thing but what he is doing is another. It was too easy to win against him, that is why I do not play with him now, he would loose this entire estate and I do not like to take unfair advantage of him or any other stupid person, it’s just not right.” Emily answered softly so that only Rolf would hear her. “To be such a Lord and to know that all this rests on his shoulders, he would know since birth to be more careful. It is as if he lives in a fantasy of his own making just like every other Lord and Noble who likes to squander their resources I know- and I do not care for it. And his conversation is lacking. It’s as deep as a puddle. He’s supposed to have some of the best education in all of Europe and so far he does not live up to his reputation. I’ve made mentions and references of the classics and the well known riddles and rhetoric and he responds as if I am speaking gibberish. I am profoundly disappointed.” Emily explained and Rolf was ready to kiss her because she saw through it without realizing it and she was a woman who knew her stuff and when he had overheard her conversations over the course of the card game, he was inwardly groaning and fighting not to join in himself because everything she said went over his replacement’s head and Rolf wanted to know her opinions on everything because she was educated and informed about everything she tried talking about. To have anyone be as educated as himself, his father and his brother was a rare treat and delight and his stand in, while knowledgeable about how to run an estate and how to take care of lord and guest alike, was severely lacking in all other topics but she was the only one to make it show. And he could do nothing but respect her for it. And respect her for staying true to herself and not dumb-ing herself down to flatter his replacements like the other girls instantly had.

“So what can you tell me about the cave under the manor, unless you must be getting back to your duties.” Emily initiated since she had his attention for the moment, might as well benefit from it and enjoy it.

“There is a natural gas leak into the cave system under the manor that spontaneously combusts. You should stay away from it.” Rolf warned her but instead of shock and horror at that revelation, he found a smug grin meeting his statement which was intriguing him to say the least.

“Too late, I found it last night, my grandmother wrote a letter to me- in it she told me to go ‘where death is eminent for the treasure of life’ along with a key to the door and I intend to do the opposite of that.” Emily revealed as she pulled a key out of her little purse, which was already stuffed with her winnings for the briefest of moments and Rolf blinked in surprise at her.

“Then if you insist on returning to that place, please permit me to join you, it would be improper for such a Lady as yourself to get injured on these grounds.” Rolf insisted- eager to leave the drawing room and the mindless banter and the disingenuous laughter. Even more eager to spend time one and one with her, even as improper as that was.

“Could we go now?” Emily asked as her features lit up with excitement.

“Of course.” Rolf answered.

“I believe I’ll get changed into proper attire first.” Emily said as she left and dressed into Freddy’s lower clothes which were simply what he wore when he wanted to be comfortable before Freddy and Rolf’s brother Fits joined them as Rolf tried and failed not to look at the shapeliness of her legs and hips. Thinking that women in trousers, well her in trousers was quite becoming actually. He wondered what she would be like riding astride on a horse or better yet, riding astride him but he quickly tried and failed to push that thought from his head.

“So where are we going then?” Freddy asked.

“To the burning caves under the house, care to join me?” Emily beamed happily as she put all the letters and put them into a small leather satchel for later reference.

“But of course.” Freddy agreed as he changed into some lower clothes too and the four of them set off and Rolf watched in fascination as Emily seemed to know exactly where she was going as if she had grown up here herself as they took a lantern and with Emily once again opening the door with her key, they gained entry and started traversing the caves.

“How well have you explored these caves Sir Rolf?” Emily asked Rolf.

“Please, just Rolf, Lady Bellim.” Rolf corrected, he wanted her to use his name, that title would do him little good down here. He hated it down here and only came down here when absolutely necessary or from a direct order of his father to retrieve something in particular.

“If you are going to dispense with formality, in my case then I ask that you do the same. Emily, please.” Emily insisted as she shook hands with him as they were soon grinning happily at each other.

“So back to my question, how well have you explored these caves Rolf?” Emily asked.

“Not well at all.” Rolf professed as they trudged through, the lantern turned up so as to light up the caves better.

“And you?” Emily asked Fits.

“This is the first time in them My Lady.” Fits answered nervously, their father always threatened them with throwing them in here as punishment growing up and he was nearly pissing himself in fear, but as such Freddy and himself had already dispensed with formality and had talked all through the card game and Fits was already becoming loath to leave Freddy’s side.

“Please, Emily, we are all friends here are we not?” Emily asked.

“Indeed we are Emily.” Fits beamed. He could see what his brother liked about her. She had an ease to her that most girls did not before the gas ignited and they all dove down to the ground, Fits and Freddy falling to try to shield each other and Emily as Rolf shielded Emily completely with himself and once the flames extinguished the four got up and dusted themselves off.

“Well that was exciting.” Emily beamed happily, happy that Rolf hadn’t tried to sneak a feel of her at all, simply tried to protect her courageously, which she thought was sweet of him as he helped her back up to her feet.

“You are the only one who could think so Emily.” Fits grumbled, having nearly fainted when that happened.

“The breeze is coming from over there.” Freddy realized when he licked his finger to feel the direction of the breeze more keenly.

“Yes but our expedition earlier proved that there is nothing in that direction but a vent in a ceiling, I came to see if these caves are connected to the water.” Emily explained as Fits and Rolf looked at each other in surprise. She was smarter than they had estimated. “So in my experience, head closer to the humidity and downwards.” Emily suggested before they came to a fork. One leading upwards while the other went downwards.

“The gas likes to gravitate towards elevation, thus why it ignites in the ceiling, we will be safer if we head downwards if we were to head upwards the ignition line will only lower to our level and burn us up for sure.” Emily noted as Fits grew even more afraid and Freddy, took a leap and held onto Fits’ hand as the two clung to one another as Emily grinned encouragingly at Freddy.

“Do you know fear at all Emily?” Rolf asked as they went further down the second tunnel grabbing her hand to steady her decent as he went first before her through the deepening charred guano that was starting to get wetter in shallower depths.

“Of course I do, it is because I respect it so that I have gotten this far.” Emily answered. “Do you know why there was screaming last night?” Emily asked Rolf seemingly as an afterthought.

“I do not, when we came upon the other guests, they claimed they had seen ghosts.” Rolf only partially lied, himself and his brother and father and half the staff dressing up as ghosts to scare their guests away on purpose.

“Well it can be argued that most estates are haunted. The unspeakable acts usually unfolded within the walls of the wealthy and powerful make them such.” Emily reasoned.

“I do hope you have never been a victim of such atrocities?” Rolf ventured, appalled that she would be resigned to such a notion, wanting to protect her from such crimes.

“Of course I have, I’m an orphan and heiress to an estate, I have known nothing but. Talk seriously with any Mistress and she’ll tell you the horrors of every Lord. I am lucky in that I have a choice in the matter, most in my position do not.” Emily returned and Rolf found himself helpless to not respect such an answer.

“However, upon hearing statements from the other guests, I do wonder if perhaps several servants were simply under sheets with holes cut out for the eyes, based on the fact that ghosts cast neither shadow or make human sounds, like snickering laughter and loud thundering steps when they run. Surely if I see a ghost I am throwing my cross at it and if it goes right through, it’s a real ghost, if it makes contact with something solid, it is simply a joke-ster. I have heard rumors that Lord Sparta does enjoy a good ruse, it would not surprise me in the least if he put his own servants up to scaring his own guests.” Emily mused as she watched Rolf and Fits look away guiltily and narrowed her eyes playfully as her grin grew smug.

“Well surely if I get approached by such a ghost, there are plenty suits of armor in the halls, I shall not hesitate to grab a spear or javelin and run them through with it.” Emily professed.

“And Emily is quite inept at throwing things, like a modern David and Goliath.” Freddy boasted as Rolf and Fits looked at each other worriedly as they both made mental notes to not even attempt to scare her later and would be warning the others of that to leave Emily and Freddy alone lest something tragic happen.

“I have heard rumors that you are uncommonly clever and brave. I am blessed to know these rumors are true, his Lordship would be a fool for not wanting you like all the rest.” Rolf praised, changing the subject.

“That buffoon upstairs? No thank you. Although being mistress of these caves would be a wonder but I doubt I shall ever get to explore them again. As soon as he chooses a bride and the real prize is revealed, I’m sure we will all be sent home. But this has been a most fun game and I’ll mourn it’s loss when it’s done.” Emily returned as Fits snickered a laugh at Emily’s bluntness as Rolf could only stare at her in awed amazement.

“You would make the best mistress of these caves.” Fits praised.

“Thank you, that is the highest praise I’ve ever received.” Emily beamed happily before they heard the flames light up again and they all dove to the ground once again. Rolf, shielding Emily with himself again as Fits and Freddy did the same to each other and Emily true to Emily’s guess, the flames only hugged the ceiling this time and quickly running up towards the other passages. Knowing they all would have been dead for sure if they hadn’t followed her direction.

“Ha! I knew it! They do lead to the water!” Emily beamed as she found a stream as Rolf was careful with the lantern to only light up the stream, the mass of their fortune in giant chests on the other side of the stream along with the stairwell that led directly to his father’s room and he didn’t want Emily to see that part. Although if she was brave enough to traverse these caves perhaps she was entitled to it on that merit alone.

“Come on.” Emily urged them.

“Woah, woah, woah, what are you doing?” Rolf stopped her when she made a run for the stream.

“I’m going to ride down the waterfall it’s not that tall, I’ve jumped from higher. You go feet first.” Emily giggled and Rolf just smiled brighter at her. She was perfect.

“Not without me.” Rolf said once he grabbed a firm hold onto her hand and they both made a run for the stream and jumped in together, both of them cackling with laughter as their splash extinguished the lantern.

“Is she always like that?” Fits asked Freddy as they clung to each other in the darkness.

“Yeah, come on, before the cave alights again.” Freddy said as he led Fits over to the river’s edge as they both jumped in hand in hand too.

“I have never in my life, done anything like this.” Fits admitted with a laugh as they felt the stream carry them down before, in an act of courage kissed Freddy before Freddy kissed him back.

“Isn’t this so much fun?” Emily asked Rolf as they floated further down stream as they both fought to keep their heads above water while still keeping a hold of each other.

“It is.” Rolf laughed despite himself before the mouth of the falls appeared.

“Ok feet first!” Emily laughed as she gripped his hand even tighter before they both yelled in delight as they plummeted to the lake below followed closely by Freddy and Fits who both hollered loudly as Rolf and Emily laughed before they made sure they were all ok before they swam to the shore and once on land the four of them laughed until they were crying and continued to talk all the way back to the estate.

“It would be a pleasure to be your friend Rolf and if I could ever steal you away from his Lordship, I would, in heartbeat.” Emily offered to Rolf once he dropped her off at her room while Freddy went with Fits to get some clean dry clothes in his own temporary room because that kiss ignited their own fire.

“Only if you’ll allow me the same opportunity.” Rolf returned charmingly.

“Deal.” Emily grinned as she handed him her hand for him to shake again as he shook it before he kissed her hand affectionately and that kiss sent a shivering, delightful tingle throughout Emily’s body, the first kiss she had ever received to elicit such a reaction from her before she, out pure rebelliousness did the same to him which made him blush and smile bashfully. He really loved her now before she felt even bolder and used her hold on his hand and pulled him in to kiss him before he kissed her back, framing her beautiful face with his hands as she wrapped her arms around him to pull him flush with herself and felt the heat of his body come through their drenched clothes.

“You should get dressed for dinner Emily.” Rolf insisted even though he wanted to take things further but knew if he did, the jig would be up and he confess to everything and he would ruin it all.

“You’re right, forgive me for...” Emily began, slightly embarrassed that she wanted more. But not at all ashamed that she wanted it from him rather than Lord Sparta himself.

“Nothing to forgive.” Rolf cut her off and Emily just smiled wider at him.

Over dinner Emily naturally sat at the other end of the table away from her hosts to let the other girls and their families try their hand and wooing them. She was beyond disinterested and she ate quite a bit, as if it was her last meal there and the food was beyond delicious and so she gorged herself as if at any moment, Lord Sparta would dismiss her and Freddy- to bid them to go home as Fits and Rolf waited on them, sneaking the best and most delicious wine to them. But to Emily’s surprise, his Lordship didn’t bid her goodbye. However when she came back to her room for the evening, she found the #5 letter pinned to her door and Emily grinned when she realized the game was still being played as she took it and put it with the others and grinned wider when it started to make even more sense. Like a giant puzzle.

“Emily? Would you mind if I spent the night with another?” Freddy asked as he came to stand beside her.

“As long as it’s Fits, I don’t mind one bit.” Emily returned proudly.

“Then don’t mind.” Freddy grinned triumphantly as he kissed her cheek sweetly and got his things and left again. Soon after the doors locked again and Emily simply shrugged and sighed contentedly as she got ready for bed, adding another blanket to the bed so she would stay warm and she slept so soundly she didn’t wake to hear the screams of the other guests through the night knowing that it was a hoax and that there was nothing to really fear at all.

In the morning, she found she had actual attendants to help her with her hair and dressing along with a new necklace. Emily frowned as she allowed them to put the necklace on her. But at breakfast she saw one family leaving already, the girl crying that she wanted to stay and strolled right up to the young Lord Sparta, the one she was supposed to be wooing but had no interest in doing so.

“Lord Sparta.” Emily began as she curtsied.

“Yes good morning Lady Bellim.” He smiled charmingly at her.

“Is Lady Willowbe being sent home by your Lordship or is she going home of Lord Willowbe’s will?” She asked.

“Both, Lady Bellim.” He answered.

“Why? Did not your Lordship take delight in her? She seemed quite happy to compete for your attention. Why not send me home instead to allow her to stay?” Emily inquired.

“Because you are still playing the game. She sought to cheat.” He answered.

“Lord Sparta, I have already cheated, I’ve stolen some of the other guests’ letters.” Emily confessed.

“No, that does not break the rules at all,” he argued as Emily simply frowned in confusion at him.

“Could you please tell me all the rules then? I would not like to break them by accident and forfeit my place in the game then.” Emily returned.

“No, where would the fun be in that?” He grinned before he walked off leaving Emily to think over his words. Maybe he was smarter than she gave him credit for and maybe he was playing dumb on purpose the day before.

After breakfast they went to the drawing room as the girls showed off their accomplishments with the piano forte’s and songs and poetry and Emily begrudgingly participated only because Lord Sparta invited her to do so that flirted with demanded in tone as she was almost predisposed to tell him to ‘piss off’ before she indulged him and the other guests in doing as requested before she played another game with him and was surprised when he was a much better player this time but Emily still felt as if everything was wrong about him. After games, they went to the garden to try to get through the maze and Emily grabbed a hold of Rolf again.

“I do not wish to go through this maze with Lord Sparta, I’d much prefer to go through it with you.” Emily told him and smiled when he smiled in turn.

“Of course My Lady.” Rolf offered his elbow to her to escort her through it and smiled again when she hugged his arm and seemed to have a system to go through the maze reaching out and keeping her right hand continuously on the wall to her right. Another piece of advice given to her by her grandmother.

“I must confess something Rolf.” She began as they found a lonely corner of the maze, away from the gazes and ears of the others.

“Surely you have done nothing to be confessed to.” Rolf began.

“On the contrary I continuously do things wrong that must be confessed to. I am not playing the game fairly. I stole some of the other’s guests letters.” Emily confessed again.

“I believe that’s one of the ways to play the game Emily.” Rolf answered, albeit a little apologetically since he could clearly see she wasn’t enjoying herself around his replacement.

“Then if you have such knowledge, won’t you share it with me Dear Rolf?” Emily asked, giving him a hopeful yet pleading look and Rolf would have given every coin he had to continue to hear her talk to him so endearingly and affectionately for the rest of his life.

“I only know some of the rules but I will tell them to you.” Rolf answered before he told her all that he knew that his own father had told him.

“Would Fits know more?” Emily asked as they neared the center of the maze.

“No, Fits and I were told all of that together.” He told her and thought her pout of disappointment was absolutely adorable. “But his Lordship’s finery does look quite fetching on you.” Rolf praised as he appreciated how good Emily looked in his late mother’s necklace and had to laugh when Emily rolled her eyes.

“He is wasting it on me. While I do not wish to offend his Lordship by not wearing it. It does not endear him to me. If anything it poses to push me farther away from him because every other Lord tries to woo me with jewels. I suppose it was his late mother’s necklace, judging by how fine it is. I dare not take it with me when he sends me home.” Emily insisted.

“How can you be so certain that you will be sent home?” Rolf asked.

“Because I have no interest in his Lordship. I do not flatter him, I do not fawn over him. If he is the only prize in this game perhaps I should forfeit now. I simply do not care for him. Yesterday he was overly stupid, today he is trying too hard to be overly clever. He is all wrong. It is as if he’s a first time actor trying to play the role of his Lordship and he keeps getting his lines wrong. Besides, I’d much rather spend more time with you, I feel you’d play better games and provide better banter for me anyway.” Emily praised as she hugged his arm tighter before he stopped and couldn’t help but kiss her again, happy that she pulled him flush with herself first and leaned her head up to kiss him, having realized he wanted to kiss her and realizing she wanted to be kissed for once, if only by him though.

“Do not play the game for him then, play it for me, if you win, you can have me as the prize instead.” Rolf whispered when they broke for air.

“You drive a very hard bargain Dearest. Very well, only for you then.” Emily begrudgingly agreed before she kissed him again, feeling quite addicted to his kisses already.

The next day, they did some riding and shooting, Emily not holding back and hitting more birds than young Lord Sparta did. Rolf unbelievably pleased that Emily was the only one genuinely trying while the rest of the ladies refused to try more than once, Emily saving the dogs more than once because of how bad those ladies were at shooting. Emily was also the only woman to wear browns, tweeds and trousers so she could ride astride the horses and not spook the game while all the other ladies wore bright colors and pretty dresses and had to ride side saddle and could move no faster than a walk on the horses while Freddy, Fits, Rolf and Emily got to run and canter all over the country side as much as their hearts desired. Rolf put Emily on his own favorite horse which was one of the faster ones in the stables and watched as she rode it just as well as he usually did and in dead runs, she won out, leaping and jumping over logs and boulders with ease, not caring in the least if she got dirty because she was genuinely having fun and it was a sight for Rolf to see while his ears eagerly took in the sounds of her delighted laughter and conversation.

Over the course of the week, Emily tried to play more fairly and more nicely with her competitors and his Lordship and every other morning, another girl was sent home but that evening Emily got a new letter pinned to her door until the end of the week. She felt she had all but one of the Fibonacci sequence pages and understood most of it until it was herself and one other lady were all that remained, the other lady being Viscountess Eliza from England and Eliza stared cloaked daggers at Emily every time she looked at her. Emily however was undisturbed by this and Rolf simply watched with pride as Emily seemingly took it all in stride and let Eliza’s actions and sugar coated venom-ed words roll off of her like water from a duck’s back. While Emily did her best to befriend her host, Lord Sparta, she could not harbor feelings for him besides the polite platonic kind since her budding romance with Rolf bloomed more and more each day, he even came up with mini games just for the two of them to play which she was keen to play and win if only because she was playing with Rolf over everyone else. Usually he would have been scared she saw straight through the ruse but at the same time, he didn’t care. He really liked her and was starting to really love her and adored her and missed her when they parted for the night and it was getting harder and harder to play the role of a servant but his own servant who was playing his role took it with stride as the two tried to help each other with their reversed roles.

At the end of the week, Emily found herself walking through the greenhouse with Rolf, who seemed to be her constant companion when Freddy was no where to be found, the few times he did show up, was simply to tell her that he was fine and that he was currently getting lost in Fits which she congratulated him for and was happy that he was finding love and happiness, even as unintended as it was.

“Do you know if his Lordship will make his decision soon?” Emily asked as she wanted to smell every fragrant bloom in the greenhouse and was currently nose deep in the most fragrant roses.

“Why do you ask?” Rolf asked, not wanting his time with her to end, ever.

“Well Freddy is quite in love with Fits and I don’t want to separate them by loosing to the game too early and I do enjoy your company and I would be loathed to part from you and I’m prepared to make an offer for you from his Lordship but I do not know if he will part with you and Fits but this is proving tortuous for Eliza and I don’t wish for needless suffering.” Emily reasoned and Rolf was burning up inside, wanting to tell her everything but couldn’t.

“Are you missing home at all?” Rolf asked, trying to change the subject again.

“Yes and no. I miss my servants who are proving to be the few loyal friends I have anymore.” Emily admitted as she pet the petals of a lily before smelling it and smiling softly at the scent. “Truth is I have very few friends indeed. All ladies my age are my competitors, all men period are usually my suitors and they look at me and see a pretty face behind a large purse, a trophy to put in a glass case or a gilded cage, or better yet some kind of wild animal they hope to tame to stroke their own egos or the living embodiment of His Holiness that they can attain. Or worse yet, money grabbers who think I have a grand fortune and will receive even greater once my grandmother passes. But it’s all a lie. I live a very modest life, barely getting by some years. The estate took most of my inheritance and the wages of the servants and doctors and caretakers of my grandmother take the rest of it. All the finery I wear is actually “gifts” from all the other nobles and lords- payment for coyly flirting with them for a week at a time, feeding them crumbs of false hope that they are “wearing me down” to accept them. I hate it. It makes me feel like a harlot, selling my attention like that. Never myself mind you but still, far too close for my liking. I refuse to sell my pride or my self respect though. Perhaps it’s that- that everyone else is after and while I spend my birthday week at the Vatican with his Holiness, he barely remembers me anymore. That cross I wore is the only thing he’s ever bestowed upon me and I do not have the heart to ask him for anything. I’m not noble by blood, my blood is no more noble than yours is, I was just blessed at birth and my father got promoted to his station when the previous holder of it died. My mother was a camp follower for Christ’s sake and while everyone treats me like I’m royalty I know they only do so until I choose someone, then once the truth about me is found out, they’ll treat me like the trash I think they all secretly think I am. The only power I have is my ability to see things for the way they are and say no.” Emily confessed as she smelled the fragrant jasmine before sitting down to tea with Rolf that was just brought to them.

“Then don’t play to such horrible people Dearest.” Rolf said simply.

“I would love nothing more than to take your advice and simply quit it all but I have the livelihoods of many who depend on me. My grandmother is nearly senile and caring for her is very costly, that’s why I gamble, all my winnings go to actually taking care of myself and feeding and clothing myself because my living can not sustain myself to the degree everyone expects of me and my estate and my grandmother. Freddy’s father is about to be considered senile himself and is at risk of being enemies with the state every time he goes into a tirade rant. I don’t know how much longer either of us can hold out.” Emily worried, showing her rare vulnerable side, but only because she felt she knew she could trust Rolf with such things, he had never taken advantage of her and always waited until she initiated contact first.

“It sounds like you’re tired My Dear.” Rolf surmised.

“I am.” Emily huffed a laugh as she sipped her tea. “The tea is delicious today, what kind is this again?” Emily asked.

“You see that bright red flower on that bush right there?” Rolf asked as he pointed to the blooms in question as Emily nodded yes in confirmation. “That is a hibiscus, this is tea made from the flowers.” Rolf answered.

“Such a beautiful flower makes equally beautiful tea.” Emily grinned happily as she continued to drink it and savor it.

“I’ve noticed you have a healthy appetite. Most ladies pick at their foods like delicate birds, I know the cooks work hard on the food and it seems like you’re the only one who enjoys it and it makes me happy to see you enjoy the meals.” Rolf praised as he watched her try all the cakes, having asked the cooks to really outdo themselves to make something that she would deem as her favorite so he could lavish it on her.

“They do work very hard and I do thoroughly enjoy everything and it feels like a waste if I do not at least try all of it. I don’t care if I appear gluttonous with the others, back at home I usually eat whatever the servants cook for themselves because it’s more cost effective if I do. A lot of expense can be spent on just a meal for myself, my grandmother already needs such a special diet, I would prefer for her to eat well rather than myself. You’d be surprised how long I can subsist on soups and stews with breads alone.” Emily confessed before she continued to devour the special lemon and berry cakes, quite liking those. “Although I must say, this is exquisite, I could eat a case of these.” Emily noted as Rolf beamed happily at her as he made a mental note of that.

“Maybe your fortune will change and you’ll be able to eat like you do here all the time, wherever you go, especially at home.” Rolf offered.

“Don’t curse me like that.” Emily returned with a frown.

“Curse? What curse? How is that a curse?” Rolf asked in astonishment.

“Because the only way that will happen is if I marry a Lord, one of the overstuffed buffoons who try to tempt me with such things. I would rather come here and serve as a maid and eat whatever the servants here eat if it means I can eat with you every day. I am not above such things. It would be honest work and I’d be happy making honest money for honest work. Granted in order to do that, my grandmother would probably have to die first and I’d have to sell the estate and that would probably pull my heart and soul from my body to do but if that’s how I have to survive then so be it. I can only hope the next mistress treats my friends well.” Emily explained.

“I will give you every coin I have to make sure that never happens.” Rolf offered.

“Oh hush, don’t speak of such nonsense. I would never ask that of you. You’ve earned your wages and you should use them to take care of yourself and your own loved ones, surely you have family outside of this estate who needs those funds more than I. I can get by, I obviously do. I know how hard life can be for servants no matter their master. Use it for those in a worse state than I. I just wanted you to know the truth of the matter. Every other man has their own fantasy of my fortune and I don’t have the heart to tell them it’s already gone. You have been honest with me, I need to be honest with you in return. You deserve more than the false hope I feel I have to shell out to everyone else. You deserve the truth. You deserve better than I could ever hope to give you.” Emily insisted and Rolf both wanted to break down and cry or throw up from guilt but at the same breath, confess to his own truth. Feeling she deserved it in turn and could barely stomach this charade any longer. He waited until she was done chewing and swallowed before he kissed her tenderly. Feeling bad for kissing her instead of telling her the truth. But kissing her was the best and easiest thing he could do for now.

“And you deserve better than I could ever give you. If you truly wish to stay with me here, I’ll make the arrangements, if you want me to go home with you, I will, without a second thought or hesitation, the Count and his Lordship be damned. Just give me a little bit more time my dearest Emily.” Rolf breathed as he stroked her gorgeous face before she turned her head slightly to kiss his palm as her hands came to rest over his own. Usually she would have been on the other side of the greenhouse to keep space between herself and everyone else but she wanted to be close to him and she craved his touch and his closeness as much as her body craved breath and every moment they could steal away and enjoy their privacy like this, she cherished. Her own grandmother be damned for marrying ‘beneath’ her. She loved Rolf and since she had the power to choose for herself, she was going to choose him, no matter the cost.

“Alight.” Emily nodded in agreement.

The next morning however at breakfast there were still only two girls left, Emily and Eliza and his lordship did not come to breakfast instead another attendant came and made an announcement.

“Miss Eliza, you are the winner of the grand game, please turn in your letter to receive your prize.” He announced and Eliza lit up with excitement and quickly handed over her letter that she had not let Emily look at- at all and had horded and guarded this whole time as Emily blew out a breath of relief before she offered her congratulations to Eliza for a game well played and won.

“Miss Emilia, your prize for being the runner up.” The attendant said as he handed Emily the last letter.

“Thank you.” Emily beamed as she took it and added it to the others.

“Where are all the rest of them? I had page 144.” Eliza frowned.

“Have you ever heard of Fibonacci, Miss Eliza?” Rolf asked as he came strutting into the room, wearing his proper clothes with his attendant, who had been parading as Lord Sparta following behind him dressed in his proper steward in training clothes.

“Fiba- who?” Eliza asked in confusion as Emily did a double take and just gasped in shock and stared in stunned silence at Rolf, her mouth hanging open almost comically as her eyes were wide before she remembered to cover her mouth with her hand. Rolf looked so handsome dressed up before she realized all the signs that he had been Lord Sparta all along. No servant should have been so candid and conversational with her but she had been so desperate for his kindred companionship she hadn’t cared to notice the impropriety of it before she just couldn’t help but smile to herself before smiling adoringly at to him- her eyes welling with tears as she wanted to cry from her overwhelming emotions. She should have known all along, normally she would have been furious being tricked like this but she didn’t care. Her prize of Rolf- had not changed and she was happy to have him in whatever form he would take. Then she took her necklace off, the very piece that was the late Countess Sparta’s necklace and threw it at him jokingly to make sure he wasn’t a ghost himself which got both of them to laugh as he easily caught it.

“Fibonacci, is a famed mathematician, he had a formula for numbers, start with zero, zero plus one, is one again, one plus one is two, one plus two is three, two plus three is five and so on and so forth, adding the previous two numbers to get to the next.” Emily answered Eliza’s question as Emily showed Eliza all the letters and pointed to the numbers in the upper right hand corner as Eliza realized she was the victim of a cruel trick herself and stared hatefully at the very man she had been trying to ensnare all week.

“So are you my prize then? A servant?” Eliza sneered at the manservant.

“Of course not my Lady, your prize is this.” He answered as he placed a simple but small bar of gold in front of her. “Is this not what you have been digging and vying for all this time?” He taunted before she huffed and took the bar of gold and got up and stormed off to her rooms with it as she quickly got ready to leave before Rolf put his mother’s necklace back on Emily.

“Thank you for not actually throwing a spear Dearest.” Rolf gently teased as he touched her shoulders affectionately and kissed the back of her head.

“Next time.” Emily teased back as she looked up at him, looking at his handsome face upside down, the two laughed again before Emily turned her attention back to the steward in training.

“So what is your real name Sir?” Emily asked the manservant with a grin.

“Byron.” He said as he held his hand out to shake hers.

“Pleasure to meet you Sir Byron.” Emily greeted him. “And if I can just say, you make a terrible lord.” Emily teased which earned a laugh from everyone, especially Bryon and Rolf and his father- William as Rolf sat down next to her as William sat at the head of the table as Freddy and Fits finally reappeared, having done nothing but lay together and draw closer all week in Fits’ real room. Fits sat to the left his father and Freddy sat on the other side of Fits and sat in Eliza’s seat across from Emily as Freddy beamed proudly at Emily for being the real winner of the grand game.

“This my dear Emily, is your prize.” Rolf said as he put a ring box on the table in front of Emily before Emily put her stack of letters down on the table between them to open it and found an engagement ring, a smaller miniature version of the pink panther diamond they had found and returned earlier that week before Emily offered her left hand so Rolf could put the ring onto her hand.

“And I am honored to receive such a prize.” Emily returned as she just smiled adoringly at Rolf before turning her attention to his father William. “And I must applaud you Count Sparta for putting together such a fantastic game, I see from the rules that you yourself are very well read, pulling from the great minds of the masters of the Renaissance especially.” Emily praised Lord Sparta who beamed happily at her.

“And I must applaud you for seeing so easily through the guises.” He returned. “You will bring much to this family, if you choose to stay.” He returned to her.

“I believe I will.” Emily grinned as she squeezed Rolf’s hand from under the table. “But I must also tell you that my estate is a mere fraction of what most think it to be. All the wealth I had has been put towards the upkeep of the manor and care of my own servants who I count as friends.” Emily revealed.

“And it is because you invested your funds as such that made you such an invaluable treasure, when my son told me as such I knew you had won the game and so I put an end to it today, not wanting you to suffer any more than you already have, especially at that horrid girl’s lack of manners. You are by far the most superior lady I have ever come in contact with besides my own dear Contessina and I know you will look after this estate with the same care you do your own manor. That is why I gave your grandmother the key to the letters and the key to the caves, because if you were brave enough to traverse them, you will no doubt bravely walk next my son through life.” Lord Sparta smiled appreciatively at her. “When Rolf said he wanted to marry, I devised this plan so that not only would a wise and brilliant woman figure it out, but a brave and courageous yet kind heart-ed woman would win my son. I understand you are quite the problem solver and the beholder of many fantastic ideas, I’d love to hear them if you will be so kind as to share them with us.” Lord Sparta invited as she blushed and smiled bashfully at such praise, but knowing it was sincere- meant the world to her.

“If you will send for Fredrick’s father, who is not just a brilliant scientist but inventor as well, I believe together we can find a solution to the gas problem, I think if you could manage to collect it and harness it safely and keep it from self igniting. It would prove very useful.” Emily began.

“Then please do tell.” Lord Sparta invited before Emily took a deep breath and began to tell him all sorts of ideas as she felt the same ease and free-ness she would feel at home.

That night after rounds of games and cards with the real lords and being thrilled to finally play them well with her fiance and his father, brother and Freddy and in return, be played well with. Rolf led Emily to his real quarters since one of the rules of the game were that no lady would lie with anyone for the duration of the game and now that the game was over, they were both more than eager to be together before her things were put into the room as well to stay with him until the wedding that would be planned the next day.

“At last, we can be completely alone.” Rolf breathed in relief once they were both undressed and redressed in their night clothes but Emily had quickly and easily stripped out of her night gown the moment they were under the covers as Rolf did the same.

“Yes, at last.” Emily giggled as Rolf had Emily roll on top of him and ride him just like he had imagined all week, wanting Emily to continue to have all the control she wanted, both of them moaning at finally being joined as they kissed each other very deeply and Emily felt no ill feelings at being touched and caressed, instead of feeling dread, she felt at ease and happiness in addition to be wanted but more importantly treasured and respected most of all as she put his hands to her body without a hint of embarrassment or shyness. “Please my Dearest Emily, tell me and instruct me how to please you best.” Rolf pleaded desperately, wanting and needing to give her every pleasure and Emily could have cried she was so moved by such a sentiment that she told him exactly how and was blown away when he was able to pull from her body and soul the sweetest of pleasured releases as she did the same to him.

“You will be the best Lady Sparta.” Rolf praised as he laid next to Emily and wiped the sweat from his brow as they both panted as they recovered, their bodies still alight with delight.

“Only if you’ll be the best Lord Sparta, forever at my side.” Emily returned as she found herself in his embrace once again.

“Always.” Rolf smiled before he kissed her again.

“And quit kissing me instead of telling me things. I realized you kissed me instead of telling me the truth all week, you must stop that this instant, please tell me everything from now on.” Emily insisted.

“I was under oath from my father! I had very little choice in the matter, I swear.” Rolf insisted as Emily gave him a playfully unimpressed look.

“I swear on my mother’s grave I told you all I could without ruining the game. If I did, the game would be over and forefit and I could never hope to see you or speak to you again, those were the rules placed upon me.” Rolf swore as Emily gave him a softened hard look but detected he was telling her the truth.

“Very well, but I have a favor to ask of you Dearest.” Emily began.

“Anything.” Rolf returned.

“My grandmother’s doctors have advised me that my grandmother can not be moved from the house. Would you mind terribly moving to my estate until she passes? It can not be long now.” Emily requested.

“I wouldn’t mind at all, we could leave as soon as you wish.” Rolf immediately answered.

“Thank you My Love.” Emily cooed as she kissed him again, in the morning, they did indeed plan for their wedding and even agreed on invitations while the servants got everything ready for their departure and the very next day after that Rolf had an entire chest of gold and treasure put onto one of his father’s very grand and very luxurious dormeuse, with his brother and Freddy taking another with yet another chest with them. Freddy already wearing some of Fits clothes while Rolf had already ordered loads of dresses for Emily so that she would always be the most well dressed woman in the room that would rival even royalty and once inside the carriage, Emily giddily closed the curtains so that her and Rolf could continue to enjoy maritals on the journey home.

#dude #I don't know how to tag this #it's just #weird #the pink panther #crossed over with #Harlots #Count of Montecristo #those three fandoms should have absolutley nothing in common #but here I am #this isn't even a trail blazer #this is just me with a fire hose setting my dumpster fire of a story on fire and inviting all of you poor souls to watch it burn #along with a peice of my sanity which now that it's out #I will hopefully get back #and fucking focus #on the more important pressing stories that need updates to keep living #it's hard being this god damn crazy of a writer you know? it's exhausting honestly and inspiration is a fickle fickle bitch

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