#and the belt still shone for lief

[wickedcriminal]

King Lief, where he wasn't actually the true heir to Adin by blood, but was still the true heir by heart.

Where Endon's bloodline really did die, but by uniting the belt, using it wisely, and proving himself worthy to all the tribes in Deltora, Lief became king anyway.

[theoakleafpancake]

And welcome to “salty-character-accidentally-adopts-children” appreciation hours! Starring Lief and Barda

Just an elaborate way of saying that I write dq fanfic now

It was late in the night, and yet the lone figure still hadn't left the balcony. His tired eyes were scanning the skies without end, as if waiting for the Enemy to come swooping down upon them.

"You'll wear yourself thin if you do not sleep," Barda said quietly. The boy didn't look at him as he approached, hands clasping the railing tightly. Beneath the cloak shone the Belt, as bright and fear-inspiring as the day it had been created.

"I cannot sleep." This time, Lief looked at him. "The battle is won. Deltora is free. But what if the captives, of the Shadowlands? I won't allow myself to abandon them."

"And we will not." He laid a hand on Lief's shoulder. "I swear on my life."

And it was true. Barda was a man of his word, and the thought of leaving the people of Deltora to rot in the Shadowlands made his skin crawl.

"I won't stay behind." His voice cut through the man's thoughts. Lief's eyes were like fire, his chin lifted in that familiar stubborn expression. "When we go, I will go with you.”

Barda looked at him for a long moment. "Barda." The boy grasped his arm. "Barda, I can't allow my people to suffer! What kind of King would I be if I sat complacently in the palace, wringing my hands? I would be no better than—" He cut off his words, his hands falling to his side. "Than the others."

The name had remained unspoken, and yet Barda knew exactly who Lief had meant to say. Years of bitterness was hard to break, and he was certain that Endon would have said nothing to defend himself.

How long had it been? A year, maybe a little less, since the two of them had stepped into those Forests, the Forests where they'd met Jasmine. The same Forests where their journey had truly begun.

Lief had been strong-willed and stubborn, thinking with his heart more often than his head. He still did, to this day, and yet he had grown so much more than Barda would have thought. And though he would never admit it, he was proud of the boy. Proud of the way he'd grown, and bitter of the heavy burden that had been placed upon Lief's shoulders. He no longer wore that determined smile. It was a shadow of the past, one small victory of the Shadow Lord.

"The Shadow Lord is still out there." Lief turned away, towards the sky. "I must stop him, Barda. I must."

Barda shook his head. "No, Lief," he said. "We must stop him."

[withickmire]

like a promise kept

Fandom: Deltora Quest Summary: The kingdom gathers to celebrate the wedding of their beloved king to one of their favourite heroes. Characters: Doom, Jasmine, Lief, Sharn, Ranesh, mentions of many others. Pairings: Lief/Jasmine, Jarred/Anna Notes: For the wonderful @dragonloverdoran​, who requested Doom & Jasmine’s relationship from Doom’s POV (which I don’t think I’ve ever really done!)

It was a glorious day. The chill of winter had long since melted into a lovely spring. Bright flowers bloomed in window boxes and gardens. Birds flitted merrily between the trees that dotted the palace hill, and all in Del― and many more from across Deltora― gathered beneath them.

The crowd began at nearly the top of the hill, and flooded well into the city. People chattered and laughed, embracing their neighbours on such a happy day. Vendors wandered through the masses, selling soft buns stuffed with vegetables and spicy meats, and small cups of ale. Children darted away from their parents and joined their friends, running loose amongst the people, as their king had once done not too long ago. Palace guards dressed in beautiful blue uniforms good-naturedly urged the people to separate into a path.

Doom stood surrounded by his friends. The top of the hill had been saved for the spectators dearest to Lief and Jasmine’s hearts. Everywhere Doom looked, there was someone he knew, and even more that he did not. Several people who had once fought at his side in the Resistance had already come to talk and share news. Manus and many from Raladin played music, and the people of Broome had somehow convinced a large group of Torans to join them in a strange, slightly awkward dance. It was incredible, Doom had to admit, to be able to see just how many lives Lief, Jasmine, and Barda had touched. All were dressed in their best clothes, and all were alight with happiness.

Doom himself had not been in clothes so fine since he was a boy. But these garments were not made by unseen servants, but by Sharn, who had despaired when she had first seen the clothes he had meant to wear. Sharn herself stood beside him, radiant in a yellow dress, her dark hair pulled down across one shoulder. Faint, nearly unnoticeable pink scars still lingered near her temples; reminders of her near-death only months before.

“They are late,” she said, her forehead furrowed with concern. “I hope they are not delayed by the crowd.”

Doom raised a dark brow. “I am sure the audience will alert us long before we see them.”

“Even so, it will take them an age to walk through all of that.” Ranesh had appeared behind them, silent as ever, even as he bounced tiny Josef on his hip. Sharn stroked a finger against the baby’s soft cheek.

“It is not a long walk from the forge at all,” Doom told him.

He risked a glance toward the bottom of the crowd, although he knew he would see nothing of interest yet. When he turned back, Sharn bit her lip to hide a smile.

“Jasmine told me you made her dress,” Doom said, and Sharn’s smile faltered a little.

“Have you seen it?” She asked, almost anxiously.

“She would not let me.”

As if on cue, the voices of the excited crowd grew to a roar where the base of the city met the swell of the hill. The Torans finally returned to Zeean, and the sweet music of the Ralads became more uniform. Sharn gripped Doom’s arm, and her dark eyes met his.

“Our children,” she mouthed. His large hand covered hers, and he knew that she was thinking of those who could not be there to witness, for he was too.

The cries of the people rose in waves as the little, hidden procession drew closer. The cries died eerily at once. Doom watches as fingers began to point towards the sky. Sharn let go of his arm with a gasp. Huge shadows passed over the crowd, and Doom turned his face to the clear sky. Seven shining dragons swooped closer and closer to the ground, and Sharn’s hair whipped against Doom’s face by the force of their wings. When the dragons had nearly reached the tops of the tall trees, they drew up again, startling amazed cries as the began flying in a steady spiral in the sky. Doom’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon the impossible creatures.

“Doom!” Sharn’s cry pulled him back to the earth. The cheers of Deltora had grown louder, and the crowd had begun to part a little more. And then― there they were.

Lief wore a splendid tunic of deep purple, which the Belt of Deltora shone brilliantly against in the sunlight. Filli’s little head poked out of his pocket, and Barda was two steps behind him in his uniform. Lief wore on his head a garland of sweet jasmine flowers, weaved by his own hands. The whole kingdom had come to share in his happiness, but he only eyes for Jasmine, whose hand he clutched so tightly.

Jasmine had threaded bright wildflowers of all colours in her mass of black hair, forming something akin to a chaotic, wonderful garden. Kree was perched on one shoulder, staring haughtily at the gathered crowd, and Marilen followed just steps behind, dressed in a pale blue robe. Jasmine’s broad grin flashed against her brown skin, and she laughed at something Lief whispered in her ear.

It was the dress she wore that Doom’s eyes were drawn to. It was a deep, forest green― not bright, like the emerald, or her eyes, but the shade of green that spoke of secrets hidden by deep woods. Thin sleeves stopped just below her shoulders, and the neckline grazed her collarbones. The rest of the dress was loose, so that her movements were free, and yet it flowed like water. The hem was between her knees and ankles, displaying her bare feet. The garment was made of delicate silk, something that would have never been available in Del at the time, but still he recognized it. It was Anna’s wedding dress.

Doom stepped back involuntarily, and Sharn’s hand returned to his arm.

“I hope this did not upset you,” she whispered in his ear. “You know I kept Anna’s dress hidden when you both left Del. Jasmine wondered if she could wear it, and she was so disheartened when it did not fit. I swore I would recreate it for her, and she asked me not to tell you, for she thought you might not like it…”

Jasmine and Lief grew closer still, and the world around Doom seemed to tilt. He could see Anna in the rough, homespun version she had worn, so happy as she took his hand in hers. He took a deep breath and blinked, and the world was right again. Memory gave way to reality. Jasmine was there, and she was in love― happy after years of hardship. This was not a day to grieve.

“You did a remarkable job,” he told Sharn truthfully through the noise of the crowd, and relief flooded her face, making painful words easier for him to say. “It is a beautiful dress.”

The cheers grew louder as the procession of four entered the massive group of their friends. Whoops and hollers rose from the Broome crowd, and the Dread Gnomes raised their fists in the air. Jasmine looked at the crowd then, her twinkling eyes dancing over her friends, and to Ranesh, then Sharn, and finally Doom. Her eyes lingered on his face a little too long, asking an unreadable, silent question. After a moment, Doom grinned widely, raising his hands and applauding as she passed. Jasmine’s smile broadened and his heart swelled.

Finally, the couple stood atop the hill. Barda clasped Lief’s shoulder, and said something Doom was just far away enough to not be able to hear, although he thought he might have made out the word ‘proud’. Marilen embraced Jasmine, and then stepped with Barda behind the pair. The extraordinarily large crowd fell silent as one. Doom could hear Sharn’s breathing beside him; laboured by tears.

Jasmine smiled and raised her right hand to cup Lief’s cheek, a customary action which he mirrored. Their left hands intertwined. They were silent for a moment, sharing silent secrets with their eyes. When they spoke, it was as if with one voice.

“It is our love, not our duty, that binds us on this day. You will shine in the light of my heart, and when I am lost, I will find my way home by the light of yours. Let my soul be your shelter, let my hands heal your wounds. I will stand against your fears, and I will be the cause of your joy.”

They were ancient words, first spoken by Adin and Zara on their wedding day, then repeated by Deltorans across the centuries. Again, Doom’s memories drifted, and he recalled how he had held Anna’s hand and cupped her cheek as they smiled through their wedding vow with only Crian to witness. She had been so beautiful, her cheeks flushed with joy. Doom glanced at Sharn, whose lips were moving along to the words in her own remembrance, eyes bright with happy tears.

“We shall be equal in all things, and divided in none,” Jasmine and Lief continued. “Let not war, nor sea, nor enemies part us. When death comes, it will be in my arms that you find rest. On this day, I give to you my soul, my love, my heart. This I vow.”

They were silent again, and after a moment Lief tilted his head so that his forehead pressed against Jasmine’s. Tears were running freely down both of their faces, even as they smiled.

Doom realized, then, just how very lucky he was. Death meant nothing to a man who had lost everything, and that had once been the man he had been. But now he had everything― so many friends, and even a family. And a daughter― an infuriating, brilliant daughter.

Jasmine tilted her head up and raised her other hand so that both cupped Lief’s face. She laughed through her tears and kissed her husband hard. Deafening cheers erupted from the audience as they applauded their king and queen, and Doom heard his own voice raise with them. The dragons roared triumphantly from above.

Jasmine had struggled too hard for so long, but washed in sunlight on the hill, she looked so gloriously joyful that it made his heart ache. He could almost imagine Anna beside him. Perhaps her face would be ghosted with the promise of laughter lines, perhaps she would have the occasional grey hair that he had begun to find on his own head.

“Oh, Jarred,” she would smile, threading her arm around his waist. “Look at our happy, darling girl.”

“Yes,” the man he had once been would tell her, kissing her hair. “She deserves this, and more.”

But Anna could not say those things, and neither could he. Instead, he smiled, and crossed the hill toward his daughter.

He did not have the kind of love or life he had imagined when he was young. None of them did. But they had all found their own kinds of love in the end, and that was enough for them to begin to heal.

[leonardvindel]

[ChloDine] I’ve Got You

So there 3 lovely people that I owe this drabble to are: @csquirrel27 @ bri-notthecheese    @pfeiffersvu 

You have my gratitude for encouraging me and it was enough to get to me edit out this drabble and post it. The characters are OOC (out of character) as usual, however do enjoy :) Please excuse all spelling and grammar errors except for the tsotsitaal and Afrikaans.

P.S: There's a clue to future ChloDine artwork I’d like to do in the piece below ;) Fingers crossed that I'll be able to make it happen :3

I’ve Got You

It was harder to get back to Nadine than Chloe originally thought. The underground fort was mostly dark and the passages kept leading back to the exact same door she had locked picked earlier.  A maze built to confuse and trap any perpetrators who entered. Sam said he had a bad feeling about it and Nadine felt that there too many risks involved but Chloe felt it was the only option they had in order to get closer to the treasure they were after. Nadine followed regardless, in case Chloe ended up kicking the hornets’ nest like she usually did and of course she wouldn’t let the love of her life go into the unknown alone.

Chloe shone the flashlight onto her wrist watch. “Damn it!” was all she could whisper. Nadine offered to keep two armed men busy while she retrieved the artefact they needed but it had been over 40min ago now and the radios were jammed so she didn’t know where Nadine was or whether she was okay or not. An uneasy feeling in her gut started to simmer regarding the safety of her ex-paramilitary girlfriend. Chloe took in a deep breath and ran through the passages again, she passed a few men that she had dealt with earlier and they still were in an unconscious state, good.

She turned an unfamiliar corner and caught sight of a pulsing crimson light, towards the end of a dimly lit room. That pulse could only come from one object, the Queen’s Ruby, which she gifted to Nadine days after their first adventure together and Nadine almost never took it off. She made a mad dash towards it hoping it was still attached to Nadine. When Chloe got close enough, she could make out Nadine’s limp form on the ground. She almost face planted the floor, slipping on a fluid beneath her feet but she got to Nadine. She shone the yellow light of her flashlight over her seemingly unconscious girlfriend. The more the light ran down Nadine’s body the more damage Chloe saw and the fluid she had slipped on was Nadine’s body too, slowly pooling underneath and spreading around her.

“Nadine?” Chloe whispered touching her girlfriend. Nadine’s skin felt unusually cool to the touch. Her eyebrows knitted together in concern and she gently turned Nadine over only to be almost blinded by a few bright flood lights in the room. Chloe gave it a few seconds for her eyes to adjust and when she did a gasp of horror escaped her lips, "Dear God." How could 40 minutes of leaving her girlfriend alone with a two armored men, end up like this? The right side of Nadine’s forehead had a nasty bleeding gash, her right eye was red and swelling by the second, blood trickled from her nose and mouth and the right side of her abdomen displayed a bullet entry wound that was bleeding. Chloe placed two fingers on the pulse on Nadine’s neck; she let out a sigh of relief at the feel of Nadine’s pulse. It was rapid though and her breaths were shallow. By reflex, Chloe wiped the blood from underneath Nadine’s nose before she pressed her hands pressed hard on the abdominal wound in an effort to prevent the blood from leaking out as much as it was. She shook Nadine and called out her name a few times hoping she’d come out of unconsciousness and attempt to keep her awake for as long as she could.

Just then, Chloe heard the shout of a woman giving orders for the men to start shooting. Chloe took a glance over the metal crate Nadine had taken cover from and for a moment saw the bodies of four men and two women lying either dead or unconscious on the ground. It must have been one hell of a fight for Nadine to be the only left marginally breathing. Damn it! She had been outnumbered. Shots were fired at Chloe as she brought Nadine to her lap and then rested her head in her arm while she fired back, calling out to Nadine as loud as she could over the sounds of multiple bullets being hammered out of gun barrels.

It seemed too long when Nadine finally responded, parted her eyes and found herself in Chloe’s embrace as she shot back at those firing at them “It-” her breathing was so irregular and the pain in her stomach was cutting her words short, “It’s a trap Chloe” she took in a few breaths of air “They left me here to lure you in.”

An exclamation of triumph escaped Chloe’s lips as she shot the man who attempted to throw a grenade at them, watching it take out two other men and another woman who were within close proximity of it. She turned now to face Nadine “Rise and shine love. You did good here.” She kissed Nadine on the cheek, a kiss to the mouth would have stolen any precious air she was fighting to take in. “As- askies (sorry), I tried to hold them off” Nadine breathed and grunted at the pain she was feeling. “But before I knew it, there were more than I could handle.” Chloe gave her a weary smile, noting that Nadine’s lovely chestnut skin was turning grey “Hey you did a stellar job here. Gold star for you” Chloe then turned her attention back to the gun fire and skillfully took down the remaining four gunmen and  women. Her right leg felt wet and warm from the blood that had started to seep through her jeans. Where the hell was Sam? Did he not hear all the commotion?

Shuffling that could be heard from the other end of the room made Chloe lift her gun in the direction of the noise. Nadine tugged at her shirt, breathing unsteadily “Chlo-Chloe, I feel cold.”  Chloe shifted nervously at hearing Nadine inform her of the drop in her body temperature, the hope she had clung to was fading, and yet she held on to what little she had left of it. Chloe continued to stare straight ahead at nothing feeling something rather uncomfortable lodge itself in her throat “What’d you mean? I’m the hottest thing in here.”

Chloe always had her sarcastic, witty comebacks ready to fire; another thing Nadine loved about her so much, she smiled at that thought. This was the one time she wished she’d told Chloe everything she felt and thought about her: not just the ‘Ek liefe vir jou (I love you)’ or the times Chloe would pop herself into her warm bath with her clothes on or the times she’d finish all her rusks and apologise with a pout on her face, she knew would get her forgiveness or as much as she hated doing yoga, it was the quality time she got to spend with Chloe that mattered or the times Chloe assured her that she had the utmost trust in her and that would give her the confidence to keep going or how the Queen’s Ruby would pulse at close range of her beloved selfish dickhead. Chloe was her greatest treasure and she wanted her to know that, she wanted her to understand what that meant to her but with what little time she felt had left, she could only barely manage to say “…I think I’m going to-” “Wrong answer…I’ve got you!!” came Chloe’s quick response but Nadine felt Chloe’s frame begin to  tremble, her eyes not meeting hers in return this time.

The gun in the Chloe’s left arm shook along with her body as her conscience began to attack her, blaming her for Nadine’s current state. Nadine and Sam didn’t want to take the risk but she wanted this last piece of the puzzle. If they bagged this treasure, they could take it easy for the next couple of months and Chloe could finally propose to Nadine on their holiday like she had planned. In her eagerness she lost sight of the goal and got tangled in her emotions and put her liefie’s(lover) life in danger. As Nadine spoke, Chloe couldn’t bring her eyes down to face her. Nadine was in this position because of her. She knew Nadine would follow her regardless of what her military intuition was telling her. Tears burned the edges of her eyes, a clump of unknown matter still sat uncomfortably in her throat and her heart beat fast with fear and anger. The whole beautiful scene she had envisioned over and over in her head was disappearing with each shallow breath and pained groan Nadine made. The shuffling from earlier revealed Sam rushing into the room smelling of gun powder and bodies all spread all over the place. The firm tug that Nadine had on her shirt was loosening and the warmth on her jeans from Nadine’s blood kept spreading.

Sam shuffled around next to her “Shit, that’s a lot of blood. We need to try and stop it before we get moving.”Sam made an attempt to grab Nadine so he could place her on the floor but Chloe’s grip became tighter “Chloe” Sam put himself in Chloe’s field of vision so she could see him “We need to try and stop the bleeding or Nadine will bleed out and die.” At Sam’s last words Chloe’s eyes look at him in silent retaliation to his words but he didn’t give her a chance to say anything “Alright fine! Just hold her steady then” He took the gun from Chloe “You can beat yourself up about it later but right now we have to try and save her.” Chloe nodded blinking away tears that threatened to flee.

Sam tugged at Nadine’s belt and even in her semi-conscious state she found the strength to smack Sam’s hand away. He immediately brought up his arms “Sorry Nadine, please don’t hurt me. I’m going to need your belt to try and stop the bleeding from your stomach.” Nadine half-glared and looked up at Chloe who placed a light kiss on her forehead “It’s okay Nadine, we’ve got you.” At Chloe’s reassurance, Nadine nodded. Sam took off his shirt and placed it over her abdomen before wrapping the belt tight around the wound. Nadine grabbed a fist full of Chloe’s shirt at the feel of the pain as Sam tightened the belt around the wound. “Did you get the artifact?” Sam asked while tending to Nadine. “…yeah” was the only answer Chloe offered. “Okay, we need to move” He took Nadine’s arm and swung it over his shoulder before threading his other arm behind her knees and the other around her back to lift her “Holy goddamn shit! And she complained that I was heavy” He looked at a very worried Chloe who stood up next to him “Chloe, hand Nadine my gun so she can shot whoever comes in front of us.” Chloe cocked an eyebrow at him “I know what you’re thinking but Nadine is a tough girl, she’s injured but I’ll bet you anything she can still shoot straight” Chloe did just as instructed, taking the gun from Sam’s holster and handing it to Nadine. She picked up her gun again and offered to watch the rear as they made their escape.

As they began to make their way back to the surface, neither woman made an effort to be on the lookout for any potential danger. Half lidded, swollen, chocolate brown eyes looked back to meet watery dark pewter eyes from over Sam’s shoulder. Those brown eyes spoke many things Chloe could not hear, and the questions she asked herself at that moment was if she’d ever get to hear them, if she’d ever get to hear Nadine respond to all the pet names she called her, if she’d ever feel Nadine’s touch on her skin, if she’d ever hear Nadine’s screams of ecstasy or if she’d ever see those chocolate brown eyes look at her like she was the only significant thing in Nadine’s world.

If she lost Nadine now, it’d be all her fault.

~End~

Next chapter

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Thank you for your support. Baie dankie en goeie nag ;)

[chryseis]

hold the line

Fandom: Deltora Quest Characters: Barda, Jasmine, Doom Summary: After Barda, Jasmine and Doom are taken from the forge, they struggle with the realization that they might not make it out alive. (AO3, FFN)

“No! No! No!”

Jasmine’s cries were the only thing that pierced the darkness. A crusty and stinking blindfold had been tied horribly tight around Barda’s face, but still he turned his head toward the sound of his friend. They had been walking for some time, but a Grey Guard grabbed him roughly by his shoulders to hold him still. His hands were unbound, a mocking gesture: it would have been impossible to escape their captors. Without warning, the blindfold was ripped from his face, and he blinked in the exposed light. They had been brought to the palace’s dungeon, and Jasmine’s captor was trying to shove her into a cell. She pushed her arms against the doorframe, desperate to avoid being trapped in the cage-like room. After a brief struggle, she was overpowered and forced inside. She fell to the ground in a heap, and dragged herself to a corner as Barda was pushed in behind her. Doom, half-conscious, was tossed limply in last. The Grey Guards swarmed them, clasping their ankles with heavy chains that were hooked into the floor.

“We will be back, scum!” One of the Guards called as they departed. The door was slammed shut, and they were alone.

“Are you alright?” Barda stumbled over to Jasmine, Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and she hugged her knees to her chest.

“I am fine,” she lied blatantly, gingerly touching the welt on her cheek. A Grey Guard had struck her for biting him at the forge. “And you?”

“Never better,“ he said dully, leaning against the hard, cold stone. His knee throbbed from a kick from a Guard’s heavy boot.

The torches in the hall cast the faintest illumination through a tiny slit in the door. Ghastly shadows flickered across the little room. Filli had hidden under Jasmine’s coat during the fray, but he poked his nose out. She opened her eyes and stroked him softly; trying to sooth him through her own anxiety.

"I will never let anything happen to you, dear heart. I promise.”

Both Barda and Jasmine jumped at the sound of Doom’s voice. He had spoken nonsensically on the march from the forge, alternately telling the guards to unhand his wife and asking where Jasmine was, but he had been silent since they had entered the palace.

“Oh, I cannot bear this,“ Jasmine moaned through gritted teeth. “He is driving me mad.”

Barda looked over at Doom, who was lying on his side with his eyes closed. The blood that had run down the side of his head was beginning to dry. He looked like a different man than the hardened one that they knew. Jasmine covered her face with her hands and Barda pretended not to notice as she cried. He pulled at his chains half-heartedly. After a moment, Jasmine rubbed at her eyes and breathed deeply, grounding herself.

“Are you not happy, now that you have reunited with your father?” Barda questioned, gently.

“Should I be?“ Jasmine croaked. “What does that mean anymore? He has hated me since we met at Tom’s shop. And I… I do not think I like him much more.”

Barda recalled Doom’s blood glistening on Jasmine’s dagger, the fury on their faces in the Arena, and all of their icy interactions since. ”Perhaps you are not on the best of terms,” Barda admitted, awkwardly, turning away from the wall. “But, Jasmine, he clearly loved you when he was Endon-“

“Do not call him that!” Jasmine interrupted ferociously. Filli jumped out of her shirt and scrambled up the sloping wall.

“Why not?”

“Because— whatever you and Lief seem to believe— Doom is no king, and I am certainly no princess.“

"Jasmine,” Barda said impatiently “You have Endon’s rhyme on paper. From what Doom has said, your mother was Sharn. The Belt-”

“The Belt did not shine for me,” she hissed.

“Perhaps if you were just to believe in—”

“Fine. What does it mean, then?” she challenged, rising to her feet with a squeak of protest from Filli. “Either I am not the heir, and we have truly failed. Or I am, and the Belt will not claim me. Which do you think is worse? Because I do not know.”

Barda stared at her for a long moment. “I suppose it does not matter any longer. All that we can do now is hope that Lief will be able to keep himself alive.“

“Yes, he must,” Jasmine said softly. She walked toward the door; the length of her chain allowed her to press her eyes against the slit.

“Perhaps,” Barda continued, “he will even be able to find Jarred and Anna—”

“Jarred and Anna,” Doom repeated, his eyelids fluttering. Barda and Jasmine turned to him, but he did not elaborate.

“If he does,” Barda knew his hope was foolish, yet he clung to it. “I pray they will be able to find a way out of the city.”

“I pray he does not do anything stupid,“ Jasmine pressed her face back against the door. "Barda, I see something.”

"What? What is it?”

“Far down the hall. Two Grey Guards. And I think they have someone with them. Yes… a woman. I think she is handcuffed.“

"What are they doing?” Barda asked hurriedly. He stumbled to his feet, ignoring a stab of pain from his knee.

“Opening another cell… they are forcing a man out.” Jasmine winced. “He is slower, he is limping, so they hit him. They have turned the corner, I cannot see them anymore—“

Barda’s heart pounded in his chest as his last hopes fled. ”That must be Jarred and Anna! They are taking them away. Damn it.”

He punched the wall, and white-hot pain spread up his arm as the skin of his knuckles split against the stone. Devastated, Barda looked at Jasmine, who had moved away from the door. She was staring intently at the opposite wall, deep in thought while Filli chattered something in her ear. She dropped to the floor and began to tear at the rotting straw that carpeted the floor. When she had reached the floor underneath, she felt along the stones, searching for something.

“What are you doing?” He asked her dully.

“It is not yet time to lose hope,” she told him cryptically, without taking her eyes off of her work.

“What does that mean?”

She paid him no heed, scrubbing her palms across the filthy floor. Finally, she gasped.

“I think your chain will let you reach. Lift this out, Barda,“ she instructed, pointing at a protruding stone under her hands. "I shall try to awaken my father.”

As she hurried towards Doom, Barda grabbed her by the wrist. Her chain clattered as she was halted, and his blood dripped across her wrist. ”Tell me what you are planning,” he growled. “You have just told me that my friends are being led off to die. If there ever was a time to lose hope, it surely is now.”

“Filli tells me that there is no other cell on the other side of ours,” Jasmine said, her eyes were red-rimmed but still shone. “Luckily for us, he says the stones have begun to come loose from their bindings with age.“

Barda gave her a sad smile, and gently dropped her wrist. "The dungeons are below ground. Even if we could get the stones away, we would still be trapped by the earth.”

“We are not fully underground,“ Jasmine told him eagerly. ”There must have been a high window here once, it must have been filled in. A small space is dug out on the other side. And I have found a loose stone in the floor.”

Barda stared at her in amazement and could not help but grin. He knelt and lifted up the stone with ease. "So, we use this to break the wall?”

“Exactly.”

“Stand back,” Barda lifted the heavy stone above his head and heaved it at the wall. It hit the target with a loud crack, and fell to the ground with a cloud of dust and an even louder smash. Jasmine scurried to the slit in the door, and let out a small cry of triumph when she confirmed that no one had heard. She went over to her father and hesitantly tried to shake him awake. Barda lifted the stone and repeated his task.

“Jasmine?” Doom said drowsily, as he started to get up.

“Careful, Father,” Barda heard her sooth, remarkably gently. “We may have a way out.”

The second hit had created a small crack. Jasmine had been right: the wall had been paved differently at the top. Barda picked up the stone and threw it again. A small portion of the paved window gave way and tumbled to the floor. Triumphantly, he looked at Jasmine to check if she had seen, but she was not looking at him. She was crouched over Doom, but stared intently at the door. Filll had ducked back under her clothes.

“What is wrong?” He asked.

“Someone is coming,” she whispered hoarsely.

After a moment, Barda heard the pounding of heavy feet moving toward them with great speed. The door burst open violently, and a pod of Grey Guards poured inside. Jasmine clawed at them wildly as she was pulled from her father. One Guard pinned her to the ground, while another handcuffed her hands behind her back. Doom was slowly becoming aware of his surroundings, but was too weak to put up much of a resistance. Barda managed to deliver a swift blow across a Guard’s face, before his hands were bound. They were released from their binds on the floor, but their handcuffs were linked together with a heavy chain, and cloth bags were pulled over their heads.

“This is incredible,” a Guard said, his words muffled by the Barda’s head covering. “We have got the three!”

“Are you sure?” another asked sceptically. “I thought there was supposed to be a boy, the same age as the girl.”

“No,” said a third. Barda’s heart swelled: Lief had not yet been caught. Barda was at the front of the line, and felt heavy hands shove him forward. “We told Fallow we had the three. We will bring him these ones. He might be too busy with the other traitors, and the failure of that stupid Ol, to notice if one of them looks different.”

"Imagine what will happen to these three!” The Guard closest to Barda said gleefully, as they were marched down the hall. “The others are getting double branding and death, and for much lesser crimes. No doubt Fallow has a show planned.”

Barda felt a tug on his chain as he walked. He gritted his teeth, furious that he was being so humiliated on this march to his torture and death. But two more tugs followed, and he softened as he realized that Jasmine, tied directly behind him, was reaching out in the only way she could. He tugged back. At the very least, they would not die alone.

Good luck, Lief, my friend. Barda thought as they were marched upstairs. You will need it.

–

Thanks for reading! This is a rewrite of a piece I wrote sometime between 2010-2012, originally titled ‘Between a Rock and a Hard Place’.

[withickmire]

everything you have never felt

Fandom: Deltora Quest Characters: Marilen, Jarred, Anna, Jasmine, Zeean, Ranesh, Lief, Barda, mentions of others. Pairings: Jarred/Anna, Marilen/Ranesh, Lief/Jasmine (implied) Summary: In another life, Tora accepted Endon’s plea for help, and Jarred and Anna found a sanctuary that would change the course of their lives.

All in Tora had begun to believe that the king and queen were dead. Time had past since the city had accepted Endon’s call for aid, too much time. Whispers and rumours spread; what would it mean, if the king was dead, if the Belt was lost? But one midsummer morning, a report of two figures in the tunnel brought half the city to Tora’s entrance. Marilen was one of the spectators, hoping to see the cause of the excitement.

“Is it them?” Marilen joined Zeean as the older woman hurried through the crowd.

“I hope so,” Zeean murmured.

The crowd parted, and Marilen saw the king and queen for the first time. They were dressed in rough travel clothes, pale and dirty from hard travel. Their eyes were wide with wonder and even fear as they set their eyes upon the shining city. Marilen’s eyes travelled to the king’s waist, but the Belt was not there.

She could feel Zeean’s thoughts, urging the whispering crowd, away, away. Let them be, let them breathe. The command was not directly aimed at her, and so Marilen stepped closer, along with her father and the rest of the city’s leaders, as the city dispersed.

The king had his arm around the queen. Neither of them said anything to the people before them.

“You are safe now,” Zeean told them, spreading her arms so that her scarlet robes fluttered. “Welcome to Tora.”

“Th— thank you,” the queen stammered after a moment.

“We feared for your safety,” Marilen’s father stepped forward. “What delayed your journey?”

“Grey Guards were murdering the women with child on the road, and all those with them,” Endon said, the bitterness in his voice barely hidden by the gentleness of the city. “Looking for us, no doubt. And even others, we saw cut down as they ran.”

Marilen flinched. The thought of such violence and cruelty twisted a knot in her belly.

“We travelled north for a while,” Sharn said softly, “and turned west when we thought enough time had passed.”

“You have survived much,” Zeean said. “There is much more to speak of, but for now you need food and rest. But first, I must ask— what has become of the Belt?”

Sharn grew paler still, and Endon’s gaze hardened. “The gems have been taken and hidden by the Enemy,” he said, as silent whispers buzzed amongst the Toran elites. “But all is not lost. The Belt is with a dear friend.”

That was the last he would say, insisting that the queen needed rest. Zeean showed them to grand chambers, in the same tall tower that Marilen lived in with her father, and the doors were shut.

—

King Endon and Queen Sharn did not leave their rooms for three days. Eventually they crept out, talking a little, and sometimes even smiling. They were given Toran robes to replace their strange, worn clothing, and some of the colour returned to their cheeks.

They were strange, though, for they did not act or look like how Marilen would have imagined royalty might. Endon’s beard was roughly trimmed and his shoulders were astonishingly broad. Sharn’s hands were chapped and red, and she had exclaimed when she had first been given her robes, as if she had never seen anything so fine. Both had a sallowness to their skin; a hollowness in their cheeks, as if they lived on little food and less sleep. They were just a couple years older than she, but their eyes seemed decades older. But Marilen had always heard that those in Del were a rough and almost undignified people, so she supposed their dispositions were only natural.

—

The first weeks passed quickly. Endon told the full story of what had happened in the palace, and what had become of the Belt. Sharn spoke of the friends who had saved them, and aided their escape. They insisted on being called by their true names, rather than their titles.

“I am a king no longer,” Endon said grimly, sitting in Zeean’s parlour, sipping tea with his host and wife, as well as Marilen and her father.

“What will you do next?” Marilen’s father asked, passing the sugar bowl to Sharn.

“There is nothing yet that we can do,” Endon glanced at his wife. “The Belt will never again shine for me. We must wait for our child to be born and grow.”

Sharn set the sugar bowl down heavily on the table and looked away, as if hiding tears.

“And then?” Marilen’s father asked, voicing the question she herself had been desperate to ask.

Endon looked toward the entrance of the city, as if he could see it through the marble wall. “And then everything will change.”

Zeean looked over at Sharn and placed a gentle hand on her knee. “I had wondered if perhaps Tora’s magic would embrace you when you entered the city. Have you shown any sign of ability, or of being able to hear our thoughts in your head?”

Sharn flushed and looked away again, as if unable to meet Zeean’s eyes. “I am sorry, but I have not. Perhaps I have too much Del blood in my veins.”

Zeean nodded. The older woman had always been skilled at keeping her thoughts quieter than most, but Marilen could hear murmurs of something that sounded a little like doubt.

“Do you have any idea of who your family in Tora might be?” Marilen asked curiously, her eyes flickering to Zeean.

Sharn looked up, and smiled apologetically. “I do not think that any of my Toran ancestors had left Del since the time of King Brandon. If I have relatives here, I would not know them.”

Endon leaned over and kissed his wife. “Do not fret, dear heart. You are more than enough, with or without magic.”

Sharn beamed, and the conversation was forgotten over time, although Marilen always remembered the very quick flash of fear on Endon and Sharn’s faces at Zeean’s question.

—

The once-queen gave birth to her daughter as the leaves began to turn from green to gold. Jasmine, for the flowers that reminded her of Del, Sharn said. Jasmine was small but healthy, and Marilen had to only look at Sharn and Endon’s faces to know that the child would be well-loved.

The people of Tora celebrated that Adin’s heir had been born, and that she was safe in their untouchable city.

—

Endon and Sharn stayed in the chambers they had first been given, and Marilen grew close with her new neighbours. They were of her age, and she liked their company. Endon was as blunt as one could be in Tora, but had a kind heart, and Sharn was unfailingly sweet and wickedly clever. Every once a while, when they thought no one was watching, they would look at each other with such love and sadness that Marilen’s heart would ache with something she could not name.

—

It was a warm morning, and Marilen and Sharn strolled together in one of Tora’s prettiest gardens. Sharn carried Jasmine upright in her arms, stroking the baby’s hair with her thumb. They spoke of books they had read, of stories they had been told, of Jasmine’s sweet curls. The conversation slowly turned towards family.

“My mother died when I was born,” Sharn said with a rueful smile, kissing Jasmine’s dark hair, “and my father when I was young. But I was raised by my grandfather, who was a stern, but kind man. I loved him very much.”

She said nothing more, but her eyes were heavy with sadness. Marilen wondered if Sharn’s grandfather had been murdered in the palace, but dared not ask. She had half-hoped her friend might say something that would make sense of Zeean’s odd feeling all those months ago, but she did not know what to say.

“I do not remember my mother, I was very small when she died,” Marilen said instead. “But I love my father very much. And I am lucky, for though I did not know my mother, I can see her in the memories of others.”

Sharn shuddered. “I mean no offence, but I would not like to know the thoughts of so many people, or to have them know mine.”

Marilen laughed. She bent and picked a daisy, which she tucked behind the small shell of Jasmine’s ear. Sharn smiled with warm green eyes. Marilen knew that her friend was happy because she could tell by her face, not by the words in her head. It seemed suddenly like a privacy; a privilege, that Marilen had never been afforded.

“At the very least we are never lonely,” Marilen pointed out, although her words felt hollow. “It is safe here, and I am very happy.”

It was true. She was happy. She was in Tora, sheltered from the evils that reigned in the rest of Deltora. But there was an emptiness in her heart, as if she had lost something that she had never owned.

—

The full moon shone across Marilen’s pillow, but she did not wake. She was far away, dreaming of a man, with dark skin and hazel eyes, and the most intoxicating smile. When she opened her eyes, her face was wet with tears.

—

“Can we go home? I want to see Mamma.”

“Soon, Jasmine, we must wait until we are called for. Your mother will be just fine, I am sure,” Marilen said, as she lead Jasmine through Tora’s busy core. Jasmine tugged on her hand and lead her towards the oath stone.

“What is it for, Mari? No one will tell me,” the oath stone cast a strange green glow on Jasmine’s face, providing a momentary distraction.

“Do not get too close,” Marilen warned. The tale of the stone had frightened Marilen as a child, and seeing Jasmine so close to it unnerved her.

“But what is it for?”

Marilen crouched. Jasmine looked so sweetly solemn, staring up at her with wide green eyes, half-drowning in her long yellow robes. Marilen had known her for seven years, and had learned that the girl was impossible to lie to.

“It means that my people made a promise to your family,” Marilen said with a smile. “We will always protect you, and keep you safe.”

Jasmine’s eyes widened. She turned toward the tower where she knew her parents were, and then looked back at Marilen. “What happens if you do not?”

Marilen hesitated, but Jasmine did not look away. “We would have to leave the city, and never come back.” It was not a lie, just not the whole truth.

Jasmine’s lower lip trembled. “I do not want you to leave, Mari.”

“I will not,” Marilen promised. “I will stay right here.”

“Good,” Jasmine said, satisfied. “Does that mean the stone is magic?”

“Yes,” Marilen took Jasmine’s hand and began to walk again.

“Everything in Tora is magic,” Jasmine sulked. “And everyone, except me and Mamma and Papa. Do you think I will get magic one day?”

Marilen pictured Jasmine: grown, with the Belt of Deltora shining at her waist. The image was broken as fragments of Zeean’s thoughts filled her head, calling out to her. Bring her back now. They are well. She is a girl.

“Perhaps,” she said, as her heart filled with happiness. “Now, shall we get you home? There is someone waiting who I am sure your parents are very eager for you to meet.”

—

Endon and Sharn named their daughter Aster, and had a boy, Crian, a few years later. As all three children grew, Endon taught them how to fight, how to defend themselves, and even how to kill.

“Why is he so intent on this?” Marilen asked Sharn, as the two watched Endon adjust Jasmine’s grip on a sword.

Sharn held baby Crian closer to her chest, as if shielding him from the world. “Because they will never be safe, so long as the Shadowlord reigns.”

Marilen could not understand the necessity. Evil might spread through out the land, but surely Tora was the one place it could not touch.

—

Jasmine grew into the princess she was. Although her family lived simply, her shining dark hair and the proud tilt of her head suggested that she was something more. She was the despair of her tutors, for she excelled at her lessons, but often skipped them all together. The other adolescents of Tora were drawn to her, flocking to her side, like moths to a candle’s flame. She wore only the finest of her Toran robes, and painted her lips before she left the tower every morning. There was something fierce about her, though. Even Tora could not quell her fiery spirit. She begged Endon and Sharn over and over again to let her leave Tora and go to Del to retrieve the Belt and find the gems, but they refused.

“We are safe here, while the rest of the kingdom suffers!” Jasmine would insist.

“You are not ready,” Endon would tell her firmly, not heeding her as she spoke of her skill with her sword and daggers, and of her willingness to go.

“You are too young, my darling,” Sharn would say.

“If not now, when?”

For that, they did not have an answer.

—

The man visited Marilen in her dreams once again. He was sitting in a small room, lit by flickering candles. A book lay in his lap, and his eyes darted across the pages as he read. He looked up when he noticed her. His face broke into a broad grin, and Marilen’s heart caught in her throat.

“I do not know your name,” she whispered.

“The time has not come, my love,” he shut his book, and Marilen woke up.

—

Every so often Zeean would remark upon men who might have caught Marilen’s eye. Marilen could not hide her thoughts of the man who visited her dreams with frequency, but no one had ever commented on them. It was considered rude to speak of another’s thoughts, unless they were to bring them up first. Marilen held her tongue.

“I just do not wish for you to be lonely,” Zeean said gently, as Marilen shook her head at the idea of the man Zeean suggested.

“I am not lonely,” Marilen said, as her thoughts betrayed her lies.

—

Zeean died only months later, and Marilen wept bitterly for the woman, hating Tora in that moment for daring to try and heal her heartbreak with magic.

—

She dreamt of the man often, through out the years. Sometimes he did not see her, and even when he did they would speak only a little before she would be torn from sleep. She would lie in bed, long after waking. No doubt he was only in her head, but she could not help but picture a man, somewhere far away, living his life and never knowing of her existence. Or maybe he dreamt of her too.

“Come find me,” she would whisper to the rising sun.

—

Endon made a curious strangled noise in the back of his throat when they rounded the corner and first saw the boy and the big man.

“My name is Lief,” the boy said eagerly. His eyes were wide as he drank in the sights of the marble city. Zeean stood beside the visitors, her eyes carefully fixed on Endon. “This is my companion, Barda.”

Jasmine stepped forward with a haughty toss of her hair. “I am Princess Jasmine. This is my friend, Marilen, and my father, Endon.”

Lief’s eyes grew even wider, and he stretched his hand out toward Jasmine as if hoping she would take it. “It is you,” he breathed. “We have found you.”

Jasmine’s brow was furrowed with hesitation— there were a great many reasons why many in Deltora might seek her out. But Lief looked at Jasmine with eyes like stars.  

Endon placed a hand on Jasmine’s shoulder, but he had eyes only for the boy. “You are the son of… Jarred and Anna, are you not?” Endon said the names as if they were in a language he did not understand.

“I am,” Lief of Del said. “And I know who you are.”

Marilen placed her hand on the cool marble walls that had hidden Jasmine for nearly sixteen years, and knew that all of their lives were about to change.  

—

Del was in chaos. Marilen felt dizzy as she saw Resistance fighters cut down Grey Guards, and watched as the people of Del dragged their wounded to safety. The Resistance leader, a huge woman with a shaved and painted skull, shouted orders as her people ran by with their weapons drawn. The battle was over, but there was still much to do.

Jasmine stumbled toward her. She was too thin, her hair was wild and tangled, her face was dirty, sunburned, and she had a rapidly swelling bruise on her cheek. She no longer looked at all like a princess— and, of course, she never had been one. But she was alive in a way Marilen had never seen her.

The people Marilen had called Endon and Sharn for nearly seventeen years were in fact named Jarred and Anna. Not the king and queen, but a blacksmith and a healer. They were gathered now by the true Sharn, as she cradled her husband’s lifeless body in her arms. Lief, who had once entered Tora with such enthusiasm— the king, the king, the king— held tight to his mother’s hand with Barda at his side.

Jasmine took Marilen’s hand, as she had done when she was young, and they left their loved ones to their private grief.

—

“I am leaving again, Father,” Marilen interrupted firmly.

“It is not safe for you outside of these walls,” he insisted, running his hands through his white hair. If had they not been in Tora, if he would be angry, if he would be shouting.

As terrifying as her trip to Del had been, she had been given an independence and freedom that she had never had in her thirty-five years.

“The king needs me,” Marilen said firmly. “He and Jarred are waiting for me below. I want to go with them, Father. I want to see the world outside of Tora. There is so much more than this.”

“You do not know the evil of the world, Marilen,” his voice was heavy, and his eyes were tired.

“I have seen it, Father,” she told him gently, “and I will no longer stand idly by.”

—

Tora would always be her home, but the world outside of the marble city was vast and frightening and beautiful. Sometimes she laughed so hard she could hardly breathe. Sometimes she cried until her stomach ached. Sometimes she felt anger boil her blood and sharpen her tongue. Some of her feelings were beautiful, and others filled her with pain. But they were all real, unfiltered, and true. The best part was, no one knew her thoughts unless she wished to share them, and it felt like being free.

—

It was very late at night, and a small, quiet group gathered in the large palace kitchen. They made as little sound as they could, trying their very best to keep their meeting secret. The Belt felt heavy and cold at Marilen’s waist.

“It worries me that you insist on going alone,” Sharn whispered to Lief. Anna leaned over and put her hand on the other woman’s shoulder.

“I will not be alone, Mother,” Lief said. He stood with Jasmine and Barda on each side. Marilen could not tell if it was an illusion cast by the darkness, but the king’s fingertips seemed to brush very purposely against Jasmine’s.

“You are sure that this plan will get you safely to the Shadowlands?” Anna asked anxiously, leaning against Jarred.

“I cannot speak for safety,” Barda said dryly. “But I managed to herd these two across Deltora, surely I can push them just a bit farther.

Jasmine stepped forward and kissed Anna’s cheek, embraced her younger siblings, and then Jarred.

“Be careful,” Jarred told her sternly.

Jasmine grinned. “It is too late to start now.”

He laughed softly and kissed her hair. She had left it loose recent days, not bothering to sleek it down with her brush.

“Your hair suits you,” Marilen told her with a smile.

Jasmine embraced her tightly. “Oh, I will miss you, Mari.”

“Be brave,” Marilen advised, “and come home safe.”

The three companions finished their goodbyes, shouldered their packs and left the kitchen. Anna took Sharn’s hand and the seven people people left behind watched their loved ones go, knowing that all they could do was wait.

—

Marilen’s heeled boots echoed through the halls of the Del palace. She had heard of the library’s beauty, but had not yet had a chance to see it for herself. Life had settled again, even with Lief, Jasmine and Barda away, and she finally had a moment to herself.

She reached for the grand library door, but someone opened it from the inside at the same time. Her eyes widened as a man stepped out. He was lean and tall, with dark skin and lovely hazel eyes. He smiled at her, a smile she knew, and she felt herself smiling back. She had hoped he would come for her, but she had found him instead.

“I have met you in my dreams” she breathed, not caring how foolish she sounded.

His brow furrowed in confusion, but his smile stayed. “They must have been very good dreams, indeed.”

“Perhaps,” Marilen shook her head and laughed. Everything had changed, but change was so gloriously beautiful. “But I much prefer real life.”