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magicrowiswritingstuff · 4 years

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“Embrace” - Din Djarin x female!reader

Tigaanur Series: Part 1 | Part 2 (you’re here!) | Part 3 | MASTERLIST

Summary: The first time you slept next to the Mandalorian definitely wasn’t that comfortable. The second time would have been a lot better … if you could have fallen asleep in his embrace.

Warning: the fluff continues, a bit of violence/near death experience? (honestly ... is that news in that series?), more touching and bed sharing, suggestive themes, Hmmm slow-burn romance! My favorite ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Category: fluff

Words: about 8.000

Notes: The sequel to “Touch” is here! You don’t have to read the first part necessarily but I would suggest it because some things are references you might understand better if you read both. I also decided to name this series “Tigaanur“ which is Mando’a for ... touch, lol. I hope y’all like the second part just as much! I had a lot of fun writing this, hehe. Note 2: Again, set during season 1 but the events are drawn out over a longer period of time (but they aren’t really mentioned) Note 3: If you like my writing ... I’m taking Requests! Or if you just want to be notified when I upload something: I’ve started a taglist, too!

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“Embrace” – Din Djarin x fem!reader

With a huff you turned in your makeshift bed and stared at the ceiling of the Razor Crest, your hands clasped and neatly placed on your stomach. Keeping track of the time was difficult when you were in hyperspace for more than a day, at least for you, but when spending these days unable to fall asleep, the minutes seemed to last an eternity longer. Insomnia plagued you in your hours of otherwise peaceful slumber ever since a few weeks. All those events, all those concerns to keep the Child safe and the realization that there was a bounty on your head now, kept you awake, alert even when you knew it was safe to close your eyes. Your days were a constant pattern you couldn't escape from. Fighting, fleeing, repeat. You were aware of what you had signed up for when you joined Mando and the little one on the Razor Crest and you didn't regret a thing. But what you hadn't been aware of at the beginning was just how much your mind would struggle to process everything. You adapted to having to be observant and careful all the time, you just couldn't switch it off anymore. Your body shook with energy, prepared to act if necessary at any time even when you were more than exhausted. In the last couple of weeks you only seemed to find any sleep when your body was too exhausted to function anymore, leaving you passed out in the copilot seat more often than not. When Mando would notice you almost falling sleep beside him, he always urged you to go down in your bed. You knew he only wanted you to sleep comfortably, the copilot seat wasn't the best alternative for your body and especially for your back. You didn't dare to tell him that the moment you would settle down in your bed, you would be wide awake for the rest of the flight. Sometimes sleep was within reach, so close but your mind would startle you awake before you could get a hold of it. Leaving you panicked in your bed with your heart beating relentlessly against your ribs, keeping you awake for the rest of the night. Other times your body was simply too restless for you to even feel tired, let alone fall asleep. The constant stress your body and mind were under, slowly but surely strained your nerves.

You groaned, frustrated at yourself, and pressed the palms of your hands against your eyes. You couldn't deal with this anymore. You kicked back your blanket and stood up from your makeshift bed. You stretched your arms over your head until your shoulders made a satisfied plopping sound, then you grabbed your blanket, draped it over your shoulders and head like a hood before you made your way to the ladder leading up. You tiptoed silently past the Mandalorian's cot in which the kid was sleeping soundly, not wanting to wake the little on up, and then climbed up to the cockpit.

Mando shifted in his seat the moment you set a foot onto solid ground again, tilting his head in confusion as he looked at you. You walked up to him with your head lowered and sat down into the copilot seat to his right. With your feet plopped onto the seat, you wrapped the blanket around you and leaned your head back, glancing at the streaks of blue and silver above your through the window. "Nightmare?" he asked, his voice a soft whisper his modulator struggled to pick up. His concern for you made your heart flutter and warmth spred in your stomach. "No" you shook your head and wrapped the blanket tighter around your body. "Just can't fall asleep right now." It wasn’t a lie, just not the complete truth either. You let out a sigh, your eyes still fixated onto the fascinating beauty that was hyperspace even though you have seen it a million times already. But the nebula of blue and silver, of the stars swirling around you, never ceased to amaze you. The silence was light but filled with unspoken words and questions. You didn't dare to ask any of them out loud. You didn't want to disturb the comfortable silence and you weren't sure if you wanted to hear his answers anyway. You had asked him the question that was burning on the tip of your tongue before. His answer didn't really clarify much for you, you were still unsure at times. Now you only knew that he didn't mind the touches, didn't mind you around him. You were curious but also afraid to ask again. You liked how the bond you two shared was right now, you didn't want it to change to something awkward.

Your eyes fluttered close unwillingly, the exhausting taking a hold of your stiff body. You still couldn't relax but your body needed to shut down, needed to recharge. You heard the Mandalorian shuffle with something but before you could open your eyes to look, he had already grabbed your hand from underneath the blanket and intertwined his un-gloved fingers with yours. The warmth of his touch immediately washed over your whole body. Your lips formed into a soft smile as you squeezed his hand in thanks, slowly melting into his touch and the seat, gradually you felt your body relax. Mando began to draw small circles on the back of your hand, soothing your racing thoughts to a halt. No words were spoken, but you didn't feel like they were necessary right now. You were just grateful for his touch as your mind slipped into a peaceful slumber. The last clear thought you could form stuck with you even when you woke up again a few hours later. You never seemed to be able to relax in your bed just as good as if you were in the cockpit with Mando by your side.

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"Why does this always happen?" you huffed under your breath as you ran beside the Mandalorian, trying to get back to the Razor Crest before one of the men hunting you could land a shot.

You had just wanted to get some more supplies again, with three people on the ship rations didn't last long, especially with the always hungry kid that was hiding in the bag slung over your shoulder right now. You had wanted to go alone but after what happened the last time, when you had gotten badly hurt, Mando didn't allow that. Especially now that there was also a bounty on your head to track him and the kid down. You were in far more danger than he anticipated, than he wanted. But you also were in a desperate need to leave the ship even if it was only for an hour. You couldn’t stand being trapped there any longer, so you argued with him, refused to stay behind. After a while, and very reluctantly, Mando agreed to you going with him which meant that the kid had to join, too, because you didn't want to leave him alone on the ship. You had hoped for it to run smoothly, to just for once be able to enjoy a trip to a market and not be confronted with the harsh reality again. But you should have known better, you should have known that some bounty hunters would spot you three, that it was just inevitable.

So, that was why you were running through the narrow streets of the city you were in right now. Fighting them all off immediately hadn't been an option this time with all the civilians around you blocking your path and sight, so you three had to resort to shooting your way free and immediately fleeing after that. The plan had been to find a spot where you would have some advantage to attack but the city seemed to only consist of small, narrow streets in which you couldn't do anything except try to run, try to not get shot in the back.

Mando was running beside you but after a while you had trouble keeping pace with him. Your legs burned, the exhaustion in every fiber of your body from weeks of almost no sleep slowed you down more and more. Gasping for air you tried to not fall too far behind. The Mandalorian took a sharp turn to the left, vanishing into another small side street. You stumbled, struggling to slow down enough to take the turn without needing to stop completely. You could only vaguely hear the shouting of the bounty hunters behind you over the blood rushing through your ears and your heart hammering against your ribs. But what you could hear, or rather feel, was the blaster shoots zooming past you, barely missing. They were coming closer, fast. The kid cooed in your bag, confused by what was going on when you grabbed the bag and pressed it with him in it protectively against your chest. At least he wouldn't get hit there. You managed to round the corner and fixated your eyes back on Mando's form. With a groan you sped up, trying to catch up to him. But then you felt the laser of a blaster, its heat sizzled past your face, missing your skin only barely. Your heart leaped into your throat and you jumped to the side, your back collided with the wall of a building as you came to a sudden halt. When you collected your thoughts enough to turn your head, you saw the bounty hunters had already followed you into the small street and you knew there was no use in escaping anymore. If you ran, they would just shoot you in the back. You looked down at the Child who had stuck out his head from the bag, staring at you with his big, round eyes, and you knew what you had to do. You had no other option. You had to fight. You grabbed your blaster from the holster on your hip -Mando made you take one with you and had taught you the basics, now that you were on the radar of bounty hunters too- and slung the bag around so the Child would be hidden behind your back, safe from any blaster shots coming your way. You had no time to aim so you just shot into the general direction of the bounty hunters, hoping for the best, as you pushed yourself from the wall, avoiding a few shots only barely. Miraculously you managed to hit a few of them, or maybe it was Mando who hit them. He had to be somewhere behind you, he probably noticed your absence and had turned around to help, but your mind was too clouded to notice his footsteps hurrying closer or his blaster shots coming from behind you, more unfocused and aimless than usually. You ducked your head down to avoid a few more otherwise fatal shots and directed your blaster to the bounty hunter closest to you, only for it to jam. You pulled the trigger three times before you realized that nothing was happening. Your eyes widen in horror and you did the only thing you could think of right now: Protect the Child at all cost. You let your blaster fall to the ground as you spun around, so your back was facing the bounty hunters. You grabbed the bag during your turnaround and pressed it against your chest again, putting one hand on the little one’s head in an attempt to soothe him while your body shook in fear. You prepared yourself for the hit, prepared yourself for the heat sinking into your skin, for the pain, when you suddenly felt someone grab you and spin you around with them. You were too disoriented to react, to fight, you could only hear the lasers leaving the bounty hunter’s blaster, but none of them hit you. Instead, they hit something metallic, making them bounce off. You lifted your head slightly and your breath got stuck in your throat as you realized what was happening. Mando had wrapped his arms around you and spun you so his body was shielding you and the kid from the lasers, his back facing the bounty hunters, instead of yours. You couldn't do anything, except for staring at his visor in pure shock while he silently stared back, not even tilting his helmet in question. Him moving his hands behind your back stayed mostly unnoticed by you. Only when the whistling birds already struck down the bounty hunters that were left did you realized what he had done.

The echo of the blasters suddenly stopped, leaving the small side street in complete silence with the only exception being your still widely beating heart hammering against your ribs. The first one to move was neither Mando nor you but the Child, who was tugged in between the two of you. Wiggling and stretching his arms out he cooed at the Mandalorian whose helmet lowered to look at him. Slowly he loosened his grip on you, though his arms still stayed wrapped around you. If you didn't know it any better you would have said he was afraid you would disappear if he let go. But you didn't mind his hold on you, your legs were shaking uncontrollably and you would probably have slumped down on the ground without him. "Are you hurt?" he asked and glanced back at you, his voice frantic. You shook your head and let out a breathy sigh. "No-o" you said and gasped for air, your heart pumping hard against your chest in relief, before you directed your gaze to the little one. "We're okay. B-but I need a moment." You let your forehead fall against Mando’s armored chest and just focused on your breathing. The Mandalorian didn't move or interject, instead he tightened his arms around you again, giving you not only stability but comfort, too. You closed your eyes and tried to stop the shaking of your body. The adrenaline had vanished and only left the fear behind that was still closing its claws around you. You gulped, realizing that you almost ... that you could have died. A cold shiver ran down your spine as your breath hitched. This could have been the end of your journey. You could have... "We need to go" Mando spoke up, his voice caring an apologetic tone. You nodded against his chest, understanding that you had to leave the planet before more bounty hunters could arrive. You bit your lip and straightened up, taking a step back the Mandalorian let his arms slip from you, bringing them back to his sides. "Let's go" you agreed, trying to cover the waver of your voice with a small smile.

You held the Child pressed against your chest the whole remaining way back to the Razor Crest. His soft squeaks kept your mind at ease and focusing on his big, curious eyes made you forget about what almost happened. At least for the time being. Luckily, you didn't walk into any more bounty hunters. Though you could only take a deep breath of relief when the hangar closed tightly behind you. You only half-heartedly noticed Mando gently pushing you down onto the edge of his cot by the shoulders. You stared at the ground before you, still hugging the little one against your chest, and didn't even register the Razor Crest taking off. The short startle of the jump into hyperspace was also left unnoticed. Only when the Child was softly taken out of your arms did you look up at the Mandalorian, who had come back down. You didn't protest as he put the little one into his hammock where he promptly fell asleep.

"You should get some rest" the Mandalorian suggested, one of his hands resting on your shoulder, the leather of his glove brushing against the skin of your neck. The sensation left small tingles behind which would have made you sigh if you weren’t so tense. And even though you would have loved to, you knew sleep wasn't an option for you right now. "I can't-" you choked out and lowered your eyes to stare at your still shaking hands. You clenched them to fists and bit your lip. And even though the Mandalorian didn't speak up, did you know what he was asking when his hand wandered from your shoulder to your neck and cheek. You leaned into his touch, closed your eyes and wished to just fall asleep in his comforting presence, to just be able to forget this day. "I haven't been able to sleep properly ever since I joined you" you confessed, your voice faint. "But it has gotten worse over the last few weeks." "What can I do to help you?" the Mandalorian asked sincerely concerned. You couldn't help the soft chuckle escaping from your mouth. "Can you stay?" you hummed even though you knew he couldn't. This wasn't necessarily the worst sleeping position you were in since the last couple of weeks, but also not one of the best. However, if you moved to your bed or to the cockpit now, you would be wide awake once more. But Mando probably didn’t want to and couldn’t stay in that position anyway. You sighed at the warmth of his touch, relishing the moment for a few seconds more before you would have to stand up. But then Mando pulled away, making you open your eyes in an instant. You were about to stand up from his cot when he suddenly kneeled down before you. Freezing in place you stared at his visor that stayed trained on your face. Every word you could have said got stuck in your throat when he grabbed your legs and slipped your shoes off. You couldn't even ask him what he was doing, though your face probably gave that thought away. He placed your shoes neatly beside the entrance to his cot before slipping his off, too, which only left you even more confused. You blinked at him in lack of understanding, searching for words.

"What are you doing?" you managed to ask when he had stood up and took a step closer. He was now directly in front of you, his body so close you could feel the warmth that radiated from him and it springing over to you. He was so close that you had to put your head back to keep your eyes focused on his helmet. "Staying with you" he only answered. Before you could ask further questions, he suddenly picked you up with one arm underneath your legs and the other bracing your back. Your eyes grew wide as you just clung onto him, unable to protest. Somehow Mando managed to get you two settled into his cot with him lying on his back, almost taking in all the space, and you on your side, trying to squeeze into the space that was left. Nevertheless, you had to press against him with your head lying on his armored shoulder. You didn't dare to breathe, didn't dare to move at all and just watched Mando for a while. He had his hands clasped on top of his stomach, the visor of his helmet pointed to the ceiling, harshly reflecting the still switched-on lights of the ship. He didn’t move and you began to wonder if he had already fallen asleep. But then you thought about how he was even supposed to fall asleep that way in his bed, completely dressed in his armor. Wasn’t he uncomfortable? You furrowed your brows, your eyes still trained on his helmet. Or did he always sleep that way? Fully dressed in his armor? Unmovingly on his back like a rock?

"Sleep."

You couldn't help the squeak spilling over your lips as you flinched in embarrassment, making the Mandalorian chuckle lowly. He had noticed you staring, obviously. You cursed at yourself and ducked your head in, trying to sink into yourself and appear smaller while your cheeks heated up. Embarrassed you stared at your hands, refusing to meet the Mandalorian’s gaze again. His shoulders shook lightly from his silent laughter. Then he grabbed the blanket, draping it over the two of you before he pushed a button on the side of the wall which switched off the lights and closed the door to the cot. You were grateful for the darkness as your face definitely gave away your flustered state. For a few moments you focused on Mando's regular breathing through the modulator, feeling his body move next to you to the almost completely silent rhythm. You mimicked his relaxed breathing, trying to clear your thoughts and focusing on only that and not the close proximity you had to each other. And before you knew it your body relaxed and you fell asleep, tightly pressed against him.

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You were relieved and grateful to Mando for finally having found some sleep through his help, but you would be lying if you said it was a comfortable slumber.

You had awoken alone in Mando's cot. Well, not completely alone. The kid was still sleeping in his hammock above you and the pain in your back was now also a new companion. Spending one night cramped into one tiny space with a man completely dressed in cold, hard armor probably wasn't the best idea. Nevertheless, you had slept and for the first time in weeks you felt somewhat well rested, back pain brushed aside.

You groaned and set up, rubbing your eyes and wondered how you didn't notice Mando leaving. In the tight space that was his bed you surely would have felt him move, right? Well, apparently you had been far too out of it for that. You were somewhat impressed at yourself for having fallen so deeply asleep but your body probably had just passed out, far too exhausted to keep being alert even in your sleep. You yawned, searched for the button to open the cot and then crawled to its edge to put your shoes back on, noticing that Mando's were gone. You stood up and glanced at the Child but when you noticed that he was still soundly asleep, you silently walked to the ladder and climbed up. Once you were at the top you stopped and stared at the back of Mando's helmet, suddenly feeling very unsure of yourself. Sleeping next too him was the most intimate gesture he had shared with you. And even though that wasn’t really something big normally, you had shared a bed with friends before, this felt different. Somehow it felt intrusive and very exciting at the same time. You felt special but flustered none the less. Then you huffed and shook your head, clearing it from those thoughts. 'We only shared a bed' you told yourself. There was nothing special about that, right? Well, maybe not with any other person. But with Mando every small step felt like a miracle, like a risk to take even though being close to him was nothing new to you anymore. You held hands, you saw and felt his skin underneath the leather gloves, you even sat on his lap a few times while in hyperspace. But nothing ever felt so intimate than lying next to him in his small cot, even if you had a sore back now because of that. Alone the memory of it made your heart speed up again. Never had so simple gestures felt so exciting to you. And then the desire hit you that you wanted more, wanted to be closer to the man behind the beskar. And that thought suddenly scared you. You shook your head once more and forced yourself to sit down into one of the copilot seats. You stared out of the window, too afraid to meet the Mandalorian's gaze should he tilt his head to you, too afraid he would somehow know what you were thinking. You felt torn. Torn between wanting to embrace whatever this was and scared to know what he wanted, what he thought. Scared to know what exactly this was. It wasn’t a simple partnership anymore, not just a crew you happened to join. This was something that set your heart aflame whenever you were near him. But you didn’t want to ask. You didn’t want to know his answer. As long as he didn’t tell you what this was to him you could continue to pretend, to relish these moments that meant so much to you.

You folded your hands and placed them in your lap to stop yourself from fiddling with your thumbs. The silence was uncommonly heavy, pressing down on your shoulders and pinning you to the seat. "Thank you" you whispered after many minutes of complete silence and glanced at the Mandalorian through the corners of your eyes. He only hummed and nodded, not turning to meet your eyes.

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The rest of your day was filled with the giggles and squeals of the Child as you played with him to distract yourself form your thoughts. You couldn't stand being in the cockpit alone with Mando today, so you had passed the time and busied yourself with caring for the kid. That was until he had fallen asleep in your arms at the end of the day, or at least you guessed another day had passed. Keeping track of it in hyperspace was still rather hard for you. You had put the little one to bed and were now standing in front of him, in front of Mando’s cot, unsure what to do. Glancing at your own bed you felt your stomach tighten. You already knew you would only turn from side to side without finding any rest in there. The only option to find any sort of sleep would be next to Mando. You sighed and climbed back up to sit down into one of the copilot seats only to almost run into the Mandalorian as the door to the cockpit slid open suddenly before you. You froze, your face only inches away from his chest. You took a deep breath before you slowly lifted your head until you could look into his visor. When he didn’t move to the side or reacted at all, you furrowed your brows at him in question. "Aren't you tired?" he asked and gently took your hand in his. It was the first time that he had talked to you today. The rest of the day had always been filled with awkward silence, something you had always feared should you ask the questions that were circling in your head, something you had wanted to prevent by staying silent, but now it was too late. He tilted his head at you when you didn't react. For a few moments you were overwhelmed and struggled for words. "Ehm, well, yeah but-" you weren't able to finish your sentence, though you weren't even sure what you had wanted to say anyway, when Mando squeezed your hand and nodded to the ladder. Understanding what he wanted to signal to you, you let your hand slip from his and began to climb back down, Mando following close behind. You were back where you had stood before, not knowing what to do. When Mando slipped his shoes off you did the same, just so you had something to occupy your mind with. When he turned to look at you, you stayed put where you were, frozen in place with your heart hammering against your ribs, begging you to let it escape. Did he really want to sleep in his armor again just so you could find some sort of relaxation, some form of comfort through his presence? Not to forget how painful it was to wake up earlier today for you, then you couldn’t possible imagine how it had to be for him. You suppressed the wince that would have spilled over your lips other wise and shook your head. Now wasn't about your comfort during sleep, but Mando's. And sleeping in armor definitely couldn’t be comfortable or even good for him. He should be able to relax in his ship and not be reminded of his job, his chaotic life through the armor he wore during the day and now at night, too.

"Isn't it uncomfortable to sleep in your armor?" you asked sincerely concerned and not just to gain some more seconds to try and sort your mind. Mando only shrugged his shoulders, while you rubbed the back of your neck that still felt a little stiff from this morning. "You don't have to-" you wanted to explain to him that he didn't have to do this for you when he would be uncomfortable as a result, that you would just try to sleep in your bed again so he felt comfortable enough to take the armor off and sleep alone in his cot. But every word got stuck in your throat when he did something you never thought your eyes would ever witness. He took off his armor, piece by piece, right in front of you. Your eyes grew wide and your mouth fell slightly open. "What-" you only managed to croak out as your eyes wandered over his form, the last piece of armor he still wore being his helmet and the rest of his clothing being what he wore underneath, a simple shirt and pants. You couldn't help yourself, you couldn't keep yourself from staring at him. His shoulders were still broad and wide even without the armor but only now did you notice his slender waist. You gulped and stopped your eyes from moving lower, bringing them back up, only for your heart to leap into your throat as you stared at his chest and arms that were now only covered by a dark, long-sleeved shirt. You already knew Mando was physically strong but the shirt did nothing to hide the muscles flexing in his arms and shoulders even when he was only standing before you. Why did you feel like he was standing bare before you when he only took his armor off and was still standing before you fully clothed? You felt your face heat up and your breath getting shallow at that thought. Your body tensed as you forced your eyes to stay on Mando's visor. You had embarrassed yourself enough already.

He hadn’t said anything when he had taken off his armor nor when he stepped closer to you, directing you backwards to the cot. When the back of your knees hit the edge you stumbled, almost falling on your back but Mando grabbed your hand and kept you upright. "Careful" he chuckled. Your face grew even hotter as you bit your lip, suppressing the mindless blabber that would have escape you otherwise. Slowly he lowered your still tilted off-center body until you found yourself on the exact same spot as yesterday. It felt rather surreal and you kept wondering if you weren’t just dreaming right now. Maybe you were still asleep? But when your eyes glanced at his exposed neck, the skin sun-kissed and flexing over his muscles in such detail, you were sure you couldn’t make this up during your sleep, that this had to be real. "Mando, I-" you began but he shushed you. "Let's just get some sleep, okay?" You nodded and stood up, letting Mando settled into his bed first. He laid down like he had yesterday, flat on his back with his arms on his stomach. For a second you hesitated, staring down at him before you followed him into the tight space, plopping down on your side with your back to him and snuggling underneath the blanket he had already draped over himself. You felt far too flustered to face him right now, especially with the lights still on. Without a word he closed the door to the cot and switched the lights off. You gulped, somehow feeling Mando's side pressed against your back even more prominently than before. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, snuggling deeper into the blanket in an attempt to make yourself fall asleep faster. Only to suddenly realize that everything in the cot smelled like the Mandalorian, smelled like something metallic (his beskar) mixed with something earthy, something grounding, something soothing. Heat immediately rushed back into your cheeks and your body tensed. Oh Maker, how were you supposed to fall asleep now? With Mando's scent in your nose and his body tightly pressed against you, you definitely couldn't. You didn't really feel uncomfortable but to say this position did anything for your still slightly sore back and neck was also not correct. And that your heart racing uncontrollably fast didn't help you in any way either. You couldn't relax like this.

Your eyes darted around in the dark as you tried to jump over your shadow and control your rapid breathing. Then, before you could back out again, you turned around underneath the blanket so you would have faced the Mandalorian if the lights were on. He didn't react or at least as far as you were aware. He could surely be looking at you through his visor, that probably had night vision, without moving his head. You gulped before carefully placing your hand on his chest. You felt him tense underneath your touch instantly, signaling you that he wasn't asleep yet. You felt how your cheeks heated up even more when your fingers brushed his muscular chest instead of the cold, hard beskar armor you were used to by now. "Mando?" you asked quietly, your voice trembling nervously while you patiently waited for an answer even after many seconds of silence. You wanted to make sure he was comfortable enough to answer you before you tried anything else. "Yes?" he finally said and you felt his head moving beside you ever so slightly. "Are you comfortable?" you questioned further. Another few seconds of silence followed in which the only thing you could focus on was how close you were to the unarmed Mandalorian. You could feel every muscle on his chest underneath your touch, still a bit tense but slowly loosening up more and more. You could feel his soothing warmth even more, now that the beskar wasn't in the way. You bit your lip, suppressing a sigh. "It's alright" he only answered, leaving your question rather unsatisfied. You took a deep breath, trying to stop your body from shaking and forced yourself to speak up again. "I am not" you whispered and felt him tense up again underneath your touch. You felt his head move once more, probably now completely turned to face you. He didn't say anything, just stared at you through the darkness. You struggled for words for a while, unsure how to continue without making him uncomfortable, without sounding too demanding. Then you lightly shook your head as far as that was possible lying on your side next to him. "Could you-" you began but bit your lip. Collecting all the courage you had left you forced yourself to continue. "Could you turn on your side?"

You stared into the darkness, at the unmoving Mandalorian as your pulse quickened. Nobody moved and you began to fear that you had overstepped a boundary. Maker, he had taken off his armor in front of you for the very first time. This must be even more uncomfortable for him than you. You gritted your teeth, cursing at yourself. You should have stayed silent and just tried to sleep. About to apologize you opened your mouth only to suddenly feel movement beside you. Before you knew it the Mandalorian laid on his side, but not like you had expected it with his back facing you, but with his chest. Your heart leaped into your throat, leaving you breathless and unable to form the words you had wanted to say out loud. You froze, your whole body tensed up in disbelief. "Is that better?" he asked, his voice an almost inaudible whisper. "Yeah" you croaked out. The silence that followed was deafening, making the beat of your heart even more audible and you were sure Mando must have been able to hear it, too. Your brain shut off, leaving you alone in the dark, helpless. How were you supposed to sleep now?! With your eyes wide you stared in front of you, stared into the darkness where Mando's chest was, only inches away from your face. You almost yelped in panic when you noticed that your hand was still touching him, pressed against his unarmored chest. But you couldn't move away. Was your mind blank only seconds before was it now swarming and crowded with thousand of thoughts.

You flinched when you suddenly felt a featherlight touch on your waist. You needed a few seconds to process that it was Mando's un-gloved hand. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice so soft his modulator didn't even pick it up. You realized that this was Mando's real voice, not the distorted sound of his helmet but what he would sound like without it. A shower of tingles wandered down your body, leaving you breathless. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to find the words. "Ye-yeah." Mando let his arm sneak around your waist, wrapping it around you and slowly pulling you against his chest. You didn't even notice that you were the one to tangle your legs with his, it felt intuitive. Suddenly you felt really dizzy. Was this really happening right now? You grabbed Mando's shirt with your shaking fingers and buried your head in his chest in a stupid attempt to hide. Because the moment you had to take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down, you only grew even more dizzy when his scent filled your nose. You cursed silently in your mind. But even through all of this, did you notice how your body slowly relaxed under this touch and warmth. Involuntary, you let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes.

"Thank you, Mando" you managed to whisper after probably minutes of silence. The Mandalorian didn't immediately retort anything to that and instead tightened his grip on your waist and squeezed the hand of his free arm between the two of you to place it on to of your hands that were still pressed firmly against his chest. "Din." You lifted your head to look at where his eyes must be hidden behind the darkness and furrowed your brows in lack of understanding. "What?" you asked confused. "Please. Call me Din." Your eyes widen and your face grew even hotter if that was even possible at that point. He ... he just revealed his name to you? Your breath hitched. He just revealed his name to you. "Din" you tested his name on your tongue in a hushed tone. The Mandalorian went rigid as he sucked in a sharp breath and you feared you had misunderstood him but then he pressed you even closer to him, making your heart skip a beat. You gasped for air in shock when he nestled into your hair as you felt his chin on top of your head and not the cold helmet. His legs had sneaked around yours, pinning you against him but you didn't feel trapped. Quite the opposite, you actually enjoyed his tight embrace. "Din?" you asked, your voice wavering noticeably. The grip around your waist tightened for a split second as he tried to stifle his sigh, making you chuckle and melt against him. "Din" you said again with a cheeky smile on your lips. The Mandalorian growled against you, making you jump in surprise. "Are you trying to torture me, cyar'ika?" he asked, his voice husky and low. You paused, not quite understanding what he meant by that. "What-" you began, shifting in his hold so you would be looking at his face in confusion if it weren't so dark. For a few seconds you just stared and thought until your eyes widen in realization as your mind caught on. "When was the last time someone called you by your name?" you asked in a hush. "Can't remember" he answered you in a low growl as he pressed himself against you. Your cheeks burned again in an instant as you struggled for words once more. Din’s breath stuttered through the modulator, his chest heaving against yours. You wondered if his mind was as blank as yours was but then he suddenly let go of your waist and instead grabbed both of your hands before you could collect yourself enough to react to any of the things he had said, to the things he had revealed to you. For a few moments he just drew soothing circles on the backs of your hands, tracing your soft skin as if it was the first time he felt it. Then he directed them upwards and placed them on each side of his helmet. After that no one moved and you barely dared to breathe. You hadn't touched his helmet before, always far too afraid since it seemed to be the most important part of his creed. But the only thing on your mind wasn’t your surprise at that and instead you could only focus on how the coldness of the beskar underneath your hands and the warmth of Din's hand on top sent shivers down your spine.

"(Y/N)?" You hummed in response, still unable to speak up, your mind far too clouded. "You can take it off." Your body stiffened as you blinked in confusion. Did he really just say that? You must have imagined that, right? Right? "B-but your creed?" you objected, staring into the darkness. "It's okay as long as you can't see my face" he explained, squeezing your hands before leaving them alone on his helmet as he wrapped his arms back around your waist, lifting you a bit further up so you were face to face with him. Your hands were still cupping the sides of his helmet as you sucked in a sharp breath. Were you really about to do this? It felt wrong even though he had asked you to. It felt … intimate. "Please, cyar'ika. Let me be close to you." Din's pleading voice and the foreign nickname send shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched as you pushed all your worries to the side and slowly lifting the helmet up. Its hiss echoed in your ears as you held your breath, your heart beating so strong you felt it in your throat. You pushed it up over his hair that brushed your hands, leaving tingles behind. Then you placed the helmet to the side and gasped when you felt Din's breath on your face. The sensation left you dizzy as your heart began to drum relentlessly against your chest. Your hands felt useless as they floated in the air, not knowing where to put them. For many seconds you didn’t dare to move before you squeezed one of your hands back between the two of you, placing it on his chest before taking a deep breath.

"Can I?" you asked in a whisper, your other hand hovering over where his cheek must be hiding in the darkness. A soft "Yeah" escaped Din's mouth and you didn't waste another second and gently placed your hand on his face. The sensation and his warmth left you with a feeling you couldn’t quite place or understand. Slowly you began to outline his features, let your hand wander from his chin up to his ear, feeling his strong jar and the slight stubble that adorned it. The combined feeling of his surprisingly soft skin and rougher stubble left you breathless. You let your hand placed on his cheek for a few moments, trying to collect your thoughts and failing miserably. You sucked in a sharp breath and carefully continued to let your fingers wander to his forehead, tracing his eyebrow you felt how his eyes fluttered close. Then your touch traveled back down, mapping out the shape of his nose. In the end your fingers hovered over his lips and you felt his breath against them as they trembled. Gently you placed them on his chin and felt your way up to his bottom lip. You traced the outline of his mouth in a trance and when he chuckled against you, you didn’t even flinch and joined in. Your fingers found their way further up, to the corner of his lips, feeling the stubble above his lips form into a mustache. You chuckled again. He took your breath away. "Beautiful" you whispered as you continued to caress the corner of his mouth. You felt it crinkle up in a smile as Din laughed, the rumble of it vibrating in your chest, the sound hypnotizing you. "Mesh'la" he responded in a hushed tone, as he drew your faces closer. You weren't sure what the word meant but you didn't really care right now. His scent so metallic yet earthy, so soft yet sensual and warm it left you breathless and with your thoughts spinning, craving more. Your heart hammered against your ribs, screaming and begging for a few more millimeters, only a small push forward. You were sure Din was able to feel the echo of your heart against his own chest. He shifted lightly against you, wrapping his legs around you more, and tightening his grip on your waist, drawing your body even closer even though not a single hair could fit in between you two anymore. Your sleepiness was completely forgotten by now as you stared into the darkness, not able to close your eyes even though you couldn't even see anything. But you didn't need your eyes to see him, to know how beautiful he was. He lowered his head, placing his forehead against yours. You were glad to note that you weren't the only one whose breath stuttered over your lips at that. You couldn't help but melt into him, soaking in his warmth and the feeling of comfort, the feeling of belonging right there with him. Feeling like this was all that life was, feeling safe and protected. At peace. You let your hand wander to his hair, burying your fingers into his locks. The slight tug made Din growl once more, the sound low and dangerous, teasing and daring you to continue. You smiled and brushed his hair back, taking part in the game he dared you to play with him, no matter the consequences. You wanted to see what he would do, you wanted more. All those months of faint touches, whispers of being close to one another, had left you even more touch-starved then before, even more desperate. You didn’t care for the unspoken boundaries anymore. You just wanted to let yourself fall into your desire, a desire Din seemed to share. Slowly one of his hands crept up the back of your neck to also bury his fingers in your hair. The sensation made you gasp and your hair stand on end. You were sure Din was grinning at that, proud and pleased. Out of instinct you freed one of your legs from his and draped it over his waist, seeking to be even closer to him, even though his whole body was already pressed against you and his lips so close that you could feel the ghost of his breath on yours. It made you shiver in anticipation. Pressing your forehead even more against his you took a deep breath, taking in his soothing scent. Only a few millimeters more and you would have the closeness you sought. Only a few millimeters closer to fulfill the whishes of your heart. Only a few millimeters closer and you would have known how his lips felt dancing against your own.

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Tigaanur Series: Part 1 | Part 2 (you’re here!) | Part 3 | MASTERLIST

No kisses, hehehehe. Want to have a third part with them kissing? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Then leave a comment and reblog! Feedback is always highly appreciated, it keeps me motivated and I’d just like to know what y’all think and if you liked it!

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Taglists:

Permanent Simps: @buckysalefty / ...

Din Djarin Simps: ... looking for members! ...

If you want to be added to any taglist just write me a message!

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader #mando x reader #female reader #x reader #star wars x reader #fluff #the mandalorian oneshot #the mandalorian imagine #Tigaanur series #mando #the mandalorian season 1

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

Nobody's Perfect (part4)

Warning - angst / pregnancy? / Smut

Taglist Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x

"What do you mean it's split??" You looked at him, hoping against hope he was joking.

"What else could I possibly mean y/n?!" You pushed past him into the bathroom to see for yourself. Sure enough, there it was. Burst at the top, how neither of you had felt it you didn't know.

"Listen y/n..."

"Shut up. I'll take care of it, okay." He nodded. You binned it, and moved back past him to put your jeans back on.

"You okay?" He asked, his face still pale.

"Cillian.. stop panicking okay? I'll go to the pharmacy and get the morning after pill. It'll be like nothing happened. I wish nothing HAD happened."

He pulled his own jeans back on and sat on the same chair you'd just ridden him on, head back, hands on his face.

"You mean that?" He asked, bringing his elbows onto his knees and clasping his hands together, looking at you now, leaning against the counter.

"Yes. No... God I don't know.. you.. you fucking hurt me Cillian..." Tears back in your eyes, you sniffed lightly. "I made it to 27 before I had a one night stand, I was rather proud of myself. Then you came along."

"I'm not proud of what I did okay?" He stood and wrapped his arms round you. "I was married for 12 years until about 18 months ago."

"You were?" He pulled away and sat back on the chair.

"We had been trying for a baby for 3 years. Nothing. Then she got pregnant. I was over the moon, went to all the scans, the blood tests, helped her through the morning sickness.. held her hand when our daughter was born.. the works. A father, at last.. then my world came crashing down around me."

You sat opposite him and took his hand.

Cillian's flashback

Bunch of flowers in one hand and a small teddy bear in the other, Cillian approached his front door smiling. He'd finished his theatre run of Ballyturk a few days earlier than expected and was surprising his wife and new baby. Unlocking the front door, he stepped quietly inside and moved into the kitchen. The house was strangely quiet - her car was on the drive, so she must've been home? Checking his watch, 2pm - Niamh's nap time, she was probably resting herself.

Creeping up the stairs so as not to disturb them, he peered into his daughters nursery and smiled at the small 3 month old bundle sleeping soundly. He was desperate to pick her up but settled for a gentle kiss on the top of her head instead. Placing the teddy at the bottom of her cot, he heard a noise from the main bedroom.

Making his way down the landing, he went to open his and Liane's bedroom door before freezing.

"Fuck... Yes..." That wasn't Liane...

"Harder!!" That was...

"You gonna come for me Liane?" His mind was whirring at 100 miles per hour. He took a deep breath to calm himself down.

Pushing the door open, in his best poker face possible, he stood watching as his best friend, the best man at his wedding, was pounding into his wife.

"You gonna come or what, Liane?" His voice pierced the room, making Liane and Mark freeze and spin around, covering themselves and staring at Cillian, who simply walked out of the room and went downstairs.

He sat at the dining table, head in his hands, refusing to let the tears fall. Liane and Mark came downstairs and cautiously approached him.

"You were away filming for almost 2 years solid... I just... I didn't mean for it to happen..." Liane spoke.

"I haven't filmed a fucking thing for 9 months Liane. But it's good to know exactly how long you've been fucking my wife, Mark." He didn't look at either of them. His calmness was almost scaring Liane.

"Cillian I'm sorry man..." Mark broke the silence.

"Shut the fuck up. You've been fucking my wife for the best part of 3 years and you think you have a right to fucking speak to me? You were my best friend! I introduced you to your fucking wife! You have kids! WE have a child, Liane!" His voice was getting louder, he had to bite his fist to stop himself as the sudden realisation dawned on him. His eyes flashed red, unable to fully process it.

"Cillian..."

"Is she mine? Liane, is she mine?!" Her silence spoke volumes. Cillian dropped to his knees, the shock taking his legs from under him. He felt like a truck had hit him at full speed, knocking the wind out of him. Mark moved to pick him up, before being violently shoved across the room and slammed into the wall. Liane rushed upstairs to soothe Niamh who was now wide awake and screaming.

"You're lucky I haven't wiped the fucking floor with your face, you slimy bastard..." He gripped Mark's shirt so tight he couldn't feel his fingers, before slamming him back against the wall and storming out the house.

Flashback over

"I went back to Cork. Called my Dad on the way there to let him know I was staying for a few days. DNA test was done. Mark was Niamh's father."

"Cill... I'm so sorry, I had no idea.."

"No one knew. We kept it quiet. No one knew. Just divorced and she moved on. Haven't seen her since."

You truly didn't know what to say. The man in front of you was a shell of the one you knew before.

"Cillian Murphy, the 'golden balls of fucking Hollywood' - couldn't even keep his own fucking wife satisfied enough not to fuck his best friend. Couldn't father a child himself, after years of trying. Wouldn't worry too much about that morning after pill, probably not capable of knocking you up anyway."

"Cillian..."

"So after that, I refused to let anyone else in. Yeah, I fucked around - made sure it was with people I trusted to keep quiet and not run to the papers with it. Co-stars who needed a quick fling. Makeup artists and crew members that no one would believe anyway. It was working just fine, until.."

"Until what?"

"Until you, y/n. No one else managed to get under my skin the way you have. No one else wanted more from me - but you did. So I did what I had to do to make you hate me. I needed you to NOT want me.."

"How's that working for you?" You couldn't help but chuckle, and it made him smile.

"Yeah.. not going to plan anymore. Fuck, I'm sorry.. I am.. I didn't set out to hurt you, I was protecting myself. Selfish right?"

"Yes, but I understand. How about we start again? Forget what's happened, a fresh start?"

"I'd really like that y/n. I'm not an asshole.. just stupid."

"I'll agree with you on that. Come here." You lifted him to his feet and wrapped your arms around him. You held each other for a few minutes, before he leaned back and stroked your hair.

"What are you doing to me, huh?"

"Giving you a chance at being happy - you're allowed to be happy, Cillian. Not all women are out to break your heart. Don't let past relationships define future ones. I'm a fucking sweetheart!" You grinned and he laughed again. You could lose yourself hearing that laugh.

"You're certainly something." he nudged your nose with his.

"I have a request..."

"Name it."

"I don't want anyone knowing what happened between us.. it's private.. and this is my first real role, my turn to be selfish but kinda looks bad.." He nodded.

"Deal. So do I still get to kiss you?"

"Maybe."

"Touch you?"

"Maybe." He leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"Fuck you?" You gasped as his lips brushed your neck.

"Definitely."

#cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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nocapesdahling · 3 years

Text

As the World Falls Down - Chapter 3

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: In which you have a plan to save yourself and Alena, but have no idea if it’s going to work. Either way, you have to try.

Rating: Mature (17+)

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Angst; Misunderstandings that lead to angst; Established canon character deaths; Did I mention angst?

A/N: We have reached the end of Part 1 and the Age of Ultron arc. I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far, and would love to hear your thoughts.

Chapter 3: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 2.4k

You made sure Alena was strapped in tightly on your chest and that everything was in place. With time running out and Novi Grad continuing to rise, it was as good as it was going to get. You needed to move now. You had your prototype boots and gauntlets, which should allow you to fly. You hoped they would at least. Your main consolation was that they worked during testing, even if that had been in a controlled environment.

You had always admired Tony Stark, being something of a child prodigy yourself and starting college at a similar age to him. When you had first seen the Iron Man suit, your first thoughts had been of awe like any person who got a glimpse of Iron Man. Yet most people probably didn’t think what you had thought later, while considering the technology behind the suit and how to go about making your own.

Well, if he can do it then why can’t I? How hard could it be, really?

It turned out to be a bit more difficult than you’d thought, but you had developed something after much trial and error. However, you hadn’t tested anything in the open air yet. The previous test was only a short one to see if your prototypes would work and you had hovered a few feet over solid ground at most. That was why your plan only had a 65% success rate, but you had confidence in your technology and hope. In Sokovia, you couldn’t get far without hope.

You noticed the air getting thin as the city continued to rise, so you fitted Alena with an oxygen mask. You had a tank available in your apartment for squad emergencies, and were amazed how many times it had been used in the past. Your squad got into the oddest situations. There had been Andrei’s mission with the diplomat and the ice cream swimming pool and Mila’s with the yacht and the hammerhead sharks. All classified of course.

You digressed. There were more important things to consider right now, even as you wondered how your squad would take the loss of their handler when Helmut told them. You knew that it would hit them harder than they would ever admit. They emulated Helmut’s stoicism when in the field and today was still a mission, even if it was unlike any other. The destruction of one’s home was not something any of them had encountered before. If you couldn’t be there, then you hoped your gadgets would help to protect them today and in the future. You planned to be there.

You clipped the oxygen tank to your tactical gear and hoped that it wouldn’t unbalance you too much. You would need all the balance you could muster if this plan were to succeed.

Once you were as ready as you could be, it was time. The city had to fall at some point and you wanted to be in the air when it did as the height it had reached would cause a destructive impact radius. You brushed a kiss to Alena’s head, seeing her little feet kicking and knowing that she was awake.

“Not the best timing, little one. This might be a bit scary, Alena, so I wanted you to know that I love you. Already. So much. I think I loved you as soon as I saw you. Wish us luck, my little Alena Heike. We’re going to need it.”

With that and the realization that you had reached the edge of the city, you took a deep breath, taking one last glance back at the city that had been your home for most of your life. Then, you braced yourself, stepped off the edge, and flew. Well, you took a moment to stabilize yourself as the only other time you had done this was in a local park in the middle of the night and then you had grass to land on not open sky. But then, you flew.

You flew like the birds you had admired for their freedom and grace and like Iron Man. Tony Stark had nothing on you. You let out a joyful laugh, forgetting your circumstances for a moment. You forgot the swarm of robots on the other side of the city, the fact that your home was in the process of being destroyed, that you may never see Helmut again, and that you weren’t sure if you and your baby would get out of this alive. Nothing else mattered at that moment because you were flying.

Then you were shocked back to the present as to your disbelief the city began to freefall, plummeting quickly and devastatingly towards Earth before exploding mid air. You could see from where you were that it looked like Iron Man and Thor had blown it up somehow, but you couldn’t understand why the Avengers hadn’t been able to stop it from falling in the first place.

Why hadn’t they been able to save Sokovia? They had saved New York. It didn’t make sense. The world had painted them as infallible. These were Earth’s heroes? They did not look so “Mighty” now.

The debris began to land too hard and too fast. It looked like it would impact more of the surrounding area than you had anticipated.

You gasped in horror, the tears freezing on your cheeks. If a building was hit with debris of that size, then the result would be catastrophic. You worried immediately for your squad and Helmut, turning on your earpiece with frantic movements even as you unbalanced without one of your gauntlets.

You tried Helmut. You tried Ana, Branko, Claudia, Andrei, and the other members of your squad. No one answered.

The base wasn’t that far away, not when you calculated the radius of the debris. It would be difficult, but you could make it there. You had to make it there. You needed to know.

You flew above and around where the debris was falling and jerkily made your way towards the base, still not as smooth as you wished you were or as fast as you wanted to be. You arrived to the sight you hoped not to see.

The base had been hit by a large piece of debris from the city and was collapsing in on itself. You landed as smoothly as you could a distance away and caught yourself on a tree, falling to your knees. No one could have survived that.

Helmut was gone. Helmut Zemo was dead.

Your chest hurt and your vision was blurry as your mind whirled.

You had survived, while Helmut had died. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You would never see him again.

How did this happen?!, was your last thought before slumping backwards into a faint.

In your horror at the base’s collapse, you had forgotten the existence of its reinforced underground bunker where technology did not work and where your entire squad including their leader, Colonel Helmut Zemo, waited for the dust of Novi Grad to settle. Very much alive and in quiet mourning for their lost Q. They would exit through the tunnels a few hours later, coming out miles away from where you collapsed.

In fact, you wouldn’t recall the bunker’s existence until a little over a year later and by then it would be too late.

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

You awoke in the hospital. It took you a moment to realize what had happened and where you were. With that, came the realization in your mind that you would never see Helmut or hear his deep voice calling you his Q ever again. Despite the gaping hole in your chest and your desire to let yourself be numb, you needed to find Alena. You gasped and sat up too quickly before falling backwards out of dizziness.

You breathed in and out to calm yourself the way you often had as you assisted your squad in the completion of missions, and clicked the button to raise the bed as you looked around the room. You were in a gown and had no idea what had happened to your gauntlets and boots, but hoped they had been destroyed in the landing.

You heard Helmut’s voice in your head as you pinpointed the potential exits and any possible weapons.

“The first step, my Q, is to always survey your surroundings. Get your bearings and be prepared for anything. Be prepared to fight, but also to run if necessary. There is no shame in running. Running can save your life and I, my darling Q, would much rather see you alive .”

You smiled bitterly before letting it fade. You were not in any shape to run at the moment, and Helmut was no longer there to advise you. Your memories of him would have to suffice.

As you surveyed the room, you glimpsed your pack in the corner of the room and what looked like your highly damaged prototypes alongside it. There next to your bed was a crib and laying inside was Alena, who looked clean, like she had been changed, and who was sleeping soundly.

You let a small and real smile touch your lips. She was safe. You were safe. Both of you were alive. Helmut was not.

No, you couldn’t let yourself think of it. Not now. Maybe, not ever.

You pressed the call button for the nurse, hoping this was a real hospital and not some elaborate plot. It looked real, but one could never be sure.

“Finally awake, are you? Good, I’m glad to see it. I was beginning to worry about what might happen to your daughter.” The nurse said in rapid fire Sokovian as she bustled into the room.

“Yes, thank you. How long have we been here and where are we?” You had to clear your throat multiple times and even then your voice came out as a rasp.

The nurse poured some water into a cup, drank it, and then offered you some as well. “You probably do not remember, but you were rescued three days ago. You have been awake sporadically, and even then you were groggy. That is why you do not remember. For your second question, you are in a hospital in the Czech Republic. We are taking care of multiple Sokovian refugees.”

“But you are speaking Sokovian?”

The nurse frowned and leaned closer. She looked like she wanted to pat your hand or hold it. You were glad she did not. “Sokovia is gone. This time for good. There were not many survivors. My mother was Sokovian. I thought a familiar language might be of comfort to you. It has been to the other survivors we’re treating.”

You attempted to read her face and her eyes like Helmut had taught you. She drank the water before giving you some, which was a point in her favor. She also did not look like a plant and you let yourself relax a bit, but kept your guard up in case you were wrong. You knew that Novi Grad had been destroyed and the devastation the debris must have caused, but it was hard to believe that your country was gone. It had been failing for years, but it was still yours. Yours, Heike’s, Carl’s, Alena’s, and Helmut’s. Now, it would only exist in the memory of its survivors.

You pushed the thought of Helmut aside for the moment, but at the thought of Heike and Carl you knew what question needed to be asked. “Have they released a list of survivors?”

“Not yet, but I do not want you to get your hopes up.”

You hated to think that the nurse was right, that Heike and Carl were also gone. They had been miles from the city however, so you had to hold on to hope for their sake. You could not consider never seeing Heike’s hair in the sunlight or Carl’s smiling face again. They were part of your family. You needed to find out what happened to them. “Please let me know as soon as they release the list.”

“I will, dear. I will.” The nurse gave you a pained smile that looked more like a grimace. “Now, we got your name and identification from your pack. I was in charge of your admission papers, and did not include any reference to your military rank to be safe. Sokovia is gone, so I did not want it to make you a target. What you were wearing alone looked like it would draw some attention.”

You nodded and thought briefly, knowing that had only happened because the nurse had ties to Sokovia. She was showing honest care and concern in the best way she could, and you appreciated it. You had been correct in her not being a plant then. You pictured Helmut’s smile when you told him that you were putting his training to good use, before remembering that he was…

You couldn’t bring yourself to think the word. You had to keep it together. You couldn’t falter now. Not when Alena was counting on you.

You realized the nurse was still waiting for some kind of answer. “Thank you. A civilian life might be just what I need.”

The nurse smiled back, “Yet, we have no information on this little one. I have a birth certificate here to fill out. You are one of her parents, yes?” Alena continued to sleep in her crib, oblivious to the world around her.

“Yes,” you swallowed and rapidly thought of how to answer the next question that you knew was coming.

“And her other parent?”

“He died in Sokovia,” you felt a tear roll down your cheek. You wondered if you were prepared to continue. Saying it out loud made it real.

“I’m sorry to hear that, dear.” The nurse did pat your hand this time in commiseration before withdrawing when you tensed up. “Would you still like to put his name on the certificate?”

You steadied your breathing and hoped that when (you couldn’t bring yourself to think if) you found Heike, wherever she may be, that she would understand. You knew that you could not regret this decision. It felt too right for that.

“Yes,” you responded haltingly. The words seemed to catch in your throat. “His name is… Helmut Zemo and our baby’s name is Alena Heike Zemo.”

End of Part 1 - To Be Continued in Part 2: Burn it to the Ground…

A/N: I know this chapter was angsty, but I hope you enjoyed part 1 of this fic. Part 2 will not have as regular updates because Part 1 was pre-written, but I’m working on it. Thank you all for reading!

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fruitcoops · 4 years

Note

hiiiii no pressure, but would it be possible for you to do a fic with coops with one of them in a depressive episode ??? i’m currently struggling right now.

it’s completely fine, if not!!!!

Dear anon,

I am so sorry you’re struggling right now and I wish you the absolute best in your recovery. Depression is a terrible thing to deal with--please remember that you are not alone in this and that there are so many people who care about you. This goes for anyone else who reads this fic as well: you are loved. You are appreciated.

This fic is not intended to make light of depression or pretend that love magically makes it go away, because it doesn’t. If you are battling depression, know that there are hotlines and support systems for you. If I got anything wrong in this fic, please please let me know so I can fix it and avoid the spread of misinformation.

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW: Depression, insomnia, self-deprecating thoughts, hospitals, mention of child abuse (Sirius), mention of past injury and hospitalization (Remus)

Remus should have known better.

At least, that’s what he told himself. He should have known better than to stay those extra few minutes at the hospital, should have known better than to linger in the sports medicine ward.

But there he was, laying wide awake at 3 in the morning with the scent of antiseptic still burning in his nose despite the lavender candle on Sirius’ nightstand and their freshly-washed sheets. Sirius snored lightly behind him; Remus was exhausted down to his bone marrow, but his eyes refused to close. This is what you get for trying to help. This is what happens when you think you’re finally healed. You’re damaged goods, Lupin, and you don’t deserve all this.

Sirius snuffled in his sleep and nuzzled between Remus’ shoulder blades with a gentle sigh. His heart ached, suddenly and viciously—who was he to try and claim someone so radiant? How could he ever repay Sirius for everything he took? It wasn’t like he had anything worth giving.

He didn’t sleep that night, instead watching the dawn come raw and red between the slats of their blinds. Sirius inhaled slowly as he woke; sometime during Remus’ previous blink, two hours had passed and the sun was out of sight.

“Re?” a soft, accented voice murmured. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deep. There was no need to burden him. Sirius hummed and kissed the back of his neck; the steady rumble of his chest was soothing, like Remus’ own personal thunderstorm.

The heavy fog over his brain settled in fully by nine, and still Remus had not moved. He was too warm beneath the blankets and the tangled sheets were slowly driving him nuts, but he wasn’t strong enough to move his leaden limbs.

“Sweetheart. Are you up?” There was a gentle knock at the door and Sirius poked his head in. “Bonne matin.”

“Hey, you.” Get up, get up, get up. With Herculean effort, Remus dragged himself into a slumped sitting position.

Sirius faltered. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” Remus lied, forcing a smile. “Didn’t sleep well.”

The bed creaked as Sirius sat down and reached up to feel his forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re warm.”

I’m burning.

Don’t bother him.

“Really, I’m okay.” He took Sirius’ hand and pulled it down to his lap.

“Do you want some breakfast?”

The mere thought of food made his stomach turn and he shook his head. “I think I’m just going to try and sleep for a bit. What time do we have practice?”

“We’re off this week, remember?”

“Right.” Remus ran a hand down his face, wincing at how sweaty he was. “Right, sorry, yeah.”

“What’s going on, Re?” Sirius asked. His thumb ran over Remus’ knuckles, but he couldn’t feel it. He could see them in his mind’s eye: Sirius, beautiful and strong, doing his goddamn best to hold together Remus, the lost cause. “Remus?”

“Sorry, what?” Remus blinked as he came back to reality. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”

“That’s what you said earlier, but I don’t think I believe you.”

“I’m sorry.” Listen to yourself, you’re like a broken record.

“Hey, it’s okay, mon coeur.” Sirius’ hands moved to his face and came away damp; when had he started crying, again? “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah, it’s alright, you should go have breakfast—”

“Remus.” The softness of his voice broke something deep in Remus’ chest and a choked whine escaped.

Why do you talk to me like that?

“Because I love you and I’m worried.” Remus clenched his teeth; he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Re, please tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

“I don’t need your help,” he snapped, voice cracking. “There’s nothing you can do about this.”

He squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden wave of frustration, but he could still see the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital. God, he had smelled horrible when he woke up in those crisp, itchy sheets, like rubbing alcohol and fear. His shoulder wasn’t torn apart anymore—destroyed, we’re so sorry—but something else was.

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve been broken for years and you deserve better.” Around the bitter taste of orange Jell-O, there was something salty.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Why not?” He couldn’t look Sirius in the eyes. He knew what he would only see forgiveness, undeserved forgiveness that he couldn’t handle. “You could have anyone in the world, Sirius. Do you understand that? You could have someone beautiful and perfect—”

“Remus.” A steady hand cradled his jaw and he froze. “Remus, I don’t want perfect.”

“You deserve perfect,” he croaked. “You deserve so much more than I can give you.”

“You give me everything I need and more, sweetheart.”

“You deserve someone who doesn’t sleep on the couch for a week because they were scared of loving you.”

“We were both scared, and I forgave you for that a long time ago.”

“Sirius, you deserve someone who isn’t in pieces all the time.”

Sirius made a low, sad sound and pulled him close to his side, resting his forehead on his temple. “Let me decide what I deserve, okay? We’re both a little broken and we love each other anyway.”

“How can you say that?” Remus clutched the hand draped over his shoulder. He could feel Sirius’ heartbeat.

“Remus, my parents were horrible. I get nervous when people move too fast and had an anxiety attack when coach yelled last week. Do you still love me?”

“Of course I do,” he said immediately, turning to hold Sirius’ face between his palms. “Of course I love you, none of that was your fault.”

“There’s your answer.” Sirius leaned into the touch and kissed his forearm. “I love you for all of it, Re. Every second, every argument, everything. There is nobody else I want more than you and you are worthy of it all.”

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled back the tears and snot. Ugh. “My brain just…”

“I know. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Sirius flipped back the covers and scooted beneath, shifting around until the sheets were straight again. He stared up at Remus with absolute affection in his eyes; there was no pity, no exasperation.

Remus slid down with a sigh. “We have things we need to do.”

“Right now, we’re going to do what we need to do to make you feel better.” Sirius paused. “Do you know what triggered it?”

“The hospital,” Remus said quietly. “The smell, the lights…it reminded me of a lot, and now I just feel shitty. Please don’t feel like you have to stay here.”

“I’m here because I want to be here.” Sirius opened his arms. “Cuddle?”

“Can I hold your hand instead?”

The fog was returning, but Sirius’ hand was solid in his own, an anchor against the rolling tide. Like the tide, this exhaustion would loom and frighten and threaten to drag him under, but it would also pass, and Sirius would be with him through it all.

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lifeinahole27 · 4 years

Text

CS ff: “Christmas Miss-mas” (au)

Summary: It’s been a year since they saw each other, after the previous year’s disastrous events, but what the two remember is hardly what it seems. One basement, three different events.

Rating: T

A/N: Hiiiii @ouatpost. I feel like you should’ve known it was me from the moment I went “Well, this is going to be laaaaate,” because that’s what I seem to do every damn year. BUT! I have this completed and just in the nick of time for the end of 2020! I hope you enjoy! I had much grander visions for this, but thanks to work (we have a trio of new employees we’re trying to wrangle and it’s uhhhhh not going well at all) and a slew of dumb complications (this morning’s was waking up to a pinched nerve in my neck) I was just happy to be able to get words on the page for you, hopefully in an order that pleases you, with some details you shared that you enjoy reading! It’s not as grand as I wanted, but I do hope it’s still to your liking. <3

Thank you @cssecretsanta2020 for another awesome year, and for knocking me back into my writing. You are a rockstar and deserve so many fruit baskets in gratitude.

-x-

Christmas Party 2019

As far as parties go, Mary Margaret and David Nolan’s Christmas Party has always been Emma’s favorite. For as long as she’s been a Storybrooke resident, there’s been a party to go to. Back when she was fifteen and freshly adopted by David’s mother, Ruth, the parties were a little different. They drank sparkling grape juice and hung out in the farmhouse’s basement.

That’s where David met Mary Margaret his senior year of high school, where they officially decided to start dating the week after, and where he asked her to marry him four years later.

When Ruth passed away the year after they were married, David moved back into the farmhouse with Mary Margaret, and the two of them began restoring the house. Now, after all these years, the house is exactly what the two of them have always wanted with the recent addition of a nursery for their upcoming child.

What does any of this have to do with Emma? Well, with David as her brother, she’s expected to be at the party every year. She also offered to help with whatever Mary Margaret needed since she’s due next month and she knows the expectant mother is going to go overboard as usual. And while she’s never had the urge or need to cancel in the past, she fervently wishes she could this year.

For the first time in a year, she’s going to be facing Killian – former best friend, complicated story… the man she thought was the love of her life, if she’s being 100% honest. Her stomach flutters, thinking about how David had casually mentioned Killian was back in town. They’ve done just fine avoiding each other since last year, but with Killian’s own invitation to the party implied, she knows that their streak is likely to end tonight.

In the event that this is the case, Emma has spared no attention to detail for her outfit. She’s strong. She’s independent. And she certainly doesn’t need a man in her life to make it valid. So what if she wants to remind Killian of everything he’s missing out on? The red dress hugs her body, and is probably lower cut than she usually wears around her brother, but she doesn’t care.

Makeup? Perfect. Hair? Flawless. Jewelry? The earrings are from Killian, and she tries to ignore the way that makes her feel as she secures the backing. With one last fluff of her hair and a quick check to make sure she didn’t get lipstick on her teeth, Emma takes a bracing breath and grabs her coat as she walks out of her apartment.

-x-

Alone in a room in Granny’s B&B, Killian stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror with dread crossing his features. He checks his pocket watch one last time, knowing he has to leave if he’s to make it there fashionably late instead of just plain tardy.

It’s been almost a full year since he saw Emma last.

He can hardly remember a time before that where they went more than a week without seeing each other, not to mention talking or texting every day. For years, the two of them had been inseparable, since the first time they met. He braces himself on the edge of the sink as he thinks about the series of parties they’ve lived through together, looking at himself only once he feels the pain fade from his expression.

While he’s always looked forward to The Nolan Christmas Party in the past, he’s sure Emma wants nothing to do with him after what happened last year. He’s still not sure how exactly he went from total euphoria one moment to losing his best friend, the woman he loves, all in the next moment.

Loves.

Bloody hell, but it’s true. He still loves her with every dark corner of his heart, not that it matters much. Etched into his memory is the look she gave him after… just after.

With one last heavy sigh at the lost moments and memories, Killian checks his reflection for the last time. He looks like shit, as he confirms as he glances over his reflection. At least he went for a haircut and shaved down his beard before tonight. Liam had taken to calling him Chuck, after Tom Hanks’ character on Castaway, and asking him if he’d lost Wilson again.

Right. Time to face the past. He slips on his jacket and heads out the door.

Christmas Party 2015

It’s not every day you meet your equal in the basement of someone else’s house, but that’s how Killian and Emma meet.

Emma wanders down to the unfinished basement to quietly raid the cookies she knows Mary Margaret didn’t put out and finds a man sitting on the half-finished bar. By next year, Emma’s sure this area, too, will be up and running for the yearly party and she can’t wait.

But back to the stranger sitting in her brother’s basement.

“Hi there,” she says when she hits the bottom step.

His head jerks up and he lurches off the bar, glancing up to look at the door Emma shut behind her. “Bollocks,” he mutters, hanging his head again and dragging himself back to where he’d been sitting.

“What’s going on?” Emma asks, looking between the guy she still doesn’t know and the basement door. Was he waiting for someone else? Disappointed that it’s not another woman that wandered down here? Or man? She doesn’t know what he’s into, but far be it for her to judge.

“Welcome to the basement party. Population is now two, and you are also stuck down here.” He’s brooding, clearly, but he has to be lying.

Emma jogs back up the stairs and tries the door, surprised to find that the handle doesn’t budge. It’s locked. How is it locked? Why is it locked?

“David!” Emma yells out as she bangs on the door. “David, the door is locked!”

“He won’t hear you,” the man says from the bottom of the staircase. “The speaker seems to be precisely in a location that’s drowning out all sound from the door. And there’s too many people moving around for anyone to hear the ruckus I’ve been making against the ceiling for the last half hour.”

“Fuck. You’re not kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Great.”

“Aye. Well, nice to meet you, lass. I’m Killian Jones. I tagged along with Will.” He jumps off the bar again to hold out his hand to her.

“Emma Swan. Sister of the host. And apparently locked down in my brother’s basement with a complete stranger.”

“You can’t call us complete strangers if we already know each other’s names.”

“That’s flimsy logic, and you know it,” Emma says, crossing her arms after extracting her hand from his. He’s flirting with her? At a time like this?

“Ah, but now we’ve got time to get acquainted, it seems,” he says, holding out his arms to indicate the empty space they’re occupying.

She should be disappointed about missing the party, but it’s quickly obvious that all the good food is stashed down here, as are all of Emma’s favorite cookies. And while the bar and surrounding basement might not be finished yet, there’s a good selection of wine and beer already in stock. And, if she’s being honest with herself, he’s certainly nice to look at. She’s curious to see if the personality matches the looks.

Emma finds the cushions for the outdoor furniture and throws them on the floor as she and Killian graze the offerings like a picnic. They pass the time by talking shit about the people they don’t like at the party, and she’s surprised by how easily she gets along with him already.

As the time ticks by, she finds herself laughing, enjoying herself more than if she’d been upstairs getting shitfaced and avoiding said people she doesn’t like.

The music cuts out at 11pm, and while it would be the perfect opportunity for either one of the trapped guests to make noise to get rescued, both of them are fast asleep, stretched out on cushions with Killian’s suit jacket draped over Emma’s shoulders.

At 11:30pm when the last guests finally head out, David heads to the basement to get a fresh box of trash bags and finds Emma asleep with a man he only briefly met at the start of the party.

“Emma?”

She startles awake, sitting up and blinking at David in confusion.

“What are you doing down here?” he asks, noticing that Killian is still out solid.

“Killian and I got locked down here. Your door sucks,” Emma grumbles, just avoiding rubbing her eyes so she doesn’t smear her makeup. “Killian. Hey. Wake up.” With a few shoves of his shoulder, Emma rouses her companion. “David, I’m staying in the guest room. And you’re out of Malbec.”

“Noted,” David says, still very befuddled with everything going on. “Killian? Do you need to crash here for the night? I know you arrived with Will but he left with Belle over an hour ago.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Killian says, sounding more alert than Emma would’ve expected after how fast asleep he was.

“You’re not,” she tells him. “I’ll give you a ride home in the morning.”

It’s this, more than anything, which makes David raise his eyebrows in surprise. He hasn’t seen Emma take this fast to anyone… almost ever. Here she is falling asleep near and offering a ride to someone David knows by reputation alone. (Said reputation is a mixed bag from some questionable sources, so he will do his best to reserve judgement despite his protective instincts firing up.)

Even as David helps Killian get settled on the couch, Emma is puttering around with a blanket and pillow, explaining where everything is if Killian should need it. When David and Emma get upstairs to the entrance to both his bedroom (a single glance shows Mary Margaret face-down on the bed without even changing) and the guest room, he goes to ask the obvious, but Emma just smiles.

“Goodnight, David. Go tend to your wife,” she says with an affectionate smile. She hugs him and walks into the room, closing the door behind her.

What on Earth just happened? he wonders.

Christmas Party 2019

Getting to the Nolan household early means more than just helping set everything up. It also means getting to spend time with her sister-in-law before the chaos of the party begins.

Emma heads straight to the office on the first floor and hangs her coat on the rolling rack they have specifically for this purpose. She takes a deep breath and goes to find Mary Margaret to get the other woman off her feet as much as possible.

As they finish the party preparations, Emma happily listens to the town gossip and the baby updates.

“You know Killian will be here tonight, right?” Mary Margaret’s question is tentative. She doesn’t really know what happened between the two of them, but she’s never pushed. Emma is pretty sure she knows the depth of Emma’s feelings for Killian, so the fact that she a) never told him (notoriously bad secret-keeper that she is) and b) never harassed Emma for any information she didn’t willingly give has been a huge relief.

“I thought I’d heard that rumor,” Emma says, trying to keep her voice calm and even. She can do this. She can come face to face with the man she loves… Loved? She stops herself from sighing, not even sure if she managed to shuffle that into the past tense.

“I just wanted you to be prepared,” Mary Margaret says, still doing her best not to pry even though Emma can hear that note in her voice that screams of curiosity.

Emma just smiles, shaking her head and putting the finishing touches on the charcuterie board she’s been painstakingly assembling. “How’s that?” she asks when she’s done, taking a picture of the whole butcher’s block and going to show her so Mary Margaret doesn’t have to get up.

“Perfect. You know, in another life you could’ve been a party planner,” the other woman remarks, and Emma chuckles under her breath.

In another life, that’s what she wanted to do. But somehow, she found her niche in bail bonds, instead, enjoying the hunt a little more than she thought she would. Sure, it takes her away from home sometimes. She’s a member of multiple hotel preferred programs and top tier in all of them at this point.

There’s something about the chase that’s always thrilled her. It’s something new and exciting at every turn, and there’s something extra satisfying about catching people that otherwise thought they could slip away unnoticed from their bad deeds.

But thanks to her passion for details specifically at social gatherings, Emma easily plays co-host and makes sure to circulate once the guests start arriving.

She’s in the office hanging up Ruby’s coat when she turns and runs directly into someone. Someone that smells far too familiar, who feels familiar against where her hands are braced on his chest. Her stomach clenches for multiple reasons and she thinks about running, but something compels her to look up, to meet his eyes.

“Swan,” he whispers. His hand is on her waist from when they collided, and she can feel the warmth of his skin, longs for the way that hand has touched her with casual intimacy for so many years now.

“Killian.” Her voice is hoarse all of a sudden, and she swallows in order to continue, to say anything to him, to ask him why. “I can’t… I can’t do this,” she says instead, breaking away and exiting the room as quickly as she can.

-x-

He knew it wouldn’t be easy seeing her again, and had all hopes that he wouldn’t be met with hostility or hatred. Her sad confusion, however, may hurt even more. He doesn’t know how they ended up like this. He still replays last year over and over searching for the details that may unlock her radio silence for a whole bloody year but with how that night played out, he can only assume that what happened was a mistake to her.

Emma is still the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. No matter where she goes throughout the party, he can catch sight of her glowing and schmoozing. She’s a delight, a natural-born socialite without the reputation of one.

Multiple times, he finds her near. He doesn’t move when he notices her, too terrified of scaring her off. But sooner or later she realizes he’s close and swiftly finds herself a new task to attend to, thus leaving him lurking and definitely sulking in a corner.

Halfway through the event, he can’t take it anymore. It’s impossible being in proximity with Emma and not being able to talk to her and interact with her as he used to. Right after the party last year, he got called back to England. His brother, still living in London, had called to alert him of his father’s passing. The next year was an endless battle of selling off the old man’s house and possessions, and also celebrating the birth of Liam’s first child.

Since he was only able to come back for brief moments, Will had sublet his room in their apartment and Killian would stay at Granny’s when he would come back.

He was in town for Emma’s birthday, but he never saw her, never managed to text her, never heard from her…

Tonight? It’s obvious that what’s between them will never be fixed. Along with that, he fears his heart may never mend.

Christmas Party 2018

Emma was right - the finished basement is even better than she could’ve imagined. The difference between sitting down here this time and the first time is that she and Killian aren’t stuck. They’re just hiding out for a bit to escape the party. Around them are the remnants of a bottle of rum, a plate of cookies and chocolates, and way more cheesy potatoes than she meant to steal but she panicked.

“So what are we doing for New Years?” Emma asks as she leans back against the wall behind the bar. Now that the door to the upstairs doesn’t lock, they’ve taken to literally hiding from anyone that might find them. The bar is tall enough that someone would have to come around or lean over it to actually see them which works perfectly fine for her.

“Whatever your heart desires, love. As long as I get my cheeky kiss at midnight, you know I’m a happy man.”

She smiles, thinking of the previous year’s “cheeky kiss” which was truly a kiss on his cheek. There was no one she wanted to kiss at midnight, and Killian was standing next to her. And she couldn’t very well imagine another year without a New Years kiss so she grabbed his face and planted a bright red lipstick mark on his cheek above his beard. He’d worn that kiss the rest of the night.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll get your kiss,” she remarks, turning to do it again but doesn’t anticipate that he’s turning towards her as well, and instead kisses him directly on the lips.

It was probably out of surprise that they sat there for a few seconds like that, lips pressed together. And then he kisses her back. He tastes like rum and chocolate as his tongue slips out to taste her lips, and she can’t help but sigh into the kiss.

His lips feel like she always imagined they would. She’s been curious in the past but what they have is far too precious for her to mess up with sex, so she never made a move. But there have been lonely nights where she pretended that their snuggling during movies was more than platonic, that holding his hand was something real. She’s woken up to his arm around her more times than she can count but the dream always fades by the time he opens his eyes and brings her back to reality.

This, however, is unearthing every desire and wish she’d ever had for what the two of them could become. This is giving her a vivid picture of snowed-in nights and lazy Sunday mornings. Of interrupting Killian’s work at his little desk in the corner of his room to climb into his lap and do her best to distract him. Of making him breakfast at the loft and giving up in order to be pulled into his embrace and tightly held against him.

As if he can hear her thoughts and is making up for lost time, she feels Killian’s hand snake around her waist to pull her closer, until her legs are thrown over his lap and they’re as close as they can be without her straddling him. The food around them is forgotten; the bottle of rum - thankfully capped - knocked over in their haste.

It’s right when their hands start decidedly less innocent wandering that Emma thinks that they should maybe slow down, especially since they’re still in the basement and the party's still going on above their heads.

“Wait,” she says, her voice husky as her hand caresses his cheek. He pulls back, as if startled to find that it was her he was making out with the whole time. If she had to label the expression on his face, it would have to be named Panic, and she starts to wonder why that might be.

“There you are! What are you two doing down here?” David’s voice from over the bar startles them out of the moment entirely.

Killian scrambles to stand up. “Not a thing, mate. Enjoying your sister’s favorite dish in some peace and quiet.” He at least has the decency to hold out a hand to help her up, but when she’s on her feet he already feels like he’s a million miles away.

“Emma? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says, forcing a smile and extracting her hand out of Killian’s and moving around the bar. “Need help with anything?”

David starts talking about wine and crackers and Emma moves on autopilot behind him, walking away from Killian and feeling her heart ice over as she does.

Nothing. It meant nothing to him, she thinks as they climb the stairs and move back to the party. So that’s what she would treat it as.

She doesn’t turn back to see Killian still bracing himself on the bar, his expression conflicted and longing.

Two days later, before she could figure out if things were going to go back to normal, she finds out Killian is gone. His few belongings are in the apartment storage and Will is subletting his room. She had dodged all his calls, but the fact that he left without a goodbye was telling enough.

And just like that, her best friendship and her heart were broken in the same instance.

Christmas Party 2019

He’s not even sure how long he’s been hidden away in the basement, only that he has no desire to make his way back to the party. Surely, there must be a way for him to sneak out without anyone noticing. It was a mistake to attend tonight.

With intent to do just that, to skulk out without catching attention, Killian moves to stand but promptly halts when he hears footsteps coming down the stairs. He pushes himself closer to the bar to hide in the shadows, willing the intruder to leave as quickly as possible.

He keeps his head tucked down to avoid being noticed, so imagine his surprise when it’s Emma’s voice that reaches his ears.

“Just had to go and take our hiding spot,” she says quietly, and he lifts his head to see her standing at the opening of the bar, a plate of cookies in one hand, a bowl of cheesy potatoes in the other, and a beer tucked beneath her arm.

She walks a little closer, stopping at the end of the bar and placing down her bounty before sliding onto the last barstool.

Taking it as a cue that she’s not going to run from him, Killian stands and rummages in the small fridge for a beer of his own.

“Not running this time?” He asks as he cracks it open.

“I’m too tired,” she says, propping her head up with the hand not picking at the cookies.

He takes a step closer, grabbing her bottle and popping off the cap.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, and hesitates just a moment more before she’s pushing her plate of cookies towards him.

They’re silent for a moment, the music just barely reaching their seclusion.

“You look beautiful tonight, Swan.”

There’s a hint of a smile, but she only dips her head in gratitude as she continues to graze.

“Listen, love. I still don’t know what’s happened between us, but I have been bloody miserable without you this last year. You add color to my life. Without you it’s been… so grey. So underwhelming. I miss you. Please - I’ll do whatever’s in my power to make things right again, but please let us be friends, at the very least.”

“I’m not nothing,” she responds after another moment. She’s looking him directly in the eyes this time and he sees a world of hurt and sadness there.

“What?”

“I’m not nothing. Never was. Never will be.”

“Of course you’re not nothing. Why would…”

And then he realizes it. Realizes exactly what he said at a most critical time between them.

“Oh, fuck me,” he mutters, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “Emma, that’s not what I meant. You most definitely aren’t nothing. You’re everything. You were - still are! - my everything.”

“Then why did you get so defensive with David?”

“I didn’t want to scare you. I’d finally had you in my arms where I wanted you. I didn’t want you running off.” He winces, giving her a sheepish look. “Which you did anyway, but I promise, love. You misunderstood. I wanted you to have time to process. I didn’t want your brother in our business so soon after that moment.”

“Why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you try calling me?”

“I did. Before I left. I wanted nothing more than to see you before I went to London. So when you ignored my calls, I figured it was best to leave it at that. It’s why I stayed away so long.”

“I thought you thought it was a mistake. That kissing me was a mistake,” she admits.

“That kiss was the best bloody idea either of us ever had. It’s everything that came after that should’ve never happened.”

-x-

Hearing Killian admit that kissing her was definitely not a mistake goes a long way in healing Emma’s heart. It’s what helps her ease off the stool and move closer to where he’s standing until she’s right in front of him.

“Not a mistake?”

“No,” he answers promptly.

“Neither of us will be running?”

“Nope.”

“Good,” Emma says, closing the final inches between them and kissing him softly.

At the wrecked noise he makes, she’s lost to it all. What starts as a soft, simple kiss quickly turns heady. Her hands end up along his face and into his hair while his hand is on her lower back, urging her closer.

“Did you drive?” Emma asks, her hand dropping down to his tie.

“Aye. And other than this beer I haven’t been drinking.”

“To my place?”

He doesn’t respond with words, instead bending to kiss her again before they come up with their plan to escape.

In the morning, Emma wakes up to Killian’s arm wrapped around her and everything finally feels like it’s back in place.

Christmas 2020

For the first time since Emma has lived in Storybrooke, the Nolan Christmas Party is cancelled.

Instead, everyone boots up their computers or phones, opting for facetime celebrations instead of in-person ones.

Cooped up in her tiny loft, Emma is just fine with this. A nice little spread of finger foods and cookies is on the coffee table, and Killian collapses next to her, already in his pajamas as she starts the call to David and Mary Margaret.

“Merry Christmas!” the other couple greets while baby Leo babbles happily in David’s lap.

“Happy Christmas,” Killian greets while Emma gives her own sentiments. She snuggles into his side as the call continues, feeling like she’s right where she’s meant to be.

And this time there’s no basement involved.

#cs fanfic #captain swan ff #cs ff au #cs secret santa 2020 #sarah writes ff

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silence-burns · 4 years

Text

Long Live the Journey //part 3

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Summary: There are days that go well. And there are also days when a Mandalorian comes knocking on your door with trouble clutched in his arms.

You were awake by the time Mando's heavy boots thumped on the short ladder between decks.

Not to say you couldn't sleep well - the ship was old and loud, but you'd been in worse places. The cramped sleeping cabin looked the same as you remembered it from the few missions you ran with Mando over the years.

You watched him step down from the ladder, the child and its bug toy in his arms.

"Has it been 8 hours?" you asked, not moving.

"10. There was no reason to wake you up."

"Did you have fun with that green goblin?"

Mando watched the child walk to the water pods the moment he set it down. The bug was left forgotten by Mando's boots. After a moment of hesitation, he put it into a cradle hovering by the wall.

"Yes."

It had always been difficult to figure out most of his emotions. Anger was easy, and so was sadness. But whatever was filling him lately was new, and you still hadn't learnt what it was.

Mando never held anything against children whenever they approached him on new planets, but neither did he seek them out. Watching Mando now, with a wrinkled whatever-it-was, patient and maybe even caring in his own way was… refreshing.

"You've changed."

Mando nodded after a moment. He took off his gloves and worked on his breastplate. "I know what you're thinking. I didn't expect any of this to happen either."

"And yet you roll with it. You don't even know where to go, but you're willing to cross the galaxy for that frog."

"Children separated from their homes deserve to find them again."

You watched him put a few of the Beskar plates down. Mandalorians rarely allowed themselves to do so in the presence of others, or at least that's what you gathered from the whispered rumors about their people. Mando had never been too talkative about the customs.

Sitting up, you moved to the edge of the bed. It was his turn to sleep, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave just yet.

Mando leaned next to you.

"I'm glad you're not dead," you admitted at last. "I’d heard about the butchering of your Tribe. Wondered whether you made it out."

"I've been lucky, in more than one way."

The memories flooded his mind, and for a moment he could still hear the ringing of the blasters flying overhead, of shouts and curses as the Guild tried to take him down.

The warmth of your hand in his brought him back to reality. But before he could say anything, you left him in the cabin and moved to the upper deck.

The child patted his foot. Mando didn't notice it coming.

"I know," was all he said.

"I hate you."

"I know," was all Mando said half a day and a mild crash later.

"I should've kept to the other side of the galaxy," you muttered through chattering teeth. Your breath came out in clouds of white in the freezing air.

The cabin was the only decent place left. The ship was now half buried in an iceberg that had oddly eluded the radar sensors. And even though he kept a calm facade, Mando fuming internally, trying to fix the ship the best he could. He managed to get the system going again, but the huge hole in the side of the ship prevented the temperature from leveling back to normal. The wind howled wildly, dusting white patches of snow throughout the desolate planet, and even Mando couldn't fight the shivers running down his back. He took all you'd need through the night from the lower deck and rushed back into the cabin.

He opened and closed the door as fast as he could, but you still hissed when a new surge of freezing air came in with him.

"Sorry."

"How bad is it?"

"The water's frozen solid, so I didn't bring any. I got some blankets and food and it'll have to be enough until morning. The sun will blast most of the snow out and we'll be able to move."

Mando turned to the crib hovering between the seats, but found it empty. A moment of panic blinded him—

"It's here."

Only then Mando noticed the bundle cradled in your arms, hidden under your jacket. The tip of a long green ear was the only part peeking out.

"I thought you didn't like the child."

"Doesn't mean I'll watch it die."

Mando put down the solid rations.

"I brought blankets," he said into the silence, disturbed only by the howling wind and his racing heart.

He wasn't sure why it suddenly got harder to breathe when he crossed the claustrophobic space of the cabin and tucked the blanket over you. Your hands were holding the child, so it was only right for Mando to take care of it.

He'd been close to you before. This shouldn't be any different.

And yet, his hands shook slightly when he made sure you would stay warm through the night. He felt the memory of your hand in his. The brush of skin.

Mando was very glad for his helmet to conceal his face.

"How far away is your friend?" you asked quietly. The child dozed off, curled on your chest.

"Shouldn't take us longer than 2 hours on foot. We'll get a new generator in the village too. Maybe even something to patch up that hole, if we're lucky."

For a minute, the two of you only stared at the storm raging outside. Frost was already climbing its way over the windshield.

"Good night, Mando. If I freeze to death in my sleep, I'll haunt your ship."

"I thought you hated my ship."

"Your radar died two stars ago, you've got a hole blown to one side and some incredibly shoddy patching in the other one. This is a perfect place for a ghost."

Mando nodded. "I can see your point. Good night."

The wind howled through the snowy peaks of ice and stone. The ship swayed gently in the relentless storm.

It didn't take long for the soft sounds of your breath to turn deeper as you fell asleep. The tip of a long green ear didn't move.

Mando took off his helmet and unpacked one of the rations. His heart hammered, making it pretty obvious no sleep would visit him in the near future, and only partly because of the threat posed by wild fauna of the planet taking interest in the ship.

#long live the journey #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin imagine

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spacedaddymando · 4 years

Text

All Heart and Beskar : Chapter 3

Synopsis: A bounty hunter turned bounty, you find yourself as the assistant to one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy, and his little green child with big ears.

A/N: As always let me know what you think! Its a cute one. Kinda...

Warnings : 18+. Violence, injury description. Nothing too serious but just be aware.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

AO3 Link

(Please be aware, the links are a little bit jumbled! I will change them ASAP but in the meantime you can search #all heart and beskar to get all the chapters!)

[4k words] Chapter 3 - Rescue Me

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes were two big eyeballs staring back at you. You recoiled in surprise, pain shooting through your body.

“Ahhhrghh.” You let out a cry. The little creature in front of you coo’d softly. You blinked a few times, trying to reorganise your thoughts. You didn’t have much time to think, before a movement by your feet caught your attention. Cold air swirled around you as you were met with the face of a very scary looking helmet. You screamed again.

“Hey! Hey! It's okay!” The man grabbed your legs, trying to get you to stop moving. You stopped for a second, desperately trying to understand what was going on. All you could feel is pain. “You need to stop moving.” His voice was soothing, and you relaxed a bit. “Do you know where you are?”

You tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, pain wracking your body. You fell back with a cry. You shook your head. You didn’t know, and you were scared.

“Do you know how I am?” You shook your head again, and the man hung his helmeted head. You heard him let out an exhale, and the small creature next to you, let out a small cry.

“I’m sorry…” you started to say before the man shushed you. Panic was snaking its way up your spine. You were injured, in pain, and somewhere you didn’t know.

“No it's okay. You had a fall, I rescued you.” His voice was gentle, and he rubbed small circles with his thumb over your knee.

“Oh… thank you.” You weren’t sure what else to say. The gentle caress of his thumb was nice, but you still felt on edge.

“Do you know who you are?” You nodded and told him your name. He hummed in agreement. “And what is the last thing you remember?”

You thought back, digging around in your memory. It all seemed really hazy, like you were watching a dream of someone else’s life. You saw the helmet of the man in front of you in the streets on Canto Bight, a blaster shot and you killed someone, and then fire. You swallowed, tears pricking your eyes when you recalled the memory of your ship burning to the ground.

“I...ugh….I remember my ship….burning.” Your voice was thick, and you were trying really hard not to cry. “I remember you. But I don’t remember you?” The man nodded, his thumb stopped stroking circles and instead he gave your knee a soft squeeze.

“Anything else?” You sat for a moment, lost in thought. You sort of remember being cold, and lots of snow.

“Ice. And being cold.” The man just nodded.

“How are you feeling?”

“Really sore.” Your whole body ached, every inch of it was stiff and sore. You felt like one solid bruise. Your rib cage was in the most pain, and so was one of your legs. You shifted the blanket to look. A nasty red welt streaked across your thigh. You winced at the sight of it. The skin was blistered and weeping. “What happened?”

“A blaster shot.”

“How?” You don’t understand.

“It’s a long story.” The visor never left your face, and you felt small under its unfaltering stare. “You’re safe now.”

You didn’t say anything. Your brain was desperately trying to fit together all the pieces. You felt a tear run down your face. The little green creature gurgled at you and held out his tiny hands. He crawled towards you and you flinched away, not understanding. He let out a soft cry and tears welled up in his eyes. The man reached in to pick him up. The man turned back to you. “Get some rest, I’ll wake you when we land.”

You nodded, and turned your eyes back to the ceiling. Your body was in so much pain. Tears rolled down your cheeks, splashing onto the bed sheet beneath you. You let out a shaky breath and squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself back to sleep to avoid the pain.

When you woke you were not where you fell asleep. The walls around you were stone, and the bed beneath you was a lot comfier than the one you had fallen asleep in. The room was bathed in the soft, flickering light from a fire. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows. You braced yourself, expecting pain but there was none. Huh.

You sit up carefully, and look around the room. It was small, with low ceilings. Other than the fire you couldn’t see any other source of light. It's very quiet. Other than the fire crackling, you can’t hear anything else. A small tendril of fear begins to wind its way into your mind. You’re alone, and somewhere you don’t know.

You slump back against the pillows and burrow back down into the warm furs. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to remember what happened. You can’t remember much other than talking to...Mando.

Your eyes spring open, and you call out for him. Your voice is rough from lack of use, and your throat is dry. Still your croaky voice carries out around the room. The door on the wall opposite you creaks open, and an unfamiliar woman appears, head peering into the room.

“You’re awake!”

“Where's Mando?” The woman didn’t respond as she entered the room and walked over to you. She tugged the fur off your body and you glanced down. You weren’t wearing anything, save for some panties. You tried to protest and pull the covers back over you, but her strong hand pushed you back down onto the bed.

“Stop. I need to check your leg.” Her voice was gruff, but gentle. She placed her hand on your leg, above a long red scar. “It's healing well. Do you want to see him?”

You assumed ‘him’ meant Mando so you nodded. The lady pulled the covers back over you and walked out of the room, the door creaking shut behind her. You tugged the cover away again to look at your leg yourself. The scar was long and jagged, the skin still puffy from healing. You touched it gently, waiting for pain but none came. You flicked the covers back over you and settled back into the bed.

A knock sounded on the door, and you turned to see the familiar silver grey armor enter the room. A small cry sounded from his arms, and you could see the kid reaching out towards you. You smiled softly at the pair of them.

The man made no movement to come further inside the door. “You can come in.” You patted the bed next to you, he walked in, a huge behemoth of a man in the small room. He stopped next to your bed.

“Cyar’ika.” The word was soft and breathy, even through the helmet. You gaze up at him. He ducked down to kneel on the floor next to the bed.

“Hi.” Your voice is quiet, and you watch his hand come up to stroke your face.

“I thought I lost you.” You lean into his hand, the rough leather pressed against your cheek. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Sort of? It's all very blurry though.” You close your eyes, desperately trying to remember the night's events. When you opened them again, Mando was still watching you. “Where are we?”

“Nevarro.”

“Where?”

“Not important. You’re safe.” You nod. The kid makes an impatient whine at being ignored for the past few moments. You open your arms to him, and Mando lets him crawl over you for a cuddle. You nuzzle his furry head, and clutch him to your chest.

“Hey little one.” The kid purred happily in your arms.

Mando brushes the hair from your face. “ How are you feeling?”

“A lot better than I thought I would.”

Mando hums in approval, his hand still cradling the side of your head. You lean into his palm, closing your eyes. He caresses your cheek with his thumb. When you opened your eyes his visor was still fixed intently on your face.

“Did you catch him?” Mando shook his head. “Shit.”

“He wasn’t part of the group that attacked. He must have fled during the ambush.”

“Do you know where he is?”

Mando didn’t get to answer as the woman reappeared carrying a steaming bowl of stew. She placed it carefully on the bedside table next to you, glancing over to Mando and the small green creature curled up on your chest. All she said was, ‘Eat.” And then she left again.

The kid's nose started twitching as he smelt the food, stirring him out of his nap. His big eyes landed on the bowl before staring up at you expectantly. Mando reached out to grab him. ‘Come here you little womp-rat. It's not for you.” You chuckled as he plucked him off your chest. You shifted so you were sitting more upright in the bed, before picking up the warm bowl. It smelt delicious, with large chunks of meat floating in a hearty stew.

Your stomach growled in anticipation, and you started to eat. Mando watched you quietly, holding onto the kid. When you’d eaten as much as you could, you began to shred pieces of the meat up and passed them to the kid who wolfed them down. “Have you not fed him?”

“Of course I fed him.” Came Mandos indignant reply. “He’s just never full.”

You smile at him. “I was joking.” Mando just dipped his head to watch the kid chew the meat. “What’s our next move?”

“You’re not doing anything. You need to rest.”

“I’m fine!”

“You fell off a cliff.”

“And survived!” Your eyes flickered over the visor, trying to distinguish where his eyes could be. “I’m okay.”

Mando sighed, the noise rippling through the vocoder. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I...we nearly lost you. Just rest for a bit okay?” His voice was small through the helmet.

“But...” Mando stood up, picking the kid up with him.

“No buts. You rest.” His tone was harsh. You stiffened at the contrast in comparison to what he just said. You opened your mouth to argue but he’d already walked out of the room, leaving you on your own again.

You ended up spending another few days stuck in the bed. The woman introduced herself as Rhea, although she didn’t really say much else to you. She appeared every few hours with food, medicine, or to help you stagger to the bathroom. You didn’t see Mando very much, occasionally he’d pop his head in or leave the kid with you. The last part of your conversation had left a sour note on your relationship and you didn’t understand why. You’d tried to talk to him each time he came in but he didn’t respond. His guard was back up and he barely spoke to you, other than to ask how you were feeling.

After a couple more days you asked Rhea if you could shower. As up until then, Rhea had just left a basin of water and some washcloths for you to clean yourself with. You’d asked previously but she’d motioned towards your leg as an answer. It had easily been 2 weeks since the accident and your hair felt disgusting. She agreed and came back with a towel and some clean clothes.

The water was hot as you stepped under the spray. The scar on your leg stung a little bit from the heat but it felt good to be properly clean. You spent a long time standing in the shower, washing and conditioning your hair. When you stepped out your skin was flushed, steam rising from your body in the cool air. Gently drying yourself, you got changed into the clean clothes and padded back to your room.

You settled back on the bed and Rhea came back in to put more bacta gel on your leg. You watched her work.

“How did I survive?” She turned her face towards you, her dark eyes fixed on your face.

“Bacta injection.” She chuckled. It was the most she’d ever said to you. “Works wonders.” She smirked before turning away and leaving you in silence.

It wasn’t long before Mando burst back in the room, dropping the child on the bed. He turned quickly, spinning on his heel. ‘Mando?” He froze, but didn’t turn round. “Where are you going?”

“Business.” And he left. The kid just sat wide eyed, staring at you.

“Guess it's just you and me.” His ears pricked up. “At least you want to see me.”

Mando had been gone for 2 days. The kid stayed with you, sharing your meals, and snoozing in your arms. You weren’t allowed out of your room, unless to use the bathroom and it was driving you crazy. You didn’t want to upset your host so you never pushed it but maker were you bored.

You were sitting in bed, imagining what you’d say to Mando on his return when the door crashed open. Instantly you grabbed the kid, as Rhea burst in the room. Her eyes were wild, and she clutched some clothes to her chest.

“Get dressed. You need to leave.” She thrust the clothes into your hands.

“What?” You pulled on the trousers, and tugged the jumper over your head.

“You need to go!”

“Why?” Rhea’s voice was panicked, and it was scarring the kid. She didn’t say anything as she ushered you out of the room, and down the dark hallway. The stone floor was cold against your feet and it dawned on you that you had no shoes on.

“Rhea? I need shoes…” she ignored you and carried on marching down the hall.

She stopped at a heavy wooden door. “You need to run. Get out of the city and as far away as you can.”

“What why?” Rhea didn’t answer, instead she threw open the door and shoved you out onto the street. You stumbled out, clutching the kid to your chest. You turned to ask her what was happening but the door was already shut.

You glanced around. It was night, the air was warm and the moons cast a silvery light over the street. You stood for a second, listening.

Faint blaster fire could be heard, ringing out through the city. Fear crawled its way up your spine. The street around you was empty, but you didn’t recognize where you were. Nevarro always looked different at night.

You could hear the blaster fire getting closer. Get out of the city. Rhea’s words echoed around your head and you started to walk down the street, keeping close to the walls. The sharp stones on the ground cut and pinched the soles of your feet. You cursed softly.

Shouts and screams could be heard ringing out across the city, bouncing off the walls. What’s happening? You began to run, sprinting through the streets, heading to where you thought the edge of town was. Your feet slapped against the ground, and the kid gripped your shirt tightly. Where’s Mando?

The edge of the town was just in front of you when a blaster shot rang out behind you, glancing off the ground next to you. You swore. You sprinted out of the town, onto the lava plains of Nevarro.

The ground was hot beneath your feet as you ran away from the town. The ground cracked and groaned around you as hot lava spilled erupted out. The kid was crying now, small little wails drifted across the barren land.

“Shhhh shh it’s okay.” You hushed him, slowing down to a walk. You scanned the area, but it was too dark to see if anyone was following. You swallowed, the coil of fear that had started back with Rhea was now full blown terror at the idea of navigating Nevarro at night.

You looked skyward, through the haze towards the stars above. You could only see a few, shining against the pitch black sky. Where the fuck is Mando? You carried on walking, feet sore from the hot ground, trying to find shelter. Mando would find you. He could find anyone.

A screech overhead made your blood run cold. Looking up you could just make out the shape of a huge winged creature circling overhead. A reptavian. You were frozen in place as the creature circled above you. A small whimper from the kid brought you back to your senses and you ran. You knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun it, but a small part of you hoped….prayed… that you’d be able to find shelter.

Your lungs burned as you ran, each intake of breath stung your dry throat. You couldn’t see the ground in front of you as you stumbled through the lava fields, dodging erupting magma. The kid was clinging onto you, tiny claws digging into your skin.

The reptavian flew above you, leisurely stalking you as you ran. You knew there was nowhere to hide from it, not on the lava fields.

You tripped. Slamming into the ground, the kid flying from your grasp. You groaned, rolling onto your hands and knees. You felt around trying to find the kid, you could hear him crying beside you.

Gusts of wind blew across your face as the reptavian landed, flapping its large wings. It roared towards you, the faint light of the lava illuminating its fangs and beady eyes. You scrambled around trying to find the kid. You couldn’t see him or feel him. You screamed into the dark trying to get him to come closer. The reptavian stalked closer, hissing and screeching at you. You crawled on the floor trying to find the kid. You could hear the reptavians claws scraping against the ground, getting closer. It roared loudly just behind you, and you cower into the ground waiting for the final fatal blow.... but it never came.

You looked over your shoulder, the reptavian was frozen. A faint blue-grey light rippled around you. Protecting you. You looked for the source of the light and your eyes landed on the kid. His little arms were stretched out, his large eyes squeezed shut.

A loud bang rang through the air, and the reptavian crumpled on the ground. You could hear the sound of an engine rumbling overhead. You crawled over to the kid, catching him as he fell backwards. A bright light lit the area up and you shielded your eyes against the glare.

The ship started to land, the noise of the engine was deafening. The wind whipped up dust and you curled in on yourself to protect the child. The ship landed with a groan, and you could hear the all too familiar grinding noise of a ramp being lowered. Mando.

You stood up, and rushed towards the ramp, falling into the arms of Mando as he reached the bottom.

“Are you okay?” His hands ran over your face and arms, checking you for injuries.

“The kid….” You croaked out, voice hoarse from running. Mando looked down at the sleeping child in your arms. “...he did something. He stopped the…”

“Yeah I know.” Mando took the kid in his arms, and you followed him up the ramp. Mando placed him in the sling in the cot and turned back to you. “Stay there. I’ll get us in the air and then come back.”

Mando ran up to the cockpit and you slid down the wall of the hull, dropping heavily onto the floor. You could feel the rumble of the thrusters starting up, and the lurching off the ship as it took off. The lights flickered in the hull as the ship climbed higher through the atmosphere.

You glanced down at your feet. They were dirty and covered with small cuts and burns. They hurt. You stayed on the floor until you heard Mandos feet on the ladder rungs and you pulled yourself up, standing gingerly on your ruined feet.

He stepped off the ladder, stopping to press a button on his vambrace. The lights switched off, plunging the hull into darkness.

“M..Mando?”

“Can you see me?” Maker you can’t see anything.

“No…”

You could hear him walking towards you, you stretched your arm out trying to find him in the dark. “Close your eyes.”

You did. Not that there was much point, you could see exactly the same amount with your eyes shut as you could with them open. “They’re closed.” You whisper into the dark.

You heard a soft click, and the sound of air escaping coming from just in front of you. You reached out again. “Mando….?”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you to him, crushing you to his chest. You shivered, the icy beskar pressed to your skin. “I’m right here, cyar’ika.” His voice is different, it’s richer, and the normal robotic tinge from the vocoder is gone. It only takes you a second to realise his helmet is off.

His hand trails up your arm, over your shoulder and round the back of your neck. He tips your head up, and crashes his lips onto yours.

You melt into his arms, running your hands up the beskar chest plate and onto the rough cowl of his cape, pulling him closer. You hear the clang of his helmet dropping to the floor as he cups your face in both of his hands.

You pull back slightly to catch your breath, and Mando bumps his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry.” Mando began, “I should never have left...I just…”

You kiss him softly, cutting him off. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. I nearly lost you again.” He sighs deeply. “I nearly lost both of you.”

“Mando…”

“Din.”

“What?”

“My name is Din Djarin. Not Mando.” You huff out a laugh.

“I figured your name wasn’t Mando, you idiot.”

Din chuckles, and you smile back at him. Not that he can see you in the dark. “One thing, you cannot tell anyone and don’t use it outside of the ship.”

“That’s two things.”

“Don’t be cheeky.”

A stabbing pain in your feet brought you back to the present. “M-an...Din my feet…”

Din drops his hands. “Shit, hang on.” He scoops you up and carries you over to the cot. He carefully lowers you down before turning back to the hull to get his helmet. He flicks the light on and you blink in the bright light.

He came back with a tub of bacta and a washcloth. He cleaned your feet gently, before smothering them in bacta. You hissed and wriggled on the cot.

“Stings…” you mumble.

“I know.” He drops the bacta on the ground. “

Once he was finished you flopped back into the cot, and Din passed you a blanket. “I need to set the ship's navigation but I’ll be down in a bit. Try to sleep okay?”

You just yawn in response. Din squeezes your calf and disappears into the hull, switching the lights off, as his footsteps disappear up the ladder to the cockpit.

You don’t hear him come back down, or pull a crate up to the end of the cot. You don’t see him take off his helmet, his hand tracing patterns on your exposed calf. His eyes study your features, as if he’s trying to memorise them. He curses himself for leaving you and the kid. Din watched you sleep, the steady rise and fall of your chest grounding him to the present. His eyes started to droop, and before he knew it he was asleep, propped up against the wall of the cot.

At some point during the night you woke up, peering around the dimly cot you eyes come to rest on a figure at the end of the bed. You can’t see much, expect for a few dark brown curls and a sliver of skin. You freeze. Din. He wasn’t wearing a helmet... You shut your eyes again, heart pounding. You know how sacred his creed was to him, you could feel yourself getting more panicked. You didn’t really see anything though...just hair and skin. There was nothing you could do now, you hadn’t meant to look, it was an accident. He’d understand.

You figured you’d tell him when you woke up, but he was gone. A small voice reasoned that you hadn’t really seen that much, and besides it wasn’t worth stressing him out about it. A small seed of guilt taking root in your mind as you buried the image of his curls. You’ll tell him one day.

#all heart and beskar #mando x reader #Mando x you #mando x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian smut #mando smut #din djarin #din djarin x reader

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hongism · 4 years

Text

mists of celeste ➻ four

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 4.1k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒

mists of celeste act one ➻ part four

The air around you is stiff and unmoving, cold as ice yet you don't feel goosebumps rising across your skin. A dark night sky looms above you with its scattering of bright stars. Near the center of the indigo sea lies a brilliant red moon; bright in it's blinding color. Something about the scene is familiar, the clearness of the sky reminds you of something from your past. No clouds, no breeze, no sounds of nightlife.

It's a sense of complete and utter peace. Something damp seeps through your clothing, touching your skin and leaving you cold. You sit up and press your palms to the ground below you. Instead of meeting solid ground, however, you're met by water. It splashes against your bare legs, and you withdraw your hands from the surface in an instant.

Water?

You bring your chin up, glancing across your surroundings. It's a lake, a shallow one yes, considering that your legs aren't fully submerged and you seem to be placed in the middle of it. A chill runs down your spine. You know exactly where you are. The water beneath you runs black, and the enormous moon hanging in the sky is only present on one planet. It's only then, when you discern where you are, that you realize you're in a dream and not reality. You push yourself to your feet, nearly slipping on the slick mud beneath the layer of black water. With a quick glance down at your body, you see that a thin white garb clings to your skin. It's something you would never wear willingly, and seeing as there's an old man perched at the opposite side of the lake, you know that he must be in control of this realm.

You wade through the water in the direction of the man. As you get closer, his features become more clear under the vibrant red moonlight. A familiar face to go along with the familiar scenery. He prods at the pebbles along the shore of the lake with a crooked stick, paying you no attention even as you splash water across the rocks with your steps.

"It's been a while since I've seen you, old man," you greet, soft tone carrying through the air with ease in the absence of a breeze. The rugged form before you doesn't move. He continues to prod at the stones near your feet and pushes black water against your ankles. You wait a moment in the hopes that he'll look up at you and respond, but he still acts as though you don't exist.

"Daichi," you try again in attempts to garner his attention. It works this time.

His chin snaps up, a wrinkled face becoming clear before you, and blue eyes stare into yours. Piercing and cold, just as you remember from your last encounter with the aged man.

"Ah, Umiko." His wrinkled lips stretch into a smile, unveiling yellowed teeth that are only accentuated by the moonlight above your heads.

"That's not my name," you refute. Daichi continues speaking as though you didn’t say a word, eyes falling together as he smiles without cease.

“It’s been quite a whi–”

“I said that’s not my name,” you repeat with a bit more venom creeping into your tone. “It hasn’t been for a very long time.”

“Hmm.” He hums, looking up at you with those perceptive eyes. You can almost see your reflection in them, between the clear blueness and the gleam of the moonlight coming down on them. “Do you remember what it means?”

“Child of the sea,” you answer without hesitation, the words ingrained in your brain after hearing the phrase repeated over and over.

“Child of the sea. I wonder if your new name is as fitting for you? Y/N, is it?”

“It’s far more fitting than Umiko ever was,” you mutter in response, turning your head away from the old man.

“Have you done well, child?”

“As well as I could, and things are as good as they can be given the… situation,” you respond with a flatness to your tone that Daichi mimics with his next words.

“You’re not safe where you are now.”

“Here I thought you didn’t give two shits about my well being.”

“Umiko, listen to me. This is ser–”

“Stop calling me that and maybe I’ll listen!” Your voice booms throughout the clearing. The black water under your feet seems to quiver as you speak. Daichi’s eyes flit down to the ripples across the lake, then back up to you.

“Someone near you is a dangerous threat, one that you’ve never encountered before. You must be careful. Guard yourself wisely.”

“Worry about yourself, old man,” you reply, tone falling back quiet once again. “Besides, it’s pointless for the dead to worry about the living.

“You’re always so sure of yourself, aren’t you? So confident that everything will work out your way? Tell me, Umiko, did things work out your way on Eros the first time you were there? The second? The third?” Daichi pushes himself to his feet. He towers over you as his back straightens, the age seems to ebb away from his body as he moves closer to you. You tilt your head back to get a better look at the man. In his eyes lies disdain. It’s not the first time you’ve seen the emotion from the man. “I said tell me, Umiko?”

“And I said to stop calling me that.” You take a shaky step back, foot nearly catching on the slide of the mud again, but you manage to steady yourself before falling.

“A Siren is nearby, Y/N. You must be careful. He could invade your dream space at any minute. Don’t you realize that? This haven, this paradise, this dream so close to your heart is vulnerable. Guard yourself against him.”

“I don’t need your advice anymore, old man. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m an adult now and old enough to make my own decisions and give myself advice.” You spin on your heel, toes digging into the mud as you move, and face the opposite direction. Blinking down at the swirling waters under you, you take a deep breath before sharing your final words with Daichi. “There are no Sirens left. All they are is a myth, one that needs to die like every other myth in existence.” Your reflection in the water looks back at you, ripples across its face before you kick it away in anger.

Your words earn you no response from the old man behind you, although you weren’t expecting much in the first place. The dream is beginning to fade, darkness swirling into one large mass, but before the serenity around you can disappear entirely, you catch sight of something new. Amongst everything that is familiar and known, this is completely foreign. A new figure, shorter than Daichi for certain, but also bearing dark hair. He stands off at the other side of the lake, near the shore like Daichi had been, but his back is facing you. He bears garbs like yours, white and flowing despite the lack of a breeze.

In all the dreams you’ve had similar to this one, no one other than Daichi has paid you any visits. You know it’s too late for you to investigate now, the dream is dissipating too quickly, but that doesn’t keep you from breaking into a sprint in his direction. Feet splash against the water, bringing it up against your legs. Your running serves no purpose in the long run; before you even near the figure in the distance, your dream fades away and bleeds into white.

You jolt as though shocked, body lurches forward, and you find yourself surrounded by white all the sudden.

“Holy fuck!” The words, surprisingly, don’t fall from your lips. Instead, it’s the kind and gentle doctor from before, standing at your side as you come to again. “You scared the hell out of me!”

You don’t manage to respond, chest heaving as though you’ve just sprinted a mile in your sleep, and all you can do is lay back on the bed slowly.

“Are you alright?” Yunho inquires, one hand coming to rest on your shoulder as you fall back against the bed.

“Y-Yea, yea. I think I was just having a nightmare.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re finally awake now. I was worried I had accidentally put you in a coma or something like that. Your heart rate seems to be awfully low still – well it was before you woke up at least – but it’s not causing any issues. How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, yea. No issues here.” You glance around the room with wide eyes. Things are still a bit hazy seeing as you just woke up, but it’s all clearing up rather quickly. “How long was I out this time?”

“What?” Yunho turns away from you, fiddling a bit with the tablet in his hands. “What do you mean by “this time”? This is the first time you’ve woken up since I conducted the operation.”

“No? That’s not right,” you refute. “I woke up some time ago and tried getting up but… something happened. I think someone stopped me? Someone with dark hair? He used a sedative shot on me.”

“Well over half the crew has dark hair, so you might need to be a bit more specific on that one.” Yunho chuckles at his own comment. When he notices that you aren’t even smiling, he clears his throat and redirects the conversation. “Your vitals were all stable throughout the day. I never noticed anything out of the ordinary, and neither did my assistant. It must have been a dream due to your fever since it didn’t completely break until yesterday.”

“Yesterday being?”

“Yesterday was day 3 of you being unconscious and day 7 aboard the ship.”

“Ah… so why – why did the captain withdraw his time limit?”

“Oh, he was never serious about that!” Yunho laughs again, then sets his tablet down. “I finished operating on you in 17 hours so I guess he was a bit impressed, but he was never going to actually stop me from helping you. He always says things like that but is never serious. Just wary of strangers on his ship, you know?” Yunho glances over at you as he speaks, and you nod in return. He moves closer to the bed, long fingers dancing over your forearm and toying with the catheter sticking out of your skin. “Your vitals are all stable and steady, so that means you’re pretty much good to go. I just need to make sure you’re all functional and such. Routine checks, yea? Same routine I use for every crew member.”

“What do you mean by crew member?” You ask with a slight tilt to your chin.

“Hm? I didn’t say that?”

“I-I – no, I’m pretty sure you di–”

“Let’s get you to your feet.” Yunho disconnects the IV from your catheter, tugging it out gently, then holds you by the forearms as he pulls you up from the bed. “I need you to walk to the end of the room and back, okay?”

“Why exactly?” Your legs feel a bit like jelly when you get up, but staying in the same bed for three days straight probably doesn’t help one bit. “It was my arm that was shot not my leg.” Yunho laughs as though you just made the best joke in the universe.

“That doesn’t matter. This isn’t about seeing if your arm works. I’m quite confident in my abilities as a healer, thank you very much. This is just to test your strength and see if your body matches your mind, not a test of the recovery of your injury. That will come later with Hongjoong and the Lieutenant.”

You relent with a sigh, twisting your arm so that you can grip Yunho's elbow in case you begin to fall, and move forward with hesitant steps. Yunho stays close to you as you walk, thanks in part to the death grip you have on him.

"How are you feeling so far?" He asks after you've taken a few steps.

"Just fine." The steps are coming easy so far but that relief doesn't last long. By the time you reach the midpoint of the room, the muscles in your legs are beginning to feel weak and shaky. Yunho moves with you as you stumble on your next step, his free hand darting out to latch onto your arm and support you further.

A ding and whoosh resound behind you two, and Yunho snaps his head towards the door. You follow suit a moment later. It’s San – the little Cheshire with the streak of white hair – who stands in the doorway, eyes narrowed and piercing as he scans the room before his gaze lands on you.

“Captain wants to see you, Healer,” he announces while keeping his gaze fixated on you. “If Y/N is up, that’s even better because he wanted to speak about her.” San nods in your direction but his words are unmistakably meant for Yunho.

“Couldn’t Captain come to the med bay instead? Y/N still isn’t strong enough to walk around much since she’s been bedridden for so long. Besides she only just woke up today.”

“Listen, I was just sent to fetch you and check up on her,” San says. He lifts his arms as though to defend himself, finally dragging his gaze off you.

“It’s not your job to check up on patients, San,” Yunho argues as he releases your arm and takes a step in the other man’s direction. “Here’s your checkup though: she’s not well enough to walk all the way to the bridge of Captain’s quarters.”

San’s expression remains stony as he blinks back at Yunho without moving. The silence is deafening until San decides to respond, matching the vehemence in Yunho’s tone. “I’ll inform Captain then.”

Yunho huffs when San spins around with an added flair of drama. Once the door slides shut again, you opt to speak up on the ordeal that just transpired.

“Are things always so tense between the two of you? This isn’t the first time I’ve witnessed you argue and I’ve only been awake for a grand total of 3 hours at best in your presence.”

“Just… a difference of personalities.” Yunho drags his tongue over his teeth, turning back to you. He rests a hand on your back and guides you back to the bed. “I save people. San kills people. That’s how things work. Our jobs. It’s what we’re supposed to do, what we’re here for, why Hongjoong recruited us in the first place. We’re polar opposites.”

“San and I aren’t much different then,” you say, tone quiet and eyes watching Yunho’s face for any change in expression. He shakes his head a few times.

“Quite different actually. San has killed people I could’ve saved in the past. Taken my patients from me and killed them without reason. You haven’t done that.”

“Is it the other way around as well?”

A laugh breaks through the tension of the room, and Yunho throws his head back. “Yes. If I’m going to save someone, then I will do just that. I’ve stopped San in the past.” He eases you onto the bed, moving to pick up the IV. You blink at him, only now noticing that there’s a certain brightness to him that wasn’t present when you first met him.

“Wait…” His hands hesitate near your catheter, eyes darting up to meet yours. “Has – has your hair always been blue? I thought – I could’ve sworn it was different when – was it just my fever?”

Yunho laughs again and continues his motions. “At least your senses are still intact even if your muscles aren’t. It was different a few days ago, yes. I just changed it because another crew member asked me to dye his hair, so I went ahead and joined in on the fun with him.”

“Wow, a healer and a hairstylist? Hongjoong got quite the catch, didn’t he? What can’t you do?” You joke as Yunho reattaches the wires.

“Not much, honestly!” Yunho responds with equal humor to his tone. “I’m good at everything really.” He sends a wink your way, and you nearly choke on your saliva. He has no shame. None whatsoever.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. Don’t act shy on me now.” Yunho pulls back, a smirk playing at his lips and you don’t know how to react other than to swing your foot out. You hit him in the shin, his body bends in half, a choked laugh escaping from his parted lips. “Damn, okay then. Noted. Y/N and dirty jokes don’t play well. Could you try stretching your arms a bit? I wanna see how the right one is doing.”

You do as asked, moving and stretching your arms out to the side.

“If the stitches bother you or start coming apart at all, let me know. I can go in with laser stitching now that it’s been a few days. I wasn’t able to close it all the way initially so I couldn’t do laser stitching.”

“It feels normal,” you admit as you rotate your arm. “A bit sore, if nothing else.” Frankly, if not for the bandage around your bicep, you wouldn’t even know that there’s a hole in your arm; it just feels like you had an awkward fall on it.

“Good, good. I put you back on the IV just to maintain fluid levels. We can probably try to get you some real food and water today after Captain visits.”

“That’d be nice,” you murmur more to yourself than to Yunho. The minimal snacking you did over the first few days aboard the ship was nice and all, but a proper meal sounds much more desirable.

“Is your side feeling alright as well? I almost forgot to ask.”

“What? Oh, uh, I forgot all about that.”

“That’s a good sign! Not forgetting, but it must mean that you aren’t in any pain. I figured out what happened with that by the way. The pneumothorax was caused by a severe force to your left side. You likely got it after you were shot or while adrenaline was still pumping through you since you didn’t seem to be showing any signs of pain there. Do you remember getting hit in the side or anything like that?”

You stare down at the bed, rummaging through your brain for any memory of a close-quartered fight. The only thing you remember is getting in a small scuffle with the dark-haired man guarding the docking station.

He kicked me after I pinned him down, didn’t he? Must have. How else would I have gotten the injury?

“Yea vaguely.”

“Well, the details aren’t important. I fixed it all up regardless.” Yunho hums and moves around the bed to sit atop a small stool. He peers at you in silence for a moment. You stare back, matching his silence.

“Well this is awkward,” Yunho announces after basking in the quiet for a few minutes. “Maybe I should go back to the dirty jokes and innuendos.”

“No, no, no!” You protest in an instant. “Please don’t.”

“Ha! Here I thought they were gonna grow on you. What else is there to talk about? Captain is taking his sweet time walking over here.” Yunho taps his chin, eyes leaving yours to stare up at the ceiling instead. “Oh, where are you from? I’ve… well, there’s no nice way to put this really, so I’ll just spit it out. I’ve seen you on bounty papers before. Frankly, I know next to nothing about you aside from the information on the bounties. Which is limited to a list of your crimes and missing data.”

“That’s because I normally make a point to keep it that way. The less people know about me, the less likely it is for them to find me. Makes sense, yeah?”

“Makes sense but… it sounds like a lonely life. Always living in fear of who might see you or find you. Never telling anyone anything about yourself. Not being able to trust anyone because you worry that they might sell you out.”

“Go out and get a bounty the size of mine on your head. Talk to me about trust after that.” Your words come out with a bit more scathing fervor than you intended, but the point still stands. The difference between you and Yunho is the bounty. Yours is what? Three? Four? Five times the size of his? Not to mention you are wanted dead whereas Yunho is wanted alive.

“It wasn’t meant as an attack, Y/N. Honestly, it wasn’t. I feel for you, that’s all. I wouldn’t wish that kind of loneliness on anyone.”

You pause, eyes trailing over Yunho’s form as he brings his gaze back to you. Sadness lingers in his gaze, a sadness you wish not to confront, and thus you divert the subject again.

“What have you seen on the bounty papers?”

“This and that. They’re all the same, aren’t they?”

“I make a point of avoiding my own bounty papers.”

“Ha, that’s a fair goal.” Yunho chuckles and leans back, gaze moving for the ceiling again. “I’m from Kebos, if you’ve ever been there.”

“Of course I have,” you answer with a slight smile.

“Of course, of course. You’ve probably been to every planet in Aurum’s system.”

“I have, yes, but not to every city on each planet. I’m still too young for that.”

“Hmm, I was about to be even more impressed but I guess I’ll have to rescind that now. I’m from the biggest city on Kebos, Reinig. Have you been?”

“Only shortly,” you sigh as you push your head back against the pillow. “On military business.” None of your memories from the military are pleasant ones, memories you don’t want to revisit, and thankfully Yunho must get the hint that you don’t want to talk about it.

“Growing up there, I used to think it was the ugliest city but in the winter they put up all these lights. At night the lights make the snow change colors and look absolutely magical.”

“I went in the winter but there wasn’t much time to glance around at the scenery.”

“That’s fair, yeah. I think it loses its appeal as you grow older, but I wouldn’t know that for certain. I haven’t been back to see then in well over ten years I think. My mother… she used to take me to the winter festivals when I was little.” There is a tinge of sadness to Yunho’s tone at the mention of his mother. You know that feeling all too well, having been in Yunho’s shoes before.

Yunho’s ego seems to deflate before your very eyes as he frowns at the ceiling.

“Ah but you didn’t come to hear my tragic backstory.”

You open your mouth to respond and reassure the man in some way (even though you don’t know what to say in these sorts of situations), but the chance is stolen from you as another whoosh resounds. Yunho pushes his seat back at the sound and stands up immediately. You move as well, although only with your head.

There in the doorway stands the captain, his platinum hair parted down the middle and fanned over his forehead. He’s not alone either, a much taller man bearing black hair and paled skin at his side. You know that one, and based upon the glare of his eyes as he stares you down, he remembers what you did to him at the docking station. Seonghwa, was it?

You pass a cynical grin his way. “How’s the head, pretty boy?” You ask, drawing a lilt to your tone that’s meant to be snide. The man merely passes a genuine smile back at you.

“Feeling great, princess.” His smile grows as he steps into the room, the shorter captain following suit albeit absent of the pretty smile.

“Lieutenant. Nice of you to join us,” Yunho greets as he steps around the foot of the bed. You instinctively pull yourself up and sit up straighter. “Captain. You as well.”

“Let’s just get to business, Yunho.” Hongjoong steps out from behind the lieutenant’s back, dark eyes boring into you. “I want to get this over with.”

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: hello hello it’s tuesday yaknow what that means :D i hope you all enjoy this chapter! i pROMISE things will be picking up in terms of speed from now on aofijeoijfdio let me know what you all think of this chappie!

tag list: @faeriewoobin

consider sending me a ko-fi!!

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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imjustthemechanic · 3 years

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The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan Part 17/? - A Miracle Part 18/? - A Matter of Circumstance

A chapter for anybody who’s been wondering just what Lake’s deal is.

It was dark by now. Peggy headed out on the deck, and got a blast of icy-cold air in the face. They were moving west, back towards American waters, and it made Peggy wonder if the Canadians even knew they were up here. In the darkness and wind there was nobody else on deck except the essential staff. All she had to do was find somewhere sheltered.

The wind was from the west, so Peggy went around behind the ship’s superstructure. One of the lifeboats was in need of repairs and had been lashed to the deck there, keel-up, so men could work on it. Between it and the superstructure was a nice little triangle that was out of the wind and away from prying eyes. With the ship and the sea drown out the noise, Peggy leaned against the wall and bawled.

Steve was alive! He was alive and awake and solid and real. All this time Peggy had been mourning his loss, trying to get over this beautiful brave fool of a man she’d once hoped to build a life with, he’d been up there in the ice waiting to be found! The moment she’d seen his eyes open, all the work she’d put into moving on had been utterly wasted because there he was. She was overjoyed at the same time as… what was she going to do?

Peggy loved Daniel. He understood her. Their relationship was based on working together in peacetime on a very different set of problems… that was something she would have had to build from the ground up with Steve and three years ago she’d been ready to do it, even looking forward to it, but now? Steve didn’t even know the time had passed. He might think they could still make their date at the Stork Club. Somebody was probably telling him about it right now. What would he think? Would he wonder why Peggy hadn’t told him herself?

Was she going to have to break his heart? Was she going to have to break Daniel’s? What about her own? And was she really so bloody selfish that at a time when Steve’s return was going to mean so much to so many people, people like Daniel and Lieutenant Harbottle who’d never felt they got to properly thank him, she was thinking about this?

The answer to that last question was yes. Yes, she absolutely was, damn her.

Hot tears slid down her face and froze to her cheeks, and her sobs mixed with the arctic wind and flew away across the sea on it. For what seemed like half the night, she felt like she might never be able to stop. Her head began to ache, her nose ran, her throat went sore… Steve was in there waiting for her to come back and she was going to look the ugliest she had in her life…

Then, at last, she ran out of tears. For a moment she stayed perfectly still, just listening to the wind… and then she heard the sound of somebody singing.

Perhaps she’d imagined it. Over the creak of the ship and the sound of her own shuddering breaths, how could Peggy have heard anything else? But there it was again, and after a moment of straining her ears, she realized it was coming from underneath the upturned lifeboat. She knelt down for a look. It was very dark under the boat, but once her eyes adjusted, she made out the shape of a woman lying on the deck, curled around a life vest she had clutched to her middle and singing softly to herself.

“And if I’m flying solo, at least I’m flying free,” she sang, slow and shaky. Peggy did not know the song, but she could tell it was off-key. “To those who’d ground me, take a message back for me…”

“Kay?” Peggy asked.

Kay opened her eyes. They were red-rimmed, and her cheeks were stained with tears.

“Are you all right?” Peggy wanted to know.

“I’m fine,” said Kay hoarsely.

“No, you aren’t,” said Peggy.

“If you already knew that, then why did you ask?” Kay rolled over to face away from her.

Peggy spent a moment wondering if she ought to say something more, then decided no. She’d never gotten a straight answer from Kay yet, and this was not the time to try. She should go in and wash her face, and see if she could talk to Steve without bursting into tears all over again. Peggy stood up.

“Don’t go,” said Kay.

Peggy knelt down again. “Why not?” she asked.

Kay was still lying with her back to Peggy, and did not move to change that. “Life’s not fair,” she said.

“No. No, it’s not,” Peggy agreed. It never was.

“Have you ever noticed that nobody ever says that like it’s a bad thing?” Kay asked. She sniffled, and Peggy saw an arm move to wipe her nose on her sleeve. “It’s just the way it is. We’re not supposed to try to change it.”

“Yes. The people who say life’s not fair are the ones who have some advantage they want to press,” Peggy agreed. “Whether it’s a parent to a child, a boss to an employee, or…” she could think of other examples, but they hit a little too close to home. “Or Steve’s lady friend, talking to the woman who risked her life for him even though he doesn’t even know who she is?”

This time, Kay did roll over. “Who do you think I am, Peggy?” she asked.

Peggy’s heart started beating a little faster. For all she’d just had a very personal breakdown, there was enough professional left in her to know that this might be her only chance to learn something very important. She was not sure how she felt about Kay – they certainly weren’t friends, but after what had happened today, could they really be enemies anymore? – but she could use this emotional moment to get some kind of truth from her. The question was whether she would hate herself for it later.

“Can we talk about this indoors?” Peggy asked.

Kay uncurled a little from the life vest she’d been crying into, but she did so in defeat, not because she wanted to open up. “You want me somewhere you can record me.”

“No,” Peggy backtracked. “I want you somewhere we can both wash our faces and have something hot to drink, because we’re cried out and it’s brass monkeys out here.”

“It’s okay. I’d do the same thing,” said Kay.

She squirmed out from under the boat and Peggy helped her stand, and they both stumbled back inside and found a washroom. On a navy ship all of these, except the one for the nurses, were supposed to be men only, but most of the sailors who came in and saw the two of them washing up just turned around and left again – and the ones who stayed politely decided to use the stalls. Peggy and Kay were still red-eyed and miserable as they went to the mess hall, but Peggy at least felt a little more presentable. She got them each a mug of tea, and they went to a little table in the corner, far from anyone else present at this hour.

By the time they got there, she had settled on how she was going to answer Kay’s question. Peggy gave the other woman her tea, and then said, “I think you definitely came from the same place as Olga Barynova,” she said, “and I think you may have been telling the truth when you said they sent you here to find her. But I also think you have your own agenda, which your superiors may not approve of. What that has to do with Steve I’m not sure.”

Kay shook her head. “Nobody sent me. I came here on my own. I…” she took a deep breath. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I thought I’d let you figure it out on your own, but I don’t care anymore. I’m a time traveler. I’m from the future. I’m here to fix it.”

That was not an answer Peggy had been prepared for, and her instinctive reaction was that it had to be nonsense. Yet… hadn’t she seen stranger things? She’d seen tiny Steve Rogers transformed into Captain America. She’d seen the awesome technology of the Valkyrie, a plane the size of this aircraft carrier roaring into the sky as if it weighed nothing at all. She’d seen the unbelievable power of the tesseract, the bizarre properties of the Zero Matter, and the corpse of a giant her superiors thought must have come from outer space. Who was Peggy Carter to say that time travel was impossible?

“Tell me more,” she said.

“I was born in 1984,” said Kay, “and you’re right, the Red Room got me… but the Soviet Union collapsed when I was still a child, so they began using us as assassins and spies for hire instead. The controls weren’t as tight as they used to be, and eventually I went rogue. The organization the SSR evolved into sent a man to kill me, but he…” She looked up at Peggy, and seemed to arrange her words carefully before she continued. “I guess he thought I was worth more alive. So I ended up working for them instead. I was with the group who found Steve in the arctic in 2012.”

Peggy had been thinking that recruiting somebody like Dottie sounded far too dangerous to her, but that number brought her train of thought up short. Twenty-twelve didn’t even sound like a real year. It was the sort of far-flung future one saw in serials where people regularly rode rocket ships into space. “And he was still alive?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Kay. “When I met him, when they thawed him out – they let it take a few days, so he recovered better than he did today – he was so lost. Everybody he knew was dead and the whole world had changed, but somehow they expected him to just get back into it and be Captain America again. And he did, because he didn’t know what else to do.”

Peggy could just picture it… poor Steve, wandering in a world like something out of one of Howard’s fantasies, all flying cars and cities on the moon. Not in itself a terrible future, but not one anyone wanted to see alone.

But apparently it was a terrible future, because Kay went on: “by that time, people like Zola meant that HYDRA had completely permeated the United States government. You almost couldn’t get it out without tearing the whole thing down. Steve and I found out about it and exposed it, but it was a horrible mess. People looked back on the last sixty years and realized there were so many wars that didn’t need to happen and people who didn’t need to die.”

When talking about the death of Zola, Peggy recalled, Kay had sounded like the murder had been very personal to her. There was more than that, though: “were you in love with him?” Peggy asked.

“Love is for children,” said Kay. “Captain Rogers was my friend. We worked together for years. He missed you. He missed Barnes, he missed Stark. Finding HYDRA was still active made him feel like he’d sacrificed himself in that plane wreck for nothing. There are so many things he would not have stood for, but those won’t happen now.” She sat up a little straighter. “Because Zola is dead and Steve is alive, and the future is going to be better.”

Peggy didn’t know if she believed a word of that… but it was certainly a compelling idea, and she couldn’t deny the reality of the two facts Kay had just stated. Zola was dead, and Steve was alive. And if the other things she’d said were true, then the future was going to be… perhaps not necessarily better, but certainly very different.

He was my friend. That was why she’d been crying, because he’d woken up and looked at her and said who are you? If he’d done the same to Peggy, she didn’t know that she would have been able to just keep smiling as Kay had.

“What are you going to do next?” Peggy asked.

“I’ve got a list,” said Kay. “There are some more like Zola who have to go, and the Red Room, but we’re not talking about people who keep their records for seventy years. I need information, and to get it I think I need Barynova.”

“Then why run off to follow me?” Peggy wanted to know. “Why not stay in New York where they’re working on that?”

Kay gave an uneasy shrug. “I just felt like I should be here.”

Peggy supposed she ought not to argue with that. If not for Kay, Steve would be either on a dissecting table or burned alive in the boiler room, and Peggy would never even know she’d killed him. The thought made her shudder.

“What’s your real name?” she asked.

“Natalia Alianova Romanova,” was the reply. “If I had any friends they’d call me Natasha. Or just Nat. But don’t call me that,” Kay added firmly. “I don’t want that name getting into the history books later. I don’t want anyone ever knowing this wasn’t the way history was originally supposed to go.”

“Because you don’t want anyone trying to put it back,” Peggy said.

“That’s right.” Kay heaved a shuddering sigh, as if she might start crying again, but she did not. “Do you believe me?”

“I don’t know what to believe,” Peggy replied, with complete honesty. “But you did lead me to him, so… thank you for that.” Even if Peggy had no idea what she was going to do about it.

“You’re welcome,” said Kay. “You were the love of his life.”

“He was mine, too,” Peggy said, and wondered what Kay would think of the problem that presented her with. Did she know something else about Peggy’s own future that Peggy did not? Was she destined to be unhappy in marriage? Or had she even thought about it at all? Maybe Peggy was only here because Kay expected her to play her role in Steve’s future, and had never considered that Peggy might have developed other plans in the meantime.

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

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frostsinth · 4 years

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Royal Flush - Pt. 7

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art

I am both sorry and not sorry. I really wanted to post this part because I think everyone will like it a lot. I hope you guys enjoy it. Of course... I will assure you that the next part is well underway, so you don’t perhaps try to murder me in my sleep when you reach the end.

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Enjoy!

The next few days passed by in such a blur, I hardly even registered them. My mornings would start with a training spar session with Damjan, who peppered in goblinese vulgarities and unsolicited relationship advice, much to my chagrin. Usually this was followed by an hour or two where I was left to my own devices. I had utilized my new charmed eyes and Seoc’s willing company to explore the top levels of the castle, but had promptly decided this was not the best use of my freedom the third time Seoc had to take the lead to bring me back to my quarters. It was during one of these excursions that we brooched the subject of my need for more clothes (Seoc politely alluded to it, for which I was extremely grateful) and it was arranged for a tailor to be commissioned for a few new outfits similar to the ones I had brought. The first was ready within a day, and I found it lovely despite the slight over embellishments of gold thread at the sleeves and collars on even the tunic and trousers as well as the vest and (thankfully) matching jacket. It seemed the tailor couldn’t completely resist their decadent nature (it probably seemed a horribly dull project to them considering their usual customers).

Before noon each day the King would appear, usually still in a sour mood, and we would share a quick meal before he took me along with him to complete his daily tasks. Most of his day to day responsibilities were things like managing disputes, discussing the use of Royal funds, monitoring progress on plans, and receiving reports from various ends of the kingdom. This was accomplished by meeting with various diplomats and members of court. I attended, but did not participate for the most part. They were kind enough to conduct most of the meetings in Common, but occasionally would slip back into goblinese. It turned out the kingdom was much larger than I had ever been led to believe; the portion of the goblin realm that rested under the same mountain as the castle was only its capital city. There were many other smaller cities and hamlets spread out far and wide beneath the mountain range.

By mid to late afternoon, everyone had been seen, and Grier would retire us to his study if he had paperwork to complete with Hibik. It was there that I began my lessons with a stout little old goblin named Sir Ludde. He spoke softly, and I often had to struggle to hear him. But he was very patient and seemed to have a solid grasp of the relationship between Common and goblinese. Our dinner would be brought to us there, and we would eat while we worked. Occasionally, Grier was needed elsewhere in the castle, and would leave me alone to my lessons. Usually he would return just as I finished and escort me back to my rooms for the evening.

I found I enjoyed our time alone. It was not often; the demands of the court kept the King quite busy (more so than usual, I was assured, due to the new Treaty happening to correspond with the harvest). Sometimes even when we found time to ourselves, we still had more work to do. I with my assignments from Ludde, which were difficult and required almost all of my concentration, and him with his paperwork. On these occasions, I would often look up to find him near me; spread out on the sofa next to me, sitting on the ground by the marble table at my feet. And, as if he could sense my eyes, he would look up and smile. And I would blush profusely and pretend to go back to whatever I had been working on. When we weren’t distracted by something else, he would sit close to me. And talk endlessly about this, that, or the other thing. The subject of our wedding came up more than once, and I tried hard not to squirm too much during the discussions. Although I didn’t share much during these moments, I was surprised to find myself growing accustomed to his presence... which of course, had been the intent.

The next time his responsibilities took him away from the study, I finished up with Ludde alone. I worked on the assignments he left me and penned a new letter to Morgana for Seoc to send out the next day, glancing at the door every few minutes. Those minutes ticked by into hours, and I began to grow restless with an ache forming in my neck.

I sighed, leaning back and blinking a few times. The words on the page had started to blur together; I just wasn’t understanding any of it anymore. I glanced at the door for the millionth time that hour, but same as all the previous, it remained closed. I shifted in the arm chair, glancing over to the dying fire. Wondering just how late it really was. Judging by my pounding head, I was guessing it was pretty late into the night by now.

Even if the hour hadn’t been so deep into the evening, between the clutter of Grier’s study and the strenuous labor of my latest assignment I was surprised I was still awake at all. I looked about quietly, considering the odds and ends and trinkets spread across the room. It wasn’t the first time the thought came to my mind asking if perhaps he had forgotten he had told me to wait here for him… It was seeming more likely with each passing hour.

Perhaps I should leave, and try to navigate back to my rooms. It wasn’t a super appealing thought considering my skill at getting lost. I sighed again, rubbing at my face with one hand. It was no use, I told myself. I wasn’t about to fall asleep on the couch here. I couldn’t stand the idea of being woken like a child to be led back to my chambers. Better that I at least make an attempt. Perhaps I could find a goblin to assist me. Seoc had already retired for the evening as both of us had been under the assumption the King would be returning to escort me back himself. I shifted and looked around one more time. But there would surely be others, despite the hour.

I shuffled my papers and left them in a neat pile on the marble table and blew out the candles I had been reading by. I had done what I could for the rest of the room; organizing and piling and stacking. My goblinese was still limited to the alphabet and a few simple words, so I didn’t dare sort papers too much. But at least there weren’t scarves strewn about haphazardly, nor inkwells and quills all over the place. I had returned books to shelves or otherwise neatly stacked them, had straightened trinkets and moved the candlesticks into a pattern. Tall silver, short gold, short silver, tall gold, and so on. More intentional. It looked better, if I was being honest, despite the explosion of colors and the amount of clutter that remained… I only hoped Grier would agree. I wrung my hands anxiously at the thought he would be irritated that I had changed his private study to meet my own standards… but then, argued an angry little voice, if he hadn’t wanted you to touch anything, he shouldn’t have forgotten you here. He only had himself to blame, I agreed with the voice.

I made my way over to the door, hesitantly tugging it open and peering out into the hallway beyond. Unfortunately, there was not a soul in sight. I would have to venture further to find assistance. I pulled the door closed behind me as quietly as possible. But which way? I glanced both directions, wracking my brain and trying to at least recall the general direction we took whenever we had left his study previously. Right, I supposed, though I wasn’t certain. I sighed tiredly, glancing around one last time before making my way down the hallway in that direction.

I wandered for far too long, until I had a hard time picking up my tired legs. Originally I followed the hall, listening for sounds and hoping to come upon a friendly goblin face. But the castle was quiet, almost eerily so. I grumbled to myself after the fifth empty passage. There should really be guards posted more frequently; I would bring it up later. I decided it was a mistake to leave the study, and turned to try and make my way back. And ended up in an entirely different part of the castle. Or at least, I was pretty sure I had. The statues and decorations were just as eclectic and scattered down these halls, but nothing looked familiar. Had I taken a wrong turn somewhere? I was pretty sure I had only retraced my footsteps… Maybe it was supposed to be a right at the fork behind me. I must have turned left initially.

I suddenly heard footsteps that weren’t mine, and eagerly tilted my head. Relief washing through me. Around the next corner I came upon their source; a narrow shouldered goblin who seemed to be carrying a crate of supplies. They seemed to be struggling actually, balancing two boxes on top of each other.

“Excuse me!” I called lightly, forcing myself to walk over calmly so as not to startle them.

They turned, and scarlet eyes widened in surprise. She (as I could see now that she turned around) quickly put the crates down and dipped her head respectfully. Her dark brown hair was cropped short on one side and braided on the other, and it fell neatly about long flat ears. She had a small nose with a wide base, and when she chanced a peek up at me, I saw dark green speckles on her round cheeks.

“Apologies, forgive me!” I told her. “I… I seem to be a bit lost. Can you direct me to my quarters? Or perhaps back to the King’s study?”

She straightened a little at my words, and her head tilted to the side. “Eto ochen, mo Onsa.” She replied, and her tone sounded apologetic. I felt my cheeks flush a little as she shook her head. “Non tuig shibalon…”

“Ah.. yes, I see.” I tried not to mumble, and carefully kept my disappointment out of my voice. I recognized ‘eto ochen’. ‘I’m sorry’. And I was certain she had said ‘shiba’, though perhaps I was pulling sounds where there were none. I dug through the rest of my limited reserves of goblinese. “Ah… Korol Grier, ah…” I gestured around, then swallowed hard and dropped my hand. “Eto ochen, cara…”

She giggled, then quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. Bowing low and stammering something quickly. I held up my hands, patting the air before me.

“It’s alright, my fault entirely,” I assured her, and she looked up at me shyly. I tried to soften my look, but wasn’t sure if I succeeded, “I wish I knew a little more… I don’t suppose you can help me?”

The woman tapped her fingers to her lips, a gesture I had come to recognize as the universal sign of a goblin thinking. I waited patiently, hands tucked neatly behind me.

“Tha thu nomerak so’un Korol?” She offered, patting her chest and pointing to me then around the hall. I got the impression she was signing a guiding motion.

I nodded. “Erm, yes… I think. Korol… Grier.” Maybe she knew where he was and could bring me straight to him? Either way, she had said something about the King. And that was better than wandering the halls lost.

She smiled widely, nodding and bounding eagerly on her toes. She glanced over at the crates, patting them and tilting her head to the side. She asked something, gesturing to the crates again, then down the hall.

“Ah, you are… bringing these somewhere? I don’t mind, of course.” I nodded to the crates. “Thank you.”

She glanced at me, then moved to pick up the crates again. I quickly stepped over to help as she staggered under their weight, and took the top one for her. Her eyes went a little wide, and she looked me up and down. Then she smiled, seeming genuinely grateful and wholly awed. I decided that it was a good thing goblins didn’t hide their emotions so well; even if I couldn’t speak with her, I could easily tell what she was thinking.

“Ni pasi, mo Onsa.”

I returned her nod, recognizing her thanks. “Ussta bez.” I replied, and her smile widened. It brought a twinkle to her scarlet eyes.

She jerked her head and led the way down the hall. I followed behind, and our pace was much quicker now that she wasn’t struggling to carry something nearly her own weight. Not far away we came to a short, narrow door, half tucked behind a thick curtain. She waved me to stop, speaking softly, and shouldered it open. It seemed to be a small storage closet, and she walked in, dropping her crate amid some others at the back. She came over and I bent low, passing her mine, which she promptly brought to place with the rest.

She ushered me out, smiling and bobbing excitedly. As the door clicked closed behind her, she nodded and jerked her head. Speaking quickly and happily. She pointed to me, spoke something where the only words I made out again was ‘King’, then led the way down the hall. I followed her, hoping she was actually leading me to Grier, or perhaps his study. I also hoped I had remembered the word for ‘King’ correctly… I wondered if there were any similar words. But she seemed confident, and I was simply grateful not to be wandering alone anymore. The cluttered hallways were a bit ominous by oneself.

“I didn’t get your name,” I told her, keeping my stride short to avoid stepping on her ankles, “Ah...nazain, cara?”

She grinned over her shoulder at me, and spat out a long goblinese sentence. I blinked at her. She chewed her lip, her eyes dancing. “Hausa, mo Onsa.” She amended.

“Hausa?” I echoed, and she nodded excitedly. “That’s a very pretty name… Ni pasi, Hausa… Nazai Nikostratus.”

“Feos, ta non ussta, ussta bez, mo Onsa.” She replied. She stopped, apparently having reached our intended destination, and pointed to a grand doorway beside us. I glanced at it, but it was completely foreign to me. She smiled and nodded. “Nomerak so’un Korol.”

Crap… This was not Grier’s study. Nor, certainly, was it my own rooms. I was positive I had never been to this place before. I looked around, but there was no one else about. No other guards, no servants. Certainly not Hibik or Seoc.

“... Korol Grier?” I asked her tentatively, pointing to the door.

She nodded, grinning. I resisted the urge to chew at the inside of my cheek. Debating what to do. But she seemed so happy, I couldn’t quite bring myself to try and communicate the fact that… I still had no idea where I was. I tried to keep the embarrassment out of my face.

“Ah, Ni pasi, Hausa.” I told her again, careful to keep my tone polite. Dipping my head to her.

She bounced again, her dark hair bobbing on one side. “Non ussta bez, Onsa… Nee-koh-straw-tus.” She sounded out my name carefully, then giggled, bowing so low the ends of her hair brushed the carpeted floor. She gave me a little friendly wave, then darted off.

I waited for her to disappear around the corner before I released a heavy sigh. Well… Hausa had insisted that this door had something to do with Grier… so I supposed it would be alright to attempt to check beyond. Maybe she had meant he was in a meeting here? I strained my ears, trying to see if I could hear anything beyond the intricately carved oak doors. I reached out one hand and touched the pattern, scoffing slightly at the inlaid gold and silver. This door certainly seemed like the door that might lead to Grier; it screamed of his overly flamboyant style. I almost laughed at that thought.

I built up my courage and balled my hand into a fist, knocking lightly. There was no answer, and after a few moments, I tried again. Still no answer. Curiously, I tried the handle, and found it gave readily under my touch, unlocked. The door popped open easily despite its size, and I jumped. Before I could catch it, it slowly swung out of my reach. Revealing the room beyond.

It was large, and lavishly decorated. At first I thought it might be a library, or perhaps a visiting sitting room. The walls were almost entirely shelves, filled with books and scrolls and tomes. They seemed to be spilling off the shelves, along scarves, necklaces, and other long string like things that had been stuffed in the crevices between books. A large couch took up the majority of one side of the room, facing a stone fireplace that filled one wall. The couch was short and deep set, and ridiculously plush. There was also a set of armchairs around a small card table, a long narrow table along the back of the couch, and little round pedestals and tables lining the arms. Of course, nothing matched anything else, and again I was grateful that my charmed eyes did not see the color as lavishly in the dark as in candle light. The floor had at least three different carpets piled on it, and everything everywhere was absolutely covered or filled to bursting with stuff. Globes, bowls, vases, chests, jewelry boxes, glass jars, models, maps, parchment, quills, inkwells, jewels, rings, what I was pretty sure was a crown, sextants, astrolabes, and a whole manner of other things I didn’t have a name for nor the time to properly sort from the rest of the clutter. It spilled over the tables and dripped to the floor into piles at their bases, not dirty or filthy but certainly not organized. There was even an armchair filled with discarded clothing, or at least that was what I assumed it was based upon the errant sleeve, pant leg, or collar I could make out amid the jumble.

Despite this, it was not the overwhelming amount of clutter in the room that had me suddenly frozen in place. It was the smell. As soon as the door swung open, it hit me in a wave and made my heart spin in my chest. The soft scent of parchment and candlewax. The lingering tint of woodsmoke. But overlaying everything else, stronger than I had ever smelled it before (save for perhaps one other source) was the scent of sage and Myrrh. And whatever the indiscernible natural scent of his body that I had come to associate with Grier.

“H-Hello?” I called timidly, then quickly cleared my throat and straightened. Walking a more affirmative step forward. “Hello?” I tried again, more formally. “Is anyone here?”

I half expected the King to burst from behind one of the other doors that lead away from the room. I took a few more steps in, looking around slowly. The door swung on its hinges, rolling towards its frame as soon as I had cleared its arch. It moved on its own, and before I could react, it clunked closed. I wondered if it was enchanted. Based upon the other charms and such I had seen so far in the castle, as well as having seen more of Grier’s forgetful nature over the last few days, it didn’t seem far-fetched. I turned, looking around the room again and giving another quiet call. It seemed this was his foyer, though it was larger than mine, the layout was much the same. Just like the door, I could see his personality abound in each collected bobble and scrap of clutter. The realization that Hausa had assumed when I was looking for the King this was what I meant had me blushing at the edges of my collar. I pulled at my tunic, clearing my throat and looking around carefully. Brushing the thought aside.

I felt strange, standing there, surrounded by not only his things, but the overbearing scent of him. It made my tired head dizzy, as well as other things I briskly ignored, and I shook it quickly. I couldn’t stay here, now that I was certain the rooms were empty. And besides, what if Grier did go back to the study to look for me? If I wasn’t there, would he go to check that I had made it back to my rooms? And when he found those empty as well? I broke into a cold sweat at the thought of alarm bells sounding and a full sweep of the palace and city being conducted for me. I was certain his personal chambers would be one of the last places they checked. And I would be mortified to have caused such a fuss in the first place.

I had made up my mind to leave, and if not wait in the hallway, then to try and find another goblin (perhaps one that spoke Common) when the clunk of the door’s latch dropping had me jumping out of my skin. I spun, eyes shooting wide, flush filling my face.

Relief flooded over top my surprise as I recognized the goblin who stumbled in noisily, and I almost breathed his name out loud. Grier. I started to take a step forward, then stopped. The King hadn’t noticed me, and was staggering about. He knocked over the small side table by the door in his effort to walk over to the assorted pile of clothes on the armchair, and I didn’t need to speak goblinese to know he was heavily cursing in response. My eyebrows shot up as he quickly undid the buttons on his tunic, then loosened the ties and pulled it up over his head. Chucking it to the side.

I took a step back in shock at the sudden sight of his bare torso. His soft, grey-green skin was pulled taut with a healthy vigor over his muscular shoulders and back. I watched it ripple as he moved, digging around the pile of discarded clothes, and my mouth suddenly went quite dry and my pulse ricocheted. My retreat had me bumping into the card table, and I scrambled clumsily to try and catch the candlestick before it toppled over, without success. It crashed to the floor, and Grier spun at the sound.

I thought his eyes might just pop out of his sockets, and he nearly lost his balance entirely at the sight of me. I was certain there would be steam rising from my face, my blood was rushing through it so fast. I straightened so fast my spine protested, squaring my shoulders and trying to look more intentional and confident. And less guilty.

“H-how...H-how??” He finally managed after his mouth flapped uselessly a few times. The goblin tried to cross over to me, but his feet got tangled amid themselves and he barely caught himself on the couch.

I moved without thinking when I saw him stumble. With two quick strides, I was at his side, reaching out as if to catch him. I stopped short, straightening again and rubbing the back of my neck. I realized I was staring a moment later and quickly cleared my throat. Darting my eyes first to the left. Then to the right. Then circumventive around the room. Anywhere but on the shirtless goblin staring up at me with eyes falling out of his head.

“I-I apologize, Your Majesty, I didn’t-”

“Alright, I must have hit my head somewhere.” He mumbled, then slowly straightened himself, swaying slightly. “I lost my balance and passed out. And now I’m dreaming.”

I watched his eyes appraise me unabashed from head to toe. “A-ah, I… I didn’t mean t-to-”

“Or I’m hallucinating.” He amended at my stuttering response. “I felt guilty not going back to get you sooner, and now my conscience has conjured you up in the flesh.”

I didn’t think I could run any hotter. The heat of my cheeks would put a dragon to shame and my ears burned painfully. “N-no, Your Majesty, I’m-”

His hand came out, reaching for mine as if to ascertain the truth of the matter. I jerked away, startled by his movement and nearly squeaked as Grier suddenly toppled forward from over extending himself. I barely had time to react, jumping back towards him as suddenly as I had pulled away and putting my arms out to catch him before he hit the floor. He fell into my chest, and I just barely kept us both upright in my surprise.

We froze like that, and scarlet eyes met mine as Grier slowly craned his neck to look up at me. His fall had him leaning heavily against me, one hand on each arm, his upper torso against my abdomen, his legs haphazardly skewed beneath him. My heart raced a mile a minute in my breast, and I held my breath captive in my throat. Trying not to think too much about the warmth of the skin on the small of his back beneath my palm.

“So…” He breathed. “You really are here…” I watched him blink slowly a few times, confounded. He glanced around, as if not entirely certain where he was, then turned his attention back to me. “What… how did you get here?”

I swallowed hard. “I-I… I was trying to find my way back to my rooms-”

“These are my rooms.” He interrupted, tilting his head to the side. Then he looked around again. “Aren’t they?”

“Y-yes! But, you see, I got lost…” I stammered, then suddenly realized I was still holding him against me. I carefully tried to right him, seeking to put space between us once more to allow my thoughts to have a remote chance of functioning more normally.

“In my rooms?”

“Yes! I-I mean, I mean n-no, I was… I, there was a… a servant. She didn’t speak Common-” He swayed again, but steadied himself with a hand on the back of the couch. I stared at the ground at our feet, trying to completely disregard the wave of intense heat washing through not only my face but the rest of my body as well. “She- ah… there was some… miscommunication I think-”

He laughed, then hiccuped, and I lifted my gaze to look at him in surprise. “Ah well, serendipit-dious then… I was on my way back to you, but I spilled something on my shirt, you see-” He moved to gesture to his torso, then seemed to realize he was in fact shirtless. He blinked stupidly, then looked around. “Ah… I… I meant to change-”

“A-are you alright?” I asked dubiously, somehow managing to get my tongue to work properly in my mouth. I had been so caught up in my own embarrassment I hadn’t realized how much his words were slurred. Not to mention his strange lack of balance.

“Mm?” He was rubbing at the back of his neck, which made his chest muscles flex in a way that had a shiver running down my spine. “Mmm. Oh, ah. Yes, that. This, rather.” He shuffled his feet, then barely caught himself again. “I was… I am afraid I partook in a fair share of liquor with our dear General Damjan…” He laughed lightly again. “The man can drink like a horse, I tell you!”

I stiffened, suddenly praying that perhaps this whole misadventure might be forgotten tomorrow. If only I could make my escape now. “I-I apologize, I would have-”

“Non, halshen Osna mo!” He cried, then stopped, blinking a few times. I stared at him, wide eyed. He gave me a sheepish grin. “Ah… The fault is mine, Nisostraw… Nickosta… My young Prince.” He started to spin quickly on his heel, extending one hand out. “But come! I shall rectify it and escort you to your rooms-”

I had to leap forward to catch him again, hooking my arm under his. I gritted my teeth even as my cheeks throbbed from the blood rushing beneath them. “You are certainly in no state to be going anywhere, Your Majesty.”

He scoffed at me, letting me settle him back on his feet. “Stop calling me that, you handsome fool,” He demanded, trying to push my hands away and nearly losing his balance again in the process, “I am perfectly capable of escorting you to your rooms.”

He began to stride towards the door, purposefully and carefully placing each step before him. “Ah.. Your Majesty-”

“I’m not answering to that!” He called over his shoulder, halfway to the door now.

“Y-your Majesty…” He continued to ignore me. “Grier!” I cried exasperatedly.

Finally he stopped, turning and swaying slightly. A cocky grin on his lips. “Yes, my young Prince?”

I pursed my lips, straightening slowly and fixing my composure as I tucked my hands behind my back. “... You’re still not wearing a shirt.”

“Eh?” He looked down, and his complexion became a little darker. The goblin cleared his throat, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. “... Perhaps you have a point.”

“... It’s alright, I-I’ll figure out the way back.” I reassured him.

He nodded, looking a little disappointed. I moved to walk towards the door, trying to decide exactly what I could do, and not fancying a night wandering the halls. Grier turned to address me as I drew closer, and started to topple to the side once more. I just managed to catch him again, my arm scooping out. Our eyes met, and his mischievous grin returned.

“I seem to keep falling for you, my young Prince.” He murmured teasingly.

My breath caught in my throat and my face burned, but I shook my head to hide it. “...I can’t believe you just said that.”

He laughed, his hand lingering on my arm as I got his feet beneath him once again. “I couldn’t resist, it was too perfect.”

I sighed, glancing at the door, then back to him. “I suppose I-I should get you... settled first. Elsewise you might end up spending the night on the floor.”

His grin turned to a small scowl. “I most certainly would not! I am quite capable of taking care of myself!”

I raised one brow at him. “Say my name, then.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Nikostrawn… Nack-we.. Neekohstran…”

I took up his elbow, steering him towards the rear chambers. “Nope. Let’s go.”

I ignored his continued protests as well as his still very distracting bare top half as I led him through the sitting room, then towards the door which corresponded to my own bedroom in my quarters. I opened it experimentally, and was pleased to find it was in fact the sleeping chambers. A large bed overflowing with numerous thick, colorful blankets sat in the middle of the back wall. It had a tall canopy overhead, and long draping curtains sloppily tied to the posts. The rest of the room was equally disheveled and I resisted the urge to sigh as we picked our way across the scattered items spilling from pedestals, tables, and shelves onto the floor.

I let him fall face first onto the bed when we reached it, and heard a muffled groan as he did. I placed my hands on my hips, looking around before noticing a pitcher set nearby with a copper chalice beside it. I picked my way over and raised it to my nose. Sloshing it about and sniffing at it experimentally. I poured a bit into the chalice, turning and making my way back over to him. Confident that while I had no idea how long it had been sitting out, this was at least water of some form or another that had at one point been intended for drinking.

I dodged as a boot whizzed past me, and turned with a small scowl forming on my lips. Grier smirked, shrugging, and seeming pleased to have managed to sit right-side up amid the voluminous sheets and wiggling his now bare toes. He took the offered glass, drinking deeply and peering up at me through pale lashes.

“... If you’re settled now?” I pressed, refilling his cup then setting the pitcher on his nightstand. I briskly turned to make my escape.

“Wait!” He caught my arm, kneeling on the mattress precariously to be nearly at my eye level. I stared at his hand, then studied his face. “My head is still spinning… keep me company a while longer?”

His hand was surprisingly strong despite the amount of alcohol I amassed was swirling through his veins, and he tugged on me insistently. I sighed, shaking my head but too tired to resist and allowed him to pull me a little closer. My flush returned, and my heart thundered in my ears as he settled onto his bottom again and patted the edge of the bed beside him. I considered him one last time, then slowly lowered myself to sit in the indicated space. He pulled one knee up, leaning over it and sipping at his water again.

“You are very kind, my young Prince,” He said, smiling at me coyly, “Especially since I left you waiting… it wasn’t my intent.”

I nodded, looking down at my hands on my lap. “What kept you?”

Grier sighed deeply. “Well, first it was a meeting with Lord Notah, who always wants me to try his latest imports. Then I ran into Damjan, who insisted on playing a card game with me and plying me with copious amounts of alcohol.” He chuckled sheepishly. “I lost track of time.”

I frowned slightly, thinking it over. “Understandable, I’m sure. If I had a better head for the castle, it wouldn’t have been an issue… I wouldn’t need to be led about like a child.” I tried not to sound too bitter about it, but wasn’t sure if I succeeded.

He shook his head. “I think it worked out for the better though, no?” He cleared his throat, thumbing his chalice. “Certainly makes for a story.”

Noticing it was nearly empty, I reached for the pitcher, refilling his cup. I belatedly realized as I returned it that the motion had me reaching across his lap, bringing our bodies perilously close together. I blushed, leaning back and rubbing the back of my neck. Grier took a slow sip of the newly refilled water, eyeing me with a look I couldn’t quite place but that had my stomach flipping.

“... Perhaps we can use this time to speak some more?”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “How do you mean?” I asked dryly, stiffening my jaw warily.

He shifted, chuckling into his cup. “I always have questions about you… how are you finding goblins?” He peered up at me. “Are we very strange to you?”

I thought about that for a moment, rubbing the palm of my hand. “In some ways...”

“What ways are those?” He pressed.

“Ah…” I swallowed hard, hesitant. “... You are very… friendly.”

He laughed. “Friendly? Are humans so cold?”

I shook my head. “Not ‘cold’ per say just… more reserved. More.. subdued.”

“I see. We certainly don’t abide by reserved-ness.” He mused, nodding.

“I-I apologize-”

He waved away my words. “I completely agree. And I find humans equally strange.”

I glanced at him curiously despite myself. “We are?”

He nodded. “Yes! You are an absolute enigma, everything you do is a mystery to me.” He cocked his head to the side. “You also always stand like there is a lance strapped to your spine. Is it so wrong to see that you are actually feeling something?”

I almost laughed, but settled for an embarrassingly casual shrug of my shoulders. “It… I’m not sure…” I looked off to the side. “It was always… frowned upon. Showing emotion… Especially as a Prince…” I stopped, hesitating.

“Why? What’s wrong with having emotions?” I opened my mouth, then closed it. “Just your thoughts.” He reminded me. “No filter. Just speak. Even if you don’t think it makes sense.”

I chewed that over for a minute, frowning slightly. “It’s… it’s seen as a weakness… A lack of control…” I paused again, struggling to understand my life through the eyes of an outsider. I glanced at him, then back down at my hands. “It’s just how it’s always been. You don’t question it…” I rubbed at my palm again. “H-how do goblins see it?”

“Emotions are a part of life,” He replied, leaning over his knee and taking a long sip of his water. “Trying to fight one's emotions would be like trying to control the sea. Sure, during fair weather you might appear be able to, but come the first storm?” He sighed. “Why would humans try to deny such a large part of themselves?”

“It’s... it’s just how it’s always been... We’re not so good at accepting changes…” I mumbled honestly, “Especially things deemed unusual or … different...”

There was silence for a long moment. My neck itched to look up at him, but I couldn’t quite manage. I sighed deeply after a while, straightening and shaking my head.

“It is late. I should be going-”

I stopped short as his hand caught my arm again. “You can hardly be expected to find your rooms on your own. And it’s clear I can’t bring you...” He pointed out, and I stared down at the way his green skin seemed all the more vibrant against my pale sleeve. “Why not just… stay? Besides, I feel like I never get to see you anymore.” He quickly changed the subject as I started to stiffen at his suggestion.

“See me?” I echoed, surprised. “We’ve hardly been apart.”

“Well, yes, but… not alone like this.” He fumbled with his drink, then gave me a lopsided smile. “I had hoped to charm another kiss out of you tonight.”

I swallowed hard, and my eyes dropped back to my lap. “O-Oh….”

My common sense told me to leave. To say good evening and make my way out. What did it matter how late it was, or how unlikely it was that I would ever find my rooms on my own? I couldn’t help the old voice at the back of my mind screaming about how improper it was to be sitting alone with him in his bed… Another part of me… a quieter part, becoming louder by the minute… wanted to see what would happen if I did stay. Perhaps if I hadn’t already been so tired, my will to resist that second voice would have been stronger. Perhaps if I hadn’t felt myself in a heavy fog made of exhaustion and embarrassment, my lifetime of proper etiquette might have won out… As it was...

“... Perhaps I might tell you how handsome you are again,” Grier continued tentatively, when I made no further move to leave, “... And how I can’t stop thinking about the way you kissed me outside your rooms…” I blushed profusely and shifted restlessly. “.... Or maybe I could… perhaps recite you some goblinese poetry? If that’s something you’d like.” He offered, and I felt him roll his thumb up and down my arm. “... And talk about how I dream of the day I won’t have to ask... I will just know exactly what I need to do or say to make you smile.”

I looked at his hand again. As my eyes fell on it, he gently squeezed my arm, then ran it down the length to my own hand. I didn’t even think; my wrist rotated, and he slid his palm over mine. I swallowed hard, trying to force my heart out of my throat and back into my chest where it belonged.

“... Is it working yet?”

“A-ah...I… I-I should…” I stammered uselessly.

I could hear his grin lacing his next words. “Well, I’ve gotten you flustered… That’s a start.” He traced his thin fingers up and down the lines of my palm. “... Can I ask you something?” I nodded numbly. “... Are you scared of me?”

I started slightly, my eyes jumping to his face in confusion. I met his ruby reds, watching me hesitantly. But his question seemed sincere, not teasing. I thought about it for a moment, then looked back at our hands.

“... No. Not… Well… Not of you...” I stopped, swallowing hard again. “I suppose… I am a little afraid of… umm…” He slowly continued to stroke up and down my palm soothingly. “I-I… I am… I am scared of… of… “ I sucked in a tight breath, and found that my hands shook. Grier’s fingers quickly wrapped themselves between mine, squeezing gently. “... Of getting hurt again…”

“... Again?” He breathed. But I pursed my lips, shaking my head. I couldn’t… I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t even think about it. He brought our hands to his chest, pressing the back of mine against his heart. “... I won’t hurt you… I can’t hurt you…” I managed to bring my eyes back to his. “Gods above, I-I can’t even begin to express…” His other hand came up, trailing along the collar of my tunic, skimming along the soft underside of my neck. “You are… so wonderfully... wonderful…” He laughed. “I think I got the better end of our bargain.” I shook my head, trying to look away, but he caught my cheek against his palm. “... Stay with me?”

My breath hitched. “... You’re drunk…”

He shrugged. “And if you try to leave now who knows where you’ll end up…. So just stay… stay here safe with me.”

I glanced over. “Perhaps the couch-”

“Here with me.” He said firmly, then quickly added; “Just to sleep.” After his promise his mischievous grin returned. “I’m far too besotted to try anything untoward… your virtue is safe, my young Prince.”

I choked on a laugh in my throat and shook my head. “I-it’s not exactly appropriate-”

He scoffed, squeezing my hand gently, still clasped to his bare chest. “I am King! I decide what’s ‘appropriate’.” His grin grew. “Besides, it’s not like we’d be crowded.”

I glanced over our shoulders at it, my heart thrumming in my ears, my breath quivering in my throat. “... I’m not sure why you have such a large bed… when you are so small.” I replied dryly.

Grier laughed loudly, rolling to his knees. The motion brought him precariously close, and my eyes widened as he kneeled on the bed next to me. I even had to tilt my head back slightly to look up at him. He skimmed the fingertips of his free hand along the edge of my jaw, the other still trapped against his breast, and I saw his scarlet eyes grow dangerously hot. I felt my blood rush, and tried to reconcile with the face that my tongue was suddenly far too large for my mouth.

“I can assure you... I am anything but small.”

I nearly knocked him off the bed as I jumped out of it, yanking my hand back from him and stumbling over my own feet as I scrambled to get them beneath me. I spun, facing him as if he might lunge after me, my hands raised defensively. I scrambled back a few steps and nearly fell over one of his boots. The goblin himself barely managed to catch himself at the edge of the bed, and stared at me in surprise as my face lit on fire and my eyes nearly popped out of my skull.

“Y-you...I-I-I don’t, We-ah, y-you, I-I mean uh, I mean-th-that’s not-” I tried unsuccessfully half a dozen times to form a sentence, and found my lips wholly inept for the task. Not to mention my mouth felt drier than a desert, and there was a frustrating large lump in my throat in the shape of my heart. My stomach flipped and twisted and a cold sweat broke out at the back of my neck.

Grier swung his legs out, staggering from the bed himself. Hands up, apologetic crooked smile in place. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to ah… startle you so…” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m afraid I got a bit carried away with the banter.”

I clamped my mouth shut, cringing and clasping my hands behind my back. Berating myself for my lost composure over a few simple words, but my head spun. I shook it, trying to level myself, yet felt my mind absolutely rioting with the notion. I felt my lips move, felt my tongue form shapes. But as my jaw refused to open, the sounds were chopped off at the source and I merely stood with my eyes darting wildly about. Looking for anything else to focus on other than the goblin standing in front of me.

“Well, while we are on the subject...” He began, putting his hands on his hips and looking me up and down. “What is it with humans and sex?” I nearly squeaked at the word. “Why are you so skittish about even hinting at it?”

I stammered and sputtered, then clamped my mouth shut again. It was no use. My lips and tongue just could not seem to coordinate with each other. I shook my head vehemently, opening my mouth then promptly closing it. Grier looked more amused than annoyed, and his fingers drummed on his hips. It seemed he wasn’t meaning to tease though, and was genuinely asking. I tried to take comfort in that, but found it not particularly possible.

“... Is it because you consider it… unclean perhaps?” He offered, and I swallowed hard. “Or do humans not find the same pleasure in it?” He frowned thoughtfully at that. “I would hope that is not the case.”

I shook my head, felt my mouth drop back open. A few sounds came out, and I cleared my throat. “I-it… it’s just… umm” I shifted and dropped my gaze to the floor. “I-it’s just… n-not… not talked about.”

“But why?” He pressed, taking a few steps closer.

I swallowed hard again, then cleared my throat. Stiffening as he swayed another pace. “We… I … Umm…” I shuffled again, eyes darting about, “It’s … I suppose we… ah… it’s… shameful… I guess…”

“Shameful?” He echoed, sounding confused. “Why?”

“Ah… um… Well, because… ah…” I was almost shaking, but somehow managed to remain on my feet. “It’s… vulgar and… personal… and�� because it…. Umm… Feels good…” I dropped into barely above a whisper at the end.

One slender brow raised. “You don’t talk about sex… because it’s shameful to do so… and it’s shameful… because it feels good?” His smile returned. “That makes no sense! What’s wrong with feeling good?”

It was a valid point, and I tried to focus on the philosophy of his question rather than the subject. Even as my mind provided copious amounts of related but very distracting thoughts on the matter. My eyes still darted about, and seeing this he had stopped his approach with a safe few strides still between us. Letting me calm myself once more.

“I-I’m… I’m not sure… Maybe… Maybe because… ah…” I dropped off and reached a shaking hand to rub at the back of my neck. “Well… we make ourselves feel guilty for… for enjoying ourselves… For indulging in… ”

He gave a deep ‘hmmm’ as I dropped off, rubbing at his face. His head tilted to the side, his hair falling wildly about him. “I suppose it would go along with how you never seem willing to be even remotely self-indulgent, and constantly feel the need to apologize for yourself.” I must have flinched because he quickly raised his hands. “It’s ok! I don’t mind… I just hope you realize you don’t have anything to apologize for… Especially if it makes you happy...”

I gave a small nod, settling my eyes off to the side again. We stood quietly for a moment, the tension trailing heavy fingers between us. I didn’t dare check to see if he was staring at me, in case our eyes accidentally met. My face was still flushed hot, and my collar itched from sweat.

“It’s late. I can barely stand anymore…” He said finally, his voice gentle, “If you want to sleep on the couch… I don’t mind… I want you to be comfortable... But…” He hesitated, “I would be happier if you felt safe enough to join me in my bed.” When I glanced at him out the corner of my eye, he gave me a small, wry grin. “I promise I’ll behave myself.”

I sighed, rubbing at the back of my neck again, still twitchy. It was late, and I was teetering on the edge of collapse myself. Not to mention the spasms in my chest from our conversation.

“... I’m not sure you’re capable of behaving yourself…” I muttered, perhaps a little grumpier than I intended, shuffling yet again.

His laugh was warming, and I felt a little tension ease with the sound of it. I peeked at him again, and his sharp toothed grin had my heart rate spiking. “Well, if you’d rather, perhaps I should sleep on the couch,” His lips twitched, “... Since I’m smaller.”

A soft, nervous laugh petered from my own lips, shaking and brief. But it made his grin grow even wider. I stiffened, glancing around again. Trying to sort through my own thoughts.

“...That wouldn’t be fair to kick you out of your own bed…” I mumbled.

“So does this mean I’ve convinced you?” He asked, playing for innocence. I lifted my eyes, watching him take a few ungraceful steps back and sit on the edge of the bed again.

“... I should probably just go back to my own rooms…” I replied, though my resolve sounded weak even to my own ears.

His chin bobbed lightly. “Should. Maybe. .. But will you?”

I hesitated again, and he slid back further into the bed, gesturing gently with one hand. I studied it, shifting from foot to foot. He waited patiently. I looked over his shoulder at the bed, and suddenly felt so very heavy and tired. My back ached, and my legs quivered beneath my weight. I blinked, remembering how good it felt to sleep.

My feet moved of their own accord, slowly, haltingly. Carrying me over to the side of the bed. Grier watched quietly as I slipped off my boots and slowly sat on the edge of the mattress. The hair on the back of my neck tingled, feeling his eyes. My fingers felt numb as I clumsily undid the buttons of my vest, then let it slide off.

When I turned, he was sliding back to the head of the far side of the bed. Pushing aside the blankets and shuffling down into them. I swallowed my nerves, scooching back myself and slowly pulling my legs up. I hesitated, my hand pulling at the starch collar of my tunic. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me without my shirt before, a small part of me reasoned. And while my trousers were comfortable enough to sleep in, I would be hard pressed to find a comfortable position with the tunic... My hands came up while my boldness lingered, reaching over my shoulders and tugging the fabric over my head. Goosebumps trailed over my skin as I gently folded the tunic and placed it on the bedside stand. I quietly lay down with my back to him, stiff as a board.

I felt the mattress shift, and turned my head slightly to see him sliding closer out of the corner of my eye just before his hands slowly rolled over the bare skin of my shoulders. I froze, my breath faltering as his warm palms traced lightly down my back, then up. Gently, his hands came up, cupping into the curve of my shoulder and giving a light tug. I obediently rolled to my back, letting out a shuddering sigh as my shoulders hit the soft blankets. Grier’s head was on the pillow next to mine, and I watched him quietly. His hand came to my chin, skimming his fingertips with a feather soft touch along my jaw. Lightly turning it to face him properly as he trailed them over its length, then following the curve of my neck. His fingers rose and fell with the lump in my throat as I swallowed nervously.

I watched his face, even as his scarlet eyes seemed to be tracing over the rest of mine. I watched his attention move down the length of my neck, his fingers mirroring his gaze, then across my collarbone. Coming to a rest on my sternum. His eyes flicked up to meet mine then, and I searched them hesitantly. They were filled with warmth, and a tenderness that made my heart skip. I wondered if he could feel the missed beat beneath his fingertips. He shifted a little closer, and sighed deeply. I could see him slowly relaxing, and somehow… the sight had me relaxing too.

Grier traced his index finger up and down first my sternum, then my collarbone. It was entrancing, and I felt myself relax incrementally more with his soothing touch. His lids drooped lazily, but his eyes remained stubbornly open. Moving from my face to watch my chest rise and fall with whisperingly shy little breaths. I was stuck watching those scarlet eyes, the way he blinked languidly every few minutes, each one a little heavier than the last. I memorized the way his wild strands of wheat hued locks fell haphazardly across his forehead and heavy brow, with a few long strands trickling past his ear and down his neck. I considered the shape of the edge of his jaw, and the relaxed curl of his lips.

I didn’t realize I was staring with my mouth slightly parted until his hand came back up, cupping my chin. I closed my lips, but couldn’t keep my gaze from flicking to his. I turned, rolling onto my side to better face him. He closed the gap left by my movement, leaving only a ghost of space between us. Whenever he breathed his skin brushed against mine, and I shivered at the sensation. His hand trailed back down, over my shoulder, and I moved my arm beneath his touch. Flexing the muscles so that as his hand skimmed its length to mine, I could turn it and feel the pads of his fingers whisper against my own. He glanced down at our hands, then rebounded and traced his way back up my arm to my shoulder. My own hand lingered where he had left it between us, then slowly reached out. Flattening against his own shoulder.

He was so warm… And his skin was firm, with a texture as if almost beveled, but barely discernible. I brushed my palm over the crook of his neck, lingering for a moment with my thumb on the apple of his throat. His eyes closed fully as I continued up, cupping the sharp edge of his jaw against my palm. I stared for a moment, the way his grey-green skin seemed more vibrant against mine, the way my own color seemed warmer… I slid closer, leaning over and running my hand back to bury my fingers in the thick mess of hair at the base of his skull.

He parted his lips slightly as I pressed mine to them, and I relished the faint hint of liquor lingering there. I felt his breath flutter against me, and felt my own eyes droop shut. His hand lingered on my chest, his thumb tracing thoughtfully small circles. I felt his mouth open against mine, and responded in turn, reaching out tentatively with my tongue to dance around the tip of his. I could almost hear the click in his jaw as he opened it more, straining closer, and deeper. I welcomed his tongue, feeling it trace around the inside of my mouth. It was longer than mine, which could barely reach the edge of his front teeth. I lightly flicked it at the points of his incisors, curious, but felt heat growing in my core as his tongue skimmed my molars and the side of my cheeks.

Grier pulled away a little then, his tongue slipping back. I was surprised to find myself following him, unwilling to part yet. Wanting to keep the taste of him longer. His sharp teeth pricked my bottom lip as he bit it gently to still my pursuit and a breathy gasp escaped me before I could catch it. He sprung forward at the sound, like a predator unable to resist the fleeing prey, locking our mouths back together. His hand slid up my chest, scooping the back of my neck and pressing me fervently against him. Suddenly tasting less of liquor and more of hunger, hot and burning in my mouth. And I drank deep of his craving, feeding my own as I slid closer, pressing our bodies together. His arm pinned against the bed came up to catch my neck and hold me against him, freeing his other to roam down to my waist. I could feel the muscles of his arm flex against me as his fingers gripped at my side, then grabbed at the small of my back. His own smaller body writhing against mine.

All too suddenly, he pulled us apart again, shaking himself. I found myself winded and breathy, my eyes reluctantly opening and releasing me from whatever spell I had fallen under.

“I promised I would behave myself.” He breathed, and I nearly leaned in to catch those words directly from his lips with my own.

A shiver ran down my spine as his scarlet eyes flicked up to meet mine. “.... I don’t think you’re doing a good job proving that...”

He laughed lightly, pressing his hand firmly into the small of my back. I barely managed to keep my breath from shuddering with that, and was glad when he rolled it back to the relative safety of my shoulder.

“You can hardly plead innocence.” He murmured, his thumb coming across my lips. “I swear… your lips are like a drug…”

I would have turned away to hide from the implication of his words, but held still beneath his touch for a moment. Letting him trace back and forth over the features of my face. I let my hand trail from the thicket of his hair to his ear, thumbing the gems piercing the cartilage there.

“... Since I’m misbehaving already…” He mused, then straightened, propping himself on one elbow to look down at me. I eyed him warily. “...I’m dying to know. Then I swear I’ll leave you alone for the night.... Have you ever…?”

He let the question hang, and I felt the blood quickly rush to my face as I realized his intent. I shifted, letting my hand slide down to rest on his collarbone. Swallowing hard.

“.... Once.” I mumbled uncomfortably.

He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “...With another man?” I nodded, not meeting his gaze. “... I thought humans…?”

I shook my head. “No… not… not openly.” A shaky sigh evaded my defenses, and I felt him lean a little closer, rubbing his thumb against me gently. “It was… I had thought…”

I dropped off, my voice broken, and he didn’t pry. I felt his lips against my temple, and my eyelids drooped. Feeling strangely comforted by the touch, especially as his hand came up to caress my cheek. I turned into his palm, and breathed in the scent of him. Not that I had lost it once since I had come to his chambers… the place was heavy with his presence. I let myself be completely enveloped in it, closing my eyes again.

“... I’ve had many lovers,” He confessed softly against my ear, “Men and women.”

I nodded slowly. “I know.”

Grier pulled away and I felt him settle back onto the pillow beside me. “... Does it bother you?”

“No.” I didn’t even have to pause to think about that, opening my eyes to meet his.

He studied me for a moment, and saw his lips twitch. “I’m… a little surprised. I thought you might be … off put. Being that I have lain with both...”

“... Would you want to take a... a lover?”

I felt his hand at my cheek tighten, and he vehemently shook his head. “No. Not anymore…” His touch gentled, and his eyes grew softer. “Just you…”

“Then it doesn’t bother me.”

He smiled, running his hand down to trace his thumb along my lips. I watched his scarlet eyes study them for a moment. “... Would you?”

I shook my head, feeling his hand move with it. “... Just you.”

He nodded, his smile growing. “That… makes me very happy…” He shifted, glancing away. “I’ve never… well… I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face… And I’m not the type to just…” He glanced back at me sheepishly, “Suffice it to say, I had those who were willing stay and keep me company for some time. And I enjoyed each relationship… But…” He shifted again, hiding beneath his wild hair. “They’ve never… I have never…” The goblin hesitated, and I waited patiently, curious despite myself. “... This feels different.” He stared at my chest, running his fingertips slowly over the edges of my muscles. “This feels… better.”

I tucked my fingers back into the deep locks of his hair. My head swirled and felt thick with exhaustion. But I nodded back sleepily. “...It does.”

Grier shifted closer, tucking his face against my neck. I would have stiffened in surprise, but could already feel sleep tugging insistently at my senses. And gods, he was just so wonderfully warm…

…..

The knocking roused me. I would have sat bolt upright, but was weighed down by the goblin who had apparently entangled himself with me. His arms wrapped as far around me as they could reach, his legs folded and half tucked between mine. Curled to bury his head deep into my torso. I stared at him in shock, trying to get my bearings, then jumped as the knocking sounded again.

“Your- ah…. G-Grier,” I hissed softly, not quite sure what to do with my hands now that I was awake and letting them extend awkwardly out in front of me. The knock came again, and I craned my neck as if I would be able to see who was at the door. “Grier!” I said, more insistently.

A grumble answered me, and to my horror the King merely burrowed deeper against my bare chest. I almost sighed exasperatedly, but jumped in a near panic as the knock came again. Sounding much more urgent this time. My face burned at the thought of being discovered like this; entangled in the bedsheets with … well, he was my betrothed. By human standards, it would be outright scandalous. But… I wasn’t sure if the goblins would care… or if I did anymore, for that matter...

At the fifth knock, louder than the previous, I could stand it no more. I untangled myself from Grier, pushing his hands away as he tried to wrap himself back around me. Like prickle vines, where you free yourself from one and find another attached. As soon as I managed to mostly free myself though, he gave another grumbling sound and rolled back over. Embedding his face into the pillows. I shook my head, scrambling to my feet and over to the foyer. Nearly tripping over his clutter as I did. I scowled at it, glancing back over my shoulder. But the King seemed unperturbed by the final knock, nor by my escape from his clutches. Blissfully unaware and happily burrowed into his bed.

I hesitated momentarily with my hand on the door. Debated simply hiding somewhere and hoping whomever was on the other side knew the King well enough to either give up or just enter. And then hopefully I would remain unnoticed and be able to sneak back to my chambers… I sighed, shaking my head. Yanking the door open before I could lose my nerve.

If Hibik was surprised that I was the one who answered the door, he did a good job of hiding it. He gave me a quick polite bow, and I carefully kept my torso screened by the door.

“Your Highness, there are visitors waiting on the main floor.”

I blinked, a bit confused. “For Gri-Ah, I mean, the King?”

He shook his head, glancing nervously about. “For both of you… They are emissaries of the human court.”

I stiffened, my mind suddenly racing. Emissaries? Here? I had received no word… It was highly unorthodox for us to send people unannounced. Unless.. unless there was some sort of emergency, where there was no time to send word ahead...

“Did they say why?”

He shook his head. “No, Your Highness. They would speak only with you and the King.”

Dread filled my chest, and I nodded to him in a daze. My head spun like a top and numbness was tingling at the ends of my extremities. I glanced over my shoulder. Debating if I had time to go back to my chambers. It pained me that the first thought was not to run to speak with them, but to compose myself. Lest my people think less of me. I was forced to make myself presentable before I could deal with whatever urgent business they had. I gritted my teeth at the ridiculousness of it, my stomach somersaulting as the possibilities raced through my head.

“Send Seoc with some fresh clothes for me, if you please, then see to our guests,” I told him, my voice tight, “I’ll… try to wake the King.”

Hibik gave me a sympathetic look. “Yes, Your Highness. Of course.” He bowed his head, then darted off.

I closed the door behind him, a cloud settling around my head and nerves wrapping tighter around my stomach. After a delayed moment, I turned and picked my way back to the bedroom.

“...Your Majesty?” I called, lingering in the doorway. Suddenly almost afraid to pass the threshold. But he didn’t answer. “... Grier.” I tried, a little louder.

A grunt this time. I waited, thinking there would be more. When nothing followed, I gritted my teeth, and forced myself across the room. Still in a haze. I stopped at the edge of the bed, looking down at his bare back, half buried in the blankets.

“Y-....G-Grier.” I said again. When he didn’t answer, I even went so far as to reach out and touch his shoulder lightly. “Grier… There are emissaries here to see us.”

He shifted, and I stepped back, thinking he was about to sit up. But he just rolled a little, then heaved a sigh and settled into the mattress again. I pushed his shoulder more forcefully, starting to get a little frustrated. And more than a little apprehensive. My thoughts still racing, my heart thundering in my ears. He grunted, and even swatted my hand away.

“Gr-”

“I don’t care. Tell them to come back later.” His grumpy voice was thick with sleep and muffled beneath the pillows.

My hands were shaking now, and I shoved him again. “Grier!” I demanded, and cut myself short when I choked over the end of his name.

Red eyes emerged sharply from somewhere amid the blankets at the break in my voice, eyebrows arched above. I must have forgotten to clear the emotion threatening to swallow me from my face, because whatever he saw there had him quickly sitting up. My mouth opened to speak, but even before I could he was before me. Kneeling at the edge of the bed and cupping my face in his palms.

“What’s the matter??”

The surprise and alarm in his voice hurt, breaking my composure even more, and I brought shaking hands up to catch his wrists. If I had thought to pull his hands away, I would have struggled; he kept his grip like iron, though somehow still gentle. I found I didn’t have the strength to remove them anyways; emotionally or physically. I would have shook my head, but he held me still. My lips flapped uselessly for a second and I looked everywhere but his face.

“... The emissaries are from the human court.” I told him, and knew more than a little of my distress leaked into my tone. I swallowed hard and clenched my jaw. I looked down, trying to shake my head again but captured by his strong hands. “... They didn’t send word… Something… Something must be wrong-”

“Ok. It’s ok.” He ran his thumbs under my eyes, and I finally dared to look up at him. The sight of his scarlet eyes, warm and comforting, soothed me, and I managed to take a shuddering breath. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Ok? We’ll be alright.”

I was beginning to shake in my rising panic. “... Do you think... What if something… “ My voice broke again. My lips moved, trying to find the words I didn’t have the strength to speak.

Grier rested his forehead against mine, and I felt his breath splash against my cheeks. “Morgana is fine.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to swallow my heart before it choked me. “I’m sure of it. Everything will be fine.”

“I should have kept her with me.” I snapped, anger mixing with my fear. “I should have brought her here, damn that bloody…” I stopped, letting out a sharp breath. “I swear… if anything happened to her…”

He shook his head. “We’ll bring her here.” He promised. “We’ll keep her safe. But this may not be about her.” He rubbed his palm gently against my jaw. “Let’s see why they are here. Then we’ll go from there, ok?”

I hesitated, then nodded slowly. Feeling my panic begin to subside. “Y-you’re right… I’m sorry I-I-”

“Don’t apologize.” He ordered, sitting back on his ankles. “I’m here for you. In whatever capacity you need me.” A teasing smile split his lips. “Even if it is too damn early.”

I was too anxious to laugh, but felt a little better for his words. I jumped at the light knock at the door. “That’ll be Seoc; I sent for some fresh clothes.”

Grier nodded. “Let me get dressed too. Then we’ll go see what they want.”

I returned his nod, composing myself and striding quickly over to the door. Within the half hour, we were both dressed and following Seoc down to the lower levels. I fretted with the hem of my vest, tugging it straight more than once as we moved. Impatient and anxious but carefully building up the steel mask and stiff shoulders. I noticed Grier shooting me looks out the corners of his eyes, but couldn’t bear to return one. One emotional upheaval at a time, I reasoned. I felt numb, as if I was walking through a dizzying fog, and none of this was real. Dread dug cold fingers into my spine, dragging me down.

Hibik was waiting, and opened the door ahead of us, bowing low as we passed then pulling it closed. I stiffened as the latch clunked, resisting the urge to scowl at the sight that greeted me in the small private side room off the main hall. It certainly didn’t lessen the tension in my spine.

“Sir Gareth.” I greeted him flatly as he turned to face me, a small scowl on his own face. And was for once pleased that formalities required a cold edge. “And by whose authority do you dare come unannounced-”

“By mine.” Came another voice, deep and powerful, from the second occupant of the room who had his cowl pulled low to obscure his face where he sat by the fire.

I almost took a step back, barely managing to keep my eyes from widening in surprise at the familiar voice as the man stood. He swept his hood back, revealing fair skin and neatly short-cropped gold-blonde hair set atop a squared face. His gaze flicked to Grier briefly before meeting mine. And it was my own eyes that stared back at me, or more… our father’s eyes.

“Crown Prince Valerianus...” I breathed, forgetting myself for a moment in my shock.

My older brother nodded to me tightly. “Prince Nikostratus.” His brow became dark, and he squared his shoulders, tucking his hands behind his back. “... We need to talk.”

....

UPDATE: Part eight is HERE

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