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couchpotatoaniki · 3 years

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The Queen’s Consort

You love him dearly, but a servant cannot marry their Queen. Luckily, you’re not one to give up so easily, despite what others might think.

Pairing: Servant!Namjoon x Queen!Reader Genre: Royal AU, ‘Secret’ lovers AU, fluff, slight angst Warnings: smoking, swearing, mentions of misogyny Loosely based off: I’m a bit of a history nerd, so this is a weird fantasy mash-up of the reigns of the English Tudor Queens, Mary I and Elizabeth I Word count: 4.5k+

Pungent smells of rose perfume and sweet vanilla filled the room, a cloud of cigar smoke mixing in occasionally as it lay in the atmosphere.

You exhaled after another puff, feeling the tension in your muscles ease with every deep breath. Namjoon drank the sight of you, eyes closed, head tilted back, light grey smoke escaping past your puckered lips.

No matter how many times he sees this, he thinks, he won’t ever get used to it. Normally seeing you in tight corsets, confining gowns, adorned in pretty, expensive things.

But this picture of you is the prettiest.

No fancy makeup, no fancy jewellery, no fancy dresses.

Just you, in a plain nightgown as you smoked a cigar that lay loosely between your fingers, the firelight flickering across your glowing skin (blemished from the years of stress and fighting, but gorgeous nonetheless), and occasionally taking sips from whatever alcohol was in your chalice.

Today was whiskey.

As inappropriate as it is, you never minded him seeing you this unguarded. It was your time to unwind, and Namjoon helped you do just that.

In this room of paintings, you two sat on velvety golden chairs in front of the roaring fireplace and let go of the day’s troubles.

The real world was just on the other side of the door, a twist of the brass doorknob and you two would revert back to a Queen and her servant.

But in here...

In here, in this sanctuary, you were you and Namjoon was Namjoon.

Staff and all those who worked within the palace grounds knew exactly what the two of you were. How much you two meant to each other.

Whispers went about but neither of you paid much heed, even if it caused more than its fair share of trouble at times.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Namjoon asked, noticing how your relaxed brow returned to it’s familiar scrunched-up look.

Chuckling, you kept your eyes closed as you exhaled once more. “You know very well I don’t need money.”

“Okay then,” he huffed, “a kiss for your thoughts?”

One eye opened at his proposition, brow above it quirking as you smirked. “Holding those lips hostage, now?”

A large hand enveloped one of yours, giving it a tight squeeze as he sported a lopsided grin of his own. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

You loved seeing him smile, trying to etch the curve of his lips, the dip of his cupid’s bow, the two tiny valleys of dimples.

Using the thumb if your other hand, which had placed the dying cigar on a nearby glass ashtray, you caressed the knuckles of Namjoon’s hand. “Nothing, my love. Just the same as last week.”

The muscular man leaned in closer, whispering faintly in your ear, “and remind me of what that would be...”

His breath smelled of the exotic fruits he just finished eating and all you wanted to do was see how many you could taste on his tongue.

“How much I love my country,” you teased with a sly look, something you loved to do, and you knew that he did too. Probably why his lips lingered over yours, barely brushing together, and before you could kiss him properly, Namjoon abruptly pulled away.

Sat back in his seat, the taller man chuckled at your rouge cheeks and furrowed brow. “I promised you a kiss, only if you told me what you were really thinking.”

As much as you cared him, what had been lingering in your mind was not something he should know yet. Not how stressed you were, not how your advisors had pressed for you to marry someone soon and sire an heir, now that you were of age.

While one faction--led by Seokjin and Jimin, the Secretary of State and Lord Treasurer respectively--had pushed for you to marry the sole Astopian Prince, Jungkook, another faction of advisors (led by Hoseok, the Captain of the Royal Guard, and Taehyung, the Lord Chamberlain) wanted you to marry a noble from the country you govern.

These were you’re most trusted and efficient advisors, but the headaches they have been giving you make you dread to think of how much worse it would be with others in their position instead of them.

Sure, you’ve met the Prince who hails from the Jeon dynasty that has ruled the Astopian Peninsula for many centuries. Conquering copious amounts of land despite not being coronated yet. An over-talented man with an ego too big for you to handle.

Safe to say you weren’t a fan of the idea of being tied to the childish person.

And then the nobility...

All those beasts wanted were two things: the jewelled crown on your head and the golden throne you occupy.

It was one of the reasons why the advisors were so pushy lately--people wanted your strength and your nation, and with no direct legitimate heir, your position became more unstable.

It was shown when you had to squash rebellions to overthrow you with a distant cousin or half-sibling you had no idea existed until you heard of their claim to the throne.

Either Father sure was promiscuous or they did well to cover their lies.

But there was only one man right for you, and he was happily tasting the strawberries you had requested just for him. Servants couldn’t get the quantity or quality of food of your palette. Filled your heart to see him try all the things your taste buds had now grown used to.

“May I lay with you? Just for a little while?”

He didn’t ask why. He didn’t need to.

Not because you were his Queen, but because he understood you. Knew you had more weight on your shoulders than any other in the country.

So Namjoon did what he he could to ease the burden, letting you lay your head on his chest once you both moved to your bed. Calloused fingertips, rough from a hard day’s work, brushed between silky strands of hair that cascaded down.

“Namjoon…” You could feel his hum vibrating through his chest as he continued to run his finger through your locks, gently untangling them. “Would you marry me?”

If he was shocked from your sudden question, he did not show it.

In fact, he wasn’t surprised at all. Despite how well you were trying to keep it from him--he would have to commemorate you for your efforts--he was still a part of the servants workforce. And servants talk.

“If we could... then yes.” His lips pressed against your scalp for a sweet kiss, mumbling, “would marry you in a heartbeat.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I love you.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough for a marriage to work.”

Namjoon knew what you meant. A classic example of this case would be your parents, the previous King and the late Queen. Your mother slandered for being unable to bare any healthy children save for you, the rest of them unable to live past five years of age.

Their marriage was one of love, you had heard, but after her complicated fertility issues and the pressure of a nation on their heads, things turned sour.

You saw how two loving parents become bitter and died cursing each other with their last breaths.

“You’re right... but we’ve been able to work together well before we fell in love. We’re familiar with each other, how the other works. Their needs and wants. I won’t let us end up as a heap of melted wax, our passion and care for each other burnt out. And I know for a fact you won’t either.”

You heard him through the rumbles in his chest, finding the warmth of both his body and his words comforting to you.

“Be mine and mine only,” you muttered as your lids grew heavy, shutting from exhaustion.

Noticing this immediately, Namjoon chuckled to himself.

“As if I was made for anyone else.”

“--and make sure to increase the taxes on the fishermen in certain areas of the coast as well as lessen them in others. I hear the marine life is becoming scarce these days along the eastern seaboard and to replenish it, we should encourage the fishermen to avoid those areas of concern.”

“Yes, your majesty. That sounds like an excellent solution,” Seokjin said, though not at all surprised you came up with it (even if it sounds simple when you say it out loud). To him--as well as the rest of your court--you did more than an exceptional job at governing your state.

You were the best monarch they had seen in a very long time.

Only, there was one issue, and you were well aware of it.

Breathing slowly, you looked at your council, dreading the words you were going to say next, because the touchy topic was going to be brought up sooner or later.

“Is there anything else on our agenda today?”

The Lord Chamberlain cleared his throat. “Other than the daily workload, there is only one matter left for discussion, your majesty.”

“And what would that be, Taehyung?” you sighed, slight hint of sarcasm laced in the tired tone you spoke in.

“Your marriage.” Seeing you roll you eyes only fired him up more. “You really need to decide! Do you want to completely secure your throne?”

“What about marriage is so important that my throne is insecure without it?” you burst out, not being able to hold in your frustration. “There have been Kings in the past who have lived their entire reign in peace without tying the knot with another, so why me?!”

“Because your a Queen, not a King!” Jimin yelled back, his old habits of arguing with you while you two were younger beginning to kick in. “We all know you’re more than capable of of ruling by yourself, but others still have their old-fashioned way of thinking! They believe that without a legitimate heir from you, your throne is theirs for the taking!”

Hoseok rested his hand on the red-faced man’s shoulder, pushing him back down in his seat from which he left as he argued with you. “What we’re trying to say, your majesty, is that the world’s attitudes are years behind ours. They’ll keep coming for your head if you don’t produce a legitimate heir, and the only way you can do that is if you marry.”

Grunting with frustration, you stormed out of the room, rushing to your bedchambers.

Felt lightheaded. From the advisors, from the world, for the corset restricting your breathing. Too many thoughts rushing through your head, you didn’t see Namjoon following behind you with concern hidden beneath a blank expression.

It was only until you stopped to open the door to your bedchambers did you realise he was right behind you. “Leave me to rest,” you spoke firmly, remembering to maintain the roles of servant and Queen even if you two were at the boundary of sanctuary.

Wanting to say more but being unable to have the freedom to say it while you both were in the doorway, Namjoon simply sighed and stood outside as you closed the door on his face.

Threw yourself on the bed, hoping for some miracle that will allow you to knock out there and then.

First, you needed to breathe. You needed air into your lungs to stop the dizziness.

“In... Out...” You hear someone speaking from your mind, louder, yet more soothing than the rest. Namjoon’s deep voice lulling you from a past memory.

“In... Out...” You followed as instructed, listening to his advise to settle your pounding heart.

“In... Out,” you repeated alongside his voice in your head, finding your beating organ relax bit by bit until it returned to normal.

Squeaking of the hinges had not brought you out of the trance you were in, but the dip in your bed under a person’s weight did.

“Don’t mind me,” Yoongi said as he lay beside you, his arms crossed behind his head, “your servant let me in.”

“Of course he did,” you smiled. Namjoon knew that if he was not allowed to comfort you, then someone else would have to in his stead--and there was no one better than the Foreign Secretary.

Yoongi--like some of your councillors--had grown up with you. He knew you like the back of his pale hand, and he was the only advisor you completely trusted.

Others had lost that level in pursuit of their own ambitions; he was the only one who fought against you appointing him for his role, wanting to stay in the shadows--something he had grown accustomed to.

Only when you explained that his real job would be your Spymaster did he agree. It was the shadows he was used to, and you weren’t going to fully rip him away from his comfort zone.

After a few minute of laying side by side in silence, you began to spill your thoughts.

“No one has any idea how painful this position is. Nor how bothersome getting the throne was in the first place. Now they want me to marry and relinquish my power after everything I had sacrificed to get and maintain it. Want nobles and Princes that would just overrule me and ruin this nation I brought back from the ashes like a phoenix.”

Attempting to gulp down the lump rising in your throat, you just couldn’t stop.

“After the shitshow my parents and my forefathers had turned this place into, I returned it to it’s rightful glory. It became a mythical beast because of my efforts, and now they demand I marry a man who would mistreat me and my people, as if we were mere deer or rabbits rather than powerful, fiery birds of the sun.”

Silent tears rolled down the sides of your face, the muffled drops on the sheet being the only sound indicating to your advisor that you were indeed crying since his eyes were closed.

“What do I do, Yoongi?” you begged in a small voice, not to an official of your court but your childhood friend. “How can I marry someone who cares more for power than they do for me? More than my people? How could I marry when the whole of my heart belongs to another?”

“Well, that’s easy,” he replied--already knowing exactly who you were talking about--not even opening his eyes as you turned you head to see him, awaiting his explanation. “Just marry the person your heart belongs to.”

Glaring at him, you spat, “if it was that easy, don’t you think I would have done it already?”

“Don’t lash out at me like you did to Taehyung and Jimin. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You’re my advisor and you fail to give me advise--”

“I just did--”

“Advise that I can use.”

Opening one eye, he looked at your annoyed face. “I told you before that I didn’t want to be an advisor.”

“Well I couldn’t just let you stay in the gardens your entire life. You need people skills, and to do that, you need to socialise with things that can actually speaks,” you threw your arms up, gesturing to nothing in particular just to emphasis your point, tears dried. “Besides, I prefer your company and council over the rest.”

Yoongi was not one for taking compliments--it was an unusual and unfamiliar task for him, especially if it didn’t come from you--so he stayed silent from the next few minutes.

“Who said it? That you can’t marry the person you love?”

You snorted at his stupid comment. “Everyone, Yoongi. Everyone.”

“Really?” He clicked his tongue. “That’s strange. I’ve never heard anyone say those words to you directly, and I’m the Spymaster.” He saw how you gnawed on your lip, eroding away the ruby lipstick until you finally got what he said.

Rapidly propping your body on your elbow, you snapped your face to look at him. “Are you suggesting I just marry who I want anyway?”

“Well, yeah, that is what I said at the start.”

Sent him a pointed look. “You know there’s gonna be a lot of opposition.”

“So? You’ll face opposition if you choose one faction over the other. You already face it daily anyway, so I don’t see the point in fretting over it. At least this way, you can live your life with the person you love the most.”

For the first time during the entire conversation, Yoongi’s face softened as he sat up with you, taking your hands in his as a comforting gesture. They weren’t Namjoon’s hands--certainly weren’t as big or warm--but they did the trick.

“Listen, the only reason they’re pushing for a marriage with a nobleman or a foreign prince is because they want to milk this opportunity for all it can be. An advantageous marriage, that’s all they’re looking for.”

“But their main issue can simply be resolved with an heir.”

“Exactly. You can have a legitimate heir with the person you love, regardless of his status. All you have to do is marry him.”

Bursts of happiness bloomed in you, showing your smile and rosy cheeks, in your thumping heart and rushing blood. Unable to contain it, you pounced on your old friend. “God bless you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Don’t thank me,” he chuckled, with his own ruddy cheeks, “Besides, I never approved of those half-baked fools they offered to you. Especially Prince Jungkook.”

Releasing him from your tight hold, you looked at him fondly. “Would’ve been a pain in my ass if I really had married him.”

“Mine too,” he shuddered at the thought, “Rather have someone I know marry you than an arrogant stranger that I have to learn how to speak respectfully to.”

“You should be used to it!” You lightly hit his arm. “You’re the Foreign Secretary! It’s your job to talk to arrogant strangers.”

“And I dread every meeting,” he grimaced.

“...so it would be wise to change the systems in the areas that are being raided. For those most at risk, use all you can to protect our citizens. Place more guards and use stronger, more-resistant building materials for reconstruction, and also see if you can build an underground shelter for the people to take refuge in, stocked with supplies.”

“Wonderful, your majesty,” Seokjin said, scribbling down what you said in his little notebook. “We’ll begin that immediately.”

“Good,” you said, leaning back in your chair, which was significantly bigger and fancier than the others. “Is there,” you sighed, still not ready for the conversation to come. “Is there anything else on today’s agenda?”

“You know very well what we’re going to say, your majesty.” Your eyes landed on Jimin, who was much more calmer than last week.

“Yes, I know.” Briefly, your eyes shot to Yoongi, who was sat opposite to you on the large, round, spruce table. Puff of air pushed out of your lungs as you cracked your knuckles as a way to release the tension in your fingers. “How about this? State your cases; who you nominate to be my husband...”

Taehyung was smart, so he caught your hesitation. ��But..?”

“But I have conditions of my own. Two, to be exact. Nothing exactly difficult.”

Hoseok scratched his head, feeling somewhat happy you’re not avoiding this topic as usual but also slightly suspicious.

“You main argument for me to get married is so I can have a legitimate heir, right?” Mumbles of agreement erupted around the room. “Good. So my first condition would be that whoever I marry won’t be King, they will be my consort.”

“But that’s unorthodox,” Seokjin piped in, more as if it was a passing thought than a counter-point.

“So would you rather me marry and then be overruled?” Your brow quirked, challenging them. Standing, you looked around, leaning your weight on the hands on the table.

“All of us here know that I am more than capable of ruling--you even said it yourself, Jimin. I know I can handle the weight of the country on my shoulders. Have been since I was 15, and I won’t allow some officious idiot ruin what I’ve build from the ground up.”

None of the advisors said another word on the matter since they knew you were right. Their Queen knew the country inside-out and having another person who had less experience or was not so familiar with the customs of the nation become more powerful was certainly a recipe for disaster.

“Very well,” Seokjin muttered. “Your second condition, your majesty?”

“This one may be a bit more challenging for you to follow, but it is just as important as the last.”

“And that is...?” Hoseok pried.

“After I choose, there will be no arguing. The monarch’s word is final and you should treat it as such. Once the decision is made, all of you--regardless of personal opinions--will have to greet the Consort with respect since they will become a part of the Royal Family.”

Carefully crafted words made the others oblivious to your plan. All but Yoongi.

“I think it’s safe to say that we all agree to your quite reasonable conditions, don’t we?” Taehyung looked around the room to see if anyone would object to his statement and, luckily, no one did.

Sitting back down on your seat with a silent groan, you waved your hand to signal the start of the debate. “Finish this matter by noon.”

With no further need for delay, the talks began. Seokjin, Jimin, and a few others opted for Prince Jungkook on the basis that he held power and knowledge, while trade and relations between the two countries would be much better.

An argument that you could handle without being married to him by simply being his friend and whatnot--but you of course kept this to yourself.

Various others began to offer you more local choices of husbands; lords, earls, dukes and the like. Hoseok and Taehyung both wished for the Duke of Lysia as he held a lot of support from the people, understanding of the country and culture and had retainers for your army should you need them.

It was as if they had forgotten you had no need for more love from your people since almost every single one already supported you. Also letting the fact that it would be treason if the Duke didn’t raise his retainers for your army upon your orders slip their minds.

But as the two sides died down, you looked at your Foreign Secretary. “You’ve been awfully quite, Min. Do you have someone’s name to put forth?”

“Yes, I do, your majesty,” he said quietly, appearing to be uninterested but you knew better.

Chuckling beneath your breath at his coldness, though never letting the smile become visible, you cocked a brow. “And who would that be?”

“Kim Namjoon. Your personal servant.”

“This is preposterous!” Jimin yelled, slamming his fist on the polished spruce.

You lifted your hand up to silence the Lord Treasurer, glaring eyes reminding him of your second condition before returning to question Yoongi. “On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that you both love each other.” He tilted his head to the side, yawning.

“Also on the grounds that he too is familiar with the royal customs and culture of this country, not to mention that he normally overhears what goes on in important meetings--excluding this one, of course. You confide in him and he has never broken your trust, despite how well he is within the servants--who often tend to chatter amongst themselves. He knows the ins and outs of the place and already unofficially aids you in decision-making.”

He licked his lips. “And, most importantly, he is fertile so you can sir a legitimate heir.”

“But what about his lack of power?” the Captain of the Royal Guard countered.

“He knows how to move with the people. The lad keeps his ear close to ground and is smarter than he looks. Besides, none of this matters since he’ll be a consort anyway, not a King.” Yoongi lazily shot back, killing Hoseok’s argument.

Silence grew over the room as each pair of eyes looked in your direction, already knowing the decision deep in their hearts. “A five minute recess is required.”

The advisors all stood as you did, only taking their seats again once you had left the room and the double oak doors shut behind you.

“How was the meeting, your majesty? Was awfully long this time. Any difficulties?” Namjoon enquired, not knowing what exactly went on.

Without answering him, you walked to a nearby empty room, with him trailing just behind. Turning on your heel, you held his arms, intensely looking in his eyes. “Did you mean it? When you said you would marry me if you could?”

Knowing that the two of you were hidden in a temporary haven, he gazed lovingly at you, caressing your cheek with his rough hands that only seemed to sooth you. “Of course I did, my love.”

“And if I could make that happen? Today? What would you say?”

As if he ate multiple salted crackers, Namjoon found his mouth dry up instantly. “What?”

Seeing his hesitation, you fought back the bad thoughts, the lump in your throat, the storm brewing in your stomach. “What would you say?” you pressed again, much harder than last time.

“I-I...I can’t.”

Tears tried to spring into your eyes, the sheer willpower you had to stop them from showing made your eyes burn. “Why?” Your tone turned stiff and stone-cold. He hated that--hearing you talk to him without emotion.

“Because it would mean I would have to become King. Although I want to lessen the burden you carry by your lonesome, I can’t take away the power you fought so hard to keep. Can’t be a ruler this nation and you deserve.”

Water began to spill as you closed your eyes, a sigh of relief escaping past your lips as your legs gave out under you. Luckily Namjoon was there to catch you. Lifted you from the ground and place you gently on a nearby chair. “You should really explain before you finish.”

His brows furrowed, kneeling down in front of you as he looked up to see your soft smile that had his heart beating just a fraction faster. “Should know better than to doubt my love for you at this point,” Namjoon whispered against the cold skin of your hands that he held in his own warmer ones.

Chortling lightly, you leaned to rest your forehead against his. “I really should, shouldn’t I?” Biting the lower flesh of your lip, you continued. “Would you reconsider if I said you’d only be my consort? Not a King?”

Could feel his lips stretch into a smile as it was still pressed against your knuckles. “If that’s the case, then definitely.”

“Good,” you grinned, standing up as you noticed the time on the clock. Wiping away the tears, you checked to see if you were decent in one of the mirrors.

Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, you kissed his cheek. “Time to tell them my decision.”

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bard-llama · 3 years

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WiP Wednesday: Rorveth, Isendain, AND Thronebreaker Snippets + Some Headcanons

I couldn’t decide what to do for WiP Wednesday, so uh... have lots of stuff! We’ve got an Iorveth/Roche snippet, an Isengrim/Eldain snippet, a Throne3 (Meve/Reynard/Gascon) snippet AND a little bit about some Thronebreaker headcanons me and @moonlights-ordinance came up with today.

Iorveth/Roche:

This is the beginning of an angsty fic wherein Iorveth pines and finds out some unpleasant news. The actual plot of the fic is Iorveth trying to get rid of his feelings, but we’re not there yet.

Iorveth really should’ve known that this day was destined to be hellish the moment that he was jolted from his paperwork daze by the rambunctious shouts of his Scoia’tael outside his office. He sighed, scrubbing his hands down his face, then checking that his bandana covered his scar properly. Only after that did he open the door to see what was sowing chaos amidst his ranks.

No one… actually seemed to notice his presence, which to be frank, was not a problem Iorveth typically struggled with. He was quite good at appearing intimidating and infuriated even when he wasn’t particularly trying.

But it seemed his elves – and a few of the dwarves – were far too involved in their own gossip to notice him as he walked through the crowd.

“Have you heard–?”

“No way.”

“Guess he loved Temeria so much he married it!” someone chortled.

“Ha! From Cocksucker in Chief to Consort. He must be real good.”

A bout of cackling followed that last remark, and Iorveth had his first premonition that the day was going to suck. But he still didn’t have answers, so he walked straight forward into what would become his own personal hell.

In the center of the crowd, surrounded by countless elves and dwarves, Iorveth was not at all surprised to find his two favorite subordinates – who were rapidly losing that classification. He stepped up next to them, crossing his arms and waiting for them to notice the trouble they were in.

Really, he should have known it would be these two. Rinn, for all that she was nominally well-behaved and quiet, was extremely mischievous, especially when it had the potential to cause minor problems for Iorveth. He would not be surprised if she had planned this. Her companion, Ky, may have been more innocent in that she may not have intended to draw a crowd – but she was absolutely the one spreading the gossip far and wide.

It took a while, but slowly, the chattering grew quieter and quieter as more people took notice of his presence. Finally, Rinn caught sight of him and poked Ky, who was still loudly expounding on something about marriage.

“Something you need to tell me?” Iorveth asked, eyebrow arched high and disapproving scowl firmly in place.

Ky winced, but Rinn looked entirely unrepentant as she signed, the Temerian King made an official announcement today that I caught during my shift.

Iorveth looked at the way more than a few people were biting their lips and avoiding his eye and hummed. “And?”

“Roche is getting married!” Ky burst out as if she physically could not hold it back anymore and Iorveth felt everything freeze.

Married? Vernon Roche!? The erstwhile commander of the Blue Stripes and proud pain in Iorveth’s ass? Who the fuck would he be marrying and why would it be a royal announcement!?

Even though Iorveth himself still felt like he was encased in ice, time seemed to resume for everyone else and chattering rapidly commenced, elves whispering back and forth between themselves and each other.

What was it someone had said earlier? ‘From Cocksucker in Chief to Consort’?

Was… was Vernon marrying King Foltest!?

Rinn must have seen the question on his face, because she nodded and passed over a paper missive.

It felt like moving through molasses to extend his arm and accept the notice that would forever change his life.

The Ancient Royal Line of the Temerian Dynasty Announces the Wedding of

Foltest, King of Temeria, Prince of Sodden, Sovereign of Pontaria and Mahakam, and Senior Protectorate of Brugge and Sodden

and

Vernon Roche, Commander of the Elite Blue Stripes Special Forces Unit, Pacifier of the Mahakaman Foothills, and Right Hand to the King

to take place at the year’s end on the Winter Solstice

Iorveth stared at the announcement, static fizzing through his brain. Vernon. And Foltest. They were getting married!?

His eye shot up to meet Rinn’s almost imploringly, hoping this was all some big joke. But there was no mischief in her eyes, and her forehead creased with worry as she watched him, clearly wondering what was wrong.

She, at least, appeared to be the only one who had noticed anything amiss in his reaction. The rest of his Scoia’tael were back to loudly gossiping about their enemy’s new status in life.

“Wait, I thought human men couldn’t get pregnant. Isn’t the whole point of a royal marriage to produce an heir?”

“Nah, I’ve heard the whore has a cunt,” someone laughed. “Can you imagine only having one? Sounds lame as fuck. But yeah, supposedly our dearest Commander Roche can make royal babies for King Fuckface.”

Iorveth’s heartbeat stuttered and he inhaled sharply through his nose. He… hadn’t known that. Sure, he’d heard rumors, but the rumors about Vernon were wild and extreme and ranged from his background as a whore to his imaginary sideline in child abduction to his preference for blunt force weapons.

Was this one… true? As he looked back at Rinn for the answer – aside from being the primary spy assigned to Vernon, she also seemed to just inexplicably know things – he could hear the conversation around him moving on.

“Hey, do you think that’s why they’re getting married? Maybe the idiot king knocked up his whore and now he’s gotta marry him!”

“I dunno, did Roche look pregnant at our last fight?”

Rinn nodded the slightest bit and Iorveth brain returned to static. Vernon. Pregnant. That – he hadn’t been aware that that was something he was emotionally invested in, but the storm of feelings racing through his veins proved that he was. He wanted – he wanted to see that, wanted to cause that, wanted to discover what Vernon’s cunt would be like and feel it stretched around him and–

He’d – he’d always assumed that Vernon had a cock, even though he wasn’t quite sure what a human cock looked like. But whenever he’d picture a different future – one where he could choose his own happiness over his cause – it hadn’t mattered that he didn’t know what a human cock looked like. His imagination was more than delighted to fill in whatever he wished, and coming up with different ideas was all that got him through the night at times.

The idea of Vernon with a cunt was startling. It had never occurred to him before, and now he wondered how he could’ve possibly been so shortsighted. The things that he could do with Vernon’s cunt were limitless and Iorveth’s mind got stuck on that for probably far too long.

He was brought out of his daze by Rinn choking, wide eyes locked on his face. With sudden dread, he understood what she must have seen. What she must have realized.

Iorveth swallowed hard, jerking his head, “give me a proper report.” He turned to head back to his office without looking at her and he wasn’t sure if he was hoping she’d follow or that she wouldn’t.

(the rest under a cut to save your dash)

Isengrim/Eldain:

This is a fluffy bit from a get together fic set post-Reasons of State and we start with Isengrim mourning Dijkstra and Dijkstra’s betrayal.

There was a knock on his door and then Eldain’s voice spoke. “Isengrim? Um. I know you aren’t feeling great, but would you come with me for a bit?’

All of a sudden, then blankness fled under a wave of confusion and curiosity. “What?”

“I – um. I have something for you. But you gotta come with me for a bit. And if you don’t like it, I promise I will not get in the way of your grief, even if that means hiding out in here.”

Eldain sounded nervous, of all things. Isengrim hadn’t actually known Eldain was capable of feeling nervous.

Why was he nervous?

Isengrim frowned at the door. He wasn’t exactly going to get an answer lying here. And maybe Eldain could keep him from thinking about Sigi and all the pain associated with him for a bit.

It was worth a shot. Besides, he’d come to rather like the other ex-commander quite a bit over the course of working together. Not that they hadn’t worked together before, but there had always been a formality dividing them. Eldain looked up to him, he knew that. Not that Eldain would ever say it, but it was the way Eldain looked at him. A soft regard that one could almost mistake for love, but was truly nothing more than hero worship. He’d seen the same look on the faces of all the young Scoia’tael, but from Eldain, it felt like the thorn of a rose – he hated it, knowing that Eldain would never feel the same, that he was destined to die alone and miserable and a beautiful young musician like Eldain could never be his. But at the same time, he coveted it, coveted Eldain’s regard, because even if it wasn’t what he wanted, it was something.

He would give anything to have Eldain in his life in any form.

Swallowing hard, Isengrim rubbed his face, then opened the door.

Eldain was on the other side of the door and his shoulders were slumped in defeat that quickly turned to confusion, one shoulder cocking upwards.

“What?” Isengrim asked.

“I – no, I just. Thought you’d say no,” Eldain said awkwardly.

“Does that mean you do want me to go with you somewhere or not?”

“Yeah!” Eldain shook himself, smiling at Isengrim, and it felt as though the sun had emerged from cloud cover, because instead of the nothingness-pain from before, now he felt – too much, really. And some of it hurt, but more of it was pleased to just bask in the rays of Eldain’s smile.

He was only half aware of following Eldain through the house, still a little dazed from the blinding light. But when Eldain came to a stop in front of a closed door, the world seemed to snap back into focus, and he looked to Eldain expectantly.

Eldain fidgeted, feet shuffling. “Um. Like – like I said, if you don’t like it, I won’t force you to stay, but um–” his adam’s apple bobbed and then Eldain opened the door and motioned for Isengrim to enter.

Isengrim took two steps through the doorway and froze. All around him, the room was lit up with dozens of little lights – some up high, some down low, others around his hips. Those ones on the floor guided him towards what looked like a raggedy old blanket draped over the wooden flooring.

“It’s not exactly a starlit picnic,” Eldain shrugged, setting down a basket he hadn’t even noticed Eldain was carrying, “but since we’re laying low, I figured this was as close as we could get.”

“I–” Isengrim was breathless, uncertain of what to say. Awe spread through him as he looked over the dozens of lights, each coming from candles in small lanterns that were hanging from the ceiling all over. He couldn’t think of any words to portray what this meant to him, what it meant that Eldain would go to all this trouble for him. So he was as surprised as Eldain when his mouth said, “isn’t this a fire hazard?”

Eldain rocked back as if he’d been hit, smile abruptly falling from his face.

“No,” Isengrim tried to recover, cursing himself. “I – this is amazing. Is. What I mean. Um. Am trying to say. I – you did this for me!?” If there was disbelief coloring his tone, it was only because he could hardly comprehend the idea of anyone going to so much trouble just to cheer him up.

Eldain’s jaw was clenched, and his expression was a neutral mask that Isengrim hated having put there. Why did he always hurt the people he cared for? Was he truly so tainted that anyone he touched was at risk of infection? Was simply being around him enough to ruin what could be an incredible life for a beautiful young musician like Eldain?

“You don’t have to stay,” Eldain murmured, and Isengrim felt like crying, uncertain whether he wanted to leave and spare Eldain the risk of contamination or if he wanted to stay and bask in this incredible gift that Eldain was giving him.

––

Never before had Eldain wished that Isengrim would leave his presence immediately. But if he stayed much longer, then it was entirely too likely that he would witness Eldain falling apart.

Eldain had always known his silly little crush would never go anywhere . He was even almost fine with that. But he’d thought – he’d thought that Isengrim at least considered him a friend. And yes, this whole production was a little over the top for friendship, but hey, Eldain was an over the top kind of guy.

There was always the possibility Isengrim would hate it. And he’d worried about that and fretted over it, but he hadn’t really expected it to happen. Even if Isengrim was uncomfortable, Eldain would’ve guessed that he’d be polite enough to grin and bear it. Which was far from ideal, but right now, Eldain really wished that he’d done that, because instead it felt like he’d reached into Eldain’s chest and ripped his still-beating heart out, leaving him bleeding and doomed.

“Thank you,” Isengrim said, and Eldain startled. Of all the words he’d expected, those were not even on his radar.

“What?”

“Thank you. I – you clearly went to a lot of trouble to give me something beautiful. Thank you.” Isengrim said the words easily, and Eldain was confused. That… didn’t sound like Isengrim hated it. “So, what are we eating?”

Eldain’s smile grew slowly, but as Isengrim continued to look expectantly at him, he found that he couldn’t hold it back. He waved Isengrim towards the blanket – one probably as old as the house was, but all the good blankets were in use. “Bread and cheese. Fruit. Some veggies,” he narrated as he pulled the items out of the basket. “Wasn’t sure how much appetite you’d have, so I wanted to keep it light, but if you’re hungry, there’s still some venison in the storeroom.”

Isengrim looked at the objects laid out around them. “I – I don’t know what to say except thank you,” Isengrim said, a smile growing on his face that made Eldain’s heart beat fast. “This is very thoughtful and sweet.”

Eldain flushed, reaching into the basket to pull out the last item. “And, of course, some wine. It’s not exactly high quality, but we’re slumming it tonight anyway.”

The huff of laughter Isengrim let out made it feel like there were wings on his heart, letting it slowly rise. He’d made Isengrim happy. If that was all he ever did in life, he could be content with that.

Throne3 (Meve/Reynard/Gascon):

The porn tags for these 3 are sadly lacking, so... have some porn XD The premise here is that they’ve just escaped the Lyrian capital through the sewers and now they’re all washing off in the first river they came across.

They all knew what the venerable Count Reynard Odo was getting up to with Queen Meve upriver. But while the deserters from the Lyrian army and the Strays seemed content with gossiping about it, Gascon felt compelled to seek out more.

Sneaking past the guards ensuring their queen’s privacy with her boytoy even now was honestly pathetically easy. But then, they were probably used to looking the other way for their queen.

Gascon didn’t really know what he was planning, but he knew that he needed to see Meve in the throes of pleasure. The fierce and enchanting queen was currently being ‘serviced’ by her top aide and everybody knew it.

How could he possibly be expected to resist?

But instead of satisfying him, the view before him only made him crave more, because Meve and Reynard were standing about shin-deep in the water with him wrapped around her, hands stroking over her body as her head rested back against his shoulder.

But moreso than the picture they made, what truly drove Gascon over the edge was hearing Reynard tease his queen.

“So eager, your majesty,” Reynard murmured softly. “Could it be that the company of the ever so honorable Duke of Dogs,” his voice was heavily sarcastic, “has gotten you excited? Are you curious what that infuriatingly charming mouth would feel like against your skin?”

Meve arched as Reynard’s fingers skirted just short of touching her clit. “Reynard,” she growled.

Gascon wasn’t certain when his fingers had slipped inside his trousers, but the touch against his cock had him shuddering, already overwhelmed at the very idea that Meve could be fantasizing about him.

“Have you thought about pushing the arrogant bastard to his knees and showing him his place?” Reynard continued and Gascon bit his lip hard against a moan. “Have you pictured him, lips stretched around your widest strap, eyes tearing up from the effort of it?”

Meve whined softly, reaching up to tug Reynard into a kiss.

Gascon had never seen a filthier kiss in his life, and he stroked himself faster, picturing what he would do if he could join them. She may not have a strap handy to gag him on, but he was sure they could come to a compromise.

“Do you imagine him kneeling before you, begging for you?” Reynard rumbled and Gascon almost missed Meve’s sound over his own. Which meant that Reynard knew he was there when the Count continued, “I’ve no doubt the crass mutt is a marvel with his mouth.

Later, Gascon would claim that he spoke before he could even think about it, proclaiming, “I am.”

In reality, he spent a long moment contemplating how to respond. Getting caught spying on sex typically ended one of two ways: either you got invited to join in or you got beaten to a pulp.

He was fairly hopeful that the first option was more likely than the latter, but he wasn’t sure, and in the seconds of silence that followed his words, his heart pounded in his chest and pulse raced and he felt on the edge of either agony or elation.

“In that case,” Meve’s voice broke the quiet with all the firmness of having made a decision, “come pay homage to your queen, Gascon.”

Even though he’d hoped this was how things would go, he still felt utterly amazed that she had actually said yes.

He stepped through the buses, trying not to look like he’d been caught with his hand down his pants. “Your Majesty,” he bowed his head with a playful smirk and then sent her a wink just to top it off.

Meve looked every bit the dignified queen as she held out a hand that should have held her signet ring. They had taken that from her when she’d been captured, but Gascon found himself licking his lips, taking her hand and kissing her ring finger as if he were a knight pledging her fealty.

Her gaze was hot on him as he slowly kissed up her arm, and unlike the two of them, he still wore his armor – which meant that he could pretend no one saw the way that his cock twitched when Reynard reached out and knocked his hat off, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling his face down into Meve’s chest.

Obediently, he applied himself to worshipping Meve’s tits, taking Reynard’s lead and only giving her glancing brushes across her nipples, denying her touch.

Meve growled in frustration, grabbing his hips and pulling him into her until the bulge of his cock rubbed over her pelvis. Her cunt greeted the contact with a gush of slick, staining Gascon’s pants and making him pant with arousal.

“Fuck,” he gasped, grinding into her. She arched with a cry, fingers digging into his ass and Gascon desperately wished that there wasn’t a layer of fabric between his cock and that glorious cunt. But how could he pull away to fix that when his time could be better spent licking and sucking and biting at Meve’s glorious tits? Gods, they were beautiful, plump and sensitive, to the point that nipping at one nipple while squeezing her other tit was enough to make Meve’s body jerk, bucking into his hips as she utterly drenched his pants.

“Fuck,” he whimpered again, then dropped to his knees and buried his face in her cunt.

Thronebreaker Headcanons:

Okay, so as I’ve been getting to know Meve, Reynard, and Gascon and have started writing different plots with them, I’ve decided a few things. There’s going to be 1 universe of fics that falls under the “homophobia exists” universe that I talked about here. However, I know that’s not everyone’s boat and like, sometimes I just wanna write context-less porn, so definitely not all fics will! But I have several ideas already in that ‘verse, especially looking at the chronic pain Reynard has as a result of things.

So, specific to that ‘verse, one headcanon is that Reynard was whipped specifically for being queer and almost died from it. The wounds healed, but not... well, not the greatest. There wasn’t a lotta care taken with it. Which means that his back pains him A LOT and there’s a lotta things that he has to do different. For example, I’ve decided he sits in chairs like Riker does, keeping his back straight so that he doesn’t stretch the scar tissue. His range of motion is also limited in a lot of ways, but he’s found ways to compensate and hide it over the years. (just as an FYI, Riker sits like that, ‘cause Frakes had a back injury and doing that was less painful)

Okay, now WITHOUT the homophobia that led to chronic pain - I’ve decided that each of the Throne3 need to have a niche hobby that occupies them in their limited spare time (developed with much help from @moonlights-ordinance). Sooooo:

Meve:

Meve likes sewing. She doesn’t like people to know she likes sewing, because it’s closer to a traditionally ‘feminine’ than she usually aims for, but she actually really enjoys it.

On their journey, this comes out when Gascon’s shirt gets ripped and when he complains about it a lot, she just grabs it and mends it. This leads to her spending the evenings mending all the different clothing from the soldiers and the Strays.

I think she learned sewing from her father and he taught it to her in an attempt to get her to just sit still for five fucking minutes!!

Not directly related to sewing, but because her mother was busy being queen, she was largely raised by her father, who was an Ofieri Marquis (like, 2nd level nobility, under a duke) whose family paid a substantial sum in order to win the match. He was not popular at court and therefore found himself largely shunned by the peerage, but it left him with basically all of his time to devote to his children. (Does... does Meve have sisters?? Queen Kalis supposedly bore several girls???)

Reynard:

Reynard likes to crochet. Specifically, he likes to crochet little plushies. He’s not too picky about what he makes, and whoever is in range when he finishes it will likely end up gifted with an unexpected plushie.

At one point, he finished making a stingray, only for a passing soldier to dub it a Sting-Rey. Thus, Lieutenant Sting Rey was born. The troops listen to Lt. Sting Rey better than they listen to General Odo lmao.

He has a habit of crocheting in the evenings in the mess (maybe with Meve mending nearby) and random soldiers (and Strays) like to sit around his feet so that when he finishes a lil plush, they might get it. And when he starts a new one, he might take requests.

I could say so much more about the plushies he makes for Gascon and Meve, but I guess I’ll save that for a fic. But I gotta share these pics, ‘cause they’re so fucking cute. So: a donkey for Gascon (’cause he’s an ass) and a Lyrian eagle for Meve (’cause it’s Lyrian lol).

Gascon:

Gascon likes dancing! Specifically, he was trained in ballet from a young age (like literally a year old is when you start, apparently) and was trained as a ballerina (meaning he will be lifted/led instead of doing the lifts/leading). By the time he ended up on the streets at 12 (8 in canon, but my guy needs to at least be 20), he was pretty damn good at it - and so he ended up teaching the Strays

The Strays have a ballet troupe that puts on performances for the gang on occasion as like, a bonus to music night or something. Semi-spontaneous and very fun.

Gascon is SCARY flexible (like, to the point that Reynard is a little horrified that the human body can do that) from dance and he definitely uses that to his advantage.

He 100% gets everyone to dress up all fancy and put on makeup and do their hair and shit. After all, they steal all this fancy shit from the nobles - why SHOULDN’T they enjoy it?

And there you have it! Sorry for the super long post, but also... enjoy?

#rorveth #isendain #throne3 #iorveth x roche #isengrim x eldain #meve x reynard x gascon #thronebreaker #the witcher #wip wednesday #fic planning

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mintvender · 3 years

Note

I really like the jealous Y/N! How about this time the boys are jealous? :]

Alrighty! Little anon, I apologized for not posting this sooner. Something came up this week and prevented me from finishing this. 🌿💚🌿

Harem!AU

BTS’s Reaction To Getting Jealous

A/n: Also special announcement of this blog hitting 50 followers! Thank you everyone that have been supporting me and my work on the journey through the Harem Au! It was such a surprise to me when we managed to grow so fast in such a limited amount of time. I have quite a few ideas for upcoming AUs but we are still quite new so develop is meant to happened. Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this 🌿 🌿 🌿 .

Masterlist

Kim Taehyung

When Taehyung got picked to be the Royal Consort, he thought that he would finally be able to spend the most time with you like before you guys have met Namjoon. Oh how he was so wrong. At least with Namjoon, he would have a reason to stay with you for a few hours for the monthly checkup but for him, he had to wait for you to take the initiative! As the consort, his contact to the outside world can only be reserve for private moments, and he can’t just randomly visit you whenever he wants to nor go on a date whenever he wants to. To make it worse, the others have been teasing him about getting neglected by you. Taehyung knows this might not be true but seeing how many people had come to hate him because of his status, he’s secretly afraid that you would come to hate him.

This especially worsens when more people entered your private circle. With Seokjin and Jimin being overly flirtatious with you, Taehyung almost had no chance to even have a night with you to himself. But being with you for so long, he of course knew you the best and know how much affections you have towards him. Using that information, he would purposely cling to you whenever he had the chance like a puppy marking its territory. With his witty mind, he knew just when to pull away before crossing the line. Sometimes, Taehyung would jokingly sulk within your arms about how you don’t spend enough time with him, but it will all be well as long as you promise him the opposite and smother him in affection.

“ Y/NNNN, I was feeling so lonely without you. Others even started to tease me, too...HMPH. Compensate me by spending more time with me! We can do anything, sleep, talk about politics, even go on missions.”

Kim Namjoon

As the head of the physcian department, there are several meetings every season that he must be present as a representative of the royal physicians. Namjoon have been extremely lucky to not have his usual time with you be corrupted with these meetings, but that soon came to an end as the upcoming meeting was rescheduled to days before the initial date. Unfortunately, that day was the day where he had your monthly checkup. Even though Namjoon could easily just rearrange the time, he finds that the change would be too bothersome and would mess up his neat schedule. As a result, the day of the your monthly checkup, Namjoon will be attending the meeting while the vice-head will be doing his work. The meeting unsurprisingly smooth and he found himself back in the castle just in time. What did not go as plan was when he heard you suggesting permanently changing the person in charge of your health to someone else.

As calm as he can be at times, Namjoon was bewildered by the nonchalant comment. Expectedly, his next action was to ask you why and try to untie the knots, despite already fearing the worse. Personally, Namjoon found comfort in the time you guys spend time with each other, an he has a feeling that you resonate to that as well. When you explained that with how busy he is with his other work, maybe being your personal physician won’t be that efficient in the long run. Not wanting to lose your guys’ time to another, Namjoon immediately refused your claims, stating that he was more than happy to put the extra effort for you. With what he said in mind, Y/N nodded, accepting his claims.

“ I’m afraid I would have to correct you on this. I do not find it frustrating nor annoying or any of sort when being made responsible for your health. In fact, I find it very much rewarding getting to spend more time with you.”

Jung Hoseok

As a minister’s son, it was shocking news to you with how familiar Hoseok seems in the streets. The boy was literally bouncing from one end to the other, seemingly knowing everyone in one of your guys’ dates. Truthfully, you’ve never seen someone so happy just being outside, especially someone that was born from the riches. You just assumed that nobles would frown in distasteful or worse whenever they are forced onto the dirty grounds of the streets, accustomed to having carpets payed everywhere they go. But how the miniature had proved you wrong. Amidst the moment, Hoseok could be mistaken as just a normal civilian if it wasn’t for his stunning face. Any lady that past by would have to stop and stare at his bright smile.

Hoseok, knowing that he won’t get lecture when out in the streets, decided to be his self for once and began socializing with them. You on the other hand, just stood by him casually, watching him enjoying himself, deciding to take him out whenever you have to go outside as well. everything was going smoothly until a person came up to the group, casually creating a conversation between him and you. Deciding to be polite, Hoseok greeted him but was ignored by the guy. Seeing how impolite he is, Hoseok tried to be as polite as possible but his patience was slowly running thin when he started to flirt with you. The last straw was when he jokingly said bringing you home to do the deed; Hoseok stood up, knocking his chair over with a loud ‘thud’, silently muttered greetings to the ones who were present, before pulling you towards the entrance. On the way, Hoseok couldn’t help but hold your hand tight while his eyes continue to agitated, predicting any other offender before they can even do anything. Seeing how serious he was, Y/N tried to comfort him, hugging him to prevent confusing any other people walking pass by. Looks like your little sunshine is not as bright when he is in a bad mood.

“ He was literally flirting with you the whole time! We will never go outside again... No, we will go outside but... Why didn’t you use your sword when he was being touchy with you?”

Min Yoongi

Yoongi is envied by many because of how much time he gets to spend time with you but the man himself just thinks that he is repaying you by taking away part of your worries. Regardless of the reason, he had got quite used to being alone with you most of the time whenever you’re in office. There will be times where people will come into your study but the time you guys’ spend alone with each other easily outweigh that. Besides, those poeple knew better than to flirt with you in front of your consort who is the highest rank in the harem. Even if he’s a fallen prince and has no power, Yoongi could still easily handle the minor officers on his own. Yoongi may be more vulnerable and desperate around you but he is still a prince that was train to become the future king. He, however, will only resort to that method when absolutely necessary, afraid of tainting your image of him, despite you knowing how skillful he is in this domain. Most of the times, he is very thankful that he is the resilient but sometimes, he must say that he somewhat regrets of deciding not to end those people in these situations.

Anyways, Yoongi, your little consort as well as little kitten, was behaving more like a feline as Jimin continues to flirt with you. The handsome brunette was onc again capturing your attention with his flirtatious remarks. Normally, Jimin would have a specific time slot that he would save to go visit you which was during the night. Today, however, Jimin decided to come and visit you during the evening, intervening with Yoongi’s perfectly peaceful time with you. It only got worse with Jimin obvious teasing smirks whenever he looks Yoongi’s way, as if silently challenging him to a fight. Now, similar to a panther, Yoongi stepped towards Jimin, and pick the said boy up and ‘kicked’ him out of the room, claiming that Y/N still have many things to do. Turning around, Yoongi could only smirk but immediately blushed when he met your amused gaze. Opening your arms, you offered him a hug, Yoongi could only obey and continued to flush when in your arms.

“ His actions prevented you from finishing your work so I-I wanted to...”

Jeon Jungkook

Despite hearing some pretty outrageous remarks in his life, his time with you is by for the strangest. With you seeming so experienced in your role, Jungkook had to somehow match your pace in his as well. As a result, Jungkook find himself especially hard working whenever he is alone with you. Not saying that he isn’t hard working at other times, Jungkook just puts out more effort when he is alone with you. Others who only see you in public, assumes that Jungkook sucks at his job and tried to degrade him from his position, knowing how much benefits would approach them when becoming your personal guard. Jungkook, of course, knew about their intentions but ultimately decided to ignore them as he deemed it not worth his attention.

The thought remained in one of the small crevices in his head, seemingly forgotten until one of the minister mentioned of a possible candidate for the second personal guard at your side. Like a sharp knife penetrated his heart, Jungkook felt dissapointed when you did not do anything but a “needing more time to think about it” comment. On your way back to your office, you asked Jungkook a question that suprised him. But of course, he honestly answered your question and before he knew it, he witness your direct rejection of the minister’s offer.

“ Truthfully, I do not think it is necessary to have another by your side. He would just only hinder you. I doubt that he would even be able to protect you when anything unexpected comes up. I-I also have a feeling that the minister is planning something, and I don’t trust him.”

Kim Seokjin

Seokjin knows that the moment he decides to chase you, there will definately be many candidates that would block the way. Despite this, he found himself enjoying most of their company yet a part of him still remain conscious of what’s happening behind the curtains with each of them. He knew that there might be a chance of you having an intimate relationship with one or even more of them with you being a ruler an all. But Seokjin could not accept how his heart would tighten every time an affection is aimed towards you. If it was in the past, he would have proudly intervene and claimed his status as your fiancé but now that you guys ar adults, doing that will cause more harm than good.

As a result, whenever Jin sees you be intimate with just anyone, the merchant made sure to lecture you on your guys’ next meeting. Complaining how you’re too open and that anyone could presume the wrong idea about your intentions. He would then show you all the ‘safer’ positions, purposely doing it in front of the servants for the to go gossip about your intimate relationship. Seokjin made sure to make some of them extra touchy to rile up the entire harem.

“ You are a nation’s ruler but why are you so naive! They may be your consorts but what would others think when you gets touchy with each other? No! You have to do this, raise you hand higher, straighten your back...”

Park Jimin

Jimin, your lusty and flirty consort is bound to get jealous when he sees his person get smothered from someone else. Contrary to what people would envision his jealousy would be, it would depends on how ‘severe’ it is — as Jimin likes to say. With how he is trained, his vulnerable self-esteem would be blown away if he witness some things that caught him off his guard. Especially, with Taehyung, who he can somewhat resonate with, it will be a journey for him to not withdraw and go talk to you.

Anyways, it was one of those nights where you and Taehyung were cuddling in bed when Jimin came in, excited for your guys’ night together. However, his smile turned upside down when he saw the pile you both had accumulated on the bed. Knowing that it was his time to exit, Taehyung left the room and the two of you were left in an awkward tension. Jimin, who was crossing his arm, eyes not daring to meet with yours, lips jutted out forming a pout, remaining in his original spot. Y/N, despite how tired they are, dragged Jimin to their bed and let him sulk for however long. Let’s say that it was less than what he would admit, before he snuggled into Y/N’s warmth and went to sleep also.

“ HMPH!”

#asks #anon asks #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts hoseok #bts jimin #bts jungkook #bts rm #bts seokjin #bts yoongi #bts taehyung #harem au #bts x y/n #bts x reader #mintvender #Ot7

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euphoricsunflowers · 3 years

Text

queen’s whore — lee hoseok/wonho

a/n: sorry to anyone named adrian, i just needed a name lol

a/n: hi welcome back to me getting so into a concept and writing out a complex story instead of just writing something sexual for this nsfw blog 😔✌️ i promise the next one will actually be horny

word count: 3.1k

content: only the last section is nsfw and it’s pretty soft, peasant!wonho, queen!fem!reader, kiki and kyun are in this too and honestly kyun in this is my icon, wonho is not treated well by the people so don’t read if that’s uncomfortable for you, like he mentions being called a whore but nobody directly says it to him in what’s written, riding le dick, aftercare i guess??? it’s vv soft at the end, the king is a sexist dick and i literally just looked up royal baby names and his is what came up so sorry to anyone named adrian

summary: hoseok, your secret lover, asks to become your consort so he’s not just seen as some peasant trying to get power by having an affair with the queen. kihyun, a royal advisor, and changkyun, a war strategist, help you do so against a king who is a really, really big asshole.

“oh my darling hoseok, why are you here so suddenly?” you mumble, allowing him into your chambers despite the absurd time. he trudges in, seemingly something disturbing his peace of mind, settling down on the bed, lying back with a miserable expression on his face that haunts your heart. it makes you want to do nothing more than absolve him of all this pain.

his eyes flutter close as he breathes in, taking in your words as if they are the only comfort he has left in the world, “i love you, you know.”

his bluntness startles you, “i do know, hoseok, i love you too.”

“no you do not understand, i really, really love you, i—” he stops, breaking down suddenly. Your heart shatters when he chuckles cathartically, covering his face with his arm out of embarrassment as he cries, “why do they have to say such cruel words? they say i’m fucking the queen so surely i must be trying to take advantage of her status or raise mine, but i am really not! i’m not just your whore!” he shouts, before looking over at you and remembering the situation. he, a common peasant, just cursed in front of you, the queen. Even if you did love him, he so desperately wished to go back and stop himself, “I apologize, my queen, for my words, i— please forgive me for tonight.”

“dear, please do not apologize tonight. you have every reason to be acting irrational right now,” you reach out to grab his hand, and he holds back with every last ounce of strength in his body, “the things people have said about you since the beginning of rumors concerning our… affair, have been vile and invasive. I wish that I could stop them, but I can only do so much without confirming them more. we both know my husband would not appreciate that.”

your husband. the king. not an ounce of love was shared between you two, and yet, even though he expected you to be fine with his constant affairs with other women, he would be livid if he knew you had a lover of your own. for that reason, the rumors concerning hoseok never made it to the king, because the people knew you would probably be in for hell. you were definitely the more well liked out of the two, and that meant that hoseok, a little nobody from a small fishing village in the kingdom, got the brunt of it, “does his opinion have… to matter so much?”

“hoseok...” you murmur with a warning tone, “sweetheart, i… i do not think…. it’s wise to talk about my husband in such a way—”

“you don’t love him! you sleep in separate rooms for god’s sake!” he shouts in a hushed tone, “make me your consort. i am not asking for political power, but i am sick of being called a whore.”

“and you expect me to take the brunt of my husband’s anger?”

“my queen, and more importantly, my love, please don’t imply such a thing. you have the support of the people, and many of your husband’s advisors would love to see him—” he says, and you place a finger over his lips.

“you speak far too loudly for someone trying to convince me to commit a crime.”

“i never said you had to kill him.”

“you were going to.”

“no i was not... because…” he takes a breath in, “i know you think he’ll have your head, but with the way the kingdom views you, and especially how the people view him, he would be a fool to lay a finger on you.”

silence fills the room, and hoseok wants to take it all back. it’s always felt like every time he opened his mouth to speak, nothing good would come of it. he sits up, but stays on the bed as you look away from him, “hoseok…”

he doesn’t answer when you call out his name, even though he knows he should. frankly, he should be on his knees in your presence, but in this room only he felt like you could be equals; he’s once again reminded that you are not, “my queen, i know what i’m asking of you is far too much, i know i’m overstepping and asking you to step into deadly dangerous territory, but… i’m so tired of being viewed like i’m using you, and i’m tired of the things they call me. i’m tired of being nothing to you outside these walls.”

“my dear,” you breathe, speechless at his words. it would be fatal to make one wrong move, but… would it be worth it?

“i’m not going to attempt to guilt trip you, you deserve better than that. if you don’t feel safe doing this, or just simply don’t wish to, i will accept that. and my love will be unwavering no matter what,” he raises your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles, falling to his knees, and resting his forehead against your thigh, “just, please think about me too when you make that decision.”

—

“kihyun,” you murmur, and he perks up hearing your voice as you reach out your hand for him to take, “come here, please. i require you for something.”

“of course, your highness,” he nods softly, letting you lead him to somewhere more quiet. kihyun was a royal advisor, but he was also a good friend to have on your side. he was too smart for you to allow to become an enemy, but he had a good heart. it didn’t take much effort from your husband to get kihyun to… not be fond of him, to put it mildly, “what is the matter?”

“i… i have a favor to ask,” you gulp, the full weight of what you were going to do hitting you hard in that moment, but you push through it. hoseok needed this, “have you heard the rumors about me?”

he bites his lip, but nods, “i— yes, your highness. my lips are sealed if you wish to speak about them.”

“they… are true. and i wish to make him my consort, but…”

“you’re worried about the king’s reaction to knowing you have… a lover,” he finishes the thought for you, and you’re both left to silence, until he speaks up with a chuckle, “forgive me, but you’re in a rough situation, my queen.”

“it’s… it’s not me who’s had to take the worst of it,” you shake your head, “i need to do this, kihyun.”

“i know you do. so tell me what you need me to be specifically, and i will do my best to be exactly that—” kihyun says, before getting interrupted.

“the king must understand the backlash he’ll get from punishing the queen, right?” you hear a voice say, cutting kihyun off.

your heart stops.

it’s all over isn’t it? the king found out about it before you even got the chance to try. you failed hoseok.

“i could attempt to help?” the voice adds on. you turn to see the face that the voice belongs to, and you breathe out a sigh of relief.

“changkyun,” you whisper, a hand over your heart, “you scared me.” *changkyun*. he was a war strategist that worked very closely with your father and now your husband, despite being a rather young strategist when your father was still on the throne. though he runs in the big political leagues, you trusted that kid with your life.

“i apologize, your highness, i seem to have that effect,” he winks, “anyway, i am sure we could convince the king to let it slide and allow the queen to appoint her mystery lover as a consort.”

though changkyun always seems to speak nonsense, his nonsense is giving you too much hope right now that you have to consciously hold yourself together and keep your expectations realistic, “tell me how, changkyun.”

“we could threaten to reveal information that, to be blunt, would ruin the king,” changkyun smirks, “i have been waiting for the chance to screw him over for years.”

“what information do you have?” kihyun speaks up, “and, no matter what it is, you know you’re painting a target on your back if you do this, right?”

changkyun, suddenly somber, nods, “of course i know that this would make me a target for the king, but… i owe it to you, your highness. you’re the reason i am alive. i live to serve you, not the crown. and.. do you think exposing to the kingdom that the king wants to invade our northern allies because they wouldn’t give him their princess to fuck would work? let’s just say, the king is one incredibly unpleasant man.”

you glance over at kihyun, who is in turn, looking over at you, and you mumble, “what do you say we… pay a visit to my husband, just the four of us?” you raise an eyebrow at kihyun, and he just wants to laugh at the obvious death sentence.

“of course, my queen. let’s meet back here after dinner and say hello to him then.”

—

“my king,” kihyun says, entering first. he hears the disgruntled groan of the king before even daring to look up. he keeps his head down.

“what is it, yoo? this better be important,” he spits, and kihyun does his best to keep his cool. now that he’s really thinking about it, maybe they should have… not bothered the king during his personal time.

“the queen wishes to speak with you, your highness,” he mutters, hearing the scoff from the king, he can tell the attention is soon off of him because he hears your footsteps behind him.

“good evening, adrian,” your voice is cold and unwavering as you speak to the king, much different than the kindness and softness in your demeanor when you spoke to others. the difference is night and day.

“for what reason are you in my chambers this evening, y/n? i doubt you’re here for romance,” he chuckles half-heartedly, but you keep your glare pointed at him.

“you would be correct. i’m here to say i… i am appointing a consort.”

he laughs, actually bursts out into a fit of laughter, when you say that, “really?! you?! i hate to tell you, my wife, but that will not be happening.”

“actually, it will be,” kihyun stands up after kneeling, and meeting the king’s startled gaze, “she came here for a reason, and we’re not leaving until we do what we came to do.”

“who is this consort?!” the king doesn’t even spare kihyun more than a glance after he gathers himself together, “i feel bad for the poor thing, he’ll be dead before you even get the chance to do anything for him.”

the thought lingers in your head. that is definitely a possibility. hoseok was definitely physically strong, but there was a good chance he wouldn’t make it out of this alive. you have to remind yourself that this is what hoseok wanted, that he is fully aware of the danger, and that you’re doing this for him. you pull yourself back together, feeling kihyun’s hand on your shoulder, being a comforting and supporting presence, “you will allow it, adrian, i assure you that it’s in your best interest to let this happen.”

“and why is that?!” he shouts, making you flinch a bit, but you’re saved when changkyun comes in. it’s now three against one, and changkyun raises a piece of paper, with his signature smirk in place.

“take a look,” he murmurs, his voice deep and soft. it would be soothing if it wasn’t filling you with the same confident energy that he always has. it’s infectious, in the best way, “i’m sure the people would love to know how you tried to steal the princess of another kingdom away. that’s some real comic book supervillain stuff, my king.”

“and remember, public opinion heavily favors your wife, my king. sure, they’re terrified of you, but i doubt that is enough to stop them from rising up. we wouldn’t want a coup, would we?” kihyun seems to share the same sentiment, his usually respectful and reverent demeanor suddenly disappearing, “so how about settling this here and now?”

—

“hello, and good morning, my people. i hope you are managing well during these hard times. please know i am doing my absolute best to serve you all well and take care of each and every one of you. your needs are incredibly important to me and i wish i could be doing more to make your lives easier. i promise to do everything in my power to help you. please hold me to that if you feel i am lacking.

“today, i am here to confess and to ask that you hear me out. for over a year now, you may have heard rumors about affairs my husband and i have had. i am here to tell you, that at least on my end, the rumors hold true. i have… fallen for someone else. when my husband and i talked this over, we came to the conclusion that our titles mean we rule together, but neither of us have romantic or otherwise feelings for each other.

“as such, i am deciding to do something that… i should have done long ago. my lover— his name is lee hoseok— and i have let him be treated cruelly just to protect myself from rumors. that is something… i do not feel proud about. he is the kindest soul i have ever had the pleasure of loving, and i wish for him to only feel happy feelings for the rest of his existence. starting from today, he shall carry the title of ‘queen’s consort’. please treat him like you would any royalty. calling him what some have will not be tolerated any longer.

“thank you for your time, this has been queen y/n. i wish a kinder tomorrow for you all, take care.”

—

hoseok had been waiting in your chambers since you left to deliver your speech that morning, watching it from the tv in your room. he watched the heart-wrenching moments when he could see the fear and regret within you coming together in one big release. he thinks about all the things he needs to say to you when you get back, but once you’re walking through that door, he was at a loss for words.

“good morning, my hoseok,” you murmur softly, nudging him out of his dazed state, “how are you doing today?”

“i am… amazing. i am doing so well,” he finally breaks out into the brightest smile you’ve ever seen from him. he always gave lopsided grins or small smiles, all full of love, but he truly just seemed so happy, and the sight was incredibly endearing, “come kiss me, please.”

“of course, dear,” you mumble, pulling him by his collar to crash your lips on his. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find a home resting on his beautiful chest and shoulders. you kiss him feverishly, and he reciprocates with the same intensity. you pull back to kiss along his jaw, dropping down to kiss his neck as well, and the room is filled with the beautiful breathy moans he lets escape.

“i love you so, so much, y/n,” he whispers breathlessly, gasping when you bite down. his hands hold your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and god he never wants to let go.

“i know, bunny, i know, and i love you so much more,” you whisper as he whimpers out of need when your knee brushes his crotch, pushing him down on the bed, feeling all up on him under you. it’s exhilarating like always, a feeling he’ll never get used to no matter how much he tries, “tell me, bunny, today is about you, so tell me what you want.”

“c-could you—,” he stutters, always struggling with words when you touch him the way you do, “—please ride me?”

“of course, sweetie,” you giggle, of course he wants that. well, you’ve never been one to deny him what he wants, bunny’s so spoiled.

you both undress rather quickly, even as he struggles to get his shirt off. he pulls you back on top of him as soon as he has the chance, and you immediately kiss him with ferocity, hands massaging the skin of his waist, making him giggle slightly, “hah, that tickles!”

you smile at his cute reactions, before taking his hand and pulling it so his fingers barely graze over your sex, “feel that, angel? that’s all you, this is what you do to me” he groans as he feels the wetness on his fingertips, “now stay still, i promise i’ll make you feel really good.”

“you always do,” he breathes with a smile, meeting your soft gaze for a second before you lower yourself down on him and you both moan simultaneously, and he adds on, “o-oh my god!” you take a second to adjust, but you soon start rocking your hips slowly, gaining speed gradually. nothing else, and nobody else, existed in that moment other than you and him.

“bunny,” you murmur, and he tries to pay attention to your voice, but he’s losing himself in the pleasure, “touch me, will you?” he reaches out to rub your clit as you continue to ride him. god, it’s so easy to see stars, especially when there’s the prettiest one right in front of you. you grasp his hair as you start speeding up, feeling your orgasm coming, “cum with me, hoseok.” he attempts to nod, unable to speak from the warmth begging to burst in his body.

he cries out as you pull one last time, orgasming with the most pornographic moans and look on his face you’ve ever seen. you’re right there with him, and if sucks you don’t get a chance to admire him fully, but that can be saved for later.

once you’re done, having both hit your highs and come down, you take care of him like always. he reaches for the snacks you keep in the drawer of your nightstand. it seemed like the boy was always hungry, but especially so after his soul practically left his body from how good you make him feel. you run him a bath where he just plays with bubbles and asks for nose kisses, but he looks so happy that your heart just melts.

and then you tuck him into bed, warmly dressed with fluffy socks to top it off. sure, it’s only 11 in the morning, but you don’t have anything to do until evening, and he could always use some cuddles.

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiest @rosethefae @staranonthoughts @maknaeronix @multidreams-and-desires @mellowriting

#monsta x #sub monsta x #sub!monsta x #monsta x x reader #monsta x drabbles #monsta x smut drabbles #monsta x smut #monsta x fic #sub!monsta x smut #wonho #lee hoseok #wonho smut #sub wonho #sub!wonho

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jwillowwolf · 3 years

Text

Magic and Miracles - Prologue

Tag List: @sandersidesbigbang @thomassanderssidesbigbang2021 @theimprobabledreamersworld

First Chapter > | Masterlist

This is a multi-chapter fic I've been working on for the last couple of months as a part of the 2021 Sanders Sides Big Bang. The original idea came from this post by @remy-please-come-back [thanks again for letting me use the idea 💜].

Summary: Ever present, never seen. Feared and admired by all beings. The life that bursts from the earth, the secrets hidden in stone. It dances in the fire’s flames; it gives the wind its mournful tone. Here it is, this is it. Defined yet unexplained. In the depths of the ocean, and of your own mind. In the veins of all creatures, including humankind. For magic is in everything, yet unknown all the same.

For the longest time, Logan wanted to learn magic. So, when he was offered the chance to study it at a new magic school, he decided to follow his dreams. Along the way, however, he'll learn about so much more.

Warning/s: food mention.

Characters: Logan, Emile, Remy, OCs.

Read on AO3

0 | The Underdog's Debut

Ever present, never seen. Feared and admired by all beings.

The life that bursts from the earth, the secrets hidden in stone.

It dances in the fire’s flames; it gives the wind its mournful tone.

Here it is, this is it. Defined yet unexplained.

In the depths of the ocean, and of your own mind.

In the veins of all creatures, including humankind.

For magic is in everything, yet unknown all the same.

Perhaps this was why people found it so intriguing from such a young age. They wanted answers to what magic was, and while they didn’t find what they sought, they did learn how it could be used to their advantage. Spells were created to do anything that their caster’s heart desired. From creating a small orb of light for reading in the night to manipulating a tidal wave that could crash down on your enemies.

Magic was something not easily understood, which was one reason why the Council of Wizards evaluated all potential magic users. They wanted to gage that these young mages could safely use the power they were wielding. If not, then they needed to be properly dealt with before things got out of hand.

This was a good thing, but also not because to learn magic safely you would need someone else to teach you first-hand.

Now that doesn’t seem like much of an obstacle, except the only established wizards were of the nobility, and therefore only worked with nobility. The system was pretty much rigged to make it hopeless for average people to learn and use magic. Or it was until our protagonist came along.

He rose from poverty to royalty, became a hero among heroes, and faced off against one of the greatest threats to humankind that ever existed! But I’m getting ahead of myself -sorry- let's start from the beginning, shall we?

Oh, but where to begin? Ah! We’ll start from his first test with the Council of Wizards when he was only a young lad of 15. It was the beginning of spring, which is when the COW always held the learner’s test. This test evaluated your magical potential and gave the council a heads up on how many new mages there were. Yes, COW, don’t ask me why they went with that acronym.

The ceremony was being held in the grand hall of the palace, and it was open for anyone from the Srednas Kingdom to come and watch. The test itself was rather simple but the festivities that came with it made things feel like a special holiday. Nobility and common folk alike were gathered to watch and see what new wizards would be taking on learning magic. There was even a small market of sorts set outside the palace to take advantage of the crowds and sell foods, drinks, and commemorative merchandise.

Inside, people were everywhere, talking excitedly to one another and trying to find good places to view the proceedings. At the end of the room, there was a dais with two thrones where King Thomas and his husband, Prince Consort Nico, sat to watch. In front of the dais were nine chairs for the COW members, who talked with the royals and amongst themselves. Even they seemed eager for what was about to happen, and yet no one knew truly how monumental today was going to be.

The event had begun the same as any other year. Noble children from across the land showed off whatever three spells they’d learnt for the test. Most were common tricks like lighting candles or making plants grow. A handful showed off with advanced versions of these spells, such as holding the flames in their hands or making entire trees grow. Still, regardless of how many times these spells were cast, the crowd watched in awe with each new user who passed their test.

And then a young man in a simple navy tunic and black trousers stepped forward. He looked to be in his mid-teens, the same as most of the young mages and walked with an air of subtle confidence. He had a slender form and soft features that pronounced his youthful appearance. His hair was raven black, swept neatly to the side, and his eyes were such a dark brown that they seemed almost black.

“Please state your name and title.” Silvia, the eldest council member, said.

“My name is Logan Picani.”

“Title?”

“I don’t have any.”

Silence fell over the hall. “Pardon?”

“I don’t have any titles.”

“How do you not have any titles?”

“I’m not a noble.”

Some people audibly gasped and began whispering conspiratorially to one another.

“Young man, you do understand what this test is, correct?” Allen, another council member, asked with a thinly veiled look of disgust.

“Yes sir, I do. I also know for a fact that there are no rules against my taking the test because of being a commoner.”

Allen frowned and opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Silvia. “I suppose not. Well then, let’s see what you can do.”

Logan took a deep breath and then held up his hand, “Ignyght.”

The tip of his little finger began to glow with golden light. The crowd watched on in silence as he carefully moved his hand to draw the necessary rune with the trail of light that flowed from his finger.

Once the rune was complete, he spoke again. “Solhart.”

The rune turned stark white and then disappeared. For a moment nothing happened, then a small white orb appeared where the rune had previously been floating. This earned a few excited claps from the crowd and an approving nod from two council members. But Logan didn’t stop there.

“Groh.” This time the light from his fingers was bright green. He made a different rune then repeated the sealing word, “Solhart.”

The orb multiplied until nearly fifty of them were floating in a cluster before Logan.

“Stahwynd.” A deep blue light flowed from Logan’s finger as he drew the final rune. “Solhart.”

The orbs burst apart from one another like birds flying off a tree in fear. Some people from the crowd shouted in shock as the balls of light zoomed off in all different directions until finally, they stopped. Now they were floating all around the room above the spectators who gasped as they realized what Logan had done. The hall’s ceiling was pitch black, so the lights looked like stars in the night sky. It was a breath-taking sight that inspired many to cheer and clap for the young mage.

“Alright, please settle down,” Silvia called over the noise before looking at Logan with a thoughtful expression. “Where did you learn this?”

“I taught myself.”

Silvia nodded then turned to talk with her fellow council members in hushed tones. Allen and two others seemed upset, while the rest of the council were neutral if not mildly impressed. After a few minutes, she looked back at Logan with a soft smile.

“Mr Picani, you are officially granted your learner’s license. I hope when we see you again in a few months time, you will once more surprise us all.”

The crowd cheered and Logan nodded before walking away with a look of pride. As he made his way through the crowd, he received congratulations from many strangers. And then he was tackled to the ground by an enthusiastic brown-haired girl.

“You did it! You did it! I knew you could do it!”

“Everleigh, my ribs.” Logan wheezed, causing the girl to release him.

“Oops, sorry. My bad. Is your chest okay?”

“It’s fine.” Both youths got up with smiles on their faces. “I did it.”

“Yep. In a couple of months, you’re going to be an official grand wizard.”

“Considering I just got my learners, I don’t think I’ll reach such a title that quickly.”

“You just created a night sky in the palace ballroom! I think you’re underestimating yourself.”

Logan smiled softly, “Come on, we should head back to the bakery to celebrate.”

Everleigh nodded in agreement and linked their arms so they could walk side by side. As they walked, Everleigh excitedly told Logan about how incredible it had looked from the crowd, and what kind of reactions the people around her had had.

Logan was uncharacteristically grinning by the time they’d reached the bakery. Walking inside only made his smile widen as the smell of fresh bread and sweet pastries filled his senses. It was after all the smell of home, so of course, it made him feel warm and welcomed. His father, Emile Picani, was standing by the counter helping an elderly customer when Logan and Everleigh walked in.

“Thank you, dear.”

“Oh, I should be the one thanking you, Mrs Goldstone. The brownie recipe you gave me has become a bestseller.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Have a nice day dear.”

“To you as well, ma’am. Oh, Logan, Everleigh, you’re back. And smiling,” Emile gasped, “did you get it?”

“He’s a wizard!” Everleigh dramatically announced.

“Not yet, I still need to finish the second test in a couple of months. I do have a learners’ license though.”

“Well, I think this calls for some celebratory tarts,” Emile said, ushering both youths into the back of the shop where the Picani’s sitting room/kitchen was located. “I’m proud of you logan. That hard work really paid off.”

“Speaking of hard work, you are going to take a break, right?” Everleigh asked.

Logan looked away from her sheepishly. “Well…”

“Come on, Lo. You’ve been working hard non-stop for months.”

“Yeah, kid, you work with me in the bakery all day, then study well into the night. And don’t think I haven’t seen you pull an all-nighter here and there.” Emile chastised.

It was true that Logan had worked long hard to get to where he was. it wasn’t exactly a simple task when books on magic were hard to find, and what knowledge they had was even harder to grasp. Figuring out pronunciation for the initiation/sealing words and learning to keep his hand steady as he drew the runes.

It had taken him many long nights of studying by candlelight to figure out the spells he’d performed. But with Everleigh’s library apprenticeship and his own persistent nature, he’d managed to learn a good deal about the basics. And now it was paying off. He officially had a learner’s license and would get a chance to become a genuine wizard.

Then he could use magic to help so many of the villagers who couldn’t afford the high-priced assistance of other magicians. Medicinal potions? Enchanted prosthetics? Transition spells? He would be able to give all this and more at prices his peers could afford.

Logan knew that what he was doing seemed near impossible, but he was going to do it or die trying! …okay, so maybe Emile and Everleigh were valid in their concern for his health, but this was his best and only way to study magic.

Before Logan could argue this, however, a stranger walked into the bakery. He was tall and slender, with a bronze tan and confident bearing. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a clean white tunic, black trousers, and dark brown riding boots. His short curly hair was the same dark brown shade as the boots, and his eyes were hidden by black tinted glasses.

“New customer, how do you how do?”

The stranger smiled. “Hey there, gorgeous. Sorry but I’m not a customer today. Is this where Logan Picani lives?”

“Yes, that’s my son.”

“Son? No offence honey but you look too young and handsome to be a dad.”

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” Logan asked, taking over the conversation for his blushing father.

“Ah, yeah, I’m here to offer you a very special opportunity on behalf of the crown prince.”

Logan and Emile gaped. “The crown prince?”

The stranger nodded. “My name is Remy Animosni, and on behalf of his highness, I’m here to extend an exclusive invitation to the Srednas Magic School.”

Logan frowned. “I wasn’t aware that there was a magic school here in Srednas.”

“Well, that’s because there wasn’t, not until now anyway. It’s something that the prince arranged to start this year with a few students to show how good it could be to the council. You particularly caught his interest today with your starry spellcasting, hence the personal invite. You would learn alongside six other students under me about everything there is to know concerning magic, from the full basics of spells to how you can modify your own enchantments.”

“That sounds incredible,” Emile said.

Remy nodded. “Yep, and not only that but you will be given your own room at the school and anything you may need or want during your stay will be provided by us, free of charge. The location of the school is just an hour out of town, so you could visit home on weekends if you desired. So how about it, kid?”

Logan was gobsmacked. The crown prince had not only seen him but was impressed enough to send an invitation to learn magic at a special new magic school.

“Wait, what do I have to do for the prince in return?”

“Absolutely nothing. The offer is completely free of any fees or deceptive dealings. I promise. The prince even sent this with me to make sure you could have physical proof if so desired.” Remy stated, producing a scroll from inside his jacket.

Emile and Logan both looked over the document and found no problems. It was a straightforward invitation for Logan to study magic at the prince’s new school, with promises to provide anything he could need while he was living at said school, and nothing more. The father and son shared a thoughtful glance. It was definitely an opportunity.

Emile smiled. “Do it.”

“Really? You think I should accept?”

“A chance like this only comes around once, and I can always hire someone if I need the help. Follow your dreams kiddo.” Emile said with an encouraging smile.

Logan bit his lip as he considered things. He really hadn’t thought today could get any better, then this happened. He was worried about leaving his dad, but Emile had told him to take this chance. And he was right about this being a once in a lifetime opportunity. Besides, Remy had said he could still visit the town on the weekends…

“Okay. I accept.”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask. [Also, here's a link to chapter 1]

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

#sanderssides #sander sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #ts logan sanders #ts logan #remy sanders #emile picani #fantasy au #Thomas Sanders Sides Big Bang 2021 #food mention tw

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claudiarya · 3 years

Text

Hey guys, I’ve written a post RoW fanfiction. I warn you that it has a death trope in it, so beware.

You can also read it on Ao3 as well.

Count words: 5990

Hope Suite

They didn’t know the moment when it all went wrong. Had it been when Kaz had accepted the job? Had it been when Inej had left Pekka Rollins alive, or when they had kept going despite all the adversities, they had encountered? The events of the last days were starting to become a blurring reel, that had done nothing but confuse them. What had started as a fairly easy job for the queen of Ravka, it then had turned out to be a major standoff with their enemies, which was putting not just one country, but the whole world as they knew it in peril. Maybe it had all gone downhill when Jarl Brum had managed to escape his prison cell at Hellgate, aided by one of his most trusted Drüskelle, his mind already too corrupted by the former General’s manipulations.

By the time he had been set free again, and had sought revenge against his detested neighbors, specifically against the witch queen and her monstrous husband, Inej, Kaz and his crew had already been too involved with their task to worry about it. How could they have known that once out, Brum was going to use everything in his power to bend Ravka? The Fjerdan man was aware that he couldn’t compete with its ruler, so he had worked out a different strategy entirely: if he couldn’t hope to win in a direct confrontation, he was going to annihilate her and her subjects from within, even if it would cost the destruction of his own country and more…

They didn’t know how Brum had gotten the information, but he had travelled to the mountains and had somehow liberated a certain shadow summoner from his sacrifice of eternal of pain, well before Zoya could do as she had planned. The shadow summoner in question had disappeared without a trace, only the Saints knew where he could have gone to hide away.

Needless to say, the darkness and its vampiric actions had started to spread again, at twice the speed. It looked like a ravenous beast had been set lose. It had extended in other countries as well, a silent and unannounced menace ravishing everything in its wake, that terrified even sailors at sea. If that wasn’t enough, Brum had also found out about Dirtyhand’s ‘involvement’ with the queen, and had made an ally with an ex Barrel boss, who had lost all his fortunes and power to a teenage crippled kid. Two powerful and dangerous men driven by their thirst for revenge had revealed themselves to be even more unstoppable than any of them had originally believed.

***

Inej remembered when Kaz had asked her to take a short leave from her sea voyages, to run one last time with him and the other crows in this task in which her skills at gathering information were going to be fundamental. Jesper had, of course, already accepted his friend’s proposition, and if at first Wylan had been skeptical, he had ended up joining the crew for the job. Perhaps for his natural instinct to follow wherever the gangly sharpshooter went, or maybe for the fact that he had made friends with the King consort, their shared love for science and ‘infernal gadgets’, as Kaz would call them, a fertile ground for common understanding.

“I won’t force you to do anything,” he had rasped to her while sitting on the roof ledge at the Slat to watch the tepid Ketterdam sun slowly blinking into existence in front of them; their intertwined fingers a testimony of how far they had already conquered together. The only thing that hadn’t won yet was their insomnia.

“Your particular set of skills is needed for this job, but I understand if you don’t want to be dragged into this,” Kaz had continued, and she had known he had slightly turned his head in her direction, as she had kept her eyes on the dawn.

After a while and still no answer from her he had sighed.

“Inej, what I’m trying to say is that we need you. I need you. I don’t think I can do this without you, so please tell me now, so I can send back a definite answer to Her Royal Pain.”

The Suli girl had marveled at his words: she didn’t think she had ever heard Kaz admit out loud that he couldn’t do something without the help of someone else.

“I’ll do it,” she had exclaimed, now turning her gaze on his stone-carved features. “But on one condition: I want Queen Zoya to help me fight against the slave trade in Ravka, and I want her to promise me that human traffickers are going to find the justice they deserve in her country.”

Kaz had squeezed her hand, the look in his eyes an oath to himself as well as to her.

***

Inej clutched her hand on her injured arm. She could feel the blood on her palm, as she watched Kaz keeping at cane point the last of the men who had tried to kill them. Their lead for the relic of Santk Feliks’s heart had taken them here, in an obscure abandoned, or so they thought, monastery on the Ravkan coast, right on the border with Fjerda. They had found out that centuries before, the order of religious men inhabiting the place had been the resting place of the only remaining part of the Saint. An easy reconnaissance job, an easy trail to follow. But ever since the spreading of the blight, of the Kilyklava, nothing had been easy. It was as if for every movement they made, their enemies were ten steps ahead of them. Inej had never seen anyone outsmart Kaz like that. Usually, he was the one who had everything under control, who could predict every outturn, every maneuver his opponents were going to make. But instead, everywhere they had attempted to gather information, they had encountered a setup of sorts: mainly the place they had intended to scout, burnt to the ground. Had they a spying traitor in their mix? Inej had never seen him more on edge than she had in the last month, but now they had passed the pretense of this being another job. It had stopped being that when the world hab been threatened by an unstoppable force and Pekka Rollins had entered the picture. It was personal. And she suspected that he was also trying to keep true to the promise he had made her.

Inej had thought they had planned this out so carefully, she was sure they would not encounter any unpleasant surprise this time. After the too many (not) coincidences, they had started scheming their way for the hunt of the heart with only the four of them and Nikolai and Zoya, who had had to, although begrudgingly, leave out the Triumvirate and their closest friends from this particular matter of international importance. How was it possible then, that their traces had been tracked even here? Kaz and Inej had offered for the job, a quick break in into the abandoned archives of the monastery, while Nikolai, Jesper and Wylan would wait for them on the Volkvolny to pick them up and leave after they had completed their task. Perhaps a smaller party was going to attract less attentions, their rouse of a devoted young group of people had served them well in the little town around the old holy building, and they had played their parts too well that Inej had forgotten for an instant that they had a bigger goal in mind. She was never going to forget the easy talk, the laughs they had shared around the table of the little tavern they had resided in, her hand clasped together with Kaz as a sort of lifeline for the both of them; her head resting delicately on his chest as they were lying down on the little bed they shared.

The four men that have been sent to kill them had caught them by surprise. Again.

Kaz had just uttered “We’ve got what we need, let’s go,” when the first thug that had tried to sneak up on him. Inej had made a quick work of the assassins, if her knives embedded in two of the men’s throats were of any indication. Despite that, one of the others had managed to graze her arm with a bullet, when she had momentarily lost her focus because the remaining one had kicked Kaz’s bad leg, eliciting a sound of pain from him. If only Jesper and Wylan had been there with them.

As she hobbled to where he was standing, Inej realized that Kaz was shaking from the effort of not to keel over in pain, his hand gripping the crow’s head of his cane so tightly, she feared he was going to snap it in half.

“Kaz...” she started

“You’re bleeding,” he rasped, diverting his gaze from the man to her, for the briefest of moments.

“It’s nothing,” she said. But she could see that he wasn’t really convinced, and with a soft grunt, he fished from his pocket a handkerchief and handed it to her, before asking to the person on the ground.

“How did you know we would be here?” his eyes two unforgiving coals.

The hired assassin didn’t answer at first but gave away in a little chuckle instead. Suddenly Kaz, still balancing his weight mostly on his good leg, brought down his cane on one of the man’s own legs. His scream of pain echoed around them in the old room.

“It doesn’t feel good, does it?” he said. This was Dirtyhands himself, any trace of the young man he had been with her at the tavern, vaporized.

“Now, tell me how you knew we were here, or I’m going to break every bone you have, and we both know how pleasant that is.”

The man chuckled again, but then he started talking.

“At times one shouldn’t look for spiders,” he said with a sickening grin. “At times, it’s the little insects nobody sees or cares to check because they’re believed to be harmless that tip the scales.”

Inej could see Kaz’s mind trying to figure out the man’s words, his gaze distant.

In that moment she realized that she was never going to tire to see that look on his face. Nor any other looks for that matter. Wobbly, the boy in question turned to her, he took the kerchief she had been pressing on her wound from her hand, and before she could realize what he was doing he tore it a bit and tied it around her bloody arm.

“Let’s get out of here,” he stated, wincing visibly as he made to move towards the door.

The man started laughing again as if Kaz had said something so funny he couldn’t control himself. Inej was on him before she could think. A knee on the thug’s sternum and her blade pressed to his throat.

“What’s so funny?” she inquired, looking down at him with disdain. She was tired, and she wanted to bring Kaz back to the Volkvolny, to get his leg looked properly after.

“In the end, you really are nothing but two delusional kids,” the man said, and Inej could feel his voice reverberate from under her knee.

“Stop speaking in riddles, or I swear to all the Saints known I’ll cut your throat right this second.”

He raised one hand in a gesture of mocking surrender. “Let’s just say that nobody is leaving this place alive,” he conceded.

“What do you mean?” asked Kaz from somewhere behind her, his tone menacing yet on guard. The tip of Inej’s knife scraped the man’s throat when he didn’t immediately answer back, two droplets of blood slid down the blade.

“This place and the whole town are about to be razed down by bombs and cannons. General Brum’s ships are approaching. They wanted to make sure our precious king consort and his flying machine didn’t leave this place unscathed. There’s no escaping your tragic fate now.” He snarled. His voice couldn’t conceal the hate he had for Nikolai, so he must have been one of those Ravkans from the West, unhappy with who was ruling over them now.

“No,” Inej said softly, and shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re lying!”

The man’s eyes lit with a manic light. “The world shall end in flames and darkness before being ruled by Gri –” He never finished his sentence, as Kaz brought down his cane once again, this time on his head.

The silence that followed could have lasted a minute or an eternity, Inej couldn’t be sure.

“Kaz,” she started again while standing.

“You need to leave. Now. I can’t walk, I think my leg is broken, but you need to leave me here and run from this place.” Kaz said, turning to look at her, the desperation palpable in his voice

“I’m not leaving,” she approached him. “We need to warn Nikolai. Tell them all to leave.”

“Inej – ”

“Either pick up the comm and call them, or give it to me, Kaz. We’re only losing time like this.” Her tone was unmovable.

Without any more protests on his part, he took out the little ingenious device Wylan and Nikolai had come up with. It permitted them to communicate even from quite long distances.

“Crow 1 and 2 to Too Clever Fox, do you copy?”

For the briefest of instants only there was only the sound of static, but then.

“Too Clever Fox here, I copy you. Kaz? What’s going on?” came the king’s voice.

“Nikolai, listen to me: you have to leave. Now. Get the Volkvolny and depart. This monastery, this town is about to be razed down by bombs. They knew we would be here; Brum’s ships are approaching. You – ”

“We’re coming to get you,” Nikolai interrupted him.

“No, there’s no time for that. You have to leave here now, or it will all be for nothing.” He looked at Inej then, his eyes searching hers in the dim light of the room with evident resignation.

“No! Kaz, Inej, no, we’re coming and we’re all surviving this.” Another protest from a different voice, Jesper’s.

“No! You have to listen and be quiet. I know where the thing we’ve looked for is. It’s hidden somewhere under the little place you train your soldiers. I also know how they’ve been able to predict our every move. Bugs. Check the war room for devices of the sort we’re using right now.”

“I will,” was Nikolai’s response.

There was another brief pause of static, Kaz spoke again, before he could be interrupted

“Jesper, Wylan,” he said. “The Crow Club and everything else is yours and Nina’s. You’ll find all the documents in my office back at the Slat. Do with them whatever you think it’s right.”

“Kaz, please we still have time, we can come and get you.” It was Wylan’s voice now that came from the other side.

Inej got closer and circled the hand in which Kaz was gripping the device with her own. “Wylan, you have to leave. Right now, ring the alarm bell of the town and go.” She started and then said:

“Guys… find my parents, tell them – tell them what happened, and that it was all for something better. We love you.”

Another anguished call for their names echoed around the room they were standing.

Inej took a breath a finished what she meant to say. “Nikolai the Wraith… take good care of her, and don’t forget our promise. When you see Nina and Zoya tell them – ”

She couldn’t finish the sentence the threat of tears pricking her eyes. Luckily the privateer answered back.

“I’ll tell them, and I promise everything we did by far will not be in vain. Thank you, my friends. We will never forget what you did for Ravka and for all of us.”

Kaz and Inej could also hear the subtle sounds of distress of their friends, their family. She realized in that moment how much all of them meant to her. Funny how life had a tendency to remind you how deeply you loved someone when you’re about to lose everything.

Kaz brought the device back on his lips and in a clear voice said: “No mourners…” and before they could hear an answer coming from the other side, he had already thrown on the ground the device and smashed it with the tip of his cane.

The movement made so that he lost his balance. He would have crashed on the ground if Inej hadn’t been there to prevent the fall. She brought his arm over and shoulder and steadied him.

Kaz looked at her intently, his face turned in her direction, his eyes scanning her features and she knew what he was about to tell her even before he spoke the words.

“Inej, you can still make it, you’re fast, you have to run and save yourself.”

“I knew you were going to say this, but if you think that I could ever leave you behind you’re sorely mistaken.”

He did not relent, and as stubbornly as ever he removed his arm from around her shoulder, he gripped his cane with all his might so as not to fall again and faced her.

“Inej, please. Run now. Live. You have so much you still have to give to this wretched world.” Kaz Brekker never said please, never. Yet here he was, a broken boy standing in front of the girl he had grown to love.

“I can’t do that,” Inej simply replied while shaking her head in denial.

“It was all my fault, and you can’t pay my foolishness with your life, I won’t allow it. It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it.”

She took the short distance separating them and put her hand atop his on his cane.

“None of this was your fault, you have to get that straight. We’ve done something good, we helped our friends, our countries. And you’ll always be worth it to me.”

At her words she felt his breath hitch, but still his eyes held behind them a strange resolution.

“I can’t be the reason why you die here today, why can’t you understand that?” Kaz’s voice cracked, perhaps with the effort of holding back his desperation. Inej brought her free hand up and gently cupped his face with her palm. Her thumb grazed his cheek in a loving gesture.

“I’m not afraid to die, Kaz. But I’m terrified at the idea of a life without you in it. So, no. I’m not leaving, not now, not ever.”

***

As they stumbled outside the musty room of the monastery, Kaz with an arm draped around Inej’s shoulder for support, the Autumnal sun had started its descent. The soft orange and purple hues of the rays reflected on the sea surface, and the waves created a gentle melody. Inej couldn’t help but think that this was the Saints’ way to lead them onto their next job, their next adventure…

They dragged their feet until they were near the shore and lowered themselves down. For a moment that felt like an eternity, they gazed to the horizon, the sheer but peaceful resignation palpable in the air.

When Kaz clasped her hand and looked at her, she remembered a conversation she had overhead between the boy and Zoya.

They had adjourned their meeting after having gone over their plan again, everyone had stepped out of the room except for Kaz and Zoya, who had prevented him from exiting with a question. Curious as to why he hadn’t joined her outside, she had stayed behind the closed door, waiting in the long corridor. She had known that Kaz, and probably the queen too, were aware that she was there, but she hadn’t cared much.

“Just out of curiosity, why are you doing this Mr. Kerch rat?” she had asked, her voice reverberating even outside.

“I thought it was pretty obvious, Your Highness. It’s for the reward.” He had replied in that wry tone of his that she knew drove Zoya crazy.

“Oh, but I don’t think it’s just that.” Even without having been inside, Inej could picture the other woman taking one of the positions she had learned the queen preferred. Arms crossed and a frowned expression to better look down on him. In the crows’ time at the palace, the two Suli women had formed an easy and quiet friendship. The captain of the Wraith had helped her queen to reacquaint herself with her Suli heritage and Inej had even told Zoya that once the situation was over, she was going to bring her to her family caravans, to spend some time amongst their people. They had become sisters at heart and by blood.

“Enlighten me with your glorious knowledge then.”

Kaz had always liked playing with fire, but he was always walking a fine line with the sovereign of Ravka. Perhaps he wanted to see how much she could take before she decided to strike him out of existence on the spot.

“When you saw that this was getting dangerous, that it wasn’t going to be an easy job, you could have easily dropped everything and return to Ketterdam with you crew. Why didn’t you? Why stay when you knew the risks?”

Inej had heard genuine interest in Zoya’s voice that didn’t bore any resentment.

“I don’t know what you want me to answer.”

“Try with the truth, I know it’s hard for you, but indulge me. I know you’re not doing this just for yourself and your own benefit, as shockingly as it may seem. You’re still here for Inej, for the promise we had sworn to keep.” The queen had said as if she had found out the deepest secret of the man standing before her.

“Let me get this straight,” he had rasped. “I’ll always do what’s best for me, but I’m also a man of my word and I made a promise.”

There had been a few seconds of absolute silence, in which probably Zoya had studied him with those piercing blue eyes of hers.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but under certain aspects we’re not that different you and I. Your prickly behavior can only last so long, Kaz, but eventually you’ll have to let go. I’ve learned that even the thickest thorns have their purposes.” The queen had said with a wisdom that at times made Inej wondered how many lives the queen had already lived.

“Ah, but here’s where your wrong, Your Excellency. In this scenario you’re comparing me to thorn wood, while actually I’m just barren land on which nothing grows.”

His lapidary answer would have been enough to render speechless anyone, but not Zoya the Grisha queen of Ravka. In her spectacular talent at having always the last word she told him: “You’ll realize that you can’t keep up this cold demeanor forever. I just hope it won’t be too late when you do.”

***

Inej squeezed Kaz’s hand tighter and looked him straight in his brown eyes, a shade lighter in the orange sun. From a distance they heard the sound of bells. Their friends had managed to give the alarm, she only hoped they were already on their way back to the palace. The tolls were shortly followed by another sound: propellers guiding the Fjerdan ships to face the town and the monastery. With a small smile grazing her feature she told him said.

“You were wrong. You were wrong that time when you spoke with Zoya.” If at the beginning of her sentence he had seemed confused, now she could see he understood what conversation she meant.

“You’re not just barren land, Kaz. You managed to build something from nothing, you survived all those terrible things in your life and in the process, you managed to grow, to thrive, to do something good for Ravka and your friends. I’m sure your brother would be proud of you. I know I am.” He didn’t reply.

The rumbling of the aircrafts was almost cacophonic, in contrast to the peace they had basked in not a few minutes ago. Despite that, it was as if the two of them had been placed in a protective bubble of their own, in which not even those machines of war could destroy.

Perhaps it was the lightening, but Inej swore those were unshed tears glinting in Kaz’s eyes. In all the years she had known him, she had never even seen him get emotional or choked up about something, but here, now, on this shore with her, Dirtyhands was doing just that.

“I’ve never wanted for it to end like this – his shoulders shook as he held back a sob – for us, to end like this. Inej, believe me when I tell you that if I could go back, I would do so many things differently. If I could go back, I would start to show you how much I admire you, how much I love you so much earlier than I did.”

Inej’s hand found his face again. The tip of her fingers skimmed his lips in such a tender gesture that they parted under her touch.

“There’s no need for that, Kaz, I already know. And it doesn’t matter how early or late you started. You show me you love me every day.” Her limb continued on her exploration: she touched his brow, his eyes, his cheekbones. “I propose a deal: I’ll find you in the next life Kaz Rietveld, and even there I’ll be waiting for you perched on your windowsill feeding the crows.”

Still looking at her straight in the eye, he let go of her hand, removed his gloves discarding them on the sand and rubbed her disheveled braid between two trembling fingers.

“The deal is the deal. I’ll find you there then.”

The rumble of the ship cannons had reached a deafening peak as their beams struck mercilessly on the monastery in an unescapable trap of fire.

Before the very end, the two held themselves up on trembling knees and embraced the other. A small smile of resigned happiness on both of their faces.

“Stay with me,” Kaz whispered, and unlike another and far time her answer was clear.

“Always.” Inej swore.

Saints protect us both, was the last thing she thought.

And then there was nothing but searing light.

***

In Os Alta the feast on Sankt Nikolai was fast approaching, but even if she was the queen Zoya didn’t feel much festive. The white, still landscape of her country at this time of the year was an accurate representation of what she had been feeling ever since they had managed to find the heart of Sankt Feliks, save Ravka from the plague and its enemies with another peace treaty and bring the Darkling – or Aleksander as he insisted to be called – back to the little palace where they could control him. She knew they were taking a risk, but it was safer to have him closer than not knowing where he was. It had been a hard decision, but she wasn’t going to murder him in cold blood, she was not going to turn into a monster, as he had in his lust for power. In his loneliness.

When everything had come back to a pseudo- normality, when she had had time to think and just be, it was then that everything she had been holding back for the sake of her country hit her with tenfold the force.

Zoya had understood that keeping emotions bottled inside you, was going to eat you alive in the longer run. It was something she was learning every day, and that she was willing to change, if only a bit. She had started letting go in the small gestures of affection she shared with Genya, in the loving words she had with Nikolai, in the playful banters she occasionally allowed herself to have with the rest of her friends. Her family.

And so, as the Grisha queen strode towards her garden, the winter sun barely a strip on the horizon of a new morning, she couldn’t help the tears that fell down in two cold streaks down her face. Zoya brought an arm up to dry them, the sensation of the thick wool of her winter kefta both prickly and a reassurance.

She opened the door of the little corner of her world. Nobody entered this sanctuary except for Nikolai, since she hadn’t allowed anybody else to see her soul from that close. The structure her king had built for her always managed to leave her speechless. The glass and iron were combined in perfect harmony, and when Zoya worked in it by day, the sun would cast and create a series of little mesmerizing rainbows. However, what would always speak to her were the walls, painted by Alina. The roaring dragon flying, the little fox, the ship resembling the Volkvolny mastering the sea, the colors and symbols of the Grisha orders were her most trusted companions during the solitary hours of her gardening.

It was there where Nikolai found her, tending to her plants and flowers. She heard him enter her safe haven, and she supposed he had come out to her when he had awoken and hadn’t seen her resting beside him. He approached her and kneeled beside where she was on the ground, a rather small pot between her hands. Nikolai knew that when she was working here like this, he would have had to let go of his privateer side, and just be the man she had fallen in love with and married. In short, he needed to be her anchor.

“Those are nice flowers,” he said, pointing to the little thing with red petals. A genuine interest coloring his voice.

“They’re wild geraniums.” Was Zoya’s noncommittal answer. Her eyes hadn’t looked up at him.

“And what is that other sprout beside the flowers?” Nikolai prompted her again, indicating the smaller, yet visible plant growing alongside the geraniums. It looked like it was enveloping the geraniums in an embrace, its green leaves a stark, yet so right, contrast with the red of the petals.

This time she raised her gaze, and her blue orbs found a pair of comforting hazel ones staring back at him.

“It’s ivy.” Again, she didn’t let herself go into any sort of explanation.

“I remember you with a vase like this when you left for the Suli caravans.”

So, he had noticed, of course he had. Zoya was always taken aback by the fact that when it came to her, Nikolai was even a closer observant than he already was.

As soon as everything had settled after the whole ordeal, she had decided that she was going to be the one to bring the news to the Ghafas. Her and only her with no escort and no Nikolai in tow. She had told him that she had to do this particular thing alone, and he had just hugged her and encouraged her to go. It had been a spiritual journey of sorts; one she had promised her other Suli sister they would take together…

“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “They were Inej’s favorite flowers. I brought a pot to her parents when I visited the camps. It was the least I could.” With her hand she showed him other three little vases with the same brightly colored flowers and green little sprout of ivy on the side. “Those are for Nina, Jesper and Wylan. It’s their present for Sankt Nikolai.”

“Zoya,” he started. She knew they’ve been over this before, and yet she couldn’t seem to let her sense of guilt leave her.

“They knew what they were doing, it was their choice.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t make it any easier, Nikolai. When I met her parents – she shook her head – they treated me like their own. Like I was family. I’ve never felt so accepted, so… seen in my life, except for when I’m with you. And yet I’m part of the reason why their daughter has been taken away from them. They both have been taken away from them.” A small moment of silence, and once again she couldn’t stop the little tear escaping the corner of her eye.

“I just don’t understand how there can be such kindness after so much loss.” Zoya wondered out loud.

“It’s the nature of human beings, and also our strength.” Nikolai said. “Even after losing everything, we find it in ourselves to get back on our feet and fight for something new, something worth all the suffering.” He dragged himself closer to Zoya with his arms and then raised a hand to cup her cheek, gently steering her face in his direction. His thumb brushing away the stray tear marking her face.

“As long as there is life, there is happiness, Zoya. There is hope for a brighter future. And that’s exactly what Kaz and Inej had brought us: hope to build something better from the ashes.” He paused and behind his eyes she could see the same emotions that had been haunting her, testimony of the fact that he too had been grieving his friends.

“Don’t let your sorrow squander the hope they enabled with their sacrifice, because you wouldn’t be honoring their memories in that ways.”

“Oh, Nikolai,” she exhaled before throwing her arms around him with such a force he momentarily lost his balance. “Thank you!”

“Any time, my queen. I’ll always be here.” He promised.

“And besides, you know how much I love when I’m being all smart and wise. I couldn’t let this occasion to show it to you slip by.” He finished with a much brighter tone. Zoya softly chuckled, something she hadn’t thought being capable of mere months ago and told him with fake exasperation.

“Of course, you couldn’t. It’s your modesty I fell for after all.”

They remained in each other’s arms for an indefinite amount of time. The only indication of the time passing was the sun which har finally risen, and now was beating on the glass panels of the garden. Zoya continued tending to her plants, all a part of her in some capacity, as Nikolai watched her in a comforting silence, seated on the ground and with his back against a small tree.

“Why the ivy?” he asked her all of a sudden. His eyes returning once again on the pots near him.

“It can grow even in poor soils and although it requires more time for it to bloom than other plants, when it does its resilience it’s unmatched.” Zoya saw Nikolai nodding in understanding.

“I also found the meaning behind it fitting,” She added.

“What’s the meaning?”

“It symbolizes the constancy of love.”

There was a brief silence in which she saw him taking in the information.

“It is as fitting as it is beautiful,” he said, while he rose to his feet and brought her closer once again, placing a soft kiss on her dark mane.

As they left to go back to the palace, hand in hand, Zoya thought to herself that in life there were people whose souls were connected and strung in ways that couldn’t be explained by logic. She looked at Nikolai walking alongside her and smiled softly to herself, sure she had found the missing piece of her complicated puzzle in the golden boy beside her.

Her gait hadn’t felt this light in months.

In a glass garden, in a country ruled by a powerful Grisha queen with the heart of a dragon, a plant of geraniums and ivy grew stronger by the day, forever entwined in their embrace of constant love for the other.

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novels-lover · 3 years

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Review of this son of York.

This is one of the most recent fictional novels about the life of Richard III from his childhood to his death, how is it different from other books? Well, it includes the scoliosis of Richard III as something crucial in his life that defines his character, despite the fact that the author seems to have a positive opinion of RIII in other books that she has written releated to him in this novel RIII is not innocent of all the crimes of those that history has accused him over the centuries, rather the book seeks to present us a balanced portrait of RIII, so he is not a misunderstood hero as in other recent books, the truth is that the book does not have success portraying his childhood that ended up being an illogical and simple portrait, his adolescence is affected by scoliosis and the problems of the country at this point the book does present an interesting, dark, insecure, ambitious character but not a bad person, here i would say that the book improves and becomes a quick read although it sacrifices the descriptive details in the process which does not allow you to get involved in the plot or in the scenarios, even so it becomes a good reading it develops the facts in an entertaining way, the ending is very well achieved with a dramatic and nostalgic touch, it is not a bad book but to be recent it leaves out many facts that are known from history of RIII, it is not the best book about RIII not the worst has good moments so I give it 3 stars no five because throughout the book many events become absurd.

SPOILERS

Anne Easter the author of this book has been writing novels about the family and even Richard's mistress who according to her book (A rose for the crown) gave him 3 children, and in this book she finally decided to take RIII as her character main bringing back to Kate the mistress presented in a rose for the crown, the books are not exactly a saga so it is not necessary to read the others to understand this one or any other.

Richard is a child who grows up in hard times, he faces the death of his father and political betrayals, which makes him a strong child who learns about justice and life (the lessons are credible but they are presented to him and absorbed in a rather ridiculous way), he is sent to the house of his cousin Richard Neville Kingmaker with whom he creates a bond, there he meets other childrens who will be his friends but unlike other books in this case Rob Percy is initially the closest to Richard not Francis Lovell, during these years of training Richard experiences a physical attraction a bit sexualized by Isabel Neville the eldest daughter of his mentor the kingmaker , Richard is almost a teenager like Isabel so this adoration is understandable but unfortunately she he ignores Richard because she likes Geroge of clarence Richard's hated brother with whom he can never get along because of the bulling and the incompatibility of personalities Geroge is an idiot ambitious and Richard is loyal and hardworking (the book does not do a great job showing these positive things in Richard at least not convincingly) Richard soon gets over his "adoration" for Isabel, oh by the way around fluttering like a butterfly is Anne Neville ,Isabel's younger sister who is almost obsessed with Richard whom she sees as a hero Why? No idea , he does nothing but treat her with contempt and manipulate her during those years but Anne seems to be determined to be a victim of life from the beginning. Richard soon begins to be independent and gets a mistress named Kate with whom he has a relationship of pure love and passion (quite romanticized and totally tragic: a royal duke and she a poor nobody) they have three children but Kate will hide the last one from him, Why? For Richard not to have this son on his conscience and go to his political marriage guilt-free (despite the fact that he was conceived before he got married which makes this part absurd and stupid, I mean two bastard children have to be accepeted by his future wife but THREE ?? (would be impossible according to kate's logic), the good thing is that we do not read so much of this cloying and silly romance, although it is clear to us that Kate is and will always be Richard's true love.

Richard suffers bitterly, the scoliosis feels that God punishes him and becomes pious (although he sleeps with Kate who is married and not to him obviosly ) the scoliosis bothers him a lot and is worse when he ends up in Exile in Burgundy for the second time in his life because his brother loses the throne, and more painful for Richard is knowing that his mentor Kingmaker is on the other side fighting for the Lancaster house and has also given his youngest daughter Anne Neville in marriage to Prince Edward of Lancaster that affects Richard and he is like: Nooo Anne! They say that Edward is a monster for sure it will be bad on her and now that I think about it, I would like her for a wife because of her pedigree (So Richard was an idiot with Anne but he is a Duke of York so it's okay, not that this Edward is a Lancaster so he does not have permission to be an idiot with Anne ok ....) Richard triumphs as a commander of his brothe York won and he becomes a hero, everything seems to be going well he has a good relationship with his brother the King and even with his sister-in-law queen Elizabeth, but the ugly part is that his duty is to assassinate the deposed King Henry VI whom he kills with his own hands (It sounds like something stolen from Shakespeare's play, it is also done in an absurd way, it is something like "take off clumsy mercenary I will do it ") from that moment Richard is convinced that God punishes him for this murder and the scoliosis worsens which leads him to develop mood swings and outbursts of anger, he goes to rule the north and decides to marry Anne Neville who lost her husband during the last battle of course that she is still stupidly in love with Richard, he leaves his mistress and promises to focus on his wife Anne who is a strong and sweet girl loving him nonetheless his bastards or his scolicis, she bears his mood swings, the love he always keeps in his heart for kate over the years, and waits in the sanctuary for months because Richard is a bit clumsy negotiating for their marriage with his brothers, thir life together is not so bad in general and he is faithful (in body because in mind he couldn't stop thinking about Kate even after Anne's death he falls into her arms again) he treats Anne with respect but he is not the husband of the year, for him Anne is a consolation but she will never be Kate who he sees through the years and he even uses his children as a remembrance of that love, all this while Anne goes around rubbing his sore back, being a good stepmother, a good wife, an excellent consort, and loving him madly, which I never understood, except to make love to her with charm, he does not do much to make her happy. (seriously Anne why did you love him all your life?).

Richard manages the north with efficiency and sees happy how is killed George Clarence his brother, not only he does not care about him but it seems good to him that they kill him as always they hated each other is understandable or should be but is not ( Richard felt gulty and sad for killing Henry VI, he became pious and God fearing but then he goes to support his own brother's murder for not reason apart from their childish fights every three or more years that they meet each other but it seems that was good for the plot so Richard kills someone else )

He becomes King at the death of his brother Edward with the typical version, Edward's non-legal marriage, Buckigham manipulates everything (Richard becomes alcoholic as events progress and does not use his logic much to unravel all the conspiracies), I was surprised that he will not kill the princes (Shakespeare must be disappointed), his niece elizabeth falls in love with him, Why? No idea at this point Richard is not only angry all the time but also a little out of control with the situation but she loves him, and gets angry when he rejects her "I hate you man I will marry Henry Tudor" (as if she had a vote in the bussines) The ending explains well the betrayal and the mental state of Richard I think that the most redeemable in general is this Richard that is dark quite complex but does not convince me especially considering that he was a man who even today generates hate or love, they had reasons to hate him but I saw few to love him, I think only Kate and Edward could consider him a good person in this book because he trated them well almost always, I recognize that the character is well done the author does a good job with him but I am not convinced nor do I like him I think he is terribly poorly balanced and the book for me is full of silly or a little absurd things that ruined the story, in general I am disappointed to know that now with so much information avaliable Anne easter still went for myths instead of go for facts or use her logic .

#anne neville #richard iii #george duke of clarence #anne Neville #isabel neville #anne easter

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