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101flavoursofweird · 4 years

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Brenda deserves better.

I’ve talked about some of the other under-appreciated PL ladies like Katia, Janice/Melina and Marina. Now here’s Brenda.

In PL4, Brenda appears in a grand total of two cutscenes (with 0 voiced speaking lines), in a bonus episode and a few credit pictures. At first glance, her character profile doesn’t give us much insight into her personality either. She doesn’t get her own description in the PL4 character section of The World of Professor Layton, just a quick summary in Luke’s Family section. It’s easy to see why people don’t get immediately attached to her.

There are plenty of other female characters in PL4, even those who aren’t ‘reoccurring characters’, who leave a much bigger impression— Rosa, Emmy, Arianna, Loosha, Marylin, Wren (A lot of my personal favourites!)... Listing them all now, I’m just realising that it’s no wonder Brenda doesn’t stand out!

We first hear about Brenda when Layton asks Clark how she’s doing. Clark replies dismissively, ‘My wife is fine. She’s away. Family matters.’ Liam O'Brien doesn’t get enough credit for how well he plays Clark. Seriously, as much as he snaps at Luke, if you replay PL4 you can hear the anxiety hidden in Clark’s voice. He then quickly moves on to Luke. Layton says that he hasn’t seen Luke since he was a baby, which would suggest he hasn’t seen Brenda since then either.

Brenda enjoys travelling, as her character profile indicates, so her absence wouldn’t seem too suspicious at first for Layton. However, it’s the manner in which she left that’s odd. If you talk to Brenda’s NPC friend, Thomas, he’ll discuss Brenda’s departure with Luke. Brenda would usually chat about her travel plans with Thomas, but this time, she left without a word. Thomas wonders if there’s a reason for this. He notes that Brenda always loved family vacations, unless she and Clark were fighting... He could be referring to fights Brenda and Clark have had in the past, or to more recent fights during the spectre attacks. Brenda noticed how Clark was acting like a different person after Evan Barde’s death (something Luke also picks up on), so that might have led to some misunderstandings.

Luke thinks his mum left because she couldn’t deal with his dad anymore. (Or that Clark had even hidden Brenda away!) But she would never just leave without telling Luke.

Beth the maid notes that Clark has changed since Brenda left and she’s been hearing noises from the Tritons’ cellar.

As awful as it would be for anyone to be trapped in a dank cellar for months on end, it must have been especially awful for someone who loves travelling. And in their own house too! Sure, Angela got locked in a hotel room. Yeah, Flora was trapped in a barn. Bill Hawks got taken to Future London for like a week—no one cares. But at least they all got rescued fairly quickly. Much like Angela, Brenda had a hunch about the villain in her town... and she ended up getting imprisoned by Descole.

When Brenda and Doland escape from the cellar, Brenda’s first concern is Luke and Clark’s safety. Emmy asks if she’s OK, but Brenda doesn’t answer. She’s just shocked to hear that Luke is with the professor. Professor Who? Hershel Layton?! Again, this suggests Layton hasn’t seen Brenda for many years— since Luke was a baby.

In Layton’s bonus episode with Clark, Layton mentions how Clark and Brenda have always been close. Layton is the one to suggest that the Tritons should come back to London.

Sadly, we don’t get a conversation between Luke and Brenda, or Clark and Brenda, during PL4.

We do learn that Luke is protective of the bear his mum got him for his birthday. There’s also the heartbreaking bit about Luke calling out to his mum in his sleep while she was missing. But then, we get THIS precious picture from the PL4 credits:

Thankfully, we get more interactions with Brenda during Azran Legacy, and we get more of a feel for her personality. Luke spots his mum in Kensington High Street and wants to say hello to her with Aurora. Brenda is surprised to see Luke, as she thought he was off on a trip with Professor Layton. (She actually calls Layton ‘Hershel’ when she speaks to him!) Brenda is quite happy to let Luke tag along with Layton. Though, she does tell Luke to be on his best behaviour— no reckless rushing around.

Luke mentions in a dialogue box that he got his blue cap from the fancy hat shop in Misthallery. @laytonerd came up with the idea that Brenda may have bought Luke his classic hat. (In the Layton universe, giving someone a hat is a sign of love*.) And from what we see of Brenda during Azran Legacy... yeah, that sounds about right.

I love how something so simple like the Dress Up Minigame can reveal so much about a character. Brenda is elevated from Loving Mother to Hippie Angel Lady. That quirky part of her personality was already alluded to in her character profile. But now we see that Brenda doesn’t just collect odd souvenirs... She has a very unique style as well. (Her top hat appears to be inspired by Hershel’s top hat—again, adding some weight to their friendship!) Luke thinks her whole outfit is just too much, but Clark thinks she looks stunning and it suits her to a T. This is probably just one outfit amidst a huge wardrobe of wacky outfits. Perfect for Brenda and Clark’s wedding anniversary! Clark states that Brenda’s angel outfit reminds him of when they first started seeing each other... and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve her, making Brenda blush. Luke wants no part in this.

Brenda’s favourite colour is yellow. A colour associated with the sun, flowers, hope, cheerfulness and energy. (Like Emmy!) But it’s also associated with sickness, cowardice and deceit. (Again, relating to Emmy!) I wouldn’t call Brenda a coward, but she was a pawn in Descole’s plan and it probably took some time for her to recover from that. But, from her demeanour, she seems cheerful when she’s in London!

Brenda’s obviously quite close to Doland too. He worries about her when they escape from the cellar. It’s not like he does all the chores around the house! Brenda is the one to cook Luke’s favourite meal (roast lamb) when their family is reunited. Brenda knew when something wasn’t right with Doland while Descole was in disguise. She even refers to him as ‘Our Doland’. Awww!

We get several conversations between Clark and Layton in PL4, along with a bonus episode, demonstrating their friendship. But I really wish we could’ve seen more of Layton and Brendas’ friendship. Brenda is very relaxed about Luke going with the professor on his trips. (This isn’t surprising as she is a fan of travelling herself.) Brenda is very similar to Layton in how she picks up on other people’s behaviour. Brenda noticed that Doland was acting out of character, and she noticed Clark was being manipulated. She tried to go to the authorities (though, Third Eye Jakes wouldn’t have been much help...) and so, Descole had to take her out of the picture. She, like Layton, posed a real threat to Descole’s plans. Brenda describes Hershel as being very dedicated and hardworking when he was a student, but he’d also disappear for days on random adventures. With Brenda being a traveller herself, that’s another thing she and Hershel have in common!

To this day, I’m still not 100% sure what Brenda does for a living. In Luke’s Family section in The World of Professor Layton, it’s mentioned that Brenda was ‘also Professor Layton’s classmate’. I’m assuming this means she studied archaeology as well? During AL, she talks about how she’s going to Gressenheller’s Library to do some research for a paper on plate tectonics... I thought that had more to do with geography than archaeology, but who knows? Maybe she does both! So, she might either teach at Gressenheller like Clark and Layton, or she has returned to university to do some studies of her own. She doesn’t seem to work in the same department as Clark, at least. She ‘drops by’ to see how Clark is doing, and to get a look at his department’s cutting-edge technology.

Brenda, like Professor Sycamore, is partial to the odd pun! She then proceeds to give them a puzzle— ‘Mutual Meeting Place’.

It’s about four friends going to the theatre! ...Four friends. Could that possibly be a reference to Layton, Clark, Brenda and Claire? The girl in the puzzle picture also just happens to have red hair and she’s wearing green! (I just made myself sad.) Unfortunately, Claire doesn’t get so much as unnamed reference when Clark, Brenda and Layton talk at Gressenheller, but it’s easy to imagine Claire was close with them back when they were students.

I’d like to think Brenda was particularly good friends with Claire. (They may even be a rare ship of mine...) *Who else was obsessed with quirky styles, and bought a hat for someone she loved? Brenda’s top hat in her Dress Up costume looks just like the hat Claire chose for Hershel. Brenda has an interest in new technology— imagine how many hours she spent discussing science with Claire! “You want to be the world’s first time traveller? Sure, go for it!” I find it quite significant that Claire’s death— and the institute explosion— were referenced in PL4. (Chelmey’s bonus episode is so hard to watch!) Had the Tritons already lost touch with Hershel (and Claire) before Claire’s death...? I wish Level 5 had given us more content for the Gressenheller gang.

I can’t really say Brenda went through any under-appreciated character arcs, like Katia or Janice/Melina. She starts out as Luke’s-loving-mother... and by the end of the prequel games, she’s still Luke’s loving mother, which is fine! By AL, I guess you could say her relationship with Clark is much happier, if they were fighting before? And in the AL bonus episode, she admits she was initially worried about Luke when he wanted to go on adventures with the professor, but she can see has Luke grown up since then. She even helps Luke choose the blue sweater that he wears during the original trilogy games. Brenda and Clark don’t appear during the original trilogy- obviously, as their characters weren’t invented yet. But we could take this as a sign that they’ve accepted Luke’s growing independence and they still trust Hershel immensely!

There is a picture of the Triton family meeting up with Layton, Flora and the Barde siblings. Luke, Arianna and Tony are looking at a photo, remembering the time they spent together in Misthallery. Brenda is smiling at Flora in the background. Brenda’s clearly happy and, like the Barde siblings, she was able to move on from what happened with the spectre.

@the-triton-family-blog was also a great help for this post!

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nann-the-explorer · 3 years

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"Rowana, these are the humans that saved her highness. I don't know about any afflictions they may have. I only sensed one." Ras glanced at Nann, catching her gaze. A slight blush crossed his face but was gone a second later. Arianna however glared daggers at Ras." Don't call me that!" she hissed in his ear, barely above a whisper. Ras looked at her confused for a moment before shrugging. "Whatever, anyway they wanted to meet you to see if they could help with… this." Arianna bowed deeply to the shaman. "Greetings and salutations Shaman. I am Arianna Ir'wynarn, these are my friends, Captain Alardice, Doctor Kirkham and first navigation officer Fitzsimmons. We have seen a lack of animals and humans on our way here. According to the flora, a great sickness has afflicted the island." Rowana smiled sadly," indeed, it is as you say. This cave is the only place the sickness has not affected. I think the crystals are acting to keep the cave clear." A small fire burned further inside the cave. The smell of smoke and sage filled everyone's noses. "My people have used sage for many centuries. Though it dispels negative energy, it cannot remove this sickness from the villagers." Meanwhile Ras was talking to Nann. "I'm sorry for growling at you earlier. You were just suddenly there, I didn't know if you were going to attack or not." He looked at the sparkling crystals embedded in the walls. "I followed Arianna through the portal after she was hit by a fireball. I was only a few meters behind her but it was enough that we were flung far apart. Thank you for rescuing her, she seems to really trust you. So I will trust you too." a one thousand watt smile almost blinds Nann. Rowana stirs a big pot, steam lazily rises from the mysterious liquid. She tucks her smokey hair behind her ear." Since ancient times we have relied on our spirit guides to show us the right path." she begins pouring small amounts of an Amber coloured liquid into little espresso sized cups. Rowana hands everyone a cup. "Gather around the fire. Each of us will drink. Our spirit guides will take us to where we should be." Ras sniffed the Amber substance "Will it affect us?" Rowana smiles "I think it will. Arianna quickly drank the liquid. "it tastes like honey." she sits next to Rowana. She looks at Rowana, she was beautiful, Arianna hadn't ever seen a woman like her. The feathers and beads in her hair complimented her dark eyes. As Arianna watched her a fog began surrounding her, Arianna's eyes were heavy. Everyone around her began feeling the same as the tea began it's work. Rowana was chanting, the sound of her voice echoing around the cave. It sounded like thousands of shamans were all chanting together, as their vision began.

Nann got increasingly curious about Ras. He seemed to feel uneasy in their presence, but also kind of interested in their person. They weren't too sure, how to handle this kind of behaviour, but truly felt relieved, as he offered them his trust.

*I hold no grudge against you, you were just cautious. Just as Ituith'ryiel was cautious about you.*

The eldritch monster inside their mind growled again, causing Nann to blink and shake their head, as if to shrug off an unpleasant thought.

*I'm still cautious ... and I liked him more as furball.*

There was no further time to get to know each other better, as the shaman now gathered them by the big pot around the fire and passed the liquid to all of them. Nann was a little hesitant and looked over to their crewmates. Captain Alardice himself seemed to would have prefered a simple talk, but he was willing to do anything to help these people and so was Dr. Kirkham. As they saw, that Arianna trusted the shaman and drank the liquid, they followed her suit.

As the shaman chanted, there was a faint guturral sound that grew louder and sounded like thousand deep voices humming and chanting with her. They grew tired and their vision faded to black, bringing a rare moment of peace. This only lastet so long before they were abrasively pushed back into a different reality.

For a moment, they had the feeling, that they fell, but in fact, it seemed like the cave was turning upside down. The colorful crystals faded into the colors of stone and ash, the shaman and her fireplace seemed gone.

The crew was a little wobbly, when they came back up on their feets, while the elves seemed much more used to this kind of ... travelling. Nann looked around, the cave was now cold and scant, like every other cave. But there still was some lightsource to be seen around. Faint curves of shimmering white light, that drew mystical patterns on the soil and on the walls, like guidelines on a map.

But these lights were tainted and overgrown by a black root, that slowly shifted forward and seemed to grow faster wherever it touched the light, interrupting its way and seemingly draining energy from it.

Nann was curious and reached out to touch one of these black roots, but it seemed to evade the touch ... at least for the time being. It remained a moment in a crouching pisition, before it leapt up and caught Nann forecfully by the wrist.

That was, when a hissing sound crept through the complete rootstock and the root tips began to erect as if in search for prey.

#oc roleplay #roleplay #arianna the druid #nann the explorer

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glacecakes · 4 years

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Alchemy Lullaby (8/?)

Of all the changes that came with living in the castle, becoming a father was not one he anticipated. When Eugene encounters a small child suffering like he did, he gives them the opportunity to grow up the way he never did... helping them both heal. (AU where Varian is 4 and gets adopted by Eugene)

Part 8: Varian may seem like quite the happy child, but just because he's in a better home doesn't mean he's forgotten where he came from.

Warning: Child Abuse

Read the rest on AO3

All aboard the traumatized baby train! Choo choo! Warning, there is some explicit child abuse in here. If you don't want to see the worst of Ulla's abuse I would skip the italicized flashbacks.

Sorry this took so long, I couldn't decide how I wanted this chapter to play out. A big thanks to the Varian Angst, Scar Varian, and Team Awesome discords for helping me with this! If you wanna join in on the baby train dm me for an invite to the scar varian server where we pit baby in a gladiatorial hunger games against other au varians. He won today!

I know a lot of you are just here for dadgene baby varian fluff I SWEAR I'm doing a halloween spooky chapter, and then the next chapter is just gonna be a bunch of requests/cute drabbles.

It started with a simple question.

As Christmas bled into the New Year, and the days grew warmer and longer (Corona truly was the sun kingdom), Eugene pulled Lance aside and asked, “Ok, Lance, why are you here? What do you want?”

“W-ha, what? I don’t want anything! Come on, Flynn,”

“Eugene!”

Lance rolled his eyes. He’d been kind enough to call him Eugene around Varian, so as not to confuse the child, but otherwise he refused to call him that silly name. “Eugene,” he emphasized. “There’s nothing that I want! I’m perfectly happy to be here, since your girlfriend was so very kind in letting me stay for the holidays, and I just wanted to see how you were doing, and spend time with my nephew…” the list of excuses kept growing but Eugene didn’t buy it for a second. He stared at his friend, unimpressed, until he dropped the act. “Ok I need your help.”

That night had been full of hijinks, stealing, getting panned, stealing back, and more hijinks. By the time Varian woke up the next morning, Lance had left the castle, Arianna had her ring back, and Eugene was exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, he assumed his headache was a result of it. Turns out he was wrong.

“You definitely seem to be coming down with something,” the nurse murmured. Rapunzel and Varian had dragged him down there the second he gripped his head in pain. “You said you were up all night?”

Eugene rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s… been a crazy week,” he admitted.

The nurse tutted, sighing fondly. “Spend the rest of the day in bed, and don’t let anyone in. While I doubt it, it could be infectious, and we don’t want an outbreak in the castle.” The adults devolved into conversations about medicines and soup and other adulty things, oblivious to Varian’s growing panic. Finally, he cried out, “No Eugene for a whole day!?” The noise sent shockwaves through Eugene’s skull, clashing against his brain hard enough to make him visibly wince.

“Inside voice, kid,” Eugene moaned, and his kid at least looked apologetic. “It’s just for the day, I’ll see you tomorrow.” That didn’t soothe the child’s fears, if anything, it made him more upset. Crocodile tears bubbled in baby blue eyes and the whimpering Varian threw himself at Eugene, grabbing onto his shirt.

“Don’t leave me!” He wailed, once again worsening the headache. Eugene sighed, and wrapped his arms around him. With quiet shushing and a few rocks back and forth, he managed to get Varian at least calmer.

“Hey, hey, it’s not like you spend every second with me, what’s got you so worked up?”

Varian whined, shaking his head. He didn’t want to tell Eugene, or Rapunzel, or anyone really. They always get so sad when he talks about it.

Or rather, her.

“Maybe he’s coming down with something too?” Rapunzel whispered to the nurse, who smiled and shook her head.

“I think he’s just a little cranky.”

“Varian, bud,” Eugene raised his voice, and the sad boy lifted his head up. “Why don’t you go take a walk with Ruddiger, hm? Go get your cart. I’ll come get you in the morning.”

Varian didn’t want to leave his dad, not for a whole day, but he listened anyway. If he didn’t, Eugene could get sicker! And he loved Eugene, he didn’t want Eugene to be sick for any longer! So, with some reluctance, Varian detached himself for Eugene and off he went.

“He’s such a sweet thing, how do you do it?” The nurse sighed fondly. “My kids back then were a nightmare and a half.”

Eugene nodded sagely. “It’s all about boundaries. Kids need discipline and structure.”

Rapid footsteps pounded against the floor, and Varian came tumbling back in. “Wait! One more hug!” He cried, launching himself back into Eugene’s arms, who gladly nuzzled into his son’s unruly hair. He blew a wet kiss onto Varian’s cheek while he was at it.

“Right, discipline,” Rapunzel muttered under her breath.

A quick stop to Varian’s room and then the garden netted him a Ruddiger in a cart. The raccoon sat atop a mountain of pillows with his arms outstretched, ready to nab anything he saw fit. Normally, they’d be racing through the halls, screeching with delight. Varian would target the heels of passersby, glancing the wheels of his death machine at people’s feet. In particular, his favorite target was Nigel. The man had such a funny reaction! Sure, it usually ended in Varian being forced to give an apology, but the hidden snickers of everyone around always made up for it.

Nigel usually tries to hide from him now.

But Varian wasn’t really in the mood to chase him down, nor target anyone. Instead, for once, Varian decided to wander around his home. He’d been just about everywhere and explored everything, but it still all felt so… foreign. The old paintings glared down at him, ancient kings and queens who knew this wasn’t where he belonged.

He kept waiting for the ball to drop, for his mom to scoop him up and for them to move on to the next village.

He wandered around the corner, passing by the King’s study, when he heard his name whispered through the half opened door. Well, it was either his name or someone named Fairian, and he didn’t know anyone like that. Curiosity won out, and the small child peeked inside.

Frederick sat at his desk, sighing down at a letter. Arianna stood by his side, rubbing his back in sympathy.

“The nobles aren’t thrilled about Varian, still,” the King complained. “And… I don’t blame them.”

“Is this about the party?”

“No, this is about the line of succession. If Rapunzel and Eugene get married, Varian is technically in line behind her. And he’s not of royal blood. It’d be one thing if Rapunzel adopted him, but he’s Eugene’s son. She’d be his stepmother.”

Arianna raised a brow. “Why are we worried about this now? Can’t Rapunzel and Eugene have a biological child? I’m sure Varian would love to be a big brother.”

Varian had no idea what the conversation was about, or what any of these words meant. He fidgeted at the door, debating whether or not to leave.

Frederick said nothing, staring harder at the letter in front of him.

The queen’s eyes narrowed. “Is this still about how he doesn’t like you?” Frederick slammed his head onto the desk, and let out a yell of frustration. As if the door was on fire, Varian jumped back at the noise. However, he slowly crept back to the door.

“Ah, ok, so it is.” She patted his back.

Sighing, Fred stood up. His shadow loomed over the entire room, landing in the doorway where a trembling child watched on. “No, it’s not that. The rocks.” At the queen’s silence he continued, “The infernal black rocks. They’re here, in the capital. Searching for Rapunzel. I just know it.”

“Quirin said they come from the moonstone.”

“Which means it’s here on the island somewhere.” The royal eyes hardened into steel. “I want more nightly patrols. The moonstone must be found, and it must be either destroyed, or taken back to the Dark Kingdom. Do not tell a soul, not even Rapunzel. No one can know.”

Baby blue eyes glanced downward in horror at the last part.

When Varian was 3, they moved for the 10th time.

For this village, momma demanded he keep his head down. He never left the house unless she let him, and that was a rare enough occurrence. So rare that when they went to the market, people were shocked Ulla had a son.

But sooner or later, they were found. They always were.

Ulla scrambled around the house, throwing what meager possessions they had into a case. In contrast, Varian occupied himself by happily playing with an alchemy textbook. He was finally starting to read, and while he couldn’t make out most of the words, simple ones like ‘the’ and ‘force’ delighted him. His momma’s normally pristine bun was a wreck, with hairs flying in every which way as she raced around the house.

“Ugh, not again!” She moaned. “I swear, Varian, you’re going to get us killed one day! Do you want your mother to die a violent and horrible death, Varian? Do you want for us both to be torn to pieces or burned at a stake? Do you!?”

“No momma,” the toddler whimpered. He barely understood what any of those words meant, let alone the concept of death. All he knew was that his momma was mad and it was all his fault.

Ulla stuffed a few clothes into the case and slammed it shut. “I swear, I have half a mind to leave you behind!”

Varian’s eyes welled up with tears and he blubbered, “No, momma! I sowwy!” He stood up on the bed, reaching his arms out for comfort. She ignored him. Instead, she peeked out the window.

A large, burly fist busted through the glass. Ulla managed to dodge out of the way in time, but couldn’t stop the scream Varian let out. He burst into hiccupping sobs, and a large black rock spiked up through the ground, nearly severing the intruding hand.

“Witch!” The man in the window screeched. Spittle flew from his mouth. “Get out here so we can kill the lot of you! In the name of the King, you’re all under arrest!”

Rolling her eyes, Ulla scooped up her son. Honestly, the only reason Varian was still alive was because she had hope. Hope that all of this would be worth it, hope that she could either get the stone out of him, or she could mold him into her weapon. So far, both have proven to be failures. Case in point. He seemed to only be able to use his power when upset or angry. She couldn’t rely on emotion like that. It’s why she didn’t have any feelings. Control, knowledge above all else. That was how she worked.

Which was why the baby really screwed it all up.

“Would you shut up!” She hissed. After grabbing their belongings, she flung open the back door and made a run for it. “You know, I could really use a rock or two right now, Varian. Impale our attackers, scare them off? Anything?” The child only whimpered. “Useless.” An arrow whizzed past her ear. Groaning, Ulla dropped a case, reached into her pocket, and threw an alchemy bomb in the general direction of the arrow. She didn’t turn to see if she hit her target, the screams were enough. Varian, who was perched on her shoulder and facing back, winced. He’d seen her explosions before, they never got easier.

“I swear to god, Varian, if you run me out of one more town, so help me, I’m leaving you behind,” she growled. But Varian knew she wouldn’t. She said that about the last 4 towns.

If he was spotted, he’d be in major trouble. It was bad enough he hadn’t told Eugene about the rocks, he was just… it just… hard. His momma hated him and she knew, and Eugene loved him and he didn’t. What if he told Eugene, and he turned him over to the King?

He wanted Eugene! He wanted a hug, a promise that Fred would never hurt him! But alas. Instead, Varian scampered down the hallway. His tiny legs moved as fast as they could carry him. From his cart, Ruddiger chittered anxiously, unsure about the destination or if it was a good idea. Varian didn’t care. He just needed to get away. Keep moving.

Finally, he slowed to a stop. Breath after breath puffed out of exhausted lips, and Varian slid down onto the floor with a whimper. He hated this.

Voices sounded from around the corner. Was it the King? Did he know Varian overheard him? Panicked, the child scooped Ruddiger up from the cart and hid behind a large plant. The raccoon complained with angry chitters, but Varian shushed him.

Cassandra rounded the corner, two other maids by her side. They all carried mounds of laundry, too tall to see over, only around.

Conversation was light, it sounded like the same gossip they always had. That was until Cassandra, unable to see, stepped right on top of the cart. Her foot flew with the wheels, and down went the handmaiden with a shriek. Clothes were flung into the air along with her, and she groaned in pain.

“What was that, are you ok?” One of the maids asked, dropping her basket to help her up. The third maid kicked the cart aside.

Cassandra let out a grunt. “Yea, just my tailbone,” and with that, she scrambled to pick up her laundry. Varian had half a mind to run out and help her, but the paralyzing fear of getting in trouble kept him in place. He hadn’t meant to hurt her! Just like with the rocks, it was an accident! It always was!

“Stupid cart,” the third maid brushed Cassandra off. “Honestly, I wonder what goes through that kid’s head sometimes.”

“Experiment 87,” Ulla stated, speaking aloud as she wrote. The quill’s loud scratching, normally deafening, was drowned out by the hum of machinery and electricity. “The rocks seem to respond to electricity, acting like a conductor. The subject responds only to emotional distress,” The last part was said with thinly veiled disgust. “So, I have decided to combine the two concepts into one experiment.” Satisfied, the woman stood up from her chair and rounded around the room.

Their house in Old Corona was their biggest by far. Ulla had grown up here, played here, dreamed of a moment like this here. Perhaps sans the electrically charged chair and terrified child.

But hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

Varian trembled like a leaf in the wind from his restraints. The leather bit into his skin, metal buckles pinching and tweaking. He didn’t dare struggle, though. That would just make Momma angry. She fiddled with the settings, humming in delight as the machine responded beautifully to her commands.

“If we give the test subject a series of controlled shocks, it should ignite his flight or fight response, which seems to be the biggest trigger of rocks. This is just the prototype, of course. If this initial test is successful, I’ll begin work on a collar, or some other portable device. As powerful as the chair is, it’s impractical.” Ulla wasn’t speaking directly to Varian. She never was in these situations. When he asked, Ulla insisted it was because she was a scientist. But the rambling was just that, the rambling of a deranged woman who longed for power by any means necessary.

She glanced up at her son’s terrified eyes. They welled with tears, lip trembling. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She rummaged through her pockets and fished out a piece of fabric. “Open your mouth, Varian.”

He shook his head, or at least, as best as he could in the machine.

His momma rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, this is for your own good! We’re learning how to control your rocks so you don’t ruin this life for us! Old Corona is our last resort. The sooner you learn to control yourself, the better. So stick this in your mouth and let momma work.”

Varian couldn’t stop the hiccup that came when he opened his mouth, but Ulla took the opportunity anyway. She shoved the fabric between baby teeth, and pulled a nearby lever.

The machine crackled with energy. Blue lightning sparked, lighting the room in a near ethereal glow. It would be beautiful if it wasn’t so painful.

Through the fabric, Varian let out a shriek, louder than he’d ever screamed before. It was a strange mix of painful and unpleasant, that odd feeling of his body vibrating. Varian had experienced pain before. He’s gotten bruises, scrapes, the occasional burn from getting too close to momma’s experiments. And this certainly wasn’t the first time he was the test subject. But it was definitely the worst.

He screamed again, and a black rock shot out of the ground. Ulla’s eyes gleamed hungrily.

Then another.

And another.

Obsidian, pure and black, gleamed as it grew closer and closer, spiking up through the floor and towards the scientist with ill intent–

Ulla slammed down on the kill switch just as a rock sliced too close, cutting a clean streak of red through the palm of her hand. She and her son cried out in unison.

All was quiet, save for the broken sobs of a frightened child.

But Ulla didn’t care about that. She nursed her injured hand, thoughts a violent storm.

Her plan had worked… too well.

There really was no working with him, was there?

“More like what is he being taught,” Cassandra joked. “It’s fine, I can use it to carry the laundry before I drop it off at his door.” Hey! Cart thief! Ruddiger growled low in Varian’s ear. Varian didn’t really notice. He was trying to stifle his cries. He could still feel the electricity, the phantom shocks sent shivers down his spine.

While Cassandra and the maids focused on the cart, Varian snuck around the plant and broke off into a sprint. This time, it wasn’t so much fear of the people, more the fear of his mind. He had no idea what was happening to him. All he knew was that he kept remembering things, awful things, the stuff he left behind when Eugene took him in.

On any other day, whenever he was scared, he could toddle around and plead to the nearest maid to point him to Eugene. On any other day, he could beg for a hug or a show of affection, a reminder that Varian was here to stay, that he was safe. On any other day, he could happily wander the halls, knowing if he needed anything, Eugene would be right there. But he wasn’t allowed to see Eugene at all today.

What if Eugene decided after today that he liked the peace and quiet? What if Eugene didn’t want Varian around anymore?

Ruddiger tucked himself tightly around Varian’s shoulders, purring sweetly. The vibrations normally calmed Varian, even lulled him to sleep, but not today. Varian flinched violently when purrs jostled his neck, and he instinctually batted at it. Get him out of the machine! Get him out NOW!

Ruddiger didn’t take kindly to that. He was trying to soothe his friend, and this is the thanks he gets? A striped tail whacked angrily against Varian’s face, and tiny teeth bit down on the child’s neck.

He let out a shriek, and a single, massive rock spiked through the floor. Marble lay ruined at its base, and shredded carpet floated through the air.

The two friends froze, staring in horror at the intrusion.

The clanking of armor and heavy footsteps echoed behind him, before stuttering to a stop. Varian whipped his head around, and came face to face with a shocked Quirin.

The man took a step forward. “Son–”

“–Listen to me,” Ulla whispered. They were in a quiet alley, away from the festivities. It was so bright out today, it was as if the sun itself was here in Corona! Laughter and music verberated from the nearby square. But Varian wasn’t focused on that. His momma looked happy, excited even! She had all day! It was so rare that Varian got to see her smile, much less at him!

“I need you to sit here and wait for me. Can you do that, Varian? Can you be good? It’ll make me very happy.”

Varian nodded fervently. He wanted nothing more than to make his momma happy! She always seemed so sad or angry, and nothing he ever did seemed to cheer her up. In fact, his presence only made it worse. So for her to be happy because of what he did? It was heaven!

“Ok momma!” He chirped, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Now, don’t go anywhere, ok? Especially not back to Old Corona,” She booped his nose, and he giggled. “And don’t ask anyone where I am. It’s not important. Ok?”

“OK!”

She sighed, staring down at him. Her eyes clouded with sadness, familiar and yet… foreign, this time. It seemed more bittersweet. “Farewell, moondrop,” she whispered. And with a pat to his head, she left the alley, back into the crowd.

Varian was a good boy! He’d sit and wait! And wait he did! For nearly 2 days! Through hunger and thirst, even sleeping right there in the alley. But soon enough, he had to move.

He’d hated it. He’d hated making his momma upset. Surely she’d be coming back, so he couldn’t leave the alley long! Then she’d get nervous!

So he came back. Only leaving for food and water, he came back, day after day, sitting in that alleyway, waiting.

Hoping.

Praying.

Until Eugene showed him she wasn’t coming.

She never was.

The terror was too much. It felt as if the walls were closing in on him, suffocating him, clawing at his lungs and preventing him from breathing.

He took one step away from Quirin. Then another. The man seemed pained, and reached out.

Varian bolted.

He didn’t care if Eugene was going to be upset. He didn’t care if Cassie would yell about his cart. He wanted his Eugene.

He wanted his Dad.

Tiny legs, exhausted from the day of running, pounded through the castle for hopefully the last time. He knew the way by heart, and he was able to easily lose Quirin (if the man was even chasing him). Finally, he reached the familiar door. The guilt of waking a sick Eugene was heavily outweighed by his terror, his craving of someone who loved him no matter what. The door easily swung open, banging into the wall.

Eugene sprang up like he’d been shot. “WHA-WHAZZAT? What’s happening?” He cried, eyes searching wildly for an explanation. The only one he got was Varian leaping into bed with him and curling up to his chest.

“Daddy, I- I’m sorry!” He coughed, sobs so violent they caused him to shake. Tiny hands gripped Eugene’s shirt with a vice like grip.

Eugene blinked, flabbergasted. He’d never seen Varian cry this hard, not even after a nightmare! And wait, he called him Dad? Daddy? But his questions could wait. Right now, his son needed comfort.

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s ok Bluebird,” Eugene’s strong arms wrapped around Varian, pulling him close. “You’re ok, I’m not mad, I love you.” The last one got a blubbery, garbled response Eugene couldn’t make out. The kid blew harshly into Eugene’s shirt.

“Oh, ew,” Eugene muttered, but otherwise didn’t complain. He rocked Varian back and forth, shushing him quietly.

Finally, warmth, safety, security. It was so relieving, so relaxing, Varian began to doze off. He’ll tell Eugene what upset him later.

When Rapunzel came to check on her boyfriend, she found them both sound asleep. The little boy was still cradled in his dad’s arms.

“Boundaries, huh,” She sighed.

#varian #tangled #tangled the series #tts #tts varian #tts eugene #tangled eugene #team awesome #eugene fitzherbert

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antihero-writings · 4 years

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Stolen Sunlight (Ch2)

Fandom: Tangled | Tangled the Series | Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure

Fic Summary: Arianna never thought she'd find herself afraid of a fourteen-year-old boy, but the events of Secret of the Sundrop won't seem to leave her.

She needs to talk to Varian in prison. Not for his sake...but for her own.

Character focus: Arianna

Notes: Oh my GOSH you guys, thank you SO MUCH for that incredible response to chapter 1!! My writing rarely gets into the double digits as far as notes go, and I'm lucky if I get one comment... You have no idea how happy it made me to wake up this morning to so many notes, including a bunch of super nice comments...I really can't thank you enough. I hope you guys like the second chapter too! ...I know it's pretty different from the first one, haha!

(Fyi, I'm not usually this fast in posting the next chapter of something, I just happened to have the two beginning parts all edited together XD)

Chapter 2: The Cracks in Their Hearts

Arianna’s eyes flare open, her heart firing and misfiring, taking its panic out on her own ribs. And for a second she can still feel the stone beneath her, the shackles around her ankles, can still hear his voice, feel the weight of his gaze.

The world behind his eyes then was so cold then: all hate and no hope. So different from the world she lived in. She didn’t want that world to infect her own view.

She clenches her fingers into the sheets.

It wasn’t a dream. That much she doesn’t have to question; at some point in a twisted history, it was real.

How the scene of the boy who smiled and laughed, helping Cassandra with her chores, making the library gleam for little recompense, and the scene of the boy who created a metal monster as a diversion, wrapped chains around her ankles, and teased death and amber before her eyes, could both exist in the same timeline…How the same boy who created machines and compounds to forge solutions, could turn around and use them to manufacture problems, could be played by the same actor, that the only thing that had changed was time…and, at the very end, the same voice that once laughed, and spoke so happily of alchemy and friendship in these castle halls could scream no and I’ll make you proud from a prison cart…she doesn’t understand. It all seems like some sick joke, played with a trick of the light.

The Queen tosses her legs over the side of the bed, pushing back her hair, careful not to wake Frederic, whose chest is rising and falling to the rhythm of uninterrupted sleep.

This isn’t the first time. That is, it isn’t the first time her mind parroted and parodied her memories as nightmares.

She tiptoes up to the door and slowly turns the knob, glancing back at Frederic to be sure he doesn’t wake, and quietly shuts it behind her.

She needs to walk the halls, clear her mind; if she lays back down to sleep now, her heart won’t be able to stop its war march.

She knows from experience.

The castle halls are quiet, doused in a blue-violet tinge, spilling through the windows. She steps up to one of these panes, sighing to the night sky speckled with stars.

The same stars she and Willow chased the sunrise under. The same stars she kissed Frederic under. The same stars, worlds she and Rapunzel gazed at, charted together, asking each other what was out there.

The same sky he kidnapped her under.

The same sky. The same boy. The same queen. The only difference is time.

Time is a funny thing, isn’t it? Likes to play pranks. Heals things. Makes you forget things too. Bad things, yes, but also good things; makes you forget what you lost…and consequently less grateful for what you have. And sometimes it only makes the bad things worse, when your mind won’t let go of them.

She glances down the hall—the same hall she had met that chipper voice and those eyes so full, so accepting of sunlight.

The same hall he captured her in.

She recognizes too, it’s the same window she was looking through that day, down upon the town square, watching those she loved be attacked by a beast of the alchemist’s making. The same window at which he threw sleep into her face.

He looked so different that night. He wasn’t the cute little boy with the gloves, and the apron, and the stripe in his hair, and the glint in his eye. This was a masked criminal in a large, dark coat, which hid weaponry. No boyish twinkle in that blue this time; now the goggles glowed green, like a demon, no soul or sunlight behind them. His raccoon wasn’t the only one he morphed into a monster that night.

How could a person so easily shut himself off from the bright light inside himself, and turn to such immense darkness? As if the shadows had been asking to play this whole time, and he finally accepted their invitation. That was the question she never could quite wrap her mind around.

How could he treat those he once loved like that?

Is that sweet boy still in there? Is he trapped somewhere inside the darkness, within that prison of blue, crying for mercy?

She couldn’t imagine any circumstances that could drive her to treat those she loved like that, no matter how angry she was, or how much she had lost.

Her heartbeat picks up the pace.

She knows she is safe. Her family is safe. Or at least, she has no reason to believe otherwise. They made it out of that lab, and Varian is just a boy swearing vengeance in the dungeons below her. She knows he cannot come back to haunt her. She knows she is safe.

He’s just a boy.

So why does she still feel so...uneasy? Why does the thought of him in the dungeon feel, not like the end of a story, the end of a nightmare, like justice…but instead like the beginning, like a crime in and of itself? Why does she still feel sick, and cold, and far too old thinking of him?

When Rapunzel was taken from them, so long ago—(though it always felt like yesterday)—sorrow was a constant reminder and companion. A quiet buzz of tragedy in the back of her brain. A crack in her heart, making it so she was never fully whole, never fully satisfied. Today’s melancholy, tinged with tomorrow’s hope, tomorrow’s despair. Now the tragedy, the threat, is over. Nothing is missing from their lives. Their hearts are whole again. And Rapunzel has faced many villains on her own, and defeated them with flying colors—him included.

But Arianna still feels something isn’t right.

Maybe it’s because this has happened before. Because she had spent so much of her life grieving the loss of their daughter, hoping in the deepest corners of her heart she would come running into the castle one day.

Maybe because, when her lost princess did come back there was this new thing in the back of her mind saying Maybe you don’t have her back forever. Maybe she’s not safe. Maybe she’ll be taken from you again. A part of herself she had to willfully soothe each day. …A voice Frederic was unable to quiet within himself.

Is it because Varian gave credence to this voice inside her? Because he took their own personal demons and brought them to life in a lab?

But it wasn’t Rapunzel he took…it was her.

Is that the point? Is it because she herself was the one who was kidnapped, for the sake of her daughter? That he used her to get to, to hurt, to in turn use, Rapunzel, too? Because she hadn’t anticipated that? Because the shock of it brought new ammunition to that voice? That now it was clear her daughter wasn’t the only one who could be taken, that any one of them could be stolen away, and used by the opponent? Was it that act of both of them being used as chess pieces in a grand game, instead of people with souls, who were hurting, that keeps her up at night?

It could very well be. But even so, together they had won against him. Arianna was confident that together—be it the three of them, or Rapunzel and her friends—they could face whatever came their way. She wasn’t afraid of him that night, when she was sitting handcuffed to his laboratory floor. She knew they would win. They always did.

Is it because he was one of her friends, a friend she thought could help Rapunzel face the darkness, a friend who had such light in him? Because he made it so terrifyingly clear that our worst enemies are not faceless monsters in the dark, not really…they are the friends we couldn’t save. His greatest offense was not treason against his kingdom, but against his friend. Is it that thought, that tomorrow’s villains are today’s heroes that sends her heart reeling?

But he is down there, in the dungeon, she repeats to herself, as she walks down the hall. She knows where he is; he cannot surprise attack her at any moment. He was not the first villain they faced, the first traitor, to Corona, nor will he be the last. That prison is filled with people who tried to take their sunlight away, and lost.

But she does not feel sick thinking of anyone else down there.

So why, when he is put behind bars—

Or says a voice in the back of her head, a very soft one she’s been trying not to listen to, maybe it’s because he’s down there.

…Because he’s down there, so close, and if he were to escape it would be so easy for him to strike where it hurt?

—(No, says the voice.)—

Or—(dare she admit it?)—Maybe it’s because he’s down there, when she knows he once was, and still could be, more than this. Because he’s down there, wasting away, repeating threats to empty walls, while she walks safely in her golden palace above, not caring what happened to him, what’s still happening to him, even now…how much pain he’s still in….

How much his mind is surely tormenting him.

(Just like her.)

Two scenes, one boy. But maybe it isn’t the way he turned to the dark…maybe it’s because she knows the dark isn’t all he’s made of.

Corona isn’t a place where villains and criminals are shut up, or beheaded for their crimes. It’s a place where they’re taught to be better.

She hadn’t given all that much time to mull in her head before, but now it gives her pause, sinks into her brain. Perhaps this unease is not entirely for herself, her family. Maybe its not fear…it’s guilt. Maybe some part of it, even if it’s small and cowering, is not for herself, but for him.

They all looked away. Frederic looked away when the rocks were destroying their kingdom. Rapunzel looked away when he came to her for help. They all didn’t go to him; looked away when the storm ended, assumed he was better, for fear of facing the fact that he wasn’t, that the storm had left wreckage behind after all, wreckage they would have to clean up. It was easier to look away.

Maybe this isn’t about the way he treated her…maybe it’s about the way they’re treating him, when she knows he was once a boy who cleaned libraries, fixed problems, helped people. When she knows he is still human…and they left him there to rot in the dark.

They’re still looking away.

What does she know? Maybe they’re right to leave him there. She doesn’t know him well. All she knew were the stories Rapunzel told, and the brief interactions they had. And the stories proved he was dangerous when good, and the interactions proved he was deadly when evil.

—(But…was he ever truly evil?)—

She met him twice, and their second, longer meeting was made of metal, and amber, and moonlight. If he could cross straight into the night without a sunset, then maybe she didn’t know him well enough to say they shouldn’t have looked away.

Still, even though she didn’t know much else, she knew—when she did look at him—the look in his eyes. She was certain that, though his gaze was harsh and unrelenting at those times…there was tragedy behind that ice, frozen in time. She could see the cracks in his heart. Could hear the voices in his head saying Maybe you can’t save your father after all.

A criminal was not all he was. A cell was not all he deserved.

He was just a boy, lost and hurting.

Like she was, once.

She paused, peering around a corner at two guards posted at a door. She knew behind it was the staircase to the dungeon. To …him.

She’s so close…

She could go see him right now. Sleep deprived and unsteady in mind she could march down there.

What would she do if she did? Yell and question him? Lecture him on the merits of a non-criminal life? Demand answers, or expect no answers, just want to see him hurt like he hurt her?

She tempers her breath. The thought fades quickly as it comes.

That is not who she is. That is not who she wants to be, to appear to him as; all fear and anger. If she does, if she wants him to hurt, she is no better than the darkest parts of him.

And it is not what either of them need.

She turns away, deciding the bed is more inviting now that her thoughts have coalesced into resolve, and her bare feet take her swiftly back to her room.

Not tonight. Not now.

She will talk to him again. She needs to, for both their sakes. She’s not going to look away anymore.

Because she knows they are the same.

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creampuffqueen · 4 years

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Worlds of Fire and Darkness | Chapter Fifteen (Winnie/Cirrus)

Read this on Ao3 here! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

Cast of Characters

The aftermath of the terrible earthquake in the Summer Court.

Winnie POV

The world was standing still. Still and smooth as glass, or clear water, or fresh fallen snow. The world stood still even as it seemed to crash and burn at the same time.

I was there, but not. Only the weight in my arms kept me there, in that place. The shadows writhed around me; I couldn’t keep them contained.

Saphira. Saphira Vanserra was curled in my arms, her soft brown hair tickling my chin. I couldn’t see her, but she was there.

Other people were around me as well. I could scent them, though the air was ripe with the stench of blood and vomit and piss as well.

High Lady Vivianne was nearest to me, only a few feet away. She was holding Dain, little bitty Dain, tight against her chest. Neia, Tarquin and Arianna’s daughter, was further away, but still there.

Camille and Caliphe were gone. My cousins- gone. Where were they? How were they?

A soft whimper drew me back to the present, a strong inhale that brought the wayward shadows careening back to me and started the world again.

The city was screaming. A deathly, unearthly howl came from below, from the people.

The city was destroyed. The breath left me again in a gasp, my whole body seizing with the horror.

People are dying, the shadows murmured in my ear. A female, trapped beneath a sheet of rock. A male was thrown off the dock and into the ocean, and so were tons of debris. A child-

“No more.” I snarled aloud. “I don’t want to know.”

The toddler in my arms was shaking. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream, didn’t shout. But she shook, violently.

“Winnie!” Someone was yelling for me. But the screaming from below wasn’t stopping. It was louder, more horrifying.

People are dying.

“Winnie!” The scream came again, through the dust and destruction. Saphira’s small nails dug into my arm, her tiny body shuddering.

My father. My father was the one yelling… Azriel didn’t yell. Elain didn’t yell. But there it was, my mother’s desperate scream joining my father’s.

“I want my mama.” Saphira whispered.

My feet were rooted to the floor. My wings drooped, dragging behind me, not able to protect me as dust caked in my hair.

Saphira started to cough. In front of me, I heard the small wheeze of Vivianne’s son, the baby not able to breathe in the cloud.

“Winnie!” My mother’s howl cut through the gloom. Shadows swirled around me, and by some miracle, I got my feet beneath me and stood.

As I stumbled forward, still holding the toddler in my arms, a smooth, sleek talon caressed my mental shields, tapping for entrance. It was incredible the shields in my head were up at all, let alone keeping anyone out. I allowed the daemati inside.

Winnie, My uncle Rhys’s voice filled my head, and I had to stop moving to focus. Let us know you’re all right. Use your shadows. Come to us. Your family is worried sick. And Cirrus…

He paused. Like he wanted to soften a blow of bad news.

You need to come quickly.

I couldn’t get enough focus to respond. I had always been awful with daemati abilities, and they were practically nonexistent. With the chaos raging around me, there was no hope for me to use them.

Instead, I used my shadows. Focusing on them again brought forth a flood of information I didn’t want to deal with- the people dying, the ruined city. I blocked it out, and probed only the meeting hall.

They tracked down my family easily. My father, he was first, like calling to like. His shadows wove around mine, a comforting blanket as he realized I was near.

My mother was close by, dazed, choked, but safe. She clung to Azriel’s arm, and my father wasn’t letting her go.

A walk that should have taken moments was taking much longer. Far too long, far too treacherous. The only sign of fear Saphira showed was how she trembled.

“Winnie!” My father was close, but his sudden call had me tripping over scattered debris. I barely managed to keep my balance, landing on one knee rather than my hands. Glass ripped through the thin fabric of my trousers, and I bit back a yelp of pain.

“I’m here!” I shouted back, heaving myself upwards while still holding Saphira tightly.

Only moments later, strong arms wrapped around me, and I heard the distinct sound of a sob.

My father was crying.

I nestled my head against him, letting out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. He was okay. We were okay.

Azriel led the way, still holding me tight. Elain held close to his other arm, though she’d taken Saphira from me, holding her in the comforting way only a mother could.

We passed through a shield of wind, the magic causing my skin to tingle. Uncle Rhys’s magic, holding strong.

Our group was sorry looking. Nesta and Cassian, Nesta leaning against her mate in a rare moment of vulnerability, one hand clutching his and the other resting on her stomach, on the barely-visible bump of a growing child.

Camille and Caliphe sat together, the eight-year-old curled up on her older sister’s lap. Feyre sat nearby, alongside Tess, who had Mireya’s head in her lap. The female was somehow more pale than ever before, her breathing rapid and shallow.

Rhys was the only one standing, and even he looked worse for wear. Sweat dripped down his temple and neck, onto the ripped collar of his fancy shirt. His magic…

It was draining him. The most powerful High Lord, his powers drained. A harrowing thought.

I turned away.

That was when I saw him. Prostrate on the floor, carefully positioned near his mother to keep him out of harm’s way…

Cirrus. Covered in blood. His own blood. Covered in his own blood.

It ran in red rivulets down his head, caking and drying on his neck and shoulders. Blood on his hands, his knees.

“What happened to him?” I barely managed to choke out.

“I don’t know.” Feyre whispered. “He, Tess, and Mireya found us. Mireya was already unconscious. He was fine one moment, and the next…”

“There are other people out there.” I addressed my family firmly, trying my hardest to keep my composure. “We need to get them, and help them.”

“The whole city is in ruins, Rhysand.” Azriel added. “The sooner we clear this up and find everyone, the sooner we can go help the people.”

Little Saphira, still in my mother’s arms, suddenly made herself known with a soft whimper. “I want my mama.”

“I know, darling.” Elain told her. “We’re going to find your mama and your papa. Your big brothers, too.”

“I want Daylor.” Saphira added. “Big brother.”

The mention of the Autumn Court male made my wings flare unintentionally, and I fought to bring them back. In the chaos, nobody noticed.

“I’m going back out.” I snapped, my nerves already frayed enough. “Vivianne is out there, with Dain. And Neia, too. And we have no clue where Mor and Amren are.”

“Winnie, wait.” Azriel grabbed my arm before I could leave the relative safety of the wind barrier. My father gave Elain a pointed look.

“When the earthquake hit,” My mother started. She gently set Saphira down, and the toddler clung to her legs.

“I had a vision.”

Everyone sat up straighter at her words.

“You haven’t had a vision in years.” Nesta said.

“I know.” Elain sighed. “My gift has been… silent, for a while now. But as soon as the quake started, so did the vision. If Azriel hadn’t been there I might have been killed by debris. I couldn’t move.”

“Have you ever had one that strong before?” Feyre asked. “I don’t remember your old ones rendering you immobile. Just dreamy for a minute.”

“It could have been shock.” Elain said with a shrug. “The quake, the vision. It doesn’t matter what happened then. Just what I saw.”

My mother closed for eyes for a few seconds, taking a deep breath. Dragging the memories and the vision up, keeping the details fresh.

“I saw a hawk.” She breathed, eyes still closed. “Brown and gray, but the tail feathers were rust-colored. It was ruffled, weak. It had been flying for a long time. It was tired.”

Elain took a breath, and continued. “Its eyes. They were… so strange. I’ve never seen a bird with eyes like it before. The brightest blue, ringed with gold…”

Her voice trailed off for a moment, and she whispered something I couldn’t hear. Her eyes snapped open.

“The fairest eyes from legends old.”

“Where is that from?” Rhys asked, voice slightly strained. “I feel as though I’ve heard that somewhere.”

“Aunt Amren says that.” Caliphe piped up. “A rhyme, from one of her books.”

“Yes,” Nesta added on, “I think I’ve read it somewhere before.”

“There’s more.” Elain told us. She swallowed thickly.

“The hawk disappeared into the trees. And in its place, a swarm of bats swirled into the air. Everything was silent until then, but when the bats arrived… they were screaming, in human voices. They were terrified.”

“The bats were trapped. A cage, it came from nowhere. It trapped them all. And I was there, and I could do nothing to help…”

A tear rolled down my mother’s cheek. Azriel stepped closer, wrapping her in his arms as she dissolved into sobs.

“I don’t know what Elain’s vision means,” Feyre finally spoke, “but I know that we need to get up and try and make sense of what is happening now. Cirrus needs a healer, a proper one.”

“Can nobody heal him now?” Camille asked, brow furrowing. “Can none of us use our healing powers? I would do it, but…” her voice trailed off then. It was a sore spot for the teenager, really. Her powers aligned towards Summer, Day, and Spring, with none of the healing power of Dawn like her mother and brother had.

Rhysand shook his head. “No, Camille. None of us can.” He took a deep, steadying breath after he spoke. “Something… is blocking my magic. Like a damper, but not quite. I can’t reach my powers.”

“I can’t either.” Feyre sighed. “It’s like the well of my magic has dried up. I have to reach so far down for just a drop.”

“My shadows are working fine.” I mentioned. “Tess, what about you?”

Tess shook her head. “Winnie, the shadows are a part of you. They’re different than magic.”

“But magic is also a part of you.” I argued back. “So why are my shadows working but everyone else’s powers aren’t?”

A soft groan came from where Mireya lay, and everyone’s gaze snapped to her. She shifted slightly, moaning in pain, eyes screwed shut.

“Mireya.” Tess murmured. “Mireya, can you hear me?”

The female gave a soft nod, slowly easing her eyes open. Her face was still pale, but at least she was awake. Her whole body shook as she gently pulled herself up to a sitting position, and the effort left her panting hard.

“What…” She spoke thickly, as though her lips weren’t following her brain’s orders, “what is going on?”

“I’m going to get your mother and brother and bring them back.” I told her, before anyone could argue. “And I’m going to search for everyone else, make sure we’re all accounted for.”

“I should come.” Mireya tried to sit up further, only for the blood to drain from her face again. She laid back down in Tess’s lap.

“Stay here.” My cousin told her. “You’re weak right now. You passed out during the earthquake. Rest.”

While she didn’t look happy, she didn’t protest. Or perhaps she didn’t have enough energy to.

I could tell my uncle was struggling to keep the shield up, and keep all the dust away. His magic wasn’t failing, but it certainly wasn’t cooperating. The sooner we found the others, the sooner we could get to cleaning up.

“I’m going with you.” Cassian said, giving Nesta a quick glance. My aunt nodded almost imperceptibly.

“I’ll go as well.” Azriel added. “Two Shadowsingers are better than one.”

Together, with my father and uncle, we stepped outside the shield of wind.

Almost instantly, I had to pull up my shirt to cover my nose. The dust was still thick, clouding around us and clogging in every place it could. Even with the face covering, all three of us couldn’t stop coughing.

“This way!” I shouted, gesturing broadly, to where I remembered I had fallen first, when the ground started shaking.

I let my shadows loose as we walked, their whispers filling my ears. The ground was unstable, and it shifted every so slightly with every step. Movement was difficult, as none of us wanted to bring down what was left of the palace.

After all, if the upper floors had sustained this much damage, I trembled at the thought of what had happened to the foundation.

“Two High Lords that way.” Azriel said, having to raise his soft voice to be heard. He gestured in the opposite direction that we were headed, and I tensed at the decision being offered.

“I’ll get them.” Cassian replied, relieving me of having to change course. “You two go get the others.”

My uncle shifted slowly to where Azriel pointed, walking away until all that could be seen were his dark wings flared wide. My father and I continued in the same direction, both of us silent as our shadows did their work.

It was rare that I wished for powers other than my own, but in this instance, I would have given anything for the power of light or wind. Even my heightened Fae senses were useless in the clouds of dust, so thick that even the sunlight of the Summer Court couldn’t penetrate them.

Without being able to see more than a few feet ahead of me, it was no surprise that I tripped- but this time, it was over a person.

I hauled the person upwards, my father stepping in to help me. It was Neia, her silvery hair caked with dust, and various scrapes covering her body from debris.

“Neia,” I said, gently pulling her towards me, “I’m going to get you out of here, okay? Walk with me.”

The girl seemed to shrink in on herself, but she did as I asked, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. One of her shoes had come off, and her fancy embroidered tunic was ripped.

We made our way back towards the larger group of people, and Neia’s breathing became labored, as if she were desperately reigning back sobs.

Finally, I could see Rhys ahead, but at that exact moment, Neia cried out, clinging to me as her hold finally slipped and she broke down.

“Come on,” I urged, tugging her gently, “it’s only a few more steps. You’ll be safe.”

She just cried harder, choking both on her tears and the dust.

Seeing her, just a child, so upset, so unraveled, got my already frayed nerves on end. I wasn’t sure how I wasn’t just like her, broken down and crying. I was detached, not all there.

And after all, this was her home. And it was completely destroyed.

A few shadows twined with my own, the sign my father gave before appearing in my peripheral vision, supporting the High Lady of the Winter Court. The baby was tucked down her dress, keeping him away from the dust as much as possible.

“Neia.” I coaxed. She was coughing now, in between sobs, and I couldn’t bear to just sit and watch. Carefully, I pulled her into my arms, carrying her bridal style the last few feet to the barrier.

Inside, my mother greeted me, brushing the hair that had come free of my braid out of my face. She helped me ease Neia to the ground, then led her over to Caliphe and Saphira.

Feyre still sat by her son, unwilling to leave his side. Camille had moved to crouch over him, violet eyes taking in the sight of her older brother.

Moments later, Azriel and Vivianne arrived, and the latter nearly dropped to her knees in relief when she saw her daughter.

“Mireya.” The young female couldn’t muster enough strength to lift herself from Tess’s lap, but she reached for her mother nonetheless. Vivianne wrapped her in a tight hug, and Dain peeked over the collar of her dress to peer at his sister. Mireya hugged him, too.

“Feyre.” Rhys murmured, so soft I wasn’t even sure I’d heard him. But his mate cocked her head, and the two locked eyes, undoubtedly having a mental conversation.

In some sort of understanding, Feyre moved over, allowing Rhys to come and sit by his son as well. The High Lady’s gaze and attention turned elsewhere, to a place I could not see, as I felt a flicker in the shield of wind.

The only barrier keeping us all from the dust and destruction.

My uncle’s face was pale and sweating, a sign of the effort to keep his magic going. If Rhysand, the most powerful High Lord, was struggling to use his powers, then how were the rest of us to fare?

In an answer to my question, Camille glanced over at me.

“It’s as though my powers have been locked away, Winnie. I can feel them, see them, but I can’t use them.”

Seeing my curious glance, my younger cousin shrugged. “It seems as though my Daemati abilities haven’t been affected, though. Your mind is wide open.”

I refused to dwell on that, instead listening to the whispers of my shadows.

People are dying in the city.

“Azriel.” Rhys said, gently combing fingers through Cirrus’s mussed hair. My father turned towards his High Lord.

“I need you to go to the Night Court, as soon as possible. I need to know if our home was affected by the earthquake as well.”

“I will go when I am sure that this city is being taken care of.” he replied softly. A small flash of annoyance in Rhys’s eyes, though it disappeared soon.

Before anyone could respond further, Cassian arrived, leading the two High Lords behind him. Thesan and Tamlin.

At the arrival of the High Lord of Spring, everyone tensed. Tamlin’s green eyes were steely, one of the only parts of him visible beneath the layers of dust.

“Thesan.” Rhysand started, and I could hear the strain in his voice, see the barely restrained curl of his lip as Tamlin surveyed the group. “Is there anything you can do for my son?”

The High Lord of Dawn hesitated for a moment, stepping closer to Cirrus. “What happened to him?”

“The same thing that happened to me.” Mireya answered softly. “He must have felt what I did. That tugging sensation, deep in my gut. I don’t know what it was.”

“He also hit his head.” Tess added. “I think he could be concussed.”

“My magic is… not obeying.” Thesan admitted with a wince. “I am struggling to use it. I could hardly reach it enough to heal my own wounds.”

So it wasn’t just the Night Court that was having issues with their powers.

Even with the declaration, Thesan still bent down to look Cirrus over. He placed a hand on his pale forehead, then traced down to where the blood still ran in a slow rivulet.

“All his wounds are only skin deep.” Thesan muttered, more to himself than any of us. “His own Fae blood should be healing him by now.”

“Our Fae blood should be healing all of us.” I snapped, feeling my temper starting to rise. Everything was all wrong, and I had stopped praying to wake up from a nightmare. Everything was all wrong, and everything was also undeniably real. “But it’s not. We don’t know why. Can you heal him or not?”

Thesan looked like he might be considering snapping back, but after a few moments, decided against it. “I can try my best.”

Holding his hands over Cirrus’s bloodied head, it took a long, silent minute before a faint glow began to emant from them, the light so soft it was hardly noticeable.

It took several minutes, minutes where we all waited with bated breath. A bead of sweat dripped down the male’s brow, sliding down and taking dust with it.

And slowly, ever so slowly, the skin where the blood gushed out began to knit together, until fresh, brand new skin sat in its place, as raw and pink as the day he’d been born.

“He will be sore.” Thesan panted, sitting back on his heels. “But it will not be as severe as if it were left untreated.”

Rhysand’s violet eyes met those of shimmering gold, sincerity lacing every word as he said, “Thank you.”

After another moment of silence, it was Tamlin who spoke this time.

“I need to find my son. And we must return home.”

“We all want to return home, Tamlin.” Feyre snarked, then took a deep breath, steadying herself and the shield of wind she now commanded. “But none of us will be able to if we don’t find the others and figure out the damage already done to the Summer Court.”

Tamlin gave a snarl, glaring at Azriel. “As if you weren’t already sending your Shadowsinger back to your hellish court.”

“I am not leaving until I am sure each and every person in this meeting is safe.” Azriel’s voice was low, dangerous. Tamlin just rolled his eyes.

The male’s bright green gaze landed on me, and his face twisted in a cruel smirk that had my blood boiling.

“Or were you thinking of sending the youngling to do your spying for you? I do say, she is… quite small.”

“Yeah, and you saw with your own eyes how she kicked Autumn’s heir’s ass yesterday.” Tess snapped back.

“Stop arguing!” Camille hissed, standing up and placing her small frame in between me and the High Lord. “We’re accomplishing nothing with this.”

“My daughter is right.” Rhys agreed, gently easing Cirrus to the floor and standing up. “Tamlin, you have control over wind. How about you put that to use and clear this dust?”

The High Lord of Spring’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. One of his hands tightened into a fist, and had I focused more, I might have seen the beginnings of those claws Aunt Feyre always talked about.

Instead, I observed Tamlin’s face, allowing my shadows to twine around him, unabashed, gathering what information they pleased. Reaching so deep for his power, he could do little to protest.

A breeze, flower scented and gentle, flowed around us, strong enough I could feel it even with the shield my Aunt kept up around us. The wind that was so at odds with Tamlin’s personality, soft and soothing to the male’s brash and rude demeanor.

Whatever that power was, it worked, because the dust cleared, surely and steadily. A few bodies were uncovered, and other Fae were cleared into the open, dazed and confused, but still standing.

I didn’t bother wasting time just watching. Neither did the rest of my family. Even Aunt Nesta got up, and joined us to go gather the people. As the dust cleared further, even Feyre dropped the protective shield in favor of rescuing the others.

I reached High Lord Tarquin first, where he stood with his wife, Arianna. Both looked dazed, but Tarquin’s face shifted into one of relief as he spotted Neia with us. The young girl stood and ran into her parents’ arms, sobbing all the while.

More people were retrieved, various entourages of Courts. I rejoiced when Mor and Amren were recovered, thought the latter only snapped that we shouldn’t have been worried, and she could care for herself.

Among the gathered people, I felt a flash of disappointment when Lord Eris emerged with a snarl.

Though, of course, if he had died in the quake, that would mean that Daylor was the new High Lord of Autumn. I wasn’t quite sure how that made me feel.

The feel of his skin on mine still remained in my mind, though buried far, far in the back. The sounds he made, the way he moved… all of it fresh, nearly demanding to be thought about. I refused to let those thoughts win.

People are dying in the city.

All thoughts of the male died as the shadows crooned in my ear, nearly mocking. So rarely did they show personality, as they did now, and never before had they been so aggressive, so demanding.

People are dying. You must do something.

It took all my willpower not to hiss out loud. I glanced over my shoulder, to where Tamlin still stood, though his golden face was ashen. He looked as if he were on the verge of collapse.

At least the dust was cleared. Though it revealed the full scope of the destruction. It was a damn miracle the floors this far up were still holding our weight.

Nobody was speaking. The floors were so weak, we just might all crash to the ground if someone started an argument.

Still, Eris spoke up.

“While I’m glad everyone is here and accounted for, we need to retrieve my sons. They were all still asleep in their rooms.”

“And I need to take care of my city.” Tarquin replied, his even temper worn short. “Get your sons, Eris, and head back to Autumn. In fact, everyone can head back to their courts. Survey your own damage. We don’t need extra people in the way.”

“Our meeting isn’t over-” The High Lord snapped, but was silenced when Tarquin held up a hand.

“I am one word away, Eris.” His voice was low, deadly, the normal gentle High Lord gone. “One more word, and I will drown you where you stand.”

Eris’s face went as red as his hair, and he snarled, only for his wife to place her hand on his arm, reigning him in. She glanced over at Saphira, in her arms, the little girl’s eyes wide.

He backed down, incredibly. All eyes in the ruined hall were on him, and he knew it. Still, he glowered at Tarquin with lowered eyes.

“Eris, let us help you get your sons.” Azriel spoke suddenly, and the tension in the room sparked. “It’s safer. We have wings.”

“As if.” The male hissed back. “Keep your Night Court filth away-”

“Please.” Eris’s wife spoke above him, voice desperate. “Find my boys. I don’t care what you must do. But you kept my daughter safe.”

Eris’s growl was guttural, but the female didn’t so much as flinch.

“Bring my boys back to me, please.”

She was desperate, I realized. A mother’s instincts, she would do whatever it took to have her children by her side and safe. No matter what her awful husband said.

I was ashamed to admit I didn’t remember her name. Hadn’t bothered to, seeing as she was just another one of Eris’s playthings. A prized brood mare, to gift him as many heirs as possible.

She’d done her job well. Three healthy sons, one healthy daughter. And she kept her place at Eris’s side, at his right hand. Perhaps she wasn’t as meek as I’d once assumed.

Azriel gave her a solemn nod, then turned to Cassian. Tess, who was still supporting Mireya, couldn’t come. Neither would Rhys or Feyre, so engrossed in caring for Cirrus.

There were three Autumn Court males. And two Illyrians.

Unless I went as well. I was strong enough to carry one of them. I met the eyes of my father, only to find him already looking at me in anticipation.

I nodded once.

That was all the confirmation he needed, and the three of us traveled deep inside the ruined palace, searching for the heirs of Autumn.

~~~~

Neither my father nor my uncle questioned why I knew exactly where I was going. Even with most of the palace destroyed, I remembered the turns and twists and which way to go.

I was both grateful and annoyed at the vast amount of windows in the Summer Court. On one hand, they provided lots of light, but on the other, shattered glass covered almost every surface. My knees barked in pain just at the sight of it.

There was less dust in the hallways, thankfully. Enough for me to cough on, though. Most of it had already floated out the windows.

“We’re close.” I declared, as both my nose and my shadows alerted me. Loam and crackling embers, the unmistakable scent of Autumn.

“Nasir and Alen are on that side of the hallway. Rooms nearby.” I gestured. “Daylor is right here.”

“Winnie,” Azriel started, but I was already pushing my way inside.

The door closed behind me, and my father didn’t follow. I didn’t care.

Daylor’s room was as opulent as mine. More so, even. As well, it looked wholly unaffected by the havoc wrought outside. The only indication something had gone wrong were the cracked windowpanes, and the pictures on the wall that were tilted oddly.

And, of course, the male that was sitting on his bed, a silent observer.

“Your father made it sound like you were half dead.” I remarked, still standing by the door. “But you look pretty coherent to me.”

He gave me an insufferable smirk, crossing his arms. It was really unfair how attractive he was. It was unfair that one look took me back to the night before, where he’d had me pinned to the same bed…

“Why didn’t you leave?” I asked, unable to keep the snarl from my voice. “It’s been chaos in the meeting hall. People are dying down in the streets, and yet you’re still just sitting here.”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, didn’t uncross his arms. Eventually, he took a deep breath, and spoke.

“Is Saphira okay? And my mother?”

I gave him the same treatment, and kept silent, even as my instincts screamed at the cruelty of keeping him in the dark.

“Your mother is fine. Organized the search party, actually.”

He snorted. “I’d hardly call one winged girl a search party.”

I picked at my nails, pretending to be bored. “I believe the word you used yesterday was half-breed.”

The smile turned predatory. “And I believe the word you used yesterday was bastard.”

“None of that matters now, Daylor.” I said back, refusing to fall for the bait he offered.

“Of course, Elowen.” He was testing me, seeing how far he could push before I snapped. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure.

His eyes narrowed again, and he asked another question. “What about Saphira? Is she alright?”

A weak spot on the impenetrable heir of the Autumn Court. He cared for his little sister, even more than for Eris, his High Lord and his father.

“She’s fine.” I could almost see the sigh of relief. “Didn’t even cry when the quake happened. She’s resilient, that one.”

Daylor’s handsome face tightened at that, a glare forming, though not aimed at me. The expression lingered for hardly half a second, but I still could see it plain as day.

At the question no doubt evident on my own face, he scowled. “Saphira doesn’t cry. Hasn’t for years.”

There was a story behind that, I was sure. But right now… I suddenly became starkly aware of the situation again. I hated him for it, for the way he could get me off task so easily, distract me so thoroughly. Hell, the entire city was in ruins, and here we were, discussing his younger sister’s habits.

“We need to leave. Get off the bed and come with me.”

Daylor glanced down at the ground. “If I move, this entire floor will collapse beneath us.”

I sent my shadows out, and stiffened at the information they retrieved. Correct, Daylor Vanserra was. He couldn’t move from the bed, for if he did, yet another part of the palace would crash to the earth.

A small spark of panic surged inside me, and I shoved it down quickly. No time to panic. Time to think.

“We don’t have all day, Elowen.” Daylor snarked. I sent a withering glare his way.

“Maybe try and come up with an idea to save yourself, then, if you’re in such a hurry. You know, instead of sitting on your ass for hours.”

I stepped forward, one foot, two feet… the floor gave a loud groan, and I hopped back. A crackling sound came from beneath the plush carpet, no doubt the floor getting ready to give way.

Think, Winnie, think.

I watched as Daylor slowly rose to his feet on the bed, tall enough that he could touch the blue-painted ceiling. He shifted from foot to foot, brushing his hands through his hair in a manner that could almost be considered anxious.

“Stay still.” I hissed through gritted teeth. “This floor is seconds away from collapsing.”

And he listened. I didn’t have time to take in, however, when the floor groaned again, this time sagging right in the middle. When that part went, so would the bed.

Daylor would have to be one lucky bastard to survive that drop. And considering everyone in the meeting hall had survived the earthquake, I was pretty sure our luck was running low.

I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped, far away, with the only exit being the door behind me. My shadows were writhing, collecting information, but nothing of use.

People are dying.

“I know.” I muttered back, “I know.”

“What?” Daylor snapped, crossing his arms again. I ignored him.

I was still mulling over my choices, when, suddenly, the door behind me slammed open. I stepped forward out of shock, my entire foot going right through the floor.

“Winnie!” Azriel roared, but I was already moving. Ripping my foot away, I sprinted to the bed, throwing myself upon it. I didn’t have any more time to think. Just time to move.

Daylor shouted profanities as I grabbed him, scooping him into my arms just like I had done with Neia earlier, though it took more effort.

Crashing sounded behind us, but I didn’t dare look. Instead, I hurled myself off the bed, keeping the male secure in my arms.

The balcony door. It was unlocked, though it didn’t matter, as I smashed through it anyway. Glass exploded around us, and I heard screams, smelled blood, but I didn’t care.

I jumped right off the balcony. I heard Daylor’s roar, one of raw terror, but I didn’t slow. We hurtled towards the ground, the wind shifting the shards of glass deeper inside my skin.

At the last second, I flared my wings wide, a roar of my own on my lips. We soared upward, catching the wind, the sky somehow an open, endless blue, even with the destruction below us.

The wind rippled my hair out of my face, and I breathed the first deep, true breath I had in a while- and I could have enjoyed it further, if it weren’t for the Autumn Court male’s screaming.

Turning back towards the ruined palace, I bit back a yelp of pain as one of the shards of glass dug further into my skin. But it was soon lost in a gasp of horror as I saw the palace from above.

Where we had just left was entirely caved in, floors and floors sliding down the side, still crashing.

My father was still in there.

I blocked out the blind terror that threatened to overtake me, taking in another deep breath. I angled us toward the meeting hall, though every part of me begged to be down in the city, where the scent of terror and despair was pungent.

It didn’t take long for us to arrive back at the palace, with the speed my wings could take me. The glass was growing more painful by the minute, and I knew I needed to stop and get the shards removed.

Everyone was silent as we landed. Every single person, even the littlest children. I practically dumped Daylor onto the floor, but the male managed to keep his balance through sheer luck.

I met the eyes of Eris first. The perpetual scowl, the anger, was still present. In fact, he looked more resentful of me than usual. Even as his son stumbled over to him. Injured, but alive.

His wife spoke to me instead, her littlest child still wrapped up in her arms.

“Thank you.”

I gave her a stiff nod in return, as every movement sent a spark of pain through my body.

Rhysand met me next, pulling me towards him.

“Winnie,” he murmured, “what you just did was incredibly stupid, and incredibly brave.”

“Brave and stupid, my two middle names.” I joked.

“I’m going to get Thesan to heal you.” He continued, though he cracked a small smile.

“Don’t bother.” I insisted. “Just help me get the glass out, and I’ll be fine.”

My uncle gave me a look, but didn’t press. Just led me away from the commotion, to a quieter part of the destroyed meeting hall.

“Where are Cassian and Azriel?” I asked as Rhys worked, gently pulling shards of glass from my body with a pair of tweezers he’d summoned from… somewhere. I almost dreaded his answer.

“Alive.” He answered. “And well. I feel them. Neither is injured.”

I tensed, biting my lip as a particularly long shard was removed. “I just worried. Azriel startled me, and that made half the palace crumble…”

Oh gods. I’d just crushed half the palace. All for one measly male, a Vanserra at that.

“No,” Rhys soothed, “you did not bring half the palace down. Just one wing. And it would have fallen anyway, Winnie.”

“Still.” I muttered, shifting awkwardly where I sat.

We sat in silence for another few minutes, the only noise being the bits of glass pulled from my skin. Blood dribbled from a few of the gashes, though none of it was nearly as bad as Cirrus’s head had been.

When all the glass was gone, Rhys pulled a roll of bandages from the pocket between worlds, wrapping up the most bloody wounds. Thankfully, none of the glass had pierced my wings, leaving most of the bandages to be wrapped around my arms and legs.

The shadows sensed them before I did, this time. I turned to glance up at my father as he arrived. Caked in more dust, but no other visible injuries.

“Winnie.” Azriel breathed, sitting down and pulling me close, though gentle on my fresh injuries. “Thank the Cauldron you’re okay.”

“I thought you might have gotten crushed when the floor collapsed.” I whimpered, allowing my father to hold me.

“No, no.” he insisted. “Winnie, I was so worried- you jumped out of a window, for Cauldron’s sake!”

“I’ve got wings, dad.” I chuckled. “And I’m fine. Did you and uncle Cas get the others?”

Azriel nodded. “Nasir was still out cold. Alen was up, but didn’t know where to go. Both of them are fine now.”

Rhys glanced between us, violet eyes calculating. He was up to something, starting a scheme.

Sure enough, he stood up, offering me a hand up. Azriel stood up as well, brushing the dust off his pants, then looked up suddenly.

They were talking using their minds. A secret, easy communication that was impossible to overhear, not with the way both of their minds were guarded.

“What are you talking about?” I hissed, keeping my voice as low as possible. My father and uncle shared another glance, before my father gave a short, sharp nod.

I’m sending Azriel on a mission. Rhys said into my mind. Something about this doesn’t sit right with me. Cirrus and Mireya getting sick, struggling to reach our magic… this isn’t a normal earthquake.

He was right. But…

Let me go with him. I demanded. It took everything in me to send back just one sentence, but I was determined. I needed to find out what was wrong, who was behind this.

You suspect foul play. Rhys commented. It’s a possibility.

Winnie, you are not going. Azriel sent back. If it is foul play, I don’t want to put you at risk.

I can take care of myself, I thought angrily. I’m strong, and none of my powers were weakened. I need more experience, anyway.

More shared glances, more unspoken conversation. I had no doubt that my uncle had just read my mind, and was now relaying the message back to my father. I just had to hope he’d convince him.

You can go. Rhys finally said. But Azriel says that if there is even a sign of danger, you leave immediately.

Okay. I could work with that. I gave my uncle and father a bright grin, smiling wider when Azriel returned it.

I want you both to leave as soon as possible. Get out of here before anyone questions it. Head back to Velaris, get supplies you need, and go out again. I’ll take care of things here.

“Can I at least tell Tess? And my mother?” I whispered, mind too exhausted to attempt more mental speaking. Rhys nodded.

Quickly.

I nodded, turning away from our small group to the larger one, where I could spot my cousin still with Mireya, keeping her up.

The Winter Court heir was looking better, but not fully recovered. She still looked shaky on her feet, evident by how she was leaning on Tess.

“Tess!” I called, and she looked over. I stepped closer, close enough to breathe into her ear, “I have to leave. My father and I are going on a mission.”

She nodded quickly, turning back to her friend. Tess and I both knew how important secrecy was on a normal day, but this was even more so. If the other courts found out, I knew there would be a big debate.

I met her eyes again, hazel meeting hazel. “You take care of the people down there, Tess.”

Another nod. “I will. Good luck.”

Mireya glanced between us curiously, but didn’t comment. And I turned away, seeking out my mother for one last goodbye.

That was when the shout came, the distinct voice of my little cousin, Caliphe, yelling across the room.

“Cirrus is waking up!”

Cirrus POV

Every part of me hurt. My legs, my back, my head.

Great Cauldron, my head.

Blinking against the harsh sun through the shattered windows, I let out a groan that sounded pathetic, even to me. I could already tell that just sitting up was going to be a trial.

And… the odd, tugging sensation deep in my gut was nearly gone. Before, it had been so intense I couldn’t stand up straight, had puked up my breakfast. Now, it had disappeared, as suddenly as it came.

All of this information, before I even took a proper look around.

The lights were too bright, and I screwed my eyes shut tighter. Still, I couldn’t block out the hazy shadows above me, accompanied by the familiar scents of my family.

Caliphe, more specifically.

“Wake up, sleepy-head.” My little sister demanded. I gave another undignified groan, my head giving a throb of pain from the noise.

“Can’t- get… up.” I mumbled through stiff lips, my tongue dry. “Water…”

“He wants water!” She called, her loud voice causing me to wince again.

Comforting arms wrapped around me, my mother’s scent flooding my senses. She gently pulled me into her lap, as if I were no more than a child, careful of my aching body.

“Drink this.” She coaxed. I cracked my eyes open enough to take in the glass she offered me. How she found a cup of water in the chaos surrounding us, I didn’t know. But I sipped from it gratefully.

Every part of me felt… off. Fuzzy, like a dream.

I had dreamed, when I was unconscious. Flickering flames, shifting from red to orange to gold in an instant, embers crackling loudly.

Strange dreams were the least of my problems, however. Even the odd ache in my gut that had disappeared wasn’t as concerning as the destruction all around us.

I took another sip of water, mentally checking myself over. Head? Throbbing. Body? Aching. And my magic…

Subdued.

“I can’t reach my magic.” I said dumbly, glancing around at my friends and family. “Something is wrong.”

“I know.” Feyre soothed. “It’s happened to all of us. Don’t use your magic right now, Cirrus. Let yourself recover some more.”

“But… my magic.” My mind couldn’t compute. Magic had always been at the tips of my fingers, at my beck and call. I could switch from water to wind to light in an instant, power flooding out of me.

It was still there. All of it was. Just… pushed deep inside of me. Coaxing up even something small, like a drop of water, would be an effort, I could already tell.

And the strange damper was affecting everyone. It seemed like a miracle that the glamour on my wings still held strong. For little Caliphe, hers was gone, Illyrian wings on full display.

“We need to get out of here.” My father urged. “Azriel, I want you and Winnie to take Cirrus back home. Let Madja care for him.”

“I don’t need to be coddled.” I snapped. “I know that there are people who need our help. Don’t push me away.”

“You can’t even stand right now, son.” Rhys deadpanned. “You’re going home.”

After another moment’s hesitation, he gestured to my littlest sister. “Take her as well. She’ll only get underfoot.”

“Hey!” Cali protested, but her demands fell on deaf ears.

“Why are uncle Az and Winnie leaving, anyway?” I interrupted the oncoming tantrum to ask my cousin a question.

“I want to make sure the Night Court hasn’t been affected.” My father responded evenly.

And I want them to search for the source. The quake wasn’t a normal one, that’s for sure.

I gave a brisk nod, not feeling confident enough in my powers at the moment to respond mentally. I trusted Azriel and Winnie. They’d find the culprit, and they’d figure out how to get our powers back fully.

“We should get going.” Azriel said softly. “Sunset is nearly upon us.”

He was correct. The sun was dipping towards the west, and I knew that soon, the sky would be filled with the brilliant pink and orange of a Summer Court sunset.

It had been late morning when the earthquake had happened. How long had I been passed out?

Everyone looked uncomfortably between each other, but said nothing. Instead, Rhys nodded to my uncle.

“Safe travels, brother.”

Winnie took my hand, in preparation for winnowing, while Azriel grabbed Caliphe. My sister looked put out, but didn’t complain.

“Take care of yourself, Cirrus.” My mother whispered, giving me one last soft squeeze. She cracked a forced smile. “And don’t let your sister eat too many cookies.”

“We should all be home soon.” Rhys assured me. “But I want to help Tarquin’s people. Their city was destroyed in the earthquake.

A spark of hatred flashed through me, for my father making me leave, not letting me help. Innocents were dying, losing their homes, and I was being toted back home, nothing more than a wayward child.

But I didn’t have enough energy to be angry. So I just nodded.

“Let’s go.” Azriel said gently. Winnie squeezed my hand once, and then we were gone, squeezed through the pocket between worlds, suffocating for just a second.

And I found myself sitting in the living room of the River House, my cousin by my side. Azriel and Cali sat on another part, my little sister still pissed from being taken from the action.

I took a deep breath, keeping the ache at bay. My head was pounding again, and I shut my eyes against the light.

“I’m getting Madja, and then we’re leaving.” Winnie told me. I nodded vaguely, not quite hearing her.

The sound of fire crackled in my ears, and I sat up straight, surprised to find no flames near me. Visions danced before my closed eyes, flames of glittering gold far too close to my face.

That heat felt real, yet it wasn’t.

“Aunt Lainey had a vision.” Caliphe said bluntly, crawling across the couch after Azriel and Winnie left. My cousin to get the healer, my uncle to gather supplies.

“What about?”

“I don’t remember everything,” my sister shrugged, “but I know she saw a bird. A hawk, I think. Then aunt Nesta and uncle Rhys talked about aunt Amren’s books for a while.”

“Not much to go off, huh.” I muttered dryly, and Cali shrugged again.

Winnie was back, Madja at her side. I reigned in my groan at being coddled, yet again, as the older female came over to examine me.

“Winnie!” Cali said suddenly, jumping up. “What was the rhyme aunt Lainey said? About the blue eyes?”

After a moment of thought, my cousin answered. “The fairest eyes from legends old, the brightest blue, ringed with gold.”

Caliphe nodded, satisfied, while fire flickered at the edge of my vision at her words.

“Winnie, let’s get going.” Azriel called after his daughter. “As far as I’m aware, nothing in Velaris is amiss. We check out the rest of the Night Court, and we keep going.”

Madja glanced up from where she’d been fussing over the cuts on my knees. “If you will, Lord Azriel, not everything is fine. My magic has been weakened.”

The color drained from my uncle’s face. “Here, too?”

Madja nodded. “It’s still there, but hidden. Hard to reach.” Looking over me once more, she continued, “So I’ll give you a tonic for the pain, my Lord.”

“Then our mission has become more important.” Azriel sighed. “Winnie, finish up. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

My cousin didn’t object, slinging a skin of water over her shoulder as well as a small pack of other supplies. Azriel was prepared similarly, and both of them had shadows weaving over their shoulders.

Shadowsingers, the both of them. Some of the only magic that didn’t seem to be affected.

Madja gave me a small, sweet-smelling tonic while she went to work wrapping bandages over my legs. Winnie as well was covered in them, but whatever had caused her to need them couldn’t have been too bad, if she was still being allowed to go with her father.

“I’ll look into that rhyme while you’re gone.” I told her. “You said it might be found in Amren’s books, right?”

Winnie nodded. “Yes. You might want to look at more than that. See if there’s a way to weaken power in a long range.”

She leaned in, squeezing me tight. I returned the hug, as did Caliphe, until Azriel gave a pointed cough.

“Stay safe.” I warned. “You don’t want to leave Tess to beat up all the Illyrian males by herself, do you?”

Winnie gave me a wicked grin as she stepped away. “I wouldn’t dream of it. She can’t have all the glory.”

She stepped away, and I took a sip of the tonic. Clasping hands with her father, the two of them winnowed away, leaving no trace behind.

Cauldron keep them safe, I prayed.

Outside, starlight shone in through the windows. In the short time we’d been in the River House, night had fallen, leaving the only light to be what reflected off the rippling Sidra.

I wrapped an arm around my little sister, sending up a few more prayers while I finished off my tonic. For my family, my friends, for the ruined Summer Court.

More flames, at the back of my mind. My gut gave a soft tug in answer. I ignored it, staring out the window instead.

The brightest blue, ringed with gold.

Instead of those, eyes of piercing forest green stuck in my mind. More fire. A flicker of lightning, a breath of wind. Another tug in my stomach.

Fly fast, Winnie.

~~~~

And there it is! What did y'all think?

Any more guesses on what caused the earthquake/strange sickness/disappearing magic? I mean, it's probably really obvious, but I just love hearing y'alls opinions!

In the scene where Winnie saves Daylor, there's a little bit of something there... a hint of his true self... hm

The next ACOTAR chapter will probably be only Winnie, unless I decide to change something and include another POV... we'll see. Do y'all like the multiple POVs or single POVs more?

As for the next chapter... I won't tell you anything except the Sygan kiss will finally happen. No more info. I will just say, it's going to be intense.

Love y'all! I really hope you liked this chapter!

Comment to be added or removed from the tag list

@queen-of-glass

#worlds of fire and darkness #wofad #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar gen 2 #tog acotar crossover #feysand #elriel #nessian #original characters #fanfiction

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sunlightswallowed · 4 years

Text

Because of some residual effects of the Sundrop on her body, Arianna rarely gets sick after Rapunzel’s birth, and the signs of age are rather slow to begin to show on her.

#♔ ∵ * ∴ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 › hope is the hardest love we carry #♔ ∵ * ∴ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 › let future historians wonder

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shadowspillsink · 5 years

Text

foggy hills, north carolina; wip intro

Foggy Hills, North Carolina, is a quiet little town shrouded in mystery. It is often called “The Vampire Capital of the United States”; its population is ever changing, as rarely anybody stays for too long; even its air is tainted with whispered legends and stories that somehow, everyone learns. It lacks a church, a pizza place, or a mall. It has all the makings of a place of adventure.

Unless you’re eighteen year old Lucrezia Ivy, who’s lived in the same small house at the end of the one cul-de-sac since her father’s death five years and who’s stopped expecting anything even remotely interesting to happen.

At the start of her senior year, Lucrezia has two goals: graduate from high school and get out of Foggy Hills. She hates it here. She’s grown weary of the people who come and go, who leave her with no real friends save for Tammy; she’s reached her limit with the fools from elsewhere who tramp through the town searching for some evidence of ghosts or werewolves or vampires. There’s very little she’d actually miss besides her mother, and her mother encourages her in her endeavors. There’s nothing here for Lucrezia except a bed to sleep on and a calendar that counts down the days until she’s free.

The night before the first day of school, Tammy Carlisle shows up on her front porch, bringing news and a pack of beat up old cards that promise to tell one’s fortune. The news is that Tammy’s cousin, Ray, has finally moved back to Foggy Hills, whereas the cards are met with skepticism and near-derision. They tell of rapid approaching, sudden change, but Lucrezia laughs it off. Nothing ever happens in Foggy Hills, and nothing ever will.

But there’s something in the air, and that something has been brewing for a while now. It threatens to burst and bring with it a wave of death and destruction like never before seen in this community. And it will shatter Lucrezia’s worldview and her life as she knows it.

It starts with the disappearance of a teacher.

Lucrezia fears where it will end.

c h a r a c t e r s

Eighteen year old Lucrezia Ivy considers herself a scientist. She wants to become a nurse. She loves biology. She’s logical, practical, and bored. When she moved to Foggy Hills, she was a wide-eyed tween on the cusp of childhood, a lover of fantasy and science fiction and an avid reader, who never tore her face from a book. But things have since changed. She’s tossed most of her novels and she’s lost the naivety of the young girl she once was. She’s sick of waiting for something interesting to happen in a a place that’s anything but. Persistent, aloof, and introverted to a fault, she’s got few friends and she likes it that way. Despite all of this, deep down, she’s still the same little girl she was when she and her mother first moved down here.

Ramona Reeds is an enigma. She looks about eighteen, but there’s a certain wisdom behind her violet eyes that betrays her secret, if you know what you’re looking for, that is. She’s a pretentious mess of a person who hides her insecurities behind layers and layers of riddles and nice clothing. She’s lived the life of a dozen teens, seen things no child ever should, and given up on anything but superficial personal connections. She’s worked herself into a rut that she wants to crawl herself out of, but damn, is that so very much work. She’s an empty rich kid and she knows it. Might as well play her part.

Spunky, silly, and spiraling; Tammy Carlisle thinks those words describe themselves well. She’d never let it show, though - not to her parents, not to her cousin, and especially not to her best friend. They cling to themselves by a thread and they have been for a while, but it’s fine. She loves magic and the occult, but she’s not supposed to. They know more than they let on, but they don’t want to. What she wants most of all is a normal life with a normal husband and a normal house. But she knows she’s never going to get it.

Patrick and Tristan O’Sullivan are a father and son duo for the century, externally. The ambitious mayor pro tempore and his eager to please son might just be the best things the citizens of Foggy Hills have seen in a long time - but they could also bring this seemingly innocuous town to its knees. Officer O’Sullivan is an unknown in a town where everyone is watched; no one is quite sure what he brings to the table. Tristan is volatile and angry and hiding a secret or two of his own; he stands off to the side, a loner and an outcast. They are impossible to read.

Arianna Ivy is a secretary, a mother, an informal detective, a secret holder. She’s just as ambitious as O’Sullivan is, but four times as patient; just as driven, but twice as nice. She wants nothing more than for her daughter to be safe, and she knows, deep down, that safe is far from here, especially when O’Sullivan is thrust into office - and a chain reaction begins. But she’s got nowhere to go. She’s trapped here by a darker secret then she could ever let out, especially to her daughter.

m i s c e l l a n e o u s

status: first draft

genre: fantasy horror/thriller , young adult (subject to change)

representation: wlw/lesbian (two queer main characters, two queer and married side lesbians), trans/non-binary secondary character, Black

pinterest boards: ray | lucrezia | tammy | tristan | general

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #vampires #wip #wlw #original writing #sapphic #lesbians #fantasy #fiction #thriller #young adult #ya #new adult?#na

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ancientechos · 5 years

Note

🍇🍏🍎🍑🍒

Thank you for the ask! Oof this is long. Fruit headcanon prompts are from here!

🍇 : how would my muse describe their childhood? how much has it impacted the person they are now, or will become as an adult? around what age did they or will they start to mature, and why? do they wish to go back to their days as a child, or have they embraced adulthood?

Laurelis: Laurelis would always say her childhood was happy, though in reality it was rather lonely. Her parents were not especially warm or “available”; they had no idea how to treat a child, and often left her to her own devices. While they weren’t especially purposely cruel, they were neglectful. This is in part what causes Laurelis to be so preoccupied with being useful, not being a nuisance, and not being selfish. As an adult, the relationship between them all improved, but rather superficially — Mrs. and Mr. Thyme know how to treat other adults. Whilst Laurelis loves her parents very much, and they certainly influenced her interest in fashion, she doesn’t especially want to go back to her childhood. She is far happier now.

Brigid: Brigid would describe her childhood as “normal”. She was raised in her tribe by her mother and other women, as well as a few (mostly elderly) men. She learnt how to fight with a variety of different weapons, though she always favoured her axe, and she prided herself as a resourceful and diligent hunter who supported her family. She grew up relatively quickly, though she sees no need to go back to being a child. She is comfortable with her role and responsibilities.

Arianna: She would call her childhood “happy”. With her mother and father being an herbalist and alchemist, respectively, this greatly influenced what she became interested in as an adult. She frequently helped her parents with their respective professions which resulted in her picking up a lot of information early on. In addition, her mother being deaf strongly influenced Arianna’s behaviour as she spent the most time with her.

🍏 : how stable is my muse’s physical health? do they go for regular or semi-regular checkups by a physician? do they have any diagnosed illnesses and / or take any medication? how often do they get sick?

Laurelis: Laurelis greatly enjoys keeping herself in shape. She’s very fit. SE please give miqos muscle sliders. Her legs are especially toned, and she has exceptional endurance. She’s very healthy and doesn’t get sick very easily.

Brigid: Very fit. She wields a heavy axe and wears heavy armour. She is constantly making sure she is in good physical condition in order to better protect those closest to her and act as a provider. She can, however, get sick easily, especially having been living in an isolated area for most of her life.

Arianna: Not especially healthy; she doesn’t exercise, though her endurance is acceptable what with all her walking. Whilst as a child she got sick easily, now that she’s older — and she to all the time she’s spent around patients — she’s developed a resistance to most common illnesses.

🍎 : how stable is my muse’s mental health? have they been diagnosed with any mental illnesses and / or conditions? do they have any undiagnosed mental illnesses and / or conditions? do they or should they attend therapy?

Laurelis: Decent. In times of stress, she can be an emotional bulwark. She strives to anchor and help other; even if she’s in distress, she will push her own feelings to the side to deal with what is more important. She doesn’t break, shut down, or give up easily. However, she does have self-esteem issues as well as difficultly accepting help and assistance from others. She believes she must shoulder everything on her own.

Brigid: Brigid is very stable. She sees the world as it is and prides herself in being an impartial realist. It’s very difficult to move her emotionally, as she is very calm, and resistant to attempts to manipulate her or otherwise take advantage of her. It’s not that she’s unfeeling; she simply has a very solid and well-grounded personality and mentality.

Arianna: Questionable. She does not deal with difficulty or stress well. She has a tendency to disassociate and shut down in the face of strife; she doesn’t want to deal with it, so she chooses to escape instead, even if she can’t physically do so. Arianna becomes sluggish and unresponsive; in worst cases, sometimes catatonic. Additionally, she is exceptionally anxious, as well as paranoid of others’ opinions of her.

🍑 : how meticulously does my muse look after their physical appearance? do they spend a lot of time on their hair, makeup, grooming, and clothing? is there a particular reason why they do or don’t?

Answered here!

🍒 : how much does my muse value companionship? do they constantly keep people around them, or do they prefer to be alone often? do they have or desire to have many friends? do they see every meeting as an opportunity to make a new friend?

Laurelis: Laurelis is a very social person. She adores getting to know new people. Whilst she doesn’t always need to be around others, she quite enjoys being in the company of her friends. She’s extroverted. She absolutely thrives on social interaction and finds it very easy to talk to strangers for any reason at all. Whilst she has a few good friends, she has a tendency to see everyone around her in a positive light even if they aren’t strictly a friend by her standards.

Brigid: Being around others for a long time makes Brigid rather exhausted, moreso the louder her company is. While she has no particular difficulty with engaging others, especially if she needs to, she doesn’t have a desire to strike up new relationships. She is perfectly content with the ones she has now. Thus, while she isn’t shy, she’s not very social, and doesn’t make a habit of seeking opportunities for new friendships.

Arianna: In most cases, Arianna has the bare minimum social interaction required with strangers. A customer in need of treatment or wares? She’ll write her responses – rarely, use sign, if possible. She shies away from new people would much rather stick to those she knows. Even getting to know her is a challenge given how flighty and anxious she is.

#final fantasy xiv #character meme #ask #mine #laurelis #brigid #arianna #cm: of the silver lining #cm: the oathkeeper #cm: of the golden leaf #maiden-born-in-snow #long post

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beencaughts · 6 years

Note

“I’m begging you, don’t do this.”, “Don’t you dare walk out on me.”, “I just can’t do this anymore” :))))

“I’m begging you, don’t do this.”

⊰ v. princess and the moon ⊱

The shouting and yelling coming from the both of them subsided as a tear streamed down Luna’s face. There were many times during their fights where she could feel herself wanting to cry, but this was the first time she couldn’t hold them back. Luna focused her eyes on the ceiling, trying to blink away the rest of her tears but there was no use. The more she tried to fight them, the more fell from her eyes. “Fuck,” the brunette swore as she turned away from Prince to dry her face. She couldn’t believe that she allowed herself to fall so deeply into Prince that he made her cry. It was embarrassing how much effort she put into building something with him while she rarely got anything in return. Luna loved him—she wanted to—but she couldn’t continue to try and love someone who pushed her away whenever she wasn’t in his bed. The sudden silence in the room didn’t help her feel better either because she knew that he was stunned by her crying. “Maybe you’ve been right this whole time, Prince. Maybe we should stop seeing each other,” She spoke softly and slowly to disguise the hesitation in her voice. She made no attempt at looking at Prince again before she dragged herself back to his room, swapping his shirt for her own clothes from the day before. Luna tried to ignore Prince following her every moment as she removed any reminder of herself from his flat, the occasional tear still falling from her eyes. She was still surprised when he grabbed ahold of her wrist, his expression soft and troubled. “I’m begging you, don’t do this.” Luna’s lips parted slightly at his words. She couldn’t believe that he was actually asking her not to leave. Just last week Prince was telling her they had nothing, and now he was begging her not to leave. It was times like these where he’d show her tiny cracks in his armor that made her want to stick around, but it was too late now. Her mind was made up, and now it was up to Prince to win her back. “It’s gonna take a lot more than that for me to still put up with your bullshit, Prince.” Her words came out harshly, almost as if she thought that his attempt was weak and pathetic. “I’m a person with feelings, okay? I know you like to think of me as something you use but I’m not.” Shaking her head, Luna removed his hand from her arm before making her way to the front door.

⊰ v. no reason ⊱

Iola could feel her heart break into a million pieces at the sight of Jason at her feet, crying and begging her not to do this. She didn’t want to break up with Jason—she had to. Iola couldn’t ask him to abandon all of his connections and hard work in Chicago to move to LA with her. That felt entirely too selfish. And she was too scared to even attempt long distance. Iola was scared that if they did long distance, their relationship would slowly die. That eventually they’d become an obligation to each other rather than being in a relationship. She preferred to end things when they were still in love with each other, not when they fell out of it. Iola tried so hard to get Jason to understand that the whole day, but there was no getting through to him. In Jason’s mind, there was a way to make things work even though Iola exhausted all options. “Jason, please,” Iola cried, her tears a constant stream down her face. Her mascara was smudged across her face and she could hardly breathe from crying so hard. All she wanted to do was take Jason into her arms, but this was her decision and she had to stick by it. Iola pulled him to his feet before taking his face in her hands. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.” They were both being extremely dramatic, but their feelings for each other were so intense this was the only way. Iola never felt this way about any guy before. She was only 18, but she already knew that Jason was the man she was meant to spend the rest of her life with. She just wished she didn’t have to give him up. Iola hadn’t even pushed Jason away when he pulled her in for a kiss. It was sloppy and messy compared to their typical sweet kisses. Iola eventually detaches herself from Jason, making up an excuse about it getting dark outside so she had to be back home. Even though it broke Iola’s heart to leave Jason a sobbing mess in his living room, she knew that in the long run it’d be for the best.

⊰ july 17th ⊱

Arianna didn’t know when she and Zayn reached the point in their relationship where one of them thought this was the end for them. They had been so in love. Even when obstacles got in their way and tragedy hit, their love had been what got them through. But these days, the pair had been fighting more and more, and it had become so tiring that Arianna was beginning to wonder was their love enough this time. Sure, they had gotten into bigger arguments — ones that should have resulted in Arianna leaving anyway — but that had been in those days where she convinced herself that there was no other way to live than with Zayn by her side. These days Ari realized that dealing and living with pain constantly plaguing her heart wasn’t worth it just to have the person causing it by her side. The two of them had just been arguing about something so minimal it probably wasn’t worth remembering, and it had escalated to a place it should have never gone. Things were said that probably shouldn’t have been, and Ari was at her wit’s end. “Oh my god,” she groaned, throwing her head back in frustration, and the tears rolled down her face. “What is the fucking point in being together then, Zayn? If all we do is hurt each other and argue what is the point? Don’t you get tired of fighting and making up just to fight again because I am. All I do and all I have ever done is hurt in this relationship. I have my breaking point, and honestly, this is it.” Arianna had turned her back on her husband, going up to their room to pack her things. This argument, unlike the others, had one of them threatening to leave. This wasn’t the first time Ari had taken off after an argument, but she had promised that she was coming back, and she surely didn’t mention ending what was their engagement at the time. But Arianna was genuinely sick of Zayn’s shit, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She hadn’t packed much of anything since she had all intentions of coming back after going to Reni’s for the night. Arianna tried her hardest to ignore the presence of her husband following her throughout their home, but when he stopped her before she could reach their front door begging her not to do this in the most heartbreaking tone he’s ever used with her, it was difficult for Ari to pretend he wasn’t there. She never wanted to hurt the man she loved especially like this, but even Arianna needed a break sometimes. “Zayn, I’m tired.” She had used the saying with him so many times when they fought, but looking at the dark circles forming under her eyes, and the fatigue fueling her body made it clear that this time she really was tired. “I’m tired,” she said just above a whisper, but her tone giving another meaning to her words. Not only was she tired, but Ari was done too. She gave her husband one last glance before walking out of the door, hoping that tomorrow maybe they could put this useless fighting behind them once and for all.

“Don’t you dare walk out on me.”

⊰ v. princess and the moon ⊱

Luna’s hand froze on the doorknob at Prince’s menacing voice. She was never one to follow his orders, but she slowly dropped her hand from the knob and turned to face her husband. It had been a while since Luna and Prince fought like this. They’d been married for a while and had two beautiful kids; their life was picture perfect, but Luna was dealing with personal issues that intercepted her perfect life. It annoyed her how much Prince didn’t understand and chose to pick arguments with her instead. Their fights started off small and would be over in ten minutes before Luna went back to distancing herself from him. But tonight, Prince wasn’t allowing her to do so. She wanted to leave their room before they got too loud and woke up Leo and Sage, but hearing Prince use that tone of voice with her stopped her in her tracks. It’d been so long since he’d used such a demanding and scary tone with her. It was a real indicator of how sick of her shit he was. Luna folded her arms over her chest, her eyes challenging him. “Or what, Prince? Y’know, this argument is so fucking stupid. So what I haven’t paid you any attention? You’re still my husband, and I need you to understand that I’m dealing with stuff.” Luna was getting angrier at Prince, but she couldn’t hide the hurt in her voice. “And despite that, I still clean your house. I still cook your food. I still pay your bills, and I still take care of your fucking kids. So I’m sorry if the only fucking thing I’m not doing is you!” Luna seethed, gradually stepping closer to Prince and shoving him slightly on the word ‘you.’ It was if they reverted back to their old selves because their argument only grew louder and angrier before Luna couldn’t take it anymore and kissed him. If attention was what Prince wanted, then this was the best way he was going to get it from her. Her fingers immediately bury themselves in his hair, a sense of warmth washing over her at the feeling of her husband wrapping his arms around her waist. Luna was expecting them to be rougher with each other, but the kiss was long and slow. It was passionate like they were trying to say ‘I missed you’ because they were too stubborn to actually say it. Luna wasn’t sure that after this, everything would go back to how it used to be.

⊰ v. no reason ⊱

Iola couldn’t believe that Jason was being so assertive with her right now. Usually, Iola was the loudest and dominating one, but Jason didn’t even have to raise his voice to get her to submit to his command. Their argument started the same way it usually did: Iola got jealous. She really hadn’t meant to read Jason’s messages, but she couldn’t stand hearing his phone vibrate after the third time. Iola only wanted to silence it. It wasn’t her fault her boyfriend wasn’t smart enough to turn off his message previews. It was his ex-girlfriend inquiring about the next time Jason was free for dinner again. She hated that he even entertained the girl even though he knew how it would make her feel. Iola felt like she had every right to demand some space from Jason, but he was clearly not on board with her plans. Her eyes searched his face for any sign of faltering; however, Jason stood firm. She was still so angry with him but it was now placed elsewhere. There was something about Jason straying away from his typical docile demeanor that made Iola suddenly attracted to him. With a defeated sigh, Iola threw her purse onto the counter. Her lips were on his in an instant. She was naturally inclined to take control, but she let Jason take the lead. Their argument was nowhere near finished. She was still so incredibly pissed that he would still talk to his ex, but they could argue about it after she was done basking in the feeling of lips on her neck, his hand pushing her head to the side to give him more access.

⊰ v. katie and leo ⊱

Steam from the bathroom diffused into the air in his room as Leo stepped out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. He wasn’t expected company, so he was a bit surprised to see Katie chilling on his bed. They didn’t tend to tell each other when they were stopping by, but it was a bit awkward since he was only dressed in a towel that left little to the imagination. The awkwardness hadn’t lasted long, though. Leo saw this as his opportunity to get her back for teasing him at his cousin’s party. “What are you doing here?” Leo asked, trying to bite back the smirk on his face. He only pretended to listen as he climbed over her to occupy the space next to her on his bed. His body was mostly dry, but his hair was still dripping wet. Leo laughed when she gave him a friendly shove for getting water on her. “There’s more where that came from.” Taking ahold of Katie’s arms and pinning them beside her head, Leo straddled her, shaking his wet locks over her. It was funny to him that she was even attempting to wiggle out of his grasp. But once their playfulness died down, all that there was left was the two of them alone in his room. Leo barely dressed on top of Katie and their faces so close together he could feel her breath on his face. He brought their faces closer together, their lips brushing against each other. “Katie,” Leo breathed. “I know you came up here because you couldn’t help yourself seeing me in this towel, but I have to get dressed now,” Leo smirked, releasing his hold on her arms and going to grab his clothes. The older boy was steps away from reentering his bathroom when her words chimed in his ear. “Don’t you dare walk out on me.” Katie was likely saying it because she was more angry with him than turned on, but that wasn’t how Leo interpreted it. He leaned against the doorframe, pretending to consider her request. “As much as I know you want me, I’m gonna have to take a raincheck. Maybe next time like when I have the ‘honor of escorting you home’?” He teased, throwing her words back at her. Leo wanted Katie to know that this was payback for the party, With a wink, he closed the bathroom door and locked it before she had the chance to retaliate.

⊰ v. what if ⊱

The sound of the movie filled the room, but Ari couldn’t focus on any of it because Ashton wouldn’t shut up. Arianna shouldn’t have been so surprised that Ashton was trashing her husband. Whenever she talked to him it was mostly complaints about Zayn, from the smallest things to the biggest. It seemed alright when she did it because she was married to him, but Ashton had feelings for her. It was only a recipe for disaster. He’d been going on for 30 minutes about how badly Zayn treated her at times, even going back to events that happened on the show. Arianna knew that she didn’t exactly have the perfect marriage or even the perfect relationship, but she didn’t want to hear it from him. It was like he was rubbing it in her face. “I get it, Ashton!” Arianna snapped, suddenly standing on her feet. “I think I should just go. I came here to hang out with you, not get fucking marriage counseling.” Ari was about to go up the stairs to Ashton’s room to retrieve her things, but him commanding her not to walk out on him caused her to pause. Her body was still faced toward the stairs, but she turned her head to get a look at Ashton. “And give me one good reason why I shouldn’t?” Of course, this exploded a bomb that she was not quite prepared for. Ashton exploded, telling her that he loved her and the only reason he was complaining about Zayn in the first place was to get her to realize that he was the better choice. Ari told him many times that what was going on between them wasn’t a matter of choosing, but they both knew that one day she’d have to pick. Ashton was only making sure he was even considered. Sighing, Arianna turned towards him. “Ashton, you’re the one that left! He told me to pick you and I did, but you were gone. Not a word or a letter. This is just as much your fault as it is mine, so try not to make yourself look so pathetic and take some damn responsibility.”

“I just can’t do this anymore”

⊰ v. princess and the moon ⊱

Prince’s living room was oddly serene. Moonlight filtered in through the slightly open blinds while the only sound in the room was heavy breathing. It was odd because, despite their calm surroundings, Luna felt like she was losing her grip on reality by the second. His lips were molded to hers, his hand grabbing her face roughly as she straddled him on the couch. Luna was grateful Pandora was away for the rest of the night because there was no way they were making it all the way to his room at this point. They were already enjoying each other in the best way they knew how. Luna was completely immersed in the moment with Prince. His hands were everywhere: her hair, back, neck —it drove her absolutely mad. A constant stream of moans floated through the room, Prince’s lips now on her neck. Luna wanted to say she didn’t know what came over her or why she said it, but she knew exactly why. She was in the heat of the moment when she let the words slip past her lips: “Fuck, I love you so much.”

It was wishful thinking on her part to think that Prince could forget she ever said it. It wasn’t like they allowed her confession to kill the moment, but it was definitely a bit awkward after when they both had time to actually process it. Luna could tell that Prince kept his distance after that and this was why. “I just can’t do this anymore,” he told her, no sign of sympathy in his voice or on his face. In fact, he looked annoyed that she would even put him in this position. Luna thought to say she didn’t really mean it, that she’d only said it because she felt good, but it would be a lie and he’d know it. Lately, Luna had been more clingy than usual. She wanted to be around him even when they weren’t having sex. It was weird. It wasn’t as if Prince was that nice to her. He had his moments where he’d give her a peck or show some other form of affection, but it wasn’t something that happened often (not at that point, anyway). Luna feigned annoyance even though she was more hurt than anything. She rolled her eyes at Prince. “Wow, you’re letting some stupid words get to you that much? I’m not trying to be your girlfriend or anything. All we do is fuck and chill; I know that. It’s not like we’re getting married, relax.” Luna wanted to challenge him, though. She wanted to ask why her feelings would get in the way of what they had. Sure, she knew Prince hated when girls got too attached, but Luna felt there was more to the story. She knew deep down that he was only trying to end things because he was scared that her feelings were reciprocated.

⊰ v. no reason ⊱

Iola’s hand shifted to a fluorescent red as her grip on her phone grew tighter. There was silence on Jason’s end, the only sound reaching her eyes was the static of the phone. There wasn’t much more for him to say after he told her he just couldn’t do it anymore because of how young she was. Iola figured that he would need some time to wrap his head around their age difference, but she never thought he’d end what they had. They were having so much fun together. It didn’t make sense to her; it broke her heart. Iola didn’t even respond to Jason before she ended the call. She was frozen in her spot in the middle of the room, her anger causing tension throughout her limbs. And before she knew it, Iola was throwing her phone across the room and putting a small hole in her wall. “I can’t believe him!” Iola roared before she flung her figure onto her bed, burying her face in the heap of decorative pillows she had. She heard her door open and close, but Iola was too upset to even look up and see who it was. “Iola, what’s wrong?” Her mom asked as she took a seat on Iola’s bed. The teen debated whether she should confide in her mom. Her mom was the more understanding parent, but she didn’t think her mom would be so sympathetic that a 20-year-old broke up with her. Flipping onto her back, Iola sighed. “This guy wants to stop hanging out with me because he’s a little older and didn’t find out until last week. It’s so stupid! It’s not even like we’re doing anything, mom. We were literally just hanging out as like friends or whatever.” Iola was sugar coating things for the sake of keeping her mom out of her business because things with Jason was a bit more than just friends. She really liked him. He was sweet, dorky, cute and ambitious. He was genuine. A few too many times, Iola let the wrong people in who only wanted to take advantage of her based on her family’s status, but Jason liked her for her. It was a shame that he was allowing their age difference to ruin their budding relationship. Her mom was attempting to give her advice, but Iola didn’t want to hear any of it anymore. She turned onto her side, facing away from her mom, tears welling up in her eyes. “Can I just get some time alone?”

⊰ july 17th ⊱

Arianna couldn’t even look Zayn in the eye. She was feeling a mixture of emotions. She was sad because she couldn’t believe that he was actually trying to end their relationship, but she was also angry for the same reason. She was embarrassed too. Arianna began wondering why was it that she dealt and put up with everything this relationship brought forth for it all to have been for nothing. A few years of being in love wasn’t worth the amount she’d have to spend knowing that the man she committed her life to suddenly didn’t feel the same. She felt like bursting into a million tears and crying and screaming her heart out in the privacy of her bedroom, but Zayn was still standing in front of her, and Ari wanted to keep some of bit of decency. “This whole relationship has been tiring, but y’know, I stuck around and worked it out because that’s just what you do. I’ve had to deal with so much shit just for it all to come down to this?” Ari scoffed, her eyes looking straight at Zayn now, but her vision completely blinded by her tears. She had to put up with a lot over the years: cheating, addiction, rehab, almost dying, the loss of their kid and so much more, and he hadn’t even considered going to counseling. He was just ending it. Ari didn’t know how to take that. Her eyes never left her husband’s as she stood, slowly approaching him. “You cannot even begin to imagine the hell you put me through. And through all of that, I held out hope that when we finally got married things would be better. I thought I’d get my happy ending. I deserve it.” Tears flowed down her face, feeling absolutely distraught by his words until something clicked in her mind. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like crying anymore because she knew what she had to do. “No,” Ari breathed. “No. This is not over, Zayn. It won’t be until you at least try like I have the past five years.”

⊰ v. katie and leo ⊱

Leo hadn’t meant to but he laughed at his best friend. There was something smug about the way he had his arm draped over the backrest of the couch, a smirk on his face, and man-spreading. He wasn’t surprised that Katie was getting jealous over all of the attention he was receiving because it always happened this way: one of them having a grade school crush and getting jealous while the other didn’t. Just a few months ago, Leo was the one getting butterflies in his stomach and his eyes lighting up from the mere mention of her. He would get jealous of seeing her with other guys, but he hadn’t gotten the impression it was the same for her. Sure, he knew with complete certainty that they’d get together eventually, he just never knew when. These days, Leo was only doing what they agreed on and seeing other girls until they were both ready. Apparently, the back and forth between them was driving Katie mad. “I wish you would’ve said all of this before I had to watch you mess around with that twat a few months ago,” he pointed out nonchalantly. He could tell that Katie was getting more annoyed with him so he dropped the smug act. Leo reached out for her hand gently, pulling her onto his lap with an arm wrapped around her waist. “Katie, I know we’re in this weird situation where we’re always in limbo. One of has a bigger crush while the other seems like they don’t even though we both know that’s not true. It’s just that person with the crush has gone grade school level with it.” He paused, questioning if he made sense to himself before he continued. “But you know at the end, I only want you. I don’t care about any of the birds I mess around with. They’re just here for the experience like we said they would be,” Leo reassured her with a smile. “And besides, you’re my best friend. There’s no way I was letting you end anything between us.”

#prxttylittle #yknow all i got from that second princess and moon meme is that luna is v domestic wow i love a wife #iola was quite the dramatic teen #also these were kinda bad OOPS #( meme reply. )#⊰ v. princess and the moon ⊱#⊰ v. no reason ⊱#⊰ v. what if ⊱#⊰ v. katie and leo ⊱#⊰ july 17th ⊱

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rpsocsandcanonohmy · 6 years

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Jewel & Gil

1. Gil makes the first move after months of deliberation and watching romcoms for proposal ideas. Eventually, he settles on a small bouquet of daisies and stuttering his way through “Would you like to have dinner on Saturday?”

2. Whoever is most insecure really depends on the day, but they both do whatever they can to make sure the other knows their loved.

3. Gil is the most romantic. He’s always surprising her with flowers, chocolates, and other little gifts. Sometimes he’ll write a poem or sing her a song.

4. Neither of them is very touchy. Sometimes Gil is in a clingy mood, but even then he usually waits for her to initiate.

5. They both say it at the same time a few months before he proposes.

6. Never even considered it and neither of them knows anyone who would be up for it anyways.

7. The most they get up to on date night is dinner and a show. They’re simple folks who just want to enjoy each other.

8. They’re both very gentle. Gil likes compliments and taking it easy. Jewel likes an atmosphere and foreplay is always a plus. Noth of them enjoy a little teasing, but nothing over the top.

9. Jewel’s burned a cake or two. Gil trips on his own feet a lot.

10. Gil: “God is a Woman”-Arianna Grande, “Eye of the Tiger”-Survivors; “Beauty and the Beast”, “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”-Douglas Adams; A canteen and a box of matches. Jewel: “Sing for You”-Angie Johnson, “Song of the Caged Bird”-Lindsey Stirling; “The Secret of the Old Clock” Caroline Keene, “Pride and Prejudice”-Jane Austen; A mirror, her sketchbook.

11. Gil doesn’t like having secrets but he feels bad if he ever mentions feeling tired, especially if she hasn’t had a great day. Sometimes Jewel will hide when she’s had a bad day. (but lbr, they know each other too well for this to work)

12. Once they started getting serious, they made an effort to open up to each other. Gil talked about living on the Isle and Jewel opened up about her parents. Eventually, they shared nightmares.

13. Neither of them thought of it as “should”, they just knew this was someone they liked and thought it might be worth a shot.

14. When one of them is sick, the other dotes on them almost constantly.

15. They usually choose a light film, a comedy, kids movie, or a romcom. Jewel usually gets the final vote but sometimes Gil actually does choose the movie when it’s his turn.

16. They fight and survive. They don’t stop and think about everything until the zombie situation is under control and there’s some semblance of society being rebuilt. Then they hold each other and cry for a solid half-hour before drying their eyes and getting to work.

17. Neither of them can really think of where or when to go. They don’t want to revisit their past or risk messing up something in the future.

18. After a fight, apologies are made and they spend the next few days making it up to each other. Gil orders flowers and her favorite candies to the house and Jewel cooks his favorite meals and they spend a lot more time cuddling.

19. Their first date was lunch at a small cafe. Neither of them wanted to do anything too big, but it was still a special day for them.

20. On their honeymoon, they went on a camping trip outside of Auradon central and they try to make that same trip every year.

21. Gil hasn’t felt comfortable in a bar or club in years and crowds are a big no for both of them.

22. Their first kiss happens just outside the door to the Girls’ dorms. Gil was extremely nervous and neither of them wanted to get caught, so it was very brief, but it still meant a lot.

23. Just about anywhere. If they’re both safe and comfortable, it’s perfect.

24. In the home they bought just after graduation. They were both so happy, finally safe and starting to feel a little normal. It was a bit clumsy, but they look back on that day with fondness.

25. Their fights are rare, so it’s pretty much always over something big. Sometimes a boundary was crossed or they found out about something the other was keeping secret.

26. They have a serious chat when it comes to a big decision one or both of them have to make. Sometimes it’s financial, sometimes it’s professional, sometimes it’s personal. They never make a big move without consulting the other first.

27. Their friends get annoyed when they hesitate with the other. Uma and Harry almost asked Jewel out for him and Ben tried to push Jewel to open up more with Gil.

28. They don’t get jealous. They know they don’t have anything to worry about.

29. For Gil, it’s the little moments only he gets to see, like when Jewel first wakes up and her hair’s a mess and there’s a little drool on the pillow but that means it was a good nigth and she looks perfect anyway. For Jewel, it’s the sweet things he says to her at random moments. Those “You look nice” “I like that dress on you” “You really should put your work in a show room...”

30. It works for them because they’re honest with each other. Even when they’ve been caught with a secret, they give a solid answer instead of an excuse. They hold each other steady.

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nann-the-explorer · 3 years

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The first thing that happened was the wolf growled at Nann. "Hush Ras, this is Nann. She's my friend." it looked almost comical, the look on the wolfs face as he stared at Nann. Bright blue eyes stared into her own as if he was assessing her. He turned to Arianna and made a whimpering noise, his ears flattening. She looked to Nann apologetically. "Sorry, he can sense Ituith’ryiel." *turns back to Ras* "it's OK, I know and he's not a threat to us. Now let's go back to the others." Arianna couldn't stop smiling, she was reunited with Ras! She was practically buzzing. He followed the two women closely, just who else had Arianna befriended in such a short space of time? Two humans were in the village centre, both had a unique scent about them. One smelt of medicine and the other smelt like a subtle cologne. It was either from an almost empty bottle or a rarely used one. "Captain! Doctor! May I introduce to you Rasputin de Lune." Arianna had a degree of pride in her voice. Ras looked at the captain and inclined his head in a bow but soon his attention was back on Nann again. "Did you find anything interesting?" she asked the Doctor and captain. Ras let out what sounded like a sigh as he sat next to Nann. Doctor Kirkham again mentioned checking inside one of the houses but as she approached the nearest front door. "Do not open the door doctor. The villagers are highly contagious." the three crew members looked around searching for the owner of the voice. Arianna nodded, "Have you seen the Shaman?" Nann was the first to realise it was Ras talking. "yes, she is in a cave on the other side of the village. She wanted to check the water was still clean, I saw the cluster of storm clouds in the distance and guessed it was you." Arianna smiled at the wolf. "You were correct. I'm so relieved you are unhurt. We found a polymorph just outside the fields." Ras nodded sagely "He's been creeping around the village the last few nights. It's another reason why we shut the sick inside… he has already fed on the chickens and a couple of goats, well, the few that were still OK." Ras wandered behind a fence but continued to talk. "whatever spread this sickness has other goals too. The sickness seems to be a way of making its prey weak. The children were the last to get ill. I tried to protect them but they wanted to care for the elders. When I arrived at the village a fight had just finished. There were villagers laying outside barely able to breath. Something had taken their children." A man with hair the colour of moonlight re-emerged from behind the fence. His hair was tied back in a loose half up half down style exposing his pointed ears, he was six foot tall and was as pale as Arianna. It made his blue eyes seem even brighter. He was dressed in jeans with a black three quarter length shirt and soft brown boots. A black chord wrapped around his neck with a small hematite stone pendant. His arms had similar rune markings up his forearms, unlike Arianna's, his were black. "let me take you to Rowana. She isn't far." Ras led the way and Arianna fell into step with Nann. "Ras is an elf like me. Though he has his own special qualities." she lowers her voice. "he is cursed with the moon of the lycan. Unlike those who are bitten, he has the ability to control his form. Changing from elven to wolf whenever he desires. There is more but it is not my place to say. Maybe he will tell you sometime. We have known each other for over one hundred years."

Nann backed up a little as Ras growled at her. They weren't to surprised, that the wolf reacted this way, but still, they were cautious about it. Ituith'ryiel growled at the back of their mind.

*Nann! Make that furball stop looking at us this way, or I'll do it.*

Nann whispered a little warning at Ituith'ryiel through her gritted teeth.

*Stop it, you will behave, you outsized squid! He's just as cautious about you as you are about him.*

Eventually, the wolf's mistrust seemed to fade a little, as Arianna introduced them to each other and made clear, that Nann was not a threat. Nann couldn' help but smile at Arianna's excitement about the return of her companion and wondered if they would ever reach a point where they'd miss Ituith'ryiel this way if he were gone.

Dr. Kirkham smiled as Arianna came back with her companion and the Captain returned the little polite bow to Ras. Nann chuckled a little, as Ras finally sat next to them with a cute little sigh. They wanted to pet him, but weren’t too sure if he was so happy about that.

*I am happy that you found your friend this fast. As for your question ... the totems were destroyed on purpose as it seems, as if someone wanted to erase the children from the vilagge's history. We didn't look into the houses, though, the risk of also getting infected is too high.*

Dr. Kirkham growled a little at the Captain's words and shook her head.

*This is awful, Samuel, I can't let sick people simply suffer. I swore a medical oath!*

She wanted to disobey. Not the first time in her long period of serving with the Captain and he was used to argue a lot with her about that. Yet, he couldn't think of a more capable ship's doctor.

But just as she was about to open one of the doors of the small houses, they heard a pleasant male voice speaking. First, they were unsure who that voice belonged to, until Nann looked at Ras with big eyes.

*Good galleon, that was you ...?*

The ship's crew listened closely to the conversation of Ras and Arianna and what Ras told them about his findings in the village. They weren't too surprised, when he changed his appreance from an animal to a tall man that looked similar to Arianna in many ways. They had seen their fair share of morphing beings today, so as long as Arianna trusted him, they would too. The Captain, however, growled a little disappointed.

*Thank you for all these informations. But as far as I understand it, you don't know the culprit either yet? We really should speak with that shaman ... maybe she knows more about this or at least has a hint on what is going on.*

Captain Alardice now was content, as Ras took the lead to the shaman, who's name obviously was Rowana. They followed the white haired man to the place, the shaman had retreated and Nann listened to Ariannas storie of Ras with a little smile on their face. Although they were happy now that they didn’t had tried to pet him as a wolf. That would now have been rather embarrassing.

*I see, he's a truly interesting person. And somehow he seems very curious about Ituith’ryiel and me …*

The cave, where they were supposed to meet the shaman was remarkable. The entrance seemed rather inconspicuous at first, but the inside looked like a crystal wonderland of opal and nacre. Nann was overwhelmed at the sight, while Captain Alardice was more interested to meet the shaman. The middle-aged woman sat at the spring of a little river, her hair had the color of a bonfire and curled in a huge wave all over her head and shoulders. She wore a robe that had little bones, dry leaves and wood sewn into it. The pattern on the robe resembled the markings on the totems, indicating that she was deeply connected with the village and the nature surrounding it. She had her back turned on the group but still could recognize who was nearing.

*Who have you brought me, Ras? One of your kind. But the others seem troubled by a curse themselves … *

#oc roleplay #roleplay #arianna the druid #nann the explorer

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travelonlinetipsofficial · 3 years

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London Afternoon Tea Rooms: 10Best Tea Room Reviews

New Post has been published on https://www.travelonlinetips.com/london-afternoon-tea-rooms-10best-tea-room-reviews/

London Afternoon Tea Rooms: 10Best Tea Room Reviews

Tea and Britain go hand in hand. It’s the national drink which solves every problem, accompanies every life event, and can – at times – be synonymous with unabashed luxury. Visitors may have to get used to its cultural weight (serve the wrong type of cream with your scone and you could be banished from the kingdom forever), but a proper afternoon tea carries the kind of charm and calm that feeds a lifetime of period drama fantasies. Maybe you planned ahead and got to that one spot that requires a bit of time on a waiting list. Or maybe you’re into something a bit more cross-cultural. Maybe you’re staying in the outer neighbourhoods, dreading a journey into Zone 1 and longing for something a little bit low-key. There’s an afternoon tea to fit any mood and agenda, and no visitor has experienced true Englishness until they had their fill of egg and cress sandwiches, berry jam, and all manner of goodies served on a fancy ol’ platter or brought by on a trolley cart. So put on your pearls and get your cravat in order, book your town car to Mayfair and be sure to bring your camera. London’s afternoon teas are unforgettable, and they absolutely exceed the hype.

While most would head west to Mayfair and beyond for their 3:30pm tea appointment, savvy media types may need to stick to Soho for theirs, and there’s no better place for celebrity spotting and a proper stylish sit-down than the Dean Street Townhouse. Afternoon Tea includes a selection of “fancy cakes” and buttered crumpets, as well as creams, jams, scones, and sandwiches. High tea is another matter entirely – think more savouries like macaroni and cheese and a scotch duck egg. The Townhouse’s lush interiors will make you feel like you’re meeting Kate Moss between shoots, and you could positively nod off in their lushly upholstered seating.

Recommended for Afternoon Tea because: The spot is as versatile as it is hip – it’s perfect for dinner, drinks, or a traditional tea.

Arianna’s expert tip: Branch out to more rare teas, like the “smoky and mysterious green variety Lapsang Souchong.

Read more about Dean Street Townhouse →

The Bluebird is a Chelsea institution, covering a goodly chunk of prime real estate on the King’s Road and offering everything from fine dining to boutique shopping and casual drinks. Their low(er)-key cafe offers up casual, chic nibbles and drinks, including a proper afternoon tea. At £22.50 per person, you could enjoy assorted finger sandwiches along with a choice of tea (Flowering Osmanthus? Darjeeling 2nd Flush? Blackcurrant and hibiscus?) and take in the sights – mainly socialites with tiny dogs, that sort of thing. Add £7 for a glass of Moet & Chandon Brut. Go on – you’re in Chelsea now.

Recommended for Afternoon Tea because: It’s a more al fresco alternative to the normally cosy afternoon ritual.

Arianna’s expert tip: Sit on the outdoor patio in the spring and summer. Even in the chillier months, they are well equipped with all manner of heating device.