#at the end of this dark terrible tunnel lies the promise of being able to read about the siege of plataea.

[nintendo64alexg]

to be honest id rather fucking kill myself than learn about eukaryotic gene expression right now. but i must soldier on

[novantinuum]

Hi, I was just wondering if you had ever thought about what would have happened in your story "Hollowed Moon" if you had continued it. I always thought it was such an interesting setup that could have gone in so many different directions. And there really aren't other stories focusing on Stevonnie and Spinel, so it was unique!

Hiya!

So, I do have some half-written, half-plotted out material to share. I gave this story some consideration the other day, and came to the decision that I don't have the desire to finish it out, alas- I have far too many other active WIPs to add it to the list. There's a few good reasons why I discontinued it, anyways... intimidation over the huge surge of attention it was getting back in 2019, some rude comments from overzealous Spinel fans, (I know everyone isn't like this, but a certain segment of the Spinel side of the SU fandom kinda burned me over time, hhh), and a future chapter containing a sensitive topic that I wasn't in a good headspace to write about at the time.

But! Anyways! Below the cut is all the existing material I have for Hollowed Moon past chapter 14, consisting of a mixture of descriptions, sketchy dialogue, and prose. It honestly feels nice to finally be able to put this story to an official rest.

__

Chapter 15

“I... I saw her.”

“Who-?”

“I saw Pink Diamond. I saw you, in this exact garden, in a dream. I- it was like I was experiencing everything through her. She explained your game, tapped your nose and told you to smile, then warped away—“

“That’s it, that’s what happened, almost exactly! But how could you even know that, I never—“

“I don’t know,” they blurt out. “I have empathic abilities, and sometimes that makes dreaming a little weird, but I have no idea how or why I saw any of this.”

[Pause for Stevonnie to think]

“Spinel, I’m so, so sorry,” they whisper brokenly. “But I think... she left you here.”

“What...?”

“She said she’d return, but before she warped away she whispered goodbye, like she didn’t actually intend to make good on that promise. She was lying to you,” they choke out, voice thick.

“No. No,” she says in clear denial, “no she’s not. She can’t be! She told me she’d come back! I can wait! I just have to wait—“

“But she’s not! She... she can’t, because Pink Diamond is gone. She- she was shattered, Spinel. Five thousand years ago, on the Earth. I- I should’ve told you this from the beginning, and I didn’t, and I- I’m so, so sorry—! But she left you behind, and now she’s never coming back.”

[Silence. Tears brim in Spinel’s eyes. Her eyes grow dark, pained, and then she glares at Stevonnie with such venom it almost knocks them backwards in alarm. ]

“NO!” she screams, tears streaming down her faded pink cheeks.

[She tears her feet up from the roots and runs away, using her arms like an orangutan to vault herself forward super fast so Stevonnie can’t catch her.]

___

Chapter 16

AN: Content warning for self-shattering attempt. Part of the reason why I had to stop writing this story at the time. I considered pushing the plot another way, but it didn't feel authentic to how I believed this scenario would play out for Spinel when she didn't have a direct target for her anger. Without someone to actively be jealous and upset AT, I could only imagine her breaking inwards instead of outwards, feeling that she's utterly failed in her life's purpose. Nothing more than a description for this chapter... and it'd be a short one.

[When Stevonnie finds her, she’s smashing her fists against her gem in her sheer anguish. She’s already cracked it. She’s glitching. It looks terribly painful. She’s about to strike her gem again when Stevonnie intervenes.]

___

Chapter 17

[Post timely intervention. Spinel is still cracked at this moment, though... her form glitching as she cries.]

“I was... her best friend,” she cries, fat, glistening tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was supposed to make her happy! Why wasn’t she happy? Why didn’t she come back?“

[Spinel reasoning that maybe if Pink came back for her, she wouldn’t have been shattered in the first place]

“What did I do wrong?” she whispers hoarsely, gazing pleadingly into Stevonnie’s eyes. “Wha- what am I doing? Why do I wanna hurt myself so badly?”

“Shh, now,” they reply, tears of their own brimming at the crease of their eyes, and pull Spinel’s head to their chest. “I’ve got you...”

___

Chapter 18

They know their throat is tight, and their voice scratchy. They know they’ve never sung this song in front of another living being, since it’s something personal they composed alone on one of their late nights back on Earth, thinking about all the difficult days Steven and Connie have had to face over the months. Pair this with their active crying, and there’s no way their singing will be anything pretty.

But pretty doesn’t matter right now.

Stevonnie opens their lips, and— clutching the broken hearted Gem close, rhythmically rocking with her back and forth— lets the wandering melody emerge from within.

“I guess I have to face That in this awful place I shouldn’t show a trace Of doubt...”

“But pulled against the grain I feel a little pain That I would rather do Without...”

“I’d rather be Free, free Free...”

[Hoarse, Spinel starts singing with them.]

“I’d rather be Free, free Free...”

“Free, free Free...”

“From here...”

[Stevonnie holds her tight while crying, their tears healing it back up.]

___

Chapter 19

AN: Don't have anything but a single bit of dialogue in this chapter note- I'm assuming I intended it as being a good few hours after the events of chapters 16-18... when Spinel has calmed down a little and has a moment to reflect on the upsetting news she's just received.

“I think... I always knew,” she says, voice hoarse. “In a way. It was so obvious how she felt about me.

___

Chapter ?

AN: From here on out, the plot hasn't been split into individual chapters.

[At some point shortly after chapter 19, Lars and his crew locate Stevonnie in the garden, and pick them and Spinel up. The next few bits of dialogue and description takes place on the ship.]

Rutile twins: “I haven’t heard of Spinels being produced in over five millennia.” “Me neither!”

Rhodonite: “Yeah, I heard they stopped making them entirely after the rebellion on Pink’s colony.”

[A bit of overwhelming conversation later, no one really noticing Spinel's conflicted emotional response to so many Gems hovering around her at once.]

Padparadscha: “I predict that you’re both going to make Spinel feel very uncomfortable aboard this ship.”

Rhodonite: “I’m sorry, we don’t exactly meet new Gems every century.”

Rutile twins: “Yes!” “It’s just been us until we met our captain!”

Fluorite: “Our new huuuuman friend helped us escape the tunnels on Homeworld. Now... we’re slooowly making our way back... to Earth.”

Spinel: “Earth?? You’re going to Pink’s world? But why? I heard she... was shattered.”

___

[Spinel feeling a sense of kinship with the idea that there’s other Gems who didn’t serve their rightful purpose and are now escaping their life on Homeworld to be free of that. Because now, without her Diamond, since she was unable to keep her happy, she’s an Off Color too. She failed her given purpose same as them.]

[Discussion of Earth, and the rebellion, and how there’s Gems living free there. And how Pink’s colony was siphoning life away, and that’s what these Gems were fighting to protect. Stevonnie points out all the plants and wildlife that used to live in the garden, and asks her if she felt happier when it was around. Spinel says yes. Stevonnie says that this is what the Diamonds are destroying, with each lifeless colony they forge. Everywhere they go, dead wildlife lies in their wake.]

Spinel: “I... guess I never thought of it that way.”

[(Stevonnie adds...) And while they’re very sorry for the personal connection there, and can’t imagine how painful that must be, that’s why Pink Diamond was shattered.]

[Spinel is given an open choice... Lars gives the invitation to stay with him and the Off Colors, and Stevonnie offers for her to come with them back to Earth. It's not a hard decision for her in the end, though. She's always dreamed of seeing what was once Pink’s planet, ever since she heard the Diamonds bequeath it to her.]

___

Stevonnie: “Okay, so… before we go, I need to be honest with you about something." [deep breath] "I’m actually a fusion of two separate people who are close friends. You... know what fusion is, right?”

Spinel: “Duh, o’course! What, d’ya think I was made yesterday?”

[...]

Stevonnie: “But even with that, I can’t be together as me all the time. Steven and Connie, the two who come together to form me... they love hanging out with each other so much, but they also have their own lives! Other friends, other hobbies, their own families. They still talk when they’re apart, but they know it’s okay to do things alone, too. Do you know why I’m telling you this?”

Spinel: [shakes head no] “No...?”

Stevonnie: [sighs] “I understand you’ve been left behind. Believe me, I know how bad that feels. So the last thing I wanna do is make you think I’m doing that too.”

Spinel: “Y-you— you’re going away?” Stevonnie: “Unfusing, yes.” Spinel: “But Stevonnie, you—“ Stevonnie: “Spinel. No matter what, you are my friend. Steven and Connie consider you a friend, too. And my hope is that you’ll keep making a whole bunch more on Earth, so you’ll always have people around who know and love you. But that can’t always be me, okay?“

___

[At home... on Earth. There's a bit of a close call for Pearl when Spinel arrives, and recognizes her as Pink's second pearl. This is news for Garnet and Amethyst and Steven, the first of which had somewhat suspected that Pearl used to be in the diamonds' service, but never knew for sure. Pearl, of course... can't say much on this due to her gag order... not that anyone else knows about that yet... but does manage a very concise and PD=RQ free explanation about her past in Pink's court, and her transition towards being a Crystal Gem:]

Pearl: “Rose Quartz set me free, and I’ve been a part of the rebellion ever since.”

___

[At some point between the last scene and the next, mention how Spinel had a bit of a relapse... she ended up poofing herself, and reformed differently. A little bit closer to the smudged mascara and frayed pigtails look of canon, but no rotated heart. Unlike in canon, she has a solid support system amongst the Crystal Gems, and she's working hard to recover from the heartbreak of Pink's abandonment.]

___

[Final scene is set post A Single Pale Rose. Steven and Connie fuse, and Stevonnie goes to find Spinel to check in on how she's taking the news. The final line of the fic is as follows:]

Spinel: “I know you’re not her, not really. And I know you’ll always be a better person than she ever was. But in some silly cyclical way... back in that garden... it’s almost like Pink came back for me after all.”

[rainbowwritesthings]

I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight

Hughie reached up and felt the edge of the knife that was lodged in his ribs and could almost feel where the tip of the knife exited from his back. Butcher grabbed the hand that was fumbling with the knife handle and brought Hughie’s knuckles to his lips, “don’t worry bought that now.”

Hughie dies for awhile. Butcher freaks out. AO3

Soldier Boy stared Hughie down, somehow managing to exude disinterest while still maintaining an energy that spoke of impending bloodshed.

Hughie forced himself not to look around for Butcher, who had slipped away to try and track down the very Supe measuring the young man up.

“Where are your friends?”

The sudden baritone had Hughie jolting slightly and his usual instinct regarding a very powerful Supe asking questions rang true.

“Who?”

Butcher had made fun of Hughie countless times because of his ‘play dumb’ strategy, and the gruff man would always end the jab by saying it only made people more suspicious.

MM and Frenchie had made similar, less pointed comments about his lies under pressure, even Kimiko had once given him a look when Hughie dumbly asked, “who’s Hughie Campbell?” When someone was trying to intimidate him.

The heavy sound of boots walking towards him had Hughie’s heart beat harder, and he wished he could at least pretend to be brave while facing the first superhero.

This was Soldier Boy’s first meeting with any of the group and Hughie could understand why this was so disappointing for the man.

Soldier Boy stood in front of him and raised his eyebrows, “you’re really a member of The Boys? The group that kills Superheroes.”

Hughie blinked and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted when the man continued on.

“Your leader is former SAS and CIA. His right-hand man was a combat medic, left hand man was a gun-runner and chemist expert. Oh, and the other member is a trained Super terrorist.”

Hughie noticed the lack of mention for Starlight and hoped it meant that her spot on the Seven meant she was safe.

The Supe got even closer until they were just inches apart, “you used to upsell bullshit equipment for a Radio Shack. Why the fuck are you here?”

God Hughie wished he had a good answer to that, or at least the spine to say something cool like he knew Butcher would have.

“It’s a long story.”

This answer gained him a grunt and Soldier Boy stepped back, with no warning his fist shot out and Hughie fell to the ground. The Supe lowered down to straddle the man and Hughie tried desperately to get out from under him.

When two hands linked around his throat, Hughie froze and stared up.

“I could snap your neck and there’d be nothing you could do to stop me.”

Hughie was already well aware of this fact, and somehow being in such a powerless position eased the panic welling inside of him. As Soldier Boy’s grip around his throat tightened, Hughie grabbed his knife.

The first knife that Butcher had gifted him in the guise of safety, the one Hughie kept with him at all times since receiving it. He used it to stab the Supe in the arm, and Soldier Boy didn’t so much as flinch as he shifted to hold Hughie down with one hand.

The other hand reached up to yank out the knife, he examined the knife and looked down at Hughie.

“Maybe you aren’t as balless as I thought.”

Hughie sucked in air and heard heavy footfalls closing into to him. Butcher finally arrived with stomping feet and a shout, “Oi, cunt!” As Butcher shot at the Supe, Soldier Boy only looked up at him as a courtesy.

“Finally, a true member of the team.”

With a cold smile the Supe maintained eye contact with Butcher and rammed the knife through Hughie’s chest. Hughie couldn’t help but scream when the knife ripped through his lung, cartilage, and bones, and after it was in he weakly grasped at his chest.

When Hughie grasped about the area he could only feel the tip of the handle sticking out, the rest of the blade and handle was buried firmly in his lung and ribcage.

Butcher let out a roar and the rest of clip was unloaded into the Supe, Soldier Boy merely stood up casually over Hughie and wipe his bloody hand on his pants uniform.

Burcher was still holding an empty gun to the Supers face, seething with unbridled rage.

“I’ll kill every fuckin’ one of ya’!” For once an emotion other than boredom crossed Soldier Boy’s face, but Hughie’s vision was too blurry to make out what expression it was exactly, but it looked almost like surprise.

Black filled the whole of his vision and peace was momentarily granted, until strong hands were firmly shaking his shoulders and a voice was ringing in his ears.

Butcher came into a blurry world view that slowly cleared until all Hughie could see was Billy, cradling him in his arms with a desperate expression.

“Hold on now Hughie. Others are on their way, gonna get you all patched up.”

That was the most blatant lie Butcher had ever told him, even if MM rolled in right now with a squad of trained medics it wouldn’t matter.

Hughie could almost feel where the tip of the knife exited from his back and reached up to the area once again.

Butcher grabbed the hand that was fumbling around the knife handle and brought Hughie’s knuckles to his lips, “don’t worry bought’ that now.”

Hughie tried to focus on the man, truly he did, but he was also trying to gather air into his lungs. He was drowning in himself, there was no other way to describe it.

Butcher seemed to pick up on his gasping for air and with a gentle warning, lifted Hughie so he was braced on his lap.

Slightly more upright Hughie coughed up a spray of blood, coating both Butcher and Hughie. It was still hard to breathe, he could feel the blood pulling in his chest and congealing in his throat.

“Breathe darlin’, just breathe.”

At the command Hughie drew in a wet breath and immediately coughed harder, “Butch-“

“Shh, save your breath luv.”

A calloused hand ran through his hair before cupping his cheek, “you’ll be fine, made of strong stuff you are. This ain’t nothin’ compared to what you been through.”

Hughie’s vision cleared enough to see Butcher, more distraught than he had ever seen him before which lead to a new resolve.

“Listen-please listen to me.”

It was odd how exhausting that simple sentence was and the dawning comprehension that he was dying finally beginning to hit him. This understanding must have shown on his face because Butcher placed more pressure on the wound with a feral look in his eyes.

“You’re gonna be fine, ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to ya.”

Holy shit, Billy Butcher was in complete denial about what was happening.

“Billy. I love you. Please don’t-“

More burning pain had Hughie wheezing past the blood, clutching Butcher’s hand in a vice grip. When the burn ebbed, he blinked past the black spots.

“Don’t give up.”

While the man knew he was in no way comparable to Becca, his death wouldn’t leave a gaping wound in Butchers heart like hers had, he also admitted that he was important to Butcher in a different way.

Hopefully someone else would fill his place as both a member, as well as someone to stand beside Butcher. Someone who could shine a light in the dark but was still resilient enough to stand against the Supes without fear.

He must have blacked out again because when he was blinking through the tunnel around his eyes he could hear Butcher whispering, it almost sounded like a prayer.

“You can’t give me a light in the fuckin’ cave just to take it away, not like this. Not him, please, anyone other than him.”

Hughie could hear a harsh wheezing and it took a moment to realize it was coming from him, distantly he could feel the pressure Butcher was keeping on the wound and the feel of Butchers face buried in Hughie’s hair.

He tried to swallow the thick metallic in his throat but ended up painfully coughing instead of forcing it down. Somehow coughing around the thick paste painting his insides hurt so much worse that the actual stab wound did.

Though now that he thought about it, he could still feel the knife stuck between his ribs, moving around and tearing something else up every time he tried to breathe to deeply.

God, there was so much more Hughie wanted to say to Butcher. He wanted to comfort the man who had already been through so much and let him know that whatever he found so special in Hughie could be found in someone else at least ten fold.

Hughie could hear the rest of the Boys arrive, not able to determine who was who when they filtered in but with sudden resolve he forced himself to focus.

“I-I can’t do anything about this man.”

He could hear MM distantly, as if his ears were packed full of wool, but despite how far away the voice was he could hear the pain laced in every word. Hughie felt cold in a way he hadn’t felt before, this wasn’t like a sudden cold snap that struck before you before the space heater was ready, instead it went deeper and curved around his bones, his very soul even.

He was also thirsty, despite how thick the blood coated his throat he still wanted something, anything, to quench his thirst. He could hear another voice, muffled as it was, and was able to determine it was Frenchie.

The only thing keeping him from floating away growled and Hughie forcibly peeled back the weights holding his eyelids closed. Everything was tilted on it’s side and he could barely see past the tunnel around his vision.

Billy’s face slowly came into focus and when he saw Hughie looking up at him, he gave a terrible smile. Not the one that promised impending bloodshed or illegal activities, but a new one entirely.

It took a while but Hughie was able to focus on MM next, the man looked as if he had been the one stabbed and gave the younger man a reassuring smile that contrasted with every other body signal he was giving Hughie.

Frenchie was rubbing the back of his head and pacing, but when he saw Hughie’s eyes on him he stopped and stooped down.

“Petit Hughie.”

He gave the dying man a shaky smile, and Hughie gave him a weak smile back. At this Frenchie looked around and sniffled slightly before getting up to pace around more.

Hughie looked at Kimiko and was shocked to see tears gathered around her eyes, her gaze was locked into his chest and the barest hint of the hilt that was visible sticking out of his chest. She was breathing deeply and Hughie knew she was visualizing taking the knife that killed him and slitting Soldier Boys throat with it.

Which led to Hughie imagining what the group would do next.

Butcher would go on a complete warpath, maybe even worse than it had been before. Homelander would always be the first mark, but now Soldier Boy would be directly under that name.

God Hughie hoped that Frenchie and mainly MM could keep Butcher, and maybe Kimiko, from trying to fight Soldier Boy without a plan.

There was no reason for all of them to crumble under one Supes hand over him, though honestly Hughie reasoned that none of them were that foolhardy to try and rush towards revenge before he had started to decompose.

Well if anything else, Annie could always get them to at least consider reason if their vision became clouded. He could hear Butcher above him and forced himself to focus.

“Please luv, you can't leave me. I love you Hughie, fuckin’ hell I love you.”

Hughie wanted to say that he loved him just as much, that Butcher was never what he expected from a partner but he didn’t regret the decision to join him even if this was the result.

“B-billy, thank you.”

For everything, all the terrible gory bits and the sweet moments that made life feel worth living. An ironic sentiment considering how close death was breathing down his neck right now.

Hughie hoped that when they broke the news to his father, they would lie and say it was instant. That there was no pain, no Hughie wheezing around his own blood.

Fuck he was really going to die, wasn’t he?

Hughie vomited up more burning blood as Butcher tried to sooth him and try as he might the numbness filled him completely. Swallowing Hughie whole in a dark embrace, free of pain and worry.

-- 

Hughie felt the world come into view in pieces. First there was a searing burn surrounding his very existence, threatening to burn him alive. Then the burn centered on his chest, and the only instinct Hughie had was to try and expel it.

He felt hands shifting him around, pulling him in different ways so that he could vomit the substance easier. Every time Hughie felt like he could take a breath a new wave of fire would hit.

Several objects that were suspiciously hard found their way trapped in his throat; he wasn’t sure who dug around his mouth to fish them out but Hughie owed his life to whoever did so.

Finally, when all the congealed blood and bits of bone had been expelled Hughie could take in full breaths instead of the chocked gasps he had been using before.

He vowed to never take his lungs and the beautiful feeling of filling them with air for granted. With uncoordinated blinks the world started to slide in place around him.

MM was smiling down at him and that answered the question of who was keeping him upright, “holy fuck man.”

Frenchie lunged forward to kiss both of his cheeks, speaking quickly in his own language. He got the sense that Frenchie was putting to words the pure relief that shone through his face.

Kimiko was practically beaming at him; she was signing to him and Hughie knew that he should recognize what she was saying but couldn’t focus long enough to create a translation. However he didn’t need to know exactly what she was saying, the meaning was clear when she was smiling so openly at him.

Past her Butcher was staring at him, completely still except for the way his chest was heaving. His expression was of blatant horror mixed with large dose of disgust, he wasn’t looking at Hughie’s face and if his jaw clenched any harder his teeth may be in danger.

That was what splashed Hughie in a new wave of panic.

“I died.”

Saying the words out loud sparked Hughie into moving, jerking around and clawing at his chest.

“I fucking died! What the fuck?!”

MM was trying to calm him down, gently holding his wrist when Hughie began to scratch at his throat.

“Oh god, oh my god. I was- I!”

His eyes darted around to the others, trying to get them to understand.

Kimiko had a look of understanding that he hadn’t seen from her before and Frenchie was leaving to grab something from the front of the van.

Throughout all of this Butcher hadn’t moved, though his face hardened as he watched Hughie thrash weakly in MM’s hold.

Butcher, who hated Supes of any kind, who still didn’t trust Kimiko or want anything to do with her despite her status as a firm member of the group. He tolerated her because she was useful, a good fighter as well as a good shot.

Hughie wasn’t either of those things, and as such wasn’t needed like she was.

“You’re going to kill me.”

Hughie’s voice shook with the statement, there was little doubt in his mind what Butcher was really thinking when he eyed to closed chest wound. Frenchie moved in front of him, brandishing a needle.

“Petit Hughie, this is going to help you to relax. Do not worry mon amie, it will be alright.”

Hughie thrashed about and the man knew he was babbling, begging the others for so many things but he couldn’t hear his own words.

Would he go in a cage until they decided what to do?

Small but strong hands held his legs down and Hughie felt the prick of the needle going in. His vision blurred almost immediately after, and finally he felt someone push his hair from his face.

[houseofzoey]

Characters

Zoey Zoey’s role in this book was minimal. She spent the first half of the book on the Isle of Skye, deliberately avoiding returning to Tulsa because she didn’t want to deal with Neferet and the fight against Darkness (also school, which is pretty stupid given how irrelevant her classes have been for most of the series). This could have been a great chance to show how burdened Zoey is, how complicated and frightening her responsibilities are and how ill-prepared she feels to deal with them, but the author never deals with it in a meaningful way.

First, Zoey has never really done much of anything in this series. She’s an extremely passive character who desperately lacks agency and only acts because the plot (or Nyx) forces her to. For her to complain about being stressed and needing a break feels bratty and disingenuous. Moreover, she does a really terrible job of giving any consideration toward the consequences of taking a break. She knows that her role is pivotal to stopping Kalona – she knows that her not being around means Kalona and Neferet win. Aphrodite has had multiple visions to this effect. But Zoey never once thinks about this, nor does she think about what it means to leave her friends to deal with Neferet and Kalona and Darkness in general. She literally only thinks about how this situation affects her. That’s not the perspective of a stressed and overworked leader; that’s the attitude of a spoiled brat who doesn’t care about anyone but herself.

She doesn’t grow or mature or come to any important realizations while she’s hiding on the Isle of Skye, though I get the sense that P.C. Cast did intend for something to that affect. Zoey was meant to be scared and tired and in need of a break, but eventually had to come to terms with the fact that she can’t hide in paradise forever and needs to go back to her old life. But she doesn’t. There’s no self-reflection. There’s no sense of change in her attitude or behaviour. She literally only returns to Tulsa because Jack died and she needs to attend (and lead) a funeral.

Moreover, P.C. Cast perfectly arranges the plot so that Jack’s death never interferes with all the magical frolicking and specialness that Zoey gets basked in on Skye. She’s able to learn about Old Magick and dance with sprites at her leisure, explore the sexual side of her relationship with Stark without urgency or interruption (we’ll get to that), and just generally have a completely worry-free vacation. Like, the fate of her friends and the fight against Neferet/Darkness is barely on her mind unless it’s specifically brought up. She even gets the pleasure of being praised for her specialness and bowed to by a queen.

Zoey’s relationship with Stark takes an important step in this book, what with them having sex for the first time, but the whole thing is handled so poorly. For one thing, Zoey regards having sex as meaning she’s in a “Real Relationship” now, which is a super unhealthy perspective to encourage teens to have toward sex. Someone having sex with you does not mean they are in love with you and it’s a serious relationship, and presenting it in this way opens up the possibility for very dangerous, harmful manipulation. Moreover, Zoey and Stark make a big deal about tying their wishes for their future to the Hanging Tree and swearing to be together forever – even though, out of text, P.C. Cast has said multiple times that she thinks it’s stupid when readers get worked up over Zoey having multiple partners because she’s too young to settle into a long-term commitment. So why the hell is she forming permanent soul bonds and making life-long promises to Stark?

Zoey’s only contribution to the actual plot is to lead a funeral rite. Which she immediately screws up by calling Jack by the wrong name, something that no one ever points out or corrects. This means that not only did P.C. Cast forget and not double-check Jack’s name, but Kristin didn’t pick up on this error, and neither did their official editor. Not one single person in this entire process realized Zoey was saying the wrong name, even though Jack was explicitly named after a character from Brokeback Mountain and his name should have been very easy to remember.

Well, Zoey did sort of have one other contribution to this plot. She used her new title as queen! And it was infuriating! See, because Zoey is queen, she’s able to supersede the need for High Council approval to open a new House of Night, allowing her and her friends to go start a new HoN in the tunnels away from Neferet. But they don’t actually start a HoN because they don’t have any classes and just… declare that they’re going to be bussed to and from the tunnels every night. So, essentially, Zoey uses her new title of queen to force Neferet to let her set up her own private dorm just for her and her friends.

Also, Zoey got a seer stone from Sgiach and does absolutely nothing with it during this book, even though it maybe would have actually been helpful for revealing the Darkness around Neferet. But I don’t actually know for sure, because its not especially clear what a seer stone does or what Old Magick actually is.

Stevie Rae In Burned, Stevie Rae spent much of the book being stressed and confused about her secret sort-of-romance with Rephaim, while also nominally acting as a stand-in High Priestess in Zoey’s absence and only just barely doing anything about the murderous rogue fledglings.

In this book, Stevie Rae… spends most of her time being stressed and confused about her secret sort-of-romance with Rephaim, while also nominally acting as a stand-in High Priestess in Zoey’s absence and being weirdly resistant to all attempts to actually get Zoey to return to Tulsa.

The worst part about her role in these two books being basically the exact same is that it really shouldn’t be. At the end of Burned, Stevie Rae and Rephaim parted ways because Kalona’s soul had returned to his body and Rephaim made it clear that he wouldn’t be able to stand against his father. There’s some discussion of this at the beginning of the book, with them being upset about being apart for an indeterminate period of time (the length of the timeskip is really unclear). It’s resolved pretty quickly and anticlimactically, though. Jack dies, Rephaim shows up, Stevie Rae sees him and there’s a tense moment. Then Stevie Rae calls him to her because she wants him to tell her what he knows about what happened to Jack – and, of course, they immediately return to the way they were before.

But this is also exactly what happened in the previous book! Stevie Rae was all determined that she was going to get information from Rephaim no matter what, that she would fight him if she had to regardless of their Imprint, and then… she didn’t. And the exact same thing happened in this book. This isn’t a parallel. This isn’t a callback. It’s just the author dragging out and regurgitating the same plotline.

Rephaim is such a defining part of Stevie Rae’s story that it even takes over her conversation with her mom. Stevie Rae hasn’t seen or spoken to her mom in about two months, and up until this scene Stevie Rae’s mom believed her daughter was dead. But this scene barely focuses on that. Instead, they sit and talk about Rephaim, what he means to Stevie Rae, what she needs to do about the secrets she’s keeping and the lies she’s been telling her friends.

That’s not good storytelling. That’s not building strong, complex female characters. Stevie Rae’s entire plotline is about Rephaim – and it has been since she got her own arc. From the very first chapter we got from Stevie Rae’s perspective, Rephaim became the central focus.

There’s some lip-service paid to her being uncertain in her role as High Priestess, but literally that’s it. It’s brought up once during a confrontation with Neferet and promptly forgotten. This should be a much bigger focus in Stevie Rae’s story. Being a High Priestess, especially a High Priestess of a whole new type of vampyre, is a huge responsibility and has enormous implications for her future. Figuring out what it means to be a High Priestess, what kind of leader she wants to be, what she wants red fledglings and vampyres’ place in broader society to look like – these should be the things that define Stevie Rae’s journey. Her love life should be a subplot, and it should underscore and entwine with the stress and confusion of trying to lead this new society into an uncertain future.

But that’s not what we get. Rephaim is the focus and everything else is background decoration.

Also, for some reason Stevie Rae can’t manage to use her affinity for anything tangible and instead just summons green glows around herself that vanish the instant she loses concentration. Because she is smart and powerful!

The Twins Continue to exist less and less in this series. We enjoyed 159 pages without either of them having a single line of dialogue.

Damien and Jack Jack finally gets a role in the plot! But not, like, a character arc or place in the story that involves any sort of agency. No, Jack gets to be colossally stupid and conveniently isolated so that Neferet can show up and murder him while making it look like an accident. This is because he is pure. Again, this has nothing to do with his choices or his actions or anything involving his agency. Neferet determines that he is pure and wholly untainted by Darkness, and that’s what she needs for a sacrifice.

This is only made worse by how Jack responds to being killed. It’s right before lunch time on campus. He could easily scream and yell and call for help. He could try to use his affinity that was discovered in Tempted and was promptly never explored! For all we know, an affinity for technology means he has technopathy. But no. Instead, Jack sings himself out with a song that the author clearly chose to match his death scene and not because it made any sense for the Celebration Ritual he was supposed to be preparing for.

And then, once he’s dead? He’s not allowed to be angry! He’s not allowed to grieve the life he lost and the people he left behind! Nope. Instead, he’s eternally happy and joyful with Nyx. Because he’s so pure, you guys! Isn’t it great that he’s pure? Isn’t it fine that he died if he’s happy?

This is the most infuriating and needless death scene in the series thus far.

All of this also means that Damien gets to feature more prominently compared to other recent installations in the series. He, however, doesn’t really do anything. He just mourns. Which makes sense – his boyfriend just died – but the way other characters respond to it is really telling. First, everyone acts like Jack was Damien’s life partner and this death is comparable to Dragon’s loss of Anastasia. But Damien and Jack have been dating for about two months. That’s it. And yet, at the same time, everyone is panicked that Damien has been crying for hours and can’t sleep and isn’t getting better. This book ends maybe a full day after Jack’s death. Damien has every reason to still be deeply in mourning! It makes absolutely no sense for his friends to already be telling him he needs to move on!

Otherwise, Jack and Damien really don’t have much role in this book other than to be the butt of Aphrodite’s frequent homophobic jokes, as well as a few homophobic comments from Kramisha.

Stark Stark’s role in this series is similar to Zoey’s. They hide out on the Isle of Skye for a while. They have sex. That’s mostly it.

I mean, I guess he has a couple other things going on. Kalona has started entering into the sliver of soul he gave him and taking control, but not much comes of it other than some extremely uncomfortable scenes that ultimately have no long-term impact on this book. It’s setup for the next book, I guess, but it involves no agency on Stark’s part. That’s Kalona’s subplot, not his.

Stark’s actual point of growth in this book is about embracing his affinity and taking up his bow again instead of letting fear of his Dark side and past mistakes rule him. It’s a nice bit of growth, in theory, but in practice it makes absolutely no sense. Stark has never really refused his affinity. Even when he was first introduced and firmly stated to Neferet that he no longer practices archery, he was practicing against targets pretty soon after. In Tempted, after he broke free of Darkness and swore himself to Zoey in Hunted, Stark continued using his bow without hesitation to protect Zoey. The only reason he didn’t use it in Burned is because he wasn’t in a combat situation until he reached the Otherworld, at which point he was forced to use a Guardian claymore. So… Stark only refused to use his bow in this book, and that could only have lasted a day because he was resting in bed the whole time before this.

Kalona In this book, Kalona was dealing with the ramifications of failing to kill Zoey in the Otherworld and thus becoming Neferet’s slave, basically, because of the Oath he swore to her. His goal now is to escape from her dominion. This is emphasized a lot – and it turns out to all be entirely pointless, because he was never actually under her dominion in the first place. By giving a piece of his soul to Stark when he was in the Otherworld, he negated the terms of the Oath.

But we still have to read through all the idiocy and creepiness before this is revealed.

First, the narrative puts in a lot of effort trying to make us feel bad for Kalona and his position under Neferet’s control. Neferet is described with very creepy, predatory, and sex shaming language. Kalona expresses disgust at the thought of her touching him. Clearly, we’re supposed to regard him as a victim here.

But… Look, I know I keep bringing this up, but it’s so important. Kalona is a serial rapist! You can’t brush over that. You can’t take a serial rapist and make me feel sympathetic to them because they feel violated by the person they basically promised their soul to if they failed in a mission.

I mean, there’s a way this could have been handled to actually work toward Kalona’s redemption, but the author is so clueless about writing proper redemption arcs. Kalona’s situation could have been a moment of realization for him. He could have had an epiphany – he could have realized that the way he feels about Neferet’s treatment of him is probably akin to how his victims felt when he first came to Earth. This could have been a moment of him humanizing his victims and feeling remorse for the atrocities he committed against them.

But no. Instead, the authors make it even harder to sympathize with him by having him fantasize about how, when he frees himself of Neferet’s control, he’s going to enslave her.

Then we get into the discovery that he can enter and control Stark through the sliver of soul he gave him. And it’s creepy – but, like, the scene from his perspective is written in such a way that it seems like it’s supposed to be… sympathetic? There’s so much emphasis on how shocked and overjoyed he is to find himself in bed with Zoey, and the language and framing of the scene doesn’t present it as creepy or predatory – not compared to how overtly the language around Neferet’s behaviour shows her as predatory. It’s extremely uncomfortable, specifically because it’s clear that it isn’t supposed to be uncomfortable.

Anyway, Kalona figures out he isn’t actually under Neferet’s control and he and Rephaim decide to test this theory by actively disobeying her during the funeral rite at the House of Night. This is a big part of the climax, and Kalona explicitly kills multiple Sons of Erebus Warriors. It remains to be seen if this will be addressed in any future books. More importantly, Kalona agrees to let Rephaim be free, which is meant to be a huge move toward his redemption. There’s even a WHITE FEATHER!!1! But as far as narrative and his actual character arc goes… This isn’t a redemption moment. Kalona’s villainy was never connected to who he is as a father – it’s about the atrocities he committed against the Cherokee, especially Cherokee women. It isn’t not good that he let Rephaim be free, and he wasn’t a great father, but this shouldn’t be a core moment in his redemption. Being controlled by Neferet (or at least believing he was controlled by her) would have made way more sense to this end.

Aphrodite Aphrodite didn’t really do anything in this book. She made a bunch of homophobic jokes at Jack and Damien’s expense, and she was portrayed as mean and unfair for calling out Zoey for avoiding her responsibilities. She’s also the one who pushes for Zoey to be told about Jack’s death ASAP so she can get back to Tulsa and help them deal with Neferet.

Otherwise? Aphrodite just spends the book being abrasive and unpleasant. Its kind of disappointing, considering she used to be a character with actual agency.

Neferet Neferet’s nefarious plan this book is to do… something. It was explained and it kind of made sense, but I’m just getting so tired of everything being so convoluted and inconsistent. Why does she still care about Zoey? Why doesn’t she just carry on, working the High Council until they give her the position she wants, and then seizing control of vampyre society to start the war she’s always wanted? It’s not like Zoey is an active threat, particularly not at the beginning of this book. I mean, Zoey was in hiding for weeks. Neferet could have done plenty in that time and no one would have been there to stop her.

Even if Neferet feels it’s more important to get Zoey out the way first instead of pursuing her earlier plans, why doesn’t she just… do that? Neferet has used Darkness to kill before without the crime being connected back to her. She does it in this book. She could have done it against Zoey and framed someone else for it. Hell, she could have killed Zoey, framed Stevie Rae for it, and then gotten her war started with the red fledglings just like she and Kalona discussed. Point is, it doesn’t make sense that her plan is so convoluted and involves doing so much but so little at the same time.

It makes even less sense when you get to the end of the book. She’s spent weeks doing nothing, patiently biding her time, playing a careful chess match to get Zoey in the right place so Neferet can trick her into allowing her to reclaim her position of power at the House of Night. But then we get to the end of the book and the white bull offers her a Vessel in exchange for the right sacrifice, and suddenly Neferet is impatient and impulsive. She knows Grandma Redbird is the perfect sacrifice and that Linda is extremely flawed, but she chooses to use Linda to create her Vessel instead of waiting a few hours for Grandma. It makes no sense. She’s sabotaging herself and she knows it. WHY?

Her characterization is also all over the place and deeply stigmatizing of mental illness, so that’s fun.

Nyx

Why didn’t she tell everyone at the funeral that Neferet was responsible for Jack’s death and had allied herself with Darkness? Or at the very least confirm for everyone that Neferet has turned from her path and is no longer listening to the goddess?

Jack feels that he needs to be out by that tree preparing for the Celebration Ritual even though it’s been postponed, the implication being that his intuition (Nyx) is telling him something important is going to happen. The important thing that happens is his murder. Why would Nyx insist that he has to stay right where he is so he can go ahead and die?! Why wouldn’t she send him a gut feeling to warn him to leave?

Why did Nyx appear to Rephaim as a ghost and sway his decisions so directly? She refuses to intervene in this way with anyone else because of her thing with free will.

What the hell was the deal with Rephaim’s punishment? Nyx knows that Rephaim has murdered and raped and committed horrible atrocities for centuries. She knows that he has a romantic relationship with Stevie Rae, who is nocturnal and dies in sunlight. So why is her idea of punishment to turn him into a raven during the day and allow him to be fully human at night? That barely affects him! The only time he spends as a raven is time he would be asleep anyway.

[triforceangel13]

The Next Life is Here Ch. 1 (An AkuRoku and Soriku Mini Series)

Ch. 1 Burning to Tell you

The battle was over. It was all over. The darkness was beaten and they could finally start their own lives and not have any secondary agendas.

They could live the lives they were meant to have.

A fire crackled before Roxas, offering warmth on the chilly beach he and all his companions sat upon. No one knew what time it was, all they knew was that it was at some point during the night. They had been out there for hours since they had gotten back to Destiny Island, celebrating their victory and their reuniting of everyone who they thought they lost forever.

Roxas wasn't sure if this would be his new home or if he would be going back to Twilight Town. All he knew was that he wanted to follow Axel.

He  let out a sigh as he sat in the sand, leaning his hands back and digging them in. The wind blew against his face, relaxing him for the first time in a long while.

He had missed this. The feeling of the wind against his skin, the warmth of the sun. There was only so much he could experience through the eyes of Sora.

But thanks to him as well as several others he was able to have his own body once more. He didn't have to be a part of anyone.

Xion was asleep next to him, her head resting on his knee. The others sat around the fire, some sleeping, some looking as if lost in thought.

Sora sat next to Riku, his hand buried in the larger man's grasp as a heavy flush sat across his cheeks. Roxas knew of Sora's feelings for Riku. He had been a part of his heart for a while so he could see everything he had felt.

Many had thought he would end up with Kairi but deep down Sora was in love with Riku. It was nice to see that now that their troubles were over they could finally be with one another.

Though that had Roxas thinking about his own situation with a particular redhead. Seeing him again back at the Keyblade Graveyard had stirred up so many feelings he had thought he would never experience again.

He had been tempted to just run to him and kiss him, happy to be back by his side and finally in his arms. But he had refrained. Not only was Xion with them and he hadn't wanted to make things awkward, but they were also in the middle of a battle.

He also watched Axel hold Isa in his arms as his Nobody passed on. He was pretty sure he saw lingering feelings there between the two.

Then Isa had shown up back at the clock tower.

Xion knew that Roxas had loved Axel. On the way to Destiny Islands she had even asked why he hadn't taken the chance to tell him how he felt.

He still really didn't have an answer. Any “excuse” he would come up with he knew his best friend would just take it down to make sure he got to do it. That was just how Xion was.

Axel shifted from the other side of the fire over to him, taking a seat next to him with a plate of coked food he had just made over the fire.

“Hungry?” he asked, offering some to the blonde next to him. Roxas plucked a piece of fish off of the plate and nibbled on it.

“Can't get enough of the fire still huh?' Roxas asked between bites. “Can you still use it like you used to be able to?”

“Nah. I lost that when I re completed. Still enjoy being around it though,” Axel said with a shrug, setting the plate down on his lap.

Roxas laughed softly, finishing the piece of fish and leaning back again as he looked across at the other trio. Terra sat in the middle, lost in thought as he gazed into the fire, Aqua and Ventus resting their heads on his shoulders, sleeping away just like Xion.

“So...you never really told me what your thoughts were on pretty much being Ventus' twin,” Axel said softly to him, having followed Roxas' gaze to the others around the fire.

“Not quite a nice way to put it,” Isa said, snatching up some food from the plate and taking a seat between Roxas and Axel.

“Well it sounds better than just asking him how he felt being the nobody of two people,” Axel sighed to his old friend, shoving the blue haired male with a smirk.

“It's fine Lea-”

“Axel,” the redhead replied, poking his own temple as a symbol of the phrase he always said. Roxas couldn't help but flush a bit. The man still had this affect on him.

“Axel,” Roxas corrected himself. “It doesn't matter to me which other way you say it. As long as people treat me as my own person I don't really mind.”

“How would anyone not treat you as your own person?” he asked. Roxas shrugged. He had been nervous about that but he knew that everyone that knew would was more than willing to do so. Heck they would do the same thing for Namine and Xion as well as they really had been in the same boat he was.

There was silence between all of them. The only talk he and Axel had was explaining his connection to Ventus and everything that had happened in between then and back when he had rejoined Sora. There was still many things left up in the air.

How Axel had come back, how he had gained a keyblade. Those were just the tip of the iceberg.

He had missed quite a bit. He could only see what Sora saw so he really was in the dark just as much as his brunette somebody.

He and Axel hadn't really made up from what had happened in the past. The last he had physically seen him he had fought. Then he had watched him sacrifice himself to keep Sora safe.

Then there was also the underlying feelings that Roxas had for Axel.

But one thing that had happened was they both promised to meet in the next life, and here they were, together...with Isa between them.

He had promised himself that if he ever got his own body and they got out of that hairy mess he would confess. But now seeing the things between Axel and Isa just pushed him back even further. How could he even compete with that?

Now that the moment was here he wasn't sure how to say what it was that he was feeling. He wasn't even sure who he could talk to for advice aside from Xion and he already knew what she was going to say to him.

He let out a sigh as he watched Axel, his eyes scanning over his face, his strong jaw, those green eyes...

Though quickly his eyes shifted to Isa, the taller man watching him with a cocked brow. A smirk slipped across his face then, his hand reaching for more of the plate between them and brushing Axel's leg in the process.

Roxas bristled, anger swelling. Isa knew of his feelings and he was making sure he saw the sights between them.

Anger swam within him and he had to force himself from smacking that terrible smirk right off of his face.

“I'm going to bed,” Roxas said, bending over and shaking Xion a bit. He helped her to her feet and walked his sleepy friend to the tent they were going to share together that they had set up not too long ago.

“Rox?” Axel asked but the blonde was already gone. Was something wrong? He could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves yet he didn't say anything.

*

No matter how hard he tried Roxas just couldn't get to sleep. He had heard everyone go to bed, even hearing Axel offering his tent to Isa.

That didn't help what was going on in his head either.

“This isn't going to work,” Roxas mumbled to himself, slipping out of the tent and keeping it quiet so he didn't wake Xion.

The Island was dark around them save for the moon that rose up high, the fire having been out for quite a while.

The tents were all still except for the one Riku and Sora had been sharing. The flap was open showing that they weren't there, probably together somewhere on the island.

His blue gazed look to Axel's tent, quickly forcing himself to look away as he walked past it, heading towards the foliage tunnel that would bring him to the back of the island, having remembered it from Sora's memories.

He was alone and here he could just relax and let his thoughts wander. If he was lucky maybe he would be able to get himself tired enough to go to sleep.

He settled in the sand close to the water, but far enough to stay dry. He tugged his shoes off and dipped his feet into the sand, the cool feeling releasing some stress from his body.

It was peaceful and it felt nice to enjoy this once more. He  let the breeze relax him, the sound of the waves making the area just...calm.

“Hey,” came a voice from behind him. Roxas nearly jumped out of his skin, looking to the culprit who had scared the crap out of him.

Axel.

“What are you doing up?” Roxas asked as the redhead took a seat next to him, propping his arm on his leg.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Axel offered with a chuckle. “I got up to get a drink and I saw you walking this way. Can't sleep?”

“Not at all,” Roxas sighed, pulling his knees closer to his chest where he held them with his arms. “I've got a lot on my mind right now.”

“Wanna talk it out? Maybe I can help?”

Roxas tensed next to him, trying his best to not let him know. But Axel caught on. Something was seriously bothering Roxas.

“No, it's okay,” Roxas lied, digging his feet in deeper into the sand.

A warm hand rest around his shoulders.

“Rox, I know things were left rocky between us but...just know you can always talk to me about anything. I'm here to help. No more lies.”

That only made Roxas more tense. Axel was wiling to talk to him but how did you talk to someone that you held such feelings for that probably was in love with someone else?

“I just...like someone...a lot. You could say even love,” Roxas admitted. “I promised myself that if I ever saw them again I would tell them...but it looks like they are in love with someone else and its killing me to see them now.”

Axel was quiet next to him and rubbed his shoulder.

“I'm sure she loves you Roxas. You just need to tell her how you feel,” Axel replied, though was that a tone of sadness in his voice. “And if she breaks your heart you won't be alone forever. You'll find someone.”

“She? Who are you talking about?”

“Xion of course. You're in love with her.”

“No Axe...it's not her.”

“Well who then?”

Roxas shook his head, squeezing his knees tighter. The hand on his shoulder felt amazing and warm. What he wouldn't give to just lean into him...

A silence fell between the two of them, the only sound of the waves crashing nearby. Axel's arm stayed firm around him, sending Roxas' mind into a tizzy.

If Axel was with Isa, why was he with him? Sure he was his best friend but even so he felt different about it.

“What about you?” Roxas asked to get the heat off of him. “You and Isa picking up where you had left off?”

Axel paused a moment and then suddenly burst out into laughing, falling back into the sand in a throw of giggles.

“What? Was it something I said?” Roxas asked confused. That look he had seen before at the camp site. Wasn't that...?

“Isa? Really?” Axel laughed as he finally caught his breath. “No way. I don't like him anymore than a friend.”

“Then what was with him touching you in a weird way before?”

“That, that's just Isa messing around. Quite honestly I've had my eye on someone for a long time.”

Roxas seemed to wilt a bit and looked back at the waves.

“Really? Who?”

Axel rolled his eyes at him and quickly grabbed his arm, tugging him down to him.

Roxas landed on top of his chest with a flush, gazing down at the man. Axel's hands rest on his cheeks, holding him in place.

“You're stupid,” Axel said, pulling him down to his lips and kissing him deeply. Roxas was frozen against him, his thoughts halting in his head.

Axel wanted to be with him? And he wanted to be with Axel.

The hand sliding down his back had him reacting quickly. He kissed him back with just as much passion as he could.

The heat from his body set a fire deep in Roxas' gut. How long he had wanted to kiss him and now here Axel was taking the first move.

Roxas pulled away to gain some air, looking down at the smirk that Axel had splayed across is face.

“Love me?” Axel asked seriously. Roxas playfully punched his arm.

“I love you.

“Good,” Axel responded, pulling Roxas down for another kiss.

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[feywildatheart]

Nenîth,

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking Shadowfell aberrations, of all things.

You're going to be alarmed, and I'm sorry, but-- my head's all in a tumble right now. I don't know how to be better at this. Cloudleaper almost died, and Elyn almost died twice, and we're fine now but it was a lot closer than we've had to face in a while and I hate it.

We started the morning with the sounds of our LICDs going off as we all, I think, received letters that none of us were terribly pleased to receive. If this is Cernunnos's way of granting prayers, I think I'd rather go back to keeping quiet. Or I would, except I've been asking him to keep you both safe, and I'd hate for him to decide that I don't want that anymore. Especially if this is the sort of thing he does when he's trying to be helpful.

I don't know what sort of letters Elyn or Cloudleaper received, but mine was from Pika, saying... I don't know, that Cloudleaper thinks we're friends? What sort of a friend lies to you all the time? What sort of a friend gets so angry and fed-up that they only way they can think to express their displeasure is to threaten violence?

Well, she understands Cloudleaper better than I do, it turns out, because apparently she's right, but that didn't come until later. First, we all tucked our LICDs away and focused in instead on a glow that we could see coming from over the pile of rocks between the two chambers of the cavern. We went into the other one to see what might have been causing it, and Cloudleaper's tall enough and was able to see far enough over the rocks that it was still shining over that she said that it was daylight, and-- well, then there was no stopping me from climbing up right beside her.

It was daylight, a whole sky full of it, and grasses covering the mountain slope that the cavern opened out onto, and I almost hoped the others would agree when I asked if they wanted me to go out and look around and make sure there wasn't anything else dangerous lurking just around the corner out there, just for the excuse to walk in grass under the sun again. But we all agreed, with various degrees of reluctance, that that didn't seem likely and that we ought to focus on finding this creature like we'd promised the goblins we would, so we climbed back down into the cavern and continued back the way we'd come to where the two paths had split, and I cast Pass Without Trace on us all so we might stand some chance of avoiding walking into a face full of poison again, and apparently Cloudleaper decided that today, her brand of sneaking was going to be very loudly and insistently talking about feelings.

So we... talked about feelings. Some of us better than others. Pika wrote Cloudleaper too, apparently, and apparently Pika's letter to her had raised just as many questions and just as much confusion as mine had. She seemed bewildered by the idea that lying to someone might not be taken as an overture towards friendship (she kept calling it 'teasing', but it's lying, that's what it is, it's purposefully telling someone something that's not true, that's what lies are. We have three languages in common between us, I know this isn't a translation issue), and equally bewildered when I questioned if that's what we are.

I tried to explain about the Feywild, about how I never saw a proper sunrise or sunlit sky until our first trip to Cadiz Beta and so if I hadn't ever seen something like that, that other people take for granted, why wouldn't I believe that someone else had lived a life where they'd never seen a tree, as unfathomable to me as that is? I don't think she understood, though. And I tried to explain, too, about the Fey, about how important honesty is to them, and how dangerous lies or a broken word can be, and I don't think she understood that, either. She just tried to make it like me not liking when I'm lied to is somehow my fault, is me not respecting 'different communication styles', and I don't agree but I also don't see how, if that is true, the same doesn't go in reverse as well.

I said so, anyway, even though I only managed to work up the gumption to do so when she and Elyn were already two topics of conversation distant. It seemed to give her some food for thought, in any case. I don't know if anything will come of it, and I'm glad to know she doesn't mean to make me feel stupid and gullible and disliked, but I don't know that I can ever bring myself to be okay with being lied to, so I don't know what's to come of it.

Anyway, eventually she'd talked herself out, and we were able to continue on in silence that I, at least, found to be an immense relief. And then I noticed a vibration running through the wall of the tunnel, and very abruptly we were too busy fighting and umber hulk to spare a thought for talking at all.

We were moving quietly, and it was dark in the tunnels, and I think there was a chance we might have been able to keep very still and it would have continued on its way without noticing us. But, well -- we promised to make the ruins safe, and the tunnels, and I've heard enough about the troubles that mines have run into with them to know that they're anything but safe. So we fought it, and killed it quickly enough, and I cut some meat from it for the gnolls, who are certainly going to have a variety to choose from, at this rate.

We continued on after that, as I led the way and kept an eye out for tracks or other signs of creatures. It was a long walk, several hours at least I think, but eventually I started to feel like we were on the right track, like we had to be, of course we were, after all these wrong paths we'd taken. We were going to find this thing, I was sure of it, so sure I couldn't help but wonder if it was Cernunnos's influence, putting that certainty into my heart, telling me in what way he could that we were on the right path.

I should have known better.

Eventually, the tunnel turned more to a corridor like the ones we'd left behind, with stonework and then stairs, and it widened and split a little, widening further up ahead but also opening to one side into a rough-shaped chamber with long stretches of bookshelves along one wall, and metal pillars, and a few glass cases with items stored within them, and on the other end a stone bridge crossing a river to a further space beyond. Elyn and Cloudleaper both had their attention caught by the books, and mine was by the glass cases and the things within, on display like they must surely be magical artifacts, precious and powerful and ancient, and surely, I thought, surely there would be something in there that I could use, something that would make me stronger and better than I am, strong enough and good enough that I can protect Squirt the way that I need to, strong enough that no one, fey queen or otherwise, could ever think to take him from me.

Elyn wanted to look at the books, and I suggested, a little uncertaintly, that perhaps we should find the thing we were looking for first, and come back. I'd like to say that it was because I had doubts, because there was some part of me that questioned my own certainty, but it wasn't. It was only selfishness. It was only that I wanted to be able to look through the case without interruption or distraction. I only wanted to go find the thing because it seemed an obstacle, standing between me and finding whatever thing the glass case held that was calling to me.

Elyn didn't want to wait, and it didn't take more than a word to convince me. It was what I wanted, anyway, and as she and Cloudleaper rushed over to the books I went to the case. There was a sword inside, crystal and gold, and other things, all of them shining and so beautiful that they took my breath away. But as I looked at them, as I got closer and could see them better, the gold seemed just a little tarnished, the crystal seemed scratched, seemed to grow dull and worn.

Before I had a chance to even wonder at the change, there was a shriek from behind me, and I spun about to find Elyn and Cloudleaper snatched up by the most horrifying creature I've ever laid eyes on. Cloudleaper called it a balhannoth later, if that means anything to you. It's a horrible massive thing with long, reaching tentacles and more teeth than any one creature should need, and I didn't get off more than a single shot before I discovered that it could make itself invisible, and a moment after that, when Elyn and Cloudleaper both vanished and their screaming at once started coming from from back towards the tunnels, that it could teleport, too, which is an awful combination.

It was able to teleport me up towards it, as well, and it was a horrible few minutes as I scrambled around, chasing after it as it kept vanishing before my eyes, kept snatching Elyn and Cloudleaper up every time they even got close to escaping its grasp.

I felt so useless, nenîth. My friends were screaming, were bitten and bruised, and I could scarcely manage to get the creature in sight and fire off an arrow before it disappeared again, or teleported again. All I could do was try to shoot it. All I was good at was fighting, and even that, I wasn't that good at. Cloudleaper went unconscious briefly, and nearly got swept down the river, and Elyn was unconscious twice and I couldn't even get to her to do anything to help. I thought I was going to have to chance breaking the wand of healing for good in order to keep her from dying, and it was only a fortuitous kick from Cloudleaper as she twisted in its grasp that finally sent it collapsing to the ground, and gave me a chance to race over to Elyn and pour a potion down her throat.

We were so stupid. Not just about the illusion or the compulsion, though I feel like a right fool about that. But we didn't do this well. We had only a few healing potions between the three of us, and that fight made it perfectly evident that it wasn't nearly enough.

We found bodies in the back of the cavern, goblins and adventurers alike, and a large enough pile of platinum coins to make our jaws drop. I've been keeping track of our funds, so we know what we have, and it's incredible. When we add what we've found here in these ruins, we'll have over thirty-five thousand gold. Thirty-five thousand, nenîth, and we came down here with less than half a dozen healing potions between us. What were we thinking?

Not that we'd encounter an aberration from the Shadowfell, certainly. We were cocky, so sure that we could handle whatever we encountered, even though we knew, we were told it was powerful enough to kill every single goblin sentry who went out looking for it.

Elyn and Cloudleaper only barely escaped with their lives, and if they'd fallen I wouldn't have been far behind them. We lived, but only just, we could so easily have not, and then what? What good is tens of thousands of gold going to be to us, if we die with it in a bank somewhere?

This isn't going to be reassuring, and I'm sorry for it. The truth is, I hardly got hurt, Elyn and Cloudleaper took the worst of it. But I'm just so mad at myself. We did this so poorly. We've been saving up all this gold for all these months, and for what? So we could walk into an aberration's lair unprepared?

We need potions, when we get back to a city large enough to have a temple to Mishakal. We need potions and we need to do something with all this money that we've made, we need to buy things that will help us, that will make us better than we are so this doesn't happen again. We need to be smart, and less cocky, and we need to do something with this money other than save it. I don't want to be the sort of person who dies with unused resources at their disposal. With thirty-five thousand of them.

I don't know what there is to be found, really. I'm not sure what we need, and even less sure of what might be out there and available to fill those needs. The Pack and Tack might have things -- they're where I got my goggles, after all, and Squirt's insignia, though I think if we're going to be fighting fucking aberrations we might be a bit beyond their scope. I don't know. I have their catalogue still, I can look through it I suppose. Later, when I'm steadier. But I think we need more. I don't know what, or even where to begin looking, but we have to find it. This is the closest I've come to really thinking that my friends were going to die, that I was going to die, I think maybe ever. Maybe more than with Peninth'zarthan. Maybe I'm misremembering, maybe it's only that this fight is so fresh, and that one so distant. But it feels worse, and I hate it. I don't ever want to feel like this again. We won, but we so easily could've lost. We so nearly did. I don't ever want to make you have to go through that.

Anyway. It was Cloudleaper who recognized what the thing was, from some book she read, and all at once she was squealing about it as though she'd forgotten about how it had nearly killed her. But when she said it was a creature from the Shadowfell (well, she didn't say it, I had to interpret what she meant through the squealing), I realized the import of what that meant. And, gods bless Devon, because we still carry the driftglobe he gifted to us, and while we mostly only cast Light from it, I remembered that we could cast Daylight from it too, and so I asked Elyn for it and I carried it around the cavern, illuminating every nook and cranny with its light to dispel any portals to the Shadowfell that might have been lingering, and might have caused further problems down the road, for the goblins or the archaeologists or anyone else.

Elyn and I laid out the bodies, as best we could, and took from the goblins anything that seemed like it might be a personal memento or unique enough to identify them, to bring back to Glel and the rest of the community, so they might at least have some closure. And I got what meat I could for the gnolls, because a deal’s a deal, though at this point I think they might find themselves with more of that than they're able to make use of before it spoils. Cloudleaper and I got some teeth from the beast, too, because she wanted to wear a necklace of them, which I can't blame her for, though they're sharp enough that I fear the damage they might do to her if she wore them without blunting the edges in some way. They might make better weapons than ornamentation, and if we go that rout, we got enough of them that we could make weapons for each of us out of them.

That's for later, though. We're resting now, or Elyn and Cloudleaper are. I insisted on taking the first watch, since I barely got scratched and they both were looking much the worse for wear, and neither of them even argued with me.

It's just a cave now. It was all an illusion, the stairs, the books, the glass cases and the items in them, the feeling like we were going to find what we were looking for, all of it. Maybe that's why everything feels so much worse now, when I'd been so sure about everything not an hour ago. And now I'm not sure of anything, except that we did this poorly, and we’re all of us lucky to be alive tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll be making our way back to the goblins, to give them the news and their mementos, and maybe I'll feel better after I've managed to have some sleep. I don't know. But I'll write you tomorrow, just as soon as I'm able, and hopefully it’ll be a less alarming one. If Cernunnos sees fit to let this message through when there isn't a happier one queued up to send with it, then I'm sorry.

I love you, nenîth. I'm going to try to be better, and stronger, and smarter.

All my love,

Maliah

[amemixfan]

“Promise me that, whatever happens, you’ll remember me.” uh, is there any way you could fit in alain, helena, and the mc? i really love the dynamic between 3. or, do you only take requests for 1 LI at a time, if that's the case could u do alain? btw, ty for posting all the fics, they are amazing

Name used is Hannah. ——Soliare’s cell is the last one in the dungeon. To arrive to it, we have to pass rows upon rows of empty cells. It is almost a surprise to see so many unused prisons. For someone as hateful and cruel as the Witch Queen, I had expected her to have hundreds locked up. My fingers trace the edges of the walls and bars. I try to get a feel of the area, magic skimming just past the edges of where the natural eye can see, and can feel the force of time past. Once upon a time, these bars held many that had suffered in my name. Now, they rest as skeletons baring empty echoes. “I hate this place,” I murmur under my breath. Behind me, I hear the shuffle of feet. Alain and Helena follow me just a footstep or two away. They have agreed to accompany me to my excursion. Helena steps to my right, edges of her skirt just slightly brushing my thigh, and offers me a reverent look. Her blue eyes skim the dungeon in perfect sync with the weariness I feel. She was against me coming down to this place from the very beginning. “We do not have to come here, my Queen,” she glances back at the doorway as if promising to whisk me away were I to give the request. Alain takes his place at my left. His armor clanks at my side and his own blue-gray eyes look uncomfortable. Like Helena, he worries for my mental safety.“Whatever message you wish to offer her, I can deliver it myself,” he volunteers. I wave them both off with my best attempt at a smooth smile. Although the dungeons remind me of dark times in my past, times where evil spirits rattled within me and drove me to commit terrible acts, I have to face them. The Witch Queen is dead within me, I feel her corpse just within the reaches of my consciousness, and I must destroy what little remains. To brave my past, as horrible as it may be, is necessary to set myself free. “I’m fine. Relax,” I soothe. My words echo against the dungeon just as, I am sure, screams had before. How many had the Witch Queen trapped here once upon a time? How many had met their fate in this twisted place because a part of me, something controlled by a malevolent being from an ancient crown, had wished it so?I push the thought away upon arriving to Solaire’s cell. Solaire is sitting on the metal slab that passes for a bed. Her eyes are closed but I can tell she is awake. Upon sensing my presence, she bolts upright. “Hannah,” she greets. Relief flourishes across her face when she realizes I am not here to continue whatever torture the others have subjected her to. “Solaire,” I reach out through the bars. There is a jagged cut to one side of her cheek. Dry blood dots her face and she winces when my fingers brush past it. “What happened?”Solaire huffs. “One of the Generals. Fond of knives, that one.”“Lennox,” Alain and Helena hiss it under their breath in unison. They glance at each other, surprised to be in agreement, before quickly looking away. Despite the truce they have declared in order to serve me, to be in agreement is a surprise to them. I bite the inside of my cheek in fury and quickly archive berating Lennox to my to-do list. “We can get you out of here,” I breathe out. My excitement returns full force and I press myself closer to the bars. “There’s a tunnel system beneath the castle. Alain can find an exit and you can go back to Reiner. Do you still want that?”Solaire doesn’t hesitate. “Yes. What about you? Do you want me to plead to Reiner on your behalf-all of your behalves?”She glances back at Alain and Helena. Helena’s expression is troubled, guilt twisting in her gaze, and Alain’s is uncomfortable, remorse burning in his. They’ve both done terrible things in their past, and to ask for help from those which they’ve hurt the most is blasphemous in their minds. They evade Solaire’s gaze and instead focus on me. I offer them both a look, one full of sympathy and fervent belief, and turn back to Solaire. “Would Reiner take us? We don’t have a stellar record.”I can’t remember the full extent of what I’ve done as the Witch Queen, there’s only bits and pieces to my memory, but I know I did things I will never be able to atone for. Lord Wolfson lost his entire family by my hand. To seek shelter from him now seems like a mockery of the pain I subjected him to. “If he has me pleading for your case, he will. My Lord is known for his mercy,” Solaire’s voice is fierce and her eyes shine with pride. She truly believes in Reiner. Some tension eases off my shoulders. Alain and Helena shift in place. “Tomorrow,” I close my eyes, “Tomorrow the Generals want to march out and attack the human domain. We can distract them until nightfall which will give you enough time to escape. Your wings can take you far?”Solaire nods. I pinch the bridge of my nose in thought. “Tonight we have that thing with the Generals don’t we?” I glance back at Alain and Helena. Their expressions twist to bitterness and they silently nod. My own expression sours and I bite my lip. “I’ll make up some excuse as to why we have to delay the attack until tomorrow night. Then, while they’re waiting for nightfall, we’ll slip out of the tunnels. Hopefully, we’ll be long gone by the time they realize they’ve been tricked.”Silence descends over us like a dark shadow. Each of us has something to mull over. My worry lies within the two behind me. We have talked about escape, discussed it the moment Solaire floated the idea, yet they both look concerned. A deep pain twists my stomach. How lowly do they view themselves because of their past crimes that they do not believe they can ever be free?I turn to Solaire and retract my hand from the cell. “Tomorrow then.”When she gives me her affirmative, I nod to myself and move away. Like clockwork, Alain and Helena take a step to follow. They fall into perfect alignment behind me and trail after silently. Their expressions are still conflicted and I know I will have to speak to them both later. They bear heavy guilts over their shoulders, strain against the full weight of their sins, and I want to ease some of the pain I have caused. Both of them killed on my behalf, and I love them both too much to have them bear that pain alone.

The hallways of the palace are desolate and silent. Our footsteps echo off the walls and I have to bite my lip. The castle, like much of that touched by the Witch Queen, is lifeless and bleak. The Witch Queen has left a trail of death and despair in her wake. Sorrow follows her and everything she touched wilts. Alain and Helena, behind me, have not been spared either. They each carry a large cross on their shoulders from everything they have done. Their hands are bloodied and they feel like they do not deserve to hope. It is my desire that they realize they are meant for more than war. They are more than just tools to be used for bloodshed. Their hands may be bloodied but they can rise again. I want them to know that life exists outside of death and they can be free from the shackles that once bound them to tyranny. I bite my lip as we come upon the dinning room. I can hear the sounds of the other three from within as they bicker and argue. Magnus, Jinhai, and Lennox are gathered for dinner and are seemingly quarreling over something. Dread fills me and I rub at my jaw uneasily. I halt before the doorway and straighten my posture. I hate my “Evil Queen” facade, but I have to play the Witch Queen a few more times before our escape. “Whatever I say in there, I don’t mean it,” I turn to my two partners. “Of course,” Helena replies. Her lips are pressed thin and she prepares herself to face the other three. She has made it no secret that she despises them. “We know,” Alain clenches his jaw. His fists are tight at his sides and he eyes the dinning room wearily. Like Helena, he detests the others and fears them. I turn back to the room and channel my inner Charlize. I hold my hands stiffly at my sides and project an air of cool confidence with just an edge of violence. My Witch Queen persona snaps into place easily, more easily than I feel comfortable with, and I wipe my face of emotion. The room tenses as the three of us step into the dining hall. The other three fall silent, argument dropping in mere moments, and their greetings are mixed. “Your Majesty,” Lennox greets. His smile is worshipful but his eyes are impossibly cold. He doesn’t rise from his seat when I enter and the fingers holding his wine glass tense around the stem just a fraction. “My Queen,” Jinhai murmurs. He rests back against his seat casually and folds his arms across his chest. His eyes are openly suspicious, lips thin in distrust, and he feigns reverence. Magnus echoes the greetings at one end of the table. Like the other two, his gaze is extremely suspicious and the corner of his mouth is twisted in a patronizing smile. I give them each a frigid glare and slide into a seat at one end. Helena and Alain slip into the ones on either side of me. Like me, they are putting on a persona of something they are not anymore. Alain slips into a mask of no emotion, the callous knight who blindly serves a tyrant, and angles his body towards me as if he wants to be able to shield me from a threat at a moment’s notice. Helena turns her own expression cold and locks her jaw in hatred. Her own body too is angled towards me as if to shield me from the other Generals. I feel her magic at my side, simmering just beneath her skin, ready to be used were I to give an order. Their protection boosts my confidence. I give Magnus a cool once-over as if he were nothing but an impertinent servant. “How are the battle preparations?” My voice echoes against the tense dining hall. The atmosphere is impossibly divided and harsh. One my side are Alain and Helena, we form our own sort of alliance and maintain our distance. On the other are the rest of the Generals. They grudgingly work together banded against a common enemy-us. “Ready for your call. We await your permission to attack Lord Wolfson,” Magnus’ reply cuts through the silence. His eyes narrow in suspicion. Although I have demonstrated my magic and have known things only their Queen would know, he is still holding his breath. He does not trust me and merely pretends to when I’m in the room. I have no doubt he and the others whisper conspiracy the moment I step out. I take my time cutting my food before answering. I need a way to hold off the attack long enough to give Solaire time to warn Wolfson and his retainers. “And how many troops are ready?” It is a struggle to keep my voice uninterested. Already, I’m struggling to reign in my panic. A hand from under the table gives my knee a calm squeeze. Helena offers me a small nod, an encouragement, sensing my inner turmoil. Not to be rivaled, Alain also skims his fingers on my other knee and keeps his hand there as his own way of helping me. “Enough for the battle. We await your orders,” Magnus answers. I clench my fingers against my steak knife and turn my full gaze on Magnus. I’ve dealt with enough jerks in my life to have mastered my frigid “Female CEO” glare. “Wolfson will fall once I have inspected the troops and assessed for myself that I am ready to march. One of our Generals is wounded,” I nudge my chin at Helena. Her wrist is bandaged from a previous skirmish with the other Generals. They had nicked her with a sword during practice. “My magic is not up to par for our Queen yet. We must wait,” Helena holds her hand up. The wound healed a long time ago, yet she continues to wear the bandage around her wrist. Her injury has been our common excuse to delay the attack. Jinhai rolls his eyes. “And when has one injury stopped us? Lennox was nearly decapitated once yet our queen marched on. We long ago decided that we would not let one of us hold off the rest.”“That was Lennox. He has nothing to offer asides from lies and deceit,” Helena hisses. The room tenses a further fraction. Lennox opens his mouth to retort something, but promptly closes it when Helena sparks her fingers with magic as a warning. He is a coward to the end and is unwilling to fight her outright. I fight a surge of pride at Helena’s display and hide my smirk by taking a bite of my food. Magnus is undaunted. Our delays have irritated him and it is only the fear of the Witch Queen that keeps him from openly challenging me. “Regardless, my men are ready. You cannot delay an attack forever,” his voice is almost sneering and he adds in a “my Queen” to the end of his sentence as a clear afterthought. It is a slight against me that does not go unnoticed. Alain tenses to my side and his hand moves just slightly for his weapon. “Your Queen gave you an order. Bite your tongue.”“You are one to talk. Do not forget which one of us here has more experience, boy.”This time Alain almost does unsheathe his weapon. His eyes are blazing with fury, but I notice it is not in response to the insult against him. Rather, he is angry Magnus is refusing to listen to me. I snag his hand beneath the table and give his fingers a firm squeeze. My touch is enough to relax him. He locks his jaw in anger but the argument is forgotten on his lips. I intertwine my fingers with Alain’s and turn back to Magnus. “Either way, my orders were clear. We will hold off until tomorrow night. Night will give us cover and enough time to inspect the troops. If Helena is not healed by then, we will leave without her.”Silence descends and the tension amounts. The other Generals are not pleased by my decision, but they are willing to relent. They have no power here, to openly question me is suicide, so they bite their tongues and turn back to their plate. After an uncomfortable amount of time, Lennox speaks up. He tries to mask his suspicion by plastering on the ever-creepy smile of his. “My Queen, have you decided what you will do with the fairy in the dungeons? My cult needs a sacrifice to better serve you.”Alain and Helena tense at my side. I give them each a warning nudge with my leg. Careful. “The fairy will remain in my custody. She will make a good maid,” I shrug. There’s a snort from beside Alain. Jinhai gives me a cruel look with a dirty sort of amusement. “A fairy as well? How is that for competition?”I narrow my eyes. He continues on, seemingly very interested. “General Richter and Klein once fought for your attention, your Majesty. It seems like they have added a new rival to their contest. For you to handpick a servant is a new one.”“Watch it,” Helena hisses. Jinhai gives her a curl of the lip, innuendo still shining in his eyes. He is not one to back down from a challenge especially not when he sees how it has hit Alain and Helena. “Or has the competition ended? Did you two draw a stalemate? Agree to share the Queen and alternate as she did all those years ago-“Alain tenses and his jaw is so tight I fear I will hear his teeth crack. Helena similarity grinds her teeth together and her gaze is suddenly pained. I suppress my own wince. ‘Alternate’. The Witch Queen had pit the two against each other for a long time. She had led them both on for years to ensure loyalty then broken their hearts to keep them wanting. She was a seductress, a snake. My fingers curl into a fist underneath the table as something lights in Jinhai’s eyes. He seems to guess at something, taking in the three of us with a new light. The putrid amusement is back on his gaze and I suddenly find it very hard to cool my temper. “Or has the competition ended permanently? Have the two of you drawn a new peace treaty? Decided to share?” He bares his teeth in a smile when he sees the rage in Helena and Alain. Both of them are shaking with fury. Helena’s magic becomes scathing underneath her skin and I hear the metal of Alain’s double bladed weapon slowly inching out of its scabbard. They’re both coiled to strike at any moment. Not for themselves, I realize, but for me. They want to defend my honor from Jinhai’s humor. Were I to give the order, the disgraced elf would be nothing more than a stain of blood on the marble flooring. Lennox snorts into his wineglass, looking down at his nose on Alain and Helena. Magnus’ lip curls with disgust. The three Generals look down on them. The affection and rivalry between Alain and Helena had been mercilessly insulted in the past by them and the Witch Queen herself. Each general around me served the Witch Queen for their own cause, and each one felt their cause was greater than the other. They all look down on each other and judge one another openly. I stand from my seat suddenly. My hands are curled into fists and I suppress the boiling rage underneath my skin. Just one more day. One more day of looking at these vultures and then I’m done. I raise my chin high and look down at the three from the bottom of my nose. It works, they suddenly look very nervous and pale. They may scoff behind my back and whisper treason, but face them head on and they are cowards. The Witch Queen has instilled so much fear into them that they still feel it in my presence despite the lingering doubt they have that I am not their queen.“Enough. I detest fighting among you. If you wish to fight, make it one to the death outside. Until then, my orders are my orders.”I spin around in my heels and stalk off. Seconds later, I hear Alain and Helena scramble to follow. “Tomorrow then,” Magnus calls out. It sound like a challenge. Tomorrow then, I mentally echo.

As soon as the door to the courtyard closes behind us, I relax. The Witch Queen’s facade falls from my shoulders and I move my neck sideways to crack it. I always feel icky after playing her. The Witch Queen had been someone so full of hatred and malice that it is a shock to be outside of her and back in my own skin. “Do you think they’ll listen?” I turn to Helena. She curls her lip in distaste and takes a seat in the courtyard bench. “They will have to. Magnus may distrust you, but he will not challenge his Queen openly.”“Even if he does, Lennox and Jinhai won’t follow. The two are cowards and won’t back him unless they are certain they will win,” Alain slides into the space on my other side, “And you have two on your side. It is a tie and they fear that.”“They prefer unfair fights,” I coldly remark. My gaze falls on Helena’s false wound. They had teamed against her and nearly broken the wrist. Helena moves her sleeve to cover it, but I can sense a sort of light in her. It warms her to know that I care about her. She spent so long being hurt by an abuser that let her down that she can hardly believe she has someone in her corner now. I bite my lip and take both of their hands in mine. They offer them without resistance and almost lean closer into me. Helena takes my right and Alain my left. I stare at our linked hands. The Witch Queen had pit them against one another to drive a wedge. Between all the Generals, Alain and Helena had been the closest. Had they not been led on by the same monster, they could have easily been friends. Instead, they had been led in a fierce-some fight for attention. They had despised each other by nurture all the while suppressing just how well they got along by nature. I had tried my best to settle peace between the two. Choosing between them was a torture for myself and them, so I had struck a new deal. The agreement felt foreign to each of us, neither of us having experience, but we were getting there. They were getting better at overcoming the competition that sparked between them. “What do you want to do with peace? Once the Generals are defeated for good, I mean,” I ask. The question feels heavy even as I ask it, but I want it spoken. War is not permanent and peace will win. The two at my side, former Generals who once believed their sole existence was for the sake of death and destruction, need to know that they are worthy of it. They each deserve the world and everything in it. “Peace?” Helena whispers the word like she doesn’t know the meaning of it. Alain’s features twist in pain and he looks away. The white roses he planted for a tyrant are everywhere. Flower petals blow in the breeze and some come to rest on our hair. Once, he had given me a rose to prove his loyalty-but then that promise had been twisted for compliance. How terrible it is to twist a knight’s innocent devotion to a war criminal’s cruel obedience. “Wars don’t last forever. Once we win,” because we will, “what will you two do? What do you want to do?”Alain bites his lip. “I never thought of it.”“Nor I,” Helena looks away. I frown to myself. Were they expecting to die for the Witch Queen? Had they never seen a future past that of a martyr’s?Quiet reigns for a few more seconds. I can hear them collecting their thoughts, letting their imaginations roam where they once refused to let themselves go, and I give them time. Finally, Alain speaks. He closes his eyes as if he could travel to whatever future he desires. I feel the way his fingers shake in my hand. “Something quiet,” he murmurs. “Quiet,” Helena echoes under her breath, “And free. Somewhere we will not have to worry about being recognized.”I let them continue and trace a pattern into their hands with my thumb. My touch sends sparks across their arms. I feel the way Helena shivers and Alain relaxes. “Outdoorsy, somewhere Nyx could roam free.” Nyx, Alain’s horse. “Somewhere by a river. The water relaxes me,” Helena replies. I bite the inside of my cheek. Whether they mean to or not, their futures are aligning. The two Generals have spent so long quarreling with one another that they seldom realize how alike they truly are. Affection for them both fills me and I close my eyes. “Where would you each want to go then?” I try to imagine a future with them both. One where Alain is free of the torment he endured. One where he can ride Nyx freely and for fun. One where his sword never tastes blood again. And one where Helena can practice her craft for herself and not for war. One where she can be free of the abuse she endured and let herself rise. One where she can flourish in peace without looking over her shoulder for fight. The future that comes to mind is a lovely one and I feel an urge to cry. I bite my lip. I will make them a future like that. I will give them the freedom they both deserve. Helena answers first. Her eyes are fervent and fond. “Wherever you go.”Alain, at my side, nods. His own gaze is loving and full of loyalty. “We will follow you anywhere.”I glance between the two of them, feel warmth flourish in me, and offer their hands a squeeze. ‘Together’ has a nice ring to it.

Helena’s workshop is a sacred place to her, she has put so much secrecy and care to her safe haven, that I can tell she is weary to let Alain in. She hesitates outside the doorway, one hand on the wood, and clenches her jaw. Alain, next to me, glances away in similar awkwardness. He realizes he is not welcome and feels awkward as well at the thought. I place a hand at Helena’s back. We don’t have to share. Not this. If she is uncomfortable, we can go somewhere else. I know the agreement she has settled with Alain is still difficult for them both. They have spent so long fighting that sharing is foreign. I am more than willing to respect their boundaries-But she shakes her head. She raises her chin and pushes the door open. The scent of magic and wood fills my nose as we enter. Helena had fashioned this station to serve as a home. The palace was never a home for anyone. Here, this space has offered her peace of mind and freedom. I drift inside and take the place in. There’s her in everything and I feel at ease in the atmosphere. This is the place where someone had bared her soul and found herself. “Give the word,” Alain whispers to Helena. Give the word and we can leave. Give the word and he will leave her alone. Helena shakes her head once. No, she is willing to share this. I watch their interaction with warmth. The friendship between them is still tense, they are learning to share something they had both spent so long trying to monopolize, but it’s come a long way. We take a seat at a table with peeling white paint. Helena sets a tea pot down. The scent of warm lavender wafts from the tea cups she pours for each of us. I wrap my fingers around mine and let the warmth seep into my skin. My muscles relax and the tension that had once lingered around us eases into an amicable peace. Alain and Helena have each brought treats with them. Alain made a lemon cake that takes me back to my childhood. The sweet takes me back to a life time of running with Alain through pastures and laughing well into the night. The recipe is Solaire’s and I can remember that it was once my favorite. He had spent years trying to recreate the perfect taste to please me. Helena’s treat is something foreign. It tastes of cinnamon and butter and is twisted into knots. It makes me think of her village and how she was trying to find a new home. It is a reminder that we can leave behind the past we all suffered through and begin anew. I set my fork down and bite the inside of my cheek. Night is descending around us and it brings tomorrow closer. Tomorrow we will have to put our plans into motion and flee. Hopefully Reiner will be able to defeat the Generals once and for all once we do. Hopefully the war will be brief and we can win it quickly. How ironic it is to fight a war for peace. “When will Solaire be released?” I ask the question at Alain. He prods at the desert Helena made with his fork, curiosity in his gaze. “I can have her out of here before morning light. I have the keys to the cell and am the only one who knows all the tunnels. She will be gone before they realize.”I digest this information and take a sip of the tea. The liquid leaves a pleasant taste in my mouth but nervousness still twinges inside me. This plan of ours is risky, but isn’t the outcome worth the fight?I turn to Helena then. She is staring at Alain’s cake silently. Her eyes skim the icing with calculation as if she could assess its worth. Despite my best efforts, there is still a competition between them. They had once each learned to bake to please me and outshine the other, and they still struggle with letting go. Their friendship is still in the early stages. “And you can take us as far as the outside of the woods? Have us gone by the time Magnus realizes what happened?”Helena nods and finally takes a bite of the cake. “We will be long gone.”I stare down at my cup and watch the tea swirl around the sides. The ball of anxiety in my stomach is still there, but I push it down. We will make it out of here. I will get them out of here. They deserve so much more than the lives of war criminals. I reach out to them both and take their hands. They offer it without resistance and turn their attention to me. Immediately, they are on alert. I close my eyes and picture every way tomorrow can go wrong. The vision is not a pretty one and I have to swallow down my fear. “Promise me something,” I whisper. “Anything,” is their reply in perfect synch. “Promise me that, whatever happens, you will remember me.”Remember me. Me. Not the Witch Queen who tormented you and made you bloody your hands. Not the Witch Queen who abused you and brought you nightmares. Not the Witch Queen who made you believe you were just pawns to be used and discarded for war. But me. Me.The me that was before and after a possessed crown. The me that tried her best for you. The me that tried to show you that you were deserving of peace. The me that tried to create a world where you could be friends and not enemies-The me that loved you with everything that she was and everything that she could be. Alain lifts my hand to his lips. He brushes a kiss to my fingers and closes his eyes. A shiver passes through him. “Always.” His promise is fervent, loving, and he tightens his grip on my hand. Helena lifts my hand to her own lips. She places a kiss on my skin and her eyes seek mine. Her gaze is burning with affection and so many other millions of emotions that I can’t make out. “Forever.”Her own promise is powerful, final, and I know she means it. I close my eyes and concentrate on their breath on my skin, on their presence next to me, and on their sworn oaths. I know not what tomorrow will bring, the future is so uncertain and so changing, but I know that I will fight either way. I will fight for them till the very end. The two at my side deserve a future that is more than just that of war. They deserve peace and love and everything I could possibly hope to give them-And I will give it to them. I know not what tomorrow will bring, but I know that I will give them everything I can. They promised not to forget me, and I, in turn, swear that I will not fail them.

[huffleporg]

The Promised Storm, Chapter 1

A Lieutenant Duckling AU

Faced with a terrible threat from the Evil Queen, Emma must make a deal with the Dark One that comes at a price she soon realizes she cannot pay. With the help of a lieutenant in Their Majesty's Royal Navy, Emma searches for a way to save the realm and her happy ending.

[M], 1/?, ~5500 words, [Ao3]

As they descended further down into the tunnels, the air took on a noticeable chill. Emma wrapped her summer shawl around herself more tightly. She hadn't thought when she had been up in the sweltering heat of midday an hour ago that she would feel this cold so shortly. Just as she began to shiver, Emma felt a weight on her shoulders as the warmth of her father's cloak envelope her.

"Here," he said.

Emma looked up to give her father a thankful smile, one her father barely managed to return before glancing ahead, peering beyond the reach of the guard’s torches. She knew that neither of her parents had wanted her to come today, but they hadn’t had any choice but to include the future queen in on the troubling matters that had led to this bitter decision. They had wanted to spare her from all of this, they always had.

Emma only needed one hand to count the number of times she had been in the tunnels underneath the castle. The first time she had been seven, and Pinocchio had told her there was a monster that lived down below. Though she had known the teenager was prone to telling lies, he had seemed so convincing that she had had to go and see for herself. Her parents had fought monsters and won, and even at that young an age, Emma had been determined to be a hero like them. But, after what had felt like at the time hours of looking and failing to find any signs of a monster, Emma had given up, concluding that once again Pinocchio had to be lying. She now knew that she had barely gone a tenth of the way down into the depths, nor could she have been gone for more than half an hour.

The second and last time she had ventured down below the castle, she and Alex had been almost eleven, and exploring the castle above ground had become boring. Two princesses, however, could not vanish for long without their absence being noticed. By the time they had been found, Emma's mother had worked herself up into such a state that Emma had thought her mother to be livid rather than afraid. That incident caused the first serious punishment Emma had ever received.

Now, Emma understood why her parents had been so upset to learn where she and her friend had been found exploring. She no longer thought no dessert for a month, no balls for a year, and extra lessons in the history of Misthaven were excessive punishments for simply wandering around the underground terrain. She wished that her parents had told her why all those years ago, but perhaps they had thought the explanation would only make her more likely to venture down to see what they had imprisoned there.

“I really don’t like doing this,” murmured her father, as he laced his fingers with his wife’s.

"We have exhausted all other options," her mother said with a sigh, shaking her head. "If there were anything else we could do or hadn’t tried, we would be doing it. But she is coming, and we don’t have much time.” It was a reiteration of what they had said before, but it seemed that they hoped the sheer act of repeating their plan and their reasons would erase the immense doubt that grew with each step.

Emma could see the worry in her mother and father’s faces. Since the news had reached them that their greatest foe was on the verge of overpowering the magic that protected Misthaven from her, the King and Queen had barely slept. While not everyone in castle knew the threat that was looming over them, everyone was aware of the bed that went unused for days at a time, the dark bags under Snow White’s and David’s eyes, and how both suddenly were unable to attend to the usual civil matters that normally occupied their attention.

The pace began to slow, and Emma turned to look at her mother, about to ask whether they were arriving.

Her mother spoke first. "Emma." Snow White gently rested her hand on her daughter's shoulder. With a reassuring smile that didn't dim the troubled shine in her eyes, she continued, "If you'd rather not be here, we would understand completely. This... this is hard. Ruling is hard and filled with difficult decisions that will cause you many, many sleepless nights. But, if you don't feel ready, if today isn't the day-"

Firmly, Emma shook her head. "I am doing this." The fear and doubts grabbed at her, begging her to stay behind as she advanced, but she persisted. One day, provided their plan worked, Emma would be Queen. The sooner she learned how to face enemies and foes like him, the better off the realm would be. Duty urged her forward, even though she felt like she had swallowed fire and her knees beginning to shake as she rounded the final bend.

She needed to be brave for what was about to come.

Catching sight of the prison cell, it was hard not to gasp. In the trembling light of the torches the guards held, the toothy bars seemed to move, as if the cage was alive. A great monster determined to keep an even greater one trapped inside its mouth.

"He can't harm you." David walked ahead, a guard by his side. "He is powerless here."

Despite the light, the cell remained in shadows, the firelight turning opaque in the heavy air. If the Dark One had no powers here, then how was the air so thick, protecting him from her gaze?

Emma.

She stopped, heart jumping into her throat.

Emma.

A cold sweat dampened the back of Emma's dress.

Her parents turned around, realizing their daughter was no longer following them. "Something wrong?" asked David.

They hadn't heard it, but Emma knew that she hadn't imagined it. She peered forward into the darkness of the cell, expecting to see the Dark One staring back at her. Nothing. But he was there. She knew he was, just as he knew she was approaching him. The urge to turn around and run made all of her muscles tense. This was a dangerous place to be, with a dangerous beast. Emma wished she was back above the ground, safe and doing anything else. Tickling a nesting dragon seemed so much less deadly than being here.

She swallowed, struggling to manage, "No." If she were to tell her parents just how terrified she was, there was no way they would not reconsider and send her away. She needed to be brave. She had to be. Quickly walking to make up the distance between herself and her parents, she insisted, "I'm fine."

The expressions on her parents' faces were hardly reassured ones, but they turned forward to face the cell.

Straightening herself up, Snow White took a deep breath. "Rumplestiltskin."

Emma's racing heart beat loudly in her ears as she looked past her parents into the gloom of the prison.

"Rumplestilskin."

Out of the darkness, long talon-like nails appeared, sharp and caked with years of grime. Greenish-gold hands wrapped around the projecting bars, pulling forward a leathery face. Olive skin sparkled in the torchlight under the dirt.

"Been a long time, dearies." The Dark One let out a high-pitched giggle that seemed to belong to someone else, and not the demon that had spoken in such a low, raspy growl seconds before. "Snow White and Prince Charming." The impish man tilted his head, fixing his eyes on Emma. "And Princess Emma."

The blood drained from Emma's face. The frantic desperation behind the eyes seemed more animal than human. And there was no doubting it: the voice she alone had heard was this man's. The way the Dark One lingered on her name was unmistakable. Emma took a step back, bumping into a guard who promptly and quietly apologized before stepping aside.

"And just what has brought you to my humble abode after..." he pressed his face between the bars, "nearly eighteen years? Hmmm? Must be the Queen."

"The Evil Queen," corrected Snow White with a frown.

"A queen nevertheless." The Dark One grinned, lips cracking in the process. He continued, slightly singing, "Banish the Queen to another realm... give the Queen another realm..." He stopped. "You can't be surprised she found new subjects?" He glanced from King to Queen with a smirk on his face. "She is destined to be queen. Throw her in a strange realm, and before long she has conquered them. One way or another."

"You saw this," said Snow White, taking a few steps forward. Her eyes flashed accusingly.

The Dark One let out a laugh. "But of course. Though even if I didn't have the Sight, it's not too hard to guess. You asked the Blue Fairy for help. You couldn't have believed that she would offer you a real solution. That's not what fairies do."

"She's missing," said David. "No one has heard from her. We think the Evil Queen might have taken her."

With a shrug, the Dark One said, "It’s a possibility. I taught her well. And if she has taken that pesky fairy, you should assume she's taken her heart." The smile on the prisoner's face was undeniably proud. "Which really does put you in quite the bind. And I take it none of the other fairies are able to help." He let his head tilt to one side, taking their silence as an answer. “And that can only mean one thing.” He clapped his hands once and pointed to Snow White, “You want a deal!” He grinned. “In exchange for me helping you, you will offer me…”

“Your freedom,” said Snow White.

A sincere flash of surprise spread across the Dark One’s face, a wave that quickly passed. “Oh, you must be scared for you to offer that after all the trouble you went through to get me here,” he said. “Tell me, what does she want? Your lives?” He gestured at Emma. “Her heart?”

“Worse.” Snow White’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “She says she will kill everyone born after she was banished. Every child in this realm and far beyond.”

Even though she had heard the threat before, Emma still shuddered at the mention of it.

The Dark One stepped back from the bars. The shadows began to cloud his features. “That… that certainly is quite the threat.” He spoke in the same whisper Snow White did. “She never was afraid to leave a pile of bodies in her wake, and children… well… Do you know just how many children died to get that apple she poisoned you with?”

Snow White shook her head. “I don’t want to know.”

“We want to stop any more children from dying,” said David.

“Of course you do.” The Dark One’s voice was almost a laugh, though the gravity of the situation seemed to weigh down the monster’s mirth. “You’re heroes. That’s what you do. Save the day. But you need my help.”

“We need all the help we can get,” Snow White said. “So we are willing to make this deal with you to stop the Evil Queen from returning and terrorizing our people.” She glanced over her shoulder and motioned Emma to come forward.

Forcing down her fear, Emma held her head high with all the decorum her mother had taught her and walked forward to the bars of the prison. From her reticule, she drew out a roll of parchment and unfurled it, holding it up.

The Dark One approached slowly, peering through the bars at the contract.

“You,” started Emma, her voice cracking, “you’re to help us find a way to defeat Regina, the Evil Queen. In exchange, we will free you from your prison.”

“I can see that,” the Dark One said, his golden flecked eyes flicking up to once again meet hers.

Her heart thudded loudly in her ears. “Sign it, and we will free you.”

“Am I to sign with blood?” he quipped, a smirk curling his lips.

“With this,” said David, holding out a quill already dipped in ink.

“Squid ink again, Charming?” The Dark One clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “That’s not about to work on me again.”

“That’s not squid ink.” With a smile, Snow White revealed a bottle she had been hiding in the folds of her dress. “But this is.”

The Dark One reached his hand out through the bars, considering. His eyes flitted from King to Queen before settling again on Emma. “Very well,” he said. He took the quill-pen from David’s hand. With a smooth flourish, he wrote, Rumplestiltskin. “Now your end of the bargain, Dearies.”

Snow White met her husband’s gaze for a moment, her face set in a deep frown. “Your freedom.” She uncorked the bottle. “Step back.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Two quick steps back distanced him from the bars of his cell.

Snow tossed the black contents of the bottle at the stalactite-like bars. As the ink made contact with the stone, it began to shimmer blue before consuming gate.

With a gleeful giggle, the Dark One hurried out of his prison cell, causing the entire company - royals and guards alike - to go back a pace. “My, my,” he said. “The air already feels fresher.”

Not amused or interested in delay, David said, “We’ll go up to the castle and start plan--”

The Dark One held up a finger. “But I didn’t agree to do anything for you right away. If you had wanted that, you should have put it in the contract.” As he laughed, a cloud of blood red smoke swirled around him, swallowing him up.

Emma stared dumbfounded as the smoke cleared to show that the Dark One was gone.

***

The time it took for Killian to feel steady on dry land he had come to realize wasn’t truly measured in time. The uneasy rocking under his feet could last an hour, a day. Gently, the pitch and fall of the earth persisted, making him unsteady as he navigated cobbled streets and dirt paths. It didn’t cease until, finally, he could see the masts of the tall ships in the harbor. The sight never failed to restore him and quicken his pace. After an afternoon inside the walls of the manor house, Killian was eager to feel the planks of the ship underneath him again.

Reaching the docks, Killian stopped before boarding, pulling down on his blue jacket and adjusting the way his bicorne sat. Though the sailors had been given their liberty until sunrise tomorrow morning, Killian had long ago made it a habit to make sure he was always in his best form, even when no one was watching.

Killian strode up the gangway, looking fore and aft about the deck of the Jewel of the Realm. Just as he had expected, not a sailor was in sight. The only living souls he could see as he jumped from gangway to the deck were the ambered eyed ship’s cat and the chickens she was currently watching, tail flicking back and forth. Killian could only hope that the cages would hold out against the cat’s attempts. With a sigh, Killian went to the aid of the chickens he had bought just that morning, sending the cat scurrying away with a few claps. It was a losing battle, he knew, but one he still felt obligated to attempt.

“Lieutenant.”

Quickly, Killian spun round to see a man’s bald head and torso climbing out from the hold. “Sailor.” Though he had known Silas for over a year now, there were still certain respects and formalities that Killian believed were due to the men under his command. After over a decade of service in the navy, the boatswain had long ago proven himself especially worthy of respect.

“The Captain instructed me that he wants to talk to you as soon as you’re back,” said Silas, halfway emerged.

Before Silas was able to continue, Killian was already heading towards his brother’s cabin.

The steps were barely more than a ladder down into the hull, but Killian quickly descended without any conscious effort. In the years since Liam had taken up captainship, Killian had climbed the steps enough times to be able to do it in the dark, though he preferred to avoid it. Few good things came from stumbling about in the dark.

Reaching the last few steps, Killian could see Liam with his back turned, studying something by the window. "Captain?"

Liam turned around, his serious expression quickly becoming a welcoming smile. "Killian, I'm glad you're back. I trust things went smoothly."

"Fortunately there was no trouble." Still standing on the bottom step, "Silas told me you wanted to see me," said Killian. He set one foot down on the deck.

With a nod Liam said, "I got a bird from the Queen." The captain walked over to the table and picked a piece of parchment up that Killian hadn't noticed before.

Curiosity made Killian approach, reaching out to take the missive. "Really?" This was hardly the first correspondence Killian knew his brother had had from the royal family, but those instructions were few and far between. And never had they been sent by bird. They had never been tasked with something that required the urgent swiftness only one of the Queen’s birds could provide.

Before Killian could do more than notice the seal of the King and Queen, Liam began to speak.

"They want us to return to Misthaven."

Killian frowned. Their mission wasn't even halfway done.

"They are asking for the whole fleet to come back," he continued, with a sigh. Liam wore a troubled expression that Killian hadn’t seen on his brother’s face for some time now. “I think they fear war is coming. At least, an attack is imminent.”

A country that had been at peace for almost twenty years was now preparing for war. Dread clenched Killian’s stomach as he recalled his servitude in a country at war. Those memories belonged to another lifetime very different than the one the lieutenant lived now serving the King and Queen of Misthaven, or at least Killian hoped that they would remain two very different and distinct lives, with the concerns and woes of war not bleeding into the present. He and Liam had escaped that land of fear, rationing, and broken men. The possibility that his new homeland would be gripped by those troubles and concerns was positively terrifying.

“Against who?” breathed Killian. “I thought all the kingdoms and queendoms of Misthaven were in concord.” Not like where he and Liam had come from where it was acceptable for children to become slaves to be bought and sold. “And the treaties with all the neighboring realms and lands are supposed to be strong.” Nothing he had heard had ever given him reason to doubt this fact. Not even the faraway war of the Jones’s native land impacted the dealing of Snow White’s Queendom; years ago she had made agreements that prevented that war from touching her country.

Glumly, Liam shrugged, “I cannot say. But if the Queen is worried, we all should be.”

Never one to deny his brother’s judgement, Killian nodded in agreement. “Then we must prepare to sail,” concluded Killian. He glanced out in the direction of the docks, though all he could see was his pale reflection in the mirror above Liam’s berth. “Shall I try to track our men down? I can go to the taverns and--”

Liam held up a hand and said firmly, “No need, Lieutenant.” He walked over to Killian offering a small, barely reassuring smile. “The men will return tomorrow by dawn. They are all probably drunk by now, barely able to work, and I know that is something you won’t tolerate aboard the Jewel. Even if you were to find them all within the hour, they wouldn’t be sober until nightfall.”

“If then,” murmured Killian. He knew far too well just how long it could take for the effects of certain drinks to wear off, especially when quite a lot had been drunk in a short period of time, as he knew sailors in port were wont to do. As he too had once done.

“And this is not the harbor to navigate at night,” continued Liam. “Let us give them until dawn, as we originally said. It is only fair. Let them enjoy their night. You stay here.” He returned to what he had been studying before. “Besides-” he picked up the atlas and brought it over to the table where Killian could better see it, “- I need the help of my best navigator to help me chart the swiftest course.”

Despite his worries, Killian managed a small grin at his brother’s compliment. Joining his brother at the table, Killian said, “As you wish, Captain.”

***

After several hours of poring over atlases and charts, Killian couldn’t deny that his eyes were itching for a break. But, there were so few times that the ship was ever truly quiet that Killian didn’t want to let this moment pass him by, especially not with the possibility that there would be no more nights like this once they returned to Misthaven. Killian had to make the most of this opportunity, even if he was exhausted, and he had to squint in the flickering light of the oil lamp while sitting at the chest and shelves that served as a makeshift desk beside the empty bunks. At least the calm waters of the harbor made the lamp barely sway, for that he could be thankful.

Peering down at the musty pages of the book he had found in a shop a dozen ports ago, Killian tried to detangle the letters he had first encountered while learning mathematics.Though it was theoretically a primer, it presented sections from an ancient epic from a long gone world, passages that were frustratingly complex with not enough of the words glossed or the grammar satisfactorily explained. The cryptic marginalia of generations of learners past helped some, but barely. After months of looking for a primer in the language of the gods, Killian knew that he shouldn’t complain, but still, he planned to continue looking for a better one in every port they landed in. That of course required him ever having leave to explore a port on his own again. War would change all of that.

Killian didn’t turn around when footsteps thudded down the stairs, instead, he leaned forward over the book. It wasn’t until a shadow fell over his page did he look up to the young blonde man standing in between him and his light. Or rather, he was closer to swaying. Killian frowned. There was no mistaking the familiar scent of a tavern on the Ensign’s breath.

Ignoring his lieutenant’s obvious disapproval, the junior officer leaned forward, looking past Killian towards the book he had been studying. “What have you got there, Lieutenant?” he asked with a grin.

There would be no more studying tonight. Killian could see that. “Really none of your concern, Rolfe.” He got to his feet and sidestepped the other man to get to his own bunk. He tucked the book safely under his mattress.

“Don’t know why y’spend so much time with the books,” said Rolfe, sitting down where Killian had been a moment before. “Didn’t you get enough of that stuff at the Academy?”

“Can’t ever be done learning,” said Killian lightly, allowing the other officer to maintain his mistaken impression that he and Liam were duty-bound to encourage. It was easier, in a way, to allow everyone to believe that he and Liam had been trained and commissioned in the navy of their former kingdom, but had defected after their ship was wrecked. It required little explanation and prevented questions, not like the truth would. Revealing that he and Liam had been promoted for services rendered to the crown, as that would prompt inquires into what that service was, something that the crown couldn’t afford.

“You’re an odd one, Jones.”

“Lieutenant Jones,” corrected Killian. Though by birth and education, the taller officer was several classes above him, Killian couldn’t let Rolfe forget that here he outranked him. He couldn’t let any of the men forget, not if there was to be order. In the days and months to come - Killian hoped it didn’t come to years, but feared it might - order was what they all would need.

In complete breach of decorum, Rolfe laughed, “You know that attitude is exactly why the mates call you Lieutenant Killjoy.”

Killian stiffened, his fist clenching onto his blanket. “Your out of line, Officer,” he said through gritted teeth. “This sort of behavior is exactly why I don’t allow--”

“Didn’t bring any back,” interrupted Rolfe. “I’m not like the mates. I’m not stupid.”

Turning around to face Rolfe, Killian said, “They’re not stupid either.” Some simply underestimated just how serious he was about making sure his men stayed in line and behaved appropriately while on duty. A day or two off in port was enough to make them forget or hope that their lieutenant had changed his mind in the meantime.

“Go to The Masked Lady and then tell me that again,” joked Rolfe.

The lieutenant held no delusions as to what sort of behavior the sailors were up to in the taverns around the docks. But, he knew what they were capable of when completely sober, even if Rolfe chose to ignore it. “You’re not going to win any respect talking like that, especially when you’re not doing anything particularly different than them,” said Killian cooly.

The blush around the officer’s face deepened with anger. “Hardly fair, Jones.” Rolfe’s voice bristled with offense as he spoke. “You don’t see me spending my pay on some poxy dock whore.” He got to his feet and quickly closed the distance between them, so he could tower over Killian. “Take it back.” To keep his balance, Rolfe leaned forward, hand outstretched to support himself on the top bunk.

Killian’s bunk.

Once again, Killian could smell the drink on Rolfe’s hot breath. He could see the burning in Rolfe’s dark eyes. The other man seemed drunk enough to do something reckless. Killian wanted none of that. That had been the point of staying on the Jewel tonight.

Turning to the side not blocked by Rolfe’s hand, Killian said, “You’re too drunk, Officer. You really should have waited before coming back to the ship.” Killian walked swiftly to the door, not daring himself to look back at the Ensign until he had opened the door to the ladder. “I believe it would be best if we both forgot you came back here tonight.”

The other man had followed the lieutenant’s progress with his gaze, hand still resting on Killian’s bunk. He spoke not a word, but merely scowled at his coeval.

As Killian climbed up the ladder to the weatherdeck, he let the cool night air wash away the lingering annoyance from Rolfe’s interruption. Up on deck, Killian walked over towards the hatch above his brother’s cabin. Darkness. Killian paused. He hadn’t thought that it had been that late. “Liam,” he said, soft enough so he wouldn’t wake his brother if he were sleeping. The waves and the creaking of the ship were the only answer he got. Killian sighed and looked up at the familiar constellations in the summer sky. He doubted that he would have to wait very long until Rolfe succumbed to the somnolence of the alcohol. Until then, however, Killian had the stars.

***

“We should have never trusted him,” said David, pacing the length of formerly defunct war room. “I knew it was a terrible idea to go to him.”

The air of defeat had hung heavy about the three royals for hours. All during the climb upwards from the prison deep under the castle, silence had reigned. Neither guard, nor king, nor queen, nor crown princess was able to speak. Emma had watched her parents’ faces, seeing their faces turn from anger to worry, and then back to the heavy, grim-set lines of anger in her father’s case.

“You and I both know that there’s always this risk when it comes to the Dark One,” said said Snow White, looking up from one of the dozens of books the librarian had found for them that could possibly help them. They all knew there was only a dim hope that the faded pages of books about magic and history could be of aid to them now, but it was what Emma’s mother had chosen to cling to since emerging from the dungeons. “He always has his own agenda, his own plans.”

“Why did we even think that he would care?” The king didn’t seem to be listening to his wife. “He takes children. Why would he want to help us save them?”

“We had hoped he had changed,” answered Snow White.

“And indeed I have.”

The voice sent a shiver through Emma’s body. All three royals turned around, to see the Dark One leaning against a pillar, smirking at the distressed scene. No longer dressed in the rags that bore nearly two decades worth of grime, the Dark One wore a high collared jacket, fashioned from some kind of reptile’s skin.

The sound of her father drawing his sword drew her attention away from the Dark One. Her mouth went dry. She had only ever seen her father draw his sword for ceremonial purposes, never out of fear.

“All those years below the ground… well, that changes a man.”

“Why did you leave?”

All eyes in the war room turned to Emma.

The damage had already been done, Emma realized too late. A sick sensation crept over her, but she couldn’t hold back. Her fear was strong, her fury was stronger. She continued, trying not to let her voice waiver, “What could possibly be more important than stopping her?”

Instead of anger, amusement flashed across the Dark One’s face. “She’s got your tact, Charming,” he said.

“Why?” persisted Emma.

Unperturbed by the young woman’s rage, the Dark One strolled from the pillar towards her. “I had some rather important business I had to attend to,” he said calmly. “Business I have been waiting to finish longer than you have been alive, Princess.”

Emma could see her father and mother in the corner of her eye. Her mother had risen to her feet, her face pale and drawn. Her father was striding towards them, sword still out.

“So you went out and did errands while the lives of over a thousand children hangs in the balance,” hissed Emma. “What kind of a monster does that?”

The Dark One reached Emma before her father did. “The kind that needs to find a way to defeat the Queen.” Without even looking, the Dark One waved his hand. The clank and clatter of her father’s sword flying out of his hand echoed in the large room.

Emma didn’t flinch. Instead, she stared straight at the Dark One.

“So you’ve found a way,” said Snow White. She walked to join her husband, who stood behind Emma now.

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” He smirked proudly. “But it’s going to cost you.”

“You agreed to help us,” said Snow White desperately. “It’s there. In the contract. Emma show--”

“The deal was for me to find a way to defeat the Queen,” interrupted the Dark One. “I have. Our both ends of the deal have been upheld.”

Emma had never seen eyes shine as brightly as the Dark One’s.

“You can’t do this,” stammered Snow White.

“But I am.”

“But the children are--,” protested David.

“What’s the price?” Emma’s voice cut through the quarrelling, causing all the fall silent.

Beaming, the Dark One said, “Glad you asked, dearie, as it’s you who will pay the price.”

“That’s hardly fair,” said Snow White. “Don’t bring her into this.”

“But you brought her into this when you brought her to me.” With a shrug of his leather-clad shoulders, he continued, “Besides, it’s her life on the line, not yours. Isn’t that right?” He took a step closer to Emma. “You were born after the Evil Queen was banished to her new realm. You are the one who will die.”

Reluctantly, Emma nodded.

“Therefore, it’s only fair that you make the deal and you pay the price. I’m doing you a favor by saving your life.”

Emma knew she was trapped. “And what do you want from me? My first born?”

A giggle escaped the Dark One’s cracked lips. “No… that is all in the past for me. No, in exchange for my knowledge and aid so you can defeat the Evil Queen and save the lives of all the children in this realm and the next, and wherever else she has threatened, I want your hand in marriage to my first born.”

Silence returned to reign once again.