#five is just like this but he's proven that deep down he's a good lad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fancifulwhump · 5 years

Note

i’m a simple bitch who likes seeing jaskier get kidnapped and geralt having to rescue him lmao

AN: as you ask, so shall you recieve. protective geralt going from beast-mode to soft?? that’s my jam, dude

In Geralt’s complete defense, the risks of leaving Jaskier unattended — of which past experience had proven were many — really paled in comparison to a Devourer attack.

Rather, an attack by multiple Devourers, at the same bloody time, with the tenacity of a pack of wild wolves. The flesh-craving beasts showed little interest in a Witcher’s mutated blood. They wanted human flesh, and human alone. A reign of terror stretching on for weeks before Geralt happened upon the poor mining village in the mountains made that clear enough. People could no longer venture from their homes without risk of being torn to bits by a sulking monster. Geralt’s arrival was a blessing to them. Jaskier’s presence — for, having hit a creative dry spell, he'd been following Geralt for the last few weeks, to “fan the flames of inspiration” — was just convenient.

Geralt never liked using the bard as bait. This had nothing to do with any moral qualms; any time Jaskier involved himself in a kill, things got complicated. He simple had a talent for getting in the way. Trouble was drawn to him like a magnet; rather than avoid it, the idiot almost seemed to invite it. Geralt tried to keep Jaskier out of the way during jobs because bailing him out of danger was more trouble than any amount of coin was worth.

That, and he’d rather not see his companion be mauled or swallowed whole by a monster.

Sometimes, however, Jaskier’s presence during a job could actually be useful. Like it or not, Geralt had to put him to work.

“This isn’t my first time playing irresistibly seductive meat-sack, you know,” huffed the meat-sack in question, carefully fastening his lute to a pack strung along Roach’s side. When Jaskier looked up at Geralt, his eyes glittered. Whatever thrill he got from being in mortal peril, it was probably worrying. “Practically used to it by now. Could make it a profession. Thank the gods I’m here, too, or what else would you have done? Picked up a nice, juicy steak from the market, and dressed it up like a toddler?”

Geralt snorted, unsheathing a dagger from his belt. It was a small, silver-bladed thing — better for throwing than stabbing, though it could be useful at close range. The hilt was almost too small for his hands. In Jaskier’s, it fit perfectly.

“Only if you need it,” he said. Jaskier gripped the blade, eyes wide with fascination, before nodding and tucking it into his own belt. “Quick slashes. If you have to stab, stab deep.”

Of course, Jaskier couldn’t fight, and he certainly didn’t stand a chance against a monster… but at least he wouldn’t be completely helpless.

So, Jaskier was sent on ahead, and did what he did best — played the oblivious fool. Only when he’d blustered along the mountainside for about ten minutes, leading Roach along as the Witcher silently trailed them both, did their plan show signs of success. In the distance, a few rocks shifted. Pebbles rolled down the mountainside. The faint trill of birdsong went quiet.

Jaskier had been humming to himself, but his voice cut off abruptly. His head raised; he glanced around. That was all he had time to do before a blur suddenly shot out of the cave, launching itself at him.

And another, and another — more than Geralt expected.

In a few swift bounds, he was in the middle of the fray, cutting Devourers down in midair. This was just enough time for the bait to make his escape. With the battle begun, Jaskier leapt on top of Roach and sped off — “somewhere safe”, Geralt had told him.

So maybe Geralt was the fool, for assuming the hapless bard could look after himself. At any rate, he trusted Roach to keep Jaskier out of trouble; the horse always had more sense than he did, anyhow.

An hour, maybe, or less — that’s how long it took for Geralt, covered in Devourer blood and a few new scratches, to follow the trail his horse and companion left, only to come up empty handed. Not being able to hear Jaskier’s annoying caterwaul was the first sign of trouble. Coming across a lute in the bushes, smashed and abandoned, was the second.

Picking up the remnants of the familiar instrument, Geralt’s hands tightened around the wood; he sighed through his nose, barely able to restrain his own frustration.

Served him right for letting Jaskier near his bloody horse... and letting them both out of his sight.

Witcher senses were better honed for tracking than even the most astute hunter. It also helped that the bandits didn’t bother to cover their tracks well. The left a trail of broken twigs, snapped branches, and footprints behind them. However much of a head start the group — Geralt counted five sets of footprints, maybe six — had on him, it didn’t take long to track them down.

Even so, it took long enough. Too long.

He could smell the blood before the noises reached his ears. Perhaps the senses hit at the same time, and he just didn’t register; as soon as that metallic tang hit his nose, all-too-familiar, Geralt saw red. Blood meant nothing on its own, but this blood held a familiar scent — he’d recognize it anywhere. It was as familiar to him as that annoying voice, or that smirk any time Jaskier said something he thought was particularly funny. Blood could belong to anyone, but Jaskier’s blood was his, and Geralt could smell a lot of it.

Blood, and noise, and shouting — not Jaskier’s voice, but a stranger’s rough tone, spitting venom in a language Geralt faintly recognizes. A horse’s frustrated wail. Sharpening blades. And underneath it all… a strangled whimper.

Geralt found the bandits’ campsite.

As for whatever happened at the campsite… well, he couldn’t be held responsible.

By the time the last of the thieves took off running into the forest, stumbling over himself in horror, the bandits’ camp was utterly quiet. Before his body hit the tree, the big one had been making an awful lot of noise. So was the quick one, when he hissed at Geralt and tried to draw his sword; thankfully, Geralt was quicker. Now, in the silence, with nothing but his heavy breathing as he came back to awareness, Geralt could see everything.

Roach was unharmed, tied to a tree. She stomped her feet as Geralt came closer, as if applauding his quick work… but Geralt’s attention turned in a second, from her to the other side of the clearing. Silence reigned there as well, and it was unnerving.

Jaskier was never silent. Jaskier didn’t know how to be silent.

The figure slumped against the base of the tree, chest bound with rope and head bowed, did not make a sound.

The stench of blood grew overwhelming the closer Geralt got. He had to force himself not to focus on it. Instead, he honed in on Jaskier’s heart, beating a steady rhythm in his chest. Not faltering, not stuttering — he was alive, then. Unconsciously, a sigh of relief escaped Geralt, loud in the silent woods.

Then he saw the blood staining a head of dark hair, trailing down Jaskier’s jaw.

“Shit.” Immediately, he dropped to one knee, hand finding his companion’s shoulder. The battered captive’s face scrunched you in pain when Geralt gripped it. “Jaskier. Hey! Jaskier.” Unwilling to hurt him any further, Geralt shook his companion lightly. “Wake up.”

It was just enough — or maybe the pain from Geralt’s touch pulled him back into wakefulness. Jaskier stirred, head sluggishly rolling on his shoulders. For a moment, he struggled to lift it, as though his skull were filled with lead rather than gray matter. When he finally managed, he blinked sluggishly up at Geralt, pupils blown wide. Concussion, then, Geralt thought, and had to bite back another curse.

“Ah hah — the mighty Witcher!” Jaskier’s head fell back like a doll’s; still, he offered Geralt a wide grin. His teeth were stained with blood, from the busted corner of his lip. “Knew you’d come for me. It was only a matter of time. Caught about half that fight, I think. Just half. Til you threw that one lad down the hill.”

Was it any surprise that even half-senseless, Jaskier still didn’t know how to shut up? Geralt just took it as a good sign that he was talking. While the bard blathered on, he busied himself checking Jaskier over for further injuries. His shoulder was probably dislocated; he’d have some colorful bruises in the morning; there were a few deep scratches along his face and bare forearms, like he’d been dragged through brush…

“Mmm. Geralt. Hey.” Jaskier’s movement was sudden — like a marionette unable to control his own limbs, his arm raised, landing heavily on Geralt’s shoulder. When Geralt looked up, Jaskier’s head was lolling to the side. He seemed to be putting in a valiant effort to stay awake. Half opened eyes remained trained on Geralt, warm with an emotion Geralt could not name, but left him feeling immensely guilty. He should have gotten here sooner. He shouldn’t have let Jaskier out of his sight in the first place.

“Look,” said Jaskier — and, very deliberately, nodded towards the thug still crumpled at the base of a nearby tree. The tree’s trunk had a dent in it. Geralt wished he’d thrown him harder. “In the pockets,” insisted Jaskier, giving Geralt a weak push of encouragement.

Bemused, Geralt made his way over; hoisting the thug’s body up by the back of his jacket, he shook him out for any spare bits. A shower of gold pieces greeted him, along with a pair of rings… and a silver-bladed dagger, stained with blood. Geralt lifted the familiar blade, frowning at it. When his gaze turned to Jaskier again, a grin, bleary but proud, greeted him.

“Jus’ like you said,” Jaskier slurred, then let out a dry crackle of laughter. “I stabbed ‘im deep. And they did not appreciate that, let me tell you —“

“Damn it, Jaskier,” Geralt muttered, hand tightening around the blade.

Yet another mistake to tally for the day. Giving Jaskier a weapon was supposed to keep him out of trouble, not damn him deeper.

Without bothering to clean it off, Geralt rounded on Jaskier, blade clutched in his hands. Jaskier’s unfocused gaze tracked his approach with obvious effort. However hard he was trying to stay awake, he was fighting a losing battle. Even so, not a flicker of fear crossed Jaskier’s face at the sight of a hulking Witcher, advancing with a blade in hand.

Geralt cut Jaskier’s bonds in a few quick strokes. As soon as he was no longer bound to the tree, Jaskier slumped forward. It took Geralt’s quickest reflexes to lurch sideways, catching him before he could hit the ground. A dead weight in his arms, Jaskier let out a small moan.

“What is it?” Geralt demanded. As he shifted the injured man into an easier position, Jaskier inhaled sharply, face twisting up in pain. Another groan sounded through clenched teeth, but a second later Jaskier forced a strained smile.

“Kicked me in the chest — more than once.”

Geralt didn’t need to test the statement any further. As gently as he was capable of being, he eased Jaskier back against the tree. Broken ribs would be more of a headache than all of Jaskier’s other injuries combined, but hopefully he didn’t shatter so easily. Human bodies were so fragile; Geralt saw it every day, of course, in the remains of men torn apart by monsters. Seeing it firsthand was different. Seeing Jaskier, of all people, wounded and in pain… something in Geralt’s chest was drawn tight, like a clenched fist, and the more his companion swallowed back sounds of pain, the tighter it got.

“Better get you up, then,” he muttered. Jaskier nodded, face still screwed up. A long moment passed before his hand tightened on Geralt’s shoulder, and it took yet another moment before he managed to hoist himself upright.

Finding his feet was another challenge. Geralt did his best to offer support without brutalizing Jaskier’s injuries further. No sooner did he pull himself up, however, than Jaskier began to teeter. When his gaze slipped out of focus, Geralt’s arm twined around him. He caught him just as Jaskier’s knees began to buckle.

A yell shattered the illusion of quiet around them, ripping through Jaskier’s body like a physical attack. As fresh pain rippled through his chest, he shoved away from Geralt, who released him without protest. For a moment, it seemed certain that Jaskier would topple. His breathing heavy, each gasp an effort that nearly knocked him sideways, he finally managed to find his feet. Wide eyed, he gazed at Geralt, twisting a protective arm around his chest.

“I’m — I’m okay.” Jaskier put a hand up. “I’m fine. But next time — next time I fall, Geralt, don’t bother catching me.”

Geralt arched an eyebrow. In response, Jaskier shook his head. “I can manage on my own.”

And to his credit, he did. He managed to get on Roach, at least, and the horse carried him back the rest of the way. Jaskier didn’t lose consciousness once, no matter how his head lolled or his senses drifted. Geralt didn’t mind the slurred ramblings, weaving their way through utter nonsense. Only when Jaskier went silent did he worry. Each time, he looked up to find his friend fading, blue eyes half-shut, head falling against his shoulder. Geralt gave a bruising pinch to the flesh of his arm, and Jaskier awoke again.

The nearest inn was a night’s ride from their campsite, and it was getting dark already. By the time they made it back, there seemed little sense going any further, especially with Jaskier in his state. He fell into his bed as soon as Geralt had it laid out on the ground, and did not have the energy to raise his head, even when Geralt offered him a sip of much-needed water.

“‘M fine,” Jaskier muttered. His muted tone suggested he was anything but; Geralt wouldn’t argue, though, if rest was really what Jaskier needed.

“We need to set your shoulder,” he remarked, keeping his voice low for Jaskier’s benefit. “And clean the blood from your head. That wound ought to be bandaged.”

Jaskier nodded along slowly, as thought everything Geralt was saying made perfect sense. His eyes were closed, expression unchanging, so however much he really understood was anyone’s guess. Frowning, Geralt took the liberty of wetting a cloth himself. Hesitating for just long enough to wonder which decisions in his life brought him to this point — to caring so deeply for someone so easily breakable, so human — he set the cloth against Jaskier’s bloodied face. As the grime was sponged away, Jaskier could not help but sigh in relief.

“That’s the stuff,” he muttered. “All I need. Just… rest, Geralt? Can we? Is that okay?”

Geralt considered him for a moment. “Yes, Jaskier. We can rest awhile.”

This was all he needed to hear. Jaskier smiled, setting his head back down on his pack once more; as his eyes drifted shut, Geralt fought off an instinctive flash of worry. Hand tightening around the damp cloth, he brought it back to Jaskier’s face, and continued cleaning the remnants of that bloody encounter.

Next time they faced down monsters, he might think twice about letting Jaskier out of his sight… but no matter what trouble he fell into, Geralt would always be there to pull him out.

#whump #jaskier #the witcher #kidnapping #geralt not sure how to be gentle with a hurt jaskier?? also my shit #Anonymous

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crystaljins · 5 years

Text

A long journey home | 02 FINAL

Characters: Taehyung x Reader

Word count: 12.2K

Synopsis: All you wanted was to confront your flaky coworker, Taehyung, not get dragged across a magical fantasy realm trying to deliver a baby dragon safely back to its home kingdom.

Fantasy!au

Notes: Actually I don’t have much to say. But hey, we all love a finished fic, don’t we?

1 | 2

It is easy enough to pick up horses and proper clothes and supplies at the next town. It takes a bit of convincing to get Taehyung to buy you your own bed roll.

“Why can’t we share?” He had whined. “Weren’t you comfortable? Plus we’ve done it before.”

“Don’t press her too hard lad, it’s better to give the missus a bit o’ space when she’s upset with you.” The shop clerk had warned him. Being mistaken for your husband had put him in a good enough mood that you were able to coax him into purchasing the second bedroll.

“It’s better to have two just in case! Besides, we can still share if it gets too cold.” You had reluctantly pointed out as he made the purchase. That left him beaming, at least.

Once you set out, Taehyung moves quickly because there is no doubt in his mind that the lizard men are still after the three of you. Probably more- apparently the whole race is on a wild hunt, attempting to capture the prince for their queen. You have five days left and the horses will greatly reduce the travel time. You have ridden horses before- your uncle owned a ranch and you had spent every summer there since you were very small. But you have never ridden for such long periods over long distances and it is a painful and hard slog. But you make good time and Taehyung informs you that you will probably make it to the draconian kingdom with a few days to spare. He cheerfully informs you of all the places he plans to take you sight-seeing. Most of the places sound strange and exotic and you find yourself sharing in his cautious optimism. He’s been in such a good mood ever since that night by the fire and it’s contagious- you find yourself smiling despite the discomfort of the past few days of travel.

Tata chirps where he is seated on Taehyung’s saddle with him, surprised by Taehyung suddenly sliding off his horse and dismounting. You have your horse halt as well, confused.

“What’s wrong?” You question. Taehyung squints at the long road ahead. There is a cliff side and it seems the dirt path curves and runs parallel to the cliff’s edge. It’s beautiful, like scenery straight from a movie- distantly you can here the crash of waves as they collide with the cliff face far below. Ahead of you the sea extends in a deep blue blanket until the distant horizon.

“This road is known as the Road of the Oceans Song. This is where sirens gather at the cliff face below and lure unprepared travellers to their death with their song. Unfortunately, we are those unprepared travellers and I only have one pair of enchanted earplugs to fend against their song. You can’t get these anywhere and we don’t have time to get another pair. And we’re going on foot from here because it’s harder to do anything if you’re on a horse. So you will be walking with your hand tied to mine the whole way and any frivolous behaviour will earn you a spanking.” He informs you, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a pair of said enchanted earplugs.

At your dubious and unimpressed look he laughs.

“I’m joking. It just means I’m going to make sure you can’t get away from me for the next couple of hours, beautiful. It seems you won the lottery today.” He tells you with a wink before sliding the ear plugs into place. “Let’s test it out. I should be able to hear fine but be immune to their song- say something charming.” He requests.

“Kim Taehyung is a menace to society and smells like feet.” You announce. He grins at you.

“Oh darling, you’re too sweet. Nothing like praise from my beloved to give me the strength to carry on this long, difficult journey.” He hums cheerfully, before extending his hand. “Come on, then.”

“Why can’t I wear the ear plugs?” You ask. He grimaces.

“Well, I’d love to save you from the agony of their song and honestly the thought of you desiring someone other than me even if it’s only for a couple of hours sound positively horrifying.” He tells you. You grimace at his words. He continues on, unbothered like he is for most things. “But yes. I can most definitely overpower you and would probably drag us both and the horses to our deaths if I were bewitched. Tata would survive though.” Tata cheers his agreement. You nod and sigh.

“Ok, fine. Do your worst.” You say, brandishing both hands at him as if you expect him to suddenly handcuff you. He chuckles before reaching into his bag and pulling out a ribbon. You stare at incredulously. “You mean you had time and money to buy that but not a second pair of earplugs?”

He shrugs.

“I didn’t want any rough rope scraping your wrists! You humans are so fragile and chafe so easily. And the enchanted earplugs can only be produced by a mage who lives three months journey from here across the sea. So yes, I had time to buy the ribbon and not the earplugs.” He tells you, winding it around your wrist and then his. “Also, it’s a gift.” He says it quickly and if you didn’t know better you would say he was blushing as he says it. But he also made a joke about spanking you with a completely straight face earlier and so you don’t think he is capable of blushing. “For you to tie your hair back once we get past here. You were complaining about it getting in the way when we went into town and I’d hate for you to cut it off.”

“Oh.” You say. “Thank you.”

He offers you a smile. Then his expression turns serious.

“Their song will be agonising. You will do anything and everything to get to them, and so I apologise for whatever I do to you over the next couple of hours. Know that it’s to protect you and my decisions were made under duress, ok?” He warns you. You shake your head to comfort him.

“I trust you.” You say dismissively, because you do. He may be cheeky and overly flirty, but he’s proven himself as someone you can trust. Though you whinge and complain constantly, deep down you know you’d jump off that cliff if Taehyung told you it was safe to do so. Because he wouldn’t allow any harm to come to you. He had promised.

Taehyung’s expression scrunches.

“Hold on tight.” He says. “Tata if you see any funny business from her, let me know, ok?” He tells the little dragon. He nods his head sternly and you are reminded of a little toddler. He clambers onto your shoulder and with the thicker clothes you are wearing his claws aren’t as uncomfortable. He offers you a low growl to let you know he’s keeping a close watch. You laugh.

“Alright, alright. Keep me in line, ok little guy?” You say. He chirps.

Taehyung walks slowly and cautiously at first. The first 15 minutes or so you hear nothing but the steady stream of conversation he keeps up. Tata keeps glancing around nervously, his gaze catching on random things like he’s seeing something you can’t. It’s a little unnerving. It wouldn’t bother you if it weren’t for the way Taehyung grips your hand so tightly it is almost painful despite you being tied together. The horses follow obediently, almost sleepy in the warm sun. You wish you could enjoy the scenery, but as time goes on, Taehyung grows more and more tense.

You don’t even notice the shift when it happens at first. Their song is almost as innocuous as the wind whistling through the air and the crash of waves far beneath you. You find yourself humming along before you even realise that you can hear it.

“Darling,” Taehyung calls warningly. “Watch yourself. It will only get worse from here.” Tata tightens his claws from where they cling to your shoulders and wraps his long scarlet tail around you. You nod absently, still straining your ears to discern the faint melody.

“Ok.” You say and your voice sounds strange and foreign to your own ears. A bit airy and distracted. He offers you a tense smile and continues to tug you along in a rapid stride. The gravel crunches beneath your feet and even that is louder than the song you can barely hear.

Then it grows louder. You can’t discern any words- it is not in a language you speak, but it’s oddly haunting. Like a sea shanty with a sad ending. The melody curls and sings through the air, winding and not quite eerie. Just beautiful… enchanting. You feel an odd tug in the centre of your chest and you don’t realise you had been drifting away from Taehyung side until a firm tug from him pulls you back in close. Tata offers a warning nip and the horses are beginning to get antsy. Taehyung has gone pale and sweat begins to bead at his temple. His eyebrows knit together as he watches you. He seems rather afraid.

“We just have to keep going- can you do that for me sweetheart?” He questions. You nod with a dreamy smile. You feel a little bit like you’re tipsy- wobbly and a bit euphoric. Your cheeks are warm- the sea below would offer a pleasant coolness to the warmth rolling off you. “What did I say earlier about the song?” He interrogates.

“That it would be agonising?” You recall, nose scrunching with the effort. It seems like a distant dream now. “It doesn’t seem so bad though- I’d rather like to meet a siren, I think? Are they beautiful?”

“They can’t compare to you.” Taehyung answers, though it is terse. His grip tightens and you cry out.

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” You complain although admittedly you are playing it up a little because you are hoping he’ll let you go long enough for you to have a little peek over the edge. Just a peek.

“Sorry.” Taehyung answers and his grip lightens just the slightest bit but he does not let you go.

The song grows in intensity, and like the sultry throbbing of a club beat you can feel it thrum in your chest- in the very centre of your being. You are certain you have heard nothing more beautiful in your life- you just want to see the creatures that could produce such a sound. Thick and syrupy and sweet to your ears. It’s like the most pleasant dream. Would they welcome you into their depths, were you to peer over and shout your greeting? The drop does not seem that far.

“I really want to meet them, Tae,” You beg. He grimaces. “What would it take for you to allow me just a little peek?”

“Nothing.” He tells you. “I don’t like to share, sorry sweetheart. No sirens get you today.”

That irritates you, for some reason. Not because of the implication that you are his to share (though perhaps when more coherent that would bother you), but because of his constant refusals to allow you to see them. You can think of nothing you want more in life, but he’s refusing you. The thought is agonising- how could he deprive you of such a vital need? It feels like he is denying you the oxygen to your lungs. It hurts you to be apart from them- tears begin to fill your eyes.

“Please!” You gasp. He risks a glance at you and your tear-stricken expression and his expression goes hard.

“No.” He says firmly, though he avoids your gaze. Perhaps if you can get him to look at you he will take pity and allow you to see them? You sniffle and wipe hastily at your eyes with your free arm. He watches you cautiously, as though afraid of what you will try next. You step in close until you could probably count each individual lash that frames his dark eyes. Would the sirens have dark, hypnotic eyes like he does? His expression is guarded, though his grip on you goes loose at your proximity. Even if you were to dart away you are still tied firmly to him, after all.

“Hello,” He says softly, though uneasily. His gaze darts away.

“Tae,” You plead, because you know he likes it when you use his nickname. “I just want one little favour,” You point out. “Is that really so hard?”

“It’s very difficult.” He answers through gritted teeth. “Keep walking.” He demands and adjusts your pace until the two of you are near sprinting. You almost swear in anguish- how will you get to him and join the sirens beneath when he is setting such a fast pace? At this rate you will pass them all by! You dig your heels into the ground but Tae is far stronger than you and so all you achieve is him yanking you forward so forcefully you begin to stumble. His eyes go wide and he releases the horses just in time to catch you. You both stagger and he falls so that he lands on his back with you on top of him. Taehyung grunts in pain but you are too distracted to notice- is this your opening to convince him? The siren’s song is still just as hauntingly beautiful but the longer you deny its call the more it morphs into anguished demands that Taehyung is refusing to allow you to meet. He struggles to sit up but you shift so that he is pinned beneath you. No doubt with his superior strength he could lift you, but for a moment he just stares up at you, immobilised. Tata clambers down off your shoulder and hisses something at the horses- they stop their antsy tossing and go still.

“Tae,” You say. “I’ve never wanted anything more. Please let me see them.” Tears begin to pool and drip down your cheeks- they land on him and he flinches as each drop lands on him. “It’s so painful, Tae,” You begin to sob, because honestly the siren’s song has escalated to agonised screeching and you feel you could end the pain if you just peered over and looked at them. “I just really, really, want to see them.” Taehyung’s expression goes soft and he lifts the arm that isn’t bound to you to gently wipe away your tears. It is unfair of you to use your proximity as you do, to try and sway him, and he did not know how weak he was to the warmth of your body against his until that moment. Still, to allow you to get what you wanted would be to allow you die, and he cannot do that.

“In like, ten minutes, you’re going to thank me.” He tells you. “But for now, we’re going to do things the hard way.”

And then he forces you off him and hoists you up onto his shoulder. You screech in agony and struggle, but he has a firm grip, crying out obscenities.

The scream dies in your throat once you are out of earshot of the sirens. Instead it is replaced with crippling embarrassment.

“It’s not that bad!” Taehyung calls out to you. You do not acknowledge him, continuing to urge your horse to maintain a good few metres ahead of him. You hear him urge his horse to move faster and with a clatter of hooves he pulls up next to you. Tata naps in the saddle bag, bored with the constant scenery. “It’s sweet- you’re sweet.” He reassures you kindly. You still cannot look him in the eyes.

“Thanks, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.” You retort drily, your gaze still fixed determinedly ahead. Taehyung deflates.

“Hey, if your life weren’t at stake, you really would have convinced me to go see the sirens!” He points out. “I almost caved a few times there- be proud of your incredible abilities of persuasion- they almost rival the sirens.”

You flush and are about to urge your horse to canter further ahead, but Taehyung reaches out and catches your reigns.

“Hey,” He calls warmly. “I know you’re embarrassed and I’m sorry you had to go through that. This is the quickest way to the kingdom. And honestly, you didn’t do anything that embarrassing!” He reassures you. You grimace.

“Can we just, move on from this? I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” You sniff. He grins widely.

“I’m fine with that. You won’t hear a word of it from me.” He says, holding his hand against his chest. “We can talk about something else instead- the next little leg of the journey is really enjoyable I prom-“

He cuts his words short and his eyes go very wide.

“W-what’s wrong?” You demand, panicked by the sudden distress in his expression.

“Dismount.” He orders, clambering off the horse. You follow suit. He murmurs something under his breath to the horse, scooping Tata’s sleeping form into his arms. He murmurs to your horse as well before clapping them both on their rumps. They set off at a canter, with all your supplies in tow. You gape for a moment.

“Tae,” You cry. “What- Why did you do that?” You demand.

“They’ll meet us at the next town- I cast a homing spell on both of them. Horses are too inconspicuous and we need to shake our followers.” He admits. “We’re being tracked.” He tells you in a low voice. Your heart leaps into your throat.

“H-how do you know?” You stutter, unconsciously drifting closer to him. He gives you a look and you grimace- right. His enhanced abilities or whatever.

“Just stay close, ok? I’ll keep you both safe.” He promises you, his arms curling protectively around Tata’s sleeping form. At his urging, you both scurry off the road, moving rapidly towards a clutter of trees in the distance. “I had hoped to avoid getting separated.” He confesses to you as you realise the clutter of trees is actually a forest. “But we have no other way to lose them or throw them off our trail.” He admits. “Sweetheart, this next leg of the journey is very dangerous.” He confesses. You are gasping for breath at the near sprinting rate he has set, but nod to show you’ve heard him. “If… if anything happens to me, I need you to take Tata, ok? Hide in that forest for a few days and don’t stop moving and then go back to the town that road was leading us to. Tata will know the way home once you get to the next town. And the dragon king will help you get home.” He tells you, and something in his voice has you on edge.

“Why would anything happen to you?” You question urgently.

He doesn’t answer. More accurately, he isn’t given the chance to answer, for he throws himself to the side just in time for an arrow, a real, actual arrow, to whiz past and embed itself in the ground where he had been about to step. You stumble back in shock and lose your balance. Taehyung is more coordinated than you- he rolls as he falls, and springs back so that he’s on all fours.

A horn sounds behind you and you turn your head- at the crest of the hill you have just run across, three lizard men mounted on strange feathered beasts watch you. The one in the centre is blowing into a strange instrument- something rather like a dear antler, with two feathered wings on either side. These lizards are different to the ones who had kept you captive for two days. Those men had shimmered green when they revealed their faces but these three are a brilliant blue. Their attire seems more formal as well- the closest you have to compare it to is perhaps a military uniform.

Beside you, Taehyung says a word that isn’t in your language but you suspect may be some sort of swear. You both get to your feet. Taehyung hands you Tata, who is now awake and frightened, and holds an arm protectively out in front of you.

“You did well to follow me this far,” Taehyung observes, as the feathered beasts carry their mounts closer. They are sort of similar to horses, but rather than hooves they have thick, well-muscled talons that cut into the earth and stir the soil as they come closer and the way they move is almost cat like. Their heads are round with thick horns curling around their temples and long, golden beaks protrude from their muzzles.

“We are the finest hunters the Queen has to offer. Finding you was child’s play.” The lizardman who had used the strange instruments points out. Instinctively, you hug Tata’s small, prone form into you and he whimpers in fear.

“Over my dead body will she have him.” Taehyung answers, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

“That is exactly our intention.” The lizardman answers.

“Run.” Taehyung hisses to you. Your eyes go wide.

“What?” You ask. He turns to you and his eyes are anguished and distressed.

“Go. I’ll find you.” He says.

And then the beasts launch their attack.

They go for Taehyung, all three of them, and he vanishes beneath a whirl of feathers and bulky muscles. You cry out, but Tata growls, reminding you that you are useless in this situation. The lizardmen haven’t even deemed you worthy of attention at this stage- once Taehyung is disabled, catching you will be easier than ‘child’s play’. The only thing you can do is trust him. Nodding shakily at Tata and feeling tears pool in your eyes, you set him down on the ground and the two of you sprint desperately for the tree line, leaving Taehyung behind. The sounds of chaos and fighting fade behind you.

As soon as you cross the tree-line, the forest seems to fold around you like a protective blanket, but you and Tata do not stop sprinting. The air is clean and earthy, and the only sound is your harsh, desperate pants. You do not know where you are going or how you will get out. Those men are hunters and could probably track you down but you do not even know how to cover your tracks. You are Taehyung’s last resort. Perhaps if he’d been travelling alone with Tata, he could have moved faster, and travelled for longer. You wouldn’t have been slowed down by the journey through the Road of the Ocean’s Song. He wouldn’t have lost time rescuing you in that cave. He’d probably be at the Draconian Kingdom by now, enjoying the sites and planning his next journey to this realm.

Instead he may not even be alive and you, a mere office worker, are trapped alone in a forest with a dragon and no idea of where to go or how to get out. Tears dribble down your face. How could things have come to this?

Beside you, Tata stops running and trills loudly to get your attention. You skid to a stop and turn to look at him. He gazes up at you with determination in his earthy green irises, and he gestures his head to your left. He then sets the path, leading you away. Great. You’re so incompetent the baby dragon had to take the lead.

You are much quieter now and slow to a walk as you and Tata wonder through the forest. The air is dusky and thick and the ground beneath you spongy. Dark emerald leaves hang into the path Tata leads you through. You wipe stubbornly at your tears as you go, though your heart still cries out in anguish. Is he safe? Did those monsters defeat him? He had promised he would keep you safe but you didn’t know that involved sacrificing himself. You recall Tata’s prior guardians. They had died on his behalf. Was that what the weight of a promise meant amongst Taehyung’s people? Nausea rolls in your stomach and you swallow to quell the burning sensation of bile rising up in your throat. Your lungs still burn from your desperate sprint and sweat soaks into your clothes.

“What now, Tata?” You ask despondently, though the little dragon cannot respond in a language you understand. He does, however, pause. He turns and in the emerald light of the forest, his scales turn him into a brilliant mobile flame, one that clamber up your leg and grips onto you so that he can stare into your eyes. Tata has always preferred to communicate through his little chirps and coos but as he stares deeply into your eyes, you feel a sense of calm wash over you that you don’t think comes from yourself. Stay calm, he seems to be saying. He hadn’t been able to do that at the start of your journey, that much is certain. Your features soften. He’s right though- you must stay calm. There’s no use wondering around this forest in tears. Taehyung wouldn’t have sent you off on your own if he didn’t trust you. You’re an adult, and you can problem solve.

“I got you, buddy.” You say softly, and the gentle smile you offer the dragon prince has him almost purring in delight. He leaps off your shoulder and extends his wings in a stretch. Taehyung had told you that one day, when Tata is fully grown, his wings would be able to carry him over mountains with just one swipe, but for the moment they are delicate little membranes that do little more then help him keep balance. He’s so fragile and small, even though his legacy is such a fearsome, magnificent creature. You wouldn’t leave a baby to fend for itself if you knew bad people were after it, and the same courtesy extends to Tata.

The first thing you do is search for somewhere to shelter. Somewhere you and Tata can huddle for the night. Taehyung had said he would find you, and if he is still alive, he will. Moving around too much will make it difficult for him to find you, but it will also make it difficult for your pursuers to find you. The compromise is to travel as far into the forest as you dare to go in the daylight, and then settle for the night. You pause every so often to check for signs of anyone following you, but Taehyung either kept them sufficiently distracted or they cannot find you.

Eventually you find a place to settle for the night. You do not have your bedroll since it was tied to your horse, and you don’t have anything to light a fire with for Tata- not that you would be game enough to give away your position like that. Instead the two of you find a small alcove, where an overhanging rock provides a meagre amount of shelter and the shrubbery that surrounds it conceals you from the view of anyone who may walk by. Tata curls into your lap and you huddle together in the confined space. It isn’t the most comfortable, but at least you feel secure.

Sleep does not come to you that night. Every rustle could be one of the lizardmen or it could be Taehyung, and just as you think you may fall asleep, you snap awake at the slightest crack of a twig. At one point a spider crawls on your arm and you do not know how you stop yourself from screaming. Tata eats it, and you spend the rest of the night in tears, flinching at the crawling feeling against your skin even though Tata keeps watch for any further bugs that may scare you.

The thought occurs to you in your exhausted, fearful delirium- you could just go home. Leave Tata to fend for himself and ask someone how to get to the human realm. It had been Taehyung to promise that he would deliver Tata safely home, not you, and you are not part of a mythical race that must keep its promises. You’re just a cowardly human who got in over her head. If anyone were to believe the absurd tale you told them, you’re sure they wouldn’t blame you for taking the easy road out. Tata is a capable little guy and it’s hard to find a tiny little dragon. He’d probably be able to make the last little leg of the journey safely. You don’t even know if Taehyung is alive. And sure, he had saved your life a few times, but you were only in danger because of him in the first place. And when considering all the times you’d covered for him at work, you were well within your rights to just bail. Forget about him and Tata and this entire realm and go back to your easy, day-to-day office life. It would be easier. Less scary. Less dangerous.

You don’t want to though. The thought of betraying his trust like that feels like you are considering prying your own heart out of your chest with your bare fingers. Not just because you’re betraying Taehyung, but because you are betraying Tata too. It has only been a few days, less than a week. So it is foolish to be so strongly attached to them. Are you really willing to risk your life for a dragon you met a few days ago and your flaky coworker?

You are. You’re prepared to do whatever it takes to see this through and while that scares you, it also calms you. It doesn’t matter how foolish, how scary, how naive it is to put everything on the line for those two- it feels right. You’ve always tried to live your life with as few regrets as possible and you know you will have zero regrets as long as you do everything you can to get Tata home. You tug his scaly little body in closer and curl around him.

“We will give Taehyung until tomorrow.” You whisper. “If not, then we set off for your kingdom tomorrow, ok, Tata?”

Tata lets out a soft little growl, a sad noise of acknowledgement and agreement. It is sad, for such a young creature, to have a noise of such resignation and sadness, but that is what the situation has driven him to.

You aren’t like Taehyung. You don’t have enhanced abilities and promises only hold as much value as you decide. You don’t have an obligation to help every creature that asks it of you. Still, you see the value of a promise.

“Tata, I’ll get you home safe, little guy.” You promise. He looks up at you with those soothing, earthy green irises. “I promise.”

He makes a contented noise, similar to a purr, and falls asleep shortly after that.

Though you wait until the sun is high in the sky and the air thick with the warmth of early afternoon, Taehyung does not show up. You are worried sick- is he safe? Is he alive? But you are not allowed the luxury of answering those questions, and to wait any longer would be to endanger both you and Tata. And to have waited as long as you do is already dangerous enough. You set off quickly, in the same urgent but cautious way in which you travelled before. Tata seems to know which way to go, slithering through the underbrush like a snake. A few times you see hints of the lizardmen scouring the forest for you, which makes your heart sink because it means Taehyung probably did not defeat your attackers. But you never come across them and you safely clear the forest before the day is up.

You do not return to the main path- it is dangerous and open and obvious for you to go that way, and no doubt the lizards and their strange feathered mounts are scouring the main road and the towns for you. They’ve probably taken your horses too (though Taehyung had said that there is a treaty that prevents their entry into human towns so your horses may still be safe.). Rather than travel along the road, you travel as far west of it as you can manage while still keeping its course in the periphery of your vision.

Tata is helpful- without Taehyung’s enhanced senses, you are a sitting duck, but Tata has learnt to listen for travellers passing by and has gotten good at communicating to you when you need to hide. He spends the whole time invisible and the only reason you know he is still with you is when you feel his claws digging into your boots when he wants you to hide.

Travelling is slow and it takes you a full day to reach the town that Taehyung told you about. You sneak in under the cover of night, wondering how you might go about searching for your horses. You are safe within city limits as long as Tata remains invisible and out of sight, but you are still on edge. You will trade Taehyung’s horse for supplies and money, you think. Maybe a weapon- not that you’d know how to use it, but you’d feel better knowing you aren’t entirely helpless should the lizardmen find you again.

You are lucky- at the inn, you find your horses tied up and waiting for you. The innkeeper tells you that travellers do it all the time, sending their horses ahead, but he didn’t think it would take you so long to arrive. Tentatively, you ask him how you might go about selling one of your horses. The innkeeper promises to help you in the morning and shoos you away into the room you managed to book with the coins from the saddle bag of Taehyung’s horse. You had secretly been hoping only your horse would be there, because it at least would mean Taehyung had retrieved his mount and is alive, but it seems that is not the case. You really are on your own for this leg of the journey.

You end up sleeping until late in the day. Perhaps Tata senses your exhaustion for he does not rouse you like he normally would if he think you’ve been sleeping too long. Instead, you awaken to find it is late afternoon and you have a mere two days to get Tata home before his coronation. That realisation leaves you antsy and afraid. The innkeeper senses it.

“Are you going to see the Falls, traveller? It’s rare to see a human, nowadays, especially on their own.” He questions, as he examines the soundness of Taehyung’s horse. He’s happy to buy it off you in exchange for travel supplies and a knife his daughter used to use when she lived in the village.

“The Falls?” You question. He nods.

“It’s really all anyone passes through this town is here to see. They say it’s the entrance to the Draconian kingdom, if you believe in that sort of stuff, but none of us lesser beings has been able to access it.” He says. You nod, fidgeting with the torn and tattered ribbon in your hair.

“How long will it take to get there?” You ask. He shrugs.

“With your horse, if you’re comfortable riding, about a half a day east? It may take longer if the road is flooded, which happens on occasion.” He tells you. You thank him for his help and hospitability and waste no time in setting off. You have every intention of riding for as long as you can and if the lizardmen capture you, you will send Tata on his own. You’ll distract them long enough for him to get away and by then he should be close enough to his kingdom that he can make it.

Perhaps the worst part of the journey as you desperately traverse the countryside is Taehyung’s absence. You had not realised the extent to which you depended on him not just for safety, but for companionship and hope. You would get home, you had thought, as long as Taehyung was beside you. He would make sure of it. He had promised it, and he had proved it when he saved you from that frost demon. When he had tied you to his hand so that you would not fall victim to the Siren’s song. This journey had not been without its hiccups but that was because this place, this realm is a dangerous place for a feeble human from an average no-name city. He had taken every step not just to keep you safe, but to keep you sane and you miss it. You miss him, and the deep ache in your heart is probably because you don’t know where he is, if he’s safe, if he’s hurt, and how you’d even find him or help him if he wasn’t. All you can do is keep desperately riding towards the falls and hope no one catches you or Tata in the meantime.

The Falls are imposing limestone cliffs that glow bone white on the horizon, like the skeleton of a long dead beast. You ride parallel to a large frothy river. In slower patches, birds bathe and dragonflies dance along the surface, pausing only for a drink. In other parts though, the river is wide and dangerous- debris crashes against the stone bank and remind you that it would not be a nice place for a swim. You race the current towards the limestone cliff-face. Beyond that, you see nothing, but you picture forestry and greenery extending until the horizon beyond the sheer drop.

As you draw nearer to the Falls, you dismount and lead your horse, for the ground is too rocky and unstable for it to handle a rider. You see no sign of a kingdom, or any kind of civilisation, and remember the innkeeper telling you that no lesser creature has ever been able to access it. That includes you.

“Where to from here, Tata?” You ask uneasily, coming up towards the edge of the cliffside. There is no hidden kingdom beyond. Just a large, imposing waterfall. The drop isn’t even as big as you’d originally thought. You can think of a few places back home where people would make the drop for the thrill and land safely in the pool below with little more than some bruising if it’s as deep as it looks. You can’t hear his answer above the roar of the Falls beside you. Apparently they were the entrance to the kingdom, so you walk towards the mouth of the river. “Is there some kind of doorbell? Or like a summoning spell?” He climbs up your leg and perches on your shoulder to peer over the waterfalls at the forestry beyond. If nothing else, at least the scenery is beautiful.

“They have it protected. They do not want any unwanted visitors stumbling upon their beloved kingdom, after all.” A hissing, raspy voice sounds behind you. You stiff and turn so that the cliff face is at your back. Taehyung snarls at the lizardmen that have surrounded you. You are essentially pinned to the cliffside.

“Don’t you guys have anything better to do than follow a baby dragon?” You complain, though really your heart is in your throat and you feign nonchalance. “Like seriously… just order Mcdonalds or go to a fancy restaurant or something- why do you need to eat a dragon? Isn’t that like cannibalism since you’re both reptiles?”

Tata’s claws dig into your shoulders as he tenses uneasily, his ears flattened against his head and his wings spread in what would have been an imposing pose if he weren’t the size of a small angry beagle at best.

“Hand over the dragonling, human, and your death will be swift.” One of the lizardman demands. You wince- what are your options? You cannot allow Tata to be captured but you are literally at the edge of the cliff. The only way to go is down, and you have no intention of breaking your neck or drowning yourself.

“Any ideas, Tata?” You say under your breath. He just growls in response as the lizardmen close in in a horse-shoe formation around you. Hesitantly, you back towards the cliffside, feeling the open air at your back. This exact moment is a bad time to realise you are afraid of heights, but the dizzying sensation of fear and the cold sweat you break out in allow you to learn something new about yourself.

You continue to back up until you are right on the edge of the cliff side. You have nowhere else to go- this is literally the end of the line. No Taehyung to save you. You have the knife at your side but you don’t know how to use it and bought it to make yourself feel better, more than anything.

“Tata, you need to go. You know the way, right? You can make it to the kingdom.” You tell him in a hushed voice, still watching the lizardmen advance slowly, like they’ve got all the time in the world because the do. It’s not like you can escape anywhere. Tata shakes his head. “You do, little guy. You can do it. Don’t worry about me. I’ve lived a good life. And this is a pretty cool way to go- my tombstone will read “death by lizardmen”- how many people can say that about themselves?” You urge him. “Climb down the rockface or something and I’ll distract them.”

You feel Tata tremble beside you. He releases a little whimper and digs his claws painfully into your shoulders- he’s afraid. He feels the resignation just as much as you do. You can’t leave him alone, but the only way out of this mess is… down. You swallow the bile that threatens to rise in your throat. You remember going to a similar jump with your high school friends a few years ago. You had ended up flopping and having awful bruises all over your thighs and butt and your friends had mocked you. This is the same (except you don’t know the depth of the water.)

“Alright. Alright.” You say, your heart screams in protest, thumping determinedly against your throat. “Together, or not at all.” You promise Tata, tugging him off your shoulders and hugging him tight against you. “Sorry, suckers, but not today.” You screech at the lizardmen. And with a few sprints to the side, you launch yourself off the cliff face, plummeting down into the water below like another droplet in the thundering water fall. You hear the leader’s enraged cry and then the sensation of falling engages your ever sense.

You can’t hear your screeching above the roar of wind in your ears. You’re sure gravity has pulled your stomach up into your skull and Tata roars his terror along side you. His claws grip your forearms so tightly they draw blood.

All that vanishes as you hit the water below. With the intensity of a thunderclap, the outside world vanishes. The cold water smacks into you, slamming the air from your lungs and the warmth from your body. For a moment, you keep going, crashing into that dark, cool water, but then the shock of the impact wears off and you kick desperately for the surface- Tata remains anchored to you by gripping so tightly to your body his claws cut into your skin through the thick cotton you wear.

Your head breaks the surface- you did it. You got away. The roar of the nearby waterfall serves as the triumphant applause to your victory. You’ve made it- now all that remains is for the dragons to open whatever concealed entrance to their kingdom there is and you can go home. For about a half a moment, it is peaceful, with just you and Tata in the fresh, cold water.

And then the first arrow slices through your bicep. You scream out in pain, suddenly flailing desperately. It doesn’t embed itself in the soft tissue- it only cuts across your arm, slicing your arm open and then vanishing into the depths of the pool you float in. The deep cut leaves ribbons of crimson red spreading outwards into the water from you. And then suddenly the air around you is filled with whistling as the lizardmen continue to fire arrows at you from their vantage point at the top of the cliff. It’s like you’ve been transported to a war movie. There is nowhere safe for you to go- you splash desperately but each movement has your arm stinging in agony.

Stupidly, your instinct is to curl around Tata. He is defenceless- a baby, forced to endure this pain and fear for the sake of a selfish, faceless queen. You squeeze your eyes shut, embracing yourself for the arrow that will inevitably pierce your vulnerable, prone body, and can only hope that the dragons rescue Tata and are able to pry your cold, dead corpse away from him.

A loud, crashing splash occurs and suddenly the arrows stop. You don’t know why- suddenly the air is clear. You unwind your body from around Tata and the two of you exchange confused glances.

A warm arm hooks around your waist. You scream- so it wasn’t over! The lizardmen simply changed tact. Rather than kill you, they want to drag you out and capture Tata that way. You struggle and scream desperately, but the arm anchoring you against the solid body is far stronger than you and the next thing you know you are being yanked onto the river bank, Tata clutched tightly in your arms. Oddly he does not struggle or growl. He just lies there, curled up in your arms.

“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me again, sweetheart.” A familiar voice laughs, out of breath and winded.

Your heart catches in your throat and your jaw drops as you release Tata and pull free of your captor and whirl to face him because you know that voice. Its absence since your separation had plunged you into a dark, fearful despair throughout your journey. A voice you feared you may never have the pleasure of hearing again.

Taehyung stands before you, dripping wet, covered head to toe in bruises and cuts that weren’t there prior, but absolutely warm and alive. Alive.

Before you know what to even do with yourself, you are kissing him. You did not know you were capable of such desperate, reckless passion. Nonetheless, you crash your mouth against his with an intense fervour that has him staggering backwards. For a moment he can only catch your form as you cling to him. His breath catches in his throat, and his arms come up to cup your shoulders, more out of a need to steady himself. But then the initial surprise wears off and he kisses you back with an intensity that would frighten you if it didn’t match your own. You pull back to gasp for air, with the intent to kiss him once more once your oxygen is replenished, but he chases your mouth with a desperate sort of noise under his breath. It seems he’s unwilling to part with you for even a moment. He catches your lips between his teeth and then reverently traces the shape of your mouth with his tongue. His hands grab desperately at you, first at your shoulders, then your waist and then he slides them up to cup your face to hold you against him.

Eventually, the need for oxygen means you must part, and the two of you do so breathless and a little stunned at what transpired between you. It seems there is a lot that needs talking about.

“What happened to the lizardmen?” You ask, your cheeks flush red as you abruptly decide to skirt around the part where you had been kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

“I dealt with them.” Taehyung answers, but his gaze does not lift from where it is anchored at your mouth. He opens his mouth to say something, perhaps to comment on the kiss, or even request a reoccurrence but he is unfortunately never given the chance. A loud cacophony of roars cuts off his next words and you look behind you to witness the marvel of the waterfalls parting.

Behind them lies an ornate and elaborate archway- the entrance to the Draconian kingdom. Tata crows in delight.

You made it- you delivered him home safely.

The Draconian Kingdom is, admittedly, less of a kingdom and more of a wondrous natural valley. You suppose it is foolish to have pictured a towering palace, or fancy buildings or anything. Taehyung informs you that long ago all dragons went into hiding following relentless hunting of their kind, and this secretive but wondrous place is where they retreated to. Only those they deemed worthy could enter, and apparently that now included you. A random office worker whose biggest achievement was working out how to create a pivot table in a spreadsheet.

Dragons cannot cry but the emotion in their eyes as the King and Queen are reunited with a son that they thought was dead, one who has been missing for nearly 60 years thanks to the way time flows differently in your home realm conveys to you what they are feeling far better than any tear could. A hard lump settles in your chest at the anguish and heartache they must have felt when their baby was snatched away from them. As you and Taehyung stand before the throne of the King and Queen, an impressive rock structure carved into the mountainside itself, the Queen descends rapidly, landing in front of you with a powerful flap of lethal, emerald wings. For a second, your heart catches in your throat, for she is large enough that she could swallow you in one gulp. Her claws could slice your entire body in half like you were no more than a wet tissue paper, and her teeth are foreboding and sharp, designed for tearing flesh from bone. Yet she makes no intent to harm you- instead, she closes her eyes and extends her mighty neck, lowering her head until it hovers above the ground directly in front of you. Oddly, you recognise the gesture. It was the same thing Tata had done when he first met you, what feels like a lifetime ago. Hesitantly, you extend your open palm towards her, just like you did with Tata, although the size difference is almost laughable.

Slowly, she presses the tip of her snout against your hand. You do not speak her language, and she does not speak yours but you know the meaning behind her gesture as clearly as if she had spoken it to you aloud.

Thank you.

You feel a tug on your trousers and look down to find Tata has caught them between his teeth and is trying to tug you down to his level. Bewildered, you sink down onto your knees and he clambers towards you. To think a mere week ago you hadn’t known his kind existed but now you feel inexplicably linked with him. Tata’s form before you blurs as your eyes fill with tears.

“I’m going to miss you, little one.” You whisper softly, closing your eyes to press your forehead against his. You feel the rumble of his soft, contented growl and inhale shakily. “We did it.” You remind him. “You’re home safe, and you’re going to be a wonderful king.”

You feel oddly choked as you take a step back to allow Taehyung to step forward and say his good-byes. He crouches before Tata and scoops his small form into his arms.

“I promised I’d get you home, didn’t I, little guy?” He chuckles as Tata scrabbles at him, licking his face like an overexcited puppy. The sight of it has you feeling oddly warm and sentimental. Taehyung gives Tata one big, long squeeze, before setting him down and getting to his feet. He bows deeply to the King and Queen before turning to you.

“They requested we stay for the coronation and have offered us a way to get home safely afterwards.” He tells you, but oddly the words are stilted and awkward. Formal, like the two of you were strangers. It… stings. His distant tone. Perhaps you made it awkward by kissing him, and he feels uncomfortable with you now?

Regardless, this is not the time for such thoughts and so you shelve them away into the ‘deal with later’ section of your brain, like you’ve done with the numerous odd feelings this adventure has dredged up towards Taehyung. For the moment, it is time for Tata’s coronation, the whole purpose of this entire journey.

Taithrwyn means ‘king of the stars’ in an ancient language lost even to the most ancient of civilisations in this realm. He was named so because the night he hatched, a brilliant meteorshower lit the sky, unlike anything anyone had seen for a millenia. Even the dragons, hidden away in their secretive but mighty kingdom, had witnessed it and been awestruck. And so the Draconian King and Queen had named their son because of that brilliant blaze, hoping it was an omen for how he would one day reign.

It is only fitting, Taehyung had informed you amidst the joyous celebrations that signalled the Prince’s safe return home, that his coronation be held beneath the stars. The smooth river that cuts through the centre of the valley that comprises the Draconian Kingdom catches the light of the stars above it like a perfect mirror. You are sure that were you to dip your fingers into the cold, smooth water, what you would catch between your fingers would not be water but pure, liquid starlight. You sit beside Taehyung from your vantage point in the cliffside and watch as the dragons glide over the water. Their wings catch the silver light, and while beneath bright sunlight each dragon is the colour of a gemstone, beneath the stars they become the subdued but gorgeous colours of an aurora. They weave through the air like one, in a complex dance that you do not understand the significance of but can appreciate the beauty of.

“It’ll be weird to go home, after all this.” You confess to Taehyung below your breath. He has been quiet since your reunion. Perhaps he is just as exhausted as you.

“You think so?” He questions, and his voice is soft and oddly choked. You frown and nod.

“It’s not my home, but it’s… It’s oddly beautiful here. I could have done without the whole nearly-dying-every-second-day thing, but I think this is the most fun I’ve had in my entire life.” You tell him, and when you turn to him you are surprised to find his eyes oddly misty. “Are you ok?” You question. He smiles forlornly and nods.

“Just… sad to be parting from the little guy, I guess.” He tells you, and you nod solemnly for you feel the bittersweet ache of goodbye in your chest as well. He gets to his feet and brushes away the soil that clings to the back of his trousers before helping you to your feet. “Come on, (Y/N),” He says, and the way he says your name feels different than every other time, and to his odd, frequent pet names. You cannot put a name to the tone to his voice and you do not try to. Instead you accept his hand and allow him to pull you to your feet. “It’s time to go home.”

The smile you offer him as he leads you away is both sad and relieved.

Your alarm awakens you early the next morning and you snap awake with a horrified start. It takes you a moment to gather your bearings and to orientate yourself. Though a week had passed in the other realm, it had been a mere few hours in your home realm, and Taehyung had delivered you safely to your doorstep, just as he promised he would when this whole ordeal had started. He had lingered at your doorway like there were words he wanted to say. You had a lot you wanted to say too- that you wanted him to stay. That you wanted more adventures with him. That you could still picture the taste of his lips on yours when you shut your eyes. But the words had stayed caught in your throat until he was long out of sight and you were alone in your apartment.

You allow yourself the luxury of lying in a stupor in your bed for a few more moments. You hadn’t realised how accustomed you had grown to the warmth of Tata curled up at your side and the gentle sound of Taehyung’s breathing close by. Now your bed seems empty. Maybe you should get a pet- a cat, or maybe a snake. Then again, maybe not.

With a sigh, you roll out of bed. Perhaps you’ll get your chance to speak with Taehyung if you see him at work. It feels strange, the mundane-ness of going through your morning routine like the past week didn’t happen. Perhaps it didn’t. You have no proof other than your memories and the bandage around your arm where the first arrow had pierced your flesh and a few bruises. You smooth your arm over the rough cotton bandage before slipping on your uniform. The long sleeves conceal it and suddenly to the outside world there is no proof at all. You look and feel different as you gaze into the mirror though. Perhaps it is the way the sun has darkened your skin, or the way your eyes shine with an edge that wasn’t there before. You feel like a different person yet to every person in that office save for Taehyung you are the same person. Your mundane office life was just yesterday in this realm yet it feels a lifetime ago for you.

“You look different.” Jimin comments as you arrive at work, squinting at you suspiciously. “Did you go out in the sun yesterday? Also is that a bruise?” He squints at you with concern. “Did you and Taehyung get into a knife fight last night?” He demands, rising to his feet to examine you from head to toe. You shake your head and lightly push him away.

“No, no, nothing like that.” You say quickly. “I banged my head on the cupboard when I got home is all.” You lie to him. Jimin regards you with suspicion but does not press.

“I see…” He says slowly. “How did the confrontation go? You haven’t been answering your phone.”

“I lost it.” You explain about the missed phone calls because that is the easier question to answer. As for the confrontation… How do you even begin to answer that question? Just a week ago, you had been prepared to give Taehyung an earful but suddenly the thought of forcing him to lose his job when you know why he’s so flaky makes your heart ache. It must be difficult, both desiring and being obligated to help while also wanting to live his own life. You remember the day you first met, when he confessed that he was on the verge of losing his job. That sensation, that Taehyung shouldn’t lose his job for wanting to help, wells up in you until you feel you may cry. Jimin nods.

“So did you see him or not? How did it go?” He demands.

You are saved answering when you catch a glimpse of the man currently occupying your thoughts. He is just arriving at the office- the strap of his bag is gripped tightly in his fist. He regards you with an odd, slack-jawed sort of expression. For a moment the two of you gaze at each other across the cubicles, wide-eyed. Slowly, hesitantly, you offer Taehyung a smile for you do not know how else to react to him. He glances away though, tearing his gaze from yours and the gesture has you feeling oddly hurt.

“Not well, I take it.” Jimin comments as he watches the exchange with mild interest. You glance down, unable to process the onslaught of emotions you feel. On one hand you want to abandon your work and race to Taehyung’s side. You want to share with him all the thoughts from yesterday. You want to ask about his adventures. You want to beg him to take you along the next one. But his oddly distant and cool reaction to you holds you back. Is he mad because you kissed him? Is he trying to distance himself from you now that the journey is over? Perhaps he only stuck around out of obligation because you were in trouble because of him and now he wants to steer clear? Doubt swirls uncomfortably in your stomach.

“I…” You say, your voice raspy with an emotion you can’t identify. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You quickly slide into your chair and distract yourself with starting up your computer so you don’t have to acknowledge the way Jimin’s gaze has sharpened with worry and curiosity.

The rest of the day passes like this. You think you catch him staring a few times but his gaze always flicks away before you can actually catch him in the act. Why is he acting like this? Like an awkward co-worker who hardly knows you? What triggered this behaviour? Was everything the two of you went through together… did it mean nothing to him? Or worse… was it really all some strange dream? Did you imagine the whole thing?

Finally, the end of your work day arrives. The day felt like it crept by, second by agonising second. All you want to do is curl up at home, maybe have a long bath and try and distract yourself from overthinking Taehyung’s behaviour. You’re about to rise from your desk and leave for the day, when Jimin skids into view, fresh from gossiping in the tearoom.

“What the heck did you say to Taehyung yesterday?” He demands breathlessly, an unusual mixture of eager for juicy gossip and horrified at whatever it is may have happened. “He just quit.”

Your bag, which you had been in the process of slinging over your shoulder, slips suddenly from your grip.

“What?” You ask, your heart dropping into your stomach. Jimin shakes his head.

“I know! So out of the blue- but Martha says he just handed in his resignation letter and I-“ You cut off his explanation.

“What’s his address?” You demand. You had noticed Taehyung hadn’t returned after your lunch break but you thought maybe he had just been avoiding being seen by you. Jimin looks surprised and a little irritated to have been cut off.

“Why do you want to know? Anyway, what I want to know is what did you-“

“His address, Jimin!” You plead urgently, and something in your voice and expression must give him pause. He stares at you for a long moment before reaching over your desk. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through until he finds what he’s looking for and then scribbles an address on a sticky note. He hands it to you.

“That’s his apartment. But why do you want to know? What happened, (Y/N)?” He asks. You grip the sticky note tightly in your fist like it is your lifeline and stare at Jimin with a wildness you don’t really understand.

“I’ll explain everything later, ok?” You promise. Jimin looks like he wants to protest, but it is too late- you are already fleeing, sprinting through the office like a madwoman.

You thought you had a lot to say to Taehyung. A lot that you wanted him to say. But as he gapes at you from his doorway, his still-ruined apartment in view through the opening, you only manage one coherent statement.

“What the hell, Taehyung?” You demand, a little breathlessly and a little hurt. Taehyung merely stares at you like you are a mystical creature who just appeared spontaneously on his doorstep. He opens his mouth like he intends to speak, but then simple continues gazing at you with that same, bewildered light. “You resigned?” You ask, and your voice trembles with your confusion and distress. His expression softens at the hurt in your expression and he takes a step backwards to allow you to step inside.

“Why don’t you come in, sweetheart?” He offers weakly and you oblige.

He’s made some effort at cleaning up his ruined apartment. One of the shattered windows has material taped over it to seal the hole and the glass is nowhere to be seen. All the ruined furniture is thrown carelessly in a far corner and he’s laid various objects out as if he were in the middle of sorting them when you showed up. “Do you want some tea? My kettle is one of the few things that still work.”

“Taehyung,” you say. “Your apartment...” He stiffens at the horrified sympathy in your voice.

“Don’t worry about it. I knew the risks when I decided to help Tata. It wasn’t a request I took on lightly.” He tells you sternly. “And besides, material things can be replaced.” He reminds you.

“Not if you quit your job and are currently unemployed.” You point out hotly, irritated at his casual attitude. He grins lazily.

“Who said I was unemployed?” He tells you. Your eyes go wide.

“What?” You ask. He shrugs his shoulders and smiles.

“I actually planned to quit right before Tata showed up.” He admits. “I got a better job offer with better pay and more flexible hours. Figured I couldn’t keep taking advantage of my sweet, naive coworker who kept covering for me forever.”

Suddenly you feel foolish. Had you been so arrogant as to think his sudden resignation had to do with you and your little adventure? You flush hotly and try to backtrack.

“Oh,” you say, ducking your head in an attempt to conceal your mortification. “I guess this was a misunderstanding then- I’ll just be going then-“

“Wait!” Taehyung cries, grabbing your hand. With a rapid manoeuvre, he spins you around so that you stumble into his awaiting arms. He gives you an odd half-smile. “D-don’t go yet.” He says softly and are you imagining the redness in his face? “You only just got here.”

You realise that when you lost your balance, you had grabbed onto him for stability and that you are now clinging to him like a swooning maiden. Embarrassed, you straighten and clear your throat.

“I guess... I guess I can spare the time.” You sniff, in an effort to sound uninterested. He chuckles.

“You’re cute.” He mutters under his breath. “I was just about to sit down and have a nutritious dinner of instant noodles because the only thing cooking equipment that wasn’t smashed to pieces by those lizardmen was my kettle. Why don’t you join me, darling?”

You pretend to consider even though your heart is already leaping with joy at the opportunity to spend more time with him.

“Ok.” You agree, hoping you don’t sound too much like an eager teenager who just got asked out by her crush. It only sounds slightly breathy and enthusiastic, to your relief. Taehyung smiles fondly.

“Then have a seat and prepare yourself for my impressive culinary skills.” He says, gesturing towards one of the few unbroken chairs in his apartment. He drags a chair that has had the back broken off but still functions as an odd half stool across the room and sets it opposite you. His dining table has been discarded in the ruined furniture pile.

“Don’t talk yourself up too much or I won’t accept anything less that Michelin-Star cuisine.” You admonish him, but you are only joking and settle obediently into the chair.

Dinner is a quiet affair. The two of you sit in silence until you can bear it no longer.

“Why didn’t you say anything at work today?” You ask. “You ignored me.”

He looks unsurprised at your question. If anything, he looks like he expected it. He digs his teeth into his lips and runs his fingers almost reverently across them. The tips of his ears grow bright red.

“I... I was shy.” He confesses at last, ducking his head. “I didn’t know how to approach you after... after...” he trails away.

“After we kissed?” You question tentatively. He shakes his head and risks a look at you from beneath his lashes.

“After everything.” He admits, and his voice is a shaky whisper. You can’t really name the look in his eyes but it has your heart tremoring within the confines of your rib cage. He clears his throat and straightens, smoothing his hands hugging his bowl closer to him where it sits in his lap. “I’ve dated before, you know.” He announces, and the statement is so baffling and out of context that you merely stare. He coughs awkwardly. “As in... I’ve gone on dates. And I’ve flirted with a lot of people- I flirt with a lot of people. But it never goes beyond a first or second date because someone asks for help and I end up cancelling.” He explains. “So I’ve never had a relationship. But with you...” he trails away, clenching his fists tightly as he steels himself for what he’s going to say next. “When you kissed me I got scared. Because... because I wanted more than a second date. I know what it feels like to fall asleep with you in my arms... I know what it feels like to have you look at me with those big eyes of yours and tell me you trust me. I can’t just do the casual first date thing after all of that only for you to tell me I’m not really boyfriend material. You can’t just kiss me like you did if you’re going to get sick of me. It doesn’t work that way, sweetheart. So I was scared because I don’t know what it looks like going beyond some flirty lines and a second date and I’m scared that’s what’s going to happen. So I chickened out, I guess.” He confesses in an emotional rush that leave you speechless for a few moments. He shoots a furtive glance at your utterly gobsmacked expression before shaking his head and chuckling. “Ridiculous, isn’t it?” He says and his tone is warm but his words are self-deprecating. It makes your heart ache. “Those feelings are stupid and I-“

“I can’t do it either.” You confess in a rush, squeezing your eyes shut as if it will help you spit out the words. “After everything that happened... I don’t think I can go back to being just coworkers or having a casual fling. I... I like you Taehyung. I like how you kept your promises and I like how you want to help others so much and I like that your first instinct in danger was to protect Tata and me. I like that you risked your job and your life to get a baby dragon home and... I like that you... I like that you’re the kind of person who gave up his umbrella to a random lady on the street just because you could.”

Taehyung’s whole expression scrunches up like he’s in physical pain.

“Oh thank the stars.” He cries, and then he leans across the small gap between you and presses his mouth enthusiastically to yours with an ease and accuracy that tells you it’s probably what he’s been thinking about since sitting down. “I like you too.” He says, pulling away only to give you another peck. “So much.” He gasps between eager little kisses. “I like you!” He exclaims and then kisses you again. The last kiss is long and slow and lingering and it takes you a long moment to finally open your eyes. When you do, Taehyung is beaming at you.

Something feels right, about the way he stares at you and you know in that moment that everything is going to be alright.

“(Y/N)... I want you to be there on adventures with me... I want to show you all the amazing places the realm I grew up in has to offer... and I want to take you to dinner and hopefully get another one of those kisses.” He tells you with a blush. “Because dang I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” His voice is breathless as he admits it and his gaze is anchored on your mouth. You don’t say anything and merely stare at him, bewildered at how much you like the man sitting before you.

“What do you say, sweetness?” Taehyung asks you softly. “How about dinner?”

You smile and your answer comes in the form of leaning towards him and stealing another kiss.

And that’s how you start your next big adventure with Kim Taehyung.

#taehyung #taehyung fic #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #writing #bts fluff

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fenrys-moonbeam-lochan · 5 years

Text

Soulmate AU 1.0: My Love is Worth so Much More (Part 3)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4 ao3

So this took on a life of its own went waaaay longer then I had intended. Hope you guys still enjoy it.

XXX

Summary: Everyone knows the facts about soulmates. You are born with dull marks on your body that brighten when you touch your soulmates for the first time. A person can have up to any number of soulmates though three is the average number. You stop ageing at age twenty-five and do not age until you find all your soulmates and until all your soulmates start ageing too. Those are the facts

Then there are beliefs. Soulmates are supposed to be chosen by the universe for you, so they can’t be wrong, can they? Wrong. There is no point of it if they do not respect you, no point if they do not love you. No point if they hurt you.

It takes years for Lorcan to figure that out though.

XXX

Lorcan had died and descended to another plane of existence.

Or at least that’s what it felt like as he slid off Rowan and flopped down beside him. He didn’t think he had ever had sex this good before.

He looked over to the younger man, who still seemed to be riding the after chock of his orgasm. Lorcan turned on his side and gently cupped his neck.

“You alright, Whitethorn?”

Rowan took a few deep breathes, “Yeah, yeah. Just-just a little overwhelmed. Never had it like that before,”

Lorcan grinned and gave him a soft kiss.

“Well, I don’t think you’ve ever had sex with your soulmate before either,”

Rowan smiled, “Yeah. What about you? I noticed some of your other petals are filling it out,’

“Well,” said Lorcan, loosely putting his arms around Rowan, “I met Gavriel and Maeve when at least one of us was a child and Vaughan and I have always had a more brotherly relationship,”

“Oh so those three are your soulmate?” said Rowan, “Or well I guess mine too,”

Lorcan frowned, “Yes, they are. Don’t you already know that? We’ve never hidden it,”

Rowan shrugged, “It’s not like you go around showing your mark to people, speculating and gossiping about soulmates is considered inappropriate, and mix that with the fact that people are usually reluctant to talk about Maeve and her closest in general, yeah there’s only vague rumours,”

Huh. Rowan had a point. Children kept their marks covered in general, even orphanages provided a powder to cover them up. Lorcan had never done it as a child but as a favour to Maeve, he and the other two had done it for most of their adult lives. He wouldn’t be surprised if even their personal group of warriors were oblivious to the bond between them. And if they did know, they probably didn't discuss it as talking about a soulmate bond without the soulmates’ permission was considered rude and improper.

Though there was one thing.

“What do people think about me living with Maeve since I was a child?”

“That’s actually why the rumours exist,” said Rowan, “Though some people just think that you impressed her and she gave you to one of her warriors to take under their wing,”

Well, it wasn't a complete lie. He and Vaughan had been trained by some of the best warriors in Maeve’s old guard.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Rowan, “Do you have any other marks?”

Lorcan brought his hand to his chest and rubbed their until the powder came off and the swirl pattern was visible. Fascinated, Rowan traced it with his hand, smiling up at Lorcan.

“Ever wonder about them?” said Rowan

Lorcan shrugged, “Not really. I’ll meet them when I meet them,”

Rowan took his hand away and rubbed at his own chest. After a few seconds, Loran could see a small flame right over Rowan’s heart.

“It’s in the same place as mine,” said Lorcan, touching the mark in awe

“Yeah,”

They stayed like that until Lorcan couldn't resist anymore and leaned down t give Rowan a soft kiss, letting his lips linger until they had to come up for air.

The younger man nuzzled his cheeks and whispered, “I have to say, I'm not used to this,”

“Kissing softly,” said Lorcan with a grin

“Staying the night,”

Lorcan furrowed his brow, “I would say that we’re soulmates so of course, you stayed but I get the feeling this is more than that,”

“I’ve mostly kept myself alone since -well- since-”

“Lyria,” Lorcan finished for him, comfortingly running a hand through his hair

Rowan smiled sadly, “You know about that?”

Lorcan pressed his lips in imitation of a smile, “It was a pretty big wedding,”

“Right,” said Rowan, voice a little too rough

Lorcan pulled him up in a hug and kissed his hair.

“Well, You’re definitely not going to be alone anymore,”

XXX

Lorcan startled awake and for a few seconds, he couldn't breathe.

It took him a few panicked breathes to realize that he wasn’t really feeling his own emotions.

Throwing off the covers, he hurried out into the hall. Gavriel was also stepping out of the room in front of him. Vaughan was already in the hall, looking wide-eyed and confused.

“Who was that?”

Soulmates shared a special, physical bond that sometimes allowed emotions to carry over. Lorcan’s bond with others had never been this loud before. Maeve kept her distance. Gavriel was usually level headed. Like Lorcan, Vaughan had learned early on how to handle his as to not disturb the others. Usually they used the bond to find out where the other person was or if there was any emotional turmoil to navigate, something that had been helpful when Gavriel had lost the last of his family.

This loud and intrusive feeling in his chest was new and confusing.

In his haze, it took Lorcan a few minutes remember the newest addition to their bond. Gavriel and Vaughan must have had the same realization at the same time because they also turned toward the door at the end of the hall.

Rowan’s room had a sheet of ice on each wall, the windows were frosted over and there were icicles hanging from the ceiling. Whatever had caused his magic to go out of control had obviously been happening for a few hours now.

Rowan himself was twisting his hands in the sheets, eyes still closed with tears running down his cheeks.

Lorcan wanted to rush forward and take the younger man in his arms, wake him up and tell him that he was okay, that whatever horror was going through his head was not real.

He knew better though.

Instead, he followed Gavirel as they slowly walked to the bed, Vaughan took the position at Rowan’s feet and Gavriel at his head. Nodding at the two of them, he knelt and started to whisper in Rowan’s ear.

“Wake up Ro. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. You just have to wake up,”

Rowan kept thrashing, so Vaughan and Gavriel kept their hands out, not touching but ready to stop him if he started to hurt himself.

It didn’t come to that though. Rowan eventually started to calm down so Lorcan squeezes his hand, startling him awake. Rowan between the three of them wide-eyed and confused with a bit of fear still in his eyes.

“Hey Rowan,” whispered Lorcan

That was all Rowan needed to get out of his stupor because as soon as Lorcan spoke, he promptly burst into tears and threw himself at Lorcan.

Lorcan hugged him close, shushing him and rocking him gently.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, Ro. It was just a bad dream, you’re okay,”

It only made Rowan cry harder, so Lorcan let him, holding him close and letting him know he wasn’t alone.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan whispered into his shoulder once he had calmed.

“No need to apologize,” murmured Lorcan, manoeuvring them so they were leaning against the wall by his bed. Gavriel and Vaughan joined them on either side, whispering their own reassurances.

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Gavriel, rubbing his arm

“I- I was dreaming about Lyria,”

“Okay,” said Gavriel in encouragement

Rowan hiccupped, “Most people don’t know this but Lyria- she was pregnant when she died,”

The three older men looked at each other stunned. Not ageing came with a lot of side effects. A stronger immune system, strength, becoming harder to kill, and of course very very low fertility. A good thing too. Lorcan himself was centuries old. If he and everyone as old as him kept having children all through their temporary immortality, the world would be overrun pretty soon.

However, as rare as children for immortals were, especially when both parents were immortal, it didn’t mean it never happened, proven by Rowan's story.

“I was going to be a father,” Rowan said in a broken whisper, “I was going to be a father and they both died and I keep seeing them, her body just laying there, broken and I just want it to stop!”

He dissolved into sobs again.

“I just want it to stop,” he whispered through his tears

Not knowing what to do or what to say, the three of them just pulled their youngest soulmate as close as they could, holding him for the rest of the night.

XXX

Lorcan watched Vaughan whip Rowan with a pit in his stomach. Beside him, Gavriel was tense, barely keeping himself from rushing forward and pulling Rowan away.

Lorcan knew that the whip was a common punishment in Maeve’s guard, had gone through it himself, had watched Vaughan and Gavriel go through it, had implemented it under Maeve’s order but something about the scene in front of him irked him.

Maybe it was the protectiveness he felt over Rowan, maybe it was the distant look in Rowan’s eyes.

Or maybe it was the fact that Lorcan knew that this whipping was exactly what Rowan had wanted when he lad lashed out in front of Maeve.

Once they were done, Vaughan moved to clean up the place while Gavriel stepped forward to take Rowan back to their rooms. He turned to wait for Lorcan but he waved them off.

“I have to talk to Maeve. I’ll be there later,”

Lorcan found Maeve in her study, already moving on to other matter as if she hadn’t just had Rowan whipped for no good reason.

“Lorcan,” said Maeve, once she noticed him, “Come in. What are you doing here? I thought you would be with the others,”

She said it with a gentle tone and a smile on her face. Lorcan had to shake his head to not sink into her sweetness and honey-dipped words.

“I wanted to talk to you about Rowan,” he said, seating himself opposite to her

Maeve looked at him curiously, “What about him?”

“I don’t think the whip was necessary,”

Maeve tilted his head, studying him, “Lorcan, you know the rules. He gave up control over his magic and he was given the punishment anyone would be given in the situation,”

“Yes, of course. I know that,” said Lorcan, “But it was obvious he was upset and not thinking straight. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to help him overcome whatever it is he is struggling with so it doesn’t happen again, rather than cause him more pain,”

“Like I said Lorcan, whatever the reason, the punishment still had to be dolled out,” said Maeve, voice matter of fact

“I know. I know,” said Lorcan, “All I’m saying is that maybe a little more understanding would be better,”

“What I understand,” said Maeve. “Is that Rowan is a grown man who consciously performed an action that got him punished,”

Lorcan could feel himself getting irritated but he squashed it down, “Yes, he did do wrong but was whipping him the way to correct that wrong,”

“It has always been like that. He will be fine, just like everyone else,”

Lorcan’s dormant anger flared at that remark and he jumped out of the chair before he could say something stupid.

“You’re not listening to me,” said Lorcan, voice louder than he intended, “It’s not about ‘everyone else’. This is about Rowan and how you’re punishing him despite the fact that he just needs help,”

“Help,” said Maeve raising his eyebrow, giving him the look she used to when he was a child. The ‘you poor child look’

It took every ounce of Loracn’s strength not to do a redo of Rowan’s explosion earlier.

“Yes, Maeve help!” Lorcan knew his voice was louder than it should be, knew he should stop himself.

He didn’t. He was too angry too.

“Rowan is hurt and upset and still mourning. He’s lashing out because he has no other way to deal with himself and you whipping him is giving him the wrong kind of coming method. Can’t you see that,”

In an instant, Maeve was in front of him, leading him back to the chair.

“There. There, Lorcan,” said Maeve, “Take a few deep breathes, calm down,”

Lorcan followed her instruction until his head cleared and looked to where she was sitting back in her chair.

“Are you saying that you are afraid Rowan might get, how should I put it, addicted to pain as an out for his emotions,”

Lorcan nodded, all the energy draining out of him.

“Well,” said Maeve, “As you know, I don't usually get involved in personal things like that, for anyone in the guard including you four. We just don’t have that type of soulmate relationship you know,”

Lorcan bit his lip. She was right, of course. She had always preferred to keep a distance from their bond and that was her choice. It also meant that she didn’t always have an idea of what was going through their heads.

“But since you’re so worried and you are my soulmates after all, even if we don't have that type of relationship, I’ll look into helping him somehow. Maybe a small vacation for the two of you. He seems to be the closest with you. We could also have him see a ming healer,”

Lorcan nodded, still feeling the whiplash from how fast the conversation had changed direction.

“Anything else,” said Maeve, tone once gain changed to dismissive and uncaring

Lorcan shook his head, “No, Maeve,”

“Lovely,” she said waving her hand at him

He got up and went to the door, only for her to call him as he was about to step out.

“Yes?” he said turning around.

“See Lorcan,” said Maeve, “Everything can be solved with a little bit of conversation, there is no reason to shout.

Lorcan nodded.

Maeve smiled, “Maybe you should see a mind healer too,” she said befor turning back to her papers. It didn't sound reassuring at all.

He left her study feeling as if he had lost something.

XXX

Lorcan got out the mixers and pans and set them out beside the ingredients. He looked at the clock and concluded that he had about an hour and twenty minutes.

Perfect. It should be enough time.

He mixed the ingredients together in about twenty minutes and as soon as the cake was in the oven, he started working on the icing.

Once the cake was done he put it on the rack to cool down and checked the time. Still had twenty minutes, maybe more depending on the other man’s mood.

Exactly twenty-five minutes later, Rowan stumbling into the kitchen, giving Lorcan a sleepy look.

“Hey,” he said grabbing himself some water, “What are you doing?”

“Cake,” said Lorcan, “Just finished the cream inside, have to decorate the outside now. How was your nap?”

“It was okay,” said Rowan, “Why are you making a cake? We’re the only ones here,”

Lorcan just shrugged, “Wanted to bake a cake. Want to help me decorate?”

Rowan shook his head, “Don’t know how,”

“I could show you,” Lorcan insisted, “Come here. It will be fun,”

“I really don’t feel like it, Lor,”

And that was just the problem. Rowan hasn’t felt like doing anything lately. He got like that sometimes, entered a dark slump that was hard to get out of without help. The current one had been going on longer than usual. If it kept going Maeve was going to get upset and an upset Maeve was never a good thing.

More then that though, Lorcan was just worried about Rowan. Rowan had some problems with being alone and asking for company. They could never be sure when he was genuinely in need of space or when he was just afraid to ask. Usually, his need for space lasted for a few days. It had been over a week now since his slump had started and Loracn figured an intervention was in order.

“Come on, Rowan. Decorate the cake with me. We can eat it together with wine. Just the two of us. Please!”

Rowan smiled at his admittedly rare theatrics and looked as if his resolve was breaking.

“I’ll even let you clean the icing bowl,”

Rowan snorted, Lorcan’s favourite smile spreading across his face. One that was full of laughter and childish mischief.

“Can’t say no to that now can I?”

Internally, Lorcan was squealing, however, he merely handed Rowan another spreader and started to coach him through decorating the cake.

They spent the next half an hour making different patterns out of the big bowls of frosting and icing they had created. The result was a wonky-looking thing with ten different colours without any pattern to them.

“What a work art,” said Rowan, “Truly magnificent,”

Lorcan snorted, “Not my fault you’re terrible at this,”

“Hey now, you’re the one that insisted I do this with you,”

“And it was fun!”

Rowan smiled at him, “Yes it was and if I remember correctly, I was promised a reward at the end,”

Lorcan grinned and drew the younger man closer to him, “Yes, yes you were,”

He picked up the bow and instead of giving Rowan a spoom to lick, he scooped some with his fingers and presented them to Rowan. The silver-haired man looked surprised for only a moment before he was taking Lorcan’s fingers in his mouth and licking them clean.

Once he was done, he sort of just looked at Lorcan and they both burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, I don’t know why I did that,” said Lorcan, still surprised at himself.

Rowan chuckled and wrapped his arms around him.

“Let’s go eat cake, commander,”

Lorcan kissed his nose, “Yes, let’s,”

So they grabbed the cake and a bottle of expensive wine and lade their way to the roof. The sun was just setting casting a warm glow all over the city. The spent the rest of the evening feeding each other cake and getting tipsy over wine.

Sometime during the night, after the stars and moon had come out, Lorcan looked over at Rowan and just kept on looking, helpless against the beauty. His hair was shining like silver under the moonlight. His sharp features were casting a shadow on his face, making them seem even sharper. His eyes were shining as bright as the stars he was gazing at and a small smile adorned his face.

Noticing this stare, Rowan looked over, “What?”

Lorcan smiled and reached out to gently cup his cheek, “You’re beautiful,”

Rowan blushed, leaning in to give him the softest of kisses.

“Sap,”

Later, Lorcan carried Rowan down, the younger man a little too drunk on wine to come down himself. After putting him in bed, Lorcan was just about to turn to the door when Rowan took his arm and tugged him back.

Lorcan looked down at the man lying in the bed, “What is it, Rowan?”

“Can you stay?” he whispered, an odd little tremor in his voice that Lorcan didn’t like.

“In the bed? With you?”

Rowan looked down at the bedspread and nodded.

Lorcan smiled, “I would love to,”

Rowan's head snapped up, looking a little too surprised for Lorcan’s liking. He smiled at the younger man and slipped under the covers after taking off his shirt.

“Come here,” he told the younger man

Rowan manoeuvred himself with his back was against Lorcan’s chest.

After a few minutes of quiet Lorcan was sure Rowan asleep and was just about to fall asleep himself when Rowan spoke up, voice soft with sleep.

“She doesn’t deserve it you know,”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Your devotion,” he mumbled, “She doesn’t deserve your devotion,”

It wasn’t hard to guess who Rowan was talking about. Not knowing what to say, Lorcan stayed quiet eventually hearing Rowan’s gentle snores.

He didn’t sleep properly for the rest of the night.

XXX

“Hey, Lorcan!”

Lorcan slowed down allowing Vaughan to catch up to him.

“Good morning,”

Vaughan smiled and linked their arms together, “Where are you going?”

“Just the gardens,” said Lorcan, “Thought I’d take an early morning walk,”

“Walk? Don't you usually run in the mornings?”

“Back is still being a bother,”

from the lashing yesterday went unsaid

“Well, would you mind if I join you?”

Lorcan smiled at his soulmate, “Never,”

It was a bright spring morning, the sun was just starting to peek out of the clouds and there was a fresh breeze in the air.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?”

“I didn’t say anything about talking,” said Vaughan but Lorcan knew it was just for show. They had never able to hide anything from each other.

Lorcan just gave him a look, telling him to get on with it.

“I wanted to talk about Rowan, more specifically you and Rowan’s...um...intimacy,”

Lorcan snorted, “You can say sex you know,”

Vaughan coughed, “Yes well, I’m a little worried about him,”

That made Lorcan frown, “What about him having sex with me is worrying. You know I always treat my bed partners well,”

“No! No! I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just- you know his thing with asking for help or touch. He’s not good at just initiating it and well I think it’s translating itself to why he’s having sex with you,”

Lorcan shook his head, “Vaughan, I have to admit I have no idea what you’re saying,”

Vaughan took a deep breath, “I think he’s having sex with you because he has no idea how else to ask for touch,”

Lorcan felt his whole self still in dread.

“What?” he asked quietly

“Not all the time of course. He’s attracted to you, that much is obvious, but I’ve noticed he’s a lot twitchier and he’s been going to your bed a lot more and put the two together and...”

Lorcan’s head spun so hard that he had to sit down, Vaughan gently lowering him to the ground and rubbing his arm comfortingly. A small part of him wanted to deny it but a bigger part of him knew Vaughan was most likely right. He had always been the most observant of them all. And Rowan had been coming to his bed a lot more.

God, how had he not noticed?

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” whispered Vaughan, “I’ve only noticed recently which probably means it’s a recent development,”

“He’s been a part of us for years now though, why is he acting like this now?”

“Well, at first he probably pushed the need away, hence why he’s so touch starved now. And it took him a while to open up to all of us. We didn’t even know he had nightmares or about his unborn child until that nightmare. Remember?”

Lorcan nodded. That night had been awful.

“Why are you telling me?” asked Lorcan. Vaughan could have easily solved the problem himself. And if he thought it should be a group thing, he would have called Gavriel here too.

“Well, you are the only one he’s interested in having sex with or who's interested in having sex with him,”

“True,”

“And you know me and him aren’t that close and him Gavriel and him just aren’t that kind of friends,”

Lorcan smiled. Rowan and Gavriel’s friendship was one of the most amusing things around the manor. The two grown-ass men became young children around each other. Running around in the gardens, sparring and creating mayhem for everyone else. Gavriel was always so contained that it had been a shocking but welcome surprise to see him let loose around their youngest soulmate.

However, that type of friendship did not go beyond quick ‘manly’ hugs and wrestling in the arena. Though Lorcan knew that if Rowan ever indicated that he needed more, Gavriel would be more then happy to cuddle the silver-haired man, probably groom him like a small cub too.

“I suppose that you’re hoping I’ll do something about it,”

Vaughan smiled sheepishly, “I thought about a full intervention but that will probably make him shut down on us so...”

Lorcan sighed and shook his head, “I’ll do...something,”

Vaughn smiled and helped him up, “I have no doubt,”

Lorcan didn’t have to wait long for the chance. After dinner the same day, Rowan found him in his room and he’s ashamed to say that he nearly forgot about his conversation with Vaughan. Rowan's lips were insistent, his hands hot on his body, making everything else seem distant.

God, it was so tempting, so tempting to just give in to the heat and desire, to take what Rowan was already offering.

But all it took was a little peek into their bond and a little more attention to the erratic magical undertone in the room for Lorcan to know how wrong it would be.

Lorcan gently pushed Rowan away from where he had thrown them both on the bed. The other man instantly clung tighter, whimpering desperately. His eyes were glazed over, almost as if he wasn’t there. The bond seemed to be churning with unrest and a feeling of sickness washed over Lorcan.

God, how had he not noticed before?

“Rowan stop,” Lorcan saif softly but firmly.

The other man immediately stilled, pulling away like he had been hit, a feeling of dread going through them.

Shit, he really should have thought his wording through.

Before Rowan could make a run for it, Lorcan hugged him close, guiding Rowan’s head to his shoulder. The other man instantly melted against him, a soft whine coming from his lips.

“I know. I know. It’s okay,”

Rowan just cried harder, pushing himself into Lorcan’s embrace, as if he wanted to fuse with him.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Take a deep breathe and let’s get back on the bed, okay?”

Rowan nodded but kept his grip on Lorcan, almost like he was unable to let go. Instead of prying his hands away, Lorcan just scooped him up, pulling a startled squeak from his throat that would have been hilarious in any other situation. As it was, Lorcan couldn’t bring himself to even smile.

Not letting go of his youngest soulmate, Lorcan manoeuvred them so he was sitting up against the headboard with Rowan curled against his chest.

“Better?” whispered Lorcan

Rowan nodded and hid his face in Lorcan’s neck.

“Hmmm,” said Lorcan, “You know, you don’t have to have sex with me to get me to touch you,”

Rowan tensed up and Lorcan gently shushed him, “It’s okay. I’m not mad. I just wish you would have asked me,”

The younger man let out a shattered sob, completely breaking Lorcan’s heart.

“Oh Rowan,” Lorcan murmured into his hair, “It’s alright. It’s alright. Please tell me what’s wrong,”

“I just- I don’t,” tried Rowan, crying too hard to speak properly

Lorcan remembered the conversation with Vaughan from earlier.

“You don’t know how to ask, is that it?”

Rowan nodded.

With a sigh, Lorcan carded his fingers through Rowan’s hair, “Just so you know, when you are able to ask we will always listen, we will never turn you away,”

Rowan tightened his hands in Lorcan’s shirt.

“But you already know that don’t you? That’s not really the whole problem is it?”

Lorcan thought about everything he knew about Rowan, about Lyria and about the way he had punished himself for years for her death, how he probably still punished himself.

God, it made sense in a twisted way.

“You deserve it you know,” said Lorcan, making Rowan’s cry harder, “You deserve to be cared for, to be loved, to be held. Whatever you think, please believe you deserve those things,”

“It’s hard,” said Rowan, lifting his head away a little, trying to even his breathing

Lorcan wiped away his tears with one hand, keeping the other one in his hair, “I know Rowan,”

Once Rowan had stopped crying, Lorcan kissed his forehead and made a suggestion.

“Why don’t you practice, hmmm? Telling me what you need,”

Rowan tensed again so Lorcan squeezed him tighter, “Don’t worry. I won’t let you go. It was just a suggestion. It’s not like you have to ask out loud. You could just come flop in my lap during any time of the day and I would hug the life out of you,”

Rowan chuckled, a little teary and a little broken, “Okay,”

“Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll try,”

Lorcan smiled and kissed his forehead again.

Rowan sat up, putting a little distance between their bodies but keeping their legs tangled together. Lorcan kept rubbing his arm, hoping to both comfort and encourage.

He opened his mouth once and then closed, tried against but he was obviously struggling to get the words out.

“It’s okay,” Lorcan soothed, “You don’t have to right now,”

Rowan shook his head and shut his eyes tight.

Taking a deep breathe he tried again, “Lo-Lorcan?”

“Yes, Rowan,” said Lorcan, keeping his voice gentle

“Will you- would you please-”

He broke off again, making a frustrated sound.

Lorcan leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against his temple, “Take your time, Ro,”

Rowan took another shuddering breath and swallowed.

“Lorcan, would you please hug me,” he said, voice so quiet and small that it made Lorcan’s hear ache.

He instantly pulled the younger man closer, wrapping his arms around him and pressing kisses into his hair.

“I'm so proud of you, beautiful,”

Rowan made a small noise of contentment and snuggled closer.

“It started getting worse after the cake,” murmured Rowan after a while, head still buried in Lorcan’s shoulder.

Lorcan frowned “What do you mean?”

That had been months ago.

Rowan untangled them a little so he could look at Lorcan properly, “I was pretty drunk when I asked you to stay the night and waking up next to you felt so good, all cuddled up in our arms. After the I wanted to do it again but I just, couldn’t ask,”

“So at first you started getting drunk a lot more and then when Gavriel started to get worried, you started having so much sex with me that Vaughan started noticing,”

“Yes,” whispered Rowan, looking ashamed, “I’m sorry. I feel like I used you,”

Lorcan shook his head, “I don’t feel used. If anything I enjoyed it so greatly that it took a conversation with Vaughan for me to realize what was going on with you,”

Rowan smiled and snuggled closer. Going over their conversation, Lorcan got another idea.

“Hey Rowan?” said Lorcan, “What if we slept in the same bed,”

“Today?” asked Rowan

“Well, yes today,” said Lorcan, “But what if we just share a bed all the time, hmmm? Would you like that?”

Rowan’s face lit up with a grin and he surged up to give Lorcan a kiss on the lips.

“Yes. Yes. I would love it,”

Lorcan smiled and felt a questioning tug down their bond. He looked down at Rowan who nodded, beaming up at him.

A moment later, the door opened and a mountain lion bounded in, Vaughan just behind him. Gavriel came on the bed and flopped down on their legs, somehow making himself comfortable. Vaughan chose to sit on Rowan’s other side, wrapping his arms around the younger man and kissing his head.

“Everything okay?” asked Vaughan

Rowan nodded and smiled at them, “Yeah, everything is okay,”

XXX

Lorcan entered the kitchen to laughter and chatter coming from his soulmates.

“What are you three doing up before me?”

“Maeve isn’t here so we thought we could have a more informal breakfast,” said Rowan, setting down the glasses on the table

“Why so early though?”

“Because,” said Gavriel, “If you had woken up first you would have started making breakfast and we wanted to do something nice for you,”

“Um...why?” asked Lorcan

“Well you take care of us all the time,” said Vaughan, “Just thought we would return the favour for once,”

“Is that alright?” said Rowan, his voice betraying just a little bit of uncertainty.

Lorcan smiled and slung his arm around the silver-haired man, “It’s wonderful. Thank you. What were you working on?”

The three grinned and pulled him over to the table for a crowded but delicious buffet of breakfast foods.

XXX

Lorcan was relaxing on the balcony when he felt cold water splash onto his face. He straightened up into a sitting position and looked above him. There were two birds hovering over him, a small bucket clutched in their claws.

He could hear Gavriel’s laughter from inside.

Those little shits!

XXX

Lorcan was arguing with Maeve again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

“I just don't understand why you won’t just let him go visit, Maeve,”

“Rowan is needed here Lorcan,” said Maeve

“And I’m not arguing with that Maeve,” said Loran. “But telling him he can’t go visit his family for just a week? Isn’t that a bit much,”

“Are you questioning my ruling?” asked Maeve, voice low and dangerous. A clear indication for his to shut the hell up.

He did not shut up.

“Yes, Maeve,” said Lorcan, “I am actually questioning it because it makes no sense,”

Maeve scoffed, “You never used to act like. You used to be such a sweetheart, my god what happened to you?”

Lorcan bit his lip. He always hated it when she made comments like that but at the moment he had other things on his mind.

“I don’t know Maeve,” said Lorcan, “What can I say? I’m an adult now, have been an adult for a couple of centuries. It’s a pity that you’ve regressed to childish behaviours like keeping one of your soulmates from his family as if he’s your prisoner,”

It was only because of years of living with her that he was able to dodge the glass that was hurled his way, letting crash against the wall next to him.

“Oh look, Maeve,” he said mockingly, “Seems like you missed,”

He marched out of the room before she could say anything else. Vaughan met him at the end of the hall, glancing at the door behind him and looking worried.

“Are you okay?” asked Vaughan, linking their arms together, “That felt intense,”

Lorcan shrugged and answered, “Just an argument,”

“Did she throw something again?” asked Vaughan with concern lacing his words

Lorcan shrugged again, “I provoked her,”

Vaughan frowned but nodded his acceptance and didn't say anything else.

Later that evening there was a letter delivered to his door.

Dear Lorcan,

I apologize for losing my temper earlier today. That was unbecoming of me. I have done some thinking and I have realized that you were right. Rowan should be able to see his family so I came up with a solution that I hope will benefit everyone. I have decided to invite some members of the Whitethorn family for dinner. That way Rowan can stay here and see his family.

I just can not stand when someone accuses me of not treating my soulmates well, especially since I choose to have a distant relationship with some of you.

You should come out to the rose garden tonight. We can walk under the moon like as we used to when you were a little boy.

Awaiting your forgiveness,

Maeve

Lorcan sighed. Another apology letter.

He went to his closet and hunted through it until he found a blue wooden box. He slid it open and stuffed the letter with every other apology he had received from her over the centuries.

At least, Rowan would get a nice family dinner out of it.

The next morning when Vaughan asked how he was, he answered him with a genuine smile.

“We had a talk yesterday. Took a walk in the rose garden. Maeve and I are fine,”

He pretended not to notice the looks Gavriel and Rowan gave each other.

They were fine.

XXX

Lorcan, Vaughan, Gavriel and Rowan were sitting in the small study and putting their finishing touches on the reports.

Rowan finished and set aside his finished paper to work on another one. A minute later, he picked up the same paper and handed it to Gavriel, who handed his to Lorcan who handed his own to Vaughan. Vaughan then handed his own to Rowan.

Working like that, they spent their evening finishing and signing reports and reading them over and editing them for each other.

Once they were finished, Rowan leaned back and stretched, “I love the bond. It’s so damn efficient. Even me and Enda couldn't work as seamlessly as this and we were trained to basically be an extension of each other,”

“We actually didn’t use it a lot before you came along,” said Gavriel, Lorcan and Vaughan nodding their agreement

“Really? Why not?”

Gavriel shrugged as he answered, “Really not sure. We just never use it consciously. Of course, we always knew where the other person was if we wanted to and we couldn’t really hide it when we were too upset but other then that, the bond pretty much just stayed dormant. Just a constant thing in the back of our heads,”

“Though I have to say it is useful,” said Lorcan, “If not a little loud,”

“Come now,” said Vaughan, “I think we’ve gotten much better at it. Remember when Rowan first joined, we could barely keep out of each other’s heads, especially when one us was feeling strongly about a situation”

Loran grinned. Vaughan was putting it mildly. It had lead to some embarrassing situations. Lorcan loved Gavriel but he did not want to know his preferences in bed and apparently Vaughan and Gavriel felt the same way about him and Rowan.

“I like that we’re closer because of it,” said Gavriel

Lorcan smiled. He liked it too.

XXX

Rowan sighed from under Lorcan, bringing his hand up to cup Lorcan’s neck, “I like when we’re like this, your whole weight on top of me, just lying here and doing nothing,”

“Oh?” said Lorcan, gently nuzzling Rowan’s cheek, “What else do you like?”

“Hmmm,” said Rowan, thoughtfully, “I like it when you pull my hair just a little and when you kiss behind my ear,”

“Like this,” said Lorcan, placing his lips behind Rowan’s ear

Rowan gave a small laugh, “Yeah, like that,”

“Anything else,” said Lorcan, looking down at his lovely soulmate.

“I like it when you take me against a wall, when you fuck me so hard that I can barely remember my own name and when you leave me unable to walk in the morning,”

“Well, I already knew that,” said Loran, gently biting Rowan’s earlobe, “You’ve always made your...uh appreciation...for rough sex very clear, very loudly,”

Rowan's face turned a soft pink, “It’s not my fault I get loud! If anything it’s yours, asshole!”

Lorcan laughed at him, “Anything else?”

Rowan bit his lip and looked away, a bashful smile on his face.

“I love it when you call me beautiful,”

Lorcan swore his heart stilled with how much adoration he felt right then.

“You are beautiful,”

Rowan’s blush deepened and Lorcan couldn’t help but claim his lips in a searing kiss.

#rowan whitethorn #rowan x lorcan #gavriel #the cadre #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #lorcan salvaterre #vaughan #maeve #rorcan #rowcan #soulmate au

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heyyyharry · 6 years

Note

Have Niall and y/n ever hung out just the two of them? Like before Harry and y/n got together Niall was over for a movie night but Harry unexpectedly had to leave for something so he told Niall to stay forcing him and y/n to sort of bond. Or now that they’re together y/n decides to spend more time with Niall and really get to know him as a friend.

Here ya go, I can’t say no to blurbs about my boy Niall. This is just Niall and Y/N talking about Harry behind his back. 🤷‍♀️

“So now what? Are we gonna talk about our favorite colors or something?”

Niall’s question makes Y/N laugh. She knows the only reason he’s here sitting on the sofa, talking to her, is because Harry asked him to get to know her while he went to the grocery’s. She’s dating Harry now and Niall’s his best friend so this is gonna be necessary.

Y/N shakes her head. “We can talk about anything. Something we have in common maybe?”

They both think for a second before speaking up the same time, “Harry.”

The lovely coincidence makes them laugh.

“So, how did you two become friends?” She asks, turning to the side so as to face him while he does the same.

“Harry’s never told you? We had our first uni class together and Layla ditched me that day, and I got called to answer a question about this reading we were supposed to do before going to class.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I hadn’t read a single word so I was all tongue-tied when the whole room was staring at me, and the proffessor, man he was so intimidating. Luckily H whispered the answer to me and saved my ass, so I thanked him later and we started talking, and just like that, we became friends.”

Niall‘s had this happy grin on his face the whole time he was telling the story of how he first met his best friend, and that changes how Y/N has always thought about Niall, completely.

“Honestly, if you think about it now,” she begins with a smile. “He probably did that to show off how smart he was. He does it all the time in the classes we share.”

Niall is pretty amused by his best friend’s girlfriend exposing him like that. “Possibly. But you gotta admit he’s smart, like insanely smart. He knows a little bit about everything.”

“Yeah he didn’t come off as that kind of person, you know?” Y/N squints her eyes. “I was so shocked to find out he read!”

“Yeah I know.” Niall chuckles. “He told me that, s’funny.”

“Okay, what else has he told you about me?”

Niall raises an eyebrow at Y/N in response to that question of hers. “We’ve known each other for like five minutes, you can’t expect me to betray my best mate like that.”

“Fine!” Y/N rolls her eyes knowing there’s no point persuading Niall to spill the beans because he certainly won’t. “But I feel like you already know too much about me from Harry, not fair isn’t it?”

“Hey woman it’s not my fault he couldn’t shut up about you.” Niall raises both hands up, widening his eyes. “Lemme tell ya this, when you two were going through that love-hate phase, he didn’t have anyone else to share his feelings so he dumped all out on me, and for months you were the only thing we talked about. Terrifying!”

“You’re joking.” Y/N snorts, having Niall shake his head quickly to disagree.

“He sucks at handling emotional stuff, I’m sure you already know that.”

“Well, at least he had someone to talk to about me! I had to go through that phase alone!” Y/N points a finger to herself, Niall finds the offended look on her face hilarious.

“Maybe you should try talking to Layla, she actually gives great advice. Well…She would call you names before actually giving you advice but…”

“Speaking of Layla…” Y/N heaves a sigh as she says the name of the girl who hates her probably more than her own split ends. “Has she ever had a thing for Harry or anything? I don’t know why she hates me so much…”

“Layla hates everyone.” Niall gives her a shrug like it’s some kind of proven fact. “She’s never liked Harry that way trust me. She told me he was hot but he was my best friend so it was a turn off for her, I don’t know why. And Harry’s always thought she was annoying.”

The conversation comes to an end when Harry bursts through the door with a relieved smile on his face.

”Sorry for taking too long. Awful traffic,” he tells them then carries the grocery bags into the room and pecks his girlfriend on the lips. “Were you two talking about me?”

Y/N looks up, smirking at the man. “Niall already told me all of your deep dark secrets.”

“Nice try love, but I know Niall better than you do,” replies Harry as he kisses her hair and Niall looks at her as if to say ‘I told you so’. Y/N can only exhale a laugh then gets up to follow Harry into the kitchen.

She hugs his torso from behind while he’s taking out the stuff he bought from the store and whistling a familiar tune of one of his favorite songs. She loves watching him do domestic stuff like this, it’s sexy and adorable.

“I like Niall,” she speaks up all of a sudden, and that instantly puts a smile on Harry’s face.

“Yeah? He’s a nice lad, isn’t he?”

“He is, and he cares about you a lot. We have that in common.”

“Aww, too bad I can’t marry Niall, then I wouldn’t need you anymore.”

That joke gets Harry a smack on the arm, but both of them end up sharing a good laugh about it.

“But honestly…” Harry starts once the laughter has died down. “Without Niall, we probably wouldn’t have ended up together.”

Y/N nods to agree, beaming as she presses her cheek against his back. Yup, she owes Niall for this, big time.

#i’m on my two month break from uni #i’m trying to write something everyday so my imagination won’t die with my brain lol #flatmate!harry answered #flatmate blurbs #flatmate!harry #answered #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine

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officialleehadan · 6 years

Text

New Arrivals

The dwarves finished their outfitting by replacing their RV with a massive, and astonishingly quiet, HUMVEE.

To Brandon’s astonishment the big vehicle was able to manage the difficult back roads as easily as it did roads. Blaec’s smile when he had fired the engine for the first time made even Xaenxa take a step back.

Leading them deep into the wilds was Lithuein in a rugged jeep that was nothing but mud from the fenders on down. The elf drove almost carelessly, but then he probably knew the roads they were on better than most. Thori thought the elves might have been on the continent since the Vikings first came.

It was harder to work with his maps in the HUMVEE since they lacked a table, but between him and Rhys, Brandon managed.

The Elvan camp was tucked securely against a cliff-side next to yet another lake. Lithuein must have called ahead, because they were waved into the camp with no fuss.

“Ailfar snipers on the cliff. Four. Maybe five,” Xaenxa murmured with a glance up the stone wall. She had tugged on a soft white coat and had the hood pulled up to shade her eyes. Her new rifle was slung over her shoulder and her fingers twitched as she brushed over the hilt of one of her knives.

It was the closest to nervous Brandon had ever seen her.

The sight of three immense wolves acing the perimeter actually sent the dark elf back a step until she lingered between Rhys and Blaec.

It proved to be a wise move when the wolves caught her scent and all three of them bristled.

They started edging closer until a sharp bark brought them up short and a fourth wolf sauntered out of the undergrowth. After a quick shake of it’s fur, the wolf’s body blurred and shifted into a familiar form.

“Lasca,” Evalene smiled, stepping forward. She trailed her fingers over her husband’s arm as she went and sent a reassuring smile in Xaenxa’s direction. “We knew you would come, but not when. Thank you.”

“Lady Petros,” The werewolf bowed. He growled almost inaudibly at the other three wolves until they shifted. The message was clear. He was the Alpha of the pack, and he wasn’t going to allow them to start trouble.

The three had a similar look about them, and Brandon’s hunch that they were siblings was proven correct.

“These pups are cousins of my mate,” Laska said, glaring at them until all three bowed politely to the dragon and his wife. “The lads Are Mischa and Pietor. Their sister is Racha.”

“You brought the whole pack?” Blaec asked, eying the three young wolves with approval.

“More than that,” Laska said, pleased with himself. “Four packs answered the call. Mine from California. The Badlands pack, the Canyon Pack, and the Lakes pack.”

The three packs he named were on par with his own for sheer raw power and numbers. The strongest of the Wolves, come to join the battle.

“How many?” Rhys asked, clasping hands with the wolf.

“Nearly two hundred. We left the pups and some of the mothers behind. Most of the Elders chose to come as well.”

Elder werewolves didn’t tend to grow in power the way that Elder vampires did. They did however, have something almost as good.

Once a wolf got passed breeding-age they could choose to go battle-mad. Once they did they were nearly impossible to kill. They were too insane to know they were dead until everyone else was dead.

“How many?” Brandon asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Elders? Forty-three, all told,” Lasca answered. “Ah, Lithuein. We spotted the bastards’ keep, but none of us can get close. It’s riddled with spell-mines and there’s a heavy shield around their compound. I don’t have the skill to break that kind of sorcery.”

“Rhys, think you can get in close enough for a look?” Blaec asked with a sidelong glance at the Firebird.

“If I stay high.” Rhys said. “I’ll do a quick strafing run to clear a path for you if you want me to. Most spell-mines don’t do well with fire.”

“I’ll follow you on the ground once we have a better idea of where things are.” Xaenxa said thoughtfully. “I can get through their guards. I might be able to tear that shield of theirs down. If I could get close enough anyway. But it won’t be quiet.”

“We save that for when we storm them,” Blaec said with finality. “I could do it also, if there was need.”

Lithuein gestured them over to one of the sprawling, camouflaged tarps that the elves had strung up to hide the colored tents underneath.

In one of the common areas, guarded by a pair of dark-haired elves who dripped with weapons, was the command center.

A quick look behind them showed Brandon that one of the wolves was pulling their Humvee under the cover of another tarp, this one with a handful of other trucks and jeeps underneath it.

“Why are we hiding everything from the air?” Brandon asked Thori quietly as the others went over to a long table covered in maps. “Do they have choppers?”

“It’s a possibility. Necros sometimes have good tech, and they’ve been known to hijack satellite feeds. We can’t risk getting seen,” The half-dwarf explained, equally quiet.

Brandon hadn’t known that. It explained the camp’s excellent security.

The wolves in camp all perked up suddenly, and Brandon arrived at the command tale in time to hear Lasca say; “Large vehicles coming in. Three. Military.” in a clipped tone.

Before anyone could move though, the radios crackled.

“IMDA busses coming in. Authorization: Fire from downstairs. Someone call for a boatload of pissed-off agents loaded full bore?”

Thori laughed and got to the radio before Lithuein. The elf glared. Thori ignored him.

“Late to the party, Demonkin. Everyone but the vampires are already here.”

“Shut it, half-dwarf.” Razz answered cheerfully. “Could someone please let the elf with the rocket launcher know we’re friendlies?”

“Authorization, Clan-leader?” came a quiet reply from the radios. Lithuein sighed.

“Let them through, Havaern.” He answered. “They’re expected.”

Lasca trotted over. He had been listening to the conversation with half an ear.

“I’m sending a few of mine to check them,” he explained frankly. “I know your Clans and my packs are clean, but humans-

He shot a slightly apologetic look at Brandon, who shrugged. He knew what his race was capable of. Necromancers were almost always human.

“I approve,” Blaec said shortly. “We cannot afford to have traitors in the camp. Not now, so close to All-Hallows.”

Lasca gestured to his Second, who darted off without a word. He picked up a handful of others on his way through the camp and they shifted as they made the trees.

Werewolves were one of the few creatures that sometimes looked like media portrayed them, though Brandon personally thought the reality was considerably more intimidating.

Generally the wolves stayed partially bipedal, but they were capable of shifting into full-wolfshape or anything between.

Of course, no one would ever take the pony-sized creatures for real wolves.

For traveling, they usually shifted fully. Wolfshape was considerably faster than their bipedal half-shift. In a fight, they often liked to have the use of their front claws.

In not too long, even Brandon could hear the rumble of heavy military busses coming up the hidden road. When they came into sight Brandon stifled a laugh. He wondered if Razz knew there was an elf sitting on top of the last bus in the group.

By the filthy look the elf got when Razz climbed out, he hadn’t known.

“Elves,” he said with a good-natured growl when he got into earshot. Thori laughed and Brandon moved to shake Razz’s hand warmly.

“Good to see you, kid. How are they treating you?” the tall man asked. “You’re still alive I see.”

“Alive and kicking,” Brandon answered cheerfully. “How are things at HQ?”

“They’re panicking. None of them have ever been around for a serious hoard-threat,” Razz said disgustedly. He waved at the buses and humans started pouring out. “These guys will get our bit of turf set up. Is this the command tent?”

“It is. Welcome,” Lithuein said. He and Razz had spoken on the phone before, but it was the first time they had met in person.

“Good to see you,” Razz answered, bowing politely. Brandon had questioned Thori about Elvan courtesies and sent Razz a quick breakdown the night before.

“Hello, demonkin.” Blaec said. His tone was sharp, but he wore a crooked half-smile nonetheless. Behind him was th rest of the team.

For a while there was a flurry of greetings and introductions, but they quickly subsided in the face of business. Soon, they were all gathered around the maps spread on the table.

“So we know where they are.” Razz said thoughtfully. “But we can’t just drop a bomb or six on them because we do need to keep this reasonably quiet, and they have a shield up to keep magical attacks from getting near.”

He eyed the map with a dissatisfied eye.

“We need more information.”

The voice was familiar and Brandon turned. Nick Jackson had avoided field work for years, and the sight of him coming off the bus wearing full body armor was a new one.

Blaec growled low and dangerous in his throat, and Evalene hissed, a sound like glass scraping over metal that made every elf and wolf in the clearing flinch back.

Black wings shredded through Blaec’s shirt and scales were spreading over his skin until Rhys dropped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed so tightly that Brandon could see his knuckles turn white.

“We need him,” Brandon heard the firebird mutter darkly. “Wait until later to squash him flat.”

Blaec snarled, but the dark scales receded again, though considerably slower than they had appeared.

The whole camp had frozen at the sight of the dragon’s fury. It was all too easy to forget the unstoppable force they had waiting in their midst, and it reassured and terrified Brandon in turns.

Nick had gone white, and his whole body was tense with the need to either run or go for a weapon. “I have news that I needed to bring in person.” He said tightly. “It couldn’t be trusted to anyone else.”

With one final growl, Blaec turned and stalked off to the command table, one arm holding his wife pressed close to his side.

Everybody breathed a sigh of relief as the tension faded away and the normal bustle of camp resumed.

Brandon walked over to his friend and clasped hi hand. “That could have been bad.” He said with a forced smile. “We didn’t know you were coming.”

“Neither did I.” Razz said shortly. He was clearly displeased. “Director, I wish you had told me you were going to be on that last bus so I could give Blaec a warning.”

“If you had warned him, he might have firebombed the bus.” Nick said reasonably, shaking hands with the other leaders who had come over to introduce themselves.

“No he wouldn’t,” Brandon said quietly. “He wouldn’t wipe out a whole busload of help and reveal our position just for revenge. This is too important.”

The leaders went quiet and Brandon felt their eyes on him. To his surprise though, Rhys and Thori were both smiling, and Xaenxa looked pleased.

“He’s right.” Razz backed him up before Nick could tell the younger agent off for his words. “Blaec doesn’t do well with being surprised, but he won’t touch you until this is over unless you give him a damned good reason.”

“I could be convinced to do it for him,” Xaenxa had slunk up beside Rhys and offered her furious glare to the director. “In fact, I wouldn’t need much convincing.”

Rhys loped an arm around his murderous lover.

“Without Blaec’s permission?” he asked more quietly. “You know how he is about revenge.”

Brandon wondered what it was that a made the dragon hate his director so much, but decided that asking now would be like kicking the wasp nest again. Wrong time, wrong place.

“Tell us this news that was so important.” Razz aid after a moment of quiet.

Nick’s shoulders slumped. “It’s bad news.” H admitted. “There’s a mole in the agency somewhere. We found a paper trail. Someone it helping the Necromancers.”

+++

HGE - Mismatched

What do you get when you put a dragon, his mermaid, a dark elf, a half-dwarf, and a firebird into a zombie apocalypse?

A very frustrated human, who really isn’t sure how he ended up in this situation to begin with.

Death Valley Sand

The Regency

Red Scales and Golden Hair

En Route

Silver-White Knife

A Question of Faith

Coven Court

Aftermath

Under Stone

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More Stories!

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siriuslytiff · 6 years

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Somewhere In-Between Ch. 5

Harry Potter Fic | Romance/Drama | Charlie/OC

She wouldn’t let him see her cry. He’d seen it plenty of times before – for multiple different reasons. He’d seen her cry tears of joy after winning the cup second year. He’d seen her cry angry tears when Snape had unfairly failed one of her essays. He’d seen her cry out of grief when she got a letter from home letting her know the passing of cousin she’d grown up with and was close to. He’d even let her cry on his shoulder that time while he rubbed her back, telling her everything was going to be fine. But she wasn’t going to let him see her cry because of him.

Read on FF.net or Ao3 or HPFF

The Reserve - 1996

“I just don’t understand,” Charlie started again as he walked through the heavy iron doors of the sanctuary hub, “Why I have to be the one to show her around?” He gave a cursory wipe of his hands on his trousers, not truly accomplishing anything.

“Because,” Doris Runcorn sighed again, as if she were dealing with an unruly toddler. “You’re our most experienced researcher here, Charlie. She’s going to decide if we can get additional funding from Gringotts.”

“This just seems like it’s a better job for Walliams. Or Spicket. Those two love to hear themselves talk, it’d be perfect,” Charlie tried to argue. They’d walked through another set of doors and into an office of sorts.

“To be honest with you Weasley, you’re the only one I trust here with this. You’ve more than proven yourself over the last five years. And I know you’ve been having to take some time for family reasons lately but that doesn’t change the fact that we need you here,” Doris pinched the bridge of her nose as she sat behind her desk. “Honestly, Charlie, I can see you in more of a position like mine someday. But you have to be hereto do that. This will go a long way to showing your commitment to the Reserve.”

“I don’t have choice do I?” Charlie sighed.

“Not really.”

“Alright,” he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the walls, “So when do they get here?”

“Should be any minute now, actually,” Doris said as she checked her watch. And right on cue the fire flashed green and someone stepped through.

Charlie’s body went rigid when he recognized the form that had walked from the fire place. It had been half a decade since he’d seen her disappear in a crowd at Platform 9 ¾. Her hair was shorter now and styled to be curled, rather than the long straight locks he remembered. She had a pair of glasses pushed up into her hair that he never remembered her wearing in school. But the short frame and sharp blue eyes hadn’t changed. Her tepid smile was the same. And how she clutched a notebook in one arm while the other held tight to a trunk was so reminiscent of his school days he couldn’t help but gawk a little.

No, it was true. Amelia Rutledge hadn’t changed all that much in the last five years.

“Ah, Ms. Rutledge – right on time,” Doris stood and walked until she was in front of Amelia. She extended her hand to the younger woman. But Amelia hadn’t taken her eyes off Charlie yet. Doris looked over her shoulder to her senior dragonologist who stood tightly wound and back to Amelia. She cleared her throat slightly awkwardly and Amelia finally turned back to look at Doris.

“Oh, yes,” Amelia dropped her trunk and stuck her hand out to meet Doris. “It’s nice to meet you Ms. Runcorn. Thank you so much for hosting me. The Bank so looks forward to this ongoing relationship.”

“And we’re glad for your interest,” Doris said amicably. “I’m going to have one of our senior researchers show you around the compound – Charlie –“

“We’ve met,” the two of them said at the same time. Charlie moved to stand next to Doris, arms still crossed.

“I thought you were out running around the world still?” Charlie asked flatly. He honestly hadn’t heard anything since Bill dropped her name two summers ago when he was visiting for the Quidditch World Cup.

“Put in for a transfer,” Amelia shrugged. “Thought your brother might have mentioned it.”

“It apparently slipped his mind,” Charlie said.

Doris stood looking between the two, eyebrow quirked at their exchange. “Okay, well, Ms. Rutledge I’m going to be setting Charlie as your escort while you’re here. He’ll be your main contact here on the reserve so if you need anything, Charlie’s your man. I thought we’d give you the day to get settled in and tomorrow we’ll get started showing you around and showing you the workings of the sanctuary. If that’s all agreeable to you?”

“Yes, sounds great,” Amelia smiled. “Mr. Weasley, do you mind to help me with my trunk?”

“You’re a witch aren’t you?” Charlie asked coldly.

“Weasley,” Doris hissed. “You’ll help Ms. Rutledge with her bags. Now.”

“Right this way, Ms. Rutledge,”Charlie said.

They traveled in silence as Charlie levitated the trunk in front of them. He maneuvered through the offices and onto the grounds without so much as looking at the newcomer. He never stopped to introduce her to anyone along the way.

It wasn’t until they were on the grounds that Charlie finally acknowledged her. He stopped abruptly, causing Amelia to nearly crash into her own trunk.

“What the hell is going on here, Amelia?” Charlie asked. Amelia looked sidelong around the grounds – no one was close enough to hear but there were a handful of onlookers from what looked to be a supply shed.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Weasley,” Amelia tried to play this professional.

“Oh, cut the shit,“ Charlie rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Her trunk thumped to the ground and a few more eyes shot their way. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been sent by Gringotts,” Amelia said, crossing her own arms.

“You just so happento be assigned our case?” Charlie accused, “I don’t believe it. Bill would have told me.”

“Maybe Bill didn’t tell you because he knew you’d act like this,” Amelia shot back.

“Yeah? And how am I acting?”

“Like a hot headed teenager again,” Amelia hissed out. “Like you haven’t grown up one bit.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” Charlie waved his wand and her trunk jerked up again and he sat off at an even quicker pace. “Speaking of ‘not growing up’ – I see you’re still just as good at keeping secrets from me.”

“Secrets? Charlie we haven’t spoken in five years,” Amelia was trying to keep up with Charlie, and even though he didn’t have much height on her, he still forged on ahead at a brisk pace.

“Still, post can be delivered, even in Romania last I checked.”

“You are absolutely impossible,” Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did we really have to start off this way?”

“What did you expect?” He scoffed, “That you’d come out of that fireplace and what? Jump into my arms? That I’d be ecstatic to see you? That I’d forget the fact that you haven’t spoken to me in five years?”

“That I haven’t talked to you?” Amelia knew she was speaking in a stage yell but she couldn’t contain her sudden flare of rage, “Charlie – I sent you –“

But he’d stopped suddenly again, this time in front of a small canvas tent.

“This is your stop,” he said as he lifted the flap and walked in, not bothering to hold it open for her. When she walked in, like she was expecting, the interior didn’t match the miniscule exterior of the tent. There was a double bed in one corner, a desk along one wall, a small fireplace and a chest of drawers for her to use. It looked sterile and unused. He levitated her trunk next to the bed and let it fall just a hare to far from the ground so as to give everything inside a good jostle.

“I’ll let you get settled. I’ll be back at half four to show you the grounds and take you to the mess for dinner,” Charlie grumbled, not looking her directly in the eye but instead at some point over her shoulder.

“Sounds fantastic,” She answered with no enthusiasm.

When he left the tent without a second look, she collapsed bonelessly into the desk chair.

“What have I gotten myself into?” She questioned out loud. With one last look at the tent flap she let out a deep sigh and moved towards her trunk to start unpacking the few items she brought with her.

Later that evening – 1996

At promptly half past four, Charlie showed up outside her tent. He announced himself by simply stating “You ready?” not bothering to knock or attempt to enter Amelia’s tent.

She walked out of the tent ready for the scowl she knew would greet her on his face but was still slightly disappointed to find him, arms crossed, brows furrowed and nearly glowering at her.

“Ready,” she said simply.

He gave her a once over, taking in her travel robes she hadn’t changed out of and flat shoes. “You’re going to need a pair of boots if you want to last longer than a week here,” he grumbled out.

“I’ve got a pair of boots, thanks,” she said. “Just haven’t unpacked everything yet.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and started walking off to the right of her tent. She walked briskly to keep up with him as he gestured vaguely back to the tent they’d walked from. “This is the residential area – everyone’s tents are over there. Over there,” at this point he motioned to two identical tents about fifty feet away from the cluster of residential tents “are the bath houses. Yours is on the left. Beyond that if you keep going you’ll get to some of the caves and corral. When we go out tomorrow you’ll see more of that. All the offices were in the head tent you came in at. And… that’s about it.”

“That’s it?” Amelia looked unimpressed. “You’re seriously done?”

Charlie crossed his arms and shrugged down at her. He’d had never been the tallest lad at school and that hadn’t changed since moving to Romania, but with Amelia still being at least a head shorter than him he was still able to glower down at her. “You’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out as you go along.”

“Charlie,” Amelia’s eyes turned soft and she looked imploringly at him. “I’m going to be here for at least a few weeks – can we at least try to keep this professional?”

“Professional?” Charlie scoffed, “Of course, what else would you like to see, Ms. Rutledge?”

Amelia glared back at him at the honorific. She tore her eyes away from him after a moment and looked off past him. Fine, she thought, she could play this game too.

“Thank you for your tour, Mr. Weasley. And the Mess was where?”

“That tent there,” Charlie turned and nodded to a nondescript tent not far off. Without another word he turned heel and started walking towards it. When they entered, to her surprise, it was almost full. There were all types of dragonologists sitting around. Some old and wizened while some looked like they’d just arrived the night before, still green with a gleam in their eye. Amelia wondered if that’s what Charlie looked like when he arrived five years ago.

She noticed as well that most people had stopped what they were doing when she entered and turned to openly stare. She nodded in the general direction of the crowd but followed Charlie to a small window where trays of food were being presented.

“Oi, Weasley,” came a grunt, “Who’s the bird?”

Charlie looked over his shoulder but kept walking forward and spoke to one of the older handlers, “It’s the birdwho could maybe get 10,000 galleons brought into this place, if you behave Spicket. And you’ll call her Ms. Rutledge.”

“Amelia’s fine,” she amended, shooting a look at Charlie and then sending a smile to Spicket. Charlie grabbed a tray of food and moved to sit at a table with no more available chairs. Amelia opted for a spot in the corner – away from most of the others. She could still feel eyes on her the entire time she was seated but she didn’t let that intimidate her. A handful of the dragonologists stopped by to greet her. Spicket formally introduced himself before he left but insisted on calling her “Birdie”. Grady, a young girl with wire rimmed glasses, shook her hand and welcomed her to the reserve. She told Amelia she worked mostly in the head tent with Doris. The last to introduce himself was a younger man, maybe early thirties, named Jace. She noted almost absentmindedly that he had a handsome face and a dangerous smile.

She observed some of the other handlers returning their trays to another window and she did the same. Before exiting the tent she stopped by Charlie who was laughing with a group of other handlers.

Before he noticed she was approaching, she heard one of the women at the table hiss, “She was really like that in school? Blimey, Charlie, how could you stand it?” Charlie sniggered and shrugged his shoulders in return.

She cleared her throat loudly and Charlie turned to face her. She noticed the tips of his ears and apples of his cheeks were rosy – whether from embarrassment of being caught or the ale he’d been drinking she couldn’t tell. “What time should I be expecting you in the morning?” Amelia asked.

“Half five,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes.

“I best get an early night then. I think I can find my way back. Thank you for the tour, Mr. Weasley. I’ll see you in the morning,” and after nodding to the rest of the table, who Charlie couldn’t be bothered to introduce her to, she made her exit.

Amelia did find her tent just fine. She quickly gathered the few items she would need and set off for the bathhouse, hoping to relax for a little bit before bed. She navigated there without a problem and thought back to what Charlie had told her earlier. Women’s on the left, men’s on the right.

So she entered the left tent flap confidently.

And was promptly met with the sight of a nearly naked Spicket. When he caught site of her she was sure his expression mimicked hers.

“I don’ know if it’s different where yer from,” he began as he lifted a towel for modesty, “but out here we still have a little modesty. Yer s’posed to be on the other side, Birdie.”

“I am so sorry,” Amelia said, covering her eyes. “Goddamn it – Charlie told me-“

“Aye,” Spicket answered, “Weasley likes ta play that joke on newbies. No harm done. But ye best be gettin’ over to yer own.”

“Of course,” she said and turned quickly, but not before muttering, “Fucking Weasley… I swear…”

“Oi, got quite a mouth on you, little Birdie,” and Amelia was sure she heard appreciation in his voice. Amelia entered the other side of the tent and continued on with her shower and evening routine, and could anyone blame her for the slight smile she couldn’t quite erase from her lips after hearing the slight praise in Spicket’s voice?

#charlie weasley #charlie fic #charliexoc #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley fic #chapter update #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fic

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pinkletterday · 6 years

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For The Good Of The Realm Ch1

Pairing: Barry Allen/ Oliver Queen

Rating: Mature

Tags: Arranged marriage AU, high fantasy, royalty

Summary: Marrying the ward of King Thawne was an impulse decision for High King Oliver and some in the politically tense Opal Realm are not best pleased by the union. Least of all the new Prince Consort himself.

Notes: I started writing this as a smutty one-shot for Blue, then it grew a plot and decided it was a slow-burn, then worldbuilding happened by chapter 3 and now I’m reworking it into something more plotty and less cisnormative. But till then going leave the completed chapters here for anyone interested to read.

CHAPTER 1

The Opal King’s Garrison outpost in the Plains had a festive air that night, for the High King himself and his Queensmen had arrived to make camp on his way back from the Citadel to his own home in Starling. News had come of his unexpected wedding to the young Lord Allendale of the Middle Kingdom and, though taken aback, the Garrison had welcomed their company warmly with a great feast. Every torch and brazier among the pavillions were lit joyfully, chasing away the darkness and chill of the flat land, and knights and servants of every rank and gender laughed and drank among the blazing campfires.

Yet the honored guest of the night was currently staring into the flames in a brown study, as the most trusted swordsiblings of the Queensmen Guard lay dozing around him, well-fed and mellow.

“Gods, man, I’ve seen you cut down the Seven Armies of Tarth and woo the wives of dukes and serving girls at their own tables these past five years. But one glare from a sweet little lordling and you’ve got more nerves than the first time you got your dick wet.”

King Oliver glared at his best friend the Duke of Merlyn as the men gathered around the campfire all laughed.

"Have a care, Merlyn. That sweet little lordling is your prince consort now. And I've don't have nerves,” he added, sulkily.

“Remember how you soused yourself in almost an entire wine barrel before you worked yourself up to do it that first time?" grinned Tommy, “you strode into my room thumping your chest in the wee hours afterwards and puked over my window onto Dame Thessel’s pug. She still hates me.”

"Thank you, Thomas, what would I do without your loyalty and encouragement,” deadpanned Oliver as his men rolled around laughing. “Oh yes, live a more dignifed life.”

“Why would you need encouragement, Oliver?” asked General Diggle. The head of his King’s Guard would not have been so informal beyond this intimate circle of friends, people who had proven their worth and fought at his back for half a lifetime, it felt like. “It’s not as though you’ve not been married before. I know you still grieve Samantha’s passing but its not as though you’ve been a monk before or since.”

“Samantha and I were a marriage of convenience, John. We grew up together and knew what was expected of us. Neither of us had any illusions of what our life together would be like. I had my lovers and, once she gave me our heir, she had hers.” Oliver’s sadness was not at the lovelessness of their marriage but for his son’s loss of his mother. Samantha had been a capable ruler, a good friend and loving mother. He still missed being able to entrust his household to her.

This time Tommy and Diggle both looked perplexed. “And is this not a marriage of convenience? King Thawne wanted to keep our favour without yielding his lands, so threw his ward at your head. Just as well, his own son was a comely enough lad but didn’t seem quite to your taste,” Tommy huffed a laugh and swigged his mead.

Oliver leaned closer to his two most trusted friends, away from even the passive ears of his friends. “Thawne was trying to secure our favour by negotiating a tithe, a generous one. It was I who asked for his ward’s hand to seal the alliance. He could not say no even if he had wanted.”

Diggle’s eyes pierced him with his customary calculating intelligence but Tommy almost dropped his tankard. “What in blazes? Why? Good gods, man, if you wanted to bed him surely there were easier ways -”

“Be quiet, Merlyn!” Oliver hissed in irritation. “If I wished to advertise it to all of Starling I would have done it myself! Listen.”

“After Merlyn had the Duke and Duchess of Allendale executed for their part in the Resistance, King Thawne was made Barry’s ward. His parents were popular, but the King was not, though he declared his kingdom neutral in the Reign of Darkness. The people barely saw hide nor hair of Barry even after I overthrew Merlyn, and my intelligence reported that he was only ever permitted the company of a handful of Thawne’s court, and none of his surviving relatives.”

“I saw how he was in that place. Lonely, eager to please and strictly controlled, Eobard circling him like a vulture, to what end I do not know. Even Westfold and Raymond could see it; they were both created by Thawne but either could scarcely stand the man. I did not know what fate would have befallen him had I left him in that place, so I did the only thing I could think of.”

There was a silence.

Tommy set his heavily depleted tankard down and held up a finger. “Your Highness,” he said slowly, “forgive me if I misunderstand, but it seems to me that you said you just fucking got married to a wet behind the years puppy of an easily-conquered vassal kingdom just to play knight in shining armour.”

“Well, I am a king and if my squire were more diligent in his duties my armour would shine as well,” Oliver leaned back easily and aimed a light kick at the dozing Roy Harper near his feet. The boy drowsily held up a middle finger, rolled over and continued sleeping.

Diggle snorted. “Just as well King Thawne didnt see for himself the harsh discipline of your company,” he chuckled as Oliver’s gauntlet went whizzing past his ear.

“All right, so you saved your uh, gentleman in distress,” said Tommy. “Still doesn’t explain the nerves -”

“ - I don’t have nerves -”

“- or why you’ve been shy to so much as get near him over the three days we rode from the Plains to the garrison. Not exactly the best way to allay a young lad’s nerves before his wedding night. He must think you a right churl.”

“What?” This genuinely had not occurred to Oliver. “I was simply trying to give him some space…to process.”

“If you give him anymore space, the boy could till a small field on it,” scoffed Tommy.

“It’s true, Oliver,” said Diggle. “We know you well enough to see your nerves -”

“ - by all the gods, will you two -”

“ - but to the rest of the world you simply appear aloof and taciturn. You’ve been treating the poor boy like forgotten luggage since the ceremony.”

Oliver looked into the fire in a manner he would be irked to hear described as brooding. “I went to pay my respects to him after Thawne agreed to the betrothal. He…did not seem pleased. Polite but almost frigidly so. And then during the ceremony he met my eyes exactly once - and there was such venom in them! As though I was taking him hostage!”

Diggle leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose and Tommy flopped on his back and groaned.

“Oliver, you did to all intents and purposes, take him hostage,” said his friend with uncharacteristic seriousness, “As far as he knows he stood to inherit a duchy of his own kingdom until your roving eye happened upon him and demanded his hand under threat of dire political repercussions were he to refuse!”

“That’s how royalty is supposed to be!,” exclaimed Oliver defensively, “we marry for wars and alliances and trades! I’m not taking away his title, I'm raising his standing! Thawne would not dare move against him now that he is the Prince Consort of Starling!”

Diggle had a reputation to rival Oliver’s own as a war-hardened warrior but the dark eyes he turned to his friend were deep and profound, in that way that reminded Oliver that his friend was first and foremost a husband and father.

“You of all people should know that young men and women do not necessarily resign themselves to what is expected of them,” he said gently, and the memories of a youth spent cavorting and disappointing his long-dead father arose and gnawed at Oliver’s heart. “If duty and obligation were all that drove us the world might be a simpler and more terrible place. Once upon a time you too dreamed of a life and a love you couldn’t have.”

Oliver looked carefully away from a suddenly still Tommy and swallowed down the tightness in his chest. “Laurel found a man much better than I could ever be,” Tommy made as though to lay a hand on his shoulder but then withdrew, “and I only dreamed of running away from a life I wasnt prepared to face. Are you saying Bartholomew is the same?”

“I think he has lived his life hoping against hope,” said Diggle thoughtfully. “and that he needs affection and respect more than space. He is yet barely nineteen summers past, Oliver. You need to speak to him and get to know his expectations.”

There was a pause as all three men contemplated the issue.

“He seems like the drippy, romantic sort,” volunteered Tommy helpfully. “Recite him some poetry! Compliment his derriere! With poetry.”

Diggle groaned and stood up to pour himself more mead and Oliver looked at his friend incredulously. “Poetry?”

“Well, I don’t know, some people have preference for that sort of thing,” Tommy shrugged. “Laurel likes it. Sometimes. It makes her laugh.”

“I recant it all, Laurel married a halfwit,” said Oliver tartly. Tommy wasnt allowed a chance to retort before Lady Smoak appeared before them.

Oliver stood up as she approached.

“Your Majesty, His Highness the Prince will receive you now,” she announced, curtesying low before him very properly. Oliver looked narrowly at his friend, whose demurely downcast eyes were dancing with mirth. It was typical of Felicity to make fun of him while playing by court rules.

Everyone gathered themselves up and stood at attention but a ripple of stifled laughter ran among Oliver’s inner circle.

“Thank you, Lady Smoak,” he said graciously, “please lead the way. And my Lord Merlyn,” he firmly pulled the flushed and swaying man to him by the elbow, “not a word to anyone! You gossip worse than a washer-woman when you’ve been in your cups.”

“Pffft! Slander and infamy! I’d challenge you to a duel, sir, if I could be arsed!” Tommy pushed him away and gesticulated expansively as the soldiers laughed. “I am a grown man, and I keep my own counsel!”

“Good,” said Oliver, striding away. “And when Laurel and Sara inevitably get you to spill it all I would appreciate it if you withheld the part about my "nerves”. I’ve had enough heckling for one campaign.“

….

The pavillion was the largest one in the garrison, put up a discreet distance away from the others living quarters yet encircled day and night by the King’s Guard. The canvas was draped in the gold and red banners of his consort’s standard rather than the green and onyx of his own - one of the many small accomodations Oliver had made to make his consort more comfortable.

He hesitated before entering and caught Lady Smoak’s shoulder. "Felicity, is he -” he struggled to find the words.

Felicity laid her hand comfortingly over Oliver’s own but looked at him sternly, in much the way Diggle did.

“He’s very scared and very brave,” she said in carefully low voice. “Mostly because some hedge-born oaf of a king spent three days not speaking to him! Really, Oliver-”

“Yes, I know I know!” he cut her off desperately. “I’ve been a fool. Just please tell me how to put it right!”

Felicity sighed and rolled her eyes but they looked on him fondly. “Just speak to him gently and with respect. Be yourself,” her pretty blue eyes shone with sly merriment, “show him how stupidly infatuated with him you are.”

“I’m not -”

But Felicity had already given his shoulder an irreverent swat and was picking her skirts across the grass.

Oliver sighed and cleared his throat awkwardly.

No answer. He cleared it a little louder.

“Would Your Majesty like to come in?” called a voice impatiently.

Oliver flushed and entered. Immediately he was enveloped in the humid warmth of the carpeted pavillion, mahogany furniture gleaming in the lantern light draped in furs and velvets and wool. The burning camp fires and braziers outside made the canvas walls glow golden. Upon the sprawling fawn fur-covered bed was seated the new Prince, head held high as though the bed were his own throne.

This was why Oliver had kept his distance. He could not admit it to even those closest to him, but the beautiful youth made him feel tongue-tied, ungainly and at a loss. Not just because of his lanky, lissom beauty - Oliver had travelled the width and breath of the Opal Kingdoms and bedded men and women just as attractive as the prince. But because of that blazing gaze and sloping shoulders held so ramrod straight, where before a puppyish eagerness had fuelled an almost reckless boldness, quicksilver smiles and hands gesturing animatedly when he rambled unself-conscously about one of the myriad subjects that had caught his fancy.

It had first irritated and amused Oliver, this child who couldn’t stay his tongue, and then inspired a great protectiveness in him that had caught him off guard. He would have used his clout to intimidate Thawne into keeping the prince safe, but as Barry continued to hover around him like a rather endearing and awestruck fly, Oliver had realized he couldnt bear to leave him behind to Thawne’s tender mercies. The proposal had been almost spur of the moment on his part, certainly it had discombobulated Thawne entirely. Oliver had seen the wheels behind his conniving eyes turning, trying to turn it to his advantage, but there was never a question of refusing the High King of the Opal Realm.

Oliver had expected Barry to be thrown and confused, for they had forged only a tentative friendship during his brief tour of the Plains, very far from a courtship. But he had not been prepared to meet with the icy, aloof creature whose eyes had gone cold with betrayal. There had been no time or space to explain himself. Worse, Oliver only realized how much he missed and desired the boy’s warmth and attention once it had been withdrawn from him.

Barry was wrapped in a deep red robe, hair still damp from the hot scented bath Oliver had ordered drawn for him. The lantern light made his delicate face ethereal, his pale skin glistening dewey and smooth. Oliver’s mouth felt dry.

“Would Your Majesty like something warm to drink?” Barry said condescendingly. “You appear to have caught a cough outside,” his lip curled in what might have been a smile but was closer to a sneer.

Oliver began to clear his throat again before catching himself. “No, er. That’s alright. I’m fine.”

Barry nodded, and continued staring at him impassively with a curious head tilt. Oliver was unpleasantly reminded of the way his mother would trip up visiting dignitiaries by assaulting them with gracious patience.

He took a deep breath. “Barry, I…I owe you an explanation.”

“You are the High King of the Opal Realm, Your Majesty,” said Barry still with that awful courteousness, “you owe no one anything.”

“That’s not true. I owe many people many things,” said Oliver, honestly. “I owe a friend an apology when I have inadvertently stolen him from his home.”

“Mayhap your friend would listen to and accept your apology,” said Barry, not bothering to hide the bite in his tone now, “but I am your consort, and my only desire is to fulfill myduty on my wedding night.”

“I had a consort before,” said Oliver mildly, “ she was my friend.”

“Yes well, probably you were wed in different circumstances,” said Barry. His eyes were a storm in his carved marble face. “Now if you don’t mind -” he stood up and the robe began to fall from his broad shoulders.

“You were in danger from your guardian!” Oliver burst out and Barry froze, clutching the robe. “I was only trying to protect you!”

Barry stared at him for a long moment. And then began to laugh.

“It’s true!” said Oliver desperately. He strode forward and caught him by the shoulders, shaking him. “He had nefarious intentions- my spies said - I know you love him but you have to -,”

“ Did you think I didn’t know?”

Oliver stepped away, startled. “What?”

Barry continued laughing but it was an awful, bitter, near-hysterical laughter. “I see what happened. You rode into the palace on your steed and beheld a naive boy manipulated by the man he was fool enough to trust, because I alone of the kingdom didnt know of his hand in my parents’ betrayal, I was a puppet blindly eating out of his hand like a pig for slaughter. And you thought - why leave well enough alone, or even discuss your intelligence with me when you can gain a new toy and be the white knight -”

“It wasn’t like that!” Oliver finally found his tongue. “Barry, I swear, I thought you didn’t know! You were always so happy and blithe and…and,” innocent“…young!”

“So?” the Prince snapped, “I’ve been smiling and young all my life! I was thought too young to know that the Resistance never betrayed my parents, to ever be taken seriously when spent my life keeping faith that I would avenge their murder, kept smiling when I discovered the rumours were true and the man I loved like a father would destroy me like he had my family, kept finding reasons to trust and pray and hope - had my beloved attendants sent away to protect them and allay my king’s suspicions. Spent months convincing Eddie of the truth and persuading him to my side, building an alliance with Viscount West, the Earl of Raymond and Lady Stein.”

“I am young and inexperienced and I was uncertain and fearful but I would think of you every time, you who had been lost to the Opal Realm for years and yet survived on only your wits and came back to defeat the Pretender in single combat! You who was living proof to me that the impossible could happen, your righteousness and your strength…oh I was so happy when you finally came to the Plains. I was considering taking you into my confidence but then thought that you might not believe me, I had no credibility…but I thought I had earned, if not your friendship, then at least some respect!”

Oliver was frozen as Barry sank down onto the bed and buried his head in his hands, trembling after his furious diatribe.

“Maybe I would have succeeded, maybe I would have failed and been killed in the attempt,” he murmured sadly, scrubbing his hands down a face now streaked with tears. “But it would have been on my terms. After a lifetime of living manipulated and silenced and never allowed to draw free breath - finally my destiny would have been in my own hands. It may have been a foolish dream, but it was my own.”

He crumpled in on himself, huddling into the thick robe as though cold and shook with silent sobs.

Oliver slowly walked up to him and kneeled at his feet.

“I am so sorry,” he said, hand hovering over the prince’s slim wrist. “Barry, I have made a terrible mistake. Help me put it right.”

“It’s a little late for that,” said Barry, eyes red and face resigned, and Oliver couldnt honestly say it was an improvement. “We were married under sacred covenant in front of your entourage and most of the Plains. Rushed it might have been but binding it certainly is,” his mouth turned down wryly, “believe me, I searched for a loophole.”

The thought of the prince burning the candle at both ends in the nights leading to their wedding, desperately trying to find a way out filled Oliver with an ever more crushing sense of mortification. No wonder he had looked so gaunt and pale at the ceremony, no wonder the Houses of Westfold and Stein had turned so frosty to him.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” asked Oliver. “Did you think I would be so set on carrying you off against your will?”

Barry avoided his eyes, instead focusing on the hands clenched in fistfuls of robe on his lap.

“Eobard announced his son’s betrothal to Lady Iris on the same day,” he said quietly. “I was planning to ask for her hand. I do not know if she would have accepted, or if she knew of my feelings. But I was promised to you, the High King, and had no reasonable protest to voice. Eddie marrying into the Wests will consolidate their standing in court, and she consented of her own free will. Even if you released me now, she is lost to me. And had I stayed, I would be expected to stand at their wedding as the King’s ward.” Tears clung to the long sweep of lashes, and he brushed them away with trembling hands. “I couldn’t…I can’t…”

As a child, Oliver had once caught a small bird that had wandered into his chambers. Exhulting in his prize, he had run back to his mother and opened his hands to show her his trophy, only to see the poor creature crumpled and stunned, wings broken. It was the first time of many that he had known that devastation, yet as his heart sank like a stone inside him now, the guilt felt just as fresh and unbearable.

Prince Barry’s averted gaze turned hard and cold again. “Even if you did free me, I did not know if you would take offence. To fall out of favour of the High King would be ruinous to the Plains. And from a purely political point of view, it is an advantageous match for my plans,” his lips curved in a brittle smile, “just not for my happiness.”

There was a long pause as the prince’s shallow breaths evened. Oliver stayed on his knees, absorbing the new reality and the addition of yet another grievious mistake to his storied career.

He reached out and gently cupped Barry’s wet cheek, turning his face toward him. “Barry, look at me,” the young man raised his eyes relunctantly, reddened and wet but still so lovely. Oliver gazed deep into them, humble and tender. “I have done you great wrong with my misjudgement. I would not fault you for even hating me for what I have wrought upon your life. It is too late to turn back time, but from here on I will abide by your wishes and take no decisions without you. You are my consort, and I shall make you my co-ruler,” Barry’s eyes went wide at this, “I promise you, Bartholomew, Lord of the Allendale, that I will do everything in my power to help you bring your parents’ killer to justice.”

The prince looked warily at Oliver. “Is that an oath, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, it is,” said Oliver, desperate for him to see his earnestness. “I swear I never thought to trifle with our union, nor to treat you as lesser than you are.”

“What am I to you?” he asked, suddenly seeming genuinely curious. “Why did you ask for my hand? You seemed to barely tolerate me before, let alone desire me. You could have anyone in the Opal Realm you wanted, especially a princess who could beget you more children.”

“I do not need to marry to have more children,” said Oliver wryly. “I can beget a child by any woman I please or adopt one already born and proclaim them heirs. And now any child born of you will be as of my own blood as well.”

“You would permit me to lie with women outside of the marriage bed?”

Oliver shrugged. “‘Tis how my sister was conceived. And the usual practice among noble unions where one is Unwombed.”

“Yes, but it is the more powerful lord who has the right to beget, while the consort is to submit,” Barry pointed out. “Tis the heirs of your blood and name that will claim my lands.”

Oliver waved this away dismissively. “I am not a traditionalist. All I ask is that you be kind to my son, William, and treat him as your own. He is a very bright and sensitive boy, with a loving heart. Not unlike you.”

“I would never treat any child unkindly, Your Majesty, but pray do not compare me to your child,” said Barry, wrinkling his nose so adorably that Oliver had to stifle a smile. “You were certain he would not rather a mother than another father?”

“A parent knows no gender, my Prince,” said Oliver gently. “And between my mother and sister and the Ladies Lance and Smoak, he has no lack of female influence.”

“It is the Lady Smoak who helped me prepare, is it not?” said Barry, brightening slightly. “I like her. She seems very agreeable.”

Once again, that sudden shift from resolute man to hopeful boy. It was as mercurial and tremulous as spring weather, and kept Oliver off-balance yet intrigued.

“Yes, she is one of my closest friends,” said Oliver, trying to ignore a small spark of jealousy at the interest in Barry’s voice. It was rather strange, after years being jealous of Felicity’s suitors, to suddenly feel jealous of her.

“Just a friend?” Barry seemed to have caught the minute shift in his expression.

Oliver took a deep breath, reminded himself of his promise and spoke unfaltering, “Only a friend now, though we used to be lovers some seasons past. She is to wed Ambassador Palmer soon.”

“Sir Raymond Palmer of the Legends?” a hint of excitement crept into the boy’s voice. “He resides in Starling now?”

Oliver fought down a prickle of irritation rather stronger than what he usually felt at the mention of Sir Palmer. “Yes, he has set up an armory there,” full of new-fangled inventions he did not trust, “and the Legends are just a name they call themselves, they aren’t really-”

“Does he still go adventuring with them? Have they found Captain Snart yet?,” more of Barry’s despondency fell away with each question. “He is of the Plains, you know, before he went sailing and became famous. He used to give me souvenirs of his travels when we met at the jousting tournaments,” this last with an actual small, reminiscent smile.

“He’s a pirate, Barry!” said Oliver in consternation.

“Used to be,” said the Prince firmly, whose smile became rather knowing, “and a very handsome one too.”

Oliver stared at the Prince until the younger man looked away, lips twitching. He suddenly realized that he was still kneeling on the ground and rose to his feet, dusting off his britches, trying not to seem as wrong-footed as he felt.

“You never answered my question,” said Barry, face upturned to him. “Why choose me?”

“Because I desired you,” said Oliver, ashamed. Yes, he had been captivated and covetous as he had not been since Laurel, since Felicity. Those had ended so badly that the feelings had frightened him, which is why he had first tried to deny and dismiss and then rationalize them to allow himself what he wanted. “I wanted to protect you, but being around you…you made me feel light and hopeful. I thought I would be able to keep you safe and happy.” Keep you with me.

“Keep me in another gilded cage, you mean,” bitterness again laced Barry’s words, and Oliver flinched. “And here I could have sworn you thought me a damned nuisance.”

“That too,” said Oliver, unable to stop a smile.

Barry’s head whipped up in surprise before he could hide it. It was the prince’s turn to stare at him now while Oliver tried not to smile. After a while Barry own lips quirked up at the corners seemingly despite himself, and he ducked his head, the golden light illuminating a becoming rose flush on his cheeks. He drew the robe tighter around himself and played nervously with the girdle.

“So what happens now?” he asked in a small voice. “Do we still consummate our marriage?”

Oliver sat down next to him on the warm fawn fur coverlet. “Do you want to?” he asked, carefully.

The tips of the Prince’s ears went redder. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” he said stubbornly, not meeting his eyes. “The covenant of royal marriage states that consummation must take place before the next new moon after the ceremony. That’s barely fourteen days from now. As annulment would be disastrous to me and my kingdom, it must be done.”

“It appears so,” said Oliver gently. “But I have never taken an unwilling person to bed with me, and never will.”

Barry kept his eyes downcast, worrying at his girdle again. Oliver’s swept over his graceful form once more, lingering on the plush pink lips and long neck speckled with a trail of moles that disappeared down his shoulder. He wanted to follow it with his mouth, pressing kisses to the dewy pink skin whose light cinnamon scent teased him even now. His cock, rather long neglected, was starting to take interest regardless of the solemnity of the moment.

Oliver willed back his desire and laid his hand between them, palm up in clear invitation. After a moment’s hesitation, Barry slowly set his own hand upon it.

“We have a fortnight before the Rite of Sealing must be performed,” Oliver said, intently tracing the length of the delicate, graceful fingers with his rough, blunt ones. “In that time we can become comfortable with each other, so that we may consummate with minimal discomfort. Have you lain with anyone else before?”

The blush deepened again. “No, I - I am untouched, Your Highness.”

Oliver studied the boy’s face, still holding his hand in a gentle clasp. “You can be honest with me, Barry. I have no fantasies of deflowering anyone. At your age I was very far from virgin and suffered no lack of willing bed-mates,” he said wryly.

“But I am not you, sire,” said Barry, and the droop of his head became rather brooding. “I am not the most self-assured in that regard, and any who appeared to desire me feared the King more. Besides,” the lines of sadness deepened again, “I only ever wished to make love, and I only ever loved one person.”

Would the regret ever stop stabbing at Oliver? He raised Barry’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “It is early yet for us to speak of love, if indeed you ever could after my misdeeds. Nevertheless, I can make it a painless and pleasurable memory for you, if you allow me. Once our union has been cemented, you need never entertain me in your bed again if you do not desire it.”

Barry looked at him with open curiosity. "Did you love her?” he asked in yet another one of his whiplash conversational turns. “Your late queen?”

“Yes, as a friend,” said Oliver with the customary pang of guilt at her mention. “She was a sweet, dutiful and loyal companion to me and a loving mother to our son. I miss her greatly.”

“Is that what you wish me to be?” asked Barry, in the manner one trying to make sense of a puzzle. “A friend who takes care of your household and son?”

He hesitated. “At the very least.”

“And at the most?” Barry held his chin proudly, eyes bold with challenge, a boy defiantly hefting a too-heavy sword.

Oliver cupped the side of his face and carressed the line of his cheekbone with his thumb tenderly, heart skipping a beat as Barry’s eyes fluttered at the contact. “At the most, I would wish you to be my lover,” he said low and soft, heart full of yearning as he traced the strong, slender lines of the young man’s body wrapped in scarlet. “But that much neither of us can force.”

The rose in the cheek under his thumb deepened, Adam's apple bobbing in a swallow, but the prince's expression remained wary. “And tonight?”

“Tonight we rest,” said Oliver simply. “We have cleared a misunderstanding and at daybreak we must resume an arduous journey back to Starling. Let’s sleep and see what the morning brings. What say you?”

The Prince heaved a sigh of relief and nodded. Pressing a last kiss to the soft hand, Oliver got up and started throwing blankets on the floor.

“What are you doing?” asked Barry in confusion.

“Taking the floor,” said Oliver matter-of-factly.

“You do not wish to share the bed?”

“Do you wish to share the bed?” he asked pointedly. His groom faltered.

“But it isn’t right for one of your station to lie on the floor!” Barry objected instead. “You should take the bed.”

“I told you, as far as I am concerned, as my consort you now share my station,” said Oliver, unlacing his boots. “If it troubles you so, we can alternate after tonight until I can arrange your own chambers in Starling.”

He divested himself of his tunic and stripped to his undershirt to find the prince staring at him, mouth agape. Oliver concealed his amusement.

“Good night, husband,” he said politely, about to extinguish the lantern.

Barry’s jaw snapped shut, suddenly coming back to himself. “G-good night my king,” he mumbled, flustered.

There was only the sound of rustling blankets in the semi-darkness and sighs while they settled into sleep. Oliver lay awake, listening to the prince toss and turn on the bed.

Silence fell in a veil as shadows flickered against the tent walls still glowing gold from the burning braziers outside.

“I don’t hate you,” the boy whispered.

“Beg pardon?”

“I don’t hate you,” he repeated. “I feel like I ought to, but I don’t. I don’t know why,” this sounding baffled at himself.

Oliver was lost in emotions he couldn’t begin to decipher.

“I’m still angry though.”

He exhaled deeply. “I know.”

CHAPTER 2

#olivarry #The Flash #arrow #arranged marriage au #high fantasy #myfic #wip #oliver queen x barry allen

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vanillatwilight17 · 7 years

Text

A New Beginning (Chapter 4)

A/N: Thank you all for the amazing feedback I have gotten on previous chapters! I always love and encourage reviews because it shows me what you like and don't, what works and what doesn't. Oddly they also seem to motivate me to get this out to you faster.

Disclaimer: None of it's mine.

Chapter 4: A Boy and his Dad

"Henry, get up my boy!" Henry was awoken by a whispering voice on Saturday morning. He looked over at his window and saw that it was still dark out.

"Hook? What are you doing it's only…4:30? Go back to bed!" Henry said trying to roll back over and return to sleep.

"Nah! You and me are going on an adventure today! Now get up before we miss it!" Killian pulled the covers off him and threw them on the floor.

"Hey!"

"Shhh! We don't want to wake your mother! Get dressed and meet me outside in fifteen minutes." Killian walked out of the room and Henry groaned getting out of bed to get dressed to head outside.

"Hook, it's five o'clock in the morning! What couldn't possibly wait until I don't know…the sun was up?"

"That's the point! We need to be out on the deck of the Jolly Roger when the sun is coming up!"

"Does Mom know what's going on?"

"Nah, this is just between us. We should be back before she ever knows we're gone. I turned her alarm off so she probably won't wake up until around nine or so."

Twenty minutes later they were on the deck of the Jolly Roger headed out into the bay.

"Care to tell me what this adventure is that we are going on?"

"I'm taking you to my favorite spot to watch the sun come up then we are headed back to make breakfast for your mum."

"Shouldn't we have like you know….invited her?"

"Nah, I wanted this time to be just you and I. She and I have watched a good many sunsets together on this deck. On our honeymoon sometimes we never even made it below deck…"

"Ahhh ok TMI! TMI!" Henry said throwing his hands up in the air to stop the story from progressing.

"TMI?" Killian asked perplexed.

"Too much information. I don't want to hear about the sunrise 'adventures' you went on with my mom during your honeymoon." Henry said using finger quotations for the use of adventures.

"At any rate we are almost there. I'm going to throw anchor, meet me at the stern." As Henry sauntered off to the front of the ship Killian took the opportunity to go below deck and grab something from his captain's quarters. He returned above deck and found Henry sitting at the stern of the ship and he sat down to join him. The sky was just starting to turn shades of pink and orange.

"About fifteen minutes or so until that sun is peeking over the horizon." Killian said. They were anchored just off an inlet a few miles from the docks of Storybrooke.

"So what are we doing out here?" Henry asked.

"Watching the sunrise."

"But why?"

"Can I not enjoy a beautiful sunrise from the decks of my ship with my s…first mate." Killian had to catch himself. He had almost referred to Henry as his son. To Killian, that's what he was but he didn't want to force that title onto the boy if he was wasn't comfortable with it.

"I thought Smee was your first mate?" luckily not catching the slip.

"That bloody bilge rat is about as useful as an empty bottle of rum to a sailor marooned on a beach. I think you will make a much better first mate." Henry smiled and seemed please at his promotion but it quickly faded.

"For now." He mumbled under his breath.

"What's that?" Killian asked, even though he heard. He wanted to give Henry a chance to broach the subject with him first if he wanted.

"Nothing, the sky is getting brighter." Killian frowned, he had hoped Henry would voice his concerns to him first but it was on to plan B. They made random small talk as the sun daily appearance drew nearer and nearer.

"It's really beautiful isn't it?" Henry asked.

"What is?"

"The sunrise, everyone always swoons over the sunset but I think it's over rated. The sunrise is so much more beautiful and poetic, it's the signal of a new start, a chance to start something new or be someone new." Killian listened intently and took the opportunity of Henry talking to reach behind him and grab the box he had retrieved from the captain's quarters earlier.

"Speaking of starting something new…" Henry turned his head to look at him. "How do you feel about the new role you're taking on?"

"New role?"

"Big brother!"

"Oh! I'm excited! Someone I can tell all the stories in the book to, teach to sword fight, I think it will be fun! How about you? Dad is a pretty big role to fill."

"The way I see it it's not exactly a new role for me." Killian said feeling more nervous that he knew he should have, he hadn't realized how scared of rejection from Henry he was.

"You have some secret kids from three hundred years ago or something that we don't know about?"

"Gods no! In the old days Captain Hook was always careful to make sure that didn't happen."

"Again TMI!"

"I did feel paternal responsibly with Baelfire."

"My father?"

"Aye, I took him under my wing and grew quite attached to him. I never really got over our falling out about the crocodile."

"My grandfather?" Henry said.

"I always forget how strange this family tree is…I felt responsible for Baelfire and I wish things hadn't ended like they did but over the past few years I've kind of filled that role with….you." Killian said waiting for Henry's reaction.

"Me?"

"Yes you! I don't intend to ever try and replace your father. He was a good man and I'm sorry you didn't get the chance to know him better than you did. Henry I know when I first came into your life you didn't like me very much, you saw me as some dirty pirate trying to steal your mother's affections." Henry nodded his head in agreement.

"It's true, it took me a while to warm up to the idea of you and my mom as a thing, but at the end of the day you made her happy and that was what was most important. Once I accepted that and got to know you, I found out you were actually a really good guy. Except for that time you threw away my pop-tarts. That wasn't cool."

"Those….things are toxic and you and your mother shouldn't consume them! Back to the point, while you may not have always felt so strongly towards me, I always cared for you. I saw so much of your father in you, both in looks and personality that despite what was going on between your mum and I, I couldn't help feeling responsible for you. In the beginning I felt this sort of responsibility to you obviously because of Emma but also because of Baelfire. When he passed, I felt like I owed it to him to be there for you. As time went on and things got more serious between Emma and I, I started to get closer to you as well. All those hours teaching you about sailing, how to read the stars, the sea, proper sword fighting skills, how to talk to the ladies," Hook winked at him. "I felt like my bond and attachment to you was growing stronger and stronger."

"I never knew you felt that way." Henry said turning to face Killian.

"Aye. I don't expect you to share the same feelings in return but to me Henry, you are my son. Which is why I want you to have this." Killian handed Henry the box he had been holding.

"What is it?"

"Open it and see." Henry opened the box to find a beautiful sword. The blade engraved and jewels lining the handle.

"Hook…I…" Henry was speechless.

"That sword has been in my family for generations. Traditionally it has always been passed down from father to oldest child. When my brother died it became mine and now I'm passing it along to you."

"Thank you but I can't accept this. It should go to the baby when it's old enough."

"Yes you can! Besides, that would be breaking tradition! You were the first child to come into my life! Yes, there is a new character joining our story but you will always have a special place right here." Killian put his hand over his heart. "You are the one who introduced me to the role of dad, don't you ever forget it!" Henry looked down at the sword. He was absolutely speechless.

"Hook I…I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything lad, except maybe…call me Killian?" Henry looked up from the sword to the man sitting beside him. He was at a complete loss for words. He thought back over the years and the father figures that had come through his life and what they meant to him. David had been there for him the longest but he was his grandfather and that is how Henry saw him. He was there to do fun stuff with and pass down wisdom every now and then. Robin and Henry had never had much of a relationship, they had gotten along just fine but neither went out of the way for the other, had deep talks, or spent quality time together. Then there was his actual father. Neal, Baelfire, Bae, whatever various people wanted to call him, but the one thing Henry had never called him was dad. While the man was his father he had never been his dad. He never raised Henry, or taught him things, or hung out with him just because. Perhaps if they had had more time together that bond would have formed but that was a chance they had never been given. If you were to ask him about his dad, his father isn't who first came to mind, Hook was.

Hook had been there for him through everything. If Henry was ever in trouble Hook had come to the rescue. If Henry needed girl advice and he wasn't comfortable going to one of his moms, he went the Hook. Hook taught him how to sail, sword fight, properly tie a tie. He played video games with him and watched his favorite movies a hundred times with him. At that moment looking down at the beautiful gift that had just been given to him Henry felt like kicking himself. He has always said his dad was dead or he never really knew him but that was true at all. His dad was sitting right here next to him, he'd been there for years and Henry had never realized or acknowledged it. He had assumed Hook would throw Henry aside once the baby was born and never thought twice about it. By receiving a family heirloom as precious as this he had just been proven wrong a hundred times over. He had forgotten the most basic lesson his family's foundation was built upon. Having hope. He should have had faith in Hook that he wouldn't favor a biological child over an "adopted" one or that Hook didn't see him as a child at all.

"I have something else in mind actually but if you don't like it or you feel uncomfortable, Killian works too."

"What's that lad?"

"Remember a few weeks back when we went to see Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2?"

"Yes, I quite enjoy those films. What of it?"

"Remember that part where Yondu told Quill that Ego might have been his father but he was never his daddy?" Henry asked. His turn to be nervous at the prospect of rejection.

"Yes."

"Neal…Baelfire, he was my father in all the biological senses of the term but that's as far as it goes. Through circumstances out of both of our control we never got the chance to build a relationship beyond that. I don't blame him or my mom for that in the least, things happen and I like to think they happen for a reason."

"I'm afraid I don't follow your connection here my boy."

"Baelfire was my Ego and you are my Yondu. You were the one who over the years has been there for me, helped me, guided me, taught me things. When I look at all those father's day cards in the store or hear other people talk about things they did with their dad, I don't get upset because I never had that, because that isn't true, I did have it. I had it with you. You are my dad, you have been for a long time now whether either of us realized it or not and if you are ok with it….maybe that's what I could call you?"

Now Killian was speechless. This far exceeded his hopes and expectations for the morning.

"Wow…I brought you out here this morning hoping to show you that you had nothing to worry about in terms of our relationship and this baby and I'm leaving with a son."

"Nah, you came here with one." Henry smiled up at him and the two found themselves an embrace. "So what do you say, Dad?" Henry said trying out the word that had always been so foreign on his tongue.

"I say let's watch the sunrise and head back to make breakfast for your Mum, son." Killian replied with a smile.

"Hey look, it is just peaking up over the horizon. Time for another new beginning." Henry said.

"Yes it is my boy, yes it is."

They got back to the docks and tied up the Jolly Roger and headed back to the house to make breakfast for Emma before she woke up. By 8:30 the smell of bacon and maple syrup must have filled the air because Emma came walking into the kitchen still showing signs of sleep.

"What are you guys up to? It smells delicious in here!"

"We're making the most beautiful woman either of us know breakfast. Now sit down and we will bring it over when it's ready." Killian said walking over to kiss his wife before returning to the eggs that were cooking on the stove.

"You guys must have gotten up before dawn to get all this ready!"

"Dad and I went to watch the sunrise on the Jolly Roger, we would have woken you up but we wanted to surprise you!" Henry said carrying the orange juice over to the table. Emma immediately turned to catch Killian's gaze, and mouth Dad?" to him wondering what in the world transpired this morning while she was still sleeping. Her husband winked back at her in response and mouthed Later promising to fill her in.

The family ate breakfast together and laughed and smiled, anyone looking in on them would never know how unconventionally they had come together to be there in that moment. As they finished up and started to clear the dishes Henry announced his plans for the day.

"I have to head over to Grandma and Grandpa's because I promised I would help Grandpa mow the lawn today."

"That was generous of you. You want to mow this lawn on your way out?" Emma asked.

"You want to give me twenty bucks?" Henry joked back.

"Ah so he's bribing you. I see how it is. Is he coming to get you?"

"Yea he'll be here in like ten minutes."

"Ok I'll come by and get you later and steal some dinner. Let's see if I can get by without cooking a single meal today." Emma said excitedly. Once her dad had come to pick up Henry, Emma turned to her husband.

"Ok you told me you had this big plan for this morning to convince him you woudn't favor the baby him and you guys come back and he's calling you dad? What happened?"

"Is that not alright with you love?" Killian asked, silently kicking himself that Emma hadn't been part of that discussion at all, worried she would be mad.

"Of course it's alright! Clearly I have no qualms about children I bear calling you dad," Emma said pointing to her stomach. "I just wasn't expecting that outcome."

"Nor was I." He walked over and placed his hand on Emma's stomach and wrapped his other arm around her waist. "I think it took this little one to make us realize what we meant to each other and that perhaps our relationship was a bit deeper than both of us being rather fond of you." Killian lowered his head to kiss his wife.

"Well I'm glad you guys were able to talk to each other this morning. However, I didn't get my Saturday morning cuddle time with you." Emma said wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Well the rest of my day is free and clear." Killian said starting to lead them upstairs. Emma wanted to ask more about what had transpired between her husband and son this morning but she decided against it as she followed him into their bedroom. She would let it be their special moment.

Later that night when after she had successfully eaten dinner at her parents and gotten away with cooking no meals that day (lunch at Granny's) Emma sat with Henry on the porch swing. Her dad and Killian decided they were going to do handle the nightly patrol that night so the two of them had some time to themselves. Emma had made a bowl of popcorn with melted milk duds in it and they sat out there and watched the stars, enjoying the summer night.

"How is Operation Grand Reveal coming? I don't think we can keep it from your grandparents much longer. I felt like Grandma was looking into my soul today, like she could smell it on me and was trying to confirm it or something."

"I've got it almost all worked out. It's happening next weekend over fourth of July when everyone is here."

"Good! Knock everyone out at once!"

"Did you ask Killian to talk to me after what I told you the other night?"

"No!" Emma looked at her son. "Well I told him what you said, but I didn't ask him to talk to you. That was all him. So he's Dad or Killian now?"

"Dad, if that's alright with you?" He asked and Emma threw her hands up.

"I'm not the one you need to ask that question to. Is he ok with it?"

"Yea he is. We talked and both realized that we meant more to each other than we thought."

"I'm glad kid," Emma said kissing the top of her son's head. She didn't push him for more information either, she wanted that moment to stay special between her boys. "So…Operation Grand Reveal…what all do we need to do."

"Ok so here's my plan…." Henry started to tell Emma his plans to reveal the baby to everyone and Emma smiled, wondering how life could get any better than this.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I hope it was worth it. I'm sure a lot of you will have strong feelings about Henry calling Killian dad and what not but that is always how I saw their relationship heading. For next chapter the focus is going to switch back to more Emma/Killian/Baby central. I just wanted to make sure Henry got his moment since I feel like so many fics leave him out or don't think about his role in it all.

The big reveal to the rest of the family and friends will be next chapter and I hope you all stick around for it. I will try and have it out by the end of next week. Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter!

#CS ff #ouat ff #captain swan ff #pregnant emma #daddy killian #captain cobra ff #emma swan #emma jones #killian jones #captain swan #fanfiction

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