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hecohansen31 · 4 years

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Loving You Is A Losing Game

Ivar+Kidnapped Wife! Reader (Vikings! Era)

Chapter 2; Electra

“You can have your rich table and life flowing over the cup. I need one food: I must not violate Elektra.”

“Electra” by Sofocles

(Previous Chapter) (Masterlist)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I don’t know if anybody remembers this series, but I thought about bringing it back to you, since a few of you seemed interested in this and I am honestly VERY very excited about this series!

Sadly... it is slightly... too angsty for me, even more during this quarantine, so I wasn’t able to write it till I was in a mood that was sane enough to write it out, so sorry for the waiting!

As always: if you want to slip any feedback, know that it’ll make my heart beat faster and I’ll absolutely write faster!

Feedback is easy, quick and free, never forget to leave a comment, if you enjoyed this.

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SUMMARY: Being kidnapped wasn't the hard part.

Surviving in a kingdom where nobody is your ally might be more problematic.

Even more when a new life is growing in your stomach.

WORDS: 7,3 K

WARNINGS; Unstable Relationship (I think that honestly Reader and Ivar’s relationship is borderline abusive, even more if set up in the modern era, there is no physical violence, but there might be some psychological one so please be careful sweeties), Pregnancy, Talk of Abortion, Mention of Death, Betrayal, Kidnapping Historically Inaccurate, and Not following the series path.

On the days on the boats you’d try to keep your mind active, talking with Astrid, but the night… you were lost to feverish dreams.

Of your labor, accompanied by the death of your husband and child, to the point that you had come to dread night.

Even thought, unless one of your jailers took pity of you and would leave a candle burning out slowly, it’d be forever night in the dark of the heart of the boat you were on.

You had tried to goad your jailers into knowing where you’d be going, but they had been as silent as rocks.

They looked at you with pity and a vicious lust, that made you glad that Gustaf had stopped any man from ‘roughing you up’.

‘… she is the wife of a prince!’ he had commented, sending you a joking look, because drenched in dirty clothes and vomit, you didn’t look very much like royalty ‘… and we’ll treat her as such’.

Had Ivar ever gotten his hands on their wives or children, he wouldn’t have treated them like that, for sure.

You wondered whether he knew about your kidnapping.

Lagertha and your family certainly wouldn’t have left him in the shadow of ignorance.

But did he still care about you?

Maybe he’d have cared about the child in your belly…

A sudden impulse to retch brought you back from your treacherous thoughts, as Astrid called out your name, to check on you.

Although the jailers had simply thought your ‘illness’ to be seasickness, Astrid had caught on pretty quickly what it truly was, as once you were left alone, she had whispered:

‘Are you with child?’ she had asked, looking in your eyes, as you raised your head to lightly nod, and she had thrown her head to the sky of wood ‘… is it his?’.

‘I might be the wife of a traitor, but I certainly am not a cheater’ you had replied pointedly, as Astrid asked for forgiveness, raising her hands as you had lightly pushed your tied arms to hug your knees ‘… I loved him’.

‘… he’ll come for you’ she had spoken as she matched your pose, making you raise your head ‘… he has killed for much less, believe me, he’ll find you’.

You didn’t understand if she was doing this to calm you down or simply because she truly believed your husband was a beast.

“I don’t think he cares anymore” you muttered, as you cradled yourself tighter in your arms.

“I don’t think that he’d risk it for a simple lovers’ spat” she commented, and you couldn’t help but bit your lips, harshly, because although Astrid’s words were gentle and laced with sureness, your thoughts weren’t.

“… it wasn’t a simple lovers’ spat” it had been more like two words clashing through each other.

All the differences that you had had, spit against the other.

“… it just… it used to be quite… easier” you explained, finally uttering your thoughts “… when we were younger, before we were married”.

The ring on your finger was heavy to remind you that.

“You married quite young” commented Astrid, as you nodded “… it isn’t easy, even more when you are blessed with so much power and a stubborn husband”.

You laughed darkly at her comment, as she tried to turn to you with her piercing blue eyes staring at you.

“I just… sometimes I wished we had just kept it on like it was” you explained, confessing something you had never told anyone “… it just felt like we did it more to prove something to others than for ourselves”.

Your entire life had been this way.

Your romance with Ivar had started this way and had continued like that.

Even the child in your womb was a show of that.

To prove to those who didn’t believe it that Ivar was a man, exactly like them.

“Will you keep the baby”.

You had been waiting for that question for quite some time, because it had also tormented your thoughts, but to be uttered out like that it took the breath from your lungs as you choked on your words.

Eventually answering:

“… I don’t know” you confessed.

“Do you want a child?” she questioned you again, as those piercing eyes reminded you of Ivar.

“This might not be the best period to have a child” you tried to push away the question, but Astrid’s eyes focused on you tightly.

“Have you ever wanted children?” she asked “… if we weren’t stuck in a damned ship brought to our demise, would you keep it? The one in your belly”.

Nobody had ever truly asked you that.

You realized that not even Ivar had ever asked you that.

He had simply told you that to have peace, you’d have to give him a child.

He had ordered you to have a child.

And now you had one, but the only positive sensation you had about it had been Ylva’s gentleness in talking with you about it.

“… I…” you choked on your words, unsure of what to say.

Because it hadn’t ever been a question for you.

It had been a fact.

And now that it had happened…

… you weren’t sure of the answer.

“… I don’t know” you spoke “… Ivar always wanted children, it’ll strengthen his hold on the throne and it’ll…”.

“What about you?” Astrid focused the attention on you.

And you couldn’t help but want to vomit, and not because you were feeling nauseous.

Nobody had ever asked your opinion.

“… my mother died because of running around her children. Exhaustion claiming her… ” something had been unlocked in you as you confessed that and Astrid’s gaze softened “… I always… she isn’t something I want to be… I like children, but… I am not sure of wanting them, now”.

Even more in this period.

You didn’t trust Gustaf, in the slightest.

That man reminded you too much of calmer version of your husband.

And your husband did nothing without a second purpose.

“… have you thought about…?” she didn’t have to say it, but you remembered the talk with Ylva, the name of the herb she had told you to take in case you didn’t want the child.

Now it’d have been extremely difficult to obtain it.

“Yes” you spoke softly “… my… healer Ylva has told me to take an herb in case I didn’t want it anymore, but now…”.

“If you don’t want this baby, you don’t have to carry it” she spoke as if it was the most natural thing ever, and you froze in your spot “… I am not saying it solely because it’ll indeed change your life for the worse or for the better, but because if you don’t want it truly… if you aren’t ready for it… it’ll grow unloved”.

She seemed almost to speak from experience and ducked her head away from you, as you looked at her surprised.

“… I can’t… I don’t know how to…”.

“I’ll get you the herb, no matter what” she promised you “… just let me know if you want it or not”.

Something broke inside of you at that thought.

The question of the baby had kept you up till late, but you had never had a deep and stable solution, something that could be more than a fantasy.

But now Astrid had given it to you, her eyes speaking of true sincerity.

She would have helped you if you didn’t want the baby.

She wasn’t lying.

“… I need to think about it”.

“Do it fast” she commented simply, almost as if you hadn’t had just a heart-to-heart conversation “… the herb won’t work after a certain amount of time”.

“I’ll let you know” you promised softly “… I just… need some time to think about this”.

And then you were surprised as you heard the door open, and immediately Astrid pushed herself away from you, meanwhile you tried to look at your fiercest, even with dried vomit on your clothes.

Gustaf walked in, a smirk on his face as he looked at you as if he was holding court.

Everything in him seemed damnably royal and it annoyed you to an extent that you would have gladly hit him if you had had your hands free.

“Good morning, ladies” he called out to you both, only welcomed by a grimace on your faces “… I have news for you, don’t you want to hear them?”.

“Fuck you” commented bitterly Astrid, but Gustaf seemed too happy with himself, to properly care about her comment.

“We have arrived at my home” he promised you softly “… and you ladies will be my welcome guests”.

---

“I don’t fucking care about anything!” screamed Ivar as Lagertha sent him an annoyed look, as one would with an annoying child who wouldn’t just lower his voice “… it is my wife we are talking about! She was fucking kidnapped because of your ineptitude in being queen”.

“Ivar, you either calm down or you’ll be back in your cell” threatened him the blond woman, meanwhile a few guards came closer.

“I don’t honestly know what he is doing here” commented your brother loudly, on the opposite side of Ivar, closer to Lagertha than him, and with a look of pure hate in his eyes.

Felix hadn’t been his best supporter, but he had never been an obstacle to your relationship as your father and older brother.

But Ivar knew that since he had tried to overtake Lagertha and pushed shame onto his sister, he hadn’t been his biggest supporter.

But he hadn’t expected him to straight up try to cut him off like that.

“… shouldn’t he be in prison?”.

“We called a truce” commented Lagertha.

“No, we didn’t” Ivar replied, shooting her a quick look “… I just value my wife enough to know when I have to shut up and lay down my weapons”.

“Then shut up” replied Lagertha “… I am not allowing my soldiers to get slaughtered to retrieve your wife, because they run into Gustaf’s lands blindly”.

“My wife is in their hands” he spoke harshly, before he shot a quick look to Felix “… you own bloody sister!”.

“I fucking know, you idiot!” replied Felix, getting up, as he towered over Ivar and for a moment, the cripple was truly scared, because Felix’ eyes spoke of pure anger.

One that he knew all too well.

“Calm down!” Tala, his sister-in-law screamed as she also got up, her pregnant belly immediately catching eyes.

She was near the birth date and she shouldn’t have been there, but she had insisted on staying in the council.

And Ivar could understand why.

“Your silly male arguments won’t help (Y/N)” she spoke loudly, to make sure that all attention wasn’t on her “… I do agree that we can’t lose time, because she might be in danger, but I also know that going blindly in there won’t help in the slightest.”

Both Ivar and Felix were taken aback, because Tala was usually shy and gentle, she had been a constant comforting figure, but right now, she wasn’t ready to step down.

And she had told the truth.

They were also losing time arguing amongst themselves.

“… I love (Y/N), as a sister” she spoke, and now her softness broke through her front “… I can’t even fathom the thought that I’ll give birth without her by my side. But I’ll endure it, if I know that she’ll soon be safe in my arms and that we’ll be the same”.

Lagertha gently moved to the trembling pregnant woman, whispering a few comforting words, as Felix did the same, caressing her round belly, meanwhile Tala leaned against him, the man gently adjusting her so that she could sit on him, with her front against his, as she enveloped him in a tight hug.

Ivar couldn’t help but miss you even more dearly as this happened.

He just wished that he could do the same as Felix with you.

He wanted you there with him, because he wanted to apologize for the last words he had said to you.

They burned in his memory.

And he just wished he could bring you as close as Felix was doing with Tala, whispering soft and comforting words.

But he had never been able to do such a thing.

He had solely been able to break your heart.

“… I’ll wait, but…” he commented, breaking apart the beautiful moment “… I am worried for her”.

“We are all worried for her” assured him Lagertha, as she shot a quick look to Felix, who continued in hiding in his wife’s hair “… and Astrid is with her, so believe me I have no intention to let this go”.

“I’ll gut Gustaf” he hissed roughly, after that, because he couldn’t shove his anger onto Lagertha or Felix if he wanted to have some alleys in his mission.

But Gustaf?

That fucktard wouldn’t have lasted a day once he got ahold of him.

“We all agree on that” answered him Lagertha, with a dark smile.

He’d have you soon in his arms.

And he’d have his revenge.

But for now, he’d just listen in to the what the council knew about Gustaf.

He seemed a ghost, who had risen to power during the insecurity of the throne of Kattegat, meanwhile they were in England.

He had started with small raids around fellow Viking villages, and had proclaimed himself king, raising a small but sneaky army.

Lagertha admitted to having undervalued him, thinking he wouldn’t be anything too big and that Kattegat would have held itself against him.

But it hadn’t.

And now you were paying for all her mistakes.

---

A few women had been allowed inside the boat to wash your body from days of dirt and to preserve your modesty from the men’s eyes, as they gently dabbed your body with water soaked tissues that they pressed to your body, then moving you to a bathtub brough inside just for you and Astrid, allowing you a bit of intimate time.

The one it took you to give Astrid your answer.

During the time that you had had before the boat had docked, you had realized one thing.

This child hadn’t been blessed by a good timing.

And as much as you knew that Ivar would have cursed you for your decision, you couldn’t deny that if the gods had blessed your pregnancy, they wouldn’t have allowed Gustaf to take you.

They would have allowed your pregnancy to appear much before.

But in truth they were all pretty lies about the fact that you were scared to end up like your mother.

And not solely a tired woman, relegated to child bearing but one that wouldn’t have loved her children truly.

For all this time you had tried your best to fake that the growing belly on your stomach wasn’t anything more than a dream, a feverish dream.

You had tried not to get too attached to the baby.

You hadn’t considered it truly, except when your belly stiffened for another vomiting session.

You just couldn’t bring this pregnancy to its rightful end.

There were so many reasons why it was cursed.

And in the end as Astrid had said: it was your decision.

‘I can’t keep the baby’ you had whispered in her long hair, free from the braids to be properly washed, as she kept her face impassible ‘… I’ll wait to know your plan to get rid of it’.

Although the words seemed to easy, they hurt your tongue.

Almost as if somebody had decided to rasp coarse paper against it.

And now your tongue bleed, crying for the injustice of the words.

‘Sweet baby’ that was the first time you addressed it in your mind ‘… I can’t have you, right now. It wouldn’t be fair to birth you in chains, meanwhile your father has his own plan to destroy himself’.

There would have been others.

You tried to console yourself with that thought.

But your tricky mind knew that although you might have been blessed with others, they would have never ever been like this one.

And yet, it was the best choice through the worst-dealt cards Destiny had given you.

Astrid didn’t give you any judgement and lightly nodded, the only semblance of an agreement appearing between you two, as she moved to wash your hair.

And you were glad she couldn’t see your tears for the child that you had never wanted and would never have.

You tried to focus on the steps ahead, instead.

Now that you were on land, you’d have both advantages and disadvantages.

It certainly would have been easier to go escape on land, but at the same time you wouldn’t have made it quite far, hadn’t you found a way to secure yourself boat back to Kattegat.

And most importantly you didn’t know where you truly were.

You hadn’t been able to keep up the time in the stomach of the boat, although you were sure that not even a week had passed since you had been kidnapped, so you couldn’t truly understand how far you were from home.

It was almost torture to think about everything that was wrong and difficult in that moment.

Because you saw no way to escape this.

But you had to keep your mind lucid to see anything that might be helpful.

So, for now you played the caught princess, as you let the guards bind your hands together, thinking about the fact that it would have been so easy to knee them in the groin, grab the rope and tighten it around their necks, as your older brothers had taught you.

You just smiled as Gustaf moved to examine you.

“Gotta make sure that you look like the princesses I promised my people” he smirked, as he looked at the dress you were wearing, something that was quite luxurious you had to say, but it just made you feel exposed “… now smile”.

“You might have bond my hands, but you don’t control my mind” replied tightly Astrid, as he moved to examine her, meanwhile the guards’ eyes ranked over her body as you heard tight whispers of ‘whore’ and ‘fucking cunt’.

You kept your mouth shut.

And not simply because you were feeling like retching again.

Gustaf ignored completely Astrid’s comment and simply turned to you, as you ducked your head, playing the submissive lady act.

You were led away and before you knew it you were in the middle of nowhere, as you tried to understand your surroundings, but it was nothing like Kattegat, although the weather was quite much more chilly and you were almost glad when Gunnar gentlemanly enveloped you in his mantle.

But at the same time, it reminded you of your first ‘date’ with Ivar, making you feel guilty for the intimate gesture.

Ivar back at that time had been too nervous for any physical contact, but as he had seen you shivering, he had cursed loudly commenting on your stupidity to wear ‘such a light dress on such a cold night’, but he had wrapped you up in his own furs, finally finding the courage to envelop you in a loose hug.

But then as you moved further on the hidden road, an hidden city revealed underneath you, spurred on by the heavy movements of the soldiers marching with you, enveloping in a tight grip your bodies, as Astrid also looked as surprised as you.

And entire population, half the one of Kattegat, but still impressive, was living in rocks-like house, something that would have almost seemed like a fairytale, hadn’t it been reality happening in front of you.

“… I know that it isn’t as majestic as your own city, but this is my land, ladies, the one that will host you till we get your weight in gold” he presented it to you, as more people came out of their small huts.

“So, we are hosts?” this time it was your voice unable to stop itself from emerging “… why then are my hands bound?”.

“For your safety, my lady” commented Gustaf with a triumphing smile “… wouldn’t want you to run off and be brought back with the hard manners”.

“My husband will have your head if you touch as much as a hair on my head”.

Because even if you and Ivar were on strained terms, he wouldn’t have allowed you to be dishonored.

If not for your honor, certainly for his.

“Then you better behave, lady (Y/N)” commented Gustaf with hungry eyes moving to your body and you tightened the mantle around your body, as you felt like a useless bratty princess.

Gustaf clearly wasn’t scared of Ivar.

He should have been.

But the fact that he wasn’t, made him bold… and dangerous.

“… she is a princess” backed you up, Astrid as her hands went to your “… I wouldn’t forget that”.

“Princes, princesses and subjects… that’s how the world works, isn’t it?” asked Gustaf, something almost fanatical appearing in his eyes “… but that isn’t how it works in my land! I brought here the rejects, the warriors that were left behind…”.

And you immediately noticed that a few of the men around you had missing limbs or didn’t look in the slightest like the typical image of a warrior.

“… the women that nobody wanted” and this time it wasn’t simply the one that didn’t look ‘normally’ beautiful, you knew he meant that one that nobody wanted to marry and the ones that had been too abused by men to want another between their legs “… and the children that nobody wanted”.

His voice seemed to shift onto a softer tone as he said this, almost as if he had personal experience in this.

You took the information and stored it in your mind.

“… so welcome to the land of nobody, my ladies” he proclaimed with a quick look at you both “… this will be your new home from now on”.

----

Ivar had been allowed to go back home on his own, although he knew that Lagertha’s spies trailed after him.

More because they were worried that he might try to do something stupid to get you, than because they were sure he’d try to overthrow Lagertha.

And hadn’t Ivar had that ‘small’ fight with you, he would have certainly thought about that.

But now, he just couldn’t.

You had been right in berating him, after you had searched for a solution that his goddamn pride made him refuse to accept.

And now you were paying the consequences.

He knew that you had to be treated well.

That’s what he would have done with such an emotionally important hostage.

Touching one single hair on the head of such an important hostage would have meant the captor’s death, if they hadn’t the army to back it up.

Their gain would have been more if you were alive.

But you could have been bruised.

Roughed up and… made to service men.

And he would have made them paid dearly for it.

He was trying to bring himself to move away from the hallway of Kattegat, thinking that even if he wouldn’t have slept, he would have probably smelt a bit of your perfume in your mattress, when he saw somebody walking in.

Ylva, your healer and friend.

He was surprised to find her, but she smiled at him sweetly, as she moved further up to him and the guards in the hall let her come closer, although he saw a spy dispatching himself from the others, probably to inform Lagertha of this meeting.

“Ahhh look at the lucky man!” she commented softly, as she came closer to him and he tried his best to smirk softly at the older woman.

She had been the main reason why he had been able to marry you, since she had constantly supported you in your decision to marry the crippled prince, alongside helping him to get through the pain, with brews of herbs and bottle of oils.

“Ylva, what are you doing here? Are you not supposed to be in your hut throwing curses and brewing potions?” he asked trying to appear gingerly happy.

Ylva lived isolated from everyone, so he was sure she hadn’t heard the news of your kidnapping and he reasoned with himself that it was best not to say anything, at least for a bit since.

Ylva had been like a mother to you and he knew that she was also attached to you, like one.

He didn’t want to make her worry.

“… I do that only on special days, you know me, Ivar!” she commented before shooting him a softer look “… and what are you doing out of the cage? I thought that you were locked inside”.

“I escaped” he commented dryly.

“Then (Y/N) convinced you, didn’t she?” she smirked sweetly at him and hearing your name was like a punch in the gut but he tried his best to hide it “… I knew that the child would do the trick…”.

“What child?” asked Ivar confused, although a terrible sensation started brewing in his stomach as Ylva shot him an annoyed look, almost as if she thought that he was playing dumb.

“The one in her stomach, Ivar” she commented immediately and suddenly Ivar couldn’t help but choke on his own breath “… your wife is pregnant, Ivar! But I confide she has told you…”.

You were with child…

… in some foreign island…

“… she hasn’t told me, actually” he obliged himself to speak as Ylva came to support him “… she hasn’t been able to… she… an attack overcame Kattegat, and she was taken…”.

He had berated you for not having given him a child, in your last meeting.

And now you were pregnant.

And away from him.

“Ivar…” breathed Ylva anchoring him back to earth, and away from the horrible thought he had been having about you, broken and your unborn child separated in the womb from you “… I had no idea…”.

“I’ll bring her home” he promised to Ylva, because he knew that no matter what he’d bring you back to Kattegat.

And then he didn’t know if it was the shock or stress, he passed out in Ylva’s arms.

---

You had been led into one of the largest rock-houses, discovering that inside they could be quiet homely, and rich, although the entire design tended to look more like a jumble of various riches that probably came from different raids.

Or so you supposed.

You saw them throwing in a few of the ones they had successfully stolen from Kattegat as you were led to your own private rooms.

More like cells, although they were ample.

You had been locked inside, till you heard a pipping voice chatting brightly with the guard, and soon the door opened under a small key that the girl hid quickly her cleavage, but you noticed the movement, trying to search a way to make her accidentally spit it out.

She was quite a beauty, although she had one missing eye, covered by an elegant bandage on it, bright pink of something that seemed quite exotic.

But her fierce attitude definitely made up for the absence of the eye.

She asked you what she could do to make your staying better, suggesting some herbs if you were still feeling nauseous from the boat.

“I’d like to know your name, firstly” you asked, knowing that to set up an emotional bond with anyone would have been useful, even more with the woman that had the literal key to your freedom.

She seemed taken aback by your request and you were satisfied by that, although she hid her surprise quite well.

“… and my stomach is slowly settling itself on his own, but what I’d like is some information, obviously if you are allowed to talk”.

She nodded, shyly, as she ducked her head away from you, almost as if she was used to hide the missing eye on her face.

Hadn’t she sided with your captors, you would have gladly befriended her.

“Of course, my lady”.

“This place isn’t on any map, is it?” because obviously the gods couldn’t make this more difficult even if they tried.

The girl shook her head.

“… it is an absolute desert spot and if you aren’t brought her, you’ll never know of its existance” she explained with her eye full of admiration, almost as if she thought this was the best that could ever come to her.

But the truth was that much hadn’t changed.

She was still a slave.

Just because they had changed her chains with the silky ones, it didn’t mean she was out of this.

Gustaf wasn’t a freer of people.

He was a man who saw the anger of rejections and used it against others.

Ivar and he would have gotten along well.

“That’s beautiful” still you played the surprised and brattish lady part “… it is absolutely extraordinary that this was all set up with no record from any other kingdom”.

You saw irritation fall on her face, as if she didn’t want any mention of other kingdoms in her own.

Well, sadly for her, you and Astrid would ruin her marvelous plans.

“… we have no other way than to shield ourselves form the kingdoms that have rejected us” her voice spoke of a pain that made your eyes soften “… sadly we haven’t many choices, unlike you”.

You wanted to tell her that your own freedom wasn’t as wondrous as hers.

But you held your tongue and simply smiled sadly.

“Do you know who my husband is?” you asked her softly “I am the wife to prince Ivar The Boneless, and I can assure you that he made many great things, even with…”.

“… he is a prince, my lady” she commented, again that tight look that this time hit straight in the bullseye “… I was nothing but a miller’s daughter, when my master’s wife caught me spying on her at her husband’s order, catching her with a slave. She made him take my eyes and then told me I should have thanked her for having done ‘a clean job’ “.

Pure anger burned in her eye, as you thought about how similar it had been to Ivar’s.

Hadn’t Gustaf been his competitor, they might have understood each other.

But men with rage that burned so brightly would have never been friends.

They would have burned everything around them.

“I am sorry” you mumbled, as you sent her a tight look “… I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories”.

“I just look forward to the future, my lady” she commented softly, as she sent you one last look “… this place isn’t so bad, once you get used to it”.

“I hope not to sound annoying, but I really hope not to get used to it” you whispered, hoping she wouldn’t hear you, and if she had, she gave no signal of it “… and I hope this won’t sound terrible rude from me, but I’d like to relax a bit, sleep even”.

“Oh, of course, my lady” she replied, hiding quite well her offended expression from you, as she ducked away, locking you in.

And you passed the following three hour counting down the minutes to make sure that you could get ahold of the time, as you watched the color of the sky change, although the windows of your chamber had been chained in, to avoid you another easy escape.

After three hours, the girl finally came back, something much more submissive in her glance as she tried to make you talk, finally revealing you her name, Kari.

But you tried to keep everything close to your chest, as if this was some kind of interrogation.

Kari had you swiftly changed in a new dress, this was far more decorated than the one you had been dressed with, although you were grateful for the fur stitched on its shoulders because the coldness of the rocks, no matter the fireplace blazing, seeped also inside the rocks.

You thought it must be the humidity that stuck to your skin like a second skin.

Although the dress was far more covering than the other, you felt naked without your chess pendant, as you fidgeted with your fingers against its original position.

The thought of having lost it making your heart break.

Although your relationship with Ivar was quite strained, it still hurt you to have lost it.

Ivar had been so proud when he had given it to you.

It had meant the world for you.

Alongside what he had told you to accompany it.

It had made you feel for once as truly his match and not simply his wife.

As you were dressed, all jewelry you wore was taken off you and you could totally understand why, although you didn’t wear much.

Anything could be a weapon, in the right hands.

‘You’ll have them back, my lady’ had commented Kari, as she took your wedding ring matched with your golden earrings.

You doubted they would ever come back to you but you tried to simply nod, before Kari informed you that your hands would have been left unbound to let you eat in piece.

‘Please don’t try anything, you’ll simply hurt yourself’ she finished explaining, treating you almost as a child, and you played along, because you were sure that trying to escape right now would have been a death sentence.

But still the tone she used irritated you.

Almost as if you were to be treated like a precious doll.

And you weren’t.

You had never wanted to be one.

But you endured it, doing your best to keep your mouth shut.

You didn’t understand Gustaf’s way of playing with you.

This wasn’t the way you would have treated hostages.

Certainly, it was good that he didn’t want to hurt you, but at the same time…

… it made things just unclear to you.

But you were thankful to be brought out of your room, although it wasn’t as small as a cell, it made you uncomfortable to say the least, and although surrounded by guards you felt comfortable in the hall as you looked around with curiosity scanning each door and person.

You were brought down a flight of stair in a bigger room, lighted up by a lot of candles laying around, because of the tough interior of stone, making everything seem quite wary, almost a war room organized to be a parlor for guests.

As if you were guests and not hostages.

And you realized that it was what Gustav wanted to make you seem like.

Honored guests coming to bless him and his people, as you came to a ragtag table full of good smelling food, something that awakened your hunger and before you knew it your own child gave you their own blessing to eat, easing the nausea.

Astrid appeared on the other side and before you knew it, she came barging to you with more emotion than she had shown for the entire time you had known each other.

But soon you discovered that there was much more behind it.

Her hands pushed something in the back of your dress, over into your fur, sticking it to the pins in it, and she whispered in your head to act natural and you did, smiling at her in the most heartsick way.

Soon the guards put themselves between you, regaining order, as Gustaf walked in.

Both on the boat and outside of it, you hadn’t been able to get a good look on his face.

You had to say that indeed he was quite handsome.

He had long light blonde hair, which had been properly set up in a combed hairstyle, highlighting the harsh plane in his face, although he looked quite smaller than you had thought.

Had you to say something about it, you would have commented that he had been a premature baby.

He still wore extremely fine clothes, probably the finest in the entire room, hiding his figure and keeping the straightest of figures.

He might have been truly a beautiful creation.

Hadn’t his eyes shone with such a wickedness.

“Princess (Y/N)” now he addressed you properly, but you knew it was all for the people looking at you “… princess Astrid, how did you find your rooms?”.

You stopped Astrid’s remark on her lips, mumbling a soft ‘fine’.

“… I am glad to hear that” he replied, as he pushed one hand out to you, as if he expected you to take it, but you simply smirked back and moved to grab on Astrid’s one, who although hid it, seemed definitely surprised “… we shall sit at the table, by my side, as the honor guests they are”.

This time Astrid’s reply came before of your reply.

“Weren’t we prisoners?” she addressed him harshly and you moved to push her back, as something dangerous appeared in Gustaf’s eyes, but disappeared as soon as his eyes settled on you.

“You are my hosts, as long as you behave”.

A veiled threat.

And your head went accidentally to your stomach, already disappearing before you could fully understand what you had done.

“Now sit down and eat with us” ordered you Gustaf and you complied, getting sat, as you dragged Astrid with you, the guards to push the chairs out for you.

You tried to focus on the food, finally able to eat something without the need to retch it completely, finding yourself famished.

It was also easier because it meant that you could avoid conversations and just hear the other speak, although not much was said, soon Gustaf prompted you both to speak.

He started asking you questions, to which you answered with tight mumbles and slight moves of your head.

“You aren’t a woman of many words, princess (Y/N), are you?” teased you Gustaf and you simply moved to raise your head to send him a tight smile.

“I don’t think that pretty words are needed now” you commented back, as you pushed to go back to your food.

“… not even with your husband?” he replied with a devious smile, something that made your anger spike up, as it almost seemed another invasion of intimacy “… because I think that’s the only thing he can do to entertain a woman”.

You choked on your breath as Astrid shot you a warning look

Still, one thing was to insult you.

Another was to insult your husband.

Mostly on such intimate things, nobody truly had the knowledge of.

As Ivar would have defended your honor, you would have defended his.

Always

“I think that is a case in which pretty words aren’t needed” you commented sternly, as you turned to him cleaning your face in a tissue, before you raised from your chair, alerting a guard “… and so is my presence, I’d like to return to my room”.

“It wasn’t meant to offend you, princess” Gustaf’s eyes burned for the humiliation that you had put him through, but his words were pleading “… do stay and enjoy your meal”.

“I have had enough” although your stomach grumbled “… and I am tired. This is my first night on something that doesn’t move, I want to enjoy it fully”.

Kari immediately moved to follow you, meanwhile the guards waited for Gustaf’s orders, which were simply pushed out by his hand waving dismissively, although his eyes stayed on you till you left the room.

Astrid sent you one last look, her eyes sending you her ‘goodnight’.

And soon you were in your bedchamber, surprising Kari as you asked her to bring you some herbs and hot water to help you digest all the food that you had eaten.

‘… I might have exaggerated with it’ you tried your best to sound helpless and naïve.

Kari just nodded her head, leaving you effectively alone, as you grabbed the small pocket Astrid had pinned in your fur, effectively finding it was the herb you needed.

If it was like Ylva had told you, you’d have to put it in hot water and then drink it and it would have…

… it would have…

… changed you.

When Kari came back, your hands were shaking and you had hidden the herb in the ample sleeves of your dress to be able to hide it among the various herbs she brought alongside a cup of boiled water.

She tried suggesting you a few herbs as you moved to push the ones that you had hidden in the sleeves in its plate as she shifted her attention away from you, and then made your choice, proceeding to put it in the water.

Now all you had to was wait.

And then drink the awfully smelling beverage.

Kari seeing your choice brought everything away, trying to fret around you to avoid seeming as if she was wasting time and you waited for her to leave you alone, to move to check on the beverage, telling her to leave you alone so that you could sleep a bit.

‘I am truly looking forward to sleeping on something that doesn’t move’ you commented trying to brighten up the mood, although you had to hide the shivering of your hands.

And as you turned, the beverage was ready, of a dark color that made your face appear on its reflection, as you thought for one last time about whether this would be a good or not decision.

It was the best among some many bad decisions.

And right when you were moving to drink it, the door behind you opened.

And your hand almost accidentally dropped the mug.

You were halfway through telling Kari if she had forgotten you anything, but Gustaf, instead, stood on the threshold and you couldn’t help but assume an immediate defense stance and utter:

“What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to express my apologies to you, more properly” he spoke loudly, as his eyes were kept on the cup and they slowly came back to your face “… check that you weren’t truly mad with me”.

“You kidnapped me! To say that I am mad with you is an understatement” you commented unable to stop the sass from leaving your mouth.

And you hoped it might distract Gustaf.

But his eyes were smarter.

“… this doesn’t have to be bad, if you don’t make it be” he commented, as he moved towards you as you felt your body suddenly freezing in its position, as he got the cup out of your hand, before he smashed it on the floor “… are you with child, princess?”.

You shook your head, but you were already feeling tears flowing down your face.

“Because I know for sure that frigid bitch of Astrid isn’t, but she asked for a contraceptive brew, claiming that my men raped her, meanwhile she was on the boat”.

And before you knew it, Gustaf, in his slender stature, had pushed you onto the bed, pulling on your hair, as you tried to fight back, but it was no avail, since he had quickly immobilized you under him.

The worry for your belly and the life in it that you had wanted to kill making you quit any attempt of rebellion as Gustaf forced you to look at him in the eyes.

“So, don’t fucking lie to me too, little princess” he spoke tightly “… are you with child?”.

“Yes” it was a choked sob and you tried to at least escape with your face from his harsh glare, as if it lessened the truth of your lips.

And then suddenly Gustaf’s body was away from you, his weight not offending you further.

But his eyes still scared you as they set up on your body, almost as if he could already see the pregnancy overcoming your body.

“You are much more precious than I thought, princess”.

---

@imjustareadersblog @ rose1729 @flowers-in-your-hayr @girl-toxxic @xwishax @heavenly1927 @saldelys @youbloodymadgenius @ fantasygirl1864 @orendamill @ fuckindiva @ thelittlestsnart @fleursviolettes @xwhateverstyles @ castielsangelsx @ sununicorn @regalonear @ bagpipes606 @suzem89 @ stepintothelightz @crys-1029 @rls905 @skylarhumphrey @ghostssss @ darkknightrascalhero @sassybananagardenartisan @ heauxprincesa @andreiaafaria @queenboosha @ captainamericaandspidermanfan @phanisforlife @queenofthe-nerds @ dangerousgiantalmondbat @thedeadhearted @ lightdarkandanythinginbetween @ darknessenvelops @ squids-for-knees @ iashleyhood @ invisiblekat57 @ elipurple @hoodcal96 @myheartbeatsjustforyou @walkingtothesun @peaceisadirtyword @alexhandersenx @a-mess-of-fandoms @maggiescarborough

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bberryrach · 4 years

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who: rachel berry, kurt hummel ( @krt-hmml), and hiram berry (played by special guest @jstj) what: the one and only hiram berry reunites hummelberry through a variety of acting exercises where: rachel’s apartment when: saturday, september 5 triggers?: the letter “e”

Hiram Berry Hiram Berry was unhappy. His only child, Rachel, his precious jewel, was fighting with her best friend, his (emotionally) adopted son, Kurt. The world was off-kilter, and it was up to Hiram to fix it. He'd always planned for the two of them to grow old together, retiring to an upstate mansion, Rachel in the 'Barbra' wing, and Kurt in the 'Patti' wing. In the entranceway to the house would be a tasteful collection of Broadway relics, and the Berry's own grand piano, to remember songs once sung, and to bring music to a new generation...

Rachel had been a little vague about the details, but Hiram had heard something about 'lying' and 'secret' and 'doesn't appreciate what a good friend I am'. Nothing, in his opinion, that would end a decades-long friendship. So he'd asked Kurt to come to Rachel's apartment, under the guise of needing fashion help. He knew Kurt would understand that that was code for reconciliation -- as if he, Hiram Berry, would need fashion help. Taking a cold bottle of water out of the fridge, Hiram smiled as he heard a knock on the door, straightening up and looking at his daughter. "A knock on the door? Why, I think that's a guest for you."

Kurt Hummel Kurt had been keeping himself busy the past few days, which was a great way to stay numb. Luckily the wedding was only a few days away so between that, preparing for his position at work to be handed off to someone else, and working on his fashion portfolio, Kurt had done a great job of preoccupying himself. After getting a text from Mr. Berry #2 asking for fashion advice, he had yet another thing to focus on. He arranged a time to come over and so here he was, knocking on his former best friend's apartment door. It felt weird, as he'd never needed to knock before, but he really liked Rachel's dads. They were like second fathers to him, and if Hiram needed some pressing fashion advice, Kurt would give it. "Hi," he greeted, stepping into the apartment. "So what's this mysterious fashion emer-" His eyes caught Rachel's and he frowned. "I'm not here to help with your wardrobe, am I?"

Rachel Berry It was always a good day when Rachel’s dads were in town. And how could it not be? Every day in the Berry household was full of song and dance and theatrics, which Rachel, admittedly, missed in New York. Now, even more so, since she was no longer speaking to Kurt. Or any of her friend group besides Jesse, for that matter. But leave it to her dads to cheer her up.

Rachel has just gotten home from jazz brunch, where she officially introduced Jesse as her boyfriend— news which her dads met with excitement and, surprisingly, expectation. Leroy had whisked Jesse away to go suit shopping, and Hiram and Rachel we’re resting before heading to the theater to see Phantom of the Opera, a tradition every time her dads came to town. So it was surprising when there was a knock on the door, and Kurt walked through it. “Excuse me,” she started, a confused look on her face, “what are you doing here?” She turned to her dad and paused, trying to make sense of it. “Did you invite him?”

Hiram Berry Ah, the sweet young children were reunited, and now Hiram could begin to enact his plan. He ushered Kurt inside, holding his hands up in admission as Kurt cracked his code. "You got me. My wardrobe remains impeccable," Hiram grinned, taking Rachel lightly by the shoulders and guiding her over to the couch. "I don't know what is going on between you two, but we're going to work it out. Friendship can't be thrown away over petty things like clashing personalities."

Hiram gestured for Kurt to join them on the couch, leaning forward to survey the two kids. "We're all thespians here, so I've devised a number of roleplay scenarios to enable the two of you to find a resolution. We're going to start with a warm up. You're going to tell me the reason you're arguing with each other, but -- you cannot use the letter E. Kurt, you can begin."

Kurt Hummel Kurt sighed as he realized what Hiram was up to. God, he should have expected this to be a trap. He sat down as he was instructed, leaving room on the couch between himself and Rachel. An eyebrow raised as Rachel's dad put his own twist on the situation. "Fine." He sighed. "But you do realize I can't refer to Rachel at all, right? Her name has an E, and so does 'friend', 'she' and 'her'....Anyways," Kurt pointed at his former friend. "told-" 'me' had an E in it, so he pointed to himself. He then realized both Jesse and Jeffrey had Es in them, and immediately gave up. "It's not an argument anymore....Rachel has made it clear that her idea of being a good friend involves doing things she specifically knows I feel strongly against, and I think she could say the same thing about me."

Rachel Berry Rachel let her dad lead her to the couch, eyebrows still furrowed as she tried to understand what was going on. And then her dad spoke and it started to make sense. Rachel would have been frustrated, but truthfully, she desperately wanted to make things right with Kurt. Not to mention, she loved a good roleplay. After all, it was her dads that gave her such a penchant for the dramatic.

“Kurt, you’ve completely made light of the exercise at hand,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes as Kurt gave up on the warm up. She also found it very telling— he gave up on their friendship too, didn’t he? “Anyways, I’ll go,” Rachel started, turning towards her dad. “Kurt can’t...” She paused for a moment, thinking of a word without an E, “fathom that I would withhold information about my... untold suitor from him. But I only did it to... guard him from hurt.” She back settled into her seat, pleased that she succeeded in the game.

Hiram Berry Hiram listened to Kurt's attempts, raising an eyebrow at his attitude. "Kurt. That was a lot of Es. No director is going to want to work with you with that kind of attitude," he warned him, shaking his head. Hiram had hoped that he'd taught Kurt better over the last twenty years -- clearly, he'd been wrong. Turning to listen to Rachel as she gave her side of the events, Hiram nodded encouragingly. Of course she nailed the exercise -- she was his super star for a reason.

"Very well done. So you didn't tell Kurt about your new suitor and he didn't like that you withheld information." Hiram slapped his hands on his knees -- well, that was an easy fix. "It sounds like you just need to say sorry, honey, and then everyone can make up and we can go out for milkshakes at the Spotlight Diner and judge all the pitchy wannabes."

Kurt Hummel Kurt rolled his eyes at the criticism of him not being easy to work with. It was a mask, though. He was incredibly uncomfortable with this situation and wanted it over with. "In the process of trying not to hurt...uh-" he motioned to himself, although he had accidentally let an E pass through when he said process. "you did...and that's not a good....justification for lying. You could have - sorry, there's an 'e' in 'have', my bad - told....you could have said 'I want to talk to you about the amazing thing in my life, but I can't at this...." time, moment, presently, all had Es "I can't right now. I'll fill you in soon, though.' And that would've...I'd say that was okay, and I wouldn't pry or think you didn't want to talk to-....Kurt." He anticlimactically finished by changing the tense he talked about himself in

Rachel Berry “I said I was sorry, Kurt,” Rachel snapped, pausing momentarily to reflect on how well she was following the rules to this game, without even trying. “Dad, I said I was sorry to him.” She looked at Hiram for reassurance, before continuing. “It’s as if you don’t want to...” she paused to think for a second, “it’s as if you don’t want to swallow this truth. You don’t want to, um.. you don’t want to pardon us— my suitor and I.”

Finishing lamely, Rachel crossed her arms across her chest. This seemed so pointless— Kurt could never forgive her. Especially if he wasn’t using the letter E. “Dad, I really appreciate you trying to help us work things out. But I don’t think this exercise is going to do anything.”

Hiram Berry Hiram nodded as both the kids started putting more of an effort into the exercise. It was good to have them talk, and to think hard about their words as they said them. But they hadn't cried and hugged yet, so maybe it was time to move on. "I think it's helped," he replied to Rachel. "But let's move onto the next. Rachel, lie on the floor. Kurt, please stand. We're going to consider an awful, terrible world, where something desperately tragic has happened to my baby girl -- don't worry about holding in your tears, Kurt, they'll add to the exercise." Hiram stood up, waiting for Rachel to follow his instruction and lay where he'd gestured.

"I would begin with a heart-wrenching eulogy and a video message from Barbra, but... this isn't about me. I have a handkerchief ready, so Kurt, don't hold back. The stage is yours."

Kurt Hummel Kurt opened his mouth to tell Rachel how inaccurate her belief was, but then Hiram was interrupting. His eyebrow raised as he told Rachel to lie on the floor. Oh god, a fake funeral? This exercise was even worse than the last. Funerals always reminded him of his mom's death. "I.....don't want to do this one." He admitted. It was going to look like he wasn't trying to work on their friendship, but he didn't want to drag anything down even more by mentioning what his mind had associated this exercise with. But he had a feeling he was going to end up having to do this dumb eulogy anyways.

Rachel Berry The idea of a fake funeral piqued Rachel’s interest. She had always fantasized about what everyone would say about her when she tragically departed, and while Rachel had hoped to die with a few more awards and theater credits to her name, the drama was still intriguing to her. Nodding sagely, Rachel followed her dad’s instructions, lying on the ground and doing her best to look dead.

Unsurprisingly, Rachel immediately approved of her father’s choice plans for her funeral. They’d, of course, discussed such arrangements before. But a frown formed on Rachel’s face when Kurt refused to participate. “Do you even want to work on our friendship, Kurt?” Rachel asked, sitting up. “Do you even care that I’ve died?”

Kurt Hummel Kurt stood up and walked to the kitchen, getting a bottle of water for himself before he came back to the living room area. "Of course I care that you're fake dead. And I know how much you've always wanted to attend your own funeral. But...." He sighed, staring at the bottle in his hands. "I'm just not big on funerals. Even fictional ones."

Rachel Berry Rachel crossed her arms, visibly disappointed that Kurt wouldn’t eulogize her. But she also knew that Kurt was sensitive about funerals, and she didn’t want to push him. “Is it because I was such a convincing corpse? Because I can try less.” She looked back at her dad before lying down again in the hopes they’d continue her fake funeral.

Hiram Berry Hiram sighed at Kurt's refusal, shaking his head a little. He was starting to wonder whether the Patti wing of the mansion would even need to be built. "You play an excellent cadaver, honey," Hiram complimented his daughter, reaching down to touch her shoulder to gesture for her to get up. "It's understandable that Kurt doesn't want to imagine your ultimately death. My own heart is pounding. We all know that life is fleeting and mortality is... daunting." He paused for a moment, letting the moment sink in -- and then clapped his hands.

"We'll try something else. I want you to think how the other thinks. I want you to become each other. So, Rachel, you're now Kurt, married to the adorably naive and endlessly loyal gold retriever of a human being, Sam Evans. And Kurt, you're now Rachel, new girlfriend of a hot young Broadway star who, unfortunately, does not have a taste for older, married men." Hiram looked over to Kurt. "Rachel", he emphasised. "Please tell me how you feel about this unfortunate argument with Kurt."

Kurt Hummel Kurt chuckled at Rachel asking if she should be a more convincing corpse. He frowned as Hiram continued on the dark route about death, staring at his water even harder. He was pulled out of his thoughts as the other man clapped, causing Kurt to jump slightly. As Hiram started to describe their next exercise, Kurt sat back down on the couch and folded one leg over the other. He couldn't help but smile a little bit at the description of Sam, though he made a face at the description of Jesse. As 'Rachel' was prompted to start things off, it took him a second to realize that actually meant him. "Oh. Uh....I'm hurt. Because I knew sneaking around with Jesse would cause drama for our friend group, especially with Finn - who is days away from officially being Kurt's stepbrother - and that telling him would put him in an uncomfortable position. And he doesn't seem to appreciate the favor I did him by lying and keeping him out of everything. But I'm also hurt, because I think he doesn't actually like my relationship with Jesse, even though he isn't fighting with Jesse at all...."

Rachel Berry Rachel nodded along to Kurt’s words, only slightly annoyed with what she sensed was sarcasm at the end. For all of their miscommunications recently, they still understood each other well.

“Well, Rachel,” Rachel began, assuming the seriousness of the exercise immediately, “I’m hurt that you lied to me multiple times, even though I know you thought it was in my best interest. Which it was, by the way.”

Hiram Berry Hiram nodded at Kurt's attempt at the exercise. "Very good, Kurt. I'm glad you're turning your attitude around. I'd consider you for a call back." He listened to Rachel's, tilting his head -- his daughter was normally much more verbose. "Don't break the fourth wall, sweetheart. We'd like to hear Kurt's full feelings on the issue. And I'd also like to know, Rachel," Hiram turned to Kurt, "and Kurt," -- he turned to Rachel -- "what you each think the other can do to resolve the situation. What do you think will bring the two of you back together, from your point of view, and ensure that you remember to shout each other out at award ceremonies and post chummy instagram stories at brunch together?"

Kurt Hummel Kurt raised his eyebrow at the mention of a callback. He didn't play into these things as much as Rachel did, but he was glad he was no longer being seen as difficult and stubborn at least. "I'm honestly getting confused here...am I telling you what I think Kurt or Rachel can do to resolve the situation? ....I'm saying what I want Kurt to do, as Rachel, yes?"

Rachel Berry “Yes Kurt, keep up,” Rachel said with a sigh. She took her dads words to heart— Rachel was always one for notes, regardless of the role or the project.

“Okay. I guess I am upset because you lied to me, even if you thought it was for my best interest. Because that means we must have very different ideas regarding what is best for each other, and I don’t know if they are compatible. Or if I could ever trust you to be my friend again.” Rachel paused and looked down, beginning to get emotional.

Kurt Hummel Kurt watched Rachel with a frown. He knew that was the situation, in his own head. But hearing the words out loud....as true as they were, they sounded harsh. "Right...So, I think what you, Kurt Hummel, can do is....try to forgive me, Broadway's own Rachel Barbra Berry, and what I could do - even though this was not the assigned prompt - is promise I won't lie like that again. And if I do need to keep something from you because that's my idea of looking out for you, I'll just tell you that I will catch you up to speed when it's appropriate to instead of making up a fake boyfriend." He smiled at the end, so she knew he wasn't giving her too much grief over Jeffrey.

Rachel Berry Rachel nodded, keeping her eyes down for a moment. “Yes, I think that if I, Kurt, could give you, Rachel, one more chance— a real chance, I’ll see that you’ll never lie to me like that again. Especially not about a fake boyfriend, even if he was very convincing. And you, Rachel, can work on better ways to protect the people you love.” Rachel looked up at Kurt, wiping her eyes, and then looked back at her dad. “Can I go back to being Rachel now?”

Hiram Berry Hiram watched the children, a sly smile on his face. Finally, something was working. "I think that my work here might be done," he informed them, reaching over to squeeze each of their knees. "I'm going to text Leroy and go and join him and Jesse. We'll see whether he's changed his stance on very handsome older men yet or not." HIram leant in to press a kiss to Rachel's head, hoping that this would be the end of her tears. "The three of us will be back in time for dinner. Maybe Kurt will be ready to join us by then." Hiram got up, grabbing his jacket and then heading out of the apartment.

Kurt Hummel "Yes, the Freaky Friday moment has run its intended course" Kurt agreed. He stood up and motioned for Rachel to join him so that he could give her a hug. He watched Hiram leave, but turned his attention back to Rachel. "I'm sorry I've been so distant the last couple weeks"

Rachel Berry Rachel said a quick thank you to her dad as he kissed her forehead and headed out the door. As he left, she looked up a Kurt, biting her lip for a moment in hesitation before standing up and meeting his hug. "I'm sorry I lied to you," she responded, "I really am."

Kurt Hummel Kurt tightly squeezed his best friend. "Good. You should be sorry. And I forgive you. He pulled away, taking her hand in his and sitting down. "So, I want all the gossip. Because you and Jesse seem like you're already a great couple."

Rachel Berry "You should be sorry, too," Rachel said, letting their hug linger. She followed Kurt to the couch, pulling her feet up and turning towards him. "Jesse's perfect. We're perfect. He took me on the most romantic date last week." She smiled, glad to have her best friend back. Things would be weird for a little while longer, she was sure, but at least they got beyond the communication block between them and were on the mend.

Kurt Hummel "I'm sorry I didn't have the best reaction to you and Jesse. But, to be clear, it wasn't about you and Jesse specifically. I think you two make a great couple and, in hindsight, it's absolutely not surprising that you two ended up together." He wasn't trying to make excuses, he just wanted to set the record straight that he was excited for them. His eyebrows raised as she mentioned 'the most romantic date'. "Oh? Do tell"

Rachel Berry “I know, I know,” Rachel nodded, utterly tired of this conversation. All she wanted was her best friend back. “I’m glad you think that. I do, too.” She smiled as she thought of the date. “Well, he took me out to dinner at the same restaurant we went to before opening night of our first show together. And then afterwards we went sailing down the Hudson to paint pictures of the Manhattan skyline. It was a total surprise.”

Kurt Hummel Kurt removed the cap from his water bottle and took a drink as he listened to Rachel. "Woah, that is romantic. I'm going to have to tell Sam to step up his game." Kurt joked....painting pictures while sailing down the Hudson was a great date night idea. "Or we'll just have to double date sometime."

Rachel Berry “I would like that,” Rachel said with a smile. This is exactly what she wanted— all of the people she loved most together. Smiling at the thought, Rachel leaned against the back of the sofa and hugged a pillow across her chest. “And I haven’t even told you the best part yet...” She touched Kurt’s arm, excited to tell him everything. But they had time, she reminded herself. They had all the time in the world.

#ftf:kurt #kurt

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