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lovelivingmydreams · 5 years ago

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My king au headcannon Part two

So this is the follow up to this post Which is a headcanon for this au created by @rondoel Enjoy!

Something to think about The king was meditating. He was trying to familiarize himself with the mindscape again, get a better feeling of it and see what his halves had done since the split. He was sorely disappointed. There were pages upon pages of ideas, but he found no evidence of them in the fantasy realm. No traces of the epic quests the ‘light’ half had envisioned, despite how well worked out they appeared. An ‘Ultimate Storytime’ should have left traces in the kingdom. Remus at least lived out his ideas even if they were only ever half formed and lacked substance beyond the initial impulse that brought them about. The results of these outbursts weren’t all that impressive either. He didn’t examine the ideas too closely. Obviously his perfectionistic half had abandoned them for a reason and so they weren’t worth his time. The one named Roman had spent some time in the fantasy realm, but he didn’t considered it his main duty. Instead he’d wasted time on crafting ‘ideas’ and ‘bonding’ with the others. Even the impulsive Remus had prioritized interacting with Deceit over expressing himself. Disgusting. Not that he could truly fault either of his halves. Other than his purpose every trace of him had been purged from their minds during the split. They hadn’t known to distrust the others the way he knew they should’ve. Obviously the others were to blame for all this.

As he thought of them he could feel his minister’s energy surging and subsiding in subtle burst and raging waves. One of Roman’s nickname for him ‘Stormy Knight’ seemed to suit the boy quite well at the moment. The minister was mostly alone, aside from morality. Someone had to babysit him he supposed. Suddenly he became aware of music… something strange yet familiar. “Disney. Medley.” A faint memory offered him. He remembered Disney. It was his aspiration to create worlds and adventures just as amazing for Thomas to escape to when the real world inevitably bored him. Clearly he hadn’t been gone long enough for that to change. Though he didn’t recognize the melody that was currently playing, even though he could tell that it wasn’t something obscure and nearly forgotten to Thomas. The entire imagination responded to the melody as if it was an old friend. Almost as if it was born here even. There were voices singing, a magnificent harmony. Powerful and foreboding. He followed the sound of the voices and soon saw a structure appear. As he approached he found it was a massive statue expertly carved from marble. Center stage stood a figure he recognized as Thomas holding his hands in front of him to form a heart. A brilliant smile on his face. It was heartwarming to see his boy like that. To Thomas’ left stood grown Morality with one arm thrown over his shoulder and another pulling the hooded side, Anxiety, his minister, into the group. The young side allowed it with a small smirk and gentle eyes directed at their protégé. On Thomas’ right stood Logic, a steady hand on the boy’s shoulder as he adjusted his glasses, which did not conceal the fond look on the man’s face. On Logic’s right stood Deceit, his back slightly turned to the rest and adjusting his hat, but also with a soft, caring expression gracing his features. Then right behind Thomas, standing slightly taller than they would have in reality, seemingly standing on a stage behind the group, but close enough to still be part of the ensemble, was him. Or the two sides that had been him for a while. Roman looked regal and was posing as though he had not a care in the world, his eyes proudly overseeing his subjects. Not minding the presence of Remus who was hanging of his ‘brother’s’ shoulders and making a face. It was an idyllic picture that never was and now never could be. There was beauty in it’s tragic impossibility. At the feet of the stone depictions were stone letters. Fam in cursive and then in big bold lines ILY. And leaning against the L was the minister, singing the song that had lured King away from his meditation. The shadows around him were aiding in his musical endeavor drifting around him and the statue. King took in the marvel once more, wondering how the nervous side had managed to create such a blessing with what should’ve been a cruel curse for at least a few more days before King would grant the young one his council and guidance. He hadn’t enjoyed being cruel to him. Not entirely. Sure, he had opposed creativity in the past and deserved to be disciplined. But king also knew how integral he was to the process. Roman’s discoveries regarding that weren’t lost to him. He couldn’t silence Anxiety completely. He would not get Thomas to go on adventures at all if he did so. But he had to teach him his place now, before he got any ideas of fighting him. The minister had been about to try just that and might have been successful too if he’d gone all out at once. But luckily he seemed unaware of his own abilities, or at least unwilling to use them on what he still thought to be the twins he’d known all his life. Alas he’d never get the opportunity again. “It all can be sold!” the shadows chorused around the teen-like side, captivating baby Morality with their movements as the little one clutched to the dark uniform and distracting King from his musings. “As a specimen yes I’m intimidating!” One voice continued, drifting around the side who was swaying to the music playing in his headphones with his eyes closed, holding onto Morality and then the dark clad side sang himself. “You can blame my friends on the ooootheeeer siiiiiiiiiide.” And just like that the shadows dispersed. Mostly anyway. They still swirled around the minister, but they were more of a dark aura than when they originally manifested. Anxiety seemed to be in better spirits than when he came to offer his ridiculous apology to Roman. King barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the memory. What a waste of time. Still it had been sincere, at least it seemed to be. And King wasn’t completely insensitive. He could understand that it would be hard for this young one to let go of his halves when he had never known them as one. Perhaps, King could cut him a little slack. Though he would have to remain vigilant… Hmmm, why did that word feel so odd when thinking about… Right, Virgil. Everyone had names now. Not that he cared much for those. Names were too… Names were for friends, allies. He didn’t need a name, nor did his subjects. Lest any of them forget who was in charge. King wouldn’t. Never again. The infant noticed that they were no longer alone in the room and tugged at Anxiety’s hair to get his attention. In response Thomas’ guardian pulled off his headphones and looked down at the heart. “What’s wrong popstar… or… Well, doesn’t really fit right now I guess,” Anxiety chuckled a little sadly. “Guess I’m more the dad now than you, huh?” he mused. “When this is all over, I promise I’ll never complain about you treating me like your kid again.” There was an uneasiness forming in King’s stomach. Anxiety was close with Morality, both Roman and Remus remembered that. But… how close was Morality with Anxiety? King knew that their ‘moral compass’ could be as two faced as Deceit. No, this could be part of an elaborate plan to gain his trust, he’d fallen for it once before. And of course they’d send Anxiety to do their dirty work now that all of them had already shown him their true colors. Little Morality pointed at King and Anxiety looked up, curious at first and then his eyes widened in fear. He put the child behind him and stood in a strange mixture of a respectful bow and a defensive stance. Arms slightly spread to shield his friend and head raised so he didn’t quite let his eyes leave King’s frame. “I…I’m sorry if I was too loud,” Anxiety offered with trembling voice, assuming he’d angered his king someway. Good. King approached, not sure if he was in the mood to scold or to praise just yet, but stopped about three steps in front of Anxiety as his foot hit something. He looked down and saw that the floor surrounding his minister was covered in sketches. He looked up at Anxiety with a raised brow, curious to hear what had brought on this little storm of creativity. And he found him staring at the sketches around them in horror. Then he seemingly felt the structure behind him, he turned and looked up in horror, trembling even harder. He looked back at King with wide eyes. “I…I didn’t mean to…” he started. “Then I look forward to see what you create for me when you intend to do so young one,” King mutters calmly, as he bids one of the drawings to come to his hand. As far as he can tell it’s two children playing in a forest. “Tell me about this one boy,” he instructs as he shows Anxiety the drawing. The side takes the sketch with a frown and looks at it for a moment before a small smile of recognition appears on his face. “I’d manifested for about two months. Remus felt it was about time I came on an adventure,” he starts explaining, and as he does the drawing rises up and gains colors and details that weren’t there before. Anxiety didn’t seem to notice, too captivated by his own memory as he described how freaked out he was by the forest and all its creepy creatures. Remus never let a single one touch him though. Still, it was stressful for him and he didn’t come along as often as Remus would like. The painting showed two preteens, Remus and Anxiety, the later clutching a comfort item, pillow or blanket, King wasn’t sure, maybe it was a stuffed animal. They were running around and laughing. But in their shadows Anxiety was curled up in a ball and Remus was making a gesture as if he’d just popped out and screamed ‘boo’. A lovely memory with a shadow side. But that was the nicest thing Anxiety could create with the power King had granted. Once the story was done and the painting finished, King snapped his fingers and conjured a dark wooden frame with a vine pattern around it and hung it on a non-existent wall. “I’m sorry, I know you said to get rid of the feelings, but I… I can’t… I always mess up like this please I…” Anxiety flinched when King reached out for him. Curling into himself, expecting another curse or some other punishment perhaps. Which is probably why his posture relaxed and his face was overcome with confused surprise when all he received was a brief pat on his hair. “You may not have gotten rid of those feelings but you did something even better,” King laid a hand on Anxiety’s shoulder and looked down on him. “You made something out of them. I am very pleased with you,” he informed his disciple. Anxiety looked up at him confused. “Really?” he asked, his voice breaking over the single word. Before King could answer, a displeased cooing pulled Anxiety’s attention away. He turned around and picked up the infant who immediately latched onto his neck and stared at King over his shoulder. Clearly the infant retained enough of Morality’s adult thoughts to be wary of him. Good it wouldn’t be a proper curse if the traitor wasn’t aware of the danger King posed to him and his precious family. King grinned menacingly at Morality, hoping it’d confirm the child’s worst fears about his intentions for who he apparently considered a son. What could be worse than agonizing over the fact that your sins would result in an innocent paying for them? For that innocent to be your child of course. “Please Pat, behave alright?” Anxiety muttered as he got up and turned back to the king. “Sorry… Your majesty. He’s a bit clingy,” the young man offered nervously. “Not your fault. I don’t quite understand why Logic and Deceit would leave the care for such a fussy child to their youngest.” Not quite true, King could perfectly see how they thought they had to concentrate on finding a weapon against him that they hadn’t tried already. But still. One would think that the two oldest should be in charge of protecting both their young ones, instead of letting them wander off into the territory of their enemy. If Anxiety had failed to entertain him with his tale, who knows what he would’ve done to amuse himself during this second visit? Maybe he’d put morality in a bit of a dilemma… He might still do so if he ever needed for Anxiety to see that his ‘dad’ didn’t love him as much as he always claimed. “Taking care of him keeps my mind occupied. I don’t want to give Thomas nightmares or anxiety attacks. He doesn’t deserve to suffer for our messes,” Anxiety explained. King might be mistaken, but that almost sounded accusatory. He elected to ignore it. Once his rule was properly reestablished, he could revisit the subject if at all necessary, which he doubted. “Well, creating art seems to do the trick just as well,” he mused as he called forth another picture. Anxiety guessed what he wanted, looked at the picture and started to talk about the movie night and a popcorn fight, then a duel with cardboard swords and laughing about memories of middle school. The colors once again revealed a pleasant day, with a shadow of self-doubt and fear of abandonment. The shadows showed Anxiety pleading on his knees while Roman threatened him with a sword. This time the frame King made was golden and held roses. “C…Can I ask something milord,” Anxiety asked timidly. “Questions are always welcomed in the realm of creativity,” King decreed. Questions created possibilities. “What happened? Before the split I mean? The other’s won’t ever tell me.” That surprised King. And from the way Morality stiffened, he had to assume it was the truth. They’d really not taken the chance to sway Anxiety’s opinion in their favor? For a moment he considers spinning a grand tale of betrayal and heartbreak, but he found the very thought of recalling the details of the events leading up to the split… unpleasant. “I trusted them and they turned against me because they disagreed with my vision for Thomas,” he informed Anxiety calmly, hoping it was enough for now. “I’m sorry. That… That is terrible,” he whispered hugging Morality closer. The young minister couldn’t see it but there were tears in Morality’s eyes. Which pleased King. Let the bespectacled traitor be afraid this may end up being the last hug he’ll ever receive from his precious Anxiety. Was this why they didn’t tell him? Because they knew that there was no spin they could give to their deeds that wouldn’t destroy the trust they’d built with the one among them who already feared being betrayed. “I… It was a long time ago. I think… Logan seemed very ashamed of what happened. Even Janus seems to feel bad. I’m sure… can’t we all…” Anxiety struggled to express his desires, but a new drawing showed what he wanted. King and Logic shaking hands amidst the others, all back to normal and smiling relieved. Faint shadows of Roman and Remus with an arm around one another’s shoulders right behind King. The fact that his minister’s powers had conjured it showed that the desire felt impossible. King dismissed this drawing in favor of another. Anxiety sighed, accepting that the subject was finished, and continued to regale him with stories of the twins. Sometimes it was a sad memory where the shadows revealed his care and worry for them both. Like a fight over a failed audition where shadow Anxiety was trying to patch up shadow Roman. Or a fight about a nightmare where the shadow of Anxiety was embracing Remus. Then memories of the other’s came. A debate about negative thoughts where shadow Logic laid a hand on shadow Anxiety’s shoulder as a gesture of pride. A staring match with Deceit but their shadows were reaching for each other. One memory had no shadows. The ‘lights’ were in Anxiety’s domain and reaching out for him as he sat huddled in on himself on the ground. The image was conflicted enough on it’s own. Then King picked up a drawing of Morality. “That’s the first time you came to talk to me remember Pat?” Virgil coed to the child who’d been rather quiet during the creation of this gallery. Anxiety recalled how he’d been upset about another fight with Roman and he’d come over and sat with him in silence. Then he’d offered him one of his cookies. It had surprised Anxiety, he knew how much Morality loved his cookies. Sharing one was his standard gesture of love and appreciation. But Anxiety felt like he didn’t deserve either at the time. He felt trapped in a role he didn’t want to play. And because of Morality talking to him that day, for the first time, he thought that maybe he didn’t have to be. Anxiety talked more about how the thought was quickly dismissed as unrealistic but King found that it was hard to focus. The colors revealed a painting of a side being offered a hand by Morality. He didn’t even notice the shadows this time. It was like he was trapped in his own memories. Then suddenly, he was back in the present and heard something beside him. A wailing child and someone gasping for air like they’d ran a marathon at full speed. He looked down and found Anxiety curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth with a crying Morality sitting next to him clutching onto his arm. Before he could wonder what had happened he could feel the others approaching at high speed. He stepped back, not wanting to be found too close to the distressed side. He could not allow them to think for even a moment, that he felt a second of worry for the minister. He didn’t, but he didn’t need the implications of such a show of weakness to bring his strength into question. “Patton! Virgil!” Deceit called out, causing Morality to calm down and just let out a few more sniffles. King set up a disinterested mask and turned to the approaching sides. “Oh good, deal with this. They bore me,” he drawled calmly as he stepped aside. He was barely acknowledged which he normally would take offense in, but he’d let it slide until he knew what had happened just now. And if it had anything to do with that terrible feeling that had struck him when he saw Anxiety’s drawing. Logic kneeled next to Anxiety and Deceit spoke with Logic’s voice. “Virgil, can you hear us?” The boy nodded. “May we touch you?” Another nod and Logic placed his hands on the side’s shoulders. “Breath Virgil, in for 4, hold for 7 out for 8, you can do it.” One more nod and the side started to follow the rhythm that was tapped on his shoulders, stuttering trough the 4th count of holding his breath. “That’s alright, try again.” King observed as the two patiently helped Anxiety to breathe normally again. Somewhere along the line the troubled side started to whisper ‘sorry,’ and ‘so stupid’. “You are not stupid, your feelings are valid and we are here to help you with them. We shouldn’t have left you on your own. Especially not with him around,” Deceit growled, now in his own voice, before turning to King. “I don’t care what you do to me, but leave Virgil out of this! He has nothing to do with this.” Before king could retort. Claim the responsibility and remind Deceit that he’ll play with his minister however he likes, the boy spoke up himself. “Not his fault. Just, random attack,” he muttered. Deceit and King looked down and found Anxiety holding onto Logic with Morality trying his best to stand on wobbly legs while holding onto the purple sash adorning the minster uniform. Logic and Morality were staring at him accusatory, but Anxiety was pleading with Deceit. “You don’t have to defend him Virgil. We know what he’s like… And we’ll do a better job at protecting you now. I swear. Let us look out for you for once, please,” Deceit pleaded. So interesting. For all Anxiety’s fears of being abandoned and betrayed, the others seemed to fear for his safety before their own. Had they changed? Or had Anxiety not yet given them sufficient reason to be muzzled? Or was it his drastic decision of muzzling himself that had made them cautious of messing with his part of their duties? “I’m not. Jan look at me. You’d know if I was lying. He was just listening to me. He didn’t do anything bad. I promise.” Deceit frowned confused. “He didn’t do this to harm you? To cause you to create…” Finally Deceit really looked at what King and Anxiety had been working on and the statue Anxiety had done all by himself. “Virgil what…” “I don’t know, I was listening to music and all this just sort of happened. His majesty was helping me finish some drawings,” he explained, confusing King. Was he… what’s the term? Covering for him? Then Anxiety got up, picking up Morality and looking at Logic who followed his movements, hands hovering around him. As if he were afraid that the younger side would fall apart at any moment. “Please, just go back alright, I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping but you should focus on making sure Thomas is alright,” Anxiety explained bravely, not quite looking at the others. Had recalling all his doubts and fears made him suspicious of the others? This could benefit King greatly. “Run along now. And take Morality. I have matters to discuss with my minister. In private,” King informed Logic and Deceit. Anxiety looked from King back to his tutor and confidant and offered him Morality. Logic shook his head with wide eyes. “Logan, it’s alright. You look after Pat for a minute. I’ll be back soon. Just… Please trust me?” Logic hesitated, sighed in defeat and took the child. He moved to leave, but paused. He turned and laid a hand on Anxiety’s shoulder, a moment passed while the two held each other’s gaze. Anxiety nodded and patted Logic’s hand. “I will be safe. When am I ever not?” Something that would have been a chuckle rippled through Logic’s chest as he stepped away and started walking back to the commons, glancing back every ten steps or so. “Virgil… I…” Deceit started, unable to finish the thought. “I know. I’ll be okay.” And with that final assurance and a distrustful look towards King the last of the traitors left. “Why?” King wondered. It seemed obvious to him that whatever Anxiety just went through was actually meant for him. And not only had he taken the hit, he had covered for him as well. “I’m anxiety, taking on the insecurities and fears of the others is part of my job. I don’t take it all, just the really bad bits when I can take it. And… it took me forever to open up to the others about my own attacks. It wasn’t my place to share about yours. It’s nothing personal. Just me being professional I guess,” he shrugged casually. King allowed himself a small smirk and once again reached out to pat Anxiety’s hair. Once more the boy’s first instinct was to flinch, but he still let him do as he pleased. “Well done my boy. You have potential,” he told him before returning his attention to another drawing, leaving the one of Morality frameless. Later he might tell the little one a bit more about the betrayal. But first. He needed to get to know him better. “Now how about this one.”Being petted like a dog was degrading, humiliating. Trying to not just be civil towards him but formal and respectful was torture. But it was better than what he feared would happen every time the King moved his hand towards him. Virgil didn’t like being changed against his will and this king would do as he pleased with him. Which is why he had to keep him happy and away from the others. He ignored the urge to smile every time he received the king’s praise. He is not going to develop Stockholm Syndrome just because off a few half-baked complements. This guy is still a threat to Thomas… Even if the others, maybe made a mistake in the past and have a hard time owning up to that right now. Fact remained that Virgil’s job was to keep everyone safe. That meant making them not want to decapitate the king over an anxiety attack he hadn’t triggered on purpose. Still… What had triggered the attack?

#Rondoel #king au #sanders sides #Virgil Sanders #king creativity #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Janus Sanders

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cassiabaggins · 4 years ago

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Athelas

A/N: lets get this Kiliel week started! All these stories are canon with my Extra Burglar timeline and occur following the Battle of Five Armies. I hope you enjoy, and please like, reblog, and leave a comment if you do! Also check out my Masterlist or AO3 for the rest of my works!beating! Also a special thanks to my betas, @anjhope1 and @deathlikessodaandpizza

Warnings: mention of major character death

Word count: 3552

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Taglist: @anjhope1 @deathlikessodaandpizza @lonikje @myrin1234 @wettomatodude @lothloriien @annkdarar @artsywaterlily @hmmm-what-am-i-doing @drowingintheempty @kilielweek @estethell

Summary: Kili is grievously wounded in the Battle of the Five Armies and Tauriel is the only person who can keep him alive, but her presence is less than welcomed by many of the dwarves

To his credit, Kili is not the most difficult patient Tauriel has ever had. Granted, he does little but sleep for the first few weeks, and his care is only left to her because the dwarven healers have long since realized that they have no idea how to keep him alive, and the elven ones are too preoccupied with their own kind.

Sleep though he may, it is not a consistent one, and Kili fades to almost wakefulness several times, enough so she can feed him thin broth, mixed with crushed athelas, to replenish his strength and numb the pain. At first, she isn't positive even athelas will help him, but he seems to rest easier when he takes it, even if it is only a few sips. She battles against the possibility of infection and his own mortality and wishes, not for the first time, she had pursued healing with more vigor. She has enough knowledge to bind a wound in battle and keep a comrade alive until the real healers arrive, but knows next to nothing about nursing a dwarf back from the brink of death, so in what little free time she has, she lurks near the healer’s tents, learning what she can to help him. A far cry from her younger self, who would have chafed at the idea of sitting still and listening, but now, she has a reason to.

As Tauriel continues to tend to the wounded dwarf, she notices something quite strange: Kili gets few visitors. Tauriel wonders if that is because he has few friends, or if it is because his brother, the king, has forbidden it. She suspects the latter. The reason for this belief is because just days after the battle, while Kili is still hovering between life and death, a healer from the Iron Hills comes to check on him. She takes one look at Kili's wound and her eyes widen. Then she glances suspiciously at Tauriel and whispers something to Fili, that she knows she isn't supposed to catch.

"He should be dead," the healer says. "Your Majesty, your brother should not be alive. I am sorry, but I fear this is not him but an elvish trick, seeking to gain your trust and usurp your throne." Fili does not like that, and the dwarf is sent from the tent with a voice trembling with anger.

The brother in question sits with Kili whenever he can spare a moment, holding his hand or braiding his hair and talking to him, but there are not many moments to be had. The halflings visit more often, but they must begin their long journey home before the winter becomes too harsh. So, usually, it is just Tauriel sitting with Kili for such a long amount of time, that her younger self would be both annoyed and impressed with her commitment to the dwarf. However, there is only so much sitting still she can stand and restlessness has her pacing and singing and itching for activity. But she cannot leave him. She will not. He needs her.

Finally, on the seventeenth day, Kili awakens enough to speak. As he slowly fades into consciousness, he realizes he has been awoken by an argument between Fili, his tone heavy with annoyance and anger, and another voice, one he doesn’t know.

“...an elf taking care of the prince of Erebor?” The stranger is saying. “It’s unheard of!”

“She saved his life!” Fili snaps back. “As far as I am concerned, that means she can stay as long as needed!”

“Your subjects are already questioning your ability to rule, lad, don’t give them any more reason to doubt you.”

Kili can hear his brother’s voice shaking with anger. “I am fine with whatever they think of me, if it is to ensure my brother’s full recovery. And it is Your Majesty to you, not lad.”

Kili can’t help the soft laugh that escapes him. Fili sounds like Thorin when he does that, all pomp and pride. The argument stops and he senses someone moving close to him.

“Kili?” Fili asks, placing his hand on his forehead. It is warm and comforting. “How are you feeling?”

“I’d feel better if you all quieted down and let me sleep,” Kili mumbles.

“Aye,” his older brother says, stroking his bangs off his forehead. “I’ll take this outside. You get some sleep.”

“Where’s Tauriel?” Kili finds himself asking. He’s a little afraid he just dreamed her presence, that she has already left and returned home.

“I am here,” her soft voice murmurs, and his heart leaps.

Kili cracks his eyes open to see her and his brother leaning over him, both of their foreheads drawn with concern. "You're missing an eye," Kili finds himself saying to his brother, who gives him a dry look.

"I am aware."

Kili loses interest in Fili's bandaged face and looks over at Tauriel, a much lovelier sight. He smiles.

“Amrâlimê,” he mumbles, drinking in the sight of her. Fili’s one visible eyebrow shoots up in surprise, so high Kili wants to laugh again, but that hurts too much. Tauriel’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Kili, I don’t know what that means,” she whispers.

“Yes, you do,” he replies, sliding his eyes shut again. He reaches out with the hand nearest to her, searching for her cool skin.

“Kili,” Fili hisses, “you can’t just--”

Of course he’d protest. Kili twists up his face, suspecting his brother is more concerned with the use of Khuzdul around non-dwarrow than the fact he just confessed his love for an elf in front of two witnesses. “You’re making my head pound, nadad,” he says pettily, knowing that will shut Fili down, and it does. He subsides with some minor grumbling under his breath about Kili defeating the whole point of a secret language with a display like that.

“Get some more rest, Kili,” he says, “When you feel a bit better, we can bring you into the Mountain. I have a room set up for you already.”

“Can Tauriel come?” Kili asks, suddenly terrified his brother will tell her to leave. He reaches out for her again, making a slight grabbing motion with his fingers, but she does not weave her fingers with his like she had before. Fili sighs.

“Yes, she will come, too. She’s the one keeping you alive, after all.”

“Good.”

The stranger, whoever they are, starts to protest, but Fili says, “enough. Khar, we will finish this outside. Come with me.”

Khar. The name sounds familiar. Kili believes Thorin had a few meetings with a Lord Khar back in Ered Luin, and he had a vague memory of a dwarf with a red beard and brown eyes. Kili hadn’t liked him then, and he certainly doesn’t like him now. He reaches again for Tauriel’s hand. She’s so quiet, he’s suddenly afraid she’s disappeared. The third time turns out to be the charm, and perhaps the others have left, because her cool, slim hand suddenly slips into his.

Kili smiles. “Tauriel,” he breathes.

“Kili,” she replies, “your brother is right. Try to sleep. It will help you heal.”

“Can you sing to me?”

She is silent for a while. He opens one eye to peek at her, a little worried that asking for a lullaby is a bit more intimate in her culture. However, when their eyes meet, she is looking at him with surprise. He frowns a little, and then she lets out a breath, closing her eyes, a smile playing around her lips. “Yes, I will sing to you.”

And she does.

On the twenty seventh day, Tauriel deems him well enough to be moved into Erebor. They lay him on a pallet in a cart drawn by rams, and despite all the cautions taken, it turns out to be one of the most excruciating experiences Kili has ever undergone. His whole body is pure fire, radiating out from his wound, and every jolt of the cart is a lightning strike of pain lancing through him. He bites back the groans he wants to let out, and squeezes tight to Tauriel’s hand. At least three times the pain becomes too unbearable, and he faints, but each time when he comes to, her hand is still holding his.

The final time he passes out must be for quite a while, because when he loses consciousness, they are just approaching the mountain, and when he wakes, he is tucked up in a nice, warm, comfortable dwarven bed, leagues better than the thin cot he had been lying on in the healing tents on the battlefield. It's warmer, too, a fire crackling merrily in the hearth at the foot of his bed, and blissfully free of that post war scent of blood and mud and rotting corpses. Kili rather thought it had gone away in those last few days, but apparently he had just gotten used to it, because the smells of this room— herbs and stone and smoke and dust— are like the finest perfumes in all of Middle Earth, even with the faint lingering trace of dragon hanging about the place. He takes a deep breath in through the nose. Aye. Besides the dragon, it smells dwarven. It smells like home. But even the homey smells can’t drive away the pain encompassing his body, and he lets the deep breath out in a rush accompanied by a pained groan.

He doesn’t really notice he’s alone until a door to his left swings open and Tauriel steps through. She looks fresh faced and clean, her hair braided back, a few strands hanging free, and she’s changed clothes as well, to a loose blue tunic that looks suspiciously dwarven, and brown trousers. Kili decides he likes trousers on a lass... and the shape of her legs. She’s carrying a tray with a teapot and mug, and smiles when she sees that he is awake.

“Good evening,” she says, setting the tray on the bedside table. “You slept for a whole day.” She picks up the teapot and pours some of the contents into the mug. “How are you feeling? In pain?”

He manages a weak nod, but that hurts, too.

"I thought so. Here. Drink this," she says. Kili peers suspiciously at the steaming cup she holds toward him. He thinks it may be medicine, but unlike the dwarven tonics he's used to, it doesn't smell awful. It smells like a combination of mint, earth, and something floral, but he doesn't know the scent, so he is suspicious. He hurts too much to move or speak, but the doubtful look he shoots her is enough. She sits down on his bedside, frowning. "It is merely an infusion of athelas, Kili. It will dull your pain. If I wanted to poison you I would have done it long ago."

That wasn't what he was worried about, but he doesn't have the energy to point that out. He sighs and opens his mouth a bit, and she helps him drink. It is hot, but not burning, and warms him right down to his toes. It would even taste like a normal tea, if not for the faint bitter aftertaste. Slowly, the radiating pain from his chest begins to dull and his muscles relax, and he thinks he might be able to sleep. Actually sleep, not pass out.

"Thank you," Tauriel says, setting the mug aside. "I am going to give you a sponge bath and change your bandages, and then you can try to rest, unless you would like to try eating. How does that sound?"

"You sure you don' jus' wanna see me naked?" He finds himself mumbling with a smirk. She scoffs.

"You are hardly an appealing picture at the moment, laying here, barely alive, half drunk from pain."

Kili chuckles, but it turns into a hiss as his movement jars his wound and pain shoots through his body. "Everything hurts," he moans.

Tauriel tenderly touches his cheek in comfort. "I know. Give the athelas a moment to work."

He nods weakly and she stands up.

"Where are you—"

"I am merely fetching soap, hot water, and fresh bandages," she replies soothingly before leaving the room.

Before long she returns with a large bowl of steaming water, several rags, soap, and some warm fluffy towels. Slowly, she places the objects down next to him and it dawns on him as she soaks the soft towels in the warm water that she was about to wash him. Suddenly, Kili squirms and shies away from her.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” he mumbles.

“About what?” She asks without looking up from her task, absently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“About you seeing me naked,” he whispers, looking anywhere but at her.

Tauriel stops and stares at him for a while and he can feel his cheeks tingling with a blush. “I have seen you naked before,” she says blithely.

Kili’s head shoots up in dismay. “What?! When?!”

She sighs. “Who do you think has been bathing you and changing your bandages for the past month?”

Now it is his turn to stare at her. He hadn’t thought of that. Tauriel touches his shoulder sympathetically.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to wash between the waist and the knees.”

In the end, that is what they settle on. While she bathes him, she is careful and gentle, but thorough. Just as quick as it begins she is taking away the bathing materials and returning with fresh bandages and a small pot of something.

“I have to change your bandages,” she says apologetically. “This will be… painful.”

“What’s in the jar?” he asks.

"An ointment that will prevent infection and reduce your pain. It's mostly echinacea, chamomile, and athelas, mixed with a lard base."

"You sure like that athelas stuff. What is it, anyway?"

"Some call it kingsfoil," she says, opening the container and checking the contents. She tilts it so he can see a greenish brown paste inside. "See? I'll spread this over your wound. It shall help it heal, with the right incantations."

"Isn't kingsfoil a weed? I've been told that it's a weed."

"It is often seen as a weed, but truly it is a healing herb, though the knowledge of how to use it has been mostly lost to mortals. I've used it on you before, when you were shot by the orcish arrow."

"Oh. I don't remember that."

"I don't find that surprising, you were quite delirious."

Kili feels cold air on his chest and suddenly realizes that Tauriel has been carefully untying his bandages. He looks down and is quite shocked at the sight of his wound. This is the first time he's seen it, an ugly, puckered gash stitched closed with thick black thread.

"Well," he says shakily, "that will leave a scar."

Tauriel doesn't laugh at his joke, too preoccupied with assessing the wound. "Soon I'll be able to take these stitches out, but not yet." She looks up at him. "I am going to clean it now. Are you ready?"

He gives her a lopsided smile. "Aye. I'm a grown dwarf, I won't cry."

In the end, a few silent tears do manage to squeeze themselves out of his eyes. After her treatment, she lays him back and feeds him medicine that not only numbs the pain but also causes him some drowsiness and he falls asleep once more until she wakes him to feed him. From there, this same routine continues, with a few minor changes with Company members visiting him when they can, but for the most part, it is just him and Tauriel.

As more members of the Company come by, Tauriel better acquaints herself with them. However, as kind as they are to her, she is no fool. She knows the distrust (and in some cases, hatred) the other Dwarves of the mountain have toward her. They only keep her around due to Kili’s steadily improving condition. But before long, he will not need her anymore. He will be at a point in his recovery where the dwarven healers will be able to manage just fine and the dwarves will tolerate her no longer. She must leave before it all comes to a head and something terrible happens.

She begins to prepare travelling supplies: food, drink, and clothing, a map as well, as she makes her plans. Plans she tells no one of; she intends to slip away, unnoticed, into the night. They will not follow her and she knows she will not be missed. They just want her out of the mountain. She plans her route carefully; choosing to slip out in between the changing of the guard and taking a discrete route south. She calculates how many days she can ration out her lembas on foot versus on horseback or by boat, how long she can walk without sleep, how long her tinderbox can last, everything is carefully planned. However, what she did not plan for, is Kili.

On the winter night that she executes her plan, she doesn't notice that Kill awakens as she creeps about the room, watching shrewdly as she gathers her belongings and crosses the room to her exit. But before she has the chance to even reach for the doorknob, he breaks his silence.

"You're leaving," he whispers accusingly.

Tauriel closes her eyes and sighs. “Kili,” she says softly, not looking at him.

“I’m not stupid, you know,” he says, “I’ve snuck out enough times in my life to recognize when someone is doing just that.” Tauriel's shoulders slump. She opens her eyes and looks up at the ceiling, studying the gold flecked green stone, but she still does not turn and look at him.

“Please don’t be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry! ” he huffs, clearly angry. Finally, she turns and raises an eyebrow at him, meeting his glare. "You’re just going to leave me, without so much as a goodbye?!” he continues, his eyes blazing with passion.

“Kili, surely you know of the strife my presence is causing,” she replies, “I know you aren’t blind to what is going on in the Mountain.”

“Of course I know!” He explodes, punching the mattress beside his thigh, “I'm not stupid! But you can’t just go!” Tauriel rather gets the impression that he’s hiding his sadness and betrayal behind anger, and if she didn’t know better, she'd think he was begging. But that’s ridiculous. Dwarves are proud. They do not beg. Silently, Tauriel moves away from the door and toward the bed, as graceful as water, and looks down at him.

“And why is that?”

“Because then they win!” He shouts, gesturing wildly outward, as if to indicate the entire mountain and every dwarf within it. Immediately afterward, he seems to feel guilty for raising his voice, and drops his arms, looking down and away and picking at his blankets. Tauriel takes the opportunity to sit down on the bed beside him, contemplating his words.

“Kili,” she says finally, after what seems like an age, “I wish it was that simple.”

“It can be,” he murmurs, turning back to look at her, his hand catching hers where it rests on the blanket. “Tauriel, amrâlimê...”

She looks down at their joined hands and something alien wells up within her. Is it love? Is it fear? She doesn’t know.

“Stay with me,” he says, gripping her fingers. “Please.”

She looks up at him. He’s giving her the same pleading look he gave her on the lakeshore, conveying all his emotions in his gaze: love and determination and desperation...

“I can’t,” she whispers.

His face crumples and he moves his hand off hers with a heavy sigh. “I know,” he replies. Because he does. Despite how desperately he wants it, he knows that at this point in time, what they have, or at least what they want to have, is impossible. He looks away so he doesn’t have to see her leave. The mattress shifts as she stands, and he listens to her footsteps begin to move away from him. Then, they pause.

“I have something of yours,” she says. He looks up to see her reaching into her bodice. He frowns, confused, until she draws out her hand and holds it open to him. His runestone rests on her palm. She kept it? She still has it? “This belongs to you.”

“No,” he replies, staring listlessly at the stone. “It’s yours. It was a gift.”

She stands in silence for a moment, then her fingers close over it and she returns it back to where she had it, smoothing her shirt down over it. “Thank you.” She says after a while. He nods, looking down again.

She moves again to leave, he hears rustling as she shoulders her pack, and the door creaks open.

“Where will you go?” he calls after her. She turns to look at him, framed by the door.

“I’ve always wanted to see the sea,” she replies.

He nods. “Ah.”

She gives him a smile, but he doesn’t have the strength to return it, and her face falls. “Perhaps I will see you again someday,” she tells him, and is gone before he can reply.

#kilielweek #kilielweek2021 #kiliel #kili #tauriel #my writing #kiliel fanfiction #lotr #the hobbit #hobbit fanfiction #hobbit fanfic #kiliel fanfic #the hobbit fanfic #fili #bilbo baggins #post botfa

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aspenflower17 · 4 years ago

Text

Finding You (Part 18 of ??)

Hey everyone! I 'm probably going to get the rest of this chapter out... Friday? My brain just won’t focus today and I wanted to get something out today :)

If you are new here and want to read from the beginning, here is the link for Part One. I also have links to all the parts on my Masterlist, which is pinned to the top of my page :)

Taggles: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman (If you want to be added to the tags list, please just ask to be added below or you can always DM me :) )

Satan/F!Mc

Word Count: 3,172

TW: angst

“I have just done the impossible,” Mc announced, feeling very satisfied.

“Huh?” Satan asked, blinking as he put his book down.

Mc sighed, and flopped on him dramatically, “I just went to petition for our son to stay from the evil overlord, and you couldn’t even greet me for my victorious return?”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll never guess what just happened in… Wait… He agreed to it?!”

Mc beamed up at him, holding a paper, “He just asks that you sign this to lay some ground rules down.”

“I knew he’d do something like this,” Satan huffed, folding his arms, “It’s like he doesn’t trust me.”

“Well, not to play devil’s advocate,” Mc laughed a bit at the expression, “But you did fill the house with cats last time you were allowed to have one. I can understand his… reservations on the subject.”

Satan frowned, looking away from her, “So, even you agree with him?”

“Well, obviously not about everything. Otherwise I wouldn’t be trying to make him let us keep Leo. I can sympathize with not wanting your house overrun with animals. Especially when you’ve already got so many trouble makers already in the house… Am I wrong?” she asked at his frown.

Satan sighed, “I guess not.”

“Just think of it this way. If you can prove to Lucifer you can be responsible and take care of Leo, you might be allowed to keep another cat down the road.”

“You need to stop making such good points Mc,” Satan huffed a laugh, his irritation gone.

“Hmmm… I think I need to continue to make great points actually. Okay, while you look over the contract to make sure Lucifer doesn’t have something up his sleeve, I’m going to go tell Leo the good news.”

“He was upstairs last time I checked,” Satan called over his shoulder as Mc went off in search of the cat. She took the stairs two at a time, having gotten used to climbing them since Leo came into their life. Coming to the top, her eyes scanned the area for him, “Leo! Leo, where are you?”

A small meow announced the presence of said cat, coming out of nowhere, as usual. He started twining between Mc’s legs, looking up every once in a while to meow at her. Once she stopped, Mc laughed, picking him up. He adjusted his paws until he was hugging her as usual, purring the whole time, “Oh baby boy, did you miss me? I know I missed you. But, you’ll never guess! Lucifer said you could stay. Daddy’s looking over the rules right now to make sure they’re acceptable, but after that you’ll be able to stay here! No more roaming the streets in search of your next meal, though you’ll be allowed out obviously. You just have to promise you’ll come back,” Mc started scratching between his shoulder blades, eliciting an even louder purr, “Oh, it’s been awhile since I had a cat. I forgot how soothing purring is,” then whispering conspiratorially, “You’ll be so good for Satan. Speaking of which, let's go downstairs and see him.”

Satan was frowning slightly at the document, his reading glasses having materialized out of nowhere. Mc was sure he didn’t actually need them, seeing as how he was a near immortal being, and suspected he only used them as a tool for intense studying, but she was never going to complain. He looked so good with them on. She shifted Leo to one arm, and took out her phone to snap a photo of Satan. She loved that they had a relationship where they could just snap photos of each other without the other thinking it was weird.

Satan looked up at the camera sound, and reached for his polaroid, “Say cheese.”

Mc laughed, posing with Leo. The photo soon emerged, and Satan smiled as he watched the photo start emerging, “Another one for the drawer.”

“So, what’s the verdict?” Mc asked, coming closer to stand next to Satan. Leo wiggled a bit, so she put him in Satan’s lap, where he circled a couple times before curling into a ball.

“It seems… reasonable enough at first glance. I’ll have to go over it in more detail later, but I think you did it.”

Mc grinned and threw her arms over the back of Satan’s chair, giving him a hug from behind, “I’m so glad. Not only does Leo get a home, now you have someone to keep you company while I’m back at home.”

Satan’s hands grabbed her arms, pulling them even tighter to himself, “Do you really have to go?”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she smiled, kissing the top of his head, “I could never stay away from you for too long. Plus, I need to make sure to keep Diavolo happy. Otherwise I won’t be able to return at all.”

“I should petition him to let me go with you.”

“You have a job to do down here, Darling. Plus, I don’t want to see what would happen if you got stuck in rush hour traffic. I think you might be able to come visit me though.”

Satan sighed, kissing Mc’s hand, “Only if Lucifer allowed it.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to convince him,” Mc smiled, moving down to kiss Satan’s cheek, his soft hair tickling her nose.

He turned his head, eyes soft, a little smile gracing his lips, “Just don’t stay away for too long.”

“I promise,” Mc smiled, looking straight into the eyes.

Mc awoke a bit abruptly, though it wasn’t unpleasant. That was until a wave of loneliness suddenly crashed down, causing her eyes to open, though they were reluctant. The soft light in the room allowed her eyes to adjust rather quickly, revealing the demon she’d been dreaming about, “Mnh, Satan?” He was standing closer to her than she would’ve expected. She extended her arm, to grab at his hand, “Is that you?”

“It is,” he answered softly, accepting her hand in his. The loneliness instantly disappeared, “Did you have a bad dream?”

Mc relaxed instantly, “Mmmm… No. It was a really nice dream actually.”

“I’m sorry you had to wake up then.”

“Mmmm, is okay. It’s nice to wake up and have you here,” she answered truthfully, sleep turning her filter off.

Satan’s eyes went wide, and his grip on her hand tightened and then went rigid, “Really?”

“Mmmhmm,” she answered, closing her eyes.

“Hey. You probably shouldn’t fall asleep again. It’s getting kind of late and you still need to get back to the castle.”

“I can’t just stay here?” Mc asked, yawning loudly, “I don’t want to go back. I like it here.”

”I’m afraid not. I don’t think Luke or Michael would like that very much.”

“... I guess you’re right,” Mc sighed, forcing herself to sit up. The blanket on her body fell down, and she frowned at it, her sleep addled brain trying to think, “Did I grab a blanket?”

“Oh, that was me. I know my room can get pretty chilly so I wanted to make sure you weren’t too cold.”

Mc blinked at the kindness, her brain clearing, “Oh my… I fell asleep. I’m so sorry! I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I promise it’s not because it was boring or anything. It was really lovely actually. I hope-”

“Hey, hey. Please don’t worry yourself Mc. I feel honored you trust me enough to fall asleep in my presence,” he smiled kindly.

Mc felt her cheeks grow warm, and looked down, “Still. It’s rude to fall asleep when spending time with someone.”

Satan chuckled and squoze her hand, “You can fall asleep around me if you’d like. You really don’t have to worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. If I’d had a problem with it I would have woken you up earlier.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right. Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course Mc,” Satan smiled again, and Mc felt her heart jolt a bit, “We should probably get you back to the castle soon.”

“R-Right.”

Mc sat at her desk, writing in the notebook usually reserved for her art ideas. She’d need to get a new one soon, but this would have to do for now. Now that she’d had time to think everything through, she was starting to piece something together. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had the feeling it would lead to what she’d been searching for this whole time.

Let’s see, there’s all these dreams… Though, should they even be called that? Are they prophecies? It’s not deja vu, as the situations don’t feel like they’re repeating. Just a sense of familiarity. I might even be able to write it all off as a dream if it weren’t for the fact that Satan’s room was the same as that other dream I’d had, and I’d never been there before. There’s obviously something going on and I need to figure out what it is. Mc looked down at the sheet in front of her realizing she’d been drawing the whole time she’d been thinking. She was a bit flustered when she saw it was Satan when he’d been holding her hand. She shut her notebook, that strange feeling when Satan had smiled at her earlier flitting around in her chest. She had written off the feeling as residual embarrassment combined with relief that he wasn’t upset. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts, “Mc. Are you in there?”

“Just a moment Diavolo,” Mc called out, putting her notebook under her pillow. She felt the strong need to hide what she was doing, though she couldn’t quite figure out why.

She opened the door to his wide smiling face, “I was wondering if you would like to join me in a game of chess?”

“Oh. Sure, if you want. I’m not very good at it though.”

“That’s alright. After all, how is someone supposed to get better at something if they don’t practice?”

“Very true. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in playing against someone who’s not at your level.”

“Who’s to say I’m above your level?”

“Well, generally when people own a chess set they’re above my level,” Mc smirked.

“Fair enough,” Diavolo laughed, gesturing for Mc to follow him.

“So, what’s on your mind?”

“That, not only are you a gracious winner, but that you’re even more skilled at this game than I first thought. It takes skill to bring your playing down to novice level without making “mistakes”.”

Diavolo chuckled, moving another piece, “I wouldn’t say you’re a novice. You’re doing quite well.”

“I’d have to disagree with you there, but thank you anyway.”

“If I’m as skilled as you say, wouldn’t I be better qualified to assess your skill level than yourself?”

“I suppose,” Mc hummed, wondering what Diavolo was getting at.

“Satan is pretty talented when it comes to chess as well.”

Mc paused in moving her piece, “Is that so?”

“Yes. He’s probably the most tenacious player I’ve ever met. Though he’s never beat me, he’s gotten very close before.”

“Ah.”

“That attitude is what made him who he is. His desire to grow and learn is one of his defining characteristics. Though it’s probably not a fair comparison, he has grown and continues to grow the most out of all his brothers.”

“Why would you say it’s not fair?”

“Because they already had defined personalities when they Fell. Certain characteristics were obviously enhanced or repressed turning from angels to demons, but they’re essentially the same beings.

“Satan is a different story. Though he came from Lucifer and has memories of the Celestial Realm, all he really was in the beginning was wrath, the most literal embodiment of his sin I could imagine. I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve never met another being like him. He is truly unique. I watched all the brothers adjust to their sin, figuring out how they would represent their sin. They’ve all struggled in their own way, but Satan’s struggle is of a different kind. He’s had to learn how to go against everything he was to become something more.

Which brings me back to my point: It’s probably not fair to compare his growth to his brothers, but he continues to grow and learn from his mistakes, while the others seem to have… stagnated a bit.”

Mc nodded as she surveyed the gameboard, though her thoughts were more on their conversation. She had so many questions about Satan, many ones she didn’t feel she could ask him...

“So, anything else on your mind?”

“Only if you’re offering answers.”

Diavolo looked Mc straight in the eyes, “Ask away.”

Mc blinked a couple times, “Umm… Of course I can’t think of anything really pressing now.”

“What’s the first question that comes to mind?”

“Well, I guess since we were talking about it, what was his last period of intense growth?”

Diavolo cocked his head, “Interesting question. Besides right now?... Though it’s not a happy memory, probably the grieving period after she died.”

“Do you mean the girl he wrote the song for? Mammon told me a little bit about it.”

“How much did he tell you?” Diavolo asked slowly, eyes searching hers.

“I would guess the basics? He said he’d loved a human, and after she passed away, he played the song one last time and then said he’d never play it again, but then he did at the dinner party. He also mentioned he hadn’t dated anyone before or since her.”

“I suppose those are the basics,” Diavolo sighed, moving another piece on the board.

“Can… Will… You tell me about her?” Mc asked, the question feeling more important than it had when Mammon had first mentioned it.

“Hmmm… I think my hands might be tied wen it comes to that question,” Mc felt an unexpected wave of disappointment wash through her at his answer, “But, I sense there’s more to that question than what you asked.”

“I… Maybe?” Mc answered, her reaction shocking her. Even so, she couldn’t dispel the feeling.

“What made you ask the question?”

“I… It seems important,” was the only thing Mc could think to answer with.

Interesting. Well, checkmate, and with that, it’s time for me to head to bed. Goodnight Mc.”

“Oh, you’re right. Goodnight,” Mc answered, though her thoughts were far from the game that sat in front of her.”

Mc sighed for what felt like the eightieth time that night. What could Diavolo have meant by all that? He was obviously hunting at something. The problem is, I’m not sure what it is. Though, why do I care about her? It seems more than me just being concerned for Satan’s well being. He’s obviously feeling better about the whole situation with her, seeing as how he played that song.

Mc replayed her memory of him playing the song in question, and found herself questioning that assessment. If he truly was feeling better, wouldn’t the longing in his voice have lessened? He had laid all his feelings bare, and the truth was, he wasn’t over her.

A stab of jealousy attacked her heart, making her blink a couple times. She went back to the memory in question, only to find the whole thing tinged in the sin. She retreated further into her head, far from the feeling. She sat up, grabbing the glass of water from her bedside table, hands shaking. As she tried to put it back down, her fingers loosened too much and she almost ended up spilling the rest of the water. Sighing the eighty-first time that night, she grabbed the book off the table, opening it and trying to drown out her feelings.

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Barbatos asked, stepping forward to refill Luke’s glass with whatever tea he’d decided on serving them.

“Everything tastes great. I’m just not hungry this morning,” Mc smiled weakly, before returning to pushing the food around her plate. Attempting to make the butler feel better, she took a bite of the pride cake he’d prepared. It had actually become a favorite of hers, much to the delight of Diavolo who couldn’t seem to get enough of it. Today however, it reminded her more of glue than anything else.

“Are you feeling alright Mc??” Michael asked, “You’ve seemed… off these past couple days.”

“I just haven’t been able to sleep lately,” Mc answered, “I’ve just hit a snag in my art.”

“Maybe you should take some time off today then.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I have the day free, and I’ve wanted to talk to you about something,” Michael tried again.

“Actually, I’m just going to head out to clear my head.”

Michael narrowed his eyes, “Well, I do need to talk to you sometime soon.”

“Sure,” Mc answered, relieved he wasn’t going to push the situation further.

Mc wandered aimlessly, willing the sounds of the Devildom to drown out her thoughts, but she seemed to have opened some sort of floodgate in her thoughts. Angels were known for their extreme restraint when it comes to their own feelings. During the process of becoming an angel, there was a sort of damper that was put on their feelings. Supposedly it could be turned on or off at will like a switch. Many angels went their whole existence without turning the switch off. Mc had seen Simeon when his had been off, usually when he was writing, so she knew it existed. She also had some control over her switch, but she had a feeling hers didn’t work quite as well as other angels. She’d theorized that’s why she could create art as readily as she did, and why it seemed humans related more to her art than her fellow angels. When she was younger, she figured it would develop more once she got older. It hadn’t however. She might have had an easier time covering up how she actually felt, but the control wasn’t there.

Now however, it seemed like she had no control over it, relying on outside influences to help her from feeling like she was losing her mind. Among her newfound jealousy at center stage, she could feel her anger at Michael hiding in the eves of her mind. There was also a confusion that seemed to be seeping into everything else she did and was, lighting the whole scene. She had no idea what had changed, but she wished it would stop. She was getting a headache. No wonder humans sometimes went crazy.

“Mc? Is that you?” A familiar voice called out to her.

“Hey Mammon. What are you doing here?”

“Jus’ got outta RAD for the day. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Oh, I’m… trying to clear my head.”

“So wha’s botherin’ ya?”

“What?”

“You’re havin’ a hard time right? I can see it all written all over your face,” Mammon smiled kindly, “Come get some ice cream with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hehe ^_^

Part Eighteen and a Half

#OBEY ME #obey me satan #obey me mc #obey me diavolo #obey me mammon #obey me fic #obey me f!mc #obey me! swd #obey me swd #finding you #aspenflower17 #obey me long fic

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aurora-australis-tumbles · 5 years ago

Note

For your October ask! 1 + 13 (separate or together)

You got it! Prompts are “ruffled hair” and “black cat”.

-------

Phryne marched up the path, a woman on a mission. Really, if Jack was going to drag his feet getting them a warrant, she was going to be forced to take matters into her own lock-picks and perhaps it would do him good to be reminded of that fact.

And, she thought as she reached the front door, if she happened to finally get a glimpse inside his house at the same time, well, that was just the cherry on top of the investigative sundae.

She knocked once, twice, no answer, which was strange because his motorcar was clearly parked out front.

She was just about to knock again when she heard a small noise behind her. She turned, not sure what to expect, but didn’t see anything. Then she heard it again. Was that... meowing?

Phryne looked down and sure enough there was the source of the sound — a small, black cat.

“Hello,” she greeted, because manners. “Who do we have here?”

The cat backed up a step, clearly a little skittish, so Phryne took a seat on the top step of the porch and held out a hand in greeting. The cat sniffed at her for a moment before coming close enough for Phryne to gently pet it.

“Aren’t you a sweet girl,” Phryne murmured, continuing to stroke the tiny animal, who nuzzled in closer. The two of them stayed that way for a few minutes and it was calming, for both of them, which was why, Phryne reasoned, she didn’t immediately hear Jack’s approach.

“Dinah!” he exclaimed, half irritation, half worry. “There you are.”

Jack huffed, moving closer with perhaps more worry than irritation after all, given that he only seemed to register Phryne’s presence after checking that the cat was alright.

“Oh, Miss Fisher! What are you...”

He didn’t finish his question, though, probably because of the dumbfounded look on his partner’s face. But she couldn’t help it.

He was... flustered, in a way she’d never seen before. Hair disheveled, tie and suit coat gone, sleeves rolled up. And when he went to sit next to her on the step she saw he was missing socks as well, his feet just sitting bare in the shoes as though he’d thrown them on in a hurry.

In a word, he looked delicious.

But, to Phryne’s credit, she recovered quickly.

“Hello, Jack! Who’s your friend?”

“This is Dinah,” he explained, surreptitiously examining the cat, even as she stayed curled into Phryne. “A house cat who decided this evening that she wasn’t.”

“Oh, was there a jailbreak?” Phryne asked with a grin.

“Mmmm,” Jack agreed. “I opened the door to get the evening edition and she scurried past me faster than you can say — well you know.” He shrugged and leaned back against the step. “I’ve been out looking for her for almost half an hour.”

“Well she must have gotten hungry. Like father, like feline, hmmm?”

Jack didn’t look amused at the joke so Phryne took it upon herself to look amused enough for both of them, because partnership. “Though I must say, Jack, I’m quite pleased. A black cat? Very brave of you to flaunt superstition like that.”

“Well they’re only considered unlucky in some places, Miss Fisher. Scottish lore, for example, holds that a black cat's arrival at a new home signifies prosperity.”

“And is that what happened to you?” she asked, as Dinah rubbed her cheek on Phryne’s leg.

“Actually, yes,” he chuckled. “I had only been here a few weeks when she sort of… showed up. Turned my life upside down for a bit, but here we are.”

“And that famous Robinson heart just couldn’t turn her away?” Phryne teased.

“More like that famous Robinson superstition couldn’t be forgotten; my mother would never have forgiven me for passing up such good fortune.”

Phryne rolled her lips to refrain from commenting further; Jack Robinson might talk a good game, but as he’d talked it he’d also scooted closer to the cat and was not scratching her behind the ear.

“Well maybe I should take her off your hands, Jack. It is, after all, believed that a lady who owns a black cat will have many suitors.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Somehow, Miss Fisher, I doubt you are suffering from a scarcity. Though she does appear to have taken quite a shine to you.”

“Mmmm, she has. And well restrained, Jack, not making any jokes about how they’re often seen as witches’ familiars.”

“I would never,” he denied, vehemently, but with a sly glint in his eye. “But while we’re on the subject, have you come to put a spell on me?”

“Well if you have to ask, Jack, I’ve clearly not cast it right.”

Jack chuckled again and the sound warmed her in a way she hadn’t expected. She turned to look at him and his expression as he smiled back was so unbearably fond and his hair was ruffled and he was sitting so close and his empty house was right there...

Phryne swayed towards him, wondering if maybe this was the time, finally, to change the tempo of their waltz and take the next step. And then Jack was swaying too and they were so impossibly close...

And then, because this cat was clearly the canine equivalent of Aunt P, Dinah meowed loudly and with purpose, breaking the mood and whatever enhancement it held.

Jack looked startled for a second, before jumping to his feat. “I think perhaps you were right about her being hungry. I better get her some dinner.”

Phryne nodded as Jack hurried over to his door and opened it with a key. “Traitor,” she whispered to the cat who simply gave her an unconcerned look before running into the house.

Phryne stood then too, smoothing down her skirt. “Well it seems you have plans, Inspector, so I suppose I will see you tomorrow. Good luck with the prisoner,” she teased before starting down the walk. She had gotten about halfway when Jack called out to stop her.

“Miss Fisher?”

“Yes, Jack?”

“Did you... you never told me what you needed.”

“Oh, I...,” Phryne stood there, momentarily unable to recall the initial reason for her visit. She shook her head at her foolishness, though, and got a hold of herself quickly, because Phryne Fisher. “Yes, I wanted to remind you to get a wriggle on with the Matthews warrant. Time and tide wait for no man, Inspector, and I am right there with them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Miss Fisher, though I doubt that will sway the judge.”

“His loss,” she trilled as she kept walking to her car, a little more swish in her step than was strictly necessary. She talked a good game too, but still, that was odd. Forgetting why she’d come over? That was not like her at all. Cats, she decided, were very distracting.

That… or maybe she wasn’t the only one who could cast a good spell.

Couldn’t say that she minded.

-------

October Prompts

#ask meme #prompt fill #mfmm fanfic #mfmm fanfic drabble #phrack #some of these have been short I swear

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daquanfromthetrap · 5 years ago

Text

Sebastian Michaelis x Reader Ch. 5

Sebastian stared at you, expecting an elaboration of the very vague answer you had just gave him. However, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction and left it at just that. An abomination. You thought to yourself, brushing passed a suspecting Sebastian. He huffed at your silence, seeming to accept the answer you had just given him. For now. There’s no reason he should know father’s and mine’s secrets. How can we know that they are trustworthy? He is a demon after all, and his master’s primary goal is still unknown. I cannot risk Father’s safety.

“Come now, milady. The young master must be waiting for us at the inn by now.” Sebastian sighed still unsatisfied with your answer. What a strange woman. I must say, it does intrigue me even more. I still don’t sense a threat from her but I would like to know who exactly she is.

You and Sebastian continued your walk back to the inn in an awkward silence. The tension between you was heavy but neither of you dare spoke. You could feel Sebastian’s red eyes watching you from behind. You were glad to look up and see the familiar entrance of the inn with the young lord impatiently tapping his foot outside, waiting for the two of you to get back. You chuckled at the sight. In this moment, Ciel Phantomhive did not look like a brooding Earl of a large estate and the Queen’s Watchdog. He looked like a regular boy, impatiently waiting for something. It truly was a sight to behold, that was until a velvety voice cut the silence.

“My, my, Young Master, did we have you waiting for long?” Sebastian stifled a laugh, obviously enjoying the look of irritation plastered on the boy’s face.

Ciel huffed, “What took you two so damn long?! I was waiting here for hours!!”

You bowed your head, trying to mask your amusement in the young lord’s tantrum. “Apologies, my Lord. There was a bit of a mix up at the market.”

Although still quite obviously irritated, Ciel softened his voice a bit in response to your apology. “Well, don’t let it happen again. I hate to be left waiting.” He then turned to Sebastian, “And what took you so long?!”

Sebastian smiled, placing his hand on his heart to feign innocence, “Why I was only worried about how Lady (Y/N) was getting along in her investigation.” You furrowed your brow, looking at Sebastian in the corner of your eyes to see where exactly he was going to take this. “It’s a good thing I came too. A strange man had her in a dark alleyway all by herself. I had to run him off before anything escalated.” He finished off his story, shooting you a look.

You rolled your eyes, turning to the questioned look of the earl. “Now, now, Sebastian, everything was going on well before you came along. That boy thought he was saving me from a rude shopkeeper. He actually would’ve been great to question but somebody’s butler decided to butt in.” You added a fake sweetness to your tone and shot back the same fake smile Sebastian had plastered on his face.

Ciel looked between the two of you with a raised brow before sighing in defeat, “Well, did either of you at least find anything interesting?”

Sebastian and you shared a look before shaking your head in unison.

Ciel groaned at the lack of information from his “parents”. “Ugh, well lucky for us, I found something rather interesting. Some children I found playing in the streets were talking about somebody they call ‘Granny’.”You and Sebastian nodded as you listened to Ciel continue on. “Apparently this ‘Granny’ will visit children each night, asking them about the kinds of treats they love and if their parents give them those treats. Granny will then come back the next night with your favorite treats and offer you a chance to get more treats in her cottage. As many treats as you would like. If they decline the offer, they are given their treats and told to go back to bed.”

“And what happens if they accept?” You questioned.

Ciel shrugged. “According to the children, Granny takes you away to her cottage and you could eat all the sweets and treats you’d ever like.”

“Well that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.” you say sarcastically.

“Hmmm. It seems like a trick question. Why, if you say ‘no’ you get rewarded with a treat. But If you say ‘yes’, you are still rewarded but with a significant amount more than if you were to answer ‘no’.” Sebastian thought aloud, stroking his chin.

You nodded in agreement. “Why would you want just one treat when you can have as much as you’d like? Of course, children will lie a bit to get what they want. Especially if they don’t know the consequences then and there.”

“And who wouldn’t trust a grandmotherly old woman?” Ciel added. “Yes, this ‘Granny’ may be who we are looking for after all.”

-----------------time skip to night fall--------------------------------------------------

Exhausted from the day out, you were glad to be able to wash the day away and slip into your night gown. You heard a knock at the door. You smirked, knowing exactly who could be knocking on your door at this hour.

“Enter.” you answered, mindlessly brushing your wet hair, turning to speak to your visitor. “You know Sebastian, you shouldn-” you cut yourself off, surprised to see who stood in front of you. Instead of the man you were expecting it to be, it was the man you had met earlier in the market place. Henry. You remembered.

It seemed that he was just as surprised to see you as you were to see him. A blush crept up on his cheeks as he was trying to find the words to speak to you. You broke the silence first.

Time to play up the charm. What a bother, I just wanted to go straight to bed. Maybe irritate Sebastian a bit if he came for a visit. You thought to yourself. “Why, Henry!! It’s marvelous to see you again! And so soon!” You gave him a warm smile. “But if you don’t mind my asking, what exactly are you doing here?”

Henry laughed a bit in response, obviously still at a lost for words. “Well me mum and dad run this inn, you see. I come in from time to time and offer my assistance. I was actually told to bring more linens to this room but I had no idea you were in here (Y/N).” He said with a boyish grin. He looked around the room a bit, “By the way, where’s that big scary husband of yours? He didn’t leave you all alone here did he?”

Shit. It wouldn’t look right if Sebastian and I had separate rooms as a married couple. “Oh, I’m actually not too sure. I do believe he might still be putting our son to bed. To be honest, I thought you were him when you knocked.” you chuckled.

Henry raised a brow, a playful grin playing at his lips. “Well, it wouldn’t be good for business if I were to leave a guest lonely and unsatisfied, now would it?” He was saying as he made his way to the bed and placed the fresh linens on it, while taking a seat himself. He really emphasized the words “lonely and unsatisfied”, making a point to stare into your eyes.

You laughed. Cheeky bastard. “I can assure you there is no need for that Henry. I do thank you for your hospitality, however, my husband should be returning very soon. I don’t know how he would react with a strange man in the room alone with me... sitting on the bed.” You shot him a playful smirk, amused at his shamelessness.

Henry held his chest, feigning an injury to his heart, “Strange man?! Is that anyway to speak to your host and savior from earlier? I just wanted to make sure our guests are well taken care of.”

You rolled your eyes in response. This man is quite amusing and charming. He must be very popular with women. You could say he has a ‘demon’s tongue’ by the way he can so easily charm you. You thought to yourself a bit before looking back up at Henry. “Actually, there is something you can help me out with if you don’t mind.”

Henry sat up, eagerly waiting for your request. Wow he’s characteristically similar to a dog. Before you could even ask him about any strange happenings that he may know of, you heard a familiar voice slice through the air. “What can he help you with, that I can’t already do for you?”

You and Henry both turned to see Sebastian, standing at the door, glaring at Henry. Henry shot up from the bed, making a point to pick up the fresh linens and set them on the bed again. You wanted to laugh at the scene unfolding before you, but you decided it was in everyone’s best interest (especially Henry’s) that you didn’t. “Now, now Sebastian, that’s no way to speak to our host. It was purely by luck that we ran into each other again. Isn’t it wonderful?” Your last sentence was meant to add fuel to the fire. You liked this game. Sebastian was definitely an interesting game piece.

Sebastian looked at you with that devilish glow in his eyes before turning back to Henry with his signature fake smile. “Ah yes Harry isn’t it? (Y/N) told me all about that fiasco you saved her from earlier today. I must express my gratitude to you for assisting my darling wife.” Ugh why am I feeling this way again? He’s nothing but a human pest. Sebastian questioned himself. It must be this girl, casting some type of spell. Sebastian concluded that you were a sorceress of some sort, since that was the only thing that could make any sense to him. After all, he only had feelings of incredible hostility towards Henry when he was with you.

“It’s actually Henry. And it’s a pleasure to see you again, Steven.” Henry bowed a bit still upholding his duties as our host.

Sebastian gritted his teeth, “Hmph, my name is Sebastian.”

Henry completely ignored Sebastian’s comment before continuing, “My family runs this inn here, you see. I was told to bring in some fresh linens for our guests and it was just my luck to run into this pretty lady again.” He finished turning to you with a warm smile.

You returned the smile, eyeing Sebastian in the corner of your eye. You could visibly see him getting increasingly irritated by Henry’s presence in the room.

Ugh the testosterone in this room is quite suffocating. You rolled your eyes at the display of passive aggressive challenging between the man and demon before you. I have to admit that this is quite entertaining, but with Sebastian here, Henry might not be able to speak as freely as he would like to. I have to speak with Henry alone.

Sebastian glided to you in a few steps, placing his hand on your shoulder. “Well darling, what was it you needed help with? Surely we can stop bothering this man as he has many other guests to attend to.”

You let out a breathy laugh, a mischievous idea to poke fun at Sebastian popping into your head, “Well, actually, I’m glad that both of you are here now... Why have one, when I can have two at the same time?” you paused looking at the puzzled look on Henry’s face, a deep red blush blooming onto his face, and the glare coming from Sebastian. Sebastian squeezed your shoulder a bit, almost as a warning. You placed your hand on his and squeezed back before swiftly brushing it off your shoulder.

You innocently elaborated with, “We don’t have many friends and I love having guests. It’s like our own little after dinner party isn’t it?”

Henry cleared his throat, pushing away any thoughts your previous comments may have ignited. “Well, either way, I’ll be happy to assist you again Miss (Y/N). With anything.” Henry winked at you.

This cheeky brat. What game is Lady (Y/N) playing at by entertaining this fool. Sebastian huffed to himself, his demon eyes having a low glow in irritation. He sighed grinning to himself. He then bent down and scooped you up, carrying you over to the bed, all the while speaking to Henry without looking at him. “Well, Harry, it is getting to be quite late. It’s about time I put (Y/N) to bed. Although...” He paused a bit, gently placing you onto the bed and placing himself at the edge but still leaning over you territorially. He began unbuttoning his shirt and looked back up at Henry who was now standing at the door, “She won’t be getting much sleep tonight...” Sebastian smirked, placing his gloved hand on your thigh. “You can see yourself out, sir.”

Your eyes widened at Sebastian’s wickedness, turning your head to see Henry’s reaction. His face was red again, but this time he stared at the floor looking disappointed. He cleared his throat, “Goodnight Miss (Y/N). Sleep well.”

“Oh, she will.” Sebastian answered, earning a glare from Henry as he slammed the door shut.

Poor boy. You thought, noting the look on Henry’s face at Sebastian’s actions and words. He shouldn’t look so disappointed. I am “married” with a “child” after all. You were too busy thinking to yourself to even notice that Sebastian had climbed on top you, placing his hands on either side of your head. You were met by demon eyes, glowing dangerously bright.

“Jealously is a strange look on you Sebastian.” you said coyly.

Sebastian laughed, “Jealousy is not a feeling typically known by demons. However...” he leaned down to where his lips brushed against your ear, “I do know what feels good.”

You raised a brow, “I’m sure you do.”

Placing a hand on Sebastian’s chest, you gently push him off you so you could sit up. This simple gesture seemed to surprise him a bit as you watched his widened eyes return to their usual red color. He sat in front of you, staring at you suspiciously.

“You should stay in here tonight.” you stated. Sebastian snapped his neck to look at you again with a surprised look that soon turned into a devious smile.

You laughed at his reaction, bringing your hand up to gently poke the middle of his forehead. This earned yet another bewildered look from the demon in front of you. “I mean, you should stay here tonight because it will look suspicious if we are sleeping in different rooms when we are supposed to be a married couple.”

Sebastian seemed to think for a bit before nodding in agreement to you. “You are correct. It will look a bit strange if we do not share a room as husband and wife. Especially with that cheeky fellow running around.”

You nodded. “Well that settles it, you’ll stay in here tonight. Don’t worry about your master, he is in the next room and we can both hear if something happens.” You patted the spot next to you, “Why don’t you try to sleep? Demons use sleep for recreational purpose, don’t they?”

“Milady, how did you kn-”

“Ugh never mind that Sebastian. Unlike you, I actually need to sleep.” you cut him off, turning on your side to go to sleep. “Tomorrow, I will try to get any information I can by speaking with Henry... alone.”

“Bu-”

“It would be a great deal of help if you were not present, my dear husband. I don’t need to witness another masculinity match between the two of you.”

Sebastian was a bit taken aback by everything you just said and your casualness about it, but he just laughed, “As you wish, milady.” He answered before climbing over to the spot next to you, laying down on his back.

You rolled over to face him, “And don’t you try anything funny while I’m asleep. I am a light sleeper and I will not hesitate to break your arms.” you huffed at him before rolling back over to fall asleep.

Sebastian smiled at the back of your head, his heart thumping and a strange feeling creeping up Into his stomach. Ugh why am I feeling this way? I feel sick. But it’s also a nice feeling... I’ll have to ask the young master about it tomorrow. He sighed to himself before closing his eyes and drifting off into slumber.

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Hey guys!! I know this part is a bit short but hope you enjoy it!! Lemme know if you have any request or suggestions :)

#sebastian #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis imagine #imagine #imagines #fanfiction #anime imagine #husband #demons #ciel phantomhive #ciel #earl phantomhive #black butler #black butler imagines #black butler x reader #Kiroshitsuji

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madllamamomma · 5 years ago

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Journey Back to the South Part 10~

[Ok I am so sorry this is late! I am currently on vacation with my husband, then my step dad now has the virus and that really stressed me out, because I’m closer to him than my own P.O.S. father... Sooooo yeah... Life is a nightmare. Thats why I write fan fiction to escape it..... Thats healthy.... right......right?.... *crickets....* Anyways, enjoy!]

WARNING: Heavy topics about abuse and rape. NSFW.

Part 10~

“You’re important too.”~

As the crowd is continuously distracted by giving praise to the new Illuminator, Muriel is still gently forcing his way towards the front where you are standing. As he finally comes to your rescue, he is just as shocked as you are to find Shona, the sole Kokhurian in all of the Shining Steppe that claims to despise you and your people, hugging your neck and literally crying on your shoulder. Unsure what to do, your hands hover over her but you are unsure what to do with them. “Uummm…”.

“Thank you….” Shona whispers, shakiness in her voice. Just as quickly as she embraced you, she pulls away and scurries off out of the gathering tent without a second glance or thoughts. Everyone else is too focused on showering Ava with much deserved praise, no one else even noticed what had just happened.

You glance up and meet Muriel’s eyes, and he mirrors the same dumbfounded expression that's in your face. As his hand wraps around your waist to pull you close, you both stare out the tent in the direction she fled, and he mutters. “Did…..did she…. just—?”

You nod your head slowly, still completely stunned as well. “I’m…. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who witnessed it. I don’t think I would have believed what happened…… I still don’t believe it actually.”

This is… very shocking. Little did you suspect that she’d thank you let alone hug you.

Soon the crowd makes their way outside around the large fire in the middle of camp. Muriel tugs you both along with everyone else and notice Una standing in front of the fire as she speaks in Ruin. “We thank our Great Mother and Great Father for blessing us with a very fruitful year. We have had many blessings that we have shared. Many victories, and some losses. But we are strong, we will always keep going. Tonight concludes our Winter Solstice! May winter have mercy on us as we continue to honor our Great Mother and Father. May our departed visit us tonight as the spirit realm and the living realm merge tonight....” Una keeps going on, but you start to zone out slightly feeling very tired all of a sudden and you lean into your hermit. Even he looks a bit tired, lusting after a good night sleep.

As soon as the closing ceremony was completed, Muriel, Inanna and you head back to the tent and nearly collapse out of exhaustion. Lazily taking off your clothes and dress into your long shirt and taking off your pants. All the anxiousness you and Muriel had felt for Ava’s trials have all but vanished and left the want to sleep for about a full day or two. Even though the ‘celebration’ was completed, it sounds like others are still up, singing, dancing, and being merry and whatnot… Hmmm… it has to be for Ava. But they deserve to be celebrated over! They worked so hard... You groggily turn over and murmur good night to Muriel and Inanna before you gently drift off to sleep and you feel a feather light kiss on your temple and his warm arm wrap around the small of your back. For some reason you hear Una’s words repeat in your head before slipping out of consciousness.

‘May our departed visit us tonight…… as the spirit realm and the living realm merge tonight…..’

—————————

The feeling of being on all fours and fur all over my body are becoming rather familiar to me now. The dark tundra is frigid and icy and I can see my warm breath cloud in front of my face, yet it never bothers me. The moon is just barely showing any light on the dark plane. I’m alone again…. but not for very long.

I can’t help but feel such joy when I start to sense warm air rush overhead and a large ball of fire lights up the hillside. It’s her…. Rhemi… She flutters her wings over me for a moment and she makes happy little calls and I growl softly back in response. Gracefully, she brings herself down from the sky and perches herself on a nearby bolder. Once comfortable, her flames dissipate showing her dark brown and red feathers, the dark night blankets the vast tundra once again. For a moment I just gaze at her…. Even now, underneath all her magical flames she is so beautiful. She always is…

My body starts to move, and before I realize it I’m sitting next to her by the boulder. Her small beak rests on my snout, and she snuggles up against my thick fur like she always does, even in the real world. I always like how she does that. It makes me feel wanted… loved. After a while the two of us start to stare into the dark night sky, I’m unsure why, but I feel like something is bound to happen soon.

The Aurora’s lights suddenly start to dance across the sky and I can hear that deep humming once again. With bright colorful lights illuminating the tundra, I can see that we are sitting in the middle of Khamgali’s graveyard on a small hill.

One by one I can see what looks like people’s casts burst from the ground and tombstones. Bears, wolves, eagles, hawks, caribou, foxes, and many other animals crawl out. But after they come out, their bodies become physical like mine and Rhemi’s. The bright colors of the cast dissipate giving away to the various furs, feathers and other features. Thousands emerge and stretch their limbs and backs out as if they have been resting for a long time. Soon the creatures start to roam around, seemingly recognizing each other, and greet nearby animals. Some even start to wrestle, chase, or play around on the vast plane. I find myself rather dumbfounded at this sight, unable to take my eyes off the scene. It is even rather entertaining to see.

“...Muriel?..” A very deep male voice calls out from behind us nearly startling Rhemi and I—I…. I feel like I know that voice… The two of us quickly turn around. Two bears are standing side by side; one as big as I am, maybe even slightly bigger, and the other is smaller and silky, beautiful. They both have deep green eyes and have this presence to them that feels…. comforting…. warm… I feel like I know them. Like I used to see them in my dreams before when I was young…

The smaller one starts to approach me warily, apparently attempting to not scare me… She smells sweet like fresh heather and after the morning dew. It finally clicks in my head… Her presence is all too familiar and I step backwards ashamed and I hang my head down low wishing to disappear. I glance my eyes over to Rhemi, still perched on the boulder. She looks a little confused at first, but seems to understand who these bears are as she sees my face. Her ruby eyes light up, and she mutters a low chirp as her eyes glance back to the two bears in wonder.

I shake my head as my eyes shut close tightly and the feeling of dread overwhelms me, tightening my chest and my stomach feels like it's in knots. No…. please no… No, no, no…. I…. I really don’t deserve you or your comfort… all this time I thought you both….. just got rid of me… Because I was a burden… but really you were just protecting me… protecting this land… Now that I stayed here I completely understand why you did….. but for the longest time… I didn’t want to care about you… I didn’t want to even think about you…… No…. I don’t deserve your love.

Suddenly I feel the small bear lifts my head up with hers and starts to softly growl and grunt as she lovingly nuzzles my furry neck with her small silky soft snout. She’s a lot stronger than I expected and she pushes up against me, but she’s comforting non the less…. She has tears in her deep green eyes as she huddles close to me. The other larger one trots over and gently lays his head over top of mine. Why does the feeling of him there so reminiscent of when he would pat me on top of my head? I remember enjoying that when he came back after hunting or trading…. Now that I think about it, I do the same to Ida when I see her.

The two bears both are making very small sad, yet happy, gruff whimpering noises like their hearts are torn in two… I don’t want to… but I feel myself relax as they are around me. I know why you both stayed here and fought—I do now at least… but…… part of me…. wishes we all left the Steppe together—GodDamn it….. that sounds so selfish.…. But…. I wish…. I got to know you both better myself… I wish you got to know... me. Maybe… I’d be more like you two…. maybe I would be braver….. stronger…

The small bear pulls away to look me in the eyes. I can see the corner of lips curl up… she’s smiling at me… she looks… proud? “Our little cub…” She says softly, but somehow does it without moving her mouth at all. Her voice is as silky, calm, and smooth as her fur... Just like I faintly remember when she used to sing home to sleep.

“... Look how you have grown. Our boy, mo ghoul.” The large bear mutters, his voice shaky. His voice minds me of the one in my head. Very similar to my own when I speak, but just slightly different….. it’s strange to hear. “We love you, Son… we always have….”

I don’t open my mouth…. but somehow words flow out like a river before I can stop them. “..... I know….. I know you did…. I’m sorry…. I’m so sorry…” I can feel tears drop down my long nose. Just less than a minute ago, I didn’t want them to come even near me…. but… now…. I don’t want them to leave…. “I wish I was better for you both…..”

“Nothing to be sorry about, my son.” The bigger bear mutters in such a kind and warm tone. “We can never ask for a better son. We are sorry we had to leave so soon.”

The two bears huddle up to me once again. This time they are even tighter… Even though they don't have any arms, I can feel their loving embrace around me. It feels good… Like I have been craving it somehow. “We will always be here with you cub…. Always…. Even if you don’t see us.” The smaller bear says.

….I can feel that pulling once again…. Something is taking me back to my body…..

Please no!..... Why?! Why am I being pulled back now?! Whatever this is—a God? Father Sky? Or Mother Earth?.... or even me…. Please stop this!! Don’t make me leave them!!.... Not again… Please!!! I want to be with them…..just... let me stay…. just a little longer….. wait… —WAIT!

“We love you, little cub.” I can hear them both say as I fade away from this realm….

“..... I love you both too…..”

————————

You can feel as Muriel snaps his trunk up from the bedding with a gasp. For a moment he just sits there panting hard. His movements wake you from your slumber as well. But it takes you a few seconds for you to sit up and get awake. Once you feel like you can move your body, you rub your tired eyes to comfort Muriel… Those bears... they were Glenna and Artturi… his parents. Una mentioned that the solstice was the time when the spirit realm is closest to the living. You glance up towards the hole in the tent. It’s still night, the moon is hardly even out... Probably not even midnight yet.

Carefully you slide your small fingers and lace them with his and he very slowly tightens his grasp. You both sit there for a while in silence listening to the fire crackle and hiss. “...You ok?....” You very quietly ask, leaning your head against his large deltoid and look up to his very emotionally torn face. He presses his lips tightly together and he very sluggishly nods his head, but you can see the tears forming in his eyes. “.... Ya’ know….. It’s ok to miss them….” You whisper.

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying so hard to say what’s on his mind. “I didn't…. I didn’t care when I forgot their voices… or their faces…” He stops for a moment and he closes his eyes and furrows his brow, thinking hard. “.... I dunno…. maybe I didn’t think I did…. but… but now… I.... I just…. just…. wish……” Tears flow from his eyes and chokes on his sentence. He covers his eyes with his hands to stop them and shakes his head irritated with himself as his body starts to tremble. “.....S-... Sorry…. Rem.” He murmurs through his tears.

“Please, don’t be sorry, Mur...” Your heart breaks in two anytime you see him cry like this… but it’s to be expected after that dream. Sitting on your knees, you wrap your arms around Muirel’s shoulders from behind him and place a kiss on his temple bone. Those two bears were his parents' spirits…. ghosts?… previous casts?— Well…. whatever you want to call them, and however they got there hardly matters. The fact is that they were there to see him. Perhaps Artturi still can leap into dreams even after death?...Maybe he knows how to bring Glenna with him?...Who really knows?... You take in a large thoughtful breath and place a soft kiss on Muriel’s head again. “... It’s okay to miss them… even if you don’t remember.” You understand how it feels not to remember your parents faces either. It hurts not to know—it’s almost infuriating how much it does.

He shakes his head avoiding looking you in the eye. “.... All my life…. I didn’t… let myself… miss them..... but n-... now…. Do… do I even have the right to?.... Especially after the way I thought of them? That they just... abandoned their only son?”

“Of course you do, Love…” You tenderly guild his head down and turn him so he rests his head on your chest and pet his hair and he clutches the back of your shirt. He seems to feel soothed once he’s there and starts to calm down a bit. “….. You were too young to understand what was really happening…… no one was there to tell you tell you otherwise….. You did what you had to do to survive….. Perhaps thinking that they sent you away was a method of coping with it all… somehow to make sense of it... It’s better than not knowing anything forever… I think guessing about it most of your early life would have been worse.” He huffs a long exhale and shrugs. Your fingers brush through his dark hair pulling it out of his handsome face. “...You really shouldn't beat yourself up about it, Muriel. ”

“.... I wish I could… see—” He slightly flounders in his words, then gives up mid sentence in frustration. “—I…. I don’t know…..”

“Come here…..” You whisper, very tenderly pulling him back down to the bedding. As you rest your head back on the pillows and he buries himself into your neck and shoulder holding you tight while you both lay on your sides. You squeeze him back comfortingly, tears still slowly trickling from his eyes. “... They both were so happy to see you….” You mutter just above a whisper, pushing back his hair out of his face again.

He softly closes his eyes, melting into your touch, but doesn't appear to be convinced. “.... How can I know?.... Know for sure?..”

“They were. I know it…… So do you…. they loved you, Muri. They still do….. I… I think they’re still watching like Khamgalai….. But perhaps the Great Lights really do hold a part of their spirits….. even after a year has passed…. just like Kok… I guess we’ll never really know for sure…. But I know they are proud of you. You could tell on their faces.”

“...... I….. I wish I could have known them…..” His body starts to feel slightly warmer as he looks back into your eyes rather sheepishly. “... I wish…. they could have met… you….”

You smile back at him a little… He doesn’t know. “Well…” He lifts his head up slightly and listens to you intently. “....Before….. I woke up….. And you left…. For some reason I stayed a little longer….”

“...What?” His eyes light up and widen as you say that. “.... What…. what did they…?”

“.....They just…. Kinda hugged me—well first your mother inspecting new all over like Una did our first day here— but then they both nuzzled their faces kindly on me like they did to you….” You can feel as your cheeks glow red as you continue and Muriel still has his eyes locked onto your in astonishment. “...They asked me…. To take care of you…..”

“They….. they did?” Muriel seems to get a hold of his tears now. You scoot into your back and he follows, slightly hovering over you, resting his hand on his propped up arm... “.....and… what did you say?”

You can’t help but give a silly love stricken grin as you open your mouth to tell him the answer. “I told them I would… forever…. until I drew my last breath… and even after that…..” Your hands start to shake a bit, feeling anxious as you continue, and you grab his large hand and caress his palm with your small thumbs. “.... I will always be here by your side, Muriel. I will protect you with all my might….” His eyes seem to sparkle when you utter those words and he looks so adorably smitten. But then your brain decides to ruin the moment as overthinking takes over and you start to expel words. “Well—I know that’s not saying much… I-I’m not very strong physically compared to you—…. but you know I can kick some ass if I need too— I won’t let anyone hurt you that’s for sure! As long as I can—” Suddenly Muriel’s hand cups your right cheek and he presses his parted lips to yours, stopping your silly rant and kisses you like you're the air he needs to breathe. A little surprised muffled squeak escapes from behind your teeth, but then you start to melt into his touch and kiss him back.

As he very slowly pulls away, his forehead meets with yours with a little happy grin on his face as he strokes your bottom lip with his thumb. “.... Sometimes….. you talk too much….” He says with an amused snort.

You slightly pull away, sticking out your bottom lip, feeling a little embarrassed and you avert your gaze to the other side of the tent and sigh, “Yeaaaaah….. I know…” You do have a tendency to rant at the worst of times.

He exhales sharply through his nose and he turns your face back with his thumb and pointer. “....But I love you for it….” He sits up, holds you close and your head rests in his large shoulder as he embraces you tightly, and you kiss his neck a little. “... thanks…. for being here… and…. letting me talk… and understanding me…”

You smile wrapping your arms around his strong torso. “I always will, Muri… I love you… with all my heart.”

“... I love you too….” His whispers back in your ear very sweetly.

He returns laying on his side facing toward your direction and the two of you lay there facing one another, still entangled in each other's arms as you both drift off back to sleep.

—————With feather made of hot embers, you float back to the realm of dreams————

…….But this time Muriel isn’t there with you….

You glance down, and your feathers have faded away and you are in your normal body.

This place…. it looks familiar….. you're not sure where you’ve seen it before. But it feels like you’ve dreamt…. or maybe been there…. but a very long time ago...

—It’s night time again. The buildings look different to you compared to the ones back home. They are mostly made of wood instead of brick or stone, they are delicate looking. Tall mountain peaks are surrounded everywhere, on the very tops are powdered with snow. It looks like whatever city you’re in, lives in the heart of a valley. The sea is nowhere in sight, neither is salt in the air. You’re landlocked. It's rather pretty scenery wise, but a strong sense of foreboding seeps into your chest as you continue to roam this strange place…. Why do I know this place…. it's so pretty here… so why do I feel like I hate it?

Suddenly you stumble upon what looks like a noble’s house… a vast mansion with tall widows and ornate sculptures everywhere… It's rather lovely… almost reminds you almost of Nadia’s palace, the bright lights inside make the stained glass windows shimmer as they cast their colored light on the stone outside. As it appears to be flakes of snow are softy falling down. You peer up and twirl around, even though you hate being cold, you have always liked to watch snow as it fell from the heavens. Cupping your hands, you reach out your palms to catch them. However the white snow turns dark and looks ominous. Once it falls into your hands you then realize it’s not snow at all—It’s soot and embures falling from the sky. Your body makes an about face back to the beautiful home. The entire mansion is now engulfed in flames. You never thought that stone or marble could catch fire…. but it seems that you were wrong….

There isn’t a soul around and you look all over for someone to help put it out. But it’s dead still other than the terrible flames consuming the building. You're still all alone…. or so you think…. Out of nowhere, a lone woman with dark brownish red shoulder length hair, and very familiar looking clothing is suddenly standing in front of you about eight meters away. With her back turned away as she stares at the flames as they quickly eat away at the mansion. “...H-... Hello?” You quietly call out to her, almost afraid to utter a single word.

Eerily the mysterious woman turns her neck around very sluggishly, just enough to reveal a small part of her profile over her shoulder. The whites of her eyes are blood red and sickly looking, you can even see red veins under her eyes and mouth. You take a few steps back instinctively out of fear. I know that look all too well…. The red plague….. those are the end stages…. The visible corner of her lip curls up into a comfortable grin as she stares at you with those cold burgundy eyes that almost have no life in them.

Your feet take a few steps back in fear. “Who….. who are you?”

She still won’t turn herself all the way around to face you, but there isn’t any denying her familiar features.... Is that…. me? Your eyes squint and you tilt your head feeling just completely dumbfounded once again tonight.

Finally she opens her mouth and begins to speak over the loud roaring flames as the mansion’s riff begins to crumble away. “...... You know who…...” it’s rather creepy to hear your own voice answer you, but it sounds so weak… so tired… so strained.

“What do you want?...” You ask not sure if to run or press on.

“.... Truth….” She replies, the loud noises if the inferno dampens as she speaks, you can hear her crystal clearly.

“...Wha—What do you mean ‘truth’?” You shake your head slowly trying to comprehend this strange answer. “Where are we—?”

A loud viscous enraged scream suddenly comes from the fiery mansion making you nearly jump out of your skin. It sounds like a person has been very badly injured…. But a very icy shiver runs down your spine and shakes you to your very core. It sounds like the voice of the creature who killed Ezavior—It frightens you to hear it again so soon. “W-..... What is that?? Is there someone in there? Shouldn’t we save them??”

The wind starts to pick up her hair and flows over her face. “....You know who…..”

You feel as your mouth sneers at that preposterous answer. “What??—No I don’t! That's why I’m asking!”

“You know who it is…..” She repeats sounding almost saddened. “.... You can’t deny it….. You know they survived… You remember seeing them… don’t you?”

“What—? No!!! I don’t!!! Don’t you listen??” You start to become frustrated with all of this strangeness, and just desire answers, not more coded messages.

She shakes her head disappointedly, her grin falls and turns her back to you once more and sighs. “...You're still not ready… one day your going to need to face this…I may not be here to protect you anymore.....”

“What?— What does that even mean?”

“.....Now is not the time…. Not yet.... you should go.”

“What do you mean I’m not ready?!— WOOOH!! HEY!!” Out of nowhere an invisible force wraps around your torso and throws you backwards through an open door frame. It’s so dark inside.

She finally turns all the ways around, but the flames cast too dark of a shadow for you to see her sick face. “Go…. be with him… enjoy the time you share spending together.” She says warily.

“What do you mean?? What’s going on?! Wait just a moment!!! Why aren’t fucking answer me??”

She brings up her left hand and waves it. “I suppose you’ll see in time….” She utters lastly as the door shut in front of your face before you can dash out of it.

“Wait!!!” You scream right before the door completely slam closed. It then starts to feel farther and farther out of reach then it completely disappears into oblivion and you find you yourself running towards it. “WAIIT!!!!!”

—————

“Mmmmmmm…. W-Wait......” Your body sits straight up and you wake with a start fluttering your eyes open….. Did I just say.. something… just now? What was I even doing?

“Rem—You ok?” Muriel and Inanna quickly come to your side from the middle of the tent by the fire, both look rather worried. “—Was it another bad dream?”

You squint your eyes and look all around, slowly becoming oriented with where you exactly are. “Hmmmm? Wha-.....What now?”

Muriel brushes his knuckles against your sleepy cheek and huffs a bit grumpily. “.... Did you just have a bad dream?”

You realize that you were just dreaming and it was a strange one too. You tilt your head looking at the covers, squinting your eyes in attempts to recall it… but there is just nothing…nothing you can remember about what you just dreamt. Inanna nudges her snout under your right elbow and you start to lift your arm up to pet her still pondering hard. Your lips click, and you shake your head a little. “...I….. I don’t really know….. it was definitely a weird one….. But I…. I can’t really tell you what happened in it….” He looks at you pointedly, brow slightly furrowed, looking for any signs of fibbing. You stifle and yawn and drowsily smirk taking his wrist and place it over your cheek, cuing him to hold your face. “I told you I would talk to you. I promised, Mur. This time I really don’t remember. I would tell you if I did.”

He sighs and he slightly relaxes as you lean into his touch and he strokes your cheek with his thumb, looking more convinced. “Alright….” He leans down and kisses your forehead sweety and you do a little happy tired wiggle. “Come on, I made some breakfast for us.”

“Alrighty~” You get yourself out of bed, quickly donning your tight pants for warmth. It may be warmer from the fire in this tent, but the temperature has most definitely gotten colder since you both arrived nearly two weeks ago. As you get on your socks, you see that Muriel was kind enough to make you some fish and eggs for breakfast. And you start to boil the kettle for tea. “Whatcha think, Love? Earl grey, or cinnamon chai this morning?”

“Hmmmm….” He looks thoughtfully glancing between the tea tins, then closes his eyes. “..I like them both... But Chai always goes good with fish… I think so anyway...”

“Oooo!! That’s true. Good call, my sweet~” You say with a toothy yawn and start to prep the tea cups. While the tea steeping, you take the time to stretch like you do every morning when you can, making your spine and hips pop satisfyingly. Muriel just shakes his head with a small grin as he watches you. He may attempt to hide it, but you are pretty sure he likes to watch when you do a stretch called ‘the pigeon’, it shows off how flexible you are.

Soon all three of you start to chow down breakfast that your hermit so kindly made for you in comfortable silence. Slowly you start to wake up, the food and the chai tea slowly bring you back to life this early morning. As Muriel swallows his last piece of fish, then stares very thoughtfully into the fire, a somber expression washing over him. “.....Should be leaving soon.” He faintly breaks the silence and you stop mid bite to listen to him. “.... Gilbert says the snow will be falling any day… don’t want to get stuck…. Asra would be sad….and so will his idiot.” Muriel's face looks almost sad when he says that. You can only imagine how hard it is to leave his new found family. But you both have obligations back in Vesuvia… you with the shop and him with the forest.

You lean into his arm and snuggle up to him and he leans back. “We’ll come back next year.”

He blows out sharply through his nose and brings his tea cup to his lips. “....Yeah, I know.”

You both lapse back into silence for a moment and you think about the middle of last night during the dream in the graveyard and Muriel’s parents. He said he didn’t remember their faces or voices….. but Una has a way of tapping into distant memories. “Hey…. Muriel?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you remember when we first met Una in the graveyard?”

He nods firmly, unsure where you're getting at. “...What of it?”

“...Well .... I was thinking… about last night…. What you said…. about your parents….”

“Oh…..” He averts his eyes over to the other side of the tent and still looks a bit ashamed for some reason. “What does that have to do with the first day we met everyone?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, curiosity now in his gaze.

You look back at your warm tea and run your pointer finger over the rim. “... Well…. before we leave… maybe…. you can ask Una…. to show you…. your par—”

“--M-Madainn mhath!” Just as you were about to finish your thought, you hear a familiar little child’s voice outside the tent. “....Cousin!..... Not Cousin!!” It’s Ida. And by the second pair of feet stepping behind her, it sounds like she isn’t alone. Inanna's tail starts to wag as she hears her little voice and quietly whimpers in excitement. Who is gonna miss Ida more when we leave? Muriel or Inanna? You smile and chuckle to yourself. “....Are you both awake?” Ida calls out again, but a little quieter in fear that she may be disturbing you two.

Muriel and you exchange surprised glances, it’s still early in the morning. You shrug and you and Muriel stand up. “....Uhhh…. H-hang on, Ida.” Muriel replies, grabbing his shirt and throwing it on while you make yourself decent. He shoots you a quick glance before opening the tent and you nod once you fasten your corset belt over your long shirt.

Once the entrance is untied and opened, Ida steps in and Inanna goes straight for her, licking her little face and she giggles adorably. “Nana!! Tha thu a ’fàileadh mar èisg!! Hee-hee!” She hasn’t been wearing her hood lately, perhaps she’s becoming more comfortable in her own skin. Not very much to your surprise, Ava comes into the tent behind her, they look a little tired, evident with the small bags under their eyes. They were probably up all night celebrating after getting the approval from the elders, but they look so happy like a five ton weight was lifted off their shoulders. It looks good on them.

“Ida…. Ava.” Muriel says stepping aside to welcome them in with a nod. “Morning.”

Ava smiles up at him with a toothy grin, this is the happiest you have even seen them other than last night. You are actually excited to see them again. The last you saw of them they were being paraded around camp the night before and you didn’t get to say good night. You lunge forward and wrap your arms around them giving them a large hug, almost startling them (but they have almost gotten used to your mannerisms). “AVA!!!! How’s my favorite Master Illuminator doing today~?” You ask cheekily, moving them slightly side-to-side in excitement.

Ava’s face quickly flushes, yet they can’t help but keep a large humble smile on their lips as you call them that. You pull away so you can watch as they communicate with their hands. “... Not a master yet, Rhemi….. but I am officially an Illuminator now… that is thanks to you and Cousin Muriel of course.”

“We were very happy to help! Right, Love?” You turn your face towards him with a giddy looking grin.

Muriel smiles over to Ava and gives a solid nod, then reaches down and pats Ida’s head and she giggles again. She turns around, grabbing his wrist and starts to inspect it. He snorts, knowing what she is looking for. “Don’t worry.” He says showing her the bracelet she made him. “... I haven’t taken it off…. I promised you I wouldn't.” Her little cheeks are painted bright pink as she lifts up her arm and shows hers as well.

Ava makes a little muffled laugh at the two of them then turns their attention back to you. “Sorry to interrupt you both this early in the morning. Didn’t want to wake you.”

“That’s alright. We were just having some breakfast.—We have some tea left if you’d like some.”

Ava politely shakes their head. “We are here on business…”

“Business?” You repeat with your head tilted slightly a little surprised.

Ava scratches their neck and looks slightly sheepish. “.... The elders are all in the gathering tent this morning. They asked me to come and get you two. They want you and Cousin to join us.”

Muriel looks rather confused, still not understanding Ava’s hand language as you start to look uneasy. Ida tugs on his large wrist to get his attention. “Momma, Papa and the other old people—” Ava shoots their sister a particular scolding look and Ida tries to recover herself. “.... I-I mean e-elders—wanna see you and Newcomer in the big tent where we eat.”

You look over towards Muriel then back to Ava. “Wait…… the elders?…. Are…. Are we in trouble, Ava??”

Ava shrugs and scratches the back of their head, honestly, not really knowing what the deal is. “Elder Evander said to try not to keep them waitin’--.” Ava gently smacks the back of their sister's head to scold them. She apparently wasn’t supposed to say that part. Ida rubs where she was struck and blows a raspberry at Ava and they just sigh irritatedly.

“Sorry…. Take your time, but they are all waiting for you two.” Ava communicates sheepishly, noticing that you aren't fully dressed with your plum colored overshirt and blue skirt.

Muriel huffs slightly grumpily, from Ava’ expression, he could tell what they were saying. “Tell them we’ll be there in a moment.”

Ava nods and opens their hand up for Ida to grab hold. She takes it and they both walk out the door and Muriel closes it so you can get dressed.

Feeling nervous, you try to get dressed quickly, but fearing the worst. “What do you think that they want us for?”

Muriel shrugs, taking off his shirt to fasten his belts to his torso. “Maybe it’s about leaving. They may want us to get going before the snow starts to fall…”

“I doubt that… If we decided to stay, I think they’d be more than overjoyed.” Muriel pauses for a moment, and hides a little smile, he won’t admit it, but you know he agrees. “Uggh….. I hate that we have no idea why they are calling for us…… You know…. I get a feeling like I used to get into trouble a lot…. Maybe that's why I am so anxious.”

Muriel stifles a chuckle sounding a bit too amused. “Why doesn't that surprise me?”

“What does that mean?? I’m a goddamn angel~” You smile fakely innocently and bat your eyelashes.

“Pffttt!!! You’re a goddamn mess is what you are.” He throws his head back and cutely laughs with a large smile. “... Come on. Let’s not make them wait anymore.” He leans down and quickly steals a kiss and it makes you feel a little more calm.

“Well if we are in trouble, at least we're in trouble together.” You say with a smile, throwing your traveling cloak over your shoulders.

You follow your hermit out the tent, through camp and to the gathering tend, trying your best to not feel so anxious about all of this. As the two of you make your way inside the gathering tent, you notice that not only are Una, Gilbert and the other elders that you expected to be there; But Ronin, Tad, Ava, and Shona are also there. They are all sitting in a semi-circle on the blankets and pillows a new feet away from the fire. Una is holding her boy baby in her arms as he sleeps away peacefully.

“Muriel! Rhemi! Madainn mhath!!” Gilbert cheerily greets with a warm hearty chuckle like he normally does. He points to the front of the semi-circle. “Come, come, come! Have a seat!”

You take Muriel’s hand, feeling him starting to get a bit anxious as well and you both take a seat. He hates being front and center of everything. “We…. we aren’t in trouble…. are we?” You warily ask sporting a nervous smile.

Una jolts and sputters at the thought, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh heavens!——No!! We just have something we would like to discuss, that's all! Something good!” She then smiles reassuringly at you. “Sorry if we worried ya!”

You exhale a long relieved sigh and relax your shoulders and lean into Muriel’s side. “Pfffew!! Ohhh!!! Thank goodness…..” You mumble under your breath and Muriel quietly snorts at you.

Gilbert chuckles a little at your apparent relief. “OH! Before I forget…” Gilbert pulls out the journal from his fur cloak. “I read it all, Rhemi. Three times, in fact. It’s fantastic. I couldn’t ask for a better representation of the stories of old and of our history. It was very well written.”

“Thank you…. Can’t take all the credit, though! I had some help from Ava of course..” You nod towards Ava and they blush a little, seemingly at this point out of habit. Gilbert smiles over to his child, their face heats up even more and scowls as if to say, ‘please don’t look at me like that!!!’

He stifles a chuckle, shaking his large shoulders as he sets the journal down next to him and looks back to you and Muriel. “Well, I’m sure you want to know why we asked you both here this morning… We have something to ask of you both….” He pauses for a moment, what you could only guess is for effect. “...Since you two have been here, you have helped in so many ways…. Muriel helped us catch fish, fixed some things here and there, learned to grow plants with Una like your mother did, you even took care of the chickens and other animals during the mornings, you spared my young little warriors cubs to help them better defend themselves. Ha!! You even did patrol a few times when no one asked—you didn’t have to do that. Any of those things… But we greatly appreciate it....” Gilbert then reaches out his hand, gesturing to you and you stiffen. “....Then you, our Newcomer! You helped preserve our history and documented it accurately…. You’ve helped revive an old tradition of the Illuminators, and help my eldest child so they could pursue their dreams of becoming a storyteller. We just can't thank you enough. We are just glad that little cub has someone like you.”

You can feel Muriel’s body start to heat up and his heart pound, but he still holds your hand and doesn't show signs of letting go. Una chuckles softly at Muriel, lifts up her head and starts to speak.“.... Berty and I know you both have plans to get married when you go back to Vesuvia….. My husband, the other elders and myself have been discussing… and we have one more request before you both leave…. Many years ago, we had a tradition called the

Gabhail Ris Ceremony.”

You tilt your head, squinting your eyes thoughtfully. “.... ‘Accept…. it’…. ceremony?” You mutter the translation slightly perplexed.

The old woman that passes out the ale every night barks a quick amused laugh. “... Sometimes words have many meanings in the language of old, little one. Sometimes they can be lost in direct translation…. gabhail ris also means ‘acceptance’.” Her voice is shaky and has age to it, like the little old woman that you make a reumatizam potion for. She’s also very sweet and cute, but rather strong for her old age...

Gilbert nod then continues on after the older woman explains. “...Yes! Many many years ago, when a Kokhurian married someone from outside of our tribe, they would conduct a little ceremony. It was a way the betrothal’s family, mostly the parents, showed their child’s betrothal acceptance into the tribe—Not just as their spouse, but as an individual of the Kokhuri. Traditionally the ceremony was conducted the day or two before the actual wedding, but we know that you two are planning on becoming wed once you're back to your home in the north… we can’t be there when that happens, but… Well…. we wanted to ask if we could at least conduct this ceremony as a sigh of our gratitude—” Gilbert pauses and drops his gaze, a somber expression washes over his usually cheery face as a thought crosses his mind. Una notices his silence, peers over and places her hand on top of Gilbert’s and squeezes it. Her touch seems to snap him out of it. His eyes glance back up and he grins back at his wife and he clears his throat before pressing on. “..... Moonlight and I know we could never replace your parents, Muriel—We would never want to either…. But we care about you like you were one our own cubs….. That day we saw you at Aunt Khamgalai’s hut, well…. it felt like you were a missing piece in our hearts.... now that you're here, it’s like you’ve never left…. ” Muriel doesn’t seem to know what to do with that statement and his face turns a little pink. But you can tell, he feels the same way. “.... We also know that Glenna and Artturi would have loved Rhemi to death. And if they were still here——well…. they would have wanted this….. So…..” Gilbert trails off and peers back to Una, they suddenly place their right hands over their hearts and half bow while still sitting on their knees and Muriel starts to stiffen at the gesture, holding his breath. “..... Una and I want to host a Gabhail Ris ceremony in your parents honor.” Gilbert lifts his head up slightly to look at the two of you. “...That is, if it is alright with you, Muriel… It’s your decision afterall.”

Muriel quietly sits there next to you and flutters his eyes. He is completely baffled by this request. Honestly so are you. As you both sit there you can’t help but think to yourself,….They want to accept…. me? An outsider as their own??..... Muriel finally looks down at you and you both have no idea what to say. He flounders for a moment trying to understand everything. “.... You both want to make Rhemi….. an honorary… Kokhurian?”

Una and Gilbert straighten their torsos back up and she rocks her baby a little, shaking her head. “Rhemi wouldn’t be just honorary, she would be part of us. It’s more like… an adoption so to speak.”

Muriel’s eyes become a bit watery and squeezes your hand tight as he looks at you again for what to say. With one quick soggy eyed smile, he nods to himself and exhales sharply through his nostrils glancing back to Una and Gilbert. “I—…..we—….” He stutters a bit, still shaken at this beautiful gesture and he takes a deep breath. “.... It would be an honor if you accepted my br- br-....” His face quickly becomes red and panicked at that word, and he scowls grumpily at himself, drapes his arm over your shoulder and proudly hugs you in front of the elders. “—R-Rhemi….” He then picks up his eyes and glances back at every elder with such gratitude. “Thank you….. both of you…. I mean all of you...” Your heart feels so fluttery and overjoyed as he utters those words. But then you smile uncontrollably at yourself a bit. Bride…. he was going to call you his bride. He still can’t say those words. Jeez, he’s too cute. Everyone’s faces light up and are so exactic and they all start to speak amongst themselves. Tad and Ronin are giddily huddled together trying not to cry sappily. They did say they loved weddings. Ava looks so happy and has this sweet looking emotion on their face as they look at you and Muriel, almost like a sense of longing. But Shona looks pointedly at her knees, she doesn’t look upset or angry like you expected. Instead she looks like she’s full of regret, she still won’t even look at you or Muriel or anyone else at all. Ava notices and places their hand on her shoulder and pats them comfortingly, but she still shrinks into herself.

Una hands the baby to her husband and takes the small bundle gently and starts to make silly faces at him, and he coos sweetly. Once her hands are free she makes a single clap, making a loud smack getting everyone’s attention once again. “Alrighty then!!! Now— there is one other thing…” The elders stop their chatting and listen to her carefully. “... Traditionally, Muriel’s siblings, usually with femine understands, would be assisting Rhemi to get ready for the ceremony….. However, Muriel doesn’t have any siblings. The other option is that a Kokhurian would volunteer to keep taking her into their care. So we need a person, of age, mind you, married or unmarried that would represent Rhemi. They will act as your Neach-Cùraim, or caregiver and will help you prepare for the ceremony, and teach you what to do.”

With a determined look in their face, Ava makes their way to stand up to volunteer. But suddenly Shona grabs their wrist before they get to their feet. The twin’s eyes meet and she tugs them back down, quickly whispering something in their ear. Ava's jolts and their face becomes rather red and they return to their seat looking complexly embarrassed hanging their head down low. Then, the tent goes dead quiet as Shona stands up to her feet. Everyone stares at her as she takes a large breath before moving her feet toward you and Muriel in front of the semi-circle. She still won't look you in the eye, keeping her gaze glued to the ground, but she suddenly places her right hand over her heart, and bows slightly, making her long braid fall off her shoulder. “... I’ll represent the Newc— I.. I mean….. Rhemi.” Ava and Gilbert’s mouths drop to the floor in utter shock and quickly exchange perplexed looks. Una eyes seem to gleam with pride as her lips sprout into a large smile, just beaming at her daughter.

Muriel’s eyes meet yours and the both of you are mirroring the same astonished expression as Gilbert and Ava. She…. wants to… help...me?... ME?! You flutter your lashes and look back to Shona with your confused big burgundy eyes. Her demeanor has completely flipped, normally incredibly confident, short, and snooty, she’s now very sheepish and humble. It is almost alarming. “You….you want to represent…. me?.... A-A Traveler?” You ask, tilting your head a little bit, not knowing if you are comprehending completely at this moment. Maybe…. is she misunderstanding?

She straightens back up and starts to play with her braid, opening and closing her mouth a few times, seeming to be struggling to form words. “I....I would be honored to represent you, Rhemi.” At last she answers. “...No one is more worthy of becoming a Kokhurian than you….I see that now……. And yes…. I would be happy if you let me…. If... If that's alright with—OOF!!”

Your body moves before you can stop yourself as you quickly stand to your feet and embrace her without a second thought. “I will be happy if you would, Shona.” Her cheeks light up a bright pink and for a moment; her face looks just like Ava’s has in the past; she continues to avert her eyes away from yours and her trunk is a little tense in your arms.

You realize that you may be making her uncomfortable and let go and awkwardly scratch the back of your head and everyone in the tent is rather quiet. Una looks to her husband and nudges with her elbow and he snaps out of the stupor. “Hmmm?—AH, Yes!!! Right, right, right!—Alrighty then!! Shona will be in charge of getting Rhemi ready! Good, good, good! That solves that problem!”

Una practically jumps to her feet, looking so completely thrilled with all of this. “Well, best be off then!! Let’s get you to my tent, eh? This ceremony won’t start itself, now will it??” Una and another woman around her age who is very heavily pregnant stands up and follows her. They then come on each side of you and loop their arms around yours and start to drag you out of the tent.

“Wait— you mean this is gonna happen now?!” Muriel interjects with a bit of alert in his voice, you both were not exactly prepared for this to happen right at this very moment.

Una turns to Muriel but keeps tugging you right along out of the large gathering tent. “Why yes, of course!!! The snow should be a-comin’ any day now! And you both said you wanted to head back north unless you plan on staying all winter here!”

“Wait— w-what’s happening now? Una?! What are we doing?” You mutter as you are being let out of the tent. Just as you turn back around to catch a glimpse of Muriel before exiting the tent, he looks a bit confused and rather uncomfortable making you feel concerned for him. “W-waits gonna happen to Muri while I’m getting ready??”

“Oh, don’t you fret ‘bout him, my dear! Gilbert, Shawn, Ronin, and probably Ava will be with him. They will be helping him get ready and keep him company while we get you all prepared.”

“Oh… wait, it’s morning, how long is this gonna take??”

“Well…. we have to bath you, do your hair, then get you dressed— we also need to get you fitted for a headdress and earring—Ohhh!! I’m so very excited! I haven’t seen one of these since I was a young girl! Glenna had a cousin that got married to a newcomer. Those two were so cute together!”

“.... So this is like a wedding?”

The pregnant woman giggles a little and speaks up. “No—Not quite. It’s more like Una said as an adoption into the tribe…. But in a way it's like a marriage to the tribe. Now don’t you fret, Muriel will be by your side. But we’ll be dressing you in traditional Kokhurian clothing during the ceremony.” You aren't sure what to expect at this point, but now that Muriel and you have agreed, there isn't any going back, so you decide to roll with it.

Ida comes running out of the tent with Inanna, both carrying a bucket of water. “Com’on, Nana!! We gotta fill the tub up in the other tent now!”

You can’t believe your ears for a moment and Ida and Inanna run toward the outside of camp. “... Did she say what I think she said?” You quickly open the entrance of the tent and see a wonderful looking sight of an extra large wooden Kokhurian sized tub. You can feel your left eyebrow slightly twitch. “..... You-... You had a tub this entire time, Una?!”

She chuckles a bit standing at your side. “Of course I do! Can’t bathe in ice water during the winter on this tundra, can we??”

For some reason you feel a little irritated at this discovery. “.... So…. your tellin’ me… I could have had an actual bath this entire time down here??” You ask, trying to hide your frustration.

Her arm drapes over your shoulder and she starts to laugh a bit more as you just stare at the tub with a rather disappointing look on your face. “Well—You should have just asked!” You can’t help but just groan semi painfully remembering how you were forced to use a bucket to wash your hair for the past couple of weeks. All you’ve been doing is dream of a nice tub to soak in. “Ha-Ha! Oh you poor sweet thing! Oi!! Don’t just stare at the damn thing! Get yourself undressed and get it!” Una says patting your shoulder as she leaves the divider.

The tub clearly has some years to it, it’s no royal tub like at Nadia’s palace. But it’s large enough to fit even the tallest Kokhurian, and it’s a sight for sore eyes. The water is steaming and you just can’t wait to get into it. You take your clothes and fold them to the side next to the divider and carefully step into the bath. The hot water feels so nice on your cool skin, you can feel your muscles unwind as you soak into it. It’s large enough that you can get your shoulders down into it. A happy sigh escapes your lips as you relax the back of your head on the side. This is so nice…… nothing can ruin my relaxation….

“Hey—” Shona's voice suddenly calls out to you behind the divider, making your eyes fly open and you shudder a bit. “... NewC—I mean, Rhemi?”

You drop yourself into the water and cover your naked body with your arms and legs….. Spoke to fucking soon….. You lift your chin up slightly so you can be heard and shyly answer. “Ye-yeah?”

“It’s me, Shona… do you mind if I come in? I have some flowers and soaps for the bath.”

“Uhhhhh…. oh??” The thought of her coming in actually makes you feel uneasy. You don’t really show your skin off to people normally. Muriel is the only one who has seen you naked… that is that you know about… But Shona did volunteer to help you after all. It may be incredibly rude if you deny her assistance. Besides….flower petals and soap would be nice. “Ummm…. o-ok I guess….. I’m naked though!”

You hear her snort a little. “Yeah I know you are, that's why I’m asking if I can come in.”

You feel a little stupid stating the obvious and you shrunk into your shoulders. “O-okay. Come in.”

She comes through the divider completely unperturbed by your nakedness. She isn’t wearing her long parka for the first time. Instead she’s wearing a pinkish-plum colored wrap around dress, with orange designs and yellow flowers embroidered on the collar. You’ve seen part of it when she pulled one arm out of her sleeve for the archery game, but you didn’t see the full dress until now. Hiding underneath the thick furs, she is rather stout and fit, but not as thick as you had thought, and she has an excellent and elegant figure.

Feeling rather embarrassed, you keep yourself covered tightly as she makes herself busy preparing the flowers amen soaps. She may not be bothered by your nude presents, but you curl into yourself trying to hide your body, hoping she doesn't think any less of you.

As she turns her attention to you noticing your tightly bounded self, she raises an eyebrow as she sprinkles the flower petals into the hot bath water and softly grins. “Please, don’t be shy, it’s just skin… All of Great Mother’s children have it one way or another.” She then sits next to the tub and places the bottles of soap and shampoos to the side on the floor. “... Kokhurians may hide our bodies under thick furs, but we are not afraid of it. Besides, we're both women.” Thhhhaat really doesn’t mean anything… You quietly snort, thinking to yourself, but you feel a little more comfortable and you unravel yourself. I guess it’s fine if she is with it. She sticks her hand into the water to swirl the petals around a bit and immediately pulls it out, her fingers a bit red. “Ssssshit!—Tha an t-uisge seo uamhasach teth!!” Her eyes finally meet yours and she looks very concerned, then realizes that your skin isn’t at all red or burning. She tilts her head and sneers out of habit. “—How… how are you sitting in that?! It’s scalding hot!”

You smile awkwardly and scratch your neck. “Yeah….. I apparently have a high tolerance to heat…. a very high tolerance...”

She flutters her eyes and her sneer falls making her face soften looking impressed. “.... You are just… full of surprises. Huh?” She grins a little more.

“Yeah…. I’m told that a lot…..” You mutter bashfully. A bit of awkward silence takes over the tent while Shona starts to wash your hair. She really is taking her time and carefully washes your locks. Her longer nails feel very relaxing as she exfoliates your scalp and you start to understand why Muriel loves it so much when you do it for him. He even asks if you’d do it for him from time to time, you never mind either.

“Let this set for a few minutes.” Shoa says while getting comfortable sitting next to the tub, her arms draped over the side.

“Oh ok….” You reply with a half forced smile and you both lapse into very uncomfortable silence once again. You kind of want to start a conversation, but you have no idea how to do that with her… You don’t really know anything about her, other than she likes archery, making clothes, and taking care of her younger siblings.

Before you open your mouth attempting to ask a vague question, she surprisingly breaks the silence. “Can I say something without sounding weird?” She utters, finally glancing briefly into yours eyes.

You grin and shrug, relieved she broke the silence instead of you. “Ummm....Yeah, sure.”

Her eyes verse vertically and she stares uncomfortably down at your naked body as she rests her cheek on her knuckles. “... You have really nice boobs.” —HUH- What?!?! You start a bit when she utters that, but she looks like she’s very sincerely complimenting you. “... They’re a lot bigger than I thought they were. And they have a really great shape.” You shrink a bit into the water feeling a bit embarrassed again. “... I… I’m sorry if that was a bit too personal—”

You shake your head and try to relax. “N-..... No… it’s fine— it’s just—Uuuggghhhh. My friend, her name is Portia… She told me that too when we went shopping for swimwear this summer. It’s actually a really nice thing for someone to say…. but It's just very shocking when someone says it outloud… I never had a sister to tell me otherwise… Or at least I don’t think I did…..’”

Shona just snickers a little and leans her head into her arm resting on the side of the tub. “No wonder my cousin is crazy about you…” Her smile then falls and she averts her eyes toward the divider looking a bit ashamed. “..... Well that and you’re…. really patient….. and kind… and…. a better person that I am…”

Your heart drops when she says that, her tone filled with such regret and pain. “You’re not a bad person, Shona… I get why you didn’t like me. I remind you of someone that hurt you and your sister. And then Ava and I were keeping a secret from you…”

“It… It still doesn't excuse myself. You were right, the other day…. you didn’t hurt me or Ava… All you’ve done is help my family...” She pauses for a moment as she starts to rinse your hair with a bucket. “Here, close your eyes.” You do it obediently and she carefully pours the water on her head making your hair cover your eyes. You shake your soppy wet air and push it back out of your eyes. Once all the shampoo is rinsed out, Shona uses her fingers to comb through your hair to make sure there aren't any tangles, “.... It’s strange…. A Traveler took my sister’s voice. But another one gave them another….. For a long time, I thought I was the death of her happiness. But we just were looking at it from the wrong angle.”

“Ya’ know….” You look at her very kindly as she returns to lean on the side of the tub. “... I never hated you for not liking me, Shona… I'm just glad you're actually speaking to me like this.”

She looks away very ashamed grabbing another bottle of nice scented conditioner and starts to pour some in her palm. “I don’t know how or why you’re…. You're so understanding, I would have punched me in the face by now. I was a real bitch to you…”

You shrug a little, thinking it over. In normal circumstances, you would have done just that now that you think about it. But you never did feel hostility when it came to the twins, especially Shona. “....Maybe it’s because I get how you felt….. I mean…. in a way… People can be awful.” Shona stops washing your hair for a moment and just listens to your words. “....I didn’t like textile merchants for a long time… I made my friend buy me new clothes for over a year.”

“What do you mean?....” She mutters.

“... A few years ago, I woke up and didn’t have any memories…. the person I was living with was my only friend and he took care of me. He taught me how to be a normal person again….. but he would always leave town for awhile and I would be sad… really sad…. This one time when he left, for some reason I decided to go to a tavern… it got late, and this…. this guy I met there offered to walk me home.” You stop for a second, fiddling with a flower petal before you start again, Shona listening intently to every word. “.... I’m not proud of it…. but I was lonely and a bit drunk. He kept complimenting me, made me feel like I was wanted…. So… we started to kiss—this is before Muriel and I really knew each other, by the way….” She nods a little and you continue. “—But then he wanted to take it further, and it…. it just didn’t feel right. When I said no, he suddenly became so angry….. he overpowered me and pinned me against my own shop door.”

A look of horror washes over Shona’s face and she nearly stumbles on her words. “.... What did you…how- how did you— what did you do?”

Thinking back, you snort a little and lightly rub your forehead. “I head-butted the shit out of him and somehow broke his nose—hurt like hell too! Then I threatened him with a spell, but it didn’t work. Luckily Muriel was there and… and he saved me. Since I woke up five years ago he had always looked out for me. I just didn’t know it until just over a year ago. Then we got to know each other more… and… well you get the idea….” You feel your cheeks heat up at the thought.

Shona looks down at her dress for a moment, her hands slightly trembling. “How… How are you ok with…. just talking about it like that? Like it was nothing?”

You sink your shoulders into the warm water and fiddle with another flower petal pondering rather hard about it. “I…. I wasn’t. Not for a long time. I tried to forget that day even happened… but then, somehow the jackass wandered in my shop. He didn’t recognize me at first… he was looking for a sleeping potion but I knew he had other intentions…. Muriel was there again. Good thing too. I may have done more than just hurt the bastard.” You look back over to Shona and she’s just trembling all over, looking so terrified for some reason, tightly gripping her dress. Eerily, you know that look on her face. Very slowly you reach out for her shoulder. “... Shona…?” She jumps at your touch, but doesn’t pull away nor is she disgusted with it. “....Those Highwaymen... You said that Ava was protecting you from them?” Shona eyes become watery like a dam about to burst. “They….. did more than beat you up… didn’t they?”

Tears overwhelm her eyes and she can longer hold them back as they roll down her face. “M-Momma and Papa don't even know. Only Ava does…. Please don’t tell any—”

Bursting your top half out of the tub, without thinking you throw your wet arms around her, unable to stop yourself. “.... It wasn’t your fault what they did, Shona.”

She is a bit shocked at the sudden embrace at first, but doesn’t pull away. “Y-Yes it was. I was the one that insisted on going near the Great Gate…. I— I even flirted with that highwayman—the leader! He posed as a merchant when we were trading…. he-... he saw all that we had. That’s why he and his gang raided our tents!! But…. They’re all dead now... Papa and the other fighters killed them. So why does it hurt so much still?”

“It doesn’t just go away, Shona. It fucking sucks what they did! It was wrong! It’s sickening!” A single tear drips down from your cheek.

“Yeah. It.. It does. I fought them off as much as I could but…. They still…” She shakes her head, unable to say it. But she doesn’t have to, you know. If she doesn’t want to talk about the details, she doesn’t have to.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about it? You’re mother especially? How has she not seen it?”

“I… I don’t know… She asked if anything happened… and I denied it—and why would she want to relive that?”

“... Why would you lie?”

She shakes her head a little, seeming unsure herself. “....I dunno….. They-they almost killed Ava. That was enough for my parents to deal with. I didn’t want to make things worse… Maybe… Maybe I thought if I didn’t talk about it… It would just go away. Like it didn’t happen. As if it was just a bad dream. I… I don’t know. It didn’t seem important.”

You hug her even tighter. “...You’re important too, Shona.”

Shona shakes uncontrollably, but she places her hands over your arms, excepting the comforting embrace. “It’s been so long…. it shouldn’t matter anymore.”

“But it bothers you still. Doesn’t it? That should be reason enough to talk to someone...... Get it off your chest. This is too much to beat. Even for you! You are very strong, all of the Kokhuri are… but you don’t have to be alone with this, Shona.”

“.... How do I even ask for help for something that happened years ago? Besides what can talking do?”

“....It's not just the talking, Shona… it's the listening part too….”

Shona leans into your arms and softly weeps, it seems like she needed to talk about this. A few minutes go by and she finally gets a hold of herself, gently pulling away from your arms. “....Thanks for listening, Rhemi…..”

“Any time....” You lean over the edge of the tub and kindly smile, then see her dress is half soaked now. “I’m sorry I got water all over you.”

She wipes her stray tears away with her forearm. “It’s… It’s fine. Th.. thank you… I.... I really don’t deserve you being so nice to me. Especially the way I treated you since we met.”

You smile a little wider, conjure your magic and wave your hand instantly drying her dress. She glances down in astonishment. You can’t help but be empathetic towards her. “... Yes you do. I knew you had a reason. Just because you disliked me didn’t mean I didn't like you. Believe it or not, I’m bad at talking about things that bother me too. So is Muri.”

She snorts a bit, at last giving a small grin again. “Cousin Muriel- I can see, but... you? You seem so open. You bearly know me and you spoke about a horrific thing that happened to you.”

“Yeah. You would think that, huh?... I think I kept a lot of secrets when I was younger. I don’t really know why I know. But I think I remember that I had to hide a lot. Especially the person who I really was…. But with Muriel. I never feel like that. I can alway be myself… I can be honest with him. And he loves me anyway. But sometimes I forget about that. He made me realize that I needed to be more truthful too.”

Shona just gives you a knowing look and smiles a bit wider. “Cousin Muriel is lucky to have someone like you, Rhemi.”

You shift your legs a little to make sure they don’t go to sleep and mirror her smile. “..Ya’ know…. you can call me ‘Rem’ for short if you like. My friends call me that.”

Shona flutters her eyes and makes a very happy sounding huff out of her mouth. “Thanks, Rem.” At last, you can call Shona your friend. It feels good. Like Ava, she seemed to be secretly lonely, even both of their energy seems to be lighter like a huge weight has been lifted.

Shona stifles a soft giggle as you start to shiver because of your cold wet hair. “I think we need to rinse your hair again, you don’t want to catch a cold.”

You tilt your head and gently close your eyes. “That’s actually a myth—”

Suddenly Keavy comes into the divider with something in her hands. “Oi, Shona! Have you seen—” Quickly you sink even deeper into the tub with a surprised squeak and tightly cover your breasts.

“—Keavy!! Privacy! Ever hear of it?!” Shona snaps looking rather grumpy and stirn again.

Poor Keavy shudders and quickly darts back behind the divider. She also doesn’t have her parka on and is wearing a wrap around dress very similar to Shona’s. “—Ooooh! I am so sorry, Rhemi! I didn’t mean too—…. Wait—Shona?! You're her neach-curaim???”

“Y-yes…” Shona‘s cheeks start to heat up very slightly, but as a matter of fact face washes over her. “.... What about it??”

“N—nothing!!! I-I…. just didn’t think… that…… Know what, n-... nevermind. I guess I’ll come back later.”

“I-It’s just you…. right, Keavy??” You whimper.

“Yeah it's just me. I promise! No one else!”

“You can come in then. B-But I’m naked.”

“Yeah…. I got that part.” She softly chuckles as she comes back behind the divider and you feel a little silly at your obvious statement. “I have the clothes you made for her, Shona. Momma just put the final touches on them.”

You whip your head to look at Shona in astonishment. “Y-You made me a parka??”

She shrugs with a hint of blush on her cheeks. “Well, I can't take all the credit. Momma and a few of the other people helped. Great-Auntie Khamagalai taught Momma how to sew very quickly and she taught me the same. And it’s custom that your new family make you a traditional parka, headdress and earrings. Since you're not getting married I’m afraid it’s not as fancy, we didn’t have as much time to prepare anyways. It was a parka I was already working on.” You look back towards Keavy and she gives you a huge smile and opens up the parka. Suddenly you feel breathless at the sight of it. It’s the same one you saw that she was working on the other day when you peeked into Shona’s tent. It’s so beautiful, she even made it short enough for you to wear. Your eyes suddenly get watery and Shona jolts. “—It really was last minute… I’m sorry if its not to your liking—”

“No! That's not it!…. I…. I love it, Shona. It’s— it's perfect.”

Keavy eyes dart between you and Shona, looking very surprised at how you both are getting along all of a sudden, not really sure what to make of it. Shona notices, then glances over to her sister a little irritation fresh on her face. “What??”

Keavy blinks a few times and shakes her head. “N-… nothing…. It's just good to see you…. look like that, Sis.”

Shona blushes a little more and plays with the end of her braid. “Whatever…. you weirdo. So are you gonna help us or just stand there staring??” She mutters as she stands to her feet.

Keavy looks rather surprised. “You…. you want me to…. to help you?”

Shona sighs, sounding a little annoyed to grab a towel passing by her. “Well you might as well make yourself useful…. right?” She utters grumpily flicking Keavy’s forehead at her older sibling-like as she passes by her. “I’ve still gonna get her the dress I had to make the other day and I still need to finish the earrings and the headdress…. Could you help her rinse her hair?”

Keavy is stunned at her sister's actions, but actually doesn't need to mind at all. A large ginger smile washes over her lips “Yeah!—I’ll be happy to help.” She carefully folds the parka back up and places it on a small stool by the dividers and picks up the small bucket and stands knees over where Shona was sitting before. Keavy seems so happy at this moment. Shawn mentioned that Keavy and her were close at one point when they were younger. He also mentioned that she never let anyone help her either when it came to her duties and took on way more than she needed to. Maybe Keavy hasn’t seen this side of her in a long time. It must feel good to be trusted to help.

Keavy helps you rinse your hair out then hold your hands as you step out of the large tub and blankets you with the towel. Once dry, Shona comes back with the dress she was talking about. It’s not a wrap around dress like theirs, she seemed to have taken another dress and sown it together to make it fit you. Her skills just amaze you, she made it look like it was purposely made that way. As you donn it over your head, it fits perfectly, and hangs off of you very well. Shona and Keavy then lead you out of the divider after you're dressed and you sit next to the fire.

“Awwww!! You look nice in mauve.” Keavy says cupping her cheeks in girlish excitement and Una comes into the tent with her newborn tightly in her arms. Una stops for a second as she sees you and a happy smile takes over her lips. “Look Momma! Oooo I am so excited! I haven't been to one of our weddings before!—Well I guess this isn’t really one. But…. it’s close enough for me! I can't wait to see Cousin’s face when he gets a load of you after we get you all ready~.”

Your cheeks light up, feeling so nervous all of a sudden. “You—You think he’ll like me dressed up?”

Una tuts at your statement and kneels down to your level and gently tilts your chin up. “Of course he will!! You are a very gorgeous girl, Rhemi! I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’d bet ya he would think you're beautiful dressed in a potato sack!”

Shona fetches a comb and starts to brush your hair, patting your shoulder comfortingly. “You’re gonna blow his mind.” She adds while Una stands back to her feet, taking the sleeping baby to a small crib to sleep.

“Thanks… Both of you…” You say with a little happy grin.

Suddenly without any warning, Tad comes bursting into the tent, heaving heavily like he ran as fast as he could from the other side of the camp. “RHEMI!!!” He cries out with such urgency in his voice, making everyone in the tent just jump in shock.

“—YES!! What?! What’s goin’ on??? WHERE’S MURIEL?!” You half shout as your heart drops into your stomach fearing the worst.

He suddenly doubles over completely out of breath. “Wha—?..... Oh! He’s—he’s fine.” He utters exhaustively waving his hand. “Ronin,…. Gilbert,...A….Ava and…. Shawn are…. with him… Pffew—”

“Then what is going on? Spit it out, man!!” Una chims in, looking just as shocked and worried.

Tad huffs out his sentence, but only a single word at a time. “Rhemi,.....Can… Can I… Please….. Do… Your…” He takes in a large inhale attempting to slow down his breathing. “....HAIR!!!!!!”

You flutter your eyes and start to relax and slap your forehead with your palm. What the hell Tad…

To be continued…..

Again, I am so sorry this is late. These last few chapters are gonna be hella fluffy. So, be prepared! Hope you all are staying safe and staying healthy! Mother Llama loves you babies! Enjoy my hot trash!!

#the arcana #muriel fanfic #journey back to the south #madllamamomma #ava of the kokhuri #una of the kokhuri #gilbert of the kokhuri #shona of the kokhuri #ida of the kokhuri #muriel of the kokhuri #part 10~#my hot trash #for my hungry trash pandas #eat up my children #sorry its been so long #i am a terrible person

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avinrydarchive · 5 years ago

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hallow’s eve, saint’s day

Author: AvinRyd Fandom: The Bartimaeus Sequence Rating: G Pairing: Gen Word Count: ~8500 words

When in Prague...

Some lighthearted spooky shenanigans for you this October.

Written for the Bartimaeus Fic Exchange 2020. Check out the collection on AO3 to see everyone else’s awesome fics!

Read on AO3

Chapter 1: Somewhere: Sometime

22,643

“...”

“Hello, glad to see you’re awake.”

“Um, hello. Where am I? How long was I...asleep?”

“Well, twenty-two thousand, six hundred and forty three spirits have passed by since you arrived, so I’d assume about five days on the mortal plane? Hard to say exactly, but I’ve had a while to put a model together. “As to where you are? Stuck.”

“Stuck?”

“Stuck. I have many theories as to where and how, but the fact is that we’re stuck here between the two dimensions known to my people—and yours, I’m assuming, since you came from the same direction I did.”

“Oh…

“You said you’ve been here for a while? Is it permanent, then? This being stuck?”

“In theory? No. I believe it’s possible for us to leave, should the right situation arise. However, in practice? I’ve yet to see a situation that would afford an exit so...it might be permanent, yes.”

“...”

“How long have you been here?”

“I lost count a few centuries ago.”

1,962,573

“Hey, the gates haven’t done that before.”

“Oh, that usually means someone on the mortal plane came up with something interesting. What… Oh. That’s very interesting. I wonder…”

“What? No. No, stop—whatever you’re ‘wondering’ it’s a bad idea.”

“Hmmm, doubtful.”

4,747,821

“...”

“Finally! That was way too long, don’t do it again.”

“How long?”

“Thirty thousand, six hundred and fifty seven. I didn’t think you were going to form back up that time.”

“I was so close though. It closed just a fraction of a second too soon. Next time—”

“Next time?! Did you hear how long I said you were gone? You’re going to get yourself dispelled at this rate, and there’s no guarantee it’ll work!”

“It will.”

“Oh, so when I say stuff like that, it’s arrogant, but when you do it’s just fact?”

“It’s not arrogance when my previous hypotheses have all been correct. It’s based off the same knowledge, there’s every chance I’m right. I know I’m right. I—

“Wait, there’s another one.”

“Ah, no. Hold on—”

“I’m going to do it. This time for sure.”

“Wait! What if it doesn’t work? What if it does? Will you— That is, I’ll be…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll work out the method, then come back for you. I promise, my friend.”

“Friends? Is that what we are? I—wait, no!”

“...”

“I didn’t even ask his name…”

Chapter 2: Prague: Hallow's Eve

“—so there’s no need to worry about it. Piper and Harold can badger me all they want, send all the nastily worded imp messages they like—it’s not like I’ll run out of 'fuck,no's. I’ve got an unlimited supply.” Kitty sighed and shifted, trying to ease the ache in her back without smudging chalk lines. Sitting on the hardwood floor was murder on her over-taxed body, sending sharp spikes of discomfort up the curve of her spine and into her creaking hip joints, but this circle was so fragile she didn’t dare risk throwing a chair into the mix. The ringing at the base of her skull wasn’t terribly comfortable either, but it was a side effect of this spell they’d been unable to mitigate. Over the slight resonance, Bartimaeus’s voice replied, “Alright, alright. And since you’ve left Bruges they’ll probably have a time finding you for a while, at least. How’s Prague?” “Beautiful. Old. Rainy. A bit spooky, but I suppose that’s to be expected.” The laugh ringing through their connection wasn’t just one voice, but many. That was the interesting thing about this; she was speaking to Bartimaeus, but he was only separated from the Other Place just enough to exist as “Bartimaeus”—the rest of the Other Place was nearly an equal part of their conversation, which had taken some getting used to. “See, that’s the appropriate response. Certain modern magicians I’ve known—particularly young, bratty, British ones—have no appreciation for the old magic that city is steeped in. And speaking of magical detritus from a thousand failed spells, you did bring your instruments with you when you left Belgium, right? This is the longest we’ve ever had the portal open, and—” Kitty sighed again, much put-upon. “Yes, Bartimaeus. I have them and they’re set up and everything is stable. There was a tiny spike a few minutes ago, but everything is normal otherwise. I left Bruges to get away from the hovering protective people, you know. Please don’t you start being one now.” Bartimaeus scoffed, but the humming presence behind him was at least half on Kitty’s side, she was sure. “Fine, far be it from me to care about silly humans doing insane experimental magic with minimal education. I place full faith in your absolute knowledge and will immediately cease worrying that the portal will explode in your face and leave a Kitty-sized crater in one of the oldest standing magical cities of the mortal realm. I wash my metaphorical hands of it.” It was Kitty’s turn to laugh, bright and clear in a way it’d taken years for her to get to. “You do that. Anything in particular I should know about the city: places I should go, things to avoid?” “Eh, just keep your wits.” Kitty got a strong, almost visual impression that, had Bartimaeus been in a material form, he’d be looking on with an unimpressed twist to his mouth. This was such a weird spell. “If you’ve got that aura-viewing skill on tap still, keep a sharp eye out. Avoid any bridges without auras—they’re most likely falling apart internally. And costumed men with ‘distinctive’ candles!” “O-o-okay? That’s highly specific, should I be concerned?” The suggestion of a shrug and his words came through crackled with interference. “Not really, he was just a bit creepy by human standards, and that candle… Not a thing for polite company. Thought you’d prefer to steer clear of anyone similar. Don’t go to graveyards tonight, either.” The ringing at the back of Kitty’s mind was escalating to a high whine and she reached up to massage the base of her skull. One of the glass phials outside the circle, sealed and full of swirling gas, was starting to pulse with a faint glow. “Alright Bartimaeus, we’ve got to stop. The spell’s starting to break up. I’ll try again after I’ve spoken with the print master, okay?” “Good, this was probably too much strain on you anyway. Have fun bullying old men into changing books!” The djinni’s voice sounded further away than before, and before Kitty could reply, the connection snapped off. There was a sharp pop and a flash of sparks in the air above her as the spell collapsed—another issue to work on. She’d love to reach out to Button for ideas on a fix, but that would invite more pleas to return to London and Kitty was so, so tired of those. Government was not for her, not even a little bit. Even her drive for activism had waned, though she suspected it was simply burnout—and as Bartimaeus and Jakob and everyone else had said, this was some well deserved burnout indeed. Standing up was a process for Kitty these days: gingerly uncross legs; wait for the shriek of pain to stop; get knees under herself with careful movements; press up using stiff wrists to stand with popping knees; roll slowly upright, feeling every sore vertebrate slot into place. Painkillers. She had a couple left from the drugstore in Burges, right? She hoped so. She was far too tired to be exploring the city for a drugstore—or an apothecary? Who knew what this place had. Her travel bag lay on the bed, flap sagging open to reveal her essentials. The white plastic of a drugstore bottle peeked out from under the sweater Mrs. Hyrnek had made for her, and she’d just reached for it when— “Did you know that, when a djinni is dismissed, the gates between our world and the Other Place are open for precisely eight-point-five-two seconds?” Kitty whipped around. The room was empty; the disembodied—familiar?—voice already just an echo bouncing off the window panes. Light from streetlamps flickered strangely through wavy glass and water droplets. Somewhere, thunder rolled. “Second—” There it was again, but there was nothing to see, no matter how hard Kitty looked. “—and you must know some of this, having visited the Other Place yourself—but did you know that a human soul is, pardon the pun, in essence the same composition as any spirit? Though with a deep affinity for the earth element that other spirits abhor. And that, if sufficiently stimulated and accustomed to the act, a soul can exit the body—voluntarily or not—and bridge the worlds; even following another spirit on its way away from our earthly plane?” The voice was familiar, and yet...not. Kitty could swear she’d never heard this person speak—a boy with an absolutely unfamiliar accent. And yet? And yet, in her mind she heard an echo… What do you presume…? “And thirdly: did you know that your absolutely ingenious bit of spellwork holds the Elemental Gates open longer and with more stability than any spell used in the last two thousand years? And that, if a spirit were somehow stuck in a crevice of those gates, your spell provides an opportunity for escape not given in those same two thousand years?" The voice came from behind her now, and this time Kitty turned slowly—mindful of the crick in her neck her last turn had caused, and also not near as fearful. She knew now that there was nothing to fear from this voice. On her bed—or rather, floating slightly above it—sat a teenage boy, visible at last. Yellow lamp light and the watery orange glow of the street lights did not bring up warm highlights on his dark skin as they should have. He was nearly transparent and so washed out the ends of his curly hair faded out of sight. Seemingly unbothered by this, he grinned up at her, flush with the satisfaction of solving a millenia-old conundrum and shining with an emotion Kitty suspected might be gratitude. Cautiously, she returned the smile and—in a very steady voice, thank you very much—quipped, "Ptolemy. Are you aware you're floating three inches above the bedspread?"

Chapter 3: Prague: Hallow's Eve

“Ptolemy. Are you aware you’re floating three inches above the bedspread?” Ptolemy’s face twisted. “Am I? Irritating. Rekyt made this material form business look so much easier than it is.” “Well,” Kitty said reasonably, moving to sit on the bed as well, “he has had quite a bit more time to practice. And human souls aren’t terribly used to having to keep themselves in a form, are they?” Brows drawn in concentration, Ptolemy drifted downwards about an inch and muttered a distracted, “I suppose so,” before managing to drop the remaining space. Now he was flush with the worn bed quilt, but didn’t make so much as a wrinkle in the fabric. Kitty watched in fascination as, with experimental movements, Ptolemy brought his hand to the bedspread, then pushed it into the bedspread, then waved it in and out a few times. In a sudden flash of mischievous inspiration, she grabbed the drugstore bottle she’d reached for earlier and turned to Ptolemy, lobbing the rattling object with a quip of “Catch!” The boy’s reflexes were not quick—even in the best of circumstances he would have ended up bonked in the nose—but it didn’t matter. The bottle phased through his fingertips, then through his face and chest to land with a clatter on the pillows behind him. Kitty met his unamused stare with a grin, absolutely unrepentant. “Had to check. Scientific method and all that.” Still looking a bit miffed, Ptolemy pulled his foot up to “rest” on the bed and wrapped his arms around the bent-up knee. “If you hadn’t built that spell, I’d be tempted to say you’re the least scientific person I’ve ever known.” Kitty rolled her eyes and leaned back to reach around Ptolemy for the bottle she’d thrown—her joints really did ache after that long conversation’s worth of sitting on the floor. Pulling herself back upright after the extension wasn’t exactly painless either, but she was very sure it would be rude to reach through her visitor to grab something, especially since she’d been the one to throw it through him in the first place. Deftly, she twisted open the puzzle cap and tapped two tablets into her hand before closing it and trading it for a waterbottle in her travel bag. When she’d done, she met Ptolemy’s interested stare with grin. “You’ve only just met me, but you are pretty close to the truth. I didn’t do much with the technicalities of inventing that spell. It was my idea, and I know how it works and how to monitor it, of course, but the construction was a collaboration between Bartimaeus and two magicians I know back in London. They did most of the actual science.” The water tasted strongly of mineral and metal, filled at the last petrol station her bus had stopped at, but it wasn’t awful and got the job done. The moment also gave her time to consider how the hell to move on from here. There was a boy dead more than two thousand years sitting in her boarding room, and she had no idea how he’d gotten there. He seemed to have minimal purpose other than just...arriving—not indicating he had any message or any particular reason for not being able to move on. If his opening remarks were to be believed, he was back on the mortal plane because of a magical glitch in the system. He’d gotten sucked away before death had fully taken hold. Her musings were interrupted by Ptolemy moving, reaching to pull a book from her bag, then huffing when his fingers slipped right through the corner. “This is not going to work,” he muttered, focus completely on the stubbornly stationary book. He made two more swipes at it before giving up that approach and staring intently at it instead. Nothing happened and he flopped back dramatically to stare at the ceiling, hair falling right through the bed. “This is not at all workable. Kitty, I think I need your help.” “I don’t know why. You seemed to be doing quite well on your own.” “Are you always like this?” Kitty snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “Pretty much. Why do you think Bartimaeus likes me so much?” A moment of contemplation, then: “That does make an unfortunate amount of sense. Still, I really would appreciate a moment of sincerity, this is a matter of utmost importance.” “Utmost importance, huh?” Kitty laid back on the bed with a groan. “What’s that, then?” Ptolemy’s face was solemn as he looked over at her. “There’s someone else who’s stuck, and I promised I’d get them out.” “They can’t just...fall through? Same as you did?” Ptolemy snorted a laugh, serious moment broken. “They could, but they won’t. Too unsure of the results. If we’d had physical forms, I’m pretty sure they would have tackled me to keep me from doing something this reckless.” A day’s hard travel and spellwork dragged Kitty’s eyelids down—an inexorable pull. She hummed in exhausted consideration, then said through a yawn, “I don’t suppose a normal summoning would do the trick, would it?” Her jaw cracked mid-yawn, nearly drowning Ptolemy’s reply of, “Probably not…” Then, “I sense we may need to continue this conversation in the morning?” “Mmhm…” She’d given up the fight to keep her eyes open. “Well then.” His laugh was softer, almost fond. “Until the morning, Kitty.” She tugged her feed up onto the bed and shifted a bit, trying to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy mattress. “G’night, Ptolemy.” Kitty’s last thought before slumber was a deep confusion as to if this was not all just some elaborate dream, caused by magical backlash-induced unconsciousness. Quietly, she hoped not.

Chapter 4: Prague: Saint's Day

Early morning sunlight cutting across her eyes pulled Kitty to consciousness. She’d forgotten to close the curtain before going to bed. Odd. She was usually quite conscientious about that—woe betide wherever woke her up too early, up to and including the sun itself. Still, last night had been quite strange, hadn’t it? Her fuzzy brain struggled to remember. Movement in the room drew her gaze. A boy, crouched next to the circle she’d forgotten to clean up. Habit moved her mouth before her brain caught up; she mumbled, “Bartimaeus, we don’t do magic science early in the morning, remember?” His face turned, familiar in shape but not in expression, and everything clicked back into place. Ptolemy looked rather bemused. “Does Rekyt take my form often? Or are you just so unused to any company other than his?” Oh. Right. “...both.” Kitty scrubbed at her eyes and pushed messy bedhead from her face as she sat up, the last night’s events reordering themselves in her mind. Two thousand years’ death seemed to have little effect on the boy sitting on the dusty floor of her sleepy, second-floor boarding room in the middle of Prague. He looked at her expectantly, fingers sketching circles on the floor and making no trace in the scuffed dust. With a groan, she flopped back onto the bed. Ptolemy’s intent gaze was still trained on her, she could feel it, but her too-tired brain wasn’t up to meeting it and thinking through the morning’s problems at the same time. She stared at the cracked plaster ceiling for long moments before sighing heavily. “Alright then. We’ve got your business of ‘utmost importance’ to get to, right?” An affirmative sound, so she continued. “Well, I’ve got some business of importance to get to today as well. You’ve obviously been awake, thinking about this. What do you want to do?” A glance over at Ptolemy proved Kitty’s suspicions—the boy was practically shaking with the effort of not simply spilling all the plans he’d made overnight. Ghosts, apparently, didn’t sleep. She quirked an eyebrow and he immediately began: “We need to summon Rekyt. You said he helped design this circle, and I want to use it as the basis for mine, but I don’t understand a good third of how it’s build. Magic has moved on and—oh, but Kitty this is fascinating, I never could have dreamed—” He stopped, catching Kitty’s second raised eyebrow and pulling himself back on track. “Right. Between us and Rekyt and some intensive research, I think I can put together a spell that will do the trick. So. First: Rekyt; second: library.” Pushing upright once more, Kitty shook her head. “Other way around. Library first, Bartimaeus second.” She continued ahead before he could interrupt. “A summoning, a real one like that? That isn’t a small undertaking for me. I’ll be knackered for the rest of the day afterwards so—unless you figured out how to conduct an entire summoning while insubstantial last night?—we’ll go to the library and printers’ first, then come back with your research and summon Bartimaeus. Agreed?” Ptolemy studied her closely, quietly, and she felt a blush threatening to flood her cheeks. Ridiculous, really. He’d barely been able to stand after his trip to the Other Place; she had no business being embarrassed by her trip’s cost of physical stamina in front of him. A long, long staredown later, he nodded. “Agreed.” Good. She stretched and swung her legs off the bed to stand at last. There was a washroom just down the hall, communal for the boarders but Kitty was the only guest at present. She was glad of it—sharing washing up space with strangers was not something she wanted on top of everything else. After digging out her toothbrush, she turned to Ptolemy. “Stay here. We don’t know if anyone can see you yet. I’ll be back in a second.” Ptolemy looked just the slightest bit abashed. “Actually, I do know. A little after midnight I may have...taken a stroll? No one else can see me, or hear me.” “Oh. Well then. That’s good to know. I’ll...still be back in a second.” And she stepped briskly into the hall.

***

Ten minutes later—longer than her usual habit but hell if she didn’t need a good five minutes of overwhelmed solitude—Kitty returned to her room to find Ptolemy floating cross-legged a foot off the bedspread, exactly level with the windowsill so he could look out. At the creak of the door, he didn’t turn so much as roll backwards, ending upside down with curls falling to and fading through the bed. Inane as it was, she couldn’t help but grin. Bartimaeus held such a reverence for the memory of his old friend; Kitty wondered if that was the source of his gravitas in the guise, or if the new freedom of insubstantial spirithood was breathing new mischief into an otherwise solemn boy. The grin stayed as she moved to pack up her travel sack once more. She saw the grey chill outside the window around Ptolemy’s inverted form and tugged her jumper from the side of the bag where it’d gotten jammed. It was grey-blue wool and knitted by Jakob’s mother—a gift. She saw Ptolemy’s eyes catch on the textured fabric as she finished tugging it on and offered her arm. “Have you figured out how to touch things yet?” He shook his head but reached out anyway. As expected, his fingers swiped right through it. Less expected was the world-wringing sensation of his fingertips passing through her wrist. Early on in their experiments with the communication spell, Kitty had directly touched their “spectral conduit” to the Other Place, as Mr. Button had called it. Before Bartimaeus had snatched her back, she’d felt her self, her essence, tenuously bound to her body at the best of times, begin to be siphoned out and up and away. It felt like that, except in reverse. Connection was made and into the vacuum of her not-quite-full body flowed another gust of person. She felt him for a moment, entranced and inexorably drawn to the lure of earthen control once again before she was able to batten down all hatches and shove the presence away. With a jerk, Kitty yanked her arm back. She could feel her eyes popped wide in panic as she stared at Ptolemy, who was also wide-eyed but in fascinated joy. “Kitty,” he breathed, wonder under his words, “Kitty, let me try that again. That. It was… I could have— we could have—” “No!” Her voice was too loud in the quiet room and Ptolemy flinched. “What? Why? I just want to try it. If we were a bit more careful, I might be able to—” “You might be able to do quite a lot! And you won’t be trying, thank you very much.” His brows furrowed in consternation. “Alright, then. I can try it with someone else, I suppose. I wonder if you need their true name to—” “No, Ptolemy.” She didn’t yell that time—her voice was as flat and cold as London pavement. She cut off Ptolemy’s next attempt at speech with a harsh, chopping motion of her hand. “No. That is an invasion of self no commoner can even attempt to consent to, even if you did ask, which it sounds like you weren’t going to do.” Hideous silhouettes danced behind her eyes, though she tried to push them back. Glowing, demonic eyes in the faces of helpless puppets that haunted her nightmares. Breathe. She just had to breathe through it, just like she did all the other times. Through sheer force of will, her heart rate slowed down to something resembling healthy and she was able to bring her vision back into focus. Ptolemy was staring at her—very human, but also not quite. She forced down a shudder. “Come on. We’re going to the library. I’ll explain why you can never, ever do that, but I’ve only got it in me to do it once, so you’ll have to hear it along with the master printer.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just turned, snatched up her satchel, and headed out the door, closing and locking it behind her. Ptolemy was a ghost, he’d be able to follow just fine. He did. She couldn’t hear him coming behind her, but she now had a disturbingly unerring sense of his location that she hadn’t possessed a moment ago. Possessed. With a shudder, she rubbed the skin of her wrist under the jumper, trying to scrub off the sensation even as she mentally tracked Ptolemy’s progress behind her back. They went in silence like that—Kitty walking at a brisk pace with Ptolemy trailing behind—for nearly ten minutes of winding through dreary streets. Kitty had a map, and directions from the proprietor of the boarding house, which she trusted more. Concentrating on the confusing tangle of twists and turns busied her nervous mind into calm—calm enough that when Ptolemy cleared his throat, her quiet “hmm?” was genuinely amicable once more. “Where is this?” His voice was soft, awed. “I know I’ve...been gone a while, but I’m fairly sure this not Alexandria.” Kitty snorted and replied, “Prague,” before snapping her mouth shut. The street wasn’t busy by any means, but there were still people about who might look sideways at the out-of-place British girl talking to thin air. Quickly, she stepped from the sidewalk to stand under the awning of a cafe. The map made crisp sounds as she unfolded it and brought it up to her face, hiding the movement of her lips as she whispered, “We’re north of Alexandria, by a lot. Across the sea, past Rome, up where we call Eastern Europe, now. I’ll find you a map when we get to the library, yeah? For now, I can’t be talking to myself all the way across the district.” “Right.” He agreed with a quick nod, already distracted by the pastries displayed in the cafe window. Rolling her eyes, Kitty folded the map once more and headed off. The grey above threatened more rain and she quickened her pace. It wasn’t a short walk to the Holy Roman Archive and she’d rather not have to make the last third of the trek getting dripped on. Ptolemy was at her side now, gasping and exclaiming every other second at some new thing he’d glimpsed, and she had to actively suppress a wide smile. Grinning inanely at nothing wasn’t a look she wanted to project either. As they began to emerge from Old Town’s winding alleys, though, the city’s mood began to pick up and match Ptolemy’s joy. They stepped onto the larger, more toured streets around the great Charles Bridge, where tourists and business people alike made their way on foot regardless of the weather. Ahead, the bridge’s towers loomed and, just off to the left, Kitty saw the large buildings of the Klementinum. She made straight for it. The tourist traffic was, thankfully, a bit dimmed by the unpleasant weather and it was only another few minutes walk through ornate, baroque halls and courtyards blanketed in autumn-hued ivy before they reached the Holy Roman Archive. Home of what was left of Prague’s magical lore, it was also adjacent to the most influential of the Czech Publishing Guild’s members: Petřín Printers. They handled all of the magical texts to come out of Prague; all of the magical knowledge of Eastern Europe flowed through this print house and into the Archive. Kitty stepped past the enticing hush of the Archive, hoping Ptolemy would follow since she couldn’t physically drag him like she was afraid might be necessary. A glance to the side showed the boy’s feet were indeed dragging, eyes gazing with longing at the doors. “Soon. We’ll go there next.” He followed with an insubstantial sigh. “Yes, alright.” Kitty blinked. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud. It was so quiet in these halls, anyone could hear. The lobby of Petřín’s was unassumingly quiet, but Kitty wasn’t fooled. The walls hummed with the aura of a spell, most likely a silencing charm to keep the workings of the printers from disturbing the immediately nearby library. At a desk just inside, a man sat scribbling in a ledger with a fountain pen but he looked up at Kitty’s approach. His cheerful greeting was in Czech—thankfully one of the phrases she’d picked up staying with Jakob and his family. She replied in kind, following up with a somewhat abashed, “English? That was about all the Czech I know.” The man laughed and nodded. “How can I help you?” “I need to speak with Mr. Pavel Vlastislav? I’m here on rather urgent magician’s business, as well as with a delivery from Karel Hyrnek, of Hyrnek and Sons. I think he sent word ahead that I was coming?” “Hmmm, let me take a look.” The clerk flipped through his ledger, then ducked behind his desk to grab another book. As he did, Kitty looked around and saw Ptolemy studying a world map to the left, artistically rendered and nearly as large as the wall it was painted on. She couldn’t see his face, but she had an idea as to what it might look like, and what he was going to sound like in three…two...one… Right on cue, as the clerk popped back up into view, Ptolemy’s voice flooded into her ear as if he were standing right next to her and not ten feet away. “Kitty. Kitty this is— Is this the whole world? The entire globe? Have people truly been to all of these places?” The clerk was chatting at her as he flipped through his notes with Kitty nodding along distractedly, trying to pay attention as Ptolemy continued, “—and this map! It’s nearly as good as the cartographers of Alexandria’s work! Rekyt described many of these places to me, but they were not all in places I could plot on an available map… You said we’re in...Europe? To the east—oh! Yes, this must be it! You’re right, we are much, much further north. I wonder—” “Ptolemy! A minute? I need to focus,” was what Kitty thought to herself in a moment of irritation, mouth clamped tight over the words, but the boy stopped rambling immediately. “Ah, my apologies.” Well, that was fun. Maybe that mishap back at the room had been good for something after all? It was the only thing she could think of that might have caused such a strange phenomenon… Distracted, she had to once again refocus on what the clerk, Radim, was saying. Frankly, she’d missed what he’d last said, but then he was standing and ushering her through a door on the right and chattering about the privilege of being able to see inside the prestigious print house and Kitty was tuning him right back out. She was here on business, not to see the inner workings of yet another magical publishing shop. This was her third one in the past year; they all sort of looked the same at this point. Pavel was in his office when they arrived, Radim knocking a quick rap on the doorway before entering. The man inside stood, head still tilted towards a jet black sparrow perched on his shoulder—the imp’s presence explained ease with which he greeted her, a heavily accented but cheerful “Ms. Jones!” before Radim even had time to speak. He and Radim had a quick exchange in Czech too fast to catch, then Radim stepped out and Pavel gestured her to enter. “Come in, come in, Ms. Jones. You have news and a package from old Karel in London, hm? Please, sit down and tell me why he needs send such a lovely lady friend, rather than this news in the post.” Kitty swallowed. This was the hardest part, always the hardest part, and she’d already done it twice. Out of her bag she pulled a plain book, bound in brown cloth and printed on scrap: a manuscript printed by Mr. Hyrnek. There was also a pamphlet. Assuming today went well and Pavel accepted her request, she would need write her friends back in London and request him to send her another copy before she left Prague. Hands shaking, she set the book on Pavel’s desk and took a deep breath. Ptolemy perched on the edge of the desk, invisible to Pavel and watching her intently. Another deep breath, trying to dislodge the shaking behind her breastbone. Her trimmed down, bare bones narrative of the London Disaster was practically recited by rote now. Only by keeping it clipped, clinical, and precise was she able to get through the worst of the story without stuttering, but she’d told the story before and she’d tell it now. Unfortunately, the shuddering terror of the hybrids needed to be the focus of the tale—that’s why she was here. Magicians, the humans who practiced the enslavement of spirits, needed to know what happened from a first-hand source, told with compassion and urgency, or they would simply take the whole incident as either fairytale, or use it as a way to further demonize both the British Empire and the spirits themselves. If this came out wrong, the enslavement of spirits would worsen, not move closer to eradication. When she’d finished, wrapping up with a quick note of the Interim Council’s formalization of an integrated Parliament and the supposed plans for the country, both members of her audience were silent. Staring. This was a normal reaction, she’d gotten it from the print masters in both Paris and Madrid, and she didn’t blame them or Pavel. It was a lot to hear. It’d been a lot more to live through. Eventually, Pavel spoke. “That is...a harrowing tale. We’d heard of some horror from across the channel when the empire broke two years ago, but to think…” He swallowed. “Yes, this needs to be recorded. I assume this manuscript is the account?” Kitty nodded. “Yes, originally published by Hyrnek and Sons, but we all agreed that something like this should be shared. If nothing else, please, we request you bring this to the Archivist and have it included in the archive. If you are willing to print and distribute it, that is for the best, but I understand—” “I will, of course, do my best to ensure it is placed in the archives. And we will see what can be done about distribution.” Reaching out—just missing Ptolemy, who jumped away before his arm could be brushed—Pavel picked up the pamphlet. “And this?” “A list of the spirits who perished in the disaster, to update the newest editions.” And maybe a few others, but who was to know? Pavel flipped through it and Kitty stood, scooping up her satchel once more. Alarmed, Pavel stood as well. “Ms. Jones! Surely you don’t mean to leave so soon?” Exhaustion weighed her voice, two haunted years dogging her steps. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vlastislav, but I need to be going. I’ll leave the address I’m staying at with Radim and I’ll be in town for a few weeks. Find me there if you need anything.” That was the nice thing about her situation—after all the horrors and all the insanity and quite literally visiting another plane of existence, social niceties were near the bottom of her priority list. With a parting nod, she let herself out of the office without another word. Ptolemy was silent as she retraced their steps back to the lobby, still silent as she left her contact information with Radim, silent all the way until they’d reached the Archive once more. He didn’t suggest a book to start with, so Kitty made her way to one of the study tables and pulled another book from her satchel, rather than any of the shelves. Delicate pages with scorched edges crinkled as she turned them, scanning the handwritten translations in the margins. She’d been offered a fresh copy of Ptolemy’s Apocrypha with an English translation printed in, but Button’s book was special, and translating it with Bartimaeus’s help was a good memory. Credit to his perturbation, when Ptolemy finally spoke it wasn’t about the book she held. “I’m sorry. What happened… I can’t imagine. I didn’t realize the kind of trauma what I did would cause you.” “You couldn’t have,” Kitty replied diffidently, blithe tone slicking her thoughts to icy smoothness. “Like I said, it’s something no commoner would be able to understand, and most magicians too. The only ones who could come close are those of us who were there, and even then… The one who would best understand the bond you were trying to attempt is— Well, he’s dead.” Silence again, then: “And you? Would that make you the closest living authority?” “Actually, no.” She was able to look up and smile. “That would be Bartimaeus, so let’s hit the books and then you can ask him yourself, yeah?”

Chapter 5: Somewhere: Sometime

4,752,256

Dread emptiness pressed in around him. Is this how his friend had felt, all those years alone? When the spirits passed—back and forth and back and forth—he could sense their movement, know their passing, but there was no sound to hear, no sight to see. Even this place he was stuck, a place he felt should have something of substance to perceive was just...nothing. To stave back the madness, he began to study the passing spirits with whatever senses were available to him. Thousands upon thousands passed before his examination, and on every few he focused his attention. Going one way, they seemed to mournfully coalesce from liquid freedom into a speeding, aerodynamic form to rocket through the other side of the gate; coming the other, solid misery flared and flittered out in joyous reaching for the far bank. Nowhere did the strange, fluid channel appear again. Only cold, clinical, slippery-walled openings to pull the beings to and from. He’d reached out to one once, only to find himself sliding off, lacking whatever was needed to be included in the transference. Probably for the best. Once the temporary madness left him, his logic reasserting itself over the crushing loneliness, he drew away from the traffic in fear. To be loosed in the fearful current without anchor or guide? No, he couldn’t… Or at least he thought that. And thought that. And thought that until he came to the point—singular and horrifying—that he could. His watching took on a new edge: analytical, searching. Time barely existed here, but some amount of it had passed before something caught his attention. Another direct stretch, calling for a specific being, but something about it was...softer. It was inviting but wary, familiar but fearful, like a stranger singing a long-buried song from childhood. Carefully, not flinging himself with abandon like someone had, he approached. It was tenuous, as all of these were—temporal and not meant to last long, unlike the fluid path they’d seen before—and this one was even more ephemeral than most. Holes in the weave, it could have been described. From one end, movement came, barrelling closer and closer and...familiar. Yes, the being speeding down was definitely a construction of substance he recognized but couldn’t put a name to. Names were hard here. Names were hard, but suddenly decisions were not. As the spirit sped past, he impressed some effort upon the pulling force, imposing himself on the construct until he fell through in a flurry of movement that he could suddenly feel, not just perceive in an abstract sort of way. He could feel it and he still felt it as he tumbled through. The portal did exactly as all the others did. He felt himself being compacted and compressed, separate from the being it was actually meant for thankfully, as he’d hopped in a good moment past it, but the bonds were ill-fitting. A familiar word that wasn’t his word. And so, when both he and the other tumbled out the other side, he felt himself spinning and drifting, formless and dazed as his traveling partner took form in a circle.

Chapter 6: Prague: Saint's Day

In a brilliant bit of foresight, the first thing Kitty asked Bartimaeus to do once he’d arrived was cast a nexus about her room to silence all noise coming from within. A good move, as her explanation of the situation first garnered her a bemused “what?” Followed by some silence. Then some contemplation of the figure who was making a concentrated effort to appear on the mortal plane to more than just Kitty. Then followed by a roar of the same word that had come before. There was a lot of yelling for a short time. Possibly some crying as well, not that Kitty would ever tell. But when it was done, and all explained and settled and understood, she might have asked Bartimaeus to remove the nexus. Absentmindedly, she forgot. This turned out to be a good thing as, five hours later, both she and Bartimaeus stared at Ptolemy over their sketches of runes, figures, and half-circle diagrams in consternation. Together, their query was definitely loud enough to have been heard by the good matron downstairs. “You don’t have their name?! ” Kitty groaned and set her pencil aside. They’d been at this for hours, and only now did Ptolemy mention he was lacking this key piece of their puzzle? Bartimaeus looked just as crestfallen in his guise of a young, dark skinned man, wearing a traditional desert kilt and bedecked with a necklace of amethyst, but also not terribly surprised. “Ptolemy, my friend. I always knew your disinclination for names would come back to bite us in inconvenient places. Admittedly, this is the furthest situation from what I could have imagined, but still.” The ghostly boy in question was not meeting either of their gazes. He was staring at the bedspread he sat on, stunned silent. Then quietly, obviously not in reaction to what either of them had said, he breathed a word Kitty had never heard in her life. Bartimaeus, however, choked on his non-existent spit, indicating that it was probably something foul. After a few more moments of unintelligible invective that had Bartimaeus’s jaw on the floor, Ptolemy muttered, “I can’t believe I forgot. We were there for what must have been years, how did I not ask? I promised. I’m a magician, I know how important names are. How could I have forgotten?” Kitty winced. They had maybe been a bit harsh. “It’s alright, I’m sure we can figure something out…” Ptolemy stood up and began to pace, making circuit after circuit of the tiny room. Amusingly, every time he turned a corner, he also stepped upwards about an inch, beginning to spiral upwards as he muttered to himself. Kitty glanced over at Bartimaeus, who shrugged, leaned over and whispered, “Don’t look at me, this is new. He didn’t used to pace.” “Hmm…” A ghost pacing was a strange phenomenon in that you couldn’t hear them, the fact that they were pacing of above your head at this point notwithstanding. It was painfully quiet. Kitty and Bartimaeus went back to fiddling with their designs, pencil and quill scratching loudly in the silence, but still working around a glaringly blank space where, in all of them, a name had to be placed. “I need a calendar!” Ptolemy’s voice, loud in the room, had Kitty jumping nearly a foot out of her chair. He was suddenly right next to her, face intent and determined. “I had a formula, I just need to do the calculations and we can figure out when my friend arrived. From there— Well, only a few specific circumstances could cause this, so maybe someone will have heard about it happening?” “Well, it’s somewhere to start…” Bartimaeus hedged, and Kitty agreed with the hesitant tone. How on earth were they going to sus out a single death of magical happenstance, even if they could narrow it down to an exact date? Kitty caught Ptolemy’s gaze again. There was a light, one she felt mirrored in her own past. Hope. And hell if she could ignore that. She’d wrestled demons, ransacked governments, and crossed dimensions for a hope like that, and well—Ptolemy had been the source of a lot of that hopeful vision. It was the least she could do to try and help him in turn. As Ptolemy still hadn’t managed enough substance to actually touch anything, Kitty was the one to walk to her duffel and dig out yet another book. She was becoming quite the librarian herself, these days. This one was worn, thick, full of cramped handwriting with a ribbon bookmark between the last few pages. Returning to the small table, she set it down. “Not a calendar, but close. My journal goes back two years, almost. Think your friend showed up in about that timeframe?” Ptolemy nodded firmly. “It couldn’t have been longer than that. Now, let me just…” He trailed off, fingers tracing invisible numbers on the table. With his brows drawn together in a focused frown, Kitty thought privately that he’d never looked less like Bartimaeus’s replication. Similarly, the fond expression Bartimaeus watched him with was a brand new thing to see on the spirit’s face, and something warmed in her. For the span of about an hour, a long time ago, Kitty had cared about a djinni and a boy more than anyone else in her probably-about-to-end life. This wasn’t the same, couldn’t ever be the same, but she liked it anyway. Across the table, Ptolemy was now rattling off numbers to Bartimaeus, who flipped through the journal pages—first in large swaths, then fewer and fewer at a time. Closer and closer to the front cover until— “That’s the end of it.” Both of them were staring down at the first entry on the first page of Kitty’s journal—a date, five words, and a tiny shard of glass taped to the paper. Bartimaeus continued, “How much further back?” “Two days.” Kitty looked at them blankly. They both looked back—Ptolemy glowing with the triumph of a puzzle solved, Bartimaeus with...something. Probably the same something building somewhere in the pit of Kitty’s stomach. “There’s no way,” she managed eventually, voice hoarse, throat suddenly dust dry. Bartimaeus’s reply was just a nervous chuckle while Ptolemy glanced between them, his high fading into confusion. “What’s the matter?” It took Kitty two tries to clear the lump from her throat. “Erm, well. You remember what I said about the only person who would understand possession by a spirit being dead? And what Bartimaeus said about the Glass Palace?” “Yes?” “That all happened two days before my first journal entry. I didn’t think to start recording events until— I was a right mess, basically, until then.” Understanding dawned on Ptolemy’s face and brought a smile to his face. The smile grew, bit by bit as he looked between his two friends. “Well then, shall we try? It’s our best guess, and the worst that will happen is it doesn’t work.” They both watched as he breezed over to where Kitty and Bartimaeus had left their sketches. A moment of careful study, then he pointed to Bartimaeus’s page—the djinni smirked at Kitty, who stuck out her tongue. “This one. Let’s try this one.” He bounced on his toes, each bounce taking him higher into the air. “Come on! I still can’t hold the chalk, help me draw this!” So they did. The dingy, dusty boarding room was a flurry of activity for long minutes. Bartimaeus did most of the kneeling and drawing while Kitty held the string guides and lit the few candles they needed for the spell. Ptolemy supervised, directing them in drawing a half-circle diagram. Lines stretched out from it in rays, similar to Kitty’s communication spell, but with a few slight adjustments. More geometric than ornate, the completed spell was chalked innocuously on the floor as Bartimaeus scratched out the last few runes. At the apex of the arch, a blank space had been left. Almost reverently they all knelt, Bartimaeus handing Kitty the chalk as she regarded the bare patch of floorboards before bringing the chalk down. Her handwriting was nowhere near as calligraphic as Bartimaeus’s—her chicken scratch legible but not beautiful as she spelled the name out: Nathaniel Chalk still in hand, she traced under the letters with a finger, the spell still cold and not yet activated. Together, Ptolemy and Bartimaeus reached out as well—and then another transparent finger traced along the top of the word. Glancing up, her gaze met with blue eyes, happy and calm in a way she’d never seen them while he was alive. “That’s what it was. I guess I just needed someone to write it down before I could form up properly. Took your time about it, didn’t you?” Surprise jerked her hand and brought her in contact with all three of the other beings in the room. Her vision spun and everything was very mixed up for a very confusing moment. Kitty was, for seconds or hours, not just Kitty anymore. Four souls rushed around and around in a feedback loop, bringing nausea to a body that wasn’t even really hers to experience it. It was like being back in the Other Place. Actually, it felt exactly like that, and the similarities echoed through their loop loud enough to bring the chaos to a balance. Carefully, they all extracted themselves from the morass—all but Nathaniel at least understanding the mechanics of the feat—and another moment brought Kitty solitude in her mind once more. She had fallen onto her backside, legs twisted awkwardly, and three beings of unearthly substance lay sprawled nearby. On seeing their mess, pushed up on her elbows, a giggle bubbled up from her throat. Then another, and another, until she couldn’t hold them back and collapsed onto the dusty floor, laughing until their was no more breath in her body. Around her, Ptolemy joined in first, then Nathaniel, then Bartimaeus, until they were all cackling like maniacs for long minutes. Good thing the silencing nexus is still still up, Kitty thought faintly, which sent her and her friends off into more gales of laughter. They laughed until all their surprised energy had been spent in joy. Jittery adrenaline rush settled to a wondrous warmth in Kitty’s chest as she looked at her friends. There was no telling what they would need to do now. But as far as she was concerned, it didn’t matter. They were together, no one was dead in the traditional sense of the word, and the world hadn’t tried to end for two whole years. She didn’t get sappy often, but today seemed like the day to try—the most pleasant Hallows Eve and Saints’ Day she’d ever experienced, by far.

#the bartimaeus trilogy #the bartimaeus sequence #bartseq #bartimaeus #bartimaeus trilogy #kitty jones #ptolemy #Nathaniel Underwood #fics of ryd

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withthekeyisking-writer · 5 years ago

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What's your fav fic that you wrote yourself?

This is such a challenging question! Like asking which of my children is my favorite 😂 I could definitely tell you a few of my least favorite though lol, no prob. Some of my older stuff—oof.

Alright, so since I really can’t pick a singular fav (I currently have 101 posted works, that’s just not gonna happen) how about I give a top 10? Not exactly what you asked, but eh life is like that 😁

So, in no particular order, my top ten fav fics that I’ve written:

1. Starting with the one that’s a large presence in my mind, (No) Places of Safety. This fic is my baby right now, shaping up to be one of the biggest things I’ve ever written (already at 69k and not even close to done) which is super amazing, because I usually have a problem with sticking to things after a while. I really love the way I’ve handled Dick’s deteriorating mental state, and I love the fact that I know exactly where it’s going, and have from the very beginning (again, rare for me. Usually things come together as I’m writing, and while that’s still happening, it’s been awesome having an actual solid plan and destination). I love the universe I’ve set up here, and am so excited with every chapter to show you guys what comes next. Hell I love this universe so much that I already have the whole next fic planned out 😋

2. Next I’ll say Three Little Birds Sat On My Window. I loved writing a reverse batfam, and am so proud of the way this fic turned out. I really spent a lot of time trying to get everyone’s voices right, how different they would be considering how different their life experiences would be. Tim and Jason especially were important to get right, with Tim being the one who died instead. I always hated in reverse batfam fics when people just make Tim’s version of Red Hood exactly the same as what Jason was like, because they’re different people and would have different ways of approaching things. So even in just the little glimpses I wrote, I’m really proud of their characterizations, along with that of Damian and Dick! I’m just overall very proud of this fic, and definitely wan to write more of this AU at some point in the future.

3. Third we’ll go with An Active Imagination (and, with it, the sequel Rules of Architecture). Thinking about these fics and working on them ways makes me excited as a writer. Like I don’t really have a lot to say about these, just that I really love the way I handled Dick’s shifting mental state, going back and forth between the brainwashing and having him be not at all aware of what’s going on. I also love how super creepy Slade is lol, how unabashedly awful. Plus writing a BAMF Dick is always a blast, and the Dick in these two fics is especially badass.

4. Next up is Take My Hand Through the Flames, because writing dark!Dick was so fucking fun, and something I need to do again very soon. Dick is so messed up here, so blood-thirsty and masochistic and crazy, which is something that I’ve never been able to truly do when I mainly write Dick. So that plus building an Earth 3 universe (pulling in Joey and Rose and what Dick’s dynamic with Thomas is like) was a blast to do.

5. Hmmm then let’s go with If Night Falls in Your Heart (and am just now realizing how often I use song lyrics and quotes for my titles). Exploring the trauma of what Catalina and Mirage did to Dick was something necessary for me to write, and it helped me work through some of my own shit I was struggling with. (Writing is the best coping mechanism!) Dick desperately needs people to help him and tell him none of that was his fault, and since canon certainly isn’t going to do it, I took it upon myself lol. Plus I’ve become strangely fond Dave the Unimportant Villain 😂

6. Sixth on the list is How Arbitrary Fate Is, an AU I am extremely fond of and seriously need to come back to. Teen Titans (cartoon) ‘verse is always something I enjoy writing, and extending the apprentice arc, playing with Stockholm Syndrome, blending Dick’s loyalty to his friends with his growing loyalty to Slade, how he reaches acceptance that this is his life now—I am so proud of the way this fic turned out. I have an entire sequel planned out in my head, other things have simply taken precedent. I will come back to it, though. Lol I want to scream from the rooftops to get everyone to love this fic as much as I do 😁

7. Now I’ll say A Current of Fate, which is something I go back and forth on loving but it always draws my attention back to it. I hate that I’ve set it aside for so long, I think there’s so much fucking potential in this world I’ve set up, and I really want everyone to see the way it’s playing out in my head!! But for that I’d actually have to keep writing it lol, the horror. Sometime soon (when I have less active projects on my hands) I’ll go back to this fic and edit it a little, update it to how much more confident I’ve become in my writing, especially of DC characters. Also Chapter 4 has been half written for literally a year now and it has Black Mask in it; since beginning that chapter I’ve become far more familiar with Roman (and written a lot of him lol) so reworking that chapter in the main priority, and then I think I can really move forward with this fic. I know exactly what happens, I just have to get there!! (Coincidentally, today is the year anniversary of the last time I updated this.)

8. Leaving the DC fandom, next we’re going with The Source of Grief. My Harry Potter fics have been touch and go, I can admit that, but I’m very proud of this one. I really loved doing the outside POV, everyone observing the actions of Harry and not really knowing who he is or what his motives are. I also got to address all my feelings about Severus Snape, which was awesome. Just, fixing problems and making things better was wonderful to write, and I got to put in some subtle Wolfstar lol, and talk about how Regulus Black doesn’t get enough credit. Idk, I’m kind of rambling, but I’m proud of this fic.

9. Ninth is One of the Legion Lost (plus its sequel Want the Strange and New). They’re both my Fuck You to Infinity War lol (which I liked a lot more than I know most people do, but still it needed some help). Loki is one of my favs, and bringing him into the plot of the movie and adjusting things from there is the kind of thing I love to do—what are the repercussions if just one thing is different? Also I enjoyed exploring the magic of the infinity stones! There was so much that could be done with them, with their level of sentience that was never really expanded upon, so I liked doing that.

10. Now we have People Who Move the World. A James Bond & Sherlock crossover, where Q and Jim are brothers. I got super far in this fic! 15 chapters and 94k, it’s a real beast. I love how I wrote Q, his relationship with Jim and Bond and Sherlock, and the odd little Q/Mycroft ship that I’ve become strangely fond of considering how strange the ship is lol. Just writing a bunch of absolute geniuses BAMFs ruling the world and making things go the way they want to them. Like, Q and Jim make such an awesome team and I know it’s such a niche fic but I’m really proud of it. Sucks that a majority of the ideas dried up lol, because I’m very pleased with what I created.

+1: Honorable mention! Breathe with Confidence. First time I ever wrote anything in the Star Wars universe, and it’s absolutely something I’m gonna have to come back to. The AU has a lot of potential, and I know exactly how I’d address the future of Dick’s story. Plus some side fics of the family’s reactions to what happened, the confusion over Dick’s disappearance. And in this fic itself I liked writing Slade’s manipulations, Dick’s desires, the small amounts of background I included. Idk, I just think this world is super cool.

Well, I hope you enjoyed reading this long drawn out thing! Probably more info than you were looking for 😁😅

#anon ask #ask #fanfic question #fanfic

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hypsterlicious · 6 years ago

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Ticklish (F!Byleth X Claude Von Riegan)

So I came across a headcanon on Tumblr that sparked this cute little story I whipped up. I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

While enjoying a meal with some of your Golden Deer students at the extravagant monastery known as Garreg Mach, you thought about the events that got you here. Never in your days living as a mercenary did you ever dream of becoming a professor, much less to pupils that were roughly your age, yet here you were nonetheless. However, another event that was unexpected was the fact that you've been able to grow quite fond of the Golden Deer class along with some of the other students. Although you've never felt relatively close to anyone other than your father Jeralt, it was slowly but surely progressing into something that you rather enjoyed. Unbeknownst to you, a pair of emerald eyes belonging to the Leader of the Golden Deer class were focused on you instead of the lively conversation the others were having.

"Hey, Teach?" Realizing that you were lost in your own thoughts, you turned to Claude while giving him your undivided attention. "Is everything alright?" You gave him a reassuring nod, trying to relay the message that you were in fact fine without using your words. Although you taught the Golden Deer class and you've been getting a little more comfortable with them, you've never been much of a talker or one who was easy to show much emotion. They've noticed this, especially one in particular who no matter how hard he tried just could not figure you out. Ever since the two of you met, he's been building up more mysteries and questions in his head that no one seemed to be able to answer confidently, not even yourself. To be honest, it frustrated him to no end. However, for now there was nothing that he could do about it except try with every fiber of his being not to pry when it came to his professor. Claude quickly flashed you a confident smile, relieved that nothing too heavy was weighing on your mind at the moment while here at the monastery. "That's good to hear. If there's anything that's troubling you, just remember that the Golden Deer are here for you." Somehow as if by some form of magic, a wave of relief came across you when he said that. And also somehow during the most inadequate of times, Sothis took it upon herself to make her opinions known by pointing out your relief by his statement.

"Oh, my. What a strange feeling. You seem to be quite taken by this young man, are you not?" Seemingly annoyed by her invasive comment, your eyes darted to nothing as if you were attempting to glare at the voice in your head. This look would surprise anyone, especially the Leader of your class who was trying his damnedest to figure you out with every glance you gave. That was when a burst of laughter from across the table took you both out of your conversation, and directed your attention to the source which was from Hilda and Ignatz.

"Hilda, please! Your tickling is too much! I-I can't take it!" Hilda giggled to herself, knowing that Ignatz was ticklish made him that much more susceptible to tease.

"Ha ha! Okay okay, I'll let up for now. Oh, hey Professor! Are you ticklish?" Honestly, you weren't sure if you were ticklish or what that even meant. So you just replied to her saying that you didn't know. "What?! You mean you've never been tickled before? Just what on Earth has Jeralt been teaching you?" Claude attempting to get you out of a possibly uncomfortable situation chimed in, reminding Hilda of your upbringing so that she would stop pestering their professor on such an unnecessary topic.

"Oh come on, Hilda. Tickling isn't exactly the most useful thing to know on the battlefield. Besides, does Jeralt seem like the type of person to explain to someone what tickling means? Something like that shouldn't matter." Although Hilda did understand where Claude was coming from, her curiosity just wouldn't leave her alone.

"But now that I've asked, I just can't help not knowing! Hey, I have an idea! Professor, why don't we try it out?" Igantz stuttered with his response, feeling nervous about the idea that Hilda had proposed.

"W-what?! Hilda, y-you can't! S-surely someone will see us out here in the dining hall! What if we get into trouble?" Claude gave Hilda a sly smirk, attempting yet again to coax Hilda into dropping the subject by feeding off of Ignatz's statement.

"Although I am curious to see it myself, Ignatz is right. Isn't it a little inappropriate to be tickling a professor?" Hilda's unwavering charisma gave a strong argument while practically coercing you into going along with her little experiment.

"Oh please! It's not like tickling is some painful procedure. And besides, if the professor is ok with it than what's the harm? Right, teach?" Claude felt the sting of Hilda using his nickname for you against him. But she did put up a fair argument, and now all you needed to do was agree to it. Much to everyone's surprise you nodded in agreement, curious yourself if you happened to be 'ticklish' or not. Without any time to prepare yourself, Hilda leaned over the table to reach you in a shockingly swift motion and started tickling you. Although you were startled at first, there was no initial reaction from you at all while Hilda attempted tickling you in in multiple places to entice even a small chuckle. "Aw, man! I tried everywhere I could think of! You're just no fun professor!" You were confused as to why it didn't work on you and it showed. It worked so well on Ignatz, it made you wonder if there was something wrong with you. Claude noticed the struggle within your mind and talked the whole ordeal down, hoping to ease your mind about it all.

"Ah, it's ok Teach. Some people just aren't ticklish. It's nothing to be ashamed of." The events from earlier refused to leave your mind and instead left a heavy feeling in your chest. You were unaware of how much the situation affected you and it did not go unnoticed. Sothis felt how upset it made you and even attempted several times to cheer you up, but to no avail. While walking the halls of the Monastery, an unsuspecting Seteth was talking to one of the knights of Serios when an idea hatched from Sothis.

"Hmmm, although you may not be ticklish yourself, does that mean you cannot tickle others? It seemed easily achievable from that pink haired delinquent in your class. And I believe I see the perfect target." You caught on to what Sothis was suggesting and thought cautiously before making your move. Sneaking up on him would be the easy part, but how does one tickle? Once you sorted out the plan in your head, you were able to sneak up on the currently occupied Seteth as he was wrapping up his conversation with the knight completely unnoticed. Going straight for his ribs, you tickled your unsuspecting victim only to be met with a very different reaction. He seemed to jump to the heavens as he let out a cry of fear instead of joy since you attempted to tickle him when he had not detected your presence. Although Sothis may have been a little too amused by the outcome, Seteth was seething with a mixture of rage and confusion.

"What insolence! Have you no shame?! Remember that you are a professor and not a simple child during your time here! Tch, the nerve!..." Trotting off in a tizzy, it seemed all you had managed to do was make Seteth angry. Maybe this tickling business was a little harder than you had initially thought. Making your way to the Captain's Quarters, you thought maybe you should attempt this tickling experiment on your father, Jeralt. The two of you shared a bond that was much stronger than that of Seteth, so you made the assumption that maybe even if you didn't succeed, he wouldn't be angry with you. However, before you could get close enough to him, your father noticed you immediately.

"Oh, hey. Huh? What are you doing?" Too embarrassed to fess up, you scurried off to avoid explaining to your father that you just couldn't get this tickling thing down. Alas, you'd spent almost the entirety of your day off and you hadn't tickled a single person. Feeling the crushing blow of defeat, you walked with your head hung low into the library when the clashing colors of black and yellow caught your eye. It was none other than the house leader himself, Claude. However, his back was turned and his full attention was focused on the book in his hand. Looking around, you noticed that it was only the two of you in the library. You were having second thoughts on the idea when an all too familiar voice in your head interrupted your thoughts.

"Come now, what are you waiting for?! The timing could not be more perfect, yet you do not act? I swear, I will never understand your kind at all..." Sothis was right; If you were going to do it, now was the perfect opportunity. Pushing your second thoughts to the side, you inched closer and closer to your target until you were close enough behind him to strike. As if a sixth sense had finally kicked in, Claude turned to see you right before you advanced.

"Teach?" The tickling commenced, and Claude lost all control while falling to the floor in laughter from the sensation. "Hahahahaha! Okay, okay teach! You caught me! Now please! Hahahaha! I-I can't breathe!" He attempted to regain his composure, wiping the tears out of his eyes from the immense amount of laughter that you caused and graciously congratulated you. "Whew, you got me good teach! But how did you figure out that I was ticklish?" He paused for a few moments in awe of what he saw when he looked up at you. You wore an expression that usually shined on someone who had made a huge achievement with eyes that gleamed as well as a smile so bright with innocence, it made his heart skip a beat. The temperature within him began to rise rapidly, making it hard for him to catch his breath and his cheeks start to heat up. This sensation that he felt towards you, what was it? And how on Earth was it that you seemed to have caught him so off guard? Your simple, yet joyful reaction pulled him back into reality when you exclaimed your emotion in excitement.

"I did it, I tickled someone." Claude only chuckled to himself, releasing the breath he didn't even realize he was holding through his nose in a snuff when he smiled up at you. He still knew so little about you, but he was glad that he was the one that got to see this side of you and learn a little more.

"Yeah, You did."

The End

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #three houses #claude #claude von riegan #female byleth #fanfiction #one shot #hilda #ignatz #jeralt #seteth #sothis

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starlightinhumanform · 6 years ago

Text

The Art of Love: Chapter 6

Fandom: She Ra (2018)

Ship: Glimadora

Summary: As the night continues to grow later, Glimmer is shocked by her own feelings. Thankfully, Adora is there for her.

Warnings (for this chapter): Descriptions of Internalized Homophobia, Panic Attack, Mild Language (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff

A/N: This part gets pretty angsty but I promise it gets real fluffy (there’s only one bed) I hope you enjoy despite the angst!! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 The Art of Love Masterpost Fic Masterpost Fic Request Info

Glimmer worked in silence, the only sounds were the soft rsssh her paint brush made as she swished it over clay. It was strange; just the way you can tell someone has walked in a room despite not hearing or seeing them, Glimmer could feel Adora’s presence in the room regardless of how quiet she was. And it wasn’t only quiet as in not speaking, it was as if the entirety of Adora’s being had had the volume turned down it. Glimmer was used to Adora’s energy filling all of the room as Glimmer just attempted to hunker beneath it. Now though, Adora’s presence was small, ebbing and flowing in minuscule tides as her chest rose and fell gently. So it was like Glimmer could feel Adora in the the room, but it was wrong, it was too small. It reminded Glimmer of just how human Adora was.

Only that afternoon Glimmer had been convinced Adora was a snake and a liar and the last thing Glimmer wanted to be near to. Now, she seemed a lot smaller, a lot more delicate, and a lot more authentic. The last few hours had been somewhere between a miracle and a disaster, but nowhere near normal. Glimmer almost felt the need to protect Adora as she sat there in a daze in the first silence she had had since Adora’s text.

That didn’t mean Glimmer liked the opportunity to think that the quiet was giving her; in fact, she was actively attempting not to. However strong her desire to avoid thought was, though, her mind’s insistent little voice was stronger. And it was suggesting things she didn’t liked.

You like her, don’t you? You think she’s pretty? You want too kiss her?

The paint brush rsssh-ed harder against the clay. No, no, and no.

Well that’s good because she would never like you back.

An involuntary sigh escaped out of Glimmer’s nose as her eyes bore pits into her carpet. Will you just leave me alone??

Oh I thought you said you didn’t care about her?

I said I didn’t like her, not that I didn’t care about her.

She risked a glance in Adora’s direction. Glimmer couldn’t deny the fact that she was beginning to care about her. If all that gentleness and sweet attitude was real, Adora was bound to get hurt or at least have one hell of a life. But then again, maybe she already did; Glimmer couldn’t help but wonder about Adora’s past and why she would have adoptive parents. Adora was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and then there was something about a question mark... Glimmer didn’t know the quote and honestly didn’t really care, but the truth held: there was a lot about this girl that Glimmer didn’t know.

As she watched, Adora shifted slightly so her hair fell forward and tangled in her eyelashes; Glimmer could practically feel her hand itching to brush it out of face. She scooted over to the sleeping form, not even thinking about her actions as she moved. Adora was directly below her now, curled but with her arms sticking out in front of her; it reminded Glimmer of a puppy. The golden strands of hair were tantalizing, seemingly crying out for Glimmer’s hand to tuck it behind the girl’s ear. It just looked so soft. Glimmer was, of course, most familiar with her own hair which was thick and wavy; she loved it but... Adora’s hair looked like silk and something in Glimmer wanted to become familiar with that too. Glimmer quickly reminded herself that she was only doing this because messy things bugged her and she would want to fix someone’s hair whether it was soft or not. Well in that case...

Resolved that she was only doing this because the out of place strands were bothering her, Glimmer reached forward, her hand once again shaking. It was surreal, watching herself reach out to Adora’s face, so close she could feel the girl’s breath fluttering on her hand. But the hair was so soft, softer than Glimmer could have ever imagined and she let herself play with it- couldn’t help it- the pieces of silk trailing between her fingers, wrapped up in them. And Adora’s face- just wow. Glimmer had never been this close, never really let herself appreciate it- that is, until now.

She was pale (Glimmer had known that much) with a soft blush and a sprinkling of freckles dusting her cheeks and nose. Her skin wasn’t perfect- she had acne like any teen- but it looked satiny as well. Adora’s eyelashes were long but that was probably helped by the mascara rubbing off on the bags under her eyes. Once again Glimmer wondered about how tired Adora was, how hard she pushed herself.

Glimmer couldn’t tear her eyes away, soaking in Adora like she was the first human she had ever seen. Her eyes glazed over as she stared downwards, lost in the thoughts that crashed against the sides of her head like waves that thundered and broke against a storm wall in an ocean marina. It hurt; her mind on the point of bursting, overfilled with ideas that warred against each other. She was jealous of Adora’s somehow unfailing beauty, of how much people loved her, of how the sun shone in the room when she walked in while Glimmer was treated as an unwanted inconvenience. There was disgust- disgust over Adora, over her popularity; a minute part of her convinced that all of this was one huge joke being played at her expense. Disgust washed over her once again, this time directed at herself for letting her guard down, falling for the joke, falling for Adora. God, there it is. Because it was true- mixed in with all these feelings was admiration, appreciation- for Adora’s eyes and her smile and her attitude and the way she sang and the way made Glimmer feel like she was floating away and she wanted to find more reasons, add to the list, everyday if she could. You could call it infatuation. Again, guilt and repulse came flowing against her. She shouldn’t like Adora, couldn’t; it was bad enough that she had to like girls, had to ostracize herself from the rest of the school- hell maybe the rest of the world- but this? Liking someone she had absolutely no chance with? She was just setting herself for rejection and another strong dose of humiliation.

In amongst her tumbling thoughts, the fact that Adora’s hair was still wrapped through her fingers had been forgotten. Glimmer had continued to absentmindedly run the strands through her fingers, the light, silky feeling in her hand grounding in a way she didn’t exactly understand. While most of Glimmer’s mind was occupied with confusion and confrontation, a tiny part had (literally) grabbed hold of Adora and was hanging on for dear life; she had tethered herself to the girl that was causing her so much pain.

As her mind became more agitated and convoluted, all her emotions one big tangle, she became less and less aware of Adora, her hands lost their careful gentleness. At one point, her hand had been completely disconnected from her thoughts and it gave a sharp tug that caused Adora to stir, her eyes flickering open.

The blue was still mostly covered by eyelids and glazed; Adora was squinting like she couldn’t tell what was going on. She glanced up, “Glimmer?”

Glimmer’s heart swelled against her will at the sleepy murmur and she tucked the hair she had been so fond of behind Adora’s ear- taking great care this time to be gentle, “No, it’s just a dream. Go back to sleep.”

Adora seemed to be following the whispered order, curling even tighter as she turned fully on her side. Glimmer reached behind her, grabbing a stray blanket, and draped it over Adora.

“Is too bad,” Glimmer had to lean forward to hear what Adora was muttering into the floor.

“What?” Her face was so close to Adora’s and she was being intoxicated by those sweet, earthy scents again.

“Is too bad it a dream.”

“Hmmm, I beg to differ,” And with that she bent to close the remaining few inches between them, placing her lips softly, but with solid pressure against the skin of Adora’s forehead.

Adora hummed happily and seemed to settle back into sleep; Glimmer stayed with her lips pressed to Adora for a few moments until her breathing was slow and regular.

And then it was over and Glimmer was sitting bolt upright and everything in her room was spinning and all of her thoughts- even the positive ones- were screaming. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT??

Adora snuggled into the blanket thrown over her while Glimmer stumbled backwards, praying Adora didn’t remember the thing when she woke up. Glimmer’s heart was pounding as if she had just stepped off a roller coaster. This project was all kinds of hell that she hadn’t been expecting. There was a part of her that wished they could just go back to being strangers; well, maybe not strangers but very tense acquaintances. At least then Glimmer knew what she was doing- she might not have had control of the situation, but she had control over her body. Now, everything was spinning out her grasp like a shipwreck falling to the bottom of the ocean- and she was sinking along with it.

She glanced over at Adora and winced, remembering her actions as if they held the same guilt and regret she would have if she had murdered someone. Whatever the case, she had certainly doomed herself. There was no more hiding or blocking or disregarding how she felt, nothing to maintain the safe buffer she had created between her and Adora.

That didn’t stop her from trying, however. Thoughts raced through her head, each trying to beat the other to reaching a plausible excuse. It’s probably just the adrenaline- And your tired- And you’ve had a lot going on- You’re so so stressed- Besides, that could have just been like, friendly, right?- You weren’t thinking, and it was just a spur of the moment sorta gesture of appreciation or something like that.

Glimmer rolled her eyes at herself this time. You’ve had a crush on her all year so you might as well admit it.

She groaned and buried her head in her hands; if she was going to come clean to herself then she might as well do it wholeheartedly. It was true, the stupid stolen glances in Adora’s direction, the fascination with Adora’s glowing smile, her jealousy towards Cat for always having Adora’s attention. She had hidden it under all the contempt for Adora- and herself, her feelings- and now it was all rushing out, unable to stop the feelings when they were hitting her so quickly after so long. Stupid stupid stupid. If she had only been able to hold it at bay for a few more days, she could’ve just moved on from it all and ignored Adora for the rest of her life.

Once more, Glimmer wished she could reverse time to the way it had been before; it had been so much easier.

Adora chose this moment to stretch, startling Glimmer into backing fully into her dresser. As she hit the furniture, it hit the wall with a thunk that rattled the objects sitting on top of it and was sure to wake Adora. With Glimmer’s good (read: horrible) luck, she was surprised to find Adora still sleeping soundly after all the rattling had stopped.

Glimmer hated looking at the girl, cringing like it burned her, but she couldn’t look away. One of girl’s hands was curled loosely in a fist by her face and the other invisible beneath the blanket. Her hair had come completely undone and spread around her head, fanning out like an angel’s halo. Glimmer couldn’t tell if she wanted to stare at her forever or never see her again. Adora was gorgeous and Glimmer hated her for it.

Glimmer walked stiffly back to where she had been sitting before and made a silent promise to herself to pretend nothing ever happened; if Adora mentioned anything, she would deny it and call her crazy- easy peasy.

But the room was quite, void of noise except for the soft murmurs of Adora’s breath, and it left far too much room for Glimmer’s thoughts to fill the empty space. And, oh boy, were they loud, loud enough for it to feel like ten thousand little mini-Glimmers were yelling as they sprinted through her mind, their little purple sneakers slamming around and making her head pound.

The hopeful ones were the worst; the ones that whispered how happy Adora had seemed about the whole stupid kiss, about how she seemed to like Glimmer, and asked her to dance, and how Glimmer had made her laugh, and she was just so awed by Glimmer’s art. And and and and. Her mind kept coming up with teases Glimmer knew would be hopeless and ridiculous in the long run, but no matter how hard she tried to combat them with logic, they would pop up again like weeds in a garden.

Glimmer found herself throwing down her paint brush, not knowing how to deal with everything rushing through her head at once like cars going way above the speed limit on a highway, bound to crash. She pulled her legs up to her chest, taking the form of a ball and hoping it could keep her safe from the words pounding against the walls of her skull. Of course it did nothing to help and tears began leaking out the side of her eyes. This was like what? The fourth time she’d cried that day? It was ridiculous and exhausting and it was all Adora’s fault. Glimmer glared at the sleeping form whose peaceful rest was completely unaffected by the hurricane sitting only a few feet away. I hate you.

The air in the room was getting hard to breathe, filled with the smell of the forest that Adora carried and the ghost of her voice. The blood was rushing to Glimmer’s face, pounding in her ears. She felt like she was under water, thousands of feet of pressure above her, drowning in her own mind.

Glimmer straightened up and made her way unsteadily to the door; she just needed to get out, to get away from Adora. Her breath was ragged in her throat, every inhale catching like cloth on barbed wire, and she knew she was going to start full on crying, sobbing even, soon. The thought of that made it even harder to hold back.

She made it to the bathroom before the sobs started shuddering out of her, making all her other breakdowns that day look like a drizzle compared to a typhoon. Her hand slammed down on the counter, sending one of her mom’s hair products clattering into the sink. It was loud but she didn’t care, she could hardly hear it anyways. All of the competing thoughts had combined together to create thundering white noise in her head. Glimmer couldn’t hear a single voice rising above the rest, couldn’t feel anything; she was numb except for the growing pressure around her mind. She gripped her the edge of the sink and looked up into her reflection, eyes full of venom and tears.

She shut her eyes as tight as physically possible like she was trying to keep the hot tears from spilling out. The door creaked open behind her but she didn’t care; it did that all the time and she must not have shut it all the way. Glimmer was far too focused on trying to release the weight growing around her brain, like a boa constricting her thoughts from flowing the way she thought they should. She had very specific rules for herself, ones she would thought would keep her safe, keep her under the radar but now... those thoughts were running away from her in every direction. She banged her fist onto the counter once more and the ache in her hand was hardly a distraction. Her emotions were screaming and she wanted to scream back, shouting at them to fall in order.

She didn’t have time to pay attention to a an old door that couldn’t even manage to stay closed by itself; that is until it started speaking, “Hey there.”

Glimmer turned to face Adora with a stare that could have melted sand into glass, “Get out.”

Her voice would make most turn and run but Adora continued, “I heard something fall and it woke me up and you weren’t there but then I heard you-“

“Get OUT!”

Adora just blinked at her, almost uncomprehending, before taking a few steps towards Glimmer slowly and carefully like she was approaching a wild animal. And then her arms were a around Glimmer and Glimmer was forgetting how to breathe. Her body went rigid, her arms clamped to her side and her hands out straight like a wooden soldiers’. She didn’t know what the hell to do; she didn’t even know what she wanted to do. On one hand, she could give in- give into Adora, give into her stupid hug, give into the fact that she’d had a wildly obvious crush on the soccer player this entire time. Alternatively, she could take the easy route and simply push Adora away as she had been.

That’s when Adora apparently decided she wanted to make Glimmer to throw up because she leaned forward far enough to plant a soft kiss on Glimmer’s forehead.

Glimmer’s voice shook when Adora backed away after only a second, “What are you doing?”

Adora’s smile was horribly sweet, “You took care of me before, now I’m just taking care of you.”

Glimmer felt that she was on the verge of collapse; it been a long day, excruciatingly so. She legs and arms were shaking and her head felt light again, but not in any positive way, and she could swear the ringing in her ears was the last of her sanity leaking out of her body. Her mind was losing any traction it had left and her body was following it quickly, “I’m so tired.”

And with that Glimmer allowed herself to melt forward into Adora, tears dampening her red jersey. She had somehow managed curled inward and onto Adora at the same time.

Adora seemed to be handling the situation much better than Glimmer would have, offering comforting shushes and not complaining when Glimmer’s hands gripped the back of her jersey far too tightly. Her hand was rubbing up and down her back but Glimmer was hardly aware of the fact, simply letting go of the tension she had been holding since being assigned as partners with Adora, hell maybe since she had seen Adora in her chemistry class on the first day of school.

“Do you want to rest for a little while? Get some sleep?”

“What?” Glimmer took a hiccuping breath, the flood of tears hand begun to slow and was now coming almost completely to a stop. She looked up and straight into Adora’s blue eyes, filled with concern; she had forgotten how close their faces were to each other but the fact of the matter came crashing back to her with a force that almost knocked the wind out of her.

“I was asking if you wanted to take a break or go to sleep for a while?” Her voice was gentle but their chests were still more or less pressed together and Glimmer could feel the sound vibrating upwards. The clarity of the sound’s movement was startling but Glimmer didn’t move away.

She shook her head, “I need to get this done. If I don’t, our project’ll get marked down and then I’ll never get my chem grade up.”

Adora moved back, supposedly to make eye contact with Glimmer more comfortably, and Glimmer scolded herself for missing the warmth of the other girl’s body. Adora’s eye brows were crinkled and nudged at each other, “But... I told you before, I’ve seen your grades- and I’m so sorry if that sounds weird I really don’t mean it in a creepy way- but, like I said, your grades aren’t as as bad as Weaver makes it seem!”

Glimmer sighed and reached for her back pocket; by some miracle- or maybe a curse- the report card she had snatched off the counter earlier was still there, “You must have only seen my test scores- they’re fine. But my classwork is a disaster. It’s like I get the material and I can show that on tests, but I can never focus enough to do all the stupid busywork Weaver hands out. So my overall grade is... kinda trash.”

She handed the card over to Adora, watching with sweaty palms as she scanned down the row of letters.

She looked up after a moment, confusion written on her face, “How in the world do you have a C in art?! If anything, I’d expect you to have 100 percent!”

Glimmer shrugged her tired shoulders but she felt a smirk tugging its way along her lips, “I tend to interpret the prompts a little more... loosely than my teacher would prefer.”

She shrugged again, this time playfully, “What can I say, I like to have my own ideas about things.”

Adora mirrored her smile, “Yeah I’m sure you do.”

WHAT DID THAT MEAN?!

Adora didn’t go into it further, simply stretching her arms out to the side with a yawn. She handed the card back, “Well you’re right, we need to make sure we do well on this project so we can get that grade up.”

Glimmer’s heart wasn’t sure to plummet or rise; Adora had seen Glimmer’s bad grades and had agreed with her. On the other hand... “we” was starting to sound- maybe not great- but ok in Glimmer’s mind.

“So,” Adora continued oblivious to Glimmer’s revolving door of thoughts, “we- especially you, Miss I Don’t Need Sleep- should get some rest so we don’t make some stupid mistake that wrecks it. I want to do this well.”

Glimmer allowed Adora to lead her back to her room but stopped when she felt herself being pushed towards her bed, “Where are you going to sleep?”

Adora gestured casually at the floor and the blanket she had set aside when she had gotten up to check on Glimmer. The thought of her going out of her way to make sure she was all right made something inside Glimmer wriggle and she wasn’t sure if it was in a good way or a bad way.

She shook her head, “No, you’re the guest. I may be a goblin, but my mother taught me some manners; she’d be horrified if she found out I’d let you sleep on the floor to begin with.”

Adora frowned, “Well I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

Glimmer put her hands on her hips, a small mountain of stubbornness.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea- let’s just share it! It’s a big enough bed for the two of us!” Adora’s face had brightened considerably while Glimmer’s blanched to a sickly shade of green khaki.

“It’ll be fun- like a sleep over!” Adora continued her sales pitch, unaware or uncaring of how wide Glimmer’s eyes had gotten. Is this girl actively trying to drive me crazy??

Before she could make anymore arguments against it, Glimmer found herself being pulled along by Adora who, when having reached the bed, sat down and patted the space beside her.

Glimmer sat down stiffly and glanced over at the other girl, hoping she offer some sort of explanation of what she was supposed to do next.

Adora turned her head, “So do you want to take the wall side or the outside?”

“Uhhh... the wall; that’s where I usually sleep anyways,” Well if she didn’t have a choice...

“Ok great!” Adora stretched out, both of their shoes having been kicked off long before, and the action forced Glimmer to climb over to the other portion of the bed.

Glimmer threw a sheet over top both of their bodies and lay stiffly on her back. After a few moments she realized the lights were still were still on and she clapped her hands lightly to shut them off, careful to do it quietly in case Adora had already passed out again. Her idea was proved wrong when the silhouette next to her let out a little, “Ooo.”

She wasn’t sure if the sound was in response to the fact she had clap-on lights or because of the glow in the dark stars pasted on her ceiling that were now beginning to brighten. Glimmer stared at into their dim, green-yellow light as if they could offer answers. None were supplied.

Next to Glimmer, Adora had relaxed onto her side and in a matter of minutes was breathing heavily once more. The sound was somehow calming, inviting her to do the same, and despite the adrenaline running through her, Glimmer felt her eyelids growing heavier by the second.

——————————————————-

Glimmer had slept nearly an hour when a buzzing in her pocket woke her up and she realized she had gone to sleep in the pair of denim shorts she had worn to school the day before. She pulled the buzzing phone out of her pocket and the glaring blue light of its screen burned through the dark, making her squint. It was Bow, texting her for whatever reason at one in the morning:

Look I am SO sorry about that I know you wouldn’t want me to give your number out and you know I wouldn’t normally do that but Adora was kinda freaking out and she explained the situation to me so it made sense

I understand if you’re mad and I just really hope nothing bad happened

Glimmer looked down at Adora before deciding to reply. The girl was curled in a loose fetal position again, her hands near her face. In their sleep, the two had snuggled closer together and the curve of Adora’s back fit neatly alongside Glimmer’s stomach and hips. The proximity made Glimmer’s insides churn and the blood rush to her face, but she could also feel herself smiling down at Adora through the darkness. Glimmer reached out and tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind Adora’s ear- for the last time, of course- and finally texted back:

Nah it’s ok.

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