#i hereby solemnly swear to never try again

[jam-is-my-food]

never gonna give you up (a scythe astley fic)

when scythe curie was just a junior scythe, the beloved scythe rick astley—the only scythe who was ever allowed to communicate with the thunderhead—self-gleaned. marie will never forget her childhood idol—but he may be closer than she thinks.

takes place mid-thunderhead; spoilers for thunderhead.

word count: 1,295

dedicated to @i-love-side-characters for her incredible 5am drabble. thank you akki. truly a service to humankind.

Takes place in the middle of the scene in Thunderhead where Goddard reveals that he is still kiCkiN' at conclave. This is very crack. And a fix-it fic. I hope you enjoy.

“I wish to nominate Honorable Scythe Robert Goddard for High Blade of MidMerica.”

Silence for a moment … then a few chuckles, but they weren’t derisive. They were nervous.

“Brahms,” said Xenocrates slowly, “in case you’ve forgotten, Scythe Goddard has been dead for over a year now.”

And then the heavy bronze doors of the conclave chamber slowly began to open.

Scythe Curie drew in a sharp breath, willing her heart rate to slow. This was ridiculous, clearly some sort of diversion tactic planned by the new order. To even react in the slightest was preposterous; her body was showing its age, another reminder she needed to turn a corner soon.

But then in strode the incinerated scythe, and Marie knew even the frailest of bodies wasn’t capable of a hallucination so horrible.

Rumors began to trickle through the room. Gasps. Whispers. Cheers. The man who could not be Scythe Goddard moved down the center aisle, gait looser than Marie remembered. The worries of becoming High Blade, of being placed in the position only because of her past actions, slipped suddenly into the furthest thing on Curie’s mind. This was impossible. She was supposed to be watching out for Scythe Nietzsche, and Nietzsche didn’t have the votes. This could not be.

And yet it was. They had entered the worst of all possible worlds.

Entering the chamber in Goddard’s wake was a familiar figure in bright green. Scythe Rand was alive, too? Eyes now looked to the open bronze doors, expecting that Scythes Chomsky and Volta might also return from the dead today, but that was not who next entered the chamber.

No, this was another figure. A figure even more impossible.

In the years before Curie was born, the world was chock-full of turmoil. Although the Thunderhead had revealed itself some time ago, humans were still clinging on to government and power. The scythedom, only in its founding years, was still mistrusted. And black market revivals for those who had been gleaned—a problem all but forgotten to history now—were all the rage.

It had been becoming a bigger and bigger issue, from what Marie knew; the Thunderhead believed it was under the scythedom’s jurisdiction to deal with, while the fledgling scythedom was relying on the Thunderhead to solve it. What was essentially breathing life back into the gleaned single-handedly rendered the entire scythedom useless. And though the Thunderhead was beginning to engineer safe space travel solutions, it needed a backup in case of failure.

So the first (and, to date, only) scythe-Thunderhead ambassador was chosen.

Marie had idolized Scythe Astley throughout her childhood. Apprenticed under Scythe Sappho herself, Astley—whose Patron Historic was a largely-forgotten mortal-age musician—was a man not only of the scythedom and the Thunderhead but of the people. And not in the phony, self-serving way of the current new order, but honestly, genuinely. After helping the Thunderhead and founding scythes engineer a solution to the black-market problem—which, once they’d found a means of communication, was relatively simple; the Thunderhead would shut down all operations and the scythedom glean anyone who dared involve themself—he stayed wildly well-known. The Thunderhead continued to speak to him and only him, and once he self-gleaned refused to choose another ambassador. The scythedom and the Thunderhead would remain separate entities, it declared, this time for good. Nobody could replace Astley, one of the few truly-beloved scythes.

Scythe Curie could remember the day he self-gleaned. It felt tragic, doubly so knowing now that the scythedom had so thoroughly shoved his memory under the rug. Prominent scythes didn’t want anyone new to know conversing with the Thunderhead was anything short of impossible, and somehow he had just been … forgotten.

But Marie remembered him. His love of ice cream. His iconic robe, fashioned to look as though it were a suit. His studded, intricately-designed dark leather dress shoes.

The same shoes that were tapping their way through the conclave chamber now.

It couldn’t be.

“Astley!” Marie breathed, words sticking in her throat. She saw Anastasia shoot her a confused glance, completely unaware as to the identity of this new key player. She’d never told her about Scythe Astley.

Around the room, similar gasps of shock were passing around. Many scythes, however, were like Anastasia; they ignored this new man and focused their attentions back on Goddard—who looked positively furious at being overshadowed. “What is this?” he shouted, a vein in his neck pulsing.

“I might ask you the same thing,” Scythe Astley responded smoothly. He reached his hand into a pocket and pulled out a large pin with his own face on it. Scythe Astley isn’t ghastly! it read in garishly cartoonish print.

And now Goddard’s face had truly paled. “Scythe Astley? But—but you self-gleaned, years ago!”

“Yeah, no I didn’t.” Astley smirked, drawing his fingers through his impeccably styled ginger hair. “Anyway, you’re one to talk.”

The entire scythedom tittered. Xenocrates, having lost all semblance at control in the room, slowly backed away.

“Who’s this?” Anastasia hissed to Curie, and the Granddame of Death saw her moment.

“Everyone!” she shouted, voice commanding. “This man is Honorable Ambassador-Scythe Rick Astley, apprentice to founding scythe Sappho herself. Show him the respect he deserves.”

“Thank you, Scythe Curie,” Astley said, and Marie blushed as though she were a little girl again. He knew her name!

He stood tall, and the entire scythedom—even Goddard—found themselves bending to accommodate him. “It’s true. I, Scythe Rick Astley, did not truly self-glean. I meant it when I said I was never gonna give you up. No, I’ve simply been waiting for the perfect time to rejoin the scythedom—and that time has come today.”

Astley looked around the conclave chamber thoughtfully, before continuing on. “You see, I and I alone have access to the Thunderhead. I am the single exception to the schism between organizations. With me and the Thunderhead by your sides, I can solemnly swear we’re never gonna let you down.”

He smiled kindly, before giving a disapproving stink-eye. “The Thunderhead and I pronounce Robert Goddard illegible for the position of High Blade, so don’t even try it. We have some problems with that man.”

Scythe Goddard sank to his knees, distraught. “Scythe Astley? You don’t like me? What have I done?”

Astley ignored him, instead moving on to Curie herself. “Therefore, by process of elimination plus nobody cares about that other contestant, I hereby pronounce Honorable Scythe Marie Curie High Blade of MidMerica.”

Marie let in a shocked gasp, tears coming to her eyes. Rick Astley believed in her. “Is this true?”

“I don’t know what’s going on so I guess,” Xenocrates called from the back. “Ima go hop on over to Endura now anyway. I will live a happy and fulfilling life as Grandslayer and hopefully learn to become more than competent. Scythe Goddard will never come for a vacation.”

“Sounds good!” everyone called.

Rowan Damisch and Scythe Volta tiptoed in from the back. The mere presence of the near-god Astley had brought Volta back to life and caused Rowan to escape his bonds. Speaking of, he caught Anastasia’s eye and they started making out passionately. Scythe Curie decided to forgive him because if he was truly bad he too would have been smited by the wrath of Scythe Astley.

“Thank you, Rick,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“Of course!” he cried, and then repeated, “I’m never gonna give you up!” There was cheering from the crowd, all divisions in the scythedom forgotten. Someone started singing his theme song, the popular mortal-age ditty of his Patron Historic. It was very catchy. He tapped his dress shoes some more.

All was good. At long last, Curie felt herself truly relax. The scythedom was in good hands.

“Now who wants to go grab some ice cream?”

[chabby4memes]

"Once again you've done nothing for me!" Kirumi dodged an Oncoming Plate Just in time. God, Her boss was such a jerk sometimes. Trying to hit her like this. Good thing They had known eachother since Childhood... "Kirumi, I swear to God, It Took Nico a solid four days to get this clip and then you fail to plant it? You really would fail?" It was against Kirumi's morals to Pin a murder someone had Committed on an innocent, even for the 'All Powerful Dark Lord', Kirumi couldn't pin a murder that Sol very much caused and Maki very much Committed on Kaede... but she had no choice but to.

"You Know I care about you! I give you shelter, food! And all I ask is you dispose of that pin on Kaito's body, as you have gloves! Yet, You defy me so?" Kirumi scrunched her hands up. Before Sol grabbed her shoulder, Nico peered through the door way. "Soleil. I have to deny you. It is against my code as a Maid, You are aware of such a thing. It is also not within my Bounds to say, and you may choose to punish me later but.. I believe what you are doing to be quite Much, it is A Despicable act. Yet you use it to your ends."

Sol nodded in agreement, much to the chagrin of Kirumi, she was indeed aware. Very aware. But she still made her commit such an atrocious act... Sol was Deplorable, yet not corrupt, But She was still a cruel Mistress as was fate and Despair, she just needed a push. Hopefully not off a cliff. "Boss? I have a Bit of Kaede's Sweater. And the Glove you asked for." Nico, the Smallest member of the Trio, More devoted to Sol in an emotional manner than Kirumi... Quite a sheepish girl, with her small stature, she can fit anywhere. She was a few months younger than Kirumi. But they were still the same age. She loves praise.

Nico jumped when Sol shifted her attentions. "And you!? You have the gall to wait another three hours. The body will be discovered before we put this plan into motion!-"

"Boss I-"

"And Stop it with that Boss stuff. Boss is something someone low is called by their lower level worms! And do I look low to You?! Am I a Joke!? Is that what-" Kirumi grappled Sol's Chain, normally she would never, but, considering the Circumstances, it seemed more than necessary that she stopped sol- Imperative even. But that wouldn't stop Her, not with how much of a problem Nico was in her eyes. "Soleil, I hereby call the Fifth Seal-" Kirumi tapped her spine and dragged seal to the Suit of Armour that sat pretty in Sol's lab. "Kirumiiii- You know I didn't mean it like that! She was being annoying again!"

Sol was still only Twelve so it was Tolerable, well that's what Kirumi Supposed.

...

It had been a month since Kirumi had started seeing that Vision, Ever since Sol bit her, and that Mark had appeared on her skin... she was unable to stop seeing Sol hurting her. She could feel that same pain... she trusted her friend, She trusted Sol more than anyone else. How long Had  it been Since Maki had abandoned Sol, Kirumi couldn't allow herself to abandon her too.

"Kirumi? You sound tired today." She nodded, listening to the voice of the woman on the other side of the curtain, despite being on the surface, she was adamant that she not come out until the rain ceased. She laughed a little, making sure as to close her mouth before more pungent grey smoke entered the air around her. "Pizza is acting up again. He had managed to Hide in the cupboard again, even with the lock- Milady."

"You need ta stop being so formal, for god sakes yer a Pirate's Maid! Wasn't it that you had brother who disappeared, the one Rantaro killed?- sounds like you 'ad quite the energetic little lad for a brother ain't it.... that was insensitive o me, Sorry Kirumi."

The Pirate giggled softly, before bringing up something unexpected. Nico solemnly looked up at the window of the room, more smoke spreading across the air. "Seeing as it's the last day of your holiday, do you mind sitting with me for a cup of tea?" Sol coughed on her cigar, puffing out the ash stuck in her throat.

Now that she mentioned it, her "mandated" break was ending tomorrow, so Kirumi had guessed it wasn't too much of a hard ask. "Of Course, milady." The grey door creaked open, and a wave of hot air flowed out of the new enterance. She walked in, her black coat almost getting caught on a chain.

Kirumi had good eyes for the odd so when she looked at a table, with a large figure sitting with two mugs. "Well, let's get to know eachother properly, shall we, Kirumi?" Her eyes were a bright orange, betraying her excitement to finally see the Maid in person. Even though this was the third year of Kirumi working for Sol... Sol had never shown herself. So, she knew how to speak in such a situation.

"Now then, let us go? Next week we'll be in Japan, we'll hit landfall later than expected..." Kirumi looked at her, and then the map. Sol nodded as she slid it into his beefy jacket. Kirumi sipped at her tea,every few sips, she looked up at Kirumi. By the time she was finished drinking, Sol held her hands, The Cold. The hard, the Bones pressing against her gloves.

Sol guided her  to the doorway, and turned around, her hood on full display. "Let's go meet this new lass? ye call "Kaede" then." Nico looked back down again, and started having a mental breakdown over finally seeing her boss. Kaede was a Blonde Girl, And Sol could admit, she was a diamond in the rough. Back underground, Sol rarely got to see blondes that weren't Boss Monsters.

Kirumi immediately bowed down, almost shaking in fear, Sol grabbed her by the Collar- and clutched Kirumi's chest, pulling her soul straight out. "What's the Matter, Huh Kirumi?" Her eyes welled up with tears. This was much more horrible than her expected abuse.

Despite only having a singular eye, she has a surplus of power. Secretive and Manipulative- unlike Kirumi, she's a terror and very disorganized. When it comes to other people, she's dickish at best. Behind closed doors, she's a mess, nowadays, her diary is scribbles and on a better day, still gibberish, or repeating things, or talk about things that are gruesome. Why, Why did Kirumi still Trust her? Why Could this Simple Maid forget that!? That she was nothing more than a toy? That someone as soulless and messed up as Sol never cared? Was it childhood friends? Was it Sol's family?

Her motif is a clock, and a faint ticking could be heard coming from her chest, and similarly to a heartbeat, becomes faster with her emotions. It can become louder, it was banging, Ringing in Kirumi's ears, The Ticking was so intense that her chest looked as if the chassis would break off. Such vigor, such life suddenly breathing itself into Kirumi- the will to live, a burning passion. A feeling that she couldn't understand properly... it was enough for her... she had to fight.

Kicking her childhood friend in the Chest made Kirumi feel like dirt, Like trash like Garbage. But she had to fight or Sol would kill her. And she still didn't know why.

[etherealblasphemy]

The End of the Beginning

he. it’s rather fitting that i post this on new year’s day.

STARBOUND IS OFFICIALLY OVER!!! I finished at ten last night and promptly fell asleep (oops), but I’ve finished the writing of my very first novel-length bullshittery! Forewarning now, there’ll be a looooong A/N at the end about the future of Starbound, but for now, let’s get right into the tomfuckery, shall we?

(as always, translations for the Vasryian language are at the end of the chapter!)

TW: Mentions of alcohol, intoxication, and referenced murder

   “Does my dress look okay?” They turned again, trying to see how they looked from behind. They scrutinized the pale red fabric, watching how the shadows fell on their back as they twisted, the bottom fanning out. “It’s not too tight, right?” Two gentle hands grasped their wrists, spinning them around.

   “Stop frettin’, ya look right,” the mechanic assured them. “Now hurry ya horse, or we’ll be late!” She fixed her navy waistcoat, smoothing out wrinkles. “Sirs, are y’all decent?” From behind the divider, Dominic called out that they were. The three guards popped out, greeting Cal. All three of them wore the original uniform of the Vasryian Guard, a dark red tunic with a brilliant yellow flower in the center covering silver breeches and a small, sheathed dagger on their sides. Their black riding boots, not unlike the ones Roman wore, also bore the Vasryian seal on the buckles.

   “I can guide you to the Center Hall. The palace seems more like a labyrinth everyday I’m here,” Jamahl remarked, stepping forward. “Let’s go, before Prince Roman throws a fit that we’re not there!” Cal burst out laughing as they set off through the palace, able to see the crowds through the tall, gilded windows.

   “Only a month…” Terrence mused. “Only a month, and His Highness has won back the hearts of the people like Draven never existed… it’s a miracle.” Cal giggled knowingly, sending a silent thank you to their ancestor. “I’m so excited!” the guard continued. “Prince Roman will make such a good king!”

   “He looks more and more like his father every day. I almost called him by his father’s name, did you know?” Dominic chuckled. “It seems like yesterday Her Majesty was scolding Prince Roman for getting lost in the catacombs again, or His Majesty was teaching His Highness how to properly wield a sword.” He sighed. “Those dear, dead days beyond recall.”

   “Fifteen years,” Jamahl chimed in, “since that dreadful day.” He smiled bittersweetly at Cal and Wonder. “Thank you two, for bringing laughter back into these halls.”

   “No, thank y’all,” Wonderling insisted, “for always believin’ in Roman.” A grateful, merry mood settled in them as they moved through the maze of hallways.

   “Anybody know how long this ceremony is going to last? I’m planning on bringing snacks,” Cal joked. “Oh, come on, don’t give me that look, Sir Jamahl! I’m only half kidding!” Laughter echoed across the walls, mixing with the growing clamour from the Center Hall. They could see a crowd beginning to form, a wild throng of feathers, furs, and scales jumbling together in blurs of color. They let out a heavy breath, never one to be at ease with masses. A hand squeezed their arm.

   “Ya gon’ be fine, Cal?” Wonderling inquired under her breath, eyebrows raised with concern. Cal felt their face flush and nodded quickly, focusing on the floor ahead of them.

   The guards escorted them through the growing multitude, bringing them into the Center Hall. Cal’s jaw dropped at the transformation that it had gone through since Draven’s defeat. The windows and chandeliers were newly polished, sparkling with a heaven-like light that cast rainbows across the marble floor. The throne Draven had used, which was ebony with golden ivy winding up the sides, was gone, replaced by the thrones of Roman’s father and mother, his own throne to the left of his mother’s. The three thrones were all made of a silvery wood, with scarlet cushions and elaborately carved reliefs in the arm rests and head crests. Every few feet down the hall were vases filled with blooming flowers of every hue, filling the air with pleasant aromas that reminded Cal of memories that weren’t even theirs.

   Virgil, Logan, and Patton were clumped together at the front, talking amongst each other excitedly. “I’m thrilled to finally be able to listen to Vasry again. It’s been forever since I’ve heard it, and it’s such a pretty language compared to Aresan. Roman and I only used it when we spoke to each other in private,” Patton was saying as they approached. The guards split off from Cal and Wonderling and went into a side room, where their superior was likely giving out orders for the celebratory day.

   “Will they use it in the ceremony, though?” Logan countered, adjusting the glasses perched on his nose. “It is to my understanding that Aresan is the principal language used in the Vasryian palace. Did I misunderstand?”

   “Oh, no, Aresan is only used for diplomatic purposes… usually… maybe he changed it. But Vasry will definitely used. I remember Roman starting to learn the verses when we were kids. He always stuttered back then, but I‘m sure he’ll do fine today!” Patton grinned as he sat down. “Cal, I saved you a seat!” He waved excitedly at Cal, beckoning them to come and sit down.

   “Aw, aren’t ya just a sweetheart, Patton,” Wonderling laughed. “I’ll go find my chair and leave y’all to yaselves for now, but I expect us to chat up afterwards, a’ight?” She smiled sweetly, mirth in her eyes.

   “We literally just fought a battle together a month ago, what is there to catch up about?” Virgil scoffed with glee.

   “Ya gon’ tell me everythin’ about ya and Roman, ya hear me? Or perhaps I oughta ask Patton?” she chuckled as Virgil flushed, unable to retort for fear of a backlash of wit. Wonderling escaped rapidly, finding her own seat a few rows behind where Cal and their friends would sit during the ceremony. As soon as the four took their seats, Cal still nervously adjusting their dress, an organ stuffed in a hidden corner of the hall began to play, signaling the entrance of the ascending prince. Cal immediately rose, as they had practiced at the rehearsal earlier that week, and turned to watch for Roman, eager to see what sort of regalia he had been forced into.

   The mahogany doors at the end of the hall opened with grandeur, and in strode Roman. He wore a simple white tunic with tan breeches and black boots, a stark contrast to the dresses and suits the audience members wore. The soon-to-be-king also wore a golden cape that trailed for several feet on the floor, almost like a bride, with silver designs intricately sewn onto the fabric.  Roman caught the eyes of his friends and smiled anxiously before returning his gaze to the end of the hall, where an old priest waited for him.

   Roman walked slowly but purposefully, as though every step he took had been planned years in advance. He reached the raised platform where the priest seemed to tower above him despite her short stature.

   “Prince Roman,” she greeted, her voice laced with cobwebs and dust. He bowed his head in salutation. “Thou stands before the judgement of the heavens today. Thou wishes to ascend to the Vasryian throne?”

   “I do,” Roman stated.

   “Then stand before thy ancestors and answer with an honest soul.” The priest retrieved a  small, worn book from a shelf behind her, its cover a pale blue that had faded with the unseen sands of time. “Dost thou solemnly and honestly swear to govern and protect the Peoples of Vasryia and all its Territories, respecting the laws and customs of the lands thou reign over?” the priest said, her gnarled fingers curling around the spine of the book of myths.

   “I solemnly promise to govern and protect, to the best of my ability, the Peoples over whom I have been given duty to reign.” They could hear Roman’s voice was shaking, no doubt scared he would stumble over his words and ruin everything.

   “Will every action thou take be for the good and betterment of Vasryia and its Peoples? Will thee put the life of thy Nation before thine own? Will thee govern with an open and just heart, a wise and witful mind, and a humble and mighty soul?” The priest’s voice rang out, filling the entirety of the Hall so that each and every present being could hear the will of the heavens.

   Roman hesitated. “I— I will.” Cal saw him swallow, digging his thumb’s nail into the soft flesh of his finger, almost hard enough to draw forth blood. The priest paused as though she noticed Roman’s momentary rumination, but continued without a word.

   “Dost thou take the oath in good health, good mind, and good spirit, and allow the spirit of our Savior Calypso to take root in your soul?” Roman nodded. “Then all Ye who have objection to the ascension of our beloved and at last returned Prince to the throne of the Vasryian King, speak now or forever hold thy peace.” The priest fell silent, her grey eyes of sagacity turned to the audience, daring any one of them to stand up and speak their cavil. None spoke.

   “The heavens have spoken. Prince Roman Machaizelli Bastian Prionsa of Vasryia shall ascend to the throne and bring balance once more to the lands as our rightful ruler. By the power vested in me by the spirit of Calypso herself, by the will of the Guardian and the Generals, I hereby proclaim thee the King of Vasryia. Come forth, and receive thy blessing from thy forebearers.” Roman glanced back quickly at Virgil, who smiled brightly, giving him a small thumbs up. Roman’s mood immediately shifted, his shoulders releasing their previous tension.

   He stepped forward and kneeled, his head bowed. The priest placed the book she held before him. The prince kissed it, murmuring in his native language. “Eh saeuna fa eh saegha iwa oen na ise Cayso, kirō e talhyn viosa i fa fērka-dai e gal. Mae na Garda yaesen na alma reaga eh noma sha da eh uoye haseo fai na sasha de eh Vasr.” The priest mumbled something unintelligible. “E reja na alma Cayso!” The priest repeated Roman’s word with a shriek, head upturned to the ceiling as though some invisible bird was perched upon the rafters. “E reja na alma na Garda! E reja na alma na Saeona!” The walls of the hall seemed to shake with the fervor in Roman’s voice.

   The priest put her book on a shelf behind them and took a vial of water. “These are the tears of Calypso, shed when she left her world behind.” As she spoke, the priest opened the vial and emptied it, the water spilling down Roman’s flower crown and face. The priest took a bottle of scented oil and poured it, too, over the prince. “This is the sweat of Calypso, shed when she trained with her Generals to protect her new world.” The third and final item the priest poured over Roman was a bowl of dark wine. “This is the blood of Calypso, shed when she died a thousand times to save her home.”

   “I am one with the soul of Calypso. She shall live in me and she shall live in Vasryia,” Roman swore as the priest guided him to his feet. At last, the priest grasped a golden scepter and orb, bringing it in front of Roman. The woman handed them to the soon-to-be-king, her wise eyes smiling despite her emotionless expression.

   “Prince Roman Machaizelli Bastian Prionsa, son of Vasryia, today thou ascends the throne as King of Vasryia. Thou hast sworn to protect thy nation until thy dying day. Thou hast received the blessings of Vasryia and her guardians. Now, turn to thy People and let them see the light of Calypso, the Generals, and the Guardian within thee.” Roman turned to the crowd, who waited with baited breath as he called out in the Vasryian tongue.

   “E sa tu ren!” he yelled, the Vasryians in the audience quickly responding in their native language. Once more, Roman kneeled, bowing his head as the priest placed a crown on his head.

   It was the Vasryian colors, gold and red, but it had gorgeous jewels adorning it in every hue, reminiscent of the Guardian’s wings. From where they were seated, Cal could see the small Vasryian seal embedded on the front.

   “Rise, King Roman, and claim thy place in history.” Roman steadily arose, a new aura about him as he stepped to the throne, sitting down as a king should, elegant and graceful, but strong and proud. His gaze was unwavering, staring straight ahead at the carved scenes on the doors at the end of the hall as the priest kneeled, bowing before her new king. Cal and the others in the hall replicated the movement, bowing deeply. As they straightened, sitting back down, bells began to toll, clanging and ringing and proclaiming the ascenscion of the king at last. A cheer went up through the hall as Roman visibly relaxed in his chair, thankful for the ceremony to at last be over.

   The crowd quickly dissipated, leaving Roman alone with the priest and a few select advisors to sign official documents. Cal heaved a sigh as the doors swung shut behind them. “Party time?” they asked hopefully. Virgil grinned conspiratorially.

   “Party time— Ow! Logan!”

   “The reception does not start for another three hours, and, anyways, Roman won’t be there for another five hours,” Logan reprimanded firmly. “I suggest we go and see the crowd outside, perhaps we can conversate with some of them. Roman will greet them in a couple of minutes, I believe.” Virgil rolled his eyes.

   “Fine, we can be responsible adults for five hours,” he whined. “But as soon as Roman walks in that room I’m going to get him fucking wasted!” He giggled softly as Logan smacked him over the head with a huff.

   The group headed outside, shielding their eyes from the burning sun. The mass of people lined up outside the palace was imposing, almost nerve-wracking for Cal as they stepped out of the palace. It was a warm day, one that without a doubt would end in a beautiful night, and not a cloud was in sight. Unfortunately, this meant that the gigantic crowd waiting to see their new king had absolutely no problem waiting hours to catch a glimpse in the beautiful weather.

   They waited to the side, protected by one of the glass towers from the gaze of the burning star as they watched the crowd. Someone was selling treats to the little children who begged their parents for the sweet pastries, and another vender sold handheld flags that bore the Vasryian seal. A pair of old women sat in the grass playing in a board game to pass the time as their husbands played cards.

   A sudden roar went up among the crowd, and Cal turned to see Roman exit the palace, waving at the Vasryian people. He walked up to the crowd held at bay only by a couple small wooden partitioners and several guards. He seemed to pick up on the eight eyes watching him curiously, and he pivoted to see his family. The royal waved them over, and, after a moment of deliberation, they heeded his request. As they got closer, the sounds of the throng grew, calls and shrieks and laughs and cries all jumbled into one cacophony of life.

   Roman addressed the common people, saying, “E fauna tu hanna fai na meoso de na alda fa na saeuna agus talta tu chaka yai e na saga lune sa cayse de na fin de na ren-vio de eh babusha venna. E talhyn dorioga ferka sahaga e dan iga na alma Cayso-dai, agus e heuyo kaeh ser  tu, eh Vasr, ina baego fa eh itda. Ingan vas irheo bakdan o vas irheo pasha, ingan vas kona o vas kana, ingan vas saeuna o vas fuath, e talhyn tu vas nunra vasya, na Vasr de Vasryia.” A paean went up once more.

    The royal began to greet the people lined up to see him, grinning and saluting each one. He listened to the stories a group of miners told him about how Draven had begun to focus funds on expansion and conquering nearby planets, leaving their mines in dangerous conditions. Roman promised to look into it as soon as possible and pass safety regulations. He came upon a book club later; the individuals all gave him copies of fairy tales, somehow having learned that when escaping the palace, he and Patton had been unable to take their favorite book of fantasy worlds.

   Patton, having grown up in Vasryia, was also a person of interest and recognition to the crowd; some of the braver children asked if they could touch his antlers, to which he agreed, a great delight among the kids. A few old women offered knitted scarves to all five of them, which they gladly accepted. Cal’s heart felt like it was going to explode from so much affection.

   The last group Roman greeted that day, long after much of the crowd as dispersed and gone home, was a cluster of young children from a nearby orphanage. They were dressed in their finest, albeit plain, clothing, ranging from frilly dresses the color of lollipops to dusty suits to simple white tunics and a pair of trousers. The five of them spent a particularly long time with the children, most of them being orphans themselves.

   Patton was very receptive with the youngest of the children, allowing to climb on top of his back for piggyback rides, and drape handmade garlands and daisy chains across his antlers. Logan recited a few children’s stories he had downloaded  during his time as an android, though very few of the children spoke his interplanetary tongue and understood. Virgil and Cal played pick-up-sticks with some of them, purposefully allowing the children to win. Roman, of course, spoke a bit with the present caretaker before he sat with the children and told them fairytales, weaved flower crowns like his own, and played make-believe.

   The caretaker took out a pocket watch and clapped their hands, garnering the children’s attention. They began to round up the kids, who all groaned in unison as they collected their belongings.

   “Do they have to go?” Cal complained to Roman.

   “I know, I want to adopt them all,” he replied with a pout. “But it’s dinner time, so they have to go.” Roman beamed as he waved goodbye to the kids as they walked back home; one paused and ran back, shoving a crumpled sheet of paper into the royal’s hands.

   “Ekka sona?” Roman asked the little boy, who couldn’t have been any older than six. The boy ducked his head shyly as he wrung his hands.

   “E eayo tu seongu na basta taeya. Madda seun tu kkayeong vas. Haepsu,” he breathed, his eyes the size of the moon. “Tu sa eh laoch.” A nearly inaudible gasp left Roman’s lips as the boy hugged Roman’s legs and ran back to the group.

   “Oi! Ekka alta?” Roman called.

   The kid turned on his heel as he ran, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Kit!”

   “You want to adopt the kid, don’t you?” Patton simpered as Roman nodded vigorously. “He said he saw the whole thing,” Patton translated. “He told us we’re his heros.”

   “I’m going to fucking adopt that kid if it’s the last thing I do,” Virgil declared passionately.

   “Alright, is it party time now?” Cal yelped as Logan hit their head in exasperation, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he nodded. “Fuck yeah, let’s get totaled!” they cheered as the five of them at last headed for the revelry.

   They had not expected people to surround them as soon as they walked through the doors, mobbing them with questions and praise and noise. Cal would have gone straight to their room then and there and asked a nearby maid to get them a drink, never to see the light again, if it weren’t for Patton’s grasp on their arm, pulling further into the horde inside the ballroom.

   They said a little prayer for their sanity and put on their best I-don’t-want-to-be-here smile as the others began to greet the mob. For their family, Cal reminded themself, they could do this for their family.

   Cal breathed a sigh of relief when the last guests went away. They hadn’t been able to have a single drink in the time they had been there, which was a problem in Cal’s mind. They rolled their head, working out the kinks in their neck as they spied a waitress walking by with a tray full of fizzy pink drinks. Cal felt themself smirk as they weaved around the crowd for their prize.

   They lost her in the crowd, pushed out of the way by a dancing couple, who apologized profusely, but got them nowhere closer to their cocktail of inhibition. Defeated, they returned to their family, eyes focusing on a shadow behind Roman, gasping as realization struck them.

   An old woman had snuck up behind the Vasryian, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Cal felt for their blade, going numb when they remembered there had been a strict no weapons rule for the coronation’s ceremony and reception. They opened their mouth to warn the royal when the woman suddenly hugged him, squealing.

   “Oh, Roman! You’ve grown!” Roman shrieked in surprise, though the offending noise quickly turned to laughter as he recognized the old lady.

   “Grandma!” he cried with delight as he returned the hug. “Sweet Calypso, I thought… I thought Draven had killed you, too!”

   “Oh, my God, Roman has a grandmother,” Virgil muttered as Logan side-eyed him a silent warning to behave properly.

   “My darling, I may be a Prionsa in name only, but we have the same fighting spirit. I promised I would not fall to that man,” the woman said with a fierce glint in her eyes. Seeing the question in Roman’s eyes, she continued. “Your grandfather did not die at that man’s hands. We hid with my sister on Dageron. He passed on to the heavens peacefully in his sleep some years ago and reunited with Duchess Haaija.” The woman’s eyes grew sad. “You must forgive me, my dear Roman. I’ve held off his funeral in hopes that you and Patton were alive as the guards told me. I thought Iske would like it, if you were there.”

   Roman’s eyes were filled with tears. “I… I don’t know what to say…” He hugged his grandmother tighter, burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Thank you.” The woman outstretched an arm to Patton, who quickly accepted the offer, hugging both of them.

   “From what I researched—” Logan quietly explained to Virgil and Cal, “—Lady Kalopsia married the father of Roman’s mother. His mother’s sister adopted Patton, making him and Roman cousins. It seems all three of them consider each other family despite having no blood relation, like us.”

   Cal chuckled. “Yeah… yeah, like us.”

   Roman and Patton pulled away with damp eyes, Roman wiping away the streams down his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Well, you boys go back to the party, alright? Don’t let an old woman like me stop you from having fun. It’s your coronation day, you should be celebrating!” the old crone said as she pushed her grandsons back towards the festivities.

   “Okay, Grandmama!” Patton acquiesced as he hugged her goodbye. She disappeared into the crowd, just another face among hundreds. Cal watched her go with narrow eyes, truthfully quite jealous of the boys.

   “You good, guys?” Virgil asked, eyebrows upturned in concern. Roman nodded, took Virgil’s hand, and squeezed it, nodding. Roman’s eyes darted up at the crowd, scanning the faces. His eyes lit up with recognition.

   “Vespera!” Roman cried as he noticed a woman pulling a young girl. The woman looked up and broke into a smile as she saw Roman, drawing near despite the girl’s whines. “How are you, dear? It’s been too long,” he greeted as he drew the mysterious woman into a tight hug.

   “It has,” the woman agreed. “I’m doing wonderful, thank you for asking. A little worn out caring for my daughter, Annamer,” she sighed, gesturing to the little girl, who hid behind her mother’s legs as she studied the strangers, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Vespera paused, smile falling. “Did you hear? He tried to invade Dageron during our Festival of Dying Suns.” Roman gasped, shaking his head. “The damn fool thought his petty army stood a chance against ou mages.” The silence grew as all traces of joy disappeared from the Dageronian’s face. “I never thought I’d see you again. Draven told us you had died alongside your parents in a fire at your summer cottage. When I received notice that you to be crowned king, I almost didn’t believe it. It was quite a shock.”

   “Well, here I am, alive and well… I… can’t saw the same for my parents, however.” Roman’s voice broke at the end, his shoulders tensing. Vespera placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

   “They would be very proud of you, Roman. I am very proud of you.” Roman smiled bittersweetly, bowing his head. The woman noticed someone in the crowd and called to them. “Samuel, could you please take Annamer? I think she’s getting cranky, and you can handle her better than I can when she gets testy.” A man quickly came to Vespera, kissing her on the cheek, and took the little girl’s hand, guiding her out of the ballroom.

   Roman seemed to recall his friends were waiting to be introduced to this enigmatic lady and corrected his error. “Vespera, I’d like you to meet the people who helped me throughout my years as an outlaw and who’ve become family to me.”

   “Hello to you all,” Vespera acknowledged, curtsying.

   “You already know Patton,” he said as Patton waved, smiling at the old friend. “This is Logan, the brilliant man who always planned our exploits… even if I never really followed his instructions.” Logan huffed jovially and he bowed his head to Vespera, who curtsied again. “This is Cal, our bold but loveable gunner and leader. They’re the one who inspired us all to take a stand against Draven in the first place.”

   “You’re wings are absolutely gorgeous, my dear,” Vespera commented as she shook Cal’s outstretched hand, her glittering eyes tracing every curve of their wings. Cal gave a curt nod in thanks. “And… who are you?” she asked Virgil, who was staring at the floor, uncomfortable with the attention.

   “I’m Vee,” he mumbled under his breath, shuffling his feet. “I’m Roman’s emaja.” Vespera smiled.

   “I’m Vespera Katriel.” She glanced at Roman, who nodded, gesturing for her to continue. “I… was Roman’s betrothed, once upon a time.” She laughed at Virgil’s surprise and apprehension. “You don’t have to worry, dear. I have my own husband, who I love as much as I’m sure you love yours.”

   “Oh! Oh, we’re not—we’re not married,” Virgil blurted, his face coloring as Vespera hid a snicker behind her hand.

   “Yet,” Logan muttered as Roman’s cheeks turned the same shade as Virgil, who turned in disbelief and smacked his shoulder. Cal snorted loudly, encouraging Vespera to laugh as well. Virgil opened his mouth to spit some witty retort at Logan, when a loud voice interrupted them.

   “Ladies and gentlemen—” Cal bristled, “—we now invite you all to dance at the center of the room. First, however, the king shall perform the ceremonial coronation dance,” the voice announced. Roman cursed quietly.

   “I was never any good at that,” he grumbled as he headed to the center of the ballroom.

   “Vee, you might want to get a good place for this,” Vespera advised, already taking him by the arm and leading him as he spluttered, confused. Never one to miss out on a spectacle, Cal quickly claimed their own spot in the front. Roman was in the center of the circle the crowd had created, head bowed as the multitude hushed, allowing the music to trickle through, a soft piano accompanied by a mellow violin.

   Roman’s eyes were closed as he began to move. He lifted an arm in the air, graceful as the winter winds as he swayed back and forth like a hesitant heart to the music. Roman was nothing less than the evanescent efflorescence of a flower blooming in the dark, a symbol of hope in a boundless void as he danced, spinning and twirling and bending to the will of the melody. Not a soul could drag their eyes away for one second as he danced, some even crying as they watched their long-lost king dance to a tune mournful but proud, bittersweet but hopeful. As the final note ebbed away to a time of what-ifs and yesterdays, Cal, like many others, found themself moved to applause as Roman, grinning despite the flush across his cheeks, bowed deeply.

   “My dear People, friends, and family, I thank you all for celebrating today in my honor. Please, join me in dance and revelry,” Roman announced as the musicians in the back corner stage struck up a jolly tune, one apparently familiar to the Vasryian people who gasped and clapped with recognition and overtook the ballroom in a frenzied, energetic dance. Cal stepped back, bopping their head to the beat as Roman went to Virgil, bowing with his hand outstretched. Though they could not hear the words exchanged between the two, Roman must have delivered another one of his cheesy romantic lines, for Virgil’s face went red and he smacked Roman’s arms despite grinning like the lovesick idiot he was and gladly following Roman to the center as Logan took Patton’s hands and led him in a small waltz and the Drisine laughed, his smile bright as the stars.

   They watched the dancing for a while until they got bored of ogling all the pretty dresses flashing by them in whirls of hues, and retreated to wall, where like-minded people were resting on one of the benches or were simply plastered against the wall in what Cal assumed was a failing attempt to be invisible. They hung out by a vase, the aroma of the flowers nearly overwhelming as they closed their eyes, letting their mind fill with the sound of the piano’s crescendos and diminuendos.

   “Ya seem bored.” Cal was unsurprised at the sound of the mechanic’s voice. They opened their eyes to see her standing in front of them, her waistcoat from earlier gone and two buttons of her top undone. Her face was painted with a faint flush as she nursed an empty wine glass, depositing it on a tray as soon as a waiter got close enough. “Wanna chase away the dog and tell me what this angel hoo diddy is all about?” she asked, gesturing to Cal’s wings. Cal’s face flushed as they laughed awkwardly.

   “Well, I’ve only had them for about a month, so… I don’t really know what’s really going on.” They shrugged, trying to shake off the embarrassment growing in their chest. “I’m, um… not, not what you said… I’m not ‘an angel’. I think.”

   “What are ya, then?” Wonderling smirked. “Besides a kick-ass fighter, I mean.”

   “Logan said I… transformed or something when I touched the Gazer Stone. Apparently, I’m a Stargazer.” Wonderling tilted her head, confused. “You know… the mythical beings who protect the legacy of Calypso and her Generals? ‘Daughters of Calypso and sons of the Guardian’ and all that?” Wonderling shook her head. “It’s—it’s not a big deal, don’t worry about.”

   “Hey, Wonder, I’s wond’rin’ when I’d sees ya!” a man called as he came up from behind them, a pretty young woman’s arms wrapped around his shoulders as he dragged her limp body across the floor. “Ada found the apple jack again. I got’s ‘er a cup of Adam’s ale, but I thinks she just needs a dream before she airs the paunch. Ya thinks ya could give a horse?”

   “Allers, Rowan.” Wonderling took a step forward, taking one arm of the woman and slinging around her own shoulder. “Hey—Rowan, ya never met Cal, have ya? C’mere, I’ll get y’all acquainted with one another. Rowan—Rowan, stick ya hand out, this ain’t Legion!” The man—Rowan—grumbled, but stuck out his hand in a friendly greeting. “Now, Rowan, this is Cal, a friend of the troublemaker boys, though Cal’s much more manageable than the rest of them, battling ancient evils aside.” Cal nodded curtly, firmly shaking Rowan’s almond-colored hand. “And, Cal, this is Rowan, my best friend’s brother—”

   “Hey, I’m yer best friend, too!”

   “Only sometimes, Rowan, sweetie.” Cal hid a giggle behind a cough. “Now, let’s get Ada to bed, how ‘bout it?” Wonderling heaved Ada’s dead weight back onto her, shifting her limp head into a more comfortable position. The mechanic paused, and turned back to Cal. “I wouldn’t wait up for me, Cal. Ada can be a bit much to handle when she’s whittled. Tell the boys I said good night, will ya?”

   “...sure.” Wonderling smiled and thanked them, and started off with Rowan, moving slowly to keep the sleeping woman upright. Cal felt something akin to disappointment settle in their stomach. The mechanic was a beautiful, kind woman, but she had a job—two, actually, two that probably kept her very busy. This was very likely one of the last times Cal would be able to see her, talk freely with her. Unless they did something about it. “Miss—Miss Wonderling?” The mechanic turned around, eyebrows raised. “Would you, um…” Sweet Calypso, it felt like their face was on fire. “...would you like to… to share a glass sometime? I—I know you’re probably very busy and all, but I—”

   “Cal?” They fell silent unhesitatingly, eager to hear their response. She grinned, radiating joy and warmth. “I would love to.” With that, she resumed her assistance again, Rowan and Wonderling continued to guide the unconscious woman to the room where she was staying. Cal sat themself down on a nearby chair, an unbelieving smile on their face.

   Patton came running up to them, his excitement almost touchable. “Cal! Are you enjoying the party?” He quickly downed a tall flute filled with something golden, his cheeks flushing with colors and his eyes glazing just a little bit more as soon as he swallowed the sparkling liquid. “Whoo, that’s strong,” he mumbled. “Are you having fun? I said that before, haven’t I?”

   Cal laughed, taking Patton’s glass and setting it on the tray of a passing waiter. “No more good shit for you, Patton,” they snickered as he pouted, whining at the loss of his liquid oblivion. “And, yeah, I am having fun. It’s been one of the best nights of my life.” They smiled, noticing Roman and Virgil in the center of the room, beneath golden chandelier burning bright with the flames of a thousand candles, their eyes locked as they danced slowly across the floor. “Looks like they’re having fun,” they noted, jutting their head at the lovers.

   Patton smiled softly as he at last sat down next to them, though still extremely energetic, swinging his feet like a child and giggling and hiccuping uncontrollably at random intervals. “Yeah. I’m really happy for them, Cal. Roman and Virgil have both been through so much… they really deserve someone who loves them.”

   “Well, we love them both, right?”

   “We do, but…” Patton’s voice grew a tad more serious, despite his eyelids starting to flutter. “They need someone who will devote their whole being to them. They need something other than friends. I might be fine with family, or people who become like family to us, but Roman, and Virgil, and a lot of other people need someone to hold them and empathize with them and kiss them and love them in a different way. I still don’t really understand it—maybe that’s because I grew up away from my kind—but I’m starting to learn.” Patton’s eyes closed as he leaned against Cal, breathing deeper and slower with each inhale. “I’m really happy for them,” he whispered again as his breathing evened out, eyes staying shut.

   “Patton, if you’re— Oh, well, that’s… alright, let’s get you to bed,” they mumbled as they got up, holding the shapeshifter upright. They tried to lift him up, struggling. Cal let out a defeated sigh. “...I guess we could stay here for a few minutes…” they conceded as they sat back down, maneuvering the Drisine into a much more comfortable position against their shoulder.

   They saw Logan walk by a couple minutes later and called him over so at least they’d have company to conversate with. “What happened to Patton?” he asked, sitting on Patton’s left.

   “He got a little too tipsy, he’ll be fine by the morning.” They chuckled, shaking their head as they thought back on misadventures they had had while drunk. The last time they had had a drink had been at Sleeping Stars. So much had come from that little glass. They spied a waiter passing by and snatched a drink from the tray, downing it in one gulp. At Logan’s raised eyebrow, they teased, “What? Last time I drank enough to actually have courage we ended up dethroning a bastard and making Roman a king. Who knows what will happen this time?” Logan snorted, eyes going wide as he realized the sound he had just made was a laugh.

    Pointing a finger at Cal in an attempt to seem serious, Logan threatened, “If the fact that I just laughed ever makes it way back to Patton, I’ll never let you drink again.” Cal giggled, already feeling the effects of whatever they had just swallowed.

   “Sure, sure.” A thought struck them. “Hey, how much has Virgil had? He’s not good with alcohol either, right?”

   “You’re correct, though I’m surprised you remember that, Cal,” he replied with a hint of admiration.

   “Got to look out for my friends, don’t I?” they contemplated. “Calypso knows where I’d be without you all. Probably would’ve thrown myself into space to fill the black hole inside of me… though I think you guys have done a pretty good job yourselves.” The scholar grinned.

   Logan fell silent, his gaze on the sleeping Drisine. “Who knows where I’d be…” he mulled. “I would still be back home, working with the Guild. I might have actually reprogrammed myself…” He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Look how far we’ve come.”

   They let themselves bask in the comfortable silence, needing no words to speak their friendship. Cal almost fell asleep to Patton’s subtle breathing, his chest rising and falling in time with the music that danced and spun and twirled through the hallways. Their eyes were closed, the darkness behind their eyelids no longer cold and distant, but alive and warm like a summer’s night spent exploring fields of fireflies.

   Cal heard the tread of footsteps approach them and opened their drowsy eyes. Roman and Virgil were standing above them. “Sorry, Cal, did we wake you?” Virgil asked.

   “Nah, I was just… resting my eyes…”

   “...Whatever you say, Cal,” Virgil snickered. “It’s suffocating in here, how about we move into the gardens?” Cal nodded, wordlessly standing up, Logan helping them to bring a sleeping Patton to his feet. “Want me to bring him to his room?” Virgil offered.

   Cal waved it off, saying, “It’s fine, I’ll just sit him down on a bench outside. Wouldn’t want you to miss a second of your lover’s coronation party.” Virgil blushed, swatting Cal’s arm playfully.

   The five went outside, where only a few guests milled about in the shadows. Fairy lights decorated the silhouettes of trees, each little spark a different color. It was dark out, stars creeping out of their daylight sleep to shimmer dazzlingly, painting the heavens with life. The shadows of roses and weeping trees seemed to move in the low light, their spirits laughing together and dancing in the firelight of the moon.

   “I’ll miss living among the stars,” Roman whispered, wrapping an arm around Virgil’s side, pulling him close.

   “I’m really going to miss our days of swashbuckling outlawing,” Virgil mused, resting his head on the royal’s collarbone. “I suppose Vasryia has laws against stealing goods and fighting every asshole you come across?” he asked Roman.

   “Fortunately, yes, we do,” he laughed. “Though, I certainly agree, I will miss having complete and utter freedom from responsibilities and consequences and whatnot. But, who knows? Maybe we’ll have some adventures with time.”

   “Oh, please,” Cal snorted with merriment. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll be on another adventure before we even know it.” For a moonlit moment, their eyes glowed silver as the clouds, perhaps just a reflection of the lights strung about the gardens, or perhaps but an auspice. “I just hope you’ll be willing to listen.”

Translation of the Vasryian language:

“Eh saeuna fa eh saegha iwa oen na ise Cayso, kirō e talhyn viosa i fa fērka-dai e gal. Mae na Garda yaesen na alma reaga eh noma sha da eh uoye haseo fai na sasha de eh Vasr.” (“My love for my country shall be as high as the heart of Calypso, which I promise to live in for every day I breathe. May the generals rip the soul out of my body if ever my eyes stray from the good of my People.”)

“E reja na alma Cayso!” “E reja na alma Garda! E reja na alma Saeona!” (“I invoke the spirit of Calypso!” “I invoke the spirit of the Generals! I invoke the spirit of the Guardian!”)

“E sa tu ren!” (“I am your king!”)

“E fauna tu hanna fai na meoso de na alda fa na saeuna agus talta tu chaka yai e na saga lune sa cayse de na fin de na ren-vio de eh babusha venna. E talhyn dorioga ferka sahaga e dan iga na alma Cayso-dai, agus e heuyo kaeh ser  tu, eh Vasr, ina baego fa eh itda. Ingan vas irheo bakdan o vas irheo pasha, ingan vas kona o vas kana, ingan vas saeuna o vas fuath, e talhyn tu vas nunra vasya, na Vasr de Vasryia.” (“I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the love and support you have shown me this past month in light of the end of tyrannical reign of my late uncle. I promise to uphold every oath I took before the spirit of the heavens, and I swear to always put you, my People, in the forefront of my mind. Whether we face hardship or we face peace, whether we rise or we fall, whether we love or we hate, I promise to you we shall do it together, as the people of Vasryia.”)

“Ekka sona?” (“What’s this?”)

“E eayo tu seongu na basta taeya. Madda seun tu kkayeong vas. Haepsu.” (“I saw you fight a big black monster. Mistress says you saved us. Thank you.”)

“Tu sa eh laoch.” (“You’re my hero.”)

“Oi! Ekka alta?” (“Hey! What’s your name?”)

“Kit!” (“Kit!”)

and just like that, a legend ends

ha, who am i kidding? Starbound has closed it covers, and I couldn’t be more happy! Over a year and a half was devoted to this brainchild of mine, and I’m ecstatic to have finally finished and been able to have shared it with you all!

I’ll be honest with you all, I am seriously considering trying to publish Starbound. Naturally, it would be heavily revised (and most of it would probably be deleted but oh well) and all the names would be changed. What do you guys think? Should I try to get Starbound published?

To end, thank you. Even if you only read the original post with the headcanons, or if you’ve read every single chapter. Thank you. You’re interactions and enthusiasm are the reasons I kept writing. If it were any other story, I would have abandoned it within two chapters and moved on to another story that would also end up discarded. But you guys kept me going, and now I can proudly state that I’ve finished a novel. So, despite the fact that I always say this, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I love you guys! <3

tag list:

@asofterfan

@alix-the-skeleton

@hufflepuffsscrewdriver

@v-blue-writer

@sanderssidesstuff

[scaredofrobots]

THE SOCIETY

based on @kittykitpanda headcanon My friends @elanev91 @beks21 and @levins18 and @petalstofish  are BULLIES. THEY BULLY ME

I was gonna post as a “HAPPY 45 DAYS UNTIL CHRIMA” tomorrow but know you nerds love Taylor more than me

ON FFN 

Living life without regrets was generally easy for James Potter. Mistakes, he would make and try to fix- but regrets were generally avoided and not something he would allow himself to have.

That was until Sixth Year Potions. James Potter believed he would regret being late to the first day of Advanced Potions for the rest of his life.

When he arrived only two minutes before class started, he was surprised to see Sirius Black sitting with Lily Evans. When he took the seat next to Remus he didn’t even have to ask for an explanation, “Sirius has decided that NEW MATE LILY EVANS should not be subjected to partner with ‘that foul racist greasy headed git’ so he has taken it upon himself to be Lily’s potions partner, and don’t even ask- I lost rock paper scissors for it as me. And then since you weren’t here and he knew you’d be pissed I had to do another round,” here Remus did his Sirius impression- which was basically just him yelling, “as James- he always does rock first Remus so I’m Evans’ partner”

Before James could protest or approach Sirius and demand a rock paper scissors redo, Professor Slughorn entered the room and started class.

Sixth Year was apparently going to be the worst, they were brewing some complicated ass potion that even Remus didn’t understand. They spent the entire class muttering “what the fuck is a dingle berry?” or  “wait- we were supposed to stir it how many times?” and “shit- I didn’t even see that ingredient back there.”

While James and Remus were dying a slow and painful death, Lily and Sirius seemed to be having the time of their lives. They were fucking laughing and leisurely working on the potion as if it were the easiest thing in the world and that brewing this fucking potion was actually enjoyable.

At the end of class when Slughorn was gathering their vials, he remarked “Ahh...Ms. Evans, Mr. Black- you’ve brewed a perfect potion and earned yourself a break from homework.”

When he and Remus were assigned an extra foot of parchment, James found himself cursing the extra piece of bacon he ate at breakfast that made him late.

As they headed back to their common room for a free period, Lily caught up with him.

“Tough luck, Potter,” Lily sympathized as she linked arms with him. Despite his scowl, his heart sped up a little bit.

“That's alright Evans, I’ll be sure to be on time and then we can be partners,” he smiled back to her.

“NOPE,” Sirius exclaimed, as he came between them and dropped his arms over their shoulders, “The early Marauder gets the worm and in the case of potions Evans is the best worm there is and I intend to keep her.”

“First of all,” Lily started, “I am not a worm- but I am stuck with Sirius because Slughorn said we’d be partners with whoever we matched with today for the rest of this term. Secondly, I’ve told you calling yourself The Marauders is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. It won’t ever catch on and you just seem like a bunch of weirdos who named your friend group for no discernible reason.”

“IT IS NOT STUPID!!!” all of the boys responded loudly and angrily.

“Well, it’s bloody confusing. My mother thought I was involved in gang activity or something when you lot came round to apologize about the O.W.L. incident and told her ‘We are the Marauders and we have important business with your daughter.’”

Lily relented, “I had to explain to her that you were basically 8 year old boys who somehow found your way home from Neverland. But then you all charmed your way into my house and now my mother is planning your Christmas jumpers. ”

“Well, we Marauders are incredibly charming and fit, don’t you know,” Sirius explained.

“Idiots, the lot of you, I don’t know why I waste my time,” Lily exhaled, but her smile was very telling.

Lily and Sirius becoming potions partners began to cause a multitude of problems for James Potter. He had to watch as his best mate became better mates with the girl of his dreams. He had to watch as Sirius kept that ‘that foul racist greasy headed git’ from speaking to Lily. And worst of all he had to watch as Lily and Sirius began to have inside jokes- most of which were at his expense.

One night in mid-October, James returned from quidditch practice to find Lily and Sirius inexplicably sitting in the common room wearing matching Christmas pajamas. If this wasn’t bizarre enough, Sirius had his head in Lily’s lap and he was instructing her on how to “do a proper French braid.”

James sat down across from them and was completely ignored until Lily said “ok- now switch.”

As they switched places and Sirius began to braid Lily’s hair, James was greeted with Lily’s smile and a “How was Quidditch, Potter?”

James ranted about his team and Lily gave some advice on “people management” and “leadership.” They chatted happily for the better part of an hour. Sirius was focused on braiding Lily’s hair into a series of complicated overlapping and intertwined knots.

As Sirius finished his masterpiece he cleared his throat and declared “You know Evans, I believe that your hair is as Beautiful as Life Itself, and as a man who also has hair that is as Beautiful as Life Itself- we should start a society.”

James knew that this wasn’t going to end well when Lily turned around to Sirius, grinning, and responded, “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Naturally we need to create requirements. Like length, quality of shine and of course-” she turned to James and grinned, “-neatness. Can’t have messy hair in our society.”

James started, “Oh for fucks sake-”

But Sirius stopped him “She’s right, James. I’m calling our first meeting to order and since you do not meet the requirements for membership, you have to leave”

“Right, right. Anyway Lily, back to what I was-” James started again but was once again interrupted, this time by Lily,  “Sorry Potter, Sirius is right. We have to work out these details. I’m sure you’re tired from Quidditch and you still stink. I’ll talk to you at breakfast- yeah?”

Grumbling to himself, James retreated to his dorm.

Lily Evans did not speak to James Potter at breakfast. In fact she and Sirius were missing all morning.

When James arrived at the potions classroom (10 minutes early thankyouverymuch) he discovered where his alleged mates Sirius and Lily had gotten to. He stood out of sight and eavesdropped.

“Thank you so much for sponsoring this society professor,” Lily cooed in a disgustingly sweet voice, “we think it will really help boost student confidence and inter-House unity”

“Yes,” Sirius added in his lawyer voice, “and shouldn’t the beautiful people of this school get the recognition they deserve?”

“Yes, yes of course,” Slughorn pontificated loudly, “I am very honored that you invited me to sponsor it. It is a shame you never got to see my hair that was so beautiful when I was younger but I am honored with the honorary membership. Your bylaws and membership all seem to be in order so I am happy to sign and forward to the headmaster. Now I’ll just take this paperwork and this pineapple and will be right back to start class.”

As soon as Slughorn’s retreated into his office, James witnessed Lily and Sirius do the most ridiculous victory dance.

Entering the room James stated, “I can’t believe you’ve made an official club.”

“SOCIETY!” was yelled back at him

“Alright alright society,” James acknowledged, “and because I know you need five members to make if official- I’ll join”

He was met with laughter.

“Sorry to break your heart James, but Lily here already found three other members,” Sirius announced proudly, “and mate, we told you last night you don’t meet the qualifications.”

Scoffing, James asked, “Who?”

“Membership is confidential,” Lily explained and patted James sympathetically on the shoulder.

Potions that day was the absofuckinglutelyworst shit James had ever endured.

Again, they had to use dingle berries and he swore the instructions kept changing.

“Seriously Remus, what the fuck are those?” James wailed as their potion turned blue and not ‘a pleasing shade of yellow’ that they were going for.

But Professor Slughorn was besotted with Lily and Sirius the entire class. Lily and Sirius’ potion was one shade of yellow lighter than James and was pronounced “More Beautiful Than Life Itself”

James was seriously considering just how terrible Azkaban might be for a double murder by lunch.

Her wrote to his mum for advice a week later when he discovered that REMUS FUCKING LUPIN was one of the Fabulous Original Five. James had only discovered this piece of information while looking for the fucking map in Sirius’ damn nest of a bed that was covered in parchment, scraps of bacon, dirty socks and jumpers James had never seen.

While James was sifting through the garbage to find the map he stumbled upon an folder written  in Lily’s hand labeled:

Official Hogwarts Society for Witches and Wizards with Hair as Beautiful as Life Itself Official TOP SECRET Business

Naturally, he opened the folder and began to peruse the documents.

He passed by the 23 page long bylaws and found the membership page.

On it was written

We the members of the Hogwarts Society for Witches and Wizards with Hair as Beautiful as Life Itself Hereby Solemnly Swear to never reveal our membership to anyone (especially James Fleamont Potter) 1.Sirius Black 2.Lily Evans 3. Thomas Gunn 4.Katie George 5. Remus Lupin

REMUS LUPIN.

REMUS LUPIN.

His mate. His best mate who had laughed about the stupid hair society was a member and a dirty dity liar. James hated all of his friends. So he did what any only child would do. He wrote to his mother to complain about his fucking traitor mates.

His mum, however was no help.

James,

It sounds like Sirius and Lily are just trying to irritate you. Just ignore them.

You do have fabulous hair, dear. It's just not as fabulous as Sirius’. I’ve never seen Lily’s but if it is half as fabulous as you’ve made it sound- I don’t blame them for excluding you.

Focus on something else.

Love,

Mum

Ignoring THE SOCIETY was easier said than done. The five members had grown to 25 by January and the anonymity thing apparently had gone out the window. James had bit his tongue about every single member, but when he overheard Nigel Fucking Babbington asking Thomas Gunn about the next SOCIETY MEETING, he lost it.

He ran into the boys dormitory and raged, “NIGEL CLIVE BABBINGTON, SIRIUS?!?! His hair is decent at best”

“It's the beard, mate,” Sirius lazily responded.

Somehow, James made it to April without killing Lily or Sirius or any other members of THE SOCIETY.

The only upside to Lily and Sirius starting THE SOCIETY was that it meant Lily was around a lot more. Whenever she and Sirius weren’t whispering on corners and giggling- she was having actual meaningful conversations with James.

Lily had even started accompanying James to quidditch practice and keeping stats for him. James learned she was absolutely mad about sports and he was intrigued by football, which Lily described in great detail and told him “I’ll take you to a match over the summer”.

The prospect of spending time alone with Lily over the summer kept him in a good mood for a week.

That was until on April 15th, he was awoken by Lily Evans bursting into their dorm and announcing, “SIRIUS GET UP YOU’RE LATE!”

There was much commotion and grumbling as Sirius quickly jumped out of bed and pulled on his shoes “Sorry Lily! I forgot to set my alarm”

“Forgot? This is official and important society business!” Lily was saying and holding up a massive wig

“Fuck Evans, The Sun Isn’t Even Up!” James complained

“I KNOW JAMES. That is the point. Sirius. If I get pulled into the fucking Great Lake again trying to induct Goofy-” Lily was raging

“Goofy?” James asked

“THE SQUID,” was the chorus reply

“You’re inducting the squid?” James asked and sat up

“YES- PAY ATTENTION. We had to name him so we could write his name on the roster. Sirius thought SUNSET was the most docile time for squids but it is SUNRISE and he needs to get his ass out of the door so we can get this done.

“WHAT A FUCKINMINUTE” James yelled, “I have been trying to ignore this fuckery and these shenanigans attached to THE SOCIETY since it began but this is the final straw. THE SQUID?!? FIRST OF ALL- IT IS BALD! IT IS NOT A MAMMAL! IT DOESN’T HAVE A BELLYBUTTON OR HAIR?!? HOW CAN YOU PUT THE FUCKIN SQUID IN THE CLUB-”

“SOCIETY” Lily and Sirius roared

“FUCK! I don't understand how you can induct a squid but not your best mate?” Jame finished totally exasperated

Offended, Lily explained, “We are giving Goofy a wig. And honestly, he’s been looking a little down in the dumps lately so we thought giving him hair and including him would boost his spirits. Now come on Sirius we are late!”

James watched, horrified and totally depressed as Lily and Sirius excited the dorm and Sirius said simply “Later mate.”

As James tried to go back to sleep he heard Remus say quietly “I fucking hate you all” and Peter’s response “I’m moving out tomorrow.”

As was his custom when he was upset, James ignored Sirius and Lily for two weeks. They didn’t seem to fucking notice though because they were too busy plotting something else that had to do with THE SOCIETY. He was sure he had seen them hiding invitations from him and all manner of decorations and trinkets.

When their probation period was over, James sat next to Lily at breakfast. “Ah, speaking to me again are we?” she implored as she handed him the bacon.

“Yes,” James responded, “your two weeks is up.”

“You are the most dramatic person in my life James Potter. And I say this as someone who is currently co president of a society with Sirius Black,” Lily started

“Please don’t bring up your rubbish cl-society with me, alright?” James pleaded

Rolling her eyes Lily changed subjects “Fine. I really want to yell at you about how Palmer needs to get his act together on the Quidditch Pitch anyway”

For the rest of the term, Lily and Sirius carefully avoided bringing up THE SOCIETY around James.

That was until after the final presummer postseason quidditch practice. As Lily was helping James put away the equipment she casually asked him, “So I know I’m not supposed to bring up THE SOCIETY around you but, well Sirius has planned this mad end of year gala with Slughorn’s help and it’s invitation only. I was wondering if you’d maybe like to go? With me? If not I mean I know you think its stupid but I thought-” she trailed off.

James’ mind was reeling. Holy fucking shit this was it. This was finally it. Lily Evans was finally fucking asking him. He’d been waiting so long and had been so patient.

He was finally getting invited into THE SOCIETY and he was going to be inducted at the end of the year gala!

“YES!” James said, a little too excitedly and then amended, “I mean sounds fun, what should I wear?”

Grinning, Lily started to explain the finer points of the semi formal gala and how she was excited because Slughorn had even managed to get permission to serve wine at the event.

They chatted happily on the walk back to the tower and James made a mental note to write to his dad to ask for some of that new potion so he’d look nice for his induction.

The night of THE GALA, James carefully styled his hair into a pompadour and finished I️t off with 4 sprays of THE NEW SLEEKEAZY’S LUCIOUS LOCKS SPRAY. He felt that his hair, did in fact look more fabulous than life itself. Until he entered the dorm room and was accosted by Sirius demanding, “What the fuck have you done to your hair?”

“I wanted to look nice for my induction tonight Sirius fuck off,” James explained

“Excuse me your WHAT?” Sirius asked as he narrowed his eyes

“Lily invited me to the gala tonight to join THE SOCIETY” James said, barely containing his excitement

“THE FUCK SHE DID. EXCUSE ME I HAVE TO YELL AT MY CO-PRESIDENT!” Sirius exclaimed as he walked out of the door

20 minutes later, James was finishing getting ready and making sure his robes looked neat and pressed when Sirius entered again looking a little stunned.

“Mate, you need to sit down for this” Sirius said grimly

“Oh shuttup Sirius you can’t veto it or some shit like that Evans asked me,” James responded irritably.

“Yes,” Sirius pronounced, “Lily Evans did ask you to go to the gala tonight. But not to be inducted. NAY-” and this he emphasized by putting his hand on his heart, “LILY EVANS ASKED YOU TO THE GALA AS HER DATE BECAUSE SHE FANCIES YOU.”

James sat down.

His heart was racing.

He couldn’t breathe

Trying to process James stated, “She….Lily….Lily Evans asked me on a date? And I said yes? And I didn’t even know it was a date...I….I…..”

“You’re really fucking thick sometimes James. I mean she’s been after you all spring. Following you around, going to quidditch. She told me she figured you were scared or something so she asked you.” Sirius explained to him slowly like a child

James was still panicking “She…..she…...she….I…..a date? But…..and the hair…..and”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Sirius said and vanished

Two minutes later James was still trying to process this when Lily Evans herself entered the dorm she stopped short and exclaimed,  “What the fuck did you do to your hair James?”

“I ….thought….induction...loook…..nice….not….date” James tried to explain and failed

Pinching the bridge of her nose Lily exhaled “God Bless……”

She suddenly stood up straight,, crossed over to him and kissed him.

Stunend, James didn't react but simply stared at her when she pulled away.

“Look James Potter. I fancy you. You’re going to get your hair out of that ridiculous pompadour. Get your shit together and then come down stairs and charm the shit out of me with some idiotic compliment. Then, we will go to the party. If you’re lucky, we’ll sneak a bottle of wine out and go snog behind some tapestry. You’ve got 15 minutes so please try to be on time,” her final orders given Lily swept from the room.

James had never been as prompt as he was that evening. 14 minutes later, he met Lily in the common and did in fact “charm the shit out of her”.  They went to THE GALA and Lily acted as if the pep talk in the dormitory hadn’t ever happened.

Later, behind the tapestry while she was running a hand through his hair Lily told him “You know, your hair is as beautiful as life itself. We were wrong”

[evangeline-perry]

Thorin x reader: more than just an everyday lass

Summary: you fell in love with thorin during your journey, but when the dragon illness struck him, he hurt you and you left. After the battle (he, fili and kili survive), he realizes what he did and tries to find you but can’t. It was unknown to him that you weren’t actually who you said you were, but of course a certain wizard knew. ps. You are kind of half hobbit, half elf. It’s more of an oc story, your name is Emilia, nicknamed Mia Pps. I turned you into mia thermopolis, just roll with it please XD

Warning: this fanfic is longer than I expected it to be XD Words: 2056

masterlist

Thorin POV

It has been weeks since the battle. And I still haven’t found her, but I will, eventually, even if it’s the last thing i’ll ever do. I couldn’t believe that I actually did what I did. I missed her, Emilia, my Mia I searched for hours on end, but her body was nowhere to be found on the battle field so I refused to believe she was dead, so she must have snuck away, back home. I had asked bilbo baggins where she lived but he said he did not know, ‘She only comes to visit the shire every once in a while, she never talked about herself.

*Flashback*

your POV

it’s been days, and all he does is waste away among that godforsaken treasure of his. He doesn’t sleep and hardly eats at all. We all gathered in the throne room where thorin sat on his throne, and again we tried to talk sense  to him, hopelessly. ‘Since when do we forsake our own people?’ Dwalin says. Thorin only continued to mutter to himself about the gold. ‘Many die in war, life is cheap. But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend.’ ‘you sit here is there vast halls’, Dwalin says, ‘with a crown upon your head and yet you are lesser now then you have ever been.’ ‘Do not speak to me as if I was some lowly dwarf lord, as if I were still, Thorin Oakenshield, I AM YOUR KING.’ ‘You were alw ays my king, you used to know that once. You cannot see what you have become.’ ‘Go’, thorin says, ‘get out. Before I kill you.’ ‘Thorin please’, I say, barely above a whisper, ‘don’t you see what this place is doing to you? It’s bewitching you! We are not your enemies. Thorin, we need to fight against our real enemies and those are right at our gates…’ ‘SHUT UP!!!’ he snapped at me, he has never snapped at me! ‘You have no say in this, woman. You were never one of us. You… were a burden.’ ‘What?’ Thorin looked at me, he had a scary look in his eyes, the same you would see in a madman. ‘Then again, I guess you never really belonged anywhere, did you? Half elf, half hobbit, people would even see you as a person, you are a creature.’ ‘Enough!’ I snapped, ‘How dare you say such a thing? I have saved you multiple times during the journey, don’t you dare tell me I am a burden, Thorin Oakenshield!’ Then something happened that I would have never imagined. My face shot to the side as Thorins hand came in contact with my cheek. My cheek stung as a single tear rolled down it. I looked him dead in the eye and the man I saw was someone I didn’t recognize anymore. ‘You are not the same man I met all those months ago, you are not the same man I grew close to during the journey, you are not the same man I fell in love with.’ The entire company gasped in surprise, this was as much of a surprise to them as it was to Thorin. It seemed as if Thorin broke through the dragon illness because he tried to take my hand but I wouldn’t let him. I ran away, straight to the main gate, that was the last time Thorin saw me.

*end of flashback*

thorin POV

We were in the library I was lost in thought while I should be listening to what Balin had to say. The main reason why I couldn’t focus was, books, libraries, they reminded my of Mia. The way her eyes lit up when she walked into a library, her smile when she browsed the shelves. However my thoughts were interrupted by fili and kili running through the door followed by Gandalf. ‘Uncle, you may want to see this’, fili said. He handed me a piece of parchment and I unfolded it:

(A/N: before you read the letter: yes I went there XD )

‘King under the Mountain, I hereby invite you to the coronation of my eldest daughter. The ceremony shall be at midsummer’s eve at sunhigh. It would be with deepest pride and greatest pleasure to welcome you into our home. We all hope to see you there. Sincerely, Queen Clarisse Renaldi, and soon-to-be Queen Emilia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi’

Soon-to-be queen Emilia?!?!? I looked around me in shock before passing the letter on to Balin who shared the same look as I had. ‘I’m guessing Emilia isn’t the lass we have come to know. Turns out Mia is more than just an everyday lass.’ Balin said (slightly amused might i add). ‘Midsummer’s eve, that’s in 3 weeks.’ kili said, ‘but the journey to the North takes is long especially in that territory.’ ‘We shall leave immediately, and the entire Company is coming along, I have searched for Mia for so long, now that we found her, I am not going to lose another minute.’ I said while walking out of the room, getting ready to leave as soon as possible.

no one’s POV

Thorin Oakenshield and the Company traveled the harsh conditions of the North in hopes of arriving in Winterfell on time. They had some trouble along the way, if they were lucky, they would arrive just in time for the ceremony. Which they were, they had just enough time to clean up and change into the proper clothing for the coronation. In the main hall he and the company pushed themselves to the front of the crowd, hoping to get a good view as to where you were.

your pov

Meanwhile a certain princess was in her chambers nervously passing, awaiting the upcoming ceremony. Even though i had been preparing for this moment my whole life,I could help but debate with myself whether or not I’d make a good ruler. The maids were helping me get into a gorgeous gown made by the finest seamstresses in Genovia. My grandmother come into my chambers, ‘Hello darling, now I know you have been preparing for your coronation but I want to go over one last lesson with you.’ I nodded thinking it would keep her thoughts at bay. ‘today we’ll be learning the art of the fan.’

(A/N: please excuse my laziness XD, the lesson comes down to that, except the grandma is the mother)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bE3mRxWwM4

It was almost sunhigh, after my grandmother left the maids came in to help me dress into a beautiful gown I will be wearing during the coronation. After that, Paolo came in to do my hair, it looked absolutely beautiful.

*skip*

Me and my grandmother came in from opposite sides of a two way staircase, when we both had walked down the stairs, a member of my grandmothers counsel, helped me onto the steps where the throne stood, where I now sat on while holding the traditional scepter and orb. After this he took the crown from my grandmothers head and put it on mine while another counsel member of the counsel spoke: ‘Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of Genovia, according to the statutes in parliament agreed on,and the respective laws and custom of the same? Will you, in your power, cause law and justice and mercy to be executed in all judgments?’ 

I swore: ‘I solemnly promise so to do.’ With that I stood, and walked through the middle of 2 lines of guards who rose their swords so I could walk under them. When I got to the front, the counsel member proclaimed:

‘Presenting Her Majesty Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, Queen of Genovia’

(A/N: just in case you don’t get what i explained, here is the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bf4M0GWjwnk)

that’s when I saw him, thorin oakenshield himself. And the entire Company along with him. I tried to conceal my surprise and keep a straight face, as my grandmother had taught me, to be honest, i barely could but I managed.

*behold, for I am the lady of time skips*

during the party, I was even more nervous than during the preparation of the ceremony. I constantly looked around me not to cross paths with the Company, or worse, Thorin. But that plan didn’t go as I had hoped, when I felt a hand on both my shoulders. I jumped and turned around to be greeted by the one and only Prince’s of Durin, Fili and Kili. They smiled at me but with a slightly sad look in their eyes. ‘Hello Mia, you look beautiful.’ fili began. ‘I must admit, Mia, even though you always looked like a princess to me, I would have never imagined you’d actually be one too, if I may be so rude.’ kili followed. ‘But, Mia…’ ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ both of them looked a bit hurt. ‘I didn’t think anyone would believe me… and Gandalf made me promise not to tell.’ ‘GANDALF KNEW’ the brothers yelled, getting some weird glances from the surrounding lords and ladies. ‘Yes, he knew.’ the boys looked at each other with a surprised look. ‘anyway Mia, we actually came to talk to you about something else’, kili said. ‘When you left’ fili continued, ‘Thorin completely came to his senses, he has been looking for you ever since.’ ‘He wanted to contact you contact you but he didn’t know where you were staying.’ ‘And when we got that letter, he was overjoyed that he had found you and now we wants to make up for what he did and said to you, Mia.’ ‘That’s true, amrâlimê.’ I suddenly heard from behind me. I turned around to find myself face to face with The King under the Mountain. I didn’t dare look him in the eye, I looked towards the ground. ‘We’ll give you some space’, the brothers said. ‘Mia, I am truly sorry for the things I said to you and that I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you, I swear by all the gods, it’s the last thing I would ever want to do. When you were gone I tried everything to try and find you but I couldn’t, I thought I had lost you forever. But when I read that letter and I had found you again, I knew I had to come here.’ I did not know what to say, nor did I look at him yet. I could hear him step closer to me, suddenly I felt his fingers under my chin, forcing me to look at him. His beautiful blue eyes locked on mine. ‘Please, Mia. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me? I love you with my whole heart and when I watched you leave that day, it was like a piece of me left me as well. I need you by my side, my love, please forgive me.’ His apology left me speechless, he loved me? During the journey he had never shown that kind of interest in me and now here he stood. I had to admit to myself, I never stopped loving him, and something told me I never would. Unable to say anything I let actions speak for themselves. I cupped his cheeks and kissed him, not a second passed until he kissed me back while holding onto my waist. From around us I could hear gasps from the surrounding lords and ladies, but I didn’t care, all I cared about was Thorin here with me, right now. After a while we had to part for air, Thorin whispered to me: ‘Will you be my queen, amrâlimê?’ ‘Yes, I will’, I whispered back.

[thatfantasybroad]

CHOICE PARALYSIS, AAAAHHHHH!

So Nytha is basically a slightly nicer, less intelligent Regina George with a sword and horns. She’s really squishy and gets into some serious scrapes bc of her sword... but she only has 50 HP ;A: (our dm does the point buy character build thing in conjunction with nonrandom HP... it hurts esp bc when I rolled her I rolled SO GOOD, but them’s the breaks!) I COULD try to find a necklace of constitution, but that’s certainly not guaranteed. I dunno what to do!

Full inventory listed below:

Hand crossbow 25 hand crossbow bolts 5 Silver hand crossbow bolts Component pouch

Sharp Tongue +3 Magic Rapier: When you deal damage to a creature with Sharptongue, you learn that creature's deepest insecurity. Sharptongue's wielder may immediately cast vicious mockery on the damaged creature, requiring no additional action and if they the creature's insecurity, the creature has disadvantage on their saving throw. Vicious Mockery can be cast in this way no more than once per round.

Glamoured Studded Leather While wearing this armor, you gain a +1 bonus to AC. You can also use a Bonus Action to speak the armor's Command Word and cause the armor to assume the appearance of a normal set of clothing or some other kind of armor. You decide what it looks like, including color, style, and accessories, but the armor retains its normal bulk and weight. The illusory appearance last until you use this property again or remove the armor.

Frost Resistance Necklace Thieves’ Tools: small file, 1 set lock picks, small handle-mounted mirror, narrow-bladed scissors, pair of pliers. 50' silk rope

Personal Effects: An oval locket with portraits of her family and Gilly inside. it has a carved insignia on the front of a flaming claw grasping a Lute. 4/9 fine handkerchiefs Silver Jewelry Mysterious copper coin pendant- earned at crit performance

Bag of Holding: Iakon (Party Sorcerer)- Sickle, Dagger, Shortsword, two draconic scrolls dwarven scrolls Finn (Party Cleric)- two draconic scrolls children's fiction series Persis (Party Rogue)- two draconic scrolls, Painting of a boy 10,000 gp Painting of a tiger 10,000 gp Meredith (Party Barbarian)- Folding Boat, draconic scroll in primordial, magic axe

Nytha: scrolls and books about the history of the Feywild from tower chest pouch containing: 2 ink bottles, 1 ink pen, 12 pieces Parchment, Sealing wax 1 foot Gold Ornate Trim from fey palace crushed golden babies from fey palace Silverware from fey palace 2 Pan Pipe sets Playing card set Fine clothes Dark, common clothes plus cloak Crowbar Perfume Soap & fine washcloth Cosmetics - minus powder Hooded lantern 1 oil flasks Torch Flint and Tinder Steel Mirror leather armor 4 books from Duckbill's lair 1 small painting of a boy in white clothes worth HECKIN MONEY (50,000 gp) 1 rapier Cook's Utensils Ancient music notation- lost to the dragon by crit performance (regained with the return of the marble mouth?) Marble mouth containing the performance of the song from duckbill's lair Playing card set Lute Writing set Paper unicorn horn unicorn tail unicorn mane 2 pairs heavy iron boots 2 sickles Giant's heavy bow Copy of Contract sealed with gryphon claw locket [ I (the undersigned) do hereby solemnly swear to deliver any and all growth, offspring or produce of this Fey specimen of White Bishop Flower Plant (diagram included) to Karlista Marianna Eugenia Ignisermot (Heretofore referred to as KMEI), owner of The Scorched Claw, 584b Pertelote Lane, on the Island of Kallasia. (Portrait Included with Claw insignia stamped below) Should the plant fail to reproduce (or fail to show any signs of reproducing) within forty days of the date this contract is signed (Dated here), the original White Bishop Plant must be delivered to KMEI. Failure to maintain the health and wellbeing of this specimen will result in a favor owed, to be determined by KMEI upon review of this contract by KMEI, owed to KMEI. Determination of said favor will result in an ad hoc page to be negotiated and signed by (the undersigned), an additional impartial witness and KMEI. In the event of KMEI's death, absence, loss of sound mind, or interplanar travel, or other unexplained circumstance preventing delivery, all references to KMEI may be supplanted by the following individuals and only the following individuals: (Portraits included) Glory Iaxemera Rose Ignisermot, Torzin Justice Iaxemedius Ignisermot, Thyrius Eugene Justicar Ignisermot, Iaxes Marius Torzien Ignisermot, Adelinde  Iaxana Lillith Torzette Ignisermot, Nythenia Karlisse Justicia Rose Ignisermot. ] All three copies signed by newly anointed cleric guy, space case druid lady, and Nythenia "Nytha" Karlisse Justicia Rose Ignisermot, one copy left with each signing party.

Old: Rakshasa armor (Given to Finn) 2 shorts sword from satyrs (given to Halflings) 2 short bows from satyrs (given to Halflings) Belt pouch containing: 25 GP(criminal bg) [currently ransomed to Goblins] Silver medallion with black jewel- 12 seconds of going to the material plane/feywild (given to Persis) 5 Handkerchiefs (one given to a goblin, one given to a hobgoblin to give to Sprock, one given to Persis, one in the mouth of a worker... which she never recovered, one given to the babe of babe's rock)

Get back: 25 gold pouch from goblins >:(