#i’ve always called him sir knight in my head like he was called that in the book but i don’t think that’s true… oh well

[meta-knight-is-bisexual]

SCOPOPHOBIA WARNING BELOW

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okay hi dog man fandom i drew this while waiting for my scarlet shedder to arrive in the mail cause i was really excited <<33 has literally no connection to the new book but dw about it

anyways do you ever think dog man might like to be called greg (again)

[eddiesxangel]

Eddie’s Fantasy | Knight!Eddie x Princess!Reader

Semi proof read. Based off this blurb

2.4k

CW: Roleplay, reader addresses Eddie as 'sir' but not in a dom way, more of a respect kinda thing... it goes with the roleplay, you'll get it. Pure porn with some plot, oral (m+f), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding/cream pie, f!reader.

Needy kisses were passed between the both of you. You and Eddie sat on your bed, his hands gripped your hips, guiding them back and forth over his strained cock that was trapped beneath the black fabric of his jeans.

"Tell me your fantasies, baby," cooed him as you twirled a piece of his hair and sat in his lap.

The sex is always great and amazing, but you feel like Eddie is holding back on you; there is something he wants to share with you but is too timid to admit it. You’ve only just started dating. You’re at the stage where he just asked you to be his girlfriend, and you can’t keep your hands off one another.

"I-I-" he stutters as his eyes drift to the book sitting on the opposite side of your bed.

You follow his eyes and look over to see the book you had been reading before Eddie came over. You observe the cover he is looking at; a knight carrying a princess as he saves her from her capturers.

"Oh, baby, you want me to dress up like a pretty princess?" You smile.

Eddie nods his head profusely, mouth agape.

"Are you going to be my knight in shining armour? Do you want me to reward you for saving me from the dragon?" you ask with no judgment in your tone.

You hear Eddie curse under his breath as his chest rises and falls rapidly.

"Have my tits all pushed up in a pretty pink corset for you?" You lean in to brush your plush lips against his skin. "You wanna watch how they bounce as I ride my knight in shining armour?"

"Y-yes," he stutters.

"Okay, baby, I can be your damsel in distress"

You had it all planned out: You found your old Halloween costume, which you embellished a little with a pink corset like you promised, some petticoats for volume, and some extra jewels to really sell it. You curled and pinned your hair with smaller braids, just as he liked it.

You arranged to meet him at eight. As you were fixing your makeup, you heard a light knock on the door. You don't need to let him in, as he has his own key.

“Hey babe,” he calls out into the empty living room, seeing you were not in sight.

“Eddie! Quickly im in here!” You say with urgency.

You can hear his sock-clad feet pad down the hardwood floors as he rushes in to investigate, but he stops dead when he sees what you’re wearing.

You quickly turn, and he can see everything, the pink and blue lacy gown adorned with a lace corseted bodice that your breasts are pushed so far up his dick was hard in an instant. He loved the dainty curls that fell by your pretty face. You looked like a fairy princess, and he swore that’s when he fell in love with you.

“Oh, Sir Knight, thank goodness you are here!” You flung yourself into his arms. I never thought I would be saved!” You cupped his confused face and kissed him passionately.

“Baby, what is?—”

“Shhhhh, the dragon is so very hungry, they said I haven't much time.” You look around your room frantically.

“Ohhhhhhh!” And then Eddie gets it, and holy shit is he excited.

You give him a look to not break character.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “I’ve travelled far and wide trying to track you down, Princess. It’s been an awful long journey.” He takes your hands in his and brings them up between your two chests to kiss the back of it.

“How could I ever repay, Thee?” You bat your lashes at him.

“It is my duty as your knight to protect you, Your Highness.”

“There must be something?” You creep closer and closer to him, letting your hands twirl a loose tendril.

“Well, there might be one thing,” he chides.

“Yes, Sir Knight?” You speak as you lean into his neck, gently brushing away his curls so you can leave a soft kiss on his neck.

“Shit, that’s good,” he whispers as your mouth travels lower to his collar bone and your hand glides down to his already erect penis.

“I would like to express my gratitude, Sir. Can I?” You start palming him through his cotton pants.

“Y-yes, Princess, I’ll do anything for you.” God, he was such a simp.

You give a satisfied smirk and sink to your knees. Your dress pillows out, and Eddie can’t help but moan, seeing your breasts falling out of the corset at this angle.

“Fuck baby, you’re too good to me; I am not worthy.” he cups your face, and you nuzzle into it. You’d do anything for him.

“Anything for my knight in shining armour.” You bite your lip, gazing up at him; your doe eyes don’t break contact until your hands finally help his cock out of its cotton confines.

You hear Eddie take a sharp breath as your glossy lips touch his reddened tip. You can taste the salty pre cum as you place it in your mouth.

Eddie wants to grip your head so badly in his hands but doesn't dare, knowing you spent all this time preparing for him. To be his pretty Princess. Just the thought alone was going to make Eddie cream his pants.

Eddie watches, not wanting to blink; he can't miss a moment of this. Your perfectly outlined glossy lips swallowing down his cock, your beautiful eyes gazing up at him lovingly.

You break eye contact when you feel Eddie's bush tickle your nose. Trying to slowly breathe, you swallow down and hear your knight moan from above. Slowly, you pull back, tasting every inch of him on your tongue before you push your head back into him at a much quicker pace.

You pump your hot wet mouth on Eddie's cock, enjoying every minute. You loved having this hold over your boyfriend, as you were the only thing he was focused on in the world.

"You suck my cock so good," he hisses, trying not to cum just yet.

With a pop, you release his cock from your mouth and replace it with your hand as you move lower to suck on his balls. No longer caring about your makeup, you smear your face into the wet skink of his undershaft, needing to worship him like he deserves.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" Eddie was so close, your hand was jerking his so smooth and fast he almost exploded, but he stopped you just in time.

"I need you, princess, please." He begged.

"How do you want me?" You stand back up, and Eddie flips you around so you're facing the bed. You walk over together, and Eddie instructs you to lie down on your back while he undresses.

He gently guides your head down on the pillow, ever the gentleman.

"Need to treat you like the Princess you are." he hums as he gently peels up your skirts layer by layer to see you're not wearing anything underneath.

Eddie could see your pussy was already soaked, his mouth watered, and as he got closer, he could smell your arousal, which drove him insane every time.

The sweet aroma filled his nostrils; he had to taste you. Slowly, his soft lips trailed the inside of your thigh, leaving small bites to claim you as his. He crept closer and closer until the small hairs from your mound tickled his nose.

You hear Eddie take a deep breath and inhale sharply as you watch his eyes flutter shut, finally satiated.

Your eyes are closed, soaking up the moment; you feel a hand trail up and squeeze your breast as the other circles your entrance. You move your hand to cup the one that’s cupping your breast and guide it so the fabric releases your nipple.

Eddie loved your taste so much he could bathe in it. His sloppy kisses make your mind go blank as his saliva and the mix of your slick coat your inner thighs, the bed sheets and his face. You open your eyes and can see his face is glistening. You're absolutely dripping for him.

"B-baby! Baby! Baby! Baby!" You chant as your breath quickens. He loves seeing your chest rise and fall as he looks up at you through his lashes. Your sweet moans are his newfound favourite genre of music.

His tongue flicking over your clit over and over and over. Nipping and sucking and swirling as your wriggle beneath him. His strong large hands have your hips pinned down as you try and grind your pussy on his face. His fingers are diving into your plush hips, and the rough stubble from his chin and upper lip only makes the feeling much better.

Your orgasm hits you and your cum it's like liquid gold on his tongue. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to lap up your cum leaking out of your hole catching every. last. drop.

"Such a good job for me," he hums into you, sending waves of aftershocks through you. You gasp into his eyes, swearing you’ve never felt so loved, even if you have yet to speak those three words to one another.

“I need you, please, Sir.”

Eddie has totally forgotten about the roleplay until now. He was so consumed, pussy drunk, that your words only had him aching for you all over again.

“Time to show me your gratitude, Princess.”

You sit up and make room for Eddie to lie down on the bed because your usual position was for you to ride him. He loved to watch your tits bounce, to latch on your nipples while you bounce on his cock like his little bunny.

You go to take off your skirts because Eddie loves to watch as he disappears inside of you, but this time, Eddie stops you from undressing.

“No, please leave it on.” He asked while stroking his cock. You watch as his big hands grip the shaft, only making your pussy clench around nothing. No longer could you wait; the anticipation was too much.

Bunching up your skirts the best you can, Eddie guides your hips to be aligned with his shaft. He nods, and you sink down while he pushes himself up into you.

The sight before him is enough to have him cumming instantly. Your tits are so far pushed up that they’re basically falling out of your top, your head is flung back, exploding your neck, daring him to mark, your dress falls as you grip his shoulder for balance, and he is enveloped fully inside of you.

“Fuck you’re so tight.”

“You’re so big, I’m so full,” you moan as you raise yourself on your knees so you can ride him.

“You’re so perfect, my perfect Princess,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in so he can press his face in your chest. You start off slow, building up speed with each bounce.

A loud moan leaves your throat in reply to his praises.

Eddie is consuming you; even if he’s under you, you’re being devoured by him. His hands, his mouth, his thick long cock filling you so good you’re about to cry from the pleasure.

“Gotta take what’s mine,” he grits before he pushes the both of you up, and you land on your back, and he’s hovering over you. Quickly he pounds into you, eyes not veering from your chest as he watches your tits bounce.

“Are you mine, Princess?” His hips slap so hard into you that you feel his balls slap you with each hard thrust.

“Yours! All yours!”

Eddie swears his heart melts when the admission leaves your lips. He’s always waited for a girl like you to come around. Now you’re here, doing this for him and enjoying it? He never thought he’d be here with you.

“More,” you moan

“Not good enough for you, your Highness?”

“I-I-I,” you can’t speak, but Eddie knows what you need.

“Gonna fill up this pussy so good.”

Before you know it, you’re being flipped around, and your head is pressed so far into the mattress your neck is craned, and it hurts, but you pay no mind because Eddie has you propped up on your knees, your dress is flipped up, and you’re all spread out, and he is ravaging you with his mouth once more.

His nose pressed into your ass as he tongue fucks you.

Your moans are muffled by the plush pillows your face is stuffed into. A small wet patch is forming on it from your drool. Your eyes are rolled back, and you're in absolute heaven.

Eddie's hot wet tongue runs up your soaked slit before he pulls back with a moan before he breathes you in as his face is drawn to your pussy like a magnet.

“More” you need his cock once again. Nothing will be able to satisfy your needs.

“You want more Princess? You want me to fill up this pussy so good your belly will swell with my seed?

“Yes!” Your white knuckle grip on the pillow almost tears it apart.

"Mmmmm, that's my good girl. Tell me what you need. " he encourages as your mains rip from your throat.

“You, My Knight! You, you, you!” Your pussy clenches over nothing once more.

You're so close that you feel it building up more and more until you break. Eddie feels you quivering beneath him, and he pulls away and quickly inserts himself before you feel a sharp slap on your ass.

“Eddie!”

Nothing pleases him more than to hear you blissed out because of him.

“Oh, Princess!” He cried, flinging his head back, fucking you with reckless abandon.

Your legs almost give out as your body shakes with ecstasy. You can’t hold it any longer; everything is Eddie, everything is beautiful. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You hadn’t even released. You were changing his name as your pussy clamps down on his cock like a vice.

Uneven thrusts continuously pound into you until you feel the grip of Eddie’s fingers dig into your flesh so hard as he cums deep inside of you, you squeak, and Eddie loosens his grip immediately.

“Need you,” you slur mindlessly.

“You got me, Princess.” You both collapse on the bed, and Eddie's weight is comforting.

“And they lived happily ever after?” You try and roll over to look at Eddie; he pushes up and but so you can roll back over.

He kisses your nose. “And they lived happily ever after.”

Tagging some mooties: @jamdoughnutmagician @littlexdeaths @voyeurmunson @ceriseheaven @munson-blurbs

[augustinewrites]

happy diluc day!

like every year, you’ve placed yourself at the head of diluc’s birthday party planning committee. 

and like every year, diluc pretends not to notice you and adelinde giggling and scheming whenever he leaves the room. (it’s his house, and he’s the darknight hero. not much gets past him.)

it’s not as if he feels the need to intervene. you know him well, and know how to plan a party to his liking. not overly gaudy or crowded, with good food, good drinks, and good people. 

the guest list is always impressive. you - and by proxy, diluc - have made a lot of friends from beyond mondstadt the past few years. 

you hug each one as they come in. the gentleman from wangsheng funeral parlour, the yanshang teahouse owner, the lord and lady of the kamisato clan, and the akademiya scribe, to name a few. diluc shakes each of their hands and thanks them for coming as he welcomes them into his home. 

the traveler also makes an appearance. diluc greets she and paimon heartily, glad to see old friends. 

at least until she mutters, “i’m sorry.”

he glances down at her, confused. “sorry for wh—”

“hey, girlie! wait up!”

he immediately stiffens when he glances up to see who’s called out to her, and you grab diluc’s arm, keeping him grounded and rooted in place when the fatui harbinger comes trotting up to him.

“master diluc, right?” he asks, grinning as if he isn’t seconds from death. “happy birthday, sir!”

“what is he doing here?” he demands, looking between you and the traveler. 

you wring your hands tightly. “i— i just gave lumine a plus one, i didn’t think that she’d bring—” you look to lumine, who sighs.

“we’d just finished our weekly foray at the golden house and he just invited himself along…”

“that i did!” the harbinger grins, casually throwing an arm around her. “i’ve always wanted to meet the infamous diluc ragnvindr. you know the fatui still tell stories of the red storm?”

“i suppose i didn’t do my job if there are still people around to tell stories,” he scoffs. 

“well, you did something right, because if it weren’t for you, i would have never gotten the eleventh seat!”

diluc can feel you fix him with a hesitant gaze. to this day, he’s only shared a fraction of what he’d done during his time…abroad. 

the harbinger is lucky you’re here, keeping diluc’s hands away from his throat. 

“don’t worry, master diluc!” paimon chimes in, obviously attempting to dissolve the tension in the foyer. “paimon will keep her eyes on him and make sure that he stays out of trouble!”

“you’ll be neck deep in mint jelly in a few minutes, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” the traveler scolds. 

“don’t worry,” the harbinger says, holding his hands up in surrender. “if i wanted to do anything nefarious, i would have already. i’m just here for my girlfr—”

“you’re not my boyfriend.”

“not yet.”

“not even in your dreams.”

“like i said, not yet.” 

diluc watches the two in confusion. what in teyvat was he seeing right now?

“excuse us,” you cut in, interrupting their bickering and smiling as you tug diluc away from the group and into the linen closet.

“are you okay?” you check, a deep frown on your face. “i’m really sorry, i didn’t think a harbinger would show up. i can kick him out—”

“it’s fine,” he tells you. “there’s no need to make a scene. it’s highly unlikely he would try anything here, surrounded by the knights, and with so many high ranking people around. and if the traveler trusts him…” 

your nod is followed by an awkward silence, one diluc feels the need to break. “listen, what he said about snezhnaya–”

“diluc, it’s okay–”

“it’s not, i need to be honest–”

“no, you don’t,” you cut him off firmly. “i’m not going to make you tell me what you did, and i’m certainly not going to make you justify it. especially if whatever you did means that you’re here with me right now, celebrating your birthday and not– not buried under the snow somewhere in snezhnaya.” 

he doesn’t think you’ve realized you’re crying, tears gathering on your lash line as you turn away. so diluc pulls you in, letting you cling to him, using his thumb to rub small circles across the back of your neck.

“let’s get out of here,” you mutter. “somewhere harbinger free, just for a few minutes.”

“where do you want to go?”

“every year i have adelinde set something up just outside the vineyard,” you admit with a small smile. “i know kaeya and venti drive you crazy sometimes, so i thought just in case…”

“that’s smart,” he smiles. you really have thought of everything. “should we really leave in the middle of my birthday party?”

the two of you collapse into a fit of giggles, diluc looping and arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"ready?" you ask as you grip the door handle. he nods, and you both run through the winery sneak away from the party and into the vineyard for some very much needed alone time.

BONUS

“oh no. oh no no no,” lumine mutters when mona introduces her to her plus one: a vahumana scholar from sumeru whom she’d been corresponding with as of late. 

“something the matter, traveler?” scaramouche aka the balladeer aka wanderer, aka hat guy asks, sending her a smirk that she wants to wipe clean off his face. his amusement only grows when he sees his former coworker by her side. 

“hey there,” childe greets. then, after staring rather shamelessly, “you look…familiar. have we met?”

[peterman-spideyparker]

Mr. Russo (Billy Russo x Secretary!Reader)

Author’s Note: I’ve had this fic and other Billy Russo stories in my drafts for ages, and I figured while I was working on other Daredevil and Moon Knight fics, I’d throw in some of these older ones that I’ve never posted. I think the original intention was for this to be longer and a multi-part series, but I don’t like that idea anymore. I cut about a thousand words, and I might include those as a bonus separate part--I’m not sure yet. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Working for Billy Russo wasn’t a challenge like most people would expect. You know how to do your job and how to do it well. One late night of working allows something about your past come to the surface, changing the trajectory of the relationship you share with your boss.

Warnings: Fluff, Billy softening up, angst (mentions of crappy experience in New York and the foster care system/Billy Russo being brooding and sad/hurt and rage/delicious tension), implied smut, cursing, mentions of addiction (drugs/alcohol)

Other Characters: Frank Castle

Word Count: 5,495

Another day in the books. Although everyday at Anvil is never the same, it can get a little monotonous. You answer the phone, respond to emails, draw up contacts, and do whatever Mr. Russo needs.

Oh, Mr. William Russo.

Intelligent, suave, cultured, and the definition of sex on two legs.

He works so hard in his business, and he cares about what he does. Anything that you can do to make his day less stressful, you’ll do it, and that definitely came in handy today, even if it still is a late night for him. You catch a glimpse at the clock on your screen—7:14pm. With a tired sigh, you hear him shuffle some papers around and push his chair out, moving a short distance to slide on his coat. You hear the click of his Italian leather shoes move closer to where you sit, and you smell his expensive cologne in the gentle breeze he brings by. You watch him as he walks with a purpose when he stops in his tracks, turning around to address you. “Do you ever even go home?” he asks.

“Sir?” you ask, unsure where he’s going with this.

“You’re always here before I get here—no matter how early—and you always stay after me. I just don’t get it.”

“I do my job,” you tell him. “It’s that simple. I do it, and I make sure that I do it well.”

“You also deserve a break—a life. Don’t you have friends around to go out for a drink or anything?”

“No, actually,” you admit. “Last friend I made in New York was one from when I got here. She then took 180 dollars from my wallet and ran away, making me scrape by for food for the rest of that week. My family isn’t nearby, either, if that was your next question. Work—this—is all I have, really.” Oh God, do you sound pathetic.

“Where is your family?” Mr. Russo asks, slowly moving back to your desk.

You scrunch up your bottom lip in a frown and shake your head. “I don’t know. I grew up in the system. I’m assuming whoever my parents are, they live in the Boston area, since that’s were I grew up.”

His expression softens to something to one that you have only seen twice before. It’s not quite pity, but it’s deeper than sadness. “You grew up in the system?” he asks softly.

You give a small nod. “It changes you pretty quickly.”

“It does.” His lips part like he wants to say something more, but he presses them in a tight line and sticks his hand in his jacket pocket, his eyes swirling with a mix of emotions. 

“Is there anything I can do for you before you leave, Mr. Russo?”

He blinks a few times before he shakes his head. “N-No,” Billy breathes. “Have a nice night, (Y/N).”

“You too, sir.”

There’s flowers on your desk when you walk in the next morning. How are there flowers on your desk?

“Hello?” you call into the office, sliding pepper spray out of your purse. “Anyone here?” Dead silence. Nothing looks out of place except for the bouquet, and after a quick sweep of the office, you see that you are alone. You look through the flowers and don’t see any card. Logging into your computer, you quickly pull up surveillance to see who delivered these. Your jaw drops when you see Mr. William Russo himself walk in at four in the morning with the same giant vase of flowers to your right. You lean back in your chair, your brain not really comprehending what you just saw. After a few minutes, you move towards the beautiful assortment of white gardenias, yellow lilies, red tulips, and magenta lilacs. You stick your nose to the flowers and take in a perfume of scents that make your chest happy and bring a smile to your face, and that smile remains on your face as you get to work and organize Billy’s day.

“Mornin’,” Billy says with a nod, walking a few hours later, not acknowledging the assortment on your desk.

“Morning,” you respond as he moves closer. “Thank you,” you say just before he enters his office. You don’t need to turn around to know exactly where he is—about a stride and a half from being in the doorway to his office, his right foot mid-step. “They’re beautiful.”

He doesn’t respond, but he takes a minute before he continues his gait into his office. 

The rest of the day proceeds as it normally does: you respond to client emails, answer the phones, do other office work, and hand Billy files, briefing him before his meetings.

“Have a nice night, (Y/N),” he says, adjusting his scarf on his peacoat as he walks past your desk.

“You too, sir,” you say. “And remember you have a 7:30 meeting tomorrow morning at the Four Seasons with Thaddeus Ross to discuss security for the SHIELD weapons conference.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” he says, turning to look at you, flashing you the faintest of smiles. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, considering you built this company from the ground up, I think you’d manage.” His smile grows a hair bigger. “Safe travels, Mr. Russo.”

The next few weeks proceed as they usually do, but you are dumbfounded yet again when you walk in Monday, about a month after you found the flowers on your desk.

“Morning,” Billy says, placing a coffee cup on your desk as he walks by. “Sweet cream cold brew, right?”

You turn in your chair and look at him, confusion and surprise written all over your face.

“Yeah,” you say. You notice he has a hot cup for himself in his hands. “You hate Starbucks.”

“I needed some extra caffeine this morning,” he shrugs.

“So the ‘shit-water jet fuel’ is what you were craving this morning?”

He nods, taking a sip of the drink in his hand. “Exactly,” he answers after he swallows. You can tell he still hates the brew.

“Well, thank you for thinking of me,” you say. “If you find yourself needing some more caffeine, just let me know and I’ll make a pot.”

His face says I’ll be taking you up on that in five minutes, but his lips say, “Thanks, (Y/N).”

The next morning, there is a bouquet of blush colored peonies, white gardenias, and purple roses on your desk.

“Vultures today, huh?” Billy says as he comes out of his office and to your desk, placing some outgoing mail in your organizer, adjusting some of the flowers in the assortment of roses, chrysanthemums, and asters. “That phone hasn’t stopped ringing all morning.”

“It’s the political season,” you hum as you shift your gaze upward. “All the big wigs want the best security money can buy. You’ve made it clear that you and your people are the ones for that job.”

“You know how to flatter a man,” he chuckles, shaking some nuts you’re snacking on in his hand before plopping them in his mouth. 

“While you’re here,” you say, picking up a few slips of paper, handing them to him in an ordered fashion. “These are those calls back you were waiting for, these are inquiries from the three biggest politicians running for Senate, this is a message from Frank wanting to know if you’re on for dinner at Karen’s, and these are the Ulrich files you were waiting on.”

“Thank you, paperwork Santa,” he says, moving his gaze to quickly examine what is in front of him. “And here I thought it was gonna be a slow day.”

“Around here? Unlikely,” you grin.

He is about to say something more when he turns his head to the ringing of his direct line in his office. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “We’ll talk more later.”

You turn back to your computer in astonishment. We’ll talk more later? Is this the same Billy Russo that hired you? And does he mean casual talk or work talk? He would have made it clear, wouldn’t he?

“Anvil, this is (Y/N),” you say as you continue typing a contract on your desktop.

“(Y/N), hi,” you hear Mr. Russo say on the other end of the line.

“Is everything alright, sir?” you ask, spinning around in your chair and watching your boss  give you a little wave through the industrial loft windows.

“We’ve been over this, you can call me Billy,” he reminds. “We’ve known each other long enough.”

“Sorry, it’s a force of habit.” You have to suppress a blush. “What’s going on?”

“I just got off of a call about that veteran’s fundraiser,” he says, and you shift to flip through the calendar.

“The one on Saturday night?”

“Exactly. They asked me to present an award and introduce a speaker that night. So in addition to networking and schmoozing, I’m gonna need to do some more things.”

“Let me know what you need to have ready, and it’ll be good to go by Friday night.”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d come with me Saturday. With my upgrade in duties, they gave me a plus one.”

What? “I appreciate the invitation, but I don’t know if I have anything black tie like that,” you say. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll have it all taken care of. So can I take that as I yes?”

“Y-Yes,” you stutter. “And—.”

“Perfect, you’re the best,” he says, having up the phone with a click.

Did your boss just ask you out? Or is this really just a work engagement?

When you come home from work on Friday, you see a black dress bag hanging off a garment rack with black bag hanging next to it. Locking up and putting down your things on the table by your door, you slowly move over to it.

“Told you I had it taken care of,” the note reads on the bag.

“What did you do, Russo?” you breathe, undoing the zipper. Inside, there is a stunning pine green gown. You look at the label and your mouth drops open: Oscar de la Renta. Taking it out of the bag, you see that it has a v-back, but has fabric coming off of each shoulder to give it a kind of cape effect. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion when you dare look over at the jewelry bag on the right next to it, seeing Harry Winston embossed in gold lettering. Carefully, you take it off of the hangar and peak inside, seeing three boxes neatly arranged. Placing it on your breakfast bar, you pull out the large necklace box, opening it to reveal both a sparkling diamond necklace and its matching earrings. Shocked, you pull the other two boxes out and find that they are the corresponding bracelet and ring. As you look down in disbelief, you catch a Louis Vuitton shoe box at the bottom of the rack.

You sit down on the barstool, lightheaded about the luxury that is around you. As if on cue, you see Billy’s contact light up on your phone.

“I’m assuming you’ve seen what you’ll be wearing tomorrow?” he says after you pick up.

“It’s way too much,” you say. “I appreciate it, but all this is more—it’s too much.”

“It fits the event,” he shrugs off. “It’s a ritzy event full of high-rolling investors, contributors, and other people within the top one per cent. Trust me, you’ll fit right in.”

“I just . . .”

“It’s a lot?” You swear he’s smiling like a devil on the other end.

“A hell of a lot.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the jewelry is on loan,” he says. “But the dress and shoes are yours to keep. Oh, and before I forget, you have an appointment to get your hair and nails done tomorrow with Donna at the Marigold Spa. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before your brain can think to ask him more, he is off the line, leaving you stunned in your apartment. 

“Who is it?” you call from your apartment, responding to the rap at the door.

“Your chariot has arrived,” Billy says through the wood.

“I’m almost ready,” you say, nearly falling over as you try to put on the heels standing up. “Come in! It’s open.” You hear the door open and shut, and the click of expensive shoes against the vinyl floor.

“You know, for someone that works for a security company, leaving the door unlocked isn’t secure,” he teases.

“I knew you’d be over soon and I was still getting ready,” you say. “Just a courtesy.”

“To robbers.”

You chuckle as you successfully gain your footing in one of the shoes. “There’s water in the fridge if you’re thirsty,” you start as you slide on the other shoe, throwing a few last minute things in your clutch, and taking one final look at yourself in the mirror.

“I’m good," you hear him chuckle in a low timbre as you clack your way out of your room. “Thank you, though.”

“Alright, I’m all set to go,” you say as you enter the main living space.

Billy turns toward you and stands stock still. His eyes slowly look over your body from head to toe. It’s as if he’s drinking you in.

“Wow,” he finally says, his dark eyes twinkling in the lights of your kitchen.

“Well, the guy that picked it out has really good taste,” you say with a small grin and a blush rising up from your neck to your cheeks. “Thank you.”

He continues to look at you for a little while longer before he realizes that he’s staring.

“These are for you,” he says, holding out a bouquet of burgundy, cream, and lavender roses. “A little thank you for agreeing to come.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say, smelling them. You move to find a vase, getting the flowers settled before walking back towards Billy.

He puts out his arm for you to take.

“Shall we?”

“I still can’t figure out how you manage to do it,” you say as you walk beside Billy after he schmoozes the last of the big-wigs in tuxedos.

“Do what?” Billy asks with a lift of his eyebrow.

“Work so well with these upper-crusty people. Some of them very clearly just a face at this fundraiser and don’t care the same way you do. I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Unfortunately, that’s just what the business is sometimes,” he sighs. “But then I remember that Anvil gives veterans an outlet when they get home—a legitimate career. Then it makes the schmoozing and pretending to care about their Hamptons houses easier.”

“That’s a great way to think about it,” you say softly. 

“Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

Instead of walking to the direction of your table, Billy leads you to the edge of the dance floor.

“Care do dance?” Billy smiles.

“I can’t promise that I won’t step on your toes,” you say, feeling a blush prick at your cheeks and your ears.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have the band play something slow.”

You wouldn’t be surprised if his Marine-trained ears could hear how hard your heart is beating. 

“How can I say no to that, then?” you say with a small smile, your mouth suddenly very dry.

Billy takes your hand and leads you in. As if the band knows, the song shifts to something slow. Billy holds one of your hands in his while the other rests on the small of your back, his palm spread wide, securely holding you as you both move across the floor.

“And here I was thinking you had two left feet,” he grins.

“Well, I guess it helps that it’s not a formal ballroom dance,” you blush. Seriously, he has to know how fast your heart is racing right now.

“Is this what you thought you’d be doing with your life?” Billy asks as you slowly move in a circle. “Being a secretary, dealing with executives and government officials, and going to charity fundraisers?”

“Isn’t it every little girls dream?” you smirk, quirking an eyebrow.

He chuckles, twirling you to the music before he pulls you back into frame.

“No, really,” Billy whispers. “What did you want to be when you were younger?”

You think about it, but only briefly. “An author, I think. With all the time I spent in the system, I always tried to figure out how I could get out or what it would be like when I did. I’d just write about it. It moved from that to creating these different worlds and different people that were everything that I wasn’t and everything that I couldn’t be. Those are what made me happy. Scholarships from those stories is what got me through college to get my undergrad.”

There’s something soft in his eyes, tender even, as he listens to you talk about your childhood dream. It’s soul-churning and completely devastating in every sense of the word.

“What about you?” you return. “I’m assuming that the military wasn’t six-year-old Billy’s dream.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he admits. “I wanted to be a baseball player. But there were things that happened when I was a kid . . .” He clears his throat. You’ve touched a nerve.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—.”

“No, it’s okay. Saying that my childhood was shitty is an understatement, but it made me who I am and brought me here. In a way, I think the Marines was the only thing that made sense for me.” He gives you a gentle smile, pushing away the dark cloud that emerged on his face. “And just think: without it, we wouldn’t have met. And I don’t know about you, but our time together makes me happier.”

Your heart stops and leaps into your throat. He has to just mean as a coworker—maybe just even someone who isn’t an ex-Marine that he gets to see to break up his environment. You can’t let your mind go to these conclusions. It’d just be a disappointment, and he’s my boss. Still, you find yourself unable to look away from his hypnotic gaze, the tenderness in his expression making you melt. The song stops and he drops the frame, and you let your eyes flutter a few times so you can adjust your head out of the haze he has placed you in. Billy keeps his hand in yours as you stand, pointing his head towards your table. 

“C’mon,” he says. “I heard the steak was supposed to be amazing.”

“Did you have fun tonight?” Billy asks as you hand him a bottle of water, his elbow cooly leaning against the island.

“Surprisingly, yes,” you admit, taking off the heavy jewels. “I don’t know, I hear fancy fundraiser, and I don’t think ‘party.’”

“That’s cuz you’ve never been to a Billy Russo fundraiser,” he smirks.

“I guess those are the only ones worth going to, then.”

“You know, I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“You are?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Oh,” you blush, but a nagging question starts to echo in the back of your brain. “I-I didn’t mean to. Just tired.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll let you be for the night,” he says with a soft smile, giving you hand a gentle squeeze on the island before he moves away. “See you Monday, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. 

Okay, that’s it.

“Are you only being nice to me because you found out I grew up in foster care?” you blurt as he walks towards the door. There’s no turning back now. “Before, you’d never say more than you needed to to me, and now for five months, you’ve gotten me flowers, you ask about my day, you know my coffee order, and you left me an insanely gorgeous gown and jewelry to wear to a fundraiser that I wasn’t supposed to go to in the first place.” You pause for a moment, processing that you’re probably running a bond that you’ve wanted for a long time, not to mention your job, probably. “What’s changed?”

“You know I grew up in the system?” he asks, his head turned to the side while his back is still to you.

“I do,” you answer. You had done some deep digging when you were applying for the job, trying to find out as much about the company and its founder as possible.

“Then you should realize that I sympathize with you. Pouring your life into something to move yourself as far away from your past as possible.”

“What I’m really hearing is that all of this from the last few months has just been pity,” you say bitterly, and you try to push away the feeling of tears stinging at your waterline. “And if that’s what this job has turned into, then I don’t need it. I know my worth, and it’s more than that—than whatever this is.”

Your statement causes him to spin around so fast you think he’s gonna get whiplash. He strides over to you so quickly you almost can’t process it. He drops his keys to the ground before kissing you hard, one hand on your waist as the other holds onto the back of your head. He almost knocks you off your feet, but his hands on your body assure that it can’t be a possibility. Your hands rest on his shoulder as your lips move against him, kissing him back just as urgently. His beard tickles a little, but you’re not moving in a way that makes it scratch. When Billy finally pulls away, you’re both left panting for air.

“It’s not pity,” he clarifies. “It’s admiration. I had always thought you were some brown-noser with daddy issues, but you always had this integrity and determination. And then . . .” he trails, his eyes intent and glassy. “I know that drive you have, and that fear of being a disappointment. Hell, that’s how I got here. I wanted to show you that we’re not that shit that happened to us. I wanted to show you that I care.”

“It’s a hell of a way to show it,” you say quietly, looking at his big brown eyes. “I, um . . .” you swallow hard and let emotion contort your face, reeling your feelings in before you continue. “Every time someone finds out, they treat me differently. I really didn’t want you to be one of those people. You might not have thought so, but the way you treated me before made me feel like I finally had a place, y’know? I had a purpose to do something. That I was needed and wanted.”

“I know,” he nods.

“I guess I’m just confused why now.” 

“You’ve been my secretary for four years. You know things about me that I don’t even know all the time. You know things about me that you don’t need to know, but you care enough to. I’ve always wanted to know those things about you, but . . . I’m not great at communication with people that—.” He stops to clear his throat, furrowing his brows together. “The only good relationships I have are with Frank and Curtis, and that’s because we’ve been through hell and back with and for one another. I didn’t know where to start with you, because you just come in and you’re like this . . . force to be reckoned with. I guess that finding out we had something in common made me think I could know you better.”

Billy tucks some stray hair behind your ear as he looks at you. “I don’t want to go back to what this was before,” he says softly. “I like this. Having a friend. Connecting with someone. And . . . I like to think this has the potential to be more than that. Than friends.” 

“Well, I guess I need to know if you kiss all your friends like that.”

A small smile spreads across Billy’s face. “Just the ones that use lemon shampoo and look good in designer dresses.”

“I’m not fired, am I?” you whisper. “Because I think a kiss like that is some kind of HR violation.”

“Not if you don’t want to be,” he responds. “I will say, though, the job market is tough right now.”

“Is this something we can do?”

“I’m willing to make it work if you are.”

You nod your head. “Let’s try it.”

Billy leans back in for a kiss, this one more gentle that the last, but just as deep. Your arms wrap around him and settle on his back, and you feel him lift you up slightly as he pulls you into him.

“We’re gonna do this slowly,” he breathes, brushing his nose against yours, his chocolate eyes staring into your soul.

“Okay,” you quietly agree. “Slow.”

“We have different definitions of slow,” you hum as Billy presses a kiss to the back of your naked shoulder.

“Trust me, I wanted to, but I have a thing for brunettes in designer dresses,” he says, dragging his hands down the bare curves of your body in post-sex bliss. “And it looks just as good on the floor as it did on you tonight.”

You laugh as you roll onto your back, your head resting on his shoulder. 

“Hi,” he says with a dreamy look on his face.

“Hi,” you say, returning his gaze. He leans down and presses a soft, tender kiss to your lips before resting his cheek on the crown of your head. You lay like this in blissful silence as his fingers play with yours, the pale moonlight trickling into your bedroom through the curtains. You think he has fallen asleep—and you almost have—when he shifts a little on the mattress.

“Did you ever think of finding them?” he asks quietly. You know exactly who “them” is.

“I did find them,” you say. “I found out all about them, too. A little after I told you about growing up in the system, actually—curiosity got the best of me.” You think about what you know, and the silence weighs heavy in the bedroom. “My father was an alcoholic, and my mother used all kinds of drugs. They had a short and nasty relationship and split before I was born. My dad worked on the docks, showed up one day drunk, hit is head, and drowned. Based on his obituary, I was six when he died. My mom sobered up around that time, got married, and lives in Cape Cod.” You feel hot, angry tears sting at your waterline. “Two kids, and a freakin golden retriever.”

“And I’m guessing you don’t want to reach out?” he asks carefully.

You scoff. “No. Didn’t want me then, won’t want me now. I’m a part of that past that she worked to forget. I don’t want to go near her with a ten-foot pole. Besides, if she wanted to know me, she’d find me. She’d find a way. And she hasn’t. That says all I need to know.”

Billy wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, pressing a long kiss to your forehead.

“She’s missing out on the best person that I know,” he whispers.

Too emotional to respond, you snuggle into him and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.

“Have you?” you whisper. “Found yours?”

“I found my mom,” he swallows. “She chose meth over me—she safe-havened me. From then on it was group homes.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I think I’ve made my peace with it all. Can’t change it. But it made me who I am, and I’m okay with who I am.”

You don’t ask any more onto the subject. Instead, you snuggle in closer to him.

“For what it’s worth,” you breathe. “I really like who you are, too.”

Billy turns so you’re huddled together chest-to-chest, his arms holding onto you tightly, kissing your forehead before tucking your head under his chin. You fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart.

You practically jump out of your skin when you feel a pair of arms loosely wrap around your middle.

“Jesus, Billy,” you sigh. “You really don’t make a sound if you’re not wearing Italian leather shoes.”

His laugh comes out as a hum as he places a kiss on the back of your neck, right on a bundle of nerves he found out about last night.

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” he murmurs into your skin. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” you grin as you turn the waffle maker.

He kisses your neck again before resting his chin on your shoulder. “I thought the guy was supposed to make breakfast.”

“Not in my house,” you say, running your fingers through his hair as you move to flip some bacon. “My place, my job to make you some food.”

“Fine,” he sighs, moving from you, but not before placing a light smack on your rear. “But I make the coffee.”

“You want any eggs?” you ask.

“Nah,” he says, pouring coffee grounds into the filter. “This all is more than enough. I don’t usually get to enjoy this part.”

“Well, if we’re gonna make a habit of this, it’s something you better get used to.”

You finish making breakfast in harmony, exchanging sections of the newspaper as you eat.

“Wow,” Billy chews, taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re destroying the crossword.”

“It’s a talent,” you smirk as you pause before filling in the rest of your answer. “Now, is it ‘ei’ or ‘ie’ in Steinbeck? I can never remember.”

“I guess you got cocky too soon,” he smiles.

“Yes, and I’m big enough to admit it. Which is it?”

“I’ll tell you, but it’ll cost ya.”

“Oh?” you say as his hand slides into mine, silently inviting you to get up and sit in his lap. You do, and his free hand squeezes your thigh.

“It’s gonna cost you a kiss,” he hums.

“Mm, you run a hard bargain, but I think I can afford that,” you smile, biting your lip as you press your mouth into his. It’s tender, and even with coffee in your systems, there’s something sexily sleepy about the embrace.

“It’s ‘ei’,” he breathes, his lips brushing against yours before placing another kiss on you lips.

“Thank you,” you say, filling in the squares and placing a soft kiss on the freckle just below his eye. His hand then gently holds your cheek, bringing your lips down to his. The kisses grow more needy, and just after he adjusts you so your legs straddle his lap, his phone starts to ring. Reluctantly, he pulls away and looks at his phone.

“Shit,” he hisses before he answers. “Hey, Frankie.”

“Brother, where are you?” you hear Frank ask through the phone.

“Yeah, no, I’m on my way,” he sighs. “I just got a little held up this morning.”

“Mm, yeah,” you hear him chuckle. “Where’d you find this one?”

Billy looks at you with warm, sparkling eyes. “I think she found me.”

“And the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes that day.”

“Yeah, shut up,” he chuckles. “I’ll be there soon.”

Billy hangs up to avoid any more snark over the line from his friend, but not before kissing you once more.

“I didn’t realize it was this late,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I gotta go.”

“I know: ten o’clock runs with Frank, every Sunday. And if you go by the office, you have some extra workout clothes there so you don’t have to run in a tuxedo.”

“Nothin’ gets by you.”

“Nope,” you smile, popping the ‘p’.

You get up from his lap and begin to clean up the table while Billy moves back to your room to get his clothes.

“I will trade you one dress shirt for one very soft and fluffy robe,” he offers when he comes back into the kitchen, your Hello Kitty robe hanging from his finger.

“I guess I accept,” you sigh dramatically. You slide Billy’s shirt off of your body and hand it to him as he slides the robe onto your shoulders.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks, adjusting the collar on your robe.

“Tomorrow,” you nod. “Have fun with Frank.”

“Somethin’ tells me I’d be havin’ more fun here.”

He leans down to kiss you, repeatedly procrastinating his delay with each punctuation of his lips.

“Okay,” he kisses. “I’ll see you—.” Kiss. “—tomorrow morning—.” Kiss. “—bright—.” Kiss. “—and—.” Kiss. “—early.”

You giggle as he takes you in for more kisses. You pull away from his reach, only to be swept back in for one final kiss.

“I really gotta go, now,” he sighs, tucking hair behind your ear.

“I know. I’ll see you soon.”

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[dujour13]

A little romance to kick off February ❤️

(instead of not-a-date it’s wait-is-this-a-date)

---

“May I take your cloak, sir?”

Woljif dodged the man reaching for his shoulders until he noticed from the corner of his eye that Siavash didn’t seem bothered.

“It’s new, don’t mess it up.” Following the chief’s lead he allowed himself to be decloaked, clamping his arms protectively over his pockets while the waiter whisked off his cloak and hung it to steam dry next to Siavash’s by the fireplace.

Nervously Woljif took in the room, his instinct taking mental note of valuables and escape routes: wood-paneled walls, blazing hearth, the kind of fancy paintings that only looked like something if you squinted, a dozen candlelit tables in crisp white linen, gleaming crystal wineglasses and silverware he reckoned he could easily get seven and a half per set for. Beyond the kitchen, the back doors were flung wide to let out fragrant steam, and a whole contingent of cooks and wait staff stood there smiling like rubes and bobbing their heads to the Knight-Commander.

As they were escorted to a table in the front nook, he caught Siavash’s flushed, bright-eyed gaze and began to feel something was expected of him.

“Swanky place, chief. I thought we were headed to the Half Measure.” He yanked his chair out of the waiter’s hands and scooted it in himself.

“This place just opened. They have Andoren specialties.”

Seemed harmless enough, but Siavash still looked like he was waiting for something.

“Uh. Andoren, huh? Like what?”

As Siavash explained, using a lot of words like “braised” and “flambé,” Woljif fidgeted. All this talk was making him hungrier.

“Woljif, you’ll be needing that dessert spoon.”

He took it out of his pocket and put it back on the table.

Through the windows angled around their table, they could see figures hurrying past on the darkened street, cloaks pulled tight against slanting wind and rain. Within, candles shed a cheerful pool of bronze light that glinted from polished dinnerware. It didn’t fail to cross Woljif’s mind that he had always been on the other side of that glass, dreaming of what it would be like to be sitting here. His stomach responded audibly to the memory.

“I guess you’re hungry.”

“We missed the mess bell by an hour, chief. I’m ready to eat my boots. Flambé.”

For some reason Siavash seemed to find this really funny. At last he brushed a tear from the corner of his eye and leaned back comfortably in his chair, which brought his legs forward so that one ankle rested against Woljif’s, and gave him that expectant look again.

Woljif glanced about, searching for clues. The waiter served Siavash wine and Woljif a glass of flavored water with a slice of some kind of fruit wedged on the lip. Other patrons seemed to be avoiding looking their way too often, respectful of the Knight-Commander’s privacy. A halfling couple at a low table across from them were engrossed in conversation and he watched as one of them took the other’s hand across the table, their fingers twining together.

Oh.

“So um. What’s the occasion?” Woljif asked as lightly as he could with volcanic heat surging to his face.

Siavash beamed. “No occasion. I just thought I’d take you out.”

“Like on a—on a date?”

In response Siavash reached across the table with his palm open, and when Woljif placed his nervous and slightly chilly hand in his, grasped it gently. “Yeah. A date. You all right?”

Only then did Woljif become aware that the whooshing sounds behind him were not the wind or someone sweeping, but his own tail stripping the restaurant’s decorative fern of its leaves. He wound it around his chair.

“Sure. I just didn’t expect…”

“I should have warned you. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

“It is!” Woljif almost shouted. “I mean, yeah. Just not used to bein’ what’s it called.”

“Courted.”

“Right. That’s not to say I never had a date before. I’ve had a few, you know. Pretty busy guy, not much time for that stuff.”

“Thanks for taking the time for me,” said Siavash in a low voice, and Woljif felt suddenly like he’d evaporated, like his body had no mass and he might float to the ceiling. Under the table he felt their ankles slide together and had the urge to grip his chair with his free hand to stay grounded.

This was what the Count meant and what those novels were on about, but it turned out the reality was so much nicer. All the times he’d pressed his nose to the windowpane and gazed longingly at the warmth and food beyond his reach he’d never imagined himself having them in such good company.

“I guess I can spare an hour or two for the Knight-Commander,” he joked, his voice a little thick.

The candlelight made Siavash even more handsome, glowing in his burnished gold hair and dancing in his laughing hazel eyes. Slightly dizzy, Woljif sniffed his drink suspiciously.

“It’s not alcoholic,” Siavash reassured him.

When the amuse-bouche arrived, a tiny bowl of fish soup hardly bigger than a walnut complete with tiny croutons and a doll-sized spoon, Woljif again had to take a cue from Siavash not to call the waiter back and give her a piece of his mind. It turned out pretty good, and there was a lot more on the way: sautéed mushrooms in little copper pots, beef simmered slowly in red wine until it melted in your mouth, roasted potatoes in rosemary and sea salt, vegetables with fancy names glazed with butter and honey, fresh flaky bread still warm from the oven.

Woljif had always reckoned that food was food. He had his favorites like cherry rolls and spicy pastries, but when the Count got to waxing poetic about fine cuisine he was skeptical.

This though—

“Aright, I gotta give it to ‘em,” he said through a mouthful, hunched over his plate with both elbows on the table, mopping up wine sauce with a crust of bread, “this ain’t half bad.”

Siavash seemed to be enjoying every bite Woljif took just as much as he did. He paused in his story just to grin.

Woljif ordered more bread by waving the basket at the waiter. “Wait, so you took a Korvosan Arbiter to a brothel?”

“No, not really,” Siavash laughed. “I just knew the suggestion would get him out of there. One more word and he was going to start a war. Fortunately he was too drunk to walk down to the port so we steered him to his chambers instead and left him with his head in a bucket.”

“He’s lucky he didn’t wake up naked in a ditch in Nidal.”

“Oh, I think the Duchess had much worse than that planned for him by the time we got him out of the banquet. Imagine being devoured slowly by a teacup dinosaur.”

When at last the bill came Woljif had completely forgotten about his nerves and was leaning back complacently in his chair with both hands folded over his replete stomach. The warmth where his shin rested against Siavash’s seemed to have radiated to the rest of his body.

“This was nice, chief. Thanks.”

“It was. I hope it compares well with all those other dates you’ve been on.”

Woljif made a face. “Sure does.”

“So what would be your dream date? For future reference.”

“This but not in the fucking Worldwound.”

They had another good laugh but one look at the bill had Woljif back on his guard in an instant. He glanced meaningfully towards the door.

“Something tells me we wouldn’t get away with it. You’re almost as famous as I am around here these days.”

“Yeah, has its disadvantages,” Woljif sighed. With tremendous reluctance he fished in his pocket but Siavash insisted on taking care of it and couldn’t even be talked into writing it off as a Crusade expense.

Back out on the street they walked close to keep out the chill. As soon as they rounded a bend into an unlit street Woljif seized Siavash’s hand, a little roughly as if swiping something from a store shelf, but with sincerity.

“What about your dream date, chief?”

“This was it,” smiled Siavash, breathing in the night air. “Danger on all sides, the bold heroes finding comfort in camaraderie and a rare moment of respite. Good food. And you.”

“Hells, you are such a sweet talker.”

[aquatik]

guardian knight , cyno 𓆝

synopsis from the marine lover -> the seasonal winter ball is upon your region, as it’s princess, you must attend but this year there’s a few twists involved or my piece for @2022gisecretsanta​! this one goes out to you, @mestiako​, i hope you enjoy and pardon me for being late </3

phylum echinodermata -> genshin impact - sumeru

characters -> cyno x reader, nilou, yae miko, kaeya, tighnari, collei and dottore(🧍) make an appearance. diluc, ayato, tohma, and scaramouche are mentioned. sidnei is a made up character here!

word count -> 6.7k 

content -> one shot; fluff, royal AU - female reader

water levels -> all safe, warnings — dottore. just dottore. 

your family famously holds two balls, one in the winter, and one in the summer. currently, your retainers are preparing you for the winter ball. this year, there’s more excitement, for the public at least. now you’re at the age where you are supposed to find someone to be betrothed to, and at tonight’s ball, you expect the flocking of men trying to win your hand. you aren’t excited.

“princess, is something troubling your mind?”

“nothing at all,” you sighed.

one of the ladies who was doing your hair but the brush down, and began to gush, “i bet you must be excited! you’ll be getting loads of men coming up to you today!”

“how excitingly wonderful,” you said, sarcasm seeping through your teeth.

“maybe lord ayato will ask for your hand,” she continued.

“or perhaps the duke of mondstadt, diluc!” another one piped in. they continued listing nobles that had confirmed attendance, your annoyance grew further.

“that’s enough you two, please leave the princess alone and quit pestering her,” your lady-in-waiting, nilou, said.

“nilou,” you sighed thankfully as the two maids finished their touches, delicately placing the small crown upon your head, and left the room. even when they left, you could still hear their whispering gossip.

nilou shook her head as she watched them walk away, “in your presence nonetheless.”

“it’s bound to happen, certainly won’t be the last i’ve heard of it.”

“has your father talked to you about, you know, this,” she hinted.

“no, he hasn’t actually. you know he’s always been more lax with traditions.”

“relaxed enough to let you be with him,” she giggled, placing her hands on your shoulders and looking at you through the mirror, her bright hydro vision shook at the movement.

“nilou…” you mumbled, casting your eyes to the side.

she giggled, “just teasing.”

just as you were gonna retort back to nilou, there’s a knock at your door, “princess, the ball is about to start, are you ready?” one of the maids spoke.

“yes, i’ll be right there,” you said, standing up. “how do i look?” you asked nilou.

“perfect like always,” she smiled. you thanked her and walked towards the door.

“please, pardon i wasn’t here to help you get ready, my lady,” the familiar lady bowed, “i was tasked by your father to help arrange the ballroom.”

“sidnei,” you smiled. she had been your head caretaker ever since you were born, like a mother to you since you never knew yours. “i’m glad you’re here now.”

“allow me to walk you, you look stunning tonight, as always.”

you thanked her, and began walking, “speaking of which, where is my father?” you asked.

she nervously laughed, “you see, he’s busy currently, he won’t be able to walk you tonight.”

“i see…”

“however, sir cyno will be walking you,” she said, with a knowing smile, as you both turned the corner.

“w-what—“

“the king personally appointed him.”

“you cannot be—“ you said, before you look away from sidnei to meet his piercing red eyes, standing in wait for you, your royal knight, cyno.

he was shorter than most, shoulder length white hair tied back, and ruby eyes. just from appearance, most would assume he’s a mediocre knight at best, but cyno one of the kingdom’s last lines of defense, the best of the best. and he’s your personal knight, ever since you both were young. even if officially he’s called your knight, you honestly consider him your best friend.

at least you thought you did until a while back, you realized slowly yet quickly you were developing feelings for the man. you’d seen him grow into a respectable man. many do fear him, but with you, you get to see the side of him that loves telling jokes, that is infatuated with card games, that just has a hard time forming thoughts into words. the man you know as cyno, not as the royal knight of the princess.

that’s why, you can’t help but feel this way. long before you know it, sidnei is gone and you’re left with cyno.

“if it makes you uncomfortable, we can find someone else,” he said, breaking your train of thought.

“no! it’s alright, i wouldn’t have it any other way,” you smiled, walking up to him.

“are you sure, your highness?”

you looked into his eyes, giving him a knowing stare. it took him a second, but once he understood he argued, “i will not—“

“you will or we won’t be moving from here,” you said, crossing your arms.

he sighed, “are you sure, [y/n]?”

“yes, i’m sure, cyno,” you smiled.

he coughed into his arm, “then, may i?” he said, extending his right arm to yours. you nod and take his hand, wrapping yourself around it as he walks you towards the ball. “nervous?” he asked you.

“not really, i just want to get the night over with.”

he hums, “i see.”

“what will you be doing?” you asked.

“pardon, me?”

you sighed, “who else would i be asking?”

“it was meant to be a joke…” he mumbled as you sighed once more. “i’m on duty tonight, i’ll be keeping guard. there’s a lot of foreign diplomats visiting tonight.”

“i see.” you nodded. you noted he had his electro vision near the sheathed weapon, a clear sign he was on duty and he wasn’t lying. “won’t you be enjoying the ball tonight?”

he pondered for a moment before shaking his head, “no i won't.”

you looked over at him, wondering what to say. he’s a hard worker, barely taking time off. even if you wouldn’t be enjoying your time tonight, maybe he could enjoy it for the both of you. alas, you couldn’t come up with something fast enough as you were about to reach the door. two knights were waiting. they salute the both of you, wishing for a successful night. you thanked them, while cyno opted to nod.

cyno led you through the door and to the stairs, you caught a glimpse of your father sitting at the throne above, a smile casted your way when he saw you. you take another glimpse downwards, you could hear the murmurs of the crowd, and you weren’t sure if your eyes were playing tricks on you, or was it seemingly a larger number of people this year?

“…we now introduce the princess, [y/n] of sumeru, and her loyal knight, sir cyno.” you heard your father’s primary royal advisor announce only thanks to cyno gesturing you to take your bow. he leads you down the last flight of stairs before taking your hand to your fathers, who had come down from the upper level, before taking his position at the right hand side of the staircase.

“thank you, cyno,” you smiled. he returned one of those rare smiles to you, and nodded.

“would you care to dance with an old man such as your father?” he joked, extending his hand to you.

you softly laughed, “it’s always a pleasure to dance with you, father.”

he led you towards the floor, the orchestra taking its cue to begin the soft serenade of the strings and woodwinds alike. typical. it was the song you always danced to with your father, without fail. it was a variation of a lullaby he used to hum to you when you were younger, not so much now due to royal duties, but you still hear it once in a while when you walk past his office.

“to think,” he begins, “perhaps next year, i won’t be having the first dance with you anymore, my little girl could be whisked away right before i know it,” he said with fake tears laced through his words.

“father…” you whined as he softly spun you, allowing you a momentary glance at cyno.

“i know, i know. i just want you to know, when the time comes, find someone you truly love. we’ve always stood for these ideals.”

you scoffed, “you sound as if i am to be wed by the strike of midnight.”

“who knows, maybe you will,” he heartedly laughs.

“in some wild fantasy,” you laugh as you take the final bow. the crowd around you begins clapping, as your father leads you to them.

“i do have some business to attend to, concerning some of the nobles from snezhnaya. please, enjoy yourself little one. try not to get married and leave this old man behind,” he jests as he walks off before you can say anything.

“princess, you looked enchanting as always,” nilou said, walking up to you. before you could respond, she perked up, “please excuse me, i believe that’s lady eula. it’s been a while since i've seen her, i’ll be back!”

an attendant passes by with a platter of drinks, offering your favorite to you. you thank him and take the glass, softly swirling it in your hand. snezhnaya and sumeru currently were in the middle of a political conflict, your father wished not to involve you, but you understand that it’s majoridly about the akademia, one of this nation’s greatest achievements. the situation was tense, your father was going to cut off the amount of control the snezhnayan court had over the akademia, but it would cause several issues, worst would be a war, but it was definitely plausible. you wanted to help your father, you truly did, but what could you do?

“mora for your thoughts?” you hear a woman’s voice say, sly in her tone. you turn your head to see the duchess of inazuma, yae miko smirking at you.

“lady yae, my apologies,” you said, fully turning towards her.

“none of that little one, i spoke out of line,” she bows.

you spoke, “i hope everything is well overseas, i’ll see it soon visit, the nation of electro is always a pleasure to see.”

lady yae smiled, saying how she wished their region had a more respectable young royal such as yourself.

“speaking of, you do know i’m obliged to ask, wouldn’t you be interested in our princes’ hand?” she hums, laughing when she sees you glancing away. “that brat really won’t ever find someone, now will he,” she sighed.

“are you allowed to speak of the prince in such a manner?” you asked.

“but of course i am. who do you think taught him the sliver of manners he knows?”

you nodded, “right, of course.”

“well then, if it isn’t the prince, might you be interested in lord ayato? or perhaps, you’re interested in the kamisatos’ lord-in-waiting, tohma?” she teased.

“lady yae!” you softly scolded as she laughed once more.

“so much for trying, could’ve made an amazing story. i better get back to making sure the prince doesn’t offend any nations, heavens knows what happened last time.” she says, walking towards a small commotion at the right hand side of the ball.

“why if it isn’t the rambunctious princess? i’ve got to say, you seemed to have mastered waking in those heels, i remember when you’d trip on flats,” a familiar voice spoke.

“kaeya!” you smiled, the marquees of mondstadt, kaeya walks up to you. you had known him and his brother, diluc ever since you were little, but after their fathers death things changed for them, subsequently you lost touch.

you both caught up, exchanging pleasantries and stories on either side. it was nice to speak with a familiar face after so long.

“kaeya, where might diluc be?” you asked him, as you hadn’t seen the red haired man tonight.

“not quite sure myself. why are you asking? looking to court him?” he mused, slightly leaning down to meet your face.

“of course not!” you argued, swatting his forearm, before you could retort, he teased once more,

“or could it be that, you’d be interested in me?” he asked.

you broke eye contact with kaeya to glance to your right, cyno was still there, keeping watch as he’d been doing. you weren’t sure if it was your imagination, but you swore you saw him make eye contact with you. you heard kaeya click his tongue, a habit he had once he realized something, and you quickly turned back to him.

“sir kaeya, with all due respect—“ you began before kaeya softly shushed you.

“i understand, i understand.” he sighs, fake sadness laced across his tongue, “i do value when a fair maiden stays true to her ideals, just like when we were younger. i remember it like yesterday, saying how you’d never marry one of us since we were like siblings after some nobel had spoken out of line. do take care, princess. i’ll be off looking for my—or should i joke, our brother to make sure he doesn’t get his hands full with, a few special guests.” he smiled.

you returned the smile, softly laughing as you caught onto his sarcasm through the whole questioning. he bowed and was about to walk away to take his leave, another male voice entered the scene.

“if i may, i’d love to speak to the princess.” a masked man says.

“who might you be?” kaeya said, smiling but slightly pushing you behind him, leaving you confused.

he chuckled, “do pardon me, where are my manners. my name is il dottore, marquess of shneznaya. it’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness.” he said, taking a bow and your hand, pressing his lips against the back of your hand.

“i leave you in his company then,” kaeya seethes as he walks away, having no other choice as he was supposed to take his leave already, evident by the glare the marquess had been sending kaeya’s way..

“lord dottore, the pleasure is all mine…” you said, nerves beginning to swarm you, from both the odd reaction kaeya had, as well as the fact a shneznayan diplomat wished to speak with you directly.

he laughs, his singular earring swings back and forth, “now now, don’t seem so tense your highness. i assure you, the political standing between our nations musnt spoil our conversation.”

“i appreciate it.”

“i must say, you look rather divine tonight, as you always do,” he says, smiling as it’s only his upper face covered by the mask.

you returned the smile, a lot smaller than his, “thank you, i’d love to complement you as well, but i only have a smile to go off.” you said inquisitively, hoping it would spark a conversation to avoid the awkward pleasantries. how wrong you’d be.

“i assume you mean my eyes? they are indeed covered. say, wouldn’t you like to see the rest of my face.”

you hummed, “i suppose so.”

“i’d allow you to see my whole face as many times as you’d like, if we were wed.”

you nervously laughed, “i suppose i’ll never see your face then.”

“oh? why’s that?” he asked. an attendant walked by and dottore placed his empty glass on the tray. his now free hand takes yours and presses yet another kiss against it, this time taking it and placing it against his cold, metallic-like cheek. “what if this is my proposal to you?”

you remove your hand from his grasp, “i call your bluff.” you scoffed.

“wrong call,” he eerily smiles, “it’s true, i wish to marry you. think about it, we’d tie the knot, not only between us, but out nations as well, ending this vicious cycle that you and i both know will only end in a war. i know you’re smart enough, your highness.”

“i believe our nations can come to an agreement without this sort of thing,” you argued as he clicked his tongue.

“you’re breaking my heart,” he cackled, “who said i only wanted to marry you to help our nations, i could care less. i meant it when i said you’re divine, i’m infatuated by you.” he said. if it weren’t for the underlying creepiness in this strange speech, anybody would’ve thought it was a sweet, heartfelt confession. you were beyond creeped out though.

“how could i even consider a marriage proposal from someone i just met, i barely even know you.” you claimed, instinctively taking a step back, eyes wandering around the room, hoping someone you knew was close by, if cyno was close by. alas, you couldn’t find anyone in the short seconds you had.

“if i told you more about me, would you consider my proposal?” he mused, taking a step forward towards you.

“i suppose so…” you mumbled, reminding yourself you have an image to uphold as this regions princess and you couldn’t just yell out what was on your mind.

“then allow me to share some more, personal details about myself. some call me, the doctor.” he smiled.

“the doctor?” you gasped, eyes widening ever so slightly.

you’ve been out to the main plaza before, but only a few times have you visited farther away villages. a few months ago, you headed out with cyno to gandharva ville for the first time. your father had come down with a unknown sickness, right when the ties with snezhnaya began to sever, and cyno had recommended a doctor who could help. even against the insistings of the court and cyno, you accompanied him. after all, you’d be saftest with your guard, you argued.

begrudgingly, he took you along in a disguise, and you met tighnari. you learned they were friends, good ones too it seemed. you learned tighnari was recommended to become a royal medic, but he refused, stating how his research was better out here in gandharva ville. he learned of the conditions of your father and agreed to head to the castle, but on the condition he was able to give treatment to his current patient.

you had suggested for the patient to come with you guys, only to earn a modest scolding on the dangers of doing so. smiling at your own lack of medical knowledge, you apologized where as he sighed. you concluded that the treatment wouldn’t take longer than a few hours, not ideal, but you understood.

out of curiosity, you asked about the patient. unexpectedly, cyno was the one to tell you about her.

“her name’s collei. she’s a young girl, about 11 years old. she’s…” he stopped before continuing, “she’s a victim of the doctor. some crazed lunatic taking children and experimenting on them for his nation's gain. from my intel, it seems that the bastard is from snezhnaya.”

“goodness…” you whispered. this was the first you had heard of such thing, and by the look on cyno’ s face, it seemed like it wasn’t something he wanted you to find out of.

tighnari spoke, breaking the silence, “the good thing is that she’s recovering well ever since cyno brought her over a few weeks back. she just had a major flare up this morning, and i just need to make sure she’s stable to—“ he spoke before cutting himself off.

“collei, what are you doing out of bed?” he softly scolded as she peeped out of the door.

“i thought…i thought i heard him…” she says, taking a step outside.

tighnari was going to step towards her to help calm the little girl down but you beat him to it. you took cautious steps and lowered your hood, you could already hear cyno scolding you, but to your surprise, he stood silent, only standing guard in case something happened.

“everything is going to be okay,” you softly said, kneeling to her level “he isn’t here, he won’t hurt you anymore.”

“aren’t you the…”

you shook your head, “nevermind that, what’s your name?”

“it’s collei,” she answered.

you smiled at her, “it’s lovely to meet you collei, is there something you’d like to do? i’m sure you must be tired from laying in bed.”

“can we get zaytun peaches?”

“i don’t see why not, why don’t you go get ready? i think tighnari is about ready to give you your medicine anyways.”

she nods and goes back inside, you turn to tighnari who had previously been bickering with cyno while you talked to collie. he excused himself and walked inside to give collei her medicine, while cyno gave you a blank stare.

“what’s wrong?”

“your highness,” he began, “have you ever…picked zaytun peaches yourself?”

“no, but that’s why i have you to—“

“good. because then you’d be hunting your own kind.”

you tilted your head, softly beginning to laugh, “i’m sorry?” you asked.

“because you’re a peach. do you get it?” he deadpanned. “i can explain it if you don’t understand. you see, when people say you’re a peach, it’s to say…”

this time, you began laughing. partially because of the joke, but mainly it was due to your knight's execution of the joke. at the sound of your laughter colored your cheeks, and while you didn’t notice, cyno allowed himself to fondly look at you and smile, a similar color painting his face as well.

“that was terrible. never say that again, cyno,” tighnari said, exiting the small hut.

“now, now, everyone has different tastes. are you insulting the princess’s taste,” you joked as tighnari looked away, mumbling something along the lines of ‘how was i supposed to know.’

“truly, i do apologize, princess. collei got the last of her medicine, we can head out if you’d like.”

“please, don’t worry about it, my knowledge in medicinal science isn’t great, i should be thanking you for teaching me, i see why cyno recomended you.” you said as you began looking around the area, “however, we can’t leave now, i did promise collei we’d pick peaches together. my father isn’t in critical condition, we have a few moments to spare. do you happen to have a basket?”

“you’re just as kind as he—i mean, as they say. i’ll grab you one. in the meantime, i’ll get my materials ready.”

you thanked him as he walked back to the small hut, and out came collei with a small basket. the three of you began to head towards an area of the forest, per cyno’s lead. collei asked you questions every once in a while, and you’d gladly respond.

at one point, she wandered off a little ahead to grab some harra fruit she had seen in a distance. you and cyno stayed behind, but still watched her.

“she’s taken a liking to you rather quickly,” he spoke, looking over at you. a faint look of jealousy washed over him.

“i guess so, what's with that look?” you laughed, poking at him.

he stopped to think for a moment then responded, “nothing, it’s just it took collei a while to like me, and she took a liking to you rather quickly.”

“aww, are you jealous?” you teased. you had expected him to remain silent, like he usually does whenever you bother him, except he surprised you.

“a little, but not really. you’re a wonderful person, it’s no wonder why she felt comfortable around you so quickly.”

you looked into his eyes to see if there was any hint of sarcasm in his statement, but there wasn’t. “cyno…” he coughed to break the silence, looking over at collei who had now resorted looking around for sumeru roses.

“since when have you known about this, the doctor i mean.” you asked, looking away from collei to glance at cyno’s expression.

he sighed, “i figured you’d ask.” he began to explain in more detail what had happened. you learned that she’s from sumeru, she suffers from eleazar. her mother couldn’t cover her treatment, but a sponsor under the name of the doctor said he’d have her treated, with no expenses. only condition is that she’d need to travel to schenzaya. from then on, she was experimented on using ancient relics. cyno had gone to mondstad for not only an expedition, but because an old alma mater had requested for his assistance. he was able to bind the ancient spirit, but it took a lot out on the poor girl.

“why didn't you tell me? you told me about everything that happened on the expedition to mondstat except this,” you argued, not loud enough to disturb collei but enough to get cyno’s attention just how upset you were.

“this is far from your realm of responsibilities, it would’ve just been a burden to add onto you.”

“as far as i'm concerned, i’m the princess of sumeru. it's my duty to make sure my people are safe, and she’s a child of sumeru who was gravely hurt, more than words can describe. this is unacceptable.” you firmly reprimanded. cyno looked shocked for once, but quickly composed himself. “we’ve always worked together, we’ve been a team since forever, cyno. my position means nothing to me when i’m with you and you know it.”

“…i didn’t know you felt that way.” he says.

“of course you knew, you just chose to ignore it at times. i’m not made of glass, you know.”

“says the one who would always complain about not having a vision when we were younger.”

you blushed, “not the time.”

he chuckled, “you’re right, please accept my apologies, for everything. i promise, i’ll let you know if i learn something new.”

“that’s more like it, there’s the cyno i know,” you smiled. “it’s settled then, we’ll find out who the doctor is and take him down, together!”

you smiled at him and he nodded, you took his hand that was in a fist and forced his pinky finger out, hooking yours onto his, intertwining them together. he looked bashful, is what you could describe. you imagined it was because he must’ve thought you were acting childish.

“i’m done, this is for you!” collei says, coming back with a small padisarah and handing it to you.

you smiled as you took it, releasing your hand, rather, your pinky from cyno’s, “thank you collei! i’ll cherish this because it came from an amazing friend!”

“please, excuse me, lord dottore, i must attend to the other guests,” you said, looking around for a way to leave, for someone, anything.

“why so frantic, your highness?” he questioned, leaning down to your ear, “i do think i’d be wise for you to consider this…proposition of sorts.”

“i’d be best for you to—“

“to? what’s this, the princess is threatening me, shneznayan diplomat? on what grounds.” he said, roughly grabbing your forearm, pulling you towards him. “i suggest you chose your words carefully. who knows what could happen to this precious kingdom. perhaps you’d be better off accepting my proposal, you’d have an…immunity of sorts.” he laughs as you rip your arm from his grasp, running towards the back garden.

do you inform cyno now? or even your father? accepting his proposal would put an end to all the political issues your father was facing, but it meant sacrificing your happiness, the safety of your people. who knows what would happen with a crazed lunatic like him ruling, yet again, look at the power he has already, to harm such a large number of people just as a marquess. you couldn’t, you’d be betraying collei, and all his other victims from not only your nations but others as well. but not accepting would also put your people in danger.

“i knew you’d be out here,” you heard a male voice speak. you sighed loudly.

“lord dottore, how many times do i have to tell you, i’m not interested. please leave before i—“ you said before gasping, “goodness, cyno you scared me.”

“what was that about someone pestering you,” he said, bringing his hand to the sheathed weapon on his hip, the purple vision beginning to spark.

“no, no, no need for that,” you said, placing your hand against his, both of your movements momentarily ceased. soon after, he quickly kneeled one leg on the ground, like he does on royal duty.

“your highness, what are you doing out here?” he asked.

“cyno get up,” you commanded as he rose, “i just am outside, no particular reason for it. and could you quit it? it’s just the two of us, no need for the formalities.”

“you seem to forget that tonight is an official event, i can’t toss aside formalities.”

you stepped forward and pinched his cheek, you heard a soft ‘oww’ released from his lips, you were sure it didn't hurt, he probably did as such to make you feel better. wouldn’t be the first time he’s done so.

“i understand that, trust me.” you sighed, “but it’s just the two of us, lighten up won’t you?”

he hummed before asking, “‘s something plaguing your mind?” he asked. you internally groaned. he’s good, you’d expect nothing less from the man who’s been by your side for who knows how many years.

you thought about it for a moment before shaking your head, this isn't the right time, or is it? you weren’t sure, but you had to respond before cyno became suspicious. “i don’t know, i’m just overwhelmed. i think i need to dance to clear my mind,” you said absentmindedly.

“then let me take you back inside, i’m sure there’s plenty of nobles who—“

you shook your head, “no.”

he raised his brow at you, “no? didn't you just say…?”

“i’m aware of what i said,” you sighed, “but i want to stay here.”

“allow me a moment then, i’ll find someone to come out here and dance with you—“ he said as he turned around, beginning to head back inside.

“no!” you shouted, grabbing his wrist. he looked confused, and you looked at him through your eyelashes, “i’d like for you to dance with me, cyno.”

he stared at you for a few seconds before coughing, “princess, i’m aware some of my jokes aren’t the best, but you’ve got me beat here.”

what.

“what part of what i just said sounded like a joke? i’m serious, i wish to dance with you cyno.”

“and i refuse.” he says, crossing his arms.

now you are the one to raise your brow, this time in amusement, “are you telling me no?”

“indeed i am,” he grunts.

“we’ve danced before you know.” you said, “you’re the one who taught me for my debutant.”

“its…different now.” he said, looking up to the moon.

you stood in front of him, using your hands to bring his face down, “how is it different now?”

“you’re a lady who is supposed to be finding someone to be wed to, we aren’t children anymore.”

“i don't care about that, and you know it. cyno, i truly just want to dance with you.”

“i…” he said, finally meeting your eyes.

“please?” you asked, on the brink of giving up.

that was until you felt a pair of hands reach your waist, and your feet forcibly began to waltz. you look up at him to see the moonlight hitting his face in just the right way, enough to visibly show the pinks of his cheeks.

“please, tell me if you wish to stop,” he muttered, meeting your smiling face.

you hummed, placing your hands on his shoulders, “i doubt i will ever want to stop.”

the soft waltz became more grand, he led you through the garden gracefully, perfectly weaving through the bushes of sumeru roses before staying in place and swaying. this reminded you a lot of a few years back, when you were practicing for your debutante, except this time there was no heels stepping on the poor young man’s feet. this time, it was a graceful dance between you and the man you harbored feelings for.

“i take it back.”

“what? we can stop if you wish—“

“no, i mean what i said earlier. when you asked if i was nervous and i said i wanted this to be over with. i don’t wish for this night—well, for this moment to end.”

“you know we mustn’t,” he softly says.

you lean your head to his chest, continuing the soft swaying, “indulge me this once then, please.”

“is that an order?” he laughs.

“if it makes you stay, then yes.”

“i would’ve stayed regardless…” he whispers, low enough for it to be carried away by the midnight wind, but loud enough for you to hear, it too carries away the worries littering your mind. i’d be an issue to resolve tomorrow, you decide.

“good morning!” you hear a cheerful voice sing. “you better wake up before i splash water on your face~” you heard the voice tease.

“nilou, please, it’s archons knows what time it is,” you whined as you sat up.

“now, now, none of that, you have to tell me what happened last night.”

you turned to her as you tilted your head. surely it wasn’t about the marquess, was it? “what are you talking about, nilou?”

“i’m talking about the dance, obviously!” she exclaimed, sitting down with you. “sir cyno brought you hear, claiming you had fallen asleep. but i heard that you were dancing with someone~” she teased as you blushed.

“it was cyno, wasn’t it,” she gushed, as you looked away, “it totally was!”

“nilou! not too loud, you’ll get him in trouble.”

“so it was him! was he the same one who proposed?” before you could ask what was she talking about, one of your attendants walked in the room.

“princess, your presence is called for in the main throne room by the king. please, allow me to assist you in getting ready.

“alright then, where’s sidnei?”

the maid looked around nervously, “she’s…she’s somewhere. we aren’t exactly sure where, this is also the case with a few other staff members.”

what was going on.

nilou walks you to the main throne room, this time she was silent, sensing you were tense. thoughts raced across your head, did your father find out about the dance you shared with cyno? was he okay? what about sidnei and the other staff, where were they? and, what happened with dottore, or rather, the doctor? you had planned on investigating further on his actions, but everything was happening so fast.

your last question was answered as soon as you entered the throne room, and the man was standing before your father.

“my beautiful daughter, you didn’t tell me!” he exclaimed when he saw you enter the room.

“father, what are you talking about?” you asked as he walked up to you, engulfing you in a hug.

“why don’t be silly, lord dottore is asking for your hand in marriage! you’d know this better than i, after the dance you both shared, so he was telling me.”

you briefly heard nilou gag, mumbling disappointedly.

“he did what…?” you asked your father, his expression being the polar opposite of yours.

“please, your majesty, allow me to ask properly,” he says, taking your hand and kneeling on one foot, pulling out a box. “princess of sumeru, will you marry me?”

gasps flooded the room with the few in the room, applauds began to echo, and you could hear the distinct sound of your father sniffling. you glance around to see everyone happy, nilou looked disappointed and was the black sheep in this crowd, alongside you. you look down at the man currently kneeling in front of you, that eerie smile painted across his face.

“i…” you stuttered, unsure what to do. lucky, you wouldn't have to decide what to do.

only a few were able to hear the footsteps, and only another handful saw the purple sparks of electricity fill the room, but everyone saw the fist of the princess’s guardian knight connect with the marquess' jaw, knocking him to the ground. the mask now forgone to the ground, splatters of blood stained the carpet below him that matched dottores eyes. if you were to make the comparison at this moment, his red eyes were blood crimson, while cyno’s eyes reminded you of rubies.

gasps yet again filled the room, whispers exchanged as the only clapping now belonged to nilou, before she ceased her excitement.

dottore groans, attempting to sit up only for cyno to throw a spear—his preferred weapon—right next to his face, grazing the man’s face, yet again more blood. he then rushed forward, holding the spear down.

“cyno!” you gasped.

“cyno!” your dad yelled, voice filled with rage. it was rare to hear the king upset, and whenever he was, all you could do is pray for the unfortunate soul that the anger was targeted towards. “explain yourself! this is treason!”

“forgive me, your majesty, but this man is placed under arrest in the princesses orders,” he said, as everyone gasped once more

“arrested?” dottore maniacally laughed, “my fiancée wouldn’t do such a thing, i’ll have a war waged—“

“you dare make such baseless threats after you threatened this nation's princess on her own land? you’re lucky i didn’t take action last night, but today i won’t be so merciful.” he began, his spear becoming engulfed with electro.

your eyes widened, had cyno really seen everything that happened? at what moment or even where was he, you couldn’t see him at all.

“this man has gone mad!” dottore yells, “your majesty, you see, my suggestion isn’t so far fetched after all, he’s going to spread this madness to the princess.”

“the only one spreading madness here would be you, doctor!” you yelled.

“how do you know about that?” your father asked, more so rhetorically.

cyno continued, “you thought we wouldnt have noticed the missing number of attendants, especially sidnei? the princess’s personal attendant? what a fool you are. we have the reports on certain wine barrels that were contaminated by a poison coming from your region, as well as the personnel serving them. everything ties back to you. however, this is an open investigaton, im typically not allowed to arrest you in those cases, but not only did you verbally threaten the princess, you manhandled her. in front of thousands nonetheless.”

“what about the dance from last night?” the king asked.

both you and cyno coughed, but he continued speaking, “…it was i who was dancing with her.” the room was silent once more until nilou softly squealed, whispers filled the air once more.

“my daughter, is this true?” your father asked, turning towards you.

you looked over at cyno, his eyes shining with determination. you nodded, signaling you’d follow his lead.

“yes father, everything sir cyno said is true. that man on the ground is the doctor, the crazed lunatic who’s been experimenting on our people. i had cyno investigate further after he insulted me last night, and i issued the arrest order. such filth cannot be left unattended to.” you said, your stance radiating a commanding force.

“and the dance?” nilou chimed in, before one of the attendants slapped her hand across her mouth.

you sighed, “yes, the dance too,” you said bashfully.

“that does it then, guards!” your father snapped his fingers, “il dottore, marquess of shneznaya is to be arrested immediately, as per the princess’s orders!” your father commanded. as guards took dottore away, he yelled curses until his voice ran dry.

“princess,” cyno said, kneeling before you. “please, excuse me for my actions. and lack of actions last night.”

“cyno, please stand.” you said as he rose to his feet, “thank you for trusting me and for letting me help even if it was a little. please, allow me to apologize for not telling you last night.”

you turned to your father, “and to you as well, i should’ve told you both sooner rather than now.”

cyno was the first to speak, “you helped a lot more than you can imagine, my lady. you got the doctor to reveal himself. and we're a team, aren’t we?”

“that we are,” you smiled.

“so, who’s gonna court who?” your father mused.

you exclaimed, color painting your face, “father!”

he laughed as your father’s royal advisor sighed, “i thought the choice in dottore was weird, but who was i to judge who you loved?” he asked turning to cyno, “i was rooting for you the whole time, son?”

“…thank you?” he responded, visibly and understandably confused.

you sighed at your father and turned to cyno, “you know last night, i only wished to dance with you.” you smiled at cyno, walking up and kissing his cheek, “thank you.”

“it’s always my pleasure, princess.” it was an address you were used to by many, but this time it felt different given the circumstance.

glass bottle message -> this was NOT supposed to be this long LKJAKBJB but i really hope you enjoyed, and to anyone else reading! thanks kat for pushing me, love you the most stinker @lovely-josuke​

also the fact i had to rewrite the whole thing because google docs didn’t save it 😔💔 regardless i love how this turned out hehe

requests are open, but please check the rules :)

[vad-hander]

MY LOVE, IT’S BEEN TOO LONG

pairing: Jeno x reader

genre: medieval!au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow-burn, established relationship

warnings: reader!princess, Jeno!knight, imprisonment, marriage

disclaimer: as this fic is based on a very weird dream I had I would like to put a disclaimer that I’m not a historian and I only wrote this fic for fun. If something seems absurd or out of time from a historical perspective I’m sorry. From my perspective it goes well with the picture of a medieval castle and life.

I tried my best to not make this a typical knight-princess fic, so I hope you enjoy it

words: 4.7k

PART 1 | PART 2

“My love, it’s been too long since I last saw you.” Jeno walked into your chambers loudly.

“Jeno!” you jumped up from the bed in your night gown not minding the decency.

“Please not, lie down, your servant told me you’ve not been very well.” he reached out his hands to gesture you back to bed, not realising how quickly your feet took you to the other corner of the room where he stood. You grabbed onto his forearms and then moved your palms onto his cheeks, inspecting his face in the dim lighting of a candle.

“I’m all the same, you should get back to bed, the floor must be freezing.”

“All the sickness left the moment I heard you’re coming back to the village. I have not seen you in such a long time.” you suddenly let go of his face, grabbing onto both of his hands that slightly touched the waist of your gown. You dropped onto your knees, hiding your face in both of his palms. “I was so worried, my love, that I would not get to see you again. I could not sleep, I’d spent my nights and days awake, always close to my father to hear the news of you coming back first…” your eyes raised at the man “…and now you’re here, and you’re worried about my stupid sickness, when you were in much more danger than this. I’m so glad you could come back safely.” you lowered your head once again, kissing his knuckles.

“Please get back on your feet.” he said fondly, repeating his plea once again, adding your name at the end almost inaudibly.

“ You must be terribly tired from the road. I’m going to call Kirsta to run you a bath.” you jumped up, losing all contact with the man in front of you.

“There’s no need, I’m going back to my parents. I just had to see you first, love.” it hurt to hear him say he meant to leave.

“You could stay.”

“I could not.” he smiled at you with the smile a parent gives a child.

“My father would let you stay. He loves you as his son. Just stay here, I’ll go and ask him.”

“At this late hour?” Jeno stopped you by grabbing your wrist.

“He would love to see you back healthy.”

“Your father must be asleep by now.” Jeno ran his eyes over to the window and back at you.

“That means…” you shivered at the thought and stepped closer to Jeno. “You could stay…secrety.” your eyes found his and stared deeply. “In my room, even.” you gulped and could feel the goosebumps on Jeno’s skin.

“I’ve been on the road for the past two days, I need to clean up, I should not stain your sheets wi-.”

“I won’t mind.” you looked up from behind your lashes. Your feet curled at the sudden feeling of the freezing stone floor against your bare skin. Jeno seemed to notice too.

“Ugh, I have lost my senses.” he sighed and bent, only to wrap his arms over your thighs, forcing your hands to roll over his neck for balance. A loud screech left you throat as you began to giggle quietly.

“I could have walked back to the bed with my feet.” you giggled and muffled his hair, as Jeno dropped on his knees in front of your now sitting figure.

“Milady, is everything okay?” a small girl ran into the room, probably being disturbed by the sound you made. “Oh, Sir.” she bowed and lowered her head quickly.

“Kirsta, run a bath.”

“Love, I beg you not to.”

“Kirsta.” you gave her a nod and the girl bowed multiple times as she exited the room.

“Who am I if I can’t even run a bath for a dear friend of mine?”

“A dear friend?” Jeno smiled slyly as you watched his face.

“Mmh.”

“A future husband.” you giggled at him being so serious.

“If only my father allows.”

“I’ll fight for his approval.” you placed a palm on his cheek.

“I know.” you smiled and paused. Jeno paused too and looked back at you.

Your chest felt caved in that moment, wishing you could spend more time with him, wishing he would not leave you any more. If you could lie down in bed with him and have him next to you at night. Just run your fingers through his body to feel every inch of his skin. The thought’s been intoxicating ever since you’ve turned 16. You could feel in your chest that you’d kiss him, kiss him anywhere he’d want you to or where he’d allow you to, without hesitation. You knew he would like that, you kissed his collarbone briefly before he left, the way his eyes flattered at your touch replayed in your mind for a long time. The way his hand raised up onto your neck with the slightest touch and made your entire being shiver. You’ve never felt like that before and you were counting days to feel his touch again. You wouldn’t mind the dirt from the road, in the moment you felt so overwhelmed with his presence, with him looking into your eyes so gently and caringly, like the whole world only existed of you and him, like he was so deeply fond of you he couldn’t spare a second without being in your presence.

Words of utter devotion and obedience were at the tip of your tongue, something you were not meant to tell any man, anyone in the whole wide world and even beyond that, but Jeno made it feel safe to say. You opened your mouth, closing it back as the knock on the door was followed by its opening.

“The bath is ready.” Kirsta bowed.

“Please, don’t wait for me. Go to bed.” Jeno raised from his feet, kissing your knuckles on his way back up.

“I’ll come with you.” You stood up, following the man closely behind. “I’ll help you wash.” you touched his fingertips with yours, as your chest slightly pressed against his back.

“Kirsta.” you looked at the girl’s eyes deeply, she obviously was eavesdropping and its been too long since it stopped being concerning you. She has been by your side for a couple of years. You just looked her in the eye to make sure she understands, that it’s better to not run her mouth about this to anyone and the slightest change in her gaze as she blinked let you know she understood.

Jeno’s tongue ran over his teeth as he walked into your bathroom. You caught onto the action, seeing that movement for the first time.

“You can leave us alone.”

“Yes, milady.” she closed the door behind you.

“Have you ever taken a bath without anyones help?” Jeno ran his eyes over a foreign environment of the room.

“I haven’t.” you admitted simply, taking a step closer to Jeno, whos fingers reached over to the belt. “It does not mean I’m not able to help you.” you pointed out, reaching for Jeno’s belt too, forcing his fingers off the metal material. “If I never put my clothes on myself, it doesn’t mean I’m unable to undo your belt and help you take your tunic’s off.”

“My princess, I-“

“It’s fine, I swear.” you took a glance at his worried eyes.

“If the king-, if your father finds out we both are going to be punished. A princess should not be helping me take a bath.”

“I’m not your princess, I’m your dear friend, aren’t I?” you ran your hand over his waist to catch the belt that freed his body. It didn’t take much time for you to pull all of the tunics he wore off his body through the head and now he stood in front of you half naked. He was thin, even thinner than you could’ve imagined through the layers of clothes he wore, you couldn’t remember him being that skinny that time you had a chance to take a glance at his body. You wondered if he starved during the campaign, but you weren’t about to ask. You captured in your head pictures of his stomach and chest, turning around in a millisecond to hide your eyes behind your palms.

“You should take off your braies and hose and get inside.” you listened to him shuffle behind.

“What is this smell?” you could imagine him scrunch his nose by the tone of his voice.

“It’s thyme. Kirsta always scents my baths with thyme.”

“Wow.” you heard a plop of water and assumed he got in, slowly turning around, just to make sure he could stop you in time.

“Is the water okay?”

“It is.” Jeno ran his fingers over his shoulder, splashing the water. “How did your servants get the hot water so quickly?”

“The rain water from the roofing is drained into cisterns that are quickly warmed up by fire.” Jeno nodded, rubbing the skin on his stomach with fingers. You kneeled down in front of the bathtub, the familiar aroma of thyme hitting your nose, resting your head on the edge of the tub. You raised your hand and picked up some water to wet his other shoulder, run your fingers over the skin in an attempt to help him clean up. “Wait!” you jumped up making Jeno startled. “While you were away, a merchant visited us. He was from the east and he showed all of the servants at the castle a whole variety of weird things. Kirsta was given a thing called soap. Apparently, she was told it’s good to use in a bath! I used it before and it gives an unusual smell to the skin. Wait, I’ll find it!”

“My princess, you don’t have to waste your gifts on me. A thyme bath is more than I’ve ever been offered.”

“Don’t lie. You’re from a well-off family, you were given all types of baths since you were a baby, just like I.” the soap laid on the only stool that was in the room, you quickly grabbed the foreign gift, dropping back on your knees in front of Jeno. “Here.” you opened a palm with a beige brick in it.

“What do I do with it?” he asked confused.

“Here.” your hand dipped into the water for a moment, rubbing your other hand over the wet soap, and running your fingers over Jeno’s chest. He watched the movement of your fingers quietly, watched you dip the bar once again with both of your hands and back out to rub against the surface of the soap and once again over new body parts of his. “Your sleeves.” he noted, touching the wet clothing on your lower arms. He squeezed out the water, rolling them up, as your fingers chaotically touched more and more of him.

“Does the soap feel good?” you asked excitedly.

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“I’m only focusing on how good your fingers feel.” he smiled at you, forcing your hands to jump away from his body. “They do feel pleasuring over the skin, my princess. I’m not sure if it’s the soap that helps to do so.” A heat wave ran over your face. In a rushed attempt to get up, the soap, surprisingly to you, slipped out of your hands, and as it drowned besides Jeno in the tub, you, in the same rushed manner reached out to catch it back, turning out to be unacceptably close to Jeno’s bare chest with your face, and grabbed the soap from the bottom, drenching the entire front part of your white linen night gown.

“My princess.” Jeno called out as his eyes focused on the wet material. “You’re shivering.” you could feel his eyes burn the new skin he was able to see. “I should hurry up.” he made an attempt to stand up but dropped back down on his knees. “I’ll get up, if you don’t mind…?” you nodded hurriedly and turned away. Your eyes ran over the shadows on the wall from Jeno’s body. You could work out by the sounds that he hurriedly washed away the soap from his body, throwing his clothes back on. You perked your ears up as the nature of sounds changed and he began to walk. You wanted to turn around and take a look at Jeno maybe, but his feet beat you in speed and now you could feel him behind with the back of your neck.

“My princess.” he whispered into your hair, slowly wrapping a hand over your shoulders. You gulped as his other hand ran fingers over your bare chest, sliding it under the gown, right between your breasts. He’d rarely act so bold, he’d rarely give you a touch or a word that could make your chest go heavy and your feet go weak. Jeno ran his fingers over your breast gently,cupping it from the underside. Your body heavied against his chest, the man’s fingers on your softest skin driving you immediately insane. “It’s always a torture to be separated from you. I am not able to take that any longer. I have to ask your father by the end of the month.” Your insides trembled at the mere thought of being completely his, to spend every night and day right next to his side, be loved and love and not be afraid to show it, be allowed to be his completely by your fathers. “But first I have to ask you, my love, if you would bare to live with me? With my job, smaller housing, less servants and other things that are… less. You only deserve to be offered much more than that, but it’s all that’s on me and I-.”

“I am.” you spoke back without missing a beat. “I would spend my entire life with you in a house the size of this bathroom. I’d rather spend it anywhere with you than in an arranged marriage with a prince from some unknown country, even he has to offer anything in this world. What matters is that all that would not compare to you.” your hands landed over Jeno’s forearms, gripping onto them for dear life.

“It’s all I needed to know. I have to get you back to bed quickly.” Jeno’s lips left a kiss on your bare shoulder.

“What do you usually wear to bed?” you asked as Jeno sat down onto your sheets after fifteen minutes of pleads when he tried to get back to his parents house, out of respect to your father and your chastity.

“I usually…. I usually sleep naked, love.”

“You do?” he nodded.

“Then I will too.” you simply stated, dropping the idea to call Kirsta for a clean gown. Your hands reached out for the material on the back to undo the laces that helped the cotton wrap your body perfectly, and pushed the fabric off the shoulders, allowing for the gown to leave you naked. Completely naked and exposed to Jeno’s eyes and for no explainable reason it felt like it was meant to be, but to be true, it was in fact meant to be. Jeno was about to ask your father to marry you and there was no more reason for the two of you to hold back the feelings that bubbled in your bodies every time you two stepped closer to each other.

Jeno ran his eyes over your figure quickly, and you wondered if he compared you to what he had imagined in his head the same way you did not a long time ago, moving them up to look you in the eye. He threw the tunic he wore off his body through the head and onto the floor. Your feet took you to the candle that lit up the room, bending over to blow it out. The room turned pitch black, you shivered, fearing the darkness you were not used to, shuffling your feet quickly to where the bed was. You worked out Jeno’s figure in the dim lighting of the moon through the window and watched him take off the rest of the clothing and roll onto the bed.

You followed after him, placing your body next to his.

“Are you not cold?” he asked, but his voice now sounded too loud through the pitch black air, so you whispered back.

“If I am I call out for Kirsta, she lights up a fire.”

“You’re still shivering, my love.” he whispered too, as his fingers ran over your forearm.

“It’s not the cold. It’s your touch.” you shivered even more, admitting.

“Is it?” he asked softly, moving his body closer to yours. Jeno touched your bare stomach with his fingers, drawing lines. You stiffened, not knowing how you were meant to act in a situation like that. You shivered and anticipated his next move. “Such a shame you extinguished the candle, I was hoping you’d read for me.” he sighed and laid his head over your chest, Jeno’s hand burning it’s print on your stomach.

“I could ask to light it back up.” you tried to move up from under him.

“I could light it back up myself.”

“You’re right... will you?”

“No, I don’t want this moment to go away.”

“You’ll get plenty of moments with me through your life.” you commented sheepishly.

“Not so many, if I’ll have to leave you for my duties.”

“Let’s not worry too much about that beforehand.” you pointed and touched his shoulder with your fingers.

“You’re fingers are freezing.” he commented, pulling onto your palm to move it under his cheek for warmth. “I want to always be honest with you, my princess. I’m scared to ask your father for his blessing, because that would mean I’ll have no other way but to sign you for a torturous life as my wife.”

“Why would it be torturous for me?” you chuckled. “You’re the same foolish little boy I’ve always known, I can’t believe folk have to call you Sir Jeno.”

“I am quite an honourable man.” his head raised from your body, making it easier for you to breathe.

“And I’m a princess, who’s only got two choices, to be assigned to a man I have never seen before like my older sister or to be tortured by your occasional absence but have the rest of the life with you right by my side. What would you pick yourself?”

“I… it would depend on how much I love.”

“Should I say that… those words, to you?”

“No. No, I want to hear it on our wedding day, and then, every day for the rest of our lives.”

“You’re so silly.” you chuckled at him, running your palm over his cheek. “You never want me to say it to you, never want to kiss me, even though I would not mind. My sister told me about things she does with her husband… I could do that with you, even if you’re not my official husband, I have nothing to be afraid of, to not trust you with these things.”

“You’re a princess, not only mine, of the whole kingdom. I should be cautious of your reputation and status. I’m already allowing you to force me into too much.” he dropped back next to you, losing all the contact. “Once we’re married… we’ll do what your sister told you, what I heard of, anything you’d want to but now… now I���ll have to run away early in the morning so no one except for your servant will see me.”

“I will hold on to your promise.” you turned onto your stomach. “I will hold on to every promise you ever gave me, because I trust in your devotion and loyalty to your princess.” you left a peck on his cheek, quickly dropping back and curling in bed.

-

“Milady.” three knocks on the door deafened the half empty room you were in.

“Kirsta?” you asked loudly and the girl ran inside. She moved in a quick manner, keeping her head low, but at the same time dropping all of the respectful gestures.

“Milady.” she dropped on her knees in front of your seat and you set the book in your hands aside, focusing your vision on the girl properly. Her face expression gave away the excitement that bubbled inside of her and almost blew her apart. “Sir Lee Jeno is here.” she was unable to hold her wide smile back, covering it with her palm for a moment. “He asked to see the King.” your heart jumped in your chest “I’m sure he’s here to ask for your fathers approval!” her voice got a tone lower “You’re going to get married soon!” she laughed bubbly, lowering her head again when a thought stroke her head. “Will you take me with you? Once you’re gone I have no job in this house.”

“Kirsta.”

“Yes, Milady.” the girl suddenly turned serious at the tone of your voice.

“Please find Sir Jeno before he leaves and take him here.”

“Of course.” she stretched out an innocent smile and tried to stand up, your hand catching her forearm.

“You didn’t tell anyone about his recent visit?“

“Which one?“ She blinked blankly. “I’m not sure I’ve seen Sir Jeno since he left.“

“Good.“ You nodded at her play pretend and let the girl go.

-

“Where have you been?“ You hissed, the sound of your voice echoing through the corridor, servants and guards at the Kings door turning their head at you. Your back straightened at the attention and as your hands smoothed out the front of your dress, you spoke in the most arrogant tone you could master on the spot. “How dare you disappear? What a nonsense for a princess to look for her servants!“

“Milady, I apologise.“ the girl lowered her head almost down to her knees. You turned around carelessly and walked down the corridor back to the bedroom, quick steps behind letting you know the girl followed.

“Where is Jeno?“ You voiced the words that were at the tip of your tongue for the whole walk back.

“Sir Lee Jeno left quickly.“ You turned to look at her shocked.

“He didn’t stay when you told him I asked for him?“ the tone of your voice jumped up and down as you spoke.

“I couldn’t talk to him.“ her eyes moved onto her feet.

“What do you mean?“

“When I was able to find him he was already heading down the stairs with one of the Kings guards. I was not allowed to follow them by guardians of the castle. I deeply apologise, milady.“ Her head automatically bowed.

“Why was he escorted by the guard?“

“I would not know, milady.“

“Fine.“ you sighed and dropped onto the chair.

“If you would ask me. I know you would not, but if I were you I wouldn’t worry myself. Sir Jeno is respected by your father.“

“I do not worry myself.“ You looked at the girl. “I want to write to my sister, leave me alone.“

“Of course.“ she moved her small feet towards the door and behind it.

You stretched out your arms lazily. You were worried because you didn’t get to see Jeno, you could speculate about the fact he came to ask for your fathers approval, but he could’ve visited the King for other reasons too. Why would he leave so mysteriously without wanting to see you? What if he got in trouble and asked for your fathers help? Your breath hitched as your thoughts ran all over the place. There was nothing better than to share your worries with someone very dear and close to your heart. You sat down to write to your sister.

“My dear Sister, my dear Lia,

I miss you every day I spend alone here at our house. I’ve been doing very well, my health’s been great for these past weeks, I hope you don’t worry yourself about me too much. The King has been doing well too, I don’t see him much, as we both have a lot of duties as princess and as the king. I hope to talk to him soon, because Sir Jeno promised to ask for his blessing for our marriage.

Could you believe? I’m going to marry Jeno, as I have dreamt all my life. When I was a little girl I would always tell you I wanted to marry only him, and you smiled at me with that face expression of yours, like I would understand the meaning of my words when I grow up, but here I am grown up and about to get married with the man I feel so much for. My heart is heavy because of you my sister who couldn’t experience the same. I’m still glad you could find love and happiness in your new home.

I hope you would be able to visit us for our wedding. I miss you so much.

Jeno, my dear Jeno, must’ve already asked our father for his blessing, as Kirsta told me he asked to see the King today, but I was not able to see him afterwards, as he was escorted by one of the guards.

I could lie to myself, but not to you, my dearest friend. I could not stop myself from worrying. I cannot stop myself from asking questions such as did he come to ask for the blessing or he got in trouble and asked for help? I could not remember a single instance when he was involved in something bad, but as I worry much by nature, I cannot help but to come up with terrible scenarios. What if he didn’t come to see me because of something terrible? I cannot stop thinking about these things, I…“ three knocks invaded your privacy.

“Dear princess, your father would like to see you.“ A boy peeked through the door.

“Give me a second.“ You barely could speak as excitement made the words get stuck in your throat. You crossed out the “I“ you wrote, starting a new sentence. “I was just asked to see the King by one of the servants! I can tell Father is going to tell me about the marriage! I can’t hold back my excitement! I have to run. I love you dearly,

Yours truly.“

You jumped up, folding the letter in half as you walked out the room. The boy stood next to it, expecting you. “Please find Kirsta and tell her to send this to my sister, okay?“

“Yes, but the King-“

“I am able to find the King myself, it is my house.“

“Of course.“ The boy bowed and you ran fast towards the needed room, slowing down as the door got closer to your eyes. “Father.“ You almost ran inside past everyone around. The man raised his eyes, calling out your name.

“I wanted to see you, darling.“

“Yes, I’m here.“ You scratched your palm with your fingers.

“We’re expecting guests in 2 days, be prepared.“ The smile on your face dropped.

“Prepared for what?“

“They’ll need someone to accompany them while here.“

“Of course.“ You bowed.

“I’m leaving for the most part of their visit, so I hope you could take good care of our guests.“

“Leaving? Why are they coming if you’re leaving?“

“They want to sell their supplies on our fairs, I am not much needed for the most part, just the last day to pay our respects. I have faith in you.“ You nodded quietly. “That’s it, you can go.“

“There’s nothing else you wanted to tell me?“

“I have something else, but I need to leave now. You can go, we’ll discuss it upon my return.“

“Please come back safely.“ You came closer to kiss your fathers hand and bowed to leave.

-

“I can see your expectant eyes, Kirsta.“ you smirked in an attempt to hold back a smile for no particular reason.

“When is your departure?“ She asked, pouring the water over your shoulders.

“What?“ You looked at her.

“Are you not leaving the house after marriage?“ Her fingers smoothed out soap and your throat tightened, thinking of Jeno.

“I have not had a conversation with the King about it yet.“

“Not yet?“ The girl spoke louder.

“The King left for a couple of days. We’re expecting guests in a day. They are completely on me. Afterwards, he said, we’re having a conversation.“ The girl opened her mouth and you had to stop her. “He did not specify what is the conversation about.“

“Of course, milady.“

“I wonder, if Jeno would come see me…while the King is away.“ you sighed.

“He will, Sir Jeno always comes to visit you.“ She helped you get up, dressing you for the night.

[moonmacabre01]

Last night I wrote a fanfic for the first time, figured I might as well post it here (fanfic under cut)

Midnight Pie

Bandee sat on his bed, staring out the window at the night sky beyond. “Another  sleepless night . . .” He mumbled to himself. They’d become more frequent lately, ever since the Jambadrans defeat. It’s been weeks now, but there was one thing he still couldn’t get out of his mind: the grinning, hollow face of void, a mockery of Kirby, his dearest friend. Speaking of . . . Bandee glanced at the phone sitting on his side table. ”Maybe talking to him would clear my mind” he thought as he started to reach for the phone before stopping. “No, he’s probably asleep” he let his nub fall back to his side, and turned his gaze back to the sky outside. His thoughts swirled round in long worn paths, trying already used keys on a locked door, before a sudden recollection stopped them. “Wasn’t there still apple pie leftover from dinner?” A smile flitted across the young dee’s face at the thought of his favorite food. “Might as well” he said to himself as he hopped off his bed and headed to the door.

“The castle always feels lonely at night”, the dee thought as he walked down the dim corridors down to the kitchen. He far preferred it at day, with all the other dees bustling about. The dark made him anxious, bringing up bad memories. He shuddered, and tried to push those thoughts away. “No need to think about that” he told himself, before coming to a stop as he noticed someone walking down the hallway ahead. “It can’t be his majesty, it’s too small,” Bandee thought as he observed the figure “and it’s the wrong shape for a dee. Could it be . . .” “Sir Meta Knight?” he called down the corridor. The figure stopped, and the glowing yellow eyes as he turned to face the dee confirmed his identity. “What are you doing here so late?” The dee said, hurriedly walking to join the knight. “I could say the same for you” Meta Knight replied “I’d expect you to be sleeping”. “I was just getting a snack” Bandee said, not wanting to mention the real reason he was awake, “Do you want to come with?” The swordsman seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then nodded. “I don’t see the harm.” The dee gave a small smile as way of reply, then started again on to the kitchen, Meta Knight following close.

Bandee squinted against the light as he opened the refrigerator door. His eyes searched the shelves, before coming to rest on the pie tin he was looking for. “Do you want some?” he asked the knight sitting at the nearby table “there’s enough for both of us”. Meta Knight paused for a moment, as if considering the offer. “Don’t tell anyone” He told the dee “but yes”. Bandee held back a giggle as he pulled a pair of plates out of a cupboard “Why would I want to tell anyone? It’s not like I’d get anything from it”. “Can’t be too careful” the knight replied stiffly as he watched the dee cut two slices of the pie and carefully place them on the plates. “I’ll go get some forks” Bandee said as he started toward a drawer. “No” Meta Knight replied, “I’ll get them. You go ahead and take a seat”. He fished out two forks at random and walked back to the table. Passing one to the dee, the knight pulled up his mask and started to eat. Bandee followed suit, enjoying the sweet taste of each bite. But . . . “Sir Meta Knight?” the swordsman paused mid bite, and turned to look at him. “I . . wasn’t entirely honest about why I was up earlier” Bandee whispered, staring at his plate. “Oh?” the knight blinked. Bandee wasn’t prone to discretion. “I’ve . . . I’ve been having a lot of sleepless nights recently. Ever since what happened . . .  in there. Inside Void Termina” the young dee’s voice started to waver, “I can’t seem to get it’s face out of my head”. “Oh . . . I see” Meta Knight whispered. Why was he taken back? It had been unsettling for everyone, seeing that . .  . thing mimicking Kirby’s face. “I understand,” he told the dee, extending a wing comfortingly around him, “It shook me too”. “Really?” Bandee looked at the swordsman in surprise. “Really” Meta Knight nodded, “But while I can’t tell you why it chose to mimick Kirby, I do know it’s gone now”. “Let’s hope” Bandee replied quietly, and took another bite of pie. Meta Knight gave a small smile, and turned his attention back to his piece.

“You know you don’t have to walk me back to my room, sir Meta Knight” Bandee whispered as the two walked again down the castle’s quiet corridors. “Perhaps,” the swordsman replied, face once again covered by his mask “But I’ll do so anyways”. The dee began to reply, but whatever it was was interrupted by a yawn. “Excuse me,” he laughed, rubbing at an eye “I guess my exhaustion’s catching up to me”. Meta Knight nodded in agreement “Try and get some sleep tonight”. “I’ll try.” Bandee said, before stopping outside of his door. The knight started to turn back, but then “Sir Meta Knight?” “Hmm?” the swordsman turned back to the dee standing in the doorway. “Thank you for keeping me company” Bandee whispered, before turning and stepping back into his room. The knight stood there as the door closed, before smiling under his mask, “It was my pleasure, Bandee”. Then he turned and walked back down the dark corridor, hoping that maybe now, Bandee will sleep a little more peacefully.

______________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading <3

[bucketsofmonsters]

To Kill the King - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

find the full book here

If Everand had to hear one more story he swore to the heavens his knight wouldn’t live to see another morning. Not that that would be any great loss. Mornings on the road were as close to hell as Everand could imagine. Animals had run away with most of their food while Leo was meant to be keeping watch, keeping warm was near impossible, and he was only half sure that they hadn’t gotten lost. His travelling partner wasn’t helping matters.

“Are you listening Everand?” Leo called from atop his horse.

“Yes sir, of course sir.” He was going to strangle him. Everand didn’t even attempt to feign a smile, but of course the knight didn’t turn to look. He rode quietly, trailing behind and barely even trying to focus on what was being said to him.

Leo cleared his throat after Everand’s reassurance. “As I was saying, I have a good feeling about this one. When the world closes a door it opens a window and this is our window. Who needed that door anyways when this window is clearly superior?”

“I would have liked to have the door.” Everand grumbled, pulling back on Lilypad’s reins to ensure he wouldn’t have to ride side by side with Leo. She slowed in perfect synchronization with his request and he gave her a soft pat. 

“What was that lad?”

“Nothing sir, nothing at all.”

“Yes, right. Well, I’ve heard wonderful things about King Richard, better things than I ever heard about that bastard Edgar anyways. So even if this whole banishing situation was something that transpired because of someone, well even then, it isn’t really a negative. In fact, if anything, we should be crediting the party that created this opportunity.”

Everand could not have this conversation again. At this point even the horses must have it memorized. Diverting it hadn’t worked, his new tactic was to try and get him to skip chunks of this discussion so it could be over sooner. “I’ve even heard they have a princess they want to marry off, isn’t that right sir?”

“We’re heading to a better kingdom, one where I can command the respect that I deserve! A kingdom that will properly utilize all of my strengths, one that will allow me to reach new heights. The king even has a daughter. I’ve heard he’s having trouble marrying her off. They say she is as beautiful as… as the springtime, as the moon. There’s rumors that she’s cursed but if she’s as beautiful as they say, perhaps a noble knight could find a way to break it. Things are turning around for me now, Everand, I can feel it.”

So that hadn’t worked. The squire cursed under his breath. He’d have to try a new tactic the next time around. He made a noise that he hoped would be interpreted as vague agreement and returned to ignoring the man. 

As much as Leo had been trying to convince him otherwise with his little speech, they were both in a waking nightmare and it was aggressively Leo’s fault. But of course Everand got pulled into it, that’s how it always worked. Leo did whatever he wanted and Everand suffered the consequences. It had never happened to quite this extent before, but he was anything but surprised. He probably should have guessed that this was where they were headed years ago. Not this new kingdom to which they were travelling blindly, but this level of disaster. 

Leo was probably still talking. He never really stopped, but Everand never found it hard to ignore. Especially out riding like this. Even when he tried to focus it was hard to not get wrapped up in the other noises, the wind blowing through the grass, the buzzing of insects around them, the stamping of the horses’ hooves. Lilypad always stepped more carefully. Her hooves sounded softer and they had more intention behind them. Destrier, on the other hand, was always as loud in his steps as was possible. Not that it was his fault, Leo wouldn’t stop enforcing that behavior in the poor creature. The sounds of the world were far more interesting and pressing than whatever made-up adventure Leo was trying to convince Everand that he went on that Everand had somehow mysteriously missed. 

Everand pulled back on the reins for half a heartbeat, sensing that something had changed. He quickly ushered Lilypad to start again, not wanting him to appear suspicious in case something malicious was watching. And then, all at once, Everand realized that the ambiance of the path around him had shifted. The squire put all of his focus into trying to discern the source of the shift in noise. As they continued onwards, it became increasingly evident that they were approaching a town. He allowed himself to untense and felt a wave of relief run through him. Not only would he soon be free of all the alone time he was getting with Leo, but they would also be able to resupply. He could survive on shortened rations, but the horses wouldn’t understand why they were being fed significantly less and he’d rather not put them through that. 

There were a few more minutes of listening to the bustle of civilization getting closer before Leo broke Everand’s concentration by shouting “Stop!” at the top of his lungs whilst yanking on Destrier’s reins. Everand brought Lilypad to a halt, waiting to see what invaluable advice the knight had to share this time. 

“Do you see that, my lad? Over that next hill? I believe it’s the town surrounding our new king’s distinguished home.”

“I think you might be right. Good eye, sir.”

They rode right by the town, barely a breath from the nearest structure. Everand trusted Lilypad to follow in Destrier’s footsteps, staring for longer than he should have at the buildings as they passed. He didn’t particularly want to go there, he had no great love for civilization in any form. However, it was certainly better than the towering silhouette of stone walls that they were riding towards. They had no plan to get in, no plan if they got turned away, and Everand had no plan for what he was going to do whether or not they were let into the castle. He’d figure it out when they got there. God, he sounded like Leo.

He was jolted back to reality as he realized that they were at the gates of the castle. Leo was already talking to one of the guards stationed at the doors. Everand hoped he hadn’t missed anything too vital and did his best to appear squirely. 

“We seek an audience with the king.”

The guard seemed very confused which wasn’t a great sign. “Who are you two?”

“I am Sir Leo and this is my squire.”

“So you’re a knight of where exactly?”

Uh oh. 

“Well, of here hopefully.”

Everand appreciated the apparent attempt to confuse the guard into letting them see the most important man in the kingdom. Somehow, this did not seem to convince him. Everand figured he’d give it a shot. “Hello, sir, we’ve been sent by King Edgar to serve King Richard, as a sign of peace between the two lands. Sir Leo here was one of his finest knights.”

He prayed that it didn’t contradict anything Leo had already said. It wasn’t the cleanest lie but it was certainly better than whatever his knight was attempting to peddle. The man seemed to be considering it when the guard on the other side of the door decided to join in on the conversation. “I’ve heard tales of Sir Leo, are you really he?”

Leo’s face lit up. “Aye, I am. See, everything is in order.”

The guard they’d been speaking to seemed unsure. “Do you swear it is you, Sir Leo?”

“I do, on my mother’s grave.”

“Well, this is on your head, not mine. You shall have your meeting.” 

[bitchinbarzal]

28. “don’t you dare touch me” with william nylander if you don’t mindd:)

It had all happened so fast, you never usually sat at the glass always in the box but you’d asked William specifically as the other girlfriends had gotten their seats down at the glass.

It was Florida fans, they’d started the fight in the stands behind you before people got physical and started pushing and shoving.

People were behind pushed down the stairs and pushed over railings, falling into the seats beside you or trying to grab at you guys.

The space next to you was empty, it was where the in house presenters would stand and so you started to let the girls pass to climb over into safety, passing the kids over too.

The boys on the bench were all watching the commotion now they’d seen it.

“I think the girls are all climbing down, hey will someone go round and make sure they’re alright?” John asked anyone behind the bench, the social media team had responded saying they would radio round.

William was watching for you, your bright blue jacket wasn’t hard to miss - of course you were helping others.

Everyone was over, except you. You stood on the chair with your white boots just about to climb over the railing when someone was pushed from behind you, flying down into you causing you both to fall into the screen, smashing the glass and landing on the ice.

You felt winded, like all of the air had been knocked out of you as this man lay on top of your body.

William had seen it, they all had shouting your name and skating over. There were other fans that had fallen through, all groaning in pain and security had climbed through to pick up the guilty parties.

Willy was leaning down to see you when security grabbed his arm, he ripped it back “don’t you dare touch me! That’s my girlfriend asshole, go do your job!”

“Will?” You croaked, reaching out for him.

He kneeled down “Yeah, i’m here Angel” before calling out for Paul who was rushing over from the bench to you.

“Hey y/n, how you doing kid?” He asked, kneeling down next to you.

“I’ve been better” you replied, causing them both to laugh “you’ve looked better, no offence! Okay… you don’t seem to have any immediate concussion signs so if you’re good to stand I’ll bring you back out past the bench and we’ll have you looked at properly in the back”

You agreed, slowly standing up now the fan wasn’t crushing your windpipe.

William was on one side of you while Rasmus skates over to your other to hold you up as you’re clearly limping “My knights in shining skates” you joked.

Later, after the game once you’d been switched up in your cut on your head and had been fully assessed you found William.

“You Will be sitting your cute butt in the box from now on”

“Sir, yes, Sir” you joked, mocking a salute.

He pulled you into him “I’m serious. I’m so glad you’re ok”

“I couldn’t let you have all the spotlight clearly”

[silverysongs]

Arthur is late one morning to breakfast. Guenevere doesn’t think too much about it; he’s cheerful as usual, apologizes even though she tells him he doesn’t have to. (She doesn’t have to say You’re the king. She doesn’t say I don’t mind waiting for you.) Breakfast proceeds as usual, and it’s not until it’s over that she notices something is wrong.

He stands—practically bounces out of his chair—and then sways, very slightly. He catches himself on the table. Guenevere doesn’t miss the way he swallows and stares at the plate he’s left behind.

“Your majesty,” she says, watching his face, “are you well?”

Now his head snaps up. “Perfectly,” he says, smiling, and his eyes are bright—too bright, she thinks. She opens her mouth to protest, but he announces, “My good queen, today we are going to change the world, just wait and see.”

“I’ll be waiting and watching,” she says wryly as they start down the hall. He takes her hand as they walk along, which sends a flash of surprise through her—but she doesn’t say anything more. Sometimes he is impulsive in his affections, her king, like when he leaves flowers on her vanity, or when he asks her favorites in the middle of a conversation. It’s endearing, the way he flits from thing to thing, and always with that boyish grin when she surprises him—

Suddenly he presses her hand very hard. When she looks up at him, his face is pale. “Your majesty, what is it?” she asks.

He smiles, but it’s clearly painful. “Genny,” he whispers, and then he’s falling against her, almost collapsing but his boots are scuffing the floor, trying to find his footing. She struggles to hold his weight up, wraps her arms around him like a desperate lover’s embrace.

“Your majesty? Your majesty,” she says urgently. “Arthur, what’s wrong? Are you going to faint?”

He huffs a laugh against her hair, reaching outwards—for the wall, she realizes, and tries to guide him so he can lean against the stone instead of her poor support. “I must confess,” he says, voice weak, “I do feel a little lightheaded.”

“Well, sit down,” she demands, masking imperiousness over her panic. “I’ve—I’ve heard it’s good to put your head between your legs. It’ll get the blood flowing to your head.”

He slides down the wall, still grasping her hand tightly, and she does her best to help him settle, sitting down beside him. After a moment he takes a deep breath and raises his head to look at her. “Well,” he says, “I don’t suppose I’m going to the Table this morning.”

She wants to scoff at him, but he looks so miserable, even smiling. “You’re quite flushed,” she notes, reaching for his face; and then, feeling it, “Oh, Arthur, you’re burning up.”

“Not literally, I hope,” he says, “because I feel quite cold.”

“Arthur,” she says. “Stop making jokes.”

“Do you know, this is the most you’ve called me by my name instead of your majesty?”—and there is a tease in his voice but his eyes, though fever-touched, are soft.

Footsteps round the hall, and Guenevere turns away. “Oh, Sir Kay,” she says with some relief, as the knight stops and looks at his sovereigns sitting against the wall. “The king is ill. Would you please help him back to his rooms?”

“Certainly, your majesty,” Kay intones. Arthur groans as the knight hauls him off the floor. “Not sure I was up for standing yet, Kay,” he manages, and Kay slings an arm around his shoulders.

“Please rest, your majesty,” Guenevere says.

He smiles; he’s always smiling. “Go to the meeting, Genny,” he says. “You know all the policy. Go change the world—since I’m not fit to do it today.”

“Make sure he actually lies down,” she tells Kay. Kay, already looking beleaguered—perhaps familiar with the king’s flightiness—nods.

She watches them for a moment, then shakes herself. Nothing to do but go to the meeting alone.

--

It’s a few hours into the meeting and she’s half-heartedly listening to Lionel and Sagramore argue for the twentieth time that morning when Sir Kay slips into the room. She meets his eyes with a smile, expecting him to take his seat at the Table, but instead he makes his way behind her to speak in her ear.

“Your majesty,” he says quietly.

“Sir Kay,” she murmurs, trying to keep her eye on Lionel as he gesticulates wildly. “How is the king?”

“He’s asked for you,” Kay says. “Repeatedly.”

She looks at him, astonished, but keeps her voice low. “For me? Whatever for?”

Kay looks uncomfortable. “He’s very insistent, milady. He sounded…”

Now the panic is beginning to creep up her chest again. “He sounded what?”

“Very desperate,” he says. “Ma’am.”

For a moment she’s frozen, hearing Sagramore’s reply but not comprehending any of the words. She has to make a choice.

“Excuse me,” she interrupts. Twelve heads swivel in her direction, and she clasps her hands in her lap as a way to keep hold of her composure. “Thank you, gentlemen. Something urgent has come up that I must attend to.”

“Is everything all right, your majesty?” Dinadan pipes up.

Her first instinct is to lie, but she knows that if the king’s illness is actually serious, she’ll have to tell them eventually. “I hope so, Dinadan,” she says carefully. She sweeps her gaze around the Table. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow at the same time.”

If the king is better, she doesn’t say. She can see curiosity, doubt, maybe even hostility on some of the knights’ faces—Lionel looks particularly suspicious—but she turns her back on them and leaves the room.

Kay catches up with her in the hall. “Ma’am.”

Annoyance rears its head; she had been relieved to be able to show her true feelings on her face walking alone. “Yes, Kay, what is it?”

“I was just going to escort you, your majesty,” he says, undeterred by the irritation in her voice. He pauses. “And to tell you—you did well in there.”

She glances up at him. He sounds genuine. And, now that his small kindness is extinguishing her frustration, she can admit that she likes him. There’s a steadiness about him, a quiet security that isn’t threatened by ego, so unlike the other knights. She remembers suddenly that Kay is Arthur’s cousin, the same that led Arthur to pull the sword in an attempt to find a blade for a trivial tournament. He does not seem jealous of Arthur’s position; he does what his king asks, without complaint. And now, somehow knowing that she feels inadequate in this crisis, he compliments her. What a strange man.

“Thank you,” she says, a bit awkwardly. They walk in silence for a few moments. “You must love him very much,” she says finally, as they round a corner.

The twist of a smile. “Oh, he makes me want to throttle him sometimes, your majesty,” he says. “But. Yes. I do.”

“I haven’t known him for nearly as long,” she says, fighting her own smile, “but I feel much the same way.”

She’d meant the throttling, but he looks at her for a long moment. Whatever he sees in her face, he nods at. “I’m sure you do, ma’am,” he says quietly.

--

Kay doesn’t tell her anything more about the king’s condition, just leads her to the door of the king’s room and leaves with a bow. She has to shake off the sudden apprehension she feels standing in front of the door, alone. Arthur’s voice is coming faintly through the wood, and that must be a good sign. If he was silent, she reasons, pulling the handle, then she would know something was wrong. Perhaps her fears had been misplaced. Maybe he thought of an idea and simply had to share it with her. She will feel foolish for ending the meeting early, but there are worse things than feeling foolish.

She can see the king chattering at the physician as she approaches the bed. “—just lie still, your majesty,” the physician is saying, sounding haggard, but he turns at her approach. “Ah, my queen,” he greets, bowing hastily. “I’ll leave you—I must get a few things from my apothecary—”

He bustles out of the room before she can ask about the king’s condition.

“Your majesty,” she says, turning to the bed, perching on the chair the physician had left behind. The king in nightclothes now, covered up to his waist by a thick quilt, but he doesn’t look much better than he had in the hallway—pale except for the color high in his cheeks, hair a little mussed. And, she notes, looking closer, not entirely present. He’s quiet now, not looking at her, focused on something in the distance. It’s a familiar expression—when he is really deep in thought, he’ll adopt the same look, standing still in the middle of a room—made chilling by the glassiness of his eyes.

“Your majesty,” she repeats, concerned, “you were asking for me?”—and now he seems to hear her, because his head twitches and his eyes settle on her face.

“Oh, Genny!” he cries. “Merlyn was telling me we’d lost the war in France, but I told him I’d show you to him and prove him wrong. See, Merlyn”—and he’s looking away.

“Your majesty,” she says carefully, “there’s no one here but us.”

He looks at her, blinks dazedly, and there, he seems to see her again. “You are really here, aren’t you?” he murmurs, soft, unsure, raising a hand slowly as if to touch her. “You’re not something I dreamed up?”

Oh, and what if he’s gone mad? What if the fever has taken his brain and she’s left to rule this stoic, cultureless country alone? She tries to take a deep breath. Fevers give terrible dreams sometimes, she reminds herself, and maybe this is something like that. “No, your majesty,” she answers him.

“We really did win the war in France?” His breath is shallower than usual. “Sometimes I thought we’d be fighting forever, you know, just hacking away at the country until it was a bloody piece of meat. I’m not very good with a spear but I can use a sword alright. I don’t know how many people I killed. I don’t ever want to know.”

She is stunned at how forlorn he sounds. “You won the war,” she whispers. “You won me.”

“And then we traded one kind of death for another,” he continues hopelessly, “except it was your death, because we took your choice from you. I can’t begin to apologize for that, I can’t—”

The physician returns then, shattering the moment, and she’s too much in shock still to do much of anything but get out of his way.

“Your majesty, you must rest,” he chides the king. “Here, take this, it will help you to sleep—”

He helps Arthur drink the foul-looking draught he’s brought from the apothecary. It must taste as bad as it looks, for Arthur makes a face. “Merlyn,” he mumbles.

“Rest, milord,” the physician intones, gathering up his empty bottles on the nightstand. Guenevere watches as Arthur shuts his eyes. His brow smooths over. In moments, he’s asleep, vulnerable as a child.

“Is it—” she whispers, and the physician seems to realize she’s still in the room. At his probing look she clears her throat softly. “Is it a—dangerous sickness?”

The physician—she finally remembers his name is Gaius—sighs. “It might not be,” he admits. “It’s the season for fever, milady. Several of the knights have had some form of it in the last few weeks.”

“But?”

“But,” he continues, looking more grave, “it is a higher fever than I’ve seen recently. You’ve seen his moments of delirium. If it doesn’t pass in the next day or so—”

She has no thought for her expression, too caught in the tempest of worry building in her chest, but he must see something in her face because he stops and smiles, grandfatherly. “I’m getting ahead of myself,” he says.

“His dreams,” she says woodenly, meaning to ask a question, not remembering what she had wanted to say. The physician nods as though she had made perfect sense.

“The king has had vivid dreams just about as long as I’ve known him, your majesty. The fever seems to make them more palpable. It’s not a particularly bad sign.”

She swallows, trying not to think about Arthur’s pained expression. “What can be done?”

Gaius gathers up his medicine kit. “Watch and pray, milady,” he says. “I’ll send word if the king is better tomorrow.”

[rynmaru]

Graduation

“Alright, that’s enough! Take five and get some water.”

Morien reached to help his sparring partner to her feet, slapping her on the back and earning a grin in return as he jogged over to the side of the ring to grab a water bottle and take a long swig. What he didn’t finish he poured over his head where it quickly soaked his buzzed blonde hair.

“Sir Morien.”

He turned, seeing a page standing at attention nearby.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Morien offered a reassuring smile, hoping to get the boy to relax.

“Lady Galahad has requested you meet with her in her office immediately,” the page said, eyes darting around to avoid looking at the almost-knight who towered over him. Morien remembered what that had felt like, though his sympathy was completely obscured by the feeling of his stomach twisting into anxious knots at the message.

What did his mother want with him in the middle of a training day?

He masked his anxiety smoothly, however, and nodded.

“Thank you. I’ll be right there.”

The page gave him an awkward salute and scurried away towards the drill instructor, presumably to inform him that Morien would be leaving the rest of that training session.

Heaving a sigh, Morien began the walk to the headmistress’s office, exiting the courtyard of the barracks and turning towards the north administrative wing. His long strides brought him through the series of uniform hallways to a more ornate section in a matter of minutes. He stopped in front of a huge mahogany door, carved with an intricate design of vines and flowers, and took a steadying breath.

He wiped his hands on his pants to make sure they were clean before he knocked.

“Come in.”

Opening the door, Morien stepped inside, blinking in the brilliance of the sunbathed room, illuminated by the floor to vaulted ceiling windows. Calista Galahad sat behind her desk in an imposing leather chair that managed to dwarf even her tall frame. Her gold and lily-white dress looked almost out of place in its elegance considering her position as head administrator for Round Table, the top personal guard training facility in the system, but Morien knew her better than that. He was well aware of the steel resolve and rapier intellect she wielded. It was the reason she had sat behind that desk longer than any other administrator.

He saluted, “Good afternoon, Lady Galahad.”

His mother barely glanced up from what she was working on.

“Morien, good. I’m glad you came. We need to talk.”

His stomach dropped. That never boded well. Perhaps his training scores had dropped or maybe he had been too rough with a classmate. Mother never took a personal interest unless it was something serious.

“At ease. Please, take a seat.”

Doing as he was told, Morien crossed to the one chair set directly across from his mother in almost the dead center of the room, his footsteps muffled on the plush carpet. He should have double checked that he had wiped his feet well before entering.

He wanted to know why he had been called in, but knew better than to speak up. The extended silence and the perusing of documents on her desk may indicate that the floor was open, but in this office it never really was. So he sat mute. As always.

Finally his mother looked up, turning her dark brown eyes on him, her gaze raking him from head to toe, searching for any flaw, no matter how minuscule.

He somehow managed to square his shoulders and straighten his spine even more.

“Your graduation is this weekend, isn’t it?” The cool, detached tone made Morien’s throat tighten with an emotion he couldn’t name. Maybe anger. Maybe hurt.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And how do you feel about that? Qualified? Nervous? Excited?”

Morien hesitated, unsure where the unusually personal questions were coming from.

“I feel as though I’ve been thoroughly prepared to step into my role as personal guard for my ward.”

“I see. So you’ve tailored your skills to be the perfect bodyguard for him?”

“No, ma’am, that would be shortsighted. I’m more than prepared to handle any situation regardless of if I’m guarding my ward or him and his family as a whole.”

“More than prepared…” Calista Galahad gathered the papers she had been reading over, tapping them against the surface of the desk to bring them into a unified whole. “Confidence is commendable, but be careful it doesn’t turn to arrogance. Arrogance gets you killed.”

Morien tensed, that had been a stupid choice of words on his part.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s a good thing you have prepared yourself for an array of potential wards.”

“Ma’am?”

A pause. A held breath. The second before the gavel strikes.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news regarding your future employment.”

Calista leaned on the desk, folding her hands together as she gazed at her son across the barricade that was her desk. Her gaze softened, and Morien knew this meant the news was something catastrophic.

“Theodore Triumvirate is dead.”

The bottom dropped out of Morien’s stomach and he gripped the arms of his chair tightly.

“Excuse me…can you say that again…?”

Calista sighed softly and nodded, “Theodore Triumvirate is dead, Morien. He was killed in an attempted kidnapping last night.”

Morien stared at his mother, a storm of emotion brewing on his normally neutral face. Shock. Confusion. Grief. Anger. Fear.

“I understand that this is a lot to process,” standing, Calista walked around the wall of her desk and approached her son, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Before we discuss anything further, I want to remind you that his death is not your fault. It did not happen while he was your ward, you were not capable of stopping the attack from here, and this will have no poor reflection on you for your future prospects. You will, of course, receive the highest recommendation from the Galahad family wherever you go seeking employment.”

Looking up, Morien had to turn his head to properly see his mother. He recognized the expression of sympathy she wore, it was one skillfully created for just such occasions. His mother never ceased being the daughter of a diplomat it seemed, even after marrying into the Galahad family.

“What do you mean “seeking employment”? I…I can be transferred to another Triumvirate ward, right?”

The crafted expression his mother wore softened around the eyes and the mouth into something far more complex. Sympathy. Regret. Concern.

“There are no other Triumvirates requesting personal guards at this time.”

Her words simply did not register. That couldn’t be right.

“If…if it’s a lot of paperwork I can help with that, I don’t mind.”

“Morien-“

“Or I can squire for Lance or Kay. Just until one of their wards have children. Be ready for when that happens-“

“Morien.”

“Or maybe-“

“Morien!” His mother’s raised voice snapped his focus back to her, eyes pleading, hands gripping the arms of the chair tight enough to crack the lacquered polish on the wood, clinging to the last shred of hope that perhaps the situation was not completely unsalvageable.

“There are no other Triumvirate wards to guard and squiring is beneath someone of your skill set. Should the time come where a new child is born or a new family is brought in, you will be the first we call to connect with them. But for now you will have to seek out other employment.”

Morien’s head dropped down, his grip on the chair relaxing as he slumped forward and put his head in his hands. Calista gave his shoulder a squeeze and then returned to her desk, sitting down and reaching for one of the many folders stacked before her, pulling it from the lower middle of the pile.

“Your father and I have discussed this situation and have agreed that you may stay at the family home for three months, during which time you are expected to be actively seeking out new employment and accommodations. With your skill set, finding such things should not pose much of a challenge. We will also provide you with several contacts who may be able to get you in touch with potential wards, but the burden of action is on you. Your stay at the family home ends a month from your graduation date, no exceptions.”

Morien lifted his head and sat up straight, the clipped, briefing style communication woke the soldier in him and the soldier knew how to control his emotions. These were just orders, and orders he could act on.

He nodded as his mother paused to allow for a response.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Calista tapped the folder with one finger, “I will give you this when you graduate, it will contain all the pertinent information to get you started.”

She fixed him with a stern gaze. “And one more thing, Morien. We do not need to know where you end up, but I would remind you that your duty to the Galahad legacy is something that remains paramount regardless of who you work for. Your actions will always reflect on the family. Never forget that you are a Galahad. Always act like one. Understood?”

Jaw set, Morien nodded again, curtly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sitting back, Calista’s shoulders relaxed, a sure sign that the conversation was wrapping up. For once, Morien wished it wouldn’t. He needed the distraction. Something to hold his focus other than the utter ruin of his future.

“I’m sure you have a lot you would like to process. I’ve cleared your schedule for the rest of the day-“

“Excuse the interruption, ma’am,” Morien spoke up quickly. “I would like to continue with my schedule for today. My training is my priority and I want to make the most of the time I have remaining here at the barracks.”

Calista paused, raising an eyebrow, then nodded, seeming pleased with his response.

“Very good, Morien. Your dedication is admirable. You may return to your training as usual.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Morien stood, shifting to a position of military ease as he waited to be told he could leave.

“One last thing, Morien. Have you submitted your callsign request?”

“Not yet, ma’am. I’ve not…decided.”

“The deadline to decide was yesterday, Morien.”

So why did she ask if she already knew he had not submitted the request? Typical.

“I know. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“The time for deliberation is over. If you have an idea, that’s what you’ll have to go with or we will have one assigned to you.”

The very suggestion of that made Morien sick. Just one more thing he wouldn’t have control over.

“I…I can provide one now.”

Calista nodded and picked up a pen as she took a sheet of paper from his file and pushed it across the desk towards him.

“Permission to approach, ma’am?”

“Permission granted.”

Morien loosened his posture and walked over. He had to stoop to write his name on the page. It was underlined in red, but his mother still tapped it with one French manicured finger like he would miss it. He hesitated as the nib of the pen touched the paper, ink pooling and spreading in the fibers. Hesitation was not becoming of a Galahad. He wrote his name and pushed the paper back to his mother.

Calista took it, looking it over as she put the pen back in a black and silver container and lined it up with the others within perfectly. A complete matching set, not a single member out of place.

“Mordred.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“An interesting choice.”

Morien did not respond to that. He doubted his mother cared to hear the reasoning behind it.

The silence stretched as Calista filed the paper away neatly and put Morien’s folder in a nearby filing drawer.

“Dismissed, Mordred.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Turning sharply on his heel, he exited the office. The massive mahogany door clicked shut behind him, but he did not allow himself time to linger or decompress from the conversation. There was no time for that. Squaring his shoulders, Mordred returned to his training.

[pigeonwhumps]

Wulfric returns

Out of the Frying Pan masterlist

Whumptober masterlist

Day 21: FAMOUS LAST WORDS | coughing up blood | "you're safe now" | "take me instead"

Taglist: @annablogsposts

After five years of relative peace, Elis' whumper returns.

3.3k

CWs: conditioned whumpee, past abuse, attempted murder

Elis ducks into an alcove at the sound of footsteps and voices. He’s not supposed to be in this corridor, not now, but he is and he’s just thinking of running when the voices come into hearing range and he freezes. There’s King Leofric, yes, there’s always the King, it’s his castle after all, but his companion sends a shiver down Elis’ spine. At the sight of him Elis lets out a small whimper, hastily-stifled, fighting not to drop to his knees and bow as he once had to do.

“I was sorry to hear about the loss of your ward.”

“Yes, it was unfortunate. He was... powerful. I was saddened by his loss. But it was five years ago now.”

“Nevertheless, is there anything I can do? I wasn’t able to be there for you at the time, but I’m here now.”

“No, no. Just your company is good enough. Although I find myself under greater threat over the past few years, since I lost him.”

“Perhaps some protection?”

“Well, if you insist.”

“Of course, my friend.” Neither of them are looking his way but Elis presses himself closer to the wall anyway, squeezing his eyes shut, desperate not to be seen. “Now, let us discuss...”

The conversation dies away after the two turn a corner away from him, but Elis doesn’t move. He can’t.

Lord Wulfric’s back.

_

It feels like hours later and yet no time at all when someone shakes Elis out of his daze.

“Elis? Elis can you hear me?”

Elis opens his eyes to see a man with long brown hair and a painted black band across his face crouched in front of him, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Sæwin?”

“Oh thank the gods. What happened? You were completely out of it.”

“Wulfric,” he whispers, every muscle tensing at the name. Sæwin frowns.

“Lord Wulfric? He’s visiting, yes, but... what’s he got to do with you?”

“He’s the one who made me fight and kill and I didn’t want to but he made me and I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Elis. You don’t need to apologise. Can you get up, do you think?”

“I–” Elis looks around, noticing their surroundings for the first time. He’s on the floor of the alcove, sitting on his heels, everything locked up tight. “I think so.”

Sæwin holds out a hand and Elis flinches slightly, then places his own hand in the physician’s and lets Sæwin pull him to his feet. He wobbles as his muscles unlock.

“Easy, Elis, I’ve got you. Let’s get you home.”

Elis pulls away before they start walking, it’s weak for him to lean on someone and they’re not allowed to be weak, it’s bad to be weak, he’ll be punished if he’s weak, but Sæwin catches his hand and squeezes it.

“You’re drifting again.”

“Sorry, sir.” Elis blinks away the illusion of the estate, feeling a warm, calloused palm. It’s Sæwin beside them. Sæwin Sæwin Sæwin. No-one else.

“It’s all right.”

They make their way through the castle and the bustling citadel to the townhouse, Elis struggling to keep his head high despite wanting to duck down and hide. Col says he should take pride in himself despite everything he’s done.

Elis pulls off his boots as a large black cat trots up to him and winds around his legs, purring loudly. He scratches her on the head, marvelling at how much she’s grown over the last few years. Mabel fit into the palm of his hand when they took her in, but not anymore. He picks her up and drapes her front paws over his shoulder, supporting her with his left hand.

“Hello Mabes. You been a good girl today?”

“Col?” Sæwin calls. “Are you home?”

Col appears at the end of the hallway, wiping his hands on his apron, the red colour of his hair ribbon matching the painted band on his face. A knight’s band, as opposed to Sæwin’s black physician’s one. Elis tries to keep the facts in his mind to distract himself from his thoughts. “I was just baking, since we gave the servants a holiday. Can’t you smell it?”

“I can smell burning,” remarks Sæwin. Col makes a face, before striding forward and giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“Why are you back so early? Not that I’m complaining, but I thought you were both working today.”

At this reminder Elis gasps. “The messages!”

“It’s all right, I have the bag here. I’ll deliver them on my way back to the castle.”

“Thank you.”

Sæwin nods. “As to what happened, Lord Wulfric is a worse man than we thought.”

Elis shudders and Col turns to him, looking him over, concerned. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”

Elis swallows. No no he’s not all right but he can’t just say that, he’s not allowed to be emotional.

“Breathe, Elis. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He holds Mabel tightly, her thick fur grounding him. “Wulfric hurt me. Not now I don’t mean now, before.”

Col’s eyes darken and Elis flinches. “Was Wulfric the one who tried to turn you into a weapon?” Elis nods. “That bastard.”

“Col, you can’t kill him,” says Sæwin dryly. Col scowls.

“I know that. Do you have a plan then?”

“I want to bandage Elis’ brand and then I need to get back to work. If that’s all right with you, Elis.” Elis nods. He needs to hide it, he can’t risk Wulfric or his entourage seeing it, and he doesn’t like bandages no but he likes even less what will happen if Wulfric realises who he is.

What he is.

A monster. A killer. Wulfric’s trained killer, and Wulfric will recognise him and beat him or lock him in the basement or force him to–

Something touches his arm and he jumps, raising his arms to shield himself. Something heavy falls off him with a meow.

“Sweetheart. Elis. Breathe. You’re safe. It’s just Col and Sæwin and Mabel with you.” Elis looks up into Wulfric’s concerned face.

No, Col’s. Elis shakes his head to clear it. Wulfric would be angry, not concerned, it’s Col. Col Col Col.

“You back with us?” Elis blinks a yes. “Good. That’s good. Can you stand?”

Oh. Elis didn’t even notice he was on the floor again. He tries to push himself upright but his mind rebels, in fear of punishment. He blinks twice.

“All right. I’ll carry you. You’re safe, sweetheart. Safe.”

Col rubs his back and he gasps, movement coming back in a rush. He loops his arms around Col’s neck, clinging on, burying his head in Col’s shoulder, because he’s allowed to do that now, with Col and Sæwin, he doesn’t have to be strong and alone anymore.

Col carries him into the kitchen and sets him down on a chair while Sæwin fetches some bandages. “Tunic up then.” Elis lifts his tunic and holds it around his shoulders as Sæwin crouches in front of him, winding the thick white bandages around his torso, up and up until they cover the brand thoroughly, fairly tight so they don’t show but not too tight, the slightly rough linen very familiar. “There you go. That covers the brand. More than just that actually, but we don’t want anyone catching a glimpse at the edge of it and getting suspicious.”

Elis nods. “Thank you.”

Sæwin smiles and gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’re welcome. I need to get back to work, will you be all right?”

Elis nods and Col, catching this from over by the stove, says lightly, “We’ll be fine, love. Get out of here.”

“Not until I’ve tried some of that honey I can smell. You must have some to spare.”

Col grins wickedly and eats a small spoonful out of the pot, smearing a little on his lips as he does so. “Sorry, that was the last bit. De-licious.”

“Oh is that so?” Sæwin chases Col around the kitchen, finally backing him against the sink, and Elis watches with a smile as he kisses the living daylights out of Col, tasting the honey from his lips. Finally he pulls back, looking like the cat who got the cream. “You were right. Delicious.”

“Absolutely,” murmurs Col, slightly dazed. Sæwin winks at Elis and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Look after yourself. And Col. I’ll be back for dinner.”

Elis nods, leaning into Sæwin slightly for a moment. “Stay safe.”

It’s a ridiculous comment to make (it’s only the castle, and Sæwin isn’t foolish), but Sæwin just smiled, uncondemning. “I will.” He waves goodbye to Col (who raises a hand slowly in return, still a little out of it) and strolls out the room. A few moments later, Elis hears the front door shut behind him, and Col jerks back to himself.

“What was I doing?” he murmurs, and Elis smirks as deeply as he dares.

“Kissing Sæwin.”

Col blushes, and Elis’ smile turns softer. Wulfric would’ve called Col and Sæwin’s display ‘disgustingly intimate’, but Elis just finds it sweet. For some reason, Col and Sæwin being so sweet together always helps Elis settle.

“I was baking, that’s right. Do you want to read to me for a bit while I get this in the oven?”

Elis nods eagerly and takes the book from Col, flipping to where they left off that morning. “When the great became aware of Gawain’s arrival,

There was general jubilation at the joyful news.

The King kissed the knight, and the Queen likewise,

And so did many a staunch noble who sought to salute him.

They all asked him about his expedition,

And he truthfully told them of his trilu– tribu– um–”

Col slides the tray into the oven and crosses over to Elis. “Tribulations. You’re improving.”

“You really think so?” asks Elis hopefully, before remembering himself and adding quickly, “Not that I think you’re lying or wrong, I don’t I promise, I just–”

“You just don’t believe in yourself enough,” says Col, putting an arm around Elis and pulling him close. Elis nods – he doesn’t believe in himself because he shouldn’t, but Col doesn’t think so. Col lets him have his own opinions but he doesn’t like that one. “Your reading’s improved a lot since we met. You could barely string two words on a page together then, and now look at you. Not long now until we finish this story.”

Elis blushes, looking down at the cat that’s just jumped into his lap. He’s still not used to compliments. And he’s not so good.

“Hey, sweetheart. You really are getting good at reading. You’re improving. Recovering. I’m proud of you.”

Elis frowns. Col’s tone increases the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Col?”

Col sighs. “I have a bad feeling. It’s probably nothing more than the fact that Wulfric’s here, but... if something happens, ever, promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to survive. And I don’t just mean if it’s Wulfric.”

Elis nods vigorously. “I promise.” He’s promised before, he has, and he doesn’t think he needs to promise again no but Col needs it, Elis can tell.

“Good. And don’t forget that Sæwin and I will always, always come for you. I’m sure this feeling’s nothing, but I want you to remember that, sweetheart. All right?” Elis nods again, and Col pulls him into a tight hug, kissing the top of his head as Mabel scrambles away. “You’re safe. You’re going to stay safe, I’m sure of it, sweetheart. I’m sure.”

That doesn’t reassure Elis one bit.

_

A few days later, Elis is standing at the edge of the field, watching the knights train. He knows it annoys the head knight when he does this and he doesn’t like annoying people no but he can’t stay home on his own, not even with Mabel. That’s what he usually does on days like this, when he’s unable to stay still but unable to make himself move without orders. He can usually stay with Mabel and it’s not too bad, but today is worse than usual for some reason (Wulfric, probably, who Elis hasn’t seen again yet but even knowing he’s here is making him nervous), and he can’t stay by himself. Can’t stay with Sæwin either and get in the way of him saving people, he has to stay somewhere more out of the way. With Col. And even though people are annoyed Col says they just have to put up with it.

It seems an odd way to deal with Elis being an inconvenience.

Elis likes watching the knights, lots of young men and women do and if he lets himself become absorbed in the training he can almost pretend he’s normal, but today his attention keeps drifting. He can’t focus on anything.

And then he freezes entirely.

There’s a familiar set of footsteps coming this way. One heavier than the other, slightly muffled by the boots he’s wearing. Dark brown leather boots with a fur lining and intricate patterns sewn into the outside that Elis can picture like he’s actually looking up at them when he closes his eyes.

It’s Wulfric. Elis’ heart pounds. He couldn’t flee even if he wanted to, he’s completely frozen, it’s a fight not to drop to his knees as his former master comes into view. Col inches closer to Elis under the guise of fetching water and murmurs, “Go home if you want to.”

But Elis can’t.

He takes a shaky breath as Wulfric and King Leofric stop in front of the training field. The knights and spectators bow and curtsy as the King turns his attention to them.

“Knights of the realm. Lord Wulfric has requested to lead you all in a few drills, and I have agreed.” Surprised glances are shared around the group of knights - King Leofric is known for being possessive, he doesn’t normally let anyone else do anything with his men - and the head knight looks indignant, before smoothing his expression over before the King can see. “I will be observing, of course.”

As Wulfric strides onto the field, taking the head knight’s place, Elis thinks his gaze lingers on him. But Col doesn’t seem to have noticed, so please let him be wrong. He’s just paranoid yes that’s it. That must be it.

Elis is worried about what his body will do when Wulfric starts barking orders, but he can’t do anything about that now. He curls his toes tightly inside his boots and clenches his fists. He can do this he can, and then Col will be there to help him after.

“Show me your guards,” calls Wulfric, and Elis grips his arms tightly. That’s not an order he knows well, luckily, but he’s just waiting for one he does.

“Very good. Now, show me your best move...”

He says more, but Elis’ mind goes blank. His best move is taking out the target. Master is looking at the head knight, and the weapon focuses on him, pinpointing the best targets, he’s wearing chainmail but there’s still open targets. His eye maybe. The weapon starts to bend over and reach into his boot–

“Halt!”

Something hits him and he falls to the ground with a thump, something heavy landing on top of him. He blinks, pushing his hands up, as the blankness slowly filters from his mind.

“Elis. Elis it’s me, Col, you’re in Sorestan. Listen to me, Elis. You’re Elis, remember?”

“Col,” breathes Elis, his memory and thoughts returning. “I’m Elis. Elis. You’re Col.”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Will you drop the dagger please?”

Elis lets his hand loosen and the dagger drops to the ground with a dull thud. He tangles his now-empty hand in Col’s chainmail to stop himself picking it back up automatically.

“I dropped it,” he whispers. Col rolls off him, pulling Elis’ hand off his chainmail gently and folding it in his own, helping Elis to his feet.

“Easy, sweetheart. You’re okay. You’re Elis, you’re okay.”

Elis nods shakily. He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s not a weapon anymore. Col pulls him into a quick hug, kissing the top of his head.

“Shhh.”

“You!”

They both jump at the sound of Wulfric’s voice and Elis spins around to face him. He looks angry, glowering, and oh– no no no–

“You’re my weapon, aren’t you? I thought I recognised you. My little weapon, who ran away and hid from me. Or did he hide you?”

“I didn’t–” mutters Elis, backing away, nearly inaudible, “no no no no no–”

His voice breaks. He can’t speak in front of his master, he’s not allowed to.

Col glances at him, squeezes his hand. “He didn’t run. You left him to die. He was nearly dead when we found him, you–” Col’s voice hardens, the way it always does when he’s trying to stop his emotions from showing, and Elis flinches, which he always does. “You nearly killed him. He was bleeding out and about to burn to death, and you would’ve known he couldn’t move without your permission. Don’t lie and pretend you care, you don’t, you never have, you’re just regretting discarding of your best weapon.” He pulls Elis to him and squeezes him tight. “And you’re not having him. Never again, you abusive brute. Sir.”

Wulfric’s face has gone red, a vein popping in his temple. Elis shrinks, not moving, he’s not allowed no but his mind shrinks, hiding from his punishment.

“How dare you insult me like that? I am Lord of Magance, far more important than the likes of you. Certainly more important than that.” He looks at Elis in disgust and draws his sword, slashing it downwards, oh gods he’s going to kill Col and there’s nothing Elis can do, he’s not permitted to move–

Clang.

His master’s sword is stopped inches from Col’s neck, pushing against... Sæwin’s. Sæwin’s? What’s Sæwin doing with a sword? There’s a low hum as the metal vibrates against each other.

“I don’t often use a sword, but I suggest you stop trying to kill my family,” says Sæwin warningly, panting slightly. “Trust me, you don’t want to be cut open by an expert in human anatomy.”

Wulfric scowls but he doesn’t get a chance to retort as an authoritative royal voice rings out across the training ground.

“Guards! Arrest Lord Wulfric for attacking one of my knights.”

Wulfric is dragged away by guards, protesting at the top of his voice, and Sæwin drops the sword, turning to Elis and Col.

“Are you two all right?”

Col nods. “I’m well, thank you. That bastard just... got to me.”

“You got to him too, I’d say. Elis? What about you?”

Elis squeezes his eyes shut and nods. It’s the best he can do.

“Well, I’m not sure I believe either of you, I can hear that deliberate lack of emotions in your voice, Col, but... you’re both alive and in one piece. That’s something, at least.” Elis feels Sæwin’s arm snake his back, the physician’s solid warmth shoring up his other side, and he feels more secure. Col and Sæwin wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

Not if they could help it.

“The guards have taken Wulfric away, Elis,” murmurs Sæwin, “you’re safe now.”

He’s safe. Safe safe safe safe safe.

So why doesn’t he quite feel it?

_

In all the fuss and distraction as the three of them stand there, looking after each other, as the knights’ training breaks up into murmurs and whispers and stares, as the head knight almost forgets to dismiss them in his discomfort, amidst all that, everyone misses the greedy, considering look the King gives Elis.

Looking him up and down like a sacrificial lamb at the next spring festival.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

The Princess’s Royal Guard

Chapter one of an Knight/Royal Guard!ASL fic I put down some time ago.

Chapter 2 will (likely) be out later today or tomorrow and posted on my AO3 around the same time.

Warnings: sparring

Word Count: 1840

You sighed as you walked towards the knight’s training courtyard. You were wearing one of your ‘simple’ dresses. Of course, being a princess, a simple dress wasn’t truly simple. Covered in lace, various vibrant colors, and other fairly ostentatious nonsense. You were going to watch the knights train today. Your father was kind, understanding, and tried not to force too much on you, that being said, he was still a king. He’d allowed you to wander the castle grounds without a small force of knights accompanying you and you rarely left the grounds and when you did it was usually with your father and a large contingency of knights. However, one of his oldest generals and a personal friend of his had apparently been training a particularly exceptional group of knights this year and your father had finally put his foot down that you have a small group of knights at all times. Especially after last week’s assassination attempt. Your handmaidens accompanied you, one carrying a parasol, another carrying a tea set, and a third carrying a small basket of snacks. The sounds of swords clanging against one another rang through the air as you reached the training grounds. You and your entourage immediately noticed by an older man who broke into a smile and hurried over to you.

“Princess Y/N!” the man bowed, “It’s been too long, last I saw you, you were still quite a small thing.” the man said, drawing the attention of every knight there.

“General Garp. A pleasure to see you again. You know why I’m here, I assume.” you stated, nodding your head in acknowledgement of him.

“Yes, your father had informed me of the situation. The 4th Assassination attempt in the last 3 weeks. Come, come.” Garp gestured for you to follow him as he led you closer to the other knights.

“I always train the best knights, many of the royal guards were personally trained by me. I even have two new boys who are showing great promise, they’re still young, but Koby and Helmeppo will be quite the amazing knights one day. But this isn’t about them. This year, I have 3 of the best young men I’ve ever trained. One is a little younger than the other two, but no less great. Actually, the oldest and the youngest are my grandsons. The man walked over to a sparring ring, two figures standing there, ready to begin. Glancing at the two armored figures, you tilted your head to the side.

“Is the full armor necessary, Sir Garp? Surely my personal knights won’t need to wear such heavy armor at all times.” you questioned, looking at the heavy chainmail shirts, helmets, shoes, and leg gear that the two, what you assumed were young men, wore. Garp laughed, his head thrown back

“These are no ordinary young men, Princess. We use real swords for many of the more experienced knights here, but these three are on a completely different level. Heavy armor that weighs them down, dulled swords that could barely cut butter, helmets that reduce visibility.” the man described, confusing you further. Garp shouted for the match to begin, the two men beginning to circle each other. The fight that ensued could only be described as mind blowing. If their armor and swords really were everything that Garp had described, then these boys were easily some of the strongest males in the kingdom, a challenge even for the aging General himself. Movements swift and nimble, elegant slices that cut clean through a wooden post of the ring, techniques executed flawlessly. You called for an end to the match, the two boys stopping, their swords inches from each other. Garp looked over at you in confusion.

“The match isn’t over yet, Princess Y/N.” Garp grumbled slightly. Few people ever interrupted a match, and even fewer commanded his own men.

“There’s no need for it to continue, I can already see how well they fight. I’d like to inspect something myself if they would come over here and remove their helmets.” you called. The two boys looked at each other, shrugged, and walked over, doing as you commanded. You wouldn’t deny that the moment they removed their helmets, your breath was stolen away. A tall young man with black hair, dark eyes, and freckles on the right and an equally tall blond with just as dark eyes and a scar over his left eye on the left.

“What do you need, Princess?” the black haired boy asked, suddenly being smacked by the blond as the blond knelt down. The first boy grumbled but knelt as well as you stood in front of them.

“There is no need for you to kneel before me. Besides, I’d like to inspect something. Remove your armor.” you demanded, seeming every bit the demanding princess. You usually weren’t so demanding and seemingly ‘snobbish’, but until you approved of your own royal guard, you would play the part, if for no other reason than to appear as a proper princess. Once again the boys looked at each other before stripping off their armor, the metal thunking heavily against the ground. Despite Garp’s protest, you leaned down, taking the chain shirt in hand before attempting to lift it. As Garp had said, it was heavy. You’d picked up regular chainmail before, on the occasion that your handmaidens agreed to sneak some into your room so you could play knight, and this was far, far heavier. Next you picked up one of their helmets, looking through the rather small sight gaps, sure enough, it would restrict a lot of vision, meaning that they’d have only fractions of a second to react if they saw an enemy. Gently and carefully taping the edges of the swords, even your butterknife was sharper. You stood back up before looking at the two men, now wearing little more than trousers, shoes, and long sleeve tunics that stuck to their skin, covered in sweat. Still, it allowed you to examine the two men. The black haired boy was a little broader than the blond, but if the tunic sticking to their bodies was anything to go by, no more or less muscular. The blond seemed more lithe, probably negligibly weaker but simultaneously negligibly faster.

“The scar, a training accident?” you asked, eyeing the blond. Garp shook his head.

“A childhood injury. He’s a noble’s son, however I took him in after his parents passed. Their mansion was set ablaze, he was in the kitchen and close enough to an exit when it reached him and allowed him to escape.” Garp explained, watching as you nodded in understanding.

“You said that there were three boys, where’s the third?” you asked, glancing back to the first two.

“You remember my grandson, Luffy?” Garp asked with a sigh. You nodded, trying not to smile as you thought back to the boy. 

“A trouble maker as a boy, always running through the hallways of the palace, barged into my room many times, thought that it was okay to play games with a princess.” you said, remembering how you used to try to play with the boy. Truth be told, you’d hide him in your room so you could play together, he treated you just like anyone else, not like a princess, and it was exhilarating. It had been the first time you hadn’t been treated like a princess. He was the reason why you played ‘knights’ instead of having tea parties with the lady’s in waiting, why you ran down the halls and hid from the guards instead of going to your lessons, though you were punished for it later and forced to take extra lessons, and why you had refused a personal guard, begging to train and be your own guard for so many years.

“He’s missing, but he’s just as strong as Sabo and Ace.” Garp said a little irritably. 

“Which of you is Sabo, and which is Ace?” you asked, looking at the boys.

“I’m Sabo, Princess Y/N.” the blond answered with a kind smile.

“Ace, Milady.” the black haired boy said simply, a smirk on his lips. While there was a certain mischief in the blond’s eyes, Ace was clearly more of a troublemaker, or at least, the one who got caught most often. You heard your name shouted before you suddenly found yourself plowed into the dust and dirt of the ground. Wide eyes stared at you and the black haired boy on top of you, gasps coming from everyone but Garp, Ace and Sabo. Garp looked pissed as he picked up the boy and began yelling at him as your handmaidens helped you up, attempting to dust off your dress.

“But it’s Y/N! I haven’t seen her in forever!” the boy whined as another handmaiden cleaned your skin of dirt.

“Luffy, I hear you're going to become a full fledged knight soon.” you said as you stood up straight, your dress still covered in dirt that likely wouldn’t come out until it was washed, noting the same old straw hat that he’d always worn as a child.

“Yup! Gramps has been training me really hard! He said you’d be coming by to inspect the knights, that your dad wants you to choose a royal guard!” the boy said excitedly as he wriggled in Garp’s grip.

“That’s correct. Garp, you said he’s just as strong, right?” you asked, looking at the older man.

“Less disciplined and much more impulsive, but yes.” Garp answered, still glaring at Luffy.

“If I may, your highness.” Sabo interrupted. You nodded at him, letting him continue, “I can attest to my little brother’s skill. Though Ace and I have frequently bested him in the past, and often still do, he’s shown considerable progress and has even begun to win in matches against us.” the blond said with a fond smile to the boy.

“Garp, you said Luffy was your grandson and Sabo was the son of nobles, yet they call each other brothers. Explain.” you demanded, temporarily ignoring what Sabo had said about Luffy’s skill.

“Ace was adopted and after I took Sabo in, they became sworn brothers. Luffy’s father, my son, isn’t around but I care for them as if they were my own.” Garp explained. You once again nodded before looking at the three boys.

“Very well, I’ll take all three of them. With three young men of such strength and skill, I should only need them instead of the small contingent that my father wishes. I’ll allow my father to choose my night guard later.” you said before looking at the three young men, “Ace, Sabo, Luffy, you three are now, hereby my personal Royal Guard. It is your job to protect me at all costs. Garp, if you will get them properly outfitted, I’ll inform my father.” you stated before turning and walking away. You heard Garp’s signature bellowing laugh as you walked away, no doubt proud of his grandsons and their new found success.

[auraguardians]

Your parents never went on that trip.

guess the thing my muse wants the most

✧ He knows he shouldn’t allow himself to think about it, but the mental image is so clear, so vivid ---

He’s ten again, and this time, they listen to him when he tells them he feels uneasy. “He does look a little pale, dear. Maybe we shouldn’t go?” So they don’t. His father apologizes to his uncle for the disturbance, and his uncle promises they could never disturb him.

They stay, and when the storms come... they’re okay.

That summer, they go hiking somewhere in the mountains. Riley stumbles and his mother doesn’t quite manage to catch him. He falls down a small cliff, hits his head on a rock at the bottom. He was wearing her necklace, though --- she let him keep it, even though she stayed --- and when he wakes up it feels warm and there’s a knight kneeling beside him, holding his hands.

“You’ll be okay. I promise.”

Later, he tells his mother about Sir Aaron. They go to her old home in Kanto together, dig out a bunch of old books and go through them. 

“His brother was one of your ancestors, you know. There’s old family legends that the souls of old Guardians sometimes continue to protect their descendants. But I’m surprised! I’ve never heard of one manifesting from such a distant era...”

They talk a lot about history, and family. Riley’s mother tells him she wishes he could’ve talked to her father, who had the same kind of gift, but for some reason he just feels lucky to have her support.

The years go on.

Riley is always telling her about anything he discovers. His father is able to help his uncle with the family business. Riley remains as close to his uncle as always, keeping a respectful distance, but always appreciates the gifts he sends.

“Your father told me you’ve been researching ruins in Johto. I thought you might like this book of old folk tales.”

And then he meets Sera, and everything changes again. 

When he calls to tell them she’s coming home with him, his father offers to let them stay in the little cabin. They fix it up for her before she even arrives --- his mother even bakes a tray of cookies. And as nervous as Sera is to meet them, they’re both so kind and welcoming to her she almost forgets to be anxious.

(Almost.)

--- but it’s not real. It’s not, no matter how much Riley wishes it could be. They didn’t stay, and he had to do so much on his own, and they’ll never meet her.

It takes a while for Riley to find his voice again. He shakes his head to answer instead.

Some ghosts should be allowed to rest.

[cosmicgrapevine]

At that moment, the garage door creaked open behind them. Kenny lost his focus and the nails scattered everywhere, some of them bouncing off Tabby’s head. His dad started yelling before the car was even in park. “What the hell are you doing, trying to give me a flat? Clean this shit up, now.”

Kenny grumbled and bent down. “Guess I’ll show you later,”

“Show them what?” Mr. Boyd continued. “You stay away from my tools, got it? Why are you still here? I thought you were leaving for your trip thing.”

“Canceled. Last-minute thing.”

“Aw, lil’ Kenny won’t get to hang out with his butt-buddies,” Keith said. He was in uniform, swinging his bat around. He glared at Lynd. “I know you,” he said. “You’re that new kid in Coach Bob’s class. You think you’re gonna replace Will, huh?”

“Oh, they found a replacement?” Mr. Boyd said, his mood brightening. “Yeah, pity what happened to Valdez, but you’ve got the right profile for middle infield. You had much DP practice with Keith yet? Or is Coach Bob gonna move you to shortstop and put Delacruz at second? I tell ya, this is the worst Knights team in a couple years, so whatever he does, it better work.”

It’s high school baseball. My god, you people are INSANE. Tabby wanted to say. Mr. Boyd gave her an approving look as well. Maybe a little too approving. The other boy finally brought a girl home, it seemed to say. He may be a loser, but at least he’s not gay. Tabby moved closer to Lynd and nudged him discreetly. “Uh, I’m not on the team yet,” Lynd said. “Maybe soon. I’ve got some…other things going on.”

Mr. Boyd looked doubtful it was anything that important, but the phone rang from inside and he left to answer it. Keith sneered. “Yeah, we don’t need you on our team. This was supposed to be our year, bro. Me and Will. We’ve been playing together since little league, and we’re not gonna be the ones to lose the title streak. So you can fuck off.”

“I’m not here to ‘replace’ anyone,” Lynd said cautiously. “Moving to Kahoti has been good to me, and I want to give something back.” Tabby rolled her eyes. “You know there’s more than two guys to a team, right?”

“Your girlfriend’s got a mouth on her. You might wanna fix that.”

“Insult me if you want,” he said softly, his natural accent creeping back in. “But not her.”

“Yeah? Gonna do something about it?” Keith smiled. He wanted a fight.

Mr. Boyd flung the door open. “Kenny, phone! It’s Dean Hansen from school. Christ, it's always one fuck-up or another with you.”

Tabby flinched at that. It reminded her of too many nights in Chicago. But if Mr. Hansen was calling this number, something was up.

“Hey, Kenny, glad you’re home,” the dean said. “Listen, I’ve got a meeting with the county school board, completely slipped my mind. Could you watch the kids for a bit?”

“Absolutely. Be right over. Hey, can I bring Tabby and Lynd too?”

“More the merrier. Oh, one more thing. My wife tells me you called Fawn a bitch in front of the whole crew. Is that right?”

Kenny blushed and gulped. “Indirectly, sir. But yes.”

“Well, do it again and you’re indirectly banned from next year’s Equinox too.” Kenny agreed and hung up.

“C’mon, really?” Tabby pouted. “Do I look like a baby-sitter to you?”

Kenny looked her up and down. She was wearing flare jeans and a pink ringer tee with a rhinestone tiara on it, and had her hair pulled back in a clip. “Well…” he said and shrugged.