#lvauweek2021

[marshmellowbobcat]

@cubbiegirl and @marshmellowbobcat present:

Logan x Veronica AU Week:

Fantasy Edition

This week we celebrate all things LoVe and Alternative Universe!

If you’re joining us:

post your fics/art here,

come chat with us here,

and don’t forget to tag #lvauweek2021 on all your social media content so we can find you!

Keep your eyes on this post for a daily roundup of the fabulous fics, art, and podfics posted for AU Week!

[scabopolis]

lv au week, day 1: vampires/werewolves

Fandom: Veronica Mars Rating: PG-13 (one or two swears...look, Veronica is under some stress) Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars, Additional Tags: Secret identity, vaguely vampire hunter related things, filed under: relationship obstacles Word Count: 862

written solely for @cubbiegirl and @marshmellowbobcat because they are two humans who deserve all good things - though, I don’t think this half-baked barely a fic I wrote qualifies. BUT IT’S ALL I HAVE TO OFFER, OKAY? 

this is also so out of my comfort zone, so please be kind. and rewind. okay...I am stalling. 

***

Veronica Mars wakes up sore and pissed off. She’s also not entirely certain of her precise location, though she has her suspicions. How she arrived in the mysterious location, though, is something she remembers clearly. 

She’s not sure what she should be more concerned with: the sharp pain that starts somewhere in the back of her head, her palpable and seething anger, or the fact that her dad is probably losing his mind with worry. He never did quite warm up to Logan. She can’t imagine that changing much now.

Veronica blinks away the sleep (can it truly be called sleep when one’s sleep was the result of being bashed in the head?), waiting for her eyes to adjust to her surroundings. Once able to discern some of the shapes around her, she attempts to sit up. Her hands are bound tight, though her feet have been left alone. It takes some maneuvering to feel the sore spot behind her head. Her fingers come away clean, and that at least is a small mercy.  

She knows it’s a fruitless endeavor but she reaches down and pulls up her right pant leg only to confirm that, yes, her hidden stake has been confiscated. No doubt when she pulls up her left — son of a bitch. Not only did he take her vial of holy water, the bastard left her a note. 

Looking for something?, the post-it note reads.

Veronica crumples the note and tosses it aside. 

The cell where he’s decided to hold her is by far the nicest holding cell she’s ever spent a night. (What is it with vampires, by the way? How do they always, no matter how unassuming they appear, have access to a place to stash humans?) He’s left her a bottle of water, a package of her favorite granola bars, and some of those sour gummy worms he can’t stand but keeps his kitchen stocked with for her. The biggest affront is that he also left her a pillow and duvet. Because it’s her pillow. The one she brought over special from her apartment once she started staying the night more and more. And the duvet is the one from his bed. The one so comfortable it’s actually inspired impromptu songs about its decadence. Is his bringing these to her is an act of kindness or a form of torture? 

“I’m sorry. I do love you.” 

That’s what he’d said right before he’d sent her flying backwards into a tree. The last words she heard before her vision went black. 

“See, this is why I don’t date,” Veronica mutters. 

“And here I thought it had more to do with your general disdain for the human population.” 

Of course. 

Knowing Logan, he’s been standing by to wait for the perfect melodramatic moment to make his entrance. That she wasn’t able to sense him, even now knowing his true identity, is more than a little alarming. 

“I might have disdain for the human population, but at least I don’t eat the human population,” she replies.

“Fair point.”

Logan comes into view and leans against the bars of her cell. He holds out a bottle of what she assumes to be painkillers. She would really like to tell him to shove it, but this headache is no joke. 

She takes the bottle from Logan and he immediately steps back several feet. Which, given she was about to yank him by the neck of his henley and slam his face into the bars was a smart move. 

“So,” he says, “how was your day, dear?” 

She doesn’t look up from the pill bottle. Instead she concentrates on pouring three into her hand. Veronica swallows them dry, puts the lid back on, and tosses the bottle over to her cot. 

“Kind of shitty, if I’m being honest,” she says. “Pretty sure my boyfriend and I broke up.” 

The tendons in Logan’s neck flex. “What makes you say that?” 

“Well, see, he’s a soulless, bloodthirsty monster. And it’s my job to kill soulless, bloodthirsty monsters. So, as you can see, we’re a bit at odds.” 

If Veronica wasn’t mistaken, she would think her words actually hurt him because he visibly tenses at her cold tone.

“Ah. Well, thanks for letting me know, then.” 

“Oh, god. Spare me, Logan. I’m not the one who decided to imprison the other. I’m not the one who planned an ambush. And I’m sure as hell not the one who pretended to be in love just to—” 

“ —You think I pretended?” 

“You must think I’m a fucking moron.” 

“I don’t, Veronica. I really don’t.” He sighs heavily, taking a step closer to the bars. “I wasn’t pretending.” He looks past her to the interior of her cell. “How do you like your suite?”

“Let me out of here.” 

“Oh, I plan to.” 

“Alive?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

“What’s the catch?” 

“I haven’t decided yet.” She lunges forward at the precise second Logan jumps back, out of her reach. His mouth twists up in enthusiastic delight. “Chinese for dinner? You probably can’t be trusted with chopsticks anymore, right?” 

“I hate you.” 

“Extra pot stickers?” 

“Obviously.”

[lavellenchanted]

Logan and Veronica AU Week, Day 3: Fairytale ↳ Hold Me Fast (and Fear Me Not)

When Veronica inherits the crumbling manor house at the edge of Neptune Valley, she’s warned to leave it well alone. The last owner who lived there disappeared in mysterious circumstances and is now said to haunt the place. But Veronica doesn’t believe in ghosts, and, besides, she has no place else to go. What she finds there isn’t a ghost - but an elf who was once a mortal man before he was captured by the Faerie Queen. Logan starts keeping her company as she restores his old home, it isn’t long before she realises she’s falling in love with him. But the Faerie Queen won’t let him go so easily, and it will take all of Veronica’s courage and cunning to find a way to free him.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even make a sound, but Veronica knows he’s there. She can feel his eyes burning into her, making the hair on the back of her neck rise up and a shiver run down her spine.

For a moment she just scowls and continues stubbornly pulling up the weeds, but finally she throws down her trowel and spins round to glare at him. He’s leaning against the lilac tree, arms folded, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes as he watches her. Again she’s struck by the way there’s something about him, some inhuman quality in his face and the way he holds himself, that makes her instincts scream danger and would have any sensible person running as far away as possible.

But when it comes to fight or flight, Veronica’s never been one for running.

“Are you haunting me now?” she demands angrily. “Is that how this is going to work?”

“I don’t think you can technically call it a haunting when there aren’t any ghosts involved,” he replies almost lazily.

“So it’s just a good old fashioned stalking, then.”

One eyebrow arches at her. Despite how silly and vain it is, Veronica cannot help but be aware of the way her hair is scraped back in a haphazard knot, a cloth band tied around her head to trap any fly-away strands, and her face, hands and clothes are all covered in streaks of dirt and sweat from the hours she’s spent trying to tame the gardens.

“Again, I’m not sure that technically applies given that this is my land.”

“Not any more. I have adeed that states it’s mine,” Veronica reminds him. “So unless you’re planning on challenging that in court . . .?”

Annoyance flits over his face, and the corner of her mouth lifts in triumph.

Logan can argue about it all he likes, but this is her home now and no quasi-living fae changeling or whatever he is now is going to take it from her without a fight.

“Was there something you wanted?”

He shrugs, and for the briefest second that passes so quickly Veronica half-thinks she imagined it, his eyes slide away and he looks somehow uncertain of himself.

“Not particularly. It’s been a while since I spoke to anyone outside the Faerie Court. I’m . . . curious.”

“Curious?”

She narrows her eyes, frowning. A sudden thought strikes her, that seems utterly ridiculous and yet it makes a lot of his behaviour more understandable. Perhaps this strange elf-lord isn’t bent on tormenting her only for entertainment’s sake but because he’s lonely.

That’s a feeling she knows all too well of late, and her heart twists with unexpected sympathy.

“Fine.” She gives a frustrated snort and turns back to her weeding. “You can stay. For now. But not one word about how this is your property or I swear I will deface your portrait and tell everyone in the village that you didn’t disappear, you just locked yourself away to die slowly from syphilis.”

“You don’t play fair, do you?” Logan sounds strangely admiring.

“No, I don’t. So get used to it.”

[gogenevieveart]

For Bondo @bondopoulos , from @jasondohringnews ❤️ Logan Echolls in Bridgerton clothes, in celebration of LV AU week (historical theme) ❤️ commissioned by @jasondohringnews

[ayy-ohh]

Veronica stills at the low voice behind her. Smoothing down her red cocktail dress, she carefully arranges her features to express disinterest. She then turns around, hooking her arm through Duncan’s. 

“Logan,” Veronica greets him, cooly.

“Veronica,” he replies evenly, though his eyes are bright and locked on hers. 

She breaks the connection and gestures to Duncan. “I’d like to finally introduce you to Duncan, Duke of Kenilworth,” she tells him, while batting her eyes at her… boyfriend? Blind date turned future betrothed? Carefully selected husband so her country will allow her to lead? “Duncan, this is Logan Echolls, the Viscount’s son.”

Logan nods, gaze raking over Duncan, head to toe. “Pleasure,” he drawls, as though it’s anything but.

[elliebear75]

Thank you to @veronicamarsfanart for the amazing cover art.

[cubbiegirl]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30062838/chapters/74036436

@veronicamarsfanart made me this cover and I died. But I came back, it’s okay.

[vmsteenbeans]

I wrote something! It's for LoVe AU Week. One chapter for every prompt, and it's a RIDE.

Three chapters posted so far. 😊 Hope you enjoy!

[lavellenchanted]

Logan and Veronica AU Week, Day 1: Vampires/Werewolves ↳ When the Hellmouth Opens

The recent spate of attacks in Neptune all bear the hallmarks of one creature: a vampire. Veronica’s been hunting them for long enough to know the signs. But there’s something off about these attacks. This vampire’s acting differently, and she can’t quite figure out why. Then things get personal, when Veronica’s best friend Lilly becomes the next victim - forcing Veronica to go to the last person she wants to ask for help. Logan Echolls, the only vampire she can’t bring herself to kill. 

Logan never thought he’d see Veronica again, but against his better judgment he lets her drag him into her investigation. Partly because he wants to protect her - he has his suspicions about who’s behind these attacks, and he’s rather afraid this is about him - and partly because Veronica’s the first person he’s known for centuries that can make him feel human again, and he can’t bring himself to give that up . .  .

[lavellenchanted]

Logan and Veronica AU Week, Day 4: Sci-Fi ↳ In the Drift

Veronica walked away from being a Jaeger pilot after the terrible day her co-pilot and best friend Lilly Kane died while they were connected - but the Kaiju are still coming, and every Jaeger is needed to fight them. Reluctantly, Veronica agrees to return for one last mission, but she’ll need a new co-pilot. What she doesn’t expect is that she’ll find she’s Drift Compatible with Logan Echolls, the Corps’ most notorious troublemaker, who has managed to send every potential co-pilot he’s had running. If they want to save the world they’re going to need to learn to work together . . . and to find a way to let each other in.

[marshmellowbobcat]

LV AU Week 2021

Hello, Friends!

Every year the Veronica Mars fandom honors the Alternate Universe genre with a week long challenge for our authors and artists! This year our themes celebrate all things fantastical! Crossovers, loose interpretations, literal interpretations - we welcome it all!

If Logan buys Veronica shoes and you want to call it Cinderalla, that works for us. If you want to do a Bridgerton re-write staring LoVe, that *really* works for us. Spike and Logan meet in a bar? Do it! (No really, please, do it). We want to read, see, and watch it all! Have fun with it and let us know if you have any questions.

Love, Your 2021 Hosts,

@cubbiegirl and @marshmellowbobcat

[scabopolis]

lv au week, day 2: super heroes

Title: superbloom Fandom: Veronica Mars Rating: PG-13 for content, R for swears (Veronica writes in her feelings journal and really lets those swears go) Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars Other Characters: Mentions of Mac and Meg Additional Tags: Secret identity (again?! what?), unnecessary epistolary literature (does a journal count as epistolary?), half-baked world building, a vague understanding of superhero lore Word Count: ~1,075 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

***

Again, written solely because @cubbiegirl and @marshmellowbobcat are earth angels. I even added a title this time so that MB doesn’t have to come up with one. 

Why did I write this as Veronica’s journal? Mostly because it’s a style which seems to be a fanfic right of passage and I haven’t tried it so...here we are.  

I probably owe a lot to other superhero universes and their world building (as in, referring to them as ‘supers’ ala The Incredibles). What are the full extent of Logan and Veronica’s powers? *shrug emoji*

***

Date: February 15 Tracked a low-level Kane agent to a tourist trap bistro in downtown San Diego. Place was packed. Is this the new thing? Shitty men forget to make Valentine’s Day reservations, so they make them for the day after? 

Thought I had the guy but when I mistimed my pulse he metamorphosed into a cockroach and scurried away. 

Best part of the night was the chocolate mousse I got to-go. Despite appearances within, the food wasn’t too bad. 

Date: February 17 Caught up to Cockroach. Real name is Abel Koontz. Slimy guy tried to escape again, but Mac outfitted me with a souped up Morph Choke as backup — emphasis on the choke. Gonna need to recalibrate that a bit, Mackenzie. 

Bonus! Forgot it was laundry day, so had to wear my backup uni. Next time I run into Meg out in the field I’ll have to ask her if she can see my underwear through it. 

Date: February 18 Finally got around to watching season two of The Boys. Where do they get this shit? 

If Piznarski brings up forming some sort of super team for the 7-millionth time at the summit this year, I’m siccing Clayton on him.

Date: February 21 Got into a fight with Mac. Technically my fault. 

I faded while in public, and look, I get it. 

Being detected while living as my alter would be bad. BUT!! Being forced to interact with my ex as he is on a date with a woman who legitimately looks like she could be my doppelganger is very bad. 

Date: February 22 Clarified with Mac: me fading in public did not worry her. Me tripping Leo on purpose as I faded was apparently a problem.

Date: February 24 Cockroach stood me up.

Date: February 25 For all that is good and holy if another fucking cocky cowboy of a super moves to Neptune, I am going to lose my shit. This newest one? Got in my way as I attempted to track Kane, Jr into a warehouse. Fucking Smirky McCowboy stepped in my way and assured me I didn’t want to follow. Something about a dozen armed guards with guns aimed at the door. MAYBE THAT WAS MY PLAN!

(Because, of course the guy ripped a powers page right out of Superman’s book and has x-ray vision.)

(And, his uni? Not hard to tell when a super has money. They’re always the worst.)

Date: February 28 Ran into Smirky McCowboy again. This time outside of a poker game hosted by a real estate developer with connections to Kane. Smirky said it was a coincidence. 

Still no sign of Cockroach. 

Date: March 2 FUCKING HELL. He beat me to it. AGAIN! How is he doing this? 

Date: March 4 Smirky’s name is apparently Logan. Which I learned because I was getting coffee at Willow Grove (just minding my business while covertly eavesdropping on previously mentioned real estate developer) when some guy sat at my table. Unprompted. Uninvited. UNWELCOME.  

Mask or no mask, THAT SMIRK. 

The more concerning thing is that his x-ray vision apparently sees through the skeletal enhancements Mac wired into my mask, meaning he ID’d me right away. 

Date: March 5 Why do they keep coming here? Doesn’t New York have more crime? Go there!

Mac says it’s my fault for busting the Fitzpatricks, outing Kane as the sociopath he is, and helping all those kids find their lost dogs. 

Okay, she only mentioned the first two, but I think the third has value. 

The point is! these hangers-on need to find their own territory.  

Date: March 6 Mac traced at least 70 arrests to Smirky in the Los Angeles area alone. I hate him.

Date: March 10 If he scoops another one of my cases…

Date: March 11 He calls me Supergirl. 

He calls me Supergirl and I want to punch him. 

Mac says Cockroach’s tracker is still active but the signal is being blocked.

Date: March 13 Saw Meg today. She took down her own parents. Fucking savage. God, I love her. She flew me up to American Plaza and we drank champagne to celebrate.  

Oh! And good news! She says my backup uni isn’t see through. 

Date: March 13 Woke up with this terrifying thought: can smirky see through my uni? 

He wouldn’t...right? I mean...he’s an asshole but I don’t think he’s a creep. 

Date: March 16 I punched him. 

Not for the underwear thing! He swears he’s never looked and I weirdly believe him. 

And I didn’t punch him as much as he walked into a pulse. Yes, fine. 

I maybe purposefully put up the pulse to see if his x-ray vision could detect it. But I didn’t tell him to walk into it. 

(He can’t detect it, btw. I did it a second time just to be sure.)

Date: March 18 Found Cockroach. Or, I guess I should say Koontz. He washed up on Dog Beach as his alter. 

Mac said it could be a coincidence but we both know that’s not true. 

Date: March 19 Did I do this? Did I get Cockroach killed? 

Date: March 19 Logan has very good alcohol. 

Date: March 20 Hangovers. Bad. 

Date: March 20 Logan makes very good pancakes. 

Date: March 21 Logan has seen me drunk, which means Logan must be destroyed. 

Date: March 22 In a certain light, the smirk isn’t so bad. 

Date: March 23 Oh god. 

Date: March 24 Oh god.

Do I like him?

Date: March 25 I hate myself. I’m a giant cliché. I apologize to all women supers everywhere. 

Logan swears he can’t see past the new enhancements Mac made to my uni.

He also asked me to dinner. Was tempted to 1) fade, and 2) run away, but I did neither. 

Date: March 26 Adding insult to injury, Smirky McCowboy really knows how to kiss.

Date: March 27 Mac says I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. 

Actually, what she said was that neither he nor I are all that pleasant to be around so we might be meant for each other. 

Date: March 28 He really knows how to do some other things, too. 

Date: March 29 Logan got me a present: surveillance footage of Kane’s mysterious second-in-command with Koontz the night before he was found.

He’s been upgraded to not the absolute worst. 

Date: March 29 To be perfectly clear: we are not a super team. 

Date: March 30 Logan and I are on surveillance detail tonight. 

Maybe I can convince him to stop for some chocolate mousse. 

[lavellenchanted]

Logan and Veronica AU Week, Day 2: Superheroes ↳ I’m No Superman

There are two things Veronica Mars has never been able to resist: a challenge and a mystery. And when an anonymous client hires her to uncover the identity of the new superhero that’s been making headlines for the past few months, it’s both in one. Unfortunately, what she finds out is that curiosity might not kill the cat - but it did inadvertently land her with superpowers when she gets in between titans as they clash. 

Now she’s no longer tailing the vigilante, she’s training with him. As Logan helps her master her abilities, she finds herself drawn into another mystery - of who exactly sent her after Logan in the first place and just how far they’re willing to go to stop him.

“Let me get this straight,” Veronica says, folding her arms as she looks at him. “You decided to become a superhero because you were bored?”

If she thought her disdainful tone would pull out some sort of sheepishness or sense of shame, she’s sorely mistaken. All Logan does is flash her a bright, wolfish grin.

“And because I had superpowers. Don’t forget that part. It’s not like I just read a Batman comic one day and decided, hey, I could do that.”

“Here I thought superheroes were driven by some deep moral conviction of right and wrong or justice.”

Logan shrugs. “Morality’s overrated.”

It’s hardly as if Veronica’s some naïve optimist, seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses. Her work as a PI has brought her into contact with the dark underbelly of the city more than once and she’s seen the terrible things people are willing to do each other for money, greed and simple passion. If anything, she’d say she was a cynic who generally expects people to be nothing more than grasping shitheels.

Still, somehow in this case it’s . . . more disappointing than she’d like. If even superheroes can’t be trusted to be acting on more than a vainglorious impulse, what hope is there for humanity?

“Clearly the media needs to rethink your name,” she snarls. “I’d suggest Jackass Man.”

“Personally I was hoping for something more classic . . . Captain Fantastic, the Iron Marvel, that kind of thing. But I couldn’t name myself. It might make me look like I had an ego.”

“Why would anyone think that?”

“I can’t imagine.”

He grins again, and despite herself Veronica feels the corners of her own mouth twitching in response. Maybe he is a jackass, but there’s something magnetic about him, and she can’t help wondering if he really is as shallow as he wants her to think.

“Well, come on, Investigator Woman,” he continues, getting to his feet. “Let’s get you trained up, and you can show me how a real superhero should act.”

“Investigator Woman?” Veronica wrinkles her nose.

“Yeah,” Logan sighs. “We’re gonna have to workshop that.”

[scabopolis]

lv au week, day 3: fairy tales

Title: parry on Fandom: Veronica Mars Rating: PG  Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars Other Characters: An animal that is 100% based on one of my mom’s felines Additional Tags: Absolutely inspired by Tangled, though I do not give Logan luscious magical hair (SPOILER!) Things I googled for this fic: antique jewelry box, what to feed cats in the 1800s, fencing footwork drills Word Count: ~1,950 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

Jump forward. Advance lunge. On guard. 

Logan goes through the motions and repeats them, increasing his speed each time. “Again,” he says to himself. 

Jump forward. Advance lunge. On guard. Jump forward. Advance lunge. On guard.

Again, and again, and again until his chest is tight with exertion and he is barely capable of lifting his makeshift sword up above his hip line. It is only then he ceases movement. 

Logan drops his weapon to the floor and hinges at the waist, taking deep, slow breaths. He is unsure how long he remains in that position before his cat, a rotund tortoiseshell who simply showed up in his keep one day, winds itself around his ankles. 

Lady Richard looks up at him and lets out a cross between a whimper and a meow. Logan reaches down and scratches the cat behind its ears. 

“Ah, I know what you want.” 

Lady Richard meows again, even more pathetically.

Post-workout, Logan’s sabre has returned to its true form and is a wooden spoon once more. He kicks it out of the way and makes for his small kitchen. His father’s man visited him the day prior (“your father wished to come, truly”) so his larder basket is more than full. 

Once Lady Richard appeared, his father was surprisingly amenable to Logan’s keeping her. Apparently his father did not consider a cat scaling the unsteady ivy outside his window a threat. 

Logan unpacks the cat collops from the larder basket and sinks to the stone floor. Lady Richard invites himself into Logan’s lap.  

“Father approved entrails this week.” Logan scratches Lady Richard under the chin, feeding him the meat pieces from his hand. “He must be in a good mood.”

Once Lady Richard is finished with her meal, she bounces from Logan’s lap and moves over to her favorite cushion of the burnt orange sofa in the corner of the room. Logan reupholstered the sofa himself but, seeing as it was a decision made primarily to irritate his father, he deeply regrets the choice of fabric.

Logan sets himself to preparing his own meal, removing bread, cheese, and some salted meat from the larder basket. He takes a jar of the fig jam he made the previous week down from the kitchen shelf. This batch is considerably better than the past few he has attempted, though it is still not quite right. If only he could ask Lettie, the palace cook, for her advice. On Logan’s more optimistic days, he believes he will one day have the chance to. 

He pours himself a large glass of mead, sinks back down to the floor with food and drink in hand, and then waits. For what, he is never certain. But he has been waiting for something to transpire the more than three years he has lived in this tower. The day Logan stops finding something to hope for will be the day he takes a flying leap from the tower. 

Some hours later (it is hard to say how many — his father did not think a clock necessary for his survival) Logan wakes with a start, laying upon the cold stone floor of the kitchen. He notices the bright light spilling in through the tower window, illuminating most of the room. It must be a full moon. 

At first uncertain as to what caused him to stir, he registers the distinct rustling of ivy outside the tower window. He assumes Lady Richard to be the culprit but that is not possible as the cat is tucked behind Logan’s knees, fast asleep. The rustling persists. 

Logan pushes himself to a seated position (Lady Richard meows in displeasure) and moves to crouch behind the large floral chair that once belonged to his mother. He reasons with himself that it is likely just another cat; possibly a squirrel of some sort. But then there is the darker possibility that his father has determined keeping him alive and hidden is no longer worth the trouble. 

The rustling is even louder now, but it is the sound of metal hitting stone that has all his attention. Logan moves from where he crouches into the kitchen in search of a weapon. Father has left him without knives of any sort, so he settles on the heavy cast iron pan, still soiled with the remnants of breakfast. Rather than return to his original hiding spot, Logan moves on bare feet to the book shelf nearest the window. This position unfortunately obscures his view of the tower window. 

He listens to the repetitive movements outside; metal hitting stone again and again. Eventually the sound stops and Logan is startled by how calm he feels. His father has always been mercurial — it was only a matter of time before he decided a dead prince was preferable to a hidden one. 

The assassin grunts as they first swing one leg and then the other over the window ledge; their heavy boots hitting the stone. They don’t seem concerned with keeping quiet, which is strange. Rather than head immediately for the stairs, and thus his room, the assassin sounds as if they are moving towards the main room. 

“What is this place?”

Logan freezes in place at the assassin’s quiet voice. A woman? He was not expecting a woman. She moves further into the room, her back to Logan. He especially did not expect a woman who appears to be a foot shorter than him. The woman continues her exploration of the tower, her head turning this way and that, when her eyes settle on the engraved silver jewelry box set upon the fireplace mantle. He watches as she picks up the jewelry box, inspects it for a moment, and then tucks it into her satchel. She helps herself also to a pair of candlesticks and his pocket compass. 

Not quite an assassin, then.

Lady Richard makes herself known by flopping backwards onto the thief’s boot, feet up in the air in invitation. The thief laughs quietly and leans down to scratch the cat’s stomach. “You’re a well-fed thing,” she says. “Where is your owner?” 

And Logan would much rather take someone by surprise than be surprised, so he seizes that moment to step out of the shadow. 

“Right here,” he says. 

In one quick action, the woman reels around to face Logan, a knife he was unaware she wielded clutched tight in her hand. Logan holds up the frying pan. It distracts her for a moment, but only just.  

“Who are you?” the woman asks. 

“Who are you?” 

“I believe I asked first.” 

“You are the intruder, which I think places the burden of answering questions firmly upon your shoulders.”

“You live here?” 

“Clearly. Shall I repeat my original question: who are you?” 

She hesitates. “My horse threw me off a few miles from here. I was looking for assistance.” 

“Is that so?”

“You do not believe me?” 

“I do not. But I also do not believe you are here to kill me, so that is something.” 

“Why would I kill you?” 

“Why, indeed.”

“I suppose you saw me steal your jewelry box.” 

“I did. The candlesticks, too.” 

“And you are okay with this?” 

“No, and I do expect their return, but you have bigger concerns.” 

“What concerns?” 

“Successfully leaving this place alive, for one.” 

The woman tenses and she takes a step back. Lady Richard follows, batting at the thief’s boot. “You intend to kill me.” 

“No. I do not. But I am afraid you stormed the wrong tower.” 

She narrows her eyes. “Who are you, exactly?” 

This evening, when Logan sat on that cold stone floor to eat his supper, he had no way of knowing what he was waiting for. Seeing this woman now — this woman who boldly brandishes a knife at him and speaks without fear while so clearly being in the wrong — he makes a decision. 

“Perhaps you should look at that jewelry box once more.” 

The woman manages to fish out the silver box while still keeping the knife steady and directed at Logan. The top of the box is engraved with a scene of a pond and the requisite flora surrounding it. There’s no way for this woman to know the etching is a perfect rendering of the large pond on the palace grounds. 

It is the name engraved upon the box which can hardly escape her notice: Her Majesty, The Queen, Lynette II

“You are a thief, as well?” she asks, though she sounds doubtful. 

“I am not.” 

“Then how—?”

“The queen is—,” he clears his throat, “—was quite dear to me.”

“How did you know the queen?” 

Logan remains silent. 

Her eyes return to the box, her thumb tracing over the engraving. She looks back up at him and, perhaps it is the remnants of a long-faded instinct, but Logan draws himself up straight for her inspection. That is when his identity appears to be clear to her. 

“It cannot—,” she begins, haltingly. He nods. “Are you the lost prince?”

Logan sighs and lowers the frying pan. Lady Richard accepts it as an invitation and comes over to lick bacon grease from the cast iron. “The lost prince? Is that what they call me?” 

“Most of the kingdom believes you dead. Your father increases the reward for your return each year.” 

He laughs. “I am sorry, but all my return would garner you is your death.” 

“Why is that?” 

“Because your good king, my father, does not want me to be found as he is the one who entrapped me here.”

She loses her grip on the jewelry box, but manages to recover the object. Her knife, on the other hand, clatters to the ground. She does not pick it up.

“Is this true?”

“What is more, I believe as soon as my step-mother produces an heir, I will truly be expendable.” 

“Why tell me this?”

Logan twirls the frying pan in his hand and sends spatters of cooled bacon grease flying. “As I see it we have two options and limited time to decide: one, you leave me here, and you worry that one of my father’s spies has witnessed your departure and will thus murder you.” 

“Option two?” 

“Option two is far less likely to succeed.” 

He pauses for dramatic effect and she rolls her eyes. “Do go on.”

“Option two, you help me escape, I take my rightful place as ruler, and you will earn far more than any reward my father could offer.”

“What makes you think I can help you?” 

“Something tells me a woman who just happened to have the means to scale a 60 foot tower in her satchel has the means to do much more.” 

This is already more fun than Logan has had in close to a decade. 

“What should I call you?” she asks. “Because I refuse to call you highness.” 

“Logan will do. Shall I call you thief?” 

She picks up her knife, sheathes it, and extends her hand. He grips hers in return and is overcome by the fact it has been years since he has touched another person. 

“Veronica. Mars. And I prefer the term master thief.” Veronica looks down at Lady Richard as she intently licks a spot of grease off her boot. “The cat?” 

“The cat comes. Her name is Lady Richard.” 

“What say you, Lady Richard,” Veronica says, “ready for an adventure?”

[allthevmff]

By @elliebear75​

Chapters: 4/?

Fandom: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types, Veronica Mars (Movie 2014)

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars

Characters: Veronica Mars, Logan Echolls, Cindy "Mac" Mackenzie, Eli "Weevil" Navarro, Van Clemmons, Stosh "Piz" Piznarski, Wallace Fennel, Jackie Cook, Cyrus O'Dell, Cliff McCormack, Liam Fitzpatrick

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, Historical Romance, Ranching life, 1920s, rural life, Canadian Content, Can-con, references to history (slavery), Infant Loss, Minor Character Death

Summary:  Recently widowed Veronica Mars only needs a man to help with the family ranch, nothing more. At least that's what she tells herself before the new hire arrives.

Historical Romance AU set on the 1920's Canadian Prairies.

*Originally published: 2019-05-15 (Chapter 1 only.)*

🎨 by @veronicamarsfanart​

[cubbiegirl]

“Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this.” Her dad’s voice breaks and panic slithers down Veronica’s spine. She knows the look on his face, now. She’s seen it before. When he told her he was divorcing her mom. When Backup was hit by a car. When she didn’t get into Stanford.

Her blood runs hot, then cold. She balls palms, slicked with sweat, into fists and takes a deep breath.

“What’s wrong? Who…?”

Bracing for bad news, she still doesn’t expect it when the blow comes.