#nonetheless all the pain he went through was unable to extinguish his love for the sport

[carmyprosecco]

How do you write ride

like you’re running out of time?

[letaliabane]

OUR MUM IS A WHAT?! (PT. 8)

plot: All is well with the Wayne family, however when Y/N’s past comes back to haunt her, she must not only face her enemies but unravel truths that may break her family forever.

a/n: it’s been ages, but here we are. when I first published this story the amount of hate i was getting in my inbox made me stop writing completely. it’s been seven months and finally i came back to it to find some really kind people in dms and in inbox (esp. @emmascornerofthefandoms and @nothingright-blog​ ) who left some really really sweet msgs that inspired me to continue this story. lets get into the final chapters of this story. enjoy x

warnings: major angst, gore, character death

Series Masterlist 

Bruce raised his head towards the intense, blinding light that encased the entire cavern. His eyes glazed over, watching his wife rise above the ground, sword raised and pointed towards Aziel, eyes white, features void of emotion.

It looked nothing like the woman he knew to be his wife, nothing like the Y/N he loved.

The boys, each of them badly wounded, weakly raised their heads towards the flames, almost unable to even recognise the woman before them that they knew as their Mother. The hatred, the rage they felt from the being before them, it was foreign.

Bruce groaned as he leant on his elbows, the pain terribly throbbing in his abdomen. He looked back up towards his wife before finally getting to his feet, struggling, but getting to his feet nonetheless.

The anger thrived within my very being, as if I was feeding off the gem that sunk deeper and deeper into my chest, the powers that I possessed so many years ago now flowing through me once again.

I felt powerful, stronger than I had ever felt before. Even more power than when  when I weakly fought that slimy old councilman who had overpowered me, more than when I fought my brother for the first time.

My eyes briefly flickered towards the Cryptos who began to flood the chamber, their mouths open with a battle cry belting from their bellies, their weapons raised.

However, as I raised my sword, they were silenced, an echo of their screams of pain extinguished, their bodies disintegrating into nothing but dust, billowing right back out of the temple halls.

My eyes flickered back towards Aziel, the presence of fear in his eyes making me smirk as he raised his scimitar once more.

The familiar revving of thunder and lightning spinning and crackling from his fingertips, aimed right towards my heart, only for it to be sent flying into a corner of the chamber at the flick of my wrist, dust falling from the ceiling to join the residue on the ground.

Aziel growled at this, lunging towards me, his scimitar raised before colliding with Aeris, a loud ‘clang’ vibrating through the entire ground of the temple. I stared into the eyes of my little brother, barely pressing any weight against the blade as he began to buckle.

His eyes shifted from mine to the sword, back and forth, before he let out another shot of lightning. I took the hit, deflecting his attack to stab my side, the two swords continuing to clang and scrape against one another.

Just as he went to slice across my waist, I grabbed the sword in my hand, enduring the blade digging into my palm, ignoring the blood that dribbled down my wrist. I gripped it with all my strength, and with a snap, the scimitar’s blade was crushed beneath my palm, shrapnel flying across the room.

‘Y-You bitch!’ Aziel stuttered, ‘You’ve taken everything from me!’

He raised his arms above his head, screaming as he released yet another round of lightning, his chest heaving and hands trembling. I barely lifted a hand before a shield of fire encased me, ricocheting the lightning and thunder all across the walls.

The shield barely disappeared before I grabbed Aziel by the throat, bringing him in close to me, ignoring the whimpers that left him, the flames beginning to spread across his neck, burning and blackening his flesh.

‘And you almost took everything from me Aziel. You thought you could destroy my family … but you forget one thing little brother, I will stop at nothing to protect them. Even if that means killing you.’

Just as I raised my sword above my head with an almighty cry, my wrist was gripped firmly.

With a growl, I turned, and a gasp caught in my throat.

Bruce stared back at me. Not Batman, Bruce.

His cowl no longer covered his face but hung around his neck, eyes wide, bruises of red and purple tarnished his skin, sweat slithering down his face, ash decorating his hair like fallen snow.

But more importantly, I took in the fear present in his eyes.

Bruce held back the urge to cry out in agony at the burning sensation that flowed through him, his arm straining, muscles taunt.

He could feel it all. The anger, the sadness, the betrayal, the fear, all of it. What had been locked up for so many years was now being released the flames that left his beloved’s fingertips, but he knew this was wrong, and more importantly, he knew you did too.

He shook his head. ‘Please don’t this. It’s not worth it.’

I froze, looking between him and Aziel, only to turn back to Bruce who squeezed my hand gently, giving me a reassuring nod.

‘Don’t stoop to his level my love, don’t become what he wants you to be.’

I couldn’t stop the sob that left my lips, my eyes pulling away from my husband’s as I stared at my brother, the hand I had on his neck tightening a fraction, ignoring the whimper Aziel let out.

‘I don’t care what I am! Not anymore! I know what I am I’m nothing but a monster! H-He needs to pay for everything he’s done! He needs to die!’ I spat in anger, ignoring the tears that ran down my face. Ignoring how my sword shook within my grasp.

'Y/N … please look at me.'

'No … I can’t …’ I cried through sobs, shaking my head. squeezing my eyes shut. When there was a gentle caress to my chin I couldn’t help but sigh at the familiar touch of my lover, leaning into his palm that cupped my cheek.

'You’re not a monster, Y/N. You are a mother to our sons. You are my wife. Nothing will ever change that. Ever.'

As my eyes met his, witnessing the conviction of his words in his very eyes, I sighed, allowing myself to lower the glowing blade, barely sparing a glance toward my brother who I shoved away from me.

Bruce squeezed my hand, stepping closer as the flames around me began to dwindle. His small smile made my insides turn, and I couldn’t help but do the same.

However, I glanced over his shoulder, watching as Aziel once again lunged towards husband, a smirk overcoming his features.

'Bruce!'

I swung us around, keeping my body close to his, only to choke as I felt the sickly thin blade enter my chest. I gasped as Bruce gripped my cheeks, hands shaking against my skin as I looked down towards the wound. The gem, now merely pieces, began to crumble, and shudder violently against the beating of my heart.

I shoved Bruce away from me, clawing at my chest with a whimper and gasp desperately as the burn itched at my skin. The pain curdled within my being, like I was being burned from the inside out.

I weakly looked towards Bruce as blood suddenly spilt from my lips whining as he staggered back towards me, his tears falling as a scream left my lips.

Flames erupted around me, engulfing me, swirling through the skies as the gem in my chest shattered, skin and flesh ripping from the wound as violent winds thrashed around me.

Bruce was sent flying backwards, skidding against the rocky ground. He could barely raise himself to his knees, and for the first time in his life, he couldn’t move. It was as if he was watching his Mother scream over his Father’s lifeless body hitting the ground.

The nightmare alive once more, but this time, with the love of his life at the centre of it all imprisoned in a burning dome of flames. The boys, now huddled together, watched in horror as the flames escaped their Mother’s chest, flying dangerously and uncontrollably around the room violently.

My screams faded to nothing but a dull cry, the flames evaporating, circling the insides of the broken gem. And suddenly, it was gone. Darkness invaded my sight before I even hit the ground.

Aziel watched as his sister slammed into the ground, unmoving before the clattering of the sword caught his attention. But before he could get to his feet, he howled as a sword was plunged into his shoulder. Blood spilt from his open mouth violently as he grasped at the open wound, eyes widening briefly in horror at the voice that pressed against his ear.

‘That was for our family, and for our sister … brother.’

Wren withdrew the sword from Aziel before racing over to his sister, ignoring the cries of his younger brother as guards pressed a jewel to his back, spider-like legs of iron wrapping around his chest before they dragged him away.

It felt as if someone had slammed a concrete slab over my head, a pounding overtaking my right side, sounds vibrating painfully against my eardrums. The taste of iron was evident on my lips, and a burning sensation that continued to grow from my chest.

‘Mumma?!’ Dick’s voice suddenly rang through the ringing in my ear.

'Oh God is she’s okay? Please tell me she’s okay!’ I heard Tim cry.

With barely any strength I opened my eyes slowly, watching Jason as he squeezed  my hand several times, the rest of the boys gathering around my body.

Their hands hovered over me, looking towards one another as my body shook, the adrenaline beginning to fade and the pain seeping into my very bones.

‘We have to turn her over, carefully now,’ I hear Bruce say somewhere over me before I felt his lips press against my ear, his hand gently caressing my head, ‘My love were going to help you, we just need to turn you over now.’

When I weakly nodded against the sand beneath my cheek, I braced myself. A weak cry left me as the boys pushed me onto my back, a strained silence following instantly as they looked down at me, holding back the need to hurl.

My chest, cracked, blackened veins throbbing and crawling up my neck. Where the gem had laid once now remained a gaping wound, red and raw, and bleeding out. Blood caked and spilt along the cracks, seeping across the floor like water.

‘B-Bruce,’ I gasped softly, reaching blindly for his hand. He was at my side instantly, taking his hand into mine while cradling my cheek, ‘I’m right here my love.’

‘I-I’m so sorry,’ I cried softly, ‘for everything. You didn’t deserve any of this.’

‘Y/N no-’

‘Please.’

He fell silence at my plea, giving me a small nod as he carefully cradled me in his arms, his heart aching at the whimpers that left my lips.

I weakly turned my head towards my sons, smiling at each of them through the tears that blurred my vision, or was it really tears?

‘My boys, my brave little robins. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. You’re so so strong, each of you in your own way. I-I’m sorry I let you down as your mother …’

‘You didn’t Ummi,’ Damian instantly said, sitting closer beside me, kissing my cheek gently, a smile curling at the edge of my lip as tears spilt down my face.

‘For once I agree with Damian,’ Jason said, trying to smile, but failing to as tears fell down his cheeks, Dick reaching over and squeezing his shoulder briefly. Tim remained silent, his eyes roaming your body, nails digging into his thighs, as if to try and wake himself from a nightmare.

But this was no nightmare. This was real.  

As the pain began to dwindle, and a tingle back to run down my spine, I glanced back up to my husband, gasping, ‘I sh-should’ve told you the truth Bruce, about everything. My selfishness got in the way and I’m s-so so sorry. All I wanted was for all of you to be safe …’

Though the heaviness in my arm continued to heighten, I raised it ever so slowly, gently pressing my hand to my Bruce’s cheek, wiping away his tears,

'Just please remember, you were the reason for much of the happiness that I had in my life. I will always love you Bruce Wayne.’

With my lips barely caressing his chin, I couldn’t help but allow myself to fall back into his arms, and into the comfort of what I could only feel as sleep, with the great knowledge that I knew my family were, finally, safe.

Through the heavy weight of silence that fell over me, a whisper, far off, echoed in my ears.

I have you sweetheart … hold on just a little longer …

'Umi?’

Damian whimpered as he gripped his mother’s hand, shaking it as if to gain attention like a child would. However no response came, the lifeless arm of Y/n shaking raggedly, heavily before dropping back to the ground.

Dick was a mess, looking away from his little brother as the tears plummeted down his cheeks, covering his mouth to hide the sobs that escaped his lips.

And Bruce, he was silent.

Jason was frozen, staring down at the body of his mother, his true mother. The woman who had been more of a loving mother to him than his own blood.

His hands shook as he embraced Tim, the young boy gripping his chest, uncontrollably and unashamedly crying into his older brother’s shoulder.

Staring down at the woman in his arms, he couldn’t really comprehend what had just happened, head shaking in disbelief.

'Y/N? Darling open your eyes …’

She remained unmoving.

'Come on Y/N, please you’ve got to stay awake help will be here soon.’

He turns to Wren who stands behind them, his eyes glistening with tears, his fingertips grazing over the birthmark over his heart.

'Where the hell is the help? Have you sent word for them?!’

'Bruce it’s too late-’

'NO!’

The scream that left Bruce’s lips made his sons jump, all looking to him as his tears fell, landing softly on the face of the woman he loved. The woman who had saved him from consuming himself in darkness and showed him what love meant.

Bruce cradled Y/N’s body to his suffocatingly close, almost waiting for her giggles to erupt and for her to pull away from him. But she didn’t. She remained limp, and silent.

'Please don’t do this … please don’t-please don’t leave me!’ He cried, gently running his hand through her hair, as if to soothe her awake, to ease her pain in some way.

He couldn’t lose you too.

Masterlist - Series Masterlist

Tagged: @watercolour-carnations , @hopeful-winchester , @gummydemonsstuff , @xx-randomshit-xx17 , @good-art-by-awesome-people , @a-self-judgement-blog , @aleeexx2301, @otothettothep , @ricky-666s-blog, @mroy-l0l , @a–1–1–3 , @blondiegurl442 , @eternaleviee , @twilight-loveer , @emmascornerofthefandoms​ , @nothingright​ , @hqstimpy, 

[randomfandomimagine]

Soul of a Warrior. Chapter 4: Before The Dawn

Fandom: The Witcher

Ship: Jaskier x Nissa (OC)

Previous Chapter - Chapter Index - Next Chapter

AO3

A/N: If you’re enjoying it, please let me know!! Leave a comment and remember to reblog, it’s really important to me! :D

The cut in my arm burns slightly. We have properly mended our wounds and changed our bandages, but the reminder of that battle at the top of the mountain sticks with us. As we walk, the silence is suffocating me. The atmosphere feels cold and tense. Because of me. I can’t stop thinking about all the things I said. They treated me so kindly yet I lost my temper when I saw Jaskier carrying the dagger. After the myriad of emotions from yesterday, even he is quiet. The lack of his endless ranting feels like a blessing as it gives me the chance to breathe and understand my own state. At the same time, however, it leaves an emptiness floating in the air. The thought that they might resent me for bursting out troubles me.

“Uh... Yesterday...” I suddenly pipe up. My meek voice surprises even myself. Clearing my throat, I try again, this time with more confidence. “I didn’t mean to get angry, I just…”

The two of them exchange a look for a moment before turning to me. Our slow yet steady advance halts as we seize each other up.

“There’s something more, isn’t it?” Jaskier replies, sounding more serious than ever. “There’s a story behind that dagger”

I peer up at him, and the graveness in his eyes makes me uncomfortable. I suddenly miss his jokes and endless rambles. For a moment, I wish he could lighten up the mood as usual. Even if it would be for naught. Unable to hold his gaze, I turn to Geralt instead. He is silent, attentive and slightly alarmed. He only looks at me, waiting to see what I say or do next.

“It’s not fair to hide it from you” I plop down in a nearby boulder and feel the anxiety creeping up to me, setting in my chest. “Not when we’re traveling together”

My hands are shaking, but I put them to my face when I feel completely overwhelmed.

“Is someone after you?” The witcher asks, much calmer than last time.

I sigh as I drop my hands in my lap and stare at him. The intensity of his eyes is upsetting, so I look at the ground instead. I already feel out of breath, even before I start speaking.

“I don’t think they are, or they would have found me by now” Too restless to be still, I begin playing with my hands. “It happened eight years ago”

Kader smiled at me, hopeful and excited as always. I followed my brother to the path that led to the mountain, being as curious as him about what we could find there. A treasure? One of those magnificent creatures he always talked about? It was a mystery that we couldn’t wait to unveil. His eagerness was only infectious as it took over me and energized me.

“Catch up, Nissa!” He urged me, walking back to me.

“Yes, yes” I laughed out loud when he positioned himself behind me and pushed me forward. “Stop it, I’ll walk faster”

“Please do” His grin lingered, so bright that it nearly dazzled me. “I can hardly wait!”

“You might have to, though” I pointed to the sky as it grew darker above our heads.

Kader pouted, knowing I was right. We had been walking for a long time, and it wasn’t wise to keep going even though night slowly fell over us. We needed to make camp and wait until the following day to continue our ascent.

“Fine” He sighed in annoyance, stomping his feet as he went to look for a place good enough to rest. ��But to be honest, I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep”

I chuckled as I calmly followed after him. Curiosity and excitement bubbled within me, but not nearly as intensely as him. Catching up with him, I linked my arm with his and showed him a radiant smile. Kader eyed me carefully, realizing he might not like what I would say next.

“Behave like an adult, Kade” I told him between giggles. “You’re supposed to be the old one”

“How am I supposed to when there might be a dragon awaiting us?”

I smiled as he began talking about those magnificent creatures. He was never this loud and outspoken, but our quest was exhilarating for him. He kept speaking, wondering whether we would encounter a green one or we would be fortunate enough to witness a red or black dragon, perhaps even a gold one. I wasn’t as optimistic and settled for a green one in my mind, if there was a dragon to begin with. Nonetheless, I kept those thoughts to myself not to ruin his enthusiasm.

Happy to hear his rare endless talking, I settled down on the ground as soon as I found a place I deemed soft, sheltered and comfortable enough. Kader followed after me, fidgeting even after sitting next to me. I was tired from all the walking and my eyelids felt heavy already, but he might indeed not catch a blink at all.

_

When I woke up, the gentle sunlight welcomed me. The fire we made was extinguished. I idly stretched, conflicted between my laziness and the thrill of the adventure. However, I found myself alone in the camp. There was no sight of Kader.  I immediately stood up, feeling restless in my newfound solitude.

“Kade?” I called him, hearing my own voice echoing in the woods. “Kader?!”

Part of me hoped he didn’t go on ahead without me, but the other one knew him well enough to assume he did. Curiosity must have gotten the best of him and I was sure he decided to take a peek. We were close enough to the top to quickly go and back again. But he hadn’t returned yet, how long was he away?

A hunch grew in my chest and I decided to go look for him. Unwilling to get carried away by that irrational feeling, I reminded myself that he was probably okay... just gotten hold back by something quite silly. Like a beautiful flower that he would pick up to apologize for scaring me. He always loved wandering around fields and meadows to be surrounded with beautiful flowers and calming scents.

I ran as quickly as my legs would carry me. The ascent was unforgiving at such a fast pace and I had to stop for air several times. As I advanced, paused and then continued again and again, my mind raced. All worst case scenarios played in my head, each worse than the last. Adamant, I reminded myself of the flower. Of the sweet apologetic smile he would dedicate me. Of his excuses and childlike excitement as he explained what he saw. Of how he would take my hand and restlessly pull at me until I was there to see everything for myself.

When I reached the peak, I could see a big opening leading to a deep cave. The silence was deafening, bringing a dark omen to my heart. The inside of the cave was so mysterious and mesmerizing that it seemed to be pulling me in. Nonetheless, the anguish never let off.

“K-Kader?” I dared to whisper, although not too loud. I could sense danger, or perhaps I only feared it.

A sudden sound made me jolt up, but when I calmed down I realized I knew what it was. A horse neighing. Our horse?

“Pal” I recognized the chestnut horse hurrying my way and closing the distance between us.  He immediately nuzzled my shoulder, stomping his hooves in distress. I caressed his head with shaky hands, feeling tears of anticipation filling my eyes. If Pal was there freely roaming on his own, where was Kader? Where was my brother?!

I absently patted Pal’s neck and decided to venture into the cave. The shift in temperature hit me as I immersed myself in it, shielded from the warm sunlight and being welcomed by a cold humid air instead.

“Kader?” I called out again, and this time I received a response other than my own echo. Just not his.

“Who’s there?” A loud deep voice replied. From the shadows erupted a tall figure. I faltered before the new presence in front of me.

He had golden eyes and a scowl in his face. A dark and mysterious aura surrounded him. Kader had told me enough about witchers to recognize one on sight. He was definitely one of them, though not quite like I expected, not as heroic or visibly kind. Not as willing to help. He seemed rather inconvenienced in fact.

“I-I’m…” I gulped, just then noticing the bloody sword he so carelessly carried. “I’m looking for my brother, he’s… a bit taller than me, with light curly brown hair and…”

“You’re too late” The witcher saved his weapon on the sheath on his back. His expression didn’t change, not even when I let out a strangled noise.

“What…?” I uttered, searching his face for an ounce of empathy, but found none.

“He’s dead” He insisted, moving to the side to reveal the truth. I blanked when I saw Kader lying motionlessly on the ground. It was him indeed... on a puddle of blood. It took my mind several seconds to comprehend what my eyes were witnessing.

I didn’t understand how I didn’t collapse. How my knees didn’t buckle beneath me. My thoughts did freeze, as well as my body. I wanted to throw myself forward to prove the witcher wrong. My brother wasn’t dead, just hurt. He would be okay, he always was. He always smiled through the pain, because he was that strong. That time was no different.

“If you’re wondering what happened” The mutant said in a deadpan voice. “He meddled in where he shouldn’t have”

“W-What?”

“He was at the wrong place at the wrong time”

He didn’t give me any further attention as he began walking away. I wanted to stop him, to hold his arm and beg him to help me. To heal Kader, to bring him back, anything! Tell me who did it or… Wait, did he…? Was the witcher responsible? Who killed my brother?!

I snapped out of my daze and ran to his lying form. My stomach churned, yet my eyes were fixed on his motionless body. The rough surface of the cave’s ground scrapped my knees as I dropped next to him. His eyes were open, devoid of any brightness they previously carried. Dry blood covered his mouth, neck and chest. A terrible wound was on his stomach, the one that allegedly killed him.

My mind began racing even further. I weakly shook his shoulder, even knowing it wouldn’t make a difference. Of course, Kader didn’t respond. He never would. I would never speak with him again. Hear him ranting about amazing creatures and witchers and far off places. All those adventures were pointless without him. Everything was pointless without him.

I sharply breathed in, crumpling the material of his shirt in my hand, helplessly shaking him again. Why couldn’t he have waited for me? Why did he have to leave me alone?

Sobs escaped my throat as a knot formed in there, so tight that it didn’t let me breathe. Hot tears cascaded down my face, draining me and leaving me numb. I dropped backwards to the ground, sitting there helplessly. No matter how hard I cried, I found no comfort. A void settled in my chest, one that I felt would accompany me for the rest of my life. A far too heavy burden.

Aimlessly seeking anything to help me, I desperately glanced around the cave. It was then when I noticed the dead dragon. Its green scales were pale and lacking any of its former glory. Was that the witcher’s doing too? Did he kill both the creature and my brother?

An unharmed dragon egg lay close to the corpse. Apparently, the creature died protecting their own. Nothing made sense to me, because the witcher code forbid slaying dragons. Did that witcher kill my brother to defend the creature? Even though Kader would never hurt them?

A sudden rage warmed the coldness that had been left within me. Peering at the interior of the cave, my eyes fell over a weapon discarded on the ground. I picked it up from the spot next to him. It was filled with blood… it had to be the murder weapon.

I stared at the dagger in my hand, memorizing the golden handle and the small gems etched there, the curve of the blade and how it shone despite being stained in crimson.

Not knowing why, I looked back at my brother through my vision blurred by the tears. There were no claw marks on his body, only that stab wound. It wasn’t the dragon. Still, a monster did it. Even if that monster was a human. Or a mutant.

I clutched the dagger so tightly in my hand that my nails formed painful crescent marks on my palms. I sat there for a long time, dazed and immersed in my tangled thoughts. How was I to live with that loss? With that emptiness?

_

I look at my hands, almost like I can still see the blood staining them. Kader’s blood. My brother’s blood. I survived, he didn’t.

“Oh…” Jaskier’s low murmur brings me back to the present. “So that’s the story behind the dagger…”

“I’m sorry” The witcher mutters scarcely. I do not look at him.

My eyes are wet and hope that I have shed no tears. Cautious, I glance at them. Geralt is considerate enough not to watch me, but Jaskier is staring. His eyes seem to burn holes into my face.

“What?” I’m not sure I can take his pity, his condolences and sadness. Nonetheless, there seems to be only awe in Jaskier’s gaze.

“You have the soul of a warrior” The bard utters. “You kept on living, even after that traumatic day… You never surrendered”

“What was I supposed to do instead? Die as well?” I shake my head, biting my lip when I feel wetness in my cheeks. I angrily wipe the tears away and avert my gaze. “The only thing I could do was move on and continue living”

“But... you could have turned bitter…” Jaskier retaliates. “All that pain, and it only made you kind”

“I…” Having it so recent, I refuse to cry disconsolately like I did yesterday. A part of me is also frightened that if I start shedding the tears I have been holding back for years, I might never stop crying. “It was as though Kader watched over me still. He would have wanted me to…”

I shrug, not truly knowing what I want to say. Perhaps it only sounds stupid and a pathetic comfort for a poor girl maddened by grief. That confusion of feelings return, and not even I myself can identify them. There are far too many to pinpoint each one.

“He would have wanted you to be happy” Jaskier utters in a breathless whisper. “Even without him”

I nod, doing my best to focus on everything else but my emotions, like on how far they are from me, keeping the distances as though I need a lot of room to breathe. My feet are idly dragging on the ground and hence I make a conscious effort not to. I don’t even remember when I stood up. At what point in my narration did I start walking?

And suddenly, I see it. The town is upon us. We have arrived. Jaskier turns to me, moving his head to look from the destroyed wasteland that now is my home town and returning to me. Avoiding eye contact, I take a few steps closer.

The smell of thick smoke and ashes is pungent in the air even though all fire has been completely extinguished. There are no signs that show the dragon stayed. The dead silence makes me think of the noisy state this town used to be in. People walking, children laughing and running, horses galloping. The clinking sounds of the tavern. The smells that filled the place, now all overpowered by the scent of everything burnt. The murmur of voices intertwining in the bar. Hana’s voice. Kind, stubborn and mature.

When a hand captures my arm, I grow aware of my erratic breathing.

“That’s enough” Geralt declares, tugging at me. “Let’s turn back”

I nod in a daze, fearing I might collapse if he drops my arm. Luckily, he doesn’t.

Once more I leave home behind, this time probably forever. It isn’t a home anymore. It has been reduced to nothing, to literal ashes. There is not a thing left, not a soul. Only that emptiness that mirrors the one inside my chest.

I absently go where Geralt takes me, trusting him enough to choose the path for me. Where he’s going, I don’t know. I only follow like a shell of a person. I’m reminded of the other presence next to me when Jaskier’s arm brushes against mine. I hadn’t realized he walked so closely by my side.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” He pipes up, quieting for a moment to clear his throat. “How was Kader?

“Huh?”

“Your brother, what was he like?”

“He…” I smile at the thought of him, even if it’s partly a sad gesture. “He was older than me, but sometimes he behaved like my younger brother. He always managed to make me smile”

“That’s nice” Jaskier grins sweetly, and the sight comforts me slightly.

“He was so very kind too…” As I have been for years, I try to focus on his memory instead of his painful absence. “I had never met someone as thoughtful and selfless”

“Sounds like a good man” Geralt says too, slowly dropping my arm now.

Boy. At twenty-two, he was just a boy still when he died.

“He was shy and quiet most of the time. Truly, he was a child at heart” The sound of his pure laughter echoes in my mind, one that I hope I never forget. “All he ever wanted was to see some dragons… At least, he got to see one, before…”

A knot forms in my throat and cuts off my air. I gulp, though it remains there.

“He was the only thing I had left after our parents died from the Catriona plague”

“Um… So tell me…” Jaskier speaks up again. “Did he look like you?”

“How so…?”

“Beautiful green eyes, stunning smile, silky long black hair?”

I smile in spite of myself, truly grateful for both his compliment and efforts to lift my spirits. He has no reason to be doing this, to go out of his way to cheer me up. Neither of them do, yet they are. Geralt too, on his own way, as I can feel his eyes watching me carefully. Even if he’s silent, he feels ready to reach out and catch me if I stumble. Despite the fact that neither of them are physically holding me up, I feel just as enveloped.

“He was blonder” I reply to Jaskier’s question. “But yes, green eyes as well”

“Ugh, I bet we would have been the best of friends” He says to my surprise, yet… he’s strangely accurate. They would have gotten along quite well. Even if Jaskier would inhibit him quite a bit, being too outgoing and extroverted for Kader’s introverted personality.

I grin at the thought, also imagining how mesmerized he would have been by Geralt. How he would have annoyed him even more than Jaskier. Just the thought of Kader bombarding Geralt with thousands of questions makes me chuckle.

“He would have liked you” I confirm, glancing up as I haven’t in several minutes. “Both of you”

“Hm” Geralt only hums, though dedicating me the smallest of smiles.

When I peer up at Jaskier, a bigger grin is plastered on his lips. He has a dreamy expression, perhaps picturing how Kader was. The sight warms my heart. For the very first time in days, I feel hopeful. Truly hopeful. After all, it’s always darker before the dawn.

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[outlawqueenbey]

You Said You Loved Him Too  Part 2

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11702125/61/Life-and-Times-of-Outlaw-Queen

She knew the second it happened. Can pinpoint it down the most finite moment she felt something eternally shift inside her, ice through veins, scalding hot about her heart. A fraction in time there was no breath to be inhaled, only a sharp stab, a blinding pain that engulfed her whole, and just as quickly as it had happened, a cold cool balm soothed every last inch, melting the wound away. Invisible to the eye now, that’s all that it would be. A stitched together golden thread on a dark as night heart, that still beneath it all pulsed a dull ruby red, proof that not everything is black and white, that while Evil may come first in her name, she did the right thing, did a good thing, a selfless thing.

It was hazy as she came back too, blinking at the flickering of orange candle light on the cold stone walls, everything tilted on it’s axis as she righted herself from the dusty floor, coughing irritated at the puff of dirt, and the dull throbbing at the back of her skull. Clearly when it happened, she lost consciousness, not completely unrealistic given what she gave up. Her spine cracked and popped, crunched joints being gratefully set straight upon sitting up, a faint metallic taste coated her tongue. A little warning next time might be nice.

And then she waited. For what seemed like an eternity. Has been waiting in the recessed depths of the vault, behind hidden doors and masked mirrors, the constant twitching in her fingers becoming the only movement inside the stone walls. She promised. Gave her word that if it worked she would bring him here. In a surreal moment of vulnerability she had looked into her own eyes, in the body of another, ones that were so desperate in their need, and let her long standing guard slip, to the only person who truly understood how much effort it took to keep it up. The moment her softer half left, she panicked. Sat, jaw agape on the wooden chest for hours, hand over her thunderous erratic heart, in shock of what she had just done, how exposed and raw she’d let herself stoop down to.

And more times that she will ever admit, she scrambled to her feet, raced up the stone stairs, defiantly ready to take back what was hers, and yet, every time she pushed open the cold hard oak wood doors and saw what lay beyond just to the right, the name emblazoned on the dark silver granite, her feet stopped moving forward, and the Queen retreated back into her hiding.

So she waits. For how long she isn’t actually certain. Just stares through the black spiralling mirror into the vacant room just beyond. Everything feels empty. The walls no longer have a fleeting of warmth or strange previous comfort to them. It feels like a jail cell. Perhaps a more luxurious one, what with the fur blankets that adorn a soft mattress, and a fire however cold roaring in the corner, it’s a prison nonetheless. One she has put herself into. One she has grown to utterly hate.

Maybe that’s why she did it. Offered up a part of her soul in a feeble heart driven attempt that maybe, just maybe, he would walk down those steps one more time. But as the minutes tick by and the earlier prickling in her heart subsides, only loneliness seems to reclaim its space one again. A flare of rage surges through her. What is supposed to happen if it worked? What did she even expect? That he would chose her over her other half? Possibly he would run into her arms instead? Kiss her till her knees went weak and they would vanish together and live what? Happily ever after?  She wants to kick herself for even believing in the notion, a fool’s trap. She isn’t a fool. Fools do things like this, crazy reaches for hope that isn’t there. All for what? For love? Love that surely won’t be returned. How could it? She is who she is, and he won’t chose her. No one chooses her. Ever.

Her fingers tear at the tiny threads on the hem of her dress, slowly and deliberately pulling the garment at her wrist apart, parting the dark plum silk and black lace till her skin reveals itself. He liked this dress. Had told her many nights ago, as he gently disposed her of it, halting her ravenous appetite to rip it apart just so she could feel him sooner. His hands had closed upon her own, a light vibrating chuckle in the crook of her neck as he whispered his request that he be the one to take it off her. Her skin shivers at the memory. How delicate he undid the laces on her back, dragged the zipper down torturously slow, his lips following the path of newly exposed skin. He said the color brought out her eyes, made them sparkle with flecks of gold, a sentiment she had scoffed at, though her blush was hidden behind a curtain of curls. He’d even laid it gently across her white chaise as she lay back on the bed, squirming impatiently for his attentions, giving her that heart stumbling dimpled smile over words he wished to see her wear it again sometime, it’s one of his favourites.

She stares down at the gap between material, suddenly annoyed she had minutely destroyed it. And in the second her palm glows lavender, another odd revelation she’d come to notice the first nights outside Regina’s body, a sight that silently made her smile, for maybe it didn’t matter they were two separate people, Good vs Evil, there was still love buried deep down in her heart, an echo pulls her attention from the tattered threads.

It’s slow, a steady scratch of granite on stone above her, a flame igniting in her hand, defence at the ready for she is in no mood to be toyed with right now, and she counts, glares at the mirror whilst doing so, one, two, she rises to her feet, three, four, the pit of anger boiling in her stomach, five, six, sev-  Oh God. Ice cold water soaks her, extinguishing the fire as her eyes see him. It’s him. He is here. Slowly treading into the other room, a hand running over the back of his neck, and her fingers itch to touch him, to thread through his hair, pull him in and if he’d allow it, never let go. Her breath fogs the mirror as her nose grazes the glass, the entirety of her body pressed against the hidden door, and she watches. Stands frozen in hiding as he sighs heavily, walks further into the room, distancing them in his steps as he scours the stone room.

His hands glide over the open storybook on the chest, on a page she knows is there, she was cementing it to memory a few hours prior, a painting of them, in a life that never happened, a path of purity had she not been so afraid that night. A life they had talked about at length, the what if’s, the self-bitterness at her own self destruction towards happiness, a loathing he’d kissed away, soothed in his words that it wasn’t meant to be, they were meant to meet when fate deemed it right. Her hands press against the door silently, removing the barrier between them, a flicker of fear spiking in her heart, insecurity that stews beneath the surface as she shuffles forward, a half step, his back still turned to her. Her heart thunders in her chest, and certainly he must hear it, he’s always been attuned to the rhythm it beats, and if on cue, as she begs it to slow, he shifts, stands a fraction taller, tilts his head slightly to the side, and she can see the hint of a smile hidden beneath the stubble.

It stands still, time, air, her ability to do anything but stare timidly as he turns to face her fully, book still in hand, and his eyes find her own, unfairly beautiful, sky blue, bright as the summer spring rivers, alive and sparkling. He moves, trepidation in each step at first, letting the book rest on the wooden cabinet where her potions lay, and she can’t do anything but stand there, rooted to the spot, praying to the Gods, this isn’t just a trick of the mind, she’s been down here long enough with her own thoughts to go crazy, maybe she is crazy, it seems ridiculous he would come here, to her, she must be losing her mind. Hot tears line the backs of her eyes, a hard lump stuck in her throat as her rigid stance falters, slinks inside her unprotected heart. A traitorous tear falls before she can blink it away, warm and tickling as it slides down her cheek.

It certainly smells like pine, a woody spice she inhales from memory, ever so real as it fills her lungs, if only she could drown in a scent, be lulled to eternal sleep by it, perhaps in death there isn’t such solitude and heartache. Her next breath shakes, catches in her throat as a warm palm settles against her cheek, gently wiping away the wet droplet, and if she leans into it or he holds her up, she doesn’t really know, it has to be her, he isn’t real.

He isn’t her-

“Hi.”

The sound of his voice, stiffens her spine, and she turns away from his palm, biting back the urge to succumb to this mirage, but her hands move, trembling in their path as they blindly move up, tentatively finding the lining of the thick canvas lapels of his coat, smoothing inside to the soft cotton shirt, his lungs expand in steady breath, and he could be real, this could all be real, it has to be real, it’s his heart, pumping solidly underneath her palm. She caves, chokes back an unrefined sob and falls into his arms that wait openly, cradling her into his warmth. There isn’t many times she can recall crying, hard like this, unable to breathe or keep her legs from shaking weakly. But he is there, holding her tight, nuzzling into her fallen hair, a hand between her shoulder blades, the other at the base of her neck, thumbing and rolling the tense disbelieving muscles.

“You came.”

He sighs, hugs her tighter, presses the softest of kisses into her temple. “You doubted I would?”  She nods, barely, but he only pulls her in further, scratching his fingers through her hair, he loved, no loves, her hair, had told her a thousand and one times, and it feels surreal. Like some sort of dream she hopes she won’t wake up from, and finally her body seems to register, her arms wrapping around his neck, nose burying into the crook of his neck, forehead resting against the pulse that is thrives just beneath. “I didn’t know if you would want to.” She admits quietly into his tunic, muffling the incessant shake in her voice. It’s at that he steps back, dreadfully so in her own mind, and tips her chin up.

“Hey. Open your eyes.”

She hesitates, swallows thickly.

“Let me see you.”

Her fingers grip the small lining of hair at his nape, and slowly, ever so slowly, she does as he asked, relinquishes the constant need to control, and gives in, for him, only ever for him. His smile is enough to have her heart splitting into a hundred butterflies, fluttering about her chest, as she finally looks him in the eye, melting in the spot, her wish to be in heels not barefeet debilitating so she can be closer to his height, can look him truly in the eyes, instead of inches below.

“There you are.”

It feels suddenly far to vulnerable, to exposed, how she is simply letting him hold her, brush back a fallen curl behind her ears, nothing but silence and the drumming of her heart echoing off the walls. She can’t be defenceless, unguarded like this. It’s not who she is. The Evil Queen, that is her persona, her brand, and the Queen doesn’t stand lovestruck in the embrace of her previously deceased lover, soulmate, whatever they want to call him. Shaking her head she retracts, pushing gently against his torso, giving a few inches of space between them, needed space so that she can rearrange her jumbled mind, focus on the fact that regardless if he is here, he is not staying. He will leave. And she will be alone. Again. There is no room for weakness. Not now.

Robin frowns, goes to reach for her as she steps back further, huffing out a breath as she straightens her dress, shakes out her hair and stiffens her spine.

“So, you’re back.”

Her tone far too hard for his liking.

“Regina’s little trick worked.” Her arms cross over her chest, a barrier between them, he’s never been one to enjoy those, especially with her. It is her. In a different way. And while there are many, many questions he still needs to ask, things that need to be answered, there wasn’t a shred of doubt in his mind nor his heart, when Regina had told him just how he was able to be breathing again, that he needed to come here, to her. Most may not be able to understand it, why he would kiss one and then walk to the other, the sinister half, the darker evil twin, they don’t need to. The only ones that need to make sense of it are himself, their children (a conversation clearly for later), Regina who smiled and let his hand slip from her own after he promised to return, and the Queen. The one piece in the puzzle that probably more than any of them needs to understand. He loves her. Loves them both. In their own ways. But regardless his heart didn’t split like she had. It hadn’t separated into a lighter and darker half, both tethered to their respectives soulmates, his heart is whole, and he loves each of them. Raised eyebrows be damned.

“Thank you.”

She scowls, picking at a piece of silk at her wrist, a torn gape in the fabric he glares at. He likes this dress. Had noticed it the moment he had turned. It brings out her eyes. He adores her eyes. The window to her soul, even if, like now, she tries to hide them from his gaze. “I didn’t do anything.”

He chuckles, closing the distance slowly, thankful she doesn’t step away again. “Well, I do believe that the reason I am standing here is in a large part because of you.”

“Perhaps you have been lied to.”

“I doubt that.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“I know you better.”

The Queen sinks at his words, berating herself for the small smile that parts against her naked lips. “Yes well, you’ve said your thanks. You may leave.”

“You truly think I wish to do so?”

“Regina is waiting for you.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Then you should go.”

“Why?”

Well she certainly didn’t (absolutely did) miss his incessant stubbornness and questions. Her mind battles itself, because he should go, he is supposed to go, to live happily ever after with the one person that could give it to him. But he is still here, head tipped to the side, dimples on full display as he smiles at her, that irritatingly melting smile, and she can do nothing but roll her eyes, grumbling out a stiff because Robin, as she turns away, ready to seal herself off in the hidden room once more. She gets halfway before his hand lightly grips her bicep, stalling her in the motion, and before she can understand what he is doing, his lips are pressed against hers, soft and gentle, and she shouldn’t kiss him back, he isn’t really hers, but her heart wins, that little spark of red underneath the cavern of black spirals out of control, and she does, holds him to her lips, revels in the taste of mint on his mouth.

His breath is warm against her skin as their lips part with a pop, and she sinks into him, allowing his forehead to rest on her own. “Never think, for one second, that I do not love you as well.” His confession grips her hard, “Nothing can change that.”

“How can it not? I am who I am.”

“You’re right. And I love you still.”

“You shouldn’t.”

His lips finds her again, chaste and far too quick, “I’ll decide who I will and will not share my heart with, Your Majesty.” He smiles as her title rolls off his tongue, his hands lacing behind her back. “I fell in love with both of you, I love both of you.”

She shakes her head, sighing into his arms, letting him hold her up for as long as he wishes. Which apparently isn’t long enough, before he is guiding her into the candle light stone room, settling them both on the wooden chest, his hands never letting her own go.

“You gave a part of yourself up for me. Not knowing if it would work. Why?”

She should say something that won’t make her sound so damn weak. But his lips are against her temple, his body snug into her own, warm and safe, and before she can stop them, it tumbles out, quiet into the silent walls.

“Because I love you too.”  His smile is felt, more than it is seen, the weight he rests on her deepens as her eyes focus down on their hands, laced and locked together, his thumb running along her fingers.

“Thank You.”

They fall into silence, he not needing to say much more, and she having no real words to say back anyway. It is what it is, and for the few moments she is allowed to bleed him in, she will. Has all intentions to soak in every second of this before it’s taken away. At some point they shift to sit on the floor, her leg draped over his own, hand resting against his skin underneath the cotton shirt, his arm slung about her shoulders as the rest against the wood trunk. She watches the candles, as the wick slowly melts away from the flame, dying into a low burning deep orange ember, bouncing dimly along the stone brick.

It feels warm again.

Footsteps click before she registers them, and when her eyes move up, she see’s herself, the lighter heroic version standing there, hands clasped together in front of a black blazer, white teeth biting hesitantly down on a pale lower lip. She looks tired, and scared if the Queen is being honest. Probably a mirror image of herself in all honesty. And she waits for the shuffle of Robin’s body beside her, the vacancy he will leave behind as he surely will go to Regina, to the one he is meant to love, and yet, his chin brushes against her forehead, stubble scratches along her temple as she sits up straight, ready to let it all go.

“My love.” His hand extends out though he doesn’t move from their spot, “My other love.” He amends with a chuckle, squeezing the Queen’s hand still within one of his own. They stare at one another, carefully, and rather shy, waiting for something they aren’t really sure of, and Regina steps forward, heels clicking against the floor muted. The Queen watches as their fingertips find one another, slowly move to enclose, and she is sitting face to face with her other half. Without any sharp remarks, snide comments, or threats, they simply look at each other, distanced fractionally by Robin’s body, Regina’s eyes barely moving when he kisses her forehead in greeting.

As if in sync, they both settle into the respective shoulders of Robin’s arms, nuzzling into his warmth, a faint flicker of a smile crossing both their lips, a lining of tears welling up in Regina’s eyes, as her hand moves to find his heart, only to touch a palm already resting there. The Queen pulls back, wanting to take what she can, but it’s odd, this situation, feeling what the other feels, knowing what the other knows, and slowly, she feels her hand being encircled and placed back on his heart, on half of it at least.

Her eyes locked down onto the slender fingers that hold her hand, before a breathless, watery “Thank You.” escapes Regina who shifts further into her lover, and the Queen nods, smiles before burying herself into her soulmate.

And maybe it is strange, odd, and misunderstanding to everyone else, but it feels right, feels for the first time in a long time, that maybe, come tomorrow, she won’t be alone anymore, maybe there is hope for her after all.