#now that she's looked him however the witch won and he must now marry the witch instead

[naariel]

Brunebjørn Druid Halsin

-

Based on Kvitebjørn Kong Valemon by Theodor Kittelsen. As a kid I always really enjoyed that painting, and the norwegian folktale it depicts. So naturally I had to recreate it with Halsin and Gaia.

[dianaisnice]

The Dark Fairyking (Yandere X Reader)

Description: One day, an injured man came out of the magical forest, which normally only the bravest and most foolish would enter. (Y/N) and her younger brothers were alone at home while their father and older brother were out hunting. She came to his aid and tended to his wound... and fed the stranger. This was to have repercussions for her, as it sealed her fate. "Let never a stranger in. And above all, never let him eat out of your own plate and sleep in your own bed."

Word Count: 2023

(Y/N) = Your Name

(L/N) = Last Name

(H/C) = Hair Color

(E/C) = Eye Color

1.Chapter

Today was a particularly difficult day because today we spent our last money on food at the market. Our chickens were all torn and eaten by wolves last night. The wolves hadn't even left a little bit Luckily the wolves were killed by my father and older brother after they returned from a trip from my aunt's. My younger brothers and I couldn't do anything because, they were very young. I couldn’t do anything with a knife against a hungry pack. From the wolf's skin I made a cloak for my little brother, since he grew out of it. The men were only able to catch a few wolfs, as some were smart enough to flee.

Our little hut stood on the edge of a forest, which separated the humans and the fairies from each other. You were allowed to enter the forest, but you were never allowed to enter the other realm. The forest itself was already dangerous, since it was very large and dangerous beings dwelt in them. Magical beings, as well as dangerous animals, including wolves. Every now and then a person wanders in who is either never seen again or is found dead.

Some nights you can hear the magical creatures calling. Men are lured in by beautiful fairies and drowned in lakes, children are devoured by witches, and girls dance themselves to death.

There are even nights when fairies come into the human kingdom and get up to mischief. Fairies were hard to tell from humans once they used magic. The king is said to be the most powerful of the fairies. King of the fairies, Zephyr is said to be cruel and evil according to stories and rumours. It is also rumored that he was darkness itself. That's why they call him the dark king.

On such a night I dared to look out the window and there I saw fairy knights in black armor, armed. As long as you stay away from them and look at them from afar, they won't hurt you, otherwise they can be killed. However, the forest is a neutral territory.

My family had known the magical forest for generations, so the voices didn't bother us anymore. Nevertheless, one had to be always on guard, because danger lurked everywhere. The hunters always carried a sword with them, which can be dangerous to the fairies. The swords are made of pure iron and is soaked in blood. I don't want to know who or what the blood is from.

A hundred years ago there was peace between us and we lived in harmony with each other. But one day the peace was broken by a war and the war raged for fifty years. Of course, the fairies won the war and the human kingdom became smaller. After the war, poverty reigned for some time, and hunger and death were always present.

Since that day we have had a wise king, who will soon abdicate and give the crown to his grandson. Before that day will come, he must first marry and have an heir to the throne. Unless the reigning king slays death first.

The king managed to get the people out of poverty and negotiate a deal with the fairy king. What it could be for an agreement, none of the common people knew. It is rumored that every year the king brings young girls to the other side and gets treasures from the fairies in return. A rumor that has not yet been used or filed.

My older brother, named Henry, was the oldest of our four children at twenty-one. With his wild blond hair and his deep blue eyes, he cast a spell over every girl. His back was broad, and he could carry a dead boar with his bare arms. He was very conscious of his good looks because every now and then a hand landed on his cheek. But Henry was always there for our family. Every day he helped our father by accompanying him on hunts and chopping wood for the winter or other tasks reserved for men.

Unfortunately, my mother passed away a few years ago giving birth to my youngest brother, who was just three years old. His name is William. A true whirlwind of the family. It's exhausting to get him under control. Especially when he discovers something new. Arthur was a smaller image of Henry.

I also have a ten-year-old brother who inherited my father's wild brown hair and brown eyes. He is called by the name Arthur. He also helped me with the household and the care of the animals. Next summer he will accompany the men in their daily work and help as best he can at his age.

Since the death of my family I am the only woman in the family. Exactly three days ago I turned eighteen and now count as a woman. At my age, most girls will be or have already been married and are already raising their own children. I can't leave the men and boys alone because they couldn't cook, wash clothes or do other housework properly. Also, someone needs to look after the little ones while they were out.

"(Y/N), you are responsible for your younger siblings," my father said to me as he walked to the door and unhooked his jacket. My brother, who is three years older, was already standing next to him, who opened the door with a grin. Immediately the cold made its way into our hut. Fall will make way for winter in a few weeks. But the cold could already be felt and it's getting colder by the day. The winter will be even harder if you don't have much to eat. I'll try to conjure up a soup from the leftovers. So that we could continue to survive, the oldest men had no choice but to go hunting.

I pressed my lips together angrily and narrowed (E/C) my eyes at Henry. "You're doing that extra," I hissed at him and hit him in the arm. He grabbed his arm and pretended the blow would hurt him.

I put my hands on my hips at my father's statement and looked at him, shaking my head. "Don't worry, dad. Like every day, I take care of the two rascals. You can count on me,” I said, my voice shaking slightly as the cold slowly tugged at me. Henry grabbed a crossbow and disappeared outside. Not before he messed up my hair. My teeth chattered from the cold and I wrapped my arms around myself to protect myself.

My father just laughed at this behavior and watched Henry with me. From the corner of my eye, I saw a sad gleam come into his brown eyes. "You do your work really well and conscientiously...since your dear mother left us, I'm glad to have a woman here. William and Arthur need a female role model to both look up to,” he said with a few sighs. "I miss your mother every single day," he added with a sad undertone, sadly handing his thick hair a few times. I couldn't help but hug him and bury my face in his chest. The familiar smell of forest and autumn sun filled my nose. "I miss her too," I mumbled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He put his hand on the back of my head and hugged me. At that moment we enjoyed the time between father and daughter.

A throat clearing sounded from the front door. Of course, it can only be Henry. "We've got to get going before it gets dark," Henry answered the word. His heavy steps moved away from the hut again.

My father broke away from me and put on a baggy hat. He grabbed the two swords that were propped up by the door and kissed my forehead goodbye. I saw Henry impatiently leaning against a tree. "We'll be back before the sun goes down," he announced. He was just about to close the door behind him, but before he did, he said to me explicitly: "Don't let strangers in and certainly not give them something to eat."

I heard this one sentence from him every day when he left me alone with the little ones. "I won't, dad. Take good care of both of you and yes, get back on your feet,” I said goodbye to him and kissed his cold cheek. With a smile he shouldered the crossbow and sauntered over to Henry. Before I saw the two disappear into the forest, I waved to them one last time.

I held my arm in the air for a few seconds and watched the magical forest. A sudden shiver came over me. Shaking my head, I closed the door behind me. The shiver was probably just because of the cold.

To get a little warmer again, I rubbed my hands together and stoked the stove again. Humming, I hung a kettle full of water over the fireplace. Now dedicated to me a small basket with potatoes and carrots that stood under the table in the middle. Unfortunately, the vegetables were not particularly large. For the little money we couldn't have afforded anything better. It hurt me every time the little ones go to bed with little on their stomachs. There were days when the hunt was not crowned with success.

Our hut wasn't very big. It consisted of three rooms. The largest room is the back room where the two boys and men slept. I, on the other hand, had a small room next to the kitchen. In the two bedrooms were closets and other things.

I heard small feet stomping on the wooden floor behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Arthur walking past me, his hair sticking out wildly in all directions. I chuckled softly at his looks and gave my little brother a loving smile. Arthur sat across from me without saying a word, grabbed cheese from the table and gnawed at it.

Because not a word escaped his lips, I put the knife aside. I glared at him with raised eyebrows. "Good morning, Arthur. Don't you want to wish your sister something too?' I grumbled, slightly offended. Yawning, Arthur wiped his half-open eyes with the back of his hand. "Sorry. Good morning," he sincerely apologized to me. He yawned once more. With a nod, I was satisfied with his apology.

"Would you like mint tea?" I offered him something to drink while using a rag to get the steaming kettle and fill myself a cup. Before that, I put some peppermint leaves in it. Arthur nodded lazily, taking a bite of the cheese this time. I got two more cups, one for Arthur now and one for William later. Again, I filled a mug with the hot water and peppermint leaves. Then I put it in front of him. "Is William still asleep?" I asked Arthur. I stirred my steaming mug with a spoon and inhaled the refreshing scent deep into my nose. There is nothing better than starting the day with a hot cup of tea.

Arthur shoved in the rest of the cheese and blew into the cup. "He's still sound asleep. Even the Dark King couldn't wake him up,” Arthur quipped, taking a sip of tea. I giggled softly at his sentence so as not to be loud. William is said to be sleeping longer at three years old.

Sighing, I sat down next to Arthur and cupped my mug. Just like Arthur before, I blew into the cup to avoid scalding my tongue and mouth. "After you're done with the tea, do you want to help me with the housework?" I suggested to him. I allowed myself a generous sip of tea. I watched the little one with every little reaction. "Yes gladly. I want to peel and cut the vegetables”, Arthur determined and emptied the cup with one sip. I smiled. "Let's start then."

[aarcanechaoss]

Memory

Masterlist

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes widened as he fell to his knees before her. “I’m sorry Lyubimaya.”

Warnings: swearing | Fyodor & Higuchi

Note: according to Google Lyubimaya means sweetheart and Koibito means person you love - also let me know if you want more Witch Higuchi she’s fun to write.

It had finally happened. They had him, they’d won and yet something far worse than Fyodor Dostoevsky was awaiting them all.

He sat in the pitiful cell, having grown board of counting every imperfection he could see, he’d never wished for a book more in his life.

The Armed Detective Agency, Port Mafia and the Hunting Dogs had grown tired of asking him questions it seemed and he couldn’t even entertain himself with the notion of killing the guards… they’d nullified his ability with some serum… how annoying.

He felt very sleepy all of a sudden, probably due to boredom and allowed himself to drift away from this sinful world.

~~*~~

“Higuchi we may need to…” Mori’s voice was hushed, eyes only locked on her- and quite clearly ignoring the strange looks being sent their way.

“If it cannot be helped.” She sighed, spinning on her heel. “I need to… change.”

She was out of the room before anyone could question the interaction.

Some time ago when Fyodor first started (or, well was first noticed) his Yokohama crime spree she’d gone digging- his name having rung a bell.

Of course she had been correct but not quite how she had expected… and only Mori knew of her discovery both having brushed it off as a strange coincidence.

Her ancestor Natsuko Higuchi- the woman she had been named after though she did not use her name at work- had been married twice, the first had tried to burn her at the stake while the other… well she wouldn’t have been born if he had done that too.

What amused her though was how similar she looked to the woman too… and how eerily similar Fyodor looked to her first husband… his name matched too.

Her looks however, was not all she inherited from the woman.

Then there was that mass reveal by Sigma and now here she is with a plan Mori and she had only whispered about. So here she was staring in a mirror as she braced herself for what was to come.

With a sigh Ichiyo Higuchi tugged the blonde wig from her head, raven black hair having been hidden beneath. Her natural hair had been sat in a crown braid, the hairstyle she had been known for as a child and conveniently quite close to how the drawings of Natsuko’s depicted her.

Next was her clothes as she tugged away her usual suit, pulling on a nice black dress instead, nothing too drastic, just enough for the plan to work.

Barefoot, no heels, no makeup. Just her hair, the dress and the heirloom ring she carried for good luck.

It was enough.

It would have to be.

~~*~~

Sakura blossoms had always been a scent Fyodor could not stand. Not for any reason par how they reminded him of the life he had destroyed.

He had ruined something good, something beautiful all because she’d had a gift. One she never used until one of his men had attacked her…

His eyes shot open, the memory of his wife’s face burning behind his eyelids just as she had done.

Beat.

The room was different.

No this was not a room but the old cottage… of all times to dream of this place.

He was on the bed he’d shared with Natsuko, he could still feel her, taste her even after all these years.

A humming came from the kitchen, a song he had not heard in so long.

He was up in a second, bare feet hitting the cold ground. Shoving away open the crooked door that led out of their small bedroom he paused.

There she was, stitching a hole that had formed in one of his shirts (in the back of his mind he vaguely remembers catching it on a broken branch). Natsuko was as beautiful as ever, her dark hair in a braid, brown eyes focused on each and every stitch, her perfectly kissable lips pursed in concentration and her dark grey dress bunched around her- her legs must have been crossed.

He could hear her excuse too “I’m at home koibito I should not need to uphold the world’s standards here.”

Each step he took towards her was agony. He missed her so, so much and yet he had been the reason she was no longer alive… this had to be a dream, or perhaps a message- yes a message from the one he loves.

Natsuko paused her work, looking up to him with a smile, though one laced with concern.

“Are you alright?” She questioned. “That was a nasty fall you had the other day.”

Fall?

Had he fallen?

“I feel quite fine Lyubimaya.” He pulled out the chair beside her and sat.

It was her, it had to be her.

“That’s good.” She placed the shirt and needle onto the table where he spied the wedding band on her left hand… she wore it even in death… “Viktor stopped by- said he and Maria would like us over for dinner by weeks end.”

Viktor… his fists clenched. That day when Fyodor decided his wife’s fate he’d seen Viktor slam into a tree, had seen Finn’s hands welt with heat so blistering… his wife was a witch.

But when she looked at him like that, like he was her world, he couldn’t bear to think her as anything but that too.

“Fyodor?” He sucked in a breath. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He clasped her hands in his, warm, smooth- calloused exactly where he remembers them being- and just held them, bringing one to his mouth to kiss before simply holding them again.

“I had a terrible dream my love.” He lies, like his conscience wasn’t ripping him apart. “I did terrible things.”

It was dream after all wasn’t it? He could tell her these things, he could be weak with her.

Though if it was a message… maybe some truth was necessary for his sins to be lifted… just that little bit as his God torments him with the woman he loves.

“Tell me.”

He smiled at her, blunt as usual- it was her, it truely was.

So he told her.

Told her how he snuck into Bram Stoker’s castle, ready to blame him for her death instead of himself. How the guard had impaled him and a curse had come full force.

Told her how in the future more people were sinfully gifted and how he wanted to exterminate that- needed to.

He told her every single detail, every gruesome plan he’d concocted- he didn’t spare a single detail, nor his glee when he told her how he finally had Bram under his control.

That glee faded when he looked at Natsuko, a worried frown etched on her beautiful face. He kissed her hand again, promising he would never do such a thing to her, promised that if she had magic he would not go down that path.

It was true. If he had the chance to do it again… he’d choose her this time.

What he did not tell her was that he had killed her. He had burnt her at the stake for witchcraft and regretted it.

A tear fell down Natsuko’s cheek and as he always did he cupped her face in his hands, resting his forehead against her’s.

“The fall must have made me insane.” He whispered.

She felt so real and warm and…

The room shifted, no… it set alight and all those warm happy feelings came to a halt.

“Why?” Natsuko whispered. “Why did you kill me?”

His breath caught in his throat… she already knew what he had done.

Flames licked at his feet, at her dress- no longer that dark grey but the chemise he had once stripped her to.

He had no answer for her. Not one that didn’t sound like an excuse for his ego.

“Because I am a monster.” He said instead.

“Why did you kill me?” She asked again.

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes widened as he fell to his knees before her. “I’m sorry Lyubimaya.”

His hands grabbed whatever he could, her chemise, her hands, her legs- he just needed to hold her, to show how deeply sorry he was.

She slipped from her chair too, the smell of smoke wafting as she did. He stared up at her, watching her mouth move, but all he could hear was her screams. He wrapped his arms around her legs, silently begging for her to stay- he would never beg aloud no matter who was before him.

“Stand.”

And so he did, following the command instantly, though his hands travelled up the smooth expanse of her legs as he did.

She tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear and he could do nothing but lean into the touch, lean into her until he was but a breath away.

“Natsuko.” He whispered.

Kiss her, make it up to her, anything- do anything. He needed to.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She stated, breath fanning over his lips as she did. He froze as the world melted away, the cold white cell forming once more and the woman before him… she still looked so much like Natsuko though she wore a black dress that left little to the imagination.

He had her pressed against the wall, when he’d done that he didn’t… no he’d gone to kiss the woman before him- a woman who was not his wife.

“Take five steps back.” And so he did, eyes wide and jaw clenched. “I apologise for resorting to that method.”

“No you aren’t.” He snarled.

“You wouldn’t tell us a thing Dostoevsky… we needed information and so I did what I do best.” The woman stated, his wife’s face stone cold as she stared at him.

“An illusionist?” He questioned.

“No.” She answered with a sickeningly sweet smile then shrugged. “I just got into your head… maybe it was witchcraft.”

“You pretended to be my wife… all so I would talk?”

“I think that is obvious…” She sent a look to the camera in the corner of the cell. “Though in a truely hilarious turn of events Dostoevsky Natsuko Higuchi is my ancestor- I was even named after her.”

“Bitch.” That was impossible.

He tried to surge forward.

“Don’t move.” She commanded. “Natsuko Higuchi did not burn, in fact she’d escaped amidst the flames… found another beau and here I am- with zero relation to you thankfully.”

He seethed. A lie, he’d watched her burn.

“Higuchi we have everything we need.” Mori’s voice intercepted over the speaker.

“Rest well koibito.” She hummed, turning on her heel and out the door to the cell. “You can move now.” Was all she said as the door slammed shut.

~~*~~

She had her name, her face, her voice and even had an ability he’d akin to witchcraft. Fyodor laughed as he collapsed onto his bed, the interaction replaying over and over in his mind.

Perhaps she was Natsuko reincarnated…

Maybe he’d get a second chance after all.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝕲𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖓

____________________________

𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌!𝕭𝖚𝖈𝖐𝖞 𝖝 𝕶𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙!𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝕬𝖀

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: When the Queen falls sick and passes away, King Bucky must marry another, preferably the princess of an alliance kingdom nearby, in order to keep peace and order among the lands. However she is the most god awful human being anyone has ever met. Her guard however well she was definitely not what the king expected.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: nothing (part two)

𝖆/𝖓: opening a taglist for those who want to be tagged in future parts! just message me, reblog, ask, whatever works best for y’all! thanks so much for the love on the first already! 

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.4k

part one |

___________________________

“Psst!” you turned around in search of the voice.

“Psst! Y/n!”

“Wanda?”

Wanda was the town witch. She lives right behind the kingdom’s castle in the woods and often visits you when she gets bored. 

“Hey I’m waiting for shit to do it’s thing and I remembered the pretty king was supposed to come today,” she said winking. 

“Indeed. He and his colleagues are having breakfast right now.”

“And you’re out here because?”

“The Queen and Charlotte joined them.”

“Oh, ew.”

“I’m rather fond of the Queen, she’s like my mother,” you said. 

“I was talking about Charlotte. Anyway, have you seen him?”

“Of course. I was the first to greet them.”

“What does he look like? Is he old and ugly looking for fresh meat?”

“No, actually quite young to be a King in my opinion.”

“Is he handsome?” she quirked.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to say.” you avoided. There was no way that you were going to tell Wanda about how incredibly jealous you may be of Charlotte. She gets the chance to possibly marry one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. How you kept composure when you first saw him will forever remain a mystery.

“So he is handsome,” Wanda interrupted.

“Pardon?”

“You know I can read minds.”

“Right.” 

“So tell me how did you keep your composure? Also I must meet him now that he’s got your panties in a bunch. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so flustered over a man. Not since-”

“I’m not flustered! And yes, he is quite handsome but he’s here for Charlotte.”

“So you have zero chance?”

“Not that I want one but yes.”

“That sucks.”

“Excuse me,” King James startled you both. 

“Your majesty,” you both said bowing. 

“Do you know where I could find the king’s advisor? Bruce, I believe.”

“Ah yes. I can show you the way if you’d like?” you responded.

“Yes please. But allow me to find my own advisor before we head over.”

“That’s alrig-”

“James. I apologize for my tardiness,” a man with blonde hair said approaching you guys.

“Y/n, this is my advisor, Vision. Vision, this is the king’s lead knight.”

“Hello. And hello there,” he looked behind you where Wanda was hiding quite poorly if you do say so.

“Wanda it’s alright. I’ll be back.”

“He’s cute. I like him,” you heard her say in your head. You had to stifle a chuckle but proceeded to lead the men to Doctor Bruce Banner, the king’s advisor and doctor of the castle. 

“Good afternoon, Dr. Bruce. I’ve brought our guests King James Barnes and his accomplice advisor Vision.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Vision.”

You watched the men interact and felt yourself becoming a bother to them so you slipped out quietly and went ahead to look for Charlotte. Bucky, clueless to what the men began talking about, also slipped out the room following close behind you. 

“Miss,” Bucky called for you.

“Yes? Is there anything you need? I was just about to fetch Charlotte for you to meet.”

“Oh that’s wonderful hope you don’t mind if I tag along. I have no idea where I am,” he laughed. God, his laugh was beautiful. Smooth like butter.

“No need to fret. So tell me about yourself.”

“Well, my parents died young so I’ve been King for quite too long now.”

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

“It’s alright. They were quite sick, nothing could’ve saved them. I had married Elizabeth but she too grew sick and passed away not long ago. My people demanded a queen so when your king had offered his youngest daughter I figured I’d come for the sake of my people.”

“You’ll like her,” you hesitated. Charlotte was pretty awful.

“Really?” He sounded skeptical. 

“I will not speak ill of the king’s daughter. It is my job to protect her,” you hesitated.

“So no?”

“No.” you gave in. 

Charlotte was in her room with Bucky’s friend Natasha completely talking her ear off. When you and Bucky arrived her eyes grew wide and she sighed in relief that she doesn’t have to talk to her anymore. 

“I have to go,” Natasha said to Charlotte.

“But-”

“Charlotte, the king is here for you,” you announced.

“HI!” she shouted, startling everyone in the room. 

“Good fucking luck,” Natasha whispered to Bucky.

“Come let’s go,” she grabbed your arm and dragged you away.

You nodded to Charlotte and closed the doors. You stepped to the side to guard the door when Natasha had halted turning back to you. 

“What are you doing?” she asked you.

“I’m guarding the princess’s room. There is an unknown man in her room and I must be here to make sure she’s safe.”

“Bucky isn’t gonna hurt her.”

“You never know.”

“Well, I want to chat with you. I like you. Wasn’t expecting a woman to be a lead knight. You should meet with Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers. They’re Bucky’s most noble knights and I think you’d like them.”

“And if the princess is harmed?”

“Have another guard protect her.” 

You were contemplating because meeting with the other knights did seem more appealing than standing in front of the princess’s room all day. Thor, one of your more admirable friends within the army, also the king’s personal guard, was walking down the corridor, probably keeping watch for there were many unknown guests in the castle. 

“Thor!” you shouted, bringing attention to you and Natasha. 

“Good evening, dame.” 

“Would you be able to guard the princess’s room while I speak with King James’s knights.”

“Of course.”

You bowed your head and walked with Natasha back to the dining hall where the men. 

“Boys, I brought her.”

The men’s eyes grew wide as they walked toward you to greet you with enthusiasm. 

“Good afternoon. I’m Sir Steven Grant Rogers and this is Sir Sam Wilson. We are noble knights and loyal friends of King James Barnes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you as to you, I’m Dame Y/n L/n; though I’m sure you knew.”

“We truly admire your bravery and skill as a knight and especially as a woman. It’s rare to see someone like you excel in power the way you do,” Sam said. 

“Why is it so hard for men to believe that women can be and are strong and brave like men,” Natasha nudged your arm. 

“Couldn’t tell you,” you joked.

“Y/n, I have a young knight back home that I believe would deeply appreciate your intel and advice on fighting and chivalry. Would you ever be interested in teaching the lad? Assuming this marriage goes well,” Steve asked you.

“Well, even if not I don’t see why we can’t keep an alliance. I would love to,” you responded.

“How did you become a knight?” Natasha asked you.

“Well, I was born to thieves and they were captured by the king. They were cowards however and took cyanide instead of pleading a case. I was eight at the time. The queen found me and practically took me in as her own. I wasn’t too fond of the pretty dresses and crowns. The queen had me learn to fight and now here we are. I’ve been a lead knight for years now. Until the last battle against the rebels but we hadn’t needed the army since then so now the king has me as his youngest daughter's personal guard.”

“What happened at the battle?” Natasha asked.

“I wouldn’t rather talk about that,” you whispered shyly. It was a horrible day for you and your men. You won but not without lots of bloodshed and loss. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“It’s alright.”

“Y/n!” the king called for you.

“Yes, your majesty?” 

“Show our guests to their rooms and make sure everything is in order for the celebration in a few weeks.”

“Of course.”

You led them to their rooms and little did you know Bucky had listened to almost everything you had to say to his friends. He had to step away from Charlotte as she was simply speaking ill of the kingdom’s chefs and maids and you at some point. She also talked extremely high of herself, too high.

Unlucky for her, he was beginning to grow more fond of you than the girl that wouldn’t stop talking about herself moments ago. 

The celebration he and many kings had been invited to was only a few weeks away. And Bucky and his friends would be staying with the king until then. He was determined to get to know you in every way possible. He hoped that you would let him, until then he was going to have to pretend to be interested in the brat that was the king’s daughter.

======================================

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:

@velvetcardiganbucky​

@chipilerendi​

@heavenhatesme

@austynparksandpizza

@ahahafudge​

[lynelovespopculture]

THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA-CHAPTER 15 THE DREAM/PART 4 I HAVE BEEN WORKING MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT FOR 3 DAYS TO GET THIS ‘EMERGENY’CHAPTER OUT TO YOU. IF YOU’VE NEVER COMMENT ON MY WORK BEFORE, NOW’S THE PERFECT TIME TO START BECAUSE AS A WRITER AND A SPELLWOOD FAN, I’M FEELING FRAGILE RIGHT NOW. -THANKS, LYNEZELDA

“No! Oh dark mother, please, no!” Faustus Spellman jolted up in bed, pushing the bedspread off his naked chest which now heaved up and down with heavy breaths.  Faustus was unaware of just how sweaty he was until he buried his face in his hands.

“Honey? What is it? What’s wrong?”

Faustus looked up to see his Zelda, in her eyes he saw concern for him. “Zelda, come no closer! Don’t make me hurt you more! Please, I beg of you, stay away!” Faustus moved from middle of the bed to the end. 1 moment he felt the mattress beneath his hand, another moment there was only air. Faustus prepared himself for the fall, only it never came, for Zelda had rushed to his side, pulled him up and in an effort to comfort him, tried to put his head on her chest, which made him very confused. He fought her. “Zelda!  Get away from me while you can!”

Still, Zelda was worried. “Darling? Hush now, can’t you see that you just had another nightmare?!”

Faustus shook his head. “It wasn’t,” He insisted. “It was too real this time.”

Zelda tried again. “What did you dream about? Walk me through it, all that you can remember.”

Faustus sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “It was like no time had passed. I was struck inside Blackwood, who of course, trying to hurt you and the coven. I just can’t escape it, can I? I truly am evil!”

“Try to focus, Faustus. Please tell me what happened.”

“I founded another church. The Church of the Night Pilgrims.”

Zelda shook her head. “There is no such church. I would know, as an ordained high priestess, I have a current list of all the world’s covens. I can show it to you if like.”

“I won Mary Wardwell to my cause!” He said firmly.

“Impossible for 2 reasons!” Zelda’s reply was just as firm. “Mary Wardwell would never abandon her faith that easily and secondly, you never properly meet that mortal, only once when you with stuck in Blackwood.”

“I freed the Eldritch Terrors.  I did!” He insisted when Zelda only sighed.  “All 8 of them, the darkness, the uninvited, the weird, the perverse, the cosmic, the return, the endless and the void. I also almost ruined Hilda’s wedding with the uninvited.”

Zelda pleaded gently by putting her hands on his chest. “You have warned us about the Terrors ever since you spilt from the curse. We have taken all the precautions but not 1 terror has shown up yet. It’s been 13 years and waiting.  You didn’t ruin Hilda’s wedding. You escorted her down the aisle after saving her groom from armed robbers. The 2 of you have been best friends ever since remember? Darling, please, you have to stop!”

But Faustus couldn’t stop; He was afraid if he stopped talking, he would give into the tears that were just below the surface and then he would never be dried eyed again. “Oh, and Lilith gave birth to a boy and called him Adam.”

“Easy fix. Lilith’s son is named Alexander and shortly after his birth, she met a man called Adam who was working for Emperor Blackwood. You just got your wires crossed on that 1.”

Rather than calm down, Faustus stiffened. “Oh goddess! Emperor Blackwood! Even if I had the power, why would I go around arresting witches? It makes no sense! For goddess’s sake, I’m a witch myself! And why would I spent so much time and energy to get rid of Sabrina? She’s such a sweet girl and we have made our peace.”

Zelda listened patiently. “Yes, I agree with you about Sabrina, but I have no idea what else you’re talking about. Blackwood took the title of Emperor when he stole Elizabeth’s throne, not you. As for arresting witches, well, my love, that simply never happened.”

“What of the weird sisters?” Faustus demanded.

“They’re fine,” Zelda assured him.  “Prudence, Dorcus and Agatha are all fine.”

“No. Agatha was insane and was murdered by Prudence and Dorcus.”

“You cured Agatha of her insanity years ago and then all was forgiven, for her and for you.”

“And the other sisters?”

“What other sisters?” Asked a confused Zelda.

“Well, for 1, Rosalind Walker.”

“What?! Rosalind is a seer, not a witch. Never was, never will be.”

“And Mambo Marie? Or Baron S-something, as he turned out to be. He was a lord of the underworld, who was still in love with you.”

“What? Poppycock! Mambo Marie is still living in New Orleans. We know that because she got married last month. Prudence went to the wedding and we sent her off with a gift. Hecate, Faustus, you signed the card. We all did! I just got a lovely thank you card from Marie and her new wife the other day. Anyway, it doesn’t matter because I love you.”

“Well, you shouldn’t!” Faustus jumped away from the bed and from Zelda’s gentle touch. The tears finally started to fall. “I killed Sabrina! Or I helped her to her death when I tried to sacrifice her to the void so I could have it power for myself. You tricked me which made me blind and later, Prudence took a chainsaw, cut off my limbs and buried them at the 4 corners of the world and you were both right to do it!”

Zelda calmly got off the bed and went to her husband. “I don’t know what the void is, but I do know that Sabrina is fine. Yes, she is!” Zelda stressed when Faustus shook his head violently. “In fact, right before I came back in here to check on you, I just off the phone with her. Sabrina just got final approval for her new office and she wanted me to thank you.”

“Sabrina thank me? Whatever for?!”

“Perhaps because you helped her find the place? Or because you co-signed for the loan. Or because you gave the idea to be a therapist in the 1st place?”

“I did?”

“You did.” Zelda confirmed. “What about the other things you said? Are you blind now?”

“Only by my tears.” Faustus mumbled.

Zelda gently wiped his eyes for him. There. Now, what do you see?”

“What I always see when I look at you. The most beautiful woman, witch or mortal, in all the realms.” Zelda smiled at him and it would have been so damn easy to give in. Faustus wanted so badly to believe he could be this great guy who would live with this goddess who had owned his heart forever.  He leaned in to kiss her but turned away at the last second. “No! I can’t! If I can dream all this, then I must still be dangerous.”

“Faustus- “

“Zelda, I’m going to leave now and you must promise me that if you ever even hear the name of Faustus Blackwood, you will run the other way!”

“Alright, I will.”

It broke his heart completely to hear her agree but it was for best. However, he only half turned before he felt Zelda’s hand on his arm.

“You know; Faustus Blackwood no longer exists. You are Faustus Spellman and this” Zelda leaned over and took a framed picture from the nightstand. “is Faustus Spellman’s family, taken not even 2 weeks ago.”

Faustus looked at the photo. They were all there. Him, Zelda, Hilda, Dr. C, Sabrina, Ambrose, Prudence, the twins, Judith and Ju-no, their names were LJ and Jake now. They were all smiling and happy. Then Faustus saw a face that was not in his dream at all. “Cordelia?”

“Of course, Cordelia.” Zelda smiled. “Our 12-year-old is probably downstairs right now, eating cereal and watching TV, like she does every Sunday. I love you, and I won’t let you throw away 13 years of your hard work to be mentally well. It was all a dream, Faustus. It means nothing. Everything’s fine. I really hate that it’s been over a decade and Edward’s curse still has the ability to haunt you like this.”

Faustus couldn’t quite hide a little smile. He was touched beyond words how Zelda thought of it as Edward’s curse, not his own. Still, he wasn’t sure. “How can I know that this isn’t the dream?” Faustus wondered. “What if I’m still stuck inside Blackwood?” That thought terrified him.

“Blackwood has been gone and buried for the last 12 years. Still, if you have to be convince that this isn’t a dream.”

“Ow,” Yet he smiled when Zelda pinched him.

His wife raised her eyebrow. “Not enough? Okay.” Zelda leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

During the kiss, Faustus felt Zelda unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you doing?”

“Checking,” Zelda said matter of fact. “Earlier you mentioned Prudence cut your limbs off. If that actually happened, you would have scars.” She lowered his shirt and kissed around his shoulders. “No scars here. Wait, I need to check on something.”

“Where are you going?”

“On the night we buried Blackwood, I had to save your life with a binding spell. Which means that if you have a mark on your body, I have it on mine as well.”  Zelda explained as she went to look in the mirror.

Faustus came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle. “I was beheaded too, but your neck seems fine.”  He gently brushed her hair aside and began kissing her neck.

“What about my shoulders?”

Faustus was still kissing her neck when he tugged off Zelda’s silk robe and let it fall to the floor. Then 1 at a time, he pulled down the straps of her nightgown. “Nothing here,” he reported. He claimed her lips with his own and then kissed her brow. “You know; I did say all 4 limbs.” Zelda felt a delightful shiver as Faustus let her nightgown fall to the floor. His long arms felt the front of her until he got to the limbs of her thighs. His fingers made quick work of her underwear, letting them fall as well. “You are perfection.” He whispered as he touched the most secret part of her.

As soon as she was able, Zelda turned around. “Now that I’m all checked out, let’s finish with you.” The pretense was dropped entirely after that, just like Faustus’s pants. They tumbled backwards onto the bed, clinging tightly to each other as they made love.

“I love you, Zelda.”

“I love you, Faustus.”

Faustus fell asleep quickly after their lovemaking. It was no surprise to Zelda. After all that dreaming in the night, he must have gotten very little rest. She kissed his forehead and whispered, “Sleep long, sleep sound. Let no more dreams come around.” Happy with her spell, Zelda got up, got dressed and started the phone calls.

 Faustus awoke to the sounds of a busy kitchen. 1 look at the clock told him he had slept the day away. Just taking a shower and getting dressed made him feel better. He went downstairs and the 1st thing he saw was the weird sisters, who were setting the table.

Prudence looked up first. Although Faustus felt weary, her eyes and her smile were welcoming. “Hello, Father.”

“Hello, Mr. Spellman.” Agatha and Dorcus said together, in that unique weird sister way.

It was oddly comforting. “Hello, girls.” Faustus was still smiling when he felt a pat on his back.

He looked beside him to see Dr.  C. “Hey buddy! Zelda called and said you had a rough night. We thought a nice family dinner would make you feel better.”

Faustus remained speechless but he walked into the kitchen with Dr. C. Then he saw the steel wrist band on Dr. C’s arm. “You still have the incubus?”

“Of  course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Uh…never mind.”

They reached the kitchen where he saw more Spellmans readying dinner. Well, most of them. Ambrose was leaning against the island, casually reading a book and dipping his free hand into a food bowl, until LJ slapped his hand away.

“Father! You’re finally up, sleepyhead!” Jake tossed him a teasing smile as he carried the chopped carrots to the stove and dropped them into the pot that Hilda was stirring.

“Hey Dad,” the child’s comment was casual as she walked by him, carrying a side dish, bound for the dinning table. However, Faustus had to reach out and touch her, afraid she would disappear right before his eyes.

“Cordelia!  You’re real!”

Her face, exactly like Zelda’s, clouded over in confusion. “Thanks? So are you?”

He watched her walk away and for the 1st time, Faustus thought that perhaps Zelda was right, perhaps it all had been just a dream! Then Faustus saw something that made his heart drop into his stomach. A very   much alive Vinegar Tom got off his dog bed and went to his food bowl. Of course, he had no problem with the dog being alive. Heaven, when he first heard of the familiar’s death, his gut instinct was to run and comfort Zelda, yet he couldn’t because he was still married to Constance at the time. No, the problem was that Tom’s life was Marie’s final gift before returning to the underworld. If that part of the dream was real surely everything else was real too.

Faustus was still trying to sort fact from fiction when an arm came around his waist and Zelda kissed him. “Feeling better, darling?”

“Vinegar Tom is alive?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Don’t you remember?”

“Humor me, dearest, please?” Faustus begged.

“Well,” Zelda’s voice lowered to a whisper. “As you know, I cried hardest for Tom on his birthday and you always do your best to comfort me. But 3 years ago, when she was 9, Cordy must have heard us for later, when we went downstairs, we found her petting Tom’s stuffed form.”

“Yes!” The memory struck Faustus’s brain like lighting. “I managed to get Cordelia out of the room, but you called me back a moment later, Vinnie was alive. We didn’t know how to explain it to Cordy, so you kept Tom at the academy for a few weeks. When Vinnie came back, we told Cordelia that he was a new dog, named Vinegar Tom as tribute.”

“Yes! That’s exactly what happened.”

Faustus was smiling at his wife when his feet felt warm. He looked down to see Vinnie sitting on his shoes. He picked up   the dog and, together with Zelda, petted him. “I’m glad you have your soul mate back.”

“I’m glad I have both my soul mates back.”

“You said that to me before. The night VT came back.”

 5 minutes later,  with everyone around the table, Faustus finally realized who was  missing. G  He was about ask when the front door opened.

“Hi all. Sorry I’m late.”

Before he realized he was doing it, Faustus ran to her and hugged her. “Sabrina!”

“Hi Uncle Faustus. Nice to see you too.”

“Your tongue! For the love of Hecate, please show me your tongue!”

“O-okay.” Sabrina spit out her tongue.

“Pink and normal. Yes!”

“What’s with him?” Asked Sabrina.

Zelda came up behind her husband. “Your uncle had an awful dream last night. I’m afraid he’s still recovering.”

“Oh, well, don’t worry, it’s just a dream.” Sabrina kissed his cheek.

Faustus was still feeling his cheek when Zelda took his hand and led him back to the table. “1 more question, have any of you ever felt like you ever on a tv show?”

[bbyx]

ripple effect - part three

Summary: During her fourth year at Hogwarts, (y/n) Deauxville falls for none other than Cedric Diggory. But it's not easy when you have to deal with protecting your family's fortune, keeping your father's illness a secret and having two of your closest friends catch feelings for you.

Pairings : reader x cedric, reader x draco, reader x harry

With help from some of the Ministry's interns, your tent was finally up. It was lilac purple with a beautiful satin finish. Walking inside always took your breath away just because of the sheer size of the tent. It smelt brand new and didn't have that homey feeling like the Weasley's tent but it would do for a couple nights.

(y/n) plops down on the bed. She opens up and rereads the letter that Minister Fudge had sent her father two months ago. You had started reading your dad's mail and answering for him since he was no longer capable of doing it himself. Your father had a very formal way of writing so it had been easy enough to imitate his handwriting to answer the Minister's letter.

You open the creamy beige envelope and pull out a sturdy white letter with gold embellishments. It reads:

Dear (f/n),                                                                                                                  I hope this letter is finding you in good health. I've heard that you have recently been traveling Europe in search of new properties. Barty and myself were wondering if you would be so kind as to join us for a meeting during the Quidditch World cup. The time is nearing and we must finalize the deal.  Looking forward to seeing you,                                                                                                                                Cornelius

You tried remembering what you wrote in the answering letter. It went something like this.

Dear Cornelius,                                                                                                         I am currently in Romania for business and I unfortunately will not be back in time for the Quidditch World Cup. However i've left my daughter (y/n) in charge of my business affairs while I am away and she would be delighted to join you. Barty and yourself can finalize the deal with her.  Wishing you the best,                                                                                                                                             (f/n)

Your father had started a real estate company when he was twenty four and it had grown into one of the most successful businesses in the wizarding world and in Britain. You assumed that the Minister and Barty Crouch wanted to buy a property but you didn't know anything further. It was a very secretive affair and you had searched your father's files extensively but there was no mention of this mysterious deal anywhere. You were essentially going in blind.

The meeting was going to be over dinner in the Minister's box during the Quidditch Match. (y/n) had time to kill so she walked back to the Weasley's tent.

You arrive just in time to see the Weasley twins and Ludo Bagman betting on the games.

"Personally I have to agree with Mr.Bagman, my money is on Bulgaria winning" You tease and the twins shake their ginger heads.

You hear sirens that signal the stadium has opened. You head over with your friends. The inside of the Quidditch stadium is just as breathtakingly festive as the outside. Red and green coats everything, it is filled with headshots of various Quidditch players and drunken voices singing national anthems.

"Blimey how far up are we dad!" Rom complains.

"Well, put it this way, if it rains you'll be the first to know." You turn towards the familiar cold posh voice. Lucius Malfoy.

You had grown up with the Malfoy's and practically spent half your childhood at their house. Narcissa has become a second mother to you after your own mother's death. (y/n) had her suspicions that her parents and the Malfoy's were hoping their children would get married but (y/n) cringed at the idea. It wasn't that you didn't like Draco but your relationship was more like cousins. He was like that one favourite cousin everyone has that makes all family gatherings fun. But you couldn't stand the snobby facade Draco put on whenever he was around other people. Like now.

"Father and I are in the minister's box. A personal invitation from Cornelius Fudge himself."

"Don't boast, Draco" Lucius says while nudging him with his cane. " There is no need with these people."

You rolled your eyes so hard it felt like you could see the back of your skull.

"Ah miss Deauxville, I believe you'll be joining us in the Minister' box." Lucius says in a respectful tone.

You hated how he talked to your friends like they were lower than you. Lucius nudges Draco with his cane and Draco immediately offers you his arm. You look back at the trio and mouth help me as you take Draco's arm.

"Have fun" Hermione says sarcastically.

The Minister's box is filled with house elves carrying trays of little delicacies and wizards and witches dressed in overly formal clothing. You immediately felt underdressed in your sweater and tennis skirt. But to your delight you could see the sweat glistening off their skin, after all it was still mid August.

A curly haired blonde woman in a ridiculously tight plum dress and green glasses walks over to Mr. Malfoy.

" Ah Lucius, darling, I see Draco has brought his little girlfriend along." She sneers at you, clearly not recognizing you. However you knew exactly who this was, Rita Skeeter, a slimy idiotic gossip columnist with worms for a brain.           " Hope she enjoys this once in a lifetime opportunity to dine with such fine people."

You feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Miss Deauxville, so glad you could make it. The Minister would like to talk in his private room."

Rita Skeeter's face blanched when she realised you were a Deauxville and you follow Barty Crouch through a curtain into a smaller room with a round table and a huge window.

Seated at the table was Minister Fudge, you took a seat just as the team mascots stepped out on the field. The beautiful Bulgarian veelas danced on the field while the Irish leprechauns bounded with their gold, this angered the veelas who in turn transformed into demon-like bird creatures. The teams stepped out on the field, national anthems were played and the snitch was released.

"Well let's get this over with quickly so we have a chance to enjoy the game" You say.

Cornelius Fudge starts.

"Yes, yes well as I'm sure your father mentioned, the Ministry would like to lease a property for a couple months."

Just then Percy walks in holding a stack of papers.

"Here are the papers you asked for Mr.Crouch." He says importantly.

"Ah thank you Weatherby. You may go now."

You almost choke trying to stifle your laugh, earning a glare from Percy as he leaves. Mr Crouch hands you a stack of papers.

" The contract." He simply states. You're too distracted to notice the house elves bring the meal to the table.

You take your time to look it over for any loopholes. Normally your father would have his team of lawyers draw up his own contracts but this would do.

"You want to lease lot number 637? The two acres in the Black Forest, next to Hogwarts? You're sure?"

"Yes" The Minister replied looking uncomfortable.

"There are a few modifications we would like to do to this property." Barty Crouch cuts in.

"What kind of modifications?" You ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Well first we would like to cut most of the trees off"

You squawk.

"What! You realise that property will lose all value without the trees."

"Indeed but the ministry is prepared to compensate you for the trees and any fire damage." Mr.Fudge adds.

"Fire damage! What on earth are you planning on doing there!" You blurt out, you're voice rising several octaves.

" Miss Deauxville, we would tell you if we could, trust us it would make this so much easier, but unfortunately you are still a Hogwarts student and therefore we regretfully have to keep our lips sealed."

You decide to let it go. After all your father had done plenty of suspicious deals before he fell ill.

"How much are you offering?"

"370 000 galleons for eight weeks" Barty answers. You knew that property in the middle of the Black Forest was essentially worthless because of the aggressive centaurs that lived around it. They were offering a lot more money than expected so you quickly grabbed your pen and signed the contract. The two other men did the same. You got up to shake their hands and left the room.

(y/n) sat next to Draco and Lucius Malfoy for the remainder of the game. They made small talk but she couldn't focus on anything other than that property in the Black Forest.

Why the hell would the ministry be so eager to lease that dump? Why would there be fire damage? Why cut all the trees? Questions were swarming your mind like bees.

You look up when you hear the tremendous cheers coming from all the Irish fans. The game was over. You smile to yourself.

Those bloody Weasleys predicted it. Krum caught the snitch but Ireland won.

Both teams came up to the Minister's box to shake his hand. Everyone got up and clapped when the Irish team proudly walked in. The Bulgarian team stomped in with it's sulking seeker Victor Kum leading them. You started shaking hands with people you barely recognized just trying to get out of there as fast as possible. You shake Viktor Krum's hand and give him a warm smile, after all the guy had just lost the biggest game of the year, and he gave you a smile that never completely reached his eyes. Suddenly a bright flash blinds both of you. When you regain sight you see Rita Skeeter standing there with a camera.

"Beautiful photo" She says with the phoniest widest smile.

You finally join the Weasley clan and Cedric Diggory around a campfire later that night after the Malfoys had insisted that you have dinner with them.

"Where were you? I was getting worried. I mean. We. We were getting worried" Harry says quickly. The others give him strange looks.

"Stuck at a dinner with the Malfoy's." You sigh "If anyone mentions politics or the stock exchange one more time I will slit all your throats ok?" They all laugh and explain that they're playing truth or dare.

"Give me a dare! Give me a dare!" Ginny pleads.

"That's not how it works Ginny, you have to get picked." George explained.

"We've been playing for an hour and nobody's picked me !" She whines.

"Fine, eat this" Fred says, handing her a candy.

She pops it in her mouth and her tongue starts to swell enormously. She runs to find Mr.Weasley.

"She asked for it." Fred says, throwing his hands up.

They all keep playing, (y/n) not really paying attention. She was distracted by the Minister's words: "we would tell you if we could, trust us it would make this so much easier, but unfortunately you are still a Hogwarts student and therefore we regretfully have to keep our lips sealed."

"Cedric, truth or dare." George asks, smirking.

"Dare."

"Very well, your dare is to go ask one of those veelas on a date." He says pointing to a group of breathtaking creatures. You feel a pang of jealousy as Cedric gets up. Instead he comes and sits next to you.

" (y/n), how about a date?"

"Sure" You smile and turn red as George gets up, flailing his arms around..

"No no no. I said a Veela."

"George, are you a bloody idiot, everyone in Great Britain knows (y/n) is a quarter Veela." Hermione says.

Fred and George look at you puzzled.

"Really?" Asks Fred.

"Can you do that cool demon bird shit?" George looks at you suspiciously.

You laugh. "No! It would be kinda fun though if I could. But no, I can't turn into a bird or enchant men into falling hopelessly in love." You say making dramatic hand gestures.

" I don't know about that" Mumbles Harry. You shoot him puzzled looks.

As the night goes on the group keeps talking and playing various games. Your eyes start to feel heavy.

"I think I need to go to sleep." You mumble.

"You can always sleep with me." Fred purrs. Ron hits him with the back of his hand. Cedric's jaw stiffens as he glares at Fred. He looks like he's about to say something when Hermione cuts him off.

" I'll walk you back to your tent (y/n)"

You agree and say goodnight to everyone. As you're walking back you hear screams and see dark figures with masks levitating and torturing a muggle family. You and Hermione run towards the forest where you catch up with Ron and Harry. Ron trips. Lumos Hermione whispers and a bright glow appears on the tip of her wand.

You spot Draco leaning calmly against a tree close to you.

"Better go Hermione, unless you want to show everyone your underwear, if so stick around it would be tremendously funny" He sneers while gesturing to the levitating family.

How can he be so freaking calm when people are literally being tortured less than fifty feet away?

Harry and Ron start defending Hermione and question Draco about his parent’s whereabouts. Meanwhile, you're stuck in a trance watching the family of muggles being tortured and feeling helpless.

"Have it your way, Potter" Draco grins maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a mudblood, stay where you are"

Anger ripped through your body at the sound of those words and you were about to tear his vocal cords out and jinx him within an inch of his life when someone gently squeezes your hand.

"(y/n), let's go." Cedric says, his eyes pleading.

[glacecakes]

Alchemy Lullaby (8/?)

Of all the changes that came with living in the castle, becoming a father was not one he anticipated. When Eugene encounters a small child suffering like he did, he gives them the opportunity to grow up the way he never did... helping them both heal. (AU where Varian is 4 and gets adopted by Eugene)

Part 8: Varian may seem like quite the happy child, but just because he's in a better home doesn't mean he's forgotten where he came from.

Warning: Child Abuse

Read the rest on AO3

All aboard the traumatized baby train! Choo choo! Warning, there is some explicit child abuse in here. If you don't want to see the worst of Ulla's abuse I would skip the italicized flashbacks.

Sorry this took so long, I couldn't decide how I wanted this chapter to play out.  A big thanks to the Varian Angst, Scar Varian, and Team Awesome discords for helping me with this! If you wanna join in on the baby train dm me  for an invite to the scar varian server where we pit baby in a gladiatorial hunger games against other au varians. He won today!

I know a lot of you are just here for dadgene baby varian fluff I SWEAR I'm doing a halloween spooky chapter, and then the next chapter is just gonna be a bunch of requests/cute drabbles. 

It started with a simple question. 

As Christmas bled into the New Year, and the days grew warmer and longer (Corona truly was the sun kingdom), Eugene pulled Lance aside and asked, “Ok, Lance, why are you here? What do you want?”

“W-ha, what? I don’t want anything! Come on, Flynn,”

“Eugene!”

Lance rolled his eyes. He’d been kind enough to call him Eugene around Varian, so as not to confuse the child, but otherwise he refused to call him that silly name. “Eugene,” he emphasized. “There’s nothing that I want! I’m perfectly happy to be here, since your girlfriend was so very kind in letting me stay for the holidays, and I just wanted to see how you were doing, and spend time with my nephew…” the list of excuses kept growing but Eugene didn’t buy it for a second. He stared at his friend, unimpressed, until he dropped the act. “Ok I need your help.” 

That night had been full of hijinks, stealing, getting panned, stealing back, and more hijinks. By the time Varian woke up the next morning, Lance had left the castle, Arianna had her ring back, and Eugene was exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, he assumed his headache was a result of it. Turns out he was wrong. 

“You definitely seem to be coming down with something,” the nurse murmured. Rapunzel and Varian had dragged him down there the second he gripped his head in pain. “You said you were up all night?”

Eugene rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s… been a crazy week,” he admitted. 

The nurse tutted, sighing fondly. “Spend the rest of the day in bed, and don’t let anyone in. While I doubt it, it could be infectious, and we don’t want an outbreak in the castle.” The adults devolved into conversations about medicines and soup and other adulty things, oblivious to Varian’s growing panic. Finally, he cried out, “No Eugene for a whole day!?” The noise sent shockwaves through Eugene’s skull, clashing against his brain hard enough to make him visibly wince. 

“Inside voice, kid,” Eugene moaned, and his kid at least looked apologetic. “It’s just for the day, I’ll see you tomorrow.” That didn’t soothe the child’s fears, if anything, it made him more upset. Crocodile tears bubbled in baby blue eyes and the whimpering Varian threw himself at Eugene, grabbing onto his shirt. 

“Don’t leave me!” He wailed, once again worsening the headache. Eugene sighed, and wrapped his arms around him. With quiet shushing and a few rocks back and forth, he managed to get Varian at least calmer. 

“Hey, hey, it’s not like you spend every second with me, what’s got you so worked up?” 

Varian whined, shaking his head. He didn’t want to tell Eugene, or Rapunzel, or anyone really. They always get so sad when he talks about it. 

Or rather, her. 

“Maybe he’s coming down with something too?” Rapunzel whispered to the nurse, who smiled and shook her head. 

“I think he’s just a little cranky.”

“Varian, bud,” Eugene raised his voice, and the sad boy lifted his head up. “Why don’t you go take a walk with Ruddiger, hm? Go get your cart. I’ll come get you in the morning.”

Varian didn’t want to leave his dad, not for a whole day, but he listened anyway. If he didn’t, Eugene could get sicker! And he loved Eugene, he didn’t want Eugene to be sick for any longer! So, with some reluctance, Varian detached himself for Eugene and off he went. 

“He’s such a sweet thing, how do you do it?” The nurse sighed fondly. “My kids back then were a nightmare and a half.” 

Eugene nodded sagely. “It’s all about boundaries. Kids need discipline and structure.”

Rapid footsteps pounded against the floor, and Varian came tumbling back in. “Wait! One more hug!” He cried, launching himself back into Eugene’s arms, who gladly nuzzled into his son’s unruly hair. He blew a wet kiss onto Varian’s cheek while he was at it. 

“Right, discipline,” Rapunzel muttered under her breath. 

-

A quick stop to Varian’s room and then the garden netted him a Ruddiger in a cart. The raccoon sat atop a mountain of pillows with his arms outstretched, ready to nab anything he saw fit. Normally, they’d be racing through the halls, screeching with delight. Varian would target the heels of passersby, glancing the wheels of his death machine at people’s feet. In particular, his favorite target was Nigel. The man had such a funny reaction! Sure, it usually ended in Varian being forced to give an apology, but the hidden snickers of everyone around always made up for it. 

Nigel usually tries to hide from him now. 

But Varian wasn’t really in the mood to chase him down, nor target anyone. Instead, for once, Varian decided to wander around his home. He’d been just about everywhere and explored everything, but it still all felt so… foreign. The old paintings glared down at him, ancient kings and queens who knew this wasn’t where he belonged. 

He kept waiting for the ball to drop, for his mom to scoop him up and for them to move on to the next village. 

He wandered around the corner, passing by the King’s study, when he heard his name whispered through the half opened door. Well, it was either his name or someone named Fairian, and he didn’t know anyone like that. Curiosity won out, and the small child peeked inside.

Frederick sat at his desk, sighing down at a letter. Arianna stood by his side, rubbing his back in sympathy. 

“The nobles aren’t thrilled about Varian, still,” the King complained. “And… I don’t blame them.”

“Is this about the party?”

“No, this is about the line of succession. If Rapunzel and Eugene get married, Varian is technically in line behind her. And he’s not of royal blood. It’d be one thing if Rapunzel adopted him, but he’s Eugene’s son. She’d be his stepmother.”

Arianna raised a brow. “Why are we worried about this now? Can’t Rapunzel and Eugene have a biological child? I’m sure Varian would love to be a big brother.”

Varian had no idea what the conversation was about, or what any of these words meant. He fidgeted at the door, debating whether or not to leave.

Frederick said nothing, staring harder at the letter in front of him. 

The queen’s eyes narrowed. “Is this still about how he doesn’t like you?” Frederick slammed his head onto the desk, and let out a yell of frustration. As if the door was on fire, Varian jumped back at the noise. However, he slowly crept back to the door. 

“Ah, ok, so it is.” She patted his back.

Sighing, Fred stood up. His shadow loomed over the entire room, landing in the doorway where a trembling child watched on. “No, it’s not that. The rocks.” At the queen’s silence he continued, “The infernal black rocks. They’re here, in the capital. Searching for Rapunzel. I just know it.”

“Quirin said they come from the moonstone.”

“Which means it’s here on the island somewhere.” The royal eyes hardened into steel. “I want more nightly patrols. The moonstone must be found, and it must be either destroyed, or taken back to the Dark Kingdom. Do not tell a soul, not even Rapunzel. No one can know.”

Baby blue eyes glanced downward in horror at the last part. 

-

When Varian was 3, they moved for the 10th time. 

For this village, momma demanded he keep his head down. He never left the house unless she let him, and that was a rare enough occurrence. So rare that when they went to the market, people were shocked Ulla had a son. 

But sooner or later, they were found. They always were. 

Ulla scrambled around the house, throwing what meager possessions they had into a case. In contrast, Varian occupied himself by happily playing with an alchemy textbook. He was finally starting to read, and while he couldn’t make out most of the words, simple ones like ‘the’ and ‘force’ delighted him. His momma’s normally pristine bun was a wreck, with hairs flying in every which way as she raced around the house. 

“Ugh, not again!” She moaned. “I swear, Varian, you’re going to get us killed one day! Do you want your mother to die a violent and horrible death, Varian? Do you want for us both to be torn to pieces or burned at a stake? Do you!?”

“No momma,” the toddler whimpered. He barely understood what any of those words meant, let alone the concept of death. All he knew was that his momma was mad and it was all his fault. 

Ulla stuffed a few clothes into the case and slammed it shut. “I swear, I have half a mind to leave you behind!” 

Varian’s eyes welled up with tears and he blubbered, “No, momma! I sowwy!” He stood up on the bed, reaching his arms out for comfort. She ignored him. Instead, she peeked out the window. 

A large, burly fist busted through the glass. Ulla managed to dodge out of the way in time, but couldn’t stop the scream Varian let out. He burst into hiccupping sobs, and a large black rock spiked up through the ground, nearly severing the intruding hand. 

“Witch!” The man in the window screeched. Spittle flew from his mouth. “Get out here so we can kill the lot of you! In the name of the King, you’re all under arrest!” 

Rolling her eyes, Ulla scooped up her son. Honestly, the only reason Varian was still alive was because she had hope. Hope that all of this would be worth it, hope that she could either get the stone out of him, or she could mold him into her weapon. So far, both have proven to be failures. Case in point. He seemed to only be able to use his power when upset or angry. She couldn’t rely on emotion like that. It’s why she didn’t have any feelings. Control, knowledge above all else. That was how she worked.

Which was why the baby really screwed it all up. 

“Would you shut up!” She hissed. After grabbing their belongings, she flung open the back door and made a run for it. “You know, I could really use a rock or two right now, Varian. Impale our attackers, scare them off? Anything?” The child only whimpered. “Useless.” An arrow whizzed past her ear. Groaning, Ulla dropped a case, reached into her pocket, and threw an alchemy bomb in the general direction of the arrow. She didn’t turn to see if she hit her target, the screams were enough. Varian, who was perched on her shoulder and facing back, winced. He’d seen her explosions before, they never got easier.

“I swear to god, Varian, if you run me out of one more town, so help me, I’m leaving you behind,” she growled. But Varian knew she wouldn’t. She said that about the last 4 towns. 

-

If he was spotted, he’d be in major trouble. It was bad enough he hadn’t told Eugene about the rocks, he was just… it just… hard. His momma hated him and she knew, and Eugene loved him and he didn’t. What if he told Eugene, and he turned him over to the King?

He wanted Eugene! He wanted a hug, a promise that Fred would never hurt him! But alas. Instead, Varian scampered down the hallway. His tiny legs moved as fast as they could carry him. From his cart, Ruddiger chittered anxiously, unsure about the destination or if it was a good idea. Varian didn’t care. He just needed to get away. Keep moving. 

Finally, he slowed to a stop. Breath after breath puffed out of exhausted lips, and Varian slid down onto the floor with a whimper. He hated this. 

Voices sounded from around the corner. Was it the King? Did he know Varian overheard him? Panicked, the child scooped Ruddiger up from the cart and hid behind a large plant. The raccoon complained with angry chitters, but Varian shushed him. 

Cassandra rounded the corner, two other maids by her side. They all carried mounds of laundry, too tall to see over, only around. 

Conversation was light, it sounded like the same gossip they always had. That was until Cassandra, unable to see, stepped right on top of the cart. Her foot flew with the wheels, and down went the handmaiden with a shriek. Clothes were flung into the air along with her, and she groaned in pain.

“What was that, are you ok?” One of the maids asked, dropping her basket to help her up. The third maid kicked the cart aside. 

Cassandra let out a grunt. “Yea, just my tailbone,” and with that, she scrambled to pick up her laundry. Varian had half a mind to run out and help her, but the paralyzing fear of getting in trouble kept him in place. He hadn’t meant to hurt her! Just like with the rocks, it was an accident! It always was!

“Stupid cart,” the third maid brushed Cassandra off. “Honestly, I wonder what goes through that kid’s head sometimes.”

-

“Experiment 87,” Ulla stated, speaking aloud as she wrote. The quill’s loud scratching, normally deafening, was drowned out by the hum of machinery and electricity. “The rocks seem to respond to electricity, acting like a conductor. The subject responds only to emotional distress,” The last part was said with thinly veiled disgust. “So, I have decided to combine the two concepts into one experiment.” Satisfied, the woman stood up from her chair and rounded around the room. 

Their house in Old Corona was their biggest by far. Ulla had grown up here, played here, dreamed of a moment like this here. Perhaps sans the electrically charged chair and terrified child. 

But hey, beggars can’t be choosers. 

Varian trembled like a leaf in the wind from his restraints. The leather bit into his skin, metal buckles pinching and tweaking. He didn’t dare struggle, though. That would just make Momma angry. She fiddled with the settings, humming in delight as the machine responded beautifully to her commands.

“If we give the test subject a series of controlled shocks, it should ignite his flight or fight response, which seems to be the biggest trigger of rocks. This is just the prototype, of course. If this initial test is successful, I’ll begin work on a collar, or some other portable device. As powerful as the chair is, it’s impractical.” Ulla wasn’t speaking directly to Varian. She never was in these situations. When he asked, Ulla insisted it was because she was a scientist. But the rambling was just that, the rambling of a deranged woman who longed for power by any means necessary. 

She glanced up at her son’s terrified eyes. They welled with tears, lip trembling. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She rummaged through her pockets and fished out a piece of fabric. “Open your mouth, Varian.” 

He shook his head, or at least, as best as he could in the machine.

His momma rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, this is for your own good! We’re learning how to control your rocks so you don’t ruin this life for us! Old Corona is our last resort. The sooner you learn to control yourself, the better. So stick this in your mouth and let momma work.” 

Varian couldn’t stop the hiccup that came when he opened his mouth, but Ulla took the opportunity anyway. She shoved the fabric between baby teeth, and pulled a nearby lever. 

The machine crackled with energy. Blue lightning sparked, lighting the room in a near ethereal glow. It would be beautiful if it wasn’t so painful. 

Through the fabric, Varian let out a shriek, louder than he’d ever screamed before. It was a strange mix of painful and unpleasant, that odd feeling of his body vibrating. Varian had experienced pain before. He’s gotten bruises, scrapes, the occasional burn from getting too close to momma’s experiments. And this certainly wasn’t the first time he was the test subject. But it was definitely the worst. 

He screamed again, and a black rock shot out of the ground. Ulla’s eyes gleamed hungrily.

Then another. 

And another. 

Obsidian, pure and black, gleamed as it grew closer and closer, spiking up through the floor and towards the scientist with ill intent–

Ulla slammed down on the kill switch just as a rock sliced too close, cutting a clean streak of red through the palm of her hand. She and her son cried out in unison.

All was quiet, save for the broken sobs of a frightened child. 

But Ulla didn’t care about that. She nursed her injured hand, thoughts a violent storm.

Her plan had worked… too well.

There really was no working with him, was there?

-

“More like what is he being taught,” Cassandra joked. “It’s fine, I can use it to carry the laundry before I drop it off at his door.” Hey! Cart thief! Ruddiger growled low in Varian’s ear. Varian didn’t really notice. He was trying to stifle his cries. He could still feel the electricity, the phantom shocks sent shivers down his spine. 

While Cassandra and the maids focused on the cart, Varian snuck around the plant and broke off into a sprint. This time, it wasn’t so much fear of the people, more the fear of his mind. He had no idea what was happening to him. All he knew was that he kept remembering things, awful things, the stuff he left behind when Eugene took him in. 

On any other day, whenever he was scared, he could toddle around and plead to the nearest maid to point him to Eugene. On any other day, he could beg for a hug or a show of affection, a reminder that Varian was here to stay, that he was safe. On any other day, he could happily wander the halls, knowing if he needed anything, Eugene would be right there. But he wasn’t allowed to see Eugene at all today. 

What if Eugene decided after today that he liked the peace and quiet? What if Eugene didn’t want Varian around anymore? 

Ruddiger tucked himself tightly around Varian’s shoulders, purring sweetly. The vibrations normally calmed Varian, even lulled him to sleep, but not today. Varian flinched violently when purrs jostled his neck, and he instinctually batted at it. Get him out of the machine! Get him out NOW! 

Ruddiger didn’t take kindly to that. He was trying to soothe his friend, and this is the thanks he gets? A striped tail whacked angrily against Varian’s face, and tiny teeth bit down on the child’s neck. 

He let out a shriek, and a single, massive rock spiked through the floor. Marble lay ruined at its base, and shredded carpet floated through the air. 

The two friends froze, staring in horror at the intrusion. 

The clanking of armor and heavy footsteps echoed behind him, before stuttering to a stop. Varian whipped his head around, and came face to face with a shocked Quirin.

The man took a step forward. “Son–”

“–Listen to me,” Ulla whispered. They were in a quiet alley, away from the festivities. It was so bright out today, it was as if the sun itself was here in Corona! Laughter and music verberated from the nearby square. But Varian wasn’t focused on that. His momma looked happy, excited even! She had all day! It was so rare that Varian got to see her smile, much less at him! 

“I need you to sit here and wait for me. Can you do that, Varian? Can you be good? It’ll make me very happy.” 

Varian nodded fervently. He wanted nothing more than to make his momma happy! She always seemed so sad or angry, and nothing he ever did seemed to cheer her up. In fact, his presence only made it worse. So for her to be happy because of what he did? It was heaven!

“Ok momma!” He chirped, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Now, don’t go anywhere, ok? Especially not back to Old Corona,” She booped his nose, and he giggled. “And don’t ask anyone where I am. It’s not important. Ok?”

“OK!” 

She sighed, staring down at him. Her eyes clouded with sadness, familiar and yet… foreign, this time. It seemed more bittersweet. “Farewell, moondrop,” she whispered. And with a pat to his head, she left the alley, back into the crowd. 

Varian was a good boy! He’d sit and wait! And wait he did! For nearly 2 days! Through hunger and thirst, even sleeping right there in the alley. But soon enough, he had to move. 

He’d hated it. He’d hated making his momma upset. Surely she’d be coming back, so he couldn’t leave the alley long! Then she’d get nervous!

So he came back. Only leaving for food and water, he came back, day after day, sitting in that alleyway, waiting. 

Hoping.

Praying.

Until Eugene showed him she wasn’t coming. 

She never was. 

The terror was too much. It felt as if the walls were closing in on him, suffocating him, clawing at his lungs and preventing him from breathing. 

He took one step away from Quirin. Then another. The man seemed pained, and reached out.

Varian bolted. 

He didn’t care if Eugene was going to be upset. He didn’t care if Cassie would yell about his cart. He wanted his Eugene. 

He wanted his Dad. 

Tiny legs, exhausted from the day of running, pounded through the castle for hopefully the last time. He knew the way by heart, and he was able to easily lose Quirin (if the man was even chasing him). Finally, he reached the familiar door. The guilt of waking a sick Eugene was heavily outweighed by his terror, his craving of someone who loved him no matter what. The door easily swung open, banging into the wall. 

Eugene sprang up like he’d been shot. “WHA-WHAZZAT? What’s happening?” He cried, eyes searching wildly for an explanation. The only one he got was Varian leaping into bed with him and curling up to his chest.

“Daddy, I- I’m sorry!” He coughed, sobs so violent they caused him to shake. Tiny hands gripped Eugene’s shirt with a vice like grip. 

Eugene blinked, flabbergasted. He’d never seen Varian cry this hard, not even after a nightmare! And wait, he called him Dad? Daddy? But his questions could wait. Right now, his son needed comfort. 

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s ok Bluebird,” Eugene’s strong arms wrapped around Varian, pulling him close. “You’re ok, I’m not mad, I love you.” The last one got a blubbery, garbled response Eugene couldn’t make out. The kid blew harshly into Eugene’s shirt. 

“Oh, ew,” Eugene muttered, but otherwise didn’t complain. He rocked Varian back and forth, shushing him quietly. 

Finally, warmth, safety, security. It was so relieving, so relaxing, Varian began to doze off. He’ll tell Eugene what upset him later. 

When Rapunzel came to check on her boyfriend, she found them both sound asleep. The little boy was still cradled in his dad’s arms.

“Boundaries, huh,” She sighed.

[blankdblank]

Ridikulus Pt 33

Into the clearing Legolas slid on his heels down the hill wide eyed looking you over, “What has happened? Two of our guards mentioned Naneth had come to your lands.”

Celeborn stated, “Queen Jaqi passed through to these waters, crossed beyond the falls into Valinor and surfaced again moments later with her Cousins Leta Lestrange and young Corvus. It seems Irmo willed her to sleep, it must have been tiring.”

Maglor, “These are extensive wounds.” He said inspecting the hand gripping the Lord’s sleeve on the arm holding your legs equally as bruised and bloody.

Legolas asked, “Why has she not been taken to the Healers?!”

Haldir, “Queen Jaqi has requested the presence of her Aunt Narcissa.”

Legolas’ gaze however shifted to Leta in her timid thanks to an Elleth who brought a large towel to drape around her seeing she wished to be covered. Stepping around the Lord he came to crouch beside her making her ask, “Where am I? I don’t know where this Loth place is. I’ve never heard of it.”

Legolas nodded saying, “There was a war, and your people used a book to travel here for safety for their children to escape that war. Queen Jaqi led the evacuation. Your people landed across our lands in groups, one in Rivendell and another in the Shire. Since then have granted protective barriers to the Elven lands of Rivendell and here in Lothlorien as well as the Greater Greenwood and the Dwarven kingdoms as well. You are safe here and once her aunt has arrived no doubt they will house you and young Corvus and explain things fully to your understanding.”

Leta nodded then looked to you, “You know her?” Legolas’ eyes narrowed a moment, “I kept seeing her there, in that place, bringing me flowers.” She shook her head, “But I died, I know it. Grindelwald killed me.” Hastily she wet her lips and reached out placing a hand on his forearm giving it a tight grip, “Did they win? Did they kill him? Grindelwald?”

Legolas, “I do not know, I apologize.”

 *

Just as soon as the drama with the spiders had occurred the masses of Wizarding Britain now stared at their fireplaces wide eyed in a wafting sea of feathers the spiders had exploded into now coating the rooms with all connected now green flaming fireplaces signaling the system was now linked. Somehow the system had given one last hyjinx before submitting to work again and through the volunteered group demonstrating that the system was functioning again by heading to the predestined location to return with signed notes. Each link would be checked thoroughly but for now as the feathers were being gathered up people calmed that finally the kerfuffles were a thing of the past and a bit of normalcy could be found again once the lines were open to the public.

An out of place bell from the front door had the trio of Malfoys facing one another before their House Elf returned stating, “An Elf to see you Madame.”

She nodded her head and looked to the tall blonde who bowed his head stating, “Queen Jaqi is in Lothlorien and has requested your assistance.”

“Ah,” she muttered.

And Draco said, “Probably best we all go. In case more feathers pop out.” Brushing a few more feathers off of her back as his father pulled a few from the top of her head.

With a few more feathers dropping off of them the trio followed the blonde back to the archways and through Lothlorien eyeing the gathered Elves speaking amongst themselves

Legolas’ head however turned seeing Orophin helping your relatives down the slick bank where Narcissa and Lucius’ lips parted. Narcissa however broke their silence stating, “Jaqi!” hurrying forward after Draco, who was looking you over.

Draco, “What happened to her?! More feathers, did the spiders explode out of your chimneys too?”

Elrond asked with eyes narrowing a moment, “Spiders?”

Celeborn, “Jaqi crossed these waters into Valinor, and resurfaced with her cousin Leta Lestrange and young Corvus.”

Lucius shifted on his feet looking the duo over then you again, “Huh…Interesting.”

Draco’s brows furrowed a moment, “Valinor, that’s your afterlife, place, right?”

Elrond answered, “Of sorts, yes, our Valar dwell there. If she was allowed there they must have called her.”

Narcissa walked around him joining Legolas, “Hello Leta, may I call you Leta?”

Leta nodded and wet her lips and accepted Legolas’ help to her feet and replied, “Your name is Narcissa?”

“Yes, my late sister married into your line, the Lestranges. Are you injured?”

“No, but they won’t tell me if Grindelwald is dead, if we won the war.”

Lucius, “That is a complicated answer. However, you may come with us and until Thesius can be contacted you are welcome to live with us.”

Leta, “Thesius escaped then? Last I saw him and Newt were facing off against Grindelwald.”

Narcissa, “Leta,” her hand extended to land on her shoulder, “It’s 1999,” dropping the wet witch’s jaw, “We don’t know how you ended up in Valinor, or how Jaqi was able to find you, but until we can have those questions answered it is late, we will fix you a warm bath and let you rest.”

Lucius’ eyes shifted to Corvus, “Would you be wanting custody of your brother?”

Leta wet her lips, “I-,”

Lucius, “Because if you don’t we would be more than glad to care for the boy in your stead, and offer you a home if need be. And we would contact Thesius-,”

Leta, “But, he’s, it’s been 50 years. How could he-,”

Draco said, “Technically Jaqi’s partners are over 14,000 years older than her, and there’s no spilled tea over that.” Her eyes twitched larger a moment, “Yup, big gap, but for Elves that’s like, mid adulthood range, so she’s not that much younger, maturity-wise. I mean you at least got to have tea with him. He never got married, still mad about you.” Her eyes sank and he added, “Think it over, at least.”

Her lips parted for her to nip at one and he continued, “But, good news, we landed in these lands and now we’re sort of Elves now. And a lot of people have been de-aging, including Theseus and Newt, they only looked to be about 50-ish back home, but now they are late 30’s at best, so, you can still get married if you like…”

Leta, “What happened-,”

Lucius replied, “Grindelwald was imprisoned years after your death, Newt aided in his fall along with Dumbledore. After him another Wizard rose to power, Tom Riddle Jr, who our niece Jaqi killed. There were more factions that rose up in his death, whom Grindelwald aided in their destruction to cover our escape.”

Leta’s brows furrowed, “Why would he help you? Or anyone?!”

Narcissa, “Because we had thousands of children from those who were trying to fight, say what you will about his nature and affinity for destruction and torture but he never touched children. Either matter, now they are in our old world and we are starting over here in this one. We don’t know if he’s dead or not, but we’re safe. You are safe, your brother will be too.”

She looked to Corvus in Arwen’s arms cooing in his hand tapping her chin luring out her grin at the boy. She nodded and glanced at your relatives saying, “I do not believe it best I raise Corvus, for obvious reasons.”

Lucius nodded, “Of course.”

Leta asked, “He will be taught well?”

Narcissa nodded, “Yes as I said, my late sister married into your father’s line, we also are part of the Sacred 28, I am from the Black Family and Lucius from the Malfoys. He will be well looked after, given the best foot up.” Making Leta nod again.

Narcissa approached collecting the boy and offering a hand to Leta, “We’ll mind him, you focus on mending,” her eyes shifted to Leta, who eased her hand into your aunt’s, “We’ll get you comfy and cozy with some tea and start slow with what you’ve missed in landing here. World’s changed, so many new things to learn.”

Lucius looked to Legolas asking, “I take it you would want to patch Jaqi up?”

Legolas replied, “Our Healers would be grateful to aid in her wounds. They do seem minor, though numerous.”

Draco smirked drawing his wand drying you and changing your clothes to a fresh pair of shorts and a baggy tank top cut from one of your father’s old t shirts. “Be sure to have some fresh fruit by her when she wakes up, she smells like blueberries, not fond of blueberries. Someone must have hit her with a knockout cloud to sleep like this. See you at the zoo tomorrow. We can hear about this all then.”

Summoning your door to shorten the trip while Lucius accepted hold of Corvus saying with a grin, “We’re going home young lad we’ll get you a nice warm bottle. I think you’ll love your new room, and in a few months you’ll have a baby sister to share it with.”

Looking to Celeborn Legolas said, “I will take Naneth home to our Healers.”

Celeborn chuckled and said, “If you do not mind I shall carry her, due to her tight grip on my wrap.”

Tenderly you were laid out across a plushy cot in the Healing Wing where a team of Elleths got to fetching herbs, oils and creams to tentatively spread across your exposed skin. Your hands coated in everything were wrapped in towels as word through a series of servants had the King and Glorfindel sliding through the entrance approaching the visiting Lord who shared all he knew. Which wasn’t much but inspecting the lingering glow to your skin and hair under the dull bruises and scrapes they could tell you went through a struggle.

Celeborn, “For now, she has been urged to sleep. We might ask once she has awoken. Though young Draco did mention in their home spiders had exploded into feathers, Lothlorien also is now coated in feathers.”

Glorfindel replied, “The lands I awoke in were coated in feathers as well. Manwe ordered my return.”

Thranduil asked as he stroked his fingertips along the side of your bloody bruised stomach an Elleth had revealed to coat it with creams, “What purpose could calling Jaqi to Valinor serve?”

Celeborn, “I was informed it seemed like she was following something. Though nothing was spotted, and she did seem to be blind to it, Orophin had guessed a voice perhaps.”

Legolas looked you over again, “To be called and face such wounds…”

A sigh from you lured their eyes back to you only to watch you mutter in Valinorean, “Can’t you hear them singing.”

Eyes narrowed on the Lords around you and Celeborn asked, “Who is singing?”

Again you sighed out, “The stars.” That parted their lips only for them to all inhale sharply when you muttered, “Dancing with Telperion, Laurelin.”

Thranduil, “You can see the Two Trees?”

“They were so heavy, so heavy, and far,” Their eyes shifted to the base of your bed that at the shift of a finger had vines of bluebells and forget me nots spreading up, your voice faded off as you muttered, “Let the shadow’s fool try me now.”

On the breeze a strong waft of green apples flowed through the kingdom in your breaths deepening making Glorfindel mutter, “Shadow’s fool,”

Celeborn stated after a glance at Thranduil and Glorfindel, “They reminded her,”

Legolas, “Of what?”

Celeborn, “Who she is.” His eyes shifted to you again, “Pluto, their Precious Pluto.”

Legolas gawked at you in the soaking of your name through the group, each knowing their own tales of the formidable pupil of the Masters of Spirits. The one Morgoth knew to kill first before striking at the other Valar. Each opening bloom on the vines around you releasing its own glimmer of light that seeped into your skin healing your injuries in the start of the forest beginning to sing a deep song in their dancing under significantly brighter stars luring all conscious Elves to come out and admire them.

Thranduil stated, “Now that her wounds are healed, we should return her to bed.” Carefully draping your arms across your now covered and healed middle, underneath you his arms eased and against his chest he lifted you.

Glorfindel stated, “Truly, if that is a call to arms-,”

Celeborn, “The scent of apples is a warning-,”

Thranduil turned stating firmly, “I am aware of that. When the fool returns we will be ready.” The Lords followed as he continued, “For now, our Queen is resting.”

Legolas, “I am not concerned,” he stated causing them in the hall to glance at him, “For the ease she destroyed the One Ring, and all those lands her kin have cleansed. Truly any sent after her is no match.”

Continuing on Celeborn replied, “No, not if she has been carrying the Two Trees with her all this time.”

Into bed you were placed and around the dining room table his meeting was moved while Glorfindel laid down beside you smoothing his fingers through your hair, each stroke of his fingers stirring up glimmers of starlight between your now deep silver curls while your past life played in your dreams.

.

Half an hour before your waking while Glorfindel handled the waking, dressing and prepping of the boys for breakfast Thranduil laid out beside you stroking your cheek feeling a difference in your strength already. The once untapped strength now free flowing without a block from your severed link to your past life you would start to slowly remember over time. Though in the signs that you were stirring to his gentle touch his smirk ghosted out remembering your goodbye the night before and his promise on how to wake you up.

At your deep inhale he leaned in to kiss your forehead, “Dew drop,” you sighed it out and a smirk ghosted across his lips.

“Are you awake?” he asked in your arm shifting and fingers tapping against his chin, the contact causing his eyes to droop in the tilt of your head allowing your lips to ghost against his. Leaning in his lips planted on yours forcing your fingers more across his cheek and into his hair. Around his neck your arms draped in the deepening of the kiss luring him to ease more on top of you, a move easier had there not been a comforter between you.

A pause for air from him had you smacking your lips and asking, “Blueberries.”

Thranduil’s brows inched up and he stated, “Yes, Draco did mention to have fruit waiting for you when you awoke.”

“Draco, how was he? I must have fallen asleep.”

“Yes, it is common for those who return from Valinor to be forced to sleep. Draco was well I hear, curious for what you faced, asked if spiders had exploded into feathers. I hear your Aunt has taken custody of Corvus and someone named Thesius is being contacted for Leta to meet. His marital status was relevant.”

“Thesius is Newt’s brother, they were engaged when she died. I’m glad they took Corvus in. No doubt Lucius is having baby fever readying for baby number two. Spiders, they mentioned spiders?”

“Rumil went to fetch them at your request and stated their home was coated in feathers, something about their fireplaces. But he was specific on spiders exploding into feathers.”

“I must have broken the block somehow. There were so many spiders and no one could see them until I got there.”

Thranduil stated, “Perhaps it best to wait on the full explanation until we are all at the zoo. All the Lords will be there, and we are all curious to hear what you faced in your travels to Valinor.”

“I kind of think I used to be someone very important.”

Again he smirked leaning in to steal another kiss then sweetly hummed, “I know.”

“You know?”

“None can claim a name of a Maiar or Valar for their child without their Fea taking hold of their body. Even Durin the Deathless cannot be named again all the same. To be named after stars or celestial beings is something sacred and allowed rarely. You seem to be taking this well.”

“We learn about past lives in Divinations courses. It isn’t that hard to believe. Though I can’t get any hints of one from you.”

“Because this is my first life. Rarely do we return with different names.”

For a moment your grin flinched and your fingers stroked his cheek, “Were you happy?”

Concern flooded into his gaze as he asked, “When?”

“Before I landed here. Even when you were just in my dreams staring blankly I hoped you were happy.”

“We had each other. Not nearly as happy as we are now, however, there were moments of joy in our exhaustion.”

Over his eyebrows your finger traced making him smirk again, “No wonder these were locked so low.”

Sliding off the bed he murmured, “For now, breakfast, then we can talk about my expression.” Scooping you up he carried your smirking self to the dining room.

The boys smiled at you as you settled into your chair and Legolas helped to bring the food over asking, “Did you rest well, Naneth?”

“Seems like it. You?”

“I did not sleep. Made a round on guard it seems feathers have been blowing from Lothlorien since last night. Their artists are gathering up as many as they can, a few of ours have been utilizing the chance to as well.” Leaning in Glorfindel stole a kiss on your cheek taking the seat beside you. “I would assume your artists are utilizing it as well, Draco did mention an explosion of feathers.”

“Feathers are always useful. Art or otherwise.”

All three boys seemed to explode with questions on how the zoo would be while Legolas and the pair seated near you seemed to be ghosting around the question they wished to be answered as to what happened last night. “Here,” You said after blowing out a marble with swirling clouds inside of it the trio eyed as you went to change in Taule helping the trio to keep distracted for a few minutes by looking at the pictures and plushies you had brought. Lords Elrond and Celeborn came with their children who all circled the trio still inspecting your marble. Staring at the now floating marble lifted from Glorfindel’s palm then let out a blink of light warning them to a mist filling their vision that wafted into the memory of you settled on the bed in Thranduil’s room when you first heard the voice calling you.

Moment by moment they were pulled along with you open mouthed staring at all you had endured and seen. The memory faded with your slump to Celeborn’s chest muttering about blueberries and the trio glanced at one another unable to even think of what to say only to look to you when you came back in jeans and a layered flowing floral tank top tied with a sash under on open cardigan with comfy heeled boots. “Answer your questions?” Em was still waking up after her own breakfast settled in a comfy shirt and plants matching the colors of yours.

Glorfindel, “And adds a few more.” Making you smirk. The boys hurried in and Legolas lifted Estel to his hip while Thranduil and Glorfindel lifted one each of the twins and followed you and Legolas back through your doorway to your home.

Through the halls you guided them to the front entrance to take them out of Grimmauld Place with Legolas asking, “Will we be taking the train as well? I do not have papers.”

Smirking up at him you said, “Now that the Flue System is repaired I can take you through our London entrance in Grimmauld Place. See, the house itself is hidden but our family has vast properties to our name, including one in the heart of London, England. We will have to take the Knight Bus though.” For a moment they paused eyeing the flat you had just walked out of so far from the house they knew it was linked to and they turned as you did in the slide of the buildings together again. “It’s enchanted to hide from Muggles.”

Jostling didn’t come close to describing the ride the men sat wide eyed through while you, Em and the boys giggled at sliding back and forth with Celeborn grateful for your anchoring bubble to keep his chair in place as he held Tin leaving the other chairs sliding around his. Slowly they adjusted to the odd way of traveling until you led the group to stand and exit wondering what was next. It was puzzling to say the least how so many things in your Wizarding world was both amazing and nonsensical at the same time, seemingly free but so regimented to laws that had been so harsh to nearly rob you of your freedom.

On the curb you guided the men down the street through people milling by eyeing the tall men behind you with scattered forced grins at the lot of you all the way to the press surrounded zoo. Gasps came from the boys and after the small speech from the Prime Minister, who smirked at you remembering your being banished from England, a fact now wiped from the Queen’s mind and all record with it, later and you were allowed in. Each Lord around you along with a small group of Durins that Hermione had brought here through your doorway she’d called was introduced to and greeted by the Prime minister and pair of young teen Princes glad to be out of Buckingham Palace for the first time since settling. The young pair of royals drew curious subtle glances from the group wondering why you and Hermione both curtsied even in your place representing Remus at this occasion and buffering in the first meeting of new leaders of the kingdoms around those you had saved.

Just hours, exhibit by exhibit every animal through the protective barriers you witnessed their free roaming animals now happier in the magical near endless lands or waters to call their own. Every fact cherished and with floating magical camera following orders from the boys and men to capture certain moments they wished to keep.

.

By dinner you were back to your home for them to share all you had seen and let the Lords conference on your memory of Valinor. Every moment scrutinized for details on what the returned had missed with questions between on how long the spiders had descended there as well.

Curiously following a gentle tug you came to one of the larger spare rooms in one of the lesser used wings and pressing your ear to the door you could hear Opal inside making you smirk knowing why she’d moved here. Gently you knocked and a half hearted growl came through the wood making you say, “Opal, it’s Jaqi. I just wanted to ask if you’re in any pain.”

Through the wood you could tell the bristles behind her ears and eyebrows had shifted in a small recoil of her head snapping for a moment out of her protective mindset. “Iron said sometimes females have cramps with laying their clutches. I assume this is the nest you’ve chosen and I won’t force myself in if I am not welcome.”

“I am not in any pain. You are always welcome.” Timidly you eased the doorknob to turn and peeked inside seeing her sideways cocked head with both bright eyes fixed on you. Since your last session had fully healed her left eye and nearly fully healed the right that seemed to her to be growing clearer by the day with your Pheonix candies now working to heal the minor cataract like affliction to her lighter eye. “I have three eggs.”

A smile split across your face in her tail easing out to scoop you inside and bump the door shut again bringing you closer but still not right up to her nest in the room heated by the pile of wood and hot fire she kept lit to keep her eggs warm. “That is amazing. Three babies. I am so happy for you.” You said stroking her muzzle as her forehead pressed to yours. “Would you like me to tell Iron?”

She gave a nod and said, “He shall be pleased. I did not assume I might carry more than one egg from my injuries. Iron was eager all the same to aid in my clutch to grant me a chance.”

“Well you certainly made a great choice, and a great friend. I take it you might want to go to the breeding grounds then for a time?”

“No, males do not Mother the young for our kind. He shall meet them when they are just learning to fly, that is when his role begins.” Her eyes looked you over and she asked, “How are your mates?”

“They are well. Speaking with their friends about a trip I took through an enchanted pond of theirs. It seems I am still puzzling to them. Even myself occasionally.”

Lowly she chuckled and settled more around the trio of eggs on the mattress she’d pulled off the bed frame leaned up against the wall. “They will learn you. And their young seem to admire you as well. Such a large clutch for beginning a family.”

“Well I’ve never been one to follow the normal scheme of things, courting first then babies. You know me. Has to be as much juggling as possible.” She chuckled again and at the slight drop of her eyes you grinned saying, “I will let you sleep. You look exhausted. I’ll post a sign outside and let everyone know this is your nest.”

“Thank you, my dearest friend. Your kindness is the greatest treasure I have ever been graced with.”

Again you reached out to stroke her muzzle saying, “I feel very much the same Opal. Let me know if you need anything. Get some rest sweetheart.” The nickname making her smirk in her body coiling up around the trio of giant Opal like eggs as you made your way out again.

Across the door in various languages with a picture of Opal a sign spread the door to warn others in your turn to head through your enchanted door to find Iron, the Opaleye who had taken Opal as his mate. His excited roars and bounding around drew the Dragon Breeders over who joined in on his celebration with his family on his impressive three little ones to come. Far from the average dragon Opal was seen as far too timid to have been taken as a mate by all but Iron who could see the strength in enduring all she had faced and how powerful their little ones could be. A match that with time and now news of her very fertile status among her kind, who rarely had more than two eggs, had all the other breeds joining in on the celebrations as well. Each sending you home with tokens to hand over to the isolating mother to comfort her with their distant support until the hatching when she could introduce the triplets to them all.

Pt 34

[thetradeway]

Session 46: 3 Jul 2021: Has he tried being less of a malignant turd?

Gosh it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Sadly we are down a Grease Wizard again today; Sophie will puppet Gideon for Ed.

Next week, hopefully Matthew will be starting his own campaign for us - I will try to keep some notes, but I don’t expect they’ll be quite as comprehensive as they are for this one.

Right. Have we all taken rests, yes? Good. Well the good news is, after fighting the hydra, the sea-witch has escaped but the weather and the journey improve. The crew seem happier and we go a few days without incident. Ahleqs wants to feed Simon some lumps of hydra or shark, see if he likes that.

Kessler is trying to figure out water skis, and having another look at the schematics she took from the gnome tinker. We all notice there are religious symbols drawn on the tinker’s door in chalk that were not there before. Ardvack, the Right Ruddy Religious knows all about them - the gnome’s gone for basically every god in the pantheon. Just in case.

Kessler wants to make the invention the gnome was working on, and take it to show him her ‘new invention’. Does Waterdeep have IP laws?

She still can’t quite get it to work, however.

Adrvack goes and borrows the Captain’s teapot and and teas, and goes to visit Amelia. Tarragon heads to the kitchen for some cooking sherry with Lolo. Popcorn has put on some weight on the trip, and is snoring (and occasionally farting) in front of the stove.

Aegea climbs up to the crow’s nest with Melaina and points out some white cliffs ahead. She says that’s how the Sword Coast got its name - because from at sea, the cliffs look like swords. Melaina asks how long before we hit land; about two days.

Ahleqs goes to the poop deck to converse with Sparks about defensive spells when you’re running away; you know, important sorcerer business. Gideon is spending a lot of time with the two dwarves, drinking and carousing. He doesn’t seem to pitch in much with his job on the ship.

Is Carl still in one piece? How’s the sea air treating him? He is wandering around patting people on the shoulder and giving them thumbs ups. Team building. He might draw some new pictures.

Tarragon returns from the kitchens - as she passes, the door of the tinker’s room opens and she hears “Pssst!”

Has she noticed anything strange? “…In what way?” He looks uncertain. In an unnatural way. She asks him what he’s noticed. Has she had any unwelcome visitors in her room? “No! Have you?”

He says he’s probably said too much, and shuts the door. She knocks on it. “Are you in trouble? We’re here to look after the ship and guests, if there’s something bothering you, we might be able to help.”

He woke to a figure looming over him one night. He thinks it’s ‘one of those vampires’.

“Can you remember what he looked like?” Well, he nudges her conspiratorially, all those humans look the same right? “What makes you think it was a vampire?” He said he was. “Have you been tinkering with any chemicals, could you have ingested something that might give you squiffy dreams…?” He slams the door.

Next day the captain comes to each of us to say that we should reach Baldur’s Gate tomorrow. He doesn’t know why this voyage was so fraught with danger, but he’s glad we were here.

Ahleqs says he’s sorry the Captain seems to have been so unwell; he is feeling better now but thinks it was something he ate. Ardvack points out that Lolo has access to all the food; Tarragon tells him if there was poison in the kitchen, he (Ardvack) would be dead by now. He gives that some thought.

Tarragon asks Lolo if she knows of anything the Captain might have eaten; the night before the attack, he was eating with the paying guests. It was mostly finger foods, cheeses and wines and fruit that was brought straight up from the hold, it never went to the kitchens. Hmm.

Is there anything else we want to do before we get to Baldur’s Gate? Ahleqs wants to know what it was that weakened the Captain. He seems hung up on that. He and Sparks have been checking for residual magic after the sea witch’s departure. Sparks thinks the sea witch poisoned the Captain, since he is a renowned fighter and was rendered unable to help when the sahuagin attacked.

What about this vampire? Let’s see if there’s anyone tall and bitey. Kessler: “What if it’s someone small and bitey?” Ahleqs: “Well we’ll have to investigate at a lower level.”

We decide to try and convince the gnome to let us stake out his room, since we only have one night left on the ship. Kessler and Tarragon try a spot of persuasion. The gnome seems delighted to let us, since he won’t be getting much sleep anyway. He tells Tarragon he’ll have none of her cheek, however; she was very rude, suggesting he drinks his own chemicals. She bites her tongue while Ardvack sniggers and walks away.

Ahleqs stakes out the outside of the room in case something happens inside, then he can run and get someone stronger. Carl offers to sit with him; they can play cards. (They’ll have to explain the card game to Carl, as well as stop him eating the cards. Ardvack, explaining: "Every time he lifts the cards to his face you have to say, “Ah ah!”) Usha is going to sit with them as well, and join the card game.

Kessler makes another Tinker check as she works with the gnome on his invention, since they're both going to be up all night anyway, and rolls a 20. They crack it! He gives her a copy of his notes - it’s a tube that lights up when you twist it, and off when you twist it again. She’s learned how to make a Maglite.

Tarragon rolls a nat 20 for her Perception, but nothing happens at all while we watch. On the plus side our gnome friend has not been eaten. He hands Tarragon a gold piece as she leaves and says “Might I suggest a hairbrush.” She stares at him coldly, drops the coin on the floor and walks away.

Tarragon, to Kessler as they walk away: “This look is a choice, I’ve spent time on it…”

Amelia tells Ardvack to put the tea away; they’ll drink hers. Is there anything he wanted to talk about?

He blusters; he’s a little troubled. He’s out of place in this world. Can he be candid with her? “Are you capable?” Yes, when needs must.

He blurts out a load of stuff that none of the rest of us know about being sent to Candlekeep when he was little, parental issues, no friends, off-putting personality. The first adventure he went on was a disaster - a beholders lair, the thing was meant to be dead, they were taking notes when it attacked, Ardvack was turned to stone for 200 years, rescuer was killed in animal attack. Before he was a statue, he used to hear a divine voice - but since he returned he has heard nothing and is feeling very isolated. Is there a way he and Amelia can keep in touch, and perhaps she can advise him? He feels adrift in the world.

She listens patiently. They drink a lot of tea. She goes to her pack and says she mentioned before that she is an enchanter. She gives him a mirror; he can contact her through that over distance and they can talk . Not all the time, though. He thanks her. In the mean time, has he tried being less of a malignant turd?

He tells her about Blue Alley. Has she heard of it? She shakes her head. He tells her about the befuddlement and the poems; ever since then any effort on his part has been ‘poorly received’ so he stopped trying. Amelia asks, who did he write the poems to?

“Ugh. The gnome.”

She’s a very beautiful gnome, Amelia tells him. (Damn right.)

“But she’s a gnome!”

Amelia doesn’t think Tarragon would be keen to marry him, and tells him infatuation is normal. (Sophie describes Matthews’ expression for us; he looks horrified.) Amelia tells him to try gold or a flower next time. She also gives him a book titled ‘Basic Manners’, and tells him if she catches him going thorough anyone’s letters again she’ll have his hand off. “The word is nosy, and we’re all nosy, but we’re not all blatant.”

He promises not to abuse the mirror, and leaves her to her business, taking the book with him.

(He calls her immediately after he’s left. “I’m having problems again!”)

The following morning we arrive in the harbour of Baldur’s Gate; Ahleqs’ home. Are we going to meet his parents? Ahleqs flatly: “I think it’s safe to say that we are not.”

We are only passing through here. Gideon is waving a tankard around; Buckla gave it to him when he won a drinking contest. It doesn’t spill (magically) and he can use it as an improvised weapon.

Lolo thanks Tarragon for her help and says she would make an amazing sous chef. She gives Tarragon her ladle. Tarragon protests at first, but accepts it with her thanks. “Lolo, I will treasure it, thank you.”

Usha approaches us; can she still travel with us? Of course!

The Captain asks if we still want help finding someone to take us to Candlekeep; we’ll have to go by road. A merchant’s caravan, perhaps? We’ll be taking the Trade Way, it’ll be just like old times. Then we’ll take the Lion’s Way, which will take us to Candlekeep. We ask around at the docks for merchants travelling that way, with the Captain leading us. He introduces us to a human merchant.

Rirdun Gritsk is his name, and he has delicious calamari in his backpack. We offer him our protection in exchange for his taking us with him; the Captain recommends us personally. Rirdun agrees.

We’ve found the only squid merchant in Baldur’s Gate; this caravan is going to stink. (Actually he’s taking paper; the tentacles are his lunch.)

Ahleqs holds up his mouse cart and suggests we might make use of it. Rirdun, seeing only a tiny cart, pats him on the shoulder with a condescending look; Ahleqs shrugs and stashes the cart in his pocket for later. Kessler hurts Simon’s fuzzy little feelings by suggesting we hire horses.

Melaina, Tarragon and Ardvack make History checks. Ardvack rolls a 19. He knows that the Cloakwood we will pass is ancient and will contain druid circles and sentient trees. He shudders at Tarragon and says the place is ghastly and should be burned.

Tarragon, dead fucking serious: “If you so much as light a match, I will destroy you.” Fortunately we are only passing, not going through.

Ahleqs, Barometer of Bad, starts to get a nervous feeling in his stomach.

Unless he wants to see his folks or his old boss we can be off, however. He thinks not. "We’ve already had one exposition piece in this episode."

We’re eight days or so out. The first four pass uneventfully.

Tarragon thinks it won’t be long before she can ride Popcorn; he’s getting big now. She can sit and chatter with him as well. (She might tell him some of her thoughts about Ardvack, if she can do it in a language Ardvack doesn’t understand.)

Could Ardvack get a piggyback off Carl? Depends; how heavy is he, and will bits of Carl’s shoulders fall off? Ardvack changes his mind and tries to have a conversation with Kessler instead. She said previously that she wasn’t a goblin, he tries to find out what that actually means because we never revisited that.

The world’s a strange place, she tells him. She’s stuck in the form of a goblin, she isn’t *a* goblin. So… how come? As far as she knows, it’s a curse on her family line. Ardvack is familiar with the concept. Who by, how long ago?

Before she was born. What manner of curse? She doesn’t know, or won’t say. If she has the chance or the time she investigates to try and find out. So far not much luck. She asked her father, and he didn’t know either. Every now and then one of the line is born as a goblin, or some other creature.

Is she related to a Gladstone? No.

She asks him about Carl. Will he keep him going until he falls apart, or will he be allowed to rest? No, he has grand plans for Carl. He knows that’s wrong, right? Carl should be allowed to rest. Ardvack’s plan is to resurrect him. He doesn’t have the magical capability, but he’s looking for someone who does. The plan is to send Carl back to his family. He’s only been dead a month or so.

That kind of magic is expensive. Perhaps a good samaritan will step in, or he will learn a spell that can do what he’s trying to do. Carl can always start over. Ardvack made a promise to him. He looks fondly over at Carl. "I think there’s still something in there."

Kessler, unimpressed: “Yes. Worms.”

On the evening of the fourth day, the merchant tells us there’s a lake where we can camp, water the horse, wash clothes, bathe etc. Ardvack Prestidigitations himself; Tarragon rolls her eyes.

Tarragon does cooking duty. The lake is large, but not big enough to be on the map. We are in the equivalent month of July and the water of the lake is lovely and cool. Kessler sets up her Alarm spell. Ahleqs washes his outer clothes but wears his underthings to bathe; Tarragon doesn’t hesitate but strips off and leaps into the water.

Usha moves her bedroll inside Kessler’s Alarm spell. We take watches. Carl stands watch all night like Arnie in Terminator.

Tarragon rolls a 24 total for the cooking - we can have Advantage on two rolls in the next day. Ardvack refuses the food.

Usha and Ahleqs take first watch; she tells him all about her travels and the barbarian tribe. She wants to try to contact them again. The watch passes without event.

Melaina and Kessler roll Perception - Melaina gets 24. Joe changes to a battle map. Uh oh…

Melaina hears the horse, that has been resting, get up. It looks uneasy, and backs off further down the beach. She hears something moving on the lakeshore. Looking east, she can see - actually it’s not within her darkvision range. But she hears something move. The DM gives her a free turn.

Should she wake us? She uses her action to do that. Kessler kicks Ahleqs, and sets off her Alarm manually. Ahleqs does indeed scream when he wakes up, and that scream is the verbal part of the Mage Armour spell.

Tarragon is up first, with a natural 20 initiative. She moves a little closer and sees the edge of the thing; it’s big. She casts Greater Shldgljdfkajsdadabbllhh, and readies an attack. As soon as it’s within walloping distance, she will wallop it.

Kessler moves up next to Tarragon and takes a shot with her crossbow. (If it comes up “Kessler shoots at Tarrasque” Ahleqs is just going to start running.) Nat 20! Poke in the belly, triple damage. Tarragon fist-bumps her. Her second shot misses. She goes for higher ground, making a DEX check - 9, which is ‘good enough’.

Are we starting from prone since we just woke up, because Ardvack wants to know how far away he can run on his turn? No, because Melaina took her free turn to wake us so we had a chance to stand up before combat began.

Popcorn runs forward and sits on his back legs, roars at the thing and readies an attack.

An Assassin hits Ardvack out of nowhere for 17, which hits. He makes a CON save against the poison. Matthew, OOC: “Is that absolutely necessary?” Joe: “Absolutely vital.”

He fails, taking 8 piercing and 26 poison, as well as 14 sneak attack damage. What the fuhhhhh…

Whatever did that slips back into the shadows. It’s rolled a blinder of a stealth check. Ardvack looks down at the arrow and says “Oh. Um…”

Ahleqs is up. “Well this has changed things.” He finishes casting Mage Armour, and moves up next to Tarragon, believing her to be scarier than whatever is attacking.

Grease Wizard. Normally he would Grease something, that’s the go-to move. What was the trajectory of the arrow, Sophie wants to know? Which way is it pointing out of Ardvack? Ardvack makes an Insight check but rolls a 5; he can’t remember which way he was facing when he was hit. He notes that he might insta-die if that happens again.

Joe lets us know that he will put the assassin token on the map when it attacks; we are to watch our screens. If it rolls a good Stealth (above all our passive perceptions) it will disappear again.

Gideon Thunderwaves the scorpion - oh, so that’s what it is. Nope, because it’s too far away. Sophie goes for Magic Missile instead for 12 damage.

It’s Pinchy’s go. We are not fans of Pinchy. It moves towards us.

Gideon, seeing the thing bearing down on him: “It wasn’t me who sent the Magic Missile - you want the green one!”

It seizes him in one claw. 22 hits, Gideon takes 16 bludgeoning and is grappled. Pinchy reaches around with the other claw and tries to pinch a bit off the wizard to eat. 20 hits for 13 more damage. Finding the flesh a bit solid, he tries to tenderise the dwarf with a little sting. 6 piercing and a CON save, on which he has Advantage because he’s a dwarf. He rolls 14, making the save, halving it, and his dwarven Constitution halves it again to five. Phew.

Melaina is up. She can have sneak attack damage, and hides so she can get Advantage as well. 22 to hide.

Duncan, OOC and laughing: “Wind up that damage machine, get it tickin’ over nice.”

19 to hit. Nat 1 on Sharpshooter damage, which is still somehow 22. Plus 11 piercing. She hits it squarely in the carapace, and hears an audible crack. Something yellow starts to ooze up out of the wound.

Usha, seeing what Ahleqs did, lets out a shriek of her own. She looks around for the assassin but can’t see anything. She hides behind the tent and tries again to locate the assassin, but doesn’t roll high enough.

Ardvack and Melaina see the merchant’s head appear from the tent. He can’t see the scorpion. Still they hear, “nopenopenopenope” and he ties the tent shut.

Ardvack can’t think of anything clever to do. “Um… … … Right.” Oooh! He will summon Admiral Pancakes! (His owl familiar.) The Admiral splits his movement between running and flying but it’s all low to the ground and all furious.

Ardvack hunkers down near the tent and the cart - no, he’s lying down. He’s prone. He’s as low as you can get and has 9 HP left. He chugs a potion.

Carl is next. Did Carl notice where the arrow came from? He rolled really bad Perception. He rolls Insight to see if he can remember. A five; he doesn’t remember. He gets up and goes for the scorpion but can’t reach it. Also, he doesn’t have a mace any more.

Tarragon Rages and runs up to attack Pinchy Recklessly, doing only nine damage. Her scream of rage becomes a little uncertain. She shakes her Shilleblglhlskfgghj’ed quarterstaff. “Come on!!”

Kessler would like to whale on the assassin. Is there a way to look for them? It would take her turn to Investigate, but they will be placed on the map if she finds them. She can point them out to us, in other words. She decides against that. Is she above the scorpion now that she's scrambled up the terrain? She would be, but it’s really big. Could she jump onto it?

She gets the classic reply: “… You can certainly try."

She rolls Acrobatics and gets a 17 - she makes it onto its back. She punches it with her Thunder Gauntlets. (The way the tokens are arranged, it looks as though the scorpion has Kessler’s head.)

24 to hit! and 6 Thunder damage. She goes for another attack. (We all start singing Thundercats, but now it’s Thundergoblin.) She throws in Fury of the Small as well, yelling “Yeehaa!” as she does so. It’s looking damaged now. Mina: “Excellent.”

It’s Popcorn’s turn - he runs up, sees the scorpion is bigger than he thought, slashes at it and misses, and runs away. No Opportunity attack, as Kessler and Tarragon are in melee with it.

The assassin makes some attacks against Melaina. The others see the token, briefly, but Tarragon and Popcorn are facing the wrong way. Melaina uses her Uncanny Dodge on the second attack - she did not see the first as it went into her back. She fails her CON save taking 8 piercing, 30 poison and 14 sneak attack - and she’s down. Not insta-dead but out. The second attack doesn’t come, because the assassin moves to hit Ardvack with it instead.

18 hits him. (It’s not fun when the other team have assassins.) He makes a quick Perception check as the sword plunges into his sternum - he sees pointy ears and greyish skin. A drow? 7 piercing and 24 poison. He makes the CON save regardless.

It slurs into his ear - “in the name of the Lady of Loss” as he slips into unconsciousness. If he survives he can make a History check on that. His dying cry is “Carl! Save them!”

Ahleqs’s turn. He heard a yelp from Melaina and another one from somewhere behind him. He gets a bit closer - but not too much closer - to try and find the assassin. He has Advantage but must roll above a 24 (the assassin’s stealth roll). He rolls a 19. Dammit! He sees Usha absolutely petrified, and both Melaina and Ardvack down and bleeding heavily in the flickering firelight.

Gideon is up - he’s still grappled. He can hit Pinchy with a spell but will likely hit Kessler as well - we decide Ed and Gideon would probably be fine with that. Sophie decides to do as the Grease Wizard would. With a cry of “Unhand me foul beast!”, he casts Grease on himself, and the DM lets him make an attempt to break free at advantage on the same turn. He rolls an 8. Oh well. He remains Greased and can try again next turn.

It’s Pinchy’s turn. He drops Gideon and has a go at grabbing the creature on its back and the creature menacing it from the ground. It goes for a sting attack against Kessler - 18 misses. 11 also misses, but 18 hits Tarragon, who is grappled but halves the bludgeoning damage to 7 because of her rage. Pinchy doesn’t like the thing on its back so it moves, forcing a DEX save from Kessler to remain in place. She passes the save, clinging on as it moves.

Melaina passes her first death save with a 13. She doesn’t use the Advantage granted by Tarragon’s meal, yet.

Usha moves to have another look for the assassin, but can’t find it.

Charity makes a death save - a nat 1 - two failures.

Matthew, sounding slightly panicky: “It’s okay, it’s okay! I’ve got this under control!”

He doesn’t have advantage because he didn’t eat the meal; me, OOC: “That’s what you get for being petty.”

Carl’s turn. Can he do mouth to mouth? He can, but it’s gross. You don’t want him to do it. Carl is furious; a lot of the things that have been going on of late have been leaving him out. He will hit the scorpion with punches. Pinchy McScorpingtons dodges Carl’s 17 to attack. That upsets Carl.

Tarragon doesn’t bother to try to break free but attacks from where she is - and misses. She still has no idea that Charity and Melaina are both down.

The hero of the realm, Admiral Pancakes, enters the fray. He has advantage on Perception checks, so he might be able to find the assassin…? He rolls a 9. Oh well.

It’s down to Kessler. “Save the day!” She has another go at cracking the carapace of the scorpion open with her Thunder Gauntlets. “Put down the crazed druid!” 26 hits for 7 Thunder damage, and she goes for another one. 22 and 12 Thunder damage. It’s very damaged - she gets yellow gunk as splash back. “This is nothing; I’ve seen Gideon.”

Popcorn runs up and slashes it with his claws - he hits for 7 damage. It doesn’t die, so he backs off again. Carl pats him on the head.

The assassin makes another attack - against Usha, and 16 hits. He reveals himself, and Ahleqs sees him. Usha takes 7 piercing and 31 poison - it’s not quite an insta-death, but only by the skin of her knickers. She shrieks and drops like a sack of shit.

What’s Ahleqs’s Passive Perception? 13. The assassin rolls a 16 and is hidden again. But Ahleqs only needs to beat a 16 to spot him, and it’s his turn. He sees Charity on the ground with red bubbles coming out of his mouth. It’s probably not cherry hubba bubba, he decides. He kneels down next to him and administers his only healing potion. Charity regains consciousness, and 8 HP. He feels a bit less dead. Ahleqs: “Help!” He runs back; that’s all he’s got. Charity thanks him, bubbles of blood running down his chin.

Gideon is still heavily Greased, but has been dropped so he is free. He shoots a Scorching Ray at the scorpion, hoping he will miss Kessler as the spell has one target. He must roll for each Ray. Sophie, OOC: "So two on the scorpion and one on Kessler, yeah?"

Gideon shouts “Don’t worry, I’ll save you, goblin!” He does 7 fire damage. “You got in the way, goblin!” One of his attacks is a natural 1 so he rolls on the crit magic fail table. Where did that come from? If this attack deals cold, fire, force, lightning or thunder damage; an elemental (chosen by the DM) appears within 60 feet of you. It is hostile to all creatures. Joe picks water, as we’re next to a lake.

Greeeeeaaaaaat.

We need David Hasselhoff for this. Or Zoidberg…?

Joe has Sophie roll a d4, and whatever she rolls is however many rounds the elemental remains for. She rolls a 3. Well…

It’s Pinchy’s turn. Gideon was past his best, and Pinchy is still snackish. It makes a sting attack against Carl - 16 to hit. Well his AC is 9, so… yes? But he is immune to poison, so he only takes 8 piercing damage. It rakes a claw against Kessler and misses. It tightens its other claw around Tarragon - 22 definitely hits. 16 bludgeoning, which she halves to 8.

Melaina makes another death save - and rolls 17. Matthew: “If you roll a 20 you can come back with - ” Sophie, OOC, voice full of hope: “Super powers?” Matthew: “… One hit point.”

Admiral Pancakes perches on Gideon’s shoulder, and hoots aggressively into his face, but can’t do anything this turn.

Usha makes a death save.

It’s Charity’s turn - he wants to know who’s worse off out of Melaina and Usha, without giving away how alive he himself is, in case the assassin is watching. Sadly Ahleqs screamed aloud what he was doing as he fed Charity the potion, asking consent to do so. (Duncan makes a Henry Crabgrass reference; only I laugh.)

Charity carefully heals Melaina, flinching back from any retaliatory punches that might fly his way. He learned his lesson in the bar fight. He slams a potion and hunkers down again.

Carl does a punch. He punches. Or does he? No - Brother Carl disengages from the scorpion, and makes his way somewhere behind Tarragon so I don’t see where. He holds an attack in case the assassin shows up, at which point he will go full zombie and pull their face all the way off.

Tarragon hits again for 19 bludgeoning damage. “‘Ave that, you scaly fucker.” It’s still not dead! “How???”

As a free action, Joe has Kessler make a Perception check. She rolls an 8. Oh well. She wants this thing to die, so she aims another punch at the soft jelly bit inside where she cracked the carapace last round.

She rolls two nat 1s. Butterfingers. You lose your grip mid-swing and your weapon goes flying 1d4+1x5ft away in the direction of your target. She has gauntlets which can’t really come off so Joe rules that they malfunction. It doesn’t do any Thunder damage for the next round, it becomes bludgeoning instead. She does 6 damage; it’s haggard as all hell, but still up.

It’s Popcorn’s turn - he runs up to the elemental and slashes it with his claws. Not knowing he shouldn’t, he backs up and it takes an attack of opportunity against him - but it misses. He notices that his claws didn’t do as much damage as they should…

And we’ve still got an assassin that no-one’s fuckin’ touched. Speaking of - it attacks Tarragon and hits. She makes the CON save and halves the poison, and she’s raging so she halves the sneak and piercing damage as well. 21 total, bringing her down to 26 total HP.

It’s Ahleqs’ turn. He, being a character that is not optimised, casts Shatter on the elemental. Or he could Banish it, if he can come up with an item that is distasteful to it? Is there anything absorbent nearby, cotton or fleece - or a rag. Yeah! It fails the save and is Banished.

Grease Wizard is up. What’s he going to do… He does a Scorching Ray on the scorpion - all three hit, yay! He does 24 damage - How de do dis! Sophie: “He falls apart into a sort of flurry of little bits and bits of shell and Kessler ends up in the middle of it all stinky, wearing a little shell as a crown.”

We all make perception checks - All of us but Carl and Kessler hear a snarling in elvish (drow, specifically) which is mostly expletives. Those that can see, see a flash of darkness, like the opposite of a flash of light, for a moment and then gone. It looked to be a kind of magic, but the magic users don’t sense any disturbance in the Weave.

Ahleqs: “Was it like ‘ah, fuck it!’ *explosion*?” He rolls 18 Arcana. It was cursing us for murdering its pet. Ahleqs thinks it was a spell, but there was no associated disturbance. The assassin seems to have retreated, however.

Charity heals Usha; she is incredibly grateful. The merchant emerges from the tent. Kessler loots the scorpion, finding a couple of platinum pieces. Tarragon rolls 12 Perception - she sees a marking on the back of the scorpion’s head. She wipes away some goo and makes a Religion check.

It is a black sigil inside a purple ring - an emblem of Shar. Uh oh… Charity makes a Religion check as well, remembering what the assassin said to him (“In the name of the lady of loss”) but rolls a nat 1 for 2 total. He mutters out loud about it, but doesn’t make the connection. Kessler and Ahleqs roll good religion checks. Ahleqs, hearing Charity’s words, is terrified. That was a reference to Shar.

Joe wraps up there as it’s getting late. Before we finish though, we continue another four days travel and catch our first glimpse of Candlekeep…

Matthew will hopefully pick up next week with his new campaign! It bothers Mina greatly that he doesn’t want us to roll our own stats; this likely an intentional effect.

[orlissa]

Shadow of Night Read Along: Chapter 2

Still in the morning, Diana meets Henry Percy, the Earl of Northumberland, who is beyond happy and excited by Matthew having married. Soon after Sir Walter Raleigh—irritated by the queen’s treatment of him—arrives as well, although he proves to be way more wary of Diana than Henry. All of them moving to the parlor, Matthew tells his friends the truth: that his wife is a witch from the future who uncovered a mythical book and now is in need of their help. Kit keeps making jealous, slighted quips, but Raleigh keeps silencing him with pointed remarks. In the end Raleigh—Matthew’s equal in temper and authority—is won over, which means that now the whole group is ready to do whatever it takes to help Diana. An agreement is reached that she’ll need clothes, a woman to teach her how behave in a way to blend in, and a witch, to teach her magic.

Notes

Okay, technically speaking, Diana using “stays” and “corsets” interchangeably is incorrect. They’re not the same, nor do they serve *exactly* the same purpose. Here’s some background info on that. However, Diana might get a pass for simply being out of time and not being an expert on fashion history.

Also, here’s a video on how Elizabethan clothes actually looked like. This is a bit out of date--the video depicts fashion from 1570-1580--, but at this point Diana is wearing Louisa’s old clothes, so technically, it could be accurate.

I’d die for Hal. He’s literally friend-shaped.

I love how Walter is wary of Diana—and of Matthew because of her—, but at the same time he also keeps reminding Kit about his place. He truly is Matthew’s equal in standing and authority.

Diana notes that she is wearing the clothes that Lousia wore for Jane Seymour’s funeral (albeit with Pierre’s jacket). Either she is exaggerating, or her current clothes are about fifty years out of fashion.

Matthew says that he is going to show Diana HER house. Which is technically true, since he signed it over to her in the 21st century. BTW, I would have loved to see if and when Amira was informed about the change of ownership.

Favorite quote:

(After Raleigh implied that Diana must be Henry’s lover)

“The Earl of Northumberland rested his toasting fork on the hearth and considered his friend. He shook his head and returned to his work. ‘Go out, come in again, and ask Matt for his news. And look contrite when you do it.’”

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty Seven

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

Roman reluctantly climbed off the bed with Damien and left the bedroom. To his mild surprise, both his mother and Damien’s parents were waiting right around the corner. His mind froze. He had hoped he would have more time to think this through. But no, he had to answer now, apparently, and he had no words to explain his actions.

He was. So screwed.

Damien intertwined his hand with Roman’s and Roman took a breath. He wasn’t going to speak until spoken to, if only to buy him a few more seconds to think.

His mother barely gave him half of a single second. “Have you nothing to say for yourself, Veronica?” she seethed.

Roman just stared at his mother blankly and shrugged. “Nope,” he said.

“Stop being cute, Veronica, it’s not a good look on you,” his mother hissed. “I demand an explanation!”

“I told you I’m not speaking to you until you apologize to Damien. That is all I will say until you apologize,” Roman insisted.

“I will not apologize for saying the truth!” his mother growled.

“And yet you want Roman to apologize for being himself?” Damien mumbled next to Roman, and Roman snorted.

“Damien, don’t be ridiculous. To say there was never any sort of double-standard in my family would be a blatant lie,” Roman responded, smirking at Damien as his mother grew red.

“Veronica, pack your things,” his mother growled. “We’re leaving.”

“You wait just a minute, Diana,” the Queen said, ice in her voice. “You were so desperate to marry your child off that you threatened war. You’ve been nothing but antagonistic towards both your own child and ours. I will not allow you to simply return to your country to lick your wounds because you don’t like that our son refuses to be pushed around like you’re used to. You put everyone here through hell to accommodate your wishes. If you choose to force your way back home, then my husband and I will go public with what you threatened us with in order to agree to this. You think you have a PR nightmare at home now? That will be nothing compared to what you have on your hands after today. This wedding will occur, whether you like it or not, unless you’d rather your country hold an uprising knowing everything that you and your husband threatened us with?”

Roman’s jaw dropped open as his mother sputtered and tried to come up with an explanation. None came out of her mouth.

The Queen turned to Roman. “My dear, would you rather be known as Roman or Veronica?”

Roman’s heart leapt into his throat. “Sorry?” he asked.

“Your mother has been forcing you to be someone you’re not for too long. If you wish to go by Roman, we will respect that.”

Damien squeezed Roman’s hand next to him and Roman took a shuddery breath, tears coming to his eyes. “I...” he knew what he had to do if he wanted his mother even remotely cooperative. But the King and the Queen were giving him an out, a guaranteed wedding. He never thought he might want that, and yet, here he was. “I...don’t know.”

The Queen tilted her head to the side. “You don’t have to be anyone you’re not, sweetheart, it’s fine.”

“I...I know. I know that.” Roman took a breath. “It’s just...when I wanted to go by Roman. It was an experiment. It was all an experiment, to see how I would feel as the opposite gender. I had felt like a boy for years, true, but...but I still didn’t know if presenting as male would ring more true than presenting as female. I pushed back against my mother, because I wanted the freedom to experiment. But...I still...don’t know.”

The tears slipping down Roman’s cheeks as he spoke those words were real. It broke his heart that he had to play the part of the confused child when his opportunity to be himself was right there. But if he wanted Remus at the wedding, if he wanted continued contact with his friends, if he wanted to see anyone at home again, he had to play into this, just a while longer. “I thought...I thought I knew,” Roman said. “I thought I was sure when I pushed back. I wanted the freedom to experiment, and I wanted that freedom to be myself, whoever that was. But as this week continues...I don’t know. I don’t know who I am.”

The Queen looked him over. Damien was giving him glances. His mother was still red in the face. “Part of me...part of me wants to be Roman,” he said. “But there’s another part of me that I find difficult to explain. And I want to figure out what that part is as well. I want to know all of me, as best I can, before I make this decision.”

“Of course,” the Queen said, relaxing a fraction. “Still, we must call you something.”

Roman nodded. “You can call me Roman,” he said. “I still want to experiment. To see if it sits right. Give me twenty-four hours as Roman, and I’ll have a decision for you tomorrow afternoon. I just...I just need time.”

“We can do that,” the Queen said with a smile. “Now. As for you two running off...”

Roman and Damien got double-teamed by the King and Queen, talking about how they were scared to death and if they needed time alone, all they had to do in the future was to ask for it, but to never run off like that again. Roman nodded to all of it, and Damien just stood there, agreeing softly at the end. Roman’s mother said nothing the entire time, simply glaring at Roman, and Roman pretended that she wasn’t even there.

When they were ordered to go downstairs and grab something to eat before meeting with the dignitaries, Damien sighed once they were out of their parents’ earshot. “You put on a very convincing act, Roman, I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Roman said. “Your parents know it’s an act, I assume?”

“My mother caught on, for certain,” Damien said. “And she can clue my father in.”

Roman nodded. “My mother will expect me to go by my deadname around the dignitaries.”

Damien grimaced. “I don’t suppose that simply not correcting them if they call you either name is acceptable?”

“Not to her. But maybe we could play it off for the sake of the ‘experiment,’” Roman mused.

“And I assume at the end of the ‘experiment’ you’ll allow your mother to deadname you?” Damien asked.

“Lull her into a false sense of security, and then when the wedding comes, be my true self. It’ll keep her quiet until the wedding itself, at the very least,” Roman said. “And it will guarantee that Remus is there.”

Damien nodded. “I don’t like it, but I understand,” he sighed.

Roman laughed a little. “You’re so protective,” he said. “I think it’s a little funny, especially when I’ve been able to handle myself this long.”

“My mother just stepped in to save both of our hides,” Damien pointed out.

“Would she have done that if I hadn’t won her over with my charming smile and good looks?” Roman teased.

“Yes,” Damien said.

“Oh.” Roman considered this new information. “Well, whatever. Minimal interference does not refute the fact I can handle myself.”

“You keep telling yourself that, my love,” Damien laughed.

Roman stuck his tongue out at Damien and Damien did it back with a laugh. They walked into the kitchen and Patton just about shrieked in surprise. “Boys! Where have you been?!”

“Roman’s room,” Damien replied. “Their Majesties already tore into us, no need to call them.”

Patton gave Damien a side-eye. “You remember the first time you lied to me Damien?” he asked.

“We were six, and I said I had worn heelies before and so you didn’t have to worry when we raced around the castle,” Damien said.

“You nearly cracked your skull open when you fell down the stairs and I sobbed so hard I nearly puked because I thought you were dead. And since then I’ve never been able to completely trust you about anything except your inability to cook,” Patton said. “Did you two really get chewed out?”

“Yes, we did,” Roman sighed. “And I got permission to go by Roman for twenty-four hours because my mom was being a witch-with-a-b. But heelies? Do tell.”

“Nothing much else to tell about it,” Patton laughed. “My mom was the head cook before me and I had off school. That happened. You get to go by your name for twenty four hours?”

“As part of an experiment,” Roman agreed. “It’s going to be interesting trying to convince everyone that I didn’t like it enough to continue afterwards, but I get gender euphoria for twenty-four hours.”

“Hey, congrats!” Patton exclaimed, grinning. “That has to be a fantastic feeling.”

“It does feel pretty nice,” Roman said with a shy grin.

“So, Roman,” Patton said with a pointed grin, “Anything I can get you and Damien?”

“Anything that’s filling is fine by me,” Roman said with a shrug. “Damien?”

“I’m not picky, I’m just hungry,” Damien said simply.

“Something fast and filling, got it,” Patton laughed.

A dignitary Roman didn’t recognize walked into the room and snorted. “I knew I’d find you here eventually, Damien!” he said. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m fine, Max,” Damien responded. “Have you met my fiancé, Roman?”

“Never had the pleasure,” Max said, walking over and shaking Roman’s hand.

Roman smiled at Max and said, “I assume you have, however, seen my mother?”

“Yes, she was fuming after what she referred to as your ‘little stunt’ and I must say, anyone who can irritate someone that uptight is a friend in my book.”

Roman laughed. “Uptight is certainly a...kind word for her. I prefer ‘control freak,’ among others.”

“Transphobic, cruel, stubborn, and abusive are what I favor for her,” Damien said simply.

“Jesus, don’t do anything by halves, do you?” Roman asked.

“Not when it comes to this particular topic, I’m afraid,” Damien said with a small and pained smile.

Roman scratched the back of his neck. “Just don’t let her hear you say that and you should be fine. She pokes fights with everyone, anyone who knows her won’t be surprised if she snarls at you.”

Damien made a discontented noise. “I now understand why the diplomats from your country are recorded as some of the kindest and most patient in all the world. And I have to say, that if this is what they have to put up with daily, it’s a surprise any of them make it through the training process.”

Roman laughed and Max winced in sympathy. “Yeah, Her Majesty can certainly be a piece of work,” Max mumbled. “Don’t tell her I said that, of course.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Roman assured. “Especially when I know exactly what you have to go through around her when she likes you on a good day.”

Patton came over with food for Roman and Damien and both of them made quick work of it, chatting with Max in between bites. When they had both finished lunch, they shared a look. “I’m not ready to go out to all the other dignitaries,” Roman groaned. “I’m tired, and I want a break from the wedding and the performance around it.”

“I know, my love,” Damien said, kissing Roman’s knuckles. “But I won’t make you go through this alone, if it’s any consolation.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s nice, but the fact remains that this will be a highly draining act, explaining everything that is going on.”

“I can help explain a few things, if you’d like?” Max offered. “Go to the little groups around the room and chat with them before they get to you?”

“You’d do that?” Roman asked, relief evident in his voice.

“Of course,” Max said. “I probably can’t get every group, but I know enough people to know who to talk to about it, and the rest of the room will hear the gossip soon enough.”

“Nice,” Roman said. “I’d appreciate that.”

Max offered Roman a smile. “Shall we get to the ballroom, then? Everyone is waiting for the both of you.”

“Let’s get it over with,” Damien said, linking his hand in Roman’s.

Roman walked side-by-side with Damien as they entered the room, and Roman shuffled a little closer as nearly everyone turned to look at them. “I found Their Highnesses in the kitchen!” Max exclaimed with a little laugh. “Try not to flood them!”

Roman put on his best polite smile and Damien stood next to him, looking relaxed but somewhat resigned. Immediately, the closest group to the door came over and dragged them into a conversation about the wedding. What they planned to wear, and oh, wasn’t it exciting, and what was their first dance going to be? Roman responded with answers that ranged from, “Yes, I suppose it’s rather exciting,” to “I want to leave the details of the wedding to be a surprise.” Damien was similar, trying to deflect any questions specifically about Roman’s dress, and anything that spoke about “the bride.”

Dysphoria stabbed Roman in the chest every time someone said that, but still he smiled and responded politely. They didn’t get a word in edgewise with the first group, and couldn’t explain that Roman was going by Roman for the day. The second group, though, Max had spoken to, and it was a breath of fresh air when someone asked, “So, how are the grooms-to-be faring?”

Roman laughed, beaming and honestly answering, “We’ve been all right,” as Damien smiled at the dignitary who had asked the question.

The conversations were about things that Roman didn’t find important, for the most part, but he was able to answer them honestly and openly, seeing as how his mother currently was not in the room. Damien, again, deflected prying questions about Roman’s gender and anything related to the reveal at the wedding. Roman squeezed Damien’s hand as they were let go to another group. “What was that for?” Damien asked.

“For being willing to help dodge questions about the wedding day,” Roman said with a small smile. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, my love, it wouldn’t do for the surprise to be spoiled,” Damien responded.

“A surprise?” a dignitary asked. “What sort of surprise?”

“A secret surprise,” Damien replied simply. “And no, you will not get either of us revealing anything more about it.”

Conversation became a bit more prying after that, but Roman and Damien didn’t give anything up. They talked, they laughed, and never once did they let go of each other’s hands. Their parents walked into the room at some point, which Damien pointed out by mumbling, “The Dragon Witch has entered.”

Roman took an inconspicuous look around the room and spotted her and Damien’s parents talking with a few other people. “Great,” Roman sighed.

“Don’t worry, we can get through this,” Damien said, voice holding a lot more confidence than Roman felt.

The afternoon went on slowly, everyone’s shadows slowly creeping longer and longer, until the sun was definitely setting. Roman and Damien went through the last group of dignitaries and both of them sat down in a corner of the room with a sigh. “This is so hard,” Roman sighed. “I know my mother caught me smiling a couple times when people called me Roman. How do I know if she’s going to buy my story tomorrow, asking to go back to Veronica?”

“She’s desperate enough to not question it too much, I think,” Damien murmured back. “I mean, she shouldn’t be, but she is. I can’t wait for that world to crash around her, and real life to kick her in the face.”

“That would be great,” Roman snorted. “I doubt it would happen, but it’s nice to dream...”

“It will happen, if for no other reason than because I will ensure it happens,” Damien said. “I’ve put up with too much from her to not gloat.”

“Fair enough,” Roman laughed, resting his head on Damien’s shoulder.

Damien kissed Roman’s head and murmured, “Do you think we can be affectionate around your mother while you’re performing this little ‘experiment’?”

“I don’t know,” Roman admitted. “She’s quite obviously homophobic. I think if we’re affectionate she’ll try to brush it off. She’s realizing that scolding me doesn’t have much of an effect on my behavior here, and she can’t take away my phone; I won’t let her do that again. So we can do as we please within reason. Eventually, she’ll find a threshold where being at risk of a PR disaster is worth it if I’m in her grasp again, so we’d have to tread lightly on the bigger stuff, but I think just being close, like this, sitting together, isn’t as big of a deal.”

“So what I’m hearing is that I won’t get to kiss you for the next twenty four hours,” Damien sighed.

“Sadly,” Roman agreed. “If we did that, she would instantly freak out and drag me home by my ear.”

Damien winced. “She’s a horrible woman.”

“She is,” Roman agreed softly. “Don’t tell her that I said that.”

“Of course not,” Damien said. “Everyone knows that men are the only ones who are allowed opinions anyway.”

“Hey!” Roman exclaimed, a fraction of a decibel too loud, as some people looked over at them. “I’ll have you know that I am a man. A manly man. A man who is manly!”

“Of course you are,” Damien said. “I was trying to play off a joke from your mother’s flawed logic. Was it not funny?”

“Strikes a little too close to home,” Roman said, lips pressed into a thin line.

“My apologies, in that case,” Damien said.

They turned to look at the crowd in the ballroom and lapsed into silence. “Dinner is going to be a trial,” Damien sighed. “Not everyone here will be staying for dinner, but enough people will be that we cannot escape the horrors that are small talk and wedding planning.”

Roman laughed. “I’m not looking forward to it either,” he admitted. “At least your descriptions of everything are funny, though.”

“Well, good, I’m glad,” Damien said, puffing out his chest a little and preening under the praise.

“And I think dinner will be at least somewhat bearable,” Roman said.

“Oh? And why would that be?” Damien asked.

Roman squeezed their intertwined hands and smiled. “Because we’ll be going through it together.”

Tag List: @lunareclipse-13@sanders-sides-crofters@blushy-gigglee-mess@wannacrymetoo@kaytikitty@magicalspacepanunicorn@bootsinthesun@pricklyfish777@flowersanddinosaurs@leiasolo77@birdybabybird@enby-phoenix@luna--28@justagaygoose@the-prince-and-the-emo@fandomsandanythingelse@randommuffinyt@snekky-boi@thesoftestlittlepuffballwegot@twilight-trix@abby5577@escalatingtoofast@friendlyfacestabbing@remus-is-stinky@foggybanditdreampeanut@ghostskull300@sprinklestheditty@canvas-the-florist@askthesnake@samuel-the-gay@determination-saved@juicy-cashew@demidork84@why-should-i-tell-youu2@nerd-in-space@aphriteblack@cktkat@im-actually-ok@loganpatton@lilbeanblr@kittyboof8@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch@sanders-trash-4ever@hamilspntrash@swords-and-kittens@phantomfander@narniasfinestavengingsociopath@rjmeta@ambersky0319@anni-cat-flower@idosanderssidespromptssometimes@nafsbluebery@redisawerewolf23@voidvirgil@msu82@angstyfanfiction

[kurtty-drabbles]

Postwoman au (part 7)

Finally, write the Krampus and Kitty time travel adventure.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @muninandhugin @tieflingteeth

In all honesty, if you ask Kitty with tact-something some people in her life lack- Kitty took this job without feeling she has a saying whatsoever in the matter. Maybe, it was true, maybe Galaticus in all his wisdom and all his status as an Outer God-one above everyone and everything. No one should forget this. Kitty felt she have no saying so, yet that didn´t stop her to form opinions.

At this very precise moment, Kitty is on her knees watching-even admiring the brazes of the fireplace- each aspect, each small detail of this strange room. It has an ancient vibe, as if Kitty travel back in time, at the same time it feels modern-she saw the TV near. Looks like a new model, at least it looks like.

It certainly isn´t how one imagines Krampus´s room. Kitty let a grin grace her rounded face as she develops some silly ideas for his room. She´s ever grateful Krampus can´t read minds. Those ideas are too dumb and Kitty has no sense of fashion.

"Your hair" his voice jolts Kitty back to reality. Krampus is looking at the ponytail and taking some hair locks in his azzure hand. Feeling the texture. Her hair is fluffy.

"Oh, yeah...I love to use ponytails" slowly her hands undo the ponytail letting her hair free once again. "You know, you don´t have to do this...." she trails off fidgeting with the ribbon used to form the ponytail.

Krampus hummed in response. Playing with her hair as a counter-response to everything.

"Really, is just hair..." Kitty is grateful Krampus is only watching her back. He doesn´t need to see her redden cheeks nor how the color is spreading to the neck.

"I want to do it, plus, you´re here already and you already undo the ponytail..." there´s mirth in his voice. Kitty won´t face him. "Your fingers are dexterous...is almost erotic to watch"

Kitty now has every reason to not turn and see his handsome face.

"I didn´t mean to make you uncomfortable!" he promises kindly. Isn´t it a bit funny? Krampus is kind but he´ll take your misbehaving kid-and sometimes your wife. Yet, he´s here being kind with Kitty just because. What a strange ancient man!

"I´m just saying...if you´re born in my...time, let´s call as such, many men would want to marry a woman with such fluffy hair and dexterous abilities" Kurt is kind.

Kitty could flirt. Could ignore. Kitty, however, has no real game in regards to some social situations.

"I´m Jewish...pretty sure German people wouldn´t like marry me" no shame on her part. Kitty wears her roots proudly. If Kurt has a problem...

"I know...in my time,  Jewish women are just women. Romani women are just women and black women are just women." his tone looks sad. "Until it was a point to distinguish and separate them..." she can feel him shaking his head. "In my time, when a woman presents to...the Gods, to the old temples, we judge her by her skills not her origins...you would get a good match" now his tail has a brush.

Her face turns slightly to the side-still feeling her checks burning- to see golden eyes staring at her amused. Mischievous. The woman pouts and turns back to her view of the fireplace.

"You´re a mysterious figure, you know that" Kitty begins as Kurt chuckles to prove his feelings. "That´s why I did my own research on you!" Kitty confesses to focus on the fire. It´s almost as if the fire is dancing.

Kurt humms again. Starting brushing her hair- Kitty will deny with all her heart if anyone claims she´s purring-slowly and Kitty closes her eyes, incline her head slightly and again if anyone says purring ...they´ll be so wrong.

"Oh, your research about me? I´m flatter, what my little postwoman found" Kurt is brushing her hair without any hush. Without pointing out certain sounds Kitty is making. Not purring, sure!

"Yes, I found out about you and Amanda"

"Uhm, not a secret, Katzchen"

"She was your secretary!" she starts not minding Kurt not an impressive response. "She was the daughter of Margalia Szardos. The lower totem of the magical community and thought if she had you like her...." now she stumbles with words.

"A weapon?" Kurt suggests amused.

"Yes, that. She thought if you were on her team she could conquer the witch community and be the Queen of the Witches" Kitty smiles as Kurt comments she´s correct.

"Margalia was killed by the council...and Amanda had a son with.....her brother" now she stops smiling. Incest sort breaks anyone´s victory.

"Oh, yes. She slept with Stefan. She named her own daughter as Amanda. She has killed as well Stefan" his tone is somber. Kitty wonders if she treads in dangerous waters.

"And the council spare her, the baby, you spare the baby...because you don´t believe in punishing a baby for the parents´ crimes" Kitty amends.

"Yes, Amanda gave her name to the baby but not the last name..."

"A witch without a surname is an outcast" Kitty pipes in. "Yana explain this to me...she´s the Demon Queen of my heart" she states and Kurt stops brushing her fluffy hair.

"Are you two...close?"

"Platonically speaking, of course. We´re platonic soulmates"

"Oh, it makes sense! I meet Yana.....she´s intense" Kurt offers this as an explanation. "She once tried to be the Zombie Queen for lols...she talks about you and her friends"

Kitty wanted to ask if he tried to hit on Yana. Yana doesn´t swing to this team at all.

"I didn´t hit on Yana. Not only Yana doesn´t swing to this team...she is 100% not a good match for me in any way...not a fan of zombies and she would claim herself as a Zombie Queen"

"Oh, that´s Yana. She was a Vampire Queen until she got bored"

"...Your platonic soulmate is all yours!"

Now his fingers are working on her fluffy hair. Time to braid it. "Your hair is lovely than Yana"

"What?"

"Shush, I´m braiding your hair!"

After a few moments. A few pushes on her hair-it may be intentional or not- the hair is done. Kurt takes the mirror to show the hairstyle.

(how it looks)

"What you think?"

"Krampus steals your kids, your wife, also do your hair. What you think?"

"Good, no one will believe the last part anyway" ________________________________________________________________________________________

Meggan Puceanu is a succubus. The world never will let her forget her such fact. NEVER. Succubus are fun for the night, no one wants to hang out with them in the day.

Meggan is all too used by now.

Brian, however, seems to not get the memo in regards to the succubus´s interaction as he´s still talking to her. Still here.

"I found some leads about the Black Queen. Selene is not being supported by Shaw, but, she has money enough for her plans...and Meggan, are you ok?"

"You still are talking with me...are you sure of that?"

And Brian was never the epitome of emotional sensibility or anything like that, in fact, not even his sister was-she tried to sleep with a married man once. Yet, Brian is not completely dumb to ignore the elephant in the room.

"When I ask you to be in Excalibur...you know the invitation is serious, right? I´ll not kick you out tomorrow"

"That´s ...new, really new to me"

"Working with someone else is also new to me...we can learn together"

Meggan wants to probe more of these feelings. Meggan has questions. Gloriana, however, is too professional to let work slide in favor of feelings.

"Do you think Krampus made the right call? Sending someone to the past is a bit dangerous..."

"Who is Krampus?"

"Kurt Wagner"

"That...doesn´t answer my question"

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Krampus is restless. Never a good sign as Santa can confirm. The two figures exchange one final look. Full of answers only for them and only them. Kitty must be oblivious if she wasn´t Kitty that´s it.

"So, my mission is to travel in time. Collect some magic rocks and return...all while not gathering the attention of the ancient figures of there. Smaller gods, right?" Kitty summarizes the situation as brief as she can.

Kurt´s face looks twisted in worry. His tail touches her hands. "You really don´t have to do this..." he looks at her braid hair and typical dress linked to the paganism era. "You can keep the dress and hair...I´ll not mind, but, please...there´s nothing forcing you to do this..."

"Is my work, Kurt, of course, I´ve to do it" Kitty answers resolutely. Even winking at him.

Kurt lowers his head a bit and rests his forehead on hers. Oh, how the height differences are a bit sometimes. Kurt did have to lower himself to do this small action. He could have lifted her up...but it would be too intimate.

"Kurt?" Kitty can´t hide her emotions very well. She tried.

"Stay away from Chernabog, promise me"

"I promise you"

With such small words, Kurt leaves Kitty and conjures the portal. Santa takes from there. "Once you collect the magical rocks...just use your key and you´ll be back in no time"

Kitty nods. Is not a hard task...

She jumps through the portal and Kurt watches as the portal closes.

"You could have tell her...you´re Chernabog"

"I...don´t know how she would reach this"

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Letter from a disenchanted student of the Divine Principle

Many Unification Church members seem to think people who left the organization are like some kind of lapsed Catholics, but most of those people just recognized Moon’s absurd and contradictory rhetoric had absolutely no relationship to reality – I pointed out many of those obvious contradictions in my previous letter to Rev Moon. Even the vaunted Divine Principle was not his own teaching. Much of it came from a woman called Seong-do Kim whose revelations began in 1923. She stated that Jesus did not come to die (not new because other Christians had taught this previously), she also taught that the fall was a sexual sin (again not new because Jewish scholars suggested this long ago and anyone can recognize the association, even sex shops use a bitten apple to advertise their wares). She also taught about the change of blood lineage through the messiah – thus justifying all the deviant sexual activity involved in the pikareum rituals. Another source was a woman called Chong Deuk-eun who dictated a book called the Principle of Life in 1946-47. It was published in 1958.

The history parallels were taken straight from the teachings of Baek-moon Kim’s Israel Monastery – being the reason they finish in 1917, which was Baek-moon’s birth date rather than 1920 when Moon was born. The final Divine Principle book was composed by a committee guided by Hyo-won Eu with input from Young Oon Kim and various professors. So rather than being a direct revelation, the DP is actually an interesting amalgam of Christian theology, nineteenth century science, Oriental philosophy and shamanism – added to the insights and teachings that were taken from various Korean spiritual groups.



This was why I felt free to approach much of the DP as almost allegorical because the main thing to emphasize was personal spiritual maturity – the development of a loving parental heart. (The real meaning of ‘perfection’.) I never believed that absolute Cain/Abel rubbish spouted by Moon and Japanese leaders. I remember one itinerant worker saying, ‘If my central figure tells me this red dress is blue then it’s blue.’ Absolutely insane – but this is exactly the kind of thing that has been propagated by the Moon family and their minions, especially in Japan, and it leads to all kinds of abuses.



In addition to the DP we also have Rev. Moon’s great blessing theory, whereby through downing a glass of holy wine and being engrafted to his lineage we become capable of conceiving pure offspring, free from original sin. These ‘blessed’ children can then form the core of the heavenly kingdom on earth, of course with the ‘True Parents’ and their children at the absolute center. However, the proof of any pudding is in the eating – regardless of how good the recipe might sound. So let us look at the results, the fruits of the messiah and his teaching.

We can start with some of his own blessed children:   Ye Jin – (Divorced.) Hyo Jin – was a drug addict, I saw him give a sermon one time when he was so stoned he had to hold on to the podium in order to stand up. He punched and kicked his wife, Nansook Hong, watched pornography, walked around with a gun in his pocket and beat up church members. (Divorced.) In Jin – was forced to resign her position because it became public knowledge about her affairs with two married members and the illegitimate child she had with one of them. (Divorced.) Un Jin – said clearly on TV that her father was not the messiah, and that the church was just about power and money. (Divorced.)

 Hyun Jin, the kind-hearted business expert who wanted to cut the salaries of our church’s jewelry workers by a third – I saw a video of him calling a church leader an arrogant bastard and kicking him as the man knelt before him. No matter what the guy was guilty of, this was just one more example of the violence perpetrated by the Moon family. Which of course was epitomized by Cleopas, the black Zimbabwean supposedly embodying the spirit of Heung Jin, who went around the world viciously beating up men and women, putting some in hospital. He even threatened church members with a pistol. (All of it approved by Rev Moon who laughed at the beatings and had himself used a baseball bat on members.)



Kook Jin – an arms dealer who said Abel wouldn’t have been killed if he’d had a gun. Divorced his wife and had himself re-blessed with a Korean beauty queen. He now has his own group of armed ‘knights’ willing to do whatever he orders. (Divorced.)

 Hyung Jin, the heir apparent (according to him), lied about getting a BA from Harvard when he actually attained a lower qualification – and if he thinks the parable of the sower is referring to ‘absolute sex’ I think he needs to go back to Divinity School. His Sanctuary Church now promotes the owning of AR-15 semi-automatic assault rifles, and has ceremonies with participants carrying these lethal weapons while wearing bizarre crowns of bullets. According to one of his recent speeches, all the women of the world are ‘Brides of Christ,’ and he of course is now in that Christ position.

Don’t want to go into details about some of the others as I feel sorry for them.



So this so-called true family demonstrates clearly that there is no difference between blessed children and any others. Rev. Moon said as much in Korea when he was talking about Sammy Park, his illegitimate son. He said, ‘The sons from the concubine are better because there is more passion involved in their conception.’ So much for the value of the blessing. 



(Of course Mrs Moon blames the bad behavior of her adult, absolute ruler children on the poor church members, as though they could do anything to control it.)



So now lets look at the practical results of all the members’ sacrifice and offerings:

 This Parc One court case (the conflict that began between Kook Jin and Hyun Jin) resulted in at least 700 million dollars of church money going to lawyers and outside companies. This is at a time when Japanese church members were being bled dry; many could not even afford to go to the dentist. (They were commonly referred to as ‘the toothless ones’ in Japan.)



Cheongpyeong – you couldn’t make it up – they were selling apartments in the spirit world! People have to be completely away with the fairies to buy into that. Mrs Hyo Nam Kim (Dae Mo Nim or Hoon Mo Nim) after being denounced as a fraud, walked away with assets worth more than 230 million dollars (including one of the top golf courses in South Korea), so her spiritual real estate business must have been doing very well. It’s as crazy as charging money so that your ancestors can attend workshops with the spirit of Heung Jin, or paying thirty dollars for two bottles of Danjobi shampoo to get evil spirits out of your hair. (This all of course also being done with the consent of Rev Moon.)

Mrs Kim was supposedly channeling Dae Mo Nim, the mother of Hak Ja Han, which was actually a strange choice because Dae Mo Nim and another woman had spent two years in jail for beating a mentally ill youth to death in one of these frenzied ansu sessions (where they beat bad spirits out of people).

That whole Cheongpyeong providence is merely old Korean shamanism, and just because people have spiritual experiences there doesn’t validate what is going on. Something many members don’t realize is that God works to educate and reach people regardless of what religion they are following.



Rev. Moon often praised Korean culture but Korea was a slave society for most of its history. Although the number of slaves had declined during the nineteenth century the institution was not legally banned until 1894, and the system survived in practice until the 1920s. At least one third of the population were slaves in the past, and the children of slaves automatically belonged to their masters – with most wealthy men keeping concubines. The Koreans always had that tradition of the Yangban, or aristocrats, being served by everybody else, even having a caste of sex slaves for that purpose.



Another tradition was idol worship and shamanism. All this drumming and beating at Cheongpyeong is actually for drawing spirits into people, not driving them out. The disgusting business of putting Moon’s semen and blood into the holy wine is more shamanism. Shamans believe if you can get someone to imbibe your bodily fluids they will come under your control. By the way, Rev Moon’s children used to refer to Mrs Kim and her people as ‘the witches of Cheongpyeong.’ To put this in perspective there are still over 300,000 shamans or ‘mudangs’ plying their trade in Korea. 



Conferences. After working on some of them I was shown very clearly that all those big science, arts and other conferences actually had no purpose other than glorifying Rev Moon. He wasn’t at all interested in any results from those meetings, only in how many famous people attended.



About 500 million dollars is donated each year by the Japanese church, but where does it all go? What great world-changing projects do you see it used for? Of what use are all these glorious palaces? The one at Cheongpyeong cost over a thousand million dollars. Just think what good could have been done in the world with such funds. This particular palace is now adorned with giant statues of Hak Ja Han with Jesus kneeling before her and a much diminished figure of Sun Myung Moon in obedient attendance. She has effectively created a new religion centered on herself by changing the basic teachings and proclaiming herself as the Only Begotten Daughter of God, the wife of God, the mother of God and God himself/herself. (What kind of mental gymnastics the present members are doing to believe this utter nonsense is beyond me.)



I know each national church lives in its own little bubble, in effect creating its own version of the Unification society and cherry picking which headquarters’ directions to implement. Each country also seems to hold onto its own view of the ‘messiah,’ effectively editing out anything that does not conform to this ideal. However, with the advent of the Internet this can thankfully no longer be the case.

It is the very core of the Unification Church that needs to be examined. The whole church has been built on lies. Even Rev Moon’s life story is full of falsehoods. Remember that picture of him carrying the man on his back; he let it be known for years that it was him before finally admitting it wasn’t.

The stories about Heungnam – I heard a testimony from one of those early disciples where she went to visit him and found him drinking tea in a nearby village! Chung-hwa Pak had been an officer in the military and was put in charge of the prisoners. He designated which tasks the prisoners should do. He was able to give Moon time off so they could talk together about his beliefs. Moon was not always being worked to death as he later stated.


He said he graduated in electrical engineering at Waseda University in Tokyo, but he actually only attended night classes at a technical high school.


The Church made out that Moon was arrested in North Korea for preaching against communism, but the charges were really for bigamy and adultery. Chong-hwa Kim, the married woman involved, was also jailed. His anti-communist stance came much later.



The story about him meeting Jesus on the mountainside is also untrue. It was Seong-do Kim who first told people she’d had these Easter revelations, then Baek-moon Kim claimed them as his, and finally Rev Moon – whose lies gave him away as Easter did not fall on the date he gave for that year. In his most recent account of that meeting he calls Jesus a bastard, and originally taught that Jesus should have had sex with his mother to restore the fall. He also claimed to have met and talked with Buddha, but until his first visit to India he thought Buddha was Chinese. 



The Tragedy of the Six Marys. This book described the pikareum, or womb-cleansing, ceremonies conducted during the early years of the Unification Church. For years we were told it was untrue, but before the book came out in Japan they started giving lectures explaining the providential reasons why Moon had to have sex not only with the Six Marys, but also with all the wives of the 36, 72 and even the 124 couples. Some of the members listening to those lectures left the church afterwards so they stopped giving them, but they started them again in Korea from what I heard.

The Israel Monastery was a pikareum church with Baek-moon Kim doing the womb cleansing by having sex with the female members. Another similar one was the Olive Tree Movement started by Tae-Seon Park. This had 300,000 members and the churches had special rooms to practice the pikareum rituals. So there were plenty of examples of this grotesque idea for Rev Moon to draw on.



The holy wine ceremony is a symbolic sexual act, but for the first years of the church Rev Moon actually had sex with the female members. This is the core of the church and it is both vile and ludicrous.



I don’t say these things lightly because I needed plenty of evidence before I believed them, but I know people in both Japan and Korea who attended lectures where this behavior was justified. In America Hyung Jin and Kook Jin have admitted such things happened. It was admitted by Young Oon Kim, Papasan Choi, Chung-Hwa Pak, President Eu’s cousin (Shin-hee Eu), Annie Choi (the mother of Sam Park), Deok-jin Kim and many others. Rev Yong also went around the world giving lectures explaining the dispensational necessity of such sex practices.



God of Day and God of Night. There used to be a shrine to this primitive Korean god to the east of Seoul. (Moon was incorporating any kind of rubbish into his mythology by the end of his life.)

I could report on even worse activities and crimes but I think this is enough for now. The Divine Principle itself is a wonderful construct, (Hyo-won Eu being something of a genius) the only problem being that it isn’t true. So much of the numerology, four position foundations, triple objective purposes and so on, is actually meaningless. There was no sexual fall and inherited original sin and Satan are non-existent. The history parallels are extremely contrived, and although interesting, prove nothing at all. There are many more aspects of the book that don’t make sense. Some parts of course are helpful, Jesus not coming to die and so on, but none of these are original ideas, so the book certainly doesn’t prove that Moon is the Second Advent.

▲ Baek-moon Kim was born in 1917. He devised the parallels of history.



As predicted nothing happened on Foundation Day apart from a few pointless ceremonies. The church leadership knew this would be the case, which is why they were already telling people to prepare for 2020, the 100th anniversary of Moon’s birth. Mrs Moon is emphasizing witnessing now. (Because tithes are an ongoing source of revenue.) She recently told the Japanese wives in Korea that if they don’t do well then their descendants will pay lots of indemnity. She seems to have forgotten what her husband said on October 27, 1999, ‘No more indemnity is needed. The providence of restoration is completed.’



I personally think anyone still teaching the Divine Principle has to examine all of the above, and then ask themselves if they are just helping to propagate a gigantic destructive fraud? Thousands of people have gone through real suffering to enrich Moon and his family. Many of them had their lives ruined by being matched and married to people they could not relate to. It’s hard to believe but Moon’s church even advertised for any Korean men who wanted wives to come to one of those big blessings – just to make the numbers up, although he charged them between two and ten thousand dollars for each purchased bride. He then matched dedicated Japanese sisters to men who weren’t even church members – some of whom were unemployed drunkards or worse. (One of these wives eventually killed her Korean husband after suffering years of abuse.) Again, ask yourself whether these matchings were the action of a loving father, or an evil despot with no concern at all for the happiness and well-being of others?



If members were matched with someone they could love and be happy with, then they were in the minority, as it was mostly a matter of luck. Remember he matched physical brothers and sisters on at least four occasions that I know of, then changed the matching when he was told about it, so it certainly wasn’t God guiding him.



If people want God in their lives all they have to do is invite him in. Knock and the door will be opened. You don’t need to go to God through Moon or anyone else, and heaven is a place for heavenly people, so if you aren’t heavenly then no blessing, white robe or inseminated wine is going to get you in there.

And just to be clear, arrogance and avarice are not heavenly attributes.



I believe anyone who has sincerely tried to serve God and create a better world has certainly not wasted their time, because God will remember their efforts whatever religion they followed, but the Unification Church, FFWPU, or Hak Ja Han’s new name for it ‘Heavenly Parent’s Holy Community,’ is nothing but a despotic money-making, power-seeking, destructive scam that should not be supported in any way.



My apologies people, no jokes this time, I’m too disgusted by the whole sorry mess.



Sloe Gin

______________________________________________

Newsweek on the many Korean messiahs of the 1970s

Hwang Gook-joo and his orgies

The Divine Principle is constructed to control members

Sun Myung Moon’s Theology of the Fall, Tamar, Jesus and Mary

Sun Myung Moon – Restoration through Incest

Shamanism is at the heart of Sun Myung Moon’s church

Japanese member, Ms. K, was forced to marry Korean man she did not like

Sun Myung Moon makes me feel ashamed to be Korean

The Fall of the House of Moon – New Republic

Sun Myung Moon’s secret love child – Mother Jones

Cult Indoctrination – and the Road to Recovery

[frizz22]

I know this isn’t a lot to go off of so I totally understand if you don’t want to write it, but I’m just really interested to see what you would do with it if you did because I love your writing: In truly what no one saw coming, Zelda is crowned Queen of Hell.

Notes:Zelda found out about Sabrina’s bid for queen before the quest started. Also, no pagans or loss of power. Hope you enjoy, thanks for the prompt! Read on ao3

She’d warned Sabrina about chasing power. About when it stopped being healthy.

Zelda only wished she could follow her own advice. Because she knew, she knew taking this path wouldn’t be healthy for her.

But if it was between Sabrina chained to Hell, forced into a position she never wanted for all eternity or Zelda taking the mantle for her… well, then it wasn’t a question of what had to be done.

Especially when experience had proven she couldn’t trust Lilith. 

If the witch had even a modicum of competence, she’d have put down rebellions quickly and brutally and they’d never have been in this position in the first place.

Even if rebellion had been inevitable, Lilith could have easily avoided Sabrina offering to take the throne by kicking the girl out of Hell the moment she realized Sabrina was there to free Nicholas.

But no, she had to play games and now here they were, fighting to hold off the apocalypse.

Again.

Because if Caliban somehow won, he already proclaimed he’d make the mortal realm another circle of Hell; finish what Lucifer started.

Considering all of this, Zelda could hardly place the fate of the world at her niece’s shoulders… especially after she’d nearly doomed them all the last time she found herself unwittingly carrying the weight.

It wasn’t just that Zelda had trouble trusting a teenager with such a responsibility, she didn’t want Sabrina to experience such hardship again. Her girl had been through enough recently, and Zelda refused to let her endure more.  

As for how she intended to go about usurping everyone….

Well, the rules of the quest explicitly stated whoever recovered the three unholy regalia first would be the uncontested ruler of Hell, celestial blood be damned. They did not mention anything about how every contester to the throne needed the 666 signatures to participate; only that the signatures were needed for the quest to begin.

So, without anyone knowing she’d found a loophole, Zelda set about searching for the regalia herself.

Well, not entirely by herself.

Ambrose took only a little persuading. In the end, though, he didn’t want Sabrina as Queen any more than Zelda. So, while he was extremely reluctant to lose Zelda to Hell should she succeed, her nephew knew what was at stake and promised to come to her first. 

~~~

Zelda shouldn’t be surprised at this point. Shouldn’t be in awe of how smart, clever and resourceful her nephew was. He’d only needed a day to find Herod’s crown.

A day.

Grinning and kissing him excitedly on the head, Zelda took his tracking tool and teleported away; not wasting a moment.

The crown was relatively easy to collect, for something meant to be lost to the ages it hadn’t been particularly difficult to retrieve. Even resealing Herod in his tree didn’t present much of a challenge.

As Zelda turned to leave, a sense of unease swept through her. This was a moment of no return; did she really want….

No.

She couldn’t doubt, not for one second. Not when Sabrina’s life and wellbeing were on the line. Burying anything that would make it appear as though becoming Queen weren’t her sole desire, Zelda held her head high, adopted a smirk and spun the crown in her hands as she teleported to Hell to claim her victory and reveal herself as a contender for the throne. 

~~~

To say the demons were wroth was an understatement, and Lilith’s bafflement quickly morphed to rage, though she reined it in better than Hell’s other residents.

She merely lifted a brow in a mock question. “What? The quest was announced, no rule states other competitors cannot join in once it starts. I didn’t need the signatures to participate, check your scrolls if you don’t believe me.” As expected, the demons did just that. And, once again, as expected, they turned to her snarling. Smirking at them, Zelda swept across the room to where the regalia were to be stored. “It’s not my fault your rules have loopholes.” Zelda informed them, placing the crown on its shelf before propping a hand on her hip when she turned to face them again.

“There could be a three-way tie!” One demon growled, though he looked confused as to what would happen should that happen. “Or any being from any realm could decide to join now and Hell would fall further into discord.”

Zelda scoffed. “First off, I won’t be defeated by a half-trained sixteen-year-old child or a piece of animated dirt.” As expected, her statement created a burble of conversation and outcries. “Secondly, if by some unholy miracle I do not acquire the second regalia, the tie will be between myself and the winner of round two. The loser will no longer be in the running for the throne. Lastly,” she ticked off the third item on her fingers, “make a revision to the quest now, proclaiming no one who is not already participating in the quest, so no creature or being except Sabrina, Caliban and I, can contend.”

Murmurs of consent rumbled through the room and Zelda rolled her eyes only to catch Lilith doing the same. She almost shared an exasperated smile with the woman before she remembered she was part of the reason Zelda was doing this to begin with. Besides, it was unlikely Lilith felt any kinship with her at all, considering what she was doing, what she’d ultimately take from Lilith.

Refocusing her attention on the room, Zelda raised her voice, cutting across the din. “Seems I’m Queen material already, however did you function done here with such guidance? Why bother with the rest of the quest when I’m clearly the most qualified of the competitors?”

Before anyone could denounce her boldness, though, Sabrina and Caliban appeared, both breathless and confused.

“Auntie?” Sabrina murmured, confusion furrowing her brow.

Anger flickered on Caliban’s face before he schooled himself. “So, you cheated.” He turned to Sabrina, crossing his arms.  

Her laugh stopped any argument that may have started between the youths. “Cheated? I think not. I’m a challenger to the throne as well. And the first round is mine.” Zelda indicated to the crown and sauntered back to the middle of the room, commanding everyone’s attention. “I suggest you reassess your decision, Caliban, taking on a novice witch is one thing, taking on a High Priestess is another.”

The supposed Prince of Hell gaped at her, as well as his demon cronies.

Arching a brow, Zelda inclined her head at them, taking one last appraising look of the throne room where she’d be trapped should she succeed, before striding forward and taking Sabrina’s arm. “We’ll see you when the next quest begins.”  

An uproar sounded from countless voices as they teleported away.

When they reappeared at the house, Zelda sniffed and then sighed. “Brimstone.” She muttered, plucking at her clothes. “I suppose it’s a smell I should get accustomed to, seeing as how I’ll be living in Hell soon enough.” Shaking her head, Zelda made for the porch, fully intending to wash the smell from her, when Sabrina caught her arm.

“Aunt Zelda, what are you doing?” She beseeched, eyes wide and confused.

A small smile tugged the corner of Zelda’s mouth and she tucked a strand of Sabrina’s hair back. “Protecting you.” She murmured softly.

Mouth working uselessly for a moment, Sabrina shook her head vehemently. “You can’t. This is something I need to do. Edward and Lucifer both made sure of that. And if my fathers,” her lips twisted in distaste at the word, “put me on this path then I have—"

“They are not your parents.” Zelda interrupted harshly. “A parent’s job is to protect you, look out for you, guide you. Neither Edward nor Lucifer did any of those things for you.” Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. “Regardless, this isn’t what you want, you said so yourself just a month ago. Fought against it tirelessly. It was the whole reason we confronted, and somehow, defeated Satan, put Lilith on the throne. Seeing as how she’s incapable of holding it, I will. I won’t have you on that throne, won’t have your life stolen from you. Ruling as Queen of Hell is something I never wanted for you.”

Sabrina pulled away from her. “But it’s something you wanted for yourself.” She bit out caustically.

Stunned, Zelda blinked at her niece. “What?”

Huffing in disbelief, Sabrina’s jaw worked side to side. “You must have felt pretty good on your high horse, telling me not to chase power when this was your plan all along. First you tried to get power through Blackwood, only that backfired. Then it was seizing a High Priestess-ship before the coven even recovered from being poisoned. Apparently, even that wasn’t enough, now you have to be Queen of Hell as well.”

Fury bubbled up inside Zelda and it erupted before she could stop it. “I married,” she swallowed, the topic still painful, “I married Faustus for a number of reasons. For some glory and power, yes. But also, to get Hilda’s excommunication lifted; witches without covens are easy pickings. And to protect you.” At Sabrina’s skeptical expression, Zelda gripped her niece’s shoulders forcing her to look her in the eye. “You truly have no idea how much danger you put yourself and our family in on a regular basis. You left us powerless and open to attacks during your trial, Hell knows how we came out of that completely unscathed. You openly challenged the Feast of Feasts, which could have resulted in charges of blasphemy and hangings. You conducted an exorcism, which if I hadn’t been Constance’s midwife would have proven disastrous. You performed a resurrection on a mortal boy at the expense of a witch; we’re lucky Faustus didn’t take that to the high council for deliberation and punishment.”

Her chest heaved, and Sabrina simply stared at her, speechless.

“I told you, warned you, your actions were putting us in a grave, and still you refused to listen. So yes, I had several reasons for marrying, one of which was power, but it was so, so much more than that. And, it did end poorly, your reminder that it did is unnecessary. As for being High Priestess, who else would have taken charge? I won’t lie, I wanted it, not like this, but I wanted it. And there was no one else; all other coven members old enough or powerful enough died, fled or in your Aunt Hilda’s case didn’t want it.”

Tears sprang into Sabrina’s eyes. “Auntie Zee, I, I never—"

Not entirely moved by Sabrina’s tears, Zelda pressed on. “Never truly learned everything has a price. Well, perhaps now you will. Though I expect I’ll be paying it, having to play Queen and unable to see my family again.” Zelda released Sabrina and pressed a finger into the corner of her eye to stem a tear of her own as she turned to go inside once more.

Eyes widening, Sabrina clutched at her once more. “What?! No! We, we would be able to see you. The Dark Lord left Hell to bug me all the time, you could do the same. And, and we could always come see you. And then there’s witching boards and mirrors for everyday stuff.”

Softening, Zelda shook her head. “Not at first. I’d need to cut all ties. Regardless of my victory in the quest, I’d need to establish dominance over the residents of Hell. And they’d see any connection I had to this realm as weakness. It’d likely be years, maybe even decades before it’d be safe to see or talk to any of you.” She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “None of that matters right now, first, I have to win. We cannot let Caliban ascend.”

She turned and all but fled back into the house before Sabrina could stop her again. Unfortunately, Hilda barged into the bathroom where Zelda was bathing, trying to rid herself of the brimstone odor, not much later.

Though Zelda started horribly at her sister’s entry, sloshing water over the lip of the tub, she thankfully managed a dry tone. “Honestly, Hilda, one would think you were brought up with no manners.” She reached for her loofah, scrubbing her arms a little harshly. “What couldn’t possibly wait until—"

Suddenly the sponge was snatched from her hand and Zelda turned automatically to glare at Hilda only to be met with eyes brimming with tears of anger and fear.

“How could you?” Hilda demanded softly, though her voice was firm.  

Sighing, Zelda stood, stepping out of the tub and waving a hand to dry herself before pulling her robe on; clearly Sabrina wasted no time in telling the rest of the family—though Ambrose already knew. “Hildie…” she hedged, tying her robe and moving out into the bedroom to brush her hair.

Hilda came to a stop behind her, planting her hands in her hips as they made eye contact in the mirror. “Don’t. Don’t you ‘Hildie’ me. This, this is—"

She set her brush down and spun on her stool to face her sister. “It’s the only way, dear sister.” Zelda cut in gently, and from how Hilda’s features contorted with displeasure, her sister knew it was the truth.  

Almost tripping back onto the bed, Hilda sat abruptly. “You could have told me.” She whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks freely now.

Guilt swept through Zelda and she moved to sit next to Hilda on the bed. Threading her fingers with Hilda’s where they rested in her lap, Zelda rested her head on her sister’s shoulder. “I could have.” She admitted softly. “I should have.” She added, thinking of how far they’d come in the past year and yet here she was still clinging tightly to secrets under the guise of protecting her family. “It was for—"

Squeezing her hand tightly, Hilda shook her head. “I know why you’re doing this; I understand it. I hate it.” A watery chuckle escaped her, and Hilda used her free hand to wipe some tears away. “I hate it, but I support you. I just wish you’d have trusted me…. you trusted Ambrose.” She murmured in a small voice.

Heart twisting, Zelda shifted so she could look Hilda in the eye. “It wasn’t about trust, Hildie, you know that. I trust you more than anyone, you’re my sister. But this was such a covert plan, no one could know until it was too late to stop. And I needed Ambrose’s help, he is the best researcher I’ve ever come across and if I’m to win, I need to use all my resources.”

Hilda sniffled but nodded. “Well, now you’ve got another resource in your corner.” She attempted a smile and then lurched forward to hug Zelda hard.

Chin quivering, Zelda clung to her sister, knowing she wouldn’t have very many opportunities like this in the future. 

~~~

Only a few days later and they were summoned to Hell for the second part of the quest. They were to retrieve Pontius Pilate’s bowl.

Lovely, Zelda thought as she and Sabrina teleported away; purposely avoiding Lilith who looked ready to spit fire. But it was a race, after all, and though it was no mystery where the bowl was located, getting to it was another mystery she needed to solve… and fast.  

When they got back home, Zelda made for Ambrose’s room, Sabrina on her heels.

She stopped suddenly, and Sabrina ran into her with a small yelp. Turning, Zelda arched a brow. “What are you doing?”

Smiling sheepishly, Sabrina shrugged. “Working together?” Her voice went up a few octaves at the end.

“No.” Zelda replied flatly, heading up the stairs again, the odd time egg thing Faustus had been so desperate to acquire should do the trick.

Undeterred, Sabrina bounded up the steps behind her and pushed into Ambrose’s room as well. “Auntie! I know, I know you don’t want me to win… honestly, I don’t want to either. But we can’t let Caliban win. Two is better than one, as long as one of us wins this round we keep him from the throne.”

As much as she disliked the idea of bringing Sabrina into a time vortex with her, Zelda saw the logic in her niece’s argument; apparently there was a first time for everything. “Alright,” she acquiesced, already moving across the room to examine the tank Ambrose was storing the egg in. “But,” she straightened and pinned Sabrina with a glare, “you have to do what I say. Understood?”

Rolling her eyes, Sabrina nodded. “Understood.” She joined Zelda next to the tank. “Now, how to we use this?”   

~~~

Entering the vortex wasn’t nearly as large of a problem as Zelda anticipated, though the skulls lining their path gave her pause about allowing Sabrina to continue further.  

Too late to turn back now, however, so they pushed forward at a brisk pace. Sabrina wanted to run ahead, keep what appeared to be their lead on Caliban, but Zelda held her back. There was no telling what lived here, no telling how the time loop warped its inhabitants, made them dangerous.

When the sentinels appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, Zelda cursed but held back the defensive spells leaping to her fingers. They hadn’t so much as glimpsed the bowl yet, blasting off spells could bring an entire army down on them and they’d never get out; if they lived.

As they were pushed along by their captors, Zelda couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated by their presence. Had Sabrina come on her own… Hell knew what her niece would have heedlessly run into headfirst; at least this way—her thoughts ended abruptly.  

Cages.

Zelda shivered as the door swung shut behind her and Sabrina with a resounding noise of finality.

Squeezing her eyes closed, Zelda focused on her breathing. It was a physical cage, nothing like the mental one Faustus so cruelly trapped her in on their honeymoon. She was fine, she had her wits about her, was in control… well, relatively.

Sabrina’s voice recaptured her attention. Opening her eyes, Zelda was surprised to see Caliban in an adjoining cell. Her niece somehow needling how he got there out of him.

The stone.

Of course, Zelda peered into the distance, marking its location in her mind. Their time water had been confiscated, and while Zelda was sure she could get it back with some brute force, it never hurt to have a plan B.

Before the conversation—which had devolved into the trading of petty insults—could continue, Pontius strolled over, going on about punishments and making examples for other criminals. The good news, he sneered, was that only one of them would have to pay the price; one hundred lashes.

Quickly putting herself in front of Sabrina, Zelda tipped her chin up in defiance. “I’ll take the lashes.” To her astonishment, Caliban volunteered at the same time.

They looked at one another, clearly not having expected competition to receive a whipping.

Eyeing her with awe, Caliban spoke to Pontius. “Though the lady is noble in her offer, I shall take the lashes.” When Zelda narrowed her eyes in suspicion, Caliban smiled at her crookedly. “I’m made of clay, High Priestess, I will not bleed and scar as you will.” Bowing his head slightly, Caliban allowed himself to be led away.

Sabrina blinked. “Whaaat just happened?”

Lifting a brow, Zelda sat down. “I think I earned the claymation’s respect.” She remarked, pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling in relief. While she once saw flogging as a means to pleasure, ever since she’d crossed the line of using it as self-punishment all those months ago, she hadn’t been able to look at a whip without feeling queasy.

She’d surely have taken the lashes if Caliban hadn’t, Zelda would have ripped their captors to shreds had they tried to hurt her girl… but she was suddenly immensely thankful for the boy’s existence; even if it’d been the cause of this entire quest to begin with.

“We need to come up with a plan while he’s gone.” Zelda murmured, changing the topic and pushing thoughts of whippings out of her mind.

Just then, another prisoner spoke up. Morosely talking about how there was no escape, how everyone died but him.

Sharing a look with her niece, Zelda smiled and leaned forward to learn more.

~~~ 

After quite a bit of hushed arguing, a few threats and a reminder that Sabrina had promised to do as Zelda said, her niece agreed to wear a glamor, steal the bowl and run.

While Zelda could end the quest if she was the one to return the bowl, she refused to leave Sabrina behind, especially after tricking their captors. She’d extricate herself somehow and follow as soon as she could.

As Sabrina ran for the stone, frequently looking back, eyes switching between the sentinel chasing her and Zelda, she couldn’t help but smile a little. Though Zelda had no clue how she’d escape, what mattered was Sabrina’s safety and Caliban being ousted from the competition.

Caliban gaped at Sabrina’s retreating form and then at Zelda. “You had to have known. She couldn’t have planned this with him,” he jerked his chin towards the remaining prisoner who was still laughing maniacally, “without your knowledge.”

Arching a brow, Zelda shrugged. “Sabrina was the one to come up with the idea, she made the deal with the man. I didn’t interfere.”

“And in the process doomed yourself.” Caliban murmured, brow furrowing. “First you offer to be whipped 100 times for her, now this…. I don’t understand, you could have won.”

The caustic comment died on her tongue and Zelda shifted to look at the boy next to her. “It’s because you’re made of clay,” she explained more gently than she expected. “You weren’t raised up, never had family, someone to look after, to look after you, to love. Someone scraped you together from the ground because they were bored and wanted to see if they could. How could you understand a mother’s love?”  

Her comment made Caliban cock his head and turn away, deep in thought.

With him sufficiently distracted and the sentinel not yet back to the stage, Zelda focused her energies on the manacles encircling her wrists. They were meant to suppress her abilities, but she’d already beaten the system once, helped Sabrina escape with the bowl; why couldn’t she be the exception again?

Drawing on her power, pulling from deeper and deeper recesses within herself, Zelda closed her eyes, and funneled the magic coursing hotly through her to the shackles. The metal shattered.

Stunned it’d worked so quickly, it took Zelda a moment to recover and shoot a blast of power at the sentinel who’d picked up speed at her escape and was closing in fast.

She turned to Pontius and lifted him up into the air by the throat with a spell. “My water,” she stated, holding out her free hand. She could make a run for the stone, just as Sabrina had, but Zelda preferred not to leave magical time water behind if she could help it.

Pontius snarled at her and called for more guards. Beings rose up from the hills, blades glinting in the sunlight as they descended.

“Hard way it is, then.” Zelda muttered, breaking Pontius’ neck before flicking her wrist and freeing Caliban. The boy made a small noise of surprise in response. “I trust you can handle yourself. I won’t babysit you.”

Grinning, Caliban nodded and started firing off spells at the oncoming horde. 

~~~

Interestingly enough, they both survived and traveled back to the mortal realm through the stone; Zelda still hadn’t wanted to use the water unless necessary—it was a finite resource. Which meant they were now limping and huffing along after fighting off Pontius’ sentinels and making their way to a teleportation point to head home.

They’d been walking for almost twenty minutes when Caliban broke the silence. “Why did you save me?” And before she could brush away the incident with a flippant comment about a Queen needing to know how to delegate, he continued. “You could have handled them yourself, you’re powerful enough. Not just anyone could have broken those chains… I couldn’t have.” He confessed quietly and half to himself.

She rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. “I could have handled them myself,” she acknowledged as they trekked the final hill to the jumping point. “If I had I wouldn’t have the energy to make the trip home for days, though.” When Caliban huffed in disbelief and looked as though he’d argue, Zelda allowed a little of the truth to come out. “And, well, you did so valiantly take those lashes for us. It seemed fair to repay the favor.”

Shaking his head, Caliban took several quick steps forward and stood in front of her. To Zelda’s continued surprise, he dropped to one knee. “I know I am no longer a contender for the throne, High Priestess Spellman, you’ve proven a much worthier opponent than I imagined. If you’d have me, I’d like to pledge my allegiance to you and serve in whatever way I can.”

Eyebrows flying up, Zelda assessed the young man in front of her, trying to determine if he was lying in anyway. “I may have you take that pledge under the effects of truth cake, but your popularity with the demons, should it still hold after your defeat, could be useful.” Smiling, Caliban stood and fell back into step with her. As they slowly reached the peak, Zelda turned to Caliban once more. “Why back me? Surely, your whole agenda about celestial blood should have you supporting my niece.”

Chuckling softly, Caliban groaned and rubbed his side where he’d received a particularly brutal hit. “Because you’re the logical choice. Sabrina may be the Dark Lord’s offspring, but she knows little of ruling, of the sacrifices one needs to make to rule. You, High Priestess, I can tell you know what it takes to lead.” He placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder, and they stopped to face one another. “You’ve shown me you have a keen mind for strategy, the raw strength to lead, the conniving to do what needs to be done, but also, also compassion.” He murmured as though confused by how he valued the trait. “You offer to take on the pain of others, sacrifice yourself when others could, spare your enemies…. Of the three of us, you are the best chance Hell has; not someone scraped together out of dirt and not someone who has no right to lead but by the blood in her veins.” He dropped his hand and took the last few steps to the teleportation site.

Impressed, if a bit taken aback, that she’d won Caliban over, Zelda painstakingly climbed the final steps and joined him to teleport back to Greendale. 

~~~

There was chaos in the throne room when they made it to Hell. The demons in a tizzy over Sabrina being the only one left.

Smirking, Zelda limped forward, hair disheveled, dress torn and dirty. She spoke up as though she hadn’t known this would be the outcome since they were captured in the time loop. “Seems we are in a tie, niece.”

Gasps sounded from many of the residents of Hell, Lilith ran her tongue over her teeth irritatedly, and Sabrina made an abortive movement as though she’d gone to hug Zelda and then thought better of it. “Auntie, so glad to see you survived. The final quest wouldn’t be the same without any competition.”

Before Zelda could reply, Caliban came up behind her, looking equally as disheveled. The demons growled at him, clearly dismayed by his performance. “As you can see, I’ve been disqualified. Outmaneuvered by High Priestess Spellman. I will now support her claim moving forward.” He bowed his head at her and moved into the crowd of demons, ghouls and other beasts filling the throne room.

With a flick of her wrist, Lilith dismissed everyone until the final regalia was as to be recovered, only to catch Zelda’s arm as she made to leave with Sabrina.

The irritation filling the woman’s eyes at Zelda’s survival had been replaced. “Zelda,” she breathed, eyes bright. “This is perfect. All you need to do is throw the final quest and Sabrina will be Queen and me her regent. Just as it should be.”

Eyeing the witch, Zelda slid her arm from Lilith’s grip. “I think not. If anything happened to you, she’d be forced to take up the Queenship. I’m not going to let Sabrina be associated with this place, even if there are degrees of separation. No,” she held up a finger to forestall interruptions from both Lilith and Sabrina. “Sabrina, you will throw the final challenge. I will become Queen, just as I planned, freeing you from this horrid duty forever.”

Expression darkening, Lilith scoffed. “I’m touched by your concern for me and I assure you I’m made of hardier stuff than Lucifer. The hordes of Hell would have a trouble killing me.” She noted dryly, smoothing her dress unnecessarily. “You should have seen how I handled them after you recovered the crown, it took me hours to dissuade them not to riot and kill you and your niece. Why do you think I did not come and confront you about your actions? Because I was cleaning up after you, like I’ve so often cleaned up after Sabrina.”

Arching a brow, Zelda snorted. “If you’re so competent at handling your royal subjects, why did you allow this farce of a competition to happen? You should have killed Caliban where he stood, slaughtered the demons who dared to bring him before you and been done with it. It’s despicable work, but I thought you up to the task when we made you Queen.”

Something dangerous glinted in Lilith’s eye and her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. “I was attempting to be different from my predecessor. Had I wanted to take his path, I’d have killed Sabrina after we trapped Lucifer. Regardless, if you find the idea of Queen so deplorable, why chase it?” Her eyes were much sharper than before, as if testing Zelda and her constitution.  

“Because I must. To protect my child.” Zelda bit out, shifting so she could use her minimal height advantage to look down on the woman. But fighting with Lilith wasn’t what she wanted, not really; especially when she now saw the witch’s logic in her approach to the throne. Exhaling slowly, Zelda took a step back. “Once I’m Queen I will need help.” She cocked her head, “you can’t be my regent, for obvious reasons, but the position for my Left Hand could use someone of your ability, experience and fortitude.”

Brows drawing, Lilith lifted her chin in defiance. “I’ve held the position of Left Hand for centuries, Zelda, with unfulfilled promises of more power. I’ll not put myself in the same position I fought so hard to get out of. If we do this, if I don’t decide just to kill you and save myself the trouble… I rule by your side.” She counter offered, face hard and expressing she’d take no other deal.

Zelda gave the demoness an assessing look. “Well, if murder is on the table…”

A sharp tug on her arm made her gasp in pain and Sabrina grimaced in apology. “Sorry, but Auntie Zee,” she stepped closer so she could whisper in her ear, “you actually need her. She knows everything about how things are run down here…”

She cocked her head at Sabrina and huffed for added effect. “Oh, darling, I know you’ve gotten to know her quite a bit and she still has your teacher’s face, but the death wouldn’t be too horribly gruesome.” When her niece gaped at her, Zelda winked discreetly and ignored Lilith’s offended noise. “But I suppose there’s been enough pain, death and manipulation. Fine,” she exhaled with slight exaggeration, “Lilith, you would rule with me in all but name. We can’t have the demons animating any more playdough people to contest my claim because they believe you’ve too prominent a role. Though the regalia should keep them at bay for several centuries at least. Also, you cannot kill me or have me killed in some coup.” The last part might have been unnecessary, but Zelda was taking no chances; not anymore.

Stretching out her hand, Lilith pursed her lips. “You’re competent and knowledgeable at least, will actually do the job. I suppose it’s better than ruling with the brat who ruined my life and then refused to shoulder the responsibility she seized.” Her eyes slid to Sabrina, eyebrow ticking up in disapproval.

Though she could hardly blame Lilith for her response to Sabrina’s actions—Zelda felt the same exasperation most of the time—she couldn’t allow anyone to disparage her girl. Taking Lilith’s hand, Zelda used it to draw the woman in, so their faces were only inches apart. “You may now be my confidant and advisor in the Heaven forsaken place, but don’t think you can speak ill of the royal family.”

A wicked smile spread on Lilith’s face as she took Zelda in. “Oh, oh I think we’ll make a fine team, Zelda. I truly,” she moved a bit closer and the proximity she’d used to intimidate now seemed intimate and Zelda swallowed. “I truly look forward to working with you.” Suddenly Lilith backed away and clapped her hands. “Until then. And Zelda,” she called after them as Sabrina subtly slipped an arm around her waist to assist her. “Do have Hilda see to those wounds, can’t have my Queen at anything but 100%.”

The way Lilith said what would soon be her title shouldn’t send shivers through her, Zelda should still be furious at the woman for, well, everything. But as she limped out of Hell and teleported back to the house to let Hilda fuss over her injuries, Zelda couldn’t help the excitement and touch of something else that flared up inside her at the chance to work more closely with the Mother of Demons. 

~~~

When they arrived for the third quest, Lilith gave Zelda a small smile and inclined her head subtly in greeting. She was still slightly baffled by the Lilith’s sudden change in demeanor towards her, begrudging acceptance was one thing, but this almost flirtatious manner was odd. Perhaps it was because Zelda had earned her respect, or perhaps Lilith was making the best of the situation and was messing with her in the only way the demoness could. Regardless, it was a matter to think on later.

They were in the end game now, with Caliban out of the way and Sabrina only pretending to chase the thirty pieces of silver, this final quest was more a formality than anything. That didn’t mean they could be sloppy, though.

It started off easy enough. Sabrina took off, as planned, acting as though she were rushing to Ambrose for help to find the coins, while Zelda slipped into the library a few halls down from the throne room. Pulling a scroll from the shelf, she pretended to peruse it until Lilith appeared.

The witch sidled up next to her, one arm resting on the back of Zelda’s chair while the palm of the other braced against the table. When Lilith leaned in closer, Zelda caught a whiff of her perfume, something deliciously sweet compared to the harsh brimstone smell filling the air. Lilith’s voice recaptured her attention. “This isn’t the scroll you want.” She observed, her breath ghosting against Zelda’s cheek as she pointed to a segment at the top of the parchment.

“No cheating, Lilith!” A demon snapped from behind them. “The two remaining contestants must complete this without help from any beings in Hell.” His eyes glistened dangerously, clearly hoping for a reason to move against Zelda. It appeared now that the demons’ chosen one was gone, they’d put their support behind Sabrina; preferring a younger, inexperienced witch, one they could more easily manipulate, as their ruler.

Lilith held up her hands and backed away. “Of course, Beelzebub, of course.”

Carefully palming the bit of paper Lilith slipped under the scroll while pretending to point to it, Zelda flicked a wrist and sent the parchment flying back to its shelf; ignoring how it wobbled because of her distraction at Lilith’s proximity. What was that witch doing to her?

Regaining herself, Zelda pushed out of her seat. “Is my niece being babysat?” When Beelzebub floundered, Zelda scoffed. “Then be gone. I will complete this quest and then there won’t be time for standing and dawdling.”

The demon jumped and scurried away at her tone and Lilith smirked in approval. “A perfect tone and demeanor for a Queen.” She observed with a wink before leaving the room.

Lips quirking up despite herself, Zelda read the paper containing the clue Lilith procured as to the location of the silver and teleported away. 

~~~

Bag of silver in hand, and two small puncture wounds on her neck, Zelda strutted back into the throne room. “Kneel before your Queen.”

To her immense surprise, her half-serious order was obeyed without hesitation; cries of “Hail Queen Zelda,” filling the air.

Huffing, Zelda crossed the room and placed the bag in the final shelf. The moment the bag touched the shelf, power Zelda only dreamed of surged through her.

An involuntary gasp escaped her.

She’d always been powerful; stronger than most. But this… this was something else. Stifling the wide smile on her face, Zelda turned to face her subjects, head held high as she made her way to the throne.

Lilith stepped aside graciously, though there was a glint in her eye that told Zelda the witch still thought the throne should be hers. She’d have to make sure they had a proper talk when this was over, ensure Lilith didn’t do anything drastic to seize power; while death was off the table, Zelda refused to be a puppet again.

Settling on the throne, Zelda arched a brow. “Aren’t there things you should be doing? You’ve left Hell unattended for far too long while this quest occurred. Go. Report back to me at the end of the day tomorrow.” Everyone in front of her burst into movement, pushing past each other in their haste to do as she bid.

When a soft hand landed on her shoulder, Zelda shifted to find Lilith standing next to her. “Shall I get my Queen acquainted with the most pressing matters?”

Lips curling up a little, Zelda inclined her head and stood; the room in front of them now empty. “I assume I have a study?” Lilith nodded in affirmation. “Good, let’s move our conversation there. First things first, proclaim to the witching realm that the Dark Lord is no more. All hail Queen Zelda Spellman. Next, we determine our strategies to reform Hell.”

Blinking, Lilith’s step faltered. “We?” She repeated, as though she hadn’t really expected Zelda to uphold her end of the bargain once she was on the throne.

Zelda inclined her head. “Of course, we’re a team now. Don’t think you’ll get to laze about simply because I won and not my unqualified niece or Gumby. Come, we’ve much to do, realms to change.”

A genuine smile, perhaps the first Zelda had seen, spread on Lilith’s lips. “Indeed, we do,” she breathed, leading the way once more. 

~~~

 Four Years Later

Lilith touched her shoulder, waking her from where she’d fallen asleep in her study. “You’re family’s here.” She murmured, smoothing a strand of Zelda’s hair back.

Eyes widening, Zelda shot out of her chair. “Already? I thought they weren’t coming until tonight?”

Smiling sympathetically, Lilith helped Zelda smooth her dress. “It is night, darling, you were asleep longer than you thought.”

“Why did you let me sleep so long!” She demanded, hurrying over to a mirror and checking her makeup and silently cursing the lack of windows to the mortal realm which would have helped her judge the time.

Lilith came up behind her and rested her chin on Zelda’s shoulder. “Because you haven’t slept in a week and even the Queen of Hell needs rest. Besides,” she gently gripped Zelda’s hips and spun her around. “I knew you’d only fret about their arrival. It’s the first time you’ve seen since taking the throne. Four years, while a long time, is still much sooner than you thought you’d see them, all things considered.”

She exhaled shakily. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, it’s not as if we haven’t spoken. But what if,” she spun her rings anxiously. “What if I find out they’re so much better off without me and are so much happier with me gone?”

It was a fear that had been gnawing at Zelda for ages now, one she’d only just gotten the nerve to voice.

Tsking, Lilith placed a gentle finger under her chin and tilted it up until their eyes met. “That is complete nonsense. If they are better off it’s only because you’ve made their lives easier with your actions here as Queen. And I cannot imagine how they could possibly be happier without you.”

Her quick dismissal helped Zelda breathe a little easier and she nodded; even if a nasty voice still muttered in the back of her head, at least it was quieter now. “Thank you,” she murmured, leaning in for a short kiss. “I suppose I’m also nervous about announcing our engagement.”

Lilith beamed. “They’ll be happy you’re happy.” She reassured, moving her hand to cup Zelda’s cheek. “You are happy, aren’t you?” The question came out sounding smaller and more vulnerable than Zelda thought Lilith intended, but the reassurance soothed her churning mind, nonetheless.

It hadn’t been much of a surprise when, after two months of working closely together as Queen and advisor, they tumbled into bed together.

What had been surprising was how well they worked, how much they ultimately shared with each other, how what they thought were good relationships soured and left them confused, hurt, angry.

What had been surprising was how they’d helped one another to heal… to love. To the point Zelda proposed Lilith become her co-Queen in truth.

Hilda and Ambrose were at least partially aware of the situation, though Sabrina seemed blissfully ignorant no matter the hints Zelda tried to drop once she’d thought her dominance was established enough in Hell that communicating via witching boards and mirrors with her family wouldn’t be seen as a weakness.

Framing Lilith’s face, Zelda smiled at her warmly. “More than I imagined possible while being away from the rest of my family.” She stroked her thumbs along Lilith’s cheeks and kissed her softly once more. “Come, my Queen, let us say hello to everyone.”

She laced their fingers together and led the way out of the study. And if her family tackled her in their enthusiasm to see her, if no one was surprised by her engagement, if they were happy but not happier without her… well, Zelda never would have dreamed that usurping the throne would lead to practically everything she wanted.

[felixfeliciswriterblog]

Snapetober 2020 - Day 18: Falling

This was inspired by my main Snape x OC Severitus fic. Snape is married to another teacher, Skyrah, who also happens to be Voldie’s daughter.

Notes: references to sex. This isn’t a smutty fic though (sorry to disappoint). It’s more of a rom-com, angst mix.

Length: 2849 words.

SEVERUS SNAPE AND THE VARIOUS ARTS OF FALLING

Severus was sitting on the leather armchair opposite Minerva’s, separated by a circular table. On it, there was a chess set, a bowl filled with Honeydukes’s toffee and two cups of tea. The players had gathered a small fan club that showed so much interest one would think the final Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch Cup match was taking place, rather than a regular wizard’s chess match.

“Severus will win,” said Filius, standing on a stack of books.

“It wouldn’t be the first time Minerva’s beaten him when all hope seemed lost,” countered Albus.

Skyrah didn’t agree nor disagree with either of them. Her eyes were focused on the position of the pieces, envisioning possible moves and its consequences. She barely heard her husband teasing Minerva, with that arrogant expression and matching tone of voice.

“I’m afraid you’re losing your touch. Your mind used to be sharper.”

“You all used to be quieter, too,” snapped Minerva. “It’s impossible to concentrate.”

Her excuses amused Severus, who took his mug to take a sip and, thus, hide his smirk. It didn’t hide the shrewd glint of his eyes. His face, however, creased into a deepening frown when he saw Skyrah whispering to Minerva.

“But why would I–”

“Trust me, Minerva. I’ve watched Severus play against Harry before. I know his weaknesses.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at Skyrah. “Have you just told my opponent what to do?”

A cheeky grin was the answer he got. The more Severus stared at her, the more the grin broadened as if her lips had touched some swelling solution. Insufferable witch.

“If you heed my wife’s advice, you’ll be cheating,” he said, eyeing Minerva. “You wouldn’t go against the values of your ‘noble’ House, would you?”

“Considering you spent almost ten minutes discussing a move with Filius, I believe Godric Gryffindor himself would allow me to ‘cheat’, as you put it.”

“I didn’t follow his advice in the end.”

“It still wasn’t fair play. I’m entitled to listen to Skyrah. Bishop to C4.”

The men in the room were left with identical puzzled faces as the piece advanced.

“Bishop to C4? I had figured you would have seen that was exactly what I wanted you to do. It doesn’t benefit you. In fact, it brings me closer to victory,” said Severus matter-of-factly, looking at Skyrah in search of answers.

He had never played against her. She preferred to watch him and Harry and offer the boy some advice when it was clear he was stuck. Since Harry’s skills couldn’t compare to Severus’s, he allowed it. With that said, the advice Skyrah offered Harry was certainly wiser than the advice she had just offered Minerva. It could only mean she was pretending to help Minerva while silently teaming up with him, couldn’t it? Not that insufferable, after all. 

“Your turn, Severus,” replied Minerva, grinning so slyly one would think she had more Slytherin in her than she let on, when, in truth, she was utterly confused and had simply pinned her faith on Skyrah. 

If Severus hadn’t been a Slytherin himself, he would have believed her confidence. He saw straight through her, though. Yes, Minerva, trust my wife, Severus thought with a crooked smile, taking another sip.

“King to B5.”

Minerva resisted the urge to cover her eyes, already picturing one of the black pieces kicking off her white king like the black king was doing with her bishop. She regarded the remaining pieces and took a sip herself, hoping they wouldn’t notice how nervous she was getting. Severus beat her the last time they played. Another defeat wouldn’t do her reputation as a chess player good.

“Bishop to…” Minerva trailed off, seeing Skyrah was subtly shaking her head. “Pawn…” She received a nod and watched as Skyrah made a C-shape with her fingers, only to dissimulate by tucking a lock of hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear. “To C...” Skyrah adjusted one of her shirt cuffs visible under her outer robes, holding out four fingers in the process. “Four. Pawn to C4.”

“What in Salazar Slytherin’s name…” started Severus. It hadn’t escaped him that Minerva was nodding her thanks at Skyrah. Advice on one move, he could tolerate. Two moves, though? Even if she intended to secretly help him by misleading Minerva, he wanted to win by himself. He didn’t fancy his wife intervening more than necessary. “Skyrah, if you are so keen on chess, we can play later. This is between Minerva and me.”

Skyrah raised an eyebrow at him. “Afraid you’ll lose if I help her out?”

“Not at all. Minerva and I began the match. We should finish it,” he said, ignoring her question on purpose.

“And you will… with some help. Filius appears as excited as me to join the match. What do you say?”

“I’m in,” said Filius, not waiting for Severus’s opinion.

“It’d be the fairest solution, Severus, considering you and Filius have already acted as a team. The same can be said about Minerva and Skyrah,” Albus approved, putting a toffee into his mouth.

It wasn’t like Severus could say no to the headmaster. He grunted, and sneered, and inwardly cursed Skyrah for being so charmingly meddlesome, and the rest for accommodating her. After discussing with Filius, Severus ordered the king to kick off the other bishop and grinned triumphantly. Minerva had already lost three turns ago. Now she would move her pawn and it would give him and Filius the chance to checkmate.

Or so they had assumed until Skyrah spoke.

“Queen to B3.”

Filius gaped. 

Albus clapped. 

Minerva almost bounced in her seat.

Severus stared at the chessboard unblinkingly. Skyrah’s been playing against me all this time. 

“I didn’t see that one coming.”

“Obviously, Filius, neither of us did, or else we wouldn’t be facing our upcoming defeat,” hissed Severus. It was a good thing the Hogwarts staff was used to his temper. 

“There must be a way to get out of this one,” insisted Filius, touching his beard pensively.

Amused, Albus unwrapped a second toffee and said, “I’ll be greatly surprised if you do.”

Fortunately for Albus, looks, however deadly they looked, couldn’t kill. Otherwise, Filius and Severus would have finished him off already.

The men’s team began discussing possible strategies in vain. The more the minutes ticked by, the more frustrated Filius got. Severus should have been as annoyed as him. He was, at first, but then he realized how brilliant Skyrah’s initial advice to Minerva had been, letting him think his victory was nigh and even helping him achieve it when, in reality, Skyrah had forged an alliance with Minerva and was already thinking ahead and taking advantage of his overconfidence. He banished his feeling of irritation to the point he couldn’t help but stare at her and her self-satisfied smirk in silent admiration, with his mouth half-open, threatening to curve into something akin to a smile. 

“They’ve won. We can only move the king to A5,” concluded Filius, getting a distracted nod from Severus, who was too busy thinking about how kissable Skyrah’s lips looked, wondering if a kiss from her would taste of toffee. Had Albus been the only one to eat some?

“Queen to B5. Checkmate,” concluded Minerva.

Accepting defeat, Filius shook hands with both witches and congratulated them on the entertaining match. Albus did the same. 

“You didn’t tell us you play chess, Skyrah,” he added.

“I don’t often play it. Even as a kid, I preferred exploding snap. That doesn’t mean I’m bad at it.”

“That is evident,” claimed Filius. “Queen to B3. Magnificent. Simply magnificent!”

“Is Severus okay?” asked Minerva.

Simultaneously, their heads turned to him. He was still wearing that awe-struck expression on his face. Skyrah had seen it on him on numerous occasions. 

When she put her hand on his cheek on their wedding night, and kissed it.

That one time she pretended she hadn’t become aware of his presence while she sang to herself in their garden in Cokeworth.

When she gave him and Harry a small History lecture while visiting a muggle museum.

After he made her laugh with his sarcastic sense of humor.

The few first seconds after discovering her patronus matched his.

In the afterglow of sex.

It was the first time that he looked at her like that in front of his colleagues.

“I thought you’d take it badly,” she said, approaching him.

“Mmh?”

“Your defeat.”

“Ahh… Yes. Me too,” he admitted, back to his senses. Out of embarrassment, he didn’t even glimpse at Filius, Minerva and Albus.

“So you aren’t angry even if I took Minerva’s side?”

“No, although I am confused,” he admitted, rising from his seat. “What, pray tell, motivated you to do such a thing? I had figured you’d choose to be part of my team, considering you took my surname. I thought you had until it was too late.”

“I wanted to get even, childish as it may sound.”

“Whatever for?”

“This morning you took the last brownie we baked,” she reminded him, poking his chest for emphasis.

“Allow me to object to your statement. Reading the recipe the house-elves lent you plus measuring the ingredients hardly counts as anything remotely close to baking.”

Nor did the stolen kisses and teasing touches he received throughout the baking process. Not that he’d say that out loud.

“It was the first time I attempted to make brownies. I didn’t want to spoil them.”

“You two made brownies?” asked Minerva, covering her mouth to hide her smile.

Albus and Filius appeared intrigued and surprised respectively.

“Is it funny?” asked Severus in a tone that told her it wasn’t the time to tease him.

“We would have never guessed you have a sweet tooth,” Filius answered for her.

“My wife does.”

“Nonetheless, you ate the last brownie,” Albus pointed out, eyes twinkling.

“I swear by the four Hogwarts founders, if any of you tells our colleagues, or Merlin forbid, a student, I will–”

“Oi, Severus! Don’t finish that sentence. Your reputation will remain intact,” Skyrah assured him. “If you ask them kindly, they won’t tell because they respect you. Besides, nobody would believe them even if they swore on it.”

That, fortunately, was the truth. Filius, Minerva and Albus still got a menacing look from Severus. Skyrah put her hand on his cheek to stroke it and draw his attention back to her. 

“It’s a pity you aren’t in the slightest mad at me,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. “I really enjoyed myself that time we had angry sex. I was hoping to repeat it.”

Oh, Circe. Yes. He had enjoyed himself too. A lot. The make-up sex that had followed had been glorious as well. At the memory alone, he had to bite his lip to hold back a faint moan. But then he remembered they were being observed and had to overcome his urge to laugh at himself. By Merlin! He had just fallen into her trap. The chess match had never mattered. She had only cared about him later making her scream his name in pleasure while she scratched his back with her nails and he gripped her hips almost painfully. Her Horned Serpent Slytherin mind never failed to surprise him. He found the way it operated so fascinating that he was starting to feel as giddy as if he’d just had two glasses of Superior Red, the kind of wine Lucius liked to serve.

Her master plan had failed, though, for rather than having angry sex he felt like meticulously worshipping all her body. He wanted to take his time, be gentle and caring and vulnerable with her, touch her heart and soul, and pleasure her until she was physically drained. He would make her fall in love with him all over again as she was doing to him with that smug grin of hers he so craved to wipe off her face with a long kiss.

Before he could reply, she added, “I have to go to my office now.”

“Why? You finished planning next week's lessons before having lunch. I thought we could go to our quarters and… relax.”

“I’d love to, but Fred and George Weasley were prowling along the corridors past curfew last night, plotting only-Merlin-knows-what. I had to put them in detention. I’ll meet you in our quarters in about an hour and a half, all right?” His ears, covered by his hair, began to blaze after she sealed the deal with a kiss on the tip of his hooked nose. “I love you, even if you eat my brownies.”

“Our brownies.”

“A-ha! You admit it! I also participated.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You still tolerate me quite well.”

His heart stopped beating for a moment. Once again, he was amazed by her, hypnotized by the way she teased him and joked with him and beamed at him. She gave his cheek a final caress and nodded at Filius, Minerva and Albus as a goodbye, promising to play chess with them more often.

If she had looked back before shutting the door, she’d have caught Severus bringing his hand to the place her palm had been, with the silliest grin Albus, Minerva and Filius had ever seen on his face, exhibiting his uneven teeth. 

“He reminds me of someone...” murmured Minerva low enough Severus wouldn’t hear her. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had been louder. He was unaware of anything other than his fantasies, some of which were more innocent than others, and his racing heartbeat. “Have you caught sight of Mr. Longbottom drooling over Ms. Lovegood in the Great Hall lately?”

Filius snickered.

Holding a laugh back himself, Albus advised, “Don’t let Severus hear that comparison, Minerva.”

It wasn’t until Filius and Minerva left the teachers’ room – the former under the petition of a Prefect and the latter to grade a pile of assignments – that Albus put a hand on Severus’s shoulder, bringing him back to reality.

“You are falling in love. Terribly fast. Deeply.” Severus opened his mouth, to say what, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like denying the truth worked when Albus was involved. Anyway, Albus interrupted him before Severus could defend himself, his tone nostalgic, “It is an exhilarating feeling, isn’t it? I am happy for you.”

“...However?”

“You are playing a dangerous game, one more complicated than wizard’s chess, with rules imposed by her father. He didn’t choose you as her spouse for you to love her. In fact, I dare say it was for the contrary.”

“What do you suggest? I can’t stop myself from feeling what I feel for her.” In a lower voice, he confessed, “I don’t want to. I’ve never felt so… alive.”

“I would never ask you to stop loving someone. I’m asking you to be extra-careful during Death Eater meetings. The smallest mistake could give you away. It would put you both in peril.”

Severus gulped, his mouth suddenly dry. What kind of torment would Voldemort put them through if he decided that Severus wasn’t adequate for Skyrah anymore? Severus could very well suffer Skyrah’s ex-fiancé’s fate: death. Or worse. Voldemort could spare his life if he had other plans for him, and Severus would have to see how Voldemort forced his daughter to marry a fiercely loyal Death Eater and ask them to deliver him an heir. The thought alone sickened Severus.

“The Dark Lord doesn’t suspect us. He never will. Skyrah and I are adept at Occlumency and know what is at stake. We play our roles well.”

“I trust you,” assured Albus, squeezing his shoulder. “I know you will do the right thing. The wizarding world depends on you, the world in which you will rear your future child.” 

Severus shut his eyes momentarily, getting a sudden flashback to the morning he swore he’d make sure their baby girl grew up in a safe world, only to lose her that same day. It still hurt. They hadn’t really tried conceiving ever since. Not yet. They were too afraid of going through something similar while still grieving the daughter they would never hold.

“I fear Tom may start thinking you are testing his patience. It’s been about six months since you got married,” continued Albus. “Poppy could run fertility tests on you and Skyrah to make sure you aren’t unsuited to the task you must fulfill.”

“My wife and I are perfectly capable of conceiving a child. We only require more time.” Albus stared at him as if he intuited there was something Severus was keeping secret. “If that is all, I’ll go to the Greenhouses. Pomona mentioned she has herbs that the students could use in Potions class.”

Albus nodded and watched as Severus headed for the exit.

“Severus, one last thing.” With a lifted eyebrow, he turned to face Albus. “I expect you to save me a brownie the next time you and Skyrah decide to make some. I’m sure Minerva and Filius would appreciate it, as well. Christmas is around the corner...”

.............................................................................................................................

A/N: I probably wouldn’t have been able to post this on time if it had been betaed, so I apologize for any possible mistakes you may have encountered. I did my best.

If you liked it, you can read the main fic here: AO3, FFN.

Have a nice day, y’all! And thanks for taking the time to read this little fic :)

[sixth-light]

Chekhov’s Garden Shed

For the last four or five years, the RoL fandom has had a masterpost of Chekhov’s guns/unanswered questions from the series – the last version, with links to the original, can be found here. Past contributors include @deviantaccumulation, @the-high-meggas, @maple-clef, @uncommonsockeater​, and @flannelgiraffe, as well as others who I have doubtless forgotten. [If that’s you or someone you know, please speak up!]

Ben Aaronovitch has indicated that he views the various open questions of the series as less of a set of ‘guns on the mantelpiece’ (which must be taken down and fired before the series is finished) and more a ‘garden shed’ of things he thinks might be useful one day but could also end up rusting in the back after getting buried under other things. The fun is finding out which is which. (Thanks to @ilikesallydonovan for originally reporting this and chasing down the link!)

So, without further ado, here is the renamed Chekhov’s Garden Shed Of Stuff That Might Come Back Later. It’s separated into Answered Questions, Partially-Answered Questions, and Things Still Buried At The Back Of The Shed. I enthusiastically welcome comments, corrections, and missing items. Contains spoilers for all published RoL-related material including the novellas, comics, online snippets, and interviews with the author. A mirror of this version can be found at Dreamwidth – I will try and keep it updated as I update this one.

ANSWERED QUESTIONS:

·        What the fox said to Abigail in WuG It was warning her about Chorley’s involvement with/interest in Skygarden. 

·        Peter’s father needs a few thousand for dental work; his mum is very keen to get the money so that he might re-launch his career. They’ve already done a gig (beaucoup money) for Ty. Will this be a vulnerability for Peter at some point? Apparently not; his dad’s band do regular gigs for the demi-monde, his dad has his new teeth, and Ty doesn’t seem to have been involved at all. Peter just has to live with his parents being better-informed about his work and new world than he might like! 

·        Will we see Awa Shambir again? Her of the suspiciously expensive hijab to be cleaning the offices (of a front organisation for an evil wizard) in… Goodbye Awa Shambir the Somali cleaning lady, hello Lady Caroline Elizabeth Louise Linden-Limmer, surreptitiously aerial scion of nobility. 

·        What was Molly doing in the tech cave? Is she on facebook/twitter/tumblr/a cooking forum? Looking up recipes? Has she discovered online shopping? Molly is active on Twitter gossiping and swapping recipes; it’s not a secret from either Peter or Nightingale, they just pretend not to know. 

·        Is that watch Nightingale gave Peter going to have any future relevance? Peter and Caroline had a watch-off in The Hanging Tree which Peter won, and the practitioner habit of wearing mechanical (and hideously expensive) watches enabled Peter to identify Chorley as the Faceless Man. 

·        Who is Mr. Nolfi’s mother? Where did she learn magic? and Have any other Newtonian wizards continued to practice in secret and/or trained apprentices in other parts of the country, without telling Nightingale? (Broader: was Nightingale mostly wrong about being the last wizard in Britain or really, totally, 100% wrong?) and What about the “female affiliates” of the Little Crocodiles? and How many wizards did Wheatcroft actually train and where are they now? Most of an answer to all of these: there’s a long-standing tradition of women practicing and teaching each other Newtonian magic dating back to before the founding of the official Folly. Mr Nolfi’s mother and the ‘female affiliates’ of the Little Crocodiles could well have come from this tradition. And Nightingale was totally utterly wrong about being the last wizard in Britain. Practitioners exist trained by ‘hedge’ wizards and witches, trained by Little Crocodiles, immigrated and bringing other traditions with them…that cat is not only out of the bag, it was never even in it. C.f. Patrick Gale and co. in Detective Stories and Lies Sleeping. However, many Little Crocodiles never really learned magic at all, or managed to brush it off after university as unimportant – unfortunately for them, Martin Chorley targeted them as tools and bait.

PARTIALLY-ANSWERED QUESTIONS:

·        What happened at Ettersberg that caused magic to disappear? Answered in various interviews: magic didn’t disappear at Ettersberg as an objective thing, but a lot of practitioners were wiped out by the war and the Nazis, as well as a lot of genii locorum and other fae and magical people. Nightingale over-indexed on this because he was depressed and traumatised, and the magic ‘coming back’ is a combination of a new generation of gods, fae, and practitioners growing up, and Nightingale noticing the ones who were there all along.

·        Where are the notes Peter was promised? Peter has a deal with Nightingale about getting questions answered in return for magical progress; we haven’t seen him look at any old wizard’s notes specifically but he doesn’t seem to be waiting on them. 

·        What was Nightingale doing in the 70s that he managed to miss the original FM’s adventure in Soho? Working with the Met, apparently - he was called in when Woodville-Gentle got his at Lady Helena’s hands, but too late to determine whether it was magic. Seems like he just wasn’t paying enough attention to what was going on around him!

·        What was Peter doing after he left school and while he was a PCSO? Why did he have problems during his A levels? Why did he join the police? Peter flatted and worked retail for a while after he left school (possibly while he was at school, too). We still don’t know what happened with his A-levels or what led him to join the police. 

·        Outwith the Met, does the Folly answer to the Home Office (or higher)? There are hints at that (cf. Walid in RoL), but nothing more and Who is Nightingale’s boss/who does Postmartin send his files to?  No direct answer to who they answer to beyond what we already knew, but we learn in THT that they have their own source of funding and aren’t an official part of the Met. Nightingale does not appear to have any direct supervisor beyond the Commissioner (or presumably they would have been informed/called when he was kidnapped in Night Witch). 

·        How do “Hedge Witches” practise magic; how does it differ from formal Newtonian magic and will we get to meet any? Are “Hedge Wizards” simply rusticated Newtonian wizards, or do they also have informally-developed skillz? Per the one we meet in Black Mould: hedge witches and wizards have informally-developed skills rather than just being rusticated Folly wizards, but how close their magic is to the style Peter is learning, it’s hard to say (because it was a comic.) Others are probably from the female tradition, ex-Newtonian wizards, etc – it’s a mixed group.

·        How old is Postmartin, exactly (Peter thinks he looks older and frailer than his Dad, who’s in his 70s, but that’s just his guess)? How did he get that job, and is he ‘just’ a civilian affiliate, like Walid, or something else? Who does he answer to, and what happens if/when he needs replacing? What’s his twitter handle?! Postmartin served during the Korean War, so must have been born between 1928 and 1936 (per @sparrow-wings) - he’s currently in his 80s, as it’s late 2015 in current book time. His Twitter handle might be “dyingforafag” (who Molly is chatting to in Body Work). 

·        What sort of experiments were the Nazis doing with vampires? (Do we want to know? Proooooooooooobably not.) and Can the Rivers be killed, if they’re badly injured enough far enough away from their river? What happens then? We found out in Lies Sleeping you can use ‘tinned vampires’ to kill and hurt genii locorum and discomfit practitioners, so that’s…you know…fine. Rivers can definitely be killed in general, c.f. the former Lugg whom the Methodists got to. It’s only functional immortality.

·        What’s the deal with Mr. Punch when Peter’s leaving London at the beginning of Foxglove Summer? Is he coming back? Is it only Peter who senses him? If so, why? and How are Lesley and Punch connected? And What powers does Lesley have now aside from face-changing, if any? Martin Chorley was trying to murder Punch, who was a god of chaos and vengeance, in order to 1) gain magical power 2) ????? 3) glorious white supremacy. Lesley agreed to help Chorley to get back at Punch, but may still have some connection to him, having survived possession by him; she certainly has magical powers of her own now, being able to change her face at will. They wanted Punch powered up so he’d be a better source of magic when taken down. Punch was still pinned to London Bridge, but was freed by Peter. He can be talked down by his daughter Walbrook, but for better or worse, he’s out and a player in London’s magical ecosystem. Let’s hope Peter’s right and he plays an important role in it.  

·        How and why did Isis become immortal, since just marrying a River doesn’t appear to do the trick? Kelly tells Tobi Winter in The October Man that sometimes the partners/spouses/better halves of Rivers do just pick up immortality, although even she as an elder River doesn’t know exactly how or why that happens. Probably it’s what happened to Isis. Why it hasn’t happened to George McAlister is an open question.

·        What does it mean that Michael Cheung is ‘the new guy in Chinatown’? and Is there something going on with Guleed (PLEASE NO) or is she just picking up things about the demi-monde via her friendship with Bev (…and others)? Michael Cheung is the latest of a long line of people who have responsibility for any magical shenanigans in London’s Chinatown, so 1) the Folly/Nightingale don’t have to worry about it and 2) Chinatown doesn’t have to be offended by their attempts to worry about it. He’s dating Guleed and teaching her cool martial arts magic. Whether she has other demi-monde contacts is not yet clear.

·        Who is Chorley’s mole within the Met?  Probably not Seawoll, Stephanopoulos, Richard Folsom, Guleed, or Carey, due to the security practices put in place during Operation Jennifer. But if not any of them….then who?

·        How/why the fox knows about [Skygarden and Chorley], (and why it would tell Abigail) According to Abigail, the talking foxes view themselves as secret agents, and someone like Chorley would naturally draw their attention. Why they do so and who they think they should be reporting to is still unclear (but may be elucidated in the Abigail novella).

STILL BURIED IN THE SHED SOMEWHERE:

·        What about the paintings of Molly and a blue-eyed elderly man who looks like Nightingale that Peter found in the coach house?

·        Are there really werewolves or just creepy magic trackers called werewolves? (I’m waiting for them to turn up.)

·        Why does Fleet have a captain of dogs? What do her dogs do? (Is this related to the werewolves? Were-dogs?)

·        What’s the actual connection between Wheatcroft, FM1 (Woodville-Gentle, if that’s him) and FM2? Did he train them both, or did W-G train FM2? NB: Unlikely to be directly answered now Chorley is dead.

·        What’s up with Abigail’s apparently useless protection charm?

·        Is there a special reason that Nightingale is called The Nightingale? (+ is he strong/good at magic because of hard work or something else.)

·        People I’d like to know more about: Nightingale’s uncle, David Mellenby, Nightingale’s family.

·        How much do senior officers in the Met really know about the Folly/Nightingale/magic? Is it well-known that Nightingale has been running the Folly since the 1940s?

·        How did Nightingale learn the language Father Thames speaks?

·        How much does Nightingale and/or Walid know/suspect about the deaging thing? How much of this aren’t he/they telling Peter?

·        How did Walid and Nightingale meet?

·        Are there aliens?

·        Was the 1911 decrease of odd magical activity in Herefordshire linked to Molly?

·        Why does Seawoll dislike Nightingale so viscerally?

·        Did Peter really drop architecture because of his draughtsmanship or was it something else? Is it related to why his chemistry teacher wrote that letter to the newspaper?

·        How active is the ex-wizard grapevine, really? Is the FM connected to it at all?

·        What was the Faceless Man actually planning on doing with his Crossrail lair? Why build it so close to the Folly?

·        What happens if one river tries to userp, unseat or in any way properly fight another? Are the results ‘mythic’?

·        Was Emma Wall really a waste of space? As a character she is a bit of a smoking gun - red herring, or something else? She was living next door to our two, and *in* one of the flats where… stuff was being put. Any happily waltzed out on d-day. Peter never really got a chance to speak to her - but Lesley did, and was the one to dismiss her from suspicion. Which is suspicious (to me)!

·        Although we found out after that he’s been around for much longer, Nightingale said that Father Thames was definitely the same person in 1914. So presumably they met then… In what circumstances?

·        Are fae genetically different to other humans? Are they human? What about changelings (like Zoe in FS) - and will she get in contact with Dr Walid? NB: Dr Vaughan is getting some genomes sequenced, so answers to this question may be forthcoming....

·        What did Lesley say to her family about what happened to her face? Do they know about magic?

·        Just how much of an age gap is there between Peter’s parents?

·        Why did the Virtuous Men blame the British for Ettersberg? What was the agreement between them that Nightingale was referring to?

·        Postmartin made a show of wanting to get Peter alone to have a ”big” talk with him. Yet, the discussion we, the readers have witnessed was relatively small. Nightingale only arrived to The Eagle and the Child an hour later. What was said between Postmartin and Peter in the meantime?

·        Peter’s narration at certain points (like Chapter 14 in Moon Over Soho) waivers between past and present tense, and he is occasionally referring to events in (presumably) later books. Just what point in the future is Peter actually narrating these books?

·        When Nightingale got an infection in MoS, how did Walid know? Did Molly phone him and do her Nightingale’s being an idiot silence, or was he just visiting anyway?

·        What does Molly do on her days off?

·        When Nightingale doesn’t go to Peter’s parents’ for Christmas, did his not wanting to leave Molly excuse have any truth to it, or did he just say that so Peter didn’t realise that Nightingale planned to work (and so Peter didn’t feel he should be missing his own Christmas to help)/ he had a reasonable excuse to not go to Peter’s family’s Christmas celebrations?

·        (tongue-in-cheek) What would have happened if Peter and Lesley had given Molly a Heston Blumenthal cookbook?

·        What’s the deal with Lady Helena (and Caroline) - are they connected to Chorley and/or Lesley’s face being healed?

·        What does Caroline want to escape from? What was she doing posing as a cleaning lady at the County Gard offices? 

·        What do the Virginian Gentlemen want, and how connected are they with the American government?

·        What’s their specific definition of a ‘shade’? 

·        When and how did MI5 learn about magic, and do they have any practitioners of their own?

·        Was Christina Chorley a practitioner, possessed, or something else? 

·        Who sold and bought Molly, Foxglove, 'Charlotte' (the Pale Nanny), and 'Alice' (the Pale Lady)? Where were Foxglove, Charlotte, and Alice before they were put in the oubliette and rescued by Woodville-Gentle and then Chorley? Where is the fifth girl who was with them before they were split up?

·        Is it important that Walbrook is also Isis of London? Are there any other Isis-figures in the UK and Europe (aside from Isis who is married to Oxley, and is probably an Isis of Oxford?)

·        Are there any other non-Mama-Thames tidal Rivers? What exactly is Lea’s relationship with Mama Thames, as they see it?

·        What WAS Chorley's master plan, aside from ‘become Merlin, Profit!’?

·        How is the Difference Engine linked to magic, and why? NB: May be answered in ‘False Value’, which is about computing to some degree

·        Who or what is killing talking foxes (as Peter discovers in The Furthest Station)? Why?