#so he has to drop Marianne who he is actually engaged to be married to and isn’t just dating

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #50

[mermaidsirennikita]

Caro's April 2023 Book Recs

Another month, another book roundup. I will say I focused a bit more on exploring new subgenres this month, so not as many historicals here--I'm *hoping* to knock out some books I've been meaning to knock out for a while when I'm on vacation. My tentative rule is "no ARCs and no KU"--because those have for sure been jumping the line in front of books I've had on my TBR for a while.

But honestly, I believe it's kind of impossible to stay engaged with a genre when you only read one subgenre, so I've been enjoying authors like Adriana Anders and Sara Cate quite a bit, while also discovering new to me authors like Caroline Linden and Cate C. Wells and debuts like Lana Ferguson. Much productiveness here, I'd say.

Her Wanton Wager by Grace Callaway. "Percy" Persephone Fines vows to become a lady in order to fulfill her family's dreams and marry a peer. But her goals become more difficult to achieve when her brother loses a bet to Gavin Hunt, owing him everything. Interceding on her brother's behalf, Percy makes a deal with Gavin--she'll meet with him seven times. If she resists him by the end of those meetings, the debt will be dropped. If she gives her virginity to Gavin, he'll collect on the debt. What Percy doesn't know is that her brother falling prey to Gavin is no coincidence...

Another fun Grace Callaway book--though I will say, I do like the later books I've read by her more than these early novels (which is a good thing, she's clearly grown and evolved a lot). The setup isn't super crazy: it's a revenge plot with an intrepid innocent heroine and a big, bad man. I found Gavin a lot more compelling than Percy, but that's consistent with my likes. The romance was cute, the sex was good, I wasn't blown away but I had fun.

Praise by Sara Cate. Following a bad breakup, 21-year-old Charlie heads over to her ex's dad's place to pick up her half of a deposit. The catch: Beau's dad, Emerson, is much more attractive than she expected. And he thinks she's one of the women sent to "audition" to be his secretary... which would entail being his submissive, as well. Charlie immediately responds to Emerson's praise and soft dominance; and though he offers her a real job--he has a kink club to open, after all--he refuses to give in their mutual attraction. At first.

Here's the thing: the plot of Praise is not dense. Girl with daddy issues becomes the submissive to her ex's hot dad, who is a partial owner of a kink club, and they do stuff in secret while agonizing over what would happen if his son found out. But the character work? Is really good. Sara Cate deftly milks the tension of the story for all its worth, while also delving into the shame surrounding kinks. While also giving you a really good, fun time. I found it to be a really romantic, lovely, kinda dirty love story.

The Boxing Baroness by Minerva Spencer. Marianne Simpson has made a name for himself as a "lady boxer" in her uncle's circus. But she's thrown off guard when she's approach by Duke St. John Powell--"Sin"--who needs her help to find his brother... by way of locating Marianne's ex-lover, the man who deceived and abandoned her. Sin isn't above blackmailing Marianne, which means their journey isn't off to a good start. Yet the more time they spend with each other, the harder it becomes for them to resist their attraction to each other.

This book takes MANY twists and turns. It's long--maybe a bit too long, but I still enjoyed it--and you get everything from circus boxing to a crazy journey across Europe that culminates in one of the wildest "real historical figures? in my romance?" moments I've read. The sexual tension crackles, the duke is a good mixture of douchebag and actually quite sweet, and the heroine is a fun, brash babe. Was there a LOT happening? Yes. But it was a romp, and it snatched the moments it needed to. Always.

Eyes On Me by Sara Cate. Garrett is part-owner of a sex club; but he hasn't had sex in ten years. He prefers to watch--which leads him to look for new ideas on a cam site. The surprise? His stepsister Mia--who he's always thought of as an annoying pest--is on the site. And she's good at her job. While masquerading as a client online, a guilty Garrett can't resist interacting with Mia in person--and what if his attraction is more than skin deep? What if he does actually like this grown-up Mia? And what if he's been exactly who she's wanted for years...

This was... a lot. In terms of emotion and sex. Mia and Garrett aren't just stepsiblings--they've been stepsiblings since she was eight and he was twenty-one, which the book seems to think isn't that big a deal because they didn't grow up together... But in reality, Garrett didn't grow up with Mia. Mia very much grew up with Garrett as a fixture in her life, and she's somewhat obsessed with him. That might skeeve some out, and if so, I get it, but--I... have softer limits as a reader. I loved the taboo of Garrett and Mia's relationship, how guilty he felt as they talked, how dirty the book got. There was a late stage element I wasn't as certain on, but it didn't stop me from loving the book. I'd say that this is hotter than Praise, but the relationship development of Praise is probably a little better--but again, I loved this. And if you're looking for some voyeurism in your romance... this is it. It's hot.

King's Captive by Amber A. Bardan. On her eighteenth birthday, Sarah watches as her entire family--save her little brother--is killed by the mysterious Julius King. Three years later, she's been living on Julius's private island, untouched and perfectly cared for--and one month away from the day on which she agreed to marry Julius. She has no idea what his motives are, or why she's oddly attracted to him. But Sarah isn't giving up without a fight, and she'll do anything to escape Julius's clutches.

As I continue my foray into dark romance... I'm kinda living? This book was fast-paced, crazy, incredibly hot, and somehow super romantic? There is, obviously, a lot more to Julius than Sarah realizes. But well before those realizations, you get that delicious sense of a man with coiled energy, desperate to have this woman yet unable to make his move. The degree to which Julius longs for Sarah while still having this sense of true menace and danger is incredible, and adds to the romance of the story. It's wild, and I personally adored it.

Run Posy Run. Posy Santoro is more loyal gangster's kept woman than mafia princess, and she's happy to be at the beck and call of her boyfriend, mafioso mastermind Dario Volpe--even if they don't emotionally connect. After all, Dario doesn't show emotion to anyone. Not until a video gets passed around his inner circles. A video he was never supposed to see; a video that's been used to make him think Posy did the unthinkable. Posy hasn't just been abandoned by Dario--she's running from him.

I've always been skeptical of this novel, despite the recommendations, because I felt like the premise would be tough for me to get over. Mafioso sees video of girlfriend with her ex and sets out to kill her in a jealous rage. Except... it's not that. For one thing, the fact that Dario gets mad about anything related to Posy is your first clue that he does care about her, as he's basically a sociopath. For another, the video has been doctored to make it look like she's cheating, which, justified or not, would be truly insane considering his power. Also... Dario isn't the one after her. At. First. With all that in mind, this is a fucking ride of a book, and I had a great time. It's about a relationship that was never what either of the people involved thought it was, which is a truly interesting take in romance. It's about falling in love after being committed for a long time--and it's about falling in love when you think you aren't even capable of it. Posy is such a unique heroine, a woman who's been raised to be on someone's arm and must actually work to find herself. And Dario's slow realization that... shit, he loves this woman, is DELICIOUS. Very good.

A Lady of Rooksgrave Manor by Kathryn Moon. After she's caught spying on her employer in the act, maidservsant Esther is offered a position at a particularly unique establishment. At Rooksgrave Manor, she'll serve men--multiple men--of a certain... background. Monstrous men, perhaps. And she'll do so happily.

So this was historical erotic monster romance, and I'm happy with that. It's not straight up erotica; there is a plot beyond the sex, and Moon does a very good job with establishing genuine connections between Esther and her men (and the men themselves, amongst each other--in all ways, at times). But Esther does have... depending on how you look at it, five or six partners. And those are partners for whom she has real feelings, and with whom she has a lot of sex. If you're not down, cool, but I found it very fun. The sex in this book? Fab.

A Long Time Dead by Samara Breger. ARC; read the full review here.

What A Gentleman Wants by Caroline Linden. When rake David Reece is sent away by his stern identical (and ducal) twin, he ends up breaking his leg and being nursed back to health by sensible vicar's widow Hannah. Charmed by Hannah and the idea of a reformed life, David proposes a marriage of convenience, which she accepts for the sake of her daughter... Only for David to get cold feet and forge his brother's signature on the marriage license. Now Hannah is very accidentally married to Marcus, who's quite a bit colder and more judgmental than David. But Marcus will do anything to avoid scandal--including moving Hannah in with him.

My first Caroline Linden read, and it was a bit zany and a lot sweet. It's a classic "uptight man has life flipped by a headstrong woman and her child" book, though the kid is not annoying. Honestly, the premise was enough to have me listening, and Marcus and Hannah have a slow burn, "grown fucking adults" chemistry that takes a while to boil over, but when it does... it's good. I wasn't blown away, but I enjoyed it a good bit, and the setup for David's book (DAVID. OH MY GOD DUDE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU) was great.

His Study in Scandal by Megan Frampton. ARC; read the full review here.

The Secret Service of Tea and Treason by India Holton. When the Agency of Undercover Note Takers (AUNT) puts their two top agents, Alice Breedlove and Daniel Bixby, together on a crucial mission, it should be a no-brainer. But posing as a married couple is making the cold, removed Agents A and B confront some difficult feelings--which could put not only the assignment, but their lives on the line.

This series has been incredibly fun and romantic--and it's gotten better with each installment. This one may be my favorite--it's between this and the last book. It has all the classic India Holton humor and wit, but Alice and Daniel have both suffered significant trauma, and Alice in particular is deeply scarred. That makes it more difficult for them to admit their feelings, but they just can't resist that sexual tension, and the tension is so! Good! I'm so happy with how this series ended. Give me repressed spies in love forever.

The Dueling Duchess by Minerva Spencer. ARC; read the full review here.

The Nanny by Lana Ferguson. Grad student Cassie needs a job and a place to stay, so she jumps at the chance to get a well-paying live-in nanny gig. The only problem? Aiden, a high profile chef and her new charge's single father, used to a big fan of Cassie's... specifically, when she was a cam girl on OnlyFans. Cassie recognizes Aiden quickly; but he doesn't recognize her. As the tension between them builds, she's torn between honesty and her need to keep her job--and her connections with Aiden and his daughter.

What a good! Look, this book is not super complicated. Both Cassie and Aiden are good people--there are no outright shitheads in this novel. Even the annoying person is just being a flawed, well-meaning human being. The plot is basically two people falling in love with a wrench in the mix by way of boss/employee issues and OF. But the writing is snappy and fun, the leads have great chemistry, the child is actually cute (and doesn't get too much page time), and the sex? Is. Hot. And plentiful! Basically, if you believe in the chemistry, you're going to have fun with this book. I definitely did.

What a Rogue Desires by Caroline Linden. Dissolute rake David Reece is given a chance at responsibility when his twin brother goes on his honeymoon--only for David to lose Marcus's signet ring in a robbery shortly after. That robbery? Was orchestrated by Vivian, a con artist David believed was an innocent widow. Determined to get the ring back, David kidnaps and imprisons Vivian. She's determined to resist his interrogations (among other things). He's determined to prove he's more than the disaster everyone thinks him to be.

It's a bit zany, a bit funny, a lot sexy. Let's call it a lighthearted kidnapping romance. David truly is a flop, while Vivian is smart, scrappy, and resourceful. She pushes him to be better (while also affirming his good qualities), and he offers her affection and gentleness she's really never experienced before. There's a Pretty Woman vibe to the novel, and I enjoyed it greatly. Plus--the sex scenes were REALLY good. Especially the wall one.

Possession by Adriana Anders. Superstar Zion Mason and Hollywood newcomer Twyla Hernandez just entered into a platonic contract marriage for PR--and that PR goodwill implodes when Zion is caught on camera having sex with a woman who looks just like Twyla. Escaping the paparazzi, he goes where he can be himself and explore his desires--Kink Camp. But Twyla--the wife he assumed was innocent and virtuous--isn't going to let Zion go without having her questions answered. And while there, she discovers who her husband really is--and she might like it.

Kink positive and a mixture of marriage of convenience and marriage in trouble. Zion is a classic dom hero, but he's not mean or abusive to Twyla in any way, like so many badly written doms are. He just can't bring himself to be truly vulnerable. Twyla is plus-sized--and Latina!--and presented as confident and sexy, if not without normal insecurities. So fucking refreshing. The found family of the camp is queer (Zion is also queer, by the way) and diverse. A super well done erotic romance.

Give Me More by Sara Cate. Drake and Hunter have been best friends since childhood, and that's continued past them finding success, and past Hunter marrying the woman of his dreams, Isabel--who quickly became Drake's other best friend. The trio are on a roadtrip to check out the competition for Salacious, Hunter's sex-positive club; and in an unexpected turn, Hunter catches Drake and Isabel in a moment that isn't what it looks like. But Hunter likes the idea of what it looks like--and he likes it even more when he convinces Drake and Isabel to have sex while he watches. Even even more when he gets involved. What starts out as fun on the road, however, gets complicated when the three recognize feelings that may have been lurking there for years...

This is a capital B bisexual romance. Nobody goes unloved here, nobody goes less desired. Hunter and Isabel adore each other and have a strong marriage. However, while Drake has been out as bi for years before the book began, Hunter is obviously deeply closeted, even to himself, for realistic (and tough) reasons. What I loved about how Sara Cate did this is that Drake was clearly always a part of this relationship. He was always in love with Hunter (and vice versa), he fell in love with Isabel (and vice versa) as Isabel and Hunter fell in love. The three of them just didn't see what the relationship actually was until it got sexual. There's angst aplenty in this, and Hunter especially deals with a lot of self loathing and sorrow that is difficult to read. But for me, it was worth it, and I really appreciated the blending of heat with emotion here. Not easy to do, but she got it. Maybe the best menage romance I've read so far.

[roc-thoughtblog]

Sense and Sensibility Readthrough Part 21

Chapter 24, Pages 126-131

Previously, Elinor takes some time to think things through, and then decides to have a chat with Lucy about it. Which they are doing, right now, while Marianne plays piano nearby, hopefully loudly and passionately enough that neither she nor also noone else will overhear.

Readthrough below.

Chapter 24

Chat begins! Elinor breaks the ice and reassures Lucy that she has not been offended in any way. That out of the way, they start talking Eddie.

I feel a bit like I'm reading a poker match actually. A lot of poker faces going around and I can't tell who's bluffing or to what exact purpose. I believe Elinor is inviting Lucy to dicuss Edward's fidelity as a fiance, probably to guage how much affection Eddie had felt towards her that Lucy might have noticed. Lucy confesses to being the jealous kind, but firmly asserts her conviction that Edward has not had any faithless thoughts of another person, as surely she would have noticed, given how jealous she is.

I feel like she's bluffing though, or at least, the narrative has been toying enough with the idea that she could be.

Elinor asks Lucy what she'll do about the Mrs. Ferrar's situation, given that Edward is dependent on her inheritance and a marriage to Lucy would throw that into jeopardy; Lucy has no idea for fear of crossing Mrs. Ferrars, apparently of quick temper and conviction. Lucy is really worried for Edward's sake;

"And for your own sake too, or are you carrying your disinterestedness beyond reason." Lucy looked at Elinor again, and was silent.

Ouch. Lucy wants to appear detached so that it seems she's far more attached to Edward than any promise of the money, but Elinor's gone straight for the mask. Either Lucy is more interested in money than she lets on, or she should be because it would be foolish to be otherwise so detached. Drop the mask, or admit to foolishness. A deadly fork. Lucy can't find her response, implicating the mask.

Point to Elinor, if we were scoring points.

Elinor asks Lucy about Robert Ferrars, the brother.

... what is a coxcomb...?

coxcomb (n.)(archaic) a vain and conceited man; a dandy

My, if this is Robert Ferrars then the pattern of contrastive siblings in this story never stops. Well, I guess we already knew Robert and Edward were at two ends of a spectrum.

Well, though, Anne Steele overhears "coxcomb" and the whole card table chimes in, including Mrs. Jennings, so, whoops. And then, of course, Mrs. Jennings starts talking about Elinor's beau, and Anne Steele starts talking about Lucy's beau, and then starts hinting knowingly that both beaux are the one beau, and oh boy the awkward is palpable, poor girls.

Marianne is entirely immune due to her current condition of being in the throes of deep piano. Really this is not at all an ideal situation for Elinor and Lucy and talk with only piano throes for protection, so I guess they're quite desperate.

Anyway with Marianne for cover, Lucy explains her strategy for Edward to Elinor; have him ordained soon, and then have Elinor persuade her brother John Dashwood to set him up in Norland, where the current... church-person? - I'm unclear on church heirarchical titles - is soon to pass on.

Elinor points out that there's nothing she can say to persuade John Dashwood that could not be said by Edward to his sister Fanny, married to John Dashwood. Fanny would not set him up because Fanny would not approve of Lucy, and we've seen before that they will not really get anything from John without Fanny's approval anyway. So that idea's a bit kaput.

... Lucy sighs and asks Elinor again if she and Eddie should just break up. Elinor again refuses to advise her. She is not impartial enough! But she pretends to be impartial.

"'Tis because you are an indifferent person," said Lucy, with some pique, and laying a particular stress on those words, "that your judgement might justly have such weight with me. If you could be supposed to be biased in any respect by your own feelings, your opinion would not be worth having." Elinor thought it wisest to make no answer to this,

... it's Elinor's turn to be silent. Something about "said Lucy, with some pique, and laying particular stress on those words," suggests that Lucy knows exactly what she's trying to do. Trying to entrap Elinor in a position maybe: either confirm that she has personal biases, or be forced to start making up potentially flimsy reasons (on the spot) to not give advice.

Dang, actually, that's really good if calculated, and it reads calculated.

Two points Lucy.

"Shall you be in town this winter?" [...] "Certainly not." "I am sorry for that," returned the other, while her eyes brightened at the information,

Oh. Lucy... >:(

Pleasant pretenses dropped. The Steeles are going to London over winter, Lucy to see Edward, and happy she is that Elinor will not be there.

for nothing had been said on either side to make them dislike each other less than they had done before;

Geez... o__o

and Elinor sat down to the card table with the melancholy persuasion that Edward was not only without affection from the person who was to be his wife; but that he had not even the chance of being tolerably happy in marriage, which sincere affection on her side would have given, for self-interest alone could induce a woman to keep a man to an engagement, of which she seemed so thoroughly aware that he was weary.

Wow, you got all that? Going back, I can see the subtext but I would not have read any of those conclusions with any confidence myself.

So, insincerety/lack of affection from Lucy: the ease with which she looks for advice on breaking up if the prospects of securing a livelihood are too little. Self-interest: that "Lucy was silent" moment when Elinor traps her about acting too disinterested in the money.

I guess going the other way, with her silence on giving any breakup advice, Lucy can now basically rest assured that Elinor is basically going to raise no fingers at all to defend her own interest in Edward Ferrars. Welp.

Come to think of it, Elinor already knew the “asking for breakup advice thing” was insincere anyway. She still outmaneuvered though.

So now Elinor no longer wants to talk about this ever again, Lucy wants to talk about it all the time, maybe even to rub Elinor's face in it, and the Steeles stay in Barton Park for like 2 months longer than initially supposed. Poor Elinor.

Welp.

That sure was a chapter, of a singular, very intense discussion. Almost a fight really. Like cold war. No weapons drawn or claws come out or gloves taken off, but definitely... hostile beneath calm surfaces. Lucy and Elinor are definitely not friends, not friends at all. I am admittedly disappointed, because I like friendships, but this will still do. Lucy is very much a conniver and schemer, and probably a little cruel. I guess I shall have to retract my hopes for Lucy being innocently nice...

At some point I think I would like to read a warm love triangle where everything works out positively and agreeably from beginning to end. Well, I already have, so I guess this is just more a general statement that like the positive ones more than the hostile ones.

[trying-write-fanfics]

AsheXReader the price of war pt 2

Authors note/ sorry this took so long, don’t worry I’m active. 

 “Y/n, come to Garreg Mach with me.” Ashe grabbed the girl by her shoulders. 

 “Ashe, it’s dangerous over there and I’m hardly in any shape- and now the empire-“ she was rambling over all the possible threats.

“Y/n, I promise I will protect you no matter.” 

 “What if no one shows up? Where will we go?” She asked.

 They stared at each other’s faces. Ashe would say the right thing calming the girl down. His warm hands covered her shoulders. His green eyes relaxed knowing with all the dangers around, empire’s army, Garreg Mach bandits, anything he wanted to stay by her side.

 “We’ll figure it out.” He got caught in the moment looking into her (color) eyes. “I’m sure of it.”

The duo got the horses ready to leave for their old school.

————- 5 years earlier

 A young noble sat at the edge of the dock of the school yard, learning how boring it was to fish, but there was a good reason for fishing. It was a for a prank. Y/n had been studying at the school for sometime now and had made friends in her class. She had gone to the school to make a place in her family. She would not inherit status, money, nor land having two older brothers with crests. If she had become a knight she could do something useful with her remaining time in the world of the living. If the knight thing doesn’t work out you should consider looking for a noble husband. Her mother’s words rang in the girl’s ears. 

“Are you miss (last name)?” A voice asked behind her. 

 Y/n’s head turned to see who this was. Her (colored) eyes scanned the tall man with raven black hair and bright green eyes. He looked like a tall drink of goth. 

 “Why yes I am!” She cheerfully said but still turning back to her fish. 

 “I’m not interested in making you my wife.” The man said. 

 “Excuse me!” The man was a little surprised by this reaction. “I don’t even know your name and you’re saying I wouldn’t make an interesting wife?” The girl got up and in his face. 

 “You misheard-“

 “Who even are you? You just come here and past judgement on everyone trying to fish whether they’ll be marriage material or not?” She rambled. 

 “I’m Hubert von Vestra. Your parents sent me a letter.” His voice twitched annoyed by this can of worms he didn’t mean to open. 

 Y/n took the letter and read it quietly. Of course they were playing matchmaker, they had no faith in their only daughter. Sure, Y/n knows she’s a little weird, but what kind of freak parents miles away asks students from their daughter’s school to go and ask her out.

 “They even called me eccentric!” She yelled out loud. 

 “Well, I’ll be leaving-“ Hubert reached for his mail.

 “Hey, hey! Why do you want this?” Y/n asked taking the letter away from his hand.

 “It’s my mail.”

 “Yeah, well it’s black mail against me. I don’t want people knowing my parents are trying to set me up.” She explained.

 “Don’t worry your parents will just write them another letter asking them to take you out.” Hubert jabbed. 

 “You can’t have this!”

 “If I burn it in front of you will you calm down?” He sighed. 

 The (colored) eyes lit up at that suggestion. For so long Y/n could only wield faith magic, healing others and taking life to heal her own. To expand into the reason magic territory was why she went to school here, but also to learn other weapons better. To make friends with someone who could teach her reason made the wheels turn. 

 “Show me!”

 It wasn’t as interesting as she’d hope. Hubert just dropped the letter and dropped a fireball on it. They both stood in silence as the paper burned. 

 “Teach me how to do that!” Y/n begged. 

“I’m not taking any apprentices. I’m far too busy.” He said ready to leave. 

 “Or is it because you think I’m a boring weirdo?” Her sharp tongue spat out. 

 Hubert looked the girl up and down for a moment. 

 “You’re I’m professor Byleth’s class, aren’t you?” He asked. 

 “Yeah I’m a blue lion, hear me roar.”

 “I might be able to help you.”

——————(present time)

 The duo rode in silence, vigilant for the empire. Y/n reached for her horse’s mane to give it some attention. She then looked at Ashe’s back. It was the most awake she had felt in years. The last five years felt like a coma being trapped and hiding, but not having the energy to leave. It was the only role she could play. Ashe had all his gear on and ready for trouble. On hand held he now as the other steered. An ax was strapped to his side. Danger lurked around every angle, but she was safe near the man. 

 “Ashe…?” Y/n wanted to fill the air but didn’t pick a conversation yet. 

 “Something the matter?” He looked back at her. 

The setting sun light shined all around and through Ashe. He looked like a guardian angel radiating light. Her stomach sank knowing he would have to engage in war now. It was her fault, she was a target he wants to protect that will end him because she’s not strong enough to protect herself! No, no no, who spends a whole education to become a knight and not even become a good one. 

 “I’ve been having thoughts about this…” it was hard talking and actually thinking. “...whole war thing. I’ve been really selfish to you and everyone.”

 Asking other people to send their men to the army while she selfishly kept her favorite man. 

 “After we meet everyone, I bet we’re gonna get stuck in this war.”  She continued. 

“I can make arrangements for us-“

“Ashe, I think it would be best if I discharge you as my knight when we join. I don’t want to burden you with the thought you have to constantly protect me.” She blurt out. 

 “You’re not-“

 “I’m sorry I keep interrupting but Ashe,  please understand your life is important to me, and I don’t want you losing your life over me.” Her voice began to go hoarse. 

 Ashe rose his horse closer to her. She held her throat and focused on deep breathing. He extended one hand to hold her cheek. Her (colored) eyes met his hurt green. She didn’t want to hurt him, but there was no way around it. She didn’t want to send him to war, but offering anything else would be insulting calling him a coward. Dying on her would be the death to her, meaning she would have to honor his death and live through. He’s the only person that motivates her to go on. She also has to fight, other than peer pressure, it may be the only way she may move on from the tragedies of five years ago. If the war ends she’ll be able to stop grieving and pull herself together. Ashe helps a lot, he keeps all the pieces together, but Y/n knows she has to glue herself back by herself. 

“Y/n, I can do the fighting for the both of us. You can join the medical Corp and we can figure it out from there.” He mashed some ideas together. 

“I’d feel like a coward if I stayed off the battlefield.”

 He’s gonna have to say it. Despite it being the truth that has to be said, he’s gonna have to say something unflattering. They both knew Ashe hates saying anything negative about another person, especially the person he’s been living with. 

 “Y/n, your skills aren’t...ready for war.” He struggled to say. 

 “It’s fine, I know I’m not in shape.” She sighed. “I just can’t stay on the sidelines either.”

 “We’ll what’s in store for us at Garreg Mach.” Ashe ended the conversation. 

 Whose to really say anyone will even be there. Neither of them had heard news from Dimitri in the last five years. The kingdom was frail at the moment because noble houses were siding for and against the empire. Pockets of resistance still existed, but there was little that could be done. 

 Night began to fall as they drew closer to the monastery. The land was filled with debris from buildings getting caught up in the fighting. Rumored has it the monastery is only filled with thieves and even a monster. The last part had to be fake, though it still sent a shiver down his spine. 

————five years ago

 The classroom was quieter than usual because it was missing one of the more social students. Ashe listened for the gossip which was Y/n didn’t come to class for feeling sick. They weren’t close, but she talked to everyone. She was a mystery to him he wasn’t sure he had what it takes to unravel.  

 “I tried knocking on her door, but she didn’t answer.” Annette sighed.

 “Maybe we can bake her something. It’ll cheer her up.” Mercedes told her best friend.

 “She seemed fine to me yesterday.” Sylvain joined in.

 “What’s she sick with?” Ashe joined in. 

 “No idea, she seemed down yesterday too.” Annette added. 

Though Ashe and Y/n weren’t close she was always an interesting topic. One day Sylvain had started flirting with her and she told him he can only continue if he bought her lunch. It wasn’t a reaction anyone was used to but he stopped trying for a hot minute. Another weird thing was she avoided Dimitri like the plague, the next ruler of the kingdom. He did try to talk to her, and every time she would one word him. She was also a favorite in the black eagles house. It made the class think she would transfer into Manuela’s class for how much time she spent with them. 

 “Maybe she got bad news from home.” Ingrid said. 

“Her family has a nice territory. I wonder what kind of trouble could hurt them.” Felix sarcastically asked 

 “You think her family is trying to marry her off?” Mercedes asked. 

 It was an issue noble women had. Bernetta, Marianne, Ingrid, and Mercedes were all in that boat of dealing with annoying fathers. Y/n had not yet confirmed or denied her parents intentions of sending her to the monastery. 

 Professor Byleth came in to start teaching the lesson. She was also a very hard person to read because there was hardly any expression on her. Y/n’s spectrum of expression had no real direction. She’d smile, laugh, be disgusted, but no one could read the inside of her mind. Maybe it was out of curiosity or something else, but it was like the voice of the Goddess telling him to check on the girl. It had to be the right thing to do, for else, why would he feel such a need to?

[princess-of-france]

Hi! I'll ask the same for you: Multiples of 5 for Edmund, please! Here's to our Gloucester boys :) Thank you!

Oh boy, oh boy, it’s my favorite god of hell. Thanks, friend! :)

I’m going to use Edmund as he exists in the L.E.A.R. universe, because that’s the version of him I know best. Hope that’s okay! xx

5. Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)?

While he’s not the type the whip out the Windex or the pull out a vacuum at the drop of a hat, Edmund is an abnormally tidy 27-year-old man. His natural instincts for strategy, secrecy, and careful preparation have endowed him with a keen sense of organization (both in his head and in the places where he lives and works). Obviously, his father’s law office has its own set of cleaners and he can pay for housekeeping whenever he likes, but the basic arrangement of all his belongings is always the same, and always neatly coordinated. 

Another way of saying this is that the only messy thing in Edmund’s life is his heart. Loving people renders them uncategorizable, which is why he fights so hard against it. Kessa, Edgar, Cordelia… He cannot file these people away in his mind. They are the mess.

10. Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

Edmund has the irrevocable urge always to be the smartest person in the room, which is possibly a neurosis and possibly just a sign of colossal ego. (And he usually gets what he wants in this regard, because the twat has an IQ of like 180. Only one other person in his life can give him a run for his money, intellectually, and she hates his guts.)

15. Biggest and smallest short term goal?

I’m going to answer this question for Edmund at the beginning of the play:

Smallest short-term goal: to ingratiate himself with all the Anglia board members at Goneril’s engagement party.

Biggest short-term goal: to convince his father, Caleb Gloucester, to leave him Anglia as a client in Caleb’s still-unfinished Last Will and Testament.

20. Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

No major illnesses beyond the ones that most (vaccinated) children experience. But I’m sure he’s given UTIs to at least a dozen women since the age of 16.

25. How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

At the top. 

Whether he’s serving on the board of Anglia, or serving as Anglia’s chief legal counsel, or serving as husband to a divorced/widowed Goneril (CEO) or Regan (CMO), or serving as Lear’s interim replacement while the patriarch is in the hospital…it really doesn’t matter to Edmund what role he takes, so long as it belongs to him and him alone. He just wants the power, glory, money, and fame that has lain at Edgar’s feet since the day he was born. Within 5 years, Edmund feels he should be able to con himself into a position at the head of the Anglia Corp. food chain.

Except, he thinks sometimes, lying in bed with his hands over his face and the memory of fresh violets in his nose, he might be willing to give up on all of that if she wasn’t so determined to give away her inheritance…

30. Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (e.g. a close family member suddenly dies)?

This is a bit of a spoiler, but I doubt anyone will care (especially since I’m writing a prequel): when Kessa commits suicide, Edmund really does go off the deep end. It honestly breaks my heart just thinking about it. His mother was the only person in the entire world who always loved Edmund unconditionally, who put him first, believed in his worth, championed him in the face of overwhelming antagonism, fought for his rights as a natural son of Caleb Gloucester, and made it her mission in life to ensure his happiness. Her depression was the kind of obstacle Edmund always thought she could overcome, since Kessa was pretty much the strongest woman who ever lived, and it absolutely destroys him when he realizes there are some battles even goddesses cannot win.

He weeps when he gets the call. It is the one and only time he sheds any tears in my play, and he does it in front of Cordelia, who holds him as tightly as Kent held her when Marianne died, all those years ago.

The next time Edmund will cry is when Lear enters at the end of Shakespeare’s play, carrying the corpse of a hanged girl.

35. What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

Golf. To this day, Edmund doesn’t understand why businessmen are so obsessed with chatting idly about multimillion-dollar deals over 4+ hour rounds of golf. There’s nothing inherently wrong with playing the sport, of course, but using it as a backdrop for business that could be completed in 15 minutes in an office is beyond him. It’s just such a complete waste of time??

40. Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

I think Edmund is in the worst position of all: he has both.

His genius-level intelligence, natural good looks, inborn ability to charm women, and male privilege have definitely given him an unbearable superiority complex which Cordelia has made it her mission in life to puncture like a balloon.

On the other hand, Edmund also secretly suffers from an acute, infuriating sense of inferiority that just will not be scoured away by either money or success. His mixed race identity (in an overwhelmingly white world of blue-blooded New York business); his tawdry family history (as the bastard son of an ex-stripper); and the fact that Caleb obviously favors his legitimate son, Edgar, both emotionally and occupationally…all these things make it very difficult for Edmund to value himself as highly as he wants to.

I think a large part of his superiority complex is overcompensation for these feelings of inadequacy, as well as righteous anger than he has been made to feel inadequate about them in the first place.

45. Superstitions or views on the occult?

God is dead. God has always been dead. There is no such thing as fate or divine justice or cosmic intervention. Humans have free will and are inherently self-interested. There is no such thing as good or evil, only people who are brave enough to reach for what they want and people foolish enough to try to bat their hands away. The stars are cold. The universe doesn’t care. We are always, always alone.

50. Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

I don’t think death scares Edmund one bit. Everyone dies, at one time or another. Even Kessa’s unexpected demise doesn’t make him “afraid” of death; it just makes him catastrophically angry and sad. 

What does frighten Edmund to his core is the idea of dying BEFORE he has time to ascend to the zenith of power to which he feels entitled. Succumbing to death before he takes his place at the top of the world scares Edmund shitless, especially in light of his mother’s passing, because it would mean Kessa’s entire life had been for nothing. Worse still, it would mean his own life had been for nothing. If he’s not fighting, tooth and nail, every day, for the inheritance that he deserves so much more than his cocky, careless, lovesick older brother, then what is he going to have to show for himself when he’s his father’s age? How is he supposed to be content living the rest of his life within spitting distance of socioeconomic domination and never owning even a piece of it?

And then there’s fucking Cordelia, who has that entire legacy lying stagnant in a dusty bank account, just waiting for her 25th birthday so that she can give it all away to charity. If she would just change her mind…if she would just consider being Lear’s daughter for one single solitary second…if she could just try to envision a world in which she actually kept what the stupid universe has hurled at her doorstep…he would — damn her soul to hell — marry her tomorrow.

But then again, a cruel voice tells him softly, if Cordelia was the kind of woman to take the money, you wouldn’t want her half as much as you do. 

Edmund was born to want the thing he cannot have. And she was born to be it. 

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Engaged In Combat

(By popular demand, the sequel to ‘Non-Commital’! After meeting Marianne in the aftermath of her cancelled wedding, the Bog King invited the Fairy Crown Princess to visit the Dark Forest and spar with him. This is even more fun than either of them expected.) 

Technically Griselda was the one who issued the invitation, but unlike … literally every other time she had invited a woman to visit her son, Bog was open to this. Princess Marianne was a good fighter, with potential to be a great fighter, and Bog had enjoyed their first sparring match. 

“Sanctuary!” Marianne cried when he escorted her over the border. He raised a leafy eyebrow at her. “Sorry, it’s just – my dad wasn’t too happy about me cancelling the wedding. He was really looking forward to having Roland as a son-in-law. So Dad’s spent the last few days encouraging me to give Roland a second chance, so I really appreciate the love ban we’ve all heard you have.” 

Bog managed to smile. 

“I’m honestly not sure how well it’s enforced through the Dark Forest as a whole,” he admitted. “But no one will be speaking of romance in our presence.” 

“And that’s good enough for me!” 

The guards’ training grounds had various lengths and thicknesses of sticks to use for weapons. Goblins used hatchets as well, sometimes, but usually fought unarmed or with the sort of weapon that was never far out of reach in the woods.  

In the interest of fairness, Bog left his staff propped against the fence that bordered the training yard and selected a stick of roughly equal length. 

“Do I just grab one at random or is there some sort of method to choosing a good fighting stick?” asked Marianne. 

“I’d recommend one that doesn’t snap in half when you prop it up and push down at the top,” Bog demonstrated the technique, “but it really depends how you plan to attack with it. The more brittle sticks also tend to have more weight to them, if you just need to hit your enemy over the head to distract them before you run.” 

“I’m going to have a sword. I’ve always wanted … I’ve commissioned one, I just don’t have it yet.” 

Bog nodded. His opinion of Marianne’s teachers dropped another notch. She had talent, he knew, but he’d also noted her clear inexperience, and now knew she’d never even trained with a ‘proper’ weapon. 

That was actually quite surprising. The Fairy Kingdom always seemed to put more value on fancy equipment than the Dark Forest did. Shouldn’t their princess have had a sword already? 

And armour, for that matter? She was in a white and purple tunic that looked almost as fancy to his eyes as the muddy wedding gown she’d worn when they first met. 

“Here.” He tossed her a willow twig. “Willow is flexible. That should be a decent substitute for steel.” 

Marianne took a few practise swings, trying different grips. Bog did the same, adjusting to the lighter stick instead of his sceptre. 

“I’m ready,” said Marianne. 

“Begin.” 

Bog took the offensive, swinging hard at her forward leg, intending to force her either back or into the air. Marianne clearly remembered his advice about a deep stance, because instead she lowered her weight and blocked his strike. 

CLACK! 

Bog tried attacking from the other side, and – CLACK! – Marianne blocked that as well. He swung down from above, not flying, just taking advantage of being twice her height, and Marianne swung up her weapon and held it above her head in both hands. 

But that attack had been a feint, and Bog switched like a pendulum so that the lower end of his stick swung forward to catch Marianne in the stomach. 

“Oof!” 

“Your stance is good, but now you’re too rooted to the ground. You need to be heavy enough not to be knocked over but light enough that you can dodge.” 

And just like that, she was gone. In a flash of violet wings she was behind him, and – “ARGH!” – she struck his back, just below his wings. Bog fell to his knees. 

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” 

He groaned. “I’ll live. I think first blood is yours.” He got unsteadily to his feet. “Resume.” 

“You’re sure you’re okay?” 

“It was a good strike.” He bared his fangs, grinning at her. “See if you can do it again, Tough Girl.” 

Princess Marianne drove the Bog King back almost to the fence before he dodged around her and pulled her ankle from under her. She compensated with her wings, quickly enough that his next blow, aimed at her wings, didn’t catch her. 

“Go, BK!” Stuff cheered from the sidelines. 

“You can do it!” cried Thang, sitting on a first aid kit just in case one of them needed help. 

“Marianne! Marianne! If she can’t do it, no one can!” chanted the sprites Marianne had started bringing into the Dark Forest with her. 

The Bog King had Princess Marianne nearly pinned to the fence now, until she dropped to the muddy ground and slid under and between his legs. 

He turned before she could get back up and pinned her shoulder with his massive foot. She seized his ankle in both hands and, instead of pushing against it, pulled forward, forcing him off-balance. The Bog King tried to steady himself with his wings, as she had done earlier, but was startled enough to overcompensate and take off, giving the fairy princess time to jump back to her feet. 

But Princess Marianne was unarmed now. She’d dropped her stick when she ducked under her opponent, and now had only her own limbs to protect herself.

The Bog King lashed out. Suddenly the tip of his stick was at her throat and his hand was behind her neck to keep her from backing away. 

“… I yield.” 

“WOO!” Stuff and Thang cheered again. 

“It’s been weeks. Shouldn’t your sword be done?” Bog deflected Marianne’s strikes to the rhythmic clacking noise of wood against wood. 

“It is. I just … I mean, it is a real weapon. I don’t want to actually skewer you.” 

“Sticks are real weapons. You’re not going to get better with your sword unless you practice with it. Bring it next time.” 

She blew her hair out of her eyes. “And you’ll use your staff, so I’m not just slicing the sticks apart?” 

“You’d want a battle axe if you planned to do that, but yes.” 

“Is that a pun or are battle axes actually better than other blades against wooden weapons?” 

“Mostly a pun, but the weight of the axe does give it an advantage over a sword for that.” 

Marianne’s hair was a mess of sweat and leaf litter. She was wearing those dark, casual clothes she’d been favouring lately, and carrying a sword. 

“What happened to you?” Dagda wondered out loud when she sat down to dinner. 

“Bog and I had our best spar yet. He says I’m really improving.” Was that the flush of exertion or was she blushing? “I mean, I’d better be after four months, but it’s nice that he says so.” 

“Bog? … The Bog King?” Marianne had been disappearing ever since her cancelled wedding. Dagda had assumed it was to sulk or to avoid Roland. Had she been going into the Dark Forest? 

“Yeah,” she said, like this wasn’t enormously important and potentially disastrous, “and his mom invited me again to stay for snacks after, but I haven’t worked up the nerve yet to try goblin food. Maybe I’m not as adventurous as I thought.” She laughed. 

“Since when have you been sparring with the Bog King?” 

The goblin royal family had been invited to Marianne’s wedding as a matter of protocol, but left immediately when it was cancelled, and Dagda had assumed that Marianne hadn’t had the chance to meet them. 

“About four months now. Didn’t I just say that? Bog saw me attacking a training dummy and offered to teach me properly.” 

“Is …” The fairy king looked for a way to ask his daughter this delicately. “Is that why you haven’t reconsidered, about Roland?” 

Marianne gave him a dark look, darkened further by her grim, streaked makeup. 

“I have not and will never ‘reconsider Roland’ because he doesn’t love me and I no longer love him. Sparring with Bog is irrelevant to all of that.” 

Bog was panting. Marianne was panting, too, but very proud of herself for wearing out her teacher and sparring partner. 

“Had enough?” She raised her sword again, not as quickly as usual. 

“I could do this all day.” Bog raised his staff into a matching position. 

Marianne aimed a stab at his belly. He knocked it aside and she stumbled, but that put her in a position to swing at his back. He had to dodge to keep her from slicing into him, and ended up falling on his side with a grunt. 

“I yield. Your other teachers haven’t corrupted you with bad habits,” he said. “Ye’re … very impressive.” 

“Other teachers?” Of course she had other teachers, but how would, say, history or economics affect her fighting style? Maybe her dancing lessons … 

“I wasn’t pleased when we met,” Bog got back up, slowly, “with your obvious talent being held back by lack of skills. I didn’t think your first fighting teachers had taught ye well, since your techniques were … But you’ve improved so much since then.” 

“Bog … you’re my only fighting teacher. Before we met, I was self-taught.” 

“What?” 

She shrugged. “I’m the Crown Princess.” 

“Exactly – royalty has to be able to fight, in case an assassin gets past the guards. Or is a guard.” 

“Okay, maybe here that’s true, but I was always told that, as a princess and eventual Queen, I wouldn’t have to fight physically, ever. I wanted to learn anyway, so I watched the guards and worked out some drills on my own, but, like I said, I’m self-taught.” 

“That’s just irresponsible!” Bog’s tone shifted from baffled to indignant. “Or it’s a conspiracy, with a guard wanting the Royal Family helpless for when they lead a coup against you.” 

“I …” Marianne had never considered that possibility for why Roland, in particular, had always discouraged her from swordplay, when she’d suggested he teach her during their courtship. “I think it might just be mostly sexism? Dad was a knight before he married Mom and became a prince, and if I’d been a prince it would probably have been different.” 

“That still doesn’t make sense to me.” Bog made a dissatisfied noise. “Well, at least you know how to fight now.” 

“When you come next week, instead of sparring, I should give you a tour,” said Bog. “The leaves are starting to shift for autumn. It’s not as perfect as the forest under the moon, but the days are at their most colourful right now.” He gave her a sideways glance and a small smile. “Fairies love colour, right?” 

“That’s a stereotype, but I’ll give you a pass because it’s true. And because I’ve always wanted to explore the Dark Forest.” 

“What?” His smile grew almost as wide as his mother’s. “Really?” 

“Yeah. To see new things, to have adventures …” Marianne’s voice became small and wistful. “It’s … all I’ve ever wanted.” 

“I’ll show you everything,” Bog promised. 

Marianne readied her sword. “I’ll consider it my prize when I win this match.” 

Bog laughed. “Or a consolation after I win, Tough Girl!” 

“It is ON!” 

She lunged. Marianne usually took the offensive during their spars. 

They’d been sparring every week for almost half a year now. Over the past month or so, Bog had been giving Marianne fewer instructions and suggestions, and now she felt like they were on almost even footing. He had an advantage since he had been training longer, but Marianne thought she genuinely challenged him now. 

She would earn this victory! 

Bog nearly bent over backwards to stop Marianne from stabbing him in the heart. This was turning out better than Griselda had hoped. 

Bog swung at Marianne, who hopped over his staff and took to the air, laughing. He took off to follow her. 

A crowd of goblins had gathered to watch. The fighters seemed oblivious to the cheering and the betting. Marianne’s cheerleaders – handmaidens, but Griselda usually saw them while they were screaming for the princess’ victory from the sidelines of the training yard – were waving their tiny arms and occasionally coordinating themselves to spell out her name in mid-air with their floating bodies. 

Marianne led Bog in a circuit around the training ring and then dropped to strike at his legs from below. He could attack her from above, but she was keeping him from landing, letting him wear himself out trying to get around her and back onto the ground to conserve his energy. 

When Griselda asked Marianne to come to the Dark Forest, she had expected that the future Fairy Queen and the Bog King would at least develop a friendship and forge diplomatic ties, and thought that maybe meeting someone he could commiserate with over the heartbreak he still wouldn’t talk to Griselda about would help her son to recover emotionally and open him up to loving again … 

And of course part of her had hoped the two would fall in love with each other, but she honestly hadn’t been expecting that to work! Griselda refused to give up, but part of her was starting to despair of ever finding the right person for her precious boy. 

Then suddenly, there was Marianne, fierce and angry and on the cusp of turning bitter, just like Bog himself right before he first banned love – but a person Griselda could push towards him whom he wouldn’t automatically push away, because it hadn’t occurred to Bog at the time to see Marianne as a potential suitor! 

But seeing the fire in each of their eyes as they looked at each other now – “Don’t give up on me, almighty Bog King, you can do this!” Marianne taunted – Griselda was sure that Bog now saw Marianne in a different light. 

She just had to get her stubborn son to admit it and start wooing the lady outside of the sparring ring. 

“Well, well, well, now, what’s all this?” 

Marianne’s face twisted in a snarl when she heard that drawl, but she didn’t turn from Bog to acknowledge their new audience member. Since her father found out she was sparring with Bog, a few fairies, elves, and brownies had occasionally joined the goblins in watching them. 

But never this one. 

“You fairies don’t have training yards?” snorted one of the goblins dismissively. Marianne thought it might be Stuff, who was now officially her favourite of Bog’s employees. 

“Oh, we do. Ours just aren’t so … rustic.” 

Marianne ducked the sceptre’s head and thrust at Bog’s shoulder, nearly catching his spurs. 

“That sounds impractical,” said another goblin. Had that been Brutus? Marianne was starting to get good at identifying her and Bog’s usual crowd of admirers by voice alone, even if part of her training was to ignore them. “You’ve got to train in the kind of terrain you’re going to fight in. Unless you never do fight outside.” 

More goblins laughed, clearly at Roland. Maybe Brutus was Marianne’s favourite. 

“I must admit, I never knew goblins had a sweet side, but it is sweet of your king to let Marianne pretend she’s winning.” 

“The Bog King is evil and he obviously has the upper hand right now.” Portia was right, at least about the way the match was going, which was Marianne’s own fault for getting distracted by ringside chatter. “The Princess is nearly his equal in skill, and when she wins, she does so by that skill.” 

“Do you need a break?” Bog asked it in a whisper, disguised as a hiss when Marianne nearly knocked his sceptre out of his hands. Normally he would taunt her loudly, so he must have noticed Roland as well. 

“Not in front of him,” Marianne hissed back. 

“Now, I don’t mean to offend y’all,” said Roland, “but if Marianne’s a real challenge for your leader to fight, then … well, that says something, you know?” 

“How would it be offensive to say our greatest fighter is challenged by a prodigy?” Aw, Thang … 

“I just meant she isn’t, ah, properly trained, compared to a real fairy knight. You know, like me.” 

“You and I could spar once they’re done,” offered Brutus. “In the interests of comparing fairy and goblin fight training.” 

Bog disarmed Marianne. She flew after her sword and caught it before it could hit the ground, but at a cost. Bog was on Marianne’s heels, and when she swung to block his sceptre, the blade clanged against the metal at an angle that sent awful shudders up Marianne’s arm. 

No, she couldn’t lose, not in front of Roland, there was no shame in losing to Bog but Marianne couldn’t lose in front of Roland … 

“Ah, I would –” Roland suddenly sounded nervous, “but I – really – ought to – uh, go. Now. Bye.” 

Okay, that settled it; Brutus was Marianne’s new favourite. 

“Are you alright?” Bog asked her a few minutes later. He had won and Marianne was now trying to massage the lingering aches out of her arm. “You seemed … upset, when that other fairy showed up. You’ve never minded them before.” 

“That was … He was … the guy. The one I was going to marry the day you and I met.” 

“Ah.” Bog asked no follow-up questions.  

Dawn and Sunny were much more welcome additions to the audience than Roland had been. Dawn was especially welcomed by the goblins, because she had brought muffins. 

The song Dawn and Sunny performed in Marianne’s honour was not so well-received. The spar had to be cancelled for Bog to reign in the resulting chaos. 

“We’re sorry!” Sunny cried, hiding behind Marianne in the face of the goblin king’s potential wrath. 

“So very sorry!” said Dawn earnestly. 

“But in our defence, how were we supposed to know goblins are scared of sopranos?” 

“Is that what ye call it?” Bog demanded, attempting to pry a terrified Thang off his leg. “It sounded like the shrieking cry of death itself. Which I suppose is appropriate to a song of battle-glory.” 

“I should give you a tour of my kingdom,” Marianne said. She caught Bog’s staff with her sword and pushed it to one side, nearly tripping him with his own weapon. “I’m always coming over to yours.” 

“Is winter the best time for that?” Bog teased. “What about all your beautiful flowers?” 

“Sure, there’s that, but in winter it’s like –” she jumped over his attempt to trip her up, her cloak flaring “– once it’s true winter, with snow and ice instead of cold slush and gray dead plants everywhere, the whole Fairy Kingdom is transformed.” 

Bog tried to lunge in for another strike. She swiped at his leg, forcing him to step back quickly. 

“Everything looks made of clouds or crystals. It’s as beautiful as summertime, just in a different way. Like how you said the daytime fall Forest is different from the Forest by moonlight.” 

Her sword caught the sunlight reflected off the snow and shone like the moon as she raised it high. Bog took the same stance, the amber in his staff spraying golden glimmers all around them. 

“I suppose it would be … an adventure.” 

“Sire! Sire!” Thang huffed for breath. “Terrible news!”

The Bog King and Princess Marianne both redirected their attacks to miss, too invested in the momentum to pull them entirely. 

“What do the mushrooms say this time?” 

“Not the mushrooms, I saw this myself! A fairy with a primrose petal got into the castle! We caught him in the dungeons!” 

“What?!” 

“We burned the petal and locked him in a cage, but what should we do now?” The goblin looked between his towering king and the foreign princess whose subject Thang had just helped imprison. 

“I hate spring,” His Majesty growled. “I suppose we’d better deal with this together.” 

The look on the fairy princess’ face was scarier than the look on the Bog King’s when they saw the caged fairy. 

“ROLAND!” 

“Buttercup, I can explain!” 

Thang had gotten the impression that most fairies didn’t actually respect Princess Marianne’s fighting skills, so it was nice to see one reacting with the proper terror. And the toxic flower nickname was flattering, even if she didn’t actually look flattered. 

“Oh, I think I can guess,” she snarled. “Bog King, I have no objection to this criminal remaining here to face whatever punishment is deemed fit by the kingdom in which he committed his crime, but I suppose I ought to discuss the matter with my father to see if we’ll want him back alive when you’re done.” 

“You know that I know,” Marianne panted, “that love potions are dangerous.” Her sword clashed against Bog’s staff and raised sparks. “But if she’d swear an oath not to brew them anymore, would you release the Sugar Plum Fairy? Or at least turn her over to my Kingdom’s custody?” 

Bog scowled at her. “I trust you. I don’t trust her.” 

They didn’t have an audience, which was rare, and was why Marianne had chosen today to ask about Plum. She decided to push the issue a little harder. 

“If the primroses keep being destroyed, then she can’t brew the potion anymore, and then it won’t matter that she never does a background check on whoever requests one.” 

“It doesn’t even always work, you know.” 

“… What do you mean?” 

His scowl deepened and he looked away. Marianne slowed her attacks so that she wouldn’t accidentally hurt him. 

“I used it once.” 

She nearly dropped her sword. “What?” 

“She was the sweetest, most beautiful person I ever knew. I … was reckless, and foolish, and never should’ve done it, and I know that now, but at the time I was … I thought I was so in love; that I would never meet anyone like her again and couldn’t live if she didn’t feel the same. So I thought the potion would help.” He shook his head sharply. “Instead it just opened her eyes, and mine, to what a monster I am.” 

Marianne felt sick, knowing Bog – Bog, her friend, who called himself evil but had shown her nothing but kindness – had done something so twisted and selfish. 

On the other hand … 

“If you were really a monster, I don’t think you’d regret it.” A thought occurred to her. “Wait, is that why you banned love? ‘If I can’t have it, nobody else can either’? That’s so … petty.” 

The sparring match quickly fell by the wayside of the ensuing debate. Marianne had no plans to fall in love again herself, and had – as she’d confessed to Bog in the past – enjoyed being in a place where no one pestered her about that, but banning an emotion from an entire kingdom in response to a single rejection was, upon reflection, somewhat extreme. 

“And it’s not like it’s stopped your mother from trying to set you up with someone anyway,” was one of the points Marianne would later be particularly smug about making. 

By the next week’s sparring match, the Bog King had amended the Dark Forest’s ban on romance and love potions to only a ban on love potions. The Sugar Plum Fairy remained imprisoned, but negotiations were underway to turn her over to the Fairy Kingdom. 

“Do you realize we’ve been doing this for over a year?” asked Marianne while she and Bog did warm-up stretches. 

“Your skills have gone from acceptable to amazing,” said Bog. 

“Actually, I meant … being friends. I feel like we’ve made headway into actually creating a sustainable, positive relationship between the Fairy Kingdom and the Dark Forest instead of the strain we had before.” 

“… Aye, that too. Which is a credit to your skills as a diplomat.” 

“Flatterer. You’ve totally been involved, too. Hey, I should give you another tour – now that all our beautiful flowers are back.” 

“And you should stay for an evening sometime. The Dark Forest really does look its best on full moon nights.” 

Marianne stabbed and sliced at Bog, every attack missing as he twisted and wove and parried, but none of his strikes came near her skin either. 

They whirled around each other, moving faster and faster. 

Bog nearly caught Marianne’s hair in the elaborate metalwork around the amber of his sceptre. 

Marianne nearly clipped off one of Bog’s shoulder spurs, or possibly his entire arm. 

Every clang of metal against metal set off a shower of sparks, adding burns as an extra element of danger to an already intense battle. 

They had started training in the Fairy Kingdom occasionally, and the knights’ training yard was empty of even an audience tonight due to the late hour. Bog had escorted Marianne home from the long-promised moonlit tour of his lands and she had suggested a spar before he went back, “so you’ll stay awake from the rush instead of dozing off in mid-air.” 

Marianne used her wings to great advantage, flashing light off their reflective scales so that Bog could not always predict which way she was about to move. 

But Bog’s eyes were better in the dark than hers, and he hit her hand with the undecorated end of his staff – less visible in the night, without any amber bound to it – and knocked her weapon away. 

When Bog disarmed Marianne this time, he caught her with his staff across her back, his arms on either side of her, so she couldn’t just fly after her airborne sword as she so often did. 

Her wings were pinned. Her arms were not. 

Bog expected her to punch him. 

Marianne expected herself to punch him. 

Instead, she grabbed his shoulders at the juncture where his spurs emerged – they rattled in his surprise – and pulled his head down and her body up, and kissed him. 

Bog dropped his staff. Some part of his mind suspected that might have been Marianne’s goal, but most of him didn’t care because she was kissing him and he was preoccupied with kissing her back. 

It was not a perfect kiss. Bog’s nose was squished awkwardly into Marianne’s cheek. Her hands, putting so much of her weight on his shoulders, created uncomfortable pressure at the base of his spurs, and her wrists started to ache quickly. 

Then they both broke contact to breathe, and Bog picked Marianne up, and they both turned their heads so that their faces met at a different angle, and Marianne wrapped her hands around the back of Bog’s head, and the second kiss was exponentially better. 

Blue eyes – so perfectly blue – and brown eyes – such a pretty shade of brown – met gazes and held, luminous in the surrounding dark. 

Their heartbeats were loud, deafeningly loud, and perfectly synchronized, but not so loud that they drowned out what Bog and Marianne both said to one another in that moment of perfect unity. 

“Marry me.” 

Being a large and diverse kingdom, the Dark Forest actually had a number of different wedding rituals. One of them was a choreographed battle between those getting married. It was to symbolise how they were powerful enough to protect each other in hard times. 

Marianne agreed right away when Bog insisted that this goblin tradition be included, in meetings with their parents and the various officials appointed to merge Fairy Kingdom and Dark Forest customs for the ceremony. 

Officially, it was to honour the nature of their courtship. Unofficially, it was so they could vent some of their stress after enduring the inevitable pomp and formality of a Royal Wedding. 

After their fight, panting in one another’s arms, Marianne walked her fingers teasingly up her husband’s back and whispered in his ear, “I am so glad you came to my wedding.” 

[setepenre-set]

Love and War

Strange Magic

Bog/Marianne, K rating

This is a story about two kingdoms, side by side, but worlds apart. And at war.

When the Bog King finally wins his war against the Fairy Kingdom, he decides that a political marriage with the eldest daughter of the deposed Fairy King will help to promote peace. 

Obviously, he's never met Marianne.

AO3 | FFN

The war for love is over. The Fairy Kingdom has lost.

The King of the Dark Forest has outlawed love throughout all his lands—lands which now include the former Fairy Kingdom.

So it is understood implicitly that the marriage which has been arranged between the King of the Dark Forest and Princess Marianne, the eldest daughter of the deposed Fairy King, is to be political in nature only.

Princess Marianne is not best pleased.

“But I thought you hated love,” Princess Dawn says, when the Princess Marianne has stopped swearing and throwing things.

“That! Is completely beside the point!” Princess Marianne says, eyes blazing with fury. “That doesn’t mean that I want to be forced to marry this—this—”

“Maybe you’ll get along,” Dawn says, optimism undimmed in the face of her sister’s rage, “since the King of the Dark Forest hates love, too.”

Princess Marianne resumes swearing and throwing things and Princess Dawn wisely retreats from her sister’s chambers.

When Marianne has run out of breath, curses, and things to throw, she flops down on her rose petal bed and glares at the gossamer canopy over her head.

(it could be worse, a small, practical voice at the back of her mind points out. it could be Roland.)

Marianne’s scowl deepens.

She refuses to look on the bright side. She doesn’t know the King of the Dark Forest. He might turn out to be just as awful as the unfaithful former swain that Marianne left at the altar last spring.

Marianne turns over onto her stomach and considers her options.

She could run away. Pack her sword and slip out from the palace into the forest and—

—leave Dawn behind to marry the King of the Dark Forest in her place; no, she can’t do that.

All right, so she’ll take Dawn with her. Dawn, who—

—is liable to walk into the mouth of a lizard without noticing while she’s thinking of some new swain; no, bringing Dawn will never work.

She can beg her father to make one last stand against the King of the Dark Forest. If, by some chance miracle, she manages to convince him, they can wall themselves in the palace and—

—starve to death, most likely. The King of the Dark Forest arrives in two days time; that’s nowhere near long enough to prepare properly for a siege.

All right. Well. She can—

—pretend to be complacent about the marriage, and then stab the King on their wedding night.

Hmm, she likes this plan. She’ll just—

—have to nod and smile and pretend to be sweet-tempered and there is no way Marianne can manage to be that convincing; she’s bound to slip up.

So.

What is she left with?
 Marianne rolls over onto her back again, frowning thoughtfully.

She is to be Queen of the united courts of the fae. Not consort. The King’s mother, who he sent as a messenger to relay the news of the betrothal, was very clear on that point.

A Queen will have power. The ability to gather supporters from both courts.

Supporters enough, perhaps, to lead a successful coup against her unfortunate husband in a year’s time or so.

Marianne rises slowly from the bed and tugs the bellrope to summon her pixies in waiting..

The three of them flutter into the room very adroitly; she suspects Dawn of having set them to wait outside of Marianne’s chambers.

“You have doubtless had conversation with the Dowager Queen’s ladies,” Marianne says, standing at her window and looking out.

Her pixies give nervous, tinkling laughs.

“This doesn’t displease me,” says Marianne. “I think it might be useful. What do the ladies of the Dowager Queen have to say about my bridegroom to be? I know almost nothing about him,” she continues, “save that he has an hatred for love. Tell me, is there anything he likes?”

“They do say he is a skilled fighter, my lady,” offers Rosa hesitantly.

Marianne taps her fingers on the window sill.

“And what is his majesty’s chosen weapon?” she asks.

“Staff.”

“Hmm,” says Marianne, thinking of the edge on her own sword. “And what else?”

Her pixies are silent for such a long moment that Marianne turns, eyebrows upraised.

“Surely he must like something besides fighting,” she says.

“His majesty is—more noted for his prejudices than his pleasures,” says Verda, with an apologetic expression.

“Oh?” Marianne says. “Does he hate more than just love?”
 “They do say he dislikes singing,” says Violet.

“Singing,” says Marianne. “I see.”

“And primroses!” adds Violet. “He has a terrible aversion to primroses; can’t stand them!”

“Really,” Marianne says, “Primroses. I’ll have to remember that. Right. Get me the royal dressmaker, now, please. I need to plan my wedding gown.”

As her pixie attendants flutter from the room, Marianne smiles grimly to herself.

She cannot stop this marriage from taking place. But she can make this King regret it.

Bog does not see his bride to be until the wedding itself; he has no taste for princesses, no inclination to make polite small talk. He’ll be spending time enough with the lady when she is his wife; he has no wish to spend any with her beforehand.

So he is entirely unprepared for the Princess Marianne.

(Later, he will wonder if anyone could ever be prepared for Marianne.)

She enters the grand hall to the ringing din of a fairy choir singing, her chin upraised, her eyes glittering dangerously, and Bog actually feels his jaw drop slightly.

He had thought to ease the discontent of the former Fairy Kingdom by wedding the daughter of their defeated king, had expected to find his bride subdued and resigned.

The Princess Marianne strides towards him with her spine straight, and she looks much more conqueror than conquered.

He’s so struck by her that it takes him a long moment to even notice her gown.

It’s the sweet, floral scent that drags his attention away from her first. He knows that smell, the sickly smell that sticks in the back of his throat, makes him want to gag reflexively.

She’s wearing primroses.

Her entire gown is primroses and spidersilk, shot through with delicate gold embroidery, and the look on her face tells him that she knows exactly what she’s doing.

When she reaches him, she turns to face him and her wings snap out, sudden and fierce, like a challenge.

The scent of primroses fills his nose through the entire wedding ceremony and Marianne’s coronation.

She sits beside him at the wedding banquet and Bog can scarcely bring himself to eat for the scent of primroses. The choir sings throughout the whole meal, too. His temples throb.

“Does the music not please you, my lord?” Marianne says, managing to make the honorific sound like an insult.

He glares at her.

“No, it does not,” he says through gritted teeth.

Marianne narrows her eyes at him like a satisfied cat watching the mouse it has trapped.

“How unfortunate,” she says, “but then, very little pleases you, from what I hear.”

He growls at her beneath his breath.

“A gallant man,” Marianne says, still smirking, “would have told me ‘I am very pleased in my choice of wife’.”

“I am not,” Bog says, “a gallant man. An’ I think you have very little interest in pleasin’ me. My lady.”

“Then you should have told me that you are pleased with me,” Marianne says, “it would have been the thing most likely to displease me.”

“You’re givin’ me your own motives,” says Bog, “I don’ have a particular desire to displease you.”

“If that’s the case,” says Marianne, “then you shouldn’t have announced our engagement without consulting or even meeting me.”

“Trust me, I wouldna have made the announcement if we had been acquainted.”

Marianne smiles a sharp smile and stabs a berry with great viciousness, brings the fork to her mouth, and takes a bite.

“I’m surprised you went through wi’ it, if the marriage displeased you so much,” Bog says, watching her balefully. “You’ve got a reputation for leavin’ would-be husbands at the altar, my lady.”

Marianne skewers the next berry with even greater force.

“He was unfaithful to me,” she says. “Since you do not hold with love, I trust I will not need to worry about such things with you, my lord.”

Bog blinks.

He’d met Sir Roland, when the Fairy Court had officially surrendered, and while he had thought the man contemptible, Bog hadn’t thought him quite so stupid.

He had been unfaithful? To this woman?

Bog no longer wonders at Marianne’s leaving Sir Roland at the altar. He rather wonders that she hadn’t eaten his heart while she was at it.

“You won’t,” Bog says, without thinking. “You won’t to worry about that.”

Marianne goes still, and for half a moment he thinks he saw something like uncertainty in her expression.

Then it’s gone, and she’s looking away from him, out at the rest of the banquet hall.

“I hear that you enjoy sparring,” she says.

“…I do, yes,” Bog says.

“So do I,” says Marianne, “Sword, though. Not staff. Perhaps we’ll spar together sometime.”

“Aren’t we already?” Bog says under his breath.

Marianne makes a sound like startled, smothered laughter and looks at him sidelong.

“I’d be glad to spar with you, my lady,” Bog says, “though I do hope you don’ intend to kill me.”

Marianne makes that almost-laughter sound again.

“Oh, no,” she says, baring her teeth at him in something that is almost a smile, “seriously maim you, at most.”

Bog gives a snort of laughter.

(later, he’ll look back and realize that this is when he started to fall in love with her.)

“I’m lookin’ forward to it, tough girl,” he says.

When he comes to her chambers that night, he brings his staff and her sword. The ensuing fight lasts more than an hour and ranges throughout the entire royal suite. They destroy two sets of curtains, seven decorative throw pillows, and a large sofa.

He never once suggests that he take her to bed.

(later, Marianne will look back and realize that this is when she started to fall in love with him.) 

...the end. 💜

[combefaerie]

Bunty/Susie/Marianne - Regency AU thoughts

A general regency au where same sex couples are allowed (frowned upon for sole male heirs but that is one of the only situations, and a lot more urchins end up getting adopted) and Susie and Bunty are in a relationship. It has to be kept secret due to their difference in status, and Susie is Bunty's maid, so it would increase the scandal even more, but as long as no one knows they can be very close and Susie can slip into Bunty's bedroom with no raised eyebrows. 

However Bunty's parents are pushing for her to marry, whether its a man or woman they don't care, but as their only child they would rather she has or adopts children, and becoming an old spinster would be unbecoming of her and her name. So Bunty and Susie come up with a plot to look like Bunty is courting someone to get them to stop asking her to do so, and then after a while probably breaking off the engagement so that Bunty can be sufficiently heartbroken so as not to be looking for a new suitor for a while. 

They set their sights on Marianne as a girl who has not entertained many suitors but only those who are female, and witty enough to make the fake courtship bearable. If they both think she is rather pretty that is immaterial as the courtship will not get very far and she won't even meet Susie. 

They feel rather guilty for the deception, but don't want the scandal and aren't sure whether they could trust her to keep the secret. 

And so the story goes, and Marianne is so very flattered by Bunty's attentions, that she begins to fall for her not knowing they are all for show, meanwhile Bunty gets less and less sure how much she is pretending when she laughs at Marianne's jokes and lingers just a little longer than is strictly friendly with a kiss on the cheek or a press of hands, and Susie is no longer certain whether she is jealous of Marianne or Bunty when she watches them dance and talk at balls for everyone to see. 

Then somehow Flambeau's past comes to light and it is discovered both how he came by his sudden wealth (not a long lost relative as he had claimed) and that Marianne wasn't born off his first wife before his recent marriage to Felicia and instead was the child of a lover in his youth and so illegitimate. 

She sneaks into Bunty's room in tears, but quietly so that she wouldn't be seen and with the feeling that even if she was she was ruined anyway. She doesn't notice Susie's figure asleep as well, and throws herself at the end of the bed waking them up (we know she can be a bit overdramatic, I mean look who her father is), but then as Bunty lights the lamp by her bed she sees the two of them and they have to explain the situation. 

Marianne is understandably very hurt and leaves vowing never to speak to Bunty again, and not mentioning why she came in the first place. Bunty and Susie feel horrible and find out what had happened with her, and either fix it themselves somehow or enlist the help of Father Brown and they fix it together, either way they keep their involvement secret. 

Susie tries to talk to her secretly to at least get her to listen to Bunty who really wants to apologise and has become incredibly subdued, but Marianne doesn't want to hear at and after the first few times where she just walked off one day when she was particularly tired she ended up snapping at Susie that she "didn't care to be lectured by a servant, especially one who doesn't know her place" and storming off leaving Susie looking as if she had been slapped. That evening Marianne sobbed in bed as she felt horrible for her words that she hadn't truly meant and knew that Susie didn't deserve them. 

At the first ball she had been to since the events she saw Bunty sitting at the side of the room, rejecting all offers to dance, and being such poor company that everyone had left her alone. Most people accepted Marianne's improved position, however no one has entirely forgotten the previous situation so are all rather awkward around her and she gets no invitations to dance past those that are strictly necessary for politeness' sake. 

During a lull where she was standing by column quite close to Bunty but obscured from her view she overhears a conversation between her and her mother about how she should be looking for a new suitor, and she responds sadly that she would have Marianne or none at all. 

This makes Marianne actually very angry as she feels that Bunty is profiting off her unhappiness and so sits down beside her and crossly asks her why she looks so sad because "this was what she wanted wasn't it", no pressure to dance with others once she drops Marianne's name, and that she didn't need to keep up the act when it was just the two of them talking and how she knew everything. She also says how she knows that Bunty didn't really enjoy her company so at least she wouldn't need to pretend to do so. 

Now Bunty is the one to look like Marianne has hit her around the head as she tells her that she always enjoyed her company "even before I fe-, I mean, I always did. And I am sad, I want to be able to apologise properly for what we did, and I know there is nothing we can do to make you forgive us, although we have done as much as we can to make amends" 

Of course Marianne then demands to know what they did and so they go out into the gardens and talk about it, and then of course there are confessions and either kissing or nearly kissing and then Susie finds them hidden in the garden and Marianne leaps away looking stricken, but Bunty grabs her hand so she can't go far and holds out her other one to Susie who walks forward and takes it, kissing Bunty softly, and just when Marianne is beginning to look heartbroken and confused again holds her hand out to her telling her that she knows that it wasn't meant. 

She leans into kiss Marianne and then stops and goes "I mean, if you want to, I know that I'm not-" and she gets cut off by a slightly over excited Marianne. 

The then have lots of serious conversations all holding hands about how everything is going to work and in the end Bunty and Marianne get married, and Susie stays as maid but shares their bed as an equal partner, and when they adopt children she becomes the nanny and so they grow up with three parents. 

People talk about how eccentric they are as they grow older and how the children shouldn't need a nanny any more at their age and yet the nanny remains, but the family is good enough and wealthy enough that no one talks very loudly, and they live happily ever after 

[setepenre-set]

Love and War (chapter 3)

Strange Magic

Bog/Marianne, T rating

This is a story about two kingdoms, side by side, but worlds apart. And at war.

When the Bog King finally wins his war against the Fairy Kingdom, he decides that a political marriage with the eldest daughter of the deposed Fairy King will help to promote peace.

Obviously, he’s never met Marianne.

AO3 | FFN 

"This shouldna' be so complicated," Bog grumbles, several months into their campaign to conquer the legal codes. "We were one realm once, it shouldna' be so difficult t' make them one again."

"To be fair," Marianne says dryly, "that was more than two hundred years ago. A lot has changed."

Bog makes a face.

"Aye," he says, "and the mending of anythin' is always harder than the breakin'."

He rubs his hand over his face, then drops it and looks at her and smiles.

The smile feels like a small, painful dart through Marianne's chest. It is hard to remember that she does not trust him, when he smiles at her like that.

"You may be interested to know," she says lightly, "that you actually have a distant relative here in the Fairy Court."

Bog blinks at her.

"Who's tha', then?" he asks.

Marianne gives him a sweet smile.

"Roland," she says.

Bog's mouth falls open and she laughs with gleeful spite.

"You're havin' me on," Bog says, "there's no way tha'—idiotic twit has any goblin blood!"

"Oh, no," Marianne says, "it goes back farther than that."

She rises and stretches her arms over her head, stretches her wings. It's been hours that she's been stuck in that chair, hunched over books.

Her eyes are closed as she stretches, so she does not see the way Bog watches her, the way he swallows and looks away.

Marianne opens her eyes and folds her wings and assumes the pose of pretentious academia that her childhood royal tutors used to hold themselves in as they lectured.

"When Queen Mab I sent Nuada Silverhand to the Dark Forest to rule as her viceroy," Marianne intones, doing her best to imitate the droning way her history tutors had spoken, "Another—rather less illustrious—branch of the family remained in the Fairy Court."

Bog's royal tutors must have been similar to hers, because he gives a snort of laughter at her performance.

" It was to this branch that Nuada's first, divorced wife, Boann, sent their child to be raised by, after she left her husband and returned to the Fairy Court." Marianne continues, still in the same pompous drone. " The Loyalist Silverhands, broke with the Dark Forest Silverhands completely during the War of Separation, though of course there were still rumors questioning their allegiance, and they were never to recover even their former standing."

Marianne stops and swallows. She drops the pose and turns away to run her fingertips over a nearby shelf.

Suddenly it doesn't seem so funny, being able to trace Bog and Roland back to a shared ancestor, no matter that Nuada the Marred died more than a hundred years ago.

Marianne remembers speaking to Roland about this, the way he'd spun the story of his ancestry into a tragic past, the way his eyes had looked so wounded when he lamented that he would always be judged by his blood, that the two of them could never be together because of it.

She'd vowed to marry him, when he'd said that, had sworn it to him, and he'd kissed her.

Her lips twist, now, at the memory.

"Roland," Bog says, spitting the name out like it's a curse. "I'd sooner be related t' a lizard than that idiot."

"At least you didn't plan to marry him," Marianne says, voice flat, looking at the bookshelf. "You're just unlucky enough to be stuck with him. I was stupid enough to actually pick him out."

"…why did you want t' marry him, anyway?" Bog asks.

Marianne makes a face at the bookshelf.

Roland had looked so beautifully vulnerable, that day she became engaged to him, his green eyes filled with artful tears, his golden hair falling just so across his brow.

She feels sick, now, to think of it.

"He was so—good looking," Marianne says

(she is turned away, still, looking at the bookshelf, and so she does not notice the way that Bog flinches when she mentions Sir Roland's beauty)

"Well," Bog says after a moment, "I won't be acknowledgin' the connection in any case, let me tell you."

Marianne gives a snort of derisive laughter and turns towards him with a wry smile. She opens her mouth to tell Bog that acknowledging the relationship would be a thing Roland would hate even more than Bog—

—and then she closes her mouth again and does not say it.

Bog claiming Roland as family would be like salt in a would for Roland, it's true, and Marianne would greatly enjoy the opportunity to watch him writhe, but—

—Marianne knows very well that Roland's offer to help her overthrow her husband springs from self-interest. If she is successful, and if Bog had previously claimed kinship to Roland—

Then she might find herself with a rival for her throne.

Royal blood.

She can picture Roland's smug face as he suggests they marry and share the realm.

Marianne has no intention of trading her current husband for Roland.

"Why don't we go stretch our wings?" she says. "I'm stiff from sitting so long."

"Good idea!" Bog says, and jumps to his feet.

They fly over half of the Fairy Kingdom, that day, and don't return to the law books at all. Late in the day, when the sun is setting, painting everything with ruddy golden light, the two of them engage in a spirited competition of increasingly complex acrobatic arial maneuvers.

Marianne turns one especially complex diving spin, and Bog, attempting to copy her, flies straight into a dandelion that's ready to seed. They both laugh at his unsuccessful struggles to rid himself of the dandelion fluff stuck in the cracks of his carapace.

"Here," she says, snickering, and lightly slaps his hands away, "just let me do it."

Bog is laughing, too, when she says that.

(when she touches him, their laughter dies away into a strangely fraught kind of silence, and neither of them understand why.)

Marianne's fingers move, deft and gentle, over his shoulders, his head, his back.

Their fight in Marianne's chambers that night is especially fierce.

Afterwards, when they're both lying on the floor, panting and exhausted, Bog turns his head to look at Marianne, intending to ask her a question.

Her face is flushed, her eyes sparkling, her skin glistening with perspiration.

(as he gazes at her, one drop of sweat slides down her cheek, over the corner of her jaw, and then slips down her neck and for some reason this is incredibly mesmerizing to him)

She raises her eyebrows, asking without words what he wants to say.

(his mind scrambles for a panicked split second, trying to remember)

"—is there a reason," he asks, "why you dinnae keep your sword here? It's a bit foolish, isn' it, me fetchin' it from the armory every night?"

Marianne, blinks at him.

She had kept her sword in her bedroom, before their marriage, and had only moved it to the armory to lull any suspicions her husband might have of her intention to eventually stage a coup against him.

He doesn't look at all suspicious now.

(his piercing-bright blue eyes are heavy lidded with languor, after the exertion of her fight, and something hot and unexpected twists in the pit of Marianne's stomach)

"—no," she says, "no, there's no reason not to keep it here."

She sits up. The hot thing is still twisting in her stomach as Bog sits up as well, and leans back against her sofa.

(—so odd, the way he's all sharp edges and harsh textures, and yet he moves with such powerful grace and—)

Marianne stands up suddenly, her sword once more in hand. She points it at him, looks down the length of the blade at him.

"Again," she says.

Bog looks up at Marianne in dismay.

She looks entirely unfatigued, in spite of the way her hair is sticking to her brow with sweat.

Bog, by contrast, feels as if the entire populace of their realm has trampled him.

"Do you never get tired?" he asks incredulously.

Marianne grins at him and then snaps out her wings challengingly.

And Bog—

Bog finds himself struck, all of a sudden, by how very beautiful she really is—lean corded muscles and those bright violet wings of hers, power and grace together—

"So disappointing," she says with mock sorrow, "the mighty Bog King."

Bog makes a sound of protest.

Marianne sighs theatrically, inspects the nails on her free hand.

"I guess I was just expecting—"

She looks up at him, one eyebrow raised.

"More," she says.

Bog swallows.

"—you're gonna be th' death of me, tough girl," he manages to say.

He climbs to his feet, staff in hand, and Marianne laughs as they both take up defensive stances again.

The next morning, when she walks into the breakfast room, her sword hangs at her side. Bog looks up as she enters, and he sees her, and—

Oh, Bog thinks.

Marianne sits down at the breakfast table.

—oh no, he thinks, dismay following hard on the heels of understanding.

He's gone and fallen in love with his wife.

...to be continued.

Thank you so much for all of the comments! I really appreciate them so much. And I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

notes on the cultural background:

In the cultural background I've come up with, the Fairy Kingdom was already a well-established kingdom two hundred years ago when Queen Mab I reigned.

Mab I, with the help of her head general, Nuada, expanded the Fairy Kingdom into the Dark Forest, which had not previously had any centralized government of its own. This invasion is known as the War of Conquest. Nuada lost a hand during this campaign, and replaced it with a prosthetic silver one, leading to him becoming known as Nuada Silverhand.

Following the conquest of the Dark Forest, Mab I sent Nuada Silverhand into the Dark Forest to rule as her viceroy. Nuada became steadily more discontented with Mab I's governing, and steadily more sympathetic to the denizens of the Dark Forest, and eventually broke with Mab I and the Fairy Kingdom, leading to the War of Separation, which Nuada and the Dark Forest won.

Nuada's first wife, Boann, a fairy, left him and returned to the Fairy Kingdom where she gave birth to a child by Nuada. Boann later became the lover of Mab's youngest son, Dagda II, and stayed in the palace of the Fairy Kingdom, sending her child by Nuada away to be raised by the branch of her former husband's family that remained in the Fairy Kingdom.

(Marianne and Dawn's father is actually Dagda III.)

Nuada Silverhand then married a goblin, and his descendants, who rule the Dark Forest, have continued to do so as well, until Bog.

Bitter at losing the War of Separation, the Fairy Kingdom began referring to Nuada Silverhand as 'Nuada the Traitor', 'Nuada the Marred', and various other insulting names.

Roland is a descendant of Nuada and Boann. His family name actually is Silverhand; but he doesn't use it very often because he hates his family history. After the War of Separation was lost, his family still in the Fairy Kingdom was pushed out of the main court to the unfashionable southern part of the Kingdom. (Notice how Roland's accent is different from everyone else's in the movie? That's why.)

Physical beauty and perfection is desperately important to Roland because he is haunted by the fact that he's related to 'Nuada the Marred'. And this is why he was so determined, in canon, to be given command of the army—he says, remember, that he wishes to 'clear' the Dark Forest—he wants to undo the work of Nuada and the War of Separation, to clear it away, clear the slate.

The Nuada lineage also explains why Bog, in canon, superficially resembles the fairies more than any of the other goblins do. And why Bog is king even though Griselda is still alive: the royal blood is on Bog's father's side. After Bog's father's death, Griselda ruled as regent until Bog's majority, when she stepped aside. Her titles are now Dowager Queen and Queen Mother, although it's really only the fairy court that calls her by those. The Dark Forest is much less formal, and she's usually just called "the king's mother" or simply "Griselda".

The Dark Forest monarchs descending from Nuada Silverhand choose royal names that reference their non-royal parent, strengthening their connection with the populace of the Dark Forest. Griselda's family originates from an actual bog in the Dark Forest.

Bog introduces himself to Dawn, in canon, as The Bog King—as in, 'King-whose-family-is-from-the-bog', not just 'my name is Bog'.

His name is Bog, too—the name and the title are one. Before he reached majority and assumed the crown, he was just called 'the prince'—the heirs to the Dark Forest are not named at birth, but choose their own names when they reach majority.

Another note on accents—Nuada and Mab I's accents would have been approximately the same as a true 'shakespeare-era' accent. When Nuada removed to the Dark Forest, the accent of the Dark Forest royalty developed into Bog's scottish twang. The accent of the Fairy Kingdom's royal family and court developed into a modern british accent. The common people of the Fairy Kingdom have an american accent. Recently, the royalty of the Fairy Kingdom has been picking up the accent of the common people; Dagda's 'royal' accent is slight and Marianne and Dawn's is nonexistent.

notes on inspiration for the cultural background:

Nuada is a figure from Irish mythology. He was the king of the Tuatha Dé Dannan, but he lost one hand in battle. Since he was no longer "physically perfect" after the loss of his hand, he was replaced by another king, who proved to be so awful that the Tuatha Dé Dannan decided that maybe they didn't want to be quite so ableist after all, and reappointed Nuada, who had, in the meantime, replaced his lost hand with a working silver prosthetic one, as their king again.

Boann was Nuada's wife in the mythology, and she did have an affair with Dagda, another member of the Tuatha Dé Dannan.

The Tuatha Dé Dannan were originally gods and goddesses; later they were driven underground into fairy mounds, and became known as the aes sídhe, or the fairies.

Queen Mab is a traditional name for a fairy queen; she's the fairy that Mercurio talks about in Romeo and Juliet.