gaylifeuhhh

[gregmarriage]

would be sooo funny of my sisters to get pissy, if i date someone with the same name as one of their kids. as if both sisters aren’t dating guys with the same name, who look the same to me, and it’s confusing as fuck to talk about them, because you have to preface which boyfriend you’re referring to.

[hrhduchessoflancaster]

Epilogue: Onwards

Disclaimer: see Prologue.

A/N: Here we are guys. This is the end of Fates Intertwined. It took me 8 years to finish this story. There are more than 760 pages (before the epilogue) written and it’s been a pleasure to share it with all of you. Yes, there’s editing to be done because there’s been misspellings and grammar errors here and there throughout the story but I’m really glad I’ve been able to really put pen to paper and bring my characters to life. So, to all of you, my dearest readers, my most humble thanks. The old and new, I couldn’t have finished this work without your love and support. Thank you, thank you, thank you! 

 All my love, Bea.

Ps: RIP HRH Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh (10/06/1921 - 09/04/2021)

____________________________________________________________________

June 2022

The twins were christened a few months after their birth in the Chapel Royal at Hampton Court Palace. The eldest of their daughters was named Sophia Alexandra Louisa Mary while the youngest, was baptised Elizabeth Victoria Frances Alice. Both girls’ name paid homage to the important women in their lives. A set of twins was something so rare in the Royal Family that their arrival was celebrated immensely by both the family and the public. For their christening, Sophia’s godparent’s were Beatrice, Peter Philips, Elle’s cousin Michael, and Melissa while Elizabeth’s godparents were William, her cousin Alice, Zara, and Trevor.

A second set of the christening gown had to be made due to it and the babies looked absolutely adorable side by side. Sophia had a a very distinct red tint to her hair, quite similar to Elle’s and her eyes were bluish green, like Harry’s. Elizabeth on the other hand, had very light blond hair, almost white, and her eyes were the most beautiful emerald green, just a tiny bit darker than her mother’s. The Prince and Princess of Wales held their girls with pride, with their boys by their sides as they left the church, surrounded by photographers and paparazzi who snapped picture after picture of the happy family. 

“ Mama… we go home, now?”, asked Owen, tugging on his mother’s soft cream dress. Elle looked down at her youngest son, whose hand she was holding while balancing Sophia in her arms. 

“ Yes, my darling warrior. We’ll be going home very soon. We’re having a party with grandad Charles and everyone. In the garden… remember?”, she said. Owen smiled and nodded his head happily.

“ Yes, mama. With cake!”, he replied. Elle giggle and nodded her head. “Yes, sweet boy. With cake. Now, come along.”, she urged her son to walk in the same direction as other family members were going and he tumbled over to where Harry was. The proud dad of four was holding Elizabeth in one arm and Arthur’s hand with the other, all the while talking to William and Kate.  

“ Darling? Your youngest son is desperate for some cake.”, said Elle to Harry, who laughed. Will and Kate followed suit and chuckled at their nephew’s antics. Arthur, George and Charlotte also got excited at the thought of cake and began chatting happily with Owen about all the sweets and delicious things they’d have at the party. 

“ So… double the trouble… how have they been?”, asked William as the group began walking together towards the cars, with the children walking in front of their parents, under their watchful eyes. Ed, who by now had everyone convinced would die a bachelor and was, perhaps for that reason, considered London’s catch, was entertaining his nephews and other children with his antics. 

“ They’ve been well. Very different temperaments though.”, said Elle. “ Sophia is definitely the more observant, quiet one. Elizabeth on the other hand, loves attention and can be really loud when she wants to. But they are both very sweet babies and the boys dote on them.”, she continued, caressing Sophia’s cheek, who had fallen asleep on her mother’s arms. 

“ That’s wonderful to hear.”, said William, smiling at his nieces. “ I’m happy we’ve even out with the girls now. And I have two nieces to spoil.”, he continued chuckling.

“ Oh yes… I can’t wait for them to be toddlers so they can run around with the boys around the gardens. Oh they’re gonna love our home in Sussex. They already do, actually. As does sir Lancelot.”, said Harry and Elle nodded her head, agreeing with her husband.

“ And please, don’t hesitate on calling on us for babysitting duties so you can have some alone time. We’ll more than happy to share the load.”, said Kate. “Beside, I miss having a baby around.”, she smiled then looked at her husband, who chuckled.

“ Baby fever, poppet?”, he asked her and winked at him, making the couple in front of them chuckle.

************

In the following months, Elle and Harry got visits from Mary and Richard, Valerie, Trevor and Luc and Elle’s parents. The twins now looked more like their brother had when they were around a month or two and were growing beautifully well. Their support system had been amazing, in particular Victoria and Rupert who, one afternoon as they had been spending some time with them at their home, had insisted on babysitting the kids for the evening so that they could finally get some time for themselves and go out. So, on the following evening, Harry and Elle took the car out, with Ingrid, Alfred and Leo along with them and drove through London on a scenic ride.

“ Where are we going?”, asked Elle, watching carefully where they were going. She keep on the lookout for anything she could recognise until she finally did. It had been years since they’ve been there but she smiled at the thought of the first time they both had stepped foot on The Garden.

“ I can’t believe we’re here.”, she said and her husband chuckled. Getting off the car, he rushed to get her door then took her hand in his. 

“ Come on, love. We have it all to ourselves.”, said Harry. Hand in hand, they ascended to the 7th floor. The place remained pretty much the same as Elle remembered but the decor and flowers were a little bit different. They sat together in the corner, with the London skyline in front of them, in the very same spot they did almost a decade ago. They were met with non-alcoholic beverages since Elle was nursing the twins — and Harry always shared on the no-alcohol policy whenever Elle had been pregnant or nursing — followed by the same food they had eaten on their first time there, chicken filet. 

“ You remembered…”, she said, taking a bite of the buttery and juice piece of meat. “Hmm, that’s just what I needed.”, she continued and Harry chuckled. They kept eating and reminiscing about the first months of their relationship.

“ Gosh… I was so nervous when I met you here for lunch that day.”, said Elle.

“ Tell me about it… I knew I had deep feelings for you, loved you even then, but I had no idea if you felt the same.”, said Harry, taking her hand into his once again. She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

“ We’ve come a long way ever since that day, haven’t we, my darling?”, she said and he nodded his head. “Oh, speaking of which, I have something for you. To add to your collection.”, she said handing him a square box. Inside, two bracelets with the coordinates and dates of their daughter’s birthday. Harry smiled and put the on immediately. Then, reaching for his jacket pocket, he took off a square box of his own.

“ And this, is my something for you.”, said Harry. Curiously, Elle took the smaller box in her hand, with the familiar jeweller’s logo in it, and carefully opened it. Inside, there were two eternity rings: one with London blue topaz gems and diamonds, alternated in a white gold band and the other with Brazilian aquamarine and diamonds, alternated in a white gold band. Elle’s eyes widened and she looked up at her husband. 

“ Harry���”, she muttered. He smiled softly at her and took the rain band into his hands and slowly pushed it into her fourth finger, on her right hand. 

“ It’s only fair that the girls are represented as well. Topaz for Sophia and Aquamarine for Elizabeth.”, he replied. Indeed, when she had given birth to Arthur, Harry had given her a pair of emerald and diamond earrings that matched her engagement ring. When Owen was born, she got a diamond and sapphire pendant necklace that resembled Kate’s engagement ring.

“ They’re beautiful, my darling. Thank you.”, said Elle smiling lovingly at him. He smiled at her and pulled her closer to him, kissing her lips softly. She encircled her arms around his neck and deepened their kiss, urgency pouring over them. 

——— NSFW 

“ As much as I’m loving this… I’d like us to go somewhere else. And that, is my other surprise for you. Let’s get our things and get out of here, ok?”, said Harry, pulling away from Elle. However they were still close enough that their foreheads were touching. She smirked and nodded her head. The couple was giggling and teasing each other like a pair of teenagers as their RPO’s drove them to yet another familiar site: the Claridge’s hotel, the very same place Elle had spent the night before her wedding. Her eyes widened and she smirked once again at him.

“ We’ve got the Mayfair Suit for the night. Not the same you had but we don’t need that much space anyway.”, said Harry. “ Your parents are staying over so don’t worry. Leo, Ingrid and Alfred are gonna be in a suit down the corridor. Now… where were we?”, he continued and she giggle, smirking at him. They always been very passionate with each other, but it had been a while. He looked into her eyes and licked his lips, as she bit her lower lip, the familiar hint of mischief glowed in her eyes. Elle pushed him towards the bed and smirked, slowly peeling off her coat.

“ I see my temptress wants to tease me…”, said Harry, also smirking. Elle chuckled, now in her lingerie. She walked slowly towards him, crawling in bed and straddling him. Unable to keep his hands off of her, he took hold of her waist, pulling her closer to him and crashed his lips on hers, passionately. 

“ God I want you…”, he whispered to her as they pulled away. “ I want you now”, he continued in a firmer tone, looking once again deeply into her eyes. She lustfully looked at him and started undoing his clothes, kissing and licking each inch of skin as she took the items off of his body. Harry’s breathing became uneven, and she could see he was becoming desperate for her. She lightly scratched his skin with her teeth and nails, drawing heavy breathes from her husband. Once she reached the waistband of his boxer briefs, he had enough. In a sudden movement, he rolled them over and now he was on top of her, smirking smugly. 

“ My turn…”, he said, running his hands all over her body, tracing every line, bump and curve, kissing and worshiping her body as she breathed heavily. 

“ Harry….”, she moaned, pleading him. 

“ You took your sweet time. Now let me please you…”, he replied smirking.

——— end of NSFW

They spent the entire night enjoying each other’s company and being in each other’s arms, basking in the little peace they had at that moment, inside their little bubble. With all their duties and work, it was rare for them to have time for themselves, specially with four young children. Being able to escape all the fuss had been their saving glory, and much of it could be attributed to their home in Sussex. Their little safe haven. 

************

Fifteen Years Later

Elle could barely believe the day had come. It felt like something out of a fairy tale. And though it also carried a somber, solemn tone to it, it was day of celebration throughout Britain. Charles had passed away on the previous year and now, here she was, dressed in a white ball gown, with tiny gemstones, lace and gold thread with symbols from each part of the United Kingdom and all Dominions overseas. The set of coronation necklace and earrings glistered in the lights, as did the other jewels she had on her person. The deep purple cloak laced with ermine was draped and attached over her shoulders and Elle felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She thanked her ladies as both she and Harry were helped into the special royal garments that would forever change their lives. Reaching the White Drawing room at Buckingham Palace, which had become their residence since Charles’s passing, she was met with her sons. 

“ Mother… you look so beautiful.”, said Arthur, dressed in his military uniform, in the very same style as his father had worn before. Now 20 years-old, he had grown into a handsome young men, and was following into both his parents footsteps: he was studying Political Science and Diplomacy at Oxford and was also training with the Blues and Royals, in order to pursue his military career as well. 

“ Artie is right… you really look like a queen.”, nodded Owen. The youngest of their sons, now eighteen, had just started university at St. Andrews, like his mother. He was just as handsome and talented as his brother but but being a more soft-spoken person than his brother, he decided to take his time and do one thing at a time on joining the military.

“ Oh, thank you, my sweet boys. You both look very dashing in your uniforms.”, said Elle, beaming as the proud mother she was. “Do you know if your sisters are ready?”, she asked them, as she adjusted her cloak. Her sons also wore distinctive red robes and had their coronets in hand: Arthur’s had crosses and fleurs-de-lis and and arch, since he was the heir apparent. His siblings wore the same style but without the arch. 

“ Last I saw them, they were on their way to see dad. But they were ready.”, said Owen and Elle nodded her head. Her daughters were polar opposites but at the same time, very in tune with each other. While Sophia, now soon to be the Princess Royal, was quiet and more bookish, Elizabeth was very talkative and extroverted. Now at fifteen, they had been given more and more duties and often came along with their parents to engagements and celebrations. 

Soon, the whole family had met in the room for their final get together before their ride to the abbey. The children would arrive first as the couple had a longer journey through some of London’s most famous landmarks such as The Mall, then though Admiralty Arch, and down Whitehall, before entering Westminster Abbey. Elle stood there for a second, staring at Harry. After more than 20 years of marriage and a lifetime of knowing each other she often found herself looking at him, admiring him and seeing the changes, some more subtle than other, in his appearance. He looked so different from the young brash prince she got to know and love in their young adulthood. Now a father of four, a husband, a leader and soon-to-be king, Harry had matured and grown into much more than the man she knew he’d always been underneath that same brashness. She watched as each of their children hugged and kissed him, wishing him luck. The same smile and proud eyes looked at them all, something that had never changed since the very first moment he had seen them as newborns.

“ Mummy, you look so beautiful. And you’ll be even more so with that stunning crown.”, said Elizabeth, as she kissed her mother’s cheek. 

“ Thank you, my love. You look stunning yourself. And so do you, Sophia. My girls… so beautiful and clever. How did I get so lucky?”, said Elle, caressing Sophia’s cheek, who smiled lovingly at her mother.

“ Liz is right. You do look amazing. I hope one day I’ll be just as beautiful as you.”, said Sophia. 

“ Oh my darling…”, said Elle cupping her daughter’s cheeks with both hands and smiling at her. “ You already are. Inside and out.”, she finished, giving her a kiss on her forehead. 

“ Now come on you lot, you have to be at the abbey soon. Ofd you go. We’ll see you there.”, said Elle and her children nodded their head, making their way to the main hallway. 

“ Wish us luck!”, shouted Harry. He too watched them go then walked beside Elle, taking her hand into his, gentling brushing his fingers on top of hers. She looked at him and smiled lovingly at her husband.

“ Nervous?”, she asked. He sighed and nodded his head.

“You know, I never really thought about this day. And for the most part of my life it has been an impossible day. It had never crossed my mind William would abdicate. That was something I’d never even considered happening. And yet, here we are.”, said Harry.

“ Here we are indeed. And what a journey it has been.”, said Elle and he nodded his head again. “ We’re going to be fine, aren’t we?”, she asked. He turned his full body to her and grinned.

“ Of course, my love. We have each other. We have our children. We’re always going to be fine. More than that, we’re going to be happy. Til death do us part and even then.”, he replied and she chuckled. Leaning closer to her, he kissed her lips gently as she met him halfway, her hands holding onto the lapel of his robes. They were then suddenly interrupted by Ronald, Daniel and Lisa, who were looking very eager.

“ Your majesties, the carriage is ready. We should get going.”, said Ronald. The couple nodded their heads and, hand in hand, walked towards the State Coach which would bring them to one the most important cerimonies of their lives.

************

The morning of July 3rd 2037 would be remembered forever in British history. The procession of Prime Ministers, Members of the Royal Family, members of the nobility and aristocracy, politicians, the military and close friends filled the abbey, which was surrounded by a huge mass of people who had come to watch the coronation of their new king and queen. Inside the west door, members of their family, the young children as well as Elle and Harry’s own children took their place. William, Catherine, Beatrice and Eugenie would be among the peers escorting Elle and Harry to the throne as page and maids of honour. 

With the cheers and bells getting louder and louder, the royal couple entered the abbey. A guard of honour was formed at either side of the entrance as Harry and Elle stepped into Westminster Abbey. They were greeted by the Archbishops of Canterbury and York and the peers bearing the regalia — the crowns, sceptres, rings, etc — that they both would wear in a matter of minutes. I was glad, the traditional coronation anthem was played as they walked towards the choir. Elle walked in first, her ladies holding onto her long cloak, with the acclamations of Vivat Regina Alienora, by the King’s Scholars. Her heart was pounding, as she remembered walking the same path on her wedding day. She walked past the thrones and Saint Edward’s chair — the coronation chair — as she was presented to the peers and other members of the church who stood there and was taken to a smaller throne. Soon after, Harry walked in, with much more pomp and ceremony, with his acclamation Vivat Rex Henricus. He took his place beside her on the smaller throne as they waited for all the ceremony to proceed. Stabdibg up, they waited for the Archbishop of Canterbury to begin the recognition and then the oath.

“Sirs, I here present unto you King Henry, your undoubted King: wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage and service, are you willing to do the same?”, said the Archbishop. And the assembly replied:

“ God save King Henry!”. Elle smiled and a single tear fell from her cheek as Harry bowed his head to the Archbishop. Sat in the Chair of the State, Harry was took the Coronation Oath.

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and of your Possessions and other Territories to any of them belonging or pertaining, according to their respective laws and customs?”, said the Archbishop.

“ I solemnly promise so to do.”, replied Harry.

“ Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?”, continued the Archbishop.

“I will.”, said Harry, firmly. 

“ Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the Laws of God and the true profession of the Gospel? Will you maintain and preserve inviolable the settlement of the Church of England, and the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government thereof, as by law established in England?”, he finished.

“All this I promise to do, perform, and keep. So help me God.”, ended Harry. He then signed the oath. Harry was then disrobed and taken to Saint Edward’s chair. There, the canopy was placed on top of his head, he was anointed and cloth of gold were placed on his body. He was then given the regalia, the Sceptre with the Cross, the Sceptre with the Dove, the Sovereign’s Ring, the Sovereign’s Orb and most importantly, St. Edward’s Crown. Zadok the Priest was sung as the Archbishop of Canterbury lifted the crown and said the prayers.

“"Oh God, the crown of the faithful; bless we beseech thee and sanctify this thy servant our king, and as thou dost this day set a crown of pure gold upon his head, so enrich his royal heart with thine abundant grace, and crown him with all princely virtues through the King Eternal Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen”, and then the crown was placed on Harry’s head. The peers the put on their coronets, including their children, as shouts exclaimed:

“ God save the King! God save the King! God save the King!”

Harry, now crowned and adorned, was sat on the throne for the homage of the members of nobility, a custom that dates back to the Medieval period. One by one, they gave their homage. William, among them. Kneeling in front of his younger brother, he smiled and said:

“ I, William, Duke of Cambridge, do become your liege man of life and limb, and of earthly worship, so help me God.”, he finished, before kissing Harry’s cheek, smiling proudly. 

After the homage was complete, it was Elle’s turn to be crowned. She kneeled in front of the altar, next to Saint Edward’s chair, while the canopy was placed above her head. She was then anointed, given the Queen’s ring, the Sceptre and crowned as Queen. Her crown was similar to those who came before her, minus a very particular diamond that had been given back to its people. It was, nonetheless, still encrusted with jewels and pearls, beautiful mounted on a platinum circlet with crosses pattée and arches on top of it. Elle then bowed before Harry then took her place beside him, on the throne at the centre of the abbey. 

With Harry at the front and Elle after him, the newly crowned King and Queen left Westminster Abbey at the sound of God Save the King. Entering the carriage again, they sighed and smiled widely to each other. 

“ I can’t believe that’s just happened.”, said Elle, lightly touching the crown on her head. They could hear the shouts on the streets as they made their way back to Buckingham Palace for the traditional balcony salute. Once at the palace, they hugged their children and they smiled widely at them.

“ You both did splendidly!”, said Owen grinning. “ More than that, it was perfect!”, exclaimed Sophia. 

“ Thank you, my darlings. I’m sure I speak for your mother and I when I say how relieved we are this is over.”, said Harry smiling.

“Well… at least this time, I didn’t have two small children to entertain during the ceremony.”, said Elle looking at her sons. The boys chuckled and nodded their heads.

“ I can barely remember papa’s investiture… I was so little.”, said Arthur.

“ I just remember the carriage ride afterwards.”, said Owen.

“ Well, you were asleep for most of the ceremony, sweetheart.”, commented Elle.

“ What about us?”, asked Elizabeth. Elle and Harry smiled at each other. 

“ Your mother was pregnant with you both then. Though she didn’t know it at the time.”, said Harry, smiling affectionately at his wife then at his daughters. 

“But soon after that, I discovered we would be having twins.”, said Elle, linking her arms with her husband’s as they waited in the room that led to the balcony. The girls grinned at their parents.

“ And soon, we’ll have to start planning your investiture, son.”, said Harry, looking at Arthur. The older of their children smiled and gulped, knowing full well the amount of responsibilities that would come with his new title.

“ And although you don’t get a fancy investiture, Sophia, you’ll also have a celebration here as you receive your new title of Princess Royal.”, said Elle, smiling at her oldest daughter, who smiled at her mother.

Their little family gathering had been cut short when Ronald announced the time had come for them to greet the public. And so they did. Together, the six members of the inner Royal Family stepped into the balcony — the princes and princesses with their connotes placed in their heads, shining under the summer’s son, while the newly crowned King and Queen waved in all their majesty to their subjects. 

“ I hope I’m up for the task ahead of me.”, said Harry, waving at the people.

“ Don’t worry, my darling. You are.”, said Elle smiling. “And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”, she continued, now looking at him. He turned to her and their shared a brief kiss before turning to their children and asking them to step closer to them. In all their widest dreams, neither Elle nor Harry had ever considered this would be what the future had in store for them. And yet, it seems their fates had long been intertwined and their destinies, set on the stars. 

The End.

[noladyme]

The Wife - Chapter 2

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. As rumors spread that Mr. James Delaney had returned to England – making a dramatic arrival at his father’s funeral – you might imagine mothers throughout London, rushing to present their marriable daughters to the man. They did not; and for three very good reasons. First; James Keziah Delaney was clearly damaged from his travels, and not a little dangerous. Secondly; it was the general opinion of the better society that Mr. Delaney had inherited his mother’s madness. Thirdly; Mr. Delaney was not single. In fact, he was very much married.

TW: angst, violence, blood, smut (7467 words)

He came to her, as she stood in the middle of a meadow of white flowers. As he walked towards her, the flowers he passed wilted. “Why are you here?”, Rosalind asked. “Because I cannot stay away”, James said. She put her hands on his broad, naked chest; and felt his heart beat as if he was really there, and not a dream vision. “Then don’t… I waited. Even after they told me you died; I still waited!”. “Why?”, James asked; putting his forehead to hers. “You know why, my love”. James pulled back from her, and pointed at the wilted flowers behind him. “This is what I bring. This is what will happen to you, if you let me in”. “You won’t hurt me”, Rosalind said, and reached for his hand.

He disappeared in the same moment, and appeared again, a way off from her. The white flowers were now all dead. “Death follows where I go. Do not put yourself in danger… I should not be here. Wake up”.

She woke with a start. The sun was already peaking through the gap in the curtains, and the room was cold. A wilted flower lay on the pillow next to her.

---

Two days later, Rosalind was seated on a plush sofa in countess Musgrove’s day room. She had long since given up on the card game, as the stakes were much too dear for her purse; and she was feeling dizzy and out of sorts. “I tell you, that feather made all the difference. Within minutes, he was meek as a lamb, and pleading with me to end the torture, and just let him finish!”.

The ladies in the room all laughed at the countess’ story. Musgrove herself relished in the attention, before turning to Rosalind. “Miss Beauchamp… or should I say; Mrs. Delaney”. The ladies all cackled. “Tell me; how is it, having your husband back?”. “Much as it was before he returned”, Rosalind said, surprised by her own bluntness. “Are you still being courted by that dashing Mr. Geary, then?”, a well-fed lady, who’s name Rosalind did not remember, asked. “I’ve never found him… dashing. And he smells like herring”. Rosalind could not cover the disdain in the voice.

The countess got up, and walked over to join her on the sofa. Her blue, silk gown covered most of the seat. It reminded her of water; and for a moment Rosalind considered stroking her fingers against it, to see if they would breach the surface of the fabric. The countess poured her another cup of tea, and handed it to her. “Please. I have it made especially”, she smiled. Rosalind took a sip, and tried – unsuccessfully – to hide how bitter the taste was. “It is not in everyone’s taste, of course. But quite expensive, I assure you”. “I’m sure it is”, Rosalind said.

The countess popped a meringue into her mouth. “Now, your husband…”, she said, after finishing chewing. “I hear he’s quite the brute”. “He wasn’t when I met him. Now, I do not know; to be honest”. “He has not moved you in to his house. Why?”. “You guess is as good as mine, my lady”, Rosalind said. “Perhaps he knows I am quite comfortable with Mrs. Owen”. “Bah, that old gossip monger”, the countess scoffed. “My maid tells me, she runs her mouth to every man or woman who will listen, about her tenants”. “I am not surprised. But my lodgings are fitting to my income, as it is”.

Musgrove raised an amused and overly painted eyebrow at her; while Rosalind took another sip of tea. “Are they? I hear your formerly dearly departed, now very much alive husband, is about to make quite a lot of money; from selling a plot of land. I’m sure you’ll be moving up in the world soon… You might not even need to take employment with me, the next time my niece visits”.

This was how Rosalind had met countess Musgrove a little over a year earlier; as she was entertaining her husband’s niece from Germany. The poor girl needed a chaperone for the rambunctious parties the countess hosted; and Rosalind had held the flabbergasted girl’s hand, as they made their way through rooms filled with acrobats and magicians. She had soon returned to Hanover, but Rosalind had been continuously invited to all the parties at the countess’ home; and had each time sent back a polite decline. She had accepted the occasional invitation for tea, and sat through the ridiculous gossip and banter such occasions had provided.

“I was not aware. We have not spoken much, since his return”, Rosalind said. “I have only seen him twice, and he never spoke of land or money”. She cleared her throat, feeling it suddenly dry. She could not stop herself from saying things, she felt she shouldn’t.

“But you must have heard about the land in America. Nootka Sound”, Musgrove said. “Here; have some more tea, for your cough”. She poured another cup for Rosalind; who took a large sip. “Only from Mr. Thoyt, my father-in-law’s lawyer”. A strange expression ghosted the countess’ face. “Mr. Thoyt… He has been in contact with you?”. “Well, I was the sole heiress to the Delaney estate, so yes”, Rosalind said. She took another sip of tea. “All my husband has spoken of; is how he believes someone is out to kill him”.

Rosalind halted herself. She felt as if she could not stop the words going through her head, from coming out of her mouth. Her hands shook, and she set down the cup on the small table next to her. “I’m terribly sorry, but I am feeling unwell. Would you mind having a carriage take me back to town?”. Musgrove took her hand. “Oh my dear! Are you sure you do not want to have a lie down in one of the guest rooms?”. “No, please. I should like to go home”, Rosalind insisted.

Musgrove got up, and walked over to one of the footmen, and said something below her breath. “… when she’s asleep…”, Rosalind thought she heard the countess say. She used her hand to fan herself; feeling not hot, but still like fresh air might do her good, in her faintness. When she looked up again, the other ladies were whispering at the card table, and the countess had disappeared off to somewhere. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when they opened again, she was alone, but for the countess, who had returned. “Come my dear. The carriage awaits”.

Rosalind managed getting into the carriage without too much help from the coachman. The countess waved her off, as they drove away. For a while, they drove down the roads leading from the Musgrove manor to London; and Rosalind let herself relax against the window. It became dusk while they drove, and the trip took longer than Rosalind expected. The coachman took a few turns she knew were wrong. “Driver, this is not the way back to town”, she called out. She noticed some of the same trees she’d seen earlier. “Why are you taking me back to the manor?”.

There was no answer, but the carriage halted, and she heard the coachman get down. Suddenly, the door opened, and the coachman entered the carriage; startling her. He pulled out a handkerchief, and pressed it against her face; with a firm grip to the back of her head. Rosalind screamed through the fabric, but when she inhaled, a strong acidic smell hit her nose; and she suddenly felt dizzier than before. “Sleep now, miss. You’ll feel better in the morning”, the coachman said. Rosalind let out another scream, and weakly struck at his head; before she had to give in. She had no fight left in her.

Another person entered the carriage; striking hard at the coachman’s head. A knife shaped as a claw slid across his abdomen, and Rosalind saw blood flowing from the wound. “Go back to Musgrove. Tell her the lady will be disinclined to return for tea, until she serves something of a better quality; and less disturbing to the senses”, James voice growled. Rosalind let out a gasp of relief mixed with exhaustion. She found it difficult to keep her eyes open, but managed to meet James’ eyes for a moment, as he pulled her out of the carriage, and tried to set her on her feet. “Can you walk?”, he asked. “No”, Rosalind replied; unable to raise her voice above a whisper. She collapsed against him, her face buried against his shoulder. She held on to his collar, but couldn’t stay on her feet. “Rose”, James breathed. Then everything went black.

---

There were flashes of lucidness. Leaning against a strong shoulder, seated in an open carriage. The smell of gutters, and sounds of laughing people. A street light forcing her to cover her eyes. A voice she knew, speaking a language she didn’t. Being carried up squeaking steps. A warm hand stroking her forehead.

She woke in a bed she knew well, and had slept in it many nights, years before. She was in the bed she was meant to have shared with James after they’d been wed, but had instead ended up sleeping in on her own, after he’d left. The room was darker than it had been when she had lived there; in spite of the fireplace being lit, and the candles set up on the nightstand.

Looking down at herself, she saw that her jacket had been removed, as well as her shoes; but otherwise, she was fully clothed. James was seated on a chair in the far corner; his expression dark and hard. “Did you kill him?”, Rosalind asked. “No. I had a use for him. He needed to send a message to your friends, the countess”, he said. “I did kill the pharmacist that sold her maid the powders she put in your tea, to make you compliant”. Rosalind shuddered at his words. “What happened to you, James?”, she asked. “I was always this. You are just seeing it now”, he replied. She sat herself up, leaning against the headboard.

They sat for a moment in silence, before Rosalind could take it no longer. “Will you not come closer? I can hardly see you in the darkness”. “I should not be close to you right now. I am very angry”, James replied. Rosalind went to get out of bed. “No, stay there”. “Are you angry with me?”, she asked. “Do I have reason to be?”. “I don’t know”, Rosalind admitted. “I know nothing about your dealings, and yet I fear I’ve let too much be known to others”. James nodded. “You did. But no; I am not angry with you”. Rosalind leaned forwards. “Then come closer. You won’t hurt me”. James got on his feet. “Do you believe I would hurt you, if I was angry with you?”. “No”, Rosalind replied.

A log in the fireplace cracked, and the embers lit up James face. His lips were parted, as if he was to speak again; but instead, he slowly walked towards the bed. Once close to her, Rosalind reached for his hand, and he sat down on the edge of the bed; allowing her to merge her fingers with his. “You put yourself in danger, when I asked you not to”.

“I didn’t know having tea could be dangerous”, she said. Swallowing hard, she met his blue eyes. In spite of the crows feet and the scar, they were still the same.

“You visited me in my dreams”, she said timidly. “Hmm”, James muttered. “I’m sure I’ve visited you there many times”. “But you did…”, she insisted “This does not sound like madness to you?”. “Madness that I believe you can do so?”, Rosalind said. James merely grunted as a reply. “You died, and then you came back. I believe you can do many things”. “Hmm…”, James grunted. Rosalind turned his hand in hers, and pulled it up to kiss his palm. “If you want to see me, don’t come to me in dreams”, she said. “I have dreamt of you too often. I want to you there when I am awake”.

James pulled his hand back abruptly, and got off the bed. He looked hard at her. “You are no longer safe on your own. You will move back into this house, where I can protect you”. “Is that the only reason why you want me here?”, Rosalind asked. She reached for his hand again, but he recoiled from her. “Sleep now”, James demanded. “You still have chemicals in you, it is why you are saying such foolish things. There is no such thing as visiting another person’s dreams”.

He left the room without another word.

---

The smell of coffee and bacon woke her. Rosalind gingerly stepped out of the bed; testing to see if her legs would hold. Once she was satisfied that they would, she looked under the bed. There, covered in a thick layer of dust, stood a pair of slippers. She smiled to herself, happy that she’d been correct in thinking she had left them here, when she’d departed the house 9 years before. They still fit.

She made her way down the stairs, into the sitting room. Two places had been set up for breakfast, and Brace was happily putting down a plate of eggs and bacon by the chair closest to the lit fireplace. The dog was laying in front of the fire, and lifted its head for a moment, when she entered. “Good morning, ma’am… or, miss”, he smiled. “I am glad to have you back in the house”. “Just a few days ago, you seemed to rather have me anywhere but here”, Rosalind chuckled, and seated herself in front of the delicious smelling food. “Well, maybe you can straighten him out. Lord knows, I can’t”, Brace replied, and poured her a cup of coffee.

“Bacon, Brace? We don’t eat pork”, James grunted; suddenly appearing in the doorway. He was dressed in trousers, and a blue shirt that was not tucked in. Tattoos were visible on his chest and neck, and the shirt exposed more of his skin than Rosalind had ever seen before. He was tanned, and looked strong. Heat pooled in Rosalind’s lower belly, and she had to look away. “Which is why I made you porridge”, Brace replied. “There’s no reason the lady should suffer, because you won’t eat anything from the market”. Rosalind stifled a smile, and raised a fork to her lips. “You bought this at the market?”, James asked. Brace nodded, and James sprang towards Rosalind; grabbing the fork from her, and throwing her plate into the fireplace. Some of the food landed in her lap. “James!”, Rosalind yelped. James raised an angry finger at Brace. “How many times must I tell you; we only eat what comes from Atticus. He is the only one I trust!”.

Rosalind got on her feet, and wiped the food of her skirt with a napkin. The dog got on its feet, and came over to eat the scraps that landed on the floor. James looked at her, his gaze slightly embarrassed. “I will have your things delivered here today”, he said. “Your clothes, and whatnot”. “I never agreed to stay”, Rosalind replied. Brace looked disappointed. “You don’t have a choice. What happened last night should be proof of that”, James retorted. “And, you are my wife. It is only proper”. “And you are all about propriety, are you?”. She let her eyes travel toward his partly uncovered chest. “I will fetch my own things, thank you". “I don’t want you leaving this house, until I’m sure it’s safe", James said.

Rosalind sighed in irritation. “Brace, I should like to eat in my room. Porridge will be fine”. “Honey?”, Brace asked. “Jam, please. If you have it”, she replied, and exited the room with as much pride in her step as she could muster. She heard another plate being smashed as she went; and hurried up the stairs.

---

She didn’t leave her room the rest of the day. Rosalind knew James was right. Though she had no idea why she was in danger, someone – quite possibly the countess Musgrove – had tried to kidnap her. Angry as she was at him, being in James’ presence – in his house – made her feel safer.

During the day, she heard shuffling upstairs in the attic. Heavy items being moved around, and steps across the floor. The senior Delaney had used the attic as an office, she knew, but she had only been up there a few times; and when she had, her father-in-law had been in a drunken stupor, and she’d had to help Brace get him down to his bed. The thought of James in the same condition, mad and rambling, made her heart sting with pain.

In the evening, she decided to go downstairs for dinner; needing a change of scenery. Her chest and travelling luggage stood in the hallway. On top of the chest, stood the new boots; still unused. She stood for a moment, looking at them, before walking in to the sitting room; where James sat at the dining table, bent over what looked like salted beef and potatoes. Rosalind sat down at the opposite end of the table.

“I’ll have to burn your old boots, if you keep refusing to wear the ones, I got for you”, James said; eyes fixed on his plate. “You don’t want me leaving the house. I don’t need boots”, Rosalind replied. James grunted nonsensically in response. “What was that?”. “Eat your food”. “Are you sure it’s not poisoned?” He looked up at her with narrowed eyes. “You should watch your tongue”, he said. “I am not afraid of you, James”, Rosalind snarled. “You should be. I am a dangerous man”. He returned to his food.

Rosalind poked at the meat on her plate. It looked unappetizing, and she decided to only eat the potatoes. “If you insist on keeping me here, I should like to know why", she said. James gave her a quick look, before downing a glass of brandy. “You don’t want to be here?”, he asked. “You don’t seem to want me here, and I prefer not to overstay my welcome with anyone”. She put a piece of potato in her mouth, and chewed as femininely as possible; considering the undercooked consistency. She suspected these potatoes were of the kind, which would never be possible to cook properly.

James leaned back, and watched her intently. "Did my father ever give you any documents for safe keeping?”, he asked. “Something that might look like a contract, or a deed?”. Rosalind shook her head confusedly. Brace came into the room, with a tray of bread. “No. He wouldn’t let me near anything official looking. I was more or less an ornament, while I stayed here last". James narrowed his eyes at her. “How long did you live here?”. “A little over a year. Up until your letters stopped, and your father became too cruel", Brace said. James tensed up at this statement. “He wasn’t cruel", Rosalind said. “He was just in pain. He missed his son, and I reminded him of that". James studied her face intently. “You always seek out the good in others; almost to a fault, miss", Brace said. Rosalind blushed at Brace's words, though she was quite sure they were not truly a compliment.

She looked at James again. “You did not answer my question. Why am I here? And why did someone try to kidnap me yesterday?”. James looked at Brace, who shook his head almost pleadingly. “The lady wants to know”, James said. “Nootka Sound. Do you know of it?”. The old butler left the room, looking unhappy. “Not much. I’ve heard it is a plot of land in America". “Hmm…”, he grunted. “It is an area on the north-west coast. And it’s mine". Rosalind carved another piece of potato. “I was told you were about to sell it”, she said. “That is what they want. They tried killing me, so they could buy it from you, but they haven’t managed so far", James said.

A chill went through Rosalind’s body. “You’re not selling?”. “No. I intend to use it for myself. It’s located in a strategically beneficial place for trade…”.

James looked at her, as if he anticipated her next question. “And who are they?”, she asked. “The ones who want you to sell?”. He seemed to consider whether she was to be trusted enough to hear what was to come; before finally coming to a conclusion, and continuing. “The crown wants the land, to control the Americans; and the East India Trading Company wants it for naval trade. To add to them, are the Americans, who also want their hands on it. That is why Musgrove was trying to put her claws into you, yesterday”. “The countess is French", Rosalind said. James shook his head. “She is from New Orleans. An American spy”, he said. “All three parties believe they can use you; that if they have you, they can convince me to sell to them”. Rosalind pushed away her plate, and looked hard at James. “My life and yours are in danger, because you won’t sell a plot of land you’ve never even seen?”, she asked. “They probably won’t kill you like they would me, but rape and torture is certainly a possibility”, James said matter-of-factly. He raised a bottle. “Brandy?”. Rosalind shook her head. “I changed my mind. You are mad, James…”, she said; and pushed her glass forwards. “Make it a double”.

James got on his feet, and walked over to her, filling her glass. “I have a plan to keep you safe, and me alive”, he said. Rosalind raised the glass to her lips, and took a sip. “It is why you must stay here with me – and be my wife again”. Rosalind almost choked on her drink. “I… what?”. James handed her a napkin, and she wiped her mouth. “I am making arrangements to travel to America”, he said, and topped off her glass. “I can continue those preparations in secret, if we convince all three parties that I have instead decided to sell”. “How do we do that?”, Rosalind asked. “By you moving in here permanently”, he said. “They will believe that I have reunited with my wife. We are very happy, and I’ve decided that my future lies in England. It gives me free range to continue my preparations”.

Rosalind got on her feet, and reached for James hand; but he stepped back, to put some distance between them. “James…”, she said almost pleadingly. “Each of the potential buyers will want to keep me happy, so they will all be working to keep each other at bay. No one will touch you”, James said. And neither will you, apparently, Rosalind thought to herself. “This way, you are protected, until it is no longer necessary”. “And when will that be?”. “That is still to be determined”. James went back to his seat. “I am yet to purchase a ship, and I’m also still working on safe passage through the American blockade”. “And after you get that?”, Rosalind asked. “After I get that, I will go. You will be free of me”. He more or less ingested a piece of meat, looking like he could care less about the taste – he was only feeding a hunger, not enjoying a meal. “I will make out papers to leave you Chamber House. You can sell it or stay here, that is up to you… I will also leave you money; enough to keep you comfortable”.

Rosalind felt cold all over. James entire explanation had seemed indifferent to her emotions, how she’d longed for him for so long. “And I cannot come with you?”. He seemed surprised at her question, as if he’d never considered the possibility. “Why would you do that?”, he asked. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Because you are my husband. Because I loved you and you loved me, and maybe…”. “I told you. None of that”. He pushed away his plate. “Now, Mrs. Delaney, I have a use for you, and you have a use for me. Do we have an accord?”.

Rosalind looked at the garnet ring on her right hand. She’d kept it there for 7 years, unable to let go of him; but also, unable to wear it on the finger he had put it on himself, 3 years before that. “Why did you marry me?”, she asked. James met her eyes. His expression warmed; and he furrowed his brow, as if to make himself come across harder than he felt inside. “Because I was selfish. You did not see me as I was – as I am. You saw things in me I wanted to believe were there. It made me want you, but you deserved better”. “I still believe those things about you”. “Then you are a fool”. “I think you are the fool. There is no darkness without light. Goodnight, husband”.

She left the room, and went up the stairs; leaving James to his thoughts and plans.

---

In the morning, Rosalind woke up in determination. If James wanted a wife, he would get one. She held no hope that he would change his mind, and decide that he wanted her back; but if he was insistent on travelling to America – if that was what would make him whatever version of happy it was possible for him to be – she would do her part to make that happen. To add to that, she had no wish to be kidnapped, raped or tortured; and the only way to avoid that, seemed to be to go with the arrangement James had proposed.

Once dressed in her best morning dress, and she had made up her hair in a fashionable yet appropriately demure manner, she made her way downstairs to face her husband. He was not in the sitting room, but she found him nursing what looked like a terrible hangover, in the kitchen. Brace was seated by the fireplace, scratching the dog behind its ears. His face lit up when he saw her. “Good morning, miss Beauchamp!”, he said. “Mrs. Delaney from here on, Brace”, she smiled. The butler’s smile widened. “Coffee?”. He poured her a cup, and she sat down on one of the wobbly chairs, across the table from James; and looked over the kitchen. It was even drearier than the rest of the house; clearly vermin infested, and in need of a cleaning.

“I have terms”, she said. James looked up at her from his own cup; clearly wanting nothing but to be left alone. “Terms? You get protection for as long as needed; then this house, and money to live”, he said. “What else could you want?”. Rosalind took a deep breath, and tried to look as calm as possible. “Yes… the house. No lady with any kind of respect for herself, or her reputation, would live in it, in the state it is in now”, she said. “It must be cleaned; the leaking from the roof must be fixed; the furniture needs mending; and I want new curtains… Oh, and fresh flowers in every room”. “Why?”, James grunted. “I shall have to invite ladies for afternoon tea, and I will not have them gossiping about me being a bad housekeeper”. James looked disgusted at the prospect. “Tea…”. Rosalind smiled brightly. “Yes. Feel free to stay away on such occasions, if you are not comfortable with it. We will also need to light the fireplaces in all the rooms in use. It’s too cold here”. “There is not warmth in the Delaney house”, her husband grunted. “There will be now”, she retorted. “Hmm…”, James said. “Anything else?” “Yes”, she replied, and took a sip of her coffee. “The cleaning of the house shall extend to its inhabitants. Including the dog. Does he have a name?”. “Yes”, James growled. “It’s dog”. “Hmm”, Rosalind nodded.

Brace cleared his throat. “If I am to clean this whole house…”, he began. “You will not have to do it alone. We will employ a maid”. The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “Just for propriety’s sake, Brace. Don’t worry. She does not need to live here, and I can tend to my own dressing in the morning”. “You seem quite capable of that”, James muttered, and gave her a once over. “Ah, a compliment! How kind of you, husband”, Rosalind jeered. “You will of course have to extend those on occasion, especially in company, and when we promenade in public”. “I do not promenade”, James said, and took a sip of his coffee. “You do now. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, after church”. James sputtered in disbelief and disgust. “We must keep up appearances, James. Otherwise, this will never work”. James let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a growl. “Agreed”, he said, and got on his feet.

“One last thing”, Rosalind said, halting him. James looked about ready to throw something heavy. “I will do my part to make your travelling to America possible; but as long as you are here, you will treat me with the respect a wife deserves. I do not expect you to be kind, or in any way affectionate and loving – you have made it clear that is not possible for you – but you will speak to me with curtesy, be honest and faithful; and never again imply that I am a whore”. “You dislike whores?”, James asked, a smile ghosting his face. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met one, so cannot say I do. After all, a woman must do what she can to survive in this world”, Rosalind replied. “But personally, I prefer sex without monetary exchange".

She got on her feet, and with a final smile, she left the kitchen; leaving a flabbergasted looking butler, and an angry looking husband in her wake. Rosalind smirked to herself, as she went to her room, to write down her plans for the renovation of Chamber House.

Soon after, she heard the front door slam, and felt the house shake from the sheer force of it.

---

She took in her lunch and dinner alone. In the evening, she was brushing her hair by the vanity, when her bedroom door opened, and James stood there, wet from the rainfall, and a devil in his eyes. Droplets of water fell from the brim of his hat, and onto his already soaking coat.

“Who?”, he said hoarsely. “What?”, Rosalind asked, shaken by his demeanor. “Who did you fuck?”, he growled. “Who did you let in you bed, while you belonged to me?”. She swallowed hard, and tried for a proud expression. “Maybe there was someone before you…”, she said. “No. You were untouched when I left. Now you are not. Who?”. He walked closer to her, and she got on her feet, backing away. “Geary?”. “No! I would never… Never him".

James grabbed her hand, and held it up in front of his, as if examining it. His grip on her wasn’t painful, but there was no way of releasing herself from it. He was strong, and had his mind set in one thing. Answers. They had not stood so close in years. “Then, who did this hand bring pleasure, hmm?”. He tugged her close, and with a firm grip on her wrist, he used his free arm to hold her in place against him; pressing it against her lower back. Rutting his hips forwards, they met hers, and Rosalind found it difficult to breathe, from the friction James' movement created. “And this? Tell me…”.

James broad frame was tense as a bowstring about to snap. His wet coat made the fabric of Rosalind’s nightgown damp, and she shivered, both from cold and from James pressing his groin against her own. “If I tell you, what will you do?”, she whispered. “I will kill him, for touching what is mine", James replied. “You left behind what was yours 10 years ago”, Rosalind retorted. “Since then, it has been mine to do with as I please. And for that, I will not let you commit murder. Do you mean to tell me you never laid with another woman while you were gone?". James growled some words Rosalind didn’t understand. She looked him in the eyes, never blinking or turning her gaze. She would not be intimidated. She was not in the wrong. “You don’t want me anymore. You should not be disturbed by the idea that another man does".

Unable to keep eye contact, James stepped back, letting out a snarling hiss, before turning around, and storming out of the room. “You left me, James. You left!”, Rosalind called after him. He slammed the door shut, and she fell to her knees, finally giving in to tears of heartache and a frustration over a need not fulfilled. She wanted her husband, soul and body; her own was practically screaming for his touch.

After a while, she climbed in to bed, and fell asleep, numb and empty of tears.

---

There were noises from the attic all night. Rosalind woke more than once, believing she’d heard voices, or maybe just one voice, having a conversation with itself.

When she woke in the morning, she spent some time mentally preparing herself for another day of loveless matrimony; and an, in spite of that, jealous husband. Then again, jealousy might be the wrong word. For all she knew, he might just be unhappy that someone touched his property. Brace had prepared breakfast for her in the sitting room. The house seemed, for once, not to be making a sound, and the silence was almost deafening.

“Where is he?”, she asked, once Brace entered the room, to take away James' uneaten breakfast. ”Finding another way to get himself killed, I’m sure", Brace grunted. “He left before sunrise”. “Why is he like this?”, Rosalind sighed. “What broke him?”. Brace looked at her with pained eyes. “James was broken long before he even knew it himself”, he said. “Whatever happened to him after he left England just brought it out, I’m afraid”. “I wish I had known…”. “Would you not have married him then?”. “I would. But maybe if I’d known, I could have…”. She couldn’t finish the sentence. “Saved him?”, Brace said. She looked down. “I believe that was his hope as well. I never saw him more alive, than just after he met and proposed to you”. “Then why did he leave?”, she whispered. “That is not for me to say, ma’am. But if he could have stayed, I believe he would have”. The butler gave her a sad smile disappeared out of the room again; leaving Rosalind to ponder his words, and remember.

---

There had been a ball, with drinks that were far too strong. She’d worn her favorite gown; one of red velvet, that she had made herself. Cadets from the academy had been present, and she’d not wanted for dance-partners. The only uniformed man who would not dance, stood brooding in a corner; gazing towards her once in a while. He looked deep in thought, and whatever that thought was, had put a deep furrow between his brows. Something made her want to see him smile, and when her partner in the next dance stepped on her toes for the third time, she caught the cadet’s gaze, and rolled her eyes. A hint of a smile traced his lips, and she felt her heart flutter at the sight. They’d spent the rest of the night in conversation, and when no one had looked he had broken all rules of propriety, and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of her lips. She had told herself that it was intoxication that had held her from slapping him; but truthfully, she knew better.

They had spent every chance they had the next month together, and whenever they had a private moment, their lips would meet; with each kiss growing bolder and more heated. Rosalind lived for his smiles and his gentle fingertips grazing her cheek. She knew it was lust, but she also knew it was love; and when suddenly he had dropped on one knee, she had not hesitated to agree to marry him.

They were wed six weeks after their meeting, with Rosalind never having been surer of anything in her life, than of James’ love for her, and hers for him. Then came the wedding night. With her heart in her chest, she had waited in what would be their bedroom from then on. He’d never entered the room, and she didn’t see him again for another 10 years.

---

The rest of the morning passed quietly. Unable to leave the house, Rosalind resolved to entertain herself by getting acquainted with the dog; who seemed to have no problem eating the salted beef she herself could not stomach. As she sat on the sofa to embroider, it fell asleep with its head on her feet. In the afternoon, she read the first three chapters of a book, before realizing that someone had ripped out pages from it; probably having used them for kindling. Boredom was taking over, but luckily Brace was obliged to play a few rounds of cards with her, before he had to tend to the kitchen. She noticed movement outside, and looking out the window, she saw a pair of rugged looking men tending to the garden, trying to make it look presentable.

James returned to the house just after she’d finished her dinner, with a young, dirty looking woman at his heels. He stepped in to the sitting room with a glum look on his face. “Your maid”, he said. “She will be here only during the day”. “I have employment elsewhere to attend to”, the young woman said; not meeting Rosalind’s eyes. Rosalind got on her feet and approached her husband. “I would have liked to speak to her, before you hired her”, she said. James stepped towards the dining table, away from Rosalind, and poured himself a brandy. “She has experience in the service industry, and you said you did not dislike whores”. The young woman stifled a smile.

Rosalind sighed defeatedly. “Right. What is your name, miss?”, she asked the woman. “Pearl, Mrs. Delaney”, the woman replied. “I’m glad to meet you, Pearl. Are you aware what your duties will be, as a maid?”. “Cleaning things, I suppose”, Pearl said. “I can’t cook, but I can make tea”. Pearl suddenly looked nervous that she might be sent away. “I don’t steal, and I don’t have no diseases!”. Rosalind smiled at her. “I’m sure you will do fine, Pearl. And we have Brace for cooking; don’t worry”. Pearl visibly relaxed. Rosalind noticed James looking at her through the corner of his eye, as he drank from his glass. “We shall have to find you a suitable dress, of course… Oh, and; I will on occasion receive guests here. I would very much appreciate it if you did not mention your other profession when I do”. “Just keep quiet whenever strangers are in the house”, James grunted. Rosalind sent him a chiding look. “When can you start?”, she asked. “Whenever you need me, ma’am”. “Tomorrow at 10 am, then”, Rosalind smiled. Pearl curtsied awkwardly, and took her leave.

Rosalind went back to sit on the sofa, and James took his seat in the chair across from her. He drained his glass, and set it down on the table next to him. Brace had left the mail for him there, and he picked it up, before seemingly remembering something. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out another letter. “This arrived for you at your former lodgings. Your landlady has opened and resealed it”, he said, and leaned forwards to hand it to her. “It’s from Mr. Geary”. “Did you read it as well?”, she muttered, and took the letter. “No, but I recognize his handwriting on the address. It looks like it was written in less anger than the one he sent me yesterday, threatening to kill me if I did not disappear from England again”. His tone was indifferent. “Well, I suppose it’s good you’re on your way to be doing that, then”, Rosalind said. He met her eyes again, and grunted nonsensically, before sitting back and going through his own mail.

Rosalind opened Geary’s letter.

To; Rosalind Beauchamp c/o Fanny Owen

My dearest Rosalind. I came to call upon you this Friday, but was told you were visiting with the countess Musgrove. It was my wish to extend my apologies for my unfortunate behavior when I saw you last. I realize I might have come across coarse in my manner of showing my affections towards you; but I pray you understand that I was struck by the urgency of the matter. With Delaney’s return, you see how I felt it necessary to make my plans of having you for my wife, known to you. I understand that for propriety’s sake, you had to let him escort you home; but I also know that deep in your heart you must long for me, as I do for you. Delaney will either fake his death, and leave England again, leaving you as heiress to the fortune – and the American piece of land – or actually die. Either way, you will be free of him; and we will be free to marry. We will have a rich and prosperous future together, my darling. With all my heart; Thorne.

Rosalind sighed and shook her head. “Another proposal?”, James asked. “Yes, actually”, she replied, and handed him the letter. James read through it quickly. “Well, he’s right about one thing. Before too long, you will be free to marry… Even him, if you’re daft enough to do so”. “He only wants me, because he thinks he can get your money that way”, Rosalind said. Picking up her needlework, she accidentally pricked her finger. “Fuck!”, she hissed, and put her bleeding finger in her mouth. James looked at her in startled amusement; his lips curling upwards. “I think you underestimate yourself”.

She got on her feet, and went to leave the room, when she made a decision, and turned around to face James again. “His name was William”, she said. James looked at her in confusion, before realization came through in his eyes. “William”, he grunted, and looked into the fire. “He was a soldier, but that is as much as I learnt about him”, Rosalind continued. “I was widowed, lonely and heartbroken; and for a moment, he made me believe I could be happy again”. “It only took him a moment, then?”, James said with a cold smile; but frowned when she began walking towards the door. “Rose…”. She halted, and looked at him again. “Don’t call me that…”, she said quietly. “I cannot bear to hear it now. That is what you called me when you loved me”. “No one else has ever called you that?”, he grunted. Rosalind shook her head, and swallowed hard. “No. That at least, was only ever yours. Good night”.

She retired to her bedroom.

---

She was in a forest, strange sounds and whispers surrounding her. He grabbed her shoulders from behind her, and leaned in to whisper into her ear. “Rose… my Rose”, he said. “Am I?”, she whispered. His arms snaked around her waist, and she leaned into his chest; feeling his lips against her cheek. “Yes. Always”. She turned around, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Not out there. Out there I am nothing to you. It is agony, my love”.

He leaned back, and put a finger under her chin; smiling at her. “Then let us stay here. We don’t have to go back”. The whispering around them intensified, and Rosalind looked around her. “I can’t live in a dream”. James took her right hand, and pulled the garnet ring from her finger; then lifted her left hand, and slid it onto her ring finger. “This is where it belongs, Rose”, he breathed, and leaned in; placing a soft kiss on her lips.

She woke with a gasp. Looking at her right hand, she panicked when she saw that the ring was gone from her finger. She frantically searched the bedsheets and cover to see where it had gone to; when she saw that it was right where it belonged. On her left ring finger.

---

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

What about Aragorn x witch reader? The night of Helms Deep battle she helps Aragorn put on his armor and get ready and she tells Aragorn she will keep him safe and assure him that they will survive? Aragorn was everyone's emotional support that night the man needs someone to do the same for him🥺

This request is so cool! Let’s do this!

You were a bit of an odd case amongst the court of Théoden. The man had been ill, years prior to everything that was going on now. You had saved his life with an unconventional remedy and the man started asking you for more assistance. Or at least this was the story everyone was told. Your days amongst his court were typically very pleasant though. This however was one of the worst days of your life. The man that you had spent multiple years helping had betrayed you and stuck you in the dungeons. 

You paced when you were bored and when your legs were too tired you sat. Éowyn was the only thing keeping you alive, you being too frail now to even function. Fucking Grima allowed Saruman to seep into Théoden’s mind, poisoning his boy and soul. 

You laid on the floor, clinging to the only crack of sunlight you could find, unaware that Gandalf was there now with the future heroes of Middle Earth. You coughed, sick from the lack of basic human needs and struggling to remain alive. In one last poor attempt to fight you said “help”. You weren’t expecting an answer.

Gandalf turned, looking around. “Is there something wrong Gandalf?” Legolas asked. “Do you have a wizard in your court?” Gandalf asked Théoden who was now well and alive. Théoden’s eyes widened and Éowyn took off in the direction of the dungeons. The group all followed her, finding you barely breathing. “My gods.” Théoden gaped at the sight of you chained to the wall, eyes tired, skin pale. “Get this woman some water!” Gandalf demanded. A guard ran over with a pitcher of water. “It’s Grima he let--” “We know...” “Saruman has betrayed us all” “We know.” Éowyn soothed, you leaning against her. “I’m so sorry Lady Y/n.” Théoden said. “I should apologize to you my king... I let you fall into the hands of Grima, I should have been more vigilant.” You muttered. Aragorn looked in your eyes, you meeting his gaze. You seemed exhausted just by the mere act of standing. 

“Sir Aragorn can you take her to the-” Aragorn needed no further instruction, lifting you up. He walked to the healers, you still in his arms. “I’ve seen you before.” you muttered, groggily. “I do not recall when we have met.” Aragorn said. “It was not a meeting... It was a vision.” You muttered. Aragorn tensed. “You are Isildur’s-” “No. You’re mistaken, my lady.” He halted. 

Hours passed before you joined everyone in the main hall again. “Lady Y/n, it is good to see you recovered.” Théoden said as you walked. Aragorn was shocked at the sight of you. No longer were you frail, no longer were you pale and close to death, you were beautiful. Your hair was pulled back but you were a dress similar to Éowyn but it was blue, reminding Aragorn of Arwen. You stood up straight, bowing to the king. “Now for a proper introduction. This is Lady Y/n L/n of Rohan. She is our court mage.” Theoden introduced. “I do not deserve such a warm welcome your majesty.” you said softly. “Nonsense. She’s more of a daughter to me than an assistant.” Théoden said. “You speak more kindly than I deserve.” You muttered. “Y/n, where is this coming from?” Eowyn asked. “I should’ve done more than what I did to keep Grima away from the both of you.” you muttered. Aragorn noticed your eyes, sad as they looked forward. “My dear girl, an army couldn’t have swayed my way once Saruman took control.” He said. 

You still seemed remorseful, looking down. “Lady Y/n, it is an honor to finally meet the lady of the lake.” Gandalf said, Legolas gaping. You turned. “You are the Lady of the Lake?” Legolas asked. “What has earned you that title I wonder?” Gimli asked. Aragorn was equally as confused as the dwarf on the title. “You know not of the lady of the lake--” “Shh!” You hushed. Footsteps came from behind the door before it opened, two terrified looking children stepping into the hall. “These two children rode in from a village in the west.” A guard said. You frowned. “Then we are in need of evacuation.” you said. You kept a stern face, Aragorn raising a brow until you looked the little girl in the eyes and kneeled to her level. 

“What is your name?” You asked, your voice soft and expression softening. “Freda- my name is Freda.” She whimpered. You brushed the hair from her face. “The children will remain with Lady Éowyn, my lord I request that we-” “We will send our citizens to Helm’s Deep.” Théoden said. You nodded. “You will help the citizens--” “No my lord.”  you halted. He rose a brow, as did Aragorn and Legolas. “I charge with the men, you need protection outside of a sword.” you stated. He sighed. “I cannot ask this of you. It is like letting my own child go out there.” He said. “Nor can I ask you to lead towards death, for it is like sending my father to his doom.” you said simply. He sighed, Aragorn looking at you. “Then you charge with us.” He said. You nodded, turning on your heel.

The next time Aragorn saw you, you were in armor, your hair pulled back out of your face. You seemed quiet, watching the new addition to the group in silence. You rode next to Aragorn, not speaking as you listened to Gimli’s rather odd tales of home. “So your title.” Aragorn started. You looked over, nodding. “You’re referring to this ‘lady of the lake’ business I suppose.” you shrugged. “What did earn you that name?” Gimli asked. You chuckled, looking ahead at Théoden as he rode. You glanced at your wrists for a moment, them being covered by your vambraces. 

“I was almost dead. Goblins had stormed my village and nearly took my life. They left me for dead in a lake not far from it.” You muttered. Theoden looked at you with a sad look. “Something in me wanted to keep fighting. It wanted to stay alive.” Aragorn noticed that look in your eyes, it being far off and pained. “So when they least expected it, when they were removing the sword from my brother’s corpse all they saw was a woman with glowing white eyes emerge from the waters before they were struck down and killed with my powers.” You explained. Aragorn looked at the sword on your side. “Was that your brother’s then?” He asked. “Yes.” you nodded. “How did you end up with Lord Theoden?” Gimli asked. You smiled kindly to the dwarf. “I went unconscious after using my abilities. He found me, asking if I wished to stay with his niece. I said no after first but not long after he found me he fell ill. My mother taught me the ways of medicine and I nursed him back to health. After helping him his villagers started coming to me. After two years, I agreed to help him.” You answered. “You seem happy here.” Aragorn said. You looked at Éowyn who was smiling at something a villager said. “I am.” you answered. 

Aragorn liked that smile. It was beautiful, it reminded him of home. “I know of an elven woman who is skilled with water magic.” Aragorn said. “I stayed with the woman you are speaking of.” You said. He blinked. “Arwen Undomiel is the woman you are speaking of, correct?” you asked. He nodded slowly, raising a brow. “Before I lived in the village I stayed with the elves. I spent most of my time in Lothlorien but I also spent some of my time in Rivendell, learning the art of healing from Elrond.” You said. “Why not stay with your family?” Gimli asked. “Power without control is a dangerous thing sir Gimli.” you said. “You trained with us?” Legolas asked. “Yes. I have indeed met your father. Great man. Stern. But great.” you said. Legolas seemed to tense up at the mention of his father. “There are many strange things about you Y/n.” Aragorn stated. “I know. But strange and mysterious is more fun that way, don’t you think?” You asked, clearly amused by the man’s confusion. He gave you a small smile, your heart doing a small backflip as you looked at him.

“Are you close with Lady Arwen?” you asked. “She is practically my sister.” He admitted. You looked over confused. “Elrond raised me.” he said. You rose a brow. “Then how have we never crossed paths if you were in the same places that I was.” you asked. “I am much older than I appear, my lady.” He said. You looked at the man confused. “I am 87.” He said, you blinking with surprise. “You have seen many winters my lord when I have only seen 25.” you said. “You are wise for a woman who is so young.” He said, smiling. Again your heart pounded in your ears. “I have seen many things in this world that provided me with wisdom.” you told him, smiling at him. He felt this strange feeling in his chest. 

You noticed a bird in the sky, sticking your arm out so it would perch. It landed, you looking at it as you fed it a cracker from your pack. “There are enemies nearby.” you said. Aragorn rose a brow. “You’ve kept a sentinel?” He asked. “Yes I have.” You answered before lifting your arm, the hawk flying away. You drew your sword, Theoden riding off to the side instructing the men to protect and fight as best as they could. You all rode away from the group, deterring the enemy away from the refugees. 

Aragorn immediately noticed you abandoning the horse you rode in on, sending it back to the group before you swung your sword, cutting down an orc. You fought hard, Aragorn noticing your skill. But the large thing he noticed was your habit of keeping close to Théoden. By no means was the man unskilled for battle, he was fighting very well. You though, had this raw energy of fighting that seemed untouchable. 

You stabbed an enemy close to you, noticing a warg hurdling towards Aragorn before you stuck out your hand, an invisible force knocking it back out of the way of him. It seemed annoyed by your intervention, standing back up. “Shit.” you breathed as it prepared to charge. It sprinted forward, readying your blade before someone blocked for you, attacking the warg before it could hit you. You looked at him, nodding as a thank you before another warg bit your arm, dragging you as it ran. Aragorn frowned, about to stab it before he realized that his boot had latched itself to the saddle that an orc rode on. “CUT IT FREE!” you yelled, smacking the warg to make it let go. It was in vain as Aragorn made one last attempt to do as he was told before the warg launched itself off of the cliff. 

You managed to get free, cutting the loose leather strap of the boot away, pulling Aragorn close. “What are you-” “Trust me” was the last thing Aragorn heard. 

Your bodies collided with the waters, it feeling like concrete when you landed. You both washed up on shore, you being a bit more lucid than Aragorn who was still unconscious. “Spirits -o nature hear nin plea. Help nin help nin núr. Help nin help hon núr (spirits of nature, hear my plea, please help me help my people. Help me help him)” You whispered, your voice traveling on the wind before you closed your eyes. You felt something hanging over you, you looking up at a horse… the horse you sent back to the group. You pulled yourself up by the reins, lifting Aragorn up. He groggily climbed onto the horse, you doing the same before it rode on. 

You chose to rest while riding, Aragorn slowly waking up. He was leaning against something. He leaned back, his vision slowly returning before seeing you, slightly hunched over as you slept. He was grateful for you. You had saved his life taking most of that fall and he had been much appreciative of that. He noticed that peaceful look on your face, your eyes closed, hair damp from the waters of the river and cheeks slightly rosy from the cold. He held you closer, providing his body heat to keep you warm and you tensed up at first. 

It wasn’t until dusk that you actually woke up, Aragorn holding the reins to the horse. You leaned up after realizing that you had fallen asleep against him. “You’re awake.” He noticed. “Yes….” you muttered before noticing something. You leaned forward, looking at the horizon and frowning. You took the reins from Aragorn, making the horse ride faster. “Y/n, What are you doing?” He asked. “There are forces coming from the west, we don’t have much time before they reach Helm’s Deep!” you said.

So you rode, clearly worried. Aragorn couldn’t stop looking at you, something was different about you. Maybe it was the fact that you were no longer a frail woman who needed assistance to even do so much as walk. Maybe it was the fact that you were so determined to save your people from a potentially hopeless battle. Aragorn found himself admiring you. 

You rode through the lands, encouraging your horse to go as fast as it could before arriving at the gates. Éowyn was overwhelmed when she saw you, her hugging you on sight. “You’re alive! I knew it!” She said. “Where is Lord Théoden?” you asked. “He is in the hall, Y/n I don’t think he--” “Forces are coming and fast. We must fight, we do not have a choice.” you said before walking past her. You shoved the doors open, walking into the hold. “Lady Y/n!” Théoden gasped, hugging you. “The people are in danger my lord, we must fight. We have no choice” You said. “We do not have the men-” “Then we must call for aid my lord, we have to do something!” you said, urging him to fight. “Y/n, you act as if we have resources to do so.” he said. “We do, we can ask for Gondor’s aid!” you said. “Gondor!?” “Yes my lord! If we call for aid-” “Calling Gondor would be useless.They will do nothing!” He said. “My lord if we fight with only our men we risk leaving them all to die.” You said. He let out a frustrated sigh. “If you do not wish to call for aid then I could-” “No.” He halted you. You frowned. “Sire, our people need protection, if you would just let me-” “I will not allow you to do that Y/n, do not press this any further.” Théoden halted. “Sire-” “I REFUSE Y/N, NOW STOP!” He yelled. You swallowed hard, Aragorn looking at you as you pushed past him and walked out. 

You started taking off your arm braces, Aragorn walking after you. “Y/n, there may yet be hope.” He said. You shook your head. “So long as it is only our men that charge, there is no hope for survival sir Aragorn.” You breathed, braiding your hair. He frowned, putting a hand on your shoulder. “There is still hope Y/n, if you would trust me.” He said. You looked in his eyes, before looking down. “There is one last thing that we can do my lord…” you said with a sigh. You looked at your wrists, the markings of chains embedded on your skin. “What is that?” He asked. You looked at him and shook your head. “I am… Not what you believe me to be.” You told him. “What is it that you mean?” He asked. “My lord I am not in Théoden’s court as a healer or a sorceress.” you said. He raised a brow. “Then what are you there for?” He asked. “I am a weapon.” you answered. 

He looked at you. “I am not to use my abilities unless it is life or death for it may kill me.” You admitted. Aragorn frowned. “Then no, we will not use that.” He said. “We have no choice, if it is my life for hundreds then so be it.” you said. “I cannot lose you!” He said. “Why? Because you care for me!? I care too much for my people than to sacrifice their winning chance because you decided to feel something for me.” you snapped. He sighed, closing his eyes. “If we lose you, who’s to say that sacrifice would not be in vain?” He asked. You sighed. “I must try Aragorn. Even if it does kill me.” you said softly. He closed his eyes and you put a hand to his cheek.

“Im am sorrui an what cin lothron lose Aragorn. But know i whatever does happen. Im ceri- care an cin. (I am sorry for what you may lose Aragorn. But know that whatever does happen... I do care for you.)” You said softly. He opened his eyes, looking at you. “I should find the armory.” you said, clearing your throat and leaving.

Hours had past, the sun was falling on the horizon and war was creeping closer. You had remained in the armory, watching children who shouldn’t be prepping to die, prepare for death. You looked over, Aragorn putting on his armor in silence. You walked over, tightening a strap he couldn’t reach. He cleared his throat. “Are you really… going out there?” he asked. “Unless a miracle happens then I will make whatever sacrifice I have to.” you muttered. Aragorn looked down, clearly saddened by this. First he lost a woman who was practically his sister by sailing away to the Undying Lands. Now he was losing someone all over again. 

You heard a loud horn, looking up confused. “That is no orc horn.” Legolas noticed. You rushed off with Aragorn, walking out to see elves. You paused, looking at the sight in front of you. “Who… called for aid?” You asked, looking at the elven general. “I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together.” Haldir said. Aragorn smiled. “We come to honor that allegiance.” Haldir added. “Mae govannen, Haldir. (Welcome, Haldir)” Aragorn greeted. He hugged the man, earning a small smile from you. “You are most welcome!” Aragorn said clearly relieved by the man’s presence alone. 

Morale boosted greatly as you continued to prepare for war. Théoden found you putting on your breastplate. “Y/n… a word.” He said. You turned around. “Yes, my lord?” you asked. “I apologize for yelling at you earlier, it was wrong of me.” He said. He noticed you didn’t put on your vambraces. “Are you planning on using your abilities?” he asked. You swallowed. “...I saw those forces Théoden… There’s too many… We will lose.” you muttered. “...Do what you think is best.” He said after a long silence. You looked up. “Sire-” “you have always done what was best for our people. You’ve fought strongly and bravely and when I said you were like my daughter, I meant it.” Théoden said. “Sire… Do you think I should use my abilities?” you asked. “I think you should only use them in a moment you think it’s truly needed.” He said. You nodded before he walked out. 

You walked to the wall, standing next to Aragorn. “You seem a bit more confident.” you muttered, looking at the man as he adjusted his boot. “Indeed. We have more aid.” he said. “Aragorn I..” you sighed and shook your head, him raising a brow. “Y/n if you wish to say something I’d advise you to say it before we possibly die.” he said. You rolled your eyes. "Great job on boosting the morale sir Aragorn." You muttered. "Speak now or forever hold your peace." He said sarcastically. You sighed. "... You've been pleasant to be around. And I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. I want you to know that whatever happens out there… I'm glad that I am fighting next to you. And I'm glad that I knew you." You said to him. Aragorn rose, looking at you. You faced the battlefield, trying to ignore the gaze of the man. 

Course that became more difficult to ignore when Aragorn pulled you into a kiss. You sunk into it, your heart beating in your ears as you nearly collapsed into the man's arms. "I am glad to have you with me." He said softly. You nodded slowly before he walked off to investigate the other groups on the walls. 

Rain poured around you as twilight finally set and you could see the forces approaching. Aragorn soon came back to a place on the wall, looking at you as you stared at the forces gathering and then the chain tattoo on your wrists. Aragorn looked at you before taking your hand. You looked at him and then turned back to the battlefield. You had a dagger in your freehand, you looking at your wrist and then the battlefield again. "....Aragorn?" You muttered. He looked over. "Hmm?" He asked. "Thank you for being here." You said softly. He smiled and you looked back at the battlefield. You slid the dagger back into your holster, looking at the orcish army before you.

Perhaps you would live to see another day.

[vidalinav]

Nessian Headcanon #12: Family Edition

Since I keep seeing baby headcanons I wanted to make a list of my own :D which I’ve briefly touched on in other posts but...

Cassian and Nesta have a boatload of children (5 at the end of it all I think). The others start joking that they’re building their own army. But what really happens is that they end up taking in many children over the years because they travel often with the work they do and they see so many conditions and there’s wars and all sorts of circumstances. It’s inevitable that kids don’t have homes but they have a giant house and unending resources and the House is like a big nanny itself so they think it’s fate. 

Nesta is actually the one who brings most of the children home. The first one is a 9 year old girl, who is the angriest kid alive. Has something to do with the plot of a story I’m writing, but Nesta is basically entrusted with this kid. She’s the grand niece of someone she ends up knowing and she’s pretty magically powerful so her family would have ate her alive, so she’s asked to keep her safe and whatnot. Her name is Magda but she goes by Maggie. She does not like Cassian whatsoever in the beginning, and she is horribly rude to Nesta. But Nesta does not care at all, she’s like okay get it out, say worse. Like she’s so chill, because she knows how it feels to be that angry. Maggie and Nesta end up being really close to the point where Maggie does not like being away from Nesta and gets very protective of her even to other members of the IC. She’ll fight first and ask questions later. Cassian and her form a bond actually not by fighting at all, but because Maggie does so many experiments that end up going awry. She’s a fae and has got magic up the wazoo and she’s a book nerd, and she’s kind of a trouble maker, and Cassian thrives. He loves her because she’s like a smaller more diabolical version of Nesta. The House is amused by their antics usually. 

Nesta ends up getting pregnant for their second child and this kid is the only one they actually have on their own. Her name is Lyra, and Maggie thinks that it’s hilarious that Cassian lives in a house with all girls. Maggie is about 12 when they have her, and Maggie at first does not take kindly to Lyra, because she starts feeling like they have their own family and she’s just the kid who eventually is going to have to go back to her other family (because that’s a plot too that I won’t go into to) but they try so much to include her, because Maggie is their child. No question. Nesta ends up telling Cassian that she’s pregnant by giving him an enchanted painting, which is the work of all three Archeron sisters. Elain for seeing what the child would look like, Feyre for painting, and Nesta for enchanting it so that if they have more children the picture will get bigger and there will be room for Feyre to paint the others. So one big family portrait. In that picture, Maggie is tucked in between the two with the baby/toddler. Dark hair, big blue eyes... maybe hazel. Maybe one of each (I’m really not sure). The best parts of both Nesta and Cassian though. She’s so gorgeous. Prettiest little girl. But yeah going back to Maggie, they ask her during this picture time (probably solstice present time) if Maggie wants to be an Archeron. (Another headcanon for another time, but Cassian marries Nesta too and becomes an Acheron). So, does she want to do this? Absolutely, and at this point she already start calling them mom and dad and just referring to them as such, so that’s their kiddos. 

Third and fourth are siblings. They’re from the continent. Maggie is 14, Lyra is close to 2. The siblings are brought by Nesta who is doing some thing that I cannot say because I have not made it up yet, but she finds them at the scene of a Massacre in hiding. The oldest is close to 6, the other is probably 1-ish. The oldest will not let them take the baby from her. The baby is a boy. They don’t speak the common tongue, which is any issue, but they hire a tutor to both talk to the little girl and then also to teach them ALL (everyone in their household) the language that the two siblings speak as well as teach them how to speak the common Prythrian language. So everyone ends up learning. The little girl is taken under the wing of Maggie, who is the perfect older sister/camp counselor as she likes to refer to herself after there’s more kids. They don’t know her name for the LONGEST time, because she won’t speak at all, but she ends up loving Cassian because he makes her laugh and he brings her a thousand stuffed bears because at one point she won’t stop crying and he brings them home and makes funny voices with them, and carries her on his shoulders, and she has the sweetest giggle. But eventually they end up naming her Ursella which she ends up going by Ella when she gets older, because her nickname with Cassian is little bear. They do ask her later when she talks if she remembers her old name and her birthday since they don’t know, but she doesn’t say that she does, which may be a lie, but Ella happily goes by Ella, and they give her a choice to choose one random day in the year to be her birthday, but she chooses to celebrate her birthday on the day they brought her in. She calls it her re-birthday.

The baby boy they name Nico. It’s actually a common Illyrian name and Cassian knows that the little boy is technically not Illyrian but it is his first son, and he really wants to give him that piece of him. Cassian does ask him when he’s about 10 if he’d prefer a name that’s based on his own culture, because they make sure that’s very integrated in their home life, because of course Cassian loves his culture and Nesta has that anthropological eye, so she knows and learns so much and they just love their children so much that they want all of them, every piece that they come with. But Nico likes his name, and he’s his dads through and through. But he LOVES Nesta. He’s a momma’s boy for sure, which I guess just makes him similar to Cassian. He does not like learning though, so Nesta usually has to teach him herself instead of having tutors, and she spends extra time with him going through his lessons. Lyra and him grow up together closer to age, so they pick on each other A LOT, but ultimately they grow up to have that relationship like I can pick on you but no one else can. They’re super close. If you want one, you find the other. They both will be together somewhere making a mess of things. Ella is the one who usually is like would you please be loud somewhere else. She ends up getting into music--playing instruments and so she generally prefers quietness to study and practice. Violin is her forte. 

The next boy comes about 4 yrs later. Maggie is 18, Lyra is 6, Nico is 5/6 ish. Ella is 10. The boy is about 12. He’s Illyrian and Cassian finds him this time and takes him to Nesta first, but Nesta is like why are you asking lol this is our new son. He’s a “bastard” unfortunately. I hate that word. But he has learned to fight, Cassian found him in the fighting pits in an Illyrian camp a couple hours away from Windhaven, and the situation was so much like his except this kid was never given a home like he was. So, he spent a good couple of weeks trying to get on his good side enough for him to trust him and to want to go someplace safer and warm. He hates Cassian a lot at first... while at the same time being like you’re the hero I’ve heard about. So admiration but also a touch of resentment and anger at the world. Cassian doesn’t know what to do with that, because still to the day he does not handle emotion like Nesta does. He understands it but he doesn’t know what to say, what to do, his go to is always training, but training is not what this child needs. So again, this is Nesta’s forte. Interestingly enough, she’s very gentle with kids. She’s empathetic, soft, but not condescending. She gives everyone the same respect so it helps a lot when he sees that and he’s never had a mom before who tucks him in or makes sure he’s feeling well. His name is Julian. I forgot that part and it turns out he’s HATES fighting. But he really likes plants. So he ends up spending a lot of time with Elain when she visits. He’s fascinated by them and ends up having his own garden. But because Nesta is magical in this headcanon (because she’s more witchy in my fics) he learns A LOT about poisons. Not because Nesta teaches him, but because he finds her books and reads them and starts growing them. This becomes a problem, because when Julian doesn’t like his tutors or teachers, he starts trying to poison them. Like not killing them, but he knows which will give stomach aches, which will give rashes. Nesta is both proud and reprimanding. 

I do feel like they might have more, but I don’t know for now I feel this is good for their set family. Five in total for their first gaggle of children lol. But all of them are asked if they want to be an Archeron. All of them say yes. All of them have each other’s back even if they have screaming matches on the daily. The house is mostly chaotic at all times but the House loves having people in it and laughing and being filled to the brim with stuffed animals and train sets and plants and music and family members coming in and out since Nyx visits often because he’s an only child for a very long time with Feyre taking more of a position in court rulings and Rhysand just being generally busy because you know High Lord/High Lady stuff. I don’t see Feyre being a stay at home mom but I also don’t see Rhys being a stay at home dad, but they’re also rulers so I peg them for both being working parents, which they feel guilty about A LOT at first, and it’s something that they struggle with in the confines of their own identities and their relationship, because they love Nyx and they know they’re parents but that’s not all they are, and without having the gender role of one parent staying home it’s very difficult for them to both rule, but Rhys does not want to stop being a high lord and Feyre is bored too often and she wants to rule and she knows she can, and she has that title for a reason and wants to utilize it. So it’s a hard time, with lots of arguments, but Nyx ends up mostly going with Cassian for a good amount of the day when he’s older and they have more kids in the house, and Nyx doesn’t really know that Feyre and Rhys had this problem, because he’d just prefer to be around the other kids and it ends up working really well. 

Cassian ends up being more of the stay at home parent. I don’t know why but I feel he just gives me that vibe where forget the courtier business, if there’s no war and if the armies are generally taken care of which he does, he wants to stay home and raise his kids, which is very surprising since he’s the one who doesn’t ever take vacations. He wants to be there for every moment no matter how awkward or loud. That’s his family and he’s waited so long for them, and it’s not even about him not having that family early on, it’s because he genuinely would rather be with his kids. He’s the one who as soon as they got the siblings was like I’m going to have to take a step back, because he saw his kids every day but he just didn’t want to be away for long periods of time, and at that point he’d already taken several steps back on working, so it became more of a done deal then. He still is the general, but he gives more responsibility to Devlon and to other people he’s trained over the years to step up. So generally, Cassian will work a couple of days a week for a couple of hours or just go quickly in the evenings, go over reports if the kids are in class with their teachers, and more during certain times of the year, but he’s generally more of a family man. 

Nesta in my fic/headcanon ends up being a queen as well as a leader of the witches and the founder/leader of the Valkyrie and she owns a shipping company and she’s the cauldron’s guardian which don’t ask me to explain, it’s in this fic I’ve barely written. But she’s a “I can bake the cake and eat it too” type of person to me, and because of her magic it is easy for her to do it all because it’s like a full time job. She goes home after a certain hour and she’s back with her kiddos, and most of her jobs have other people who have a handle on things as well. So she’s not an island, but she loves having the purpose and the drive, because as much as she did like being in the library and being in Velaris and having that day to day slice of life, she likes and yearns for adventure. She’s a go-getter and is not necessarily ambitious for power, but she’s got the whole world to discover and she can have anything she’s willing to work for. She wants to be and see it all. Cassian is endlessly proud of her and is like that’s my mate, my wife. My mate. My wife. And they both end up getting what they want without having to sacrifice their own ideals. Their marriage is a collaboration and it ends up working phenomenally for the two of them and their children. 

But ultimately it’s really the House that makes it possible. Because who cooks food and cleans and supplies every need and wish and whatnot? The House. Who baby proofs? The House. The House is like I’ve always wanted a big family and boy does it get a big family. 

[bforbetterthanyou]

Why do you think Anne Boleyn was born in 1507?

Ah this question again...

I’ve actually answered this before, but tbh, I’m kinda tired and I don’t want to have to go back and look for that post.

So I think the easiest way to do this is to go in chronological order:

Anne goes to the Netherlands in 1513. Gareth Russell has pointed out that she was escorted to the continent by a man named Claude Bouton. The reason this is so significant is because, according to Canon Law (the law of the Catholic Church) girls were considered of marriageable age at 12. If Anne had been born in 1501, then her being escorted to another country by a man simply would not have happened. Once boys and girls hit marriageable age, it was highly inappropriate for them to interact with each other without others present. So, in that regard, Anne had to have been younger than 12. There’s just no other explanation. If she had been 12 (or older) she would’ve been escorted by a woman.

From 1513-late 1514, Anne lives at the court of Margaret of Austria. At the time, the minimum age for a lady-in-waiting or maid of honor was 12, which is why some people say that’s how old Anne must’ve been because otherwise, why would she be there? (We’ll talk more about that later.) However, being a maid of honor isn’t the only reason Anne could’ve been at that court. It was a common practice during this time to take on a ward—basically, someone (usually of high rank and power) would take on someone else’s child and act as a guardian for them—tending to their well-being and also, more importantly, overseeing their education. (Anne herself took on the wardship of her nephew Henry Carey after his father, William Carey’s, death in 1528.) Margaret of Austria also took on the wardships of several of her nieces and nephews, including the future Charles V and Mary of Hungary. Mary of Hungary was born in 1505 and was sent to Archduchess Margaret’s court at around the same time as Anne. Now I know what you’re thinking “okay but all those other kids were of royal blood and Margaret’s own family...so why Anne?” Well, Thomas Boleyn served as the ambassador to Margaret’s court in 1513 and, apparently, Margaret was quite fond of him. So it stands to reason that Thomas, having a young daughter and knowing that Margaret could provide some of the best and most sophisticated education in Europe, asked if Margaret would take on Anne as well and Margaret, being so fond of Thomas as she was, agreed.

Thomas Boleyn and Margaret of Austria’s comments. In a letter to Margaret of Austria in 1514, Thomas refers to Anne as “la petite Boulaine” and in a letter to Thomas Boleyn, Margaret says Anne is “so pleasant for her young age”. If Anne was as old as the other ladies in waiting, why would both Thomas and Margaret emphasize how young and small she was?

Anne writes a letter to her father in 1514. Here’s the thing, I’m not really a fan of using this letter as an argument for either date because it’s just so circumstantial. 1501 believers say that the writing is too sophisticated for a 7 year old. 1507 believers say there are too many grammatical errors for a 13 year old. Meanwhile, I’m over here thinking “how do either of those arguments make sense?” Every child is different. Every child learns at a different pace. Some children can have skills far ahead of the average for their age and some children can have skills far behind the average for their age. Anne was known to be very clever so it’s possible her learning and skills were ahead of what we would consider average for a 7 year old. As for the “grammatical errors”, I’m in my 20s and I make grammatical errors all the time. The point is, I think, no matter which side you’re on, we should all just stop using this letter as evidence altogether. There’s no way you could ever prove definitively one way or the other. My mom is a lawyer and I can tell you, if this birth date debate was a legal case, this letter would be considered inadmissible.

Anne is appointed to serve Mary Tudor in France in 1514. Okay so here’s where we get into the “how could she be a lady in waiting if she was younger than 12″ question. To answer this, let me give you the example of Anne Brandon. Anne Brandon was the daughter of Charles Brandon and was probably born around 1506. She was sent to serve Mary Tudor in 1514 at age 8. At this point, Charles was still a pretty low-ranking member of court so if he could have an exception made for his daughter then I’m sure Thomas Boleyn—who was a highly respected and well-loved ambassador—could have an exception made for his daughter. Not to mention, Mary Tudor didn’t speak any French so she wanted ladies that could speak the language and Anne would’ve learned French at Margaret’s court. Also, Mary Boleyn was there too and might’ve been around 13 so she could’ve looked out for Anne and acted as her guardian.

Anne stays in France to serve Queen Claude. This goes along with the last point. Yes, technically, the minimum age for ladies in waiting was 12, but exceptions were made all the time. Also, just like Mary Tudor couldn’t speak French, Claude couldn’t speak English so she needed ladies around that could translate whenever there were English nobles and ambassadors visiting. So it’s not really implausible to think that Claude chose Anne to serve as a translator for her despite her age.

Anne is still unmarried in 1526. This one is probably the most glaringly obvious hole in the 1501 argument. At this time, women being married young (most of the time, before they were even 20) was the norm. Since men believed that a woman’s only function was to make babies, they thought women should be doing that as soon as they were biologically able (which is why the Church said girls could be married at 12). Now obviously this wasn’t always the case. Although girls could be married at 12, most people were aware of the danger of a girl having children too young. However, most women were still married in their late teens to early twenties and it was pretty rare to find a woman who had never been married at least once by the age of 25. If Anne was born in 1501, then she would’ve been 25 when she met the King in 1526 (or 24 if you believe they met in 1525) and yet, Anne had never been married. She had been engaged to James Butler and secretly engaged to Henry Percy, but neither of those matches panned out. And yet, there’s no evidence of Thomas actively looking for a new match for her after both of those engagements were broken off around 1523-24. Why? If Anne was already in her early 20s, why would Thomas just shrug and be like “oh I’m sure something will work out eventually”? At this point, he would’ve had absolutely no suspicions of what was coming for Anne. However, if Anne had been born in 1507, then she would’ve been around 15 at the time of her secret relationship with Henry Percy and 17 when her engagement to James Butler ended. Mary Boleyn had been married around 19 and George Boleyn was married around 20. So, at 17, Anne wouldn’t have been in any immediate need of a new match. Not to mention, after the whole Percy scandal, Wolsey called Anne a “foolish girl”: if Anne had been 22-23 at the time, Wolsey would certainly not have called her a “girl.” And also, if you ask me, defying your father by having a secret love affair seems more like the actions of a teenager rather than a grown woman.

Anne’s time as Queen-in-waiting. So during the betrothal period of 1527-1532, there were a lot of people who didn’t want Anne to be Queen (or didn’t think she could be) and they would do everything they could to blacken her name to hopefully convince Henry to set her aside. And yet, of all the arguments used against her, not once did anyone say she was too old. If she had been in her late 20s then that most certainly would’ve been used against her (I’ll go into that in more detail in the next point). There’s also the fact that in 1530 (I think it was 1530), Anne comments that her youth is passing her by. If she was born in 1501 then she would’ve been 29 at that time and her youth would’ve already passed her by. However, if she was born in 1507, she would’ve been 23 and therefore still relatively youthful (by Tudor standards).

Anne giving birth to Elizabeth in 1533. Let’s look at Elizabeth of York (Henry VIII’s mother) and Catherine of Aragon (Henry VIII’s first wife). Elizabeth of York had a few pregnancies in her 30s, but her last surviving child was Mary (Rose) who was born a month after Elizabeth’s 30th birthday. All of her subsequent children were either stillborn or died young (and her last pregnancy at age 37 caused her death). Catherine of Aragon also had pregnancies in her 30s but her last (technically only) surviving child was born 2 months after her 30th birthday. Her subsequent pregnancy at the age of 32 ended with the birth of a stillborn child and it was her last pregnancy ever recorded. If Anne had been born in 1501, she would’ve been 32 when she gave birth to Elizabeth (the same age Catherine was during her last pregnancy). If that was the case, why was Henry so confident she could still have more children? However, if Anne was born in 1507, she would’ve been 26 which means, if they played their cards right, she could’ve given birth to 4 or 5 children before she hit her 30s.

Jane Dormer and William Camden. I can’t believe that this evidence exists and there are still people that insist she was born in 1501. Jane Dormer was a lady in waiting to Mary I. In Jane Dormer’s biography, she makes a comment about how Anne was not yet 29 when she was executed which meant she was born sometime after May 19th in 1507. Yes, Jane was a Catholic and had no nice things to say about Anne, but why she (or more accurately, Mary) lie about this? If anything, you’d think she’d want to make Anne out to be older than she was to make her look like some old hag. William Camden wrote a biography about Elizabeth I (during Elizabeth’s lifetime) and was given access to private documents and papers. In his notes, he says that Anne was born in 1507 (and he writes it in Roman numerals instead of Arabic numerals so you can’t even make the argument that his ones just looked like sevens).

Pre-20th century sources. So if you go back and look at biographies from the Victorian period and earlier, pretty much all of them that talk about Anne’s birth or her age say that she was born in 1507. Elizabeth Benger who lived in the late 18th-early 19th centuries said Anne was born in 1507. John Weaver (who was writing in the 17th century) said that Henry had fallen in love with Anne in 1529 when he was 38 and she was 22 (and the fact that Henry was 38 in 1529 is indisputable because we know exactly when his birth date is). Basically, this 1501 argument is actually a pretty new thing. It’s like those people nowadays who say the earth is flat despite that being disproved centuries ago. The fact that Anne was born in 1507 seemed to be an unquestioned fact until very recently. Now, I’m not saying it’s necessarily a bad thing to argue with long-held beliefs (I mean, for a long time people believed Anne was only using Henry for power and a lot of Anne historians have now argued that no, she in fact actually loved him), but there’s a difference between interpreting evidence a different way and outright ignoring evidence completely.

Now, despite all this, 1501ers would still say “oh but there are still holes and things that just don’t make sense”, but there aren’t really. Pretty much every piece of evidence can be explained. Meanwhile, the 1501 argument is pretty much “well she wrote that letter in 1514 and she served Mary in France”. In fact, several months ago, Suzannah Lipscomb did a live chat on the Talking Tudors Facebook page and when she was asked about Anne’s birth date she said Anne was born in 1501 because her 1514 letter was too sophisticated for a 7 year old. And Claire Ridgrway of the Anne Boleyn Files has an article where she presents all this evidence for 1507 and concludes it with “The main reason for me believing in 1501 is that I cannot believe that a 7 year old would have been chosen to accompany Mary Tudor to France, it just does not make sense” ...except, it does make sense why she was in Mary’s court as I explained above. To me, it just feels like people are just blatantly ignoring really solid evidence because it goes against the narrative they’ve already formed in their heads. “Well Eric Ives said 1501.” Eric Ives isn’t the only person whose ever written a biography about Anne Boleyn so just because he said it doesn’t automatically make it true. That’s why I have such a problem with people calling his book “the Anne Boleyn Bible”. The book is amazing and he clearly spent a lot of time researching, but it’s not gospel. Instead of blindly taking someone else’s word for it, actually go out and do research for yourself.

[lovieebby]

Frogs and Bears

Vic!Daddy!Henry x Little!Reader

Summary: You catch a frog while you and Henry are at the pond.

WC: 1k

Warnings: some ddlg themes, squeamish Hen, slight little!reader, overall some cute fluff

Note: yeah, hi hello good morning! I’ve had this thought written in my docs and tbh it kinda got drowned out but when I went thru all my old docs and deleted some I found this and was like um yes, gotta do pronto! But Leave me some feed back and tell me what ya think!! 💋

This is also an unbeta fic bc i wanted to leave a surprise for y’all so pls be nice to me ✨

It had been a beautiful Sunday, the bright sun was peeking through the green trees and birds gently singing. It was only you and Henry today, Judy was off at a family member’s and didn’t know when she’d be back. You had slightly heard that her niece just had a baby and you where over the moon excited for her, only temporarily bringing it up before she left.

But Henry wanted to keep you busy. He had already taken you to the zoo for a short time, only leaving when you got fussy over the animals. They were either too loud or the poor things looked sad. Though today was much different, the sun was twinkling off the pond water, the trees danced in the summer breeze and Henry had been right by your side.

As Henry walked along the ponds edge with you at his other side, you stopped short at the sound of a croak. Your ears perked at the sound and a gleeful squeal erupted from your mouth when you detached your hands from Henry’s. You kneeled quickly before Henry’s long arms could catch you; afraid you had gotten brave and wanted a swim.

He uttered your name in a quick hiss, his brows furrowed as he watched you dig your freshly clean dress sleeves into the muddy waters edge.

“What are you doing little missy?” He snaps, gripping your clothed biceps and picking you up roughly.

You knew you shouldn’t have gotten your dress dirty, a newly pink one at that but you couldn’t help but reach into the water for your new friend when you saw him perched on the moss. You beamed up at him with a smile brighter than the sun and opened your palm just enough to peek your eye into.

“Daddy look!” You said breathlessly as Henry spun you to face him, you opened your hands wider for him to see the large frog, “I got a frog!”

Henry’s blue eyes met with the angered frog, the amphibious creature was half the size of your palm, big and green with spots of brown and darker green. His eyes widened in slight fear, never in his life had he caught a frog nor less ever seen one so close, well he might have caught one when he was a boy but he decided not to indulge in that.

“Y/n! Put that thing down!” He hissed, coming to smack your hands to let the creature go.

You frowned deeply as you missed his swat. You cuddled the frog closer to your chest, palms closed and dark for the thing while shocked at your daddy for such a sour attitude.

“No! He’s sweet and kind. And he’s a frog! Not a thing.” You defensively spewed, your body turning away from him.

“Y/n, put the frog down.” He corrected, his eyes rolling at your quick defense, “You caught him and now you can release him— He’s probably got a family of sorts so go on.”

Henry’s rushed words and quick fix of his tie made you giggle, his clammy skin to his flushed cheeks was a sure tell of his uncomfortably to the amphibian in your hands.

“You’re not… scared of him, are you Daddy?” You teased, walking closer to Henry with a mischievous growing grin as you watched him back up, hands raising in his own defense.

“Little girl! I’m telling you, put the frog back!”

You giggles got louder as you outstretched your arms closer to Henry, you body hopping in a stomp when he backed up into the tree line. He chuckled with you nervously, grabbing your wrist and shoving your arms away from his reach.

“Y/n!” He laughed, your giggles and squeals contagious, “Let the poor mister go.”

You settled your wrestle with Henry, a few giggles seeping from your lips as you watched him adjust himself. You neared the same ponds edge from where you found your new friend and gently released your clasp.

“Sorry for the hustle and bustle froggy.” You whispered quietly, the frog seeming to question your apology as he looked at you for a short moment before turning and leaping out of your hands and into his home.

You heard a short sigh come from Henry as you rinsed your hands in the pond water and patted them dry on your blush colored dress.

“Now that the ugly thing is gone lets take another lap and go home.” Henry spoke out with a grumble as he fixed his tux and pea coat.

“He’s not ugly Daddy!” You rushed, “I think he’s beautiful.”

You crossed your arms in a pout, looking over at the pond in high hopes the frog in question was deep enough in the water to where he couldn’t hear your Daddy’s mean words.

“He was! He also looked very displeased to be out of his water.” He laughed lightly, fixing up his last button before he walked back on the worn down trail by the pond.

Hearing Henry laugh made you break your frown and attempt to hold your laugh. The frog wasn’t the prettiest but he was still his own pretty nonetheless.

“Well, not ever bloke has charm like you Daddy. Gentlemen like that have to find other pleasing characteristics.” You said lightly, like the frog was an old friend of yours from school.

You shrugged with an exaggerated huff, a small smile as Henry hummed and grabbed your hand to walk with you.

“That may be true, though he is a beefy frog… so maybe he’s courting all the ladies.” He joked, using the only little knowledge he does know about frogs.

You barked a laugh, cheeks sore from them as you carried on your walk before it became too late in the day.

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[filmsmakkari]

It's Quiet Uptown

Wordcount- 1.4k

Hamilton!Tom Holland x Angelica!Reader

Tom Holland x Princess!Reader

I would recommend listening to the song here!

Full Series Masterlist

-Forgive me for the abrupt ending on this one, my ending worked better as a beginning for the next part :)

Years came and went, and eventually your nephew, Phillip, with whom you’d grown quite close, graduating from King’s College. You couldn’t have been more proud of him, but you were also slightly fearful. He had confided in you that he felt that as a college graduate, it was time to come into his own. “I must be my own man, like my father, but bolder,” he had said to you. Thomas must have been the boldest person you, or anyone your age would see in your lifetimes, so you feared what Phillip would do.

You feared he would do something outlandish, perhaps he would challenge every member of parliament to a duel or maybe he would marry one of those lovely young ladies that he’d met in the town square- Sasha and Ariana you believed they were called- and which ever one he didn’t marry he would invite to the consummation. You never could have guessed what he actually decided to do. You wished you had been there, you knew you could have talked it out of it, but when the event took place you were back in Jimbaari for a royal ceremony.

You were drafting a letter to your mourning brother in law- dear Peggy’s husband- to offer your condolences when your lady-in-waiting, Kiara of Cinera, rushed in with a letter in her hand. You looked up at her, confused at the sad expression on her face.

“Oh, (Y/N), I’m note sure how to tell you this, but Phillip… he was… he was killed in a duel with that lawyer, George Baker.”

Your heart dropped. Your eyes immediately filled with tears. “What?”

“Baker spoke against Thomas during the Victory Day parade. He disparaged Thomas’ legacy so Phillip challenged him to a duel, but before Phillip could walk ten paces, George turned around and shot him at seven- (Y/N/N), I’m so sorry.”

Your mind was going a million miles a minute. Nothing made sense. “No, no, I don’t understand… Phillip is the most gentle, caring soul I have ever had the pleasure to know- I... he would never… be involved in something like this.”

Kiara nodded sadly. “Yelizaveta and Thomas have decided to move uptown- to Irecabeth. In Thomas’ correspondence he beckoned you to their new home.”

You tried to reorganize your thoughts. Your dearest sister and the only man you’d ever truly loved were going through the unimaginable, and you needed to be there for them.

You sniffled, saying shakily “Um, yes, begin packing immediately and book passage on a ship to Irecabeth. I will write a letter to them.”

You did just as you said you would, picking up a quill and a fresh piece of paper, writing with shaking hands on a tear stained page.

It Read:

My Dearest, Eliza,

Words cannot express the deep sorrow I feel. The news that our dearest Phillip has passed away has brought me a sense of grief too terrible to name. As parents, we must hold our children as tight as we can, in turn  pushing away the unimaginable. Tomorrow I will find myself riding my most darling horse, Mignonette, through the gardens of Jimbaarian Court to review our troops. I find it most difficult to fathom the mere idea of doing such a thing with this news weighing on me. It is my opinion, that there are moments in life where you are in the melancholy sea so deep, it feels impossible to keep yourself afloat, so you think it prudent to simply swim down. It is this sea of gloominess in which I currently feel trapped.

My thoughts and sympathy are with you and our dear Thomas as you face this loss beyond compare. To bear a child is to know for the first time in one’s life, true love, And, on the other hand, to lose a child is to know true pain. I cannot begin to imagine feeling such devastation. I wonder how the lord in his goodness could deal such a fatal blow to our family.

My usual eloquence seems to have left me, as I seemingly cannot produce more words on this subject. In closing, I would like to note I accept your invitation, and will do my best to make my way to Irecabeth as soon as possible.

Votre sœur la plus aimante, affectueuse et vraie,

(Y/N), Empress of Jimbaari

You were back in Larione in what felt like an eternity later, when in truth it had only been a few days. You approached Thomas and Eliza’s new home, the picture of grief, your long black cloak trailing behind you as you walked. When you knocked in the door, it was opened by a very different Thomas than when you’d last seen him. Much of his hair had gone grey, and there were dark circles around his eyes.

His eyes widened at the sight of you. “Oh, (Y/N).” He immediately grabbed you, engulfing you in a tight hug. You reciprocated, wrapping your arms around him as well. His body racked with sobs as he cried into your shoulder.

“It’s been so difficult, (Y/N). So difficult. Phillip… Phillip never hurt a soul, (Y/N), he must have been so scared.”

Tears filled your eyes as Thomas essentially restated your words to Kiara, only said differently. You slowly rocked the both of you back and forth, two parents grieving the loss of a child. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not your feelings for him, not the Reynolds Pamphlet, not Anthony Monroe, or Christopher Jefferson, or Aaron Blackwell.

You managed to compose yourself enough to ask about Eliza’s whereabouts.

“She’s out back, in the garden.”

You smiled and nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek before making your way to your sister.

She looked like the living dead. Her eyes weren’t focused, she was just staring off into the distance, her face was stained with tears, the whites of her eyes were red. If your heart hadn’t already been ripped apart, it certainly would have shattered in that moment, seeing your sister that way.

“Oh, Eliza,” you said, rushing over to the planter on which she was sitting.

Her eyes came into focus, brightening up at the sight of her dearest older sister.

��(Y/N)!” she cried out.

You ran to each other, meeting in the middle and hugging tightly.

“Oh, my dear girl. I wish it might be in my power by actions rather than words to ease your pain.”

“Oh, sister, it brings me unimaginable joy to see you here now,” she released you from the hug, walking you both back to the planter and taking a seat. “Especially now that our dear sweet Peggy has passed on, your presence is of the utmost comfort.”

You stayed in Larione for weeks, comforting your sister and brother in law, as well as your adoring nieces and nephews, most of whom did not understand that their dearest loving, protective, gentle older brother was never, ever, coming back. Most of all, you watched out for your oldest niece, (Y/N).

You were her namesake, and you two had always been close. She’d been the closest with Phillip, the pair of them had been inseparable. When she heard of her brother’s passing, she suffered a mental breakdown, which lead to what the doctor’s said would be a lifetime of insanity. She still spoke of her brother. It was as if he hadn’t died at all. It had pained you so deeply that you had to leave the room when you were playing the piano together and she said, “Oh, we simply must perform for Phillip! He and I have been working on this song for ages!”

The pain was almost unbearable. You found yourself contemplating if life was worth all the suffering. You had never had your own children with your husband, so you had always held Phillip and (N/S) in the same regards you would have held your own children.

One day, you were reading a book near an open window. You saw a movement out of the corner of your eye, and when you looked up you saw Thomas and Eliza, standing close. She took his hand, and said so quietly, “It’s quiet uptown.”

You sighed, a soft smile decorating your face. “Forgiveness. Can you imagine?”

The grace with which Eliza was handling the situation was almost too powerful to name. Perhaps seeing your sister dealing with the situation with such courage is what inspired you to begin to rebuild your contentment.

And little by little, you did. Little by little, it got better.

[yellow-faerie]

I would very much like to hear about your head canons for Findis and co! (if you're not busy, no pressure!) have a great day :)

Oh yes! Would love to! Sorry it took so long - I have exams and I had to go back through all my many, many notes I have accumulated over the last six months of headcanons and things and the post kept getting bigger!

OK, so, while I sometimes go by other people as Findis’ wife/husband, my personal favourite is Rilyanixë and together they have four children: two daughters and two sons. Of these children, they have six grandchildren (3 granddaughters and 3 grandsons) and (as far as I know so far) no great-grandchildren.

(I’ll put the full post under the cut)

So Findis is the eldest daughter of Finwë and Indis called Laurinalma by her mother (meaning Golden Flower) and Lintafinwë by her father (meaning Soothing Finwë) (and maybe Finwë is a male name but I believe -wë is a gender neutral name ending and I like the idea of different families keeping a naming tradition of sorts). The name Findis is actually her Cilmessë.

She dislikes Tirion immensely because of their general attitude to remarriage and everything really.

I have this headcanon that the children of Finwë were all very close until they really got into society and rumours and other people’s opinions really tore them apart - Fëanor to Formenos or Aulë’s halls; Lalwen to the wilds where she spends most of her time with her Maia girlfriend/wife (they aren’t sure which); Fingolfin to the isolation of court; and Finarfin to Alqualondë.

And Findis goes to Valmar and the Vanyar.

She takes on a healers apprenticeship there, returning only a few times a year to her family home where tensions are rising between Fëanor and literally everyone else - not yet about anything important, more about really insignificant things. (I think this post sums up my thoughts on Fëanor and the way I see his relationships with his half-family quite well)

And for her graduation, she goes to the Tirion library before returning to Valmar (this is as much to cool down after arguing with Fëanor over something inconsequential as it is to find resources for her theory exam/essay/things) and meets Rilyanixë.

Rilyanixë (a name meaning Sparkling Ice) is the quiet, middle child of the chief archivist of Tirion Archive. His father is a Vanya hunter (because, really, Findis isn’t going to marry someone who isn’t at least a little Vanya) and his older sister takes after him. His younger sister went down to Alqualondë to learn sailing because she refuses to take after either of her parents, but that’s another story.

They meet because he too is looking to get away because his mother - a staunch supporter of the crown and it’s ability to make sound decisions (thus trusting Indis) - threw someone from the archive for making snide comments about the royal family and Rilyanixë rather disliked the raised voices. It is technically his day off but he came here to put books away because that’s what calms him.

So they meet and get on well: Rilyanixë quite likes this slightly scatter-brained healer and Findis likes the quiet librarian with a small smile and brown hair that shines gold when the light hits it just right.

She agrees to meet him again when she returns the books in a month or two when she comes back to town.

And they go out for coffee and learn that they are both half-Ñoldo, half-Vanya. And they sort-of fall into each other, meeting up in Valmar and in Tirion and eventually they are courting and then betrothed and then they are married, three years after first meeting.

(The marriage does cause tensions to rise between Rilyanixë and his Vanya family who see Findis as too Ñoldor and have issues with that so they don’t end up spending much time with them - there’s a reason Rilyanixë’s parents don’t live together anymore)

Now, Rilyanixë married into this family so he is as veritably crazy as all of they are - except no-one notices until he tells Fëanor that his latest creation was ‘passable, he supposes’ because Fëanor insulted Findis and you just don’t do that. Basically, Rilyanixë is very uncrazy unless provoked at which point he will just provoke whoever’s closest, however ill-advised that is (if that makes any sense).

Anyway, they get a house halfway between Tirion and Valmar (because they can’t be completely separate from politics but...they don’t want to be anywhere near it at the same time) and live fairly peacefully, with occasional siblings just appearing or nephews and nieces and the like (from Rilyanixë’s side too it should be noted).

Everyone is beginning to think that they are not going to have children as Arafinwë is already married and with a baby when Findis declares that she is pregnant. A year(ish) later, she gives birth to a girl that Findis calls Findecurë (Tress of Skill - weird name, but I was trying to come up with a translation for Finvain) and Rilyanixë calls Nofernë (Under Beech Tree). Of the two of them, Rilyanixë’s naming is actually a bit more prophetic than his wife’s (because I find it odd that only women have prophetic visions and while I still think that women are almost always the parent (if either parent does have prophetic name-giving), I thought that men must even just a little).

Before Fëanor pulls the sword and everything finally collapses in on itself, they have three more children. A boy who she calls Findelaurë (I’m using this variation on Glorfindel’s Quenya name for the sake of familial consistency) and who Rilyanixë calls Indiltur (Lily Lord). Another girl that Findis calls Fanyanel (Daughter of the Clouds) and Rilyanixë calls Iþilmolótë (Flower of Starlight - and apparently the Vanyar still used the letter thorn? I might be wrong). And finally another son that Findis calls Finróna (Hair of the East) and Rilyanixë calls Aþumolor (Good Companion in Dreams). In order of birth, their Sindarin names (and the names I shall be referring to them by) are Glorfindel, Finvain, Faniel and Finrun.

At the darkening, Glorfindel follows Turgon (with whom he is close), Faniel follows Glorfindel (with whom she is close), Finrun follows his elder siblings and the other Finwean babies (Galadriel, Argon and Ambarussa), and Finvain follows her siblings.

When her children and family leave, Findis disappears into the wilds (very good fic about this here) and Rilyanixë, with no family, returns to his mother’s house in Tirion.

So Glorfindel we all know goes to Gondolin and dies and gets re-embodied, etc. I would like to add a bit to his story to say I am a big Glorestor shipper and they definitely end up married and they adopt Lindir and his sister Lindis (because no-one can stop me).

As of Erestor, he’s an Avar in my mind who ends up with Gondolin because the Avari keep being pushed from their homes and he knows he would be safe there. (He does initially say he’s a Sindar to try and avoid the general distaste everyone seems to have for the Avari and only tells those he really trusts). Also, he would get on so well with Rilyanixë and it’s such a pity that they don’t meet until the fourth age.

Finvain leaves ME because her brothers and sisters are going, not from any particualr desire of hers to go. She is protective at heart - even if she seems very cold - and loves her brothers and sisters a lot. She does a lot of what she does only grudgingly and eventually swears off killing even orcs as her actions at Alqualondë haunt her that much (she acts as a behind the lines medical assistant due to her knowledge of plants and herbs and is killed because of her oath when the camp is overrun).

She loves gardening. If she’s sitting in a patch of flowers, she’s happy (she would really love hobbits if she had lived). She had a garden in her family home between Valmar and Tirion but when she left it got overgrown, despite Finrun’s best attempts to keep it cared for (he’s busy and the garden reminds him too painfully of his absent sister). She can’t keep a garden in ME (she’s a messenger for Fingolfin, moving around a lot) but she does have a habit of planting flowers in odd places wherever she travels.

She does fall in love, if that is what you would call it. She and Morwen (and I have this headcanon that Morwen and Húrin were really good friends who were both hella gay and both really wanted children so got married for that while agreeing that they could see other people) spend time together and it would have developed further if Finvain wasn’t always being called away and she hadn’t died at Nirnaeth.

Finvain holds guilt over her brother’s death as Finrun died at Alqualondë and Finvain saw him die, still confused as to what was actually going on; and Lalaith’s death (who she thought she could save with her medicine but who died anyway).

When she is re-embodied - before her sister but after both her brothers, she returns to her family home - left abandoned by her mother who had vanished soon after the Darkening; her father, who had returned to his mother in Tirion; and her brother, who was now living almost permanently on the outskirts of Alqualondë. She fixes it up the best she can and tends to her garden as slowly, one by one, her family returns.

Faniel is the sort of person who has everyone wrapped around her little finger but doesn’t seem to know. Hella strong, hella kind, hella oblivious - a summary of Faniel’s character.

Faniel and Ecthelion are both bi (when Ecthelion was younger, there was a time he and Glorfindel were courting before they decided they were better as friends). She and Ecthelion have three children: a son, Elemmakil; a daughter, Meleth; and a child, Enerdhil. Meleth ends up as Eärendil’s nurse and marries Elwing’s nurse Evranin which is all I really have for her and I have next to nothing for the other two. But they exist.

Anyway, Faniel fights with a spear and actually lives to escape to the havens but she dies in the Third Kinslaying.

She is the last of her siblings to be reborn and ends up being the one to initiate the search for their mother.

And finally, Finrun. He dies at Alqualondë when he and a few others go into the city to see what the confusion is all about and gets caught up in the crossfire before he can really tell what’s going on. With no blood on his hands and practically no trauma, he gets re-embodied within a few years but everything is really different: all his family has either gone to ME, gone and secluded themselves somewhere, are exceptionally busy or Finrun thinks they hate him. As someone who thrived off of the familial love of his family (being Aro/Ace, this is one of the main forms of love that he experiences), it’s a jarring experience to say the least and ends up with him being really, really lonely.

He decides to deal with this crippling loneliness by throwing himself into his work. The only family who really talks to him is Finarfin but they mainly talk about work and he’s like, if it makes him happy then it’ll make me happy. (It is making neither of them happy, they’re just avoiding the problem). So he ends up in Alqualondë working towards restoring relations. No-one here particularly likes him (Maglor’s wife, Cantasië, does occasionally come and keep him company to be honest to her).

He is here he meets Elwing, singing and miserable who he promptly adopts. (It is not only the Fëanorians with adopting people on the spot issues). The rest of the Teleri are a bit sceptical of this girl however much they like her and she’s uncomfortable in palace having lived nearly her whole life in near poverty despite being a princess. And Eärendil, when he appears, reminds him of his cousins due to being Turgon’s grandson. There’s a bit more nuance to it, I guess, but basically he sees these two children with no family anymore and as he knows how they feel, he decides to give them that family.

It’s at the end of the First Age that Finrun realises that the Valar intend to keep the Ñoldor in Mandos and he basically becomes the advocate for their release. In his house by the sea, he is slowly collecting war orphans who lost parents far too young and came to these shores to try to heal hurts of their souls and Finrun houses them and loves them and tries to get the Valar to release the families they have lost (not realising that in the process he has become part of that family and the loneliness he has been feeling is lessened somewhat - not gone completely because his family is a different entity entirely but lessened).

Eventually, he convinces them and one-by-one, his family and the others trapped in Mandos are released upon their healing, rather than being kept there forever.

(When Glorfindel is reborn, Finrun is not told and meets him on the docks by pure chance before he must go to Middle Earth. And before he can really get over the shock and bundle of emotions, Glorfindel is gone again. Finrun genuinely thinks that this was a hallucination for a long time.)

It is one sunny day soon after Glorfindel has returned to Valinor that Faniel gets them together to go after their mother, who, despite everyone coming back and a tentative happiness and peace beginning, has not returned from wherever she ran to. During their search, they get to catch up for the first time really since they were all reborn.

Findis has just sort of made camp in a cave, not hiding but decided that society sucked and she didn’t want to go back. Her children convince her otherwise and they return and everything is good and happy.

Umm, so yep, these are my vague thoughts on this family. I hope you liked it!

[theinvisibledreamergirl]

Has everything changed? (Part two)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Klaw Craig)

Word count: ~2.5k

Category: Angst but in the end... you’ll see it 😉

A.N: This is the second and the last part for this fic. Thank you so much for taking your time reading these bullshits of mine❤️ and then for everyone waiting OH AU 1 the next fic is called “Friendship questioned”. Hope you enjoy this!

MASTERLIST

PART ONE

————————————————

She wanted now to escape from this building as if that kind of air was blocking her lungs. A cup of lemon tea would somehow release the tension in her shoulders.

At Derry Roasters everyone were talking about the same topic with new faces appeared in front of her. Interns chatting excitedly about their first day and cursing their attendees for the anxious hours they spent until now.

She let a smirk to herself remembering the first day when she was an intern. A rebel one and didn’t even have to spare a glance to the man whom she hated the most. She was so clueless about him that only knew his name but not his face.

You can say she was the only intern who got the attention of Dr. Ramsey after a decade and no one could replace her.

The interns eyed her incredulously as if they were seeing a miracle whispering to each other.

“It’s her!”

“Shush dude she doesn’t like gossiping.”

“She’s so fucking gorgeous!”

“Damn lucky whoever is with her!”

“It’s Dr. Ramsey.”

“Really?”

“They’re such a power couple!”

“Hm. I wonder if they’ll invite us to their weeding.”

“Matt shut up or she’s going to hear us and I don’t want to have any bones broken!”

“Fine fine.”

She took a seat at the corner of the bar facing the window in her left.

This was their place.

The place where they felt themselves and out of the real world.

He would be opposite her smiling and telling his stories as a troublemaker teenager or how his father would always get angry after another defeat in the chess game.

Or how he would touch and kiss her hand bringing closer to him.

Or how she would scold him to not do anything publicly and he still didn’t give a damn what the others would say.

She really wanted to relive these moments so much but her logical side told her he was wrong and he had to apologise.

Whereas the feeling side... told her to go and kiss him and tell him that it was just a temporary weakness and that she loves him.

While she was sipping her tea relishing a sigh a soft voice distracted her.

“So British of you.”

She chuckled while placing the tea to the plate. “You’re not British if you don’t drink a cup of tea.”

“I highly agree with that. And you’re not American if you don’t drink an espresso.”

Both women shared a laugh when Harper Emery took a seat opposite her.

“Soo... how’s the first day going?”

“Really Harper? Just say what you want. I know this look of yours.” She knew what she came for and didn’t want to skip it like nothing had happened. Even though she sounded harsh Harper only let a gentle smile.

“Fine I just wanted to ease this conversation a bit but it looks like I have a long talk with you little miss.”

“If he has sent you here don’t even try.” She said nonchalantly bringing back the tea to her lips.

“Correction: he didn’t and I don’t think he would.”

He wouldn’t? Of course what did you expect.

“I came here because I wanted to talk with you Klaw. As friends.”

“What makes you think you can change?”

Mini Ethan. Stay strong Harper.

“Well let’s just say that I have this instinct of mine that what I want to achieve- it will be achieved. I know it’s sounds cliche but I’ve never failed in this path.”

“Keep going then.”

“Look Klaw... I think the real problem is not you or him. It’s you both against the problem.” She eyed her curiously.

“The problem is Leland and it’s dragging you both into a black hole till you fall and no one’s going to help you. What you need to understand is that Bloom is trying to provoke us and to see who’s going to be on his side. What Ethan agreed wasn’t because he is on Bloom’s side. He agreed because-“

“That was the only way he said.” Klaw replied in frustration while reminiscing his court voice on her mind.

“Tone, please?” Harper arched an eyebrow.

Gosh they’re both the same.

“Sorry.” She murmured while her gaze was falling on her nails ripping the cuticles.

“As I was saying he only agreed because he knew that even he would do the contrary, Bloom wouldn’t listen to him anyway without asking us because this is his character and is unpredictable. Ethan is taking this calmly but do not forget- he will always be on your side. Yes he’s really mad with you because of your lack of control against your emotions and of not showing professionalism. But he is wrong too for treating you as someone foreign and not considering as your colleague and not rethinking that not always you will agree in everything.”

Harper was thinking if this could work for both of them because she wanted to help as much as she could and also couldn’t see them separated from each other.

“Or if I make it simple- just fucking go and get him already!”

“I don’t think that would be simple. He said if I don’t get my shit back then there’s no way I could step in the team.”

“And you think with such a weak and useless threat of him you’re not going to talk about this? Bullshit. This is the perfect moment to say the apology because if not- you’re going to be very late and you’ll lose him.”

“But this is not actually what hurt him.” Harper frowned in confusion while Klaw’s eyes started to well up.

“I offended him Harper. I said that... that he doesn’t care about me even though I know he cares! He does...a lot but... I’ve really messed this thing up and I’m worried about facing him.” She gulped while putting her palms behind her neck. “I can’t do this. How am I supposed to look him in the eye Harper? I know he is right now really tired of this behaviour of mine and has tried his best to push me and to seal this bad sided woman you’re talking to! Ethan has been a careful, supportive and kind to me in many ways that I can’t explain. Whereas I...” she let a scoff. “I’ve been nothing but only bragging about everything and not be the best girlfriend he wants.”

Harper Emery was lucky to know someone as Klaudia Craig because not only she had been a great shoulder to lean on for everyone but also has been a great person to her.

She would always be in a debt for making Aurora speak and standing up for herself in her intern year and to show what a mistake she did by underrating her niece for her achievements.

And here she was now- confessing her feelings such beautifully for a man whom she loves most and if she was in her place... No.

It was clearly that this woman was the only spark who could give light in Ethan’s darkness and the contrary.

They were both meant for each other.

“Then all of these things you said to me-“ She leaned her palm giving hers a gentle squeeze. “- you should say to him. Whatever happens. I think he will listen to you.”

“You think so?”

“Hey. I’m a neurosurgeon and this the dumbest question ever raised by you Dr. Craig.”

Klaw let a weary chuckle. “Okay. Let’s see if the grumpy man wants to talk with the grumpy woman.”

“That’s my girl.”

—————————

Her steps lead her to the Diagnositics Office and far from the corner she could see there was no one inside. So the only place he could be was...

Hospital’s gym.

She could hear some hard breathing and panting while kickboxing in a big arena. He was wearing his loosely T-shirt and his sport’s boxers that fit perfectly his shape of the body.

Every movement he did and his focused gaze to the training made her head tilt in a wander that how was possible this man could be such sexy.

And how she was so lucky that he was hers.

Or that’s what she thought.

“Ethan!” She called behind him but it seemed he didn’t hear her as he was having his headphones on clearly listening to his rap music. She tried again. “Ethan Jonah Ramsey!”

No answer again. “Is he fucking kidding me or what? I’ll show him.”

She entered the ring arena rapidly and when she was just about to call him again unexpectedly was twirled in his arms, her back facing chest. She gasped and felt her breath hitched. What now?

“Well look who made it here.”

“I...”

“What the hell do you want Rookie?” He growled on her left ear.

Her lips trembled despite her efforts to not cry in front of him. “I’m sorry.”

He sensed her change of tone and turned her back to face him.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I know that I’m really such a bad bitch when it comes to these situations but I want you to know that I love you and I don’t want us to have these debates ever again because I know that always screw the things up... I ALWAYS RUIN IT!” Her last words flinched him when she punched his shoulder in anger and couldn’t see her in this broken state.

“No. I ruined it.” He admitted. “I know I shouldn’t even think about what you considered Harper at first because I know you weren’t jealous about her and still I thought it-” he let a weary chuckle “-and you never fail to be right about that. And I know I shouldn’t treat you as someone who wasn’t part of the team and I’m sorry if I made you doubt about yourself.”

He pulled her closer giving her the kiss she deserved but she backed off saying. “No more fights?”

He gave her the brightest smile. “No more.” She smiled too and felt his soul completely in peace. “Now Miss Craig-” he held his right hand to her. “-would you like to be my companion for tonight’s gala?”

She giggled and cleared her throat. “How can I refuse it Mister Ramsey?”

———————————————-

After two hours at Ethan’s apartment.

“I seriously can’t believe we’re going to that fucking party.” She was strapping her high heels frustratingly then got up while Ethan was doing his buttons of his sleeves looking at the mirror.

“Relax Rookie. Just put a fake smile and chat about medicine as doctors usually do.”

She scoffed while reaching to do his tie. “How can you be such calm? I expected you to be furious just like me.”

“Well unlike you ma’am I have a master’s degree that I’ve held for eleven years for being talkative, social and well respected diagnostician.” He let a smirk when she quirked her left eyebrow.

“I totally agree with the last one but I highly doubt about the first two y’know.”

He pressed her body closely to him, his eyes looking intensely into her dark brown. “And may I know why you’re doubting Dr. Craig?”

Instead of making it as a casual chat she turned it to something else. “About everything.” He got the message when she lowered her gaze playing mindlessly with the buttons of his lapel jacket. “I mean- what’s going to happen later Ethan? Some things have changed and we already are aware of it but...” She pressed her lips.

“But?”

“For how long? What if Bloom will try his tactics again to track another doctor and if there’s going to be someone else- who knows? I’m scared Ethan. What if this is the end of all of us? What if we lose our jobs for nonsense reasons?”

“I know. I’m worried about it too and I have absolutely no idea where this is going to take us. But one thing’s for sure.”

She let his hands cup her cheeks meeting with his face.

“No one...not even Bloom can tell us to back off from what is right. We will continue our mission, Naveen’s mission and we will always do it for the sake of the Oath. Don’t lose the confidence you have and all your thoughts even when they’re wrong. I’ve told you since the first day of your residency last year. It is not wrong to ask questions ‘cause if you didn’t well I would be very concerned. I know you say that you trust yourself but I don’t agree with it. So please... don’t overthink it. Let’s just enjoy this night while we can hm?”

His voice was so assuring and there was nothing else she wanted to hear.

The one she fell so hard capturing her in an inevitable trap.

His presence made her entirely safe whenever he gave a smile just like now with his eyes reflecting on hers like a magnet.

She wanted to stay there forever.

In his arms.

In his heart.

He seemed to notice it and kissed her forehead while she was closing her eyes.

“You always calm me down. How the hell you do this Rams’?”

“You’re not the only one with skills here lil girl.” She scrunched her nose when he tipped with his index finger. “Now I think we should leave before we are too late.”

“Actually...” She bit the corner of her lip. “Can we please not go? I don’t want to see that big rat blooming all the way up.” She pleaded while shrugging her right shoulder crossing her arms on her back.

“Klaw you can’t be serious.” When he saw her expression he scoffed before pointing his finger. “You’re too late to anything else because we’re dressed now for that occasion. Many doctors will be there and then is goin-.”

She grabbed instantly the back of his neck silencing him with a kiss. “Will you repeat that again doctor?”

“Not now Klaw-”

She kissed him again pinning him to the wall then whispering in a sultry voice.

“Wrong answer doctor. I’ll propose this- we’ll get the best scotch from Reggie and then buy some Calzones while we are enjoying the starry night that only the Boston’s sky can give us. Completely alone. Just the two of us. So...what do you say? I think it’s an opportunity of a lifetime.” She winked.

He sighed while looking up in the ceiling as if searching for help in his defeat. She loved making him at this state.

At her command.

“How the hell do you convince me Craig?”

“Well you’re not the only one with skills here old man.” She squeezed his cheeks while he was frowning. “Aww you’re so cute and you look like a fish doing ‘o’!”

He spoke or better tried to mumble the words. “I’m mnot olf man and I’m mnot ffsh!”

“Yeah yeah that’s why you can’t use the Instagram correctly.” She giggled when couldn’t contain her laughter anymore then took his hand leading them to the door. “Now shall we go because I’m really starving and we won’t make it home earlier.”

“True. We won’t make it home until the morning.”

He gave her a known devilish grin while he was unlocking the door that made her eyes go wide, her heartbeats accelerate and gulped hardly.

He winked.

Damn it.

This was going to be a very long night ahead of them.

—————————————————

TAGS WILL APPEAR IN A REBLOG!

[zelenacat]

Chapter 2- When We Were Young- An Obitine Story

The Duchess was careful the first four months of her first pregnancy, she wore flowing outfits with ruffles and loose-fitting sashes to draw eyes away from her stomach. Satine would appear at state events and cut ribbons, and make speeches on holidays or days of historical importance, and of course, she opened parliament. By now, she had made her political views very clear, she was a pacifist, and she supported the New Mandalorians. Those who were critical of the new Duchess' views claimed she was a shame to her clan, to her War Lord father, and that her sister should be more involved in government. That hurt Satine, but she decided that people had to let their anger out somehow. At least, none of the courtiers had claimed their dissent in her face, though Satine wasn’t sure how long that would last.

In her fifth month of pregnancy, that’s when things got harder.

“Satine?”

Sighing, the Duchess looked up, Khaami had a worried expression on her face.

“What is it?” she asked.

“The Mandalorian Society for Peace would like you to give a speech at their banquet next week.”

Fesma frowned.

Satine rested her hands on her stomach, “That will be tricky.”

“You can’t deny them,” Fesma stated, “you’ve shown yourself to be an advocate for peace.”

“A staunch one at that.” agreed the Duchess.

Khaami huffed, “We need a way to get around this.”

The room got quiet.

“Perhaps,” Satine began, “I could claim I have a former engagement but record a speech?”

Khaami brightened, “That might work.”

“But if you give too many televised speeches,” Fesma fidgeted, “won’t people get suspicious?”

Satine grinned, “Not if we implement my new idea.”

Raising an eyebrow, Fesma asked, “And what would that be?”

“Corsets.”

Khaami gasped.

“Satine,” Fesma sighed, “no.”

“We could work them into my outfits,” the Duchess suggested, “like we did with my coronation outfit.”

“The seamstresses did that.” Fesma corrected.

“And isn’t it dangerous for the baby?” Khaami added.

“I have to take some risks,” Satine swallowed, “I want this baby, but it’s going to be difficult.”

A silence once again descended over the room, Satine’s thoughts riveted through her skull.

“I’ll tell your writers to start drafting a speech then,” Khaami stood, “and I’ll stop at the tailor’s room on the way back.”

“Thank you, Khaami.”

Fesma sighed heavily as soon as Khaami closed the door.

“What is it?” Satine asked.

“This would be much easier if you,” Fesma paused, “if you-”

“I can’t,” Satine’s hands began to shake, “I don’t have the courage.”

“But this will be so much harder.” Fesma urged.

“I know,” tears sprung into the Duchess’ eyes, “but I love the baby’s father too much to get rid of it.”

“Satine-”

“Stop, I won’t have this conversation again!”

Fesma nodded, “Yes, Your Grace.”

In two days time Khaami and Fesma outfitted Satine’s newest dress. It was blue with silver embellishments and a purple sash.

“Ah!”

“Sorry, Satine.” Khaami grimaced.

“Tighter.” the Duchess ordered through ground teeth.

“Satine,” Fesma brought a mirror over to Satine, “are you sure?”

The Duchess turned sideways and stared at herself in the mirror, it looked like she had gained some weight, but it didn’t look like she was pregnant.

“You know what,” Satine gasped, “this will do.”

After recording her speech for the Mandalorian Society for Peace, Satine attended a council meeting with her newly selected advisors. They drew up a list of societies for the Duchess to give speeches at or attend, and advised her on when to hold court.

Looking around the table, Satine committed her advisors’ names to memory and thanked them for their support.

“Of course, Your Grace.” bowed the Prime Minister, Jaru Djarin.

The Duchess waited before all her advisors had left before hoisting herself upward, leaning heavily on the table. Her back hurt terribly these days, and sometimes she had trouble sleeping.

The rest of the day went by uneventfully, Satine sighed, some of these days were starting to blur together and she felt lonely. Hopefully that would change soon.

“How did it go, Satine?” Khaami asked, unbuttoning the Duchess’ dress.

“Eh, same as usual.”

Fesma frowned, “Satine, I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

The Duchess’ dress fell to the floor.

Fesma sighed, “You’re not yourself anymore.”

Khaami met Satine’s eyes in the mirror as she undid her corset.

“Do you agree, Khaami?”

The lady’s eyes saddened, “You are a little down sometimes.”

Satine sighed as her corset came loose, standing in just her underwear, she turned and stared at herself in the mirror.

“It’s definitely noticeable now.” the Duchess observed.

“Would you,” Khaami began, “would you like to tell us about him?”

Satine blushed.

Fesma picked up the Duchess’ dress, “Satine, we know you wouldn’t do something like this without reason, tell us about him.”

Letting loose a giggle, the Duchess bit her lip and shook her head.

“Satine?” Khaami asked, shock in her tone.

“He was so kind to me,” Satiine said at last, “gentle and trustworthy, and he even had a snarky sense of humor.”

Satine watched as Khaami and Fesma glanced at each other, eyebrows raised.

“At first we only argued,” Satine admitted, “but then we agreed for Master Qui-Gon’s benefit that we should try to be civil.”

Khaami snorted, “Civil?”

“Our first kiss happened on a ledge overlooking a valley,” Satine smiled, “the sun was setting.”

“Satine,” Fesma sighed, “don’t tell me you’re a romantic.”

The Duchess laughed.

“What was his name?” Khaami asked.

Satine let her eyes fall to the floor, “I called him Ben.”

“Ben?”

“Meaning: mine.” Satine explained.

“Here, Your Grace,” Fesma said after a long silence, “let’s get you changed.”

Once Satine was in her nightgown, Fesma went for tea and Khaami clamored onto the Duchess’ bed.

“So,” Khaami grinned, “have you picked out any names yet?”

“Names?”

“You know,” Khaami crossed her arms, “for the baby.”

Satine opened her mouth to speak, the air recycler went on.

“Well I,” the Duchess paused, “I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Khaami was about to answer, when a vent popped out of the wall. Satine turned.

“Don’t move.” came a growl.

On shaky legs, Satine stood.

“I said not to move!”

It was a man, clearly, and he was dressed from head to toe in rusty Mandalorian armor. The man’s eyes fell onto Satine’s stomach.

“Well, Your Grace,” the bounty hunter sneered gleefully, “you certainly have something to answer for, don’t you?”

“Who are you and what do you want?” Khaami managed to stutter.

 “I’m just here for the Duchess, little lady,” the bounty hunter pointed his gun at Satine, “and if she comes with me I won’t have to kill you.”

“Her Grace is going nowhere.” said Fesma, appearing at the door, tea tray in hand.

Satine yelped as the intruder grabbed her arm and yanked her in a hold against his chest.

“Move and she dies, they’ll take her dead or alive.”

Satine could not let this happen, she decided to try a trick she’d seen Obi-Wan do before, ram your head into that of your attacker. So, she did.

“Ah!”

Satine held up the bounty hunter’s shooting hand and wrestled the gun from him.

“It’s treason to attack a monarch.” The intruder pulled a knife, “They said you were a pacifist.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t protect myself.” Satine spat.

“You sure it isn’t the momma bear instinct?”

Satine pulled the trigger, she was lucky, the bullet lodged in the bounty hunter’s neck. Shaking, the Duchess dropped the gun.

“Your Grace?” a voice called.

Thinking quickly Satine hid behind her dressing partition, a few seconds later a guard entered.

“Where were you,” Fesma shouted, “he tried to kill the Duchess!”

“Forgive me, my lady,” the guard said entering the room, “we were in the middle of a shift change.”

The guard spoke quietly into his communication device before calmly stalking towards the intruder.

“What happened here?”

Satine peaked around her partition, she saw Harryn, the captain of her personal guard.

“This assassin tried to kill the Duchess.” answered the first guard.

“And you killed him?”

“No, sir,” the guard shook his head, “he was dead when I arrived, I heard the shot.”

“Then who-”

“I did,” Satine’s words were rushed, “but in the report I would like it said that I waited for professional assistance.”

Harryn bowed, “Yes, Your Grace.”

The Duchess’ personal guards were so focused over the next few weeks, that when a palace nurse came to them with the news of a missing medical droid, they didn’t look into it, even though they said they would deal with it.

“What are you going to do, Satine?” Fesma asked.

The Duchess and her ladies were sitting in her personal parlor, a receiving room connected to her bedchamber. This and her bedroom were the only rooms where there were no microphones, only cameras.

“I hate to do my father this dishonor,” Satine began, “but I have to do this for the baby.”

Fesma tilted her head, “What dishonor?” 

“I want to claim this child is my niece or nephew,” Satine lowered her eyes, “that they’re the child of my bastard brother.”

Khaami gasped.

“I know people who can fake the documents-”

Khaami’s mouth fell open, horrified, “You know people?”

Satine hesitated, “I’ve heard of people.”

“I agree with Her Grace,” said Fesma after a short silence, “this seems to be the best course of action.” “We’d have to pay them in kind,” Satine stated, “they can’t accept credits.”

“What could we use,” Khaami asked, “jewelry?” “I was thinking of physical monetary value.” Satine confessed.

“So,” Khaami paused, “bills?”

“Yes.”

The Duchess looked to Fesma, who was mulling over the prospect.

“I think jewelry might be best, Satine,” said the lady, “it’s easily exchangeable and has good value.”

“Alright,” Satine agreed, “we’ll pay them in jewelry, but where am I going to, you know-”

“Give birth?” Khaami whispered.

Satine flinched, “Yes, birth.”

Fesma frowned, “It has to be somewhere no one frequents, and it has to be soundproof.”

“The bombing basement?” Khaami ventured.

Satine grinned, “Unconventional, but it might work.”

By the time her third trimester began, the entire plan was in place. Under Satine’s bed lay a stolen medical droid and a bag of missing pain relievers, on her toilette in a mahogany box sat a cheap set of jewels, authentic, but not the grandest thing Satine owned. Finally, if one went into the bombing basement, they would find an old mattress covered in stained sheets and newspapers surrounded by tapestries on the walls and candles on the floor.

“Things seem to be looking up, Satine.” Khaami commented when the Duchess returned from a council meeting.

“We might actually be able to do this.” agreed Fesma.

Satine swallowed, “My advisors think I should marry as soon as possible, make a political alliance and sire heirs.”

Fesma groaned.

“Just when we thought things were looking up.” added Khaami.

“I told them I would consider it,” Satine sat down, hands on her stomach, “but I’m not sure how long I can hold them off.”

“Just until the baby is born,” Fesma assured, “then, once it’s safe, you can marry.”

The Duchess began to sob.

Khaami ran to her lady, “Oh, Satine-”

“I’m still in love with him, after all these months,” Satine choked on the air in her throat, “and he hasn’t contacted me once!”

“Satine-”

“I kriffing hate the Jedi!”

Fesma heaved a long sigh, “How very Mandalorian of you.”

Satine planted her face into her pillow and screamed.

Khaami tried again, “Satine-”

The Duchess screamed again. Then she groaned, sat up, and wiped her eyes.

“You know,” Satine swallowed, “sometimes I question my life choices.”

The Duchess was met with silence.

“Like why, for instance,” Satine continued, “did I have to fall in love with a Jedi?”

Fesma and Khaami shared a glance.

“It’s alright, you know,” the Duchess crossed her arms, “you can answer.”

Khaami opened her mouth to speak, but it was Fesma who spoke. 

“You know, Satine,” the lady placed her hands on the Duchess’, “it’s okay to be upset.”

All at once, Satine’s anger level began to lower.

“I don’t have a heart anymore,” the Duchess began to tear up again, “I’ve given it all to him.”

“That’s alright,” Khaami wrapped her arm around Satine’s shoulders, “it will come back to you eventually.”

“I’ll never stop loving him.” Satine said matter of factly.

“Then the baby,” Fesma assured, “your heart will grow again when the baby arrives.”

Satine nodded, “Thank you, ladies.”

“Of course,” Khaami kissed the Duchess’ cheek, “and now, we must think of names.”

It didn’t take much deliberation for Satine to decide that if she had a boy, she would name him Korkyrach.

“After the warrior king,” the Duchess said, “but we’ll call him Korkie for short.”

“And if it’s a girl?” Khaami asked excitedly.

Satine faltered, “I want to give her a regal sounding name, a hyphenated name.”

“Ooh.”

The Duchess blushed, “I think I like Tyra Satine.”

“Tyra Satine,” Fesma grinned, “it certainly has a ring to it.”

A month later, Satine sent Fesma and Khaami, disguised under heavy cloaks, to a seedy bar in lower Sundari with a chest full of jewels. The Duchess listened in from her room, carefully following the criminal’s instructions on how to spread the news. Then the items were exchanged, three USBs for a chest of jewels. Fesma and Khaami nodded, so did the criminal conspirator, before going their separate ways. Still, Satine was nervous until they arrived back at the palace.

“Oh, thank you,” the Duchess embraced her ladies, “thank you!”

“Of course, Satine,” Khaami smiled, “things are going to be better from now on.”

The next morning, a story broke about the Former Duke of Mandalore, Adonai Kryze, the rumor going around was that he’d had a bastard son who had died in the civil war, and that he’d left a wife and child behind. After a week, the rumors grew so big that Satine was asked about them at a press conference.

“I do not know whether or not what people are saying is true,” The Duchess said solemnly, “I learned of this possibility from the media myself.”

At the end of the press conference, Satine traveled back to her room, claiming she had a slight headache. Khaami and Fesma were waiting for her.

“How did it go?” Fesma questioned.

“Good,” the Duchess paused, “they ate it up.”

Grabbing onto the back of her chair, Satine groaned.

“Satine?”

“I think-”

A burst of water splashed onto the floor and the Duchess swayed.

“Satine!”

Fesma ran to the Duchess and pulled her arm around her shoulder, supporting her just below the arms.

“Khaami, the droid and the pain relievers!”

As quickly as they could, the trio made their way through the less populated halls of the serving corridors down into the basement. The first wave of pain hit Satine two landings from the basement door, it was as if her lower half was burning and decaying at the same time, flaring up and dissipating at the same time. She gasped heavily and faltered, but Fesma held her steady.

“I can’t feel my legs,” the Duchess moaned, “I can’t-”

“We’re so close, Satine,” Fesma assured, “we’re so close.”

Finally, when the pain passed, the Duchess and her ladies continued down the stairs. 

“Please,” Satine whined as Khaami struggled with the door, “it’s starting again.”

The door opened with a creek and Fesma flinched, but Satine yanked her forward as she made her way to the bed. Khaami set down the droid and closed the door, then she opened a metal drawer of steaming towels.

“How-”

“Stolen from the guest freshers,” the maid smiled, “I thought we’d need them.”

Satine nodded, lips drawn tightly.

Something buzzed, “I am Oiyo, the medical droid, what seems to be the problem here?”

“I’m kriffing giving birth!” Satine swore.

“Stay calm,” advised the droid, “and please answer some questions.”

The Duchess opened her mouth to yell at the droid again, but a shriek escaped her instead.

“You are a female of the human species, correct?”

“Yes!” Satine gasped.

“Is this your first baby?”

“Yes!”

The droid turned to Khaami, “Nurse, get behind the human female and support her upper body.”

The maid obeyed, and Fesma began to undo Satine’s corset.

“She shouldn’t be wearing that.” the droid observed.

The Duchess heaved a sigh of relief when the tightness left her stomach.

“Spread your legs, please.”

Shaking with the effort, Satine managed to spread her legs.

“If we have any pain relief,” the droid droned, “we should administer it now.”

Fesma stood, “I’ll get some water.”

Satine whimpered as Fesma sped from the room. Khaami rubbed her back.

“Roll up your skirt, please, I need to see my work.”

Satine pulled up her skirt and clenched her hands tightly around the material, hissing as the droid touched its cold fingers to her inner thigh.

“Contractions are progressing nicely,” the droid stated, “you should begin pushing in approximately four point three minutes.”

Satine groaned, the only thing she could feel was pain.

“I’m back!” Fesma announced, shutting the door tightly behind her.

Satine noticed the two water bottles in her ladys’ hands, and the Duchess began to pray.

“This is almost medieval.” Khaami noted as Fesma hand-fed Satine pain relieving pills.

“That will only ease some of the pain.” the medical droid agreed.

“Still,” Fesma frowned, “We agreed to help our lady.”

As the hours progressed, Satine’s throat grew hoarse as her screams grew more violent.

“What time is it?” Khaami questioned.

“Eleven o’clock on the twenty third of Mae Month.” stated the medical droid calmly.

Satine wailed. Fesma, who was assisting the droid with warm hand towels and holding its tools, ducked her head and inhaled sharply.

“What is it?” the Duchess simpered.

“I can see the head, Satine,” Fesma’s face went blank, “it’s a very messy business.”

In response, the droid leaned down and worked silently. 

“Push, please.” it beeped cheerfully.

Satine squeezed Khaami’s hands like her life depended on it, and after a tremendous heave and seven quick gasps, Satine had a baby.

“Congratulations, you have a son.”

Bursting into tears, Satine held her arms out. Fesma wiped the baby clean then placed him into his mother’s discarded corset. Khaami leaned over the Duchess’ shoulder and dabbed her eyes.

“Here you go, Satine.” Fesma grinned.

She took the baby in her arms and sniffled, cradling her son’s small body against hers.

“Korkyrach Kryze,” Satine smiled, “it’s wonderful to meet you.”

The baby giggled in response.

“Aw!”

“He should be kept in a blanket.” the droid suggested.

Fesma stood, “I’ll go get one.”

“Bring two!” Satine called, laughing.

The medical droid’s innards began to whirl and soon a piece of paper was ejecting out from its stomach.

“Printing birth certificate.”

Satine stared at Khaami, wide-eyed.

“Please input information correctly,” the droid stated, “it is a felony if you do not.”

“A felony?”

The droid handed Khaami the birth certificate.

“We have to fill this out correctly, Satine,” the lady bit her lip, “we could make a fake one and hide this one in the palace archives.”

Satine looked down at the baby, then nodded.

“I’m back!” Fesma panted.

“Wrap Korkie in the blanket,” Satine ordered, handing Fesma the baby, “we have to fill out the birth certificate.”

“Birth certificate?”

The medical droid beeped and offered Satine a pen. Turning her upper body, the Duchess pressed the sheet against the wall and wrote.

Name: Korkyrach Kryze  Date of Birth: 23, Mae, 39 BBY  Birth Time: 11:12

Home Planet: Mandalore  Mother: Satine Kryze  Father: ___________________

Satine’s hand began to shake.

“Why don’t we leave that one blank.” Khaami suggested kindly.

“Something’s wrong,” Satine said suddenly, “it hurts again.”

“Is it the placenta?” Khaami asked, taking the paper and pen from Satine.

The medical droid leaned down and examined its patient.

“Your body is preparing for another birth,” the droid observed, “you’re having twins.”

Satine’s mouth dropped open, then she began to grunt in pain.

“Lay back down,” Khaami suggested, pulling Satine’s shoulders back, “you can do this.”

Fesma offered her lady a quick sip of water before returning to help the medical droid.

“This one’s coming quickly, Satine,” Fesma stated, a mix of shock and fear in her voice, “not much longer.”

The Duchess screamed. Korkie cried, he was back in his mother’s arms now, and Satine was trying not to squeeze him too tight.

Wailing, the Duchess prayed and begged for this to be over soon. Fesma handed the droid a knife.

“One last push, Satine!”

As soon as the Duchess stopped crying, another pair of lungs did.

“Congratulations,” the medical droid beeped, “you have a daughter.”

Fesma wrapped up the baby in the spare blanket and gently placed her in her mother’s arms. Khaami rested her head on Satine’s shoulder.

“Tyra-Satine,” smiled the Duchess, “I think it fits her perfectly.”

Within the next hour, both birth certificates were filled out, and while Khaami helped Satine nurse the babies, Fesma wiped the droid’s memory and began to clean up.

[shinobirain24]

It was a Saturday afternoon and Weiss and Neptune held hands to meet his parents for the first time. It was then that the two looked at each other and blushed, smiling. "What's wrong, Snow Angel?" Asked Neptune.

Weiss ran her hand into her cheek in nervousness. Thinking of the reaction of his parents once introduced. "I don't know, Neptune. Ever since we got engaged. I am not sure how your parents would react, cause you know..." Weiss said.

Neptune figured that because she is a Schnee. She thought she would get rejected. But he knew otherwise that her personality counts and not her name. "Hey, don't worry about it. I am sure my parents would have to get to know you first. Least my brother won't be here to ruin the mood. On the bright side when I met your mom, she is actually nice, and too exciting when we told her the news."

-One month ago-

Willow gripped on Neptune's hand a bit tightly as she just got excited for their engagement. And saw some kindness in him. Unlike Weiss' father, Jacques. Weiss never saw this side of her mother before. Normally she would be more composed.

"Give me grandchildren!" She told him. Making Neptune eye-widened. Weiss is also jolted at this reaction.

"Mother!" Weiss and Whitley sighed.

-Present-

"Sorry about that. I never saw this side of my mother before. But she seemed better than before since my father is now gone." Weiss said. Even a bit shocked at her mother's reaction. She was glad that she accepted her fiancé. If her father were here, he would've went after him like a tyrant, which he already was.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm glad things gotten better since the wars." Neptune said. Recalling the events of meeting Willow. "Also, I might have to want you about my sisters." Neptune stammered. Weiss looked at him with surprise as m she did not know he has sisters.

"I don't know you have sisters." Weiss blinked. "What about them?"

"They are triplets, Vesta and Juno went to Haven together, while Ceres is a doctor, she's sweet and all, so there's nothing to worry about cause I think you might get along with her just fine. Needless to say, Juno and Vesta can be a bit of a powerhouse. It's safe to say they are overprotective of me. The last guy who picked on me got sent to the hospital after Juno and Vesta beat him up badly." Neptune rubbed the back of his head.

"Oh, I guess they couldn't help but love their little brother. Take it from my sister, she always believed I have to be on my own feet. But it doesn't stop her from helping me find my own ground." Weiss said.

Then minute they knocked the door. Weiss breathed a bit to keep calm when meeting others. Then when the door opened and Neptune's father Saturn is the first on the front door. "Son?" He greeted.

"Hey, dad. Sorry it's been too long...and..." Before he could say anything, Saturn greeted his son with a hug. "I am so happy you finally come for a visit!" He teared up. And then turned to Weiss. "Oh, who is this lovely young lady?" Weiss then introduced herself.

"Please to meet you, Mr. Vasilias. My name is Weiss Schnee, and your son is very wonderful." She smiled whole blushing at the same time seeing how sweet the reunion was between father and son. "It's a pleasure, Miss Schnee." He greets.

"Saturn, what's this all about?! I thought I heard panic, but..." His wife, Lydia covered her mouth in shock to see her son in person. She then launched herself into a hug. "My baby! Look how big you've grown!" She noticed his height almost as tall as her husband. "Great to see you too, mom."

Weiss is a bit astonished to see her fiancé's mother looking a bit younger than her husband. She must've been in good health. Lydia turned to Weiss and greeted her with a smile. "Oh my goodness. Neptune told me about you and you looked very beautiful!" Lydia squealed. As Weiss paled a bit that she never expect this kind of greeting before but did not say a word.

"Uh...thank you..." Weiss stammered. "You look also lovely as well." She told her back to ease up a bit. That's when Lydia gave her a hug, unexpectedly. The same reaction far joyful. Like Willow. "Come here!" She said. Weiss blushed, a little taken aback by the surprise. But tried to be polite. Then Lydia wrapped her arm around Weiss as she showed her the entrance. "Come on in, teriyaki and sushi can't eat themselves. Help yourselves!" She said cheerfully.

Then they all entered the house for a meeting. Later in the living room. "So I heard your sister is leading the military now, you must be very proud of her." Lydia said. Weiss nodded in agreement. "I am, she taught me in some way of gaining my own ground. Since my father is long gone, our family is free to chose our own paths."

Lydia sighed in relief for the mentioning of Jacques now deceased. "Well, I for one relieved. Ever since he framed Saturn for weaponry trafficking. I had to defend him in court. Not once he was ever locked up until now." Lydia recalled the case. This made Weiss paled a bit. But maintain her composure. "I for one, agreed. Not once did my father paid the price. I am also happy he is out of our lives."

"I am sure you don't deserve your father's treatment towards you. Your mother and I had been close at a young age. And for some reason, Jacques had been depriving her right to contact me. I couldn't help but feel bad for her. And as a result of the past, Jupiter grew to resent your sister."

"That I did not know. But once the wedding starts. You and my mother can make up for lost time." Weiss insisted. This got Saturn and Lydia surprised to hear that word. "You don't mean...?" They paused as Neptune and Weiss nodded as she showed them a silver ring that he used to propose to her. "Yep, he proposed to me." This brought joy.

Later, after the meeting. They decided to have some time to themselves. "Your parents are actually nice. Never have I thought they would be this joyful." Weiss admits. "From what I heard, your dad and your mom. They did work together on multiple cases. They seemed so happy together." Weiss said. A bit jealous that she never had parents like that.

"How so, Snow Angel?"

"The thing is, my parents were never like that. Form what I can remember, my father always kept his distance from my mother. All he did was give her a cold shoulder. For me, it was way harsher. The more I saw this, the more I thought some parents are like this, but it just wasn't right." Weiss told him.

"I get where you're coming from. Mom saw cases like that before. That's why I decided to work with law enforcement. To help others in need. When I was a kid. I used to call myself a coward. All those negative thoughts kinda blocked me from reality. I hate hurting others because of my semblance."

"Maybe that makes two of us. I'm glad you decided this yourself. I for one learned one thing. Seeing the world today, it was crazy, but it was also fun. If I were to still be an heiress, I wouldn't have met you today." Neptune took her by surprise by wrapping her arms around her in an embrace.

"You are the best one that's ever happened to me. I promised you, I'll do whatever so can for you. I don't care if you're a Schnee anyway. Your happiness is my happiness."

"Neptune, there's no need to be worked up about this! I appreciate it, really! But..."

"But I really mean it." Neptune finished. As they looked into each other's eyes.

Later, Saturn and Lydia present them the kimonos they were never familiar with. "Ta-da!" Lydia cheered. "Mom, what are these?" Neptune asked, a bit confused.

"These are what your father and I wore for our wedding! Black for the groom and white for the bride! Those are actually Mistral's traditional wear. Dont they look so beautiful?!" Asked Lydia.

Weiss and Neptune looked at each other. "Actually, they are. What do you think?" Neptune is at a loss for words. "I am not sure..."

"Come on, son. It won't hurt if you tried it on first." Saturn said. Suddenly they heard a crash from the kitchen and they ran to check it out. It was two of the triplets, Vesta and Juno. Standing above a Nevermore they killed and made a hole in the walls. "Haha! Another day, another Grimm down! Take that!" Vesta then paid attention to her parents. "Sorry, Daddy! Juno is not the type to find landing spaces." Vesta apologized while Juno is too busy celebrating another hunt completed.

"Guys, seriously?!" Neptune groaned. Then his sisters jumped off to hug him. "Our baby brother is back!" Making Neptune feeling embarrassed. "Nice to see you too! Please let me go!" Neptune pleaded while his sisters gripped on him, being overly affectionate. "Aw, come on, don't be baby! Just a few more minutes!" Juno cheered. Then eyed on Weiss. "Who is she?"

"Um...hi." Waved Weiss. Suddenly, Ceres came home from work in the hospital. "Daddy! I'm home! I heard Neptune's back and...!" Ceres paused to see her sisters and the Nevermore. The turned to Weiss. "You must me Weiss. It's nice to meet you. Sorry about my sisters. Also, I have to warn you. Don't get me wrong. I love my brother, but he is a flirt." She whispered the last thing near her ear.

"Don't worry about it, it's nice to meet you too." Ceres seems genuine, but more likely to save other girls from heartbreak. Since she seems to be gentle but strict out of the triplets. Not sure is her brother changed or not. "Ceres! I'm not that guy anymore!" Snapped Neptune.

"Don't worry, I knew you grown. I am sure your sisters are amazing too." Weiss assured. Then Lydia grasped her hand. The same reaction Willow had shown before. "Please say you'll give me grandchildren!" Pleaded Lydia. Making the rest of the Vasilias household, except Vesta and Juno, paled. "Mom!" Shouted Neptune.

"Lydia! It's too soon to ask something too personal!" Saturn joined Neptune. "Mom!" Added Ceres. As much as Saturn wanted grandchildren, he knows patience is a virtue. And Lydia did not seemed to get any older, physically. As for Vesta and Juno, they are getting too excited to have a niece or a nephew. But for Weiss and Neptune, it was getting too much. But decides to wait until things have calmed down a bit.

"Eeek! Did you hear that?!" Juno squealed.

"Yeah, just give us a niece or a nephew! I don't care!" The sisters held hands and jumped up and down. Much to the dismay of their third triplet sister, Ceres. "Vesta, Juno, not you too. Did you not see the damage you caused there." Ceres gestured at the broken walls. "Lighten up, sweet sister! Think of all the fun we can have with their kids!"

"Want my advice? Get yourselves some boyfriends." Ceres advised strictly. But they are not listening.

"So, when's the wedding?" Saturn asked. Awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. "We've been thinking a month later." Weiss replied. The couple looked at each other and smiled, knowing that it might not be a perfect wedding, but it will be a great time to spend with their families.

[frostsinth]

Burdened by the Stars - Pt. 2

Part 1 - MasterList

I am having so much fun writing this story so far. I had a bit of a struggle to figure out how I wanted it to go, but I think I’ve got that down now. And so it’s getting a bit easier. I hope you guys love this part as much as I do, because it has some returning characters.

I’ve already got most of the next chapter written, so I might post it 12/24 or so if I have enough interest and get far enough along to continue to be ahead of myself.

If you like my work, please think about going to BuyMeACoffee (which you can access from my MasterList above or through my header) to support me. If you would like to commission a piece, DM or shoot me an ask for details.

All the best!

We reached the outer walls of the goblin city an hour or two shy of nightfall, and I heard the trumpets announcing our approach as the gates swung wide. I smiled eagerly, and spurred my mount into a graceful canter through the streets of the outer city. The majority was below ground and deep into the mountainside, but since the signing of the Peace Treaty between the Kingdoms somewhere around a dozen years before, the goblins had set up a trade haven here on the surface. During the day, the streets were often bustling, but with night fast approaching and temperatures dropping they had a quiet air of productivity about them now. A mixture of goblins spattered with the occasional human were closing up shop as I rode, and I heard a few happy cries of greeting and murmurs of excitement when they recognized me as I passed them by. My hair billowed and bounced out wildly behind me, and I offered a friendly wave to the merchants and shoppers who greeted me as I left the royal carriage far behind and rode up the slope to the castle proper.

Those gates opened as well without delay, and the echo of my horse’s hooves clattered about the cobblestones. A herald darted from one side doorway, quickly straightening his tunic. He had only half my name out before I passed him, and he gave a tiny puff of air as he realized the pointlessness of his loud announcement of my arrival was overshadowed by the racket of hooves. But news certainly did travel fast here regardless. It had only been maybe ten minutes since I had first crossed the threshold of the outer city, and already someone was waiting for me at the top of the long, shallow steps. I pulled up my mare short before the wide stairs of the main doors at the head of the courtyard, and my smile grew at the familiar figure I saw standing before them with his shoulders squared and his hands clasped behind his pin-straight back.

I called out to him loudly with a cheery greeting, already swinging out of the saddle before my mount had come to a full stop. A few attendants rushed forward, and I passed her reins over with a kind word of thanks to them and a pat to her thick neck.

The second eldest of our family looked down at me with a slightly exasperated expression. It could be hard to tell with him sometimes; like our oldest brother, he tended to conceal most of his emotions beneath a stony façade. Remnants of a childhood with our strict father, I had been told, though I recalled only very little of that time myself. Not to mention that the etiquette of human court still aired towards a more stoic and reserved composure. But I knew both my brothers well enough to read the tiny changes which denoted their thoughts behind their masks. So I already knew King Nikostratus was not particularly pleased to see me on his doorstep that evening even before he spoke.

“Chickadee, what are you doing here?” He exclaimed as I skipped up the steps to him. “Valerianus assured me he would send word ahead for when to expect you.”

Despite the scolding edge to his voice, he enveloped me in a warm hug when I reached him. It had been more than three months since we had last seen each other after all, though of course we wrote to each other regularly. I forgot how much I had missed him myself until I was firmly enveloped in his arms and his familiar scent. I saw his expression had softened a little by the time I pulled back, and he fondly pushed my hair out of my face as he must have done a million times before.

“The roads were perfectly clear, Niko!” I told him, not fighting his fussing over my wild locks. “I don’t know what Val was waiting for, but I got tired of waiting for it.”

“Please tell me you at least informed our brother you were leaving?” He bemoaned, a slight frown pinching at his brow. I gave him a tiny, sheepish grin, and he sighed heavily in defeat. Gesturing over an attendant. “Morgana, you cannot just ride back and forth across the countryside whenever you very well feel like it. You are a Princess for goodness sakes. It’s dangerous!”

“But Niko-!”

“Auntie Gana!” Came a shouting chorus of gleeful voices from behind my brother in the castle, interrupting his reprimanding and my planned defense.

I dropped to one knee with a returning grin as two of my nephews and one of my nieces sprinted into my arms. They very nearly knocked me over with their combined weight, and I laughed as I fell back onto my bottom.

“My goodness!” I gasped. “Look at how you’ve all grown! Izaak, is that you?? I can barely recognize you! And Lorette! You’ve grown your hair so long!”

I scooped up their youngest, Viktor, into my arms as his remained stubbornly latched around my neck. The other two let me unwrap them so I could stand once more, but clung to my legs and tunic excitedly. I vaguely overheard my brother giving instructions to the attendant to send word to Val about my surprise but safe arrival. I placed a hand on Izaak’s head, scruffing the eleven year old’s hair. He pushed my hand away with a soft yelp and a fussing word before quickly working to smooth out the messy blonde curls as best he could. Lorette tugged on my shirt.

“Auntie Gana, are you here for the rest of winter now?” She asked eagerly.

I looked up at Niko, raising one eyebrow pointedly. I heard the creak of the carriage arriving in the courtyard, followed by the click of its doors as my Ladies emerged from within. My brother looked over at it, then gave another heavy sigh, shaking his head.

“Honestly, chickadee, I should send you straight back.” He told me, but belittled his words by turning and leading the way into the castle proper. “This behavior is absolutely unacceptable and-”

“Ah, I thought I heard the trumpets! And look who’s come to call!” Came a cheery voice, interrupting us for a second time. We turned as a group to face the goblin King as he strode down the hall with an excited skip in his step. “Finally! I thought our little bird might just end up staying south for the winter this year!”

Viktor wriggled to be released at the sight of his father, squealing with delight. I put the four year old on the ground to sprint over to the King next, who scooped him back up with a small touch of difficulty. Even at four, the little human boy was starting to outgrow his tiny 5’2 foot goblin parent. But if the weight bothered him, the goblin King didn’t let it show, sauntering over with a toothy grin and his son perched on one hip.

“Grier, thank goodness,” I greeted him, giving my brother’s husband a warm and grateful smile of relief, “Just in time to talk some sense into Niko! He wants to send me back!”

“Send her back??” Exclaimed Grier, his brow shooting up as he looked over at Niko. “Whatever for?? She just got here!”

His voice was full of his usual vibrant lightness, and it echoed about the large hallway around us. I felt like I was floating on air at its sound. I loved the vibrancy of the goblin kingdom, especially compared to the solemn human court of Geriveria, and that vivacity was in no small part due to its monarchs. It always made me feel so happy to see both of them, though it might be hard to see how they were compatible at all at first glance. Where my brother was soft spoken, stoic, and as unreadable as stone, his husband was everything the opposite. Grier was flamboyant, loud, and wore his emotions on his sleeves for everyone to see. While Niko wore dark solid coats with sensible black or grey pants and subdued gold buttons, Grier wore loud prints, usually several of them at once, with strange cuts, frills, and styles. His long blonde hair was absolutely wild in contrast to Niko’s short cropped black. He wore bangles and bobbles and earrings, where the most my brother ever wore was a decorative belt or a ceremonial sword at his hip. One would be hard pressed to find a more unalike pair of men. But one would be equally hard pressed to find a pair that somehow worked as well together as they did. Or made each other half as happy.

Niko gave Grier a look which equaled the same level of exasperation he had given me just a few moments prior. “She snuck out of the castle, again,” he told him, his voice as level and smooth as always but hinting at his frustration around the edges, “She didn’t inform King Valerianus she was leaving. And she didn’t send word ahead.” His hazel eyes shot back to me, narrowing slightly. “What if something had happened to her on the road? We would never have known until it was far too late.”

I took the scolding with a slightly bowed head, biting my tongue, and even Izaak and Lorette hid behind my legs with the sternness of my brother’s voice. Perhaps out of sympathy; I was sure they had heard that tone more than once themselves. It had the quality of making one feel not fearful of punishment, but instead horribly guilty for their actions. And longing to correct whatever disappointment one had inadvertently fostered. I rested a hand on each of their heads reassuringly.

Grier, however, seemed unaffected by the tone, and waved his free hand with a loud scoff that echoed about the stone hall. “Nonsense! She’s here safe now, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” He nudged his husband with his elbow. “Let the girl be, Nikostratus. I’m sure she’s learned her lesson and won’t ever scare you like that again.” His scarlet eyes flicked to me, and his slender brows raised high. “Right, little bird? Certainly your brothers have enough to worry about?”

I nodded solemnly, silently thankful for his intervention. Otherwise the lecture might have continued all night. “Yes, you’re right.” I glanced over at Niko. “I’m sorry, Niko, I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise I won’t do it again.”

“See there? No harm done.” Grier shifted his grip on Viktor, cocking one brow at Nikostratus. “What do you think then?”

My brother gave another long, deep sigh, shaking his head. He considered the goblin for a moment, then I saw his hazel eyes flick down to the children at my knees. I saw the sternness lift from his features again, and Izaak released my leg to move over and stand at his side with a shy smile.

“I suppose I am outnumbered.” He mused, sounding almost indifferent to the fact as he tenderly smoothed Izaak’s hair behind one ear. But then lifted a scolding finger to point at me. “Just this once, I’ll let it go. But never again, chickadee.” He warned.

Grier was already grinning wide before I could offer a response. “Excellent! I’m so happy that’s settled!” He turned to me. “You are just in time for dinner! Would you like to go to your rooms to wash up before? You’ll have to forgive the state of them, we didn’t have a chance to have them fully prepared for your arrival.” He gave a friendly wave to Safa and Lisbet over my shoulder. “I’m sure your Ladies might be able to help to that end, and would remember where everything is should you require aid.”

I smiled back at him. “I should change at the very least. I probably stink of horse.” 

That made the goblin laugh, and he hoisted his youngest over one shoulder so that he squealed with delight as well. “You can’t be any worse than these little beasties of ours!”

His words had Izaak and Lorette giggling as well.

“Inunu! I took a bath today! I don’t stink at all!” Lorette proclaimed, going over to wrap herself around his leg. “Izaak is the smelly one! Boys are always smelly!”

“I am not!” He whined angrily, stamping one little foot at his sister. “I take a bath everyday! Right, papa?”

“I know you do, Izaak. You smell wonderful, of course.” Niko reassured him, gently tucking his fingers under his little pointed chin briefly.

“Where are all the rest of the little beasties then?” I asked, looking around as we made our way down the main hall. “Or perhaps I should just follow my nose?”

“Oh, they’re around here somewhere, getting into mischief I am sure.” Grier replied, waving his hand about errantly as his present children burst into a fresh set of giggles at my teasing. “They’ll be down for dinner, gods know they are always hungry.”

“Chickadee,” my brother began as the two older children sprinted off down the hallway ahead of us, bickering amid themselves, “What made you leave without telling Valerianus? That’s not like you, and you know he worries-”

I groaned, shaking my head. “Come on, Niko.” I grumbled, surprised to find myself quite irritated at his prying. “I’ve only been here two minutes! Can’t the nosy brother act wait until later? I’ve got to go get washed up for dinner.”

He looked slightly appalled by my words. “But-”

“I’m here all winter,” I reminded him before he could finish, hopefully curtailing the conversation successfully again, “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up. Right now, I want to go get out of these clothes. Plus I’m famished! And I still haven’t seen Corwin and the twins yet!”

I saw him open his mouth to speak again, and darted over before he could. Springing to the tips of my toes and wrapping my arms around him for a quick hug. His response sputtered on his lips, and I used the opportunity to dart away, my Ladies trailing as fast as they could behind me, hiding their own giggles behind gloved hands. His words had struck a chord of guilt in me that had nothing to do with how I had left without telling Valerianus, and my Ladies’ giggles had me flushing a little darker... I certainly did not want to remember the strange visitor that had driven me out of Geriveria’s castle. But couldn’t help lingering on the thought of him, as he had come unbidden to my thoughts anyways… I wondered if he had anyone to worry about him…

“Was she always this difficult?” I heard my brother mumble softly as I made my way to the nearest stairwell to head to my tower rooms. “I swear, I don’t remember having this much trouble with her when she was little.”

“She’s always been trouble.” I heard Grier chuckle quietly in response. “But she’s all grown up now, Nikostratus. You can’t keep her a little girl forever.”

Another sigh. “... Perhaps if you cast that time spell on her...”

The goblin King’s laughter followed us the rest of the way up the stairs.

...

I sighed deeply, kicking about the powdery snow with my boots as I trudged over to set up my targets by the riverbed again. The forests were quiet this time of year, and a lingering storm from the night before crunched fresh snow underfoot as I moved. I didn’t bother to walk with a lighter step; it didn’t matter. I wasn’t far enough away from the outer castle wall to be in danger, nor was I trying to be particularly stealthy to hide from the old bottles I had brought along for target practice. I didn’t suppose they would much care if I were upwind or down. The forests surrounding the castle were at a high enough altitude that they were mostly inaccessible to anyone coming from beyond the kingdom borders, though it ran alongside the main road in places. I could be alone, but wouldn’t run into any patrols. And was close enough to return with haste should I hear the distinctive alarm bells that signified my absence had been noticed. 

Not that it should be today, though perhaps Safa and Lisbet would be looking for me at the castle. I had given them and everyone else the slip that morning when I had left without a word. Tired of their prying and longing for some time alone. I doubted they would spend much time looking for me; I had long outgrown any need for chaperones or nursemaids. Their positions as my Ladies were mostly ceremonial. Occasionally they would help me dress (for my more elaborate and highly disdained ensembles) and they made sure my chambers were kept neat. Otherwise, their only other responsibility was keeping me company. As of late I had pushed for them to take more time for themselves, and they had reluctantly agreed. Giving me long afternoons or sometimes almost full days to myself. They would likely think today no different.

As I collected the bottles and set them back on the fallen tree, I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering again. As they had frequently over the past few days since my arrival at the goblin castle. And Niko’s pestering desire to speak to me had not made my stay any easier. Luckily, he was King after all, and his Royal duties kept him pretty busy. Add that to the overall huge size of the castle, and it was pretty easy to avoid him. Especially as he had quite the knack for getting very lost in its halls without a proper guide. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how he had managed to call the castle his home for the last decade and still not know how to get from the dining hall to his own bedroom without getting lost. But as it was to my advantage this time, I decided to take it as a blessing.

It was my only blessing at the moment, as it seemed my conscience was weighing rather heavily on me. Every time I had even a breath without something to occupy it, my mind raced to the thought of the strange half-orc I had met in the palace gardens of Geriveria. The sky was as dark as my thoughts as I fretted and worried over him. Was he alright? Had I sent him to his death? Certainly, the trek to the crags of Almayit was not an easy one in fair weather, let alone in the deep of winter. Or so I had been told. And the forests of Pyejara? I had read such stories of the beasts that lurked there. I shivered, both against the chill that had descended upon the world with a vengeance for the mild weather days that had preceded it, and for the thought of that fool orc lost somewhere, perhaps in the rocky outcropping. My mind supplied ample visions of misfortune for the poor fellow, to which my stubbornness gave offhanded replies that only left me feeling a little guiltier. His shoulders were bare, and it’s been so cold! Well, then he should have worn a cloak. The footing there is hazardous, what if he twists his ankle out there all alone? Then he shouldn’t have gone alone. I did warn him it was a dangerous place. If he got hurt or lost, it was his own fool fault! Especially for having taken the word of a woman he had just met, after all!

Still, I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering to him, even now as I set my targets and stared at the icy cold water of the small riverbed. I wished perhaps I hadn’t been quite so impulsive and brash. Surely there were other ways to rid myself of a pesky suitor, orc or otherwise. I could have simply told him the truth; that there was no way in hell I was getting married. That was not the path for me, nor had it ever even remotely interested me. I had never fawned over fairytales of true love, or imagined myself a Queen of anywhere. I didn’t want to be some polished princess set on a sparkling throne and no more useful than a flower painted on a wall. I didn’t want to be seen as a reward, or a trophy wife. And I certainly didn’t want to stay in one place for the rest of my life. It may have been a perfect and happy ideal for my brothers, but I had loftier goals for myself. 

I paused, thumbing the bowstring thoughtfully. I welcomed the change as my thoughts shifted to wondering how much longer I would have to wait for my own adventure to start. I had spent my life reading about them, or prying them from travelers and merchants. How did one start these things anyways? In the stories, there was always a catalyst. Something that came along to change the main character’s routine. I wondered what mine would be, or if I could in some way instigate it. Perhaps I needed to simply leave. Pack a saddle and go out into the world. I felt the itch of it in my palms, the biting urge in my legs. I imagined with glee the freedom of the open road, of wandering wherever I wished without the binds of my title weighing me down. Out in the world where no one knew nor cared who I was or where I had come from...

Grier had always said there was a natural magic to the world. When I was little, I used to get jealous of the way he could snap his fingers, mutter a word, and simply manipulate the world around him. I poured over the spell books that I managed to sneak out of the royal library, trying my hardest to understand why it worked for him and the other goblins but not for me. When my efforts had been discovered, when Niko had tried to explain to little twelve year old me that humans weren’t able to learn magic... I had been mad; mad at Niko. Mad at Grier. Mad at magic for refusing me, even though I wanted it so much and tried so hard. 

Then Grier had taken me to the side and in that soft way he was so good at, said something to me that stuck solidly in my mind even to this day. So much so that I could hear it now as clearly as if he were standing beside me speaking the words anew.

“Magic does not exist to be bent to our will.” He had told me, handing me a handkerchief to wipe at my tear stained cheeks. “It is not made to be commanded about; it has a will of its own.”

“But you command it!” I had argued.

He then shook his head. “I ask of it, and it accepts.” He had replied. “It is a partnership, an understanding… and goblins have been speaking with magic for many, many centuries.”

“.... So Niko was right? I’ll never be able to learn magic?” I had whispered sadly, swallowing back a fresh wave of tears.

He seemed to think about this for a moment, then shook his head again. “You may never hear it,” He admitted, “... Not in the way I do. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be able to hear you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Magic is all around us.” He explained. “It’s in the air we breathe, and in the stone at our feet… It is always listening.” His toothy grin had filled his face. “How else do you explain the rain starting just as you’re thinking things can’t get any worse? Or when you’re already having a bad day and you accidentally drop your dessert? Or when you spend hours looking for something just to find it in your pocket? Or what about when you bite into a pastry and it brings you back in time to when you used to bake with your brother?”

“...That’s magic?”

He nodded, still smiling. “Sometimes if you think or worry about something enough, magic will hear you. And who knows what it’ll do when it does.”

I was forcibly reminded of this fact when I heard the snap of a branch in the trees behind me. I spun gracefully on one foot, raising my bow and notching an arrow all in the same motion. So that by the time I was facing my would-be attacker, I already had the string drawn level to my ear.

I nearly let it loose in shock when my eyes fell upon the hulking yellowish-green figure standing before me.

Erramun scowled at me, his brow becoming more pronounced as he scrunched it together. Despite the cold, he still wore nothing but the pauldron on his shoulder and the furs about his hips. He was clutching one large hand at his side, and I noticed he was hunched over slightly. He was also filthy. Covered from head to boot with dirt and mud, and gods knew what else. The recognition must have hit him at the same time it hit me, because he shook his head.

“The gods certainly have a sense of humor,” He growled, “To put you back in my path.”

I hesitated, but felt the strong urge to keep the arrow notched. As I was suddenly reminded he was larger than me, and obviously quite cross. Though I was sure he had a good reason to be. My stomach twisted in knots as my hazel eyes darted over him, accessing every inch. Trying to decide how best to handle this particular situation.

“You are certainly the last person I expected to see as well.” I replied coolly. “... Did you find the flower then?” I added, as if it were no more than a casual comment about the weather.

The half-orc laughed, a booming sound that reverberated around the trunks of the trees surrounding us. “Some flower, eh? Magical and rare?” He replied, his scowl deepening. “I searched high and low for it. Then I go back to the castle-” He took a slow, almost menacing step forward, and I matched him for a wary step back “-and the staff tells me that the Princess left.” He cocked his head to the side, considering the tip of my arrow as I straightened a bit taller nervously. “You forgot to mention I had a deadline.”

“We left rather suddenly.” I told him, careful to keep my voice steady. “How did I know you would be back so soon?”

Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to come back at all! Being sent on a wild goose chase, only to return and find out the one person he had sought to impress had left for the winter. By the gods, how had he even managed to get this far? I glanced about, but he seemed to be alone. No one had guided him here. Were orcs so good at hunting that he had been able to track me like a dog, despite my trail being nearly a week cold? I highly doubted that, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously. I doubted also that the palace staff would have told him where I had gone, especially to a stranger at court. So how had he managed to charm that out of them? What else was he hiding?

He shifted, considering me with an equal wariness. “... So the goblin Princess is here?”

I was very good at keeping emotions from my face, especially the ones I didn’t want anyone else to see. Human court was no place to let such things slip, and I was very practiced there. But I still nearly lost my composure at his words. My lips twitched, and I was much more aware of the distinct pull of the bowstring against my fingertips than I had been previously. I wasn’t sure which was more surprising; that he was still interested after all I had put him through, or that he still didn’t realize who he was talking to.

I chewed over my words for a long moment. “... And if she is?”

He growled from somewhere deep in his chest. I almost winced, but quickly realized the sound wasn’t menacing. It was… affirmative, almost.

“Then I want to meet her.” Emerald eyes fixed on the tip of my arrow again. “Will you put that toothpick down, girl?” He grumbled. “You said you would help me. And I think you owe me now.”

His words sparked a bit of fire in my belly. “Owe you?? Are you really that desperate?” I scoffed. “Are there no orc ladies for you to court back home? Why are you even still here?”

His expression shifted drastically at my sneering, and I drew in a deep breath at the way it made his whole face seem to change. He glanced down, as if burdened by something he could not find the words to describe. But I knew that look. I had seen that look on Val’s face. On Niko’s. That weight of a thousand weights… I swallowed hard, but felt a little of the tension leave the bowstring as my tight grip relaxed. When he looked back up at me, his previous scowl was gone. Replaced by something I wasn’t quite sure how to name. But it made me lower my bow the rest of the way. Who was this man?

“I am a stranger to these lands… I cannot do this alone, but it needs to be done.” He told me, his voice quieter than I had yet heard it, but determined. He sighed, almost in irritation. As if resigned to his fate. “... Will you help me?”

I looked over his shoulder, back towards the castle. I felt guilt and stubbornness in equal parts, fighting for position inside me. But I couldn’t. How was I supposed to help him, when I knew what he wanted? And knowing that what he wanted went against everything I had ever dreamed for myself? I could feel the looming trap of his intent like a heavy iron cage dangling over my head. Following my every move. Ready to drop at the slightest provocation and take away the last of my freedom for good. I had already let this go on for far too long. I couldn’t keep up the lie any longer, but felt the truth was far too heavy to speak. Best to just toss both out the window.

I shook my head, resolved. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” I replied, returning the arrow to the quiver at my back with one smooth motion and slinging my bow over my shoulders. “I’ve already made enough of a mess of things. Now, if you’ll pardon me-”

I went to collect my pack from the snowy ground and saw him open his mouth as he stepped forward to intercept me. Likely with some argument or further point for his case. But as he stepped forward, barely a yard away, he staggered, wincing heavily. I moved forward instinctually as he fell to one knee, and found my hand on the pauldron plating his shoulder before I had fully realized where I was. 

His big head pulled back, emerald eyes meeting mine. Barely a hair’s breadth between our faces. I had dropped to a crouch beside him, and after a long pause where I found myself trapped in his eyes… I pulled back my hand.

He growled quietly, glancing off to the side.

“Are you alright?” I asked tentatively.

He offered a grunt, shrugging one big shoulder. “I will be fine.”

The half-orc shifted his weight, nearly bumping into me as he moved to yank himself back to his feet clumsily. He got almost halfway there before he started staggering again. Once more, I jumped forward, forgoing my previous embarrassment and hesitation to shove my shoulder into his. Propping his larger body up with mine to the best of my ability.

“You certainly don’t seem fine.” I shot back. I saw his hand move from his side as he tried to find his balance, and my eyes went wide with shock to see his side gashed and bloody beneath. “You’re bleeding!”

It was his turn to scoff. “It’s barely a flesh wound.” He grumbled.

“Barely a flesh wound?” I echoed, shaking my head incredulously. “You can’t stand straight. I think we’ve passed the notion of ‘barely’.”

Erramun shrugged, shifting his weight and slowly easing himself back to his own feet. But I noticed him look me over again. I wondered what he was thinking as he did. Did he find me as annoying as I found him? Some errant fly he just couldn’t seem to get rid of? I shuffled my feet in the snow, casting my own attention over towards the castle. Then back at him. I realized now that some of that previously unidentified substance smeared across his filthy skin and furs was probably blood. I could smell it a little now that I was closer, the air had a tangy iron bite to it. It made my stomach twist a little more in guilt.

“... Where are you headed?”

He shrugged again, wincing as he did and his hand returning to clutch at his side. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

I groaned. He was an idiot. An absolute, bonafide dumbass. I was quickly realizing that I couldn’t in good conscience leave him again. But I couldn’t exactly bring a bloody and wounded orc through the front gates either. I didn’t imagine I would much enjoy the lecture I would get from Niko once the truth came out. My stomach twisted further with dread at the thought. My mind raced through the other options. Leaving him in the outer city? The stubborn ass would probably end up on my doorstep again. Send him away? I was surprised he had made it as far as he had already. I wasn’t sure he would make it to the road without help now. So what did that leave me with? I almost groaned again, but settled for a sigh as I made up my mind.

“How did you get here?” I asked him, collecting up my bag.

“Eh?” He blinked at me.

I sighed again, more heavily this time, and hoped it was the blood loss making him thicker than a brick wall. “How did you get here?” I repeated. “Did you ride?”

He nodded after a moment. “I have a horse.”

“Well, that’s how most people ride, yes.” I returned, shaking my head. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“You’ll introduce me to the Princess?” He asked, and I thought his voice sounded a few octaves higher with his suddenly piqued interest.

I resisted the urge to wince myself, clearing my throat and shouldering my pack. “I didn’t say that.” I followed him as he staggered back along his own trail in the snow. “But if I leave you out here, you’ll probably freeze to death or something. And I don’t want that on my conscience.”

He snorted, shaking his own head. “I would not die.”

I almost laughed at that. “Indeed. You seem far too stubborn for such a thing.”

We had emerged to a break in the tree line, not far from the road, and found a large horse waiting there with its back legs hobbled. The big white mare whinnied excitedly as we approached, tossing her head up and down to make her mane slap upon her neck. Erramun grinned as he neared, smacking her side fondly and using her for support to maintain his balance.

“Get on.” I ordered him, giving the mare a friendly pat myself. She turned her head, flicking her ears toward me with her nostrils flaring curiously.

Erramun considered me for a moment, still leaning heavily on the mare and smearing more than a little of his blood against her white hide. Perhaps contemplating the order, and the tone with which I had issued it. Watching as I removed her hobble. He raised one eyebrow and peeked about.

“Where are we going?”

“To the castle.” I tucked the hobbling rope into a pouch on her saddle, and took my own pack off to hook over the horn of it. “I’ll take you the back way.”

“Why?”

“To avoid attention. I don’t feel like explaining to the guard why I’m dragging a bleeding orc around the city.”

“Half-orc.” He corrected me, his voice light with his teasing edge.

“So you like to remind me.” I grumbled in response, watching as he carefully hauled himself haphazardly back into the mare’s saddle. “What’s the other half? Ass?”

He laughed, and I felt a slight stiffening to my spine as the sound bounced around us. “Human.” He assured me. “Like you.”

I took up the mare’s reins, patting her nose. She lipped at my fingers, and I tickled under her chin until she gave a pleased whuff.

“Who says I’m human?” I replied lightly, careful to keep my voice overly flat as if to add to the mystery of it.

He laughed again, though softer this time. More a petering chuckle that remained trapped behind his teeth. “You smell human.”

“Smell??”

Erramun nodded. “Orcs have a good sense of smell. Not like ma’iitso, and not so much when only half-orc… but I can tell you are human when you stand close.”

I ignored the shiver that went down my spine at the reminder of our previous proximity, swallowing as I began to lead the mare back through the trees. “Ma’iitso?” I echoed the unfamiliar term by way of distraction.

The half-orc rubbed at the back of his neck, making some strange sounds in his throat. “Eh… the big wild dogs. They hunt in packs.”

“You mean matsio.” I said, realizing what he meant. “Wolves, in Common.”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and I could almost feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull. I ignored him to the best of my ability, leading the mare not to the main road, but to a small deer trail that ran along the outside wall. Luckily, the goblins depended pretty heavily upon their enchantments. I wouldn’t have to worry about being spotted as we approached the wall and followed along the smoother track I had picked out years ago. Guards did not frequent the turrets, and I knew we would not set off the magical triggers here. Once we got into the castle? That would be a different story...

UPDATE: Part Three HERE

[whatamidoingwithmylifeman]

Mortal Kombat 11 Michiko vs Canon intro fight dialogues

TW: implications of torture and ptsd

Michiko, Reiki, and Nozomi are my OCs. Reiki is genderfluid and goes by she/her and he/him pronouns. I decided to replace the guest characters with canon characters from previous games that make sense for said OC to be interacting with. Also, Sindel in this, is not the retcon Sindel she is in the games. Plus I include my own HCs.  I will post the other part to this when I am finished with it. Please read below the cut.

Baraka vs Michiko

Baraka: I smell the scent of a demon.

Michiko: I would turn that nose away before you catch the scent of your own blood!

Baraka: Come and try “Earthrealmer”.

---

Baraka: How well do you handle blades?

Michiko: As long as they aren’t running with a buzz I’m cool with it.

Baraka: Then you’re in luck.

---

Baraka: Your mate burned half our camp!

Michiko: He got scared!

Baraka: He will pay!

Cassie vs Michiko

Cassie: I didn’t know there was another woman Lin Kuei.

Michiko: Wait, another!?

Cassie: Oh you have got to meet Frost!

---

Cassie: Wait, you’re Sektor’s sister!?

Michiko: I’m trying to forget that myself...

Cassie: Then how did you get powers and he didn’t?

---

Cassie: Sooo heard you and a certain fire type were together?

Michiko: Who told you about Reiki and I!?

Cassie: Yes! It’s cannon!

Cetrion vs Michiko

Cetrion: You’re friends with my niece?

Michiko: Nozomi was the first one there for me when I became lost.

Cetrion: Treasure that friendship young one.

---

Cetrion: You aren't a cryomancer?

Michiko: I’m what you would call a demon.

Cetrion: then I must send you back into the Netherrealm.

---

Cetrion: Your anger in Hanzo is misplaced.

Michiko: he’s trying to take Reiki away from me!

Cetrion: Trust me, those aren’t his intentions.

D’vorah vs Michiko

D’vorah: This one is intrigued by your ice

Michiko: Please observe from a distance.

D’vorah: Afraid of bugs, Michiko?

---

D’Vorah: The hive would like a word with your fiery friend

Michiko: You won’t put one stinger near him!

D’vorah: Fine, this one will put them in you.

---

D’vorah: You are not human?

Michiko: no.

D’vorah: This one will end you just the same

Erron vs Michiko

Erron: Boy you must be real valuable to have a warrant this high

Michiko: What are you talking about Erron?

Erron: Your brother paid me to bring ya home.

---

Erron: You stepped out with Bi Han?

Michiko: Err almost..

Erron: Hit and miss?

---

Erron: Need help with courting some ladies?

Michiko: if I did I wouldn’t ask you.

Erron: that hurt worse than a caliber.

Frost vs Michiko

Frost: Family reunion!

Michiko: Huh? What do you mean?

Frost: You're back, and Uncle Sektor is too!

---

Frost: Wait, you’re a demon?

Michiko: Unfortunately, yes.

Frost: You just became even more badass!

---

Frost: I heard you really tore Kuai a new one when he kicked me out

Michiko: Frost, you are the only reason I returned to the Lin Kuei a few years back

Frost: You... you came back for me?

Fujin vs Michiko

Fujin: Despite being of odd origins, I sense you are more human than most

Michiko: I’m a demon Fujin. A monster.

Fujin: Even demons can achieve humanity.

---

Fujin: What has possessed you to act so violently?

Michiko: Possessed. Ha, good one Fujin.

Fujin: I am being serious Michiko!

---

Fujin: Your love for Reiki carries across the winds

Michiko: Could you bless our wedding?

Fujin: I am no Elder God.

Geras vs Michiko

Geras: For an ice type, you boil over so easily

Michiko: If people could just leave me and Reiki alone I wouldn’t be angry all the time

Geras: There’s more to your anger than just your fear of losing your lover.

---

Geras: Michiko. Demon of the Lin Kuei.

Michiko: Strange sandman. Weirdo of whatever.

Geras: You are not like many others.

---

Geras: What is your greatest desire?

Michiko: I want to be far away from Earthrealm with Reiki!

Geras: Serve Kronika, and she will grant your wish

Jacqui vs Michiko

Jacqui: You’re cooler than Sub-Zero!

Michiko: Is that a compliment or an observation?

Jacqui: Both!

---

Jacqui: So are you like the girl version of Sub-Zero, or Sektor?

Michiko: Ah! Don’t compare me to my brother!

Jacqui: Roger that.

---

Jacqui: What’s your deal with Hanzo?

Michiko: He doesn’t know how to stay away from my mate!

Jacqui: A little relationship tip for ya, jealousy isn’t romantic.

Jade vs Michiko

Jade: Do you work for Quan Chi?

Michiko: I’m a demon. Not a bitch.

Jade: That does not answer my question.

---

Jade: Child of a nymph

Michiko: how did you know?

Jade: I like to study in my free time.

---

Jade: No you may not borrow my staff!

Michiko: awe please! Just for a day!

Jade: I know what your intentions are Michiko.

Jax vs Michiko

Jax: What do they call you back home?

Michiko: Depends on who you’re referring to.

Jax: Is that good or bad?

---

Jax: You’re Lin Kuei?

Michiko: Was. And I’d like to keep it that way.

Jax: Shit. Must have been a bad trip.

---

Jax: Don’t let others define you based on your origins Michiko.

Michiko: Where was this advice when I was a kid?

Jax: Probably just outside those cold walls.

Johnny vs Michiko

Johnny: So if you’re actually a demon, then where are the horns and pitchfork?

Michiko: What do you base your imagery of demons off of?

Johnny: No comment.

---

Johnny: Cassie and I thought of some ship names for you and Reiki!

Michiko: Oh by the Elder Gods, spare me!

Johnny: What about IcyHot? No no! Freezer Burn!

---

Johnny: You may have the coldest ice around, but I’m still cooler than you!

Michiko: Tch. I’m not even gonna argue with you Cage.

Johnny: ha! So you admit it!

Kabal vs Michiko

Kabal: So do you eat souls or some shit like that?

Michiko: I eat life essence, not souls.

Kabal: What’s the difference?

---

Kabal: How are you able to withstand Reiki’s heat?

Michiko: She can control the amount of heat in her flame.

Kabal: That’s actually badass.

---

Kabal: There’s no way you and Sektor are related!

Michiko: not by blood. No.

Kabal: Wait, you're adopted?

Kano vs Michiko

Kano: could use a gal like you in the Black Dragon.

Michiko: I’d rather avoid clans. Thanks..

Kano: eh. You’re loss

---

Kano: I could help you for a favor in return.

Michiko: Didn’t your parents teach you not to make deals with demons?

Kano: Making bad deals is in me blood.

---

Kano: You know your brother’s been lookin for ya.

Michiko: Whatever he paid you, I’ll triple if you can pretend you never met me.

Kano: Deal!

Kitana vs Michiko

Kitana: You are not like many other demons

Michiko: dare I ask how?

Kitana: You have more control than you realize.

---

Kitana: I’ve heard others call you a princess. Is this true?

Michiko: Oh no! It’s just a nickname they gave me.

Kitana: I hope it is used in a good way.

---

Kitana: What brings you to Outworld?

Michiko: Escape with my mate.

Kitana: I can only offer you both so much refuge

Kollector vs Michiko

Kollector: Everyone who comes to Outworld must pay a fee

Michiko: I heard you don’t actually serve the current Kahn

Kollector: She won’t be Kahn for long.

---

Kollector: How do you get by without any wealth?

Michiko: Do you know what I am?

Kollector: A pitiful mortal.

---

Kollector: I wager you're more nymph than demon.

Michiko: You know I can’t really answer that.

Kollector: I will take my wage in hand now.

Kotal Kahn vs Michiko

Kotal Kahn: Weren’t Nymphs once considered minor Goddesses?

Michiko: Not the Nymphs of this world.

Kotal Kahn: There are others?

---

Kotal Kahn: Which lineage do you honor?

Michiko: Can’t honor a lineage that died before it could really grow, now can you?

Kotal Kahn: Surely one of your parents has a deeper origin than what is known.

---

Kotal Kahn: You seem more human than anything.

Michiko: That’s because I was raised as a human.

Kotal Kahn: So it is of nurture rather than nature

Kung Lao vs Michiko

Kung Lao: You face a Shaolin warrior

Michiko: And you face whatever the fuck you feel like calling me today.

Kung Lao: I know a God that can offer you great counseling.

---

Kung Lao: Have you seen your brother?

Michiko: What brother?

Kung Lao: Are you not related to Sektor?

---

Kung Lao: Did you ever eat any Shaolin life essence?

Michiko: see that’s the thing. I don’t remember anything when I am in that form.

Kung Lao: For your sake, you better hope you didn’t!

Liu Kang vs Michiko

Liu Kang: I know a God that can offer you great counseling.

Michiko: Is it Raiden or Fujin?

Liu Kang: Ah, I see you’ve met them both.

---

Liu Kang: You do have a heart Michiko.

Michiko: What makes you so sure?

Liu Kang: Your love for Reiki proves it so.

---

Liu Kang: The monks can help you with your anger.

Michiko: They’d probably just exorcise me.

Liu Kang: You judge incorrectly, Karasugawa.

Mileena vs Michiko

Mileena: I heard you spoken with my sister. How is she?

Michiko: She’s doing fine actually.

Mileena: Good. Mother and I do worry about her.

--

Mileena: I heard a certain shadow’s been calling your name.

Michiko: I will have nothing to do with that traitor!

Mileena: A bitter break up?

--

Mileena: Amuse me Nymph.

Michiko: No thanks, Edenian.

Mileena: You’re actually good at this.

Nightwolf vs Michiko

Nightwolf: I seek peace with my demons. You can do the same with yours.

Michiko: I am my demons, Nightwolf.

Nightwolf: Not all of them.

---

Nightwolf: Why not help de-cyberize the Lin Kuei?

Michiko: I want nothing to do with that place!

Nightwolf: Is it the place you fear, or its current inhabitants?

---

Nightwolf: You have lost yourself Michiko.

Michiko: Do I even have a self Nightwolf? Do I?

Nightwolf: The Great Spirit can help you find it.

Noob Saibot vs Michiko

Noob Saibot: Where has your love for me gone Michiko?

Michiko: It died when you joined my brother in the time merger!

Noob Saibot: Let me explain myself.

---

Noob Saibot: I see you’re friendly with those flames now.

Michiko: At least Reiki won’t betra- flames?

Noob Saibot: Oh sweet, naïve, Michiko. Have you truly not noticed him following you like a lost puppy?

---

Noob Saibot: Do you still remember our promise?

Michiko: That promise is broken and gone like the love and trust I had for you.

Noob Saibot: You’re a terrible liar, Michiko.

Raiden vs Michiko

Raiden: I normally do not allow demons in my temple.

Michiko: I am not just a demon, Raiden.

Raiden: I am aware of this.

---

Raiden: You’re of Hinpar origins?

Michiko: And Earthrealm origins too.

Raiden: So the lost realms do exist.

---

Raiden: I sense a deeper madness in you.

Michiko: No matter how far I run, I can still sense my brother nearby.

Raiden: Blame the sorcery that has been cast to bind you two. 

Rain vs Michiko

Rain: You will make a powerful ally.

Michiko: Ally or servant?

Rain: You have befriended Nozomi. So ally.

---

Rain: Your power type falls under mine.

Michiko: My ice is a category all on its own.

Rain: Prove it to me.

---

Rain: Worship me as you do Nozomi. 

Michiko: I work with Nozomi, not worship her.

Rain: You would be wise to do both.

Scorpion vs Michiko

Scorpion: I promised Reiki I wouldn't let you get hurt

Michiko: That was when we all though he was dead!

Scorpion: A promise is still a promise!

---

Scorpion: How did you walk so calmly through those flames?

Michiko: My ice is not that of a cryomancer’s Hanzo.

Scorpion: It is of a Nymph, isn’t it?

---

Scorpion: We share one thing in common.

Michiko: And what is that, Hasashi?

Scorpion: Loyalty to our loved ones.

Shang Tsung vs Michiko

Shang Tsung: Are you having fun sharing thoughts with your brother, Sektor?

Michiko: So it was you who binded us!

Shang Tsung: It was your fathers’ idea.

---

Shang Tsung: Your soul will prove most delicious.

Michiko: Jokes on you, I don’t have a soul.

Shang Tsung: You have one somewhere.

---

Shang Tsung: Michiko Karasugawa. A demon-nymph of dual origins.

Michiko: How do you know of that name?

Shang Tsung: I know of its true demise.

Shao Kahn vs Michiko

Shao Kahn: Nymphs used to serve the gods.

Michiko: That’s cause the gods have treated us like their own.

Shao Kahn: Today, they will serve me

---

Shao Kahn: Do you consume souls like that wretched sorcerer?

Michiko: I don’t eat souls, Shao

Shao Kahn: That’s Shao Kahn to you, demon!

---

Shao Kahn: Your lover is a powerful one.

Michiko: Touch her and you’re dead.

Shao Kahn: Just try and kill me, nymph!

Sheeva vs Michiko

Sheeva: You release too much of your anger in the wrong way.

Michiko: There’s a right way?

Sheeva: Through Kombat.

---

Sheeva: You and Reiki will make fine warriors!

Michiko: How so?

Sheeva: There is no greater strength, then two lovers on the battlefield together.

---

Sheeva: The Lin Kuei need you Michiko.

Michiko: I’m not going back there!

Sheeva: Even the toughest of warriors must face their fears.

Sindel vs Michiko

Sindel: You are much like my Mileena.

Michiko: Wait, how?

Sindel: You have chosen to be with your lover among all else.

---

Sindel: As queen of Edenia, I welcome you and Reiki to our realm

Michiko: We might not stay long, but thank you, your highness.

Sindel: Stay as long as you need to. This is a safe place.

---

Sindel: Where in the realms did you learn to scream like that?

Michiko: I used to have at least nine screaming matches a day with my father.

Sindel: By the Elder Gods child.

Skarlet vs Michiko

Skarlet: So you are nymph and demon?

Michiko: I am.

Skarlet: Your blood must be delicious.

---

Skarlet: You and I are of similar origins.

Michiko: How?

Skarlet: I too come from a line of nymphs.

---

Skarlet: You excel at taking life?

Michiko: I am not proud of it.

Skarlet: You should be!

Sonya vs Michiko

Sonya: I am surprised to see you back at SF.

Michiko: I need more relationship tips from Jacqui.

Sonya: I can offer them too you know?

---

Sonya: We need your help with dealing with Sektor.

Michiko: I am sorry Sonya, but I would rather keep my distance from him and that place.

Sonya: But you are the only one who can help us take him down.

---

Sonya: You really don’t have a legacy to live up to huh?

Michiko: Unless you count being a demon and a nymph.

Sonya: Well that’s when you make your own!

Sub-Zero vs Michiko

Sub-Zero: You know, since the time merger, I have not seen your past self.

Michiko: That’s because I had once lived outside the time dome of this world.

Sub-Zero: Where did you go when you died?

---

Sub-Zero: Please come back.

Michiko: Why, to look at their portaits and be reminded that I too am a monster?

Sub-Zero: You are no monster Michiko.

---

Sub-Zero: How did you escape the cyber initiative?

Michiko: buzzsaw. Buzzsaw. BuzzSaw!

Sub-zero: Michiko?

Sektor vs Michiko

Sektor: Many others have told me you fear me. Why?

Michiko: You use the magic that binds us to screw with me!

Sektor: I just wanted to be close to you...

---

Sektor: You and Reiki are engaged?

Michiko: She is my soulmate after all.

Sektor: As long as she makes you happy. 

---

Sektor: Come back home, little sister.

Michiko: So long as that painful, loud machinery operates, the answer is no!

Sektor: How badly have I hurt you?

Cyrax vs Michiko

Cyrax: If I’m mustard, and your brother’s ketchup, what does that make you and Reiki?

Michiko: Cherry and Plum.

Cyrax: Sweet!

---

Cyrax: Be lucky you managed to escape before you were cyberized.

Michiko: Be lucky the anesthesia actually worked for you.

Cyrax: You were awake during the process?!

---

Cyrax: Do I have permission to marry Sektor? 

Michiko: Do I look like my brother's keeper? 

Cyrax: Yes you do, Cain. Now answer the question.

Smoke vs Michiko

Smoke: You and my Enenra are friends?

Michiko: Wait, Enenra considers me a friend?

Smoke: He does call you his demon friend.

---

Smoke: We both harbor demons in us.

Michiko: You have a demon, I am a demon. There’s a difference Vrbada!

Smoke: Not in our circumstances, there isn’t.

---

Smoke: I finally know how you feel now…

Michiko: What are you- oh, no. Come here Tomas.

Smoke: I’ll be fine Michiko

Hydro vs Michiko

Hydro: You and Kuai both need to be careful about the fire types you associate with!

Michiko: I’m not a cryomancer, Hydro. I can handle the heat!

Hydro: That doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt!

---

Hydro: You have grown since the last time we met.

Michiko: Well demons do age quite fast.

Hydro: But you are of two odd origins. 

---

Hydro: You may be grown, but have you really honed your skills little snowball?

Michiko: I have honed more skill than you can ever imagine, water spout

Hydro: Then shall we test them, little fox?

Sareena vs Michiko

Sareena: I’ve never met such a cute demon

Michiko: Wait, there are more demons?

Sareena: oh you poor baby.

---

Sareena: We can form our own clan.

Michiko: I’m quite sick of them.

Sareena: Just give it a shot.

---

Sareena: Tell me, how often do you get to release that pent up rage of yours?

Michiko: When the moon is either red or gone

Sareena: I can show you another way.

[fluorescentpipedream]

Updated a few of my characters’ pictures last night when I was having an ADHD moment while playing WoW. 

So...

Daryl “Mason” Knox - This version of Daryl is part of our Zombie storyline (the premise of which I barely remember) and currently in the mountains above Colorado. He is a survivalist already, tanner, taxidermist and wicked good shot and when the virus began circulating, he packed up his pickup truck and headed as far into the mountains as he could. He had been in Tennessee for a little while but left there when the area started to fall as well, moving around a lot for a while before settling high in the mountains where it’s coldest, realizing the undead have a hard time moving through the snow and it seems to make their bodies more brittle. He stumbles upon Ryki and Kristy’s group (shortly after they get Mikael back from the roaming motorcycle gang (see Widower/Simon). Daryl was under the assumption that most of his family had died when the virus first took hold and started using his middle name, Mason, instead of his last name. 

Daryl Knox - Daryl is the survivalist of the Knox men, the youngest but the one who has his fingers the most in the various family businesses and also the one who discovers that a good portion of the Knox family land that backs the Blue Ridge Mountain range actually belonged to the Cherokee tribe and gives it back to them, only asking if they can continue to use the land as the hunting area he currently has it set up as. Daryl and his brothers also took a portion of the money made from the Knox Lodge (a small series of cabins built closest to the Chattahoochee National Park people can rent and go fishing and hunting for deer, quail and even armadillos) and give it back to the slave families that their great great grandfather had working for them. Daryl is quieter than the rest of his brothers, sticking to living away from nearly everyone and only coming down from the mountains when he is dropping off supplies at the Knox Family General Store in Jasper, Georgia where the family is primarily from. The general store is very rustic looking, with the old fashioned candy jars behind the counter and a small restaurant in the back where the family sells their homemade pies. (They also sell locally made and sourced jellies and jams, as well as jerky and unique gifts. Think trading post for the interior) A skilled taxidermist, Daryl has a special he runs through the Lodge that if you shoot it, he’ll stuff it (for a fee of course). 

Schyler Lewis - A former Scorpion and currently a Slayer in Los Angeles, Schyler is quiet but loving and loyal. He’s also one hell of a shot with pretty much anything, though he prefers knives over everything. He has a deep respect for RJ Jamison, as well as the former leader, BP and keeps a protective/big brother kind of watch on Queenie. He and Simon are pretty good friends, he often tries to keep an eye on the older man to keep him from going crazy.

Trevor Phillips (nothing changed, just both versions of him are going to use the same picture)

Simon Knox - Simon is the middle Knox brother, only a few years older than Daryl though he’s not particularly close to most of his family anymore. He and Jericho had once been vying for the same girl’s attention, but when he was sent to prison for a bar fight/blackout he missed the chance to be with her, even though he does very much still love her. When Simon was released from prison, Jericho gave him the chance to come home and get back on his feet again (the courts and mental health professionals released him on account of him having absolutely no memory of the bar fight other than some kid pushing him too hard and spitting on him. His anger flared up and he didn’t remember anything that had happened after that point. It wasn’t until an officer hit him on the back of the head did he come around again) and while he’s there, he and Maggie ended up in bed together after he told her what had happened. He had a ring and had been going out with a few friends the night before coming to see her. He is actually Ryder’s father, and Jericho does know. Following Ryder’s first outburst and slamming his head into the wall, tearing a stuffed animal and general unprovoked rage, Jericho had come to bed with a few scratches on his arms and gently kissed Maggie’s forehead, not coming right out and saying anything about the possibility but just telling her that whatever thing that’s weighing on her heart right now, it’s okay and he forgives her.  (Ryder has similar violent outbursts like his father, though recognizing it as was what going on with Simon, Jericho instead got his son therapy to deal with the outbursts as well as getting him involved in boxing.)

Following Ryder’s birth (and Simon getting to hold his son), Simon leaves and joins the Outlaw motorcycle gang though moves around a lot after that, winding up “settling” with Haven for a while before finally establishing a place with the Scorpions. He made quick friends with Schyler, despite a several year age gap, and when the Scorpions were assimilated into the Slayers in LA, he stayed on with them. He is prone to blackouts and violent outbursts and unfortunately does not possess much in the way of empathy toward nearly anyone. He does very much like children, and wouldn’t mind finally getting to have a family of his own. He is pansexual and it doesn’t seem to matter to him who he’s with, as long as they’re over a certain age. He’s not overly thrilled with the relationship RJ has with Jamie but she’s safe and not in any danger so he doesn’t say much about it either way. He and Floki of the Vikings have rolled around a few times, but generally speaking he is still very much in love with Maggie. Part of the reason he stays away from his family is because of how Jericho has been treating his “dying” wife. (Jericho is having an affair with a younger nurse/friend of his daughter Lorelei, while his wife is presumed to be dying from stage 4 cancer. She does make a rather miraculous recovery though, leaving him and going out to the man who has always loved her) 

Simon has some seriously reckless traits and has actually had to be sedated by members of his own gang because his anger will flare up and he goes berserk. He has NO control over his actions whenever he blacks out either. Following BP and his wife’s untimely death, Simon is taken by the Slayers along with several others and thrown into the Pit, basically an abandoned warehouse near the docks that has been hollowed out and made into a fight arena. Because of his anger issues there’s a few that believe he could have been pushed to a breaking point and lashed out, though BP never pushed his buttons and he has no desire to take the gang over. When Rollo and a handful of the Vikings reveal themselves as the masterminds (and hired by Marcone to do the deed), Simon is the one who takes an axe off of Floki’s hip, throwing it into the back of Rollo’s head before kneeling down in front of Queenie and telling her he’s always been loyal to BP and subsequently, to her.

Widower (Simon Knox) - This version of Simon is for our zombie alt world and currently in Tennessee with the Savior gang run by a Negan type. In this world, Simon was able to remarry Maggie and the two of them were living quiet happily, considering starting their family when her cancer makes a return and is incredible aggressive. As the virus starts to spread through Atlanta and they begin seeing how it eats away at the host’s body only to reanimate them, Maggie begs Simon to shoot her so she doesn’t have to suffer through her cancer and the possibility of getting the virus. At first he refuses to do it but after the hospitals shut down due to too many people contracting the virus, he takes her up to one his brother’s hunting cabins and shoots her, burying her in the backyard. He had attempted to shoot himself as well but the gun jammed and he ended up throwing it into the river instead. After Atlanta falls and the zombie virus appears to be spreading through the small towns, taking the Knox family out as far as he can tell. He and Daryl were traveling together for a little while but were separated and Simon lost track of his little brother. Assuming that his family is dead (since there’s no trace of any of them and the communications network was the first thing to go down) he gets on the back of his motorcycle and leaves. He first meets Morgan (Negan) and his group, Haven, when they stumble upon one another trying to refuel and get supplies. Simon is unhinged and no longer even trying to hide his homicidal side, since no one is there to hold him back any longer he’s completely off his rocker. He initially told Morgan and the rest to call him Widower, as he didn’t even want to link himself to the man he used to be. If the virus is ever contained, he isn’t sure there’s going to be much of a world left for him. 

Widower, Morgan and I think there’s an NPC version of Schyler with them as well find 5 yr old Mikael after the little boy panicked and ran from his aunt and uncle’s convoy during one of the zombie attacks. Morgan grabbed the boy as he was crying by the back of his jacket and puts him onto his motorcycle leading Kristy and Ryki and their group to give chase to get him back. Morgan had a son once and may have done this in order to protect him, not initially seeing the small group of survivors on the road. Widower takes over kind of protecting the little boy when their group stops at an old warehouse they use as a base. 

Morgan Caldwell - I haven’t actually decided if I’m going to make Morgan but he is Sam Caldwell’s older brother and Martin & Lynn’s uncle. He is the leader of the Haven motorcycle gang which moves around a lot and Simon was part of for a while. He is incredibly disappointed in how his little brother acts and very much wants to meet his estranged niece and nephew. 

Morgan “Negan” Caldwell - The zombie-verse version of Morgan, I know little about the man other than Widower is his right hand man and fiercely loyal to him. He genuinely seems to be concerned for Mikael and after meeting Kristy and finding out she’s pregnant while going through the virus, he may offer their services to them, as protection (or he may try to keep Kristy with him and his group masking using the air of wanting to protect her until she gives birth) There’s a lot of ways this guy can go. He isn’t particularly trustworthy, and has said one thing only to do the direct opposite of that less than a few minutes later. 

Kevin Reynolds - the oldest Reynolds brother and also the only one that’s biological to the Reynolds family. Kevin was 10 when Matt was adopted and 12 when Vartan came to live with them as well. The family typically fosters children, and seeks to give them a better life than the one they had. Kevin is currently in his later 40s, and lives in Chicago where he owns an old-fashioned record store (with actual records on the upstairs level) called Empire Records, or just The Empire by his teen/20-something staff. Kevin is gay and actually just lost his husband Jimmy to AIDS. Jimmy was the drummer for his brothers’ band Silex, and actually younger than Kevin was as well. He is currently having issues with depression following the loss of the only love in his life (up til now, obviously), though he actually has clinical depression as well. He and Matt absolutely cannot stand one another, mostly due to Matt’s homophobia, though Kevin has always been out so he’s not sure exactly where that stems from. He and Vartan are close, despite the 12 year age gap. Empire Records is a somewhat failing business, though is eventually brought under the wing of Revolver Records for its vintage, throwback to the late 80s/90s music scene and often becomes the site of the Revolver bands’ signings, which boosts their sales quite a bit too. 

Ryder Knox is getting a new picture, I just need to figure out who he actually looks like, taking his dad into a bit more consideration right now. The Knox men also all have a very distinct smile, so gotta find someone that fits. I’m stuck between these two: 

Ryder is 22 years old and lives in an apartment on his own which he pays for by an OnlyFans account. With close to 1000 subscribers, he makes money selling pictures of anything from his feet to being shirtless (sometimes in his underwear) on parts of the Knox farmland. Very gay but not very out about it. 

@musesnotebook​

[sylvie-writes]

Black Friday Shopping

Summary: Thanksgiving Dinner and Black Friday Shopping with Andy ft. your family.

Disclaimer: funny enough, I’ve wrote this back in September. 

Warnings: none. like one swear word.

As always, plz pardon any mistakes, the stories are always “proofread” but I tend to make many mistakes regardless.

Part of my Fall Writing!

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, one spent eating loads of Turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole, mac’n cheese, you name it!

Every year, you and Andy made it a tradition to go to your parents house for Thanksgiving. A time when all your aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents would flock to the (y/l/n) Household.

There wasn’t a time that Thanksgiving wasn’t looked forward to.

Your cousins brought the jokes, their parents bringing food, and your grandparents bringing the story.

It was always nice to see those distant relatives, especially now that you all had grown up, going out into the world, and started families.

Looking back, you can remember a time when you were a young girl, playing games with cousins. Now, here you all are, taking on the responsibilities that once were your parents.

Once thing you had done yesterday, was map out all the good black friday deals with your aunt.

She had all the flyers through which every family member passed around, plotting their destinations.

After all, you can’t go Black Friday Shopping without planning. 

You weren’t the kind to just shop around, no, you used Black Friday to get all the Christmas gifts. (Then again, who doesn’t?)

Unfortunately, Thanksgiving came to an end, although the fun didn’t stop there.

Since all the family was still in town for Thanksgiving weekend, you and Andy did the same, staying at your parents’ house. 

The two of you were snuggled into the full bed you had from childhood. 

That bed seemed a lot bigger when you were a kid.

But now, you had a personal furnace resting beside you. 

“Andy, honey, are you awake?”

“hmm?”

Taking the covers with him, Andy rolled over onto his back, slowly smiling as you were leaned over him, a grin on your own face.

“Well, good morning to you too Mrs. Barber.”

You wiped the mischievous smirk off his lips with a kiss.

“Just wanted to remind you that we are all meeting for breakfast in an hour and a half.”

Andy nodded and you slid out of bed. Walking to the dresser, you opened your’s and Andy’s suitcase, pulling out jeans and a grey sweater. 

First you got your shower, Andy then coming in to get his.

About an hour later, the two of you walked downstairs to be met with your parents holding mugs of coffee for you both.

Your parents love Andy like their own son. 

And for the many years you’ve been married, Andy too thinks of them as his own.

Honestly, you feel bad that your husband has no family or parents, so it really warms your heart to see him bonding with yours. 

The four of you enjoyed a few cups of coffee, just to kill some time before going to meet the rest of the family. 

Everyone had their own plans for the day, so you and Andy trailed behind in your own car.

Needless to say, breakfast was quite entertaining.

From your nieces and nephews, to many childhood memories, many laughs were shared around the table. 

Once breakfast was over, everyone bid goodbye and went their separate ways, tomorrow you’d see them all once again.

Luckily, you still knew your hometown like the back of your hand. It was really nice to leave the small town of Newton. 

You and Andy decided to hit up a nearby outlet mall, just for kicks and giggles. 

The two of you didn’t really have a plan per se. Sure, you had a few items you wished to pick up, but it wasn’t dire. You were just here to spend time with Andy. 

Every year, it was a constant battle to get Andy to spill the beans about what he wanted. He never told you and boy, was that irritating.

“Andrew Stephen Barber if you don’t tell me, for the love of God, I will divorce your ass.”

Andy knew you were joking, but he also knew that you were determined to get it out of him.

“Fine. I’ll tell you, only if you tell me what you want, ya hypocrite!”

In playful annoyance, you let out a sigh and agreed. 

To seal the deal, you put out your hand in a good ole fashion, “shake on it.”

Your husband shook your hand, but before you could pull it away, he pressed his lips to your knuckles. 

This time, your quip was silenced and Andy wore a smirk of victory on his lips.

So finally, the argument settled, the two of you exited the car. 

As you walked towards the outlet mall, Andy’s hand rested on the small of your back, a sweet gesture that you secretly loved. 

The first stop was a jewelry store, which carried Citizen Watches.

Andy had finally given in. He explained to you that his watch had broken and there was no fixing. 

At this you were delighted, not because the watch broke, but because you finally found a gift.

So, you paraded Andy around the store till he unwillingly picked once. You had to push him a bit. Curse his humbleness.

You gleefully walked out of the store, the watch peacefully resting in a neatly wrapped box, ready to be tucked away till December 25th.

This was gonna be the year you had gotten Andy the perfect gift...

“Everything is taken care of, I guess we should head to dinner then!”

Your poor attempt at deflecting Andy’s attention didn’t work, as he turned to look at you quizzically.

“Not yet Missy. I am going to get that purse you wanted.”

“Me a purse? I never said that…”

Andy, not phased at your feigned innocence, started to lightly tickle your waist with the hand that once rested on your back.

“Andy, stop! I’m gonna laugh and we are in the middle of foot traffic!”

“Nope. Not till you tell me which purse you wanted and be exact this time!”

“Fine! Fine! Follow me before I get any more weird looks.”

Your husband started laughing, slightly jogging to catch up with you, as you had power walked away from the embarrassment. 

The two of you were never ones to buy extravagant things, unless necessary.

As you see, Andy only let you buy him a watch because the one he’s had for ten years broke, and vice versa with your purse.

Upon walking into the purse store, the strong smell of leather flooded your senses, the variety of styles and colors blurring your vision.

It only took ten minutes for you to find the purse, and it made Andy uncontrollably happy to see your childlike giddiness.

As you walked out of the store, Andy’s watch bag dangled on your wrist, your own gift resting in the clutch of the man’s hand. Of course, your two free hands were interlocked while you both walked to the final destination. A nice little dinner at one of the food court restaurants. 

This year you and Andy had both finally succeeded in the gift giving department, definitely making for an interesting competition next year.