#they let him out of his enclosure and he immediately went rogue

[ardenrosegarden]

Brother.

[96harmony96]

Chapter 2

Her tie was silver and her shirt brilliantly white, the stark absence of color emphasizing those amazing green irises. Standing there with her jacket open and her hands shoved casually into her pants’ pockets, the sight of her was like running smack into a wall I hadn’t known was there.

I jerked to a halt, my gaze riveted to the woman who was even more striking than I’d remembered. I had never seen hair that purely black. It was glossy and slightly long, the ends drifting over her shoulder. That sexy length was the crowning touch of bad boy hotness over the successful businessman, like whipped cream topping on a hot fudge brownie sundae. As my mother would say, only rogues and raiders had hair like that.

My hands clenched against the urge to touch it, to see if it felt like the rich silk it resembled.

The doors began to close. She took an easy step forward and pressed a button on the panel to hold them open. “There’s plenty of room for both of us, Camila.”

The sound of that smoky, implacable voice broke me out of my momentary daze. How did she know my name?

Then I remembered that she’d picked up my ID card when I’d dropped it in the lobby. For a second, I debated telling her I was waiting for someone so I could take another car down, but my brain lurched back into action.

What the hell was wrong with me? Clearly she worked in the Crossfire. I couldn’t avoid her every time I saw her and why should I? If I wanted to get to the point where I could look at her and take her hotness for granted, I needed to see her often enough that she became like furniture.

Ha! If only.

I stepped into the car. “Thank you.”

She released the button and stepped back again. The doors closed and the elevator began its descent.

I immediately regretted my decision to share the car with her.

Awareness of her prickled across my skin. She was a potent force in such a small enclosure, radiating a palpable energy and sexual magnetism that had me shifting restlessly on my feet. My breathing became as ragged as my heartbeat. I felt that inexplicable pull to her again, as if he exuded a silent demand that I was instinctively attuned to answering.

“Enjoy your first day?” she asked, startling me.

Her voice resonated, flowing over me in a seductive rhythm. How the hell did she know it was my first day?

“Yes, actually,” I answered evenly. “How was yours?”

I felt her gaze slide over my profile, but I kept my attention trained on the brushed aluminum elevator doors. My heart was racing in my chest, my stomach quivering madly. I felt jumbled and off my game.

“Well, it wasn’t my first,” she replied with a hint of amusement. “But it was successful. And getting better as it progresses.”

I nodded and managed a smile, having no idea what that was supposed to mean. The car slowed on the twelfth floor and a friendly group of three got on, talking excitedly among themselves. I stepped back to make room for them, retreating into the opposite corner of the elevator from Dark and Dangerous. Except she sidestepped along with me. We were suddenly closer than we’d been before.

she adjusted her perfectly knotted tie, her arm brushing against mine as she did so. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to ignore my acute awareness of her by concentrating on the conversation taking place in front of us. It was impossible. She was just so there. Right there. All perfect and gorgeous and smelling divine. My thoughts ran away from me, fantasizing about how hard her body might be beneath the suit, how it might feel against me, how well-endowed—or not—she might be…

When the car reached the lobby, I almost moaned in relief. I waited impatiently as the elevator emptied and the first chance I got, I took a step forward. Her hand settled firmly at the small of my back and she walked out beside me, steering me. The sensation of her touch on such a vulnerable place rippled through me.

We reached the turnstiles and her hand fell away, leaving me feeling oddly bereft. I glanced at her, trying to read her, but although she was looking at me, her face gave nothing away.

“Camila!”

The sight of Cary lounging casually against a marble column in the lobby shifted everything. He was wearing jeans that showcased his mile-long legs and an oversized sweater in soft green that emphasized his eyes. He easily drew the attention of everyone in the lobby. I slowed as I approached him and the sex god passed us, moving through the revolving door and sliding fluidly into the back of the chauffeured black Bentley SUV I’d seen at the curb the evening before.

Cary whistled as the car pulled away. “Well, well. From the way you were looking at her, that was the girl you told me about, right?”

“Oh, yeah. That was definitely her.”

“You work together?” Linking arms with me, Cary tugged me out to the street through the stationary door.

“No.” I stopped on the sidewalk to change into my walking flats, leaning into him as pedestrians flowed around us. “I don’t know who she is, but she asked me if I’d had a good first day, so I better figure it out.”

“Well…” He grinned and supported my elbow as I hopped awkwardly from one foot to the other. “No idea how anyone could get any work done around her. My brain sort of fried for a minute.”

“I’m sure that’s a universal effect.” I straightened. “Let’s go. I need a drink.”

The next morning arrived with a slight throbbing at the back of my skull that mocked me for having one too many glasses of wine. Still, as I rode the elevator up to the twentieth floor, I didn’t regret the hangover as much as I should have. My choices were either too much alcohol or a whirl with my vibrator, and I was damned if I’d have a battery-provided orgasm starring Dark and Dangerous. Not that she’d know or even care that she made me so horny I couldn’t see straight, but I’d know and I didn’t want to give the fantasy of her the satisfaction.

I dropped my stuff in the bottom drawer of my desk and when I saw that Mark wasn’t in yet, I grabbed a cup of coffee and returned to my cubicle to catch up on my new favorite ad-biz blogs.

“Camila!”

I jumped when he appeared beside me, his grin a flash of white against his smooth dark skin. “Good morning, Mark.”

“Is it ever. You’re my lucky charm, I think. Come into my office. Bring your tablet. Can you work late tonight?”

I followed him over, catching on to his excitement. “Sure.”

“I’d hoped you’d say that.” He sank into his chair.

I took the one I’d sat in the day before and quickly opened a notepad program.

“So,” he began, “we’ve received an RFP for Kingsman Vodka and they mentioned me by name. First time that’s ever happened.”

“Congratulations!”

“I appreciate that, but let’s save them for when we’ve actually landed the account. We’ll still have to bid, if we get past the request for proposal stage, and they want to meet with me tomorrow evening.”

“Wow. Is that timeline usual?”

“No. Usually they’d wait until we had the RFP finished before meeting with us, but Cross Industries recently acquired Kingsman and C.I. has dozens of subsidiaries. That’s good business if we can get it. They know it and they’re making us jump through hoops, the first of which is meeting with me.”

“Usually there would be a team, right?”

“Yes, we’d present as a group. But they’re familiar with the drill—they know they’ll get the pitch from a senior executive, then end up working with a junior like me—so they picked me out and now they want to vet me. But to be fair, the RFP provides a lot more information than it asks for in return. It’s as good as a brief, so I really can’t accuse them of being unreasonably demanding, just meticulous. Par for the course when dealing with Cross Industries.”

He ran a hand over his tight curls, betraying the pressure he felt. “What do you think of Kingsman vodka?”

“Uh…well…Honestly, I’ve never heard of it.”

Mark fell back in his chair and laughed. “Thank God. I thought I was the only one. Well, the plus side is there’s no bad press to get over. No news can be good news.”

“What can I do to help? Besides research vodka and stay late?”

His lips pursed a moment as he thought about it. “Jot this down…”

We worked straight through lunch and long after the office had emptied, going over some initial data from the strategists. It was a little after seven when Mark’s smartphone rang, startling me with its abrupt intrusion into the quiet.

Mark activated the speaker and kept working. “Hey, baby.”

“Have you fed that poor girl yet?” demanded a warm masculine voice over the line.

Glancing at me through his glass office wall, Mark said, “Ah…I forgot.”

I looked away quickly, biting my lower lip to hide my smile.

I looked away quickly, biting my lower lip to hide my smile.

A snort came clearly across the line. “Only two days on the job, and you’re already overworking her and starving her to death. She’s going to quit.”

“Shit. You’re right. Steve, honey—”

“Don’t ‘Steve honey’ me. Does she like Chinese?”

I gave Mark the thumbs-up.

He grinned. “Yes, she does.”

“All right. I’ll be there in twenty. Let security know I’m coming.”

Almost exactly twenty minutes later, I buzzed Steven Ellison through the waiting area doors. He was a juggernaut of a fellow, dressed in dark jeans, scuffed work boots, and a neatly pressed button-down shirt. Red-haired with laughing blue eyes, he was as good-looking as his partner was, just in a very different way. The three of us sat around Mark’s desk and dumped kung pao chicken and broccoli beef onto paper plates, added helpings of sticky white rice, and then dug in with chopsticks.

I discovered that Steven was a contractor, and that he and Mark had been a couple since college. I watched them interact and felt awe and a dash of envy. Their relationship was so beautifully functional that it was a joy to spend time with them.

“Damn, girl,” Steven said with a whistle, as I went for a third helping. “You can put it away. Where does it go?”

I shrugged. “To the gym with me. Maybe that helps…?”

“Don’t mind him,” Mark said, grinning. “Steven’s just jealous. He has to watch his girlish figure.”

“Hell.” Steven shot his partner a wry look. “I might have to take her out to lunch with the crew. I could win money betting on how much she can eat.”

I smiled. “That could be fun.”

“Ha. I knew you had a bit of a wild streak. It’s in your smile.”

Looking down at my food, I refused to let my mind wander into memories of just how wild I’d been in my rebellious, self-destructive phase.

Mark saved me. “Don’t harass my assistant. And what do you know about wild women anyway?”

“I know some of them like hanging out with gay men. They like our perspective.” His grin flashed. “I know a few other things, too. Hey…don’t look so shocked, you two. I wanted to see if hetero sex lived up to the hype.”

Clearly this was news to Mark, but from the twitching of his lips, he was secure enough in their relationship to find the whole exchange amusing. “Oh?”

“How’d that work out for you?” I asked bravely.

Steven shrugged. “I don’t want to say it’s overrated, ’cause clearly I’m the wrong demographic and I had a very limited sampling, but I can do without.”

I thought it was very telling that Steven could relate his story in terms Mark worked with. They shared their careers with each other and listened, even though their chosen fields were miles apart.

“Considering your present living arrangement,” Mark said to him, catching up a stem of broccoli with his chopsticks, “I’d say that’s a very good thing.”

By the time we finished eating, it was eight and the cleaning crew had arrived. Mark insisted on calling me a cab.

“Should I come in early tomorrow?” I asked.

Steven bumped shoulders with Mark. “You must’ve done something good in a past life to score this one.”

“I think putting up with you in this life qualifies,” Mark said dryly.

“Hey,” Steven protested, “I’m housebroken. I put the toilet seat down.”

Mark shot me an exasperated look that was warm with affection for his partner. “And that’s helpful how?”

Mark and I scrambled all day Thursday to get ready for his four o’clock with the team from Kingsman. We grabbed an information-packed lunch with the two creatives who would be participating in the pitch when it got to that point in the process; then we went over the notes on Kingsman’s Web presence and existing social media outreach.

I got a little nervous when three thirty rolled around because I knew traffic would be a bitch, but Mark kept working after I pointed out the time. It was quarter to four before he bounded out of his office with a broad smile, still shrugging into his jacket. “Join me, Camila.”

I blinked up at him from my desk. “Really?”

“Hey, you worked hard on helping me prep. Don't you want to see how it goes?”

“Yes, absolutely.” I pushed to my feet. Knowing my appearance would be a reflection on my boss, I smoothed my black pencil skirt and straightened the cuffs of my long-sleeved silk blouse. By a random twist of fate, my crimson shirt perfectly matched Mark’s tie. “Thank you.”

We headed out to the elevators and I was briefly startled when the car went up instead of down. When we reached the top floor, the waiting area we stepped into was considerably larger and more ornate than the one on the twentieth. Hanging baskets of ferns and lilies fragranced the air and a smoky glass security entrance was sandblasted with Cross Industries in a bold, masculine font.

We were buzzed in, and then asked to wait a moment. Both of us declined an offer of water or coffee, and less than five minutes after we arrived, we were directed to a closed conference room.

Mark looked at me with twinkling eyes as the receptionist reached for the door handle. “Ready?”

I smiled. “Ready.”

The door opened and I gestured in first. I made sure to smile brightly as I stepped inside…a smile that froze on my face at the sight of the woman rising to her feet at my entrance.

My abrupt stop bottlenecked the threshold and Mark ran into my back, sending me stumbling forward. Dark and Dangerous caught me by the waist, hauling me off my feet and directly into her chest. The air left my lungs in a rush, followed immediately by every bit of common sense I possessed. Even through the layers of clothing between us, her biceps were like stone beneath my palms, her stomach a hard slab of muscle against my own. When she sucked in a sharp breath, my nipples tightened, stimulated by the expansion of her chest.

Oh no. I was cursed. A rapid-fire series of images flashed through my mind, showcasing a thousand ways I could stumble, fall, trip, skid, or crash in front of the sex god over the days, weeks, and months ahead.

“Hello again,” she murmured, the vibration of her voice making me ache all over. “Always a pleasure running into you, Camila.”

I flushed with embarrassment and desire, unable to find the will to push away despite the two other people in the room with her. It didn’t help that her attention was solely on me, her hard body radiating that arresting impression of powerful demand.

“Miss, Jauregui,” Mark said behind me. “Sorry about the entrance.”

“Don’t be. It was a memorable one.”

I wobbled on my stilettos when Jauregui set me down, my knees weakened from the full body contact. She was dressed in black again, with both her shirt and tie in a soft gray. As always, she looked too good.

What would it be like to be that amazing looking? There was no way she could go anywhere without causing a disturbance.

Reaching out, Mark steadied me and eased me back gently.

Jauregis' gaze stayed focused on Mark’s hand at my elbow until I was released.

“Right. Okay then.” Mark pulled himself together. “This is my assistant,

Camila Cabello.”

“We’ve met.” Jauregui pulled out the chair next to hers. “Camila.”

I looked to Mark for guidance, still recovering from the moments I’d spent plastered against the sexual superconductor in Fioravante.

Jauregui leaned closer and ordered quietly, “Sit, Camila.”

Mark gave a brief nod, but I was already lowering into the chair at Jauregui’s command, my body obeying instinctively before my mind caught up and objected.

I tried not to fidget for the next hour as Mark was grilled by Jauergui and the two Kingsman directors, both of whom were attractive brunettes in elegant pantsuits. The one in raspberry was especially enthusiastic about garnering Jauregui’s attention, while the one in cream focused intently on my boss. All three seemed impressed by Mark’s ability to articulate how the agency’s work—and his facilitation of it with the client—created provable value for the client’s brand.

I admired how cool Mark remained under pressure—pressure exerted by Jauregui, who easily dominated the meeting.

“Well done, Mr. Garrity,” Jauregui praised lightly as they wrapped things up. “I look forward to going over the RFP when the time comes. What would entice you to try Kingsman, Camila?”

Startled, I blinked. “Excuse me?”

The intensity of her gaze was searing. It felt as if her entire focus was on me, which only reinforced my respect for Mark, who’d had to work under the weight of that stare for an hour.

Jauregui’s chair was set perpendicular to the length of the table, facing me head-on. Her right arm rested on the smooth wooden surface, her long elegant fingers stroking rhythmically along the top. I caught a glimpse of her wrist at the end of her cuff and for some crazy reason the sight of that small expanse of golden skin with its light dusting of dark hair made my clit throb for attention. she was just so…womanly.

“Which of Mark’s suggested concepts do you prefer?” she asked again.

“I think they’re all brilliant.”

Her beautiful face was impassive when she said, “I’ll clear the room to get your honest opinion, if that’s what it takes.”

My fingers curled around the ends of my chair’s armrests. “I just gave you my honest opinion, Miss. Jauregui, but if you must know, I think sexy luxury on a budget will appeal to the largest demographic. But I lack—”

“I agree.” Jauregui stood and buttoned her jacket. “You have a direction, Mr. Garrity. We’ll revisit next week.”

I sat for a moment, stunned by the breakneck pace of events. Then I looked at Mark, who seemed to be wavering between astonished joy and bewilderment.

Rising to my feet, I led the way to the door. I was hyperaware of Jauregui walking beside me. The way she moved, with animal grace and arrogant economy, was a major turn-on. I couldn’t imagine her not fucking well and being aggressive about it, taking what she wanted in a way that made a woman wild to give it to her.

Jauregui stayed with me all the way to the bank of elevators. She said a few things to Mark about sports, I think, but I was too focused on the way I was reacting to her to care about the small talk. When the car arrived, I breathed a sigh of relief and hastily stepped forward with Mark.

“A moment, Camila,” Jauergui said smoothly, holding me back with a hand at my elbow. “She’ll be right down,” she told Mark, as the elevator doors closed on my boss’s astonished face.

Jauregui said nothing until the car was on its way down; then she pushed the call button again and asked, “Are you sleeping with anyone?”

The question was asked so casually it took a second to process what she’d said.

I inhaled sharply. “Why is that any business of yours?”

She looked at me and I saw what I’d seen the first time we’d met—tremendous power and steely control. Both of which had me taking an involuntary step back. Again. At least I didn’t fall this time; I was making progress.

“Because I want to fuck you, Camila. I need to know what’s standing in my way, if anything.”

The sudden ache between my thighs had me reaching for the wall to maintain my balance. She reached out to steady me, but I held her at bay with an uplifted hand. “Maybe I’m just not interested, Miss, Jauregui.”

A ghost of a smile touched her lips and made her impossibly more handsome. Dear God…

The ding that signaled the approaching elevator made me jump, I was strung so tight. I’d never been so aroused. Never been so scorchingly attracted to another human being. Never been so offended by a person I lusted after.

I stepped into the elevator and faced her.

She smiled. “Until next time, Camila.”

The doors closed and I sagged into the brass handrail, trying to regain my bearings. I’d barely pulled myself together when the doors opened and revealed Mark pacing in the waiting area on our floor.

“Jesus, Camila,” Mark muttered, coming to an abrupt halt. “What the hell was that?”

“I have no freakin’ clue.” I exhaled in a rush, wishing I could share the confusing, irritating exchange I’d had with Jauregui, but well aware that my boss wasn’t the appropriate outlet. “Who cares? You know she’s going to give you the account.”

A grin chased away his frown. “I’m thinking she might.”

“As my roommate always says, you should celebrate. Should I make dinner reservations for you and Steven?”

“Why not? Pure Food and Wine at seven, if they can squeeze us in. If not, surprise us.”

We’d barely returned to Mark’s office when he was pounced on by the executives—Michael Waters, the CEO and president, and Christine Field and Walter Leaman, the executive chairman and vice chairman.

I skirted the four of them as quietly as possible and slid into my cubicle.

I called Pure Food and Wine and begged for a table for two. After some serious groveling and pleading, the hostess finally caved.

I left a message on Mark’s voice mail, “It’s definitely your lucky day. You’re booked for dinner at seven. Have fun!”

Then I clocked out, eager to get home.

“She said what?” Cary sat on the opposite end of our white sectional sofa and shook his head.

“I know, right?” I enjoyed another sip of my wine. It was a crisp and nicely chilled sauvignon blanc I’d picked up on the walk home. “That was my reaction, too. I’m still not sure I didn’t hallucinate the conversation while overdosing on her pheromones.”

“So?”

I tucked my legs beneath me on the couch and leaned into the corner. “So what?”

“You know what, Camila.” Grabbing his netbook off the coffee table, Cary propped it on his crossed legs. “Are you going to tap that or what?”

“I don’t even know her. I don’t even know her first name and she threw that curveball at me.”

“She knew yours.” He started typing on his keyboard. “And what about the thing with the vodka? Asking for your boss in particular?”

The hand I was running through my loose hair stilled. “Mark is very talented. If Jauregui has any sort of business sense at all, she’d pick up on that and exploit it.”

“I’d say she knows business.” Cary spun his netbook around and showed me the home page of Cross Industries, which boasted an awesome photo of the Crossfire. “That’s her building, Camila. Lauren jauregui owns it.”

Damn it. My eyes closed. Lauren Jauregui. I thought the name suited her. It was as sexy and elegantly masculine as the woman himself.

“She has people to handle marketing for her subsidiaries. Probably dozens of people to handle it.”

“Stop talking, Cary”

“She’s hot, rich, and wants to jump your bones. What’s the problem?”

I looked at him. “It’s going to be awkward running into her all the time. I’m hoping to hang on to my job for a long while. I really like it. I really like Mark. He’s totally involved me in the process and I’ve learned so much from him already.”

“Remember what Dr. Travis says about calculated risks? When your shrink tells you to take some, you should take some. You can deal with it. You and Jauregui are both adults.” He turned his attention back to his Internet search. “Wow. Did you know she doesn’t turn thirty for another two years? Think of the stamina.”

“Think of the rudeness. I’m offended by how she just threw it out there. I hate feeling like a vagina with legs.”

Cary paused and looked up at me, his eyes softening with sympathy. “I’m sorry, baby girl. You’re so strong, so much stronger than I am. I just don’t see you carrying around the baggage I do.”

“I don’t think I am, most of the time.” I looked away because I didn’t want to talk about what we’d been through in our pasts. “It’s not like I wanted her to ask me out on a date. But there has to be a better way to tell a woman you want to take her to bed.”

“You’re right. She’s an arrogant douche. Let her lust after you until she has blue balls. Serves her right.”

That made me smile. Cary could always do that. “I doubt that woman has ever had blue balls in her life, but it’s a fun fantasy.”

He shut his netbook with a decisive snap. “What should we do tonight?”

“I was thinking I’d like to go check out that Krav Maga studio in Brooklyn.” I’d done a little research after meeting Parker Smith during my workout at Equinox and as the week passed, the thought of having that kind of raw, physical outlet for stress seemed more and more ideal.

I knew it wouldn’t be anything close to banging the hell outta ofLauren jauregui, but I suspected it would be a lot less dangerous to my health.

[reneejuliet]

Ignorance is Bliss: Meet Hobi

Ignorance is Bliss: Teaser Meet Hobi

Author: reneejuliet

Pairing: Primary Jungkook x Reader, side of Namjoon x Reader, and hinted Yoongi x Reader

Rating: M (18+ to be safe)

Author’s Note: Hiiiiii. It’s taking me a lot longer than I had hoped to get this story up. Between my own health and family issues, and this crazy pandemic we are living through right now, there’s just been too many hurdles to allow me any sort of time frame or game plan for this. And, given the length (I’m already at 40k and still haven’t even gotten to Yoongi yet, let alone Jungkook), I’ve debated making it a series. Or, at the very least, a 2-3 parter. So if you have any input, please feel free to share. 

Anyway! While I work on this around my actual job schedule (yeah, I’m essential and no, I can’t work remote), I think I’m going to offer up a few teasers. Namjoon is already in the picture, and I am almost to Yoongi - like a scene or two away - but Jungkook is literally always in the picture once he’s in so, he hasn’t appeared just yet in the WIP. Until then: Here’s Hobi!

Below are some spoilers, but. Nothing that I think ruins the story. What’s mentioned happens fairly early in the story anyway so oh well.

When you came to, you were swallowed in darkness. The overwhelming scent of cold, hard earth washed over you and you inhaled deeply. The air was stagnant. Though the chill was as present as it always was, it was not so freezing as to burn. You were instantly reminded of the tunnel beneath your home.

Underground.

Attempting to move was easier said than done. Your entire body was heavy, as if weighted down to the ground. There were no restraints on you, no press of rope against your skin. You simply felt… sluggish. Slow. Unmotivated.

That’s when the anger bubbled in your chest. You recognized this feeling, despite how long it had been. Your teeth gnashed together and you summoned all your strength to roll over onto your hands and knees, struggling not to buckle under your weight.

“You used Bliss on me?”

Now facing a new direction, you were able to see a soft red glare flickering a few feet away from where you hovered. A flare. Blinking back the blurriness still clinging to your eyes, you gave a great shake of your head. All your thoughts tilted to one side, but things were beginning to clear up. At least a little.

Your kidnapper rocked forward onto his feet, flare clutched in one hand as he approached you cautiously. His heart-shaped lips were pursed into a pout, as if unsure how he should approach you. Good, you think. Let him worry. Because right now, you are incredibly furious with him.

Kidnapping, you could forgive. Maybe. But Bliss?

You knew the sensation not by choice. When you were younger, your father had exposed you to it under the guise of familiarizing yourself with what you fought against. Your Deviant design, he explained, would rush it from your system before the addiction could take root. He had been right, of course. That did not excuse the risk he had taken that day.

Still, as you perched on your hands and knees rather feebly, you couldn’t help but compare the experiences. When your father had exposed you to Bliss, it had lasted an hour, maybe two. Judging by your current location in comparison to the one you had left, you had been out for much longer. Because you were undoubtedly underground, and judging by the ripe, dormant air, you were down deep.

Finally, your kidnapper shifted forward, approaching you warily. He didn’t draw too close, stopping a few paces away and dropping to sit cross-legged before you. His curls are messy across his forehead, which is wrinkled in examination of you. The flare sets in his lap now, light flickering weakly to illuminate his face. It does not reach his eyes, and in the shadows, his eyes are dark. He does not look unkind.

Inhaling a deep breath, you shoved your weight off of your hands until you were rocked back on your heels. You swayed for a moment, and he almost reached out as if to steady you, pausing just shy of your arm. His fingers fell lamely back to his side, and he offered you a hesitant smile instead.

“Where are we?” is what you asked first, tongue rolling around in your mouth to dispel the lingering dryness. There is an edge to your voice, but can you be blamed? You were drugged and abducted only to wake up somewhere dank below the surface.

His hand lifted toward the roof of your enclosure. In the pale light, you can just see how it stretched out into nothingness on both ends. He pointed one finger up, before swooping it to point down.

“Yes, I know that we’re below ground. But where?”

He folded his hand so only his index finger and thumb were extended into an ‘L’ shape. Frustration brewed in your stomach, and you rubbed roughly at your forehead. “What, is that supposed to mean Breaker Lima?”

He nodded, face breaking out into a surprised smile. His dark eyes creased into crescents and it could have been endearing if not for the irritation unfurling within you.

“Why are we in Breaker Lima?”

You asked it more to yourself than to him, but he made as if to answer it anyway. Before he could throw up any more confusing hand gestures, however, your patience snapped.

“Oh for – Can you just speak to me, please?! After everything I have been through today, I am really not in the mood for charades.”

His smile wavered, lips curling down into a pout. They stretched thin as he stared at you, flare flickering in his lap. Though you did not hedge under his gaze, your anger was quick to settle at the look in his eyes. It was a frustration similar to your own, but it was not directed at you.

With a huff, he shook his head. One hand raised to touch his neck over the thick scarf wrapped around it, his lips pulling into a thin line. Dimples appeared at the corner of his mouth, and he looked decidedly better with a smile, you concluded.

“You… can’t speak,” you realized, and he nodded somberly. His fingers fluttered near his neck for a moment, before he took hold of his scarf and unwound it. As the flesh was revealed beneath, you felt your own throat constrict. Down the left side of his neck and about half of the width of it, the skin changed from smooth gold to a puffy, dry red. In the flicker of the flare, it looked angry.

“I… I’m sorry,” you muttered then, smoothing your hands over your thighs to ease the tension from your fingers. He shrugged and began wrapping the scarf back around his neck. At the last flash of the skin before it disappeared behind thick fabric, your hand reached absently for the itch behind your ear. Then your anger prodded you once more.

As his gaze met yours, you did your best to temper that anger. It would do you no good to lose your control however many feet below ground you were, after all. Especially when you still did not have much of a clue as to where you were, and where you were headed. All the same, he noticed the fire in your eyes and paused, brow furrowing in your direction.

“When you knocked me out, did you…” You licked your lips to force the words out. “Did you use Bliss?”

The venom slipped out along the name, and you saw him flinch. Guilt glistened in his eyes as he nodded, but he held out a finger to stay you. Reaching into one of the pockets of his pants, he withdrew a small metal case. It was so old that the metal was worn down to shine at the edges where he gripped, and he held it delicately. He clicked open the lid and turned it to you.

Inside were the thin gauzy patches you recognized as Bliss, only… they looked different. Bliss was sheer, as to remain fairly inconspicuous when applied to the skin. Often times a certain hue might be tinted in to match whatever emotion it contained, but it was subtle. And they were barely the size of a fingernail. These before you were wider, their cut not as clean, and they were a foggy sort of white color. Your eyes moved from the patches to him in surprise.

“You have original Bliss?”

Original meaning that which was manufactured before the days of Cormac Volt. The regulated kind. The safe kind. The ones that did not destroy your life upon application.

He nodded, carefully closing the container and slipping it back into his pocket. Your eyes lingered on him, incredulous. “But… my father said…”

Your voice disappeared at the mention of your father aloud. For a moment, his listless green eyes drifted behind your own. Sensing your distress, the man before you reached out and laid a gentle hand on yours. You shook your head, dispelling the ghost of your father.

“I thought the original was all used up. The formula lost.”

Something wicked played at his lips, the gleam in his eye doing nothing to reassure you. He ticked his finger in front of you, making a strange sort of sound in the back of his throat. Then he pressed said finger to his temple and winked.

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, so you used the safe stuff. Still, you drugged me with Bliss.”

He shrugged his shoulders again, sending you an apologetic look. His hands waved exaggeratedly around his face, and you understood it to refer to your slight loss of control back in ElectriCity. You interrupted his hands with your own, signaling him to stop, and he smirked at you.

“Okay, okay. I get it. I went a little… rogue back there. Sorry. You would too if you had just lost your family.”

The sympathy was back in his eyes and you waved him off again. You did not want to talk about it. Especially because you weren’t convinced Corrie was dead. Your father… there was no denying that. But you had never come across your sister’s body. There was still a chance. Still hope.

Speaking of your sister, you immediately noticed the missing weight from your back. Her backpack was gone. Your eyes shot up to glare at him in response. He seemed to anticipate said reaction, however, because he had already reached behind him to drag forward the bag. You swiped it with eager hands, gripping it in a vice to your chest. The pocket was still hanging open, and you realized the seam had been ripped.

What caught your eye, however, was what lay inside the bag. Buried beneath the extraneous Gear piled within, you noticed the corner of a yellow envelope. Reaching inside, your fingers brushed over it and a chill ran down your spine. You know for a fact this could not have been in Corrie’s backpack when you departed your house. She never carried any papers on supply runs.

His eyes narrowed at the sudden expression on your face, just as the light from his flare began to flicker. Distracted, he reached in his lap for it, turning it and inspecting the charge. He gave it a few shakes, but the red glare continued to fade. Just as his eyes met yours again with a look of disdain, it extinguished altogether.

This was not an issue for you. Being Deviant, with your heightened senses, your eyesight could adjust to the pitch black. It took only a few seconds for his figure to come into clarity once more, albeit in tones of gray. His own eyes lingered on your face, though you doubted he saw you anymore.

At least, you did, until you took notice of his eyes. His pupils dilated in the dark, as was to be expected, but they did not stop. Rather, they continued to fluctuate, expanding and contracting as his eyes struggled to adjust. They never reached the sheer black of your own, but you could tell. He saw something.

“You’re Deviant?”

Your words hung frozen between the two of you, and that was all it took for his gaze to meet your own. His pupils dilated further in interest, a small quirk on his lips. Numbly, you reached into the pocket that contained your own flare, holding it out and activating it. As the light flickered back to life, you watched as the black in his eyes shrunk to a mere speck. A knowing smile lilted his lips, now, and your heart stuttered in its cage. You were overcome with an urge to move, you just weren’t sure it if was closer to or further from him.

“Who are you?” It was soft, barely audible, but you knew he heard it. His free hand extended slowly, palm up as he waited for your own. Hesitantly, you repeated the motion, hovering your free hand over his. Gently, he rotated your hands so it was your palm that laid flat with his fingers curled above. Two of his fingers moved to caress the tender flesh there, one tapping, the other stroking. A spike of surprise coursed through you.

“Hobi?” you said aloud as you translated the language he pressed to you. The smile he rewarded you with sent warmth unfurling through your being. His eyes crinkled with a happiness you did not recognize and he tapped an enthusiastic affirmation into your palm.

Morse. This man – Hobi – was speaking Morse to you, a silent language lost long before The Reckoning and the Dark Days. You only knew it because your father had schooled both you and Corrie in it from a tattered pamphlet he had discovered in your shack. It allowed you all to communicate without words, a necessary secret given what you were hiding.

“How… how do you know Morse?” you stuttered as your newfound awe transformed the very sight of him.

His fingers moved enthusiastically across your palm now, causing sparks to race along your nerves. Friend, he answered.

“What friend?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Show you, he responded with another glowing smile. Follow.

Follow, you did.

Well, there you have him! I hope this might generate some more interest while I work as diligently as I can to complete the story so I can post it. Again, if anyone has any input on how you’d like to see this - as a oneshot (probably looking at 75k+ if so), a multiple parter, or a series - please share! I’m open to ideas.

Also, if you’d like to see any more teasers (i.e. Meet Namjoon, etc), let me know! I’m excited to share this with everyone, so anything I can do to keep interest is on the table! 

Stay safe, and stay sane. <3

[imagine-loki]

Green Creatures: Infinity War Spoilers

TITLE: Green Creatures

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-Shot

AUTHOR: SierraLaufeyson13

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

Imagine that after Infinity War, Thor starts bringing you green animals and asking if it’s his brother. You’ve always been…

RATING: PG

NOTES: None.

About a month had passed since the Battle of Wakanda; since Thanos had decimated half of the universe with a snap of his fingers. Since Thor arrived wielding the axe, Stormbreaker, and revealing that his people had perished, along with his brother, Loki.

Yours and Loki’s time together had been brief, scattered here and there before and after the invasion of New York and what had happened at Greenwich. Though there was something, that even Loki himself couldn’t explain, that allowed you to see through his illusions and lies. Even knowing that, he could not bring himself to stay away.

And know Thor had told you that he was dead. That he had seen the life drain from his brother’s eyes as Thanos lifted him by the neck, that he had heard the sound of bones crunching as the Titan dropped him to the cold metal floor of the Statesman.

Thor didn’t want to believe that his brother was gone, he couldn’t accept it so easily after Loki’s previous ‘deaths,’ and in truth, you didn’t want to accept it either.

The first time Thor brought you a bright green gecko, you almost screamed. It had startled you and confused you. The God of Thunder, however, explained that as children, Loki often transfigured himself into various animals and they were always green in color. He had brought you the gecko in hopes that if the lizard was his brother, you would be able to turn him back.

The gecko wasn’t Loki, neither was the iguana, parrot, chameleon, tree frog, turtle, or butterfly. He had even brought in a handful of different snakes, some more green than others, but none of them was his brother.

Thor hid his disappointment well and remained persistent. You, however, had started to believe the worst, that maybe this time, Loki really was gone. But even with those budding doubts, you couldn’t tell Thor that. He was too joyous whenever he brought in a new creature. Over time though, Thor began bringing you animals less often, and you could see it in his passing expression, that he was beginning to abandon hope too.

One evening, Thor came again with his hands cupped together, but between his fingers, you could make out the coiled up snake. It was a rough green snake, less than a foot long with small patches of black, and a yellowish underbelly.

He placed it on the table. Immediately, the snake slithered toward you, lifting its head, curious. You laid your hand on the table and shuddered as the snake curled around your fingers, appearing to be content. It wasn’t that you could sense Loki or his magic within the reptile but for some reason, you wanted to keep the snake, just to see if anything suspicious happened.

“I think he likes you,” Thor commented, wearing a smile that did not reach his mismatched eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip and turned away, obviously saddened.

You rose from your seat and turned on heel. “Thor, we can keep looking,” you said suddenly and that seemed to surprise him. “I want to find him too.” The God of Thunder took two long strides and pulled you into his arms. You returned the gesture and noticed that the snake in your hands had reached out to him as well.

Not having a proper enclosure for the green snake, you retrieved a large plastic container and found some rogue insects to add to the pitiful habitat. It would have to do for the night. You placed the snake on top of your dresser and glanced it one last time before turning off the bedside lamp. It was coiled up, but its beady black eyes were watching you in an unnerving manner. You shivered as the room went dark.

Half-way through the night, you thought you felt the bed dip with an added weight, but it didn’t startle you enough to be woken.

The morning came too soon. Wisps of light filtered through the sheer winder curtain and pulled blinds, but blocking the usual clear sightline was a sleeping figure. On first instinct, you screamed, backing away until the bed disappeared and you landed on the floor with a loud thud. You clambered back onto the bed and found that the raucous hadn’t even fully awoken your uninvited guest.

His black hair and pale skin should have been a dead giveaway. “Loki?” You glanced between him and the now empty plastic container where you had placed the small snake. One of his green eyes popped open at the mention of his name. “Hello, love,” he greeted, voice just above a rasping whisper. A wide grin broke out across his thin lips.

“How did you hide from me?” You demanded, but he only rolled his eyes with a low chuckle. “Even you don’t know all my secrets,” he answered. Fearful that it may have all been an elaborate illusion, you poke his shoulder, then his chest. “I’m really here, love.”

“Thor said you were dead!” You countered, still in disbelief. Loki didn’t have a response to the accusation, not when he could see the tears that had gathered in your eyes.

The God of Mischief reached out, placing his hand on your cheek, and taking the silence as an opportunity to lean forward. His lips brushed against yours, trembling almost. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Don’t leave me again,” you pleaded, knowing that it was asking the impossible.

Loki continued to stroke your cheek, catching the tear that escaped your eye. “I won’t.” He said in return, leaning forward so that your foreheads rested against one another’s.

The two of you remained like for some time, simply holding each other, pleased to be one another’s presence once again. Though when the two of you parted, you turned and swung your feet off the bed. Loki furrowed his brows. “Where are you going?” he asked.

You turned, looking over your shoulder at him, sprawled out on your bed. “I’ve got to tell your brother!” Thor would be ecstatic to hear the news. “Not yet,” Loki said, reaching for you. His arms slid around your waist. “Let’s stay like this a little longer.”

You sank into him, unable to resist and laid your head on his chest. Listening to the slow, rhythmic beat of his heart. Loki was right, Thor could wait for another hour. After all, the two of you had been separated for far too long.

[moonlightheretic]

It's been a while. This chapter was hard to write. Lately it's been difficult to pull my thoughts together. I normally write scene by scene in no particular order and then string them together later on. Probably not the best way to do it. I hope you enjoy the third installment of the Heretic! In the near distance smoke climbed out of chimneys mixing in with the gray juggernauts adrift in the sky, burdened with rain or snow--I could not tell. Horses and a herd of feet had traveled this path, leading down to the village below. The Inquisition had been here. But there were no banners that occupied the front gate. Perhaps they already deemed this place inconsequential to my capture, considering I could not be located there. If they moved on, then many opportunities lie in those wooden structures and pastures full of hay. There was also a large possibility of a trap, beckoning me with warm houses and food for my horse. The need for comfort was overwhelming, diminishing reason's voice down to an ignorable whisper. I suppose I had let myself become spoiled, living on my mountain castle after all. The barn was distinguished as was its utter abandonment. A widow, outliving previous ownerships, enduring. Sitting alone in a giant pasture next to an imposing lake. There was no impressions left in the patchy snow of feet or livestock. However in the next enclosure there were cattle, it was a low lying fence, clearly not for horses but it would do, for now. It was on the edge of clustered farmsteads and the town bundled farther in. I loosened the mare's bridle to a point at which the bit hung under her muzzle. Now she could eat. I opened the gate and she trotted right to the yellow target in sight, not minding the cows and their wariness. This would be better than the tiny rations I put past her. Upon my investigation of the barn, I found an old pair of leather gloves, darker than midnight and thick as bark. Next to them was enchantment equipment. I stood perplexed, this is no ordinary barn. Sure there were stalls and a loft full of snow, but enchanting too? The structure itself was barely liveable. The chill was indomitable and bled right through the holes in the walls. The ceiling being the worst. It was a wonder in itself that it was still standing. It seemed like all was needed but a gust of wind to knock it over. I decided to keep the gloves. Although oversized, they were warm combined with the thinner gloves I had on. Amazingly the anchor's light could not penetrate through the gruff material. Hiding it, caging it, I was content not to see it. It had been a little over four days since my escape. I thought about Varania, Morigan and Dal'Nim. The replay in my head of everything that went so horribly wrong. With so much silence, it was monstrously loud in my head. Here, there were distractions. Noise to overpower the gnawing grind of worry. I ventured into the town alone, unknowing of what I would find. The village people acted how I expected in a settlement as small as this. It was large enough to have an inn for pilgrims and travelers and a chantry with a few stalls selling goods nearby. Trade was incredibly localized and self circulating. They must all work in harmony somehow. The locals carried on with their daily duties and left me alone. A few stared. Only for the purpose of gawking at an outsider. Not in four years had I experienced the luxury of being anonymous and unassuming until now. Leaving skyhold granted a cloak of incognitum. Without the parade of attendants, soldiers, banners and flashy armor; I was faceless. There was a food stall, it looked to be selling dried fruit and jerky. The primary meal of travelers, dried anything. Odd for a tiny village, especially off season but desperation drove me. "Hello traveler!" He waved me over, already seeing my slight approach. My feet led me to him. "Pardon me, you look like you've traveled far to get here. May I ask where you are from?" I browsed through his crude display, " Free Marches," technically, it was not a lie. "Heading up to Skyhold? Or maybe Orlais? Not often people traverse all the way down here for leisure." I sampled some of the jerky, not particularly worried about his probing questions. Simple conversation was welcome after the solitude I had endured. "I have never left the Free Marches, I thought I would explore Ferelden for a time." That's when I noticed he would not meet my eyes. He didn't dare look above my shoulders. The jerky tasted familiar too. "Is that so? Well I hope you enjoy yourself, though early spring is a bit nasty down here. More like a continuation of winter I say." "I will take all of your jerky and these and those there." I pointed. "We also have a Travelers basket! Would you like to see it?" I nodded. "All you ever need prepacked with a bow on top!" I sampled a second piece. My suspicion was confirmed. He came out from the back and presented it to me. Dried fish, Jerky, dried plums, figs and dates, last were a pouch of mixed nuts. "Are all of these locally sourced?" I pondered out loud. "Of course!" "I'll take this instead." He smiled brightly and I gave him the required coin. I emptied the basket immediately into my pack. I noticed him peering into it. When he saw the lack of space he commented, "We have the most wonderful selections of aged cheese, Inquisitor." He realized his mistake. Wide eyed he stared at me and his lips quivered. "Did that come from Skyhold's stores as well?" I stared back and revealed a sliver of my dagger, just enough to twinkle in the reflection of his straining eyes. "Was it Leliana? Are you hers?" Voice low and guarded but he still heard it. "H-have m-m-mercy." He stuttered. "I won't ask again." My eyes narrowing in on his hazel ones. He nodded. I took off towards the barn and he sunk behind the stand in relief. Was everyone in this town planted here? I had to leave immediately. This time everyone looked, and in their eyes they knew. Out of doors, windows and small alleys they revealed themselves. Following after me slowly, they were in no rush. The cold air stung my lungs like a nest of bees and I coughed as I ran. The pack trembled against by back and my legs were much in the same situation. The barn was insight and I noticed I was being herded right there by the spy's behind me. That's when I halted all movement just a few strides away from the barn. There was a heavy crunching of snow and squishing of mud. The inquisition's army filled out from behind it. 700 foot soldiers and 300 Calvary, among them was Commander Cullen. He stepped out of the shadows casted by the barn. The spy's caught up and finished the circle. I was completely surrounded. Cullen strolled towards me, unafraid. Still too trusting in his former leader to expect hostility. I relaxed my posture and slowed my breathing. He held his hand up when his army followed, still they readied their weapons just in case. All of them wanted a drop of my blood, I could see it in their barely hidden rage. "Inquisitor." He breathed. "Commander." I acknowledged him coldly. "You need to return with me." It was a thinly veiled order. "Cullen, I am disappointed." His face lit up in alarm. "You moved our army without my command." Granted it was only a portion. It could still be considered an act of treason. "I never expected you to turn rogue." It took him a while to gather his thoughts. He sighed heavily and grimaced, making his sleepless nights well defined on his face. "This isn't--enough, you are surrounded. You can't slip out this time!" He rose his voice and the army took one step closer. Cullen lowered his mouth to my ear. "Come with me. Come back to Skyhold." He placed his hand on the gold corded grip of his sword and the other on my shoulder. "Do not make me kill you." It came out gruffly but it was no more than a plead. "This doesn't need to become worse than it already is..." I turned my head to stare into his eyes, "You are correct. It doesn't. Call off the army." It was a command. Old habits caused him to stand straight and accept but he resisted it. He looked crushed, the weight of what had to come next made his shoulders sag. "Be reasonable." He whispered hoarsely. "Stop hesitating." I growled. I was challenging him and he knew it. "I cannot use a Commander who lets emotional burdens stop his blade! See to your duty!" He grabbed me by the forearms, "Bring me the shackles!" A lone soldier darted out with said instrument in hand. It was then I fulfilled something only he and I knew about. I stretched up and stole his dry lips, he froze and so did the shackles boy. An unspoken affection. One last wish. "Inquisi--" I head butted him and he fell backwards on to the lad with the shackles. A war cry was torn out of a soldier's throat and they charged. The chaos began. I back flipped and in mid air delivered a shower of daggers. I hit the ground and into a black cloud pluming in every direction. Their arrows flew into it, but I was already gone. I hurried to any exit but found there was none. I would have to make one. An indecisive Archer stood still with his weapon raised. There was so much confusion that the army started slaying each other, he simply didn't know where to aim. I rushed him and slung a small dagger at his throat. He choked and sent his arrow flying into another archer's horse, sending it to the ground. I pushed him off and at that time my shroud of invisibility had dissipated. I took the horse and kicked it into a full gallop. "After her!" I heard Cullen roar. "Permission to engage!" My hardened heart cracked a little, I knew it was coming, everything so far had been leading up to it. To hear him say it, that they were given authority over my death, brought me to my knees. We neared the frozen lake and despite the horse's protest continued on to it. It was rather hard to distinguish the ice from the surrounding pasture other than a few handfuls of tall weeds by the shore. The ice gave way under it's hooves and an arrow sliced my cheek. I collapsed onto the ice, sliding for a bit, the arrows skidded past me. I scrambled to my feet and another arrow pinned my right leg. I didn't stop. In the center of the reservoir was a fishing hole. Now on foot I didn't stand a chance against the men on horses. I could hear the cracking in the ice as more soldiers and horses boarded it. They weren't thinking anymore, no longer individuals, they became a single functioning wave of wraith. "Halt!" I heard Cullen call out. I didn't dare look back, I could feel their breath on my neck. Their horses screamed as the ice broke underneath, one by one they were going down. They were right behind me. I lurched toward the hole without a plan. "Inquisitor!" His fingertips barely holding on to my pack as I ripped myself from him and plunged into the freezing depths. Arrows followed me into the murky abyss. Spinning with bubbles inches from my head. The chill decreased my rapid strokes. Soon my breath would let out. Frantic, I swam in the direction of what I believed to be the shore. I didn't make it far. Gagging and In a frenzy, I drove my daggers into the ice above, cutting and slashing, grinding my way out. Blackness pricked at my eyes and my mind grew foggy. Up and down, up and down I repeated in my head. Eventually less and less pressure was applied to the ice and my grip faltered as I stabbed at my icy imprisonment. My body stiffened and I could hardly move. 'You must come up for air sometime, Inquisitor. Otherwise you'll drown.' her voice creeped into my head somewhere distant. I drew in gasping breaths of the blackness that was consuming me. 'I knew her. The kitchen server with the chestnut long hair. So long that when braided, it wrapped around her head twice. Now it was splintered and frizzy forming a fuzzy halo snaking around her head. An assortment of bodily fluids puddled at the woman's bound feet, though, no one paid any mind. Her elbows tied back to the arms of the chair, she sat motionless. Dainty fingers resembled talons of the predetory kind. Twisted and skewed at sharp angles; broken in all places. They hung limp from the pain. Hot brands of the label "traitor" singed into her forehead and cheeks. Teeth had been dug out by the roots, caking blood to her lips and chin. Describing her current appearance as haggard would be putting it nicely. Yet her head and neck remained defiant. She met Leliana's cold glare with her own and with an added smirk. This was the kind Elvhen girl who brought me sweet cakes late into night unprompted, when I was still knee deep in analyzing reports just hours before dawn. Her catch phrase always the same, "You must come up for air sometime, Inquisitor. Otherwise you'll drown." Bodies of her comrads either left piled on the floor or lifelessly strung from the dungeon ceiling, deceased from the excessive torture. Faces almost unrecognizable and distorted. She was the last thorn stuck in leliana's side and the most quiet. Much to her withheld frustration. "Your strength will not last you." Leliana circled the withering elf. "Your leader will not save you. Clearly he did not come for the others." I swayed on my feet, noticeably agitated with my arms crossed. Days had gone by and no answers were found. "Be patient Inquisitor, fingers are easy to break but minds can be much harder." Leliana's second in command whispered into my ear. She stopped in front of her and pulled her hair back sharply. "Your silence gains you nothing." Leliana did not need to raise her voice to be frightening. Rather, it was her collected and calm demeanor that was most unnerving. It could rattle the bones of any prisoner caught in her question. "You and that gang whom targeted key members of the Inquisition and that of the Herald herself is an unforgivable treasonous act." "Ah, Sister Nightingale, denial is such an ugly color on you" The servent gave a toothless grin, "You wish so desperately to pull the herald into this...that you imagine one of us holding a knife to her neck to misconstrue the obvious truth? When you know not one of us infiltrated her chambers that night. Not a single strand on her head touched..." "Enough!" "Who Do You Work For?!" 'She raised a shaking hand and pointed a crooked finger at me. My eyes followed her fingernail up her arm and into her steadfast eyes. Her mouth curling at the ends, she aimed her gaze, hurling a silent dialogue at my own , not caring if I understood or not. "Don't you dare look at her." Leliana seethed. Slowly she tilted her head back to leliana and cursed "May the dread wolf take you." Her body convulsed and the chair shook with each thrash. "Shit! Get her still!" The room erupted in chaos. "We need her alive! Keep her conscious damn it!" I could not die this way, not yet! I felt the ice give and pockets of light could now be seen sinking into the frigid water. One more push. With every little crumb of might I had left, I slammed my daggers into the unyielding surface and they broke through. Just before I lost consciousness I was hauled out of the water roughly. "Are you fucking mad?!" Cullen vented. I sputtered and coughed, water seizing the new air in my lungs. It felt like the water in my lungs were freezing all over again from the chilly air. "I will die on my terms." I grunted. "No. You are hereby in my custody, Moon'Hwa." It was the first time he said my name. He held on to me, locked me in his arms as I shivered. I whistled, choppy and unclear but it would have to do. "Don't you dare." He warned. Luckily, I knew the gaps in his armor. A pounding of hooves could be heard in the distance. "Inquisitor!" He screamed into my ear. His pent up stress released into my title. Now he was shaking. He pushed me forward abruptly and I almost face planted into the creaking ice. His horsemen had backed off of the ice, hoping not to lose any more numbers but the footsoldiers stood not 30 steps away. He pulled out his sword and held it to my chin. Struggling to keep it steady, "I will...not hesitate." He whispered, eyes bearing great pain. I lunged for him and my knives met his sword. "You will not stand between me and Fen'Harel." I eyed my horse cantering along the bank and so did he. The sword swung and almost lacerated my neck, making me focus back on him. Tears were crawling down his cheek as I countered another jab. His soldiers were restless, waiting for a command to kill. He pushed his weight into me and I barely held his blade back. With a roar he swung down and I dashed to the right, targeting the gap and slicing my blade right through it. Arrows pelted into my heavy leather duster and I retracted the dagger. He fell to his knee, punching the sword into the ice to balance himself. I ran and did not look back. My horse was trotting uneasily by the shore. The men were charging after me, some falling into thin pockets of the ice and others slipping. I leapt into the saddle and we raced to the cover the surrounding forest provided. I cried out when an arrow tore into the flesh of my forearm. Ducking, I held on to the horse's neck for dear life and we cloaked ourselves behind the trees and boulders. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long.