#this came to me on a walk today after wondering about what happened to river after shooting the doctor and disappearing into the water

[capybaraonabicycle]

Impossible Women

A theory or headcanon or call it a fic if you want - about what happened to the astronaut of Lake Silencio after the deed was done (yes, this is angsty; you were warned in the subtitle)

Halfway back into the lake River realises that the suit is about to shut down. It takes a while to grasp the full meaning of that as she is quite shaken up - having just shot the Doctor who is suddenly also her husband now in an alternative timeline because she broke time and maybe he isn't dead but who knows if that is actually true or she is halluzinating by now and she really needs a long sleep and time to think this all over - but then she realises that a) a shut down suit means her air will run out BUT b) it also means she will be able to move of her own accord again BUT c) the heavy suit will keep her at the bottom of the lake rendered useless and she has to get out asap if she wants to survive.

So she does just that, forces herself out of the suit by pure unbending Pond-Williams-willpower like she did as a child, uses her respiratory bypass to not choke in the meantime and swims up to the surface. She looks back to see whether older-her will shoot at her again but everybody on shore is too busy mourning the Doctor to notice her. She knows it will not stay that way. They will hunt her - whoever 'they' are, be it the Silence, the time agents, or the Judoon - sooner rather than later. She has just killed the Doctor, at least that is what the universe has to believe. She cannot go back to Luna, they would imprison her immediately. She can't go anywhere. And yes, she realises that she probably has to go to prison to completely sell the lie, to save her Doctor. But by hell will she not go willingly. She will run, as far and as fast as she can.

She sets out to swim to shore and start on the running, when out of nowhere a hand appears, almost punching her in the face. It belongs to a young, brunette woman with impossibly large eyes and is reached out as if to help her.

"Grab on" the woman whispers and River does what any confused, sapphic woman would do in this situation: she takes the hand. As soon as she does, the background behind the woman wobbles and twists like a curtain is pulled back and then River can see a diner swimming on the lake, the woman kneeling in the entrance door.

"This will not be huge on dignity" the woman warns, attempting to pull River into the diner.

River, however, has gathered herself enough by now to wave her off and tell her to stay back. Then she heaves herself into the diner - rather gracefully if she says so herself. The other woman seems impressed and River lets her know it'll take more than some kidnapping, manipulating, time breaking and loss of her husband to render her incapable of handling herself and that she feels she is still more than able to defeat the other woman and any of her associates should they have come to take her to prison.

"We're friends of the Doctor's" the woman reassures her. "We know him in the future. I am Clara. Come along, I will introduce you to Ash."

The diner turns out to be a TARDIS and Ash - or Ashildr - turns out to be a rubbish pilot. The Doctor is nowhere to be seen but River understood on entering that this was not their TARDIS, so she didn't really expect him to.

"Where is the Doctor?" she asks once she has taken over from Ashildr and is flying them into the time vortex.

"We don't travel with him anymore" Clara says. She is eyeing River's maneuvers critically but doesn't complain. "But we knew him after his time with you."

"So he does have a future" River murmurs, hoping the two others don't notice her small sigh of relief.

"He does" Clara agrees. "You didn't shoot him back there. Only the teselecta."

River doesn't understand what they want from her then, why they have come for her. When she voices that, Clara smiles brightly.

"We just wanted to offer you a lift" she explains. "And ask you to stay with us. They will be looking for you all over the universe, in all time zones. You just killed the Doctor. Everyone everywhere and everywhen will be hunting for you. If you want to run, a TARDIS might come in handy."

"And nevertheless you want me on your team?" River asks, incredulous. Clara nods vigorously but Ashildr doesn't seem that taken with River. She is very quiet, keeping to the back. It seems like she is going along with this only for Clara's sake.

"As I said, we are friends of the Doctor's" Clara repeats. "And you're his wife. Of course we want to help you out. What do you say?"

River would never pass on the opportunity to travel in her own TARDIS with two badass women and she tells them so. The fact that she has no other place to go, either, hangs between them unspoken.

River enjoys travelling with Clara and Ashildr immediately. She does not like them at first but it is convenient and it is fun and definitely better than rotting away in prison.

She does not like Ashildr because Ashildr doesn't like anyone herself - except for Clara perhaps and she likes to show that. That makes it difficult to get closer to her. River doesn't mind, they can live together just as well without caring for another.

She does not like Clara because that woman is positively insane and annoyingly righteous in spite of it. It takes her about a day to understand that Clara is not the goody two-shoes bubbly princess she tries to present herself as and a few more to understand just how unhinged the woman is. And yet she has that annoying entitlement of a 'good person' complete with the stubborn insistence on telling people River has threatened with a gruesome deaths that River 'didn't mean it that way'. As if you would pronounce death threats to strangers without meaning them.

Clara is a very good kisser, though and River has to admit it is intriguing to see what madness she will come up with next. She assumes the feeling is mutual. They bicker and they fight and they aggressively make out after and about a month in, River is head over heels for her. She assumes that feeling is mutual as well.

What is surprising is how much Clara wants to talk about the Doctor, how often she asks her about him. Not just about their relationship or their time together. Even things as banal as how he performs certain mannerisms or how he takes his tea intrigue her. And she speaks of him solely in the past. It is almost as if she is talking about a fictional being, a mystical creature. As if she didn't know him at all. Sometimes River wonders whether they told her the truth and are really friends with the Doctor or whether this is some kind of weird, pointless charade.

"Do you want to know why she always asks about the Doctor?" Ashildr appears one night in her door, alone, wearing that same, just slightly detached expression she often sports. When River confirms, she leads her away to a room deep in the TARDIS.

It is a study, filled to the brim with manuscripts and paintings and drawings - many of the Doctor. It doesn't look much different to her office at Luna.

"This is her memory" Ashildr answers to River's silent question. "I used to have one, too, myself, at least I think I did. I can't be too certain."

"I don't understand" River admits.

"Clara is well over 200 now" Ashildr explains. "And I don't even know how old I am."

"Well, you're looking good" River tries to lighten the mood but of course it fails.

"Spare me the flirting" Ashildr huffs. "We are immortal but we have human brains. In Clara's case a dead human brain. We can't retain memory forever."

"So she tries to put it all down" River understands, running her hand over a painting of the Doctor. There is another man on the canvas next to him, older, gray curls, impressive eyebrows. She briefly wonders if he was another companion, she thinks she sees him on several of the drawings, too. "Catalogue him, study him. So she won't forget."

"You know why we picked you up that day?" Ashildr asks and River takes the question as silent confirmation. "We went to one of your tutorials for Professor Summerfield's lecture on the Doctor. When Clara found out such a study existed she immediately wanted to go. We snuck in, sat in the back. I think Clara just wanted to test her memory and find out mistakes in your approach. Feel like she still knew him better. Only halfway through she realised who you were."

River raises an eyebrow.

"Of course she knew you" Ashildr explains. "She met you, actually, there is a whole volume on you somewhere on that shelf over there. To be honest she is giving your hair too much credit in it, it is not that impressive."

"Must be in my future" River murmurs. "I don't remember meeting her before. Or you."

"Well, she didn't remember you either, had completely forgotten about you" Ashildr shrugs. "But when we were back in the TARDIS she pulled out that book and then we did some research. Found out the best possibility to pick you out of your time stream. So here we are."

"Clara sneakily employed me as a teacher on the Doctor under the guise of helping me escape?" River summarises with an incredulous laugh. "The audacity!"

"Only it won't work" Ashildr says. "Not in the long run. She can repeat the memories as much as she wants, that just hollows them out. And one day she will realise that she doesn't remember the important part. How exactly his voice sounded, the exact way he smiled. She will have a bunch of cold images and empty data and borrowed stories from you. Without new memories the old ones just fade. Trust me. I know what I am talking about."

River is tempted to say she is sorry but she knows better and bites her tongue.

"And the moment she realises that" Ashildr heaves a sigh and River is surprised by the display of emotion, "she will go back to Gallifrey and reinsert herself into her timeline. Clara will not risk forgetting the Doctor competely - she has fought too hard and she is too stubborn and she loves him too much to let that happen."

She looks onto the canvas with the grey haired man, her mouth a bitter line. "The universe gave me someone I could bear eternity with and she won't stay with me."

"I know this doesn't sounds very helpful right now" River starts slowly. "But I do know another immortal. His name is Jack -"

"- Harkness, I know" Ashildr chuckles. "You cross him eventually when you live through all of human history. I think we spent some time together, too, I can't quite remember. I guess we didn't work out finally or maybe he wasn't that immortal after all. He didn't make it until the end of the universe with Me at least. Don't know whether I want to repeat that."

"I have got a plan, though. For when Clara goes back to the trap street" Ashildr says after a while. "I am not immortal, not really. I could be killed."

River cocks her head. "Are you asking me to kill you?"

"Would you do it?"

River tries to put as much warmth into the words and her smile as she can. "Of course."

"Good." Ashildr looks around the room. "I should get you away from here, now."

"I suppose, I can't read any of this" River says reluctantly. It is tempting, to see for herself in the memories of another woman that the Doctor really is okay, that he lives on. But she knows she mustn't. Spoilers.

"It was inevitable from the beginning" Ashildr says in the hallway. "Clara and Me. How we would end up. And I knew that. But I am glad we did it. The travelling. The running. Going the long way round. And I am glad we picked you up. Kind of like one last pit stop on the way."

It should offend River to be described that way but she can't bring herself to mind. Maybe Ashildr is right. Maybe there is a time to stop running, to stop resisting, after all. Even for herself. Maybe not just yet, but eventually.

There is a prison cell waiting for her.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

LEGACY ~ 13

LEGACY MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,445ish

Summary: Tony keeps pushing you away. Steve makes sure he is there for you.

Notes: Please let me know your thoughts!

Steve had been notified by FRIDAY that you had arrived at the Tower safely, but you never called him like you promised. He was trying to go about the rest of his day like it didn’t bother him, but he wasn’t covering his emotions like he thought he would.

“What’s up with Steve?” Sam asked Natasha as they watched him destroy another punching bag.

“I have one guess, Y/N,” she responded.

“Y/N?”

“You are truly oblivious, Wilson.” Natasha walked up to Steve. “Let me guess, she didn’t call?” Steve ignored, continuing to punch the bag. “She landed safely. She probably got busy with work or Tony and it just slipped her mind. Why don’t you just call her?”

“I’m trying to focus here, Romanoff,” Steve grumbled.

“No, what you’re doing is costing Stark more money. How many punching bags have you gone through today?”

“She’s had all day to call… maybe I… Nevermind.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “You’re not doing a great job hiding your feelings, Steve.”

“I–”

“Excuse me,” FRIDAY interrupted, “but there’s a quinjet on approach.”

“Who’s in it FRIDAY?” Natasha wondered.

“Miss Stark.”

Steve was the first one out of the training room, rushing to where the quinjets landed. Natasha and Sam weren’t too far behind. When they arrived, the ramp was down already. 

“Her bags are in here,” Natasha stated as she walked up the ramp. “But Y/N isn’t.”

“Miss Stark said that she’d be back for the bags,” FRIDAY said. “She said she needed a walk.”

“Which way did she go?” Steve asked.

“She’s heading towards the river.”

“I’ll go get her.” Steve jogged off.

“Okay, you’re right, Romanoff,” Sam said. “I was oblivious because he is incredibly obvious.”

~~~

After all day working, you decided that you couldn’t be at the Tower anymore. You didn’t feel like you were wanted there anyway. So you repacked your bags and headed back to the Compound. Upon arrival, you decided that you needed a walk and headed towards the river. You needed to clear your head and hoped that the fresh air would do it. You had almost made it to the river when you heard footsteps quickly coming up from behind you. 

Hiding behind a tree, you waited until the footsteps were closer. You jumped out and onto the back of whoever was there. You forced the person to the ground, pinning them there.

“Y/N,” Steve groaned, face in the dirt.

“Oh my gosh! Steve!” You exclaimed, hurrying off of Steve. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know who was coming.”

Steve pushed himself to sit up, coughing slightly. “I guess I now have proof that training has helped you.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve. I didn’t know who was coming and I was caught up in my thoughts.”

“You’re alright, Y/N.” He stood up, brushing off the dirt. “Look,” he put his arms out wide for you to see him, “I’m fine.” You nodded, looking away. Steve took a step closer to you. “What’s going on, Y/N? Did something happen?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to walk.”

“Okay, then I’ll walk with you.”

The two of you begin to walk towards the river again. You were both silent until you reached the river, walking onto the pier and sitting on the edge of it.

“At least tell me if you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

“Then why did you come back today?”

You sighed, looking down at the water. “I don’t feel welcome at the Tower anymore…” Tears began to fill your eyes. “And I hate it. I feel like I’m losing my home again. I lost the Mansion, I’m losing the Tower… I know that I can move in here, but it’s not the same… I feel like I’m losing my family. I know it’s dramatic but it’s how I feel…”

Steve’s arm came around you and pulled you into his side. “You have a home here, Y/N/N. You have a family here.” He kissed your head. “I won’t leave you. I promise.”

~~~

The next few days, Steve insisted on keeping you on a routine. He claimed that it would help you. At the crack of dawn, he would wake you up to run with him and Sam. You’d have breakfast with them before cleaning yourself up and heading to your office to do work and school. Steve would bring you lunch and the two of you would eat it at the end of the pier. Then, Steve would escort back to work before dinner. Dinner was everyone in the Compound together: you, Steve, Natasha, Sam, Wanda, and Vision. It was nice and full of laughter. After dinner, the group would go to the training rooms and train all together. It felt great, having some sort of normalcy, whatever that meant in your life. 

Your birthday came and Steve thought you could use a day off. He didn’t wake you so when you finally woke up around nine am, you were surprised. When you made your way out to the common room, Wanda was in the kitchen cooking.

“Morning, Y/N,” she greeted. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks, Wanda,” you responded. “Where is everyone?”

“Steve has them all running errands and doing chores before your party tonight. Don’t be surprised if you don’t see anyone much until then.”

“I really don’t need a party.”

“Good luck convincing Steve of that.”

“I’m guessing I have the whole day off?”

“You would be correct, Miss Stark,” FRIDAY stated. “And Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY. I’m going to go lay by the river and maybe go for a swim.”

“I would join you,” Wanda said, “but Steve has me cooking for the party tonight.”

“Good luck and I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

~~~

You didn’t run into the Team anymore throughout the day, which didn’t surprise you. You did get messages from them wishing you happy birthday as well as from Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy. The only person you wanted to hear from though was the only person you hadn’t. You tried not to let the fact that Tony hadn’t contacted you get you down as you got ready for the party. You didn’t know who would all be there, but you honestly didn’t care. You were just grateful to have people in your life who loved you.

When you arrived at the common room, it had been decorated with your favorite colors in balloons and streamers. There was a large poster hanging in front of the windows, wishing you a happy birthday. You immediately looked around to see who was all there. Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Vision were sitting on the couches, chatting away. Pepper was pouring punch in some cups while Wanda was cutting cake onto plates beside her. Rhodey and Happy were sitting across from the woman at the bar, all in a conversation. You scanned your eyes around the room to make sure you didn’t miss your father, but your eyes hadn’t deceived you. Tony wasn’t there.

“There she is!” Steve announced loudly. He stood up and made his way over. “Happy birthday Y/N.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you replied as the two of you hugged. “You really didn’t have to do all this.”

He pulled away. “Yes I did.” He noticed how your eyes keep flitting around the room. “He’s probably just running late. FRIDAY confirmed he received the invitation.”

“I hope you’re right.”

You walked around and gave everyone hugs and thanked them for the birthday wishes. Pepper ended up being last. She quickly put her arms around you and squeezed you tightly.

“Happy birthday,” she said. When she pulled back, she left her hands on your arms. “You’re growing up to be an amazing woman.”

“Thanks, Pep.”

“He’ll show up.” She already knew where your thoughts were. “You know how he likes to make an entrance.”

“Are you sure? Dad’s been ignoring me lately.”

Her arms dropped and folded across her chest. “Ignoring you?” She shook her head. “I talked to him yesterday, he told me that the two of you went out to lunch two days ago.”

“He said what now?”

“He didn’t take you out to lunch?”

“Nope, I was here. I left the Tower almost as soon as I got there earlier this week because of him. We had our first conversation and I couldn’t handle it so I left. He’s been ignoring me for weeks.”

“Really?” She was clearly growing upset. This made you realize that he was keeping secrets from more than just you. His own girlfriend didn’t even know what he was up to. “I’m calling him.”

“Don’t, Pep, please. He needs to make the choice on whether or not he wants a relationship with me. Let’s just forget about him.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N.”

“It’s fine.” 

You walked away, going to the bathroom for a quick second to yourself. You locked yourself inside and leaned back against the wall, slowly sliding down it. Looking up at the ceiling, you tried not to have a full on breakdown. But Tony’s actions were starting to hurt more and more. He was your father. He chose to be your father. Now it felt like he was choosing not to. You closed your eyes and let yourself feel your emotions.

~~~

“And then I was like— Man, are you even listening?”

“Huh? What? I’m sorry, Sam.” 

Sam turned to see what Steve was looking at. He rolled his eyes with a sigh before looking back at Steve. “You know that you can go talk to Y/N. She doesn’t bite.”

“I’m just watching her. Tony hasn’t shown up so I know that can’t be easy for her.”

“You’re whipped.”

“Am not. I’m just a caring friend.”

“Sure. Cause ‘just a caring friend’ would throw a birthday party like this.”

“Actually, yes and–wait. Something’s wrong.” Steve watched as you walked out of the party. “Y/N just left.”

“Left?”

“She was talking to Pepper and I knew it wasn’t going well. I should have gone over there. I–” 

Steve interrupted himself and followed after you. He barely caught sight of you slipping into the bathroom when he reached the hall. He was relieved that you weren’t leaving, leaving. Steve lingered at the end of the hallway to see if you were going to be quick. When the minutes started ticking by, he began to grow concerned. Before he could walk over there and knock, you exited the bathroom.

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked as you headed toward him. He could see that your eyes were red. “Were you crying? What happened?”

“I’m fine.” You didn’t sound fine to Steve at all. “Just needed to use the bathroom.”

You pushed past Steve and started to mingle with your friends. Steve didn’t bother to stop you because he knew that you didn’t want to make a scene. He carefully kept an eye on you the rest of the party. 

Everyone slowly began to leave and you found yourself out on the deck. Sam and Steve were the last two. Sam said goodnight to Steve then left the Captain standing in the common room, staring at you through the windows. With a sigh, he finally went out to be with you. He leaned up against the railing, back to it, and his hands were stuffed in his pockets.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N,” he whispered, breaking the long strand of silence.

“For what? I had fun and I’m thankful that you threw the party.”

“I’m sorry for Tony not showing up.”

“That’s not on you… I just wish I had at least gotten a message from him.”

“You didn’t hear anything from him?”

You shook your head. “Not a word, a gift, anything… Tonight I found out he’s even been lying to Pepper about me. That’s before I went to the bathroom.” You looked over at Steve. There was a deep sorrow in his eyes. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, Cap.”

“Y/N…” Steve stepped closer. He reached over and grabbed your arms, slowly turning you to face him. “It’s okay for you to be upset. You’re allowed to cry. Tony is your dad and he missed out on your birthday. Hell, I’m pissed at him myself.”

“Language.”

Steve let out a chuckle, with you following. The chuckles quickly died down to silence. “I’m going to give Tony an earful and I bet that Pepper will as well.”

“Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

Steve leaned his forehead against yours, letting something deep inside him take over. His hands snaked their way to the small of your back. Your breath caught in your throat as your heart started racing. Slowly, your arms went around Steve to bring you closer to him.

“Steve…” you breathed out. “We… I…”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do… because I… I’m in love with my best friend.”

“Y/N–”

“Please, don’t say anything, Steve. Not tonight… I don’t want to hear it. I just need you with me.”

Steve pulled you in closer. He didn’t really know what to say to you, especially because he was trying to figure out his own feelings. “I’ll be here as long as you need me, sweetheart.”

You rested your head against his chest. Steve’s head came to rest on top of yours as one of his hands began to gently rub circles on your back. The two of you stood in content silence for a few minutes. The longer you two were like that, the more you were craving to kiss him. You bit your bottom lip and squeezed your eyes shut. Tears started forming in your eyes. You couldn’t let them spill onto his shirt or he would know that you were crying. Opening your eyes and blinking a few times, you let Steve go and stepped out of his grasp. You couldn’t look Steve in the eye due to the sadness that was being shown.

“I think I’m going to head to bed,” you stated. 

“Yeah,” Steve responded, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “I should too.”

“I had a great time tonight, Steve. Thank you for putting the party together. It meant a lot.”

“You deserved a wonderful birthday. I was just trying to make that happen.”

“It was… thanks for always being there for me.”

“Anytime, you know that.”

You gave him a small smile and a nod before turning to walk away. Right before you reached the door, you spun around and hurried back over to Steve, placing a kiss on his cheek once you reached him.

“Goodnight,” you whispered before rushing inside.

next chapter >

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

warnings: dominance, slight possessive behaviour from our man, misogyny, violence.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Beocca opens up to you and you long for Sihtric's return.

word count: 3,2k

Part I Part II part IV

Part III: The Lust

After Father Beocca managed to bring you back to your room, without having anyone notice, the two of you spent hours talking. Beocca was furious at first, as were you, but you both calmed down eventually. He told you all about Thyra, how he loved her and what happened to her. You wept at his story and understood, although still being hurt, why Beocca was so quick to take you away from Sihtric. Beocca promised he wouldn't tell your father, Alfred, but he told you to forget about Sihtric if you wanted him to live. If people would do such horrible things to the pagan wife of a priest, then what would they do to the pagan husband of a princess.

For days you didn't come out of your room. You barely ate, and all you did was either cry or sleep. Beocca checked on you a few times every day, and his heart broke for you. He knew how you felt, and how you wanted to be with Sihtric.

Beocca also noticed that Sihtric looked worse with each passing day. He'd gone out drinking heavily each night, after he'd been separated from you, and he had been looking for fights. He'd fight anyone at this point. Uhtred, Osferth and Finan didn't understand what had gotten into him and had to bring him home every night, for he was either too drunk to walk, or too beaten to walk. 

Beocca received news that Alfred was to send Uhtred and his men over to Cippanhamm in two days, to negotiate with the Danes. The trip to get there would already take a couple of days, and there was a big chance the negotiation would not end in their favour, which meant men could die. Beocca thought about it for a day, and then decided to tell you the news.

'I am sorry, princess,' Beocca said as you cried, 'if you want to give him a message, I will be the one to bring it to him.'

'So, first you tear us apart, and now you want to be the messenger?'

'It's the least I can do,' he sighed.

You thought for a moment and asked him to come back before noon.

Beocca came back later, you gave him a folded piece of paper, sealed with wax, and sent him away to find Sihtric.

Beocca found Sihtric near the river, alone. The sun was setting and he had just cleaned himself and his clothes for tomorrow's journey.

'Sihtric,' Beocca said, 'I have a message from the princess.'

Sihtric looked at Beocca, angry and hurt, but he nodded in approval, and Beocca walked over to him. He quickly studied Sihtric's bruised lip and his bruised hands, wondering what the man who was the receiver of those hands looked like today. He sighed before speaking.

'I told the princess you are to leave for a little while,' he said, 'she was clearly upset.' 

Beocca hesitantly sat down next to him, but Sihtric would not look at him.

'Is she okay?' Sihtric asked, looking straight ahead with his jaw clenched.

'Not really,' Beocca sighed. 

And Sihtric suddenly lunged his fist at Beocca, who raised his arm in reflex, 'I am sorry!' Beocca shrieked, 'I did it to protect you. Both of you!'

Sihtric stopped mid swing, knowing he could not hit the priest, and that he was right. It took him all his strength to calm down, and he let out a few heavy breaths.

'I know,' Sihtric said quietly, 'what message did she have for me?'

Beocca was silent for a moment, as if he wanted to recall your exact words.

'She said that she misses you,' he began, 'that her heart aches, and that she sees you every time she closes her eyes, and therefore all she does is sleep. When she is not asleep, she weeps for you,' Beocca told him. He saw how Sihtric teared up, and how he looked away, so Beocca waited until Sihtric composed himself.

He cleared his throat and nodded at Beocca to continue.

'She wishes me to tell you that she has fallen for you, Sihtric, and she wants you to come back home after the negotiations.'

Sihtric swallowed hard, 'she has fallen for me, Father? She said that?' 

Beocca nodded and placed his hand on Sihtric's shoulder.

'She has,' he said, 'and I can see it. She is a wreck without you. And God knows why.'

Sihtric snapped his head towards Beocca, opened his mouth to speak, but decided it was not wise to curse at a priest, so he let out a sigh and looked at his feet.

'Do you love her, son?' Beocca asked, after a silence.

'I love her,' Sihtric said, 'I wish to marry her one day,' and he wiped a tear away before it could escape his eye.

Beocca fell silent and put his head in his hands.

'She also gave me this,' Beocca said after a pause, and he handed the folded paper to Sihtric, 'it is for you.'

Sihtric unfolded the paper and scanned his eyes over it, and a broken smile appeared on his face. He folded the paper back, as his lower lip trembled, and he slid it into his leather armour, so it was kept safe and secure. Both men were silent.

'I am sorry that I brought up Thyra,' Sihtric said after a while.

'No,' Beocca said, 'I understand it. Look,' he paused, 'I can't promise you anything, but if you come back-'

'When I come back,' Sihtric interrupted, with a determined voice.

Beocca sighed, 'when you come back, after the negotiations, I will try to have you see her.'

Sihtric quickly looked up and he opened his mouth to speak, but Beocca interrupted him this time. 'No, be quiet,' he said, 'I can't promise it. It has to happen in secret, and you cannot tell anyone about what happened, or anything about the princess at all. This is going against everything I believe in,' he said and made a cross gesture, 'but two people in love should not be kept apart. Just make sure,' Beocca let out an irritated sigh, 'just come back. Alive.'

Sihtric took off his necklace and clutched it in his fist, 'tell the princess that I swear on Thor's hammer I will come back for her. On my life. She has my word, and she has to keep it until I come back and can prove to her my loyalty,' and he gave the necklace to Beocca, 'I will come back, Father. Thank you-'

'Yes, yes,' Beocca said irritatedly, 'learn to take a breath in between words, boy. I will give it to her and tell her.'

Two months had passed since Father Beocca had given you Sihtric's necklace, along with Sihtric's word. You never took it off, and kept hope he would come back. But rumors had spread that a fight had broken out, after a week of negotiating without getting to an agreement, and no one had heard from Uhtred ever since. Everyone feared that Cippanhamm was officially lost, and that Uhtred and his men had died in battle. Alfred didn't seem to mourn the men, he was only worried about losing Cippanhamm. Beocca kept praying.

On a sunny afternoon you heard the church bells ring, and people outside erupted into cheers and applause. Not much later Beocca stormed into your room. 'Princess!' he said, out of breath, 'princess, Uhtred and his men have returned. They had a long and hard battle and they lost men, but they won. Cippanhamm is safe!'

'What about Sihtric?' you asked, rushing towards Beocca.

'Yes, Sihtric is here too. He is alive, princess. But he did collect a few new scars.'

You fell to your knees and started crying. He was alive, that was all you wanted to hear. Beocca helped you up and calmed you down.

'As I told him, before he left, I will try to have you see him,' and Beocca walked away to arrange the secret meeting.

It was already after midnight when Beocca knocked on your door.

'Princess,' he whispered after he walked in, 'come with me. Be quick, but quiet.'

You quickly got dressed decently and followed him. Beocca gave you an old cloak and covered you. He quietly snuck you out of the castle, but except for some guards no one seemed to be awake, and even the guards didn't bother with the backdoor in the kitchen.

'I see how you managed to get out that night, 'Beocca sighed, 'I must tell the king to fix that problem.'

You stopped and looked offended at Beocca. 'Well, I mean… in time,' he quickly said and gestured for you to move.

'Where are we going?' you asked.

'Well, I can't bring the Dane into the castle, but the church has a backroom.' 

'The church? You're letting a Dane meet a princess in the church?'

'Yes,' he snarled, 'so I know that God will be watching your every move.' And he quickly made a cross sign.

In the church Beocca walked you to a large door. 'This room is used by priests before we say prayers with the townspeople. No one will find you here, but I beg, princess, just be careful,' he said.

'How long do I have?' you asked.

'Until dawn,' Beocca said, 'I will come back here just before dawn, and I will walk you back to the castle. If anyone does see you, I will say you needed time to speak with God. Now, go.' 

Beocca quietly opened the door for you and took your cloak. You stepped into a small, candle lit room. The room consisted of a chair, an altar table, more crucifixes than you could possibly count, and cloaks worn by priests during special ceremonies.

Your eyes adjusted to the dim light and you found Sihtric, standing with his back towards you, holding up a large silver crucifix. 

'Sihtric?' you said. 

He was startled, as if caught in an act, and he lost his grip on the large crucifix. Trying to save it from falling, he awkwardly tried to catch it, but the crucifix fell onto the floor with an ear deafening sound. He turned around with a guilty look on his face, and kept his head down. 'I was not stealing from the church,' he said.

You broke out in a laugh, and he looked up. He rushed towards you as soon as he laid eyes upon you. He stopped in front of you, hesitant to touch you, as it had been a while since you had last seen each other, and he wasn't sure if you still cared for him.

Burning candles lit up his appearance, and you saw he looked different. He had indeed gained a few scars and bruises on his face, but he also had cut his hair short and shaved both sides, and this was the first time you saw the tattoo on his neck continuing up to the side of his head.

Despite looking rough from weeks of battle, you thought he looked more handsome than ever. And you felt flustered looking at him.

You both didn't dare to speak, so your heavy breaths filled the room until you took off the necklace you had around your neck. You held it in your hands, looked at Sihtric and smiled.

'This belongs to you,' you said quietly, and held the necklace up to him.

He placed his hands on yours, 'I promised I would come back,' he said, and he put the necklace back around his neck. Then he reached into his shirt and took out the folded paper that Father Beocca gave him on your behalf. You saw the paper was crinkled and had blood stains on it. 

'Did you read it?' you asked hopefully and stepped closer to him, almost pressing your body against his.

Sihtric smiled as he looked down into your eyes, and then looked away as if embarrassed.

'Sihtric?' you smiled, 'Did you read the letter?'

'Princess,' he said quietly, 'I do not know how to read.'

'Oh,' you whispered. You both fell silent and gazed into each other's eyes, before both breaking out in a chuckle.

'But still, you kept my letter,' you said, and you held his hands as he held onto the paper.

'Beocca,' Sihtric said, 'he told me the things that you said to him. But I don't think those are words you really told him,' he paused, trying not to trip over his words, 'I think he knew I can't read, because the wax seal was already broken when he gave it to me.'

You let out a sigh and couldn't help but smile, knowing that Beocca had read your letter and had made sure to deliver your feelings to Sihtric before he left.

'But I believe he told me your exact words, and… and I carried your words with me… always, under my armour, upon my heart, my lady. I promise, I did. Each day, even in battle,' Sihtric said, talking faster than he could think, 'and, and not a-... not a moment went by that I didn't long for you. To have you in my arms, just like our first and only night. But I thought that you, maybe you… I worried that after all the, I mean, I worried that after all this time you had found someone else. A rich man, perhaps, who… who would always be home. A better man than me, a good man, and-'

You placed your hands onto his face, 'Sihtric,' you hushed him, 'you are a good man.'

'No,' he shook his head, 'No, I am a warrior, my lady. I kill men,' he said, and he brought his face closer to yours, 'And I enjoy it. The battles, the spilling of blood. I long for that too, as I long for you. And for that… for that I am not a good man.'

'Sihtric,' you whispered, feeling his breath on your lips, 'If you are not a good man, then that means that I do not want a good man.'

And just like that first night, you saw a hunger appear in his eyes. You saw his confidence slip back into his posture, and he licked his lips as he nodded. Then suddenly he lifted you up by your knees, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he looked deep into your eyes as he held you up against his body. You felt suffocated in his gaze, and quickly your hands found his hair. His soft, short dark hair, and you firmly brushed your fingers through it, feeling the scars on his head, before your lips crashed into his for a passionate kiss.

Sihtric stumbled a few steps back, and let out a deep moan into your mouth as his lower back collided with the altar table in the room. 'Sihtric?' you gasped, and he groaned as you broke the kiss, not only with lust for you, but also with pain. 

'Are you hurt?' you breathed heavy.

'Please,' Sihtric moaned, 'don't stop. I need you,' and he kissed you again. You let him kiss you, but he groaned again as you moved your hands down to his lower back, and you broke the kiss once more.

'Sihtric,' you said, panting, 'what is wrong?'

The look in his eyes as he clenched his jaw made you weak. And you knew that this man did not care if he was hurting from a battle wound. He wanted you, right now, and he would have you as he desired, and he would stop at nothing.

He turned around, still holding you up, and seated you down upon the altar table. He was breathing heavily and leaned in to kiss you again. Your hands pulled his shirt as he moved your dress up to your thighs. He kissed you and you pulled his shirt again, making him understand you wanted to feel his skin underneath. Sihtric pulled back and quickly took his shirt off, before locking his lips with yours again. Your hands moved up from his waist to his chest, and up to his neck. You felt his tongue in your mouth now, and you couldn't get enough of him. You placed one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his cheek, and you deepened the kiss, tasting all of him in your mouth. Then you felt him fumble around and undo his lower garment, he pulled down your underwear after, and placed his tight grip onto your hips.

'You're going to take me here?' you gasped, 'in a church, on an altar?'

'My lady,' Sihtric groaned, 'I have to confess,' and he brought his lips to your neck, 'you did catch me wanting to steal that silver crucifix,' he chuckled, before he bit and sucked on your neck. 'I told you I am not a good man,' he whispered. And he dragged his tongue over your skin, from your shoulder to your neck, bringing his lips to your ear.

'And I will fuck you wherever,' he growled, biting your ear, 'whenever,' kissing your neck, 'and however I wish.'

You both fell silent and you let his words linger in your head. The silence was broken when you let out a loud moan as you felt him smoothly push inside you. You pulled his hair hard, as you adjusted to him, and he didn't move for a moment, making sure it felt right for you.

And after you collided into a heated kiss again, you felt him thrust into you. Slow and passionate, his hands leaving bruises all over your body as he tried to control himself, letting you ease into him. 

'Don't hold back,' you said, as you wanted more and could feel he was restraining himself.

'You think you can handle all of me?' he smirked in between kisses.

'Sihtric,' you whispered hoarsely, and he looked down into your eyes. 

'Make me sin,' you sighed.

And that was all he wanted to hear.

No man had ever felt so good inside you, and you knew he felt that too. He kept you close, one arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder, his hand holding the back of your head, and his other arm around your waist, making sure you felt safe and loved the entire time he completely ravaged you. And you loved every second, every thrust, every moan, every kiss and every lustful gaze. This man was a beast. He was a brute. He was a Dane. And he was unlike any other man you ever met.

And when you finally gave in to him, reaching your high, with his name on your lips as you felt him release inside you, he locked eyes with you, and you knew then that he would never let another man touch you after today. You didn't know how this would work, how you would be together, but you knew you were his now, and that he would kill for you. For he is a warrior. And he enjoys the battle and the spilling of blood, and it makes him feel just as alive as it does when he watches you in his arms, satisfyingly catching your breath, after he fucked you senseless for the second time that night.

But you didn't know that at the same time Sihtric was deep inside you, telling you how good you were to him and that you belonged to him now, your father, Alfred, had an urgent meeting with Uhtred. Arranging your departure from Wessex the next day, escorted by Uhtred and his men, to be wedded to a nobleman in Wiltunscir a week later.

[nightfurylover31]

I really love Adam Bryce Thomas's cover for the 5th Year Anniversary issue! It's so cute! I was hoping the mini issue we were getting was centered around it, but we got something else. So I decided to write something about it! Capturing everything that happens in every picture, keeping it within canon range. I hope you all like it.

*takes place before #57*

The air was refreshing. Much warmer than it had been, yet the breeze had a bit of a chill. The cherry blossoms had bloomed and some of their petals had begun to fall. Other flowers had started opening. A clear sign of early spring. As such, the Riverside Romp was the place to be. 

“Wow, it just started but the place is already packed,” Sonic said as he and Amy walked through the entrance. 

“It is one of the biggest celebrations around the villages in this area,” Amy responded. 

The river in this zone branched out into several villages. As such, everyone gathered in the field outside of Riverside, celebrating the new season. Sonic recognized folks from Vista View, Windmill Village, Barricade Town, Spiral Hill, and more. There were tents and food stands set up all over. The festival lasted all weekend, but even the first day was filled with guests. 

“I’m glad you decided to join us, Sonic.” Amy was going with Cream and Vanilla, but decided to ask Sonic as well. Things had been tough on him lately, so she thought he needed to relax a bit. And she figured having the Rabbit family would put him more at ease about coming.

“Sure thing, I’ve always wanted to come to one of these.” 

“With all that’s been happening, this is just the kind of break we needed. Especially you.” 

“Oh come,” Sonic rolled his eyes. “don’t start that again. The last few adventures were rough, but nothing I couldn’t handle.” 

Amy put her hands on her hips. “You were violently electrocuted, and then nearly brain swapped with a robot. And both times your leg was injured.” 

Sonic let out a sheepish chuckle. “What can I say? Trouble always seems to find me.” 

The pink hedgehog sighed, resting her hand on her forehead. While she admired Sonic’s spirit, she wished he didn’t take these kinds of experiences so lightly. 

“My point is there’s nothing wrong taking it easy.” 

“I know, and you’re right. Let’s just enjoy today. I hear they got special chili dogs at these things.” 

Amy couldn’t help but laugh as Sonic licked his lips at the thought of trying the food. 

“Mr. Sonic! Ms. Amy! Hurry!” The two turned to see Cream calling them as she and her mother had already entered the gate. 

“What are we waiting for?” Sonic smiled. “Let’s go!” 

The group spent some time together until Cream saw a face painting booth. She got the artist to paint Cheese’s face while Sonic and Amy continued. There were souvenir stands with handmade clothing, bags and accessories. Naturally, the former stopped when he saw a hotdog stand. With so many toppings he had to try one with everything. Next to it was a backed goods stand, which Amy was drawn to. The large heart-shaped cookies hanging overhead looked especially delicious. As the two headed over to the picnic tables to eat and rejoin their friends, Amy noticed a familiar woolly figure making their way to the river. 

“Sonic, go ahead,” she said as she gave her treats to him. “I’ll catch up.” The blue hedgehog shrugged but did as he was told. 

Outside of the festivities, Amy met up with a lone girl sitting on a log. 

“Hello Lanolin.” 

The sheep turned her head. “Oh, Ms. Rose. I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Lanolin was part of the Restoration. She joined just after the Neo Metal incident. She had been helping regularly. If memory served correctly, she was now an assistant to Jewel.

“I came with my friends, and please, call me Amy. No need for formalities.” Amy sat down beside her. “What are you doing here instead of the party? It looks like something’s bothering you.” 

Lanolin hung her head low, looking at her hands folded in her lap. “I just wonder… if I’m really making a difference.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When you and Sonic saved my town, I realized how helpless I was. I couldn’t do anything. I wanted to do more. So I joined the Restoration to help. But even so, I feel like I haven’t done anything.” 

“That’s not true,” Amy quickly defended. “You’ve helped with the evacuations when we were dealing with the Metal Virus. You even protected the survivors when we were in Spiral Hill and Angel Island. That’s something.” 

“Barely. Most of the Zombots were focusing more on the areas I wasn’t in. And when the Zeti attacked HQ, I didn’t fight back either. I just grabbed as many people as I could find and hid. I feel like a coward.” 

“Protecting people is just as important as fighting. Nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“But it’s…” The sheep went quiet. 

Sensing her discouragement, Amy took a deep breath and sighed. “It’s not enough. You want to contribute more.” 

Lanolin nodded. “You and the others do such amazing things. I know I can’t do anything like that, but-" 

“You just haven’t found it yet.” 

“W-what?” Lanolin was caught off guard by Amy's interruption.

“You haven’t found your special skill yet. Something only you can do. I had my own problems figuring it out, but I kept trying.” With that Amy started fidgeting with her fingers. “Honestly, you remind me of how I used to be. I wanted to go on adventures with Sonic, but I was just getting in the way. Even after getting my hammer, I still felt like I was a bother most of the time. But even if I can’t run fast, fly, or anything super special, I still try to help in any way I can. No matter how small.” 

Hearing this caused Lanolin to smile. She rubbed her cheek, as if wiping a tear. “Thanks for that, Amy. I’m still not sure what I could do to help more.” 

“Well, is there any way you can think of to make the Restoration more effective?” 

The sheep blinked for a moment, then put her hand to her chin to think. After a while, she spoke “Considering all the havoc Dr. Eggman has caused… if there was some way to get the jump on him…” 

“Like a response team? That’s a great idea!” A way to stop Eggman before things get too out of control. That way there would be less collateral damage, and less Sonic would have to deal with. Amy knew he loved the thrill of the fight, and she didn’t want to take that from him, but so much weight had been put on him lately. Some have even blamed him for certain events due to his actions. If people did more, they wouldn’t have to keep relying on him or turn any distress towards him.  

“It’s just a thought. I don’t know how to pull it off—” 

“But it’s a start, and that’s what matters,” the hedgehog assured. “As a very special friend of mine says, ‘nothing starts until you take action.’” 

“Smart advice,” Lanolin agreed. 

Amy got up and motioned her hand. “Come on. Let’s get back. There’s still plenty of fun to be had.” 

The two headed back to the festival. Lanolin saw her friends before Amy did, so they split up. She saw the gang still at the tables eating. Though she couldn’t help but notice a few bites missing from her cookie. 

“I’m sorry Ms. Amy,” Cream apologized. “Cheese was hungry, and I couldn’t stop him.” The Chao still had crumbs on his face. His face painting had also been smudged trying to wipe them off.

Amy simply patted bunny on the head. “Don’t worry about it, Cream. There’s still plenty left, and we’re here to have fun." 

After going around to more of the stands, the last event of the day was about to start. Sparklers were passed out some people. Amy watched the lights dance around, careful that the sparks didn’t hit her hand. Everyone gathered as the mayor of Windmill Village stood at the front. The old ram cleared his throat and began to speak. 

“Thanks to all of you for coming out and joining us! I know the last year has been hard on us all, but that’s exactly why we need to celebrate the good days we have. We must cherish everything and everyone around us and let them know how they mean to us. Spring is a time of new beginnings. I’m sure new stories and opportunities are awaiting each and every one of you. So let us welcome it all with open arms.” He raised his fist in the air. “To a wonderful year!” 

“Yeah!” 

The crowd cheered with absolute bliss. Amy was so in the moment she didn’t even realize she was holding Sonic’s hand. Soon the music picked up, and everyone was singing and dancing. This went on for a few more hours.

As the sun began to set, everyone began to head home. Cream and Vanilla waved goodbye as they parted ways from Amy and Sonic. 

“That was so much fun,” Sonic exclaimed as he stretched his arms in the air. “Thanks for inviting me along, Ames.” 

“I’m glad you joined us too,” Amy beamed. She felt much more at ease than she had been in a while, and she could tell Sonic did as well. The way his quills bent down, the way he smiled. She knew how to read him by now when he was tense. She did not see that now. All cares and troubles were out of mind. It felt great to finally be able to relax without Eggman or anyone else ruining it. “We should come again next year. We could invite Tails, Knuckles, Tangle, Whisper, and the others to come too.” 

“Or it could just be the two of us and make it a date,” the blue hedgehog said casually.

Amy froze in place. Her face turned bright red. She looked at Sonic, who was sporting his smug grin. 

She gave him a playful shove. “Don’t tease me like that!” 

“What? I thought that’s what you wanted, right?”

"Sonic, you-" 

The two friends continued laughing as they made their way home. 

[lotrandthehobbitwritings]

Amethyst

Pairing: Kíli x (fem!) Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning: sexual tension, mentions of wounds and needles

Words: 5190

(not proof read!!)

‘’Well then, that’s decided. It will be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others’’

‘’Inform the who? What? No, no, no! We do not want any adventures here, thank you! Not today! I suggest you try somewhere over the hill or across the water! Good morning!’’

You heard the door slammed shut as your father stormed back inside the house.

‘’Father, who was that old man?’’ you asked in confusion seeing your father frustrated.

‘’No one you should worry about (y/n)’’ he answered after clearing his throat and leaning on the door.

But then came this noise that made both you and your father frown, wondering what it could be. It sounded like, scrapping..? That was odd. Nonetheless, you and your father went on as if nothing happened. Well, your father acted as if nothing happened, you on the other hand had many more questions about the conversation you heard between your father and that oddly dressed old man, but you knew better than to ask your father for more information.

As the afternoon arrived, you both went out to run some errands. You needed to buy a few ingredients for dinner and so you followed your father as he made his way to the market. Specifically heading towards the stall of a fisherhobbit. After paying for the goods, your father thanked him and placed the fishes in the basket you were holding. As you two walked back home, you came across an elderly of the Shire. Your father talked with him, and you listened.

‘’She looks very much like her mother, stunning just like she was’’

‘’Yes..’’ your father said with a small smile. ‘’She is’’

The conversation ended there, and you made your way back home. Your father seemed sad, he was silently walking whilst kicking small rocks with his feet. You couldn’t help but feel sad at this sight. Your mother died when you were very young. Your father never really talked about it, and you never really asked questions until you became older. With time, you were able to have more information on what happened to your late mother. She lost her life when her and your father explored outside of the Shire and accidentally drowned in a river. This day left your father obviously heart broken, but he gathered all his strength and put it into raising you. Everyone loved your mother. She was kind-hearted, joyful, and selfless. Despite her being a human, she was easily welcomed into the community of The Shire. So, when the news of her death made its way to all Hobbits in town, all mourned her. And all gathered to provide your father with goods to make it easier on him.

That evening as you two ate, the doorbell rang, leaving the both of you confused. Your father got up and walked towards the door and opened it. You couldn’t see much from the dining room, but it looked like a small man at the step of your door. Despite him being small, he in no way looked like a Hobbit. He in fact was a bit taller.

‘’Dwalin, at your service’’ you heard the man say while bowing to your father.

Dwalin? What a strange name you thought. Your father introduced himself using the same sentencing as the man just did, but with more confusion in his voice.

‘’Sorry, do we know each other?’’ your father asked as the man stepped inside the house uninvited.

‘’No’’ he simply replied while looking around as if he was searching for something.

‘’Which way laddie? Is it down here?’’ he continued.

‘’Is what down where?’’ your father asked in utter confusion.

‘’Supper!’’ the man said while tossing his coat at your dad. ‘’He said there’d be food and lots of it’’

‘’He said? Who said?’’

But the man didn’t answer. Instead, he sat down at your father’s chair and started eating the fish that was in front of him. You were quick to get up, uneasy to have a stranger sitting this close to you. Your father walked besides you and stood in front of you. Despite you being half Hobbit half Human, you were short. You took your looks from your mother but had your father’s size. No physical appearance of yours apart of your height could give away that your father is a Hobbit.

You watched as the man ate most of the food that was in his sight. Your father barely got to save two buns so that you two could eat. And as if this stranger wasn’t enough, the doorbell rang again. This time, the man was a bit shorter, but looked much older. He had a long white beard that matched his hair.

‘’Oh! Evening brother!’’ the old man said.

Brother, how could these two be related? You questioned yourself seeing that one was muscular, and that the other was well, rounder. The two banged their head against another and that’s when you realized they were Dwarves. You never seen one with your bare eyes. The only Dwarf you ever seen was a drawing from one of your father’s many books. But they didn’t look like the two standing in your pantry. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a third ring of the doorbell.

‘’Fíli’’

‘’And Kíli’’

‘’At your service’’ you heard the two younger Dwarves say in unison as they, much like the others, bowed.

‘’You must be mister Boggins!’’ the dark-haired one said, which made you chuckle silently.

Your father tried to keep them out, and that’s when the other asked if the event has been cancelled.

‘’Cancelled? Nothing’s been cancelled!’’

‘’That’s a relief!’’ Kíli said while stepping inside.

These two seemed less proper than the two before. They walked around and wiped their boots on furniture, much to your father’s displeasure. The youngest Dwarf turned a corner of the house and his eyes met with yours.

‘’Good evening’’ he said with a smile.

‘’Good evening’’ you answered, smiling as well.

The Dwarf turned around and joined the others.

Less than an hour later, your house was filled with Dwarves. 13 of them to be exact. And the oddly dressed old man from this morning was there too. You learned that his name was Gandalf and that he was a wizard. The company, as they called themselves, talked about their quest to regain their homeland. A kingdom called Erebor that rested under a mountain. You listened closely as you were interested in the story. Much like your father, you always had an interest in tales and stories. The Dwarves and Gandalf then talked about few more things the quest involved, and that’s when one of the Dwarves spoke up.

‘’That’s why we need a burglar’’

‘’A good one too. An expert I’d imagine’’ your father replied.

‘’And are you?’’ another Dwarf asked.

‘’Am I what?’’

‘’He said he’s an expert!’’ the first Dwarf expressed with much excitement in his voice.

Your father was quick to deny that statement. After all, the Dwarf needed the aid of an ear trumpet, so he clearly didn’t properly hear what your father said. The oldest Dwarf agreed with your father, saying he hardly was burglar material. But the wizard became irritated and argued his case that your father would be an excellent burglar, noting that Hobbits are light on their feet and that they can go unnoticed easily. The leader of the company, his name was Thorin, agreed to go with Gandalf’s wishes and asked for the members of his troupe to take out the contract so that your father could sign it. As he began to read, your father’s eyes grew big. It wasn’t long before he started feeling faint and you could see it. After a few minutes, all thanks to Bofur, your father passed out. You were quick to kneel by his side to make sure he was alright. When he regained consciousness, you helped him sit in his armchair, where he talked with Gandalf. You listened to them as Gandalf told the tale of your great-great-great-great-great uncle Bullroarer Took during the Battle of Green Fields. And almost as your father was now convinced, he asked the Wizard one simple question.

‘’Can you promise that I will come back?’’

‘’No. But if you do, you will not be the same’’

‘’That’s what I thought’’ your father said with a small sigh. ‘’I’m sorry Gandalf, but I can’t sign this. You’ve got the wrong Hobbit’’

And so, the evening came to an end. You were, in all honesty, disappointed. You wanted to know more, and the only way to be able to do so was to join them in their quest. But you stayed silent as coming against his word wasn’t the right thing to do in the moment.

The next morning you got up and walked downstairs, seeing your father staring at the contract that was lying there on the coffee table. The house was silent, meaning that the Dwarves were gone.

‘’Father?’’

He turned his head to look at you and gave a little smile.

‘’What will you do?’’ you asked.

‘’What will I do?’’ he said with a slight chuckle, almost as if he thought your question was unnecessary. ‘’Nothing of course, why should I go on a quest to steal from a dragon and risk my life doing so’’

‘’Because you love adventures, we both do’’

‘’Loved adventures. It’s all in the past now (y/n). Adventures and quests are something way too dangerous’’

‘’But we would have a chance to explore the world! See it for ourselves after reading about it in books for so many years!’’

‘’We?’’ your father asked. ‘’There is no we. If I were to go, I would not risk the life of my daughter for a group of Dwarves’’

‘’Father..’’ you said while taking his hands. ‘’I’m not a little girl anymore, I can defend myself when needed’’

‘’Against chickens (y/n), the only thing that could threaten us here. The world is far more dangerous than three chickens running after you because you stole their eggs’’

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words.

‘’I know that father, but they have weapons. They can teach us, teach me how to use one. And if luck is on our side, I would not need to use a weapon ever’’

You smiled a bit sadly and held his hands more tightly.

‘’Mother would have been so excited to be able to go on such journey, don’t you think?’’

‘’She would’ve yes..’’ you father answered sadly.

‘’Then why not honour her by helping them? She wouldn’t want us to stay in here when a chance to explore the world is offered to us’’

Your father looked at you, clicked his tongue, and sighed.

‘’You are convincing.. Way too convincing in fact. Your mother would be proud’’

You smiled and took a quill in your hand.

‘’Let’s go and explore the world then’’ you said with a smile still on your lips.

And that is how you and your father joined the company of Thorin Oakenshield.

So far, the adventure has been easy. You encountered trolls but escaped easily. You then came across goblins, which was a scary part but thankfully you had Kíli and Fíli to reassure you. You grew very close to the brothers as time went on. You pretty much were the same age as Kíli, just a little bit younger, but you two got along as if you knew each other all your lives. Now getting along with the youngest brother meant you got along with the oldest, but he seemed scary at first. He looked way more serious and sterner than his younger brother, but you quickly learned it wasn’t the case. They both goofed around a lot, and both were reckless. They both brought you in their ideas, which was fun to you. Now of course their uncle and your father weren’t fond of you three always wandering off. Their uncle didn’t like it because he wanted both his nephews to be more serious and show they can be responsible, and your father didn’t like it because he was worried that you’d get hurt as you didn’t know what could be out there. The night was slowly falling, and everyone were setting up the camp.

‘’Bifur, take the night watch’’ you heard Thorin say.

The Dwarf nodded and sat by a fallen tree log, resting his back on it. The rest of the company worked on various tasks that would be necessary for the night. Bombur was prepping the food to cook, Dwalin was making a fire as it was colder tonight. The rest were making the place as comfortable as they could.

‘’(y/n), follow me’’ Kíli said low enough so no one else would hear.

You turned around and saw him heading towards the small forest that was behind the camp. You quickly looked at the others to see if anyone was watching you, and when the coast was clear, you walked in the same direction as Kíli. But there was no sign of him, which made you frown.

‘’Kíli?’’

No answer. You looked around in every direction possible to see if you could find him, but it was no use. The forest was getting too dark for you to see him. You then heard a branch breaking behind you and you turned around quickly putting your hand on the hilt of your sword, ready to take it out. That’s when you felt a hand on your shoulder. In a split second you took out your sword and pointed it at the person behind you, making them back against a tree. As you squinted, you recognized the silhouette.

‘’Kíli are you mad? I could’ve hurt you, or worse killed you!’’

‘’You could never kill me’’ your friend said with a smirk on his face.

‘’Are you saying this because I’m a woman? Or because I’m smaller than you?’’ you said with a small scoff while putting away your sword.

‘’None, I’m just too good at fighting that’s why’’ he said on a joking tone.

You chuckled at his words.

‘’Don’t give yourself too many credits, if I must remind you, I was trained by you and your brother, so my skills are pretty sharp’’

Kíli laughed and agreed.

‘’Come, I want to show you something I found earlier’’ he said.

You frown curiously and followed him as he led you deeper into the forest. After a few minutes of walking, you saw a small pond and steam coming out of it.

‘’A hot spring’’ you said with a smile.

Kíli nodded.

‘’I figured you’d want to dip in it since you said you miss taking hot baths’’

You looked at him, a bit shy.

‘’Well yes, but it wouldn’t be safe’’

‘’And why not?’’

‘’Because we are far from the company, and we could get attacked’’ you said.

‘’I thought you said you fighting skills were sharp’’ Kíli answered, yet again smirking.

That smirk had some effect on you, but you couldn’t let it show. Or else he would tease you endlessly.

‘’Well, yes’’ you said, baffling out your words.

Kíli chuckled and started removing his tunic.

‘’What are doing?’’ you asked, thankful that it was dark as your cheeks were getting red.

‘’Going to take a hot bath’’ the prince answered as he set his tunic down on the grass.

You watched as his hands made their way to the laces of his trousers. You tried your best to not show how shy you were, but it was no use. The Dwarf prince could see your flustered look through the darkness, to which he answered with a small chuckle. He quickly removed his boots and trousers before getting in the hot spring. You stayed in your place, not moving an inch.

‘’Well? Are you not going to join me?’’

No words could leave your mouth.

‘’The water is pretty hot and relaxing by the same mean’’ he added as he rested his back against the stones of the pond.

Kíli chuckled again and smiled.

‘’Fine I’ll close my eyes, even though missing such a view will be a shame’’

You nodded in agreement and waited until he closed his eyes to undress. You quickly removed your coat and your tunic before removing your boots and trousers, leaving you naked in the cold air of the night. You were quick to join him in the hot spring before you would freeze, sighing silently as the hot water touches every inch of your body as you lower yourself more and more in the pond.

‘’Comfortable right?’’ Kíli said as he opened his eyes.

‘’Very’’ you answered, making sure that your breasts were hidden by the water.

Kíli smiled and looked at you. You could feel his burning eyes on you, they would not let you out of their sight. You couldn’t help but look at his hairy chest, his long dark hair falling from his shoulders, the tip being wet as it touched the water. You could make out the muscles of his chest and it brought a burning sensation inside of you. Your mind kept telling you to stop staring, that he would notice and that it would be embarrassing as he’d take the opportunity to tease you, but your eyes couldn’t listen. They were stuck to his chest, almost as if they were being hypnotized. And the prince noticed, and he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight. He knew the effect he had on you at this very moment, and he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like it. He loved it in fact. Because since he stepped inside your house back in the Shire, he has been obsessed with you. He could only imagine how you look under your dress. That day, your hair was gently tucked back behind your ear, exposing your neck to him and he ever since has been thinking of kissing it. Now your neck was exposed again, much to his liking. And he had to hold back to not pull you closer to him and give in to his fantasies.

The air became hotter, you didn’t know if it was from the hot spring or from the prince in front of you. It became harder to breathe, your chest was raising faster than it normally was. You needed to calm down, and quickly.

‘’The moon is pretty, isn’t it’’ you managed to get out somehow, stuttering the last bit of your sentence, hoping he didn’t notice.

The prince’s eyes looked away from you to stare up at the sky. The moon was full and shining brightly in the dark sky full of stars. There were barely any clouds to hide the beautiful view above.

‘’Yes, it is. Nights like these are some of the prettiest things in this world’’

You agreed with a small hum. While Kíli was looking up, you took the opportunity to sit more comfortably. What you didn’t know though, was that your new position would allow the prince to get a better view of your breasts. And he noticed as soon as he looked back at you. He felt his member harden at the sight but tried his best to keep his composure.

The distant voices of your companions could be heard as they called out that supper was ready.

‘’We should probably go back, before they start looking for us’’ you said, yet again stuttering.

‘’Yes, we shall’’ Kíli agreed, a stutter leaving his lips as well.

You both got out, trying your best not to look at each other, and dressed up as quickly as you could. The warmth of your coat helped keep your body temperature at a warmer temperature, which you were thankful for. You both walked back to camp and enjoyed a nice warm meal.

Weeks went by, the battle for Erebor was just over and thankfully everyone of your company were alright. Hurt, but alive. You and Oín were tending to the wounded, and you just finished bandaging your father’s cuts.

‘’You’ve impressed me a lot during this journey (y/n)’’ your father said while putting his hand on your cheek.

‘’You keep showing me how much your mother would be proud to have a daughter like you’’ he added.

You smiled and put a hand on his.

‘’She would be proud of you too father, for going out and exploring the world. Helping the Dwarves getting their home back’’

Your father smiled and kissed your forehead.

‘’Go tend to the others, I’ll be fine’’

You nodded and watched as he walked towards Thorin. You gathered your material and headed towards Dwalin, but saw that Oín got to him first. You then felt a pair of eyes on you. And you knew too well who it was. You smiled to yourself and turned around, now facing Kíli. You walked to him and kneeled in front of him as he was sitting down. He had a big cut on his right cheek, which was still bleeding down his chin.

‘’What do you think nurse?’’ Kíli asked, making you smile.

The tension between you two was still very present, even more since the dip in the hot spring. His eyes never left you whenever you two were near each other, and it very much was the case right now. His eyes were wandering up and down, taking in every detail of your shape. Your waist was beautifully shaped because of the belt around it, making the dress tighter and looking like an hourglass. Kíli could only wish he could see your hips, but the skirt of your dress hid them. The thing he loved most, was your bust. He loved how plump your breasts looked with how tight the dress was. Even though he couldn’t see much of the actual breasts themselves, he could very well see the shape of them. And it only made his fantasies stronger.

‘’You might need a few stitches’’ you answered as you got closer to him to have a better look.

His eyes directly went to your chest, as it was now too close for him not to look at it. You grabbed a clean cloth and gently wiped his cheek, making him wince in the process. You apologized and gently dabbed the wound to get a better look. Now that the blood was mostly all gone, you had a better understanding of how deep the cut was, and it thankfully wasn’t that bad.

‘’It’s not as deep as I thought, but you’ll still need a few stitches’’ you said while grabbing a needle and some thread.

Kíli watched you as you passed the thread through the eye of the needle.

‘It will sting’’ you warned as you gently held his cheek.

‘’It’s fine, it’s not like I never had stitches before’’ he said with a chuckle.

You smiled and asked if you could start, to which he nodded. You guided the needle through his wounded cheek and watched as he frowned, holding his knee tightly. You apologized and continued with your actions, stitching his cut in no time.

‘’All done’’ you said as you gently dabbed the cloth on his wound again.

‘’Thank you’’ the prince said while gently touching the stitches you just gave him.

‘’Don’t touch it, your hands aren’t clean, and I don’t want you to get an infection’’

Kíli nodded and put his hand away.

‘’Is your duty as nurse over?’’ he then asked.

You looked around and saw that Oín took care of the last person in need of treatment.

‘’Yes, all done’’ you answered while wiping your hands with another cloth than the one you just used.

‘’Then would you come with me to explore the kingdom?’’

You got a bit shy at his request. It wouldn’t be the first time you spend alone time with him, but it would be the first time since the hot spring. Nonetheless, you agreed happily. Kíli smiled while getting up, took your hand and led you down a staircase. The young prince had the chance to explore Erebor before he and the others joined the battle, so he knew exactly where he wanted to take you. You on the other hand were clueless, part of it because you never went any further than the entrance and the throne room, but also because you couldn’t tell what he wanted you to see. After getting down another flight of stairs, you made it to a smaller room where many jewels were. The sight was of course breathtaking, you have never seen any jewels, let alone so many.

‘’Unbelievable that these treasures were untouched. Smaug could’ve easily taken them with him, although he cared more for the gold than for anything else’’ Kíli said while walking to a table.

You followed him, almost scared to touch anything as you felt like it wasn’t yours to hold.

‘’Don’t be scared’’ the prince said almost as if he read your mind. ‘’You can touch the gems’’

You nodded and walked closer to the table he was standing in front of. There laid many small purple gems.

‘’Amethyst, right?’’ you asked as you reached for a bigger one that laid in the middle of the others.

Kíli nodded and smiled.

‘’You like them?’’

You answered with a nod and glanced more closely at the gem in your hand.

‘’It’s beautiful. I saw so many drawings of it in my father’s books.. I never thought I’d lay eyes on one, let alone hold one’’

‘’The color suits you’’ he said as he got closer to you. ‘’It’s the same color as the dress you were wearing when we first met’’

‘’I always loved the color purple’’ you said smiling. ‘’It’s the color of so many beautiful things.. Lilac, lavender, purple emperors, and lilac-breaster rollers’’

Kíli smiled as you listed everything.

‘’Beautiful things indeed’’ he said, grabbing your hand in which the gem was. ‘’But I know of something far prettier than all those you said’’

‘’And that is?’’

‘’You’’

You felt your cheeks change colors, a hot sensation taking over them. Kíli chuckled at your shy expression.

‘’You’re cute when flustered’’ he said, which only made you shier.

You couldn’t get a single word out, your mouth was glued shut and so was Kíli’s hand around yours you just noticed. His other hand then made its way to your red cheek, which made you look at him.

‘’(y/n)’’ he said, his tone more serious. ‘’I have to be honest and tell you the reason I brought you here, and I hope that you won’t hate me for it’’

Your eyebrows frowned in confusion, and in a slight fright too as you feared what he would say.

‘’Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I couldn’t take you off my mind. Everyday I thought about you, thought of how kind and how beautiful you are. I love every moment I spent with you, you make my heart warmer. And during the battle, all I could think of was that I needed to survive to see you again. You were my strength, and those wounds I got, I got them for you amrâlimê’’

You could not get what you were hearing. Not that you didn’t understand it, you understood all of what he said, all except from that last word. You didn’t know a single word in khuzdul. You watched as he reached a hand in his pocket and took out a small metal bead, which had an amethyst hanging from it. You recognized immediately what it was, having seen many in the Dwarves hair. It was a braiding bead. You didn’t know why he was offering you one, but you couldn’t take your eyes off it as you thought it was so beautifully made.

‘’In our culture, hair braiding is obviously very common, but there is one specific braiding that means more than others to us.. Courtship braiding is a tradition in which a braid is done and is clasped using one of these’’ he said, now holding the bead in his fingers.

‘’And so.. I wanted to know..’’

You looked at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

‘’I wanted to know if you would want to be mine, and only mine’’ he said.

You couldn’t believe it. Was this really happening? After weeks of you dreaming of that moment, it finally was coming to reality.

‘’Kíli..’’ you watched the bead in his hand. ‘’Are you sure about this?’’

‘’More than anything. I love you amrâlimê, more than I ever loved or will love anyone’’

‘’But.. I’m not of your kin.. Would it even be allowed?’’ you said while looking at him with tears in your eyes. ‘’You’re a son of Durin, aren’t you expected to marry within your kin?’’

‘’My uncle and my mother cannot control my heart (y/n), and besides, I’m not the heir’’ he said, gently rubbing your cheek with his free one, a soft smile drawing on his lips.

You were still scared. What if Thorin gets angry at him for not respecting the tradition of the line of Durin.

‘’Amrâlimê, trust me’’

‘’I do trust you, I’m just worried’’ you said silently.

‘’And I promise you don’t have to be’’

You nodded, putting your hand on his left cheek.

‘’Then yes Kíli, I will be yours’’

Kíli smiled widely and gently brought you closer before kissing your soft lips. The kiss lasted a few seconds, as none of you wanted to let go of each other. After both waiting for so long, you didn’t want it to stop.

‘’You are beautiful amrâlimê’’

You still had no idea what it means, but it sounded so well as it rolled off his tongue. You were drawn to the sound of that word.

‘’Amrâlimê’’ you repeated. ‘’What does it mean?’’

‘’My love’’ Kíli answered, smiling.

You smiled too and kissed him again.

‘’May I?’’ he asked, gently grabbing a lock of your hair in his fingers.

You nodded and turned around for him to braid your hair. He did a simple braid on the left side of your head. His touch was gentle, it was almost relaxing. You smiled as you felt him clasp the end of your braid with the bead. After he finished, he turned you around and looked at you.

‘’So beautiful’’ he said while rubbing your cheek.

‘’Should I make you one too?’’ you asked.

‘’Of course, amrâlimê’’

He took out another bead, exactly like yours and gave it to you. You did the same as him, braiding his left side while making sure to be as gentle as he was. Kíli loved your touch, it was sweet and showed how caring you were.

‘’All done’’ you said while closing the bead at the end of the braid.

The prince, who was now yours, turned around and kissed you again. The kiss was more passionate and showed how much love he had for you.

‘’I love you’’ he said against your lips.

‘’And I you, amrâlimê’’

[smilingformoney]

For The Love of Books, Chapter III. Afternoon Delight

Summary: Betty tries her best to get through tea at the Bryants', and later that night, Sinclair has a strange dream.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

While Sinclair went to get ready for tea, Betty introduced herself to Mei-Li, the housekeeper, and offered her some help getting things ready.

“Have you worked for the Bryants long?” Betty asked as she sliced up the bread for the tiny sandwiches.

“Oh, for about five years now. They moved in here just after getting married, then hired me.”

“You must know them pretty well, then.”

“I suppose.”

“And do you like them?”

Mei-Li hesitated before answering. “Sinclair’s always very nice. Natalie isn’t unkind, but she doesn’t really talk to me except when she needs to. But Sinclair always says hello and talks to me.”

“I’ve known Sinclair for about a day, and already I know that if there’s one thing he’ll do, it’s talk to you.”

Mei-Li laughed. “Yes, that’s true.”

“So is he really nice then? I keep getting some terrible fear that he’s going to turn out to be pretending just to lure me into some trap. It’s a silly idea, I know, but —"

“No, he’s lovely!” Mei-Li insisted. “He can be a bit oblivious sometimes, but he’s harmless. He’s just easily distracted. But he has a positive energy about him, you know? He’s been a little down since the summer, of course, but he tries to keep his spirits up.”

“What happened in the summer?”

Mei-Li paused, realising she’d slipped up. “Oh - well, that’s not for me to say. He and Natalie may seem like the perfect couple to company, but they’re people and people make mistakes. They’re working through it, though.”

Betty paused, considering. Mistakes? What kind of mistakes? And who’d made them - Sinclair or Natalie?

“Thanks for your help, Betty, but I’ve got it from here. Natalie won’t be happy if she sees someone helping me. There’s some magazines and today’s Times in the conservatory if you want something to read while you wait.”

“Great, thanks Mei-Li.”

Betty found the newspaper in the conservatory and immediately opened it to the puzzles page. She found a pen and immediately got stuck into the crossword.

“I’m on time for once!” Sinclair announced as he bounced into the room. “Are you proud of me?”

Betty looked up at him with amusement. “Are you often late?”

“Oh, constantly. But I knew you were all alone down here, so I came as quickly as I could.”

“I’m not alone. I’ve been talking to Mei-Li.”

“Oh, you have? Lovely! She’s wonderful. I literally could not live without her. We were here for about a week before we realised we needed a housekeeper. We simply couldn’t keep up with the estate ourselves. We’ve got a gardener, too. Ricardo, lovely chap. Doesn’t speak much English but he tries, bless him. He also acts as captain when we go out on the boat, which is a godsend, because I don’t know the first thing about boats.”

“You said you didn’t own a boat!”

“Oh, no, it’s not ours. It’s his. He does river trips and the like when he’s not gardening. Maybe we could go out on the boat later!” He glanced out the window, where a dark stormcloud was looming on the horizon. “Hmm, maybe not. Do you like boats, Betty?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been on one.”

Sinclair gasped. “Never?! Well, I’ll have to take you soon. It’s much nicer in summer, of course, but just bring a warm coat and the autumn air’ll hardly bother you. We could go for a walk and a picnic too! Is that the crossword you’re doing?”

He sat himself down next to her, and Betty got a whiff of his cologne. He smelled like bergamot, which suited him perfectly. He was also dressed in dark brown chinos and a blindingly white shirt. It wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top, leaving a bit of chest peeking out, and Betty was a little disappointed not to see any chest hair poking out. Was he naturally hairless, or did he wax?

She mentally slapped herself. Stop thinking about a married man’s chest hair, she told herself, oblivious to the fact that Sinclair, in that very same moment, was trying very hard not to glance at the modest amount of cleavage that her V-neck t-shirt was showing off.

“Ooh, four down, gained independence from the Soviet Union this year, seven letters, third letter L. That’s Belarus,” Sinclair said confidently.

“No, the last letter’s A, see? It must be Moldova.”

“Of course, silly me. So many new countries this year, it’s hard to keep track! What’s the latest? Tajikistan, wasn’t it?”

“Armenia. I think Turkmenistan will be any day now, too.”

Sinclair looked at her, impressed. “You’re quite smart, aren’t you, Betty?”

“No, I’m very smart,” she said teasingly. “But you don’t have to be smart to read the news. There are new countries popping up left and right lately, it’s difficult to not know about them.”

“Some people have more important things to worry about,” said Natalie from the doorway, and Betty wondered how long she’d been standing there, watching them. She hoped she hadn’t seen her eyes wandering down to her husband’s chest, because that would have been awkward.

“Nats!” Sinclair grinned as he looked up to see his wife standing there - if there was any awkwardness, he was completely oblivious. “Come help us with the crossword!”

Please don’t, Betty begged silently.

“Oh, you know I hate the crossword puzzles, Sinclair, they make me feel so stupid. I hardly think this new friend of yours will enjoy it either.”

“I love the Times crossword, actually,” Betty interjected. “I do it every day. I haven’t had a chance to do today’s yet as I’ve been with this one all day.”

“Oh, no! I never wanted to separate you from the crossword!” Sinclair gasped. “You should have said, I’d have brought the paper with me and we could have done it at breakfast!”

Natalie frowned and looked between the two of them. “You had breakfast together?” she asked haughtily.

“Oh, yes, and it would have been lunch too but I talked her ear off all morning - you know what I’m like - then we went for a drive, then by the time I’d stopped talking about cars it was teatime! So we haven’t had any lunch either, I’m starving. In fact - let me go see how Mei-Li’s doing with the food.”

“Oh, don’t start eating before we even have company!” Natalie complained as Sinclair stood.

“Nonsense,” he replied, “we have company. Betty’s here. Mei-Li! Any sandwiches I can nick before tea?”

He disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving Betty and Natalie alone. Betty quickly buried her head back in the crossword again, anxious not to look her new friend’s wife in the eye. It was silly, because the woman wasn’t psychic, she wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at Betty that she was developing a crush on her husband. But even so, she could feel Natalie’s accusatory stare from across the room.

“Sinclair tells me you’re a new friend,” Natalie said stiffly. “You met at a bookshop in the city?”

“My bookshop, yes,” Betty replied, glancing up only briefly before going back to her crossword. “I’ve not opened yet, but he saw me setting up and came to have a look. I’ve not been able to shake him since.”

“Hmph. Yes, well, that’s how Sinclair makes friends. Picks someone out and doesn’t leave them alone. Usually people he finds ‘interesting.’ What’s so interesting about you?”

“I don't know. I think I’m pretty boring, but I imagine most people think that about themselves. Maybe ask him.”

“Yes. Maybe I will.”

Betty was never any good at reading people’s tone of voice, but she got the impression Natalie was suspicious of her. She looked up at her just as Sinclair came back in, scoffing a sandwich, followed by two men and two women, who were then followed by Mei-Li, who was carrying a tray of tea.

“Everyone’s here!” Sinclair announced proudly. “Everyone, this is —“

“Elizabeth,” Betty said quickly. She folded up the newspaper and set it aside to make room for the tray of tea. “Elizabeth Bennett.”

“Right!” Sinclair agreed, fortunately catching on, although he looked at her quizzically. “Elizabeth, this is Arthur and his wife Tabitha, and this is Oliver and his wife Penelope. And this is Natalie - and I’m Sinclair - and that’s Mei-Li!” He added with a grin. “And you’re Elizabeth. That’s everyone! Sit, sit, everybody, don’t be shy now.”

To Betty’s surprise, Sinclair made a beeline around the table to sit next to her - entirely on the other side of the table to Natalie. The other two couples sat either side of the table between Natalie and Sinclair. If they saw anything amiss in Sinclair’s behaviour, they didn’t show it.

“Did you finish the crossword?” Sinclair said sadly, looking around for the paper.

“Oh, no, I just put it aside when you came in.”

“Right, we don’t want to get tea on it. We’ll finish it afterwards. Mei-Li, the sandwiches, please! I’m starving, are you starving, Be - Elizabeth?”

“Ravished,” she admitted. “Didn’t you hear my stomach growling in the drive over?”

“It was probably drowned out by my stomach growling. If I don’t get my three meals a day, plus snacks, I simply waste away.”

“That’s not true, Sinclair,” Natalie said. “I keep telling you you need to start that diet. He always says tomorrow,” she added to Tabitha next to her, “but tomorrow never does come.”

Betty looked at Sinclair. He wasn’t even slightly overweight. If anything, for his age, he was quite skinny. “You don’t need to go on a diet,” she said. “You look great.”

“See!” Sinclair exclaimed, pointing at her. “Elizabeth doesn’t think I need to go on a diet. I think you just got yourself a promotion to new best friend, Miss Bennett.”

“Why, thank you, Mr Bryant.”

Sinclair grinned, then his eyes lit up as Mei-Li brought in a tray of sandwiches and started laying out plates for everyone. Betty watched carefully. She knew that rich people had weird rules about table manners, so she was going to copy what everyone else did, and since no one was reaching for any food or tea, she kept her hands to herself, though she desperately wanted a sandwich. She could also feel Natalie staring daggers at her, and she didn’t want to give her any reason to call her out for any faux-pas.

Food, it seemed, was the only way to shut Sinclair up. He groaned with pleasure when he bit into his sandwich - a sound which Betty was definitely going to remember for later, as she wondered whether Natalie ever made him moan like that. Probably not. Natalie was probably the type of housewife who never wanted sex with her husband, and only did it out of duty.

Betty tried to ignore the images that were running through her head, but once her mind got fixated on picturing something, she often found it difficult to stop. She couldn't help imagining Sinclair on top of her, his body pressed close to hers as he made those same moans. If she could ever make him moan like a sandwich could, she would have succeeded in life.

She dared to glance up at Natalie as she helped herself to a sandwich. Natalie paid no mind to Mei-Li pouring tea for her - her sight was set straight on Betty, her gaze sharp and accusatory, as if she knew exactly what was going through Betty’s mind.

Betty decided it was best not to engage. She tried to shake the images in her mind by listening to the conversation at the table, but she discovered that all anyone had to talk about was the latest gossip about people she didn’t know. So she kept quiet, not wanting to embarrass herself or Sinclair by saying the wrong thing.

Noticing she was being quiet, Oliver - or it might have been Arthur, Betty wasn’t sure which was which - turned to her and said, “So, Elizabeth, I understand you’re a new friend of Sinclair’s. Don’t worry, you’re not the first to get swept up in his tide - ‘Clair makes friends everywhere he goes.”

“Not true!” Sinclair insisted through a mouthful of sandwich. He swallowed, then continued, “I only make friends with interesting people. It’s not my fault if there are interesting people everywhere!”

“So where did you two meet, then?” Oliver or Arthur asked.

“Elizabeth’s opening a new bookshop in town!” Sinclair announced with excitement. “It’s on Cornelia Street, you know where the old record shop used to be? I went past on my lunch yesterday, saw the lights on and simply had to pop my head in and say hello.”

“More like you barged in and told me the entire history of the building before I’d had a chance to ask who you were and what you were doing in my shop,” Betty responded, earning a round of laughter from everyone at the table (except Natalie).

“That sounds like Sinclair!” Penelope (Tabitha?) chimed in. “Next thing you know, he’s carrying you off to all his latest social events.”

“And does your husband know you’re here?” Natalie asked curtly. “He must be concerned if you’re going off with a strange man so suddenly.”

“Oh, I’m not married,” Betty replied, forcing herself to look at Natalie and smile politely.

“Then who owns the shop? Your father?”

“No, I do. It’s mine.”

“Oh,” Natalie said with evidently dispassionate surprise. “I didn’t know you were allowed to own your own shop.”

“Of course I can. Women are allowed to own property, if that’s what you mean.”

“Yes, but all women?”

“What do you mean, all women?”

There was a sudden tense silence around the table. Even Sinclair was quiet. Natalie glanced around, her red cheeks visible even under her thick layer of foundation.

“I mean –”

“Let’s go for a walk!” Sinclair announced suddenly, standing up and clapping his hand decisively. “Yes, a nice stroll in the autumn air before the rain comes will do us all good. Get your coats on.”

Desperate to get out of the awkward situation, Natalie and the two couples got up as quickly as they could and went to find their coats. Betty, meanwhile, not having brought a coat, was left still sitting with her cheeks burning.

Sinclair plopped himself back down. “Sorry, Betty, she didn’t mean to imply anything. Natalie’s not as - ah - well-read as you and I, you see, and –”

“It’s not about being well-read, Sinclair, it’s about having bloody manners,” Betty replied bitterly. “If a person says they own a shop, it should be a reasonable assumption that they’re allowed to do so.”

“Yes, well… she didn’t mean any harm, I promise.”

“Whatever. Can you take me home after this walk, please?”

“Alright,” Sinclair agreed sadly. “But I want your company the entire time, please. And I promise to try my best to shut up. I still want to know so much about you!”

---

Sinclair hadn’t been lying - he really did try his best to shut up and only speak to ask questions. But as they meandered down by the river, he couldn’t help pointing out interesting things he saw.

“Oh, look at that little family of swans! Did you know a group of swans is called a bevy? Oh, sorry, I interrupted you again, didn’t I? You were telling me about your name.”

Betty really didn’t mind Sinclair interjecting with his facts, but she continued, “There’s not much more to tell. Mum was an Austen fan who married a man named Bennett. She saw the opportunity and took it.”

“And when did you start going by Betty?”

“I was always Liz or Lizzie growing up. If you ever meet my parents, you have to call me Lizzie, or they’ll go mental. They hate Betty. But when I started working at the library I knew everyone would see the connection so I thought I’d try a variation on my name that’s not so common.”

“Your parents hate Betty?!” Sinclair said with a gasp. “That’s an outrage! I’ll have to tell Mr and Mrs Bennett that Betty is a wonderful name for a wonderful lady. I won’t really, of course, I’ll be very respectful when I meet them. If I meet them. Do they live nearby?”

“They’re in Cornwall. They moved down there when Grandad retired so they could be near him for emergencies. But they love it down there, they’ve turned into proper country folk, I don’t expect they’ll ever come back to London.”

They reached a small bridge and slowed to a stop as they waited for the rest of their party to catch up, who were very far behind.

“Come on, slowpokes!” Sinclair called jovially. Then, quieter, he said to Betty, “I hope they don’t hurry up, actually, I like it just being us. If I’d known I’d meet you, I’d have never planned this tea and we could have had all day together. Are you free tomorrow as well?”

“Not tomorrow, I’ve got a lot to do still. Maybe next weekend?”

“Next weekend? Impossible, I’ll miss you too much. I’ll come and visit during my lunch hour. We can go somewhere different for lunch every day, and I won’t hear anything about paying, you can pay me back with a book if you must. But I believe in spending money, not hoarding it, and I like to spend it on friends. And you’re my friend, so I want to buy you lunch.”

“I won’t argue with free food,” Betty said with a laugh. “And you’re free to treat my shop like a library. I’ll even give you a membership card.”

“Ooh, I can be the first certified member of - wait, what are you actually going to call it?”

“Well, Grandad’s shop was called For the Love of Music, so I thought I’d call it For the Love of Books.”

“That’s a great name!”

“Sinclair!” Natalie complained as she and the others caught up with them. “Do you have to walk so fast?”

“Sorry, Nats, there’s just so much I wanted to show Betty!”

“You’re spending so much time with your new friend, don’t forget your wife’s here too!” Natalie put her arm around his waist as she spoke as a clearly insecure attempt at marking her territory, as if Betty was a threat. “Come on, darling, let’s walk together.”

“Oh - yes, alright,” Sinclair agreed, and Betty could tell by the tone of surprise in his voice that she never asked to walk together.

As the couple led on ahead, Sinclair’s pace significantly slowed now to match Natalie’s, Betty tried to eavesdrop on them, but Tabitha apparently decided now she wanted to chat, and so Betty found herself trying to believably feign interest in talk of coats and shoes while also listening to Sinclair and Natalie’s conversation.

“…just need to be careful, that’s all,” Natalie was saying. “She’s young and not … might start to think she belongs here.”

“She’s my friend … have to feel threatened …”

“I don’t … her type get violent when they’re upset …”

“What do you mean, her type?”

“You know … all over the news … barely know her.”

“I like her.”

“You like everyone.”

“That’s not true.”

Their conversation faded as Betty’s pace slowed until she was lagging behind the group, suddenly feeling a heavy weight over her. By the time she got back to the house, Natalie and the others were already sat in the conservatory laughing about something, and Sinclair was stood outside, waiting.

“Didn’t wait for me, I hope,” Betty said half-heartedly.

“Of course I did. Do you still want me to drive you home?”

“Oh - I dunno, it’s pretty far. Maybe Mei-Li can drive me…”

“Nonsense. I promised I’d drive you home and I will.”

“But your friends -“

Sinclair waved his hand dismissively. “Boring. I’d rather be with you for the next hour. Either you stay here with me or I drive you home. Which will it be?”

Betty rolled her eyes, but she smiled. “Drive me home, then.”

---

Something must have seriously been going on in Sinclair’s head, because for the first twenty minutes of the drive, he didn’t say anything, just listened to the radio. Betty watched the world go by out of the window, the houses getting gradually smaller as they got closer to the city.

“Sinclair, how long have you and Natalie been married?” Betty asked eventually, breaking the silence.

“Twelve years.”

The answer was short, concise, and very much not like Sinclair at all.

“Do you love her as much as you did then?”

Sinclair glanced at her, frowning. “Why?” he asked.

“I’m not the same person I was twelve years ago. Are you the same person you were? Is she? How do you know you’re going to love who somebody becomes?”

“I suppose you don’t. You can only love who they are in that moment, and when they change, you change together and fall in love with every version of them… or you don’t.”

“And do you love this version of Natalie?”

“Are you asking me if I love my wife, Betty?”

“Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like her?”

He hesitated.

“I don’t like her,” Betty admitted. “I don’t think she liked me very much either.”

“You got off on the wrong foot. I’m sure she feels bad for mistaking you for staff…”

“She didn’t apologise.”

“No.” Sinclair’s knuckles tightened on the wheel slightly. “Natalie doesn’t like to apologise.”

“We were going to have dinner tonight.”

“We were.” If Sinclair noticed the change of subject, he didn’t mention it. “We still can. Why don’t we have dinner at yours? If you’re not tired of me yet.”

“I could never tire of you.”

Sinclair chuckled. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he warned her. “You’ll find me very difficult to get rid of.”

“My place is a mess, I’m still half in boxes. Another night?”

“Alright. Another night.”

Betty smiled. The sun had set, she was sleepy from all the food, and they still had half an hour left, so she closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep.

---

“Oh, Sinclair!”

“Mmm… Betty…”

Even though he wasn’t quite sure how they’d got there, Sinclair was nevertheless enjoying himself. He thought he must have pulled over somewhere, one thing led to another and now they were in the back seat of the Alpha Romeo, making out sloppily. If there was anyone nearby, Sinclair didn’t care - he was enjoying himself too much. Betty had finally found out she could shut him up by smothering his mouth with hers, and she was taking full advantage of it.

Her clothes were off. When had her clothes come off? Never mind, because she looked gorgeous, her hair blowing in the breeze thanks to the open-top car. She sank down onto him with ease, and Sinclair let out a moan of satisfaction. She bounced on him so perfectly, her head thrown back in ecstasy, her breasts at just the right height to bury his face in them, nipples hitting his cheeks with each bounce.

She felt good - so damn good - and her moans were delectable. Sinclair held her tight around the waist and thrust upwards into her, desperately chasing his high. He wanted her to cum around his length, to mix her juices with his as he came inside her. He was close, so close, and he mumbled her name against her skin as he felt his cock readying itself to explode. He looked up at her, one nipple caught in his mouth - tasting strangely like cotton - and his orgasm ripped through him as he woke, his moan muffled by the corner of the pillow that was in his mouth, and Sinclair felt a sticky, warm sensation against his stomach as his seed spurted out. He clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to face where he was, trying desperately to hold onto the image of dream Betty’s ecstatic face. But it was fading fast, and trying to recall the details of his dream was like trying to hold water in his palm.

He lay there panting for a few seconds, then opened his eyes and saw, with a sigh of relief, that Natalie hadn’t come to bed yet. He was alone.

He reached over to switch the lamp on and was finally able to see the mess he’d made - his own sticky cum on his stomach, still dripping onto the bedsheets. He swore under his breath and got up, trying not to let any more fall onto the sheets, then dashed into the ensuite bathroom to clean himself up.

As he sat on the toilet, dabbing at his skin with a hot towel, the details of his dream began to come back to him.

He’d dreamt of Betty. Betty in the car, kissing him… Betty naked in the car, fucking him. Fuck, he’d dreamt of her riding him and rubbing her breasts in his face at the same time.

“Stop it, you,” he admonished his cock as it twitched at the memory of the dream. “What are you doing, dreaming of her? She’s not your wife. She’s fifteen years your junior. She is not your wife. You’re a goddamn pervert, Sinclair.”

Never mind that she’d touched his knee in the car yesterday and sent sparks flying in his loins, or that she listened to every word he said like it was gospel, or that her eyes sparkled and lit up when she laughed.

“Still not your wife,” he reminded himself. “She’s not Natalie.”

It was just a dream. Dreams meant nothing. He’d once dreamt he was trapped inside a giant marshmallow and had to eat his way out; that didn’t mean he wanted it to happen. Okay, maybe that would be fun. But people dreamed about random things all the time! It didn’t mean he wanted to act on those feelings.

But the orgasm had been very real, and despite his best efforts, Sinclair couldn’t get the dream out of his head. When Natalie finally came to bed, he pretended to be asleep, as if being awake would give him away. He reached out to put an arm around her, but she rolled away as soon as his hand touched her waist, and so he was left to lie there in his own shame until he fell back asleep.

The next day was food shopping day. Natalie never came, but Mei-Li did, as she knew better than either of them what was and wasn’t in the cupboards. What Sinclair would do without her, he had no idea. He had once done the shopping on his own when Mei-Li was ill, and received a barrage of complaints from Natalie when he came back with a lot of sugary treats and nothing they actually needed. As if he could be expected to know what was in the cupboards when he wasn’t at home!

They had a routine now. Mei-Li gave him his own list and let him loose down one half of the shop; she, not needing a list with her brilliant memory, took the other half. They met in the middle, Mei-Li with her half of the shopping and Sinclair with his half plus whatever fun treats he’d found along the way.

In the cereal aisle, Sinclair caught sight of a woman from behind around the same height as Betty, with similar hair, and for a second his heart skipped a beat when he thought it was her. But then he noticed her clothes and realised she worked there. She turned, and sure enough it was a completely different woman who just looked like Betty from behind.

“That’s not Betty, of course it’s not Betty. Betty doesn’t work at Waitrose. She probably doesn’t even shop here. Or does she? No, of course not, she lives in the city. She doesn’t commute an hour a day like I do. Her commute is about thirty seconds. That must be nice, to be able to get up five minutes before work. I’d probably find a way to be late anyway. I hope she’s alright. Maybe I should call her. No, don’t call her, Sinclair, that’s a stupid idea. What would I even say? ‘Hello, Betty, just checking in. Had any weird dreams last night? I did.’ No, Sinclair, do not tell her about your dream. Definitely don’t tell her you had a wet dream. What are you, twelve? Oh, great, I missed the corn flakes. Stop talking to yourself, Sinclair!”

On the drive back home, Sinclair asked Mei-Li if she believed dreams had meanings. She said sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. Sinclair didn’t find this very helpful so he decided the best thing to do was to go and see Betty on his lunch break tomorrow, then when he saw her he’d remember that he didn’t actually fancy her and it was just a meaningless dream.

There was absolutely nothing that could go wrong with this plan.

[jcniper-backup]

cannibal class - astarion x f!durge

Chapter Count - 12/25

Fic TWs - Dark Urge-typical violence, Canon-typical Trauma, Mentions of Astarion's Backstory, Additional Warnings in Author's Notes, Blood Drinking

Fic Summary -

They did it. They made it to Baldur’s Gate. Upon arriving, Vaelyn remembers her heritage.

Everyone is supportive, until they aren’t.

How can she defy her father when she was the creator of the Absolute?

____

Sequel to: i am hungry (i was born hungry)

prologue

Everyone decided they deserved a break before they got to Baldur’s Gate. There were only two days of walking left for them, and they already knew that there wouldn’t exactly be  time to rest when they got there. With Gortash and Orin the Red to deal with, they would have their hands full. Right now was not the time to think about that, though. They were surrounded by beautiful hills that were luckily not too damaged by the Absolute’s army marching through it. All of them were lazing around a rather slow moving river.

Karlach and Wyll had managed to bully Gale into jumping in with them. “Come on, wiz! You could just magic yourself dry later–” The expression ‘magic yourself dry’ sent Gale on a tangent on how there was actually a proper name for the spell and how to do it that was only ended by Karlach splashing Gale in the face. Shadowheart was sunning herself next to the shore, alongside Jaheira. Lae’zel paced the shore back and forth and back and forth. Vaelyn doubted the gith had ever relaxed a day in her life, but she was contemplating it now. Halsin had turned into a bear and disappeared somewhere along the way.

Despite trying to kill him just yesterday, Astarion’s head was currently resting in Vaelyn’s lap. She smiled down at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to join them?” Astarion asked her. 

“Only if you go with me. I don’t remember if I’ve ever had to swim before.” 

“Ha! Of course. Well, I guess that means we’re both staying dry today.” Vaelyn listened to him sigh, and dimly wondered if he didn’t remember how to swim either. After all, he had been a vampire for two hundred years, and running water was a well-known weakness for them. Would he even have liked swimming in the first place? 

From what little Astarion had told her of his life before Cazador, she doubted that he would’ve even dared to get his hair wet. Perhaps that didn’t matter, though. The ability to be able to choose if he swam was taken from him - that was the thing that hurt the most. 

Absent-mindedly, Vaelyn raked her fingers through his curls. This earned a rather annoyed sound from him. “Is there any reason you’re doing that or are you just trying to sabotage my hair, darling?” 

 She glanced back down at him and extracted her hand from his hair. “Sorry.” 

“I didn’t say stop.” With a roll of her eyes, she continued. It was a relief, being able to do something soft after what had happened. For most of the day, she had refused to touch him at all, until he petulantly dragged her to a suitable resting spot on the shore and made her sit down so he would have a proper pillow. 

You haven’t harmed him. 

You’re doing good. 

Raucous laughter came from the river. Shadowheart had been bullied into going into the river as well, while insisting in increasingly higher octaves that she couldn’t swim, only for Karlach to put her on her shoulders and insist that she wouldn’t drop her. This must have awoken something in Lae’zel, who was now stripping out of her armor and into her underclothes, following them in as well. “How long do you think it will be before Shadowheart and Lae’zel sleep together?” Vaelyn asked.

Astarion barked out a laugh, “I’m very surprised you picked up on that, darling.” 

“I’ve been trying.” After all, these were her friends. She wanted to know what was going on with them. “It’s…still more challenging for me than most other things.” 

Emotions were not simple. They were not things she was afforded before the tadpole and this whole wretched journey, that much she was sure of. Under her Astarion sighed, probably irritated that his light-hearted comment turned into a dark turn in her thoughts. 

 “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” He asked. Before she even said anything, Astarion sat up. “How many times do I need to tell you not to worry about it?”

“You make it sound like worrying about killing you is silly.” Vaelyn hissed. Astarion telling her not to worry about potentially killing him was rich. After all, the reason he sought out this relationship in the first place was for protection. Was he being serious about this now? Was he telling a joke? Vaelyn couldn’t tell. She was too tired and still sore from the day before, and for the first time ever her eyes hurt because she had sobbed in front of him which was mortifying. 

“Okay, maybe it’s not silly to worry but you won’t kill me.” He said it with such conviction. “But really, I don’t think you will. You didn’t last night, and I’m sure we’ll figure out what happened before then.” 

Vaelyn blinked. 

Why was he being so nonchalant about this? 

“Do you really think that attempting to hold a knife to my throat would scare me away? I held a knife to your throat once already and then drained you dry a few nights later. Or did you already forget about that?” Astarion cocked his head to the side, clearly waiting for an answer. 

“You revived me and I forgave–” 

“Then you just would have revived me, and I would have forgiven you. Even if you didn’t, I wouldn’t have held it against you.” The tone of his voice was so genuine that it alarmed her. It made her head reel a little. 

“O-okay,” She sucked in a deep breath. Astarion was looking rather pleased with himself. 

“Now can we go back to what we were doing, I’ve done enough reassurance for one day.” Vaelyn huffed out a small laugh, letting Astarion fall back into her lap. Her hand resumed the job of giving plenty of pets for him. All of it was rather peaceful, letting her slip into a mindless lull where the only thing she was thinking about was the happy sounds coming from her partner and her friends having fun at the river.

The air around them got a little warmer. Vaelyn watched as Aylin and Isobel emerged from somewhere behind the brush a little further down the shoreline. “I think Aylin’s a little too devoted to Isobel for a third, darling.”

 Vaelyn blinked, turning her attention back to Astarion. “What?” 

“You’re staring.” 

“Can you blame me?” 

He thought about it for a minute. “Not really.” 

They went back to their comfortable silence. Vaelyn wished that this was all they had to do. If their days just consisted of relaxing in beautiful places like this, her life would be perfect. She didn’t want to think of the people that betrayed her, or the violence that she was predisposed to. 

Just this. 

This was nice.

[essapedstom]

Part 6. (2)

She asked eyes stuck between being happy and sad. You sighed looking back at kiri and then Jake hoping they'd help you. "Sorry tuk tuk Y/N cannot today she will tomorrow." Neytiri said softly making her way over to took holding her by the shoulders and pulling her away. Tuk looked back at you with sad eyes and you felt a little bad knowing you had upset her. However you were quickly snapped out of it by Jake calling you over to him. "Y/N." "Yes sir." You said turning swiftly still crouched down before standing up straight within the two steps it took for you to get to him using your tail to balance you. "We have to go." He ordered swinging his hand near the entrance where Neteyam still stood, eyes no longer on you but looking at nothing he was thinking about something clearly. You began to walk to the flap preparing yourself for the irritable actions or comments that would be made towards you for the rest of the day. Barging neteyam as you walked past causing him to stumble and snap out of his trance

"Look i'm gonna need the two of you to stop this." Jake called out as the three of you made your way to the hallelujah mountains. Your ears laid flat against your head your tail smacking the floor repeatedly, "Father can we just finish this and go, we do not have to be friends." Neteyam huffed trying to be as calm as possible. You didn't want to be friends with him anyway he's an immoral skxawng (moron) who loved to judge any and everything you did. Some friend he would be. "Hey!" Jake called out making the two of you pause in your steps. "Ive brought you here so this little feud can die. Now i don't know what it'll take but if we have to come here everyday until that happens you'll do it, y'hear me." He said sternly pointing a finger between you and neteyam as he spoke. "Yes sir." "Yes." Neteyam responded you following soon after. "Keep going." You and Neteyam began to walk forward again before getting to the ledge, you looked down admiring the rivers that flowed beneath you and how small the trees look from how high you were. The wind blew gently your hair being pushed slightly across your mouth and nose as you brought one of your fingers over pulling it away from your face producing the smallest smile. The action noticed by Neteyam left him staring for 2 seconds. 2 seconds too long where his father had seen him doing so. The small curve of your gorgeous lips, the fluttering of your long eyelashes as you protected your amber orbs from the wind, the dimple you had on the side of your cheek that was deeper than the dimple on the other side. Neteyam noticed all of this. You looked back at Jake who looked at Neteyam, "Call your Ikrans." The Olo'eyktan ordered. Without questioning you both did so, a few seconds passing before your Ikrans came flying in, yours was first. You silently praised La'aila kissing her and stroking her for beating Seze, Neteyams Ikran at arriving. Soon after Seze joined and neteyam greeted him stroking his beak and mounting him immediately. "The both of you will go to the mountains and feed those who have not been claimed yet." Jake stated causing your tail to stand upright completely still. It was impossible to feed them, they will not even come near you as hard as you tried. "Da-Sir how am i supposed to do that." Neteyam tried to argue. His use of the personal pronoun "i" caught your ears annoying you again. "With Y/N. This is not about doing it alone or seeing who can feed the most, it's about doing it together and making sure all of them are fed." Jake added on not pleased with his son's irregular attitude.

"Will you be coming with us Olo'eyktan?" You questioned praying he would be. "No this is a task i trust the both of you to successfully complete without help." He voiced as he walked towards you with a large sack. You had wondered what was in it as you saw him carrying it the entire time. "Stingbats and prolemuris ayfo (all of them)."  You clutched the knot of the sack securing it in your grip before mounting La'aila also, your long legs swinging over her gracefully settling your hips on her wiggling about rocking them back and forth slightly. Again your actions caught the eye of future Olo'eyktan who cleared his throat looking down at this growing buldge trying to cover it by mentally instructing Seze to walk around near the ledge away from your and your father. Securing your feet onto La'aila you turned to look at Jake. "Good luck kid." He huffed giving a "i trust you." smile and you scrunched up on side of your face lifting your top right lip smiling slightly. "Son." Jake called after neteyam so he would come back. As he did he nodded giving you both the que to go. Both of your Ikrans fell of the ledge soaring straight down near the rocky wall before gaining enough traction and flying upwards again. "Mawey prrnen" (calm baby) You thought as La'aila evened out in her flight causing you to glide through the air perfectly. You were talented on your Ikran there was no denying it.  After a short amount of silent flying neteyam broke it, "There is a quicker way, Come." he called out to you already turning his Ikran in the direction. You didn't know why yet you followed taking a look at his muscular back watching it move and shift as he changed his footing on Seze to gain speed, You did the same. You never would admit it but it was faster, the fastest route you've ever taken. Once you both arrived you hopped off La'aila still holding the sack and disconnecting tsaheylu. After Neteyam had done the same you both sent your Ikrans away not wanting them to disturb the heavy task at hand. Neteyam swiped his knife out of his waistband holding a stance as if he was ready to prance upon his enemy. "Put that back, we are here to feed not kill." You scolded already feeling the difficulty of the day rising. "It is not for killing." Neteyam said back clenching his teeth his accent being even more prominent on his last words not even looking in your direction. He continued to step forwards towards an unexpected Ikran who laid aimlessly. He pounced upon the creature landing on its back. The animal immediately got up on its two legs, standing up straight trying to throw Neteyam off it's back screeching so loud you thought your ear drums would burst. You watched in a mix of unwanted awe and curiosity as you watched him maintain his strong hold on the unruly beast. The Ikran then threw itself off the ledge with neteyam still on its back. "NETEYAM!" You called dropping the bag and quickly stepping towards the ledge. However with the knife still in his hand as his body began to disappear off the edge of the cliff his knife dug deep into the edge of the floating rock you were on stoping him from falling with the Ikran. He huffed pulling his body up from the ledge, His biceps protruding with his veins staring you in the face. Your heart racing and so was his. "Are you crazy why would you do that? You could've been seriously hurt Neteyam." You asked taking a step back giving him space to walk forward, He had grazed his knee pretty badly. You didn't know why but it worried you slightly to see him hurt or even let him die. You brushed it off as genuine feeling not wanting someone to die was normal, everyone feels the same. "Why would you do that?" He repeated to you looking past you towards the bag you dropped, you turned to see the bag being destroyed and torn to pieces by the stray starving Ikrans who ravenously chewed on the dead prolemuris and stingbats that were inside. "Fuck sake." You murmured as you walked over to the eating creatures, as they saw you they flocked away leaving you to salvage whatever you could of the bag and left over things

[thehyppedstories]

The Misconception called SAPA.

The average Nigerian youth is a "relative-creative"; out of his belly flows rivers of Creativity. It's his own way of battling with the day-to-day limitations saddled on him by bad government and ill decisions of his. One of such creative measures to whisk him out of depression and illicit thoughts is the birth of new words with which he makes weighty matters become obscure. One of those trailblazing words has fast become a legend. It boasts of chart topping songs, and has gone as far as hitting the number 1 position on the trends table of the highly competitive and dismissive Twitter-NG on multiple occasions. That word is "SAPA."

As the urban dictionary would have it, Sapa is "a period of lack." A regular Nigerian youth is "sapa-fied" thanks to the high rate of unemployment and low appreciation of talents. The regular person would rather have you employed in a 9-5 job than support your craft. The problem in being a 9-5ier is that it kills talents. It destroys your zeal to become your truest forms. Not only are they "silent killers", 9-5 jobs are hard to come by. Except you have "long legs" you'd walk the streets of Ikeja and Agbara and the only thing you'd return with would be dust on your shoes. It's why many youths have resigned to their fate. However, this state we call Sapa, it has been highly misconstrued. It is highly misunderstood.

Sometime ago, our dear president referred to the Nigerian youths as being "lazy." The response? It was exciting. Nigerians from all works of life came out to show their strength, their strength in creativity, career, education, entrepreneurship and craft. The world at large came to recognize the force called a "Nigerian youth." These same Nigerian youths are seen flying the national flag of our beautiful nations in art, movies, music and sports. This sometimes make me wonder, what spurs the Nigerian youth to success?

Nigerians have a saying, "pikin wey dey find party rice no supposed to fear dance." This could be interpreted to being, he who chases after success should not be scared of adversaries. What are adversaries? Adversaries are many things which we come to put into one term "SAPA." Sapa is account balance of ₦0.00, Sapa is no electricity supply, Sapa is inflated transport fare. When you hear people talk about Sapa, you'd believe it is a demon. No, Sapa is the Nigerian version of tests and trials to a believer. It is the medium by which our skills, talent and resolve are tested.

Today, in Nigerian banks are farmers who are supposed to be producing bags of garri, in the labs are book writers who chose to switch because they were looking for a means of livelihood. Are we not supposed to look Sapa in the face head-on, with boldness and declare to it that it lost before the fight started? The question lies, how do we survive then?

It's simple, you survive when you live, not when you exist. Existence lies in a valueless life. Living on the other end is a state of giving value through your talents and skills. The misconception we had all stemmed from our perception of success, we expected it to be served to us on a platter of gold- this only happens in fairy tales, to the villains. It is not enough to be talented, it is not enough to have the desire to want to be successful. How far are you willing to go to become successful? The one who can sings allows it end there, the one who can write stories comes to build his life around it. That could have worked if we were in a nation where systems had been established. Here, you have to work, but in a bid to not get lost in your work, find temporary jobs or businesses that are in line with your talents and abilities.

Learn skills, there are a million and one platforms out there today that are willing to teach you one thing or another to help you progress in your chosen field. Are you a songwriter or a vocalist? How about you learn mastering of music online. Story writer, have you ever thought of video editing before? The internet is here to make life easier for us, don't allow Instagram be your comfort zone, make it a research ground too.

Sapa should not be the reason why you're finding it hard to survive. Sapa should be a form of inspiration. It should push you to want to give your all and best. It should help open your eyes to the position you find yourself in today, what you're losing and that which you stand to gain if only you decide to stand and push. Sapa is not a demon, it's an angel that wants to direct you to the reality of who you are.

[theunauthorisedauthor]

The River

It’s a dark and cold night, the street is dimly lit with the orange hue of streetlights. Rain is falling slowly, gently. If out for too long I would be soaked to the bone but for now it is no bother. I take no notice to the way the denim of my jeans starts to stick to my skin. That is not important right now.

My pace is slow, there is nowhere i need to be right now. I had left the comfort of my warm bed and ventured outside because I felt a calling. A need to be by the waters edge.

The night is still except from the hum of the occasional car in the distance and the sound of an odd university student still up in their dorm.

I had made it to my destination, a single bench that looked out across the river.

The loudness of my head seemed to dissipate when I came here and that was the reason I came.

The music in my headphones reflect the emotions that I am too stubborn or unable to feel for myself. A calm but melancholic tune which makes me feel oddly at peace with the situation.

I sit for a while, my thoughts somehow racing and completely still at the same time.

I know why I’m here tonight i just don’t want to think about it too much incase it makes me back down.

I breathe in deeply feeling the cold and damp air in my lungs, wondering why the air doesn’t normally taste this sweet.

My hoodie bunches uncomfortably from where I have scrunched my sleeves up but I don’t even think to adjust it.

I roll a cigarette and smoke it while gazing across the water, wanting, hoping that maybe that will fix everything, but it doesn’t it just makes me cough.

I wonder what my loved ones are doing right now and if I should reach out to them but then decide I’d rather not, I don’t want them to pop this little bubble I’m in right now. This is a time for just myself. A moment that if I make it to tomorrow I will think back to for years to come.

But in my selfishness I still crave to say goodbye so I write to them, nothing that could give my plan away but enough to feel closure.

Once i have felt that I have left it long enough and got the experience that I want I make my move.

I stand, my body more tired than it’s felt before, I walk up to the railing.

I stop to consider the choice I am making but only for a second for I had tried so many times for the same exact reason.

I was never cut out for this life and that’s okay because I will be at peace soon.

I’m calm as I grip the ice cold and wet bar of the railing, readying myself for what’s to come.

A brief thought crosses my mind of all the people who have done this and survived and how they say that the second they actually do it they are filled with regret when it’s far too late but I shake those thoughts away and steady myself, readying myself for what’s to come.

I am ready now.

I am lifting myself up onto the railing ready to do it, I imagine what’s about to happen but I won’t let that scare me, it’s now or never and I won’t let this chance slip through my hands.

And then I look down, expecting to see deep, violent water and bracing myself to face my fate but instead I see river bank.

The tide is out and being so caught up in my head and my plans I realise I never checked.

I sink to the floor defeated.

I guess today is not the day I die.

I pick myself up, annoyed with myself but too tired to fight, and take the small walk back to my apartment. I guess tonight wasn’t the night after all.

[inthiseternalmoment]

A cashier (maybe?) flirted with me today and I’m trying to understand my heart

Revisiting my belief of romantic love never happening for me and whatever else my encounters with men the past few days has brought up in me

10/2/2023

Walked along the river walk to enjoy the last few warm days of the year and went to go get boba on the way back. The cashier struck up a conversation with me by asking about my watch and I thought he was kind of cute so I enjoyed going along with it.

I don’t know if he was into me or not, but internally I was feeling excited physically at the prospect 🥴

He even offered to give me a free drink the next time I came in (I was with Aprille so I wasn’t sure if he meant for us or just me, but it was still nice either way). It was through a stutter, and I took it as his possible nerves maybe? It was adorable either way, because I know I still get nervous around handsome guys (at my big age, yes). And I’m not going to be ashamed of that.

This interaction coming so close after meeting new people (with one of them physically catching my eye) has got me wondering where I am with all of this. If I actually met someone who was truly into me, how would that go for me?

Even just this little bit of an interaction was a lot for me to handle, I found myself immediately aroused and I haven’t felt that in a while. It was distracting me the entire way home and I don’t know fully what I’m feeling.

It’s almost like this sense of “don’t feel down if a handsome man you meet doesn’t return the feelings, because there’s something more for you in every moment if you realize it.”

I’m reflecting on this as I write.

One thing that sticks out is that the first man was mixed asian and the man today seemed full asian and I wonder if there is a significance there? With my track record being only white men, I got excited these last few days at the prospect of having romantic/intimate experiences with men of color. I have always found them attractive but the opportunity never fully arose and I had my own things to process about my relationship with my own ethnicity.

I’m reflecting now to the time back when I was dating…which is now 4 years ago? That’s a long time to go without any romantic intimacy whatsoever.

So to have a tiny taste of that the past few days has been strange. It’s a little as if I’m back in my college self? The one who dated and was having so many new and different experiences with romance?

And it’s not like I want to get my hopes up, but I saw an intuitive on TikTok talking about how this month could see romantic soulmates coming together. I don’t know. I’ve heard that many many many times before and things didn’t really pan out that way, so I wonder why this would be any different?

…

We’re watching Fruits Basket again for the first time since my awakening. I’ve been crying almost every episode this time, which is a huge departure from how I responded to it the first time.

I bring this up because I want to channel the main character as I process whatever these last few almost romantic have meant to me.

I want to be in gratitude that I can feel physical attraction in this way still. That this part of me wasn’t lost from years of inactivity or neglect.

I think part of me even had a shame or annoyance with it, because I continually viewed it as a nuisance for years.

In a way, I wished for a while that I could just “turn off” my interest in men altogether. I thought that it would make my life easier, because it was so difficult to be drawn to so many men whenever I was out and not have anything “happen.”

I think in that way, I believe that I will never truly experience real love with a man.

The psychic in edgewater even saw I had this belief. The same one who encouraged me to start this journal.

Why do I think this?

…

I think it started young. Looking back, I was always drawn to my male friends in a way that was different to the way I was drawn to female friends. And then when sexual feelings began in adolescence, I think I started to pull into myself.

I knew I was different. I knew I needed to be hidden somehow, because the world that was around me didn’t seem to have space for my confusing feelings.

It might have been then that I started forming this idea that my feelings towards guys would never be reciprocated. I had already began locking part of myself away.

I thought maybe in college that was completely unlocked, because I started to see that my belief wasn’t true. Guys did like me back (at least some of them), and I shared many beautiful experiences with them.

So why is this still coming up?

At least some of them.

What does that mean? Was it that all guys I was interested in needed to reciprocate? No. Maybe it was that the ones I was interested in as people in my social sphere (acquaintances or new friends) were not interested (like back in college when I told guys I was interested and got politely declined).

Maybe there is something there with the idea that my feelings/romance could only be relegated to dating apps, because I bought into the notion that “the world isn’t made for me so these apps are crucial if we want to have these experiences.”

I don’t want to believe that anymore. I actually don’t. So maybe this is some residual hanging around from back in college. I looked at that time with so much love for what it did for my sad gay heart. I finally had gay experiences and that was life changing! But I haven’t had any since then, and I’m still applying my spiritual understandings to any leftover beliefs from that time.

I think I’m onto something about experiencing romance from people I meet and befriend organically as opposed to meeting through a dating app where the intention is just that.

I think I want the experience of befriending people with shared interests – and having one of those friendships expand into a mutual romantic relationship.

…

The cashier today actually had someone (who left before we arrived) leave a note saying “ur cute” and their phone number on a piece of paper. I was processing that happening at the same time I was finding myself interested in talking to him. What is the synchronicity here?

I don’t know that I’ve fully gotten to the bottom of this tonight, but I am still a little shaken from the past few days and what they have done for my (maybe not sad but something else?) gay heart. In some ways my gay heart is a little sad, but my healing has helped mend that in some ways.

And in terms of my life moving forward, it’s not like I have to choose between untethering and romantic love.

I believe they’re the same thing.

[itsalwayswellattheworldsend]

Chapter 18 - Of Ralph in the Castle of Abundance

Text Audio

Synopsis:

Ralph explores the Castle and its surroundings, talking to its subjects and avoiding (as much as possible) the bothersome old woman who won’t stop doting on him.

Summary:

"For that," said the carline, "thou needest neither sword nor helm. I was afeard that thou wert about departing, and thy departure would be a grief to my heart: in the deep wood thou mightest be so bestead as to need a sword in thy fist; but what shouldst thou do with it in this Plain of Abundance, where are nought but peaceful husbandmen and frank and kind maidens? and all these are as if they had drunk a draught of the WELL AT THE WORLD'S END."

The sun shone brightly on the plains amidst the wildwood when Ralph awoke and got up to look out of the window (for the room was at the top of the house and no part of the castle lay between it and the fields). It was a little after noon on a fair June day, and Ralph had slept well as was good for a young man. The light wind brought sweet scents of early summer into the room, chief among them being the smell of new-cut grass, for all around the wide meadows the men and women were beginning to harvest the hay, and as late as it was in the day, more than one blackbird was singing from the castle’s garden. Ralph sighed in happiness this all brought him before he fully remembered where he was or what had happened to him recently; but as he stood at the window and gazed over the meadows, the memories came back to him He sighed once more for the desire that came into his heart—and he smiled in embarrassment, though there was no one to see him—and he wonder if there were any among the hay-harvesting women who were as fair as the yellow-clad thrall-women of the Burg; and as he turned from the window, a new hope set his heart to beating, for he thought that he had been brought to this house so that he could meet someone who would change his life completely.

So he got dressed and went down to the hall and looked for Roger, but did not find him, nor anyone else except for the old woman, who was coming out of the cellar, whom he asked about Roger. She said: “He has been gone for about six hours, but left a message for you, lord. He asks that you wait here for him for at least two days, after which you’re welcome to leave if you want. But as for me,” (and here she smiled on him as sweetly as her old, wrinkled face possibly could) “I say you should stay more than two days if Roger doesn’t come, and as long as you are here I will take the very best care of you. And who knows, you may find good adventure here; it’s happened to other good knights who have stayed here, or nearby.”

“Thank you, mother,” said Ralph, “and it is likely that I’ll stay here longer than two days if adventure does not find me before then. But at least I will stay to eat lunch here today.”

“That is good, fair lord,” said the woman. “If you want to walk in the fields for half an hour I’ll have it ready for you. In fact, I would have readied it before now, but I did not want to wake you up. And the saints be praised for the long sleep which has put good color into your cheeks.” Saying this, she hurried off to the cellar, leaving Ralph laughing at her outspoken and flattering words.

Then he went out of the hall and the castle (for the doors were open), and there was no one to be seen in or around the house. So he walked here and there and saw the herds of cows in the pasture, and the hay-harvesting folk beyond them, and the sounds of their voices came to him and the little gusts of wind that were blowing. He thought he would talk to some of these people before long, and he also noted that between the river and the wood many well-built cottages belonging to the farmers, and a little church among them, white and delicately designed. But for now he headed towards the river because it was a hot day. He came to a pool a little below where a wooden bridge crossed the water, around which willows were growing, which had not been cut back for perhaps eight years, and the water was clear as glass with a bed of fine sand. He swam there, and as he played in the water he thought about the long, gentle areas of Upmeads Water, and swimming down amongst the water weeds, while the reed sparrows sang around him on an early July morning. When he stood on the grass again—with the bright weather and beautiful land, the freshness of the water, the good rest he had had, and the hope of adventure to come—he felt as if he had never been happier in his whole life. Altogether it was a great relief to him that he had escaped the chaos of the war between the Burg of the Four Friths and the men of the Dry Tree, and the Wheat-wearers, the slavery, the whipping, and the burning, the hard life of that walled town and fortress.

When he came back to the castle gate, the woman was there at the little gate looking about for him, hoping to bring him in to eat. And when she saw him so happy, smiling and his eyes bright, she also became happy and said: “Truly, it is a pity that there is no young woman to look at you and love you today. Any maiden would travel far to kiss your mouth, fair lad. But now come eat your meal, so that you can grow fairer and live longer for it.”

He laughed happily and went into the hall with her, and now it was all set with decorations of well-embroidered cloth, and on the walls hung a tapestry of the Story of Alexander. He sat at the table and the meal was delicious and the old woman served him, always praising him with excessive flattery as he ate, until he asked her to leave him be.

After the meal he rested for a while, then called to the old woman and asked her to bring his sword and helmet. “Why?” she asked. “Where are you going?”

“I want to walk around and enjoy the air,” he said.

“Are you going to the wildwood?”

“No, mother,” he said. “I just want to walk around the meadow and see the people harvesting hay.”

“For that,” said the old woman, “You need neither sword nor helm. I was afraid that you were getting ready to leave, and your departure would sadden me greatly. In the deep woods, you might encounter need for a sword, but what should you do with it in the Plain of Abundance, where there are only peaceful farmers and honest and kind maidens? And all of these are as if they had drunk from the Well at the World’s End.”

Ralph started as she said the phrase, but held is tongue for a moment. Then he said: “And who is the lord of this fair land?”

“There is no lord, but a lady,” said the woman.

“And what is she called?”

“We call her the Lady of Abundance.”

“Is she a good lady?” he asked.

“She is my lady,” said the woman, “and she treats me well, and there is not a man in this country who does not speak well of her—perhaps too well.”

“Is she fair to look at?”

“Of women, there is none fairer,” said the woman; “As for men, that is a different matter.”

Ralph was silent again for a moment, then he said: “What is the Well at the World’s End?”

“They talk about it here,” she said, “stuff that’s too long to talk about right now, but there is a book in this house that talks about it; I know it by its cover, though I cannot read it. I will look for it for you tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said; “And I hope you remember to look for it, but now, I’m off.”

“Yes,” said the woman, “but wait a moment.” Then she went to the cellar and came back with a garland of roses from the garden, intermingled with green leaves, and she said: “The sun is hot today; wear this to shade yourself from it. I know you would be going out today, so I made it for you this morning, and when I was young they called me the garland-maker. This is better summer-wear than your helmet.

He thanked her and put it on, smiling, but somewhat ruefully, for he thought to himself “This woman is too old that I should be wearing a love-token from her.”

But when it was on his head, the old woman clapped her hands and cried: “Oh, there we go! Now you are like the image of St Michael at Our Lady of the Thorn: there is nothing as lovely as you are. I wish my Lady could see you like this; surely it would gladden her heart. And you are well-dressed, besides.”

Indeed, he was wearing good clothes, for his overcoat was new and made of fine green cloth, and the coat-of-arms of Upmead was done on it, which is an apple tree on golden ground, standing by a river.

He laughed a little uneasily at her words, and then left the castle again, going straight for the hay-harvesting folk on the other side of the river: for the near side was all livestock and sheep. But at the point where he crossed, the winding stream brought it near to the castle gate, so he came up to the country folk and greeted them, and they responded in kind. They were good-looking and well-built, both men and women, bright and happy of disposition and well-dressed as workers in the fields. So Ralph want from one to another and chatted with them, and was pleased to watch them work for a little while, though he preferred to speak with some more than others of them. At last, under the shade of a tall elm tree, he saw an old man sitting and looking at the clothes of the harvesters, and their food and drink, and Ralph came up to him and greeted him.

The old man blessed him and said: “Are you dwelling in my lady's castle, fair lord?”

“For a little while, at least,” said Ralph.

The old man said: “We thank you for coming to see us, and it seems to me that you look worthy to stay in my Lady’s House.”

“And what do you say?” said Ralph. “Is she a good lady, and kind?”

“Oh yes, yes,” said the man.

“You mean, I suppose, that she is pretty to look at, and soft-spoken when she is happy?”

“I mean far more than that,” said the man; “yes, she is angelic in her beauty, and her voice is like the music of heaven: but also her actions, and the kindness she has for us poor farmers, are well-matched to that loveliness.”

“Are you her servants?” asked Ralph; “Or what?”

“We are free men and vassals; there is no slavery in our land.”

“Do you live peaceful lives?”

“There have been times where cruel battles were fought in these meadows, and many poor souls perished in them, but that was before the coming of the Lady of Abundance.”

“And when was that?” asked Ralph.

“I don’t know,” said the old man. “I was born and raised in peaceful times; I fell in love and wedded in peaceful times; I had children in peaceful times, and they live around me in peaceful times. When I go, it will be in peaceful times.”

“But then,” said Ralph (and a grievous fear had grown in his heart), “is the Lady of Abundance old?”

“I have seen her when I was young and also since I have grown old, and she has always been fair and lovely, slender-handed, as straight as a spear, as sweet as white clover, gentle-voiced and kind, and dear to our hearts.”

“All right,” said Ralph, “and she doesn’t always live in this castle; where else does she live?”

“I don’t know,” said the man, “but it should be in heaven, for when she comes to us, all our happiness increases by half.”

“But, father, “said Ralph, “Could it not be that there has been more than one Lady of Abundance that you have seen in your lifetime, and that this one that you have seen recently is the granddaughter of the one you first saw? What do you think about that?”

The old man laughed, “No, no, it’s not like that; there has never been another like her, in body and voice, heart and soul. It is as I have said; she’s the same as she always has been.”

“And when,” said Ralph, his heart thumping, “does she come here? Is it at certain times of the year?”

“No, it is from time to time, and in all seasons,” said the man, “and she is as fair when she walks over the snow as when she is set amidst the June daisies.”

Now Ralph was so full of wonder that he hardly knew what to say, but he thought about that open, rocky land on the other side of the forest where that broad river flowed, and he said: “And that land to the north beyond the wildwood, can you tell me about its wars, and if they were the same wars that tormented this land?”

The old man shook his head, “As to the land beyond the woods, I know nothing about it, for we have never go beyond the woods; No, mostly we only go a little way into them, no further than where we can see the glimmer of open daylight through its trees—the daylight of the land of Abundance—and that is enough for us.”

“Well,” said Ralph, “I thank you for the story you have told me, and I wish you more years of peace.”

“And to you, young man, I wish a good wish indeed: that you may see the Lady of Abundance here before you depart.”

The old man’s words made Ralph’s heart thump and his cheeks flush again, and he went back to the castle somewhat quickly, for he thought to himself—with the foolishness of those in love—that she might already be there, and he absent from her. Yet when he came to the castle gate, he doubted himself and he did not enter at once, but turned to go around the wall to the northwest.  In the castle, he saw no one except for the old woman, who was sitting at a window looking out, and who nodded at him, but in the pasture all around there were cowheards and shepherds, both men and women; and at the north-west corner, where the river drew quite close to the wall, he came upon tow women of the field-folk fishing with a rod in a quiet pool of the stream.

He greeted them, and they, who were young and pretty, returned his greeting, but were shy because of his gallant presence, and he was shy because of the thoughts he had been thinking and the sight of their beauty. So he passed by at first without more than greeting, but eventually he came back again, for he longed to know more about the Lady whose arrival he awaited. They stood smiling and blushing as he came up to them, and they paid little attention to their rods.

Ralph said, “Fair maidens, do you know at all when the Lady of the castle is expected to return?”

They were slow to answer, but at last one said: “No, fair sir, people like us know very little about the coming and going of great folk.”

“Ralph smiled at her kindness and beauty, and said: “Won’t you be happy when she arrives?”

But she did not answer, only looked at him steadily with her big, grey eyes fixed in wonder, while the other one looked down as if intent on their fishing tools.

Ralph did not know how to ask another question, so he turned around with a word of farewell and went on steadily around the wall.

And now the desire in his heart for that lady grew. He had only seen her once, and that in a strange way, but he wondered to himself if the devil had put that desire in him, for it might be that this woman he had set his heart on was no woman at all, but a devil, and one of the goddesses of the ancient world, and his heart was sore and troubled by many doubts and hopes and fears; but he said to himself that when he saw her then he could judge between good and evil, and could pursue her or leave, and that the sight of her would cure all.

Thinking that, he walked away quickly and was soon around at the castle gate again, and he entered into the hall where the old woman was working on some household matter. Ralph nodded at her and hurried off to avoid the possibility of getting stuck talking to her, and started going from room to room to learn the castle. He came into the guard room and found the walls hung with armor and weapons, clean and cared for, though he never saw any fighters there, nor anyone but the old woman. He went up the stairs to the tops of the walls and went into the towers, finding more weapons of all kinds in them, all set up as though ready for a battle. Then he went down into the walkway around the hall and entered a door there—which was latched but not locked—and went up a small staircase into a room, which was the best and richest room of all. Its ceiling was decorated with gold and blue from overseas, and its floor was a delicately-made mosaic. On the dais was a throne carved from ivory, and above it a canopy of embroidered silk of the best kind. Around the walls of that room, there were marvelous tapestries, which showed the greenwood and inside it, a garden of potted plants, yard with goats, and a little thatched house. Among all of this, two women were depicted over and over again, one old and the other young. The old one was dressed in grand clothing, with gold chains and brooches and rings, and she sat by the door, or stood looking as the young one worked, spinning thread or digging in the yard, or milking the goats, and other things, and she was dressed is poor and scanty clothes.

Ralph did not know what this meant, but when he had looked at the images for a long time, he said to himself that if whoever had made the tapestry had not modeled the young woman after the likeness of the Lady he had helped in the wildwood, then it must have been based on her twin sister.

He stayed in that room for a long time looking at the tapestry and wondering whether the one who sat on the ivory throne would be the same slave girl from the images. He stayed there until dusk began to gather in the house and he could no longer see the tapestries, for he still desired to look at them even then.

Then he went slowly back to the hall and found the old woman, who had lit candles and readied a meal for him; and when she saw him she cried out joyously: “Ah, I knew you would come back! Are you happy with our little land?”

“I like it well, ma’am,” he said; “but tell me, if you can, what is the meaning of the tapestry in the room with the ivory throne?”

The old woman said: “There’s someone else that will tell you about that, one who can tell it better than I can; but it is no secret that that room is the office of our Lady, and she sits there to hear cases of the people and give judgements.”

The old woman crossed herself as she spoke and Ralph wondered what that was about, but he asked no more questions, for he was barely sorry that she would not tell him the story, in case she messed it up.

So the evening passed and he went to bed and slept, and the next day he was up early and went out to mingle with the people in the fields, but this time he did not speak of the Lady and did not hear about her from any of those folk. So he went back to the castle and got a bow and some arrows and he went into the thick wood near where he and Roger had come through it. He had asked a young man of that land to go with him, but he was hesitant, but would not say why. So Ralph went by himself and wandered some distance into the wood, and saw no danger there. As he came back, going around to pass through the open meadows, he stumbled upon a herd of deer in a remote place, not quite wooded but not quite clear, and there he felled a deer with a single arrow, for he was a skilled archer, and he went and got some men from the fields who followed him anxiously, and they cut up the deer and carried it back to the castle, where the old women met them. She smiled at Ralph and praised the venison, and said that the hunting was well done. “For, as fond and fair as you are, it is not good for young men to have their minds set on just one thing.” Then she led him to his supper and served him, and the whole time he wanted to ask if she thought the Lady would return that day, since it was the last day of those which Roger had asked him to wait, but the words would not come out of his mouth.

She looked at him and smiled as though she had guessed what was on his mind, and at last said to him: “You’re tonguetied today. Have you seen anything strange in the woods?”

He shook his head.

She continued: “Why, then, are you not asking more about the Well at the World’s End?”

He laughed and said: “Maybe because I think you can’t tell me about it.”

“Well,” she said, “if I can’t, the book still might, and this evening, when the sun is down, you can look at it.”

“Thank you, mother,” he said; “but this is the last day that Roger asked me to wait. Do you think he will come back tonight?” and he reddened as he spoke.

“No,” she said, “I don’t know, and you don’t care whether he will come or not. But I know that you will wait here for someone else to come, whether they come early or late.”

Again, Ralph reddened, and he said in a coaxing way: “And will you let me stay here, mother, for a few more summer days?”

“Yes,” she said, “and until summer is over, if needed, and the corn is cut and carried off, and until winter comes and the far end of winter is gone.”

He smiled faintly, but his heart sank and he said: “Could it really take so long?”

“Oh, fair boy,” she said, “You will make it long, however short it is. And now I will give you some advice, lest you worry yourself sick over it: tomorrow, go see if you can meet fate instead of waiting for it. Put on your armor and take your sword and adventure in the wildwood, but do not go too deep into it.”

“But what if the Lady returns while I am away?”

“In truth,” said the old woman, “I do not think she will, for the way is long between us and her.”

“Do you mean,” said Ralph, standing up from the table, “that she will never come? I ask that you do not charm me with soft words, but tell me the truth.”

“There there!” she said, “sit down, king’s son; eat your food and drink your wine, for tomorrow is a new day. She will come sooner or later, if she is still in the world. And now I will say no more concerning the matter.”

Then she went out of the hall, and when she came back with a bowl of water and a towel, she said nothing to him, only smiled kindly. He went out into the meadow (for it was only early afternoon) and came among the harvesting folk and spoke with them, hoping one might talk about the Lady of Abundance, but none of them did, though the old man he had spoken with was there, as were the two maidens whom he had seen fishing. As for him, he was too anxious to ask them any more questions about her.

But he stayed with them for a long time, and ate and drank with them until the moon was up and shining. Then he went back to the castle and found the old woman in the hall, and she had the book with her and gave it to him. He sat down at small window in the candlelight and started reading.

Notes:

Ralph’s room is specified to be in the “gable hall” which is the area directly under the roof (so that the ceiling slants downward to either side). Unsure how common “gable” was, I just said it was at the top of the house/castle.

The “old woman” is described as being old, but is most commonly referred to as “the carline” (which is a general term, not her title, if you’ll remember).

I used the word “cellar” in this chapter and sometime once before, I feel like (at Clement and Katherine’s house, I think, maybe Bourton Abbas?), but the original word is “buttery” which is a room where food was stored for passing guests.

He actually says that he’ll have dinner there, but in older contexts (and perhaps still outside the US), dinner was the midday meal and the evening meal was called “supper,” which is how it’s been so far in this story.

The decorations in the hall as he eats are described as “bankers and dorsars,” which I was unable to fully understand. A dorsar is a fabric decoration for a chair, like a tapestry that hangs off the back. I have no idea what a “banker” is in this context, and I couldn’t find anything that seemed to fit.

The “excessive flattery” the old woman heaps on Ralph is described as “fulsome words,” which could indicate (by connotations of the word “fulsome”) that they’re unwanted/rude in their excess; i.e. that it’s the kind of flattery one does not enjoy or finds annoying. It says that Ralph “wished her away,” which I couldn’t come up with a clear equivalent for, so I went with the feeling I got from the rest of the text; that Ralph is grateful for the food but just want to eat without some old woman constantly telling him how hot he is.

“Wildwood” is used throughout this to refer to the woods around the Plains of Abundance, but I should mention that it’s not a proper noun (hence no capitalization). The term simply refers to naturally occurring woods which are not managed/landscaped. The same term was used at times for the Wood Perilous.

I like that when Ralph is talking to the old woman about the Lady of Abundance, she’s like “Yeah all the men like her—probably too much,” when she spends half the time fawning over Ralph. She also implies that Ralph is more attractive of a man than the Lady of Abundance is attractive as a woman, but I suppose that comes down to personal taste. Based on evidence presented elsewhere in the story, I find that hard to believe that is an opinion people generally hold.”

We’re given a description of Ralph’s clothes for the first time, though I believe he has multiple sets (or at the very least does not always wear the surcoat with the coat-of-arms on it). Also note that whether or not it being called “Upmead” in this one location is a mistake, it is not my mistake. That’s how it’s given in the original text.

The old man says “my lady’s castle” with a lowercase L, but “my Lady’s House” with both L and H uppercase.

Ah-ha! When speaking to the old man, Ralph refers to the rocky wastes where they cross the river as being to the north of the Plains of Abundance! I’ll adjust the map.

So, whenever we are given Ralph’s thoughts, the narration usually says that Ralph says something to himself (I think sometimes specified as being in his heart/mind). I think I sometimes have transcribed this as him thinking something, but a lot of the time I just have the narration say what he’s thinking because it keeps things simpler.

This is the second time I’ve mentioned fishing rods (the first was in Ralph’s dream the night he spent at Higham?), but in both cases the tool used is described as an “angle,” not a rod. My brain immediately translated that as rod (being the tool an “angler” uses to catch fish) but reading about it now, it seems to simply refer to a hook, so it’s possible that the fishing is being done with just a line and hook. I’m leaving in the reference to rods though because I don’t want to go back and make corrections and also it’s way easier than getting super specific. Also, more weirdness about the Lady! What’s with these spooky girls fishing?

The “walkway around the hall” is described as “a very goodly ambulatory over against the hall.” An ambulatory is an architectural feature which is a walkway around something (you’ve seen them, I’m sure). What I’m unsure of is whether the the ambulatory in this case is inside or outside, since they can be either. This is either basically a long hall (modern sense) that loops around the main hall (medieval sense) of the castle (allowing one to access all other rooms around it without actually going into the main hall), or it could be a paved walkway up against the outer wall main building, with the building on one side and pillars on the other (supporting a sheltering roof). I have no way of guessing which is the case here, so go with whichever you prefer.

This is the second time a door has been described as “on a latch” (the first time being when Roger and Ralph were fleeing the inn at the Burg). This time specifically the phrase is “which was but on a latch,” indicating that the only thing keeping someone out was a latch (that is, a little bar that anyone could move aside; this would be to keep the door from opening accidentally to the wind or something, ot to keep anyone out). Locks were a thing in the middle ages, though modern pin-tumbler designs would not come along for several centuries.

The ceiling of the room is described as “all done with gold and blue from over sea,” which describes its appearance but not its detail or materials. If I had to take a wild guess, I’d say the gold was gold and the blue was lapis lazuli, which would have been imported from the middle east. The floor is “wrought delicately in Alexandrine work.” Some digging turned up that Alexandria was famous for its floor mosaics, but I’m not sure if the line is intended to just say it’s a mosaic, or if it’s a mosaic of actual Alexandrine craftsmanship. Not that it matters.

A note on the perception of clothing: there have been a few times, I believe, where a character’s clothing (I think in all cases, the Lady’s) has been described as “scanty”, which in our modern English is like “ooo, look how much skin is showing” but in every case so far the context has given a different impression. I’ve seen this before and could probably do some research and find more information, but the story gives the sense that the Lady is beautiful despite her ragged/sparse clothing (compare to the Wheat-wearer whose thin dress was remarked upon positively for showing details of the body). Although Morris idealized simple/pastoral life, truly destitute clothing seems to be beyond his taste (and I believe the cultural tastes of the time), even if it means you can see a lot of skin. Basically, good  clothing enhances beauty, even if it covers more (though Morris was fond of simple good clothing, not just high-class stuff).

So, I pull quotes where characters say “the WELL AT THE WORLD’S END” in all caps because it’s funny, but it’s also interesting because they don’t always do it. It might just be the first time each character says it? Or maybe the first time it’s said in each chapter. In any case, the old woman does not use capslock when mentioning it at the end of this chapter.

I normally only do one quote, and for tradition I will use the one that mentions the WELL AT THE WORLD’S END, but I have a personal, second quote which I love:

"O, fair boy," she said, "thou wilt make it long, howsoever short it be. And now I will give thee a rede, lest thou vex thyself sick and fret thy very heart. To-morrow go see if thou canst meet thy fate instead of abiding it.”

The first part, especially, speaks to me as someone who is often impatient when waiting for something to arrive. We tend to make our troubles long in our own minds, even when they are short.

The window he sits at is specified as a “shot-window,” which I initially thought meant a loophole (a narrow, glassless window for shooting arrows out of), but seems to be a regional (Scottish, as with many of Morris’ regionalisms) term for a small, glassless window (possibly for shooting arrows out of; I wasn’t able to actually find much information).

The map has been corrected to move the Plains of Abundance much more straight-south of the Burg. Ralph sleeping overnight somewhere is marked with ZX, where X equals the nth time he’s slept. Technically he arrived at the Castle of Abundance in the morning so Z4 should be up in the woods to the north, but he did sleep that morning at the Castle and as far as the narration is concerned, he started a new day afterwards.

Map:

[kiwi-muses]

i would follow you

Azriel took his time flying from the River Estate to the House of Wind, enjoying the wind flowing through him and around him. In the weeks following Blood Rite, Azriel was trying to deploy spies closer to Koschei to determine his end game. Rhysand was still vehemently against Azriel himself going, something that chafed at him. He understood his brother’s protectiveness, but knew his efficiency was limited.

As he approached the House, he saw two figures sparring in the training ring, and two winged figures to the side. As he got closer, he saw a flash of red hair in the ring. Gwyn, he thought. That made the winged figures Cassian and Emerie, leaving Nesta sparring with Gwyn. He was fairly certain there wasn’t training today, though. He banked and landed, walking to join Cassian and Emerie. Cassian had a slight frown on his face as he watched Nesta and Gwyn. Azriel could hear grunts as hits connected; Gwyn and Nesta were a blur of fists, kicks, and blocks. Neither were pulling back. “Extra training session?” he asked Cassian.

He grunted in response. “Of a sort. Mor, Nes, and I were in the House, and Gwyn came up and said ‘It’s time to talk about that forgiveness.’ Nes just looked at her, went to change, and here they’ve been. Haven’t listened to me at all. Mor went to get Emerie. Emerie,” he drawled, “says this has been coming so she won’t intervene. They’ve been at it for over an hour; I thought they’d tire by now.” Azriel quirked his brow. Nothing Cass said made much sense.

Emerie snorted. “Not likely - Gwyn is angry. And nothing fuels her quite like anger.” If Azriel weren’t so good at controlling his features, his eyebrows would have hit his hairline. He didn’t know the priestess to become angry. Frustrated, but never angry.

Gwyn and Nesta broke apart, circling each other. Oh yes, Azriel could see the anger on Gwyn’s face now. Her teal eyes that normally reminded him of the sea were cold as ice, an expression he much more often associated with Nesta. He heard Nesta begin to speak. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect forgiveness to look like fighting,” she said.

“Well you didn’t let me fight at the Breaking. Better late than never.”

“I will not apologize for choosing for you to live.” Nesta’s voice was hard. Azriel heard Emerie’s sharp inhale, and he felt a twinge in his chest. The Valkyries had informed them of the basics of the events in the Blood Rite, but he hadn’t realized Gwyn had come to the crossroads of not walking away alive.

“What happened,” murmured Cassian. Emerie took a steadying breath.

Quietly, as if she didn’t want the other Valkyries to hear her, Emerie recounted what happened on Ramiel. “At the Pass, Nesta said she’d fight off Bellius and the other males. Gwyn wanted to stay with her. But she’d lost too much blood and it would kill her. Nesta knew that. So she knocked her out, and I carried her the rest of the way up the mountain.” Cassian swore softly.

The priestess is loyal, his shadows whispered. Loyal, indeed. He wondered if they bond that they had formed on Ramiel... He wondered if it was forged of the same steel as his, Cassian’s, and Rhysand’s.

“I do not seek an apology for your choice, Nesta.” Gwyn made for a swift attack that Nesta blocked. They circled each other again. “I told you what happened to me.” Azriel felt a shiver down his spine. That was a day he hadn’t been able to scrub from his memory, especially after seeing the priestess again. He wasn’t a fool - he could deduce what had been done to her, what he’d intervened in. He’d been quietly impressed at her strength since then, her desire to train. “My choices were stolen from me. And you… in making your choice, you took away mine.” He saw a tear slide down Gwyn’s cheek, and he saw pain on Nesta’s face. Gwyn kicked at Nesta, and their flurry of movement started once again. There was silence between them for a few moments as they each got in hits and blocks.

Gwyn put down her fists, and looked Nesta in the eye. “I lost Catrin,” she panted. “I will not lose another sister again.” Her hand cupped Nesta’s cheek, and brought her forehead to meet Nesta’s. “I would have followed you, my sister. My commander.” The air felt heavy. He glanced at Cassian, seeing his widened eyes.

“I know,” Nesta said, tears escaping her eyes. “I’m sorry.” Azriel knew those words did not leave Nesta often, lending a particular gravity to the exchange.

“You will not take away my choice again.” Gwyn’s voice was quiet, but hard. “I will live or die by my own choices. And if I should die by my sister, it will have been an honor.” Gwyn pulled Nesta to her in a hug, and Azriel saw Emerie run to them to throw her arms around them. He felt as though he was witnessing something sacred and private. He looked at Cassian.

“I wouldn’t have pegged Gwyn the type to settle a disagreement with fists,” he remarked dryly. Cassian snorted.

“Me either. I thought Nes was exaggerating when she said our favorite priestess had a temper.”

Just when Azriel thought he had the priestess pegged, she’d throw him a curveball. She was competitive. Loyal. And, apparently, fiery. She intrigued him.

The threeway hug broke apart. “So,” Gwyn said brightly, “who’s up for cake?” Emerie barked a laugh.

“You went from pummeling each other and now you want cake?!”

Gwyn shrugged her shoulders. “My score is settled, and now I want cake.” All three females chuckled, Nesta shaking her head, and started making their way towards the door. Nesta veered to give Cassian a kiss, and Azriel could hear him asking if she was alright. He caught Gwyn’s eye. “Hello, shadowsinger.” Her eyes sparkled.

“Hello, priestess.” He responded. His shadows danced at her proximity.

“Hello, shadows,” she said with a smile. He could feel joy in his shadows, and a few left to twirl around her, making her giggle. “Come join us for cake. Life is too short to miss out on cake!”

Truthfully, Azriel wasn’t overly fond of sweets. But that sparkle in her eye was hard to resist, and he felt a pull to her that he decided not to ignore. “Alright. Lead the way.” Her smile brightened, making his heart skip a beat. Maybe being stuck here instead of being sent to spy on Koschei wouldn’t be so horrid after all.

[queenshelby]

The Policeman’s Daughter – Part One

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warning: Mention of Attempted Suicide and Abuse

Notes: The fic plays a year after Grace’s death. It will be quite dark as Tommy still struggles with PTSD and Grace’s death and the Reader has struggles of her own.

London, 1 August 1924

For the past three years, it has only been you and your father, living in London in a small suburban house.

Whilst you were in your early twenties, your father was very protective of you. You were his only child and you couldn’t stay out of trouble.

You had moved out of his house momentarily when your mother had passed away but soon had no choice but to return when the relationship you had formed with a young man at the time had turned bad.

Ever since your experience with that man, you lost faith and you lost trust. A year of abuse had gone unnoticed until the day your life had changed forever.

It was 1 August 1922 and you remembered that day, every day and every night. The nightmare you had to endure that day would stay with you forever. Every time you glanced into the mirror and saw this big scar across your stomach, you saw a stark reminder of that day. Every night you went to sleep, you were woken up by a nightmare, reliving exactly what happened to you to that day.

The worst of it all was that the man who did this to you and the men who watched walked free. He was the son of a judge who helped to cover it up. The abuse, the shooting, everything.

You were left with the burden of it all and, at one point several months ago, you even considered to leave this world behind, to join your mother wherever she was.

But your father, he saved you that day you tried to take your life and ever since then, he had his eyes on you, ensuring your safety.

Ironically, it was on 1 August 2024 that he made you a promise. A new life and a new home, in Birmingham.

‘Why Birmingham. It’s an industrial town. There is nothing there’ you wondered.

‘I have been assigned a new job, investigating a criminal syndicate in the area. I cannot tell you anything else about it. Its for your safety. But I have requested a house in the outskirts for us to stay at and security. It will be safe’ your father explained and you knew that he was probably right as, currently, he was investigating several killings in London and certainly had become a target.

Birmingham, 1 September 1924

Over the past two weeks, you made your new house a home.

Your father didn’t lie when he said that your new house was in the outskirts of the city. The nearest factory was a twenty-minute drive away and your property was surrounded by fields and bushland.

For days, you had been exploring the area, spent time at the nearby river, hunted and gathered.

‘I sometimes wish that your mother wouldn’t have taught you her customs’ your father chuckled when he finally found you.

You stood in front of him, your boots covered in dirt, leaves stuck in your hair while you prepared dinner outside over the campfire near the river.

‘Bi kashtesko merel i yag’ you said, pointing to the pile of wood besides him. But you knew that he had never learned your mother’s language.

‘You know, we do have an oven my love’ he laughed.

‘Doesn’t taste the same coming out of the oven’ you smiled, offering him a seat on the blanket besides the fire as you did.

‘I suppose you are right’ he said, taking some of the meat and vegetables.

‘When I was walking today, I came across an orphanage. It is on the hill a few miles from here. I was wondering if, perhaps, I could seek employment there’ you suggested to your father and, to your surprise, he was in agreement.

Birmingham, 5 September 1924

Your employment was approved within no time and, whilst the position didn’t pay well, it was satisfying to you to work with children in need.

The orphanage was established through the Grace Shelby Institute and housed over thirty children.

To your surprise, unlike there is with most orphanages you had visited and volunteered at, there was no involvement from the church.

It was well furnished, featured a large library and the children were well dressed.

There were two young children in particular who caught your interest. Their names were Adam and Lenny, two brothers who just loved to explore.

It was on your first day that they had, again, disappeared from the orphanage much to the disapproval of the educators, which the children called ‘aunts’

‘The twins are lost again’ one of the aunts said quickly just as she heard a car pull up in front of the orphanage.

‘They aren’t lost, they are exploring’ you said calmly, but the aunts weren’t calm at all as they watched a well dressed and very handsome man and a very attractive brunette woman step out of their grey Bentley.

‘Listen, I know where they might be. Let me fetch them, alright?’ you offered and the eldest aunt nodded quickly in approval before greeting the two well-dressed strangers.

‘Mr Shelby, Mrs Grey, please common with us’ the woman said and, just as she did, the man’s eyes locked with yours for a moment as he walked past. You couldn’t recall having ever seen eyes that intensively blue before. They were almost hypnotising.

After quickly collecting your thoughts, you made your way to the nearby forest and, just as you had expected, the twins were by the river.

You spent ten minutes with them, exploring and preparing them for the aunts’ disapproval for their behaviour, before winding them up and making them follow you back to the orphanage.

‘Next time, sneak out a little more carefully’ you said to them with gypsy tongue before giving them a wink and shewing them back inside, not expecting to be understood by the handsome stranger smoking besides the door.

‘They need to learn how to cover their tracks, eh?’ the man said in gypsy tongue and you swallowed harshly, embarrassed and concerned for your employment at the same time.

‘I am sorry, they just want to be outside, not cooped up in here. But I shouldn’t have suggested…’ you went on to say, but the stranger interrupted you.

‘There is no need to apologise Love. I am gypsy too, I understand’ the man said with a smile before introducing himself to you.

‘I don’t think we have met. My name is Thomas Shelby’ he said, shaking your hand.

‘Y/N YL/N’ you responded shyly before noticing the familiar surname. ‘Are you involved with the Grace Shelby Institute?’ you asked, looking at the sign displayed behind you.

‘Grace Shelby was my wife. Me and my family established the charity following her death’ the man explained.

‘I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked such an intrusive question’ you murmured, but the man assured you that your question wasn’t intrusive at all.

You talked with the handsome stranger for quite some time before, eventually, the dark-haired woman came out of the building, ready to leave.

‘May I see you again Miss YL/N?’ the man then asked shamelessly, causing the woman, known by the name of Polly Grey, roll her eyes.

‘Yes, where?’ you said somewhat nervously. You were surprised when these words left your lips all so eagerly as, until now, you hadn’t built up the courage again to even consider involving yourself with a man.

‘I will find you’ the man said, winking at you as he did, before saying goodbye to you in gypsy tongue.

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[crownandwriter]

In which he notices your...frustration

Pairings: Kazuha, Diluc x gn!reader

Warnings: suggestive themes/dialogue (nothing actually happens, though), flirting, fluff/comfort??if you squint, not proofread because im impatient

Author Note: A little idea I had, but I left the smut off for now lol. If these are well-liked I’ll do other characters

Part 2 (Xiao, Chongyun)

Intro

You couldn’t say where such an intense need had come from, or if something specific had caused it, but it’s presence was unyielding. Worse, it’s been one busy-bee-thing after the other today--a task here, too many people there, your help needed there…. You hadn’t had chance enough to take care of the problem yourself, let alone seek out your partner and ask him to sweep you away for much-needed relief.

Little did you know, he’d already taken note of your predicament. How the need flushed your cheeks and the discomfort made you seem ever-so-slightly...frustrated. And, well, how could he not offer to ease your burdens?

Kazuha

Kazuha came strolling back over the hill with the water satchels in record time, and laid them out neatly near Aether as he assembled the fire pit for cooking today’s lunch. Before you could offer to get the soup pot ready, Kazuha gingerly took your wrist and tugged. The look he leveled you with was sweeter than usual...doting almost.

“There’s something by the water I want to show you,” he said. “Traveler, we’ll be back shortly.”

Aether waved you off good-naturedly, responding something about the other still fetching ingredients anyway,, and Kazuha laced your fingers together as he led you back towards the river. As you approached, you scanned the area for what he may have discovered. It wasn’t uncommon for Kazuha to lead you off in private like this to share in a particularly beautiful scene and a few moments of respite. Though, if you were being honest, you doubted your ability to enjoy it right now….

As you tip-toed to the water’s edge, however, his hand gently guided you further up the embankment. There was a gorgeous waterfall too, and you found yourself wondering if a cold dip would help this burning urge. Kazuha looked between you and the cascading water for a few rich moments, and then cleaned closer so you could hear his soft voice over the rush of water.

“You’ll never guess what I’ve found,” he said. It was hard to structure a guess when his breath on your ear sent a shockwave down the pulse of your neck. You were sure he noticed the thick swallow that came after, too.

He chuckled, and then his free hand came up to guide a large palm leaf growing from the cliffside into the water. The torrent split open, neat like pulling open a curtain, and revealed a cozy little cave beyond the cool mist.

“I rarely find anything beyond waterfalls,” Kazuha says and he guides you under the opening. “Storybooks could certainly make one think they’d be more common. No treasure in here, though--”

You flicker a smile at him for the sentiment, and take in the space. There’s moss-covered rocks and a scattered few glowing lamp grass that seem to have been recently plucked. Before you can ponder too much on their presence, Kazuha steps in behind you and his lips find your ear once more.

“--yet.” You whirl, and catch his autumnal eyes burning right into yours, temptingly close, but half-lidded and gentle. His fingers dance over your hips in ritual that’s long become casual, skirting the edges of your clothing and waiting for any ounce of refusal. “I believe you’ve been on the precipice of finding it for a while now…. May I be so bold as to offer you my assistance in reaching it?”

“K-Kazuha, I don’t think we have time,” you felt the need to whisper--but surely the whitenoise of rushing water would cover even the loudest yelling…. Oh. “The others will be waiting for us.”

Kazuha shakes his head slowly, never breaking gazes with you, even as he slowly backs you into the rock wall and begins to slide down your body. “Not to worry; we have a little time, and that’s all I need. For now.”

“I’ll be sure to take care of you more thoroughly next time we’re alone. But for now, please allow me to ease your troubles just a little.”

Diluc

Angel’s Share was close to closing, but you couldn’t say you had survived the night just yet. A scarce few regulars remained, mostly drunk, either awaiting their escorts home or sipping on water to sober up enough to make it alone. They all knew the closing routine by now, so Diluc stepped into the back room to take inventory without worry. And you were back with him to help speed things along too.

Although, surprisingly, it was actually going slower with your aid.

“Archons-- damn it, sorry Diluc, I’ve lost count again.” He wasn’t upset with you, but that was the third time. You’d been helping him with these sorts of tasks for so long now, the sudden difficulty with it concerned him. Now, he was a very observant man, and your reddened cheeks, lack of focus, the way you couldn’t meet his eyes in some moments.... Diluc had a theory as to what was going on, but felt guilty in lingering on an assumption so personal. He tried, instead, to observe you for signs of injury or fatigue, but his unwavering attention instead seemed to fluster you more.

“Is everything alright?” There, he finally asked. He did keep his voice down, though, lest the remaining patrons hear the conversation through the splinter-sized cracks in the bar door.

Your face dipped darker red immediately. You pointedly kept your eyes on the wine racks.

“Y-yes, of course! It’s just...been a long day. I’m quite ready to go home.” There’s a brief pause, and then you whirl to look at him. “Oh! Not that, I don’t like helping out here! I-I just, ah…”

“...Just?”

“I just...have some things to do at home,” you mutter.

Diluc knew that sentence was one large punctuation to end the topic; you were embarrassed, though he couldn’t tell for certain if there was discomfort mingled in with it. While you scrambled to finish counting the dandelion wine, Diluc leaned his hips back on a stack of crates, stretching his legs languid and crossing his ankles. He watched you even more intently now, digging with his eyes for the reaction to his next question:

“Is it something I can help you with?”

Your breath hitches at the inquiry. It takes much more courage than it should to flicker your gaze back over at your shoulder at him. You know--they say fire breathes. And it’s true. Diluc is there, flickering heat over in the corner of the dim room, eyes crackling embers, just waiting to burn the whole room down with you...or is that just wishful thinking?

“Come here,” he speaks again. He’s more assured in your wants now, and his pupils are blown wider. Your legs wobble over to him before your embarrassment gets the better of you. He slides the glove easily off of one had by a pinched finger, and then takes your chin gently between his bare fingers, leveling your eyes with his so hotly you think you might combust. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, quieter. “Do you need my help?”

Your hands grapple his shirt in desperate response, but fall limp and weak against his chest. Squirming in your place, you only just manage to nod. Diluc hums, and gently pulls you flush against him.

“I don’t love being so unceremonious with you,” he says while leaning in. “But I’ll worry about making it up to you later. For now, just remember to keep your voice down.”

“If you can’t walk to the Winery after this...it can’t be helped, I’ll just carry you. Though, it doesn’t bode well for you when we get back.”

[roscgcld]

RYOMEN SUKUNA || we will meet again

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: ryomen sukuna

pronouns: she/her

proof read: N/A

"Promise me...that one day, we will meet again."

Back in the day, when Jujutsu Sorcerers were at their prime, lived a Cursed Spirit who goes by the name Sukuna. Once a human Sorcerer himself, he had somehow managed to create himself into the Jujutsu world's most feared Cursed Spirit. He was dubbed 'the King of Curses' and rained terror over the human and jujutsu world; with super natural powers and a sadistic personality to match the title. Everyone who has crossed him shook in absolute fear.

That was, of course, before he met a particular princess.

She was a beautiful woman; the daughter of one of the then king’s favourite concubines. Born with the alluring beauty of her mother, and a heart of gold, it was hard to ignore her presence when she walked into a room. 

She was brought up in the palace, where she was given the title as princess; but she will never sit on the throne of the kingdom her father rules over. As only the King’s wife is allowed to bear the heir that will sit on the throne. She didn’t mind, she had never desired such power to begin with. Even if she was going to be married off to one of the many foreign princes asking for her hand in marriage, she didn’t care about titles. 

Since she was never destined to sit on the throne, her father had given her quite the freedom to do as she pleases. With all her free time, she tends to use it connect to the people of her kingdom; helping the needy during their time of need, always purchasing things from the local vendors and merchants that have travelled long and far. She is beloved by the people, and shines a light on the royal family that makes them more human instead of the godly image that is projected onto the royal family.

Anyone who meets her would fall in love for her - and apparently not even Cursed Spirits were the exception.

The princess have always love spending her time out in nature - horse back riding with a few of the guards in training, swimming in the river that her brothers love to hunt by, learning about the different plants and herbs from the doctors that go out foraging for medical herbs. So it came to the surprise to no one when Sukuna stumbled onto the princess by accident on the riverbed.

Sukuna had not expected to see any human about as he goes about his walk deep in the woods. It was one of those rare moments to himself where he does not necessarily have anything he needed to do on hand, and also the few rare moments where he does not have a mob of sorcerers up his ass. He was just enjoying the sounds of nature and the soft wind blowing against his kimono when he heard what sounded like a human's laughter coming from the river near by. At first he was curious, since no human usually ventures this deeply into the woods. At the same time, he had wanted to ignore it, since humans are just a pain in the ass to deal with even if they can't see you. However, there was something so alluring about that soft giggle that had him wanting to see just who this annoying brat was. So, without even him realising what was happening, his feet quietly walked towards the river and before he knew it, he had pushed the last branch aside to peek over at the river bed curiously. Sitting before him on a flat rock by the river was a woman with flowing hair, her small feet dipped into the running water below as her hands reached forward to play with a few of the fishes that swam by. The pink fabric of her furisode laid behind her like a pink halo, showcasing the intricate sakura trees and flowers that were sown into the fabric. The aura around her was relaxed and peaceful, and somehow just seeing her brings him a sense of peace. As if she could sense his stare, the woman suddenly pauses before she turns to look over her shoulder curiously; bright and seemingly glowing eyes meeting his red ones head on. Sukusa felt the world around him come to a stop as the eyes of the princess before him trapped him on the spot, causing him to loose all train of thought from before. "Oh - were you wanting to sit here too?"

"Huh?"

The casual way she just asked him that question definitely threw him off. The woman actually just lets out a soft laugh at his dry answer. "It's alright - we can share the space if you don't mind." She commented, a teasing tone taking over her voice as she patted the free spot beside her. "I promise I don't bite."

If she had known just who this man was, she might actually understand how ironic her sentence was. But Sukuna decided not to comment on it as he quietly makes his way towards her, sitting down at the spot beside the princess whose eyes had already returned to the river before her. "The water feels extra nice today. And there is more fishes then usual." She conversed with the man casually, causing Sukuna to wonder if she is pretending to be as dense as she is right now. "How are you so calm right now? I mean, do you see a 10ft tall human with four arms every day or what? Your reaction is sort of dull." 

The princess pauses in thought as she thinks, looking far too relaxed by his side. "I have always been able to see...odd things." She started off with a soft hum, glancing over at the man beside her with a soft smile. "I have asked people around me before, and after realising that I am the only one who can see them, I decided to ignore them." She admitted, running her dry hand through her hair softly. "But if I am being honest, this is the first time one has actually ever spoken to me."

"Well, I'm not the everyday curses." He said with a slightly proud tune in his voice, to which the princess beside him looks up at the taller man with interest. "Every day curses are small things, I am basically what people in my world call a Special Grade Curse." He continued, and for some reason, when he saw how her eyes were staring up at in him awe, he looked away with a light blush on his face. He doesn't even know what was about her that drags out these human-like emotions from him - he had never felt like this ever before.

"Special Grade Curse?" She echoes back with curiosity, to which the man beside her just nods softly as he leans back to rest on the free arms, the other two crossed across his chest. Suddenly she turned to face him, her eyes shining so brightly with excitement that it caused Sukuna to squint a little. "Can you explain just what you are to me a little more?"

One question was all it took to have Sukuna falling, and if he was being honest - he actually didn’t mind spending so much time on this little human. From sharing stolen nights in her bedroom in the royal palace, to sneaking out to just go to the riverbed where the met for the first time; they even spent time just wandering about his domain. It was actually during these small explorations of the world around them that created a special bond between the two.

For her, he was her escape from the restrictive and repetitive routine of royal life. For him, she was his utopia, a person he can turn to whenever he feels like just killing everyone around him. Soon though, these emotions sprouted into something deeper and more personal. It was jarring at first, falling for a human - but he knows that she was worth it all.

He remembers the way her eyes shone brightly with a constant look of innocence in them, yet she is mature and realistic enough to know that not everything is sunshine and rainbows. He remembers the way she carries herself, her warm and loving smile, how content he felt whenever she wrapped her arms around him. He loves the feeing of her soft hair that tumbles around her face in soft waves, how it feels like silk whenever he runs his fingers through them. How with just one glance, she can fill the void in his heart that he didn't know existed.

Yet they were never set to happy ending to begin with.

It was during just what started off like a normal day when the town the princess was in was suddenly invaded by a rival kingdom’s army. Their goal was to conquer and take over the kingdom with any means necessarily; meaning that the royal family had to go.

Uraume had entered his hideout, panting with wide eyes as they told Sukuna of the town now plunging into chaos. Within seconds the Cursed Spirit was up and sprinting towards the royal palace, great fear and anger gripping him from within. Entering through the destroyed doors of the grand palace, he ignored the screams of anguish of the others around him as he ran straight towards one of the buildings - the building where the royal sleeping chambers were located.

When he finally found her room, he felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest at the sight before him.

The once beautifully crafted shoji doors with panels decorated in a beautiful forest scene now laid in tatters, the furniture inside looking as if though a huge scuffle had happened. Rushing deeper into the room, he felt his heart sank to its stomach when he saw the splatters of blood leading towards the small room where the princess would sleep in.

Entering the back room, his red eyes scanned over the many splatters of blood about the room, the red handprints of the princess smeared across the ornate walls whilst the body of the princess laid on her futon; the sheets now soaked in blood. "No, no, no.." Sukuna managed out in horror as he quickly made his way to his lover's side, pulling her bloodied body into his arms immediately. "Flower, open your eyes. Please.."

Slowly her eyelids begin to move, and Sukuna felt his heart break when he saw how her now dull and tired eyes shifted to look up at him, taking a moment to truly process just who he was. "I'm so sorry..." Sukuna mumbles out through a small voice as he pulls her closer, trying his hardest to press his hands against the gashing wound on her abdomen. Since the wound was inflicted by a non-sorcerer, there was no trace of cursed magic on her; meaning that there was no way he can save her to begin with. "I-If only I had known..."

"Shh...it's okay.." The princess whispered out in a soft but pained tone, her bloody hand reaching up to cup his tattoo cheek ever so softly. The familiar touch brought another wave of emotion through Sukuna as he tries to blink back his tears, pulling her closer to his chest as he shifted his posture so she was sitting in his lap. He barely even acknowledge his own kimono that was slowly being soaked in blood. "Y-You didn't know this was going to happen...no one did...don't blame yourself..."

With watery red eyes Sukuna marvelled at how even though she was on death's doorstep, she still tried to put on a smile for his sake. "I'm so sorry..." Sukuna manages through a pained tone, tears now sliding down his face in thick streams whilst the woman just gave him a loving smile, resting her head on his shoulder. "Don't be.." She mumbles softly, forcing the man to look down at her as she gave him the same smile that had him falling for her from the beginning. "You know that...it takes more than this to get rid of me.."

The teasing words caused Sukuna to let out a soft and pained laugh, remembering the times where he would tell her how annoying she was whenever she would cling onto him and tease him relentlessly. He would trade anything to go back to those moments once more. "Brat.." He manages through his silent sobs, to which the woman just lets out a soft laugh as her fingers slowly traced along his features. For a few moments it was just silence, but the next time she spoke, Sukuna knew that the end was coming.

"Promise me...that one day, we will meet again."

"I promise, my love." Sukuna mumbles back quietly, resting his forehead against hers when he noticed how much effort it takes for her to blink. "No matter how long it takes, I will wait for you." He told her firmly as he presses a loving kiss on her forehead. "No matter how long it takes.." She echoes quietly, to which Sukuna just press a loving kiss on her head just as he felt her soft hand slowly slide down his chest, falling limply on her side.

For a moment Sukuna just held her against him, quietly crying into her hair. His entire world was in his arms, and just like that she was taken away from him. From that sadness came anger, and he soon found himself with the deep desire to crush whoever took her away from him.

Thus started the true rein of terror under the King of Curses, his anger fueling him to chase for bigger goals. Whilst he strive to rid of this world of dirty humans who took his flower away from her, he kept the vow that they promised one another - that they will wait for the other no matter how long it takes.

Because he had promised you so, and he’d do anything to keep that promise.

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform