#this chamber was also meant to contain her if anything Went Wrong

[writingwenches]

Rhaenyra’s Daughter OC

drabble summary: first look at my new OC, I wanted to create a daughter for Rhaenyra who is staunchly team green. She got away from me a bit. I tried to embody a daughter that was opposite of Rhaenyra in every way, while also still being exactly like her. She believes herself to be Laenor’s only true born daughter, I didn’t explicitly state her parentage, but I’ll leave it up to yall to figure it out. She’s still very new in my head, so more to come from her in the future!

contains: traditional medieval sentiments, religious worship, pure female rage, “thanks! I hate her!”

drabble wc: ~1k

please note: this character is not meant to “make fun of” other people’s Rhaenyra’s daughter OC, I chose the name Aemma because I haven’t seen it used before, so no one gets the wrong ideas.

I don’t have a specific planned romance for her yet, so feel free to send in requests and ideas for her!

Read her debut in her own chapter one

On the day of her birth, King Viserys was the first to speak his daughter’s name, as a gift to the woman he loved. He had informed his small council when the news of a healthy female babe came to them, that the babe was to be called Princess Aemma Targaryen. 

Queen Alicent, debilitated from her labors, spent the days following the birth with her mind controlled by milk of the poppy. Her seventeenth nameday came and went. She couldn’t be sure, as her mind frolicked with the dancers painted on her chamber walls, but Alicent did not recall the kitchens preparing her traditional cinnamon cake to mark the celebration. 

Queen Alicent first heard the babe’s name from her father, the Hand of the King. And right then, her recovery ended. 

Princess Helaena Targaryen was announced at court that every afternoon, with the king’s approval or presence.

It was not long after that Princess Rhaenyra was in need of a name for her own healthy baby girl, and Aemma seemed fitting. 

Princess Aemma Valyarion was born the Realm’s Delight. Aemma was perfection personified from the moment she was born, two moons early, but weighing more than any of the king’s children. Disregarding the Maester’s astrological based predictions of the birth, it was foretold that the babe would be of sturdy health, and her favorite thing to do was scream. 

It was not something she would grow out of. 

The princess’s hair was her greatest treasure. Pale white, with flecks of silver under the sun, she had grown down to her hips. Each night, requiring two maids to brush it to her satisfaction. She did not appreciate inefficiency, only inspecting after twenty additional brush strokes. 

Gifts from her grandsire birthed her collection. The elder captain enjoyed Aemma’s excitement with every exotic trinket she returned with, as his wife and daughter had grown tiered of his absence. Her favorite treasures were the princess’s vast collection of combs and brushes from around the known world. She had comb made of a single jewel from the mines of Casterly Rock, a comb of pure frozen fire from the markets of Asshai, the small folk call it dragon glass, and her most prized possession, a brush that is said to be made of hair and human bone from north of the Wall. 

Every night she would pick her two tools, one for each maid, as a sort of prayer for the next days blessings. Her mother hadn’t ever understood her obsessions. 

Her mother never understood anything. 

Aemma screamed. Rhaenyra screamed back. A chair is thrown from her balcony and Queen Alicent enters the young girl’s room without introduction. Aemma cried and threw herself at the Queen’s mercy. 

“I simply suggested,” her mother started, “that we visit the dragon pit so that we might––“ 

“You wish to sabotage any chance I have of ever finding a husband!” Aemma’s words bit like the heat of dragon fire grazing skin. “No man shall have me if I stink of dragon!”

High Valyrian was out of the question, why speak the language of a civilization not competent enough to remain living amongst some ‘falling volcanic ash’, Aemma believed that the gods only act their vengeance on those who deserve his wrath. If one never sins, one will always be kept in the favor of the gods.  

Her mother spoke blasphemous contradictions, always downplaying the gods judgement. 

“We of Old Valyrian were only saved from Doom by the grace of the Seven,” Aemma’s hands rose in praise, “and we must honor them in the way that they demand.” Her daily trips to the Great Sept surpassed that of the most pious at court. 

At the mere suggestion, from Rhaenyra, for Aemma to spent time away from her constant, quiet, contemplation, the young princess would drop to her knees while loudly begging the gods forgiveness of her mother’s trespass. Her hands rose to the ceiling, her calls shouted to their exhalation, to cover the heretical words of her mother. 

Rhaenyra eventually gave up, and allowed the girl to do as she pleased. Aemma’s eyes were shut closed for her endless prayers before meals, her calls were loud enough to cover the rest of them picking at their plates. 

“May my every action be guided by your grace, and let me praise your name with all my actions.” 

Sometimes, Rhaenyra thought her daughter was doing these things simply to irritate her mother. Laenor, her father, thought she was simply fascinating. 

Aemma believed in eternal damnation, neither her parents knew where the thought had stemmed from. She was still a child, in her nursery room, when she told of dreams from the eternal burn of dragon fire that awaits those that displease the gods. Not even the Septas could talk the girl from her heading. She viewed her life as a test, and she would not allow herself to fail it. 

Of course, Princess Aemma Targaryen was not going to become a dirty, old, Septa, she was born with a grander purpose. She knew she was to be a mother from her playing with dolls. She knew she was to be a great mother one day. 

Something that she knew her own mother was not. 

Before Aemma was old enough to understand, she could read it on the faces of those at court, there was something wrong. The Queen had never spoken ill of her mother in her presence, but Aemma suspected she had always just finished speaking before the young girl was close enough to hear. 

The young princess had told Aegon they were to be wed before he was ten, she told him he was expected to begin praying with her, to better prepare his soul for the gods final judgement. He detested the idea to such extent, that he leaned into her anger at his every lewd and wanton act. 

Aegon would not make a proper husband, she would need to find her own. Aemond could be a proper match, as he still did not have a dragon. 

Aemond would sometimes hear her screams marking another spat with her mother from the training yard. He supposed their children would grow strong, and she did not have the look of a bastard that marked her brothers. Still, he did not like the idea of more unity with that family. 

It was not Aemma’s words that haunted Aemond from the night be lost his eye, it was the imagined droves of ladies at court that said the same. 

Aemma shouted at her child brother, Lucerys, from her place at the Queen’s side, “I can not marry him now that he has one eye!” 

author’s note: THANKS for reading! And if you need a terrible older sister in your fic, feel free to use her! Make sure to tag me so I can watch her path of destruction! I don’t have a specific planned romance for her yet, so feel free to send in requests and ideas for her! I had a LOT of fun writing her religiously, without leaning on common christian-centric phrases.

fic universe: Aemond x Peasant OC

tags: @targaryenswhxre (I hope you enjoy!)

[honeybeezx]

Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 1

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! So this is the first fic I’ve ever posted on tumblr, low key kinda scary😄 But this man and his paramour have been on my mind for the longest. This is a self insert fic, but I don’t really use “Y/N”. Hope you enjoy and any feedback would be great!

Summary: You are an assassin hired by Tyrion to act as extra security alongside Bronn. He brings you back to King’s Landing just as the boy king Jeoffry Baratheon plans to marry the cunning Margaery Tyrell. But with all the guests roaming around, you begin to wonder who is a friend and who is a foe. No one makes you wonder more than the famed prince from Dorne and his captivating paramour.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: mentions of murder, allusions to sex

—————

You never knew anything in the seven kingdoms could make you feel so small. It wasn’t as if you’d ever let it show. You held your head high, walking alongside Tyrion as both of you entered the great hall of the throne room, Bronn on the opposite side of your employer. The Red Keep was even bigger than you had imagined it to be. The throne room was the tallest room you had ever seen. Against the dark ceiling the columns looked as if they stretched up into the night sky.

Every eye in the palace was on the three of you, and you felt no one’s eyes more than Cersei’s. You held her gaze. A woman who lived in luxury her whole life did not frighten you. She may have influence, but you had experience, strength, freedom, and skill with your bow that you were now acutely aware was strapped to your back. Having the protection of Tyrion’s influence and connections and Bronn’s strength and skill with a sword brought a sense of comfort, allowing you to remain calm under such scrutinizing gaze.

“Brother.” Cersei greeted with a soft smile that failed to hide all the vileness in her heart. “You come with friends.”

“Oh no, more like bodyguards. We have so many enemies now a days sister, I like to know I’m protected.” Tyrion smirked, leaving Bronn chuckling. You, on the other hand, would not let your intimidating demeanor fade, remaining as stoic and unyielding as the stone columns that held up the palace you wished to see fall. “May I introduce Bronn, Lord of Highgarden and-“

“Yes, I know all about the Silver Hawk from the North. I wonder if you are half as good as they say you are.” She mocked, her tone anything but genuinely curious. “I am told that you can hit your target 200 meters away and steal their breath before they even know what hit them.” If you didn’t know any better you’d think she was impressed, even if she did look at you as if you were the lowest creature she ever beheld.

“Perhaps I will have an opportunity to display my skills while I am here, your grace.” You’ll see first hand when my arrow is aimed just above your crooked neck.

“Perhaps.” She replied, feigning as much sweetness as a ferrel cat.

The both of you narrowed your eyes at each other. There was no outright exchange of harsh words or petty language, but the furious tension between the two of you was enough to fill the entire hall with uncomfortable silence. You hoped your unyielding gaze scared her. You wondered how many people actually defied her, you wondered how long it would take to get under her skin.

“Yes, well.” Tyrion interrupted, knowing you were bubbling with anger. Cersei was too, and although you allowed her to see your own emotions, it please you a bit to know you could anger her just as easy. You hated Lannisters almost more than anything, but you also knew Cersei’s time would come. She would pay for her crimes, fate would decide her end. You knew that fate had not brought you here to slay the queen regent, as much as you despised her. “As much as I love chatting with you sister, I simply wanted our arrival to be known. We have much unpacking to do and much to discuss.”

“Be careful, little brother.” She warned. “Your guard has little reserve and it seems your little silver hawk has a silver tongue as well. You would be wise to remember that people have been killed for that and less.”

“I’ll be sure to keep very close watch over them.” Tyrion retorted sarcastically before turning on his heal and exiting the great hall. You and Bronn followed, the later unable to contain his amusement.

“I’d say that went well!” He quipped, smiling at both you and your employer.

“She didn’t call to chop off our heads, that is some relief.” Tyrion noted. “But you both must be careful, especially you.” His scrutinizing gaze met yours.

“What? You expected me to just let her try and hold some dominate power over me? Just because she is draped in finest jewels in the seven realms and hides behind the her father’s influence does not mean I will tremble like a child before her.”

Tyrion sighed. “You must, for now, hold your tongue. Your wit does you credit, that’s why I like you, but you must check yourself. My sister is more dangerous than you can imagine. Don’t tremble, but don’t overstep either.” You remembered that Tyrion had been playing the game his whole life, he was basically born into it. He knew his sister better than anyone, and that meant he knew how to get around her better than anyone. You made a note to observe exactly what made Cersei tick, what made her preen under her usually reserved demeanor.

Despite the warm tones of the palace, you felt as though you were walking on ice. One wrong step and you were dead under a frozen tundra. You didn’t like this at all. Tyrion promised your freedom would not be at risk, yet you felt the freedom to speak your mind, the freedom to do as you pleased slip from you more and more. You were being watched here, you weren’t stupid. Every move had to be calculated, every word like honey laced with poison. The faster the boy king could marry, the less people there were for you to worry about. It made you uncomfortable not knowing who was an ally and who was a foe. The one thing you could appreciate about Cersei was that you always knew where you stood with her.

“I will try to remain civil if she approaches me, otherwise I will avoid your sister to the best of my abilities. But she would be wise not to challenge my reserve.” I huffed, earning a laugh from Bronn.

“Your reserve, little hawk, will be undone, whether it be from your words or your arrows.” He teased. You gave him a shove and he stumbled a bit, but not much. The last thing you needed was the oaf calling you “little”.

“The sooner we are out of this horrid place the better.” You huffed.

“I agree,” Tyrion agreed, nodding in understanding, “but don’t hold your breath. There is so much to be done before my nephew’s wedding and I will be relying on both of you to help me. While I am arranging more intimate details with my family, you two will be protecting me, but also doing some side tasks that I will not have time for. Bronn, for the most part you will be either at my side or Shae’s. If the palace discovers her they will use her against me. She can’t be found.”

Shae, Tyrion’s lover of sorts. You had grown close to her on your travels. You were wary at first. Your job was to protect Tyrion, naturally, you were cautious of anyone who might try to hurt him, to get close to him only for information or power. But it was a tough business, out spying a spy, and all your instincts told you to trust Shae. She had not left any of you astray thus far, and though the couple had not named their relationship, you could tell Tyrion and Shae cared immensely for each other. But Tyrion was right, she could be used as a pawn against him, especially if Cersei found out.

There was a sort of kinship between you and Shae. You were both strong, clever women, and she had tended to the few wounds you found yourself with on your travels. She seemed like a sister, and you were grateful for the company and friendship she provided.

“As for our favorite archer, you will be assisting some guests, getting information. I want to know the people attending this wedding, I want to ensure that this wedding goes smoothly. The Tyrell’s are a powerful ally, we cannot lose them.”

You nodded in understanding. Tyrion hired you to protect him, yes, but archery was not your only strength. You could be quiet, and you could listen as well as you could speak. You knew he would ask that of you with all the guests roaming around. You were curious to know what King’s Landing was really like, and even more interested in knowing the people who came here. “Ask it of me and it will be done.”

“Aye.” Bronn agreed.

“You are the most trusted of friends.” Tyrion gave the smallest of smiles. You were hesitant to even be in his service when the lord found you and offered you a job, afraid of losing your freedom. You knew the Lannisters, you knew their foul and power-hungry disposition. Being in their service seemed to you signing your life away. You were surprised to find he did not wish to take such things from you. He hired both you and Bronn to protect him, yes, but he would do the same for you both. You were an odd sort of family, but a family nonetheless. “Get settled and rested for the evening, we’ve had a long journey. We will reconvene later to discuss further plans.”

You nodded and left to your new chamber, one just across from Bronn and down the hall from Tyrion.

The trio was still not aware of the Red Viper slithering about the halls.

——————

Days passed with little to do. You hadn’t seen much of Tyrion. Since your arrival at King’s Landing your employer had become hand to his nephew king and married the pretty Stark girl you later learned was named Sansa. Still, you found ways to spend your time, keeping eyes and ears open for any useful information. You were particularly interested in Joffrey. It was astounding how a little boy could hold so much power, so much evil. You figured he inherited his terror from his mother.

Sansa was an interesting girl as well. Your heart broke for her. She was nothing if not resilient, staying loyal to her betrothed if only to keep herself alive. She was smart, you learned, but not useful when attempting to gather information. She did not deny her loyalty to Joffrey, even to those she liked. You were grateful that Tyrion stepped in to propose to the poor girl, if only to save her from the tyrant king. Both you and Shae kept close eyes on her. She was as smart and clever as Shae and yourself. You had a sneaking suspicion that she could be a close ally, if only your little family could get her away from the palace.

But today was different. Today you left your quarters to explore the palace a bit. You wanted to know what sort of battleground you were working with. It seemed surprising that a palace that was so heavily targeted was so...open. It seemed like light could illuminate any room. Even the gloomy and foreboding throne room could not escape a few beams of sunlight. If you didn’t despise every Lannister crawling about the palace, you had a mind to stay. The palace was only under the allusion of being warm and charming, the people who inhabited it ruined any chance of it being a lovely place. You noticed that the open windows and balconies made perfect outlooks should you need to eliminate a threat with one of your silver arrows.

But for now, the open windows became your place of peace as you ate a bowl of berries, just watching the rest of the sunrise. You saw the sun just barely grace the city with its light before you were called into Tyrion’s chambers. You arrived promptly, Bronn stumbling in a few minutes after you. You rolled your eyes at his lack of punctuality, which only earned you a playful nudge from the Lord of Highgarden.

“Behave you two. I swear I am dealing with children.” Shae huffed, but you could tell behind her sharp features was an air of mischief. Still, you straightened up and diverted your full attention to Tyrion.

“Well, much has happened. Prince Oberyn has arrived in The Capital. I visited him yesterday morning and he made it very clear that he wants to kill any Lannister that he sets his sights on. My father apparently ordered the death of his sister and her children. Our goal, for now, is to keep him happy, to keep him entertained. Bronn, your job will be to appear inconspicuous as you keep a watchful eye over my quarters, make sure no one goes in or out.” He ordered.

Shae huffed. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself thank you.” She huffed.

“No one disputes that my dear.” Tyrion chuckled. You remember watching Shae stab a man she did not want for laying a finger on her. “I’m not worried about you. But my sister and my king nephew are very powerful. They will know how to use you against me.” He explained. Shae still was not pleased with the idea, but she relented.

“As for our hawk,” he turned to you and gave you a list with names you did not recognize, “you will present these girls to Prince Oberyn in my place. You will tell him that royal duties as the king’s new hand have prevented me from revisiting him, but you hope he enjoys the whores as a welcoming gift to King’s Landing.”

“Excuse me?!” You snapped your eyes narrowing in on your employer. “I am not a squire whose job is to bring in girls for spoiled princes!”

“Do not think of it as that.” Tyrion poured himself a glass of wine, knowing that he should chose his next words very carefully. He could feel your eyes burning into him. “Consider it a diplomatic mission. Besides, the prince wishes to meet you. The legends of the Silver Hawk have reached so far as Dorne and he is eager to make your acquaintance. This is the perfect opportunity for the both of you.”

You still weren’t pleased. “So I am now to serve as entertainment for the prince of Dorne.” You sighed and shook your head. “I am only staying long enough to bring him the girls, then I’m leaving.”

“Fine,” Tyrion relented. “But you will be cordial to the prince. Don’t be deceived by his charming words, he stabbed one of my cousins for a few unkind, brutish remarks. I don’t want to know what he’ll do when he hears your fire-laced words.” If it weren’t such a serious situation, Tyrion might have been amused to hear you use your wit against a prince, but the prince’s history with the Lannisters was anything but a joke.

“I’m sure she can handle herself. Hawks have talons after all.” Shae teased, but squeezed your arm affectionately. You offered a kind smile, but you still loathed this plan.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Tyrion rubbed his temple like the very thought of you getting into trouble was enough to send him over the edge.

You relented and chuckled a little before placing a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “I will be on my best behavior, but only because you will worry yourself ill.” You teased. “It can’t be too bad if I just deliver your message and leave. I better get going though. Can’t leave a prince waiting.” You snorted. As if you cared what a prince thought.

————————

Oberyn Martell lied in his temporary bed at the brothel, Ellaria Sand at his right, a blond haired boy on his left. He was the picture of lustful bliss, his golden chest glistened as the small rays of light entered the sinful den. But the prince was quiet deep in thought as he started out into the empty space before them. All the pleasure the brothel had to offer could not break his focus.

“Your thoughts are too loud, my prince.” Ellaria chided as she placed a kiss to his chest. “Tell me.”

Even then, Oberyn still could not break his thoughts of you, but he ran a hand through his paramour’s raven curls in acknowledgment. “I think I found our third partner.”

Next Chapter

[dreamwritesimagines]

Beautiful and Damned 15- Late At Night [Geralt of Rivia x Reader]

A.N: Surprise chapter! My darlings, your wonderful feedback makes me so happy, thank you! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think of this chapter, kisses!

Reminder: This story will not follow the show’s plot, so even if you haven’t watched the series, you can still read it.

The previous chapters are on my masterlist!

Summary: Happiness comes unexpectedly .

Word Count: 3189

Warnings: Mentions of sex and violence.

The following days went in a blur, especially with the way everyone was so focused on the upcoming masquerade.

Everyone but Geralt, of course.

You had no idea what had caused him to hate such events, it sounded like it would be really fun and you could barely contain your excitement whenever you thought about it, but it was very clear to you that Geralt would not be joining.

The chatter in your chambers pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked around, then touched the masks lying on the table.

“I’m not sure if red is my color, your highness.” Cassie’s voice carried out from behind your dressing screen and you tilted your head.

“Nonsense, it will look wonderful.”

“I’m sure it will look beautiful Cassie.” Meriel said and Fin nodded.

“There’s no color that would look bad on you-Jaskier will you pick a mask or…?”

“I’m thinking!” Jaskier said, still looking at the two masks he was holding, “Wait- is this real gold?”

Fin shot him a look then wiggled his brows, “What do you think?”

“Cassie, do you need help with the corset?” Meriel called out and Cassie hesitated for a moment,

“Yes please?”

Meriel nodded to herself as she went behind the dressing screen and Ciri heaved a sigh then pulled a chair, making you turn your head.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t see why I can’t join.”

A giggle came from behind the dressing screen and you pursed your lips.

“It’s not very…. I doubt it will be a very appropriate party.”

“But there are costumes!”

“It’s not for kids, brat.” Fin joked, “You will attend many masquerades when you grow up, just be patient.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re attending.”

“Because it’s a part of my wedding celebrations, Ciri.”

“If it makes you feel any better, she’s not attending either,” Jaskier motioned at you and Fin suppressed a smile before he nodded.

“Yeah!” he said, “And- Geralt will not attend either, right sister?”

Your eyes widened and you gawked at him as it dawned on him what he had just asked, but then you cleared your throat.

“How would I know what Geralt will do, Fin?”

“Right!” Fin pointed at you breathlessly, “Yeah- of course, how would you know indeed? I just- yeah, Jaskier?”

“I’m his best friend and now you’re asking me?” Jaskier scoffed, “No. There’s no way he would ever join such a thing.”

“Why not?” you couldn’t help but ask and he shrugged,

“Geralt doesn’t really like….people. Or anything involving people.”

“So Geralt could join but doesn’t want to, and I want to but-“

“You can’t.” Jaskier and Fin said at the same time and Ciri rolled her eyes, then slouched in her seat, crossing her arms.

“All of you are terrible people.”

Your jaw dropped, “What did I do?” you asked her but before anyone could say anything else, Cassie stepped out from behind the dressing screen and the room fell into a stunned silence.

You had always known Cassie was absolutely gorgeous, and you knew that the whole court agreed with you but the vision of her in this dress was something else entirely. Her eyes were shining with excitement under the golden mask and she fixed her gloves, a huge smile playing on her lips.

“Is it too much?”

Jaskier stared at her, “Oh wow….” He mumbled and as if on cue, Fin fell onto his knees, dramatically clutching his chest,

“Am I dreaming? Am I dead? Jask, am I- have I been blinded by such beauty?”

You rolled your eyes at him and turned to Cassie who let out a giggle and sidled up to Meriel as if she was too embarrassed while Meriel gazed at her as if she was enchanted.

“You look so beautiful,” you assured her, “Honestly, people will die when they see you.”  

“Somebody is already dead,” Jaskier pointed at Fin and helped him up while Meriel giggled, burying her face to Cassie’s shoulder.

“Definitely red.” You pointed at Cassie and she nodded before she went back behind the dressing screen again.

“I’m going to miss everything,” Ciri announced into the room and Jaskier groaned.

“Ciri.”

“What, am I lying?” she challenged him and Fin groaned,

“Jaskier, the masquerade tomorrow so either you pick a mask, or-“

“You pick a mask first!”

“We all did, Meriel spent quarter of the time you spent!”

“I already knew what I wanted,” Meriel said from behind the dressing screen and Fin threw his hands up,

“The sooner you pick a mask, the sooner you can all help me with my crown for the wedding-“

“You still haven’t decided on that?!” You exclaimed, but before Fin could answer someone knocked on the door.

“Come in!” you called out, “Fin, mother will actually kill you-“

“Geralt?” Jaskier said and you instantly stopped talking, looking over your shoulder. Geralt’s lips pulled into a slight smile as his gaze fell upon you, but it lasted only for a second before he managed to fix his expression.

“I was wondering where you two were,” he nodded at Ciri and Jaskier held up two masks.

“Which one, Geralt?”

“Left.”

“You didn’t even think!”

“Fine, right one then,” Geralt said, making you pinch at your lips in order not to laugh, “Princess, can we talk for a moment?”

“Sure,” you smiled and followed him to the hall, but as soon as you were out of their sight he pulled you closer to his body.

“Hello,”

“Good afternoon,” you smiled up at him brightly, resting your gloved hands on his chest and he entwined his fingers with yours, raising his brows.

“It’s just that- I’m with others, so…” You mumbled, “To be safe.”

He nodded silently and pressed a kiss on your gloved hand, “Brings back the memories.”

“Shh!”

“What are you all doing in there?”

“Trying to decide on everybody’s masks,” you said, “Ciri is very upset that she can’t join.”

“She will get over it.”

“And are you certain that you will not join?”

He tilted his head to look at you, “Are you certain that you will?”

You nodded, “It will be the first time for me,” you said, “I designed everything accordingly, my mask, my dress… No one will be able to touch me or know who I am, but I will be there.”

He smiled and you took a deep breath.

“You could join though,” you offered again, “It could be fun?”

“It’s not exactly something I enjoy.”

“Dancing?”

“Dancing, masquerade balls….” He trailed off, “That whole crowd.”

You bit inside your cheek, “Oh. I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable, so I shall not press this issue any longer.”

He smiled, “You will not?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No, of course not.”

He looked almost surprised, but then took a deep breath,

“Your father wanted to see me.”

You pulled back, “My father? Why?”

“To hear about the witch, and whether I’m close to finding her.”

“Which you are,” you cleared your throat, “It’s a good thing- it’s a great thing!”

Geralt’s golden eyes locked into yours, “…Is it?”

“You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could say anything Fin’s voice reached you,

“Sister, please come here and tell them they’re being nonsense.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, lowering your head for a moment,

“And it ends.” You mumbled as he dragged his fingertips over your arm,

“I will see you tonight then?”

“I will make sure to be less busy then,” you giggled, stole a kiss from him and made your way to your chambers.

“Okay then,” you said, then crossed your arms, “Who’s being nonsense?”

                                       ***

It shouldn’t have been surprising for you when your mother sent a guard to take you to her chambers, but as always, you tried to ignore the uncomfortable feelings at the pit of your stomach. Ever since the news of Cranley attending the wedding had reached you, your mother was even more critical of everything you were doing.

So you could hardly blame yourself for tensing up when you finally stepped inside.

“Mother you asked for me?”

“Yes,” she said, “Take a seat.”

“I really can’t stay, I have so much to do.”

She pulled her brows together, “Like what?”

“Like… Um-“ you stammered, “Like helping Meriel with some… small accessory ideas for the wedding. For the masquerade as well, of course. Her and Fin need to blend in, so…”

She clicked her tongue, “I’d think you would be bitter.”

“Bitter? For what?”

“For not being able to join this masquerade.” She said, “It seems like a nonsensical issue you would exaggerate for sure.”

You clenched your jaw, but then managed to smile,

“Not really,” you said, “I know it’s going to be full of people and… I’d hate to put people in danger.”

She shrugged, “There’s that,” she said, “And also, once this curse is broken, you will get to dance at your wedding all you want.”

You could feel your stomach doing an unpleasant flip.

“My wedding,” you said, “Right. Of course.”

“Speaking of which…” she said as she walked to her drawer, “The last time you were here, I forgot to give you this.”

She pulled open a drawer and grabbed a letter with the seal of-

Oh.

Oh no.

You knew exactly what that crest meant, and who it belonged to.

“Prince Cranley sent you a letter along with sending us the news of him joining the wedding.”

You eyed the envelope in her hand, “Do I have to read it?”

“Y/N, it’s from your future husband.”

“Whom I shall see soon enough,” you stated, “I don’t see why-“

“Take the letter,” she said and you heaved a sigh, then took it from her and broke the wax seal. You could feel the goosebumps appearing on your skin as your eyes skimmed the lines.

It was too expectable, really. The whole letter was filled with a sense of arrogance, something that you could sense even though he was miles away, even though you were merely reading it and not hearing his voice. When you got to the paragraph about how he was looking forward to have you as his wife beside his throne, you gritted your teeth.

To an outsider, it would probably look like a normal love letter but to you, it was nothing but the bitter reminder of how he wouldn’t see you as his equal.

In fact, judging by this letter, you were beginning to think Cranley didn’t see anyone as his equal. It was all about his future victories, his ambition, his rule, his legacy.

Nothing about you at all.

“So?”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, then heaved a sigh.

“It’s a letter,” you shrugged, “They’re all similar if you ask me. He says he’s looking forward to having this curse broken.”

“We’re all looking forward to that,” she said, “Once it’s done, you can finally marry and rule beside Cranley.”

“Behind Cranley, you mean.” You corrected him, “Cranley doesn’t look like a person who believes in ruling beside his wife.”

“Every couple is different,” she said, “Who knows? Maybe you could change his mind.”

“Is that my duty then?” you asked bitterly, “To make him different?”

She shot you a look, “Y/N…”

“Are you not scared that I might end up miserable?”

“I’m sure you will end up miserable if you keep letting your sharp tongue take control of you,” she stated, “Does not seem to stop you though, does it?”

You shut your eyes for a moment, then looked at her, “Am I excused, mother?”

“Yes,” she said, “Seems as if you only dampen my mood when you’re here. I’d suggest you to go to your chambers and read that letter again,” she leaned in closer, “That’s your future husband, Y/N. Whether you like it or not.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, then eyed her up and down and stormed out of her chambers.

Breathe.

In and out.

It’s going to be alright.

                                                           ***

You had always liked a nightly routine.

It was almost peaceful, being able to focus on yourself. It managed to distract you from your worries and relax your mind in a way. After excusing Cassie for the night, you changed into your nightgown and stretched out, then ran your fingertips over the vials on your nightstand in front of the mirror, then grabbed the one to the right, spilled some into your palms and rubbed your palms together before applying it over your wrists and your neck. The sweet scent of the lavender wafted through the room, making you take a deep breath to enjoy it, and you closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again.

You pulled the ribbons out of your hair, massaging your scalp to get rid of the slight ache, then grabbed the second vial to get a couple of drops into your palm to put it on your hair, but before you could grab your comb a noise coming from the window made you turn your head. You pulled your brows together, unsure whether to get the guards or not but in a second, Geralt jumped inside the room through your window, making you let out a breath.

Even the sight of him was more than enough to put your heart at ease.

“Geralt,” you said, standing up, “I have no guards by my door, you could’ve just used it-“ your smile faded a little when you saw the state he was in, “Are you alright?”

Even you could tell something was off. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but even the way he breathed felt strange, it was as if he was less in control. The small gash by his forehead must’ve had stopped bleeding by the time he got to your room, but the black stains on his armor could not be good news-

Monster’s blood. You remembered, Right.

You didn’t get to ask anything else when he made his way to you to crash his lips to yours, taking you by surprise. The surge of desire was almost too sudden for you to even understand it especially through your shock, Geralt had always been very careful with you even while kissing you, but this-

You couldn’t say it wasn’t a pleasant change.

Your back hit the wall as he walked you back, drawing a gasp from you as he leaned in, then his hands went under your hips to lift you up, holding you tight between his body and the wall. You could feel your heartbeat going crazy as a growl climbed up his chest, and his hand went into your hair to tug at it a little, his lips pressed against your throat. You could feel the room turning around you and in a haste your head collided back with the wall, making you let out a hiss of pain.

Of course he noticed that.

Of course he would.

He lifted his head, the darkness in his eyes diminishing just a little and he stared at you for a moment before putting you down, then stepping back as if you had just burnt him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you-“

“You didn’t!” you insisted, “I- I got too excited, it was me- Geralt, what-?”

But he had already grunted under his breath, then he walked away from you to sit down on your bed, taking deep breaths. You tried to catch your own breath, your skin still tingling because of his touch and pressed your swollen lips together, then stepped closer to him.

“What happened?” you asked softly, and his jaw clenched as he stared into space in complete silence. You took another step, then gathered your long skirts to settle on his lap, his arms going around you to hold you tight almost immediately. He buried his nose into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath as you dragged your fingers through his hair, waiting patiently.

“You were hurt.” He muttered against your neck and you pulled back slightly.

“What?”

“Before I… before I killed it,” he said through clenched teeth, “The monster- it showed me something. You were hurt. Dying.”

You ran your fingernails over his slight stubble, “I was here.”

He nodded slowly, still unable to look you in the eye as if you could disappear if you did, as if he was scared of what he would see. He turned his head to press a kiss into your palm, and you smiled softly.

“Geralt.”

“You were-“ he shook his head, “You were choking on your blood. Then it changed and you said-” he stopped talking, as if the memory was too painful but you frowned slightly.

“What did I say?”

“That you could never love me,” his voice was almost too low, “You could never be with a monster like me, and you were going to leave, and….that it was my fault.”

You could almost feel your heart breaking and a lump appeared in your throat, but you tried to swallow it and shifted in his lap.

“Can you look at me please?”

His gold gaze rose to meet yours, and for the hundredth time, you felt as if you would lose yourself in his eyes, but managed to focus.

“Whatever that monster showed you,” you said, “Could not have been more wrong. I don’t know what it made you believe but I would never say such things.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. Geralt, I-“ you hesitated for a moment, nibbling on your lip, but took a deep breath.

“I love you,” you said, “More than you could ever understand. More than what’s good for me, possibly. But I’m not hurt, and I’m not leaving you.”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes searching yours as if he wanted to see whether you were sincere or not.

“I-“ he took a deep breath, “I need you to…. I need you.”

You could swear that you heart melted, and when you talked your voice was a mere whisper;

“Then have me.”

He stared at you for a moment, then pulled you closer to him to brush his lips against yours. It was almost tentative, as if trying to prove to himself that you were there, that you were real-

As if you could just slip through his fingers.

Somehow, deep down, you knew this was different. It was different to all those times he kissed you, all the times he touched you, and even you could tell that he had given up on trying to control himself.

Finally, thank Gods.

You felt him stand up with you still in his arms, and he placed you on the bed, your legs tightening around him as he looked down at you.

“Princess-“

“Yes,” you managed to smile even if your heart was beating in your ears, “I know. Yes.”

That seemed to be enough for him, because he crashed his lips to yours and the pleasure shot through you, making you feel like you were in a dream as your eyes fluttered close.

                                                       ***

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[9worldstales]

MCU Loki: Why so far it had been disappointing how the series has dealt with what the TVA had been doing

Right from when the series started I carried on the belief that what the TVA was doing was horrible, a mix between a Nazi regime and a fanatical cult down to the elements of police brutality, to the extermination and persecution of people they felt different and lesser, detrimental for their own self being all out of blind faith to something they were indoctrinated into.

I was expecting a serious analysis of this from the show since Waldron seemed to be so enthusiast of the TVA as it was his creature

“The TVA is just an entirely new world [with] a new cast of characters, and that’s what felt most exciting about the show: building a new corner of the MCU.’ What if this was the best show ever?’ I think that was literally my pitch. My pitch for the show was kind of a big, crazy, fun-time adventure.”

[‘Loki’ Writer Michael Waldron On Building ‘A New Corner Of The MCU’]

References to the TVA being bad needed to wait till Ep. 3 “Lamentis 1” and where just two lines:

Sylvie: So, naturally you went to work for the boring, oppressive time police. [Ep 3]

Sylvie: It must have started when I spent my entire life running from the omniscient fascists you work for. [Ep 3]

More than focusing on how horrid the TVA is, both sentences criticize Loki for cooperating with the TVA even if he was forced into it as he couldn’t escape, cooperating with them was his only way to survive, the implication being he should have taken the hero route and die instead than accept to join forces with the TVA.

Mind you, it could have been an interesting angle to look at. How people can embrace terrible things in order to survive. After all we saw Loki cooperating with Thanos under the promise if he were to fail recovering the Tesseract death would be a preferable option than failure.

THE OTHER: You will have your war, Asgardian. If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he can't find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain.

The series could have drawn parallels from both situations, either making a point one should never bent or that sometimes you can’t do anything else but bent because not everyone is born as a hero, or because you’re just waiting for a time in which you can oppose as sometimes getting heroically killed for your ideals can be also very unproductive.

But no, it’s not this series.

Loki will maintain he accepted to work with the TVA not because his other option was being killed (something that’s remarked more than once), but because he wanted to get to the Time-Keepers to steal their powers or something like that. If he’s lying to himself to cope with the situation that’s not a problem the series pose to itself as the series seem to embrace this explanation even if it made clear Loki would be reset if he didn’t cooperate.

Episode 3 also introduces the idea that people at the TVA works under a false belief. They think they were created by the Time-Keepers but in truth they are brainwashed Variants they kidnapped from their timelines.

Okay, it was another possible interesting route. Loki was a Frost Giant raised on the idea he was an Asgardian, there could be a parallel here… though one that, for the TVA, was less interesting.

The TVA members are enthusiastic believers. Most of them show no empathy toward the Variants, no pity. They belittle and humiliate them, handle them as beings with no rights, punish them for not obeying rules they didn’t know existed in the first place. Feelings rage from enjoying doing it to just doing it the way a boot steps over a ant to use a familiar metaphor.

The fact that in episode 4 B-15, after discovering the truth, will go: ‘I looked happy (in my previous life)!’ doesn’t really make me feel very sorry for her on an intellectual plan.

Yes, what the TVA did to B-15 was wrong, but what about what she did to others without a single remorse? Enjoying her work?

But, whatever, not everyone on the TVA seemed to belittle Variants, in ep 1 & 2 Mobius showed some form of pity for them, not enough it’ll stop him but enough we can think he didn’t enjoy what was being done to the Variants so knowing how he’ll react could be interesting, couldn’t it?

We reach Ep. 4 “Nexus Event”.

While we see the TVA did to a child version of Sylvie what they did to Loki and this time there isn’t any ounce of doubt that it wasn’t fun, this isn’t really used to throw shades at the TVA but to underline how Sylvie’s life was miserable.

Sylvie: I remember Asgard. Not much, but I remember. My home, my people, my life. The universe wants to break free, so it manifests chaos. Like me being born the Goddess of Mischief. And as soon as that created a big enough detour from the Sacred Timeline, the TVA showed up, erased my reality, and took me prisoner. I was just a child. I escaped. Stole a TemPad and I ran for a long, long time, which really sucked. Everywhere and every-when I went, it caused a nexus event. Sent up a smoke flare. Because I'm not supposed to exist. Until, eventually, I figured out where to hide. And so that's where I grew up, the ends of a thousand worlds. ( /Scoffs/ ) Now... that's where I'll die.

Thanks to the TVA, so it’s possible to make the connection that if Sylvie was in pain due to the TVA the TVA is a bad guy, but it’s again left vague.

In an episode that feel the need to have Loki define himself as a ‘horrible person’ and a ‘narcissist’, that calls him ‘an asshole and a bad friend’ using ‘a cockroach's survival mechanism’ when he actually says the truth and how he is a ‘conniving, craven, pathetic worm’ who should know he ‘deserve to be alone and always will be’ let’s not talk about how terrible the TVA is.

After all, according to the previous episode they’re just ‘boring, oppressive, omniscient fascists’. Nothing big.

And it’s nothing big, really.

C-20, B-15 and even Mobius, once discovering the truth are solely concerned about how the TVA lied to them, not of how they had been the TVA accomplices into wiping countless lives from existence.

Hunter B-15: I looked happy. What now?

Hunter C-20: "Calm down"? I'm a Variant. So are you. So is every single person in this place. I'm ending this.

Mobius: You know where I'd go if I could go anywhere? Wherever it is I'm really from. Yeah, wherever I had a life before the TVA came along. Maybe I had a jet ski. That's what I'd like to do. Just riding around on my jet ski.

They don’t care about what they had done with the TVA, they are okay with burning the place merely because the TVA has wronged them. But okay, maybe they need time to elaborate, to realize the implication of what they’ve done.

For C-20, who was reset, there’s no more time but…

Hunter B-15: Why am I locked in here?

Renslayer: You freed the Variant. You were disloyal to the TVA.

Hunter B-15: Disloyal?

Renslayer: Did you think you'd escape punishment for that?

Hunter B-15: Disloyal to who? You were in the Time-Keepers' chambers. They weren't real.

Renslayer: And why does that change anything?

Hunter B-15: That changes everything! The people need to know the truth.

Actually what the people need prior to that is to stop. Stop pruning other existences who’re exactly the same as their own. The biggest problem, the biggest CRIME isn’t that the TVA has done TO THEM, as, in doing so, it has at least spared their lives, it’s that they had killed countless galaxies and continue doing so.

So we move to Mobius.

I… I really don’t get what the series wants to do with Mobius. Although he wasn’t perfect, he seemed a decent guy in episode 1 & 2, one that wouldn’t enjoy hurting or scaring Variants without a reason. Yes he believed they needed to be eliminated… but didn’t enjoy doing it.

Yes, the way he ‘interrogated’ Loki in episode 1 was bad… but he believed he was doing only his work, that interrogation might have a point, some of the things he said weren’t meant to be just verbally abusive for the sake of it but were part of his ‘credo’ in which people had to follow the path of the sacred timeline and a side of him might have felt sympathy or pity for him. Although he knew it was risky he wanted to have faith in Loki.

Episode 4 tossed all that away with the worst interrogation scene possible. It contained gratuitous beating, psychological abuse/manipulation, derogatory comments, pointless questions while Mobius defined himself as Loki’s friend in the same episode. That scene has no purpose if not to beat and belittle Loki. What’s worse, when Mobius discovers the truth and goes to Loki, instead than asking him how he feels after such a beating he asks him what he’s doing… and I won’t dig into the rest of the conversation because it’s horrid.

Mobius’ ideas of apology for what he has done to his supposed friend is:

Mobius: You were right, about the TVA. You were right from the beginning. And if you wanna save her, you need to trust me. Can we do that?

Loki: Yes.

Mobius: Okay. You could be whoever, whatever you wanna be, even someone good. I mean, just in case anyone ever told you different.

It was Mobius who told him differently. Okay, he has acknowledged Loki was right and he was wrong but not that he had unfairly had him beaten for God knows how long for no reason. But okay, maybe Mobius too needed time to internalize all that, so let’s look at episode 5.

Let’s face it, no, what Mobius did to Loki won’t come up again with Loki, Sylvie will merely tell Loki (and to us) Mobius ‘isn't so bad’ and that he cares about Loki. Loki will counter Mobius isn’t so good either but that’s why he gets along with him.

I… I’m not sure what the series is trying to do at this point with Mobius, all we get about what he did with the Variants in Episode 5 is this.

Mobius: All that time, I really believed we were the good guys.

Sylvie: Annihilating entire realities, orphaning little girls, classic hero stuff.

Mobius: Well, I guess when you think the ends justify the means, there's not much you won't do. By the way, you did some annihilating too.

Sylvie: I did what I had to do.

Mobius: Yeah, so did I.

Sylvie: You hunted me like a dog.

Mobius: I'm sorry about that.

Mobius admits they weren’t the good guys, which would be great if it wasn’t for the fact the moment Sylvie points out how he was dumb at not realizing it sooner because we finally are told that the TVA is responsible for ‘Annihilating entire realities, orphaning little girls’, Mobius defends his actions!

The ends justify the means, you did some annihilating too, I did what I had to do.

Hey, news flash, no, those aren’t excuses. This is not a game about who annihilated more make penitence and anyway, if this was the case, the TVA wins. You killed countless people and now you’re complaining you aren’t a hero? That others are bad too? That you were forced to do it when you were a willing believer that refused to question things even though Loki immediately pointed out how it all was dumb?

Mobius: Odin, God of the Heavens. Asgard, mystical realm, beyond the stars. Frost Giants. Listen to yourself...

Loki: It's not the same. It's completely different. No. It's not the same.

Mobius: It's exactly the same thing. Because if you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous. Existence is chaos. Nothing makes any sense, so we try to make some sense of it. And I'm just lucky that the chaos I emerged into gave me all this... My own glorious purpose. Cause the TVA is my life. And it's real because I believe it's real.

It took Sylvie remarking he hunted her like a animal to finally get him to apologize on something… and she’s the only one he apologizes to.

We don’t hear him apologizing to the other Loki Variants and this is his new glorious purpose:

Kid Loki: Mobius, assuming you do get back to the TVA, what exactly are you getting yourself into?

Mobius: I don't know. I'd like to let people know the truth.

Again it seems the biggest deal is the TVA lied to them and took them away from their lives, not that they pruned countless others without a care.

There’s no self reflection, there’s no horror for what they had done to the other Variants who were just like them.

When Kid Loki and Classic Loki say they’ll remain there because that’s their home he doesn’t counter ‘no, this isn’t and I’m sorry we let you believe this.’ It’s Loki who worries for them, pointing out the dangers of the place. Mobius, who’s either directly responsible or connected to the one responsible for them ending there and losing their whole world, says nothing.

So his sympathy toward the Variants, his pity… was it all fake?

Doesn’t he care anymore? This is the road the story decided to go with him?

Since Mobius has gained popularity into the fandom thanks to the first 2 episodes, to Owen Wilson and to those who shipped him with Loki, let’s strip him of what really made him great, the fact he didn’t enjoy mistreating the Variants and turns him into someone who doesn’t care?

What next, is he going to become the new villain?

Damn it, this series started with a full episode questioning what Loki did in New York, pointing out how Loki’s belief ‘he would make it easy for humans’ because ‘freedom is a lie’ is an idiocy, how he was just a murderer and asking him if he enjoyed hurting people and making him say that no, he didn’t that he was bad, that he was a narcissist and yadda, yadda, yadda, then it turns out Mobius annihilated entire realities, orphaning little girls, all because freedom is a lie and we’ve all to do what the Time-Keepers decided and let’s have the guy you call friend beaten up at random for no good reason and… and that’s what we get?

That he rebels to the Time-Keepers because they had dared to lie TO HIM about not having created him?

Is the series trying to make a point about how people at the TVA can accuse Loki of not being good but they’re actually worse because they did much worse and didn’t care at all about their victims?

Is it a critic to society, that find easy to criticize someone but can’t admit they do worse? Won’t even see they’re doing worse and would resent instead for any little slight done to them?

It would be an interesting theme… the problem is it doesn’t seem to be the goal of the series as it tends to overlook the TVA, its fascist behaviour and the annihilation of civilizations at the hands of willing, albeit indoctrinated members, to focus more on how the TVA wronged solely Sylvie (her complain about her being orphaned is more about HER being orphaned than about HER PARENTS having been killed) and the TVA members.

It’s fair to see the TVA members as victims… they are… but what about the other Variants who got erased? What about how the TVA members had been complicit in said elimination, enjoying it, gratuitously mistreating and belittling Variants before eliminating them?

Is it just up to us viewers realize it because the story isn’t going to do the work for us?

I don’t know. I hope the last episode will do something to fix this.

There’s still an episode after all and maybe I’m worrying over nothing, maybe someone, Mobius preferably because I want to go back considering him a decent guy, not perfect because nobody is perfect but decent, and I don’t like what episode 4 has done with him, will regret what was done to way too many people by the ones who were working at the TVA.

I’ll be fine if they still need to internalize what they had done... but I’d like for them to be done internalizing before the series ends because otherwise it’s just skipping over the whole topic.

So... I’ll try to keep hopeful. Maybe they won’t disappoint me.

[fanficshiddles]

Don’t Disobey, Chapter 1 (READ THE WARNINGS!!!)

Summary: Loki’s attack on Midgard was a success. He’s become ruler of Earth, over all the mortals. The Avengers were defeated. Over time he’s taken over every country and city. Now he’s going for the smaller towns and villages to conquer, recruiting strong men for his army and beautiful young women to be his sex slaves.

Ivy is captured amongst some other girls. She is smart and knows from the tales of Loki’s palace that it is best to behave to survive. But being a good girl quickly makes her Loki’s favourite. And being his favourite is not going to be easy for Ivy.

WARNINGS: RAPE/NON-CON, VIOLENCE, MURDER, KIDNAPPING, SEX SLAVES, IRON BRANDING, CUTTING OFF TONGUES, CHOKING, OVER STIMULATION, FORCED TATTOOS, BREAKING BONES. (I’ll add more on future chapters as I go) 

Loki is not nice in this fic! There is no happy ending where he turns soft and falls in love for the OC. In-case that’s what anyone is looking for. I dunno why, I was just craving some really nasty Loki… See how far I could go with it… It’s a long chapter, in my standards anyway. But this fic won’t be updated as often as the others, but I think this fic will only have maybe five or so chapters, if that… But who knows. Gotta be in the right headspace for this! Lol.

-

Ivy was shaking badly as she was marched into the castle. Taken from her village along with some other young women, they were flown over to where Loki had taken up residence in Prague castle. It being to his liking the most out of all of Earths castles… A few adjustments here and there to make it even more extravagant and he now called it home.

Loki’s rule of Earth had devastated everyone. For reasons unknown to the humans, he wasn’t very sparing of lives. Thousands and thousands of people had been murdered within the first year for things as small as being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Everyone in prison had been culled off, along with elders in care homes and sick people in hospitals of all ages.

The internet was monitored constantly, anyone saying anything slightly bad about Loki was hunted down and slaughtered. He had eyes everywhere.

One of the first laws brought in was couples weren’t allowed to have more than one child. It was clear that Loki was trying to lessen the human population. But what the humans didn’t know, was it was the only condition from Thanos for Loki’s rule. To thin out the herd.

The group of women were taken straight to Loki, who was in the throne room. He was sat on his throne, legs splayed like he owned the place… Well, the whole damn world for that matter.

His horned helmet caused a huge and terrifying shadow behind him from the lights, some of the girls started panicking and tried to back up, but the guards surrounded them and wouldn’t allow them to leave.

Ivy remained near the front, arms wrapped around herself as she shook on the spot. She kept her eyes down, especially when she heard Loki get up from his throne and make his way down the steps towards them all.

The guards pushed at the girls, getting them to line up just as Loki reached them.

‘Well, what have we here? New toys for me to play with, how delightful.’ Loki grinned and started at one end, looking the girl up and down.

‘Too old.’ The woman was grabbed roughly and dragged away as Loki took a step down the line to the second girl.

‘Too skinny, she would break far too easily for what I have in store.’ He flicked his hand to dismiss her. She was also dragged away. To god knows where, Ivy dreaded to think.

The third girl looked defiantly up at him, nose scrunched up. ‘You will NEVER be my King!’ She spat at him, shocking everyone but Loki. The guards went to move in, but Loki swiftly grabbed her face as he leaned down towards her, sneering.

‘You dare talk at your King like that.’ He squeezed her cheeks hard, making her open her mouth as she cried out in pain. Loki quickly grabbed her tongue and hauled it out as far as it would go, then as quick as lightning he cut it off with his dagger.

The girl fell to the ground in agony, clutching at her mouth. Tears streamed down her face but she couldn’t make much noise at the loss of her tongue.

The other girls, including Ivy, cried out in fear upon seeing the girls tongue land on the floor on front of them. But Ivy quickly closed her eyes and kept herself in check, while the others kept crying and trying to get away.

Loki looked along the line, smirking at their reactions. ‘Let this be a lesson to you girls. Under my rule there are consequences for your actions.’ He started walking down the line as he spoke. ‘There are also rewards for good behaviour, so you best choose wisely how you proceed.’

Ivy couldn’t take it anymore. She was so scared for her life. Hearing all the rumours before about being under Loki’s command, she knew she just had to try and survive. That was the only goal here.

So she sank to her knees on front of him, head down in respect.

Loki had just passed her, but he stopped when he saw the girl falling to her knees before him. He took slow, menacing steps back towards her until he towered over her. Ivy could see his boots appear in her line of vision.

He reached down and smoothed his hand through her hair, his touch making her jump at first, though it seemed gentle… But then he gripped hold of it tightly and yanked her head right back so she was to look up at his face.

His rather beautiful features caught her off guard for a second. But being a God, it wasn’t surprising he was handsome. It was just such a shame his personality was so cruel.

‘What’s your name?’ He asked, eyeing her up carefully.

‘I… Ivy… My King.’ She whimpered, her lower lip trembling.

‘Ivy.’ Her name rolled off his tongue. He released her hair and took a step backwards. ‘Everyone could take a leaf out of Ivy’s book… Smart girl, knows her place in this world.’ He said as he glanced back down at her. Then he looked to his guards. ‘Take her to my chambers.’

A guard grabbed her arm and led her away. She didn’t look over her shoulder when she heard one of the other girls starting to cry hysterically, but was quickly silenced. How, she dreaded to think.

Being captured by Loki was not the time nor the place to make friends, or to even look out for established friends. It was every woman for herself now.

And Ivy knew she had to be selfish and look out for number one.

-

Loki waltzed into his quarters and to his harem of girls.

All of them cowered and tried to avoid eye contact when he entered. Some of them scurried off into other rooms, while others continued with the chores of keeping the place tidy.

‘Where is my new girl?’ Loki asked the girl nearest him.

‘Awaiting you in your chambers, Sir.’ The girl said with her head down.

Loki nodded, then looked her up and down. ‘Turn.’ He swivelled his finger around.

The girl looked absolutely petrified, but she turned around for him. His hand shot out and he gripped her shoulder tightly, stopping her as he looked down at her backside.

‘Where’s your plug?’ He asked, his tone rising.

‘I… I’m sorry, Sir… I… I had to take it out when I went to the toilet… I couldn’t get it back in… I’m so sorry.’ She started sobbing.

Loki grabbed her hair tightly and pulled her across the room, she struggled to keep up with him and fell to the ground, but was dragged along by her hair as Loki was on a mission. The other girls around looked on, but didn’t do anything to help. Knowing better.

She was dragged over to the fire place, Loki hauled her on front of it and pushed her down onto her stomach. He put his foot on her lower back to keep her in place when she tried to crawl away. ‘Stay there!’ He snarled.

The girl begged and cried for his forgiveness, continuously struggled underneath him. He pushed down firmer on her back, making her yelp in pain.

He grabbed the branding iron from beside the fireplace and placed it right into the fire, heating it up nicely until it was scalding hot. The girl could hear the sizzling as he drew it closer towards her. She struggled anew, screaming so loudly that it could be heard throughout his quarters.

And that was before it had even touched her.

Loki clicked his fingers and a ball gag was placed into her mouth to shut her up a bit. But as he pressed the iron brand against her backside, it didn’t do much to drown out her screams of pain.

Ivy started shaking all over again when she heard the painful screams of another girl in the main room. She tried to block it out, closing her eyes and head down. She had been told by a guard how to be ready for Loki’s arrival in his room. To be naked and kneeling on the floor, hands behind her back.

But even though she knew she was doing what she was told, it still hadn’t prepared her for when she heard the heavy foot-steps of Loki coming into the room. And the click from the door as it was closed made her blood run cold. She knew that meant it was just her and him in the room… All alone.

Loki hummed in approval as he looked over his new play thing. She seemed obedient, which was good. Better behaved than any other girls so far, none had ever knelt for him without him telling them to upon first meeting.

His helmet vanished and so did his heavy armour, leaving just the underlay. He strolled over to Ivy and circled her, taking in every part of her. He could see her trembling in his presence, that made him smirk.

He reached out and cupped her chin, making her look up at him, her eyes were skittish as she looked up at him. A small whimper of fear escaped from her lips, she had been unable to contain it.

‘Shhh, shhh.’ He soothed, brushing his thumb up and down her cheek. ‘We both know that you’re a clever girl. If you do exactly as you are told, you will have no reason to fear me.’ Loki spoke calmly, almost putting her at ease. But she knew better.

‘There are rules here, you should know.’ He let go of her chin and stood up straight, she put her head down again, looking to the floor.

‘You are to address me as Sir, unless I state otherwise. I do not accept no as an answer, ever. I don’t want to hear that word from your lips, under any circumstance. You are not to wear clothes again, aside from on me they are banished in these quarters.’ He walked over to a dresser and opened it, pulling out some rope. ‘You can converse with the other girls, aside from when I am in the same room, then I demand utter silence from you unless answering a question from me.’ He crossed the room towards Ivy and moved behind her, he tied her wrists together at her back as he continued. ‘I don’t mind if you girls want to play around with one another, providing there is not a single mark on any of you that wasn’t put there by me.’ He leaned down so she could feel his breath against her ear. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

She swallowed hard before answering. ‘Yes, Sir.’ She said quietly.

‘Good girl.’ Loki purred, kissing her shoulder. ‘Now, I am going to mark you, as all my girls get when they arrive. Usually there is a trial period, but I have a good feeling about you.’ He gave her head a pat and then took hold of her bound hands to lift her up to her feet.

He walked her over to his bed and lay her down on her front.

‘I am not a beginner when it comes to restraining girls, so don’t think for a second I won’t do it if I have to. But I prefer submission, so you will remain still until told otherwise.’ He said as he got on the bed too, straddling over her lower legs.

Ivy had no idea what to expect, but she was bloody terrified. Not wanting to make him angry, she was going to do her best to remain still…

But then the pain started.

Using his Seidr, Loki was giving her a permanent tattoo on her lower back. Simply using his finger, though it felt exactly like a tattoo gun. But more painful.

She bit down on the quilt underneath her, hoping she wouldn’t get into trouble for it. But it helped her to focus on something other than screaming in pain.

Loki noticed her hands clench into fists. She jerked a little, but remained rather still. The most still he’d seen a girl stay when applying his tattoo. Yes, this one was going to be good. He was excited to start playing with her, see how responsive she was and what she could do.

But he had a feeling she was going to be exquisite. Her submission already, clearly from a place of fear, was highly arousing. He had been sporting a hard on ever since she knelt for him in the throne room.

After carving his name into her, to be there forever, he was pleased with how she’d taken it. She was in tears, but the noises from her had been minimal. He had noticed her biting the quilt, letting small whimpers of pain escape but nothing more.

That pleased him greatly.

He ran his hand over her lower back, growling deep in approval. But he wanted her to see it. He wanted her to see that she was now his property.

Getting off the bed, he snapped his fingers to get her attention. ‘Come on, up.’

She hurriedly got up, albeit awkwardly because of her hands still being restrained behind her, and slipped off the bed to stand on front of him.

He turned her around and walked her over to a full-length mirror. He then had another appear behind her, at the right angle so she could see her back. He stood to the side, watching for her reaction as she looked at her new tattoo.

First, surprise crossed her features, then fear, and then she looked kind of intrigued. No doubt at how he managed to do that without a tattoo gun.

‘You belong to me now, pet.’ He said darkly, having the second mirror vanish he moved in behind her and ran his hand down her spine, stroking his name again. Then he moved in close, she saw him looming over her in the mirror, so much bigger than she was. He practically enveloped her entirely.

‘What do you think of your tattoo? Hmm?’ He reached around and started stroking her body, over her stomach and upwards, fondling at her breasts in turn while he waited an answer.

‘If… If you are happy with it, Sir… Then I am too.’ She whispered, trying not to cry as he started stroking her nipples that were hardening under his touch, much to her embarrassment.

Loki smirked, clever indeed. Picking her responses carefully, hoping to please him. He liked that.

‘Have you been shown around my quarters? Where you’re allowed to roam?’ He asked, his hands falling from her body.  

‘No, Sir.’ She said quietly, shaking her head.

‘Come then, let me show you around before we play.’ He turned on his heels and headed for the door. Ivy scurried after him, having to take quicker steps to keep up with his long legs.

She felt very self-conscious being naked, not only around Loki but around the other girls too. Though they were all naked as well, so at least that levelled out the playing field.

Loki made sure she was following him and he showed her throughout his quarters. There was one room she wasn’t allowed in unless she was with him. But he showed her into it just now anyway. But her eyes widened when the door swung open and it was filled with various machines and contraptions, they all looked like torture devices in some way.

But in the middle of the room, on a Sybian machine, restrained and going nowhere, was a young woman. She was completely limp as the machine buzzed like mad underneath her, a vibe was nestled inside of her cunt and a part of it was covering her clit. It was relentless and she was completely overstimulated, it was agony.

‘Oh, so sorry dear. I forgot I’d tied you here last night.’ Loki said with a slight chuckle as he walked over to the girl and turned the machine off.

There was drool coming from her leather gag, it was soaked through. And there was a mess of excreta and arousal all down the Sybian and on the floor.

‘What a mess you’ve made.’ Loki chastised. As soon as he untied her wrists that had been tied behind her and to the wall, to keep her upright on the machine, she fell forward to the floor. Loki tsked in annoyance and nudged her with his foot. But she was completely out of it, being stuck on the machine for near twenty-four hours had broken her. She couldn’t even feel her clit anymore, likely so much nerve damage after having many orgasms forced from her and enjoying it at first.

Ivy swallowed hard and tried her best to get rid of the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

‘GIRLS!’ Loki yelled and soon two girls came running to see what he wanted.

‘Get her out of here and cleaned up. Then get this mess cleaned up too, if it’s not sorted within ten minutes, I will tie each of you to this machine for longer than she had.’ He said in warning.

The two girls squeaked in fear and quickly got to work.

Loki saw the colour had drained from Ivy’s face, making him grin. He walked back over to her with a predatory look and put his arm around her, leading her out and back towards his bedroom.

‘Come, pet. I want to see what fun I can have with you.’

[image-thot]

A Song of the Gods- Chapter 3

“Alright, I will marry him.” She said in defeat. Heras tone changes completely from menacing to happy in a mere second.

“Oh, I just knew you would, but don't fret my dear,” she said as she lightly embraced Alyx. “Your wedding ceremony won't actually take place for another six weeks; this will give you and Ares time to adjust to your new linked lives.”

Hera nearly let out a giggle in the thought of it. “Now you go run along.” she waved her hand dismissively as Alyx went to leave.

“One more thing, should I or Ares catch you and Hermes being too overly friendly, there will be server consequences.”  She said with a smirk as Alyx made her way out of the garden.

She tried desperately to stop the hot tears from spilling down her face as she made her way quickly back to her chambers. She desperately wanted the company of her beloved Hermes but knowing that it could cause him harm, she was not sure if she should seek him out.

She slipped into her chambers closing the doors behind, the tears starting to roll down her face. The voice of Hermes cut through the barrage of thoughts causing her to freeze.

“Ah, you've returned my love! I have already drawn us a bath, to relieve you of whatever stress Hera has Caus-” As Hermes rounded the corner from the private bath to the main room, he could immediately see and feel something was wrong and within a heartbeat, he had her wrapped in his arms.

After a few seconds of her crying into his tunic, he slightly parted from her to assess whether there was any physical wounded to her. If the circumstance were any different, she would have commented on how cute he looked right then and there.

“My love, what has Hera done to you.”  Hermes question bringing his forehead to rest on hers in an attempt to comfort her. “Has she caused any injuries of the mind or-”

“She has commanded me to wed Ares.” She says as tears fall down her cheeks as she looks away from him. “If I refused, she would have killed you and-”

“Tell me you didn’t accept this!?” Hermes almost shouted at her. “I would have fought all the gods here in Olympus if it meant I would be with you.”

“I had no choices...” she whispered out; Hermes started to carefully wipe away her tears.

“Sshh, I hate to see you cry. I’m sure we can work something out; they can’t see everything.” Hermes chuckle to attempt to lighten the mood.

“Hera said that if she or Ares caught us together, she would do more than just kill you.” Alyx moves away from Hermes and turns her back to him. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“I would take a thousand swords for you and you know that.” He made his way to hug her, he nuzzled into the side of her neck. “You know this, I would only assume that she threatened to bring him into this.”

Alyx could only nod, she wishes she could have stood up to Hera and defended her right to choose who she married or bed. She felt so useful and an utter fool, she closed her eyes to try and calm herself. That is when she heard it, the sound of heavy feet and armour making their way down the halls. She knew it would have to be Ares, her eyes open in shock as she turns around and starts to push Hermes towards the window.

“What are you do-” a startled Hermes says as he is quickly interrupted by Alyx.

“It’s Ares, I can hear him coming! You have to leave now! Or Hera will have our heads.” She said in a hushed voice as Hermes nods in understanding, he places a kiss atop her forehead.

“I will do everything in my power to try and prevent this sham marriage from coming to be.” He said climbing onto the window ledge. “I shall for you return later My love.”

With that Hermes skilfully jumped from the window and into the garden below and without a second to spare as the loud knocks of the War god could be heard. Though she almost drowns them out by simply watching Hermes rum towards the next set of buildings. If it weren’t for the second round of loud knocks at the door would have continued to watch him.

She slowly made her way to the doors, reaching for the handles she pulls the door back to reveal a rather stern-looking Ares.

It would have been obvious to any of the gods that she had been crying, her slightly puffy eyes and wet cheeks clear giveaways to her feelings at the time. Unfortunately, Ares either chooses to ignore this or is too oblivious by his own lack of emotion aside from rage to even comprehend the thought.

“What do you want Ares? I’m not particularly seeking your company now.” She tried to contain her voice.

“Well I thought we should spend some time together, may I come in?” Ares stated and looked past her noticing the open window. He knew who was once in this room but wanting to start this on the right foot he waited for her to invite him into her chambers.

“Why would I want to do that? ” She starts to close the door on him, which only results in a larger hand stopping the door's movement before pushing it back open. This silently startled Alyx, all though Ares is an aggressive man never had she made him so angry that he would force his way into her room. She had seen him do it to Apollo, but never to her or his half-sisters. She allowed the door to opened as she moved away and towards the lounging and sitting chairs.

“As your future husband, it’s important that we have a good understanding of one another. I’m also aware that we of late, haven’t spent a great deal of time together.”  She wanted to laugh at that as she sat down, she had not spoken to him since the last harvest festival which wasn’t really speaking more so him being so drunk actually interacted with Apollo, Hermes and her. “As I am fairly certain you don’t partake in the fighting ring.” He says taking a seat opposite her.

“I still partake, though obviously not enough to get to your brothers’ level.” She says with a clear tone of annoyance present in her voice.

“I just thought you had enough after the giants…” Ares spoke trailing off to look over her body. Alyx held a glare at Ares as she shifted her body to glance out the window, she did not want to listen to his small talk any longer.

“What do you really want Ares?” She turned to glare at the man who half-heartedly glared at her. “If this is a petty way at getting some sort of revenge against-” She started to yell at him before he cut her off with a loud booming voice.

“If this was about that bastard Hermes, I would of beat him to a mere inch of his life taken you inforont of the bastard until there is nothing left of you but a whimpering pile of bloody flesh!” he shouted at her coming to a stand in front of her. She was shocked by his sudden outburst, though she was prepared to defend herself as she made a glance towards her staff then looked back up to Ares who's gaze softened as he knelt in front of her. “But I do not want that, I want you. I want something that would make all other gods jealous” he gently says to her while taking her hands. “We could be that I want us to be that.”

“That would require mutual feelings,” she says removing her hands from his. “Which we do not have.”

“Yet,” he said with a sigh standing and turning around. “You’ve spent almost our whole lives giving Hermes and Apollo all of your attention, you don't know what you could have if you to only see two people.”

“I knew it!” She shouted standing up “this is because of your Jealousy! Because you want something you cannot have! So what? You go to your mother and b-” A loud slap echoed off the walls of the room and dangerous red eyes glared a shocked violet and blue ones.

“If you ever talk like that to me again, I’ll-” he was cut off by the sudden sound of Alyx voice almost going into a scream as her eyes gave him a glowing glare.

“Unless you want to lose that fucking hand of yours, Get then fuck out now!”  Ares glared at her but did not say anything as he walked to the door.

“I expect you to meet me in arena gardens for dinner,” he said gruffly before leaving the room slamming the door behind him.

As her eyes stopped glowing, she brought her hand up to rub the cheek where Ares had struck. Although the pain to her cheek had quickly faded the pain that was still fresh in her heart seem to only continue to grow.

[admelioraii]

An ancient murder mystery.

King tut

Far up the Nile in the heat of the valley of the kings, hidden amongst the other burial chambers, in the lowest part of the valley, we find the last resting place of king Tutanhkamon; one of the most esteemed and famous pharaohs in spite of his sudden death at a young age (19 years old).

His story in life and death is fascinating!!!

Akhenaten

His father Akhnaten was the pharaoh who changed the conservative Egyptian population's religion from polytheism to monotheism, and was also the founder of the city of Amarna.

Nefertiti, was his beloved queen, the mother of his six daughters, and was both the stepmother and mother in law of Tutankhamun.

King Tut's mother was Akhenaten’s second wife (whom he married, to have a son in order to protect his bloodline) only conceived one son, which made Tutankhamun the one and only male heir to the throne.

As hinted at earlier, Tutankhamun married his half sister Ankhesenamun; the third of Nefertiti's daughters. 

His father’s sudden death at the age of 40, was shady; additionally he was not loved neither by his ministers and advisers nor by his people.

Always causing him troubles was the fact that he had changed the people's old traditions and religion, this also proved to be his downfall. 

As his father truly loved Nefertiti, King Tut also loved his wife Ankhesenamun dearly. 

This inter-family marriages might sound strange, however, Incest was a must for pharaohs, who could only marry from within their own family.

Ankhesenamun was pregnant at least twice but the two daughters who carried a hereditary disease both died as fetuses. 

This left King Tut vulnerable, without a legitimate heir, and thus a perfect target for conspiracy, greed for the throne and treasures.

King Tut's most trustworthy ally was commanding general Horemheb. 

King tut appointed him “Lord of the lands”, and subsequently, heir to the throne, should something happen to king tut.

At the time, the Egyptians had a never ending disagreement with the Hittits (today Syria-Turkey). 

General Horemheb who was leading the campaign was, consequently, away from Egypt for several months.

In the meantime taking care of business at home King Tut was also busy, but not busy enough not to have some free time to hunt.

King Tut suffered from deformation to his feet and in addition to that malaria that had partly destroyed his immune system, nevertheless, he rode the chariot better than anyone and had led the army himself to many successful wars, hunting was but a hobby.

King Tut’s chariot

It was during one of those hunting expeditions that our beautiful story takes a sudden turn for the worse.

In these hunting expeditions, a large number of the royalty as well as the King participated.  

On this fateful day, King Tut rode his chariot presumingly chasing an animal, he was focused on the animal when something made his chariot unstable and he fell off.

In that very moment another chariot came out of nowhere and ran over him, causing the life threatening wounds that led to his death. 

The death was not instant but it didn't take too long before he passed away. 

Recent forensic evidence shows that he was mummified away from home, because the mummification process was poor, not up to standards of that time. 

Once home the rest of the mummification process was just as sloppy, and poor, the process (of mummification) usually takes about one month; archaeological evidence suggests that he was buried in a hurry and the mummifiers did not take the proper time to complete the process itself. 

The burial was just as unsatisfactory, he was buried in a small, shabby, half unfinished burial chamber, not meant for him, and it was certainly not living up to the position of a pharaoh. 

All of this seems like a perfect murder scenario, but why did this happen when general Horemheb “the heir to the throne” was absent?

Why was everyone in a hurry to bury him?

How could he have died falling off a chariot? 

Why did Tut's wife disappear not long after the death of her husband? 

An autopsy made not long ago proves that his ribbons, and most of his bones on the left side of his body were completely destroyed. 

A mummy was always buried with his mummified heart in place because the heart was needed in order to go to the afterlife. 

Why was King Tut buried without his heart? Perhaps to stop him from going to the afterlife?

Furthermore, in the last stage of mummification process the mummy was wrapped in linen clothes wet with herbal oils. 

Something went wrong in this process with Tut probably because of the rush, and the mummy was completely burned. 

A sloppy job for the highly accurate and professional morticians the ancient Egyptians were. 

The mystery doesn't end here, the burial chamber was so small, it must have been practically impossible to fit the burial items through the entrance, and even more of a challenge to fit them in the small room beside the sarcophagus. 

The chamber itself had been hastely painted and the walls were full of mold when the chamber was opened thousands of years later.

After King Tut's sudden death and hasty burial, his personal advisor, Ay, took the throne and married Tut's wife in the absence of Horemheb(the high general and heir to the throne). 

When Horemheb finally came back from the war it was too late to change anything. 

Tut's wife tried desperately to avoid marrying Ay, and wrote a letter to the leader of the Hittits, asking him to send her a prince to marry.

The prince was sent but killed by the Egyptian border by Ay’s men. 

This papyrus letter, containing Tut’s wife’s message, was found not long ago.

It does not take a professional to understand to whom the circumstances lead.

Royal advisor Ay was the one that benefited most from the death of King Tut, he got the throne, King Tut's wife and the wealth.

Additionally he got to change his own narrow, small burial chamber, where King Tut was buried, for Tut's big impressive, royal tomb. 

Four years after taking the throne, Ay died of natural causes, and was laid to rest in King Tut's chamber.

The irony of the story is that by quickly getting rid of King Tut in a small undignified tomb, Ay revealed two things, first; who murdered King Tut, and second; by switching tombs he gave King Tut his own, less prestigious grave, that was positioned in the bottom of the valley of the kings, well hidden from thieves and tomb robbers. 

That's also the reason why his tomb was found intact, and Tutanhkamun became the most known pharaoh, not only because of all the information we got from his tomb, but also because of his great achievements, both in unifying the population as well as his remarkable territorial gains. 

Tutanhkamon was the least esteemed pharaoh in life, but was in fact, the most esteemed one in death!

Flowers used in king Tut’s burial

His death put an end to the 18th dynasty in Egypt, and Interestingly we can pinpoint the death of Tutanhkamon rather precisely to the spring; April to be exact.

The reason for this is due to the presence of flower garlands in his tomb, a special flower that only blooms in spring!

Hereby we close our murder mystery, now solved, and bid farewell to our Golden boy!!

King Tut

Inspiration and information taken from National Geografics documentaries about Tutankhamun and ancient Egyptian history.

It should also be mentioned that the theory used for this story is one of two possible scenarios presented in the documentaries.

King Tutankhamon (1334-1325 BC).

[crystalangelluna]

A New Chance Chapter 2

Ao3  Part 1

I hope you enjoy the second chapter I tried...

But what can I say when you write a chapter really late instead of sleeping oh well... Mari does know their identities since they were comic book characters, etc.. Damien is only really here for 5 seconds but I plan on including him a lot more in the next chapter which will hopefully come out tomorrow. If you have suggestions or gave spotted and errors please let me know. Enjoy :)

It has been 9 months since her sacrifice, in those nine months a lot has changed, for example Hawkmoth has been put to jail for terrorism, and for manipulating paris to leave it in a depressed state for years but they couldn’t express it in fear of becoming an akuma victim. They slowly started recovering up after all the trauma.

The remaining members of the agreste family adopted the little girl who was akumatized. They welcomed Vivian Mari Agreste into the family 3 months later.

Marinette looking down below at them was very happy that Adrien has a sibling, and also happy for Adrien when he finally started being himself again after what happened.

During her funeral all of Paris went to express their appreciation for her, as she was the one who saved the world from the terrible fate of the wish. Her parents were proud and upset that their daughter was a hero of Paris, but upset that she had to pay the price

Heaven was beautiful, it was indescribable, unlike anything she ever thought it was. She got to meet all the past holders of the miraculouses and listening to their stories as heroes. They became the family she never had.

Even after all these months of thinking and trying to figure out the answer, she never knew why her last lucky charm was a Key Chain in the shape of a Robin. She figured it was one of those times where the lucky charm sends something that may represent the near future, like the time when she was forced into the Guardian title the prior year.

Every now and then she wonders what happened to the miracle box, where specifically in Earth B-42 did it appear etc. The PMH (Past Miraculous Holders) told her not to worry especially since they would be alerted if something happened. Her birthday was rolling in and was excited about spending her birthday with the PMS since they became like family to her.

On the day of her birthday the PMH made her favorite cake and all was fun and games until something happened. Marinette's necklace started glowing, The kwagatama had flown off her neck and landed on her hands. Everyone started gathering around her to see what was happening, curious as to why it would be reacting that way since their Kwagatamas never reacted that way. There was an image appearing out of and it appeared to be KWAMIIS!!!

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARINETTE!!!!” Yelled all the Kwamii’s excitedly from inside the Miracle Box.

Mari started tearing up, after a long time of not seeing them and wondering if they were ok, they were in right in front of her and she couldn’t be happier.

“H-Hi guys y-your ok”she couldn’t help but muster out.

“Aww bug don’t cry we’re ok what about you, are you ok?” Plagg was the one who spoke up.

“I am getting better, I had a lot of help.” She explained and looked towards where the rest of her family was behind her. They couldn’t help but melt a little.

“Mari since today is your 16th birthday we decided to give you your present.” Tikki spoke up barely containing her excitement.

“Ooh what is?”

“A new opportunity for you to start over in an alternate universe on Earth B-42!!” Yelled all the kwami’s

“ Wait-WHAT!!!” Mari was trying her best to process everything that was just revealed.  A NEW CHANCE-ALTERNATE UNIVERSE-COMING BACK TO LIFE-LEAVING HER FAMILY THE PMH. She then realized that she never gave up her guardian title which meant that it was her duty to protect the magical beings to make sure they never end up in the wrong hands again.

“ I have a duty as Guardian of the Miraculouses, which means I have to protect you from evil at all costs. My journey is not over yet it had only just begun!!.” Mari spoke with the tone of a leader.”

The kwamiis were all excited to have their guardian/ladybug/Mari back with them. They all explained what she must do in order to go back to the world of the living. She said her goodbyes to her family and went off to bed knowing it would be the last time she would see them in a long time.

She awoke from her rest thinking that it was all a dream looking around she expected that she was back in her pick room at the bakery. But was instead met with a chamber of sorts. It seemed more like a room for royalty, she observed as she explored a little. There was a knock on the door, alert she got the nearest weapon-like thing to protect herself with. Instead a woman in her 40’s came in then kneeled at her feet and started exclaiming in an unfamiliar language that she somehow understood.

“ Oh great guardian please excuse my inappropriate behavior for intruding.” “Don’t worry, no harm done, just one question where am I?”

“ Why great guardian you are in the great temple of the Miraculouses. After 300 years of waiting you have finally come to us. We have so much stuff to get you ready for.”

All Mari could think about was…

WAIT WHAT…

(TIME SKIP)

Turns out she was in the original temple of the miraculouses and that same day she was named the Grand Guardian of the Miracle box.Also that the language the woman and her talked in was the Guardian Language. After a long talk with tikki and the rest of the kwami's, she decided to stay and learn all she can so she can be a great guardian. She learned multiple languages, all the types of martial arts, how to wield a sword, how to summon the miraculous powers in and out of costume, and much more.

Once she was done with her training she left the temple with the Miracle box on a mission. To destroy all lazarus pits and bring balance to the world.

Her first stop is Gotham, New Jersey, USA.

She is able to heal places by just being there for a period of time and using her ladybug powers.

On the first days she made sure not to appear on Batman's Bruce Wayne’s radar directly, so she goes out and heals Gotham during the day and transforms into Ladynoir at night to help with crime. She occasionally comes across some of the bat clan on their patrols hearing what they were saying using her super hearing, courtesy of the black cat miraculous.

Keeping her stealth in check she follows them around Gotham seeing as she is seeing her favorite heroes since she was little saving Gotham. Also since back in her universe everybody here were comic book characters or made into movies and tv shows.

Of course she forgot one tiny little detail…

She was wearing Plagg miraculous.

So eventually his bad luck caught up to her when she was following robin for the first time on a fateful night.

Knowing that Robin Damien was more observant, skillful, and gets mad easily she was extra careful not to get caught. Of course this wasn’t the case when he suddenly turned around and charged at her with a katana. Using the first thing of self defense she “accidentally” said…

“CATACLYSM!!”

And right there where the katana once was, aiming it directly towards Ladynoir Marinette…

Well lets just say the Katana was no more…

Realising what she had just done (which was getting caught and completely disintegrated Robin’s Damien’s katana into pieces) she well....          

Ran away……

But before she ran away she yelled “Sorry!!!”

She could tell he was chasing her, since she kind of you know…

Did THAT…

She hears plagg cackling maniacally in her head.

                  At least someone is enjoying the Chaos am I RIGHT?

Taglist:

@thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @kceedraws

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 56

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Peach led the way towards the bunker. It looked mostly the same as the one built near Mistral. Dented in places from the Grimm, a sign that there was nobody home. Merlot wasn't here at least at first inspection.

The front entrance was just sitting open, though. It wasn't torn into like I would have done. It seemed from an open fuse box that somebody had wired their way inside.

They had to know about electronics much more than I did to do something like that. And it wasn't likely that Merlot would have to wire his way into his own facilities. Unlikely but not impossible. Especially if he hadn't visited in a while.

A harsh wind howled around us. It was quickly whipping up into a blizzard. I pulled my pipe out and smoked it. I struggled to get my lighter to work and I sniffled against the cold.

"This is it. But it wasn't open the last time I was here," Peach said. "Well not here here but near enough to see it."

"Stay here Peach. Be on your guard," I returned. "I'm not sure what we'll find inside. Merlot is rather famous for his experiments on the Grimm."

"On the Grimm? Why?"

"Why indeed. I suspect that he likes it but I haven't had the chance to talk to him about it. Maybe that changes today."

I rather doubted it but it was always possible that he was really here. Somebody had wired that door open.

Neo took a step forward and together we walked into the laboratory. Some Grimm had made their way inside and we collapsed on them easily. I pulled my shorter longsword and Neo used her stiletto. I cut down a creeper and paced my way over a hexagonal tiled floor. The lights were on unlike the last place we'd been to so I didn't need to use my soul to cast light on the place.  

A Beowulf came upon me and I easily sliced it and it disintegrated into ash and the usual Grimm goo. My heavy boot falls rang out against the tile. Even Neo's heels disturbed the sound of the place with little clacks. It was as somber as a crypt inside.

I stomped on a Creeper. I easily crushed the small monster under my heavy boot. They'd gotten inside and had started to tear the place up a little. Some of the glass tubes were broken and frayed wires sparked.

I felt a warning in my soul. My sixth sense called out to me.

"Someone is here. Or was here very recently," I murmured to Neo. There were giant tubes and inside them were Creepers. They were frozen in a strange blue fluid. It wasn't glowing from within like the experiments in Mistral had been, however.

It was incredibly macabre, even these monsters in the tubes rather than the malformed 'human' Grimm of Mistral. The chamber we were currently in was tall and triangular. But it went on past these white and blue suspension pods and deeper inside. Large electrical lights were on above us. They must be dust run, this far from civilization.

The laboratory had to be totally independent of the rest of Atlas and Solitas.

A creeper oozed from the blue liquid from one of the recently broken pods. It was blue instead of white but only in places. The transformation was splotchy and incomplete unlike the green ones we'd run into near Mistral.

It let out a groaning noise and crawled toward me and I put my sword down through it and into the hexagonal tiles. The ground sparked beneath where I sliced it up after the Grimm dissolved into goo and died.

A voice was coming from further in. A low male voice from the baritone of it.

"Come on. Let's see who's up ahead."

As I walked I sliced apart the tubes we came across with Creepers in them. They disgusted me. Perhaps I saw a bit of the experiment that had created me in these. It made my blood boil with hatred. Not just for the Grimm and their ilk but also for Merlot. And for whoever was making noise up ahead.

It also, and I realized that it probably wasn't healthy, made me hate myself.

I didn't like me. That had been true before I learned the kind of monster I really was. I wasn't my biggest fan. I hated what I had to do to get by.

Even before I killed Ren and Nora I hadn't been fond of me. I'd gotten what I deserved more often than I had bad luck. I was disgusted with myself. At Beacon, I hated my weakness. I think that was when it really started.

When Ruby loved me I couldn't believe it. How could she? How dare she, an angel like her, love a monster like me. How could she do that to me? It was, in a self detrimental way, incredibly cruel of her to care about me so. Even before I knew what I was I had been like that. I loathed myself and it fucking showed sometimes.

But then again smoking wasn't healthy and I was doing that. I was also hell bent on this path of revenge. Had been bent on revenge for a long time now, between Cinder and Merlot. I probably just figured something else would kill me long before smoking did. My lifestyle plus the enemies I had made ensured that I was probably going to die young. Salem sort of sealed that deal for me, too, by being an immortal goddess.

My self hatred was there. It was present even in the things that I loved and in the relationships I formed with the people who loved me.

Then I started killing people. I became good at it too. I hated me for that even more than ever. I hated hiding it from Ruby when I killed Eminence and her Seifer.

Now that I knew that I had been right to hate me all along though… now that I knew I really truly was a monster… Now that I was doomed to die fighting with a goddess in my brain after she made me kill my team I just had all the more reason to hate myself.

If before I didn't like me, then of late I despised myself.

I tortured people now. I hurt them because I could and they… they couldn't stop me. I'd chosen blood and violence and when Wutai burned I'd thought about finishing the job just because I could and they couldn't stop me.

I wanted to kill Raven Branwen. She'd never done anything to me personally. Except through Vernal she'd never done me wrong but I wanted her dead all the same. Still, I wanted her dead. She'd only narrowly escaped me and I hungred for her blood as much as I did any of the others just because I could. I knew it was wrong.

I wanted to destroy Cinder Fall. I wanted to eviscerate her for all that she had done. For what she did to me personally when she took Pyrrha from me. Whatever could have been, whatever had been supposed to be, it was no more because of her. She took that from me. I was robbed.

Her minions like Emerald and Mercury would have to go too. That went without saying but they weren't at the top of my list of people to nix. If I ran across them and they got got, so be it. But I wasn't hunting them like I was the others.

Tyrian I had killed for so much as looking at Ruby wrong. The wounds he'd left on my body was meaningless beside what he had wanted to do to her. He tried to take her from me and bring her to Mother. He had to die for that. He did die for that, whether he himself knew that before the end was irrelevant.

Ren and Nora wouldn't want this for me. Pyrrha wouldn't have wanted this for me. She wouldn't have wanted me to seek my revenge against Cinder either but damn it, I wanted that too.

I'd chosen blood over friendship in my heart a long, long time ago. Especially relative to how old I was. One year old and I was committed to revenge.

Ruby's love had been too much for my Grimm blackened heart to bear. In my depths I wanted the boot and the sword. I wanted it.

Mother needed to go too. I wasn't sure how yet. I wasn't sure when but she'd suffer by my hand. As much as she was capable of suffering. However much that was she would experience it. I was going to cut her into pieces.

She had her fingers in my brain. It made me want to slam my head into the wall over and over. There was nothing I could do about it. Her claws were in me. Nothing could keep me safe from her. I was born doomed to go through this.

My cursed father Merlot who even now I hunted would also know my spirit. He would know what it meant to bring a monster into this world. He would know what he had truly wrought. How dare he? How could he?

It was all their fault and I hated them as much as I hated myself. I was a sword. I was meant for this vendetta. My power which allowed me to grow stronger with each beat of my hatred would allow me to strike them down.

We grew closer to the voice. A low aristocratic murmur. It was distant in this place and echoing beside our footfalls. We would be upon the source at any moment.

I suspected it wasn't Merlot but it could be. It could be… and then I'd give him to Neo. Or worse or something, anything worse. I'd split his limbs. I'd tear his eyes from his skull. I'd-I'd… I was working myself up into a tizzy.

I exhaled lowly and slowed my beating heart. It wouldn't do me any good to get jumpy. I breathed in and out, nice and deep as we crept up on our target.

This hall contained suspended Beowulfs now. I continued to spear them. I refused to be cornered by these monsters should the worst come to pass. Whatever purpose my father had intended the blue fluid to have on them was rendered utterly meaningless. Just as I would one day rend his heart.

I moved around a corner, and out a blast door. I came out into a huge open room sword and shield at the ready. I gazed up over a series of computers up at a man in a deep navy blue suit trimmed in yellow. He was speaking into a scroll and abruptly stopped at my presence.

He tapped a few buttons on one of the computers and a shimmering barrier appeared between us. Sealing me and Neo into the cavernous room and himself in the smaller control room.

"And who are you?" His voice boomed into speakers that surrounded me.

"Are you Merlot?" I demanded.

He laughed. "No, I'm not mad Merlot. Now what's your name?"

"I'm Jaune Arc," I announced.

"You… you're Merlot's creation. You're Salem's son!"

I glowered through the barrier at him. "I gave you my name. What's yours?"

"You have… you have the relic of knowledge! I thought your sisters would reclaim it."

"You know my sisters?" I demanded.

"My boy," he drawled. "I created your sisters. In my own laboratory. I suppose if Merlot is your 'father' then I am your 'step-father.'"

I stared at him. "Your name."

"I don't see the point in giving my name to a failure . In fact, I don't see much point in continuing this conversation. I will be taking that relic, however."

"Not from in there, you're not." I glared and turned my semblance on. "Come fight me."

"Oh," he mocked with a lazy yawn. "Shiny." He started tapping away at one of the control panels before him.

"Neo, do you think you can teleport in there and shut this barrier down."

She looked at it and shook her head.

I guess there needed to be a little bit of open space for her to move through and that shimmering barrier allowed her none. Some semblances had rules like that. Like mine had plenty of laws. Mine was even defined by its rules.

A gate began to open up in the floor in a spiraling fashion. I hadn't really taken stock of it but it was earth beneath my boots rather than the hard hexagonal tiles that made up the rest of the facility.

From the pit a giant Deathstalker emerged. It was slightly splotched blue like so many of my wretched father's other wretched specimens in this place.

It was enormous, at least as big as the one in initiation, if not a little bigger. It lowered its brightly colored stinger at me and I raised my shield and sword. It slammed it's stinger forward but I met it with the cold hard strength only my semblance could provide. I didn't budge. Back in initiation I'd been pushed back by that Deathstalker's claws but I was so much unbelievably stronger now than then.

I slashed out from behind my shield at the stinger where it met the rest of the white, blue, and black tail.

It screeched at me as I bit deep into its vulnerable flesh and it pulled back. It came at me with its claws but Neo and I vanished with our speed. She backflipped over it, picking at it's exposed eyes as I slid at it hard and sliced at its mouth.

"Neo cut the tail!" She landed next to me and I saw her nod. The tail was now hanging by a twist of flesh and little else. It was vulnerable there. I doubted we'd hammer the stinger into its own head, probably kill it some other way.

I dashed forward and I met its claws. I held it steady while Neo flipped over it and cut its tail off. It screeched again and the Deathstalker reared back.

I cut at its claws where they met dark flesh and the blueish pincers retreated from me. It then charged me and slammed my body against one of the grey walls. I pushed back against it with a heavy boot.

The tail came around and smashed me in the chest, knocking me to the ground. I picked myself back up and met the pincers again with my shield. I slashed around it, trying for the eyes and mouth but it must have seen that trick before because it held me far away with the pincers.

Like an oversized lobster. I tried again to take off one of the pincers. I bit deep into the black flesh between blue and white flesh and it flailed pressing against me.

Neo flipped into place again and stabbed it in one of its eyes. It roared with rage, the mouth parts frothed with spittle and I felt nothing but disgust for it.  

This thing was just reminding me of better times with my friends. Not that I had anything against Neo, in fact I probably had the least against Neo out of anybody alive on the planet. She just wasn't a good replacement for my teammates and friends. She just didn't do it for me like Pyrrha, Ren, or Nora could. You know? It was nothing personal. I'm sure she felt the same way about me and Roman.

I dived and brought my sword down two handed against the claw and took the tip off through the armor. The tail came whipping around and I jumped and hovered in the middle of the air and Cross-Slashed its face and tail.

It writhed to get away from my combo and it screamed in agony as I took its tail off and left deep gouges in its carapace near its face.

There wasn't that much room for it to escape me from. I was guessing things in here with it were more locked in with it and less having it locked in with them. I was turning its usual situation on its head.

I stabbed down through an eye as I fell and it writhed and tried to shake me off. I twisted Crocea Mors and shattered its shell around where Crocea Mors was buried.

It cried and began to dissolve into dust and goo.

I walked up to the barrier that guy was on the other side of and banged on it four times. Gong. Gong. Gong. Gong. I began to recharge my semblance.

"Little pit, little pig, let me in." He began to back away from his control panel. I stood and charged for a long time. I got my hands on my semblance again and swung at the barrier as hard as I could, burning my semblance with it in a wild attack.

The barrier failed for a moment and lights on his side of the barrier blared.

"I'll huff and I'll puff." I menaced from outside. "What's it going to be Mr. Man."

He ran away, the enormous coward. I couldn't believe it. He was just leaving us locked in here. I charged up my semblance and rattled the barrier until it broke. I banged at it over and over again and then I Cross-Slashed it after putting my sword together with the shield and getting the broadsword. But whoever the man with the mustache was, he escaped.

I swore and I screamed and I slashed up some of the computers in my rage before I had the sense to calm down and remember I might want to look through them.

Then I marched down the passageway after the mustached man. It eventually led out a back entrance to the laboratory. I sighed. He was stone cold gone. Along with any chance I had of learning about my sisters.

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-WG

[thecleverdame]

Gods of Twilight - 17

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader

Master List (posting schedule is there as well)

Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.

Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking.  This chapter does contain some non-con elements.

Beta:  @ilikaicalie​

*This story is complete. All 27 chapters are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

-

Your bedchambers have once again become a prison. Only this time you're not only trapped in the room, but relegated to the bed itself. Martha, the midwife, insists that you must be still and allow ample time for your body to heal. So you lie there, alone and broken-hearted as the days turn into weeks.

Sam does his best to be a comfort, but the truth is he can hardly stand the sight of you. He’s so ashamed of what he’s done, overcome with guilt for hurting you so viciously that every interaction is forced.

During the day he eats his meals with you, but at night he leaves and doesn’t return. This harkens back to the beginning of your marriage when you were sure he was unfaithful.

At least now you know it’s only a matter of time. Your experiment proved disastrous. His rut was only satisfied by nearly taking your life. And there’s no way he’ll try again.

No, Ruby will have your husband. She’ll see him through his ruts and give him the children that you are unable to provide. She’ll be his wife in the shadows and you’ll be the somber, public face of a wife and queen who people whisper about behind your back.

You wonder if you’re capable of raising and loving a child that your husband has created with another woman. If it was an orphan, unrelated to either of you by blood, you’re sure of your affections. You could love almost any baby as your own. But the idea of Ruby birthing a child, a baby meant to yours...it’s unbearable.

The very thought brings you to tears.

The pain in your neck is almost nonexistent. You still haven’t looked at it, afraid of what you’ll find. The sting of the stitches and the itch of the skin healing has passed but the bandage remains. Martha has left it up to you when you take it off for good.

The ache from your sex and your womb is constant. It’s not the intense pain from the first week, but it’s still a dull ache that smarts when you move too quickly. Everything below your belly feels tight and stiff. You’ve been assured there will be no lasting damage. Martha has explained to you time and time again that it’s no more than what some women go through during childbirth. That a woman’s body knows how to heal.

So you lay still and wait for the rest of what your life will bring.

-

“You should have a look,” Martha insists yet again, thrusting a hand mirror toward you. When you don’t take it, she places it on your lap.

“I’m not ready.” You wring your hands together, feeling anxious pressure bubble up into your chest.

“The mind always imagines something worse than reality. The doctor did a fine job, best he could under the circumstances.” She pats your hand, gesturing toward the bandage on your neck. “Here, let me take it off.”

She removes the cloth, strip after strip and you do your best to remain collected. Once it’s off she sits back, waiting for you to gather the courage to have a look. Taking a breath, you clutch the mirror in shaking hands and raise it up.

You gasp when you see it for the first time, but interest ends up trumping the horror you’ve built up in your own mind. There are three distinct bite marks, three wounds with little fishbone stitches bordering each of them. A lot of the skin is still angry red, but some of the edges are a softer pink. His teeth marks are prominent and easily discernible. There’s no denying this is a human bite.

“What will people think of this?” You wonder out loud, touching the wound gently.

“You’re certainly not the first woman in Lebanon to have a man’s mark on her.” She counters, taking the mirror from you. “I don’t pretend to understand what it means, and it’s not my business. But folks here are used to seeing marks like that.”

You hadn’t thought of that. This place is filled with many claimed Omegas, for all anyone knows you’re just another part of the culture, an old-time tradition that outsiders hear about and shake their heads. You’d heard of the women and their marks long before you came here, the stories always seem far fetched to you, but it makes sense now.

“I brought bandages.” Martha holds up a package of cloth wood pulp bandages, the same kind soldiers use on their battle wounds to stop a lot of blood.

Only these are used for your monthly bleeding.

“It hasn’t started yet,” you offer. The very idea of it is depressing. “There hasn’t been any blood since the healing took hold, nearly four weeks now.”

“After what you went through I’m not at all surprised. It may take several months for your body to find a balance.” She smiles softly, patting your ankle at the end of the bed. “I need to check you.”

“I suppose a reprieve is welcome, but I can’t be too far away from my time. I’ve felt the cramps for a week now and my breasts ache.” You inch toward the end of the bed, pulling up your nightgown and spreading your legs for her to check you.  

“Do you have any discomfort?”

“No, not at the moment. But I am awfully tired. And my appetite has left me. Sam is concerned I’ll develop a fever.”

“I see.” She touches you carefully, poking and prodding as delicately as she can. “Have you experienced any lightheadedness?”

“Well, yes, I attributed that to the fact that I haven’t been eating. Do you think there is cause for concern?” you ask, only imagining all the horrific complications that might occur.

“Concern?” She looks up from between your knees, pulling your skirts back down. “No, but I do think there is cause to be careful.”

“Of what?”

“I think, my queen, that you are with child.”

“What?” you sputter, sitting upright. Your breath is short, disbelief making you fuzzy with a surging hope. “You think that’s possible?”

“I think it is probable,” she grins giving your hand a squeeze. “Can you urinate for me?”

“Of course!” Gripping the bed frame you pull yourself up, and she comes to your side, helping you to the chamber pot.

Digging through her bags, she retrieves a small bowl and then pours a premixed power into the bottom. You relieve yourself and she makes sure to catch some in the bowl. You both watch the reaction as the black powder immediately begins to smoke and sizzle, turning yellow.

“What does it mean?” you beg her for an answer.

“You, my queen, have been blessed with a child.”

-

You sent Philip hours ago to find your husband and yet there’s been no word from either of them. Pacing back and forth across in front of the fire in the great hall you listen to your footsteps echo off the walls. Never would you have thought that the idea of having a child would bring such joy, but you can’t deny this happiness. After everything that you’ve endured, you’re grateful for this gift.

It’s unclear how Sam will react. He’s grown more and more distant over the last weeks, seeking his brother’s council and avoiding any real conversation at all costs. Your deepest fear is that he’ll be upset. It’s only natural that he should want to be with someone who can not only give him children but also satisfy him. After what’s happened you couldn’t blame him if he’s re-thought his decision to bring you here.

The tall doors open, hitting each of the respective walls with a thud as Sam strides toward you pulling off his gloves. His hair is wild from the ride in, and his cheeks still pink from the nip of the winter air.

“What’s happened?” He looks at you expectantly. “Is something wrong, are you hurt?”

“No,” you wring your hands, walking closer to him. “I’m feeling rather well, actually.”

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” He grimaces, looking around the room to ensure you’re alone. “You’re still healing.”

“I’m healed,” you counter, nervously biting your lip. “I have news.”

“News that couldn’t wait?” He cocks an eyebrow. You can see right through him.  This is his defense, he’s snippy when he wants to keep you at arm's length.

“I thought you would want to know as soon as possible.” Your cheeks grow warm, throat suddenly dry at the prospect of confessing this development.

“Tell me,” he insists, impatient and on edge.

“You are going to be a father.” You offer a faint smile, trying to gauge his reaction.

Sam’s entire face drains of color, his features falling slack as he looks at you in shock. It seems as if he might be sick, taking a shallow breath he stares at you wide eyed.

“It can’t be,” he whispers, making no move. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you confirm, feeling tears spring to your eyes. He’s utterly gutted, spoiling your excitement for this tiny life inside you. “I have the tell tale signs and Martha did one of her tests.”

You stare at each other, Sam seemingly unable to speak in response. He looks at the floor, swimming in his own head as you wait for something, anything.

“I am sorry this is a disappointment for you,” you sputter, wiping tears from your cheeks.

He lets out a sharp laugh, a wild uncontrolled snort and before you know what’s happening you’re in his arms, being held so tightly that you can scarcely breathe.

“I am not disappointed,” he chortles into your hair. “I’ve never been so happy in all my life.”

“Thank God,” you cry against his shirt, letting out a sigh of relief. “I thought you were angry with me.”

“How could I be angry?” He laughs again and you hear the stammer in his voice, he’s crying right along with you. “I thought I’d ruined our chances of ever having a child and now this. I am a lucky man. God must not have completely abandoned me.”

“Don’t say such things,” you mutter into this chest. “Sam, you’re - I can’t breathe.”

“I’m sorry.” He releases you, stepping back and leaning down to your eye level as he grasps both your shoulders. His wet eyes are lit up with elation, accompanied by a smile that he can’t seem to stop. “You are sure of it?”

“Yes, it’s still very early but Martha is convinced. It’s a good omen.”

“It is,” he confirms, clasping your face with both hands before planting a happy kiss to your lips. “My wife,” he confirms against your mouth. Something seems to shake his thoughts loose as he pulls back to look down at you. “You should be in bed.”

“I am with child, not an invilid.”

“No,” he shakes his head, taking you by the hand and pulling you toward the hallway. “You’ve been through enough. You need rest, for you and our child.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You try to pull away but he’ll have none of it. “Sam, I can’t stay in bed indefinitely.”

“Do you have any idea what this means?” He pulls you up beside him, slowing his stride. Two knights fall in line behind and then two more. There’s always someone watching and listening. He glances back and leans down to speak to you in confidence. “Keeping you and this child safe are the only things that matter.”

“But I’m not in any danger,” you insist.

“That we know of,” his words send a shiver down your spine.

“What does that mean?”

“Do you know how many people would love to see me suffer? Luther is at the top of that list, but I have nearly as many enemies as allies. There are men in the village who believe that Dean raped their daughters when he was newly turned. They hold me accountable because he wasn’t punished.”

“Did he?” you stare at Sam in horror, being ushered down a labyrinth of stone and mortar.

“I don’t believe so, but I can’t say anything with confidence anymore. The change makes men savage. At the very least he turned them and that alone is something they don’t understand. Daughters came back home to their fathers and husbands with claiming bites on their necks. Their contempt for me is understandable.”

“I can’t hide away in the castle, Sam. And it’s not fair of you to ask me. I’ll go crazy in that room day after day.”

“It’s not forever,” he offers, ushering you into your room and closing the door to seal away prying ears. “Do this for me now, while I sort out how to handle Luther and the like.”

He stares at you, and you can see the wheels turning. There’s more, you’re sure of it, more that he’s not telling you.

“Why do you want me in my room?” you press, looking around the chamber. You could tell him how bricks make up the walls and the number of cracks in the ceiling, you’ve already spent so much time here. “Who are you afraid of? The guards? Your brother?”

“There are those who are like me, wolves, that tolerated my marrying you. But it’s always been assumed that we would not be able to conceive a child. The fact that your belly will grow with my pup is...upsetting to some.”

“Because I am human?”

“Yes.”

“That’s preposterous,” you scoff. “I’m to be treated like a shameful secret because I haven’t been bitten under a full moon?!”

“Calm down.” He’s vibrating with nervous energy as he steals glances at your stomach as if he expects you to swell up before his very eyes. “I shouldn’t upset you.”

“Too late.”

“Listen to me,” he places his hands on your shoulders forcing you to sit at the edge of the bed. Then he drops to his knees in front of you. “This is important. Who else knows about the child?”

“No one, I wanted to tell you before anyone else,” you confirm and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Martha knows, what about Philip?”

“Only Martha.”

“We need to keep it that way as long as possible.”

“But it’s such happy news,” you’re crestfallen, the joy draining right out of you. “Surely I can write to my parents. And most of the village would be so happy that their king has an heir.”

“Yes, and we will do all those things. But first we need to ensure that we have a strong, growing baby.”

While it does feel as if he’s overreacting a bit, the instinct to protect the life inside you is already strong. If anything happened your heart would break in two.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“I’m going to make Lebanon a safe place for both of you, I promise,” he nods.

Four Months Later

Dinner was delicious. It was nothing more than seasoned, boiled potatoes and fish from the river, but you’ve been ravenous for the last week, eating everything in sight. Food that was once bland and boring, now makes your mouth water at the very thought.

Meals are brought to your chambers now. Save for an early morning walk through the castle with Philip, you’re relegated to this room.

You spend countless hours reading and when you can’t read another word you stare out your window at the bustling village below and try to imagine the sights and sounds and smells. What you wouldn’t give to bump into a foul smelling blacksmith or an eager child running through the streets.

You’re starving for both human interaction and physical affection. Save for a stiff kiss on the cheek and an awkward pat of his hand, Sam will not touch you. He treats you like fragile glass, admiring from afar but never getting too close.

He eats his meals with you and in the evenings stays for games of chess. Sometimes he will read aloud until you fall asleep, but then he absconds into the night leaving you just as lonely as when you first came to Lebanon.

Sam is not a match for you in chess, he’s good but you’re always three moves ahead. You can see it mapped out in your mind. Some nights, if he’s had a long day, you let him win. Tonight his long fingers touch the pieces, resting on the queen as he intends to move her out.

“It’s a little early for that, don’t you think?” you offer, nodding towards the queen.

Sam stops, nodding and considering your warning. “Yes, yes you’re right.”

“You’re trying a different strategy tonight?” you counter, smiling as you watch him work through the possibilities. “You normally leave your king unprotected.”

“You love to point out my fatal flaws, don't you?” A hint of a grin pulls at his mouth.

“I want you to get better and give me a worthy opponent.”

“My wife has a smart mouth this evening,” he chuckles, eyeing your pieces.

“It’s always smart. I just normally keep my thoughts to myself.”

He grunts, still deciding his next move.

“Are Golda and Philip making sure you have everything you need?” he asks, fingering the intricate knight carved out of wood. This set was a gift from your parents, hand carved and polished with care.

“They bring me anything I ask for,” you confirm, feeling as if your sanity is slowly slipping away. If he’s not careful he’ll come back to find you making conversation with the rook.

“I'm glad to hear it.”  

“Sam,” you start.

“Hmm?” he responds without looking up, studying the board.

“Do you know what I need most of all?”

“What? Tell me.”

“I need you. I need you to be here with me. I need my husband to sleep in this bed, to stay with me in the night. To hold me and make me feel safe. More than anything else, that is what will ensure this child comes into the world.”

Y/N,” he looks away, getting up and walking over to the bed. “I am sorry I haven’t been here as much as you would like.”

“It is because you feel guilty?” you press, watching him flinch.

“The things I did to you-” he has to stop, shaking his head and looking away to avoid your stare. You don’t talk about his rut, it upsets him to no end.

“I knew what the risks were when I agreed to stay with you.”

“Did you?” Sam shoots back, his body going stiff. “Because even I never thought I was capable of that. What I did to you, I’ve never come close to before that night. All I can think about is how scared you must have been, and the pain you endured while you begged me to stop.”

“Stop torturing yourself.” You get up, walking closer. “I don’t remember anything that happened. I am of sound mind and body, healthy as a horse and carrying your baby. We are lucky, Sam. Can’t you focus on that?”

“How is it possible you don’t hate me?” His eyes stutter between yours, tears welling up in the corners as he fights to get himself under control. “I forced myself on you. I nearly killed you.”

“No, you most certainly did not force yourself on me,” you counter, allowing him to hear the anger building in your voice. You point to the bed and he obediently takes a seat. “I gave myself over to you of my own free will, knowing what could happen. You have to stop talking this way. You’re wallowing in what happened and I have moved on.”

“You called me a monster once and you were right to do so.”

“No, I was very wrong,” you implore, taking one of his large hands between both your own. “Can’t you see how much I love you? I loved you then and I love you even more now. Please Sam, please, find a way to forgive yourself and stay with me.”

“You love me?” He smiles weakly, mouth quivering as he holds his emotions in check.

“Some days, so much it feels as if my heart may burst.” You search his face, hoping to burn the words into him. “Not only do I love you, but I miss you. I am so lonely in this place. You gave me a taste of what it was like to have a happy, present husband and then took it away from me when I need you most. That is what’s cruel. I want our child to know parents who care for one another.”

“Can you love a husband that has to be with another woman?” he counters, nostrils flaring as he awaits your response.

“I’ve already accepted that,” you whisper, looking down at his hand, tracing a blue vein up into his wrist. “You have to promise me that you’ll never claim her.”

“I would not,” his eyes narrow, genuinely surprised by that request. His hand trails up to your throat, fingers finding the scars from his bites. “I have already claimed my mate.”

“It doesn’t make a difference that I’m not like you?”

“No,” he shakes his head. The hand at your neck moves to cradle your jaw. “I’ve known you were the only one I wanted since I smelled you on your father’s letter. And I’ve loved you since you stood next to me on our wedding day. I can’t explain it, I just knew. I would do anything for you.”

“Anything?” you murmur as the warm, rough pad of his fingers trail across your cheek.

“Yes,” he nods, his eyes fixed on your lips.

“Then stop running away from me and start sleeping in our bed again.”

“As you wish,” he smiles an exhausted smile of surrender. One of his hands goes to your stomach and he nearly recoils when he feels the small bump nestled in your belly. It’s well hidden but bigger every day. “I didn’t think there would be anything this early.”

“The midwife says I’m growing much faster than normal,” you confirm, taking his hand to place it back at your stomach. “And this is an excellent reminder of how long it’s been since you last touched me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to see it?”

He looks up, his expression telling you all you need to know. You turn so that he can help you with your dress. You strip down, pulling the shift off, leaving you stark naked.

When you’re nude it’s easy to see where your once flat stomach is rounding out. Sam lets out a heavy breath through his nose, pulling you to the edge of the bed where he’s sitting, as he cups his child with both hands. When he looks up his eyes are wet, and his sad smile has returned.

“I’ve never seen anything as beautiful in my life...look at you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. “He has actually been very kind to me. After those first weeks, I haven’t felt sick or tired.”

“He?”

“I just have a feeling.” You watch him move his fingers delicately back and forth over the skin of your belly.

Sam is just as handsome as he’s always been, but at this moment he definitely looks more rugged than the man you married. His beard and hair have gone uncut for months, and if you didn’t know he was a king he would pass for any woodsman in the forest. “I meant it when I said that I miss you.” You run a hand through his mane of hair, fingers catching in the tangles. Pulling your own hair back you expose his claiming bite and take one of his hands, bringing it up to your neck. His eyes follow, the tone shifting as you lean into him. “It’s been so long since we’ve been together.”

“I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You never once hurt me, before your rut.”

“What about the baby?”

“There’s nothing to worry about. Except your wife sleeping alone in a cold bed.”

He lets his forehead rest between your breasts, making a pained expression and nuzzling closer as he fights with himself. He’s still got one hand over his claim, the other cradling his child.

“I am already yours,” you urge him on. “All you have to do is take me.” Taking the hand on your stomach, you move it down, guiding his knuckles between your thighs. Placing a kiss between your breasts he looks up at you, long fingers finding their way to your sex.

You stare at each other as two fingers slide between your folds and slip into your channel. You’re not exactly wet, but eager enough that he can find his way inside without resistance. He grunts, still looking you in the eyes as his thumb finds your bud.

Gasping quietly you widen your stance, grabbing onto his shoulders to steady yourself as he works you with his hand.

“I want you inside me,” you confess, moaning softly while his thumb sweeps back and forth over your clit.

“I don’t deserve to feel that good,” he groans, rubbing his cheek over your breast. “I can’t-

“Yes, you can.” You reach down, easily finding his cock straining against the crotch of his trousers. “Let me…”

His fingers slip from between your legs as you open his belt. He’s not helping but it doesn’t matter. You manage to pull his cock free and before he can protest you crawl into his lap.

“Y/N-”

“Shhh,” you hush him, gripping one shoulder for balance and using the other to guide the head of his cock between your folds. “Don’t you want me to have pleasure?”

“Yes,” he hisses, eyes shut tight, his beard scratching against your nipples as he tries to bury himself in your scent.

You’re slick enough now to easily slide down onto him, letting the weight of your body do the work as you settle into his lap. The stretch of him drives the breath from your lungs as you take him to the hilt, wiggling on his length. It’s been a long time and your whole body flushes hot with desire as he fills you completely.

Sam lets out a long, low groan, both hands finding your hips to hold you in place. He doesn’t move, just huffs hot and hard as you squeeze your cunt around him.

There are many layers to his hesitation, but you know it’s all fueled by guilt. So you take the power away from him, allow him to give up his control and make this about you.

“You feel so good,” you whimper, lifting yourself up and down on his cock. Everything is more sensitive than it was before. Perhaps it’s a combination of healed wounds and his child that make everything tighter and better. You could finish just like this, no added touch is needed, not anymore. “I want you to have pleasure too, Sam,” you mutter, moving your hips faster lifting yourself up and down in perfect rhythm. “We deserve to love each other, just like this.”

He’s still fighting it, refusing to look at you. So you slow down, taking his face in your hands.

“Open your eyes,” you command, and he does, looking at you as his throat bobs with a gulp.

“I’d rather die than hurt you again,” he whispers, one hand leaving your hip to spread wide as it slides up your back.

“It hurts more to be without you.” You lean down, tilting his head upward into a kiss. “Stop thinking,” you implore against his mouth, his beard rubbing your lips raw. “Just be here in this moment with me.”

Your tongue slips past his lips and you move faster, working his cock until your thighs are burning from the effort. You can feel the ring of muscle at the base of his shaft begin to swell. Leaning back in his lap you gasp for air, moving quickly toward your peak. His mouth is dragging across your collarbone, hot breath and sharp teeth on your skin.

“You should stop,” he warns. His thumbs dig into the flesh of your hips, trying to slow you down but you’ll have none of it.

“You want me to feel good, don’t you?” you ask breathlessly.

“Of course,” he nods, his mouth falling open in pleasure.

“Then stop telling me what to do,” you quip.

You’re so close and he is too. You sink down, letting his knot slip inside your folds, then drop all your weight into his lap.

“You can’t-”

“I want it,” you insist, leaning back.

He��s about to protest further when you wedge your hand between your bellies, rubbing your own bud. You both cum at the same time. His knot pops thick and wide, forcing you open as you reach your peaks in tandem, tightening and clenching around his knot. It’s never felt like this before, there’s always been discomfort but not this time. There’s nothing but supreme pleasure as you writhe and moan with his knot buried inside your channel.

His open mouth presses against the hollow of your throat, a long groan of pleasure vibrating against trembling, sweating skin. You feel him empty inside you, that thick warmth spurting again and again until he has nothing more to give.

You, however, are still swimming in ecstasy. Gripping the back of his neck with one hand and his arm with the other, you’re hanging on for dear life, stilling writhing in his lap. The tug of his knot only adds to the satisfaction as you pant and squirm wishing you could always feel exactly like this.

Twitching with tiny sparks of your waning orgasm you fall forward, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close.

“Sam,” you gasp, kissing him desperately. “I’ve never felt so wonderful in all my life.”

You’re teetering on the edge of something undefined. You’ve just exploded but there’s still an ache, a need for more as you sway with his knot trapped deep within your walls.

“You’re not done,” he mumbles as he licks the skin under your jaw, nipping gently as he grabs a handful of your backside. “I can feel how much you need it.”

There are no words to describe the overwhelming lust you feel as he licks his thumb and then brings it to your bud. You lean back to watch while he works you with a skilled touch, nothing too hard or fast, just the constant sweep of his thumb as you rock in his lap, enjoying the strain of his knot.

You cum a second time with Sam inside you and around you, feeling his touch and the heat of his body. You’re vaguely aware as you cry out, calling his name. You clench and shake, left nothing more than a puddle of a woman, draped over his shoulder as you pant for air.

“Are you alive?” he asks, making no attempt to cover the pride in his voice.

“I’m not sure,” you smile, squeezing your arms tight around his neck. “Ask me again later.”

“As you wish.”

You hold each other for a long time, only separating when his knot allows it, only to be wrapped up in him again as he tucks you both into bed.

“You’ll stay with me?” you need the confirmation.

His arms tighten around you as he kisses the back of your head. “Yes, I should have been with you this whole time. I will not leave you again. I swear it.”

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Back to her (Rey x Reader)

Summary: Reader is Kylo Ren's lover, sent as a spy to the Resistance, where she meets Rey and without realizing, falls in love with her.

NOTE: this shot contains Kylo Ren x Reader (my gay ass feels weird about this) but I promise it's focused on Rey. Also there's no reylo, don't worry. Just bare with me.

Words: 1,056

A/N: I dreamed this, I know it's weird but I also liked it so I wrote it down. But don't ask questions bc I don't control my dreams so I really can't answer about this. I'm writing this at 3am btw.

"Are you leaving?" His deep voice asked as he walked into the chambers you shared with him. You didn't answer. "I just finished reading your report, it's incomplete. I sense it"

"Nothing interesting happened today, just mechanics fixing stupid ships"you told him without looking at him.

"Oh, come on Y/N. You have to be better than that if you want to lie to me" he said "You can tell me"

"I would prefer not to" you told him.

"What's going on, love" he said placing a hand in the lower of your back and you flinched moving away from him.

"Don't, Kylo" you warned.

"Really, you're scaring me, what's going on?"

"This is wrong, the First Order, you" you murmured "I don't belong here"

He analyzed your words and then the puzzle on his mind revealed the whole picture. You were speaking like them, like the enemy.

"You've changed" he said "I should have never sent you to the Resistance"

A spy. He used you as a spy, his most trusted apprentice, his most loyal soldier, his lover. A face no many knew and sure would never suspect inside the Resistance.

An infiltrate right below the enemy's nose with the only mission to silence the beacon of light inside the rebellion, Kylo Ren knew that with Rey out of the way the First Order would shortly conquer the galaxy.

You hated the place, you hate the people in the Resistance but you absolutely despised Rey. All of her.

"Why does she even wears her hair like that?" You laughed, laying next to Kylo on the soft bed "It's pathetic" you told him the very first night after your infiltration.

"You can cut those weird buns out if her head if you want" he told you with a smile.

"No yet, I need her to trust me, remember? And when she does I'm going to make her suffer, believe me" you told him.

With the time things changed. You didn't hate her anymore, didn't wanted to hurt her nor the other members of the Resistance, they were different from the soldiers and commanders in the First Order, people in the side of the Resistance were kind and were always looking out for each other, it felt more like a family, she felt more like a family, more like a home.

You started to notice the way her eyes shimmered with the soft light of dawn, how her honest smile warmed something inside you that you had never felt before, the way the slightest touch of her made your heart race faster than the X-Wing she sometimes flew.

But at the end of the day you had to get back to the First Order. Back to him.

Now things were different with him too. You hated him and the horrible things he've done. Felt guilty after sleeping with him because you knew you were betraying Rey, you knew she'd be heartbroken if she ever found out who you really were and what you were doing with him.

It felt wrong.

Specially after today when she confessed she trusted you more than anything, when she told you just how much you meant to her… when she kissed you. It felt right, it felt real, it felt true.

So you decided to give up to everything, to your training, to the First Order. To him.

"Hey, I don't know what they told you but it's a lie" Kylo told you "We're going to win this war" he said "We're destined to greatness, Y/N. You and I soon will run this galaxy together, just like I promised you."

There was pure concerned on his eyes as he placed his gloved hand on the side of your face and he leaned closer towards your lips, you turned your head to the side, rejecting his kiss.

"I don't think I want to be part of that plan anymore" you murmured.

"What? Why? This is what you wanted" he said. "Why changing now?"

"This is wrong, Kylo" you snapped "Rey was right about you."

"Rey?" He frowned as the anger started to boil in his veins. Then he searched inside your head before he spoke again. "By the gods, you love her… don't you?" His voice was filled with a mix of anger and pain. Betrayal.

"You told me so many things about her, none of them were true" you told him "You wanted me to win her trust, to find her weakness and to destroy her for you" you glanced at him "I know you, you're a coward and I am never going to kill for you again."

He went quiet for a moment, just looking at you.

"You didn't answer my question" he said in a cold way "Do you love her? Do you love Rey?"

"I-I don't know" you mumbled afraid of your own words, afraid to accept your feelings for the girl you once considered your enemy. You looked up to him, staring into his dark eyes. "There's one thing I'm sure about, I don't love you" you hissed.

You saw the fury spreading all over his face as his fist closed in a dangerous way.

"Traitor" he murmured "Out of all of them you are the one to turn against me?" He snapped.

With all the strength you had you kicked him right in the face, catching him off guard his tall figure fell backwards to the floor. You were surprised your punch was strong enough to knock him, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Using every second Kylo lied unconscious you rushed to the closest hangar and got yourself in a ship.

But where to go? You had no home, you have no family, you had no place to go. And yet the answer was more than clear for you as you piloted the ship straight to the Resistance's base.

Rey was your family, she was your home, she was now your everything. And you realized you fell for her without noticing, without planning to, it just happened.

You loved her.

You truly did. More than you had ever love someone. So you flew back to that base you hated at first, back to the people you now called friends, back to the Resistance, back to your real home.

Back to her.

Tagging: @1-800-depressedlesbian , @xgaygremlinx

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things or everything I write, just let me know)

[sabraeal]

All That Remains, Chapter 6: The Flower Garden of the Woman Who Could Conjure [Part 3]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Obiyukiweek 2020, Day 2: Nobility Exhibit self discipline. Show respect to authority. Obey the law. Administer justice. Protect the innocent. Respect women.

Ah, but we have gotten ahead of ourselves once again, have we not? So wrapped up were we in lies and glamour that we have forgotten our girl on the shore, heart dripping in her hands.

It’s all right. She’ll forgive us. Little girls always do.

Let us not leave her waiting.

A girl stands on the shore, red shoes wet in her hands, with none of the answers she seeks. Or rather, none of the ones she was prepared to have.

Alive, the river had told her. Away, said the darkest fears of her heart.

Never had she thought that dead would seem the better option.

We are complex beings; animals with four-chambered hearts. We are meant to hold more than a single thought, a single emotion, a single wish. But still, still-- it is a poisoned gift when elation and desolation can exist beside one another, when they can be flavored by guilt and betrayal.

She is a just a child, and yet a storm brews in her chest, too large for to contain. Beneath it, she is but an island, alone at sea.

So when the boat comes, a humble thing with no explanation, no expectations, she steps on it. What else can she do, when there is no other way to leave the hurricane behind her?

Her rooms are dark when she returns to them.

Kiki moves, pale hair catching the last light of the hall. “Where are your matches? I can’t--”

“No.” Her voice feels wrong in her mouth, too sour and too low. For a moment, Shirayuki wonders if this is truly her body, or if she has stood in the shadows too long and becomes someone else.

“I mean,” she begins again, sounding more like herself with every word, “there’s no need. I’m going to bed.”

Kiki stills behind her. “Do you need help?”

Yes. “No.” Her fingers fumble at the clasps of her gown. “I wore one of my old dresses tonight. From when I...”

Still felt like myself. Her hands clench, cotton soft beneath her fingers, and for once she longs for something coarser, for a wool that might itch or a lace that might scratch. Anything that could ground her to this moment, this body.

“...before,” she manages, peeling the fabric off her. The night’s chill stings her skin. She nearly laughs-- in Lilias, this would a be a balmy night, and now she’s pimpled with goosebumps. “I haven’t forgotten how to undress myself.”

Stay here long enough and you’ll get the hang of it, Obi would be so quick to say. Or maybe, Master should be seeing to it that you do, Miss. But Kiki--

Kiki nods, skirting back to give her space she desperately doesn’t need. It’s strange how she can feel every inch of the gap between them, even though it is only empty air.

“Will you be coming tomorrow?” she asks, striving to keep her tone bright, buoyant. She may not feel like herself, but Shirayuki has made a career out of pushing forward, of persevering, and tonight is no different. “These other gowns are always a bit of a handful by myself.”

Kiki hums; it isn’t in agreement. “The consort will see to it.”

“Haki?” She tries to imagine that, the elegant queen of Clarines looping a hundred pearl buttons down her back.

Kiki’s lips cant into a soft smile, as if she knows just what Shirayuki must be thinking. “She’ll have women sent to you.”

“R-really?” She’s had maids before, lent to her when she traveled to Tanbarun, or sometimes for the night when Izana had deigned her appropriate company at one of Wistal’s balls, but for the queen to assign a pack of them herself, it seemed--

Official. A statement for other nobles to take notice of. Her stomach twists.

“She believes in you,” Kiki says quietly, laying a hand on her shoulder. “We all do.”

Her belly churns with a sickening flop. So did Obi.

Shirayuki shakes herself. It’s all going to be fine. Obi wouldn’t give up on her, and Zen wouldn’t give up on Obi either.

“R-right,” she manages, swallowing around the lump in her throat. “I’ll do my best.”

Is that not what we all want when we are lost? A way to leave the storm behind. A gentle guide to show us the way. An easy answer when none can be found.

It is said that lightning takes the path of least resistance; tree or pole or child-- all of them are the same in its eyes, so long as it meets the ground. And is that not what we are? Lightning in a bottle, a closed current seeking release. We hold a charge within ourselves and let it out when we touch metal. Sometimes even when we touch each other. No wonder we seize the easiest answer when we find it.

But, oh, how foolish we are to take it.

The covers surround her in a protective cocoon, warm and safe. Tonight’s turmoil has wrung her dry; she flops onto her mattress like a child who has run themselves to collapse. Dreams tantalize her from the corners of her vision, and she’s so ready to tip into their embrace, to take what oblivion they will give her with open arms.

There’s no reason to get so upset. 

She jolts from the edge of sleep, fingers clenched. It’s a stray thought, an echo of Zen’s voice; no reason for her heart to race, not when it’s true. Not when everything is taken care of.

It’s not odd for Obi to disappear with no explanation.

A protest strains against her lips, even with no one to rail against. The boy who left Wistal swimming in the fur of his coat isn’t the man who returned. He hasn’t been, not for years now-- maybe not even then. Not since they stood beneath a tree in Tanbarun and she said, I told you we’d see the town next time, right? Not since he’d dragged her along the walls of Lilias and showed her a sunset.

We might as well try to keep a cat indoors.

She rolls, burying her face in the soft cage of her pillow. There’s no point in worrying, not when Zen has everything well in hand, not when there are men out looking for him--

My lady, I don’t know any that have.

Her heart stutters in her chest. Zen had told her-- had promised her that he would send men out, and he wouldn’t-- he couldn’t--

The boy must have been mistaken. Or the consort had the right of it, and Zen had passed over the royal guard, using the knights of the Royal Circle instead. It would make sense; it would take more than a usual guardsman to catch a man of Obi’s skills, if he didn’t mean to be caught.

Whichever direction you’re heading in, he’d said, words misting in the air between them, a promise. I’ll be sure to follow along by your side.

Which can’t be true. Obi couldn’t-- he wouldn’t leave, not without saying goodbye. Not when he had so many promises to keep.

He saw a man leaping over the walls the night Sir Obi went missing. The guilt in Kai’s expression haunts her even now. He was seen leaving with a woman, my lady.

Shirayuki has always prided herself on her cleverness, how she could unravel the most tangled symptoms into a diagnosis. But she holds this puzzle in her hand, and no matter how she tries, she cannot make the pieces fit, cannot make them into a whole.

Obi is a man of his word. He jokes, but he never lies, she told Ryuu once, though she can hardly remember why now. He wouldn’t leave her, not like this. Or Ryuu. Or Zen. But yet, yet--

Did you know he didn’t leave alone?

The sheets tear from her, and oh, the morning is blinding, leaving her cold and blinking on her bed. Her eyes adjust, and there, in the bright glow of the dawn, stands the consort.

“It is time to get up, Shirayuki.” Her mouth curves into a smile. “There is much work to be done.”

There are no oars in this little boat, the girl realizes too late. She has no sooner pushed off from the shore then the current grabs her, hurtling her toward the river’s end. Water sprays up from the rapids, and her little boat rocks perilously under her feet. The easy path this may be, but it is not safe either.

There is a part of her that is frightened, watching as the world moves by her, taking her toward places unknown; but there is another part as well, and it is relieved. She may no longer be in control, but oh, that means she is also no longer to blame.

“So few gowns,” the consort remarks as her women parade Shirayuki’s closet for her review. “And so many of them out of season. They’ll have to be replaced.”

Shirayuki offers a brittle smile in the mirror as one of the maids firmly drags a comb through her hair. “I don’t--” she hisses, teeth tangling in a knot-- “I have as many as I need. Long skirts and fine dresses were bound to get ruined in the pharmacy.”

“But at necessary at court.” Her mouth bows into a faint frown, displeasure weighing on her brow. “You must understand, this is not a simple undertaking. You cannot just...pass a test and become worthy of a crown.”

“That isn’t--”

The consort raises a hand, and her words stutter to a halt. “You have made your position clear, Shirayuki. It is not the title nor the trappings you want, but Zen himself, and I--” she hesitates, gaze distant-- “it is part of why I want to help you. Love is no little thing.”

She smiles, a shy, secret thing, as if they were alone and the room not teeming with her maids. “It is worth all the pain, if you can have love as well. But--” the consort’s gaze fixes on her in the mirror-- “it is not enough. The kings of Clarines once ruled by divine right, and the people-- they have not forgotten.” Her expression shadows when she adds, “they cannot be allowed to forget.”

Shirayuki stares at her hands, flushed. Tanbarun’s royal family had been a joke rather than an inspiration, a vestige of a bygone age that the country had never quite shucked. She’d never held much stock in divine rights, in the idea that someone could be her superior by nothing more than being birthed from the right womb, but--

But being with Zen would mean participating in that fiction, upholding that illusion to keep him safe. “I don’t see what my dresses have to do with that.”

“Everything,” the consort assures her. “You have read fairy stories, haven’t you? Princes cast away because they are dressed as paupers, princesses made by conjuring the right gown-- we think with our eyes first, and then our thoughts. Do you see what I mean?”

Her lip worries beneath her teeth. She’s read those stories, yes, a thousand times, and in each one, it is the clothes than make the man, that set designs on how he is treat but--

The prince is always betrayed by his courtly manors, the princess found by the softness of her skin or made by the contents of her heart.

But those are just stories. Here, in Izana’s court...

Shirayuki bows her head, allowing the maid to slip a pin tight against her skull. “I do.”

“Good. I’ll call for my dressmaker.” The consort slides up beside her, inspecting her maid’s handiwork. “Lovely. Where do you keep your ornaments?”

“Oh.” She nods her her chin toward the wooden box. “Over there.”

The consort lifts the lid with elegant fingers, taking in a breath as if she means to speak--

And stills. Her fingers splay in the air, and she-- she closes the box.

“Well.” Her mouth melts into a warm smile. “That will have to be taken care of as well. Don’t worry, Shirayuki, you’re in good hands now.” Her teeth flash white behind her lips. “Mine.”

Why must these things always happen to children, you wonder. Could this girl not be a woman? Could this boy not be a man? Must it always be that the smallest and most vulnerable that are asked to wander the roads we most fear?

Certainly, they could be. Stories are but lenses through which we see ourselves, made more palatable for the distance. On another page, in another life, they could be a man and a woman on the cusp of something greater, the distance only increasing their longing--

But in a fairy tales there are rules, and the foremost among them is: you must be able to see the magic for it to happen.

When the boat pulls up to the shore, you must not see the beautiful women waiting at its dock, but instead the woman who can conjure. And that, that--

That is the provenance of a child.

Shirayuki is an eternal well of optimism, a veritable font of good will, but when it came to her training--

It’s impossible, she’d told Obi, face buried in her pillow. There’s no way any one person can do all this and look like they’re not trying.

He’d only grinned, idling by her bedside with his usual insolent grin. Glad to see Princess Lessons are going so well.

She’s prepared for more of the same, for the familiar two-steps-forward, ten-steps-back dance she’s been doing for the last few months only now with the added humiliation of the consort beside her but--

It’s different, this time.

“Shirayuki.” Lady Mihoko is entrenched in the divan today, looming with dignity of a temple’s ruin. It’s only the consort’s presence that has excavated her from her favorite chair, but she bears it like an statue missing a limb. “Pour the tea.”

She knows this for what it is: a trap. Mihoko’s maids flank the door to the parlor, ready and entirely willing to pour endless cups of too-sweet tea for everyone seated. This isn’t about thirst, oh no, but that she’s doing entirely too well. Mihoko wants to see her falter and fail as a girl with so common a spine should.

Shirayuki leans forward, mouth thin with concentration, and--

“Keep your shoulders back.” The consort sips delicately at her cup, her words barely rippling its contents. “Don’t round over. Pretend you have a pencil between your shoulder blades.”

Her hand stutters over the salver. A pencil--?

Lady Mihoko watches from her perch; a vulture waiting for a limping animal to fall. Shirayuki has always been at the top of her class, her time at Lilias served with distinction, but yet in this her failure is not only assumed but assured.

Fine. She pushes her shoulders back until the blades kiss, imagining that pencil between them, holding it still as she bends. It’s-- different. Exposing, almost, though she’s wearing no less than she was before, and--

And Lady Mihoko makes no comment as she pours, filling her cup to within a finger’s width of the rim. Nor does she have any disparaging remarks for when she fills the consort’s cup, or her own.

“Sugar?” Shirayuki offers mildly. The corners of her lips twitch, and it takes every last crumb of control she has to keep from smiling. The last thing she needs is for this victory to be tarnished by a vulgar expression.

Mihoko’s lips thin into a forbidding wrinkle, but holds out her cup. “It seems you are much improved,” she allows, begrudgingly, less a compliment and more an accusation.

Shirayuki will take it. “Thank you, Lady Mihoko.”

“Not that you could have sunk much further.” The lady takes a dainty sip before settling the cup onto its saucer. “But I suppose that would make any progress heartening.”

Her smile, carefully constructed to show no improprietous teeth, wavers. “You are...too kind.” The consort sends her a warning glance, and she adds, “My lady.”

“I know I am.” Mihoko glares down her nose, severe. “You should be grateful that Her Majesty has taken you under her wing. The queen of Clarines has much more pressing duties than to educate a--” she casts a disapproving look over her-- “hopeful.”

“Please, Lady Mihoko.” The consort’s mouth rounds into a pleasant curve, the perfect smile. “I am all too happy to fill my hours with such pleasant company as Lady Shirayuki’s. A lady may learn the right fork or the proper dance for an occasion, but one cannot teach a good heart or an interesting mind.”

Her ladyship harrumphs, a quake that shudders through her from slipper to veil, tenders no harsher reply than a sip from her cup. Some degree of royal relation she might be, but even Mihoko won’t quarrel with a queen.

“I’m very grateful!” Shirayuki assures her. “This whole, um, process has been quite challenging and, ah...”

Lonely, she doesn’t say. It nearly tips out all on its own before she even knows it is there, but now it catches in her teeth, sticky and unpleasant.

“It’s an honor,” she finishes, lamely. Mihoko only nods, propriety fulfilled, but the consort--

Haki stares at her, chin tilted, a finger laying thoughtfully along her jaw. She may not be Izana, but her gaze itches like his, as if she were a puzzle that needed solving, or even--

A bug under a glass.

It is not that the girl did not know the danger of sorceresses. Oh no, she had been warned about such women, had read of them in books and shivered at the sound of them in song. But standing as she is, shoes in hand, alone on a river too swift to swim and no oars with which to row--

She makes a choice.

The boat rocks as it comes to shore, so gentle under the sorceress’s guidance, and the little girl makes herself as placid, as docile. That has always been the way she fooled adults before; misbehavior is only assumed from unruly children, but an obedient one--

Well, she has only gotten this far because no one expects the obedient one to run.

It is a good plan, a clever plan, one any young child could be proud of, but--

She does not expect this sorceress.

It had never occurred to her how mortifying it would be to have someone to watch her fail lesson after lesson, to hear as her teachers passed along their lukewarm-- at best-- praise. Shirayuki had always been top of her class, her professors’ best student, and now--

Now she’s grateful Obi had to stand outside while she floundered. One day of the consort’s steady observation and she wants to lay down in her bed and never be seen again.

“You did well.”

Shirayuki turns, eyes wide, as the consort follows her into her room. “What do you mean?”

She blinks, head tilted. “I mean what I said: you did well.”

But I didn’t nearly tips right out, nearly falls straight on the carpet like an ink stain, but she catches it, just in time.

“You’re too kind,” she manages, because somehow implying a lie is more palatable than saying it outright. “I’m not sure my tutors would agree with you.”

The consort waves a hand, as if such worries were little more than smoke. “They are used to ladies. To breeding. When compared to a girl who has been training for this opportunity all her life...yes, you fall quite short. But that is not who you are.”

Haki steps forward, taking one of her hands in hers. “You are the woman who saved Lilias. That some believe a straight spine or a sprightly step could be worth more than that in a princess is--” she takes a breath, agitated-- “antiquated.”

Shirayuki stares, mouth slack, hand limp. “I thought you said--”

“It is important for the people to remember why kings are give the power they possess,” Haki tells her, her eyes so blue, so earnest. “But a good king earns the trust of his people by surrounding himself with the best minds his kingdom can offer. Anyone can learn to hold a fork, Shirayuki, but you--” she smiles-- “you cannot be replaced.“

Something in her chest squirms, but it’s not unpleasant. More like...a squirrel that’s made its next in a tree’s heart, finally waking after a long winter.”

“Oh,” she croaks past the lump in her throat. “Oh.”

In the stories, the sorceresses are old. Or failing that, they are seductresses, dark haired and pale-skinned, every word a twist of the knife.

But this one, oh-- this one is so beautiful and young, her hat so brightly painted with flowers. There is no danger etched on her face or molded in the curves of her body, no sharp teeth or crooked grin. Just a smile, so warm and so gentle.

The little girl is not foolish; she knows exactly how it is when you are not what you seem but--

She does not expect this.

Nor she does not expect to say, “I love roses,” the moment the woman touches her hand.

“You poor child.” When the woman speaks, every word is a song, “How did you come all this way on such a dangerous river? You must be very brave indeed.”

No one had ever called the little girl that before. Pretty, of course, and kind, and often gentle, but brave--

You must tell me who you are, the sorceress says, awe plain in her voice, and how you came here. I must know everything of such a clever little girl.

Her eyes prickle, and before she quite knows what to do, tears stream down her cheek.

Oh, my darling. Arms wrap around her, warm and soft, and oh, how long has it been since she has been held, just like this? So long, so long. No more worries. I have you. I will take care of you.

“Your Majesty, I must insist.” Arundo’s brow blisters with sweat, his dark eyes pleading. “Truly, it is my duty to instruct Mistress Shirayuki. I cannot possible ask you--”

“You are not asking,” the consort reminds him, her mouth hooked into a devious smile. “And I am the one insisting. I think a change of partners will do her ladyship a world of good.”

The dancing master pales. Shirayuki can’t blame him; if Izana was to find out she mangled his wife’s feet as she did Arundo’s...

“I’m not sure she’s ready for such a, ah...change.” He wrings his hands, mopping at his brow. “Surely a few more weeks, and perhaps--”

“I have been watching these lessons for quite some time, Master Arundo, would you not agree?” The man has no recourse but to nod, not with the way the consort pins him with her gaze, hedging him against the wall with her imposing posture. “I have noticed a few areas in which her understanding of the dance might be improved.”

All of them, probably. Despite years of tutors, Shirayuki has never quite grasped the finer areas of dance. Not that there hadn’t been some successes-- she never seemed to embarrass herself in Tanbarun when Raj insisted on a waltz, and Obi always managed to make her look capable, if not competent, but outside that--

Well, Her Majesty shouldn’t be wearing slippers facing off against her feet.

Arundo deflates in the face of her determination. “Ah, well...if you’re certain...Your Majesty...”

“I am.” The consort turns to her, skirts skimming the floor. Ah, it had been hard enough avoiding Arundo’s feet when she could see them; this hemline can only complicate matters. “Come, I’ll lead you through it. A waltz might seem hard to start, but there’s very little to remember.”

Shirayuki doesn’t have the heart to tell her that’s what they’d been trying to do before Arundo had decided that learning polka might behoove her more, if only because it put space between her partner and her feet. “Ah...if you think so.”

“I know so.” Haki tilts her a small, secretive smile. “Give me your hand.”

With one last helpless glance at Arundo, she does. The consort’s palm is cool against hers, like marble warming under her touch, and she slides into the circle of her arms with only a little finagling.

“I should be about the right height.” Her face is so close-- nearly too close, the her eyes so pale and so clear, so unlike the deep Wisteria blue. “Give or take an inch or two.”

That is all the warning she has; the accompanist starts a thoughtful piece, slow yet bright, and the consort sweeps her across the floor. She stumbles on the first step, but the music’s pace makes it easy to recover, to remember the simple rhythm of up, up, down; up-up-down--

She steps out into her turn, arm lifted, and--

Just barely misses Her Majesty’s slippered foot, slid to safety just in time.

Haki laughs, and it’s so different when it is not a disappointed tutor that looks back, but Her Majesty’s smiling face. As if she were not in a practice room, but a bed chamber, practicing on a lark instead of disastrously careening toward a deadline.

“Well then,” Haki breathes, holding her stomach as if it might cease her giggles. “Now we know what we need to work on.”

The girl is but a child, well-loved and then sent into the world alone, shell of determination over a soft body of longing. For how long has she been reaching out her hands only to come back empty? For how long has she been calling for help, only to go unheard?

And now a hand catches hers with warm smiles above it, with arms so ready to hold the burden she’s been carrying for far, far too long...

The little girl enters a garden, and oh, who are we to judge when she grasps with both hands.

“Well done, once again.” Haki slumps onto the divan beside her, flushed, eyes bright. “I think you’ve nearly gotten that waltz.”

Shirayuki delicately closes her jaw. “I’m...I don’t really think that’s true. I nearly stepped on you at least two dozen times.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Only because you’re much quicker than Arundo is,” she laughs. “Which is good, otherwise Izana would have--” she coughs, flustering under the consort’s bemused smile-- “I mean, His Majesty would have been quite upset if I’d broken your foot.”

Her Majesty hums, gaze measuring. “I see he was right.”

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You’re really not afraid of him.” Haki’s sweet smile sharpens into a grin. “Izana.”

“Hguk.” If only she knew how to answer questions like these-- or at least, how to answer them when someone with a His or Her poses them, looking for an answer that is not respect is earned, not given.

“I’m from Tanbarun,” Shirayuki settles on, since that seems...safe.

“Yes,” Haki hums, all too knowing. “I could see how a royal title might not impress you.” 

She has the sudden, perverse urge to object. Raj might have once been a black mark on Tanbarun’s reputation, the prince no princess would deign to entertain as a prospect, but now-- now he was a prince the people could be proud of. That she could be proud of. Even if he was a little ridiculous.

But she doubts that consort would understand such a change. So she drowns the impulse in the tea a maid hands her.

Haki sips at her own with effortless elegance, measuring her with a glance. “I suppose that is part of your charm. That you don’t believe in this,” she explains, “the superiority of good breeding.”

Tea burns when she breathes it instead of swallowing, and well, a coughing fit is one way to get out of having to answer...any of that.

Haki pats her back, harder than Shirayuki would expect from a woman raised to be a king’s demure shadow. “There, there.” The words ripple with the undercurrent of a giggle. “Let us talk of something else instead. Perhaps the reason your mind wanders?”

The garden and its marvels lead to a cottage, its walls of wattle and its roof of thatch. The most delicious smells waft through the window-- fresh baked bread, hot fruit tart--

Come inside, the sorceress says, I have sweet berries, fresh picked, and cool cream with which to have it.

The little girl hesitates, red shoe hovering over the threshold. It was one thing to stand upon the dock with her, to be held and hold in return, to walk among her flowers and marvel at the sight, but it’s quite another to enter her home, the center of her power. Unless she wants to be sweet child stew--

You must tell me how you came to be here. The sorceress smiles, so warm. I will help you, if I am able.

The little girl steps inside.

The consort smiles in her silence, sweeping up across the room. “You have such pretty hair pieces,” she remarks brightly, “I must applaud your taste.”

“Oh I...I didn’t pick them,” she admits. “I don’t really have an eye for that sort of thing.”

A perfectly shaped eyebrow lifts. “You don’t mean to say my good brother did. I never thought him the type.”

“Oh! No, it wasn’t him,” she laughs. “Obi...”

I’m looking for a boy, the little girl says, for despite all her cleverness, there are some tricks a child cannot see. He has dark hair. He is this tall. He gave me these shoes.

My oh my, the sorceress says, leading her to a chair. There are no other children in this house, but even still it is the right size, just large enough so that her toes brush at the floor when she kicks them. You describe him so well. He seems like he must be a very good boy.

He is, for he is, even if he’s strayed from her. But he is lost.

This is for you. The pin balances awkwardly behind her ear, hair entirely too short for something like it. He smiles at her, something lopsided and sharp. She hardly knows him then, only thinking that she must look ridiculous. Still, his eyes are the clearest she’s ever seen as he says, Part of my prize.

Is that so? the sorceress hums. Do you mind very much if I were to brush your hair? It is so disheveled from your travels, I would hate for it to get too tangled.

The girl hesitates, her hands in her lap. The berries and cream look very good indeed, and when the sorceress brings out her brush, it is mother of pearl, so pretty and so fine. She knows what they say about strange food, she knows what they say can be done with only a few strands of hair, but-- she is a small girl, so weary, so unused to kindness, and--

She nods.

Since there’s no martial arts match to win, he teases, so many years later, I thought we’d go choose another one for you.

It sits heavy in her hands as she stand in the hall, waiting.

Thank you, she says, meeting eyes that are still so clear all these years later, thank you so much for this

Have you seen him? she asks, watching the woman warily as she approaches. The little girl has heard of what conjurers might do, but she is a strong girl, a brave girl, a clever one. She would not be fooled by illusion. My boy?

Your boy? The sorceress sweeps close, the scent of flowers wafting on the air. I have not.

The brush is so soft in her hair, so lulling. She can feel her eyes drift to half mast. It has been so long since she rested.

But I’m sure he’ll come through. The sorceress’s mouth rounds into a dangerous curve. Everyone does, eventually.

You’re drunk, she decides, watching the way he sways on the balls of his feet, swaying like a sailor at sea. Still, he’s coiled tight, braced for an attack. Even soused, he’s vigilant Obi, I know that--

You don’t know anything about me, Miss.

His eyes have never been cloudier.

You have roses, the little girl slurs, so many of them, and so beautiful.

You like them? It’s hard to keep her eyes open now, her head nodding at the table.

They are my favorite, she says, my boy and I...we raised roses together.

The brush pauses, mid-stroke. You don’t say?

“It’s too bad you have so few.” The consort reaches out a hand, her fingers catching in her hair. The touch is so unexpected, Shirayuki forgets to flinch. “Your hair is so lovely.”

“Thank you,” she manages, which is better than saying, I hear that a lot.

It’s no use; Haki’s mouth lifts wryly, and even though she hasn’t said a word, Shirayuki knows she’s heard every one. “You’ll have to let me lend you one of mine.”

“Wha?” She blinks, staring as the consort rounds the divan, clasp in hand. “I couldn’t--”

“Put it in yourself? I know. Please,” the consort comes to sit beside her, pales eyes shining eagerly, “allow me to pin it for you.”

“I...” Shirayuki snaps her lips over her protest; Haki may only be the consort, but still, saying no to a queen was what Obi would call career limiting. “You’re too kind.”

Her hands are gentle as she removes the pins lying tight against Shirayuki’s scalp. “Oh no, not at all. It’s the least I could do for my sister.”

She says it so casually, as if this were all settled, as if Shirayuki’s success was already assured and not balanced on the head of a pin, and--

And for once, Shirayuki believes it.

You should stay, the sorceress says, and the little girl hardly hears it, her chin cradled on her arms.

I can’t, I can’t, she yawns, looking out on the world through the net of her lashes. I have to find my boy.

He’ll come, in time, the woman assures her. As I said, everyone does. Why not wait here?

With what she’d seen of Rona’s skills the last time she’d visited Tanbarun, Shirayuki expected to be left with a rat’s nest that would take three maids to untangle. But the consort’s hands are practiced, neatly twisting and lifting as she pins.

“Have you’ve done this before?” She grimaces; there was probably much more polite way to put that, one that didn’t call a queen’s qualifications into question. “I mean...there aren’t many ladies of the court that know how to, um, do this.”

“Take care of themselves? Yes,” she hums, too amused, “I know. I was one of the dowager’s handmaidens when she was queen. We didn’t need to do much, but, well...a girl like to distinguish herself, doesn’t she?”

“O-oh.” She bites her lip, thoughtful. “So...before you were the Mistress of Lilias? Is that how you met Izana?”

Her hands still, just for a moment, before twisting another piece. “No. We have known each other...far longer than that. Our fathers were...”

“Friends?” Shirayuki supplies, when Haki does not.

“No, better-- allies. I was practically raised with the Wisterias.”  She laughs. “No wonder I was always desperate for a sister. Good thing at least one of my brothers has decided to oblige me.”

The comb’s teeth skim against her scalp, and Shirayuki grimaces. “With someone no one expected.”

The consort drops down beside her, companionably close, closing a hand around hers. “Perhaps you did not realize, Shirayuki, how serious I was. I am as selfish as any of these men, though what I want from you is not feminine perfection.” She grins, and it’s not like Izana’s, a prelude to a challenge, but an invitation to mischief. “Don’t forget that before I was the queen of Clarines, I was the mistress of Lilias. If the woman who saved the North is an unorthodox choice to the relics of this court...then it is just the one I want. Do you understand?”

Stay, my precious girl, the sorceress whispered, I have long been waiting for a dear little maiden like you.

“I do.”

It is dark when one woman says to another, “There is a box in her room, on the dresser. Do you know it?”

The second bows her head. “I do.”

“Good.” The first worries a lip, hesitant. “See that it disappears.”

“I...” The second straightens, nods. “I will.”

A little girl sleep and a sorceress stands in her garden.

You must stay with me, she says as the roses seep beneath the ground, and see how happily we shall live together.

[eddsworld-late]

The Box Part 1

The Red Army learns where those missing Amazon packages go.

1515 words, 8566 characters.

     Yuu lead the way for Yanov, Patryck and Paul as he left the base, gun cocked and loaded, head held high, ammo and wasp bombs in his backpack and a first aid kit tucked under his arm. These four were on a mission. “What are we doing again?” Yanov asked, tilting his head slightly as he spoke. “We’re off to get a box,” Yuu replied, marching to the plane with dread in his heart at the thought of Paul and Patryck flying, “He said it was just a basic supply run, but he’s keeping it too hush-hush for that.” Yanov nodded quietly as he climbed in and took a seat. Patryck took the wheel and Paul sat beside him. Yuu took the seat next to Yanov and away they went, soaring across the sky in search of this box.

    Patryck set the plane to autopilot and kicked his feet up on the control panel. “I love flying,” he said quietly. Paul just stared at him blankly. “You don’t even do anything,” he replied, “All you do is put it on autopilot and sit back.” “And all you do is talk on the radio and push buttons,” Patryck sighed, “Namely mine.”

   Yanov pulled out his joycon and played some Pokemon while Yuu watched and cheered him on. It went on like this for some hours until Patryck landed the plane and they all got out.

    Yanov stared at the place, looking up from his Switch. It was a wide open military base. “Where are we?” he asked quietly. “It’s a military base,” Paul replied blankly, “Probably one of our enemies.” “That all makes sense!” Yuu exclaimed, “Tord ordered something and one of our rivals took it for themselves! Where are we?” “Bosnia,” Patryck said, “That place Tord is banned from.” And with that, they walked in.

    The four snuck around, avoiding any guards they saw, making sure not to be seen. However, despite their best efforts, Yanov took too long to duck behind a box and was seen. The guards rushed them immediately and the four fled the gunfire. Unfortunately, they were split up, each going down their own paths.

    Yanov bolted down the path he was on, eager to make to to the box, which he could clearly see from where he was. He drew his gun and aimed at the knees of his pursuers. He typically didn’t shoot at anything other than zombies, but kneecaps weren’t a moral qualm of his. Being something of a crackshot, he hit his mark nearly every time, ducking behind the box to avoid returned gunfire. He peeked out before picking it up and running for it, only to be tripped, sending the box and his Switch across the floor. The box stopped first. The Switch only stopped when another soldier – Blue Leader herself – walked over, stepping on it and crushing it with her foot. Wordlessly, she picked the box up and carried it off. Yanov stared in shock before running back to the plane. His Switch was just destroyed! AND she stole the box! This meant war!

    Yuu dashed into a room and hid. The guards eventually got off his tail, but stayed in the room he was in, so he decided a stealthy explosion would work. With a sly grin, he pulled the silencer off his pistol, pulled a grenade out of his ammunition pouch and used an extra shoelace he had to tie the silencer to the grenade. He quietly yawned off the lack of sleep he’d been suffering from for a few days, pulled the pin and threw it into the room, quickly ducking back behind the barricade.

   Patryck lead the guards all over their base, bringing the total of guards still following him to just one. At that point, he grabbed a handful of glitter from his pocket and threw it in his face, yelling “SMOKESCREEN!” before he ran back to the plane.

     Paul hid behind some boxes until the guards following him left, then he snuck out and found his way around the base. He silently followed after one of the guards headed towards Blue Leader’s quarters. “Do you have the box contained, Blue Leader?” the guard asked as Paul ducked behind a corner. “Yes,” she replied sternly, “I do. Did you take care of Red Leader’s men?” “They ran off screaming.”      Suddenly, before she could reply, an alarm went off. Blue Leader and the guard whipped around to look at a screen popping out of the wall. “And he’s back with a flamethrower,” she growled, “See, this is why I told you I want them DEAD. Dead, you hear me! DEAD!” Paul actually cracked a slight smile. He didn’t know what those Blue Army soldiers did to Yanov, but they certainly pushed the wrong buttons. In the distance, gunfire and screaming could be heard. “GO!” Blue Leader yelled, shoving the guard towards the room of screaming, “I won’t have this freak in a fursuit burning my men alive!”      Yuu jumped awake at the sounds of gunfire and screaming. He tiredly rubbed his eyes and stood up. The room was empty… Except for one thing. The box! He quickly ran to it and began pushing it towards the plane. He wasn’t met with much resistance until he got there. Several guards charged him, but he toppled them like dominoes with a spinning sweep kick. His robotic legs may have been an issue for speed, but when it came to kick strength, he was unmatched. He smirked and the guards attempted to get up from their pile while he pushed the box onto the plane. As he stood up, he head the click of a gun behind his head.      Patryck got up as soon as he heard the scraping against the floor of the plane. Gun at the ready, he made his way to the cargo bay and found none other than Blue Leader herself holding Yuu at gunpoint. Without hesitation, she aimed a second gun at him. “Don’t move Patryck,” she scowled, “I won’t let you take that box back. Some guards walked Paul into the cargo bay, also at gunpoint. “What is so important that’s in that box?!” Yuu asked. “That’s classified,” she replied coldly, “Now all we need is your furry friend and we can get going.” “Going?” Patryck asked, “Where are you taking us?” “The Bermuda Triangle!” she laughed, “You and your leader’s precious little box will go missing forever!” The remaining guards dragged Yanov in without his flamethrower. “Unhand me!” he cried, “I’m not finished with you! You stole the box! You broke my Switch! You stole my flamethrower!” “Those are your problems,” Blue Leader replied, “Now say goodnight, Gracie.”      “Goodnight Gracie,” Paul said calmly, stabbing a butterfly knife into the shoulders of one of the guards holding him. He flipped the knife around a few times with a grin and lunged at Blue Leader. In a flash – quite literally – she slammed her guns together and they fused, creating her own actual gunblade. At the push of a button, it grew much larger than the size of either gun. Paul ducked as she fired, swinging his blade through the air. The bullet hit one of her guards and Paul’s knife lodged itself into the back of her cybernetic thigh. She grunted and shot a glare at the Dutchman, who simply grinned back. “Why you little...” she growled, whipping the gunblade around to hit Yuu, only to be grabbed from behind by Patryck. “I’ll take that!” Yuu smiled as he yanked the gunblade away, “I’m sure Red Leader will love this. You know how much he loves anime.”      “You may have taken my gun,” she grinned, “But you know my legs are still killer!” And with that, she flipped backwards, kicking Patryck in the face before she landed on her feet, freed from his hold on her. She pulled a third gun out of her jacket and aimed it at Yuu. “I have a new plan,” she said calmly, “Guards, take these four idiots to the testing chamber. I want them to meet Sally.”      And so, they were dragged off and shoved in a sterile lab-like arena-esque chamber with a high ceiling and a giant door at the other end. “Sally was an experiment of mine a few years ago,” Blue Leader smirked, “An experiment in… Reanimating the dead. And she sure is hungry.” The boys looked at each other. “A zombie?” Yanov asked. “Yes!” she replied, “Smart points go to the furry for once in his tragically short life! Au revoir!” “I’m not a furry!” he protested, “I’m a scalie! There’s a difference!” Paul actually laughed. “We’ve dealt with zombies before!” he said, “Try us!” Blue Leader simply grinned as a distant rumbling drew nearer. The large door opened and for a moment, the four saw nothing. Then, a zombie tyrannosaurus rex entered the room. They stared in shock. “Don’t move a muscle...” Paul whispered, “She can’t see us if we don’t move.” “Paul?” Yuu replied, “You do realize that that series got a lot wrong, right? Including that whole thing about staying still?” “What he’s trying to say is that we should run like crazy and try to think of a way out of here,” Patryck said, trembling. And they did. While screaming and flailing. END PART 1

[therealcalicali]

The Divide - Prince Stoneheart’s Requiem

Theme: Vikings Era

Type: One Shot

Imagine: Ivar meeting a foreign woman whose family has recently moved to Kattegat. Despite their affinity for one another, the two cannot seem to get things right. 

Pairing: Ivar x  POC Reader 

Warnings: Heavy Angst and Fluff 

As requested by @themusingofagothicsoul

_________________________________

“Father! Father!” You exclaimed, as you rushed excitedly from your chamber. 

It was larger and nicer than you had expected so you couldn’t wait to fully personalize everything. Initially, you had thought you would hate the move to new lands, but so far, so good. As you made it down the long corridor, you bolted into the Study.

“Father! You were right. Kattegat is not as awful as I had anticipated. The servants just helped me put up the canopy around my bed like back home.”

Amused by your words, your father stroked his beard as he raised his head. His hazel eyes observed you as he sat at a large desk strewn with documents.

As always, there was hardly any leisure time for him. Even though your family had only arrived two days prior, your father was already he buried in his work.

“I am glad to hear that, Y/N.” He replied with a pleased but almost smug expression. “Did I not tell you to trust your father? I will never steer your wrong.”

“I suppose. But must you be so proud of being right?” You asked with a laugh. 

“Of course. What kind of parent would I be if I did not take time to gloat when given the opportunity?”

Laughing, you gingerly walked to him and looked over his shoulder.

“Father, can you and I do something today? The servants said Mother has gone on some errand but I am eager to see more of this place.”

Your father shook his head, his long dark locks swaying as he did so. Though he couldn’t leave his work, he informed you that your sisters were getting ready to go into town. Apparently, they wanted to get new dresses made and had somehow forgotten to invite you along. 

Perhaps it was because they were both older or they felt you wouldn’t be interested. 

“I think you should go along.” Your father suggested as he picked up a container of red wax and began to melt it. “It would not only be more enjoyable with them, but you have my permission to to buy as you please.”

“But I do not wish to just buy things as they do. I want to see more of Kattegat. And I know they will just spend the entire time in shops and at merchant stands.”

Your father looked at you thoughtfully as he placed the now melted container of wax down. 

“I understand.” He said with all the understanding you had come to expect from him. “Just have this little outing with your sisters today and I promise to make time for us to do something later this week. Just you and I.”

Since your father was always so kind, you didn’t want to keep pestering him any further. Agreeing to the excursion with your elder sisters, you gave him a kiss and left him to his papers.

________________________

“Aaliya, just look at this place!” Your sister Sheena exclaimed as the three of you sat in the horse drawn carriage. “Oh, and over there. I see a dressmakers that appears to have expensive fabrics.”

If anything got them excited, it was spending your father’s hard earned wealth on fancy things. From dresses to jewelry, your sisters spent their time procuring the best of everything. You, on the other hand, were slightly different. Though you enjoyed having nice things, it was never your focus. 

In fact, shopping didn’t excite you like it did Sheena and Aaliya. Truth be told, you were more of an adventurer. With your father being Indus (Indian) and your mother being from the land of the Nubians, you were more fascinated by cultures. 

The more you traveled with your family, the more you realized that perhaps it was your calling to explore. You weren’t sure if you would become an Emissary like your father or a Translator like your mother, but you knew one thing. You would see the world.

“Hey daydreamer! Wake up already!” Sheena, snapped. “We have arrived.”

As the three of you were helped out the carriage by some Thralls, you took notice of a few beggars standing nearby. Unlike your sisters, when you were helped out of the carriage, you didn’t avoid them. Instead, you asked the servant with the money bag to give them coin.

“Are you certain, my Lady?” He asked with a look of apprehension. “If you give to them, other beggars might bother you later on.”

“And so what? Giving coin to the unfortunate is better than spending it on more dresses that I hardly have room for.”

Despite appearing to be against your command, the servant gave each beggar enough to provide sustenance for a few days. When you entered the dressmakers, your sisters were already doing what they did best. They had not  even been in the store long but were already pointing out expensive fabrics to the merchant.

_______________________________

“Sheena, you know very well that I do not want those furs. Mother already purchased plenty for us all before the journey. Besides, you promised that we could go to the Relic merchant’s stand if I was patient. But that was hours ago.” You said, shifting on your feet.

Your elder sister glanced at you before giving a slight roll of her eyes. She just didn’t understand you. Why couldn’t you be satisfied with a day of dress shopping? Why did you always complain after vising a few shops?

“Then wait for us outside.” Aaliya snapped. Your other sister was tired of hearing you ask to go elsewhere. Like Sheena, she just wanted to shop without having to deal with your distractions. “In fact, why not go to the Relic merchant yourself? You can meet us by the carriage in an hour’s time.”

That was all you needed to hear. Grabbing one guard and a Thrall, you hurried away, glad to leave your sisters to their nonsense.

“You had no right to suggest such a thing to her.” Sheena said as she watched you and the servants disappear into the crowd. “We have only been here two days. Y/N knows nothing of this place.”

“Stop worrying so much.” A distracted Aaliya said as she busied herself looking at silk fabrics. “She will be fine.”

“You better hope so. You know how she likes to run off on her adventures.”

“The servants will not allow her to do such a thing.” Aaliya replied, dismissing the concern altogether. She then spotted the prettiest red silk imported from West Francia. Handing her other items to a shop worker, Aaliya went and took hold of the fabric right away. “Oh, look at this one Sheena! Would this not make the prettiest Sari?”

————————

Excitedly, you were walking down a wide pathway when you suddenly stopped. You had caught sight of a young man standing over another man. The man on the ground was bloodied and had his hands were up in defensive positioning.

“I beg mercy, my Prince. It shall not happen again.”

“See that it does not. Trust me, I shall not be so merciful the next time.”

You were shocked and appalled. As the daughter of the High Emissary to the King of Kushan, you had been around your share of Royals. However, you couldn’t recall any of them being so violent.

As the crowd dissipated, you drew closer. When the Prince; who you now noted used a crutch to walk; appeared to be leaving, you went to the man on the ground. At first, he was alarmed. Perhaps thinking you were going to strike him as well.

But when he realized you were merely trying to look at his wounds, he took his hands from his face. Seeing that the stranger was in a bad way, you instructed your guard to help him from the ground. You also ordered your Thrall to tend to his wounds.

As you were watching your servants help the man onto a bench, an angry voice rang out. You then felt someone grab hold of your arm.

“Woman! What do you think you are doing?

Your eyes widened as you came face-to-face with the dark-haired Prince. If he had been any angrier, he would have burst into flames.

"I am helping this man, your Highness.”

His blue eyes bore into yours as if he wanted go on a tirade. Instead, he let go of you and glanced at a flaxen-haired woman.

“Did you hear that Freydis? Apparently, this girl thinks she can insert herself in my affairs.”

The woman didn’t reply. Instead, her eyes went to the ground as if she was unsure of how to respond. However, a man standing beside her stepped forward.

“Ivar, just leave it. I am certain that she meant no offense” The slender, flaxen-haired man advised. “Besides, we have no time for this. Ubbe and the others await.”

Almost ignoring his words, the Prince stared at you a moment longer. He then cocked his head to one side with curiosity.

“What is your name?”

“Pardon?”

“Your name, woman! The thing everyone receives upon birth.”

“I……I am Sheena.” You replied, lying through your teeth. 

Why you gave your sisters name, you weren’t certain. You just didn’t want the imbecile to know who you were.

“Sheena?” Prince Ivar repeated as he eyed your intricate clothing. At one point, even touching one of your bracelets causing you to move your hand away. “Such a pretty name for a person who doesn’t know how to mind her own business.”

You glared at him as he gave an odd, almost sinister chuckle before turning to walk away.

As you watched the Prince walk to a horse driven chariot, you shook your head. The woman and man with him seemed fine enough but he was everything you hated. Though you could see that he was crippled and walked with the aid of a crutch, you felt no empathy. The Prince’s treatment of the underclass disgusted you.

“What a wicked young man! The Gods forbid that I ever have to see that cumberworld again! (a useless person who takes up space)”

______________________________

“Father, why do I have to attend? After all, I have no desire to meet any more Royals.”

Your father smiled at your assertion. He knew how much you detested being around Royalty at times but it came with his title. 

“Listen, Ducky.....” He said, making sure to call you by your pet-name. “I know you are not keen on the conversations of your peers, but just try, for my sake.”

“Fine. I shall get dressed. But I will not enjoy myself.”

Your father gave you a dimpled smile. He then ran his hand over your head lovingly, pleased that you were willing to set aside personal feelings for duty.

As you were leaving, your mother entered dressed in a red and gold Sari. And was she ever a vision to behold. Her deep-brown complexion looked as if the Sun God Ra had kissed her golden. And her dark hair was braided down her back with gold beading on the ends.

“What are you two conspiring about this time?” She asked taking a seat beside your father. Immediately, he took her hand in his. Undeterred, she then looked between the two of you again. “Well, I am waiting.”

“There is no plotting this time around, mother. We were only speaking of tonight’s festivities.”

“What of it?”

“Well, I was telling father that I have grown bored of meeting Royals. That is all I am ever around.”

Your mother looked at your father, the two of them exchanging knowing looks. They found your assertion humorous since there was no escaping it. Not with the type of titles they held. 

“I know that royals can be eccentric at times. However, they are in your circle of influence so you must become accustomed.” Your father said thoughtfully.

“I know but I just want to meet other types of people. Normal people.” You replied with a sigh. “King Kanishka’s children think I am strange. But Prince Arun was the one I could count on to back me. However, I do not understand him anymore. One moment, he says he admires my way of thinking, and the next, he sides with his siblings.”

Your father chuckled so loudly that in nearly startled you. As for your mother, she only smiled. Confused by their apparent amusement at your confession, you raised a brow.

“Do not be so quick to judge Prince Arun. He actually likes you a great deal.” Your father said. “In fact, I would go as far as to say that he adores you. At least that is what the Queen told us recently.”

Your eyes grew twice their size. Was your father serious? Prince Arun speaking about you to his mother?

“Why is he speaking to the Queen about me? Is he that much of a coddled milksop?”

“Y/N!” Your mother exclaimed - half amused and half bothered. “That is not a nice thing to say.”

“I know.” You confessed. “But it is the truth. Father says that anyone who runs to their mother too often is a milksop.”

Your mother eyed your father who only cleared his throat while avoiding her gaze. He knew very well that he was not to teach you such words. After all, these were terms he was supposed to teach a son. 

“Hira! Will you please stop corrupting, Y/N. Do you wish her go around insulting people like a sailor?”

“Of course not, Zahra. I just wish for her to be like me. Assertive.”

Your mother scoffed before looking at you. She then informed you that you would continue the conversation at another time. 

______________________________

“Stop fidgeting, Y/N!” Sheena demanded as she sat between you and Aaliya in the horse drawn carriage.

“But, I have not moved” You replied, confused by her accusation. “You are just feeling the road.”

“It is not the road! It is you!” She snapped. “If you do not stop moving around, I will be forced to tie you in place.”

You sighed in frustration. Sheena was always irritable when she was about to meet new people. Being a perfectionist, she would stress over her appearance until she became a nightmare to be around. Though you told her she looked beautiful, she turned her nose up at your compliment. 

"I agree with Ducky.” Your father said. “You girls look very pretty.”

You and your sisters were donned in the elaborately decorated Saris and jewelry as selected by your mother. Typically, she allowed the three of you to choose your own clothing but since this was the first official presentation, she took no chances.

“Why did I have to wear purple? You know very well that I prefer red to anything else.” Aaliya whined yet again. She had been doing so since leaving home. “I should be allowed to choose my own clothes for such events. After all, I know what looks best on me!”

Your mother, who was seated beside your father, cut her a stern look. She then warned the three of you to be on your best behavior.

“I do not wish to hear any more bickering and questions. This is an official visit and you girls are behaving as if you do not know protocol.” Your mother added as she chastised the three of you. “Now, I do not wish to hear any thing else the rest of the ride.”

“Why do you lump me in with Sheena and Aaliya?” You chimed in before you thought better of it. “That is not fair!”

Your mother didn’t get angry, fortunately. However, she did ask you to refrain from complaining any further. Being the apple of your father’s eye, you naturally looked at him for support. However, he was in no mood to override anything your mother had said. 

“Fine, I see that I shall always get punished for what my sisters do.” You thought. “I shall be glad when they get married and move out.”

______________________________

“Welcome to Kattegat, High Emissary Hira. I am pleased to have you and your family under my roof tonight.” King Ragnar bellowed as he heartily shook your father’s hand while directing his words to your mother.

To his shock, despite your mother being the Royal Translator, both your parents  father both responded to his greeting in the native Dǫnsk Tunga. With a crooked smirk, King Ragnar looked at his Queen before looking at your parents again.

“You surprise me. I expected to speak to through your translator. How do you know our tongue so well?”

“My wife taught me, your Majesty.”

“This is wonderful. And your inflections are accurate enough.” Ragnar said with a hearty laugh. “You did well, Lady Zhara.”

“She insisted.” You father said, placing his hand on the small of your mother’s back. “And as you and I both know, it’s hard to say no to the wife.”

King Ragnar playfully hit your father’s shoulder as he eyed your mother with a twinkle in his eyes. He was truly impressed. It wasn’t often that an Emissary took the time to learn his tongue. And though speaking through interpreters worked well enough, he did prefer personal conversation. 

“And your girls? Do they also speak our tongue?” Queen Alsaug asked, pointing at you and your sisters who stood not too far away.

“They do, your Majesty.” Your mother replied proudly.

“May I add that they are also very beautiful. Just like their mother.” Ragnar added with a kiss to your mother’s hand. 

Queen Aslaug smiled at his words before sipping her wine. She had become accustomed to his flirtatious ways and knew he wasn’t changing anytime soon. Turning his attention back to your father, King Ragnar nodded thoughtfully. 

“Despite this revelation my friend, I still want to see your wife join us whenever possible. After all, I am a man who appreciates having beauty and intellect nearby.” 

“Of course.” Your father replied with a laugh.

As you stood beside your sisters, they kept giggling about the things they had heard about the Ragnarassons.

“I hear that all of them are handsome.” Sheena said in the lowest voice she could muster. “And also, very unattached.”

“You mean all of them are available for courtship?” A stunned Aaliya asked as she fixed one of her rings. “That is fortunate for us.”

“How so?” You asked out of curiosity. Though they were talking about a subject you didn’t care for, you were trying your best to seem interested. “For all you know, these Princes could be horrible or vapid people. What if-----”

“Must you always ask the most inane of questions, Y/N? They are handsome Princes who are said to be great warriors. What more is there to know?” Aaliya replied, furrowing her brow.

Since both of them didn’t like your opinion, you decided to go silent again. Bored, you began fidgeting with your bracelets as you waited to formally greet the King and Queen. Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you.

“Sheena?” Ivar exclaimed.

His voice sounded like he was both pleased and confused at finding you in his presence. Certainly after your run-in earlier, it was unusual to once again cross paths.

“Sheena.” Ivar repeated as he drew closer.

Upon hearing the beautifully accented voice, your sisters turned to look at the handsome Prince. They immediately became excited at laying eyes on one of the Ragnarssons. It was easy to see that he was Royalty from his mere presence. Truly, the dark-haired Prince possessed a magnetism that exceeded even that of his father.

“Greetings, your Highness.” A flirtatious Sheena replied, giving Ivar her hand. “Not that I mind, my Prince, but how do you know my name already?”

Apprehensively, Ivar kissed the back of your sister’s hand despite his confusion. Eventually, however, his attention fell on you again. Instantly, your eyes went to the floor, unable to take the weight of his stare.

“I have my ways, my Lady.” He finally replied to Sheena’s query as he gave her his full attention. Then, glancing at your other sister, he gave a polite smile. “Forgive me. My servants were not able to find out all of your names ahead of this evening. Can you do me the honor of presenting yourself, pretty one?”

“No need to apologize, my Prince. I am Aaliya.”

When Prince Ivar kissed her hand, your sister giggled - obviously enthralled by his looks.

“Aaliya and Sheena.” He repeated with a pleased expression. “Well, I am Prince Ivar.  As for my brothers, I am certain that they will be here shortly.” Unexpectedly, he paused. “And who is this standing beside you?” He asked, pointing to you in a dismissive manner. “A servant?”

Though you tried, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes at the question.

“Servant?” You thought to yourself. “How many servants does he know that dress like this?”

As your sisters looked on, Prince Ivar took your hand. However, as he was lifting it to his lips, he stopped.

“Oh, I just remembered. I have not been feeling well these past few days.” He said. “Kissing your hand would not be wise. Sickness and all that.”

With those words, the Prince dropped your hand quicker than one would drop heated coal. Your sisters stifled laughter as Ivar turned his attention to them once again.

“Ladies, would you like a tour of Kattegat? Perhaps tomorrow, if I have the time.”

“Oh, yes!” Aaliya replied straightaway. She then looked to Sheena for approval as always. “Right, sister?”

“Of course! After all, who better to show us around than a Ragnarsson.” Sheena concurred. “Especially such a kind and handsome one.” 

“Then it is settled. I shall show you beautiful ladies around my homeland.” Pausing, Ivar eyed you suddenly. “Oh, pardon. I suppose you can join us if you are able to......um............uh....that is funny. I forgot to get your name.”

Clenching your teeth briefly, you looked at the annoying Prince. 

“It is, Y/N. Your highness.”

“Y/N?” Ivar repeated with a feigned look of surprise. “I would have never taken you for an Y/N. Another name perhaps. But I digress.” Turning to your sisters, he adjusted his crutch. “Sheena, Aaliyah, I would be honored if the two of you sat beside me tonight.”

Totally oblivious to the tension between you and the Prince, your sisters were thrilled by his invitation. As they were flirting with him, the woman you saw earlier that day arrived. 

“Freydis. There you are. Late as always.” Ivar said with some annoyance. “Do remember that you are a Thrall, even if you are a well dressed one.”

“Yes, my Prince.” She replied with a worried expression. “Please accept my apologies.”

“Tonight, you can sit anywhere you wish. I am entertaining the new Emissary’s daughters.” A pleased Ivar said as he looked at your sisters again. “Do not be rude, Fredyis. Introduce yourself.”

Apprehensively, the Thrall stepped forward and formally introduced herself to you and your sisters. Despite her better treatment, it seemed that she was just as awkward as any other servant.

“Freydis is a pretty name.” You complimented in an attempt to break the silence. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Ivar replied with a sarcastic grin. “Perhaps she can lend it to you.”

Your sisters laughed, despite not knowing why he had even made the remark. If there was one thing the Prince had proven thus far, it was that he didn’t let things go easily.

Despite his snide remarks, you were truly intrigued by Freydis. You wondered how someone who carried themselves with such grace came to be enslaved. Surely she had been born into a household of means before everything came to this.

“Would you mind sitting beside me tonight, Freydis?” You asked, much to Ivar’s dismay. 

Though he eyed you as he guided your sisters toward the massive dining table, he said nothing. He wondered what you were thinking asking his Thrall to join you for the evening. However, he figured he would find out eventually. After all, he could just interrogate Freydis later on.

________________________

As you nibbled on some baked flatbread, the first course was served. The smell of sauteed lamb meat and roasted goat wafted in the air. Accompanying the meats were side dishes of couscous and other grains and vegetables. Truly, King Ragnar was going out of his way to make the welcoming feast a lavish one.

As you put another piece of bread in your mouth you heard the cackling laughter of your sisters. Were they ever enamored by everything that came from Prince Ivar and his elder brother, Hvitserk. 

Needless to say, your sisters were making the most of their chance to flirt with the Princes. As for you, you had carried on a brief conversation with Prince Bjorn. 

Though he seemed very stern, he did share tales of his travels with you. In fact, he seemed surprised that you had brought up the topic. But after learning from King Ragnar that he was the adventurer of the family, you couldn’t resist.

“So tell me, Hira, what is it like to be surrounded by women? I see that you have no sons but plentiful in the fairer sex.” Raganar said before taking a swig of ale.

Your father laughed at the question. If the King only knew how much your parents often wished you weren’t so high spirited and more like your sisters. In fact, your mother said you reminded them of her elder brother Soris. He was a fierce warrior and one of the generals in the Kushite Emperor’s armies.

“I will tell you something quite strange. After Y/N arrived, we realized that the Gods have a sense of humor. Though they did not give us a son, she is more than a hand full.” Your father said proudly. “There is nothing that I could teach a son that I cannot teach her or any of my girls. Give or take a few things. Of course.”

Everyone at the table laughed, except Prince Ivar. Instead, he eyed you strangely as he brought his horn to his lips. Not wanting to entertain his stupidity, you turned your attention to Freydis.

“If I am not prying, may I ask where you are originally from?”

“Of course, my Lady.” She said, almost as if she was afraid of offending you. “My father is Lendr Madr Ulfrik (Land Baron). He......”

“Freydis!” Ivar seethed from across the table. “No one cares who your father is. If he was a man of any worth, you would not be here. Would you?”

She clammed up straightaway. However, you weren’t going to allow him to dictate your conversations for the night. 

“Interesting. I could have sworn I was speaking to Freydis and not the rat sat across from me.” You said sarcastically.

Sigurd, Ubbe and Hvitserk all chuckled whilst Bjorn held in smirk. No one outside the family had ever spoken roughly to Ivar. Especially someone who had barely made his acquaintance. Had you been old friends, they may have not been so surprised but you had just met. 

And you obviously didn’t know just how petty their brother could get.

“Ivar, please allow our guest to have conversation in peace.” Ubbe chimed in. “After all, there is no harm in it.”

Grinding his teeth until you could see his jaw tense, Ivar glared at you. Then, out of nowhere, he softened his expression.

“Of course.” He replied. “I shall allow our spirited guest to converse with my Thrall.”

Ivar’s eyes cut to yours. However, you didn’t flinch. Instead, you gave him a look of annoyance before turning your attention back to Freydis. Obviously, she was tense after watching the exchange. The last thing she wanted was to be the cause of an argument between her betters.

“Do not worry.” You assured her. “I wish to know about you despite his interruption. Please, do go on.”

_________________________

After the meal, King Ragnar, Queen Aslaug and your parents settled into the Gaming Hall. Some other Vikings had arrived to join them. One of them being an odd man introduced as the closest friend of the King. After greeting everyone, including, Rollo, the boisterous Uncle of the Ragnarssons, you went to courtyard with Freydis.

As you walked along, you could sense that the Thrall was quite nervous. Perhaps she was afraid of what Prince Ivar would do once you left.

“Listen, do not fret. I will apologize so that he leaves you be.”

Though she thanked you, Freydis confessed that the Prince was not so easy to placate as you assumed. 

“Let me worry about that idiot. Besides, your background is what interests me. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were no ordinary slave.”

“Really?” Freydis asked with a glint of a smile. 

“It was very easy to see that you are highborn.” You replied as the two of you finally sat on a bench. “I know it must not be easy going from that, to this. You must also miss home very much.”

“I do.”

“Are your parents are still alive?”

“They are. Though my mother has not been well as of late.” Freydis admitted. “I just pray that my father can pay off the debt sooner than later.”

‘So it is a debt and not captivity that brought you here.”

“Yes. But my father and Uncle are working hard to pay it down.” 

“But Prince Ivar can gift you freedom if he wanted. Right?”

Freydis knew there was no hope that he would ever do such a thing. As his “lover” and slave, Ivar had no intentions of letting her go any time soon. Thus, she changed the topic to that of your clothing, complimenting the intricate threading and embellishments.

“And I love your bracelets. They must have taken forever to craft.” She added.

“Thank you very much. Though I like your silver cuff myself.” You replied with a laugh. “Isn’t that always the case? We often like what we do not have.”

Freydis finally gave you a laugh, finally at ease in your presence. Being a Thrall was nerve-wracking. Especially since a Master could blow hot or cold on any given day. 

“Your brother, whom is he in service to?” You asked as a warm breeze blew over the two of you.

“Oh, though he is under service to King Ragnar like myself, he works at the shipbuilders. Master Floki’s in particular.”

“Really?” You replied with interest. “You mean that nice man I just met? I think he is the friendliest Viking I have come across.”

“He is. Master Floki treats my brother quite well. And what’s more, he allows us to spend time together when Iric’s workload is light.”

“That is kind of him.”

You wondered if you could get closer to Shipbuilder Floki. After all, if anyone could share your interests of traveling the seas, it was him. And of course, Prince Bjorn. Despite his stern demeanor, you could tell that the eldest Ragnarsson didn’t mind your questions. 

“Well, look what we have here. My woman and my house guest.” Ivar said as he made his way over. Right behind him was Prince Ubbe, Hvitserk and your sisters. “Enjoying yourself, Y/N?”

“I was.” You replied. 

You didn’t know why but everything about the Prince irritated you. Not that you had a good first impression of him in the first place. After all, he was beating peasant in broad daylight.

Unfazed, Ivar actually chuckled as he motioned to your sisters.

“Sheena has invited us to dine with your family tomorrow evening.” He announced. “I am looking forward to seeing how hospitable you are in your own environment. Perhaps you make a better host than you do a guest.”

You wanted to slap the smug look off the Prince’s face. How dare he try to act as if he was well-mannered when he obviously enjoyed lording over people. 

“Well, that is nice to hear.” You replied.

As everyone chatted, a tired Prince Hvitserk decided to take a seat beside you. He was fascinated by your family and had questions about your Gods. However he figured he would get to know you better before he began throwing random religious questions your way.

“So, Y/N, tell me how was the journey?”

“Unbelievably long.” You said with a laugh. “However, I found it quite enjoyable. I even kept meticulous record all of my observations. Especially when we stopped at the various ports. You would not believe some of the amazing stories I have written down.”

“That sounds interesting. Perhaps you can share them with me when you have time.” He replied with the most adorable smile you had ever seen. “If you want to, of course.”

“Of course. And in exchange, you can take me along whenever you visit Master Floki. I would love to see him work.”

“Really? You are interested in shipbuilding?”

“Very much.” You said as your eyes perked up. “I must learn the basics since I hope to travel the world one day.”

Bjorn, who had been standing nearby and listening, smiled. 

“Is that so?” He asked. 

When you looked at him, you could tell that the eldest Ragnarsson was impressed. It wasn’t often that women, let alone foreign ones expressed an interest in sailing the seas. Bjorn finally took a seat. Before long, you, Hvitserk, Freydis and he were lost in talk of exploration. While the four of you were happily chatting, a brooding Ivar watched.

Though he was supposed to be in conversation with your sisters, Sigurd and Ubbe, he wasn’t paying them any mind. Instead, he stared at you, wondering why you were such a rude person. In fact, he found you quite annoying and standoffish. 

The thing that was bothering Ivar the most however, wasn’t all the rude exchanges between the two of you. It was the fact that you were being so nice to everyone else.  

_______________________________

In the carriage on the way home, Sheena was fast asleep with her head laid against your shoulder. Aaliya however, was wide awake and telling your parents of the invitation they had extended to the Ragnarssons.

“I think that is a wonderful idea.” Your mother said before a yawn escaped her mouth. 

“What shall we serve them? Something from father’s lands or yours?” Your sister asked, very keen on making a good impression on the handsome Princes.

“Why not both?” You chinned in. “After all, they are coming to experience our family. We cannot leave either culture out.”

Your father smiled at your suggestion. Despite being quiet the entire ride, he was always a great listener 

“Your sister speaks sense.” Your mother said with a thoughtful nod. She then leaned against your father, quite tired from the long day. “I will give orders to the kitchens to prepare the best delicacies from both our lands.”

Aaliya looked pleased at your mom’s confirmation and she even thanked you for the suggestion. Thankfully, preparing the dishes wouldn’t be a difficult task since you had been accompanied by your own trusted servants. 

Though King Ragnar had also assigned a good number of Thralls to your estate, it was good to know that you had knowledgeable people at your service.

“Did you girls make friends tonight?” Your father asked unexpectedly a he wrapped an arm around your mother. “Perhaps I should be preparing to give your dowries soon.”

“Oh father?” You said with a look of disdain. “We have barely met them.”

“But do you not believe in love at first sight? After all, that is how I felt when I met your mother. Though, it took her much longer to feel the same.” 

“Well, I find them very likable, father.” Aaliya said with a great deal of excitement. How she still had so much energy late at night, you would never know. “I like them all. Especially the one called Hvitserk. Though he is very quiet, he seems very nice.”

Your father’s brow went up slightly, amused at your sister’s choice of words. He knew what she really wanted to say was that she found him handsome, but was being coy.

“And what of you, Ducky? Anyone caught your eye?”

You immediately laughed at your father’s question, causing both your parents to smile, despite themselves. 

“Oh come now, Y/N. You had to find at least on of them interesting.” Your mother said, raising her head slightly. “What of the tall and strong one? She asked before glancing at your father. “What was his name again, love?”

“That would be Prince Bjorn.” He replied.

“Yes, that’s the one. He’s so tall and handsome. And he seems to have himself together, being the eldest and all. He could make a good husband.”

“Mother!” You sighed. “Stop rushing me into matrimony. You know how I detest the idea.”

Your mother wanted to say more, but she decided to allow you to have the last word. As usual, she wasn’t surprised by your response. It was exactly how you reacted to the subject of marriage every time. It was cute when your were a child but not so much now that you were a woman. 

But every time she brought up the subject of courting or marriage, you voiced your disdain. As for your father,he had no issue with your stance. He was a very unconventional man and didn’t force any of you to do things against your will. Marriage included.

“Do you hear you daughter?” Your mother asked. “At this rate, you will have to take care of her forever.”

“That is fine by me. After all, what is the point of us working so hard if our daughters cannot live life as they see fit.”

You smiled, knowing that your father would always support whatever you and your sister chose to do in life. 

______________________

As you sat patiently, the servants took their time preparing your hair for the night. You were quite sleepy but still excited from the evenings festivities. You hoped that Prince Ivar would allow Freydis to meet you as planned. Since he was taking your sisters around Kattegat, you decided against joining them. 

You found the dark-haired Prince too irritating to spend an entire day with. Besides, the Ragnarssons were coming to eat at your estate anyway. So there was no need to torture yourself more than you had to.

“Lady, Y/N, we are done. Do you require anything else of us?”

“No. That will be all for tonight, thank you.”

After collecting your dirty clothes, the two servants bid you goodnight. Standing from the chair, you stretched. When you finally got underneath the furs, you realized that you were much sleepier than you had thought. Laying on your side, you closed your eyes and went over the days events. 

“I cannot wait for morning.” You thought to yourself.

Despite everything, you felt great about the move. And though you missed your friends in Kushan, you knew you could keep them updated about your adventures.

___________________

The next morning, you woke up earlier than anyone else, with the exception of your father. He had to attend talks with King Ragnar so for that reason, was already eating first meal.

“Good morning, father.” You said as you sauntered into the Dining Hall. 

Your father's eyes danced with amusement as he watched you take a seat across from him. 

“Please join me.” He said, pointing at the spread on the table. “It is quite dull to eat alone.

“That is true.” Your replied, as you set down your leather journal.

Eyeing it with curiosity, your father asked why you were carrying your writing so early in the morning.

“I was just marking the best passages. Prince Hvitserk wishes to hear of my travels.”

“Does he? That is interesting.”

You could tell that he was insinuating that perhaps there was something romantic in the air.

“It is purely friendly in nature. Do not worry, father. If anyone ever captures my thoughts, you will be the first to know.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.” Your father said before putting some  Parotta bread on your plate. “After all, I am quite tired of your mother being more informed that me.” 

You laughed before complimenting your father’s brocade silk Sherwani. He looked so handsome in beige and gold. And for the first time in a while, he had his long hair in a single braid. 

“Has mother seen you yet?” 

“No. She was still asleep as I got ready.” Your father replied. “Why?”

“I think she would truly like your choice of clothing today.”

With a nod, your father laughed at your assertion. Your mother had sophisticated tastes so naturally, she made all of the decisions when it came to fabrics and jewelry. Though your father preferred black and grey tones, he had recently given it to your mother's demands.

Eyeing you as you poured fresh cow’s milk into your chalice, your father commanded you to eat. 

“I will.” You replied, hoping your little trick would work. As you stirred honey into your milk, you looked at your father again. “May I accompany you?”

“To my meetings? Why?”

“Because, I have nothing planned until the afternoon. Besides, you have always said that you wished we were as interested in your work as we are with mothers.”

“Is that so.” Your father asked with a smirk. 

It was true. He wanted you and your sisters to be interested in Diplomatic Affairs. But thus far, you were far more interested in languages due to your mothers work as the Royal Interpreter. 

“Have you been to the shrine already?” He asked.

“Yes. After I dressed, it was the first thing I did. I am not Aaliya who must be reminded to make her offerings.”

“Alright. Eat some food while I think it over.”

As the two of you were busily chatting, a groggy Sheena entered. She was still in her nightdress and had a cotton kaftan over it. Almost as if it was taking a great deal of effort to even speak, she asked a Thrall to fetch her porridge.

“Come.” Your father commanded, motioning your sister with his hand. He seemed a little concerned by her appearance. “What is the matter?”

Always one to enjoy being coddled, Sheena sat beside your father and immediately rested her head against his shoulder.

“Father, I feel so nauseated. It is as if I am still on the ocean.”

“Of course you do. I warned you not to overindulge in the Vikings mead. It is much stronger than what you are accustomed to.” He replied compassionately. “Return to your chamber and I shall have the servants bring you food and care for you there.”

With a weak smile, your sister stood and departed for her chamber.

“So, are you taking me along?” You asked.

“Yes, you may accompany me. Now stop talking and finish your food.”

______________________

Since it was just you and your father, he decided that everyone should travel on horseback. Which suited you fine, being a well-trained rider. After a Thrall helped you onto your stead, your small group made your way out of the estate walls.

“Do not straggle behind, Ducky.” Your father said over his shoulder. “I know how you enjoy scenery but we must not arrive late.”

Riding up to him, you kept your horse in pace with his as the six guards rode in formation around you. Though it was very early in the morning, there were already peasants making their way to their places of work. As they spotted your small convoy, many stared, always amazed by regally dressed people.

It was something you had become accustomed to but still made you feel odd. Sometimes, it was difficult to enjoy your wealth knowing that others had so little.

“Are you still looking forward to my meetings?”

“Of course, father.” You replied. “You never know, I might follow your path and become a dignitary.”

“If you chose to do so, I would not oppose it.” Your father confessed. “However, I know that your heart is telling you to see the world.”

“But you get to see the world in your line of work.”

“Certainly, being an Emissary requires one to visit foreign lands. But I do not travel often. And since you have a restless spirit, yo’u will grow bored of it quickly.”

Your reflected on your fathers words, knowing he was correct. Being in once place for long didn’t seem exciting enough for you. 

“So what do you think I should do?” You asked.

Ducky, you must do what will make you happy.” Your father replied honestly. Unlike most parents, he had no desire to sway your mind in any way. “If that means traveling to distant lands, so be it. After all, it is good to embrace one’s calling. Then, when you feel that your soul is settled, you may choose to do another trade or continue on. It is up to you.”

You smiled, before looking ahead at the road before you. These were the moments you truly enjoyed. Spending time with your father trying to get as much wisdom from him as you could. 

_________________________

“What is she doing here?” Ivar spat as he watched you enter with your father and his entourage. “This is a place of importance, not a dressmakers.”

Whilst your father took a seat at the large table, you found yourself a chair beside some of the lower level commanders and advisors.

“Ivar, why do you seem not to like, Y/N?” Hvitserk asked as a slight yawn caught him off guard. “She seems harmless enough. And who knows, perhaps she wishes to follow in her father’s footsteps.”

Sigurd nodded in agreement as the brothers made their way to the front row.

“Or she could be assisting him.” The curly-haired Ragnarsson added. 

Ivar scoffed. He found it utterly ridiculous that your father would allow you to attend diplomatic meetings. After all, you weren’t even your mother, who at least held an official title.

Despite his aversion towards your presence, the Prince refrained from saying anything further. Instead, he took his seat and placed his crutch beside him. Ivar had days where his affliction caused him more discomfort than normal and today, was one of those days. With a grunt, he settled into the chair as comfortably as he could.

“Are you alright?” Sigurd asked, much to his little brother’s surprise.

“I’m fine.”

Satisfied with Ivar’s reply, the Ragnarssons turned their attention to King Ragnar who was stood in the front of the War Room. 

______________________

The meeting went on for over two hours, however, it was very productive and ended well. Three treaties were signed and two trading agreements were put up for review by King Ragnar, King Kushan and another Viking ruler.

Naturally, it was up to your father to review and advise his Monarch about the contracts, however, he was an expert in such negotiations.

Since the leaders and their advisors remained to speak off record, you decided to depart with everyone else. As you were exiting, Bjorn caught up with you, much to Ivar’s irritation.

“Y/N, it is such a surprise to see you attend today.” The tall and handsome Ragnarsson said. “Do you not find things like this a chore?”

“Not at all. In fact, I found it quite intriguing.”

Bjorn gave you the faintest of smiles. He found you intriguing, though he would never say it aloud. It was not every day that he met someone better traveled than himself. As you walked on, Sigurd and Ubbe caught up with the two of you. And soon, the conversation turned to their last raid.

“There is nothing like seeing the shores of new land.” Ubbe said with deep reflection. “It is indescribable.”

“True.” Bjorn replied. “There is also nothing like the spoils gained from a raid.”

“If you knew how to wield a sword, we would take you along.” Ubbe remarked. 

“Who said I don’t? Do you assume that only Heathen women are allowed to learn the art of war?”

Stunned, Ubbe asked if you truly knew how to fight. When you stated that you were not only proficient in archery but wielded the Haladie and Talwar, they were impressed. Sigurd was the one to finally ask you to describe the weapons you mentioned. They had never heard of them before, however Bjorn and Ubbe were too stubborn to admit as much.

“Well, the Haladie is a double-edged blade that is held in the center. You can decapitate a man with enough force. So it is quite deadly as you can imagine. And the Talwar is basically a curved sword.”

Very intrigued by your reply, Ubbe invited you to join them at their private training grounds.

“Oh, that would be wonderful. May I invite my sisters?”

“Are they trained as well?” Bjorn asked with great curiosity.

“Trained? Try deadly.” You said with a laugh. “Especially Sheena. She may be exceptionally pretty but father calls her a cobra.”

“A cobra?” Sigurd asked. “What is that?”

“The deadliest snake known to man” You replied. And do not ever let Sheena hear you call her one.

The brothers laughed, enamored by your presence. They found you delightful and intelligent. As for Prince Ivar, who was a few paces behind with Prince Hvitserk, he could barely keep from rolling his eyes.

As you were passing some men with marked faces, Prince Bjorn excused himself. As he went to speak with them, Prince Ubbe also followed.

It was then that Prince Ivar and Hvitserk caught up with you. Being the friendly type, the flaxen-haired Ragnarsson greeted you straightway. 

“Greeting, your Highness.” You replied. “How goes your day?”

“Very well. Thank you for asking. I hear Ivar is giving you and your sisters a tour of Kattegat.”

“Actually, he is giving my sisters a tour. I have other plans.”

Upon hearing your reply, Prince Ivar cut his eyes in your direction. He didn’t understand you. You had mentioned wanting to see more of your new home the previous evening. Now, you were opting out of doing so.

“Really? What kind of plans?” Ivar asked.

“Nothing special. I was just thinking of going to the docks for some time. You know, to explore on my own.”

“That is not wise, Y/N.” Sigurd replied, folding his arms over his chest. “Though it is relatively safe in Kattegat, there are still undesirables. If you do not mind, I would like to escort you.”

Though you intended to take guards along, you liked the idea of having real company. So, you accepted Prince Sigurd’s offer. Having nothing planned, Hvitserk stated that he would also join you. 

As the three of you chatted, Ivar held his tongue. And since he was capable of losing his temper quickly, it was for the best.

________________________

“Are you sure?” Freydis asked you handed her your black and silver shawl. 

“Of course. You are the one that is cold are you not?” 

She thanked you as she wrapped it around her shoulders. As Prince Hvitserk and Sigurd helped the two of you down a steep incline, the guards fell back a few paces.

“I hope Prince Ivar will not be angry.” A worried Freydis said as the four of you sat down on the sand. “Though I finished my chores, I did not get his expressed permission to come.”

“Do not worry.” Hvitserk replied. “I will let him know that I gave the command for you to accompany us.”

His reply seemed to ease her mind. It was quite obvious that the Thrall was very afraid of angering the young Ragnarsson. And after what you had seen of him thus far, you were not surprised. 

“Prince Ivar seems like quite the character.” You said. “Is he always so confrontational.”

Recalling that you had witnessed his brother’s violent ways on that chance encounter, Hvitserk shrugged. He explained that though he understood his brother, there were times he wished he could control his emotions better.

“But believe me, when you get to know him better, he will be easier to get along with.

“I hope so.” You replied. “I am very unaccustomed to such temperament.”

“I have told him on many occasions that there are better ways of expressing his anger.” Sigurd said in agreement. “But rest assured, unlike my little brother, we are levelheaded. You never have to worry about us making you uncomfortable.”

Whilst you, Freydis and Hvitserk relaxed, Sigurd asked one of the Thralls to hand him his Psaltery (similar to a Lute). As he played the beautiful music he had written himself, you gazed at the crashing waves. 

Did you indeed have the tenacity to pursue your dreams as your father had advised? Only time would tell.

________________________

“For the love of Odin, try to be nice tonight.” Hvitserk said, glancing at his little brother.”You have been acting strange all day. But please, whatever it is, leave it at the door.”

Fixing his crutch, Prince Ivar glared at his brothers. If they thought their incessant nagging was going to keep him from being himself, they were sadly mistaken.

“Will you leave me alone already? I heard enough at home and on the journey here.” Ivar hissed through clenched teeth. “One more word and I'll turn over the dining table just to spite you all.”

Ivar was always moody, but he was worse that evening due to you taking Freydis to your home. He couldn’t believe you had done such a thing without his permission. But despite her being his companion, Freydis still belonged to King Ragnar. Thus, any of the Princes could give her orders.

And since you had asked to spend time with the shy Thrall, Prince Hvtiserk had gladly allowed it.

“I will say this only once. Next time, do not make decisions about Freydis without my knowledge.” Ivar said to his brothers before he walked toward the entrance of your estate.

_______________________

“It is wonderful to have you Princes here for evening meal.” Your mother said with a smile. 

Looking regal in her three-piece purple Ghagra Choli, she glanced around the table.

“Lady Zhara, where is Y/N?” Bjorn asked. “Is she not joining us tonight?”

Ivar wondered why his elder brother would ask about you. Especially since he hardly ever spoke, let alone got close to anyone.

“She will be here shortly, your Highness.” Your mother replied. “She and Freydis wanted to freshen up before joining us.”

Ivar couldn’t help scoffing at the notion. A Thrall, freshening up? It was absurd. Freydis was supposed to take orders, not go about enjoying her free-time with you. She had duties. 

Most of which involved caring for Ivar and being his companion. And so, the Prince made up his mind to warn you about your budding friendship with Freydis after mealtime.

It wasn’t long before you finally made your entrance with Ivar’s Thrall right behind you.

“Oh Freydis, you look lovely.” Sheena exclaimed as the two of you sat down.

Shyly, she thanked your sister. You had given the Thrall one of your Sari’s to wear since she didn’t get a chance to go home and change. And were you ever proud of yourself. She looked splendid in your yellow outfit if you didn’t say so yourself. 

“Well, now that everyone is present, we can eat.” Your father said, motioning to the servants to start bringing the courses. 

As the servants busied themselves doing as ordered, you found yourself locking eyes accidentally with Prince Bjorn. Smiling awkwardly at him, you acknowledged the moment before looking away. 

“How was your day around Kattegat?” You asked your sisters, trying to start a pleasant conversation.

“You really missed allot, Y/N.” Sheena said with her eyes wide with excitement. “Prince Ivar took us for a ride on his chariot. Not only that, he even let me take the reigns for some time. It was amazing.”

“He also showed us a great deal of the countryside.” Aaliya added. “Afterward, we accompanied him to call on one of the visiting Kings.”

“Really?” Your mother asked with curiosity. “Whom?”

“King Harald.” Ivar replied. “He and is brother are great allies of my father. I believe, your husband met them this morning, if I am not mistaken.”

“I did. They are both very fine men.”

“I will have you know, Lady Zahra, that the King was impressed with your daughters.” Ivar added. “After all, it is not every day one meets women who are not only well-educated but extremely beautiful. But I see where Sheena and Aaliya get it from.”

Your mother smiled. From what you gathered, she was falling for the charm that the youngest Ragnarsson was displaying. Not that he was lying when he stated that your mother and sisters were beautiful. But anything kind from Ivar was just strange. 

“It sounds like you all had an interesting day.” You chimed in. “Freydis and I had a great time as well. We first went to the shore with Prince Hvitserk and Sigurd before seeing a play.”

“Perhaps I can join you next time.” Aaliya said, looking directly at Hvitserk. 

With a very agreeable expression, the flaxen-haired Ragnarsson nodded. The two of them gazed at each a long while causing your mother and father to exchange glances. It was obvious that there was a growing mutual attraction between the two of them.

_________________________

After evening meal, your father instructed some Thralls to take drinks and sweet delicacies to the Sitting Room. While the Ragnarssons and Freydis were being served, your family went to the Puja (shrine). 

After saying your mantras and giving offerings of water, fruit, flowers and incense, your parents allowed you and your sisters to join the Princes.

As for the two of them, they turned in early. Your father had found out last minute that they were to accompany King Ragnar to a nearby Kingdom. When you and your sisters entered the Sitting Room, Ivar was conversing with Freydis whilst the others were laughing and telling tall tales.

“He has to be lying. There is no way a long-sword like his could take a man’s head off with one blow.” Bjorn said. “I do not believe that for a moment.”

“But that is the what Thorolf has been saying since the last raid.” Hvitserk replied with a laugh. Standing, he began to speak in a boastful tone, mimicking the man. “So there I was, with two men coming at me. I tightened my hand upon my weapon and prayed that my aim was true. And after gutting the first, I took the other’s head. Clean and in one blow.”

The brothers laughed and pounded their chalices of ale on the table. 

“The only thing he took in one blow was strong drink.” Ubbe remarked before asking for more ale.

“Speaking of fighting, did you know that Y/N and her sisters are trained in swordsmanship?” Sigurd announced.

Hvitserk made sure to mention that they had invited you to come to the training grounds. As expected, your sisters asked if they could also attend.

“Of course. I asked Prince Hvitserk and Sigurd already, and they said yes.”

“This is wonderful.” Sheena said as she took a seat beside Ubbe. “It has been weeks since we last practiced. Still, I doubt either of you could beat me.”

You and Aaliya glanced at one another, ready to accept her challenge. True, Sheena was the best fighter, but you still had decent skills.

“How about a wager?” Bjorn suggested thoughtfully. “The three of you will do a tournament of sorts and the winner receives a reward.”

“What kind of reward?” Aaliya asked, intrigued at the thought of receiving a gift.

“Let us make it interesting.” Sigurd interjected as he relaxed in his seat. After pondering a while, he snapped his fingers. “The winner gets to decide what they want. It can be anything.”

“Anything?” You asked.

 “Certainly. But it must be withing reason.” Ubbe replied with a laugh. “It cannot be absurd. Like, ‘I wish to take over King Ragnar’s throne’ or something along those lines.”

“Then it is agreed.” Sheena said. “May the best woman be the victor.”

“Do not worry. I will be.” A self-assured Aaliya replied. 

Ivar observed you as you chatted with your sisters. Though you had been at odds, he thought looked rather beautiful that evening. From your kohl-lined eyes, to the striking manner in which your warm-brown skin looked against your cobalt blue Sari, he found himself mesmerized.

“Y/N, do you not believe in yourself as much as your sisters do?” Ivar suddenly asked. “You have said nothing despite all their assertions.” 

Giving him your attention, you shrugged.

“It is not that I do not believe in myself, my Prince.” You said. “To be honest, I am just heeding my father’s advice. He says that, ‘One who boasts must take care, lest they eat their own words’.”

The Ragnarssons burst into laughter as they accused each other of being a guilty of such behavior. Ivar however, refused to accept that he had ever swallowed his pride.

“Never?” Sheena asked. “That is almost hard to believe since everyone makes a mistake every now and then.”

“Oh, not precious Prince Ivar.” Sigurd replied. “Let him tell it, he is damn near perfect. A God amongst men.”

“Shut up, Siggy.” Ivar said with disdain. It was plain to see that he didn’t take kindly to jesting as the others. “I cannot help it if the Gods favor me.”

“Here we go.” An intoxicated Hvitserk whispered to you and Aaliya. “These two are like water and oil.”

“Look, Ivar, I am not afraid of you nor your rage.” Sigurd replied before he stood. He then walked to the table with the various sweets and began serving himself some Gulkand Rabri (milk pudding sweetened with honey and roses). “You forget that no one has to coddle you like mother does. The reason you get so angry with me is because I am the only person who tells you the truth.”

“Is that right?” Ivar said sarcastically. Despite Freydis putting her hand on his shoulder in an effort to calm him, the young Prince continued. “And what truth is that?”

“That you enjoy making everyone miserable just because you are miserable.” Sigurd bluntly replied. “Also, you are rude and curt with everyone. But when it is pointed out, you use being a cripple as an excuse.”

“Rubbish!” Ivar replied with a strange chuckle. “You are merely jealous as I have always known.”

“Jealous of what? The fact that you everyone tenses when you are nearby? Or that people avoid you like the plague?”

“Go to Hel, Siggy!” Ivar hissed, having heard enough from his elder brother. “The last I checked, you are not even worthy of the family name. What do you do that is so great or worthy of being a Ragnarsson, hmm? Playing instruments? Don’t make me laugh. The paper you write your  songs on are not even worthy of wiping one’s arse with!”

“Prince Ivar, with all due respect, that is not a nice thing to say to your brother.” You interrupted.

Ivar’s eyes cut to you. Though he tried to hold his tongue, he couldn’t stop himself from replying out of instinct.

“And who asked for your opinion?” He snapped. “I can speak freely. After all, I am a Prince. You on the other hand, are just some girl whose father happens to hold high position. You have no sway here.”

You stared at the Prince. Not because of his comment, but because he was so comfortable uttering mean things. Everyone quieted down so much, you could hear the sound of the Thralls shifting against the walls. As for Prince Ivar, he instantly regretted everything he had said. 

He didn’t know why he always felt the need to be defensive. He just was. As he looked into your eyes, Ivar held his breath, unsure of how you were about to react.

“You are right, your Highness.” You began. “Please, accept my apology. You as well, Prince Sigurd.”

Surprised by your words of contrition, Sigurd informed you that you had nothing to apologize for. But Ivar was too proud to even respond. Instead, he took his chalice to his lips without saying anything further. 

“Let us go for a walk in the courtyard. Perhaps some fresh air will do us some good.” Ubbe suggested. 

After standing, he offered you his arm like the gentleman he was. Bjorn, Sigurd, Hvitserk and Aaliya joined you both whilst Ivar, Freydis and Sheena remained in the Sitting Hall.

_____________________

The following day, you woke up early in order to join your parents for prayers. Though you were quite tired, you bathed and got dressed whilst everyone was still asleep. By the time your parents entered the Puja (shrine), you were seated on a large cushion, awaiting them.

“Ducky.” Your father exclaimed. Taking a seat beside you on another large cushion, he wrapped his arm around you. “Should you not be resting?”

“I wanted to see you and mother off.”

Your parents seemed pleased by your efforts since they knew you didn’t get to bed early. After all, the Ragnarsson had stayed until the middle of the night. Despite Prince Ivar and you having the tense exchange, things got better afterward. Bjorn and Ubbe were great story tellers and also knew several drinking games that kept everyone entertained.

“Well, since you are awake, I suppose we can tell you about the change of plans.” Your father said. 

“What change of plans?” You asked.

Your parents exchanged glances before your father silently motioned for your mother to give the news. 

“A messenger arrived about an hour ago. King Ragnar says we shall be gone a little longer than expected.”

You didn’t like your parents being gone for long periods, though it did happen occasionally. 

“How much longer will you be away?”

“About two weeks.” Your father replied as he snuggled you closer. “It is actually a good change of plans. This way, I can get some negotiations over with sooner than expected. And, I will have free time on my hands when we return.”

“Really?”

Your father nodded. Pleased by the prospect of spending time with your parents, you embraced your father. 

“Do not worry, we shall be on our best behavior.” 

“I certainly hope so.” Your mother said as she laid out the incense. “I do not want to any bad reports from Thabisa. Now that everything is settled, let us pray.”

____________________

As you entered your chamber, you yawned and stretched. Though you were still quite sleepy, you were glad that you saw your parents off. While you were removing your cloak, a knock came upon the door.

“You may enter.”

In came Head Servant, Thabisa. She had been with your family before you and your sisters were even born. A prideful woman from Nubian lands, she held as much authority as your parents. In fact, she was treated more like a grandmother than a servant.

“Y/N, you need rest.” She said before placing down a tray with a pitcher of Haldi Ka Doodh (hot turmeric milk). 

“I know. I was planning on sleeping a while longer before starting my day.”

“Good.” Thabisa said. Holding her long and elegant neck high, she eyed you curiously. “Those Princes stayed much longer than I anticipated. I hope that when they call on you girls again, they will try to leave at a more appropriate hour.”

You stifled a laugh, knowing what she was driving at. Royalty or not, Thabisa was not keen on how liberal your father was about the rules of courting. Though he had warned all of you to never disgrace the family name, your father didn’t fear any men deflowering any of you. 

After all, he had instilled a sense of pride and high expectations in you and your sisters. 

For that reason, your father felt no need to treat you like prisoners or be overprotective.

“Do not worry, they are quite harmless.” You said as you climbed into bed. “Besides, I hardly think any of them are interested in me anyway.”

“Why do say that? After all, men do not let their feelings show straightaway. Often, they are apprehensive to make an approach until they know it will be well received.”

Pouring some of the Haldi Ka Doodh into a cup, Thabisa brought it to you. 

“Now, you just drink all of that and put the cup on the table. I----”

Both of you turned your heads toward the windows. For whatever reason, something had struck one of them. At first, you thought it had been one of the Thralls perhaps gardening by your window. However, it happened again.

It was quite clear that someone was throwing something. Confused, you handed the cup to Thabisa and got out of bed. When you got to the windows, a small stone thwacked against the middle one, yet again. 

Opening it, you crinkled your brow as you spotted none other than Prince Ivar and two servants. It was obvious his Thrall closest to the rose bushes had been the one throwing the stones. 

“What is the meaning of this?” You asked, looking at the Prince.

As usual, Ivar was the vision of smug indifference. Your rude greeting didn’t seem to deter him however.

“Good morning to you as well, Y/N.” He said as he shifted his crutch in the dirt.

You couldn’t understand why he was there, and he couldn’t understand your animosity. Fortunately, a curious Thabisa made her way to your side.

“Is this not Prince Ivar?” She whispered to you. Obviously, just as surprised as you were at his unannounced presence. "Well, don’t just stare at him, say something.”

“But I do not wish to engage him in conversation.”

“Y/N!” Thabisa replied. “First and foremost, you must give him regard because he is a Prince. And secondly, your manners are a reflection of your father.”

“But I do not like him.”

“That matters not. Remember, no matter how irritable a person is, you cannot allow them to bring you to their level.”

Prince Ivar watched you and your Thabisa speak with silent fascination. He didn’t understand the language, but he knew the conversation definitely had something to do with him. Still arguing with Thabisa in Sanskrit (ancient Indian dialect), you tried again to make your case not to engage Ivar. But as expected, the Head Servant was in no mood for your explanations. 

Relenting, you forced a smile upon your face as you looked at the Prince. 

“I beg your pardon, your Highness. I had to discuss something with my servant.”

“Is that so?” Ivar asked with a raised brow. He didn’t need to understand what the two of you were saying to know that you were still angry about the previous night. “Anyway, I suppose you are wondering why I am here.”

“I am.”

Stepping forward, Ivar made his way over to your window and leaned comfortably upon his crutch. Though he annoyed you, there was no denying that you were curious about what he came to say. 

“I was speaking to Freydis last night and she said something that made me think.” He began. “Apparently, she felt that I had been somewhat harsh with you.”

You couldn’t help making it obvious that you didn’t fully believe him. Even after knowing him for such a short time, it was apparent that harsh words came easily to Ivar.

“I took no offense, my Prince.”

“Y/N, please stop lying.” Ivar replied with a hint of amusement in his blue eyes. He ran his hand over his braided hair and let out an odd sigh before looking at you again. “I did not intend to be harsh when I defended my position. For that, I apologize.”

“It is not necessary for-----”

“Y/N, please. Let us not go in circles. Just accept my apology.” Ivar said. “Trust me, it is not common for anyone to receive one from me. Count yourself fortunate.”

Relenting, you thanked the Prince and accepted his apology as requested. Pleased by your cooperation, Ivar gave you a smile that caught you off-guard. 

“Well, I am off.” Ivar said as he turned to walk away. 

Closing the window, you were confused as to why the entire exchange had even occurred. As you got under the furs, you told Thabisa what the Prince had said.

“That was thoughtful of him.” She replied, handing you the cup of Haldi Ka Doodh again. “Maybe Prince Ivar likes you.”

“Him?” You shrieked. “That is absurd. Besides, he is taken already by Freydis in case you did not know.”

“Really?” Thabisa remarked. “If you say so.”

_______________________

A week and a half passed with no further interaction with Prince Ivar. After the day that he had come to apologize, he was nowhere to be found. Fortunately, he had at least given Freydis permission to be your companion in his absence.

The gesture actually surprised you because you knew he was not keen on you befriending his lover. The sudden absence of the young Prince remained a mystery until one day, Hvitserk mentioned that he had traveled. 

According to him, Ivar had insisted on being given the responsibility of negotiating the new tin and copper contracts. For that reason, he had sailed to a neighboring kingdom. As mean as it sounded, you were quite happy to hear of it.

It meant that your days would be free of the confrontations his presence seemed to bring. You spent most of your free-time Freydis and the Ragnarssons. Not only that, you even got to visit Master Floki several times. 

But the most interesting developments while your parents were away had to do with your sisters. In that time, Hvitserk and Aaliya become practically attached at the hip. It was obvious to everyone that the two of them had the makings of a budding romance.

And she wasn’t the only one. Bjorn and Sheena also gravitated to one another just as quickly. Perhaps it was because of your sister’s assertiveness as well as her beauty. After all, the eldest Ragnarsson hinted numerous times that he liked headstrong women. 

One afternoon at King Ragnar’s estate, you sat happily styling Freydis’ hair into a single braid. Suddenly, the servants started rushing about. Since the two of you were in the garden, their activity peaked your curiosity.

“What do you suppose is happening?” You asked, finishing the hairstyle.

“Typically, it means that one of the family members has returned from travel.” Freydis replied. “But since the King is not due back, I am certain it is Ivar.”

You nearly sighed. What a great time it had been with him gone. Only the Gods knew what type of temper he would return with after traveling. 

“I must go and greet him as he enters the estate.” Freydis announced, getting up straightaway. She then thanked you for doing her hair in the same style as your own. “Will you come along, my Lady?”

“No. I do not wish to greet Prince Ivar. I shall wait here.” You said, putting the silver comb and brush down beside you. “And please, stop calling me that. My given name is sufficient.”

“I cannot do that, Lady Y/N. If Ivar or anyone else hears me address you so casually, I would get in trouble.”

With that, Freydis gave you quick smile before she hurriedly left the courtyard.

__________________

You grew tired of waiting for your Thrall friend in the courtyard. But since she had to be help the young Ragnarsson settle back in, you decided to wait in her chamber. But for some odd reason, you eventually fell asleep.

Y/N?” Ivar said.

He walked to where you were laid upon Freydis’ simple bed. Since you remained asleep, he decided to sit beside you. The Prince found the way you slept quite humorous. You were balled in the fetal position with your long single braid rested beside as if you had been posed in that way. 

Without thinking, Ivar ran his fingers lightly over your arm, fascinated by how your golden complexion looked against his own. As he continued caressing your flesh, Freydis entered. She stopped dead her tracks as she took notice of her Master.

Having heard her footsteps, Ivar glanced in her direction.

“Where were you?” He asked, finally taking his hand from you. “I came in here because you were not in my chamber.”

“I was assisting the kitchen workers in selecting dishes for the return feast.” Freydis replied clasping her hands in front of her. “Did you require something?”

“Not particularly. Are you done?”

“No. I just came to get my shawl. We are off to market with the Head Servant.”

Ivar said nothing else as Freydis grabbed her garment and bid him goodbye. Still enchanted by your presence, the Prince watched you sleep a while longer. He eventually covered you with a fur before departing to get rest of his own.

_________________________

By evening time, you left for home escorted by Prince Bjorn and Hvitserk. Your Sheen, trying in an attempt to know the elder Ragnarsson better, had invited them over for last meal. Since the Princes had duties to attend to early in the morning, they didn’t stay long. However, they promised to visit the following afternoon.

As you slid into your warm, lavender-scented bath, Sheena threw a damp sponge, smacking you in the face. 

“Hey!” You exclaimed. “If you keep that up, I will have the servants drag your tub outdoors.”

“Try it and I shall take you with me.” She replied with a laugh - flicking water at you.

“Two nude women, fighting in the middle of the gardens.” You said, chuckling at the thought of it. “Mother would kill us both and leave nothing for the vultures.”

“Mother, I can handle. It is Thabisa who we should be scared of.”

You and Sheena burst into laughter at the thought of the Head Servant beating you both.

“Will you two stop with the cackling?” A fed up Aaliya asked as she removed the warm cloth from her eyes. “Why can I not have a relaxing bath whenever you two are present? It is like a gaggle of crows flying overhead.”

“Forgive us.” Sheena teased. “I know how important your beauty regimen is to you these days. You must look as pretty as possible for Prince Hvitserk.”

“You are one to talk.” You chimed in. As a servant poured warm sesame oil through the length of your hair, you reclined. “I know for a fact that you and Prince Bjorn like one another.” 

“You know nothing of the sort.”

“Oh yeah? You replied. “Then why are you two always together when we do things?”

“We are the chaperones.” Sheena replied. “As the two eldest, we are expected to keep watch over the rest of you.”

You and Aaliya scoffed at her ridiculous statement. The amount of time she and Bjorn spent talking had nothing to do with supervising any of you. 

As usual, the three of you spent bath time teasing each other about various things. It was a a great way to bond and gave you time to go over the days events. However, you knew that moments like this would soon come to an end. It was obvious that your sisters were ready to leave home and become wives. 

So you made a promise to yourself. You would cherish every second that the three of you spent together.

_________________

“Sleep well, you two.” Sheena said before hugging you and Aaliya. 

The three of you had finished prayers and were standing in the main hallway leading to your chambers. 

“I shall wake you both for first prayers.” She added.

“Please do not make it too early.” Aaliya insisted. “I need my rest.”

Agreeing, Sheena bid you both goodnight and went into her chamber. After giving you a hug, Aaliya wished you ‘sweet sleep’, before going to hers.

Feeling invigorated, you went to your chamber. Unlike your sisters, you hand no intention on sleeping. Instead, you headed straight to your bookshelf. After a few minutes of searching, you settled on a collection of folklore from the Mediterranean.

“This should be interesting.” You thought as you plopped onto the bed. 

Rolling onto your back, you opened the book, ready to begin reading. But just then, something hit your window. 

“No. I cannot be him.” You mused. 

Putting the book down, you jumped out of bed, eager to see if you were correct.  As you peered out into the torch-lit courtyard, there stood the devil himself. Prince Ivar. Opening a window, you gave him a peculiar expression, causing him to smirk.

“Finally.” Ivar said. “I have been trying to get your attention for a while now.”

“For your information, your Highness, I just arrived in my chamber.”

“Oh? If you do not mind me asking, what were you doing?”

“Nothing in particular. I was with my sisters.”

Ignoring your obvious attempt to be indifferent, the Prince did his best to keep the conversation going.

“I like your hair.” Ivar remarked, looking you over. “It suits you very well.”

Your hair had been cornrowed into four large braids down your back. Small gold clips had been added to the ends to accent the style. 

Unsure of why Prince Ivar was giving you a compliment, you reluctantly thanked him. You then bid him a ‘good evening’ and began closing the window.

“What are you doing?” He asked with an offended expression.

“I am going to bed. I have no desire to stand here all night, talking through my window.”

“And neither do I.” Ivar replied. “I came all this way to see you but you have yet to invite me in.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Y/N. Now please make haste. It is getting cold out here.

Reluctantly, you told Prince Ivar to meet you at the nearest passageway. Though the entrance was guarded, the men did prevent you from letting him in. 

_______________________

“These are very tasty.” Ivar said as he ate some dried passion fruit and pineapple. 

“I think you would like them better if they were fresh.” You replied. “My mother has instructed some Thralls to grow some of our native fruits. Hopefully, the seeds can flourish in Kattegat soil. ”

As Ivar reclined in the chair beside your bed, you poured his mead. You then asked why he had come. Shrugging, he stated that he had been at a nearby estate and decided to swing by.

“But why?” You asked. Taking a seat upon the bed, you looked at him with seriousness. “After all, you and I are hardly friends.”

“Is that so?” Ivar remarked. “I think allot of that has to do with you.”

“Me?” You exclaimed. Though you were opinionated, you hardly thought the animosity between the two of you was your fault. “Believe me, your Highness, I do not have the habit of going around making enemies. In fact, I prefer to get along with others.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Ivar replied with a taunting expression. “After all, you seem to have a bone of contention when it comes to me. Why is that?”

“I do not have a bone of contention.”

Prince Ivar chuckled. He could see your body tense and even your facial expression change as your answered. Though you tried, you couldn’t hide your resentment.

“It is true that you treat me with respect. Which of course is expected. However, you find it easy to befriend everyone except me. Why?”

“I..........I do not know what you mean.”

“Liar.” He teased before taking a mouthful of mead. 

Glancing at you, he again asked the same question. At first, you were going to reply in the same manner. However, you decided to just come clean. If the Prince truly wanted an answer, you would provide one.

“With all due respect, my Prince, I feel that.............you and I have nothing in common.”

“Y/N, will you please stop dancing around my question.” Ivar said. “You were about to give me a genuine answer just now. But for whatever reason, you changed your mind. I do not wish to be coddled. Just tell me why you avoid befriending me.”

“I was not going to say anything else.” You replied, not wanting to really tell him how you detested his attitude. 

The Prince may have been mean-spirited, however, he was still Royalty. And despite him requesting the truth, slighting him could lead to trouble. 

“Like i said before, your Highness. We have nothing in common.”

“That is hardly true.” Ivar replied thoughtfully. “Freydis told me that you won the tournament between you and your sisters. See, that is two thing we have in common right there. An interest in weaponry and besting our siblings.”

“Perhaps.”

He laughed at your reaction knowing he had put you on the spot. Ivar then added that both of you were also the youngest in your families. 

“See, that is yet another thing we share.” He said with a boyish smirk. “Should I go on?”

“Fine. You have made your point.” You admitted. “But it still does not explain why you came to see me. Why not spend your time with Freydis?”

“I am glad you mentioned her. What do you know of our relationships?” Ivar asked. “I would love to know.”

You explained that you knew she and her brother were his father’s Thralls because of debt. And that he had taken a liking to Freydis and made her his “lover”.

“I think the entire situation is horrid.” You added, laying on your side. “There must be a better way to resolve things. Turning highborns into slaves is just terrible. I cannot even imagine how they feel. Being away from their parents and all.”

“Perhaps their parents should have thought about that before sinking into debt.” Ivar replied as he took hold of his crutch. Standing, he walked to the bed and sat down. “Do you have the coin to pay what they owe?”

“Pardon?”

“The debt.” He repeated. “If you are so keen to see Freydis and Iric returned to their family, give me the coin.”

“How much is it?”

“Sixty five silver pennigs. I assume you have that stashed under your pillow.”

“Do not mock me!” You said with irritation. “Apparently, you think it is amusing to keep two siblings away from their family. And you have the nerve to wonder why I avoid you! I have nothing more to say.”

Instead of getting angry, the Prince laughed.

“Stop being so serious, Y/N. I was merely trying to lighten the mood.” Ivar replied. “If you get the coin, you may bring this topic up again. Until then, let us talk of other things.”

He then laid beside you much to your dismay. When you asked what he was doing, the Prince replied that he was tired after a long day. Naturally, you asked why he felt the need to lay in your bed instead of going home. 

After all, it was bad enough that you had a man in your chamber. But now, he was laying beside you.

“I do not wish to go.” He replied, wincing slightly.

“What is the matter?”

“Your chamber is getting too cold.” Ivar said. “My condition becomes worse in such temperatures.”

He then propped himself up against your numerous pillows. Reluctantly, you went to the fireplace. As you were preparing to heat the room, Ivar watched you in silence. Despite what he had told you, the Prince had not been at a nearby estate. He had purposely left home to see you. 

So, as he watched you stoke the flame, Ivar smiled to himself. The Gods had let things work out as he had hoped.

“It will take some time, but the chamber should be warmer soon.” You informed him as you walked to the bed.

Ivar stopped you before you could lay down and asked for a favor. He wanted to remove his leg braces but it required assistance. You sighed knowing he would not let you alone until you had helped. Agreeing to his request, you took your time unbuckling all the the straps. As you laid the last brace down on the floor, you were somewhat impressed. 

“Who made these for you?”

“I envisioned them myself.” Ivar said proudly. Oddly enough, he was a little taken back by your question. No one had really asked him anything about his braces. Though his brothers appreciated that they helped his mobility, even they never really inquired about them. “I worked with a Smithy to finalize the concept and then we made a few prototypes. It took some doing because it was all in secret.”

“Why is that?”

“Because, I did not want anyone to talk me out of trying.”

You found his reasoning to be interesting. Did the Prince really think his family would have doubted his idea? After placing furs over him, you finally laid down.

“I think it is ingenious.” You confessed with a yawn. “I have never seen anything like them before.”

Ivar held in a smile, appreciative of your words of praise. After all, he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“I certainly hope you do not get me in trouble.” You suddenly remarked as he rolled over to face you. “You have no idea how stern Thabisa is.”

Ivar, who was now comfortable since the chamber had become warmer, laughed. 

“Is that so?” He replied. “Do you think she would strike me?”

“I would not be surprised if she did.”

“But I am a Prince.” An amused Ivar said. 

When you stated that his title would not matter to the Head Servant, he couldn’t help laughing. The very thought Thabisa trying to attack him was more than Ivar could take. 

“Stop laughing.” You insisted, though you wanted to laugh yourself. “Having a man in one’s chamber is a serious matter. I would get the same beating after she gets done with you.”

"I will protect you.”

Unexpectedly, Ivar grabbed hold of your hand. When you asked what he was doing, he confessed that he was intrigued by the markings on your palms and hands. 

At first, he had assumed they were permanent, much like his well-earned tattoos. However, you explained to that they were temporary and done with Henna. Studying the the intricate patterns, the Prince commented that it was masterfully done. 

“Aaliya did it for me. I know how to do it as well but definitely not as good as my sisters.”You confessed. “I need way more practice.”

“So practice on me.”

You didn’t know why, but his suggestion made you giggle. As you attempted to cover your face, Ivar stopped you by holding both of your wrists. This of course, made you laugh even harder. 

It was just strange to hear Ivar of all people saying something so mundane. As for the Prince himself, he thought you looked even prettier when you laughed.

“Why are you trying to cover your face?” He asked, still holding your wrists.

“Because.........”

You couldn’t get any more words out, so instead, you tried to bury your face in the pillow.

“Y/N, you are a strange girl. Are you going to smother yourself just to prevent me from seeing you laugh?”

His question made you laugh harder. Ivar eventually let go of your wrists and and moved closer. He didn’t understand why he was so drawn to you despite your obvious disdain. 

But from the moment he had laid eyes upon you, the Prince felt something. It was like being struck by lighting. All he knew was that you were there for a reason.

______________________

The following day, you were still asleep when Sheena entered to get you for prayers. When she spotted Prince Ivar beside you, she smirked to herself. Shaking you gently, your sister tried to rouse you, however, you didn’t budge. Finally, after she shook you much harder, you sat up - disoriented and rubbing your eyes.

“Someone is keeping secrets.” Sheena whispered. “Why did you not tell me about your little visitor?”

Confused, you looked in the direction she was pointing. When you saw Prince Ivar peacefully slumbering, you finally remembered that he had spent the night.

“He looks handsome even when he is asleep.” Sheena commented. Getting to her feet, she instructed you to get up. “Aaliya is already in the Puja so please, do not take long.”

With that, your sister departed. You wanted to dive back under the furs but knew better. As you swung your legs over the side of the bed, Ivar stirred.

“What is it?” He asked drowsily. 

“I have to go for prayers.”

Just as quickly as his eyes had opened, the Prince fell asleep again. You grabbed your cotton robe, wishing you had not stayed up so late. Hopefully, you would be able to rest later on.

____________________

After prayers, you returned to bed and slept until noon. Fortunately, Thabisa had gone to market by the time you and Prince Ivar exited your chamber.

Though you asked if he would like something to eat, the Prince insisted that he had no time. There was something he had to take care of and he didn’t want to be late. And since he had to go home to get ready, he couldn’t delay his journey any longer.

You and Sheena saw him to his chariot. The entire time, you felt like hitting your sister. Honestly, she did very little to hide her amusement at the entire situation. Worst of all, she kept shoving you closer to the Prince. 

“Have a safe journey home, your Highness.” Sheena said. 

She then elbowed you in a manner that wasn’t very discreet. Stepping forward, you hesitated as you thought of something appropriate to say.

“As my sister said, have a safe journey.” 

“Thank you, Ladies.” Ivar replied.

With that, he took hold of the reigns and set off down the road. ________________________

Two days later, you were running errands in the town square with Freydis when Prince Sigurd approached. Since he and Bjorn had business with a nearby weapons merchant, they had escorted you into town.

“Find anything interesting, Y/N?”

“Oh yes, my Prince.” You replied before showing him a leather-bound journal waiting to be brought to life. “I shall purchase more once the merchant gets more stock. I shall need many for my travels.”

“Travels?” The curly-haired Ragnarsson asked with interest. “Are you planning on going somewhere?”

As the three of you walked, you explained to the Prince that you wanted to see more of the world. For that reason, you were thinking of getting a Commission to be a Royal Translator for the King of Kushan. 

“That is interesting.” Sigurd replied. “I did not expect to hear from a highborn Lady.”

“Why do you say that?”

"Come on, Y/N. People accustomed to fine living typically aren’t yearning to be on the waters. The journeys can be long and quite perilous at times.”

“True.” You admitted. “But unlike most people, I can hardly stay still knowing that there is a vast world to see.” 

“You sound allot like Prince Bjorn.” Freydis said. “He goes on the waters more than anyone.”

“She is right.” Sigurd added, agreeing with the shy Thrall. “Perhaps you could explore with him instead of going back to Kushan to get a Royal Commission.”

“Do you think your brother would really give me a position?”

“Of course. But talk to him about it sooner than later. Ship crews are put together long before the voyage.”

___________________

After spending more time the town square, you all returned to King Ragnar’s estate. Upon your arrival, you were surprised to see Prince Ivar seated by the main entrance.

“My Prince.” Freydis said, taking a seat beside him. “Why are you sitting here alone?” 

“Because!” He replied curtly.

Then, for some reason, his eyes cut to you. Noting his tense jaw and flaring his nostrils, you realized that the Prince was enraged. 

“Did something happen?” A worried Freydis inquired as she gently placed a hand on his.

Ignoring her question, Ivar grabbed hold of his crutch and stalked over. 

“Who do you think you are, Y/N?”

“What?”

You were flabbergasted. Why was Prince Ivar so livid? Your mind raced, trying to think of anything you could have done to offend him. However, you drew a blank.

“How dare you ask Ubbe and Bjorn to give Freydis her freedom?” Ivar seethed. “Did you really think I would not hear about it?”

There it was. Now, at least you knew what had gotten the Prince so enraged. It was true. As promised before the tournament, you were given the opportunity to choose your reward. 

Since Ivar had stated that he was willing to let Freydis and her brother go if you paid the debt, you had mulled things over. But of course, you didn’t have the coin. So you did the next best thing. You requested their freedom as your reward.

“You are as meddlesome as you are spoiled!” Ivar continued, stepping closer and digging his crutch into the dirt. “Now, listen and listen to me well, Y/N. Get this idea of separating Freydis from me out of your mind. Do I make myself clear?”

You wanted to shove him or at the very least, insult him. But, you couldn’t. Your father’s position was far more important than your pride. For that reason, you balled your fists tightly, allowing all your anger to flow into them.

“Forgive me, your Highness.” You replied. The sting of your held back tears were hurting your eyes, but you didn’t let any fall. “You have my word that it shall not happen again.”

Prince Bjorn, who had been handing over the horses to the stable-boys, walked over. He had overheard everything and didn’t like his little brother’s tone.

“Ivar, is this how you must speak to our guest?” He asked. “Y/N, did not do anything wrong. We held a tournament and as the winner, she made an innocent request. What is the harm in that?”

“Shut up, Bjorn.” Ivar replied. “She has absolutely no right to request such a thing. Especially if it is not through me.”

“That is not true, brother. All Thralls, regardless of what you think, are property of our father. So you see, when he returns, I shall ask if he is inclined to fulfill Y/N’s request.”

“Please, Prince Bjorn.” You interrupted. “You are very kind, but I beg that you do not. I did not know that your brother would be so opposed to my idea. For that reason, I withdraw my request.”

Prince Sigurd, who was stood beside you, folded his arms over his chest and glared at Ivar. He felt that the entire confrontation was unnecessary and that Ivar was overreacting. As usual.

Turning to you, he asked if you would like to eat with he and Bjorn before going home. However, you had lost your appetite. The only thing you wanted was to  get as far away from Ivar as humanly possible.

“If it alright with you, Prince Sigurd, could you escort me home? We can dine there if you would like.”

Agreeing straightaway, Sigurd instructed you to wait as he fetched a steed. Freydis, who was saddened by the way Ivar had treated you, rushed over. She wrapped her arms about your neck, embracing you.

“You are a true friend.” She whispered. 

You didn’t know why, but her words eased your mind. Though you had wanted to surprise Freydis with her freedom, Ivar had ruined everything. As you embraced her back, you at least knew that she wasn’t dissapointed that you had failed. 

The two of you had become extremely close and there was nothing Prince Ivar could do to change that.

______________________

The rest of the day was uneventful. Sigurd escorted you home and eventually, the other Ragnarssons arrived at the estate for evening meal. Surprisingly, Prince Ivar allowed Freydis to attend, though he did not come himself.

After mealtime, you all played Parlor games before they departed. 

In your chamber, you sat in silence as Aaliya moisturized your hair with a mixture of Bhringraj and coconut oil. 

Typically, the servants did this for you, but for some reason, your sister had volunteered. Apprehensively, as she sectioned off your thick dark locks, Aaliya cleared her throat.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

You nodded, determined to hold your peace. 

“Hvitserk told us that you and Ivar had words.” Aaliya continued. “I am very sorry if he hurt your feelings but do not feel bad. As you know, some Royals can be temperamental.”

“No, it has nothing to do with his title.” You snapped. “We have been around enough Royalty for me to know that. Ivar is a bastard and I hate him!”

Aaliya sighed. She was keen on spending more time with Prince Hvitserk. Just like Sheena, was keen to spend more time with Bjorn. However, you were still their little sister. If you were upset with Ivar, it would make being around the Ragnarssons awkward.

Though they liked the brothers, your sisters were considerate. They didn’t want to put you in any situation that would make you unhappy. Even if that meant seeing their prospective beaus less. 

As Aaliya thought of how to best advise you, Sheena finally entered. She had been signing the payment books for the estate supplies. Taking a seat on your bed, she glanced at Aaliya. The two of them silently communicated with their eyes before your elder sister decided to have a go.

“I know why you were not yourself today.” Sheena said. “Do you want to talk about it.”

“Not really.” You replied, shifting in your seat. “I will just avoid Prince Ivar as much as possible. If he is around, I will keep-------”

A stone hit your window. Curious, Sheena rushed over only to exclaim that Prince Ivar was outside. Of course, you already knew who had thrown the stone. It seemed that showing up at your chamber window had become some strange habit for the Prince.

“Ignore him!” You insisted, determined not to hear whatever he had come to say. 

However, your sisters were both far too curious. Sheena immediately opened the window, much to Ivar’s surprise. For a moment, he thought he had the wrong window, but he knew that wasn’t possible. 

“Where is Y/N?”

“Oh, she is here, my Prince.” Sheena replied with a smile. “Aaliya is just doing her hair.

You rolled your eyes. Why was your sister being nice to him? If you had it your way, you would have slammed the window so hard, it would have broken.

Prince Ivar was too peculiar and far too moody for your tastes. First, he gave signs that the two of you were starting afresh. Then, within days, he was practically ready to pounce on you.

“Tell him to go away.” You insisted.

Despite your words, Sheena ignored you.

“It is getting cold, your Highness. Meet me at the passageway entrance so I can let you in.”

With that, your elder sister closed the window and rushed to go meet Ivar.

_________________________

“I am not leaving until you talk to me.” An exasperated Ivar said as he watched you arrange jewelry on a table.

Your sisters were tired; or so they claimed; and had gone to bed, leaving the two of you alone. 

“Why are you being so unreasonable?” He asked, grabbing hold of your  nightdress as you passed by. “At least look in my direction.”

“Prince Ivar, I do not know why you came here, nor do I care.” You replied, having grown tired of his incessant pestering. “So if it alright with you, I would like to go sleep.”

“Then go ahead. I shall wait and speak with you in the morning.”

“No you will not! I want you to leave.”

“That is a lie.” He countered. “I know that you are curious as to why I am here. Especially, after what happened today.”

You pulled the fabric of your nightdress out of his grasp. 

“Please, go home Prince Ivar.” You said. “I am asking as nicely as I can.”

“No. Make me.”

“I...........”

At your wits end, you stopped mid-sentence. You were at a loss and didn’t know how to even reply anymore. It was like talking to a child. If the Prince insisted on staying in your chamber, that was fine by you.

“What are you doing?” Ivar asked as he watched you grab some furs.

“I am leaving. Good evening, your Highness.”

Before you could pass by, he grabbed hold of you. As you struggled, Ivar wrapped his arms firmly about you,pinning your arms to your side.

“Let go of me.” You demanded.

Though you struggled to get free, it was a fruitless endeavor. The Prince was absurdly strong.

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Calm down, Y/N. Please.” Ivar whispered. He then sat you on his lap and pressed his face to your cheek. “Just calm yourself.”

You remained silent as he held you still. After some time, Ivar asked why you were so angry with him.

“I am not going to play your game.” You angrily replied.

“This is no game. I just want you to stop being so upset. How can I talk to you if you are in such a mood?”

You scoffed so much you nearly laughed. The Prince was too absurd for your mind to comprehend. 

“I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

“Why are you so cross with me, hmm?” He asked again. “I am trying to apologize but you are being very difficult.”

“You have some nerve! You think you can publicly humiliate me and gain forgiveness by whispering in my ear like.........like....a snake?”

“A snake?” Ivar repeated with a chuckle. “Have I bitten you before? Or are you just hinting that you would like me to?”

“Oh, shut up!”

He laughed, which only aggravated you further. Frustrated, you went silent again for some time.

“Y/N, forgive me for what happened today.” He finally said, no longer speaking in a taunting manner. “It was wrong to yell as I did. I should have conveyed my thoughts more respectfully.”

You remained quiet. However, your continued indifference didn’t seem to bother Ivar. 

“I am tired.” You eventually said, giving up on staying silent. “I wish to lay down.”

“Alright.”

Without letting go, Ivar laid down. As he snuggled you in his arms, you tried to break free, but gain, it was hopeless. Closing your eyes, you felt his nose brush against your temple as he made himself comfortable.

“Can you please stop whatever it is you are doing.”

“What? I am only smelling your hair.”

“Well, please stop it.”

“But I cannot help myself. You smell like a garden of flowers.”

You went silent again. Ivar was perhaps the most annoying person you had ever met. But in spite of feeling this way, there was a small part of you that was starting to like him. And that bothered you greatly.

___________________

The following morning, you woke up to find Prince Ivar gone. However, you spotted something interesting. Beside you, was a red velvet satchel that was no bigger than a fist. When you opened it, inside was a leather and silver necklace. The pendant was engraved with Viking symbols so you weren’t sure what it meant.

After your bath, you were able to give the necklace to your sisters to examine. Of course, they teased you relentlessly about Ivar leaving a gift before finally giving you an answer.

“This is the Web Of Wyrd. It is also known as the Skuld’s Net.” Sheena said as she admired the jewelry. 

“What is it for?” You asked. 

Though it was beautiful, you didn’t want to wear anything if you did not know the spirit behind it.

“It is simply the Viking Matrix Of Fate.” Aaliya replied as she poured herself some fresh milk. She then handed the pitcher to you as the three of you sat eating first meal. “It represents past, present and future events in a person’s life. The Vikings believe that all timelines are connected with one another.”

“That is so sweet.” Sheena exclaimed. “Y/N, do you not see what Prince Ivar is trying to say?”

“What?”

“That the two of you have a shared destiny.”

“Me and him?” You exclaimed. It was enough to make you laugh. But when you looked at your sisters, they were quite serious. “That is ridiculous. After all, he has Freydis. This is merely a friendly gesture to make amends for yelling at me.”

“Is that so?” Aaliya said. “You are so naive. Men only give jewelry to women they are interested in pursuing romantically.”

“Do you two have ears? I said, he has a lover.” You insisted.

“Freydis is a Thrall.” Sheena replied. “Princes do not marry slaves, they bed them. But you may stay in denial if you like.”

Though you tried to change the subject, your sisters would not stop talking about Ivar. After some time, Thabisa entered the Dining Hall. Looking poised as always, she eyed each of you and asked what all the giggling was about.

“Prince Ivar gave Y/N a gift” Aaliya blurted.

“Is that so?” The Thabisa asked, walking to you. “May I see it?”

As you showed her the necklace, you could feel your cheeks and neck getting hot. 

“This is very lovely. Expensive too.” The Head Servant said, giving the necklace back. “I am sure that is why he is keen on coming over at odd hours.”

Your eyes went wide. Did she know about Ivar’s visits all this time?

“Why do you look so shocked?” A smug Thabisa asked. “Do you girls really think I do not know everything that goes on in this house? I am your parent’s eyes and ears.”

You and your sisters exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond. However, Thabisa said there was nothing to be alarmed about.

“But, are you not upset that a boy has been coming over?” You asked. 

“Why should I be?” She replied as she took a seat. “You girls are trustworthy. I know that you would never do anything to shame yourselves or your parents. Am I right?”

"Of course.” Sheena said with a nod. “It is just good to know that your trust us so much.”

“I do not only trust you girls, I trust in myself.” Thabisa said. “I know how to cut off a male member if the need should ever arise.”

The three of you burst into laughter at her matter-of-fact threat. Truly, your Head Servant was more fearsome than any Viking Prince.

__________________

The following afternoon, the ships carrying King Ragnar, Queen Aslaug and your parents returned to great reception. There were so many people that one would have thought that they had gone off to war, not a diplomatic mission.

You were the first to run to your parents, embracing them both simultaneously. 

“Mother, I have missed you.” You said as you embraced her again. 

As she looked you over, she commented that you had not been eating enough while they were away. She then kissed your cheeks before your sisters practically shoved you aside to get their turn.

Holding onto your father’s arm, you beamed at him, thrilled to have him back. He gave you a proud smile before giving his attention to an important looking Viking.

“It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Emissary Hira.”

“Please, just call me Hira. After all, we are friends now.”

The man gave a hearty laugh before the two of them shook hands. 

“Please come and visit our home any time.” Your father added.

“We shall take you up on the offer soon, my friend.” The Viking replied as he looked your family over. “Beautiful girls you have here. Perhaps I should write to my brother so he can send my nephews for a visit. They would get along splendidly, I think.”

Your smiled politely at his remark though inside your were scoffing. Your parents thanked him for the compliment however.

“Take care, Jarl Hermund.” Your father said as the man’s guards finally approached. “And be sure to give your family our warmest regards.”

While you were watching the Jarl depart, you saw Prince Ivar approaching with King Ragnar.

The charming ruler of Kattegat greeted you and your sisters before pulling your father aside for private conversation. As you stood trying your best not to draw attention to yourself, Ivar looked at you.

“Did you like the necklace?”

“Um, yes, your Highness.” You awkwardly replied. “I am wearing it right now.”

Prince Ivar gave you a reserved smile as your mother observed the two of you from a distance. 

___________________

Over the next four days, you stayed close to home. Aside from going horseback riding with your sisters and visiting the Ragnarssons at their training grounds, you chose to spend most of your time with your parents.

Since you had been spending time at home, you were surprised when King Ragnar and Queen Aslaug called on your parents one afternoon. Typically, Royal visits were announced days prior, but this was spur of the moment.

Your sisters were at Jarl Hermund’s estate since they had befriended his two daughters. Naturally, you wanted to find out what was going on so you could tell Sheena and Aaliya upon their return.

Leaving your geography books, you rushed toward the Great Hall. Though your tutor shook his head, he didn’t stop you from leaving the garden. Sneaking up to the entrance, you heard King Ragnar’s thunderous voice.

“I tell you, Bjorn adores Sheena. He is not only charmed by her beauty, but her fierce personality. Truly, he feels they are well-matched.” The King said. “And from what he says, the feeling is mutual.”

You finally found a spot where you could peer into the Hall without being seen. Your parents were seated at a table with the King and Queen partaking Palm wine. 

“This is surprising.” Your father said before glancing at your mother. “Both of our daughters gaining the attention of such fine young men. The Gods have blessed our house.”

“Indeed, they have.” Your mother concurred. “My prayers are nearly fulfilled.” 

Queen Aslaug gave her and agreeable smile. Like your mother, she was also pleased with the prospect of her children settling down.

“Then are we to assume that we shall have an answer sooner than later?” King Ragnar asked. 

“Of course. We will discuss the matter with our daughters upon their return.” Your father replied with a hearty laugh. 

“Wonderful! I pray that the Gods will see fit to make it good news all around.” The King added jovially. 

Not wanting to listen any further, for fear of getting caught, you rushed back to your tutor. From what you gathered, your sisters had been offered courting proposals. If all went well, it meant they would eventually marry. 

You felt mixed emotions. On one hand, you were happy, but on the other, you felt sad knowing they would leave home sooner than you expected.

_________________________

“Father, are you busy?” You asked, entering the Study.

Though he was reading a letter that held a Royal seal, he motioned you forward. Running a hand over his beard, your father watched as you took a seat.

“Is anything bothering you, Ducky?”

“No. Not particularly.” You replied, twirling fabric of your Pallu (the part of the Sari that hangs over the shoulder).

“In other words, there is something bothering you.”

“It is just that I have been overhearing Sheena and Aaliya talk of their proposals. I know I am not supposed to know yet, but......”

“Have you been spying again?”

You remained quiet, knowing your father would not appreciate a lie.

“Ducky, did you not think this day would come?” He asked as he relaxed in his seat. 

“I know but......I.....I did not expect things to move so quickly. I am not ready for them to go. They are not only my siblings, they are my friends.”

“I understand. You will miss having them under the same roof, if things go well.” Your father said with empathy. “Do you not think your mother and I feel the same? But we want them to be happy, understand?”

You understood perfectly fine. But it didn’t make the thought of your sisters leaving home any less painful.

“I just do not understand why they have to court so soon.” 

“I know change can be stressful.” Your father replied. “But their desire to get married is no different than what you hope to do.”

“How so?”

“You wish to travel the world, do you not?” He asked while keenly studying your expression.

“That is true. But I do not see how that is the same.”

“Both are expectations are they not?” 

As your father said this, your mother entered and sat beside you.

“Aaliya and Sheena wish to be wives. You wish to travel the world. Your father continued. “Should I deny one or the other?”

“Your father is right.” Your mother said in agreement. “Remember, I was around Sheena’s age when I left my homeland to live in Kushan. My brother, on the other hand, became a warrior. So you see, everyone should be allowed to choose their path in life.

“I suppose you are right.” You finally agreed. 

Your mother added that your feelings were totally understandable. However, your sisters would always be there for you. And their doors would always be open to you all as family.

“Since you are here, we have a little surprise for you.” Your mother said with a content expression. 

Your father then announced that you had also received a formal courtship request. Numerous thoughts rushed through your mind. Could Prince Ivar be your suitor? Perhaps you had stopped spying before he was discussed. 

As you were daydreaming, your father stated that Prince Arun, the second born son of King Kanishka, had expressed interest.

Your heart sank. Sure, Prince Arun was handsome and kind but you were dissapointed. Your stomach felt like it was churning bile as your silly thoughts of Ivar came crashing down.

“So what are your thoughts?” Your father asked, curiously observing your change of mood. “Should I be getting three wedding Kurta’s made?”

He knew instantly that you were hiding something. However, as close as the two of you were, your father knew he would find out what it was soon enough.

“We shall allow you plenty of time to think it over.” He added. “Now, go to bed, Ducky. It is getting late.”

You stood and kissed your parents goodnight. As you departed the Study, you wondered why you felt so crestfallen.

________________________

“It’s coming along nicely.” Sigurd remarked as he looked over the dagger Hvitserk had commissioned.

In your father’s homeland, it was tradition for courtship to be sealed by the presenting of a dagger from the future son-in-law. For that reason, both Prince Bjorn and Hvisterk were checking the progress of their gifts to your father.

Since you had no studies that day, you had joined them at the Smithy. It was the same one that Prince Ivar often used to craft special weapons for himself. On this particular day, he was there, busily working metal into a throwing axe. 

When he finally took notice of you, a smile crept across the young Ragnarsson’s face.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He asked. “Are you looking for a new sword?”

“Actually, I am only here to accompany Prince Sigurd. He told me that your brothers were checking on their daggers, so I decided to come along.”

Ivar’s expression changed. He and Sigurd had been on the outs for the past two weeks and things showed no signs of ceasing. It had all started with another confrontation over Ivar’s attitude. Since then, the two of them could hardly be in the same room.

“Why did you not go and see Freydis instead?” Ivar asked.

“I did, actually. But your mother had sent her to the kitchens to help with the food preparation.”

“Will you come and see her in the evening?”

“I.......I do not know.” You replied. “My sisters are seeing a play with your brothers, so I was planning to stay home.”

“And doing what?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe, I will get ahead of my studies.”

“No offense, but that sounds quite pathetic.” Ivar said with a laugh. “You should just come to our estate. We can do something after mealtime. Besides, I know it would make Freydis happy.”

Though he had a lover, the Prince seemed to enjoy your company. Which of course put you in an awkward position. For whatever reason, you found yourself liking Ivar in a romantic sense. But it was obviously quite hopeless.

“If I would not be imposing, then I suppose I will.”

“How can you impose if I extended the invitation? Ivar asked with a chuckle. 

For the briefest moment, the two of you locked eyes. Both of you at a loss for words. You looked away first, unable to take his intense stare. Luckily, Prince Sigurd approached to inform you that they were ready to leave.

“We can pass by the music shop if you want. I hear he has imported new instruments.” An excited Sigurd said, totally ignoring his little brother.

“Why would she want to that?” Ivar hissed. “You think Y/N’s idea of a good time is doing whatever you find interesting?”

“It is alright, my Prince.” Your said in an attempt to keep them from arguing. “I do enjoy going to the music shop. After all, I play the harp myself.”

“See.” Sigurd added. “You run your mouth, yet know nothing about her. But why am I surprised? It is your habit to say stupid things.”

Ivar’s jaw clenched. He despised Sigurd already. But for him to make such a comment in front of you made him angrier. 

“Watch how you speak to me, brother.” Ivar replied. “I do not like you as it is.”

“So what?” Sigurd said with scorn. “Would you like to fight me then? That wouldn’t be wise since I would easily win. After all, you are a cripple.”

You tried to pull the curly-haired Prince away, but he didn’t budge.

“Say that again!” Ivar demanded - his blue eyes dark with malice.

Drawing closer, Sigurd towered over his seated brother - mocking him with a smirk.

“I said, you are a cri-------”

Just like that, Ivar’s hand flew upward. The axe in his hand aimed straight at Sigurd’s throat. Fortunately, someone grabbed Ivar’s wrist in time. 

“Stop this nonsense!” The man demanded. Ivar glared at Sigurd - his axe blade only inches from his brother’s throat. “Will you sons of Ragnar kill one another?”

Prince Ivar’s hand went down, but his eyes were still full of malice. You were totally shocked by his attempt to kill his own sibling. If it had not been for the blacksmith, Sigurd would have taken an axe to the throat. A lethal injury indeed.

“I need fresh air.” You said.

Though Ivar called your name, you ignored him and hurried out of the Smithy’s. 

________________________

You didn’t go to King Ragnar’s estate for a few days. The incident between Sigurd and Ivar had left you numb and you needed space. Eventually, you calmed down enough to go and visit Freydis. 

“But this is too nice. Are you sure you wish to give it to me?” She asked - looking over the silver bangle you had given her.

“Of course I am.” You replied. “You are my friend after all.”

“Do you truly consider me a friend, Lady Y/N?” Freydis asked. “I mean, I’m merely a Thrall.”

“Of course I do. Do you not feel the same.”

“Very much.” She replied. “In fact, I think of you more like a sister.”

“Likewise. Though I think Iric would hate the idea.” You said with a laugh. “I think we give him headaches.”

Unexpectedly, she held your hand and thanked you for being so kind. It was the fist time in over three years that anyone had made Freydis feel like a real person. Even being Ivar’s lover meant nothing. She was merely a bed-warmer. Nothing more. 

“There you are.” Prince Ivar exclaimed as he entered. 

The sound of his crutch drew closer as you tried to ignore him. Taking a seat beside you on the long bench, Ivar glared at you. You were on speaking terms with everyone except him, and he hated it. 

“Look at what Lady Y/N gave me.” Freydis said in an attempt to ease the tension. “Is it not lovely?”

“I suppose.” Ivar replied, looking it over. He then look at you again. “Why did you not tell me you were giving her a gift?.” 

When you gave no response, the Prince moved closer.

“Do not ignore me Y/N.” Ivar demanded. “You are being childish.”

“Prince Ivar, please let me be.”

“I will not let you be. You are under my roof after all. That means I have a right to demand respect.”

Fed up with his apparent need to spoil your time with Freydis, you faced him.

“Fine! You have my undivided attention, your Highness.” You said. “What do you require?”

“Did you hear what I said about giving her gifts?” He asked.

“I shall inform you the next time I wish to bestow a gift. Anything else?”

“Do not take that tone with me!” Ivar replied. “You forget yourself much too often. I am a Prince.”

“Of course you are.” You said, getting to your feet. “That does not change the fact that I detest you!”

“What?”

“You heard me! I do not like you very much. But I know I must show you respect so I shall say nothing more.”

“Oh? Why stop there?” Ivar seethed. “I want to hear it all.”

“I have said enough already. You replied. “Goodbye, your Highness.”

With that, you rushed out of the room. 

______________________

You had Prince Ubbe take you home straightaway. Though you had wanted to spend time with Freydis, you couldn’t handle Ivar’s presence. In the evening, as you prepared to go to sleep, you were in a foul mood.

"Would you like some Golden milk?” Thabisa asked as she placed furs over you.

“No, thank you.” 

After stoking the flames of the fireplace, she bid you goodnight and departed the chamber. Finally alone, you looked up at the ceiling as you pondered the days events. It was then a stone hit your window.

Of course, you knew exactly who it was. Though Prince Ivar had not come to your window since your parents had returned, he couldn’t stay away this time. After what you had said to him, he felt restless. 

He threw several more stones before you finally got fed up. Stomping over to the window, you opened it and glared at him.

“Go home!”

“No!” Ivar replied. “And I am not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

“We shall see about that.”

You walked off in a huff and began searching around your chamber. Then, in the corner upon a table, you found it. The pitcher Thabisa had left. Grabbing hold of it, you went to the window and threw the mead in Ivar’s face.

“Have you lost your senses?” Ivar barked, his face flushing a crimson shade. “You will regret this Y/N, mark my words!”

“No, I will not! If you would have left as I asked, none of this would have happened. It is your own fault!”

“You have no idea who you are dealing with. I know you have not been in Kattegat long, but you should have asked around.”

“I do not need to ask anyone about you! I see who you are already.” You yelled. “What are you going to do? Threaten me with an axe like you did your brother?”

Ivar gave you a look that nearly made you stop talking. 

“Watch your tongue, Y/N.” He said an oddly calm tone. “I will only take so much from you.”

“Do your worst, Prince Ivar!”

Just as you were about to close the window, your father entered. He had been up late writing letters and had heard voices as he passed by your door.

“Ducky, what is going on in here?”

His eyes first went to the empty pitcher in your hand, and then the opened window. When your father reached your side, he was shocked to see Prince Ivar - drenched hair and all. Immediately, he realized what had happened.

“Your Highness, please meet me at the entrance. We shall get you some dry clothes.”

Your father gave you a bewildered expression before he left your chamber. You weren’t sure what was going to happen next, but you knew you were in trouble.

_____________________

After Ivar had been cleaned up by the servants, he was given one of your fathers silk tunics to wear. As the two of you sat across from your father in the Study, he kept stealing glances at you.

Being a wise man, your father observed the two of you first. He wanted to see if what he had been thinking was true. In his eyes, people said more with their body language than with their words. 

“Prince Ivar, I will first start by apologizing for my daughter’s behavior.” Your father began. “She is well equipped to speak her mind without resorting to such behavior.” He then looked at you. “Is that not right, Ducky?”

Ivar smirked. He had no idea that you had a pet-name. 

“Yes, father.” You replied. Turning your head, you looked at Ivar. “My Prince, please forgive me for my rash behavior.”

Ivar stared at you for a while before stating that he did not accept your apology. .

“Unlike your father, your words are not sincere.” Ivar said. 

“I am sorry that you feel that way, your Highness. But I am truly remorseful. I should not have thrown mead on you.”

“Oh?” Ivar exclaimed. “But that is not all you have done. You insulted me the other day in my own home. You said you detested.”

“I had good reason. Do you not see how you treat everyone? You even----”

“So what if I am harsh at times?” He interrupted. “For one thing, I only get angry when people cross me or do stupid things. Have you forgotten that you tried to go behind my back and free my Thrall?”

“Freydis is more than a Thrall! She is my friend.”

As the two of you bickered, your father surprisingly did not interject. Instead, he watched intently while stroking his beard. After gathering much from the back-and-forth, he finally spoke up.

“Ducky, please remember that the Prince is due respect.” He began. “I want you to apologize for everything that has occurred. Furthermore, I want you to say that you will not disrespect him again.”

You clenched your jaw hard before looking at Ivar again. When your eyes met, he didn’t look as smug as you had expected.

“Your Highness, my father raised me to be respectful but I have not behaved that way. I hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I shall also refrain from doing or saying things that offend.”

“Hmmm. That sounds somewhat believable.” Ivar replied mockingly. “I shall think it over.”

Though you saw the taunt in his eyes, you held your tongue. 

Pleased that he had defused the situation, your father insisted that the Prince spend the night. At first, Ivar resisted, however, he eventually agreed.

______________________

“Y/N, more over.”

You stirred in your sleep, finally opening your eyes due to someone shaking you. Slowly, you vision became more clear.

“Ivar?” You drowsily said.

As you rubbed your eyes, the Prince got laid down beside you. Too tired to argue, you rolled over, turning your back to him. Since he was also very tired, placed his arm over you and closed his eyes.

“Go back to your guest chamber.” 

“No. I cannot sleep properly when I am alone.”

You gave up. The last thing you wanted was to raise your voice and have someone overhear you again. Before long, you fell asleep again, snuggled in Prince Ivar arms.

_______________________

The following morning, the youngest Ragnarsson was already gone when you awakened. After prayers, you had your bath and dressed in a beige Sari with intricate silver embellishments. For the first time since you had arrived in Kattegat, you also had the servants place a Tikka (jewelry that adorns the forehead and is attached to the hair).

In the Great Hall, your family members were already eating first meal when you entered.

“Apologies for being late.” You said, looking between your parents. “I suppose I am running behind schedule today.”

“That is understandable.” Your mother replied with a knowing smile. “I hear that Prince Ivar paid us a visit.”

Your eyes fell to the plate a Thrall had just set before you. As for your sisters, they laughed, each stating that they had suspected that the Prince had an eye for you.

“Why do you girls say that?” Your father asked as he stirred honey into his porridge. “Ducky detests Prince Ivar.”

“Do not believe her. While you were gone, he gave her a gift.” Sheena said proudly.

Great, she told your parents before you had a chance to do so. You looked at your sister with a mean expression but Sheena only shrugged.

“Is that true?” Your mother asked. “The Prince bestowed a gift and you failed to tell us?”

“I.......I simply forgot about it.”

Your mother and father exchanged glances. Whatever you thought you were hiding was becoming apparent. None of you behavior had anything to do with hating the young Prince. Not in the least. From what your parents gathered, you were simply confused by your feelings.

“May I see it?” Your mother asked.

Reaching into your blouse, you pulled out the pendant engraved with the Web Of Wyrd. Motioning you over, your mother examined it closer.

“Y/N, this is very beautiful.” She said admiring the jewelry. “Did he tell you the meaning of the runes?”

“It is the Web Of Wyrd, mother.” Sheena eagerly replied. “It represents the crossing of fates.”

“Personally, I think Prince Ivar likes Y/N but does not know how to say it.” Aaliya concurred. “Hvitserk has said that he is guarded when it comes to his true feelings.”

“Is that so?” Your father said as he looked at you. “Did you know that, Ducky?”

“No.” You replied, taking your seat again. 

“What are your feelings toward the Prince?” Your mother asked.

“He is alright. I suppose.”

Your parents didn’t say anything further about the gift. However, you could tell that they were definitely thinking something.

____________________

At the shipyard, a warm breeze rolled in from the ocean as Floki’s men worked. As for the eccentric shipbuilder himself, he was sat down beside Prince Ivar. Not far from them, Freydis was happily chatting with her brother, Iric.

“Oh, look.” The young man said, pointing down the pathway. “Over there.” 

When his sister looked, she was delighted to see you approaching with your guards not far behind.

“Y/N!” Freydis exclaimed, getting to her feet. “I did not know you were coming today.”

You hugged the flaxen-haired Thrall and informed her that you had not intended on coming. However, since your sisters were at a show with Bjorn and Hvitserk, you had grown bored.

“Hello, Master Floki.” You said, making certain to greet him respectfully. “How are you today?”

“I am well, little one.” He replied, giving you a quirky look. “Have you been studying the writings I gave you last?”

“Yes, I have.” You said taking a seat beside him. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“There is always work. Let me see.” Floki stated before looking at Ivar. “You see the papers he’s going through? I want you to help put them in order so I may have them bound.”

With that, he stood and left you to assist the Prince. Of course, the task Floki assigned was purely his way of forcing the two of you to spend time together. With all that Ivar had told the shipbuilder, he had quickly deduced that the young Prince was smitten. 

When you locked eyes with Ivar, your heart fluttered. His hair had been re-braided and the ends left loose to fall down his back.  

“Good afternoon, Y/N.”

“Afternoon, your Highness.”

Ivar gave you a boyish smirk before handing you half of the stack of papers in his hand. 

“Freydis would you like to help?” You asked turning to the Thrall.

“Certainly, my Lady.” She said taking a seat beside you. 

After giving her some of the papers, you glanced at her younger brother who was busily coiling new ropes. 

“Iric, how has your day been thus far?” You asked causing the shy young man to blush.

“It has been well, Lady Y/N” He replied. “Thank you for asking.”

Ivar rolled his eyes. He didn’t like the syrupy manner in which you greeted Freydis’ brother. He also didn’t like the long look the two of you exchanged.

“Enough small talk. Get back to work, Iric.” He ordered. “You are here to work not fraternize with Y/N.”

“Yes, your Highness.” 

As Iric continued to coil the rope, your attention snapped to Ivar. You had not been there long and already, he was being rude.

“I beg your pardon, but he may speak to me whenever he likes. After all, I have no issue with it, my Prince.”

Ivar didn’t reply straightway. Eventually, he met your stare and flatly told you to be quiet.

“Pardon me?”

“You heard me.” Ivar reiterated. "I shall not repeat myself. You are here to learn from Floki not distract every man that passes by.”

“Your Highness, with all due respect, I insist that you stop exaggerating.”

“Is that so? Then what do you call that exchange between you and my Thrall?”

“A friendly conversation.” You replied.

Ivar sarcastically chuckled at your response. Giving you his full attention, his eyes bore into your own.

“Whatever you call it, I ask that you desist. They are my Thralls after all. Or have you forgotten that fact, Ducky?”

“I have had it with you!” You said, fed up with his moodiness. The fact that he had used your pet-name made you even angrier. “I do not care if I get in trouble! You are an idiot!”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You stood up and gave the papers to a stunned Freydis. 

“You cannot speak to me that way, I am a Prince!”

“So what?” You seethed. “You think that gives you the right to talk down to everyone? You may be Royalty, but you will always be lonely with that temperament.”

You then reached into your blouse and took hold of the silver pendant. Yanking it with all your might, you broke the leather it dangled from. 

“Here!” You shouted, throwing the necklace at him. “Take this back!”

Without another word, you stormed off down the pathway as your guards followed.

________________________

The following day, you did not attend the feast at King Ragnar’s estate. Though your parents tried get you to change your mind, you refused to be anywhere that Prince Ivar was present. Relenting, your father decided that you would not be forced to attend.

Thus, you spent the time they were gone reading the writings Master Floki had given you. 

At the feast, a solemn Ivar sat alone as everyone danced and mingled in Great Hall. It was a happy occasion for two reasons. One being the successful diplomatic journey of King Ragnar and your father. 

And the second being the announcement of Bjorn and Hvitserk’s courtships. As instructed, your father was presented the daggers as required by tradition. 

Though Prince Ivar was happy for his brothers, he couldn’t help feeling down. Everyone had a woman that cared for them. Ubbe was with a local Jarl’s daughter and even Sigurd had invited a shy maiden he had recently met.

“There you are. Why are you seated afar in this corner?” A plastered Floki asked as he sat down. Almost spilling his mead, he hit Ivar’s horn with his own.  “To Hvitserk, Bjorn and their lasses. Soon, they shall be real men.”

“To them” The young Prince echoed.

Just as quickly as he had perked up, Ivar went silent again. Noticing the drastic change of mood, Floki asked why Freydis was not beside him.

“I allowed her free-time for the evening. She is with her brother.”

“Do you not wish for her to be here? She is your lover after all and this is a special occasion.”

“No. I need my space every so often.”

Floki was not satisfied with the response. Especially since it was the first time Freydis was not present for a gathering.

“Are you two having problems?”

The Prince shook his head while running a finger over the rim of his horn. Though he uttered no words, the far away look in Ivar’s eyes said plenty. Pressing him further, Floki asked where you were.

“I do not know, nor do I care.”

“Hmm. Do not take offense, but I do not believe you.” Floki said with a chuckle. “Not in the least.”

Ivar’s jaw tensed as he became uncomfortable with the topic.

“She hates me.” He suddenly blurted out. 

“Who hates you?” The shipbuilder asked, despite knowing full well whom Ivar meant. “Freydis?”

“No! Y/N. She treats everyone else so kindly but.......”

Ivar stopped mid-sentence. Too frustrated to get anything else out. Getting up from where he sat, Floki moved and took a seat beside him. 

“Listen, I want you to be honest with me.” He said. “Why do you keep Freydis around when it is obvious that you do not love her?”

“I need her. You could say I am accustomed to her being at my side.”

“Ivar, you told me that Y/N asked for her to be set free. But despite you saying in the past that you wished to let Freydis return home, you fought the issue. Why?”

“Because.” Ivar replied. Taking as sip of mead, he averted his gaze. “As I have said already, she is my companion.”

The shipbuilder may have been inebriated, but he was no fool. 

“If you wish to lose Y/N, that is fine. But do not complain when she finds a beau.” Floki said with a laugh. “Now if you will excuse me, I must congratulate your brothers.”

As he stood, Ivar grabbed hold of his arm. 

“Please, do not leave.”

Floki sat back down without hesitation. He then asked the young Prince to come clean.

“You are right. I did want to let Freydis to go. But now, I am afraid.”

“Why? Do you think you shall be lonely once she is gone?”

“No.”

Ivar tensed as he began rocking back and forth - his emotions threatening to spill over.

“If you do not tell me what is wrong, I cannot help.” A concerned Floki said, trying to urge him on.

“I am afraid that Y/N will not come around anymore if I let Freydis go.”

The Prince felt a sense of relief now that he had finally verbalized his fear. He had always felt that the only people that would ever care for him was his family. 

“Ivar, you cannot keep someone around for such a ridiculous reason.”

“You do not understand. If I give Freydis her freedom, I will lose Y/N. They are great friends so at least that keeps her close.”

“My boy, you cannot be so selfish.” Floki said in earnest. “Besides, do you think Y/N will ever show any romantic interest while you have a lover? Especially one she is friends with?”

The question made sense. However, Ivar was still torn. 

“But what if I am right?” He asked. “What if Y/N stops coming around once I let Freydis go?”

“If I were in your place, I would give Freydis her freedom. That way, I could make room in my life for someone I truly love.”

“But what if Y/N does not reciprocate my feelings?”

“It is a gamble we all take as men. You will not know anything if you do not confess your feelings.” Floki said. “But first, rid yourself of your lover.”

_____________________

As you rushed toward the carriage that had just arrived by the stables, your father exited. He then assisted your mother in getting out before turning to you.

“Ducky, I am surprised that you are still awake.”

“I waited so I could hear how everything went.” You said looking into the carriage. “Where are Sheena and Aaliya?”

Your father explained that the festivities were still going strong so they had chosen to remain. 

“Oh. So they will get an escort home?” You asked as you walked between your parents.

“No. Since Jarl Hermund’s daughters were in attendance, I gave permission for them to spend the night at their estate.”

You were a bit disappointed since you had wanted to hear of their night. But ever since they had befriended the Jarl’s daughters, your sisters spent less time at home. 

“How was it?” You asked.

“It was amazing.” Your mother said, taking hold of your arm. “There were live  performers of all kinds. Musicians, jugglers, dancers. I could go on and on. And the food and drink was in excess. Too much if you ask me.”

“There is no such thing as too much drink, Zahra.” Your father replied with a laugh. “But your mother is right about it being splendid. I even saw your moody friend having a wonderful time.”

“My moody friend?” You repeated. 

You glanced at your father as the three of you entered the Northern passageway.

“Yes. Prince Ivar. He was utterly surrounded by pretty maidens.” Your father added. “I dare say, he will be the next to start courting.”

Your mother shot him a confused look. But when your father gave her a wink, she understood what he was doing. You had not been forthcoming and there was already one courting proposal on the table. Thus your father was changing tactics. He knew that the thought of losing love, would make the truth come to the surface.

“Did he ask about me?”

“I am afraid not. Like I said, he was really occupied most of the night.” Your father replied. “However, we did briefly chat about an upcoming raid.”

“Oh, that sounds....interesting.” You said as your heart sank.

“Well, goodnight, Ducky. We shall tell you more in the morning.” He added.

You kissed them both and bid them goodnight. As you made your way toward your chamber, your stomach was in knots. It had been easy to accept the thought of Freydis being with Prince Ivar. After all, she was a Thrall and he was her Master.

But the thought of free maidens throwing themselves at him frightened you. A Prince would likely not choose to marry a slave. After all, they had nothing of worth. But free maidens had things to offer like fortune, connections and lands.

“I have been too difficult and now, I’m going to lose him.”

__________________

After morning prayer and first meal, your mother left to visit orphanages with Queen Aslaug. Since your father was busy holding meetings in the Great Hall, you spent your time playing harp in the garden.

However, you found it difficult to concentrate. 

“I wonder how many he found to his liking.” You thought to yourself. “What if he is with one of them at this very moment?”

You just couldn’t think of such a thing a moment longer. Looking at your sheet music, you turned the page in an attempt to find something that wasn’t depressing.

“Ducky, how is practice coming along?”

Your jovial father took at seat on the white stone bench. Apparently, his next visitor was late so he had come to keep you company a while.

“It is going fine.”

“Something is off about you today. I can see it in your eyes.”

You tried to avert your gaze knowing how easy it was for him to read you. That was the downside of being so close to a parent. It was difficult to deceive them.

“I can assure you that I am perfectly fine.”

“I hear your words.” Your father said. “However, you do not look fine.”

“But I am.” You insisted. “Everything is wonderful.”

He motioned for you to come sit beside him. After stalling, you finally stood and did as he had asked. 

“Ducky, please talk to me.” He said. “I am your father and I cannot bear see you unhappy.”

You got flustered right away. It was hard to admit that though Prince Ivar was temperamental, you had become smitten. You leaned into your father chest, resting your head. 

“It is alright.” He said in a comforting tone. “Just take your time.”

“I think you may be right about........you know.”

“About there being no such thing as too much drink?”

“Father!”

He chuckled and said he was merely trying to sooth your nerves. Getting more serious, your father allowed you to speak as he listened attentively. When you were finally done unburdening yourself, he remained quiet for some time.

“Ducky, though you say that Prince Ivar is difficult, have you ever considered why?”

“I know why?” You replied. “He is ill-tempered. I have no idea why he is always on the warpath.”

“Would you not be if you were in his place?”

You glanced at your father a second before laying your head against his chest again. When you asked what he meant, he explained that he empathized with the young Prince.

“I cannot imagine what he has endured.” Your father added. “It is not easy to be crippled and surrounded by people who will never let you forget that you are less than.”

“But he is a Prince.”

“And what does that mean? He asked. “That people stop behaving like people? Ducky, the world is full of cruelty. Even a lofty title cannot shield him from that.”

You had not considered that. It was true that Prince Ivar struggled to live in a world where everyone judged him for being a cripple. And it wasn’t like your father was exaggerating. After all, you had heard the exchanges between Sigurd and Ivar for yourself. 

“Father, what do you think I should do?” You asked as you sat up. “I do like him but he can be difficult to be around.”

“I will say this.....” He replied. “Sometimes, a little understanding goes a long way. It does not mean that things will be perfect or that you may get together. But if you care for Prince Ivar, the least you can do is try.”

____________________

During the next two weeks, you eagerly anticipated seeing Ivar. After what your father had said, you just wanted the chance to be honest about your feelings.

But whenever the Ragnarssons visited or invited you all somewhere, Ivar was nowhere to be found. Even at Floki’s shipyard, he had ceased turning up. You eventually asked Freydis of the Prince’s whereabouts, however, she informed you that only King Ragnar had that information.

One day, as you sat on the pier looking out over the ocean, Prince Ubbe and Hvitserk approached. You were so lost in thought that you nearly jumped out of your skin when they snuck up on you.

“For the love of the Gods!” You said. “You nearly scared me to death.”

“That will teach you to pay attention to your surroundings.” Ubbe replied with a laugh. He then looked around before glancing at you again. “Where are your sisters?”

“Actually, they are with Queen Aslaug. I believe they said something about calling on Master Floki’s wife.”

“It must be because she is close to giving birth.” Hvitserk said as he sat on a barrel. “So what is new with you, Y/N?”

“Not much. I just finished helping at the shipyard so I came here to enjoy the weather.”

The brothers exchanged glances before Ubbe asked why you were not with Freydis. When you explained that she had been given extra duties, they both nodded. You then looked them, nervous about asking the question burning in your heart.

“Something on your mind?” An observant Ubbe suddenly asked. 

“I was wondering........” You began. “Where has your brother gone off to?”

“Who? Sigurd?” Ubbe asked with a chuckle. 

“No. I am speaking of Ivar”

Just like Freydis, Ubbe and Hvitserk stated that they didn’t know where he was. 

“Did he at least say when he would return?” You asked.

“No. But do not worry.” Hvitserk said. “Wherever he is, I’m sure he is perfectly fine.”

You looked back at the ocean. Their words did not comfort you. In fact, you felt even worse. 

_______________________

Two weeks quickly turned into two months, and still no sign of Prince Ivar. During his time away, Master Floki’s wife, Helga, gave birth to their daughter. This meant the women called on her more frequently. Even your  sisters were beside themselves, going to see the baby every chance they had.

Not long after the birth of the shipbuilder’s child, Your father was invited by King Ragnar to attend a wedding in a nearby kingdom. Apparently, it was a diplomatic venture so your mother escorted him.

On the day of their departure, you sat in the courtyard after having your hair braided - utterly bored. 

Prince Bjorn had taken Sheena and her chaperone to visit a childhood friend in the countryside. And as for Aaliya, she was in town with Prince Hvitserk, likely shopping.

Indeed, everyone was doing something except you. 

“Lady, Y/N.” Thabisa said, approaching you quickly. “There is a carriage in front of the estate awaiting you.”

Your heart raced. Could it possibly be Prince Ivar? Perhaps he had finally returned and come to see you straightaway. 

“Who is it?”

“It is that servant friend of yours. I believe you call her, Freydis.”

Though your elation was short lived, you stood and went to meet the Thrall. If nothing else, you could at least distract yourself for a few hours.

____________________

As you stepped out of the carriage, your heart was beating faster than you could handle. You didn’t know why you were so anxious but you couldn't help yourself. Freydis had come to fetch you so that you could welcome Prince Ivar home.

His ship was already docked by the time the two of you reached the quay. While you were pulling your shawl closer to your shoulders, Freydis elbowed you and pointed in the distance. 

No more than a few yards away, you spotted him. Prince Ivar looking handsome and sun-kissed from his journey. 

You couldn’t help staring. It was the first time you had seen him since accepting your romantic feelings. As you nervously stood beside his Thrall, Prince Ivar finally looked in your direction. When you eyes met, he paused ever so briefly. But as you were raising your hand to wave at him, he looked away.

Eventually, the young Ragnarsson made his way over to where the two of you stood. You bit your bottom lip as he greeted Freydis with a kiss on the cheek before looking at you.

“Y/N.” Ivar said politely. “I hope you are well.”

“I am, your Highness.”

Your eyes stayed on his, desperately wanting to say more. But you lacked the courage. 

“Thank you for being on time.” He said as he gave Freydis his attention again. “Come, let us go home.”

As the three of you made your way to the carriage, the flaxen-haired Thrall tried to fall behind so that you were closer to the Prince. But despite you walking by his side, Ivar didn’t say anything else.

________________________

At home, you were quiet during family time in the Parlor. As you lay on a large cushioned bench, your mind wandered. Since Prince Ivar claimed to be exhausted from his journey, he had not allowed you to stay. 

Instead, after he and Freydis were dropped off, he gave instruction for the carriage-driver to bring you home.

Needless to say, his lack of interest in speaking to you had left you hurt. Typically, no matter how moody, the Prince always paid you attention. Even if it was only to taunt or get a rise out of you. But now, he was just cold.

“What if he is laying with Freydis right now?” You thought. “What a stupid question. Of course he is. After all, he has likely missed her after being away for so long.”

“Hey!” Sheena said, throwing a small pillow at you. “I just asked you a question.

“Oh. I did not hear you.” You replied.

“You seem to be distracted allot these days.” Aaliya teased. She was sat by the fireplace embellishing a black Kurta tunic for Hvitserk. “If I was the kind of person to jump to conclusions, I would assume you are thinking of a boy.”

“Not just any boy.” Sheena added. “Prince Ivar. A little birdie told me that he returned today.”

You denied that you were thinking of him. But you did confess that you knew he had returned.

“You should call on him.” Aaliya suggested. “I think he would appreciate it after how long he has been away.”

You looked at the fireplace before letting them know that you had welcomed him home already. However, you also confessed that he was not to pleased with your presence.

“Are you sure?” Sheena asked, seemingly confused by what you had said. “Prince Ivar typically goes out of his way to speak to you.”

“Not anymore.” You replied.

You didn’t know what to do to anymore. Ivar had finally returned. But now, the gulf between you had grown. And the worst part was, you didn't even know why.

______________________

Three days later, you couldn’t believe what was occurring. As you watched two male Thralls unloading large travel satchels from a wagon, Freydis gingerly approached.

“I am beside myself.” She said, smiling more than you had ever seen her do. “Can you believe it?”

“I must confess, I’m utterly shocked.”

You looked at your friend and returned her smile in kind. But it was bittersweet. When you had met, you didn’t know how close the two of you would become. But now that she was leaving, you felt selfish. It was not that long ago that you had asked for her freedom as your reward.

But now that she was actually a free woman, you wanted to cry. Both tears of joy and sadness.

“I am going to miss you.” You admitted. “You are my closest friend here. What shall I do without you?”

Freydis held back tears before throwing her arms about your neck. She embraced you for a long time before letting go and taking hold of your hands.

“You can be sure that our door is always open to you.” She said. “And I shall try to visit you as well. After all, it is only a four day journey.”

“But in the meantime, we should write each other often.” You suggested.

“Agreed.” 

As you conversed, Iric, her younger brother, approached. He awkwardly greeted you, as he averted his eyes.

“Why are you always so timid when you speak to me?” You asked. “Do I make you nervous?

“Well, if you really must know........” Iric said with a crooked smirk upon his face. “you do.”

You couldn’t help laughing. Freydis shook her head before playfully bumping him with her elbow. She then teased him for always being tongue tied around pretty women. 

“I........I must go and see if everything has been unloaded.” A red-faced Iric said before rushing away.

“That was cruel. Why did you do that to your brother?” 

“What are sisters for?” Freydis replied, making you laugh even harder.

Pulling you aside, she suddenly became serious.

“Y/N, we are good friends, right?”

“Of course we are.”

After taking a deep breath, Freydis asked that you look after Prince Ivar. Naturally, you were confused by the request. Not only because he had been avoiding you but because you didn’t know where their relationship stood.

“But, why me?” You asked. “He is your lover after all. Besides, I am sure that he will------”

“Y/N, Ivar does not love me.” Freydis interrupted with a sad voice. “He has told me so, quite plainly.”

“What?” You asked with a confused expression.

Freydis went on to explain that it had been Prince Ivar’s decision to free both she and Iric. In fact, he had informed King Ragnar of his plans before his journey. He even paid the the balance of the coin owed upon his return.

“But why? Wouldn’t his father free you to please Ivar?”

“King Ragnar was going to do just that.” Freydis replied. “But Ivar insisted. I heard him tell his father that he wanted to do things properly. Since his father was owed coin, he felt that it was only fair that he pay our debt.”

You were pleasantly surprised. After the way he had reacted, you never thought that Ivar would give Freydis her freedom. 

“This is.......unbelievable.” You exclaimed. 

“I know. But he did this to make you happy.”

"Me?”

“Yes.” She replied. “To be honest, he doesn’t want you to know he did this. I was to tell you that Bjorn or Ubbe had petitioned for our freedom as you had requested. But I cannot lie to you.”

“This is.........surprising.” You replied - your heart swelling with joy. 

"Now that you know, perhaps you can do as I have asked.” Freydis said.

You nodded and agreed to get closer to Ivar. She had truly opened your eyes by ignoring his wish for you to be in the dark. As she embraced you again, Iric approached, with a pleased expression.

“It is time to board.” He announced. 

When Freydis let go of you, Iric gave you a warm embrace as well. 

“We shall never forget you, Y/N.” He said, his rose-colored cheeks flushing a deeper shade. “You will visit us in Geitland, will you not?”

“Of course. I am a traveler at heart, after all.”

Iric stated that you would love their homeland’s picturesque countryside as he picked up his sister’s bag. After a few more tearful embraces, you watched as the siblings made their way to the awaiting boat.

It was difficult but at least you knew they would be with their family again. 

_______________________

After watching the ship that carried your friends disappear into the distance, you passed by the King Ragnar’s estate. However, you were dissapointed to find out that none of the Ragnarssons were home. 

You had the carriage-driver take you to their private training grounds, but the only person familiar to you there was Halfdan. He informed you that though Prince Ubbe had been there earlier, he hadn’t seen the others.

Still determined to find Ivar, you went two more locations, including the swimming hole they frequented. But you had no luck at any of those places either.

Utterly dissapointed, you had no choice but to finally go home. 

Upon your arrival, you were surprised to run into Prince Hvitserk and Aaliya. The two of them were having second meal together in the Great Hall.

“Y/N, come and join us.” A chipper Hvitserk said. 

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry.” You replied as you took a seat. “Did you two know that Freydis and Iric’s ship has left?” 

“No, I did not.” Your sister said. “Did you see them off?”

You nodded before sighing louder than you had intended. Hvitserk, who had just placed some Bhatura bread on his plate, looked at you with curiosity. He then asked if her departure was the reason for your apparent melancholy.

“Though I will miss them, I’m glad that they are headed home.”

“Then what is wrong?” Aaliya asked. “Hvitserk is right, you do look like one suffering form melancholy. Are you getting ill?”

“Of course not. I feel perfectly fine.”

“Then what is it?” You sister demanded, fed up with you dancing around their questions. “I want the truth and I want it now.”

You paused, wondering if you should just make up a reason. However, you didn’t want to lie. With nothing to lose, you admitted that you had gone in search of Prince Ivar after leaving the docks.

“I went everywhere I could think of but.........” Your voice trailed off. 

There was nothing more to say. Besides, you were afraid that if you spoke any further, you would burst into tears.

“Y/N, if you did not find him in those places, your best bet is at the hillside not far from our estate.” Prince Hvitserk suggested. “Ivar goes there often to clear his mind and get away from everyone.”

“Really?” You said. “Can you tell me how to get there?”

“I can do better than that. I can take you there myself as soon as I’m done eating.”

 ______________________

 “Just as I said!” Prince Hvitserk announced as he helped you up the narrow path. He then pointed off in the distance at a hooded figure seated upon a large rock. “Do you see him?”

You nodded and thanked him for bringing you. As you made your way toward the object of your affection, your heart raced. It was now or never.

“Ivar!” You called out, hastily walking to where he sat. “Ivar!”

Upon hearing his the Prince looked in your direction. Taking down the hood of his black cloak, he glared at you. 

“Who told you about this place?” He asked, looking quite unhappy with your presence. 

“Uh.....I asked Prince Hvitserk and----”

“It does not matter!” Ivar interrupted. “This is where I come to speak to my Gods. I do not want nor need company.”

“I understand, your Highness.” You managed to say despite being  unnerved by his tone. “But please allow me to explain why I came.”

“No, Y/N. I do not wish to hear anything!” He said, no longer looking at you. “Why must you so hard of hearing, hmm? I just told you that I come here to be with my Gods. So please, go away!”

The Prince just wanted you to go away for the sake of his sanity. In his eyes, you had proven to be like everyone else. 

“If you truly want me to leave, I shall go.” You said.

But as you turned to walk away, you stopped and looked at him again. 

“Ivar.”

“That is not how you address someone with a higher title than you.” He hissed. “Now go away.”

In spite of your nerves, you rushed to where he sat - determined to be heard. After what Freydis had confessed, you were not going to allow Ivar to push you away.

“Look at me!” You demanded. “You at least owe me that much.”

“I owe you nothing, Y/N.”

“Yes, you do.”

When he refused to give you his attention, you stood directly in front of him.

“What has gotten into you?” Ivar demanded. “Have you forgotten your place?”

“No, your Highness. I have not.” 

You tried to utter the words you had rehearsed so many times. But as Ivar stared at you, your mind went blank.

“Are you just going to stand there and gawk at me?” He asked, scoffing at your behavior.  

“I......I want to apologize. But you must admit that you’re not easy to get along with.”

“I do not have to admit anything.” Ivar replied, his eyes locked on yours. “And what is more, I do not need nor want your pity.”

“It is not pity.” You countered. “I said that I have been difficult at times. And for my part, in our inability to get along, I apologize.”

“Y/N, keep your so-called apology!” He nearly screamed. “I may be nothing more than a cripple in your eyes but I---- ”

You threw your arms about his neck, catching him off guard. As you laid your head on his shoulder, Ivar’s body stiffened. At first, he wanted to push you away. But instead, he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I have missed you.” You whispered. 

Prince Ivar was at a loss. You felt him pull you closer, his grasp becoming tighter. When you lifted you head to look at him, Ivar pressed his forehead to yours. 

“Say that again.” He said.

“I missed you, Ivar. I was so happy when you returned, but then......”

When you went silent, he took his forehead from yours and gazed into your eyes. 

“Go on, Y/N.”

“Well, you began avoiding me.”

As you looked at his handsome face, gone was the intimidating anger. It had now been replaced by a serene expression.

“If it makes you feel better, I did not do it to be cruel.” He admitted letting go of you. However, you kept your arms about his neck. “Even now, you are making me go against the promise I made to myself.”

“What promise?”

After stalling for a moment, Prince Ivar admitted that he just wanted to avoid you for good. Not out of animosity but for practicality..

“But why? I do not understand.”

“Y/N, the two of us should not spend time together.” He said with a sad smile. “I cannot be your friend.”

“I do not wish to be your friend either.”

Ivar looked at you with a baffled expression. But before he could say anything else to discourage you, you pressed your lips to his. And were they ever soft as you had imagined.

As you pulled away, he leaned forward, refusing to break the kiss. His lips lingered against yours, giving you a series of pecks. Each more intense than the one before. Finally, Ivar parted your lips with his own, his honeyed tongue sliding into your mouth with longing.

His kiss was so deep and needy that your knees instantly went weak. You were so lightheaded, that you had to pull away to catch your breath.  

“I.....I feel weak.” You panted as he gave you open-mouthed kisses on the length of your neck.

Though it felt amazing, you could hardly take the warmth of his breath upon your flesh. Instinctively, you tried to squirm away, but Ivar held you firmly.

“Stop running from me.” He murmured with his lips against your neck. 

Amused at your inability to tolerate neck kisses, Ivar dragged his teeth against your flesh before playfully biting down. He then looked up at you, caressing your cheek with his calloused fingers.

“Do you want to be with me?” He asked.

“What?” You replied, frowning at him. “I just kissed you, didn’t I? “

“What does that mean?”

“Ivar!”

He chuckled, totally amused by your angry expression. Though you tried to walk away, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back. 

“Calm yourself, Ducky.”

“Do not call me that.” You said as he kissed your cheek. 

“Come on, my chariot is not far. If we stay any longer we will get caught in the approaching storm.” 

Letting go of you, he took hold of his crutch and placed it under his arm. To your surprise, he managed to get off the large rock quite easily. As the two of you made your way down the dirt pathway, you looked at him. 

“Ivar, do you think I can hold the reigns? When it is safe, of course.”

“No.” He replied with a taunting expression. “But you may hold this.”

Accepting the gesture, you happily took hold of Prince Ivar’s leather-bound hand.

_________________________

“You may enter.” Your father said as he sifted through the papers on his desk.

Though he had not looked up, he knew your knock and footsteps by heart. 

“Welcome home.” You said as you nervously entered the Study. 

“Thank you, Ducky. Have you greeted your mother as well?”

“I have. In fact, I just came from your chamber.”

You nervously played with your bracelets, trying to find the right way to ask for a sit-down. Fortunately, you didn’t have to break the silence.   

“Is there something on your mind?” Your father asked.

“Actually, there is.” You said. “I.......I mean, we.....Prince Ivar and I, would like to speak to you.”

Your father’s thick brow raised with interest. 

“Is that so?” He asked. “And when would the two of you like to do so?”

“Now. If that is alright.”

Your father leaned into his chair and nodded. He had an inkling of what the two of you were going to say, but he decided to feign ignorance. As he watched you practically skip to the doorway to fetch the Prince, your father chuckled.

“Emissary Hira, it is good to see you again.” Ivar said as he entered. Taking a seat, he placed his crutch down. “I hope we are not interrupting anything important.”

“Of course not, your Highness.” Your father replied. “Please, tell me how I may be of help.”  

As they spoke, you sat in the chair next to Ivar, and listened. 

“If you recall, the last time I was here, you gave us advice about our ongoing problems.”

“I recall that quite vividly.” Your father replied.

“Well, I have come to give you an update.”

“Is she throwing mead again?”

You glared at your father whilst Ivar resisted the temptation to laugh at your expense. After clarifying that he had not come to complain about any behavior on your part, the Prince continued. 

“Y/N and I, have realized that we like one another.” Ivar said, his attention never wavering from your father’s serious gaze. “As an honorable man, I would like to court her. With your permission of course.”

Your father remained silent as he ran his hand over his beard. Finally, he stood and paced the floor a short while. Just as you were getting worried about his response, he placed a firm hand on Ivar’s shoulder.

“It would be an honor for me to accept a dagger from you, your Highness.” Your father said. “You may inform King Ragnar of my approval.”

“Thank you, father.” You said, jumping from your seat and embracing him. 

Prince Ivar stood and gave your father a hearty handshake. Though he didn’t show it, he was stunned. He had assumed that your father would be hesitant due to him being a cripple.

“Now, you two run along. I have allot to do before last meal is served.”

As you and Ivar were leaving, he took hold of your hand. 

“Ducky.” Your father suddenly called out. “Does this mean that I should reject Prince Arun’s offer to court you?”

“Father! Please be serious.” You said glaring at him.

“It is merely a question.” He replied innocently before looking at Ivar. Your Highness, are you certain that Y/N is the one you want? After all, I have two other daughters.”

Ivar laughed, finding your father’s humor to his liking. You on the other hand, found it profoundly embarrassing. As the two of you excited the Study, he brought your hand to his lips for a kiss.

__________________

“Stop encouraging my father.” You said as the two of you walked the passageway. 

“Ducky, I am allowed laugh at my future in-laws quips.”

"What did I tell you about calling me that?”

“I cannot remember.” Ivar said, pulling you into the Parlor. “Now, enough talking.”

As he brought his lips to yours, you melted into his arms. 

“I still wish to travel.” You moaned against his mouth.. 

“You will.” Ivar replied, biting your bottom lip playfully. “But with me, not Bjorn.”

He then kissed your forehead followed by your cheek and chin. As you were staring into each others eyes, someone cleared their throat.

“Impressive.” Hvitserk commented as he raised his horn. “I came to ask how  things had worked out. But from the looks of things, it went well.”

Ivar rolled is eyes. Having four siblings meant that there was hardly an privacy at home. But now, he had to deal with it at your estate as well. Taking hold of your hand again, Ivar told his elder brother to mind his own affairs.

“Everyone is in the Sitting Room.” Hvitserk said as the three of you left the Parlor. “Thabisa is telling the most terrifying stories from her homeland.”

As the three of you walked down the passageway, you couldn't believe how happy you were. With Ivar’s hand in yours, you felt as is all was right with the world. 

And it was all thanks to your father and Freydis. You couldn’t wait to write or see her again. Indeed, you had to let her know how good of a friend she had truly been. As for Ivar, you knew he wasn’t going to change overnight. 

In fact, there was a great chance that he wouldn’t change at all. That was quite clear. But just like you had accepted your feelings for him. You were prepared to accept and love Ivar the way he was. 

__________________________

                                                      THE END

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[charlesoberonn]

Traveler’s Dilemma

Words: 1,960

Genres: science fiction, time travel, dark comedy

Content Warning: murder, blood, hitler

Synopsis: Thomas travels back in time on a very important secret mission, killing Adolf Hitler before he grows up to be a genocidal dictator. But something unusual happens just as he’s about to complete it.

"T-minus 2 minutes." the automatic voice read aloud. The entire room was dark except for the various instruments which blinked and blared around them.

Thomas strapped the cuffs of the special suit into his wrists, his gloves tightening and repressurizing. Lindsey stepped behind him and hooked the rest of the suit up his back. He turned around to look at her. Behind her he saw the countdown clock.

"You know they'll kill you when you come back." she said, her blue eyes seeming purple in the red light of the room.

"Hopefully when I come back, it'll be a better world." his voice was gruff and sexy, his face unshaven. He leaned and put his gloved hand on her cheek. "A world without us in it."

"We talked about it, Lin. We're doing this for the world."

Lindsey nodded and her eyes went serious. "For the world."

"T-minus 1 minute." the voice read.

"Time for you to go." Lindsey said and handed Thomas his helmet. He put it on his head and clicked it into place. He turned around and started walking into the chamber, but not before looking back at Lindsey from up close one last time.

He entered the chamber and looked up at his wife. She was fiddling with the controls, making sure everything was in order. "T-minus 30 seconds."

He looked down at his wrist, where his personal control panel was located.

"Passau, Germany, 24-08-1893" it read.

Lindsey gave him the thumbs up, and he returned with a gloved thumbs up of his own.

"T-minus 10 seconds... 9... 8... 7..."

Thomas closed his eyes. He knew that after his mission is complete, he'll be in a new world. A better world.

"6... 5... 4..."

"I love you." he whispered to Lindsey, though he knew she couldn't hear him. "3... 2... 1." Lightning zapped around him, the flashes filling the room with light. Lindsey narrowed her eyes, and for a fraction of a second, she saw her husband disappearing into dust. The room then grew dark again, and nothing in the central chamber remained.

A flash of light signalled Thomas' arrival in his destination. Like his origin point, it was the middle of the night, but he knew he was half a world and more than a century away from the Temporal Studies lab of the CIA.

The architecture was very familiar for houses in this period, but it looked so new and shiny. Thomas wasn't used to seeing such style in such good conditions.

He got his head straight and focused on his mission. We went up the stairs and into the bedroom of the youngest child in the house.

"Adolphus." it read on the door.

He went inside, stepping in as quietly as he could in the clunky suit. As expected, in the sole bed in the corner of the room slept a four-year-old boy with black hair, fast asleep.

He pressed on a container on the side of his shin, which opened automatically and pulled out an electric syringe. Synthetic blood poison. Would temporarily neutralize all red blood cells and deprive the brain of oxygen. Dead within 1 minute, gone within 14 hours. Undetectable to the medicinal technology of this era. They'd think the boy died from sudden system failure. It wasn't uncommon. All of his older siblings died young as well.

"Goodbye, Hitler." Thomas' hand was shaking as he was about to stab the needle into the sleeping boy's neck. He clenched his fist. He couldn't hesitate. He had to remember what this boy would grow up to be. What he'll grow up to do.

He raised his arm up high, and just as he was about to lower it, a familiar flash of lightning filled the room.

A bit of smoke was wofting through the air before going out the window, and in the smoke stood a man wearing a large top hat with goggles on top of it, and a three piece suit with large lappels.

"Oh, hello." the man spoke quite loudly.

"Sshh!" Thomas shut him up with a gloved finger on the man's lips. Young Hitler shifted in his bed, but stayed asleep. "Who are you?"

"I'm Menckill. I came here to kill the boy." Menckill bowed in front of Thomas, his left hand gesturing forward. He was holding a jagged knife.

"You can't kill him with that!" Thomas whispered-yelled at him before snatching up the knife. "That's barbaric."

"Well obviously, it's child murder." Menckill explained. "Is that not considered taboo where you're from?"

"No, I mean. Yes... I mean, not this child, I was here to kill him too. But not like this! This is brutal and unnecessary. What do you think the parents will think when they find him bleeding out in the morning?"

"Well, how were you going to kill him?"

"Humanely, with a single injection to the bloodstream that will kill his brain within 60 seconds."

"You think a lifeless body without blood stains will be any more acceptable for the parents?"

"I mean, yeah. At least they could bury him with dignity. They didn't do anything wrong. Besides, he's not gonna suffer." Thomas explained. "And neither will the millions he killed."

"Millions he killed? What are you talking about?" Menckill asked, he held his knife in a peculiar way, and Thomas was startled to find it's no longer in his hand.

"I am from the future. This kid will grow up to start a major war and end the lives of dozens of millions."

"Wow, weird. I'm also from the future, and where I come from he's just an overrated artist."

Thomas paused for a second, his head was spinning. After a couple of long moments he got back to his sense. "You were gonna kill a kid for growing up to be an artist?!"

"I mean, his art is really bad. And he's so beloved. It's like, awful. I blame the Post-Wiemerists and their shitty communist art."

"Where you're from Hitler is a communist?"

"Well he took his husband's name and became Adolphus Braun, but yes."

"Where you're from Hitler is a gay communist???" Thomas had to take a step back.

"What, is it not common where you're from? Still taboo?" Menckill leaned and jabbed Thomas side with the hilt of his knife.

Thomas was hyperventilating, his mask was getting fogged up.

"Listen, you seem a bit tensed up. Is this your first time journeying? Your first changing of history?" Menckill tapped the sides of Thomas' suit, accidentally opening a few compartments.

"I mean, yes." Thomas took off his helmet, revealing his pale sweaty face.

"Oh, you're a ginger." Menckill commented. "Your kind was wiped out where I'm from."

"First of all, don't call me that. Second of all... What?!" 

"Sshh..."

"Don't shoosh me!" Thomas almost screamed. The young boy in the bed was turning in his sleep.

"Okay... okay..." Thomas was using the drapes to wipe the sweat off his face. 

"Tell me exactly who you are, where and when you're from, and how you got here."

"Well well well, somebody is intrigued."

"You're damn right I am."

"Okay then, my name is Menckill Dilafrigos. I am from New Rodham in the far-off year of 1999. I came here like this..." Menckill snapped his fingers, a small flash of lightning burst from his hand, and a fraction of a second later he was holding an apple. "Why, where you're from?"

Thomas stared at the apple for a couple of seconds before answering. "I'm from New York City, in 2064. And this is absolutely insane... you're from like... a different timeline. A different course of history. Does that mean I succeeded?"

"Well, clearly not, since the kid is still alive in my 'timeline', whatever that is." Menckill seemed relax, he was scratching his butt.

"Maybe it's a sort of grandfather paradox. Like, killing my own grandfather breaks the universe and makes a new one, and you're like, from that one?" Thomas looked puzzled at the other time traveler, though he wasn't really expecting an answer.

"I doubt this kid is your grandpa, man."

"Fucking hell, I meant metaphorically, like.... if I kill Hitler, he doesn't kill millions when he's a grown up, and I have no reason to come back and kill Hitler."

"So then I come in and kill him instead. Makes sense to me."

"No! Because he still grows up in your timeline to become a shitty artist. Which means if he died at age 4 you wouldn't have a reason to go back either."

"Listen, bud, you're overcomplicating this whole thing. What I do is this: I see something I don't like, I go back, I change it. I come back home, it's gone. I have sex with my wives." Menckill gestured with his hands like it was all a simple matter to him.

"And your world isn't changed? Your friends are still there? Wait, how many people did you kill just because you didn't like them?"

"A few here and there." Menckill tossed his knife about.

"Maybe you have like... special paradox preserving powers. Maybe you isolate things in your timeline and deliver them to someplace else. Maybe you're the key! The source of time travel in my universe. Maybe all universes!" Thomas put both hands on his head, his mind spinning.

"Maybe... All I know is, you wanna kill the kid, I wanna kill the kid. So let's just do it!"

"But you, you want to kill him for bad reasons. I'm trying to save the world!"

"Fine, whatever, let's just do it together. We'll do it your way. As long as neither his paintings nor his mass murders happen, right?"

"I guess..." Thomas' hand was trembling again, he gripped the needle tightly. Menckill held his hand to stabilize it.

"3... 2... 1..." Thomas whispered and raised his arm once again.

Before he could thrust down, he was interrupted once again, this time by a woman bursting through the door.

"What?" he turned around to see a flint pistol flash in the darkness. A second later, Meckill was fallen over on the bed, his blood spilled all over it.

The young boy woke up and screamed.

"Wait! Wait! I can go, I'll leave, don't shoot!" Thomas started fiddling with his wrist control panel, setting it to travel back to 2064.

He didn't make it before a second shot fired and his lifeless body was sprawled on the floor.

"Mother?" young Adolphus asked in German, his voice shaking. "Were the bad men here to hurt me again?"

"Yes, dearie." Klara Hitler answered him with a sweet motherly voice as she blew the smoke off the barrel of the gun. "But don't worry, mommy took care of it."

She leaned in and wiped the blood off of his face with a handkerchief. "Now why don't you go get clean and then come sleep in the big bed with me and papa. The maid will clean your room in the morning."

"Okay, mama." the boy got up and went to the washing room.

Meanwhile, Klara picked up the two bodies, wrapped them around in the drapes, and dragged them down to the basement.

"Mother, are you coming?" she heard Adolphus calling up to her from upstairs.

"Just a minute!" she shouted back to him. She dumped the blood drapes in the basement. They slouched next to the pile of bodies from all of the other strange men, women, and machines who came barging into her son's bedroom ever since he was born and even before then.

"We never had two of them at the same night." she said to nobody in particular. "We'll have to move again if this continues."

"Oh well." she closed the basement's door, leaving the two fresh corpses in the dark.

[shooting-stars01]

Temptations of Time

A/N: My first fanfic ever uploaded on here.  Super nervous.  Hope you enjoy! p.s this is not canon, just a storyline that I came up with, doesn’t really have anything to do with marvel except for the characters and Asgard.  Also sorry for any mistakes.  

Synopsis: You were taken from your home when you were too little to remember the truth.  You are the last surviving royal from your home, and in an attempt to continue the royal bloodline of your family, Odin, King of Asgard, arranges a marriage between you and his son Thor.  Despite this, over the years, you have culminated a friendship w/ his brother Loki, and though you are promised to Thor, you long for something more between you and his mysterious brother.  

Pairing: Loki X Reader                                                                             

Chapter: 1/?                                                                                                

Words: 2,393                                                                                         

Warnings: None

This was a world of games and faces, and I knew that in order to survive, I was going to have to put on the best performance of my life. 

It was my job never to question.  I sat in apprehension, waiting for him to return to the courtyard, wondering why he had been whisked away so vivaciously.  I wanted to know so badly, but I knew if I pried, he would treat me with that same cold distance he did the time I had asked about his brother.  He asked me that day to never question what happened in his life when it came to his family or the throne, and I made a secret promise to myself that I would never again disappoint him.  I had hated the way his eyes had darkened and his soft smile had then turned into a sharp frown.  I vowed to never be the cause of such an expression again.  I picked a beautiful golden flower by the side of the bench I sat on, trying to distract my mind.  I touched the velvet petal, slowing plucking one from the flower, playing the old game of ‘he loves me, he loves me not”.  I was interrupted in my game, when Loki sauntered back into the courtyard.  He had been gone for what I guessed was an hour, and I could see the lines on his face that showed, to him, it had seemed an eternity.  I wanted to make it better for him, but I found that when he came back with such an expression, there was nothing I could do to help except simply sit with him and entertain whatever he wanted to speak about.  Today it seemed he wanted to sit in silence.  I went to place my hand in his to show my support, but he moved it away, which hurt me more than I thought it would.  I could see that today there was no place for me here.  I went to move, and I half expected him to try and pull me back, but he did no such thing, and instead, let me walk out of the courtyard, leaving me feeling dejected and empty.  

    I walked back to my chambers in somber silence.  I hadn’t expected that reaction from him.  Why had he come back to the courtyard, knowing that I was waiting for him there, just to treat me so coldly, not even really looking for my company?  I resigned to the thought that I would never truly be able to know the way his mind worked, and that I would never know where I stood with him, which made me feel even worse.  Near the entrance to my chambers, I saw my maid on her way to the kitchens.  She seemed in no hurry, so I stopped her to ask if she would bring some tea to my room.  She replied with a quick chirp of “Yes Mistress” and strutted off.  I needed to take my mind off of what happened, and drinking a cup of tea while reading was perfect.  I opened the door to my chambers and was instantly comforted by the strong smell of lavender.  I insisted that my room always smell of lavender because it reminded me of my home.  The only thing I could really remember about it was the strong smell of lavender, which I had learned from many books, had grown in abundance on my home and was the main trading crop, the source of its great wealth.  I closed the door behind me, trying to trap in as much of the lavender as I could, and walked over to the towering bookshelf that stood in the corner of my room.  The books that lined the shelves were some that I had collected throughout the years, but many had been gifts upon my arrival to Asgard.  As one of the only surviving royals from my home, word got around, and many came to celebrate my survival and my new promised ascension to the Asgard throne.  Odin had sworn he would keep the treaty he had started with my father, and in a show of good faith, I would be married to his eldest son, and heir to the Asgard throne, Thor.  I had no say in the matter, and at first I didn’t really care.  I hadn’t known any different, and I was too young then to understand what marriage truly meant.  As I grew older though, I found that I learned to hate this proposal, and I grew close to Thor’s brother Loki in a mutual hatred for the family that we were brought into.  It wasn’t as if I hated Thor; in fact, I had barely even spoken to him since the first few months that I had spent in Asgard.  After that we grew distant, and though one day we were said to be married, we never really found the need to seek conversation with each other.  I suppose it would have been nice if we could have built our relationship over the years, but I enjoyed the friendship I had made with Loki; in fact, I found myself hoping that Loki and I would be something more.  I realized how long I had been standing, staring at my bookshelf when my maid came over and asked if there was something wrong.  I assured her that I was fine, and took my tea from her, promptly asking her to leave.  I gave up trying to find a book, realizing that I would probably be too distracted to read anyways and decided to take my tea out to the balcony.  The sun was in its last stages of setting, and a beautiful golden glow had settled over the gardens surrounding the castle.  I could think of no greater view.  I leaned on the guardrail of the ledge and placed my face in my hand.  I watched as the sun slowly descended, thinking about all that I wanted, and all that would never come.  

    The morning brought a harsh light in through the window.  I could hear the faint chirp of the birds outside, and the smell of lavender had all but escaped out of the room, but I didn’t mind because the smell of the morning dew brought in a sense of freshness.  I didn’t want to get out of bed, but was prompted to when my maid entered, setting today’s attire on the chair near my vanity.  I looked at the oversized dress and imagined the suffocating fabric slowly slithering around my neck, choking the life out of me.  I wished that I didn’t have to dress is such constricting dresses, but King Odin always insisted that I wear clothes that represented the wealth from my home, so that people should never forget the power that I held, and where I came from.  Today’s dress was a deep blue color.  It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever laid my eyes upon, and I found myself wondering why today’s dress seemed to be so over the top luxurious.  I pulled back the satin covers to my bed and swung my feet over the side of the bed.  I looked at my pale legs, wondering why no matter how much time I spent outside, I never seemed to gain any color.  My reflection was that of a ghost as I watched myself cross over to my vanity in the large mirror resting in the corner of my room.  I watched as I was slowly transformed under my maid's hand from a simple girl into the statuesque figure of a Queen.

It was only when I opened the door to my chambers that I understood the occasion for the fancy attire.  A guard was standing with extreme vigilance outside my door, which wasn’t unnecessarily odd, but when I went to move out of my doorway his hand shot out.  Within it contained a letter.  I recognized the King’s writing on the front, and new instantly that something strange was going on.  I hardly ever had the honor of receiving council with the King, despite who I was and the fact that I was one day supposed to be the Queen.  I opened the letter with an immense sense of trepidation, hoping that it was not something terrible.  Inside it read “Your presence has been requested by the King in the Throne Room”.  These were dangerous words that could mean a continuous amount of possibilities.  Perhaps he had decided that I was no longer worth the trouble and he was going to cast me away.  Or, maybe he had decided that I would no longer marry Thor, leaving me with no claim to any throne.  I folded the letter and handed it back to the guard, who then began to move forward, signaling for me to follow as he lead me to the Throne Room.  

The halls outside the throne room seemed disenchanting today and I passed by them, desperately trying to keep up with the guard in front of me, who wasn’t weighed down my miles of fabric.  I could feel the color draining out of me as I went through every possible scenario of what was going to happen when we reached the throne room.  The floor felt slippery under my feet, and it seemed that at any minute, my legs were going to give out underneath me.  I had made a vow to myself that I would always remain strong, but it was in moments like these that I was reminded that the smallest of things could reduce me to nothing but shaking hands and nervous twitches.  We approached the doors, and two guards standing on either side opened them slowly, making my entrance into the room look much more grand than how I felt.  What I saw inside the room made me begin to quake even more.  It wasn’t a full room as I had expected it to be, but instead just contained King Odin, and few guards who stood to the side of the room.  Out of all the scenarios, I had never imagined that Odin would have wanted to speak to me in such a personal manner.  Whenever we spoke, there were usually other subjects in the room, or at least other members of his family.  I realized that this much be far more worse that I had first thought, and prepared myself for utter devastation.  

I walked into the room, trying to hold as much composure as I could, maintaining the guise of royalty and confidence.  I wanted to appear as though this was another simple day, like this didn’t frighten me at all.  Odin sat on his throne, looking like a golden statue.  His robes glinted from the light of the sun and cast a blinding shimmer into the room.  He looked magnificent, a god in his true form.  I was captivated, and almost forgot about the doom I was approaching, until I saw his face.  He looked stoic.  Nothing would break him, and he regarded me as one regards an insect, with little or no interest, ready to smash it if it gets too close for comfort.  I felt small, weak, and insignificant.  How one person could make someone feel that way by just sitting in a chair, I would never understand.  Though I suppose I would never have to if this “meeting” was going to go the way I thought it was.  I stopped in front of the stairs that led to his throne chair and fell to my knees, bowing forward until my chest hit the cold floor.  He regarded me with cold eyes until I saw him move his hand in a gesture for me to rise.  I slowly lifted myself from the ground, worried that if I made too fast of a movement, I would upset him.  The silence in the room was uncomfortable to say the least, and I felt like I was being suffocated by it, but I could do nothing but wait for the King to address me.  At last he finally opened his mouth to speak.  

“Princess y/n, you have been requested here today to speak about the arrangement that was made between yourself and my son Thor.”

I wasn’t exactly sure if he wanted me to respond to this, so I sat in silence waiting to see if he would continue.  When he didn’t, I nodded my head in a simple gesture of understanding, which seemed to suffice.  

“It was first decided that you would be married when you turned 25, which is the customary age for royals to be married from your home, and to which I agreed because I believed that it would show the true unity of the cultures of our two kingdoms, but due to certain circumstances, it has now been decided that you shall be married within the month.”

I felt a numbing sensation run throughout my body, and a sharp ringing in my ears had begun.  I didn’t know how to respond to this, and it wasn’t like anything I was going to say would change anything.  Once King Odin decided something was going to happen, it happened, no matter what.  I wanted to escape from here.  All this time, I had never truly believed that the wedding was going to happen.  It was a part of the distant future, something that I didn’t need to think about; in fact, refused to think about.  The fact that I would now, in a month, be married to a man whom I did not know made me feel suffocated.  The only person I truly had feelings for was Loki, and I had no idea where to even begin when it came to him.  I felt like I had forgotten how to breathe, but I knew that I had to say something quick, something that would make Odin believe I was happy, despite how I truly felt, so that I would not appear ungrateful for his hospitality.  

“I thank you Your Majesty for your never ending hospitality, and am delighted to hear that our Kingdoms will soon be united.”

He gave me a wave of the hand, dismissing me from the throne room, and though I wanted to bolt from the room, I held my composure.  This was a world of games and faces, and I knew that in order to survive, I was going to have to put on the best performance of my life.