#this single thought about very few characters having green hair and Freed’s name (given that Fiore’s language is English) is FREED took my💤

[robotsdeservebetter]

Do you ever just wake up and headcanon Freed Justine as Hisui E. Fiore’s lost brother?

[eskalations]

"My persona is a flirt." She whispered, lowly. With her hands wrapped around his neck, she dragged him down far enough so that she could breathe against the skin of his ear. She could feel her grin turn proud as she felt him shiver in response. "You make it more believable by leaving marks."

A set of Genderbend AU Royai One Shots

Read from the beginning (x)

A/N: Don't worry, I didn't forget about these two lovely characters! It took me a long time to figure out which scene I wanted to tackle next and this one just seemed to keep on popping up in my head. Now, I warn you - it's kind of spicy. Now there isn't anything explicit, but it's certainly enough to get the blood pumping. I don't think it's enough to warrant an "M" rating, but if it makes you uncomfortable leaving it at "T", just let me know and I'll change the rating. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

Thanks for reading! 

~

East City - Spring of 1909

Ray Hawkeye wasn't sure how it had happened, but he found that the mechanics of it mattered very little. The truth of the matter still stands – in all its guilt-ridden glory.

He had taken his father's ex-apprentice to bed.

The words made his toes curl in a less than pleasurable way from the hour before, bile rising in his throat at the thought. How could he have done this? How could he have turned his back on his promise to protect this girl against all harm that came at her? How could he be so stupid?

The answer was plain and simple – alcohol.

The war had ended earlier in the month and both he and Raina had made their way to East City. Ray had returned to the Academy to finish his training for graduation in the summer – and Raina, after a brief stay with her foster mother in Central – had decided to put in a transfer out East. Though most saw it as a dead-end position, Raina insisted she had it on very good authority, that it was the right place to get her start. Ray didn't question that.

They hadn't spoken much since the end of the war. Ray was busy with his training and Raina was busy with the responsibilities that came along with her recent promotion. Upon her arrival back from Ishval, the young woman had been given the title of 'Lieutenant Colonel' – making her the youngest soldier in history to wear that rank. While anyone else would be proud of such an honor, Raina remained relatively quiet on the matter. She accepted, but there was no happiness behind it.

All Ray could see was determination.

He knew from speaking with Maes Hughes at the end of the war that Raina had all but committed herself to reaching the seat of Fuhrer. She saw it as the only option she had to repent for all the sins she had committed in Ishval.

Ray didn't exactly know what he was going to do, but he felt he would know once he was freed from the curse written into the skin of his back.

Raina had been fighting demons that night, causing her to call out to him in the most unexpected way possible. When his superior had told him he had a call from a young woman, he had hardly believed it, unable to imagine who would be bothering to call him at such a late hour. However, when he lifted the phone to his ear, he recognized the voice instantly.

"Ray?" She had asked, her words slurred against the sound of raucous laughter in the background. From the clank of glasses and drunken shouts, he deduced she was at a bar. "Ray, are you there?"

He hadn't heard his name from her lips in so long, having gotten use to her normal address of "Hawkeye" while they had fought alongside each other in the war. There was a vulnerability in her tone that had his heart clenching in fear, as though he somehow thought she couldn't handle herself in her current state.

"Where are you?" He asked, not bothering to confirm his identity to her, knowing she would recognize his voice. The anxiety in his words were obvious as he pressed on. "Do you need me to come get you?"

There was a pause over the line. From her side, he could hear another round of laughter break out and the snap of a pool stick before she finally came back with an answer.

"Yes."

He had retrieved her from the bar, shocked at the sight that met him. She was a vision to be sure in a low cut, black sleeveless dress with a pair of heels that looked like they had been made to kill. However, it was the look in her eyes that made him pause. While she had certainly had the eyes of a killer for well over a year now, the pain he saw within those dark depths was new.

He imagined it had to have been from the alcohol.

They hadn't spoken as he walked her to the apartment she now resided in. The building was near Eastern Headquarters and just a few blocks down from the barracks where he was currently staying. He hadn't realized how close in proximity they were to each other and part of him was glad he hadn't. With the current state that they were both in, he doubted them hanging out together would do much good.

He had walked with her up the stairs and had even turned the key for her when they had made it to her door. He had intended to leave once he was sure she was safely in her room – however, it seemed the younger girl had other plans, tugging his hand and leading him into her apartment. Cautiously, he chose to follow.

Her home was nothing spectacular. From what he could see, her living area was sparse with a single green couch in its center and a fireplace against the far wall. There was an entry way that led to what must have been her kitchen and dining area with a hall on the opposite side. Certainly, these were not the plush quarters of a Lieutenant Colonel that he had been expecting. It was simple; it was minimal.

Raina had ditched her shoes at the door, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to release the tension that had settled into them. She still wobbled to the side as she made her way to the living room, but she wasn't nearly as inebriated as she had been when he first retrieved her from the bar.

Ray didn't bother removing his coat, resolute in his decision to only stay for a few minutes to make sure that she was alright.

"Want a drink?" She had asked casually, swaying her hips as she walked towards the kitchen. Her long black hair fell down her back in an intoxicating fashion – so intoxicating that Ray felt himself swallowing harshly.

This was a bad idea.

Despite every warning whistle that was going off in his head, telling him that he was playing a dangerous game, the man for whatever reason answered in the affirmative.

"Yes." The words made a smile appear on her features, though it didn't touch her eyes. Ray could still see the pain from earlier swirling in those dark depths. "But only one."

The one drink had eventually led to two, which then became three, and things slowly escalated from there.

They spoke of what they had been doing since they last saw each other. Ray shared with her the topics of his last several trainings while she spoke in return of the work she had been doing in Eastern Headquarters. At nineteen-years-old, the older soldiers respected her very little, seeing her as nothing but a flirty upstart – however, she had become quite good friends with the old General Grumman who was at the head of the region.

They both avoided the topic that they had been mulling over for the past several weeks, neither forgetting the promise they had made upon their departure from Ishval.

After throwing back his third drink, Ray reveled in the relief the alcohol provided. He had been burying himself in his studies to avoid the pain of his memories of war, but it seemed to him that Raina had been conquering them in a different fashion. She had certainly developed a tendency to drink in Ishval, something told him though that it had only gotten worse since her arrival home.

It was after this last drink that he noticed a change in Raina.

She had shared one drink with him, but was nowhere near as intoxicated anymore. He figured that after how much she had drunk in the past year, her tolerance was probably even better than his. He had a buzz at the moment but was still completely aware of his actions. Surely, he could still make rational judgements in this state.

That was until he felt a warm pair of lips on his own.

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. It was if the world had stopped and all had ceased to exist at the touch of her lips. It took him a moment to realize what was happening and that the whooshing sound that was plaguing his ears was actually the sound of his erratic heart.

Before he could respond, Raina had pulled back, her dark eyes peering into his own and waiting for a reaction. He imagined the shock he was feeling translated on to his features. There was a warmth to his cheeks that hadn't been there before and he tried to convince himself it was from the drinks.

Raina raised a brow, still waiting for a response.

"No."

His words had been sharp, despite the alcohol and despite his shock. He knew what her eyes were beseeching, though he had very little experience in that department, but he simply couldn't give into such desires. This was the girl he had vowed to protect and taking advantage of her in such a position, certainly wouldn't help him with that.

Raina pouted at his refusal. "Why not?"

"Because you're not thinking straight." He had answered, glued to his seat. His mind was telling him to run, to return to the Academy and to wait a few weeks for all of this to blow over before meeting with her again – however, his body was saying differently. Just from one touch of her lips, it was though he had fallen under a spell.

It made him uncomfortable. It made him feel out-of-control. It made him feel dirty.

"I'm thinking perfectly fine, thank you. I'm not as drunk as you think I am." She had answered, scooting closer to him on the couch. Her bare thigh was touching his own, her warmth seeping through the material of his sweatpants. "And I know you're not drunk, either. I think we are both perfectly able to make decisions for ourselves right now."

"Well I'm making the decision to say 'no'."

The words had not been the ones she wanted to hear.

"Why?" She asked, venom laced in her tone. "Because you still see me as that child who showed up on your doorstep? Because you still see me as a girl rather than a woman?"

"That's not it, Miss Mustang."

"Yes, it is!" She exclaimed, jumping from the couch to stand in front of him. She stood with hands on her hips, her black eyes piercing into his own. "If it wasn't about that, you wouldn't have just called me 'Miss Mustang'. I haven't been 'Miss Mustang' in years!"

It had been a slip of the tongue, but Ray knew better than to take it back. Maybe if he let her rage long enough, she would fall into a drunken sleep and this would all be forgotten.

"You know what the major difference between 'Miss Mustang' and I is?" She didn't give him an opportunity to answer, instead poking a shaking finger into his chest. "That girl had never killed anyone and never thought she would have to. That girl had never taken advantage of her friend's trust and used the power he gave her to murder."

Ray could tell that her anger stemmed less from his response and more towards her own actions. Behind such furious words, guilt was evident in the wavering of her tone.

Ashamed, Raina turned from him. Though the fireplace was unlit, she stared into it, as if it would give her an answer to her problems. In a show of vulnerability, she wrapped her arms around her chest, hands pressing down on her shoulders.

The sight nearly broke the young Hawkeye's heart.

Silence drifted between them, the only sound coming from outside in the hall, as a band of friends walked drunkenly past her unit. The tension in the room was thick, so thick that Ray felt even a knife couldn't slice through it. There was a charge in the air and he hated to admit what that electricity was stemming from.

Surprising even himself, Ray stood from his position on the couch. He walked without thinking towards his old housemate and turned her around to face him. Once he saw the tears streaming down her face, he knew he was a goner.

He pulled her into a tight hug, one hand drifting to the back of her head. After her initial shock had worn off, Raina responded by wrapping her arms around him, her hands meeting over the expanse of his broad back.

They both tried not to think of the ink that his shirt was hiding underneath her touch.

"Why?" He was finally able to whisper, his breath rustling the hair that laid over her left ear. The sensation sent a shiver down the young girl's spine. "Why did you ask me to come get you? Why did you ask me to come over?"

Burying her face into his jacket, she tried to hide the blush that warmed the surface of her features. "I wanted to feel something besides shame. I wanted to feel something besides guilt."

Ray pulled away from her, holding her at arm's length. While they had been tentative friends during his stay in her home, he couldn't remember a time when he had been this close to her. Even when she had studied the plane of his back, they had always been careful to remain at a reasonable distance.

But now, in the dim light of her living room, both broken from their experiences during the war, it seemed that every wall that they had ever built between them came crashing down.

Ray just had one question. Well, he actually had a million – but there was only one that was burning in the back of his mind.

"Why me?" He asked her quietly, his eyes never straying from her own. "Why would you chose me over some random guy you could have found at the bar?"

The question didn't surprise her – however, it did have her face heating up once more. When she answered though, the words came out simply, as though they were a truth he should have known all along.

"Because I trust you."

There was no hesitation in her voice, just a quiet acceptance.

The trust she put in him was surprising, especially after he had spent so long questioning his trust in her. After she had taken the secrets of his father's alchemy and had committed such heinous acts, he really began to question whether she was the girl he thought she was.

It turned out though, that he had a monster living inside him as well.

He couldn't fault her for falling into the military propaganda in Ishval when he had done exactly the same. She wasn't the only one with blood on her hands – in fact, he had killed so many in Ishval that he was being given the 'honor' of graduating and gaining an instant promotion to second lieutenant upon his entrance into the State Military.

He was just as guilty as her as far as he was concerned. They had both committed war crimes and both deserved to be punished somewhere down the road.

For now, he couldn't deny that he too had been seeking some kind of validation for being alive other than the constant pain and guilt he felt. He had begun to wonder whether he had died back on the battlefield and his body now continued on in an endless loop of time. It was so hard to get a grasp of reality when all you seemed to do was live in the past.

It was that kind of thinking that got him moving.

After little hesitation, Ray leaned forward to place a soft kiss on the plump surface of his companion's lips. He could feel her surprise, even with his eyes tightly closed – however, she soon responded, her arms coming up from around his waist, to wrap around his neck.

He kissed her gently several times, allowing all the affection he felt for her to pour into his actions. Though he could feel Raina's own eagerness, she responded to the ministrations in kind, letting her fingers play with the ends of the dirty blonde hair that rested against the skin of his neck.

"I don't want to take advantage of you." Ray murmured against her lips, pulling back momentarily to catch his breath. Raina was breathing heavily as he leaned his forehead against her's. "I don't ever want to hurt you."

His honest words had a smile appearing on her lips, this one finally reaching her eyes as she unwrapped one of her hands from his neck and placed it on his cheek. Their eyes met and in that moment, Ray knew he was gone.

"This is what I want."

Her words weren't slurred and her actions were as sober as they could be after the one drink she had partaken in earlier that hour. This confirmation was all his body needed to jump into action, even with his brain still telling him to stop.

The truth was…he wanted this, too.

His lips descended on her's once more, gently pressing against the smile on her mouth. They stood there for a few moments, reveling in the gentle kiss, arms wrapped around the other before progressing any further.

Just as she usually did, Raina commanded the situation. While keeping the kiss soft, she sighed in invitation, allowing him access to the contours of her mouth. He hesitated for a moment, struck by her boldness, before tentatively sticking his tongue through the slit of her lips. The girl moaned in approval, her own tongue reaching out to dance with his.

As the kiss became more heated, Raina found herself pressing closer to Ray's chest. The hand at the back of his head now tugged roughly at his hair, causing him to grunt in pain, though he didn't break away from her lips. The sound itself sent a shiver down her spine and had an unknown heat pooling at the bottom of her belly.

They were all feverish limbs as they made their way to the single bedroom in the apartment. Neither bothered to turn on the lights, the moonlight pouring through the window enough to guide their hasty actions.

Though their movements were heated, Ray laid Raina down on the comforter with a gentleness that spoke of years of hidden affection. She could see the emotions behind his eyes as he hovered over her, his lips swollen from the kisses they had shared earlier. His expression was so soft, it had her eyes closing in shame.

She truly didn't deserve such a gaze.

Tilting her head back, she led him right where she wanted him. In the lonely nights she had spent in Ishval, she had always imagined what it would be like to have his lips on her neck. Now, she was determined to find out.

"I don't want to leave marks." He wheezed, his breathing heavy from restrained desire. She could tell he was making an effort to go slow for her, unsure of her reaction to the experience.

The woman simply smiled in response.

"My persona is a flirt." She whispered, lowly. With her hands wrapped around his neck, she dragged him down far enough so that she could breathe against the skin of his ear. She could feel her grin turn proud as she felt him shiver in response. "You make it more believable by leaving marks."

The alcohol still coursing through his veins took that as a good enough reason to proceed.

At the first touch of his lips against the tender flesh of her neck, Raina closed her eyes in bliss. He started by leaving small, wet kisses against the skin, before following them up with a puff of air that had her toes curling over the edge of the bed. She couldn't hold back the breathy sigh that left her lips once he paused to suck at the particularly sensitive flesh over her pulse point.

Though she expected the act to be rough, he sucked gently, still pouring every ounce of affection he had for her into every heated movement.

After pulling a bit too roughly with his teeth, Raina let out a moan, which had the man lapping at the faint marks he had left behind on the pale surface of her neck. The bite had been gentle, Ray still fearful to try anything too extreme, not knowing the girl's preferences when it came to bedroom activities, but Raina didn't seem to mind. In fact, she pulled his face closer to her neck, her quickened breath practically begging him to continue.

He continued these ministrations for a few minutes, remaining careful in his actions, until Raina had decided she had enough of following his lead. He couldn't remember how, but at some point, she had rolled him over and on to his back, her legs straddled on either side of him, and her own lips attacking his neck.

Ray hissed at the pressure he now had on his lap, trying hard not to give in to the animalistic urges that threatened to make their way to the surface. His breathing became harder as she began to unbutton his shirt, her kisses drifting down the planes of his abdomen and causing the muscles to contract.

Maybe he had been right all along. Maybe he had died in Ishval and somehow found his way to heaven.

In a whirl of limbs and scattered clothes, the two found themselves bared to each other, the moonlight the only other witness to their act of desperation. They had both said they wanted to feel something and now they were getting the opportunity to provide that validation to the other.

Ray was gentle as he pushed forward, but became concerned as he saw the pain etched on his childhood friend's features. After a few minutes, though, she seemed to find herself lost in their closeness and thoroughly enjoying the act of making love to one another. Finally, she wasn't only feeling grief and guilt, she was feeling pleasure.

As they both came undone, their teeth clenched in an attempt to keep quiet in case Raina's neighbors were listening in, their sweat slicked bodies automatically clinged to the other.

Just like magnets.

Although he enjoyed the actions in the moment, it wasn't until after it was all said and done, that the guilt finally replaced the heat at the bottom of his stomach. With Raina curled against his chest, he couldn't help but hate himself at reveling in such actions.

He had tainted her once again.

It wasn't enough that he had given her a powerful alchemy at too young of an age, but now he had also taken the last ounce of innocence she had if the blood on the bedsheets was any indication.

In the aftermath, Ray found that his breathing still would not slow. Though Raina was relaxed in his grasp, a peaceful expression alight on her features underneath the sweat soaked bangs of her forehead, such peace would not find him in this situation.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The room had been silent for several minutes, the only sound being that of their gentle breathing. Raina looked up at him, her dark, tired eyes staring curiously into his.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice was deep, the remnants of passion still lingering in her tone as she reached a hand up to lay on his cheek. "What did I not tell you?"

"That I was your first."

The words caused a blush to develop on the girl's exotic features, bringing forth more bashful a reaction than the act they had been partaking in just minutes before. "I thought you knew."

Her words were honest, so Ray had no reason to suspect deception. Sighing, his breath fanning over the bare skin of her shoulder and causing her to shuffle closer, Ray fought the urge to dig his nails into her side in frustration with himself.

Of course, he should have known.

Despite Raina's bold personality and naturally flirty nature, he had never seen her come close to a man in any intimate fashion. The only man she seemed to spend any amount of time with alone had been Hughes and everyone knew that Hughes' heart belonged to another. With how young she was when she joined the military, he guessed he should have assumed that she was not as experienced between the sheets as she appeared.

However, with the way the recruits that he bunked with at the Academy acted, he had suspected that her experience during training was similar. He figured with her extroverted nature and rather alluring features, she had had no trouble at all finding men to keep her company during her time at basic training.

He guessed he was being a bit of a hypocrite.

"You were my first, too."

The words were so quiet that, for a moment, Raina wasn't even sure she had heard him. In the pale moonlight, she searched his features, looking for any sign of jest. She saw none.

"Really?" She couldn't hide the surprise in her voice, her arm finding its way to his chest so that she could rest her chin against the back of her hand. "I would have thought you would have gotten plenty of experience in the Academy."

The man gave her a wry grin; his thoughts having been the same in regards to her. "I guess we were both wrong in our assumptions then."

Raina smiled in return, her cheek resting against the skin of her hand. The look she gave him was so affectionate that it sent his heart into another round of palpitations. His guilt still weighed heavily on his mind though.

"I hate that you wasted your first time on a lecherous man like me."

Raina's brows furrowed at the term. "Lecherous? You're four years my senior – that's practically nothing when you consider we're both adults."

Ray knew he was being ridiculous pulling the age card – however, it still didn't sit right with him. "I just hate that I took your last piece of innocence from you."

Raina huffed, sitting up so that her face was level with his. Ever the bold one, the young woman didn't even attempt to hide the sight of her unbound chest from him. Ray fought to keep his eyes locked on her's, refusing to gaze upon her in a disrespectful manner after what she had given to him.

"Ray Hawkeye," The young woman poked her hand to his chest, the accusation clear in her tone. "I chose to give this part of myself to you. You took nothing that I wasn't willing to give. If anyone should feel guilty, it should be me. I had no idea that I was taking the same thing from you."

Ray wouldn't have her feeling any remorse on his part. "Don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't have given this to you unless I wanted to. Even though I feel guilty over the whole thing, I don't feel regret for anything I've given you."

"Not even Flame Alchemy?"

Well…

"No," He finally answered. He gazed up into Raina's deep black eyes, his words brooking no room for argument. "You are the only person in the world that I trust enough to share that with and I know you will repent for what was done in Ishval. Once you burn my back, we will no longer have to worry about the evil that Flame Alchemy can cause."

Raina grimaced at the mention of their promise. She sunk back to his chest, her chin resting on her hand once more. Unlike before, her eyes averted from his gaze.

"You promised," He reminded her, bringing a hand up to brush a few errant strands of dark hair away from her forehead. Her eyes still wouldn't meet his. "Once I've graduated, I want you to hold up your end of the deal. I want you to set me free from my burden."

"You'll hate me," Raina muttered quietly, staring at the crisp white sheets wedged between their bodies. "I'm glad I had this moment with you, because I doubt you'll ever be able to look at me the same again."

"That's not true," Ray assured her, pulling her in closer. His actions caused her to glance up, her eyes finally meeting his own. "I could never hate you. I tried – oh, trust me, I tried. When I found out what you were doing in Ishval, I wanted to hate you – but I couldn't. It turns out, you're just as human as the rest of us."

This did little to help quell her fears. All she could think of is the smell of burning flesh and the fear that would grip her heart knowing that it was his. They still had a few weeks before he graduated and Raina hoped it was time enough to get him to change his mind.

"This can't happen again."

His words brought her back from her thoughts, fear gripping her heart for another reason entirely.

"What do you mean?" She heard herself ask, but it was almost as if she was listening in on a conversation from far away. Though she knew what he was going to say, it didn't help her increasing heart rate or the nervous sweat that broke out over her skin.

"We can't have an intimate relationship with each other," Ray clarified, back to his usual blunt way of wording things. "Once I've graduated, this will become fraternization. If you plan on one day becoming Fuhrer, the last thing you need is a court martial on your record."

"So you have decided to stay in the military?" Raina asked, knowing that before they had left Ishval, Ray had begun to question his path in life. She knew he had always wanted to become an engineer and she found herself secretly hoping that he would still pursue that career at some point in the future.

"Not yet." Ray admitted, his eyes narrowing pensively as he stared at the ceiling. "But you're not the only one who needs to repent, so I think I will likely follow in your footsteps."

"Just as you did before."

Ray smiled, though it held no humor. "Yes, just as I did before."

"You know," Raina's brows rose, her hand guiding his chin so that he was once more looking at her. "That didn't work out so well the first time."

"It didn't." He admitted, placing his hand over her's where it lay on his cheek. "But I have a promise to live up to as well."

Raina couldn't help but think that one day these promises were going to be the death of them.

"Hm, we'll see."

[blankdblank]

Hearts and Handles - Richard Request

Tags –

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars

X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

…

Deepestfirefun:

You are fanfiction writer and huge fan of RA but what you don´t know is that Richard has been reading your writings and is impressed by your vivid and wild imagination kind of hoping to get to meet you one day. When he is promoting his newest film, the lodge he sees a familiar looking young woman on the front row and can´t stop grinning when he realizes it is the same woman whose writings he has been reading and so when it´s time to take photos with the fans he gets his chance to finally meet you

…

“Fuck. I just need a bath and a bed…” The thought making the tall Brit groan as he settled into his seat on the plane. For weeks now he had been bounced from one place to another, but finally in Paris he would be granted a reprieve. A break from the cameras and time to just slip unseen through the celeb friendly cities allowing him some semblance of privacy before being drug back into the press storm to promote his latest flic. The Lodge, words emblazoned into his mind at the lit up posters and signs flashing bearing his name under the title for each appearance drawing thousands in line to simply see the man they hoped to see in this unwitnessed thriller bearing their love from dozens of roles prior.

Wetting his lips he grinned easing his leather bound journal across his lap bearing a secret inside. For years now he’d been following the writings of a fanfiction author online, and in all his travels and flights he’d taken to printing out copies to paste inside his journals. This one especially bearing the latest series you had started. One on Francis, a challenging role for him, and your time warp adaptation of him had even left the hair on his arms standing up in the spine tingling tale about being the killers prey turned possession.

From both the killer’s view and the prey’s his heart pounded furiously uncertain how you would end this story just barely into its tenth chapter marking the order of the prey to move into his home to keep the men trying to claim her virtue for themselves. Based in the time of Jack the Ripper, the rival of Hannibal, a member of the discrete killing club Francis frequented. The killers having to band together as Francis lays his claim over his prey, who even to that point bore a private mark, a common mark in your writings but no less shocking each time used, a small heart shaped birthmark on her stomach, unknowingly also on the stomach of the killer watching over her.

The full flight from New York to Paris he bit his lip and gripped his knees and arm rests reading through that series and the other time shifted versions of his other characters making his heart soar as even the foulest of them revealed a glimmer of greatness in them. If only for a fleeting moment, such as Guy as he went down in a raze of bullets in a Bonnie and Clyde esque series with his Sister to fend off the menace crime boss Robin and his band of green clad thugs. 

Each story parted with a print out of the pictures of yourself you had posted, most with odd faces aimed at the camera in varying forms of pajamas, blankets and comfy layers making him wish he was there to hold you and listen to your incredible stories. But always his eyes would linger on the beaming smile under the pooling dark curls spilling over your purple eyes and that adorable freckle just barely out of the corner of your right eye.

The landing gear dropped and he sighed, thankful he was able to finish the latest chapter of the Hannibal/Ripper series once more before tucking his journal away. Wetting his lips he was unable to hide his smirk knowing that it was your usual day that you would post the next chapter in the series only building up his anticipation wondering just what you would send the group through in this part. Or if Francis would gain the right to claim a single hold of his prey’s hand willingly. The ache for his character’s loss of contact with his soulmate only made his wish he could meet you grow greater.

A few hints were given to where you lived, a few terms here and there made him imagine you were close, while a few pictures you had posted pointed to your travels due to work, simply stated as a writer, of sorts. Anonymously he had asked learning you were not a journalist, merely more of a ‘commentator on life’, as you had worded it, whatever that meant. But it surely had improved your drawing talents in the years he had followed you turning him to believe you might be a cartoonist possibly. Again he sighed straightening up in his seat trying to force back the continued hope you just might appear at this event along with his imagined sighting of you earlier on his way to boarding the plane. At least until a stranger stumbled nearly into his lap.

…

“At least I didn’t miss my plane.” That thought kept rolling through your mind as you huffed smoothing your fingers through your freshly knotted long curly hair that had been wrung out just outside the airport you had entered to get to your flight across the pond to this highly anticipated and very much needed vacation of sorts.

The past few months had been rough and in a drastic shift in work and the loss of a few less than supportive so called friends, you were out here to go invisible and observe. Work, with the new hires your manager had so graciously plopped the watching of onto you, had your voice worn painfully thin each day. Greatly diminishing your supply of favorite teas to soothe your frazzled nerves and vocal chords before you fell so far from graciously into any surface hard or soft nearby to get as much sleep as possible before the next go round.

Another knot had been freed and you filed off the plane almost falling into the lap of one giant avoiding the stretching arms of another. The stolen brush of your thigh in supporting your rise would have to be forgiven as your hand had nearly crashed into the man’s groin to catch yourself. Thankfully landing on a firm thigh while his shoulder caught your wave of curls washing over it earning a startled yet amused chuckle from the faceless stranger you promptly fled the sight of after your unwilling release of a startled squeaked out apology. Your hand fixed tighter on your satchel bearing your hours of notes for your writings and sketches for another project at work coming up you forced yourself not to release until it was over your shoulder again.

.

Over his shoulder after a glance at the man across from him stretching he caught sight of a set of dark curls making his heart clench as his eyes slid to the aqua colored polish on the well trimmed nails bearing dots marking a trail to a small crystal ladybug on the pinky fingers peeking out from under her long maroon sleeves falling over her palms wrinkled badly at fiddling with them no doubt. Around the arm she wove but must have rolled her ankle sending her nearly into his lap. Firmly her hand planted on his thigh drawing an awkward chuckle from the actor in his frozen state as the silky vanilla scented curls slid over his shoulder. 

The momentary stumble was righted at the adorable squeaked apology widening his grin recognizing the embarrassed squeak from one of your formerly posted reaction videos to art a fan had made for one of your stories.

But within a moment of his hand planting on your thigh to help shift you onto your feet again after his deeming cupping your hip would be too intimate at the exposed strip of skin above the waistband of your jeans, you were rushing off the plane leaving him to hope he could catch you at the baggage claim.

Anxiously he sat until his turn to get off, eagerly he moved until he had to withhold his groan at the guards he was enforced to use by the film team ensuring his safe arrival and travel between locations greatly slowing his race after you. Right away he spotted what he took as his bag for the guard to grab freeing him to look around the room for any sign of you. And sure enough across the carousel there you stood, with a eerily similar bag at your side, right on the way to him. “Shit, shit, shit…What am I going to say?!”

..

Bouncing on your toes you tried to read the signs for the right way to go absolutely hating the double checking pattern of your glances from your ticket stub to confirm which way to go that drew a less than friendly guard over to move you along. But sure enough here you stood staring along with the masses at the empty baggage carousel as you heard a wave of people coming up behind you into the empty hall.

A slot opened snapping you from your thoughts and one by one you eyed the bags until a large silver suitcase came into view with a soon blocked sketch of a dragon along the edge of it to remind your easily fumbling self in rushed situations surrounded by people which bag your hand had to latch onto. Hoping you wouldn’t just get drug around like an idiot. Sure enough your hand latched on. But with the shoulder of a man on a phone crashing into your side the luggage tag tore free and you stood there unable to say anything but stare at it dumbly while your mind muttered, “fuck…”

Peering upwards again, there it went, off into the circular void as you mentally tried to boost yourself up for attempt number two as the crowds arrived. Around the corner it went as you spotted an identical bag, somehow also with a sketch on the side, making you peer at your tag confirming you hadn’t lost your mind. Looking over again you spotted your taggless bag being pointed at by the same black leather sleeve bearing arm that had helped you up straight again pointing at your bag for a guard to collect and add to a luggage cart. The arm itself belonging to none other than Richard Armitage. “Double fuck…”

He grabbed your bag moving it from the guard to the cart and you promptly grabbed the double trying not to imagine him opening your bag seeing your far from homely undergarments you had chosen to bring, just to at least wear them once and have them as you confidence boosters that you and you alone would see.

“No, don’t think about that..” that could only lead to more heated imaginings of what would happen next. No, you grabbed the doppelganger and wove through the crowd to be blocked by a trio of nearly seven foot tall living cinderblocks glaring down at you as you flashed them a timid smile.

“I think he grabbed my bag by mistake.” You flashed your torn luggage tag only to see the actor himself, who had watched your approach, step closer with your bag at his side and a curious grin spreading on his face contrasting his racing heart. “Purple eyes…It’s got to be her…”

In an amused purr at your ragged inhale trying to keep your eyes on his, he asked, “How can you be certain it’s yours and not another unfortunate tag bearing strangers?”

Your brow ticked up as your eyes fell to the bag trying to think of anything unique far from the lingerie you had packed with only one thing coming to mind. Your lips parted only to have your eyes fall on the group of actors looking on with amused grins. Somehow the notion of being the center of their private joke you lost your nerve to voice what it held aloud to all of them, knowing it was bad enough to admit it to the man in front of you. “Oh fuck. Too far..” At your response his expression dulled and he instantly regretted putting you on the spot and nearly eased the bag over to you anyways until he caught your determined flicker in your eyes as you gave him a two finger wag calling him down to your height. “Or not..”

Unable to help it he smirked again leaning forward feeling his inner child jumping for joy at the remembrance of his love for sharing secrets then darting away to safety. What you described seemed innocent enough, a journal with formerly blank back, though the object of your embarrassment was clearly the image you had sketched across the back of it. Shifting from the place just inches from your very kissable lips he moved to unzip the top pouch watching your hand rise to curl your knuckles across your lips almost making him chuckle at the sight of it resembling his favored sheepish and anxious pose of yours until he caught a full glance at what you had created on the journal in his hands.

Proudly Francis Dolarhyde stood bare to the world with a small mirror in hand, aimed over his shoulder at his dragon tattoo reflected on the unseen tall mirror at the edge of the sketch. While his bare front was exposed in a stunning reflection across the stormy view over his vast lands with only a small shadowy group of trees covering his groin just barely below the iconic heart birthmark. Each detail staggering in the black and grey lifelike portrait bearing a near smirk across the scarred lip of the savage killer peering in at his full colored tattoo.

Straightened up again Richard felt his bag ease against his leg from your gentle nudging of it closer to him and he sealed the pocket to pass yours back to you, now knowing he knew full well who you were as your brushed your curls back behind your ear exposing your iconic freckle. His next question rumbled out only to confirm it, “You don’t want me to sign it?” He rumbled out in a purr grinning at your creeping blush.

Your head shook and you claimed the journal he almost reluctantly handed over at the curiosity for what was inside it. Pressing the image to your chest folding an arm over it, you replied, “No, thank you. My, cousin tucked it in there before I left, obviously. To have you sign it would only encourage her bad behavior.”

“And there it is. The fabled imagined cousin to take the blame for all your bad behavior.” At the thought rolling through his head as to just what else you had used this ‘cousin’ to excuse he grinned wider catching your wish to flee in your glance for a clear path then back to him as he asked, “I do have to ask though. Why is he fully naked?”

Instantly your fear was gone and a glint of a challenge flashed in your eyes triggering his grin even wider at you fired back, “Oh don’t even blame me, Mr I’m suddenly immune to wearing pants in my films and shows!”

A flat out laugh left the actor triggering his eyes to drop over you in your somehow now cocky stance in front of him nipping at his lip. “Oh, this is perfect.” His teeth freed his lip as he readied to do the unthinkable, attempt to gain your contact info.

A call from behind him from the guards drew his eyes off you for just a moment, but that was all it took. You were off through the crowds again towards the waiting line of taxis, with one driver all too eager to help you with your bag up into the boot and easing the door shut behind you when you had eased through the door he had opened for you. His smile holding as you stated the lavish hotel you were guaranteed a room in for your stay.

For these brief excursions you were grateful to be caught in a 200 year old rivalry as both sides of your family fought to win over the younger generations leading to pampering. Lavish rooms in unspeakably lavish hotels from your grandfather’s brother included along with the trip to the shows you were granted tickets from your grandmothers cousin with a few other stops along the way to add to the sweet deal.

.

Through the streets you watched Paris growing and bustling around you until you were parked at the front entrance with a pair of men hustling over, one to open your door as you handed the bills to the driver and the other to collect your bag for you. Instantly when they spotted you in your move to straighten your shirt over your sides they caught the resemblance to the owner and smiled back when you gave them a returned “hello.”

After them you entered the lobby through the door they opened and walked straight to the eager manager already holding your room packet at the end ready to lead you up to your room after your long flight.

The full ride up to the fourth floor from the top he chatted about how glad he was to have you under their care again. Then he broke into a full recap of all the new exhibits and shows in town for you to experience if you wished as well as a confirmation that he would expedite your delivery person for your Chinese food order. Greatly improving your wait from the first stay out here where you had to go down and fetch it yourself to complete your relaxing pattern of eating through at random movie until you felt yourself unable to hold off sleep anymore.

A final grin was shared as he left you halfway ready to pass out from him draining all the air from the room at his long winded flurry of a welcome. Sure you appreciated it but as the relative of the owner and not anyone overly special past that you felt a bit unworthy but no less ungrateful for his special attentions to your needs in your stay. With a sigh you left your bag by the bed and you sat down finally releasing the label crumpled in your curled fingers.

…

“Fuck…Where did she go?” Richard’s eyes scanned over the crowds and he bit his lip again nodding as he turned to follow the guard urging him on to the waiting vans outside. His only glimmer of happiness being his hand holding the handle just moments before being held by you. The single contact with the fabric middle man eased a smirk onto his lips as his flickering hope that you would cross paths again returned again.

Upwards his eyes scanned over the lavish hotel in his path out of the van then lower to the waiting group of men gathering their bags to follow them to the counters to fetch their keys to the rooms on the top four floors. A chime from his pocket made him draw out his phone and grin at the message from Hugh Dancy that him and Mads were on their way over to his hotel to spend the evening with him before they had to take the train out to another event short notice leaving flying out of the question as they were still recovering form the jet lag from their last five flights in the past two weeks.

All the way up to his room he stood quietly letting his cast mates banter with the manager until he was freed to ease into his suite and let out his irritated sigh at losing you so suddenly. Grumbling his inner argument with himself for not racing after you he rolled his bag into his room leaving it in the closet, hastily typing the room number and firing it off in his drop to sit then lay back across his bed only to groan again and rub his face recounting each moment with you while the spot on his thigh you had touched all but burned reminding him of your hands place there.

…

Three knocks sounded after a set of chuckles as the bantering actors stood outside the hotel door awaiting their friend only to fall silent and lower their gazes to the barefoot sweater and flannel short clad woman widely peering up at them both mumbling, “You’re, not food…”

Unable to help it at your puzzled purple gaze Mads chuckled and purred back, “I sure hope not. Though with those eyes I am certain you could convince me.”

His hope for a chuckle or a grin only made you inhale then glance at Hugh as he furrowed his brows rereading the message mumbling, “745…” His finger tapped Richard’s icon and he raised the phone to his ear as your bill holding hand was curled to your middle and covered by your other hand gently stroking the skin along your fingers at your nerves. “What is your room number?” He nodded then said, “Ah, you typed it wrong.”

Mad’s eyes narrowed as he watched you brush your curls from your face exposing your freckle, “I know you.” His finger wagged in the air as he tried to place it.

Softly you mumbled, “I, don’t think we’ve met.”

Hugh wet his lips saying, “Be up in a moment.”

He hung up then watched as Mads drew out his phone. “Could I take a picture with you?”

Blankly you nodded and the pair folded around you, with Hugh being sure to block your room number with his hand saying, “Big smile.”

You forced a beaming grin out instantly clicking where they knew you from as they eyed it on the phone screen holding their grins when they eased back and Mads added, “I’ll post this, you can save it from there, ok?”

You nodded then eyed the elevator and bit your lip sealing Mad’s sneaking another picture of your reaction before you mumbled, “Food.” The delivery guy walked up with a grin at you and the actors as you waved at them saying, “Nice to meet you.”

They both nodded and Hugh chuckled out as he stepped onto the elevator, “I’m certain we’ll be seeing one another again very soon.” Your brow ticked up as the doors closed, only to drop as you accepted your bag of food and the drink, pay the delivery guy who then turned to wait for the elevator to open again after he hit the button when you closed the door to your room. Curiously you set the food out on a towel at the foot of your bed in front of the screen only to turn your head to your phone on the night table charging as the screen lit up again and again.

.

In the elevator Hugh glanced over Mad’s shoulder asking, “You didn’t?!” Mads chuckled pocketing his phone after posting the image with the caption of ‘In the mood for a good Hannibal thriller? I know where you can find a few.’ with your username tagged after it to your story page on Tumblr.

Through the doors he passed and followed Hugh to Richard’s actual hotel room where the brit opened the door right away with a grin asking, “Order in or are we heading out?”

After they settled on a place they led Richard back onto the elevator and Hugh blurted out, “You are not going to guess who we ran into downstairs.” Mads flashed him the picture making his lips part.

Richard, “You saw her? Downstairs? In the lobby?”

They shook their heads and Richard glanced at the picture again then muttered, “The room number I sent you..”

Mads nodded and Hugh answered, “She was waiting on dinner herself.”

Mads, “Had she not we’d have invited her along.”

Hugh, “Perhaps you could send up a dessert later.”

Richard rolled his eyes, “We didn’t even trade names.”

Their heads went to him and they both asked, “You’ve met?!”

Richard gave a brief recap about the luggage and your darting off finishing with, “She was just gone. She didn’t mention why she was in town, did she?”

Hugh shook his head and Mads answered, “Not a clue, but, you can ask in a note with dessert.”

Richard chuckled shaking his head, “I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. Just showing up at her room uninvited without even trading names.”

Hugh wet his lips, “We’ll think of something.”

Mads, “No doubt she might assume it was you. We show up at her room and not long after are photographed out to eat with you. Two and two, Rich.”

Richard chuckled, “Well we are in the same hotel, no doubt if I lose my resolve I could always sent a note or something.” The pair grinned settling on their plan of nudging their friend over the edge of deciding on giving your door a knock of his own.

..

After an hour you had to turn your alert off for Tumblr and were thankful for the private email used solely for your account racking up with notices on the thousands of followers you had jumped in the first hour alone from your pitiful twenty seven with countless notes on the hundreds of series and stand alone stories you had posted and organized in the masterlist you had reblogged just that morning with a message about being traveling again warning your lull in posts. 

Wetting your lips you set aside your phone feeling a yawn creeping on as you put up your left over food and turned out the lights to climb onto bed and curl up in the blanket you had brought from home feeling your eyes drop shut. A low sigh left you in your drift off to sleep to soak in the rest you could get before your morning of wandering before the afternoon trip to the theater where you had gotten a ticket to see the very man you had fallen onto earlier that day. The one now weighing heavily in your dreams both I and out of character.

.

A nervous wreck you eased into your seat joining the countless other fans in the audience keeping busy, jotting down a few ideas in your pocket journal while others around you either spoke or read from their books and phones. For nearly an hour as the audience filed in and the final touches were set you waited keeping yourself busy working out the dialog for the next series you were starting to flush out in a rare Loki centered tale. Though a man walked onto the stage stirring all to fall silent and shift their attentions to the actors filing onto the stage when introduced.

“There you are.” In the front row of the audience Richard’s eyes settled as he stepped around his arm chair and lowered feeling a wide grin settling onto his face at the instant he spotted you five chairs in, just barely off to his right. Anxiously Richard’s tongue darted out at your knuckles curling over your lips hiding the sheepish grin matching that blush coating your cheeks at his constant eye contact with you between the clips from the film, director’s comments all up to the audience questions. 

One by one those who wished to got the chance at the mic from the back to the front. Each one worsening the anticipation as to what you could possibly have in mind to ask him. “Please ask me something. Anything. Just don’t pick anyone but me.” His every glance at you a silent plea “No teasing now. Pick me.”

Wetting your lips you grinned at the woman beside you as she handed the mic over. You fidgeted your grip around the stem of it spoting the brit shifting excitedly in his seat as the camera shifted to center you in the frame. With another scanning over the cast then centering onto Richard with a partially focused narrowed gaze at you, unwilling to miss a single detail of your question at your stating, “My question is for Richard.”

He nodded and eased his fingers around his own microphone wetting his lips again while you softly inhaled then asked, “You had mentioned you mentally build your characters, but do you add anything physical.” His brow inched up as you added, “Past muscular bulk or growing and shaving your beard and hair, to make each unique?”

Raising his mic he couldn’t help but lowly ask, “Like what?”

After a weak chuckle you answered as calmly as you could through his damn near sparkling intent gaze locked onto you making your heart race even faster, “Like a hidden freckle or scar or birth mark, something the audience doesn’t necessarily see but it makes the character whole for you.”

He smirks, “Well, Guy had his hidden tattoo until its reveal.” He wet his lips again, “Thorin had this blue geometric mark on his arm, just for me, under all the padding.” After a momentary tilt of his head he continued, “I am curious why you would ask about that in particular, especially the birthmark part. Do you have an unusual birthmark?”

There, he’d finally asked his burning question he’d been aching to know for years now, your fascination with the mark, “I have a heart near my belly button.”

With brows raised he forms a heart with his hands, “A heart?” You nod and he lowers his hands and shifts the mic back towards his mouth through the crowd’s reactions to ask through a curious chuckle, “Is that a family thing, it would be interesting to see if it gets passed down.” With a follow up question he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Do you have any children?” “Shit..”

At the momentary flicker of a drop in his expression only to inch back at your amused smirk when you were unable to help but ask, “No. Are you offering?” He blushed and laughs awkwardly through the raucous reaction in the audience and loud laughter from the cast around him as he smoothed his free hand over his mouth and beard, “You left the door wide open on that one, and with your eyes and my mark it’d be one adorable baby.”

“My eyes… yours are purple!”

You shrug at him with a grin, “I only get to see mine in the mirror, if I could see them myself they might be more appealing, but from here yours are just dazzling.” You pass the mic to the next person holding your playful smile up at him as he sits with his mouth open for a moment in shock still from your teasing offer. “You little tease..”

The woman drew his eyes to her as she asked him her own question when the noise died down again. Though hers was a far more serious conversation with the actor who even drew a couple of the other cast members in to confirm his answer. The final few people got to ask their questions while he continued to steal glances at you until he was forced up out of his chair, thankful that it would only be a few more minutes until the fan photo portion would begin. Unlike the usual rope lined path you would pass through the halls around the theater eyeing the décor and enjoying the snacks provided until you reached the actors at the main hall before you were escorted out.

Again it was from the back to the front so you got a very good look at all there was to see until you finally got to the group of actors who all grouped around you and Richard for your own group photo and then stood out of the frame holding up hearts they doodled onto spare sheets of paper in their wait around you both. When you got your camera back you rolled your eyes blushing and turned to walk off as they chuckled through the final group of women moving forward for their turns. There wasn’t much time for talking past Richard’s warning that he tried to keep them from their joke leaving you to feel a bit empty after such animated snippets of conversations with the amazing man. Another taxi ride later you were welcomed back into the lobby where you eyed the manager approaching you with a grin and stopped in front of you, “There was a delivery for you earlier.”

“A delivery?”

He nodded, “Flowers. Quite a dazzling bouquet while you were out. I left them on the table in your room myself.”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

He grinned and nodded then trotted back to his station while you walked to the elevator puzzled at who would send you flowers. “Can’t be…” Wetting your lips you stood eyeing the floor number rise tapping your nails along the rail you were holding behind you counting down until you were freed into the hall. A few doors down you unlocked your door and stepped inside only to draw your foot back at the shift of paper under your foot. Curiously you bent to pick it up and switched on the lights grinning at the envelope as you flipped it over and opened it to draw out the note inside.

The simple note almost made you scream when you read,

“Up for some ice cream?

I’ll be in the lobby at ten until half past.

Feel free to decline if you wish.

Hope you like orchids.

- Richard”

With your ridiculously large grin you squeaked when you walked through the hotel room and found the large bouquet of Delphinium and plain white orchids in a tall glass vase. Biting your lip you reached into your pocket noting the time and rushed to double check your reflection before squeaking at the bouquet again then made your way down again in a steady pace to be just a couple minutes late.

.

“She’ll show. She will.” Richard again smoothed his hands together grateful for the drivers that brought him back promptly allowing him time to freshen up before going down to wait in the lobby, hoping you would come down before any of the staff had the chance to come and ask him why he was waiting. The ding of the elevator caused him to turn and his cheeks rose when he saw you exit and then cross to him, avoiding a couple along the way in your path. Even out of your sight you could feel the eyes of the manager on you with a grin of his own at the actor’s sheepish turn to guide you towards the doors and stealing a glance as if to ensure you were still intending on joining him.

A few feet from the hotel in the warm evening air Richard glanced down at you pleased at the emptying streets as the next round of shows and distractions opened for those waiting along the sidewalks. “I hope the crew didn’t embarrass you with the doodles.”

With a weak chuckle you glanced up to catch his grin at you, “Well I did ask you on camera if you were offering to father my child. So, sort of fair.”

He chuckled lowly and nipped at his lip peering around then released it to say, “Far from fair. I did, as awkward as it is, wish to thank you for coming. I was a bit afraid you wouldn’t show.”

“Why is that?”

“I have terrible luck with getting dates.” Wetting his lips he eyed your curious glance up at him showing no argument against the notion of a date with him and felt a surge of confidence enough to add, “If you would agree to one with me. I know a great place to eat if you’re free tomorrow night.”

“Mmm.”

His eyes traveled over to you and his chest tightened, “Unless-..”

You shook your head giggling softly replying, “I only, I have tickets tomorrow to a show. You can join me if you like, or we can try for dinner after it’s through if you don’t. Though it lets out a bit late I believe.”

A grin spread across his face, “I would love to join you. What show are we seeing?”

You giggled again, “Not telling.” He chuckled peering at you and you giggled again, “More fun that way.”

“How will I know what to wear?”

“Well, I usually wear a dress, but only because it’s that or jeans. You’ve been traveling, wear what you like.”

He sighed at you giving you a quizzical narrowing of his eyes as you smirked up at him, “I do have a vest and some slacks. My suits weren’t needed. Will that do?”

You grinned up at him, “You will look dashing as always.” He chuckled again, “Though I am curious as to why you would want to go on a date with me. I hope it’s not due to my teasing comments earlier.”

“No. However, that, will have to wait until we at least have our ice cream.”

“Keeping secrets already?”

Giving you another playful grin he purred back, “I am not keeping secrets, only hoping the ice cream may ease a question I have for you.”

You nodded then eased into the conversation he started about your interests lasting until you had cups of ice cream in hand and walked until you reached a bench under the moonlight aimed at a bridge not far from there. Wetting his lips he sat down then subtly shifted a bit closer to your side watching as you crossed your ankles and tasted yet another spoonful of your ice cream easing his grin out as well as his question, “I was wondering, about how long will your latest Francis series run?” Your eyes darted up to his and his grin grew, “It’s fantastic. I can’t stop reading it.”

“You read my story?”

He nodded, “I’ve read all the works you’ve posted on your page, countless times over the years.”

“Ye-, years?!”

He nodded then chuckled, “I might have been spied on at the Hannibal set with the guys poking around your page for the ones with them involved. Only to pull them into the others. Why they got so excited about running into you. Plus, Mads’ more than a bit irritated at the lack of attention your series get.”

“Well they’re drowning in attention now.” He raised his brow and you shook your head, “Nevermind.”

“So, how long will this one be? I have to know when I can finally breathe normally again without that wave of the unknown creeping up behind me.”

You giggled and stated, “There’s about twenty more parts.”

“Twe-, ugh.. Alright. That, actually feels about right. It is a dreadful wait, but alright.”

As he eased his spoon back out from between his closed lips his brow twitched up at your eyes locked on his in an unreadable expression. With a shake of your head and a grin as you filled your own spoon for another mouthful he grinned too and filled his as you looked out at the bridge mumbling, “Those eyes of yours will not earn you any spoilers.”

Raising his spoon to his lips he fired back, “If not my eyes, then what?” making you roll your eyes.

An eager bouncing child broke your conversation flapping and pointing his hands in his turns to his older brother clearly rushing to collect him. In rapid French the elder boy apologized as your eyes turned to the signed plea from the younger boy. Locked in a double language barrier Richard sat puzzled until you translated for the younger boy, “He’s saying they have to get a picture for their Mum.”

Richard glanced at you then to the boys and smiled at them with a nod stirring curious smiles at you both until you repeated in fluid French, “If you want a picture I’ll take it for you.”

The elder boy drew out his phone as you set aside your bowl to stand for them to huddle in close to Richard and his creeping grin. In a fumble in your pocket you drew out your journal to tear a blank back page free and passed the pen to Richard as you translated for the younger boy, “He’s asking if you will write, ‘I found this in the hedgerow. You have to look hard.’” Richard smirked recognizing the quote he wrote down then signed underneath it and passed it to the boys who rattled off that their Mother loved North and South and it got her to stop crying after their Dad had passed last year.

After a somehow gapless short conversation with the boys at your translations for both sides you were back in place at his side as the pair darted off home again with their prizes in hand to brighten their Mother’s day at the chance encounter. In a purr he asked you as you returned to your ice cream, “You sign and speak French?”

You giggled while swallowing your mouthful answering, “Among other things.” He raised a brow and you wet your lips, “My Gran and Gramps met in the service. Run in on a base. Though she spoke Italian and Greek while he spoke only French and a pitiful attempt at German.” Richard’s grin grew as you giggled, “Being the stubborn people they were, both refused to learn the other’s language, huge feud between Italian and French clans in their houses. So, naturally they both continued to flirt in their own languages until they found and signed up for signing classes.”

Richard chuckled, “Wow.”

You giggled and nodded, “63 years later, they still refuse to speak the other’s language and even after the wedding and the babies, oh yes,” Richard chuckled as you added, “They had twelve. The feud still lives on as does the refusal to speak the other’s language.”

Richard’s brows raised up, “Still?!”

You nodded with another giggle, “Still. I mean sure they’re both mainly fluent in the other’s language, but on principle they refuse to speak it. So the kids and grandkids its tradition to learn all the languages, including sign.”

“Wow. So, whose side are you on?”

You giggled saying, “Well, I’m in France. Though Gran booked me a three week stay with family out in Italy in a couple months to earn back the difference. Just how it is, tug of war but no clear demand to choose outright, so a clear pampered neutral right now.”

From that family was brought up with more intimate tales of your youths mingled with tales of travels. Eventually your bowls were emptied and you had turned to face one another on the bench with knees overlapping as his arm curled across the bench with his fingers brushing along the knee on your leg propped up between you as your head rested on your crossed arms on the back of the bench.

When the position had hit him he drew out his phone and stole a picture in a sudden scoot back to the end of the bench then back again making you giggle awkwardly breaking free from the position at his asking, “Why don’t we get you back to someplace softer for you to contort in before sunrise, hmm?”

Holding back your pitifully blush inducing thoughts you accepted his hand up and tried not to watch as his hand kept hold of it to rest in his between you for the walk back to the hotel as his other threw away your trash he’d collected. The time becoming more evident as you neared the hotel feeling the brisk tension of the upcoming wave of people about to embark on the start of their day while you walked sleeplessly into the elevator still locked in conversation with Richard who couldn’t help but keep inching closer to your side.

At your floor, then to your door, and then inside when a sketch you had mentioned was requested to be sent to him if possible was found in one of your journals and shown to him as you lounged against the pillow coated headboard of your bed at his side sharing that and a few more. The conversation carried on for a bit longer but at your head tapping a certain spot on his shoulder mid giggle behind your hands you seemed to hit a button that tugged you into a fierce drop into sleep on his way to finding out what the rest of your journal had inside. Warmly you snuggled at his side as your eyes clamped shut and his body turned to fold around you through a drowsy grumble and a wiggle to ease off the covers and tug you under with him in his zombie like state.

.

Alone you woke in the clearly too large of a nesting spot under the covers smelling entirely of Richard’s left over cologne that still felt warm as if he’d just slipped out. Smacking your lips you eased out of bed rolling your head and grumbling at the belt pinching your middle you quickly undid allowing you to fumble out of your jeans you left on the foot of the bed soon covered by the sweater you tugged off over your head. Staying in the bright purple lacy and silk layers you walked into the bathroom to brush your teeth and lazily make your way back to where your bag was to grab your pajamas on top of it. However halfway to it your froze at the body reentering the bedroom doorway left open that froze with wide eyes taking in your ever detail from the hidden number to your pitifully drooping bun from the top of your head you had tuck it into the night before and the fabled little brown heart on your stomach.

Without words his eyes followed yours to the pajamas he picked up then passed to you after a few steps, attempting to break the awkward silence by saying as you layered up, “I ordered breakfast. Shouldn’t be too long now.” He wet his lips, “I thought I might be able to sneak back in again after popping out to freshen up a bit.”

You nodded and without thinking your hand grabbed his and you led him back to bed easing his smile back across his face at your clearly intention of snuggling with him till the food arrived, “Thank you, for the food. I usually miss their breakfast cut off time here.”

Folding your legs under you he settled and eased off his sneakers again to tuck his legs back into bed, swinging his arm over you to rest around your side in the return to the comfortable snuggling position as you switched on the tv. Finding a program to hold each  other through in a battle not to fall asleep again lasting until the knock at the door. With the cart emptied Richard left it back in the hall and returned to your snuggling pile for the rest of the show you eventually fell asleep through once again until a couple hours before the show at a call Richard had gotten. A grin for a parting was all you got as you both resigned to showering and changing to ready for the show.

Fully dressed and bearing a fresh dab of his comforting cologne Richard stood outside your door and nearly dropped when he saw you fully dolled up for your night out. Hand in hand he led you out to the car waiting for you and loved each and every second of the show you had chosen and the late dinner he had reserved a table for after. Again at your door this time a gentle kiss was claimed with a promise for breakfast to be shared again in the morning at his cheeky request of sneaking down in his pajamas after his pre planned final set of work calls he had to see to before bed.

.

The pajama clad brit passed through your door at your opening it and made way for the bed with his hand fixed in yours to wrap you back into a sleeping nest waiting for the meal he had ordered for you both before coming down again. Once the meal was finished and cleared up again you were back in his arms melting into the kiss he claimed from you breaking at his grin from your soft sigh. Easing his forehead against yours breaking your attempt at burrowing your head in the crook of his neck. The loss of his hand on your side left a warm handprint where it had been to stroke his fingers gently across your cheek adoringly through his purred plea, “Please tell me you aren’t jetting off today.”

Through his lips planting on yours again you giggled softly then replied after his lips left yours, “Two and a half weeks.”

Wider his grin spread and he rumbled back, “Good. I have three weeks free before being tugged away again. Plenty of time to enjoy Paris with you and then follow you back home again for a few more days, if you wouldn’t mind.” Gently he moved your hand from his chest to kiss your knuckles widening your grin in return.

“You really assume I might turn you down?”

Richard smirked and purred, “We did just meet for the first time a couple days ago.” The ding from his phone made him roll back to claim his phone that made his smirk deepen reading his notification, “Your update.”

You giggled as he unlocked his phone to read it as you buried your head in the crook of his neck mumbling, “Just a warning, Francis pleasures himself in that part.”

Richard couldn’t help but chuckle rumbling back after a nip at his lip, “Good. Poor thing has been holding back, needs a release of some sort.” His head turned to press a kiss to your temple, “I do love how you express the tensions with these scenes.”

Against his shoulder you mumbled, “I, how are you fine with this?”

He chuckled after kissing your forehead again, “It is so masterfully done I often forget I have played the role at all until their names snap back to my attention.” His eyes trailed from you to the story he grinned and nipped his lip through while you hid and tried not to peek up at the username of the account he was leaving his review on until he chose to tell you himself.

.

Day after day for two and a half weeks you explored all there was to see hand in hand returning to snuggle and kiss your handsome stranger who by the day was growing more and more affectionate towards you. Back again you found yourselves in the same airport with matching bags checked stirring chuckles from you both. To the gate you found your way and waited for your chance to board, Richard with a far wider grin knowing he’d managed to swap both your tickets for joining seats in first class for the long flight so he could delve into your stories with you to explain his questions fully withholding his affections publicly until you had landed.

A few days after commuting back and forth to meet up with you Richard again was off into the air after a knee buckling final kiss and a promise to meet up with you again in Italy. 

...

Though at his assumed missed chance with you after a delayed flight in he slumped up to his assigned room, ignoring the creeping grin on the manager’s face as he left him at the door. In an irritated sigh he left his shoes by his bag in the living room and made his way in the dark for the bedroom, using the light in the main hall to guide him to drop heavily onto the bed. The shifting body he partially fell on made him jerk back up though to his knees lost for words as his chest tightened only to ease at the lamp being switched on revealing you curled up hiding another lacy number behind one of the pillows and comforter.

Instantly a curious smirk eased onto his lips as you asked, “Richard?”

In a low purr he asked, “Did you leave plans for me to get a key to this room?”

You shook your head only to drop your forehead to your knees with a low groan, “Gran.”

He chuckled then purred, “What does your gran have to do with this?”

You sighed and raised your head, “Her Cousin owns the hotel. Gramps’ relative must have told him about France.”

Richard chuckled again, “You don’t mind?”

Shaking your head he grinned moving to ease the clovers down, removing his belt to lay at the foot of the bed while crawling towards the pillows under the covers you brushed back for him to be curled in his arms. In a reach back he switched off the lamp allowing you to move the pillow covering your chest behind you then grip the covers to wrap around yourself hiding your skimpy layers to settle in his arms while he folded around you. Steadily his grin returned at your nose blindly stroking against his making him purr, “Back to sleep Darling.”

A soft chuckle left you and you whispered almost at his lips, “In a minute.” Tilting your head just slightly easing your lips into planting against his stirring a deep chuckle from him through his lean in to return the deepening kiss.

[glynwarrensarchive]

AVRIEL LORLAMIR GLYNWARREN - CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONNAIRE

BASICS -

1. Height? 

Avi is 6’1.

2. Eye colour?

Brown.

3. Do they need glasses?

No.

4. Scars and birthmark?

He has permanent Lichtenberg figure scars climbing up his left hand and forearm that glow when his powers take effect. He also adorns a large scar across his chest from a previous battle, and lots of smaller scars on his arms and legs from regular mishaps on the farm. He has a brown birthmark on his shoulder blade that’s the size of a golf ball.

5. Tattoos and piercings?

None.

6. Right or left handed?

Right-handed.

7. Any disabilities? Physical or mental.

None at the moment. 

8. Do they have any allergies?

Cottonwood pollen gives him seasonal allergies, though they were really only common in his village and aren’t found everywhere. He hasn’t discovered any allergies in Hegaehend’s environment.

9. Favourite colour?

Forest green.

10. Typical outfits?

Avi has terrible fashion sense, and still wears his farm clothes on off days. Most of his shirts have stains or tears. When he’s on-duty or in battle, his fashion sense is only slightly better. He wears elven chain with dark clothes and a simple cloak with a hood. His most high-quality item is always his shoes, of which he has two pairs. One is a steel-toed pair of work boots, and the others are impressive, longer, and light-weight leather boots that he wears in battle.

11. Do they wear any makeup?

No.

12. What weapon do they use, if any?

With one hand usually wielding his arcane focus (a homemade wand), Avi uses his other hand to hold either a shield or a battleaxe. He also has two daggers on him. 

PERSONALITY -

13. Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?

Avriel is terribly optimistic. It’s not naivety, per say, but rather a stubborn refusal to accept that some things just aren’t possible. He believes in miracles, but mostly he believes that if he works hard and is brave, the world will reward him. He believes good things will come to him because he strives for them, and he believes he can make the world a better place. That, in itself, is optimistic.

14. Are they introverted or extroverted?

He is extremely extroverted. He loves talking to strangers, loves making friends, and he’s incredibly good at both. 

15. What are their pet peeves?

Materialism, people who have the means to help others but don’t, bragging, closed-minded people, badly crafted vehicles and roofs, people who neglect their animals, when his nails get too long, geese.

16. What bad habits do they have?

He does everything loudly: yawning, chewing, talking. He bites his nails. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve and puts his elbows on tables. He tries extremely hard to be liked. He works himself half to death. He has a self-doubt so deep that he overcompensates with false confidence and claims that he’s invincible, when in reality he’s just not terribly afraid of injury or death. 

17. Do they have any phobias?

Avriel is claustrophobic, and though he has no traceable reason for this fear he has panic attacks when faced with small and enclosed spaces. 

18. How do they display affection?

Avi is very casually physically affectionate with those he cares about. He loves hugs, but more often than hugging he doles out shoulder-squeezes and hair tussles. He also believes strongly in acts of service. Rather than telling people directly how he feels, because it can be difficult for him to articulate his own emotions, he’ll do something practical to help his loved ones. That, or he’ll gift them something small but thoughtful, like the pigments his mother used to bring him from her travels.

19. How competitive are they?

He’s mostly competitive with himself. He doesn’t do much of anything to prove anything to anyone else, or to try and be better than anyone else. However, he’s always competing against his own image of himself and trying to improve in a way that’s often detrimental. 

20. If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

He’d make himself more powerful, more capable so it could be easier to make big changes quickly.

21. Do they have any obscure hobbies or routines?

Avi loves to paint, and is pretty good at it. He often paints little poems or sayings in the corners of his paintings to add a bit of a story to them. He also likes to whittle, and though he’s not great at it and has acquired a few scars, it’s a great way to fill his mornings and downtimes. 

He still wakes at the crack of dawn no matter what. Without animals or crops to tend to, however, most of his mornings are freed up, so he spends that time wandering the streets and watching the sunset if he doesn’t have to report to his general. 

BACKSTORY -

22. What are the names and ages of their close family members? Parents, siblings, etc.

Orion and Immra Glynwarren are 62 and 60 years old respectively. His brother, Efrain, is 37. 

23. Is their family alive and are they still in contact with them?

Avi’s parents are alive and well, and he is in contact with them often. His parents remain supportive even though he’s sure they question the path he’s taken and worry about him a fair bit. He stays with his brother every time he’s in Khaggon. They’ve only known each other a couple of months but are very much in contact. 

24. Where are they from? City, nation?

He is from a small, tight-knit farming village in Anari named Corduff. 

25. Did they have a childhood best friend?

Avi’s best friend growing up and to this day is a halfling named Quoric who he met in grade school. Quoric ended up working for Avriel on his farm as they got older, and is one of the most brutally honest people he has in his life. Avi had a lot of great friendships in his village, and quite honestly was a prized member of the community, but Quoric has always been the most loyal and genuine.

26. Have they had any pets? 

Plenty. He loves animals, and would have given his life to save his. He owned all sorts of farm animals for the purpose of selling their product, but he genuinely cared for them and treated them well. He also had several cats and a cattle dog at the time he left Anari, but wasn’t able to bring any of them along. Currently, his parents have an Irish Wolfhound named Ehno and he, of course, acts as though his brother’s cat Weasel is his.

27. Did they grow up rich or poor? What were their living conditions like? 

Avriel grew up in a very small home that his father made beautiful, not necessarily with monetary things but with art and craftsmanship. When he was young, Avi aware that he was poor, because he never went hungry and he always had a roof over his head. However, he realized at a fairly young age that his parents spent all their time and energy on providing for him and had no time for anything else, so he became a farmhand to help them. After inheriting the farm around age eighteen, Avi made a modest profit from his land and lived more comfortably than he had growing up. He was never rich, but he made a name for himself as a great farmer and had enough to provide for his parents and his employees.

28. What is their educational background?

Avi went to grade school, and then was homeschooled by his father for three years, and then got much too busy with work.

29. As a child, what did they want to be when they grew up?

He once heard a story about a knight who single handedly freed all the slaves in a kingdom through cunning and wit and bravery, and that was all he wanted to be. Not just a knight, but a hero - cunning and witty and brave. Realistically, though, he settled on being a farmer.

30. What advice would they give to their younger self?

He would tell himself to never limit himself to the confines of normality. Just because the average person in his town was a farmer didn’t mean he had to be a farmer. Normal works just fine for most people, but he’d tell himself not to strive to be like most people.

31. Growing up, were they ever bullied or were they the bully?

Neither, really. Socially, Avriel had a very easy time as a child.

32. Who do they look up to/who is their role model?

His mother, for her bravery and adventurous nature and his father, for his idealism and kindness.

PRESENT -

33. Do they currently have a place of residence?

He has a room at the Crayhorn Estate, but travels often with Rolland’s army.

34. What is their most treasured possession?

He travels with the painting his father made him for his last birthday. It’s a scene of a phoenix flying above farmland. When he travels back home and has a more permanent place of residency in Khaggon, he plans to bring more of the painting his father made with him. He has one from every birthday since his first. 

35. What is their drink of choice?

Whiskey. 

36. Which king/queen are they loyal to, if any?

Right now his loyalty lies with King Rolland because he seems to need his help the most, though Queen Kaylynn will always have a piece of his loyalty.

37. Have they ever killed anyone?

Yes, but only recently after joining the army. Though he feels some guilt, he knows the people he kills have ill-will for him and everything he stands for, and he knows he stands for good. That being said, no good person can rest easily having seen someone die by their hand, so he prays to make himself feel better.

38. What was their last promise and did they keep it?

His last promise, and the promise he’s been giving to his parents since he left a year ago, was that he will return safely someday with stories that will make them proud. It’s too soon to say if he’s kept it or not, but he’s entirely convinced that he will and already has plans of visiting.

LOVE -

39. What was their first kiss like, if they’ve had one?

When he was fifteen, Avriel had his first kiss with a village girl under a cottonwood tree. He sneezed in her face afterward. They continued to date for months. The entire relationship was awkward and uncomfortable.

40. Are they in a relationship/have a love interest?

Avriel is single, and mingling. Currently, he’s getting to know Thea’s brother, Ewin.

41. Have they ever been in love?

Avi has never been in love, but he certainly thought he was. And, truly, he loved Ione - he still does. He knows the deepest parts of her and accepts every part. Avi didn’t know that platonic love could be that raw and consuming because no one had ever told him it could. He was told fanciful stories of true loves and soulmates and meant-to-bes, but he was never told stories of finding home in someone who you were not in love with, but who meant just as much to you. So while he’s never been in love in the way most people mean it when they ask, he’s never really missed the feeling.

42. Have they ever had their heart broken?

Yes, but not by somebody else. Avriel broke his own heart. He’s heartbroken over leaving Ione, over taking her for granted. He regrets always wanting something more and feeling loss because the romance wasn’t there, never fully appreciating that she was his comfort and his home. He left her to better the world - for the greater good - but he knows he broke her heart and that breaks his. He wishes he could turn back time and stop himself from trying so hard to force their love to be something from a fairytale. He wishes he’d never tried to convince her that he was someone she could settle down and have a family with. 

SPIRITUALITY -

43. Do they follow a god, if so who?

Avi follows Melora, the goddess of the wilderness and the sea. His mother is a ranger, and Melora always keeps her safe. Because of the wilderness of his powers and the storms that fester around him, he prays for her to keep him safe, too. Though she’s the only god he follows, he believes all gods have validity and is interested to learn more about others’ religions.

44. What do they think happens to them after death?

He believes he will return to nature, become dirt in the ground and renew everything that has renewed him. He doesn’t really wish for consciousness after death, and is comfortable with the finality of it if he’s achieved everything he set out to achieve and can return to nature after it’s all said and done.

45. What is their spirit animal? 

A lion.

[sulevinblade]

For DWC - “ you’re beautiful ”? Characters of your choice.

Hi!! Thank you so much for the prompt!! I feel like I should apologize because this is a very self-indulgent fill but it was (one of) the first thing(s) I thought of when I saw this. Hopefully you enjoy it even so!! Astoria and Nikhael Trevelyan, G rating, ~1700 words. Nikh used with permission from @gremlinquisitor, which is also why nobody else has names. For @dadrunkwriting!

She’d watched them approach from one of the tower’s higher windows. It wouldn’t do to be overly eager; she wanted to keep herself as level as possible through the visit if she could, though the news in her sister’s letters made it difficult. Astoria waited until the last possible second before turning away and trotting down the stairs. They should just be leaving the carriage now. The templars will see to the horses. Past the statue, through the courtyard, and–

“Astoria Trevelyan. Your guests have arrived.“ 

Ser Engels held one side of the massive double doors that kept them separate from the outside world open as she reached the landing, gesturing for her to accompany him through. He wasn’t bad, as templars went. Older, something of a fixture in the Circle, but always distant and formal. Astoria inclined her head to him as she passed, waiting for the sound of the door settling back into place before proceeding.

Being a member of the nobility didn’t afford her many privileges in the Circle and Astoria preferred it that way. There were enough artificial structures here to drive them apart, why encourage more? This single thing was the only privilege she actively utilized, and even then not very often. The Circle was a long way from her family’s home and as she’d gotten older and more independent, it became less essential to her family to check on her wellbeing or allow her time with her sister. When she did get to see them, however, it was always in private. A modest but still comfortable room on the outside of the tower had been modified to allow both the templars and the occasional mage somewhere to receive visitors in privacy, and this room was now Astoria’s destination.

She was nearly vibrating when Ser Engels pushed the door open. Her sister and her brother-in-law both looked up but didn’t speak right away, though her sister smiled. She looked worn out, a little pale, but that was perhaps to be expected. Astoria brushed past the templar into the room and moved to kiss her sister on the cheek. A hug would have to wait until she passed the bundle she carried off to her husband.

Then again, the bundle was the entire reason they’d come. For nearly a year Astoria had smiled at every letter as her sister’s excitement grew, but there was an unspoken apprehension as well. Her husband’s family hadn’t produced a mage in generations but there was no denying the increase in the number of mages being born in the Free Marches recently. It was enough to make any family nervous, and if Astoria was nothing else she was evidence that magic yet existed in the Trevelyan bloodline.

Concern about that had been placed on the back burner, however, when the midwife forced the expectant mother into bed for the latter half of her pregnancy. Astoria’s mail started arriving multiple times a week, usually just short missives about how dull being stuck in bed was, how her sister felt fine, then later how the baby was moving, how dull the baby must also be finding bed rest, how uncomfortable she felt, how much she resembled a bronto. Nothing in there even worth censoring if the lack of templar editing was any indication. Then there was a break, but the next letter more than made up for it: it contained a copy of the baby’s official birth announcement. That was two months ago and while Astoria had been able to celebrate quietly with a few friends, it was nothing like being able to congratulate her sister in person or, perhap more importantly, to greet the guest of honor himself.

After receiving a welcome hug from her brother-in-law–a good man who took his wife’s words to heart and held no fear of Astoria, though she was careful to never ask what he thought of mages in general and he likewise took care to never bring it up–Astoria turned her attention to the miniature person in her sister’s arms. “I’ve been practicing with sacks of flour and the occasional turkey, I should be fine,” she quipped as she slipped her arms around him, grinning at her sister as she lifted the baby’s head and peered down at his face. Her sister and her husband moved to sit and Astoria did as well. This would be easier without having to worry about keeping her legs under her.

“He’s beautiful.”

“Boys aren’t beautiful, Tori. Call him handsome or elegant.”

Astoria laughed softly and shook her head. “I haven’t known many of them but I don’t think anything about a baby is elegant.” Her attempt at humor felt hollow, though, and after she finished speaking the room fell into a heavy silence.

As soon as she’d gathered her nephew up, the feeling in the room had changed. Astoria wanted to hold onto the peaceful joy of a new life as long as she could, but she also knew her sister needed to know. It meant planning this little boy’s entire life, which seemed like too much to ask of someone so small. This was also, Astoria knew, as close as she would ever come to holding a child of her own. A monthly ritual for most of the young mages here capable of bearing a child: lining up every morning for a week to receive a spoonful of seeds, green and bitter, washed down with a mouthful of wine for the taste, even for the youngest. Not every mage chose it but those who didn’t knew the potential consequences and they weren’t ones Astoria was prepared to face.

That was just another part of life here, but her willingness to go along quietly was part of what allowed Astoria to have the family moment she was having now. Family. Her blood family, or at least the part of it that still cared about including her in these moments. It was a little bigger now, expanded by a boy with his father’s eyes and his mother’s nose and forehead. He would be so handsome. She could only hope that she realized it in intervals rather than as a slow process, but there was only one way to be sure.

“Hello, Nikhael.” She stroked a finger over his cheek, careful to turn it so the worst of her staff calluses wouldn’t touch him. “I’m your aunt Astoria, and you’re beautiful. Nobody tells boys that when they’re older but I’m gonna tell you now. You’re a beautiful young man.”

As soon as she touched his skin, she could feel it. The same resonance she felt when she took the hand of a child to lead them away from the doors and their parents and their life, or when a young man laid his head on her shoulder and wept in fear as she combed his fingers through his hair to comfort him. The same resonance that was absent a week later, replaced with a brand on his forehead and a vacancy in his eyes.

Magic.

It was part of why they’d made the trip. There was no certain way to know if a child was a mage until they came into magic of their own, but mages knew their own. Of course, with no mages living outside the Circle, or at least none who would be willing to come forward to determine the fate of a noble child, the options for finding out when a baby was still young were limited. Most families simply had to wait, but the Trevelyans had Astoria. She’d resisted at first, telling her sister that riding all the way to the Circle while pregnant wouldn’t benefit anyone since she’d never heard tell of anyone being able to feel anything that early, but she knew if she wanted to see her nephew at all that it would be an inevitability. And now they all had their answer.

The thought of keeping it a secret crossed her mind but as soon as it did, she realized she’d already given herself away. A fat drop of water rolled down her cheek, a warm trail over skin that had gone cold as soon as she’d touched his face. She heard her sister gasp, saw her husband moving out of the corner of her eye, but she never took her attention away from Nikhael. His parents had one reality to face now but it was one Astoria was already living and had lived for fifteen years. She couldn’t do anything to change his future but she could, she would, do everything in her power to protect him from the worst of it. She would be his shield.  

His face grew blurry as more tears welled up, but Astoria left the sobbing to his mother, instead just letting the tears spill over of their own volition. Nikhael Trevelyan, a beautiful and beloved son and nephew. All the questions could be answered later, delayed as long as possible even if it was just a matter of time. There was no point talking about training or schools now, no value in explaining the process of a Harrowing to a devastated mother. Everything Astoria had to offer now was for him anyway. There was nothing she could say to heal her sister’s heart.

Instead she kissed his forehead, tickled at his chin, freed one arm from his blanket so he could put one impossibly tiny, soft hand around her finger. He’d hold a staff soon enough but for now Nikhael should be allowed to hold whatever he wanted. If only he could remember this later, that there was someone waiting here who loved him and would give him everything she could. He wouldn’t, though, and chances were neither would his parents. This would be a shadow over all his childhood, the knowledge that eventually he’d end up here. Astoria would remember enough for all of them, but not right now. She’d have a lifetime to create that. For now she wanted to hold him in her mind like this as long as she could, memorize him being small and perfect and free.