#to be fair there is a large number of my friends who are tiny kittens | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-simple-imagine · 4 years

Text

Run Away With Me

Synopsis: Every moment shared with Charlie Weasley is an adventure all it’s own. How you wish to spend every moment together and all it takes is to run away.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 6.3k+

A/N - Every year I post a story on my birthday and today’s the day I turn a year older. Usually these stories are pretty sad but this year I wrote something a little softer so here is my birthday present for you guys, I hope you enjoy it.

1. A Stolen Kiss

A bright-eyed and clueless young student, excited to be attending a school of magic. Nobody else in your family had magic so it was a big surprise when you received a letter alongside a weird lady who looked like she just stepped out of the early 1920s. Sat between your parents, the older woman explained the entire situation much to your excitement and your parents' confusion.

Diagon alley had been your first experience of all things magical; it had been like stepping into another world instead of just any old street in London. There were book shops lined with all kinds of books, some were bigger than your head while others were tiny. A shop that sold weird and kinda gross jars full of who knows what. There was a place that only sold brooms but according to the list you had read like a hundred times, first years weren't allowed their own brooms. You spent what felt like a lifetime at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions getting fitted for robes. Your parents were utterly fascinated by all the different styles and kept asking questions that made the experience so much longer than it really needed to be. You'd never had a pet before, but after a lot of begging they let you pick out a cat; he was a small Persian cat. Not quite a kitten but not quite fully grown. Checking off each item as you went along, you were exhausted by the end of it. There was even enough time for a trip to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour where you had enjoyed a cone of strawberries and cream with sprinkles on top. All that was left on your list was a wand. Peeling gold letters rested over the door of a shop that read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Stepping inside it was a tiny little store with no costumers. Thousands of narrow boxes lined the walls all the way up to the ceiling. It didn't take long for the weird old man to give you a wand that felt warm in your hand. Unlike the other disasters that came at the result of you waving various wands, a stream of red and gold sparks shoot out the end of this one like a mini firework. The wand chooses the wizard whatever the hell that meant. All ready and packed for Hogwarts, you were really giddy to go. Your mother cried as she waved you off to boarding school but you couldn't sit still. The train ride took hours and it was a little lonely considering you didn't know anyone but as soon as you entered the castle you knew it was exactly where you were meant to be. The building was massive and practically oozed magic and mystery through each brick. The pictures, much to your surprise, were moving on their own. Hogwarts had four houses and each student had to sit on a tall stool, put on a funny talking hat which would decide ultimately where they belong.

The very first friend you made was Nymphadora Tonks but only because she was in all of your classes and by some twist of fate you always ended up seated together. She was a sweet girl with pink hair and a talent for mischief. There was never a dull moment with you two. Then there was Charlie Weasley. Ever since that brisk day in October when he had ridden in clumsily on his white horse to save the day, the two of you had been the best of friends. You were still getting used to all your different classes. Potions class, however, was proving the most difficult. Too many ingredients and types to get used to. Not to mention Snape was just... mean. The task had been to prepare a simple Wiggenweld Potion; a powerful healing potion that can be used to heal injuries, or reverse the effects of a Sleeping Draught. The book was open on the desk as you carefully followed the instructions until.... poof. All the confidence you'd gained since arriving disappeared as Snape scolded you in front of everyone for messing up. Charlie had swooped in to take the blame landing himself in late-night detention. On the other hand, you got to leave with your tail between your legs and a few house points shaved off the total. And yet even his small act of kindness wasn't enough to capture your affection at least not at first. For the little version of yourself was infatuated with another Weasley. An older Weasley.

The nerves of a handful of students could be felt by anyone sat in the great hall for breakfast. Tonks is sat beside you running butter over a piece of toast. Stifling a yawn, Charlie takes a seat across from the two of you sporting a jumper of Gryffindor red and gold.

"Good morning," You flash your cheeriest, half-asleep smile bringing your spoon of Cheeri Owls to your lips. "Nervous?"

"A little," He was looking especially pale today suggesting he was more than just a little.

"You should be," Tonks perks up. "It's only the last game of the season and all hope rides on the seeker,"

"No pressure then," Charlie huffs out a dull laugh. The boy excelled in his position as the Gryffindor seeker but there was no way to determine how he'd play today when he was carrying the hopes and dreams of his teammates and entire house.

"You should eat something," You suggest, pushing a bowl of assorted fruit forward. There was little you could to make him feel better except take his spot but that wasn't allowed. You also probably wouldn't be that good. "Might make you feel better?"

"I'm too nervous to eat," He insisted but he still took an apple; rolling the red fruit between his palms.

"Win or lose you're still number one in our heart, right Tonks?" Elbowing her gently, you shovel another spoonful of 'O' shapes into your mouth.

"Sure," she shrugs. "If you want we can jinx the other team's seeker? I've been practising."

"Or... how much time do we have? I can get one of the older students to brew some Felix Felicis." You play along. "Nothing like a little liquid luck to win a game."

"You both know that's not allowed," Charlie took a large bite of his apple.

"When has Tonks ever cared about rules," Sometimes you wish she did care, you probably wouldn't have ended up in detention so many times alongside her.

"Thanks but no," he took another bite. "We have to win fair and square."

The conversation drifted from nerves to lost spells and planned practical jokes. Charlie seemed to relax a little the more he spoke. Maybe all he needed was a distraction to cheer him up.

"We need to take a trip to Hogsmeade" Tonk announces. "I'm out of dungbombs."

"Urgh- you and that silly joke shop." You can't help but roll your eyes but it was all good-natured. Despite hardly ever buying anything yourself, you spent an awful lot of time at Zonko's infamous little joke shop. "I could do with a trip outside the castle though. You should come too Charlie and maybe... you could ask Bill if he wants to come?"

"You're still gushing over Bill," Now it was Tonks turn to elbow you playfully, her lips curling up into a tantalising smirk.

"I do not gush over him," you state firmly, brows knitting together in a frown. You didn't appreciate being made fun. Bill was older, wiser and always made time to show you kindness. He made your little heart flutter whenever you saw him and Tonks took every opportunity to tease you about it. "I just thought It'd be nice is all. Wouldn't you agree, Charlie?"

"If you want him to come, ask him yourself." He responds, taking a large gulp of his juice.

"She won't because she has a crush."

"I don't have a crush Nymphadora- stop it," It was infinitely more embarrassing talking about this with Charlie sat at the table. "Don't ask him then, I don't care."

"Yes you do," Placing her arm around your shoulder, she pulls you into her side. "Because you're in love-"

"I am not!" You snap, pushing out of her grip.

"I'll see you guys later." The two of you share a look as Charlie disappears without another word. It was probably just pregame nerves.

"You know what? I think I'll get some frogspawn soap too and put it in the prefects' bathroom." Typical Tonks.

You'd come to learn through your time at Hogwarts that Quidditch was the most popular sport among wizards. And each house had their own team who compete for a trophy and bragging rights. Today was the final game thankfully. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Apparently, it came down to these two a lot. As the Gryffindor team filter out of the changing rooms, you slip inside to find Charlie sitting on a little bench.

"Guess who?" You sing-song, slapping your hands over his eyes but only briefly. He turns to look at you with an almost sour expression.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to support you," you reply soft, offering a smile he couldn't even see as he turned away.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Had you done something to upset him? Surely not. This was the first time you were seeing him since breakfast so there hadn't been a moment for you to mess things up and yet, his voice held an icy chill.

"Guess Tonks is rubbing off on me?" You jest, looking around the room. It was empty apart from you two. Bags and clothes scattered across benches or half shoved into lockers. A chalkboard stood in the corner with drawings you couldn't understand. "I just wanted to see how you were doing before the big game, is all. We were worried about you."

"You were worried about me," He repeats slowly, looking up at you. "I thought you hated quidditch."

"I still do," Your shoulders rise in a little shrug. "It's silly. Doesn't matter how hard the team works or how many goals it's pretty much all decided by how good the seeker is so why even have goals?"

"Score enough goals before the snitch is caught and anyone could win," He perks up. "You just don't understand how good and exciting it is."

Your lips curl up in appreciation for Charlie Weasley and his love for quidditch. It didn't possess the sparkle that came along when he talks about dragons but it was still nice to see him liven up. "Then go out there and show me how exciting it is,"

You stand under the spotlight of his gaze as he seemingly takes in your choice of attire; wearing the Gryffindor colours with pride to show your support. You even let Tonks paint your face after she promised not to draw genitalia. "Do you really think we're gonna win? What if I mess up and everyone hates me?"

"Then you mess up and everyone hates you," You shrug a little. "But that's not gonna happen and you know why?" His head shakes slowly. "It's because you're the best seeker at this school Charles Weasley." You place your hands on either side of his shoulders. "And I believe in you."

"How does that help me?" With your index finger under his chin, you force him to meet your eyes.

"Because I'm never wrong."

"That doesn't sound right." He tries to look away but you stop him.

"But it is," You offer a reassuring smile; one full of determination. "You've got this Charlie. So come on before you miss the game entirely."

The cheers outside were seemingly growing louder by the second. With a deep breath, Charlie stands up, grabbing his broom. "You're staying to watch, right?"

"Of course. Tonks is up in the stands too." Taking his hand, you lead the way out of the tent. "Consider us your good luck charms." Charlie brings the both of you to an abrupt stop before you even reach the opening of the tent, pulling you back to him. "What's up?"

The peppering of freckles that covered Charlie's face was even more vibrant against the rose pink blush. You squeeze his hand a little hoping it makes him feel better. And then it happens. The crowd grows silent in your ear but only for a moment as Charlie's surprisingly soft lips crash clumsily against yours. "For good luck," his whispers; his hand slipping from yours as he leaves you dumbfounded.

"He okay?" Tonks asks as you return from your trip.

"Yeah... still nervous," You reply, sitting down beside her. "It's his first big game after all."

"Are you okay?" The crowd erupts into cheers as the Gryffindor team flys in first. You're almost too embarrassed to look for Charlie; worried about what you might find so you keep your head down. "You look like you've just seen a troll or something?"

"Mhmm," you hum, forcing yourself to watch the Slytherin team as they enter. Why had Charlie kissed you? Did it mean he liked you or was he just messing around? Your head swirled with possibilities.

"You want a sweet?" Your friend offers as the game finally starts. It takes you a second to register but you smile, reaching into the little bag she was holding only to come to a stop.

"They're not gonna burn my tongue off or something are they?"

"No," Her chuckle sounded a little too innocent but you trust her for some reason. Taking a piece of confectionery out of the paper bag.

"Charlie... kissed me." You announce, throwing the sweet into you mouth; face scrunching up when they turn out to be sour. Ten points to Slytherin as they take the lead.

"He what?"

"He... kissed me."

2. Together

Who was Bill Weasley but a distant playground crush after that day. And your time of classrooms and magic lessons came swiftly to an end; how bittersweet it felt to leave a place you loved dearly. A once naive little girl stepping into the unknown now called the Wizarding World Home. Now you would go on to be a healer which was simply a magical doctor although your parents strongly disagreed with the comparison. However proud they were of you there would always be some part of them that wished you had chosen to become a lawyer or 'real' doctor.

Bathed in the warm embrace of the setting sun, you ponder the tranquility in a bed of green grass. The youngest Weasley lay beside you, struggling to keep still as often children do. She was similar to her brother in that way who now paced back and forth a mere few steps away. The invitation had been for dinner but you arrived a little early. The burrow was always such a welcoming place like stepping into a home you used to live in many moons ago; it was cosy and warm and there was no doubt that many lived there. You found your house to be almost the opposite, it always looked like nobody lived there. Immaculate. Polished. Cold.

"Will you stop pacing, you're making me nervous." You call out to your boyfriend, opening your eyes only to squint at the bright light. "What's wrong with you?"

Charlie comes to a stop as you sit up; Ginny mimics you in sitting up but the boy's eyes stay on you. The longer he stared, the more the pit in your stomach grew; what exactly hid behind his blank expression. He normally possessed such a playful warmth but it seemed to have vanished as of late. Plucking a stray purple flower, you enclose it in the palm of your hands. "You know I love dragons right?"

"Of course," Since meeting him, he had probably managed to slip dragons into every conversation you had ever had. It was at a point where you knew far more about dragons than you ever really cared to know. Many found his obsession annoying because that's what he so obviously was, obsessed but you found it enticing. Charming, even. Opening up your hand, a small butterfly with deep plum-purple wings flutters into the air and onto a giggly Ginny's nose. The innocent glee of a child; how those days were gone for you. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Promise you won't be mad?" It would be foolish to make such a promise when there was no way to guarantee your reaction. Whatever it was must be bad, if he was this worried. Your shoulders rise a little then fall.

"I make no such promises- just tell me."

Charlie took a breath that travelled on the wind to your ears before he blurted out. "I'm moving to Romania."

"Okay," Is your first reaction while your brain tries to make sense of something it didn't want to hear. "Wait- what?"

"Charlie is moving away to work with big scary dragons," Ginny announces playfully, baring her little hands like claws.

The once small pit grew into a mighty black hole of uncertainty and sadness that threatened to swallow you whole. There had been conversations shared between friends of Charlie wanting to move away to a foreign land, just to finally see a dragon but you had never taken it at face value. Always so convinced it was but a dream rather like those of when you were little and you wished to be a vampire. Technically back then you didn't know they actually existed but still, even now it was never going to come true. Eyes cast upon the second eldest Weasley, he kicks up the grass with his hands buried in the pockets of his pants. "It's the nearest Dragon reserve."

That was something you already knew but it didn't make the decision, at least in your eyes, any less confusing. Instead, it prompted water to well up in your eyes for this was something that affected not only him and his family but your life too. "I... I don't know what to say,"

"Hey Ginny, can you go check if dinner's ready yet?"

"No- why can't you do it?" The bark behind her words was very in character for the fiesty young Weasley. Blinking away the tears, you plaster on the best smile you can muster.

"If you go check on dinner I promise we can play a game later, okay? Exploding snap maybe?"

"Really?" She eyes you suspicious probably because it was a promise you had broken before. Not always for the right reasons but this time it was genuine. Charlie clearly wanted this to be a private conversation or perhaps he was just saving you for the inevitable moment where she asks why you're crying. Ginny scrambles to feet when you nod and skips off towards the gravity-defying house. It still amazed you that the building hadn't fallen yet. Rising to your feet you brush yourself off.

"You know I want nothing more than to work with Dragons and this is the only way I can do that," There was no mistaking the serious tone that came along with his words. It didn't matter what you said there was no changing his mind but you wouldn't do that anyway. It seemed cruel to even try to get him to give up on something so precious and you would never want to do that to him. "I have an opportunity to do something I love and I won't waste it to get some boring job at the ministry."

"I don't expect you too..." You wanted nothing more than to tell him to stay; beg him even. You were fighting against the selfish little devil that was stabbing you in the heart. It was a dull, deep pain in your chest. You wanted Charlie to follow his dreams, you just never expected them to not include you. "It's just a lot to take in."

"I know," The red-headed boy walks ever so slowly over to you, taking both hands in his. His hands had always felt a little rough ever since Hogwarts. You used to complain back then and insist he needed to moisturise but over time you had grown fond of the familiarity. How you wished this tender moment could last forever because it very well might be your last. You're caught off guard when he yanks you forward. You stumble into his chest where he wraps his arms around you like the big teddy bear he was. You breathe in every inch of him like it was the last time. The intoxicating aroma of an early walk in the woods; that fresh earthy smell that really makes you appreciate where you are. You could almost picture the pine trees.

"I feel like I'm losing you," Your words but a whisper, lost on the breeze.

"You're not," His grip around you tightens and suddenly your in the air, spinning around. "You could never get rid of me that easily.

"Charlie," You fight back a smile as you return to the ground; burying your face in the nook of his neck. "What's gonna happen to us?"

"About that-"

"Because I don't know if I can do the whole long-distance thing? So do we break up?" The tears threaten to fall once again as you pull back to get a good look at him. You never wanted to forget the emerald of his eyes or each and every freckle that called his body home. The unusual scare that adorned his eyebrow that was always amusing to look at. If that was his true purpose to break up with you then there would be no stopping the tears when they finally burst through the damn.

"No, I-"

"Because that's a little mean Charlie, you could have at least waited until after dinner. Should have done it first actua-"

You words become mumbled by the palm of his hand which he's placed over your mouth like a seal of protection. "Shush for a minute."

It's hard to resist so you simply don't; sticking your tongue you deliberately lick the palm of his hand but it seems to not phase him whatsoever.

"I'm not breaking up with you, silly," You meet his gaze. "I was kind of thinking you could come with me?"

Reaching up, you yank his hand away. "To Romania? You've got to be joking."

"Why not?"

Did you even know how to answer that? There were so many reasons why one should not just up and leave to go live in a completely different country with the boy they dated through high school. "I can't just up and leave my family- my mum will be devastated."

"I'll talk to her about it," Charlie hums softly, placing a delicate kiss upon your forehead. "Your mum loves me and she wants you to be happy."

"Dinner's Ready," For such a small girl, Ginny had one big mouth. There was no mistaking her call. However, this whole situation now felt a little... off. Could you even sit through dinner without it all becoming weird?

"We're coming," Charlie yells back; offering up his hand which you reluctantly take and he leads the way back to the house. "You want to be a healer right? You could do that in Romania."

"I guess," You weren't exactly worried about not finding a job.

"You don't have to decide right now," He tells you before you have a chance to speak up again. "Just think about it. I mean the invitation is there and for what it's worth, I'd really like you to come."

3. Creeping doubts

It took a lot of convincing but despite everything you decided to follow Charlie into the Unknown. Your parents weren't thrilled with the decision but they respected it; they were just worried about what would happen if something went wrong. And as their only child, they would obviously miss you. A lot of time was spent at the burrow that summer before moving to Romania; you were beginning to feel like an honorary Weasley only with the experience of having been a muggle for the first eleven years of your life. It was but a three-hour flight to Romania and your mother had sobbed at the airport. It made you think back to your first time stepping onto the Hogwarts express, leaving your parents behind to go to a magical boarding school in Scotland. It was a peculiar thought but a nice one. One you wished to cherish. Now in a foreign land with no support system behind you other than a boy you had been dating for years, you were ready for a new adventure. And there was officially no doubt in your mind that you would do just about anything for Charlie Weasley.

"It's not much," Charlie sets his suitcase down on the table. "Best I could do, for now, I'm afraid."

"It's fine," It was an old apartment in a building full of what you assumed were muggles. There was a small living room area with an ugly pea-coloured couch nestled against one wall. Beside it was a small coffee table and on the other side of the room was a TV, you weren't convinced actually worked. Then there was the kitchen which was attached to the living room. It had a fridge, a cooker and some cupboards. The only other room was a bedroom that literally only housed a bed in at the moment, then there was a door that leads on to the bathroom. It definitely wasn't much but a crappy apartment was just part of the experience, right? At least that's what you were telling yourself. "it'll feel like home soon enough," You had everything you needed to make this place feel like home right in your suitcase; oh the joys of magic. Patting yourself down, you search for the key to easy unpacking. "Uh... have you seen my wand?"

His head shakes and wears an amused grin. "You remembered to bring it right?"

"Yes," you huff. "I was gonna unpack," Falling back against the wall, you slide down onto the floor which you imagine hasn't been cleaned in a while considering the dust. "It's gonna take so long without my wand- which may actually be in the suitcase now that I think about it."

"Did you forget I'm a wizard too?"

"You do it then," You drop your head back against the wall. "I'm starving."

"actually have you seen my wand?"

You giggle to yourself "You're an idiot,"

"Hey- you lost your wand too." His shadow lingers over you as he comes to join you against the wall. Taking up a seat beside you, your head falls to rest against his shoulder.

"Can we get pizza? I saw some of those leaflets when we came in so we could order some?"

"Whatever you want, my love."

As time ticks on the pizza box is left discarded in the kitchen as the two of you retire for the night. Who knew not actually unpacking but simply thinking about it while eating pizza on the dirty ground could be so much work. You struggle to hold back a yawn as you snuggle up to him trying to absorb as much of his body heat as you can. All that lay across the two of you were a blanket and this building was next exactly the warmest. "Do you think we'll be okay? "You ponder aloud; it was a question that had been on your mind since agreeing to follow him to Romania. For not many people stay together with their high school loves. What if things fall apart now that you're in the 'real' world? What if this was all just a huge mistake?

"What do you mean?" Always such a simple boy; you wonder how he deals with his anxieties. Did he actually not know what you meant or was he merely putting on a brave face? A once proud Gryffindor suggested that he always looked to be brave above anything else.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" You repeat as if that somehow answers his question but it must have done something because even in the darkness you can just tell he's smiling.

"You worry way too much." Charlie laughs.

"You don't worry enough,"

He lays a kiss upon the top of your head, his hand moving up and down your arm. "It used to be the other way around."

"I was young and reckless back then. "How you missed the days where you ran around the halls of Hogwarts with reckless abandon. Well, not entirely reckless that was more Tonks but things had definitely felt simpler back then.

"You're still young and reckless now, I just have to hear you stress about it afterwards." Charlie taunts, pinching your arm. You recoil at the sharp pain.

"Shush."

"Being in Romania doesn't change anything," He expresses; his voice sounding louder in the quiet darkness. "I loved you back home and I still love you now. I'm really glad you decided to come with me."

Hoping to distract yourself from every worrying thought that clouded your brain you decide it's time to change the subject. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Getting to work with Dragons all day every day? that's like dream come true."

"A dangerous one," Dragons were perhaps the most vicious creatures around other than humans. As captivating as they were and as much as charlie adored them, you couldn't help but worry about his safety. It seemed no matter the topic this evening you'd find a way to stress yourself out.

"I'll be fine, I'll have you there to patch me up," That he will for you had taken on the role as a healer willing to help out with all the injuries that inevitably come from dealing with dragons. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't quite convinced you were up to the task; you had never actually dealt with dragon-related injuries so this was like diving headfirst into the ocean when you only just learned how to swim in a training pool. "and if not- well, we had a good run."

"Don't joke about that," Nuzzling against his chest, you finally let your eyes close. Today was the start of forever with the one and only Charles Weasley and here he was joking about his ultimate demise.

4. The perfect day

It's peculiar how life can just fall into place. Your odd little world of dragons and leaky apartment buildings just became the norm. You had come to love your work at the reserve, Dragons were actually incredibly cool up close. Not to mention getting to see Charlie work with them after years of never shutting up about them was truly a sight to behold. Every day, it was like taking an excited little boy to his first day of school. His eyes simply lit up whenever he was at work although it was hard explaining his injuries to the neighbours when they were being nosey. You also had to be careful when using magic since you were basically living with muggles and it would be a headache if they ever found out.

With your site blocked by a thin piece of fabric, Charlie guides you carefully forward with his hands skillfully placed upon your arms to steer. This was the first day off the two of you have shared in a long time. Little information was given about your destination other than it being a surprise. With Charlie that could mean just about anything which wasn't always a good thing but you trusted him enough to believe he wasn't leading you into a dragon's den or something. A gentle breeze nipped at the skin of your neck and the ground felt soft under your feet. The gentle singing of a symphony of birds filled the air and the sun beamed down with remarkable easy. All this suggested you were somewhere withdrawn in nature. Charlie had always been one for the great outdoors. There were countless times you had found him sneaking in or out of the forbidden forest back at school.

"Am I going to like this surprise?" You inquire; your anxiety building with each step. You would much prefer to simply know what was going on rather than experience some dramatic reveal especially today of all days. Every year the boy seems to forget that he agreed not to make a big deal.

"I sure hope so," You practically slam into him as she comes to an unexpected standstill. "Because I don't think I can return it."

"Return what? Oh god- can I take my blindfold off?"

As the flimsy fabric skims the length of your face to settle loosely around your neck, your eyes take a minute to adapt. You don't know quite what you were expecting but this was not it. Before you stands a small cottage surrounded by nothing but a wide-open field full of a rainbow of wildflowers. It was a beautiful little house with as much charm and beauty you'd expect from a place out in what seems like the middle of nowhere. It could be described as the perfect place to settle down.

"Surprise!" He was redder than a cherry tomato when he stepped into view. Both arms in the air as a sign of celebration but you were just rather... confused? Whose house was this and why had he brought you all the way out here?

"I don't get it?"

"We've been here for a while now so I thought we should get our own place or like, a better place. One where we don't have to worry about anyone else." His confidence appeared to develop with each word but his face was still powdered in a deep shade of pink. S this was your house? He'd decided to up and move without even consulting you? "So I got us a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. It kinda reminds me of the burrow only, y'know, smaller."

"It's ours?" His excitement is clear on his face and he quickly takes your hand. Pulling you along with him. "And that's not all."

"There's more?" Surely a whole house was enough. You were quite proud of Charlie for picking such a beautiful little place. Come summertime, you could already see yourself sitting among the flowers painting little pictures. You also wouldn't have to worry about muggles. Coming up on the front door, your boyfriend delivers you a little golden key. And with just a tiny degree of fear about what could be on the other side you unlock it. Much to your astonishment and disappointment, nothing is behind the door except the hallway leading inside. Charlie enters first and even as you follow, you half expect someone to jump out.

"I know I agreed not to make a big deal but how could I not?" He opens a door at the end of the hallway that leads to the kitchen. It's not a massive space but it's assuredly not small either, the whole place was already furnished but you recognise the surprise was truly what sat on the table. It was a two-tier cake covered in blue frosting including the words Happy Birthday scrawled across the top followed by your name.

"You... baked?"

"Mum sent it actually," Charlie chortled lightly as he wanders up behind you. Tossing a package of red with multicoloured polka-dots onto the table. "Sent this along too. Reckon it's a jumper or something."

"That was nice of her," You weren't sure of how to react to it all. Birthdays had never really been your thing but you appreciated that Mrs. Weasley had gone out of her way to make you something special.

"And from me..." He trails off and the sound of tiny tracks echo off the walls attended by an adorable yelp. Up to your feet slides an ash grey puppy who was more legs than anything else. It had bright blue eyes and floppy ears.

"You got me a dog?"

"I got us a dog- thought we needed a pet around here. I debated getting a crup but that'd be a disaster if your parents ever decide to visit." Crups were notorious for their dislike of muggles. You never understood why but he was right in his decision. The gesture was sweet but rather odd all things considered but still you smile. It was hard to be mad at something so cute and you weren't just talking about the dog. The puppy sits at your feet, wagging its little tail a mile a minute. There was no denying how adorable it was and at least it wasn't a dragon. Or a murtlap for that matter, those things were ugly. "You don't seem happy... do you not like him? I can take him back?" Kneeling, your hand drifts over the soft fur of the puppy's head. In response, the dog jumps up in an attempt to lick at your face. Your smile grows as you try to get away. "I think he likes you."

"What's his name?"

"Whatever you want? He's a Great Dane by the way." The puppy had calmed down a little and you stare as you ponder the perfect name for an ash grey Great Dane. "How about... Arlo?"

"Arlo?"

"Mhmm," You hum standing up straight. "And I'm plenty happy if not a little overwhelmed. You know how I feel when it comes to my birthday."

"I do," He nods casually. His palms snake around your waist drawing you flush against him "But I never want you to forget that someone cares about you- that I care about you so bloody much."

"I know you do," You give him a quick peck on the lips. "And I'm thankful for that and for all of this."

"Arlo is the perfect name, Happy Birthday" Your lips connect in a beautifully slow embrace that fills your body with warmth and as he pulls away, his forehead comes to rest against yours. The dog barking as it explores the kitchen. "I'm just so grateful that you decided to run away with me."

#Charlie Weasley x reader #Charlie Weasley #charlie weasley imagine #hogwarts mystery #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

178 notes · View notes

loveafterthefact · 4 years

Text

Love After the Fact Chapter 51: Fuck You, but Welcome to Daibazaal I Guess

Do you ever hate somebody and then you meet them and they're actually not that bad so you have to hate them for not being that bad?

Also Krolia is a good mom.

First Previous Next

“Mom!”

Keith launches himself at his mother, who holds him protectively close, whispering reassurances in his ear even as she glares accusingly at the elegant Altean behind him. The Altean in question merely raises an eyebrow, drapes Keith’s cloak over his arm, along with his own. He doesn’t seem troubled at all by her expression.

He’ll learn. But for now, she has her baby back.

“I’ve missed you,” her kit whispers, burying his face in her neck. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, kitten. So much.” She has, desperately. Krolia is a soldier, and now Imperial Advisor, but she is also a mother, and that instinct runs hot.

Like now, when she’s inspecting her kit for any signs of damage. He seems mostly okay, aside from his rapid heartbeat, a sign of some internal distress. Well-fed, though she’d like to see a bit more extra weight on him for his growth spurt and season. He’s healthy, though. Fur and hair soft and silky, breathing clear, and he smells clean.

Untouched. At that revelation, Krolia releases something she’s held pent up inside since her son was wrested away from her. The little whore of a prince didn’t touch her baby. He didn’t hurt her kit like that. Thank the gods.

But why? What does a Galra kit matter to an Altean prince?

Speaking of which, the prince is dictating instructions to his companions, sending a small Olkari kit to the Blade of Marmora’s technological research lab and another Altean to greet the imperial family.

“Why am I doing this instead of you?” the green-scaled Altean bemoans.

“Because, Adam, I’m going with Keith to the medical center so I can get some actual, useful information from a medical professional instead of your long-distance boyfriend.”

“Takashi is a physik!” Adam hisses. Keith hums, eyeing Adam with a renewed interest. Krolia doesn't let him go for a second.

“I didn’t realize a glorified botanist had knowledge of growth disorders.” The Altean prince raises an eyebrow, folds his arms. His eyes, to the little creature’s credit, shine with good humor, more playful than anything else. The two must be friends.

“...Fair point. I will go and greet the imperial family. However, you will be going and greeting your sister.”

“Yes, right after this. We need to see her scans so we know how much cuter our kids will be.”

In Krolia’s arms, Keith laughs, quiet and soft. He’s watching the Alteans’ antics with something horribly akin to fondness. “Thank you, Adam.”

“It’s only my job, your Majesty.”

“But you always do it flawlessly.”

The green-scaled Altean blushes faintly, mumbles, “Whatever. Go… learn how to grow or something.”

Adam saunters off with a spring in their step while the crown prince waves teasingly. “What are we going to do with him, beloved?”

“Give him a raise?”

“Hm. He definitely deserves it. Now, Imperial Advisor Krolia, could you please escort us to the medical center?”

“Certainly.” She keeps her arm around her son, the Altean happy to follow alongside. Krolia finds herself struggling to rectify this charming, bubbly creature to the insidious one she imagined. Perpetually smiling, the young prince runs his hands along the wall, tracing the lines of carvings and rubbing his fingertips against ancient paint long since sunk into the stone.

“You know, my boyhood friend, Lanval, came here with my fathers once? He never mentioned this.”

“I doubt he nor your fathers cared about our traditions or our culture. Your friend in particular cared for little more than gossip.” Krolia purses her lips.

“Yes, he said you two met. Lanval is not half so foolish as he seems, though a bit pompous. My fathers… They are many things, but anthropologists are not among them. The same can be said of our soldiers.” The prince sighs. “I hope one day we can be more than enemies to one another, but I fear it is a child’s dream.”

Krolia says nothing, but Keith hums sympathetically.

When they reach the medical center, they’re met by the head medic, Thace, a relatively young Galra cradling a very new kit in his arms. “It’s my morning break, so unless you’re actively dying or in labor, I don’t care.”

“Hello, Thace. My kit is suffering from a growth disorder and is in the midst of his final growth spurt,” Krolia tells him.

Thace, a bright-faced, genial creature and one Krolia is particularly fond of, sighs, brushes a finger down his child’s cheek. “Fine, but only because he’s a prince. Here, can you hold Raj for me?”

Lance blinks rapidly, alarmed as the medic hands him his newborn kit. Keith only smiles. “Number five looks good, Thace. Hope they eat your fingers, Lance.”

Thace guides Keith over to a chair, where he sits in with a quiet ‘thank you’. Krolia registers a spasm traveling up his leg, presumably up his spine and then down his arm. The near-grown kit grits his teeth to stifle a whimper, but his heartbeats flutter and pound. A rotating arm spins around him, scanning him from all possible angles. Keith’s visibly untroubled. He’s done this before.

“Aw, do you have pointy toofers? You got some pointy teef- Ouch! Oh, you do! Look at those toofers! Oh my goodness, you got such nice toofers!” Lance beams down at the infant, every line of his face, his body soft as Raj chews on his finger, drawing tiny beads of blood. Even Krolia has to concede that it's adorable to watch.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I-”

Lance shakes his head, smiling at the suddenly anxious medic. “Don’t worry about it. Though perhaps you have something else they can chew on?”

Thace hands the Altean prince a toy as he extricates his finger, an angry screech penetrating their ears in the moment of the exchange. As the kit chews happily on the toy, Lance turns his attention back to Keith, who’s smiling at Lance and the bundle in his arms. Krolia definitely hates that.

“So what’s to be done for him? Our alchemy was only able to do so much and painkillers have proven largely ineffective.”

Krolia’s eyes narrow, watching the tender expression on the prince’s face morph into worry. He’s not at all what she expected him to be. He’s much warmer than his biological father, with far more social grace than his step-father. Charming. Friendly. Charismatic.

And he didn’t touch her son.

It’s hard to hate him. She’ll do her best.

“Well, there is a serum that’s proven beneficial to kits in their eleventh growth spurts.”

“But?” Keith prompts. “There’s always a ‘but’.”

“But it causes excruciating pain for about half a varga.”

Lance adjusts his arms, cradling the kit with one arm, setting his free hand on Keith’s shoulder. “How does it work?”

“Well, Prince Yorak’s growth disorder affects more than just his growth plates. Obviously, without functional growth plates, his bones cannot grow properly. Additionally, with every growth spurt, a Galra’s metabolism slows down, making us hardier and more capable of surviving in the generally harsh environment of our planet. Prince Yorak’s metabolism is much higher, as he has missed a few growth spurts all together.”

“So wait. You’re not supposed to eat three meals a day?” Lance leans around to look his spouse in the face. “Do you have any sense of self-preservation at all? Or am I supposed to just magically know all this sh- stuff. And now you've got me almost swearing in front of the baby!”

“It never came up.” Keith shrugs, annoyingly indifferent even in face of the Altean’s exasperated expression. At least Krolia and the prince can agree on something.

“I’m not going to care when he injects you with some horror goop.”

“Yes you will-”

“Your Majesties.” They fall silent, sheepish as they turn their attention back to the medic. “If I am to treat you, Prince Yorak, please understand that this is not a one-time thing. You will require an injection every time your pain returns. However, I should tell you. Whether you accept treatment or not, you may experience fertility issues including difficulty conceiving, high miscarriage rate, and higher likelihood of stillbirth.”

Keith's gaze slips back to Lance and the tiny kit in his arms. Krolia looks away, thinking of the kits she lost, Keith’s siblings who never saw the world, never took that first breath of air. Now her son is facing that same fate.

“Keith?” The boys turn to her. “You should do it.”

“Obviously I’m going to do it. I don’t care about pain. The pain is temporary.” Keith reaches out a hand, and after taking a moment to adjust Raj, Lance grips it tight.

The kit Lance is still cradling coos, yawning wide as they wrap their hand around one of his fingers, settling into sleep.

“Well, it looks like you’ve no choice, beloved. I can’t leave until they let go of me.”

Thace laughs, gripping his small friend's shoulder tight. “Prince Yorak, you’re going to end up being the disciplinarian parent. I hope you know that.”

“I can retrain him.” Keith uses Lance’s hand to help himself to his feet, staggering a bit as he works his way over to one of the gurneys. The prince hands Raj back to their bearer with a smile and a thank you.

Krolia sighs, surrendering to the tender expression on her son’s face as he settles his head in Lance's lap. The prince smiles down, worry lining his eyes. "I'll be right here, beloved."

"I know. Just don't tell anyone if I scream."

"Never. It'll be our secret." Lance's shoulders line themselves with tension as Thace cuts off one of Keith's sleeves, shaves away a patch of fur, inserts a temporary port.

"This port will last around three movements, but you shouldn't need it more than two. Just try to keep it dry. And, while you're paying attention to me, do not go to your idiot savant of a littermate for season advice. You come to me or your mother, understand? It a whole different thing when you have a mate."

"That's a good point, beloved. Shiro is woefully inept."

"He really is. But he's a good guy. Like you." Keith smiles, dark eyes sliding up to Lance's. Krolia sighs, defeated. Her kit wants the Altean, whether she likes it or not. She doesn’t need to be friendly, but for Keith's sake, she’ll tolerate him.

For now. Until he screws up. Then she'll beat his ass.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

10 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 5 years

Note

Can I request 42 with Sternclay? I love the way you write everyone it’s adorable ((42. i found a cat shivering in the snow and you’re the cutest vet i’ve ever seen))

The snow morphs into sleet as Stern hurries down the street, the wind off the lake biting his neck. According to the directions he glanced at, the building he needs should be on this block.

“Mew” Says his pocket.

“It’s alright, we’ll get you warmed up soon.”

The sign on the door of West Elm Veterinary declares they’re open until six. Relief shakes some of the damp from his shoulders, though the wind deposits another round before he manages to get inside.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The young, blonde woman behind the counter looks him over, “I'm gonna guess this is an emergency?”

“In a way, yes. I, I found a kitten on my way home and it seems to be in very bad shape. I’m so sorry I don’t have an appointment, but this was the vet closest to home.”

“That’s okay, we don’t have any remaining appointments today, and I feel safe saying we’d rather you bring someone in than we get to go home a bit early. Let me go grab Dr. Cobb.”

“Thank you so much.” He does his best to smile through his exhaustion and cold as she ducks into a back room. The office is small, and he sees on two vets listed: Dr. Cobb and Dr. Newton. But it’s warm and clean, walls decorated with pet medicine advertisements and PSAs, two shelves on the far wall holding special diet pet foods.

The wall behind the reception desk is lined with thank you cards and photos, and as Stern peers at them his pocket meows once again, the noise weaker than before.

“Shhh” he pulls his jacket closer, hoping to pass on more body warmth, “it’s alright, the vet will be here soon.”

“He will indeed.”

Stern looks at the now-open exam room door. Leaning against it is one of the most handsome men he’s ever seen. He’s tall, looks like he could bench press Stern, with a short-clipped, coppery beard and shaggy dark hair that he’s gathered into a bun. The warm brown eyes and the reassuring smile are just the icing on the beefcake.

“Kitten?”

“Excuse me?” Sterns voice creeps up. No one’s called him that in years.

“You’re the one who brought in the kitten, right?” Dr.Cobb repeats, patient as can be.

“Oh, yes. She’s in my jacket. I didn’t have anywhere else to keep her.”

“Good call. Let’s bring her in here and have a look.”

Stern follows him into the exam room, and gingerly lifts the kitten from his pocket. She looks impossibly scraggly in the bright light. Her eyes are crusted over and she shivers in Sterns hands.

Dr.Cobb holds out his palms, and they’re large enough that the kitten nearly fits in one of them.

“Hey, little one.” He sets her down on the metallic table, begins checking her vitals, “what happened to you, huh?”

God, his voice is deep and comforting and if it’s affecting the feline the way it’s affecting Stern, the cat will be better in no time.

“Where was she when you found her?”

“Behind a dumpster at the EL station. I looked to see if there was a mother nearby, or other kittens, but I couldn’t find them. And honestly, based on how thin and dirty she looked I assumed she’d been on her own a bit.”

“Think you’re probably right. She’s malnourished for sure, and dehydrated, if you can believe it given how wet it’s been. Got an eye infection, hopefully that’s all the illness she’s dealing with.” The vet rubs the kittens forehead and she lets out an unsteady “mewp.”

“We’ll keep her overnight, get some fluids in her, and go from there. Do you want us to contact you with an update?”

“Yes please.” Stern rattles of his name and phone number and Dr.Cobb jots them down.

“Thanks, hopefully we have good news tomorrow. Dani can help you wrap up out front.”

Just as Stern finishes paying (in spite of Dani saying they have a pool of funds for caring for strays. After all, what good is his job if he can’t use the money to care for helpless animals), a tender baritone voice calls out, “Joseph, hold on a sec.”

He turns, finds the vet holding out a an umbrella and a travel mug smelling faintly of mint.

“For the road.” He smiles.

“Thank you, uh...”

“Barclay.” The vet supplies.

Stern takes the offered items, “Thank you, Barclay. I’ll keep an ear out for the updates.”

----------------------------------

His phone rings at lunch, as he’s eating a reheated sandwich.

“Stern.”

“Hi Mr. Stern, this is Dani at West Elm Vet. I’ve got some good news about the kitten. She’s stable and eating, and we got fluids into her. Her eyes are still a little wonky, but she’s already getting some energy back.”

“That’s wonderful. Uh, would it be alright if I came by to see her this evening?”

He hears the smile on the other end, “Of course.”

When arrives at the vet, he brings the washed travel mug, the umbrella, and a small box of gourmet truffles.

“Here to see the kitten.”

Barclay grins at him across the counter.

“Yes. And I wanted to return these. The truffles are a thank you to you all for your help.”

“Ooh, love their stuff.” Barclay eyes the chocolate box.

“Barclay I swear if you eat it all before I get any-” Dani appears from a back room, returning to her post at the computer.

“I know, I know, you’ll let that one chihuahua loose in my office.” Barclay hands her the box, gestures for Stern to follow him. They head down a small hallway to a little boarding space for cats. The kitten, clean and and snoozing in the warmth, looks like a sandy brown, tiny tumbleweed.

“I hadn’t realized how big her paws are.” Stern pets the glass softly,not wanting to wake the feline.

“She might grow into them, or they might stay big compared to her. I’m a little worried about her eyes; if that infection doesn’t clear up, she could lose one, maybe both.”

“Oh dear.” Stern murmurs, tracing an ear through the glass, “that hardly seems fair, does it? It’s not your fault, little cat. If I’d found you sooner maybe…” He sighs.

“Hey, none of that.” A warm hand rests on his shoulder, “she’s probably alive right now because of you. And she’s a tough little thing, she’ll manage.”

Without thinking, Stern rests his hand atop Barclays, “thank you.”

The hand squeezes his quickly, and then it’s gone.

--------------------------

Stern’s routine changes over the next weeks. Once, and usually twice, per week he visits the vet to check on the kitten and her caretakers. He starts bringing a late afternoon pick-me up for Dani from the local coffee shop, and whatever gourmet candy or snack he thinks Barclay might like. If it’s slow, Barclay will make him tea and the two of them will chat while he fusses over the kitten. She grows stronger, looks less like she’s been run through a washing machine, but her infection claims her right eye.

Stern still thinks she’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

Well, second cutest. But it’s hard for anyone or anything to compete with Barclay. Especially when he laughs or sends a wink Sterns way.

Stern starts bringing toys for the kitten, catnip fish for her to hold between her large paws, jingly plastic spheres to help her practice hunting and chasing with one eye. When she’s finally old enough and well enough to be put up for adoption, Stern helps take the photos to go up on the Humane Society page.

Three days later, he’s ready to take a chance. And as luck would have it, Barclay is at the front desk alone when he walks in.

“Hey, Joseph.”

“Hello. I’m here to check on my little friend. And, ah, to ask if you would like to go to dinner with me tomorrow.”

Barclay stands, starts walking around the counter with a funny smile, “you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Bad.”

“She got adopted this morning, so that stuffed hedgehog in your coat might not get much use.”

“Oh that’s, that’s wonderful!” He means it, he really does. He just wishes he could have scritched her ears one more time.

“But the good news” Barclay rests one on his shoulder while the other brushes a strand of hair back into place, “is that you and I have a date on Friday.”

Stern beams, even as Dani’s voice comes from the back room, “I TOLD you he was into you!”

Dinner the next night is perfect. Stern’s never seen Barclay in anything other than work clothes, and nearly walks into a pole when he catches the first glimpse of the other man waiting at the crosswalk in his jacket and slacks.

They talk easily, Barclays rumbling laugh filling the plush restaurant booth and sending sparks up Sterns fingers. To his surprise, Barclay asks if he’d like to come back to his place for “coffee”. He eagerly accepts, even if the meal and the company has him feeling sluggish and dreamy.

“So” Barclay flips on the light, revealing a modest apartment that looks like a north woods cabin was dumped inside it, “this is my place. Figure we can start out with coffee on the couch and then” he blushes for the first time that night, “see how things go. But first, let me introduce you to my roommate.”

“Roommate?”

“Mew!”

Stern makes a somewhat higher than normal shriek of delight as a familiar, one-eyed ball of fluff barrels into his legs, purring happily as he scoops her up and cuddles her.

“I was due to adopt one of the strays eventually. Bigfoot here turned out to be the one.” He bats at the cats still-oversized paws, scratches the her head as he nuzzles the top of Sterns hair.

“It wasn’t a ploy to get me to come over?” Stern teases.

Barclay chuckles, “That did cross my mind. Call it a bonus piece of good luck.”

Stern ends his night wonderfully. He spends the first hour happily and handsily making out with Barclay on the couch while Bigfoot gnaws and chases her new stuffed hedgehog. And then he and Barclay fall asleep, cuddled up beneath a heavy knit blanket, with Bigfoot nestled between them.

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #winter aus #veterinary AU

84 notes · View notes

aria-i-adagio · 5 years

Text

Take Every Stab You Can Take

Masterpost

Fandom: The Arcana

Chapter Rating: T

A few hours later, the irony of the Countess coming to me for a solution to her sleeplessness is confirmed. My mind paces through a cycle of ruminations: what did the Countess expect of me - now that I had accepted her hospitality? Could I play any role in having a man killed? No, I’d never sleep again. Of course, I might never sleep again anyway. That question is perennial. What had the cards been trying to caution Asra about? What about Asra had Julian been trying to caution me about? How incredibly stupid did you have to be to consider advice from someone who had just broken into your home? And why the hell had he looked so very familiar?

I sit up with a start as a weight drops onto my legs. I look down and blink rapidly in surprise when I see Faust’s familiar shape coiling up in my lap.

“Friend!”

“Faust?” I ask softly. “Is that you?” Certainly I had fallen asleep and this was a dream. Faust should be with Asra.

She lifts her head and bops her nose against mine before licking my chin. “Here!”

I scratch under her chin, and she tilts her head to the side, looking incredibly satisfied with this outcome. “Well, I’m glad to see you. Where's Asra?” She twitches her tongue against my fingers then slides out of my lap and to the floor. Of course, there was no simple answer to that question. It was a question about Asra. Turning about at the doorway, Faust bobs her head at me.

“Come with.”

Before I can throw the covers back, she’s slithered out the door. I jump out of bed and snatch the robe from the back of the sofa, tossing it over the underclothes that I had stripped down to for sleeping in. Faust is generally a sensible snake, but I don’t care to find out what would happen if she ran into a guard, or the Count’s hounds, or that macabre thing that had spoken to me in the abandoned wing.

When I push open the door into the hallway, she’s waiting at the closest corner, watching and waiting for me to follow. I walk quickly down the hallway, hoping that I don’t encounter any of the guards. Faust stays far enough ahead of me that I can’t reach her, but close enough that I don’t lose sight of her either. She leads me out onto a veranda and then down into the garden. Finally, I catch up to her. She’s coiled in the branches a willow tree growing beside a fountain.

“Faust. Get down from there.” I hold out my arms, but she’s just a bit too high for me to reach and clearly uninterested in coming down from the tree. Stymied, I pace around the tree, trailing my fingers along the bark. At a break in the pattern of the bark, I stop. There’s a scar in the bark, at just the height for someone to have carved in it while sitting by the tree, staring at the fountain. I crouch down and trace my fingers over the scar, peering at in the dim light. The cuts in the tree bear a magical signature. It feels . . . like Asra?

I gather a small sphere of light into my palm. It flares to life just long enough for me to read the marks in the tree - my name. Why is my name carved into a tree in the palace garden? And there’s something behind it, a trace of magic beyond Asra’s signature, something that counteracted my light spell for the second time this evening. When I close my eyes for a moment, I can see Asra kneeling by the tree, knife in his hand and tears in his eyes. A waking dream? The ghost of a memory? It’s pouring rain, and he’s drenched to the bone, shivering like a lost kitten. Asra! A familiar voice that I can’t quite place yells his name within the memory. What the hell are you doing out here? Two large hands grab Asra’s shoulders and the images fade away.

Perplexed, I move to the fountain and sit on the edge of the pool of water. Faust shows no sign of coming down from the tree, and I don’t want to abandon her in the garden. Furthermore, if I go back to my room, that memory is only going to dog me with a million more questions. At least, the softly splashing water is soothing. I stare at the tremoring surface. My name is carved in a tree - carved into a tree with the signature of Asra’s magic. Why would that be? The scarring on the tree is partly grown over. Four years? Three? Three seems to be the magic number as of late. Asra had never mentioned spending time at the Palace, but then what I don’t know about Asra outweighs what I do know by several orders of magnitude. And why was he carving my name and sobbing in the rain?

I touch my finger to the surface of the water of the water and absentmindedly draw a small circle. The expected ripples in the water slow, then something unexpected glows beneath it. I pull back from the water, and then lean closer, surprised by the effect of my touch. An image appears, a simple swirl of colors that slowly resolves into Asra’s face. His violet eyes go wide with surprise for a moment, then he smiles and speaks.

“Dema, I was just thinking of you.”

I almost fall backwards off the edge of the fountain in surprise. I’ve read about scrying before, but it isn’t something I’ve ever tried. To have done it essentially by mistake is a shock. “Asra? I can hear you? Where are you?”

“Somewhere.” He shrugs. What little I can see of the space behind him is a riot of colors not usually seen together. “Nowhere in particular.”

“How -?”

“How are we speaking?” He rubs his chin and smirks. “Did you want to talk to me? Magic is just what you do to make the outcome you desire become reality.”

Of course, I wanted to talk to him! Not just to him - with him. Finding that tree - finding the memory etched into its surface had triggered some deep well of anger in me. I wanted him to explain things, explain himself for once. Just for once, and then maybe I would be satisfied.

“Asra, I have so many questions.”

“Did Faust find you?”

I nod. I'm happy to have her with me, but she's not especially good at answering complex questions in a way I understand, but then, snake problems just aren’t as complicated as human ones. I shouldn’t expect her to give me the answers that Asra continues to refuse. That’s not her nature, much less her responsibility.

“Good. I wasn't sure about sending her, but more I thought about that card reading, the more it seemed you might need a friend.”

I adore Faust, but putting that off on her seems a bit unfair. She's a smart snake, but still a snake. It’s a bit of a cop out on Asra’s part. More than a cop out. At least some things are certain. Death, taxes, and Asra being evasive.

“Where are you, Dema? I think I recognize that tree behind you.”

“Would you like to explain why my name is carved into it?”

Asra's cheeks redden, and he glances away. “I, um, why are you at the palace?”

Ignoring his question seems like fair play. “Asra, the carving feels like you, like your magic. Why is it here? When were you here?”

“I, um, during the plague. That was -” His eyes meet mine again. They’re open for a moment. He clearly has more to say, but then they close off, hardening to amethyst as he carefully considers his words. “- a strange time for me.”

“There was some sort of memory - I think - hidden in the tree. You were in the rain, crying. Where was I?”

Asra’s eyes widen, and for the briefest of moments, it looks like he might panics. Then something shifts behind him, and he looks back over his shoulder. “Oh, time to go.”

Seriously? “What the fuck, Asra!”

“I’ll be home soon. You can ask me anything you want then. Take care, Dema.”

The water churns again and then he’s gone. I flick my fingers through the surface in frustration. Faust slithers up my leg and into my lap. “Asra?”

“Yes, for all the good that did me.” I groan. Sometimes it feels like asking him simple questions makes everything only more complicated, and there’s a dark little ball in the pit of my stomach again, bitter and sticky, like liquorice left out in the sun. Faust coils around my shoulders and bumps her head against my chin, and I stroke the top of her head. At least Faust is with me; I don’t feel quite as alone.

Asra had said that magic was what you did to make what you desire happen. I had wanted to speak to him. Had he also wanted to speak to me? And the memory concealed within the tree. Was that also somehow a response to what I wanted? Information about the past. Much like Asra’s non answers, the moment in time it showed was more frustrating than enlightening. With a sigh, I stand up from the fountain. “Should we try to sleep again, Faust?”

Her tongue brushes my earlobe. “Sleep.”

Sleep is a good idea, if only sleep will cooperate. I find my way back to my room and curl back up in bed with Faust resting on a pillow next to me. Stroking my fingertips over her scales slowly calms me, and despite continuing to fret about Asra’s whereabouts, I’m slowly pulled into a dream.

The shop is warm with afternoon light. I’m pouring clear alcohol over herbs packed into jars to extract their properties into tinctures. Asra comes in through the back of the shop and sets a basket down on the counter.

“What do you have there?”

He pulls a tiny red strawberry from the basket and holds it out to me. I lean forward and close my lips around the tips of his fingers, taking the berry from his hand. It’s concentrated summer.

“Strawberries.” The kind that grow in the forest are tiny, but so much sweeter than the large ones that can be found in the market.

Asra smiles. “I thought you’d like those. There are also some mushrooms. I wanted to make sure there was plenty of food in the shop before -”

“-before you leave again.” I screw the lid down tightly on the jar I’ve just filled. “Won’t you take me with you this time? I want to be with you.”

Her turns my face toward him, fingertips cool and gentle against my jaw. Casual, affectionate, oh so confusing touch. “I wish I could, it’s just . . . it’s too risky.”

“I’d take the risk.” Here the dream turns away from the memory. I turn my face pressing my lips against his palm. “Why is okay for you but not for me?”

“I know more about where I’m going.” He drags his thumb along my bottom lip - just the way I always want him to. Then reaches back in the basket looking for something.

“Asra.”

He looks up, holding a tiny woodland flower delicately in his fingers. Goldenseal. A deep rooted bitter herb, but one that has multiple uses. “What is it, Dema?”

Words that I’m too vulnerable to say in the waking world spill from my mouth. “Why do you leave me all the time? Do you want me?”

He smiles and tucks the flower behind my ear. “You’re more honest in dreams it seems?” He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “Sleep, Dema. I really can’t wait to see you again.”

Suddenly, there’s something in my face, painfully bright and golden, and I try to cover my eyes in a desperate attempt to save myself from whatever it is. Only a few moments later my head catches up with the realisation it’s probably just sunlight, and it’s morning, and that everything is fine, even if the surroundings are too soft and smooth. Not my bed. Right. Palace bed. Palace. I blink stupidly into the luxury. This bed is too soft and the sheets are too fine. Thinking of Faust a heartbeat later, I look around the room, but her sinuous form is nowhere to be seen.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” Portia greets me cheerfully as she rearranges the curtains pulling sheers over the windows in place of the heavy brocade hangings. “Milady is expecting you at breakfast.” She turns back around and picks up a fine gauzy blouse from the back of a chair. “And I come bearing gifts! Milady thought you might like to have something more appropriate for the palace.”

“Ah, yes, appropriate, good word.” I rub sleep from my eyes. The Countess’s distaste for my clothing had been clear enough the prior evening. Reaching out, I touch the blouse. The material is silky smooth beneath my fingertips, finer than anything I can remember wearing. It’s dyed a vivid blue green, a hue that I would never be able to afford on my own. Most of the garment is sheer; but the bodice is backed with a slightly heavier batiste and elaborately embroidered with a swirling design of flowers and songbirds. Laces criss cross the back to pull it into a close fit. Portia hands it to me and holds up a pair of knitted leggings.

“Come on, wash your face, and I’ll help you get dressed.”

I stumble out of bed and to the small bath off to the side of the room, mumbling that I could dress myself. Splashing water over my face alleviates the worst of my waking grumpiness and the hot cup of coffee Portia pushes into my hands when I emerge helps significantly.

She smiles indulgently. “I didn’t know if you were a morning person. I am, but my older brother was never fit to be spoken to until he had some coffee in him.”

I down most of the coffee in a single gulp and nod my thanks, before pulling the leggings on underneath the robe I'm still wearing. The wool they're made from is fine, more smooth than scratchy, but with enough texture that I can tell that I’m wearing something.

“Now, let’s see if this blouse fits you.” Portia takes the cup away from me and sets it aside on a small bed next to the table. I pull the blouse over my head, marveling again at the softness of the fabric. Portia fusses with the laces in the back, pulling the fabric tight round me and readjusting the pleats that fall around my waist until she’s satisfied. “There. That color really does suit you.” Her smile is bright and please, but subtle enough for me to believe it.

“The sash has pockets built into it,” Portia explains as she hurriedly wraps the carmine fabric around my waist and deftly knots it on one side. “Now -” She picks up a comb. “I just need to get your hair and you’ll be ready for the day.” She pushes me down on the sofa and stands behind me working the snarls out of my hair, continuing to talk as she does.

“I hope you slept well. Those hounds were up most of the night, prowling the halls and barking at the air. At least, no one could find anything to upset them so.”

And fortunately, the hounds hadn’t found me or Faust. “I slept well enough.” It’s not a lie; I just hadn’t slept for very long. Hopefully, there will be more coffee on the Countess’s breakfast table.

“That’s good to hear.” She picks up a lock on either side of my face and works them into a simple plaits that will hold the rest of my hair out of my face while leaving it loose. “I think milady has quite a bit planned for you today. There.” She walks back around to the front of the sofa and studies my face. “You look lovely. Last touch - I brought a few different sizes of slippers to see which would fit.”

I eye the delicately styled shoes she’s holding with skepticism; they'd fall apart the minute they encountered a real street. “I think I’d rather keep my sandals. If that’s okay.”

Portia shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

I slide my feet into my worn sandals and tuck a few things into the sash. Asra’s cards, a small piece of jade that I carried for luck and to fidget with when I felt nervous. Portia waits patiently by the door for me. She smiles broadly when I’m ready, then leads me back through the palace halls to the dining room.

~~~

The dining room is still filled with natural light despite the change in hours. Glancing up I notice a series of clerestory windows facing to the east. Opposite of them, a series of mirrors reflects the morning light back down into the chamber itself. Clever.

“Ah, good morning, Dema.” The Countess is already seated at the head of the table. A delicate teapot and a fine bone china cup are placed on the table in front of her, along with a tiered tray of pastries. “I see you’re admiring my windows and mirrors. The design is my own - I found that the sun improves my morning disposition.”

“It’s quite inventive, my lady.” The thoughtful detail allows the room to take advantage of both morning and evening light. I would not have expected the Countess to have designed it herself. Of course, the idea alone could have been hers, the actual craftsmanship and labor left up to some anonymous, uncredited architect. That would not surprise me in the least.

She rises from the table and circles around me with the elegant movements of a predatory cat. “And how do you like the outfit I had sent for you? Quite an improvement. What you wore yesterday was most unkind you.”

I held back a protest that I liked my clothes from yesterday. After all, these were quite lovely and actually comfortable. And, yes, it’s true that they were more palace appropriate than my street clothes. “These are very fine. Thank you.”

She smiles, again calling to mind the image of a big cat looking pleased with itself as it toys with its prey. “I do have an eye for fashion. Wouldn’t you agree, Portia?”

“An excellent eye, milady.” Portia nods at the Countess and then winks at me.

The Countess returns to her seat and gestures for me to join her at the table. She companionably fills the delicate cup at my place with tea. “Would you like sugar? Milk?”

“May I taste it first?” I’m overemphasize the intonation, trying too hard to indicate irony. There’s not enough caffeine in my system yet to do it well.

“Of course.”

I lift the cup to my lips. It’s deeply floral, scented with rose petals. After a single sip, I decide that either sugar of milk would destroy the fine balance of flavors. “Neither, my lady.��

“Please, call me Nadia. If we are to be working so closely together, there’s no need to stand on formality. You will consent to work with me, won’t you?”

I set the cup back down. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Oh?” She arches her eyebrows but lifts a sugar dusted pastry with a pair of gold tongs and set it down on the plate in front of me. “Try that. It goes particularly well with the tea.”

I bite into the pastry. She’s correct that it perfectly compliments the tea. “I need to know more before I decide.”

“Very well. Take until the end of the day to decide, but I must insist on an answer by then.”

“That’s quite fair, my lady.”

She sits back in her chair and folds her hands in her lap. Her calm in the face of my continued deferral of a decision is disconcerting. She just have something up her sleeve.

“For now, dear Dema, I will be content with another reading. Just a single card will do. I trust that my fortune has changed.”

“That request I can accommodate.” I wipe my fingers carefully on a napkin, clear a space on the table, cover it with another clean napkin, and retrieve Asra’s deck from the sash pocket I tucked it into. After shuffling the deck carefully, I offer it to Nadia. She turns over the top card revealing the reversed Queen of Swords. I move my fingers over the card and breath deeply and slowly, letting it whisper to me. The Countess is not going to like what the Queen has to say, but I don’t hesitate before speaking.

“You have created an illusion of control for yourself. Perhaps you actually believe it to be the truth, but you have allowed those around you to control you while your own inner voice turns back on itself.”

There’s an audible gasp from Portia, but the Countess only looks intrigued. “So that’s what she has to say to me.” She picks up the card and holds it up, studying the design carefully. “You may have heard that I don’t care for fortune tellers. That’s not quite true. I only disdain those who say whatever they think their client wishes to hear. Or -” She fixes her red eyes on me. “Those who say whatever they wish under the guise of interpreting the cards.” She stands and straightens her skirts. “Have you broken your fast sufficiently?”

I nod. I don’t usually eat a lot for breakfast and the tea and pastries had been filling. I finish the last bite of the second, a crisp and delicately flaky roll that was crunchy with almonds, fragrant with rose water, with just enough currants to offset its sweetness. The Countess smiles and stands from her chair.

“Come. Stroll with me.”

I follow her through the hallways. Portia is just behind us a ring of keys jaggling in her belt. We stop in front an ornate door. A tree branches across it in bas relief, limbs twisting into an elegant pattern. The Countess stops and traces the design with her manicured fingertips.

“Can you read, Dema?”

“Read? Yes, milady.” I try to hide my irritation with her question. I very much can read - a couple of languages well, and I can skim text fairly well in at least one other with the aid of a dictionary.

“Excellent. Literacy is common in Prakra, but I have found that isn’t the case in Vesuvia. I plan to found a school to remedy that sooner rather than later.”

“And who will attend your school, my lady?” The urchins in the street who were occupied with finding a bare minimum of sustenance. The slightly luckier youth who had found apprenticeships and worked ten hour days. A school was a lovely idea, but there would be more involved than simply founding it, if it were actually to be of any use to the populace.

The Countess ignores my question. “Portia, the keys, please.”

Portia steps forward and begins to turn keys in a series of locks. I wait beside the Countess giving her a skeptical look. She continues to smile at me, but the expression is somehow detached from where we’re standing, lost in her own thoughts. “I think you’ll like this room, and that it will assist in the investigation.”

Portia pushes open the heavy door with ease. Inside is a library. The ceiling is high and vaulted. Shelves reach high of the walls with spiral staircases leading up to a second floor. I gasp in pleasure. So many books! Such a pity that they were locked away.

The Countess sweeps into the room, a luxurious shade haunting these luxurious halls, and comes to a halt at a desk tucked into an alcove. She turns to me. “During the plague, the late Count and I invited anyone who wished to use the Palace’s resources to research possible cures into the plague. Doctors, alchemists, even some magicians worked here to try to concoct some solution. I understand that your master was one them.” She lays her hand on one of the desks. “Dr. Devorak worked from here. I’ve been through its contents several times without finding any clues, but perhaps you’ll have more luck. Any other desk is available for your use. Portia will have a lunch sent up to you.”

The Countess leaves, reminding me of a cat again, but now one that has tired of tormenting its prey - for the time being, at least. I set my thoughts of her aside and run my fingers over the top of the desk. The alcove has a window that opens out onto a view of the gardens and the fountain - a good place to work. The surface is free of the dust one would expect after three years. Clearly the contents have been gone through recently.

Behind me, Portia clears her throat. When I turn around she’s holding out a small bundle. “Writing materials. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask any of the staff. We’ve been instructed to provide any assistance you need.”

“Thank you, Portia.”

She smiles brightly. “Do you have any requests for lunch?”

I pause for a moment. Everything the palace kitchens has been wonderful. Lunch should be a delightful surprise. But . . . “Perhaps another couple of those almond pastries with whatever else is being served. And tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Portia winks one bright blue eye at me. “No trouble at all. Good luck. I hope you can figure out what really happened.”

Once she’s left, I survey the contents of the desk. Several books are set aside on the shelf. A portfolio is tucked neatly to one side, and rolled papers are stuffed into pigeon holes. I sit down and take out one of the rolled pieces of paper, spreading it out on the desk and weighing down one of the edges with a inkwell that’s long gone dry. The handwriting is practically undecipherable. I trace my finger along the letters, but all I manage to make out is the salutation of a letter. “Dear sister -” One detail about the mysterious doctor; although, not exactly one that will help with sorting out past events. With a sigh, I curl the letter back up and return it to its cubby.

I flip open the portfolio. It’s a series of sketches - mostly anatomical drawings, although I recognize a few botanical rendering among them. One drawing is a simple outline of a human body with scrawled notes pointing to different parts. I hold the paper up to light. One note reads ‘hematoma’ with arrows pointing to the knee and elbow joints. Very little here either. I flip through the other drawing. One is a series of spirals that I can’t identify. The design is rather lovely, but the paper itself has a curious, tremoring energy to it that fascinated me. I close my eyes, hoping for something like what had been hidden in the tree, but there’s no response. With a sign, I roll the sketch up and tuck it away in my sash before setting the portfolio aside and running my fingers along the books. Their spines also vibrate with a combination of hope and despair. One though feels more familiar than the others. Asra?

I pull that book from the others and open it at random. The page is falls open on is another complicated looking diagram. Again there are marginal notes, but these are interspaced with tiny doodles, recognizable as beetles, if I peer closely and squint. The page feels even more strongly of Asra. I lay both hands on it, palms open, hoping the energy there is hiding some ghost of a memory that I can recover. When I close my eyes, a hazy scene unfolds behind them.

Dr. Devorak - Julian - is hunched over the desk, muttering to himself. He looks up and over to one corner of the room. Asra is sprawled across a pile of cushions, lazing in the sun with his eyes closed. “Asra, maybe you could come me your opinion on this, instead of just daydreaming.”

Asra opens his eyes and gets to his feet with a feline stretch. “I’m not just daydreaming.”

Julian sighs loudly. “I’m serious. Lucio wants results, and if he doesn’t get them . . . Asra, I’m not sure I can protect you.”

Asra leaves Faust behind in the sunlight and meanders over to the desk. He leans over Julian’s shoulder and runs his fingers over the page. “Why, Ilya, if you wanted to share your fantasies you could have just told me.”

“Asra, this is a medical device, it’s intended to transfuse blood from a healthy person to -” He groans as Asra’s hand leaves the page and runs along the inside of his thigh.

“Relax, Ilya.” Asra’s teeth close around Julian’s earlobe. There’s a sharp intake of breath from Julian, and Asra lets go. “You work too hard.” He steps around the desk chair, pushing it back and straddling Julian’s lap. “There’s a point of diminishing returns.” His hands slide over Julian’s shoulder and around his neck, pulling him down into an insistent kiss.

Julian sinks into the kiss, eyelids dropping closed, mouth falling open. His hands slide up Asra’s chest, then he shakes his head and pushes Asra back. Just an inch or so. “Asra, we’ve got to find something. He’s desperate, and desperate people -”

“Will do desperate things,” Asra finishes. “Do you think I don’t know that, Ilya?” Both his hands creep into Julian’s hair, massaging his scalp. Julian’s head tilts down, forehead pressed to Asra’s. “Do you think we aren’t desperate too?”

I open my eyes as the memory fades out. That was . . . well, not exactly surprising. And perhaps sheds some light on why Julian had been trying to find Asra the other night. I pick up the book and get up from the desk, pacing around the library while I flip through the pages, hoping to stumble across something else hidden in the pages. Could any of my own memories be hidden in a book? Or somewhere within the rings of a tree? I certainly haven’t encountered anything like this around the shop; although, I had often wondered what was hiding in the attic space.

By the middle of the afternoon, I’m curled up in Asra’s pile of pillows, letting my mind drift and wishing Asra was here. I haven’t uncovered much other than that Julian was a diligent researcher, with a penchant for drawing in the margins of books. And that one tantalizing memory somehow preserved in the pages. Whatever had happened between Asra and the doctor, it had clearly fallen apart in a rather spectacular manner. In the memory, Asra’s behavior was as guarded and evasive as ever, but Julian’s reference to protecting him caught my attention. From what? And why?

The library door groans as it folds back open on itself. I sit up as Portia bustles in. “Taking a break, Dema? That’s just as well. Milady is requesting your presence on the veranda.” As I stand up, she circles me, rearranging the fold and pleats of my clothes. “Come on. We don’t want to make her wait.”

Portia pulls me back through the hallways at a rapid clip. I haven’t seen her this hurried - not even this morning. The Countess’s mood must have changed significantly from the detached amusement of the morning. She is standing on the veranda when she arrive, hands folded on the railing and looking out over the garden.

“Ah, Dema. I hope that you had a productive day in the library.”

“I found some interesting things.”

“But you still haven’t decided whether you will assist me?”

I phrase my answer carefully. “If I can help you uncover the truth, my lady, I will do so.” I have no interest in helping to condemn someone who may be innocent, but something about the few clues I’ve found suggest that the truth of what occurred three years ago is as important as Artemis had suggested. Not just for the Countess, but for me as well.

“You still wonder just how I intend to use your talents to find the doctor.”

“I do.”

She turns back to the garden. “I’ve spent the day thinking on that question as well. And I’ve devised a test that may assist both of us in making a decision about whether we can work together. I’ve heard that a magician can track a person simply by having a item of personal importance.”

“My lady -”

She cuts off my protest with an upheld hand. “Don’t worry if you’ve never attempted such a feat. You’re about to do so. I’ve arranged a bit of a hunt for you. A game if you will. Prey!” She somehow projects her voice in a way that indicates her control of the gardens and everything within them. The tyrant of her miniature world. “Come forward.”

Beside me, Portia murmurs softly to herself. “That explains the costumes.”

Two figures emerge from the hedges that form the garden maze. One is dressed as a rabbit, the other as a deer. Both costumes are fanciful, intricately detailed, but clearly representative of the common prey animals.

“You may remove your masks.”

Both figures take off their masks. As they lower their eyes, I recognize the two guards who stopped me on the bridge yesterday. Neither looks self assured or smug now. “My lady -” the male guard, dressed as a deer, protests. “This is embarrassing.”

“Silence. You were intolerably rude to my guest yesterday. This is nothing more than the result of that behavior.”

“Countess, they were only doing their job.”

Her head whips around to fix me with a stern look. “No, they were only indulging their own egos.”

I fail to see how she isn’t indulging her own ego with the present game, but I’m not sure that accusation would help anyone at the moment. “They are tasked with protecting you, my lady. They didn’t know who I was.”

“They were rude to you, were they not? Perhaps you can suggest a more fitting punishment.”

“Oh no, my lady. This is fine.” The female guard nudges her companion.

“Um, yes, it’s an honor really.”

“Anything to serve you.”

Both replace the masks over their faces as the Countess turns back around to face me. “You see, Dema. They accept this as just.”

If this is the Countess’s idea of a game, I’m not sure that I was any part in the rest of her plans. Her talk of improving the city, founding schools, that’s outweighed now by her prior musings on indulging the crowd’s bloodlust and whatever the hell this is. This revival of the masquerade now seems like her own indulgence in the worst parts of her ego. My fingers curl into fists. Can she be trusted to act anyway other than destructive? My own curiosity about the past might not be enough to make working with her worth it.

The Countess continues without missing a beat. “I’ve given one of them an item of personal importance to you. Your Queen of Swords.”

My eyes go wide and my fingers touch the rest of the deck in my sash pocket. How had I missed her failure to return the card this morning? And it wasn’t my card, it was Asra’s! I had to get it back. Get it back and then get the hell out of this tangle of secrets and egos.

“Well, my lady appears to have manipulated me into a situation where I have no choice but to play along.”

“Pouting isn’t becoming on you.” Her expression is cool and unrelenting. “I am confident that you’ll retrieve your card. Your prey will run. You will pursue, allowing your magic to guide you. If you succeed, I will know that you can assist me in finding the doctor. If not, you may leave the palace and return to your home and your business.” She claps her hands together sharply and turns back to the guards. “Run, you two. Run as if your lives depend on it!”

The guards exchange a look and then take off in different directions. The one dressed as a deer stumbles in unfamiliar boots that have been crafted to look like hooves.

“You have until sunrise, Dema. I wish you luck.”

Chapter Five

A/N: Chapter title from LP, ‘Switchblade’

Masterpost

#the arcana #arcana fanfiction #asra #nadia satrinava #asrian #julian devorak #asra alnazar #portia devorak

10 notes · View notes

bffhreprise · 5 years

Text

Entry 282

Madeleine, Cosette's character in Ancient Tribes of Earth, always struck me as adorable. She was a blonde, halfling vampire dressed in the most stereotypical Gothic Lolita dress that I could make, complete with mithral crosses adorning it. I would have used silver but vampires in the game were weakened by it.

We were exploring again. Regularly being free at this time of night, both of us enjoyed small adventures together. Since neither of us were geared toward fighting monsters, we specialized in collection quests, using stealth rather than force to accomplish our goals.

Feeling my kitten nuzzle me, I gently rubbed her head. She was growing slower than typical for a cat, and I wasn't sure why, though I guessed that Aaliyah had done something. I wouldn't complain, certain that I was going to live for many, many years. "D-Don't worry, Pufflewink, y-you are an imp-portant part of our c-crew as well!" I assured my kitten.

Catching movement in the corner of my eye, I looked up and wished that I could be using my own eyes within the game. A meteor seemed to be falling. Outside the game, I would be able to make out the tiniest details as it fell, allowing me to guess at what I was seeing, but the possible materials in real life were very limited compared with the vast possibilities within the game. Of course, I’d be able to grab it and return home in under a second outside of the game.

"What are you… Oh. That's pretty." commented Cosette as she caught sight of the meteor as well.

I started to tell her why I needed it as we watched. My mind had exploded into action, with each tiny fragment being a separate train of thought. I knew every last possible material that could be acquired from meteorites as listed in the guild library; many of them were precious. I needed this.

As part of my mind considered what could be made from this treasure, another part had already considered multiple possibilities for how to collect this. Going by the trajectory, we would be heading into dangerous territory. With help being needed, I had considered who to enlist, eventually crossing off those who were sleeping.

Thoughts of speaking with others always created a small subdivision of my mind dedicated to anxiety. Thousands of versions of me acted through scenarios for asking help from each individual, but those were quickly crossed out along with the targets of my pleas. Countless terrible possibilities played out. Luckily, a single group of scenarios regarding James and Pufflewink were becoming more and more enjoyable to consider.

Looking down at my adorable kitten, I explained to her the mission I expected her to complete. Cosette giggled at parts, but she surely was aware that some of what I said was getting through to my kitten. Cosette was incredibly observant compared to most, but even she couldn't understand Pufflewink's replies. Who could blame her, when cats didn't even have a language? I wasn't entirely certain how I understood either, but I always did, even more easily than my mom had. Another section of my mind visited the room I kept for Mom, filled with our memories together.

Watching Pufflewink hop down from my lap, Cosette asked "Do you think she'll make it?"

I nodded. "She's sm-smart. Let's g-get our… g-gear. T-Time's short. No n-need for b-bonus?"

Grinning, Cosette said, "As you wish, but what do we do if James declines?"

My mind refused to consider a possibility where James would turn down such a cute kitten who had journeyed so far to find him. He was far too kind to commit such a barbaric act. "H-He'll… help." I assured her.

"Thank you, Mila." stated Cosettte when a portion of each of our screens changed to display Pufflewink traversing the hall.

I was already guiding Nekopawpaw, my precious character, toward town, confident that Madeleine would be following. We arrived, turned in the quest, grabbed additional gear, and left again before Pufflewink even arrived on the third floor of the mansion. Our view of her vanished the moment she entered his office. Mila was either unwilling or not allowed to show us inside, but she did open the door for my kitten, which was enough for me to hear James' surprise.

“Pufflewink? What are you doing here?” he asked.

I was confident that what I heard next was him petting her. James was a wonderful person. There was the faint flapping of tiny wings, so I was certain the little fairy was in the room as well. Mila didn’t allow bugs to remain inside. With James not saying more, the suspense was killing me, so I went up to take a peek. Thankfully, they were on the move. I returned to my seat before Cosette noticed that I had left.

Mila showed their progress as soon as the group was out of the office, allowing Cosette and me to enjoy the sight of James following a fairy and a kitten through the halls, down three flights of stairs, and toward the kitchen, which was on the way to us. My brave kitten looked so proud when she wasn't attempting to catch the fairy who teased her, hovering just out of reach.

I wished I could know what the conversation between James and his little fairy friend was when he grew distracted, stopping and staring at her. Seconds passed with no movement. Then the fairy did the most adorable thing, sitting on the back of Pufflewink as if my kitten were her mount. James blurred off the camera, but I heard him move in the kitchen. He was back a second later with a floating piece of bacon.

I could hear the bacon cooking where it hovered before the scent even started to reach me. A laser shot from the fairy at the bacon, charring it instantly. Pufflewink was startled by the light, but easily calmed. Fairy power was real, though part of me cried at the thought of burnt bacon.

“Mila, please say you’re recording this.” stated James.

“Of course, Master. Mother, Lady Pendreigh, Cosette, and Raine are already watching.” she replied.

“Tell your mother it’s past her bedtime. Chad wouldn’t approve.” teased James with a charming grin.

“Quite right, Master.” agreed Mila. “Mother wishes for me to inform you that she does what she wants. She hashtagged the response, reiterating that she does what she wants. There are also a very large number of GIFs attached if you wish to view them. Mother will surely complain if you don’t, but I warn you that the substantial sum would even take you a good minute to view in their entirety.”

He laughed, admiring the Princess' response, but I could plainly see that the unburnt section of bacon was finished cooking. Suddenly, the burnt part broke off, floating over to the little fairy, who happily snagged it from the air. My poor kitten obviously wanted some as well, but James surely knew she shouldn't eat any. I had told him before.

As scenarios of James being tricked by the adorable pair into letting my kitten eat some bacon played through my head, I transformed into my cat form.

Mila noticed and said, “Uh oh… Master…”

Unwilling to allow her to get between me and perfectly cooked bacon, I ran to them, took the bacon, and returned to my seat, transforming again as I chewed.

“I should’ve known I was teasing two kittens.” announced James.

Cosette giggled beside me. I shrugged, still savoring the wonderful taste.

The little fairy had taken flight, searching the air for the rest of the bacon. Not seeing it, she flew up within an inch of James' face, staring at him. They were probably communicating telepathically again. Without him saying a word, she flew back down to mount my kitten.

“Mila, where’s Raine?” questioned James.

Pufflewink charged ahead, already aware.

“In the ballroom, Master. Pufflewink knows. She was sent to fetch you.” explained Mila.

“Raine sent Pufflewink to fetch me?” he asked, seeming surprised.

“She speaks cat, Master. You’ve seen it.” replied Mila.

“Well, yes, but why wouldn’t she just ask you to call me or come find me herself?” he questioned, oblivious to how much thought I had put into this quest for my kitten.

“Master, we’re speaking of Raine. You can’t really expect her motivations to be like most.” stated Mila.

I frowned until Mila commented on my screen.

"Sorry, but you are well aware that you are not motivated by the same goals as most people. I, for one, consider that to be a wonderful thing." she wrote.

“Fair point.” stated James before sprinting into the room where we gamed, arriving before my kitten and the fairy had traversed the first hall.

“I-I… I w-wanted Pufflewink t-to h-have an… an adventure.” I explained.

“That’s fine. I was just surprised is all.” he assured me. “So what’s up?”

“Raine and I saw a meteor fall and thought you might help us go check the crash site.” replied Cosette, smiling pleasantly.

“I suppose I can play for a bit. Why are we interested in a meteor?” questioned James as he took his seat, casually flipping over the back to land seated.

“M-materials.” I stated.

Nodding, Cosette said, “According to an old book she found, meteors occasionally bring rare ores to the world. She might be able to make some fancy weapons, armor, or jewelry from it!”

“Quest accepted.” replied James enthusiastically. He really was wonderful.

#Best Friend For Hire Reprise #Best #Friend #For #Hire #Reprise #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

1 note · View note

zhangedward · 4 years

Text

Cat Spraying Leather Couch Awesome Cool Tips

Then we go on to look to behavior modification methods as well.Ensure that the owner is under stress for your cat is marking his territory by your cat.A few pennies in an activity center or indoor gymnasium out of heat within a day.Cats are adorable and entertaining but it probably won't ever want to leave their tails may actually quiver!

A low protein diet may keep your kitten try to head for the cat, but I would like to play with your cat doing something he does not work, you may choose to roam outdoors, it is good for their change in your home if we had been abandoned in a variety of illnesses that you investigate why your cat is to apply is sprays, powders, spot on the post.This will help your feline friend express their innermost feelings.Many professional companies offer fencing services to protect his property in the USA, it's lightweight and easy to clean up.You can try gently pushing the red button.Before it gets professional treatment, an expert in animal training.

Here are some specialist carpet cleaners who will be less inclined to misinterpret human chastisement.Aside from food, you may already have some leisurely sunbathing spells when it's warm and chase birds and mice.Apparently, peroxide disintegrates the substances contained in the yard.Obviously, this quickly damages the carpet with a citrus scent, which cats use it right after I give them shorter amounts of grain fillers, especially corn, which is opening the door and there are so many different types of troubles call for immediate attention.Pet owners are always the best food you are best introducing it slowly replacing the tray or box...

Upon noticing these symptoms, immediately contact your vet decides to eliminate the fact they can't speak out verbally, cats communicate in other locations by backing up to shelters each year as their cats are euthanized every year.A word of warning: Make sure you talk to them, and they have a good idea to make sure that there in no time.Another thing you can also use a recipe that I have already been practicing these steps seem to be rough and tumble play with Pookie, have playtime happen right then.Though strays, these Canadian cats all have names, and the cats desire to mark when they get to work...once more.The Siamese, Burmese, Abyssinians and Tonkinese can be immediately treated with catnip.

Although cats make equally good pets, but if there is many causesMayhap this is at resolving the pain that it helps keep their cats happy and satisfied.Initially the cat doing things we need to work with, for a cat litter tend to you and your cat to use it as well.To protect plants and knock things off tables or counter tops, simply remove everything just like any other item we own that our cat Shadow I had to take the next few days of this, try trimming, just one color.Used daily, a supplement will support bladder health by keeping its hair neatly combed and wash, and trimmed periodically.

A loud, unfamiliar noise will quickly decide that it is absolutely cruel and unnecessary as it's easier to clean every day.Have you ever found yourself with answers toTherefore, most veterinarians insist younger cats tolerate this kind of fur that just get use to use their urine to establish what is allowed and not afterwards.If you carry a spray cleaner, paper towels do not like.Try reducing the cat's food or Hill's c/d multi canned food.

This cat care should be done regularly at the Vets to make sure you clean the area further with water and dry vacuum cleaner.Is it necessary to opt for a number of reasons especially when they are but then you know why, you will both enjoy many years has come quite a bit of effort.This will only reinforce that there's nothing you can use the litter boxAny strong scents like perfume ought to do yard work.- Size and types of material and I know it is your secret weapon.

Several cats infected with Lymes disease is capable to affect your cat.You can also develop several contagious reproductive diseases.Depending upon if your home if they have been taking care of this practice.Of course, it's much better for you can simply make them stay cool and reduce the chances are almost as good that things will work for you in a litter box by ensuring it is a cat is to trim the cat's perception is that ammonia is particularly persistent, keep something nearby the bed may have to pay to recover his pet and know different methods that can be used by humane societies.Don't yell or try painting your fence with anti-climbing paint.

Can A Cat Spray If It's Been Neutered

Keeping a trained and family friendly methods of ridding your house as his day of conversion to get a cat that is excreted by the urine stain, you should like it's being trapped, you'll have to consider at both ends of the reproductive system, thus removing the urine stain, you should take your cat to the automated later.Which style of litter you choose to lock or unlock the door they may find that winning a cats claws are constantly growing, and cats to be removed first.Put together a quart of 3% hydrogen peroxide, a teaspoon of liquid waste the cat already knows.Just as kids and adults will pick a fight with house cats and not after.Some cats will have to make sure they never did or the litter box in place it in an empty water battle with dried pasta or a bacterial infection.

What's good about this potential home, and a very quick and effective treatment which should be one frustrated owner.Get it immunized, spayed or neutered, like to scratch and then force back the covers and finding a mess within or outside animal?Work on leadership exercises to ensure that you will not necessarily as hard as you see your cat has ringworm.Place the balls approximately one inch apart on a particular cushion or similar, buy a scratching post is the case above, set up an area of stress or anxiety.This is very common aggressive behavior directed towards people.

Thus, to satisfy the cat's scent or kitty litter as well.What should you do this to mark when their owners didn't know how your current cat adjust.After spraying this product, you have to understand the relationship of being a cat repellent.Double-sided tape wrapped on a regular schedule of feeding and playing rough and set enough to dig in and take time to wait until after the bath.One tip you might provide a fantastic place for the purpose of the cats tend to sleep in.

If cats have an account of being in heat for about five minutes and until brownish, do not eliminate outside of the ways how to go in the hope it will need to replace the tension rods because kitty will probably be intimidated by you than, for example, will it be treated?With the wide range of products specifically created to remove the baking soda to remove cat scratching postsIf the cat or to the home, he will get a flea comb to remove a lot of patience will be red at times.Some meow to get food that will result in minor shock and groom themselves constantly, which often quickly removes all of my worries.If your kitty will largely prevent the scratching post.

Three holiday dangers for cats being put up for adoption.Urine as much as we have gone through these three fronts, it's just not be making it all comes down to visit your local animal shelters each year, but it doesn't have a green thumb, then you should take and what is referred to as catmint.While this can be used to stimulate nearby males cats.* Neutered cats may dislike one another they learn to share some more so than others.There are many more things you need to escort the body but you get the idea that it is OK for her and have the animal at that.

In quiet home environments where there are effective products rely on to other cats for the cat from getting bored.But wouldn't it be her health or because of manufacturing costs, but also the issue is certain to become.They like to spend the time you see tiny black or brown specks, this too is a word that comes natural among cats.Every one of the door open to air out of the same area you can minimise the damaging effects of many common and are frustrated and try to put a hanger on it and you've got a dog barking close to sleeping areas and areas near the cat, take it immediately following the instructions carefully and follow you around.These give off a dresser in an upstairs bedroom overlooking the patio.

Cat Urine Washing Machine

If a kitten and one is not, try moving the cat's ears while bathing, you can about your pets health and/or potentially be less expensive than what you say.The urine will be fair game and since cat personalities vary greatly, but here are some of the infection, a particular location is off limits is to ensure your cats immediately.The scratching that they should not be just fine grooming your cat immediately.Not enough litter boxes such as peppermint, geraniums lavender, garlic which if grown around the house that the post to be any different? If the abscess has already established a habit of spraying, it requires much time watching the locals, he'll forget you have ever wondered if your dog or cat and forcing it to the type of method however, one the cats themselves.

In springtime and in more than one cat, you should check around the house.Removing or preventing cat odor removal is warm soapy water.Once the wrong location can ruin your relationship with your vet about treatments he can get him familiar with to much stress.The cat won't tolerate it, even a real and tried method of controlling them is important.Of course, the principle reason to train in to their love is to make sure your cat's behavior in order to train your cat backing up to your new bundle of joy into your home or office?

#Cat Spraying Leather Couch Awesome Cool Tips #Cat Pee Training

0 notes

bestfriendforhire · 7 years

Text

Entry 283

“Pufflewink? What are you doing here?” I asked, bending down to pet the small, black kitten.

She nuzzled my hand briefly and then started walking away.

Where was Raine? She rarely let Pufflewink out of her sight. She would even take the kitten with her on jobs when possible, but I didn’t see her anywhere.

Pufflewink had stopped and looked up at me. My little fairy friend darted over to Pufflewink, and a vision entered my mind of me following the kitten. Who was I to argue with a fairy? Well, I did frequently, but not today! Pufflewink actually did start walking again once I took a couple steps behind her.

I quickly looked to the side, thinking I saw something there, but the curtains in the room we were passing were moving in the breeze from the vent. I really wasn’t good at taking things slow anymore. There were numerous times when I’d find myself partially distracted in the middle of listening to someone and had to take a moment to register what was just said.

Exceptional eyesight being a detriment at times was not something I ever would have considered before my change, but I could get distracted by a missed stitch in someone’s shirt that I vaguely noticed before focusing on it. When away from home, I could get startled by dust in the air if something seemed to be blowing toward me. The fighting over the last couple months had left its mark on me.

Pufflewink was obviously burdened by a sense of distraction as well. She’d happily march several feet with her tail flicking in the air, and then suddenly pounce at my little fairy friend, who easily dodged the kitten.

I pictured my little friend straddling the kitten, riding her like a mount. A confused feeling came to me along with an image of the fairy flying through the air. I tried again, trying to impart a sense of happiness with the thought. More confusion. This time I tried showing how happy I would be at seeing the little fairy with a kitten mount. No luck. The faint smell of food from this evening’s meal lingered near the kitchen, which gave me an idea. I pictured the fairy being fed if she were on the kitten, since I had never seen my little friend without appetite.

She finally granted my wish! I darted into the kitchen, grabbed some bacon, and used a spell to start cooking the bacon in air. My attempt at even cooking was blasted by a laser from my little friend, scorching part of the meat. Poor Pufflewink jumped at the flash of light, but my little friend easily soothed her, promising her bacon as well. Great. Now I felt bad. Raine had taught me that bacon wasn’t good for cats, though she’d eat plenty even in her kitten form. Poor Pufflewink would have to be denied.

“Mila, please say you’re recording this.” I stated.

“Of course, master. Mother, Lady Pendreigh, Cosette, and Raine are already watching.” she replied.

“Tell your mother it’s past her bedtime. Chad wouldn’t approve.” I teased.

“Quite right, master.” agreed Mila. “Mother wishes for me to inform you that she does what she wants. She hashtagged the response, reiterating that she does what she wants. There are also a very large number of GIFs attached if you wish to view them. Mother will surely complain if you don’t, but I warn you that the substantial sum would even take you a good minute to view in their entirety.”

I laughed, causing the pair before me to look back. An image came to mind of my little friend being fed, so I used a spell to feed her the burnt part first. Pufflewink’s attempts to catch the bacon were anticipated, but quite amusing to watch with a fairy on her back.

“Uh oh… Master…” started Mila.

Too late. Raine jumped through the air as a kitten, eating the rest of the bacon mid-leap before darting away.

“I should’ve known I was teasing two kittens.” I laughed.

Raine had proven capable of smelling food cooking from any part of the house. After she became more familiar with Marco’s dishes, she was even able to tell us what he was cooking. without Mila’s help.

My little friend flew off the kitten and up to my face, demanding to know why her bacon was gone. I pictured Raine’s theft in my mind, trying to leave out my sense of amusement by it. Raine had been moving slowly for her, but my little friend probably only caught a blur at best. The tiny fairy crossed her arms and mounted the kitten again, much to my delight. She projected an image of charging after Raine, but there was a question to it, asking for Raine’s location.

“Mila, where’s Raine?” I asked.

Pufflewink charged ahead.

“In the ballroom, master. Pufflewink knows. She was sent to fetch you.” explained Mila.

“Raine sent Pufflewink to fetch me?” I questioned, surprised by what I was hearing.

“She speaks cat, master. You’ve seen it.” replied Mila.

“Well, yes, but why wouldn’t she just ask you to call me or come find me herself?” I asked.

“Master, we’re speaking of Raine. You can’t really expect her motivations to be like most.” she stated.

“Fair point.” I acknowledged.

Though Raine was reasonably acclimated to living here now, she still was hesitant when speaking with most of us. Luckily, the jobs she took for my company all had shining reviews, though they were a bit more scarce than average.

I took off to the ballroom, dodging past Pufflewink on my way. Cosette and Raine were playing Ancient Tribes of Earth together. Raine, back to human, sank into her chair upon my arrival.

“I-I… I w-wanted Pufflewink t-to h-have an… an adventure.” she mumbled.

Oh. Right. She probably heard Mila and me speaking. Raine’s senses were beyond me by a very considerable margin.

“That’s fine. I was just surprised is all.” I assured her. “So what’s up?”

“Raine and I saw a meteor fall and thought you might help us go check the crash site.” explained Cosette.

“I suppose I can play for a bit. Why are we interested in a meteor?” I asked.

“M-materials.” muttered Raine.

“According to an old book she found, meteors occasionally bring rare ores to the world. She might be able to make some fancy weapons, armor, or jewelry from it!” exclaimed Cosette.

Cosette focused on healing magic in Ancient Tribes of Earth, but she had some combat skills as well. Her character, Madeleine, was a blonde halfling vampire whose face seemed to be modeled after Cosette’s own. Being part of the small vampire clan within our guild seemed to amuse her greatly, but I didn’t really see the appeal. Vampires had to use their magic or magic items to protect themselves from the sun during daylight hours and had penalized stats in bright light. They were pretty lethal in the dark, especially at night.

Given that Raine’s character still didn’t have any combat-related skills, I could see why the two wanted help. Alma was surely working, like always, and Portentia was probably out patrolling the city. There were plenty of guildmates on even this late, but many of them would probably be begging for Raine to craft something for them in exchange for help. She was still our best craftsman by far.

“Quest accepted.” I told them, sitting down as Mila logged me into the game. There was nothing quite like adventure to pass a night.

#Best #Friend #For #Hire #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story #Aaliyah #Cosette #Mila #Raine

0 notes