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team-heavenly · 2 years

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Chapter 6

AAAAA

Couldn’t have picked a better title myself.

A’ight, I did the best I could to limit the screenshots, but this is a long chapter so I need to expand onto another post. Click here for Part 2!

Trial by fire, G O!

In an effort to save space, I ultimately cut Andrea saying, “Wait, haven’t we seen them before?” But I just wanna say, it’s always baffled me that the partner couldn’t recognize them right away. I imagine the robbing of such a precious item would be a memorable event. Especially because it’s the night you met your best friend for life? Anyway, I digress.

The Return of Team Water Meanies! 💀 💧 But we beat them once before, we can totally do it again.

...Uh... I think...

If it’s a legendary, we’re screwed.

WAIT-

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! 🤣

I was hoping for a water type to fit the “Water Meanies” motif but you know what? I’ll take it. This is way too funny. Mob boss Kricketot.

Anyway...

I don’t wanna know how he makes the stink cloud though.

Atta girl ❤️️

Finally!

There’s a lot of new Pokemon to introduce here and, yes, I’m calling out each one. It’s just how I do things. Friendly reminder that if you’re having trouble keeping track of who’s who, I have a master guide listing every character replacement, including NPCs! I update it after every chapter is posted 😊

But first-

I love these three already. Although Rotom losing his arms kinda freaks me out... it’s just... a floating tack

Rampardos -> Octillery

Grotle -> Pachirisu

Thank you Yellow Gummi reference

Starmie -> Mr. Mime

Bastiodon -> Zigzagoon

...Get away from me, old man

Natu -> Heracross

So I should have taken a picture at the beginning of the interaction for consistency’s sake, but. This is Wynaut, as would be expected since I had to toggle off NPC UI portrait downloads. Then I went to redeem our two prize tickets...

Yeah. What’s up with that?

On the second ticket pull (I believe it was a Silver Ticket), I actually managed to win the grand prize. Which I was NOT expecting to happen so soon, but hey, I’m not complaining. I mean, look at this entourage-

I can’t even come up with a quip for this one. It’s just... priceless.

(By the way, the grand prize was a Sitrus Berry.)

We know Team Glee already, but this moment made me realize I messed up in a previous post. In Chapter 3, I said that Nuzleaf was (probably) Ledyba and Carvanha (probably) Politoed. With this dialogue hint, it’s obvious that they are swapped. My apologies!

Remember when Finkecleon let me have a Wonder Gummi for free in the same chapter? I saw another opportunity with the Golden Seed below...

But no dice this time. I guess this glitch only works for specific items? Who knows.

(Nothing remarkable happened after this so we fast forward a day or two...)

This speaks for itself XD

Unfortunately, I couldn’t get any good shots of the Guildmaster’s near meltdown. (Trust me, the shaking effect made the ones I got an eyesore.) Don’t worry, though, we’ll see it later!

I’m including this for no other reason than this being perhaps my favorite line in the entire game.

...Okay, maybe that’s hyperbole, but it’s certainly one I vividly remember.

(Nothing remarkable happens again today.)

🤦‍♀️ Here we go.

Some “mysterious” reason, huh? *raises hand, speaks in a dull tone* Pick me, pick me! I know why...

Apple Woods is known here as Laughable Sanctum. Probably because Team Water Meanies is gonna laugh their butts off at their upcoming prank 😒

Before departure, we found Gulpin finally at his station! It’s... uncanny that the randomizer picked the previous game’s merchant for the link shop. What are the odds?

Interestingly, the first floor of Laughable Sanctum is always one giant room.

Okay so it did take me a few tries to get through here. I gained a Skorupi recruit... then fainted on the next floor. On the next attempt, I recruited what was honestly an OP Cherrim: she had Psychic, Skull Bash, Dragon Pulse, and Softboiled. But then I lost her too 😔

My successful run was arguably the wackiest one. For starters, I stumbled upon a Secret Room!

We can’t open any of these yet, so whatever is inside is a mystery... for now.

Now, picture this, if you will (since I failed to capture the moment visually): We’re traveling through 11F, finally drawing near the dungeon’s end. We enter a room and... Monster House. I swear softly under my breath - I already used my single Foe Hold Orb on another Monster House earlier on. My thumb hovers over the power button as I wonder whether it’s worth giving up when I’m so close.

Well, at least look at your bag again before giving up, I thought. So I reluctantly open the menu to see what I can work with.

An All Mach Orb... A Slumber Orb... Hmmm... I take in the room again to pinpoint any possible escape routes. There’s none, really, except the hallway we just came down.

And then I have a crazy idea. It’s a long shot at best, but what the heck. I didn’t have much to lose.

I slam down the Slumber Orb, then the All Mach. Then I change Andrea’s Tactic to “Get the hell away from here.” I attack an empty tiles for a turn so we don’t swap spots. Then I book it after her. Not a moment too soon, since enemies are already waking up.

I have no real plan after this, except to follow Andrea and pray she takes us to the stairs somehow. We go through a room or two, and I’m starting to get nervous. What if the others find a way around and cut us off?

But no. Andrea did her job to a tee: she literally ran onto the stairs tile in the next room. Again, not a moment too soon as enemies emerged from the other hallway.

Cue me laughing in relief at this absurdity, and then again when I see we spawned right next to the stairs on our last floor. I still can’t believe that actually worked!

Ah, but with every victory comes a price...

I can tell you how, Andrea, but unfortunately it involves getting physically walloped and spiritually downtrodden.

Hmph. You’ll never be the real Team Skull. Long live ya boi Guzma!

In theory: great idea! In practice:

Over ten years later and this still makes me so mad smh.

So we go without dinner. And then...

*plops face first into pillow* I can’t... I can’t do this. He looks so cute here. I can’t upset this little guy.

Totodile’s Law: You can look blue, but don’t feel blue.

Now, the progression of faces that follows here is real nice- and I honestly don’t think this scene could have been done as well with any other ‘Mon (besides the other starters.) He goes from the sad face (not shown) to teary-eyed, then straight up bawling as it gets more and more intense.

(Last one is a bit of an eye strain, sorry.)

I want to draw your attention to his sprite in the first shot, though. At first, I thought this was his typical pose - the one done by the hero and partner on various occasions, etc. But actually, it’s a frame of one of his attack animations! (Shout-out to @tzhaar-rayne for helping me figure this out!)

Which really makes me think: we got blessed to have a starter as Wigglytuff. Anyone else, and the sprite would probably just be walking in place. (Or maybe it just rips another attack animation, idk. But still, the point stands.)

*clenches teeth* They’re friends all right - friends of my fists. (Or wings, I guess.)

Click here for the rest of Chapter 6!

#pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd explorers #randomizer #chapter 6

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unloved-cadillac · 3 years

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All Over Again(Levi x Reader)

After regaining his memories, Levi is in high school searching for Y/n, his past Queen in which he served under. But after he does, she doesn’t remember him nor her past. Can Levi make her remember or will he make her fall in love with him again?

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌: 3.4𝗄

Reincarnation was the norm in the new world. After many lives lost, they were found a lifetime later. Many got lucky in the sense of finding their other half from their previous life. Either it’s by accident or glimpses of their face in dreams that drove a person to find them. Although, not everyone remembers their past lives. And, boy, does it suck for their friends who do.

In Levi’s case, it was his previous queen who didn’t remember him. Who also happens to be his lover.

His dreams were filled with her ever since he can remember. Her beautiful h/c hair flowing in the wind while they rode on their horses, her sparkling eyes when she spoke of her new book. Her plump rosy lips that made him want to kiss her forever. What he gathered from his memories, he was some kind of knight that was under an oath to protect the L/n family who was the royal family at that time. Levi also found out that he had fallen hopelessly in love with the princess. Y/n L/n. Well, at the time she was a princess when he fell for her. Levi was a mere soldier when he was picked to be one of the royal guards sent to protect Sina’s flower.

“Hey! Levi! You’re daydreaming again!” Hange yells out while tapping his shoulder. “Huh? Oh. Sorry.” Levi snaps back to reality. He was in class. English to be precise. He hated English. But he remembered Y/n telling him that she was very fond of writing and reading so he tried for her. “Thinking of her again?” Hange asks with a broad smile on her face. Hange was also part of that era with them. As a matter of fact, she was the closest friend apart from Levi since Hange helped in the castle’s science field. “Shut up, Shitty Glasses.” Levi groans and wipes his face. “I have a new memory of her.” Hange tells him and he looks back up at her. “What was it?” “Well, we were in the lab and I spilled some kind of solute on her and it burned her left hand by a mistake. Even though she was hurting she laughed which in turn made me laugh. You even slapped my head. Ouch.” Hange tells Levi and chuckles. “But that was also the moment that she kissed you.” Levi’s eyes widened and a faint blush formed on his cheeks. “Yeah. I remember spying on the two of you and she kissed your cheek while you dressed her wound. It was cute.” Hange continues and smiles.

As Levi was about to say something, their school bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. They packed their bags and walked out together. “How am I gonna find her, Hange?” Levi asks and Hange sighs. “I don’t know, Levi. It was by pure luck we found each other. Maybe in time she’ll turn up.” She pats his back as they walk home. Yeah. In time.

~~~~

The following day, Levi was in his home room class with Hange when their teacher came. “Alright, kids. Today I bring some good news! We have a new student joining us today!” He exclaims making Levi groan at his loudness. Pixis was always so damn enthusiastic about everything and it was a pain in the ass sometimes. As this man spoke, Levi thought of Y/n. He was willing to walk out this damn school and the life he had here just to find her. She had his heart for so long and all he wanted to do was hold her on his arms again.

“Ok, kiddo. You can come in now.” Pixis says and the door opens. Levi had his head on his table, trying to catch a few winks before 1st period but that was disturbed when Hange shoved him awake. “Jesus, shitty glasses. The fuck you want?” He questions her and Hange had her mouth agape and her eyes wide. So wide, her eyes were for sure going to pop out of her skull in a few moments. “Oi, Hange. What’s wrong?” All she does is point to the front of the class and he turns his head to look at what his friend pointed at. That was where he almost started crying.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Y/n L/n. I’m glad to be part of your class!” Y/n says and smiles a bright smile. Levi almost fainted from what he was seeing and hearing. She was here. This wasn’t a dream nor a memory. She was right in front of him, smiling a smile he hadn’t seen in forever. “Y/n, there’s a seat right there by the window. Go on.” Pixis tells her and she walks to the table and sits herself on the seat. She sat in the third seat from the front in the row next to Levi’s. But he sat right in the back with Hange so they couldn’t speak to her. Hange and Levi shared a look before the bell rang. As everyone started to leave, Levi and Hange walked up to her. Levi’s heart was beating a million miles per hour. This was it. He was finally going to hear her voice after so long and he will have her again. “Uhm, Y/n?” Hange called to her and Y/n turned around and smiled. “Hello.” She says. Hange looked at Levi and Levi looked at Y/n. “Hi, Y/n.” He says and she smiles. “Hello.” She says again and Hange launches herself onto her making Y/n almost fall over. “Oh, Y/n! I’m so happy that we found you! You have no idea how long we waited for you! I’ve missed you so much!” Hange cries out and all Y/n does is pay her back. Hange could feel her resistance and pulls away to look at Y/n’s confused face. “Y/n?” “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?” She asks and Levi’s heart just drops. Hange looks at her then Levi. “What?” Hange asks Levi and he doesn’t say a word. “I’m gonna be late to my first class. Goodbye.” Y/n says pulling away from the awkward scene and walks out the class, leaving Levi and Hange with a broken heart.

“What the fuck, Levi?!” Hange yells out while they sit in the cafeteria. Levi’s eyes were trained on Y/n while she spoke with some people. Y/n stopped and looked at him. He blinked and continued to look at her. She blushed and looked away. He smirks knowing that even if she doesn’t remember them, he still could do that to her. “Guys!” A friendly voice calls out to them. Turning around they see Armin walking up to them with a book. “Armin! Hi.” Hange says and Levi greets him with a “hey.” Armin sits next to them and places the book in front of them. “So, I read up on your little situation with Y/n and I might have a solution.” Armin says and Levi looks at him sharply. “Explain.” Levi says and Armin opens the book. It’s old, with a brown cover that was filled with little designs. “I found this book in the library. It was written by someone who was always reincarnated and in this page,” he points to the book, “it explains what he experienced when his friends couldn’t remember him.” Levi grabs the book and starts reading it.

..and man was I bummed. The four closest people to me couldn’t remember each other and me. Funny how I did but they didn’t. I kept on trying, for almost two months, to speak to them. To tell them about the adventures we had in our lives. But none of them budged. I was getting really impatient. Not only did I feel alone, two of them were destined to be together and they never even looked at each other. So I stayed up for countless nights, trying to find a way to jolt their memories. Something must’ve happened that was a constant in our lives. I’m sure previous life me is laughing at my face now. Anyway, I wrote everything down from what I could remember. Four lives. I wrote everything for four lives worth. And there was a thing that was a bit constant.

In my first life, we were in the times of mythical creatures. Maria and I were playing with a small dragon and it burned her arm. All of us laughed and helped her treat it. In my second life, we were in medieval times and a horse bit her hand. In my third, we were in a forest and Maria didn’t know the three of us. But when my cat scratched her, she gasped and fell down. Then she leaped into my arms telling me about our lives. In my fourth, I was a soldier and Maria had been shot. The five of us smiled at each other and then we died.

After coming up with the conclusion that Maria had to be injured in some way for her to remember, I set a plan. Since I wasn’t the cause of any of her injuries, it was something that did it. A creature or animal. The next day, I went to Maria and told her to meet me behind our school yard. She was hesitant, of course. But she showed up anyway. I told the others and they all showed up. Mostly because I used their interests to lure them there. When they showed, I had a dog. Tim was my big Saint Bernard who could never harm anyone unless I said so. When I pointed to Maria, he ran up to her and pushed her on the ground. His claws mistakenly scratched her and I quickly pulled him away. No one did anything. They all just stared at each other. Maria looked at her arm and then up at me. Tears filled her eyes and she leaped into my arms. She whispered to me that she remembers. I smiled and hugged her back while the others joined in. When we pulled away, the two that were destined to be together kissed. We were back together and that’s all I wanted.

Levi sighed and handed the book back to Armin. “So, we need to find a constant. Something that happened before that will jolt her memory.” Levi says and Armin nods. “Yup. Is there anything that might work?” He asks. “There is one. But here’s the thing: we only remember our one past life. For what we know, this is our first time being like this. So how can we be sure it will work? What if we fuck it up?” Hange asks with a worry. “Then we start fresh.” Levi answers while still looking at Y/n. “Ok. Well, let’s meet up at the cafe later and we can talk about it.” Hange proposes and Levi hums in agreement. “Oh! Armin! How is Annie?” Hange asks and Armin blushes. “She’s good. Her school is far away so we hardly see each other. But we Skype and stuff so I guess we’re okay.” He replies. “Your past life is so cool, dude. Being a merchant and falling for a soldier. You must tell me more one day,” Hange excitedly says and Armin smiles. “Of course.” Those two ramble on while Levi thinks of how he could win his queen’s memories back.

~~~~

At the cafe, Levi and Hange talk over coffee and tea. They were brainstorming and Hange speaks. “Levi, maybe we should try that burning thing on her.” “I hate having to hurt her. Isn’t there something else?” Levi asks while sipping his tea. “The thing is, I can’t remember anything else that might work.” Hange explains and he sighs. They continued to speak when Levi heard the cafe bell ring. Out of curiosity, he looks at who entered and he quickly slapped Hange to look. “Ow, Levi! Not so hard. Oh.” She stops and looks at Y/n. She was with some girl and it looked like she didn’t know they were here either. Hange groans and looks back at Levi. “I miss her. That should be me dragging her everywhere,” she says. Y/n and her friend order drinks and it looks like they weren’t staying. Since their drinks were in take-away cups. A man stood behind the pair and Levi narrowed his eyes. The man leaned down in between the girls, making them startle. “Hey ladies.” Levi heard the man speak but the rest was soft. Levi saw the man’s hand making its way to Y/n’s back. “Uhm, I’ll appreciate it if you kept your hands off of me and my friend, sir.” Y/n says and Levi smirks. Yup, definitely his Queen. “Oh, come on doll. I know you like having a man holding you.” He replies and his hand was going to grab her ass when Levi stepped in and grabbed his wrist. “What the..?” “You heard her. Keep your hands off of them,” he says sternly and Y/n looks at him. Suddenly, Y/n flinches and holds her head.

“This prince doesn’t seem to understand that I do not want to marry him,” Y/n whispers to herself while the prince continued to babble on and on about how rich his father was and how good they would be together. “So, princess,” he leans towards her, “what do you say we go up to your massive chambers and have some fun?” He moves his hand to grab her waist when another arm grabs his. “Levi!” Y/n says and Levi twists the prince’s arm. “Keep your hands off of her,” he says and throws the prince on the floor. He looks at Y/n and cups her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Are you okay?” Y/n snaps out of her memory and looks around her. What was that? She looks at Levi who was eyeing her carefully. “Did he hurt you?” He asks and she shakes her head. “I..I need to go.” She goes past Levi and walks out. “Thanks Levi. I owe you one,” the girl says and walks out with the drinks to Y/n. “Hey.” Levi turns to the barista. “Levi, right? Thank you. For saving them. You’re welcome here anytime for free.” He says and Levi nods. He goes to sit back down with Hange and looks at her. “What?” He questions her smug face. “She remembered something,” she replies and Levi scoffs. “Sure.” “Really, Levi! She did. If she didn’t she wouldn’t have held her head or would’ve thanked you! We’re getting close.”

~~~~

“Oh my god. What was that?” Y/n whispers to herself as she gets ready for bed. She remembers her faint dreams that she had. All of them were of this boy. He looked just like Levi. Now that she saw him in real life, her heart fluttered all the time and the sense of pure love radiates from him. She knows the whole story about reincarnation. Her friend told her of her past life and how she and her girlfriend were there together. “Why can’t I remember?” She holds her head and groans. “He means something to me! I know he does! Shit.” She says and falls into her bed. Maybe her dreams will give her some answers.

Back at the palace, Y/n was reading her book while Levi stood guard by her door. Looking up from the book, she catches Levi looking at her but he quickly looks ahead when she does. Closing her book, she sets it on the table and walks up to him. “Levi.” She calls his name. “Yes, your majesty?” He responds. She wraps her arms around his neck forcing him to look at her. “You know you don’t have to be so stern when you're with me alone, right?” She asks and he looks down at her. “I hated those men looking at you today,” he suddenly says and she gasps. “Was my knight, perhaps jealous of said men?�� She slyly asks while he scoffs but doesn’t answer. “Is that a yes?! Oh I knew it!” She giggles and he looks at her. Y/n calms down and cups his cheek. “Your Queen orders you to give her a kiss.” She says. “I don’t need to be ordered to do that,” he responds and places his lips on hers for a soft, loving kiss.

Levi wakes up after his dream. “Another memory. Fuck,” he sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. “Y/n. Remember me. Please.”

“Y/N! RUN! GO AWAY FROM HERE!” “NOT WITHOUT YOU, IDIOT!” “FOR GOD’S SAKE Y/N LISTEN TO ME!” Levi yells back at her. He swings his sword back and forth fighting the enemy while guarding his Queen. He turns to look at her and sees an arrow flying towards her. He runs in front of her with the intention to block it from piercing through her. Instead it pierced him. He saw her eyes widen and looked down at the arrow. “L-Levi,” she whispers to him as her tears fall. He couldn’t hold on for much longer. So he quickly kisses her and he leans on her. “I love you, Y/n.”

“LEVI! NO!” Y/n yells out, springing up from her bed. She pants and tries to catch her breath. She feels her cheeks which were now soaked with tears. Her hands were shaking. It felt so real. “Levi. Queen. It all makes sense now.” She whispers to herself and wakes up to go to her bathroom to wash her face. As the water hit her face, another memory ran through her mind. His funeral. It was pouring down and Y/n looked up to feel the rain hit her face. “I love you, Levi.” Y/n looks at herself in the mirror and smiles. “Finally.”

~~~~

Levi and Hange walk to their class while Hange goes over their plan. “Ok. So, I’m gonna take Y/n to our science lab, okay? You will be outside watching like how you did back then. I’m gonna show her some cool experiments and I’m gonna accidentally hurt her. When she yells out or like cusses at me or something, you come in and ask me what happened. You will take her hand and look at it while she looks at you. Then, you take her to the nurses office and help her wound and get all lovey dovey. Then you look at her, staring into her eyes oh so lovingly and then you will lean in and she will then you both will..-“ “ALRIGHT, HANGE! I get the idea!” Levi puts a hand over her mouth to shut her up and she chuckles. She looks ahead and sees the person they were just speaking about. Hange points to her and Levi looks. There Y/n stood. With an apple and caramel muffins.

Levi and Hange stop dead in their tracks and look at her. Y/n smiles and walks up to them. “Hange.” She says and Hange smiles. “I remember you telling me once that you loved the caramel muffins I got for you. So here,” she hands her the container. Hange eyes sparkle and take the box. She looks at Y/n and brings her in a bear hug. “Oh Y/n! Y/n! I’m so happy you remember me! I’m so happy!” Hange yells out and Y/n laughs at her long lost friend. Setting her down, Hange looks at Levi who had his own smile on his face. “I’ll leave you two be, your majesty.” Hange says softly and Y/n giggles at the name. Levi looks at Y/n with adoration in his eyes and Y/n smiles while holding out the apple. “And my knight told me that his favorite fruit was an apple.” Y/n says as some happy tears fall down her bright face. Levi moves to her and wipes her tears away. “You remember me?” Levi asks and she nods. “I remember. I remember us. Levi, last night I, I saw how you died. You died protecting me. You saved me, Levi. You saved me, baby,” she whispers and holds his face. “Yeah. I told you. I’ll always protect you.” Levi replies with tears falling down his face and Y/n crashes her lips with his. He wrapped his arms around her waist and twirled her around. He settled her back down but kept her in his arms.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers into her lips. “And I’ve missed you.” She says and hugs him. He pulls away and looks at her. “Just know, that I’ll do it all over again for you.”

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honourablejester · 3 years

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Some thoughts for potential characters for an Arabian Nights/Voyages of Sinbad the Sailor style D&D desert campaign, since Genie Warlock is now an official thing

Point of note: The Golden Voyage of Sinbad is one of my favourite Ray Harryhausen movies, and one of my favourite Classic Hollywood swashbuckler/fantasy/adventure movies (allowing for its extremely 70s sensibilities and attitudes), and its influence is probably going to be very clear here. Heh. (Honourable mention to the 40s Thief of Bagdad also)

Firstly, I feel like a specifically Arabian-Nights-ish setting might let you get in some of the more unusual races more easily. Depending on if we’re going fully desert with this, or if we’re adding in Sinbad-style coastal/mountain/jungle shenanigans, you’ve got room for things like aarakocra, yuan-ti, tabaxi, genasi, tritons, sea-elves, goliaths, tortles, etc.

(Sidenote on monsters for the campaign: you cannot have an Arabian Nights inspired setting and not include a Roc at some point. It’s just not done, I demand giant birds. Actually, given the variety of monsters in Arabian Nights and all the myriad spin-off stories from it, you could probably throw in just about anything. All the sea monsters. Anything found in a haunted desert ruin or Cave of Wonders style dungeon. All the constructs, Jaffar in Thief of Bagdad certainly felt free to throw in all the mechanical murder weapons.

On that note. Actually. Warforged PCs. The ‘Silver Maiden’ who didn’t want to assassinate a king for some sorcerer. Or did assassinate a king for some sorcerer, and is now dealing with the fallout. Huh.

But. Anyway. I just. Love the Roc. It’s iconic)

Some backgrounds that fit nicely for your stereotypical Arabian Nights adventures: pirate, sailor, fisher, criminal, charlatan, urchin, courtier, sage, far traveller, guild artisan/merchant, possibly also archaeologist if we’re counting ‘delving into desert ruins’ under ‘archaeology-ish activities’

Classes and subclasses that instantly jump out:

Rogues are instantly the archetypal hero type here, given Aladdin, Sinbad, Ali Baba, et al. Heh. Swashbucklers and arcane tricksters also jump out among subclasses, because adventuring sailors and magic thieves. Rogues just grok really well in general though. Roll up all your sly, streetwise, impulsive, treasure-driven, secretly noble thief princes and line ‘em up!

So … A tabaxi archaeologist-slash-arcane trickster who grew up a street urchin and found themselves getting sent into strange desert ruins for cash from a very young age, until they just got a taste for it and went into business for themselves? Or a water genasi sailor-swashbuckler who’s looking to buy/acquire their own ship and are willing to go a lot of strange places and take a lot of strange jobs to get the capital up? Or a halfling street thief who very inadvisedly fell in love with royalty and is looking for enough cash to successfully masquerade as a noble suitor?

Warlocks, since genielocks are the reason we’re here in the first place, so we’ll obviously throw that in. Fathomless, fiend and undying also fit very nicely, depending on where we’re bouncing in our desert voyages, fathomless for coasts and undying for tombs

For the genie, because I’m still in love with the ‘live in your vessel’ idea, I’m feeling like Jafar’s peddler disguise from Aladdin could come in here. An actual peddler, guild-artisan, who encountered a djinni in the desert, and now has a few odder tricks up their sleeve, and on occasion sleeps in their lamp. I feel like rock gnome would work here? Not sure why. Alternately, we could go with the original fisherman-frees-a-genie-from-a-bottle, and get a poor (sea-elf?) bastard who is very out of their depth over here?

Bards, my darling bards, leaning into the court shenanigans a setting like this offers. If Scheherazade herself was anything, she was a bard. Lore, whispers and eloquence all jump out nicely. Also, here’s where you see my Golden Voyage love, because my absolute favourite character in that was the Vizier. He had it all. Genteel manners, tragic backstory, facial disfigurement, honourable motives. Sure, you have your Disney Jafar viziers, but you also have your historical Jafar viziers, and everybody loves some court shenanigans.

So. A human/half-elf courtier-turned-fugitive lore bard, who ran badly afoul of his court’s new ‘court wizard’, to the tune of a hideously disfigured face that he hides behind a quite beautiful mask, who’s out looking for people to help him fight said wizard and reclaim his kingdom for its just rulers?

On that note, Sorcerers and Wizards are obviously genre staples (admittedly often as villains, but hey). If you’re leaning a bit on some ‘court wizard’ shenanigans, then sorcerers with subtle spell might have an interesting edge, and pretty much all flavours of wizard would fit right in

Putting the yuan-ti in as the wizard/sorcerer might be a bit on the nose (though possibly not as much as the genie warlock with, say, a basket as a vessel), but they do also fit very nicely with both the court shenanigans and also tomb-diving aspects of this kind of setting/story. So. A yuan-ti pureblood illusion wizard who’s trying to find a specific tomb/cavern, a-la the Cave of Wonders? Or a tiefling sorcerer whose life’s goal is to successfully become court wizard and/or vizier?

Of the martial classes, I feel like Monks oddly fit quite nicely. Sun soul might even get a decent look in, as well as long death and mercy. Possibly it’s still the rogue thing, but Arabian Nights as a genre just feels very Dex-based to me. We survive on skill and savoir-faire and slyness, not force and faith.

Also, random inspiration here, but the RL archaeological discovery of the 5000-year-old 6ft tall Iranian lady found in a Burnt City with a golden artificial eyeball wired into her skull is of some influence here. A sun soul monk lady with a golden eye from a ruined desert city taken over by a blue dragon would be … a very cool thing. I feel. Heh

And of course, anything else you feel like. Just because my brain is ruled by rogues and sorcerers here doesn’t mean that’s all there could be. Light, tempest and knowledge clerics feel nicely evocative as well. Storm barbarians. Swarmkeeper ranger with a locust swarm, if we want to throw in some earlier influences. Stars druids work really nicely for the navigator idea, both as desert walkers and nautical navigators. Anything you want, really.

I guess I’m kind of surprised that I don’t really hear much about coastal desert-y style campaigns in D&D. It has all the monsters for it. And, like, if ever there was a genre of story focused on tiny heroes facing really weird monsters, the Odyssey/Sinbad the Sailor type stories are very much it.

#d&d #5e #arabian nights #sinbad the sailor #campaign inspirations

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veliseraptor · 4 years

Text

this place could be beautiful

[READ ON AO3]

@mdzsnet told me that it was Xue Yang’s birthday today and to my immense surprise I actually managed to finish writing something for it! possibly the fastest 4k I’ve ever written, I don’t know, nobody check me on that.

The summary here is “five steps taken by Xue Yang toward domestic living, and one time he really wanted it.” A big thank you to @paradife-loft for the prompt and @ameliarating for an extremely quick beta-ing job. Remaining fuckups mine.

content warning: allusions to sex that’s inherently dubious on account of identity issues, semi-graphic descriptions of violence both actual and imagined, canonically character death/suicide, I didn’t fix anything and I’m sorry.

---

Xue Yang sometimes wondered if Xiao Xingchen was aware of a-Qing’s little expeditions and just pretending he wasn’t, or if he genuinely thought she was just that good a scavenger. He leaned a little toward the former, because while Xiao Xingchen was an idiot in a lot of ways he wasn’t actually stupid, and a-Qing was only a middling liar at best.

He’d followed her the first time she’d gone out collecting scraps, mostly because he didn’t trust her as far as she could’ve thrown him and had smelled the lie on her the second she gave it. He told Xiao Xingchen he was going to take a nap and then slipped out, following after her as she pickpocketed her way through Yi City with the expertise of a great deal of experience.

His respect for her rose a notch. Though he did have to wonder how she knew which targets to hit, without being able to see.

Xue Yang was pretty sure she couldn’t. Pretty sure.

He left her to it, deciding that she wasn’t up to anything that needed to concern him. When she came back bearing a not insubstantial amount of money, claiming she’d traded fruits of her scavenging for it, Xue Yang just barely managed not to laugh.

He followed her a couple more times, just to make sure that she wasn’t up to anything other than petty theft. As far as Xue Yang could tell, she wasn’t.

Fine, then. Wasn’t like they didn’t need the money, and he wasn’t going to judge.

Xue Yang actually wasn’t following her when he heard her shrill voice saying, “are you really going to come after a blind girl? Shame on you!” And then, shriller, “let me go!”

Huh.

Xue Yang considered. If she’d gotten herself caught in some trouble, she could get herself out of it, or not. Didn’t make a lot of difference to him, really. Maybe she’d get herself killed, and then he wouldn’t have to deal with having her around all the time. If a-Qing couldn’t help herself then she didn’t deserve Xue Yang doing it.

Just out of curiosity, though, he turned and headed in the direction of her raised voice, following it into a narrow alley between buildings. A-Qing was boxed in at the end of it, three boys cornering her, laughing. One of them had her stick and was poking her with it. She didn’t look hurt yet, just spooked, at least so far.

He leaned against one of the walls and watched, head cocked.

It occurred to him that Xiao Xingchen would probably be disappointed if a-Qing didn’t show up for dinner.

One of them must’ve felt him looking and turned around. “Get lost, cripple,” he said.

“Why?” Xue Yang said lazily. That question seemed to stump him, and Xue Yang laughed. He flushed.

“Get out of here,” he said again.

“Don’t want to. Go ahead. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” The other two turned around. Xue Yang grinned at them. “Seriously,” he said. “Keep going. I’m curious what you’re going to do to her. There’s so many options.”

A-Qing was frozen. Xue Yang tapped his fingers against his leg. The good one. The other one was almost all the way healed now, if still frustratingly weak. Good enough for them, though.

“You know what someone’s skull sounds like when it cracks?” he said. The idiot who talked first looked blank, and Xue Yang let his grin widen. “Really? No?”

“What,” idiot number one said. Or started to.

“Like this,” Xue Yang said.

It was a nice crunch, the sound of bone meeting the wall with the kind of force he put into it. Good, satisfying. The second time caved in the side of his head.

The other two bolted, which was really too bad.

A-Qing was taking quick, panicky sounding breaths. Xue Yang dropped the corpse-in-process he was holding - still twitching, he’d be gone in a minute or so - and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“Wow,” he said. “Idiots, right? Thinking they can fuck with you and not get in trouble.”

She didn’t say anything.

“See you when you get back,” he said. “Steal something nice for me.”

He walked back to the yizhuang with a bit of a spring in his step. A-Qing did not bring him anything nice. It was a good thing he hadn’t really expected her to.

Well. There was his good deed for the next five years. He hoped she was grateful.

II.

Xiao Xingchen might be a famous cultivator who had poems written about him, might be a capable fighter who had suppressed countless monsters and ghosts, but, Xue Yang quickly learned, he didn’t know shit about dealing with money.

He overpaid for everything. When Xue Yang pointed it out, he smiled and said if they’re asking that much then they must need it.

Mother of fuck, it was a miracle he hadn’t starved to death after giving away everything he had.

It was funny, the first couple times he went out shopping with him. The first time he didn’t even technically go with him, just watched from a distance as Xiao Xingchen got himself fleeced and cheated, the naive idiot.

It was less funny when he came back to the yizhuang apologetic about the lack of food, and he had to go to sleep if not hungry then at least less than satisfied.

The next time, Xue Yang went with him. That went a little better, though mostly Xiao Xingchen ignored his attempts to push the prices down. At least he could keep them from giving him bad produce.

By the third time, he was genuinely annoyed by the whole process, and the hungry, anticipatory way that the shopkeepers eyed Xiao Xingchen like he was easy prey, which of course he was, but not theirs.

Mostly, though, he just let Xiao Xingchen deal with it. He never asked, anyway.

The next time Xiao Xingchen picked up a basket and announced he was going shopping, and did they want anything, Xue Yang got up and tugged it away from him. “I’ll go,” he said.

Xiao Xingchen seemed startled. A-Qing sat up, expression immediately turning suspicious. “You’re offering to do something?” she said. “Something helpful?”

“Yeah,” Xue Yang said. “Turns out. World’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” He kept his eyes on Xiao Xingchen, who paused and then smiled.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

“Course I don’t,” Xue Yang said. “You think I’d do anything I didn’t want to, Daozhang?”

A-Qing was still frowning at him like she thought he was up to something. Xue Yang had no idea what she thought he was up to, and kind of wanted to ask, but he didn’t care enough to do it.

“I really don’t mind going myself,” Xiao Xingchen said.

“Uh huh,” Xue Yang said. “What, you don’t trust me?” He pitched his voice light and teasing, and Xiao Xingchen shook his head with another smile.

“All right,” he said. “If you insist.”

“I do,” Xue Yang said, hooking the basket over his arm, and waltzed out toward the street.

“Thank you,” Xiao Xingchen called after him, and Xue Yang’s stride hitched a little. He paused, just for a moment, then called back over his shoulder, “you’re welcome, Daozhang!” and left.

Yi City’s merchants were not ready for him. It was great. It was the most fun he’d had in a while.

It wasn’t until he was on his way back that he realized that the most fun he’d had in a while was shopping for groceries. That he’d enjoyed it. Admittedly, the enjoyment had mostly come out of terrorizing the people who’d been cheating Xiao Xingchen for weeks, but still.

And he was looking forward to bringing the fruits of his work back, and dropping them on Xiao Xingchen’s lap, and the smile that would curve his lips. Thank you, my friend, he’d say.

He shook himself. It was funny, wasn’t it? Nobody else got the joke, at least not so far, but he knew.

Thank you, my friend, Xiao Xingchen would say, smiling. He’d scream if he knew the truth. Xue Yang looked forward to hearing it.

III.

Today was a nothing day.

Nobody else called them that, but that was how Xue Yang thought of them. There was one every ten days where Xiao Xingchen decided that nobody was working - Xue Yang didn’t know why, something about how it was important to take time to rest and be still. They were quiet and lazy and dull and Xue Yang had begun to really enjoy them.

Not just because it meant Xiao Xingchen didn’t make him get up early, and often the chance to do other things in bed in the morning.

(That was new. New-ish. Sort of unexpected, but the good kind of unexpected. Xue Yang was pretty sure he’d never fucked the same person this many times before, and he was getting to like it - the learning what got to him, what he liked, what made him cry, how much pressure it took to leave bruises on Xiao Xingchen’s pale skin.)

Today was this week’s nothing day, so Xue Yang nuzzled up to Xiao Xingchen and scraped his teeth against the skin of his neck, hand sliding down over his stomach.

Xiao Xingchen hummed and caught his hand before it went far.

“Ah,” he said quietly. “Not this morning.”

Xue Yang frowned against his neck where he knew Xiao Xingchen would feel it. “Why not?”

“I have to go out today,” Xiao Xingchen said. His frown deepened.

“Out?”

“Wang-furen told me yesterday that her sister is having trouble with the ghost of their grandmother,” he said. “I told her I would take care of it as soon as I was able.” Xue Yang pulled back and stared at him.

“You didn’t say anything about this,” he said.

“You don’t have to come with me,” he said. “I expect it’ll be a simple matter - it doesn’t seem the ghost is malicious. But it is several hours journey, so I need to leave soon.”

“But it’s a nothing day,” Xue Yang blurted out. Xiao Xingchen’s eyebrows knitted together.

“What?”

“You know,” Xue Yang said. “The day where we don’t work and go out and help people, or whatever. That’s ours, you and me. And a-Qing.” A prickle of irritation started under his skin, at Wang-furen and her sister, for putting this on Xiao Xingchen, dragging him out, making him take care of their problems and they probably wouldn’t even pay. Or Xiao Xingchen wouldn’t let them.

Xiao Xingchen’s frown deepened.

“Once a week,” Xue Yang insisted. “There’s always one a week. It’s supposed to be today.”

Xiao Xingchen was quiet for a moment, and then let out a bit of a laugh. “It isn’t a rule,” he said.

“But-”

Xue Yang broke off. But it should be, he was thinking, irritation edging toward anger. But it’s supposed to be. This is part of how things go. We have a routine and Wang-furen and her ghost grandmother are ruining it.

He pulled away, sharply, and rolled out of bed. “Fine,” he said sulkily. “Better get going, then.”

The frown in Xiao Xingchen’s voice was audible. “This is...important to you?”

Xue Yang said nothing. He could feel his face getting hot. This, he thought, was why you didn’t expect things from people. They’d up and decide that some stranger’s stupid problem mattered more than his good day.

“It is,” Xiao Xingchen said slowly.

“Whatever,” Xue Yang muttered. He started collecting his clothes from where he’d thrown them on the floor.

“I won’t be gone all day.”

Just most of it. Besides, it was the principle of the thing.

He heard the rustle of Xiao Xingchen rising, his quiet footsteps, and fell still, tensing. His fingers brushed Xue Yang’s shoulder.

“I said I would go,” he said. “I can’t go back on my word.”

Of course not. Xue Yang’s lips twisted and didn’t answer.

“Tomorrow,” Xiao Xingchen said after another couple moments, his voice firm. “Would you mind...tomorrow, for a...nothing day...instead?”

Xue Yang turned to look at Xiao Xingchen, eyes narrowed. He was being mocked, he thought, or worse, humored. But Xiao Xingchen looked serious.

“You don’t have to,” Xue Yang said. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“No,” Xiao Xingchen said. “It’s a good idea. I hadn’t meant for it to be...but now that you’ve pointed it out, I think it would be nice. To have a day marked specifically for ourselves.”

Xue Yang blinked at him. Xiao Xingchen smiled.

“Tomorrow,” he said, slowly.

“Yes,” Xiao Xingchen said. “If it’s fair weather we can go to the river and swim. I think I would like that.”

Xue Yang could feel the tension starting to bleed out of him, almost against his will. “Hm,” he said. And then, cautiously, “yeah, all right.”

Xiao Xingchen smiled at him, then bent his head down and kissed him in that horribly gentle way he had sometimes. He pulled back too fast for Xue Yang to turn it into something else. “If you want something,” he said, “please feel you can ask.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. The bizarre urge to laugh rose up and he let it happen. “Aw, Daozhang,” he said. “You’re sweet.”

“I know,” Xiao Xingchen said brightly. He paused, and then said, turning just a bit pink, “and I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

Xue Yang felt himself grin. “That right?”

Xiao Xingchen’s flush deepened, but his smile stayed. “I’ll certainly see what I can do.”

You make it so easy, Xue Yang thought, and he wasn’t even entirely sure what it was.

IV.

A-Qing was sick.

Coughing, puking, dripping snot, the works. It was disgusting. Xue Yang had been wrist deep in someone’s entrails, sure, but he could deal with that. This? Much worse.

It was actually a relief that Xiao Xingchen had sent him off with a list of herbs he wanted.

“Or you could just let her die,” he’d said.

“No,” Xiao Xingchen said firmly, though with a flicker of his lips like he thought that’d been a joke, which it had, sort of, but also not really.

Xue Yang was pleased by the wary glances he got from the merchants as he walked through the market. They knew by now that he wasn’t someone they could fuck with, and these days didn’t even try. Sometimes he pitched insultingly low prices just to check, smiling with all his teeth.

Nobody’d tried to argue with him in a while.

He sauntered over to an herbalist and started looking over her wares for the things on Xiao Xingchen’s list. Nothing particularly rare or expensive, at least. A few things he didn’t recognize and had needed to ask Xiao Xingchen to describe.

Maybe he’d pick up something nasty and pretend he’d made an innocent mistake. Wouldn’t have to be fatal, or anything. Xiao Xingchen would catch it before she actually took anything, though, so it’d be pointless.

“On your own today?”

Xue Yang glanced up, a little surprised at being addressed, and the shopkeeper did look a little like she regretted speaking up. Xue Yang grinned at her, bright and friendly, and she relaxed. “Looks like,” he said.

“Is your family well?” Xue Yang blinked at her, and she gestured at the herbs he was collecting. “I only ask because of your choice of purchases.”

“They’re fine,” Xue Yang said automatically, and then, “my what?”

“Your...family?” The shopkeeper began to look nervous again. “That daoshi and the little blind girl.”

Xue Yang stared. And then burst out laughing. “Fuck,” he said. “Fuck, you think-”

She looked baffled, which just made him laugh harder.

“They’re not my family,” Xue Yang said. “That’s - I’m going to tell a-Qing you said that. She’ll hate it.”

“Then…” she looked even more confused. Xue Yang was tempted to reach out and pat her on the cheek. He just shook his head and smiled.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You wouldn’t get it anyway.”

He paid something almost approximating a fair price for the herbs and walked away, still laughing to himself. He made it halfway back to the yizhuang before it stopped, very suddenly.

Caught on that ridiculous word - family - he’d missed the other thing.

On your own today? Like that was a surprise. Like he wasn’t supposed to be, or wasn’t expected to be. Incomplete in himself, like people saw him and looked next to him for someone else. Someones, apparently.

Xue Yang stopped. Obviously Xiao Xingchen was his and it was good that people knew that and could see it, and if anyone was going to kill a-Qing it was going to be him, so.

An eel wriggled through his guts and then curled around his stomach.

It wasn’t...exactly a bad feeling.

He wasn’t sure it was a good one, either.

Whatever, he told himself, and picked up his pace again, heading-

(Home.)

He ended up not mentioning the conversation at all.

Xue Yang was watching Xiao Xingchen weaving a basket when it happened.

The three of them huddled around a fire, a-Qing shivering even wrapped in a blanket, and he was tempted to throw something at her and tell her that if she couldn’t handle the cold she should just go inside. She wouldn’t, though. Stubborn idiot.

He leaned his elbows on his knees and propped his chin on his hand, just thinking, just - watching. A smile pulling at his mouth. Xiao Xingchen wasn’t smiling, his expression serious and focused the way he got when he was concentrating on something.

It wasn’t his favorite Xiao Xingchen expression, but it was a good one. Up there with the one he made when Xue Yang made him laugh, helpless and unrestrained, and the one he made when Xue Yang had his mouth on his cock and he was coming apart.

His eyes dropped to Xiao Xingchen’s hands, watching the sure and confident way they moved, and he wondered if they got enough materials if Xiao Xingchen could sell his work. Maybe he’d put the idea to him. Might be able to bring in some extra money, get another blanket for the winter. Maybe next year-

Xue Yang’s thoughts hitched.

Next year.

Typically, Xue Yang did not plan very far ahead. He kept his expectations for the future relatively low, and his plans fairly immediate. There was no point in anticipating a future that might never come, or might come in a shape that you could never foresee. Better to just be able to react, to improvise and adapt and change course as necessary.

The past two and a half years, he’d been biding his time, he’d been waiting and playing things out as they came. Knowing he could move on whenever he wanted, could end this whenever he wanted.

Next year.

Xue Yang dropped his hand from his chin and sat up, an alarm shrilling at the back of his head. You’ve settled, it said. You’ve been leashed, you’ve been tamed.

Get out. Get out now.

His fingers itched. The back of his neck itched. His breath caught in his chest and he rocked back like he’d been shoved.

Xiao Xingchen stopped weaving and turned his head in his direction.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“No,” Xue Yang said automatically. “No, I’m good.”

The alarm went quiet. His thoughts went quiet. Slowly, the tension bled out of him.

So what?

So what if I stay? So what if I keep this? Isn’t it mine? Don’t I deserve it?

Besides. Next year was next year. Why worry about it now? It was just thinking. It wasn’t like he was ruling out anything else. It wasn’t like he couldn’t change his mind later. Wasn’t like he was committing to anything. And even if he was - so what?

This life was his, now. Why should he have to let it go?

“Are you sure?” Xiao Xingchen asked.

“Yeah,” Xue Yang said. “I’m sure.”

ONE.

Okay. Okay.

So that hadn’t ended up going as planned, but it was fine. He hadn’t expected Xiao Xingchen to do that, the idiot - why, why would he do that, why turn his sword on himself, why did he have to go and-

But it was fine. Xue Yang knew how to bring him back. And yes, all right, he’d be dead and not the same as he’d been before, but that was fine, too. They’d figure it out. And Xiao Xingchen would make a glorious fierce corpse.

As soon as he woke up, they’d start over.

He washed him up carefully. Cleaned the blood off his hands, washed his face and changed the bandage over his eyes to a clean one.

(Xiao Xingchen hadn’t liked him doing that. He got so self-conscious about it. Xue Yang brushed his fingers against his eyelids, collapsed into empty sockets, and reminded himself to mention that he thought they were beautiful.)

Xue Yang’s hands stuttered a little cleaning the open wound across his throat. It didn’t look too bad, really. Shuanghua’s edge was very sharp, the edges neat and clean.

He pulled his eyes away and checked the talismans again; they were right, obviously. Xue Yang knew what he was doing here, better than anyone still alive. Now he just had to wait.

Everything should be perfect for when he woke up, though. That’d been - a bad argument, ugly, Xiao Xingchen had said some nasty things that’d hurt but it didn’t matter now, it wasn’t important now. He’d have to figure out what to do about a-Qing. Xue Yang wanted her dead, but Xiao Xingchen liked her. Maybe it’d make him happy, having her around still.

He’d just carve her eyes out, make her blind for real. Settle for that.

Xue Yang cleaned up the house - their house, the house they’d shared, repaired together. He started with just the coffin home itself and then moved on to the courtyard, because Xiao Xingchen hadn’t woken up yet and he’d be happy to see that, too; he always liked it when things were clean.

He’d always liked it when-

Xue Yang’s thoughts stuttered, like his hands.

He cleaned and polished Shuanghua and then placed it carefully out of reach - he’d give it back, of course, eventually, but not until he was sure that Xiao Xingchen could be trusted with it, that he would be good.

And he would be. This was - this was better, really, than before. Xiao Xingchen knew him, now, and as a fierce corpse Xue Yang would be able to control him and keep him from doing anything stupid, like - like cutting his own throat, say. Xiao Xingchen would only do what he wanted-

He wanted Xiao Xingchen to give him that look, the amused-but-frustrated one that he got when Xue Yang said something a little too outrageous, where he felt like he shouldn’t laugh but still sort of wanted to. He’d still do that, right?

He won’t. You know he won’t.

Xue Yang bit his tongue and went to make dinner. Automatically, he started out making it for three, but he caught himself quickly enough and cut down the portions. Keeping his ears tuned for any sound, for movement, for Xiao Xingchen waking up and realizing that he wasn’t dead, that he still had his life and still could have his life, the one he’d been happy with before Song Lan had to come along and ruin everything.

Because he was going to wake up. Any minute now. It was taking longer than normal but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to work. It had to work, there was no reason it shouldn’t work.

He laid out the food and sat down. It was dark out, it’d been hours, but that was okay. It was good that it’d taken this long, actually, since it’d given Xue Yang all this time to get ready, to make everything ready, everything in place the way that Xiao Xingchen would want it. Remind him that really, Song Lan had left him, everyone else had left him, but Xue Yang was still here and wasn’t leaving, would never leave.

Any minute now.

Everything was going to be all right.

#xue yang #xuexiao #xiao xingchen #the sad queer cultivators show #a wild fic appeared #the untamed #mdzs #mdzsnet

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yukiwrites · 3 years

Text

Getting Back Together

Thank you so much for the patience and support as always, @breeachuu! I hope you like it!

Summary: After five years of loneliness and anxiety, Wolfram discovers that Byleth had woken up from her Slumber and had headed to the Monastery. The day they had promised to meet again when they were younger had finally come, so now the former classmates all flocked back together to fight for the Kingdom.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

Wolfram felt the icy grip of fear encroach him from inside. Byleth was nowhere to be found -- thought that wasn’t even the worst part.

He couldn’t feel her, either. It felt very much like that time whence she was thrown into a portal by Solon; it was as though she didn’t exist. The Blood that had been emitting its constant energy throughout the years… it simply wasn’t anymore.

“No, Wolfram, calm down, maybe,” he took a shaky breath as his eyes darted from one side of the dark cave to the other, “maybe she’s just confused after waking up from the Slumber. Mother said that we shouldn’t wake a dragonkin from one because we don’t know the state of mind they’ll be in…”

The half manakete quickly made excuses as his breathing became more and more uneven. His body shook, though he couldn’t even pay attention to it at the moment, what with his mind being so preoccupied.

If he was to look for her, then he had to be quick about it -- dawn was just about to break so he would lose the cloak of the night to shield him and his wings from leering eyes. Perhaps it would be better to fly on Aquilo to be safe.

Breathing deeply, Wolfie made up his mind to do what he could do at the moment instead of despairing. Look for her. Be with her. The Heart of Immortals had finally woken up from its Slumber so he had to be beside her to fulfil his mission.

… Of course, Byleth had turned into a special existence for him after all these years as well, so it wasn’t just about the mission. He had to help a valued friend in need.

Besides, Dimitri was back at the Monastery as well. If all else failed, Wolfram could still reunite with his friend and they’d plan what to do next together.

“Together…” Wolfie murmured as he nodded to himself in the darkness before running out of the cave with a steeled resolve. He had gotten used to solitude during this exile, but it wasn’t as though he enjoyed it.

He was a boy who loved to be around people first and foremost, after all.

The moment he exited the cave to call for Aquilo so they could watch from the skies, Wolfram sensed something pulling at him from the Monastery. It was something hard to explain, like he had walked to the wrong direction once he gave his back to the mountain; like something, not unlike a string, had made his steps heavier as long as he went against it.

Wolfram gasped, looking up as he blew his whistle to call for Aquilo.

It was the Blood!

Well, not entirely, anyway. It felt too drowsy to feel like the Blood, but since it was a presence so akin to his own though it bore a significant difference he couldn’t quite pinpoint; Wolfram was sure it was the presence of the Blood.

He had been right, after all! The Heart of Immortals was truly in a confused state after waking up from the Slumber!

As the first lights of dawn broke, Wolfram got on Aquilo’s back, flying at full speed towards the place that had been all but a shell of what it once was; towards the only place that he had called home outside of his own world.

To the Monastery!

Huffing, Wolfram made use of all of his heightened senses to scout from the sky, still finding it difficult to pinpoint the Blood’s exact location. He could hear the sounds of fighting from multiple sources -- perhaps more ruffians had broken in after Dimitri had cleared out the first few that had gotten in his way -- but he couldn’t see through walls, so he would need to land eventually to get a closer look.

A voice not too far from his spot at the sky made Wolfie steer Aquilo in its direction out of pure reflex, however.

“Why… Why are you here?”

It was faint, almost like a whisper, but it was unmistakingly Dimitri’s voice.

Had he found Byleth?!

“Maybe that’s really the right direction! I can feel the fog around the Blood clearing…” Wolfram said aloud, habit he had cultivated even more during these years of solitude. As he approached the remains of a garden, he saw some familiar faces. “Wait, those are…!”

Ashe, Annette, Mercedes… and Byleth. There were more presences all around them so he couldn’t be sure of how many of those were hostile or friendly, but to see the faces of those he had missed for so long, finally within his grasp…

Wolfram’s eyes itched with tears before he even approached them to help with the bandit problem.

“Hey, Wolfie’s here too!” Annette waved cheerfully, forgetting that she was giving away her position to the enemies all around.

“Annie, shh!” Mercedes pulled her friend’s arm, taking her behind a wall.

A fight against looters and robbers certainly wasn’t the time to feel as elated as Wolfram felt at that moment, but he couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear before drying his tears. Puffing his chest, he focused on the task at hand so he could properly hug all of them later.

The most impressive part was how more and more of his past classmates showed up the longer the battle went on. Ingrid, Felix, Sylvain, Dorothea, Caspar, Linhardt and even Bernadetta…

By the time they all gathered together, it felt as though they could simply sit down and wait for Byleth’s lesson to begin -- they were basically all accounted for!

Wolfram covered his face with both hands to sniffle silently as the grown-up faces of his treasured classmates one by one entered into view.

A strong arm around his neck made Wolfram bend down in surprise, being almost choked in the middle of the incredible strength behind the shorter stature.

“Yo! Still crying as always, huh, Wolf?” Caspar grinned as he tightened the embrace, patting Wolfram’s chest with such vigor that it should be called ‘manhandling’ instead of ‘patting’.

“C-Caspar…” Wolfie hiccuped, his chest wringing in emotion. Byleth was awake, his classmates were flocking together… it felt as though all the loneliness he had felt so far was a lie.

There were so many things he wanted to do. So many things he wanted to ask.

He wanted to shake Byleth’s shoulders and ask her how in the world she had woken up so suddenly; how did she get back to the monastery in the exact timeframe he was away… How did she feel, why did she need to go into a Slumber… So many things.

He wanted to ask each and every one of his classmates how the war had treated them; he wanted to hug them and cry in their arms; he wanted to hold Dimitri’s hand to help him out of the dark place that seemed to have taken over inside his mind.

But he was overwhelmed -- with his own feelings and emotions, yes, but also with the amount of people talking all around him: they were asking each other how they’d been, what they had been doing and how in the world they all managed to come together after five years of war.

However, the answer they most wanted to hear was Dimitri’s. He had been sentenced to death right after the war started, so having him stand there in their midst was surprising to say the least, especially to the ones who had been looking for him all this time.

Blinking the tears away, Wolfie remembered what the merchant had told him some weeks (or years?) ago: people from Duscur helped him escape, hadn’t they?

“Dedue.” Dimitri answered simply, the weight in his voice making Wolfram’s hairs stand on end instead of bringing him solace.

Noticing the somber tone, Byleth cocked her head to the side, “what happened?”

The prince scowled as his bangs covered more of his good eye. “He’s dead. He died in my place.”

A low murmur ran across the classmates as Gilbert nodded solemnly, speaking something or other about sacrifice or the war. Honestly, he could’ve started talking about baking for all that was worth -- Wolfram had stopped listening.

A buzzing sound started to ricochet inside Wolfram’s head, getting louder and louder the more he struggled to breathe. It got so painfully loud to the point of Wolfie having to hold his head with both hands as his breathing shook.

Dead? Dedue was?

They barely had had the time to properly forge a friendship.

He had been Wolfram’s first roommate and the one who opened Wolfie’s eyes about Dimitri’s inner struggle. Even though he was a man of few words, it simply meant that every single thing that left his lips was worth listening to. To think that that admirably loyal man was… That he had given his life to-

He owed Dedue so much. So much.

Trembling, Wolfram didn’t listen to a single word said during the meeting, or what was decided after it.

It was only after Caspar shook him with enough force to make his brain bounce inside his skull that the half manakete managed to blink and focus on his friend.

“Are you back? I was about to call Linhardt to take a look at you.” The shorter man frowned slightly, worried about the lack of color in Wolfie’s face.

Looking at Caspar made Wolfram suddenly aware of his surroundings again: he felt the morning air; heard his classmates’ voices and their steps as well as the ruffling of leaves all around them. It was like he had taken his first breath in a new world after a long Slumber.

Was he- was he about to enter a Slumber out of shock? It couldn’t be!

He couldn’t get into a Slumber now. Surely one had to be a very ancient or powerful dragon to need a Slumber? Although he was the child of a manakete and a human, he had much more prominent human features, so all of his family seemed to agree that he was a quarter manakete at most. Could he even get into a Slumber?

“Heeey, c’mon man, you gotta focus.” Caspar waved in front of Wolfie’s eyes, nudging his shoulder to walk to where all the others were going. “Look, everyone’s leaving us here! I’m not really good at cleaning either, but I can at least lug heavy stuff around.”

“Cleaning?” Wolfram didn’t recognize his own voice, too confused to even realize he had started walking.

“Yeah. You didn’t hear anything? We’re gonna use the Monastery as our base, but this place’s a mess. So we’re gonna clean.” Caspar kept pushing Wolfram, apparently unbothered for having to do so as he pointed with his chin towards the group walking right ahead of them. “The girls said it’s better to start with the dormitories so we can have a place to stay tonight, so c’mon, let’s go and check how everything looks now!”

Caspar’s enthusiasm and obliviousness to Wolfie’s inner turmoil stole a smile from the half manakete, though the weight inside his chest didn’t get any lighter.

“... Yeah, let’s go.” He managed to say in the end, holding Caspar’s hand so he could lead the way.

Wolfram often heard -- both back home and in Fódlan -- that a common thing humans did to cope with difficult times was to keep the body busy with chores, regardless of their nature. But that honestly wasn’t the way manaketes’ minds worked. They needed time to think and put their feelings in order, so doing other things in the meantime was distracting and stressful.

Especially because they had started cleaning the dormitories located on the first floor -- right where the room Wolfram shared with Dedue was.

The more stuff they carried outside to air them, the more they dusted and cleaned the surprisingly untouched furniture, the heavier Wolfram’s heart became. Even his head seemed to be so full of knots it made him tilt it sideways whenever he walked.

He remembered how anxious he had spent the first few nights in Dedue’s room: what if his bandanna came off while he slept? What if he sneezed and his wings popped out by accident? What if his secret was exposed on the very week of his arrival?

Of course, he also felt a tad anxious when he went to share a room with Caspar, especially about his bandanna, but it wasn’t as much as the first time -- and it was precisely because of how peaceful the time he spent with Dedue had been.

… It hurt so much.

Wolfie had wanted to tell both Caspar and Dedue about the purpose of his arrival in Fódlan, because he knew both of his roommates would accept him just like Dimitri did. Actually, he wanted to come clean about his reasons to all of his classmates, especially after living in exile for so long. He had pondered over which words to use and under which circumstances, but now everything was just a blank.

His body moved as he was told, but his brain felt like wet cotton.

Suddenly, he remembered the words his elder siblings had left him with. The words about death, parting and finding ways to deal with the loss the best way he could. Pressing his lips into a thin line, Wolfram sniffled the warm tears back as his shoulders trembled.

They never taught him how to deal with a secret he didn’t want to keep. They never taught him how to come clean with a lie he had kept for years.

They told him that experiencing war with his own skin would be hard and that he had to do anything in his power to cope with it, but… to think that it would be like this. He had barely done any fighting and the weight of this responsibility was already so heavy.

Wolfram dried the tears that fell uncaring of his best efforts to keep them away. He simply stood there, in the middle of cleaning, hiding his face with both hands as he sobbed.

There weren’t many people assigned to that specific area, but it wasn’t as though he was alone -- yet he couldn’t help the tears that streamed down his face.

Out of the former students assigned to this part of the dormitories, there were Dorothea, Caspar, Wolfram and Ashe; and the first one to see Wolfram hunched back was Dorothea. She gasped and meant to comfort the tall boy, but bit her lower lip in hesitation. Wolfie had confided in her in the past, but perhaps the best person to be by his side at that moment wasn’t her, but…

Dorothea spied Caspar with the corner of her eyes, quickly running to his side to tap his shoulder. “Caspie, I need help with something.”

“Yeah?” The young man brushed one hand over his forehead to dry the sweat after placing a cabinet on the ground. “Anything you want me to move?”

“No, it’s actually about Wolfie. Can you take him to the gardens? He… he needs a break.” She whispered, stealing a glance at the crying boy.

Caspar’s eyes immediately widened in surprise as he hurried to Wolfram’s side without even giving Dorothea a reply. “Wolf?! Hey, you okay, man? Wolf!” He shook the half manakete’s shoulder vigorously, making the hands slip out of his crying face.

“C-Casparrr!” Wolfram wailed pitifully, hugging the shorter man so as to sob on his shoulder.

Confused out of his mind, Caspar looked around as if he could find the answer of what to do just lying in the middle of the scattered furniture. He awkwardly patted Wolfram’s back, his chest sinking in what he assumed was sympathy.

Catching Caspar’s gaze, Dorothea pointed to the gardens, which made Caspar remember her previous words. “Alright!” He heaved and took Wolfram in his arms to smuggle him to the gardens. Honestly, he had no idea why they had to change locations, but since he knew he wasn’t good with sensitive matters, he chose to simply trust Dorothea and do as she said.

Wolfram barely noticed that they had moved as he hugged Caspar with everything he had as he poured all of the loneliness, uncertainties and grief of the past 5 years onto his friend’s shoulder.

Without much to do, Caspar patted Wolfram’s back with one hand as he grippeda t the grass with the other -- he felt like fighting someone. Who had made Wolfram feel that way? He wanted to fight them and settle things for good, but there was no way he could get a clear answer from his friend at the moment, so he simply waited.

It was only after the tears had dried and his throat hurt that Wolfram managed to stop himself from crying as he slowly pulled away from Caspar. “Th-thank you for being with me, Caspar. It means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it! Are you alright? Did you get into a fight? I’m gonna punch ‘em for you.” Caspar punched his open palm as he cracked his neck, but that only made Wolfram’s shoulders sag and a faint smile sprout on his lips.

“Actually, it was like everything rushed in at once, so it wasn’t just one or two things.” He took Caspar’s hands in his own so his friend wouldn’t hurt himself from clenching his fists. “It helped me clear my head a lot, though, so thank you again.”

“Sure, but,” Caspar tilted his head to the side, looking straight into Wolfie’s red, tear-stained eyes, “I’m still mad for some reason. I don’t like seeing you like this, Wolf.” He said in a whisper, unsure of his own feelings.

Wolfram’s chin trembled with emotion as Caspar reached out to move a few strands of hair that had glued themselves on Wolfie’s face. “Actually I- I have something to tell you, Caspar.” Wolfram sniffled, unable to take a deep breath through his stuffy nose.

Crying had taken an immense load off of Wolfram’s shoulder, but the issue itself remained. He grieved for his friend; he wanted to tell everyone about his secret -- he wanted to be able to stand beside them proudly, without the need to hide who he was or what he had come here to do.

And Caspar had to be the first one to know from his own mouth. Not by accident like what had happened with Dimitri, but willingly, from the bottom of his heart. Of course, his mind wanted him to wait at least for night time, even if they were in a secluded location, there were people wandering around amidst their cleaning effort.

Yet, Wolfram’s heart pounded, wanting him to blurt everything out at that very moment.

“Yeah? I can’t help much with words, but I can listen.” Caspar nodded, looking up at Wolfram with the clear, sincere eyes that Wolfie liked so much.

“Actually, I’m not human.” He lowered his head to pull the bandanna off of his head, exposing his pointy ears. “I came here with a mission-”

“Whoa, wait, wait, wait, what? Wait, you remember you past? That’s awesome, Wolf! And those ears-” Caspar moved from one side to the other, taking a better look at them. “Whaddya mean ‘not human’? What else could you be? I never heard of anything not human living here…”

“Heehee,” Wolfie laughed awkwardly, scratching his chin. “I’m not from ‘here’. I came from another world under the guidance of the goddess I worship.” He grasped his locket as he spoke, his chest feeling lighter and lighter the more words left his lips. “I was told to stay by Byleth’s side and protect her during the ‘turmoil’ that would shake this world, though I had no idea how soon war would break out after I arrived…”

Caspar frowned so deeply one could see the gears inside his brain struggling to work. “So the goddess appeared for you too? Like with the Professor?” He still couldn’t grasp it due to the sheer absurdity of it all.

Snorting, Wolfie held his locket closer and focused on his dragonstone. “I’ll just show you.” He brought out dragon half as he felt part of his body being covered by scales. The wings, tail and horns popped out as well, making Caspar let out a loud exclamation of surprise.

“HOLY SHIT, YOU CAN FLY?” He jumped out of his spot. “That’s dope. What the hell, man…” He murmured as he walked all around Wolfram, poking at his wings and horns.

Is that really the most surprising part here…? Wolfie snorted inwardly, glad that Caspar’s reaction was much better than he had anticipated.

He called his wings back after a few moments, still wary of the bright sun above them. “I couldn’t tell anyone about my origins since, well, it’s crazy, right? So I just said I didn’t remember anything so I could stay with Byleth.”

“Hey, wait, bring it back!” Caspar slammed Wolfram’s back with both hands right where his wings were. “That’s so cool, I never saw someone with wings before.”

… Clearly nothing else Wolfram said would get through Caspar, so he simply giggled in amusement. “It’s still a secret, so please don’t tell anyone, okay? I can call them back at night.” He slipped the bandanna back on his head, once again covering his ears.

“I dunno why you’d hide this, it’s fucking amazing.” Caspar kneaded his knuckles on Wolfram’s back, wondering how the hell the wings went back inside. Ticklish with the constant contact, Wolfie’s laughter grew, his heart lighter than any other time he spent in Fódlan.

“We can go flying sometime when it’s quieter,” Wolfie suggested, wondering if he should ask Aquilo to carry Caspar as they soared in the night sky.

“REALLY? Hell yeah, man! When’s good? Let’s go tonight!” Caspar arm-locked Wolfie’s head, excited like a little boy to go on an adventure.

Wolfram laughed heartily, falling backwards as Caspar’s hug turned more into a wrestling match the more they cuddled.

It still hurt, but now Wolfie was glad that he had taken a tiny step towards the road of feeling better.

The cleaning effort took weeks to finish -- and it honestly would take much longer than that to actually bring the Monastery back to its full glory. They did the best they could to make the place at least enough to shelter them from rain and wind, but there was much they couldn’t do with their meager numbers -- not to mention how morale hadn’t been the best due to how Dimitri acted.

Wolfie had so much to digest he couldn’t find a good time to speak with his first friend so as to deliver the jewel to him. Besides, the friendship jewel should be exchanged when both parties were ready for the commitment of being confidants for life -- and the current Dimitri wasn’t in that state of mind, not at that moment.

Dedue’s words rang true even five years after they were uttered: Dimitri fought a losing battle within himself, and now it seemed like he had accepted the defeat. What Wolfram could do -- what any of them could do -- was to support him in any way they could.

For now, that meant fighting for him, a goal that would be accomplished much sooner than they would like, for an imperial force had been seen making its way to the Monastery after the Empire had caught wind of the Knights of Seiros coming back to reclaim it.

Dimitri laughed without any mirth in his voice once he heard about the imperial army breathing down their necks, his sleepless mien carving for the silence of the dead. Gulping, Wolfram nodded as Byleth started guiding them to their defensive positions: the Monastery had taken a great blow at the battle five years ago, but it was still a fortress of its own might; so they would be able to protect it should they act wisely.

The battle was fierce -- the imperial forces would stop at nothing to take the Monastery back as they resorted to long range weapons, destructive fireballs and assassins that slipped through their defenses to take out their healers and commanders.

Byleth guided them with all of her power, commanding them as though she predicted the enemy’s every step: She cleared out their reinforcements, secured the ballistae and surrounded their elite knights with the precision of a seasoned soldier.

Once the commander was backed into a corner, he shook with anger. “A total loss… But we can’t just return home like this…” He raised his face with fire in his eyes, aiming at the one who orchestrated his defeat. “I’ll take you with me!”

“Professor, get down!” Dimitri threw himself in front of the blow the commander sent to Byleth’s way at the same time Caspar ran to intercept it. He managed to catch the javelin with his hands before throwing them on the ground in front of the commander.

Frowning, he looked up at the man. “Hey, so you’re Randolph, right? My uncle.” He rolled his shoulder and neck before adjusting the gauntlets wrapped around his fists.

“Uncle?!” Wolfram gasped from above, making sure to hold the position Byleth had told him to. How horrible, to fight his own family in a meaningless war…

The man called Randolph widened his eyes much like Wolfram did. “Caspar?! Yes, indeed... So, I see you have chosen to oppose the Empire.” He stelled himself, taking his battle position. “If so, be warned that I won't hesitate. I'll strike you down, even if we're of the same house!”

Caspar hopped in place to warm himself up. “You took the words right outta my mouth! Graaagh!” He jumped into the fight without hesitation, his resolve having been tested a long time ago.

Wolfie admired the way Caspar threw himself into battle like he had all the answers of the world, but it still pained him to see blood fight with blood like that, so he averted his eyes from the brawl entirely.

Eventually, Randolph fell in defeat as Caspar puffed his chest proudly.

However, Dimitri stepped in, basically shoving the shorter man out of the way. “Capture him.”

The battle was won, but there was a sense of uncertainty in the air, as no one could predict what the ‘Delusional Prince’, as Dimitri came to be known, would do. Soldiers who came under Gilbert’s command heeded Dimitri’s orders and tied the man down as Byleth instructed the people who still had energy to start cleaning after the battle.

Randolph was dragged down the steps he had climbed just hours previous as the attacker, with Dimitri pulling on the rope as though unconcerned of how the commander’s head was bashed on the stairs.

He coughed blood after the third staircase, his head spinning. “I-I have family waiting for me, p-please… I can’t die here.”

Once again Dimitri laughed without mirth, pointing languidly at the fallen commander. He then took out a dagger as he crouched in front of the decaying Randolph. “A beast of your depravity, prattling on about family?” he tapped the dagger on the bleeding cheek. “How amusing.”

“As though you could understand...such a thing as love…” Randolph panted with difficulty as several of his ribs were shattered during and after the battle. “You heartless monster!”

“You are a monster too, General. You just have yet to realize it.” Dimitri slid the sharp blade through the man’s skin, as though pondering where to stab it next.

The conversation was sickening to say the least. Wolfram had been ordered to move the wounded on Aquilo back to the Monastery, but he couldn’t help but listen in with his sensitive hearing. He felt like a pit had opened in his stomach, just waiting to swallow him whole.

Not to mention, that man was Caspar’s…

He looked at his friend with pity in his eyes, wondering what the young man thought about it all.

When the conversation started to take a bloodier turn, Wolfie could see Caspar flinching in contained anger -- he was just about to reach out to stop him from doing something foolish when the smell of fresh blood rose to his nose.

Byleth had taken Randolph out of his misery.

“... What is the meaning of this?” Dimitri asked in a cold voice at the same time Caspar’s shoulders hardened and his breathing stopped for a moment before being let out all at once.

Soon the young man turned away from the scene and went back to doing what he had been ordered to do, but Wolfram couldn’t help but notice the entire scene. Byleth tried to help Dimitri out of the dark place, so there was no space for Wolfie at the moment -- besides, he wanted to give Caspar a big hug for his loss, even if it had looked like he had made peace with it even before the battle.

Wolfie ran back inside after placing the last wounded on an improvised cot on the floor, leaving it to the healers to help them back into shape. Soon he found the blue-haired head he was looking for due to his own height.

However, when he approached, he didn’t know how to even start that conversation.

“Hey.” He looked down awkwardly as Caspar was setting out to the dining hall.

“Hey there, Wolf. We did good back there, didn’t we? We taught them a lesson.” He tried to cheer, but the voice didn’t come out as high as he thought it would.

“Are… are you okay? Even if you were estranged, he was still your uncle, right?” Wolfie reached out to his friend, tentatively patting his shoulder.

Caspar twisted his lips uncomfortably. “Nah, I’m not really feeling bad about that. We weren’t really related by blood and… ugh.”

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Yeah, I don’t, really. It’s just… Dimitri’s methods, man.” He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “The guy was defeated already, there was no need to-”

It was now Wolfie’s turn to hug his friend and lend him a comforting shoulder to lean on. “Even if you say you’re okay about it, it’s a different story to be face to face at opposing sides with family. Especially after all… that.” Wolfram glossed over so as not to upset Caspar more, patting the spiky hair soothingly.

Unaccustomed to get in touch with his feelings like Wolfram, Caspar frowned inside the hug. He didn’t think that he was that upset about it, but there was this nagging feeling at the back of his heart that weighed a ton.

He was fine, he was. Truly.

But… being in Wolfram’s arms made him feel better. Lighter. So perhaps he wasn’t as ‘fine’ as he thought he was, since it felt better just to be within his friend’s warmth. There was a lot to process and he didn’t have much brain capacity for it all, but for the moment it felt good to just enjoy the hug and be pampered for a change.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #byleth fire emblem #dimitri fire emblem #caspar fire emblem #fatesona #fodlansona #my writings #yuki's commissions

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onthepageoftears · 4 years

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Kill Your Darlings Ch. 13 (Jaskier x Assassin!Reader) || Witcher

A/N: Hello all! I hope you are well! Here’s yet another chapter of KYD! Sorry it’s a bit late, but it’s pretty long so hopefully that’ll make up for it :) We’re getting nearer and nearer to the end and it’s kind of making me sad but I’m also happy that the story will be done/out for anyone to binge through lol. Anyway, enjoy!

Your comments and feedback are always encouraged and mean a lot to me!

Summary: What you return to is not what you left behind.

Warnings: hangover, references to drinking/alcohol, dizziness, mentions of killing/kidnapping/murder/r*pe, language, TENSIONNN

Words: 3,424

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

A groan of pain escaped your lips as soon as you reached consciousness.

“You’re alive!”

You shot up out of the bed despite your throbbing head’s protest. As soon as you realized you were inside your shared room, with only Jaskier to accompany you, your shoulders relaxed. Still, you frowned at the spot he was in — the chair you planned to occupy for the night. Instead, you were sitting in the middle of the only bed in the room.

Jaskier’s voice broke through your thoughts once again, “You insisted on sleeping in the chair, don’t worry.”

“So why am I here?”

“You fell asleep before you could argue.” He chuckled at the pout that settled on your lips, walking over with a cup and handing it to you. “It’s water. But don’t…spit it at me this time.”

You smiled but took the cup greedily, chugging the liquid to quench your thirst. Once you did, you felt yourself grow slightly awkward. You couldn’t remember everything from last night, how you acted, and you never let yourself drink that much on a job. Jaskier seemed to sense your uneasiness.

“It wasn’t that bad, really.” He took the cup from you, purposefully ignoring your eyes following him as he got more water. “Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen you pass out twice already.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Then maybe this will.” He returned with more water and sat delicately on the end of the bed, the frame squeaking as he did so. “Geralt might have something to help the headache.”

You shook your head, wiping the remnants of water from your lips, “What’s the point of drinking if you’re not going to feel the pain that comes after?” He scrunched his nose up in confusion. You smirked, “What’s wrong? I thought you were a man of adventure.”

“Adventure, yes. Suffering? Not so much.”

“What adventure doesn’t have a little bit of suffering?”

“This one hasn’t been so bad.”

“Hm. Well, don’t test your luck.” You held back another groan as you stood from the bed, slightly swaying on your feet as the pain throbbed heavier against your skull.

“Easy,” Jaskier grabbed your arm to steady you, and for once, you fought back the urge to pull away. You let him hold onto your arm as you blinked away the dizziness. It took a second, but you opened your eyes once the throbbing lessened.

“I’m good.” Jaskier let go and watched you shake your head and shake out your limbs. You walked over to the pitcher of water and chugged another cup. “Where’s Geralt?”

“Right here.” You and Jaskier jumped at the same time, turning towards the now open doorway where Geralt stood. He blinked back, but a glint in his eye told you he was slightly amused at your surprise.

You rolled your eyes, “Great.”

“You ready to head back?”

You nodded and drank another cup of water, “Yeah. Are you?”

The witcher watched you with only what you could describe as curiosity, and a little bit of challenge. You both didn’t know what was waiting for you back in the city, what would happen when you returned. None of you did. And despite the hope in your heart that everything would be wrapped up quickly, your gut knew that wasn’t how it worked. And you guessed the witcher felt the same.

“I most certainly am.” Jaskier clapped his hands together, breaking you and Geralt’s gaze. “As much as I love this little village, I can’t wait to get back to the city. Do you know just how many performances I have missed?”

After you and Geralt simultaneously rolled your eyes at the bard’s comment, the three of you made your way out of the tavern not long after sunrise, once again making the trip to the city with Geralt taking the lead. This time, though, was different. You felt a different kind of uneasiness than before — what once was fear of being found was now fear of finding. This whole time you felt that Rauf would sort what happened with the payer, that he would find out why Jaskier was targeted when he was innocent. But what if he wasn’t? What if this whole time you were fooled by the witcher and the bard? It frightened you that maybe the voice in your head, the one you pushed back, was right. That your feelings were betraying you, that your gut was as trustworthy as your heart. But you pushed that away as the lute strumming bard sang next to you — your gut had been right so far in your life. It wouldn’t turn on you now.

Thankfully, night was upon you when you made it back to the city. It was easy for you to guide Jaskier and Geralt through the twists and turns of the city, keeping utmost furtiveness and staying within the shadows. You led them to another tavern, the only other one in the city — the Golden Sturgeon, which was on the other side of Novigrad. It wasn’t perfectly safe, but to be honest, nowhere was perfectly safe.

“Stay in the room until I get back,” you said as soon as the three of you successfully snuck Jaskier into the room.

To your surprise, Geralt spoke. “How will we know your guild leader has cleared this up?”

You pursed your lips and lifted your hood over your head. With a sigh, you responded, “You won’t.”

And then you were off.

—

You frowned as you squinted across the street from the merchant’s shop. It was dark, which was your first bad signal. A candle was always on inside, as most assassins in the guild came back late from assignments. You peeked your head out from beyond the alleyway, making sure no one was in sight. When there wasn’t, you snuck up to the doors and checked inside. Sure enough, the shop was empty except for the goods out on display. Still, you tugged on the door. It didn’t budge.

You cursed to yourself and stepped back. Had the guild already left the city? Rauf wouldn’t have left without notifying you somehow. There must be some sort of sign, a note, one only you would find.

Before you could look, the sound of footsteps made you jump away from the door and behind a nearby cart. It took mere seconds before the shop door was opened, and a candle was being waved around in the night.

“Who’s out here?” The voice was ordinary; you couldn’t place it in your memory. With a frown you looked over the cart, and at the sight of the merchant, you immediately jumped up.

“Thank the gods,” you sighed as you walked up to him.

The merchant from the last time you went to the guild only scrunched his face up in distaste, taking a step back. “Huh? Who are you? Why are you breaking in my shop?”

You frowned. “I’m not. I’m trying to get to the guild.”

“The guild? What are you on about?” At this point, you couldn’t tell if he was purposefully giving you a hard time or he was just dumb enough to not recognize you. Either way, you flipped your collar to reveal the guild patch.

The merchant only rolled his eyes, “The fellowship isn’t here anymore. Stop wasting my time.”

“Wait!” You stepped forward, clearing your throat to hide the desperation in your voice. “Where did they go?”

“Not far. They’re still in Novigrad.” You let out a breath of relief as the merchant kept speaking. “Just got a better place to stay. I’ve heard it’s nice. Haven’t gone there myself yet — they said they’d need me for supplies but still haven’t paid for some of the crap they took before.”

You spoke before he could keep rambling on. “Where is it? The guild.”

He looked you up and down with his face scrunched in what seemed like a permanent frown, “Why should I tell you?”

“I’ll tell them to start paying for the…crap they haven’t paid for.”

You waited for the merchant to respond, pleading with your eyes as he looked at you with disdain. “Ah, whatever. They’ll probably swap me out with another sucker soon enough.” He waved the candle he was holding as he turned back towards the shop doors, “It’s closer to Arnet’s guild. Hold on, I got the address inside.”

Confusion struck you as you blindly followed the merchant inside, taking the paper that he wrote instructions on with a ghost of a nod. Rauf had never moved without telling you, hadn’t even mentioned a new place in Novigrad. You supposed he might have been too busy — maybe you were too focused on your assignment and he didn’t have a chance to mention it. But you were still wondering, wondering as you left the merchant’s shop, wondering as you followed the directions he gave you, wondering as you walked up to the two large wooden doors that reminded you of the king of beggars’ hideout.

You cleared your throat and knocked the pattern on the door that the merchant demonstrated for you. It took a second, but a slot in the door slipped open, a new face staring back at you.

“Business?”

At least it was the same script. “I’m here for the fellowship.”

“And?“

Maybe not.

“Um, I’m here to see Rauf. And—“ you revealed the patch on your collar only to receive a grunt in return. You were beginning to miss the merchant, whose grunts were at least somewhat good-natured.

“You know the code?”

“No. I didn’t even know you guys moved here.” Another grunt. You rolled your eyes, “Look, just tell Rauf Y/N is here.”

“Y/N? Shoulda just said that.”

And then the slot was closed, and you were left to blink back where the face was. Soon, you heard the sound of locks being unlatched, a bar being lifted, and then the door was open.

You frowned at the view in front of you. It was…definitely an upgrade from the last guild. The main area, which you guessed was a courtyard of sorts, was full of tables where assassins sat scattered — there were a lot of new faces like the one who had so kindly greeted you at the entrance, along with some familiar ones. They were busy with their games of gwent, though, so they didn’t notice you.

But you were focused on the amount of space that was there, on the nice torches that were set up around the room, on the new weapons area and blacksmith — who was working on what looked like fresh armor. And the smell; nothing like the sewer stench that slung to the underground guild. Instead, you smelt…food.

“Come on, I’ll take you to Rauf’s place.” The man who was once seemingly hostile began walking ahead of you, not bothering to make sure you were following. You followed after quickly, your mind racing a mile a minute — Rauf’s place? As in larger than a single jail cell?

You tried to keep the surprise from your face as you followed the man but still allowed yourself to look around. He led you to a small building on the other end of the courtyard that had another two guards just outside, only letting you through after he told them who you were. You followed him in, where a small waiting area greeted you.

“His office is down that hall.” The man jutted his head straight ahead, where a decently long corridor greeted you. “I’d suggest knocking first—”

“I think I can handle it.” You sent him a sickly sweet smile, rolling your eyes for good measure. Despite your awe of the place, you couldn’t hide your anger. So much had changed in what seemed like a short amount of time, so much that you were sure to gripe to Rauf about as soon as you saw him.

You walked down the corridor, not bothering to disguise the sound of your heavy footsteps. You were angry, and that meant all you wanted to do was stomp around; it was something that always annoyed Rauf when you were a child, something he would chastise you for again and again. But you didn’t care.

You barely knocked on the door before opening it up. The first thing you noticed was the fireplace behind him. It was illuminating the room, the smell of burning firewood immediately reminding you of sitting by the fire with your father and mother, listening to the stories they told of their early lives. But the memories were blinked away when Rauf’s eyes met yours, his joyful eyes ignoring the fury that lied beneath your own.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you.” He smiled his warm smile, but you couldn’t be fooled. You focused on closing the door behind you to avoid his gaze. “So, whaddya think?”

You took a deep breath and turned away from the now-closed door, finally stepping forward and crossing your arms over your chest. “I think I’m pretty pissed off.”

“Aren’t you always?” You didn’t laugh with him. He noticed. “Sit,” he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. You only clenched your jaw in response.

“When were you going to tell me about the new guild?”

“You found it, didn’t you?”

You bit your tongue so hard you thought you tasted blood. After a second, you let in a sharp breath, “What about the new people?”

Rauf leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head, “The word spread. More people wanted to join the fellowship.”

You only quirked a brow. Rauf let his arms fall, finally matching your mood with an exhausted expression. “I don’t know what you want me to say. We got more business.” He gestured to the pile of papers beside him. “You should be glad.”

“I’d be glad if I didn’t have to ask a merchant to tell me where my guild is.”

Rauf nodded, “That’s fair. I should have told you, somehow. But now you’re here.”

You bit your cheek, watching Rauf with squinted eyes. You were still pissed, but right now didn’t seem like a time to fight. He looked worn out still, and even though he should have made sure you knew about the guild, it was easy to forget when so much was changing.

You sighed and placed your arms on the back of the chair in front of Rauf’s desk, “After all this relocation I hope you still had time to see the payer of my assignment.”

“That I did,” Rauf nodded, his eyes moving to his desk as he searched for something.

You raised your brows when he didn’t say more, “And he cleared it?”

“Oh, no. No, the assignment was right.”

Your stomach dropped, “What?”

“The assignment was right. There was a tight timeframe, but it was right.”

“He told you that Jaskier was in Oxenfurt and got to Velen that night?”

Rauf dropped his hand to the table, finally meeting your eyes, “Why are you questioning this?”

You scoffed, “Because it doesn’t seem likely that—“

“He wasn’t in Oxenfurt, but near it. Just outside of it.” Rauf kept a stern gaze as you slammed your mouth shut. He was angry now, and his vexation made you push your weight off of the chair and back to a standing position. Could that be possible? Could the bard have been practically in two places at once? Something was still off, something was still wrong — it had to be.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as he continued, “Listen to me, Y/N. I checked the assignment for you, and I made sure it was right. The payer explained everything — and he wasn’t happy about it. But twelve murdered women is not a topic I would take lightly.”

You blinked, your voice barely above a whisper, “Raped.”

Rauf frowned, “What?”

“They were raped. The twelve women.”

“Of course.” He shook his head, bringing a palm over his face. “My mind is so crowded after the move. You’re right.”

You stiffened your back as you looked down at him. “I know I am.”

The silence in the room could be sliced with a dull knife. You watched the fire flicker behind him, unable to look him in the eye. After a few moments, he spoke, “You’re wary but determined. Just like your mother.” You frowned, and it was almost as if the breath was knocked out of you. You never thought Rauf would admit something like that before, that he would confide in you like he did when you were younger.

You watched as he stood from his chair and leaned both hands on the desk. He was thinking about something, maybe like you were thinking about your mother, about her smile, and her frown, and her tears, and her soft touch.

When you looked back at Rauf, he smiled softly. His own eyes were now soft with sincerity. “You can trust me, Y/N. Have I ever done you wrong before?”

You decided not to answer.

After a moment, he cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together, stepping out from behind the desk. “I would tell you to make yourself at home, but you’ve got a rapist to catch. You might want to hurry, though. I heard some of the other assassins talking about the assignment. And you know the rules.” Your stomach dropped again as he walked up to you and searched your face. You sensed his sadness, the distance that had sprouted between you since…you didn’t know when. But you kept your jaw set.

Rauf sighed, “I have to meet with one of the newer recruitments. I’ll let you see yourself out.” He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently before he opened the office door and left the room, closing it behind him.

Once his footsteps faded, you let out a deep sigh, closing your eyes to let your heart catch up with you. There was so much to think about, but only so much time. You wanted to trust that Rauf was thorough with the payer, but with everything moving so fast…you just couldn’t. Especially after his slip-up from before. Murder and rape were very different, and you had never heard Rauf mix something like that up. Right now, you could only for sure if you saw the payer for yourself, if you spoke with them on your own.

You swiftly walked up to Rauf’s desk, rounding to the other side so you could keep an eye on the door. Who knew how long it would take before one of the guards came looking for you, even though they knew you were close with Rauf. You looked down at the desk, where different papers were slightly scattered over the top. Rauf was a special kind of organized — where anyone else would see his desk as a complete mess, he saw a perfect stack.

You carefully flipped through the papers, looking for a familiar name. Julian. Julian. Julian. Julian. Julian—

“Julian,” you whispered, finally finding the name written in large letters. Now that you saw it, though, you couldn’t ignore the strange feeling that swirled in your stomach. You swallowed it down, instead scanning the parchment for the payer’s information.

Assignment given to: Y/N. To be completed. Some setbacks.

You passed your eyes over the words, looking up sporadically at the door across from you. You turned back to the page, licking your lips in anticipation.

And there is was, not too far down. Payer: Hotch. The name was familiar. You frowned, trying to rack your brain for a face, but there was no time. Instead, you trailed your finger across the page, where a location was printed in Rauf’s scrawled handwriting. You grabbed the quill off the desk and reached in your pouch for the instruction sheet the merchant gave you, flipping it over to write the location down as fast as possible.

Shoving the paper in your pocket and putting the parchments back in their messily organized state, you hurried to the door, breathing a sigh of relief as you noticed no one out there. But still, your heart plummeted against your ribs — Rauf mentioned the other assassins talking about your assignment, about Jaskier. You needed to get Jaskier, and find the payer, and finally clear this whole thing up. But if you didn’t get back soon, you might not get the chance.

———————————————————————————————————

Ooooo I wrote that ending so fast because I myself was feeling the thrill/tension lmao

Next chapter is gonna be a crazy one! ;) Let me know your thoughts/theories!

69 notes · View notes

mtygalvatron · 4 years

Text

The Girl and the Lost City

The city around him was stagnant, covered in a layer of snow. Still, silent, dead. It had been like that for what has felt like centuries since the plague came and took his friends, his family. It took them all one by one until he was the only one left and only thanks to his knowledge of the necromantic arts that he learned in his vain attempt to stop the plague has he alone survived. He looked at the skeletal hand that he possessed. Was this really surviving?

He made a fist with that hand and directed his will into it. In a flash of light, the dead snow-covered city transformed. The cobblestone streets were no longer in disrepair, the ruined crumbled buildings were brought back to their former glory and the sun shined with a bright light. The people came back as well, merchants selling their goods in carts, the brave knights clad in shining armor mounted on their equally well-armored horses traveled down the roads making a show of power.

Most importantly, she was there. With her amber skin and hair as gold as honey. At her waist, a child was clinging to her watching the knights and horses ride by with bright eyes and hope of becoming a knight himself one day instead of becoming a mage like his father before him. It would have been fine, as long as he was still alive that would have been fine for him. He tried to run his dead hand through the child’s hair, but it was only met with air. He knew better that none of this was real, that it was an illusion. Yet time and time again, for a moment, he would forget that and try to cling on to something tangible.

Moments later, the illusion would disappear, the world returned to its cold dead state. Leaving the undead man on his knees alone once again in his lonely frozen hell. He would play out these illusions every day trying to keep this city’s memory alive, his family’s memory alive in the only ways he knows how.

Then something shifted in the corner of the man’s eye. Something was here? How? Nothing should have gotten through the walls and wards placed to keep the plague away from the outside world. Questions were flooding his mind, but the foremost one was who or what that was, and he intended to find out. He got back on his feet with a vigor not seen since his living days and dashed where he saw movement. The small figure moved away with great haste and speed, darting into a nearby alleyway but the man gave chase. He needed to know, he hadn't spoken to anyone in ages, he has been cut off from the outside world for so long.

He turned into the alleyway, but there was no sign of the figure. Had he imagined the whole thing? Was his sanity starting to leave him after so long? Before he could ponder any further, he felt something tear into his robes and go in between his ribs on his right. For most mortal men, this would have been a painful experience full of screaming and blood. Being undead had its perks, however, and the man felt nothing but the mild annoyance of his clothes being torn as there was no flesh to cut through. He turned his head towards his would-be assailant and much to his shock discovered it was a small child, a girl, dressed in dirty, tattered rags with eyes full of fear, trembling at the sight of the animated skeleton before them.

He pulled the blade out from what was left of his body and handed it back to the child. “I believe this is yours.” He was shocked by the sound of his own voice and how it sounded so aged, so tired. He never fully realized how the weight of ages had affected him. The child took the knife back.

“Sorry,” the child said while the knife trembled in her hands.

"My name is Magnus. Do you have a name?" He decided to go slow, he was sure it wasn't every day she met skeletons that could talk.

“It’s Merlene.” She replied.

"I know, I'm scary. I wake up every day and scare myself when I look into the mirror,” he said making the best look of shock a skull can do. Laughter ensued from the two. It had been so long since Magnus laughed about anything, there was a feeling of warmth in his core that filled him.

“But why are you here? And where are your parents?” He asked.

“They told me to run away and keep running to a village where the sun sets and find the innkeeper there. But I came here because I heard about the stories of the brave knights and wizards here that could stop any evil,” she said.

“So, you came here for help? Well, I'm sorry, but this city has been gone for a long time now. No one should have even been able to get through the barrier, although I guess there are exceptions to that,” he said as he gestured towards Merlene. “How did you get in here anyway?”

“Oh, there was a hole in the wall at the edge of town, I just squeezed myself through that,” she said as she pointed towards the direction of the walls.

As absurd as it sounded, it made sense. The way the barrier was set up was that it would supplement the walls that were already built beforehand so that the mages didn't have to exert anymore of their power than they had to. The barrier was supposed to be taken down once the plague was cured, but a cure didn’t come fast enough, and the city withered and died as a result. With Magnus as the only mage left, he wasn’t powerful enough to take it down himself. And he never had the strength to tear down a wall on his own, or least that’s what he told himself.

"But you can help, right? You were a knight or a wizard, right?" Merlene asked, filled with hope.

“I… don’t think I can go out there,” Magnus said. “If your initial reaction is any indication, I fear I would not last too long among the people out there, they would see a monster and destroy me.”

“Huh, well we could get you a mask, or a helmet!” She said. “Then they can’t see your face.” Merlene darted out of the alleyway and towards where the old blacksmith was. Magnus barely had time to leave the alley before a helmet was unceremoniously thrust into his arms.

“See, Magnus, now no one is going to know!”

“I’m supposed to wear a helmet at all times?”

“We can worry about that when it comes up, c’mon!” Merlene grabs his hand and begins pulling him towards the exit.

Magnus had to stop the child. “Just give me one moment, there’s something I need to do first before I leave,” he said as he removed his hand from Merlene’s grip and walked further into the town and towards the castle. Some supplies needed to be gathered on this trip and Magnus was not one to go on journeys unprepared. An old map of the world from what used to be the cartographer's house, a leather water pouch, and a sack to hold these items in. The only perk about living in this empty city was that he didn't need to ask permission to take anything. In his own house, Magnus took a single sword still sheathed in a fine leather sheath. With those items gathered, Magnus took what could be thought of as a deep breath and headed towards the cemetery on the hill.

Magnus kneeled in front of two gravestones and softly spoke to them. “I just wanted to say that I’m taking a trip. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for, but I promise I’ll return to you two. One way or another.” He picked up a sheathed sword and unsheathed it, shining the muted light of this stagnant city. “Jeralt, this was going to be yours someday, when you were older, but it seems I may need use of it before the journey is through. I hope you can forgive me, son.” He got up, sheathed his sword and walked. Taking one look back before he carried on.

The wall indeed had a crack in it and time had seen to it that it would be wide enough that a body could squeeze through it with enough effort. The first thing Magnus noticed was how bright everything was, without the filter of the barrier the sun shined through brighter than he thought was possible. The wind flowed and the trees, the trees were green and flowing with life. The feeling and sounds of life surrounded the two and Magnus had to stop for a moment to soak it all in.

“Are you okay?” Merlene asked with a look of concern as Magnus stood silent.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just getting my bearings. It's just been so long since I've left the city." Magnus looked around. "There used to be a path nearby, but it looks like it's been overgrown." He pulled out a dusty map, yellowed with age. “The only village in this area where the sun sets is here," he says pointing at a small village by the ocean. “Is this the place your parents were talking about?”

"Yep, that's it. Wow, that's an old map, Magnus. You think it’s still up to date?”

"Up to date enough to suit our needs, let's get going before darkness falls," Magnus said as he walked off west towards their destination. Merlene trailing behind.

Traveling the countryside brought an invisible smile to Magnus’ face. He remembered the times he walked about with his wife outside of the city. Katya loved nature and the walks gave the precious time he needed away from the hustle and bustle of the castle, the nobles’ constant mandates and the general noisiness of life itself. It was amazing to Magnus that these were the little things that he missed, the sounds and sights of a world that was alive were beauty compared to the cold stagnant world that he was lost to for so long. As the duo passed a lake Magnus remarks "I remember this place, it's where I proposed to my wife. The water was so clear that day. Oh, how I missed all of this.”

The sun began to get low so the two decided to make camp for the night. Around the warm flickering fire, Magnus watched through his helmet as Merlene ate a loaf of bread. Merlene must have noticed because she asked, “Did you want some?”

"Oh no thank you, I don't have the stomach for it," Magnus replied laughing to himself slightly.

“Oh, because of the whole skeleton thing, right?” Merlene said stuffing her face.

“Yes,” Magnus said, peeved that his joke fell flat on its face.

The duo enjoyed a comfortable silence through the night. Only the chirps of crickets, the occasional hoots of an owl and the crackling of the wood in the campfire filled the sound in the air.

“Hey, can I ask you a question,” Merlene asked breaking the silence. “How come you’re a skeleton, what happened?”

"That's because… I got sick one day. A plague came around and a lot of people got sick back then, in fact, the whole city caught it eventually. My colleagues and I tried to find a way to cure it, but then we all got sick too. I knew it was a matter of time before the plague took me and our only chance of curing it, so I turned to my knowledge of the magical arts to keep myself alive. As you can see now,” Magnus said as he gestured towards himself, “that solution is not without its costs.”

“But if you were in a group, what happened to them why couldn’t you use your. “Merlene was cut short by the sound of a stick snapping in the darkness surrounding them. “Did you hear that?”

Magnus was already on his feet and kicking dust into the fire to put it out. Maybe it was a predator, or perhaps it was this ‘evil’ that Merlene spoke of back in the city. Either way, his sword was out and ready. “Stay here child, I’ll be right back,” he said as he walked away from the makeshift camp and toward the noise in the distance.

It wasn’t long until Magnus could make out the light of a torch and two voices in the dark of the woods.

“You sure the girl ran off this way?”

“Of course, I’m sure you fool, where else could she have gone?”

“What about that weird walled city over yonder?”

“You’re kidding, that place is cursed. No one can get in there, you’d have to be insane to try. Now quit your whining and find her so we can get paid.”

It wasn't long until the two ragged-looking men had caught notice of Magnus in his helmet with his sword out.

"And who might you be, eh? Little late to go out for a walk isn't it?" The man said, the wrinkles in his face betraying an older, possibly more experienced man. His hand was on the hilt of his sword around his waist.

“Why are you two searching for a girl in this neck of the woods?” Magnus replied under his helmet.

“That ain’t none of your business lad, just move along before you get hurt,” the younger fellow said while visibly shaken, either by excitement or fear. Sword already in hand.

“Well I plan to make it my business,” Magnus said as he readied his sword with both his bony hands.

The younger one rushed forward with great haste and Magnus met the lad's fury with his steel. The sound of metal clashing against each other reverberated throughout the forest. Magnus went in for a strike, but the young one dodged swiftly and left Magnus open for a strike as a sword plunged into his chest and ran through the other side. Magnus was cursing to himself that he’d let himself become lax in his sword training.

At first, the man’s face had a sense of satisfaction at such an impact, but that look slowly twisted into one of horror as Magnus remained standing, unfazed at the situation. The young man didn't even notice that he let of go his sword, leaving it embedded in Magnus' torso.

“You’ve ruined my clothes,” Magnus said while pulling the sword out dropping it to the ground below, feeling more disappointed over the loss of his shirt than feeling anything about the attack on his life. The young man was already fleeing at that point, but there was still the older man to contend with who had brandished a very ornate looking dagger.

“I know how to deal with freaks like you,” the older man said as he plunged the dagger towards Magnus, who managed to dodge out the way, but not quickly enough to avoid the blade nicking his arm. At that moment, a sensation Magnus thought he had lost had come rushing back to him so suddenly and surely that made him tumble to the ground. What is this feeling? Pain! How? Magnus hadn’t even realized he’d been screaming while his foe casually walked over ready to give the killing blow.

“Back to the hells for you, freak,” the man said before he plummeted the dagger towards Magnus.

A scream was let out as Merlene's knife sank between the ribs of the man. At that moment Magnus concentrated his will into his fist and launched his hand in the man’s general direction and with it enough force to send him flying into a nearby tree. Knocking him unconscious and perhaps breaking some bones in the process.

Magnus stumbled to his feet. “I thought I told you to stay at the camp.”

“Pretty sure you would be dead right now if I did stay. You’re welcome,” Merlene retorted.

“I would have been fine, “Magnus said while pulling a sword out of his chest. “I appreciate the effort, however.” The sword clanged on a small rock as it fell.

“Why were they after you?” Magnus was still reeling from the attack, feeling woozy What did he hit me with? He walked over to the dagger that was now on the ground. Examining it, the blade looked to be of bright silver and the golden handle had the crest of a red dragon on it. The silver blade had to mean that there was an enchantment placed on it as only the metal silver could hold magical properties that were given by enchanters. Only magic could disrupt the magical forces that kept Magnus alive. “Why did he have an enchanted blade? With the way he dressed he couldn’t have had the money to afford daggers such as this one. And what is this symbol here with the dragon?” Magnus said showing the blade to Merlene.

Merlene looked at the blade for a moment and with a flash of inspiration in her eyes she shouted, “Oh that’s the crest of my family, the Dragonscales.”

Magnus never heard of the Dragonscales in his years of studies, but he figured that due to his time in isolation from the rest of the world new, powerful families have arisen in the absence of the old kingdom and have filled the vacuum of power that was left behind. “You have a crest? That’s pressed onto weapons?”

“Yeah, doesn’t your family have one?”

“No! Only royal families have crests like this. What did your father do for a living?”

“Oh, he was the king.”

“No wonder why you’re being chased,” Magnus said laughing a bit to himself. “You’re a princess. Everyone in the land is out looking for you. You’re worth a lot of money and favor to everyone. I wish you had told me sooner.”

"Well, you never asked," Merlene replied plainly.

"No, no I guess I never did, "Magnus said, "but we should start getting a move on to that town. Nowhere is going to be safe for long with your status." Magnus pocketed the knife in his sack and the two-headed off.

The two traveled for miles on end to the town where the sun had set, there was no time for pause or rest for Magnus, who didn’t need to sleep or eat anyway. When Merlene needed to rest, however, Magnus offered to carry her on his back for at least a little while. They had to stick to the lesser-known paths and off the main trail to avoid anyone who may have known the identity of the princess.

In what felt like no time at all for Magnus, but an eternity for Merlene, they finally arrived at a town called Sunset.

"This has to be the place; the name is too on the nose not to be," Magnus said looking at the wooden sign in front of him along with the map in his hand; matching the landmarks to the old map with the ones he could see around town. A waterwheel, the oddly shaped rock. The entire ocean that was by the coast was a large indicator as well. “What were you supposed to do once you got here, Merlene?”

Before Merlene could get a word out of her mouth. A crowd had gathered around the two. Someone started speaking "You're the princess, yes, and this is your bodyguard? We can help you, just follow us.” The two weren’t given much of a choice as the crowd directed their movements toward an old lighthouse near the outskirts of town.

The two were placed in a room within the lighthouse. In one of the chairs sat an elderly woman with greyish-red hair. “I’m Rose, and you must be Merlene,” she said looking at her, paying no attention to Magnus, “Come have a seat, there is much to discuss.”

The two took a seat as instructed and listened to Rose. “It is a very unfortunate thing that has happened to your family, Merlene with how your uncle rose to power and has taken your father’s place as king. Of course, you still have your supporters as you are the rightful heir to the throne but currently, we feel that the time for you to reclaim your rightful place is not right.”

“What are you saying then?” Merlene finally spoke.

“Well, the council feels that it would be better for everyone that you sit and bide your time and hide away from the mainland until you're ready to rule," Rose replied.

“I don’t get it, I thought you people would help me save Mom and Dad," Merlene said as tears welled up in her eyes. She tried her best not to let her face betray her emotions but in the end, her face contorted, and the tears fell from her eyes.

“I thought we were here to help liberate this child's land from tyranny and corruption," Magnus said. "Why are we running away to gods know where to ‘bide our time'? There are contingencies for these kinds of situations, a reserve army, a cabal of secret guardians. What it sounds like is that you want to send her away where she won't be in the way."

“Now that’s not what’s happening at all… who are you again?” Rose said.

“I am Magnus of the Old Kingdom and I am not letting you send her away so that you may grow fat from her situation.” There was a fire in his voice, one that he hasn’t felt in many lifetimes. “Merlene get up, we’re leaving. We’ll reclaim your throne in our own way.”

"We can't let you just leave you know. There's too much at stake to lose because you don't want to fall in line with the new order.” As Rose said this a group of armed men came barreling into the room. Swords drawn and ready for action.

But Magnus was ready too. "Merlene, close your eyes." Ready or not, Magnus released a flash of light from his hands it was as if the sun had been birthed in that very room. Magnus grabbed Merlene and made a bolt for the exit while the guards were blinded by the light.

Outside of town, far away from any other people. Magnus and Merlene sat in a clearing in the nearby forest.

"So, it seems your uncle has overthrown the rule of your family. It's little wonder why they were sending men after you. He wanted to be sure that no loose ends were running around and becoming a potential problem for him later." Magnus said mostly to himself. Merlene sat in shock at the current events.

“I’m not going to let them exile you, Merlene. No one should be put into isolation, away from the people they love.” Magnus said, speaking from his own experience. “We’re going to your kingdom, we’re going to find your parents and we’re going to bring your uncle to justice.”

“But how, Magnus? No one will help us.” Marlene spoke.

"There's nothing to fear. I have a plan, but we need to move we haste and for that, we're going to need to borrow horses.” Magnus said.

Out on the road, there were men on horseback moving at a pace that indicated that they were searching for something. Magnus and Merlene were hidden away in nearby bushes, listening in on their conversation.

“Gotta be careful with her bodyguard, they say he’s got magics.” One voice said.

“Ain’t no such thing as magics. Don’t let ‘em get in your head.” Another voice replied.

Magnus clinched his skeletal fist and walked out into plain view in front of the men. The two saw him immediately and called out to him. “Hey! Where’s the girl? Make this easy for us and maybe you’ll get to keep your life, eh?”

Magnus remained silent. Unmoving from the center of the road. The men got off their horses, swords in hand already and moved in on Magnus.

“Let’s see you keep up the silent treatment after this then.” The man slashed with his sword at Magnus but met with only air. The figure of Magnus soon disappeared into thin air as well. Before the two realized in a horse ran between them and into the surrounding forest. By the time they turned around the other horse, carrying two, was running off into the distance.

"You sure do know a lot of magic, Magnus," Merelene said, wind flowing through her hair, holding tight to Magnus as they rode on horseback.

“Well yes. I studied a lot of magic back in my time and my people were known for having the best mages and sorcerers in the land.” Magnus said, fondly remembering the years he spent pouring over old texts and ancient tomes and seeing the results of his research become manifest through new spells.

“Do you think you could teach me magic after all this is over?” Merelene asked.

Magnus thought over it for a moment. His son was never interested in magic despite how hard he pushed it on him. “Yes, I think I could teach you a few things. Help you avoid burning your eyebrows off and learning practical spells.” Magnus said, remembering the time he lost all his hair in a magical mishap.

The trip to The Dragonscale Kingdom was long but shortened due to the use of horses. Magnus wondered why he didn’t use them at the start. Magnus pulled back on the reins and brought the horse to a stop. They were still a good distance away from the entrance gates.

"You know, in my day this place was just a small village and a bit of farmland," Magnus said looking surveying over the land in his helmet.

“Yeah, my great grandfather fought a dragon, defeated it and sold the scales to make enough money to build a castle and name himself king," Marlene answered.

“Most people can’t just name themselves king, but who would argue with a man that fought a dragon and lived?” Magnus said. “Well enough stalling, time to get this plan in motion.”

“What is this plan?” Marelene asked.

"It's almost the same thing we did to get these horses, but on a larger scale," Magnus said, clenching both of his fists. He took what could have been considered a deep breath and outstretched his hands. Suddenly, numerous knights clad in shining armor on top of golden steads began to appear out of thin air and began to march down toward the castle with the sound of rhythmic thumping of hooves on the ground. "Hopefully that will keep them distracted enough for us to slip into the castle from the back," Magnus said giving the horse a light kick and riding off to the back entrance.

As predicted a group of soldiers came to meet the slowly approaching knights. Numerous archers began lining up and reading their arrows waiting to hear the command to fire. Magnus and Merlene were already slipping in through the back when the archers began to ineffectively loose arrows against the illusory knights. Unfazed by the arrows the knights continued onwards.

The city streets were empty, the townsfolk were likely held up in their houses looking to avoid the conflict. “Merelene do you know where the dungeons are? I expect that’s where we’ll find your parents.”

“I think it’s under the castle. I wasn’t allowed down there, so I don’t know that place so well.” Merelene said.

“That’s quite alright,” Magnus said, “I don’t expect a child to play much in the dungeons.”

The castle was nearly as empty as the city streets. High ceilings and banners hung on the castle walls. Most interestingly was the large skeletal dragon hanging high from the ceiling. The lack of life in the castle signified to Magnus that the recent coup has left the castle so short-staffed that they couldn't manage to form some sort of defense against people sneaking in. It was an advantage that Magnus didn’t mind exploiting. The two made their way down the stairs and found row upon row of prison cells filled with people.

"I know these guys, these are the castle workers," Merlene said.

“Looks like those who didn’t join in the rebellion were locked up here.” Said Magnus.

Requests and pleading for freedom began to fill the hallways. Magnus, with a simple use of magic, broke the locks on the cells. Soon the hallway was crowded with the bodies of prisoners; dirty and disheveled from their imprisonment. “Arm yourselves however you can.” Magnus said over the crowd. “the rebels shall be upon us soon I feel.” Many of the people began rushing up the stairs out of the dungeons.

Magnus stopped one of the former prisoners, “Have you seen the king and queen?” He asked.

“I heard that they were locked in the highest tower in the castle, sir.” The prisoner replied before running off with the rest.

A commotion could be heard upstairs, the clanging of metal against metal mingling with screaming and yells. The sound of combat was afoot as the rebel army had begun to pour back into the castle. Magnus turned to Merlene, “I need to get to the top of the castle to free your parents, but it sounds like the fighting has started outside, so I need you to stick close to me, ok?”

“Yeah, I got it, don't worry," Merlene said.

Magnus handed her the ornate blade he picked up from the brigand. “Just in case.” He said. Moving forward with sword in hand.

Stepping out of the dungeon the world was chaos, combatants swinging swords, clubs and improvised weapons. Some of the prisoners must have been soldiers as they were holding their own very well against the better-armored rebels. Magnus and Marlene weaved though the storm of blades toward the upper stairs only to be stopped by a large man in ornate armor covered in shining silver scales, carrying an oversized and cruel-looking morning star.

"That's my uncle," Merlene said, close behind Magnus.

"Yeah, that figures," Magnus responded.

“You don’t look like one of the rabble I had locked away, who are you?” The false king asked.

“I am Magnus, friend to the true king. And you are?” Magnus responded.

"You come to my castle asking who I am? Do you even know what you're doing here? I am Erik Dragonscale, king of this land that you have stumbled on." Erik's grip on his weapon grew tighter.

“I know exactly why I am here. To free this land of your grip.” Magnus said his free hand gripping into a fist.

“The commoners don’t even care about who’s in charge. Enough talk out of you.” Erik swung his spiked club down towards Magnus who quickly threw up an invisible barrier with his free hand. The force of the blow, however, was too much for Magnus and his skeletal arm shattered into splinters as he flew into a crowd in the center courtyard. There was no pain from the blow, but the attack left Magnus at a considerable disadvantage. At some point, the blow had knocked off Magnus’ helmet revealing his skull for all to see.

“Ah, I see you're not only a rabble-rouser but an abomination as well. How many souls have you stolen to achieve this pitiful form?" Erik said gesturing towards Magnus who was struggling to stand up with only one arm. Magnus had to rest upon his sword has he climbed to his knees. On is ascent he caught a glimpse of the dragon bones hanging above him.

By this point, the fighting had stopped. All eyes were on the king and the animated skeleton in the room. Merlene tried to run over to Magnus, but somehow gave her a look that told her to stay back. She used this opportunity instead to run up the flight upstairs leading to the towers above.

“I have not stolen a single soul, each one was given to me by my friends and comrades for a greater good. Each of those souls still live on through me.” Magnus said, mostly to himself as he focused his will into his remaining hand.

"Enough of your blabbering," Erik shouted. "No good can come from dabbling in those magics." He started pacing towards Magnus.

"Well, let me show you what good can come from it then," Magnus said and raised his arm into the air. A bellowing, glass shattering, roar could be heard from above that stopped Erik in his tracks. Looking up he saw the dragon, once a trophy, now animated and rushing toward him with incredible speed. Erik swung his morning star at the large mass of bones in front of him, but it was to no avail as the sheer force and weight of the dragon crushed him and sent dust and debris flying in all directions.

As the dust was still settling, Magnus, who now found himself against a wall, could hear Merlene shouting for him amongst the confusion. The court was covered in dragon bones and ash slowly descended from on high like snow to the ground. In the dust, Magnus could see two tall figures and one smaller figure in front of him. It reminded Magnus of his wife and child who were still waiting for him at his snow-covered home.

“Merlene, is that you? Did you find your parents?” Magnus asked.

"Yeah, Magnus, I did," Merlene said.

“Ah, that’s great. I’m happy for you.” Magnus said, struggling to rise to his feet. One of his legs seemed to have been bent in the wrong direction. “I think, I’m going to need to rest for a bit after this.”

It had been some time since Magnus made his journey and he was now back in his home of the lost city. The barrier was still covering the sky, but with great effort, the hole in the wall was widened so that people could come and go as they pleased. Mostly it was for Merlene to come and go as she pleased as the outside world tended to leave him alone. Merlene came to the snowy town every month for her magic lessons. And right on time as always, Merlene was waiting for him outside of his house.

“You ready for your next lesson?” Magnus asked.

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," Merlene replied. Hair still growing in from the last lesson.

“Well then let’s get to work.” Said Magnus.

#creative writing #creativewriters #fantasy #short story #amwriting #magic

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plutojones · 3 years

Text

Chapter Eleven: Trinity Restored

Riften. It felt like it had been ages since she’d been home. Heh. Home. It’d only been a couple months since she’d come to Skryim. The cold air of winter was beginning to set in, and she could feel the chill deep in her bones as she made her way down to the Ratway. Opening the door to the Ragged Flagon she felt a mixture of emotions. Comfort, Peace, Anxiety, Fear. Keeping her hood up she made her way past the merchants towards the tavern. Karliah was sitting at one of the tables, looking towards Andie as she approached. She stands up and walks over, keeping her voice low so only Andie can hear.

“I'm glad you're here. I think some of these people are beginning to suspect who I am. Are you ready to face the Guild?”

“Ha. No. What if Mercer is there?” “Then we show them Gallus's journal and hope for the best. Remember, we have proof and all he's got is his word.” She pulls out the journal and shows it to Andie. “Let’s go.”

The two make their way into the back, through the false wardrobe, past the two guards on duty, and into the Ragged Flagon’s cistern.

Immediately standing between them and the rest of the cistern is Brynjolf, Delvin, and Vex.

“You better have a damn good reason to be here with that murderer.” There’s a quiver to Brynjolf’s voice. An expression Andie was all too familiar with. The need to take care of his family torn with his desire to help her.

“Bryn-”

“Please, lower your weapons so we can speak. I have proof that you've all been misled!”

“No tricks, Karliah or I'll cut you down where you stand. Now what's this so-called proof you speak of?”

Karliah holds out the journal to Brynjolf. “I have Gallus' journal. I think you'll find its contents disturbing.”

“Let me see. No, it... it can't be. This can't be true. I've known Mercer too long…”

“It's true, Brynjolf. Every word. Mercer's been stealing from the Guild for years, right under your noses.” Andie looks between Brynjolf, Delvin, and Vex, hesitantly waiting to say something.

“There's only one way to find out if what the lass says is true. Delvin, I'll need you to open the Vault.” Brynjolf turns to begin walking across the bridge to the vault on the opposite side.

“Wait just a blessed moment, Bryn. What's in that book? What did it say?” Delvin and Vex turn after Brynjolf, following him. Staying behind a good bit, Andie and Karliah follow as well.

“It says Mercer's been stealing from our vault for years. Gallus was looking into it before he was murdered.” Brynjolf holds out the journal before taking it back and skimming through it again.

Delvin crosses his arms. “How can Mercer open up a vault that needs two keys? It's impossible. Could he pick his way in?”

Vex stands next to Delvin. “No way. That door has the best puzzle locks money can buy. There's no way it can be picked open.”

“He didn't need to pick the lock.” Karliah pipes up from behind Andie.

“What's she on about?” Delvin turns to look at Karliah.

“Use your key on the vault, Delvin. We'll open it up and find out the truth.” Brynjolf motions for him to step forward towards the pair of double doors. While he does, Andie’s mind races back to the ruins, to the impossible doors that Mercer seemed to pick effortlessly. What did Karliah know? If he didn’t pick the lock, how did he do it?

“I've used my key, but the vault's still locked up tighter than a drum. Now use yours.”

Brynjolf approached the door, inserted his key, and together the two men pushed the doors open to reveal a chamber filled with empty chests, shelves, crates, everything.

“By the Eight! It's gone, everything's gone! Get in here, all of you!” Brynjolf runs inside.

“The gold, the jewels... it's all gone.”

Vex slams her hand against one of the doors. “That son-of-a-bitch! I'll kill him!”

“Vex! Put it away... right now. We can't afford to lose our heads... we need to calm down and focus.” Brynjolf turns to look at her, Andie, and Karliah.

“Do what he says, Vex. This isn't helpin' right now.” Delvin moves to calm her down.

“Fine. We do it your way. For now.”

“Delvin, Vex... watch the Flagon. If you see Mercer, come tell me right away.”

The pair nod and begin to head out. Karliah follows after them shortly, leaving Andie and Brynjolf alone in the vault. The ginger is currently running both hands through his hair, looking around in disbelief. His eyes eventually fall to Andie and his hands fall to his sides. “I swear to the gods, Andie, I didn’t know. He-he told us Karliah killed you.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” She moves forward to put a hand on his arm. “I’m here, I’m alive. It’s okay.”

“Fuck.” He looks down at her, his stone cold demeanour from before cracking. “And when he heard reports of you in Markarth, Mercer told us you had betrayed us and were working with Karliah. I didn’t want to believe him… I’m so sorry, lass.”

She gives him an understanding nod. “I forgive you. You were protecting your family-” “You’re my family, Andie. You were looking out for a group of people you just met, whereas Mercer has been stealing from us for years. I should have seen it, I should have…” His gaze falls to the ground between them. “I should have come lookin’ for you. Spoke to you.”

Andie nods again and then offers a solemn smile. “I can only forgive you so many times. Eventually you’re going to need to accept it.”

He offers a half-hearted chuckle. “Smart lass. That’s what I like about you.” He looks back up at her. “I want to help you track Mercer down, but before that I need to know everything you do.”

Andie lets out a large, long puff of air. “Woof. That’s a tall order.”

“Start where you can.”

“Mercer killed Gallus, not Karliah.”

“Aye. I feared that was the case. From that last entry in Gallus' diary, it looks like he was getting close to exposing Mercer to the Guild. Anything else?”

“Gallus, Karliah and Mercer were Nightingales.”

“What? Nightingales? But, I always assumed they were just a tale... a way to keep the young footpads in line. Was there anything else she told you?”

“Karliah was behind Goldenglow and Honningbrew.”

“Trying to make Mercer look bad in front of Maven, eh? Clever lass. Was there anything else?”

“No, that’s it really. Everything else is just speculation on my end.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I-I’ve heard of Nightingales before. From my Grandfather. I think maybe he used to be one.”

“Huh, well, maybe we’ll find out as we delve deeper. First though, I have an important task for you. I need you to break into Mercer's home and search for anything that could tell us where he's gone.”

“He has a house here?” “Aye. A gift from the Black-Briars after they kicked the previous family out... place called Riftweald Manor. He never stays there, just pays for the upkeep on it. Hired some lout by the name of Vald to guard the place.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“Be careful, lass. This is the last place in Skyrim I'd ever want to send you. Just find a way in, get the information and leave. And you have permission to kill anyone that stands in your way.”

“Understood. What’s my best way in?”

“Good question. I've only set foot inside a few times myself and that was in Mercer's company. If you can get past his trained watchdog, I think your best bet might be the ramp to the second floor balcony in his backyard.”

Andie crosses her arms. “I don't suppose the ramp is easy to access.”

“No. It's some sort of crazy contraption Mercer commissioned for quick escapes. I'd wager a well-placed shot at the ramp's mechanism would lower it in a hurry.”

“And the watchdog?”

“That'd be Vald. A real piece of work, that one. Mercer's holding something over his head, keeping him loyal. Talk to Vex. She used to know him very well... if you catch my meaning.”

Andie nods and begins looking around the vault. “Is there anything left?”

“Mercer took everything. Even all of our plans are gone.”

“Plans?”

“Before Mercer took over, Gallus started collecting every bit of material he could on locations the Guild could heist. Museums, keeps, estates... you name it. By the time Mercer took over the Guild we must have had a few dozen.”

“Do you know how he could have gotten in?”

“I don't have a clue. That door is impenetrable. Without two keys, it's impossible to open. I have a key, Delvin has a key, and Mercer has a key. That's it. There are no other copies. I get the feeling Karliah knows something though.”

Andie gives one final nod before turning to go. “Right. I’ll be back.”

“Wait, lass.” Brynjolf reaches out and grabs her arm. “Careful at Mercer’s place. I don’t want to lose anyone else to that madman.”

She gives him a soft smile and a nod. “I’m not planning on dying anytime soon.”

She slips out of his now loosened grip and makes her way to the surface.

Entering the Ragged Flagon, Andie makes her way over to Vex before leaving.

“Hey-”

“If I see Frey, I’ll pluck his eyes from his skull with my bare hands!”

Andie blinks twice before speaking again. “Anyway, I need to know about Vald.”

“That pig? Oh, I have info on him. More than you care to know.”

“Oh?” “The only thing Vald understands is gold. A man after my own heart.”

“So, I should buy him off?”

“Sure, but he'll ask for a whole lot. I mean, you are asking him to betray Mercer Frey. Your best bet would be to erase his debt with Maven Black-Briar. If you talk to her, she might be able to give you the details. Of course, you could just run him through and take what you need off of his corpse... I could care less.”

Andie nods slowly. “Yeah, I’ll just talk to Maven first real quick.”

“While you’re there help yourself to anything in Frey’s manor. I would.”

Andie goes to the Black-Briar Manor and asks to speak with Maven. Annoyed as usual, she agrees to speak with her anyway. On the subject of Vald, she speaks in an incredibly frustrated tone. Apparently he messed up a job for her recently and was paying it off by working for Mercer on her orders. If Andie can retrieve the enchanted pen he lost in the lake, she’d be willing to let his debt go. The things she’s willing to do to avoid killing someone…

Meanwhile while Mercer is who knows where, Andie spends the entirety of her afternoon and evening searching for this strongbox at the bottom of the lake. Once she finds it there’s a loud, underwater “fucking finally” before she picks the lock, grabs the pen, and swims to the shore. Upon returning to Maven, she presents the pen.

“I found the Quill of Gemen-Gemin-I found the fucking pen.”

“Really? I wrote that off a long time ago. Well, I suppose I need to fulfill my end of the bargain. Give this document to Vald. It frees him from the debt, but I never want to see him in Riften again.” She pulls a document from out of her desk and hands it to Andie. “Thanks. See you around.”

She rushes out of the manor and makes her way to the alley behind all the houses. Finding the gate to Mercer’s house she shouts to the man pacing in the backyard.

“Hey. Hey you. Fuckface. Get over here.”

“This is Mercer Frey's place and he don't like visitors. Now go away.” “I paid off your debt with Maven. Let me in, bitch.” She holds out the paper Maven had given her to prove his freedom. “I can't believe it! How did ya' talk her into this? Never mind, I don't care. I'm just glad I don't gotta' work for Maven anymore. Here, ya' did me a favor, I guess I owe you one.” He hands her a key and then steps away to stare at the paper. “Wh-you could just, fine.” She uses the key on the gate, swiftly pulls out her bow, shoots at the ramp’s mechanism, and then makes her way to the upper floor of Mercer’s home.

Once inside, she could hear voices. Mercenaries. Great. Pulling her bow back out, she slinks down to the floor, keeping to the shadows and dimly lit areas. One by one she strikes them in the head, making her way through his house. Eventually she spots a strange looking wardrobe that sits slightly above the floor - barely noticeable to the naked eye. She opens it up and pushes out the false backing, finding the secret passage down. Despite that however, she triggers every trap he had set down there. Unsure how she was still alive, she eventually finds his secret planning room and steals Everything. His gems, the Chillrend sword that was locked away, even a random pair of boots in one corner. Of most interest, however, is a map on the desk, and a bust of the Grey Fox. Another gift for Delvin. Boy was getting spoiled.

Bag and arms full, she continued down the tunnel, only to find it connected to the Ratway catacombs. Quickly finding the door to the Ragged Flagon, she moves to regroup with the guild.

She finds Brynjolf, Delvin, Vex, and Karliah all seated at a table. She interrupts their conversation by setting the bust on the table and then pulling out the cube she stole from the wizard. “Happy Birthday, Delvin.”

The man’s face lights up. “Well I’ll be. These will go nicely in our little collection - the one thing Mercer decided to leave. Probably because we don’t keep it in the vault.” He was, of course, referring to the shelves behind Mercer’s desk. Every time she got something interesting for him, he’d put it up on the shelves to display to the whole guild.

“You find anything, lass?” Brynjolf interrupts. “We've scoured the town and I've spoken to every contact we have left. No sign of Mercer.”

“He wasn’t there, but I did find this.” She pulls out the map and plans she found. Brynjolf takes it and immediately begins looking over it.

“Shor's beard! He's going after the Eyes of the Falmer? That was Gallus's pet project. If he gets his hands on them, you can be certain he'll be gone for good and set up for life.”

“Then we need to stop him.”

“Agreed. He's taken everything the Guild has left, and to go after one of the last greatest heists is just an insult. I've spoken to Karliah, and made amends for how the Guild's treated her. Now she wishes to speak with both of us.” Andie looks over at the Dunmer.

“Somewhere more private.” Karliah stands up and walks over to one of the corners of the tavern. The pair follow, both crossing their arms as they approach.

“Brynjolf, the time has come to decide Mercer's fate. Until a new Guild Master is chosen, the decision falls to you.”

“Aye, lass... and I've come to a decision. Mercer Frey tried to kill both of you, he betrayed the Guild, murdered Gallus and made us question our future. He needs to die.”

“We have to be very careful, Brynjolf. Mercer is a Nightingale, an Agent of Nocturnal.”

“Then it's all true... everything I heard in the stories. The Nightingales, their allegiance to Nocturnal and the Twilight Sepulcher.”

“Yes. That's why we need to prepare ourselves and meet Mercer on equal footing. Just outside of Riften, beyond the Southeast Gate is a small path cut up the mountainside. At the end of that path is a clearing and an old standing stone. I'd ask you both meet me there.” Andie and Brynjolf look at each other and then at Karliah, giving her a nod. “Good. I’ll see you there.”

As she leaves, Andie watches her but speaks to Brynjolf. “Since when do you speak Falmer?”

He looks down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“You read his journal with no issue.”

He gives her a smirk and looks away. “I have my secrets.”

She looks up at him and squints. “Uh huh. Well, we should get going.”

“Aye. I’ll be there shortly. Just need to talk to the others briefly.”

Arriving at the standing stone outside of Riften, Andie gives Karliah a wave as she approaches.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

A few moments later, Brynjolf arrives and takes his place next to Andie. Exchanging a glance, with him first, Andie then looks to Karliah. “What's the significance of this place?”

“This is the headquarters of the Nightingales, cut into the mountainside by the first of our kind. We've come to seek the edge we need to defeat Mercer Frey.”

“What kind of edge?” Brynjolf raises an eyebrow.

“If you'll follow me, I'll try to explain on the way” She motions to a set of doors behind the stone that Andie swears wasn’t there a moment ago. Following Karliah in, Andie thinks for a moment before speaking again.

“Tell me about the Nightingales.”

Karliah speaks as they head down a dirt tunnel. “Gallus, Mercer Frey and I were once members of what's known as the Nightingale Trinity. The Trinity disbanded twenty-five years ago when Mercer Frey betrayed us by slaying Gallus and dumping his body in the ruins of Snow Veil Sanctum.”

“Were they always a part of the Thieves Guild?”

“Indirectly. The Trinity is usually selected from the ranks of the Guild although its existence is a closely-guarded secret.”

“What is their purpose? Sorry, I just… I have a lot of questions.”

“It’s alright. The Nightingales protect the temple of Nocturnal, a place known as the Twilight Sepulcher.” “Who exactly is Nocturnal? I’ve heard the name before, but never with context.”

“She's the mistress of night and darkness and the patron of every thief in Tamriel. She isn't one for worship and reverence. There are no priests and no sermons, no services and no alms. She influences our luck and in return demands payment.”

“Like a guild contract?”

“You're closer to understanding than you realize. The only difference is she doesn't demand payment in the traditional sense and sometimes the cost can be quite high. Whether you know it or not, Nocturnal dictates how well we perform as rogues.”

“But I have my own skills.”

“Again, you have to think differently. Haven't you ever noticed how our luck behaves? Like a novice picking an impossible lock or a blind man suddenly turning to face you as you reach for his pocket? It's through these subtle means that Nocturnal influences us.” Andie is silent, contemplating the words, thinking of all the times she’s survived traps or blows when she shouldn’t have.

“Nocturnal's whim is the greatest mystery to everyone. There have been volumes written on the subject. Does she expect payment when we die? When we suffer does she revel in our misery? No one knows. The return certainly seems worth the risk though.”

After a few moments she speaks again. “What happened to wanting Mercer alive?”

“From the moment you were struck with my poisoned arrow at Snow Veil Sanctum, my path changed its course. Perhaps I couldn't bring Mercer back alive, but together, we were able to clear my name and to put Gallus's memory to rest. I'd always intended Mercer's fate to ultimately be decided by the Guild, and it seems they've spoken.”

“Karliah-” Andie stops her by grabbing her arm. “-Am I to become a Nightingale?”

“It’s my hope that you will.”

As they reach the end of the tunnel into an open space, Brynjolf lets out a low whistle.

“So, this is Nightingale Hall. I heard about this place when I joined the Guild, but I never believed it existed.”

“The assumption that the Nightingales were just a myth was seeded within the Guild on purpose. It helped avert attention from our true nature. What's wrong, Brynjolf? I can almost hear your brow furrowing.”

“I'm trying to understand why I'm here, lass. I'm no priest, and I'm certainly not religious. Why pick me?”

“This isn't about religion, Brynjolf... This is nothing more than a business transaction between yourself and Nocturnal. Consider this an extremely risky job but with a massive potential for profit, and you'll do fine. Now, this is Nightingale Hall. You're the first of the uninitiated to set foot inside in over a century. Now, if you'll both proceed to the armory to don your Nightingale Armor, we can begin the Oath.”

She motions ahead to a platform with three pedestals, each with the symbol of Nocturnal. Andie goes first, standing in front of one of the pedestals. In a flash of smoke, her clothes change to one of grey, tightly fit leather. In a similar flash, both Karliah and Brynjolf’s clothes change as well. Andie gives a slow nod, though her expression is hidden behind the mask

“Damn. We look good.”

“Okay, lass. We've got these getups on... now what?”

“Beyond this gate is the first step in becoming a Nightingale.” She motions to a gate on the other end of the armory.

“Woah there, lass. I appreciate the armor, but becoming a Nightingale? That was never discussed.”

“To hold any hope of defeating Mercer, we must have Nocturnal at our backs. If she's to accept you as one of her own, an arrangement must be struck.”

“What sort of arrangement? I need to know the terms.”

“The terms are quite simple, Brynjolf. Nocturnal will allow you to become a Nightingale and use your abilities for whatever you wish. And in return, both in life and in death, you must serve as a guardian of the Twilight Sepulcher.”

“Aye, there's always a catch. But at this point, I suppose there isn't much to lose. If it means the end of Mercer Frey, you can count me in.”

“What about you? Are you ready to transact the Oath with Nocturnal?” She turns to Andie. “I'm not sure I understand the terms.”

“By transacting the Oath with Nocturnal, you're entering into a business deal. You'll be provided all of the power and knowledge befitting a Nightingale. You're free to use those powers as you see fit to further your own goals or the goals of the Thieves Guild.”

“And in return?”

“In return, you'll be required to defend the Twilight Sepulcher and everything within when the need arises. More importantly, upon your death, your spirit will be bound to the Twilight Sepulcher as one of its guardians.”

“And there’s no going back either, is there?”

“Once the Oath has been struck, the terms are binding. Knowing this, are you ready to undergo the ceremony?”

Andie takes a deep breath, looking down at the armor and then to Brynjolf, and finally back to Karliah. “I’m ready.”

“Then let’s continue.” She leads them to the gate which she opens by the pulling of a chain and then leads them into an inner sanctum with three platforms. “Stand on one of the platforms.”

Andie moves to the left-most one, while Karliah takes the middle, and Brynjolf the right.

With a deep breath, Karliah raises her arms in the air and begins to speak to the platform all three of theirs was connected to.

“I call upon you, Lady Nocturnal. Queen of Murk and Empress of Shadow… hear my voice!”

A swirl of energy filled the space in the chamber before them as an unfamiliar voice speaks out.

“Ah, Karliah. I was wondering when I’d hear from you again. Lose something did we?”

“My Lady, I’ve come to throw myself upon your mercy and accept responsibility for my failure.”

“You’re already mine, Karliah. Your terms were struck long ago. What could you possibly offer me now?” The voice was cold, like a scolding mother.

“I have two others that wish to transact the Oath; to serve you both in life and in death.”

“You surprise me, Karliah. This offer is definitely weighted in my favor.”

“My appetite for Mercer’s demise exceeds my craving for wealth, Your Grace.”

“Revenge, how interesting…Very well, the conditions are acceptable. Continue.”

“Lady Nocturnal, we accept your terms. We dedicate ourselves to you as both your avengers and your sentinels. We will honor our agreement in this life and the next until your conditions have been met.”

“Very well. I name your initiates Nightingale and restore your status to the same, Karliah. And in the future, I’d suggest you frain from disappointing me again.” With that the energy dissipates and Karliah begins to step off her platform towards the center of the chamber where the voice came from.

“Now that you've transacted the Oath, it's time to reveal the final piece of the puzzle to you; Mercer's true crime.”

Andie stands there dazed for a moment before snapping out of it and walking down from her platform. “There’s more?”

“Mercer was able to unlock the Guild's vault without two keys because of what he stole from the Twilight Sepulcher... the Skeleton Key. By doing this, he's compromised our ties to Nocturnal and in essence, caused our luck to run dry.”

“So the Key unlocks any door? That explains…” “Well, yes. But the Key isn't only restricted to physical barriers. All of us possess untapped abilities; the potential to wield great power, securely sealed within our minds. Once you realize the Key can access these traits, the potential becomes limitless.”

Andie is quiet for a moment, looking at Brynjolf, but unable to read his face in their new uniforms. She looks back to Karliah. “Sounds like no one should possess it.”

“Good, then you understand why this is about more than just Mercer's lust for power."

"If the Key isn't returned to its lock in the Twilight Sepulcher, things will never be the same for the Guild. As time passed, our luck would diminish to the point of non-existence. And whether you know it or not, our uncanny luck defines our trade.”

“Let’s go then. It’s time to teach Mercer a lesson.”

“Before we depart, Brynjolf has some business to discuss. I suggest you listen to him. I’ll be waiting out front.” Karliah continues on ahead as Andie turns to face Brynjolf.

“What’s up?”

“There's one last piece of business we need to settle before we go after Mercer... the leadership of the Guild.”

“Okay…?”

“Karliah and I had a long discussion while you were at Mercer’s house. Thanks to your efforts, Mercer's treachery has been exposed. After we deal with him, all that remains is restoring the Guild to its full strength. As a result, we both feel that you have the potential of replacing Mercer as leader of the Thieves Guild.”

“Me? What about you?”

He gives a long, tired sigh. “I've been at this game a long time, my friend. A long time. I've stolen trinkets from nobles and framed priests for murder. I'm good at what I do, maybe even one of the best. But it's all I know. I've never been one to lead. Never desired it, never cared for it. Don't want it.”

Andie is quiet for a moment. “But...I don’t…”

“Look. Everyone in the Guild admires what you've done. Maybe they won't come out and simply tell you, but I promise you it's true. And now they know Mercer never genuinely cared about the Guild. He lacked the loyalty you obviously possess. I can't think of anyone better.” He placed a hand on his shoulder, and while she can’t see it, she knows he’s smiling beneath the mask.

“Alright. I accept.”

“Then it's decided. When this is all over and Delvin's contacts assure me that we've regained our footing in Skyrim, we'll handle the details. Until then, we have quite the task ahead.”

“Indeed we do. We should get going.”

“I've been pouring over the plans you brought us, and I'm convinced the Eyes of the Falmer are in the dwarven ruins at Irkngthand. Karliah and I will meet you there. Prepare yourself, lass. This will be a fight to remember.” He lowers his hand from her shoulder and motions for her to continue after Karliah.

Andie is quiet for most of the way out of the Hall, but as they reach the end she stops and turns to look at him once more. “So...Nightingales.” “Aye, and some of what Karliah said is starting to make sense. Mercer may have damaged our reputation and raided our coffers, but this goes well beyond even his twisted form of larceny. Old Delvin kept calling it a curse and we all laughed at him. Looks like the joke's on us.”

“Do you think we stand a chance against Mercer?”

“If you would've asked me that yesterday, I'd have said no. But now I think our chances have improved. Look, call me crazy if you like, but I trust Karliah. I don't think she'd lead us down a suicidal path. Besides, I'd rather die with some of Mercer's blood on my blade than spend the rest of my life regretting that I ran the other way.” And with that the pair exit the Hall.

Outside Karliah waits for them, her mask currently pulled down. “Shall we get going then?”

“Sure...but…”

“Yes?”

Andie shrugs. “I don’t feel stronger.”

“With the Skeleton Key missing from the Twilight Sepulcher, I'm afraid Mercer's seen to it that none of us can benefit from Nocturnal's gifts.”

“But she spoke to us.”

“You merely transacted the Oath; signed the unwritten contract with Nocturnal. In order for us to receive our abilities... our end of the bargain, I'm afraid the Key must be returned.”

“Then Nocturnal's angry at us?”

“If Nocturnal was truly displeased with me... with any of us, she wouldn't have answered my call. I have no doubt that we still hold her favor and I believe it gives us enough of an edge to defeat Mercer Frey.”

“I see… and… May I ever come back here?”

“Yes. Now that you're a Nightingale, you may consider this your home. You'll find that this place offers many things that will help you in your endeavors as well as a wealth of information for you to learn. Once the Skeleton Key has been restored to the Twilight Sepulcher, I'll make this place my home as well.” She offers Andie a short smile before turning to walk back to Riften.

Andie looks once more to Brynjolf before sighing and taking a step forward. Neither of them really planned for all of this to happen, yet here they were. Who would have thought that their first real mission together would involve killing their former Guild Master...

#company in shadows #skyrim fanfic #Andie Blackthorn #brynjolf #nightingale #Karliah #i love this armor so much you guys #its so good

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ghostking-wenning · 4 years

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Radishes, Chapter 1

I know I said I was gonna write more vignettes at Yiling, but... inspiration struck!

This is the first chapter of my farmer’s market AU, I hope you enjoy!

800 words, Rated G, NingXian, modern au, farmer’s market au, meet cute, etc.

It was mid-afternoon, on a Sunday in spring and the sun had finally burned away the last of the drizzly mist that had hung around all morning. The sky was a brilliant azure blue, shining over the market plaza. Some of the other merchants were beginning to pack up for the day, now that the foot traffic was dying down. Some, like Wen Qionglin, still had things to sell. In his case, radishes. A truly absurd number of them; it seemed like no matter how many he sold, the pile on the table wasn’t getting any smaller. He was pretty sure he hadn’t planted this many, so where had they all come from? Was this a prank? Did some kind of radish fairy turn up and cast a spell on his fields? Maybe mother nature was just really feeling it this year. The world may never know. He sighed, resigned to his fate.

Qionglin was so caught up in his woeful, radish-based musings he almost didn't notice he had a customer. He bolted to his feet, toppling his flimsy folding chair.

"H-hello! What can I get for you?" Slapping on his best customer-service smile, he greeted a young man dressed in red and black, while hastily righting the chair. The customer jolted and dropped the radish he’d been holding.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, I didn't even see you back there." He swooped down to pick up the fallen radish, now badly bruised and embedded with grit.

"I'll, uh, pay for this one too, my bad." He smiled apologetically as he rose to his full height, looking back at Qionglin. His eyes were striking; silver, bright and clear. Long, black bangs framed his face, unruly curls sticking up in all directions. A silver stud decorated his lower lip. Qionglin realized he'd been staring a little too long, and dropped his gaze to the ground. He noticed the young man’s stylish black boots.

"It's fine! S-sorry I frightened you! Don't… worry about the radish. We have so many, they just won't stop growing! I don’t even remember planting most of them. Must’ve been the radish fairy--.” Qionglin clamped his mouth shut, instantly flooded with regret. Oh my god, why did I say that? Can I at least pretend to be normal for a second? He willed himself to look back at his customer, to be a professional, to get rid of some of these damn radishes. The young man was grinning now, a dazzling smile that made Qionglin’s cheeks burn. Great, he’s making fun of me now.

"I'll just… take that." Qionglin reached for the radish.

The young man looked at him up and down, and instead grasped Qionglin's hand in his own and shook it. His hand was warm, fingers lightly callused and rough. On his index finger, he wore a heavy silver ring shaped like a skull, and a faded bracelet woven from threads of red, violet and lavender was tied snugly around his wrist.

"It's nice to meet you, Farmer Wen! I'm Wei Wuxian. Are you new? I don't think I've seen you at this market before." He handed over the radish and turned back to the table to pick a new one.

Qionglin blinked a few times. For a moment he wondered how this stranger knew his name before he realized it was printed on his shirt, and on the sign, and on all the boxes in the stall. Right. Duh. He rolled his eyes at himself while Wei Wuxian’s back was turned.

"Oh, um, I guess? My family has been s-selling at this market for a long time, but I just took over running the stall this s-season." He stepped back behind his counter, tossing the radish in the scrap bin.

"This is only my third or fourth week, s-so I guess you just missed me before. I don't blame you though, I don't, uh… stand out much. Anyway! It's nice to meet you too. My name is Qionglin. Uh, Wen Qionglin." He appended, pointlessly.

Thankfully, this Wei Wuxian didn't call him on it. He returned to the counter with his produce, and watched as Qionglin weighed and wrapped it.

"Qionglin, huh?" He said thoughtfully, like he was testing it out. "I'll just have to keep a sharper eye out for you, then. I'd hate to miss you again next week."

Qionglin didn’t have a response to that. He opted for:

"Um. That'll be 34 yuan please…!" Real slick, he chided himself. Great job. Master of conversation.

Wei Wuxian flashed that grin again as he reached for his wallet. Qionglin could feel the blush crawling up his neck, and kept his eyes down as he finished the transaction.

"Heh, well... Have a good one, Wen Qionglin!" He winked and turned around, his ponytail swishing behind him. "See you!"

"S-see you…!" Qionglin echoed weakly. Alone with the radishes again, he sighed. Next week…

#fic #mdzs fanfiction #ningxian #modern au #farmer's market au #mai luobo!#meet cute

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fireintheforest · 4 years

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Behind the Blue, chapter 19

After 6 days of holding doors for people perfectly capable of opening their own fucking doors, Toivon left the Hawkcroft estate through the back, out by the servants’ gate and walked to Evermor itself, ongoing until he reached the luxurious Marigold, where he met with Saufinril and both went to Saufinril’s room.

“So how exactly did you afford this room?” Toivon asked, turning to the Altmer as Saufinril closed the door behind them.

“One just sold some old knick-knacks one had.” Saufinril replied casually as he went to sit at the bed. Toivon arched his eyebrows.

“You sold your stuff?” he asked. Saufinril shrugged,

“One is going to get paid 4000 Septims anyway, right?”

“Well yeah but…” Toivon exhaled. This was an unexpected level of commitment to the job.

“…did one do wrong?”

“No. If anything, this is perfect in case someone comes snooping. I just…” Toivon looked around at the navy, lime green, gray and gold color palette, “didn’t think you’d spend this much money on an ugly room.”

“What!”

“You had to sell your things for a small room? You got robbed.”

“Please. It’s the right size for someone that doesn’t spend too much time in it.”

“Three colors? I get it. Four? Kind of too much.”

“No, you’re just boring. You can do four colors no problem.”

“The curtains are hideous and the color combination is nuts.”

“The curtains are fine. And one likes the colors.”

“Also the wood doesn’t match, it’s all dry and odd shades of the same color.”

“It matches your skin.”

Toivon looked at Saufinril with mouth agape. Saufinril arched his eyebrows defiantly.

“That’s cold.” Toivon said, “Anyway, have you found anything?”

“Here and there, but nothing conclusive.” Saufinril admitted. Toivon sat next to him at the bed.

“Let’s,” Toivon rubbed his face, “let’s go to the base. From the beginning. Please.”

Saufinril nodded and said, “Hawkcroft. Emmanuel Hawkcroft.”

“Yes.”

“Self-made man by piracy and backstabbing his mentor’s family.”

“Right.”

“Has two offsprings: Avelle and Louis. So probably married but one never saw a Mrs. Hawkcroft.”

“The client told me he married their cousin, Erin, I think? Eline, Edwen, I don’t remember.”

Saufinril frowned, recalling the banquet, the women he met, the stress of stealing the key, the garden interlude with Armellon, and said, “One was not introduced to any Erin or Mrs. Hawkcroft at the party. She would’ve been there, it was her daughter’s birthday.”

“Eh, maybe she divorced him or passed. So, married to Erin.”

“Wait, we don’t know her name. Why are we calling her Erin?”

“What are you going to call her?”

“Mrs. Hawkcroft?”

“Fine. Hawkcroft, backstabber and fraud, has two children with the missing missus. Filthy rich.” Now Toivon stood up and paced on the space between the desk and the bed where Saufinril sat at.

“He’s got his lawyer and medic well in his life, if they’re going to his daughter’s birthday and breakfasts and other events.” Saufinril commented

“Could you say they’re his friends?” Toivon asked

“Of what one has seen this week? Yes.” Saufinril replied

“Hahah that’s sad. Anyhow, he got La Zadine as an engagement gift to his wife be able to ask for her hand in marriage.”

“That’s highly sentimental.” Saufinril pondered out loud, “If he still has it and she didn’t give it away to Avelle or Louis, maybe it’s because it meant a lot to them, and if anybody knows it was stolen or someone tried to steal it it could raise alarm in the family and shame to Hawkcroft.”

“So the guards and the patrolling are all Hawkcroft’s ideas to keep the kids from finding out their family heirloom is in trouble?”

“Sort of. Also, sentimentality for his wife.”

“Okay, fair. The old man misses his wife. Clearly our client wants it as revenge for what he did to their family.” Toivon stopped his pacing, “Maybe it’s the same thing. We need to find out if Hawkcroft has enemies, people who want to get to him and that know of La Zadine.”

“We got our client, who knows of it because their cousin married him.” Saufinril nodded, thinking, “So this was within the family, not everyone knows of La Zadine.”

“No, everyone knows of La Zadine, that’s the problem. It’s a famous sapphire here.”

“But then he’d constantly be robbed for it, no? How can he live in such calm and bliss when everyone knows he’s the owner of a famous jewel?”

“Beats me.”

“Huh. Anyways, we need to know enemies. One can find that out.”

“How?”

“Armellon is his friend, isn’t it?” Saufinril asked, “One thinks one can get him to talk to the courtesan.”

“Okay, right. In the meantime, I can ask Sorcise about why they’re not getting robbed every night of their lives, and of any other enemies Hawkcroft could have. She has to know something. This whole thing is starting to sound like a-” Toivon stopped short, his gaze going past Saufinril and to the wall on the left of the room’s bed. Saufinril turned his head and realized what Toivon was looking at.

“What’s that?” Toivon asked, motioning to the paper that was stuck on that part of the wall as he walked to it. Saufinril stood up and followed him, his mind racing on the explanation.

“Oh, that-that’s um, do you remember when we came here, there was a victim of a serial killer?” he asked

“The one that killed Altmer?” Toivon blurted out, still looking at the names.

“…yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Yes. That one.” Saufinril cleared his throat, “It, well one began to investigate around a week ago. So far there’s already been eight victims.”

“Wait, eight? And they’re these?” Toivon asked, turning to Saufinril, who nodded.

“That’s the names of the ones that have been identified so far.”

“How do you get this information?”

“One told the mortician’s assistant that one was studying mortuary paths in the Isles and that one’s father was missing, so when victims are announced she lets one come in to ‘identify’ him.”

“…that’s morbid. And brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

Toivon looked at the list again, as if analyzing it closely. Saufinril cleared his throat and said, “One promises, this will not distract one from the job. It’s just,” Saufinril looked at the list, as a pair of young blue eyes pierced themselves in his memory again. And he realized he didn’t know how to express all the anger, grief for a stranger and yes, even fear, that the message of hate had left him. All he managed to say in a low volume was, “they were Altmer.”

Toivon didn’t look at Saufinril once, his gaze still on the writing in front of him. Not an inch moved.

Shit, Toivon thought, Saufinril had rented a room in this fancy hotel, hadn’t he?

“What do we got?” he asked, turning to Saufinril. Saufinril’s gaze quickly went to the paper and back to Toivon.

“What?” he asked, and could almost feel Lillandril’s slap on the back of his head for a half-assed formulated, obvious question, for staring and maybe also for letting his mouth hang agape.

“What, I can’t help you catch some serial killer?” Toivon asked

“No, no, just…one wasn’t expecting…nevermind.” Saufinril blinked as he cleared his throat, “So, the victims were only identified this week, at least by the last time that one went to the morgue which was two or three days ago. So!” the Altmer stood next to the Dunmer.

“So this is they.”

“In order, yes.” Saufinril pointed to the name on the topmost of the list, “Remember that Sorcise told us the first one was a girl everyone thought was the victim of a jealous lover? Termaena of Evermor.” Saufinril pointed to the next column, “the mortician told one that she was young but couldn’t specify age because well, men don’t know anything of mer.”

“True.”

“But she was young. And they mentioned a jealous lover so she probably had suitors, a boyfriend, fiancé, you know?”

“Like, she was in a courting age?”

“Yes.” Saufinril passed his gold finger to the next cell of the chart he’d made, “The mortician said she was by the bank of the river, strangled and with a big cut on her head.” Toivon winced at that, but Saufinril continued, “Then the next victim was Coretar of Congrad Wastes, she couldn’t tell one his age either, but he was found on fields with plenty of stabbings and two hits on his head.”

Toivon remained silent as Saufinril numbered the rest: Ironyl of Lillandril, body was floating on a canal, skull bashed, missing for 24 hours, only recognized because of his clothes and marriage ring; Miirie of Evermor (Termaena’s mother), missing for 24 hours, body was found near where Termaena’s had been, slit throat, almost decapitated, a hit on her head; Horace of Levgny, had actually been found alive and unconscious near the entrance to the city, bleeding from a head wound, but died in the Healer’s Temple an hour later; Estoril Thromil (from the Thromils, Saufinril said with a sort of scandal in his tone even if Toivon could, really, not give a fuck), was missing for 19 hours, then was found with multiple stabbings and his throat slit; and the last one, Merveril Kaelock of Sea Keep.

“He was…” Toivon noticed Saufinril said this one in a really soft tone, very unlike the neutral one he’d been using with the rest of the deceased, “very young. Maybe in his twenties or thirties. The mortician said he’d been stabbed repeatedly, strangled, had his throat slit and hit on his head.”

“There’s kind of a theme going on here, isn’t it? With hitting on the head and so many of these bodies were found on or near the river.” Toivon mused

“One thinks whoever is killing, has easy access to the river or at least the pier to dump the bodies. Maybe they even own a boat.”

“Great! That narrows it down to anyone that lives or works by the piers. So, a lot of people.”

A nibble of annoyance bit the back of Saufinril’s neck at Toivon’s negative comment, but he couldn’t deny that it was true: fishermen, brothels, merchants, captains, sailors, anyone and everyone that frequented the river could be a suspect.

Toivon, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes at the list, and said, “…it was by surprise.”

“What was?” Saufinril asked

“The hit on the head. Listen, if I were to like,” he looked around and grabbed the fruit bowl from the bedside table and turned to Saufinril as he tossed a plum at him. Saufinril put up his hands as a reflex, but despite it the plum hit his forehead.

“What was that for?” Toivon asked in disbelief

“One?? You threw the plum!” Saufinril asked, in as much disbelief, “Why are you asking one what was that for? One should be asking that!”

“You didn’t stop it!”

“Well you stop it, then!” Saufinril replied as he took the plum and threw it back, harder than Toivon had tossed it. Toivon let out a squeak but slapped the plum back at Saufinril, who moved aside and grabbed a pillow, then threw it at Toivon. Toivon retaliated by grabbing an orange and throwing it at Saufinril. Saufinril knelt to grab the orange but got attacked by another plum, so he threw both at Toivon. When Toivon attacked again, though, this time Saufinril lifted a hand, let the energy rush down his arm like a lightning, and in no time a purple shield of strong magic energy emerged from his palm, covering him almost entirely.

“Hah!” Toivon said, holding back the apple missile that was about to be thrown, “I knew it!”

“What are you talking about?” Saufinril said, still clutching an orange

“This!” Toivon motioned at the shield, “You make a shield!”

“Of course one does! what do you think one is? A goblin?”

“Put your shield down so I can explain-”

“No.” Saufinril eyed the bowl of fruits, “You put the bowl down.”

“I’m not going to throw anything at you.” Toivon protested

“Lies.”

“Alright, fine.” Toivon put the apple in the bowl and set the bowl on the table where it had been. Only then did Saufinril put away the shield.

“Why did you even start that?” Saufinril asked, grabbing the pillow he’d thrown and fluffing it while Toivon hunted around for the rogue plums and orange.

“I thought you’d pop the shield before!” Toivon said, “I thought it’d be, I don’t know, immediate! Like you’d do it at first.”

“Well, usually if this were a serious fight, one would!”

“Right. My point exactly. All jokes aside,” Toivon said, holding the fruits and taking them back to the bowl, “if they knew they were being attacked, they would’ve used magic to defend themselves.” He turned to Saufinril, who nodded, understanding dawning on him.

“The killer surprised them, then. He knew they could defend themselves with magic so they decided to not take a chance.” Saufinril hesitated, “But these are Bretons. They’re well adept with magic too. Granted, not as easily or naturally as Altmer, but still better than other races.”

“Then it’s someone that’s not that good at magic. Shit,” Toivon turned back to the chart, “bad at magic and prejudiced against the Altmer? And has access to the river without being seen? Kind of sounds like a profile.”

“Kind of.” Saufinril put the pillow on the bed, looking at the chart too, “one feels like we’re finally seeing a bigger picture.”

“Right?” Toivon said, turning to look at Saufinril, “you just feel like it’s clearer and there’s a path you can go down to.”

“Right!” Saufinril replied, looking at Toivon too. And for a second, he was back in Elden Root. He was back at the Den, at night, some years ago, when some band was playing and he’d broken up with his boyfriend at the time and returned from a disastrous visit to the Isles mere weeks ago. While serving a table with some men, Bosmer and two Dunmer, he’d lingered in the space, eavesdropping, and only realized he’d spaced out when he turned to one of the Dunmer, Toivon, and he was looking at him directly. Right now, for that second, it was that moment of that night again, and Toivon’s gaze felt as strong as the first time, and his heart shook just like that moment, eight years ago.

Then Toivon looked away. And he was back at the present, at this Evermor and the heist and the killings. And the slowly setting sun. Toivon, too, turned to the window.

“The afternoon passed really fast.” He commented.

“Want one to walk you to the front door?” Saufinril asked, unsure really why he had done so.

“Oh, what a gentlemer.” Toivon commented, amused.

“It’s the least one can do after you spent all afternoon in one’s bedchamber.” Saufinril replied, jesting back as they walked to the door.

“Will you pay a carriage back to my manor?”

“No.”

“Not as gentlemer-y as I thought, then.” Toivon joked, opening the door and walking out. Saufinril was about to follow when he looked back and took a look at the room in its entirety. He frowned.

“The room colors look okay.” He muttered to himself, before leaving.

#btb #behind the blue #this chpater upload is a JOKE brought to you by 'Tumblr pc won't let me log in despite entering the correct password MULTIPLE FUCKING TIMES'#and I have a dr's appointment in a bit so I can't exactly sit down and see what's up with this one #so #here you go #I'll edit the upload later #EDIT: THERE #MADE IT #woo!

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amaranthineoni · 4 years

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|| @nacphilim || Pirates & Mutineers || Starter ||

Tomoe spots the incoming ship when it is still more than 15 kilometers away, despite the thick evening fog setting low over the water after the days grueling heat. They have no lights aboard their deck, no lantern in the nest for signalling nearby ships. She sounds the warning bell, the loud clanging waking her crew and most certainly carrying over the waves to the oncoming ship.

The HMS Archon is beautiful and reliant, unsinkable - the East India Company claims. She carries valuable wares occasionally. Fine furniture, jewelry, blue dyed potteries, and luxurious silk fabrics. More often, however, she carries military goods. Canons, gunpowder, uniforms.

HMS Archon is a valuable commodity for pirates. And though she is large, and perfect for long distance trips, she is not a Navy vessel. The ships primary directive should pirates attempt an attack is to flee, full sails in the direction of the nearest navel outpost.

But she is a heavy thing, burdened by the weight of her cargo and the small pirate vessel is not. It catches them less then an hour later. Tomoe’s crew is ill prepared for a raid. Any combat training they have comes from the pit fights they hold below deck after the Captain and his offices have retired for the night. Any strength they have comes only from hoisting sails and cranking the anchor. None of them carry more than a knife on them.

They try to make a stand anyway. It’s a slaughter. Tomoe hits the ground hard on the initial assault; one of them nails her in the back of the head with a plank and she drops like she’s dead. When she blinks back to consciousness, head pounding and sluggish and body battered like she’d been trampled in the chaos, her captain is dead.

His head a greying expression of horror - tears on his cheeks. Coward. Of course he begged in the end.

His mangled body is pushed overboard to chum the waters and she is hauled up along any of the other survivors. They are bound, their hands tied painfully behind their backs. Tomoe curses when one of them pulls at the collar of her shirt - for a moment she is more terrified that his eyes will tip away from her blood smudged face to peer down and spot the bandages disguising her figure and that her fate will be worse than that of shark food. He doesn’t and she’s shoved against the main mast with the rest of her men.

It takes the pirates hours to ransack the ship. Tomoe spends it woozy, blood seeping warm down her neck, and slumped against the back of the boy tied in front of her. He has been a kitchen scully, she thinks.

“What are they going to do with us?” He whispers to her, panicked and small.

No one replies. The answer is obvious. Tomoe tries to think of a way out anyway.

Tomoe glares at the man she presumes is the captain from her place tied against the mast. He’s tall and blonde with a cruel sharp grin and seems completely unbothered by the spray of arterial blood that stains his white shirt. Tomoe hates him immediately and she will continue to do so until she dies. Smug, heartless pirate.

She snarls when one of the pirates at her side jostles her, shoving her forward in the line and one step closer to her untimely death. She earns a backhand across the face for ehr insolence and it sends her reeling into another pirate who forces her back into line.

When the sun came up the pirates turned to the crew for entertainment. Every single person who didn’t die in the raid was slowly but surely being forced over the deck railing and into the waters below. Hands tied and no dry land for kilometers in any direction. If they didn’t drown the sharks would get them.

Tomoe is near the end of the line - not the back, but ever step further from the plank and the short plunge off the end of it gave her another minute to try to think of a way out.

She heard stories that pirates occasionally take valuable prisoners into their crews. Chefs and navigators and the like. Tomoe doesn’t know shit about cooking or navigating but she’s clever. She could lie and figure it out. She does know some stuff about first aid - that’s always useful on a ship…

That hope dies when the doctor is shoved over the edge despite his pleas. The crowd roars in approval.

She could claim she knows how to read the coded notes and ledgers the Captain and merchants write in. But she can’t read - that lie wouldn’t hold up and she imagines the cruelty she’d be subject to would be much worse than a swift drowing.

The wracks her brains for anything in the pirates code that could save her, thinks of any valuables on the ship they may not have found. Anything of value she can trade for her life.

She doesn’t know. She’s scared.

The pirates aren’t here to take any survivors. It’s clear to her that it’s a game to them. THey offer one boy the chance to fight for his survival - the little kitchen scully. They offer him a sword and everything. His opponent is twice his height and three times his width. The boy’s dead before they toss him overboard - his skull bashed in so thoroughly that she can’t recognise his face anymore.

The pirates cheer and Tomoe wants to vomit.

Finally it’s her turn.

She stumbles, panicked when she is pushed into the ring of bodies that forms the circle around the back of the plank. Her turn. She tries to straighten and someone forces her into a deep bow before the Captain.

Her head snaps up to greet the Captain. “Fuck you straight to hell.”

Because Tomoe has never been the kind to know when to shut the hell up. And if she’s gonna die she’s going to go out pissing someone else off. “These are Aizen’s waters, you really think he’s just gonna let you sail through here now that you’ve gone and attacked a ship that’s rightfully his prey huh? Fuck you’re as stupid as you look.”

#nacphilim #mutiny au #AAhhhh sorry its so long theres a lot of exposition and just stuff

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johnismyreason · 6 years

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Episode 4: « I force the entrance »

gif credit: @peakystitches

PREVIOUS EPISODES

The next day, as expected, the Solomons and the Shelbys met at the same café the day before, at the same time. They had coffee and breakfast and set off.

"I have several places to show you, in several different parts of Paris, all different. What kind of customers do you want ?”

“The best” answered straight away Arthur.

“That has the merit of being clear. Well, I have what you need."

They get into a car, which Elsa drove. They crossed all types of streets, boulevards, avenues,... Once again the English discovered Paris and marvelled inside. They're English, they don't let anything appear, right ? They finally arrived in front of a fairly busy café-bistro: it was a mixed population. There were bourgeois, merchants, craftsmen, workers,... They were all mixed because they come to this café particularly because it made most of the sports bets, especially horse racing. The manager sees the group entering his establishment and already knows what will happen.

"Good morning, gentlemen and lady. My name is Clément. What can I do for you ?”

“We're going to have some tea," Elsa replied.

“Good. Green, grey, black tea ?”

“Give us the color you want, man. We're going to sit down.”

“Perfect” he swallowed. “I'll bring this to you right away.” He waved to them to move forward in the room to settle in. They sat on a red couch under large mirrors.

“So what do you think ?” asked Alfie.

“I say it's fucking chic here. This makes me want to fart in silk" said Arthur. John laughed at his brother's remark, while Tom looked up at the ceiling, jind of desperate.

“The place welcomes all types of people. There are no longer any social classes when it comes to making money effortlessly," said Elsa. “It seems that the manager makes 5000 francs in just one week. Not just when there are horse races. People bet on other sports too.”

“It looks very good to me," said John.

“Besides, if you have a racehorse, people will take it as their mascot, and bet on it. They will come to consume and play even more.”

“It's a good strategy," commented Thomas. “Are the games rigged ?”

“No, everything is in order.”

“And the manager, what do we do with him ?”

“We'll take care of it.” At the same time Clément walked in with the tea and served his customers. “Do you need anything else ?”

“Yes. Your business.” Elsa answered, looking into his eyes. Clement, stopped moving and breathing. He knew he was going to lose his bistro the moment Elsa came in with his gang.

“I can't, miss... This bistro has been in the family for generations. I can't sell it to you.”

“Who told you I want to buy it ?”

“I thought that....”

“No, I'm gonna put the pressure on you, the pressure of my gun on your skull and either pull the trigger or not. It's up to you.” She took a sip of her tea, as if her threat was a little friendly message.

“Miss Solomons, I'm really sorry, I can't give it to you.” Elsa put her cup down.

“The thing is, it's not even for me. It's for them” she pointed at the Peaky Blinders with her chin. “They wanted to have a business in Paris and I thought this was the best place to do it. You know, you're very lucky it's for them and not for me. They're much softer than I am. They may be willing to buy it from you.”

“Again, the bistro is not for sale.” Clément raised his voice, which Elsa didn't like.

“Very well. We're leaving. I'll leave the tea on your account, huh... As compensation for the bad service.” She got up and signaled to the men to do the same.

“We're leaving ? asked JOhn who didn’t understand the conversation in french.

“Yes, he's a wanker. I'll find you another place. Come on.” Thomas caught the young woman by the arm.

“There is no way I'm leaving," he said quietly to Elsa.

“Who told you we were leaving ?” She freed herself from Tommy's grip, and turnt to Clément. “Where is the phone, please ?”

“There is one only in my office," replied Clément.

“Well, where's your office, then," she sighed.

“It's this way.” Clément showed him the way to his office. They entered a small room with a window. He handed Elsa the phone. She took the member who allows to hear and stunned Clément with it. He fell to the ground but Elsa immediately lifted him up by the collar, and punched him in the nose. Then a second time, a third time. That was when the Peaky Blinders came into the office, alarmed by the screams.

“Elsa !” shouted Tommy. But the young woman didn't care and put Clément against the wall. He moaned in pain. She approached his ear and whispered:

“You're gonna give me your bistro or I'm gonna blow your fucking head off, understand ? I'm losing patience here, I don't know if you've noticed.” Clément cried and grined. His whole body was shaking with fear and pain. As he gave no answer, Elsa pulled out her weapon, removed the security and pointed it at the poor man's temple. “I count to three Clement, then I blow your brains out. One... two... two... thr…”

“Alright !” he shouted. “It's okay! It's okay! Take the bistro... Take it…” he sighed. Elsa had a smile of satisfaction on her face.

“Thank you. Wise decision.” She dropped him to the ground and he curled up moaning in pain and sadness. “There you guys are, you're the new owners of the bar. We'll make new documents saying you own the place. My guys will do that.” She paused for a short while and examined the desk and the man on the ground, then turnt to the Peaky Blinders. “Shall we have a drink to celebrate ? You invite me hahahaha !” She laughed hysterically. She took her uncle's arm and they left. Arthur got behind the bar and served the group some whiskey. They each had a drink and Elsa rose hers. “To the new bosses ! Welcome to Paris, darlings !” She made her glass ring on those of others who imitated her.

A customer walked up to a server and asks: "I would like to bet on Moca, number 7. I bet 150 francs". Elsa looked at the boys who didn't understand what the man had just said.

“Guys, you're going to get yourself some golden balls," she said, drinking a sip of her whiskey.

“It's all thanks to you," said John. “If you knew it made a lot of money, why didn't you take it ?”

“I don't know... I wanted to have other businesses than bars and restaurants. Also, I like to save bistros that suck. So there was no challenge there.”

“Anyway, it's a very nice place. Thank you again Elsa.” Tommy rose his glass in her direction.

“I should learn from you, Elsa," said Alfie.

“What do you mean?

“Put my fist in someone's face to get what I want. That's the only thing they understand. When I get home, I'll do that. The guy you just smashed up, he barely fought for what he has ! It's so easy.” Elsa laughed, but not the Peaky Blinders, still embarrassed by the young woman's methods of persuasion. They finished their drinks and left.

“What do you want to do now ?” asked Elsa.

“Let's go see the Bastille! I want to see where the fucking French cut off their fucking king's head," laughed Arthur.

“Arthur, first of all the Bastille was destroyed during the Revolution, there is nothing left, so you won't see the prison," explained Elsa with a slight hint of contempt in her voice. “Secondly, he was guillotined in the Place de la Révolution, now called Place de la Concorde. If you want we can go, and then there is the Tuileries garden and the Louvre. What do you think of that ?”

“It's perfect," replied Alfie always very enthusiastic. Let's go!"

They climbed into the car and Elsa drove them to Paris. They arrived in a perpendicular street to the Place de la Concorde, where they parked. They got off the car and walked towards the Obelisk. Once in the square, Elsa recounted what happened on January 21, 1790, the day the French guillotined their king. They then headed for the Jardin des Tuileries in the direction of the Louvre:

"It's still incredible that you dared to behead your king," John told Elsa. The other three men being further ahead. “You really have to hate your sovereign.”

“I don't think we hated our king. We hated the system to which we gave everything, but which gave us nothing in return, not even the right to express ourselves, not even the right to count in society. It had to stop. But you're not going to tell me you love your king, are you ?”

“I could !” he replied. “No, the thing is, I don't really care. I do my business and that's it. Politics and all that crap, it's not for me.”

“Your stuff or Tommy's ?”

“What do you mean ?”

“Well, he's still the one who makes all the decisions without ever consulting you and Arthur, he makes you do the dirty work,... Alfie told me that.”

“That's not true. We decide together.”

“Oh, yeah? What about the story with the Russians ? Alfie told me no one knew what was going on except Tommy. And that he was giving you assignments and that you shouldn't ask questions. Isn't that true either? I thought your company was a family business. Tommy is a family member, he's not the family alone. You deserve to know what's going on.” She stopped talking for a moment, and saw that John was uncomfortable. “Anyway, it's none of my business. Let's talk about other things.”

“ About what ?” asked the youngest of the Shelbys.

“Anything you want.

“All right. Would you like to have dinner with me ?” dared to ask John. And here it is again, that naughty smile that has certainly broken many hearts. Elsa was surprised by his request.

“I don't know. I don't know. If it's asked correctly, we can work something out," she says.

“Elsa Solomons,” John stopped and standed in front of the young woman so that she faced him, “would you do me the great honor of having dinner with me tonight ?” He smiled and she didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Avec plaisir. But tonight I can't, I have business to do. Tomorrow, I'm free," she smiled. John imitated her, satisfied with the answer of his future date for one night. They started walking one step faster to catch up with the rest of the group.

They finally arrived at the pyramid. They then decided to enter the museum. They visited a few rooms, examining paintings and other works of art. Everyone stopped at different paintings to look at them.

"It pisses me off with all this museum bullshit stuff,” grunted Arthur. “What the fuck are we doing here ? And then this painting, what's so special about it ?”

“It's Arthur art, try to appreciate it.” said Thomas.

“Yeah well, it pisses me off," he replied, sitting on a bench in the middle of the room.

Thomas joined Elsa who was admiring a huge canvas depicting a war scene. She saw him approaching in her field of vision and started the conversation:

"Don't you think we feel the fear of the soldiers ? But also their hatred towards their enemies. I don't understand that.”

“ What don’t you understand ?”

“War.” Thomas closed his face in confusion. “After all, they are men used as pawns in a context they did not choose. The kings, the government chose, not them. They just wanted to survive and hope one day to live.”

“Isn't that what you do ?”

“War ?”

“Yes. You manipulate people, you use them as your pawns. You're confronting other clans. And the people you torture, they didn't choose that.” Elsa listened to the Shelby chief carefully, but didn’t look at him.

“Of course if they chose it. War is something I do locally, between two damn Mafia clans. Civilians are not in danger. You choose to be a gangster. I don't manipulate, I'm an open book in terms of my working methods. I'll let you know. People don't listen, it's their problem, they pay the consequences.”

“Did you choose to be a gangster ?” asked Thomas. Elsa thought, staring into the void.

“I chose to survive, Thomas. I had several choices, I chose this one. I will pay the consequences for the rest of my life.” She turnt to him. “So will you.”

“I’m not like you.”

“Fuck no, you're not like me. You're weak and scared... You're sentimental and you let your emotions guide you. We don't play in the same class, Thomas. You're not like me. But you're a gangster anyway, because you chose to get involved in this, and now you're already starting to pay the consequences.” She started leaving but Thomas kept talking.

“How do you plan to integrate my horse into Longchamps ?”

“How do you expect me to do that ? I force the entrance, old sport, I force the entrance…” She joint her uncle, and continued the visit.

After a two-hour visit, the Peaky Blinders and Solomons decided to return to their hotel, so they headed to their car. The vehicle was still there but someone was inside. Elsa pulled out her gun: "Get the fuck out of there, asshole ! Hurry up!". The thief started the car and it exploded, propelling the group backwards.

#arthur shelby #john shelby #peaky blinders fanfiction #oc x peaky blinders #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #alfie solomons #imagine peaky blinders #be my reason #johnismyreason #oc x john shelby

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adarafaelbarba · 6 years

Text

“I’m not exactly high class society”

request: ohhhhhhkay I am just going to go ahead and request the spiciest Charlie (TGC preferred but not required) you can come up with! (I am not prepared!) Whatever you feel! - @reformedkingsmanagent

Pairing: (TGC)!Charlie x Reader

Warnings: TGC spoilers (for those who haven’t seen it!) Also swearing and some sexual tension/reference

Note: I tried my best love <3

After the fall of Kingsman you met up with Eggsy and Merlin outside the now ruined tailor shop, thanking the lucky star you and your dog, a husky name (Y/D/N), had not been at home or HQ when the missiles hit the various Kingsman buildings. «This is Charlie’s doing! I’m sure of it», Eggsy growled, he had unfortunately lost his pug JB and his best mate who’d been watching JB for the evening. With the sound of Charlie’s name you jumped slightly. Although he was a traitor to the Kingsman organization you had never been able to shake off the crush you had on him, you had just pushed it away and tried to forget about it, dating a fellow agent by the codename Tristan. Sure, you would never feel the way about him as you had about Charlie, but at least Tristan hadn’t betrayed the organization he so desperately had tried to become a part of a year ago. «Who else is down?» you asked, looking at Merlin. «we’re the only ones left of Kingsman, everyone else is dead.» Hearing the news your heart sunk, no wonder Agent Tristan, or Gavin as you knew him as, hadn’t answered. «There’s no time for emotions, remember your training», Merlin said, his voice low, not trusting your voice you just nodded, and the three of you, with your dog made you way to Berry Bros and Rudd: Wine Merchants, where, according to Merlin our Doomsday protocol would be.

«I just can’t believe Charlie would do such a thing», you huffed, feeling the effects of the alcohol in your system. «He hated us! I understand perfectly well why he did it! And why’d you care anyways? He killed your boyfriend, Agent Tristan», Eggsy scoffed. «Gavin and I weren’t really a couple. And besides, Charlie wasn’t always like that», you tried to defend him, although in all fairness, why bother? Charlie would have never done the same for you.

…

After going to the Statesman Distillery in Kentucky and finding a very much alive Harry, you had begged Champ and Merlin to let you go to Italy with Harry, Eggsy and Agent Whiskey, secretly hoping you could get Charlie to help you defeat Poppy. «It’s too dangerous! We don’t know what they could be planning», Merlin had stated, «and yet, you send Gal— Harry, out there, even if he’s not had any training! Come on Merlin! I can get Charlie to help us, you know I can!» You pleaded, and at last the older Quartermaster gave up, letting you go with Eggsy, Harry and Whiskey.

…

«Ah, if it isn’t Agent Gawain», Charlie smirked, having cornered you just as Eggsy and Whiskey made their way to the Cable car, not having noticed that you were left behind. «Charlie … you don’t have to do this!» you pleaded, but to no avail. You didn’t even see the first punch coming, nor did you see the second. «Stop, I beg of you, stop this madness Charlie!» he laughed in a sinister way. «Why stop love? You came here to stop me from cleansing the world of drug addicts, so, I’m stopping you before you get the chance. Nothing personal of course», he smirked, swinging for another punch, which you missed. «Come one Charlie! This is madness», you huffed, jumping out of the way. «I don’t want to fight you!» you said, blocking his punches, feeling something harder than a normal knuckle hit your arm, could it be a new metal arm then? Eggsy had mentioned something the day after his encounter with Charlie in London, but you hadn’t really paid attention, now you wish you had. «Oh come on now love, you know you want too. Isn’t that why you asked Merlin to get me kicked out?» he asked. «What? No! Of course not! I never asked anyone to chuck you out! You failed the training course, you did it to yourself!» you were starting to wear down, and your arms were being harder to hold up in defense. «Shame I didn’t get rid of the three of you, but I supposed seeing as the rest of those high society scumbags are dead now, I should feel at least a little bit happy yeah?» he laughed again, his hand getting trough your defense and wrapping his fingers around your neck, lifting you up off the ground. «Why fight for them? Why work for a lost cause?» he asked, looking at you as you dangled from his grip, trying desperately to free yourself from his metal grip. «Beca— because the world needs saving», you gasped, trying to kick him where it would hurt. «Ah, nice try love», he smirked, pressing down a little harder on your neck before it went blank.

…

You woke up what seemed like hours later in what looked like a hospital room. Trying to sit up you found it impossible as your hands had been cuffed to the bed. «In case you were thinking of escaping», Charlie said with a sinister look on his face. «Where the hell am I?!» you growled, trying to get loose from the restrains. «I can’t tell you that», he mused, sitting on the chair next to your bed. «I came here thinking I could save you Charlie. I hoped the fact that you and I were friends some time ago would help the fact that we needed you on our team. Please Charlie, I’m not asking as a Kingsman agent, I’m asking as a friend, please, just help me save the world», you pleaded. «I knew they’d soften you, especially that boy of yours, what was his name again? Ah yes, Gavin. Why have an uninteresting little boy like him huh?» Charlie laughed. «Because, I couldn’t have you», you mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear you, but he did, and boy did his expression change. «You mean you?» you nodded, looking at him. «I always wanted to be more than just friends with you, but I didn’t think I was your type», you sighed. «What made you think that?» he asked, looking solely in your eyes, his gaze almost boring into your skull. «Because of your background, you were basically oozing aristocracy, and I got into Eaton because my dad knows the Dean. I’m not exactly high class society», you huffed.

Watching Charlie as he got up, you were shocked to see him un-cuff you, before he sat back down. «Sit here», he said with a stern voice, patting his lap. Not even thinking, you go out of the bed and straddled his lap, looking into his eyes. Feeling his hands run up and down your thighs you anticipated the moment when he would kiss you, but that didn’t mean you were ready for the sensation of it. Pressing his lips firm on your he kissed you in a bruising manner, earning a moan from you. His hands were roaming all over your body and you let out a squeal when he got up, still holding onto you and not breaking the kiss as he carried you to the bed you’d previously been in. Laying you down on it he took the cuffs and locked one side to the bedpost before cuffing you again. «What are y—», he kissed you before you could finish the sentence, grinding against you and you knew you wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.

#Edward Holcroft #charlie hesketh #Kingsman #kingsman the secret service #Kingsman the golden circle #Charlie Hesketh x Reader #Kingsman x Reader

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