#Love Your Larder | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starrgaziinggg · 8 months

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DONT LET ME LOVE YOU | hwang hyunjin

royal au | prince hyunjin x princess reader

PART TWO -> the plan (6k words) (smut warning!)

directory

Jeongin's house was practically your second home. His parents had left him a small fortune when they died, allowing him to keep and maintain the house they'd left in his name. It had served you well over the years, especially when you needed some time away from your overbearing duties.

The cottage lay encapsulated by greenery; shrubs and tall oak trees leaving it hidden to the naked eye. It was one of those places you would only be able to find if you knew were to look. Jeongin had told you it was his great grandmas, and she had handed ownership down the family. That was evident from how old the building was, the walls covered in years worth of vines and wisteria.

After informing your brother of what your whereabouts were going to be for the next week, you'd had to beg him not to say anything to your father. "He'll just get on at me for not being at the palace," you'd said, not wanting to explain to your potentially traitorous brother the real reason you were leaving the palace for just short of a week.

Chan had, peculiarly, dismissed you quite simply. He'd appeared busy at the time, working in your fathers office, and you'd returned to Jeongin in your bedroom relatively easily. An hour was all it took for you to pack a bag of essentials, grab your horses and start your journey to Jeongin's house.

He sits in front of you, now, holding an array of playing cards in his hands. He was bluffing - you were almost certain of it. You could read all his tells - the way his eyebrows raised slightly whenever he lied, his confidence growing.

"I win," you say simply when the time comes, laying your cards flat onto the table after Jeongin reveals his hand. He scoffs, double takes, and then sits back on his heels and rolls his eyes.

"It's unfair," he whines, collecting his hand of playing cards and shuffling them. "I bet you were literally trained on how to play cards well."

You don't bother arguing with him, because he's kind of right.

"Another round?" Jeongin asks, but you shake your head in response. You'd only been at the cottage for an hour or so, but you were already getting antsy. After making sure the horses were safe in the stable behind the house, you and Jeongin had brought out the cards whilst you waited for Minho to arrive. You'd had word from Felix that he'd managed to get a pardon from his duties under the pretence that he'd come down with an illness and needed to set the next couple of days out.

Minho was supposed to already be here, though. You'd told Felix to tell him two sharp, reinforcing that you meant two in the afternoon and not two in the middle of night. Yet, here you were at just past three with no sign of him.

You needed his intel to even start putting together the basis of a plan. Three heads worked better than two, especially when the third head was a Royal Guard of your rival court and could bring information that would be impossible for you to ever get your hands on.

"Why don't I make us some lunch?" Jeongin says suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts and putting the deck of cards back into their case. He stands up from the floor of the cosy living area, smiling down at you. "I brought some food with me."

"You mean you stole some from the larder," you point out, tilting your head and pulling yourself up from the floor. "They do daily stock checks, so it's your ass if they find out, by the way."

Jeongin waves a hand in front of his face as though he doesn't care, which you assume he probably doesn't. He could talk circles round anyone, that boy. He walks past the sofa from the front of the downstairs area and into the kitchen in the back corner, pulling out a load of bread from the cupboard and laying it onto the countertop.

"Why don't you put your stuff in your room?" He proposes, turning around to talk to you face on from where you remained behind the couch. "I thought Minho could use the room straight on from the stairs, and you could use the one to the left? I'll be in the one on the right."

You nod, giving him a half smile. "Who thought we'd ever see the day Minho is sleeping in the same quarters as us?" You ask, picking up the bag you had packed which you'd dumped onto the floor upon arrival.

"If he ever shows up, that is," Jeongin points out, looking towards the old grandfather clock that sat against the wall to his left. You shrug, unable to say much else, as you wander up the stairs and into the bedroom you usually stayed in whilst you crashed here.

Jeongin had seemingly gone to great lengths to try and make his home as inviting as possible. He'd changed all the bed sheets and cleaned up tremendously since the last time you'd stayed, which may or may not have involved a bottle of your dads best champagne and the two of you getting way drunker than you should have.

You open your bag onto the bed, pulling out your clothes and placing them in a dresser. You'd be here for the next week, after all, and as silly as it seemed you thought it would ease your nerves to try and make yourself seem at home here. This whole situation was completely unknown territory, and you honestly felt as though you were in over your head.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind, you finish unpacking, taking a minute to look out the window and watch the setting sun. Now that the warmer weather was well and truly gone, darkness surrounded you quicker than it used to. There was some sort of commotion going on downstairs, and your best bet was that Jeongin had some how fucked up making sandwiches, though that wasn't so hard to believe.

You have to blink a couple times after you walk downstairs and see Minho sitting at the counter, practically hoovering up a sandwich as Jeongin stands at the other side of the counter filling up a glass of water.

"When did you get here?" You ask, taking the sandwich Jeongin had handed to you and taking a bite.

"Two minutes ago," Minho responds before chugging the rest of his water and placing the glass back onto the counter. "It was a mission."

"How come?" You take a seat beside him, giving Jeongin a look. He shrugs in response, leaning against the counter to listen to Minho talk.

"Do you know how hard it is to get out my duties and escape palace grounds and steal classified information all in the span of a day?" He states the obvious, raising an eyebrow at you. "This isn't going to be an easy feat, princess. We're wasting time just sitting here."

You nod, trying to hide the roll of your eyes. It was obvious Minho ran a very militant ship, which was not what you nor Jeongin were used to. But, if it meant saving both of your courts from whatever shit storm was about to brew, you'd be more than happy to get on board.

Minho bends down to pick his bag up from the floor, unzipping it to bring out a folder. He pulls out some documents as Jeongin clears space on the table, spreading out the sheets of paper.

"Correspondence from the logs of people who have entered in and out of the palace," he states, pointing at a few pieces of paper. "Dated back to a month ago. There's not much information, just your brothers initials a couple times, but it proves I wasn't lying about your brother being involved in all of this. The logs are kept hidden, but even though your brother has been coming secretly, they still keep note. Probably incase he tries to deny it."

It's true; your brothers thick handwriting is scrawled on these pages, his initials in multiple places on the sheets. You lean back in your seat as you read them, feeling Jeongin's intense gaze on you.

"So Chan really is double crossing us?" He thinks aloud. "His own family?"

"Don't jump to that conclusion too quickly," Minho offers, his tone surprisingly gentle. "I know what it looks like, but we don't want to paint him the bad guy so quickly. We still don't know why he was meeting with Hyunjin's dad."

"And you don't think Hyunjin knew anything about this?" You ask, turning to look at Minho directly. He shakes his head.

"I mean, I can never speak for certain, but I was with him almost every hour of every day before he left for training. The only times I wasn't we were either sleeping or he was with you, so I don't see how he could be involved in this," he answers, which reassures you, but also pains you. To know he was out training with no knowledge of the schemes taking place behind his back was terrifying.

"I'm sure your prince isn't in on anything," Jeongin adds, giving you a genuine smile. Minho turns to him, giving him one of those downturned smiles as if he's proud. Jeongin doesn't notice it, but you do. "I think right now we need to focus on Chan. He's your brother, after all, and I know you two don't see eye to eye sometimes, but I'm sure he would never intend to put you or your family in harms way."

That was an understatement. Your brother was a good few years older than you, and whilst you got on well for the most part, your brother was always much closer with your father, opting to spend most of his time learning the ways of running a kingdom whilst you were gallivanting with Jeongin. Despite that, you did agree with Jeongin. Surely your elder brother would never plan something behind your back in a malicious way.

"I don't know," you groan, leaning forward to rub your temples. "This is all pretty insane."

"It's a lot to wrap your heads around," Minho agrees, nodding with his brow furrowed. "First things first, I think you guys need to do some digging. Go back to your palace, find any information you might deem useful. Tomorrow I'm gonna meet with Felix, whilst I'm here, and talk to him. If anyone knows about messages between your brother and Hyunjin's father, it will be him. He oversees all communication between the courts."

"He does?" You ask, shocked that you didn't already know that. You realise now that there was a lot about your court that you had absolutely no idea about.

Minho nods. "Felix knew Chan from school, apparently, so he got him the job."

Jeongin seems to remember this. "I did see them together often," he relays, clearly deep in thought. "I knew I recognised him from something important."

"Yeah, well, I'll see what he knows," Minho confirms, and you nod your head at him in thanks. "He might have picked up on something suspicious. And, I can ask him to make sure he looks out for anything else."

"That would be a great help," you say genuinely. "So while you meet with Felix, Jeongin and I will head back to the palace and snoop around for anything we think might help. Then, we can reconvene afterwards and discuss what we find and try and make a plan from that?"

"That sounds good to me," Jeongin says, giving you a half smile. "Minho?"

"Yeah, fine by me, too," he agrees, and you all look at each other for a second in understanding. There's a moment of peaceful quiet, as you ponder over your plan and the only noise is the birds, until there's a sharp knock on the front door.

Jeongin turns to you with wide eyes, and you're thankful you closed all the curtains. If anyone saw the three of you here...you dread to think what would happen. As you're about to grab the small pocket knife you keep with you at all times to answer the door, Minho saunters up to it without a second thought.

You're first instinct is that he's double crossed you, and somehow you're about to be sent to your deaths. Jeongin seems to be thinking along the same lines, moving forward instantly, until Minho unlocks the door and someone's on the other side.

Hyunjin.

"What the actual fuck?" Jeongin almost shouts, doing a double take as Minho turns and gives him a 'shh!' whilst Hyunjin quickly walks into the house, dumping a back on the ground as he breaths heavily. You make eye contact then, him giving you a half grin, you with your jaw hanging open, dumbfound.

Nobody moves for a good minute, until Jeongin punches Minho lightly on the arm. "You knew he was coming?"

"First of all, ow," Minho responds, rubbing his arm. You and Hyunjin continue to stare at each other as though the other two aren't there, your open jaw becoming a smile. "Second of all, yes."

"How did you? What did you?" Jeongin says, looking between the two men and failing to finish any of his sentences, before turning his gaze to you. "Did you know he was coming?"

You screw your face up. "Do I look as though I knew?"

"It's nice to formally meet you," Hyunjin says to Jeongin, sticking his hand out. Jeongin shakes it cautiously, his face stoic. "I'm Hyunjin."

"He knows who you are you idiot," you say, rolling your eyes and walking over to greet him. He pulls you into a hug absentmindedly, his hand going straight to your hair to hold you in place. You stay like that for a second, until Minho clears his throat and ruins the moment.

"If you two are done canoodling?" He says, crossing his arms over his chest as you pull away from Hyunjin, feeling your cheeks redden.

"How the hell are you here?" Jeongin says to Hyunjin, taking the words from your tongue.

"You should be asking Minho that," he says, finally catching his breath and resting on the arm of the sofa. "I don't even know why I'm here. I take it there's no family emergency?"

"There actually kind of is a family emergency," Minho says with a knowing smirk. "We've got a lot to catch you up on."

"That's for certain," Hyunjin says with a raised eyebrow. His black hair is short, and you reckon he had to cut it for his training. He has a bruise forming near his eye and a split in the middle of his lip, but besides that he looks incredible, as always. "How come you three are in the same room without strangling each other? I though you were still mad at him for punching you?"

He directs the question to Minho, who scoffs. Jeongin butts in before Minho gets a chance to reply.

"If anyone should be mad, it's me! He punched me with a knife!" He groans exasperatedly, rolling his eyes before composing himself. "However, we have put our difference aside us for the greater good. Or the greater evil, whichever."

"How did you get him out of training?" You say to Minho, trying to deter the conversation, and still not really understanding how Hyunjin is sitting in front of you.

"Forged a letter from his father demanding he come to this address in lieu of training, due to a family emergency. I take it my grand escape worked?" He asks Hyunjin, who chuckles and shakes his head.

"It was my grand escape, but it wasn't actually very grand. I showed the general the letter and he believed it without a second glance. Honestly, that man needs fired - he's off with his consort more than he's conducting army training, and he doesn't seem to care much for the whereabouts of his cadets," Hyunjin explains with a shrug. Minho grins, happy his plan worked. "You're lucky, cause if I get found out it's your ass."

You smile inwardly at Hyunjin using a phrase he picked up from you. Before you met him, he talked impossibly proper, so hearing him say thinks like, 'your ass' makes you smirk.

"But it did work though? You're excused until after the ball?" Minho asks, and Hyunjin nods.

"Unless I get caught out, yeah. And I can always say that I had the letter sent to get myself out of army duties, so don't actually worry," he says to Minho, as if Minho was every actually worried. It honestly warmed your heart how much he cared. "But will one of you please explain what's actually going on?"

Jeongin, Minho and you share an uneasy look, and you decide to take the brunt and explain the situation.

"Your dad wants to overthrow my dad. Or, he did until my brother went to see him the other day. Basically, there's a load of shady shit going on and we think Chan is involved but we don't really know anything," you explain as simply as possible. Hyunjin blinks a couple times, turning to Minho for confirmation.

"That pretty much sums it up," Minho says with a shrug. "Did you know about any of it?"

"None," Hyunjin replies, and you can tell he's more than deflated from having no clue about the ongoings of his court, just as you were. "I knew that my dad was getting impatient about how many problems there were in our court, like the overpopulation - but I had no idea he was planning on doing something."

"There's more to it," Jeongin reminds you, and Hyunjin turns to face him. You realise he's going to tell him the part you didn't really want to mention. "Your dad wanted an alliance with hers, and proposed you two get married to solidify it."

Hyunjin blinks again, looking at you with soft eyes. You smile bashfully, trying to avoid his eyes. "Yep."

"I take it your dad didn't agree?" He asks, and you nod.

"Minho knows more about it than I do," you say, looking towards Minho who sighs as he takes a seat on the sofa.

"It seems as though her father denied the grand wedding request and your father didn't appreciate that. However, I suspect her brother has had some sort of involvement to stop your father from declaring war," Minho explains nonchalantly, as if this all wasn't the craziest thing ever. Jeongin scoffs with a smirk.

"That pretty much sums it up," he says, joining Minho on the sofa.

"That's...a lot to take in," Hyunjin raises his eyebrows, looking towards you and you nod at him. "So what are we going to do about it?"

You love the way he doesn't question anything before becoming on board with your elaborate plan to go behind both of your Courts backs. You realise then how much you'd missed being able to talk to him face to face rather than through your letters. Seeing him in the flesh almost didn't feel real.

"That's what we're still trying to figure out," you answer. "Jeongin and I are going to our palace tomorrow to try and find anything of use, and Minho's going to talk to Felix. We don't have enough insight in whatever's going on to come up with a proper plan yet."

"If I know my father, and reluctantly I do," Hyunjin says begrudgingly. "He won't have abandoned the idea of war so easily. He's been looking for an excuse to declare war for years, and now that he has one, I'll be damned if there's not a proper reason as to why he doesn't see it through."

"My thoughts exactly," Minho agrees. There's a moment of silence as the four of you look between each other, agreeing without words that something bad was happening.

"I knew something was off the minute my father was so adamant we attend your ball on Saturday," Hyunjin looks towards you, tilting his head in a way that makes the now cropped black pieces of hair fall onto his forehead. "If it wasn't a sacred tradition, my father would stop the balls altogether, yet this time he was forcing even my cousins to go, and they always seem to weasel their way out of them."

Hyunjin's cousins, Seungmin and Jisung, were two of the strangest boys you'd ever met. The brothers were constantly at odds, yet spent all their time together. Although, they did have a habit of pulling the most elaborate pranks at your balls, which always made you and Jeongin appreciative. At the last winter ball, they'd somehow managed to switch the Winter Court King's chair with a faulty one, sending him topping to the ground, without ever being caught. But by the snicker and low key high five you caught them sharing, the perpetrators were obvious.

"Why don't we get a night of rest," Minho suggests, looking at you for confirmation. "We have a lot to do, and we can start trying to come up with a proper plan once we have more information tomorrow?"

"That sounds good to me," Jeongin says as he stretches. "Now that we know Chan's involved, we know more about what we're looking for. Correspondence is kept in storage in the castle cellar, and there's a locked off area for confidential pieces."

"My fathers kind of insistent on correspondence being kept private," you say, not revealing that it's due to the fact he has a million consorts on the go and receives an influx of letters from them daily. "We each have a safe to keep anything we want private, since the staff deep clean our rooms every other day."

Hyunjin nods, clearly deep in thought. "That's your best bet," he agrees. "How trustworthy are your maids?"

You and Jeongin both look to each other, puzzled looks plaguing your faces. "I mean, I'd like to think pretty trustworthy, why?"

"You didn't hear this from me," Minho smirks towards Hyunjin. "But it's interesting how much maids overhear and don't say anything about because of their oath of loyalty. It's quite easy to get information out of them."

It's obvious Minho has used some pretty unsubtle methods of finding out information when Jeongin starts mimicking kissing noises and he only laughs. You roll your eyes, shocked at how well these sworn enemies are seemingly getting along.

"Well, I'm not going to be using your methods on my maids," you grimace. "But...Daliyah might be of help."

Jeongin snickers, shaking his head. "You're not wrong."

When Minho and Hyunjin give each other a look, you decide to explain yourself. "Daliyah and Chan had a bit of a...secret love affair. My father still doesn't know about it, since Chan cut it off before it became anything serious, but poor Dal has been more than unhappy about the whole thing. She spends a lot of time trying to be in his company. If anyone's overheard anything, it's her."

"Well I never," Minho raises his eyebrows. "Chan with a maid consort?"

You roll your eyes. "We can talk to her when we visit the palace tomorrow. Then, we should really start putting together a plan for the ball."

All three men nod in agreement, leaving the four of you in a peaceful silence. Although nothing substantial had been achieved yet, and time was ticking, having Hyunjin here lifted a weight off of your shoulders. His presence alone calmed you.

"I'm going to do some perimeter checks on the area. I'll take first watch, too," Minho says, stealth mode switched back on. Jeongin rolls his eyes.

"You don't need to take a watch. Nobody knows this place exists. I'll come with you on your checks since I need to make sure the horses will be okay for the night anyway, but don't bother staying up," he mutters to Minho, following him when he ignores the younger boys jeers and leaves mid sentence. Once Jeongin has locked the front door behind them, there's a calmness as you turn to Hyunjin.

"Hi," is all you say sheepishly, unable to quite believe that he was standing in front of you.

"Hi, beautiful," he replies easily, taking a step towards you and engulfing your hands with his own. You lean into his embrace, sighing contentedly as you do so. For a man that just basically escaped the military, he looked and smelled as divine as ever. "I'm sorry about all of this."

You look up at him as he says that. "As long as you're not double crossing me, there's nothing to apologise for. It's not your doing. Plus, if anything, I should be thanking you and Minho. There was no way Jeongin and I could have done anything to stop whatever's happening together if we caught wind of it."

"You doubt yourself," he tuts, smiling down at you. "Shall we go upstairs? My back is killing me. I had to jump over a dozen walls to get here, you know."

"My hero," you fake swoon, leading him up the stairs and into your allocated bedroom. He shuts the door behind him, shrugging off his thick winter coat and placing it neatly on the dresser beside the door. After lighting the logs on the fireplace to provide some warmth for the chilly bedroom, you sit down on the bed, patting the space next to you. "Why don't you tell me all about your time away from me?"

"Well," Hyunjin chuckles, lowering himself onto the bed beside you. "It was torture. The only thing that brought me any joy was reading your letters."

"Really?" You reply, unable to contain your smile as you stare into the eyes of the handsome man beside you. He nods.

"Mhm. I especially enjoyed reading about Jeongin falling off of his horse on one of your outings. I actually laughed out loud," he shakes his head with a smile. "It's a lot to wrap my head around, all of this, but it doesn't shock me in the slightest."

"I understand," you agree, giving him a sad smile. "I feel the same. Let's just forget about all of that while you're here. I take it you won't be staying long?"

He shakes his head, and you feel your shoulders drool subconsciously. "I'm afraid not. I need to return to training before my father finds out I'm gone, which means I'll have to leave as soon as I can tomorrow. But, I'll be back for the ball. You should be used to only seeing me in small doses by now, darling."

His nickname sends a shiver down your spine, but his words cause an ache in your chest. "I miss you terribly regardless."

"As do I," he takes one of your hands in his, beginning to rub small circles in the palm of your hand. "Is it too crazy to believe that one day, our courts will be civil and we can be together in peace?"

"Yes," you can't help but say, which thankfully makes him chuckle. "But I have hope."

"All I want is you," Hyunjin says sincerely, looking between your eyes. The stillness of the air and the white shining light from the moon adds a heaviness to the moment, causing your breath to catch in your throat. "Always. You've consumed my every thought."

You can't find the words to reply, instead letting him move closer towards you and instinctively brush some stray hairs from your face.

"I wish things could be different for us," he sighs, looking between your eyes. You can't help but play with the short dark strands at the nape of his neck, missing the long locks you were used to.

"Me too, Hyunjin," you respond, closing your eyes momentarily and breathing the moment in. When you feel Hyunjin's soft, plush lips push against yours your response is instantaneous, kissing him back with all the want and desire you'd kept captive while he was away.

It takes no time at all for him to deepen the kiss, and you can't help but think about how this was the first time you were kissing him within the safety of four walls and not outside in the warm summer air. He gently pushes you so your back is leaning against the plush bed, embracing it as he moves his body so that it's caging yours.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he says, pulling away momentarily. You shake your head, smiling up at the handsome boy in your vision.

"I don't want you to ever stop," you say, because truthfully you would never be able to get enough of him. It felt as though you were on cloud nine, having him all to yourself without worrying about being caught. The reasons you were in the confinements of Jeongin's home were forgotten as you stared dreamily into Hyunjin's eyes.

His mouth turns into a small smile. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, my love," he cautions, but his efforts are futile when you pull him back down towards you and place your lips against his again. He chuckles into the kiss, knowing you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

You didn't know if you'd ever get the opportunity to be intimate with Hyunjin. The relationship between you and him was secret kisses, hiding in the fields of the border, never wanting to take it too far for fear of prying eyes. Now, however, it felt like the days of hiding were so far in the past.

He undresses you slowly, carefully, as if he doesn't want to rush. You have to remind him that Jeongin and Minho could come back any second, but he doesn't seem to care. When you're both topless, he kisses down your neck and mumbles, "I have you all to myself for tonight. Those idiots won't ruin this for me."

You can't help the laugh that escapes you, his comment turning the somewhat bittersweet moment lighthearted, if only for a second. The tension between you rises quickly, kisses becoming heated, hands unable to stay still. Hyunjin touches every part of you before finally giving in, taking off every piece of clothing both of you had on and discarding them beside the bed.

He doesn't waste a second, kissing down your body until he's right where you need him most, looking up at you as he gently kisses your inner thighs before attaching himself at your core, making you feel a way you've never felt with any other partner you've been with before. He's so gentle, yet eager, and your breathes become short when he starts to use his fingers and tongue at the same time.

There's no feelings of self consciousness with him, not when he looks at you as though you hand painted every star in the sky. The way he comes back up to your face when you squeeze his hand, staring at you under him as though he can't believe he's looking at you. The way he caresses your cheek with his thumb when he finally pushes into you, his other hand interlinked with your own. You wince for a moment, adjusting to his size.

"I've got you," he whispers, forehead pressed against yours, his voice thick. He's suppressing himself for your sake, his eyes squeezing closed as he holds back a groan. "Don't worry, you're okay."

He starts slow, making sure you're comfortable, nodding when he starts increasing his pace and looks into your eyes for confirmation. When the pain starts turning to pleasure, you allow yourself to let go, forget about every ounce of stress plaguing your mind to focus on Hyunjin and this moment.

He kisses you deeply as he pulls himself in and out of you; your collarbone, your neck, your mouth. Your hands find his back, fingers digging deeply into the smooth flesh, pulling him as close as humanly possible. You have no idea if Minho and Jeongin have come inside yet, but right now you couldn't care less. He breathes deeply into your ear, shuddering when you pull at his hair and pushing into you so fast your gasping.

You could stay in this moment forever, attached mentally and physically to the man of your dreams, your prince. The closeness of having him inside you for the first time is a feeling you never wished to forget.

He changes his rhythm, placing one hand against whilst keeping his other firmly enclasped with yours. His combat stamina is no match for how able he is to keep himself together, keeping himself as quiet as possible. You wished for the day you could let loose, do whatever you wished in your own bed in your own home, together. To hear him groan properly without holding it in.

You take what you can get of each other, trying to keep composed but ultimately failing. Your whines slip, especially when he brings his face close to yours. All you want is for him to hear how good he makes you feel. Maybe it was because he was the first person you'd been intimate with you you'd ever loved, or maybe it was because you were so infatuated with him, but you were losing yourself to him.

Never had you been so organically yourself during intimacy. You'd only ever had sex with a couple of men, but you could never call this 'having sex'. Hyunjin was making love to you as passionately as someone had ever before.

It's not long until Hyunjin's quick and powerful thrusts send you over the edge, your toes curling and your heart racing. He doesn't just stop at once either, letting you recover and bringing back the immensely pleasurable feeling again. He brings you to your high multiple times, watching you closely and whispering sweet nothings in your ear before finally letting go himself.

What must have been an hour later, his head is resting against the headboard as you're on top of him, his firm hands gripping your sides and guiding you slowly. That's when you hear the front door open and the unmistakable sound of your supposed arch nemesis best friends laughing together downstairs.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes in annoyance, thrusting up into you, hitting the best spot a couple of times before slowing down and pulling himself out of you with laboured breaths. You're exhausted, physically and mentally, but it couldn't matter less with Hyunjin by your side. He pulls the sheets around you as you latch yourself onto him, trying to get your breathing under control as the sound of impending footsteps make their way upstairs.

"That was incredible," Hyunjin whispers softly, tracing his pointer finger over your facial features delicately. He's still staring at you with a smile when Jeongin and Minho call 'goodnight' from their rooms. You both reply, thankful that neither of them decided to come inside the room.

"I don't want you to leave again," you whisper back, your stomach twisting into knots at the thought. He shakes his head, tracing your lips.

"Don't think about that right now, hm? You're here with me now. I promise you, my darling, I will figure something out," he stresses, and you know he's being sincere. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"I love you," he says, and although it's not the first time he's said those words out loud to you, they hold so much more meaning now. "I am so hopelessly in love with you it kills me inside knowing that life has made it almost impossible for us to be together. But if I do one thing, it will be to do everything in my power to be with you for the rest of my life."

Tears well at your eyes with his every words, but you hold them back for his sake, knowing that it will make him leaving tomorrow so much worse for the both of you if you get upset in front of him. Instead of crying, you composed yourself, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I love you, Hwang Hyunjin. No matter what," you say honestly, watching as his features soften and he smiles down at you. "It's you and me forever, yeah?"

"Of course, my princess," he agrees, childishly interlinking your fingers. You giggle sleepily at the action and cosying yourself up to him. "You and me forever."

I am so ridiculously sorry for the wait!!! I was gonna make the whole series three parts but I just keep writing too much so it’s now gonna be four hahaha, I hope you enjoy this part !!!

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin #jeongin #lee know #felix lee #skz #han jisung #stray kids fanfics #stray kids fic #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fluff

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hellenistic-prince · 10 months

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Prayer to Hestia

Home-loving Hestia, fair maid who sits by the fire, first-born of fearful Kronos and deep-souled Rhea, goddess who is the beating heart of every home, tender of the altar flame, guardian of the gate, I pray to you this day, I ask your favor. All who pass this threshold pass into your realm, O goddess; may all who dwell within these walls be under your protection. Hestia, eldest of the deathless gods, I ask your blessing on my home and on my family. May we live our lives in joy and love, may our larder be full, may we be sheltered from storms, kept safe from all ill, may only those who wish us well make their way to our door. Be ever welcome in our home, O Hestia; be ever present in our hearts.

#Hestia #hestia devotee #hestia devotion #hestia deity #greek gods #greek mythology #greek pantheon #pagan prayer #hellenic religion #hellenism #hellenic worship #pagan #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #hellenic prayer

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four-leaf-loco · 5 months

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How Divine

Autistic!Gale x autistic!Reader drabble

(I think this pic is screenshotted by @/ Daily Gale here on tumblr?)

gn, slightly spicy to start but nothing saucy, post game , not beta read just 👉thoughts👈

Some of my own experiences and some of others. Feel free to read even if you're not autistic! Any Gale (🧅) lover can interact ❤️

Gale getting desperate.

Gale feeling an insatiable eagerness for you.

Gale sniffing the crook of your neck.

Kissing behind your ear, a deep breath of you in his lungs. Exhaling just as slow and smooth. Measured.

His hands have snaked around your middle, one on your hip and the other on your stomach. In the crook of where your pelvis and soft guts meet. It's warm there. His hands are so cold. Your body is eager to warm his own. You turn so your breaths mingle. Gale smiles. Your lips curl up to greet his own fondly. It's not reciprocation but rather you feel like doing it. His gentle eyes comfortable and unconcerned with perfunctory things that everyone else seems concerned about. They're only concerned with you, the real you. And he sees the same in your eyes. Masks meant for the outside kept only to bear the cruelty of those unwelcome in your tower, your home. They hang in the doorway, just as unwelcome. Gale promised you such, but not with words, no. He showed you, understood. Gone is Gale of Waterdeep, here now is the man you share a last name. A man who committed to the name even before you shared it. Dusted the cobwebs from the corners. Sweeping it and unveiling the well loved furniture. Fixing the fireplace and the candle holders. Making sure the kitchen larders were stocked. The windows draftless. He made Dekarios home again.

The fire in the tower is warm but gods you're the only fire that will make his mind and body alive.

The weave is secondary for the first time in his life. It cannot give him you. Your love... Your affections and inflections so particular to you. Endearing him to be yours.

He knows to not let his breath tickle your skin uncomfortably. Not to let your skin crawl. To touch you to your tastes as to support you against the touch of the wind that threatens to undo your composure. To drown the noise of the city. To welcome the cackle of the fireplace, the purr of Tara, the push and pull of the waves out by the balcony.

Gale knows all your quirks. Honors your needs and boundaries. You honor his in turn. Making sure his hair is always at his particular length, none of the shorn hair left to itch. None of his uniform robes scratchy and silently upsetting. His books lined up and left how he likes, no, needs, them. Finding comfort in the piles of trinkets and tools he makes and him in yours. Tara says she can't stand the mess you two make but it only makes it home.

You know deep down in your heart you can listen to Gale all day. But when conversation burns the membranes of your ears and creates a rage in even your most abstract thoughts he doesn't take it personally. He made a pretty stone to cast silence if you need it. The piano now plays your favorite songs all day too if you wish, over and over. Head and hands feeling the thrums of the strings inside as the keys are tugged down.

Gale Dekarios rubs his beloved spouse's ear playfully between two fingers to bring you back to the present. He smiles still. You hide in the crook of his neck now, and he's pleased. He sits the two of you down in the plush armchair, limbs tangled and stuck together. He takes out a book to read as you go numb and tingly in his embrace. Your body heavy and relaxed. Tired. Though you've no idea what you did that day; but you don't mind. Gale is back now. You'll dream about it, surely. Then you'll tell him tomorrow morning in bed. And he'll tell you what he did as well after breakfast. The two of you have eaten the same thing for breakfast for the last month but oh how delicious it is! How wonderful it is to know something about tomorrow already. How divine.

How divine it is to be honest. How divine it is to be home. How divine.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x reader #gale fanfic #love my onion man #my sweet onion 🧅 ❤️#my writing #my post

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amorficzna · 5 months

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I just finished the Gale Origin epilogue endings and omggg the god ending is so LMAO - find some of my fav moments below the cut

On this run I romanced Shadowheart so I'm unsure if this is her usual god Gale dialogue or if she just says this, but it's incredible and I fucking love it

Shadowheart: Hmm, you feel a little more substantial than before. Less camping and scrounging off the land, I take it? Gale: Naturally. The god of ambition has an ambitious larder to match. I'm not exactly fighting for scraps. Shadowheart: No offense intended - quite the contrary, in fact. I'm glad you seem well. Truly.

I was hoping to get the option to ascend with her or anything like what I've seen when you romance God Gale otherwise, but it seems like the ascension as an origin makes your romance default to the non-romanced ending.

Tara is also VERY pissed that Gale is a god now and has a lot to say about it. Also so many beard roasts!!

Tara: Ugh. I thought the beard was bad before, and now it's glowing. Gale: Tara! How glad I am to see you! Tara: I wish I could say the same. I thought you had more sense than this, Gale. I thought you had any sense at all. Gale: What happened to 'Mr. Dekarios'? Tara: Using your family name was a show of respect. But you've buried that deep in the litter box, haven't you? Godhood. So vulgar. It isn't too late for you. Other gods have given up divinity. You could still come home. To me. To your mother. To everyone who loves you. But you won't. I know you won't. You've followed Karsus straight down the road to ruin. And I won't be there to watch, Gale. I suppose this is good-bye. To you, your wretched ambition, and that gods awful thing on your chin.

And then naturally you can turn her into a HAIRLESS CAT.

Tara: Oh, very funny. Very godlike behavior. Is this what Elysium's brought you to? It'll take me a tenday to put this right...

For the rest of the companions, there's at least one dialogue option in all of them that includes something about ambition, which seems to be on the forefront of Gale's mind. Here are some of my favs:

Lae: We've heard word of a githyanki outpost hidden deep in Chult. The last of Vlaakith's Sword Coast strongholds. Perhaps you might join us. Help us raze it to the ground, put those godly powers to good use. Gale: If you pray to me during battle, I might aid you. Lae: Pray to you? Chk. I suppose to you, mortals are meant to only worship and obey. What other role might they possibly play in the life of a god? Why don't you go and mingle? That's the word, right? 'Mingle'?

Lae gets so offended by Gale asking her to pray to him she literally just stops talking to him there and then, and I couldn't talk to her after this.

Minsc: How have you filled your days, since we tore the sticky tyrant from the sky? Gale: I claimed the Crown of Karsus, became the god of ambition and established my new domain in Elysium. Minsc: And yet you still make it sound so boring. Truly, God-Gale, Minsc is glad to see you have not changed one bit! But I ask - should Boo send you prayers, answer not. For his ambitions to be realised... the world is not ready for such things.

Fuckiong lmao at Boo being a menace, but also Minsc roasting Gale so hard, get his ass!

And then of course Gale telling everyone to pray to him if they need anything lmao, always be hustling Gale.

#bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #shadowheart #gale dekarios #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #god gale #god of ambition gale #minsc and boo #lae'zel #tara the tressym #bg3 gale

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cyancherub · 1 month

Note

do you have any book recommendations for us :D

MAYBE SO.......!!!! u know i love talkin abt books!!!

well, ok since ive posted about most of the books ive been reading recently MAYBE i can also post about some that i ordered and am waiting to arrive??? because all of these sounded very interesting to me!!!

SO books i have coming in the mail:

surrealist novels:

the woman in the dunes by kobo abe

the hearing trumpet by leonora carrington

the melancholy of resistance by laszlo krasznahorkai:

the third policeman by flann o'brien

nadja by andre breton

(been really into surrealism lately if it isn't apparent. most excited for melancholy of resistance i think)

horror, gothic, etc:

bruges-la-morte by georges rodenbach

the damned (la-bas) by joris-karl huysmans

floating dragon by peter straub

classics, short stories, etc:

french decadent tales (oxford world's classics) by stephen romer

in watermelon sugar by richard brautigan

swann's way (in search of lost time, #1) by marcel proust

selected short stories by balzac

icefields by thomas wharton

some ive picked up recently & stoked to read:

ada, or ardor by nabokov (my most beloved author of all time)

carmilla by le fanu

nightmare alley by william lindsay gresham

a king alone by jean giono

twilight of the idols by nietzsche

transparent things by nabokov

dark water by koji suzuki

selected poems by jorge luis borges (also beloved)

trolled my goodreads for more recs

books ive read & enjoyed so far this year:

the iliac crest by cristina rivera garza

the tenant by roland topor (FAV!!! huge fav)

crimson labyrinth by yusuke kishi

pedro paramo by juan rulfo

carolina ghost woods by judy jordan

death in her hands by ottessa moshfegh

the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera

in the lake of the woods by tim o'brien

disgrace by j m coetzee

goth by otsuichi

books i enjoyed from last year:

the lottery & other stories by shirley jackson

the vegetarian by han kang

rosemary's baby by ira levin

piercing by ryu murakami (an all time fav)

the bloody chamber by angela carter (fav)

starve acre by andrew michael hurley (also a fav)

the glassy, burning floor of hell by brian evenson

the devil's larder by jim crace

monstrilio by gerardo samano cordova

and as a bonus, literally anything by nabokov. i have a big book of his short fiction that ive been reading slowly for a long while. despair by him is my fav book of all time, hands down. he is a master of absurdism (and a master of every language he writes in).

ALSO!!!! if youre into poetry, anything and every single thing by: t.s. eliot, baudelaire, rimbaud, borges. i also love neruda's poetry but i have heard he was an awful man so keep that in mind

#thotbox #thotmail #talky cherub #library cherub #i buy 95% of my books secondhand #i have something of a problem but i figure books are not the worst addiction one can have.....OOPS

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vital-information · 7 months

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"What I really realized about some of my ideas of freedom is that they were like neoliberal fantasies. It's like, 'let me choose everything,' 'leave me alone all the time,' 'don't put any demands on me--only I will make demands.' It's a dark vision, and it really took me a long time to understand that the things that I'd been taught by the capitalist 80s to believe were unfreedom are freedom. Having people who mean something to you, who you have duties towards, is not unfreedom; it's freedom. It's actual existence...To be free of meaning is not freedom. Now my life is full of meanings, sometimes they're difficult, sometimes they're painful, but it's absolutely full. I don't think children are the only root to that kind of meaning, but I absolutely think you have to find something other than yourself to focus on.

...

When I meet a lot of other lady writers, I know, when we first had children we spent our whole time talking about how we were somehow trapped or imprisoned, but that's the most superficial idea of what a relation with other people is like. Now I consider all my relations--my friends, my dog, my husband, my family--as things that liberate me from myself. They are absolute freedom to me, and without them I would just be completely lost. A dog can do this for you, a cat can do this for you, going down to the larder and volunteering can do this for you. You just need to be among other people at some point, because otherwise it's hard to find in yourself (or for me anyway) a reason to go on.

...

It's a question of what does that freedom involve. I notice with the 'children thing' is that, at least in my own case, you spend so long battling to try and retain your own space. Then, when you look at what you've battled for, it isn't very much. These children are about to grow and disappear so quickly that you're going to get what you want sooner than you can imagine. All of these things are so out of sync with our capitalist discourse which is about 'you do you,' 'get what you want.' When it comes into conflict with this other thing, I guess we have in our heads, 'Am I become some kind of Victorian or old-fashioned person who is domesticated and a traditional woman.' We fight against that as if there's no liberating version of being connected to other people. That is the triumph of capitalism: it convinces you that it's just you and the shops, it's just you and the phone, and that's all that there is. Where there is an older vision of solidarity between people, within families, between children, between men and men, women and women, men and women--a community that is freeing. It's not a trap. It's like the only thing that brings joy.

...

I also think that's one of the tricks of the patriarchy: it makes you feel that all the traditional, supposedly feminine arts are humiliating. But why are they humiliating? In my house, it was the other way around. My dad was the cook. My dad was the cleaner. My mom was working a lot. My dad did a lot of those things. They're not humiliating when a man does them, apparently--[Interviewer Annie Macmanus: They're noble.]--He's been dead a long time, and sometimes, I can think of a meal he used to cook me, and it will bring me to tears. It was an art. And it was nourishing. And it was beautiful. And I'm so grateful. It was an act of love. I can't cook like that. My children will never have those memories of me. But, it's not nothing. It's the art of living. If it was a supposedly traditionally male art, you'd be getting awards for it...So I really resent the idea that these things are humiliating, even when I am picking up pants off the stairs, I think, 'I'm doing something for somebody else.' There is something noble in that, I hope.

Of course, the frustration is real. I think men suffer it just as much as women. I think to the credit of many contemporary men, they are doing absolutely the same amount of work...So the frustration is no longer purely female, which might be one of the triumphs of feminism. It's now something that lots of people have to experience, men and women. It's not that it's not real, but I have come to realize that [the frustration]'s not entirely debilitating. When it comes to art making, frustration can be really useful. Not being able to write, having your hands tied for part of every day, when I get down to my desk, I can't wait. Whereas when I was twenty-seven, I do remember embarrassingly moping around saying, 'Oh, I've got writer's block,' 'Oh, I've got ennui.' That to me now is like a comic thing, a ridiculous person who can't be taken seriously."

Zadie Smith, interviewed on Changes with Annie Macmanus

#zadie smith #annie macmanus #domesticity #housekeeping #hestia #to build a home

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nikethestatue · 1 year

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Butter My Bread

Elriel Month 2023 (Glances and Touches)

Elain Archeron is cranky and hungry. All she wants is some toast and bread. During Rhysand's birthday celebration, she uses an unexpected utensil to finally get her bread buttered. And then, all hell breaks loose!

No warnings! Just nice clean fun

Elain Archeron did not like chaos.

Not at all. She didn’t like things to be messy. She didn’t like disorganisation. She didn’t like spills, or rips, or dirty dishes. She didn’t like dust, or grime, or water stains. And today, was just of those days.

The kitchen, the larder, the pantry were all a mess—cakes were being baked, crates of fruits and vegetables piled on the floor, berry juice smeared over the counter, and crumbs were on the huntboard. You know what else didn’t help? Cassian. Cassian, sweet and too big, in this space, pawing at food, ‘sampling’ tarts and pies, offering advice that no one needed, dropping things on the floor.

“You are interfering,” Cerridwen told him sternly.

Defensively, he argued, “I am assisting. Not interfering.”

“One man’s ‘assisting’ is another man’s ‘interfering’,” Nuala threw at him. “Do you want to get in trouble with Elain?”

“Petal loves me,” he told her with bold confidence.

“If you eat another of her blackberry tarts, she will cut off your arm,” Cerridwen just shrugged, as she offered the gruesome warning.

“Precisely. She makes them for Azriel,” the latter was whispered in a hushed tone by Nuala.

“Why is he getting blackberry tarts?” Cassian frowned jealously. “I want them too!”

Cerridwen sighed and then murmured in a sing-song tone, “She luuuurvvess him…”

Brows knitted, Cassian stared at her dumbly.

“Who?”

“Elain.”

“Loves who?” he repeated.

The twins rolled their eyes and Cassian roiled his back at them.

“Elain’s got a mate,” Cassian reminded them. “Lucien likes blackberry tarts?”

“Sure,” Nuala sighed dramatically. “She baked them for Lucien,”

Cassian’s eyes jumped between the two sisters and then he announced, “well, since no one here appreciates my input, I guess I will be on my way.

“I hope that you are all cooking Rhys’s favourites!”

“Oh don’t worry. Only the best for the High Lord.”

Just before he left the kitchen, Cassian paused and then turned and asked,

“Wait, are you saying that Elain likes Azriel?”

Cerridwen looked at him and asked, “What would give you that idea?”

He smirked to himself. Yes, exactly!

It was Rhysand’s birthday.

Elain had spent the morning at the market, mostly to avoid listening to her sister getting railed by her mate. It was challenging—living with the two, now three of them. She appreciated the kindness, she loved baby Nyx and tending to him was her joy, but she always felt like an intruder. She was like a fifth leg on a dog—unnecessary, and ungainly.

And things have been even more uncomfortable lately, for a variety of reasons. She felt like she had no privacy, and with Fae’s acute scenting, she spent half of her time dodging her sister and Rhysand, or bathing. And Rhys was still watching her like a hawk, even two years after that Solstice. She’d learned how to navigate his suspicions, how to assuage his worries and how to dodge him, but she also existed in a permanent state of acute anxiety, which just didn’t help at all.

And what’s more, Cassian ate two of the blackberry tarts, and Elain was miffed. Ehhh…She was miffed at many things today, because the day wasn’t going well. She didn’t find fennel at the market, so her idea for a chicken dish with fennel and oranges went straight to Hel, and she was forced to think of something completely different on the spot. Elain liked to plan, so this wasn’t the way she enjoyed doing things.

She passed by the various stalls, the sight of meat and fish making her kind of queasy and the fact that she couldn’t make her chicken dish was making her upset.

“What’s wrong?”

Azriel’s soft, dark, husky voice startled her. How could a man so large, with his massive wings and enormous height, move so silently? How could he navigate among the shoppers and somehow, part them so smoothly, that Elain didn’t notice or sense him until the side of his arm was brushing against her body.

“Nothing,” was all she answered.

A smile touched his lips at her surly attitude and he pressed,

“Can I help?”

“No!”

He smiled again and then took her basket.

“Let me carry this,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong, sunshine?”

Exasperated, she announced aggressively, “they don’t have any of the ingredients I need! I am running behind. I am hungry. Cass ate all the blackberry tarts!”

“What do you want to eat?” he asked at once.

“Nothing,” she said petulantly.

“Elain,” he prodded.

“What?” she snapped. “I don’t want anything from here. It all looks disgusting. I want toast!”

“Alright, let me get you some toast then,” he offered reasonably.

“They don’t have the toast that I want,” she argued, her lip almost wobbling from how upset she was. “I don’t want to do this birthday celebration. I want toast. I want toast with butter.”

He gently took her hand and pulled her alongside him.

“Let me get you some toast, beautiful,” he implored. “I don’t want you to be upset. It’s just bread,”

“It’s not just bread!” she stomped her foot. “I want it with butter. I want bread and butter. And I don’t want to do the birthday celebration. Rhysand doesn’t even like me,”

“That’s not true, sunshine,” Azriel argued gently, herding her away from the meat and the fish stalls. “He likes you very much,”

“No he doesn’t,” she insisted.

“He doesn’t like you with me,” he corrected. “Otherwise, he adores you.”

“So why am I baking him cakes and making him dinner if he is keeping me away from the only thing that I want in my life?”

Azriel’s sharp features softened and he stopped in the middle of the road, and gently brushed his knuckles over her cheek.

“Am I the only thing you want?”

“You know it,” she murmured, kissing the scarred skin of his hand. “The one and only.”

Azriel looked around and his eyes zoomed on the gorgeous display of fish and seafood.

“Why don’t we get a couple of these large salmon—everyone likes salmon, don’t they? Some of these scallops—Rhys’s favourite and then we can send them directly to the River Estate. And I can take you out and get you some toast,”

She considered everything he said, wrinkled her nose at the seafood, and then nodded with approval.

“With butter,” she warned.

“With butter.”

Rhysand observed the gathering in front of him.

He was seated in an armchair, his arm firmly wrapped around his mate’s hip. Feyre, gorgeous in a pale blue gown, with her long hair loose and pinned with two diamond combs, lightly stroked his hand with hers, as she laughed at something with Mor. Mor’s already had a little too much to drink, and they haven’t even had dinner yet. It was something that he and Feyre had discussed before, on many occasions—Mor’s excessive drinking, which slowly, but surely morphed into controlled alcoholism. They’d have to address it with her. Eventually. Today wasn’t the day. Tonight was for celebrations, and not accusations or revelations.

Tonight, he wanted to enjoy being with the people that he loved.

He watched Lucien and Helion from the corner of his eye—their tentative, stilted conversation, as the two of them navigated their new reality. That of a father and son.

Rhysand wasn’t surprised by the fact that the news came as a shock to them both, and they didn’t rush into each other’s embrace letting all the bygones be bygones. It would take time. It was particularly difficult for Lucien, who struggled with being the seventh son of one High Lord, to becoming the heir apparent to another Court. All the while absorbing and dealing with the betrayal of his mother, who’d made choices that affected both him, and Helion. Rhys didn’t know what to think of the Lady’s decisions. He couldn’t judge her, but he also understood Lucien’s anger, for the male suffered for most of his life for sins not of his own making.

Rhys shifted in his seat, glancing at the loud red-headed Queen, who accompanied Lucien. The male had brass balls. He had the audacity to bring his apparent lover to this dinner, knowing fully that his mate would be here as well.

Rhys’s eyes moved on to the said mate—Elain. She sat by her favourite window, on the cushioned window seat, her back straight, her long golden-brown hair loose just like Feyre. There was a frown on Elain’s beautiful face, a sneer that she was attempting to hide, but evidently forgetting that it was there—bracketing her mouth, furrowing her brow. She’s been in a mood lately. He knew that she was avoiding him, and even Feyre. She took Nyxie to his playdates and cared for him when duties called Feyre away, but she preferred to take her meals on her own, or told them that she would be dining in the city. Feyre proposed that maybe Elain had a suitor, though he found the idea preposterous.

Unsurprisingly, Azriel made a quick, but determined stroll towards the object of his obsession. God, the male could never go for an available female! First it was Morrigan, who refused his advances, for whatever unknown reason. Though Rhys suspected that Mor wouldn’t be seen with a bastard born Illyrian, and therefore, cut her losses quickly. And now it was Elain, who had a mate. There were plenty of other—available—females out there, but Azriel insisted on pining for those he couldn’t have.

Whatever. Rhysand gave him an order and that was that. Azriel took an oath and it was his duty to serve his High Lord. Do his High Lord’s bidding. Even if Rhys felt marginally bad for his brother, he also understood that politically, this was wise. Elain was not Azriel’s. She wasn’t meant for him.

He watched Azriel whisper something close to her ear, and then offered her a glass of ice water.

“Are we getting to the table any time this year?!” Cassian groaned loudly and theatrically, not waiting for anyone else, including the High Lord/birthday boy.

“You’d think you haven’t eaten for a week,” Nesta snapped at him. “Wait up and let the others sit.”

Nothing changed between these two. Ever. They bickered and taunted each other, only to fall into some rapturous sexual adventure once they jacked one another up enough to start tearing their clothes off. The pairing was not Rhys’s favourite, but it was better than Elain and Azriel.

“Sorry if I’ve been saving up for this dinner!” Cassian patted his stomach. “I bet petal’s made all kinds of delicious things.”

Elain smiled at him, though it looked more like a scowl, and then got up from her window seat, with Azriel hovering behind her like a shadow.

Rhys wondered if Azriel knew how obvious he was?

But maybe not. Because apparently, Cassian still had no idea that Azriel desired Elain.

It was…messy.

Amren took her seat first, not waiting for anyone else, as if she was the hungriest of them all. Everyone knew that she’d barely eat anything.

At last, everyone was seated behind the lavishly decorated table and Cassian began pouring wine, laughing at something with Mor.

“To another 540 years of bliss, Rhysie!” Cassian raised his glass and wrapped his heavy arm around Rhys’s shoulders. Rhys sighed and whispered, “please don’t remind me…”

“Come on, brother! You are still a spring chicken!”

“Most of the days, I feel like a well-aged rooster that’s being fattened up for the next soup,”

Elain snorted a laugh—the first genuine one that Rhys had observed from her.

Feyre got up and cupped his face in her hands, before pressing her lips softly to his.

“Happy birthday, Rhysand darling.”

“Thank you, my love. And everyone who joined me tonight. You make my life complete.”

“Completely intolerable more like,” Helion joked, raising his glass as well.

“I wasn’t going to say that…but now that you mentioned it,” Rhys smirked and sat back down.

Nuala, Cerridwen and other servants began bringing platters of food out—smoked fish, Azriel’s beloved beet salad, carefully arranged boards of cheeses, cured meats and dried fruit, spicy meatballs that both Nesta and Elain loved, bread and butter.

The conversation fell into the usual back and forth of jokes, jabs, laughter, teasing, and stories.

It was both disturbing and adorable to watch Azriel hover over Elain like a mother hen, offering her this and that, though she only picked at some salad and didn’t lose her scowly expression. Whatever was bothering her, the dinner wasn’t making it much better.

“May I have the bread?” she asked Vassa, who was nearest to the breadbasket. Before Vassa heard her, the bread was snatched away by Helion, and then went over to Feyre.

“May I have the bread please?” Elain requested again, eyeing the basket hungrily.

“Hold on one sec, petal,” Cassian reached across the table, but the corner of his jacket swiped Elain’s silverware off the table and onto the floor.

“Oh fuck!” he cried out, “sorry!”

In the commotion and all the jostling, no one noticed how Elain got up and suddenly, her voice boomed loudly, an angry note to it,

“May I have the gods-damned bread! For fuck’s sake!”

Everything and everyone came to a complete halt. Elain using her voice this loudly was unheard of. Elain cursing and using bad language was shocking.

Azriel stood up abruptly and grabbed the bread, while everyone just stared in confusion.

It was what she did after she got a thick slice of crust bread that really lived on in the family lore.

Without batting an eye, Elain clasped the hilt of Truth Teller which was attached to Azriel’s thigh and pulled it out of the sheath, slamming it into the butter dish and smearing her bread with a heaping mound of butter.

While utensils dropped and clattered on the plates and the table and everyone just stared, mouths gaping, eyes wide, she slumped back down in her chair and bit into the slice with an audible pleasure-filled ‘mmm’.

Elain Archeron just used Truth Teller, with which she killed the King of Hybern, to butter her bread.

Azriel’s only reaction was to ask ‘good?’”

“So good!” she nodded eagerly, chomping the bread down like she hasn’t eaten in a month.

Mor began choking on her salmon loudly, while Helion was slapping her back, everyone was looking around, like lost children, while Azriel tore off another generous slice of bread for Elain, who used Truth Teller to smear butter on it.

“I hope it’s disinfected,” Nesta wrinkled her nose, watching the blade spread soft butter over the bread.

“it’s fine,” Elain waved her hand. Chewing contently, she asked Mor, “are you alright?”

Mor was still gasping for air, with Feyre and Helion hovering over her, and Lucien pouring her a glass of water.

Amren was chuckling.

Rhysand was feeling perplexed. Like something was happening around him, and he didn’t understand what it was. A secret that he was not privy to.

Mor finally caught her breath, panting loudly, her beautiful face red and sweaty. She collapsed back in her chair, watching Elain and Azriel, while Elain was busy with her bread.

“What would you do if I was choking?” Elain suddenly asked with a grin, looking directly at Az.

Azriel almost choked himself on his wine and then said quickly, absently, his eyes on Mor, “Pull back a little…or release your throat,”

“Wha-?” Cassian’s eyes bugged out and the rest of the table turned to the shadowsinger now, staring at him with confusion and incomprehension.

“What are you talking about?” Feyre queried, puzzlement on her lovely, soft face. “You shouldn’t even be touching her throat if she is choking,”

Elain squirmed in her seat, her cheek bright red, and a light sheen of sweat sprung over Azriel’s temples, while Rhys’s eyes became as big as saucers.

“Feyre darling,” he reached out to drag his fingers over Feyre’s cheek. “What Az means to say is,”

“I am having a baby,” Azriel declared loudly, his voice both panicked and excited. His gaze found Elain’s wide, shocked doe eyes and he smiled at her, before saying, “Elain…Elain is having a baby. We are having a baby.”

Complete silence engulfed the air around them. Such deafening silence that everyone’s rapid breaths sounded like gongs. Amren grinned like a fiend. A deep crease originated between Nesta’s eyebrows as she glared at Azriel.

“Wait, what? I am confused,” Cassian broke the silence at last, his head pinging back and forth, seeking answers. “What baby?”

“Azriel!” Rhys rose from his chair, his look both enraged and horrified. “What did you do?!”

“Yes, I’d like to know that as well,” Lucien shrieked from the other side of the table.

Azriel gently placed his large, scarred hand over Elain’s flat belly and said,

“Save it, Rhysand,”

“Wait, I don’t understand,” Cassian repeated helplessly. “Why are you having a babe with Elain? What’s that mean? “It means,” Nesta snapped angrily, “that he impregnated Elain! That’s what it means! He took her dishonourably and,”

“Wait a minute!” Elain slapped her palm over the table, so that the dishes jumped and the glasses clanged, “he did not take me dishonourably!”

“Flower,” Azriel cautioned her gently, trying to pull her back, but she glared at them all and suddenly twisted her finger and showed the crowd a ring that adorned her finger. It was a hefty thing, with a large square sapphire and diamonds around it.

“We are married,” she said softly.

A tense beat of even more shock, more surprise, more of everything fell on the table.

In the doorway, the wraith twins stood silently, both grinning.

A whoop of such utter joy and love tore from Cassian’s lungs, as he tackled both Elain and Azriel in his massive arms, lifting them off the floor that even Rhys stopped in his tracks.

“You got your girl, Az.”

Azriel, looking emotional, nodded, pressing his face into his friend’s neck.

“I got my girl,” he confirmed breathlessly.

Cassian pulled him closer, embracing him tightly.

“The one that’s for you!”

“Yes. My girl. The only one for me.”

“We made it, brother,” Cassian gasped, tears streaming down his sharp cheekbones, as he squeezed Azriel’s face in his hands.

Azriel stepped into his brother embrace, wrapping his arms around the general, and whispered, “We made it, Cass. We really did. And now, I finally have my girl and my babe.”

Elain stood next to them, wiping her own tears, while the two greatest Illyrian warriors wrapped their arms around her, kissing the top of her head together, at once.

“Now, can someone please get my pregnant wife some toast?” Azriel asked, holding her to him, and never letting go.

#Butter My Bread #Elriel #elrielmonth2023 #Elriel fanfic #Elriel fanfiction #my writing #fluff #Elain and Azriel #Elain Archeron #Azriel #azriel and elain #elriel-month

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anonymousewrites · 7 months

Text

One Hell of a Love (Book 2) Chapter Three

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Three: One Hell of a Roommate

Summary: (Y/N) and Sebastian begin their work inside the circus but encounter a surprising individual.

“Friends! Lend me your ears! We’ve a couple of newcomers joining us today,” said Joker to the rest of the troupe.

Behind him, Sebastian, Ciel, and (Y/N) stepped out. Ciel wore a blue, black, and white costume with bows and a pirate hat. Sebastian had been lucky enough to just get to wear his suit and just changed his tie for a bow and a top hat. (Y/N)’s maid outfit had not been suitable at all, but they had been able to keep to black. They wore a black leotard with faux gemstones of black overlaid so that they shimmered as they moved, black heels, and netted stockings.

Sebastian was doing his best to not let his eyes roam—he was a professional—but (Y/N)’s figure was quite something, and as had been established, they were always attractive to Sebastian. It didn’t help that the outfit’s silhouette and show of (Y/N)’s skin and body were reminiscent of their demon form. Sebastian attempted to control his thoughts, but images of them in their demon form with him in his own continue to flit through his mind.

(Y/N) below him, cat ears twitching in pleasure while their sharp eyes try to stay open as he gave them pleasure humans could never imagine. (Y/N) above him, tail curling over him as he allowed himself vulnerability and placed himself in their power. (Y/N) with his true name on their lips as they moan and c—

“This one here in the tailcoat is Black!” introduced Joker, shaking Sebastian from his thoughts.

“I am Black. Nice to meet you,” said Sebastian, quickly collecting himself and smiling.

“Then we’ve got the acrobatic Cat,” said Joker.

(Y/N) smiled and ignored the teasing look in Sebastian’s eyes as he smirked at them when he heard their circus name.

“And this little one—” Joker gestured to Ciel “—is Smile!”

(Y/N) and Sebastian were both smothering laughs as Ciel blanched.

“Treat them well, now, alright?” said Joker.

“Come, Smile. Say hello to your seniors,” said Sebastian, stepping towards the other troupe members.

“And remember a smile,” teased (Y/N).

“I…I look forward to working with you.” Ciel forced the words out.

“C’mon Smile, smile!” cheered Joker. Ciel forced a smile, and Joker laughed. “Now I’ll give ye a quick tour. Come with me.” He led them to a collection of smaller tents. “First, these are the tents ye’ll be sleeping in. This is where the so-called ‘second-string’ members—stagehands, newcomers, and the like—live. There’s usually two or three to a tent.” He nodded to a larger tent. “And that there’s the dining tent and the tent that serves as our larder. It’s up to ye new folk to cook up the meals, too, so give it your best! The tent all the way in the back is the first-aid tent, and…” Joker showed them to a roped off area with medium-sized tents. “From ‘here on back are the private tents of the main cast.”

(Y/N) and Sebastian exchanged a look. That was where the real information would be if there was any. The “main cast” would definitely be involved with any wrongdoings of the circus if it turned out it was the cause of the children’s disappearances.

“Private tents?” said Ciel.

“Well, once ye hit it big, ye get a place to yourself.” Joker pointed to a tent. “Oh, and one more thing, that’s Snake’s tent, so ye should stay away for your own good. There are a great many poisonous snakes roaming free, so one bite, and off ye go to the other side. Snake and his slithery friends are still veeery shy, so newcomers especially should stay sharp ‘round these parts.” Joker cocked his head. “By the way, what’s become of your right eye, Smile?”

“Eh?” Ciel stammered. “Ah, this, there was an accident.”

“How sad,” said Joker genuinely. “For someone so little to have had such misfortune befall him.” Undoubtedly, Ciel’s “accident” reminded him of he and his circus troupe’s various disabilities. Joker smiled and patted Ciel’s head. “Well, everyone ‘ere’s got their own issues, so ye’ll get along just fine!”

“Yes,” Ciel forced the word out awkwardly.

“Like us, did everyone here join the troupe while the circus was making the rounds?” asked Sebastian.

“For the most part, yes, but all the first-string members come from the same town. Guess ye could say we’re all childhood friends,” said Joker.

“Childhood friends?” repeated (Y/N), raising an eyebrow. That was a promising lead.

“Yeah, but Snake’s still a rookie. He’s a genius with his snakes he is, and we were without a snake charmer at the time, so he became a member right quick,” said Joker. “If ye join the first string, ye don’t have to help with prep, and ye don’t have to worry about fighting for your meals. And ye can get your own tent. That’s why everyone does their best to get to the top, to the first string.”

Joker finished the tour where they started, at a large tent filled with various tools, acrobatic bars, and tightropes—everything a circus performer could need to practice their tricks.

“And here we are: the training grounds,” said Joker. “Newcomers train and train ‘ere with the hope of debuting in an actual performance one day. Ye must always start with the basics. Once ye’ve made quick work of your warmups, then—”

“Joker!” called Beast, entering the tent. “It’s almost time.”

“I hear ye!” Joker clapped Sebastian and (Y/N) on the back and ruffled Ciel’s hair. “Good luck to ye! I’ll see ye after my performance.” He left with a smile, and Beast tsked as she watched the three newcomers.

(Y/N), Sebastian, and Ciel began stretching to talk quietly while blending in. Well, Ciel couldn’t really stretch, but Sebastian dutifully assisted him, and (Y/N) was contorting themself into positions humans couldn’t reach (cat flexibility came in handy).

“A tent full of poisonous snakes at the entrance of the main cast’s private quarters, hm?” huffed Ciel.

“Guard snakes instead of guard dogs, eh?” said Sebastian.

“So to gain access we need to become first-string,” said (Y/N), speaking upside-down in a backbend.

“Poisonous snakes won’t kill you two,” said Ciel. “Go see whether children are here or—”

“They are not here,” said Sebastian.

“There are no children’s presences at all in the circus,” said (Y/N), kicking over to their feet and sinking into the splits.

“But we have yet to find proof that the circus has no relation to the missing children. We can’t leave until we’ve looked into all the nooks and crannies of this place,” said Ciel.

“Quite,” said Sebastian, bending Ciel over his back. “It is entirely possible that they might be in such a condition that I would be unable to sense their presence.”

“Don’t say such an ill-omened thing,” said Ciel, struggling under Sebastian as he bent over Ciel’s back. “She wishes for the children’s safe return.”

“Yes, sir,” said Sebastian.

“However, instead of the children, we did sense—” began (Y/N).

“Heeey! Ye can’t be stretchin’ all slow and steady, like, pick it up!” said Dagger, jumping towards them.

“Huh? Dagger ol’ boy, wot about yer act?” said another circus performer.

“I was up first today! I’m all done, so I’ll supervise yer practice, like.” Dagger smiled. “First, we gotta decide what’cher act’s gonna be. Requests?”

“I’m fine with anything that doesn’t involve me using my body, like the tightrope. Anything but that,” said Ciel. Sebastian and (Y/N) unsuccessfully smothered chuckles at the memory of him on the tightrope.

“Yeah, ye do look awful weak!” laughed Dagger. “Then I’ll teach Smile all ‘e needs to ‘bout knife throwin’. What about you, Black, Cat?”

“Well, I do not have any requests in particular,” said Sebastian.

“I prefer acrobatics,” said (Y/N).

“Right,” said Dagger. “Well, then, show me what ye got, and I’ll see what I think would work!”

“Let’s see…juggling,” said Sebastian, throwing bottles incredible heights as they spun through his hands at high speeds.

“Passing through a ring of fire.” (Y/N) ran up and flipped through a ring of fire with the precision and ease of a cat slipping through a fence, landing on their feet without wavering.

“Pole climbing,” said Sebastian, running up a pole at a ninety-degree angle.

“Trapeze,” said (Y/N), swinging from the bars.

Sebastian joined them, and they jumped from one bar to the other, wrapping their legs and arms around him as he showed off his strength of support both (and smirked at the sensation of (Y/N) pressed so close). (Y/N) pushed off him and flipped backwards, landing on the other bar in a show of balance and strength humans simply couldn’t master.

(Y/N) paused as they saw Beast huffing over Betty the tiger. Her act had finished, but Betty clearly still wasn’t pleased with being retrained and was being more difficult than usual. (Y/N) smirked, deciding to have a bit of fun with Beast since they needed a bit of petty revenge after Sebastian was so close to her.

“That’s hardly a way to train such an animal,” said (Y/N), approaching the cage.

“What do you know about it?!” said Beast.

“I know that this darling tiger needs some respect,” said (Y/N). They knelt and extended a hand between the bars.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?! Are you mad just like that other one?!” said Beast.

But Betty let out a light growl, as close to a purr as a tiger could get, and butted her head against (Y/N)’s hand. Beast’s jaw dropped open, as did several other people’s. (Y/N) smiled and petted the tiger, who was reacting to (Y/N)’s demon cat side.

“Sebastian, would you like to apologize for accosting Betty yesterday?” said (Y/N) teasingly.

“Of course,” said Sebastian. He eagerly walked over and began petting the tiger. He sighed happily. “So soft…So beautiful…”

(Y/N) smiled as they watched Sebastian. They were happy to make him happy. They didn’t believe there were many ways for them to show they cared for him or earn anything from him, so they did what they could. (Y/N) was blind to the fact that anything they did would be praised by Sebastian to Heaven and Hell and back.

The pair rose and returned to Dagger, who was still watching the tamed tiger in surprise.

“Wow!” said Dagger. “Ye two are something else, Black, Cat.”

“You’re overdoing it,” muttered Ciel. “You should be acting more like newcomers…”

“Don’t you want us to be first-string?” said (Y/N), smirking.

“Man! I give up! Two more mad great new fellers?! For real?! I can’t lose to ye,” laughed Dagger.

“…Another newcomer?” said Ciel.

“There’s this guy who’s just joined. ‘E’s amazin’! O’er there, on the tightrope,” said Dagger. “He used to be a civil servant or something’ and is serious like ye wouldna believe!”

And above them, in a brightly colored suit and holding a tree trimmer as he walked across the tightrope, stood the exact being (Y/N) and Sebastian had sensed at the circus. Their gaze darkened, and Ciel’s eyes widened.

“Heey! C’mon down ‘ere fer a bit!” called Dagger. “Suit!”

William the Grim Reaper glanced down. He sighed. “I thought I sensed something unpleasant. It was you two, was it? Good grief.” His Death Scythe extended and stabbed the ground beside Sebastian and (Y/N). “I never thought we would meet again. Goodness. What ever did you come sniffing around to devour this time?” He leapt down and pointed his Death Scythe at Sebastian’s neck. Sebastian shifted before (Y/N), unconsciously blocking them from any initial attack. “You demons!”

“Demon…?” said Dagger, perplexed, as people murmured in confusion.

“In this day and age, when there are rarely enough Grim Reapers to get the job done even at the best of times, the appearance of a demon, let alone two, means I shan’t be able to clock out on time yet again,” said William.

“Grim Reaper?” Dagger cocked his head.

Damn, they’re true identities! “N-No, he’s just—!” Ciel floundered for an explanation.

Dagger laughed and smacked William. “That’s enough o’ that, me big fore-‘eaded friend! Ye said it with such a serious mug, I couldna tell ye were jokin’!”

Ciel breathed a sigh of relief. (Y/N) wasn’t surprised at Dagger’s obliviousness. Humans would ignore the truth whenever they could.

“Been shootin’ off strange jokes from day one, ‘e ‘as!” said Dagger. “’E’s always goin’ on ‘bout souls and the like, and ‘e’s mad fer anythin’ to do wiv ‘em ghosts ‘n stuff.”

“I am not one for joking,” said William.

“I’ll introduce ye,” said Dagger, ignoring William. “These’re the rookies who joined today. The tiny’ sone’s Smile. The big one’s Black. The pretty one is Cat. Yer all risin’ stars, so play nice now!”

William turned away. “I do not, by any means, wish to make nice with noxious beasts.”

“ ‘By any means’?! C’mon, teamwork’s important in the circus, ye know!” said Dagger.

“Why is a Grim Reaper here…?” said Ciel.

“It’s unusual for a Grim Reaper to go about snooping of his own accord,” said Sebastian.

“And that one isn’t like you-know-who,” said (Y/N). Sebastian nodded. William wasn’t Grell. They were pretty much as different as Grim Reapers could get.

“But now we can be sure of one thing,” said Sebastian. “There is something going on at this circus after all.”

“Looks like he’s worth investigating,” said Ciel. “Sebastian.”

“ ‘Eeey! What are ye doin’, Smile?! Ye gotta practice, practice, so ye don’t lose out to Black!” said Dagger, looping an arm around Ciel. He dragged him away with promises of teaching him knife tricks.

Sebastian and (Y/N) stepped towards William as he made to go back up to the tightrope.

“Pardon me, there is a little something I would like you to tell me, ‘Old-timer,’ ” said Sebastian.

“I have nothing to say to you,” said William.

“Please do not be like that,” said Sebastian, grabbing William’s wrist.

(Y/N) smiled pleasantly. “Let’s step outside.”

William tsked but stepped out of the training tent. “Really,” he said. “On top of the London district being perpetually understaffed so that I, a member of management, must go out into the field to retrieve souls simply because the retrieval division is missing one employee…What a travesty.”

“So, what brings such a busy Grim Reaper as yourself to a place like this?” said Sebastian.

“I’m here cleaning up after that scum dispatch member who is currently suspended,” said William.

Grell is always getting into trouble, isn’t she? thought (Y/N).

“I didn’t think I would be made to do so just because that bother and I are coworkers…and without any extra pay, at that,” said William.

“Well, there must be something pretty special going on here if a reaper is investigating covertly,” said (Y/N).

“I cannot give information pertaining to souls to fiends,” said William. “It amounts to throwing a rabbit in front of a carnivore.”

“I doubt any souls around here are appetizing to me,” said (Y/N).

“I am afraid that I as well have no interest in cheap souls,” said Sebastian.

“Big talk for a starving demon,” said William. “When the reality is that you’re mad with hunger.”

Sebastian smirked, teeth sharp, and spoke with a low voice, demonic aura seeping into it. “I grew weary of indiscriminately devouring souls long ago. The more ravenous I am…the more delicious the dinner.”

(Y/N) had been taught that by him, and they grinned in agreement.

“Moreover,” continued Sebastian, slipping his glove half off to reveal the contract seal that thrummed with magic. “As I have a collar around my neck at the moment, you have nothing to fear.”

“From you, perhaps.” William eyed (Y/N), whose own contract mark would not show a connection to a demon since they had no master at the moment. “I don’t trust when your kind is wild.”

“As I said, I’m not interested in any souls around here,” said (Y/N). “Sebastian can tell you that I have a refined palate.”

“Indeed,” said Sebastian.

He had long ago given up showing (Y/N) other souls to form a contract with, even just to learn. From the moment they had been reborn as a demon, all they wanted was the pleasure of consuming a soul that found power, particularly those that found power over others who abused their own influence. Sebastian had never learned why they drifted to such souls and found themself satiated with that particular contract, but he suspected their mortal life played a factor.

Although most of their memories had been forgotten in time, certain characteristics remained branded on their demonic aura, as if their soul had burned into them as they died and reminded them of what they desired. Sebastian knew they radiated a demonic aura that echoed the vestiges of a human soul that had reached maturity and achieved its ambitions before death. He was curious and desired to understand more of (Y/N)’s very self, but he refrained from ever asking, both when he was their mentor and now when he loved them.

He would not risk their trust in him by prying. When they were his apprentice, it had become clear (Y/N) gained power when they consumed the souls that suited them and found the contracts easy for them to handle. And now, with Sebastian’s feelings for them having developed into love, it would be a greater victory in his quest to win their affections if they were to share themself. He would not force them into vulnerability. He respected and loved them too much for that.

William gazed at Sebastian and (Y/N) before tsking. “Very well. Since you have the honor of being the greatest of evils to appear before I get to work, let me warn you. We, the Grim Reapers, are tasked with judging those who are scheduled to die according to the Soul Retrieval List that is distributed to us. We use our Death Scythes to check each person’s memories—their Cinematic Records—one by one…and judge whether they deserve to die or not. And without understanding the great effort we put forth, you demons go about snacking away at those souls like ravens on a corpse. Let me be blunt. A few days hence, we will judge a large number of souls in this vicinity. This is a special case, so please refrain from interfering.”

“Goodness, and you have to deal with it all on your own? How terrible,” said (Y/N). “Still, a large number of souls…” They smirked and teased William. “Shall I lend you a hand?”

William’s Death Scythe whipped out towards them, and (Y/N) leaned to the side to avoid it. “I refuse to work overtime free of charge,” he said. “I will hunt you down if you get in my way.”

“What a temper for someone so serious,” said (Y/N), grinning at how easily they had riled him up. “You forgot so quickly I have no interest in any of the souls here. Or, in fact, of being involved with Grim Reapers.”

“Hey!” Ciel stepped outside the tent. “That nosy knife-thrower is looking for you."

William glanced at Ciel. “He doesn’t seem all that high-quality to me. I truly don’t understand you demons…”

“You,” said Ciel harshly. “Stop calling Sebastian and (Y/N) that. What are you going to do about it if the troupe members get suspicions? We were lucky they thought you were just joking before, but the fact you can’t even blend in among people makes you lower than that vulgar reaper.”

“Indeed. As we will not get in the way of your duties, we hope that you will not get in the way of ours,” said Sebastian.

“Thank you. I do not even want you in my field of vision,” said William.

“Then we’ll all leave each other alone,” said (Y/N).

“Right then, Smile,” said William. “I’m counting on you to hold your dog’s lead tight.” He glanced distastefully at (Y/N). “And someone keep an eye on the wild one.”

“I don’t want to hear it from specs, who can’t even manage a covert investigation properly,” said Ciel.

“I am not Specs. I am Suit,” said William.

“Come on, Sebastian, (Y/N),” said Ciel, turning away.

“Yes, sir,” said (Y/N).

“Yes, Young Master,” said Sebastian.

Inside the tent, Joker was rounding up all the rookies. “There they are! Now here’s what ye’ve been waiting for! Time to announce room assignments for the rookies! The results of the impartial lottery are as follows—Smile will be in tent eight. This is your roommate.” He gestured to a sweet looking boy with red-brown hair and freckles.

“Black is in tent nine,” said Joker.

“Seb—Black and I won’t be in the same tent?” said Ciel nervously.

“Ahaha! Smile sure is sweet on Black! Ya gotta learn to be more independent,” teased Dagger.

“And Black’s roommate is—Suit!” announced Joker. William and Sebastian’s eyes widened in horror. “And then we’ve also got Cat in tent nine!” Joker glanced at (Y/N). “It’s a three-person tent, and hopefully you’re alright with rooming with men since we weren’t sure what you’d prefer.”

(Y/N) forced a smile. They were happy to room with Sebastian, but the Reaper? They were not pleased. “Yes, it’s alright.”

Joker grinned. “We knew it! Black ‘n Smiles ‘n Cat were already friends so we thought it would work out!”

“Guess we’re outta here!” said Dagger. “Righty, sleep tight!”

They left the tent with Sebastian, (Y/N), and William glaring at each other, Ciel looking horrified at staying with a stranger, and the boy with freckles smiling brightly.

“This is the worst,” said William.

“My thoughts exactly,” said Sebastian.

“How unlucky,” muttered (Y/N).

“Nice to meetcha, Smile!” said the freckled boy brightly.

“Right…” said Ciel.

(Y/N), Sebastian, and William entered tent nine. There was a bunk bed on one side and a single bed across from it with a small path between.

“I will take the upper bed,” said William. “You, Black, will sleep on the lower.” He glanced at (Y/N). “I prefer a collared beast to a wild one being near.” (Y/N) grinned to show their sharp canines. “Let me make one thing clear from the outset. Unlike demons, Grim Reapers need to sleep. Don’t make noises late at night and disturb my rest.” He climbed up into his bunk.

“My kind does enjoy sleep as a luxury, however,” said Sebastian.

(Y/N) nodded. “I like the occasional rest after a particularly good meal~.”

“A catnap?” remarked Sebastian impishly

(Y/N)’s nose twitched as he teased them.

“You two are disgusting,” said William, rolling over to ignore them and what he (correctly) assumed was demonic flirting.

Sebastian lay awake as the moon hung over the tent. He and (Y/N) had attempted to stand and investigate, but Sebastian had nearly gotten pierced by William’s Death Scythe for trying to “wander without his Master.” So, Sebastian and (Y/N) were forced to either sleep for luxury or lay in their beds, bored.

Sebastian rolled over from where he lay stiffly on his back and gazed at (Y/N). They faced away from him, the space between the beds small enough that Sebastian would easily be able to reach over to them. As the moon filtered through the flaps of the tent, Sebastian watched it highlight the slope of (Y/N)’s body. And he found himself wanting to hold them, lovingly. He could imagine enjoying the luxury of sleep with his arms around them and them curled up against him.

Sebastian wanted that, wanted them and that love.

And so, even as he didn’t sleep, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to imagine loving them in all the ways he wanted.

(Y/N) didn’t dare turn around to face Sebastian. It would be too obvious, then, that they sought him out, and if Sebastian didn’t reciprocate their love, it would hurt. So (Y/N) stayed frozen on their side, wondering what Sebastian was thinking of. Because (Y/N)’s mind was filled with him. How safe they felt beside him. Any other demon or even man and (Y/N) would immediately request another tent, one with a woman, instead. Much more trustworthy.

But Sebastian? (Y/N) trusted him. He had never pushed their boundaries, even when he was mentoring them. When they made it clear they had some lines they didn’t want crossed (touch had been a prominent issue for quite some time), Sebastian had respected them and allowed them to bend and learn at their own pace. He pushed just enough to get them stronger but never made them break and feel vulnerable.

That was probably when (Y/N) first started getting attached to Sebastian. They had been wary when he first became their mentor, suspicious of his intentions as a demon, even if they were a demon themself. They had known far too many men of that kind to not be wary. But Sebastian had proven himself from the beginning. He had been strict with his teaching and made sure (Y/N) became a capable demon. He didn’t take advantage of them. He had respected them.

(Y/N) just hoped that he’d come to love them, too.

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ask-louis-bonnet · 2 months

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What kinds of insects would your family members be?

a very important question!

this is a fun ask

As i’ve said before, my mom is a picasso bug

very pretty and very artsy, but don’t be fooled by the colors. Usually bugs with really pretty colors mean “don’t mess with me, i’m poisonous! or i atleast taste really really bad!” the picasso bug is no different.

Doug wouldn’t be a dung beetle, tho that would be a funny pun,

He’d be a larder beetle. These guys usually come into a home when there is an absence of a life that was there originally but had since died out or decayed. it also kinda looks like it’s wearing his outfit :)

Stede would be a

a blue rose/flower chafer. these guys are very pretty, and love flowers. Stede likes flowers too. unfortunately, these guys are often removed from a lot of places because they shouldn’t be there, because they love flowers but end up accidentally hurting them (chafing them.)

Ed would definitely be

A deaths head hawk moth. these guys look really scary, and they even have a skull on their back, but if you really get close you’ll find out that these guys are actually wide eyed and very fluffy. cute little bugs

Alma would definitely be

a bee! specifically these metallic sweat bees. very kind insects but also very protective. most female bees are very valiant fighters and have a pretty nasty sting if they feel threatened. but ultimately hard workers who protect their hive against any invaders or threateners.

Evelyn would definitely be

a ladybird spider. these guys copy an elegant ladybug in a mimicry, all so their prey can get close enough for them to secrete their venom to feast on them. really cool, and evelyn wears a lot of red too.

Melvin would be a big eyed ant.

(i cant add an image :( )

very hard workers and loyal to their queens. also diligent!

#ask louis bonnet #ofmd #louis bonnet #our flag means death #stede bonnet #ed teach #mary allamby bonnet #doug #alma bonnet #evelyn higgins #melvin higgins

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written-in-flowers · 1 year

Text

Fly Away: Pt. 8

Pairing: Young!Aemond x Young!Velaryon!Reader | Side pairing: Rhaenyra x Alicent, Aegon x Helaena

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Au: friends to lovers, childhood love, incest (duh), slight homophobia expressed, repressed feelings, mutual pining, teenage runaways, mentions of bullying, arrange marriages

Word Count: 9k

Summary: Young love overcomes all in a family full of broken bonds and broken hearts. When Princess Y/N Velaryon and Prince Aemond Targaryen are discovered missing from their beds, their mothers must come together to find them. The search might do more for their families than a mere marriage pact can.

A/N: want to clarify now that we stick with young!Aemond throughout the story. Ewan’s Aemond comes in at the very end. This is mainly done starting a bit before The Princess and the Queen and a little bit after the events at Driftmark. I do pull some scenes from the show, but it remains relatively loose throughout. Want to also point out that The Dance doesn’t happen in this universe, so...happy ending expected, because we need more of those.

Taglist: @yitish, @imjustboredso, @dangerousbluebirdpoetry, @discowizard88, @mddieeunson , @caramelcandescence, @bookwhoresthings , @astrumark, @minteaspoon @eddiemunsonsgroupie @miraclealignertlsp369 @aemond-targaryenx @afro-hispwriter

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***

Aemond checked the few snares he’d placed along the way back to the cabin, and managed to get another rabbit from one. He told you about a larder he’d found outside the house, where the family must’ve stored their meats. Once they've cooked the meat, it’ll be safe to store there for a time. Aemond remembered Ser Criston having a similar technique, and thought it was safe to use here. It’d be helpful to not be hunting every day; it was precious time he could be spending by your side instead.

The smile never fully left his face, making his cheeks hurt and strain from it. The darkening skies caused him to finally stop kissing you. He did not go any further, however. The only thing he kept thinking about were your words; the way you’d said them with such certainty. He’d thought his eye may keep you from him forever, but today you proved the opposite. You stood before a heart tree and spoke your vows to him in front of gods. Neither of you followed said gods, but did that really matter? You both kept your promises to one another in your hearts; your spirits binded themselves together underneath the shade of the blood-red leaves.

Returning to the cabin as the skies grew darker, he mentally took account of everything you’d gathered. Besides the onions and potatoes from home, you had found patches of vegetation that grew wild over the decades: blueberries, clovers, dandelions, mint leaves, and rosemary. Pine cones were scattered on the ground, so they’d been collected as well. You had no idea what to do with them, but they’d been in your book. They wouldn’t use everything tonight, since you’d plucked plenty for other dinners, but you’d eat well tonight. You are not the best of cooks, but you said that you liked making food for Aemond. It makes you feel like a “real wife” despite knowing that is not a woman’s only role. He enjoyed getting the food for you, and helping you prepare it by skinning and gutting the animal.

“We were gone longer than I’d thought,” Aemond said, reaching the threshold of the cabin’s proximity. “The sun’s about to go down. We should get the fire going.”

“Right.”

The island looked small in the sky, but you’d both learned it is quite vast. Beyond the little village and ship docks, there is nothing but an endless forest. He’s certain you’d hardly scratched the surface of the remote place. As he sat down outside the back door, the designated skinning and gutting area, you unloaded your satchel inside. Aemond watched you pick up dusty jars and bottles from a shelf near the fireplace. They’d been one of the few things that seemed salvageable in the cabin. While he patched up holes in the cabin with leaves and wood, you’d cleaned them out for proper use. As he made a slit in his kill, you saw you fill the jars with your findings. The remaining vegetables went into a crate near the fireplace, and the last of your bread sat in a basket. He knew the last piece resembled a rock by now, since you had no way of keeping it fresh.

“Aemond?” you called to him.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to go into the village again?”

Aemond stopped cutting into the rabbit’s fur, “What for?”

“I want to see if we can find food there.”

“Y/N, the village is old. I doubt anything we find will be useful or edible. Neither of us can afford to become ill.” He started peeling the rabbit’s skin from its body, the familiar squelching noise breaking the silence. You pointedly looked away, and he snorted amusedly. “There is nothing in the village. Everything we need is in the forest behind us.”

You accepted his answer, then began working on starting a fire in the hearth. Aemond thought back to the tablet and charcoal pieces he kept hidden in his bag. A perfect wedding gift for his beautiful bride, he decided. He finished stripping and hollowing out the carcass, and skewered it through a metal stick to hang over the fire. Ser Criston used to sit next to it, occasionally pouring the fat drippings to keep it juicy. He did the same, enjoying the warmth and your company in the meantime. It felt like a dream. You are his wife. You loved him. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at you at the nearby table. You’d decided to chop the onion and one potato to put in a pot for rabbit soup. Whether it’d taste good was yet to be seen, but he didn’t mind so much. Knowing you’d made it meant a lot to him.

“I think I might make a fishing rod,” he said when you came to him with a pot of water and your vegetables. “That way we aren’t always eating rabbit.”

“I can find a way to grow food here by the cabin,” you replied. “A woman from the village used to grow her own food near her home.”

“Would that work?”

“I don’t know. I can still try.” You looked into your pot, “We will need more water. We only have one skin left and half a bucket. We should have gotten water by the river.”

“I will go in the morning.” He held your hand for a while, putting more fat over the rabbit and listening to it sizzle. It smelled wonderful. “Do you want to read tonight or should I?”

“I like it when you read,” you smiled at him.

“Then I shall.”

Oh, what he wouldn’t do to keep you happy. Aemond planted a kiss on your lips, letting it linger before breaking away. You smiled and put your head on his shoulder. The dread did not touch him right now. That crippling sensation that they’d eventually be found, broken apart to never see one another again did not breach his thoughts. He knew once his mother found him, she’d make sure he never escaped again. She’d betroth and marry him to some noblewoman far away, forever barring him from being with you. Your mother will undoubtedly marry you off once you return home; possibly to a Stark or a lord far from the south. But, right now, that mattered very little. Sitting beside his wife by the fire, feeling her fingers lightly trace patterns on his forearm and occasionally being kissed by her, the outside world faded. The couple entered a place completely their own, and he’d live in it as long as possible.

After you put the soup to boil, the rabbit pieces floating inside, Aemond walked over to his satchel by the edge of the bed. “I have something for you,” he said, finding the tablet and charcoal inside. “It’s customary for a groom to give his bride a present, and I waited for the right time.”

“A present? Aemond, you did not have to,” you smiled.

“I did,” he said. “Close your eyes.” He returned to your side once you closed your eyes. He placed the wooden tablet, parchment, and sack in front of you. “Open them.”

When you looked down, your smile warmed his heart. “Oh Aemond,” you sighed, picking up the slate, “Where did you find this?”

“In the market with Aegon.” He refused to bring up that it’d been after their night in the brothel. “There was a vendor selling all kinds of different things, and I saw this,” he gestured to the tablet, “And thought you might enjoy using it. I brought more paper too for when you run out.”

“Thank you,” you beamed, holding the slate to your chest, “I love it.” You then frowned, “But, I did not get you a gift.”

“You becoming my wife is already enough for me,” he replied in a smile. “I wanted to give you something you’d use, and I thought this would be perfect.”

“It is.”

You bent forward and kissed him. Out of habit, he brought you closer to deepen it. The urge to kiss you like he’d done in the godswood crossed his mind, but he forced himself to stop.

“We should go into the village tomorrow, like you suggested,” he said, breaking the kiss. “Not for food, but to look around and see if there is anything useful there. It’d be good for us to get out of here and do something fun. Maybe then find our dragons, and we can fly together for a while.”

“That sounds nice,” you nodded, kissing him again.

He’d never felt happier.

***

Alicent’s muscles remained so tense throughout the flight that they burned. The terrifying thought of somehow slipping from Rhaenyra, off the saddle and into the open air crossed her mind several times. She’d felt fearful when riding with Aegon, who’d kept Sunfyre straight and steady to keep her at ease, and the fear came back now. Yet, her fingers digging into Rhaenyra’s leather coat, feeling her torso pressed against her’s, and her silver hair brushing into her cheek, it lessened over time. She closed her eyes, and the daydreams from long ago returned.

‘I don’t care about that anymore. I love you, Alicent. It is you that I want; not the Throne or the Crown or the Seven Kingdoms. It is you I wish to be with like I said: fly away across the sea, seeing the wonders of the world and eating cake.’

The memory returned once again, stinging as badly as they’d done every other time. It’d come to her vividly. She’d been sitting up in her bed, her curls a mess and wearing her thin nightgown, looking at Rhaenyra in the near darkness. Rhaenyra’s hair shone in the moonlight; her eyes sparkled with hope and determination as she spoke. Alicent knew them to be true; she’d admitted them to herself. Flying through the orange and blue skies, she imagined what it’d look like if she’d gone. If she’d forgotten her father’s warnings and threats…if she hadn’t cared about what others believed…if she’d let go of every fear and doubt in her mind and given into her desires for once. Alicent blinked back tears. She’d once told Rhaenyra she’d go wherever her beloved went, whispering them between kisses in the sand. But she had not. She’d let fear stop her.

‘But, Father, I love her!’

She’d declared it so loudly then, sobbing and pleading with her father to understand. It left a swelling in her throat. He’d told her that her ‘infatuation’ will eventually pass; she’d come to see he was right in the end. Deep down, Alicent knew he’d rather burn the world than let people believe a Hightower committed a sin. She’d held her tongue, swallowed her feelings, and continued living behind a mask. She married the king, gave him children and did her duty to her house. All the while, her beloved slipped through her fingers like silk.

Alicent opened her eyes to see the sun setting on the horizon. How long had they been flying? Syrax will surely need to settle somewhere soon. She took in the fading gradients of the sky, the orange and yellow giving way to the black and blue of night. Alicent worried they may not find any of their children tonight, and be forced to turn back or go off course. She dared to gaze below, and finally saw it. A single ship stood out in the expanse of dark ocean below. Squinting to see through the clouds, she saw it sailed unaccompanied by other ships. It appeared to be heading in the same direction as them, rather than moving out of the bay.

“Who is that?” she said in Rhaenyra’s ear, pointing a shaking finger at the ship.

Rhaenyra took her eyes off the path to look. She guided Syrax out of the clouds, and halfway to the water. Both women then recognized the silver seahorse against aquamarine sails of House Velaryon. Lord Corlys must be setting out to find you and Aemond as well. You are his granddaughter after all. To add more suspicion, they heard a faint screech in the distance. Small and slender, another dragon flew on the other side of the ship. Baela and her dragon, Moondancer.

It truly is all hands on deck in this search.

“I’ll go lower, then he’ll see us!” Rhaenyra called over her shoulder, “Hold on!”

Alicent let out a small scream as Syrax suddenly moved further down, her body being several feet from the water. They came up beside the ship, where they spotted several hanging lanterns lighting the deck. Alicent leaned a bit farther to see the imposing figure of Lord Corlys standing on the top of the deck, steering the helm himself towards the island. He turned his head at the approach of Syrax, and noticed Rhaenyra and Alicent riding her. Too far to exchange words, all the lord did was point ahead and nodded. They are going in the right direction.

“Aegon?!” Alicent called out to him, hoping she was close enough for him to hear.

He pointed upwards, and then forward again. Good, he’d seen them then. Another screech above told them Moondancer had flown ahead. Rhaenyra lifted the reins and Syrax turned back up into the skies. She prayed to The Mother silently.

‘Please, Mother, protect our children and keep them safe. My children are all I truly have. Please, let them be well.’

“There!” Rhaenyra gasped after a long while. “It’s there!”

Alicent peeked over her shoulder to see a dark mass not too far away. It was larger than she’d imagined, with a long and wide stretch of forest around most of it. She could not see much else through the night time sky. The island was devoid of any light or life. A sense of dread came back to her. What if they’d gotten to the wrong place? What if the children aren’t here? Alicent clung tightly to Rhaenyra, who placed a hand on the one on her stomach. She almost melted from the comfort. In the night, she spotted several dragons of varying sizes flying away from the southern corner of the island. They dropped down on the sandy beach, their bodies making shapes in the white sand. Rhaenyra circled the area for a place to land, finally finding one towards the shore in the shallows. Alicent felt the soreness in her limbs again, not wanting to move from the position on the saddle.

But, the sight of a silver-blond figure broke her from her seat.

“Aegon Targaryen!” she bellowed, sliding off the dragon saddle and into the water. It splashed against her ankles, and soaked her slippers. She did not care. Her fury boiled up to her cheeks as she stomped through the waves, “Aegon Targaryen, what in the Seven Hells do you think you are doing here?!”

“I have come to look for Aemond, Mother!” he remarked, neither stepping back nor meeting her.

“On your own?! Without any aid?!” she came right up to him, the fading sun giving her enough light to see him. “Do you realize how reckless this was? You had no idea the precise coordinates of this place. You might’ve been flying in the wrong direction, or gotten lost. You should have waited until we’d come up with a plan.”

“You were taking too long.” Aegon rarely spoke back to her in these moments, yet Alicent could not help admiring him. He stood straight with his shoulders back, staring hard back at her. “Aemond could be injured or sickly, and you and Rhaenyra were standing around a bunch of old maps. Forgive me, Mother,” he softened, “I knew you’d be worried but the longer we waited, the more likely something could happen to him.”

His softness simmered her anger. She knew his true reason for wanting to find Aemond first, and understood it. She nodded, “I only worried for you.” She hugged him tightly, taking in the scent of him like she’d done in his infancy. “You and your siblings are all I have,” she admitted in a whisper. “I…I cannot lose you.”

“I know, Mother.”

He hugged her back, then released her. Helaena stood nearby, and embraced her as well. At least they were safe. She thanked The Mother.

“Jacaerys! Lucerys!” She heard Rhaenyra’s anger match her own. “I told you both to stay in the castle! This place can be dangerous!”

“We wanted to find Y/N,” Jace replied. “We could not wait any longer.”

“This was entirely foolish of you,” she looked at the others near her, “Foolish of all of you. If you’d waited, we could have built a strategy and flown here together.”

She ran her hand through Jace’s hair, then brought him to her side. She did the same with Luke. Alicent heard muffled words from both boys, who no doubt apologized for upsetting her. Alicent then turned to Aegon, “It appears my son is the leader of this little rescue group. What was your plan exactly?”

Aegon paused. He did not have one. “I thought of us splitting up in pairs to find them.”

“In a place as large as this one?”

“We’d use our dragons.”

“In the darkness?”

He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “Well…”

“We need to burn torches if we are to start searching,” Rhaenyra came up to them with her boys. “Lord Corlys is on his way with Baela. I’m certain he has brought more men with him. Knowing Laenor,” she looked at Alicent, “He would have followed us with Ser Criston; that’ll add more people to the party.”

“So, you suggest more patience, a thing we’ve had so little of these days?” Alicent responded.

“There is not much we can do safely. I’d rather we stay together until Lord Corlys arrives. He is not too far, so I suspect he’ll be here by morning.”

“We’ve brought food and water,” Luke said from Rhaenyra’s side.

“Yes, and bed rolls to sleep on in case we did not find them by daybreak,” added Jace.

“Wine, Mother?” Aegon offered her his wineskin. Alicent looked at the skin, then her son. An olive branch, she assumed. She took it, uncorked the stopper and gulped some. A drink might calm her nerves, which buzzed enough to shake her bones. “Jace, Luke and I will set up a fire,” he told her, putting the cork back on for her. “You can divide up the provisions and Helaena and Rhaenyra can send off the dragons. They can patrol the skies for right now.”

Alicent did not disagree. Dividing food and supplies gave her mind something to do while she impatiently waited for Lord Corlys. Everyone went their separate ways to their various tasks. They’ve managed to end up where Aemond is. If the Seven favored her, he might end up wandering into the camp and she can take him home.

And then what? Lock him in the highest tower forever? He’d resent her for the rest of their lives if she did that. As she unloaded the sacks the children brought with them, she pictured herself in Aemond’s shoes. Well, she’d once been in them. Her son mustered the courage she never had. He’d left everything and everyone he knew to begin a new life in an unfamiliar place with his beloved. Yes, you are his beloved. He’d said so in all the letters he’d written you. Aemond wrote poem and poem declaring his love; he’d written at length about how being without you tortured him. She’s certain you’d responded the same way. How could she ruin that? She’d be no better than her father.

“You should take off your shoes.” Rhaenyra appeared beside her, spreading a blanket to place the food on. “They’re soaked from the water.”

Alicent wiggled her toes in her wet shoes and stockings. She should’ve been more careful where she dismounted. Alicent kicked them off, along with her stockings. They’d dry on their own soon enough. Quietly busying herself with the provisions, she thought back to what Rhaenyra told her. Her children will be safe. She’d be safe. She caught sight of Aegon lighting a fire. He is the challenge. Many people said Viserys should have named him heir at birth, but he never did. He feared losing his daughter. If Rhaenyra wanted to remain uncontested, she’d need to remove any other claimants.

Rhaenyra wouldn’t.

She’d never hurt her children. The moment in Driftmark made them both lose sense and sight. If they’d talked alone without interference from her father and husband, they might have found common ground. But, she’d let years of resentment and loss and longing start an inferno in her heart. She told herself over and over that Rhaenyra’s blatant treason was what upset her. That she’d committed adultery, mothering bastards with Harwin Strong, and subsequently putting her life at risk. But, turning to look at Rhaenyra, feeling her close and working together, she accepted the truth at last. It had not been the treason that could cost Rhaenyra her life if revealed. It had not been Viserys’s blindness or his unconditional love and favor for his daughter.

It’d been because Rhaenyra chose Harwin.

She’d shut Alicent out once she became her stepmother, and walked into the strong arms of Harwin. Even if undercover, she’d given her heart and soul to Harwin. She’d taken it from Alicent that night and given it to him.

“Did you love him?” she heard herself ask before she could stop.

“What?” Rhaenyra heard her. She had to be in their close proximity, but it was a ruse. It was a chance to retract the question.

“Did you love him? Rhaenyra, did you love him?”

She did not answer immediately. Alicent watched her carefully place a bundle of apples in one corner, arranging them without thinking. She saw the wheels turning. Rhaenyra bit the inside of her cheek, a thing she often did when in thought. Alicent saw the answer in her hands. Yes, she had.

“I did,” she finally said, the words staying between them and not floating away. “He came into my life during a very vulnerable time. He sensed my loneliness, my sadness, and lifted me from it. I felt trapped, and he comforted me. I did not feel lost with Harwin. I felt safe and secure in my position at home; I felt I could go onwards with him by my side.”

Alicent turned away. A hollow feeling buried itself into her chest. She’d been that person once, and she’d betrayed her. She’d set aside a sack of berries when Rhaenyra’s hand stopped her. When she looked up, she saw tears in the princess’s eyes.

“I went to him because I’d lost you,” she whispered. “I’d lost you to my father…to the kingdom…to your father,” her voice hissed at the last word. “When you married my father, I resented you because you lied to me. You never told me about your meetings, or that you’d seduced my father into loving you-”

“-I did not ‘seduce’ your father. It was the ambition of my father who’d pushed me into your father. He…” she paused, taking a breath, “He wanted so badly to have a grandchild on the throne, he sacrificed me. In turn, I sacrificed the things I’d held so dear to me; I casted them aside for a ‘greater purpose’.” She thought back to her father telling her to comfort the king after his wife’s death. She knew his plan then, but young Alicent only obeyed her father’s orders. “I’d hoped your father would not favor me. I hoped he’d still see me as his daughter’s childhood companion, a girl not much older than her. I prayed, even, that he chose Laena Velaryon over me. He’d gain more from her than from me. But, my father’s plan worked. Your father chose me for his wife, and…And I lost you.”

“Why did you not tell me?”

“I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you every time we went to the strawberry patch in the gardens; I wanted so badly to reveal it to you, but I feared the outcome.” She rested her hands in her lap, starting to pick at the skin on her nail beds. She carved into it with her nail, pushing the skin away from the nail. It hurt a bit, but it did not bother her. “I feared what might happen if we’d been discovered by the wrong person. My father told me what they’d done to Ser Hoster when they found him abed with his squire. I’ve heard the things people say about your husband, and what’ll occur if it ever came to light. I was scared, Rhaenyra,” she could not look at her. Tears stung her eyes, adding to the self-mutilation on her fingers. “I was scared just as I am now.”

“I did not know then,” Rhaenyra said. “I thought you’d done it on purpose, to hurt me for some reason unknown to me. Perhaps, deep down in my silly dreams, I’d hoped we could still be together somehow, some way. But, knowing you’d married my father and he’d bedded you…I do not know, it…It sickened me.” She took Alicent’s hand to stop her picking. “Then, after Daemon returned from the Stepstones, I saw your unhappiness and knew I’d caused a portion of it. When you told me people only saw you as The Queen,” she caressed Alicent’s hand, fingers underneath her wrist, “I hoped we could mend what splintered.”

“Then you came to me in my bed, and once again…” she sniffled, “My fear kept me from going with you.”

“And my love for you kept me there.”

Alicent looked at her with teary eyes. She clutched Rhaenyra’s wrist, turning slightly to face her. “We’re both mothers,” she began, “And we love our children. We’d do anything for them.” She rubbed her wrist, wanting to touch and feel her like before. She worried if she stopped, Rhaenyra would disappear. “Forgive me, Rhaenyra. Forgive me for all of it? For every disparaging remark or thinly veiled insult? For demanding your son’s eye in return for Aemond’s? For destroying…” she took a deep breath, “For destroying us. Do you forgive me for destroying us?”

“You did not destroy us. I did.” She touched her back, and it melted everything inside her. “I did the night your boy lost his eye.” She sniffled, “Y/N implored me to speak with you after it happened. She said it could be mended if we’d both spoken in private; if we’d truly aired our feelings and discussed them. But, I’d been too stubborn and hurt to approach you. After what you’d said to me, after the knife slipped, I did not know if it was possible.” Their eyes met again, “Years of jealousy, betrayal, and bitterness have built up this wall between us that made you feel so unreachable. That wall was put there by both of us, and the world in which we live in. So much…So much ripped us apart, I did not know if it could ever be restored.”

“I’d been too wrapped in my grief and worry for my son that the thought did not occur to me. What I said that night…Forgive me for it. Please.”

“You did not lie. I know my father’s favor is what keeps my sons and myself alive. I abused it that night. I needed to protect my sons; protect them from the whispers being spread about them. I should never have asked Aemond to be questioned, but you must understand, my sons…Their lives would be in danger if the truth ever came out.”

“Why, Rhaenyra?” she asked. “You knew your indiscretion with Harwin could put your life at risk; your sons’ lives at risk. Why?”

She shook her head, “I cannot honestly say. I loved Harwin. I did not wish for it to happen, but it did, and I have no regrets. Harwin gave me three beautiful sons, whom I love more than my own life.” She then asked, “Did you fear for your childrens’ lives, Alicent? Is that why you advocated for Aegon to be heir for so long? You know your son is not fit for the throne. This little stunt of his does not prove he could be-”

“-Of course I fear for them. I fear for them every day,” she cut her off. “Aegon and Aemond are true born sons of the King. They have their own claims to the throne, which someone might decide is a threat and kill them.”

“You believe I’d do such a thing, Alicent?”

“Your sons took my son’s eye. What would stop them or any of your supporters from killing him?”

“I would stop them,” she said firmly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I would stop them before they even thought of raising their swords. Alicent,” she implored, “What happened to Aemond is terrible. I cannot fathom the pain it’d brought you to see him in so much pain. My sons did not intend to hurt him; they only defended themselves. As did your Aemond,” she added before Alicent could interrupt. “But, I would never put a sword to your sons or daughter. They are my blood. They are…” she paused, “They are a part of you. Killing them would be the equivalent of killing you. That is something I truly could not bear.”

Tears fell freely down their faces. Alicent’s heart laid bare on the floor for Rhaenyra to pick up and take with her. The hole in her chest ached to be filled once more by her love. She’d missed her in The Red Keep. She’d missed their talks in the godswood, their walks in the palace gardens, and being at each other’s side always. The Keep feels colder and lonelier than ever before. She wanted to say this. The words tittered on the tip of her tongue, but Alicent could only weep.

“Rhaenyra, I-”

“-Mother! Mother, look!”

The two women turned from each other to see a pale green dragon land on the other side of the dunes, her pale horns pearly white. On her saddle sat Baela Targaryen, who grinned at them both from her seat. Rhaenyra and Alicent wiped their cheeks, and went with their children to greet Baela. She forced herself to push the conversation from her mind, yet it lingered as she walked. As she finished hugging her cousins, Baela looked at Rhaenyra.

“Have you found Y/N yet?” she asked hopefully.

“Not yet,” Rhaenyra answered. “We are waiting for your grandfather to arrive.”

“He set out as soon as the guards told him about Starshine,” Baela told her. “I saw her flying when I first set out, and tried following her, but she’s too fast for Moondancer.”

“It is good you did not follow. Y/N might’ve told her not to land near here,” Rhaenyra told her. “Come, get warm near the fire and eat something.”

Their conversation put to rest for now, Alicent and Rhaenyra joined their children by the fire and eagerly waited for Lord Corlys.

***

As husband and wife now, you permitted Aemond to sleep inside the bed roll, rather than on top. You welcomed his warmth underneath the thin blankets; clinging to him shielded you from the cool winds that came in through the window. Finding a comfortable position proved difficult in the beginning, since neither of you wanted to inconvenience the other, but soon you found a position you liked. His arm around your waist, he laid on his back while you snuggled to his side. It was another step into being married. If you’re married, you’re allowed to share a bed.

In the twilight between sleep and awake, you thought you heard a faint screech from outside. The winds briefly flurried and whacked branches into the window sill before going completely still again. You heard the sound again, but closer.

“Aemond…” you mumbled and wiped your nose, “Aemond, I think there’s…a dragon…out-outside.”

“It’s nothing, my love,” Aemond replied, not opening his eyes and pulling you close. “Go…back to sle-e-ep.”

“Hmm, alright.”

The noises outside did not bother you any further.

***

Lord Corlys’s ship appeared on the horizon around dawn. Rays of orange and yellow broke through the black sky, banishing night and giving way to morning. Rhaenyra found sleep difficult at the beginning. She kept picturing you somewhere deep in the forest, wandering aimlessly with Aemond beside you. Rhaenyra only found comfort when she reassured herself that you are fearless. Cautious, yes, but fearless. You would've adapted to your situation, and found ways to get water and food. You also had Aemond, who’d no doubt have some form of wilderness skills. Suddenly, she'd fallen asleep and seconds later was woken up again.

"Mother, Grandfather is here," said Luke, his face inches from hers.

"Oh, gods, Luke, please."

She gently moved him away and sat up. Across from her, through the dimness of morning, she spotted Alicent already standing. Their conversation the previous night returned like a dream. It'd been as you suggested: both women finally airing some of their grievances with each other. Their hearts finally spilled out onto the floor, and neither one held back. A weight, she felt, slightly lifted itself from her shoulders. Alicent did not hate her. She had in fact resented her for the freedoms she enjoyed, and believed she'd been replaced by Harwin. She thought Rhaenyra truly stopped loving her. How she wished to prove differently.

She saw Alicent in Harwin’s dark curls, and her smirk in his sly smiles.

She thought of her every time she ate a candied lemon off a cake and when a maid poured her sweet cream for her fruits.

Every time Alicent Hightower crossed her mind, her heart shed another piece away.

"Lord Corlys," Alicent greeted the sea lord as he approached. "I am glad to see you arrived safely."

"As am I, Your Grace," he bowed, long locs swinging from his shoulders. "The seas around this island can be rough if one does not know how to navigate them. It makes me glad Prince Aemond and Y/N took their dragons."

She shuddered briefly, picturing it, and pushed it away at once. "Has there been any sign of them?" he asked them.

"Not since we arrived," Rhaenyra answered, walking up to him. "It was too dark to search with the few we have. I take it you've brought more men."

"I have," he nodded over to the shoreline where she spotted more rowboats coming to the shore. "Once everyone is here, we can divide up the parties. Dragonriders may take to the skies, while we go on foot."

"Can you tell us anything you know about this place, Lord Corlys?" Alicent asked, a plea laced in her voice.

"There was once a village here, that I know," he answered. "But, it’s been abandoned for decades and therefore inhabitable. The children will be foolish to try staying in those buildings. I imagine they must've set up camp by a water source, if we're lucky." He looked at the sky above, "It is strange. I have not yet seen or heard Starshine or Vhagar."

"I find that strange as well," Rhaenyra agreed. "Dragons typically stay near their riders, and Starshine isn't one to leave Y/N alone."

"And we would've seen Vhagar," Baela came to her grandfather's side and hugged him. "She's big."

"I assume the children ordered them to stay away to avoid being caught." He kept Baela close as he said, "What were they thinking?" He sighed, "Coming here of all places. How could they expect to survive?"

"It must’ve been Aemond’s idea," said Alicent. "Ser Criston often takes him and Aegon on hunting trips. My son learned a lot from him. I am confident he's kept them both fed and watered at least."

She sounded as if she tried convincing herself more than anyone else. Rhaenyra put a hand on her back to comfort her, and she felt the queen's shoulders loosen.

"They'll be fine. We only need to find them."

"If they wish to be found."

Rhaenyra knows you'll put up a fight. You will not leave so easily; if you caught a whiff of them, you'll run off again. It's what she would do if she was you. Lord Corlys, Aegon and the other boys circled a map Corlys brought along with him. Faded and withered, the copy was legible, so easier to organize search parties in various areas. Rhaenyra only cared about finding you. You mattered above everything else. An hour later, she spotted Seasmoke, a gray and silver dragon, flying through the sky towards them. She greeted Laenor and Ser Criston when they arrived.

"Our girl?" Laenor asked her. When she shook her head, he said, "Well, I spotted Starshine in the skies to the east, so we must be in the right place.”

“I hope so,” she frowned. “Your father is organizing groups to search the forest.”

“I will ride Seasmoke,” he told her, “And scan the island for a sign of them.”

“No,” Rhaenyra said suddenly. When he gave her a puzzled look, she continued, “If they see dragons in the sky, they’ll be compelled to run off again.” He appeared unconvinced, so she said, “You know she’ll run if she thinks we’ve found them.”

“Rhaenyra, we need to use whatever resources we have to find them. The dragons are the best way to do that,” he told her, taking her hand to squeeze it gently. “They cannot run if they don’t have their dragons to ride.”

“They’ll find a new place to hide on the island then. Laenor, Y/N is stubborn and willful. You know she is, and she won’t give up Aemond so easily.”

“She wouldn’t have to give him up if you and the queen hadn’t…” he stopped himself from finishing. “Let us focus on finding Y/N and bringing her home.”

She knew what he meant to say. If her and Alicent made amends after Driftmark, then there’d be no broken betrothal. Did he believe she did not know that? That she felt no guilt or responsibility for causing this? If she’d tried speaking to Alicent and convincing her to reinstate the betrothal for their childrens’ sake, then you’d be home right now. She followed Laenor to the main group, noticing Ser Cole with Alicent. Seeing their heads close together, she guessed Ser Criston is giving his queen a report. Rhaenyra recalled their conversation once again, and forced herself to look away from her.

That was when she spotted the empty bed rolls near the campfire. Aegon and Jace gave their rolls to their mothers, but Luke, Helaena, and Baela slept on their own. Her eyes swept the area for her sons, hoping that she must’ve missed them in the group of people settled on the beach. She even turned to the skies to see none of the dragons in the clouds. She walked around the occupied space, her breath growing heavier as her heart pounded. Seven Hells, they’d done it again. How? When? She’d woken up to Luke’s sweet smile inches from hers. How could they have snuck off so quickly?

“Where are the children?” she asked Alicent, touching her forearm.

“The children?” She then glanced around the beach, looking off into the distance beyond before realizing it herself. “They wandered off.”

“Or went to look for Aemond and Y/N.”

“Ugh, Aegon!” she grunted, stomping her foot in the sand. “Ser Criston!” she walked over to the knight, “Aegon and the other children aren’t here.”

“Prince Aegon told us they’d be going on ahead together,” he said innocently. “Why do you ask…” he then mentally kicked himself, “That rascal.”

“Everyone is aware of my son’s proclivity for lying,” she hissed. “Why do people continuously believe him?” Rhaenyra recognized the anger starting to rise in her tone, and took her forearm again, gently rubbing the space under her arm. “Rhaenyra, I swear it,” she said, “He does it on purpose.”

“Or perhaps he believes he needs to prove himself?”

Alicent hesitated, taking a breath. “Let us go and look for them. They cannot have gone that far.”

“Unless they went on their dragons.”

“Oh Gods,” she growled, “Those damnable beasts…Lord Corlys is arranging groups to go into the forest for Y/N and Aemond. Now, we have to find the others on top of them as well.”

“We’ll go together,” she comforted Alicent. “They cannot have gone far.”

Alicent took a deep breath, and Rhaenyra noticed the raw skin around her nails. She put one hand over them, growing slightly. She must’ve done it throughout the night as she tossed and turned. They shared a glance, before Alicent looked away guiltily.

“Come, Your Grace.”

****

Aemond and you set out for the village after a small breakfast. Since you’d been more concerned with shelter at the time, you’re sure the both of you overlooked useful items. Aemond brought his bow, while you carried a small knife on your belt. You insisted upon having your own weapon on the chance you are separated.

The village remained as deserted as the day you’d first arrived. The storefronts, dusty and grimy, had broken glass or charred sills. The natural world reclaimed the area humanity took by growing through the cracks in the floor, and growing vines up the sides of buildings. Birds made their nests high on the rooftops and chimneys of some shacks; you suspected thousands of insects and arachnids made their homes inside the walls and dark places in the buildings. You walked carefully through the market square, where you imagined dozens of people bustling around in its prime. Merchants must’ve had stalls for their various wares; bakers put pies and baskets of bread to sell from their windows, and an apothecary likely handed out remedies and healing concoctions to customers. It was a shell of the village back on Dragonstone. You spotted a tavern, where you pictured fishermen and farmers going after a long day in the sun. Childishly, you saw yourself and Aemond among them. He’d have come home from fishing or hunting or farming, while you laundered and mended clothes or tidied the house or made dinner for you both. It sounded lovely compared to court life, a vicious pit of vipers and flatterers.

You longed for it more when you added your family into the picture.

“We’ll start in here,” he nodded to one of the buildings. “I think it was an apothecary,” he nudged a broken sign on the front with his foot.

You agreed, and followed him inside. Dusty bottles and jars remained cracked or broken on the shelves, the glass crunching underneath your boots when you walked. You remained near Aemond while inspecting the shelves, which didn’t have much to offer but the occasional insect or dried up plants. The ages hadn’t been kind to the village, it seemed. But, you did find a selection of books underneath the bar.

“Look,” you picked out one gingerly, feeling the thick soot on its leather spine. “I found a book.”

“What book?”

The cover bore no title, but once you opened it, you noticed it was a ledger. Faded letters read the names, amounts and items each person bought; no doubt the shopkeeper kept a record of his inventory and coin. Aemond retrieved a second, smaller book.

“This one must’ve been their guide,” Aemond said, flipping through the pages carefully. “For the different herbs and plants that can be used.” He read a bit into one part, “It tells you how to use their seeds and make oils too. We could use this.” He put it in his bag, then said, “Do you think they grew them here?”

“It’s possible. I can’t see where they’d get them otherwise.”

You abandoned the books for the door behind the counter. It was a workshop; the workbench and equipment proved as much. Aemond delicately picked up a mortar and pestle left on the table, the stone smooth on his fingertips.

“Maybe we can use this?” he asked, “For food?”

“Hm,” you examined it next, then said, “We could.”

You tucked both objects into your satchel, and continued looking around. After finding a few bowls, you decided the shop carried nothing else, and moved on through the back door. In bushes underneath the window, you saw overgrown plants with red fruit hanging from the vines. Tomatoes. How have tomatoes managed to grow out here? Rain? You took the ripe ones, then followed Aemond to the next shop, the bakery.

“A wheelbarrow,” he said, finding a disused wheelbarrow beside a large, rusty furnace. “We can hold stuff in here whenever we go out.”

“Good find,” you nodded your approval.

You each put your belongings inside it, then went into the bakery. Of course, no bread or baked goods were found, but you placed a wicker basket, wooden spoons, a tray, and a semi-rusted pan you found near the brick oven. A good cleaning will make them all usable, you decided. The best find turned out to be a small barrel of salt that had withstood the years. Aemond proclaimed not only could it be used for cooking, but also preserving foods, so hunting doesn’t need to be daily. The bakery being stripped, the tavern and several other shops came after. Whatever glasses hadn’t been smashed ended up in your wheelbarrow, as well as blankets or bags for storage. You had also found a large basin and a washer board for clothing. You have no oils to give them a smell, but hot water will get them cleaner.

Picking whatever flowers the book deemed edible or at least useful filling your new basket, the both of you set back home. Each of you holding a side of the wheelbarrow, you felt good about what you’d found. Little by little, you were building your own home, and you loved it.

“I am glad we came here,” you told Aemond halfway down the path out of town. “I think we would’ve liked it here if there’d been people.”

“Me too,” he nodded. “But I like that there isn’t anyone here.”

“Why is that?”

He put down his side of the wheelbarrow, so you put down yours. “Because then I can kiss you as much as I want,” he smirked before doing just that. You’d become addicted to Aemond’s kisses, your cheeks heating up every time you did it. It made you feel more “married”. When he broke away, he said, “And there is nobody to stop me.”

“Except me.”

“Except you,” he nodded.

You stared at one another for a moment. Having him this close to you still made your heart race. He was right. No meddling mothers, no fussy septas, no annoying brothers were around. It is only you and him. Pecking his lips one more time, you smiled and took up your half of the wheelbarrow again.

“We should refill our waterskins and the bucket,” you said, smiling at his dreamy eyes. “We’re running low on water.”

“We’ll go once we’ve put everything back at the house.” He lifted his side, then said, “I can fish in the lake too, if Vhagar and Starshine don’t come down for another drink.”

You vaguely recalled the noise you’d heard last night. “Do you think they’d been flying around here last night?”

“I suppose. I was sleeping.”

Knots filled your stomach thinking of another possibility. You knew as well as Aemond that your families will eventually appear. They’d rip you both apart, and you’d never see him again. Walking in silence, you decided you won’t let that happen. You’d fight for him. You’ll run away again; you’ll both go farther away where you cannot be found. Looking at him walking beside you, spending all this time with him, how could she expect you to want another? How can they expect you to simply walk away from him into the arms of some nameless, faceless lordling? You’d meant every word under that heart tree. You’ll never leave him.

Coming back home, you both unloaded the wheelbarrow, and Aemond placed it near the front door. You started putting your newest floral finds in jars on the shelves. The apothecary guide book stayed on another shelf where you’d stocked the rest of your books, papers, and slate. Aemond sat at the table to try cleaning off the arrowheads he’d found in the blacksmith shop, while you knocked your basket against the edge to shake out bugs or reptiles nested inside.

“What do you think of these as curtains?” you held up the thin sheets you’d found in- what you assumed- was a seamstress’s shop. “They’re a bit mothy and smelly, but I think if I wash them well, and we use the nails to hang them, we can close them at night.”

“Hm, that’ll be nice. They can keep out the wind at night at the very least.” He touched the tip of one arrowhead, “These aren’t as sharp as I thought. Good thing I found the whetstone too.”

“I’m sure they will still get the job done.” You picked through the other fabrics and sewing supplies you found, keeping it in a basket, “I found this old leather. I can try fashioning you a new patch? That cloth doesn’t hold well and I can tell it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he grumbled, using a whetstone now.

“It does.” You put aside the strip of leather, thread and needle before walking over to him. “We should go to the lake now. Maybe we can perhaps have lunch there too?”

“Sounds lovely.”

He stood up, kissed you, and gathered his bow and arrow sheath again. You dumped the waterskins, pail and the tub into the wheelbarrow and walked through the thicket of trees and shrubbery to the lake. You’d been discussing the newest book you’d found in the shop when darkness fell over you both through the forest canopy. Standing still, you tried seeing the dragon’s underbelly through the leaves above, but the thick layers of branches and trees made it discernible.

“Must be Starshine,” Aemond concluded, beginning to walk again.

“Starshine is faster than that.”

“She might be slowing down for Vhagar to catch up. She’s not as fast since she carries so much weight.”

“Not to mention she’s a hundred-and-thirty years old.”

“And still as fierce as her younger days.”

You found his constant need to defend his elderly dragon sweet. “She and Starshine seem to get on well,” you noted, careful not to trip over anything. “I once feared Vhagar might try to eat her.”

“I worried the same. Vhagar isn’t one to spend too much time around other dragons. She’s often alone, but since she met your dragon,” he looked up into the sky, “They seem to be together a lot.”

“Like us,” you grinned.

“Like us,” he nodded with a smile.

You expected to find the pair at the lake, but they weren’t there. They must’ve flown to the ocean for bigger prey. It didn’t matter. It made you happy to see Starshine having an older dragon friend.

“I’ll collect sticks for a fire,” you said to him, “And you’ll fill the skins?”

“And fish,” he lifted a spear he’d made.

You both nodded, then began your tasks. Walking back to the treeline by the lake, you grabbed whatever sticks and twigs you could use for a fire. Having a meal by the water sounded so tranquil. It made you wonder why you hadn’t done it before. You’d thought of making a fire pit with stones when a noise caught your attention. Looking up from the floor, you stared around the area around you. You held your breath, your body going still as you tried catching more sounds. When you heard a faint crack from farther away, you picked up one last stick and slowly walked backwards. Shadows and figures started forming in your mind, and put them between trees and bushes in the distance. You’re being ridiculous. There is nobody on this island but you and Aemond. Still, you stayed alert on your way back to the lake.

Quietly, you started building the fire in the shade of the trees, while occasionally glimpsing Aemond in the water. Spear held up, violet eyes remained focused on the water. You tried your best not to pay too much attention to the woods behind you. If you kept your mind focused on other things, then the less likely anything would happen. As a fire finally kindled in your small pit, Aemond returned with a fish on the end of his spear.

“I finally caught one,” he beamed, his breeches and shirt wet from standing in the water. “There are plenty more in the lake, so I can try later. Once they’re cooked, we can salt them in the larder for a while.”

“That’s wonderful,” you replied, trying to keep the worry out of your tone. “Do you wish for me to prepare it?”

“I can gut it,” he said, taking a seat by the crackling fire, “I’ll cook it this time.”

“Fair.”

You took a seat beside him, and pulled out the small sewing kit you’d tucked into your bag. The leather strip in your lap, you used a knife to cut out a pattern. It wouldn't be the prettiest patch, but Aemond preferred function over fashion. Aemond quietly removed the bones and guts from the fish, which you tried not noticing as you started sewing pieces closed.

“I don’t need a new patch,” Aemond insisted stubbornly, putting the fish onto the tarnished pan.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you do,” you replied, making another stitch to close off one strap. “That cloth doesn’t fit you properly.”

“It does too.”

“It falls off whenever your head is down too long. Also, it’s dirty and I don’t wish for it to affect your eye.”

“How could it do that?” he snorted, “It’s already healed.”

“I don’t know,” you said, head up slightly, “But you need something more permanent.”

“It’s fine, Y/N.”

“Ooh, can a wife not do something nice for her husband?” your annoyance flared slightly at his teasing smile.

“Alright, fine,” he said, pulling out innards from the dead fish. “If you insist, dear wife.”

“Good.”

You managed to make one strap by the time he started cooking the fish. Then, you paired the fish with water and berries you’d picked yesterday. You both lounged near the lake for a time, the hours slowly creeping along to give you more sunshine. You took a break from your sewing to dip into the water. You took off your boots, shirt and breeches until you only wore your linen small clothes. The shyness from the first time disappeared, and you felt Aemond’s eyes on you as you dove into the water. He continued spearing more fish to take back home, but you knew he watched you. You floated on your back near him, shutting your eyes and letting the water drift you around. A natural luxury you’d never find at home. When your body accidentally brushed into Aemond, you giggled.

“It isn’t my fault,” he suddenly said when you laughed harder. “You’re…You…”

“I’m not naked.”

“You might as well be.”

You opened your eyes to see his back towards you. Much like the last time you swam in the lake, you stood up from the water and looked at him. He stood awkwardly with his hands in front of him, and you stifled a giggle.

“I think I will go back to the house,” you said, cheeks heating despite the cool water on them. “I might start on the curtains now, so then we can have them at night.”

“Yes, you, um…should.”

“Be careful, Aemond,” you told him as you started walking away, “I think there might be an animal somewhere in the forest. I heard it when I was collecting wood.”

“I will.”

You left Aemond in the water, gathered up your sewing kit and the unfinished patch, and went back towards the house. You’ll admit knowing you had that effect on Aemond inflated your pride. Water streamed down your legs, and plastered your clothes to your skin by the time you returned to the cabin. A slight chill made you shiver, so you stripped off the soaked clothes to dry in the sun, while you wandered around the cabin in your nightgown instead. You’d started measuring the thin curtain fabric at the windows when you heard Aemond return.

“Do you think we should make them long?” you asked without looking at him, standing by the windows. You heard him putting down belongings on the side table near the door. Weapons and boots are always by the door. “Long curtains might keep out insects and more wind, but then I lose fabric I could use for something else.”

“Whatever you wish is fine, my love.”

“I would still like your opinion on them,” you stretched out the fabric once you nailed it to the window’s corner. It reached well past the window sill by several inches. You felt you’d be wasting fabric by leaving them long. “This is your house as well.”

“It does not mean much to me either way, Y/N,” he said. Footsteps moved around behind you, and you heard the scraping of the salt barrel. “I need to cut and salt these before they spoil.”

“Do it outside,” you told him. “It’ll stink of fish in here otherwise.”

Aemond chortled, “As you wish, dear wife.”

You heard the continued dragging of the small barrel on the floor before it suddenly stopped. Deciding on shorter curtains, you took up your knife and attempted to cut a straight line.

“Now,” you said, turning to face him, “What do you thi-Aemond? What’s wrong?”

For Aemond stared at the window, completely still and focused on something outside. “Aemond?” you called to him again before walking over. When you stepped within a foot of him, he stopped you with his hand. “Aemond, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

Slowly, Aemond reached for his sheath of arrows and bow. “Stay in the house,” he whispered over his shoulder. He flinched a moment, then became fully stiff. “Bar the door. Don’t come outside, no matter what happens.”

“Aemond,” you squeaked. You looked out the window to see nothing but the greenery a few yards from your cabin. It reminded you of the sounds you’d heard in the forest by the lake, and the hairs on your neck stood up.

“Just stay here.”

You reached out for him when he began to move away, “No, Aemond. Stay here with me, please.”

“Keep quiet,” he hushed you, “And keep yourself hidden.”

You bit your lower lip, and stuck yourself to the side of the window facing the forest. Following Aemond with your eyes, your nails dug into the wooden frame and you chewed your lip. Your senses and nerves braced themselves for an attack; your toes curled inward, and a slew of scenarios crossed your mind. Pirates, bandits, feral people, or a wild predator might come flying out of those bushes and kill Aemond. Then, they’d come after you in the cabin, and you whimpered to yourself. Aemond withdrew an arrow from his sheath, notching it on his bow, and stretching it far back to his cheek. His one good eye stayed trained on the space between the bushes. The faint sounds of footsteps cracking the dried leaves and twigs on the ground came through; voices followed it. Voices meant people. You quickly reached for the nearest object, Aemond’s sword, and held it tightly in your hand.

You wished he’d stayed inside with you.

Right as the bushes parted, Aemond let his arrow fly.

****

A/N: A cliffhanger leaving the question of not ‘what’ has found them, but ‘who’? As always, thank you so much for reading this. I always appreciate any feedback you guys have for me <3

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x yn #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd drabbles #hotd imagines #leo ashton #ewan mitchell

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