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hapan-in-exile · 1 month

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Volume 4 - Post #3: Life During Wartime

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

GIF by myriadimagines

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 3.2K (third post in Volume 4)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, +18 *NSFW*

_______________________________

“Fucking farrick,” you grumble, trying to jam the locker door back onto its hinges. When it finally eases open, you grab your rucksack and head for the exit without changing out of your coveralls.

You never remove so much as a shoe once you're inside the refinery. Showers were available, but no one used them. Cameras surveilled practically every inch of this facility. And just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t in here, too.

Stepping out from under the dim artificial light, it takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the riot of color. It’s early morning, barely past midnight, but the sky is awash in brilliant yellows and oranges, alight with swirling pink clouds.

Lakaran’s nearest sun only dipped below the mountains this time of year, never truly setting. When it sank behind the peaks at this hour, the ridgeline became a deep indigo against the horizon, its glaciers reflecting back the sky’s warm glow.

Ehki is what the Lakarani called their star. Grandmother, it meant. Her daughter, Amular, was the world, and Ehki traveled around her in an unending circle to carefully watch over her children. So tonight, when the sun finally fell into darkness, and there would be several hours of real night for the first time in months, the Lakarani would throw a gigantic party while Grandma Ehki wasn’t looking.

You know you should hurry up and leave before someone accuses you of loitering, but instead, you pause to take in the view. A small, inconsequential act of rebellion. The scenery is breathtaking up here. The air is thin and crisp. It’s the best part of your day to stand on this spot and take in the majestic landscape right before making that sharp turn toward the escalator.

The view from the west side of the slope is decidedly less sublime.

The scale of the encampments surrounding the processing plant is almost impossible to take in at first glance. The structures are a jumble of materials built on top of each other in layers that look more like debris washed up by the river than a deliberate settlement.

The skyline is dominated by the refinery’s cooling towers belching out steam that smelled acrid and made the air thick with humidity. The water used for cooling went right back into the river, along with the encampment’s sewage. Which is why you absolutely refused to eat anything fished or gathered downstream.

You step off the escalator and see Humia waiting for you outside the checkpoint. The security guard reaches for your bag, not bothering to look up or make conversation while she searched its contents. She doesn’t care to ask for your name either, just waits for the familiar beep of the transponder at your wrist to confirm your exit as you walk through the gate.

“How’d it go today?”

“Good,” you answer brightly, patting the bound folio strapped to your stomach. “I found this fire safety and evacuation handbook with a very detailed floor plan of level nine. Raceways, server rooms, access panels…I’ll have to ask my partner about the utility lines, but we might be able to bore into the operations center from an adjoining room.”

“That is good,” she nods enthusiastically. "This is your partner, Nito? He’s the tech guy?”

“Yeah,” a reluctant smile tugs at your lips. Humia probably wasn’t envisioning a furry thirteen-year-old when she used the phrase tech guy, but that would be a fun little detail for her to discover later.

Or sooner rather than later? You still haven’t heard anything from the Razor Crest about when to expect their arrival on Lakaran. Which is absolutely fine. Definitely not a big deal. Nope. Not at all something that you’ve been overthinking for the past eighteen days straight.

Nope. It’s not at all distracting to obsess about how, after months of tortuous yearning, you finally had sex with the Mandalorian and have not spoken to him since.

Gods, why is it suddenly so hard to breathe just thinking about him? The fact that you spend most of your nights alone, willing yourself to recall the memory of his hands on your body while the tears can fall without shame…has been, you know, not great for your mental health.

So that’s why, a few nights a week, you take a break from drowning in insecurity and play at the Sabacc tables.

Guess that’s out of the question now. You’ll need to avoid Johar Kessen like the plague.

“Nito’s been dredging through the Imperial archive for more information on the refinery. The stuff he’s found is incredible. All of the records from when they built this place.”

“Good,” she smiles appreciatively.

As you descend toward the encampment, the rocky mountain path splits into three parts. Two fanned out onto the raised perimeter wall made of poured concrete and scrapwood that traced a broad circle around the sprawling camp. It had been constructed by the Tagge Corporation to help with mudslides, but what it really helped with was surveilling the Lakarani.

You and Humia take the main path through the center of camp.

The hut you shared was higher up on the slope, which was a blessing when it rained but a pain in the ass when you had to walk uphill after eating your weight’s worth of bean cakes for dinner or hauling laundry back home from the wash house.

“Another option is turning one of the technicians, but I’m not having a ton of luck in that department. I can usually wrap scientists around my finger, but engineers are so tricky. It takes them an ungodly amount of time to realize you’re trying to fuck them.”

“For what it’s worth, I would turn for you in a heartbeat,” you say, holding your face between your hands, eyes wide with adoration. “Those dark lashes are criminally lush.”

Humia swats away the compliment. “I could steal a key card, but I have no idea how long it would take for someone to discover it’s gone. That might hold us to a very narrow time frame depending on when it’s reported missing.”

You follow her up the winding footpath that leads homeward. The camp is much easier to navigate this time of day, when everyone is still asleep. “I like the idea of entering from an adjoining room. That way, there’s no exposure in the hallway. Even if we’re in uniform, five people on the cleaning crew, when there are usually only two, will be immediately suspicious.”

The Mandalorian’s solution would undoubtedly be to come in through the front door, rifles blazing, but that’s not an option in this scenario. You have to secure the operations center before anyone from the Tagge Corporation realizes the refinery is under attack. The risk that they would activate the facilities’ containment protocol is too great. It would condemn not only everyone on site but anyone within five leagues of the processing plant.

“We could stuff Serenio and Davik into the cleaning cart?” Humia chuckles at the implausibility of this suggestion.

“I doubt we could even push the cart with Davik stuffed inside. He’s built like a stack of boulders.”

“I told him to quit training in the fighting pits. He’s going to attract too much attention.”

“Why does every population center in this galaxy require some kind of fighting pit? It’s a weird kind of calculus. One communal latrine per 20 persons. One fighting pit per 100 persons.”

She rolls her eyes, “Do you know a more straightforward way to earn money than two people beating the shit out of each other? Though, I don’t think Davik does it for the money. He’s just like a puppy that chews all your socks if he doesn’t get enough exercise.”

“He’s so young,” you sigh, feeling suddenly guilty. “Him and Serenio, both.”

“Most soldiers are,” Humia scoffs. “Revolutions don’t offer a very robust life expectancy.”

“That’s true. I didn’t expect to make it out alive when I joined the Rebellion. And I appreciate the protection. But I can’t help seeing them as children.”

She tosses her head with a derisive laugh, “And I didn’t expect you to be so tenderhearted.”

No doubt she thought it made you weak. But you’re wise enough to know empathy took far more bravery than cynicism. “Just because I can recognize the cruelty of this life doesn’t mean I’ve made peace with it.”

“That’s rather noble coming from someone working with a Mandalorian.”

Your neck turns sharply to catch the look on her face, but she’s already ducking around the pilings and cantilevered beams bracing your neighbors' houses against the mountainside.

“You don’t like Mandalorians?” It seems like an odd prejudice.

“No,” she sneers. “They say they are bound by codes and honor, yet they show nothing but selfish indifference toward the plight of others.” She stops abruptly on her heels to glare at you, brushing strands of auburn hair from her eyes. “And I like your Mandalorian least of all.”

He’s not my Mandalorian, your heart sighs.

The hateful disdain imbuing her words is like a slap to the face. Humia rarely revealed the depth of her emotions. What could inspire this level of rancor from an otherwise inscrutable woman? And why bring this up now?

You cough, clearing your throat to mask the apprehension in your voice. “I didn’t realize you already knew him?”

“I don’t need to know him. I know what he’s done.” But it’s a reflexive response, not a real answer. So you wait. “They’re all mercenaries,” she says, compelled to explain herself. “Condemning their souls for money. They profit from the misery of others for the sake of themselves.”

You can tell she desperately wants you to ask, What has he done?

It’s not the first time Humia had hinted at a bitter history between the Mandalorian and her leader, Ubaa Dir. But you don’t take the bait. If you’re missing some part of the story, you want to hear it from his lips, not hers.

Instead, you remind her with a wry grin, “Well, now you’re working with him too.”

“I suppose that’s true,” she concedes. “Wars make for strange bedfellows.”

An image of them together flashes behind your eyes, and the irrational taste of jealousy fills your mouth. Don’t be absurd! Hadn’t Humia just admitted she'd never met Mando?

Lucky for you, she lets the moment pass without escalation. Her tone shifts, and she places a companionable hand on your shoulder.

“I’ve heard Kessen fights in the pits. We could go to watch him sometime? Belen’s right, you know, he’s got a crush on you.”

“I have no idea why,” you begin, but Humia raises her hand to cut you off.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Kasya. Hiding under workwear and bushy eyebrows won't change that.”

“Now, why would you bring my eyebrows into it?” You tease, as though it might erase her vitriol from moments ago. That is until you catch sight of the security guard standing on your front porch. “Is it okay that he’s waiting here for you?”

It’s the same guy she brought home last week. When he spots you walking down the path, his face breaks into a wide grin. He waves, looking giddy, as though he might jump off the steps to run for her.

“This one, I can turn,” she mutters, slowing her pace. “I’m glad he told us how to block the transponders…but he’s fallen harder than he should. If he starts getting heartsick, it could be a problem.”

“Poor kid. You bat those lashes, and what hope do any of us have?”

“See,” she looks at you askance, nudging you in the stomach with her elbow. “That shit is why Kessen likes you. You’re so sweet with your friends and no one else. He wants some of that honey for himself.”

You snatch at the opportunity to throw her off the subject. “Why Humia Fenrik, are we friends?”

“Why, yes, Kas,” her voice is laden with gooey sarcasm. “You’re my best friend. That’s why I got you this job, remember?” She adamantly refuses to change the subject. “Some men like a challenge. And Johar Kessen is very bored stuck out here with the likes of us, guarding all these soulless corpos.”

“So by challenge, you mean, like how I’ve given him absolutely no indication whatsoever that I’m interested?”

“Are you worried he might recognize you from the Rebellion?”

“What?! No, I’m sure he was much higher up the food chain.” Rumor was that Kessen had led special operations forces during the war. “Kinda sad that he went from Rebel hero to working for the Tagge family.”

“There’s your angle,” Humia says, snapping her fingers. “It would be good to have him on our side once the fighting starts. And Kessen might be elite for a bodyguard, but I bet they treat him like a piece of furniture, same as the rest of us. He must hear things.”

You cock your head at her. “Then maybe you should approach him?”

She’s probably already considered it, but come on! She didn’t have to rake her eyes over you like a bawd house madam ready to offer up her best girl.

“I’m not the one he wants.”

“Listen, I’m flattered you think so highly of my charm, but I do not have the skill set.” You’re at least tactful enough not to say, I’m not like you out loud. This is Humia’s job. She’s very good at it. And it’s not your place to approve or disapprove of the way she went about it. “I’d be too nervous.”

You remember each time you had to quietly lock yourself in the privy to heave up the contents of your stomach whenever the Mandalorian asked you a pointed question, thinking, He knows! He knows I’m lying!

Which…yeah, it turns out he did. “I think I’d have a panic attack and blackout.”

“Your cover story is a psycho ex-lover. Of course, you’re nervous.” At that, Humia gives you an appraising look. “You’re living under a stolen identity and seem to be doing just fine.”

“Exactly! Because I don’t talk to anyone.” A sudden knot lodges in your throat. “Have you asked Serenio to approach anyone?”

One of the refinery executives had an unsettling interest in her. You clean the facilities overnight, so there's rarely any staff on-site, but whenever he worked late, he made a point of saying hello to her. A good opportunity to practice his Twi’lek sign language, he claimed.

You know it’s a mistake to ask about it as soon as the question leaves your mouth. She immediately becomes defensive. “Serenio is loyal unto death. She would do whatever I commanded.”

Humia didn’t have to add, unlike you. It just hung in the air unspoken.

“But Serenio is trained for combat, not espionage. And she’s green as a pea shoot.”

“Ah, so I’m overripe?” You arch a bushy eyebrow at her. "Just falling off the vine. Thanks for that!"

“I’m just saying Johar Kessen is very attractive and likable. You wouldn’t have to pretend. It’s not much of a heavy lift, surely?”

“Okay, the sleeping with him part I could probably manage. But as soon as I ask Kessen a remotely leading question, he will immediately know what I’m up to!”

“There’s no need to tie yourself into knots,” she snaps. "Just be honest. You think it’s beneath you.”

Humia’s back is rigid, and her jaw is clenched tight. She looks so proud yet so vulnerable that it breaks your heart.

Is this why she’s so angry? She'd been seething all day, spoiling for a fight. It makes you question whether her anger about the Mandalorian is sincere or just an attempt to provoke you.

“Humia, this entire operation is built on your intelligence work. You think I look down on you because I’m horrified or judgemental about what you do. But it’s the opposite. I recognize what a dangerous game you’re playing and know I don’t have the courage for it.”

You wish you could give her a hug, but this was not the time or place to dwell on what was at stake, or the weight of what she carried on her shoulders.

“Fine,” Humia huffs, shaking off the tension. “Just think about it.”

Oh, you’ve had plenty of time to think about it. Sleeping with Johar Kessen is not going to happen for a number of reasons.

Chief among them is he would discover that—contrary to your fake documents—you are not human. Which would inevitably lead to the discovery that you are not, in fact, Kasya Hawat. That secret would give him leverage, and you simply refuse to hand someone that kind of power over you.

But you can’t tell Humia this. Because then she would know that you aren’t human, and that is something you don’t plan to share with anyone here on Lakaran. At least not yet. It’ll be another fun little detail for her to discover later.

Seven hells, now you’re doubly glad she doesn’t know. Given the course of this conversation, you have no doubt she’d insist that you use your influence to dig through Kessen’s thoughts and memories for something useful. That’s why Hapan courtesans were so highly prized—one of the few professions the Consortium allowed to leave the Hapes Cluster—and why they made the best spies.

Amongst those other reasons…you have no idea how Mando would react. Though, if you had to guess? You’d guess poorly.

While there’s the whole sworn warrior of Mandalore—I can’t call you mine—complication, you know how he feels about you. A man who struggles with trust would not find it easy to share. His sense of duty and commitment to the job might oblige him to accept it as a necessary tactic, but you aren’t willing to risk it driving a wedge between you. Things are already too delicate.

Aaand now you’re thinking about Mando again.

Fuck, you miss him so much. You awoke every morning wanting him, a dull ache between your thighs. You wanted to hear the sound of his laughter, to touch every inch of his skin with your fingers and feel his heartbeat under your lips to know he was really all right. You wanted to feel his body over you, under you, inside you…

Ugh, you’ve already thought about him about a dozen times today. What’s once more.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” You lie, hoping she’ll let this go for now. “Will I see you later?” You ask, looking meaningfully at the security guard waiting impatiently on your porch.

“No. Unless you’re going to the bonfire tonight?” Her gaze became conspiratorial. “Kessen will probably be there. All those corpos love Lakarani culture if it means slumming it up with us. He'll have to keep them out of trouble. Your pocket is chirping, by the way.”

“What?” you ask, distractedly patting down the front of your coveralls. “Um, sure. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“If not, we should meet for morning prayers at the temple tomorrow. Make our report.” Humia says, beckoning the guard over to join you. “Why are you smiling at your communicator?”

"Hmmm?"

The Razor Crest had just arrived on Lakaran.

****************

Continue reading: Volume 4-Post #4: Say goodbye to the old me.

Back to Volume 4 - all posts

#mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #sexy mando #mando smut #sexymando #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian smut #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin #din djarin x reader #star wars smut

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threeninetwentyseven · 6 months

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indigo

the clock strikes loudest

in the 28th hour

why isnt the water

colder than before?

why dont the stars

shine through the moonlight?

why does the forest

feel like such a sight?

why doesn't the sky

fall down on trees?

and id climb up

to the hurling winds

wouldnt they know

how to comfort me?

i know there's a river here somewhere,

and that there are church bells in my heels.

and though there are lots of bleak blues,

the worst of them,

is indigo.

twinkling stars, dont they call you that?

will you be with me just this night?

solitude isnt just the sting of loneliness,

but also the feeling of shivering hands

while the petrichor may be alluring,

and the clouds may be frightening,

and the nightmares may be dreams

but my being now is indigo

i know there's a river here somewhere,

and that there are church bells in my heels.

and though there are lots of bleak blues,

the worst of them,

is indigo.

#poem #poetry #poetic #poets on tumblr #writers and poets #indigo #storm #water #cold

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okay-j-hannah · 1 year

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Part 4: The Griever

The Lord of the Rings : Multishot

Samwise Gamgee x Reader

Word count: 6138

Warnings: 😢 talk of grief and loss. 💙 slight depression. 🥰 love. 🥰 love. 🥰 love.

Request: “Could I request a multishot with samwise gamgee x reader and sam has always had a crush on her, but on their journey he realizes she's even better than he imagined her to be (like when you stop crushing but actually fall in love)” @the-narnian-sea

A/N: I’ve skipped Caradhras, the mines of Moria, and the river Anduin

Part 3: The Heroine

Part 4: The Griever {You Are Here}

Part 5:

S.R. 1395

The sun was beginning to sink below the grassy hills of the Shire, warming the hobbit holes with the orange summer night air. Little (Y/N), not yet old enough to be considered a tween, was stretching her fingers towards the warm orange glow.

Her not so little hobbit feet were directed towards the distant tree line, a rust colored leather and linen pack across one shoulder.

She was quite determined this time. This time she meant it. She was going to run away – for real. The trees sang for her with their shimmering leaves made golden by the setting sun. The nimble squirrels and clever foxes called to her with their scurrying steps. The wild berries, round and bright, begged to be picked and eaten.

There was absolutely, positively, no way she was going to chicken out and return home within a fortnight. Not like the other four times.

She felt her steps become lighter as she neared the forest edge, excitement making her feel as weightless as a cloud. She audibly giggled, “I wonder if the owls have still nested in the great northern oak,” she muttered to herself.

The forest meant she could discuss these serious matters aloud without the fear of pointed ears searching for tavern gossip.

“Surely they’ve protected my stash of poisonous arrows.” She flounced as the crickets began to speak to her in turn, as if she adorned one of her mother’s custom hobbit dresses instead of the trousers she stole from Merry’s dresser.

“Poisonous arrows?” boomed a voice, “I had no idea you were so skilled in such alchemy.”

(Y/N) became stiff, choking on her own giggle. She tilted her head and slowly trailed her eyes up, up, up… to Gandalf.

The bearded old man smiled, blue eyes twinkling, “On the hunt for Wargs, no doubt.”

She began to smile sheepishly, “Master Gandalf…”

“I see you’ve come prepared.” He nudged her leather pack with the end of his staff, “An attempt to run away?”

“No!” she said loudly, “I… I just went to pick some summer berries for my mother’s jam. She’s been preparing the jars all day.”

Gandalf gave a gruff, “Humph,” as his staff poked further and lifted the pack flap. Just on the surface was a checkered cloth of bread and cheese and a set of flint and steel, tied together with string.

“Do you need a fire to prepare these summer berries?”

(Y/N) added rosy cheeks and downcast eyes to her sheepish face. “Did my parents send you?”

“No, my dear,” Gandalf said warmly, “I was merely on a stroll myself.”

“Are you going to take me home?”

The wizard scratched at his beard as if blind to the young hobbit’s embarrassment. “I don’t see a reason why. I would hate to disturb such a beautiful evening by escorting an excellent forester to reprimanding parents.”

(Y/N) tucked a bundle of crazed hobbit curls behind her ear, hopeful eyes returning to the old man, “I quite agree, Master Gandalf.”

“Wonderful,” he said, planting his staff forward, “Then I would like to invite you on my stroll into the woods.”

Her head perked, “I would be delighted!” And she bounced alongside his considerate pace. “I thought for sure my plans were dashed.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Gandalf said, leading the way as the sky darkened from lavender to indigo. “But now that we are on our way, I would inform you of a splendid clearing just ahead, nestled in a grove of trees.”

(Y/N) craned her neck to catch the wizard’s face, “Is that so?”

“Perhaps we could put that flint and steel to good use?”

“I thought you could conjure fire with your magic.”

Gandalf concealed a warming chuckle, “I have lit the occasional smoking pipe, it is true. But a young forester learns nothing by watching a wizard use magic.”

Little (Y/N) and Master Gandalf then spent the majority of the night in the beforementioned clearing between the trees. (Y/N) showed the wizard how she fashioned crooked arrows from fallen sticks. Gandalf taught her to blow through a blade of grass to produce a whistle.

The pair of them gathered kindling for a small fire beneath the canopy of leaves and starlight. (Y/N) attempted to create a spark large enough to set the dry grasses aflame, but after a few attempts Gandalf sent a concealed spell that made the wood smolder and light instantly.

He didn’t say anything as (Y/N) turned to him positively beaming, “I did it!”

“That you did, my dear,” he laughed, “That you did.”

They each told stories of their adventures – Gandalf’s considerably more grand with his talk of mountains and mines and the sea. Although, (Y/N)’s were far more enjoyable as she required the use of her entire body to describe exactly how large the fish was that pulled her into the Brandywine River.

Gandalf revealed a cloth bundle of his own that revealed a few sausage links and tomatoes. It sent (Y/N) down another imagined adventure where she was a famed chef of the most noble kingdoms of old. A traveling cloak she packed for the cold now tied around her waist, she prepared the food and handed a roasting stick to the wizard.

Feasting on smoked sausage, grilled tomatoes, and fresh bread, (Y/N) found herself falling dangerously close to sleep, her eyes becoming heavier and heavier.

Gandalf removed the cloth being used as a plate from her lap and sat closer in case she fell to her dreams. “I’ve enjoyed our evening together, Miss. (Y/N).”

She smiled, “I’m grateful I ran into you, Master Gandalf.”

He matched her smile, “Might I inquire of something, my dear?” At her tired nod he continued, “What prompted you to make such a journey to the wood?”

Searching for the words, she hummed. “Pervinca Took spread an awful rumor at the pond today.”

Gandalf arched a bushy eyebrow, “Your cousin?”

“Pippin’s older sister,” she said quietly, feeling the heavy effects of sleep, “She told everyone that the reason I’m so peculiar is because I’m not actually a hobbit at all. I am some halfling troll adopted into a generous hobbit family.”

Gandalf frowned, softly placing his arm around the young girl, “As you said, it is but a rumor. A form of trickery to satisfy ignorant and jealous feelings.”

“Pervinca’s jealous of me?”

“She doesn’t know how to have fun,” Gandalf tickled under her chin, and she squirmed with laughs, “And doesn’t know who she is, unlike yourself.”

“Who am I then, Gandalf?” She ended her squirming with nestling beside the old man, wrapped in the grey drapery of his cloak.

He watched her drift off to sleep, having stayed up too late for a child so young. “An excellent young forester and admirable companion. You are someone who is just beginning, yet wise beyond your years. I have no doubt that you’ll surpass the legends you create within your mind just as you have surpassed the expectations of the hobbits in this Shire.”

The old wizard sent another concealed spell of magic through the trees, requesting his waiting horse and wagon to appear. The wide expanse of the wagon filled with fireworks and other tinkering objects, Gandalf rose to carry (Y/N) to the riding bench up front.

He extinguished the fire and retrieved their supplies, giving an encouraging pat to the horse that waited so patiently when the wizard asked it to graze while he approached the wandering hobbit girl he spotted running to the woods.

They made a slow journey home, (Y/N) snug in Gandalf’s side. The old man returned to her parents, assuring them she was quite all right. He ensured her safety and peace of mind before escorting her to the hobbit hole.

They expressed their gratitude, but Gandalf merely waved them off and said, “She is a remarkable girl, that (Y/N). I look forward to the adventures we’ll have together.”

~~~

Present Day

Gandalf was a great deal many things to many people.

He was a disturber of the peace, wise councilman to all races, a mysterious traveler that peddled his fireworks, and a symbol of aid and magic.

But to (Y/N) he was her friend. A friend that spent many evenings distracting her from the ignorance and pity of the Shire through adventures in the wood and lessons of the world. Besides her family, her three cousins, and her scattered friendships with those like Samwise, Gandalf was of the few that was genuinely kind.

He was a gateway to outside the Shire – she adored and revered him.

Now he was gone.

The fellowship was somberly making their way towards the woods ahead, leaving the damnable remains of Moria behind. The only motivation to move was the fear of orcs and goblins daring to venture outside the sanctuary of their mines.

And to not shame Gandalf’s sacrifice to get them out.

(Y/N) lingered at the back of the group, scratching at the mixture of tears and earth smeared on her face. Dirt and coal and grime from beneath the mountain caked her knuckles and smudged her complexion.

It smelt of damp caves, coppery tangs, and death.

She dug in her pockets for a scrap of cloth to clean her face and relieve her of the horrid remnants of the mines. She found a square white handkerchief with the initials S.G. sewn in the corner with blue thread.

She rubbed at her eyes carelessly and rough, pulling the handkerchief away to see large blotches of black. She couldn’t make a sound as she cried, folding the dirtied cloth to a clean side and scrubbing at her chin and neck.

“Here.”

Her ruddy, blotched face found Samwise approaching, hand outstretched. The rest of the slow moving fellowship was venturing deeper into the woods.

(Y/N) bowed her head as she realized he was asking for the handkerchief. He retrieved the cloth and dampened it with his waterskin. Slowly and gently he used the wet corners to clean her face.

“We should stay close,” he said quietly, “I understand not wanting to be near the fellowship, but I don’t want you straying from my side.” He washed beneath her eyes and around her cheeks, “Please.”

She couldn’t reply, her throat strained from trying to contain her cries. She nodded instead, which seemed to lift Sam’s spirits. Boldly he offered his hand and ensured they both made it back to their companions.

He didn’t ask her to speak, only supported her sorrowful heart with his hand in hers.

The fellowship was quiet and heavy the following nights, recovering from their harrowing journey into the mines of Moria. With such a close scrape with death among everyone in the company, each member had a revigorated sense of their own mortality.

(Y/N) could see the realization within her boisterous cousins. Merry put on a brave face, but Pippin struggled to keep his cries quiet at night. (Y/N) had the suspicion that the burden of the Ring had put Frodo in this dark mindset before.

It seemed to only press Samwise to be more candid about his affections towards her. As if small confessions and the fear of loss caused him a new sense of protectiveness for (Y/N).

During another long night of troublesome sleep, (Y/N) found her eyes open at the sound of the lookout being switched.

“You’re the last,” came Boromir’s gruff, lowered tone. “You’ll be here til daybreak.”

Sam replied, “Thank you.”

It was now common that the sound of Sam’s wakeful voice stirred (Y/N) from her sleep. And this night was no different as she waited for Boromir to crash on his bedroll.

She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and rose for the log that Sam was sitting upon. After a few nights of this routine, he wasn’t so surprised to see her shadow grow from behind. He kept himself busy with something in his pack.

“Good evening,” he said quietly.

She sat beside him, eyeing the small smoldering flames of the campfire. Her words were sparse these days.

Sam was simply happy with the fact she desired his company. He pulled a thickset book from his pack, full of fresh, stocky pages. Digging further, he extracted a corked bottle and a smaller booklet wrapped with a belt.

(Y/N) watched him with an expressionless face. Since the events with Gandalf and the near death of her cousins, her lips held a slight frown in the corners. Her eyes were duller and heavy lidded.

Her heart felt stuffed in a too small chest.

Sam opened the first few pages of his book and revealed flattened flowers, glued and labeled with his quick scrawl.

(Y/N) found a piece of her buried beneath the sticky grief of memories perk up with interest. Perhaps Sam was compiling a botanical journal of plants he’d found while on the journey. She strained her eyes to read what the labels were saying.

Turning to a clean page, Sam retrieved the smaller booklet, undoing the buckle of the belt holding it closed. It opened to a page of print, but also more flowers pressed until they were flat. He delicately moved the dried plants to the garden journal.

Opening the corked bottle, a brush was pulled out stringy and thick with glue. He painted a section of the page, laying the flowers as if a prized possession. He ensured to brush the entire plant with the glue, keeping it in place.

In the upper corner he glued buds of blossom pink and speckled white, crisp and crinkled with being dried and pressed. In the lower corner he glued a few wildflowers adorned with rough grasses and wide leaves.

He recorked the glue bottle and traded it for a feathered pen, finding ink to carefully write in a clear space.

“Since you miss your gardens.”

(Y/N) blinked, “Is this a gardening journal?”

Sam hid a soft smile, “No.” He laid the book open to allow time for the new entry to dry.

“Are those…” (Y/N) continued, “Are those flowers I’ve given you?”

“Over the years,” Sam replied.

She felt her lips quiver, perhaps a smile attempting to make an appearance. “I knew you were sentimental, Sam, but that takes dedication.”

He shrugged, “I told you I’ve been dancing with the idea of you for years.” He gave her a tentative look, “It feels nice to tell you that now.”

She had to turn away to hide the warming smile on her face, “I always had my suspicions.”

“Did you really?”

“Well, when you’re tripping over yourself every time you see me and can barely speak to me, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something wrong with me.”

Sam drew in a deep sigh, “It was frustrating, is what it was. I couldn’t act like anything but a fool when you were around.”

She hummed thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t call you a fool. Twitterpated maybe.”

He nodded, “Twitterpated without a doubt. There’s always been something so enchanting about you.” His heart was quaking in his chest, but with his secret out in the open, speaking didn’t seem as impossible. “Gave me a silly crush.”

“Merry teased me about it when we were younger,” she mused, feeling the darkness of the past few days fade away, “Called me a damsel in need of a prince. He would joke that your nervous state was only ever when I was around. It sometimes made me think you didn’t like me.”

“Heavens, no,” he chuckled, “It was because I liked you too much.”

The seedlings growing in her heart had stretched into tall green stalks and broad leaves. They quivered at Sam’s tender words.

“I wish we could’ve explored it while still in the Shire.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, “Though I agree making something official now would make the journey more difficult… I hope my being candid in my affections isn’t overstepping.”

(Y/N) gazed at the glowing embers between them, a soft smile adorning her face, “In truth it makes me more determined to complete the mission and return home.”

Sam made an effort to contain the earsplitting grin trying to overtake his face. “I hope I didn’t imagine those words.”

She reached a hand over and placed it on his wrist, “Sam, I would be amiss to say I haven’t wished something more than friendship between us.” She grinned to see the wonder light in his eyes, “I’m glad to be here with you, Sam.”

He grabbed her hand between his and pressed a kiss there. “I’m going to ensure you’re by my side the remainder of this journey. I’ve got to make sure we return home together.”

~~~

Having ventured deep into the surrounding grey wood, elven friends found them quickly. Under the rule of the queen of Lothlorien, these elves led the fellowship to the heart of their forest.

The colors seemed to dim to sage and grey, somehow sparkling in the dull glow of the ancient magic of the elves. It was slow and peaceful and steady. (Y/N) could feel every beat of her heart and every breath enter her body.

Mighty Mallorn trees grew taller and thicker than all the others. Those of Lothlorien hollowed out the trunks and resided there. Small, rounded windows spiraled up the home trees, revealing candlelight and birdsong.

An elven leader, Haldir, led them to the inner city. Pale walls adorned in green, and silver sheltered them from the soft light of the sun.

It was put to shame by the entrance of the queen, the Lady Galadriel. She floated down the main staircase, a shimmering droplet of starlight descending from the heavens. She radiated elegance with every step.

(Y/N) found herself bowing her head without a prompt.

Another elf, grave and beautiful, spoke first, “Nine there are, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him.”

A hand squeezed (Y/N)’s heart.

Galadriel turned her piercing eyes from Frodo to (Y/N). “He has fallen into shadow,” she spoke quietly to her husband. She sought more answers in (Y/N)’s face and saw the dark blue rings beneath her eyes – the sunken state of her cheeks.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. You are guests here and will be treated as such.” Her mouth continued to move, but it didn’t match the words that (Y/N) heard in her head.

Galadriel was now speaking within her mind. Her hand jumped into Sam’s on instinct.

“Hello, forester. Spirit of the wood. I see your grief. I see it eating at your being.” The crystal blue of her eyes peered down at the hands of Sam and (Y/N) together. “I see your heart. It seeks comfort. Please find rest and reprieve in my home.”

(Y/N) blinked a few times before giving a simple nod. Sam squeezed her hand.

As if they’d always been there, an elf maiden motioned for (Y/N) to follow her. Making an effort to keep hold of Sam’s fingers until the last second, she whispered a farewell and followed her guide.

She was taken to one of the spiraling tree trunks, the soft white gold light of fireflies lighting their path. She was surprised to be given an entire bedchamber and ensuite washroom all to herself.

“Does this seem adequate to serve your needs?” the elf maiden asked quietly.

“More than adequate,” (Y/N) mumbled, sinking in on herself. “Where are my companions?”

“They have their own quarters,” the elf said, making her way to the washroom, “The Lady Queen thought it appropriate to give you your own room. Weeks in the wilderness with nine men seems a worthy enough reason for a girl to receive special attention.”

(Y/N) snorted, “How very gracious of her.”

But her heart yearned with a sudden pain of the moments she’d grown to love with Sam in the middle of the night when he took his turn on lookout. There wouldn’t be any need for that there.

“There are hot natural pools where we secure bathwater,” the elf maiden returned from the washroom. “Please take your time. You are free to anything in this room. I won’t disturb you until morning.”

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what else to say other than, “Thank you,” before she was left alone in the large, decorous room. At the sound of a bath she suddenly felt every inch of grime on her like never before.

It was a wonder that Sam still felt affection for her with the awful state she was probably in.

Slowly, as if every step was a heavy weight that required immense effort, she walked into the washroom. It was refined with pale green and silver grey. A large, wooden bathtub resided near a window with the most magnificent view of the pearly forest.

As if the tree grew in that manner, branches circled the tub, like a bird nest securing hot water. It provided a bench of sorts for support and shelving for tasteful bottles. Not the ceramic and clay bottles of the Shire, but colored glass adorned with gold.

Picking one up, (Y/N) uncapped it to smell a beautiful concoction of strawberry and vanilla. Her mind was drawn back to the famous strawberries and cream from her home.

She promptly dumped the whole bottle into the bath.

Steam billowed as the water was mixed with the milky pink soap. It bubbled where she poured.

She relieved herself of the dirty, stained clothes she’d worn the entire journey and folded them neatly on a bench cushion. And with a great sigh of relief, she slipped into the perfumed bathwater, feeling the heat instantly work at her tired feet and knotted shoulders.

It was quiet and warm and cleansing. Not just of the dirt coating her body, but of her mind. It was like taking care of herself in that moment reminded her of a time before the darkness of Gandalf’s demise – the fear of almost losing not just her life, but of those around her.

It might have been one hour, it might have been many, but as she scrubbed her skin clean with strawberry suds there was a definite lift in her mood.

She found a long sleeved pearlescent nightgown to wear as she grabbed a comb to untangle her unruly hobbit curls. Nails polished with soap and skin dewy with berry creams and lotions, (Y/N) found herself drifting to bed on a dream cloud.

The mattress was feathered and cool with silken sheets. The pillow was even more wonderful as she sunk her face into its down stuffing.

And she drifted off instantly – exhaustion and grief pulling her eyelids close.

It was the soundest she had ever slept. Although still missing the hour when she could awaken to steal precious moments alone with Samwise.

True to her word, the elf maiden didn’t return until late the next morning. (Y/N) peacefully woke from the deepest of slumbers to a platter of meats, cheeses, and fresh fruits. Silken in the white lace dressing gown, she rolled off the bed to reach the platter by the window.

Plucking a grape she heard the door open to reveal the elf maiden. She brought with her a silver trimmed dress, fashionable to the elves of Lothlorien. It glittered like starlight on a smoky-grey sky.

“I don’t normally wear dresses,” she said quietly.

The tall elf smiled warmly, “I did notice the trousers.” She laid the fabric over her arm, so it shimmered, “But I assure you that trousers are not needed for your stay. Enjoy your time out of the wilderness with a few luxuries.”

(Y/N) smiled, eyeing the dress with a sudden heat in her stomach. The last time she admired a dress was one her mother had handsewn for Uncle Bilbo’s party. The lake water dress.

Strawberries in her hair and vanilla on her skin, she felt the desire to wear the dress. Taking a step outside of her life gave her that reprieve she sought.

“Very well,” she said, “I’m all yours.”

An hour later (Y/N) found herself descending the tree woven staircase, ashen branches guiding her steps. She had been away from the fellowship – and Sam – for longer than she ever had since the journey started.

And now she missed them.

“Bloody hell!”

She turned towards the dining hall to find Merry and Pippin.

“What happened to you!” Merry chortled, “You look like a flake of snow.”

(Y/N) looked down at her shimmering silver dress, “Compliments of our host.”

“I’m amazed,” Pippin said, wide-eyed, “It usually takes the fury of your mother to have you put on some skirts.”

“Never understood it,” Merry said, frowning at the volumes of fabric, “How are you supposed to climb any trees in that getup?”

“My thoughts precisely,” (Y/N) said, hands on her hips, “But might as well enjoy a few comforts while we’re resting.”

Merry’s nose started twitching, “Is that you?”

(Y/N) pouted her lip, lifting her arm to smell her wrist, “Orange blossoms?”

“Incredible.” Merry shook his head in wonder, “They’ve turned you into a girl.”

She punched him in the shoulder, “I was always a girl, you dingbat.”

Pippin was still trying to wrap his head around it, “Whatever happened – you’re beautiful, (Y/N).”

“The proper response,” she replied, glaring at Merry, “Thank you, Pip.” She continued on her way, following the path the elf maiden said led to the other guest quarters.

“Oh, I don’t suppose you wanted a spot of second breakfast?” Pippin called out.

Merry laughed heartily, “She didn’t come down to visit us.” He raised his brows, folding his arms, “She’s going to see Sam.”

“Sam?” Pippin muttered, “Well, he can come to breakfast too.”

“No, Pip,” Merry said exasperatedly, “She fancies him. Wants to show him her pretty new dress.”

Pippin gasped, “Well, I’ll be…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” (Y/N) said, “I don’t want to show off the dress.”

Merry shared Pippin’s gasp, more dramatically, “But you confess to fancying him.”

She put a hand to her temple, “I would say so, but I’d fear you choke on the next breath you’d take.”

“I knew there was something suspicious about how close you two have gotten.”

“Has he said anything?” Pippin inquired, leaning in as if the biggest secret was being discussed. “Has he stated his intentions?”

She flickered her eyes between the two cousins before nodding.

“Has he really?” Merry laughed, “Wasn’t sure he had it in him – I’ve only been teasing you both about it since we were children.”

“You’re insufferable,” (Y/N) sighed, “I’ll meet you all for teatime.”

After a couple winding hallways, she found herself at a stone gazebo, vines of rose buds climbed the columns. A bench sat in the center and supported the figure of Sam gazing over the railing at the ashen grey forest, glittered with white firefly light.

She went for the couple stone steps, thinking of sneaking up on him. But in a thunderous turn of events she stepped on the hem of her dress, falling to her knees with an “Ahmph!”

“(Y/N)!?”

She started giggling, a rosy, red color blooming on her cheeks and across her nose. “If I ever needed another reason to never wear a dress again…”

Sam ran around the stone bench to reach her side, “Are you all right?” He took her hands and guided her to a standing position.

“Other than my pride, yes I’m fine.” She laughed a dazzling laugh. “I came to find you.”

But it appeared that Sam was at a loss for words. His eyes were wide, and (Y/N) couldn’t tell if he was terrified or surprised – perhaps a bit of both. His lip started to quiver as if he was trying to get a word out, and his hands were becoming limp around her own.

“Sam?”

“You… you’re…”

She widened her gaze expectantly, “Yes?”

He took a deep breath and broke out in smiles and giggles, “You smell of strawberries.”

She started giggling too, “Goodness, I thought you’d forgotten how to work your voice.”

“Strawberries and cream,” Sam said merrily. He lifted her hands to his lips and closed his eyes, humming, “Orange and florals?” he smiled brilliantly, “You smell of home.”

She squeezed his hands, “The service here is immaculate.”

He pulled her towards the stone bench, a hand on her lower back and eyes on her feet to ensure she didn’t trip again.

“(Y/N), you look like a star,” he whispered, “How did you manage that?”

She pulled on the collar of her shimmering gown, showing the blush blossoming down her neck. “I assure you I had nothing to do with it. These elves know a thing or two about living high society.”

He sat beside her, mesmerized by the sight of her. “You’re positively breathtaking,” he laughed, “As made evident just moments ago.”

She smiled, brushing a shiny curl behind her ear. “I missed you last night.”

It was quiet for a few moments before Sam replied, “I missed you too.” He just couldn’t take his eyes off her, “I dreamt of you instead.”

“Did you?” she wrapped her arms around his, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Just the usual.”

“The usual?” she giggled.

He continued his gaze of the surrounding forest, “We’re sitting in a garden I planted for you. I say something that made you laugh. You press a kiss to my cheek. And I wake with a pounding in my chest.”

She hummed, “Sounds like those dreams are going to give you an affliction of the heart.”

“That’s right,” he mused, turning his head to speak into her hair, “I’ve become lovesick.”

“How terrible,” she played along, “Is it curable?”

“It’s chronic,” he sighed, “It will be an ailment I have for the rest of my life.”

She tilted her head up, “Perhaps there are ways to alleviate the symptoms.” And she pressed a small kiss to his cheek.

He smiled wide, cheeks as red as his hair. “I do believe that helped.”

~~~

The fellowship stood before the queen of Lothlorien, clean and refreshed for the next part of their journey. The young hobbits were all clad in dull green cloaks, fastened by an enchanting, forged leaf. And each were being given special gifts.

Crystal phials, little daggers, and charmed elven rope.

When it came to (Y/N)’s turn, the queen placed a delicate hand on her shoulder, guiding her to a private corner of the entrance hall.

Back in soil colored trousers and a tunic the shade of old parchment, (Y/N) truly looked like a creature of the earth beside a twinkling elven star.

“The journey you take is treacherous,” the queen said quietly, as to not be heard by the surrounding company. “But it is one that must be accomplished.”

(Y/N) nodded, “I’ve been told of the horrors possessed within the Ring. I do not take it lightly, my lady queen.”

She bowed her regal head, “Your cousin Frodo will not be able to take the Ring without help. He is alone with its torment, but he should not be alone in guidance.” She moved her crystalline eyes towards the fellowship, “The companion, Samwise… he will be sorely needed by the end.”

“Sam means a great deal to all of us.” The conversation was putting an uneasy feeling within (Y/N)’s stomach.

Galadriel returned her gaze, “Yes, I knew as much.” She cupped her hands together as if to summon something, “There will be a time when you take your separate paths.”

(Y/N)’s brow became furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You are meant to go your own way,” Galadriel smiled, but no warmth came from her. “In the distant future. But the companion Samwise will need strength as he cares for the ringbearer.”

“Why would I leave to…”

Galadriel opened her hands and two pieces of crystal rested there, “He will need your love and support to get him through the lands of Mordor.”

The crystal, no bigger than a skipping stone, was translucent and full of little fissures and fractures. The lines cracked within the crystal took shape as a petaled flower. (Y/N) felt immediately drawn to it.

“In the days before Numenor,” Galadriel continued, “A star fell from the heavens, beautiful and great. It split in two along its journey, making it incomplete and vulnerable. Each fell to their own crater, devastating surrounding forests – but encasing themselves around the flowers beneath them.”

She lifted the crystals and revealed that each was melded to a silver chain. She extended them to (Y/N), who felt hesitant to accept the gift.

“Though separated by a perilous journey, the pair never lost contact with each other. There is an ever constant link between the two. Should one be held and whispered to, the other will grow warm and empowering.”

(Y/N) finally took the crystals and felt an instant weight in her hand – a comforting weight like a hug. For the oddest reason she felt her chest fill with an inconsolable warmth, as if everything was going to be all right in the end.

“I feel something.”

Galadriel nodded, “It is their connection. Both pieces of the same star, they’re destined to be together. That is a great comfort to them; to not be alone in the world.”

“You speak as if stars have a conscious.”

“Perhaps they do,” the queen twinkled, “Give one to Samwise. There will come a time when he’ll need your empowerment. Hold the crystal close to your heart and he’ll feel it in moments of great peril.”

(Y/N) nodded, placing one crystal around her neck and tucking it down her tunic. It lay protective over her chest.

“Thank you, my lady. Thank you for your care and hospitality.”

“Farewell, dear forester. Keep your other half close.”

And (Y/N) had the sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t meaning the crystal halves.

Later as the fellowship approached the River Anduin, (Y/N) lagged at the back of the company, prompting Sam to do the same.

She untucked the crystal flower from around her neck.

Sam widened his eyes, “Where did you get that?”

“It was my gift,” she said, smiling, “I have one for you as well.” She drew the other from her pocket and stood on her toes to put it around Sam’s neck.

“What is it?” Sam questioned, picking the crystal up from his chest, “It… it feels warm.” He started to smile, and not purposefully.

(Y/N) smiled too, holding her crystal to her heart, “It’s a token of my love.”

Sam went still, but his eyes whipped to hers, “Hm?”

She spoke softly, trying to contain her widening smile, “I have it’s equal. They’re a bonded pair. Whatever is held in the one will be felt in the other.”

“And you are…?” he seemed edging on desperation to get to the base of the subject.

“Holding it with love,” she said, “Can you feel it?”

Sam swallowed, “I feel as if my heart might burst.”

“Again with the heart affliction,” (Y/N) laughed quietly, “If I had known loving you would cause you such danger…”

Sam was getting more and more frantic the longer she talked, “I… you – gracious…” he held the crystal tight on his chest, his face the epitome of beaming.

(Y/N) started to giggle, the crystal beneath her hand growing heavy and warm, coursing through her whole body until she ached with the sight of him. “Sam, are you trying to tell me something?”

Her head began to swim with airy thoughts of East Farthing roads and Party Tree dances, all while in the arms of Sam. Her chest was full of flower buds just beginning to bloom.

Sam was almost quaking with the ache of his heart. He was desperate to touch her. Desperate to hold her. His chest was blossoming into something great and irresistible, and it gnawed at him.

She loved him.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, “For how long I could not say. But it is undeniable at this point.” He took a step towards her.

She took a shallow breath. “I’m not sure I can wait until the Shire for us to be together.”

“I thought it a silly notion to begin with,” Sam said almost breathless, raising his hands to cup her cheeks. “I don’t want to waste another second not declaring my love for you.”

She raised her own hand to cover one of his on her cheek. She remembered Lady Galadriel’s prediction that (Y/N) would eventually leave the fellowship for her own path. She did not think it possible to make such a decision with Sam at her side. He was leaning in closer, the heat of his face making hers warm.

It made the connection of their lips all the more searing.

~~~

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000 @aria253264 @bippity-boppity-boopa @kaqua @cameleonfrenzy @cephalo-bot @honimello @simplyfandomish @brokennerdalert

Remember to check out my tag list so you’re updated when a fic you like is posted on my blog! Tag List

#samwise x reader #samwise gamgee x you #samwise gamgee x y/n #samwise gamgee x reader #samwise gamgee #samwise imagine #Samwise The Brave #samwise #The Lord of the Rings #lord of the rings

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eccentric-nucleus · 6 months

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Tyler gracefully soared through the boundless skies, a profound sense of joy enveloping him. He effortlessly navigated through the ever-changing expanse of clouds, encountering awe-inspiring vistas in every direction. The skies were a canvas of vibrant colors, with deep indigo lakes and rivers below, trees adorned in brilliant crimson hues, and majestic canyons teeming with life. These sights defied simple description, akin to scenes from the pages of "Lord of the Rings," appearing almost too fantastical to be real.

rule 1 of writing fantasy stories: just tell people it's like another better fantasy story

#this is the FIRST PARAGRAPH

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dyrewrites · 19 hours

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ROYGBIV Tag

Brought to you by @willtheweaver

Rules: find the main rainbow colors in your WIP!

I am tagging @illarian-rambling @pb-dot and YOU

->Before Deluca snips incoming<-

Red

Pulling him close, I teased his neck, his shoulders, accepting every soft gasp he gave before feeding the bleeding tears in his arm my tongue. Muscles, gleaming too red in the darker blood, stitched with my gentle licks and he moaned as his nerves found their severed matches and each strip of flesh and skin tangled and knit whole again. “A wonder,” he breathed, “you are a wonder…”

Orange

I had no time to address it, however, as the bat gaped at me, her brown eyes yet tinted orange by the light of the room, “You’re a dead thing too?” She elicited another cold, mirthless laugh from Lucient before she begged, “Then bite me, dead thing. Drink me, empty me of all this hot, wretched life. I want to see it smeared thick and red all over you.”

Yellow

Nodding, I pulled him close and tight against me, savoring that short yelp before kissing his neck and whispering, “That it does.” Pushing me away, but smiling still, he whispered back, “None of that now, we have pirates to devour.” “Maybe not all of them,” I gestured to the fog, how it saturated the deck in its wispy tendrils, obscuring all but the soft yellow light of the evening sun, “With such cover it’d be nothing to snatch a few alive, perhaps use that delicious voice of yours to capture us a new crew?”

Green

And it was no island I pictured. Islands were not made of jagged black rocks reaching from the ocean floor like angry claws, lit in an unnatural mix of green and blue. Islands did not have their own cloud-cover, black as soot and twice as thick. But most notably, and most unsettling; islands did not moan as deep and passionate as a lover at approaching ships…

Blue

Massive those doors, tall and imposing but not so much as the last manor he brought me to. What loomed ahead of us felt like a home, a magnificent one likely tended by countless servants, but a home. Just inside that entry, its doors spread wide, stood a short man whose layers of ruffles did little to hide the sickly skin of his neck and hands—their dreary blue hue reminding me of drowned men. He was dressed in a draped coat dyed a blue reserved for royalty, trimmed in gold far too bold, swaying beneath the weight of a high-set and intricately plaited black wig.

Indigo

“Worse than that, treasure,” Lucient’s quiet voice traveled clear, even loud, through the cavernous silence of the room and I sat up to search for the cool skin not tucked beside me. It took crawling across that worrisome bed and shuffling open the gauzy purple canopy hanging from it to find him. Across the room, chill pale covered in similar fabric—gauzy but thicker and bluer, closer to indigo—that flattered his figure too well not to be tailored, he was digging through inlaid shelves and vine-bound cupboards.

Violet

I would love nothing more than to offer you a walk through those confounding trees by the dark violet that marked night in them. Over every natural bridge, crossing gentle rivers of red-tinted cyan waters, towards the bulbous messes of bleeding wood and strangling vines that served as our temporary home...but I cannot. Much as our first trip to the falls and the hungry pool it fed, we did not take the return of our own volition—and we slept through the experience.

#tag games #roygbiv tag #open tag #writeblr #before deluca #snippet #did i say i'd get indigo into something last time i did this?#because i did it

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stardust-in-my-mind-blog · 2 months

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starflower storm

when lightning veins the sky in a flash

the sky is indigo and violet

I am comforted by the thunder

tiger lullabies muted by clouds

the fall of rain is how the gods touch earth

in the rain the rivers come to light

were we a storm or storm born?

I wonder if you hear me

whenever I call your name in the dark

then curse myself for foolishness

the way I was taught to love

is how the waters fall from the high seas

poured from clouds with a good luck kiss

no one caring how they collide with abyss

hoping for some compassionate embrace

expect nothing but nonetheless an optimist

#rain world #pluviophile #storm #scorpio #weather #spilled words #spilled poetry #spilled writing #spilled ink #spilled thoughts

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gazelessmenagerie · 8 months

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It almost came as a question how the rain could be falling while he still saw patches of sunlight and the bright blue sky from above. The rain lasted longer this day.. building up as he's watched with clouds preparing their deluge until it began to sprinkle and kept going. Staring out from the mouth of his cave, the Brute watched the blood red mesas and beige boulders turn a darker shade, watched the soils below his lofty cliffside perch run thick to mud when the countless droplets of water multiplied and struck down like an army against the flesh of the Earth.

Reaching out a hand, the chill of the water wasn't unfounded as it touched down over his callused palms, clear streams flowing down his arm to drip down at his elbow..

The sky darkened and the rainfall drowned out the silence, lulling the beast of a man to a placid state in watching. After a short while, the Brute got up to retreat deeper into his cave and collected an assortment of large vases and containers to drag out into the rain. A shiver crossed down his spine as the cold water met the bareness of his back but he shrugged it off and continued his task to lay out the large vessels so they may catch as much fresh rainwater as they could to replenish a supply. By that time, the rain was crashing down on him; wetting down his hair to stick fast to his back and cause entire rivers to cascade down his body. Brushing the wet clumps of hair out his eyes, Broly could only grumble and accept the fact he'd be drenched by the time he got every large container in place.

Trekking back and forth, over twenty containers were laid out but the Saiyan remained outside. His flesh cooled, getting used to the water as it became a forgotten chill. Sitting out on the edge of the cliff, he listened to the song of the storm as it rose and fell, feeling the change of the wind and the pressure of the humidity shift around on invisible wings.

His eyes closed, focusing on the feeling to remind himself of his freedom.

He felt.. Cold. Wet.. likely a miserable state to be but it wasn't numbed out like so many things before. He could listen to the song for as long as he wished without anyone telling him what to do or how long. Although the pelting of ice began to hit his skull and forced a hiss as he brought a hand up to shield himself. Flecks of hail stuck into his hair, laying like salt among obsidian seas as the Brute remained stubbornly in place until the passing hail ceased and the rain returned.

Shaking his head, it was.. odd how warm the water felt this time around as it pelted him.

..Could it be his body temperature was simply that low or was it the atmosphere itself..?

Amid his passing thoughts, the first call of that wonderful noise brought him to look outwards towards the painted desert swathed in hues of dark oranges, terracotta and maroon overseen by swashes of purples, indigos and grays. Streaks of white obscured the further into the distance he peered, fog rolling in but he made no mistake to hear that growl of the heavens. The friction of the air was caught to him, stirring his heart with the building power of electrons flowing to collect in endless numbers. His tail wetly slapped against the rock, curling over itself with the resounding drums of the heavy deluge pelting at him like end endless assault of arrows.

Another growl by thunder's call was answered by his own, reverberating within his chest as the flash of silvery fangs reflected within the dark pools of his eyes. It only lasted an instant but each time brought a certain Saiyan instinct to swell within, watching the display of such raw and untamed power strike across the skies before a roar followed the closer the heart of the storm game to his home. The skies were darkened fully, the land below ran with newly created flooding rivers washing over the soils as though it were washing away the sins of heat and sun.

The Earth's flesh could only open up and bleed.

Water came in a flood over the natural grooves that eroded over time, becoming the canyons he saw today. Part of him wondered how those smaller grooves would look after a million years.. long after he's dead and forgotten. The rain itself turned from torrential to a gentleness, shifting back and forth depending on its mood..

He almost entertained the thought of being similar to him..

These elements.. this desert he called home..

Looking out, he could almost see how the land will bloom with flowers tomorrow or after the following days that passed. The sky remained gray even as the rain began to cease, sprinkling as it did before and he still stared at it.

Listening to that emptiness that wasn't so empty anymore.

#|| Drabble: { Broly }#( aw hell yeah. another rain came. )

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rjalker · 1 year

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Yeah really unfuckingfortunate that Martha Wells chose to make Raksuran society explicitly anti-trans. With two heavily trans-coded characters who are treated with nothing but disrespect.

That's what biological and gender essentialism do to society, I guess -.-

#sigh #Rjalker reads The Books of the Raksura #Martha Wells transmisia #Raksura #Chime of Indigo Cloud #River of Indigo Cloud

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axl-ul · 4 months

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The Flight of the Western Crane: Chapter Fourteen

(A reupload/repost of my fic/dark retellingof Journey to the West which can be also found on AO3 under the same name)

(General info about this fic/wip/retelling is here)

****

Under the sky, thick redwood tree giants, golden larches and discreet gutta percha trees were covering the area with their wide veils. Every single twig played in various shades of green, the only colour which seemingly brought some vibrancy to grey daybreak. Yet, under their leaves, an unbelievable humidity carrying the stench of decay and boiling hotness quickly wrapped around the group of armed travellers who took hiding in the swampy groove, making their scaly skins under the armour drown in salty sweat mixed with dust and peeling skin. Only one of them didn’t seem to care much about the tough conditions despite the thick fur covering him from head to toe. Standing in the darkest shadow, he appeared as a terrible statue dressed in a tattered cloak and a brown waist sash of a beggar. Yet nothing but a pure arrogance of a victorious thunder god was carved into his grotesque features.

The nameless monkey’s pupils had to burn with tiny orange flames so he could keep watching the cursed Dragon Prince warily. The snow-white body was lying on the moist ground not moving. The steamy fumes streamed out of the nostrils like the gas leaking from under the bubbling surface of the nearby dirty pool. The dead river arm desperately tried to hold onto the last bits of life just like the will of the dragon horse. Its numerous thin fingers stretched out among the low hanging cypresses and low fruitless bushes or lilacs.

The horse snorted from his deep sleep with great difficulty. Lie’s nose was in the worst condition than ever before, the pink was painted over with deep purple and indigo blue from numerous bruises.

While the ominous figure never left the prey out of sight, his fingers played with a tiny flask filled with a dark liquid.

What to ask? Where is Sun Wukong? To trust Golden Wind with the task of hunting down the Pilgrims wasn’t an option he was willing to prolong. His future younger brother must surely know something. Anything.

The macaque’s foot was quickly tapping on the ground as he pouted.

The liquid splashed behind the glass. An inaudible noise for a mortal. Yet for the demon, it marked a promising future.

The macaque brought the item to his vision and observed the essence for the hundredth time. His hawk eyes were as precise as always even now in the treacherous shadows of the swamp. In no way they could have been easily deceived.

Truly, the creature he witnessed had blood darker than the night, darker than the core of the rotting pit, the corner where his damned soul should be.

****

The macaque’s hands brushed away the twigs and lianas of the gargantuan banyan like two rakes. Faster than any other being in the humid forest, he certainly gained a lot of strength from the devoured monkeys of Mount Huaguo. Most of his skin was already covered by golden-brown hair, which got darker with each day. Occasionally, there were red dots sprinkled over the fur on hands and throat which kept holding on, refusing to be washed away by the light summer drizzle. Yet there still remained a few spots on his face, back and legs where the skin and the muscle didn’t replace the dead rock. It, however, crumbled with each step and the more he went, the more flesh was born from it. The freedom washed over him. He wanted to feel like all those years ago when he for the first time saw the golden light, the innocent blue sky threaded with creamy clouds and the waving trees of the wide mountain. He really should have been feeling like an infant as he was freed only a few days ago.

But he didn’t.

He knew he couldn’t. Although, his hunger matched that of a newborn.

His eyes darted around, his mind was stripped of any remorse. The demon wanted to feed. It became his only wish. To feed, to grow stronger, to conquer, to murder, to last forever.

That was his purpose. To survive and to show he was the strongest. In the chaos of the world, nothing was certain. Anything was fleeting, anything could easily get lost. Anything but him. He is eternal.

He desires to be the next sky, the next stars, the next sun, the next moon and wind. The next seas and oceans and mountains. He will last far longer than forever. He will become beyond comprehension. That is his potential, what he truly must become for he was born to achieve it, to claim it.

He. Tianchan Shihou.

The macaque was submerged in his own thoughts; he did not realise the terrible howling coming from nearby.

He stopped. His six ears perked up as he carefully listened.

Yes. A howling. A terrible blood-freezing screech which the inky night should have carried away. But the sound continued. A metal clashed against a metal. The fight resonated and made the curious macaque come closer. From behind a massive boulder coated with moss, the demon carefully observed.

What he saw, he couldn’t believe.

A being with a head of a one-eyed brown dog and horse hooves leaped against an unbelievably tall naked creature which resembled a person only in the structure of the body and the amount of limbs. Its skin was as pale as fresh snow, a perfect contrast to the dark hair wildly flying around as the creature ducked down from the incoming attack. Even though it didn’t last a second and the distance between the two enemies and the monkey was rather big, the demon noticed a pair of dots located on the creature’s face. Eyes. He wasn’t sure, though. But if they were, those were the biggest and the darkest eyes he’d ever seen on anyone.

Another cry, another spit, another kick into the stomach and shin and they clashed again. Now the demon monkey understood. Their crossed claws were the source of the ear-piercing clang.

The pale one roared in a voice like a thunder. It thrilled and waved around the vast area as the pair fought and bled.

The sight, the view, the sheer speed and might far greater than his own sent shivers down his spine. Not from fear, though.

The pale one shrieked as the twisted dog-creature with a muscular human torso leapt forward and bit down into the lanky neck. The dirty teeth tore down into the flesh until something black started pouring out.

The macaque thought he recognized the winner. However, his judgement wasn’t correct this time.

A sound of meat being torn apart, white bones crushed to dust, a splash of red blood reeking from the hole in the barking dog’s chest as the clawed hand of the pale creature ripped through it. There, imprisoned among those dry dead man’s fingers was a beating heart.

The dog monster collapsed on the ground, motionless, while the pale one’s protruding spine arched back so the pale demon could howl in a bitter victory. Yet, the relieved puffs didn’t last long. Holding the breath for a moment, the face with sunken cheeks turned to the East so the abysmal eyes could inspect the starless sky.

The macaque didn’t understand at first the terror in that face. He followed the direction of the creature’s gaze until he met the rays and warmth of the rising sun. The creature screeched for the last time as it grabbed onto its wounds and limped in the opposite direction. Enormous bat wings grew from under the ashen skin and in a flick of an eye, the thing disappeared in the remains of the night sky as black as charcoal.

Understanding the risks of coming out of his hideout too soon, the demon waited for the sun to fully come out, enjoying the pleasant change of the colour palette in the meanwhile.

Surely, it was a bizarre look on the foreign corpse lying among the numerous flowers of snow-white rhododendrons, bright lilies with spotted yellow petals and carmine orchids. A grotesque contrast for sure, when nobody knows whether to admire the bizarre scene nearly taken out from a fine collection or paintings or to cry out from dread.

These odd circumstances certainly caught the macaque’s attention. But not in the way those dark dots on the dried out twigs and trampled grass did.

At first, he thought the ooze was only covering the affected areas. Looking closer, the macaque noticed a peculiar detail. Everything it had touched was now rotting and hissing as the liquid burnt through.

His brown eye with a scarred brow twitched. A malicious toothy smile suddenly cooled down the summer air. He vigorously stood up, the heels of his bare feet digging into the wet soil. Quickly, the monkey robbed the one-eyed canine to the last possession. As if by a miracle from the Heavens, a little flask was included, too.

Soon, he proudly started to munch on the meat of the fallen. His face twisted, already distinct wrinkles became even more profound. The taste was nauseating. Not sure whether the meat was naturally so repulsive to digest or it was the effect of the black blood, he spat it out. Although the strange monkey hated the idea of wasting food, his crying stomach and the bitterness building up in the back of his throat changed his mind quickly. The acidic aftertaste kept on nagging him for a long time, even when he returned to his pursuit of the Pilgrims and his destiny, gold-plated on the first glance, yet crooked and rotting deep within.

****

The macaque demon shook his head. The memory used to be exciting. Now, it’s a bitter reminder of his own weaknesses. He must get stronger. The sooner the better.

What’s a better way of achieving that if not becoming one again…or only the sole one?

Soon, the mount’s limbs started to convulse and the macaque with six tattered ears threw away his flaming mask of arrogance.

****

Lie’s heavy eyelids uncovered his blood-shot eyes as the mount was starting to gain consciousness. His strong muscles were sore and exhausted. His legs were bound together by a strangling rope, thus he had no way to stand up. The rough material cut him deep. Those invisible claws and fangs, daggers and needles sucked on his strength and energy, his blood and pain became the source of their collective but twisted pleasure. Worse, the nest of his despair didn’t end there. His heavy body was crushing his innards. His lungs itched and jabbed. Puffing and trying to neigh, he became no more than a jerking worm drowning in a pool of mud and dirt. His heart was beating wildly. Like a wild river, the mount’s boiling blood was running through the veins, his pulse quickened as a fog enveloped his surroundings.

At last, the most desperate neigh stuck somewhere in the unknown of his stranded thoughts. It never reached the outside to be heard by anyone.

His terror, however, bounced back and cut deep into his heart once Lie noticed two flaming eyes targeting him from the darkness so thick and glutinous as treacle.

Lie froze. A tired hoot, a sound more of a low but loud screech than a twittering melody, reached his ears yet it was all that managed to get to him through the thick coat of horror which wrapped around him completely and caused an unbelievable tremor to his body.

“You should rest while you can, Brother Lie.“

He was there. Looking right back at the Dragon Prince. A pair of miniature charcoal pupils encircled by hellish flames. Two damned islands in the middle of a large face painting where the skin convoluted with deep wrinkles until they resembled terrible waves.

“Don’t call me your brother. You’re nothing to me.“ Though still trembling and stuttering, Bai Long Ma himself was taken by surprise by his audacious words.

The stranger, whose dark cloak rested on his wide shoulders like terrible birds of omen, remained unfazed, though. Only the sharp jaw clenched. “Where’s Shifu?“

“Stop referring to him as such! I may not know what you’re exactly,“ goosebumps emerged on Lie’s skin the more resemblance he noticed between Wukong and the demon in front of him,“but I'm sure you ain’t up to no good.“

The horse’s fury had no impact. The six-eared stranger muttered his question again. “Where’s Shifu?“

That was the last drop. The dragon horse inhaled deeply and then spat out a large flame towards the monkey. Once the fire was gone, the Prince bulged his eyes out as he saw nobody standing on the spot he aimed at. But within a few seconds, a dull pain struck the back of his head. The kick caused dozens of miniature stars to appear in the horse’s vision. Then, a clawed hand grabbed him from behind under the throat and elevated the Prince’s head. The fiend whispered to his ear,“Where’s Shifu? Where’s the imposter? Don’t try to lie. I know all of you too well to know where you’re trying to dance around the words.“

“Go…“ Lie puffed, the iron taste spreaded on his forked tongue,“...to Hell.“

The unknown demon chuckled. “Don’t need to. I’ve already been there and let me tell you, Yama isn't as scary as some like to claim. At least he didn’t protest when I made a little update to his records.“

The macaque let the mount’s head meet the floor. The prisoner lay still with his eyelids shut, his initial shallow breaths slowed down and significantly deepened.

Although it was a pitiful sight at the humiliated heir of the Dragon King of the West, the Prince had no intention of letting his only friends down. His inner willpower and courage burnt in his heart and caused the fear to retreat.

The macaque, of course, noticed it. Although it complicated his plans, he wasn’t angry. His thin, strangely playful, smile showed how the creature’s resistance really amused him. The nameless macaque shook his head and politely added,“Sorry for that outburst. I let myself get carried away a bit. Y’know, the temperament is sort of my thing. But, brother, please. Just answer my simple question and we can continue westward soon. I know that you know that Shifu needs us. He’s in great danger. That swarm of demons shall devour him soon. Idiot and Little Brother won’t be enough for protection. I can save us.“

Lie gathered the last strength as his head rose from the stinking brown mud beneath. His voice was fragile, the macaque had to lean in to hear properly despite the six ears decorating his head. “I’ve already answered you. Go to Hell and don’t call me your brother.“

A spit landed in the middle of his forehead. The monkey’s eyes flared up. He grabbed the nearest stone and nearly struck the horse’s head with it.

Lie’s heart raced as fast as a rabbit followed by the village hounds. He expected the hit to land any time soon. Thankfully, though, a tall viper demon with a disfigured cheek walked out of the shadows. The bald head retracted and hid in the safe zone of his shoulders when he noticed what the demon monkey was about to do. “I’m sorry to bother you once more, sir. Me and the boys thought of a pretty addition to your plan scheduled on the nearest full moon-“

The rock flew right by the snake’s trembling jaw. Like tiny arrows, numeros splinters caressed his wide scar. The scaly demon thanked the Heavens perhaps for the first time in his miserable life because when he turned around, the stone knocked a hole into the mighty trunk. Without ever looking back, the lone macaque growled, his index finger stretching out from the slim hand,“Golden Wind, this was your last warning. Let’s be honest, ‘thinking’ isn’t your strength. Let that part to me. One last thing, so I don’t forget. Don’t you dare to disturb me ever again. I’ve been holding myself back so long around you I consider it my new record.“

Goosebumps emerged like tiny sharp hills on Golden Wind Viper’s greenish skin. It curled and crinkled as bulging eyes emerged from the skull. Backing away like a defenceless mouse, the sweat drops flooded his temples for the second time and fell to the smelly mud beneath when the nameless demon suddenly turned around. Golden Wind Viper let out a whimper. Before he managed to run back to his troop, the tired monkey sighed and ordered the viper fiend to interrogate the monk’s mount. A clumsy salute and the viper was no more.

Before the nameless one jumped back to the shadows to get some sleep after the rough day and night, the hoarse voice of Ao Lie made him stop and bared teeth. “I may not know who or what you are. But trust me, it won’t take a long time for me to break from these chains. I, Ao Lie, the son of Dragon King of the West Sea, swear to the Jade Emperor and Buddha I shall save my Shifu and brothers from whatever you plan you got.“

“Look at yourself. You can barely keep your eyes open. Stop giving yourself these false chances. Spare yourself and myself the embarrassment.“

“Not in this life nor in the next one if I’m not destined to reach the West. But as long as I breathe, you bet I’ll do my best to do so.“

A long tail swished like a whip, the macaque bounced from the floor of the swamp and gripped on one of the branches of the nearby banyan tree.

“I have one last question for you before your lackeys come to beat me up.“

The macaque smirked, his dark eyes glistened once again and cut the fumes rising from the dirty pool in half. “Then speak your mind up for the last time today, Your Dragon Highness.“

“You think you may know every secret thanks to your six ears. But how are you so confident you know any of us, especially Brother Wukong, so well? We’ve never met.“

The simian didn’t answer. Instead, he let Golden Wind Viper’s belt silence the horse.

Finally, he reached the highest branch. As soon as he climbed up, the cicadas resting on the wood flew up and spreaded on the wide blanket of the sky, which was slowly but surely changing its cool shades of grey to pink and carmine.

He lay down despite the cries and screams coming from underneath and closed his eyes, slowly drifting off. He simply couldn’t be bothered by the suffering of the horse disciple as the dragon prince chose his path himself. Those cries and chokes would end soon anyway.

However, the macaque wasn’t able to find any peace in his sleep. He kept on changing sides, turning from right to left, then from left to right. He cursed under his shallow breath because of his earlier decision to remember the fateful night of finding the black blood of the pale creature. As much as he tried, he couldn’t forget the face of that thing. It always stared back at him from the pitch black of his long dream.

Prolonged, gaunt, protruding.

And those eyes. Those two blackest coals on earth were slowly tugging onto him. The longer he kept looking back into the abyss the more he was getting devoured by the creature inside out. Something crawled on his arms, on his legs, under his skin. He no longer felt the sensation of fighting somebody dangerous.

He’s lost, alone. He’s drowning in the dread as he realises that thing, whatever it is, is clutching onto his mouth and dragging him deeper. As if to turn him into an abomination of its own.

His shallow gasps are no longer enough. For the last time he tries to look behind, to look for the poor trace of remaining light, a place he could escape to. Alas, he found no sun shining in the horizon. Nothing to turn the dreadful curse into dust and ashes. To burn its very presence away until no proof of the thing’s existence remained.

The darkness of those two cursed eyes was gazing at him. Only then the nightmare left him be and the macaque finally took a deep breath in his finally achieved rest.

****

Wukong shot up on his bed. Slowly turning around while scanning his surroundings, he could bet the strange dream occurred only a few minutes ago just as he was slowly dozing off. Now, as he was sheepishly approaching the red window, the rays had already caressed the city’s splendid palette of roofs. The Great Sage was thankful though. The image of strange black eyes was starting to vanish. How he achieved such visions and whose empty stare it was, he had no idea. As far as his attempts to recall anyone with such unique features, the list was getting thinner and thinner till there was nobody left.

Shaking his head, he walked up to the large porcelain bowl painted in deep blue and red. Next to it, a water vessel was sitting, sounds of splashing water echoed in its long neck when the demon picked it up. Slowly pouring the cool water down his head, he occasionally massaged his sore temples. Veins on it were bulging and pumping the boiling blood. The scintillant droplets cascaded down on his naked chest, the drastic change of temperature made it quiver like leaves in the autumn.

Yet, he always felt as if that lingering stare was burning a hole into his brain. To avoid to this day an unfamiliar feeling of dread creeping around the corners of his mind, he directed his attention elsewhere.

He recalled another detail which still managed to unsettle him, though.

Márgerdra didn’t share the room with him last night. She did show up in the monk’s room for a brief talk about the dinner story but she soon vanished once again, never to return.

Where did the witch go after last night? Did she stay with the captain for the rest of the night? Did she like his company more than that of their group? What if something happened to her? Captain Jun was no obstacle for Wukong to fight off and the witch certainly possessed the same set of her amazing combat skills.

Yet there was nobody to have her back. The crane could’ve easily led her to a trap. Wukong was a fool to let her go that easily.

Then, something else crossed his mind. This time, a thought significantly more chilling. A thought well familiar to him. One he’d wanted to turn blind eye to since their reconciliation.

She betrayed them. She betrayed Mei, Shifu, Bajie, Ol’ Sha, Lie. She betrayed him. She made a pact, sold them away. Just to save her own hide…

“Nonsense.“ Wukong gritted his teeth and stomped off to the nearest armchair to sit down and tame the wild herd of his worrisome ideas. Having nobody to talk to, to unburden himself, he whispered the lament under his nose, his trembling hand ruffling the thick thatch of wet hair stuck to his forehead,“C’mon, she wouldn’t. Ever. She’s a friend. Blondie knows when to pull out from the danger. She’s not Yawen either. She might be a foreigner and look weird but… She’s not…evil. Right?“ The low rasp stuck in his throat, unable to come out and carry out any more words. All the simian could do at that moment was to look to the side and face the small bronze mirror left on the low table, the same piece of furniture which carried their hands during the writing lesson. Wukong clearly saw his imperfect reflection. The lips contorted like a wild python crawling across the jungle and the varying length of his face. Underneath, when he took a closer look, Wukong noticed what a pitiful sight he was.

After rubbing face with water and a piece of white cloth, which was lying nearby, the markings on his face were washed away. The lack of paint revealed the dark circles and dry skin under his eyes, no longer joyful, only tired. The words, sentences, feelings, it was all being washed away from the shore of his stranded self, leaving him with nothing. Although, the longer he sat in loneliness, the more taunting the vultures of loathing became. Slowly he began to remember how innocently Márgerdra acted in front of him. How vulnerable she was in privacy. Suddenly, the rage flooded him no matter how much he tried to keep himself in check. His pulse quickened, the stone heart was cracking and beating like a blacksmith’s heavy hammer against his ribcage. His clawed hands dug into the redwood of the armrests. Dozens of splinters stuck under his nails, sinking deeper and deeper into the meat. Red blood trickled down his pads, then down the carved wooden spiral and dripped on the stone floor, creating tiny red suns and stars across the matte grey. Their edges were as sharp as the tips of Wukong’s fangs which shone in the morning sunlight. The fur lining his chiselled chest and abdomen bristled. All of a sudden, Wukong’s right leg shot up and landed on the floor hard, the brisk motion helping the simian to quickly stand up from his seat.

He paced the length of the room. He was beyond being furious. Now, the simplicity of the only emotion nagging onto him kept him on the verge of breakdown.

Uncertainty.

When he thought he was about to lose his mind, the sliding door opened and a person entered.

Wukong fastly turned around in hopes of finding the woman. Although his wish was left unfulfilled, he was still overjoyed for the presence as it finally chased off the dreadful silence where not even the larks sang through.

Before Wukong managed to spat all of his questions, Bajie shot up his hands and informed,“She’s with Her Highness now. Both are sleeping. No need to worry, Big Bro.“

Wukong couldn’t contain himself anymore and snarled,“Why didn’t she then come here?!“

The monkey’s unpleasant manners worked up the former heavenly marshal. “Do I look like I know?! If you want to fight then go up to her and leave my poor hide alone!“ He then uttered,“Already behaving like a jerk from the morning, aye?“

“What did you say, Daizi?“ Wukong’s eyes narrowed until only two slits remained. “Perhaps I didn’t hear you right. Repeat it.“

“Look,“ Bajie rolled his eyes, not giving any attention to his hissing senior,“anything that's going on in your head is beyond my business. Not that I don’t care about ya. Not at all, Big Bro. Sometimes, though, you’re such a tough nut to crack and it’s not that I’m getting paid to ruin my nerves with your tantrums. The same goes for our pretty lady with golden locks. Now, it’d be for the better to calm down, alright? Remember what Shifu always tells us? Inhale, exhale. Again. Don’t let your emotions take over you.“

At first, the Sage unwillingly did as he was told to. Few seconds later, he was breathing in and out spontaneously with maximum ease. His tensed body relaxed. His lashes flickered like butterfly wings once he came back to reality.

Bajie, not waiting for any apology, had taken a seat in the meanwhile and began to feast with fruits presented in the bowl by the window.

The Monkey King leaned against one of the major pillars. He sighed. “What happened last night?“

Sweet bits stuck in Pigsy’s throat, scratching it badly. The middle disciple began to cough and choke and tear up so much Wukong had to tap him in between the shoulder blades. “C’mon. We had a deal, Middle Brother.“

Zhu Bajie hesitated. His gaze lingered on the doorway and briefly thought about the witch. In that very moment, regret spread inside his heart and reigned with an iron fist. Although he was aware of his promise, to upset either Wukong or Márgerdra was his last intention. Not because of fear. He simply didn’t want his close ones to suffer. He already saw enough of that in the witch’s hidden manners.

“Bajie, spit it out.“ Wukong’s hoarse voice pulled the pig out of his thoughts.

“Are you sure, brother?“

The Monkey King simply nodded, no emotion displayed on his face. But Bajie knew all too well how much it was boiling inside the old monkey.

“Promise me that you won’t say a thing to the witch. Now lean over a bit, Big Bro.“

****

Márgerdra’s lashes fluttered as she was waking up. Beside her, the young princess was still snuggling the witch. At first glance, the young girl seemed to be at peace. However, her hand was tightly clutching onto the blanket her advisor threw over her at night. Occasionally, her expression contorted, muscles waved, making her look upset or worried, though it was hardly because of a dream.

The Wolf Witch completely understood the Princess of the Great Tiger Kingdom. The Northerner didn’t feel much better. Indeed, she was glad that at least Mei was able to fall asleep and rest, even if it were only for a while.

Márgerdra cringed as she leaned over in order to peck the princess’ forehead when the younger woman let out a deep sigh. Fortunately, the attempt was successful.

The large blanket with a golden rooster pattern shuffled upon the witch’s struggles to get up from the bed. Her hand was pressing against her stomach while the puffing woman, all too pale for it to be normal, walked towards the green teapot.

The steamy fluffs lingered over the surface of the herbal tea. Its heady aroma spread around and it easily filled Márgerdra’s nostrils. The unmistakable earthy notes of cinnamon and fennel accompanied the slight tingling sensation the ginger caused in the witch’s eyes. Márgerdra wished to drink the liquid as soon as possible, alas, she growled when the somewhat sweet taste soon turned into iron-like as the tea burnt her tongue and cheeks. In her anger, she nearly threw the cup against the floor. Recalling the sleeping girl, she changed her mind at the last second.

Slowly sinking into the armchair, she rubbed her face, the swollen lids heavy from the sleepless night. Her tongue was sliding up and down her mouth and teeth as the Wolf Witch tried to keep herself from puking.

The exasperation slid under her skin, made its way deeper through the flesh and finally settled down around her innards, choking them.

How more useless could the protector get? She hated how much immobile the cramps and the fatigue made her.

The dismal mood didn’t have intentions of abandoning the woman. Even more, it seemed to have intensified because in her vain attempts to focus on the strong first impression, the last night with the captain left Márgerdra with a sour taste in her mouth. The more time had passed, the more rotten the image of the man, deprived from any greatness she once tricked herself into seeing, became. The worst of all, the demoness knew all too well this wasn’t about the captain only.

Her fragile fingers quivered like the few feathers of the caged finch as the despair, the loneliness which was lurking around the corner jumped and dragged Márgerdra into the blackest ooze of her dying self. She no longer fought. She was too tired from the pain twitching the muscles of her otherwise firm belly. She only closed her eyes and let herself be carried away, not knowing the young princess was slowly coming back to her senses.

****

The threads of the setting sun shone through the carved spirals on the shutters into the long corridor inundated by the dim light of the ceramic lamps which were displayed in circular alcoves carved into the cold rock like numerous tiny soldiers on the watch. Some of them were accompanied by small screens with an ivory support and portrayal of the noble peacocks with wide green eyes on their tails, pond herons with blue and white wings, grebes crowned with black and orange crests and lastly the always present proud black and white cranes dancing in the snowy country with their bright flaming red crowns tilted back, the birds seemed to reign over any other birds, the sky and the land in all the paintings and embroidery.

The soles of two pairs of feet softly landed one after another on the floor, neither of the visitors knowing they were secretly followed by a boar barely managing to balance on the roof above. Although Márgerdra had her suspicions after a roof tile slid down and broke into tens of miniature pieces. Fortunately, the presence of the guard captain was too alluring for her to go and investigate.

Initially, the Captain of the Royal Guard observed the foreign-looking woman sparsely. His confidence returned fast, though, and the man raised a question,“Do you enjoy your stay here so far?“

The right corner of the woman’s lip rose, something the captain had no chance of seeing as he was walking by her left,“Why wouldn’t I? The meal is delicious, we have a roof above our heads, we’re well protected thanks to you, captain.“

“You’re too generous, Miss Yaling.“

“I don’t think so, captain.“ The couple stopped what allowed the witch to face the dashing soldier. His jet-black hair, which was finally allowed to throw glints as the captain freed the strands from under his helmet, was tied up in a knot allowing the long contours of his noble face to be better observed by the she-wolf’s watchful gaze. Márgerdra felt like fish being thrown back into the water. She finally took hold of her cards and she was grasping onto them as if she were gripping on the reins of a horse brought to be tamed. “I’m being fairly honest with you. Or do you want to tell me you’re not much used to such good manners, perhaps?“

Her sultry voice made the crane demon chuckle. Before Jun could add anything, Márgerdra seized the opportunity,“Am I dreaming right now? Is that a smile I see on your face, captain? I thought you can’t do much apart from your stern expression. It looks like you’re full of surprises. My husband could learn from you at times with his difficult nature.“

The words made Jun laugh out loud, this time. “Miss Yaling, I could pass as a sort of an enemy of your husband. Yet you dare to make me an example for him to follow?“

“I might have married him,“ Márgerdra came up to him, making sure her natural scent highlighted by the flowery perfume was presented properly to the man in front of her, and whispered with a foxy smirk,“But I won’t pretend he’s flawless.“

“What a cruel woman you can be, so harsh on your own lover.“ Jun returned the favour and closed the moderate distance between them. Yet his mind had always stayed bewildered by the striking features of the beauty. “At least you’re not as cruel as somebody else I know. Though you both have a similar, let’s say, approach to conversation.“

“I know very well where you’re aiming, captain, and I’m not sure whether I should take this as an offence or not. I am no Miss Yawen.“

“Your words carry the weight of a threat but your eyes are still smiling and so I’m sorry but I just cannot take your warning seriously no matter how much I truly desire to do so.“

“What a long sentence. I’ve never witnessed anyone so well articulated. That makes me happy.“

“May I ask why?“ Jun slid his hands carefully around the blonde's thin waist. Her skin radiated under the blue silk, an experience so magnetic the crane couldn’t help but give it a small squeeze.

Muscles of Márgerdra’s right leg stiffened at the last second. Her whole limb felt as if it were on pins and needles. Like by magic, she fought off the urge to twist and bark. Though, taking control over the fist and not punching the man in the middle of his face proved to be so much more difficult. After all, Jud had zero of Wukong’s charm and friendliness. Only the surrounding circumstances and Márgerdra’s own stubbornness to achieve her goal saved Jun from carrying away a bloody nose.

“It means you’re going to be a delight to ask a few questions.“ The witch forced a chuckle and easily slipped from his grasp. In a moment, her long lean back presented itself to the captain, meanwhile she was marching towards the large open window with the view on the whole city and the wide hills and mountains behind.

It didn’t take long for Jun to take a seat on the windowsill next to her.

“Captain,“ the woman started coldly,“as I mentioned I’ll be honest with my intentions. The bandits were able to infiltrate not only past the city gates but even into the palace. Which means they must be well familiar with the infrastructure. This fact leads me to the inevitable question whether they are former residents. Or whether they have somebody to rely on inside. Although, there’s still the secret third option.“

“Which is?“

“Both, naturally. Do you have any idea? Before you get suspicious, let me clear some things up. My family is now directly involved in whatever this mess is. I want to know my enemy before I get to snap their neck for endangering my little sister.“

Jun became more relaxed in the presence of the enigmatic woman. He leaned back, his gaze lowered, focusing on the folds of the light fabric wrapping around her hips and thighs. “I can see how you charmed Huang. Very well. I decided to trust you. For now.“

The Wolf Witch cocked her eyebrow but kept smiling, even though these oddly familiar manners unnerved her more and more with each second passed.

Rolling her blue eyes and puckering red lips the blonde went on with her act of a seductress. However, inside, something poked at her. Both Jun and Wukong shared her husband’s confidence. However Jun also carried his raven black hair, his tall stature, his piercing gaze and sharp nose. Those bits and pieces of her lover were so much stronger here than in Wukong. Yet, she felt so much safer, so much alive and like herself in the presence of the monkey demon. Not around the soldier. Neither around Ereanth.

“You’re right. The bandits did originate from our citizens and even from our ranks. They might also get some help from someone around here.“

As her ears finally heard the news she hoped for, the witch relaxed, stretched her back and propped her head against her palm. “Good. Go on, captain. Who is the ‘help’?“

“I’m not so sure. You may want to ask your husband. I bet you two lead wonderful debates each night.“

“Is it Miss Yawen?“

“Might be,“ Jun scratched his beak-like nose since he did his best not to focus on the woman whose heaving bust was perfectly illuminated by the lamps and the weak distant sun. The orange flames created a perfect mix of the light’s warm tones on her creamy skin. “I wouldn’t be much surprised.“

“Why so?“

When Jun didn’t answer, Márgerdra inconspicuously added,“Is she related to the fiends in any way? Well, apart from being a snake herself. Literally and metaphorically.“ Even though she muttered the words, Jun clearly heard the venom in them and grinned broadly.

Was his gaze also this shallow? Márgerdra thought and she caught herself not actually wanting to know the answer. She wasn’t even certain who was the target of her question. All in all, the thought sent shivers down her spine. Something she hadn’t experienced in years. After all, until now, she’d revelled even in the most superficial attention given to her.

“Golden Wind Viper, the leader of the bandits, used to go under the name Jin and he was one of the highest ranking officials in our army. Yawen is his twin sister. Those two have been inseparable and you can imagine what sort of beasts they were and still are.“

“Yes, I can. The same way I can hear the hatred whenever you say her name. From my own experience, hatred and passion are two sides of the same coin. You and Miss Yawen were having an affair, weren’t you?“

The remark pulled Jun out of his trance. His knuckles turned white, his eyes widened meanwhile Jun’s full lips parted.

“My apologies, captain. This was highly inappropriate from me. Let’s change our topic, shall we? We started this evening as allies, friends even,“ the witch pushed herself closer until their knees touched and though she didn’t drop her alluring smile, she visibly softened her gaze which created the much needed effect. Her look was a brief one and she soon focused on the charming landscape beneath. She did let him stare a bit longer, however, while she adored the chirping of thrushes which were hopping on the rooftops but mainly in the treetops of pines like naughty children, a small protest against the setting sun. The murmur of the river played gently into the lullaby of the upcoming evening. Little by little, the Heavenly horses of the Jade Emperor were running back to the stables and as they did, the numerous clouds were getting dragged away by the immense herd. “I’ve never seen such beautiful nature. Not even back home. Or while on the journey with Wei. Truly, this is a jaded treasure one shouldn’t touch and harm.“

Captain Jun cleared his throat,“Precisely, Miss Yawen. That’s the reason why our dynasty settled down in these vast lands.“

“Has it been a long time since then?“ Márgerdra didn’t look at him yet she sensed the growing tension and added,“I don’t see the city much expanded beyond the walls and so I’d like to congratulate you on keeping the mountain mostly untouched with all the citizens around.“

The argument worked with the captain and a proud smile settled on his lips. “Her Majesty came to these lands a long time ago. She was fed up with the hypocrisy of the world and desired to create a place for us, demons, to live in and to cultivate ourselves.“

“How? By eating people?“ Márgerdra snorted, bitterly amused by the story she heard so many times before. It was a lie she herself used to claim many centuries ago. “By stealing one’s life essence in a blink of an eye? Because this sounds like an excuse to become a power-hungry tyrant yourself. No offence, of course.“

“You have a sharp tongue, Miss Yaling. I must admit I like that in a woman. But be careful, you’re speaking with the Captain of the Royal Guard.“

“And you’re speaking with…“ In the heat of the moment, the blonde’s tongue nearly slipped as she was prepared to announce her title. She quickly had to change her reply. “My apologies, captain. It’s just…“ Searching for the right words, Márgerdra decided to discreetly admit her deepest fear. Sighing, she hung her head low to watch over her nails and palms and muttered,“Please, don’t take any offence in my words as my rage wasn’t directed at you. Simply put, you remind me of somebody I used to know. It was most inappropriate to drag you into matters you know nothing about. I offer you my deepest apologies for that, captain.“

Márgerdra shot up her head, her expression stern, ridden from any deeper emotions. Yet, her words were truthful, spoken with vigour and honesty, the captain had no reason for doubt.

This time, it was Jun who snorted. Not from amusement, though. His eyes glistened like lightning striking from the indigo sky.

“You are truly strange,“ he directed his gaze into the unknown distance of the mountain range while simultaneously resting his chin on the formed fist,“my aunt is going to have a wonderful celebration with you around.“

Fortunately, this remark led Márgerdra to a newly formed plan. She wanted to know more about the water source she discovered in the chambers. Now was the perfect time. “Yes, the celebration. I wonder what the feast is going to be like.“

“Wonderful just as always. Though, it might be ameliorated this year.“

The spark in her sultry voice was brought to life once again,“How so, captain? Do you prepare, let’s say, a special present for Her Majesty?“

“To be honest, she’s preparing it for herself.“

“Are you not going to tell me?“ Although the captain’s wild eyes flared up with dangerous flames, Márgerdra’s daring nature couldn’t be scared away and the woman continued with an absolute ease. “Captain Jun, I hope you do realise I’ve been telling you things I wouldn’t announce to many people and that I’ve declared I have no intentions of betraying your trust. After all, I’m all but at your mercy right now. Don’t think I’m naive. I know your hand on the hilt of your sword isn’t twitching for no reason. I also know you’ve noticed the whip dangling under my robes and that I pose a threat to you.“ The man clenched his jaw once Márgerdra motioned towards his right hand seemingly casually resting on the pommel adorned with jades and emeralds of the curved sword. “It would be utterly foolish to try and assure you with words only that I became warier over the course of the past few days. I’m not afraid to pay the highest price in case you truly obtain the impression I might be a spy or even worse, a danger to your loved ones. I can be a woman of many lies and deceit. Yet, strangely, or rather ironically, the honour isn’t a foreign word for me. We have a common enemy and a common goal - to keep our families safe. So if you think I’m lying to you and have ulterior motives, don’t hesitate,“ the long sleeve rolled up and the demoness stretched her right arm on the table next to them,“unsheathe your weapon and strike.“

Despite how quickly the foreigner saw through the soldier’s intentions and worries, Jun remained equally composed,“Do you recognise the weight of your words, Miss Yaling?“

“I do. So should you, Captain Jun.“

Bajie, who until now had been silently cursing under his breath while trying to find the safest position on the roof, went completely pale. He brought his large palm closer to his ear. The old wood of his diminished rake scraped his shaking finger.

Jun paused. Eyeing the woman for a moment longer and replaying her invitation over and over again, he came to the final conclusion.

In a blink of an eye, the Captain of the Royal Guard unsheathed the shiny blade and brought it down upon the woman’s bare arm.

Bajie’s heart missed a beat. His eyes watered, his mouth agape yet no grunt or a yell escaped from the horrified boar. He was too far away. All he could do was to watch the witch’s arm being chopped off. He saw the bloodied limb falling to the floor. He saw the mutilated woman scream in pain and cry for help, for the unbearable pain to stop only for the soldier to cut off her head, as well.

At least that was the scene his mind pictured in that sole moment of pure dread. Because the reality made him shiver, nearly shed a tear, from true happiness, although he still cursed himself for not choosing a wiser spot or a hideout.

The blade stayed lingering right above the elbow. The soldier offered the witch a smug smile when he saw that not only she didn’t budge, Márgerdra never stopped piercing him with her icy gaze either. Neither did her breathing become irregular.

For a long while, they remained in their places, unmoving like the aeons old two mountains of the universe.

Slowly sliding his sword back into the red-gold scabbard with a flaming blue feather emblem, captain Jun returned to his seat visibly well amused,“You’re truly something, Miss Yaling. Your courage matches your beauty. Since you managed to convince me I will share some information under one condition.“

Márgerdra crossed her legs. “If it’s related to me keeping my tongue behind my teeth, so be it. That won’t pose a problem to me.“

“That’s not the case.“

The witch cocked her fair eyebrow and pouted her cherry lips. The root of her nose wrinkled slightly but the Lady Wolf Witch did nothing else.

“I suspect your husband must truly adore you. How couldn’t he? Nobody could ever reach your beauty, not even the Lady of the Moon herself. I wonder what you really are. What sort of treasures and flowers you hide under all those garments. What your sweetest fruit tastes like.“

The blonde laughed out loud while her fingertips caressed the bare collarbone. Her provocative eyes glinted in the approaching darkness. She loved every bit of his attempt to chase her. “Men are truly simple creatures! Never ever in my life I’ve heard somebody say something so lewd yet so poetic. Captain, you’re lucky you’re this handsome and you know your way around the words.“

“Is it a ‘yes’, then?“

Bajie stiffened. He was utterly appalled by the soldier’s courage and even more, the witch’s pleased behaviour and playfulness, though the pig demon had been a witness to her foxy manners before.

“What do you think when you see a woman smile in the light of the rising moon?“ She drew closer and waited for the captain’s own response. It didn’t take long for his right arm to envelop her hip.

The crane demon leaned over to whisper in her ear. His fingertips delightfully brushed against Márgerdra’s ear lobe and his breath tickled the side of her neck.

His voice was low, slightly nasal, inaudible for the most part for Pigsy. However Márgerdra heard every single word he aimed at her. The edge hidden in the plain sight of his faint smile also didn’t escape her notice. “My aunt used to be one of the Immortal Cranes on Mount Kunlun. She served the Immortals whenever they came. However she disliked some of their decisions and didn’t appreciate that some of the cranes and dragons weren’t rewarded enough for hard work. You see, we used to carry Immortals, we were their messengers, rides, servants and even protectors if needed. Yet our efforts to cultivate ourselves were never enough. My aunt decided to leave the place and come down to lower regions where she could continue without the Immortals. However, she was considered to be one of the most reliable and capable cranes there. They didn’t want her to leave for she’d even taken an oath. In the end, it led to a rebellion.“

“You keep saying ‘we’. Were you also there?“

“Yes.“ Jun grew more melancholic with each word. “My parents, my brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, grandparents. I was only a freshly hatched colt. My aunt was the only one to survive and we both shall never forget that ‘punishment’ of Immortals, the old bastards backed up by the Jade Emperor.“ His spat landed on the floor in front of them. “I hope he’ll get what’s coming for him.“

The conscience was biting onto Márgerdra. She was well familiar with the captain’s pain and sorrow. “Captain, please, accept my condolences.“

For a while, they kept on being silent as two mice. Jun couldn’t help but bitterly sigh upon the memories flooding in. “Good thing the Kinbutcher wrecked the Heavens back in the day before he turned his back on the rest of us.“

The name, which Jun barked out, rang a bell, however Márgerdra couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “I’m sorry. Who?“

“The Kinbutcher,“ another spit flew through the air,“Sun Wukong. One of the mightiest demons in existence. The bastard who cultivated himself until he got strong enough. When the Jade Emperor thought he was too much of a threat he decided to listen to his rats and tame the Monkey King…“

“I know this story, captain. Don’t think I’m that unfamiliar with the local legends,“ Márgerdra rolled her eyes,“I only haven’t heard that nickname. Did I miss something?“

The soldier chuckled, his fingers curled until they reminded of talons. “Sun Wukong turned on us the day the young monk freed him from Buddha’s imprisonment. Since then he's been murdering his fellow demons on sight. One by one.“ His teeth clicked next to Márgerdra's ear. “Hence the nickname. He’s just a puppet now. Both he and the Tang monk be damned. If only we got them as soon as possible. To hear that wretched macaque cry over his ticket to freedom being eaten alive by us is going to be music to my ears. Just the fact he shall finally understand how much he screwed over himself and how far he’s fallen from grace while we ascend thanks to the knowledge and immortality gained from the Golden Cicada’s tender meat…“

He didn’t need to finish his sentence. The pieces of the complicated puzzle started coming together. The witch understood most of his outrage. The betrayal, the sorrow, the hatred and loneliness were old friends to her. But she could not shake off the feeling of dread when she thought of all the spilled blood.

Sanzang had been kind and she could not think of a single day she wished any harm to him. The young man didn’t pretend to be generous. Simply, his soul was indeed a blessing to anyone he spoke to. His disciples were no different despite their flaws. Inside, all the Pilgrims possessed courageous hearts. Just like her little plum Mei. The idea that Jun would go after them in his bloodlust and blind hatred crushed Márgerdra’s soul.

To think she once thought similarly and not only herself but also the one once so dear to her cold wolf heart…

“Captain, your story is a heartbreaking one. I’m sorry to hear about such a tragedy…“ The woman attempted to change the topic despite the fact she was trapped between disliking the captain because of his family’s future plans and feeling sorry for the crane demon.

“That is alright, Miss Yaling. It’s been a long time. Though the Dynasty of the Azure Crane doesn’t forget that easily. We will have our revenge. We just need to wait a little bit longer. You see, the little crane baby wasn’t the only thing my aunty managed to take in all that haste.“

“If so, what was that other ‘thing’?“

“Two seeds of two precious trees. Once was supposed to be a present, a symbol of divine nobility, for the Jade Emperor and Xiwangmu. The other one’s a fig tree which can give up to twenty immortality fruits. Now, the trees are highly guarded in the upper gardens and the palace residents aren’t allowed to freely speak of them. Even Miss Yawen hasn’t been told the whole truth about them, only miserable bits, though the harlot thinks otherwise.“

The shared secrets widened Márgerdra’s eyes. She was finally back on the track and she wasn’t going to let go of her lead, not even in a dream.

She kept her tone gentle like a morning fog, a perfect veil for her real intentions. “Then why are you telling me your secrets? I know I’ve caught your attention. But even the Tang Emperor’s concubines cannot feel safe with him. Is it that you can easily snap my neck if I betray you?“

“Precisely.“ Perhaps for the first time, Jun’s smile froze, he slowly blinked as if to drive away the gloomy thoughts. However, he continued to caress the woman’s cheek with all tenderness. Soon he came back and his sweet whisper went on,“Did I say I’ve never seen anyone with such marvellous eyes like yours? So pretty in colour. Those two splendid shades, my darling. I can’t decide whether I desire the amazing waves to wash over my body in your left eye or to fly high up in the clear sky of your right eye. Your lips, they seem like the sweetest lychee in the world. You can’t imagine how much I desire to explore their divine taste…“

The Wolf Witch grinned. Despite she’d heard such flattery before she couldn’t exactly deny the crane demon didn’t manage to stroke her ego. “Is that so, sir?“

Jun nodded while giving out a silent sigh.

“In that case go on,“ while speaking, Márgerdra brushed her lips against his. At the last second, when the captain was prepared to deepen the fleeting touch, she pulled away, her palm pressing into his tunic interlaced with gold threads, a pleasant change for his usual armour,“but you better hold onto your part of the deal, Captain Jun. Don’t you forget, I’m doing you a favour. I’m still a married woman and my husband’s waiting for me. What’s the real deal about the fig tree?“

“Very well,“ Jun finally pulled away, too, though the eagerness in his glistening eyes remained. “There are twenty fruits in total growing on it. When the right time comes, one can eat them. The fig shall give you additional strength, it shall also grant you immortality. You won’t ever need to worry about old age catching up to you, marking your youth with terrible scars. Instead, your body shall become lighter, eternal, its marvellous beauty preserved forever.“ Jun leaned over and deeply inhaled Márgerdra’s smell. Simultaneously, his hand slipped around her waist again, warming the skin under the woman’s brocade skirt studded with carmine peonies and pink magnolia flowers.

“Immortality?“ The witch snorted. Like a wasp trying to get into the beehive, she was searching for another way to unravel the knot. To make sure her plan would work, her hands once again started rubbing his steel-like shoulders. “Is this vanity all such a treasure holds or are you hiding more from me, dashing Captain Jun?“

The strategy seemed to have worked out.

The captain broadly grinned. His head tilted backwards as if the demon was thriving in the intimate attention. The delight intensified in both when the foreigner started stroking his muscled chest. At first, Márgerdra adored his desperate response to her touch as the captain, equally eager, grasped onto her firm thigh. His thumb massaged the side of it, making slow circles around, something her Ereanth used to do. However, Márgerdra was now seeing the other side of the guard captain. No. Of her former husband. The memories flushed her all at once. She recalled the side she was always turning blind eye to. Something she willingly buried in the back of her mind simply because of her inner desire to achieve peace. To settle down. To start a family. “Who knows, my beauty. Maybe, it’s like you said. It should be added that the fruit can even heal the most fatal wounds, bringing the seemingly dead back to the world of the living. To say the least, it’s quite a win if you get your grasp on it. Unless you eat the unripe fruit. Not only it shall crumble in between your fingers, its ash is poisonous and kills anyone holding it.“

“That, my wonderful darling sir, I can trust you on. But tell me one more thing before our time’s up.“ Getting more nervous about the realisation kicking in again, this time stronger than ever before, she straightened up and drew her neck away from the man’s lips.

“Anything for you.“ Though the words belonged to the captain, all the witch saw was a green-eyed man from her past.

“The trees of the Immortals must be great possessions. How do you supply them, then? I suspect you must be using another source than the river running through the city…“

It wasn’t the annoyance the she-wolf saw there but rather lightning of fury and suspicion. His reply was evenly sharp though Márgerdra clearly heard his effort to stay civil with her. Whether it was out of politeness or out of respect, the witch had no idea. “Yes, there’s a great lake behind the mountain. It’s located on a vast rocky platform with a strong stream. We don’t need to ever fear for it or the lake to run out dry. Thanks to it…“

“...the two halves of the city, the palace and the gardens are equally supplied with enough fresh water with the river being a nice back-up,“ the witch finished the sentence, leaving the captain with wrinkled eyebrows and pursed lips. “If there’s a platform like that right behind the palace, aren’t you afraid of Golden Wind Viper’s attack from there?“

The captain let out a bark of laughter,“The fiend would never dare to cross such a high peak even though he could easily infiltrate Her Majesty’s palace this way. A beast is guarding and tending the stream as it deems the water as its rightful home. The creature is dangerous. Occasionally we can hear its roar every full moon when it comes to scout the surroundings.“

“Aren’t you afraid of it, dashing sir?“

“You said it yourself. I’m a dashing soldier. The fear is the ultimate unknown for me. Her Majesty made a pact with it anyway. We feed it and give it offerings and the beast lets us use the water. You know what they say. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.“

“I see.“ Márgerdra let Jun plant a few kisses on her jaw and neck while she squinted, a sign of a pursuit for another question. When he leaned in to steal a kiss of her own lips, she stopped him once again.

“You’re never going to let me claim my reward, are you?“

“I am, dashing sir. But you woke the curiosity within. What does the beast look like?“

“I don’t know, I’ve only seen it from a distance. It’s probably a distant relative of the Dragon King. Now face me, my beauty, and let us enjoy the last touch of our deal.“

Although the soldier’s desire was undeniable, the Wolf Witch, like a sly fox, tried her luck for the last time,“Do you think you could sneak past it?“

“Of course. Aunty said that the beast recognizes her and me by our scents. She says she introduced me to the stream guardian when I was but a little chick. Since then, quite a long time has passed, a few centuries. But the beast still remembers who saved it from the rock crushing its foot.“

The two looked each other in the eye. Márgerdra was now sure. Ereanth’s stare has turned shallow, vain. The one she preserved a false image of. A made up memory of a person she idealised to fulfil her desperate dreams.

No! This was Jun. Somebody completely else. Somebody whom she didn’t fail. Somebody who didn’t fail her. No, no. Ereanth would never fail her or anybody else. He was a courageous hero. A great husband. It was all her fault they were no more. She didn’t meet the expectations. She betrayed her love.

Jun’s looking at her, his expression soft. On his pale forehead, coal-black brows faintly raised, his lips parted.

Márgerdra focused on that. This was the reality. Jun was real. He was the one with her now.

Márgerdra closed her eyes as she leaned into the kiss and soon she deepened the union. Jun gladly took his chance. He moaned, enjoyed the feel of her tongue pressing against his, her leg hooked around his hip as Jun’s fingers dug into the flesh.

Márgerdra wished to cherish the moment as she’d dreamed since she had first laid eyes on the handsome soldier. But now, she was clutching her eyes just to avoid the disappointing reality, the state of her sorrowful circumstances she landed herself into. She had no idea that Pigsy, the one who now knew what not to mention to his senior brother, was a witness to her silent lament.

In her soul, the woman gritted her teeth. Yet her restless mind always brings her to her husband.

The flower of anguish bloomed inside her heart. Its iron petals stabbed her, cut her, made her bleed like never before. The green-eyed man was looking at her, though his gaze was as hollow as a trunk of a rotting tree. His touch slid past every part of her body and yet he remained so distant as if he wished not to be with her, not to claim the happiness of their wedding night, such intimacy where they finally promise one to another. Then again, he did protect her when needed. He was always there when she was upset or unsure. He even tried to find solutions to many of her problems. Although was there any inner fire beside the friendliness? Was he listening to Márgerdra? Or was he only hearing the witch out? He was an ally, a friend. But was he ever more? A close friend? Though she did care about him, had he been ever something more to her? Had she been more to him?

Did they, in the times of despair, loneliness and hatred, confuse their feelings, tricking themselves into something that could never be?

The cruel truth she knew long ago but refused to admit was deadening. Settling down, it crushed her like thousands of stones which crumbled down the steep slope on the day Wukong saved her.

If only the Sage hadn’t caught her on time. She wished that at least one of the stones had hit her head on that day and for her limp body to be swallowed by the mass of rocks never to be taken out from under the pile just for it to become the next meal for vermin.

A grave without the title, a single name with no surname. A girl that never came to grow up and stand up for her beloved big sister, their gentle master who they deemed a father, her little…

Driving away the anger, the hatred, the sorrow, the regret, she somehow convinced herself to give into the pleasure. That was until she felt something long stroking her nape dangerously close to her golden mane. Before Jun’s hand reached her hair fully, the Wolf Witch broke the kiss, the act which left the breathless crane not only speechless, but his brows furrowed with deep wrinkles by the root of his nose too.

The lamps in the long empty hallway went out. The cold wind rose and claimed even the tiniest flame there.

“Miss Yaling,“ Jun stretched out to tenderly touch the blonde woman who was now looking past his shoulder into the nothingness like the most wonderful statue devoid of any life,“is everything alright? Did I overstep the boundaries?“

He gave her knee a little shake when she kept on being silent. “Miss Yaling, please, say something.“

“No, this isn’t your fault. It’s just that our deal was about a kiss, wasn’t it, Captain of the Guard?“ Her voice was monotonous, yet it carried the unmistakable hint of steel authority.

Watching her stand up all of a sudden, Jun stuttered, confused by her actions,“Yes, it was. Miss, if I truly offended you, please, know that was not my intention.“

“I do trust you, soldier,“ Márgerdra straightened her light blue gown. She walked up to the sitting man. Her hand cupped his cheek and the woman gently brushed his lips with her thumb. The fingertip carefully wiped off the red lipstick from Jun. Without hesitation, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the tempting moment of their last intimate touches. “There you go,“ she whispered and tenderly slid the back of her palm down Jun’s cheek,“make sure to be properly cleaned before you meet Her Majesty.“

“Or Yawen, I’d like to add. She can be quite possessive and get jealous no matter how much the person wants to distance themselves from her.“

“If you say so.“ The waves of blue, red, gold and pink fabric swished through the air and the soldier now saw only Márgerdra’s back. The long skirt like a long veil dragged behind her.

Quickly grasping onto his senses, he shouted not caring if anyone would hear him,“Is this the last time we saw each other?“

The woman replied immediately,“In this manner? Of course. I’ve told you. I’m married. This was just a business. Though it was truly a pleasure to meet you, Captain Jun.“

“Don’t you wish for a divorce? I could give you a better life.“

Márgerdra stopped in her tracks. Deeply inhaling, her eyes darted, her lips quivered. If only you knew I already am…

“I already have a better life. Farewell, captain. I hope to see you soon under other circumstances.“

She quickly marched away. After turning around a few corners, she started arching over. She felt her knees had become wobbly, weak. Soon, she had to grasp on her abdomen.

****

The blonde witch shuffled across the hallway. The blush on her cheeks didn’t leave her. It was a miracle she convinced the princess she was alright and that her sour mood was caused solely by menstruation. The princess, a kind and innocent soul indeed, even offered her another sandbag so the witch wouldn’t fear the one she had received wasn’t enough.

‘Don’t worry, Márgerdra. I still have three left. So if you’re gonna need one more, just say.’ No matter how miserable they were, Mei’s cheerful voice always encouraged the witch. In her thoughts, the Northerner thanked the Heavens she had the luck of meeting the young heiress.

Finally, she was in front of the door to her room. Márgerdra sighed in relief that she could change into not only different clothes but also to change the sandbag she was currently using as the item was completely soaked from her blood.

With a faint hope that the room was empty and waiting just for her, she slid the door open.

The little bit of the happiness from the brief morning interaction with the princess vanished into thin air.

“Brother, no matter how much you’re going to insist that I’m hiding something, you’re never going to be right. I told ya everything. It was merely a brief conversation which ended with the talk about the beast-“

The witch’s sudden appearance in the room cut off Bajie in the middle of his sentence.

Márgerdra gathered the last of her strength and straightened up to show off her full height. She didn’t need to say a word, Pigsy understood everything that was written on her face. Simply wishing a good morning, he used his chance and ran out from the room, leaving the reserved Wolf Witch and the furious Monkey King alone.

She didn’t need to guess twice what his first words would be.

“Where were you?!“

“Chasing the heavenly horses of the Jade Emperor, what did you think?“

“Very funny.“

“Just as funny as you sending Bajie to spy on me.“ Sighing, she took the jug of water and drank from it, not caring whether it looked disgusting or impolite.

“So?“ the monkey folded his arms and began pacing around the room,“You’re giving me a headache, woman. Next time I’m tying a little bell ‘round your neck.“

“Careful with your words, Wukong. That attitude may backfire soon,“ still catching her breath from taking such a sip, Márgerdra nonchalantly wiped her mouth with the narrow-cuffed sleeve, “Now, excuse me. I need to change.“

She stepped out but the Great Sage soon blocked her as he stood right into the middle of her way. “Move away.“

“I’m not your lap dog. Neither am I a circus monkey. Don’t think I’m gonna dance as you whistle no matter how sour your mood is.“ Wukong furrowed his brows even more when the witch paused and observed him in complete silence.

The sunrays were sliding down his cheeks and only now Márgerdra realised why his face looked strange this morning. She snorted through the pain. She had to avert the attention somehow and this was a perfect chance to do so. “Yes, now I see why you’re so unpleasant. You must be missing your eyeliner, don’t you?“

Wukong pouted but didn’t let himself throw out of balance. He offered her an equally mocking reaction,“Yeah, you could use some for those swollen lids, too. I thought Ox-Head came from Hell to say a little hi to me when you walked in.“

It seemed to have worked on the already irritated demoness. She seized the few clothes that were thrown over the armchair, her red nails digging so deep into the fine fabric they nearly tore the skirt and trousers, and marched behind the folding screen in the far corner of the wide bedroom. While passing Wukong, the Wolf Witch didn't forget to growl at him to which the monkey demon only offered a provocative grin. Once she was out of sight, however, his frown was immediately back.

Sliding down the armchair and scratching under his chin, a peculiar iron smell reached his nostrils, however he paid it no attention. The simian barked,“So, are you gonna tell me, blondie?“

All he was met with was a dull silence.

When Wukong was about to smash the armrests with his palms to stand up, Márgerdra muttered under her nose as she hung her blue skirt over the upper edge of the screen,“Jun made me think of something. Let’s say the evening didn’t go as smoothly as I had planned. Though I dug out some information from him.“

The Sage chewed onto nothing. In his mind, scenes of various inappropriate images played over and over and made his skin crawl.“Blondie, I do know you’re a tough one,“ he motioned to his left eye, although the witch couldn’t see a thing,“I know from experience you’re a really good fighter. But I… Did he..y’know…“ The monkey demon had to grit his teeth before finishing what disturbed him the most,“...touch you?“

“Excuse me? Don’t be ridiculous, Wukong,“ she retorted and kept trying to scratch away the dried blood from her skin in the quickest manner possible. Her hand rubbed the rag up and down. She didn’t stop scuffing the skin even when the irritated place turned red and started itching and burning.

“Look, I get this is none of my business but…“

Fed up with the cloth being already soaked with the fluid and new trickles running down her thighs, she raised her voice,“Then why do you keep asking?“

It wasn’t the question which took Wukong back but rather the firmness within. No matter how much Márgerdra pretended to be alright, how much she tried to hide behind the screen or covered her face, the fragile shake under the surface couldn’t possibly escape Wukong’s sharp ears. “I care about you. Can I not know my dearest friend’s struggles and to help you out? It hurts much less when two share it.“

He saw how her shadow, which fell on the bright yellow paper, froze for a brief moment.

Immediately, though, the black silhouette quickly put on a long robe and tied a sash around the waist as the Wolf Witch came back to senses. “This isn’t what I expected of you.“

“What?!“

“Not in a bad way… Sorry, I don’t know what I exactly mean by that myself.“

The monkey lowered his gaze. Suddenly, the painful lump in his throat was easily swallowed with no traces of strange anxiousness left behind. Still, it wasn’t enough for him. “Would you like to talk about it?“

Though they were rather stereotypical, Márgerdra caught that strange friendly warmth radiating from the disciple again who wasn’t even that near to her. The need to hug him and to be hugged back was building up. It was a strange yet pleasant thought which left her tongue wordless.

The Wolf Witch wasn’t the only one who was slowly being driven crazy by the stillness of the moment.

The Monkey King rubbed his hands together. Although it wasn’t the flames of rage burning him like usually. Now, he felt the unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty made him to be of two minds. Thinking he should have chosen a better approach, he tried to calm down by taking deep breaths and massaging his left palm.

Fortunately, she did give him the answer,“No, not now… But thank you. I just…“

“Yes?“

“No, it’s nothing,“ the woman changed her mind at the last second. “Can I bother you with something else, though?“

“Blondie, you bother me with many things, just not with your well-being,“ Wukong uttered while he nonchalantly crossed his arms,“What do you need?“

“Mei had tea prepared for us early in the morning. Please, go and tell the servants to prepare the same mixture again.“

“What mixture?“

“They shall know. Don’t worry about that.“

“Hey, Missy Prissy, stop this nonsense and tell me directly what you need. My patience is running thin. By the way, what’s taking you so long behind that screen today-“ The monkey fell silent in a heartbeat. The smell from before, the one which was coming from the witch’s direction, rose up his nostrils again. His eyes widened, though his curiosity took over him and the simian peeked behind the screen.

The bitter taste of his stomach’s content made its way to his mouth.

But he managed to hold himself back when he caught Márgerdra changing the dirty sandbag for a new one. Her weak and shaking hand tossed the old one into the bowl with water. Though she tried to be careful, a few red drops spilled onto the floor. She cursed under her breath even more when she noticed the hairy head of the monkey demon peeking at her.

“What are you doing, you moron?! Don’t you hate looking at ladies?“

“I do! Just thought you were injured or something!“ He yelled back, never hiding his twitching eye and mouth twisting in disgust.

“You’re going to get injured soon if-“ The witch pulled the long purple robe even tighter to her body and remade the strong knot around her waist so as not to show a single bit of her naked skin. Angry and tired beyond belief, she was prepared to scorch Wukong with a lightning bolt from her palm. However, the simian took her by surprise again.

Straightforward as always, he simply shook his head.

Cocking his eyebrow, he motioned with his chin forward and awaited her silent approval to get closer. Strangely enough, not one of them uttered anything and yet, they perfectly understood their companion.

Márgerdra nodded back. Only then he carefully shuffled towards her. Slowly, he knelt down. The witch gently lifted the hanging brocade. Her right leg showed itself to the Sage to be inspected by the disciple.

Wukong’s fingertips slid down the front of her thigh. Her skin was warm, perhaps even warmer than the sun outside. Under his touch, her muscles flexed and it was only now that Wukong realised how strong her legs actually were and that her kicks could truly become lethal. Upon Márgerdra’s sharp inhale, the monkey demon took a piece of fabric, soaked it in water and began to wash the demoness’ skin.

The Wolf Witch could no longer hide how much his actions astonished her. Wukong, a hot-headed brute at first sight with a seemingly unending amount of sarcastic remarks, was now so tender and discreet, never casting a single look under the robe. Instead, he gathered all his patience, even held back his slight disgust. Márgerdra’s lips and swollen eyelids quivered. During the demon’s first touches she was clutching onto her collar. Now, her hands relaxed and rested by the length of her body. Even more, after a slight hesitation she decided to rest them on the disciple’s shoulders.

The Monkey King didn’t mind the gesture. Quite the opposite, a faint smile played on his lips.

“Fennel and ginger?“ he raised a quiet question as he continued in his slight massage downward towards the she-wolf’s foot and then focused his attention on her left leg.

“How did you know?“

“Blondie, I’m not at all oblivious to the basics of medicine,“ the Sage playfully winked at her. “Though, would you like to try a different sort of tea? If the fennel didn’t help much you could try the ginseng.“

The blonde crossed her arms. “Wukong, you’re on thin ice right now. I might be seven centuries old. But I’m not that old.“

“Blondie,“ he chuckled,“it’s not used just for the menopause. I’ve been told it has a similar effect as fennel. You could give it a chance. If you want I can order some for Her Highness, too.“

“That…would be delightful of you. Thanks.“

Once again, they fell into silence. The Wolf Witch felt like falling asleep under the numerous gentle rubs. At least for a short while, she was able not to feel any pain in her abdomen, a wonderful feeling she wanted to last much longer.

“I guess you can’t join me in training for the tournament today.“

“I fear so too, dear friend. But tomorrow-“

“You shouldn’t force yourself. You better rest now,“ Wukong stood up, washed the cloth for the last time and helped his comrade to the bed. “I’ll bring the tea and you can tell me what your little research from last night brought. I can familiarise you with my own investigation. Deal?“

“Deal,“ Márgerdra slithered her fingers into his palm. “But bring venerable Master and boys, too. And Mei but that goes without further saying, I suppose,“ she added with a weak smile growing on her face, her cheeks appearing much healthier than before.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that,“ the Great Sage joined her in the light giggle. “I wouldn’t dare to leave them out.“

The moment he seemed to stand up, the Wolf Witch squeezed the hairy hand. Wukong looked back at her, a clear worry behind the stern expression.

“Jun called you a…name yesterday.“

He offered a flippant grin. “Many call my old hide various names.“

“This one was different, though. He called you…what was the title…a ‘Kinbutcher’.“

The imp as well as his daring smile froze. The sudden silence flooded the vast space, not evening the birds outside dared to chirp or tweet. The time seemed to have stopped. The stare he offered, a deep void consuming everything in sight, was long as if it had no end.

The witch held her breath. She opened her mouth to break off the uncomfortable moment. Soon, she closed it back as barely any sound escaped from the dry throat.

Finally, the monkey demon moved. He licked his thin lips and rubbed his face meanwhile he walked up to the bowl with dirty water.

“Wukong…“ The hurt in the demoness’ voice was unmistakable.

“It’s not your fault.“ Sun Wukong marched out of the room. His demeanour became a perfect contrast, both freezing and boiling hot. Before shutting the sliding door behind himself, he uttered one last phrase not realising the woman had equally excellent hearing. “Just mine.“

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Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added): @vanessaroades-author @rubywrite @aohendo @rbbess110 @jgmartin @outpost51

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List of chapters:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight