#The way she tilts her head up…you KNOW shes got that loyalty to her beliefs that goes so far it starts betraying what she believes in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

calliopesstories · 3 years

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The Heart Of A King - Chapter 1

Relationship: Caspian X Susan, Caspian X Reader, Platonic!Susan and Platonic!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut (I’ll try the best I can), historical inaccuracy, misogyny and belief of 16th century, mention of death and sex, arranged marriage, /!\ Not proof read and non-english speaker writter /!\

Summary: There are opportunities in life that you have to take but you were different tough. Since you were born you always had things given to you on a silver plate. Yet you decided to create your own opportunities the day you chose to follow your father in all of his travels. It was no surprise for your parent when you left them no choice but to take you with them to the court of Cair Paravel, heart of your homeland. Even in your wildest dream you would have never thought of what destiny had in store for you when you took that opportunity and stepped in the castle of King Caspian and Queen Susan.

Words: 3,027

Author’s Note: Narnia (and the islands as well as the surrounding countries) is located in the Atlantic sea next to the strait of Gibraltar. It’s a mix between Southern Spain in terms of architecture and temperature, UK/France in terms of landscape and of course what you can see in the movies and be described in the books.

Two days of sea then just as much by carriage to reach the most magnificent palace of Narnia. No need to say it was all worth it. Nothing could compare to the beauty of Cair Paravel, its garden viewing the ocean, its impeccable white walls made of marble and the stained glasses that was colouring the inside of the castle in various colours. Last time you had been within the walls of this palace you were a child no older than five and yet it felt like yesterday. Nothing was as breath-taking as the home of the kings of Narnia, not even your father’s castle at Narrowhaven which was praised for its uniqueness and atypic beauty. Anyone who would be away from their home would feel homesick quickly but not you, you had left Narrowhaven when you were nine and only came back last year.

Your father was the Grand Ambassador of King Caspian; he had started his duty under the rule of the king’s father and had sworn loyalty to his son. Thanks to his duty to the crown he had met your mother, he had married her and sired you, their one and only child. They had never needed more; you were everything they wanted and one day you would inherit the land and titles hold by your father. You were already marchioness of Narrowhaven however one day you would become the Duchess of the Lone Islands, courtesy of King Caspian IX. Not a lot of noble houses could brag about the fact that the king himself had gave them the right of female peerage. Just a few of you – daughters of high-ranking nobles – could take on the titles even with a male heir in the line of succession at the condition of the girl being born first. Not even the royal family had that right. Not that it made you feel particularly lucky, it was nice to think the castle you had grew up in would stay in your family forever even after marriage.

The carriage stops right in front of the palace entrance. A flight of stairs leads to wooden graved doors decorated with gold and silver. You remembered well the tree with two trunks engraved on the doors after an old legend of Narnia but your child mind must have deceived you as you thought the doors were so big that giants must have lived here before. Turns out the door were huge, but not that much. They were twice the size of a grow man. Behind you servants were taking your personal items in order to put them where you’ll be leaving from now on.

“You have the right to breath you know,” your father took your arm and patted gently your hand. “It’s not the first king you meet.”

“There is a huge difference between a foreign king and the one for whom your father is working.”

“Don’t worry Y/N, King Caspian is gentle and patient man. He knows you had never done this before that’s why Lady Prunaprismia will stay with you for a month then you will need no one’s help,” encouraged your mother.

She knew you by heart. Every look, every breath and every head tilting had a significance your mother had no difficulties to understand. So when she saw you biting your lower lip, she understood how unsure of her statement you were. She had no doubt you would do well on your job. There were a few prized places at court that a woman of your status could hope to have: lady-in-waiting to the women of the royal family or governess to the king’s children. Those were official jobs but there was one every noble woman craved to have: mistress to the king. You had seen how this works and from one country to another, things weren’t that different. all hoped to dethrone the queen, thinking the king who loved them enough to put an alliance forged for years into the dirt for the beauty of their smile or whatever prowess they were doing in the royal bed. Foolish girls with foolish dreams.

You were content with the place your mother had found you. What better way to learn the way of life than to help one grow? Prince Rilian wasn’t the son of Queen Susan yet she was the one who appointed you governess of the sole heir of the kingdom. This was thanks to your mother, the former governess of the queen. She had raised the Queen before she became your mother and by the way she was speaking of the queen you knew she was like a daughter to her although no one could take your place in her heart.

You finally arrived in the throne room. The glass roof and the stained glasses gave the place an ethereal look worth of kings and queens. At the end of the room was standing four thrones of marble in front of a golden stained glass. You knew only three of them were occupied because the two were for the king and his queen, one was for the crown prince and the last throne was for the royal advisor – who had been executed last year for treason. The royal couple was waiting, stoically in their throne. You had no chance to look at them as you kneeled in front of your king and your queen before your father did, he had the privilege to stand in front of the king he had seen grow up.

“His Grace Y/F/N, Duke of the Lone Islands, his wife Y/M/N, Duchess of the Lone Islands and their daughter the Lady Y/N,” announced a man on your right. “Welcome to the court of His Majesty King Caspian X and Her Majesty Queen Susan.”

“Thank you Trumpkin but I know Lord Y/F/N for long enough to need no introduction. Please stand up my ladies there is no need for that between us.”

You stood up and saw for the first time the king with your own eyes. You had heard stories about how handsome of a man he was and he truly was but more than that he had this glimmer in his eyes, something close to melancholia although well hidden behind a dazzling smile. You could lose yourself in his eyes. It was the voice of your mother that made you realised you were staring at the king for far too long. The queen had walk to your mother and the both of them exchanged some words before they turned to you. You bowed before the queen who wasn’t older than you.

“I heard so much about you,” said Susan taking your hands in hers. Her smile was infectious and bright, contrary to her husband she was glowing with joy. “I’m sure will become good friends you and I.”

“I hope so Your Majesty,” you really hoped to be in the queen’s good grace.

“Last time I saw you, you were unable to keep yourself still.”

“You remember Your Majesty?” asked your father. You had been told that the King and you had met when you were younger but you had no memories of such event. “Well, I must say Y/N has changed since.”

“I can only agree with you.”

You smiled at your father; you knew what he meant by this statement. You had become less impatient, more careful of your words and most importantly you were smart, street smart. You had helped him many times and he liked to think he was the reason why you were doing so good around people. But you were lacking the subtility to leave at court for a long time, which was a good thing when you were traveling around the globe with your father, staying at court for short periods but now you were to live at Cair Paravel for as long as the king would want you around, and unbeknown to you the king was thinking about the length of your stay.

A door opened at your right and a small child ran pass you to be catch by the king. The prince you were supposed to take care of and who look exactly like his father if it wasn’t for his light baby blue eyes that was surely from his mother’s side. The young prince laughed in his father’s arms; he tried to push away from his face from the beard his father bore and that was probably irritating his soft and sensitive skin. The prince was five years old – for what you’ve been told – but he was taller the average five years-old, something he must have got from his father. The woman with him was his great-aunt, the Lady Prunaprismia, wife of King Caspian’s former advisor and his aunt by marriage. Although he holds no grudge against the woman for her husband’s betrayal, she had been asked to leave court forever. The King was a kind man but he wasn’t a very forgiving one. Not when it concerned his father and by extension his mother.

“Rilian, this is Lady Y/N, she’s going to take care of you once aunt Prunaprismia will be gone,” informed Caspian. He put the child back on his feet and Rilian bowed before you. You imitated the prince, a huge smile on your face, won over by the child sweetness. The King kneeled next to his son and looked at him in the eyes. “I want you to behave with Lady Y/N like you’ll do with your aunt. Be nice, can you do that for me?”

The prince energetically nodded widening your smile even more. King Caspian planted a kiss on his forehead. You saw him saying something to his son but couldn’t quite hear what it was. The queen had reached a hand for the prince to take but he preferred to stay with his current governess. The hurt in Queen Susan’s eyes was left unnoticed by you. it was common knowledge that, after five years of marriage, the queen hadn’t been pregnant once. Some rumours said she was barren, others that she had been made queen for very political reasons – which was the case for most queens though – and others that the king was never sharing her bed, still mourning his first wife, the one that gave him his heir, the one he had been in love with. And, after all, with an heir alive did he truly needs another child if he doesn’t love his current queen?

Rilian and Prunaprismia left the group alone after the lady gave you a meeting point for the next day. Right after your mother and you were taken to your quarters while your father staid with the King to discuss important matter. It took you fifteen to arrive there. There were four separate rooms: two bedrooms, one for your parents and one for you, both at the opposite from one another and with separate entrance. A common room with a fire place, chairs, shelves filled with books and it was the room you entered first. Next to it there was a dining room big enough to fit ten people around the table and was only furnished with a sideboard to contain plates, forks, knives and the usual.

Your room had a view of the garden and the sea, although you had been assured it would be temporary – you were supposed to get the one next to the prince’s – it was provided with all the luxuries you could think of. The decoration was elegant and refined, suiting a woman of your age and status. You had everything you could need, even your ladies-in-waiting you were sure had stayed at Narrowhaven. Those ladies were from smaller houses, ranks below your high-birth but they were your closest friends. Your only friends for that matter. Marwen, Cora and Lyria had been in your life since you were four, they had been your friends before being at your family’s service. They had travelled the world with you and your father, not once had they complained. They were the most loyal people you knew. After your father that is. Just seeing them made you happy and ready to face whatever the future had in store for you.

Later that day Lady Prunaprismia’s servant had come to your door to take you to her quarters – which was supposed to become yours in a month. Lady Prunaprismia was in the middle of the room, waiting for you, the king by her side. On the table behind them was a book, both of them assumed you knew how to read and write, you were part of one of the great houses of Narnia, it would have been improper for you and your family to be illiterate. The king was the first to sit down, quickly followed by his aunt; again there were side by side while you were asked to sit across the table. You never liked being outnumbered and it was even more intimidating with the King right in front of you.

“You have the right to breath you know,” King Caspian had leaned on the table to comfort you. you let out a stressed laughed but it made you realised you had been holding your breath. You took a deep breath and felt better. “That’s more like it.”

“Lady Y/N, this book is the most important book in this castle. It holds all of the prince’s needs, medical events and so on. Until the day you’ll be left alone with him I am going to ask you to study this book to the point where you’ll know it by heart, words for words.”

You opened the book carefully and the first sentence you read spoke about the prince’s books preferences, one of them you knew well as your father used to read it to you when you were younger. That memory brought a smile on your face. The book was quite big, there was a lot of information about Rilian and one month seemed like a too short amount of time to memories it all.

“My aunt is a bit extreme; some information is dated and don’t suit Rilian anymore,” you continued to flip through the book as the king continued to speak. “Besides you are to be is governess, not his nurse, you are tasked to educate my son, to teach him basic knowledge until he’ll be old enough for a tutor.”

“I’m allowed to enter the prince’s chamber at any given time?” you were sure you just had thought that but your mouth had decided to actually put sound on it. “Without permission or schedule!” Wow, that’s what you call trust!

“You won’t be the only one taking care of Rilian. As I told you he has nurses who are supposed to bath, to feed and to generally take care of his physical health. Make sure he’s in good shape, if you prefer. You are in charge of making sure they do their job.”

The close the book. You had never realised it was that much trouble taking care of a child. well, you guessed it wasn’t all day long a joyful stroll through the garden but God! Did the child really needed someone dedicated to wipe his butt? You remembered your childhood quite well and, in your memory, your parent partook a huge part of raising you into the woman you were today. But you kept that for yourself, not all parents have the same parenting technics, maybe it was how the king had been raised and he was a fine man. Besides, who were you to tell him how to raise a child? You had no child!

“I know it’s a lot to take in one day. Don’t worry, you have time,” Prunaprismia took your hands, a kind smile provoking another on your face. “And from what I heard from your mother; you are more than capable.”

“But if it’s really too much for you, I…we will understand, the Queen and I know taking care of a child, especially one who isn’t yours, can be demanding and challenging. If you think you won’t be up to the task, say it now or never, I’d rather know now and don’t worry it doesn’t mean you are not allowed in court anymore. That would be too cruel.”

“You can count on me, Your Majesty. I won’t let you down.”

You rose from your chair, taking the book in your arms and confidently walk away. That was the plan and, in your head, it was the perfect plan to show both of them how serious you were. Of course the cat didn’t agree with your plan and you tripped over him, falling on the ground. You heard Prunaprismia and King Caspian gasped before joining you, asking how you were doing. You felt humiliated. You just had fall on your ass in front of the king! God must have serious grudges over you! As you got back on your feet you swear you could see your pride and dignity staying on the floor by the devilish Shame. Hello you, you’re back again? You thought, sure to have left shame on the continent, somewhere in England or France.

You assured the King and Lady Prunaprismia that you were fine and – carefully – get out of the chamber. You had a month to learn everything about the prince and to create a bound with him strong enough to hold against the child losing one of the few people he had entire trust and love to. One single month for something that took five years for the Lady Prunaprismia to achieve. That was so you, accepting a challenge when you perfectly knew it would difficult and completely impossible. But ever since you had dared yourself to do things no one would have thought a girl of your birth would do, it had always opened a door to something interesting and bigger than you thought. If you think about it, what would have happened if you had stayed with your mother at Narrowhaven all your damn life? For sure you would have never met the Royal Couple and have a full conversation with the king.

Taglist:

@aleksanderwh0r3 @learisa @hxrgreeves @blackst0nes7077

#narnia imagine #the chronicles of narnia imagine #chronicles of narnia imagine #caspian x reader #caspian x y/n #king caspian x reader #king caspian x you #susan x caspian #suspian #pevensie siblings

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mint-yooxgi · 4 years

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{5} - Obsession

Yandere AU - Part of the EXO Obsession Series

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: EXO OT9 X Reader (with a particular focus on X-EXO)

Words: 3,250

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: The next part is here! Yay! Thank you all for being so patient with me while I got this part out, so I really hope it lives up to your expectations! Shits gonna be going down soon~ heheh, anyways! As always, I hope you enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated!

Previous ~ Next

Storming down the hall and past the small crowd that has gathered outside your office, you barely register the sound of your own footsteps, or the ones following you over the blood pounding in your ears. You make a sharp right hand turn down a specific hallway, the rest of your team close behind you as you reach the main doors to the interrogation area. Scanning the rooms, you spot the one with the lights on, two guards standing on watch just outside of the door.

“(Y/n), I’m afraid you can’t enter at this time,” one of them raises a hand out to stop you.

“Roger, if you don’t step aside this very moment, I am not afraid to kick your ass,” you snap, a fire having been ignited behind your eyes that’s burning for answers. “It’s important.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he nods once in understanding. You let out a small breath in relief as the other guard looks warily at Roger.

“It’s fine, it’s her teammates anyways,” Roger nods, and the both of them take a step to the side to let you enter the room.

“Thanks,” you say lowly, with a nod.

Stepping forwards, you grasp the handle in your hand, flinging the door to the room open in the next moment. A loud bang resounds as you step through the threshold, immediately locking eyes with Jongdae who sits beside Jongin at the steel table. Dahyun, the head of security stands up once she sees you enter the room.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong?” Her brow furrows, seeing the glare you send Jongdae.

Without saying a word, you step towards him, grabbing him out of his chair by his shirt and pushing him against the wall, pinning him there with your forearm. Jongin jumps up, moving to hold you back and pull you off of Jongdae. You stare into Jongdae’s wide eyes, him staring at you in shock as his whole body tenses beneath you.

“Tell me,” you seethe, “what in the hell would your clone want with my ring?”

“Wait, what?” Jongin’s brow furrows as he stops his attempts to pull you off of Jongdae.

“Equipment wasn’t the only thing stolen last night,” you respond, pushing harder against Jongdae as he continues to stare at you, dumbfounded. “Now, why the fuck would they break into my office and steal my ring?”

“What ring?” Dahyun asks, not aware anything was taken from your office despite the fact that it was broken into.

“My grandmother’s ring,” you tell her over your shoulder. “It was given to me as a family heirloom when I was young, and it’s the last thing I have of her. It means a great deal to me; it’s priceless.” You turn back to lock eyes with Jongdae, “and he’s the only other person besides Kyungsoo who knows about it.”

“(Y/n),” Kyungsoo’s stern voice is heard. It seems as if he’s the only other one who’s entered the interrogation room with you, the others waiting outside impatiently.

“I’m not going to ask again,” you press, tilting your head slightly as you continue to stare at him, “what would your clone want with my ring?”

“Dahyun, do you think you could give us a minute?” Kyungsoo turns to her, seeing as you’re not going to relent any time soon.

“I don’t think-“

“We’ll wait outside,” she nods, cutting Jongin’s protests off before he can even start.

Escorting Jongin out of the room, Dahyun shuts the door behind the two of them, and you fail to see the curious and concerned faces of the rest of your squad on the other side. You hear Kyungsoo sigh.

The ring in question was indeed your grandmother’s ring, which was given to her when she was a young girl. That ring is to be given to the person you wish to spend the rest of your life with, as was your grandmother’s case, and her grandmother’s before her. It’s a tradition within your family for the women to pass down this ring every second generation to show a sign of friendship, trust, but most importantly, love and loyalty.

A fact of which you drunkenly confessed to Jongdae one night after celebrating a successful mission. However, he’s not about to confess to you that he’s hoping that he’ll be the one you gift that ring to, meaning you want to spend the rest of your life with him. He has a feeling that’s exactly why his clone took it, because he knows how much it means to you, and also what it’s significance means to you.

He remembers that night all too well, and how cute you looked resting your head on his shoulder after one too many drinks. You kept giggling, too, and it was like music to his ears. Needless to say he was disappointed when it was over, but he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. To know that you, in your drunken state, trusted him enough to tell him about that ring made his heart race, and then remembering enough the next day to show him where it was when he asked, made him happy beyond belief.

Now, he stares back into your eyes, worry crossing his features, which does not go unnoticed by you. He opens his mouth to answer, but his voice fails him, for he doesn’t know what to tell you. Luckily, Kyungsoo swoops in to save his ass for him.

“Look, given that the three of us are the only ones who know about that ring, and given how you’re reacting now, that’s probably why his clone took it in the first place. For leverage,” he sighs once more. “Look how tense and upset you are. If I were in that clone’s position and wanted to ensure your motivation, I would have done the exact same thing.”

You shoot a glance at Kyungsoo over your shoulder who has taken to leaning against the ledge of the two-way mirror. His arms are crossed in front of his chest as he looks at you expectantly with a brow quirked.

You let out a long breath, closing your eyes momentarily as you will yourself to calm down. Releasing your hold on Jongdae, you step back, “you’re right.”

Jongdae manages to breathe a slight sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing a bit as you back off of him. At least he can keep those particular feelings from you a secret for a little while longer, though from the way Kyungsoo is eyeing him suspiciously, he has a feeling that the tech is on to him.

“Your clone won’t do anything to that ring, will he?” You narrow your eyes at Jongdae who tenses once more under your gaze.

“He shouldn’t,” comes his response. “Given how much it means to you, and that he wants you in particular, it wouldn’t be very beneficial for him if he did. Like Kyungsoo said, it’s leverage.”

“Okay,” you nod, “okay, good. Doesn’t make me feel any better, but I trust you when you say he won’t do anything to it.”

“Well, at least we know one thing’s for sure,” Kyungsoo says, pushing himself off of the ledge and heading towards the door of the room, “they’re gonna start tracking you now.”

“I’d like to see them try,” you smirk, crossing your arms in front of your chest as Kyungsoo opens the door.

As soon as the door is opened, both Chanyeol and Junmyeon come bursting into the room.

“What happened?” Junmyeon’s brow is furrowed in slight worry, but the confusion in his voice is more prominent.

“What’s going on?” Chanyeol echoes, looking from you, to Jongdae, to Kyungsoo, then back to you, hoping for an explanation.

Before you can answer, Dahyun is stepping back into the room.

“I hope you all don’t mind, but I have an investigation to continue,” she smiles while tilting her head and you nod in understanding. You can tell she can only put on a sweet facade for so long when she doesn’t have all the answers, it’s probably what makes her so good at her job. Without further hesitation, you usher the three boys out of the room, watching as Jongin reenters and takes his seat once more beside Jongdae who has already resumed his seated position.

“I’ll explain in the briefing room,” you say, not bothering to spare your team a second glance as you walk past, Kyungsoo falling into step right beside you.

Once they’re all seated around the room a few minutes later, you let out a sigh.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering what was in that box,” you begin.

“Clearly it was important to you, otherwise you wouldn’t have stormed out of your office like that on a hunt for Jongdae,” Sehun observes with a questioning glance towards you, leaning back in his seat.

“Though we’re curious to know why he’s the only one who knew about it,” Junmyeon says, doing his best to hide the bitter jealousy he feels from seeping into his voice. Do you not trust him enough?

“He’s not the only one who knows about it,” you reply, seeing both Baekhyun and Junmyeon quirk a brow at you in question, “Kyungsoo does, too.”

“And what was so important that you couldn’t tell the rest of your team about?” Baekhyun inquires, looking at you expectantly.

“It just never came up,” you lock gazes with him, your eyes slightly narrowed at his expectant tone. “I don’t talk about it often because I’ve always wanted to separate my personal life from work.”

“You always talk about your family, though,” Chanyeol’s brow furrows in confusion.

“I don’t think that’s what she means,” Minseok chimes in.

You let out a sigh, running a hand through your hair as you lock eyes briefly with Kyungsoo, “when have you guys ever heard me talk about my love life? Or any dates I’ve been on for that matter?”

At your words, Chanyeol, Sehun, and Baekhyun all stiffen, while Junmyeon seemingly stops breathing.

“You don’t,” Yixing replies. “At least, not often.”

“Exactly,” you confirm. “Why do you think that is?”

“Wait, (Y/n), are you-“ Chanyeol pauses, “are you married?”

“What?” You furrow your brow. “No, I’m not married.” The four of them seemingly breathe a sigh of relief. “I don’t talk about my love life because, as I said, I don’t like mixing my personal life with work. There are many enemies who would have a field day if they found out that I had a significant other, not to mention it’s hard to have one when they know I work around nine attractive males all day who could easily kick their ass if they so wanted. I haven’t really been in the market, either.”

Baekhyun quirks a brow while the others simply stare at you in slight shock. You think they’re attractive? Junmyeon smiles to himself, while Sehun’s heart races in his chest. Baekhyun can’t help but feel smug, while Chanyeol smirks slightly. Minseok, Yixing and Kyungsoo all simply nod for you to continue.

“Anyways, what was in the box-” you sigh, “and I don’t really like telling a lot of people this because of how much it means to me, but what was in the box was a ring.”

“A ring?” Junmyeon repeats, and his mind races. Was it an engagement ring? An ex’s ring? Does he have more competition?

“My grandmother’s ring to be exact,” you explain, and you fail to see Junmyeon’s shoulders slump slightly in relief. “Given to me when I was young. It’s a priceless family heirloom which I am supposed to give to the person whom I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Again, the four of them all stiffen. Oh. “It’s what my grandmother did, and her grandmother before her. I don’t tell people about it for this exact reason, but now you know.”

“Yet Kyungsoo and Jongdae knew,” Sehun somewhat grumbles.

“Yes, they both knew,”

“Why?” Junmyeon cuts in, staring at the wall across from him until he realizes what has just left his mouth, and correcting himself. “I mean, I assume you trust us enough, all things considered, so why not tell us before now? Why were Kyungsoo and Jongdae the only ones to know?”

“To be honest, I’m a little curious, too,” Yixing smiles, somewhat sheepishly, at you.

“Well, out of all of you, Kyungsoo is my closest friend,” you tell them honestly. “Hence why I’m also staying at his place through all of this.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Minseok nods.

“But then, why Jongdae?” Baekhyun asks, looking up at you from his seated position.

“That happened by accident one night when I was drunk after a mission, but I don’t regret it,” you admit. “Looking back on it now, knowing that he is usually the one who handles strategies with me, if ever there would be an event like this to happen, he would be the first one I would go to. Given the circumstances though, I may have misjudged that.”

“Well, I most certainly did not see this coming,” Chanyeol sighs, leaning back in his seat as he looks up at the ceiling.

“I don’t think any of us did,” Minseok adds.

“So, they’re using this ring of yours as leverage over you now?” Yixing turns to look at you, to which you nod in confirmation.

“Then we need to get it back,” Baekhyun reasons, as if it’s the most obvious thing to do. Also, because he’s secretly hoping you’ll give him this ring of yours once he claims it back for you.

“That’s the plan,” you nod in agreement. “The only problem is, we don’t know where they are right now, and they’ve just stolen our best tracking equipment.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Minseok grins, causing you all to look at him questioningly. “I’ve got some better equipment at home, I’ll bring it tomorrow and I should have a proper location on them by tomorrow evening at best.”

“That’s good news,” Kyungsoo says. “I’ll give you a hand, keep my eyes and ears open on every communication point in the city for any movement or word of them around the area.”

“That’d be great,” Minseok nods in thanks.

“Well, if that’s all, then,” Yixing pushes his chair back and goes to stand.

“There’s not much we can do now but play the waiting game,” you agree. “Either we find them first or they find us.”

“They’ve already found us,” Chanyeol states, receiving a small smack on the arm from Baekhyun. “Hey!”

“Meeting adjourned,” you say, looking over your team briefly as they all nod in understanding. They know better than to question certain motives of yours, especially regarding something so personal to you. Besides, none of them want to push their luck considering you still did tell them about the ring, even after everything.

Staring at the wall, you think over everything that’s happened so far today. You hardly register any of them leaving, for you’re in your own little world.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts about getting your ring back by Junmyeon, his voice low, “are you okay?”

“Huh?” You turn to look into his eyes which reflect nothing but concern. “Oh, yeah.”

“I’m sorry they would take something so precious to you,” he goes on to say, reaching his hand out in a comforting motion and placing it on your arm.

“As much as it pains me to say, I understand why they did,” you rub your eyes.

“Are you going to be okay?”

You look into his eyes, “I’m not sure, but the sooner we can figure out how to get rid of these clones, the sooner things can go back to normal.”

“Yeah,” he grimaces slightly, “normal.”

“I think I’m going to head back to Kyungsoo’s for the evening and try and get some rest,” you tell him. “I have a feeling tomorrow’s going to be even crazier than today.”

“Alright,” he says, “but if you ever need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“I will,” you smile at him reassuringly. “Thanks, Junmyeon.”

He smiles right back at you, allowing his hand to drop back to his side as he watches you leave the briefing room, eyes staring longingly at your retreating figure until he can no longer see your form.

Reaching the main area of the compound, you spot Kyungsoo already setting up some communication surveillance for overnight. You smirk as you think of his favourite thing to say in regards to these: if they so much as sneeze, he’ll know.

“Hey, I’m going to head back now and see if I can get some rest,” you tell him, leaning slightly over the back of his chair to see what he’s already set up on the monitors.

He grunts in acknowledgment, eyes scanning the screens in front of him, “be safe.”

Giving him a pat on the back in farewell, you push yourself upright and head to the garage. You send a quick wave towards the rest of your team for the evening, noticing that both Jongdae and Jongin seem to still be in interrogation. Dahyun must really be pulling out all of the stops for this, which only makes you chuckle and shake your head. You’ll make sure the two boys are fine tomorrow.

Unlocking your car, you slide into the driver’s seat. Taking a deep breath, you start the engine, wanting to get back home and relax for the evening. You’ve had an emotional day, and all you want to do now is vent your frustrations through training in your personal gym at home.

Pulling out of the compound, you grip the steering wheel tightly in your hands. You still cannot believe that Chen would use your ring as leverage. Well, you can, but it upsets you to no end. If you weren’t pissed off before, you most certainly are now.

The drive home takes you a little less time that usual, considering you drive faster than usual. You’re just lucky you don’t get stopped, then you really might have blown up at someone today.

Stepping out of your car, you let out a breath. Heading towards your front door, you make sure you hear the click of your car locking behind you before stepping into your house.

Tossing your keys aside, you kick off your shoes, making sure to double check the locks on the front door. If they managed to break in to the compound last night, then anything is possible.

Heading to your bedroom, you notice the door to be closed. Furrowing your brow, you cautiously approach your room now, for you specifically remember leaving the door to your room open when you left earlier that day.

Grabbing the hidden blade you keep behind the hallway mirror, you continue your cautious approach towards your bedroom. You quiet your breathing as much as you can, for you have no idea who, or what, might be waiting for you on the other side. Ever so slowly, you push the door open, nothing but the small squeak from the hinges filling the silence of your house.

“Took you long enough,” a low voice calls out from the darkness, which has you flicking on your lights to reveal Suho casually sitting in the chair beside your bed with his legs crossed and a smirk on his lips. “Hello love.”

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years

Text

Resol’nare - Part Nine

A/N: OH...HEY. Let’s all pretend that I didn’t just have like a three week creative crisis and just dive back in, shall we?? (I’M VERY SORRY.)

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: The Mandalorian arrives on Nevarro to meet with Navina again, hopefully to trade information that could be valuable to them both. But before she joins him he receives a call with some concerning information. When she does finally get there, things come to a head. Quickly.

Warnings: Language, violence

Word Count: 5k

Nevarro.

A dry wind blew across the arid lava fields, his cape whipping behind him as he focused the lens of his visor on the horizon. He had already scanned the other three directions before setting his gaze East. So far though, there was no sign of a ship or speeder anywhere. Another harsh gust of wind tore through the open landscape, accentuating its emptiness. Nothing. He sighed, changing the lens back to its default setting. Crusty flakes of ash covered clay tumbled over the cracked ground and clung to his boots. The Mandalorian hadn’t been waiting long, and Navina wasn’t late yet, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. Where is she?

He shifted his weight, leaning against the lowered ramp of The Promise. Pulling his comm device from his pocket, he pressed the speaker button to check that it was still operational and was met with a crackling static sound that proved it was. She just hasn’t tried to contact me. Tucking it away again, he told himself that it was only because she hadn’t landed yet, not because she was involved in any sort of trouble.

His concern hadn’t come from nowhere though, and it wasn’t entirely in regards to the woman’s safety. She can take care of herself. The prickling feeling in the back of his mind had more to do with what he didn’t know about her than what he did. And there’s a lot. Shortly after arriving on the volcanic planet, before he’d even had the chance to check in with Cara Dune, he’d received word from Boba and Fennec back on Tatooine. Curious as to what would warrant the call when he’d last seen Fett only a few days prior- Fennec had been out on one of her missions- he answered quickly, pressing the button to activate the holo screen on the ship’s main control switch.

The blue light flickered and took shape, projecting the man’s image there in the cockpit. “Fett,” the Mandalorian greeted him with a nod. “What is-”

The man’s gruff voice cut him off then, waiving the need for any pretense, which the Mandalorian appreciated. “I’ve got something you need to hear, Mand’alor.” Fett tilted his chin down, his stone solid gaze trained directly at the holo as he spoke. He continued without waiting to be asked, Fennec stepping into view beside him. “Got a hit on that name you asked about. Harsa.”

He blinked, Navina’s face flashing in his memory as she told him her father’s name. That was fast. “I thought you said you hadn’t heard the name?” He tilted his head as he asked.

“I hadn’t,” Boba confirmed. “Still haven’t.” What? “It wasn’t me who came across it, and it isn’t the father, Gavil.”

Head moving back and forth he felt nothing but confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“I came across the name Harsa on a syndicate raid, Mando.” Fennec’s clear tone filled the space as she clarified. “Ixon? The scum I was… interviewing when you were here last?” He nodded and she raised one eyebrow, a look of self-satisfaction still lingering on her face at the way she handled that quarry. “He gave up the location of a Black Sun hideout on Corellia after some light persuasion.”

“And?” He still wasn’t sure where this was headed.

“And when I got there, the place was mostly abandoned. Found a few ledgers, stolen credits.” She scoffed. “Cowards run like rats in Coronet City.”

They do. It had been a long while since the Mandalorian set foot on Corellia or Coruscant. His bounties kept him mostly within the Outer Rim, and he didn’t miss the crowded streets or the types of people they were filled with.

“I was lucky enough to catch one of them though, one of their poor excuses for bounty hunters.” She clicked her tongue. “No accuracy, no skill, and as it turns out,” she grinned. “No loyalty.” That’s why they don’t work for the Guild. “One I caught? Duros. Sang like a little bird. Told me everything I wanted to know. Including who he was working with and what he’d been hired to do.”

Though he was glad to hear that she and Fett were making more progress in cleaning up the galaxy’s garbage, he was still confused about exactly how this raid related to Navina’s name. “Fennec, I’m not sure if I-“

“Just wait,” Boba’s serious, gravelly tone was back. “We wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t worth the trouble.”

He knew that to be true. While Karga enjoyed talking just for the sake of conversation, and Bo-Katan’s routine check-ins could be used to set any clock, Boba and Fennec only made contact when absolutely necessary. Which is almost never. He leaned back in his seat, clenching and unclenching his right fist atop his thigh. “Go on.”

“Turns out this fine gentleman I spoke with had orders to plant a tracking device on a target so that his partner could hunt them down and take them out in a different location. Team job,” she explained, her eyes suddenly looking down as she fumbled with something off screen. Looking back up, she raised her hand, a bounty puck lying flat in it. “This was the target, Mando.”

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he watched her activate the holo puck, Navina’s image flickering to life, her name listed in several languages below her rotating likeness.

“Not the Harsa you were looking for, Mand’alor.” Fett inclined his head towards the puck in Fennec’s palm. “Someone’s looking for her though.”

“Any idea who?” There were endless reasons as to why someone would hire an assassin or a bounty hunter, he knew that first hand. But if he knew who it was that wanted the woman dead, he might be able to reason out the why.

Fennec let the puck go dark and lowered her hand. “Well, you see that’s where things get very interesting.” They were interesting enough already. “Ixon isn’t- wasn’t- a very high ranking member of the syndicate, so he didn’t have any names for me.” Not surprising. “But what he did say?” She folded her arms over her chest. “It was a Mandalorian that hired Black Sun.”

“A Mandalorian?” Not even the helmet could hide the shock in his tone. Aside from the fact that paying someone else to do their killing for them was not at all the Way of the Mandalore, it was as unnecessary as one of his kind hiring a personal bodyguard. “Why would a Mandalorian need to hire an assassin?” They wouldn’t. Navina may be a skilled fighter, but the simple fact that she was not entirely covered in beskar put her at an extreme disadvantage when it came to fighting someone that was. Especially if she didn’t even know it was coming.

“An excellent question,” Boba nodded. “And one I think you know the answer to.”

“Discretion.” Whoever it is doesn’t want anyone knowing it was them. Most people contracted their dirty work out because they were incapable of doing it themselves, but he knew that there were others who were just seeking to keep their own hands clean. A sudden thought materialized and immediately took the form of a question. “Are all of our people accounted for there?”

He needed to know if this was an isolated incident; if Navina had garnered this target on her head because of choices she had made, or because of who and what she was...and who she knew. He needed to know if the rest of the covert, the rest of his kind, were safe or if whoever was hunting her down was also tracking other Mandalorians. Perhaps most importantly though, he needed to know if he had to be suspicious of anyone within the covert’s walls. Mandalorian history was full of infighting, different sects and cells with varying beliefs and loyalties often waging war on one another to claim more power and reputation. I won’t let that happen under my watch.

“Just talked to the princess herself, Mand’alor.” Fett grumbled, his upper lips pulling into the snarl it seemed he reserved specifically for Bo-Katan. “According to her, everyone is safe and she’s called for a full sweep of the facility to be sure there are no threats to your growing hive.”

Relief washed through him, and he was glad not only that Bo-Katan and her people were there to keep the others safe, but that at least for the moment it seemed that this was more a matter of personal vendetta against Navina Harsa and not against Mandalorians or their allies in general. It was short lived however, Fennec chiming in once more to remind him that the tracking device was likely still active if Navina hadn’t already been found and killed. “If they haven’t found her yet, Mando… she might be leading whoever is looking for her straight to you.”

He had ended the transmission thanking Fett and Shand for calling with the warning, hoping that Navina would arrive soon and that he’d be able to find and disable the tracker before it caused trouble for him. Or costs her her life. Though his first thought had been that she could be a danger to what he was trying to do for the Mandalorian people, his next line of thinking went in another direction. What if she was targeted because she’s meeting me? What if just knowing me, talking to me was what… Another fact about Mandalorian history that he had learned since becoming the owner of the Darksaber and the title that came with it, was that while the majority of Mandalorians accepted the wielder of that sword to be their rightful ruler, there would almost always be outliers in opposition who would see a different Mand’alor on the throne. He sighed, wondering if it would get worse once they had actually begun to retake the planet, when the throne was even more tangible and real and tempting. One thing at a time.

Scanning the landscape one more time, he tapped the button on the side of his helmet to cut through the hazy fog that hung low over the volcanic ground. At first he saw nothing, but then a wave of air was displaced overhead, and looking up he saw a small ship, maybe half the size of The Promise, beginning its landing maneuvers. That must be her. Tipping his head back, he watched as the craft wobbled upon entry into Nevarro’s atmosphere before the reverse thrusters were engaged, the hull of the ship leveling out, its descent slowing as it got closer to the ground to give him a clear look at the vessel. Dank farrik.

He was immediately reminded of the Razor Crest after he’d trusted the Mon Calamari dockhand on Trask to repair it following the crash landing on Maldo Kreis. Not that I had much of a choice then. Couldn’t get off the platform the way it was. He wondered if there hadn’t been similar circumstances for the woman and her ramshackle ship. There were outer panels that flapped where they lifted away from the rivets that were supposed to hold them in place, shoddily executed patchwork and second hand replacement parts making it almost impossible to imagine what the ship may have looked like when it was new. If it ever was. Cocking his head to the side as the engines powered down, he wondered if it wasn’t something that Navina or her friend had cobbled together themselves from spare scraps of retired ships.

There was another disturbance overhead, the hot air moving as though another ship were trying to cut through to land, and he shook all thoughts of her ship’s provenance and original model number away. He needed to stay vigilant, be on the lookout for whoever it was that was following Navina. The airlock hissed as she lowered the ramp on her ship, the steel plank stuttering jerkily as it dropped then freezing its motion with a grinding sound just shy of reaching the ground.

“Kriffing piece of-” He heard a metallic thunk that he would have wagered anything on had been made by her boot striking the mechanism that operated the entrance ramp, the door groaning on its fastenings as it plunged down to close the distance. “There.” Swinging her braid with a huff, the woman appeared in the opening. She wasn’t wearing any of her armor, her bulging bag slung across her body. He did notice the sunlight glinting off of the kal at her waist and recognized the shape of the blaster strapped to her thigh beneath the gray shawl she wore though, the woman seeming to put more stock in being well armed than well armored. In her case, it made sense, and he realized that if she did know someone was after her, she would only stick out more if she was wearing the beskar helmet and the thin plates she’d collected over the years.

Hopping down from her ship, a cloud of ash rising as her boot soles hit land, she waved one arm and called out. “Hey there, Mando.” Turning, she hoisted the ramp up manually and gave it a forceful shove to slam it shut.

In the same instant that the hefty door clicked to lock, the enhanced audio receiver in his helmet picked up another distinct noise; the nearly silent sound of a ship entering the atmosphere. The tracker. Snapping his attention skyward, he adjusted his visor lens and located the incoming gunship. It’s weapons already charged from what he could see, it would be within shooting range in a matter of seconds. Eyes flicking down to the woman still struggling to close the ramp, he realized that she hadn’t noticed the very imminent danger that she was in. And he didn’t have time to warn her.

Acting on instinct alone, he lunged forward extending his left arm and deploying the whipcord from his vambrace. She turned to face him as the cable wrapped around her body, eyes widening in shock as the restraint tightened to trap her arms against her sides. Sorry.

“What the-“

Her assumed string of swears and expletives was cut short by the zip of the line as he swiveled his wrist, the mechanized cord reeling itself back in. Overhead, a dark shape hovered above the clouds. Navina finally glanced up as the hum of the attacking ship’s guns announced their intent to fire. The expression on her face as she looked back down at him was a mixture of confusion, anger, and fear, adrenaline pulsing from her that he could almost feel himself. Hang on.

Again, there was no time to warn her before he acted, punching his fist hard to pull Navina as far from where she stood as possible. She nearly flew through the air to close the distance, the Mandalorian whipping his body around just in time to stop her momentum by throwing his arms wide and catching her in them. The instant he had a solid grip on her, he bent his knees and pushed off from the ground, jetpack igniting and lifting them both out of harm’s way just as red blaster fire streaked through the sky to hit the ship that she’d been aboard only minutes before.

He didn’t look back, focused instead on locating the enemy, already grabbing for one of the thermal detonators attached to his belt. But he didn’t need to look back to know the exact second that the enemy’s blast hit, her body stiffening noticeably as the explosion engulfed her ship, the sound of her incredulous gasp close to his ear. He didn’t need to see it on her face to understand what she was feeling. I hope there wasn’t anything… He recalled the moment he had found Grogu’s ball in the rubble where the Razor Crest once stood. I hope nothing she cares about was destroyed.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, he rose higher until he was close enough to one of the ship’s engines to toss the detonator into the turbine. Reaching down, he unbuckled another two of the spherical explosives, shoving them in after the first before diving back towards the ground. He hadn’t been able to retaliate right away when Grogu was abducted and his ship, their home, decimated. But I can now. His weapons ignited, tearing the engine to shreds and causing the ship to drop like a lead weight, falling hard and gaining speed.

The heat at his back as they plummeted was satisfying, but his thoughts quickly returned to the woman in his arms as they both touched down on the ground. Bracing for the impact of the destroyed ship’s impending crash, he tucked her head against his shoulder. Tilting his head down, he shielded as much of her with as much of himself as possible, widening his stance to lower his base as the ground rumbled underfoot. Charred debris rained down, a few smaller pieces bouncing off of his armor like fiery hailstones, and he kept her sheltered until he heard and felt them stop falling. As soon as it was clear, he released her, stepping back once he was sure that she was steady on her feet.

“Are you hurt?” He knew that he needed to check the ship’s wreckage to see if the assailant was still alive. But he wanted to make sure that she was physically alright before he did.

Mouth agape and expression completely stunned, she took a breath and then another, staring at the space where she’d landed her ship and seeing only a burnt out crater in its place. “I...I’m...no.” She answered, blinking rapidly before giving him a quick shake of her head. “You… how did you-”

Now’s not the time. Without another word he pushed off from the ground again, flying through the smoke plumes towards the torn and twisted remains of the enemy ship’s cockpit and main hold. Looking through the windshield, he saw the slumped form of a man in dark goggles, the tell tale tattoo marking him as a Black Sun member visible on his neck above the collar of his shirt. From what the Mandalorian could tell, the man was still breathing, simply unconscious, and the lack of movement among the rest of the wreckage paired with the absence of a second body in the co-pilot’s chair led him to believe that this was a solo operation. It usually is. He could count on one hand how many times he’d hunted with a partner, and he knew that most bounty hunters and assassins worked that way, too.

Finding the hatch to open the cockpit, he tried to peel it open but it wouldn’t budge, the hinges bent and damaged in the crash. Swearing under his breath, he drew his blaster and shot three times at the lock until the door fell inward. Kicking his boot down through the door, he opened it fully, dropping into the ship to extract the man who had just fired on Navina. In another circumstance, he may have let the man suffer the consequences of his actions and let fate decide whether he walks away from the flames. But then he’d be loose on Nevarro. If this trouble was somehow linked to him, which it was, because Navina was only there to meet with him, then he owed it to Cara and Karga and all of the people there to clean up his mess. And I’m sure Fennec will have questions for him. Slinging the tall but thin man over his shoulder, the Mandalorian climbed back out through the opening he made for himself, jumping from the top of the wreckage. The jets strapped to his back roared to life and he ascended as a fuel tank exploded right below him. That was close.

His next priority was checking that The Promise hadn’t suffered any damage. The blast seemed to have been a direct hit, so he wasn’t overly concerned. But it’s my only way out of here and it’s… He frowned as he landed. It’s not home but it’s… He sighed. It doesn’t matter. The ship was fine, far enough away that it hadn’t even been hit with any rubble or debris. Good. He dropped the man he was carrying in an unceremonious heap, an audible crack coming from his arm as it made contact with the hard ground, ignoring it as he turned back in the direction he’d left Navina in.

She was walking cautiously through the field of burning metal, her face streaked with soot and her blaster drawn. As soon as she saw the man crumpled at the Mandalorian’s feet, her face pulled into an angry scowl. “Kriffing scum!”

She coughed as she inhaled the thick smoke, and he realized that if not for the filter in his helmet he would be having the same difficulty breathing. We should get inside. She stumbled closer, and he could see the shake in her hand as she pointed her weapon at the figure on the ground. Don’t- He was about to reach for her to stop her from shooting the man, despite how badly he knew that she must have wanted to. She didn’t make him do that though, opting instead for a swift, hard kick as she stowed her blaster. Lifting her eyes up to the eyeline of his visor, she shook her head. “How did you kn-”

Another cough cut her short, and he flipped open the cover on his vambrace, tapping in the code to unlock and lower the ramp. “Go inside,” he shook his head and gestured at the black smoke. “You shouldn’t breathe this in. Go.”

He stooped down to lift the unconscious assassin from the ground, hoisting him over his shoulder again and followed Navina up the ramp into the main hull. As soon as he was in, he punched the switch on the wall to seal the door behind them. The air circulation system kicked in with a whoosh as the airlock clicked shut, and before he said anything else, the Mandalorian opened the locker where he kept three slabs ready at all times. Shoving the limp man into the frame of the slab, he held down the button that released a gust of super chilled carbonite to freeze his captive, then shut him away in the locker for transport to Tatooine. He’ll answer for what he did. He was certain that Fennec would squeeze every drop of information out of him and then make him sorry that he ever agreed to work for the Black Sun.

“Hey.” The curtness in her tone made him wince as he turned to face her, but it was understandable. “Are you going to tell me how you knew that was going to happen?” She crossed her arms defensively and he could tell that she was trying to keep her composure.

“I was tipped off by one of my people.” He nodded at her. “I had asked about your father, but they came across your name instead.” Pulling a device from the cabinet below the weapons locker, he went on. “Found a bounty puck on you in a syndicate hideout, and found out that someone had you followed.” Switching the small object on, he pointed it at her bag.

Pulling the satchel away from him, she stepped back. “What are you doing?”

Lifting the device, he explained. “This will find and disable any tracking devices on you so they can’t send backup.” She still seemed hesitant, and though he wanted to be sympathetic and give her time to process what was happening, he knew that they didn’t have that luxury. “Look, I just saved your life and I don’t even know who I saved it from.” Or why someone’s after you. He recalled the way that his subconscious had convinced him to trust her the last time they were together, and though he still didn’t understand why, he felt himself leaning into it again. “So you’re going to let me check you for tracking beacons, or I’m going to make you let me.”

She swallowed, not out of fear but frustration, glaring up at him, then begrudgingly held out her bag. “Fine.”

He swept the device over it, the thing beeping loudly over one of the pockets. “There.”

“What? There’s nothing in-” She dug her hand into the pocket, then froze, pulling it back out with a tiny silver circle between her fingers. “Dank farrik, what the… how-”

The Mandalorian took it from her, dropping it on the floor and crushing it with the heel of his boot. “Someone must have slipped it into your bag while you were distracted.” He raised the scanner once more, making sure that there weren’t any other trackers or bugs planted on her person. Satisfied that there weren’t, he stowed the scanner back where he took it from and straightened up to face Navina again.

The anger and defensiveness were gone, the woman instead displaying concern. “I need to contact Firo.” She shook her head. “That… The Flare, it… that was his ship and I…Osi'kyr! Firo. I need to make sure he’s… that he and his family are safe. What if-”

“Alright.” He held up his hands. “Alright, you can use my holo screen. It’s in the cockpit.” She pressed her lips together and nodded, clearly worried. “It… my contact? They told me that it was only your name that was on record.” If that makes you feel any better.

He didn’t wait for her to respond, simply nodding at the ladder that led to the ship’s controls. She climbed wordlessly with him right behind her, and within seconds he had the holo up and running, allowing her to make contact with her friend. If I thought the kid was in trouble I’d… need to see him, too. There were things that The Mandalorian needed to ask her, but he knew that nothing would be accomplished until her mind was put at ease over the people she cared about.

Once she was satisfied that no one else would be in the crosshairs meant for her, she apologized again to the shaggy haired, amicable man that he had seen pick her up on a stolen speeder when last he was on Nevarro. He insisted that he didn’t really care about his ship, that he was just glad that she was safe, his relief genuine. Ships are replaceable. He looked around at the switchboards and panels that surrounded him. People aren’t. His eyes fell to the vacant seat that was still waiting for Grogu to occupy it. From what she had told him last time they spoke, she knew that all too well.

As she wrapped up her call, she visibly relaxed, no longer on the verge of hyperventilation from smoke or worry, but still a little on edge. Rightfully so. Someone just tried to- a Mandalorian tried to have her killed. One of my... The idea felt wrong to even think, but he had to ask. “Navina?” Her sharp eyes locked with his, again giving him the feeling that she could see through his visor even though he knew that was impossible. “Do you have any idea who would have,” he sighed. Just tell her what you know. “It was a Mandalorian. The person who put the hit out on you? They were… Do you know why a Mandalorian would be after you?”

To his surprise, she actually let out a dry laugh. “Mando, if I kept track of everyone who… everyone that I made an enemy of I’d never get any sleep.”

He was sure that she was right, but it wasn’t what he’d asked. “That wasn’t an answer.”

She frowned, rubbing at a smudge of black ash on her forehead. “No, it wasn’t.” Looking down at her lap, she let out a breath. “I…” she clamped her eyes shut. “Yeah. There are a… a few Mandalorians who might be...who want me-”

“Tell me why.” It wasn’t a command, regardless of how it came out. “Please, tell me why. I,” he paused, wanting to be sure of his word choice so that she would understand his line of questioning. I want to make sure that no one that I am responsible for was responsible for this. As the Mand’alor, it was his responsibility to uphold peace and hand out punishment to those that would threaten it. But she doesn’t know that I’m… He wanted to trust her like his brain was telling him to. But he didn’t want to be wrong, not at the expense of the rest of the covert. She hasn’t sworn the Creed. “I want to be sure that no one in my covert, my Tribe, was behind this.”

She opened her mouth then shut it, furrowing her brow before smoothing it out again, and he knew that she was trying to be just as careful in choosing her words as he was, the two of them playing a precarious game of strategy as they got to know one another. “I’ll… I’ll tell you about the Mandalorians I’ve…” She sighed, her eyes landing on the signet on his shoulder. “I’ll tell you about the Mandalorians I’ve made enemies of, if you tell me something. Like last time.”

He thought for a beat before answering, something in the way that she was eyeing the Mudhorn crest that he wore giving him pause. But that’s how this works, right? Give information to get it? “Alright,” he agreed. “Go ahead.”

As though she’d been practicing the question since the second she pulled away on that speeder three weeks ago, it rolled right off of her tongue to fill the quiet cockpit. “Are you in possession of the Darksaber?”

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the tags! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @valkblue @malionnes @gollyderek @fific7 @becs-bunker @commanderlola @greatcircle79

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yelena-bellova · 4 years

Text

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Two: Plans and Proposals

Series Masterlist

Plot: The Resistance discusses how to move forward in rebuilding.

Warnings: blood, injuries

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Everything’s a mess but have no fear, the fic is here. Enjoy your escape into another world because Heaven knows ours is a flaming pile of garbage right now.

————

“What in the hell?” Poe mumbled as me, Shriv and him arrived at the fight. One of the pilots that Wedge Antilles had recruited slid across the floor. Teza Nasz stood next to us bleeding, but seemed unconcerned with her wounds. The ex-Imperial began to charge forward again but Jess reeled her back, begging her to cease the confrontation. Wedge went to help the young pilot up to his feet, his blood was still smeared across the stone floor.

“Poe Dameron,” Wedge called, “Y/n Solo.”

“Antilles,” Poe said, “What in the hell is going on?”  “Agoyo swung first,” a woman next to Wedge said. Judging by her age and the fact that she hadn’t left his side since we’d arrived, I took a guess she was Norra Wexley.

“I don’t care who started it,” I spoke up, “There’s no sense in fighting each other, we’re on the same side. Why did this even start?”  “You should care!” Agoyo shouted, rising back to his feet. His Phantom Squad uniform was stained now with blood.

“Identify yourself, pilot.” Poe ordered. Agoyo faced us, crossed his arms and took a defiant stance.

Poe impatiently repeated himself, “Name, pilot.”  “Pacer,” the young pilot seethed, “Pacer Agoyo.”  “Pacer,” Poe nodded, “You know who I am?”  “Poe Dameron.”  “No, I’m your commanding officer. And frankly, right now I’m not impressed with what I see. I understand you’ve come a long way to join us…”  Pacer answered that he was from Nuja and his late father was a Phantom Squad pilot. He’d come in his place.

“I appreciate your father’s service, and your willingness to join the Resistance,” Poe said, “But unfortunately, it looks like you’re not a good fit for this mission. You’re free to leave.”

Some of the gathered crowd let out gasps as Poe turned his back on Pacer. Even I was confused as to what he was trying to do. I watched Pacer shift awkwardly as my boyfriend tilted his head, he was waiting for Pacer to speak up.

“Poe...I mean, Commander Dameron. I-I want to stay, sir. Please. It’s just...”

“It’s just what, Agoyo?” Poe asked as he finally turned around.

The young pilot was no longer looking at Poe, his eyes were locked onto Teza Nasz once again. I could feel the anger radiating off of him, no one was this full of rage for no reason.

“Do you know each other?” I asked, taking a step forward to reiterate my presence.

“She murdered my brother!” Agoyo revealed, he raised his fists once again and took a step in Nasz’s direction.

“Agoyo!” Poe snapped, Pacer turned back but still wouldn’t meet Poe’s stare.  “Eyes on me,” he said, the pilot finally looked up, “You will stop menacing Teza Nasz, or I will have you thrown in the brig until you can cool down. Is that understood?”

Pacer looked embarrassed and slightly intimidated by Poe’s threat. Wedge put a hand on his arm and whispered something I couldn’t make out, whatever he’d said was enough for him to let Wedge pull him back. Poe then turned to Teza Nasz, “Well?”  “It’s possible I killed his brother, but I don’t remember. It’s possible,” the warlord said as she scanned the crowd, “That I killed all of your brothers. And cousins. And mothers and fathers and former lovers. It was my job.”

“Then why are you here?” I inquired, crossing my arms.

She looked jolted by the question I’d posed, “Because it was wrong. But I didn’t know it at the time.”  “You were young and ambitious,” Poe guessed, “So you joined the Empire.”

Teza nodded, “Mostly hungry, but yes.”

Never in my life did I think I would ever feel sympathy for an ex-Imperial warlord. Yet here I was, a little bit of my heart going out to the woman. She still intimidated me, but I understood her a little better now.

“You joined the Empire,” Poe finished, before turning his gaze to Wedge, “Just like you.”

“It’s no secret I attended Skystrike Academy,” he said to the crowd, his hands spread out with a shrug, “But I left once I realized what the Empire was doing.”

Poe nodded in reply before turning to Zay, “And your mother.”  “My mother was an Imperial officer,” Zay answered softly, “But she defected. She and my father. They died for the Resistance. Ask Leia. She knows.”

“Suralinda?” I called, hoping I wasn’t stepping on Poe’s moment by calling on one of his squad members.

“I didn’t give a care about either side much,” she said easily, “I was ready to sell Resistance secrets if it would get me what I wanted. Oh wait, I did.”

The shocked faces around her did not match with her laughter, “Relax, I came around.”

“And you?” Poe turned finally to Finn, who I hadn’t noticed was standing to the back of the group with Rey.

“Used to be a stormtrooper,” Finn answered as he came forward, “But now I’m rebel scum,” his fist hit his chest so loud, the thump echoed, “Until the end.”  We shared a small smile, he’d become one of the most devoted pieces of lovable scum I’d ever met in such a short amount of time. I was proud of him.

“My point,” Poe said as he turned back to Pacer, “Is that many of us have dubious beginnings, but it is how we end that counts.”

“My father was Darth Vader,” Mom’s voice rang out through the hanger, “Is there anyone who wants to question my loyalty to the Resistance?”

I’d never heard a more silent room, damn right…

“Now, is there anyone else with a grudge that needs airing?” Poe asked loud enough for everyone to hear, “Something that’s bothering them? Someone in this room that they can’t wait to knife once their back is turned?”

The tension eased up as a couple people laughed. Just as Poe was beginning to gesture for Mom to take the floor, a voice that hadn’t been heard yet rose.

“I got a question!”

The voice belonged to a bald, grey skinned man. Immediately you could tell that he was an older pilot, just as cocky as he’d probably been his whole life. This was going to be fun.

“Go on,” Poe acknowledged.

“What about you two?” the man wagged his finger at Poe and I.

“What about us?” I confusedly asked.

“I heard the stories,” he continued, “About what happened on the Raddus. To Holdo. I fought with Holdo. She was a good leader.”

My stomach lurched, but I tried to still appear calm as every eye came to rest on us. I felt Poe’s anxiety which only heightened my own nerves. I wanted to throw myself at the feet of the crowd and let them all have a free punch. I deserved it. But it wouldn’t do much good. Maz’s emotion provoking questions and Poe’s ‘we fix it’ answer played in my head at a dizzying speed. Everything I did from here on out was about trying to make amends for what I’d done. Just as Poe and I had promised Black Squadron.

“I agree,” Poe finally said.

“Me too” I immediately followed.

“You agree?” the veteran smiled cruelly, “That’s not what I heard, that’s not what any of us heard.”

He motioned to the rest of Phantom Squadron plus Wedge and Norra. Snap must have told them what had happened, he was right to have done so. They deserved to know what they were walking into, gut-wrenching details and all.

“You two are the ones who should be in the brig,” the veteran went on further, “Or better yet, tossed out of an air lock.”

There were quiet agreements coming from the crowd, I had to fight to keep the heartbreak from reaching my face. I’d disappointed so many people. One look at the tears I was holding back and Poe instinctively took over.

“You’re right,” Poe said loudly, garnering everyone’s eyes on him, “You’re absolutely right. We disobeyed a direct order, we got people killed, we undermined our commander, and led a mutiny. And if you don’t think that eats both of us up, that it haunts us every day, every minute, then you don’t know a damn thing.”

I blinked back my tears and watched him keep going, “And yeah, you could lock me up, throw me into space, but you tell me how that helps the Resistance? How that brings down the First Order? Because, trust me, if I thought my death would bring them down, I’d sacrifice myself in a heartbeat,” he snapped his fingers before pointing to me, “And Commander Solo already tried. She was willing to die at the hands of the First Order just so the Resistance could live.”  “Poe,” Finn said to my side, shaking his head in disapproval of the images Poe was painting.

Jess came forward suddenly, “Poe’s my squad leader and I trust him with my life. There’s no one else I want leading Black Squadron. Y/n too, she’s one of the best commanders the Resistance has got.”

“He saved our butts over Grail City just a few days ago,” Karé added.

“And he saved mine on Jakku,” Finn said, “Y/n did too on Takodana.”  “And mine on Crait,” another voice called.

“And mine.”  More and more people spoke up with instances where Poe and I had been competent commanders. It was overwhelming, I let a stray tear fall in gratitude. The belief that the Resistance still had in Poe and I was not deserved, but I had no choice but to accept it.. Poe’s head was ducked, it was hitting him just as hard.

After a moment, the room settled down and Poe looked to me. He was silently asking if I wanted to say anything, I shook my head slightly and let him take the floor once again. He had always been better at public speaking than me, he was altogether a more confidant leader even in his worst moments.

“We’ve all made choices. Choices that caused harm, led to destruction, even at times death. We are all responsible for our deeds. The great and the terrible. But if we define ourselves only by what we’ve done, only by our failures, then this Resistance, this spark? It dies here and now. We’re all here because we have a chance to change things. A chance to change the galaxy. A chance to change ourselves. But we have to make that commitment. That choice. A choice...”

He stopped, searching for the words to cap off his inspiring speech.

“A choice to be better,” Zay finished his sentence as she stepped forward. She was so young but was lightyears ahead of others with her passion for the cause.

“A choice to be better,” Poe echoed.

As I scanned over the crowd, there were smiles and nods of approval. One person even clapped. Wedge said something I couldn’t hear but it had roused laughter from the people around him. After that, everyone started to break off in their own groups and conversations.

“Hey,” I touched Poe’s arm, “I’m proud of you.”  The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly, “They’ll want to hear from you too at some point.”  “You’re better at rousing a crowd than I am,” I complimented, “Besides, according to Zay, everyone already knows what they need to about me.” I shot him a wink as he chuckled, “I’m gonna go talk to Mom.”

I broke away, surprisingly my mother wasn’t surrounded by people for once. I had a hunch she was waiting for me.

“Not too bad,” I said as I approached her, “We’re not a fleet but we’re not nothing.”  “It’s hope,” she replied knowingly, “That’s more necessary in a war than a fleet. Although, a fleet would be nice.”  I smiled, attempting to mask the pain I’d been trying to hide all day. It had broken me down in the ship with Poe, but I couldn’t fall apart a second time in front of people.

Mom, as usual, sensed it. “I miss him too. I could use him right now.”  “He’d just want to run headfirst into the fight,” I chuckled sadly, remembering stories of my father charging into battle with little to no plan.

“You’d be surprised,” Mom raised an eyebrow and smiled nostalgically, “He was a better general in the war than you’d think. Now,” she squeezed my hand warmly, “Let’s get to work, Commander.”  I was thankful for the snap back to the present, that’s where I needed to be. We went around gathering the people Mom wanted as her new leadership team, including our gracious host, Yendor.

“Commander,” Mom called out to Poe, he abruptly ended his conversation with Zay to join us, “I would like you all to join Ambassador Yendor and me for tea. There’s much we need to discuss, and little time to do it.”

————

We made our way into what was formerly Yendor’s library, it had now been converted to a war room. There was a large round table in the middle of the room with a holo readout that contained inventory lists of our resources, people and supplies. It was shockingly low, all of it.

“Hey,” Rey greeted me quietly as I stared at the lists, “How’d things go with Maz?”

I puffed out my cheeks and exhaled, “Not great.”  “She can’t help?”

“She won’t help,” I turned away from the holo and began to stroll the room with her, “I don’t pretend to understand how Maz works. She usually speaks so cryptically but what Poe and I got was a flat out rejection.”  “Maybe she’ll still find a way to come through,” she suggested as we planted ourselves in a corner of the room.

Rey hadn’t been there, she hadn’t heard Maz’s callous words. How she’d simply sat back in her lounge chair while we were struggling to keep our heads above water. “You’re much more hopeful than I am.”

A smile flashed across her face, “Someone I know told me something about the people I place my hope in. They won’t always disappoint me.”   “You have to be careful who you take your advice from,” I teased, bumping my hip into hers.

 After sharing a laugh, Rey’s expression sobered quickly. “Y/n, there’s something I didn’t get to tell you about my visit with Luke. It’s something that concerns you.”  “What is it?” I asked, pushing off the wall we were leant against.

“He told me that when you-“  “I’m sorry,” Wedge interjected, tapping me on the shoulder, “Y/n, we’re about to start.”  Damn everything, I wanted to hear what Rey had to say. What Uncle Luke had told her. It could’ve been something to do with his vision, something about my future. But there were more pressing matters at hand and I needed to prioritize.

I sighed frustratedly before pointing to Rey, “We will finish this conversation.” I turned with Wedge to go join the group, trying to put the subject of my uncle’s post-humous words anywhere but the forefront of my mind. I spotted Poe and headed for the empty spot next to him. He was, shockingly, in pleasant conversation with the veteran pilot who had wanted to throw us into spaces moments ago. I only caught the last thing Poe said.

“It’s a deal.”  The large man gave Poe a hearty pat on the back, sending Poe stumbling forward. I caught his arm and steadied him, “Do I want to know what bet you just made?”

“A race,” he answered in a low tone, “That I’ll win. If I weren’t the better pilot, he’d get to shave my head.”  I shot him a disapproving glance but didn’t get time to voice my thoughts as the room went hush. Poe had never been in the habit of betting credits like a normal person. But then again, he never lost if it involved flying.  

“I’m glad you’re all here.” Mom’s voice echoed in the large room, all attention was given to her, “I know many of you came at great personal cost with small hope of success. I can’t promise that we will survive this. That we will all still be alive tomorrow, or the day after. But I can promise you one thing. I will fight beside you until the end.”

“If I may,” Norra Wexley said after a few seconds of silence, “Everyone in this room knows what they signed up for, General. This isn’t our first battle, although it might be our last. We’re done with ‘homes.’ We’ve made our choice. This,” Norra gestured to our team, “This is our home now. The Resistance is our family. And just like you, we’re ready to die for it.”

Mom looked touched enough to cry, but instead ducked her head, “And the rest of you? Is that how you all feel?”

A resounding chorus of agreements came from each person around the table.

“Then we have work to do. Yendor?” 

The aforementioned Twi’lek came forward, he looked almost regal. “Welcome to Ryloth,” he greeted us, “Like Leia, I thank each of you for all that you have sacrificed. We are all here for the same purpose: to stand against the tyranny of the First Order. Those of us from Ryloth know a thing or two about standing against tyranny. I and my children and those who are part of the Ryloth Defense Authority offer you all we have, but as you can see, we are few.”

“You called the Resistance’s allies from Crait, did you not?” General Rieekan addressed Mom, “Others will come.”

She frowned as she remembered the disappointment on Crait. “So far the only allies we have been able to reach are the ones you see in front of you. We suspect that the First Order has been rounding up and imprisoning those sympathetic to the Resistance, and we think that they’ve figured out how to block our frequencies, but we aren’t sure. We can’t rely on reinforcements. Not at this point.”

There was more discussion about the subject, it was made clear that General Rieekan was unaware of just how large a threat the First Order had become. Contrary to what he thought, they were 100% capable of taking prisoners.

“Besides, what do they need?” Wedge asked, “A few local governments to look the other way, a few dark holes to lose people in. It’s not hard.”

“Speaking of local governments,” Charth, one of Yendor’s children, spoke up for the first time, “you should all understand that while Ryloth welcomes you in your time of need, there has been a complication.”

“Complication?” I asked.

“The First Order has come to Ryloth,” Mom answered, “Not because of us. As far as we know, they aren’t aware of our presence here.”

While it was worrisome, I was secretly relieved for personal reasons. I couldn’t sense Ren’s presence on the planet. Charth went on to explain that the First Order wanted to tithe their shipping lanes to raise money to rebuild the ships they’d lost, ironically, fighting us. It felt good to have put the tiniest dent in their fleet.

“I suggest we act quickly,” Mom went on, “Given our time and our limitations, I am most concerned with rebuilding our forces, giving us another week, another month. A foundation. I had hoped for time to find more leadership, but...I want ideas.”

“Ships,” Poe answered quickly, pointing to the holo inventory list that detailed our ships, “Is this up-to-date?”

“Yes,” Rey answered from where I’d left her, “I saw Rose account for the arriving ships before we met here.”  Poe nodded to her before turning back to the table, “I see a handful of starfighters, a few transports, a yacht. It’s not a fleet, and we can’t fight much less expect to win any kind of battle against the First Order with equipment like this. We need ships.”

“I agree. How do you suggest we get these ships?” Mom asked.

“We could steal them,” Norra suggested, “The First Order’s actively building fighters. You just said so,” she finished, gesturing toward Charth.

“The rumor is the Corellian shipyards are running continuously to meet the quotas,” the Twi’lek confirmed.

“Then we go to Corellia,” Poe said with a clap, as if it was an easy task.

“Too high-profile,” Wedge said, “And we don’t have enough people to stage a raid.”

“Send me in with a handful of pilots and I’ll get your ships for you,” Poe continued his urging, these were the moments where he needed to slow down.

Mom shook her head in rejection of the idea, “Wedge is right. We can’t risk the few pilots we have to liberate a handful of ships. We need a more strategic plan.”

She waited a beat, expecting Poe to argue that he could get the job done. I was proud of him for staying resigned, he was actively trying to do better at following orders.

“Bracca,” Shriv spoke up, “It’s just a thought.”

I’d never been to Bracca, but Pacer explained that it was a junker planet. Not exactly what we were in search of.

“It sounds like a waste of valuable time,” I commented, hoping Shriv didn’t take too much offense, “Time we can’t spend stealing junkyard scrap, we need functional ships.”

“Bracca has become the place that the First Order sends any and all claimed New Republic ships to be decommissioned and junked,” Finn countered from nearby, “It’s bound to be a treasure trove of the kind of ships we want. Parts, too. We could fix up those X-wings out there. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, and let’s face it. We’re beggars.”

Connix entered the room, out of breath. “A message came in on the Millennium Falcon,” she announced, looking to my mother, “From Maz Kanata. She said you’d want to see it immediately, or I wouldn’t have interrupted.”

Poe and turned to each other in confusion, what did Maz have to say that she didn’t say to us?

“Can you patch it through?” Mom asked.

After Charth helped Connix connect, Maz’s face replaced the inventory list in the center of the table.

“Greetings, Leia.” Maz greeted loudly as she looked around the room, “I see you’re doing well collecting your allies to you.”

“We would be better if you had joined us.” Mom replied, I had a feeling she was trying her hardest to be polite. After Poe and I had recounted our encounter with Maz, Mom was just as confused and slightly offended.

“Ah, of course, of course,” Maz said passively, “But the ways of the Force are mysterious, and it was not my time.”

“I hear you have news for us, Maz,” Mom continued, trying to propel the conversation forward.

“Yes!” Maz exclaimed, “Did Dameron and your daughter tell you of the list?”  “A rumored list of First Order political prisoners and dissidents,” Mom answered.

“It’s not just a rumor anymore. I’ve seen it. Well, parts of it.”

Everyone began to talk amongst themselves, Mom silenced them with a wave of her hand, “How?”  “A rule I live my life by: If you have anything worth stealing,” Maz said, “Someone will eventually steal it.”

“Someone stole the list?" Mom asked with a lightness to her voice.

“Fortunately, the thief who has acquired it is an old acquaintance of mine.”

“Will they give it to us?”

“Hard to tell. Nifera can be mercurial. She likes games,” Maz answered with in a playful tone.

“We have to play a game for it?” Mom raised a brow.

“Not exactly, but then again...” Maz went on, “She’s holding an auction at her birthday party. Invitation-only to the party, and the auction will happen sometime during the event. List goes to the highest bidder. You know how thieves are.”

“When and where?” Mom asked, we were finally starting to get somewhere.

“The party will be held on Corellia, in Coronet City,” Maz explained, “As for when, you’ll just have to be ready to move quickly when the information comes in. I should know soon.”

Poe and I connected the dots at the same time and shared a smile before he addressed the group, “As long as we’re in Coronet City, might as well pick up some ships.”  Mom muttered something I couldn’t hear, but I made out the word ‘Force’. She turned her attention back to Maz, “Maz, you said it’s invitation-only? Can we-”

“I’ve already taken care of it,” Maz waved a hand, “Two invitations secured. One for a handsome but unscrupulous profiteer from Canto Bight, his wife and his junior business partner, and one for the ambassador of Ryloth and guest. It’s the best I could do under the circumstances. You’ll have to improvise.”

“Who’s the profiteer from Canto Bight?” Poe questioned with a scrunched brow, “There’s no one like that with the Resistance.”

“Well, of course not, Dameron. I made him up. Pick someone, whoever you like. But,” Maz said with a devious smile sliding across her face, “I was thinking of you when I said he was handsome.”

Maz flourished her sentence with a wink, my entire body went rigid as I tried to contain my laughter. I rubbed a hand over my mouth to conceal my grin. It became harder to hide when the veteran pilot Poe had been talking with slapped him on the back and said, “The little woman has you there, you are a handsome man.”

“Thank you, Maz,” Mom jumped in, “We accept the invitations.”  “Leia,” Rieekan quietly said, “How do we know this list is even real?”

“Who said that?” Maz asked, leaning forward in the holo, “Hmm...it’s real because I just confirmed it’s real. Didn’t you hear me? I’ve seen it.”

“You said you saw a partial list,” Rieeken corrected, “So even if we concede it’s real, how do we know it’s useful?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s useful or not” I strongly stated, “There are good people being kept prisoner for doing nothing more than disagreeing with the First Order. We have to help them.”  “They could be friends and family,” Norra supported me with a firm nod, “Y/n’s right. We should help them.”

“And we will,” Mom confirmed, “But Rieekan has a point. Our funds are limited. Before we commit to spending them at some thief’s auction, we should know more.”

 “We could just steal it,” Shriv suggested, “I mean, the list is stolen. We could just steal it again.”

“Is that really the best idea?” Poe asked.

“We’re talking about stealing ships, aren’t we?” Shriv shrugged, “What’s the difference?”

“Lifting a few First Order fighters is payback,” Norra said.

“I’d rather not turn the Resistance into a den of thieves,” Leia sighed, “But we’ll do what we have to do.”

“You’ll have to pay the reserve to be allowed into the auction,” Maz noted, “After that, it’s up to you. But if you get caught with your hand in the biscuit bin, there won’t be a nice trial and punishment, you know. These people will kill you.”

“Fun,” I whispered under my breath.

“Your friend sounds charming,” Mom said dryly.

“Meh,” Maz shrugged, “Rich, yes. Charm? Charm was never her strong point.”

“I still think we should see who and what is on this list before we commit to any action,” Rieekan objected once again, “Maz, can you share what you have?”

“It will come over encrypted,” Maz said before a sudden noise interrupted her, “Have to go, hope I see you in Coronet City. Especially you, Dameron. And wear something nice. This Canto Bight fellow is quite dapper, I hear,” Maz blew a kiss to Poe, “Tah!”

She disconnected and I leaned over discreetly to my boyfriend, “Looks like I’ve got competition.” The comment earned me an elbow in my side, it was well worth it to watch his face change ten shades of red.

“Did we get the partial list?” Mom asked Connix.

“She just sent the invitations,” she answered as she searched her data pad, “No list yet.”

“Thoughts, while we’re waiting?” Mom asked our group.

Eventually, with a little more discussion, it was decided that Shriv would take command of a squadron and head to Bracca. They were to collect as many star fighters as they were able to. Wedge had pulled Mom and Poe into a conversation where I overheard him proposing he should be the one to go to Corellia and get the list. Mom was just suggesting we wait and see the list when Connix announced it was transmitting. The holo appeared, branded with the First Order logo. Sure enough, there was a partial list of names and last known locations under the title ’Subversives’.

“Hey, Poe,” Finn said as he came to stand with us, “You’re finally on someone’s most-wanted.”  I quickly scanned down the list to see Poe’s initials with the word Crait next to it. A chill ran down my spine, I’d always known with our reputations that we were both high on the First Order’s kill list. But knowing and seeing were two different things and seeing his name made what we were doing feel all the more real. My own initials rested at the very top of the list, I wasn’t sure if it was organized by most wanted. If so, I knew exactly who wanted me dead that bad. I’d always feared for Poe’s life more than my own, but Crait had been a sobering experience. It had shown me just how much I didn’t want to die.

The tips of Poe’s fingers brushed the back of my hand lightly, just enough to let me know he was there. Had we not been in a room full of people, I would have been seeking comfort in his arms.

“This is an assassination list.” Norra’s voice broke my thoughts, “This is why we can’t find our allies. They’re hunting them down, one by one.”

“Well, they’re not going to get us,” Finn said confidently. I wished I was as steady as he was in the moment.

We looked over the rest of the list, it included the names of those currently detained and those they were planning on arresting. Next to their initials were their reason for arrest, which all sounded ridiculous. Something as simple as questioning a directive would get them imprisoned.

“So Maz’s friend can decode these names for us?” I asked, finally having drained the fear from my voice.

“That’s my understanding,” Mom said quietly, her eyes were still scanning the list.

“It’s smart,” Wedge observed, “The auction list, I mean. Offer enough information to make people think that someone they know is on the list but with no guarantees.”

“People will pay their last credits for even the possibility of finding their missing loved ones,” Norra added.

“When it could all be a false hope,” Snap voiced the , fear we were all trying to ignore, “Foolish people and foolish dreams.”

“Nothing foolish about hope,” Rey mumbled from nearby, I turned and we shared a knowing smile.

There was more talk and guessing as to who the initials might belong to. There were titles like senator and diplomat all the way to celebrities and athletes. Those thought dead now stood a chance at being alive. Poe turned to Mom to ask if we would go through with the plan. She suddenly appeared much older than she actually was, trembling and silent with her eyes glazed with tears. Poe and I were on each side of her instantly.

“What is it?” he asked with a protective hand on her shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“Mom,” I whispered, holding onto her waist, “Talk to me. Do you need to rest?”  She looked up with tear streaks painting her face, her lips curved into a smile. “It’s the list” she said in disbelief, “I-I never knew. I thought he was gone.” 

“Who?” Poe asked.

“An old friend,” she said as she patted our hands in reassurance that she was alright. We cautiously let go and went back to our spots next to her, keeping a close eye on her. “And if I’m reading it right, he’s being held on Coronet City."  As we discussed the possibility that it could all be a trap, it began to feel less like one. Mom now had another fire lit under her at the thought of being reunited with her old friend and though it was risky, it felt like a chance we needed to take.

“So we’re going after the list?” Poe asked after a moment.

Mom looked around the room and gauged everyone’s reactions. For the most part, we’d reached an agreement. “Yes, and the ships. And if you can, Senator Casterfo.”

“Leia,” Yendor said, shocked, “Do you think it could be?”  She gave a single nod. Whoever this person was, he meant something to a lot of people.

“And if we can’t?” I asked, hating to be pessimistic and dash my mother’s hope, ”What happens if it’s not him?”  Mom let out a heavy breath, “Then I’m a fool. But it doesn’t change our mission. We rescue those prisoners, anyway.”

I wanted it to be the person she was searching for. She needed a win after all she’d been though the past week. We all did.

Shriv confirmed that he had his team together to go to Bracca. Charth said that he would join Poe at the party with the invitation for the Ryloth ambassador. Wedge and Norra volunteered to go to Coronet City and retrieve the ships we needed. As Poe dismissed them, the pressure amplified. Three teams with three missions and the survival of the Resistance resting on their backs. While I still had doubts and there were a million ways any one of the plans could go wrong, I had faith. More than that, I had hope. I was so wrapped in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize there was a conversation happening next to me until Mom bumped me with her cane.

“Where’s your head, Commander?” Mom asked, Poe was beside her watching me carefully. Probably to make sure I wasn’t ready to fall apart, but I was far from it.

“In the future,” I answered firmly, “With the Resistance thriving.”

Mom smiled proudly, “Good answer.” She turned to leave, but Poe’s call of her name stopped her.

“What you said, about the First Order being on Ryloth,” he said, “Do you think it’s safe for you and Rieekan and the others to stay?”

She shook her head, “No. But there is no ‘somewhere safe’ for us anymore. We’ll stay as long as we can, monitor the missions and give tactical support.”

The fear was gnawing away at my stomach at the thought of the First Order figuring out where we were. I didn’t want us to get hit just as we were gaining a little bit of ground. “What happens if the First Order finds us?”  Mom sighed and patted both our arms, “Then we do what we always do, fight.”

Poe and I were left in silence, a few conversations continuing softly as people left the war room. It was a heavy thought Mom had left us with. But it caused another surge of determination to run through me, failure wasn’t an option.

“You good?” Poe asked, sliding a hand up my lower back.

“Yeah,” I replied, looking up to meet his wondering gaze, “C’mon, we’ve got work to do.”

“Hold on, speedy,” he laughed under his breath as he pulled me back to my spot, “We’ve got an important matter at hand.”

I narrowed my eyes in confusion as he took hold of both my hands. I quickly looked around to see that we were the last two people in the war room.

“It seems like I’m in need of a wife,” he said, referencing the invitation, “And I was wondering if you would do me the honor of…wait.”  Poe dropped to one knee, keeping my hands locked with his. The sincerity in his eyes made my heart flutter as we took advantage of a few seconds of intimate silence. “Y/n Solo, will you do me the honor of being my wife for the evening?”  “Poe Dameron,” I grinned, “I would love to be your one night wife.”

He let out an exaggerated exhale of relief, clutching his chest as if he’d thought I would decline. I laughed and began to pull him up, but he stayed planted on the ground.   “I think you’re forgetting something,” Poe said teasingly, squeezing my hands before releasing them. He reached around to the back of his neck, undoing the chain that lived permanently against his chest. He collected his mother’s ring in his palm and grabbed my hand again.  “Poe,” I protested hurriedly, “I can’t wear-“  “Yes,” he argued with a content smile, “You can. Even in a fake marriage, this is the only ring I’d ever consider giving you.”

I went silent as he slid the ring onto my fourth finger. It fit too perfectly, like it was made for me. I knew the history of who’d worn it before me and I hoped that had she still been alive, Shara would have approved of me. I had to remind myself it wasn’t a real proposal, no matter how much it felt like one.

Poe and I smiled softly at each other as he rose to his full height, pulling me into his arms for the hug I’d longed for since we’d arrived. I dug my head into his shoulder and took a deep breath, inhaling his comforting scent and trying to exhale every anxious thought I had.

“We need to get going,” Poe murmured, reluctantly pulling back from me.

“No, just a little longer,” I pleaded as I tightened my grip around him, “Please.”  Poe responded to my request silently by sinking back into our embrace, his warm palms seeping through my clothing to my skin. He face found its favorite place buried in my neck, pressing a few light kisses against the skin. My hands fisted the orange fabric of his flight suit. It felt like the galaxy had frozen time momentarily for us to simply hold each other. Just a few more seconds, I told myself, then we’d come back to our problems.

————

A/N: If you only knew what a chaotic trio there will be in next week’s chapter...😂 I’m not even going to mess around with adding the taglist because I know tumblr will mess it up again so I’ll place it in the comments. Hope you enjoyed! 🧡

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x solo!reader #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic

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like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

Love and War (Deathly Hallows x Reader)

Reader is dying in Harry's arms during the battle of Hogwarts. Reader explains to Harry that they hunted their whole house for that answer. Harry tells them that they've had the answer all along as they're the proof of their parents love. Reader cracks a smile before dying. Harry mourns you. Your mother and father are dueling and your mother is the first to notice your body. She screams coming towards you. She blames your father for your death and the duel continues. Your father loses intentionally to be with his child. As your father was dying against a pillar, he saw you waiting for him with a smile. You had come to retrieve him.

Harry closed the large book with a 'thud' before pressing his forehead against it, grumbling to himself quietly. You sat down opposite him with a smile. "Hey Harry." He looked up with tired eyes. "Oh, hey (Y/N)." "Did the reading for this essay kill you by chance? You look miserable." You teased lightly. Harry groaned in response. "Can I help?" You asked lightly. "You, a ravenclaw? A really smart person? help me? Yes! Please!" Harry's whined out a plea. "Come on, to the library, I'll help." You rose to a stand before nodding towards the doors. "Now? It's Friday night...I'm not bothering you, am I?" You chuckled. "Come on. We can get Hermione and Ron too. Besides, I've already done it. I finished it this morning." "Bloody hell." Ron dragged his hands down his face. "What...what am I looking at?" You giggled as Hermione rolled her eyes. "For one thing, Ronald." Hermione chastised. "You're looking at the wrong page." Hermione flicked forward a couple of pages and pointed to the page. Ron cast a glance over the page before looking up again, just as clueless. "What am I looking at here?" "It's for the essay, Ron." Hermione sighed. "...what essay?" Ron replied and Hermione groaned in frustration, her head in her hands. You snorted. "What are you three doing this weekend anyway?" You asked. "Hogsmeade tomorrow...right?" Ron looked to Hermione with uncertainty. "Yes, and then I'll be making sure these two have their essays ready on Sunday." Hermione sent pointed looks to the two boys. "What about you? You can come if you want?" Harry turned his attention to you. You shook your head. "Sorry, I can't. I, uh, have a meeting." "You what?" Ron's brow furrowed. You nodded. "Well, you-know-who is back and it's a little closer to home for me." You chewed your lip and the trio caught up.

Your mother was a professor in Hogwarts but your father was just as famous in the school grounds for being a death eater. "Is everything okay?" Hermione asked. You shifted slightly. "I'm not sure. He's, uh, got in contact with me." Harry's attention was completely on you. Hermione had a look of uncomfortable surprise whilst Ron looked confused and somewhat angry. You continued. "My mother is concerned that my father will try to take me from her and with him." "Why?" Harry asked. "... because he said he would in the letter to me." "What? As in, get into the castle!?" Hermione's jaw dropped. You nodded.

You sat in silence on the courtyard wall, Harry also deep in thought. "Can I tell you something?" You asked. "Yeah, sure." Harry said, his eyes looking at his shoes. "All of this stuff has made me wonder about my parents. I don't remember a time where they were together and they have no love for each other. They despise one another. It makes me wonder how they ever fell in love when they couldn't stand to breathe the same air as one another." "I don't know." Harry said as he thought it over. "Perhaps they just changed so much. Doesn't your mother talk about their relationship before?" You shook your head. "It doesn't matter to her anymore." You cracked a smile. "When I get home, I'm determined to find something that proves to me it was even real." "So you're going home?" Harry turned to look at you. You smiled. "Yes, they're will be some charms and spells to ensure our protection." You looked over at Harry. "It's not going to be the same without Dumbledore, is it?" Harry shook his head. "No." "Call it a hunch but I have a feeling you won't be coming back next year." He looked at you. "I have to find something." You nodded. "You and I both know you can't tell me, Harry. Not if my dad comes for me." Harry was relieved that you understood and even more so that he didn't have to say it. He had to protect you. You couldn't be another person to die for him. "I'll see you soon, yeah?" You hugged Harry who immediately hugged you back. When you returned to Hogwarts, Snape was the new Headmaster and he had wasted no time at all making his personal adjustments to the castle. You saw Neville Longbottom hurrying towards you. "Come with me! You have to see this!" Whilst he was excited, he was also quiet so that no prying ears overheard. To your surprise, he dragged you to the Gryffindor common room. He continued to pull you into the room revealing your friends and more importantly Ron, Hermione and Harry. You gasped and rushed to hug the nearest, which was Harry. He smiled, hugging you back. You were quick to hug Hermione and Ron only seconds later. "Oh am I glad to see you three!" You exclaimed.

Suddenly, Harry wished he had seen more of you, now that you were dying in his arms. Duelling surrounded him but he couldn't tear his eyes from you, even at the thought of Voldemort hunting him down. "I looked through that whole damned house." You managed out with a heartfelt smile. "I didn't find anything in the end." Harry pulled you closer to him. "Don't you get it?" Harry shook his head with a small pained smile. "You've had the answer all along. You're the proof." You smiled slightly. "I never thought of it that way." "You're better proof of their love than anything else, photos, gifts- they're nothing compared to you." "Don't forget me." You said suddenly. "Not even for a little bit. Okay?" Harry shook his head with a sad yet amused smile. "Don't be stupid. I couldn't even if I tried." You made a small hum of amusement in return before your smile began to fade. Your eyes glazed over and Harry knew you were gone. He cradled you to his chest for a moment, a few tears falling. After a few minutes, Harry gently lowered you to the ground, closing your eyelids. He wouldn't have anymore people die for him. Not for him.

Your mother and father locked eyes in the court yard, opponents once again. Every year you grew older and almost every years your mother and father were at odds. However, something caught her eye. She turned her head and in a moment her heart had been shattered. She let out a pained scream. Your father followed her gaze.

There, across the courtyard, was your body. Your face was tilted towards them, eyes shut. Yet they knew. They knew you were gone. Another fatality in amongst many others. Another child lost in the Battle of Hogwarts. Another life lost.

“You!” Your mother marched forward, eyes trained on your father. “This is your fault! My child is dead because of you!” Tears stung in her eyes, her jaw trembling with every word, making her voice quiver. Your father was taken aback before the pain hit him. His only child, dead. This isn’t what he had wanted, if anyone, he wanted you to live. More than anyone, he wanted you to live in the brilliant world he had foreseen for you, the world he wanted to create for you. However his allies didn’t seem to care in that moment because now his child had died. His beliefs solidified just as they had been long ago but his loyalty? It had been destroyed. He couldn’t serve the dark lord knowing his allies wiped his child from existence.

He watched your mothers rage build in her eyes as she flicked her wand. Light emerged and a sharp pain hit his side. Your father staggered back, hand flying to his side. He looked down at the wound under his hand before back up at her. Your mother looked surprised. "You...you let it hit you...on purpose." Your mother stammered slightly, her wand still raised.

It was something your father excelled at even as a child, he could predict moves quickly. He was one of the best in duels. He had blocked every previous attack your mother had ever cast towards him, some with more ease but not this time. "You said it yourself." Your father spoke through a clenched jaw. "We aren't going to win this. Azkaban for life is the only thing that is left for me but I don't choose that. I choose to be with our child. All I ask is that you send me to them." He cracked a smile. "You always were the more useful one and you're still needed. So send me to our child." Your mother's wand shook as she continued to point it at him, uncertain of what else to do. "I never got to thank you." Your father coughed. "For what?" Your mother asked quietly. "For giving me (Y/N). I wasn't around but...if there is an after life, I'll make it up to them." Your mother swallowed hard before nodding. "Then don't keep them waiting long." Your father nodded in response. "Go. Help the kids. Stay safe, won't you?" Another light quickly charged towards him. Your mother didn't respond and hurried away as your father slumped against a pillar next to your body. "I'll be there soon, (Y/N)." He said to himself quietly, no longer feeling the pain and struggling to stay conscious. Therefore, he decided to let go.

Your father did a double take to see you standing by the stairs in the courtyard, smiling directly at him. He exhaled, his eyes trailing to your body across the courtyard, his eyes travelled back to the other you that stood at the stairs. You smiled at him, moving towards him. In that moment your father knew that you were waiting for him and even more so, you had come to retrieve him.

#Harry Potter #battle of hogwarts #deathly hallows #reader #death eater #hogwarts #one shot #oneshot

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metanoiamorii · 3 years

Text

❛A DEVIL'S FINEST TRICK IS TO PERSUADE YOU THAT HE DOES NOT EXIST.❜

Dámianus took in a breath when he heard the familiar, annoying footsteps stomping forward. With haste, came the familiar, annoying voice. "Can you believe it?!"

Breathing in, it took his full strength to keep a leveled tone, not show his annoyance. "Believe what?"

His brother scowled, as if he was the idiot present. "They failed!"

"Pity." Was all Dámianus could think to say. He had to hide his smile upon hearing the news. He had an act to keep. "They must have not followed the plan, I did give them detailed instructions after all."

"How are you so apathetic?!" Makjo scoffed, eyes rolling. "That's our father—"

"Your father." Dámianus corrected. "You are his son, I am his errand boy."

"Oh wow, its a misery you proved yourself capable and he saw your potential!" Makjo mockingly threw back, going as far to make a fake, crying gesture to accompany his words.

Dámianus, however, quick to smile, tilted his head to the side. "Oh, does that mean he saw no potential in you?"

It was worth it, to watch the brat's features scrunch and his face to go red. A finger raised, and going to bite back. "You—"

Already walking off, Dámianus tucked the parchment beneath his arm. "I suppose I will go meet with our allies and see what went wrong." Casually he spoke, striding forward, leaning down, pecking his brother's cheek, and using the opportunity to quietly whisper, "Don't grow too comfortable. Many people will come for your crown." Before Makjo could reply, he had already taken his leave, to find better company he could tolerate.

At least the brat was an idiot. He had yet to see through everything. He had slipped up with their father, the bastard caught on at the last second. He barely corrected that.. But he had no doubt with Makjo, the brat would never see anything coming... still. He needed to be more careful if all were to be successful.

♧ Chosen Name: Dámianus D'truiryxr

♧ Aliases:

• Dame

• Dami

• Damocles Aliah Teivel; his human guise

• Your Glorious Insane Highness

• Ali; reserved for his nanny alone

• Funny Monkey Man; reserved for his partner

• Lord Teivel

• Princeling

♧ Known as:

• The Angel Of Darkness

• The Mad One of The Void

• The Mad Trickster

• The Mad One

• The Trickster of Madness

• The Bane of All

• The Lord of the Citadel of Madness

♧ Gender: Agender

♧ Preferred Pronouns: He/They

♧ Race: Old One

♧ Sexuality: Grey-Asexual; Aromantic

♧ Ethnicity: Will appear Kiyese in a human guise

♧ Height: 7'02 in his true appearance; 6'03.5 in a human appearance

♧ Age Appearance: In a human guise he appears in his late thirties, early forties.

♧ True Appearance: Dámianus is said to take after his mother more than his father. From his father he inherited the smooth rounded ears and slim, nearly hairless tail with a tuft of black fur at the tip. As the natural red eyes he possesses. He's rather slim, but tall, with pale skin. He possesses a set of dark wings that tend to drag behind him and are rarely used. For the most part, humanoid.

♧ Human Appearance: For the life of me, I cannot find out their name, so if anyone knows it please tell me.

♧ Key Personality Traits: Manipulative, Cunning, Brilliant, Quick-witted, Vengeful, Well Mannered

♧ Alignment: Lawful Evil

♧ Parents:

• Rihtyxr, father

• Unknown mother

♧ Siblings:

• Hinvyka, brother

• Kysia, sibling

• Tysie, sister

• Nevzan, brother

• Makjo, brother [deceased]

• Mal'rybos, brother

• Slyra, brother [deceased]

• A several hundred other siblings

♧ Partner(s):

• Misam

♧ Other Blood Relations:

• Tyronjis, uncle

• Kaiuroga, aunt

• Arz-Ler'erso, uncle

• Trik'Rjrkite, uncle

• Au-Zaiur'hka, aunt

• Rons'ta, uncle

• Gazini, cousin

• Ao-Ao, cousin

• Eoau, cousin

• Ny'jsetti, cousin

• Jitka Shirin, nanny, sister and maternal figure

♧ Allies:

• Isfétte

• Jitka Shirin

• Kregznic

• Marzomme

• E'aligesri

• Rohabizal

• Ao-Ao

• Eoau

• Gazini

• Jinx

• Ianira

• Misam

• Mehpijka'om

• Eskrja

• Grumpy

• A few hundred others I haven't fleshed out

♧ Enemies:

• Rons'ta

• Tyronjis

• Kaiuroga

• Arz-Ler'erso

• Trik'Rjrkite

• Au-Zaiur'hka

• Rihtyxr

♧ Brief Backstory:

The eldest of Rihtyxr's hundreds of children, Dámianus always served closer as an errand boy than a son. He grew up fast, without the choice of a childhood, to take care of his siblings. Early on, he accepted his role in the family and gracefully handled the responsibilities thrusted onto him. The older— maturer— he became, the more he would distant himself form his family and those family ties. He treated his family like colleagues and allies and not a family.

Only by the influence of Jitka and Isfétte would Dámianus finally accept his gifts and natural talent as a mastermind, and one manipulative son of a bitch. With their assistance and guidance, he would hone his talent to have power over them. When he finally held a strong belief in himself, he set himself to the task of consuming power. Slowly, he turned the allies of his family against them, buying their loyalty to serve him.

With the dependence the family held on him to make their plans and ensure their survival, he was able to trick them. He fooled them into going to war with Khaalida, and trapped them under her watch. The power vacuum was his for the taking... But he decided to play the long game. He allowed his siblings to fight for the power, and he accompanied his cousin— G'javinizia — on his travels across the multi-verse for a time. To further his own knowledge and powers.

When he finally became confident in himself once more, he returned. He got his old allies in line and began to form new ones. And soon, he finally began to get involved in the affair of Viogia to plant his influence. When his influence was sewn deep, Dámianus created his human guise and entered, to act first hand and began inacting the plans he had started so long ago.

♧ Weapon of Choice:

• Roibac'da, The Whip of Insanity

• Tac'bet, a sentient chain

• A set of chained gloves

• His signature cloak

• His sword collection

• A treasured fan he's gifted to his partner

♧ Classification: Trickster

♧ Power Domain: Madness, Trickery, Illusion, Psychic, Enchantment, Time, Wishes

♧ Playlist:

• Burn, Beth Crowley

• Where The Lonely Ones Roam, Digital Daggers

• Coming Home, Avenged Sevenfold

• Feeling Good, Michael Buble

• Broken Crown, Mumford and Sons

• Leader of the Broken Hearts, Papa Roach

• Centuries, Fall Out Boys

• Everyone Wants To Rule The World, Future Royalty

• When You're Evil, Voltaire

• You're Gonna Go Far Kid, The Offspring

• Hard To Kill, Beth Crowley

• Trouble, Valerie Broussard

• You Can Run, Adam Jones

• The Dark Ones, Karliene

• Keep You Safe, Crane Wives

• She Lit A Fire, Lord Huron

• Control, Halsey

• Castle, Halsey

• Monster, Imagine Dragons

• When The Day Comes, Nico and Vinz

• Last One Standing, Simple Plan

• Soldier's Dance, Adrisaurus

• Final Warning, Skylar Grey

• Angel of Darkness, Alex C

• Meet Me On The Battlefield, SVRCINA

• Night Of The Hunter, 30 Seconds To Mar

• Bad Man, King 810

• Throne, Bring Me The Horizon

• I'd Love To Change The World, King 810

♧ Current Wip: Coming Home [CH], The Legacy of Vires Ius [TSOVI], Mercy No More [MNO], A Rope In Hand [ARIH]; he's likely to appear in all of my wips in Viogia as a source of problem starter.

COMING HOME:

THE LEGACY OF VIRES IUS:

A ROPE IN HAND:

GENERAL:

ON ALL:

♧ Some fun facts!

• He has a pet cat named Grumpy, it's based off a displacer beast!

• He takes a shot of whiskey every time one of his idiots does something stupid.

• He's a man that just wants a vacation at this point, somewhere nice and quiet, a distant beach, without responsibilities.

• He says he doesn't like children, but if given the opportunity he'd probably adopt an entire orphanage or seventy.

• The only people he will possibly listen to, to get him to back down from doing something, is Jitka and Isfétte.

• He knows how to hold a grudge. It doesn't matter how many years it takes, he'll get payback... In an extreme fashion that is probably unwarranted in that degree.

• Given the chance, he would kill 96% of his siblings and family...

• Although he's the source of major chaos in the universe, he cares deeply for order and rules.

• In public he will dress in tailcoats, but as long as he's home he prefers to wear a variety of kimonos.

• The only way you can upset him is by: mentioning Rons'ta in his presence, favoring his siblings in his presence, dissing his nanny, being disrespectful towards women when he's around, hurting and/or belittling children and animals in his presence. And then, and only then, he'll kill you without remorse!

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blake-belladonna-defence-force · 4 years

Note

Aaahh- May you write a story about team rwby going off and exploring and they split into rb and wy and the bumbles talk about each other while apart? I had a dream about this and I thought it'd be cute! I love your writing and I thought you'd be best to bring it to life. If you don't want to just ignore this!

I may. Not sure how it turned out in comparison to your dream but I hope you enjoy, mate 😊

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Blake, I need you with me. I need your eyes. Yang, you’re with Weiss.”

Blake instantly shot Yang a worried glance. They hadn’t been separated from each other to such a degree since the intercom tower in Argus. She wanted Yang to understand that that wouldn’t happen again. She needed Yang to know that she wouldn’t let anything happen again.

“It’s okay.” Yang said, voice soft and eyes softer. “Go.”

“I’ll be back soon.” Blake said, head tilted up stubbornly.

“I know you will.” Yang whispered, gently grasping her hand for a moment before Ruby and Weiss called out to them respectively.

“Show time.” Yang said to Blake, giving her a two fingered salute and a wink before her expression softened and she slowly turned around to walk to Weiss, sending a final look over her shoulder to Blake.

Blake gave a worried hum and turned to Ruby. Yang was right. Time to go. Even if it did feel like a physical pain.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Mine cart to your right.”

“Oh! Thanks Blake!”

Blake smiled. She supposed it was a testament to how much her friend and leader trusted her to lead her through an environment where the young reaper was at a disadvantage.

Ruby was using her scroll’s torch to light the way but there were several dangers that presented themselves so that Blake’s night vision was needed.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Blake.” Ruby said softly as they made their way through the mine.

“I’m glad that my eyes are appreciated, then.” Blake said dryly, smirking slightly at the exasperated sigh that escaped her friend.

“You known that’s not what I mean.” Ruby huffed, carefully stepping over the tracks. “I just mean that- well. Team RWBY’s not the same without you. We all missed you. Especially Yang.”

“I missed you all too.” Blake said shakily into the air. It still seemed so… unreal to be back with her favourite people. To be fighting alongside them.

“Especially Yang?” Ruby asked, a clear smirk in her voice.

“Well. She’s- you know, she’s my partner! We’re compatible. We work well together.” Blake said stiffly. She did not need to be teased by her partner’s sister right now. Not when she was still sorting out her emotions.

“Yeah. Compatible. In more ways than one.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“What are you trying to say, Weiss?”

Yang huffed as they moved along through the mine master’s quarters. She loved Weiss like a sister and she was certainly living up to the annoying aspect of such a title.

“I’m just saying that it’s nice to see you letting Blake in again. You two work well together and have the hardest hitting combination attack in our team.” Weiss said simply, opening a data base with a grimace as dust flew off of it. “But I suppose it makes sense.”

“How do you mean?” Yang asked hesitantly. When Weiss turned around with a sly smirk, Yang knew she was in trouble.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me.” Ruby sang playfully as she sent Crescent Rose through a Sabyr.

“Ruby. Soulmates are not a thing. They’re a fairytale.” Blake said, agitation spiking. This is not the kind of conversation she wanted to be having. Not when she and Yang were still stuck in some kind of limbo!

“Okay. So tell me that you never felt like it was destiny. Tell me that you never felt a pull to her.” Ruby asked gently.

“Of course it’s not destiny! I chose her for a reason, Ruby! Not because of some red string of fate!”

“Then why did you choose her?”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Because Ruby needed a friend and Blake helped her.” Yang said quietly. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face what she and Blake had. Or at least ready to admit it out loud.

“And?” Weiss prompted gently.

“And because she was pretty? Alluring? What do you want from me, here?” Yang sighed wearily as she lifted a box down from a cupboard.

“Alluring? In what way?”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“She was so different to everything I had known. Obviously strong and capable, but she seemed kind. Joyful and light. Happy. I… had forgotten what that was like. I missed it.” Blake said softly as she and Ruby walked past another SDC crate. Gods. How could she undo all that hatred?

“So you chose her because she was happy?” Ruby asked curiously. “Because you wanted to be happy again?”

“No, I knew there was more to her than met the eye. I don’t know!” She said, frustrated with her own feelings. “She just… was the exact opposite of what I was used to! And when I saw her fight, it was like I already knew her moves!” Blake felt her breath hitch. No… it was impossible… but she continued, hands shaking as she slowly came to a realisation. “And when we first made proper eye contact, I could have sworn I met her somewhere before. It was like… I may not have known her but I knew her…” Blake came to a stop and turned to Ruby, voice thick and eyes wide with tears as she finished in a whisper; “it was like I knew her soul.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“… like I knew her soul.” Yang murmured, a small, shy smile forming on her face. “And as I got to know her, it was just confirming everything I already knew. Her smile and her laugh. Her fears and passion. Her dedication and loyalty. The way she doesn’t give up. It was like I was always meant to know all of these little things about her. Like she just fitted perfectly into every missing piece.” Yang said distantly. “Oh God.” She breathed as she turned to Weiss, eyes wide.

“Well. I think that that confirms my theory.” Weiss said, a soft, fond smile on her face.

“I wonder if she felt it too. If she still does.” Yang said quietly. She looked down at her feet anxiously. A hand on her bicep made her look up at Weiss.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“I’m pretty sure that Yang felt it too, Blake. But there’s only one way to find out.”

Blake swallowed thickly. Once upon a time, she had believed in soulmates and meant to be’s. She had believed in Adam and thought he was hers. But when that belief shattered, she assured herself she would never let herself believe again.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Both women had had their wings broken by life. But perhaps what they truly needed was to heal alongside another. Somebody who could lift them up when they needed it. Somebody who believes in them.

Maybe it wasn’t a red string of fate that bound them but a feather. As light and free as girls themselves. Never trapped, but always returning to what grounds them; each other.

#rwby #blake belladonna #bumbleby #yang xiao long #fanfic

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Clipped

[Wings AU]

Wing Reference

Tw: Discrimination

———————

“A TV show? Really? We’re getting a TV interview?” Cathy said, wide-eyed.

“Yes!” Anne said excitedly. “The director told me! Isn’t that amazing? I mean, I knew we were popular, but not THAT popular.”

“Wow.” Jane looked up thoughtfully, like she was trying to imagine herself on television. “That’s wonderful! When is it?”

“This Friday,” Anne told her. “So everyone, get your best wing accessories!”

“Well, not everyone is gonna need some.” Kitty tittered.

“Hsst.” Aragon flicked her with one of her wings.

Nobody ever talked about why their music director didn’t have wings. Some of them assumed they had been cut off when she was younger for whatever reason, as she didn’t have any while she was a lady in waiting, but Cathy’s running theory was that she wasn’t born with any at all.

Instead of wings, Joan had awkward little wingbuds curling from her shoulder blades. And today, they looked the exactly same as yesterday: Small, tightly curled, and iridescent silver, with a gem-like gleam beneath the taut layer of flesh wrapped around them.

The wingbuds twitched at Kitty’s comment and everybody glanced at Joan, but if the comment bothered her (which it almost 100% does) she didn't show it on her face. She just straightened herself up some more and exhaled a sharp breath through her nose.

“Anne is right. We all have to look good for this.” She said. “And be ready to answer questions. You know how interviewers are.”

—

When Friday rolled around, the queens and Ladies met their interviewers, a robin named Carrie and a cardinal named Russel. They both seemed friendly enough and their wings were constantly snapping with energy, perhaps thanks to their job as anchors on a talk show, or perhaps they were just always like that.

The show started out with a performance of Ex-Wives and Six mashed together, thanks to Joan, who slaved herself over making the song. When that was over, the queens and Ladies took their seats on the studio stage and got to the questions.

The questions were normal- What’s it like being in such a big show? What’s your favorite song? If you could switch places and play a different queen, who would you choose? Was Henry really as bad as history says he was or was he worse?- and there were even some directed to the ladies in waiting, but then things took a turn for the worse when Carrie turned her attention to Joan and made a very bold move.

“I’m sorry if this sounds rude,” She said, and the queens and three other ladies in waiting all tensed up, already knowing where this was going. “But what’s wrong with you?”

Joan is very stiff from where she’s sitting, hands clasped together tightly in her lap. Her jaw is set firmly, but her eyes reflect a great amount of hurt and humiliation, and red flames flickered on her ears. Her wingbuds twitch slightly on her back.

“Well-”

“Don’t you eat?” Carrie went on, cutting Joan off, although it’s hard to tell if she meant to do it or if she did it on accident because Joan took a moment to finally speak up.

“What exactly are you supposed to be?” Russel chimed in, tilting his head at Joan as if she were a peculiar butterfly he found sitting on his windowsill.

“I’m-” Now Joan was really embarrassed. She looked down, stammering on a response. “I-I’m, umm...”

Although it was said quite rudely, nobody could really blame the hosts for asking such a thing. Avians were said to be magical, mostly because they can fly. Since everyone now seemed to be one, the government had to regulate the air space to keep them from crashing into each other and flying too high for safe breathing. Clothing was made with special flaps in the back to accommodate the extra appendages, much like sleeves. Avians decorate their wings like they would their hair, dyeing them different colors and accessorizing. Some people even pierce and tattoo their wings, even though the skin there is the most sensitive on their entire body.

But Joan didn’t look magical. She just looked like a defective toy on an assembly line of correct products- an eyesore that wasn’t thrown out.

“I’m...” Joan tried one more time to muster up an answer, but nothing came out. She looked down, wringing her hands in her shirt.

“I couldn’t imagine not having my wings,” Carrie said woefully, and her robin wings ruffled on her back to enunciate her point. “What a sad life you must live.”

Joan winced and shrunk in her seat. If she had wings of her own, then she definitely would have been using them to shield herself. But, then again, if she had wings, then she wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

“Are you one of the wingless?” Russel asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Don’t you see those things on her back?” Carrie said. “Clearly she’s SUPPOSED to have wings. She just doesn’t.” She turned back to Joan, her eyes lit up in curiosity. “Why didn’t yours grow when you were born?”

Joan looked absolutely helpless. She glanced around her, at the queens, at the others ladies, even at the camera crew and live studio audience, but she didn’t seem to find any support in anyone. None of them could relate to her; they all had wings.

They were all normal.

“I don’t know,” Joan whispered.

“Don’t be rude.” Aragon spoke up. She tipped her glistening golden pheasant wings at the hosts, but they barely seemed affected by the action.

“What a bore it must be to not be able to fly,” Carrie mused. “I bet you feel like half of a person. Hardly a person at all. Such strange little bumps on your back, though.” She tilted her head at the wingbuds as if they were gemstones growing from Joan’s back.

“They’re called wingbuds.” Anne said.

“They have actual names?” Carrier goggled at the parrot. “How weird!”

“Can I touch one?”

“NO!!”

It was unknown as to who looked more horrified: The queens, the other three ladies in waiting, the hosts, the audience, or Joan.

“They’re sensitive,” Aragon quickly said to Russel, who had asked. “So they shouldn’t be touched.”

“Ah,” Russel said, nodding knowingly, despite probably not knowing that at all. “I see.”

“They’re sensitive?” Carrie echoed. “Then they might come in soon.” She gave Joan a sickly sweet smile. “Pray for that, little bird!”

Joan slumped and nodded dejectedly. She wouldn’t pray, though. That never got her anywhere.

———

If there was one thing that Joan really, truly hated it was the stark belief by everyone around him that the world was black and white.

Black and white. Good and Evil. Angels and Demons.

Right from the moment he was old enough to understand the concept, he had been told the same damn thing, over and over again.

If you weren’t an angel then you were a demon. If you weren’t a demon, either, then you weren’t a person.

In a world where everyone had wings, Joan was wingless.

In a world that believed that all people with bright, colorful bird wings were angels that wouldn’t hurt a fly but were often sanctimonious and arrogant, Joan was nothing.

In a world that believed that all people with crow were demons, cruel and twisted but with so much more passion than their counterparts, Joan was less than nothing.

Beast.

It was a name that even outstripped the title of coward that her mother and father had been given for fleeing their pale-winged snowy owl son and malformed daughter. The same title she had earned when she entered court, where she had been surrounded by wings swathed in gemstones and chains and silk. But then, no one expected a beast, something more like an animal than an avian, to understand loyalty and honor could they?

In her past life, it was years later that she’d learn that Peter only married her for the challenge, the adventure of taming the wild beast that lived in the court. She wasn’t much of a beast in that respect, too quiet, too shy, and too content to spend his days spinning wool and playing the harpsichord- she’d been a disappointment from the first day.

He hadn’t loved her. Her mistresses didn’t love her, although she had hoped they would. Her parents didn’t love her, either. The only person who ever loved her for who she was was her brother, John.

John was the only person Joan knew who accepted her for all her faults and failings. For her cowardice, her shyness, and her lack of wings. Joan loved him and, in a moment of terror at the thought of being the cowardly lame beast again, she betrayed that love. And he left her. He flew away on his own.

It would be centuries before she found someone who could accept her as she was again. Centuries of darkness of meeting people who either looked at her with disgust (secure in their superiority), fear (of the beast she was) or pity (for the poor, lost creature that tried to be an avian but couldn’t possibly be). She tolerated those that feared her far more than those that pitied or were disgusted.

But the robin and cardinal who had hosted the TV show? She didn’t even know what their reactions were. They seemed to be more in awe at her deformity, but not in a good way. They ogled her in a way that made her want to shrivel up in a ball and just die.

Their stares seemed to linger on her for the rest of the day. And that sort of stress is what made her back hurt more than it usually did.

No matter how much Joan scratched her shoulder blades, the itch won’t go away. It always prickled in her back, and she tries to force it away, she really does. She itches and itches until it looks like cat scratches down her back. She presses against the backs of chairs when no one is looking, wool and wood rough against her back. And still, the itch doesn’t go away, only lessens, just barely.

It’s maddening.

———

“It’s for you,” Jane said tiredly, trudging away from the door. Her huge harpy eagle wings were dragging on the ground; she must have been ready to sleep if she weren’t lifting them.

Aragon watched her go in amusement before walking towards the front door. There, she found the little wingless fledging who she had taken under her wing, into her nest, awhile ago.

“Hello, Joan,” She greeted warmly. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“U-umm…” Joan gestured for her back.

Aragon frowned, knowing exactly what that meant.

“Of course, my darling. Come on. Take off your shirt when you’re in my room.

Shyly, Joan followed Aragon up into her bedroom, wrestling off her shirt once she was inside. She sat down in front of Aragon on the bed.

Aragon hummed worriedly when she saw how red the wingbuds extending from Joan’s back were.

“They feel a little inflamed,” Aragon said, carefully prodding around one of the buds.” How long have they been hurting?”

“A few days, I think.”

Aragon frowned deeply at that.

“Honey…” She sighed, “Why didn’t you tell someone?”

Joan shrugged.

“Didn’t want to worry anyone..”

Another sigh.

Aragon began to gingerly knead the area around the wingbuds, making slow, deliberate circles with her thumbs against the distended shoulder blades. Even with her careful moments, Joan still winced and flinched a few times, but held still as best as she could.

“C-can you go down a little bit?” The fledging asked shyly.

“Here?” Aragon pressed just beneath one of the buds and Joan nodded. She massaged carefully in that area.

“Your muscles are really stiff, love.” Aragon said, "Think you can flutter your wingbuds for me? It might get some of the tension out.”

“I’d rather not,” Joan breathed.

“I know, sweetie, but your back is really locked up. It probably isn’t very comfortable.”

Joan gave in and flexed the wingbuds, which sent strings of fire shooting through every nerve. Aragon helps her through it by gently rubbing her back to try and loosen some tenseness in her muscles.

“Shh, shh,” Aragon murmured when she heard a tight whimper, “You’re okay, darling. You’re okay. You’re doing so good, you know that?”

Joan shook her head a little.

“Well, now you do,” Aragon said, “Would you like me to go get a cool rag? Would that help?”

“N-no. P-please don’t leave me.” Joan whimpered out, “Please, Catalina…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Joan,” Aragon assured her, “You must be tired, huh? Do you want to try to sleep or should I keep-”

“Sleep.” Joan said. “Please.”

“Alright.”

After pulling her shirt back on, Joan laid down next to Aragon, feeling her soft golden pheasant wings bundle her up. Slowly, she’s able to drift off.

—————

The next morning, Aragon woke up to Joan trembling in exhaustion and pain.

She says she’s fine.

#wings au #bird wings au #six the musical #six the musical au #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #catherine parr #anne boleyn #jane seymour #katherine howard #catherine of aragon #anna of cleves #joan on the keys #tw: discrimination

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

Text

Conversations with Dead People || Ariana & Kaden

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @letsbenditlikebennett ft. a special dream brought to life guest SUMMARY: When Ariana goes to Kaden to drop off a fresh batch of treats for Abel, she asks him some serious questions and some dreams come to life. CONTENT: Grief

With the full moon that recently passed, Ariana had a fresh new batch of venison dog treats for Luna and all her other favorite dogs in town. Making dog treats served as a good distraction to the feeling of lead in her chest weighing her down as she tried her damnedest not to think of Winn. Everything was still too fresh and she needed to keep her mind occupied to keep from totally losing it. With dog treats done and stew in the slow cooker, she had decided to deliver Abel’s treats over to Kaden’s. He was expecting her, but the sense of dread she felt about seeing him wouldn’t go away. She had to ask though. She didn’t smell him on the scene, but something about the scent near the gunfire was off. Familiar but not at the same time. She needed to know it wasn’t him. She needed to know that not letting Winn speak up about Kaden the last time the pack got together didn’t cost Winn his life. She couldn’t keep carrying the blame in her that two people she loved died because of her careless and naive actions. The circles under her eyes kept growing darker and she knew they were still puffy as she knocked on his door. “Hey,” she greeted more quietly than normal as he opened the door, “I wanted to bring these by for Abel.” She held up the ziploc bag full of venison jerky and biscuits. “I was also hoping you’d have a bit of time to talk?” She looked up to him now, pleading evident in her tired eyes.

Abel always knew when someone was at the door before Kaden did. “Hold on, calm down, stop barking,” he said to the dog as he got up from the couch. Ariana told him she was coming over to deliver treats, should be a quick hand off. It didn’t make sense to him how much he seemingly liked the girl. She was kind and caring and a pain in the ass a lot of times, not unlike Blanche. But she was also a werewolf. Very much so. He felt the chill down his spine before his hand had even reached the doorknob. Putain, he couldn’t make sense of it. Why did he care at all? And why was she being nice to him? He knew why. Deep down he did. Celeste. Something about her sister tethered them together. But at a certain point, when was it still respecting his fallen friend and just being friends with a werewolf? Kaden wasn’t sure. And he was going to keep putting off that question. Because this was going to be a quick and simple hand off. “Hey,” he said as he opened the door. Shit. Why did she look so rough? No. It didn’t matter. “Thanks for the treats.” He was about to take the bag and close the door, Abel’s nose nuzzling out around his side, trying desperately to push his way to the girl for pets. “Abel, stay back, we’re not-- Wait, you were?” His brow furrowed, mouth pulled into a thin line. Shit, she really did look upset. He could still say no. Say he was busy. Tell her to go away. But he looked in her eyes and sighed. “Yeah, sure, come in.”

There was always a certain hesitation that came with their in person interactions that threw Ariana off guard. She guessed it wasn’t too surprising considering what they both were. By nature, they were supposed to hate each other, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to hate someone her sister had cared for. Especially, when it bridged the gaps between their two worlds in the way. She had to believe that Kaden saw her as a person, it was clear he wanted to keep her out of harm’s way and that wasn’t just some loyalty to Celeste. It didn’t put her stomach at ease though. Part of her wanted to cling to the idea that he’d never be so reckless as to shoot a wolf in human form point blank in the middle of town, especially as a cop, but she had to know. “Yeah,” she answered, her voice still sounding ragged from lack of sleep and too many tears cried. She followed him into his apartment and reached a hand out for Abel to sniff. A weak smile formed on her lips as he seemed eager to greet her. She gave his head a few gentle pets before flopping onto Kaden’s couch. She fidgeted with her hands a moment, not entirely ready to dive into the questions she had, but she knew putting it off was only going to increase the tension. “I,” she started and decided to look up to him, “I don’t want to accuse you of anything because I don’t really think you’d-- I mean you’re a cop, you wouldn’t just shoot someone in the middle of town even if they were a wolf, right?” She did her best to fight the tears that were threatening to spill over. Whatever the truth was, she needed to deal with it. Nothing was going to change the fact her friend was still dead, but at least she’d know if she really did need to put some distance between herself and Kaden.

Kaden’s mouth pulled into a thin line as he pulled the door open to let her in, shepherding Abel behind him. It didn’t matter much, the dog was immediately at her side, asking for attention. At least one of them was perfectly at ease with the whole situation. As she parked herself on the couch, he crossed his arms and leaned up against the chair across the way, still standing. It felt wrong, the idea of getting comfortable while it felt like ants were crawling down his spine. As much as he wanted sometimes to forget what she was, the world would never let him. Maybe it was for the best. His head tilted and he leaned in a bit as she fumbled, trying to find the words she was looking for before she did. And really, he should have seen it coming. “That’s what you wanted to ask,” he said painly, looking away a moment, trying to keep from rolling his eyes even a little. He was so fucking tried of fielding this question, but she was clearly upset, there didn’t seem to be a reason to twist the knife in if he could avoid it. “No, it wasn’t me.” He clenched his jaw and held back that he wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot Winn Woods as a wolf at any moment, especially knowing what he knew. “You’re right. I’m not stupid enough to shoot someone in the middle of the day right out in the middle of town.” He couldn’t tell why being asked if he killed a wolf was getting under his skin like this. Because he would have killed that wolf. And he wasn’t particularly upset that he was gone. And yet, somehow being asked over and over again whether or not he did it dug into him a little more. “What if I was, Ari? What then?” he asked, arms still crossed, eyes averting hers. It was probably stupid to ask. And not the time. But the question kept eating at him.

Any relief that it wasn’t Kaden who killed Winn quickly faded when Ariana realized whoever did was still out there. It wasn’t a comforting thought. Who was to say she wouldn’t be shot leaving the kids’ soccer practice one day. She didn’t believe it was right or that she had deserved as much, but neither had Winn. She nodded along slowly and remarked, “I didn’t think you did, I just…” She wasn’t quite sure. Her mind was tired and weary which made it harder to explain what was going on, but she could try. “I guess I just had to know it wasn’t my,” she cut herself off. Would it have really been her fault? Winn had cautioned anyone Kaden hurt after she insisted on not putting a target on his head was on her. Was she wrong to trust him? She wished more than anything Celeste was here. All she wanted to do was keep a part of Celeste alive with her and it was growing increasingly difficult when the world kept wanting to stomp out any shred of optimism and hope she had left. She shifted uncomfortably on the couch and it seemed the dog picked up on her tension. His next question was loaded and she had no idea what the answer was. “Honestly,” she answered, “I don’t really know-- I wouldn’t” She wouldn’t what? Hurt him? That much was apparent, she didn’t have it in her. Even if the belief she had in him becoming a better person was shattered, she still couldn’t kill him. Would she stop others from trying? She still couldn’t figure as much out. “I couldn’t hurt you. Which maybe that makes me stupid and naive or whatever the hell else has been implied when I didn’t let a bunch of wolves put an actual target on your head, but I’m just glad it wasn’t you. I’m glad it wasn’t my fault he’s gone. Celeste already--” She found it hard to finish the sentence as her voice cracked. Celeste being gone had been her fault as much as everyone liked to convince her it wasn’t. If she hadn’t insisted on staying in this stupid town, they’d be somewhere new and maybe she’d have to say goodbye to her friends, but Celeste would still be there.

Ariana hadn’t meant to let the tears well up in her eyes, but confronting this was hard and his question made her think of all the ways her own actions had cost her the people she loved. As she reached a hand to rub her eyes before any could fall, she let out a small gasp. She clutched the edges of her jacket sleeves and blinked a few times. She was still there somehow. This must have been a dream. She pinched herself and was still in the same room. She gave her face a small slap, willing herself to wake up if this was in fact a dream, but it turned out it wasn’t. Celeste was there wearing the same floral t-shirt she’d worn so many times before with a sad smile on her face. She’d seen her this way in dreams plenty of times, but she was awake now, wasn’t she? “Kaden,” she breathed out barely above whisper, “Turn around.”

Kaden resisted the urge to question why she had to ask him if she didn’t think it was him. She was just a kid. Sure, she was a werewolf, but sitting on his couch was a teenage girl on the brink of tears, too. He shifted, uncomfortable, not sure if he should offer comfort or just carry on as he was. Things were so much simpler when he just killed werewolves and didn’t let them into his life. Making exceptions complicated the rules. Along with everything else. Sometimes he wondered if his life wouldn’t have been better had he never met Celeste. No. The thought alone felt like poison, guilt seeped through for even considering it. There’s no way that was true. But if that wasn’t true, then it still left him here. Kaden continued to stand there, planned to let her sort out her feelings before jumping in. But then she elaborated. “When you what?” The creases in his forehead deepened as he tried to take on the full weight of what she said. “Hold on, a bunch of wolves knew I was a hunter? Did you tell them? But wait you stopped them from-- They were going to--” There were too many things stirring around inside him. He couldn't sort through the emotions bubbling up. Anger. That was easy to identify. But something else. Hurt? Was that… Fuck it, didn’t matter. Emotions weren’t productive. Answers first. He could figure out how the hell to feel about any of this later.

His fingers dug into his palm as he held his hand in a fist, arms still crossed in front of him, trying to keep it that way. Kaden should just leave her be. Let this interaction end and then keep some distance, not further complicate things. But putain, seeing her like that… His arms fell away and he took a tentative step towards her when she slapped herself. “Ari? Uh, what are you do--” His brow furrowed as she addressed him. “What? Turn a-- What are you talking about? Ari what are you--” He shook his head a little, her eyes clearly looking past him. Right. He slowly, carefully, pivoted on his heel to look behind him. And there she was. “Celeste?” His jaw fell open and he stood in stunned silence a moment. Was she a-- But she was-- She’d moved on. She had to. Right? She had to have moved on. And even then, since when could he see gh-- Kaden stumbled back and tripped over his coffee table and onto the floor as he scrambled away. He cursed and grumbled to himself before saying. “It can’t be. Ari, she-- It can’t be. ...Can it?”

The frustration began to seep in when Kaden didn’t recognize she’d done him a favor. Ariana narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, wanting to fight, even though it wouldn’t make her feel better at the end of the day. Winn would still be dead. Instead, she just grumbled, “No, I didn’t tell them you were a hunter-- I wouldn’t do that to you. Another wolf that you shot wanted to tell everyone. He’s dead now anyway so guess it doesn’t fucking matter.” She really needed him to meet her halfway here. Everyone advised her against having anything to do with him, but she still believed in him anyway. It’d be nice if he could act like she had done him a solid and protected him when that was what she was done, but all of that faded away when he said her name. When he saw that she was there, too. It couldn’t be though, right? Blanche would have seen her before now. If she was hanging around as a ghost, Ariana refused to believe she wasn’t with her so she told herself Celeste was at peace. If that was the case, how was she here? “You see her too,” Ariana questioned in a hushed voice.

Celeste’s figure took a few steps forward and Ariana felt her breath catch in her throat. Everything in her was screaming to reach out. Run and hug her. Do literally anything besides sit here dumbfounded, but she couldn’t shake that this wasn’t real. That if she reached out to touch her, she’d only fade away. All of that melted away when she spoke in the same gentle voice she used so many times before. “It’s me,” she said softly placing a hand on Ariana’s shoulder. It was enough for Ariana to give into the tears that had been threatening to spill over. She nearly left off the couch and into Celeste’s arm, burying her head in her chest and relishing in the familiar feeling of her sister running her hands over her hair. She was terrified to let go, terrified she’d wake up and everything would still be the same. “Shhh, you’ll be okay, Ari.” A few more pats on the head and Ariana finally pulled away. It sounded like her. Her body language was the same, but the question of how haunted her. “How are you here,” Ariana pressed, desperate for answers a not quite ghost wasn’t able to provide. “I’m not sure,” Celeste answered and turned to Kaden. She looked between her sister and her friend, “You’ve both come a long way I see.” She reached out to Kaden now, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and noted, “Nice bracelet.”

“Don’t get mad at me, I’m just trying to follow what happened! You dumped a lot of shit at once, putain! Like that there was a gathering of werewolves standing around deciding if they should throw my name into a pile to kill me,” Kaden spat back. He paused, pulled his mouth in a thin line and huffed out a breath through his nose. He shouldn’t be lashing out at her. She was upset and angry and falling into it himself wasn’t going to help matters. Still he could feel the pin pricks along his spin and rolled his shoulders back to try and roll away the tension. “I’m not trying to-- I’m just trying to figure out what you’re talking about.” If only he had some of Celeste’s patience right about now. It might do them both some good.

While he craved some help from her, the last thing Kaden expected to see was Celeste’s form. Right there in front of him. Talking to Ari. He wanted to watch the girl’s reaction, see if she noticed anything off, make sure they were on the same page, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his friend. It didn’t make any damn sense. The creese in his brow deepened as her hand rested on his shoulder. “What? How? You--” He bit into his lip, trying to focus on the pain enough to hold back the tears pricking at his eyes. His eyes followed hers down to his wrist and back. Right. “Thanks.” No. Too late. Tears were coming. Kaden pressed his eyes shut and blinked what he could away. And crazy enough, she was still there when he opened his eyes. It wasn’t possible, right? He’d wanted to see her so desperately for months but now that she was there in front of him, he didn’t know what to say. All the questions he had and conversations he’d wished for faded from his memory. On top of that, he still wasn’t convinced this was real. He pushed himself up and slowly started scooting closer to Ari. Just in case this wasn’t really Celeste. “How do we know it’s you? I mean-- The bracelet. But--” How could they be sure?

There was no chance to explain herself even though Ariana could understand where Kaden was coming from. She couldn’t focus on that with Celeste here. There had been so much that happened in the past few months that she had been dying to share with Celeste. Now that she finally had the chance, she was drawing a blank. She searched for a flaw in her form or body language that would give away a fake, but everything about her was just as she remembered. She was afraid to blink, that she’d open her eyes again and she’d just be gone. Tears were still present in her eyes and it was clear Kaden had a fresh wave coming in, too. Neither of them had expected this, but she didn’t want it to end. “Is it really you? You smell like… well, you,” she murmured, still unsure of this whole situation. This wasn’t possible, right? Impossible things happened in White Crest all the time and she wanted more than anything for this to be one of those things.

Ariana looked to Celeste expectantly who had the same calm demeanor she’d always known. Celeste looked between them and Ariana shifted uncomfortably. Too much emotion was pulling up inside of her. With her gaze finally settling on Ariana, she answered, “You have a jagged scar on your right shoulder from when you fell out of a tree. You were eight and we’d been living in New Mexico at the time.” The memory one was a fond one and she added teasingly, “You refused to sit still as I stitched you up.” Ariana nodded slowly knowing that she never shared this story with anyone else and hadn’t just been thinking about it. That meant it had to be her. “I don’t know how you’re here, but I-- Please, stay,” she practically pleaded. Celeste frowned slightly, “I don’t know if I can, but I’m here now. I know I gave you that bracelet before I… I’m sorry if the arrival was untimely. So what exactly am I interrupting here?”

Every part of Kaden wanted to believe this was his friend back talking to him, some piece of her there to comfort them both. But he continued to inch closer to Ari in case this was all a trick, something fucked up spat out by this town to mess with them. The more she talked, however, the more he felt as if that wasn’t the case. But why was she here as a ghost? And they could see her. It didn’t sit right. At all. But he had needed to talk to her so many times and likely Ariana had even more moments like that, countless most likely. If he wanted it to be real, it was hard to fathom how desperately she wanted-- no, needed this to be true. Pushing aside the appeals to logic came easier every second that passed.

“It’s-- It’s alright,” Kaden said, pushing past the wobble in his voice. “I tried. I really tried to warn you. I’m so sorry, I tried. I saw them. I should have stopped them in that bar. I could have done something and I didn’t--” The words came falling out of his mouth faster than he had a chance to evaluate them. The lump in his throat cut him off and he wiped away the stray tears with the back of his hand. “Sorry, I-- Sorry. You’re just interrupting…” What even was this? He couldn’t say. His glance caught Ariana’s. How could he explain what was going on to the ghost of his dead friend when he didn’t even know. “Ari came to bring treats for Abel. And then we, uh, talked. She had questions. For me.” He was going to leave the rest to the werewolf to explain to the ghost. “But you-- Did you not move on? I was hoping-- I mean I thought you would. Is something wrong? Why can we see you?”

It felt as if her head was spinning and Ariana didn’t feel firmly planted on the ground. More than anything, she wanted this to be real. It felt real and it made her heart feel as if it could burst out of her chest at any moment. Yet there she was, the calm in the storm that somehow sent her spiraling and grounded her all in one fell swoop. Kaden’s admission tugged at her own heartstrings. He blamed himself, too. Reeled over the details of things he could have done differently just as she had these past few months. Her own tears were falling now, though she was failing to come up with the words. All she could bring herself to say in a choked whisper was, “Please don’t go.” Her eyes were pleading and Celeste had given them both softer, comforting looks. One she’d seen so many times before. One she wanted to perfectly etch into her memory so she’d never have to live without it again.

Ariana noticed Kaden kept close to her and she wondered if he noticed something she didn’t. Everything felt so real and Celeste assured, “Everything happened too quickly. This was always going to happen one day. You shouldn’t hold onto what could have been done differently.” Somehow, hearing it from Celeste made her feel a little bit better than she had been. “She’s right,” Ariana agreed even though she knew she’d been blaming herself, too. All she knew was this definitely wasn’t Kaden’s fault. She did want to hear his questions answered though. “I don’t really know. I remember what happened, but I don’t really remember anything since. I think I was? I’m not sure why I’m here, if there’s something deeper going on within the town, but I do know it’s nice seeing you together,” Celeste explained and added, “I don’t know if anything is wrong. I feel okay, but I don’t know how long we have.”

Kaden shook his head, unable to accept what she was saying. If he had just interrupted her mother and that other hunter, made a decision, done something, maybe things would have been different. His inaction had contributed to it all, he was sure of it. That wasn’t something he was going to let go of anytime soon. No matter who told him to consider otherwise. He sniffed and brushed his face with the back of his hand. “Doesn’t matter if she’s right, I’m going to hold onto that until the day I die. You can’t stop me.” Because she wasn’t around to. Ari, maybe. But he at least had age on her as a one up. It was surreal seeing his friend again. He was so sure he never would. Only in sad dreams, mostly nightmares. That was when most of the people he lost came back to him. Only in dreams meant to remind him of the pain. Still, Kaden found himself angling in such a way that he could protect Ariana, defend her maybe. Strange. He rolled his shoulders back and stepped away, just a touch. There was still so much unexplained, unreal, but he was still sure this was somehow Celeste. A part of her, at least. Something that wouldn’t hurt them. Well, not outright at least. He hoped. Putain, all the conversations he wanted to have with her felt stupid when faced with her. He wanted to yell at her for leaving him with so many unanswered questions and no one to go to. Instead, he figured his problems, his sadness, it paled in comparison to Ari’s. “I think you mean it’s weird,” he mumbled before turning to Ari. “But go on. If there’s not much time… It’s yours.”

Kaden had quietly urged her to use her time wisely though she couldn’t quite forget the blame he was carrying when this whole thing was decidedly her fault. There had been countless moments over the last few months that she had longed for Celeste to be there. So she could seek her guidance or show her a new project she’d been working on. Now that Ariana was finally looking at her again, the only thing that seemed to matter was one. “I love you,” she said quietly with tears freely falling, “I miss you so much. All the time. I don’t know what I’m supposed to…” There were so many things she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do about. So many different problems she wanted Celeste’s help with, but if their time was short, those didn’t matter. Every part of her wanted to cling to this moment. She was afraid to blink, afraid to move. She couldn’t lose her. Not again, but the comforting hand on her arm slowed her heart a bit. She even smelled the same. The faint smell of her floral perfume swirled with the aroma of cinnamon that clung to her from her countless cups of coffee. “I think you do. You’ve never needed me to know what’s right, Ari. I wish I could stay, make things easier, but I don’t know if I can,” Celeste assured her in the same soothing tone she always used.

Ariana leaned into her touch and nodded slowly. It was hard to believe she knew what was right when she seemed to be stumbling through life these days, but she’d hold on to those words. She’d tried to remember them when things got tough. As if sensing her distress, Celeste added, “Remember, you’re never alone. Even if I’m not here, you have people looking out for you. I know Winston and Ulf would do just about anything to keep you safe and happy. Even Kaden I’m sure would help if you needed him.” She’d given him a glance as she said the last part. Ariana quickly piped in, “He has.” Somehow it felt important that Celeste knew that and he knew she knew as much. She wished she could just stay. That none of this had to end, but people didn’t just come back from the dead without some serious magic. Nell had implied and offered as much. Words seemed to be failing her in this moment, so she just took Celeste’s hand. She tried to think of happy things to share with her, but was somehow drawing a blank. As she finally thought to tell her about trade school and her job, she heard a choked sound come from Celeste. She looked up horrified. No. This couldn’t be happening. This was every nightmare she ever had playing out in front of her in Kaden’s apartment of all places. The same knife was in her chest again and the blood spilled out just as it always had. “No,” she cried out, “Please, no.” She reached out for her as if she could help, but she faded just as quickly as she appeared and the breath hitched in her throat. Her stomach churned and she was sure she was going to be sick. Her legs felt weak beneath her and she let herself fall to the ground, refusing to look away from the spot where Celeste just was.

Kaden almost felt like he should leave the room, give them a moment. But his eyes couldn't leave his friend’s face, back from the dead. And he knew first hand, if he had more time to talk to his parents… He should walk away. But his feet were firmly planted. And something about this still felt too easy to be true. Still, her voice, just hearing it, even if she wasn’t talking to him, it was almost overwhelming. He had practically forgotten what it sounded like. It was a kick in the gut to think about how quickly things faded, how fleeting memories really were. He knew. He was no stranger to loss. But every time, he stupidly thought it might be different. At the mention of him, however, he looked away, a little sheepishly, catching his friend’s glance at the end. If he had to guess, it looked something like a flash of pride, gratitude maybe. The corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smile.

It quickly dropped as soon as Celeste, or whatever was masquerading as Celeste, started to bleed out in front of them. Kaden reached out for Ariana and pulled her away. He didn’t know what was happening, but he had enough distrust in the whole thing that he wasn’t going to reach out to save his friend. She was already gone. Her sister, however? She was real. He knew that much. And he owed it to Celeste. He owed this much. Still, it was like his hands were gripping something hot after a second; he wanted to drop his grip on her and jump away. That’s what he should do, what with all the feelings of spiders crawling along his back. But he didn’t. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but keeping her safe was more important to him than whatever comfort he felt. Which was stupid but he could chide himself later. Before he could shout anything, fight anything, the vision was gone. Just as quickly as it had appeared. His hand lingered on Ari’s shoulder as she collapsed to the ground. His knees were shaking and he wondered if he was going to join her down there soon. For now, he stood there, blinking. The sight was replaying in front of him every time his eyes shut and open. “That was…” It was how she died. He knew it. “She… She looked like…” Kaden swallowed back the lump in his throat. “It wasn’t her. Ari, I’m sorry. It wasn’t-- She didn’t die again. Ari, it’s--” He didn’t even know what he was trying to say. Because it wasn’t fine. Or alright. And even if it was, he sure as shit didn’t feel fine. He opened his mouth to try and say something else but all he found was air. His hand gripped her shoulder a little tighter as he felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes again. “I’m sorry,” was all he could manage.

Ariana hoped like hell that she would just wake up and this would float away to be nothing more than a quick sting that’d be forgotten as soon as she got moving for the day. The longer she sat there on his floor, the more apparent it became she was stuck with the weighted feel in her chest that kept her glued to the floor. At least if she woke up, it’d feel distant. At least when it happened, there was someone to lash out at, but she was stuck with this feeling now. There was no outlet but heave in breaths that felt entirely too shallow. The only thing keeping her grounded was Kaden’s hand on her shoulder that surprisingly remained there. She trembled on the ground staring at the spot where Celeste stood only moments ago as if by sheer willpower, she could just reappear again. It wasn’t going to happen though and she struggled to catch her breath. Kaden’s words only barely registered in her ears with the pressure building up in her head. “That was how she,” she barely croaked out the words, but knew he could hear her anyway. Knew she didn’t need to bother finishing the sentence.

The edge of emotion was evident in his voice, too, and somehow helped guide her anguish toward anger. Ariana’s fists clenched in her lap though they still shook. Whatever had the nerve to take her sister’s form and put both of them deserved more than her rage. Her breath still continued in huffs and she finally agreed, “It wasn’t her.” But it looked so much like her. Smelled so much like her. Even her words sounded exactly like something Celeste would say and followed the same cadence. It had felt so real and had been ripped away from her again so violently. Maybe she had deserved as much. If she had only been more cautious, Celeste would still be here and nothing would be imitating her. No amount of wishing she had done things differently would change that though. So she sat there, defeated on the floor letting the tears flow freely. She’d been stupid to believe that Celeste could have really been there just like she had been stupid to believe they could just live their lives as normal in one place while the Aquillas had still hunted them. She guessed she was stuck living with both of those things now.

#wickedswriting #conversations with dead people #kaden #grief tw

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khhunniewriting · 5 years

Text

The Others (7)

[ Mafia/Gang AU ]

Kylie smiled seeing Ji-hoon walk up the driveway. It had been a while now since he moved out to live with Dok2. She decided to give him his space and allow him to do what he thought was best.

Her intentions for him had always been the same. He was to be a leader. How could she expect him to be a good leader if she did not allow him to grow independently? It was her belief that allowing Ji-hoon his freedom would cultivate the necessary characteristics.

Afterall, Dok2 had been the same. His parents allowed him to do as he pleased. Despite their relationship, Kylie had to admit Dok2 was an excellent role-model for Ji-hoon.

“Ji-hoon~” Kylie held her hands out in welcome.

Ji-hoon hesitated to approach her. “You know I’m only here to visit, Dad will be here for me on Sunday.”

Kylie looked over at the end of the driveway where Dok2′s car stood still. “I know...”

Dok2 could not face his wife after recent developments. He knew she wasn’t to blame for your leaving but blaming someone else was always easier. The biggest worry on his mind was the indescribable pain in his chest every time he thought of you.

If it weren’t for his pride, perhaps, he would have followed you. Instead, he let you go once again. There wasn’t much he could do if he went after you anyway.

His eyes followed Kylie and Ji-hoon as they went inside the house. One look of his wife reminded him that she had much more power than him at the moment. They both had extramarital affairs but unlike her Dok2 did not know the man his wife coveted. Kylie, on the other hand, knew about you.

Dok2 was within his right to be rid of Jia as she was the other man’s child but he was not so heartless after all. He allowed Kylie to keep her, in turn he distanced himself. Their partnership was becoming more and more strained as the years passed.

He drove off towards the Illionarie building with some dangerous thoughts.

\\\

Hoody groaned at the end of the day as she stepped into Jay’s office. Her hands and back were aching like never before. Her usual activities within the group consisted of much less physical labor. It was hard for her to suddenly put so much effort into a job she had no business doing.

“How was work?”

“Horrible,” she sighed. “I’m not meant for the nine to five life of honest hard work but I managed to convince her with some sob story about me being a single mom. She ate it up and now I’ve spent weeks learning how to do a job I have no interest in.”

“It’s for the good of the group,” Jay reminded her.

Hoody nodded in agreement. Thanks to Jay being back she no longer had to subject herself to earning money in degenerate ways. Under his direction, they were all doing much better.

“I will do my best boss.”

“I know.”

Jay and Hoody discussed everything that happened during her time with you. From the professional side down to the small talk in between. Hoody didn’t forget to mention you had brought your son along. However, she didn’t see him much as you left him to get his usual treatment with one of the spa’s best, an ex-sports physical therapist.

“I didn’t get a close look at him but he was there. I didn’t ask her about the kid but I heard the other women say he regularly visits around his game schedule. Apparently, he’s into basketball.”

“Really?” Jay also happened to love the sport. "I can work with that.”

Hoody’s head tilted, “What do you mean boss?”

As a collective AOMG’s current goal was to kidnap Leo, expose his existence to Dok2, and demand a huge sum of money from the Illionaire leader. However, Jay had another plan of his own that would quench a personal grudge he had for his rival.

“Don’t worry about it, just focus on your task and get me all the information you can on Y/N.”

“You can count on me.”

Hoody took her role in the plan very seriously. Everyone was counting on her to get them another step closer to economic freedom. As it was now, they were still recovering the assets that were lost or stolen when Jay was imprisoned. Every day it was a struggle to hang on to the reputation they had built but thanks to their loyalty it seemed they would soon be repaid.

She went to work earlier than asked to monitor your transportation methods. You always seemed to appear from the same direction prompting her to look for you there. It is how she managed to find out you used public transportation.

“Good morning Y/N.”

“Good morning Hyun-jung, you’re always here so early.” As the manager, it was your duty to open and start up all the systems that kept the place going. She was a professional in your eyes, always there waiting for your arrival. She had shown real initiative. “I don’t know how you manage with your baby daughter.”

Hoody did her best to act the part. It was easy with an imaginary daughter, she could make her out to be any way she wanted. “I’m lucky to have such a well-behaved baby.”

Hoody’s cover story as a single mother with an infant daughter earned her your sympathy and understanding. It was preferable for her to get close to you faster. She found it convenient to bring up your son if she offered information about her own supposed child.

“I remember when my son was a baby, he hardly gave me any trouble but he was constantly attached to me. I could hardly put him down without him instantly crying. I walked around the apartment with him strapped to my chest.”

“Is he still attached to you?”

You hummed wondering how to respond. “Leo is very independent but the bond between a single parent and their child is arguably stronger. He’s all I have and I think he knows that very well. Even now as a teenager he doesn’t push me away like I’ve heard teenagers tend to do.”

Hoody smiled, mentally taking note of every detail for later.

\\\

School continued to be boring for Ji-hoon when class was in session. Perhaps his aggression on the court had been resolved now that he had managed to make some friends but he was still disrupting lectures with his jokes or deciding not to participate.

“Lee Ji-hoon stand outside for the remainder of the class.”

Ji-hoon sighed relieved to be given what he wanted. Cjamm gave him a knowing look. By now he had learned of Ji-hoon’s intolerance for unnecessary work. He knew he never did any classwork or homework. Yet when they received their graded tests back Ji-hoon was always number one in the class.

After school, during practice, Cjamm told Leo and Bewhy all about Ji-hoon’s ordeal. Bewhy didn’t know what to make of it.

“I want to skip class too,” Cjamm muttered.

They were in the middle of a five on five game amongst teammates. With his usual starting lineup friends and the additional upperclassman who joined them to fulfill requirements, it was easy to play and talk. They were against other guys on the team that hardly got to play any real games.

“Why don’t you?” Ji-hoon passed the ball to him acting as if it was no big deal. For someone as naturally smart as Ji-hoon, it never dawned on him that all the repetition of lessons were crucial to the learning process of average students. He only needed to be told once how to solve a problem or learn a concept. He had a good memory as well so reading was enough for him to remember dates and names.

“We’re not all freakin’ geniuses like you!” Cjamm ran pas the blocker in front of him and shot the ball into the basket scoring two points for them.

Bewhy panted hardly able to keep up with the plays Cjamm and Ji-hoon were making during their heated conversation.

Cjamm was so frustrated he even yelled at Leo who had been minding his own business. “And you too!”

Leo’s head tilted unsure why he was getting yelled at.

“Why don’t you tutor me anymore?”

Leo inhaled and exhaled loudly to make a point. It was tiresome to teach Cjamm. He hardly sat still or took an interest in studying. He walked away before he could be questioned further.

“Hey come back here I’m not finished with you.”

Bewhy watched Ji-hoon carefully. “Something on your mind?”

“I just realized I understood Leo.” His wide eyes turned towards Bewhy. “He didn’t say anything just now but I think I understood what he meant and all he did was breathe.”

The last words were said with such contempt Bewhy had a good laugh. His new friend was incredibly amusing, arguably as amusing as Leo. “Congratulations, you have officially learned the language of Lee Leo.”

Just like that Ji-hoon began realizing Leo’s nodding, glances, sighs, glares... they were all different. Even if he never spoke a word to him Ji-hoon felt there was much more to Leo than he initially thought.

After practice, the four walked to the gate like usual with the childhood friends being the first to say goodbye.

Leo noticed Ji-hoon’s car wasn’t in its usual place. He hesitated to ask what was going on but the fact that he hadn’t immediately turned to leave was enough for Ji-hoon to speak up.

“Must be running late, you can go you know.” The once unruly kid searched the depths of his school bag for a small box. When he found it he realized it was empty. “Damn!”

He tossed the empty carton of cigarettes to the side.

Leo picked it up and handed it back to him with a hardened expression. His eyes bore into Ji-hoon’s scolding him without words.

“Are you pissed about the littering or the cigs?” Leo silently left leaving Ji-hoon to believe it was both. That kid needs to loosen up. “It’s not that bad you know,” he shouted in hopes he would hear him.

He did but he simply waved goodbye with his back still facing Ji-hoon.

“See ya-” Ji-hoon stood up straight when his eye caught sight of someone across the street.

It was a well-dressed man with sunglasses. The sun was setting making them nearly unnecessary unless they were meant to obstruct more than just the sun. His background made Ji-hoon suspicious of things others would dismiss as coincidence. He might have done that with this occurrence if the man didn’t suddenly take off.

The next day Ji-hoon’s car was waiting for him giving no time for him to search for the suspicious character.

“See ya-” Ji-hoon waved over his shoulder to the trio. Receiving a reply only from the duo that walked together.

It wasn’t until later in the week when practice ran late that Ji-hoon saw him again. He played it off well but Ji-hoon could tell under those glasses he had met eyes with him. A single glance in his direction gave him away.

Bewhy and Cjamm came up from behind unaware of the situation. “You rushed for nothing man, your ride ain’t even here.”

“Guess not-” Ji-hoon turned his attention towards them for only a second but that’s all it took for him to lose sight of him. Shit. “Where’s Leo?” Ji-hoon wondered when he saw the quiet kid wasn’t with them.

Bewhy turned around to see Leo hadn’t followed them. "Where is he?”

“He was right behind us a moment ago...”

“Hey Ji-hoon~” A group of girls walked past the three of them. They had been at the practice, watching and cheering them on. Lately, it seemed they were getting much more attention from the female population.

“Hey,” Ji-hoon returned the greeting sending the girls into a fit of giggles.

Cjamm recalled Leo walking behind them after they were momentarily stopped by the same group. “Maybe he got caught up.”

Bewhy looked back with worry. He knew Leo wasn’t one to deviate without saying something, not that he had to. “I’m going to go look for him.”

“I’ll go, my ride’s not here anyway.”

Bewhy reluctantly left it up to Ji-hoon. “Alright then, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Leo calmly starred down the girl who pulled him away from his friends and to the back of the main building. There was no one around but the two of them.

“You always ignore me when I’m with my friends~”

Ji-hoon turned when he heard a hushed voice. The area around the buildings was relatively dark at this hour making it hard for him to make out much. He did, however, see two silhouettes. One was tall and motionless while the smaller one seemed to push up against him.

“So I thought if we were alone you might finally talk to me, Oppa.”

Leo sighed, he was being bothered once again despite his best efforts to politely decline the unwanted attention.

“There’s no need to be shy~” She held his hand in hers making Leo look at her. “I love you Oppa.”

Leo was never one to be rude or violent towards women. His mother had taught him well. All he wanted was to escape these kinds of situations without trouble. His lips parted ready to reject her once more.

“I-”

“Aren’t you too desperate Yu Naeun?” Ji-hoon came to Leo’s rescue. “Perhaps he’s too soft-spoken so I’ll help get the message across. HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU.” Every word was heavily pronounced in Ji-hoon’s practiced delinquent persona. The one he often used to hide his vulnerabilities. It often got others to back off, he hoped it would work on this girl.

Leo never expected this. He watched Ji-hoon and Nauen exchange words without really taking in the content until he saw her slap his former rival.

“You’re the worst Lee Ji-hoon!” She stomped off not once looking back.

Ji-hoon smirked, “You owe me one.” Leo gave him a pointed look that he accurately interpreted as I never asked for your help. He ignored the look and walked back to the gate with him. “You really need to speak up more. What would you have done if she attacked you?”

Leo rolled his eyes ignoring the fact that Ji-hoon thought he wasn’t capable of defending himself.

“You gotta be more aware of your surroundings, alright.” With that, the two parted ways, Ji-hoon getting into the car that awaited him and Leo walking in his usual direction home.

For a moment Leo hesitated to turn into the smaller street where his apartment building was. Once again he had that strange feeling that someone was watching him. He turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder.

Years of his childhood were spent in a Taekwondo dojang. If someone really were to pose a threat to him then he wouldn’t hesitate to use what he’d learned.

“Leo, what are you doing out so late?”

The teenage boy turned back to his original destination to see his neighbor and her boyfriend. They were walking hand-in-hand most likely just coming home like he was.

He decided to ignore the feeling for now since they were waiting for him. Haru and Kai watched him with worry probably wondering why he had just been standing around in the dimly lit streets so late in the evening. Luckily Leo didn’t have to say much.

Kai noted Leo had his sports bag hanging from one shoulder. “Were you at practice until now?”

Leo nodded following the couple inside the building.

Minsik couldn’t help but smirk as he came out of hiding. He had been only a few steps behind Leo before hiding behind the nearest building. “That kid-” Minsik couldn’t help but think Leo was hiding something.

He went back to AOMG after missing his chance.

“I almost had him!”

Hoody sat up eyeing the younger male. “What do you mean?”

“The kid the boss is so interested in.” Minsik fell back into the semi-comfortable leather couch boasting of his recent whereabouts. He was of a merc clan within AOMG named Higher. “I've been keeping an eye on him.”

“You better not screw this up Minsik!” Hoody knew Minsik was the only one bold enough to go against Jay. If he saw an opening he would take it in order to show up the Boss. It was pretty common knowledge within AOMG that Minsik had his eye on Jay’s position. “Stay out of our business.”

“Or what?” Minsik approached her slamming his hand down on the desk littered with information Hoody was going over. He invaded her personal space until his face was a mere inch from hers. “You gonna snitch on me again?”

Hoody scowled but remained silent on the subject.

Minsik leered over her. She was his superior in every way when it came to the group but he didn’t see it that way. His free hand clamped down on her neck squeezing just enough for her to struggle to breathe.

“I will never forget that its thanks to you that I was demoted.”

Hoody looked away unwilling to submit to his attempt at dominance over her.

Minsik let go once he heard approaching footsteps. He ignored Hoody’s coughs and instead went to greet those who were arriving like he didn’t just threaten his superior.

-end-

A/N: As you can see I’m very into this complex story. I’ve got many arcs in this fic but my favorite seems to be the half brothers going from rivals to teammates to friends to eventually finding out they are brothers. (Can’t wait for that!)

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yukiwrites · 5 years

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Doubts, Fears and Acceptance

Thanks for the support as always, @breeachuu! As before, i think i got carried away, heehee! I hope you like it!

Summary: Still shaken by the shock of reality Remire Village cause on him, Wolfram can’t help but feel completely out of place in Fódlan, with the only person he could call friend being the one he was scared of the most. But perhaps with understanding, he might come around and actually get along with everyone...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

Wolfram could still feel his hands stinging with how much force he used to grip his weapon.

The tingling sensation that burned the tips of his fingers as he fired magic left and right, under Byleth's command, still brought shivers down his spine. It had been three days since the incident at Remire Village, but it was still too soon.

Everything was still much too soon.

The smell of burned flesh stuck into his clothes like thick mud, refusing to be washed off no matter how many times Wolfram rinsed them. Black death, championed by an armored skull that could only be rightfully called the Reaper, brought destruction to wherever its gaze pierced.

It was only by the intervention of the Heart of Immortals that the Death Knight could be stopped, though it brought Remire Village little consolation -- its inhabitants had already been cursed with either madness or eternal solitude. The results of the inhumane experiments they were victims of would drag them down for as long as they lived, until the beyond of death.

Wolfram's stomach turned, making him unable to lie still. "Urk-" he shot himself up, covering his mouth with both hands. "No good -- if I keep thinking about it, I- I won't..." he sniffled, trying to keep his siblings' words to heart. The agony of taking a life, even if one that had been plagued by madness and anguish, was nothing like he ever thought it would be.

Truthfully, it was as though he had never taken this into consideration in the first place. The reality of war had always been something so distant to him -- something out of the stories his mother, father and siblings used to tell him as he grew up. Stories of how their continent was founded, about the millennia of history his own Mother witnessed; about the cursed future whence his elder siblings came from.

Scary bedtime stories he never truly managed to take it to heart until he had to experience it for himself; and his own experience could barely scratch the surface of the anguish and suffering Cynthia and Meliodas had to go through while they were even younger than Wolfram was at that moment.

Tears welled up the half-manakete's eyes, his shoulders shaking so badly he could barely keep his hands in place. That tiny, dark and lonely room did not help in making the boy shift his line of thought -- if there was no one there with him, he might as well simply break down.

It wasn't as though he could simply ask, either. The first person that came to mind to help him cope with these terrible, terrible feelings would be none other than Dimitri. The kind boy who first accepted Wolfie without question, wanting to simply deepen their bond as well as to help him without asking for anything in return. The selfless prince who took the brunt of his fellow House leaders' distrust simply to defend Wolfram's claims of amnesia. The fastest friend Wolfie had ever made, or so he thought.

'Crush their skulls.'

'Kill them all.'

Shivering, all Wolfram could do was wrap both arms around himself lest he broke apart, there and then.

Even after uttering these dreadful words, Dimitri wasn't seen for quite some time after the battle had been over. In truth, Wolfram hadn't seen the prince ever since then, though he did overhear Dedue and Byleth reporting Dimitri's arrival in the monastery a while later.

Wolfie was just so scared.

Everything in this world terrified him.

Rhea's constant presence; the wild, unstable power tapping against his own whenever he approached the cathedral or the audience chamber.

These horrible enemies they've been up against -- experimenting on people? Rejoicing in watching them slaughter each other? Manipulating them into infighting simply to prove a point? Wolfram's never heard of this!

And now... Dimitri. The boy Wolfram had latched onto like a newborn duckling. As the main reason for his summoning to this world, Wolfram had to stay beside Byleth, it was true. But Dimitri would, more often than not, also be there with them.

Being with one meant staying with the other, as well. They shared a bond that easily surpassed one of student and teacher: they were comrades in arms.

Would Wolfram be able to keep upholding his duty of staying with Byleth if it meant being beside Dimitri? After seeing and... and hearing him like that? He spoke as though he were possessed! And although Wolfie hadn't seen the prince since, he couldn't shake away the feeling that the darkness released that day from Dimitri's heart was only a taste of what was to come.

Could he control his unshakeable fear he felt whenever he remembered the boy he thought of as his first friend?

"This isn't good, my thoughts are spiraling." He huffed, hearing his own voice echo inside the room. Suddenly, a memory of one of his Father's stories made the half-manakete blink in surprise. "Oh, yes! I remember Father always used to tell me about how Mother took a longer time than a human did to process her feelings... and that every time she did so was during a long, uninterrupted flight."

He grabbed onto the locket he always carried with him -- hidden inside were his most prized possessions as well as his dragonstone. "I'm gonna stretch my wings. I'm sure I can clear off this fog... I kinda wanna call Aquilo to come with me, but maybe we'll attract much attention if it's the both of us." He monologued, wanting to share this conversation with someone instead of with himself. Before stepping outside, he checked his bandana just in case -- boy, was he glad he did, for the moment he set his foot out of his room, he almost bumped into Dedue. "W-whoa!"

"Careful." The large young man held Wolfie's shoulders lest he fell from the startle.

"Dedue! Are you only just returning to your room? But it's so late!"

"Yes; I have been tending to His Highness. He refuses to rest, so it is my duty to accompany him until he does so."

Wolfram flinched. "Dimitri..."

Dedue tilted his head to the side. "Is something the matter? Perhaps you should return to rest, Wolfram. As you yourself said, the hour is late."

"Um," Wolfie fidgeted, lowering his gaze. "C-can I talk to you for a bit? I was gonna stretch my wi-eeegss. My legs. I was gonna stretch my legs for a bit, but I actually wanted to talk to someone. Is now okay? I mean, I know it's late and all, but-"

"Breathe." Dedue lifted his chin as he himself took a deep breath, compelling Wolfie to follow. "If you are alright with me, then I do not mind talking, no. We should move away from the dorm, however. I do not wish to wake the Professor or a student up."

"O-of course! Thank you, Dedue. We can just stroll around 'till the greenhouse and then back? I don't wanna take much of your time."

"That is reasonable, yes, though do not concern yourself over my time or the lack of it. We shall talk until you are satisfied."

Wolfram wanted to smile at Dedue's kindness, but his heart was still much too heavy about the subject he wanted to discuss about: Dimitri, of course.

As they walked, the silence stretched on, however. Dedue raised an eyebrow. "Did you not wish to talk?"

Wolfram jumped out of his skin, fighting back the tears. "How- how are you still doing so much for Dimitri after- a-after that day?"

"I am unaware of any specific day you are referring to." Dedue's puzzled tone made Wolfram raise his teary gaze to the tall young man.

"T-that! That day, in Remire! Dimitri said- he did- he was so scary- I was-" he sobbed, quickly lowering his face. "So scared...!"

"His Highness was not different from usual. I seem to have heard a few of the other students voice such complaints, though they puzzle me: He was not different from how he had always been."

"Wh-what? How can you say that? It was like he was a completely different person! He was talking about killing with such a- such a CRUEL way! Dimitri's not like that!"

"His Highness is a kind man who would step in the middle of a volley of lances to save a complete stranger, even though his body was so much smaller than such stranger's." Dedue hardened his chin, turning his gaze to the moon. He looked at it as though it brought him fond yet bitter memories. "He is above most men I have ever met in my lifetime. His kindness knows no bounds. A bright light shines inside of his heart, and, as any light, it casts shadows inside of him, as well. He is plagued by these shadows like any other man fights with the duality within himself. However, unlike the common man, he has many a duty to perform. Many a face to wear. Dimitri is kind at heart, as he is shadowed -- but he does not allow others to approach that wound, and it festers." He looked down at Wolfie, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "I will stay by his side through anything, no matter if shadowed or bright, for what I know of him is what binds my loyalty to him. If you do not share the same belief, I will not force you to. Neither would His Highness."

Wolfram felt warm tears streaming down his face, itching the corners of his eyes. "Dedue-"

The loyalty he inspired! The caring way only someone who deeply trusts someone else would use... Truly, Dedue was a kind, soothing soul.

"I seem to have spoken too much. You were the one who wanted to talk."

Wolfram shook his head, a smile finally making its way to his lips after Naga knows how long. "Uh-huh. Thanks for saying all of that. It made me feel a bit better."

Dedue smiled fondly. "I simply spoke what I felt on the matter. It is still something you must decide on your own."

"Mhm," Wolfie nodded, drying his face with the back of his hands. "Thanks again, Dedue."

The following morning, Wolfram tiptoed through the grounds towards the training grounds. Although Dedue's words DID make him feel better, he was still too shaken to meet Dimitri head-on. Instead, he decided that he should gather intel -- to hear other people's opinion regarding Dimitri and what were their thoughts about Remire.

Of course, the first one Wolfram found at the training grounds was none other than Felix, who was always willing to hone his skills with the sword.

"You here to train?" The swordsman asked after a few mock thrusts at the training dummy. "The techniques you know are really interesting, so keep me company." He gestured his head to a wooden sword placed right beside the entrance.

"Um, I actually wanted to talk-"

"Talk with the blade in your hands!" Felix jumped, holding nothing back in trying to hit Wolfie.

"W-whoa!" The half-manakete jumped out of the way, quickly taking the sword to protect himself. "If I manage to knock you down, will you answer my questions?"

"Hah!" Felix sneered. "I won't be knocked down by you again, newcomer. I've watched your footwork closely and now you'll need to work twice as hard to even try to bring me down."

Wolfram parried an attack, immediately countering. "Fair enough... Close combat isn't my strong suit anyway." He muttered as he scooted away from Felix's range. "Then I'm just gonna straight up and ask: what do you think of Dimitri?"

Felix's stance stiffened. "You saw who he truly was back there at Remire. He's a boar who only charges ahead without thinking about the destruction around him. It's good that you saw it while you're still new: now you won't carry stupid misconceptions about how he was a completely different person in the past or some nonsense the others keep saying." He breathed out all at once, shaking his head as he stood upright. "Associating with him will only bring you pain."

Wolfram relaxed his fighting stance as well, though his shoulders were still stiff. "But... that's the complete opposite of what Dedue told me-"

"Hah! That guy's too blinded by loyalty or whatever. He's stuck on a person who died four years ago while ignoring the mindless monster that took his place. I won't be fooled by that princely mask he wears: a wild boar will be a vicious animal no matter how much it tries to hide it." He groaned. "I'm done with this, now I don't feel like training anymore." Felix threw his practice sword on the ground, walking at quick steps past Wolfie towards the exit.

"Four years ago... Did something happen?" Wolfram whispered to himself long after Felix was gone, his brain taking everything it had to process everything it had heard. "Light and shadow -- a kind man plagued by duty and darkness..."

The boy felt his shoulders finally sag.

"I gotta go talk to him."

It didn't take much guessing to find out where Dimitri would be. Wolfram simply followed Byleth's presence (even though it was still early for lessons) to find that it led straight to the blonde prince. Before he could call out to them, however, he noticed how crestfallen Dimitri looked and chose to stay quiet instead.

"Professor... I...I'm sorry you saw that side of me in the village. It must have been quite a shock to you and the others." Dimitri's voice was strangled, seeping with regret. "I'm mortified by my behavior. When I saw the chaos and violence there...my mind just went completely dark."

Wolfram gasped, quickly hiding himself. It wasn't good to eavesdrop, but...

Byleth reached out for Dimitri's hand, taking it within both of hers. "I felt the same, though I must admit that you weren't yourself." She said in a warm voice, making the tension seemingly leave the prince's body.

"I always strive to keep my emotions at bay, but... Sometimes the darkness takes hold and...it's impossible to suppress. It just shows you how lacking I am... I have much to learn." He said between shaky breaths, making Wolfram clutch his chest.

It was just as Dedue had said.

Dimitri was fighting a losing battle within himself.

Wolfie's eyes burned with tears as he hit himself mentally for even feeling afraid in the first place. Everyone has their troubles! Everyone has their deep, dark fears and secrets. Dimitri was a single young man with too much on his shoulders and it didn't feel right for Wolfie to ever doubt him like that.

It didn't feel right to listen into their conversation either, but when Wolfram was about to step out to leave, he heard Dimitri gasping loudly, as though plagued by a sudden illness.

"Ugh... Gah... My father...my stepmother... Four years ago, they lost their lives to those flames." The words were shaky, his breathing uneven. Byleth held him by his shoulders, the only support he had lest he fell on his knees. Wolfram slapped both hands over his mouth to muffle his own sobs. "I'll never forget... I still remember their faces. Their screams. The tortured last moments of every person who died that day..." As Dimitri confessed, it got increasingly harder for Wolfram to breathe, his own legs shaking.

Byleth never hesitated to give Dimitri her support. "You don't need to say this if it brings you this much pain; but if you do want to let it out, I'll always be here for you." She said softly, stealing a choked sob from the prince's throat.

Wolfram ran away as fast as he could while still keeping quiet, the urge to bawl his eyes out too much to bear. Once he ran far enough, he allowed the tears to fall, realizing he cried loudly for all who could hear, though his feet never stopped.

Only when he arrived at the stables did he stop, but only so he could throw himself into Aquilo's cot, using his friend and mount's wings as a hiding place for him and his tears.

Needless to say, Wolfram arrived late for that day's classes, though he felt completely refreshed.

He sneaked beside Dimitri, bowing a silent apology to Byleth, who was pointing at a diagram at the blackboard. "What did I miss?" He whispered almost playfully, fighting against a shy yet proud smile.

Chuckling, the prince scooted closer, lowering his head so as to whisper the contents of the class to Wolfram, pointing at his own neatly written notes.

Wolfie breathed with relief, glad that he managed to approach Dimitri so readily. Relaxing his body, he scooted closer until his shoulders touched his friend's. "I think I'm gonna need you to explain this to me later, is that okay?" He said in a low voice.

"Of course, I'll be glad to help." Dimitri smiled readily, no signs of the tears Wolfram had listened in on earlier that morning.

"Thanks," Wolfie turned to his own open notebook, "and sorry." He mumbled more to himself than to his friend, taking it upon himself to stay beside Dimitri for as long as his mission allowed him to.

Apparently, apart from the month's mission -- to investigate an abandoned chapel for missing students -- the Officer's Academy would also hold a ball. It was a tradition, it seemed, to hold these kind of festivities at that time of the year: something about it being the anniversary of the Monastery.

One couldn't neglect their training in favor of partaking in festivities, of course, but the entire atmosphere around the Monastery felt different, whether the students were focused on one matter or the other.

Even more so for Wolfram, who was still struggling to even remember everyone's names and original affiliations. As a student, he had to uphold his first and foremost duty of, well, studying. Yet, as a young man, he couldn't help but look forward to the ball. He wasn't a stranger to such events -- his family had very close ties to the rulers of Ylisse, after all, so they had attended a birthday ball more than a few times during his life -- but precisely because him and his mother weren't used to being around in large crowds, he was a tad antsy about it all.

Take now for an example: he was at the library, trying to uphold his student duty, but his mind was wandering, thinking about this or that decoration he saw being carried around by the servants. He couldn't help but wonder what everything would look like and what kind of people he was going to meet.

The more, the merrier, for sure! Though maybe not all at once so he wouldn't be overwhelmed...

A loud thud startled the boy out of his soul, making Wolfram jump on his seat. A large stack of books seemingly appeared out of nowhere, but that was just Wolfram's mind playing tricks on him: there was a small girl behind the stack, who had dropped them all in front of him and now was hidden behind its massive length.

"Um...?" Wolfie stretched his neck to the side so as to look at Lysithea in the eyes. "Are you alright, there? Those seem to be a lot for you to carry-"

"You can stop with the worrying right there -- I'm not a kid; I can take care of myself and lug my own books around, thank you." She divided the stack into two, then into three, placing them in order of subject. "Besides, the reason I came here was to talk about you, Wolfram."

Blinking, the boy tilted his head to the side. "About me? Oh! Are you gonna help me decipher this exercise? How did you know I was stuck?"

"What? No! I didn't." She frowned, making a sour face. "Though I can help you out, of course; but after I say my piece."

"Oh, okay, I can listen." Wolfie pushed his notebook to the side, resting both elbows ont he table to as to give Lysithea his undivided attention.

The girl narrowed her eyes. "Was your hair always that color? I'm not trying to pry or anything, but I must know about, well, your Crest. Or Crests." She whispered the last word as though it meant something terribly big.

Of course Wolfie knew what Crests were since they've been a constant topic of discussion during classes. But apart from Hanneman being utterly disappointed at finding out Wolfram bore none during his very first week there, the boy considered that topic as good as dead when it concerned himself.

Increasingly confused about the connection Lysithea made with his hair color and Crests -- or lack thereof -- Wolfram frowned so deeply it made the girl gasp.

"If it's too painful, you don't need to answer. I don't know how much you remember or if your lack of memory is actually a result of it, but..."

"Wait, wait; you're saying you think you know the reason for my amnesia?"

"Well, I theorized something, yes, but I can't say anything for sure without talking to you first, can I? So here I am. You could tell me everything or nothing; I'll only pry for a long as you let me. I wouldn't want people to ask me about this kind of stuff, either."

Now he felt plain bad for deceiving everyone like this. There was no amnesia to diagnose! "Oh, um- I guess first I gotta say that I was born like this. I think. I'm pretty sure."

"Huhh..." Lysithea crossed her arms, leaning her back on the chair.

"And that I also don't have any Crest. Or Crests." He said in his usual tone, which made the girl jump on her seat to shove her index in front of his lips.

"Shush! Don't say that so loud!"

"Uh? Crests?"

"Ugh, yes. Anyway, what do you mean you don't have a Crest? You can't possibly-"

"You can ask Professor Hanneman about it? He practically dragged me to take the Crest test almost as soon as I arrived."

"And it came back negative?" She threw herself over the chair again, her frown deep. She messed with a tuft of her white hair, comparing it with Wolfram's. "It can't be... But even Edelgard..." She mumbled, surely not for Wolfram to hear, though he heard it anyway due to his sensitive ears.

"We cannn go check right now if you want." He said tentatively with a hint of doubt. "We're close to Professor Hanneman's office anyway-"

"No, I- well, that's tempting- but... no, I'm sorry about all of this. I'm just going to focus on my books for now, okay? Show me the thing you had trouble with earlier so I can explain it to you now."

"O-okay..." Confused but now about to try to understand, Wolfram counted his blessings, considering he wouldn't need to lie more to cover for his failure at appearing amnesic.

As the day of the ball approached, so did the Blue Lions' collective interest in their representative for the White Heron's Cup: Dorothea. Since she was originally from another House, her appointment to represent the Blue Lions brought a little discord amongst the students, though the judges didn't seem to mind it: Dorothea was a Blue Lions student at that moment, so that was what mattered.

More and more students could be seen practicing their dancing steps throughout the academy as opposed to combat training.

Of course, combat was never neglected, but the rapid growth of dancing youths taping their toes all around the monastery was staggering.

One particular evening, after the lecture was over, some students gathered around to talk. Mostly the ones originally from the Blue Lions, though Raphael, Caspar, Dorothea and Ignatz also mingled with them.

Mercedes, Annette and Dorothea huddled beside Ingrid, allowing the girl no escape from their plans of doing a make-over for her on the day of the ball. Raphael and Caspar agreed that the most they were looking forward to would be the yummy food there, exchanging a very heated fist bump to seal that moment.

Ashe and Ignatz fidgeted on their toes. "I'm kinda nervous about it," Ashe confessed. "I don't know about this noble kind of dance -- the only dance I know is the one from the common folk, but I'm sure I can't use that there, can I?"

"I confess I'm not confident on my footwork, either..." Ignatz agreed, adjusting his glasses.

"Oh." Wolfram blinked. "Oh yeah. I don't know anything about ballroom dancing. I'm pretty sure I've never done it before in my life, especially after seeing so many people practicing all over the place."

"Oh, well, I can teach you all how to dance!" Annette puffed her chest cheerfully. "I love dancing!"

"Oh, that would be wonderful-" Wolfram and Ignatz started at the same time, but Caspar intervened.

"But then what about on the day itself? You're not gonna dance with all three of them, are you?" He crossed his arms. Annette let out an exclamation of surprise.

"Well, I don't see how I couldn't change partners..."

"No way; and what're the other two gonna do while you're with one of them? Isn't it better to just invite one already? Here, I'll keep Wolf, you can choose between the other two."

"Huh- weh?" Wolfram looked at them as though watching a sports match, suddenly pointing to his own face. "You're inviting me to the ball?"

"Sure, why not? We gotta get to know each other better anyway since we're classmates, and seeing as neither of us knows how to dance very well -- though my dad tried to have that beaten down on me for a long time -- I'd say we make a great pair, hah!" Caspar threw his head back in laughter, proud of coming to that conclusion by himself.

Surprised and flattered, Wolfie smiled widely. "Okay, we can do that, yeah! Thanks for inviting me, Caspar!" He grinned, receiving another one in return.

"You're welcome! Thanks, too!"

"You can always come to the lessons, too, Caspar..." Annette jabbed, smirking.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I have two left feet and I made peace with that already. But if you think Wolf here isn't a lost cause, you gotta teach him so at least he's the two right feet one! That way we'll match!"

"Huh? But wouldn't having two right feet be as bad as having two left ones?" Raphael scratched his chin in thought.

"Whatever!!" Caspar threw his hands in the air, laughing loudly. His contagious laughter soon set the rest of the group off.

"You know... There's no telling where life will take us after we leave here. If only we could find a way to come together again, just like this..." Dimitri said after the mirth had dissolved into smaller giggles, enjoying the pure warmth being around these friends made him feel.

Dedue smiled, bobbing his head to the sides. "A fine notion, Your Highness. Perhaps five years from now?"

"Five years from now?" Dimitri mused at the idea for a moment before remembering something. "Ah! That's when Garreg Mach Monastery will be holding the millennium festival."

Wolfram had heard about this festival -- it was supposed to be the day Garreg Mach Monastery would complete one thousand years. Surely a party to remember!

Oh, how exciting! And it would be within the time he had agreed to stay, too! Wolfram couldn't help but wonder how his and his classmates' lives would change in these five years...

Well, surely not as much as his own life did the day he stepped into Fódlan, right?

Surely!

True to her word, Annette did give Wolfie, Ashe and Ignatz a few pointers regarding ballroom dancing, which made all three of them feel less nervous about the notion of it all. That only added to Wolfram's workload, but that didn't bother him in the slightest -- in fact, it excited him. He did nothing but learn ever since he arrived, so he was looking forward to every new interaction if only to help him grow as a person.

The day of the ball, although the students still wore their uniforms to attend, the atmosphere felt different -- as well as did the girls. They dolled themselves up to shine in the ballroom while most of the boys wore a wide variety of hats, as though they were peacocks trying to attract the right one for them.

Wolfram was amazed at the craziness of some of the hats (one was just 15 hats stacked together in a very shaky tower) so much so that he bumped on his partner before realizing he was there since Wolfie had been looking up instead of down to Caspar's short stature.

"Oh! There you are!" They said in unison, grinning. "Ready to hit the floor?" Caspar took Wolfie's hand, already pulling him to the center without waiting for confirmation.

"W-whoa, wait!" Wolfie tripped on the polished floor, though Caspar's strong grip on him didn't let him fall. "I suddenly forgot everything Annette taught!" He said in a panicked voice.

Caspar threw his head back in laughter. "Then it's my two left feet against yours! Let's see who wins!" He put a strong arm behind Wolfie's lower back, clearly taking the leading stance.

"You're leading? But I'm taller-"

"You're the one who said you don't know nothing! Let's just dance, alright? Here we GOOO!" He yelled atop of his lungs, deafening out the ambient music as he started spinning the both of them around as though they were a pair of whipping tops.

"W-wahhH!" Wolfram yelped before full-blown screaming, dissolving into a loud laughter. They bumped into couples here and there, but ultimately only came to a stop after slamming into a nearby wall.

Which led them into being expelled from the ballroom for the entire duration of the dance in less than ten minutes.

"HAHHH, THAT WAS FUN!" Caspar gurgled a laugh as they were being escorted out, nibbling on a salty treat he had taken on their way out.

"Hahaha!" Wolfie dried one tear from laughing so much, his abdomen hurting. "I can't believe we got kicked out! What're gonna do all evening?"

"Let's just kick around and do something! We can ask Raphael to smuggle some food out of the party for us or something. Ohhh, we can explore the monastery!"

Wolfram already knew most of the Academy by heart since he stretched his wings every other night, making sure to fly really high so no one would spot him. But seeing from the sky was MUCH different than exploring by foot.

"I love exploring! Let's go!" He pulled Caspar by the hand, being eagerly followed.

If his new friend weren't so loud, they would've managed to sneak around most of the monastery unnoticed -- even as Caspar tried to muffle his own laughter he let out a loud pig-like noise, which only set Wolfie off as well.

Needless to say, they were expelled out of the Faculty Office as well as the Goddess Tower in a single night -- Seteth had them 'marked for dead', his own words. Being with Caspar might be a 'bad influence' for Wolfie, but he was too busy having fun to care. He was such an interesting guy to hang out with, Wolfram couldn't wait to spend more time with him!

After the eventful ball -- from Raphael eating contest, Caspar and Wolfie's antics as well as Dorothea's absolute KILLING it at the White Heron Cup -- the Blue Lions House was the talk of the entire week throughout the campus, for better or for worse.

Their expedition to the abandoned chapel was scheduled to happen sometime in the next following days, though that didn't stop Wolfram from surveying it from the sky at night as he had been doing for the past few weeks.

A dreadful presence itched at the corners of his consciousness, making him shiver despite being quite used to the growing cold weather. He saw shadows of people walking in and out of the chapel, but the most worrying part wasn't the people -- it was the large scaled beings whose tails swished in the dark.

They didn't feel like shape shifters, though. Giant lizards? Ah! Perhaps the Demonic Beasts he sometimes heard of during classes? "Oh, no! Those people are in danger!" He gasped midair, quickly turning around to return to the monastery. "Byleth- Professor Byleth’s gotta know about this!" He dived deeply, cutting the air.

Although it was the middle of the night, the alarm of Wolfram's report (he covered the part about him being flying in the middle of the night as an excuse to let his wyvern 'stretch his wings') made most of the Knights of Seiros on duty to step up into positions. Byleth had Wolfie wake Dimitri and Dedue up so they would get the rest of the class, though they would only be deployed once dawn broke, a few hours from then.

That gave them the time they needed to prepare and gear up. Wolfram could feel his hands shaking as he readied his weapons, though he felt much better knowing that the enemy this time around wouldn't be people, but monsters.

Although he could still understand what they said, it was much less difficult to fell a monster than to do the same to a person.

Clutching his locket, Wolfram threw a light prayer to Naga before departing, following the rest of his class from the sky, on Aquilo's back.

With the sunlight, the picture became much clearer once they arrived at the chapel -- the shadows of people he had seen were students being pursued by the demonic beasts.

Once again they had to rescue people from being killed, but this time not by their fellow men, which was a relief. Fighting these beasts was scary, yes, but not as nearly as being under the overwhelming pressure of the Archbishop.

These beasts had nothing on Rhea, whose power could easily topple over their own with the simple lift of her tail, or at least so believed Wolfram. The battle was still hard-fought, however, since they were hardy monsters -- their scales were rough as were their defenses.

But fall they did, one by one.

The students were rescued as quickly as possible -- Byleth made use of Wolfram's wyvern to make him fly throughout the map so as to pick the students up while the rest of the students drew the beasts' attention. A truly splendid work of action from their Professor's part if Wolfram could be so bold.

Yet, something unexpected and unprecedented happened right before Wolfram's eyes as he was about to reach for the last student, a bright redhead girl who had been hiding behind Jeralt for the past minutes.

It happened so fast Wolfram had barely any time to react.

One minute Jeralt was there, patting the girl's head, saying that everything was going to be okay.

On the next one, he was falling on the ground, a dagger stabbed so deeply on his back one couldn't even see the blade anymore.

By the time Wolfram processed what was happening -- death, death again! Death again! -- a crazed scream came from behind as Byleth activated the Sword of the Creator to reach Monica from afar, to no avail.

She simply disappeared into a smokescreen, under the protection of a powerful mage.

Wolfie was so devoid of action it made Aquilo land on the ground so as to stretch his neck backwards to check on him.

What... had just happened?

#fire emblem three houses #fe 3h #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth #dimitri fire emblem #dedue #my writings #fodlansona #yuki's commissions

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originalhybridloverfics · 5 years

Text

A New Beginning to a Better Life

A/N: Okay, so this might be the last installment to this one so I hope you like it.

Mistakes are my own.

Oliver knocked on Diggle’s door at exactly 7 PM. He had told Diggle he and Felicity would be there but that was before realizing how much the other man had let his wife down. He could have canceled over the phone but he had a few things he wanted to say to his old friend and the former members of his team that he knew would be here tonight.

“Oliver.” Diggle greeted when he opened the door, he looked past Oliver in confusion. “Where’s Felicity?” “She’s not coming and I’m not staying.” Oliver pushed past Diggle into his home and found the others waiting in the living room, they moved toward him to welcome him back but he put his hand up to stop them from taking another step. “Don’t!” his voice was sharp as if was wearing the hood and he was speaking to an enemy. “Oliver, what’s wrong?” Diggle asked as Lyla walked in from the kitchen with a concerned but guarded look. Oliver ignored her his eyes settling on Digg, Rene, Curtis, and Dinah. “When I turned myself in 7 months ago it was with the belief that all of you would look after my wife and son. My family.”

“We did,” Diggle said. “We were there when Diaz found her.” “And we’ve been right here with her,” Dinah added. Oliver glared at her. “No, you haven’t. She came to all of you for help and you turned her away.” “We didn’t want to encourage her obsession with Diaz,” Curtis argued. “Hey, I helped her.” Rene protested. “Giving her a place to sleep and capturing someone for her is not helping.” Oliver glared. Rene put his hands up at the dark look Oliver shot at him and took a step back as if to ward the other man off. “You abandoned her and turned your backs on her, she had to face Diaz on her own after losing everything. She turned to Laurel and Anatoly because she couldn’t count on any one of you. She put herself in danger because you just wanted her to move on and forget everything Diaz did so all of you can go on with your lives while she and my son suffered.” The more Oliver spoke the more angry he sounded. “She made her choice, Oliver.” John cut in. “I warned her of the path she was going down and she didn’t listen to a word I said.” “No, you wanted her out of your way.” Oliver threw back at him. “You didn’t want her interfering in this life you created for yourself within Argus. Tell me, John, when did you change? The man I knew questioned everything about Argus and hated working for them.” “Oliver, I think that is enough.” Lyla stepped forward. “No, it’s not, Lyla. The truth is just hard to hear.” his eyes never John Diggle. “There was a time where you would have done anything for Felicity. I remember a man, a brother, who sat at her apartment all night because he was worried she was going to be a psychopath with a vendetta against me next victim and now you can’t even be bothered to be a friend to her.” A look of hurt flickered across Digg’s face. “It’s not like that.” “Yeah, it is. What if the roles were reversed and it was your family that was in danger? What I left them to fend for themselves?” Diggle fell silent, frowning deeply. Oliver nodded in disappointment. “All of you are done treating Felicity like she doesn’t matter, like my family is an inconvenience. Until yo miraculously remember what it is to be a real friend, to care about someone other than yourselves you are going to stay away from me, from my wife. If this is how you show you’re loyalty after everything then I want absolutely nothing to do with any of you.” Oliver sent each of them a dismissive look and quickly headed out, he was two steps out of the house when he heard Diggle coming after him. “Oliver, man, wait.” Diggle stood in his open doorway. Oliver half turned, waiting expectantly for whatever he had to say. “I drop the ball on this I realize that and I,” Diggle shook his head. “I’m sorry.” “You didn’t drop the ball, you never even had it.” Oliver turned, walking away not looking back. He had a wife and son at home who was waiting on him and who were far more important than this bullshit.

Felicity awoke to the feel of soft lips against her shoulder, a sound of contentment leaving her lips. She felt Oliver smile against her skin before she turned over facing him. “Good morning.” “Good morning,” Oliver leaned forward his lips just grazing hers. Felicity pulled back before he could kiss her and a frown pulled at his lips. “What’s wrong?” “I have morning breath.” Felicity protested. Oliver laughed, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her against his body. “I don’t care.” he pressed his mouth to hers kissing her good morning. A kiss that was dragging and full of longing. “Mmm, I’ve missed your intense kisses,” Felicity said, pulling away from him, her nails scratching along his stubble that had grown back. It was just the right length, not too clean shaven and not like before when he had that rodent on his face right after he got out of prison. “Intense?” Oliver repeated, cupping her cheek, gently, smiling softly as she leaned into it. “Yes, intense, everything about you is intense but it works for you,” Felicity informed him a smile tugging at her mouth as she leaned forward and peck his lips. “Well as long as it works for me,” he said, brushing his thumb across her cheek. Felicity leaned forward brushing her mouth against his. Oliver had been out of jail for a couple weeks, and William was going to be coming home for Christmas break in just a few days. She was looking forward to spending time with both her boys. Oliver kissed her back, his hand tangling in her hair, only breaking apart when her phone chimed with an email notification. Felicity reached for her phone, quickly checking the email before tossing it down beside her and turning back to Oliver her hand smoothing down his chest. “What was that?” Oliver wondered, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. “Just a potential investor.” Felicity had been spending her time creating security tech and so far things were going great and it was something she was doing on her own. She was slowly creating something, a legacy for herself and for their family. The lines of Oliver’s face deepened, his brow furrowing. “What’s that look for?” Felicity wondered. “I know you’ve been working hard at this but I was wondering if you have to do it here?” Oliver asked. Felicity tilted head to the side at him. “What do you mean here? You mean like in 'Starling City'?” “Yes.” Oliver nodded. “No. It doesn’t have to be here. I mean, we live here so..” Felicity trailed off. “What if we didn’t? Live here I mean.” Said Oliver. “What if we were living in Ivy Town?” “You want to move back to Ivy Town?” Felicity asked in surprise. “I do but I think it’s a decision we should make together. If it’s not something you want I understand.” “I didn’t say I didn't want it," Felicity clarified. "I am just wondering why now? What about the city?” “Why now?" Oliver repeated. "I finally have my freedom and I don’t want anyone or anything getting in the way of our family finally being happy and safe. It doesn’t have to be Ivy Town but I think a fresh start for our family could be good for us.” Oliver explained, his hand smoothing down her arm. “We have given to this city, again and again, making sacrifices after sacrifices and for what? It’s true I didn’t get into this for the glory or the thank you’s. I wanted to help the people of my city but everyone in it including our friends have turned their backs on me, on us so why are we still fighting for them? I'm tired of sacrificing what we have, haven’t we given enough? I just want to be somewhere with you and William where we can be happy.” Felicity's eyes grew wet, feeling emotional by his speech. “I want that too.” “Yeah?” Oliver asked with so much hope, Felicity’s chest tightened. “Yes, let’s do it. After the Holidays, let’s get out of here, you, me and William. We can build a new life just for the three of us.” Felicity could see it. She wouldn’t have to worry about her husband being taken from her, about anyone coming after their son or her. They could finally be happy. “Let’s move back to Ivy Town.” Oliver broke out into a wide smile that lit up his entire face. “God, I love you so much.” he leaned into her, pressing her back into the mattress, his body covering her as he settled between her legs. Felicity smiled up at him. “Show me how much.” she leaned up, her lips skimming his jaw, dragging across his skin to just beneath his ear. “Make love to me.” Oliver pulled back, locking eyes with her, his hand traveled up her arms, lacing their fingers together and press their clasp hands into the mattress, he pulled his hip back with perfect ease, aligning their bodies and pushed forward, sliding inside her warmth, his breath left him, she was so wet and tight and perfect. Felicity's mouth opened on a silent gasp but her eyes never left his, her fingernails digging into the back of his hand at how good it felt to have him filling her so completely, their hips flushed, she locked her legs around him as he started to thrust slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, their lips brushing with every push, every thrust. It was intense and beautiful and everything they needed. Oliver and Felicity got lost in the act of expressing their love in the most intimate way possible.

William walked into the kitchen the smell of bacon and eggs leading him. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he saw his dad and Felicity kissing slowly by the counter. That wasn't something any kid wanted to see. He deliberately made noise as he set his school bag on the counter with a thunk. Felicity pulled away from Oliver and smiled at Willaim. “Morning William.” “Good morning, what’s for breakfast?” “Well, I made you a ham and cheese omellett, bacon, toast and sausage.” Oliver set a plate in front of William. “I figured you could do with a big meal for the day since it will be your first game of the season.” William smiled glad that his dad had remembered without him needing to remind him. Since moving to Ivy town Felicity and Oliver had been busy with their business ventures. Felicity was working on her start-up company, Smoak Tech and his dad had started a gym for self-defense classes and fitness but they always made time for him. They ate dinner together every night like a family, they had Saturday movie nights, he and his dad had started watching sports games and tossing the ball together and Felicity always had time to help him with his homework or when he wanted to run a science project idea by her, she was even teaching him computers. Honestly, it was the happiest he has been since he lost his mother. And for once it didn’t feel like he was in danger or it would be ripped away from him. He had made friends since moving here with his dad and Felicity, he was at a new school and it was going really well, he liked his classes and what he was learning. He joined the debate team and the baseball team. Things were really going well and he didn’t plan on taking anything for granted because from his experiences you should appreciate what you have, what you love while you still have it cause you never know when it’ll all change. Unfortunately, that was something he was familiar with. “I thought you may have forgotten,” William admitted, ducking his head down. “Of course, we didn’t forget,” Oliver assured his son, taking a seat next to him. “Felicity and I will be there.” “Yeah, we wouldn’t miss it,” Felicity took a sip of her coffee and made a face. “What’s wrong?” William asked, fighting back a laugh at the way her face scrunched up. “Nothing, the coffee just taste different.” she set the coffee on the table. “I feel I should warn you though I know nothing about baseball however it won’t stop me from cheering you on.” William smiled at that picking up his fork. “Thanks, Felicity.” Oliver reached across the counter, reaching for Felicity’s hand and smiled at her with adoration.

Oliver was so used to hearing Felicity's loud voice when she was angry with him that it was honestly refreshing to hear it and not be in trouble with her for once. “C’mon, William, you got this!” Felicity shouted down to the field. “You’re doing great!” William hearing Felicity cheering loudly than any other mother there ducked his head in mild embarrassment. Oliver wrapped his arm around his wife, tugging her into his side. “I never thought you'd be so enthusiastic about a sport’s game.” “It’s not just any sports game, it’s Willaim’s first game,” Felicity said, her voice full of a passion he always heard when she gave him one of her pep talks. “You better believe I’m gonna be that mom everyone’s looking at because she’s loud and she believes her son has the best to offer.” Oliver smiled, pressing a kiss to her hair his arm tightening around her. When he was in prison on the rare occasion he didn’t have a nightmare about Diaz finding, attacking and killing his family, he dreamed of this. He dreamed of getting to experience these small moments with his family. Of being happy. It was living moments like these that made him really believe that leaving Starling behind and starting fresh with his family was the second best decision he ever made. The first being getting the amazing woman next to him to become his wife. Oliver smiled, deciding to take a page out of Felicity's book and began to cheer loudly for his son, shouting words of encouragement much to his son’s embarrassment.

Felicity smiled at William as he explained how he was really starting to enjoy his computer classes as much as his science ones. “Do you think you could teach me some stuff.” William wondered, sitting at the counter reading one of his favorite books. “I mean, I don’t know anyone better at computers than you.” Felicity beamed at William. “I would love to,” It honestly warmed her heart that he was taking an interest in computers and was coming to her to learn more. “Great.” William smiled. “Maybe when you’re not busy with your startup, we could get started.” “How about tomorrow after school?" Felicity suggested. "I know you don’t have anything with the debate team or baseball practice tomorrow.” William grinned. “That sounds good, thanks, Felicity.” Felicity placed her hand on his shoulder. “You never have to thank me, Will. I love helping you and spending time with you, now you’re dad’s running a little late with the gym so I thought tonight we could order pizza or Chinese? What do you think?” “I think dad has mentioned more than once that he wished we’d eat more healthy,” said William. “If your dad had his way we would never eat out again and that would be a terrible shame I cannot live with.” Said Felicity dramatically, making William laugh. “Laugh now mister but just you wait he’ll be moderating everything we eat if we don’t rebel now. So pizza or Chinese?” “Pizza. Definitely pizza.” William answered. “Hey, do you think we can have some ice cream afterward? We don’t even have to tell, dad.” “Oh, your dad will know,” Felicity said, a grin tugging at her lips. “But’s that’s half the fun, isn’t it? He can never stay mad at us.” “No, he can’t.” William agreed, his dad may have been Starling City’s most feared hero but he was a big softy when it came to his family. Felicity turned around reaching for her phone to make the call to place an order for dinner but she must have turned too fast, because she suddenly felt lightheaded and dizzy, she threw her arms out to steady herself. “Felicity?” William asked. “Are you alright?” Felicity dropped her hands back to her side and reached for her phone. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just moved too fast.” she turned, halfway shooting him another smile, taking a step back toward the counter but another wave of dizziness hit her, she stumbled forward losing her footing. “Felicity!” William cried at as she fell forward her head smacking against the counter as she fell to the floor unconscious. William jumped from his chair, rushing to her side and rolling her over onto her back. “Felicity?!” Alarm shot through William, seeing her head was slowly starting to bleed where she smacked it against the edge of the counter and she wasn’t waking up. “Felicity?” He shook her gently. “Felicity!” Panic started seizing his chest and he scrambled for her phone, dialing 911."

“Make sure to move your entire body when you throw a punch. By doing that your hit will be more effective.” Oliver walked through the lines of his class, making sure they were doing as he was instructing. Occasionally he would stop to correct someone’s stance. His class consisted of women mainly, there were a couple of teenage girls and a few smaller men. “Alright, good, good.” he encouraged. “Now I want you to jab right, left and then upper-” his phone buzzed in his pocket, he held up a hand to his class. “Give me a moment,” he took a step away, retrieving his phone from his pocket and saw his wife’s picture flashing on the screen. “Hey, I’m finishing up my last cla-” “Dad!” his son’s shaky voice cut him off, he could hear the fear and uncertainty in it. “William, what’s wrong? Why are you calling from Felicity’s phone and not yours?” he asked, fighting back the alarm creeping up on him. “Dad, it's Felicity.” his son said, causing anxiety to fill his chest. “We’re at the hospital.” “What? Is she okay?!” Oliver was instantly alarmed, his heart suddenly pounding against his chest. “I don’t know,” William answered, his voice cracking. “What happened?” Oliver demanded, the lack of details sending him on edge as he left the outer gym, heading toward his office in the back “I don’t know. One minute we were talking the next she was falling, she hit her head on the counter and she wouldn’t wake up, I didn’t know what to do so I called 911.” William answered, his voice breaking. Oliver could hear the fear in his son’s voice, he took a deep calming breath, it was difficult when every cell in his body was screaming at him in fear for his wife. “Take a breath buddy. Where are you right now?” “At the hospital. I rode with Felicity in the ambulance.” William answered. “I wasn’t going to let them leave without me when Felicity was hurt.” “Good, man, buddy. Which hospital did they take you guys to?” “Ivy General. I called you as soon as we got here.” “You’re doing great, buddy," Oliver assured him. "I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay, just stay put.” “Okay,” William replied. “Oh and buddy, you did good.” Oliver hung up with assurances that he would be there as soon as possible. He grabbed his jacket, tugging it on, calling over his shoulder to Jeff one of the few employees he had at his gym to take over and lock up once the class was over. He got onto his bike and sped as fast as he could in the direction of Ivy General, to his son and his wife, praying that Felicity would be okay, that whatever was wrong with her, she would beat it.

`”Dad!” William jumped out of the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair and ran to his father as soon as he came through the hospital doors. Oliver wrapped his arm around his son, taking a moment to comfort him before pulling back. “Felicity? Have the doctors said anything?” “No?” William shook his head. “They haven’t told me anything.” Oliver felt a fresh wave of disappointment, his chest tightening, he quickly released William and walked up to the front desk. “Excuse me, my wife was brought in not too long ago and I need someone to tell me what is happening.” The nurse looked up from her station and did a double take. “Mr. Queen, um, right, just let me see?” She looked at her computer while Oliver tapped his fingers on the counter anxiously. “There’s no word yet on your wife other than she is stable as soon as we know more her doctor will be out to speak with you and your son.” Oliver wanted to demand for her to tell him now but he didn’t want William to see him break, he took a deep breath turned back around and led William to two chairs to wait for however long they had to.

“Mr. Queen?” Oliver’s head snapped up as a doctor approached. “I’m Dr. Bennet.” Oliver practically leaped from his seat, meeting the doctor halfway, William following closely behind him. “My wife? Is she alright?” “You’re wife has a mild concussion from her fall. I’d like to keep her overnight to make sure she and the baby will be alright just to be on the safe side.” Oliver was sure he misheard the man. “Baby?” he repeated, his heart pounding in his chest. “You didn’t know?” Dr. Bennet asked. “No,” Oliver shook his head. “She hadn’t told me.” “Well from what I can tell, it’s pretty early in the pregnancy. A few weeks at best, I’d like to run a few tests just to make sure every thing’s okay.” “Yeah, of course, when can we see her?” Oliver asked placing an arm around William. “In another twenty minutes or so, give or take.” Dr. Bennet answered. “I’ll have a nurse escort you to her room when it’s time.” Oliver nodded, shaking hands with the doctor still stunned by what the doctor had told him. “Dad, are you alright?” William asked in turn. Oliver’s eyes filled with tears. “Yeah, I’m just, I don’t know, surprised.” Honestly, Oliver was damn happy. He knew he wanted to have children with Felicity since before they were even married but it wasn’t something they had discussed in detail. Felicity was a great mother to William but he didn’t know how she felt about more children or even if she wanted more. He hoped she would be happy because he was. Their family was growing and it was everything he ever wanted with her.

Felicity winced as she slowly opened her eyes, looking around in confusion at the white walls that surrounded her and the smell of cleaning chemicals, she tried to lift her hand only to find it encased in a larger one. She turned her head and saw Oliver hunched over beside her, behind him on a small couch against the wall was William his growing frame barely fitting completely onto the cushions. “Oliver,” she murmured and Oliver’s head shot up, a look of relief washing over him as he looked at her. “What’s wrong? What happened?” She cast her eyes around again, observingly. “Why are we in a hospital?” Oliver’s brow furrowed as he stood from his chair to sit on the edge, wanting to be closer to her. “You don’t remember?” “I remember being at home with William,” Felicity said, she looked past Oliver again. “Is he okay?” “He’s was a little shaken up but he’s fine now.” Oliver lifted his hand, carefully brushing her hair back from the bandage on her temple. “You got dizzy and when you fell your head hit the counter. When William couldn’t wake you he called 911.” “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare him.” Felicity could only imagine how William must have felt in that situation. “It’s not your fault.” Oliver shook his head. “It wasn’t in your control,” his hand reached out landing softly on her stomach. “The Doctor told me something and I don’t know if you knew already and just didn’t know how to tell me.” Felicity’s nose scrunched in confusion. “Didn’t know how to tell you what?” “Felicity,” Oliver's thumb brushed against the fabric of her hospital gown, caressing her stomach. “You're pregnant.” Felicity's eyes widened, gasping silently her hand shot to his over her stomach. “What? Pregnant? What? When? How?” her faced flushed. “I mean, I know how that could happen but-” “We haven’t exactly been safe,” Oliver said, realizing she hadn’t known about their baby either. Felicity knew he was right. Oliver and she had always been tactile when expressing the love they felt for one another and since he got out of jail, they've been insatiable, spending any alone time they could together. Still, it was a shock to know she was going to be completely responsible for the tiny little person growing in her womb. “I know we didn’t talk about this and we certainly didn’t plan it but I believe this could be a good thing.” Felicity's eyes shot back up to Oliver to see him looking uncertain, his words bringing her focus back to him. “Oliver, I’m not unhappy about this.” “You’re not?” he asked, looking doubtful. “No, of course not. How could be I anything else but happy? We did something, we made another human being who is both of us, you and me.” Felicity's eyes grew wet. “A mini you. I’m just processing.” “So you’re happy?” asked Oliver with a hopeful smile, wanting to be sure. “Yes, I’m beyond happy,” a small laugh escaped her. “I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby.” Oliver’s eyes filled with tears. “Our family is growing.” “Yeah, it is.” Felicity couldn’t be happier that they got out of Starling, her brow furrowed, however. “What is it?” Oliver asked in concern. “We have no more extra rooms for a baby or a playroom, we’re gonna need a bigger house,” Felicity said, her mind working with all the things they needed to do. Oliver laughed light-heartedly, eyes shining with pure happiness. “I love you so much.” Felicity's eyes softened and she reached a hand up, touching his cheek. “I love you, too.” Oliver leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers in a loving kiss while keeping his hand over her stomach where their child was growing. This right here, this moment? It was these moments that he wanted to cherish. These were the moments that made everything he’d been through worth it and he couldn’t wait for all those little moments to come along. He wanted to experience every single one of them with his family, starting today. He cupped Felicity’s cheek with his free hand, deepening their kiss, finding contentment in the simple act of loving and being loved in return. He was happier than ever with his and Felicity’s decision to leave Starling City behind them and put their family first. This was the start of a new beginning. A better one. A beginning after everything they went through they deserved.

A/N: Like, Reblog, leave a comment, I’ll consider it a birthday present to me.

Tags: @scu11y22 @it-was-a-red-heeler @broken-hearted823 @dams-0111 @salthelegend @fluffarama @cainc3 @soniasilvasposts @msbeccieboo @almondblossomme @mariestark @iteveriarke @planetpluuto @madridista89

#arrow #arrow fic #olicity #olicity fic #oliver x felicity #oliver queen #Felicity Smoak #series: post Olicity Reunion fic

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years

Text

Resol’nare - Part Seven

A/N: This part has a lot of bits that I have been excited to share. There are a lot of pieces of my own HCs in here, as well as a few plot hint crumbs that I’ve had fun developing, so I hope you guys enjoy this one! (Also sorry it was late- we got power back late last night and I was too lazy to post after making dinner. oops. Don’t worry, I already formatted eight so this won’t happen again next week) Also, also... Fennec and Boba are fun to write :)

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: The Mandalorian makes the journey back to Tatooine to take care of some things back at the covert after his run in with Navina on Nevarro. More is revealed about the goings on in the upper levels of Boba Fett’s complex, we learn what he and Fennec are up to, as well as a little more about how things are run below. And we finally hear what Bo-Katan has been itching to tell him.

Warnings: descriptions of violence, death, talk of manipulating kids (if you’re unsure feel free to ask)

Word Count: 5.6k

Tatooine.

The suns were sinking into the Dune Sea by the time he pulled Peli’s rental speeder into one of the hidden bays at the rocky base of Fett’s palace complex. There were three other occupied spaces, leaving just the one to his left empty. A quick scan of the vehicles that were there told him immediately who wasn’t. Fennec. Hers was the easiest to recognize. She had painted it a heavy matte black, accented with a weblike design of crisscrossing red lines. It wasn’t inconspicuous but she didn’t want or need it to be. If one of her targets saw her speeder and made the connection, it was already too late for them to turn and run. She liked knowing that they felt some modicum of fear or at the very least panic in the seconds before she struck, and he couldn’t blame her. They had it coming.

For too long the scum that she and Boba were after had run nefarious crime rings that preyed on scared, young kids with nowhere else in the galaxy to turn. It was how they’d both ended up in their line of work, Boba swept into a life of violent instability in the aftermath of his father’s death, and Fennec developing a kind of admiration and a misplaced feeling of owing her employers for rescuing her from being sold to a brothel as a child. The slime had wasted no time in manipulating her, taking that gratitude and twisting it into something ugly and sinister, crafting her into a sniper, a trained, leashed killer, trading one horrible outcome for another. By the time she realized how trapped she truly was, the price on her own head had climbed so high it had very nearly gotten her killed.

He winced thinking back to when he’d found her crumpled form in the sand. His thoughts had flashed so quickly to Grogu, to getting back to where he was and ensuring his safety, that he had only given Fennec a cursory check for any signs of life. Had Fett not been tracking the Mandalorian in search of his father’s armor, the woman would have died there in the desert. But the grizzled wanderer had found her, and saving the assassin from the brink of oblivion had given both of them a second chance. Fennec had been freed from the things that held her feet to the flames, and Boba had been given a reason to care for someone other than himself. He may have never been in any real peril on Tatooine- Not even in that pit if how I’ve seen him fight is any indication of how he handled that Sarlacc- but two souls were saved that day regardless. Though they worked as a pair and while Fennec deferred to Fett at first, she gave him her loyalty because she chose to, not because she was made to, and he gave her his respect because she had proven herself to be just as resilient as he was.

Now, having taken the palace from the Hutt crime family and rooted out their presence on the planet, the two child killers turned vigilantes had started working on the galaxy’s other crime rings. Their sights were currently set on the Black Sun syndicate, and they had been working on picking away at one of their strongholds in Ord Mantell City, dispatching those who gave them no new information immediately, and freezing and bringing anyone who might have something useful to share back to the complex on Tatooine. Karga and the Bounty Hunter’s Guild on Nevarro had even been helping them, and more than a handful of the Mandalorians from the new covert had offered their assistance as a way to repay Boba and Fennec for providing them the space. Yes, they were taking the law into their own hands, but he had seen time and again how easily the New Republic could be made to look the other way, so he had no personal or moral objections to what they were doing.

And so far they had brought three children under the age of thirteen back to the covert. The kids were being held captive as leverage so that the Black Sun leaders could keep control over their parents, often threatening them with things unspeakable should they refuse to do what their bosses required of them. The youngest was no more than five. After they’d been fed and tended to by the Healer and given a place to rest in the tunnels below, Woves one of the Mandalorians he’d first met on Trask, had set out to get in touch with the guardians of the rescued children. Since joining the cause to unite the clans, Axe had become increasingly interested in participating in educating and caring for the covert’s children, even assisting the Instructor in teaching new sparring techniques or sharing the perspective of someone who had grown up on Mandalore when it came to more cultural or historical lessons. Though he’d tried to make contact multiple times using the information that he had on the children- only their names and home planets- just the two older boys had been claimed by living relatives.

The smallest, a girl barely reaching the top of Woves’ boot, didn’t seem to have anyone anywhere. Though he continued to try to locate the child’s kin, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the Armorer was presiding over the gai bal manda, the man who had once been one of Bo-Katan’s most feared fighters kneeling in front of the entire Tribe and swearing to protect and raise the child as a warrior, as a member of his clan. As his own.

Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad. I know your name as my child. Grogu.

He felt a tug in his chest, just behind his rib cage as he dismounted the speeder, those big round eyes blinking at him from beneath that wrinkled green forehead and those over large ears filling his thoughts before he could guard himself. With a sigh, he wished for what could have been the hundredth time that he had been given the chance to take that vow, swear those words… Raise my son.

Slinging his bag across his body and ensuring that the Darksaber’s hilt was clipped firmly to his belt with one hand, the other went to one of the leather pouches at his waist. Without needing to look, he pulled the small silver ball from its designated spot, spinning it twice between his thumb, index and middle fingers. We’ll see each other again. I promise. The metal sphere slipped smoothly in his gloved grasp, the object giving him comfort. It was something tangible, a link to the thing he carried in his heart for the child that had upended his entire world. Bo-Katan might understand Woves’ choice if she… He let out another breath and tucked the ball away. But all she can see is Mandalore.

The sharp-eyed, orange- haired heiress was not too keen on her former companion’s sudden calling towards child rearing, but swearing an adoption vow, promising to care for a foundling, was such an integral part of Mandalorian beliefs, of The Way, that she knew better than to try to talk him out of it. She would lose any credibility that she had as a leader if any of the others caught wind of that. She still had Reeves, and Hast, one of the few that had made it off of Nevarro, had also volunteered to help her search for other hidden coverts and lone stragglers in the far reaches of the Outer Rim, on the quiet, often overlooked planets in the Mid Rim, in the corrupt and crowded cities of the Core Worlds. And if she wanted more help I’m sure there are others who would go.

He cringed, tilting his chin down to glance at the innocuous looking object knocking against the beskar tasset covering his left thigh with every step towards the tunnels he took. If she wanted, I could… He reached across his body to wrap his hand around the sword's grip. It still felt strange. Unnatural. I could order others to join her mission. Dropping it as soon as the thought crossed his mind, it hit the beskar beneath it with a loud clang that echoed in the dark passages that connected the speeder bay to the main hall. Leadership in a fight, in a battle, in negotiations, while all still outside of what he would have chosen for himself, were things that he could get his head around. But making demands? Setting punishments and enforcing laws? It was the things that ran in that vein of what it meant to be the Mand’alor that gave him the most pause now that the Armorer had assuaged some of his other doubts regarding the title that had been thrust upon him, unwanted.

Thing after thing. Loss after loss. Responsibility after responsibility. That had been his life for nearly four decades, and it didn’t seem like his burdens would be getting lighter any time soon. For the first time since he left Nevarro two days before, he thought of the woman he’d run into there, whose stolen vambraces he was bringing back to be reforged. Navina. Though he’d only spent a few hours with her he had picked up the impression that difficult trials and heavy hardships followed her wherever she went, too. He wondered if that was uniquely Mandalorian, or if there were others who understood the same level of loneliness that sometimes came when such strength was constantly required of a being. She had spoken of her clan; of losing her mother and being separated from her father and the foundling that her family had taken in, not knowing after all that time if they were still alive. He knew the odds and she seemed clever enough to know them, too, and though he had sympathy for her, it also made him feel less like he was alone in struggling to carry an ungainly load. I have to remember to ask the others about her father… Harsa. That was the name.

There were several things he had to do on this trip, asking about Navina’s family name just the latest addition to the list. After promising the Armorer on his last visit that he would begin training with the Darksaber, he knew that he would be spending at least two sessions with the Weapons Master, learning how to wield the legendary black blade. We’ll start with the beskad, though. He was firm in that and he knew that no one would argue with him. He wanted to check in with Fett, make sure that the arrangement was still working and that the man didn’t need anything from him. He had no doubt though, that if the man running things topside had any issues, he wouldn’t hold them back, not hesitating to contact the Mandalorian directly to launch his complaints. His directness was one of the things that he liked most about Boba, and one of the reasons that he had been so quick to trust him. I hope he’s free now. I’d rather start there then…

The last thing that he absolutely could not leave the planet without doing, was meeting with Bo-Katan for a debrief on the recruiting efforts and to begin discussing tactics for reclaiming their ancestral homeland. Hers, anyway. She wasn’t happy that he had put it off for as long as he had, but again, he knew that she wouldn’t voice her displeasure for fear of the optics of disagreeing with the Mand’alor. Politics. His top lip curled at the thought that he would have to get good at knowing how to keep people on his side, even when he knew that their endgames were slightly out of alignment with his. Maybe she’s in the sparring hall now. He knew that she spent hours training with Reeves and Hast whenever she came back to the covert, and he hoped that was where she was now.

If he was being entirely honest, something about her still didn’t sit well with him, but he knew that he didn’t have to like everyone to work with them.

Striding the last few steps through the winding passage, he finally reached the plain stone archway, a circular splotch of light from one of the torches visible on the other side of it. Two helmeted Mandalorians stood guard, but moved aside as soon as they saw the signet on his shoulder and the Darksaber on his belt.

“Olarom yaim, Mand’alor.” The shorter of the two spoke with a nod, welcoming him home in a voice that cracked too adolescently for the modulator in the newly sworn fighter’s helmet to hide. A kid. He recalled the first few years after he’d finished his required training in the Fighting Corps, the cockiness, the harsh lessons that no amount of studying or practicing in the sparring hall could prepare him for. He’s just a kid.

It was different though, the way that Mandalorians allowed Tribe members to swear additional oaths inducting them into the elite group of warriors at seventeen, than what the syndicates did, how they inducted their young members. We learn and train our whole lives for it. Understand what we’re agreeing to. Not like… He swallowed a sudden spike of rage at the thought that the quiet, innocent child that was likely still latched to Woves’ right leg would have otherwise ended up raised to be a mercenary -or worse- for the Black Sun. But she won’t now.

“Thank you,” he responded to the young guard cursing himself for forgetting the Mando’a translation. I need to do better with that. Again he felt his thoughts backtracking to Navina and the way that he’d heard several Mando’a words roll easily off of her tongue. Maybe she can… when we meet again in a few weeks, maybe she can help me with… He sighed. There was a long list of things he needed to talk to her about when he saw her next, just like the list of things that awaited him at the top of the staircase he was currently climbing. He wanted to know more about her pendant, about the seam they had found in the metal that hinted at a modification that was made well after the piece had been crafted that would allow the Mythosaur to hold the peculiar stone that shone purple. He wanted to know more about what had prompted her family to leave Concordia, why they were running and why they’d had to separate. He wanted to know anything that he could from her and any other Mandalorians he encountered that might help him be the Mand’alor that the young guardsman and everyone else in the covert seemed to think that he was.

As soon as he ascended the last few steps though, his thoughts were interrupted by a heavy arm falling around his shoulder. “Still in one piece then, Mand’alor?”

Boba Fett’s gruff, gravely voice was oddly comforting, and he knew that he was likely one of maybe two people who thought that. He returned the one armed thunk that he supposed the other man took for a hug. “Seems that way.” The man’s heavily scarred face pulled up into a jagged looking grin, the expression almost jarring on such a serious visage, but then a rumbling chuckle came out and took the smile with it, leaving his features in their natural scowl. “Everything alright here?”

The Mandalorian followed Fett through the large main hall, past the stone slab throne that he only occupied when passing judgement on those that he and Fennec brought back once any useful information could be wrung from them, and through to the long table that had been brought in for strategy meetings and sharing information with the Bounty Hunter’s Guild and others who agreed to offer help. “Everything’s fine,” he said with a grunt, gesturing flippantly with one hand, pulling a chair out from the table with the other. “The Princess wasn’t too thrilled when she found out she’d have to wait for you, but tell me, Mandalorian, is that woman ever truly happy about anything?”

He had never so much as seen her smile. Pulling out a chair of his own, he simply shrugged. It seemed unlikely. “I’ll meet with her as soon as we’re through here.” Fett nodded. “I had… urgent business on Nevarro.”

“Urgent?” One eyebrow rose on the man’s forehead.

“Yes, I met another Mandalorian, only she was,” he tilted his head to the side as the image of Navina’s silver-gray eyes staring at him through her shattered visor flashed in his mind. “Different.”

Boba answered with another gruff chuckle as he reached for the jug of spotchka that was never too far away. “Different, was she?” He took a long pull, the remnants of his teasing laugh still there when he lowered the jug and swiped the back of his free hand across his mouth.

What? No, that’s- He leaned forward, elbows on the stone surface as he made a quick slicing motion with one hand. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

It wasn’t. But as he dropped his palms back to the tabletop, he could recall the way it felt when he’d gripped her biceps, shaking her from her dreams. He had been concerned that she would hurt herself or more inconveniently, break one of the controls in the cockpit with the way she was thrashing in her sleep. But what he remembered now, hands flat before him, was how it felt to make contact with her skin, even if it was just through the thick padding of his gloves. He pressed his thumb down hard on the table like he had pressed it into the crease of her bent arm, squeezing the muscle there to get her attention. She felt strong and warm and solid and he almost held onto her for too long, caught up in the feel of another body beneath his hands. That isn’t what I meant.

He cleared his throat and went on. “She hasn’t sworn the Creed, but she carries out the traditions, she can fight, knows things about Mandalorian history-“ he looked up at the man across from him, Fett abandoning his ribbing to regard the Mandalorian seriously. “She had a helmet and a dagger made of pure beskar.”

“And you’re sure she’s not a thief?”

Technically she is. But she didn’t steal the helmet or the kal. She didn’t steal the pendant. “They belonged to her parents.” He explained what the woman had told him about how her family had been split up- how she had known for a fact that her mother had been killed, but that since it had been years since she’d seen her father or the other child in her family, she had no way of knowing if they were still alive. “She… she asked me to spread word here at the covert, in case anyone knows where to find her father. Harsa. His name is Gavil Harsa.”

Boba shrugged. “Don’t know any Harsa. But then, I’m no Mandalorian either. Your different girl and I have that in common.”

She’s not my-

But before he could protest what had just been said, voices from the same entrance he had come through caught his and Boba’s attention, the other man standing as Fennec’s dry, smirking tone could be heard greeting the guard at the door. “You’re back.” He stated, opening his arms wide, his voice booming across the otherwise empty space. “What took so long?” He dropped his arms as Fennec maneuvered a carbonite block through the doorway.

She cocked her head in the direction of the hardened, frozen slab containing what could have been any number of humanoid species, their features completely indiscernible but clearly contorted in terror. “Ixon here didn’t want to come quietly.” She turned to pull the block the rest of the way through, the unit hovering weightless and only needing her guidance for direction. “It was actually quite a workout.” She grinned. “For him.” Fett let out another gravelly laugh as Fennec turned her attention to the Mandalorian. “Mando,” she smiled and used one hand to push her long black braid behind her. “Good to see you.”

“Fennec,” he nodded a greeting. “You’ve been busy, I see.”

“Nothing for the Mand’alor to worry about,” she winked, shoving the block containing Ixon more roughly than necessary. “Just dealing with the trash.” She winked as she walked through, waving off Boba when he tried to assist her. “I’ll handle this one on my own.” She patted the side of the unit with an almost malicious gleam in her dark eyes. “It’s personal.”

“I’d pity him if he weren’t walking slime,” Boba offered her the spotchka jug but she declined with a flick of her wrist.

“He might not be walking when I’m done.” She gave the block another shove towards a door on the other side of the large room, her lips lifting in a quick snarl. “See you around, Mando,” she called over her shoulder, disappearing with Ixon, not waiting for a response.

“They say if you love your job you never work a day in your life,” he clapped a large meaty palm on the Mandalorian’s arm. “And Shand loves her new job.” That much is obvious. “Speaking of jobs, Mand’alor,” he gestured with his jug towards another set of stairs that led to the tunnels that the covert was using, the blue liquid sloshing gently as he did. “I’m sure yours is calling.”

He stiffened. “Yes.”

The man, gnarled by life and the things that had tried to drag him from it, set the jug down then. “Taking that planet back… well, you know what I think there.” I do. From first mention, he had not held back his opinion of the mission. “But bringing this many Mandalorians together under one roof? And they haven’t killed each other yet? I know you didn’t ask for this but,” he narrowed his eyes. “That’s no small feat.”

It was as close to true praise as Boba Fett had likely ever bestowed upon anyone, and he knew that. It was also the truth. He thanked the man and crossed the room to yet another doorway that led to a different set of stairs. This time though, as he shifted the bag on his shoulder, the metal pieces inside clanging together, he did not stop on the landing and wait to pass off the reclaimed beskar to a middleman. This time, he continued down the second set that brought him to the forge.

It was quiet, the Armorer taking a rare break from her unending task of providing the best protection and defenses that she could for her people. As a child it was easy for him to forget that there was a human beneath that pointed gold helmet. Her understated power, the sparks that flew frantically from her hammer, the ability she possessed to craft such stunning objects all contributed to the almost mythological status that he and the other small children regarded her with. He still admired and respected her and held her in higher esteem than anyone else in the covert, he knew that even the Armorer needed to eat, needed rest, needed to give her own ears a reprieve from the ringing of her tools battering hot metal.

Entering the room for the first time since the covert relocated to Tatooine, he gave himself time to take the space in. Slowly turning his head he scanned over the work table, all of the tools neatly arrayed, each one clean and sharp and shining, each one a weapon in its own right. The forge itself was unlit, the mouth that usually spat fire simply open in a gaping yawn, but as he ran his hand over it he felt the residual heat that never completely faded. He wondered if what was left of the forge back on Nevarro still retained any warmth.

Drawing his hand back, he stepped over to the small table that the Armorer used for meeting with the recipients of her work. Reaching into his bag, he took the vambraces that Navina had surrendered and set them on the surface between the two empty stools, leaving them for when the Armorer returned to her duty. She’ll know what to do. And where they came from. He would return to the forge the next morning to speak with her in more detail about the items’ provenance, and also to spread Navina’s family name to the member of the Tribe who was most likely to know it. He gave the room one last scan, slowly turning his head so that he could see it all through the eyeline of his visor, then left, continuing on with his own list of responsibilities.

A handful of the covert’s children, some in the second hand helmets of the older ones, others belonging to clans that didn’t cover their faces at all times displaying smudges of dirt across round cheeks, were gathered in the widest portion of the hall. Engaged in some game that he likely played himself at that age, they shrieked and laughed and jumped. The kid would love it here. He could easily picture Grogu waddling into the group of young Mandalorians and fitting in without a problem, and he hoped that he had other children to be a child with while he underwent his Jedi training.

Continuing on and following the fork to the left, he headed next for the sparring hall. Unlike the forge, it was not empty. He could already hear the sound of practice staffs clashing, and the Instructor’s voice calling out advice to his trainees. One of the fighters grunted as they lunged or swung, and he knew right away from the sound that it was Bo-Katan, the heavy footsteps he heard suggesting that she was training with Hast.

Since she was occupied at present, he stopped at the door beside the entrance to the sparring hall to arrange sessions with the Weapons Master. The man seemed pleased that the Mand’alor was ready to start working with the beskad in preparation for the Darksaber, and gave him his choice of available times for one on one training. Slating himself for three instead of the two he had planned on, he thanked the man and, with nothing left to do to push it off any longer, he entered the sparring hall and prepared to speak with Bo-Katan.

She was still locked in a battle with Hast, the hulking man nearly twice her size but incredibly nimble for his weight and width. Blocking a swing of her opponent’s staff, the helmetless woman gritted her teeth and gripped her own weapon, holding it horizontally in front of her chest to take the force of the blow. Her feet slid back but she dug them in and gave a strong shove. Staffs still connected, the push set Hast off his balance just enough for her to turn the staff and whip it down and behind the man as he tried to regain his footing. In a sweeping blur she used it to take his legs out from under him, and he fell hard to the ground. Following all the way through to the finishing position, Bo-Katan flipped her staff around, jabbing it a few inches from Hast’s helmet, signifying her victory.

It was impressive, but the Mandalorian knew that she was a skilled fighter, having seen her in live battle. She extended a hand to help Hast up, then turned towards the entrance. “You’re here.” It sounded almost skeptical, and he noticed the tiny twitch of her brow, hardly any sweat beading there after her workout. “Back from your,” she passed the staff behind her to Hast who took both of them back to the wall, the Instructor stowing them on their pegs. “From your urgent business?”

He’d been expecting her to be upset, so the bite in her tone wasn’t a shock. “Yes.” He answered simply, not willing to allow her annoyance to spark his own. “I’m ready to discuss plans with you.”

Her eyes narrowed, lips pressed together in a thin line as though that was the only thing keeping her frustration in. She swallowed, then let out a short breath and gestured toward the door. “Shall we, then?”

The Mandalorian nodded and once she’d thanked the Instructor and Hast for the session, she followed him out into the hallway, the two heading for one of the smaller halls that had been designated for closed door meetings. “Thank you, for your patience.” He knew that she hadn’t been patient, but that she wanted it to seem like she had. “I had things to tend to, but I’ll be here for about two weeks, and I,” he opened the door to the room, letting her in before him and then closing it after he entered. Letting out a small sigh that he knew she wouldn’t be able to hear, he continued. “Aside from training with the Weapons Master I can spend as much time as necessary working with you.”

Her cheek jumped as she gave a quick smile that was more of a forced smirk. “Well, that’s great news.” Pulling out a chair, she gestured for him to do the same, which he did. “Because we have a lot to discuss.”

She went on to tell him that she, Hast and Koska Reeves had come back with ten adult Mandalorians from a covert located in the Mid Rim, and four children that had been part of their clans. There were a few that had chosen not to come back to Tatooine, but he and the others had all agreed that no one would be forced into joining them, that it was a decision only they could make for themselves. Still, adding fourteen to the Tribe in just one trip was something of note. For most of his life he had thought that his kind were far closer to extinction than they were. It was encouraging to see their numbers grow after so much time spent thinking that they were alone, and he hoped it gave the others that joined them there that same feeling of hope. That even if the quest to take back Mandalore were to fail, they would still have a safe place there where they didn’t have to hide in the shadows and only gather in groups of twenty or fewer. At least they were united now. At least they had a home.

She went on to tell him about the old rebel base they had heard about on the remains of Concord Dawn, a planet in the Mandalore System that had all but been destroyed in the centuries of warfare that plagued that portion of the galaxy. Largely uninhabitable, and missing nearly a third of its mass, the planet had been abandoned ages ago. But it’s proximity to Mandalore made it a good candidate to set up a base of their own once the battle for their planet began. She outlined what would be needed in terms of weapons, fortifications and troops, and stated that once they had acquired and allotted the required supplies, she would like to accompany him on a trip to Concord Dawn so that he could see it for himself before the base was established.

Agreeing to all of this, he listened as she laid out her plans for obtaining what was needed, giving her another two hours of his time before exhaustion started setting in so heavily that he wouldn’t have been able to listen to much more even if it was the most interesting topic in the universe. Assuring her that they could pick up where they left off the next morning, he excused himself from the small room and headed for the chamber that he always slept in when he was at the covert.

He didn’t know why, but as he removed his helmet he thought again of the woman he met on Nevarro, and how he was about to begin a war to take back her home planet. Unbuckling the rest of his armor piece by piece and laying it out to be polished and cleaned, he wondered if she would ever go back to the place she was born once they had won it back, or if their own traditions would make her feel unwelcome there. Frowning, he hoped that wouldn’t be the case, that he would help build the kind of society that welcomed anyone who was an ally, whether or not they swore an oath. Would she take the creed? Pulling the breastplate cuirass over his head, he wondered if it was even something she would want to do. She said she wasn’t given the chance… what if she was?

Shaking his head to clear her from his thoughts, he finished taking care of his armor for the evening, focusing on the lightness in his limbs that came from removing all that weight, and sunk into the mattress, finding sleep as soon as his eyes closed.

But the head shake hadn’t cleared her completely, his dreams tinged with purple light and the echo of her name.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the tags! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @valkblue @malionnes @gollyderek

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mordenheim · 5 years

Text

Dr. Mordenheim’s Travels, Book 1: De Writer’s Equestria, Ch. 1

Dr. Victor Mordenheim has traveled to many different realities in his many centuries of existence. This series, which I shall add to from time to time, will explore some of them, beginning with the world of @ask-de-writer.

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The tall, slender zebra staggered his way through the tangled undergrowth of the Everfree forest. Dead branches tangled in his mane, tugging his head back and even clawing at his eyepatch as he trudged onward, pausing occasionally to make sure he still had his saddlebags. He had been wandering for what seemed like days as the paths constantly shifted and changed direction as he traveled. Once in a while he would follow a seemingly straight path and end up passing the same tree several times. Other times he would take a sharply curving route that seemed to circle back on itself, only to end up in an entirely different location.

It was still mostly dark when he finally pulled himself free from the brambles and stumbled into a small clearing. The broken and crumbling remains of an old castle stood before him, however this particular castle was somewhat odd. From the rubble he could see that various different types and colors of stone were used to construct its walls and towers. Each tower also seemed to once have a different type of roof. A rounded spire on one, a flat top where he spied the rotting remains of an open wooden trap door. Prodding at the walls with a hoof, the remaining stone seemed solid and sturdy. Perhaps this would be a place he could fix up to stay for a while.

Around the front there was a short path that lead to a small building. It had perhaps been a guard house or a small barracks at one time. A few old, broken benches sat inside as well as various shelves and racks along the walls, all covered in dust and cobwebs. However, through the front he saw the most welcoming sight of all. No more than ten feet from the front door was an actual cobblestone road and the faint pink light of the rising sun on the horizon. He had finally found his way out of this forsaken forest.

He had followed the road to the east for a short way before he stopped, confused. He could see the outskirts of Ponyville up ahead, yet that town had ever only had a simple dirt road between it and the Everfree. When had they built such a fine road, he wondered to himself. As well as pondering just how long he actually had been lost in the wood. He was well aware that time passed strangely in the Everfree, and space itself seemed warped and broken.

Making sure his saddlebags were still secure and doing his best to get the worst of the burrs out of his fur he trotted into Ponyville proper. As he looked around he could see that quite a few things had changed while he had been lost. The buildings seemed different, more colorful and sturdier in build. The roads were solid and well-maintained and the trees and grasses trimmed and cared for. All of this, however, was quickly wiped from his mind as the scent of delicious cooking wafted past his nose, causing his empty stomach to clench painfully and give a low growl.

Trotting along the street, following his nose he soon came upon a smallish building with a sign out front sitting across from a well maintained park. “Caramel Treat’s Sweets” was a lovely little restaurant and certainly the source of the delicious aromas. He paused outside of the door for a moment. It was not yet full dawn and most eateries that he knew of only operated from dawn to dusk, or from lunch hour until late.

He was starting to draw a few stares from early risers as he waited until full dawn. He rolled his eye as several ponies opened their door to set about their of business, laid their eyes on him, and immediately slammed their doors, peeking through window shades. He rubbed at his eyepatch as he sighed, he was well used to this reaction by now. He only hoped that his patronage would be accepted at this little restaurant or who knows how long he would have to wait to eat. He might even have to brave the pink whirlwind that inhabits Sugarcube Corner. He shuddered at the thought.

He need not have worried, though. Just a few moments later the door opened wide and a young caramel colored mare with a blonde mane stepped into view. She started to speak but quickly changed her tune a bit when she spied a zebra the size of a Rom horse on her doorstep! “What a beautiful.. Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had a customer already!”

Victor was pleasantly stunned by the warm response! He smiled, careful not to show his sharp teeth as he lowered himself into a graceful bow, “Good mornin’ to ye. I was just wondering if you were open yet for the day. I’ve been traveling a long distance and would like to rest my weary bones for a bit and purchase a meal.”

Caramel’s ear twitched a bit. The zebra’s voice was deep and rich, but that certainly was not a Zebrican accent. She smiled and nodded, trotting back into the restaurant, “Of course, of course, please, come right in!”

The huge zebra smiled and entered the restaurant, ducking his head as he entered more out of habit than anything. The inside was well-lit and high-ceilinged with several tables, chairs, a small bar, even pillows to sit on here and there. He trotted over to the bar so he would be a bit away from the windows and pulled over a soft pillow to rest upon. His old joints creaked as he lowered himself, grateful that he finally got a chance to relax.

Caramel trotted over with a glass of ice water and a menu. Setting the glass down, she placed the menu in his hooves. She sniffed at the air, seeming to be sniffing at her own cooking when an odd look crossed her face. She blinked once, then smiled knowingly at her huge guest, “Just let me know when you’re ready to order. I should be able to hear you just fine.” She leaned in with a soft whisper and mentioned, “If you need any items towards the back of the menu, just let me know, I’ll need to move you in case of other guests, but we will gladly help you here.”

Victor was a bit taken aback by the strange look, but the gentle smile afterwards seemed to reassure him. He blinked a bit, curious about what she meant by items towards the back, but he decided he would check the entire thing anyway. He had just about decided on a dish called clovertop scramble with vegetable fries and something called Rom black tea when he flipped to the back of the menu. His eyebrows raised as he saw the page filled with meat options. Fried or baked fish, roasted chicken, even bacon! He had to lift a napkin to his mouth to hide, and soak up the drool. Shaking his head, he looked up from the menu, wondering how she could have known.

Making up his mind, he decided it might be best to take it easy on his system after having not eaten for so long. He called out to her and placed his order. A clovertop scramble, a bit of dry toast instead of the fried vegetables, and a cup of Rom black tea sounded perfect. In mere minutes, she had brought out the delicious-smelling food and placed it before him. He thanked her and slowly tucked into his meal.

Every bite was wonderful. A slight bit of black pepper and a tang of salt gave the scramble an incredible flavor, every fluffy bite seeming to melt in his mouth. The toast, in spite of being dry as he requested, was crisp and flavorful, a perfect pairing to the scramble. The tea was unlike anything he had tasted before. Spicy and floral with a soft bit of warmth underlying everything. In spite of trying to take his time, it was mere moments before he was using the last corner of toast to wipe his plate clean.

He smiled contentedly, remarking how wonderful everything was as Caramel Treat trotted back over to the bar. He paid his fee and tipped a single golden bit. Caramel looked at the coins a little oddly as she hadn’t seen any quite like these before. They were real, the right weight and metals, but the imprints were odd to her. The copper coin had an image of a phoenix in repose, the silver a long, slender dragon or sea serpent curling around the edge, while the golden coin was the most interesting. Both front and back bore an intricate Celtic knot design around the edge. The front bore an image of two hooves grasping a heart topped by a crown while the rear bore the motto “Friendship, Loyalty, Love” struck into the soft metal.

He tilted his head to the side as he watched her studying the coins, “Is something wrong? Did I need to do some sort of money exchange before paying?”

Caramel shook her head, “No, there’s no problem. I’ve just never seen coins like this before.”

Victor nodded, “Ah, that explains it. They’re from my home country, Shireland. I’ve picked up other coins in my travels, but the majority of them are still from home. I have a question for you, though.”

She nodded as she got her explanation for the odd coins, but then it was her turn to be curious about his questions. He leaned in close, still smiling but this time feeling comfortable enough to let his oddly sharp, interlocking teeth show a bit as he whispered, “How could you tell I might be interested in the items in the back of your menu?”

She grinned in return, pointing a hoof up to a sign above the bar, central in the restaurant for every creature to see. On it were depicted the images of two large wolves with the text “If you have any problem with any customer of ours for any reason, be it race, kind, species, belief or any other reason at all, PLEASE LEAVE. We bite, HARD!”. She winked and said, “I think that’s a pretty good likeness of myself and Fangrin.”

Victor’s jaw almost hit the bar! To find not just one, but two creatures similar to himself was amazing! He smiled even more pleasantly and reached out to gently take her hoof, bowing his head once more. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. I will be sure to stop back very often, indeed. In the meantime, however. It’s been a very long time since I’ve visited ponyville and it seems a lot has changed over the years. Do you know of anyplace nearby where I might be able to get cleaned up and make myself a bit more presentable?”

Caramel smiled and nodded, shaking his hoof in return. “Sure, the Ponyville Day Spa is right down the road in the town square! Just tell Lotus Blossom and Aloe Vera that Caramel sent you and they’ll fix you right up and even give you a nice discount!”

Smiling brightly, he thanked the mare once more for her wonderful meal and her company before trotting out of the door. His spirits lifted, he held his head up high as he made his way towards the town square! Perhaps Ponyville had changed for the better after all!

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ask-de-writer · 5 years

Text

With explicit permission, I am importing the entire Dr. Mordenhiem’s Travels, Book 1, De Writer’s Equestria, Chapter 1

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DR. MORDENHEIM’S TRAVELS, BOOK 1:De Writer’s Equestria,Ch. 1

@Mordenheim

1918 words

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~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

He tilted his head to the side as he watched her studying the coins, “Is something wrong? Did I need to do some sort of money exchange before paying?”

Caramel shook her head, “No, there’s no problem. I’ve just never seen coins like this before.”

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