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#a little too saccharine and general. cut and paste yourself in here no thought to personality
hotdemonsummer · 3 years
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love the whole outpouring of support for like coming out hcs after seeing all of diathots posts. because obvi its cute its community orientated its wholesome. but at the same time it does remind me of why i dont love headcanon posts like that in general
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for-bebbanburg · 3 years
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Dancing Swords
General Masterlist | The Last Kingdom Masterlist | AO3
Fandom: The Last Kingdom
Pairing: Edward x Reader
Words: 3.1k
Warnings: None
A/N: Written for a lovely anon request, I hope you like it!
Summary: Reader is the eldest daughter of Uhtred and Gisela. When Gisela dies and their family is split up, Y/N hatches a plan to reunite her family.
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When your mother, Gisela, had died giving birth to your youngest brother, you had been taken into the care of Wessex since your father, the Lord Uhtred, was away on business for the king. However, being the eldest daughter of Uhtred, you were allowed to stay in Winchester while your younger siblings were taken elsewhere. When your father had finally returned to Winchester and found about the fate of his family, how it had been torn apart, he had almost lost himself to grief. Only you had been around to comfort him. You did the best you could, but there was little you could do to console your father in his grief when you were still grieving yourself. Uhtred had been ordered away again on more business for the King, whom he was still furious with for breaking apart his family. But before he left, he took you aside and begged you to continue petitioning the King to bring your family back together. He knew he could trust you to do whatever you could to bring your family back together, and of course you took up the mantle with a fiery passion in your heart to match your father’s.
Of course you had tried to stop your family from being torn apart by the King when your mother had first died, even petitioning the king himself, but your pleas fell on deaf ears. One person, however, had listened to your plight with interest. You remembered the look on his face as the King Alfred had sealed the fate of your family. The King’s son, Edward, had not approved of his father’s decision. That much was clear from the look on his face but he had been powerless to stop it. And so, when you started petitioning again to bring your family together, it was to him that you knew you had to speak and gain his trust for what you were to ask.
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The Prince Edward was the same age as yourself and he found you very striking. Not just with your words, you had inherited your mother’s wit after all, but with your natural beauty and grace as well.
You knew the best way to reunite your family was to use all your skills to your advantage. And so, you swapped fighting with words to keep your siblings in Winchester for another kind of fighting - one with the Prince of Wessex himself: Edward - and using sharper instruments than words. You never forgot about your younger brothers and sister, but you knew that if you could get someone on your side and prove your worth, that would be the best way to get them back.
Yet you knew it was wrong after everything his family had done to yours, and it was part of your scheme to reunite your family, but you found that you enjoyed spending time with the young prince. He was reserved in public but in private he seemed to lighten up a bit and become more of the teenager he was, the same age as you.
When you had finished all your chores for the day, you would make your way to the training courtyard. Often you would see Aethelflaed training there as well with Steappa. You liked to watch the princess train, she had skill. Your father had taught you the basics of sword skill when you were younger, telling you that you looked natural at it and would one day become a shieldmaiden. As such, the first time you had seen Aethelflaed training, you knew she was the same. She had the same natural grace with weapons as you had.
Her brother, however, was not as well matched. He started out a little clumsily but with practice he had gotten better. Well, practice and a little tuition from you. You were by no means an expert, like Steappa was, but you could definitely hold your own in a fight if necessary. Even in a dress, much to Edward’s dismay when you had put him on the floor with ease. He maintained that he had been going easy on you because he didn’t want to hurt you, but you had only scoffed and told him to get back up and have another go. He had been on the floor again in less than a minute. That had been the first time you had sparred and Aethelflaed had watched, trying not to laugh. Even as royals, the dynamic between siblings was evident no matter how much they tried to hide it behind manners and protocols.
As the weeks went by, you and Edward drew closer. He often invited you to come to the palace and spar with him. His excuse was that he liked to train with you because he saw you as a “proper Dane’s daughter”, but in truth he just liked to spend as much time with you as possible. He had seen the fire behind your eyes when the rest of your family had been taken away from you, and he had been captivated by it. It was like a moth drawn to a flame and he couldn’t stay away. In his heart he knew you must have had some ulterior motive for training with him - there was no feasible way you could actually want to train with him after everything his family had done to yours. But he still enjoyed the time he spent with you nonetheless.
You also found yourself looking forward to training with Edward, it felt normal now. Perhaps against your better judgement, you had become friends with the young prince. Thoughts of him drifted into your mind at odd times during the day when you were going about your chores or walking through Winchester on your way somewhere. You wondered what he was doing at that moment in time and if he, too, was thinking of you. Sometimes you even felt the blossoming of feelings for the prince, but you tried to squash those by reminding yourself he was still part of your plan to reunite your family. It was positively infuriating that he occupied so much of your thoughts.
On days when you were annoyed with yourself for thinking of him too much, you trained hard. But of course that never helped because you were training with the object of your annoyance. It only made it harder not to think of him and the way his perfect hair fell into his eyes when he moved, or the way a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead when he matched your sword strokes.
However, you were genuinely pleased with the skills Edward now showed with a sword. You had taught him parries, slices, cuts. His agility with a blade had also improved. So had his muscle tone. Where his arms hadn’t been the strongest, with the continued training he now had more stamina and the lithe definition of a warrior. Something which you liked to think about at night before you went to sleep.
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It was one day when he was waiting for you to arrive that he was thinking idley about you. Edward thought of your face, the moment you slipped into the role of shieldmaiden. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but as soon as you picked up a sword and took a fighting stance, you became the embodiment of a Danish shieldmaiden. It was as if another person took over your body, your movements and you looked every inch like the Valkyries of old in your religion. And that only added to your beauty in his eyes.
He was still waiting for you to arrive 15 minutes later. He began to worry because you were late. You were never late. He had made up his mind to look for you himself when he heard a scuffle from the gate. Running to see the commotion, he stopped short when he saw you standing there, hands on hips lecturing a guard, annoyance plain to see all over your face. As he came closer, Edward saw that the guard was red faced and looking incensed like he wanted to be anywhere but there, having an argument with Y/N, daughter of Uhtred of Bebbanburg..
“Is there a problem here?” Edward asked, glancing between you and the guard.
“He wouldn’t let me through.” You replied, glaring daggers at the guard.
“She isn’t authorised to enter the palace at will, my Lord.” The guard replied, standing to attention when in the presence of royalty.
Edward sighed. This guard must have been new. “Y/N has my authorisation to enter the palace. Please allow her to pass in future.”
The guard looked indignant, while you smiled sweetly at the guard, annoying him further.
“My Lord, she is the daughter of Uhtred of Bebbanburg. The Dane.” The guard replied.
“Yes I know that. But she has my authorisation to pass these gates. So stand down.” Edward emphasised the last words.
“Yes, my Lord.” The guard shifted uncomfortably.
“Come now, Y/N. I trust you won’t have a problem in future.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” You replied with another saccharin smile to the guard who was turning even redder. With rage or embarrassment Edward didn’t know.
“What happened?” Edward asked as he lead you inside the palace compound.
“He wouldn’t let me past. I said I was to meet you but he didn’t believe me.” You answered with a nonchalant shrug. Edward raised his eyebrows, silently asking for the rest of the story. He knew there must have been more, there always was when it came to you.
Sighing you indulged him. “When he wouldn’t listen to me, I told him he wasn’t fit to be a palace guard. He was sloppy with his demeanour and wasn’t taking his post seriously before I arrived. I saw him sparring with another guard earlier when they both should have been on duty.” You informed Edward. “Plus his sword skills leave a lot to be desired judging by the sparring I saw him do earlier. He isn’t fit to be a palace guard. If Winchester is attacked by Danes, I would not want him to protect the palace.”
It was certainly concerning what you said about the guards on duty, if they were not taking their roles seriously. But he had to ask. “So that was reason to tell him he isn’t fit to be a guard?”
“Yes.” You showed no remorse for your words.
“You embarrassed him and his ego.”
“He deserved it.”
Edward had to smile at that. “No doubt he did. But I will ask for his training to be reviewed.” Edward knew he shouldn’t be encouraging you, but he couldn’t resist teasing. “Perhaps you can be the one to teach him better sword skills?”
Your eyes lit up. “What a fitting comeuppance that would be!”
Edward was now worried and panicked that you had taken his teasing seriously. “Y/N! No, please ignore I ever said that!”
The excited light in your eyes went out, the guarded exterior returning. You folded your arms and fixed a hard stare at Edward. “Just because I am a woman, it doesn’t mean I can’t show men how to use swords properly.”
“I know that - you have taught me so much after all - but you know as well as I that it can’t happen. You are the daughter of Uhtred of Bebbanburg! People don’t trust you.” His voice raised slightly. Something about you always frustrated him but that’s why he liked you. There was never a dull moment when you were around.
“You trust me!” You shouted, anger flaring, eyes blazing with that fire he admired so.
“Of course I do! I love you!” He shouted back, chest heaving. Then he realised what he had just said, eyes widening.
You looked just as stunned by his confession as he was. “You… love me?” You asked in confusion. For once, you seemed at a bit of a loss for words.
Edward was rapidly turning red, the colour spreading up his face, hands rubbing the back of his neck nervously and not meeting your eyes. “Er…” All he wanted was the floor to swallow him whole. Edward never meant to admit his feelings towards you. Ever. He didn’t want to scare you away, the thought of not seeing you every day was devastating. And now he had certainly blown it, wishing he could take the words back. A forbidden love with you was one he couldn’t have, surely?
All at once he felt hands on his cheeks and your lips on his. He was stunned for a moment before he let himself kiss you back with fervour.
You pulled away slightly and looked him in the eye. “Against my better judgement, I love you too, Edward!”
Grins spread over both your faces and you leaned in to kiss again.
Edward was suddenly dragged away from you by a strong grip. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”
You assessed the situation quickly, seeing your furious father pinning Edward against the wall. You rushed over and tried to placate him. “Father! Calm down! He was not violating me!” You tried to prize your father’s hands off Edward. “I kissed him!”
Uhtred turned seething eyes onto you, but they softened when he saw your pleading expression and heard your words. He took his arm away from Edward’s throat and stepped back.
“And why in the name of Thor did you kiss him?” Uhtred asked, calmer now but no less deadly, trying to reign his anger in. Although he was still ready to break bones if he felt the need to.
“Because I wanted to.” You said defiantly, chin raising in challenge.
Uhtred scowled. “I should not have left you here. I should have taken you to Coccham.”
Your anger flared at that. “You know why I stayed here! And I have not forgotten! In fact, Edward has been helping!” Your voice raised with outrage at the audacity of what your father was suggesting - that you had forgotten what he had asked you to do in trying to reunite your family.
“It didn’t look like he was helping from where I was standing - he looked like a distraction!” Uhtred seethed back. Edward saw the identical looks of anger on both your faces and knew he should step in before tempers flared further.
Stepping forward to stand next to Y/N, Edward interjected before either you or your father could speak again. “I have spoken to my father just this morning. I told him that he was wrong to take your children away and that he should re-evaluate his decision.”
Uhtred turned blazing eyes on Edward then. “And what did he say?” Uhtred ground out.
“That he may have been too rash in his decision and that you have been punished enough. You can take your children home to Coccham.” Edward said calmly, trying not to smile when he looked at you and saw the grin on your face.
“Is this true?!” You asked excitedly.
He allowed himself to smile back. “Yes.”
You turned to your father and flung your arms around him. He was still looking at Edward, but with gratitude instead of anger at the news. Uhtred’s arms wrapped around you in return, the relief evident at his family being together again soon.
You unwrapped yourself from Uhtred’s arms and turned back to Edwards. “Thank you, Edward! Thank you!” Your arms flung around him and he staggered back at the force you used before he got his footing and hugged you back.
“Ok, ok, that’s enough of that now.” Uhtred said, pulling you off Edward.
He was disappointed that he couldn’t hold you for longer, but he didn’t want to get on your father’s bad side. He hadn’t forgotten being pinned to the wall not long ago.
However, he knew he had made you happy with the news, but he was also tainted by sadness. Would you leave Winchester to be with your family? He had only just confessed his love for you, and you for him, and you were probably going to leave. The thought of that was enough to wipe the smile from his face.
“Will you be leaving as well? To Coccham?” He enquired politely. He needed to know if he would lose you, too.
Your smile faltered, something which your father noticed and walked a few paces away to give the illusion of privacy. Even after everything his family had done to yours, Edward knew Uhtred was still a good man and the happiness of his family, of you, was still his priority. Of course Edward knew he wouldn’t be happy about you staying here, but he knew enough of your spirit to know that the decision was yours and yours alone. If you wanted to stay in Winchester then you would, and if you wanted to go to Coccham to be with your family, you would do that as well. Neither Edward nor Uhtred could make you stay in either place. Nor would either of them want to force you to do anything.
“I-I don’t know.” You confessed, worrying your lip between your teeth. You had a lot to think about. You wanted to be with your family, but you also wanted to be with Edward. Both of your earlier confessions of love hadn’t been planned, but neither had your father coming here and Edward breaking the news that your family could be reunited.
Edward touched your shoulder kindly. “You don’t have to decide now. If you stay or leave, you will always be welcome in either place. I will make sure of it.” You looked at him, studying the truth in his face. You truly believed he meant what he said.
“But for now, let’s train! We have to show that guard that you are more than capable of showing a man how to use a sword properly.” He grinned wickedly, which you returned. Uhtred’s eyes looked like they would bulge out of his head as Edward realised what he had said - the double meaning of his words. “A metal sword! Not… any other type of sword!” He clarified hurriedly, holding up a training sword lamely.
Uhtred nodded once, placated for now. Knowing you were in safe hands for now, Uhtred left you and Edward to your training.
But before he turned to leave, Uhtred had one more thing to say. “If I catch you kissing my daughter again, Prince of Wessex or not, I will kill you.” Edward swallowed audibly. Even with all the training he had been doing, he had no doubt whatsoever that Uhtred would beat him without breaking a sweat. 
“I will kiss who I like, father!” You shouted at the retreating back of your father. He only gestured to his sword in response, even if he did have a smile on his face and a mischievous wink.
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hoodwinkd1 · 3 years
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Your Eyes Whispered Ch 14
Ch 11-13 here. Ch 15 here.
Chapter 14: you can hear it in the silence
TW for panic attacks, marked at the beginning and end with “XXX”.
Carina Archeron raised one perfect brow as she surveyed the room. Eris held back a sigh at her dramatic entrance and ridiculously poised expression, the entirety of her presence meant to intimidate his guests.
She returned his gaze after a moment with a falsely saccharine smile. “My pleasure.”
Eris waved a hand, gesturing the musicians to start the music back up. He watched as Carina led her mate, a palace guard turned Illyrian ambassador named Bryce, across the floor until they stood a few feet apart.
The eyes of the crowd remained glued to the four of them, but luckily Eris could now place a sound bubble around their little group. “Did you run out of ways to steal attention in the Night Court? Was that entrance some sort of temper tantrum?”
Bryce snorted as Carina let out a low hum. “Maybe. But more importantly, I heard through the grapevine that you have someone to introduce to me.” Eris felt Rhia straighten her posture as the other female turned to face her.
“That would be a prenaturally speedy grapevine,” Eris mused. “Considering we only met several minutes ago.”
Carina ignored him. “It’s so lovely to meet you,” she said sweetly, extending a hand. “You look more than divine tonight; I can’t wait to find out how much better you are than this prick.”
Rhia accepted it gracefully. “Rhiannon Harmony. I’m glad I’m finally able to put a face to the name?”
Carina giggled. “Finally? I thought this..situation was only a few minutes old?” Her tone made it quite clear that she knew the actual timeline of their relationship, but enjoyed playing all nonetheless.
“Forget him,” Rhia tsked. “You’re somewhat of a celebrity, even in my small town.”
Eris cut in. “Don’t even think about flattering yourself, Carina. We only tolerate your presence because of your parents’ heroic efforts.”
“Rude!” Carina gasped. She poked Bryce’s shoulder. “Do something, defend my honor or whatnot.”
Bryce shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m only with you for your generational wealth.”
Rhia laughed at that, a delightful sound that immediately brought a smile to Eris’ face. Damn him, it was nearly impossible to act as anything but a fool in love next to this female, this goddess in gold. Bryce caught his eye with a sympathetic look, surprisingly fraternal for a male that never seemed to like him all that much.
“If you’ll excuse us, I have political allies to threaten and alcohol to drink,” Carina drawled. She leaned in to kiss Rhia’s cheek, ignoring or delighting in the additional attention the action brought on from the crowd. “I’m sure we’ll have the chance to get to know each other better in a less stressful situation.”
“I’d like that,” Rhia replied with a smile.
She turned to face Eris as the other couple disappeared into the crowd, and he took the opportunity to scan her face for some sort of reaction.
“I find it hard to imagine how you two even became friends,” she teased. “I don’t know if most rooms are large enough to hold both of your egos and snark.”
Eris sighed and pulled her back towards him. “The two of you are a terrible combination for my sanity. I would promise she’s less...everything one-on-one, but she’s basically always like that.”
Rhia pouted. “Poor, sensitive High Lord. I should have guessed you’d find a way to complain about having friends.”
He let out a groan, holding back some choice words about how annoying all his friends tended to be. She looked far too perfect in his arms, in his palace, in this moment to think about anyone else. “I’m considering ending all of my friendships so I can focus only on you instead. Speaking of, will Sofi mind if I don’t give you back tonight.”
“We’ve fulfilled all of her romantic fantasies tonight.” She shot him a wink and Eris almost died. “She can live without me for one night.”
“An entire night?” he asked tentatively, hoping he hadn’t misconstrued her demeanor.
They had somehow migrated to the outer edge of the dancing area, further from the noise of the orchestra. Rhia dropped one of his hands to snatch a glass of sparkling wine from a passing tray.
He watched her take a sip. “Let’s think about this,” she mused. “I could go back to my small, lonely house tonight. Or, I could demand a private tour of the palace and spend the night in the largest, most lavish suite in the entire Court.”
Eris’ mouth suddenly felt a bit dry. “My mother has the largest suite, and I’m not sure you could beat her in a fight for it.” He attempted a sarcastic tone, but his words sounded breathlessly hopeful instead.”
Rhia took another sip. “The second-largest suite, then?”
“Wonderful choice. And I’ve heard that the resident is wonderful, too.” He scanned the room for Gerwin, knowing that the male could help them stage a subtle exit.
---
Rhia shoved her hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter threatening to burst. Gerwin had only needed one sentence from Eris to somehow cause a drunken confrontation between two ex-lovers in the front of the room, allowing the two of them to dart out a secret passageway in the back.
Eris strode ahead, never allowing his grip on her hand to falter. He tossed her a smug look over one shoulder, and Rhia was certain no one had ever looked that attractive before.
“I feel like an adolescent again,” he admitted. “I haven’t used this passageway in over a century.”
Rhia scrunched her nose. “Did you have a habit of sneaking females out of parties and into your bedroom?”
Eris snorted. “More like myself. I hate talking to people.”
Her cheeks hurt from grinning at that statement. Something about being his exception, the only new person he had befriended in far too long, warmed her heart. And if she was honest with herself, warmed some other areas of her body too.
“Here we are,” Eris announced, placing one hand on the stone wall. Rhia couldn’t identify a door or any special markings, but the wall caved open at his magic touch. She followed him into a hallway, smaller and cozier than the one she’d entered the ballroom from.
Her last time here had been under duress, and she’d barely noticed any of her surroundings. This time was different. Instead of nerves at their changing relationship or anticipation of what might come next, Rhia felt peace and ease.
The feeling only grew when Eris led her through one of the doorways, pausing just past the threshold. Everything, every piece of artwork and furniture, radiated comfort to her. She dropped his hand and stepped further into the space, taking in every last detail of the gorgeous sitting room. Someone had gotten the blood stains out of the fabric, she noted, well enough that she couldn’t smell the metallic tang.
“What are you thinking about?” Eris asked softly, running one finger down her neck to the top of her dress.
She shivered automatically, and he pulled his hand away immediately. “Sorry, I should have asked-”
“Shut up.” Rhia spun around and grabbed his chin, pulling his face down so she could silence him with a kiss. She shivered again at the taste of his tongue, and this time, Eris couldn’t possibly misinterpret the motion. He ran the same finger down her back again, while the other hand cupped her cheek. Both of their hearts raced in tandem.
He let out a small gasp when she nipped his bottom lip. Eris responded by tilting her face up and pressing light kisses down her jaw. Rhia slid her grip down to his shoulders and pulled him towards her.
“Is this alright?” he whispered against the skin of her neck.
“Yes,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as she felt his tongue dart out to taste her skin. They hadn’t explored each other beyond this point, with eager kisses and greedy hands over clothing, but the perfection of the evening spurred Rhia on. Maybe, just once, her body and mind could cooperate long enough for--
“Fuck.” She cursed as Eris’ mouth reached the top of her dress, the upper swell of her cleavage erupting in goosebumps.
He raised his head, reaching one hand up to brush her cheek again. “One word, one breath from you, and I’lll--”
She groaned in impatience. “Yes, yes, you’ll stop and we’ll have a lovely evening of riveting conversation.” Stepping away from him took all of her strength, but Rhia pulled herself out of his embrace and began walking backwards towards the door that led to his bedchamber. “But until then, promise that you’ll treat me normally. That we can try and see what happens, rather than treading so delicately we may never see progress.”
The words came out quiet and fierce. She hadn’t even fully realized it herself, how much she needed this, wanted this opportunity to push them both one step closer to intimacy. Even if that step was miniscule and they never took another step after it, Rhia would find comfort in knowing her own limits.
Most importantly, he looked entirely too irresistible tonight, entirely too fuckable, to give up now.
“I can do that.” Eris approached her slowly, not cautiously, but with predatory intent. His eyes took in her disheveled appearance, his mouth forming a broad grin at his own handiwork. He popped open the top button of his tunic.
Rhia frowned. “Stop that.” When he froze in place, she rolled her eyes. “Not everything. Just that.” She pointed at his fingers, locked around the next button. “I want to do it.”
He was on her in an instant, pressing her against the side of the doorway as he kissed her again, tongue sliding in her mouth immediately. Rhia couldn’t stop giggling as her fingers replaced his, gracelessly yanking open the row of golden knobs until she could finally run her hands down his abdomen. They shared a groan at the physical contact, the warmth of two bodies more than ready for each other.
Rhia spun in his arms, placing one of her hands against the wood frame, the other grabbing his and placing it on the back of her dress.
“Untie me,” she demanded.
Eris pressed a light kiss to the top of her spine. “Yes ma’am.”
Rhia almost cheered when her dress hit the ground and she turned back around to face him, clad only in a short, sleeveless slip. He held her hand as they stepped out of their clothing, his shirt similarly discarded.
“Bed?” Rhia inspected the linens with delight; if nothing else, those sheets would be heavenly to sleep on. She’d rather feel them against her naked body as Eris worshipped her body, though.
They shared one more heated, lingering kiss at the foot of the bed, before Eris pulled her down with him onto the duvet. Her heart sped up as her back hit the softness.
(XXX - begin TW)
And kept speeding up as he pulled her into another embrace.
And kept speeding up until her breath came out in shallow pants.
Eris sat up immediately, scooting backwards to create space between them.
“Rhia.” She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t do anything as she lay there, unmoving except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “You’re safe. You’re okay. What should I do?”
She barely heard him. Her vision had started to swim, a sure sign of oxygen deprivation setting in after a full minute of shallow breaths. She slammed her eyes shut and struggled to regain control of her breathing, aiming for deep exhales and slow inhales. Eris somehow caught on to her initial, pathetic attempts and began breathing with her, exaggerating the sound.
Seconds, minutes, or hours later, Rhia opened her eyes and thankfully didn’t see any black spots. She remained silent, quietly taking inventory of her emotions, as she reopened her senses by identifying things she could see, hear, and feel.
The entire time, Eris waited. He also lay on his back, looking straight up at the ceiling and holding his breath steady as he waited for her to come back to her body.
“Okay.” Rhia let the word slip out of her mouth. It didn’t taste like a lie. “I’m okay.”
“Can I get you water? A blanket?” Eris turned his head to face her, but otherwise remained still.
She sat up, pressing her hands against the silk, feeling it slide between her fingers. “Both, I think.” She heard him stand up off the bed and leave the room, keeping her gaze locked on the pattern of the duvet. Were those whirls flowers or flames, or just abstract?
“Here.” Rhia glanced up and saw him standing a few feet away from her, holding a glass of water in his outstretched hand. She hated how much she needed that physical distance between them, and felt nauseous when she had to maneuver her hand around the glass to avoid touching his hand as she took it.
Fucking trauma.
XXX (end TW)
Eris still did not move closer. “I brought this too.” He showed her the long, heavy dressing gown draped over his opposite arm. The fabric would cover her body completely, both physically and visually. She also hated how relieved she was to cover herself up.
“Thank you.” The stiff words did nothing to ease the tension in the room. “Thank you, for all of it.” Rhia let out a humorless laugh. “You can say I told you so now.”
Eris’ jaw dropped, then tightened. “Rhia. That’s not, I wouldn’t even,” he sputtered, arms crossing his chest. “How can you say that?”
“Because you did tell me so,” she pointed out. “Or at the very least, suggested we should stop. It’s my fault, really, for pushing.” She tried, really tried, to keep her tone as light as her words, but self-doubt crept in nonetheless.
“Can I sit?” She nodded, and he joined her on the bed, careful to keep a safe distance. “You wanted to try. I wanted to give you anything and everything. No one’s at fault.”
Rhia groaned and grabbed a pillow to shove over her face. She was feeling much better, but unfortunately the ebbing panic left more room for frustration. “I was doing fine, everything was just fine, until…”
“Until?” Eris prompted her. “Was it something I did?”
“No,” she replied firmly. “No, I think it was the sheets. Or lying on the bed.” Rhia placed the pillow on her lap. She thought back to the moment before the fear set in, carefully parsing her mind without returning to the actual panic itself. “Something about hitting the bed with my back, definitely.”
“Ok. We won’t do that again.” Eris held his hands up, adding hastily, “not that we have to do anything again, of course, but in case we do find ourselves in a similar situation, then, we’ll try something else.”
Rhia threw the pillow at him. “Don’t go soft on me now. We will be trying again.” He caught the pillow and opened his mouth to reply. “And keep whatever lewd joke you’re about to make about going soft to yourself,” she snapped.
“A High Lord is better than ‘hard’ jokes,” he retorted. “How would you like the rest of the night to go?”
Something about the way he kept asking her questions helped ground her, forcing her to remain in the moment. Rhia considered his words, her options, and answered.
“I fear the night’s come to an end. I’m exhausted.”
Eris magicked a shirt and stood. “There’s a guest suite, then, right through-”
“No. I’d like to stay here.”
She could do that, at least. His bed was enormous and his scent was everywhere, reminding her of safety and comfort and protection. Rhia also had no desire to go to some guest suite, a room that probably held a manner of guests she didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about.
She watched him consider her words, running a hand through his tangled hair. “Obviously, I’m fine with that. How can we set that up properly?”
And so, they fell asleep together, in the same bed for the first time. There had to be a pillow barrier between them and one lantern lit in the corner to keep the room from fully succumbing into darkness, but they did it. Rhia liked that, having this small victory to look back on.
Right as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, she felt something come down the bond. Something shiny, something hopeful, something that told her they’d have endless tomorrows filled with countless small victories.
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sooibian · 4 years
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Stranger Things (1)
Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader ft. Kyungsoo
Genre: Fluff, meet cute, non-idol AU
Description: While waiting to receive Kyungsoo at the airport you run into an insufferable someone - Byun Baekhyun. Despite yourself, you are unable to resist his charms.
A/N: No BaekSoo, no life. Know BaekSoo, know life. This is a highly self indulgent oneshot because I simply cannot resist bobohu anymore. Also if I edit, I’ll never upload. So please, bear with this unedited mess and bad humor (: and try not to hate on OC! 
Word Count: ~ 2k
Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four (Final)
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gif credits: @x-exo​
“He’s a lawyer”, you tilted your head to the side with your nose in the air, foolishly waving your platinum band bearing hand in his general direction. Byun Baekhyun, the man you’d met barely thirty minutes ago, had managed to bring out your inner “chatty Cathy” while eyeing you with the slightest of the smirks tugged at his lips. It was nauseating. The smirk, his bouffant persona, the way he slurped his ramen, his unkempt fake blond hair - he insisted on running a hand though the annoying yet bountiful tousle ever so often  - disheveling it further. One glance at his showy Rolex and you’d written him off as a wealthy fop. Yet, here you were, seated in front of him, trying to make sense of the situation. 
Kyungsoo’s flight was delayed by over an hour. Although you wanted nothing more than to find the inviting comfort of your bed, you decided to keep your promise of picking him up from the airport. Even if it meant spending time with this strange (literally and figuratively) man. You were no night owl. Therefore, you needed the caffeine fix to stay conscious so you huddled to the coffee shop closest to the arrival gate only to run into him again. The single vacant seat happened to be on his tiny table which he graciously put up for offer - I’m Byun Baekhyun. And I don’t bite! Apart from the unbridled desire to prick his inflated ego with a needle, you realized you’d come on a bit too strong earlier when he mistakenly put his hand on yours while going for the same copy of Forbes in the magazine kiosk. Was he apologetic then? No. Not really. But you didn’t have to pull an ugly face and call him a creep. Sure, lack of sleep made you crabby but you shouldn’t have taken it out on him. It wasn’t your best moment. 
You took the seat because (a) never had a person made you feel so conflicted about them. Always too quick to judge, within a few moments you could tell whether you liked someone or absolutely didn’t care about them. But with him you honestly couldn’t figure out whether you loathed him or were in absolute awe of his unabashed demeanor (b) you wanted to make absolutely unnecessary amends. 
“What was his name, again?”, stretching and yawning he leaned back in his chair. His shoulders widened to full glory. Lazily, he ran a hand over his chest. Realization hit you like a truck. You were blatantly staring and he’d caught you in the act. Your eyes met his and it made you want to punch that stupid, now very prominent, smirk off of his face. It was time for damage control. Attack, after all, is the best defense.
“Looks like you’re bored. I shall stop”, you said tersely, moving to quickly grab your things.
“It’s 2:45 a.m. Can you blame me?”, he yanked your wallet out of your hand and shoved it in his back pocket, “Continue the story”
“Yahhhhh, give me back my wallet”, you glowered at him.
“Story first”, he sang pulling the wallet out and waving it at you. “Yahhh!”, as you lunged forward, he instinctively drew further back. Frowning, he suddenly ducked under the table.
“What - what happened?”, a quizzical expression clouded your face.
“I’m looking for something”, he mumbled rising gradually. Was that a pout?
“Yah, I can tell. What are you looking for?”
“Your manners. You seem to have suddenly dropped them somewhere”
 You felt your face flame, “Byun Baekhyun-ssi!”
“Please, you can call me oppa”
“I may be older, you know?”
“Your cheeks tell an entirely different story”, he chuckled
Fuming, you untied your hair in a desperate attempt to frame your perfectly round face, “Doh Kyungsoo”, you deadpanned.
“Byun Baekhyun”, confused, he pointed at himself.
“Doh Kyungsoo, my fiance”
“Ah… Sounds as boring as ‘civil lawyer’”
“How did you know?? I don’t remember mentioning -”
“Ha! So he is a civil lawyer! So what do your dates look like? Haunting worn down museums? Marvelling over runes?”, he swayed dreamily, eyelids fluttering.
Your saccharine smile didn’t reach your eyes, “Byun Baekhyun-ssi, what do your dates with your girl look like?”
You were surprised to see a genuine smile grace his face. Albeit unconsciously, you mirrored him. It was warm and luminous, his smile, and you were enchanted.
“Ahem”, the ridiculous smirk came back on, “Dates with my Yoona?”
So, there is a girl. You felt a slight pang of jealousy. You prayed for it to not reflect in your eyes.
“My Yoona?” you gagged dramatically and he responded with an equally dramatic loud sigh.
“Let’s see….long walks by the Han river, a little after sunset.. We walk all the way up to the Namsan Tower. She looks radiant in the moonlight… just my Yoona and me...relaxing...chilling”, he smiled like a heavily infatuated thirteen year old.
“That’s a really long walk. Oppa doesn’t have a driver’s license?”, you chided.
He guffawed, “Guess you and Mr. - ?
“Doh! Mr. Doh of Doh, Gom and Associates!”, 
“Yes, you and Mr. Doh of Doh - Gom - and Associates”, his words slow, deliberate, “wouldn’t recognize romance if it danced naked in front of you. And that platinum band”, he paused, slowly shaking his head.
You drew your hand close to your chest defensively, “What about it?”
“So… a very close friend of mine got engaged recently and I went ring shopping with him. It was an intense drill. But now I know all there is to know about the right cut, hallmark, color, purity, you get the drift. And that”, he took a piteous glance at the ring.
“I could really do without the condescension”
“I’m sorry, but it looks thrift store bought”
“Baekhyun-ssi, your limited experience may have falsely led you into believing that you’re a connoisseur of platinum. But if you care to look past your high-end store shopping spree, you’ll see that this is heirloom”
“Does it have P-950 stamped on it?”
Your glare shut him up and he raised his hands in surrender. Pouting. Again.
You gawked at him in pure admiration. How could a man like that be capable of the most endearing pouts was beyond you.
“Look, I don’t know if you care about Kyungsoo but the flight should’ve landed by now and I don’t want to keep my friend waiting after a red eye flight… so”, he got up to leave and you hurriedly followed suit, “it was an absolute pleasure meeting you”
Your hand met his in a firm handshake which neither of you cared to break for a good thirty seconds. You knew you’d never see this man again and you felt a certain unpleasantness wash over you at the thought. 
His captivating grin made an appearance, accelerating your heartbeat.
You exited the coffee shop first and when you turned around to look for him, he was gone.
***
You greeted Kyungsoo with a punch in the shoulder, “You’re late”
“I tried but they wouldn’t let me into the cockpit”, he said pinching your ear with one hand and twisting your arm with the other.
You successfully managed to wiggle of his strong grasp and attack him with a bear hug, “I’ve missed you”
He softly patted your head before your show of affection started to smother him. Breaking out of your hug he teased, “Tsk, tsk, you’ve grown soft”
“Can you blame me? My best friend moved to a strange city to farm! He’s not been around much to toughen me up” You didn’t care that he hated it. You leaned in to hug him, anyway, “any progress on the land dispute?”
“I’ll be seeing a lawyer for it”, he indulged you by continuing to gently sway you. Apparently, he’d missed you, too.
“Hmm...a civil lawyer”, you contemplated. 
“What’s that?”
“Nothing”, you sighed pulling away from him to call a cab, “When are you seeing this lawyer”
“Right now”
“What? Kyungsoo! It’s 4 in the morning! Can’t this wait?
“No”, he deftly locked your phone, “because he also happens to be a friend of mine and he’s here and he has offered to drive us home”
“He’s here?”
Kyungsoo forced your head to take a 180 degree turn.
You froze at the sight of the blond haired man standing in front of you. Your eyes barely short of pleading, you grabbed Kyungsoo’s hand lacing your fingers with his.
Baekhyun chuckled, “Congratulations, man. I didn’t know you were engaged!”
“Engaged? No, I’m not engaged!” Kyungsoo's voice now a several notches louder.
You were quick to nudge Kyungsoo’s arm with your elbow and snicker softly, “He likes to joke when he’s tired...We’re all tired. Won’t you bring your car now, Baekhyun-ssi?”
“You two know each other?” Nothing made sense to Kyungsoo anymore.
Your feeble No was drowned by Baekhyun’s loud Yes.
“Anyway..”, Kyungsoo introduced you to Baekhyun as his best friend and it made you want to be on the next expedition to Mars. 
“And this is Byun Baekhyun. My elementary school friend”. Baekhyun handed you a business card which you accepted with trembling fingers.
Byun, Park and Associates
Byun Baekhyun
Partner
LL.M.
You were mentally prepared to go on a solo expedition to Neptune and freeze to death.
“We lost touch in high school only to meet again at Jongdae’s engagement party”
Platinum, Baekhyun mouthed when your guilt ridden eyes met his.
“And he has very kindly agreed to help me out with my case”
***
“What- What the hell was that?”, Kyungsoo hissed.
“I don’t know… at first I didn’t want him to think I was available. So I started to spin a web of lies. Then I was curious to see how far I could go, you know, without faltering. Besides, you always keep calling me a bad liar. He was just...in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess…”, you let out a huge yawn.
Kyungsoo flicked your forehead. “Couldn’t you have found someone else to be your guinea pig? It had to be my lawyer? The airport is swarming with people - ”
“AND viruses!”, you adjusted your mask pointedly, “Yet, here I am. For your ungrateful ass!”
“Soo! HELP”, you cried.
“Forget this ever happened. You’re never going to see him again, anyway”, he was dismissive of your plea.
“Soo, but I want to”, you said in a small voice.
Kyungsoo was too dumbfounded to speak. His eyes did all the talking.
“I want to see him again”, you avoided his eyes.
Still, nothing.
“It’s a crisis situation, Soo!”, defeated, your face slumped into his chest, “I think I’m in love with a man who apparently has a girlfriend and most probably thinks that I’m a pathological liar.”
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bygosscarmine · 3 years
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W: Worlds Apart - Volume 4: Worlds Estranged
Kang Chul X Oh Yeon Joo - Fix-It Fic (T)
Read from beginning or find previous chapters here: Stories
All that’s left to write together is an epilogue.
Chapter 131 - Oh Yeon Joo and Kang Chul Have A Future (1560 words)
On Monday morning, Seok Bum stuck his head into the office and said, "Oh, hey Yeon Joo. Been a bit since I saw you here."
He sat at his desk, and started to write an e-mail, then stopped and peered at her.
"Are you...humming? Did something good happen?"
And Yeon Joo knew she was blushing, but she wasn't ashamed to say, "Yes. My beautiful friend from out of town that you didn't like hanging around Soo Bong is here now.
"Oh, congratulations!" He went back to typing for a minute.
After sending his e-mail though, he rolled his chair over to her and put an arm around her shoulders.
"Really, I'm so relieved to see you happy. We should all go get dinner sometime. I don't resent him anymore, I promise." After a pause he said, "Wait, how did you know I disliked him hanging around Soo Bong?"
"Soo Bong thought it was really funny, at the time."
Seok Bum made a disgusted noise, and wheeled himself back to his own computer. Soon after this, their productivity was again cut short by the appearance of Mad Park.
"Oh Yeon Joo, I saw a file today that made me think of your father. It's another six months before he comes in for his check-in, so I thought I'd see if you were here. How's he doing?"
"He's doing well. Did you see the release about the animated adaptation?" she added with a false air of innocence.
"That studio has produced nothing but saccharine love story comics! Absolutely not!"
"You know the rights have been picked up before, you only have to worry if it goes into production."
"No, no, no. What we need is a gritty drama, a procedural, and scrap the last volume or two. Maybe starring Won Bin!"
"Speaking of the last volume or two, Oh Yeon Joo's boyfriend who looks like Kang Chul is back," said Seok Bum, forever sowing the seeds of chaos. "That's why she's looking so well today."
Unexpectedly, Supervisor Park gave her a close look, and said, "Well, I'm glad to hear that. You've had a tough time. What's his name?"
"Kang Chul."
"Funny," said Mad Park. "Just as well."
"Why is it just as well?" Seok Bum asked. "Was there someone else you had in mind? That guy I saw MK yelling at the other day?"
"I don't want to talk about that," said Mad Park. "My spirit is broken. And I blame you as much as your father, Oh Yeon Joo!"
He walked away.
"What were you saying about MK?"
"Oh, one of Barking Mad's friends was here, but he was having an argument with MK. I think you got set up with him once. Tall guy, handsome-ish. Apparently up to MK's weight in a fight, which is really something."
Yeon Joo wasn't sure how to think about that. Clearly she needed to catch up with MK soon. She made a mental note to text her--later.
Mad Park stuck his head back in to say, "And that epilogue did not cut it by half! The script has to be by someone who will get it on track. I did like the twist with So Hee, but I hope your father read my comments about the final love-line."
"I assure you he did not," said Yeon Joo waving him away.
-
They were laying skin-to-skin, not ready to fall asleep when Chul summoned the courage to ask, "When did you first think that this might really work? Not closing W's narrative--us together."
He felt her take a breath to speak, ribs pressing a little deeper against his.
"That's a kind of complicated answer. But when you came here and were so appreciative of Soo Bong letting you stay with him, though it was not a great apartment or situation? I was relieved, because you seemed to be able to deal with real world inconveniences with grace."
"But that was nothing," he protested.
"The fact that you thought so meant a lot to me," she said, fingers gently brushing his collarbone. "I didn't know how much your privilege in W would form you."
"Ah, I see. My memories of my childhood are of a very normal home, though."
"What about you? You must be asking because you've been considering it."
"It was a process for me, too. But I have to say when you asked me firmly to let you finish eating, after sneaking into So Hee's apartment, I had this sense that I was experiencing something new and important."
She chuckled. "Yes, someone who wasn't an actual side character."
"Not just that. Even here, people look at me a certain way because of how I look. Or the expertise I have, or whatever. But you looked past that. You can see me, under the all-caps KANG CHUL of my origin."
"I'd already had a chance to become a little resistant to your face," she said, still amused.
"When we met again, after I'd gone into hiding, I understood why you were so devastated every time you met me. But you had still risked your life to help me, and you continued to do your best for me. Even being gentle when I fell in love with you, though it was such a hard thing for you to deal with."
"Was I kind?" she mused.
"Yes," he said firmly. "Because you didn't run away. You were honest with me."
"Looks like it all paid off on my end."
He accepted that she was not going to see herself as a hero in any way, and didn't protest again. It was enough that he'd let her know.
"In case you're tempted to cast yourself in the light of the sole beneficiary," she said after a moment, "what we went through together, all this time, gave me a fresh start. When I saved your life I was on hiatus from medicine and not sure I'd ever go back to it. I didn't remember creating a character that then became so popular, and I didn't know what I was capable of in hard circumstances. This story saved me, too."
"Then it's worth it, and I'm glad," Chul said.
His love in his arms, he listened to the erratic pulse of cars and city life, real and alive.
End Notes, from Park Soo Bong:
When I first set out to write the story of Kang Chul and Oh Yeon Joo, I planned to set the record straight. I realized eventually that even with first-hand accounts and raw material to draw from, I was creating yet another version of the truth. It was a little bit more story than real in some parts, because it made a great narrative. I hope you enjoyed the story you read, and it answers a few questions you might have had.
And now, since it is a story, just like W the comic I'll leave you with the fitting conclusion:
EPILOGUE
Understandably, all those involved in creating W felt wary of continuing work in manhwa after this and moved into different fields.
Park Soo Bong worked as a consultant on new comics under Editor Kim until he sold his first novel. Acclaimed as psychological horror with vivid settings and relatable characters, it sold well, and he is known a prolific writer with a knack for subverting expectations, sometimes with surrealist twists.
Oh Seung Moo's retirement from comics was considered dubious by the general public after the several false ends of his webtoon, but he never released any more material. He created a blog where he reviewed comics which enjoys a modest readership. His die-hard fans loved it while his detractors noted he seemed more focused on aesthetics than substantive writing. Nevertheless, his words of appreciation have encouraged many a new creator in a tough business.
Kang Chul got the job at the publishing house that sold his manhwa using an assumed name. He did well in management and eventually started his own division specializing in true crime and cold case books. He did particularly well interfacing with television companies, and a contract with his imprint was considered a foot in the door for adaptation. After getting more established, he also founded a prize in literature for investigative writing, with a clear mission to vindicate the falsely accused or expose those who escaped justice.
Oh Yeon Joo continued to work in diagnostics and post-surgery support rather than operations at Myung Se until Barking Mad Park recommended her to a colleague at the university who was doing a paper on traumatic impact of emergency surgery on hospital workers. Discovering this field of inquiry was a light-bulb moment. She studied counseling, became licensed, and specializes in medical trauma for both patients and medical personnel.
A year after registering their marriage, Oh Yeon Joo and Kang Chul had a small wedding at which both her parents, Mad Park, MK, Park Soo Bong and Kang Seok Bum were present. There were no arguments or gunshots or even tears, barring Yeon Joo's mother's slight emotional moment saying goodbye to the couple on their way back home. (She tentatively likes Kang Chul, mainly because Yeon Joo is happier now, and partly because her daughter isn't getting any younger.)
And while they still live today, in our world, they are all very happy to have made it to The End.
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msilwrites · 4 years
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Only One Lives, Chapter 20
A/N: Chapter 20 is up! still NSFW!
Sorry for updating late guys, I have tons of paperwork, it makes me cry... LOL. It was hard, and I was having writer’s block due to the stacks of work. 
Still, I love writing! I consider it my release, which is why here is the next chapter  :D :D :D :D!!
                                                     Only One, Lives
                                                          TWENTY                                                              Bluff
The ‘escape’ to Shanghai had not been an easy one. A lot of things have happened before she got to where she is now. 
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Sitting near her window whilst looking outside, the night time view of the bund looked beautiful and the lights of the tall skyscrapers reflected on the surface of the river.  
After everything that had happened, she had no regrets taking Iseler’s work offer, jumping on that plane and escaping to Shanghai. But who knows when will Godfrey find her again, and ruin everything. For now, she will treasure these moments of freedom. 
Dinner was served via room service, the staff places each plate on top of the small table and the aroma of the dishes made her mouth water. 
She thanks the staff, giving them a generous tip before they left her room. Looking at her wristwatch, in a few hours time, the new year will be approaching soon, and there will be a grand fireworks display across the river, at the side of the Pearl tower. Pulling the curtains wider, the full view of the harbour came into view.
She places her chair in an angle where she can see the view whilst eating, but instead of starting her long-awaited meal, she pauses and stares at the view, contemplating. The past few years had been hard, Godfrey had ‘chased’ her non-stop. There were many things that had happened. It was a good thing that Iseler was there. He didn’t ask why or what happened, he just knew she was troubled and he was willing to help. When she told him not to mention anything to Leonard at all, he respected her choice and listened to her. Oh, how blessed she was with Iseler! She felt a tinge of regret upon remembering him. There were times that he hinted his fondness of her. But she did not respond, nor did she do anything about it. In her mind, it was for the best. She couldn’t bear tainting Iseler’s life. 
Leonard... he, on the other hand, started to become suspicious of her, no longer trusting her. And she was very sure Godfrey played a part in Leonard’s suspicion. 
The last time she talked to him, he was a bit aggressive, as if he was interrogating her, despite them not being an official couple yet. She didn’t know what for, but he got a little bit physical. Grabbing her wrist and shoulder so tightly that it bruised.
She pushes her finished plate aside and drinks her warm drink. After eating, she thought of going out despite the cold weather to watch the fireworks at the balcony bar of the hotel. It was six degrees outside, and she needed all the warmth she could get in this cold weather, despite it only being physical.
                                                            **********
                                                       =FLASHBACK=
Godfrey chuckled and appeared composed despite Annabelle’s threat. He knew she was bluffing because if that wasn’t the case, she would’ve pulled the trigger and killed him by now.
He sauntered forward and she backed away in response. Her body, trembled in fear, giving her away. When he reached for her wrist, she quickly pulled the trigger. However, the bullet flew to another direction and hit something else. In a mere second, Godfrey disarms her, followed by the gun’s bullets dropping on the floor.
“Oh, Annabelle...” he whispered, pulling her close whilst her body shuddered. His hand travelled to the crook of her neck as if he wanted to break them. Perhaps he does, and this would be the end of her. She closed her eyes and prepared herself for what was about to come. A tear escaping down her eye. However, much to her surprise. he just caressed her face and kissed her on the temple.
“You do that again, and I won’t be as merciful the next time...” he warned in a saccharine tone. He brushes his hand on the strands her hair and slides them to the back of her ears. “I suggest that you behave yourself...” 
Despite the threat,  Godfrey’s has no intention of ‘physically’ hurting her. 
                                                            ********** 
Annabelle shuddered remembering the encounter with Godfrey after the flower show. She thought she was going to die. Up to this day, she couldn’t imagine how she had survived. She is aware that Godfrey does love her, in his own twisted sort of way. All those times she had spent and was held captive by him, he cared and showed her love that she never had. But she has never forgotten Betty, Emma, and Agatha. No, She couldn’t risk the possibility of being like them. No, It would break her heart if she loses Godfrey’s affections.  She was not willing to risk becoming like the girl that came before Betty, and Betty when Emma came into the picture. She can’t bear becoming the Emma, who was either being hunted or being a captive. Nor can she bear having children with him, and becoming like Godfrey’s mother, Agatha, who lost her husband’s affection and used his children as pawns. 
She heaved a sigh as she turned her attention to the crowd who began counting until the new year strikes.
“ 5! 4! 3! 2! 1!”
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!” The crowd said in unison as a beautiful fireworks display lights up the midnight sky. Afterwards, all the guest, despite being strangers, clinked their glasses and made a toast.
“Happy New Year!” Annabelle greets the waiter as he hands her a drink. The waiter smiles before walking off to another direction to distribute the rest that was on his tray. 
Looking around, she saw some of them happily making calls or sending messages to most probably the special people in their lives. She thought for a while and thought of the people she had wanted to greet. There was Philip, and then her cousin, Terrence, and of course, Iseler and his daughters. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have a lot of special people. So without any hesitation, she takes out her phone and makes an overseas call. 
It was still 4:00 ++ pm in London, but it never meant that she couldn’t greet them. She doesn’t call Philip, knowing the less he knows, the safer he would be, but she first calls her cousin, Terrence instead. But after repeated rings. He hasn’t picked up. Knowing what a busy guy her cousin is, she decides to move to the next person which is Iseler. 
After a few rings, Iseler picks up the call...
                                                           **********
It was 4:00 in the afternoon when Iseler felt his phone vibrate inside his suit’s pocket. Looking at the caller ID, she smiled upon seeing the letter ‘A’ indicated. Of course, he didn’t want anyone to know, (especially Leonard) that he knows where Annabelle is. Nor he is the one that helped her escaped. Escaped from who or what, he doesn’t know what. All he knew that she was begging for escape and he needed to help her. 
Looking around his surroundings he answers the call casually, pretending that the call was from the office. He didn’t know if he was being paranoid or what, but despite currently being in a cocktail party with countless people, Leonard was just around the corner and he didn’t want the later finding out that Annabelle was calling him.
“Happy New Year! Iseler!” was a joyful greeting from the other side of the line.
Iseler smiles and replied “Happy New Year too! hold on for a second!” he takes and quick glance and sees Leonard talking to the Westwood heir, from a distance, both eyeing him suspiciously. “Excuse me for a minute, I need to answer this, just some office issues...” he says to them from across the room, before walking to an empty balcony and staring at the winter sky.
“Happy New Year, Annabelle!” he greets her once more. 
“Thank you!” she says. “Where are you by the way? are the girls around?”
“No, they aren’t, I’m currently at a cocktail party,” he says quietly.
“Is he around?”
“Yes...” he whispers.
“No wonder... I called you at the wrong time I-”
“No, no, no, it’s fine Bella... I’m actually glad to hear from you! How are you? how are the fireworks over there?” he asks, using his term of endearment for her, ‘Bella’ which means ‘Beautiful’ in Latin, and which also happens to be the other half of her name. 
“I’m well! better than before... I hope you are doing well too, Iseler... How are the girls?” she asks, eager to know how he and his daughter were doing. After all, she had left London months ago.
“They’re currently at home, you can give me a call two hours from now because I’ll be home by that time and then you can talk to the girls,” he says, leaning against the called wall.  
“Thank you, Iseler...” she smiles. “The fireworks were grand as you said... I wished I could see it with you and the girls” she adds, as she yearned to share the experience with him and his daughters.
“That’s good, I hope you will continue having a great time there. If you took a video of the fireworks, you send and share them with me...” he encourages. 
“I did and I would... I’d probably send them to you when I get back to my hotel room...” she adds, knowing that it was faster sending things when in her room because the internet was faster there. 
Suddenly, she hears two loud taps coming from Iseler’s side. Which also meant, someone was there around the corner listening.
“He’s there... isn’t he?” Annabelle guessed.
“Yes...” was his serious reply, whilst watching Leonard come out of the glass door and calling him. 
“Don’t bring your work to the party!” Leonard chides Iseler playfully which Annabelle heard over the phone.
“Go ahead, Iseler... I will just talk to you later,” she says, a little disappointed that they didn’t get to talk long enough.
“Alright... later then,” he said, as he cuts the call and goes back inside the vicinity.
As Iseler enters goes back inside the room, he saw the Westwood heir, Godfrey, eyeing him suspiciously. Iseler didn’t know why, but he has this gut feeling that this man had something to do with Annabelle’s current situation. Not wanting to be suspicious to both Leonard and Godfrey, Iseler tries to lighten up the mood by saying something funny, making the people at the table laugh.
Godfrey chuckles and takes a sip of his drink. He didn’t know what he was doing here, or why did he even agree to come. All he knew that Gabriel ‘dragged’ him to this cocktail party and that he needed to ‘babysit’ him. All he wanted was to leave the place and go back to continue his search for Annabelle. The hunt excited him, because of that he was more enamoured with her than ever,  but it also frustrated the hell out of him.  All he wanted now is to get her back. But upon seeing Iseler, Annabelle’s boss, Godfrey figured out that the man might have the answers of her whereabouts. The cocktail party started to become more tolerable for Godfrey. He began to craft a plan in his head, that before this party ends, he will get all the answers he wanted. And he will have to subtly extract it from this man called, Iseler. No, he didn’t plan on hurting him. But there were other ways, and Leonard was the perfect pawn for that.
A/N:  Again, sorry for the late update, I will be soft editing as I may have made some grammatical errors. I will soon fill in the holes about the time gap (which was Annabelle’s escape) in the next chapters. 
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evien-stark · 5 years
Text
✧I Need You✧ Chapter 20 [19% - Begin: Iron Man 2]
Despite all the obstacles in your way, time being the biggest one and sadly so since it was impossible to fight against, you found your way through the mess that Tony had laid out for you. Stark Expo was opening tonight and everything felt like it was right in place. He’d done as he said he would and cut back on outgoing missions so that he could spend time helping you clean up and prepare and fix- although it still didn’t stop him from spending long hours in the lab.
You’d fussed over his bow tie, nerves getting the better of you. It was strange how many huge events you’d attended and opened for him and yet every single one was always fraught with challenges. You never felt settled. Maybe that was how you kept your edge. “Should we put a bow tie on the suit, too?”
“Now’s not the time to try and be cute.” You were still miffed he hadn’t come to any dress rehearsals, because as he put it, all I have to do is fall out of the sky and onto a platform.
“I saw what the dancers are wearing. You think you could sneak one of those home?”
Finished prepping him, and because now was the perfect time, you took one of the fairground pamphlets in hand and smacked him on the side of the head. “Can you be serious for even one minute?”
His hands came to your shoulders. “My limit is thirty seconds.” Almost quite literally leaning in to steal a kiss before he wisely stepped far away to get into Iron Man. You left well enough alone.
The Expo was already flooded with people by the time you got back there an hour later and you knew you didn’t have to worry about Tony boarding his jet to be taken overhead. It seemed a little overplayed, over priced too. If he could just take himself up and come back down, but it was Tony after all. He wanted an extremely flashy entrance.
It was why girls in teeny-tiny Iron Man booty shorts and crop tops with LED lights on their palms and boots worked up a sweat on stage as Shoot To Thrill boomed over the speakers. “Start fireworks over main stage.” You were pacing in the back, barking orders into your headset. This all had to go perfect, not because a slip up would bother Tony, but it would bother you.
You hadn’t busted your ass this hard for it to all fall apart now.
The pilot taking Tony in crackled over your transmission, “270 at 30 knots holding steady at 15,000 feet. You are clear for exfiltration over the drop zone.”
“All you, Tony.” You had no idea if he was even listening, peering up from your spot behind the front curtain to look up at the night sky.
Illuminated among huge bursts of color you could see him coming in hot- ...and tried to ignore that he may or may not have gotten hit with a firework. The crowd was screaming at this point, excitement overwhelming every single person in attendance. He’d been on countless dangerous missions, life threatening ones, at this point trying to do his own peace work- but this was the thing that scared you the most.
He fell right through the perfect point in the huge glass dome and landed smack center of his mark. Flash in the pan. Handful of seconds. Standing up he lifted his arms as the machine that he’d designed to take off the suit folded up from underneath the stage. You knew how hard he’d been trying to perfect a single exit delivery, but for some reason he just hadn’t gotten the specs right yet.
It didn’t matter.
The crowd was going wild as his helmet came off with the rest of the pieces, bit by bit. Tony was in his most casual element. Playing for other people. Grinning brightly, pointing a finger across the throes. The song finally started coming to its close and the dancers moved to half circle him, palms up.
Hardest part done. Blind run after no rehearsals. Beautiful.
Chants of his name along with thunderous applause lit up the night. “Oh! It’s good to be back. You missed me.” Turning away from watching him on stage, a few show runners came up to you with clipboards and other scheduling snafus that needed your attention. You tried quickly to abate them as Tony was teasing the crowd so that you could turn your full attention back to him.
He hadn’t prepped a speech either- at least, he hadn’t let you prep one for him. But what damage could he do? He’d already spilled every last secret to the world. Well. All his anyway. There was always you. Even knowing he wouldn’t dare, you pushed away an attention hungry intern as you peeked back out. Needing to keep an eye on him. To watch.
“I’m not saying that the world is enjoying it’s longest period of uninterrupted peace in years because of me.” The crowd erupted again. He spoke over them. “I’m not saying that from the ashes of captivity never has a greater phoenix metaphor been personified in human history.” Arms outstretched his head fell forward and he drowned in the people’s adoration. Only briefly, though, thank goodness, as he started moving across the stage. “I’m not saying that Uncle Sam can kick back on a lawn chair sippin’ on an iced tea because I haven’t come across anyone man enough to go toe to toe with me on my best day!”
A chill crept across your skin. No wonder he wouldn’t let you prep him. You’d have never signed off on something like that. Still inviting trouble after everything. He seemed to be melting in their praise as another chant of his name broke across. Followed by a very determined woman screaming, “I LOVE YOU TONY!”
“Please.” He waved his hand dismissively despite the fact that he was eating all of this up. “It’s not about me. It’s not about you.” Waiting a moment for the crowd to hush a little. “It’s not even about us. It’s about legacy. It’s about what we choose to leave behind for future generations. And that’s why, for the next year, and for the first time since 1974, the best and brightest-”
A touch at your shoulder interrupted your attention. You were almost ready to actually physically hit the next person who couldn’t give you five minutes to watch, but upon seeing it was Happy you calmed yourself. Now you were getting too wrapped up in Tony like everyone else. “The suit’s packed. The car’s around back.”
Despite all the planning and effort and wanting to reignite this huge thing, Tony actually hadn’t wanted to stay to witness much of it past its introduction- his introduction. You hadn’t asked why. You didn’t want to either. Being able to hand it off to the next qualified person was a delight. “Thank you. We’re gonna wait a few minutes for the crowd to thin out but we should be alright.” There would be other things to see and do and security would herd them out the other way so everything would be good.
Howard Stark’s voice rolled from the stadium speakers, an older clip welcoming people to the first ever Stark Expo all those years ago. Looking up you’d missed Tony’s exit across the other side of the stage. Of course he had no idea he was supposed to come see you on the right side, since he’d never once asked. Didn’t matter, you tried to tell yourself, as you walked around back.
Approaching him, his back turned to you, there was a slight flutter of anxiety. Maybe, like you, these things were still hard for him, too. Crazy to think about. Carefully you laid a hand to his shoulder. “You did great out there.” He shifted, hand easing out from his suit jacket to grab hold of the water bottle Happy was offering to him.
“Can’t ask for more than perfection.” Easy smile on his face. Lifting the cap of the bottle he took a long sip, exhaling loudly after. “I need to get into something a little more inconspicuous- you mind?”
You weren’t sure who he was asking, but Happy took the cue to put his hands up and walk himself backwards. “The dressing room is right over here.” He still seemed a little jittery. It felt unwise to leave him completely alone.
Once inside, you handed him the black button up and vest you’d brought, all pristine in its dry-cleaning plastic. “You know… I don’t mind you watching, but if we’re keeping up this secret, I think it looks weird my assistant just walked in here with me.” He started pulling his bow tie undone.
“Maybe they think you’re so helpless you can’t even get dressed without me.” Said sweetly with just as saccharine a smile.
He chuckled as he shed his suit jacket. “Next thing you know, everyone’s gonna be saying you’re the one in the suit with that kind of attitude.”
“Hm, Iron Lady does have a sophisticated ring to it.” Immediately you knew this was a mistake.
“See- I’m glad you feel that way- because-”
Reaching up you yanked his discarded clothes from him, folding them over your arm. “Kidding, Tony. Never in a million years.” Even though you’d turned him down a few times now you had a very huge sneaking suspicion he was working on something for you down in his lab.
He exchanged clothes with you. “Suit yourself. Literally. If we could just work out some specs-”
“You really would just like to eat dinner by yourself, wouldn’t you?”
“Now who’s being ridiculous?” Turning to you, tugging the edges of his vest. A stunning silhouette all in black. “How do I look?”
Setting his other clothes aside you reached up to smooth the lines of his shoulders. “Looks like you’ve got a hot date.” Which was ridiculous, if the two of you were really intent on keeping this a secret (that you thought no one was buying at this point), going out to dinner together after a hugely televised event was the worst thing to do.
But he had asked, and so…
“Yeah. I do.”
Damn him.
Leaning up on tiptoe, you grounded yourself with your palms on his shoulders, risking a short but satisfying kiss. At this point it was clear the two of you were playing it fast and loose. It was rare you’d appear at any event without one another, and while it was easy to say it was just because you were his assistant and kept his life together…
Part of you wanted to announce it. To have it known.
But the other part was terrified.
A knock at the door broke the two of you apart and you went to gather his things. Happy poked his head in. “Ready to go?”
“Already?” There was no way things were quiet outside yet.
But Tony grabbed your free hand. “Yeah, let’s hit it.” And at your disapproving look, “What? They’re gonna hang out there all night anyway. Might as well just brave the frenzy and be free.”
Frenzy was right. Out of the safety of the back stage, hundreds of voices called out as Happy tried to get the two of you through crazed people all pulling and pushing for a piece of Tony. Women and men alike trying to whisper to him, phone and hotel numbers all the same. But he did stop briefly to sign a few autographs for some kids waiting on the stairs. Say a few passing hellos to some fellow developers and celebrities…
It felt endless. And you really would have liked to have waited so as to not be bombarded with all of it. But in moments the thick air of the night greeted you outside, and the noises died to a hush as the doors closed behind you, security keeping people from crossing out after.
“I brought the new model up.” The R8 Spyder. Brand new, in fact, at Tony’s request that it be here. Flashy for his own sake, and you’d noticed a growing trend of him getting attached to that particular model. Sleek, silver, and convertible. Perfect for a night out on the town in this muggy weather.
“Beautiful. She come with it?” Finally out of your thoughts once you heard him ask this, you saw a woman leaning against the car.
Very quickly you were thrust into full alert, dropping his hand and stepping forward. You tried not to let the thrum of amused pride wafting from Tony get the better of you. “Can I help you?” Why had security let her out here? Why had they let her wait?
“I’m hoping so.” She pushed away from the car to come a few steps closer, papers tucked under her arm.
“You got a name?” Tony seemed entirely nonchalant about the whole thing.
“Marshall.” Happy moved around her as she answered, opening the top of the car and taking the rest of Tony’s clothes from you to stow them in the trunk. Clearly he was just as unbothered.
“Irish. I like it.” All charm. It kind of bugged you. Tony was still very used to getting cozy with all sorts.
“I don’t. What do you want?” After all, if this was some sort of corporate nonsense, maybe someone mad they were kicked off the guest list, it was your job to handle it.
“I want to give him something.” Voice soft. But you weren’t buying it.
“I’m on the wheel.” Tony stepped aside the scuffle to get into the driver’s seat. He was intent on leaving, it seemed, so you got into the passenger side with him. Happy went around, rethinking getting into his car, standing by to see what would come of this. Tony looked up at her again. “What are you giving me?”
“A subpoena.” Holding the paper out to him.
Dread struck through you as Tony made a face. “Yikes.”
You bristled. “For what?”
“If he would just take it-”
“I don’t like being handed things.” Adamant. As if it would help the situation.
You reached up to yank it from her, reading over the top words as she spoke them aloud. “You are hereby ordered to appear before the Senate Armed Services Committee tomorrow morning at 9 A.M.”
“You can’t serve subpoenas for a court date that’s twelve hours from now- in a different state.” Glaring up at her. No. This was absolutely not happening. They couldn’t just bully Tony to come to a senate hearing.
“He can take the suit.” Playing coy. If that was really their angle, it would have mitigated the legality of sufficient time for him to get there.
Tony looked up at her. “Can I see a badge?” Of course. You should have asked for the same thing. Now he was doing your job for you.
She just smiled. “You wanna see the badge?” Reaching into her pocket she got it out, waving it in front of him. “You like it?”
“Not as much as I thought I would.”
You just put your hand to your head, a sigh escaping. Turning to look up at Happy who had come to your side of the car. “How long would it take to get from here to DC?”
He made a noise of thought and then shrugged. “About 250 miles... Four hours and change.”
“Still time for dinner, then.” Tony said suddenly, revving the engine to a start and pulling out in a sudden screech of wheels.
Hurriedly you pulled your seat belt on as wind whipped around you. Taking out your phone was the next step. “I’ll make some calls-” Who could you call? A lawyer, first of all. There was no way the government was just going to drop a surprise like this on you without complete and total recourse. Then maybe… Coulson?
His hand came up over yours, pushing your cell down. “Let’s eat. Then make some reservations somewhere in DC.”
“And drive all night?” You tried to keep above upset.
“If we put this off now, they’re just gonna keep coming. And, besides, if I don’t show up they’ll start calling me a delinquent.” It was hard to tell if he was taking this seriously or not.
But he did have a point. This wasn’t as much of a surprise as it was a shock. Those senate members had been on TV for months now pissing and moaning about Iron Man. ...maybe some of them had a point, but you would keep that to yourself. You’d even combated with more news anchors than you would have liked, defending Tony’s name. Iron Man’s name.
You had just been sort of hoping that would be all it was. And that they wouldn’t do something like this. Because the next step, probably, was breaking down the door to the lab and seizing the suits. And you really wouldn’t know what to do then.
“Relax. Don’t let them get you angry. That’s what they want.” It wouldn’t prove useful to show up to a hearing in a huff, that was for sure. It would only be broadcast on every news station for the next few days how you let your emotions get the better of you in defense of your vigilante boss. You could see the headlines now. “We don’t have time to put this off, so we’ll deal with it now and then go about our lives.”
Just be easier to get it done now, he was saying. You guessed he was mostly right… And if he was intent on doing it anyway, there was nothing you could do to stop him. You ended up shaking your head. “Alright. I’ll do some research on the drive up. Try and see what they’ve got.” It was extremely obvious they were going to argue with him about whether or not Iron Man was a weapon, and for that reason that a private citizen should not own it. But they must have had something that finally pushed them to this point.
His hand moved to give your leg a squeeze. “I said relax. You’ve been busting your ass for this Expo and I don’t need you overworking yourself now that it’s over.”
At this you really couldn’t hold back a roll of your eyes. “Work still goes on Tony. If it wasn’t this, it was something else.”
“But it doesn’t have to be this and something else.” Being pedantic at this point.
Leaning over, you rested your head against his arm. That was just it, though. “There’s always more.” No end in sight. Tired, you closed your eyes.
“Yeah.” His voice was a million miles away.
                              ----------------------------------------------------
 Tony had gone out for food which both annoyed you and was equally fine. After deciding it was just easier to make the drive now, you’d ended up canceling the dinner reservations and going home to pack an overnight bag. A little under four hours of driving time as the roads were mostly clear- and Tony had a huge problem with obeying the speed limit. Something you could hardly fault him for since he was used to going hundreds of miles an hour most days. He was otherwise a safe driver- and your mind was elsewhere, anyway.
You’d gotten a hotel room at 1:30 in the morning, trying to ignore the gushing front desk staff. Also trying to ignore their stares when you requested the suite with one bed. Easier, right? Let them talk. You’d stopped caring very recently. The media was more concerned with Tony’s activities as a superhero rather than that he was spotted everywhere with you. And booking one-bed hotel rooms with you.
The first thing once you got upstairs was offering to just call room service. But he seemed oddly buzzing with energy, not wanting to sit for a moment. You just chalked it up to the fact that he was going to be berated and questioned for hours tomorrow by the biggest assholes in the country. There would probably be no sleep tonight.
So he’d said he was going to go out for a drive and go get food. And then he was gone.
You were in your PJs, cross-legged on the overly large bed with your laptop open when he came back. “Are you still working? I told you to cut that out.”
Looking up from your screen, you spotted the three brown bags he had in hand as he approached. “...did you bring back Burger King?” Of course he had. You should have gone with him.
“Only thing open.” For one reason or another you doubted this. But it didn’t really matter in the end. He came to sit on the side of the bed, dumping the first bag’s contents out. Burgers. Lots of them. Immediately he started unwrapping one and took a huge bite. “You gonna put that away or am I gonna have to take it from you?”
You couldn’t help the laugh. “Now you’re starting to sound like me.”
“All things considered, not the worst thing in the world.” The burger was already gone. His hand came up to shut the lid of your laptop. “I’m serious. Eat something. Please.”
At this point you were too tired to fight. You were also sure you’d found everything you were going to find. So going into the second bag you pulled a chicken sandwich out and took a few bites. “So… Justin Hammer is here.”
“Here? We’ll have to get a different hotel.” Offended at the very thought.
You grinned. “I don’t know if here, here. But he’s in the area. It’s likely they’re going to pull him as an expert.”
Tony scoffed. “An expert at what? Failure? Brown nosing?”
“Weapons.” Despite how true it all was, you tried to keep on task. “He’s on their payroll.” Having picked up a very nice weapons contract after Tony had pulled out. Memories of him bothering you in that airport bar touched the back of your brain.
“And he never even sent us a Christmas card for that.” Wonderful gift that it had been. “God knows he never would have secured it on his own.”
“You have no idea.” Breathing out a tired sigh just as you finished up your sandwich.
He raised a brow, starting in on his third burger. “Enlighten me.”
Now was not a very good time for this. But now there’d be no getting out of it. And so… “When you first announced to the world you were pulling out of weapons, he stalked me to an airport bar and asked me to give him abandoned schematics.”
“You-...” Tony seemed shocked. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” But very quickly he was shaking his head with a big smile. “And here I thought I knew the bottom to his well of shame. You were holding out on me.” Waggling his finger your way.
“He insisted we were old friends and took issue with me questioning his sanity over it.” You unwrapped another sandwich, sharing a much needed laugh.
“Unbelievable. You really should have told me he was following you around, though. Could have given Happy an excuse to put him on the floor.” Going in to the last bag, he pulled two bottles of water.
One which you accepted gratefully as it was handed to you. “Please.” Offended. “I could snap Justin Hammer over my knee.”
“Yes you could. I’d love to see it, too.” A little raise of his brows in enjoyment of the implication.
“No.” You chastised. “I’m not going to assault Justin tomorrow.”
“Come on. Just a little light assault? We could all use a laugh. He’ll probably thank you for the opportunity.”
You were giggling still as you leaned forward to rest your head at the back of his shoulder. “I can’t believe Iron Man is asking me to attack an innocent bystander.”
“Correction.” He held up a finger. “Tony Stark is asking his girlfriend to provide some entertainment at the world’s largest jackass’ expense.”
A fuzz of warmth settled in your chest. “Well Tony Stark’s girlfriend is politely refusing to go to jail tomorrow.”
He sighed. “Oh alright. Fine.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’ll go to jail for assault tomorrow.”
Giggling still, especially as he laughed when you gave his shoulder a shove with your head, “No one is going to jail tomorrow.”
Sitting back on the bed more fully, he put an arm around you. “Good thing. I don’t do so well in captivity.”
Your hand came up to rest over his chest. “Don’t I know it.” It would have been nice to let the air settle. Maybe offer to go to bed. But there was one more thing… “Tony...”
“That sounds like bad news. Let’s wait until after the hearing tomorrow.” Sarcastic, knowing it was exactly about that.
As much as you would have liked to not do this, “Rhodey compiled a report at the Senate’s request.”
Tony’s voice was far away when he answered, “He did, huh?”
“I can’t see it right now, it’s sealed from the public. But I’m sure it’s as fair as he could make it.” Being asked to do it, there would be no way for Rhodey to say no without jeopardizing himself. You had to believe in the best for him. “I think because of all this they’re going to make the case you shouldn’t have the suit.” They were going to try very hard. “I mean- not that you couldn’t have figured that out.” Backing out of any credit here. This had been a hot topic for months. It was obvious that’s what the hearing was about.
He gave you a little squeeze. “I’m not going in there completely blind, at least.” Then he shrugged, easing out a deep breath. “Better to get this over with now. Maybe they’ll stop bugging you on TV about it.”
You smiled softly. “If I’m lucky.”
“I’d say you’re not doing half bad.”
“Me either. And just for the record, rebuffing news anchors on your behalf is one of the easier parts of my job. Wouldn’t change it for the world.” Defending him wasn’t always easy, it never had been. Before all this or after. “I’d do it every day, if I had to.” As long as it meant something.
He was quiet for much longer than you expected. “You won’t.” Dwelling on that, perhaps.
Just a tiny, teeny tiny, sliver of unease settled. “Got big plans to tell everyone off tomorrow? Just please at least try to be professional.” He must have just been thinking it over. It was going to be a tough day.
“I’ll do my best.”
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malarkis · 5 years
Text
Mercy
As requested by a dear friend of my, here’s an old fic I wrote about Willhelm and a few other familiar faces from the usual militia lot. I hope you all enjoy ; u ;
The sound of gunfire and canons blasted through the canvas walls of the medical tent as the two surgeons and their assistants rushed about, aiding to the wounded and the dying.  The men ran about, cutting and stitching as fast as their hands and minds could fathom, but sadly not as fast as the injured were being carried in by the minute.  The medical tent was just as much hell as the battle that raged outside.  Blood puddled on cots and soil, filling the air with its pungent, metallic miasma.  It was more than most could bare, but Percy and Willhelm did all in their power to make it work.
Usually, the two men would’ve worked separately.  Though equals in their field, the two were far from companions outside of their professional work.  A slight rivalry bloomed between them, no doubt stemming from their opposing work methods.  Willhelm was methodical and organized, although a bit too rigid in the eyes of his more radical colleague.  Much to Willhelm’s dismay, Percy was more unorthodox in his ways.  He was a brilliant man, that much the other would admit, but far too much of a maverick in his field.  The two butted heads endlessly, and they were more than thankful when their commanding officer agreed to let them work separately - Percy for the higher ups and Willhelm for the cavalrymen.  Today, however, was an exception. The sweat dripped off of  Willhelm’s forehead as he put the final stitch on yet another wounded soldier.  “Alright, take him away. Next”, he ordered, wiping away the beads of sweat that blurred his vision. The younger of the two chuckled. He barely even glanced up from his work, yet his colleague’s frenzy was as palpable as the bloody mess that lay in his hands. “Losing steam eh, Dr.Blackwood?”, he chortled. “You know, I can always take one off your hands for you. Lighten the load, perhaps?”
Willhelm rolled his eyes at the other man’s irritatingly nonchalant demeanor. He admired him for his ability to handle situations with dire stress, but he also wished he could do so quietly.  “As much as I appreciate your assistance, Dr.Hewlett”, he sighed, wiping his hands on a bloodstained rag. “I suggest you keep your paws to yourself, if you wish to keep them.” Percy guffawed as he signaled for the officer he was working on to be sent off. “Well they did warn me you were a genius with a scalpel and saw.  The offer still stands though. All this stress can’t be easy for you, old man.” A patient each was set upon their operating tables, groaning and bleeding. This was no time for levity. Willhelm simply scowled before returning to his work. “Bloody maverick.”
—————————
Hours passed and still the influx of patients continued to travel in and out of the medical tent.  There had been a slight lull accompanying news of the British forces finally taking the offensive and advancing a few meters northbound.  Nonetheless, the surgeons’ work was far from over.
A flood of wounded officers had found their way into Percy’s skillful hands, but like any surgeon, no matter the skill, he only had two. He kept his cool, but Willhelm could see a slight panic beginning to breach the surface. “Eating your words yet?” Willhelm smirked as he watched the other man toil over two patients. “You know it’s never too late. My hands are free. I could lighten the load, perhaps?”, he asked, parroting Percy’s earlier quip.
Percy felt his cheek twitch. “Well, Dr.Blackwood”, he spoke through a strained smile, taking off his spectacles as to wipe them of sweat and blood.  “That’s very kind of you to offer. Yet a tad bit unoriginal, don’t you think?” The older man chuckled. He couldn’t help but take even a little pleasure from the other’s chagrin. It seems even the great Percival Hewlett’s pageantries and medical prowess had their limits. “Come now, Dr.Hewlett”, he chided. “There’s no need to be shy.” One of the officer’s squirmed as he went under the needle. “P-perhaps Dr.Blackwood’s right”, he whinged. “Th-think of the othe-“ “I would consider it highly unwise, Mr.Parker, to question the authority of the man who holds your life in his very hands”, Percy cut off the officer with his usual strange brand of saccharine apathy. “Or in this case, your limb. Now please, do hold still.” His strange grin made the man shiver. The canons sounded off yet again, making the ground shake and the tent walls shiver.  Percy did all he could to hone himself in, to buckle down, to drown out all the chaos, all the din.  It was easy, or at least it was most of the time. Yet again, today proved to be another exception.  With aching wrists and tired eyes, the man set down his medical scissors with a defeated sigh. Willhelm simply watched, his brow raised expectantly. “Well, Dr. Blackwood. Today’s your lucky day”, the younger of the two finally admitted. “It seems I’m feeling quite generous.” The other couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s this? Am I sensing a sliver of humanity in the great Dr.Hewlett?” “Yes, well, don’t go getting used to it”, Percy retorted. He bowed his head as he focused on his work once more. “The next officer that walks through that tent is yours, Blackwood.” True enough it took no longer than ten minutes for three new patients - two officers and a private - to be lobbed into the already crowded quarters. The higher ups were split amongst the surgeons, an Officer Richards limping over to Percy’s side of the tent, while an Officer Daniels clung to his bloodied sleeve as he trudged over to Willhelm’s end.  A fourth member to the injured party joined them as well, his bespattered kilt swaying stiffly as the blood upon it began to dry. “Jesus Christ, Paddy”, Willhelm exclaimed, recognizing the man. His dark eyes shot quickly to the bloodied apparel. “Don’t tell me-“ “I appreciate the concern, Doc”, the other man panted as he practically dragged his wounded companion. “But it is not my blood. The boy. It’s the boy.” “Yes, well place him on the bench-“ “I would but I don’t think the lad’ll make it if I tried.” The young soldier groaned, his lips quivering as he clutched onto the darkened stain that continued to spread down the front of his coat. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sputter of blood. “Christ Almighty! Get him to the table. The table! Get him on it now!”, Willhelm roared over the panic. He turned swiftly, catching one of his assistants by the arm as they were about to run past. “Bandages. I need bandages, clean ones. More of them. Understood?” Percy watched silently as the other man scurried away. His usual chatter may have ceased, but his curiosity was far from ebbed. With a huff and a grunt, the young soldier was lifted onto the operating table, whimpering in pain at even the slightest movement brought onto his wounded form. Such a sign didn’t bode well. “Alright. Let’s have a look now.” Carefully, Willhelm began to take the soldier’s hand off of his gut and peeled away the blood-soaked jacket flap. “Easy now. Let’s just-“ “How dare you!”, the officer bellowed from behind him. “You put him before me?! I was here first!” “You both came at the same time, Officer Daniels”, Willhelm said over his shoulder, not even turning to look at the man. “Now if you would please wait your tu-“ “Don’t you dare turn your back to me! I’m an officer!” “Yes and I am very much aware of that. I am sure your regiment will fair fine without you even for a moment. From the sounds of it, they already are.” The man’s brows raised in shock. How dare he! How dare anyone speak to him in such contempt!  “If we lose this bloody battle because of you-“ “And if we this boy loses his bloody life because of you, then what, Officer Daniels?!”, Willhelm bellowed as he spun around to finally face the nuisance of a man. “Now answer me this and answer me quick because I have another man’s life in my hands! Can you walk?”
“Y-yes.” “Are you breathing?”
“Of course I’m-“ “Do you have a bullet lodged anywhere?” “N-no-“ “Well then, what seems to be the problem?”, Willhelm challenged Daniels. His snide tone was far from appreciated. “Are you blind? I fell off my damn horse and now my wrist-“ “Yes, the thing looks broken. Fractured at most. Now if you please excuse me, I have a man with a hole the size of St.James in his guts! I’m sure you can tell which is more dire, considering that it was your wrist that broke and not your brain.” Daniels couldn’t believe the gall of this doctor! Who did he think was? He sat there, seething as he watched the doctor walk away. “Y-you…m-my superiors will hear of this! This will not go unnoticed, Doctor Blackwood! Mark my words!” “Well, that’s if he has any tongue to tell them with”, Willhelm grumbled as he reached for his forceps. “Aye, steady on now, Will”, Paddy warned. “Believe me, there are several things I’d love to teach that man, he’s a right bugger, he is. Though might I suggest we keep things rather untroubled. For the boy’s sake.” A boy indeed. Willhelm couldn’t help but feel the twisting pang of guilt as he gazed down at the young man. He was young, too young to be here.  “He should be at home. Working. Studying”, the doctor thought to himself. His mind wandered for a moment to his students. Then to his son. Good god, the boy looked so much like him - the dark hair and eyes, the slope to his nose. Now, Willhelm was a professional, a man of method and rules. Hardly did he ever let anything move him in such a way. He was acquainted with death and accustomed to blood and pain, much more so than he would like to admit. But this, this broke him. “Well?”, Paddy asked, taking Willhelm out of his subconscious. “What do you reckon, Doc? What’s the damage?” The doctor looked at his friend, but gave no answer. With his forceps and scissors he cut away at the bloodied cloth, revealing a gaping void of viscera and tissue. The boy had been shot in the stomach. It was only a matter of time before the acids and bile began spreading throughout his body and causing an unbearably painful death. And who knows how long it had taken for them to get back to the medical tent. Willhelm had to make a decision and fast. “I-I…I need time”, he faltered. “I just need a little time.” “I’m afraid we don’t have much of it, Doc.”
More blood came up from the young man’s mouth, the dark liquid dripping down his chin and mingling with the viscera that already dampened his uniform. He could not speak nor scream, yet the flurry of fear and panic that shown in his eyes rang clear as the gunshots outside. His cheeks grew wet with tears and blood as his hand gripped onto the fabric of Willhelm’s sleeve. “Steady on, steady on lad”, Paddy comforted the boy, holding him still as he shook with each cough, “Will, we’ve got to do something! Now!” A thousand remedies ran through the doctor’s already frantic mind, and yet none deemed themselves helpful to the cause. The blood was already traveling up to the boy’s throat, the bile and acids of his stomach surely making it hard to breath. The pain, oh Christ ,the pain in the young man’s eyes. Willhelm grabbed a nearby bottle of laudanum and uncorked it. He poured the ruby liquid into the soldier’s mouth while his other hand supported his head. “Will…”, Paddy said, staring in horror. And yet he kept going. The bottle was down to half its content. “Will.” A third. “Willhelm!” A quarter. “Dr.Blackwood!”, Percy’s voice yelled from across the room. Willlhelm stopped, his hands shaking as he put down the tinted bottle. The boy’s grip upon his sleeve had grown limp. He was dead. The doctor’s gaze travelled about the tent, gathering the unnerved glances of those around him. “I-I….I need to…wash my hands…excuse me”, he slurred before turning the other way and walking out of the tent. “Please excuse me.” Paddy, Percy, and the officers simply stared in silent shock at what they had just seen. “He killed him…”, Daniels murmured. “He bloody killed him…” ————————— Percy leaned against the post of the nearby tent, the light emanating from behind him casting long shadows onto the cold ground. The night air had grown silent and still. Only the scent of gunpowder remained as a reminder of the recent battle and victory they had accomplished but a few hours ago. The quiet only amplified the shouting coming from the nearby officer’s tent.
He listened intently, gathering whatever he could from the muffled voices. “So”, Paddy sighed, taking his place beside Percy. The flickering lamplight only accentuated the worry upon his already weathered features. “Officer Daniels really did it eh? Bloody bastard can’t even keep his own boots clean, yet he can keep his word on this?” An exhale drifted from the doctor’s lips and turned to vapor. “Apparently.” The two stood still, the muffled screaming being the only other sound than the groaning of the wounded. “Did he really do it though?”, Paddy asked, his eyes fixated on the glowing tent. “Did he truly kill the boy?” “In a sense, yes. But not to the extent of which most would think.” “Aye, but do they know that?”, the Scotsman said, gesturing to the tent. Pushing himself from the beam, Percy chuckled cooly. “They will. Soon enough.” ————————— “An outrage! This is an absolute outrage!”, Commanding Officer Wesley Péche yelled from behind his desk. “Out of all the people in this company that I expected this sort of buggery from, it definitely wasn’t from you, Dr.Blackwood!” Willhelm stood silently at the front of the desk. He was usually not one to back down from a heated debate, but tonight he could barely even look at the man before him. Instead, his gaze remained fixated on a small scratch engraved onto the dark wood. “I appreciate your trust, Sir-“ “Yes, well it doesn’t seem much like it! You’ve made a mockery of it! And absolute mockery! I hand picked you myself, do you know that?! The college had recommended me your superior, Dr. Langley, but I specifically chose you. Do you want to know why, Dr.Blackwood?” “If I could please explain-“ “Because they told me of your skill, your competence, and most importantly your compliance to the oath you took when you became a surgeon!”, Wesley continued, his hazel eyes glowing with rage in the lamplight. “I thought you proficient in understanding the importance of obedience to the rules. Perhaps I was mistaken.” Though older by a great many years, Willhelm couldn’t help but feel as if he were a young child being scolded by its parent. He clenched his fists tightly, opening and closing them as he took a deep breath. “Sir, with all due respect-“ “No! No!”, the other cried, throwing his hands up in the air. “I don’t want to hear it! Daniels told me quite enough! Not only did you waste an entire bottle of laudanum, a provision that we are in low supply of, but you ignored an officer his right to medical care. And let us not forget the biggest error of all, you-“ “Good evening, Officer Péche”, Percy interrupted as he lifted the flap of the tent. “Forgive the intrusion, but we are needing Dr.Blackwood back in the medical tent. Some of the patients are getting a little fussy.” Wesley scowled. He was already upset enough at one surgeon, he did not need the irksome company of the more confounding of the two at the moment. “Yes, well I am not done with him, Dr.Hewlett. As you can see, I am having a discussion-“ “Ahh! Well then perhaps I could be of assistance?”, Percy offered, fully stepping into Wesley's quarters. The officer blinked. “I don’t see how-“ “Well considering the misdeeds and accusations that are being speculated around the camp concerning our dear Dr.Blackwood, I thought I may shed some light on the situation. I did witness the entire ordeal, after all.” Willhelm held his breath. What on earth was his colleague up to? “W-well…I…I guess, that’s alright…”, Wesley considered, turning his gaze away from the other doctor. Percy always had a habit of making him feel uncomfortable whenever he was in his presence. He would have readily shooed him out of his quarters, but what other choice did he have? The only other witnesses to the incident were Paddy and Officer Richards, the two being unreliable due to their close relations to Blackwood and their injured state, respectively. As much as Percy was far from winning any favors in Wesley’s book, something hardly ever earned by anyone according to the men, the doctor  had always seemed rather neutral to most situations. Eerily so. Neither was he close to Blackwood in any sort of the sense. “Fine. Fine. I’ll allow it.” “Perfect. Do carry on, Officer Péche”, Percy said with his usual saccharine nonchalance as he lowered himself down onto a nearby chair. Willhelm stared in horror at the other doctor. Christ, this was it. He was doomed. “As I was saying”, Wesley continued, clearing his throat. “Firstly, you ignored an officer, when according to him and other witnesses, you had promised to ‘lighten Dr.Hewlett’s load’.” “Sir, I-“ “Secondly, you not only used an entire bottle of laudanum, but wasted it-“ “Correction”, Percy said from across the desk. “Not all of it. The bottle still had over a quarter left.” Wesley glowered, his lips drawing to a thin line before he resumed his monologue. “But wasted it entirely on one man. One man! A bottle can serve almost three men if I am not mistaken. Am I Dr.Blackwood?”
“No. No, sir.” “And worst of all, you readily poured the contents of said bottle down the throat of your own patient! Choking him from the reports of the others!” A shot of guilt tore through Willhelm’s gut. “I…Sir, I didn’t intend to kill the boy-“ “Well you most certainly did, according to those present!” “I only meant mercy-“ “Mercy?! By forcing a bottle down his throat!?” “He was in great pain, Sir! There was no other way!” “If I may? Gentlemen?”, Percy interrupted yet again as he stood form his seat and took his place in front of the desk. “I would like to give my own account of this afternoon’s situation.” Wesley hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange prickle as he sat under the fair-haired doctor’s expectant gaze. “If you must…” “Thank you”, he replied with a smile. “Now, I must say that the first two accusations are sadly true. Dr.Blackwood did ignore Officer Daniels’ request, and procured a bottle of laudanum from the already dwindling supply.” “Exactly. Therefore-“ “But he did not do so without reason.” Percy squared his shoulders and calmly placed his hands behind his back, as if he was ready to lecture in front of a class. It irked Wesley to no end. Willhelm shot the other doctor a nervous glance. “Dr.Hewlett, I don’t think-“ “Hush now, I believe Officer Péche has give me the podium, so to speak”, he replied with an ensured grin. “You see, in the medical world, rank does not outweigh the dire need of medical attention. A title and commission, though magnificent in their own right, does not outrank a giant gash across someone’s chest, for example. Though the two patients did arrive at the same time, Officer Daniels’ injury was far more inferior to that of the young private.” “Well I think that’s rathe-“ “Don’t tell me, Officer Péche, that if you were to walk into the tent with, let us say, a fractured shin, yet have your good friend - what’s his name? Harold?” The officer’s ears reddened. “Harold lay bleeding to death on another cot, you would use your rank to get ahead?” Wesley froze, his face looking like a strange cross between a scowl and a grimace. He was never one who enjoyed being scrutinized, much more so when it was he who was supposed to be doing the probing. “Alright. Alright, fine! But that still doesn’t account for what happened to the private. I should have you tried for murder, Dr.Blackwood.” Willhelm felt his blood run cold. “Murder?!”, he exclaimed. “Sir, you cannot be serious!” “All the witnesses said Dr.Blackwood gave the boy a high dosage of laudanum-“ “As a means of mercy, no doubt”, Percy explained. “May I ask you, Officer Péche, if you know the Hippocratic Oath?”
“I-it’s an oath recited by doctors and surgeons as a means of pledging allegiance to their cause and calling. I’m not that stupi-“ “Yes, but do you know the words?”
The officer simply huffed as he leaned back into his chair. “No…no, I don’t.” Obviously delighted by this, Percy prattled on. “Well, then I should enlighten you!” “Please don-“ “It’s quite long, but I shall get to the stanzas that ring quite profound. At least for this situation they do.” Willhelm swallowed hard. He was already in the thick of things earlier on, and now he was just completely lost as to where Dr.Hewlett planned on taking this whole spiel. He simply braced for the worst. “How about you, Dr.Blackwood?”, the other doctor inquired as he turned to his colleague. “Do you remember the third and fourth stanzas of the oath? I’m sure you recall.” “Err, yes”, Willhelm complied, shaking himself out of his stupor. “I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required. I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug.” An awkward silence emanated throughout the tent as the older doctor finished his recitation. Wesley simply stared in confusion. “I don’t see how-“
“I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required. Warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon’s knife or the chemist’s drug”, Percy parroted. “In other words, Officer Péche, Dr.Blackwood did nothing else but his job.” Willhelm turned to the man beside him, his eyes wide behind their spectacles. “The boy was dying, and in a lot of excruciating pain from the looks of it. I may not have been by his side, but even I could see that nothing could be done for him. The laudanum allowed him even a moments peace in his time of agony. He would have died sooner or later, quite slowly and painfully if I may add. All Dr.Blackwood did was ensure his comfort as he left this world.”
The older doctor couldn’t help but stare in shock at the man before him, his mouth slightly agape. Had his ears deceived him? Had Percy truly defended him?  He quickly pressed his lips together and returned his attention to the officer. Wesley sat with his elbows propped on the desk, his nine fingers knit together as he pondered over Dr.Hewlett’s words. After a few moments, his eyes peered up at the two men before him as he reached a decision. “I will readily admit that I know not of the medical world nor its rules and regulations, but I do know of my own rules. The rules of the military. I am afraid there are some things that cannot go without consequence. I am sure you understand, Dr.Blackwood.” A sinking feeling ran deep through Willhelm as he accepted his fate. “Yes. I do, sir.” “Which is why you will be given a warning…” The doctor raised his gaze. “Sir…” “I am a reasonable man. You will receive a warning for misconduct towards an officer, and the amount equivalent to the bottle of laudanum used shall be taken from your pay.” Willhelm blinked.  “A-and what of the boy?” “Gather his belongings and give them to his best mate. Tell them to give them to his family. That is all. Goodnight, gentlemen.” A wave of shock and disbelief surged through the older doctor. Or perhaps it was the sudden depletion of his adrenaline. “Well now that that’s finished, I believe it is time to take our leave”, Percy announced as he lead his colleague out of the tent, but not before turning to the commanding officer once more. “Thank you for time, Officer Péche. Perhaps I may repay you with a check up. I do believe you are due one in the upcoming days. How is your finger, by the way?” Wesley froze and simply occupied himself with a map that lay in front of him. “I..err..p-please just go. There are things I must attend to now. I said goodnight, gentlemen.”
A wicked smile played upon the younger doctor’s lips as they exited the tent and into the cool night air. The slight layer of frost upon the soil crunched beneath their boots as the two men made their way back to the medical area.
“I know I said we needed you back at your station, but I highly suggest you get some rest, Dr.Blackwood”, Percy chuckled. “You had quite the day.”
Willhelm, still fazed by what had just happened, stopped in his tracks and stared incredulously at his colleague. “I…I don’t understand”, he muttered, his warm breath making small puffs of vapor in the night air. “I know we are not the closest of comrades, far from it in fact. And yet…you defended me. I was clearly in the wrong, and yet you insisted..” Percy halted as well. “That may be so”, he said, turning to Willhelm with his signature grin. “But I’m not heartless.”
The older of two stood silently, his legs refusing to work. Or perhaps it was the heavy burden upon his shoulders that soldered him into his place in the frosty ground. “Dr.Hewlett”, he called out. “I…you must understand. I have blood on my hands. A boy’s blood rests upon my hands, and this time I fear a rag and some hot water won’t do…” “Don’t we all?”, the other chuckled. “We are surgeons after all.” “But would you have done the same? W-would you have…put him out of his misery?”
“No”, the other said a-matter-of-factly. “Which is why I applaud you. There is little in this world that I wouldn’t do. I guess you’ve bested me in that, Dr.Blackwood. Congratulations.”
Willhelm tried to fathom something to say, but nothing surfaced except another puff of vapor. “I would say I owe you my gratitude”, he finally admitted. “Though I do not think that is enough, Dr.Hewlett. Lord knows what I would have in store for me had you not stepped in. I…thank you.”
“Like I told you, I was feeling quite generous today”, the other replied. “As you were, in your own right.” A bitter chuckle leapt from Willhelm’s mouth. “Generous? In what? Laudanum? Death?” Percy smiled once more before turning on his heel and lifting the flap of the medical tent. “Mercy, Dr.Blackwood. Mercy.” —————————
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darling-archeron · 6 years
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No Peace for the Wicked
After returning from Under the Mountain, more demons haunt Rhys than he realizes when he has a panic attack in front of the inner circle. 
AN: This contains a darker Rhys then I’ve written before, one very much haunted by his past. I might eventually expand this into a second part.
TW for a panic attack and allusions to rape.
Rhys had missed the city more than he thought possible.
It was the little things that still surprised him, the memories that had slipped away over fifty years. The creaky floorboard on the second floor. The mysterious yowling cat that was always heard but never seen.
Most of all, he had missed the people – his family in particular.
Though that sentimental feeling was wearing a bit thin, considering they were twenty minutes late for a meeting Amren had called.
If he didn’t know better, he would have though his thoughts summoned her as the clacking of bracelets announced his Second’s arrival.
“You’re late.” He commented lightly.
She strode through the room and gracefully plunked down on her usual armchair. “I knew the others would be tardy, and I didn’t feel like sitting around and waiting for them to show up.”
Rhys felt one side of his mouth quirk up. Reaching for the geometric-patterned plate on the table, he picked a scone off it, that smile his only reply.
Several minutes passed before Cassian and Azriel wandered in. Both helped themselves to a generous amount of the blueberry scones. Rhys rolled his eyes. 
“Amren was right – I should have told you two to be here to be here thirty minutes earlier than we planned on starting. Two military officials such as yourselves certainly ought to be able to arrive at a friendly gathering on time.”
Cassian snorted. “I had business to attend to. Is that what this is? Are we having family sharing time now?”
Rhys jerked his head in Amren’s direction. “Is that why you called this meeting, dear Second? Not spending enough quality time with your favorite fae?”
“I was waiting for Mor, but if you must know –“
Her words went unheard by Rhys as he caught a whiff of something from the street – something so familiar it caused him physical pain.
It wasn’t just the aroma that he felt like a blow to the chest. No, it was because of how it had been expertly blended into an expensive perfume.
Cassian was staring at him in concern as Rhys sprang from his seat.
He had laid next to a female covered in that scent for fifty years, and he could never get the sweet scent of warm vanilla. So sickeningly saccharine, you could be suffocated by it.
The caress of a hand against of a chest, soft and gentle as a butterfly.
And now Amarantha had come to Velaris, to wreak vengeance upon him. Rhys wouldn’t let her touch this place. The moment he found her – a misting would be a mercy. She had tortured and killed and made everyone suffer unspeakable torment. She had made some part deep inside of him become just as twisted and broken as that bone jutting out of Feyre’s arm. The bone he had pulled and twisted at to hurt her, manipulate her.
He could feel that broken part rearing its ugly head now, straining to release the darkness and molten wrath inside of him. His head was spinning and breathing quickening as he wrestled with that blind panic and rage. 
He would destroy her.
There was no mercy in him. Just as there was no peace for the wicked.
A red, serpentine smile.
Rhysand’s talons slid out, wings unfurling as he turned, searching for her. The motion made his wings hit the giant spray of flowers on the coffee table, shattering the red vase into shards that looked like beads of blood.
Claws slicing out of delicate, pale hands and carving into the tattoos on a bare chest. Drops of blood glimmered off them as they were retracted.
 Perhaps ten seconds had passed since he first scented that gut wrenching vanilla, but with every moment, more and more of his beast form revealed himself. The distant part of Rhys – the part that had managed to remain less damaged, somehow – recognized how macabre and twisted this part of him looked. Especially when compared to the city’s serenity. But that part in Rhysand was miles away, going farther as the rage mounted with every heave of his chest.
A dark hiss of pain that barely managed to turn into a bedroom murmur.
Cassian and Azriel were both on their feet now, eyes narrowed and assessing the situation. He could feel their siphons humming as they drew magic up. Amren was saying something her couldn’t hear. They didn’t see, they didn’t know -
“Show yourself.” His voice was one that haunted a thousand nightmares. Unleashing his magic fully, Rhysand sent stalks of power to course through the city and find her.
They didn’t get far, because she – Amarantha – was directly outside his home.
She had made so close to the heart of his city.
A guttural snarl with nothing good in it tore through Rhysand’s throat, and quicker than lightning he had vanished from the table and winnowed to the front steps. His shadow-wreathed talons closed around her tan throat. Not too hard – he didn’t want to shatter bones or draw blood just yet. The talons snagged on tendrils of golden hair, and he relished the cry that came from her lips. Good. Good that she felt even this little pain, there would be infinitely more to come –
Golden hair.
Golden – golden hair. He had held her for not even a second, but as he loosened his grip in shock, Cassian sped out of the townhouse, tackling Rhysand and tearing him away. At the same moment, the woman sent an immense blast of power from herself, knocking Cassian and Rhys backwards.
Cassian remained standing. But the force of that power – mighty enough to cleave stone – was enough to bring Rhys to his knees as his vision cleared.
Morrigan. It was only Morrigan.
She stepped away from him, chest heaving and eyes dark.
Around the neighborhood, neighbors had dropped their work and were staring. The Demon Lord never showed his fae in Velaris – it was always Rhys here. Even his father had never lost control like this in the city.
Azriel raised his hands, siphons creating a shield around the yard that doubled as a glamour of invisibility and silence.
Amren turned to him with a furious expression her face. It didn’t go unnoticed by him how she had angled herself in front of Mor – though his cousin was more than capable of protecting herself.
“What in the damn bloody pits of hell, Rhysand?” she demanded, silver eyes flashing. He didn’t have an answer for her. His breath was calming and the world had become quiet and it was becoming so clear to him what he had done….Cauldron, what had he done -
Mor stepped up beside her and held up a hand to calm Amren. He could sense magic humming around her, ready to defend herself from him at any moment. She was still breathing hard, the sides of her neck still red.
Rhys’s beast form was reverting back to High Fae as he steadied his breathing. Feathers turned back to skin, razor-sharp teeth became blunted once more. But he didn’t say a word, couldn’t answer any of their questions as he turned his eyes back to the ground. He slammed his hand – still ended in talons, not finders – into the cement, hard enough to break something. The cement shook and cracked beneath his palm.
Still, the scent burned his nose.
So sickeningly sweet.
They were all still waiting, wanting an explanation. So he choked out the only few words he could manage.
“I am….so sorry, Mor.”
Amren didn’t give Mor a chance to answer. “Why.”
“That perfume…it was the same kind she used.”
“Amarantha.” Cassian said quietly.
Rhys didn’t – couldn’t - respond. Never before had anyone in the Inner Circle seen him quite like this. Raging on the battlefield as he cut down enemies with sharp precision, yes. Devastated at the sight of two boxes floating down the river, yes. But never quite this….wild fury that came loose so quickly from its trappings.
It was a beast that had prowled under his skin ever since the war, brought to life to protect his people. In the years after, it had been content to sleep in the back of his conscience. But the darkness of that Mountain had fed it and made it fester and morph into something else.
He had never let them see him anywhere close to this – not that it had ever gotten this bad. But even half of this….who would want to bother with this broken mess he had become?
Mor, perhaps, could have accepted it. Cauldron knew she had her own monsters. But everything about this had been so wrong – she was looking at him the same way she looked at Keir.
Rhys’s chest shuddered. He had attacked her. It was vile and loathsome, and the shame was flooding through him. But not quite enough to erase the memory of the black fury coursing through his veins.
Not enough to erase the feel of that hand on his chest.
Nor for the talons to ease back into his skin.
Rhys was silent for quite some time, fingers holding that crumbled cement and crushing it into dust. The whole time, he imagined he had ground her bones to dust.
Wishing he had killed her the first day he met her. A thought that would haunt the rest of his existence.
There was no peace for the wicked.
There was no peace for him.
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marythegizka · 7 years
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Bodyswap AU - part 3 (part 1 here, part 2 there)
“What the hell is the Anthan 13 incident?” Aphra asked as they boarded the Ark Angel, a loud, resonant sound clanging inside her helmet as her head hit the cockpit’s doorframe. She made a mental note to bow a little next time.
“Nothing to concern you with. You do not have the time nor the patience to provide General Tagge with bedtime reading.”
Well, if the boss said so… she wasn’t going to object to that.
“Fine by me,” she said as she settled into the pilot’s seat – a task she soon realized took more effort than she had initially thought. It felt like trying to fit in a toddler’s chair. After a few contortions she leaned back in the seat, her two legs half-folded and squeezed against the dashboard and her shoulders sticking out on both sides of the backrest. The trip was going to be cramped.
Vader, for his part, was too busy re-enjoying the concept of leg space to even notice her struggling. Oh Force. Leg space. The notion had become rather foreign to him, and it wasn’t long before he found himself stretching to his full length and half-slumping is the copilot’s chair… until he realized Aphra had been staring and instantly sat upright, clearing his throat before he spoke.
“You may proceed with takeoff,” he instructed.
“Sure, I may. That’s still my ship,” she mumbled as she took hold of the yoke and began taking the ship out of the atmosphere. “So… where are we going?”
“We are heading for the Kuat system. Tagge will be awaiting me aboard the Executor.”
“Woohoo,” she all but yawned. “I’m dying to meet that guy. Sounds like the life of the party.”
“I was unaware of your passion for graphs and protocols.”
“Urgh… swell. And here I was afraid of getting bored.”
Aphra all but punched the coordinates into the computer and waited for the Ark Angel to respond. As soon as they’d made the jump into hyperspace, a low, prolonged growl filled the cockpit, and Aphra pricked up her ears to pinpoint the source of the noise.
“Hm. Either the hyperdrive is malfunctioning or…” she stopped as she noticed Vader’s look of embarrassment. “Or someone’s really hungry! Oh well. It’s snack time anyway. There’s some meiloorun in the food-safe,” she said, gesturing to the space underneath the control panel. “Help yourself.”
Vader took up the offer and pulled a large drawer from under the dashboard, revealing a fair supply of ration bars, two pulpy, bright orange fruits… and no small amount of Corellian ale. Now, was that really a surprise?
He picked one of the fruits and hesitantly brought it to his mouth, sinking his teeth into its sweet, watery flesh. The flavor was pleasing, the smell even more so.  A bit too rich perhaps, but Vader didn’t give the barest hint of a damn. This was real, tasty, juicy food and he wasn’t about to nibble.
Aphra did her best to ignore the fruity, saccharine scent which, somehow, only grew stronger by the second – and  that, in spite of the heavy mask her face was covered with. It was all so frustrating. She was groggy, tired and hurting, and Force was she hungry too.
“Do you… have a feeding hatch or something?” she hazarded, not really expecting the question to get her anywhere.
Vader’s eyebrows made a slight jump. This wasn’t a question he had been prepared for.
“I do not.”
Aphra hung her head slightly.
“Oh. Pity,” she said, maintaining an outward appearance of control while her whole body screamed for the food before her, its smell so pervading she could almost taste it. All she could do was look, unable to touch it, her hunger so intense it bordered on nausea.
“However,” Vader continued, “there are two tubes at the corners of your mouth. The left one is for feeding. Just… take a sip.”
Aphra began fumbling awkwardly for the straw. She would have been a sight to see, had the mask not been in the way. After making a few faces, she got a hold of the nozzle, took a swig… and winced at the taste.
“And you call that food?!” she exclaimed, surprised she had managed not to spit it all out.
Vader shrugged.
“You may have injections if you so desire. Occasional oral feeding remains required to prevent complications.”
“Hm… okay.” She leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes in an attempt to ease the headache that was building up. “No offense but your life feels like a hangover.”
“I trust your expertise in that field,” Vader said, casting a brief, yet telling glance at the bottles in the food safe.
“Well, thanks…” she grumbled, too tired to bother thinking of a comeback. She didn't elaborate on all the other discomforts that came with being trapped in Vader’s body, from that stiffness in her neck to that dull ache in her chest and in the middle of her limbs, to her skin that felt too thin in some places, too thick in others, and somewhat over-stretched each time she tried to move. In short, things could have been better. And all she wanted to do was sleep. Thankfully, the ability had not eluded her – she was still Aphra, after all. A loud, deep yawn escaped her mouth; the sounds began mingling and fading in the background, the incessant throbbing of her temples her only lullaby as she drifted off to sleep.
Aphra jerked awake and straightened up in her seat. She didn’t know how long she had been out; it had felt like a blink. The headache had not lessened a bit and the sight of the vortex outside the Ark Angel was already starting to make her feel dizzy. Before she got a chance to bring up the question of their whereabouts, the ship came out of hyperspace, emerging right in front of an imperial flotilla.
Her gaze was quickly caught by the gigantic, spear-shaped ship docked to the impressive scaffold in front of them, fighters and haulers swarming around it like a hive fussing around its queen.
“Holy k… I mean, most impressive,” she said, drawling her words a little. 
“Indeed. And that is why I suggest you signal our position before…” he was cut short as Aphra suddenly swerved downwards, narrowly avoiding the torpedo that exploded inches away from the canopy. It had been an instinctual move – she hadn’t seen it coming – but she somehow doubted her ability to pull off that stunt again. Two TIEs darted their way on what she could have sworn was a near-collision course, and Aphra swerved right to dodge a salvo, flying the ship with one hand as she reached for the ship’s comm system.
“Stop shooting!” she yelled as she pressed the button. The mere sound of her voice seemed to freeze the whole scene. At first she was only met with eerie silence, the sizzle of the line and a stunned sense of fear – hers and theirs alike. Both TIEs stopped firing and flew past them in a beeline, carrying on their paths as if the two pilots had suddenly dropped dead. A few more seconds passed, loaded with dread and discomfort, then an officer’s face appeared on the holo. The man visibly gulped upon meeting her eye, opened his mouth as if to speak, and immediately closed it to gulp again.
“I presume you have an explanation for this?” she finally asked.
“I am truly sorry my Lord, we did not recognize your transponder codes and we assumed…”
“You assumed wrong,” she cut him short. “Have two TIEs escort us to the main hangar. I trust that is within your skillset?” she added with a hint of sarcasm.
“Y-Yes, my lord,” the man stuttered, “I’ll be sending them immediately.”
Aphra ended the call and turned to Vader, nervous and yet eager to assess her performance.
“How was I?”
“Lenient.”
>part 4
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